Gallun loped into the bivouac, dodging the milling Unggoy and hissing Kig-Yar. He could see from the way the supplies were stacked that this camp was about to be abandoned, and he couldn't blame them.
They had failed. The entire point of this operation had been to prevent the Heretics from smuggling out whatever they had stolen from the Holy Relic, and they had failed. All that was left now, was to secure the Holy Relic itself, and find out what the Humans had stolen.
That was not his concern though; he had already reported his findings on the security around the Relic site. His concern was the Demoness and what she represented.
Once he was away from her unholy aura, he had a chance to think about what had actually been said versus what he knew to be true. It was possible she was telling the truth, but it was equally possible she was lying.
While he had no proof of her claims of vast armadas, the way she fought and used the Dark Energy spoke to casual confidence and experience. Her people may not have a greater military power than the Covenant, but her people were real enough to have a unique way of fighting.
The Prophets and Chieftains needed to know!
And the Noble Hierarchs of the Sangheili, he supposed.
He strode into the clearing where the Ultra would be, only to find a scarred Major.
"Where is the Ultra? I must report my findings on the Demoness!"
The Major glanced up from the comm unit and flared his mandibles in confusion. "Your report? I thought Minor Don 'Phailee was assigned to deal with that."
"He," Gallun bit down the almost instinctive insult, "fell in battle. I bore witness to his final moments, and the heretical powers she used to defeat him. I attempted to avenge him but," his hand went to the still raw wound where the Demoness had cut him.
The Major sighed and shook his head. "A valiant effort, but if a Sangheili Minor could not best her, what hope would you have?" It was only through years of discipline that Gallun refrained from caving in the impudent Major's skull. "Well give your report, and I'll forward it."
"The Demoness fights with experience and discipline. It is a style unique from any I have seen before, and is ideally suited to those wielding Dark Energy. It is my estimation that she is indeed a member of an entire people distinct from the Heretics, and as such represents a grave danger to our Covenant should they be truly allied with the Humans."
He could see the Major start to muster a casual insult, as Sangheili often did when dealing with anyone other than the San'shyuum. His concentration was broken by the hum of approaching dropship.
"I'll forward you... report. You should get ready to redeploy; with Fleetmaster 'Vadamee chasing after the fleeing Human ship, it is now up to Fleetmaster 'Thedumee to seize this world." The Elite squared his shoulders and huffed. "Maybe now we won't have to chafe under 'Vadamee's timorous plan."
Gallun balked slightly. He held no love for any of the Elites, but the plan laid out by Fleetmaster 'Vadamee had been sound. To change it so suddenly, when as far as he knew the fleet had still not fully repaired any of the Excavation Beam equipped ships, felt foolhardy.
He would, as always, have to wait patiently, silently, and find the most opportune time to survive whatever was to come.
...
Dot brought up a strategic map of Reach for the Admiralty officers, both present and remotely visiting. "We've seen significant Covenant force redeployment in the two weeks since the departure of the Pillar of Autumn." The map began highlighting as she spoke.
"Almost all ground forces in the southern hemisphere have pulled back to their Polar Garrison. Satellite overflights of the various positions are indeterminate due to Covenant cloaking, but scouting teams have reported that the garrison there is about half dismantled.
"Forces in the northern hemisphere have redeployed to encircling positions around Sword Base. Our scouts at the North Polar Garrison report that almost all of the heavy armor has been recalled, but the ships are maintaining position."
The hologram shifted to a topographic map of the Babd Catha Ice Shelf. "It is mine and my colleagues' opinion that the Covenant are preparing to launch from the South Pole and assault Sword Base."
"Why there," Commodore Hackett, one of the Cruiser Squadron Commanders, leaned in. "I know it's the S-IV training center, but they were pushing us on all fronts except in space. Why give up their advantages?"
Dot flickered as she accessed the various clearances of the assembled officers, but then shut that search as ultimately irrelevant before continuing. "The S-IV training center is a ruse. The site is actually an ISA research center. There is a Forerunner derelict buried in the ice; that is likely what brought the Covenant to Reach in the first place."
She allowed precisely three seconds of yelling and pointing before emitting a burst of white noise to drown everyone out. "Both ISA Security Director Udina and the UTSG Secretary General agreed to leave this site where it is. Reach is too developed, and too strategically important to abandon."
Admiral Rolland rapped his arm rest for attention. "Whatever the reasons or justifications for that decision, we have to address the reality as is: the Covenant are redeploying to take Sword Base."
"That still doesn't answer why," Hackett thumped a finger on his armrest. "Why now, and not when they first arrived?"
Dot changed the map to show the departure of the Pillar of Autumn, and a pursuing Covenant force. "Our intel suggests that the initial Commander OpFor, one Thell 'Vadamee, was leading the force that pursued the Autumn. He was the architect of last year's campaigns. The Chain of Command as we understand it next falls to Djo 'Thedumee. There are conflicting reports as to how he secured his position, though most agree it was through political maneuvering rather than martial skill."
Hackett leaned back in his chair. "Do we think we can use that against him? Bait him out with a juicy target, then beat the bag out of him?"
Captain Hargrove of the Staff of Charon shook his head. "We just don't have the ships. If we move out in order to match their South Polar fleet in open space, we'd need to deploy the entire fleet. That would leave only the aerospace forces assigned to Neibelungen to try and check the North Polar fleet, and that's not enough."
He manually altered the map to show one of the ring station's space elevator tethers. "They just need to get a light cruiser within a thousand klicks, pop into the ionosphere and get one good shot at a tether, and Neibelungen will rip herself apart." He leaned back and frowned. "Once that happens, that's it: Reach will fall."
"Not necessarily," Admiral Rolland brought up a message. "I've received word from Arcturus Station: the Citadel Council had requested permission to send a military relief force to Reach. It has Admiral Drescher's Approval."
He continued talking over the building murmur. "The force is sixty-three Citadel ships, and their Prowler escort. They are currently en route to Gliese 1061. Once they arrive in ten days, they will prepare to advance here. That will take them a day at most."
Hackett frowned at the Citadel's request. "What can we expect from a Citadel force? They haven't exactly impressed over time."
Dot switched to an Order of Battle report. "From our limited intel assets in Citadel Space, they have learned from their previous missteps. Their fleet appears to be five squadrons each consisting of two light Carriers, four heavy Frigates, and two groups of three Corvettes. Our estimates of course. The rest of the ships are logistics, and Command-&-Control."
The officers were all murmuring again.
Captain Hargrove scratched his chin. "Twenty Frigates and thirty Corvettes won't do much against even one Covenant ship, much less a fleet."
"Captain Okita assures that the ships are more impressive than they seem on paper," Admiral Rolland brought up a short section of the OoB list. "Besides, it's the Carriers that matter. Each one has five squadrons of Tactical Bombers, Fighter Bombers, and Space Dominance Fighters, all designed with the Citadel's relativistic Lightning-Strike tactics in mind."
He brought up a wire-frame of an alien space plane. "They are all short-range FTL equipped, and can run up to point one Cee in a second flat."
Hackett gave a short barking laugh. "Hell, at that speed they could just throw empty beer cans at the Covies."
Rolland nodded. "Exactly." He closed the image down and brought up the strategic map again. "So knowing that, we need to put together a plan to get the Covies where we want them, when we want them, and have it ready in ten days."
...
Fleetmaster Djo 'Thedumee!
Djo could never hear that title enough. He'd already had to punish several Ordinates for forgetting his new rightful title. He cared little for whatever false lead had sent Thel 'Vadamee fleeing after a lone Human ship; it had opened the path for his own ascendence to greatness!
"Fleetmaster," his latest aide bowed piously, "the last of our forces have returned from deployment. We should have all troops returned aboard their ships within seven days."
Djo growled and snapped his mandibles in irritation. "Damn Thel for scattering our forces all over this planet! We should have assaulted the Holy site from the beginning, not timidly stretched our forces across the planet."
There was a momentary pause, but this Aide had apparently learned his predecessor's lesson about contradicting a Fleetmaster.
"Ensure Ultra Aul 'Thedrama knows not to advance against the Holy site until I give the word. Once I have cleared the stars of these pathetic Heretics, we will wipe them from the surface of this Holy Land!"
The Aide bowed deeper. "As you command, Fleetmaster."
Djo smiled as the Aide left, and went back to his battle simulations, as he played out his upcoming victory over and over again.
...
Aethyta was back in the mess hall of Sword Base. Once more, the room bustled with nearly three hundred occupants. Every Spartan Team had been recalled, since the Covenant had pulled back from every front. Local Garrison forces were more than up to the task of clearing out the holdouts.
Meanwhile the Parade and Exercise fields had been converted into Tent-Cities, needed to house the full Regiment of UNSC Mechanized Infantry. Those troops were getting their briefings by their own commanders, while she and the Spartans were being briefed by Commandant Norris.
"So that's the deal: we and the 18th Mechanized 'Iron Division' will faint a breakout against the Western Covenant Division, to try and draw the three other Divisions in. Once they move, ODST and Fleet Marine Brigades will deploy from Neibelungen to the North-Eastern flank. If we can drive them into Sword Base, then the scuttling charges that have been planted will do most of the work for us."
"And the rest of the Covies," Spartan Buck asked. "I don't reckon they'll just sit on the sidelines and watch."
"Fleet has a plan for them," Dean glared at the Spartan, "and we don't have a need to know. Suffice to say, they aren't leaving us swinging in the wind on this one. Dismissed. Matriarch Aethyta, could I see you for a moment?"
The Matriarch wove her way through the throng to Dean's office. Once the door was closed and security systems activated, he brought up a hologram of a Citadel ship.
"Part of Fleet's plan that I couldn't talk about is that your people are sending forces our way." He plopped down into his chair and steepled his fingers. "I could make all kinds of appeals to you, but the long and short of it is you've done way more than should have ever been needed; certainly more than we could have asked. Once your ships are in system, we'll put you in a Longsword and jump you to your people."
Aethyta wasn't surprised by either the gesture or sentiment. She'd come to find that Humans were social to the extreme, and would form bonds with anyone and anything nearby.
"Thanks. Do you want me to keep a lid on this, or-"
Dean laughed. "If Noble 02 doesn't know by now, she'll figure it out before evening Colors. Don't go yelling it over Giant-Voice, but go ahead and let your team know so they can say goodbye."
"Will all this be before or after the great deceit?"
"After." He levered himself out of his chair. "One last hurrah before you hit the black."
She nodded and snapped a salute, before turning and heading back to Noble Team.
...
Madame Orinia, Diplomat in Extraordinary, now Rear Admiral, let out a calming breath. The ship's main monitor showed a comforting, if unfamiliar starfield, now that they had exited the strange quasi-space of Slipstream.
She had been genuinely surprised when Councilor Sparatus had contacted her, with her official orders for reactivation.
"You devised these strategies for dealing with the UTSG and associated forces. It is only right that you should see them through to fruition."
She'd heard the uncomfortable subharmonics that Sparatus tried to suppress, but she didn't really care how bitter he was about his own earlier political blunders. This mission was one she had been trained for, prior to her elevation to the Diplomatic Corps.
She watched as the last of her forces dipped into the upper atmosphere of the outer gas giant in the Red Dwarf system: one last discharge as they waited for the signal from Reach.
"Admiral," she glanced over to the communications officer, "Flash Traffic from the UNSC Sea of Stars. Captain Okita sends his regards: Fortune favors the Bold."
She nodded. "Send my return regards: Chance favors the prepared mind."
She waited as the countersign was sent.
"Ma'am, coordinates, timetables, system maps, and OpFor strength coming in."
She looked over the data, and noted the division among the enemy forces.
"Call up the Captains. We have forty-eight hours before we need to launch to meet the UNSC timetables."
...
Gallun sat on his ridge, overlooking the Holy Site. He had watched and reported for three days as armored units and Demons flocked to the site.
The current Ultra was yet another Elite elevated to his position by virtue of his ability to praise his betters. It was a failing of Sangheili society which seemed to have no remedy, though he feared that he would ultimately suffer for their flaws.
Whatever his personal opinion of Fleetmaster Thel 'Vadamee, the Elite had been a cagey commander. His division of forces had stretched the Humans thin as skin on a drumhead. But now, with all fronts being closed, the Humans had also consolidated.
The force that currently resided in the Human base was not the sort you used to defend, but to attack.
Despite this, his warnings went unheard. The current Ultra was content to allow the Humans to fly in reinforcements from all over the world, trusting blindly in the superiority of the Covenant to overwhelm the Heretics.
Gallun fully expected that such was not the Humans' intent. They would attack, and given the mobility of the gathered forces, they would do so with great speed and ferocity.
Gallun absently gnawed on a fish he had caught earlier. It was good that the meat of this world was so pleasant to taste, as he feared he may never get the chance to leave.
...
Ultra 'Thedrama paced his command center while nervously flexing his mandibles.
On one hand, he was out from under the chafing control of Thel 'Vadamee, and now was poised within figurative spitting distance of the Holy Site they had Crusaded after all this time. On the other, Shipmaster 'Thedumee (he refused to pander to his cousin's ego) had ordered him to sit and wait. He knew Djo's mind. This had nothing to do with prudence, or even bold strategy. Djo simply wanted the glory for himself.
Still, he could not casually disobey the promoted Shipmaster, without good reason; so he waited and watched as the Heretics tried to amass their pitiful defenses.
"Ultra," he was stirred from his musings as one of his Majors rushed up, "Fleetmaster for the Fleet of Righteous Vigilance reports the Heretics are moving their fleets. They have taken suppressing positions over the North Pole."
'Thedrama scoffed. "What do they hope to accomplish? We know they lack the conviction to fire on our-"
He was interrupted as alarms sounded throughout the camp. As they both looked up, the camp's tactical shield sprung to life. Hundreds of explosions rippled across the shield and the surrounding taiga, destroying several vehicles and infantry platoons caught outside the shield.
"Their fleet is attacking," the Major shouted as he looked around at the mayhem.
'Thedrama cuffed him across the head. "This is artillery, not orbital bombardment. Find out if the other encampments are being hit as well."
The Major ran off, and returned in a few moments. "Ultra, no other force is being hit."
'Thedrama laughed and shook his head. "It seems the Humans have at last found a spark of courage. Ready the troops." He stood and grabbed his plasma sword. "The Humans mean to attack here in force; when they do, order all remaining Divisions to move in and seize the Holy Site."
He grinned wickedly as his forces began organizing for the attack.
"So sorry cousin, but it would seem the glory will be mine today!"
...
Aethyta clung to the 'Jesus Handle' of her Warthog. Phillip was driving, while Jorge manned the heavy machine gun. She could just make out the flickering motion of near supersonic artillery rounds sailing overhead.
She was genuinely impressed how well the UNSC had integrated Omni-tool based mini-facturing; the Scorpion Artillery Fighting Vehicles of the 18th Mech could completely replenish their ammunition stores with their internal Omni-gel tanks, and those tanks could be refilled either by built-in matter-disassembles, or simply by swapping out the cannisters. In a staggered advance like they were using, they could provide continuous Battalion fire all the way up to point of contact.
"Hold on!" Phillip jerked the wheel to avoid a Plasma Mortar Bomb.
Which was right about now. The thirty Hornet Gunships, which had been flying low and slow behind the fifty Warthog Gun-Jeeps to avoid being clipped by the artillery, bounced up and rushed forward. The entire 300 Spartan detachment charged the Covenant Division with seeming reckless abandon.
Aethyta knew it was not reckless, but rather a calculated distraction: the infantry component of the 18th Mech was fast on their heels, with both airborne infantry and Mantis Armor Defense Systems, as well as light Infantry moving with the Scorpions.
As expected, the line of Wraith Mortar and Anti-Air Tanks began pulling back. The various tidbits of intelligence they had collected over the last several months included psyche profiles on the Covenant Chain-of-Command.
The Ultra assigned to the encirclement of Sword Base was known to be a competent commander, but one who felt he was intentionally held back. The Brass had felt that, given the opportunity, he would move incautiously to take Sword Base. The ironically named Ultra Aul 'Thedrama was about to get all the drama he could stomach.
The battalion of Spartans slammed into the forward lines of the Covenant force, focusing on Air-Defense rather than infantry and armor.
"Echo," Phillip pointed at a Wraith A-A tank trying to swerve behind a rock formation, while harassing a flight of Hornets.
She snapped a Singularity at the vehicle, lifting a support gunner high into the air. The Singularity detonated as Jorge poured HMG tracer fire into the vehicle. This opened a hole in the A-A coverage that multiple flights of Hornets rushed through.
As the Spartans pushed deeper into the Covenant force, they carved a wider and wider gap in Air Defense coverage, until one of the teams finally reached the tactical shield generator. The now familiar spire-and-dish toppled, and the rippling blue dome over the Covenant forces faded away.
Aethyta spared a glance as several flights of Pelicans raced overhead. Some began circling, with radio chatter spiking as Spartan teams began calling fire missions for the AD-77 Manticore Gunships. Others pushed on towards the ridge where 'Thedrama had his Command Post. The mountain range would have hampered the tanks of the 18th, but not its light Infantry and Mantis Armor Systems.
The Matriarch spared thought to how many commanders she had known in her long life, who would have railed at the 'injustice' of being 'denied glory'.
Phillip dodged another Plasma Mortar bomb, and she was snapped back to the here-and-now.
Time to make mom and dad proud.
...
Ultra Aul 'Thedrama bit back a snarl.
He had expected that the Humans would attack his position, as it was the best route of escape. What he had not expected was for them to slam into him in force like a Brute charge. They had committed everything to assaulting his Division. His Sub-Majors, who had already begun to advance into the Holy Site, were not responding to his demands for support.
Obviously, they were intent on securing the Glory of taking the Relic for themselves!
His Minors and personal guards were doing their best against the onslaught, but the Heretics had seemingly stolen vast numbers of Area Defense Gauntlets. It seemed as if every Human troop had one, flicking them on and off as they bounded down the mountain.
Behind them, as well as below coming up, were gangly two legged mechanical gun carriages. Their shields were much more robust, allowing them to weather fire that would have once destroyed a Heretic tank.
He would need to take personal command of the situation, once he was no longer being harrassed by Humans.
He pointed at two fellow Sangheili in Major armor. "You two, come with me. I must... inspect the battlefield." He then turned and headed towards the small flight of Banshees, meant to protect the Command Post.
...
Fleetmaster 'Thedumee was enjoying a meal between simulations of his impending victory, and the endless status reports on equipment transfers. They were now down to the heaviest pieces of gear: the Scarab Siege Walkers, and the various repeater towers that projected the shields and cloaks over his fleet.
The doors to his chambers slid open as an Ordinary rushed in. "Fleetmaster, I bring news!"
Djo growled as he set his cup down. "If it is not of the greatest importance, you will be leaving without your head!"
The Ordinary dropped to one knee. "Ultra Aul 'Thedrama has begun attacking the Holy Site! The Heretics have moved their fleet to suppress the Northern Fleet."
Djo stared for a moment, almost not comprehending the words. Had he not given specific orders to his cousin Aul?! Now, the Humans were out of position! Their concentrated...
He grinned before standing. The Humans had played perfectly into his hands; once he jumped his fleet to the space between the two moons, he could safely advance on the Heretic fleet and their devilish station. His ships would rain fire from a comfortable distance, while the Northern Fleet attacked from below!
"Send word to the Shipmasters: all ships are to prepare to jump now."
"But sir, we have not-"
Djo stormed over to the Ordinary. "Yours is not to question my orders, only obey them!"
"At once, Fleetmaster!" The Ordinary rushed out of the chamber.
Djo returned to donning his ceremonial armor. His coming victory, as well as his cousin's punishment for disobedience, demanded only the finest.
...
"Admiral Rolland," Dot appeared on a pedestal, "scouts report the Southern Fleet is maneuvering for an atmospheric jump."
Rolland chuckled and shook his head. "Impetuous youth. Send word to Dame Admiral Orinia: they're about to come into position."
Dot nodded and flickered away, being replaced by an orbital map, with one location blinking on and off: the lagrange point between Csodaszarvas and Turul, the only place to jump that was within striking distance of Reach, while still protected from Niebelungen.
...
Vice Admiral Orinia glanced at the notification from the UNSC.
"Carrier Zug-Zug, standby for tasking. Lieutenant, signal the Bierra; let them know they have incoming, and signal back once the Covenant are in the pocket."
She looked at the holographic map of the Reach planetary system ten light minutes below her. While the Citadel Forces had not yet received any of the Superluminal Scanning Arrays coming out of Sur'kesh, the integration of miniaturized Com-Beacons into her Command Dreadnaught and the Flight II Ormandy Frigates meant she still had real-time intelligence.
The Cruiser and Frigate squadrons lurking on the dark side of the larger satellite lacked the system, but they could still receive her orders in real time. All that was left was to wait for the Covenant.
The minutes dragged on until an icon lit up between the two moons.
All she needed to do was nod, and her subordinates began the attack.
The first wave of bombers launched from the Volus Carrier and immediately flashed to FTL, while the Carrier crews readied the hangar both to launch the second wave, as well as receive the bombers launched by her sister ship the Qwuoba.
Meanwhile the Cruiser and Frigate Varren-Packs began circum-orbiting the larger moon. Once they had independent confirmation of the individual enemy ships' positions, they would accelerate to their terminal attack speed of .1 Cee. They would be making continuous 'Figure Eight' orbits of the larger moon and Reach to pin the enemy force along the orbital plane, while the bomber strikes would hammer them from zenith and nadir.
All told, it was the perfect battlespace for the fight these ships had been built for. She just needed to be ready for when the Titans decided to muddle things up.
...
Fleetmaster 'Thedumee was knocked off his feet as his flagship shook.
"Report!"
"Fleetmaster," one of the Ordinaries yelled as they clung to their monitor, "The fleet reports multiple ships struck by relativistic impacts from above; Augur Arrays are detecting ships orbiting the larger moon to attack position!"
Djo froze for a moment as he tried to visualize the battlespace while looking at a holographic map. Humans were known to use orbital slingshot maneuvers to try and compensate for their pathetic technology. He could see the icon for the attacking vessels; none were any larger than a Zanar Light Cruiser.
He growled in frustration that, despite the efforts of the handful of Huragok working throughout the invasion, none of the Plasma Lances or Excavator beams had been repaired.
Yet another blemish on Thel 'Vadamee's storied reputation.
It didn't matter: their technology and mission were both gifted by and in the name of the Gods; they could not fail!
"All ships, ready Plasma Torpedoes. Ket Pattern ships to the fleet perimeter. Standby to guide our fury to the Heretics. Zanar Pattern Attack ships will deploy above and below the fleet to screen against any further attacks from there."
He watched as the fleet reorganized; the light cruisers arranging themselves broadside onto the last attacks, while the heavy cruisers moved to the edge of the formation.
"All Shipmasters report ready, Fleetmaster."
Djo sneered. "All ships, fire!"
...
Captain Vestian watched as the range counter ticked down. He had read and reread Victus' military reports on Covenant capabilities, and he absolutely did not want to get within Plasma Beam range.
Unfortunately, the enemy fleet had started maneuvering almost as soon as they had rounded the horizon. Without accurate positional data, their Disruptor Torpedoes would miss their marks.
"Captain," one of the technicians called from his station, "electromagnetic emissions just spiked from the perimeter of the fleet."
Vestian brought the data up on the central holo-projector, just before the entire enemy fleet erupted in swirling targets the computer labeled 'Plasma Torpedoes'. He thanked the Spirits for the recent Target Discriminator VIs developed by the Elcor; they may have been made in response to Human missile swarm tactics, but they would save lives against the Covenant.
Looking at the range counters, he estimated he had ten seconds to act. Remembering a piece of advice from one of his early naval instructors, he gave himself five seconds to get a grip of the battlespace.
In twenty seconds, the Qwuoba would launch the second wave of bombers. He needed to soften the enemies' shields with a Disruptor Torpedo strike, but to do that without flying into the teeth of Covenant GARDIAN and Close-In Weapons Systems, he needed to accelerate up to attack speed. Doing so would result in his squadrons plowing through the middle of the Plasma swarm.
"Plasma... Magnetic Guidance!" He buzzed in excitement. "Vestian, all ships: fire Thanix into your projected flight paths, then accelerate to attack speed and launch!"
He heard acknowledgements throughout his squadron, just before space filled with intense beams of supercharged Uranium Ions. He grinned as narrow corridors of Plasma Torpedoes were opened, and the magnetic flux of the Turian Particle Beams disrupted the electro-magnetic guidance of the torpedoes.
His ships all flashed forward to a tenth of the speed of light, only one Frigate being destroyed as they passed through the torpedo volley. They were one second away from the enemy fleet when his frigates cold-launched their own torpedoes, then broke off and began their circum-orbit of Reach to begin their harassment of the Covenant, transmitting what he had learned to Admiral Orinia and Captain Harkon of the second Squadron.
...
Djo watched in satisfaction as the might of the Covenant bore down on the meager attacking force. Satisfaction turned to puzzlement as the volley began losing cohesion, with dozens of torpedoes in almost laser-straight lines suddenly going wildly off course. A tenth of the volley had self-destructed or flown into other torpedoes, when the Heretics rushed forward at an impossible speed.
He had only one second to see the alarm icon for Dark Energy, before the van of his fleet was hammered with Gravity Torpedoes. Two Ket Pattern ships imploded, while a dozen more were completely immobilized when their Repulsor Drives gave out due to competing gravitic forces. Still more ships, nearly a tenth of his remaining force, reported partial or total shield collapse.
Then he was thrown off his feet again; this time the attack came from below. When he had his feet, fifteen warships and half of his attack ships were gone, with another fifteen reporting massive damage across all systems.
This is not how this battle is supposed to go, he screamed internally. My plan was perfect! It couldn't be thwarted by these Heretics! Unless...
He began wheezing as he looked around frantically for the cause of this monumental failure. There had to be a traitor; there was no other explanation.
"Fleetmaster, new contacts approaching from behind!"
He lunged forward and stabbed the Menial through the chest with his sword. As the weight slid from his blade, his vision cleared. He looked around the silent bridge.
"Treason is Heresy, and Heresy is death! Order all ships to advance on the planet, Flank Speed!"
...
Dot monitored the sensor feeds from dozens of sources, including a discreet superluminal laser-comm from the Citadel Fleet. She watched as the enemy spaceforce lurched forward in a pell-mell charge out of the kill box. She calculated the various forces' rates and angles of closure, and sent several small course adjustment suggestions.
Once those were confirmed, she waited twelve point two eight seconds, and fired every anti-ship missile in Nibelungen's Northwest quadrant.
...
Admiral Orinia watched as her forces adjusted their various attack patterns in response to the UNSC request. It was surprisingly elegant, and would result in every formation hitting the enemy fleet within one second of each other, without the danger of crossing friendly fire.
Still, it would take a few more passes before the Covenant were-
"Admiral, massive missile deployment from the UNSC ring station!"
She factored in the new data, including the radiological warning from every Human missile. If those weapons were what she thought they were...
She manually shut down the Mass-Effect scanning beam, but left the communication lasers alone, and watched the engagement through the 'eyes' of the Humans.
There was an initial flash of Gamma, X, and Hard UV radiation as hundreds of multi-megaton thermonuclear warheads all detonated. The peculiar Human warheads focused the energy into a one-two punch of ionizing radiation lasers, and self-forging plasma penetrators that ravaged the van of the oncoming force of nearly three hundred ships.
Some craft were destroyed outright, while others were crippled and slewed wildly into their comrades. The rest plowed through the wreckage, weakening their own shields in the process.
Two hundred ships.
Then her forces struck. The two Varren Pack Squadrons launched the remainder of their Disruptor Torpedoes, then raked Thanix fire across the Fleet's flanks as they flashed past. Only one ship was hit by the sporadic return fire, while dozens of Covenant ships were crippled or destroyed.
Again, the Covenant bulled through their brethren, weakening themselves in the process.
One hundred ships.
Finally, the combined bomber strikes from the Zug-Zug and the Qwuoba struck from above and below almost simultaneously. Hyper-relativistic impactors smashed through weakened shields as easily as she would put a talon through a sheet of paper. Space filled with wreckage flying in every direction, only to be pushed aside.
One ship.
Orinia was about to retask some of her forces, when the lone Assault Carrier was swarmed by fighters launched from the station: first dozens, then hundreds. The small craft lashed out at the exposed weapons of the great ship.
The enemy was not without teeth, as a half dozen hangars disgorged hundreds of fighters.
"Carriers Zug-Zug and Qwuoba, scramble all space dominance fighters in support of the Human colony."
She reactivated her ship's ME superluminal scanner, and settled in to watch the final battle for Reach.
...
Fleetmaster 'Thedumee spat out a tooth as he stumbled back to his feet. That last attack had thrown him from the command dias. He staggered up to his throne and looked over the various monitors; his weapons were gone, his strike craft were being picked off by the handful, and the Heretics had disabled his Repulsor Drives with another wave of Dark Energy missiles.
At least the Augur Arrays were still operational. He could see his ship was stalled in high orbit. It would be uncomfortable, and undignified for someone of his station, but the Insertion Pod bay was yet undamaged. If he could make his way there, he could land on the planet and transfer his Flag to the Northern Fleet. With that force, and the enemy now exposed, he could-
His mandibles flared in confusion as he watched the Northern fleet begin to shift.
They would not dare to move without his-
The North Pole was bathed in radiation as the Northern Fleet made an in-atmosphere Slip-Jump.
He jabbed at the controls and brought up the Hyperscanner, but there was no trace of the fleet within the system.
He began wheezing again as he stared at the monitor.
"Heretics...Blasphemers...Traitors!"
He drew his plasma sword and raised it to strike the hollow table, when a short burst of fire rang out from below. Djo dropped his sword and clutched his neck as he collapsed back into his throne. His vision blurred as a white shape came up the ramp towards him. The Demon rounded the table as he choked, grasping for-
-BANG-
Lieutenant Senior Grade Sarah Palmer swept her Magnum around the CAS Class Carrier's bridge, looking for any other Covenant troops that might be hiding.
"Palmer to Infinity, bridge is secure."
Copy Palmer, Lieutenant Lasky, who was coordinating the various Spartan Teams' efforts to capture the mostly intact Assault Carrier, squawked over her radio. Once Marine and Fleet detail arrive, proceed to Aux Command. Head on a swivel Spartan.
"Copy Infinity, holding position."
She continued observing the bridge, then spotted the Plasma Sword the dead Elite had been brandishing. She picked it up and checked it over, noting that its charge was nearly full. She shrugged, pocketed it, and went back to standing watch.
Maybe she could trade it for a steak dinner before the market was flooded with them.
...
Ultra Aul 'Thedrama barely managed to land his Banshee in the courtyard of the Heretic base. Both his escorts had died to help him esca-redeploy, and take command of the three Divisions that had failed to come to his aid.
He climbed out of the ruined vehicle as it gave one last sputter and shut down. Looking around, he saw many Unggoy and Kig-Yar, but only one fellow Sangheili.
"You," he pointed to the lone Elite, "where is the Major in command of this Division?"
"Ultra," the soldier snapped to attention, "the Majors have been trying to reach you. They are trying to find the source of the communications jamming."
"That would be me," a nearby monitor lit up to show a Human female. "Are you the Commander of Ground Forces?"
Aul brandished his sword at the screen. "I am Ultra Aul 'Thedrama of the Covenant's mighty-"
"I take that as a yes," Aul was almost certain the Human was being cheeky. "I have a message from Commandant Norris: Please smile, and wait for the flash."
With that, the screen went dark.
...
Gallun paced nervously. He could see the Covenant had successfully taken the Holy Site. It should have been safe to rejoin, but every time he considered it, he felt a twinge as if he was the one being stalked.
A lone, battered Banshee sputtered into the base, from which strutted out yet another preening Elite. He watched as the Ultra ignored all the troops on the ground, and began yelling at one of his own kind. There was a short exchange with one of the flat monitors the Humans used, and then the earth heaved.
Gallun clutched a tree for support, and watched as the valley between him and the Holy Site bulged up, then collapsed in on itself. The Human base toppled into the smoldering pit that had opened underneath.
It took some minutes for the smoke and dust to clear enough to see; but then, there was nothing left to see. The base and everything in it was gone.
Gallun blinked at the destruction before him, then walked back to his small camp. He'd seen several very promising spots in his time stalking the Demoness. The clearing near the falls to the west had been especially inviting.
He grabbed one of his rations made from local dried meat and set off at an easy lope.
At least the meat was sweet here.
...
Aethyta leaned against an overturned Warthog, gathering her wits and her breath.
The last several hours had been a mad rush all over the battlefield, dashing from hot-spot to fire-fight to unexploded ordnance. The team was a wreck, with Carter, Jorge and Emile all laid up at a field hospital after tackling a dropship filled with Brutes. They'd had some kind of pseudo-Hanar that apparently could make them nearly invulnerable.
After pulling their team out of the wreck and into a battlefield ambulance, herself, Jun, Phillip, and Kat had all headed back into the field.
By that point, the battle was over. Reports were coming in from all over the battle-net: the ground divisions that had moved into Sword Base were all annihilated when a Havok Warhead was detonated inside the Forerunner Derelict. Then there were the reports that the Southern Fleet had been destroyed in detail, while ODST recon units said the Northern Fleet had jumped out.
The Battle of Reach was won, and everywhere she looked were jubilant Humans and AI. Some had collapsed on the ground, weeping and hugging anyone nearby, others were screaming obscenities at the dead Covenant in almost rabid ecstasy.
Kat staggered over to Aethyta's Warthog, and slumped to the ground next to her.
"It's almost surreal," the Spartan unsealed her helmet and set it between them. "There have been a few hard-won victories in the war, but this? We didn't just drive them off, we beat them." She stared at her helmet for a moment before looking at the Matriarch. "Thanks to you, we have a chance."
Aethyta opened her mouth, then reflexively threw up a Barrier as she felt the distinctive radiation of a Covenant Particle Beam Rifle shot. The beam struck above their heads and rocked the truck causing both women to hit the deck. A moment later, a single gunshot rang out.
Sorry, sorry, Spartan Buck from Fireteam Osiris came over the radio. Been chasing that squirrely bastard all over Hell's-Half-Acre for twenty minutes.
Kat re-secured her helmet with a huff. "I'm not dying now from a random sniper; that would just be dumb, and Emile would never let my reputation survive."
Both ladies stood, as a Pelican descended towards them. Kat gripped Aethyta's hand. "I know you're heading back to the Citadel, but if you ever come back this way, you'll always be welcome with Noble Team."
...
Three weeks earlier
...
Saren stood before the image of Sovereign. "We have located the Mu Relay, but still do not know the location of the Conduit."
Irrelevant, the voice boomed throughout the room, and throughout Saren's mind. Take the Hanar through the Relay, and find it.
Saren hesitated; his teams were so close to finding the key to maintaining his autonomy. He would have been closer, if he could have collected more samples of the Thorian Spores.
Damn that Vakarian for destroying everything on Ferros!
"What of my projects here? Okeer says he is days away from a breakthrough. Surely they can search without my oversight-"
Irrelevant, the voice boomed again, though Saren felt phantom echoes from the declaration. You have toiled on this world, scrabbling after false glories because I have allowed it. Now you will depart and seek the conduit, because I demand it!
There was a momentary lull in the oppressive sense of otherness. If you are concerned about the projects, leave T'Soni. Her utility to me has reached its limit.
The baleful red hologram faded, and Saren staggered out of the room. Benezia was waiting dutifully there. "What does our master command?"
Saren heard the almost vacant intonation of someone deep in the throws of indoctrination. There was no need to hide his sneer of contempt at the so-called wise Matriarch, now little more than a puppet for her betters.
"I am to depart through the Mu Relay with the Hanar, to find this Conduit. You are to remain here and ensure all projects continue. Our Master expects results before I return."
Benezia bowed in deference. "As it is commanded, so shall it be done."
Saren was stalking away before she stood, and did not see the pain and rage flickering in the Asari's eyes.