Unknown Planet, Suborbital Trajectory
August 31, 2552, 0236 hours
With a grace that belied its size, the Pillar of Autumn passed through the upper atmosphere of the planet. Ablative plating held firm as it had endured far worse than the flames of reentry. The poor aerodynamic nature of the Autumn's hull helped in slowing it somewhat, but as it transitioned to the lower atmosphere it was still traveling several kilometers per second.
A Marine on watch at Point Alpha would spot it first, calling out as the distant speck of black metal broke through clouds over the ocean, far to the west. In haunting silence from their perspective, the speck quickly grew into the recognizable shape of the Autumn. As word spread throughout the camp, Marines and ODSTs hunkered down in foxholes or inside the parked Pelicans, sheltering from the inevitable shockwave.
What little engine power it had slowed its descent and shallowed out the approach angle. The Autumn slowed even further, water vapor in the air steaming off of its hull as the metal rapidly cooled. The keel of the ship slammed into the shallow seawater, hitting the seabed less than a kilometer from the shoreline. If the impact slowed the Autumn, it was barely noticed as it continued to plow towards dry land. It let off a thunderous noise, the ground itself rumbling from the impact.
The over a kilometer-long ship left a trench behind it as it slid onto the shore and through a woody area. Finally, the great vessel began to slow, coming to a stop nearly five kilometers from the water's edge. It left behind a trail of destruction nearly a hundred meters deep and over three hundred wide. The Autumn had landed near completely level to its size, weight, and relatively flat underside. Its hull steamed as the residual heat slowly dissipated from entry, the maneuvering thrusters finally cutting off as the autopilot put the ship into standby mode.
As multiple Pelicans swooped towards the ship, carrying Marines and engineers to secure the ship from within and without, over two dozen smaller objects streaked towards the LZ. The eighteen lifeboats flew in a wide formation, the five Longswords and the Autumn's final Pelican flying escort. The pair of Albatrosses flew behind them, slow and lumbering compared to the other craft.. The two cargo shuttles peeled off from the formation and headed for Point Alpha, while the Longswords followed the lifeboats all the way to approach altitude. The escort finally broke off to allow the lifeboats to deploy their airbrakes, and the Pelican slowed and dipped to the ground.
The Pelican came to a stop only two meters off the ground, Spartan 117 disembarking as the Pelican's Warthog was disengaged. Without a moment's hesitation, he clambered into the LRV's open cab and took off through the sparse brush to the lifeboats' landing zone. The crew on the lifeboats had been spread over a three-kilometer distance, and Chief was determined to not let a single one of them fall to these monsters.
Ozpin's Office, Beacon Academy, Vale
August 31, 2552, 0312 Hours/ 0942 local time (UEG Standard Calendar)
Professor Ozpin, headmaster of Beacon Academy, sipped his mug of hot cocoa, sitting at his desk and looking over the map on the left of his screen. A red triangle sat over the peninsula northwest of Vale, pointing west. The closest area of the triangle was a little over a hundred kilometers from Vale, with a few settlements within the region but none that were major towns or along trade routes.
"This is the projected impact region?" Ozpin asked, glancing over to the right-hand side of his screen. James Ironwood looked back at him with tired eyes, nodding in reply.
"Yes, as far as we could calculate, the vessel has by now entered the atmosphere and touched down. Given its projected size and speed, there was little room for maneuvering at the point we lost contact with it." Ironwood explained. He glanced off screen, nodding to someone on his end before looking back at Ozpin.
"Vessel? You sound sure it's a ship of some kind. How do you know it wasn't a small asteroid or comet?" Ozpin asked, raising an eyebrow. He pushed his glasses up, reaching out and switching the map to a view of the other information that Ironwood has sent so far.
"It appeared out of nowhere, Ozpin. Asteroids don't just come out of nothing, they don't emit radio signals with noticeable patterns, and they certainly don't start slowing down and turning when they get close to the planet." Ironwood narrowed his eyes in irritation, though he could understand why Ozpin was hesitant to believe him. He didn't want to believe it himself, at first.
"And these signals you mentioned, you're certain they originated from the object?" Ozpin's tone had grown more serious, reading the radar reports that verified Ironwood's claims. It was undeniable; something had entered Remnant's atmosphere under its own power, and had by now made landfall. If the reports were to be believed, it may have also deployed smaller objects that now orbited the planet, transmitting indecipherable messages to each other.
"Without a doubt. Ozpin, this is something none of us ever planned for. Not even Her. If whatever it is was coming with peaceful intentions, why hasn't it attempted to contact any of us?" Ironwood was on edge, Ozpin could see that much.
The man was the head of the largest military in Remnant's history. If this was an invasion of some kind, it'd be his men and women that would be forced to take the brunt of the fighting, and by extension the brunt of the casualties.
"Who's to say that they haven't? According to these reports, the signals are unreadable. Perhaps they are trying to speak to us, but a fundamental difference in our technologies is causing a hang-up." Ozpin pointed out, standing from his desk and walking to a window a few paces away. He rested his free hand on his cane as he looked out over Beacon Academy, closing his eyes to think for a moment.
"Until we figure out why they are here, we need to take every precaution possible. I'm increasing the security detail for the Vytal festival. If the people don't feel safe, they'll panic and just draw in more Grimm." Ironwood stated, already pulling up rosters of which Atlesian units he intended to send to Vale for the festival.
"That won't help matters, Ironwood. The forces you have sent thus far already have the people on edge. If you send even more soldiers, everyone would want to know why. You and I both know we can't just tell them that aliens exist and are already on Remnant. It'd be chaos." Ozpin sighed, turning his gaze to the ten Atlesian airships hanging over Vale and around Vytal Arena, a massive floating coliseum built atop an enormous chunk of gravity Dust.
"We can't wait and do nothing, Ozpin. Sooner or later She'll find a way to use this to her advantage. Perhaps she already is." Ironwood protested, glaring at the silver-haired Headmaster.
"James, if we let fear control us, She's already won. I'll dispatch an agent, someone we can trust. He'll verify whether or not this is a threat to Remnant." Ozpin said, closing his eyes and taking another swig from his mug. James's eye twitched for a moment in irritation, but he sighed and shook his head.
"Fine, but I'm sending my own team as well. If you're sending who I think you are, he'll need backup." Ironwood replied. "If anything comes up, let me know as soon as possible. I will be keeping the reinforcements on standby in case this goes belly up."
"Very well, James. If there is nothing else, I have work to attend to." Ozpin said, turning back to his longtime friend's image.
"As do I." Ironwood sighed, hanging up on his end.
Ozpin closed his eyes again and took a few breaths, steadying himself. Ironwood was right to be cautious, of course. But they couldn't afford to rush to conclusions at a time like this. One mistake could doom humanity, either to the Grimm or to these newcomers.
Ozpin pulled out his scroll, a personal communication device, and opened it. He scrolled through a list of contacts and selected one, holding his scroll up at face level as the call was answered.
"Qrow, I have a job for you."
Unknown Planet (Revised designation: 4546B- Standard UNSC Survey Guidelines Designation.) Point Alpha
August 31, 2552, 0350 hours/ 1020 local
One hour after final landfall
Jacob Keyes strode through the camp, having personally overseen the rally and recovery of the lifeboat occupants. Once they'd been picked up by four of the Pelicans, he'd been personally escorted to the camp by the Master Chief to ensure his safety.
The aforementioned Spartan walked beside him, Assault Rifle in hand as they approached the command tent. The flap opened, Lieutenant McKay stepping out to greet him with a salute.
"Captain Keyes, sir. Welcome to Point Alpha." She said rigidly, relaxing her posture when he saluted back.
"At ease, Trooper. Give me your report inside." Keyes nodded, stepping into the tent. McKay stared at the Master Chief warily, having been told by Silva that the Spartans were wildcards, that she should never turn her back on one if she could help it. She couldn't gauge his body language at all, which made the silent giant of a man even more unnerving. She went inside the tent regardless, with the Master Chief following behind her without a word.
"Chief, plug me into the terminal so I can assist the Captain." Cortana spoke to the Spartan through his helmet. He nodded in response, reaching to the back of his head and removing her data chip from his helmet.
Keyes nodded in thanks as the Master Chief plugged the chip into the terminal. Images from the satellite network were being downloaded and sorted into a proper map at a lightning pace, Cortana's enormous processing power making it a trivial matter. As the map formed, Keyes would note that large sections were still missing. He understood why, as the satellites wouldn't have a full spread of orbits for at least another twenty hours.
"McKay, your report?" Keyes asked as he looked back to the Lieutenant. She nodded, moving to the terminal beside him and pulling up the files Wellsley and Haverson had compiled about the creatures. Keyes visibly winced in revulsion as he skimmed the images. Chief stood stock still, though his grip on his weapon tightened noticeably at the sight.
"Sir, at approximately 0015 hours, Major Silva and half of our ODSTs made landfall at Point Bravo. Within the next ten minutes they had secured Alpha and had begun digging in and sending out patrols." McKay explained, bringing up a tactical map of the area.
"Sixth Squad was ambushed by these creatures, leaving only three wounded survivors. Major Silva led First Squad to cover their retreat. He was successful, but upon trying to retreat a larger one of these creatures attacked them. Two members of First Squad returned to the defensive line with Sixth Squad, while only two others survived. After a grenade was detonated, killing the larger beast, Major Silva was injured and dragged back to the line. Afterwards, the attack broke and the remaining beasts retreated at 0040 hours.
"Small arms fire required mass volleys to wound and incapacitate the beasts, with heavier weaponry proving effective. With air cover and more firepower, we've been able to hold the camp without further casualties."
"The final count of casualties is twenty one dead, six from the drop and fifteen due to the beasts. We have a total of eight injured, including Major Silva." McKay finished, having highlighted the relevant areas of the tactical map during her report.
Keyes swore under his breath, closing his eyes. Nearly thirty of his ODSTs were dead or out of action after a single engagement. They had no means of reinforcement, so their manpower situation could only dwindle as time went on.
"And the Autumn?" He asked, glancing over at the Lieutenant. He could express sympathy for her loss later. Right now he had to be the leader they could all look up to.
"She came to a stop thirty five clicks north of here. Chief Engineer Purdy, her team, and three squads of Marines are securing the ship now. Once she gives the all clear, we can begin moving everyone back onto the Autumn."
"Good. Is there anything else?" Keyes asked as he stood up straight, pulling out his pipe and lighting it as McKay nodded in response.
"We've been having some trouble with medium and long range transmissions over the ground. Pelicans have been losing radio contact at certain points during their patrol patterns, then regaining it. We're still working out exactly what's the issue, but our techs think it's the lower power of our portable radios being interfered with by something on the planet."
"Captain, I think the Lieutenant is on to something." Cortana spoke from the terminal, her face popping up in a window in the top right of the screen. A new layer was added to the local map, with several splotches of red appearing on the surface.
"The radio interference areas correspond to the anomalous readings we'd picked up on orbit. Our satellites have already detected deposits of unknown minerals in these same areas. It is likely that these minerals are giving off some sort of electromagnetic interference. However, I would suggest further study. When we have the time, of course." The AI explained, causing Keyes to take a long drag of his pipe.
"Sir... It seems Pelican V-933 has diverted from its flight course within one of the interference zones to the southeast. B-022 and K-056 have radar confirmation of it." Cortana added.
"Chief, I want you on a Pelican and going after them. If they are under attack or in distress, they are going to need help." Keyes said, turning to the Spartan. "Cortana, go with him. We've got things handled here."
"Sir, yes sir." Master Chief nodded, grabbing Cortana's data chip and slotting it into his helmet. He left without another word, brushing past McKay as he headed to the landing zone.
"McKay, I want you to start prepping everyone to move out. I don't want my men out in the open longer than we have to be." Keyes ordered. McKay saluted and stepped out as well.
Keyes turned back to the terminal, cycling through the imagery of the creatures and the strangely Earth-like terrain of the planet.
"Just where the hell did we land?" He muttered to himself as he brought his pipe back to his lips.
Planet 4546B, fifty clicks southeast of Point Alpha
August 31, 2552, 0400 hours/ 1030 local
"Staff Sergeant? I'm seeing smoke on our one o'clock." The pilot of V-933 called out to the passenger bay. Warrant Officer Jake Carver was a relatively new addition to the Autumn's crew, but a skilled pilot nonetheless. He'd not have been selected for Operation: Red Flag if he wasn't.
The leader of his Pelican's cargo of Marines stepped into the cockpit, peering over Carver's shoulder. The dark skinned man wore a standard Marine BDU with the sleeves rolled up to his pauldrons. A boonie cap sat atop his head and dark combat sunglasses obscured his eyes. As he looked over at the smoke Carver had pointed out, he rubbed his stubbled chin.
"Could it be one of ours?" Staff Sergeant Marvin Mobuto asked, looking at Carver. The
"I don't think so. We're the only ones in this sector, and at last call all dropships were accounted for." The pilot replied, staying on his patrol course as they spoke. "We're out of contact for now, but I'll keep trying to raise Point Alpha as we go."
"Let's move closer, take a look. I'd rather be sure it's not one of our guys than leave them out there with those things around." Mobuto said, patting Carver's shoulder.
"On it. I'll make the call to Alpha as soon as I can." The Pelican banked right, pointing its nose towards the smoke. As they grew closer, Mobuto and Carver could make out rooftops, some of which were currently burning. At a click out, Carver turned the Pelican onto a wide, orbiting right turn at five hundred meters of altitude. Morbuto's first impression of the settlement was that it seemed remarkably human in design, nothing like what the Covenant built. The village itself sat on the edge of a forested area, with a large, wide open prairie south of it sporting multiple fields for growing food.
Even from this distance, they could see the chaos. Figures fled from large, black beasts. Morbuto felt a pit in his stomach, watching as someone was cornered beside a building. They lost sight of the figure as the beasts lunged, but Morbuto knew what those things were capable of.
Suddenly, he was back on Meridian, his home world. The Covenant were retreating from the planet's surface, sending up a cheer amongst his squad and the others around him. Then the UNSC ordered a full, immediate withdrawal.
Morbuto watched as Covenant cruisers moved into position over the city where his family lived. He watched as superheated plasma beams rained down, turning what was once a beautiful world into nothing but ash and glass. He watched as everything he cared about burned, his squad dragging him into the last Pelican.
"-aff Sergeant?" Carver asked again, looking over his shoulder at Morbuto. The man swallowed, blinking away welling tears behind his sunglasses.
"I'm not leaving anyone to die to those things, UNSC or otherwise. We're going in." The Staff Sergeant growled. Carver couldn't help but grin, looking forward to some payback. He'd lost a few new friends to these beasts already.
"Yes sir! I'll find a place to land!" He called out as Morbuto moved into the passenger bay of the dropship. He picked up his weapon, looking out at the other nine members of his team. Eight carried MA5B Assault Rifles, with one also carrying a SPNKr Rocket Launcher and another with a M6 Spartan Laser. The ninth carried a sniper rifle with plenty of extra squared away in his vest.
"Get tactical, Marines!" Morbuto called out, racking his M90 shotgun as the Pelican descended rapidly.
Hakota Village, Kingdom of Vale
August 31, 2552, 1040 hours local time
Huntsman Ceruleas had been fighting for over an hour now without a break. His clawed gauntlets sliced through a beowulf's throat, the monster falling as the man kept on the move. All around him, Hakota village burned. He could hear the screams of those being chased or savaged by the monsters, and all he could do was keep fighting.
The man wore a wolf pelt cloak over dark blue body armor style like old, light scale armor. His hood was made of the pelt's head, his tanned face obscured by his black, unkempt beard. The older Huntsman was a bit of a wild man, preferring the frontier to the cities, but his combat style was as refined as any modern warrior's. He used a pair of armored gauntlets with razor-sharp claws to cut his way through the Grimm attacking the village.
A little over an hour ago, the village had been rocked by an earthquake. The people had become uneasy despite the guards' best efforts to calm their fears. That uneasy had attracted a few Grimm, and a farmer had been caught off guard by an ursa. The man's screams of pain had turned unrest into panic, only drawing more of the beasts into the village.
Now a majority of the survivors were holed up in the town hall, while Ceruleas had been working to coral the stragglers there. The guards' numbers had been cut in half by the assault, and ammo was already dwindling. Soon it'd be down to a melee battle, and Ceruleas was certain that such an event would leave no survivors among the villagers. Hakota village would turn into just another settlement wiped off the map by the Grimm.
Ceruleas swore under his breath as he heard shouting from the town hall and the roars of enraged Grimm. He changed course, sprinting back to the refuge. His heart pounded and he could tell his Aura was near its breaking point. He'd sent out a distress call to the City of Vale, but at this rate they'd be overwhelmed long before help could arrive.
He reached the town hall just as a new wave of Grimm attacked, Dust-enhanced bullets tearing through the beasts. Less of the guards were shooting now, some completely out of ammo. The old Huntsman gritted his teeth, cutting through a pack of beowulfs like butter.
But there were so many, more than he'd ever seen in one place. It was a miracle the village wasn't overrun already. This was it, he knew it deep down. This was his last stand, his last fight. He'd lived longer than many Huntsmen and Huntresses did, but now he'd met his match.
A sideswipe from an ursa caught him off guard, throwing him against the doors of the town hall. Ceruleas's aura broke in a pale blue shimmer, and all the fatigue of the fight caught up with him. He could hear the panicked cries of the women, children, and the elderly inside. The last half dozen guards closed around the door, firing the last of their shots into the growing horde.
The weary old Huntsman forced himself to his feet for one last fight, embracing his end with grim determination.
His end, however, would never come.
70mm depleted uranium slugs ripped into the Grimm's ranks from above, shredding those closest to the town hall. The older, smarter Grimm backed away to seek cover, while the younger ones fled piecemeal.
An airship unlike any Ceruleas had ever seen swooped down, turning its rear hatch towards the town hall and hovering a few meters off the ground. From the hatch leapt ten heavily armed and armored men and women, carrying blocky rifles and heavy weapons. A small mountain of a man with dark skin and shades shouted orders in some kind of foreign language, the others around him quickly setting up alongside the guards.
Ceruleas and the guards eyed the strangers with a mix of confusion and awe as the airship ascended. The Grimm had regrouped and now poured towards the humans en masse even as the airship's chaingun chugged out death at them. The soldiers, as there was no doubt they were anything but, stood firm and opened fire.
Rifles churned out bullets at a lightning pace, while one fired a precision rifle with deadly accuracy. For a few moments they were turning the tide of the battle, Grimm falling to the slaughter in droves. The Grimm wavered, the alphas weighing the options of retreating or continuing to attack.
Ceruleas's heart skipped a beat, his ears twitching at a deafening screech. He looked up, as did many of the soldiers and guards, as the airship was speared through one of its rear nacelles by a massive black feather.
A trio of large nevermores, bird-like Grimm, dived towards the airship, ready to destroy the nuisance. The man with the sunglasses shouted into an ear piece, and the airship lurched forward with the flying Grimm in pursuit. The airship was still flying, but even Ceruleas could see it was badly damaged. Smoke poured from its left rear nacelle, the thrusters on the remaining three sputtering to compensate as it fled.
With renewed vigor, the land-based Grimm resumed their assault, closing in without the airship's heavy cannon mowing them down. Over the next several minutes, the soldiers whittled down the beasts as the horde inched closer. Alpha Grimm used the younger ones as cannon fodder, and by now two of the soldiers had switched to bulky, and surprisingly effective, handguns. The leader of the soldiers shouted something that sounded like a mix of a taunt and a curse, firing his shotgun indiscriminately.
Two of the men hefted shoulder mounted weapons. One, a twin barreled launcher, fired two consecutive shots into the crowd to thin the numbers. Unfortunately, the holes blown in the enemy's forces were filled as quickly as they were opened, and the man dropped the empty weapon in favor of his sidearm.
The other weapon made a much more spectacular show. It hummed quietly for a few seconds before erupting in a beam of scarlet light, cutting a swathe through the Grimm as well as several buildings. Even this only bought them so much time, however. The horde was beginning to thin, but their ammo was running out faster than the beasts were dying.
The fighting grew closer, beowulfs now lunging at the fighters. A guard was snatched, a soldier had his arm bit clean through. Another, the one with the laser, took a slash across the gut before he could let loose another shot.
They had fought bravely, but it was only delaying the inevitable. The Grimm would slaughter them all, though Ceruleas took comfort in the fact that scores of the beasts had been laid low.
Another of the soldiers was knocked back, thrown into Ceruleas. Without his aura to take the blow, he tasted blood as he landed on the ground under the man. He could faintly hear fighting and yelling as his vision dimmed, seeing the airship streak overhead with the three nevermores still in pursuit.
But as he watched, gunfire from behind struck one of the winged terrors, tearing it from the sky. A second, identical airship chased the remaining two as a single shape dropped out the back.
Ceruleas was jolted by a solid impact, his eyes turning back to the ground fight. Only four of the soldiers still stood, but past them a figure stood from a small impact crater.
Emerald green armor shone with a golden glow, making humans and Grimm alike freeze. A blocky rifle like what the soldiers carried was slung on his back, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
"Staff Sergeant, regroup your squad and secure the entrance." The figure spoke in a deep, gravelly voice. Ceruleas couldn't understand him, of course, but that hardly mattered.
The Grimm stood stock still, gazing at this newcomer. They sensed no fear, yet it was obviously human. The few Alphas within the pack snarled, backing away as they realized there was something off about this man.
The first Grimm to act was an ursa minor, roaring and lunging at the man, intending to crush him with its massive paw. What little awareness it had was filled with confusion when its strike stopped dead, the human having caught it with his hands.
"Awww, I think it likes you." Cortana chuckled in the Master Chief's ear, using the MJOLNIR armor's advanced sensor suite to catalog every moment of this.
The other Grimm backed away as the ursa's paw was twisted suddenly, throwing the beast off balance. As it stumbled, a green blur delivered a skull-shattering uppercut, dropping the ursa dead.
"The feeling is not mutual." Chief grumbled, looking towards the rest of the creatures as the ursa dissolved. His hud highlighted at least a dozen left, at least half of them being the bear-type ones. Two larger ones hung at the back of the group, seemingly ready to bolt. The rest snarled and charged at the death of the ursa, bearing down on the Spartan.
"Primary weapon, below optimal." Chief muttered, remembering the files and McKay's report. He drew his M6D Magnum sidearm, and began to fire. Each pull of the trigger sent a 12.7x40mm high explosive round into the skull of a Grimm, often leaving their skulls a few pounds lighter.
A beowulf got close, lunging at him. Time slowed to the Spartan, the beowulf moving as if it were swimming through molasses. He sidestepped the strike, backhanding the creature into the ground as he fired the last round of his magazine into the side of its head. He turned towards the remainder as he reloaded, walking towards them in an eerily calm manner.
The Alphas and few remaining Grimm, in a rare moment of self preservation, realized that they were outmatched by this human. They howled and retreated, turning tail as the Master Chief stopped and watched.
"Foehammer, we're going to need a medivac." Chief called out.
"Roger that, Chief. I'm almost done up here!" Carol "Foehammer" Rawley called back. Chief looked up, watching her blast the last of the flying monsters from the sky, clearing the way for the sticken V-933.
The Master Chief turned and walked back to the town hall, placing his Magnum on his hip. The Staff Sergeant in charge stood to greet him, two Marines being tended to by three of their comrades. Another four lay dead on the ground, nearly lost in the dozens of civilian bodies.
His eyes flickered over to the locals, narrowing as he took in the fact that they were humans.
"Well, this just got interesting." Cortana mused, her restless mind hard at work.
Planet 4546B, suborbital trajectory
12.25.43, 9th Age of Reclamation
"Fleetmaster! Fleetmaster!" A gruff voice called out.
Thel 'Vadamee blinked away the pain in his head, seeing only darkness at first. He became aware he was floating, and looked around. A fellow Sangheili, clad in pristine white armor, reached out a four fingered hand to him.
Thel grabbed his hand, and felt himself being tugged down. As his hoofed feet made contact with the floor, the maglocks in his golden armor activated. He looked around at his darkened command center, bathed in the dim glow of emergency lights. His cape flowed behind him weightlessly as he realized the gravity generators were offline.
"R'tas, what happened?" Thel asked, grunting as he felt an ache throughout his body. They'd been pursuing the last human ship to flee the planet, firing on it with everything they had. But it had proved far more cunning and durable than anything he'd faced before, downing several of his own ships in its flight.
His own flagship, the Ascendant Justice, had been closing in. He remembered the weak projectile weapons slamming harmlessly into the shields of his ship while the flagship's plasma lines recharged. He'd just given the order to fire when the portal had opened, swallowing the human ship and dragging the Ascendant Justice inwards with a bright-
Then he woke up here, in a dead ship.
"When the human ship jumped, we were close enough to follow it. But as we attempted to track their destination... It is unclear what happened, but our vessel has been torn in half. We have no engines, barely enough power for life support, and we lost the hangars. It took us over an hour just to get the doors working again." R'tas explained, looking around. Thel followed his gaze, seeing many of his command crew in a similar state as he had been.
"And the rest of the fleet?" Thel asked, R'tas shaking his head in response.
"We've had no visual contact from any of the viewports, and our long range communication is dead. The only thing we've spotted is a terrestrial planet, and we are likely being pulled into it." R'tas huffed as he and Thel began to check on the others. Some were waking up or still unconscious, but a large number of the Sangheili crew had been killed when they were dashed against the walls. Only six of his officers survived alongside R'tas.
"What of our forces onboard?" Thel asked, already knowing the answer would displease him.
"By best estimate, there are only two dozen Sangheili left alive at most, and three lances of Unggoy. Our Huragok were almost all in the hangar, and were lost. We now only have three." R'tas said, shaking his head. The Ascendant Justice had been a light carrier, most of the Sangheili compliment having been pilots. If R'tas's report was correct, they'd lost the rear half of their ship, including the main hangar bays
"And your Special Operations Lance?" Thel paused, knowing R'tas and his Ultras were some of the fiercest warriors in the Covenant.
"All five of us are alive and well, Fleetmaster." R'tas nodded in response. It'd take more than a ship being torn asunder to break his warriors, after all.
Thel growled lowly as he found yet another of his battle-brothers dead. He hated to acknowledge it, but staying aboard this ship now was a death wish. Even without worry of impacting the planet, they'd run out of air and food soon enough.
Another thought crossed his mind. They may not have yet failed in their hunt. They'd managed to follow the humans to this place, and perhaps the Fleetmaster could atone for the loss of his ship by cutting every last one of them down.
"Have the survivors collect what armaments they can, and proceed to the escape craft. If we ended up here, the humans likely did as well. We will hunt them to our dying breath!" Thel ordered R'tas and his surviving command crew.
The seven Sangheili before him each clasped a fist to their chests, bowing their heads.
"By your word, Fleetmaster." They chorused.
