Prologue

Diego Garcia

0145 hours, October 20, 2552

 

He hated nearly everything going on. The stupid generals who had come up with the idea, the idea itself, the stupid Marines he was stuck with, the fact that the Covenant existed, the fact that there was a large chance the Covenant knew the location of Earth. Staff Sergeant Richard Malkovich had never felt such unadulterated hatred before. He was the commander of a squad of ODSTs for goodness sakes, not a regular Marine. And yet, along with two others of his squad, he’d been forced to join forces with a platoon from A Company of the 405^th because of the threat of Covenant invasion. And even worse, Malkovich was treated like a regular Marine squad commander, not the special forces veteran he was. Not to mention, officially there were no ODSTs in the unit. The ODSTs implanted within the platoon were top secret outside of the specific units for some political reason Malkovich didn’t know or care about. Malkovich was not a proud man, he had an extremely small ego, but this was pushing his patience to the limit. He did not fight the battles of a Marine; he fought the high-risk battles of the Helljumpers. Or at least, he had fought the high-risk battles of the Helljumpers. Then this assignment had come along.

 

“Sarge! Quit your thinking and pay attention!” Corporal Donny “The Don” Antonio said, elbowing Malkovich in the side. Don was Malkovich’s demolitions expert and a good friend of Malkovich’s for three months.

“Huh?” Malkovich asked, shaking his head to clear it. He took in his surroundings. He was still leaning against a building at an airstrip where twelve Pelicans waited for deployment orders.

“Those regs over there want to talk to you,” Don said. Malkovich glanced to his right at two regular Marines standing a couple of meters away. He nodded an acknowledgment of their presence and one asked,

“So, Sergeant Malkovich, do you know any Russian?”

“Nyet,” Malkovich replied.

“What?” the Marine asked.

“He said ‘no’,” Don replied. The Marine nodded, muttering something about Malkovich speaking German. Don shook his head and said, “Nyet is Russian for ‘no’, you idiot.”

“What-I didn’t know that!” the Marine said as his comrade slapped him across the side of his head.

“Stupid regs,” Don muttered. Malkovich chuckled and turned away from the Marines. He yawned then said,

“And to think we may be going to battle alongside ‘em.”

“Don’t remind me. I’m dreading it,” Don replied. Malkovich was about to say something when the platoon commander, Lieutenant Adrian Bennet, burst out of the base headquarters and yelled,

“1^st Platoon, form up! The Covenant just dropped out of slip space and are engaging our fleet! Squads, assemble and board the Pelicans!”

“2^nd Squad, fall in on me! Let’s move!” Malkovich yelled, jumping to his feet and retrieving his battle rifle. He had Don and Corporal Steven Gerard from his ODST squad under his command, as well as seven regular Marines. Gerard was by his side a second later, radio and SMG at the ready. The other seven Marines were sprinting towards Malkovich, readying their weapons and securing equipment as they moved.

“They should have already been ready,” Don said.

“They’re regs, Don. Get used to it,” Malkovich replied. When the Marines stood to attention in front of Malkovich, he said,

“What do you think you’re doing? We’re about to get hit by the Covenant and you’re standing around staring at me! I may be good looking, but I don’t need you people proving it. Get into the Pelicans!”

“Sometimes I pity them for a couple seconds,” Don said as he watched the Marines run for their assigned Pelican. When Malkovich glanced over at him, Don added, “Then I remember what you’ve put me through.”

With that Don ran after the Marines, followed by Gerard. Malkovich chuckled and then followed after them.

 

When he sat down in the Pelican’s cargo bay near the cockpit, Malkovich asked the pilots,

“Any word on when we deploy?”

“I presume sometime soon. Not too long,” the pilot replied. Malkovich nodded. It would be a frustrating wait.

 

“Get those Pelicans in the air! You are moving for New Mombasa! When you are one hour out you will be given specific orders,” a voice yelled over the cockpit radio. The pilot turned around and yelled,

“Marines, we’re deploying to New Mombasa! ETA two hours!”

“We’re moving to New Mombasa! Two hours, Marines!” Malkovich echoed.

“Two hours sitting in a Pelican? I’m going to regret this, I just know it,” Don muttered.

“Get over it, Don. You’ve had worse,” Malkovich replied.

“Yeah, in a drop pod. And that was only for thirty seconds. A Pelican may seem like paradise on a short trip, but two hours is going to be the very definition of torture,” Don stated. Malkovich smiled and grabbed a radio headset off the hull beside him. He switched the frequency to the local UNSC command network and listened carefully.

“The ship is moving into position above New Mombasa. I want the 405^th deployed ASAP,” a voice was saying.

“We’re already on it,” someone replied. Malkovich yawned and closed his eyes. Less than a minute later the intercom activated and the pilot said,

“Sergeant Malkovich, the LT wants you on the platoon net.”

Malkovich nodded and switched the frequency.

“You there, Sergeant?” Bennet asked.

“Yes sir. What is it, sir?” Malkovich asked.

“A single Covenant ship made it past our ships and MAC platforms. It has settled over New Mombasa. It is deploying forces as we speak. We are being deployed just outside New Mombasa to prepare to launch a counterattack,” Bennet replied.

“How’d it get through? Those MAC platforms should have torn it in half,” another squad commander noted.

“The Covenant destroyed two of the three platforms in the area. I don’t know how, all I know is that they did. That hole was big enough for the ship to slip through,” Bennet answered.

“How doesn’t matter,” Malkovich cut in. “All that matters is that the Covenant are attacking New Mombasa.”

“I agree with you there, Sergeant. Clear the net, people. Get your squads ready.” with that the lieutenant switched off his radio. Malkovich sighed and followed suit. It would be a long flight.

 

Chapter 1

Thirty kilometers east of New Mombasa

1600 hours, October 20, 2552

 

The Pelicans carrying A Company landed on an airstrip that was home to another seven Pelicans carrying more regular Marines.

“More regs. Not one Helljumper,” Don said as he stepped out of the Pelican.

“What’d you expect? It’s only a major city, no need for elite troops,” Gerard replied.

“Marines! Form up! Don’t go any further than two meters from this Pelican at any time!” Malkovich yelled. When the Marines piled out mumbling complains, Malkovich roared, “Cut your crying, Marines. Get over it.”

“Marines! We are being deployed to the city center as part of a counter attack! Mount up!” Bennet yelled from his Pelican.

“Let’s move, Marines! Get onboard now!” Malkovich ordered. The squad quickly got back into the seats they had just left. None dared to whisper a complaint. Less than a minute after landing, the Pelicans carrying A Company were back in the air.

 

By 1608 the Pelican was over the city, two minutes out from the drop zone. Malkovich could feel plasma bolts hitting the hull of the Pelican and asked the pilots what the situation was.

“A couple of plasma and beam rifles. No fuel rods. We’re not in any danger,” the co-pilot replied. Malkovich nodded his thanks and settled back in his seat.

“Well? What are we being hit by?” Corporal Leon Perez asked.

“Plasma rifles. Nothing major. Stupid Covies didn’t expect us,” Malkovich answered. Perez nodded and shifted his grip on his rifle.

“Calm down, Marine,” Malkovich said. “You’ll be fine.”

“Thirty seconds! Prepare to exit!” the pilot yelled. Malkovich stood and yelled,

“Marines, remember this: the difference between a hero and a coward is not whether you’re scared, it’s what you do while you’re scared. Fight hard, fight for the man next to you! Never give up, never stop fighting. You keep shooting, you’ll get through.”

“Ten seconds!” the pilot yelled. The Pelican shook as it suddenly came to a halt. Malkovich felt the plasma bolts hitting the Pelican double in intensity.

“Marines! Storm the gates of Hell!” Malkovich yelled. He leapt out of the cargo bay and entered the battlefield.

 

Malkovich’s Pelican had, along with Bennet’s, deployed at the bend of the road that led to the city center. About two hundred meters away from the Pelicans was the bridge that spanned the width of the road. The Marines would head straight there once off the Pelicans. At least, that was the plan.

 

As soon as the seven Pelicans stopped to offload their cargo, the Covenant opened fire. Bennet dropped from the cargo bay of his Pelican and was about to sprint for cover when a Jackal sniper shot him in the face. His head was ripped apart and he fell backwards into the Pelican. The other Marines in the Pelican ignored his remains and charged out of the transport. Three were cut down before they could move five meters. The others kept moving, returning fire wherever possible.

 

The rear Pelican roared towards the bridge and was coming to a halt when two Elites broke cover and opened fire with fuel rod cannons. Three rounds detonated inside the cargo bay, tearing apart the occupants before they could react. Only two of the Marines survived; one with both legs severed and the other with his chest torn open. Another eight rounds detonated against the right wing and cockpit of the Pelican, obliterating several key systems and killing the co-pilot. The pilot attempted to escape the area, but the Pelican had barely cleared the nearest rooftop when the engines cut off. The transport plummeted to the ground, where it exploded as it hit a building.

 

“S**t! Move for cover!” Malkovich yelled. He fired two bursts from his rifle, killing a Grunt. He sprinted for an abandoned car that seemed to have been hit by several bursts of plasma. He leapt the last meter, narrowly avoiding being decapitated by a Jackal sniper. He rose to a crouch and carefully peered around the side of the car, taking note of the situation. The rest of the company was on the ground and seeking cover while returning fire. Malkovich swore. If they kept this up they’d be pinned down and slaughtered. He looked around and saw a building at the end of the road. It would be the perfect location to use for defense. He took a deep breath and yelled,

“Gerard! On me!”

He saw Gerard empty his magazine then sprint towards him as he reloaded. Malkovich forced an Elite to take cover, then dropped back behind the car as Gerard dropped down beside him. Without wasting his breath with small talk, Malkovich grabbed Gerard’s radio and made sure it was switched on. As Gerard fired on the Covenant, Malkovich radioed,

“Banks, this is Malkovich. We need to get moving or we’ll be pinned down.”

“S**t,” came the simple reply. Malkovich heard a battle rifle fire in the background, followed by the roar of a dying Elite. Then Staff Sergeant Marcus Banks, the second in command of the company, came on the line saying, “I hear you. Building at the end of the road?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Wait one,” Malkovich replied. He glanced around, saw Perez and his fireteam, and then looked back up the road towards the building. He hit the PTT (Push to talk) button on the radio and said, “I’m gonna send a fireteam to secure that alleyway, then they’ll clear that building. I suggest you send a fireteam up your side of the road to help them with the building. Once it’s secure we’ll move the rest of the company to it.”

“Agreed. In five,” Banks said. The line went dead and Malkovich gave the radio back to Gerard. He then turned to face Perez and yelled,

“Perez! Collect your fireteam and get over here!”

Perez gathered the three men in his fireteam, then they sprinted over to Malkovich. Malkovich cut down an Elite, then took cover and said,

“Further up this road is an alleyway that the Covenant are no doubt using for their command unit. Take your fireteam and clear it, then secure the building at the end of the road. Sergeant Banks is sending one of his fireteams to secure the building as well. Once it’s secure the rest of the company will link up with you at the building. Understood?”

Perez nodded.

“Okay, go,” Malkovich ordered. He raised his battle rifle and yelled, “Covering fire!”

 

Perez didn’t look back. He just rose to his feet and ran as fast as he could towards the alleyway. When he reached it, he came to a halt and dropped to a knee. He opened fire on a group of Grunts as the rest of his fireteam entered the alleyway. When the last of them was in, Perez followed, not knowing what to expect. When he entered the alleyway, he was met with a gruesome sight. A gold Elite had shoved its sword through the chest of a Marine. It threw the Marine aside and charged at Perez as he and the other two surviving Marines opened fire. The Elite made it to within a meter of Perez before it toppled to the ground, its face and chest torn to pieces.

“Let’s keep moving, Marines,” Perez said, leading the fireteam further into the alleyway.

 

“Come on, come on,” Malkovich whispered. “Just clear the d***ed alleyway and secure the building. We’re sitting ducks out here.”

As if to punctuate Malkovich’s statement, a stream of plasma ripped through the car just centimeters from his face. He let out a curse and shot an unshielded Elite in the face. The alien’s head exploded and it simply dropped to the ground without making a sound. Malkovich glanced over at the alleyway and saw Perez’s fireteam, minus one man, break cover and head for the building. He looked over at the opposite side of the road and saw the second fireteam moving for the building’s front entrance.

“Hurry up, people. We can’t hold them off all day,” Malkovich muttered. He shot down two Grunts and then dropped behind cover to reload.

 

Perez stopped just short of the building’s entrance. He nodded the commander of the other fireteam, then all seven Marines charged inside, weapons up and at the ready. It took them two minutes to secure it. Perez and his fireteam took up defensive positions on the roof while the other fireteam covered the entrance. Perez killed an Elite standing on the bridge then radioed,

“Building secure. Move up.”

 

“About time,” Malkovich muttered. He reloaded his rifle then yelled, “Let’s move, Marines! Go, go, go!”

He then charged for the building, Gerard, Don, and the rest of the squad close behind. One of the Marines was hit in the face by a burst of plasma the second he broke cover. Don killed the Grunt that had shot the Marine, then kept moving. To stop was to die.

 

Perez cut down an Elite, then reloaded. He watched as the surviving Marines charged for the building. He winced as one was hit in the back of the head by a plasma burst. They’d lost a lot of Marines in the drop. Perez hoped they would survive the rest of the battle.

 

Malkovich reached the entrance to the building and stopped just inside. He opened fire, keeping a group of Covenant pinned down while the Marines moved inside. A Marine reached the door, then was hit in the back by five needler rounds. The needlers exploded a second later, blowing the Marine in half. Malkovich swore and shot down a Grunt. When the last of the Marines were inside the building, Malkovich and Don slammed the heavy steel doors shut. They were safe in the building.

 

In those four minutes, thirty Marines had been killed and ten seriously wounded. Once the Marines were all inside the building, the Covenant broke off the attack. Of the thirty combat-ready Marines, ten remained in the building. The other twenty split up, some moving into the alleyway Perez had secured earlier, others moving into other neighboring buildings. When the Covenant came back, they would pay for what they had done. The Marines had lost many of their comrades in arms. They would not let the Covenant get away with it.

 

Chapter 2

New Mombasa

1616 hours, October 20, 2552

 

At the stairwell directly in front of the building’s main entrance, a quiet but familiar sound reached the ears of the Marines.

“You hear that?” Perez asked quietly. Don nodded and said,

“Warthog. Heading this way.”

“Warthog inbound!” Perez yelled. Malkovich slowly walked over to the steel doors. He gripped the one on the right and prepared to open it once he had the all clear.

 

Banks saw the machine gunner beside him tense up.

“Ease up, Marine. It’s one of ours,” Banks said. The machine gunner nodded and loosened his grip on the trigger, but kept his eyes and barrel pointed towards the point where the road swung to the right and out of view of the building. Banks, the machine gunner, and two other Marines were on the roof of the building, where they had a clear view of the battle zone.

“Should be coming into view any second now,” Banks muttered. As if on cue, a Warthog roared into view and sped towards the building. Banks raised his rifle and scanned the vehicle. It had no gunner or passenger, but the turret guard was blood red in places. In the drivers seat was a Marine that appeared unharmed.

“Open the door!” Banks yelled. He heard the order repeated throughout the building and watched as the Warthog came to a stop outside the entrance. He saw Malkovich step outside to meet the driver.

 

“What happened?” Malkovich asked.

“I was in a defensive position about half a kilometer from here when the Covenant hit. We were overrun within ten minutes. My gunner was killed by a sniper, then both guys who replaced him were killed by Elites,” the driver replied. “I knew that if there was a counter attack troops would be deployed here, so I pulled out when the Covenant broke through our lines. I didn’t even look back to see if the Covenant assault was stopped, I just ran.”

“There was nothing you could do, Marine. I would have done the same,” Malkovich lied when he saw the Marine was about to break down. In his mind, Malkovich raged, you stupid idiot reg. You should have stayed behind and run over the Covies if necessary. F***ing coward.

“Yes sir,” the driver said. Malkovich activated his radio and said,

“Sergeant Banks, I suggest we give him a gunner and passenger. Then he can stay out here to hold off the Covenant.”

“Agreed. Jones, Cooper, move,” Banks replied. Two Marines that had taken up a position in a neighboring building moved out of cover and boarded the Warthog.

“Good luck,” Malkovich said before jogging back to the main building.

 

“Banks just radioed for reinforcements,” Don said as Malkovich returned to cover behind a small crate on top of the stairwell in front of the entrance. “UNSC forces are retaking the bridge, so we should get them within the next ten to fifteen minutes.”

“I don’t know if we can last that long. The Covenant are no doubt preparing to launch an assault on us,” Malkovich replied.

“Since when are you such a pessimist, Sarge?” Don joked.

“Since I got stuck with you in my squad, Don. All my optimism was shot to pieces once you were placed under my command,” Malkovich shot back.

“That’s low,” Don chuckled. He reached for his rocket launcher and made sure the rockets were loaded properly.

“Don’t fire that thing at the wall, Don. Rocket plus wall equals big boom. That’s bad, that makes people go boom,” Malkovich said, managing to keep a straight face.

“F**k you,” Don replied. Malkovich was about to say something when he heard a Marine yell,

“Contact! Twelve o’clock! Covenant infantry!”

“Malkovich, get that door open. Fire at will,” Banks radioed.

“Roger that,” Malkovich replied. He glanced at Don and said, “Keep me covered. Just don’t shoot me.”

Don didn’t smile. He just raised the rocket launcher and aimed it at the center of the doorway. Malkovich carefully opened both doors, then moved to the side into cover.

“Report,” Malkovich ordered.

“I see four Elites and seven Grunts. Nothing else. It’s a probe,” Don replied.

“Sergeant Banks, it’s a probing attack. I recommend holding back the Warthog,” Malkovich radioed. Banks agreed and gave the order for the Warthog to stay back at the building and the Marines to hold their fire.

“Save the rockets for vehicles, Don,” Malkovich ordered. Don rolled his eyes, as if to say “ya think?” Then he placed the rocket launcher against the wall and raised his battle rifle. Malkovich returned to his former position and prepared to fire.

 

The eleven Covenant moved cautiously up the road, watching out for any sign of the Human forces. Banks let them get to within ten meters of the bridge, then gave the order to take them down. Thirteen rifles immediately opened fire, slaughtering the Grunts and killing all but one Elite. The surviving Elite tried to run, but all thirteen rifles shot it in the head at the same time. The Elite’s remains hit the ground with a quiet thump. The Marines relaxed slightly. None of the Covenant had gotten the chance to radio a report to their commanders. The main Covenant force would be going in blind.

 

Chapter 3

New Mombasa

1618 hours, October 20, 2552

 

Two minutes after the recon force was neutralized, the Covenant attacked in force. The commander of the Covenant forces knew that the city center was a critical target, so two Wraiths, six Ghosts, and at least forty infantry were sent forward in the first wave. Another thirty infantry were held back in reserve. The Covenant plan was simple: overwhelm the Humans. Kill them at all costs.

 

“WRAITHS! TWELVE O’CLOCK!” the roof machine gunner yelled. Banks got onto the radio. He ordered the Warthog to get past the Wraiths. If they destroyed the Warthog, the battle was lost. The machine gunner gulped then yelled, “MULTIPLE GHOSTS AND INFANTRY BEHIND THE WRAITHS! ENGAGING!”

Banks winced as the machine gun opened fire right next to him. He stepped away and took cover. He ordered the Warthog to engage the Ghosts at close range. This would be a tough fight.

 

Malkovich slammed the heavy doors shut just as a plasma mortar detonated just short of them.

“Kill anything that comes through that door,” Malkovich ordered. Don and Perez nodded their understanding.

“What about the guys in the alley and other buildings?” Perez asked.

“They’ll be fine,” Malkovich replied. He didn’t regret lying to them. They needed hope.

 

There were four Marines stationed in the alleyway. All of them were in position behind a group of crates, ready to take down any Covenant that came into view. With their weapons aimed at the entrances to the alleyway, none of the Marines noticed a lone camouflaged Elite drop down from a roof and move into position, its energy sword at the ready. The first sign the Marines had that they were under attack was when a Marine holding a rocket launcher was suddenly ripped from view. A second later the rocket launcher hit the ground, followed by the Marine’s lifeless body, two holes in its chest. One of the Marines stood up and ran, but before he could take two steps his throat tore open seemingly of its own accord. Nearly decapitated, the Marine toppled to the ground into a pool of blood. The last two Marines fired at random, hoping to hit their attacker. One was thrown backwards, a huge gash in his stomach. A few seconds later the final Marine was impaled through the chest by the Elite’s energy sword. He was then thrown aside, and the Elite moved on, searching for more targets.

 

The Warthog shot past the two Wraiths before their drivers could open fire. The Wraiths ignored the Human vehicle, reasoning that the Ghosts would kill it in short order.

 

The Warthog’s gunner opened fire on the Ghosts before they were clear of the Wraiths. The .50 caliber bullets tore through the front of a Ghost and then shredded the pilot. The Ghost kept moving for another meter, then came to a halt. The Warthog kept moving, and the gunner blew the top half of a second Ghost’s pilot to pieces. The passenger fired five bursts from his battle rifle at a third Ghost. One of the bursts hit the pilot in the face, killing it instantly. The passenger let out a yell of victory just as a Ghost opened fire on the Warthog. Three of its plasma bolts tore into the passenger, nearly ripping him in half.

 

Malkovich heard a thud as another mortar detonated against the side of the building.

“We need reinforcements now,” he muttered.

“Open the door and I can take out one of the Wraiths before they know what hit them,” Don said, his finger tight on the rocket launcher’s trigger.

“Yeah, and what happens if there are a bunch of Covies on the other side of the door, Don? Just one grenade and we’re dead. If you get hit just before you fire, you’ll shoot the wall, and we’re dead. That door’s staying shut until the area’s secure,” Malkovich shot back. He saw that Don was getting frustrated, so he added, “Look, Don, I know you want to hit them back. But is it worth the risk? If you f**k up and get hit just as you pull the trigger, you’ll have made a mistake that one would expect from a reg, not a Helljumper.”

“Hooah,” Don replied quietly. He turned away from Malkovich, a disappointed look in his eyes. He wanted to hit back at the Covenant for what they’d done to the company, but Malkovich was right. He was thinking like a reg, not a Helljumper. He reprimanded himself for being so stupid.

 

“Bring it!” the Warthog’s gunner yelled as he neutralized another Ghost. He smiled when he saw the shredded remains of the Ghost’s pilot. It was payback time. He saw another Ghost move into position to fire at the Warthog. He began to swing the turret around, but he knew it was too late. He couldn’t shoot it in time. The gunner felt his stomach churn. This was not how he wanted to die.

 

A second before the Ghost fired, it was hit in the side by a 25mm high-density shell that detonated on impact. The pilot was blown to pieces and the Ghost sent flying two meters before its remains came to a rest on the ground. About two seconds later the M12G1 Gauss Warthog that had fired the round burst out of a building and onto the street, shooting down another Ghost in the process. Its driver was a regular Marine; the gunner was Spartan 117. A Company’s reinforcements had arrived.

 

Malkovich heard a series of low thumps coming from outside. The sound was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Don, however, did.

“Gauss Warthogs. Reinforcements are here,” Don said.

“Do I open the door?” Perez asked.

“Negative. Not until we know that the area’s secure,” Malkovich replied. He smiled. It was nearly over.

 

The two Warthogs destroyed the last of the Ghosts, then focused their attention on the two Wraiths, ignoring the Covenant infantry, most of which had retreated after seeing the Ghosts destroyed. The Gauss Warthog stayed back, engaging the Wraiths from a distance. The other Warthog, however, sped forward and opened fire. The Wraith on the left side of the road swung around and fired a single mortar, which slammed into the Warthog and detonated. The Warthog was turned into an expanding ball of fire and shrapnel. The two Marines in it simply ceased to exist. They did not die in vain. The Wraith had given the Gauss Warthog a better target, and it took the opportunity. Three rounds from the cannon detonated against the pilot compartment, killing the Elite. The second Wraith swung around, only to face a barrage of fire from the Gauss Warthog. The cannon rounds impacted against the pilot compartment as well as the main cannon just as it was charging for a shot at the Warthog. The forming plasma detonated, blowing the Wraith apart.

 

“Both Wraiths are down. Area is secure,” Malkovich heard over his radio.

“Roger that,” Malkovich replied. He turned to Perez and ordered, “Open the door.”

Perez nodded and moved to open both doors just as the radio squawked,

“Phantom inbound! Carrying two Ghosts!”

“S**t! Perez, get back!” Malkovich yelled. Perez took cover beside the door.

“Why?” Perez asked.

“A Phantom’s moving into position with Ghosts,” Malkovich replied. Perez nodded his understanding.

 

The Phantom came to a hover just above the road, its cannons forcing the Gauss Warthog to keep moving, making it difficult for the Chief to get a clear shot at the Ghosts. When the Covenant assault vehicles were deployed, the Phantom broke away. The Ghosts moved to engage the Warthog, but were quickly destroyed.

 

“They’re down. Open it,” Malkovich ordered.

“You sure this time?” Perez asked sarcastically. Malkovich glared at him. Perez turned away and opened the door, revealing the Master Chief. Malkovich refrained from standing at attention. It wasn’t because of a lack of respect; it was because Malkovich didn’t want to become a target for a Covenant sniper outside. Perez, however, stood tall and said,

“Sir! Corporal Perez, A Company. CP’s this way.”

Perez led the Chief past the two ODSTs, who kept their attention focused outside. However, Malkovich listened in to Perez via his radio.

“The lieutenant got hit as soon as we dropped in,” Perez was saying.

“Who’s in charge now, Corporal?” came the familiar voice of Cortana. Malkovich had had a feeling that she would be in the Chief’s amour.

“Sergeant Banks, ma’am. He’s up top. Come on, I’ll show you,” Perez replied. He led the Chief on towards the roof.

“Should we follow them?” Don asked.

“I will. You stay here,” Malkovich replied. Don nodded, masking his disappointment.

 

Malkovich reached the roof as Banks was saying,

“When I asked for reinforcements, I didn’t think they’d send a Spartan.”

Malkovich watched as a Pelican dropped off a Scorpion main battle tank on the bridge across the street. He saw a Scarab come into view on the opposite side of the street.

“We’ve got trouble,” the machine gunner beside Banks said. The Scarab opened fire with its main cannon. The beam hit the Scorpion at the base of the turret, detonating the rounds stored inside. The tank exploded in a ball of fire.

“F**k,” Malkovich muttered. The Scarab advanced towards the building but did not fire.

“I don’t think it’s stopping. Keep your heads down,” Banks said. Malkovich swore again as the Scarab simply climbed over the building and kept moving. He took a deep breath and glanced over at Banks, who nodded and said,

“Marines, time to kill us a Scarab.”

 

Chapter 4

New Mombasa

1623 hours, October 20, 2552

 

“Perez, move down to the main entrance,” Malkovich ordered. Perez nodded and did so. Malkovich then radioed, “Don, the roof. Move.”

Less than a minute later Don reached Malkovich and asked,

“We taking down the Scarab?”

“Nope. We’re staying here on the roof in case there is another attack,” Malkovich replied.

“You’re kidding me, right?” Don asked, his anger clear on his face.

“I’m not, Don. This is what we’re doing, whether we like it or not. Now, get your launcher aimed up the road and stop your whining, Marine,” Malkovich said. Don muttered a curse and did as he was ordered.

“This is s**t,” Don said loud enough for Malkovich to hear.

“Tell me about it,” Malkovich replied. In the near distance they heard rocket launchers firing.

“How long do you think it’ll take the Chief to kill it?” Don asked.

“Oh, three minutes?” Malkovich replied.

“I say five,” Don said. “One week’s pay.”

“F**k off, my friend. This is a war zone, I don’t do bets in war zones,” Malkovich said. Don chuckled and turned back to the road. Then he heard several large explosions in the distance.

“Scratch one Scarab,” Banks radioed.

“F**king good for them,” Don muttered. Malkovich yawned then heard Sergeant Major Johnson radio,

“That’s right, you mothers. Run!”

Malkovich looked up and in the distance he could see multiple Phantoms retreating to the Covenant carrier. He heard Commander Miranda Keyes reply,

“Not if we can help it, Sergeant. Extract your men and return to In Amber Clad.”

“Hey, Don. We’re being extracted. Covies are retreating,” Malkovich said.

“I heard, Sarge. About d***ed time,” Don replied. He stood up and lowered the rocket launcher. “When’s the Pelican getting here?”

“How the hell should I know?” Malkovich chuckled.

“Well, you’re the sergeant, Sergeant,” Don shot back.

“I’d say about an hour, you idiot,” Malkovich replied when he saw a Pelican heading for their position. Don turned around and saw the Pelican. He shook his head and muttered something Malkovich didn’t quite understand. The Pelican came to a hover on the roof several meters from Don and Malkovich.

“Marines, to the roof. Move out,” Malkovich radioed. Within a minute the Marines inside the building had formed up on the roof, awaiting the order from Malkovich to board the Pelican.

“On the Pelican, Marines,” Malkovich ordered. Gerard followed Malkovich and Don onto the Pelican and took up position in a seat opposite Malkovich. The Pelican rose into the air and headed towards the In Amber Clad. For the entire flight Gerard stared into infinity, his eyes focused on the Pelican’s hull just above Malkovich’s head. It had been his first time in combat, and he’d seen a lot of comrades cut down by the Covenant. He needed time to get over it. Malkovich would gladly give him the time.

 

Soon after the Pelicans docked inside the In Amber Clad, the Covenant carrier moved to jump into slipspace. The Human frigate followed it through just before the force exerted by the jump obliterated the city of New Mombasa. The city A Company had sacrificed so much for was now a shattered wasteland.

 

Chapter 5

In Amber Clad, Slipspace, unknown vector

1633 hours, October 20, 2552

 

“Hell of a fight, eh?” Perez glanced up from his table in the mess hall to see Don standing beside him.

“Yeah,” Perez replied, looking back down at his food. Don sat down across at him and asked,

“Your first battle?”

“Yeah,” Perez said quietly.

“Hey, Marine. Don’t worry. We’ll hit ‘em back. They’re gonna pay for what they did,” Don told him. Perez nodded, paused for a second, then said,

“Hey, can I ask you something?”

Don nodded and Perez asked,

“What’s with Malkovich’s attitude towards us regs? It’s more than inter-service rivalry, I can see that much.”

Don took a breath then said,

“About two months ago Malkovich and I were ordered, along with the rest of our platoon, to relieve a regular Marine platoon pinned down on a colony by Covenant forces. We fought four ten minutes to get through the Covie lines. We lost six men to get to the Marines. We radioed the Marines and informed them that we were about to break cover on their left flank. They acknowledged and gave us permission to go ahead. So we step out of cover.” Don paused and Perez watched him grind his jaw before continuing. “Those stupid idiot regs opened fire immediately. Seven of our men were killed outright. Three more were horrifically wounded, none of them survived. If I hadn’t stopped him, Malkovich would have shot the platoon commander in the face.”

Perez nodded his understanding. Don finished the explanation by saying,

“If you piss off Malkovich, you need to do something drastic to regain his respect. In his eyes the regular Marine Corps hasn’t done anything to regain his trust. Although I think you may have gained some of his respect today. You did well.”

Perez nodded again and looked up when he saw the Chief enter the mess hall. He looked over at Don and asked,

“What about the Chief? He killed ODSTs as well.”

“Yeah. But he also wiped out an entire Covenant armada, among other things. He has Malkovich’s respect and trust. He made up for what he did,” Don answered. Perez was about to say something when Malkovich entered the mess hall.

“Dining with the regs, Don?” Malkovich asked, a smile on his face.

“Oh, yeah. Only spot available,” Don replied. He winked at Perez and then said, “So, Sarge, what do you think of the regs’ performance today?”

Malkovich paused for a moment, remembering the time that the regs had killed his fellow ODSTs. Then he thought about the battle in New Mombasa. He smiled and said,

“You did well, Perez. So did the rest of your unit. Good work.”

Perez didn’t know it, but it was the first time Malkovich had ever spoken such praise about a non-Special Forces unit.

 

Private Francis ‘Frankie’ Bacon looked around the mess hall and let out a deep breath. Stupid motherf***er. The thought echoed through his mind. He’d seen half of his ten-man squad killed today. An Elite had shot down a corporal, and a good friend of his had gone crazy. He’d broke cover, ignoring his most basic ODST training, and began shooting everything in sight. He’d run straight at the Covenant, even when two Ghosts had come into view. Three more ODSTs had charged over to grab him. One was shot to pieces by a Ghost’s cannon, while the other two grabbed the Marine and began dragging him back to cover, ignoring his protests. But one of the Ghosts had boosted forward, slicing through the three soldiers like a knife through hot butter. Bacon would never shake the image of the three Marines cut in half, their remains scattered over the street. Stupid motherf***er.

 

“So where are you from, Perez?” Don asked.

“A small town in Cuba. Grew up in the slums, volunteered for the Corps as soon as I was old enough. Now I regret that,” Perez replied.

“You shouldn’t. At least in the Corps you can fight for Humanity. In Cuba you wouldn’t have stood a chance,” Don said. Perez absorbed Don’s words and then said,

“Where are you from, sir?”

“I’m not sir. I’m no officer,” Don replied sarcastically, mimicking Malkovich’s voice. Malkovich just smiled and didn’t comment. Don then continued, “A large town in Sicily.”

Perez nodded. Don glanced around in an exaggerated motion of making sure no one was listening. Then he leaned across the table and whispered,

“The Family is watching constantly.”

“You’re Mafia?” Perez asked. Don whispered back,

“Not so loud. To answer your question, let me say this: Never get on my bad side, or else you may find yourself in death’s sweet embrace within a day.”

Then he sat back, laughing at Perez’s worried expression. A smile was spreading on Malkovich’s face when suddenly a voice announced over the PA speaker system,

“Dropping from slip space in five. Combat stations.”

The war was back.

 

Chapter 6

In Amber Clad, unknown location

1634 hours, October 20, 2552

 

Malkovich stood without ceremony, his chair nearly tipping over. He nodded at Don and the two of them left the mess hall at a quick run heading for the nearest armory. Perez followed close behind. They were just two corridors from the armory when four helmetless ODSTs appeared, heading the same way.

“Careful, moron,” one of the ODSTs said when Malkovich nearly ran into him. Malkovich glared at the ODST with such intensity that Perez thought he was going to attack him. Then Malkovich smiled and said,

“What the hell are you doing here, Sanchez?”

“Half the platoon is on the ship, Sarge. Us and Jackson’s squad,” the ODST replied. He glanced at Malkovich’s uniform and said, “Still mixing with the regs, I see.”

“Shut it, Corporal,” Malkovich replied. He turned to Perez and said, “Corporal Perez, Corporal Li Sanchez. He’s my sniper.”

“Hey, guys, I appreciate the reunion, but we need to move,” Don interrupted.

“Stupid Mafia wannabe,” Sanchez greeted. Don raised his middle finger at Sanchez and chuckled.

“Like she said, let’s move, people,” Malkovich said. He pushed past Sanchez, ignoring his humored glare.

 

When they reached the armory, Malkovich grabbed a battle rifle, pistol, clips, and six grenades. He was stuffing the clips and grenades onto his ammunition belt when Sanchez said,

“By the way, Sergeant Johnson informed me that you are longer stuck with the regs. You’re a Helljumper squad leader again.”

Malkovich smiled and said,

“Incorrect, Sanchez. I’m a Night Stalker again.”

“Amen to that,” Don said. He smiled, then said, “Well, where’s the nearest Helljumper suit?”

Sanchez pointed across the corridor to a shower room. Malkovich and Don entered it, then emerged three minutes later in full ODST combat gear, with the helmets held in their arms.

“Perez, get to your company,” Malkovich ordered. Perez nodded and jogged away. Malkovich turned to Sanchez and asked, “Where are we assigned?”

“The ship has drop pods. Follow me,” Sanchez replied. While Don and Malkovich had been changing into ODST gear, four more ODSTs had come to the armory. Malkovich recognised all but two.

“Newbies, eh?” he asked.

“Private Parker Richins, machine gunner,” one of them said.

“Never would have guessed,” Malkovich said sarcastically, glancing at the machine gun Richins was holding.

“Private Francis Bacon. Combat engineer,” the second reported.

“Do you know what happened to our last engineer?” Don asked.

“No sir,” Bacon replied. He stopped outside the door to the drop pod bay and asked, “What happened?”

“He was setting up a defensive position when we all heard a loud crash. When we investigated, we found that he’d been crushed by a concrete block he and another Marine were moving into position,” Don replied. Bacon shuddered. The lights dimmed as power was diverted to the Shaw-Fujikawa translight drive’s particle accelerator and the ship transitioned back to normal space. Don was about to say something more about the last engineer when Malkovich interrupted and said,

“You’ll want to see this.”

 

“The hell?” Don muttered. There was a large viewscreen in the drop pod bay. It showed an image of some sort of construct of a ring. Don heard Keyes radio,

“What exactly am I looking at?”

“That is another Halo ring,” Cortana replied.

“S**t,” Malkovich whispered. He knew about the first Halo ring. Hell, everyone knew about the first Halo ring.

“Prepare for battle, Night Stalkers. We’re going in,” Malkovich said.

“Anytime, anywhere,” Sanchez replied with a smile.

“Sergeant?” it was Gerard. He handed Malkovich the radio microphone and said, “It’s Sergeant Major Johnson.”

Malkovich took the microphone and said,

“Sir?”

“Malkovich, your squad will not be deploying via drop pod. Get to the hangar bay,” came the reply.

“Yes sir,” Malkovich replied. He handed the radio back to Gerard then yelled,

“Night Stalkers, hangar bay! We’re deploying via Pelican.”

 

Richins watched as Malkovich led the squad towards the hangar. He could get used to having him as the squad leader. He seemed to be a good leader. Richins just hoped that that would still be the case in a combat situation.

 

Chapter 7

In Amber Clad, Delta Halo

1640 hours, October 20, 2552

 

“What do you think our orders are gonna be, Sarge?” Richins asked. Malkovich glanced over at him and replied,

“I have no idea. Probably going to be ordered to secure an LZ for future operations on the ring.”

“Why not take the drop pods then?” Richins asked next.

“They don’t want to risk losing half of us in the insertion,” Don cut in. Malkovich nodded his agreement. He turned a corner and entered the hangar bay. The area was huge, and in Malkovich’s eyes looked big enough to hold more than the seven Pelicans and two Albatross heavy transports stationed on the ship. Standing just inside the entrance to the bay was Sergeant Major Johnson.

“Malkovich,” Johnson greeted.

“Sir,” Malkovich replied. Neither of them offered a salute. This wasn’t the time for formalities, not that they would have exchanged salutes if it was the time. They both avoided regular military protocol as much as possible.

“Sir, why aren’t we dropping in?” Don asked.

“The Chief and Sergeant Jackson’s squad are dropping in to try and capture the Prophet,” Johnson replied. “Malkovich, your squad and a reg platoon are going to be inserted via Pelican to a location several kilometers from the Chief’s landing zone. You are to dig in and distract the Covenant for as long as possible while the Chief pursues his objective. Once his mission is complete, you will be extracted.”

“You’ve got to be kidding. More regs plus a suicide mission,” Don muttered.

“I hear you, Marine. But you don’t have a choice,” Johnson replied. “Now, mount up. The regs are already in position. Malkovich, you have command of the forces on the ground. As soon as you’re onboard, the Pelicans are leaving for the insertion point. Good luck.”

With that, Johnson boarded a Pelican that was separate from the five designated for this operation.

“Let’s move, Night Stalkers,” Malkovich ordered. He led the way to the nearest Pelican.

 

He didn’t even put up a fight! It’s a suicide mission, and he knows it, yet he just went along with it! B*****d! Bacon seethed with fury. He knew that Malkovich had no choice in the matter, but the least he could do was fight against it. In the six minutes since he’d met Malkovich, Bacon had begun to hate the man. He was too familiar with his men. He hadn’t even battered an eye when Sanchez had called him a moron. Bacon liked a commander who mixed with his men, but in his opinion Malkovich was taking it too far. Not to mention it seemed like he didn’t have the guts to stand for what was good for the squad. B*****d.

 

Malkovich looked over a map of the insertion zone that the Pelican pilot had given him. The map was a hard copy of a surface scan conducted by the In Amber Clad several minutes ago. There were no structures that his men could take cover in, only a few hills and rock outcroppings. Other than those, it was a flat grassy plain. Though he didn’t say anything out loud, Malkovich thought that whoever had chosen the insertion zone was a blind idiot. Anyone with eyes and half a brain could figure out that it was suicide to deploy troops there. Malkovich activated his private intercom with the pilots and asked,

“Have you guys even seen this insertion zone?”

“Indeed we have,” the co pilot replied.

“And you’re gonna drop us there? It’s suicide,” Malkovich kept his voice low so no one else in the Pelican could hear him.

“We know, Sergeant. And whether Johnson and Keyes like it or not, we’re not deploying you there. Just two kilometers from the insertion point is a better defensive position. It’s a large mountain with plenty of natural cover. The drawback is that it’s closer to the Covenant forces,” the co pilot answered.

“Do it,” Malkovich replied. The Pelican’s cargo bay hatch shut and the transport jerked forward as it left the ship.

 

Chapter 8

Insertion Zone, Delta Halo

1645 hours, October 20, 2552

 

The five Pelicans hovered around the mountain pointed outwards, their rocket pods at the ready. There was one on each side, with the fifth hovering above the top. The Marines piled out and immediately took up defensive positions, with the Night Stalkers dropping out of the fifth Pelican. Their mission complete, four of the Pelicans left to return to the In Amber Clad. The fifth stayed in position. In another breach of orders, it would provide air support for the Marines.

 

“Gotta love the flyboys,” Don commented.

“Oh, yeah. Too bad they couldn’t have just outright refused the mission,” Bacon replied.

“Shut it, Private,” Malkovich snapped. “Keep your eyes open. Do not fire until I give the order.”

He said the last two sentences with his radio activated so the regs would also hear him. He then said,

“Aerial, wake ‘em up.”

“Understood. Firing,” came the reply. The orbiting Pelican fired two rockets in the general direction of the nearest Covenant forces.

 

Though the Marines didn’t know it, the Pelican’s aiming was dead on. The two rockets slammed into a group of Ghosts moving to investigate reports of Human activity. The Ghost one the far right side of the group was blown apart and its remains thrown across the ground. The second rocket hit short of the Ghost on the right side of the group. Though it wasn’t caught in the fireball itself, the shock wave from the detonation slammed the Ghost into the one beside it, forcing it to crash into a third. The driver of the first Ghost had been shredded by the shock wave, and the wing of the first Ghost had crushed the driver of the second. The driver of the third Ghost survived and was thrown clear of his vehicle when it collided with the second. When it was sure that there were no more incoming rockets, the Grunt accessed the Covenant Battle Net via his Ghost and reported the attack.

 

The mission was going perfectly.

 

“Doesn’t look like we hit anything,” the Pelican pilot radioed, oblivious to the chaos caused by the rockets.

“Well, at the very least they should have heard it,” Malkovich replied. “Keep sharp, Marines.”

He heard a mumble from a voice he didn’t recognize, obviously a reg.

“You got a problem, Marine?” Malkovich asked angrily. There was a risk of being hit by a sizable Covenant force at any time. He didn’t have the patience to put up with sarcasm or complaints. There was no reply to his question, so he shifted his concentration back to looking for Covenant.

 

The Covenant were already assembling a force to destroy the Human force that had attacked the Ghosts. The Elite in command of the local forces quickly determined the most likely location of the Humans and what forces he would need to take it from them. He had a sizable force under his command because of Regret’s presence and the fact that they were on one of the sacred rings. The Humans would not get away with their violation of holy ground.

 

“This is stupid,” Bacon said. “We shouldn’t be sitting here waiting for the Covenant to come to us. We should hit them first. Or just get the hell out here.”

“Quiet, Marine,” Malkovich said firmly. He didn’t try to hide his frustration. “You think I like the mission?”

“Well, you didn’t do much to get out of it, did you?” Bacon shot back. He didn’t read Malkovich’s blank expression for what it really was. He was sick of keeping his feelings hidden.

“What was that supposed to mean?” Malkovich asked slowly and quietly. Don shifted nervously and his body tensed. He had only seen Malkovich rise to anywhere near this level of anger once before, and that was after the friendly fire incident. He knew better than to intervene unless to stop Malkovich from severely injuring Bacon.

“You knew it would be a suicide mission, but you never debated with Johnson. You just went along with it like you didn’t care,” Bacon paused, then spat, “Like a coward.”

Two seconds later Malkovich’s knife had pierced Bacon’s visor and was resting a millimeter from his right eye, a direct path to his brain.

 

Chapter 9

Insertion Zone, Delta Halo

1646 hours, October 20, 2552

 

“Oh, f**k!” Don swore. He grabbed Bacon by the shoulders and tossed him backwards onto the ground before Malkovich let his anger completely take over. Then he gently grabbed Malkovich’s wrist and said,

“Calm down, Sarge. Put the knife away.”

Malkovich nodded, put the knife back in its sheath, then said,

“If you ever call me a coward again I will kill you, you f**khead.”

“I hate to interrupt your party, guys, but I have Covenant forces inbound,” Sanchez radioed from his position. “One Wraith, multiple Grunts and Elites. Platoon size.”

“Hold fire. No one fire,” Malkovich radioed. He raised his battle rifle and then said to Bacon, “What you doing, Marine? Get back into position.”

Bacon muttered a curse and moved into position, his assault rifle at the ready.

 

Sanchez watched as the Covenant forces advanced unopposed. He hoped they didn’t notice the Pelican. It was settled just above the ground on the opposite side of the mountain, awaiting Malkovich’s order to attack. Sanchez blinked his eyes and returned his focus to the Covenant. He took aim at the skull of an Elite holding an energy sword. When Malkovich gave the order to fire, it would be Sanchez’s first target.

“Covenant still advancing. Distance is about two clicks,” Sanchez radioed.

“Aerial, spook them,” Sanchez heard Malkovich radio. “Sanchez, once the Pelican’s shots hit, fire off a mag. Everyone else, hold your fire.”

Sanchez heard the Pelican rise into the air, then felt a gust of air blow past above his head. The Wraith shuddered then exploded as the missile blew it apart. Sanchez pulled his rifle’s trigger and the sword-wielding Elite’s head exploded into a purple mist. He switched targets and shot a Grunt in the throat. An Elite roared as Sanchez put a bullet through its chest, knocking it to the ground and severing several arteries as well as obliterating major organs. Sanchez fired a fourth round that missed its target but obliterated a Grunt’s skull. Then he reloaded and awaited further orders.

 

“Well, they know we’re here,” Richins muttered. He pulled the stock of his machine gun into his shoulder so it fit comfortably and released the safety. His finger tightened on the trigger. He was ready. All he needed was the order to fire.

 

He’ll mess this up. He’ll make a mistake and we’ll all get overrun. Bacon couldn’t shake the thought. Malkovich had been a coward and now they’d all suffer because of his weakness. Bacon tried to get the thought out of his head but he couldn’t. He kept the rifle aimed towards the Covenant and waited for Malkovich to give the order to open fire. Coward or not, Malkovich was the squad leader. Bacon would follow his orders unless he knew for sure they would lead to his death.

 

“Sanchez, distance?” Malkovich replied.

“One click. Give them one minute and they’ll be in range,” came the reply.

“Understood,” Malkovich said. He saw the Night Stalkers tense even further. He trusted them to do their job. Except for Richins and Bacon, Malkovich knew all of them well and trusted them with his life. Richins seemed okay, but this battle would reveal just how good a soldier he was. As for Bacon, well, he’d already proven to be about as trustworthy as a Grunt.

“Distance is seven hundred meters,” Sanchez reported. Malkovich let out a deep breath then radioed,

“Marines, open fire. Give ‘em hell.”

 

Chapter 10

Insertion Point, Delta Halo

1648 hours, October 20, 2552

 

Sanchez squeezed off a round, throwing an Elite to the dirt. He lined up another target and was about to fire when the Elite was torn limb from limb by a machine gun burst. A line of Grunts, Sanchez’s next priority, was then raked by the same machine gun. What had been a group of five aliens was now five square meters of blood and shattered flesh.

 

Richins shifted fire after mowing down the Grunts and forced an Elite to drop to the ground for cover. Before Richins could put a burst into it, there was the loud crack of a sniper rifle and a purple-white cloud appeared where the alien’s head used to be. Richins smiled. He didn’t care that he hadn’t gotten the kill. A dead alien was a dead alien, and one less that would be trying to kill him.

 

The Pelican stayed behind cover. It would not reveal itself until Malkovich requested air support. He didn’t want the Pelican to be destroyed in a small-scale infantry battle, not when there was undoubtedly more Covenant armour to be deployed.

 

Sanchez began selecting his targets more carefully now that the targets had lessened. He was becoming frustrated. Too many times he had chosen a target just as it had been cut down by someone else. Sanchez was not without a sense of pride, and this was killing it. Once again he aimed at the forehead of an Elite and was about to pull the trigger when a ragged purple line appeared along its waist and it was cut in two by the 5.56mm bullets of a machine gun.

“Come on. Give me a break,” Sanchez muttered.

 

Richins spotted another group of Grunts and opened fire. Blue blood flew through the air as the aliens were cut to pieces.

“Bring it!” he yelled. He took cover and began to reload. He had just finished reloading and was in the process of moving his weapon back into position when Malkovich radioed,

“Cease fire!”

Richins put his machine gun back onto the rock he had been using to keep it level and looked across the battlefield. What had once been a grassy plain was now a field of shattered bodies. The occasional alien tried to get up and run but was decapitated by a sniper before it could get far. Richins smiled. He had survived his first battle. He had passed the test. He was a Night Stalker.

 

That was luck. It won’t happen again. Bacon thought. It had only been a small Covenant force, and they had been taken by surprise. It would not happen again, and Bacon knew it. The next force would be more prepared and would be larger. Malkovich would not beat them so easily.

 

“Next time it won’t be so easy,” Don noted, unknowingly echoing Bacon’s thoughts.

“I know. They know we’re here now. That was a probe. The next attack will be an all out assault,” Malkovich replied. “But we’re ready.”

“What about Bacon?” Don asked. Malkovich spat into the dirt then said,

“That scum can go f**k himself for all I care. He may be good in combat, but he’s a liability. Either the Covenant are going to kill him or I will.”

“He doesn’t trust you,” Don said unnecessarily.

“The feeling’s mutual,” Malkovich replied. “If I didn’t need every man here, even the f**kheads, I’d send him out there to collect Covenant weapons, then pray that the Covenant would attack at that moment.”

“Attitude, Sarge,” Don smiled.

“Shut up, Don. I’m being dead serious. That man’s going to get us killed.” Malkovich turned away from Don and let out a breath before saying, “The first sign he gives that he’s planning something rash, I’ll either kill or incapacitate him. It’s as simple as that.”

Don nodded and turned away. He was truly scared now. The new guy was threatening the stability of the squad, the squad commander was considering killing him, and Don was stuck in the middle. What do I do? Don asked himself. Who do I protect? The new guy that I barely know, or the squad commander who just happens to be my best friend? Which is the best thing for the squad? F**k.

Don made his decision. And he prayed he would never have to act out on what he had decided.

 

Chapter 11

Insertion Point, Delta Halo

1650 hours, October 20, 2552

 

Sanchez was, for the most part, oblivious to what was happening between the rest of the Night Stalkers. He’d heard some kind of confrontation just before the Covenant attack, but he didn’t know the specifics. He didn’t really care about specifics. It was probably that new guy, Bacon. Sanchez had never trusted him. He had a stubborn streak in him that Sanchez had immediately recognised as a threat to the survival of the squad. Bacon hadn’t been in real intense combat yet, and Sanchez wasn’t sure he wanted to be in the same unit as Bacon when he did.

 

A regular Marine sniper on the side of the mountain facing away from the ruins of the Covenant force yawned and lowered his rifle. He rubbed his eyes and muttered a curse. He was sick of sitting around waiting for the Covenant to attack. He’d heard the engagement earlier and hated the ODSTs. They’d gotten to kill the aliens, but he hadn’t. He glanced over at the Pelican, which was facing away from him. He yawned again and pulled his rifle to his shoulder. He didn’t hear several stones drop off the ledge below him. He just kept watching out for aliens. Then something tightened around his throat and everything went black.

 

The Pelican hovered about a meter off the ground facing away from the mountain. The only people on board were the pilot and co-pilot. The pilot was watching out for Covenant while the co-pilot slept and awaited his turn to keep watch. The co-pilot dreamt of lying on a cool beach back on Earth, sipping a margarita and letting the day speed by. A smile spread on his relaxed face. His dream changed suddenly. It was raining. He felt rain splattering across his body. Some landed in his mouth. It tasted like blood. Then his dream faded into black and he entered oblivion’s grip.

 

There were only four snipers on the mountain including Sanchez. The one on the west side was wide awake, hoping to be the first on his side of the mountain to kill a Covie. He’d be able to brag about that for his whole life. He, the guy voted most useless in battle by his squad, would get the first kill, not that stupid arrogant machine gunner. He smiled at the thought. He saw movement not too far away and turned to face it, thinking it was the squad leader checking up on him.

“Yo, Sarge, how-”

His lifeless body slumped to the ground a second later.

 

Sanchez saw movement on the battlefield. It was a Grunt that he had thought to be dead. The alien leapt to its feet and ran in the direction it had come. Sanchez took aim and fired. The Grunt was thrown to the ground, its methane tank and head blown in half. Sanchez shook his head. When would they learn that to move was to die? He shook his head in disgust.

 

Then the Pelican exploded.

 

Chapter 12

Insertion Point, Delta Halo

1652 hours, October 20, 2552

 

“Snipers, report in,” Sanchez radioed.

“Sniper Two, no contacts.” Sanchez waited, but there no more replies.

“Snipers Three and Four, report in,” Sanchez ordered. Once again there was no reply. Sanchez muttered a curse and radioed, “1^st and 3^rd squads, check your snipers.”

A minute later the two squads reported back. 1^st squad’s sniper had a crushed throat; 3^rd squad’s was nearly decapitated. Both had been dead for less than five minutes.

“Sarge, we’ve lost two of our snipers. Killed from close range. I recommend checking up on the Pelican,” Sanchez radioed. Malkovich muttered a curse in acknowledgement then radioed, “Aerial, report in.”

No reply. Sanchez swore loudly. He heard Malkovich radio,

“1^st squad, check on the Pelican ASAP.”

 

A private armed with an SMG was selected to check the pilots’ status. He climbed on board the Pelican-it was still a meter off the ground-and opened the cockpit door. He froze and nearly vomited at what he saw inside. The cockpit window had been shattered, as if it had been shot out. The pilot’s head had been cleanly cut off above the neck and the co-pilot was torn virtually in half, as if someone had taken a sword and killed them both in one swing. Something else caught the private’s eye. It was beneath the co-pilot’s seat. He heard a sniper rifle fire a single shot in the distance as he knelt down to take a look at the object. It looked like an armed-

 

The explosive detonated with stunning force. The explosion obliterated the Pelican forward of the wings. The combined force of the shockwave and ignited fuel ripped the remains of the Pelican to pieces, showering the side of the mountain with a deadly rain of shrapnel that killed four Marines.

 

The Marines had just lost their main advantage over the Covenant.

 

The suddenness of the explosion made Sanchez involuntarily tighten his fingers. The rifle discharged and a purple liquid sprayed across a nearby rock. Sanchez instinctively dropped his rifle and scrambled backwards as an Elite decloaked and dropped to a knee, its left leg nearly blown off beneath the knee. Sanchez unsheathed his foot-long combat knife and plunged it into the Elite’s skull. The knife drove down into the alien up to its hilt. Sanchez retrieved the knife and the lifeless corpse hit the ground with a quiet thump.

 

Chapter 13

Insertion Point, Delta Halo

1653

 

“S**t! What the hell was that?” Malkovich yelled when he heard the explosion. He heard a sniper rifle fire, so he glanced over at the battlefield. There was no movement.

“All squads, report in,” Malkovich radioed.

“2^nd squad. Secure.”

“3^rd squad. Clear.”

“1^st squad. F***ing Pelican just blew up, no sign of any hostile activity. I lost five of my men.”

“Oh, s**t,” Don muttered.

“Stay sharp, Marines!” Malkovich ordered. He didn’t consider radioing the In Amber Clad. As far as they were concerned, the Pelican had been destroyed when the Marines had been inserted. Instead he let out a breath. He swore quietly. Without the Pelican, they were easy targets for the next Covenant attack.

 

The commander of 1^st squad watched as his men collected the four Marines killed by shrapnel. The Covenant would pay for this. The sergeant vowed to himself that he would make sure of it. He saw the sun glint off something in the distance. He raised a pair of binoculars and swore at what he saw. He grabbed his radio to inform Malkovich, but before he could do so a beam rifle fired, blowing the top of the sergeant’s skull clean off, killing him instantly.

 

“Holy s**t!” Covenant forces are inbound, battalion size at the least. South side!” Malkovich let out a curse as the radio squawked the message. They would have had a hard time neutralizing a Covenant battalion with the Pelican in support, let alone without it. This time Malkovich switched frequency to the one designated for contacting the In Amber Clad and said,

“In Amber Clad, this is Night Stalker. We have a Covenant battalion inbound on our position. We need air support now.”

“Understood, Night Stalker. We’ll get support to you as soon as possible.” came the reply. Malkovich acknowledged the reply then switched to his platoon’s frequency and radioed,

“3^rd squad, reinforce 1^st. Sanchez, change position to cover them. 2^nd squad, send half your men to 3^rd squad’s original position and keep the rest of your squad in position. All units, fire at will.”

 

Lieutenant Matthew Benson was one of two Shortsword pilots selected to be prepared to conduct air support for Malkovich’s platoon. Both pilots were in the hangar bay awaiting orders when Malkovich’s request for assistance came through.

“Gonna kick some ass,” Benson’s wingman noted.

“Let’s roast some Covies,” Benson replied. He applied full power to the engines and shot out of the In Amber Clad’s hangar bay, heading for the coordinates where the Covenant forces were apparently located. He doubted they would be there. In Benson’s experience target coordinates were always off.

 

The Covenant battalion consisted of at least four hundred soldiers, as well as four Wraiths. The forces Malkovich had selected to face them consisted of less than twenty. The Marines opened fire as soon as the Covenant were in range, cutting down dozens in the lead company before they could fire a shot. Malkovich ordered Sniper Two to support the squads in contact, then sent half his squad, including Richins, to the south side to support the forces there. They needed the Shortswords soon. Without them the Marines were doomed.

 

Don raised his rocket launcher and fired two shots before dropping back into cover to reload. One rocket slammed into a boulder in the middle of a group of seven Grunts. All seven of them were ripped to shreds, as were another three and two Elites that were hit by the shockwave and shrapnel. The second rocket hit a Wraith on the pilot compartment and detonated, killing the driver and obliterating the key systems. While it did not explode, the Wraith was useless.

 

“I can see the target. Crap, that’s intense,” Benson radioed to his wingman. It looked like a constant rain of plasma was pouring down onto the mountain held by the Marines. Benson’s Heads Up Display (HUD) locked onto three Wraiths.

“You take the one nearest the mountain, I’ll take the other two,” Benson ordered.

“Tally ho,” the wingman replied, then broke formation. Benson changed course to head for his targets and prepared to release his bombs.

 

Richins was too busy shooting the Covenant to notice the low roar of the Shortswords. This was what was referred to a ‘target rich environment’, and Richins was loving it.

 

Three...two...one…now! Benson hit the switch and six free fall ‘dumb iron’ bombs dropped from his bomb bay. He pulled up into a climb and applied more power to the engines. He felt the bomber rock as plasma bolts slammed into it, but he ignored them. Soon he’d be out of range. He glanced at his bomb site just as the bombs hit.

 

The first two bombs landed short of the Wraiths; the next three landed on target; the sixth went wide. All had 894-kilogram warheads, and all were effective. The two Wraiths shattered into a thousand pieces, adding their shrapnel to that produced by the bombs. The combined fireballs and shrapnel tore through the Covenant ranks, wiping out at least a company. The three bombs from Benson’s wingman’s bombing run obliterated the disabled Wraith and slaughtered a platoon. The two Shortswords evaded return fire from the Covenant, then swung around for another run.

 

“Bring it!” Sanchez yelled as the bombs wreaked havoc in the Covenant lines. He decapitated an Elite, then pumped three rounds into the exposed chest of a Hunter, which crumpled to the ground, momentarily disabled but not killed. A full magazine to the back finished it off. Sanchez reloaded and checked his ammunition. He had two more magazines, then he was out. Retreat, you b***ards! Use your brains for once in your pathetic lives!

 

“There’s a company moving to flank the mountain. You keep hitting the main force, I’ll neutralize the flankers,” Benson’s wingman radioed. Benson acknowledged the report, then checked his weapons load out. Four more bombs, then he was out. He’d hit the front of the Covenant lines. With luck, that would dissuade them from continuing the assault.

 

Benson’s wingman also checked his load out. He had seven more bombs. He’d only need four or five. While powerful, the free fall bombs were not noted for accuracy. Both pilots had wanted guided munitions, but knew that in this situation the Marines on the ground would not want to have to designate their preferred targets. The Shortsword pilot was now regretting it. If just one bomb missed, he could either kill the Marines on the mountain or let a large number of Covenant live. He shoved the thoughts aside, and prepared to release the bombs. He felt his bomber shake violently, and looked at his damage display. Something had hit his engines, but they were still working. He didn’t see his fuel gauge rapidly dropping. He was leaking fuel. He flicked the release switch for the bombs. Three fell; the fourth failed to disengage and let out a spark, which ignited the leaking fuel.

 

The three bombs wiped out half of the flanking forces. The fourth would have killed most of the survivors. Sanchez let out a yell of satisfaction when he saw the bombs impact. However, his joy turned to fear when he saw a fireball in the sky.

 

The Shortsword’s fuel, both inside and outside the fuel lines, lit on fire within a second. The fire quickly reached the rapidly draining fuel tanks, which exploded with devastating force. The pilot experienced a nanosecond of intense pain before he was converted into thousands of atoms and his aircraft burst apart in a fireball.

 

The pilot did not die in vain. 3^rd squad quickly neutralized the last of the flanking force. The surviving hundred Covenant knew that the battle was lost and they broke ranks, the smarter Elites following the example of the lower species. The less intelligent ones tried to rally the troops and were cut down by snipers.

 

“Motherf***ers!” Benson yelled. He’d seen his wingman’s death. He let out another curse, then headed back to the In Amber Clad for rearmament and refueling. He’d return when the Covenant did. He would not let them get away with what they had done.

 

It was 1710 hours.

 

Chapter 14

Insertion Point, Delta Halo

1711 hours, October 20, 2552

 

“We kicked ass!” a Marine near Richins yelled.

“How many did we lose?” a corporal whispered to Richins. The machine gunner looked around and then said,

“Fifteen.”

“S**t. We had about twenty-three to start off with,” the corporal whispered.

“F**k,” Richins swore. He radioed to Malkovich, “Sarge, this is Richins. We lost fifteen of our twenty-three guys.”

He heard someone near Malkovich swear. Malkovich himself replied,

“Understood, Richins. Hold your position.”

 

“That’s only eight guys on that side,” a Night Stalker noted. Malkovich nodded and said,

“I can’t spare anyone else to reinforce them.” He paused then said, “I’m radioing the ship. We took out an entire battalion, our job is done.”

Malkovich switched frequency on the radio and said,

“In Amber Clad, this is Night Stalker. I’m requesting extraction.”

“Night Stalker, your orders are to-” Malkovich cut off the radioman and yelled,

“I know what the f**king orders are, you idiot! I’m to distract the f**king Covies while the Spartan does his thing. Well, guess what? I’ve neutralized an entire f**king battalion. How much more of a distraction can I be?”

“Understood, Night Stalker. I’ll pass on your message. Wait one.”

“REMF,” Malkovich muttered. REMF stood for ‘Rear Echelon Motherf**ker’, a somewhat less than polite term for staff officers, generals, and politicians.

True to his word, the REMF replied a minute later,

“Night Stalker, we have Pelicans inbound. ETA seven minutes. In Amber Clad out.”

Malkovich switched frequency again, informed the Marines of the extraction, then handed the radio back to Gerard. He turned away and muttered,

“If they hit us again in those seven minutes, there won’t be anyone left to extract.”

 

“How stupid can you get?” Sanchez muttered. He watched as the surviving Covenant regrouped and prepared for another assault. We just slaughtered virtually an entire battalion of you freaks. And you’re coming back for more? Bring it! Sanchez radioed,

“Everyone be advised, the Covies are regrouping. Fools just can’t get enough of us.”

“How many, Sanchez?” Malkovich asked. Sanchez made a rough count then replied,

“Only about a company. Should be a piece of cake.”

“If they’re in range, get ‘em to piss of, will ya?” Don radioed.

“What the Mafia guy said,” Malkovich replied. Sanchez smiled and said,

“Will do.”

He refocused on the Covenant, and prepared to open fire. If they wanted more, he’d give them more.

 

Chapter 15

Insertion Point, Delta Halo

1712 hours, October 20, 2552

 

Sanchez squeezed off a round, sending an Elite tumbling down a hill it was standing on to rally its subordinates. He switched targets and pulled the trigger, but there was nothing but a click. What the hell? He should still have three rounds left in the magazine. It must have been a jam. He lowered the rifle and bent down to fix the jam just as a Jackal sniper fired. The beam sliced through the air where Sanchez’s head had been a nanosecond earlier. Sanchez swore and spread himself out across the ground to present a limited target while fixing the jam. Sanchez found himself subconsciously praying that the Jackal thought that it had killed him. Please, God.

 

“Sanchez, report,” Malkovich radioed.

“I have no visual on the Covies. I’ve got a jam,” came the reply. Malkovich let out a curse and radioed,

“Sniper Two, report.”

“I have a visual. Covenant forces are curr-” the transmission cut out.

“Sniper Two, report,” Malkovich repeated. “Sniper Two! S**t.”

 

Sniper Two let out a low moan. He was dying, and he knew it. A Covenant sniper had shot him straight through his chest, and most likely punctured his lung. He coughed up blood and squeezed his eyes shut. He reactivated his radio and said,

“Sniper…Two…kill…”

His voice trailed off and he entered the blissful embrace of death.

 

“Jam cleared. I am reacquiring visual now,” Sanchez radioed. “Wait one.”

He fired, and a Jackal sniper exploded as the round slammed into its chest.

“Hostile sniper neutralised,” Sanchez reported. He scanned for the other Covenant but saw nothing. “I have no visual on main Covenant force. I repeat, I cannot see the main Covenant force.”

He thought he saw a glimpse of Grunt armour, but when he looked closer he couldn’t see anything.

“Where are you?” Sanchez whispered. It was unnerving. He couldn’t afford to lose sight of the enemy. But it had happened. He let out a quiet curse.

 

“This isn’t good,” Bacon said.

“Really? I never realised that,” Malkovich said sarcastically. He couldn’t cope with Bacon. The idiot questioned his every order and never ceased to amaze Malkovich with his ignorance and stupidity.

“Keep your eyes peeled, Bacon. Yell if you see anything,” Malkovich ordered. Bacon nodded.

 

Don heard a low thudding sound and he turned to his right. At first he didn’t register what the green blobs were, then he did and yelled,

“Incoming!”

He dropped to the ground and covered his head as the fuel rod rounds slammed into the mountain near him and exploded.

“Hostiles inbound from the west!” Don radioed. He rose to a crouch and opened fire, cutting down two Grunts as they broke cover to advance. “We’re about to get extracted, can’t you give us a break?”

 

Sanchez shot down an Elite, then killed a Grunt and reloaded. Four rounds to go, then he was out of ammunition.

“Be advised, Sniper One is nearly out of ammo,” Sanchez radioed. He heard multiple curses. Where’s that extraction?

 

Don swore. Once Sanchez was out of ammo, there was nothing between the mountain and the Covenant, no sniper cover. He hoped the extraction would arrive soon. If it didn’t, they were dead. Simple as that. Don heard two sniper shots in rapid succession. How many more does Li have?

 

Sanchez killed two more Elites, then dropped the rifle to the ground. He grabbed his SMG and began moving towards the south side of the mountain. They’d need his help. Malkovich, you’d better be radioing the In Amber Clad. We’re gonna need ‘em.

“This is Sniper One. I’m out. Moving to the south side.”

 

Don ducked as a stream of plasma tore through the air around him and cut another Marine to pieces. Richins dropped prone beside Don and immediately opened fire, shredding an Elite and three Grunts before they knew they were under fire. A Grunt holding a fuel rod cannon broke cover and fired two shots before three Marines blew it away. One shot went wide and detonated several meters from the nearest Marine. The second hit a rock and exploded, tearing a Marine to pieces.

“We can’t hold for much longer!” Richins yelled.

“What do you want me to do?” Don replied angrily as he shot down to more Grunts.

 

“We’ve got barely anyone left on this side!” Malkovich recognised the voice as Don’s.

“Understood, Don. I can’t send anyone over to you. If they hit any other side and we’re all with you, we’re all f**ked!” Malkovich replied. He heard Don curse, then the line went dead.

“In Amber Clad, we need extraction now! We’re being overrun!”

 

“Those Marines won’t last for much longer, Eagle. You need to get there ASAP,” Benson heard over his radio. He clenched his teeth in anger and then replied,

“Look, I can’t go any faster than I already am. ETA one minute.”

Benson switched off the radio. The Marines would have to hold on for that one minute. Benson was the only Shortsword being deployed this time. Following him were three Pelicans to evac the Marines. There would be no pause to wait for the fight to die down. They would pick up the Marines and go, no matter how fierce it got. They didn’t have the time to wait.

 

“You’ll just have to hang on, Don. Evac’s still at least five minutes away,” Malkovich radioed.

“F**k,” Don’s voice replied. “Very well. We’ll do our best, but no promises.”

 

Don fired his last two bullets then threw the rifle aside. He retrieved his pistol and waited for the Covenant to come in range. Sanchez stood behind a rock two meters away, SMG in hand. He seemed to be thinking the same way as Don. Richins hammered away at the Covenant with his machine gun. Without Richins, they would have been overrun long ago. Don tightened his grip on the pistol. He mentally prepared himself for close in combat. He steadied his breathing and his body tensed. He was ready. Three seconds later, he involuntarily relaxed as a Shortsword roared overhead and two bombs tore through the Covenant lines. A Pelican came to a hover in between the mountain and the Covenant, and the chin-mounted chain gun began cutting into the aliens, tearing them to pieces.

“Marines, let’s move!” Don yelled. “Leave the dead, there’s no time for that!”

 

A Pelican landed four meters from Malkovich. Without a second thought the sergeant was sprinting towards it, radioing,

“Marines, get onboard the Pelicans. Don’t stop for the dead, just move!”

He dropped down into one of the seats and breathed a sigh of relief. The battle was over. He was safe.

 

Benson brought the Shortsword around for another pass as the Pelicans picked up the Marines. When the last of the Pelicans were in the air and heading for the In Amber Clad, Benson dropped another two bombs then followed them back. He smiled. The Covenant had inflicted heavy casualties on the Marines, but they’d paid for every Marine they’d killed. A single tear fell from Benson’s eye. He wiped it away. The Marines’ fight was over. They were safe now. That’s all that mattered.

 

Chapter 16

In Amber Clad

1720 hours, October 20, 2552

 

The Pelicans landed in the hangar bay and the Marines stumbled out, grateful to be in safe territory again. Malkovich smiled and activated his rifle’s safety. He saw five Marines led by Banks enter the hangar bay and then move straight for him. Malkovich nodded a greeting and said,

“What can I do for you, Banks?”

“A massive Covie fleet exited Slipspace a couple minutes ago. Easily a hundred ships, plus some kind of station,” Banks replied, not bothering with small talk. “We’re staying away from them, but all Marines onboard the ship are to be combat ready.”

“Who’s in command of counter boarding operations?” Malkovich asked.

“I am,” Banks replied. Malkovich nodded in agreement with the decision and said next,

“Bring me up to speed with the defensive arrangements.”

Banks didn’t hesitate, nor did he take offence at Malkovich’s questions. He knew that Malkovich was an excellent soldier, and that he could use the Helljumper’s help.

“The only ways the Covenant can board the ship is through the life pod and hangar bays. That’s where the defensive positions are being deployed. There are thirty men in total guarding the life pod bays and thirty guarding the hangar bay. Ten men will be defending the bridge. My headquarters unit will be moving throughout the ship, avoiding staying in one place for long. I don’t want to risk the Covenant using radio tracking devices to home in on our position.” Malkovich nodded and Banks continued, “The rest of the men, at least twenty, will be in teams of five and will be moving throughout the ship as quick reaction forces to any breach in the main defences.”

Banks nodded to indicate that he was finished. Malkovich said,

“I like it, it should work. Where do you want my Marines?”

“You and the other Marines that were at that mountain will be the quick reaction forces,” Banks replied.

“Okay. Thanks,” Malkovich said. He walked away to pass on the orders to his men.

 

The Library

1721 hours, October 20, 2552

 

Sangheili Special Forces officer M’tau Mantemee activated his active camouflage and advanced, energy sword in hand. It had been five minutes since he had been separated from his squad; five minutes since he’d seen any contacts, be they Human, Flood, Covenant, or Sentinel. Mantemee was on his own.

 

The air was misty with flood spores, and the Elite couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being watched. He spun around and walked backwards for several meters to make sure he wasn’t being followed. Then he turned back around to find himself face to face with a Human combat form. Mantemee instinctively took a step backwards, then remembered that he was cloaked. He rammed his sword through the chest of the combat form, killing the infection form inside. The creature’s body slipped down, slicing its neck and head in half on the sword’s blade. Mantemee kept moving. He needed to find a way out of the facility and back to a Covenant ship.

 

After another two minutes, Mantemee froze at the sound of weapons fire. He listened carefully. It was coming from a hall leading to his right. He recognised the weapons as Human rifles and shotguns. He looked around; there was no other way out of the room he was in except for back the way he came. He was deciding what to do when there was the sound of a Human grenade detonating, then a Flood carrier form slammed into the ground less than a meter from Mantemee. Before he could move, the Flood exploded, sending him flying across the room. He slammed into a protrusion from the wall and dropped to the ground face first. He groaned and rolled onto his back. His energy sword lay deactivated thirty centimetres away. Mantemee was about to reach for it when he saw a group of infection forms scampering towards him. He didn’t flinch. After all, his cloak was still active. Then he realised that the infection forms would be moving for the nearest target. He raised his hand above his face. By the gods! The explosion had disabled his active camouflage. His right hand retrieved his plasma rifle from its holster, and he opened fire, killing the small Flood.

 

He stood, placed the rifle back in its holster, and activated his sword. With his active camouflage gone, there was no way that he was going into the battle. He turned to go back the way he came, but then heard new sounds from that direction; a lone Sentinel firing, Flood screaming. Then there was an explosion. Mantemee cursed again. He had two options; go back through the Flood, or go through the weakened forces of the Flood and Humans that were locked in combat. He slowly walked the way he was going earlier. Ahead of him was the sound of fierce combat. Behind, the piercing, agonising screams of the Flood.

 

Chapter 17

The Library

1722 hours, October 20, 2552

 

Mantemee held his plasma rifle in his left hand and his sword in his right. He would not stop for anything; he would cut through the Flood ahead of him, then kill the Humans. He did not once think of turning back. The Flood he’d heard behind him were coming closer, no doubt to reinforce their brethren currently fighting the Humans. Mantemee would have to be out of the area before then, or else he’d be dead.

 

Four Humans armed with rifles and shotguns were holding their position at the very end of the corridor. The corridor was rather narrow, as if designed to channel an enemy into a kill zone, which was what the Humans had done. The Flood were forced to come in only two abreast, which made them easy, concentrated targets for the Marines. But they were slowly gaining ground. There were at least seven combat forms trying to reach the Humans. The last of the carrier forms had been the one that had neutralised Mantemee’s active camouflage. Mantemee lifted his plasma rifle and took aim. This would be difficult, but not impossible. He fired.

 

The first three bolts caught a Marine in the face, cutting their way through then carrying on to hit the far wall. The Marine was thrown backwards, his blood splattering across the floor. The other three Marines kept firing, not noticing their comrade fall. A combat form collapsed under their combined fire, which greatly pleased Mantemee. One less Parasite to deal with. The Flood did not turn to see who had fired the plasma rifle, assuming that it was one of their own. Mantemee used this to his advantage, and killed another Marine with a burst to the neck and face. The other two Marines noticed him fall, but were unable to do react before the Flood took advantage of the slackening in fire and charged forward. Mantemee resisted the urge to look away as the Marines were ripped apart by the creatures. He simply fired ten bolts into the back of a combat form, blowing open its chest and killing the smaller Parasite inside. One of the other Flood swung around to face the new threat, but before it could attack Mantemee shot it down. Four to go.

 

The first two were dealt with easily. With two quick swings of his sword, Mantemee obliterated the infection forms, and the now lifeless carcasses collapsed. The two remaining Flood turned around and charged. Mantemee shot one through the chest, but the second dodged his sword and slammed a fist into Mantemee’s chest, knocking him to the ground. He lost his rifle and sword in the process. The former Elite stepped forward and Mantemee winced at the crack of three long whips breaking out of the creature’s hand. The Parasite swung the whips at Mantemee, who stepped out of the way and took hold of the whips. He pulled forward, and the Flood stumbled towards him. Mantemee quickly snatched his sword from the floor, activated it, and plunged it through the creature’s chest, killing it instantly. He let it fall to the floor then huffed in amusement. That was easier than he had expected. He glanced around, then kept moving at a run. The Flood were getting closer.

 

In Amber Clad

1723 hours, October 20, 2552

 

“Malkovich, I need to talk to you,” Banks said quietly. Malkovich nodded and walked over to him.

“I didn’t want to hit you with this as soon as you got off the Pelicans,” Banks hesitated.

“What is it?” Malkovich asked.

“The other ODST squad, the one led by Jackson…they’re all dead. None of them made it. They were either killed in the drop or in the battle at the drop zone,” Banks said. Malkovich turned away and swore under his breath. Banks took a deep breath and said, “I’m sorry, Sergeant.”

“Thanks. Thanks for telling me,” Malkovich replied. He swore again and walked over to his squad to tell them. Banks turned away. He hated being the one to deliver this kind of news, but he had no choice. Someone had to do it; at least it this way it would be someone that had fought alongside Malkovich before.

 

Chapter 18

The Library

1725 hours, October 20, 2552

 

Mantemee kept moving, glancing behind him occasionally to make sure the Flood weren’t close. He could hear them constantly, but had yet to see any more. He was getting confused by the maze of corridors that made up the Library, and was hearing sounds that came from nothing. Mantemee was getting worried. He hadn’t seen Sentinels for at least ten minutes. The security system must have been overwhelmed by the Flood. Or the Arbiter. His mind added. He’d heard that an Arbiter had been deployed to the area to retrieve the Icon. But Mantemee wasn’t overly concerned. He could do nothing to aid the Arbiter, he could only get out.

 

Mantemee turned the corner and froze when he heard scampering nearby. Infection forms. He checked his rifle’s battery and let out a low involuntary curse. Only ten percent charge left. He checked his sword next to find that it had twenty percent. He held both weapons in hand and continued forward towards the scampering. It was probably the way out anyway, he reasoned. He stopped around the corner to the sounds and stopped to listen. The scampering ended, replaced by the distinctive whimpering of an Unggoy. He let out a low groan when he realised that he’d have to escort the creature, then a plan came to mind. He stepped around the corner and called out,

“Unggoy! Hold your fire!”

“Stop! Who are you?” the Grunt called.

“Sangheili Special Forces officer Mantemee. Do not fire,” Mantemee replied. He continued forward and resisted the urge to fire when the Grunt came into view. He needed to conserve his battery.

“I come with you?” the Grunt asked.

“Yes. Follow, and stay close. Don’t fall behind, I won’t come back for you,” Mantemee replied. He glanced over the Grunt, taking in its weapons. It had a single plasma pistol and two plasma grenades. It had the orange armour of a simple infantryman. Mantemee nodded and kept moving. A plan continued to form in his mind, and he debated with himself over whether or not it was the right thing to do. He quickly forced from his mind the voice that said it was wrong. He needed a way out, and he needed to strike a devastating blow against the Humans. The Grunt would help provide the means for that blow. Mantemee sniffed to see if he could smell the Flood. He barely could; the Parasite’s scent was covered by something else. The smell of fresh air; the smell of freedom. And he could hear the sound of Human vehicles in the far distance. Perfect.

 

In Amber Clad

1726 hours, October 20, 2552

 

“How are you coping?” Sanchez asked quietly, walking over to Malkovich.

“How do you f***ing think I feel, Sanchez? Jackson’s entire squad killed by those b*****ds. And I’m stuck on this ship sitting around doing nothing,” Malkovich snapped in reply.

“What, you want to exact revenge and risk losing the ship in the process?” Sanchez shot back. “What’s more important, our way out of this Hell, or a personal revenge mission? In surviving this, and holding this ship, we can do more damage to the Covies than any revenge mission ever could.”

“Yeah. I know,” Malkovich whispered. “I just…I can’t let them get away with this.”

“Sarge, I know your motto; storm the gates of Hell. Well, there’s a time to storm the gates, and there’s a time to stand back and let others storm them. Now’s the time to let others storm the gates. It’s our time to recuperate,” Sanchez replied quietly.

“What’s going on, guys?” Bacon asked cheerfully as he walked over.

“Shut the f**k up and get out of here, Bacon. Now,” Malkovich said, spitting out Bacon’s name like a bitter-tasting liquid.

“What’s his-” Bacon cut himself off when he saw the look Sanchez gave him. He shook his head and walked away.

 

“You fool!” Don said loudly, pushing Bacon backwards.

“Hey, what’s your problem?” Bacon asked.

“We just lost an entire squad from our platoon, you idiot. And you’re walking around like it’s a glorious, sunny day on R&R,” Don stated.

“Hey, Malkovich lost a lot of guys under his command today, what’s so special about Jackson’s people?” Bacon asked angrily.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Don said. “You’re too stupid.”

Don stalked off to find somewhere quiet to sit back and think, and to get away from Bacon.

 

Chapter 19

The Library

1730 hours, October 20, 2552

 

A door twice the size of Mantemee loomed in the distance. A red light beside it indicated that it was locked.

“Do you know the codes?” Mantemee asked. He doubted the Grunt knew, but he didn’t want to risk making himself look like a fool if it did.

“Yes! Yes, I do!” The Grunt squealed. It charged forward, only to slam to the floor as Mantemee shoved his leg in the way.

“Stay close to me,” Mantemee ordered. It had been too long since they had seen Flood. The Parasite was smart. It would know that its enemies would get less cautious as they approached the exit. Especially when it was right in front of them. This would be where the Parasite would attack. Mantemee knew it. He didn’t have the ammunition for this; the Grunt didn’t have the weapons. They’d have to run for it. Mantemee informed the Grunt of this. The creature gulped but hid its fear, forcing Mantemee to begrudgingly put his respect for it up a notch.

 

The Parasite struck when the two of them were six meters from the door. Eight combat forms leapt from the darkness and sailed towards the two Covenant. Mantemee shot down a Flood, then threw his depleted plasma rifle to the ground. He didn’t use his sword. He’d need it later.

“BY THE PROPHETS, RUN!” Mantemee shouted. He sprinted for the door, praying that the Grunt was behind him. He saw a small shape charge past him, and he nearly attacked it, thinking that it was an infection form. He stopped himself when he recognised the Grunt’s orange armour. He huffed in newfound respect. If it can outrun me, it’s either a strong Unggoy or it’s got a lot of adrenaline. Mantemee guessed that it was adrenaline. He refused to believe that a strong Grunt was possible. The Grunt reached the door and began entering a code to unlock it. Mantemee was nearly there when he was knocked to the ground by a combat form. He rolled onto his back in time to see the Parasite swing its whips towards him. The Elite snapped his head out of the way and the whips sliced through thin air. Mantemee grabbed the creature by what had once been an Elite’s head, then ripped it off. The Parasite stumbled back, then charged forward again. This time Mantemee was ready. As the creature reached him, he thrust his right hand forward and took hold of the infection form in its chest. He squeezed, and the tiny creature burst. As the body collapsed, Mantemee bolted out the now open door, which the Grunt shut and locked behind him.

 

Mantemee turned around to take in his surroundings. The first thing he noticed was the cold. It pierced his armour and chilled him to the bone. As far as the eye could see there was snow. The side of the Library was covered with it; the ground was covered with it; the mountains were covered with it. And two hundred meters away, barely visible through a minor blizzard, were two Human dropships.

“The Human ships. Move,” Mantemee ordered. He led the Grunt forward.

 

“I’m telling ya, man, there’s some freaky stuff going on in there,” the pilot of one of the Pelicans said.

“What makes you say that?” the co-pilot asked.

“You heard the radio message as well. ‘They are not Covenant’. How many other enemies are there?” the pilot asked in reply.

“They probably were Covenant, just not a type that the Marines recognised,” the co-pilot responded.

“Whatever, man. Just don’t be surprised when we have to evac everyone from some freaky alien,” the pilot said.

“What have you been smoking?” the co-pilot asked seriously. The pilot was about to come back with a sarcastic reply when two blue blades appeared around the co-pilot’s neck.

“Holy s**t,” the pilot muttered. He glanced back towards the cargo bay and saw an Elite standing there, crouched slightly and with its energy sword ready to cut off the co-pilot’s head.

 

It hadn’t been easy getting into position. Mantemee had ordered the Grunt to stay silent and to stay outside, then crept into the ship. He’d found the pilots in deep conversation, and had to resist the urge to kill the co-pilot to rid himself of the creatures’ babbling. Instead, he held the sword steady and said in broken but understandable English,

“You do as I say or he will die.”

“Oh, s**t,” the Human whispered.

“Silence!” Mantemee hissed. The Human nodded and stopped his whimpering.

“You will signal for your main ship to enter the Ring’s atmosphere,” Mantemee said. “When I give the order, you will land this ship in cargo bay. If you do as I say, no one will be harmed.”

“Okay,” the pilot said. He flicked a switch then radioed,

“In Amber Clad, this is Extraction Team. We’re under heavy attack and need a short range evac. Requesting you to enter atmosphere.”

“We need the commander’s confirmation to do so, Extraction,” came the reply.

“Listen, you moron. The commander is somewhat busy holding off a hell of a lot of Covies at the moment. We need evac!” the pilot said angrily.

“Very well. We’re moving into the atmosphere now.”

“Thank you very f***ing much,” the pilot responded. He shut off the radio and said,

“There. How was that?”

“Good. Very good,” Mantemee replied. Then he swept his sword to the right, decapitating the co-pilot. A second later his fist slammed into the pilot’s head, rendering him unconscious.

 

Mantemee sealed the cockpit door and stepped out of the ship.

“Come with me,” he ordered the Grunt, who nodded and kept up with him as he sprinted to the other ship. The cockpit door was already sealed. Excellent. Mantemee was quite pleased. He could finally get rid of this stupid animal. He grabbed the Grunt by its methane pack and threw it inside the ship’s cargo bay. He lifted the pistol he’d taken from the co-pilot’s body and fired a single shot into the Grunt’s chest. It would die slowly and painfully, but wouldn’t be able to move. Exactly what Mantemee needed. He ran back to the Library’s entrance and input the code he’d seen the Grunt use earlier. The door opened and Mantemee sprinted back to the Pelican he’d boarded earlier. He entered the cockpit and left the door open. Come and get us.

 

Chapter 20

The Library

1735 hours, October 20, 2552

 

The Grunt ground its teeth together to keep from screaming in pain. It heard the Parasite approaching. Its howls terrified the Grunt, and it tried to move. Pain shot through it, pain more intense than anything it had ever felt before. The Elite…my saviour…it shot me. Heretic! The Grunt’s thoughts were shattered when the first Flood reached the cargo bay. Three carrier forms waddled onboard, followed by at least ten infection forms.

“NOOOO!” the Grunt screamed as the Flood poured onboard. It raised its plasma pistol and fired several bolts into the wiring above the cargo hatch, causing a power surge that slammed the hatch shut. In doing so the Grunt trapped the Flood inside, and sealed its fate.

 

Flood charged for Mantemee; at least five combat forms and seven infection.

“Fools,” Mantemee muttered. As soon as the Flood were onboard, Mantemee flicked a switch and the cargo bay hatch sealed. A second switch sealed the cockpit door. The Elite woke the pilot.

“As soon as you see your ship, fly to it and land in the hangar bay,” Mantemee ordered. The pilot nodded. After seeing what had happened to his co-pilot, he had no intention of disobeying the Elite. There was a low rumbling in the distance. After relieving the pilot of his pistol, Mantemee looked out the cockpit window and saw the Human frigate settling into the atmosphere above a mountain range.

“Go. And order the other ship to follow you,” Mantemee ordered. The pilot nodded and radioed,

“Hey, Davies. You there?”

“S**t, man, I’ve got a bunch of aliens in my cargo bay. I have the cockpit sealed, but they’re starting to break through the door,” came the panicked reply.

“So do I, man. Listen, we’re gonna fly back to the In Amber Clad. They’ll have security teams in place, okay?” Mantemee’s pilot assured him.

“Okay. I’ll follow you,” the other pilot replied. The radio went dead.

“In Amber Clad, this is Extraction Team. We’re inbound, but require medical teams to be standing by in the hangar bay. We have critical casualties,” the pilot radioed.

“Roger that, Extraction. Medical teams standing by.” Mantemee didn’t understand half the conversation, but he knew that even if there were security teams standing by, the Flood would easily take care of them.

 

In Amber Clad

1741 hours, October 20, 2552

 

“Medical teams to the hangar bay! I repeat, medical teams to the hangar bay! Two Pelicans inbound, critical casualties!” a voice shouted over the loudspeakers.

“We’d better help,” Benson told the crew chief that was fixing some minor damage done in the last bombing run.

“Yeah. I always wanted to help patch up severed arteries and limbs,” the crew chief replied sarcastically.

“Could be worse,” Benson replied.

“How’s that?” the crew chief asked.

“You could be the one that’s wounded,” Benson told him. The crew chief nodded and chuckled.

“Hangar bay opening. Medical teams stand by,” the loudspeakers squawked. Two Pelicans flew through the hangar bay doors and settled in hovering just above the deck. Benson and the crew chief joined a medical team waiting at the cargo hatch of the Pelican on the right. The hatch began to lower.

 

“Thank you,” Mantemee said. The pilot nodded and closed his eyes as he felt a surge of self-hatred overwhelm him. He’d just allowed the enemy onto his ship. Mantemee huffed and snapped the pilot’s neck effortlessly. Now the fun begins.

 

When the cargo bay hatch was half open, a grey sphere flew out of the Pelican and landed on a medic’s chest. Several tentacles on the sphere tore open the medic’s chest and the sphere moved inside.

“What the f**k?” the crew chief said, shocked into inaction by the sight. Benson stumbled backwards as more of the spheres charged out of the two Pelicans and overwhelmed the medical teams. He ran, but one of the things knocked him over. He instinctively rolled onto his back, then felt his chest being torn open. Then everything went black.

 

The Marines guarding the hangar bay heard the screams inside. They instinctively opened the entrances to find themselves face to face with hideous creatures from their worst nightmares. The Marines instantly opened fire, cutting down many of the creatures, but there were too many. The defences were slowly overwhelmed by the onrush of Flood.

 

“Malkovich, this is Banks.” Malkovich kept moving on his patrol route. He was coming on the hangar bay defensive positions. “Hostiles have infiltrated the hangar bay. I need you to hit them now. Hard.”

“Understood,” Malkovich replied. He turned around and said, “Night Stalkers, move out.”

The Night Stalkers had been split in half. Malkovich had taken Richins, Sanchez, Gerard, and a corporal with him. The other team’s patrol route focused on the engine room to prevent any boarders from disabling or destroying the ship. They would now move to consolidate their positions there, while the other ten Marines in the quick reaction force would be sent to the hangar bay as well.

 

“Oh, f**k,” Sanchez muttered when they reached what had used to be a Marine defensive position at the hangar bay. There were three bodies torn to pieces, as well as multiple blood splatters with no bodies. At least two severed limbs were scattered around.

“What the hell?” Gerard muttered. He knelt down beside some kind of alien. It looked somewhat Human, but its face was frozen in a scream, with its neck snapped and head pushed to the side. Its whole body looked deformed, as if struck by some kind of hideous disease.

“Keep moving, people! We need to find the hostiles and kill ‘em!” Malkovich ordered. He radioed, “Banks, Malkovich. The hangar bay has been compromised. All defensive positions overrun. No sign of the current location of the hostiles.”

“Understood. Contin-” Banks’ reply was cut off by a piercing scream of agony. Banks yelled, “WHAT THE F**K? TAKE THEM DOWN!”

Gunfire echoed through Malkovich’s radio, followed by screams. Banks came back onto the line, saying,

“Malkovich, we’re being hit! Get-” The signal cut out.

 

Banks screamed again as another swing of the creature’s whip tore off his arm. He knew he was about to die. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. His left hand grasped a grenade and pulled the pin.

“Son of a b***h,” Banks whispered. Then the grenade detonated and Banks felt himself fall into eternity’s grip.

 

Chapter 21

In Amber Clad

1743 hours, October 20, 2552

 

“All units, be advised, Banks is down. Malkovich is taking command,” Malkovich radioed. “Report in.”

“Life pod bays are secure. No contacts.”

“Engine room under attack. We can hold for another ten minutes at the most.”

“Bridge. Under heavy attack, cannot hold.”

“Reaction Charlie. Pinned down at Armoury Alpha.”

“Reaction Delta. Pinned down at Main-” a scream sounded and the signal cut out.

“Charlie. Disengage and move to Bridge. Engine, disable the systems then get to the life pods,” Malkovich radioed. “I’m heading for Delta.”

The teams acknowledged their orders, then moved out to carry them out.

 

“Disable the engines? But then we’re f**king stuck here!” Bacon yelled. Don couldn’t cope with the moron for much longer. Only the need for manpower kept Don from shooting him.

“Just come with me,” Don ordered. “Everyone else, hold position.”

“No problem,” a rifleman replied. He fired another burst, killing a group of infection forms.

“We can’t hold for long,” Don muttered, too low for anyone to hear, which was just as well. The last thing he needed was even lower morale. If that was possible.

 

As Don ran for the central control systems in the middle of the engine bay, he heard the rest of the team’s fire increase. Don’t tell me there are more of the f**kers. Don raged. He glanced back and saw one of the small creatures carve its way into the chest of a corporal. Before the creature could fully take control, Don shot the corporal through the chest with his rifle. Before his conscience could set in, Don set a charge on the control systems then yelled,

“Bacon, let’s move!”

There was no reply. Don turned around. Bacon was nowhere to be seen.

“F**king coward,” Don hissed.

“Who’s a coward?” came Bacon’s voice. Don swung around and cursed. Bacon was waiting at the next target, ready to cover Don’s advance.

 

“Oh, God,” Richins muttered, then turned away and vomited. They’d reached Reaction Delta. There were no survivors. Nor were any missing. All five were shattered masses of blood and bone.

“This is Malkovich. Reaction Delta is down. Report in,” Malkovich radioed.

“Don. I’m setting the charges, but we-” Don stopped, swore, then said, “They’ve broken through! Bacon, f**k the charges! Get out of here!”

“Reaction Charlie. The rest of my team is down. I’m heading for the-” there was a sickening crack, then the radio went dead.

“Don, get to the life pods! F**k going down with the ship!” Malkovich ordered. He turned to his team and said, “Same goes for us. Move out.”

“Be advised, life pods are under attack. You have five minutes, then we’re gone,” a new voice reported.

“S**t,” Don said in reply.

“Understood. Just hold for as long as possible,” Malkovich ordered. “We’re coming.”

 

Time was running out.

 

Mantemee advanced through the deserted corridors of the ship, clutching a rifle he’d taken off a dead Human. Before leaving the hangar bay, he’d checked on the Grunt. The infection forms had torn it to pieces trying to consume it. The Grunt’s lack of sufficient calcium had proven to be its downfall. After checking on the Grunt, Mantemee had taken the rifle and kept moving. He needed a way off the ship and to High Charity. His first thought had been to take a Human dropship, but he’d never been a good pilot. He’d take a Human life pod. That would be much easier to obtain and use. He’d land in a Covenant-controlled sector and get a Phantom to transport him to High Charity. He didn’t know what he’d do once he arrived. All he knew was that High Charity was a lot safer than a Human ship or the Ring.

 

Chapter 22

In Amber Clad

1747 hours, October 20, 2552

 

By the time Malkovich reached the life pods, they were overrun. He stopped about seven meters from the entrance to the nearest bay when he heard what sounded like laboured breathing. He’d heard it before earlier; it was a sound made by the creatures. Malkovich tensed his grip on his rifle was prepared to move forward when he heard a sound behind his team. He swung around, ready to fire, then relaxed when he saw it was Don and Bacon.

“Status?” Malkovich asked.

“We’re the only ones left,” Bacon replied. “No more security, and we haven’t seen any crewmen that weren’t taken.”

“Okay. Here’s the plan. We’re going to go in together. Blast everything in sight while we board a life pod, then drop down onto Halo,” Malkovich said.

“Where do we land?” Don asked.

“The life pods can track IFF transponders, right?” Malkovich asked in reply. Don nodded, and Malkovich replied, “We home in on the nearest IFF and link up with them. Simple.”

“Let’s do it,” Richins said, raising his machine gun to his shoulder.

“Okay,” Malkovich paused, then said, “Let’s do it.”

 

The seven Helljumpers burst into action. Don, Malkovich, and Richins took point, with the other four standing back. The three in front would fire crouched, while the others fired over their heads. They’d move forward in this formation, slowly driving the Flood back far enough to reach a life pod. It would be simple. In theory.

 

Mantemee quietly opened the maintenance door to the life pod bay and looked around. He saw the Humans advancing, unseen by the Flood. Mantemee quickly figured out what they were planning. He would use their attack to get out without being spotted.

 

“OPEN FIRE!” Malkovich yelled. All seven weapons roared, shredding four Flood before they could react. But react they did. With a single-minded mob mentality, the Flood proved the truth of their name and charged forward. Malkovich killed several infection forms, then saw a combat form charging for him. He pulled his trigger, but there was a click. Hell of a time to have to reload. The thought quickly passed through his mind as he released the magazine and grabbed another one from his vest. He saw the combat form raise its hand to swing its whip, and he muttered,

“For Christ’s sake…”

A second later the creature burst into pieces as Richins’ machine gun hammered away at it. Malkovich smiled, finished reloading, then turned to Richins just in time to see him die.

 

A whip slammed into Richins’ face. The Marine was killed instantly and thrown back into a corporal, his face virtually torn off. The corporal screamed in horror and froze. A single infection form made it through the kill zone and latched onto the corporal’s chest. Sanchez saw it and fired, just in time to save the Marine.

 

Mantemee took his chance and ran to the nearest life pod. He hit a button at random and the doors hissed open. He leapt inside, shut the doors, and then sat down at the controls. He guessed the basic controls, and soon the pod was out of the ship and into space.

 

“ADVANCE!” Malkovich ordered. The Marines stepped forward, shortening the range to the Flood and therefore increasing the damage done by their weapons. Within thirty seconds they reached a life pod. Sanchez stopped firing and opened the doors.

“OPEN!” Sanchez called out. He got to the main controls and began a slow process of deciphering the language used by pilots. The corporal who had nearly been taken earlier tripped over the corpse of a Flood a meter from the life pod. Malkovich cursed, then stepped forward to grab his hand just as a Flood slammed its whip into the corporal’s side, sending him flying out of Malkovich’s view.

“D**n! We’re in!” Malkovich yelled, then hit the button to close the doors.

“Taking us out,” Sanchez replied. The pod shot forward out of the ship.

“I think this is the IFF homing device thingie,” Sanchez said, then pressed several buttons. “Now we sit back and hope for the best.”

 

The life pod slammed into the ground, slid for several meters, then came to a bone-shuddering halt. The rear doors opened and Mantemee stepped out, his rifle up and ready. He relaxed when he saw two Ghosts hovering nearby. He began jogging over, then froze. Brutes? What are they doing here? The Ghosts were accompanied by five Brutes, armed with plasma rifles and brute shots. Mantemee pushed the confusion from his mind and continued forward. He stopped in front of a Brute holding a brute shot and said,

“I am Sangheili Special Forces officer Mantemee. I require transport to High Charity.”

All of the Brutes except the one in front of Mantemee started to chuckle. A smile crept onto the face of the other Brute. It stepped forward. Mantemee didn’t react, thinking that it was going to point the way to transport. Instead, the creature rammed its bayonet into Mantemee’s chest.

“Heretic scum,” the Brute hissed. What? It was Mantemee’s last thought. A moment later his body succumbed to the pain and damage, and the Elite breathed his final breath.

 

The Night Stalker life pod landed and skidded across a sandy area. The doors opened and the Marines piled out, only to freeze in place when they saw a Scarab towering above them, surrounded by destroyed Wraiths and Banshees.

“Not quite the best place to land, Sanchez,” Don noted.

“It landed, not me,” Sanchez replied.

“It’s abandoned,” Malkovich said. “If it wasn’t we’d be somewhat less alive.”

“S**t! Elites, six o’clock!” Gerard yelled. The Marines spun around and raised their weapons. Ten Elites were advancing from a cliff behind the Scarab. Malkovich glanced behind him and swore; they were backing up towards a river and a huge alien structure. No cover.

“Marines, open fi-” Malkovich began to yell.

“Belay that order!” bellowed a familiar voice. Malkovich turned to his right and saw Sergeant Major Johnson jogging towards the Night Stalkers, battle rifle in hand.

“Sir, those are Covenant over there. Shouldn’t we be killing them?” Gerard asked.

“You people have a lot to catch up on,” Johnson said in reply. “Follow me.”

“What the hell is going on?” Bacon asked bluntly.
“Like I said, I’ll explain,” Johnson replied. “But let me assure you. For the time being, your fight is over.”

---

Officialy offline as of April 4 Australian time.

Here's my third fan fic.

For the Pillar fans out there, the title is shamelessly ripped from the song title.

This is a prequel to 'Hunted' and gives some background on several characters.

Enjoy.

---

Officialy offline as of April 4 Australian time.

Read tommorow.....ready to pass out from lack of sleep...

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[url=http://www.halowars.com/forums/thread/255446.aspx]The Great War[/url]Ch.5 is up
[url=http://www.halowars.com/forums/224551/ShowThread.aspx#224551]Caba's Journey[/url]Done
2

Don Vito Corleone:

Read tommorow.....ready to pass out from lack of sleep...

lol, no problem. See you tomorrow.

---

Officialy offline as of April 4 Australian time.

I read it and think it is very good, but then i would expect no less from you lol

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Im back! Now with 72% more unseriousness!

killer! Grunt!:

I read it and think it is very good, but then i would expect no less from you lol

lol, you shouldn't. I'm glad you liked it. I wasn't sure if it was the best way to start the story, but the next chapter should more than make up for it.

---

Officialy offline as of April 4 Australian time.

hmm im intrigued, if thats spelit wrong give me a break i have not been up long.

When will the next chapter be here......

......now?

now?

NOW?

---

Im back! Now with 72% more unseriousness!

killer! Grunt!:

hmm im intrigued, if thats spelit wrong give me a break i have not been up long.

When will the next chapter be here......

That's nothing, I once said that in a screenshot you could tell that there was a Hunter in it because you could see its eyes...

It will be up sometime tomorrow.

---

Officialy offline as of April 4 Australian time.

lmao right, makes perfect sense.

cool i am looking forward to it. Well i have things to do today so see ya later

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Im back! Now with 72% more unseriousness!

killer! Grunt!:

lmao right, makes perfect sense.

cool i am looking forward to it. Well i have things to do today so see ya later

"Hunters don't have eyes." <Artemis' response to that post. lol

Okay, see you later.

---

Officialy offline as of April 4 Australian time.

Well...I can't say I haven't read this before =P but...

nice job! I can't wait for more!

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Chuckles

Anyone else here getting sick of tiny two-word posts that become huge because of the O.G. picture?

Chuckles:

Well...I can't say I haven't read this before =P but...

nice job! I can't wait for more!

Funny, very funny.

Chapter 1 should be up later today. But for now, here's a little preview:

Malkovich yelled.

---

Officialy offline as of April 4 Australian time.

^ Nice...lol

---

Chuckles

Anyone else here getting sick of tiny two-word posts that become huge because of the O.G. picture?

Captain Cazador- Soldato:

Chuckles:

Well...I can't say I haven't read this before =P but...

nice job! I can't wait for more!

Funny, very funny.

Chapter 1 should be up later today. But for now, here's a little preview:

Malkovich yelled.

Lol!!!!

---

In my times, the darkened days,
Evil invaded the world.
We farmers,
We workers of the Red Union,
We united and slaughtered them all.
The brave soul,
Above the evil,
Planted our inspiration atop their burning cities.
- Ruski

Chapter 1

Thirty kilometers east of New Mombasa

1600 hours, October 20, 2552

 

The Pelicans carrying A Company landed on an airstrip that was home to another seven Pelicans carrying more regular Marines.

“More regs. Not one Helljumper,” Don said as he stepped out of the Pelican.

“What’d you expect? It’s only a major city, no need for elite troops,” Gerard replied.

“Marines! Form up! Don’t go any further than two meters from this Pelican at any time!” Malkovich yelled. When the Marines piled out mumbling complains, Malkovich roared, “Cut your crying, Marines. Get over it.”

“Marines! We are being deployed to the city center as part of a counter attack! Mount up!” Bennet yelled from his Pelican.

“Let’s move, Marines! Get onboard now!” Malkovich ordered. The squad quickly got back into the seats they had just left. None dared to whisper a complaint. Less than a minute after landing, the Pelicans carrying A Company were back in the air.

 

By 1608 the Pelican was over the city, two minutes out from the drop zone. Malkovich could feel plasma bolts hitting the hull of the Pelican and asked the pilots what the situation was.

“A couple of plasma and beam rifles. No fuel rods. We’re not in any danger,” the co-pilot replied. Malkovich nodded his thanks and settled back in his seat.

“Well? What are we being hit by?” Corporal Leon Perez asked.

“Plasma rifles. Nothing major. Stupid Covies didn’t expect us,” Malkovich answered. Perez nodded and shifted his grip on his rifle.

“Calm down, Marine,” Malkovich said. “You’ll be fine.”

“Thirty seconds! Prepare to exit!” the pilot yelled. Malkovich stood and yelled,

“Marines, remember this: the difference between a hero and a coward is not whether you’re scared, it’s what you do while you’re scared. Fight hard, fight for the man next to you! Never give up, never stop fighting. You keep shooting, you’ll get through.”

“Ten seconds!” the pilot yelled. The Pelican shook as it suddenly came to a halt. Malkovich felt the plasma bolts hitting the Pelican double in intensity.

“Marines! Storm the gates of Hell!” Malkovich yelled. He leapt out of the cargo bay and entered the battlefield.

 

Malkovich’s Pelican had, along with Bennet’s, deployed at the bend of the road that led to the city center. About two hundred meters away from the Pelicans was the bridge that spanned the width of the road. The Marines would head straight there once off the Pelicans. At least, that was the plan.

 

As soon as the seven Pelicans stopped to offload their cargo, the Covenant opened fire. Bennet dropped from the cargo bay of his Pelican and was about to sprint for cover when a Jackal sniper shot him in the face. His head was ripped apart and he fell backwards into the Pelican. The other Marines in the Pelican ignored his remains and charged out of the transport. Three were cut down before they could move five meters. The others kept moving, returning fire wherever possible.

 

The rear Pelican roared towards the bridge and was coming to a halt when two Elites broke cover and opened fire with fuel rod cannons. Three rounds detonated inside the cargo bay, tearing apart the occupants before they could react. Only two of the Marines survived; one with both legs severed and the other with his chest torn open. Another eight rounds detonated against the right wing and cockpit of the Pelican, obliterating several key systems and killing the co-pilot. The pilot attempted to escape the area, but the Pelican had barely cleared the nearest rooftop when the engines cut off. The transport plummeted to the ground, where it exploded as it hit a building.

 

“S**t! Move for cover!” Malkovich yelled. He fired two bursts from his rifle, killing a Grunt. He sprinted for an abandoned car that seemed to have been hit by several bursts of plasma. He leapt the last meter, narrowly avoiding being decapitated by a Jackal sniper. He rose to a crouch and carefully peered around the side of the car, taking note of the situation. The rest of the company was on the ground and seeking cover while returning fire. Malkovich swore. If they kept this up they’d be pinned down and slaughtered. He looked around and saw a building at the end of the road. It would be the perfect location to use for defense. He took a deep breath and yelled,

“Gerard! On me!”

He saw Gerard empty his magazine then sprint towards him as he reloaded. Malkovich forced an Elite to take cover, then dropped back behind the car as Gerard dropped down beside him. Without wasting his breath with small talk, Malkovich grabbed Gerard’s radio and made sure it was switched on. As Gerard fired on the Covenant, Malkovich radioed,

“Banks, this is Malkovich. We need to get moving or we’ll be pinned down.”

“S**t,” came the simple reply. Malkovich heard a battle rifle fire in the background, followed by the roar of a dying Elite. Then Staff Sergeant Marcus Banks, the second in command of the company, came on the line saying, “I hear you. Building at the end of the road?”

“That’s what I was thinking. Wait one,” Malkovich replied. He glanced around, saw Perez and his fireteam, and then looked back up the road towards the building. He hit the PTT (Push to talk) button on the radio and said, “I’m gonna send a fireteam to secure that alleyway, then they’ll clear that building. I suggest you send a fireteam up your side of the road to help them with the building. Once it’s secure we’ll move the rest of the company to it.”

“Agreed. In five,” Banks said. The line went dead and Malkovich gave the radio back to Gerard. He then turned to face Perez and yelled,

“Perez! Collect your fireteam and get over here!”

Perez gathered the three men in his fireteam, then they sprinted over to Malkovich. Malkovich cut down an Elite, then took cover and said,

“Further up this road is an alleyway that the Covenant are no doubt using for their command unit. Take your fireteam and clear it, then secure the building at the end of the road. Sergeant Banks is sending one of his fireteams to secure the building as well. Once it’s secure the rest of the company will link up with you at the building. Understood?”

Perez nodded.

“Okay, go,” Malkovich ordered. He raised his battle rifle and yelled, “Covering fire!”

 

Perez didn’t look back. He just rose to his feet and ran as fast as he could towards the alleyway. When he reached it, he came to a halt and dropped to a knee. He opened fire on a group of Grunts as the rest of his fireteam entered the alleyway. When the last of them was in, Perez followed, not knowing what to expect. When he entered the alleyway, he was met with a gruesome sight. A gold Elite had shoved its sword through the chest of a Marine. It threw the Marine aside and charged at Perez as he and the other two surviving Marines opened fire. The Elite made it to within a meter of Perez before it toppled to the ground, its face and chest torn to pieces.

“Let’s keep moving, Marines,” Perez said, leading the fireteam further into the alleyway.

 

“Come on, come on,” Malkovich whispered. “Just clear the d***ed alleyway and secure the building. We’re sitting ducks out here.”

As if to punctuate Malkovich’s statement, a stream of plasma ripped through the car just centimeters from his face. He let out a curse and shot an unshielded Elite in the face. The alien’s head exploded and it simply dropped to the ground without making a sound. Malkovich glanced over at the alleyway and saw Perez’s fireteam, minus one man, break cover and head for the building. He looked over at the opposite side of the road and saw the second fireteam moving for the building’s front entrance.

“Hurry up, people. We can’t hold them off all day,” Malkovich muttered. He shot down two Grunts and then dropped behind cover to reload.

 

Perez stopped just short of the building’s entrance. He nodded the commander of the other fireteam, then all seven Marines charged inside, weapons up and at the ready. It took them two minutes to secure it. Perez and his fireteam took up defensive positions on the roof while the other fireteam covered the entrance. Perez killed an Elite standing on the bridge then radioed,

“Building secure. Move up.”

 

“About time,” Malkovich muttered. He reloaded his rifle then yelled, “Let’s move, Marines! Go, go, go!”

He then charged for the building, Gerard, Don, and the rest of the squad close behind. One of the Marines was hit in the face by a burst of plasma the second he broke cover. Don killed the Grunt that had shot the Marine, then kept moving. To stop was to die.

 

Perez cut down an Elite, then reloaded. He watched as the surviving Marines charged for the building. He winced as one was hit in the back of the head by a plasma burst. They’d lost a lot of Marines in the drop. Perez hoped they would survive the rest of the battle.

 

Malkovich reached the entrance to the building and stopped just inside. He opened fire, keeping a group of Covenant pinned down while the Marines moved inside. A Marine reached the door, then was hit in the back by five needler rounds. The needlers exploded a second later, blowing the Marine in half. Malkovich swore and shot down a Grunt. When the last of the Marines were inside the building, Malkovich and Don slammed the heavy steel doors shut. They were safe in the building.

 

In those four minutes, thirty Marines had been killed and ten seriously wounded. Once the Marines were all inside the building, the Covenant broke off the attack. Of the thirty combat-ready Marines, ten remained in the building. The other twenty split up, some moving into the alleyway Perez had secured earlier, others moving into other neighboring buildings. When the Covenant came back, they would pay for what they had done. The Marines had lost many of their comrades in arms. They would not let the Covenant get away with it.

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