0155 hours, September 14, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Captured Covenant dropship, in Slipspace en route to Sol system
Jason-113 felt the Spirit dropship rattle and slow down--about fifteen to sixteen days had passed while he had been in Slipspace, and nothing particularly interesting had happened, except for six broken plasma motor-engines. About sixteen or fifteen days had passed during the ride to Sol system, and nothing particularly cool had happened, except a few broken plasma motor-engines.
He heard a faint whoosh and the U-shaped dropship entered Sol system, racing past Saturn and Jupiter. It shook again and stopped abruptly at the asteroid belt. Hundreds of space rocks rotated the area, and the dropship slowly but agilely rotated and navigated its way past the heavy rocks. Mars and the Earth's gray-white moon were visible, and a small beautiful, vast temple-like building stood tall and proud--Misriah Armory headquarters.
As Jason rotated around the moon, the blue-and-white-and-green sphere came into view, slowly rotating every second. Jason called HighCom's Bravo-6 facility, and Fleet Admiral Terrence Hood picked up. "Yes? Who is this?" The voice of Hood sounded vaguely disembodied because of the popping COM.
"SPARTAN One-One-Three." Jason replied with a firm voice.
"Yes? Who is this that is calling this facility?" Admiral Hood sat, business-like on his electromagnetic chair that floated slightly.
"SPARTAN One-One-Three." The voice had no hint of joking in it, but Hood knew better.
"Stop kidding around. Who are you and what do you want?" Hood was growling with irritation now.
Jason sighed. After thirteen or nineteen minutes of talk between him and the Fleet Admiral, the Admiral hadn't given in about "how you are not a Spartan" and "you will tell me what you're doing and what you want". He switched the COM off quietly and waited as the dropship came close enough. Sydney, Australia stood out especially because of its huge Bravo-6 facility that was placed there.
Forty or fifty patrolling guards with old MA3 assault rifles walked around the fort's perimeter, guarding it very well. Jason silently landed the Spirit XY at the area near the large Douglas firs and crept in silence, despite his MJOLNIR combat armor, and hopped out from among the trees. Almost immediately, assault rifle fire peppered away at his shields, eating the bar steadily but not quickly. Jason raised his hands, all weapons slung and clipped, and said, "I'm free."
The guards stared suspiciously but also in shock at the 6-foot-9-inch Spartan-II in front of them. They quietly pressed the green button on the control panel, and the quadruple large titanium-granite doors hissed-crunched open. Guards surrounded the walls, some with M41 LAAG chainguns stationed on the ceilings, and some with MA5B assault rifles or MA3 assault rifles. "What do you want, Spartan?" whispered a quiet, dangerous voice.
Jason whirled around, and saw the man who hated the Spartan-IIs--Colonel James Ackerson. His eyes shone a bright red, flickering with flames. His hair was tousled and a M6D handgun was aimed directly at Jason's head.
"Take him, guards." The orange-clothed guards stepped forward, rifles at the ready, but Jason was quicker. He knocked four of them out with a swipe of the butt of his battle rifle and sprinted for the entrance to the actual B-6 facility. A scan stopped him. "Scanning..." The computer's cool voice was calm, as if nothing had happened. "Identification verified. SPARTAN One-One-Three, you may proceed."
Ackerson's jaws split open for a second--he looked enraged and on fire. He fired rounds from his M6D pistol, which clanged off the heavy metal doors behind Jason.
Jason grinned, and shouted, "Mighty pleased to do your work, Colonel." For once, the Spartans had won against James Ackerson.
As Jason propelled himself through security doors and into barracks, he found a Lieutenant Commander sitting at a small plastasteel desk playing a game of spider solitaire with a Staff Sergeant Marine.
He made a crisp salute, ignoring the men's surprise and shock, then went out the other way. He followed his HUD's mini-GPS to Fleet Admiral Terrence Hood, and found the Admiral shuffling a deck of aces, 10s, 5s, 9s, and Jokers. "Sir." Jason saluted smartly, then slung his BR55 rifle.
"Ahh...Spartan. You defeated Ackerson's men with greatness. I admire you." His voice sounded hoarse, sad. "Although I fear...the Master Chief is dead. No sign of him for a few days now."
Jason felt the same way, but he kept his mouth shut. He polarized his visor to full, and looked on a TACMAP leading to the Great Barren Valley of Australia. Thousands of hundred thousands of soldiers were kept there, but now there only seemed like six hundred men. He turned off the TACMAP and depolarized his faceplate, so the Fleet Admiral could see his pale face crystal clear.