Dust and Echoes

by trestwho

After a successful mission, a UNSC fleet makes a random slipspace jump only to come across an uncharted system containing a sliver of humanity, one with seemingly no connection to Earth and whose natural abilities defy reason. In a galaxy full of terrifying dangers, the UNSC and Remnant must work together to defend all they know from annihilation.

29. A Point Where It Breaks

Dust and Echoes (RWBY/Halo)

Chapter 28: A Point Where It Breaks

[~][~]

Standing in front of the medical bay's window, Jacob Keyes stood ramrod straight with his arms folded behind his back as he watched the Midsummer Night's medical staff work on Harriet Bree. Their voices were muffled through the glass to the point of being incomprehensible, but he didn't need to hear them to understand what they were saying. Bree's injuries were extensive, which was only to be expected after nearly getting hit by a direct plasma mortar. Nearly three-fourths of her entire body was covered in burns, and one of her arms was completely gone below the elbow, with the remains of Fast Knuckles melted into her flesh above the stump. Her hair and scalp underneath had irregular streaks of burn tissue running through it, left between the fingers of her hand's blast shadow from how it shielded her face, which the doctors said was the only reason she still had her eyes, nose, and lips. Her legs had also suffered significant damage, but luckily they were angled away from the initial blast so the doctors had hope they could be saved. She had even suffered internal injuries, particularly to her throat and lungs after breathing in superheated gas.

Keyes always strived to make sure that his vessels had medical supplies fully stocked, and medical technology had advanced significantly over the years. But the extent of her injuries, combined with the sheer number of wounded soldiers that the Midsummer Night also had to deal with following the Assault on the Cartographer, meant that all they could really do was stabilize Bree and make sure she wouldn't die. She was already in a medically-induced coma, and once the doctors were done she would be placed into cryo. Once they got to Reach, she would be transported to a military hospital, where she would receive the finest treatment the UNSC could provide.

Assuming she survived, and Keyes had every confidence that she would, he imagined that many of her physical injuries could easily be repaired. Flash cloned skin and organs to replace those burned beyond repair, along with prosthetics for any limbs lost. Of course, she could always opt for flash-cloned limbs as well, but those required a much longer recovery process, not only from growing them but also from the extensive physical therapy to regain their previous strength and dexterity. And from what he knew about Bree's personality, he doubted she'd want to sit still for that long. Most soldiers didn't.

Mentally, though, it was a different story. She had come centimeters from death, barely clinging to life even now. One does not walk away from that unscathed. He didn't know how Bree would respond once she physically recovered. Each person was different, and he didn't know her well enough to make anything close to an accurate assumption. But he did know this: Whoever Specialist Harriet Bree was before this mission, she would not be the same afterwards.

The same applied to Casper Marine, who hadn't said so much as a word ever since she was brought onboard the Midsummer Night. Keyes recognized the signs of PTSD as soon as he saw her, and immediately assigned one of the psychiatrists to look after her. Both to simply talk to her once she was ready, and also to make sure she wouldn't do anything rash.

Closing his eyes, Keyes released a heavy sigh then finally turned around and walked back to the bridge. Marines and Navy technicians saluted him as he passed, but he paid them no heed in favor of focusing on his own thoughts. This entire mission was one step away from becoming an absolute disaster on multiple fronts. Four of the Huntsmen under his watch were either KIA or wounded, with the rest still in active danger of joining them, and the location of Remnant itself could potentially be compromised. It was a complete mess.

The only upside was that ONI wasn't hounding him over this, unlike Khembalung. Even they recognized the severity of the situation and that they couldn't exclude the Huntsmen from protecting their homeworld. Of course, had the Cartographer not had the location of Remnant on it he imagined they'd be singing a different tune. To be honest, given all that had happened Keyes wished there was no Cartographer to justify his decisions. At least then it would just be his career on the line, not the lives of billions.

But the situation was what it was, and he had to deal with it. When he arrived on the bridge, he stood before the holotank as the rest of the bridge crew manned their stations. The entire Nyame system was being scanned for any sign of the Covenant stealth corvette. Every planet, every moon, every asteroid, nothing was being overlooked. Although he couldn't see them, Keyes knew that a flotilla of ONI prowlers were joining the search. Above everything else, that corvette could not be allowed to leave the system. They had to find and destroy it. If they didn't, Keyes could only imagine the devastation that would unfold.

Looking outside the window, Keyes watched the Peponi Defense Fleet organize themselves. Compared to the fleets protecting Reach and Earth, it was fairly small. It totaled roughly fifty ships comprised of cruisers, destroyers, and frigates of all shapes and sizes. The Marathon-class heavy cruiser Berlin served as the fleet's flagship, from which everything else was being coordinated. Normally Keyes would be fighting right alongside them, but right now he had superseding orders.

"Commander, slipspace ruptures detected!" one of the technicians announced, causing Keyes to grimace.

"They're here," Keyes said.

Off in the distance, just outside Peponi's moon, he watched as a series of blue dots emerged in the void of space. From them came roughly twenty Covenant vessels, centered around a CAS-class assault carrier which was undoubtedly the flagship. Alongside it were several CPV-class heavy destroyers and CAR-class frigates, all making a beeline towards the planet below. The UNSC fleet was already moving to engage, and he could see streams of ARCHER missiles firing from the ships towards the Covenant. Most harmlessly exploded under a barrage of Covenant point-defense lasers, with the rest impacting their shields which flickered brightly but otherwise did nothing, followed by massive plasma torpedoes that looked like tiny suns as they raced towards the defenders.

As the first human ships exploded, Keyes had to force himself not to intervene. Instead, he turned back to the holotable and ordered, "Keep searching for that corvette, and make sure that fleet doesn't see us."

"Understood, Commander," Shakespeare replied, and the entire bridge fell silent.

[~]

As soon as Robyn Hill stepped out of the Pelican, she was immediately struck by the sounds of chaos and panic. Hundreds of people were running as fast as they could, streaming out of homes and buildings as they tried to fit into waiting transports that were ferrying people to the spaceport. Children were crying, men and women were yelling at each other, all while policemen and Army troopers were doing their best to keep things orderly. Many were impatient, opting to simply run to the spaceport rather than wait for the bus.

"Everyone, stay calm!" a police captain spoke into a megaphone while standing on top of a raised platform alongside two other officers, each wielding M392 DMRs. "We are going to get everyone to safety, but we cannot do that if you do not conduct yourselves in a neat, organized fashion!"

The captain was almost immediately drowned out by angry shouts from the crowd. Their voices blurred together, making it impossible for Robyn to understand what any one person was saying. But she could tell that they didn't exactly like being told to remain calm when a Covenant fleet was literally barreling down on them. Overhead, another transport flew past the city skyline, its engines briefly drowning everything else out, but it passed within a moment and was, once again, replaced by shouts, sirens, and screams.

"Is it always like this?" Joanna asked while checking her crossbow staff, and Lieutenant Dare shook her head.

"No. Usually, we don't get advanced warning," Dare replied, refusing to elaborate any further, and Robyn's frown deepened.

She glanced at the rest of her teammates, all of whom sported sad yet familiar frowns. They had first-hand experience of one of those 'no advanced warning' evacuations on Vyraj, something that still haunted her with how useless she felt. The implication that Vyraj was the norm rather than the exception sent a chill down her spine, and motivated her all the more to make Peponi's evacuation succeed.

Clenching her fist, Robyn shifted her gaze skyward. Thanks to the heavy rain and cloud cover, she couldn't see what was happening in orbit. But she could imagine the UNSC defense fleet fighting the Covenant armada, exchanging volleys of missiles, MAC rounds, and plasma torpedoes as each side sought to destroy the other. In her mind's eye, she also saw wings of Longsword fighters squaring off against Covenant Seraphs, engaging in dogfights not unlike what occurred during the final years of the Great War. Granted, she knew that wasn't exactly the case. She honestly had no idea what the intricacies of space combat were actually like, but it helped to get a picture on things.

But that wasn't important. What was important was helping the UNSC evacuate as many people as possible. That meant crowd control, at least until the Covenant arrived and started shooting everybody.

"Let's get to work," Robyn ordered as she began to move.

"Just like the Dust mine strikes, right?" May asked, and Robyn smiled and gave her teammate a thumb's up.

"The very same," she confirmed, and May nodded before moving away.

"Dust mine strike?" Sienna asked in confusion while tilting her head.

"Oh, a couple years ago there was a big protest at a bunch of SDC Dust mines in Atlas after one of them collapsed and killed dozens of workers," Fiona answered. "We helped organize them, then kicked the SDC security's asses when they tried to break the strike."

"Yeah…that was a good time," Joanna reminisced with a fond smile on her face.

Sienna Khan looked at the Happy Huntresses for a moment, then smiled as well and replied, "Sounds like it. Wish I could've been there to help you girls out."

"Well, the next time the SDC gets a bunch of people hurt because of stupid greed and lax safety standards, I'll give you a call," Fiona earnestly agreed to which Sienna grinned before barking orders to the rest of the White Fang.

Robyn couldn't help but chuckle, and at the same time glanced towards Dare. Even if the ONI agent wasn't looking in their direction, she knew Dare was listening and would undoubtedly forward this conversation to her superiors. Part of her wondered how the UNSC's relationship would inevitably develop with the Schnee Dust Company. Thus far, their relationship with Atlas was stronger than the rest of Remnant due to shared cultural values, and given the SDC's size and importance they would have to work together in at least some capacity. But whether the UNSC would prove to be just another enabler of the SDC's worst impulses in the name of the war effort, or leverage their position to regulate them was up in the air. Only time would tell, but Robyn hoped that, by blatantly talking about these things in front of an ONI agent, she could somehow influence their thinking.

It may have been a long-shot, but she was used to those by now. As Robyn mused to herself, she glanced towards the White Fang who had split into pairs. Abby and Yuri were together, helping to organize a crowd of terrified civilians into a row of buses. Sienna was with Gron, and to Robyn's slight confusion Sienna seemed to be hovering awfully close to her fellow faunus. She did notice that the pair appeared to be tense for some reason, but she chalked it up to Gron's behavior finally getting on Sienna's nerves and left it at that.

Her thoughts were broken when she heard a faint cry coming from nearby. Turning towards it, she saw a young boy, no older than five, standing by himself and crying hysterically. In his hands was a small toy ODST, and none of the adults passing him by paid him any attention as they focused purely on themselves.

Robyn immediately made her way over and crouched to look the crying boy in the eyes. Giving him a soft smile, she said, "Hey there. What's wrong?"

The boy, continuing to cry, wailed, "I can't find my dad!"

"Sssh, sssh, it's okay," she attempted to soothe him while placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "My name's Robyn, what's yours?"

Realizing that someone was finally helping him, the boy's wails managed to reduce to a whimper as he answered, "Ja…Jawara."

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Jawara. Come on, let's go find your dad," Robyn told the young boy as she stood up and offered him her hand.

Jawara looked up at the Huntress, visibly nervous. But, after a moment, he tentatively reached out with his free hand to grab hers, and together they walked into the crowd in search of his family.

[~]

The mountain range was drowned in darkness, with only the occasional flash of light as a bolt of lightning shot across the sky. An intense downpour rained down from the heavens along with a fierce wind that almost felt as though it would blow Clover Ebi off the mountain itself. But he kept his feet firm as he slowly walked forward, pushing aside the thick jungle leaves and moving around the tall trees. Beside him were a dozen snipers, including Captain Price, Soap, and Ghost. All of them, including Clover himself, were carrying SRS99 sniper rifles, their fingers hovering near the triggers and ready to be raised at a moment's notice.

As they neared the edge of the forest, the Huntsman and soldiers carefully lowered themselves to the ground and crawled across the moss-covered rocks on their bellies. Putting themselves into a neat line, each of them pressed their weapons to their shoulders and aimed through their night-vision scopes to the other side of the valley. There, through the intense storm, they could see a mountain pass that, at one point, was used by miners to transport ore to various refineries scattered across the valley.

Now they were being used by a convoy of Covenant armored vehicles instead, their destination unknown.

"Targets spotted," Clover spoke into his radio, his voice calm and betraying none of the anger he felt as he scoured the convoy for the Brute Chieftain. When he couldn't find him, his frown deepened, but otherwise he kept his composure.

Clover, the rest of the Ace-Ops, Task Force 141 and the company of Army soldiers had been tracking the Brute convoy for at least half an hour. They had hoped they would've been able to catch them at their base, but they were already gone by the time the UNSC arrived. Instead of Brutes and Elites, all they found was an abandoned and destroyed Covenant mini-base, one that had a few booby traps left behind that claimed the lives of a handful of men. It was clear that the Brutes had left in a hurry, and had also pulled straight from the UNSC's handbook in denying the enemy any of their assets.

Lieutenant Dare might have gone into New Timbuktu with the Happy Huntresses and the White Fang, but Clover could guess that, had she joined them, her rage and irritation would've been palpable.

But even if ONI would've loved to acquire more Covenant technology, recovery was not their primary objective. At this point, all they cared about was preventing the Covenant from getting off Peponi with the Cartographer's data. If they somehow managed to kill all the Covenant and they had an opening, then by all means capturing the Covenant data drive would be a neat bonus. But otherwise they were to simply destroy it the first chance they got.

Luckily, even though the UNSC fleet was now engaging the Covenant reinforcements, they still technically had air and orbital superiority. That meant they were able to leverage every single satellite orbiting Peponi, allowing them to locate the convoy. After that it was simply a matter of mapping out their most likely routes and prepping an ambush. After witnessing first hand just how powerful the Covenant was, it was a refreshing change of pace to be on the other side of one while the enemy ran scared for once.

Part of Clover hoped that they would be lucky enough to see the hard drive through their rifles. Then they could use the anti-material guns for what they were originally designed for and simply take it out from afar. There wouldn't be any need to actually fight the Covenant after that. But the rest of him knew it wouldn't be that easy, so instead it fell to him and the rest of the sniper team to measure the strength of the enemy force and ascertain which vehicle the data drive would be held in.

"I'm counting forty to fifty Brutes mounted on Choppers and Prowlers, with a handful of Elites on Ghosts. Most likely stragglers from the Cartographer," Ghost reported, his calm voice cutting through the airwaves. "Hard to say exactly how many there are through this storm, though."

"They've got limited air support, too," Soap added. "Five Banshees and three Phantoms, all flying below radar. The Phantoms have Grunts manning side-mounted plasma turrets."

"I'd bet a year's salary they're planning to extract on those Phantoms once the Covenant clear the sky. Otherwise they'd have gone already," Captain Price suggested, and Clover nodded in agreement.

Assuming this Brute Chieftain was as smart as he seemed, Clover imagined that his plan consisted of running until the Covenant managed to either completely destroy the UNSC fleet or, at the very least, heavily contested Peponi's orbit. That way they could load the memory block and their remaining troops onto the Phantoms and extract without the danger of getting shot down. It's what Clover would've done in his shoes, which was when he realized that none of the Brutes he fought actually wore shoes. In the grand scheme of things, he knew it didn't matter, but it was a unique detail he put away in the back of his mind regardless.

Peering through his scope, Clover spotted a pair of up-armored Shadows, one more than the other. Aiming his sniper rifle at its center, he said, "I think I have eyes on the memory cache. There's a heavily armored Shadow in the center of the convoy."

"I see it," Price replied. He let out a grunt, then continued, "That armor's too thick for our guns to pierce, and we can't exactly see what's inside regardless."

"So we do it the old-fashioned way. Fine by me," Ghost declared, and Clover nodded in agreement.

"Sounds about right," Price said. "Start painting potential kills. Remember your priority list. Target captains, heavy ordinance, and light-armored vehicles first. They don't know we're here yet, so let's make these first shots count."

"Acknowledged; painting targets now," Soap replied.

Through his sniper's scope. Clover saw eleven IR lasers cut through the storm, each one aiming towards the exposed heads of a Brute or Elite before shifting to another. Normally they would use a target's armor color to determine rank, but everything was a shade of light green through the night vision scope. Instead, they were scouring the convoy for whoever had the fanciest armor. The more elaborate it was, the higher the individual's rank. Their weapons were also considered. Taking out a Grunt with a fuel rod cannon was more important than a Brute Captain using a spiker. Clover himself was shifting his aim between a Brute driving a Chopper towards the front of the convoy and an Elite driving a Ghost right beside him, his finger lightly pressed against the trigger as he tried to line up a perfect shot to get both at the same time.

"Hey, Ebi," Captain Price suddenly whispered to the Ace Operative as he held out a metallic tub that was roughly the size of a griffball. "Got something for 'ya."

Raising his eyebrow in curiosity, Clover carefully took the offered object and held it close to his face, then replied, "Thanks. What is it?"

"That is tub of octanitrocubane," Captain Price answered. "We like to call them octas for short.

"With a name like that, I can see why," Clover remarked as he tilted the octa from side to side. "I take it this is an explosive?"

"Yep. The engineers were setting them up to destroy the Cartographer. I convinced one of them to give me a spare," Price confirmed. "I'd be careful with that if I were you. That is an expensive piece of equipment you're holding. Each tub costs more than a HAVOK tactical nuke."

"Really? Then why bother using them?" Clover asked.

"They're shaped charges and their yield doesn't decrease in vacuum, not to mention their timed fuses are basically impossible for anyone to shut off without the right codes," Price clarified. "Sure, they're expensive, but the brass thinks they're worth it, and after using them a few times, I happen to agree."

"I'll take your word for it," Clover said. "What's the yield?"

"A hundred kilotons," Price answered in a matter-of-fact tone, which caused Clover to freeze.

Slowly, the incredulous Ace-Operative commander turned his head towards Captain Price, who wasn't even looking at him as the ODST continued to aim towards the convoy on the other side of the valley. After a moment, Clover smacked his lips then quietly repeated, "…A hundred kilotons."

"Yep. That thing goes off, anything within a two kilometer radius is either dead or sure as hell wishes they were."

"…And you just decided to give it to me why?"

"They say you're the lucky one. Figured it would be safest with you," Price answered with a nonchalant shrug.

Clover shook his head while carefully stowing the charge onto his lower back and pointed out, "While my Semblance is Good Luck, that doesn't really answer my question. Why do you have this in the first place, Captain?"

Captain Price released a sigh, then answered, "Let's be honest here, Ebi. We may have the advantage for now, but we both know this could turn south in an instant. If that happens, we cannot allow the Covenant to escape with their prize. Should everything else fail, and you're the last one standing, I want you to prime that octa, get as close as you possibly can to that convoy, and detonate it. It'll kill everyone nearby, but at least the Covenant won't find Remnant or the other colonies."

Clover was silent for a moment, then grimly nodded and replied, "Sounds like an acceptable trade to me."

"Thought so," Price said, briefly tilting his head to look at Clover and joked, "Talk about an Ace-up your sleeve, eh?"

Despite his face being covered by a polarized visor, Clover could feel that the veteran ODST was smiling, and he couldn't help a snorting chuckle at that. But that lasted for only a moment as Price immediately went back to his sniper rifle and recentered on his target. Clover did the same, and he held position. They were all standing by for several moments which seemed to stretch into eternity, waiting for the signal to engage. Once they gave it, the Warthogs lying out of sight below and the Falcons above would swarm the Covenant, turning the entire valley into a warzone.

Finally, he heard Captain Price calmly order, "Execute."

At once, a volley of twelve shots rang out, cutting through the storm. White contrails followed the bullets and, through skill backed by fortune, all twelve found their targets.

[~]

One moment, the Covenant convoy was cautiously making their way down the mountain pass, their eyes and ears peeled for any sign of the UNSC but otherwise remaining calm. The next, twelve heads ceased to exist as Brute Captains, those carrying heavy weapons, and drivers of vehicles were struck by pinpoint accurate sniper fire. Choppers veered off to the side, either striking the mountain and exploding in a ball of fire or careening off the edge and falling into the valley below. A Prowler's plasma turret went off from a dead man's trigger which just so happened to veer into a nearby Ghost and reduce it and its Elite driver to molten slag. For a brief second the Brutes were stupefied as they looked around to try and figure out just what happened, which gave the snipers enough time to make a second volley. Unlike the first, only half managed to hit their targets, and as the bodies fell and tumbled across the ground and under the vehicles behind them, the Brutes began to bark and roar as they finally realized they were under attack.

"Go, go, go!" Elm shouted as she stood within the troop bay of a Falcon, Timber in its rocket launcher configuration. She was standing to the right of the Falcon's gunner manning a heavy machine gun, with Gaz on the other side aiming with his BR55.

From her perch, she could see dozens of Falcons around them descending from the clouds and mountaintops onto the unsuspecting Covenant forces, their rotor blades whipping up the rain and spraying much of it onto her face. At the same time, she saw numerous Warthogs emerge from side routes above and below the convoy, each one armed with a gauss cannon and a passenger wielding either a rocket launcher or grenade launcher. Bright blue contrails sprang from the gauss cannons as they fired their hypersonic projectiles which tore straight through the Covenant armor in one or two hits. They initially focused on the flight of Banshees, destroying them before they had a chance to turn around and engage the humans attacking them. They crashed into the mountainside, causing rocks and debris to tumble and fall down onto the forces below.

But the Brutes quickly recovered and began to retaliate. White-hot plasma bolts flew through the air, both from handheld infantry weapons as well as their mounted guns, boiling the falling rain and slamming into the UNSC armor. Titanium alloy melted and carbon nanotube tires burst, causing the vehicles to veer out of control and either crash or be picked off by the Brutes themselves. The remaining fuel rods and brute shots fired their ordinance, destroying many of the Warthogs.

The entire valley fell into chaos as both sides engaged the other ferociously. Elm was firing Timber into the Brute forces below, reloading fresh rockets that a soldier handed her before firing again. She only stopped when several large globs of plasma zoomed in and attached themselves to a nearby Falcon. After a moment, the globs exploded like plasma grenades, destroying one of its engines and melting off a wing. The vehicle spun out of control and fell into the forest valley below, disappearing beneath the canopy before exploding in a ball of fire.

Grimacing, Elm followed where the homing plasma grenades came from and saw that its source was one of the Phantoms. All three were firing their front-mounted plasma cannons into the UNSC forces while the pair of Grunts manning the mounted plasma turrets were similarly engaging their foe. The side doors had now fully opened, exposing more Brutes, Jackals, and a few Elites as they fired beam rifles, carbines, fuel rod cannons and more onto the humans. Rockets and gauss rounds were already firing onto the Phantoms, but their armor was too thick for the attacks to have much effect.

"We need to take care of those Phantoms! They're tearing our forces apart!" Elm yelled as the gunner and Gaz fired their weapons.

"Tell me something I don't know!" Gaz responded, briefly pausing to reload before engaging once again. When yet another Falcon nearby exploded, the others inside the aircraft flinched but otherwise refused to let it stop them.

Elm's mind raced as she fired another pair of rockets, trying to get inside the troop bay of at least one of the Phantoms. But from their position, she was finding it difficult to do so as her rockets simply struck the top armor. If they descended further, the pilot would probably be able to give Elm a proper angle, but that put them at risk of the Covenant's anti-air fire. As she reloaded her weapon, her frown deepened, and the grip on her weapon increased.

That was when she heard her partner's voice over the radio as Vine called out, "Elm, I have an idea."

"Hit me, Vine. I'm all ears," Elm replied as she looked across the battlefield to Vine and Farah's Falcon as it pulled up beside them.

"I can reach out, grab you, and swing you over to one of the Phantoms," Vine suggested. "Then you can take out its engines."

Pursing her lips, Elm glanced down towards the Phantom in question before replying, "I don't know if I'll be able to destroy it. That armor's thick!"

"You don't have to destroy it, just get it out of the fight," Vine pointed out.

Realizing that he had a point, Elm nodded after a moment of hesitation and said, "Alright, let's do it!"

Lowering herself slightly, she glanced towards Gaz and said, "Try not to hit me."

"No promises!" Gas joked as he picked off a Grunt holding a fuel rod gun, prompting another to hastily throw the weapon out of the Phantom before it exploded like a grenade.

Despite herself, Elm smirked, then leaped out of the Falcon. Vine immediately shot his arms forward, a golden aura extending out of them as they reached towards Elm. Grabbing onto her wrists, Vine swung his partner through the air before letting go, catapulting her onto the middle Phantom's top. She briefly bounced across the smooth, metallic roof, but quickly pulled out a titanium knife that the UNSC had given her and slammed its blade into the hull. Using it as a handhold, she pulled herself to her feet, using her Semblance to anchor herself in place. She flashed Vine and the others a thumbs up and began to turn around towards the engines, shifting Timber into its hammer configuration in anticipation of the work that needed to be done.

But before she could take a step, she heard a pair of angry roars as two Brutes, one carrying a gravity hammer and the other wielding a spiker, pulled themselves up onto the roof of the Phantom to join her. Realizing they must've heard her arrival, Elm glanced between both of them then readied herself, raising Timber high above her head.

"Alright…let's dance," Elm prodded, looking each dead in the eye.

Whether the Brutes understood her or not, they responded to her challenge with angry roars then charged forward. Unlike her, though, it was hard for the aliens to maintain their balance on the Phantom's smooth, wet surface, and the heavy wind wasn't doing them any favors. That didn't stop them, however, as they continued to advance. Smirking to herself, Elm ran towards the one with a gun first, each step anchoring into the Phantom's roof with roots emerging from her bare feet and allowing her to sprint with well-practiced timing. She shoulder-checked the first Brute, knocking him off balance as his burst of spikes went wide and sending him tumbling backward, the spiker pinwheeling out of his hands as he slid down the wet curve of the drop-ship and futilely scrambled for a grip with his claws. With a yelp, he disappeared beneath the edge of the Phantom, falling into the valley below.

Elm immediately turned around as the second Brute managed to catch up to her, the alien raising his hammer in an attempt to strike her down. She hastily swung Timber upward, knocking the warhammer away. Continuing with her momentum, Elm spun and crouched, activating her weapon's rocket boosters and swinging Timber into the Brute's legs. Through the sounds of the raging storm and the rumbling engines, she heard a loud crack as bone and armor shattered. The Brute let out a pained roar, but it was a testament to just how durable he was that he still tried to retaliate by slamming her face with the bottom of his hammer's pommel. Striking her nose, Elm's head shot back, but she quickly grabbed the pommel, smirked wickedly towards the surprised Brute, then ripped the weapon from his hands before slamming its head into his chest. A wave of gravity shot forward, crushing his chest and sending him flying back. The wind carried him away, and Elm watched as he disappeared in the distance.

"Have a nice flight," Elm joked, then picked herself up. Glancing at the gravity hammer in her grip, she shrugged and carried it in her right hand, Timber in the other before running towards the engines. Lifting up her weapons, she grinned and raised them back. Her Aura Roots dug deeper into the metal then, with a loud yell, she swung both hammers as hard as she could into the left engine.

The engine, already damaged by a barrage of rockets and hypersonic projectiles, buckled under the force. It exploded in a cloud of sparks, spewing hot dark-blue gas as the Covenant aircraft listed dangerously to the side. Below, she could hear the Covenant troops inside the troop bay begin to panic as the pilots lost control, the Phantom careening off to the side and falling towards the jungle. Taking that as her cue, Elm turned around, stowed both of her weapons across her back, and ran towards the front of the crashing Phantom. Overhead, Vine's Falcon descended, her partner already reaching out towards her.

Once she reached the edge, Elm leaped forward, allowing Vine to reach out, grab her, then hoist the Ace Operative onto his Falcon. Once she was safely aboard, she smiled towards her partner as he gave her a quick pat on the shoulder. Then she turned around and watched as the Phantom fell. Although she wasn't anything close to an expert in Covenant aircraft, to her it looked like it was somewhat of a controlled crash, at least as much as it could be. Soon the Phantom disappeared underneath the jungle canopy, leaving only a burning column of smoke to mark its location.

Beside them, they heard Farah report the crash over TEAMCOM, and a pair of Falcons were already moving in to secure the site. The Lieutenant then turned towards Elm and Vine to report, "We've got a problem. The fleet's getting hit hard. We won't have orbital supremacy for much longer."

"Damn it. When that happens, that data's as good as gone," Elm growled, her gaze shifting towards the two Shadows. They were surrounded on all sides by the most heavily armed members of the convoy, with the two remaining Phantoms similarly keeping close and acting as shields.

That was when she saw him, the Brute Chieftain who was leading this Covenant force. He had climbed out of the target Shadow to take the place of its gunner who had been killed by sniper fire, firing the plasma turret towards anyone trying to engage. Elm's anger boiled up to the surface, and she aimed Timber towards it.

"Give me rockets!" she ordered, hoping to blast him to smithereens.

"I can't, we're out!" one of the soldiers inside the Falcon's troop bay reported, causing Elm to let out a curse.

"Damn it!" she yelled as she lowered her weapon, struggling to figure out what to do next.

That was when she had an idea. Glancing at her feet, she wondered if it would even work. Then she figured that, if she could stop a charging Megoliath in its tracks, she could do the same for a Shadow.

Vine seemed to recognize the look on her face as he warned, "Don't, it's too risky."

"Too late, already doing it," Elm replied as she switched out Timber for her pilfered gravity hammer, then jumped down from the Falcon.

He watched her descend as one of the soldiers asked, "Did she just jump?!"

"Yes, yes she did," Vine confirmed, releasing a sigh since he was well aware of the type of landing strategy his partner favored.

Elm's ponytail flapped behind her in the screaming wind as she fell spreadeagled, aiming for her target before shifting to hold the hammer upside down between her feet like a shovel. She then landed on a Prowler hammer head first, crushing it under the force of the gravity strike which cushioned her impact, and leaving her standing right in the middle of the convoy. She reached down with her Aura Roots as deeply as she could, anchoring in place as she raised her captured gravity hammer up high. The few remaining Ghost and Chopper drivers, upon seeing her, attempted to run her over, but Elm simply swatted them away with mighty hammer blows and waves of gravity. The bulk of her attention was reserved for the heavy up-armored Shadow, locking eyes with the Brute Chieftain who attempted to turn his plasma turret and fire upon her. But before he could, a sniper shot rang out, striking the gun and causing it to explode in a shower of sparks and gas, making the Brute flinch back.

"Thanks, Clover," Elm muttered to herself, then stowed the heavily depleted gravity hammer behind her back.

Reaching forward, she braced herself just as the Shadow slammed into her palms. Her legs bent with the catch as she felt the earth buckle under the strain, and she released a pained yell from the exertion. But thanks to her Aura Roots, she held her position firmly, then shifted the vehicle's momentum and began to lift the Shadow up with every muscle in her body.

The Chieftain could only stare at her in bewilderment as they locked eyes again, as another Brute pulled his upper body out from the sharply tilting troop bay in a similar state of shock. But this only lasted a moment as the pair of Brutes aimed their spikers towards Elm, hurrying to stop her even as their hovercraft came to a brief vertical rest in her curled arms. Before they could even get a chance, Elm straightened up with a roar and caber tossed the armored Shadow off the mountain side. It crashed and tumbled down the rocky slope, throwing its unsecured occupants off into longer arcs down to the jungle.

"That's for Harriet, you son of a bitch!" Elm declared as she watched the Shadow careen down the scree, a satisfied smile on her face.

The rest of the Covenant convoy, including the second Shadow, sped off as fast as they could, a few more vehicles succumbing to UNSC fire before veering off into a side route. While a few Falcons and Warthogs continued their pursuit, the rest immediately began to converge onto the crashed Shadow, seeking to claim its cargo for their own. Elm began to jump down the mountainside, bounding from rock to rock rather than wait for transport. A pair of Falcons managed to reach it first, and a report of gunshots could be heard as the soldiers picked off any survivors. By the time Elm arrived, two squads of soldiers were securing the crash site, the broken bodies of Covenant soldiers littered on the ground. To her dismay, she didn't find the Chieftain among their number, but figured he must've been killed when he was thrown from the crash.

"Hmm, this thing's in remarkable condition," one of the marines said as another managed to turn it back on. "Damn Shadow still runs. Barely, but still."

"We'll send it over to ONI, they'll love to get their hands on this," another said.

More Falcons arrived, these carrying Vine, Clover, and the rest of Task Force 141. As Clover approached her, he said, "That was reckless and dangerous. Well done."

"Thank you, sir," Elm replied with a smile on her face, then sharply tilted her head towards the vehicle. "But enough talk. Let's pop this can."

"Couldn't agree more," Clover said, then together he, Elm and Vine walked towards the Shadow's troop bay. Elm couldn't hide the victorious smile on her face. They were finally about to bring an end to this nightmare, to seize victory after all the hardship and loss they suffered.

Grabbing a split seam in the armor plating, which Elm realized had the same color and composition of a Warthog chassis, she pulled as hard as she could. The metal squealed under the strain but quickly buckled at the welds, allowing them to eagerly look inside. She and the others expected to find the Covenant data drive secured inside, along with the bodies of any Zealots still jealously guarding it.

Instead, all they found was nothing.

"What?" Elm asked herself, not quite understanding what was going on. "Where is it? Where's the data drive?"

"Was it thrown from the crash?" Vine asked, but one of the soldiers shook her head.

"No, it was sealed shut when we got here," she revealed.

"Then where the hell is it?!" Elm asked, desperately searching the Shadow for anything she might've overlooked.

That was when Vine's eyes widened, and he muttered, "It was a decoy…."

"What?" Clover asked as he focused his attention on Vine as did everyone else.

"That Brute…he must've known what we were after," Vine explained as he pointed towards the Shadow. "He then made that Shadow into an obvious target, knowing we would assume they'd place the data drive in the most secure vehicle he had. Which means…."

"It was in the other one," Elm muttered under her breath.

A brief, heavy silence fell over the group, then Clover yelled into the radio, "Falcon 5, the Covenant still has the data drive! Destroy that other Shadow now!"

All they got in reply was a burst of static. He tried again only to receive the same response. Worry began to set in, then they heard the roar of an engine. Looking overhead, they saw a pair of slightly smoking Phantoms begin to ascend through the atmosphere. It didn't take long for them to realize what they were carrying.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!" Elm cursed. "They're getting away!"

"Captain, do we have any Pelicans nearby?" Vine asked, but Captain Price shook his head.

"No, they're helping with the Cartographer and the evacuation," Price revealed. He then turned to Farah and ordered, "Contact the Prowlers. Tell them to be on the lookout for a pair of Phantoms."

"With how many Phantoms there are right now, that might be difficult," Vine pointed out, and Price rounded on him.

"I know that, but do you have any other ideas? Because I'm all ears!" Price yelled, anger and frustration filling his voice.

No one said a word for a moment, then Gaz spoke up and proposed, "The crashed Phantom."

"What?" Price asked, and Gaz shook his head.

"Ederne managed to bring down one of the Phantoms," he explained. "But it had a controlled crash. If we're lucky, it might still be able to fly."

The Ace-Ops and Task Force 141 looked at each other for a moment, then Clover said, "That's good enough for me. Come on, let's move!"

They immediately ran towards the nearest Falcons, the Army soldiers staying behind to secure the site for retrieval. As soon as they got into the troop bays, the tiltrotor aircrafts took off towards the Phantom crash site, using the column of smoke as a beacon. Within a few minutes they arrived at their destination, and they were in such a rush they jumped out of the Falcons before they properly landed. Brushing past the Army soldiers who didn't know what was going on, the Ace-Operatives and the ODSTs piled into the cockpit. From what they could see, it was heavily banged up, and it was an open question whether it would actually still fly.

"God damn it, controls aren't responding!" Price revealed as he and Gaz took the pilot and copilot seats. "Any of a hundred different things could've been broken in the crash!"

"Gonna try a system reboot, maybe that'll start it up," Gaz added, pressing a few buttons on the dash that Elm couldn't even begin to understand. Clearly Gaz and Price did, though, as they went through the instruments with practiced ease.

But after a few precious minutes, it was clear that nothing they were trying was having any effect. Gaz let out a curse and said, "Damn it, nothing's working!"

"We can't just be stuck here!" Elm yelled, frustration leaking into her voice.

"We're trying!" Price shouted back. "But unless you can pull a miracle out of your ass, this hunk of junk won't-!"

That was when a frustrated Clover suddenly banged his fist against the control panel between them. Before Price could yell at him, he and the others froze in amazement as the panel lit up. Blue and purple lights filled the cockpit, and they could feel the remaining engines come to life.

Everyone stared at Clover, who himself was looking at the control panel blankly before he admitted, "I honestly didn't think that was going to work. I've only done that with, like, vending machines before."

After a moment, Price laughed and said, "God, I love your Semblance."

"What d'you think it'll take for us to keep these guys after this?" Ghost muttered at the back of the group as he elbowed Soap.

"We'll see who we have to get on our knees and beg to for that later," his squad mate rejoined with an elbow of his own.

With that, the Phantom began to rise off the ground slowly and shakily, the troop bay doors sealing shut. They then took off towards the other two Phantoms, praying that they wouldn't be too late.

[~]

As the third Phantom flew off through the storm clouds above, the humans guarding the crashed Shadow stood and watched it go. They were still in the process of organizing everything, moving the bodies off to the side and placing the small arms into small boxes. Once the spacecraft disappeared, the soldiers went back to their work and idle chit chat.

"Here's hoping they manage to catch up to the squidheads," one of the soldiers remarked as he moved a full box somewhere else.

"They gotta, otherwise a whole lot of people are gonna die," another replied as she kicked the dead body of a Grunt.

"I know," a third responded. After a moment, he then asked, "Hey, those Huntsmen they called them…what do you make of 'em?"

"I don't know who they are or where they came from, but I'm sure as hell happy they're on our side," a soldier answered, resulting in a chorus of affirmations from the others.

"Yeah, no kidding," the third soldier admitted. "Still, just…what are they? They ain't normal."

"Who cares? They kicked the Covenant's ass, that's enough for me."

"Not for me. I can't help but be curious. Are they some kind of…new super soldier? Like a Spartan?"

"A Spartan? You listening to those conspiracy theories again? They're not real."

"That's not true! My cousin swore he fought alongside one on Arcadia! They're real!"

"Look, if the UNSC just so happened to have super soldiers that could take on entire armies of Covenant and wipe them out without even breaking a sweat, wouldn't you think they'd be boasting about that all the live-long day? Especially with how bad the war's going? Think for a moment; that doesn't make any sense."

The soldier was quiet for a moment, then waved up in the direction of the departed Phantom in response, "Okay…but isn't that what we just saw? I mean, I know they didn't look anything like the stories I've heard, but they have to have some truth to them."

"I've heard those stories, too, private. And, alright, I don't know how to explain all that action movie stuff just now, but I don't think we're gonna get a straight answer on it any time soon," his commanding officer admitted. Shaking his head, he then said, "Now enough chit-chat. We need to—"

He never managed to finish his sentence before his throat was suddenly pierced by a red-hot, glowing metal spike. The man fell to his knees and gurgled, boiling blood oozing out of the holes as more spikes suddenly shot out from the brush. The soldiers nearby began to panic and fire their weapons in all directions, trying to hit whoever was firing on them. But then one soldier was struck in the chest by a spike grenade which promptly exploded, sending a column of spikes into both him and the soldiers immediately in front of him. The pair of Falcons that had ferried them began to ascend, only for plasma grenades to be thrown into the troop bays and detonate, consuming both in balls of fire.

Within a few moments, every single human that had been guarding the Shadow lay dead on the ground, pools of blood building around them. The jungle became silent and still once again, then out of the brush came two cloaked figures, their silhouettes partially revealed through the torrential rain. Soon the active camouflage units deactivated, revealing Atriox and Decimus, both of whom were sporting deep wounds.

Atriox immediately moved towards one of the humans with a red cross emblazoned on an armband. Turning her over, he pulled out several canisters of biofoam and tossed a few to Decimus. The pair of Jiralhanae immediately began to administer the first aid spray into their wounds, wincing from the stinging pain that thankfully quickly subsided.

"We need to move, now," Atriox ordered his sole surviving subordinate. "Once the humans check in and realize they're dead, more will arrive."

"This Shadow's barely functional, Chieftain," Decimus pointed out. "We'll be lucky if we get even halfway to the next rendezvous point."

"Better than trying to do so on foot," Atriox countered as he held onto the side of the driver's cabin.

After a moment, Decimus nodded in understanding and replied, "Of course, Chieftain."

Hopping into the driver's seat, Decimus turned the vehicle on. The Shadow shook and sputtered, and smoke rose out of the numerous gaps in its armor. But nevertheless, it was able to shakily begin moving, disappearing into the thick jungle surrounding them.

Atriox's thoughts weren't focused on the status of the vehicle, though. At least not fully. Instead, his attention was on what the human soldiers had been foolishly talking to each other about in the open, as well as the state of the convoy.

"I think it is safe to assume we're the only ones left," Atriox suggested, and Decimus let out a grunt.

"So it would seem. Unfortunate those Zealots couldn't have joined them," Decimus complained, but Atriox shook his head.

"No, better that they managed to escape with the Cartographer's data," Atriox pointed out. "That was the mission, and so long as they manage to bring it safely to the Valorous Penance our pack brothers won't have died in vain."

Decimus let out a disbelieving snort but otherwise said nothing. It was a sentiment that Atriox was all too familiar with. He had been fighting in this war against the humans since the very beginning, sent out with more and more of his packmates against their defenses. Forty at a time would go in, and time after time only he would return. His current station with the Minister of Veracity had been a welcome change of pace in that he was given at least some level of autonomy, but even this still ended roughly the same. Frustration and anger had been building inside of him for quite some time, and it was proving increasingly harder to ignore.

Shaking his head, he then mused, "At least now we know what they're called. Huntsmen… The name suggests that they're like hunters chasing prey."

"Huntsmen, Spartans, they're all Demons to me," Decimus dismissed, but Atriox shook his head.

"No, they're not Demons, Decimus," Atriox countered. "As hard as it may seem, I know this: even with their vast strength and power, they're nothing more than men. And men can be killed."

The pair fell silent once again, the only sounds they could hear being the rumbling and shaking of the Shadow. After a few moments, Atriox ordered, "Once we reach a secure spot, park the Shadow then help me repair the communicator. We need to reach out to the Penance to request extraction."

"Of course, Chieftain," Decimus replied, following a narrow stream towards what they could only hope was salvation.

[~]

From the safety of his Phantom, Ir 'Haramai released a sigh of relief. Their engagement with the humans had been far too close for his liking, with the entire convoy save for him and his Zealots dead. The only upside was that arrogant Jiralhanae Chieftain had seemingly fallen in battle. Thrown down the mountainside like one of those disgusting rats Ir hated so much, how appropriate. After what he had done to him at the mini-base, Ir could get some satisfaction in that, even if he would have preferred to cut the savage down himself. The Gods themselves had clearly acted to punish him, and for that he was grateful.

He took a moment to look around the troop bay of his Phantom. Rteda, Tul and Xexan were with him, while Viza, Isan, and N'thavu were guarding the memory block in the other Phantom. Their extraction had been hectic, with Ir's group providing cover fire for the others to load the Cartographer's data onto the Phantom and leave. Only once the still pursuing humans, along with their last remaining Jiralhanae escorts, had been vanquished did Ir and the others leave.

All of the surviving Zealots, including himself, sported fresh wounds. Purple blood leaked out of cuts on their heads, arms, and chests, which would one day become honorable scars from which stories could be told of. Despite everything, Ir couldn't help but feel his chest swell, and he felt the need to speak.

"Brothers, rejoice! For today we have achieved a grand victory against the humans!" Ir declared as he held his arms out wide. "Despite all of their efforts, despite all the challenges hurled against us, we managed to obtain our prize. Soon the wealth of the Cartographer's holy knowledge will be gifted to the Covenant, from which more relics will be found. Today, we are one step closer to the Great Journey!"

Tul and Xesan yelled in approval, pumping their fists into the air. But Rteda was stoically silent, his head turned to the side and conspicuously separate from the others, seemingly exhausted from their trials. Whereas before Ir might've felt compelled to comfort his newest recruit, now all he could do was let out a grunt and be thankful that he wasn't doing anything else to get on his nerves. His patience with Rteda was already quite thin, and he didn't want to hear anything else that might set him off. Better for Rteda to be silent than to do otherwise.

"Blademaster," one of the pilots spoke from the cockpit. "We're picking up a new contact on our sensors."

Clacking his mandibles together, Ir walked towards the cockpit and asked, "What is it? More humans?"

"No, it's the other Phantom. The one that was shot down," the pilot revealed.

"Ah, I see," Ir said as he nodded to himself. "The survivors must have repaired it enough to escape. Hail them, I want to know just how extensive the damage is."

The pilot nodded and pressed a holographic button before requesting the other Phantom to speak. They waited for a moment, but received no response. Through the rear-mounted camera, Ir could see the other Phantom struggling to follow them, and he narrowed his eyes slightly. The pilot asked again but received no response. Just before he could ask for a third time, the damaged Phantom purposefully rocked from side to side, causing Ir to realize what was going on.

"Of course," Ir said. "Their communications equipment must've been damaged in the crash. They can hear us, but they can't talk back. With how damaged they are, it's a miracle they're able to hear us at all."

The pilots nodded in agreement, but then Rteda spoke up and suggested, "Or they're choosing not to talk to us for another reason."

Ir let out a frustrated groan, then asked, "And why might that be, Rteda?"

"That Phantom was shot down, and the humans would've immediately gone after it," Rteda pointed out. "For all we know that Phantom's crew might've been killed by the humans and now it is they who are piloting it after us. We should shoot it down."

"And if they're not?" Ir asked, turning around to face his subordinate. "Would you have us shoot down our own soldiers?"

"Would you have Demons follow us aboard the Valorous Penance?" Rteda countered, boring his eyes straight into Ir's and refusing to back down, his arms crossed over his chest.

Ir breathed in harshly through his nostrils. Part of him wanted to put Rteda back in his place for his defiant behavior, but the rest, as much as he didn't want to admit it, knew he had a point.

After a heavy moment, he then said, "Pilot, call ahead to the Minister. Have him station a security legion in the hangar. Should humans actually be piloting that Phantom, we'll be ready."

"Of course, Blademaster," the pilot said, already following his orders.

Based off the look Rteda was giving him, Ir knew that he didn't agree with Ir's course of action. But the Blademaster didn't really care. A single potentially boarded Phantom wasn't enough of an actual threat to the Valorous Penance. Should any humans actually be on board, they would be slaughtered by the time they showed their faces. Not even their Demons would be able to survive such a force. If they were lucky, they might even be able to capture one of them and finally find out more about what they were.

"This won't end well, I can feel it," Rteda claimed, and Ir let out a growl but otherwise ignored him.

Several more minutes passed, and Ir could feel the air around them begin to electrify. They were flying through the storm now, using the cloud cover to mask themselves. Soon they should be exiting the atmosphere and returning to the Valorous Penance. Then they would finally rid themselves of this wretched world.

His thoughts were broken when a gruff, familiar voice broke through the radio static and spoke, "This is Chieftain Atriox. Requesting extraction."

The Zealots looked at each other in surprise, with Rteda gasping and muttering, "He survived."

The pilots, meanwhile, immediately replied, "Chieftain, this is Phantom Psalm 451, we hear you."

"Finally. We've been trying to reach you for the past ten cycles. This damn thing barely works," Atriox replied, his voice cutting through heavy static but still understandable.

"How many are with you?" the pilot asked.

"Only myself and Decimus. The rest of our pack is dead," Atriox answered, and Ir heard Rteda let out a remorseful sigh.

"…I see. Standby," the pilot responded, then began to home in on the signal. After a moment, he turned towards Ir and revealed, "Blademaster, we're only a few units from his location, and there are no humans in the immediate area. It wouldn't be too much of a detour to pick him up."

Ir immediately shook his head and replied, "No, stay on course."

"What?!" Rteda yelled in response, and even the pilots looked at Ir in surprise. "You're just going to leave him?"

"Yes, I am. I am not diverting course for two lowly Jiralhanae," Ir pointed out. "Besides, if we attempt to extract them, that gives the humans enough of a chance to catch up to us. Better we return straight to the Valorous Penance."

"The memory block is in the other Phantom," Rteda protested, moving himself off the wall and pointing his finger at Ir. "We wouldn't be putting it in any danger if we go down to pick him up ourselves. You're leaving them to die for nothing!"

"Silence!" Ir barked, his voice echoing in the Phantom's troop bay and causing Rteda to clam up. Ir stomped forward and glared into Rteda's eyes and lowly growled, "Not. Another. Word."

Ir's hand hovered over his energy sword, his intent clear to everyone present. Rteda glanced down towards it but otherwise matched Ir's gaze with his own. He didn't say anything else after that, and after a moment Ir turned around and walked away.

The pilots looked at Ir, who gruffly nodded at them. They slowly nodded back, then the pilot said, "I'm sorry, Chieftain. But we can't extract you. The mission comes first. Blademaster's orders."

"WHAT?!" Atriox roared in anger. "BLADEMASTER, YOU SPINELESS-!"

That was when Ir reached forward and shut the line down, cutting Atriox off completely. He couldn't help but grin to himself, happy that, one way or another, he was finally rid of that wretched Jiralhanae. Glancing at his subordinates, he saw that Tul and Xesan nodded in approval, while Rteda was looking at him as though he was a monster. Ir rolled his eyes then looked forward once again, seeing the Phantom break the cloud cover and begin their final ascent to the stars.

As the Phantom fell into silence once again, he asked, "Do we have word on how the rest of the invasion is going?"

"Standby," the copilot said as he began pulling battlefield reports and reading through them. He then answered, "Most of the human fleet has been destroyed with minimal casualties to our own. Legions have begun to advance into the main city, but the humans are putting up a valiant defense, particularly around the space port. They're still attempting to evacuate their remaining population, although their capacity to do so has diminished significantly."

"Like doarmirs fleeing a sinking ship," Ir remarked in satisfaction. "I'm assuming the rest of the planet is quickly falling under our control?"

"Correct. Minor settlements and spaceports are being targeted and destroyed as we speak," the copilot confirmed.

"Excellent. And the Cartographer?"

"The humans managed to fortify the area before we arrived and are putting up heavy resistance," the copilot answered. "They've…hold on."

Confused and somewhat alarmed, Ir asked, "What is it?"

The copilot gulped loudly, then revealed, "They've…they've found evidence that the humans are planting heavy explosives all over the excavation site."

"Explosives?" Xesan asked. "Why would they plant explosives on a holy relic?"

Before anyone could respond, Rteda laughed and answered, "Atriox was right… The humans didn't believe they could keep the Cartographer for themselves, they never did. All they can hope for is to deny us its secrets. They intend to destroy it."

The Phantom fell silent, and Ir's heartbeats increased to a feverish pitch. The world around him began to swirl as the implication set in. The humans destroying the Cartographer, the holy site he was meant to excavate and protect. For them to do so would be a disaster of godly proportions. It wouldn't matter if he managed to secure a copy of the data, the loss of a holy relic was inexcusable. He would be blamed, his keep punished. Everything he had ever worked for, all of his accomplishments and service to the Covenant, none of it would matter.

He would be banished, left behind on the Great Journey as the weight of his failure stayed his feet. That could not be allowed to happen.

"Pilot, adjust course immediately to the Cartographer!" Ir ordered, catching everyone off guard.

"What?!" the pilots exclaimed. "But we have orders from the Minister to-!"

"I do not care! We will not let the humans destroy the Cartographer while we can do something about it!" Ir shouted, glaring into the pilots' eyes through their helmets.

After several tense moments, the pilots reluctantly nodded and said, "Adjusting course."

While Ir let out a sigh of relief, knowing that if he at least died trying to protect the Cartographer then his soul would be saved, an incredulous Rteda asked, "Blademaster, have you lost your mind?! We have orders to return to the Valorous Penance with the memory block!"

"Viza and the others will continue in our stead with the memory block in hand," Ir threw his subordinate's own argument back at him as he turned around.

But before he could say anything, Rteda angrily continued, "So instead of repaying our debt to Atriox, you would rather throw our lives away on a doomed attempt to retake the Cartographer?!"

"Watch your tone, Rteda! You do not understand the gravity of the situation!" Ir shouted back, hoping that would put Rteda back in his place, but to no avail.

"I understand it perfectly! It is you who doesn't understand!" Rteda countered, pointing his finger towards Ir as their argument intensified, causing Ir's anger to swell and the other Zealots to slowly back away. "Six Sangheili in a Phantom won't budge the scales of that battle one whit! You know the Minister will not allow this! We swore to give our lives to the Covenant, not to salvage your own pride and honor!"

"ENOUGH!" Ir yelled as he pulled out his energy sword and activated it, causing everyone, especially Rteda, to look at him in shock. Breathing in and out harshly, Ir pointed his blade towards Rteda's throat and began to calmly pronounce, "Rteda 'Vasovee… I have been more than patient with you. I have tried to make you understand, to mold you into an honorable Zealot… But it is clear to me now that is impossible."

"Blademaster…." Rteda muttered, a hint of betrayal in his voice, but Ir wasn't done.

"I can forgive you speaking out of turn, to intermingle with Jiralhanae, but to suggest leaving a holy Forerunner site to be destroyed by the humans is nothing short of heresy," Ir declared his judgement, taking a step forward as Rteda's arms fell slack. "By my authority as a Blademaster of the Covenant and the Ministry of Fervent Intercession, I banish you from the Zealots, I banish you from the Covenant, and I banish you from the Great Journey. When that time comes, you will be left behind, and all will know-!"

Before he could finish his sentence and strike down his heretical former subordinate, Rteda suddenly pulled out his plasma rifle and began to fire it from the hip. Several bolts of white-hot plasma slammed into Ir's shields, and he instinctively dived away to safety. But the automatic plasma-fire continued, striking the Phantom's control panel behind him and reducing it to molten slag. As Rteda attempted to follow his former master, the unshielded pilots were peppered by the bolts, killing them instantly. As Tul and Xesan desperately ran to the cockpit in an attempt to save the aircraft, they all felt the Phantom begin to lurch.

Then they were pinned to the ceiling as the dropship fell.

.

[~]

The city of New Timbuktu was covered in conflict. Banshees dueled with Hornets high over the city and between burning skyscrapers alongside Seraph, Baselard, and Nandao fighters. A steady stream of Phantoms and drop pods deposited more and more Covenant lances to engage human soldiers and marines on the ground. Plasma mortars fired by both Wraiths and orbiting vessels rained down in large arcs, exploding against fortifications and human forces alike. With each passing moment, more of the city fell under alien control, slaughtering everyone unfortunate enough to be in their path.

But despite the odds stacked against them, the humans defending the city refused to give up. AA batteries shot down any alien aerospace craft that got in range, with the heaviest keeping even Covenant frigates at bay. Kodiak mobile artillery guns fired upon groups of advancing Covenant soldiers and Wraiths after unarmed Wombat drones painted their locations for the gunners. Machinegun nests blocked off every major intersection and rifles were pointed out of practically every window, turning each street into a killing field and forcing the Covenant to advance room by room, building by building.

The heaviest fighting was centered around the city's spaceport, where in spite of everything being thrown at it, evacuations were still underway. Civilians, escorted by squads of marines and local policemen, were being brought in and placed into shuttlecraft both large and small. Everything that was capable of space travel and had a slipspace drive was being used, from cargo ships and cruise liners to luxury yachts seized from their owners. As soon as the ships were filled and an opening was made, the shuttlecrafts rocketed to space in a desperate attempt to escape.

Some were still shot down afterwards though, even with the AA and aerospace fighter screens.

But that was literally above the purview of the soldiers and marines who were seizing any chance, no matter how small, to get as many people to safety as possible. On a street not far from the spaceport, several squads dueled against an advancing company of Covenant. Manning machinegun nests and taking cover behind sandbags and wrecked vehicles, the entire street was filled with gunfire which mowed down any Covenant who stayed out in the open for too long.

The Elite commanders barked orders to their subordinates while exchanging fire, directing Hunters to advance to the front. They had tried to do so with Jackals previously, but their gauntlet shields quickly withered under the heavy machinegun fire. Unlike them, the Hunters were more than able to withstand the attacks, and quickly fired their assault cannons into the human fortifications which exploded in balls of neon-green fire. Anyone caught in the blast radius was incinerated, with more sent flailing to the ground due to the intense heat and burns. The Covenant immediately pressed forward to take advantage of the break in the defensive line, pouring through like leaking water.

The human soldiers desperately attempted to fight them off and retreat, but they were quickly gunned down. With the coast clear, the Covenant continued their advance, their eyes and ears searching for any sign of humans. But none were found, allowing most to temporarily lower their guard. The barricades were torn down to make way for Wraiths, which rumbled past and made the shattered windows nearby vibrate.

Soon, the entire street was mostly empty, with the bulk of the Covenant far ahead. But one Brute, unbeknownst to the others who paid him little attention, stopped and began to sniff the air. A familiar smell entered his nostrils, and he let out a soft growl as he began to follow it to a nearby alley. With a spiker in hand and his upper body leaning forward, he continued his advance, each step punctuated by several sniffs. As the smell grew more and more potent, his finger pressed against the trigger, ready to be fired as soon as he found the prey he was tracking.

But then, much to his surprise, a pair of muscular arms emerged out of thin air and grabbed his shoulders. He let out a yelp as he was dragged into the seemingly empty space, disappearing from view, followed by a series of thuds and sickening cracks. A few moments later, like a popped soap bubble, an invisibility field disappeared, revealing dozens of civilians along with a handful of police officers being escorted by May Marigold, Fiona Thyme, and Joana Greenleaf.

"That was close," May remarked as she glanced up towards Joana who was slapping her hands together. "Thanks for the save."

"No problem," Joana replied, ignoring the slightly horrified looks the civilians and police officers were giving to her and the broken body of the Brute Minor lying at her feet.

Holding up her crossbow staff, Fiona quietly made her way to the edge of the alley and poked her head just past the corner. After a moment, she raised her hand and beckoned the others to join her, letting them know that the coast was clear for now.

"Alright, let's move," May told the group, and together they all began to advance through the alleys. At the same time, she opened a private channel on TEAMCOM and reported, "Sienna, you got a company of Covenant heading your way."

"Good," Sienna replied. "We just finished mopping up the last one. We'll cut 'em off before they get to the spaceport. Thanks, Marigold."

"No problem. Give 'em hell," May said, then closed the line.

Ever since the Covenant began to attack New Timbuktu properly, the Happy Huntresses had been working non-stop to find and rescue trapped civilians. Robyn had remained at the spaceport alongside Lieutenant Dare, coordinating with the others and letting them know where any civilians were trapped while Sienna and her White Fang concentrated on fighting off the Covenant themselves. As Sienna put it, each group was focusing on the tasks they were best suited for, which May agreed with.

Together, they had managed to escort hundreds of civilians to safety, frequently employing May's Semblance to sneak them past Covenant patrols. Had they not had to worry about unarmed civilians, she was confident the Happy Huntresses could've taken many of them, including the company they just narrowly avoided. But trying to do so would've put the civilians in unacceptable risk. Besides, crossbow bolts weren't exactly ideal against heavy shields and armor unless they were tipped with their nearly depleted Dust, much as May loathed to admit it.

As they passed through another street, stepping over dead bodies of both humans and Covenant, May was forced to hastily erect an invisibility bubble as a flight of Banshees passed overhead alongside a Phantom. Only when they disappeared from view did they progress, making their way back towards the UNSC front line. To her dismay, it was much closer to the spaceport than the last time they made this trip. The street they were just passing through was well behind defensive positions before.

Eventually, they managed to find human forces manning an outpost. Snipers and marksmen were taking positions in nearby buildings and raised police platforms, with mounted machineguns being reloaded behind sandbag and titanium fortifications. There were several wounded soldiers being tended to, and most strikingly of all they saw the burning, warped wreck of a Scorpion tank lying in what used to be a fountain alongside a pair of dead Hunters.

"What happened?" Joanna asked as they were greeted by an Army sergeant.

"What do 'ya think happened?" the sergeant sarcastically answered while shaking his head. "Damn Covenant attacked us. Everything was going fine until a pair of Hunters showed up and destroyed our tank. We were able to put 'em down, but without that tank we're screwed. If they push us again…."

The soldier trailed off, not needing to elaborate any further. As the civilians behind the Huntresses whimpered, Fiona asked, "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"Unless you can pull a new tank out of your ass, no," the sergeant griped while shaking his head. "Don't worry about us. Just get these people—"

That was when Fiona nodded and stepped away from the man. Affronted, he was prepared to yell at her, only for the words to die in his throat as Fiona reached forward and, before their very eyes, pulled a partially scorched Scorpion out of a pocket dimension. It landed on the ground with a loud thud, causing everyone to stare at both her and the tank itself.

"We came across it during the evac, and didn't want to just leave it there. It's damaged, but still in decent shape," Fiona admitted while fiddling with her bandage. "Does this work?"

The sergeant was quiet for a moment, his jaw idly moving up and down as he struggled to say anything. After a moment, he finally replied, "Yes, tank goddess."

Fiona smiled, her sheep ears perking up as the sergeant immediately turned to a pair of soldiers whom May could only assume were the previous tank's crew and ordered, "Don't just stand there gawking! Get in that Scorpion!"

"Where the hell did she pull that from?!" the driver yelled in astonishment while doing as instructed.

"Allah just gave you a tank and you're questioning Him?!"

"No, sergeant!"

As the Scorpion roared to life, May could see the soldiers' spirits perk up as they hastened their preparations. She smirked and nodded at Fiona, affectionately rubbing her head before directing the others to move.

Now that they didn't have to worry about running into a Covenant patrol, the Huntresses and the evacuees were able to pick up the pace tremendously. The Huntresses never got too far from the civilians, always aware of the possibility that something could emerge out of nowhere and attack them. But soon they arrived at the edge of the spaceport. Gunfire was already filling the air as AA guns and missiles attempted to shoot down any Covenant aircraft assaulting them. Large crowds of civilians were being loaded onto transports, and several MPs were already running towards the Happy Huntresses to take the new arrivals off their hands.

"Go, go, we got them!" the MPs declared, ushering the terrified civilians to what they could only hope was safety.

May watched them go, then turned her attention skyward as she heard the shriek of Banshees attempting a divebomb. Before she could do anything, though, a bright blue contrail cut through the sky as a hypersonic projectile slammed into the lead Banshee's hull, destroying it instantly. It was followed by several more shots which destroyed the other Banshees before they crashed violently into the pavement.

Smiling to herself, May turned her head to follow the contrails where she saw Robyn standing on top of a crashed Pelican. In her hands was a M68 gauss cannon, the same kind that normally was mounted on the backs of Warthogs. Only Robyn, thanks to her enhanced strength, was firing it from the hip. Given all the destroyed Warthogs littered across the spaceport, it wasn't hard to figure out where she had gotten it. Beside her, working furiously on a terminal, was Lieutenant Dare, acting as her spotter and pointing out any incoming Covenant threatening the shuttles.

"We got a Phantom inbound on radar, forty-eight degrees north!" Dare yelled as she looked up at Robyn.

"I see it!" she confirmed, adjusting her aim towards the approaching alien dropship. She immediately began to fire, targeting the engines with her gauss canon. It took several shots, but eventually the first engine was destroyed, prompting Robyn to shift to the second. Once it, too, was destroyed it set off a chain reaction, and the entire Phantom exploded in a bright blue ball of fire, falling to pieces to the ground below.

As Robyn smiled to herself, she jostled the spent gauss cannon before throwing it to the side, saying, "I'm dry. Grabbing another."

The Huntress leapt down from the Pelican where she immediately grabbed another gauss cannon from a nearby pile. As she jumped back up to her previous perch, they heard the roar of engines which caught everyone's attention. She and everyone else turned to watch as several transports took off to the sky, including the one carrying the people the Happy Huntresses just rescued. Several Banshees attempted to intercept, but Robyn was already firing on them, destroying some of the aircraft and allowing a flight of Hornets to down the rest. A few of the smaller transports weren't so lucky, but thankfully most were able to break through.

Loud cheers were let out as they watched the transports break through the clouds and into the reaches of space, which increased even more when slipspace ruptures were confirmed.

May smiled to herself, pumping her fist in jubilation before Dare revealed, "Covenant forces are threatening to push through the main terminal. Marigold, take Thyme and Greenleaf then reinforce their position!"

"Got it!" May replied, then turned around and ran at full tilt towards the sound of gunfire.

[~]

The area around what was previously the center of government for the entire colony was chaotic as Covenant forces slammed against UNSC defenses. Soldiers from both sides exchanged fire with one another, plasma melting concrete and metal while bullets bounced off flashing energy shields. Rockets and grenades shattered the facades of nearby buildings, and snipers picked off whoever they could. It was hard to hear anything over the gunfire and explosions, much less all the shouting and screaming.

To Sienna Khan, she was in her element. Unlike the standard UNSC forces, she was right in the middle of the fray, taking the fight directly to the Covenant. Joining her were Gron and Abby, taking up a considerable amount of the Covenant's attention as they desperately tried to kill the Huntsmen slaughtering them. Yuri was providing sniper support, his weapon's reports sounding above the cacophony of the rest of battle as each one was punctuated by an exploding head.

With a savage grin on her face, Sienna repeatedly whipped, slashed, and stabbed at any Covenant soldier nearby with Cerberus Whip. She had long since run out of Dust blades, which reduced her weapon's effectiveness somewhat. But thanks to her Semblance, Grudge, each wound she or her allies inflicted upon her targets galvanized the power of her subsequent attacks. Like a tiger pouncing on weakened prey, she savagely mauled those who would do harm both to her and her people.

The few UNSC soldiers witnessing her assault openly cheered her on, some even taking potshots to wound one of the aliens and leaving them open for Sienna to finish off. It was a strange feeling, Sienna had to admit. Most of the time whenever she was in combat with humans, the last thing they were doing was supporting her. Mostly because she was defending herself or other faunus from their attacks, but the point remained the same. But even though it was strange, Sienna could get used to it.

Beside her, she saw Abby run up to a Wraith with her Aura Blade raised vertically in front of her to act as an impromptu shield for a few crucial seconds. When she got close enough, she leaped to the top of the alien hovercraft and sliced off the Elite gunner's head with one blow of her ancestral sword. Then, in the same motion, she flipped her weapon around and stabbed it into the cockpit, killing the driver and causing the vehicle to grind to a halt. Tossing the former occupant's body out and hopping into the driver's seat in his place, Abby intuitively took control of the Wraith much like Sepia had done before, and immediately hit the boost to splatter through another nearby lance of Covenant, much to the cheers of nearby soldiers.

Sienna's thoughts were broken when an Elite charged her with an energy sword. Ducking underneath the attempted stab, she wrapped Cerberus Whip's chain around his wrist while kicking his knee. The alien's shield buckled under the blow along with his knee, forcing him to the ground. At the same time, Sienna pulled Cerberus Whip as hard as she could, constricting the chain and quickly pinching off the limb, spraying purple blood into her face. She silenced the alien's pained screams by stabbing him with Cerberus Whip's last remaining blade held in a knife grip up through his mandibles into his brain, reducing them to a gurgle. As the body twitched uselessly, she kicked it away then turned towards the rest of his lance, which consisted of a bunch of Grunts who were looking at her with abject terror in their eyes.

"Roar," she mocked, causing the Grunts to throw their arms in the air and run around in a blind panic. Before she could attack them, the aliens were quickly gunned down by machinegun fire, much to her irritation.

Pressing her finger up to her ear, she complained, "They were mine."

"Sorry, saw a target. Had to take the shot," the gunner replied, his tone sounding insincere.

Sienna rolled her eyes, then shifted her gaze towards another nearby Covenant lance currently overrunning a foxhole. Running as fast as she could, she leapt over the humans and tackled the Elite Major leading the assault. She repeatedly swiped her hands in a clawed grip across his face, popping the shield before killing the alien by driving her fingers through his eyes. Before anyone could react, she then speared a Grunt's head and yanked her weapon to the side, turning him into an impromptu flail that sent the rest of his cadre flying back. When she was done, she pulled her weapon out of the Grunt's broken body and wrapped her bloodstained weapon around her equally purple wrist, checking around to see if anyone else was nearby.

"Holy shit…," a soldier muttered under his breath.

"That was badass," another remarked, causing Sienna's grin to widen.

But soon her grin disappeared as a Wraith emerged from an adjacent street. Soldiers began barking out warnings, and a pair of rockets fired from a nearby building slammed into the alien chassis. Although the Wraith was heavily damaged and began to smoke, it was still able to fire a single plasma mortar before an identical shot from Abby's own hijacked tank finally put it down. Sienna turned to watch as the mortar trailed across the sky, making a warbling noise as it went before it slammed into the side of the government building. An entire section of wall fell apart, alongside burning and melted corpses of whoever was unfortunate enough to be caught in the blast.

Letting out a snarl, Sienna turned and started to run towards the enemy, eager to enact some much needed retribution. As she attacked the Covenant once again, she noticed Gron taking on an entire street by himself. His Semblance was burning bright, with his entire body covered by an impenetrable golden sheen except for one small spot on his lower back. But with how fast Gron was moving, it was proving difficult for any of the Covenant to exploit the weakness. Swinging his sword in one hand and firing a pilfered plasma rifle with the other, Gron was cutting down any Covenant in his path, a savage snarl across his face.

At the same time, though, Sienna couldn't help but notice that Gron was doing absolutely nothing to come to the aid of the human soldiers who were nearby. Several were getting attacked and gunned down by Covenant soldiers, and while Gron would clearly notice their struggle he remained content to focus on his own battles. Sienna growled in irritation, then shifted her course and ran to join her teammate.

"Gron!" she shouted, spearing a Jackal in the chest then pulling him in to use his still-active wrist shield to protect herself from a volley of green plasma bolts. "What are you doing?!"

"What does it look like, I'm killing aliens!" Gron answered as he bisected an Elite at the waist. "Isn't that what you wanted?!"

"I mean why aren't you helping the UNSC soldiers?!" Sienna clarified, causing Gron to let out a groan.

"Isn't taking the bulk of their attention enough?"

"No, it isn't! Help them!" Sienna warned, giving her teammate a slight shove before running to reinforce his supposed allies.

Gron watched her leave then rolled his eyes. It was bad enough that she shot down his suggestion to smuggle Covenant weapons to Remnant for the White Fang and had been sticking to him like glue ever since. Now she was telling him to actively stick his neck out for humans? He was already putting his life on the line for their war, what else did she want from him? It was too much to ask for in his opinion.

But, nevertheless, he did as his commander ordered and ran to assist a squad of soldiers being attacked by a Covenant lance. Stabbing one Grunt through the chest with Gram, he fired his plasma rifle into the chest of the Elite Minor overseeing them, not letting go of the trigger until the alien weapon overheated and was forced to vent gas. He then grabbed a fallen plasma grenade, primed it, and stuck a Jackal with an expertly aimed throw. While he stayed perfectly still, the soldiers dove to the ground as the worryingly close grenade exploded, consuming the rest of the Covenant lance in its blast radius while the residual heat washed over his front with no effect.

"Jesus, man! Be careful with those things! You could've killed us!" a sergeant complained, prompting Gron to roll his eyes.

"You're welcome," he flatly sneered, then stalked off to engage more Covenant.

But, as he did, Gron heard a pile of rubble behind him shift as a half-buried Grunt, barely clinging to life, aimed and fired his needler directly towards his lower back, aiming for the clear hole in his shining Semblance. Most of the blamite needles harmlessly struck his Aura, but one managed to slip through the gap. Gron let out a gasp of pain as the crystal pierced the soft body armor he was wearing, following by a yell as the crystal exploded. Blood burst from the gaping wound as a small chunk of his back was blown out, and as he spun on his feet to fire his plasma rifle at the Grunt, the rest of his Aura shattered.

"Shit, shit, SHIT!" Gron cursed as he half-dove, half-fell into a nearby building to escape oncoming fire.

"Gron, what happened?!" Yuri asked over TEAMCOMM.

"SHIT! DAMN GRUNT GOT ME!" Gron reported, taking cover behind a polycrete pillar while blind-firing his plasma rifle towards the Covenant soldiers advancing on him after seeing his clearly advertised vulnerability, using his helmet's motion tracker to get a vague idea of where to aim.

"What do you mean a Grunt got you?"

"I mean I don't have Aura anymore, jackass!" Gron confirmed, wincing as he awkwardly reached his hand around to feel his wound. When he pulled it back, he saw that his entire palm was drenched in blood. His breathing grew rapid and shallow, and his peripheral vision started to blur.

"Stay put, we're on our way!" Sienna yelled into TEAMCOM. "Abby, with me! Yuri, give us cover fire!"

Part of Gron began to hope that his teammates and fellow faunus would be able to get to him in time, but that was when a series of explosions rang out from across the street. A hail of plasma mortars, fired from deeper in the city and well out of range of the UNSC's rocket launchers, reduced anyone, both human and Covenant, to ash. The buildings shook and shuddered, and much to Gron's dismay he saw a massive crack begin to appear on the roof.

"Oh, shit!" he yelled as he scrambled to his feet and hobbled as fast as he could out of the collapsing building, diving out of a window into a back alley, and the world became filled with noise as several buildings followed suit.

A cloud of dust and debris consumed everything, and Gron felt a tremendous weight pressing on his back. Realizing that he was buried, he forced himself to push his body up as hard as he could. His muscles burned, and blood trailed down his midsection and legs. But soon he was able to lift the debris up far enough to where he could get a more solid grip and shove it aside. As Gron breathed heavily, he tried to get a sense of his bearings, then looked down at his feet.

Much to his dismay, he could no longer see the plasma rifle at all as it was buried under a mountain of rubble. He was, however, able to see Gram's hilt. Reaching down to grab it, he pulled as hard as he could, expecting the weapon to give some resistance as the blade was buried. But instead he nearly fell back as the hilt alone came up with no resistance at all.

"Oh, no…," he muttered as he stared at his shattered blade. Releasing a heavy sigh, he placed it back into his scabbard and tried to move out, only to trip and stumble down the small hill of rubble he found himself in. With each impact, he let out pained grunts and yelps, only coming to a stop at the bottom.

As he laid motionlessly in pain and bleeding out from the many cuts now spread across his body, he shakily pressed his finger against his ear and whimpered, "I…I need help. Someone…."

All he got was static, telling him that either his communicator was destroyed in the collapse or the situation outside was worse than he thought. Gron instinctively curled into a fetal position and tried to keep pressure on his wound. Several minutes passed while all he could do was concentrate on breathing and try to ignore the pain. But then, much to his surprise, he saw six yellow dots emerge on the edge of his motion tracker. They were followed by voices along with a series of frantic footsteps.

"Hey, I found someone!" he heard a woman yell near him.

"Shit, he's bleeding bad! Give me some biofoam!" a man ordered as Gron felt several hands start to turn him over. Soon, all six soldiers were talking over each other, and despite Gron's attempts to say something, he found that he lacked the strength to do so.

"Help me take his armor off!"

"What the…are those scales?"

"Who cares, he's one of us, now get him patched up!"

Soon Gron felt a stinging pain in his lower back, followed by cool relief as his gaping wound was plugged. Only then was he able to regain enough focus to see his surroundings clearly, including his rescuers. Much to his surprise, he saw that they were the very soldiers he had just saved from the Covenant lance. They must've seen him getting wounded and came to get him.

He tried to say something, only for the sergeant to shake his head and say, "Don't worry, it's fine. You're going to be okay."

"Command, this is Alpha-2. We have wounded and are in need of medevac, over," a private reported, then looked at Gron and asked, "What's your name?"

It took him a moment to build up the strength, then he answered, "Gron… Gron Traekke. Where's…where's Sienna?"

"The tiger lady?" the private asked, and when Gron nodded he said, "From what I saw, she and that Abby chick were well away from any collapsing buildings. They should be fine. I'll radio her in, let her know we have you."

"Damn Wraith artillery. Just when it looked like we might have it on our side for once," another private complained.

"Stop complaining," the sergeant chastised, then snapped his fingers at two men next to Gron. "Adea, Kwame, help him up. He's in no shape to walk on his own."

"Yes, sir," the two corporals replied as they holstered their MA37s across their backs, then began to lift Gron up on their shoulders.

The faunus couldn't help but let out a grunt of pain, but soon they were off, carefully making their way through the maze of collapsed buildings. Half-buried bodies of humans and Covenant could be seen around every corner, but the soldiers and Gron moved past them with only cursory checks for survivors. Not a word was said between any of them as they kept their eyes peeled for any sign of hostiles. But in sharp contrast to the chaos that filled the air previously, everything was eerily calm.

"Is…is she…?" Gron painfully asked, and the private holding the radio nodded.

"Yeah, your friends are on their way, and they're bringing a lot of backup with 'em," he confirmed, then chuckled and added. "Some ONI lady even popped in and said she's coming. Sounds like you're some kind of VIP or something, eh?"

Despite himself, Gron couldn't help but smirk and laugh, but stopped when the act caused a flare of pain to shoot through his back. Before the private could say anything else, the sergeant grunted to get them to be quiet, not wanting to give away their position.

After several more minutes, though, everyone froze as they picked up a series of red dots on their motion trackers. Realizing what was coming their way, the soldiers looked around and saw a partially collapsed storefront. The sergeant snapped his fingers and pointed towards it, and they shuffled their way inside. Adea and Kwame carefully placed Gron behind cover in the back, but when he drew his backup pistol and tried to stand they shook their heads.

"No, you're injured. Stay down and let us handle this," they told him, then took firing positions on the opposite side of the store to not risk exposing him.

Soon they were able to hear aliens talking to themselves, and Gron cautiously peeked out from behind his cover to watch them approach. The soldiers didn't do anything, either waiting for the best moment to strike or praying for the Covenant to pass without noticing them. Most likely the latter, given their current situation. Gron wished that he had his Aura, then he could just activate his Semblance and kill them all himself. But for a Semblance as powerful as his own, there was a tremendous downside. The longer he had it up, the longer it would take to come back once his Semblance was finally deactivated or his Aura was shattered. Based off of how long he had been using it, it would take at least a day for it to recover.

That was when some falling debris caused the Covenant to look at the storefront, where they saw the soldiers with their weapons primed, who immediately opened fire. The unprotected Grunts and Jackals immediately in the crossfire were gunned down, but the Elites were protected with their energy shields and quickly retaliated. Volleys of plasma fire shot through the openings, just barely missing the soldiers who screamed in pain as the intense heat caused serious burns. Despite the pain, the soldiers continued to fight as hard as they possibly could, refusing to give in as the Covenant recovered and fired everything they had.

Part of Gron wanted to contribute his own paltry firepower to the exchange, but the rest decided to keep his head down. Besides, the humans told him not to do anything, and for now they seemed to have it handled. Hopefully Sienna, Dare, and the others would be here soon to pull him out of this mess.

For several minutes, the UNSC and Covenant exchanged fire, tossing grenades whenever possible and only pausing to either reload or vent their weapons. At the edge of Gron's motion tracker, he could see new yellow dots flicker, but they quickly disappeared as they tried to get through the maze they found themselves in. Although Gron didn't pretend to be a religious man, he prayed to the Animal God for salvation all the same.

That was when a carbine round struck the Army sergeant in the head, causing his lifeless body to fall to the ground. He was followed by one of the privates who was then felled by a plasma bolt to the chest, exploding into a cloud of boiling gore. One by one, the other soldiers were mercilessly gunned down by the attacking Covenant, leaving only Gron behind.

Realizing that he was alone, with reinforcements too far away to save him and the Covenant converging on the storefront to make sure there were no survivors, Gron struggled to find a way out of this. After a moment, an idea from before began to take root. It was a long shot, but it might just be the only chance he had to survive, and with a shaky breath he dropped his unfired pistol.

Pushing himself up to his feet, Gron removed his helmet and the rest of the armor that the soldiers hadn't already cut away, showing off his scaled skin as much as possible. Then, with his hands raised upward, he willingly revealed himself to the Covenant and said, "I… I surrender."

At once there were several guns pointed at him, but none fired. Instead, the Covenant were looking at him with obvious confusion, trying to figure out what he was. Taking this as a good sign, Gron continued, "I…I'm not one of them… I'm not human… I'm a faunus…."

The Covenant looked at each other and continued talking to one another in their alien language, some of them repeating the word "faunus" to each other questioningly. In the corner of his eye, Gron thought he saw movement from behind the Covenant, but he wasn't sure if it was humans or more aliens. Refusing to put his hope in that, he kept his attention on the Covenant themselves, willing for them to recognize the truth.

But soon the aliens' debate over his statement was cut short by an angry command from the Elite leading them. Gron tried not to let his worry show as the Elite major stepped closer and made a show of looking him up and down with the same kind of disdainful sneer that he recognized from countless humans who were disgusted by the mere sight of him.

"Not human?" the alien mockingly repeated in mangled English, before shaking his head dismissively. "No, just another heretic, and coward too. You die like the rest."

Gron's eyes widened as realization and dread set in like a ball of ice dropping in his stomach. Sienna was right, they didn't care at all. They were going to kill him, regardless of his true species.

As the major idly raised a plasma pistol to his head, Gron's breathing grew harsh and he instinctively shot his hand towards his sword's hilt. The Elite stiffened, before laughing at the few centimeters of broken blade that popped free of the sheath with a pitiful ting.

"Not coward then? Good, die with honor."

The bloodthirsty creature holstered the pistol and grinned with relish as he drew and activated his plasma sword in its stead, waiting for the odd human to lash out with a futile attack before cutting him down. But Gron wasn't watching the Elite anymore, now nearly hyperventilating as he stared at the intact spigot built into Gram's hilt, and the innocuous button his shaking finger hovered over. The faunus gulped for air once more, before his breathing and shaking suddenly evened out all at once, and he looked up at the Covenant soldiers surrounding him with cold acceptance in his eyes.

With deathly calm, Gron simply spoke, "Okay then. We can all go to Hell."

And with that he squeezed the button before any of the Covenant had time to move or fire their weapons. A billowing green cloud of toxic gas spewed out of the sword and spread in all directions, picked up by the storm's heavy wind to engulf them all. Even as Gron fell to his knees, coughing and gagging as the poison began its work, he took grim satisfaction as all but the Grunts with their gas masks suffered the same fate.

He wanted to say something as his last words of defiance, but instead all he could do was violently throw up, before his seizing body fell lifelessly to the ground.

As the Grunts looked around and watched the Elites and Jackals accompanying them collapse as choking corpses, they looked at each other in astonishment. The poison gas, its work done, was subsequently blown away by the storm, leaving the air clear. Despite the carnage around them, the Grunts couldn't help but laugh in relief that, for once, they survived while the others perished.

"Thank the Gods for sweet, glorious metha—" one of them said, only for him and the other Grunts to be immediately cut down by the newly arrived UNSC forces.

Once all the Grunts were dead, Sienna ran forward, jumping over their bodies and muttering to herself, "No, no, no…."

Sliding to a halt besides Gron's body, she lifted him up and pressed her fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. Dare, Abby, and Yuri were beside her while the other soldiers took up defensive positions.

"Is he…?" Yuri asked, then Sienna sadly looked up at him and nodded.

"He's gone," she confirmed, then clenched her jaw. "Gods…damn it. If he hadn't tried to surrender, he could've hidden. We would've…!"

She wasn't able to finish her sentence, and all she could do was angrily punch a hole in a nearby brick wall. As Sienna Khan lowered her head and released a heavy sigh, she cursed herself for not getting there sooner. While her and Abby's superior hearing had been able to faintly make out what Gron and the Covenant were saying to each other, they were still in the process of vaulting the piles of rubble so they could move in to engage when Gron made his final, spiteful act.

Releasing a sigh, Dare spoke up and said, "During the early years of the war, many of our soldiers and commanders made that exact same mistake. They believed that, like any other war, the Covenant would take prisoners. We learned the hard way that they don't, that this wasn't like any other war."

Dare shook her head, then added, "At least he took the bastards out with him. Most don't get that privilege."

The group was silent for a long, heavy moment. Then Sienna picked Gron's body up to cradle him in her arms. She locked eyes with Dare, and although no words were spoken, both women understood that they were done here.

Dare nodded at the White Fang's leader, then spoke into TEAMCOM, "Dare to Midsummer Night and Happy Huntresses. Traekke is KIA. Requesting immediate extraction."

[~][~]

Hello, everyone! Here is the latest chapter of Dust and Echoes, and Part 2 of the three-part Covenant Arc finale. Special thanks to NaanContributor and Jesse K for their help bringing this chapter to life.

A heavy, action-focused chapter this time around, and the end is fast approaching. Lots of really exciting things are going to come next chapter as the crew of the Midsummer Night try their best to accomplish their mission. Stay tuned for more.

To answer some questions:

Regarding the inclusion of elements from the Halo TV show, once again I understand it is controversial. But, frankly, I don't care if some of you didn't like it. I felt that there were things in it that I could use for my story. 99% of my story is based off the Gold timeline, with only a few choice things from the Silver timeline making it in. That is the last time I am going to discuss this.

I already have an ending in mind for my story. Same with all of my stories, really, and RWBY's canonical ending is not really a factor in it. It may influence my thinking, but it won't dictate it. Same with a lot of canon elements from both franchises. I have a story to tell and I'm going to tell it my way.

You guys will find out what the Beacon Arc will entail. A bit of a spoiler, but for the most part we'll be focusing on the Hell Month as that is fully original and not something that 90% of all RWBY stories as well as canon already covered. For example, you guys have seen initiation a thousand times already. There isn't much I can add, so it'll largely be glossed over.

Glad you guys liked the last chapter, as well as the Remnantians suffering their first casualties. Admittedly, Sepia and Thomas' deaths weren't that impactful since we hardly knew them, but that's one of the reasons why I had Harriet get so gravely injured. Particularly since she's a canon character so you guys wouldn't really expect that. Let Harriet's injuries be a reminder for you all that I am not afraid to critically injure or even kill canon characters in this story. I'm not going to do it all the time, but if the story requires their deaths or getting injured, I'll will gladly do so.

And yes, Gron was finally shown the truth that the Covenant will not care about any superficial differences between humans and faunus. At least he went out on his own terms. Not necessarily a Death Equals Redemption scenario as he hadn't gone that far. After all, Gron was meant to be the proto-Adam Taurus, showing where a lot of the extremetism sprang from but still a better person than Adam ever was. In actuality, he's originally planned death was far, far from the noble death he ended up getting. Originally, he was going to kill those UNSC soldiers himself before surrendering in an attempt to prove that he, a faunus, was not with humans, which would've pissed the Elite Major off so much that he would grab a tossed human pistol and shoot Gron in the head with it. If you know anything about Covenant Sangheili, you would know just how angry that Elite would be to even consider using a human weapon. But, during the writing/planning process, we couldn't get that sequence of events to make sense, so we instead went with the final version.

But, in any case, his death has served its intended narrative purpose. Sienna now knows, without a shred of doubt, what the Covenant's views are towards the faunus, and you can be sure she'll spread that knowledge to the rest of Remnant.

Yes, up next (following the Covenant Arc Epilogue which will come after a story rotation on my end - we're not doing it back to back, with D&E probably getting skipped so that my stories can get some love again) is the Integration Arc. Unlike the First Contact or Covenant Arcs, the Integration Arc will involve a series of loosely connected chapters with a lot of time skips, each one focusing on a different topic as the UNSC and Remnant assist each other in the war against the Covenant. Don't expect a lot of action in this arc. Instead it'll be a lot of world building.

Regarding Huntsmen versus Spartans, both are the epitome of their respective franchises' warriors. But they have different focuses and strengths/weaknesses. Given how Blue Team versus Haki was the first time they had ever encountered someone with outright superpowers before, it was very logical that they would get their asses kicked. But, as we saw, once they recovered they, as a team, took her down. Point is, if you put a Huntsman and a single Spartan in direct one-on-one combat, the Huntsman will tear the Spartan apart because that is the type of combat they were trained to do. A Spartan, meanwhile, would probably try to get as far away from a Huntsman as possible before calling in artillery or taking them out from afar. But at the same time, this isn't a story about Spartans versus Huntsmen in a "who is better" contest. This is a story where Spartans and Huntsmen team up to kick Covenant ass, so really the Haki Felt fight was just an obligatory fight that needed to get out of the way to fulfill audience expectations. I still liked it and it did serve the narrative, but Doylistically that was the reason for its inclusion.

Regarding the use of the word "fascism" by a Remantian, that is such a minor nitpick that it isn't really worth getting into a tizzy over. Stories do it all the time, otherwise you'd have to ask why the Covenant are calling things "stars" or "moons" as those are human terms. We are a human audience so writers use terms that people can easily understand.

I will not make a Reaction Story, but if someone wants to make a reaction story for D&E I welcome it so long as you ask for permission first. Also, once again, I do not take suggestions for my stories nor stories I should write.

That's it for now. Let us know what you guys think. If any of you have a TV Tropes account, any assistance in updating the TV Tropes page would be greatly appreciated. We hope you enjoy and see you all next time!