"Everyone form up!" the Demon demanded.

The gunfire had ceased, battle was over. Mar took one last look at the Kig-Yar corpses in front of him, then stepped over them and went to rejoin his team.

Shortly after the battle with the Brutes, the Spartan and the Elites went through two more doors and found themselves in the map room. The Marines were posted in the hallway to hold off any would be interrupters.

"The Cartographer!" the Oracle suddenly exclaimed at the sight of an ancient computer sitting in front of a massive hole in the center of the room. "Come, it awaits your approval."

Mar holstered his plasma pistol, tossed aside his stolen Jiralhanae weapon, and didn't lower his guard entirely, but relaxed nonetheless. The Arbiter began to slowly amble along the left 'arm' of the floor, which served as an upper tier to the floor below, and peered over the sights of his carbine to the open skies.

Finally.

After everything, after all the irretrievable time and energy spent, after all the lives unforgivably lost at the hands of the crumbling Covenant, they had finally reached their objective. And nothing, not the Hunters nor the Wraiths or even the Scarabs had been able to stop them.

Keep your helmet on, little brother. You're not out of this yet.

The Demon placed a hand on some sort of panel, which recognized him as Human and projected a massive hologram of the Milky Way.

"That's... our galaxy," he observed. "We're beyond the rim."

"Two to the eighteenth lightyears from galactic center, to be precise," the Oracle confirmed.

"What is this place?" the Demon asked him as the hologram switched to an outside view of the planet-sized Forerunner construct they'd landed on.

"The Ark."

"This is the Ark?"

"I had always assumed it was a part of a shield installation, but it seems I was mistaken."

"That's a first," the Demon scoffed.

Mar grinned at that.

"Not at all," the Oracle explained earnestly. "While I had a complete understanding of Installation Zero-Four, my makers wisely limited my knowledge of all other strategic facilities. Compartmentalization, in case I was ever captured by the Flood."

Studying the hologram representing the Ark, the Demon then asked, "Can you tell me where we are, exactly?"

"Here," the Oracle declared as an icon in the hologram lit up and pulsed.

"And Truth?"

"Near one of the super luminal computer arrays, I'm afraid. Unfortunate. The Meddler has triggered a barrier. A defensive perimeter around the Ark's core."

Mar looked up as a pair of Banshees flew past the open end of the room. Everyone froze as they soared obliviously by, and the Arbiter, the furthest up, flashed a concerned glance back at his teammates. Mar's hand hovered readily over his sidearm.

The Oracle continued, musing.

"The barrier will be difficult to disable. How odd, that my makers place such a comprehensive defense around a single... oh my."

"What is it?" the Demon wanted to know.

The Arbiter interrupted them, yelling, "Phantom!"

Mar and the Demon split up and ran for cover as a Loyalist troop carrier came into view and started firing into the map room. The Oracle however, stayed put, lost in thought. It was a good thing that the Arbiter was drawing the Phantom's fire.

"Spark! Move!" the Demon cautioned.

The Oracle snapped out of his trance and flew over to him.

"We must get past that barrier or the Meddler will destroy it all!" he cried.

Johnson's voice came in over the COMs directly after.

"Chief, you've got a whole mess of hostile air inbound."

The Arbiter had just killed the Grunt on the Phantom's side-mounted plasma cannon, but was now running from a Banshee that had given chase. A stream of hot plasma from the Banshee followed behind him as he ran, and was getting closer. Mar drew his plasma pistol. The battery level was at seven percent. He'd have one shot at this.

Though he'd landed trickier shots in the past, he was a bit unsure as he held the trigger down to charge the plasma. The small gun began to overload and became unstable. It took a great deal of strength to hold it steady and to keep the trigger held down, the battery quickly depleting all the while. He let go of the trigger right at one percent and nearly hit himself in the face due to the tension snap.

The Arbiter on the other hand, trusted him completely, and started speaking even before Mar released the plasma charge.

"Follow the Oracle, Spartan," he said to the Demon.

The ball of green plasma smacked headfirst into the Banshee and, temporarily, disabled its electronics and thus brought it crashing to the floor. The Arbiter raced up to it, yanked open the cowling, and ripped the pilot out. He then threw the sorry Brute to the floor and took off in the Banshee.

"I will help your sergeant clear the skies."

Mar watched him fly up and chase after the Phantom, but also saw the Brute on the ground crawling for a spiker lying just a few feet away. Mar was without a firearm to stop him, but not without weapons. He broke into a sprint and leapt into the air. Horizontally. A second or so later, he came down on the back of the Brute's head with a heavy elbow drop, bashing its face hard against the cold floor.