0130 Hours, December 3rd, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ Firebase Kilo/ The Ark, Intergalactic Space
"Contact. Two Skirmishers, dead ahead. I can take 'em out quietly."
Linda tightened her grip on the massive sniper rifle in her hand, preparing to pull the trigger. John crept up alongside her, zooming in with a pair of binoculars. A green light popped up in Linda's visor; she had the green light. What sounded like two spitballs being let loose crackled through the air, and the two aliens fell dead on the ground.
"Great shot," John commented.
Linda set down the rifle and said, "That's the third patrol I've taken out in the last hour, John. Sooner or later they're going to find our camp."
John, remaining silent, got up and began walking back to the Allied camp, looking down at the ground. Fred sat on a charred log, sharpening a combat knife. He looked up at John and rose to his feet. A cool breeze blew over the camp, sand brushing over Fred's combat armor. Slipping his knife into his sheath, he cracked his fingers and looked at the Chief.
"More Covenant?"
John nodded, "We have to clear out of here soon. Linda's been picking off more and more Covenant in the last hour, and it's only a matter of time before we're found."
Fred sighed, and asked, "Is there any way the fleet could get us?"
John shrugged, "The Elites have been running raids on the blockade, but there's no way they could get enough time to evacuate thousands of marines."
Walking away, Fred sheathed his combat knife and picked up an assault rifle. "We've got three frigates and six landing ships. There's got to be a way we can run the gauntlet with them."
"The only way we can escape this… Ark, is if we can get Rtas to secure us a lane through Truth's fleet," came a loud voice from the darkness. Fred and John turned to face the shadow as the Arbiter emerged.
"How can we be sure that he can do it?" asked Fred, who sat back down on the log.
The Arbiter chuckled, "Rtas is one of the most capable Shipmasters I, or any Sangheili for that matter, have ever seen."
"While that may be true, the odds are greatly stacked against us," John said.
The Arbiter looked up at the sky and watched as a flash illuminated the sky; a ship in orbit must have been destroyed. He watched as debris falling from above burned up as it entered the atmosphere. He looked over his shoulder and saw Fred and John talking to each other; it was clear that Fred was annoyed and wanted to regroup with the Sangheili flotilla.
Fred muttered into his comm, "Shadow of Intent, any contact with Reach or the main fleet?"
Arbiter walked over to the two Spartans and waited for a response.
A response came through, and Fred shook his head. He looked up, and said, "Zero contact."
"If we stay here, we'll all be dead," he added.
Thel walked over towards the main operating base for the allied forces. Two Cleopatra assault ships were sitting in a wide open plain, with legs extended from each corner. Marines ran inside to grab supplies and bring out Warthogs. A group of ODSTs sat around a fire, playing cards. Thel turned back and looked skywards.
From a few meters away, he heard John say into the comms, "We're going after Truth?" A few seconds later he said, "Yes, sir."
"Soon," Thel muttered, his heart longing for revenge.
…
0150 Hours, December 23rd, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ Sublime Transcendence/ Over Planet Reach/Epsilon Eridani System
"I am not going to let my brothers die there!" Xytan roared, pounding his fist onto the table. He was standing with Admirals Harper and Whitcomb. The allied fleet had regained control over Earth, as much of the Covenant fleet went through the portal to join Truth. Most, however, retreated to their own space to regroup.
"We have thousands of veteran troops there too, Fleetmaster," Harper said.
"If I have to take my ship alone through to help our men escape, then so be it," the Imperial Admiral said, tapping a few buttons on the table. The ships engines rumbled to life.
The two humans looked around, and then Whitcomb conceded, "You're the lifeblood of the Elites, Fleetmaster. If you die there, your kinds' morale will be killed." The Admiral silently hoped this plea would work. The Fleetmaster was too valuable of an asset to the UNSC to lose.
Xytan cocked his head to one side, and said, "I would give my life away to save just one of my brothers." The room stayed silent, aside from the noises from the bridge officers attending to their duties.
Steven simply shook his head. "Fleetmaster, you are simply too valuable of an asset to blindly throw through the Portal." Admiral Whitcomb held up his datapad, scrolling through various reports.
"We can detach several assets to assist you, should you go through with this," Admiral Whitcomb spoke up, looking up. He tapped a button, and a hologram displayed on the table. A Jupiter-class destroyer, one of the most powerful destroyers in the fleet, and two Halcyon-class cruisers popped up. One hundred and twenty Longsword fighters, armed with twin 110mm rotary cannons were attached to the small task force, supported by around 2500 crack marines.
"These Shipmasters, are they worthy?" Xytan inquired in a low voice.
"Admiral Graham is one of the best we have."
Xytan straightened his back. He highlighted the hologram of the destroyer, the Achilles. It had dozens of confirmed kills. It had broken not only destroyers and cruisers but had shattered several carriers with its twin MAC guns. Xytan inhaled, and then nodded.
Whitcomb and Harper looked at each other and began making their way to the door. "We'll get them ready," Harper said as he passed the towering Sangheili.
…
0500 Hours, December 4th, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ UNSC Achilles/ En-route to the Ark, Intergalactic Space
"Longswords are armed and ready for launch."
"Slight issues with one bird, but the Pelicans are good to go."
"All assets are reported in. We're ready to go," Ensign Cortez said, giving a thumbs-up to Jon. Jon walked around the bridge and sat down in the command chair. He tapped his fingers nervously on the side of the chair. This was it; there would be no second chances. They had to break through the blockade or else they would lose thousands of valuable assets. Just losing one Spartan would be a disaster. Losing an entire team? An absolute catastrophe for humanity.
"DeSemple, when we exit Slipspace I want us between and behind the cruisers. Their armor will allow them to take more hits while we dish out damage with the MAC. Remember, guys, we only need to punch a hole in their blockade, not destroy their fleet," Jon said. DeSemple nodded and began working away at his computer.
The Imperial Fleetmaster wasn't messing about with his force. Along with his massive CSO-class supercarrier which dwarfed anything the UNSC had, he commanded six battlecruisers and two assault carriers. In Jon's free time he had compiled a record of Xytan's victories for the Allies. He never followed one specific strategy or tactic; he varied. He was a wild-card but he always won. Whatever the Fleetmaster had up his sleeve, it was clear he would win. But he was not without his flaws. He often took too many casualties in his victories and could be very reckless on occasion, often forsaking lives just for one small gain in extra territory.
"Sir, the Fleetmaster is opening a channel with you," Ensign Cortez spoke.
Jon nodded, and slowly said into the open link, "Imperial Fleetmaster, may I once again say that it is truly an honor to serve with you." He gave a confused look to Lieutenant Covington, a look of 'how the hell to I talk to this guy?'
"Admiral Graham, your commanders assigned you to me for a reason. They said you are one of their best," a low, grand sounding voice boomed through the channel. Jon curled his fingers; he still could not believe that humans and Elites were playing nice. "I have seen your battle plans and I am curious. Why arrange your formation in such a manner where your better armed ship is in the rear? Would it not be advantageous to have it at the front so it may bring its guns to bear on the traitors?"
A genuine tactical question was the last thing Jon expected to hear. He looked at William, who shrugged and laughed a little bit. Jon shuffled in his chair and cleared his throat, "The uhh… the Halcyon cruisers are known for having a very durable armor scheme. They have a, uh, honeycomb style which allows them to take a lot of damage without being disabled. I am having them go ahead to draw fire while my ship dishes out fire from the back."
There was brief silence from the other channel, and then Jon heard, "An interesting tactic. We shall see how well it works. When we arrive, we will secure the Shadow of Intent and then pierce the blockade. Your ships will arrive as a vanguard to mine as the Sublime Transcendence is the last thing Truth is expecting. Upon contact I will engage with the escorts following soon after."
"With respect, are you suggesting my flotilla is used as a shield for your forces? It is no secret that human ships cannot withstand sustained fire from Covenant guns."
"Not a shield, a vanguard. Once Truth's ships begin firing on you, my ship will jump in and absorb as many hits as we can. We do not want humanity to lose another one of its leaders," Xytan replied.
Jon sighed and looked at Covington, "Get the guns charged up, I want us opening up as soon as we're in range." He spoke back into the comms, "Just say when, Fleetmaster. We're ready."
After a brief pause, he heard it.
"When."
…
0930 Hours, December 4th, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ The Citadel/ The Ark, Intergalactic Space
"Get dooooooooooown!" cried a marine as a plasma mortar from a Wraith impacted onto the face of a cliff. Fragments of rock crashed down onto the ground, making soldiers scramble for new cover. A gauss cannon armed Warthog led a group of three down the road, spraying down Covenant infantry. Brute captains led squads of Grunts forward, firing plasma bolts at shell-shocked humans. A Grunt with a fuel-rod cannon leapt out from behind cover and let a volley of rods go at the gauss Hog, destroying it instantly. The flaming wreckage of the Warthog flew backwards, crushing two marines. The two Warthogs behind it swerved out of the way, one of them driving off of the cliff.
Three Hornet gunships flew along the road, unleashing rounds from their cannons on Covenant infantry. "We have an anti-air Wraith below, over," one of the pilots relayed to the other. The gunships peeled off to avoid AA fire. The marines pressed the advance and continued driving the Covenant back down the road. Upon reaching the bottom of the hill the UNSC encountered a massive wall, bristling with Shade turrets and various auto cannons. More Warthogs came down the road from the tunnels, and a flight of Pelicans came down, dropping off Scorpion tanks. Marine snipers opened up on the gunners of the turrets, soon disabling them.
A marine pointed up at the sky and screamed, "Banshees! Cover!" From above, what appeared to be hundreds of hostile fighters flew in from afar, opening up with plasma cannons and fuel-rod bolts. The Banshees rapidly destroyed unsuspecting Hornets and were on the brink of achieving air superiority. There were too few Wolverine anti-air tanks to fight back, though they did inflict losses on the Covenant. Suddenly, the ground began shaking, and a CCS-class battlecruiser screamed in from overhead and passing the Citadel. It turned around and took a holding position in the air, before being joined by two more cruisers.
"Shit, are they friendly?" one marine yelled. A flight of Longswords soared over and engaged the Banshees, making their way towards the cruisers. "There's my answer," the marine said, dropping down to secure his helmet.
An earth-shaking boom rattled from above and a MAC round slammed into one of the Covenant cruisers. The Forward Unto Dawn led two other frigates in an attack pattern on the cruisers, unleashing MAC rounds missiles into the Covenant ships. Dozens of small pods dropped from the frigates and impacted in the ground. ODST's rushed out of the pods and engaged nearby infantry, reinforced by several Pelicans dropping Scorpions and Warthogs.
Out of nowhere, a beam shot down from the sky above a Covenant cruiser, splitting the ship apart. The beam moved onto one of the other cruisers, destroying it in an instant. Suddenly, a massive supercarrier dropped in from orbit, deploying hundreds of Seraphs and Banshees. An assault carrier came in from the same direction as the UNSC frigates, engaging the now-fleeing cruiser.
"Now, Prophet, your end has come," an Elite said on an open comm.
"Negative, Shipmaster! We have a team entering the Citadel now!" Commander Keyes called back. By that point the humans had broken through the wall and were onto the field leading to the Citadel. Dozens of Warthogs flew through the hole in the wall, rapidly overwhelming Covenant defenses. Pelicans dropped off squads of marines across the area under cover from Elite Banshees.
…
From above the Citadel, a single green Phantom dropship appeared from cloaking, dropping a group of ten. Four Spartans, three Elites, and three Grunts rushed inside before the Phantom disappeared. John tossed a frag grenade at a startled group of Jackals, tossing their bodies across the room. They could see the elevator, they just had to get there. The Citadel shook under fire from stray shells.
"We're almost there! Come on!" Kelly yelled, shouldering her shotgun. The elevator at the end of the hallway lowered from the top floor, and a large Brute Chieftain wielding a gravity hammer stepped off.
"You will not stop the Great Journey. We have the Key to salvation!" it said, slowly approaching the group. Immediately the team sprayed the Brute down with volleys of bullets and plasma bolts.
The team boarded the elevator and Thel walked over to the console. "I never did like it when they spoke," he remarked to chuckles from his fellow Sangheili.
As the elevator went up, John said, "We're here for Truth. We kill him and this war is over." Everybody nodded, knowing the weight of what they had to do. As the elevator neared the top, everybody prepared their weapons for the fight ahead.
…
Fred kicked the bullet-riddled group of a Brute off of the walkway and into the abyss. All of the team except John and Thel took defensive positions in the room leading to the command panel. "Room secure," Linda said into the comms. Three green lights popped up on her visor.
"Come, human. Let us end this war," Thel said, walking on the path towards the stairs. The Master Chief slung his assault weapon on his back and followed the Arbiter along. Dead Covenant littered the ground, though they were not killed by the team. They noticed a break in the window and a crashed Pelican. As they began ascending the stairs they noticed an odd silence. They could not hear Truth.
"No… NO!" the Arbiter roared, sprinting to the top of the stairs. He saw a single Phantom flying away from the Citadel quickly before activating its cloaking device. He roared at the ship, a mixture of sorrow and anger at missing the chance to kill the final High Prophet.
Thel looked at a blinking light on a control panel. He walked around to it and said, "The Rings! They're activated!" He looked at a mold for a human hand and yelled, "Human! Deactivate the rings!" John rushed to the panel and put his hand on it. Each model ring in the hall had its lights go out one by one.
"Glad that's over with," John remarked. He looked back at the Pelican and heard a cough.
"Chief!" a female voice cried.
It was Commander Keyes and Sergeant Johnson, both alive. "Never thought I'd see your ugly face again!" Johnson coughed. John rushed over to the two and looked them over. They had both been shot by Spikers.
"What happened?" John asked.
Keyes revealed a spike in her abdomen, and said, "Truth isn't here. Truth was never here. It was a trap… he knew we would come." She removed the spike and put a bandage on. "I think he was just trying to capture us, activate the rings if he could." She looked at the last few rings powering down, "And I guess he was successful… for a bit."
John looked at Sergeant Johnson and held out a hand.
"I didn't die on Halo, I'm not dying yet," Johnson remarked. He pulled a spike out of his torso and applied medical spray to the wound. The Master Chief pulled Johnson to his feet and nodded.
"Blue One, is it clear?"
John replied, "Affirmative." The door to the room slid open and the rest of the team entered the room, looking at the carnage inside. Linda came up the steps and set her sniper rifle down.
Thel came over to John and pointed at a green Phantom entering the hall. "Come, humans. We must leave this place."
…
1546 Hours, December 4th, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ Shadow of Intent/ Above the Ark, Intergalactic Space
"Truth's fleet has broken their blockade and are jumping out of the system," Rtas 'Vadum said, standing over his command table. Several human commanders stood around it, towered by Sangheili officers. An aura of tension hung in the air. Many of the humans had seen hundreds of casualties while the Fleet of Retribution was held up in space.
"Took them long enough," a human remarked, scratching over a bandage on his arm.
The door to the bridge slid open and the huge frames of Thel 'Vadam and John-117 entered. The humans snapped to attention and saluted the enormous supersoldier. "At ease," he said quietly. Thel and John walked to opposite sides of the table.
"It is good to see you well, brother," Rtas nodded to the Arbiter. "Is it destroyed?"
Thel looked over to John, who spoke up, "The ring is destroyed." There was light applause around the room from the humans, and the Elites cheered in their native tongue.
Rtas let in a deep exhale and then spoke lowly, "Brother, something has happened."
