Historian's Note

This story takes place in December of 2559 following the fall of the UNSC Infinity and scattering of UNSC forces across Zeta Halo. The Banished have occupied the ring in the wake of Cortana's death and have engaged in campaigns of terror against the beleaguered forces of humanity. Spartan John-117 is MIA.

CHAPTER 1

O come, O come, Emmanuel

And ransom captive Israel

That mourns in lonely exile here

Until the Son of God appear

2030 HOURS, DECEMBER 24th, 2559 [MILITARY CALENDAR]

ZETA HALO

ODST Lieutenant Chaplain Abe Rukundo approached the group of six UNSC personnel huddled closely behind a small portable heater and draped blankets over their shivering frames. Each soldier thanked him, or if unable to say anything simply nodded or gave him a look conveying the gratitude. He would return a smile and continue on throughout the rest of the cave complex his band of survivors called "HQ."

Rukundo was grateful that, for whatever reason, the Banished had been unusually quiet during the last two days. The previous ten had been terrifying tests of survival as the UNSC, lost without a proper chain of command and hopelessly scattered across Zeta Halo, faced a well-entrenched and ruthless Banished occupation force.

The ODST battalion aboard the UNSC Infinity—300 soldiers strong—had been hastily divided into seven platoons of 40 as the ship was boarded. On landfall, casualties mounted quickly, particularly among troopers venturing into the dense evergreen forests to locate fellow survivors. Radio channels were monitored around the clock for mayday signals or, better yet, signs of the chain of command was re-established. The safer course would have been to stay hidden, but neither Rukundo nor his comrades could forgive themselves for doing nothing. Time and again, they braved the dangers outside their cave, rescuing whomever they could.

The cost for these acts had been high. Of the two platoons that landed with Rukundo in the region, only two squads remained: his and one led by Corporal Grace Osca. Their combined forces now totaled just seven ODSTs. Despite their diminished strength, they had rescued 63 personnel, including Navy, Army, Marines, and even three civilian contractors—a medical technician, an IT specialist, and an electrician.

With Banished activity in their region diminished there was finally a moment to take stock. In truth, it was a miracle of God as far as Abe was concerned that they had made it as far as they had. At last head count, there were a staggering 63 personnel including the seven ODSTs making up the two squads that called the cave home. Navy personnel made up the bulk of the rescued, but Army and Marines were present among them. There were even three civilian contractors, a medical technician, IT specialist, and electrician.

As the highest ranking soldier among them all, their safety and well-being fell on Rukundo. This did not burden him much. In civilian life he had been a Catholic priest to a moderately sized congregation on the world of Verdant Hills. When the Covenant attacked his world he had managed to safely evacuate his parochial school and its 200 staff and students off-world. God's providence, his foresight to purchase a surplus M6 sidearm, and fleet of church buses saw them through those two days of chaos.

As he thumbed the small rosary he kept tied to his wrist he reaffirmed his vow that he would do everything he could to protect this flock just as he had his old one.

Passing by another small group huddled by heater, Rukundo began giving the five seated there bottles of water and MREs. One of them, an Army grunt with a worn ID tag stenciled "Khorn", shot a glance at the rosary dangling from Rukundo's wrist.

"You think God's on this ring, lieutenant?"

The question didn't seem to be one born of anger, Rukundo could see in the man's eyes that question was genuine.

"I do, private," the ODST answered. "I will not lie to you and say I haven't asked that question myself. There has been much hardship, but times like this I reflect on a passage from Joshua: Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go."

Pvt. Khorn nodded, but seemed unconvinced. Reaching into the bag bulging with recovered MREs, Abe decided to go a different route.

"Of course, in times like this I think what one of God's angels told Elijah as he fled from his impending execution works better, "Get up and eat."

This time, Khorn smiled at the chaplain's words and accepted the pouch of MRE mac'n'cheese Abe held in his hand.

"Thanks, sir," Khone said. "I hope I didn't offend."

"No offense taken. I can't promise Navy mac'n'cheese is as nourishing as the Word, but it'll do for now."

Rukundo distributed other packages to the rest of the group and began making his way to the alcove that served as "command". Corporal Osca, leaning against the entrance, pointed her head at Private Korne and said, "You handled that one well, Padre. Want me to have a word with him later?"

Shaking his head, Rukundo responded back, "It was a fair question. They've all seen so much in the last two weeks that would push anyone to the breaking point. The least I could do was give the man an honest answer."

"Well, I think you need to take your own advice and rest up. Hound should be back soon with his report and if our plan is still to strike tonight we all need to be on our A-game."

SPC. Roger "Hound" McCaskill was the designated sniper and scout in Osca' squad. A previous recon mission brought the presence of a Banished outpost 30 km from their location to their attention. It was a considerable distance away, but seemed to serve as a hub for Banished activity in their region. More importantly, it was a place likely holding UNSC prisoners and salvage.

"I'll be ready," Abe assured the corporal. "I just want to make sure the people here are taken care of."

"With all due respect, sir," Osca countered, "Going about acting like Santa Claus passing out presents on Christmas has kept you on your feet for the last few hours. Please go take a power nap or something, the rest of us can hold down the fort."

Abe eventually relented and found a semi-comfortable rock wall to lay against. He had managed to get an hour of rest when he was roused by one of his squad, PFC. "Rig" Chakrii.

"Sorry to wake 'ya, Padre," the imposingly tall private said, smiling sheepishly. "Hound came back with news and Osca said you and the other officers are meeting now."

The lieutenant rubbed his eyes and said, "Thank you, private. Gather the squad and make preparations to move out. Once we get a solid plan we are on the bounce. Understood?"

Rig saluted with an enthusiastic, "Yes sir, been waiting to smash some Banished skulls again."

Rukundo slapped the ODST on his back and simply said, "Consider it an early present from me to you, Rig. Dismissed."

Hound McCaskill gladly accepted the cup of quick-brew coffee handed to him and savored every sip. The man had spent the better part of two days observing the goings-on at the Banished outpost without much in the way of sleep. Hovering over a jerry-rigged holotable powered by a salvaged Mongoose fuel cell, Hound drew up an outline of the outpost. The base was shaped like a four-pointed star surrounded by 12 foot metal walls and two main gates on its eastern and western sides.

"I only observed them for two days, but I don't see these Banished forces deviating from their routine," Hound stated.

"Why is that?" asked Osca.

"Well ma'am if my conclusions are right then it seems like they don't have anyone cracking the whip, so to speak."

McCaskil hefted his S7 sniper rifle onto the table and attached a wire to the TACCAM that served as both his scope and recording device. Holographic projections emanated from the projector showing the myriad of snapshots taken by the sniper over the two days. As Hound cycled through he stopped on one picture bearing the image of a particularly nasty looking Brute.

The alien was lightly armored with only a small breastplate, shoulder pauldrons, and headdress. What stood out the most were the lines of bright red tattoos tracing all across their body. Rukundo could only guess they served some ceremonial purpose, but to what end he could not say.

"This Brute seems to be the Chieftain in charge of the outpost based on their ornamental headdress, but all the Brutes there dress similarly. Little armor, strange tattoos, not much else really. In the spirit of the season I informally called him "Krampus" but I'm not married to that designation."

"Noted," mused Rukundo. "I remember seeing Kongs like this at Reach. Covenant sent them as shock troops against civilian populations. Bore similar markings on their body too, but I doubt they carry the same meaning for the Banished as they did to the Covenant."

"Always nice to see other veterans from Reach," Osca quipped drly.

The gathered ODSTS chuckled before moving forward. Hound highlighted five areas of interest at the outpost and tagged them as STORAGE DEPOT, MOTOR POOL, PRISON, COOKING PYRES, and FERMENTATION VATS.

"The storage depot is pretty self-explanatory," Hound said. "Sometimes their hunting parties came back with shit they found out in the wilderness, often UNSC gear. That went in the northernmost building. While observing I never saw them bring in new prisoners, but saw them bring out people from the westernmost building. They did not treat them gently, I think your imaginations can fill in the rest."

He loaded another set of pictures and showed several pictures of Brutes coming and going from the southernmost structure in an array of alien and human vehicles. The team saw the usual Ghost hovercrafts, but it was somewhat strange to also see at least one Warthog and Razorback coming and going. They were clearly modified to account for the sheer size of the Brutes, but three to four of the giant aliens seemed capable of making use of them.

"Motor pool is pretty big, so they may have more vehicles stashed in there that we may have to exploit depending on how many prisoners we can liberate."

Osca motioned to the cooking pyres and fermentation vats, "And these?"

"Those," he said, "I think give us a hint at just what this band of Brutes is doing out here. Truthfully, these Banished don't seem to share the military mindset of the rest of the organization. The only consistent activity I saw from them was departing in the morning and returning at dusk with hunted game. They'll make big bonfires, cook their kills, and drink themselves stupid."

"Any idea why they have prisoners then?" Rukundo asked. I've heard reports from the Covenant War of people who fell prisoner to the Brutes. It never ended well."

Hound shrugged. "I wish I had a theory, lieutenant. Sadly, I don't. Outside of bringing some to rough up, I never even so much as saw them bring in rations to the prison. Seems like they have prisoners just to have them."

Now the only question was just what were they up against in terms of enemy presence.

"What's your estimation on Banished strength?" Abe asked.

The sniper rubbed his chin and sighed. "I counted 21 Brutes. Toss in a handful of Jackals and Grunts and I estimate their numbers to be closer to 40."

Rukundo leaned over the holotable, mentally reviewing the situation. While 40 enemies might not seem overwhelming, a force composed mostly of towering, half-ton Brutes was a formidable challenge. Combined with limited ammo, a grueling march through hostile terrain, and a lack of combat-ready personnel, the odds felt grim.

All he could do was pray that a solution would be provided even as he crunched the numbers for the second, third, and fourth time. Just as he was on the verge of reluctantly calling off the raid, a spark of hope entered the command room in an unexpected form.

"Lieutenant Rukundo?"

Standing in the hallway was a man with a bandage affixed to left eye and a sling cradling his right arm. While stained with mud and debris, their jet-black uniform made it clear that the speaker belonged to the Office of Naval Intelligence.

"I'm Warrant Officer Waylon Dill, Section I, ONI. I might have something that can help."