The sun had disappeared from view, cloaking the cliffside in the darkness of night. Foehammer pulled her pelican in quietly, allowing the marines and Spartan-1337 to jump out. "Okay, Kelly," he said, readying his sniper rifle, "What are we lookin' at?"

"Multiple hostiles, primarily Grunts and Jackals. There's a Brute Chieftain taking a piss off to the side."

"Little too much information." He and the marines stalked up the ridge. True to Kalmiya's word, several Grunts and Jackals dotting the immediate area below, and a menacing Brute stood idly on the far side with his back turned. "Alright, people," 1337 whispered into his com, "If we're gonna reach the captain, we'll need to pick our targets carefully. Don't open fire until -"

"LERRROOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYY JEEEEEENKIIIIIIIIIIIIINNNNS!" one marine shouted, charging into the killbox with his assault rifle and immediately getting decimated by various plasma weapons.

"Goddammit. Open fire!" Having recieved no training with the sniper rifle whatsoever between missions, the Spartan stand-in switched to his own assault rifle. It was going to be a long night.

/-/

"Kelly, did we ever go over how we're gonna get up to that ship?"

"You weren't paying attention on the way here?"

"I was taking a nap."

Kalmiya sighed. "The ship uses a cylinder of artificially manipulated gravitons to transport entities between the ship and the ground."

"...Okay, say that again in English, please."

"There's a gravity lift we're gonna use, but it's probably heavily guarded."

"How heavily?"

"Reports from the main timeline say that the Master Chief faced two Hunters. But, given that we're here and there are Brutes, it could be just about anything."

"Gotcha. Oh! I found a pistol!"

"Why are you excited?"

1337 smirked. "Just wait and watch. You're gonna wish we hadn't discontinued the older models."

/-/

They reached the gravity lift, signalling their arrival by mowing down the legion of scrub troops that did a pitiful job of protecting it. "Okay, you said a couple of Hunters were on their way next?"

"I believe I said 'it could be just about anything,' actually."

At precisely that moment, two Hunters dropped from the ship, accompanied by a next-gen Wraith. "Oh, you've got to be shitting me," 1337 and Kalmiya said simultaneously. Kalmiya added, "Where did they even get that? That model isn't supposed to be in use for almost a year!"

"What can you tell me, Kelly?" 1337 asked urgently.

"The newer models of Wraith are equipped with manned plasma turrets for close-up engagements. Second-generation tanks were able to fire them automatically." 1337 rolled out of the way of a flurry of plasma before nearly getting flattened/disintegrated by a giant mortar. "They're equipped with superior armor to their predecessors and the mortar shots take half the time to recharge."

"Fan-fucking-tastic!" He pulled his pistol up, annoyed and slightly maniacal. "Kelly, you're about to witness God's wrath strike the enemy down, and fifty bucks says he does it in three shots."

"You're going to take two Hunters and a Wraith with a pistol?" She pondered the claim momentarily. "Alright, then. Have at it."

Dodging another volley from the tank, 1337 shot one Hunter square in the abdomen. The beast howled, dropping dead as a stone. The other one, which had somehow snuck up on him, reared up to crush him with its shield-club. 1337 fired the second time, taking its head off in an explosion of orange slime. "And now for the hat-trick!" He bolted for the Wraith, weaving through the hail of fiery plasma. He climbed on top, prying the hatch open to reveal an Elite. "Hello, ugly," he said, firing the third time. The shot ripped the elite in half, violet blood spraying the interior of the vehicle. With nobody to command it, the tank stopped, disabled indefinitely.

If Kalmiya had a jaw, it would have dropped to the floor. "How...?"

"First-generation pistols were vicious monsters, capable of one-shotting anything and damn near everything. Now, my fifty bucks?"

"Will have to wait. You see, I left my wallet in my other timeline."

"Well fuck you too."

/-/

Several hours of traversing the ship brought 1337 into what appeared to be the brig. On the back wall was the console that, according to the voice in the Spartan's head, would release the prisoners. Guarding said console was an Elite in impressive gold armor. "Must be the shipmaster," Kalmiya whispered. "I wonder what he's doing in the prison blocks?"

"We could ask," 1337 joked.

"Don't even try it." She began to think. "We need to get him away from the control pad so we can rescue the captain."

1337 stepped into open view, calling to the Elite, "Hey, dumbass! Over here!"

"What are you doing?!"

The alien ran at him as he pressed his back to the wall by the door. Once the shipmaster was close enough, the Spartan stuck his leg out, making the Elite trip and wang his head on the opposite wall. He followed up with a punch to the back of its head, and it was out like a light. "That," he finally answered.

"That... I don't even know how to respond to that. I'm just going to sit here while I try to figure out why that worked."

"And while you do that..." 1337 trotted up to the control panel, hitting the big red button that said "Release" on it. Every cell in the room opened, and three marines stepped out, followed by Captain Keyes. "Sir."

"Jesus Monkey Christ!" Keyes jumped. Once his pulse returned to normal, he breathed. "Stop doing that!"

"Good to see you too."

Keyes cleared his throat. "Anyway... Now that we're free, I can fill you in on what we learned." He began to explain the nature of Halo, and how the Covenant were looking for something called 'the Control Room.' "If Halo is a weapon, then you know what we have to do."

"Give me the fifty bucks you owe me for being right?" Kalmiya suggested.

"No. If Halo's a weapon, then we need to seize control of it before the Covenant does. But first thing's first: how are we going to evacuate?"

"Unless you can fly a tuning fork," one of the marines said, "I don't think -"

"Alright, then." The captain grabbed the shipmaster's needler, slapping another cartridge in to top off the magazine. "Look's like we're flying out."

"Huh?" Kalmiya asked. "Sorry, it sounded like you were planning to fly us out of here in a Spirit."

"I am. Chief, you take point."

"Shut up and get behind me... uh, Sir."

As 1337 led the group out of the brig, the shipmaster, now conscious once again, grabbed his ankle weakly. "Who... What are you?"

The Spartan grinned under his helmet, kneeling down. "I'm the Boogeyman, bitch." He stood back up, kicking the Elite's mandibles in.

/-/

The group arrived in the hangar and, as luck would have it, a two-pronged troopship sat suspended by docking clamps. The only thing standing between them and freedom was a phalanx of Jackals and a particularly formidable Brute Chieftain beyond. "You've impressed me," he said in a gutteral drawl. "Coming this far, only to fail."

"Actually," 1337 corrected, "we're here to swipe one of your ships so we can leave."

"Then you will die trying."

"Bet you we won't." He cleared his throat. "Marines! Pistols ready!" The three soldiers at the Spartan's back swapped out for their sidearms, taking aim at the gorilla. "Now, Donkey Kong, I'll make you a deal: let me and my friends leave with the captain, and we don't turn you into the galaxy's hairiest ball of Swiss cheese."

The Brute bellowed, "I'll sharpen my teeth on your bones!"

He hopped over the shield wall, instantly getting perforated by small arms fire. The Jackals, too afraid or stupid to do anything else, stood by, waiting for attack orders that would never come. 1337, not wanting to miss the opportunity, stepped towards them. He cleared his throat, then suddenly shouted, "BOO!"

The Jackals broke ranks, retreating as far as they could from the metal-covered man, who chuckled to himself as he released the ship from its restraints. "Give me a minute to interface with the ship's controls," Kalmiya said once everyone was onboard.

"No need," Keyes insisted, "I learned to fly one of these things when I was a soldier. Give me the wheel." A large door on the upper level of the hangar opened and a pair of Hunters stomped out, opening fire on the rogue transport. "That's just precious..." The ship rotated before ramming headlong into the duo, killing them instantly. "Buckle up," he called to the others, "we've got a war to win!"

/-/

"Hey, 1337," Kalmiya spoke.

"What's up, Kelly?"

"I've been thinking about that Chieftain we killed back on the ship. For a Brute, he was pretty articulate, don't you think?"

1337 pondered the accusation. "I guess he was, wasn't he? What about it?"

"Well... No, it's probably nothing. Forget I said anything."

"Come on, Kelly."

Kalmiya fumed - or would have if she had lungs. "If that Brute was who I think it is, then I get the feeling we haven't seen the last of him."

"No way! 'Galaxy's hairiest ball of Swiss cheese,' remember? He's not getting up from that."

"...You're probably right."