The New Threat
Chapter 7: Takin' This Fight to the Surface
Disclaimer: I own nothing. The works of Halo (characters and weapons) go to Bungie, while KotOR (same thing) go to LucasArts. Some elements were used in compliance with Gipper 40's story, and that doesn't belong to me either.
Revan traveled through the vacuum by momentum and gravity of the blue planet, Earth. Around him, lasers bounced off the small shell of Force he erected for himself. His target, an Assault-class Covenant Cruiser, was making its way through the debris field and was drifting towards Earth. Revan propelled himself forward with a surge of Force, until he came toward the ship.
The ship gleamed, and a large laser erupted from one of the laser projectors. Revan barely missed the plasma beam, but an Orbital Defense Platform wasn't too lucky. At least it wasn't the Accra.
Two YAS-Longswords swept past Revan and bombed an opening in the ship's hull, creating a passage to which Revan could enter. Revan drifted into the ship's interior, finding himself in the power pylon. Revan took the glove from his belt and fit it on his right hand.
"Lisithea," Revan said, "you want to tell me how much time was left?"
"Seven seconds," Lisithea said. "If you take me out, the countdown will resume."
Revan calculated how fast he would be able to get out of the ship. He climbed to the control panel of the bomb and pressed his right hand on it, ejecting Lisithea from the bomb. The device started pulsating faster and faster, signaling its primed detonation.
Revan pressed both feet on the bomb and jumped off, using the Force to carry him out of the ship. He was barely out of the ship's interior when he felt the explosion on his back, and the angry rays of light reflecting off Covenant and UNSC ship alike. Revan's vision cleared as he drifted away from the explosion, and he guided himself toward a UNSC ship. Painted on its side were the words Tundra in all uppercase, block-lettering. Revan glided toward the ship, setting his feet on the ship as it headed for Earth.
"This is Private Tonthald, on the UNSC Tundra. Open up an airlock for exterior entrance?"
"We have your location, Private Tonthald," a voice called. "Standby." Revan looked to see a hatch open and jumped down the hole. The hatch door closed as the blast doors were opened. The sea of stars disappeared behind the circular lid above. A marine approached Revan from behind, waiting until Revan turned to face the man.
"Admiral Richardson wants to see you at the bridge," the marine said, "he is fortunate to have you land on his ship. Follow me; I'm here to take you there."
"Thanks," Revan said.
"Aww, no problem. You just did a performance that Spartan-117 did himself, ten years ago."
Richardson bore a distraught look on his face as Lisithea was ejected into the Tundra's network. He took a good long look at Revan before saying anything. "We all had the thought that Spartans couldn't die," he said. "But after Reach, we knew every one of them, save one, was dead. Now that we don't have any available Spartans, we can only count on you, Private Tonthald."
"I'm your only hope?" Revan asked.
"Whatever Three-Five-Eight was up to, he; well, she; was doing what was right. You have stuff from movies and the Covenant, something that bests their plasma tech. You may be a Private, but it doesn't matter about Rank anymore. It is skill.
"Tonthald, most of the Spartans were at the rank of Petty Officer, not a very prestigious rank. But their prowess in battle was all we needed and wanted, and it no longer mattered to us what rank they were." Richardson shook his head. "We would be in a better condition than we are now if we had One-One-Seven."
"What kind of person was One-One-Seven like anyway?" Revan asked. He was given no answer.
"Hood will tell you. I actually don't know." The Fleet Admiral seemed sullen.
It wasn't something I did, right?
LINE
"We'll be sending the first wave of marines within the hour," echoed the radio, Richardson's voice. "But Tonthald, I am sending you with the first flight except you are to report to the Tech Center. You start off there, and the ones stationed there will re-outfit you with a proper 'helmet' and other... accessories."
"Will do, sir," Revan replied. He tapped his finger on his DMR's scope before taking it and having it magnetize to his shield unit. His M6G pistol went to his thigh. He checked his belt for his two lightsabers. Check.
He walked down the ship toward the hangars and managed to hitch a ride on a transport Warthog. Revan waited by watching the passing interior of the Tundra. Marines and rooms would pass by, or another Warthog would overtake the one he was riding in. It wasn't very long until Revan arrived at the hangar bays.
There were five Pelicans at the moment, waiting for marines to enter each one. If Revan remembered right, then each Pelican can accommodate fifteen marines, excluding the pilot and co-pilot. There was also a Warthog or Scorpion Tank that could be fitted on for transport.
A marine, whom Revan recognized as Ferrick, approached Revan. "Y'know," the marine said. "I'm glad you're on our side."
"Same," Revan replied. "It sure makes me feel better that my head is still connected to my body. Things go around."
"Well, now we have no Spartan to watch our back. We can expect a lot of things to go wrong... girl or not, I would like to keep in mind that a Spartan can turn the tide for us when the going gets worse."
"I've never had a babysitter behind me. I think that's how I feel, or maybe even another Spartan." Revan nodded at a Pelican. "Which one goes to, uhm, a tech center?"
"Well, Peli-Echo is the one going there. Too bad I'm not on your flight. Maybe I'll see you later?" Ferrick waved a hand before walking toward his flight on Bravo.
Revan waved back, his hand faltering. I'm still here. And I haven't even tried to get back to Coruscant or any planet I know of. What am I doing? What is the meaning of this path that I am taking? Revan sighed as he headed toward the Pelican to the far right, taking a seat on one of the seats. There were only two other marines there and they looked as if they weren't in the mood for talking.
"Standby," said a loudspeaker. "Wait for green light to travel down to Earth. All non-passenger personnel clear the hangar for decompression." The Pelican door closed before there was an upward thrust, and G-Forces pushed Revan down for a second. Soft hissing sounds could be heard outside the Pelican. Revan could feel his tunic drift from his skin.
"The trip will take about an hour," the Pelican loudspeaker said. "I'll open the hatch when we have reached the Earth's atmosphere." There was a click, and silence.
An hour... Revan said to himself. Such a long time... besides, brandishing my lightsabers for sparring isn't a good idea - the Pelican would easily be rent in two, and only the pilot would be safe.
Meditation was the best route to take.
LINE
"..."
"Is anyone there... It's dark here..."
"Hello?" Revan searched deeper then.
"..."
"Who's there?" Revan asked. "Is someone there?"
A steady breathing of a human sounded in Revan's ears, but he could not see the breather. Revan wandered in his projection of Force and came across a dim spacescape. A star's light was blotted out by a large bluish planet, its surface composed of ice and snow. The remains of a UNSC Cruiser, with the words unto Dawn visible, drifted into the planet's gravity field. By the way it was cut; it was either by Covenant laser, explosion, or Slipspace accident.
Revan's vision drifted closer to the ship, until his eyes fell upon a small holotank, which softly pulsed a light-blue hue. A larger tank was situated near the holotank. Condensation on the larger tank signified cryo. Revan's curiosity drove his closer to the cryo tank, and the screen lifted, and he saw a Spartan's visor.
"Chief!" cried a woman's voice.
The hissing of compressed air awoke Revan from his trance, which had left his dumbfounded. What was that about? He asked himself. Another Spartan?
And that world... I have a feeling I've been there before. But it couldn't be Hoth, could it? It looked more deserted than Hoth anyway, and has more iced-over oceans. But that feeling...
Revan couldn't shake his mind off of the planet, much less why the place felt familiar. He could only have described the place to be "somehow connected to Dantooine, albeit not physically". It only came off his mind when the Pelican took a sharp turn. Buildings crashing accompanied the turn.
"Damn those bastards! Scarabs are already out?"
Revan looked out the hatch to see a large quadruped mechanism, seemingly designed to look like a four-legged insect with an eye for a head. Flaps around the "eye" opened, plasma rays converging on the eye's center.
"Flank left!" Revan cried out, and the Pelican swerved away from the devastating beam that erupted from the Scarab's eye. The skyscraper ahead of the Pelican collapsed as the beam melted its infrastructure.
"We're going against that thing?" one of the marines cried. "No way, man, count me out!"
"Marine, did I give you permission to bitch?" asked the pilot from the open cockpit door. "Besides, you won't be going into battle until a few hours. So you can sit out for a long time. But Jackie and I here don't got much of a choice." The marine grumbled at the pilot's remark.
"A half-kilometer south-east is the Accran Tech Center," the co-pilot stated. "I don't see anything but the Scarab on our motion tracker."
The pilot hummed as the Pelican turned forty-five degrees to the left and picked up speed. The Scarab quickly became smaller and then disappeared among the buildings. The Pelican slowed to a hover and started to descend into a courtyard. Revan took his DMR from his back and rested the gun at his chest. He weaved around the Pelican to see a woman in a white lab coat. Several marines were posted at the building, wielding Machine Gun Turrets, Rocket Launchers, Sniper Rifles, and other heavy weaponry. Shotguns and ammo were sprawled on the floor. An unfinished game of chess lay on a nearby table.
"Greetings, Private Tonthald," the woman said. "I'm Doctor Charlotte Hanber. Fleet Admiral Hood had contacted me to expect you."
"It seems a Scarab is headed this way," Revan said. "Whatever it is I'm doing here, I hope it shall be done quickly."
"It won't take long, however, I will need your shield unit clothing, your pair of gloves, and your mask. Updating the HUD system into you will significantly be able to inform you of your current status. Most of our soldiers have that system to begin with.
"If it means being able to beat the Covenant, of course," Revan said. "Are there any side effects?"
"Not that I am aware of. However, it will feel somewhat awkward when you forgo your mask; since you will be used to seeing all the blinking lights and bars and all." Dr. Hanber tapped the side of her head. "Gets burned into your mind and brain projects it as normal to see it."
Revan nodded as he took off his gloves, and mask. The doctor waved him inside, where Revan was able to enter a washroom to remove his article of clothing. With only his undershirt and tunic, he felt slightly colder, but didn't take notice of it. He folded the cloak and set his mask and gloves on it. He stared at the Mandalorian mask, which had belonged to a Mandalorian female whom tried to stop the slaughter of surrendered Republicans. "I can imagine one of the same personalities as you in the Covenant ranks," Revan said. "What would he or she say? The same as you did?"
Revan chuckled to himself as he carried his pile out of the washroom, carrying the DMR. Dr. Hanber was waiting for him outside, and Revan handed her the clothing. "It should be done in at least fifteen minutes," Hander said. "Standby until then, and protect the premise. A Scarab is used to clean up troops, not whittle down defenses."
Revan nodded, hefting his DMR to a surer grip. He headed outside with six other marines, making seven people to defend the courtyard. Revan set the watch on his hand to fifteen minutes, the first time to use one of the new gadgets Richardson had given him on the Tundra. Time Attack sequence, Revan said to himself, start. From 1253 to 1308, we defend the courtyard.
"We have a couple shorties coming in at two o'clock!" the sniper said. "Two Elites at the ten o'clock!"
Revan issued orders. "Two marines report to the ten, cut those Grunts off, one stays behind to watch for snipers. The other two, follow me, pick off those Elites."
"Why you?" asked a marine. The insignia on his arm signified him a Gunnery Sergeant, Grade Two. "Shouldn't I be issuing orders, Private?"
Revan felt a surge of annoyance and frustration at this man. "You don't know who I am, don't you?" Revan retorted.
"You obviously don't know who the superior officer is!" the Sergeant backfired. "Sniper, just shoot them, we can pick off the others that come."
"You would waste ammunition like that, you pompous..."
"I most certainly outra-"
"I fucking know that!" Revan roared. "Now, unless you want to be blown to shreds by Hunters because of lack of anti-materiel bullets, I would suggest you leave your shit behind and listen to my orders instead. Gunnery Sergeant." Revan resisted the urge to personally cut the man down. One wrist-flick of a lightsaber would already cut the marine into two pieces. The same could be said for himself; the Sergeant could just pull out the Magnum and shoot him in the stomach, only that Revan had his Force powers. Plus, one movement from the marine would result in an arm being cut.
"The Sniper rounds should be saved for Hunters, I agree," said a marine. "Tonthald may be a private, but he has much intellect for someone that just got accepted."
"I heard his shooting and decision-making skills were off the charts," another marine said, "and he was available for being made into a Spartan."
"Covenant closing in!" a marine called.
Revan exhaled sharply, then went for explosives. He grabbed two trip mines, along with a stack of newspapers. Upon walking past the group of marines, he said, "If you don't want to move and save yourself, I will single-handedly save everyone. Then I will have you demoted for insubordination."
"You don't even know Hunters are being dispatched."
Revan closed his eyes, and allowed the Force to flow into him, Force Farsight. He saw by a bird's eye view of the premise in frozen time. A squad of Grunts was approaching from the southwest street and Elites from the southeast. After that, a battalion of Jackals were sent at the twelve o'clock, the direct south, followed closely by two squads of Grunt and Elite forces. A pair of Hunters approached behind each squad, then the pre-Scarab Elite Kill Team.
Revan opened his eyes. "I just figured out their battle tactic. You, Gunnery Sergeant, may stay put and watch me be promoted to Captain." The sergeant flashed a look of anger.
Revan headed to the Elite's path and set a Trip Mine in the path that was required for entering the courtyard. A newspaper was set on the Trip Mine to disguise the light it emitted and to muffle the beeping. He stowed the last Trip on his back. Finished setting the mine, Revan jogged back to the courtyard and waited for the Grunts, which he could easily hear them grumble.
"Why split us up?" one muttered. "Surely two squads of Elite-led Grunts can take them out quickly."
"That's what I'm thinking. We'd be picked off before we know it." Revan turned the corner, and the Grunts only yelped in fear as the first shot cracked the air, killing two Grunts with a penetrating bullet. In the distance, the Trip Mine exploded with the screams of the Elites. Four more quick headshots cleared the Grunts.
Jackal screams came from the other side of the wall, with their tromping down the sidewalk. Revan picked up a Plasma Grenade, primed it, and threw it over the wall. The sound of a double-beep signified it hit a flesh target and the hisses of dissipating Jackal shields fill the air. The Elite and Grunt squad was heard tromping down the avenue where the Jackals were, but they were stopped by an explosion of some sort.
"I got your back, Tonthald!" shouted a voice that wasn't the sergeant's. "I'd follow you anywhere, considering how badass you are!"
"Appreciated!" Revan called back. "Watch for Hunters-" He was cut short by the wort-wort-wort of an Elite, whom had promptly opened fire on him. Revan shied away from the shots, his tunic burning at the close call. Revan deftly dodged the shots fired at him, his shots taking out the Grunts first. He turned his attention to the Elites and depleted their Energy Shields with a Force Lightning. The headshots took care of the Elites.
A Fuel Rod shot burst its way from the shadows and exploded at Revan's feet. Revan had shielded himself in time with the Force, and was recovering from the blinding effect. He took out the Trip Mine and primed it, entering Force Sight to catch a glimpse of the Hunter. Its large form was looking at Revan, expecting crossfire.
Revan primed the Trip Mine and threw it at the Hunter. The Hunter, startled, fired its arm cannon at Revan, yet collided with the Trip Mine. The result was a massive explosion that required Revan to shield himself with the Force again, yet killed the Hunter with the Trip Mine's wave of heat and sudden energy burst. Even in his cocoon of Force, Revan's ears rung with recoil and his eyes burned from the amount of whiteness he saw.
When the deafness and blindness ended, Revan heard the crack of a Sniper round disrupt the sudden peace, and the crash of a heavy object falling down. Revan turned to see the Sniper salute back at Revan, only to be sniped by a Particle Beam Rifle bolt.
"Man down!" Revan called, hurrying back toward the lab. He lifted his DMR to take out the Jackal that had sniped the Sniper marine. Another Jackal popped its head out and managed to fire a shot at Revan's feet before blood spurted from a head wound.
How could I have forgotten the Elite Kill Team? Revan cursed at himself, ducking under a T-31 Needle Rifle bolt. A Fuel Rod sailed past his head and collided into the tech building, insignificantly harming the infrastructure but shattering all the glass windows. Revan turned the wall corner just as Plasma Repeater rounds ate away at the cloth on his legs. He Force Jumped up to the fallen Sniper, whom was suffering a shoulder wound.
"You alright?" Revan asked.
The marine grimaced. "I lost my concentration," he said. "That's how I got sniped."
"It's okay," Revan said. "Take a break." Revan set the man against a sandbag, giving him a canister of biofoam to let the marine treat his own injuries. "Now, treat yourself while I clear a landing zone." Revan unlatched a flare from his belt and ignited it. A trail of blue smoke traced from the open end. Revan threw the flare to the ground, picked up the Sniper Rifle, and reloaded its clip. Revan lifted the scope to his eye and spotted the Jackal Snipers on the rooftops. Particle beams zoomed by Revan's face as he counter-sniped the aliens. He drilled headshots into the Elites and Grunts on the lower ground in tandem with the marines' suppressive fire.
Revan's watch vibrated against his skin just as the last Elite was killed. "That was forty-three kills and seventeen assists, Tonthald!" a marine called.
"That was a sight for sore eyes," the wounded Sniper said. "Nice job clearing the LZ." Revan looked up to see a Pelican in the horizon, becoming closer with every second.
"Hanber should be done with my suit," Revan said. "Tell them to wait for me." Revan laid the Sniper Rifle down and carried his DMR by its shoulder strap and climbed down the ladder to the ground. Hanber had stepped out of the building with a folded pile of clothing, noticing Revan's scorched clothing.
"Had a good time?" Hanber asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I've had better days," Revan said. "A marine reported forty-three and seventeen in kill-assist ratio."
"There's the Warrant Officer requisite right there. But since you have to serve at least a month..."
"Rank doesn't matter. But the Gunnery Sergeant didn't follow my orders. If he did, we would have much more ammo and zero casualties." Hanber handed the clothing to Revan and noted the blue flare. "A Scarab is on its way here. Doctor Hanber, we should leave the premise. You would be much safer on the Orbital Defense Platforms now that the Covenant have invaded Earth."
"I appreciate your concern, but I must secure research. I shall be on the next flight to Accra, don't you worry."
Revan nodded as he put his cloak on and inserted his hands into his gloves. As he pulled them on to their snug fit, Revan felt something pierce his skin. It stung for a second, but subsided after thus. Revan, puzzled, fitted his mask on, which had many translucent polygons and shapes in his vision. A shield bar was at the top of his vision, smaller bars to show his bodily health. A motion sensor was continually scanning at the lower left. Grenade count was placed at the top left. Words saying "No Weapon" dominated the top right. His service tag, saying "E-383," was displayed at the bottom right.
"Do you see all of them?" Hanber asked. She went down the list, and Revan replied with an affirmation for each attribute. "In addition, click the button on the right side of your mask to engage the VISR sensor tech. All of this should keep you alive," Hanber said. "Spartan-385 offered her life for yours, and you must be alert to protect yourself from harm."
"Yes ma'am," Revan said. "I will do my best."
"Save humanity, stop the Halos' firing, and reconcile peace. Kill the Prophet of Redemption. That is all we need."
Revan nodded. He stepped onto the landed Pelican, the huge yellow dot on his motion sensor. For some reason, it carried a Scorpion Tank on its vehicle storage. Yet something tells me something isn't right. The Force is trying to tell me something, but it seems something is missing.
"There is a greater evil out there!" Master Vrook had said during his Mandalorian Wars Campaign. "Not just the Mandalorians! None of the Jedi Order should engage war with these barbarians, they are just a distraction!"
"I just wonder if he was right, that old man." Revan sighed as he took a seat on the Pelican chairs.
Meetra looked into the air, feeling a disturbance in the Force. Something blotted out the stars overhead, but Meetra stood her ground. It wasn't the same Force signature as the Covenant, even if the aliens were dead to the Force. No, it felt darker; more ravenous than a starved Rancor.
There was a ripple in the night sky, and a portal separated space, an enigmatic pattern within the perimeter of the circle. Meetra could only start running. She had to find Bastila. Only her. The less people involved, the better. Yet that wasn't the only reason.
A familiar Force signature was wavering out from that portal.
A/N: Yes, I have not updated in two f*ing months. Whoop-dee-doo.
I'm sorry, but as said on my Profile Page, it is just excuses. I did manage to get by that stumbling block though. I also did a minor revamp of Chapter 6 (previous chapter) about Revan's airlock-ed robes. I did some research about Force Powers on the Star Wars Wikia [starwars(dot)wikia(dot)com, replace "(dot)" with "."] and found that a combination of Force Barrier and Tapas creates an oxygen-rich environment in vacuum. You can read about this in Chapter 6, or go to the Star Wars Wikia for in-depth information.
Thanks! Starting Chapter 8 right now...
-Kai