UNSC Picacho del Diablo at Reach Rally Point Lima

November 19, 2557

Nicknamed the Diablo, the Marathon-class cruiser was now the flagship in the task force to intercept increased Covenant activity. The class was now beginning to be phased out in favor of the new "Autumn" heavys based on the Halcyon design. The Marathons still in active service all went through refits through the post-war years to feature an increase in engine power and an energy shield that was currently being developed for further enhancement.

Eon was already on a Pelican en route to the vessel when Tyrant had contacted them with details.

A large radical Covenant group called the Council of Chieftains had sent a warning beacon to a UNSC scanning outpost at a system that was a dozen lightyears away. The operators instantly alarmed FLEETCOM and mobilized a group to deal with the fleet.

It got even more personal when the Council had confirmed the deaths of four Spartans in their threat message.

Jaguar.

"You know, it's only natural that I get to be aboard a ship I'm partially named after." Hades chuckled in Bowman's helmet as they stepped onto the hangar bay. Below them on the floor was an emblem of the ship's number C-935 as well as a backdrop of a red devil crossing his arms with an M6 handgun in one hand and his trademark pitchfork in the other.

All around them, men and women in BDUs pushed carts, marshaled aircraft and essentially getting ready for their rapid response.

A young bridge officer met them upon their exit. "Eon?"

"That's us." Pine nodded.

"I'm Lieutenant Paul. Admiral Brady sent me to brief you."

"Lead the way Lieutenant."

Paul led them through the complex hallways of the vessel, always turning at arrows on the floor that indicated the direction of the bridge. Occasionally, a disembodied male voice came over the speakers, most likely to direct certain personnel.

"It's an honor to meet you Captain Bowman." Paul extended his hand as they walked. "Your stellar MTSFO record is the stuff of legend with us Navy. You single-handedly eliminated three columns of wraiths during the Battle at Mate's Rivers!"

"Thank you." Bowman said nonchalantly as he shook the gesture, "How old are you lieutenant?"

"Twenty-two sir."

"Let me fill you in on something. You've done quite a bit I assume during your short career here?"

"Yes sir."

"I can see that. Admiral Brady makes good taste. Mate's Rivers was just my duty. Those Covie fuckers were going to exterminate every human in sight. Let me tell you something; stay alive, do your job and don't fuck up. You see me as a hero after what happened back there. What do you think I see myself as?"

"I…"

Bowman held up a hand, "How old do you think I am kid?"

"Um…" Paul looked a bit nervous, "Thirty-three?"

"Thirty-five. When you're my age kid, a lot of shit can happen."

Then he turned away and continued walking.

"Hey." Pine put a friendly hand on the lieutenant's shoulder, "Don't take our CO too seriously. He's just been through a lot."

"Really?"

"I'd rather not elaborate. I'm Spartan Ross Pine and this is Brett Fowler and Marcus Austal."

"Pleased to meet you."

"Pleasantries later gentlemen." Bowman snapped, "I want to get situated ASAP."

"Of course sir." All four men said as they jogged to catch up.

The bridge was bustling with activity as multiple junior officers moved about, exchanging talk and seated at their consoles, typing away. A couple of people gave them awed glances as the fireteam walked by, definitely not used to seeing Spartans in person before.

Rally Point Lima was one of the twelve rally points for war fleets to depart from Reach. The naval base was steadily growing, bolstered by the rebuilding economy at the sites least damaged by the glassing five years ago.

"Admiral."

Admiral Brady was a shorter man with a gray hairline in full retreat. His blue eyes reflected a person who had seen a lot in his life. His uniform had rows of multicolored medals from his late to post-war service. Now given command of the task force to intercept the Council of Chieftains, he was fighting to remain calm, despite all the pressure continuing to build.

"Hello Spartans. Welcome aboard the Diablo." He stuck his hand out.

"Captain Bowman."

"Ah yes. I've heard a lot about you." He shook Jacob's hand before bowing his head, "I'm sorry about your other team."

"We'll get em." Bowman replied, "I've also brought our unit AI that you requisitioned. I must say, he is very appropriate for the ship."

He held up a datachip and thumbed it into the port. A split second later, Hades popped onto the screen. This time, his guitar had patterns of skeletons with flintlock pistols surrounded by a black background and roses.

"How do you like my new Death Mariachi look?" The AI asked.

"Couldn't think of anything better." Brady chuckled, "Eon, you've already met Lieutenant Paul. I know that we're not allowed to intervene due to your own jurisdiction, but if you are in need of specific equipment, then let him know and he will make sure you will get it."

"How about some scotch?" Fowler asked.

Brady smirked, "See me after the op."

"I assume we already have a plan in place?"

"Yes. The Council of Chieftains is targeting here," Hades pulled up a map on the holotank. "The human colony of Providence Two in the said system. As you all may know, Providence is a rather new colony and one of the first to be established post-war. The CNRD did a good job in finding these unscathed places."

"How long until they reach the colony?" Brady asked.

"We'll get there in about six days. Our new slipspace engine can propel us at the same speed of our Covenant counterparts, but we're also farther away than their last known location. If they're en route already, then they'll be there up to twenty hours before we even reach the system's outskirts."

"I don't like those odds at all." The admiral murmured, "Contact the CAA on Providence and issue an evacuation. All nearby ships are to aid immediately. If the Brutes are bent on exterminating humans, I want all of them gone."

"Consider it done."

November 24, 2557

The journey would take many days and Eon went into cryo sleep for four days before being awakened twelve hours from exiting slipspace. The journey from a hub world to Providence II was a short hop, but from Reach, it was a much longer flight.

The MJOLNIR armor was capable of ignoring freezer burns inside, although the user was still subject to its effects.

Bowman hated cryo. Like most servicemen and women, he felt the process was extremely uncomfortable.

First you would strip completely naked, because unspecialized clothing would stick and become part of the skin at such cold temperatures. Then he would step into his designated pod after being injected with cryoprethaline, a special drug that keeps the body cells from being damaged by the cold.

Second, the pod would be filled with sleep gas and he'd be knocked out, just before he would begin to shiver from the plummeting temperature.

He had undergone many drills as an MTSFO and so did the other Spartans in their prior positions. His MJOLNIR armor alleviated many of the uncomfortable things, the lack of nudity included, but it still didn't make him change his opinion of loathing nonetheless.

The process of thawing in a wake cycle took about fifteen minutes or five in a quick and high-risk situation.

"Rise and shine old man." Like a foul-mouthed angel from the heavens, the voice of Brett Fowler was actually a welcome sign.

Bowman's tube popped open and he immediately latched the seal on his helmet.

First thing people had to do after awakening was to cough. A surfactant would build up, designed to replace nutrients lost in the freezer. A short trip like this one wasn't so bad, but Bowman recounted one where he was asleep for nearly a month. Lungfuls of shit made it feel like puking cold vomit.

He drew in a breath and coughed. Again until finally a mouthful of clear fluid forced its way back into his mouth. He spat it out quickly, satisfied that his tongue hadn't sensed the newcomer just yet.

"You're pretty good at thawing." Fowler reached a hand inside, "As for me, I can't get this damn taste out of my mouth."

The formula in the surfactant had been changed many ways and it still remained one of the most disliked things about cryonics, even for centuries. No matter how scientists played around with its formula, it always tasted like a citrus flavored slime.

Add that to Bowman's list of things he hated about the freezer.

Over to his left, Austal and Pine had just completed their wake cycle. The former helped the latter out of his tube before they gave each other a light fist bump.

"Morning boss." Pine said as he strode up, "Happy Thanksgiving."

"It's been five days already?"

"Yeah. We've just entered the Providence System although the admiral is having the fleet take a more stealthier approach."

"The Covenant?"

Austal spoke up, "Slipspace signatures had been detected in-system seven and a half hours ago just at the Four. They appear to be a group of eight warships and they're not UNSC."

"Did Tyrant give us any information on why we're here?"

"Nada. As the situation progresses, he'd fill us in."

"What time is it now?"

"Fifteen hundred and thirty two."

Austal spoke up, "Mind if we get a move on? The thanksgiving meal is really one of the few that I like."

"Yeah." Bowman said, "You and Fowler begin a requisition of equipment we might need on the surface. Expect anything from demolitions to space combat."

"We're on it." Fowler tapped his comrade's shoulders and they were off to be checked out of the cryo bay.

The Diablo led the UNSC fleet of four destroyers, a single carrier and a pair of heavy frigates in orbit relatively close to Providence's natural satellite. The new colony, starting in 2555 was among the first post-war worlds. She had many dense jungles and towering mountain ranges capped with white snow. Terraforming the world took some time, as the atmosphere had a thinner oxygen-nitrogen mixture than Earth or Reach.

Economically, Providence had grown remarkably strong, being the pinnacle of the UNSC rebuilding process. Cities of New Haven, Lincoln and Krakow sprouted up and the New Haven quickly established itself as the colony capital. Her population was just under a million, but the rate had multiplied over the two years.

Brady stood up from his chair just as the planet came into view on the bridge windows.

The sight before him made his heart skip a beat.

There had to be at least a dozen Covenant warships. Three cruiser class stood in a triangle formation and flanked by a multitude of other ship classes including frigates and support vessels.

Two things had immediately caught his attention.

One was the giant debris field. Multicolored parts and charred metal were all that had remained of several civilian ships and their UNSC escorts that had fought to cover their escape. The evacuation had become target practice for the brute vessels, easily destroying the armed ones before slaughtering the helpless prey.

"I estimate the debris to be over twenty ships." Hades said, "Both civilian and military. Estimated casualties are ninety thousand."

They haven't even started and already they had lost a tenth of the planet's population.

"Discharge!" An ops officer suddenly shouted, spurring several others into action. "Plasma lasers directed at the debris field!"

"Evasive maneuvers."

"No need for that admiral." Hades pointed, "They're not targeting us."

"I'm getting distress calls!" The woman at comms reported. "We still have civilian ships evacuating!"

The situation just went bad to worse. The evacuation was still occurring and the ships involved were still being targeted by the Covenant.

Back into the thick of it huh?

Thanks for reading and reviewing. You give my writing purpose!