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  • Subject: Halo Fanfic: The End of a War
Subject: Halo Fanfic: The End of a War
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I remember when I was but a young lass, and had the same problem with bad luck. The solution actually happens to be quite simple. It involves an ancient ritual involving the aligning of the planets causing cosmic energy to flow through your aura to bring you enlightenment. All you need to complete this ritual is an astronomical calendar, some duct tape, a spoon, and a small rodent. PM me if you're interested.

  • 10.18.2005 4:56 PM PDT
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Cant wait for the chapter, good luck clarck, or as we say in the theatre world, Break a leg, that doesnt really make sense but to us wierd theatre kids good luck = bad luck so we say break a leg....
anyways I know the next chapter will be awesome no matter what. Keep it up!

  • 10.18.2005 10:28 PM PDT

Phoenix is dead, long live Phoenix!
Is it?

Mr_C comes online to make us stop fealing sorry for him, and it causes us to post more posts that say we're sorry for him. I know we all are sorry for his bad luck, and we all admire him for his dedication, but do we need to dwell on it?

on another topic, cant wait for the next chapter, I know it will be awsome "no matter what" the tension is killing me. keep up the excellent work.

[Edited on 10/19/2005]

  • 10.19.2005 2:25 AM PDT
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Well I'm a few hours late, but its out right? Heh heh.

Soulguard I think you posted my exact thoughts lol. "Bane of my existence", that sounds about right.

Kokiri, thanks for the info. I've got some publishers in mind though, and after my latest setbacks, it's gonna be awhile before I can start thinking about bringing them around to publishers again. As for throwing my stuff on RvB, you can go right ahead, lol. I'm really bad about posting on other sites, too much effort. So if you feel up to task, go right ahead.

As for using my pitifulness to gather comforts from girls, I suppose that works. My ability to pretty much appear to be completely helpless will bring forth their maternal instincts. Then again with my luck it'll all backfire and I'll be killed by jealous boyfriends.

Hmm, well I suppose it's now time for the main event. This is the biggest chapter yet, weighing in at an amazing 23,000 words. I weep for you guys that have to read it. Its loooooooooong. I'm exhausted right now, and since I'm at Konoka's place highjacking her laptop once again, I'm gonna do the PM's tomorrow morning, lest I collapse here and her mom starts thinking odd thoughts about why I'm always over.

Gah, here goes!

Author’s Notes: I went on a little bit of a binge with this chapter. Originally it was going to be more than triple the length that it is now, but I had trouble outlining how everything would work out, so I scrapped that idea and cut it more or less down the middle.

Plus with this new shorter chapter I’ll be able to add a little bit more suspense for the next chapter, as well as give you all plenty to wonder about until I can get the next chapter ready.

A side note on the use of the terminology last chapter with the nukes. Yes, I was mistaken when I first put it in, but my knowledge on nuclear weapons is small, so I just threw in the one term I knew and figured I’d just fix it when I was doing the edit. Of course per my usual methods, I completely forgot about it. It is reassuring to know though, that you guys are ready and waiting to point out any error I make. Helps keep me on my toes.

The End of a War

Chapter 22

A Hero Lost…?



The Attrition billowed through the slipstream as it hurtled through space towards it’s destination.

“The location of the facility is actually quite close. This ship seems to have been built with a restructured Slip Space drive, so my estimate on our arrival should be in less than twenty hours,” Cortana said through the cockpit’s internal communications network.

“All right,” John replied, his voice sounding tired to his own ears.

“Something the matter?” Cortana asked absently. Without responding John climbed from his seat and started out of the cockpit.

“I think I’ll go get some rest in the back,” was his reply. He slid the door leading out of the cockpit open, and moved outside, but not before Cortana called back to him.

“Are you sure this is what we should be doing?”

His feet seemed glued to the deck floor, as Cortana’s seemingly innocent question slammed through his chest and made his head swim.

Should we be doing this? I was released from duty on Earth because I was ordered by the UNSC to oversee the Arbiter’s return to his home planet. Now that this has been accomplished, shouldn’t I return to Earth, and prepare for the return of the Covenant?

A disgruntled sound emerged from John’s voice, and he continued down the hallway, passing through a side door that led into the crew quarters. An uncomfortable silence filled the room as he stared at the line of bunks.

Truthfully he was quite tired; John couldn’t remember the last opportunity he had to get some sleep. The stimulants that his MJOLNIR battle suit continuously injected him with had managed to keep him going for the entirety of the trip to the Elite home world.

Hesitantly the Spartan walked across the deck towards one of the twenty-odd bunks lining the room. Powering down his shields, he fell upon one of the bunks, ignoring the groan of the metal as it was tested beneath his weight. He would have normally removed his armor, but it was an arduous process and he really didn’t want to take it off. There was no telling what might be lurking at the end of their jaunt to this other system, and he didn’t want to be caught unaware.

The six toned message seemed to be playing constantly in his mind, taunting him with memories, none of them very pleasant. Words came easy to his mind, those that he had wished to tell Cortana, but he never had been very good at opening up to others.

Linda…Fred…Will…they’re going to be lucky if they can survive their injuries. If…if they don’t make it, Kelly is all I’ll have left. Whatever reason she had by sending that message, then she must need me, and I can’t willingly abandon her, not when I’ve already lost so many of them.

If he slept now, John was certain he’d be plagued by dreams of his past. His Spartans frequented his dreams often, one of the few moments in these dark days when he could see them. Sometimes he was given a chance to apologize for failing them as their leader. In other dreams they were taken from him too quickly, murdered before his eyes as he stared helplessly.

Sleep was the last thing John wished to do, but sleep he did.

-----------------------------------

“Our fleet is underway Arbiter,” the navigations officer announced from his position located alongside the western wall of the bridge, where the officer was given the chance to observe the many different terminals and controls necessary to operate Honor Without Mercy’s prominent display of navigation equipment.

“Understood,” Aonlum replied, his voice weary.

Departing our home world, prepared for war, yet never shall we be ready for the horrid truths of the coming battle.

The Covenant possess two of the remaining Forerunner ships, both of which are vastly superior to the hundreds of carriers under my command. Even without those ships we would already be outnumbered by the Covenant ships, if ‘Eranumee’s observations are correct.

We shall charge headlong into this battle, preparing ourselves for victory, but I cannot see the likelihood of that outcome.


“I wonder how much of this brooding is because of the Demon’s departure?” Aonlum mused aloud.

“Arbiter?” one of the crewmen nearby questioned. Aonlum waved his concern aside with a dismissive gesture.

I had hoped to give the Demon a chance to observe my old self at the helm of a fleet, ordering ships about with a command that I once possessed. Under the guise of the Arbiter however, I feel like a fraud. This armor belongs to one who has not stained himself with innocent blood.

I…I am drowning in it.


-----------------------------------

John awoke with a start, his eyes snapping open as his body shot forward, his head nearly slamming into the upper portion of the bunk. Almost frantically he took in the surroundings, his breath labored as he slowly calmed down.

A dream…it was just a dream.

It hadn’t been long before sleep claimed him, and almost immediately the dreams came to him, showing him images of the past he had burrowed deep within his subconscious. The images were scattered and fading already as he settled his feet to the deck, his head bowed beneath the weight of his memories.

He had been nothing more than a child, running across grassy fields on a hillside he knew was that of his home. Childish indiscretion filled him as he let the grass flow beneath his feet and he laughed as the wind pushed his hair about.

Somewhere a voice called to him. Sweet, melodic, the voice was so beautiful to his ears that he had turned to run towards it without a second thought.

His mother, a woman of whom no other memories remained aside from her profile, and the wondrous smell of the light perfume she used to wear. It was welcoming, loving; something that said he was home, and he would never be alone again.

He ran to her and tears fell down his face as she embraced him, lifting his small body into her arms as if he were weightless, spinning him about as she said his name.

The joy was soon torn away from him, as the grassy hill quickly became disfigured, the wind no longer blowing, and his mother’s arms no longer welcoming. Her voice changed and he realized that his mother was no longer there, and in her place stood a being he had never seen before.

It’s body was draped in flowing robes covered with ancient writings that were stained with blood. The creature’s face was twisted, contorted almost as if something had possessed it. It looked reminiscent of the horror-filled faces of those consumed by the Flood.

“Come with me, Sinner.”

The words weren’t spoken in any language John had ever heard before, but he understood them nonetheless. A second voice within his mind spoke them in translated form. His child form twisted in the creatures grip, raw fear driving his struggles as he desperately tried to search for his mother’s welcoming arms.

The creature’s grip loosened and John fell to the now barren ground. His legs began running away from the creature, carrying him anywhere but near the horrifying thing. Before he could run for any great distance, the ground opened up beneath him, and John felt himself begin to fall into the endless void of darkness.

Something grasped onto his wrist, and John looked up, joy once more returning to him as his mother clutched onto his arm. She held onto him with a strength John had never suspected her to possess.

“My child…”

  • 10.19.2005 3:03 AM PDT
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The creature from before appeared above them. Without time to warn his mother, the creature slammed it’s arm through her back, ripping through the flesh and protruding out her chest.

John screamed as his mother choked, blood streaming from the wound in her chest. With a sickening sound, the creature tore it’s arm free, disappearing without a word. Despite the wound in her chest, John’s mother continued to cling to his arm, keeping him from falling into the darkness.

“John…”

Her voice was no longer as welcoming as before, and John saw that tears now rolled down her face, mixing with the blood dripping from her mouth. He winced as the blood fell to his face, splashing against his cheek.

“Why did you abandon me?”

The tears were more intense as John had stared at his mother in confusion, her voice was pained and she cried. Hearing his mother cry was more painful than anything he could imagine, and he had shaken free of her grasp and fallen into the darkness, the image of his mother’s tear and blood-soaked face staying with him as the darkness swarmed around him.

Hands grabbed at him from places he could not see, and they began to pull at him, trying to tear him apart.

As he screamed, the creature once again appeared before him, it’s body no longer shroud in robes. Powerful muscle packed against the creature’s body, and it stared down at him with condensation.

“Pain and death. Abandonment and sorrow. What can you protect, Sinner? Who can you save?”

That had been the moment he had awoken. It was no wonder he had been so frightened, as the dream had been unlike anything he’d experienced before.

John got to his feet, but not before noticing with surprise that his hands had been gripping the edge of the bunk as he relived his dream. The metal was twisted and crushed.

“I see we’re awake now huh?” Cortana’s voice filtered down through the cabin.

“How long was I out?” John asked as he collected his bearings.

“The entire trip,” Cortana responded, annoyance touching her tone. “I had to talk to myself the whole way.”

Nineteen hours? I don’t think I’ve ever slept that long outside of cryo sleep, John thought with surprise.

“Have you found the point of origin as to where that message came from?” John asked, ignoring Cortana’s rebuke.

“Of course,” the A.I responded. “If you can make it to the bridge without taking another nap, I can bring us in for a landing run on the station.”

Without replying John walked quickly from the room and made his way to the bridge. Cortana was waiting on the small pedestal between the pilot and copilot seats. Her holographic arms were crossed over her chest and she looked at the Master Chief in bemusement.

“If you’ll draw your attention to outside the cockpit,” Cortana said, indicating out past the pilot seats. John stepped past her and leaned forward, his eyes settling on the looming station in front of their ship.

“Are there any signs of life?” John asked as he returned his attention to Cortana.

“I can’t say for sure,” Cortana said. “I ran a heat signature check however, and there was a very faint detection inside the eastern docking bay. So either a ship was in there within the past day or so, or I’m reading the Covenant computers wrong.”

She leveled him a glare and smirked.

“I don’t think I have to tell you which one is more likely.”

“Yeah,” John responded absently. “Can you bring us into the same docking bay? Will this ship fit?”

“Of course,” Cortana replied. “Would you like to have the honors?”

“You do it.”

Cortana seemed to pick up on John’s sour mood, for she started the Attrition forward without another word.

John watched the looming station grow closer, but all his eyes could see was the face of the woman in his dream, drenched in blood as she clung to his arm.

-----------------------------------

Mindful of the stares that seemed to follow her as she walked down the large corridor inside the medical bay, Jan hurried along her pace so as not to withstand some of the stares from the crew members.

She came to a stop at the northeast wing of the bay below a long corrugated ladder. Glancing about shortly, she begun to ascend upwards.

“What’s going on?” Jan asked as she climbed through the upper port hole that granted access to the crew quarters for those recovering from surgery aboard the Lewis Puller. “I thought this was going to be our last stop.”

Sergeant Johnson was seated near the port hole on a single mattress cot, flexing his artificial arm with interest.

“Nobody’s home,” Johnson replied. “Captain Keyes was just in here and she said the bridge crew picked up hundreds of heat signatures, more than likely from a fleet of ships that just tore out of here through Slip Space. Looks like the Elites didn’t want to sit around and wait for the Covenant to come get them, and instead they’re heading out to take the Covies head-on.”

“Do we know where they went?”

Johnson shrugged.

“Maybe, Captain Keyes said the ship A.I ran a simulation based on the way the ships were facing, and the probable coordinates Keyes fed it from that data crystal Admiral Hood gave her, the Elites most likely took off to the Covenant home world. Danron or some weird -blam!- like that.”

“So we’re going after them?”

“Not much else we can do is there? I sure as hell don’t feel like sitting around and waiting for the fighting to be over.”

“Do you think the Master Chief went with them?” Jan asked, her voice quiet. Johnson looked at her in concern for a moment before getting to his feet.

“On your feet, little missy,” the UNSC soldier ordered. Jan glanced up at him incomprehensively before he reached down and picked her up off the deck.

“You really want to tell me your arms are fine without casts, then you gotta show me.”

“What do you mean?” Jan asked as Johnson started to climb down the porthole.

“Follow me,” he said with a vicious grin. “We’re going to have some fun.”

The sergeant disappeared down the hole, and Jan was left alone. After a long pause she sighed and slowly started to follow after him.

-----------------------------------

The Attrition set down effortlessly beside the small ship inside the docking bay. Inside the cockpit, Cortana locked the ship down and John slid his hand over the pedestal, slipping Cortana into his MJOLNIR armor. He left the cockpit and made his way to the rear of the ship where the lower plank had extended, giving him an exit from the ship.

John carried with him an M6C handgun, as well as two Plasma Rifles that the Arbiter had given him when they parted ways on Silone. The Elite had said that he expected the Spartan to return the weapons the next time they met, a gesture John had found amusing at the time.

“Is that the same ship…?” John asked Cortana as he walked around the Attrition and came to a stop in front of the other ship occupying the docking bay.

“It’s the same design as the ship Dr. Halsey and Spartan -087 left in,” Cortana responded. “Unless I was inside I won’t know for sure.”

“Its not important.”

From the docking bay floor, John next came a stop by a large collection of shell casings that were littered near a door. Several meters ahead of the shell casings, John’s gaze settled on the large blood splatters that were as familiar to him as the empty casings.

“Looks like the Flood are here as well,” Cortana said.

“We should probably hurry then,” John said as he came back to his feet and moved for the nearby doorway. As he neared, the door slid open before he had a chance to access the panel next to it.

“I guess we’re being given access,” Cortana stated as John moved into the corridor. As he reached the end, the door opened much in the same manner as the previous one, before he had a chance to access the panel.

This continued for several more corridors and walkways, and John had noticed that the path opening up to them was also coupled with more shell casings and the remains of destroyed Flood infectious forms.

He came to a stop in front of the lone door in the following hallway, and was surprised to see that the door stayed shut as he approached. His hand moved towards the access panel and he had just flipped it open when the door slid open.

  • 10.19.2005 3:04 AM PDT
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The moment the door parted, John came face to face with the muzzle-end of a handgun. His hand that had been heading for the access panel blurred into motion as he slammed the pistol against the door frame, and quickly pushed himself into the room ramming into the person that had stuck the handgun against his face. He was surprised when his momentum was checked before he could knock the figure to the ground, and found himself flipped over and around, skidding across the ground until he slammed into the distant wall of the room.

“You always were big on making grand entrances,” Cortana muttered inside his helmet. John prepared a rebuke when a gloved hand was thrust in front of him. He grasped the hand with his own and was pulled to his feet. This time he came face to face with Spartan -087, Kelly.

As Kelly gave him the ‘smile’ gesture across her helmet, John had the mental image of when they were eight years old and training hand-to-hand combat with CPO Mendez and the other trainers. Kelly and John were paired up together, and Kelly had pulled that same maneuver on him when he tried to bum-rush her into the ground, thinking the girls smaller size would make it easy for him to overpower her.

John returned the gesture and he looked past his fellow Spartan to see the aged woman standing a few feet back.

“Hello John, it’s good to see you again,” Dr. Catherine Halsey said with a demure smile.

“Ma’am,” John replied.

“I suppose you got our message. I apologize for the lack of details, but we had limited means of communicating with you and I was certain Cortana would be with you. She is with you right?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Cortana said through John’s outboard speakers.

“Good,” Halsey said with a smile. “I’d like the two of you to meet Fasul.”

Following the direction Halsey indicated, John turned and looked at the shrouded figure in the shadows of the room. With slow steps the figure immerged, and John was taken aback slightly as the creature removed the hood that covered its head.

“Your helmet,” the creature said, his voice deep. “Remove your helmet.”

John looked over at Dr. Halsey for direction, and as she motioned for him to do so, John released the locks holding the armor in place, and slowly pulled the helmet off.

A wistful look passed over the creature’s face, and it looked away for a moment.

“Thank you,” Fasul spoke. “I apologize for being unable to embrace you, but I am but a hologram, and as such physical responses are something I’ve yet to conquer.”

“You’re a Forerunner,” John said, a statement not a question. Fasul turned back to face him the look of slight amusement remaining.

“I suppose you could make that assumption. I am not a Forerunner in true form, and I can only hope I never have to experience the truth that comes with making the transformation. ’Forerunner’ is a word that was created by the race my kind fought against. We were the race that developed the Halo Installations, and after we exhausted all other options, we became the race responsible for the eradication of all life in the universe.”

“Transformation?” John asked. Fasul nodded almost unnoticeably.

“Yes, be patient Reclaimer, I will tell you everything shortly. First I would ask that you look at the item your friends came to this station to retrieve.”

Fasul disappeared before their eyes and reappeared at the other end of the room. He made a sweeping gesture with his hand and a large panel along the length of the wall opened.

“This is the raiment of the First Reclaimer. A class twelve battle suit designed by my race to be used against the Half Breed threat. This armor was never intended to be used by my own people, but instead it was created for our savior. A human by the name of Cyriacus.”

John felt captivated by the suit of arms before him. The armor looked smaller than his own MJOLNIR battle armor, but appeared to be immeasurably powerful. It’s pure ivory color seemed as if it had never been touched before.

“Judging by the look of the armor you and the other share, I can see that you humans have retained some of the knowledge we imparted upon you,” Fasul said. “I imagine that you have undergone extensive gene manipulation as well in order for you to control that armor.”

“Yes,” Dr. Halsey answered. “We learned soon enough after designing the MJOLNIR armor that average humans, no matter how well trained, would be unable to wear the suit without sustaining life threatening injuries the moment they tried to move.”

“How unfortunate for those that were forced to be used as test subjects,” Fasul commented, and John could pick out the distaste that touched his tone.

“The augmentation process was even more trying on the subjects,” Dr. Halsey responded, her tone hard.

“Describe it for me,” Fasul said. “How exactly did the humans decide to enhance themselves?”

Halsey paused for a moment as she collected herself.

“The process was five-fold, each step ensuring that at least some of the subjects would die. The first step involved carbide ceramic ossification; basically grafting advanced material onto the skeletal structure of the subject, which resulted in having bones that were virtually indestructible.

“The second step was the use of muscular enhancement injections, which consisted of a protein complex that helped reduce lactase recovery time, and increase the tissue density, further hardening the body. Next we administered a catalytic thyroid implant. Using a small platinum pellet filled with a human growth hormone, we were able to boost growth of the skeletal and muscle tissues. Increasing the subjects vision was done so with a occipital capillary reversal. The final step involved super-conducting fabrication of the neural dendrites, and this allowed for a three hundred percent increase in the subject’s reflex time. In some cases other attributes were affected as well but it was sporadic throughout implementation.”

“Interesting,” Fasul mused. “That is an interesting start to the augmentation process.”

“Start?” John echoed. The hologram turned and smiled at him without feeling.

“I’m sure with your introduction to the different monitors on the Halo Installations, you’ll have learned that the battle suit you currently operate is perhaps one sixth the power designed in the armor that currently lies in front of you. To operate it you would need extensive training and physical augmentation just to simply survive the process of synching with the armor.”

“By synching, I refer to the advanced neural interface designed with the Reclaimer armor,” Fasul continued. “The armor itself is a conduit for your mind, and superficial thoughts translate into physical action. This allowed for vastly improved speed while fighting, and when the Reclaimers fought with the Half Breeds, they needed every last essence of it.”

Dr. Halsey stepped forward and ran a slender hand down the lower leg of the armor.

“I originally intended to have Kelly use this armor,” Halsey admitted. “We found documents on the first Halo Installation that alluded to battle armor designed by the Forerunner to combat the Flood. We couldn’t locate it, but after we raided a rogue ONI officer’s headquarters, Kelly came across some reports that spoke of a facility located in this star system that might house the armor. The concern this rogue officer had was surpassing the Forerunner security that might have been put in place. Because of this I had Kelly infiltrate one of the Halo Installations and retrieve a monitor.”

“And you did so in a most unpleasant manner,” the floating monitor said for the first time, surprising John by it’s sudden appearance.

“The floating bastard had me running around the entire ring world just to track him down. I figured using a little ‘extra‘ force to get him cooperative was warranted,” Kelly’s voice came through the interior speaker network of his battle suit. She had spoken to him through the private com linkup set within all MJOLNIR suits. It should have been impossible for anyone aside from the two Spartans and Cortana to hear it, but Fasul surprised them when he turned and smiled lightly at them both.

“I suppose I should have realized the Reclaimer suit wouldn’t be compatible without another set of augmentations,” Halsey said. “Do you happen to know where we might find a facility capable of administering them?”

“You are in one,” Fasul responded. “This was the station in which the First Reclaimer was born.”

“Then if you’re still willing, Kelly, we can do this now,” Dr. Halsey said to the Spartan.

“I’ll do it,” John said, cutting the other Spartan off, and turning to look at Fasul. “I’d imagine this augmentation process will prove to be as dangerous as the first time?”

“That is correct,” Fasul nodded.

“I’m a big girl, Chief, I don’t need you holding my hand,” Kelly said through the private com.

“I’m not letting you take that risk,” John shot back. “I’m the team leader. ‘First one in, last one out’, and you know that.”

“If I may interject?” Fasul said, obviously overhearing the two Spartan’s conversation. “The armor here was designed for a male specifically, and as such a female would be incapable of wearing it. I apologize, but this ‘Master Chief’ is the only one equipped to handle it.”

The Forerunner A.I disappeared once more and appeared in the center of the oval room, and with a wave of his hand, the floor opened up and a large medical table appeared.

“Since you have decided to go through with this, I’ll have to ask you to remove the suit you are currently wearing,” Fasul said.

  • 10.19.2005 3:06 AM PDT
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“Aren’t you at least slightly curious as to why Dr. Halsey wants to get one of you into that armor?” Cortana asked him quickly.

“If it makes me a better soldier, then that’s reason enough for me,” John replied. He looked to Dr. Halsey and Kelly, holding him arms aside to show his need for assistance.

“You’re too trusting for your own good,” Cortana replied, a moment before she slipped free of his suit and into the small data tablet that Dr. Halsey had extended over the Spartan’s hand.

“If you would like, John, I will explain to you some of the history that led to the activation of the Halo’s,” Fasul said. “The preparations are long, and I sense that time is of the essence.”

“All right,” John replied as Dr. Halsey and Kelly set to work removing the MJOLNIR battle suit.

“There is one thing I’ve been wondering,” Halsey said as she slowly eased some of the locks off of John’s chest piece. “When exactly did the Forerunner first exist? Do you have a time frame or something I could use?”

“Time was of little importance to our race,” Fasul replied. “We measured by life and death, known merely as the time of when our ancestors were born of this existence. The scientists amongst our race deigned time periods to be existing in concordance with the supposed ‘creation’ of our people, but this was never accepted by many.”

“You said that ‘Forerunner’ was a term derived from the race that eventually led to the activation of the Halo’s,” John said as his helmet was lifted away from under the crook of his arm. “What was the real name for your people?”

Fasul hesitated momentarily, a look of indecision upon him.

“Majal,” Fasul said, and a smile formed on his lips. “It has been so very long since I last said that name.”

“When I say that time was not important, this did not mean we didn’t attribute a sense of reverence and honor to the life of the planets we existed upon, nor the life cycle of our own race. Merely we felt that time as a whole could not be measured based upon our race, and to do so is arrogant and trivial. However, creatures of science are not concerned with such things, and that is how the first act of time precedence appeared in our history.”

The lower sections of the MJOLNIR armor came away and John stood, naked as Fasul motioned for him to move towards the medical table he stood beside. Once John was in place, lying horizontal along the table, the A.I continued his speech.

“Some thousands of years after our ‘creation’ according to our scientific community, a fleet of vessels intending to observe a fledgling planet in a distant star system discovered a form of life we had yet to encounter in our many years of existence. It was found in a hollow chasm beneath a tidal embankment, and as such it was when the life form was first given the name, ‘Flood’. For shortly after we discovered it, the chasm collapsed and the river above filled the once empty crypt.”

“It was theorized at one time,” Fasul continued. “That the Flood were locked away in that chasm by the remnants of the society that once dwelled on the planet we discovered them on. Indeed there were signs of a civilization, but there were no other living creatures aside from the Flood. Whether this civilization fled the planet at one point, perhaps migrating to another world, or even if they were consumed and destroyed by the Flood, we could not know at the time.”

Fasul activated a hidden set of commands and the room darkened slightly. John lost sight of Dr. Halsey and Kelly, who had been staring somewhat unabashedly at him as he was prepped for the augmentation process. The table came to life, and John felt himself become strapped to the table.

“A necessity,” Fasul said. “The augmentation process can be painful, and your body is powerful enough to do serious harm to itself when the changes begin.”

John nodded wordlessly as the table seemed to come to life. A long mechanical arm appeared, a small syringe near the highest point of the limb. His eyes followed it until the syringe stopped, poised a few inches from his neck. Fasul cleared his throat to gather John’s attention once more.

“As is tradition when discovering a new life form, the Flood were studied intently, and it was at this time we discovered they were nearly invulnerable to all forms of heat and cold. Even physical damages were of little effect on the small entities. It had a regenerative ability that we had never witnessed before. This discovery would eventually entail the destruction of our society, and spell the doom of the universe.”

“Then,” John began uncertainly, “the creatures that the Forerunner fought against weren’t the Flood, but another race entirely?”

Fasul shook his head remorsefully.

“No, it was not another race. The creatures with whom we fought were our brothers…our sisters…our families.”

Another bitter, humorless smile filtered onto Fasul’s face. His next words came at the same moment the syringe plunged downward into John’s neck, his consciousness almost instantly dimming.

“It was the Forerunner.”

---------------------------------

Aonlum felt his body beginning to show signs of fatigue as he watched the activity on the bridge. It had been countless hours since they last entered Slip Space, and he had not taken any time to rest, fearing that something may go wrong and he would not be in a position to respond immediately.

“How much longer until we reach our destination?” Aonlum asked the navigation officer, a Sangheili that was operating the station with two Unggoy.

“Not much longer, Arbiter. I will get a definitive answer in a few moments,” the Sangheili responded.

“Good,” Aonlum said, he raised his voice so that the others on the bridge would hear him. “Open up a visual connection with the other ships, I wish to address our forces before we enter this battle.”

“At once, Arbiter!” many of the bridge hands shouted in response.

Addressing the troops before battle, Aonlum mused. I have done this countless times in the past, but now I just may finally do it for the last time. Will my life be claimed in this battle? Shall the Covenant steal the honor from the humans and send me into the afterlife?

“The visual connection has been established Arbiter,” an officer announced. “You may begin at any time.”

Aonlum quickly got to his feet and stared ahead, aware that his stature had very much to do with whatever impact this speech would have on his forces. His hands settled behind his back, and he pursed his mandibles slightly, looking as if he could see the faces of the thousands of soldiers he was now addressing.

“Our enemy is one we fought alongside for eons. They were at one time our brothers, but now they are our most hated foe, creatures with whom we shall devote our existence to destroying.

“This battle we are about to partake in will not be the last fight of this war. No, there will be more bloodshed after this day. We are creatures of habit, and as our enemy still exists, even on the furthest plane of existence, it will be our duty to hunt them down and destroy them. Mercy and thoughtfulness have no place on this battlefield, and should you believe it wrong, take to heart the fact that were your positions reversed, your enemy would give you no quarter.

“For many years I did stand with you all, while we served as the vanguard of the Covenant. Now as I stand here, I am made to be your leader. The one that all eyes will go to in our moment of need. There is apprehension within me, for I know that this task given to me is one that will take all of my power to uphold in the face of a superior army.

“I weep for those of you that will not live through this day. You will have made the ultimate sacrifice for your people, and for honor. We have a great burden upon our shoulders, for we must repent for our crimes of the past, and by eliminating this heathenness army we shall come one step closer to redeeming ourselves.

“Those that perish I ask of you, as you are lying upon the ground, feeling the remnants of your life slip away, please do a service and pray for your loved ones back home, and for your brothers that still battle our enemy. With your death the enemy comes one step closer to our home world. Do not let this follow you into the dark however, know that your passing will be marked by our voices, crying out into this endless void of space. For your sacrifice will give us the courage to meet our foe with unyielding fury. We shall weep for you once this battle is over. We will hang our heads as your families do mourn your passing, but our hearts will be proud…proud to have served with a warrior that was willing to trade his life for the safety of his planet.

“I know not what awaits you on the other side, but as you pass through the gates of the dead, I shall ask one more thing of you. Raise your head high, and meet the gaze of whomever you encounter. Let no one denounce your sacrifice, and no matter how much time passes, know that there shall always be one who remembers each and every name of those that died in this battle.

“Now go, my brothers. Go and fight. Fight for the planet we have left, fight for those that we protect. Shake this very universe to its core with our fury, and never let the enemy see you stumble.”

The Arbiter kept his pose stoic, even as the transmission faded, signaling that the troops inside the ships could no longer see him.

My words were full of hope, but what hope is there for us? Perhaps death is all that awaits me on the other side.

I suppose an incompetent death is all that I deserve.

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“Arbiter, we will be exiting Slip Space shortly,” the navigator announced. The Arbiter nodded his head and placed his palms upon the terminal in front of him.

“Are our coordinates matched up? I do not wish for our forces to be scattered about the galaxy,” Aonlum replied.

“Yes sir, everything is synched.”

Breathing deeply, Aonlum closed his eyes for a long moment before opening them.

“When I give the word, unleash Hell.”

---------------------------------

Canderus, leader of the Jiralhanae forces stationed at Danrun (thus making him the superior commander for all Covenant forces after the extradition of the Sangheili), was currently seated upon the officer’s chair aboard the Order and Faith (one of the remaining Forerunner ships). He was watching morosely as the Covenant fleet sent wave after wave of plasma cannon shots at the fledgling ships that remained at the far end of the planet above the sectors that housed the remaining Sangheili, Unggoy, and Lekgolo forces.

“This seems a terrible waste of assets, Your Holiness,” the Jiralhanae captain spoke. The aged Prophet seated next to him turned his wizened cranium to peer at Canderus beneath the drooping skin of his forehead.

“Nothing but the eradication of the entire heathenness fleet will please the Prophet of Law,” the Prophet of Serenity said, his voice rough, sounding much like a quarry of stones tumbling down a mountainside.

“Then why are we engaged in this artillery battle?” Canderus questioned. “We outnumber the enemy nearly twenty fold. Should we utilize the Forerunner vessels we could crush them without worrying of a single death.”

“Are you questioning my orders?” the Prophet of Serenity asked, his voice as calm as ever, but Canderus could detect the hidden undertone.

“Certainly not,” he replied, his tone bordering on sarcastic.

“Humph,” the Prophet said in response. “To even think of using the glorious vessels left to us by the Forerunners would be a slight upon their very being! Those creatures are not worthy of being sent into oblivion by our forefathers creations.”

Such idiotic mumblings from a creature with more power than could ever be conceived, Canderus thought to himself as he returned his attention to the battle.

Unlike the majority of his race, Canderus did not feel the Prophets deserved unending fealty that they demanded from all those subjugated by Covenant rule. His personal views were not withstanding in regards to his military career, as he had since a young age gravitated towards a career involving the miracle of space travel. The wondrous ships the Covenant possessed were enough of an incentive for him to bury his snide thoughts and at least keep up the appearance that he considered himself to be subservient to the Covenant regime.

The idea that the Forerunner were anything but an advanced civilization had never occurred to the Jiralhanae as he was integrated into the Covenant society. That the Prophets and Sangheili seemed to believe them to be their Gods, seemed incredulous to Canderus. The more he learnt the more certain he became, and when the discovery of the Parasite became well-known, he knew for sure that the truth was anything but the filth that the Prophets believed.

And now the Sangheili have been cast aside, along with the Lekgolo and Unggoy. Their innumerable years of service, rewarded with the call for their races to be eradicated.

I wonder how long it will take for the Prophets to decide we Jiralhanae will be of no more use to them? Will we be exterminated in this same manner?


“Sir! Ground units report that they have eliminated the majority of the heathen forces in the western sector. Small pockets of resistance are all that remain there,” a Jiralhanae informed them.

Canderus opened his mouth to reply but the Prophet of Serenity cut him off.

“Order the ground forces to crush them without pause,” the Prophet sneered, smirking to himself.

Canderus risked sending a seething glare at the Prophet before nodding at the Jiralhanae, showing his support for the order.

[/I]These are my troops, Prophet, open your mouth to order them around again and I will crush what little matter exists in that skull of yours.[/I]

With a grunt of displeasure, Canderus sunk back into his seat. Taking into consideration the Prophet’s proposed method of battle, this would prove to be a long war.

---------------------------------

The Attrition tore through Slip Space, the ship a serene spec in the infinitude of space. The ship had only recently left the Forerunner station a few hours previously.

Spartan -087 watched listlessly as the Master Chief, Spartan -117, slept on one of the bunks that had been designed for the Covenant Elites. She had been unnaturally silent since they had loaded the Master Chief onto the ship after the augmentation process had finished. The Forerunner A.I, Fasul, had stated that it would be almost a week before the Spartan would even regain consciousness.

After the initial procedure ended, Fasul explained that while the augmentations done to the Spartan’s body were greater than what he received previously, his life was at a considerably less risk of giving out during the recovery. The Majal had perfected the augmentation techniques thousands of years ago.

The Master Chief had not been forthcoming in information about the other remaining Spartans, and Kelly was forced to ask Cortana about their status. She was dismayed to hear that they were nearly killed during the Covenant assault on Earth, but the fact that they survived was testament to the invulnerability of the Spartans.

Invulnerable? Kelly asked herself. If that were true, we’d all still be together. Instead of being so far apart.

Pushing off the wall, Kelly closed the small distance between herself and the Master Chief, stopping to adjust the heavy blankets that had placed over him. She was bent over the Spartan at the precise moment the door slid open and Dr. Halsey walked in.

“Still sleeping I see,” the aged woman commented as she took a few hesitant steps forward. Kelly straightened up and remained standing as Dr. Halsey took a seat at the bunk beside the Spartans.

With considerable care, Dr. Halsey ran a hand over the somewhat messy hair of the Master Chief. The Spartans didn’t often get a chance to visit the military barbers to get their hair adjusted to the proper military length, so it was not surprising to see the Master Chief’s hair in such a state.

Kelly watched the doctor as she tended to John like a worried mother. Despite the biological differences, Dr. Halsey had served as a surrogate mother for the Spartans as they grew up. Even to this day, Kelly still found it hard to think of the older woman as a simulated G-7 in the UNSC military ranking structure. Kelly had long since forgotten her own parents, their faces nothing but distant memories buried within the countless battles she’d participated in.

“Do you think he’ll forgive me when I tell him of our mission?” Dr. Halsey asked softly.

“The Master Chief is a fine soldier Ma’am, he’ll understand,” Kelly replied, even though she herself had doubts of their mission’s true purpose.

“Yes, he is quite an amazing warrior isn’t he. I feel troubled though, knowing that he’s spent so much turmoil over the past few months trying to come to grips with what I last said to him,” Dr. Halsey explained. “Now we stand poised to repeat the same horrendous act from the past.”

“There’s a lot we have to do before that though isn’t there?” Kelly remarked.

“Yes,” Halsey nodded. “Speaking of that, I think our next destination may house what the documents at Ackerson’s facility were talking about.”

“Perhaps we should move to another room Ma’am, this room isn’t secure with Cortana, the Monitor, and that Forerunner aboard,” Kelly pointed out. Dr. Halsey nodded stiffly, and with one final stroke through the Master Chief’s hair, she stepped to her feet and slowly walked from the room, Kelly close behind.

The door slid shut as the Master Chief lay in a state of unconsciousness inside the infirmary. A flash of light was all that appeared when Fasul suddenly entered the room, appearing in the center of the room, his gaze fixated on the Spartan. He glanced back at the door Dr. Halsey and Kelly had exited out of, and with a sigh the ancient creature moved across the room to stand beside the Master Chief.

“You humans are so amazingly complex, even after such an incredibly long history.”

Fasul bent down and stared blatantly at the Master Chief’s face.

“I would have never imagined that I would run into a descendant of Cyriacus in such a place,” he said with a smile. “That you would bear the look of him as well is certainly surprising.”

“I am afraid I owe you an apology, Spartan. There are several items I kept from you and the others aboard. I suppose I am as much a coward as I was when I first met Cyriacus, and his beloved Chrysanthe.

“The genetic manipulations that you received aboard my station are not the simple upgrades to your current physical condition that you possess. Well, they are, but they contain something greater…something that will alter not just your body but your mind as well.”

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Fasul moved away from the Master Chief’s body and began to slowly pace around the room.

“Cyriacus was not simply the first Reclaimer, he was a brilliant tactician. The Half Breed’s possessed incredible wisdom and knowledge, all of which they absorbed whenever they would feed on a Flood-infected individual. This knowledge of there’s made it nearly impossible to stop them from learning of our plans. They knew our battle formations, and any type of weaponry we may have employed for use.

“Despite this, Cyriacus was never bested in combat. He defended entire planets, strategizing with our commanders and soldiers, ensuring there were no holes in our defense.”

Fasul smiled as his eyes seemed to look into the past.

“Yes, if it weren’t for him we would have surely lost the war to the Half-Breed’s much sooner than we did. He gave us hope, when all we had remaining were the solitary days of being murdered one by one as the Half-Breed’s consumed our worlds.”

Opening his eyes Fasul let his smile become strained slightly.

“From what I’ve heard from Catherine and Kelly it would seem you and him are both alike in those respects,” Fasul said, then chuckled slightly. “When I felt the tremors through the Halo network, and realized that one of the Installations had been destroyed, you can imagine my surprise when I learned it was a Reclaimer. A single Reclaimer even. Ingenuity seems to be your strong suit, something that Cyriacus also possessed.

“I had the honor of being acquainted with him personally, and I knew much of his character,” Fasul said, and he gazed down at the Spartan. “He seems to have been much like you, if what the others tell me is true. Perhaps the one crucial difference is that Cyriacus did not burry his emotions. No, he let them control him, and that made him a catalyst of sorts. It was this nature that inevitably led him to his death, but I shall not speak of such a thing here.”

Fasul bent his frame downwards until his head hovered slightly over John’s.

“Despite your unconscious state, I know that deep in the recess of your mind my words are being heard. This alone is the reason I am here, as I hope to explain the reasoning behind my decision.

“The Halo Installations communicate with one another on a constant basis. Telemetry data, security reports, and even artificial environment status are all sent to the many different facilities the Majal left behind. This station is unique in that I chose to create a copy of my mind and place it into this facility before we activated the Halo Installations. With that said, I have been given access to numerous data on the antics you humans have been apart of over these many years. The so-called Covenant as well have been brought to my attention, and I am surprised they became the universal terror that they are now.

“Before the activation of the Halo Installations that commenced the cleansing of the universe, the Majal tasked themselves with creating and maintaining facilities on nearly every planet we thought the Half Breeds might come to inhabit once they entered a dormant state. It was our intention to monitor their slumber, and be kept aware of their stasis and more importantly, the event of their awakening.”

Fasul reared back to his full height and began moving about the room once again.

“Near the end of the war, we received word that the Half-Breeds had learnt of the Halo Installations, and were constructing a counter to them. One of the main planets the Half-Breeds inhabited also happened to be under the most surveillance. We discovered that they were breeding a new creature, I believe they are now called ‘Prophets’ in that Covenant abomination.”

Fasul chuckled to himself lightly.

“To think they would give themselves such a name, when all they were intended to be were nothing more than servants for the Half-Breeds. We sacrificed many soldiers to retrieve specimens of these ‘Prophets’ and after interrogation and intense studying of their biological makeup, we learned of their secret.

“The ‘Prophets’ were an advanced Flood form. The Half-Breeds basically mutated the Flood DNA to the point where it bore only a small resemblance to the disgusting filth they once originated from. There were some differences; the Prophets were significantly weaker than the Half-Breeds, but stronger than the typical Flood forms. They also aged at a slow pace, but their regenerative abilities were minute. Perhaps the most important difference, is that the Prophets did not need to continuously feed in order to survive, unlike the Half-Breeds and the Flood. This, plus the invulnerability to the Halo weapons, essentially ensured the Prophets would continue to live even after the Halo Installations were fired.”

The A.I hologram stopped his pacing and shook his head.

“I’m getting terribly off track. I apologize.”

Fasul composed himself and took on a look of intense seriousness.

“The initial augmentations will do their task and bring your body to a state where it will be capable of using the Reclaimer suit without destroying yourself. An unfortunate side effect to possessing the armor used by a previous Reclaimer is that your mind will begin to change as well. Memories that Cyriacus experienced will soon merge with your own, and in time your own consciousness will recede, and Cyriacus’ will take root and come to control your body.

“I assure you this is not an act of ill will towards you. I am certain that you are a fine warrior, but the last transmission I received from the planet where the Half-Breeds sleep was quite troubling, and if what I fear is true, then this universe will need Cyriacus’ power to escape the fate it met more than one hundred thousand years ago.

“If you are strong enough however, maybe you will be able to overcome Cyriacus’ influence and remain in control, but whether that will come to pass or not, I cannot say.”

Fasul looked away momentarily, and he spoke as his eyes settled onto the wall beside the Master Chief’s body.

“The other side effect of being so suddenly thrown into the armor of the Reclaimer, is that the more you fight, the more the strain on your body becomes. We trained our Reclaimers from a very young age to be able to withstand the trials put before them when they became true Reclaimers, and I know that you have not. In short order, your body will begin to destroy itself from the inside. Your muscles will tear, your bones will shatter, and your organs will cease to function.”

Fasul finally let his gaze return to the Spartan.

“You will die.”

----------------------------------

“Sir! Slip Space whispers are being detected,” a Jiralhanae announced.

Canderus glanced towards the main display inside the bridge.

“Give me a visual on the intended vector,” the Commander ordered. He turned and glanced at the Prophet of Serenity. “This is likely to be the reinforcements for the Sangheili.”

The Prophet of Serenity scoffed indignantly and laughed.

“They can bring a thousand ships for all the good it will do them. Once we eliminate their pitiful forces on this planet, then we shall move to their home world and finish off their race once and for all.”

If they brought a thousand ships, perhaps we may engage in an actual battle, instead of this pathetic artillery exchange, Canderus mused to himself as the displays came to life. Looking closely at the empty space, he could see the telltale signs of a coming Slip Space tear.

“Order the fleet to prepare for counter attacks by the Sangheili fleet,” Canderus ordered. “It would not do to let the emergence of the other ships to distract us.”

“Yes sir,” the Jiralhanae responded.

I wonder what the Sangheili will do? Should they decide to simply emerge and link up with their forces, they will be resigning themselves to a slow death. If the commander of their fleet is smart, he will force us to split our own fleet into two to deal with them.

The sudden explosion of light on the displays signified the emergence of twelve Covenant cruisers from Slip Space. The ships had a few moments of lifelessness before they fired off an impressive salvo of Plasma Cannon fire at Canderus’ fleet.

“A bold move for such a small fleet,” Canderus mused as he heard the commanders of his ships order evasive actions.

“Twelve ships?” the Prophet of Serenity asked incredulously. “The heathens are foolish to even think of trying to fight against our forces with such a pathetic display of contempt for our might.”

I am growing tired of your ramblings, fool, Canderus thought as he ignored the Prophet.

“Dispatch twenty ships and pull into position zero-seven-five in relation to the new Sangheili fleet. The rest of our forces will continue to monitor the remaining ships above the Eastern sector,” Canderus informed the bridge.

Command is a lonely position, the Jiralhanae mused. I miss my early days when I commanded a single ship, and could exercise my skills with my own hand. Now I am forced to depend on my soldiers to do the jobs I dictate for them. I am nothing more than a strategist.

The Sangheili have disappointed me with this small show of force. I had hoped they would gather all of their forces and return to Danrun in an amazing display of solidarity, ready to tear the Covenant apart. It would seem they have sent these sacrificial lambs to be fodder while their main force retreats into the depths of the universe.


--------------------------------

“Arbiter! We’ve received a message from the scouts sent forward. The coordinates of the main Covenant fleet have been uploaded to the firing solutions for every ship in the fleet!” the navigation officer said, his tone showing his anticipation.

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“Excellent,” Aonlum replied. “Ensure the other ships wait the necessary time before we exit Slip Space. We need this to be coordinated flawlessly, or our risk might be all for nothing.”

The Sangheili officer nodded intently and returned to his station, ready to coordinate with the other ships.

Aonlum stood, tense in his musings as he watched the small countdown to when the fleet would emerge from Slip Space.

It was an incredible gamble. Sending a small scouting force out first, and having them pinpoint the main Covenant fleet’s positions. After the Covenant dispatched a small force to deal with the scouts, they would send the coordinates of the enemy fleet in a highly encoded message sporadically until they received acknowledgement that they had been received.

Sending messages of any form to a ship currently in the Slip Stream was highly irregular, and more often than not it resulted in the ship never receiving the message, and missing vital information. Aonlum had tried his best to stack the odds in their favor by having all twelve ships that initially emerged near Danrun to continuously send the message at microsecond intervals.

As he heard the acknowledgments from the other ships in the fleet, Aonlum realized the gamble had paid off, but next came an even bigger gamble, and if it succeeded, then it would yield an even greater pay off. It might even give their forces hope for winning this war.

------------------------------


Order and Faith had slowly moved away from the main Covenant fleet to observe the b-blam!- battle between the dispatched Covenant ships, and the Sangheili vessels that had appeared through Slip Space only moments previously.

Canderus had felt tired with watching the battles from afar, so he ignored the Prophet of Serenity’s objections and moved the Forerunner ship into a backup position with the Covenant ships as they began the slow but deadly process of outmaneuvering the Sangheili fleet.

It was his critical eye that allowed Canderus to catch the small hint of the terror that was about to befall the Covenant fleet. One of the displays had been directed in the wrong direction, and was placed viewing behind the Order and Faith, giving him a view of the large Covenant fleet floating more or less motionlessly above the Western bloc of Danrun. The small tremble of light that was appearing several thousands of miles behind the fleet was his first indication that something was wrong.

He received vindication for those thoughts a moment later, when a Slip Space tear larger than he had ever seen suddenly appeared in the space he had been studiously observing.

The shapes of hundreds of ships emerging was the only thing he could see initially, for it was only half a second before the entire emerging fleet suddenly fired off the largest salvo of weapons fire he had ever witnessed in his life. Even the process of cleansing the human planets had never looked like this.

Incredible. Using the small force as a diversion and then allowing the main force to arrive in nearly the opposite position in relation to the planet. Then launching an attack instantly upon there arrival in the system, Canderus thought to himself in amazement. But how did they know where out fleet would be positioned? Making a blind attack immediately out of a Slip Space emersion is incredibly dangerous, as you risk striking your own forces, or even worse a wayward planet.

The pulsing red plasma flames etched across the sky, screaming towards the Covenant fleet which had just begun to realize their impending doom, and were trying to activate evasive measures.

Of course! The lead ships were scouts, and their purpose was two-fold. Using themselves not only as a distraction for the main fleet, but also to pinpoint our fleets positions and give the coordinates to the ships still in transit inside the Slip Stream.

Canderus couldn’t help but grin over the amazing display of tactical brilliance. The Sangheili commander that had orchestrated this movement was a genius of military tact, as he had just caught Canderus and his fleet completely off guard.

“Order the main force to initiate evasive measures now!” Canderus shouted, surprising many of the Jiralhanae on the bridge who had not yet seen the emergence of the real Sangheili fleet. “Bring the ship about to coordinates seven-four-zero and prepare to fire on the enemy fleet at the other side of our ships.”

Beside Canderus, the Prophet of Serenity finally seemed to have noticed what was happening, at the precise moment the opening salvo of fire from the Sangheili fleet slammed into the main Covenant forces, which had become clustered together, thus making them easy targets.

“This is inconceivable!” the Prophet bellowed. “How could you let these heathens attack our mighty fleet?”

Canderus ignored the Prophet as he manually switched the displays to show him the damage the Sangheili fleet had incurred on the Covenant fleet.

Fifty? No, sixty cruisers were destroyed. Nearly a quarter of our forces destroyed in an instant. Incredible.

Canderus changed the view and twisted the display so he could see the Sangheili fleet that had just emerged, which was now moving into a defensive cluster, trading haphazard shots with the bulk of the Covenant fleet. His eyes settled onto one of the Sangheili ships, and he felt a smirk test the corners of his mouth.

“Open up a visual channel with the Sangheili ship, Honor Without Mercy. I wish to speak to it’s commander,” Canderus ordered. His eyes lingered on the other Forerunner vessel, Forgotten Legacy, which was now clumped between many Covenant cruisers that had formed a protective ring around it.

As if a Forerunner ship has anything to worry about from any show of force. The Prophet aboard that ship is wasting my assets, and endangering my soldiers.[/]

Canderus looked impatiently at the communications officer when he realized the linkup between the ships had not been established yet.

“Did I stutter?” Canderus asked, not unkindly. “Open a link with the Commander of the Sangheili fleet.”

The Prophet of Serenity seemed to be shocked into silence as he kept his aged eyes glued to the displays showing the destruction the Sangheili had inflicted. Canderus was simply pleased that the aged creature was no longer trying to order him around.

The central display on the bridge quickly came to life, and Canderus found himself looking at a Sangheili clad in ceremonial armor. It took him a moment to recognize it.

“Ah, an Arbiter. What an interesting surprise,” Canderus said.

“If you have come to ask for terms to your surrender,” the Arbiter replied, his voice deadly cold. “Then I shall tell you that there will be none.”

A short bark of a laugh escaped Canderus’ throat over the Arbiter’s display of bravado.

“I would not expect there to be one,” he replied. “I can tell this will surely be an interesting battle, I look forward to the outcome.”

“The outcome will be the destruction of the Covenant, and the revenge we Sangheili deserve for the murder you Jiralhanae conducted aboard High Charity.”

[I]He is an honest Sangheili,
Canderus thought. If the news of what he did on the other Sacred Ring are true, this is a warrior worthy of fighting.

“Tell me, Arbiter, did you kill Tartarus with your own hand?” Canderus asked, careful to keep his tone even.

The Arbiter looked slightly surprised that Canderus would have put the two together so quickly.

“Yes, he died by my hand. He believed in the falsehood of the Prophet’s lies, and he would not turn from that path. Because of that, I killed him.”

“I see,” Canderus replied. “Then we have both lost much in this new war. You have lost your soldiers, and I my own brother. When this battle is over with, I shall wish to test your strategies against my own. Perhaps there is not so much difference between our races as we might think.”

The surprise that flashed across the Arbiter’s face gave Canderus some amusement. As much as the Sangheili despised the Jiralhanae, the reverse was much worse. The Arbiter had likely never anticipated meeting a Jiralhanae that would not despise him for simply existing.

“The opening strike has gone to you, Arbiter, but I assure you that before this battle is over we shall find ourselves in similar positions.”

The transmission cut out quickly and Canderus got to his feet to work the stiffness from his legs.

“Why would you speak to such a creature?” the Prophet of Serenity demanded. “He is a traitor to the Great Journey, and one that must be destroyed at all costs.”

“Do not trouble yourself, Prophet,” Canderus replied. “He is a skilled warrior, but there exists no weapon in the Sangheili arsenal capable of defeating a Forerunner vessel. Regardless of his skill, the outcome of this battle has already been foreseen.”

---------------------------------

“What exactly is it you want me to do?” Jan asked.

Sergeant Johnson had led her on a long, winding trip throughout the Lewis Puller, which finally came to a stop in the Marine barracks.

“What I want you to do, and what your gonna do are two very different things,” Johnson said seriously as he slipped a combat knife from his boot into his hand and sliced open a shrink-wrapped fatigue vest. He flipped the vest open and checked the size.

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“Damn, I can never figure out what the stupid measurements are,” the soldier commented as he grabbed another shrink-wrapped package and repeated the slicing motion with his knife. As he fiddled with the clothing, Jan was somewhat blatantly gazing at the bionic arm that he now had in place.

“What does it feel like?” Jan asked suddenly. She turned away in embarrassment when Johnson looked at her in confusion. “That arm I mean.”

“Heh,” Johnson smirked as he pulled his sleeve back, exposing the metallic limb. “The docs on board tell me that it looks so weird because they don’t have the materials on the ship to make it look like a human limb and not this metal monstrosity, but to tell the truth I kinda like it.”

He flexed the single metal digits that represented his fingers, and smiled at Jan.

“It feels a little odd, but I’m starting to get used to it. My reaction time is a little down I think, but that’s to be expected I guess. Not like this is my real arm or nothin`.”

With a final look of bemusement, Johnson turned back around and picked up a flak jacket. He studied it for a moment before walking over to Jan and holding it up against her front.

“I think this’ll fit,” he said. “How big are your breasts?”

Jan flushed crimson for a moment before throwing the jacket off to the side.

“None of your business,” she said hotly. “What’s the matter with you?”

Johnson quickly held up his arms in a mock shield as if expecting Jan to attack him.

“I wasn’t trying to be perverted dammit. Some of the other female Marines tell me that when they get a fatigue jacket that’s too tight across the chest, it can mess up their aim when they fire off the larger assault rifles.”

“Oh,” Jan offered lamely. “Well you might think about asking with a little more tact next time.”

“Noted,” Johnson said, then reached down to retrieve the jacket Jan had tossed aside. “Now, try this on.”

Jan wordlessly accepted the piece of clothing, slipping her arms into the sleeves. She tested her flexibility while wearing it, bending back and to the sides.

“It fits all right?”

“Like a glove,” Jan replied. “What’s with playing dress-up? Is there something going on that I don’t know about.”

“Captain Keyes told me that before the Covenant came to Earth, you had tried to sign up for the UNSC,” Johnson said, pulling a fresh pair of trousers free. “But you got turned down cause your too young.”

“And that hasn’t changed yet,” Jan pointed out. “I’m still seventeen years old, and that means I can’t legally join the UNSC.”

“That’s where your wrong,” Sergeant Johnson said. “Now that we’ve been detached to help the extradited Covenant, that means the highest ranking person around is Captain Keyes, so what she says goes, and nobody here is going to try and contradict her. So when she had me hustle my ass up to the deck a few hours ago, the Captain was nice enough to inform me that she thought it might be a good idea if I took the time to get you into uniform.”

“Your serious?” Jan asked disbelievingly. Johnson nodded.

“Completely. So, when a lowly Sergeant like me gets an order from the highest ranking soldier in the UNSC this side of the universe, you can bet I get off my ass and make sure whatever I got told to do gets done, as quickly and as efficiently as possible.”

Jan couldn’t help but smile at Johnson’s words.

“Well, what are the terms of my service then?” she asked. Johnson leaned back and smiled, displaying his teeth which looked very white against his black skin.

“Unconditional service up to the end of this war, plus eight months.”

“Eight months, huh?” Jan said. “I’m not sure I like the sound of that.”

“Tell you what,” Johnson said. “If you sign up right now, I’ll knock one month off, and make you a Corporal.”

Jan laughed as she extended her hand.

“Deal.”

Johnson looked down at her hand and shook his head.

“Your in the Marines now, and Marines don’t shake hands,” he pointed out. Jan quickly caught on, and brought her extended hand up to her forehead, giving the sergeant a field-grade salute.

“That’s more like it,” Johnson said, returning her salute and handing her the rest of the fatigues. “Get changed into those and come meet me outside.”

As Jan left to go change, Johnson moved to the door leading out into the main hallway. He had just stepped outside when he heard the alarm klaxon begin to sound.

“Attention all crew members. Exiting Slip Space in five minutes, all personnel are asked to move to their stations, and all off-duty soldiers to immediately return to their squads.”

What the hell? Captain Keyes said we had at least five more hours till we reached our destination.

------------------------------------

Captain Miranda Keyes was feeling very uneasy. It wasn’t enough that the human race seemed doomed to be either consumed by the Flood, or destroyed by the remaining members of the Covenant. No, now she had to contend with fighting alongside a group of creatures who were at one time dedicated to seeing humanity become nothing but a distant memory. As if that wasn’t enough either, now she was finding out that something had gone wrong during their last Slip Space jump.

“Ma’am,” the navigations officer, a Lieutenant (J.G) by the name of Clair Feldt, said somewhat lamely. “I didn’t notice that our trajectory had changed until the ship’s A.I informed me that we were within our intended destination only ten minutes ago.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be checking our course almost hourly Lieutenant?” Keyes asked tiredly. “As a navigator you should know that the Slip Stream is notorious for sending faster or slower than we might think.”

“Yes Ma’am,” Lieutenant Feldt said remorsefully.

Keyes fought the urge to emit a sigh as she slowly massaged the building pressure between her eyes. The officer had made a mistake, but worrying about it was only going to delay they’re available options.

“Forget it,” Keyes said. “I need to know what we can do now.”

“We have two options. Either we go past our intended exit from Slip Space, which risks blowing the drives and having us emerge in an uninhabited galaxy, completely stranded without any means to go anywhere, or we simply hit the intended target as best we can, and hope like hell there’s nothing in our way.”

Great, Keyes muttered in her mind. Either risk getting stranded, or risk finding ourselves emerge from Slip Space and cross our fingers that we don’t appear in an asteroid field.

Regardless of the risks, there was only one real option.

“I suppose we have no choice but to make the target exit jump,” Keyes said. “How much time do we have?”

Lieutenant Feldt quickly checked her notes.

“Five minutes.”

---------------------------------

It was surprising how quickly a battle in space could turn against you. The Sangheili fleet had caught the Covenant off guard, and destroyed an enormous chunk of their force in one single salvo of fire. This hadn’t phased the Covenant however, as their superior numbers soon started to show as the Sangheili fleet found themselves worked into a tight-knit group near the second moon of Danrun.

The damned Forerunner vessels are to blame for the majority of our loses. Their shields are near impervious, and their range of fire is nearly double that of my cruisers.

Aonlum furrowed his brow as he contemplated his available strategies.

Attacking the Forerunner ship would perhaps make the Prophet’s aboard wary, and they would order the Captain’s to back off, allowing Aonlum some leeway in working his fleet into a position where he might be able to strike at the Covenant cruisers. Once he destroyed them, he could attempt to force the Forerunner vessels into a corner of the planet and try and board them, a feat that Aonlum admitted was quite easier said that done.

A plasma cannon shot from three quarters of our ships would give them pause I should think.

“Order all ships between coordinates five-three-zero and five-nine-one to open fire on the Forerunner vessel. Target the Forgotten Legacy, and to let fly any available weapons,” Aonlum spoke from his seat high on the bridge, and got affirmative nods from the other crewmen down below.

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Aonlum worked his mandibles nervously as he watched the head displays. This would either drive the Forerunner ship away from the Covenant fleet, or it would enrage the Covenant and they would move in for the kill.

The bridge shook heavily for a moment, signaling that Honor Without Mercy had fired it’s main plasma cannon. With a quick check of the displays, Aonlum could see that the ships he had indicated earlier were firing as well.

Dear God let this work.

A dissatisfied look crossed his face when many of the Covenant cruisers threw themselves in the path of the shots.

Blind fools. The Forerunner ship wouldn’t be in any danger even if some of our shots were to break through it’s shielding. I’m not sure anything can pierce the hulls of those ships.

Despite the suicidal actions of the Covenant ships, a good portion of the shots fired from the Sangheili ships managed to strike the Forerunner ship, Forgotten Legacy, and Aonlum watched intently as the ship’s shields flared brightly before dying out.

With a curse Aonlum turned his head aside. None of the shots had struck the ship itself, and from the gathering energy beside the Forerunner ship, it looked like it was about to return fire.

Wait, that’s not from the Forerunner ship.

Aonlum looked closer at the main display, his eyes focused on the light that seemed to be billowing and growing directly off the starboard side of the Forerunner ship.

What in all the Hells is that?

----------------------------------

“Exiting Slip Space in ten seconds,” Lieutenant Feldt announced, her eyes glued to the display in front of her.

Captain Keyes felt her hands tighten on her seat at the head of the bridge, as the seconds ticked down in her mind.

“Engaging primary engine power,” a yeoman off to the side declared.

“I’m detecting something directly on the other side of the jump point,” Feldt said. “I can’t get a good enough reading to say what it is.”

Let’s hope its not bigger than us, Keyes thought as ten seconds finally passed.

“Exiting Slip Space now!”

A glorious flash of light assaulted all those in the bridge, and then the ship began to shake as if it were tearing apart.

----------------------------------

Canderus was watching the Sangheili fleet with amusement after their last act of defiance when a Jiralhanae manning the sonar jumped to his feet.

“Energy spike detected! Something’s making a Slip Space exit!”

“Where?” Canderus demanded, intent on not having the same thing happen the last time something arrived uninvited to the battle.

The Jiralhanae peered closely at his terminal.

“Right in the middle of the fleet!” the creature announced in surprise.

Canderus opened his mouth to demand a visual on the fleet when the displays quickly changed to show the Forerunner ship, Forgotten Legacy. The communications officer had obviously anticipated his order.

The Jiralhanae Commander watched as the Forerunner ship, whose shields were still down from the Sangheili salvo that had struck only moments before, suddenly disappeared from view. A giant tear in space appeared, the explosion of energy rippling across the Forgotten Legacy. The Forerunner ship had no time to move when out of the tear in space, came an enormous ship that Canderus barely identified as one that was designed and used by the humans. The ships were weak and slow compared to the Covenant cruisers, but they were enormous in size, and the humans had shown in the past their ability to use them as ramming devices.

With the shields down, and the damage inflicted from the energy emission from the Slip Space tear, the Forgotten Legacy could not withstand the sudden emersion and collision from a ship almost as large as it was.

The bridge of the Order and Faith grew deathly still as the displays showed the only other Forerunner vessel in the battle get sheared into two pieces as the human ship tore straight through it. Muted explosions appeared all over the Forerunner ship as it began to completely break apart.

Canderus watched in awe as the Forerunner vessel tore itself apart with explosions and slowly began to sink into the upper atmospheres of Danrun.

One of the ships once possessed by the Forerunner more than one hundred thousand years ago had just been destroyed before his very eyes, in only a few minutes.

The Jiralhanae Commander joined his fellow soldiers in their speechlessness.

---------------------------------

Aonlum had been as surprised as the Covenant when the human ship had appeared, and then tore a hole straight through the Forerunner ship, severing it in half. Where the Covenant were dismayed, Aonlum was overjoyed.

“Dispatch as many ships as possible to lead the human ship into our fleet!” Aonlum ordered. “I will not let them be destroyed!”

As his orders were carried out, Aonlum quickly brought the communications officer to him and asked for him to set up a link with the human ship immediately. This was done so as quickly as the officer could manage. In only a few moments, Aonlum found himself looking at the female warrior he had met back on the Sacred Ring. Keyes was her name.

“You have no idea how pleased I am about your arrival Captain,” Aonlum said. Keyes smiled at him hesitantly.

“Thank you Arbiter, we’re pleased we could be of help, but truthfully that was pretty much blind luck,” Keyes replied.

“Regardless, you have given our forces hope. Never would I have believed a Forerunner vessel could ever be destroyed, and in a single moment you have done just that. You have my eternal gratitude.”

“We were detached from Earth to come see if we could be of some assistance to you and the Master Chief, where is he by the way?” Keyes asked, changing the subject.

“The Demon has left on a mission of his own, he assured me though that he would return in due time,” Aonlum said. Keyes nodded her acceptance of the story, and Aonlum was pleased that she didn’t press for details. It wouldn’t be just to admit he had no clue as to where the Demon went.

“Once we’re linked up with your fleet, we’ll be ready to help fight. I’ve got a several companies of Marines ready for deployment on the planet if you need them,” Keyes informed him.

“Their assistance will be needed. I shall dispatch several ships to lead them to our forces on the ground so that they may prepare for the eventual Covenant assault.”

“Understood,” Keyes said, and the display went blank.

As he returned to his seat at the head of the bridge, Aonlum felt a smile twinge the corners of his mouth.

Perhaps hope is what we started with, but now it seems we have victory within our grasp.

----------------------------------

The Attrition silently tore a hole in space as it emerged from Slip Space at the far end of the solar system housing the Covenant home world. The ship was operating at an incredibly small power output, so as to escape detection by the ships engaged in battle above the planet.

“Well, it looks like Cortana was right,” Dr. Halsey said from her seat in the copilot’s seat in the somewhat crowded cockpit. Kelly was seated beside her in the pilot’s seat and Cortana was on the pedestal in-between them while Fasul stood stoically behind all of them.

“The Covenant really are fighting each other,” Kelly said in amazement.

“How do you plan on entering the planet with so much destruction going on?” Fasul asked. Dr. Halsey frowned slightly as she looked at the muted explosions in the distance. The Attrition was small, but it would only take one round from the plasma cannons on those Covenant cruisers to take it out.

“I suppose for now our best bet would be to wait out the fighting, and in the meantime try and get as close as possible without being detected. Can you manage that Cortana?”

“Yes Ma’am,” the A.I replied as the ship began to slowly accelerate. Dr. Halsey wasn’t sure but she was beginning to think that Cortana’s attitude had slightly soured since they left the Majal facility. Unfortunately she wouldn’t know for sure without asking, and Dr. Halsey wasn’t about to do that.

“How’s John doing?” she asked instead as she stretched out the stiffness in her joints from the long flight.

“The Reclaimer is doing fine,” Fasul said. “He will need rest before he can even think of moving about again. At the moment I would imagine that he is lost in his dreams.”

------------------------------------

Where am I?

“No matter what happens, I will always protect you.”

John felt himself become aware of his surroundings. The scenery melted into place around him, buildings, objects, and people all seemed to form around his transient body. Finally the walls were constructed and the flooring appeared below his feet, though John noticed distractedly that his body was not touching any surfaces.

“The way your talking, you make it sound like something bad will happen.”

The voice came from behind him, and John turned about, slightly surprised to see two humans lying on a bed. The room was a futuristic design, not unlike that of the Forerunner facilities he had seen before. There was a slight domestic touch to the room that had never been present in anything the Forerunner built, and John subconsciously concluded it had to do with the young woman that was curled up alongside the man inside the bed.

As he peered closer, he was surprised to see that the female looked startlingly similar to Jan.

“I spoke with Fasul this morning,” the human male said. The language was foreign to him, but he could understand them somehow, inside his mind.

“Are you going to leave?” the woman asked, slight fear touching her voice. The male responded by hugging her closer to him and stroking her hair.

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“Only for a short while. Fasul tells me that the Half Breeds are preparing to lay siege to one of our strongholds in the northern sector of the Capula Sector. Evacuations are being ordered but they’ll need me to hold the defensive lines. I won’t be long, maybe a few months at most.”

“Will you promise to be back in less than seven months?”

“Of course,” he answered instantly. “Why seven months? Are you planning something?”

“Its just that I’d hate for you to miss the birth of our first child,” the woman said coyly, running her index finger down the male’s chest. The man quickly sat upright and grasped the woman by the shoulders.

“You’re pregnant?” he asked in surprise. The woman nodded shyly, ducking her head slightly so the man wouldn’t see the blush tinting her cheeks. With a cry of joy he suddenly scooped her up into his arms and jumped to his feet, laughing grandly as he spun her around the room.

“No matter what,” he said, setting her back down on the bedding. “I will be back in time to see my child born. The entire Half-Breed army can stand in my way, but I will tear the heavens apart to get back to you”

The couple kissed intensely, and the scenery began to melt away, so that nothing remained before John but the two humans.

Where the hell am I? John asked once again inside his mind. Finally the couple faded away, and John was bathed in darkness. The dark began to pull away however, and another scene began to form around him. This time the futuristic room was replaced with the wreckage and chaos that could only be produced by war. In the distance a city burned intensely, explosions from weapons unseen could be heard in the background.

John stood upon a high mark. A hillside that looked down upon an open valley. Down below the city that burned with feverish intensity seemed to be the only source of light provided for his surroundings.

“I am sorry Cyriacus,” another foreign voice said beside him. “They took the city before our forces could mobilize.”

The speaker was a Forerunner. One of the Pure Bloods. He looked much like the Forerunner A.I that John had spoken to about the origins of the Halo Installations.

“Where is Chrysanthe?” another voice asked, and John recognized it as the man from the previous scene.

“At the fourth quarter of her term we transferred her to a home in the eastern sector. I felt that the gardens in my home would give her peace and ease the discomfort that she faced during her pregnancy. The Half Breeds took the city before I could get to her,” the Forerunner said, and John could hear the pain in his voice.

The human male, Cyriacus, was clad in the armor of a Reclaimer. His visor was lifted so that he could stare at the burning city without obstruction. John could see the anguish on his face, illuminated by the red glow from the fires below.

“Then she is dead?” Cyriacus asked, his voice rough. “What about our child, did she carry it to birth?”

“Yes my friend,” the Forerunner responded. “You had a young girl. She looked to be as beautiful as her mother.”

A strangled cry arose from Cyriacus’ throat and he fell to his knees, tears running down his face.

“Had Chrysanthe chosen a name?” he asked after a long pause. The Forerunner hesitated slightly and Cyriacus suddenly reared to his feet.

“I will know the name of my daughter!” he cried. “I will burn her name into my heart so that I will know of whom I shall be enacting my vengeance for! I WILL KILL THE HALF BREEDS IN HER NAME!”

“Laelia…your child’s name was Laelia.”

A wistful look passed over Cyriacus and a saddened smile appeared.

“Laelia,” he said, testing the name on his lips. “She named her after my mother.”

“Cyriacus…my friend…my brother,” the Forerunner said, setting his palm upon the human’s shoulder. “I cannot begin to imagine your pain. However we must flee this planet. The Half Breed’s will send the Flood out to harvest the corpses soon, and we will be discovered.”

“Go Fasul,” Cyriacus said, his voice devoid of emotion. The visor on the armor slapped shut by an unknown force, and Cyriacus began to walk towards the towering inferno in the valley below.

“Do not throw your life away!” Fasul shouted after him. “There are too many of them! Cyriacus! CYRIACUS!”

Cyriacus’ figure disappeared, and the scenery once again melted away, and John was now floating in a room filled with a bright white light.

“I never found their bodies.”

John spun around in surprise, and came face to face with Cyriacus. He was clad in broken and shredded armor that bore a small resemblance to the mighty armor of the Reclaimer. His body was bruised and his flesh torn savagely.

“Before I could reach the Eastern Sector, the Flood had alerted the Half Breed’s of my presence. Thousands of them descended onto the city, eager to kill me and harvest my body so that they could reap the benefits of consuming a body filled with the power that coursed through my veins. I fought with my entire being, but I never reached Chrysanthe and Laelia. They died and I did nothing to protect them.

“I promised Chrysanthe that no matter what I would always protect her, and I failed her. She was my flower. My spirit. I was killed by the Half Breeds before I could find her, and protect her body from becoming food for them. I never even saw my child.”

John watched in silence as Cyriacus wept silently. He felt something wet touch his cheek and raised a hand to touch it and was shocked to see that he was crying as well.

“We have both felt the pain of losing those most important to us. I lost my beloved and my child, and you have lost your brothers and sisters. Your warriors,” Cyriacus said softly. He extended his hand to John and cupped it almost tenderly against his cheek.

“Come with me, brother. I will take away your pain and give you the peace you so dearly desire.”

Take away all my pain…

John placed his hand in Cyriacus’, and felt himself begin to fade into darkness. His mind grew heavy and consciousness began to slip away.

“I will destroy our enemies my brother,” Cyriacus‘ voice pierced through the darkness, as the final vestiges of awareness disappeared.

I wish for nothing more than some semblance of peace…

His eyes shot open, and he found himself staring at the bulkhead above him. The curved metal stared back at him lifelessly. He was lying in one of the many small beds provided aboard the Covenant ship. Slowly he pushed himself to his feet and removed the blankets that had been draped over his body.

He stepped from the bed and crossed the room to where a set of doors stood. Passing through them he emerged in a small equipment storage room. His eyes lingered on the armor that was standing at the far end of the room, and he compulsively walked towards it.

As he grew closer a ringing began to emerge from somewhere, and it shot lances of pain throughout his skull. The noise grew sharper until he finally couldn’t stand it any longer.

A grunt of pain echoed through the room as he held his head between his hands, clenching his eyes shut painfully against the noise. His senses seemed to scream back at him, his thoughts nothing more than a jumbled mass of past battles and pain.

His hand came away from his head, and reached forward, touching the armor of the Reclaimer. As quickly as the noise came it suddenly disappeared, and his body returned to normal. After a moment he moved away from the armor, and walked towards the small porthole that offered a look at the deep expanse of space outside.

A great battle was taking place before him. Ships exploded with wondrous fury, and fire burned on the distant planet, echoing the terror of war and power being displayed.

I had better suit up, Fasul will be waiting for me on the planet with my orders.

A lance of pain shot through his skull suddenly. Something was wrong, he shouldn’t know that name. A voice was shouting inside his mind, screaming against the pain.

John? Why John? My name is Cyriacus…

Memories flooded back to him in an instant. Battles, pain, love, and the bitter taste of defeat. Images of his wife appeared, his beloved Chrysanthe, and in her arms she held his child. Laelia. There images shifted, showing his two loves lying upon the ground, their bodies twisted and mutated by the Flood, ready to be taken by the Half Breeds.

They took them from me! I couldn’t protect them…

Next came the images of soldiers, dressed in armor that he recognized, but had never seen before in his life.

Spartans…why do I know that name? Why does their images make my heart grow heavy?

Tendrils of flame seemed to lick at his body, and Cyriacus fell to his knees as pain and heartache wracked his body. Memories of loss filled him, showing him images that were both familiar and foreign to him.

They took everything from me!

My Spartans died because of them!

Chrysanthe and Laelia…nothing more than food for the Half Breeds!

They destroyed my home. My people have suffered for so long because of the Covenant!


Time passed, and Cyriacus finally stood, his mind clear. The pain was gone, and the screaming inside his mind had retreated, leaving nothing but the desire for one thing.

Vengeance.

----------------------------------

“Rear docking bay door opening. Unauthorized override of the system,” Cortana announced over the ship’s internal com channel.

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“What?” Dr. Halsey asked in surprise, bolting upright in her seat. “Give us a visual.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

The occupants of the small bridge inside the ship stared at the lone display with trepidation. Each knew of only one other individual aboard who could have exited the ship, but neither Dr. Halsey nor Kelly chose to speak his name.

The Forerunner A.I however, was more inclining than the both of them.

“It would seem your warrior has lost his battle.”

The words of the ancient being were joined with the display coming to life, and giving them a perfect view of the Master Chief, clad in the armor of the First Reclaimer, as he propelled himself away from their ship, using small jet propulsion devices built into the soles of the armor, and jetted towards the Covenant home world.

“I don’t understand,” Halsey said, turning to look at the Forerunner. “You said that John wouldn’t be able to awaken for over a week.”

“Indeed I did,” the Forerunner nodded once, then pointed at the display as the Master Chief slowly became smaller in their view. “The one you call John is no longer conscious. What you see moving towards that planet is Cyriacus, the first Reclaimer, and now the last.”

The confusion of Halsey’s face amused the Forerunner slightly, and he quickly continued.

“The armor built by we Forerunner to combat the Half Breeds, was not meant to be used by any other creatures. The armor itself synchronizes with its host’s mind, and the two become one. Your ‘Master Chief’ is a descendant of Cyriacus, the blood that flows within him is that of the oldest race of humans. I decided to bestow upon him the armor of Cyriacus because I believed he would be capable of wielding it.

“The enhancements to his genetic makeup were necessary for him to control the armor, and still manage to live afterwards. Unfortunately it would seem that humans have grown weaker over time, and the augmentations I gave him will eventually prove too great for his body to handle. Once that moment comes to pass, his body will destroy itself.”

Dr. Halsey paled considerably and she slumped back into her seat.

“John will die?”

“I told you,” the Forerunner began, his tone lightly scolding. “John no longer controls that body. I cannot say whether Cyriacus is in full control or not, but the fact that he is up and moving is enough indication for me to say that the man you knew no longer exists.”

“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” Dr. Halsey demanded.

“If you knew before hand of the risks involved, there was a chance you would have interfered. I could not allow that to happen. The Flood have been freed of the confines of the Halo Installations, and if the murmurs between our networks are correct, then a Half Breed has awoken. More than ever a true Reclaimer is needed, and the only warrior alive capable of this was your ‘Master Chief’.

“I apologize for the loss of your friend,” Fasul said, his tone conveying a true sense of remorse. “This was necessary however. Cyriacus possessed strength of which I had never seen before. He was the only Reclaimer ever to have killed a Half Breed in ground combat.”

“Is there any chance that John could be revived?” Kelly asked, speaking for the first time.

“It is unlikely,” Fasul responded. “The intricacies of multiple interactions with the armor of the First Reclaimer were not clearly defined before the council decided to activate the Halo Installations. What I know is merely conjecture, but I do know for certain that the man you call ‘John’ will never be the same, even if he emerges from his stasis.”

Halsey looked pained for a moment before turning away and looking at the display. The Master Chief was no longer visible.

“Cortana, can you track his course? Do you know where he’s headed?”

“His current course will take him directly into the battle between the Covenant. Should he somehow pass through the battle cluster above the planet unscathed, he will pass through the exterior atmosphere of the planet and hit somewhere near the eastern defensive block of the Elites. Judging from some of the intercepts, it would seem a battle is currently taking place there,” Cortana explained.

“There is one other thing you should know,” Fasul began, and waited until he had everyone’s attention.

“Cyriacus was a noble man, but he lost his wife and child before he perished on our home world. His memories will have returned to him by now, and the rage he possessed before he died will have resurfaced.

“I witnessed his final battle,” he said with something akin to horror touching his voice. His head shook slightly, clearing the images flooding his mind.

“If you have any forces within his projected path, then I advise you to order them out of the area immediately. Cyriacus will be unable to differentiate friend from foe at this point, and I pity those that will be caught in his path.”

Halsey bit her lower lip in indecision for a moment. Trying to communicate with the Elite fleet would bring them to the attention of the Covenant as well. If they couldn’t get behind the Elite lines in time the Covenant would surely destroy their small vessel. However, if the Forerunner was to be believed, than John was about to unleash the fires of Hell upon Danrun, and everyone caught in the middle was going to be killed.

“Cortana, open up a com linkup with the Elite ships.”

“Yes Ma’am.”

Several tense seconds passed until the display came to life and Dr. Halsey saw an Elite clad in ceremonial armor appear.

“This is Gann Aonlum, the Arbiter of the Sangheili,” the Elite announced. His face was calm, a mask of serenity in the face of the overwhelming odds that his fleet faced.

“My name is Dr. Catherine Halsey, Arbiter, and I am conveying the message that a hostile target is heading towards the battle cluster you are currently occupying.”

“Give me the coordinates,” the Arbiter said quickly. “Have you a classification of the ship?”

“It is not a ship,” Halsey said. “It’s a human.”

The Arbiter’s face twisted into a confused look for a moment. Halsey opened her mouth to explain when Cortana interjected.

“It’s the Master Chief, Arbiter. He’s heading for the Covenant fleet, but we don’t know if he’ll change course and head for your own fleet just yet.”

“The Demon has returned,” the Arbiter exclaimed in astonishment, a slow grin working its way onto his face. “I shall alert my ships not to target him, you have my word.”

“We didn’t contact you for the Master Chief’s safety, Arbiter,” Cortana said. “We did so for your own.”

“I don’t understand.”

“There isn’t sufficient time to explain this yet, but you need to know that right now the Master Chief is incapable of distinguishing between friendly and enemy forces. You should also alert ground forces in the vicinity that if the Master Chief passes through the battle cluster above the planet that they should immediately evacuate.”

“A battle is being waged in Gestahl as we speak,” the Arbiter said. “The Covenant are attacking our fortified positions with incredible force. If we relinquish our positions for even a moment the city shall fall. Surely I cannot give such an order.”

“If you don’t give the order, then the city will be destroyed with even more casualties.”

“There are over three hundred thousand soldiers in Gestahl, and the Covenant have at least triple our forces. The Demon is a skilled warrior but he could not pose such a grand threat.”

Fasul stepped in front of Halsey, allowing the Arbiter to catch a glimpse of him. The Elite gasped with surprise at the sight.

“This ‘Demon’ has now become the epitome of the word. His power is unlike anything you’ll have ever witnessed. Even if every last soldier on this planet were to try and kill him, the result would be the same. Trust me young one, send the order to retreat.”

---------------------------------

Aonlum closed his eyes and breathed audibly. The toils of the battle were beginning to show in his body, as his entire being seemed to ache.

That human has a Forerunner aboard her ship, and the ancient being is telling me that the Master Chief has lost his mind? Whatever has happened I will do my best to find out.

“Send the following to all allied troops,” Aonlum announced to his bridge operators, and waited for the communications linkup to be setup. With a nod from the Sangheili manning the ship’s communications, Aonlum readied himself.

I cannot tell them that it is the Master Chief who is coming. Many of my Commanders know of him, and will wonder why I am taking such grand precautions to protect them from him.

“My brothers, we are partaking in a goal noble enough that the Gods themselves have sent a messenger of divinity on our behalf. He shall soon pass through the Covenant fleet and slam into the planet below, prepared to tear the Covenant forces asunder. His power is great however, and we shall need to give him a wide berth. I am ordering the immediate evacuation of all civilian and military personnel in Gestahl.”

Aonlum turned to the communications officer and spoke.

“Repeat this transmission for the next ten minutes until you are certain the message is clear. I will take no requests for further information from the other ships.”

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“Yes, Arbiter,” the Sangheili responded enthusiastically.

“There is a target heading towards our fleet from the western sector,” Aonlum said to the ship’s radar operator. “Locate the target and give me his projected course.”

“At once Arbiter,” the operator replied.

It will take several hours before Gestahl is completely evacuated, and I do not think that the Demon will be kind enough to wait that long…

“Target is bearing on a projected course that will carry it through the Covenant fleet. If there are no sudden shifts in trajectory than it is likely it will impact the Forerunner ship,” the operator announced.

“What is the ETA?”

“Thirty-seven seconds.”

My God, how fast is the Demon traveling?

“Give me a visual!” Aonlum demanded. The bridge crew worked hurriedly and the main display quickly filled with the darkness of space. Aonlum peered closely and was just able to make out the shape of the Demon.

“The target’s course has yet to change sir!” the operator announced excitedly.

What on Earth are you doing Demon? The Forerunner vessels are strong enough to withstand hundreds of plasma cannon rounds. Surely you can’t expect to harm it?

As if in reply to Aonlum’s thoughts, the screen was able to capture the image of the Demon slamming through the outer shields of the Forerunner vessel as if they were not even there, just before an eruption of light bright enough to distort the video feed appeared.

“Status report!” Aonlum said intently.

“Unknown explosion occurred aboard the Forerunner vessel!” a Sangheili officer reported over the battle net. “Data arrays are corrupted by the influx of energy.”

Damn! Aonlum thought angrily. His eyes were glued to the display, waiting for the video feed to return. It returned momentarily, and Aonlum felt his eyes grow wide.

“Display is back online,” another Sangheili announced unnecessarily.

By the Gods! The Demon tore a hole directly through the Forerunner vessel! How in all the Hells could he have broken through the vessel’s shielding? Even the energy produced by a Slip Space tear isn’t enough to tear it asunder.

“The Forerunner vessel has been hit directly within it’s starboard engines!” a Sangheili proclaimed. “Its beginning to fall towards the planet!”

Shaken, Aonlum turned back to the display showing him the interior of the Attrition. The Forerunner still stood in view, a grim smile on his face, evidence enough that he had seen what the Master Chief had done to the Forerunner vessel.

“Tell me Forerunner,” Aonlum said slowly. “What has happened to the Demon?”

“You may address me as Fasul,” the Forerunner answered. “The title of Forerunner makes me uneasy. There is little my race accomplished to deserve such a burden.”

“Fasul then,” Aonlum said.

Fasul nodded his thanks on the display and turned slightly, allowing Aonlum a better look at his profile.

He is a construct?

“When this “Demon’ explained to me the current situation in the universe, it was my decision that he should inherit the armor of the First Reclaimer, a man by the name of Cyriacus. As you can see, the armor grants it’s wearer a power nearly as great as the Half-Breeds.”

“Half-Breed?” Aonlum questioned, confused.

“It isn’t of importance,” Fasul said casually. “For now I would ask that you dispatch several ships to retrieve us. Your enemies are distracted by what Cyriacus has done to their lead ship.”

The visual linkup was severed and Aonlum stared blankly at the darkened screen.

He called the Demon ‘Cyriacus’…what has happened?

“Release the Conviction and Sacred Cubit,” Aonlum ordered. “I wish to speak with those aboard this ship, but it will have to wait until they are safely returned to our fleet.”

With his orders being carried out, Aonlum relaxed his position and slumped against the small terminal in front of him. His eyes lingered on the display showing the Master Chief’s decent into the higher atmospheres of the planet, Danrun.

Come Demon, tell me you have not lost your way just yet?

--------------------------------

Canderus pulled himself slowly up from the deck. When the unidentified target had slammed into their shielding the Forerunner ship had shuddered violently, knocking all those unfortunate enough to not be sitting, hard into the deck.

The Prophet of Serenity was lying next to Canderus, his eyes open but unseeing. Stepping over carefully, Canderus saw that the Prophet had slammed his head into the lower step leading to the pilot’s seat. His skull had been cracked open, most likely killing the creature instantly.

“Report!” Canderus bellowed as he turned away from the Prophet, trying to hide the relief he felt from no longer having to deal with the fool.

“Sir!” one of the few conscious Jiralhanae left on the bridge announced. “Reports from the engine room say that something passed straight through the ship. Decks three through seventeen have been breached.”

Impossible! The Forerunner ships are made of a technology millennia more advanced than anything we’ve ever devised. Not even the Plasma Cannons can pierce it’s shielding, let alone the actual ship itself.

“Do you have an image of what hit us?” Canderus asked. He realized with surprise that the bridge officer he was speaking to was the only other soldier conscious on the bridge. The Jiralhanae hurried over to another station and activated several controls. In an instant the central displays shifted into images of a figure, and for the first time, Canderus realized it was a human.

“Enhance the image,” Canderus ordered. The section of the frame showing the human became larger.

“What is that human wearing?” the other Jiralhanae asked. Canderus finally pulled his eyes away, aware that his left arm was trembling.

“I do not know,” Canderus replied. “Have you heard from the engine room? Can the ship still function?”

Canderus turned his eyes back onto the Prophet of Serenity.

I wonder if he had time to realize just how impregnable this ship turned out to be before he died? In a matter of hours, the ‘barbarians’ have destroyed the only Forerunner vessels remaining. Because of your insistence to send forth my ships without a care for defense, we are now outnumbered by our enemy.

“The engines have sustained critical damage!” the Jiralhanae shouted. “We can operate at seven percent efficiency, but only for several hours.”

Canderus shook his head slowly in disbelief. What should have been a routing, had turned out to be a disaster.

“Order the fleet to retreat to the western skies over the planet. Leave twelve ships to guard the space above.”

Canderus couldn’t help the small smirk that fell onto his face as the ship shuddered lightly as they began their long retreat to the other side of the planet.

We’ve lost this battle. Arbiter, your name skills are as amazing as the rumors made them to be. Tartarus was a fool to think he could kill you. I look forward to our next meeting.

---------------------------------

Cyriacus felt immeasurable forces crashing against his body as he began the long fall through the upper realms of the planet. The heat of reentry burned against his armor, and with a mental note the armor increased it‘s density, ensuring his skin would be left free of discomfort.

Our enemies have been given a taste of the Hell that we shall give them. For the lives of those we have lost, we shall return upon them a pain one hundredfold worse!

The heat slowly disappeared, and was replaced with the vicious lashing of the higher altitude winds. Cyriacus let the wind push his body, as he was already scanning the planet for the battle he had seen taking place aboard the other ship.

A few seconds and several thousand feet later, Cyriacus had pinpointed the coordinates and made the proper adjustments to his decent. He would land directly in the center of the battle, where he would be given the opportunity to kill as many of his enemy as possible.

--------------------------------

The order from the Arbiter to evacuate Gestahl had come to the Allied forces at a very inopportune moment. The Covenant forces had started their initial assault hours ago, and after several hours of intense artillery barrages, the bulk of the enemy force had begun the trek towards the city limits. If they had tried to retreat, the Covenant would have obliterated them.

Jan was stationed up on the front lines of the defensive boundary. She, along with Sergeant Johnson, ‘Eranumee and several other squads mixed with Elite, Hunter, and Grunt forces were occupying an industrious building that gave them a proper vantage point of the approaching enemy forces. It also made them a perfect target for the artillery rounds fired by the Covenant, but so far the building had managed to withstand the onslaught.

“Remember to keep your eyes of those goddamn Wraiths in the back ranks,” Sergeant Johnson said, slipping the leather glove on that he used to cover his bionic hand. “Once the infantry get close enough they’ll start lighting us up again so those sonsof-blam!-es can just waltz right in here and slit our throats.”

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“The word has been passed down Sergeant,” ‘Eranumee replied from his position beside the one of the many open windows overlooking the coming battle. “All we can do now is wait, and hope that the Arbiter can keep the skies clear at least until we repel this attack.”

“You really think we can hold the line?” Jan asked the exhausted-looking Elite.

“We must,” ‘Eranumee replied. “The Covenant will give no mercy to the many civilians that are unfortunate enough to be caught in this battle. Their blood will not be spilt so long as we stand between these bloodthirsty savages and them.”

It wasn’t that long ago where that description would have covered you Elites as well, Jan thought as she returned her attention to the approaching army. They were only a few hundred feet from the lower defenses that encompassed the surrounded city.

“Jesus Christ, what the hell is that?”

Jan looked over at Johnson, expecting him to have spotted something out in the gathering enemy forces, but instead his gaze was concentrated upwards, towards the blood-red sky.

Up amongst the cloud’s she could see a streaking object. It was moving incredibly fast, and seemed to be emitting some kind of energy, as it was easily detectable from such a large distance.

“By the Gods,” ‘Eranumee said. “Could this be the messenger that the Arbiter spoke of?”

“If messenger means ‘big giant missile that’s about to burn us a new -blam!-’, then yeah, I guess it is,” Johnson said in response.

A missile? No, that’s definitely not a missile.

The object was closer now, it seemed to have descended thousands of feet in only a few seconds. Jan put her augmented eyes to use, and straining herself she could see the general outline of the object through the small pair of binoculars.

“It’s a person!” Jan exclaimed in shock.

“Say what?” Johnson said, before peering at the object a little closer. “Holy -blam!-, she’s right. Did some poor bastard not have his evac chute open up?”

“No Sergeant,” ‘Eranumee said with conviction. “He is our savior.”

Johnson didn’t look convinced, but as more and more of the object appeared, Jan was beginning to think that the Elite might be right.

The armor looks a little different, but that is definitely something a Spartan would wear. It’s impossible to think, but that has to be the Master Chief!

“Well, where’s he going to land?” Johnson asked. “If he’s our savior than it’d be nice to know he won’t land right on top of our -blam!- heads.”

No sooner had Johnson spoken, when the human clad in the odd armor had slammed into the ground, creating a crater nearly forty meters in diameter. Somehow the soldier had controlled his decent as he had landed, kneeling with one leg, his body low to the ground and looking as if the incredible force of slamming into the ground hadn’t effected him in the slightest.

“-blam!-…” Johnson muttered as the figure climbed to his feet, dust and debris from his impact clearing around him.

The strange energy peeling off of him seemed to increase as the figure glanced at his surroundings, and saw that he was situated dead-center between the city of Gestahl, and the Covenant forces intent on capturing it. Jan couldn’t help but shudder as a tendril of fear raced down her spine whilst the cold gaze of the armor-clad creature swept over the battlefield.

“What are they doing?” Jan asked, in regards to the Covenant forces. They had stopped in their approach and were staring at the mysterious soldier.

“Probably deciding who’s side that guy is on,” Johnson said. “Kinda like we are. Either way, considering he just dropped out of the -blam!- sky, something tells me he’s gonna mess at least one of us over.”

“What do you think?” Jan asked ‘Eranumee. The Elite turned and nodded solemnly.

“All we can do, is trust in the Arbiter’s words. I shall pass the word along that the soldier is not to be fired upon.”

As the Elite began to leave the room, Jan returned her attention to outside the window, where the soldier was now making slight gestures while facing the Covenant force.

“He must be talking to them,” Johnson said. “-blam!-, and we can’t hear him from over here.”

-------------------------------

“-ight me my cowardly enemy! I am not an innocent woman, nor a child with whom life has just blessed! Come and I shall give you a death far too merciful than you deserve!” Cyriacus shouted, using the ancient tongue of the Majal.

How unfortunate, my enemies seem to be too shocked to respond to my presence.

Cyriacus adjusted the output levels of his armor, mulling over the influx of energy he had absorbed when he obliterated the Forerunner ship high above the planet in orbit.

If they do not wish to come to me, then perhaps I shall give them reason to.

The crackling energy that swarmed around his form seemed to intensify before suddenly dimming, and became concentrated along both his arms.

Which force to strike at first? Those situated in the city will be easier to attack as they are confined to the buildings, while these here in the open fields have many opportunities to flee.

The distant row of alien tanks rumbled with power, and became the focus of Cyriacus’ attention.

The ground forces it is then…

----------------------------------

“What the hell is he doing?” Johnson asked as he peered through the pair of binoculars that Jan had handed him. Out in the center of the battlefield, the lone soldier had began to warp the distorted energy that surrounded him, and was now facing the Covenant forces entirely.

“Whatever it is, something tells me it’s going to be big,” Jan commented off to the side.

No sooner had the words left her mouth when the soldier out in the field suddenly unleashed a hellish shockwave of energy. A pillar of powerful energy, brighter than anything they had ever seen, drove straight down through the center of the Covenant infantry units, throwing the enemy soldiers on the fringes of the attack high into the air. Those in the direct bath were not so lucky, as they seemed to disappear entirely within the confines of the amazing display of power.

The pillar of energy finally stopped its furious charge as it slammed into a tightly knit unit of Covenant Wraith Tanks. Wraiths were well known for their heavy shielding and fortification, but in the face of such an attack, they were shredded as if they were constructed of paper. The gravity propulsion drives used to give the Wraith it’s ability to hover became overloaded and promptly exploded, raining smoldering wreckage down upon those troops unlucky enough to be close by.

A long moment of awe-like wonder seemed to overcome the battlefield, as the Covenant forces stared at the damage left in the wake of the soldier’s attack. Johnson watched the scene unfold, speechless for one of the few moments in his life.

Like a rope pulled too tightly, the silence snapped, and was replaced by a furious rage brought on by the Covenant forces, who unleashed a massive wave of plasma energy towards the lone soldier. Johnson swore every last soldier must have fired their weapons at the soldier.

The intensity of the attack seemed to burn the air itself as the plasma sailed across the open field towards the soldier. In defiance to the coming wave of certain death, the soldier remained rooted in his position, staring back at the Covenant forces with arrogance.

“He’s going to be killed!” Jan shouted, and before Johnson had a chance to see what she was doing, the girl had leapt to her feet and was rushing out of the room.

“Jan!” Johnson shouted after her, but she was already too far gone, and after an internal dispute he returned his attention to out the window, where the wave of plasma was just about to envelop the soldier.

“There ain’t gonna be nothing left of the poor bastard,” he muttered.

In contrast to Johnson’s words, the second before the soldier was melted by the attack, he thrust his arms wide, off to his sides, and a brilliant flash of light shot out across the battlefield.

“-blam!-!” Johnson cursed, throwing his arms up to block out the light. His eyes burned, giant red spots swimming in front of him despite the knowledge that he had closed his eyes. For a moment he was certain he had gone blind.

By the time he had managed to crawl back to the window, his vision had slightly cleared, granting him a hazy view of the battlefield. The view afforded to him was enough to give the Sergeant enough cause to think that now might be a good idea to get out of the -blam!- building.

----------------------------------

Cyriacus let his armor take the brunt of the Covenant assault, the force of the enemy attack cracking the hardened metal beneath his feet and driving him deeper into the crater. The gigantic wave of plasma had given him nearly tenfold the amount of energy that the shielding on the vessel out in space provided him. It would take a few moments to cultivate and transfer the raw energy, and until then he would be exposed to enemy attack.

The enemy forces were not idle after they launched their volley of plasma energy. The hundreds of thousands of ground troops had begun their charge towards him, intent on ripping apart whatever remained of his body after the plasma energy struck him.

To their credit, the enemy stumbled only slightly after Cyriacus absorbed the plasma volley with an ease that bordered on impossible. Their bloodthirstiness seemed to have overridden the self-preservation instincts all creatures were born with. These creatures were intent on rushing to their deaths, and Cyriacus would be loath to disappoint them.

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The armor on his arms shifted, and panels along the length of his forearms opened up, allowing the large pointed blades to be freed on each arm. The blades were attached to his armor, and as such he would be forced into a lightning-quick battle style. He would need to last for several minutes before the energy he absorbed could be processed and filtered, which meant he’d be given a chance to murder his enemies with his own hands.

As a malicious grin spread across his face behind his helmet, Cyriacus felt a pulse of energy through his body. A voice was calling out to him from somewhere, but from where?

“It sounds…like Chrysanthe.”

As if he were struck by some unknown force, Cyriacus lurched forward painfully, his hands coming up to clasp onto his helmet.

Pain…why is there so much pain? I’ll avenge you my love, until then wait for me on the other side with my dear Laelia. I know I’ve made you wait for so long, but I will do my best to reach you.

The computer overlay display that was flashed across his visor alerted Cyriacus and gathered his attention back to the battlefield.

The power necessary to filter so much raw energy is going to disengage the fusion core for several minutes. It looks like I’ll be forced to fight without any assistance from the suit.

---------------------------------

Jan had reached the bottom floor of the building when she felt the tremendous expenditure of power out on the battlefield, and for one terrifying moment she thought that the Covenant attack had killed the Master Chief. As she rounded the corner and came out onto the road leading out of the city, she saw that the Spartan had somehow survived the attack. Peering closer as she ran, Jan saw that the massive plasma wave hadn’t even touched the ground. Whatever the Master Chief had done, he’d made the Covenant assault disappear without a trace.

Her elation over John’s survival was short-lived however, when she saw that the legions of Covenant had begun their charge towards the Spartan, looking for all intents and purposes like they were about to rip him to shreds.

Why isn’t he running!?

Jan had cleared the road and was already running across the hardened surface that covered the entirety of the Covenant planet before she realized that she didn’t even have a weapon.

“Damnit!” she cursed and halted her charge momentarily. A glance behind her told the girl enough that if she turned back, by the time she returned the Master Chief would already have been overrun. She was almost three hundred yards away from the Spartan and the looming Covenant army.

With a disgusted grunt, Jan resumed her charge towards the swarming army, ignoring the cries from the mixture of Elite, Hunter, Grunt, and Marine forces behind her. Weapon or no weapon, she was going to help him.

She had hurtled over the last of the roadblocks erected by the Elite warriors and begun sprinting across the upper roadways leading out towards the vector where the battle was looming when she felt the ground begin to tremble. Her eyes focused on the Covenant forces ahead and saw that the many clusters of Wraith tanks had begun to fire on the Master Chief’s position, heedless of their own forces that were charging in their intended range. Brute, Drone, and Jackal soldiers were scorched by their own forces as they rushed towards the Spartan.

Leaping down to a lower section of the roadway, Jan saw that the Spartan had shifted his armor, and now two long pointed blades protruded from his arms along his forearms. For the first time since the attack earlier she saw him move, the warrior taking the time to climb over the edge of the crater he had created earlier, giving him the opportunity to regard the incredibly large number of Covenant currently charging towards him.

Run you idiot! Jan raged in her mind as she jumped from the lowest roadway onto the hardened metal ground. She was on level with the soldiers now, and she only had another hundred yards or so before she met up with the Spartan, but already she could tell that the Covenant were going to beat her to the punch.

----------------------------------

A small cluster of Marines on a rooftop were overlooked the looming battle with a sense of wonder when they heard Sergeant Johnson approach.

“Goddamn! I thought I told you -blam!-s to get low during that last artillery assault!” the hardened soldier exclaimed as he came to a stop before them.

“-blam!-, Sarge!” a Marine Corporal said. “We woulda been toast either way. The Covenant ain’t gonna take too long to tear through those two.”

“Two?” Johnson asked. Without waiting for a response, he reached down and snatched the biped binocular device from the soldier and held it up to his eyes.

“That girl tore outta here not even two minutes ago,” the corporal said.

“Why the -blam!- didn’t someone stop her!” Johnson demanded as he locked his view on the girl wearing UNSC fatigues, currently rushing across the metal surface of the city floor towards the armored soldier and a whole -blam!--load of Covenant.

“Before we blinked she was past all the roadblocks. It woulda been suicide goin’ after her. Plus I don’t think none of us would manage to catch her.”

“Goddamn,” Johnson breathed angrily under his breath. Jan was only a couple hundred yards from the soldier, but it looked like whatever assistance she was hoping to lend was going to be too little too late. The Covenant were closing in, and from the glow overwhelming the soldiers in the front ranks, they were about to repeat the previous performance and launch an incredible wave of plasma at the soldier. With a grunt Johnson prepared to cover his eyes when the plasma wave was unleashed.

This time the plasma energy slammed into the ground without a hindrance, surprising Johnson. Even more surprising was that there wasn’t any sign of the soldier.

“What the hell?”

Almost thirty of the lead Brutes in the charging Covenant forces fell to the ground, and before they were trampled by the soldiers behind them, Johnson could see that each one had been decapitated.

“What’s going on, Sarge?” the Marine corporal asked. “That guy shoulda been roasted alive.”

“I think that bastard Arbiter was telling the truth,” Johnson said, his tone light. This time he concentrated his eyes through the biped binocular and caught a glimpse of the armored soldier as he seemed to blur across the front line of Covenant forces who were slowing their charge as they realized the enemy was no longer in front of them.

“’Messenger of divinity’ huh?” Johnson grinned. He turned and smiled at the small gathering of Marines.

“Grab your gear boys. That sonofa-blam!- is on our side, and we’re going to help him send the Covenant running with their tails between their legs!”

---------------------------------

Jan was as surprised as anyone when she saw that the Master Chief hadn’t been vaporized by the last Covenant attack. Her suicide charge stumbled to a halt only seventy feet from the Covenant forces, as she watched in amazement as the lead forces of the Covenant assault began to fall, their bodies in a state of disassemble. The Covenant themselves stopped as well, taking up firing positions, but without a target they soon became overwhelmed with confusion and began firing wildly, striking at each other.

Her amazement stalled as she saw several squads of Brutes notice her position and begin to take potshots at her. Ducking down low, Jan avoided the initial barrage but quickly found herself being fired upon by more and more soldiers.

-blam!-! I’m tied down here and since the Covenant seem to like having as little obstruction as possible, there’s nothing to take cover behind. Sooner or later one of those bastards is going to get a lucky hit and I’ll be done for.

It appeared that the Brute squads had sent word to several of the Wraith tanks, for shortly after her discovery Jan felt the ground tremble as one of the giant plasma cannon rounds slammed into the steel covered earth only thirty feet from her position.

Her cool resolve quickly melted under the barrage of enemy fire and savage fear took over. Quivering with fright, Jan clenched her eyes shut and shouted the only thing she could thing of.

“JOHN!”

--------------------------------

The voice cut through the air like a knife, and Cyriacus’ head snapped towards where it originated from, his eyes settling on the still form of a young girl crumpled upon the ground. Plasma rounds flew past her position, coming dangerously close to striking her.

His blade sliced through the thick tendons of one of the ugly beasts, knocking it’s head clear off its shoulders. The voice echoed in his skull and memories flooded his senses, two names being called out simultaneously.

Jan!

“Chrysanthe!”

At the precise moment the fusion drive of his armor kicked back to life, Cyriacus put himself in motion and sprinted towards the girls position, clearing the large distance in fractions of a second. The armor’s shielding absorbed the mongrel’s attacks as he knelt down in front of the girl, a gloved hand coming down to rest on her motionless head.

With a start the girl reared up and backwards, staring at him in fright. The fear seemed to dull as she realized that he was not one of the feral beasts, and Cyriacus looked into her blue eyes as recognition dawned on him.

“Chrysanthe…your alive.”

The girl stared at him without comprehension, and before he could embrace her, Cyriacus felt a large plasma round slam into his shields. With a mental check he saw that the energy from the earlier attack had finished it’s cycle and was now prepared to fire.

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“Stay where you are my beloved, I will deal with these beasts first,” Cyriacus said, and despite the girl’s continued confusion, she seemed to obey the command in his voice and remained on the ground.

Cyriacus regarded the looming enemy army with rage spilling off his form. The blades he had used to rip their flesh asunder slid back into their earlier positions inside his armor as his arms came down to rest by his side.

“Disgusting filth! You took her from me once, but you shall never again be given the opportunity!”

---------------------------------

Sergeant Johnson was clearing the last barricade when the first shockwave hit. The force, coupled by the third blinding light to be emitted that day, sent him reeling backwards as he crashed into the Marine forces down below, sending them tumbling back down to ground.

The concussion from the force made his ears ring painfully and he lay on top of one of the unfortunate Marines as he struggled to regain his senses. He slowly climbed back to his feet, helping the other Marines to their feet, and after assurances that they were all right, he set about climbing the final barricade once more.

“If its not one thing its another,” he grumbled to himself as he hitched his hand onto the upper frame and hauled his body upwards. Breathing deeply he turned his attention towards the battle, and felt the bottom of his stomach fall out.

Goddamn…

Hellish flames burned across the battlefield. Corpses of Covenant forces lay immobile on the ground as the fire scorched their flesh. Wraith’s burned with fury as their fusion drives cooked off and overloaded. The metal ground seemed to have melted, becoming a silver sea of burning fire. The flames distorted his vision, but Johnson swore he couldn’t see any of the Covenant forces any longer.

As his mind reeled at the scene before him, a figure appeared in his view and he quickly grabbed for his binoculars.

Standing upon the edge of the enormous crater was the soldier from before. In his arms he cradled Jan close to his body as he overlooked the results of whatever the hell he had done to the Covenant army.

---------------------------------

One second she was staring at the Master Chief’s back, and the next everything had gone black. An incredible pulse of power slammed into her, and for a moment she was sure her body would be torn apart by the forces pulling against her body. Before she could succumb, an arm looped around her waist and pulled her up against an armored body, and Jan realized it was the Master Chief.

He’s protecting me…

Her ears were pained against the shockwave that seemed to originate from the figure that held onto her. Somehow she was not affected by the strike, and she kept her eyes clenched shut while the battle died down around them.

“Yeln si nansu.”

The words were foreign to her, and Jan slowly inched her eyes open and found herself staring into the face of the Master Chief. The visor that had covered his face was no longer there, and he smiled at her with a grand look as his arms tightened fractionally around her.

“Thank y…!”

Her response was cut off as the Spartan leant forward, capturing her lips with his own. Jan felt her mind shut down as the Master Chief lightly teased her bottom lip with his own. When she felt his tongue press lightly against her mouth, her mind kicked back into gear and she pulled away from him, aware that her cheeks must have been burning furiously.

“What the hell are you doing!?” Jan demanded vehemently, his response more important to her than the fact that she now stood amidst a sea of flames and unmoving Covenant bodies.

The Master Chief looked at her in confusion. He spoke another phrase in whatever incomprehensible language he had spouted before.

“John, what’s wrong with you?” Jan asked, her voice considerably gentler then before.

His eyes seemed to come afire when she spoke his name, and his face twisted into a grimace as he dropped her to the small section of metal ground that had not been ripped apart during the battle. She hit hard against her tail bone, and she looked up in surprise as the Master Chief fell to his knees, his hands clutching at his head as he slammed his head against the ground repeatedly.

“Nasire len…where am I…fisil deoka…help me…!”

What’s going on?

The powerful roar of an engine drew Jan’s attention upwards, and she saw a Pelican hovering above them. Slowly the ship began to descend, and she could see Sergeant Johnson leaning out the back, peering down at them.

“How’s our boy doing!?” Johnson called down. Jan looked down at the Master Chief, and saw that he was now motionless on the ground.

“He’s unconscious, I think!” Jan shouted back. Johnson disappeared from view for a moment, and the ship quickly dropped down the remaining distance, stopping at a hover only a few feet from the ground. Johnson jumped from the back down to the ground, landing beside the two.

“Let’s get him aboard,” Johnson said, his arms gripping the lower sections of the Spartan’s legs. Jan hurried to her feet and hooked her arms behind his shoulders. With a great deal of effort the two managed to lift the Spartan off the ground and dump him into the Pelican bay.

As soon as Jan and Sergeant Johnson climbed aboard, the Pelican lifted away from the ground and started back towards the city of Gestahl. Jan glanced backwards, and saw the true extent of whatever the Master Chief had done.

The entire metal plate that the Covenant army were positioned upon was now nothing but scorched earth or burning flames. Try as she might, she couldn’t see any of the Covenant forces moving about.

“They’re all dead,” Johnson commented from beside her. Jan turned and regarded him with a look of surprise. The Sergeant nodded softly.

“When you see the video the Pelicans managed to get, you’ll understand.”

Jan felt the adrenalin high she had been on since the start of the battle more than ten hours ago start to wear off. Her energy seemed to drain out of her in an instant, and she slumped against her seat, trying to get the memory of the Master Chief as he was crumpled on the ground screaming incoherently as he slammed his head into the hardened metal. Her last thought before she dozed off was something she wished to express vocally.

What the hell is going on?

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Author’s Notes: I’m sure that’s something you guys are asking as well huh?

Big chapter, like I said before, not as big as it was going to be, which is pretty nuts. I’ve had quite a few computer set backs lately so now that they’ve more or less sorted themselves out I think I can stop these damned month-long waits. At least I hope I can, cause a month from now is that little thing I like to call the Xbox 360 launch. I’ll be pretty useless after that.

Some of you are probably thinking I’ve reneged on that whole no romance thing right? Don’t worry, that right there was the only bit you’re getting from me. I think so at least.

If your wondering about what’s happening to the Master Chief, well, take to heart that your probably not the only one. Those familiar with my other work know that I enjoy wrecking havoc with the minds of my characters, and I really wouldn’t take any bets that this story is going to be different.

Thanks for reading and reviewing, you guys are too nice for your own good.

  • 10.19.2005 3:19 AM PDT
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Nuuuhhhhh.

Man that took forever to post. Bungie your anti-spam filter thing is killing me!

Ugh, I need sleep, and I'm just now remembering I'm not in my own house right now. *sob*

I'll send PM's in the morning! Hope this montrosity was worth the wait!

Edit: I like that line of the Arbiter's, when he's musing about the fraud he feels like in the armor of the Arbiter. He's such a cool character.

Also, most of the story was done without Konoka's editing, so any grievous errors are my own fault and not hers.

[Edited on 10/19/2005]

  • 10.19.2005 3:20 AM PDT
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Posted by: Mr_Clark
Ugh, I need sleep, and I'm just now remembering I'm not in my own house right now. *sob*


Haha, I woke up early so you wouldn't die again this time from sleeping in a horrible position. Looks like I did so in vain.

Though it did give me a chance to read the chapter. Very nice, I give it a thumbs up. Reading it without searching for your infamous spelling errors was nice.

I am upset about what's happening to the Master Chief though, I don't want him to go crazy or anything. That'd be crappy. Though it was quite cute when he kissed Jan like that.

Also, I think most people are gonna put two and two together about the Forerunner here (or is it Majal now?). So maybe we'll be seeing those theories everyone was supposed to post.

I agree with you, the Arbiter is very cool.

There's a couple things I would have liked to see in the chapter, but given its already enormous length, I understand why you didn't put them in there.

1) What's up with Colonel Ackerson? He escaped from Earth, and I've been dying to know what he's up to. How's he going to react when he finds out Dr. Halsey and Kelly raided his facility?

2) Truth and the other Forerunner. They were conspicuously absent this chapter, so I imagine they're still in transit towards Danrun, but damn, that's gonna make for one hell of an entrance.

3) What about back on Earth? Have the Flood taken over? Did ONI evacuate the place? Is the ark really on Earth?

After reading the chapter I don't want to go to my classes today. I'm too wrapped up in Halo right now.

  • 10.19.2005 5:20 AM PDT
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Damn, that was some read! And it was supposed to be three times as long? What the hell are you trying to do? Write a book within a book? Damn....

A weird chapter... really. You said you like to mess up the minds of your characters? You also seem to like to mess up the minds of your readers. This was a fast read, and I think I have to agree with you that Aonlum/the Arbiter is the coolest character one can find. A master strategist, I love those.

A superb chapter once again, certainly worth the wait, despite all the trouble that befell on you the last couple of days. Enjoy your rest, you have earned it.

  • 10.19.2005 5:24 AM PDT
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that was a very cool toy the m/c has now..... if only he had it at the begining......

  • 10.19.2005 7:16 AM PDT
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as I was lying on my bed at the night gazing the stars wondering one thing; Where the hell my roof went.

I am a Zombie.
Proud member of B.net since -04

So that guy with robes, wasn't Forerunner. It is Half-Breed.

No sooner had the words left her mouth when the soldier out in the field suddenly unleashed a hellish shockwave of energy. A pillar of powerful energy, brighter than anything they had ever seen, drove straight down through the center of the Covenant infantry units, throwing the enemy soldiers on the fringes of the attack high into the air. Those in the direct bath were not so lucky, as they seemed to disappear entirely within the confines of the amazing display of power.

The pillar of energy finally stopped its furious charge as it slammed into a tightly knit unit of Covenant Wraith Tanks. Wraiths were well known for their heavy shielding and fortification, but in the face of such an attack, they were shredded as if they were constructed of paper. The gravity propulsion drives used to give the Wraith it’s ability to hover became overloaded and promptly exploded, raining smoldering wreckage down upon those troops unlucky enough to be close by.


When did this turn into Dragonball GT? No really, this was incredible chapter.

I am dying to see when Canderus and Arbiter meet next time, and also that Half-Breed and John/Cyriakus are going to fight all day long. At the end the whole planet will split and everyone dies except that Ackerson that wanders alone in the darkness.

  • 10.19.2005 7:55 AM PDT
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Emm ''Laelia…your child’s name was Laelia.”
Starwars references Mr_clark?

It was good but why make him(Mc) hyper mega powerful etc...

  • 10.19.2005 9:29 AM PDT