Halo 3: ODST (Reclaimers)

[MarkWarrior]

Halo 3: ODST (Reclaimers) Prologue

A harsh light and a soft chime awoke Veronica Dare from her slumber. She groaned, rolled out of bed, and padded softly over to the datapad on the dresser.

UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND PRIORITY TRANSMISSION 11785S-76

ENCRYPTION CODE: BLACK
PUBLIC KEY: FILE/GAMMA-THUNDER-TWELVE
FROM: LORD ADMIRAL TERRANCE HOOD, CHIEF OF NAVAL OPERATIONS, UNITED NATIONS SPACE COMMAND
TO: CAPTAIN VERONICA DARE, OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE, SERVICE NUMBER 73998-38490-VD
SUBJECT: THE PORTAL IN VOI
CLASSIFICATION: SECRET (BGX Directive)

/ START FILE/

CAPTAIN DARE, I APOLOGIZE FOR THE BRIEF NOTICE, BUT YOU HAVE TO MOVE FAST.

ASSEMBLE A TEAM AND PROCURE A DROPSHIP TRANSPORT. YOU NEED TO SELECT SOLDIERS WHO CAN PROTECT SPECIALISTS AND KEEP THEIR COOL AROUND ALIEN FRIENDLIES. MAKE SURE YOU CAN TRUST THEM. I DON'T WANT THE BOYS FROM THE BLACK OPS GROUP MUSCLING IN ON THIS MISSION.

YOU ARE TO RENDEZVOUS WITH SIERRA 117 AND THE FORWARD UNTO DAWN ABOARD THE SEPARATIST ASSAULT CARRIER SHADOW OF INTENT. THEY DEPART WITHIN THREE HOURS. POSSIBLY SOONER.

I'VE ATTACHED TWO SPECIALISTS FROM THE IN AMBER CLAD TO YOUR TEAM. THEIR JOB IS TO SECURE ANY AND ALL DEFENSIVE TECHNOLOGIES THAT MIGHT BE FOUND ON THE OTHER SIDE. CSV's ARE TO FOLLOW THIS MESSAGE.



FURTHER INSTRUCTIONS WILL BE FORTHCOMING.

GODSPEED CAPTAIN,

TERRANCE HOOD.

Dare stared at the message, her sleep-fogged brain trying to make sense of it all. Clarification came when she opened an image attached to the email. She saw drone footage of the Voi excavation, the very thing that had been weighing upon her mind for the past two weeks.

The Engineer named Quick To Adjust (AKA Vergil) had told her that the Covenant Loyalists were digging up some kind of installation that had been installed by the vanished alien race that the Covenant worshiped. To hear the Covenant themselves talk about it, the thing at the bottom of the pit was a superweapon, a sacred shelter, a key to salvation. When exhaustion had finally driven her to bed, it seemed as if the High Prophet of Truth was just hours away from pushing the big red button.

But now the installation was alive. Great shields like flower petals had unfolded, and hovering above it all was… a glimmering ball of energy. A stable slipspace rupture.

"What is it?" Buck asked.

Dare tossed the datapad onto the bed and gestured for him to read it. She was already pulling her BDU undersuit on.

"Get the rest of the team on the horn," Dare began pulling on pieces of armor. "We leave in an hour."

"You are aware that we're down a member, right? Mouthy fella, missing a chunk of his lungs?"

"I've got someone who can fill in," Dare grabbed her comms gear and tied her hair into a loose bun before securing the headset. "Is Mickey still flying that Phantom?"

"The Brutes haven't shot him down yet."

"They'll get another chance then," Dare said as she grabbed her helmet and tucked it under one arm. "You coming? Or are you just gonna lay there and stare?"

"Can I do both?" Buck grinned and began changing into his own kit. "Go ahead, I'll catch up."

---

"Dare," a broad-shouldered redhead answered the door, dark bags underneath his eyes. "You only show up when something's wrong."

"Need you for an op." Dare tossed the man a datapad. "Lord Hood's authorization, you're being transferred effective immediately."

"Bloody 'ell you don't fuck around, do ya?" the man slid the door open all the way, letting Dare into the darkened bunkroom.

"Adam," Dare stopped the man. "We're going through the portal and my team's sniper is down."

"I'm in," Adam sighed, grabbing his SRS and slinging it over his shoulder. "I'll need a new BDU though," he drew Dare's attention to the plasma-scorched armor lying on the floor.

"Geeze, what'd you do? Piss off a Wraith?" Dare asked as she picked up the partially melted armor.

"Something like that," Adam shrugged, his gear and undersuit slung in a pack over the shoulder that didn't have the barrel of a rifle peeking over it. "I'm ready to go if you are."

"We'll stop by the armory," Dare closed the door behind them. "Get you something that isn't slagged."

"Fine by me," Adam let the barracks door slide shut behind him. "Let's go kill us some apes."

–
–


The two walked up and out onto the loading bay of Firebase Voi. Awaiting them was a Phantom dropship painted in the drab colors of the UNSC Marine Corps hovering just above the bay.

"I'd heard the rumors," Adam stopped in his tracks and stared with jaw agape. "But I didn't bloody believe it."

"Get in line," Dare scoffed. "We've got a mission to run.

Adam stepped into the grave lift, and after a moment of weightlessness, he landed into the cavernous interior of the alien dropship. When his eyes adjusted to the strange light, he saw a gunnery sergeant tending to a stack of ordnance, and a pair of ODSTs clustered in the cockpit.

"Hey, Mickey!" a voice gruff said. "Try not to get shot at too much. You know how much I hate flying."

"Dutch, I've had my butt glued to this seat for the past two weeks," the other trooper, the pilot, said. "I've picked up a few tricks since then."

"Are we really that bad off?" Adam asked. "Have we really lost so many Pelicans that we need to nick a floating brick off the Covies and paint it green?"

"Green like a leaf on the wind," Mickey said. "Wait 'till you see it soar."


—
Co-Author’s Note: This is a fanfic co-written with Rasq’uire’laskar.

 

[The Whispering Monk]

But was that Buck Rogers?

 

[MarkWarrior]

Spoiler: Music To set the mood

A deep shudder ran through the Phantom's frame as the Shadow of Intent's catapult took hold of it. Gunnery Sergeant Edward Buck felt a moment of weightlessness as paragravetic forces accelerated the dropship like a bullet through the busy hangar and launched out into space. He also felt the dropship nose up and to the right. It only turned a few degrees, and the pilot quickly corrected, but it left him with a white-knuckled grip on the pilot's chair.

"Last chance, Mickey. I can always ask the Elites in back if one of them's rated to fly this thing."

"I've got it, Guns," PFC Mike "Mickey" Crespo said to the trooper standing over his shoulder. "Besides, if I hand the keys over to one of those split-lips, I might not get them back. I stole this Phantom fair and square."

"As I recall, Dutch and I did most of the work. You jumped into the cockpit after the guards were dead."

A smart-assed comeback died on Mickey's lips as he dropped the Phantom's nose down to match vectors with their escorts, and their destination loomed into view.

"Holy-" Mickey breathed. "Look at the size of that thing!"

The portal-machine that the Covenant had dug up beneath Voi had been the biggest construct that Buck had ever seen, well over a hundred kilometers across. The Keyship that they landed on the portal may have been smaller, but it was still the biggest damn starship that Buck had ever seen.

There was a space station below the distant Loyalist fleet, and that station forever recalibrated Buck's sense of the word "big". It was flower-shaped, with eight petals radiating out from a central hub. The surface of the petals and the hub were segmented by walls that must have been a hundred kilometers thick, and the spaces between those walls were filled with ecosystems, complete with oceans and weather patterns. Those ecosystems were so dwarfed by the rest of the construct, they almost looked like they were painted on bare metal.

Driving it all home, a half-eaten planet was hovering in a well at the center of the station.

For the first time in his life, Edward Buck was at a loss for words.

"… I'm glad we were fighting the Covenant, and not whoever built that," Mickey breathed after a minute.

"I'll say," Buck polarized his faceplate as a display reflected light into his eyes. "I… I don't think we brought enough firepower. I wish we had the whole fleet here."

"I'd be okay with some proper escorts right 'bout now," Mickey snarked, gesturing to the Seraph strike fighters that were keeping pace. "These covie ships just don't compare to a proper Longsword."

"What are those flashing dots?" Buck asked.

"Those would be enemy fighters," Mickey shrugged as he keyed the intercom. "Everyone, brace for evasive maneuvers!"

A large Elite stepped into the cockpit. He wore a brilliant red armor, of a design that Buck had never seen before. It had an archaic quality to it as if the Elite had gotten that armor out of a museum.

"The Shipmaster has given me a location," Usze 'Taham rapped his hand against a panel, lighting up a new display that showed an incomplete map of the Ark with the landing area highlighted. "We may expect the enemy to have beaten us there."

"Split-lips," Mickey shook his head as he flew through the void. "I'm going to have to wipe that panel down."

—
—

Corporal Taylor H. "Dutch" Miles had a tradition of praying to God for deliverance whenever his squad was trapped in a dark space, surrounded by Covenant warriors and outnumbered five to one. The aliens standing in the dropship's troop bay may have switched sides and made a truce with the UNSC, but Dutch saw no reason to break with tradition.

So he prayed. Quietly. Privately. With his hands folded before him and a crucifix dangling from one fist. His knuckles slowly turned white and the wooden cross creaked a bit when the Phantom shook.

Beside him, a Grunt in green armor stared nervously at the crucifix. Kassak was a veteran. He had served the Covenant for all his adult life, and in that time he'd seen how the Elites punished heretics and murderers. He understood what a cross was for.

He elbowed his fellow Heavy(1) in the chest. "Come on, Marmag. Let's go."

"What?" the other Grunt asked. "Why?"

"That thing the Human is holding. I don't want to be near it."

"What, the stick?"

"It's a cross, Marmag. A cross like the one that the Elites nailed Dodom to."

"Oh," Marmag said as Kassak grabbed him by the harness and hauled him toward the back of the troop bay. "Well, Dodom kinda earned it. He killed the Elite who led his lance. And then he killed the witnesses. And then when the inquisitor showed up, he-"

"I know, and I don't care," Kassak said. "The point is, if that Human is praying to one of those, he probably knows how to use the real thing!"

They settled into formation at the back of the troop bay, and Kassak pointed at Marmag's fuel rod gun. "How is your launcher? Have you checked it?"

"I was cleaning the action when you punched me in the chest," Marmag replied.

"How about the ammo cassettes? Are they ready to-"

Kassak turned toward the supplies that were stacked at the back of the dropship, but there he saw another human slumped against the ammunition crates.

Lance Corporal Jonathan "Rookie" Doherty was motionless, with his head bowed, his visor dark, and his pack resting on his knees. He seemed to be sleeping, but it was a wonder that anybody could sleep, what with the roar of the engines and the chatter of the Separatist troops. Even the swaying of the Phantom didn't move him.

That came to an abrupt end when a Drone landed on the crates and crawled over him. The trooper came alive with a cry, throwing the drone back with a solid elbow and kicking it to the ground. The Drone screeched and tried to claw back, but then a fist connected, and the bug went down in a tangle of limbs.

The Drone gave up trying to escape. It came at the Rookie in a flurry of claws and wings. It drew a plasma pistol, but before it could use it, the trooper put it back on the deck with a solid kick, and then he planted a foot on its carapace and aimed his M7 SMG at its head.

"Don't shoot my flier!" a Jackal sniper snarled as he pushed through the gaggle of Covenant that had gathered to watch the fight. Zaid was an old veteran in red armor, and his voice was raspy even through the machine translator in the Rookie's helmet.

There was a sudden and sharp movement as a handgun snapped up, the barrel of the heavy pistol pointed at the Jackal's face, the weapon steady despite the rise and fall of the ODST's chest.

Rookie, stand down!" Dare ordered as she clamped a hand on the Jackal's shoulder. "You there, call off your pet, or I'll let the Rookie off his leash."

"She would fly away if she could, woman," the Jackal retorted, checking over the drone's carapace and wings for damage, scoffing at the scuff marks and scrapes.

A red-haired ODST put a large hand on the Rookie's submachine gun and forced him to lower it.

"Easy there, boys," Sergeant Adam McMurtrie said as he separated the two. "We don't want anyone dying yet today."

The Rookie released the submachine gun, and it dropped to his waist, hanging from a single-point sling. He did not holster his M6S, however. And even through his darkened visor, it was clear that he was glaring daggers at the Jackal sniper.

"You should move around more when you sleep, Human," Zaid said, laughing in spite of the tension. "You looked like a corpse, napping on those crates. Rhik't has got a deal with me, she does. She gets the first choice of carrion."

"Then she should find a more appropriate meal," Usze 'Taham declared, with a glare that was every bit as venomous as the Rookie's. "She may feast upon the Jiralhanae and their lackeys. Should I catch her preying upon my comrades, I will end her, and I will hold you to account."

"Same arrangement we had on Bath'tet all those years ago," Zaid cackled. "We go back so long, Usze. You'd think things would be different now."

Usze shrugged him off, and the Jackal muttered harsh words to himself as he looked over his Focus Rifle, the old rifle showing scars and signs of having been through many battles.

"You keep your… men on a tight leash," Dare glanced over at the grunts that were mingling with the ancient Jackal that had shifted away. "This operation is-"

"My men are disciplined and devoted. Do not judge them by the mischief of a mercenary," the Elite's mandibles flared. "We are not–"

"Atmosphere in thirty seconds!" Mickey's voice interrupted their conversation. "Be ready for enemy fire!"

"When we joined the Covenant, we swore an oath!" roared an Elite in a blue combat harness, drowning out the rest of the noise on the Phantom and stilling the nervous grunts.

"According to our station, all without exception!" the grunts cried back.

N'tho 'Sraom strolled down the aisle at the center of the troop bay, casting a harsh gaze on each rank as he passed by "On the blood of our fathers... on the blood of our sons, we swore to uphold the Covenant!"

"Even to our dying breath!" was the response, louder this time.

"The Writ of Union was an eternal vow! The Prophets are oathbreakers, and the Brutes are usurpers. They fled to the Ark, to the most sacred of citadels, and they plan to turn its weapons against us, just as they tried with the Second Halo! They have proven themselves to be worthy of neither pity, nor mercy."

The airframe shuddered around them as if struck by a stray plasma bolt.

"Even now, they use the Forerunner's creations to broadcast their lies! Their sins call out for punishment, and we will be the instrument of their judgment."

"Nice speech," Adam snarked before turning smartly and clicking his heels together. "Attention on deck!"

Dare, Rookie, and Dutch snapped to attention reflexively. A pair of Marines guarding the cache of UNSC gear followed suit.

"Helljumpers!" Adam roared. "How do we ride down?!"

"We go feet first!"

"Damn straight," Adam smirked, before glancing at the Elite. "We're here to kill shit, not wax bloody poetical about it."

"Oorah!" Dutch and the Rookie echoed.

A marine with an antenna peeking over his shoulder and Castillo stenciled on his breastplate, held a hand to his headset. "Captain!" he called out to Dare. "We've got a flight of interceptors zeroing in on us. Seraphs backed by Vampires, about three hundred kilometers out."

"Damn!" Dare swore, before translating for Usze. "It'll be close, but they won't intercept us in time. We should reach the OZ, the forest, before they do."

"Yeah," the other Marine, Nathan "Hawk" Hockensmith replied as he squeezed his MA5B rifle tighter "But it's a big force. Our escort won't be able to contest the airspace, not unless the Separatists send more strike craft."

"They won't," Usze declared. "The fleet is outnumbered three to one. They can spare no one to send to our aid."

"They have to," Dare said. "If the Brutes find what they're looking for, those odds will get a lot worse."

"Indeed. That is why we must not fail."

"Hold on," Dutch said. "If our side can't contest the airspace, that means we ground-pounders can't get reinforced either, right?"

"It seems that we are graced with a bounty of foes to face!" N'tho grinned. To Dare's amazement, the Elite's mandibles spread in what was, unmistakably, a smile. "Let them come."

The Phantom shook as plasma fire scorched the green paint, the artificial gravity flickering on and off as the generators were impacted.

—
—

"I can't shake 'em!" Mickey fought with the controls. "We're going down!"

The Seraph escort had peeled off, and drawn away some of the Loyalist strike craft. But not all of them. And Mickey still had to shed speed, which let his pursuers close to extreme range. Plasma bolts were already lancing through the loose formation of insertion pods clustered around the Phantom.

Alarms screeched as the dropship blazed and broke through the lower parts of the atmosphere. The clouds parted to reveal the tops of massive redwood-esque trees. The Phantom's sensors came to life, and the heads-up display highlighted metal platforms and light bridges that knitted the canopies together.

It was at this point that Mickey realized that one of the screeching sirens was a collision alarm.

He wrenched at the controls, and the Phantom's engines burned, metal screeching as the superstructure of the Dropship flexed. Even as the insertion pods speared into the canopy and deployed the Elites within, the dropship fought for time and altitude, the antigravity sputtering and then flaring back into life.

And then great boughs were rushing by the cockpit, some of them exploding in plasma fire. Mickey wasn't fighting for altitude anymore. The dropship had slowed, but it was a struggle to keep it on course.

"Mickey! Right there!"

"I see it, Buck!"

There was a cluster of platforms that a tree had grown around, maybe a few hundred meters distant. None of the platforms were very large, but there was, just barely, enough room to set the dropship down.

"Brace for impact!"

---

1. Due to losses among the Spec-ops squads among the Covenant Separatists, some grunts of exceptional intelligence and use were promoted beyond their usual jobs. In this case, the two grunts were once Heavy weapons specialists who were absorbed by this squadron to fill this mission.
   
   
   

 

[ATP]

What kind of world is it? and who built it?

 

[Laskar]

What kind of world is it? and who built it?

Hard to find a full-sized image of the Ark.
It was built by the Forerunner, a civilization of the galaxy (Mostly concentrated in the Orion Arm) that vanished about 100,000 years ago. The Covenant believe that the Forerunner ascended into godhood via the Halo Array, and the Ark was the redoubt where they unlocked that eternal wisdom that allowed the ascendancy to take place.

For 3,500 years, the Covenant have been looking for the Halo rings, so they can ascend themselves. In the final stages of their war of extermination against Humanity, they have found two out of seven rings. One ring was destroyed by Humanity, the other was lost to a sentient plague that the Covenant believed to be a mythical foe that the Forerunner vanquished. Most disconcertingly, they found the portal that leads to the Ark, and that portal was on Humanity's homeworld.

In reality, the Halo rings are not the key to godhood. They are an extermination device, capable of surgically sterilizing the galaxy of sentient life. Or at least, any life that can sustain the sentient plague known as the Flood.

The Ark is a factory. It built the Halo Array.

The Ark is also a fallout shelter, constructed about 1.8 galactic radii from the Milky Way.

 

[ATP]

Hard to find a full-sized image of the Ark.
It was built by the Forerunner, a civilization of the galaxy (Mostly concentrated in the Orion Arm) that vanished about 100,000 years ago. The Covenant believe that the Forerunner ascended into godhood via the Halo Array, and the Ark was the redoubt where they unlocked that eternal wisdom that allowed the ascendancy to take place.

For 3,500 years, the Covenant have been looking for the Halo rings, so they can ascend themselves. In the final stages of their war of extermination against Humanity, they have found two out of seven rings. One ring was destroyed by Humanity, the other was lost to a sentient plague that the Covenant believed to be a mythical foe that the Forerunner vanquished. Most disconcertingly, they found the portal that leads to the Ark, and that portal was on Humanity's homeworld.

In reality, the Halo rings are not the key to godhood. They are an extermination device, capable of surgically sterilizing the galaxy of sentient life. Or at least, any life that can sustain the sentient plague known as the Flood.

The Ark is a factory. It built the Halo Array.

The Ark is also a fallout shelter, constructed about 1.8 galactic radii from the Milky Way.

Thanks.So,idiot Covenant try to kill themselves/and all other sentient species/ thinking,that they become gods?
Something like SEELE in Evangelion.

P.S i remember some fanfictions where Forerunners lead by dude named Dido or something tried to conqer Earth.
Is it canon,or somebody else idea?

 

[Laskar]

Thanks.So,idiot Covenant try to kill themselves/and all other sentient species/ thinking,that they become gods?
Something like SEELE in Evangelion.

P.S i remember some fanfictions where Forerunners lead by dude named Dido or something tried to conqer Earth.
Is it canon,or somebody else idea?

The Covenant have badly mistranslated the few records that they have recovered, and they believe that they can follow their gods on a Great Journey. There are a few who know the truth, but they have their own agenda.

That's canon to Halo, yeah, specifically the games made after Bungie left Microsoft and 343 Industries took over. The guy's name is Didact, as in teacher.

This fic is a part of Project Daybreak, which is an EU that largely starts over from where Bungie left off.

 

[ATP]

The Covenant have badly mistranslated the few records that they have recovered, and they believe that they can follow their gods on a Great Journey. There are a few who know the truth, but they have their own agenda.

That's canon to Halo, yeah, specifically the games made after Bungie left Microsoft and 343 Industries took over. The guy's name is Didact, as in teacher.

This fic is a part of Project Daybreak, which is an EU that largely starts over from where Bungie left off.

So,Forerunner come back is part of canon,or not ?
And how Earth manage to stop them,if they decide to fight?

It would be as if ,let say,some band of barbarian try fight returning Ceazar legions.
No,it would be much worst.

 

[Lord Greyscale]

So, Forerunner come back is part of canon, or not?

ONE Forerunner, The Didact, "came back" (was released from his prison)

He promptly demonstrated why he had been imprisoned, deciding to kill all humans in a mistaken belief that "the humans" caused the death of his wife, The Librarian. (Aka, one of the lifeworkers who brought back all the species the Halo array obliterated)

He lost, by the way.

(Also, it is *strongly* implied that the didact was mind-whammied/brainwashed to become the didact, as that was how all Forerunner commanders are made. )

NOTE: I may be wrong about several bits, it has been years since I last attempted to play whichever halo game he was in, and I've read fanfiction that was overall better written. I may be confusing parts of one for the other.

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 2

"Brace for impact!"

Sergeant Adam McMurtrie's helmet snapped around as the Phantom rolled around him. For a moment, panic rose in his gut. Brace against what? This wasn't a Pelican, there were no seats, and the Covenant didn't use restraints. All of the aliens were just standing in place. How-

The dropship struck the ground hard enough that it should have crumpled Adam's knees into his chest. Instead, the shock wave passed right through him.

"Inertia fields, on a craft this small? The 'ell?" Adam reached to scratch his head only to find his helmet blocking it before shrugging. "Not important," he muttered. "Time to earn my quid."

"We're down!" Dutch barked as he kicked the hatch open, the Rookie behind him with SMG in hand. "Let's secure the area."

"Come!" N'tho grinned as he beckoned to the Grunts. "There is a fight to be had!"

The Phantom had crashed into a tree and was hanging a couple of meters off the ground. The Grunts waddled around the door gunner and leaped to the ground. Adam was right behind them, but as he stepped into thin air, his jetpack roared. He flew out, up, and back, landing on the roof of the Phantom. He used the curvature to hide his figure as he deployed his bipod and started looking down the platform.

It wasn't one platform. As Adam booted up VISR, he saw that the Phantom had crashed into a… frankly, it looked like someone had built a castle in the sky, only for massive trees to grow up and around it. A two-level structure with a round top lay in the middle, flanked by towers to the four cardinal directions and connected by bridges.

With VISR active, Adam tagged the center platform as Courtyard, and the overgrown tower that the Phantom had crashed into as "LZ". The other towers were tagged "Tower East", "Tower West", and "Tower South"-

A lance of green light streaked out of Tower West and struck the Phantom's hull, close enough to spray the trooper's visor with glowing fragments.

"I see movement in the towers! Looks like the Brutes got here first," Adam barked into his radio as he renamed "Tower West" to "Sniper Tower". "We've got incoming."

–
–

"I knew we should have let one of the Elites fly this thing!" Buck coughed as he shakily stood up.

"I'll have you know that I just saved our lives!" Mickey argued. "Do you know how hard it is to gently touch one platform when there's a tree any which way you steer? No? I didn't think so."

Buck stared at the damage alarms flashing red and blue all across the control panel. "Gentle, yeah."

"Heads up, it looks like the Brutes got here first, we've got incoming," Adam's voice echoed.

"Buck!" Dare barked. "Get topside, we need to secure this LZ."

"Mickey, take stock of the drop ship and see if we can fix it or if we need to snag another one from the Brutes," The gunnery sergeant unlimbered his MA5C and charged out of the cockpit. He slid to a stop just inside the bay door and took stock of the situation.

N'tho Sroam and his Grunts had set up a line of deployable covers and were pouring their fire into the lower level of the Courtyard. The Brutes and their troops were outnumbered at least two to one, and the Phantom's door gunner was forcing the hairy apes to keep their heads down.

'So far, so good,' Buck thought as he leaped to the ground. "Rook, sitrep on our specialists!"

The combat medic stayed back and patted down the specialists, the Marines complaining before he stood up and gave Buck a thumbs up and a whistle.

Then the plasma started moving. A few shots from a Brute Spiker or plasma pistol shattered harmlessly against the deployable covers. It was coming from the other towers. If there were any defenders left inside the Courtyard, they didn't dare expose themselves through the doorway.

With a soaring cry, N'tho charged out of cover towards the Courtyard, urging the Grunts to follow him. Buck signaled the ODSTs to fan out and provide covering fire, but that was when all Hell broke loose.

A Brute Major stepped out of the doorway, a Brute shot up and at the ready. His first shot went high, too high, and for a heartbeat Buck hoped the baby kong had missed. Then the grenade exploded above and behind him, and the door gunner quit firing.

The Brute emptied the grenade launcher's magazine, and the rest of his grenades went low. N'tho dodged, but the rest of the Grunts weren't so lucky. If the Major had timed it better, if more of the Grunts had been out from behind the deployable cover, it would have been a massacre.

N'tho brought his plasma rifle up, pouring fire into the enemy, the weapon glowing as the shots melted away the Brute's shields.

The Brute didn't even bother to reload his grenade launcher. He reversed his grip on the weapon to brandish a bayonet as large as a car fender and charged. Once, then twice he swung the blade, and N'tho barely dodged each time.

Buck snapped his MA5C to his shoulder and squeezed off single rounds. It was so damned hard to get a clean shot, and the Elite didn't have much more room to dodge.

N'tho fell to the ground and rolled to avoid a third strike. His plasma rifle sounded again, and at long last, the Brute's shields gave way. Plasma bolts scorched armor and cut into the flesh underneath.

The catastrophic failure of his armor seemed to spook the Major out of his rage. He turned and ran for cover.

"Get this!" one of the Grunts yelled, a plasma grenade flying through the air and sticking to the now unarmored foe. The Brute twisted to claw at the grenade, but then it detonated, the white-hot flash of the plasma all but vaporizing him.

"Well thrown!" N'tho ignited his energy sword and dove into the first line of grunts. "Now come, let us see what manner of foe they are."

"Entho just took out that Major!" Buck barked. "Let's mop up the rest right now, before they realize that they've gotta think for themselves."

"Which tower?" Dutch asked.

"On your left," Buck replied. "We're going to clear it out!"

There was a bridge that angled up from the crash site toward a landing and then turned south to the second level of the tower. The troopers leapfrogged up the ramp. Buck and Dare took the lead and held position while Rook and Dutch advanced. The specialists brought up the rear.

A Grunt peeked out of the doorway. Buck put a thirty-caliber bullet through its head. That caused some commotion in the tower, so Dutch lobbed a grenade, and they all charged in.

The second level was empty of hostiles. Buck put a few rounds in the corners, just to be safe, but the only alien occupants were the dead Grunt by the door and two more that had been taken out by the grenade. There was some equipment that Buck didn't recognize, most of which was cracked open and venting blue flames.

"Rook, Dutch, Check out the next level, make sure that sniper doesn't bother us again."

"On it," Dutch and the Rook took positions on either side of the entrance to the ramp leading to the next level.

Dutch looked at Rook and nodded, and their hands flashed.

One pump,

Two pumps,

Three,

Reveal.

Dutch sighed as his scissors were beat by the Rook's rock, and moved to take point.

"On me," He barked over his shoulder, pieing the corner before moving up the ramp, his SMG moving back and forth as he adjusted his aim.

The Rookie tapped Dutch's shoulder, letting him know that he was on his six as they cleared the area, the duo attuned after the last few ops they'd had on Earth.

"Looks like two," Dutch whispered, his feet moving slower and treading lightly on the metal. "Spotter and a Sniper."

Rook whistled twice, indicating that he would get the sniper as he drew a bead on the Jackal.

"Go!" Dutch barked, moving forward as both of their suppressed weapons coughed, one single round leaving the Rook's and punching the Sniper's head in while a controlled burst from Dutch got his own target.

"We should secure their weapons," Dutch grabbed the Covenant Carbine off of the spotter, the Jackal's ammo pouch getting slung over his back. "Never know when we might need the extra range."

Rook gave a thumbs up as he pulled something out of his rucksack. A sling he'd pulled off of a duffle bag somewhere fell into his hands as he cut away at the Beam Rifle's shroud with his knife. He cut a small hole in one side and then around the other, looped the sling through and tucked it in tight against his pack as he shouldered his SMG again.

"Sniper duo's down, Sarge," Dutch reported before pausing and looking around from the Sniper tower."Thank you, Lord, for the great view up here. Dead aliens, and a gorgeous copse of redwoods."

Rook simply shrugged and went back to defacing the beam rifle, as the sling still did not quite feel right.

"Ya'know, Rook," Dutch sighed. "I think break time's over." He pinged N'tho storming the West tower with his VISR. "We've still got work to do, and we can't have some split-lips show us up."

 

[MarkWarrior]

The Loyalists died where they stood, at the door of the tower. It was a poor choice of ground. The two Jackals stood upon a narrow bridge between the courtyard and the tower, and when N’tho threw a grenade into their midst, there was nowhere to dodge. The blast threw their scorched bodies over the edge and into the darkness below.

“Stay here, hold the courtyard!” N’tho ordered the Grunts behind him.

He sprinted into the tower, plasma rifle up and blazing, but the bolts only struck wood and the sacred metal of the Forerunner. The lower level was empty of defenders. N’tho only saw stacked casks of carrier fluid and reactor fuel, and as he listened, he only heard the approach of thruster packs.

An Elite in white Ranger armor alighted on a window that faced the fortress. He raised a carbine, and quickly made room for another Ranger.

“N’tho ‘Sroam!” the first Ranger called out. “It is I, Orva ‘Kandonom! I beg forgiveness for the absence of our men!”

“No forgiveness is necessary, Prij ‘Kandonom,” N’tho replied (1). “Doubtlessly there will be more skirmishes er’ the day is over. Where are the rest of your warriors?”

“Scattered. On their way,” Orva proclaimed as he stalked around the room, searching for enemies who may yet survive. “The drop pods were perhaps the worst way to insert us into a forest.”

“Wish I that it were different,” N’tho said. In fact, he’d hoped for another Phantom dropship, or perhaps an Erlking. But there had been no such luck.

The Elite warrior surveyed the room, studying the walls of brassy metal and the piles of supplies. There was no ramp to the upper level, but there was an alcove in the back of the room, illuminated by a golden light. N’tho stepped into the light. He felt a moment of weightlessness as he ascended and was deposited on the second level of the tower.

This was clearly where the Brute Major had intended to establish his headquarters. Here there was comms equipment and generators and a pile of shield projectors, stowed and ready for use. Lying on the floor were five dead bodies, three Jackal warriors and a pair of Grunt technical specialists. All five of them had died before they’d even drawn their weapons.

At the center of the communication center, Usze ‘Teham stood by a pedestal.

“Commander,” Usze greeted him as the two rangers arrived behind N’tho. “How fared the fight?”

N’tho’s mandibles pressed together, grimly. “I made a mistake, and it cost six of the Unggoy their lives.”(2)

“Mourn them when the time comes,” Usze said. “If the time comes.”

The red-armored Ascetic touched a control on the pedestal, and a holographic image crackled into existence. It was the High Prophet of Truth, formerly one of the three spiritual leaders of the Covenant empire, and instigator of the Great Schism that had pitched the Elites against the Brutes.

“My Dreadnought cannot rise. Even now it is engaged; in turning death into war for this new world. Do not relent until the heretic ships are smashed!”

“Now that he has been chased into a corner,” Orva remarked as he circled the pedestal. “He has turned to sermons to save his hide.”

“I saw plenty of these sermons at the Arbiter’s side, as we fought through the land of Africa,” Usze said. “Perhaps power has gone to the Hierarch’s head, now that the High Prophets of Mercy and Regret are no longer there to check his ambition.”

“The Forerunner built this station as a refuge for the contemplation of the holiest of holies. A land of solace where they could complete their most holy work. The heretics besmirch this land with their feet.”

“Endless prattle. We have nothing to learn from it,” N’tho declared. “Where did the Major-

The hologram shifted. No longer did it show an old San’shyuum in a gravity throne. Instead, it depicted an Elite wearing the armor of the Honor Guard that had once stood guard around the Hierarchs. N’tho was amazed. He had thought that all of the old honor guard had been stripped of their rank, and the position turned over to the Brutes. That Changing of the Guard had been the incident that sparked the Great Schism, throwing the Covenant civilization into civil war.

The Elite stood with head bowed. He breathed in, and then he spoke.

“So full of hate were our eyes
That none of us could see
Our war would yield countless dead
But never victory
So let us cast arms aside
And like discard our wrath”

The Elite lifted his head, and even though it was a holographic broadcast, N’tho could swear that the figure was looking at him.

“Brothers,” the Elite said. "High Charity has fallen. All that we have held sacred, all that we have sworn to defend, is gone. Swallowed by the Parasite. Do we think we can keep the Flood contained? No. Doubtlessly, the Flood has already broken through the blockade. It will spread unchecked throughout the galaxy, devouring all in its path."

A prickling sensation ran through N’tho’s mandibles. There was a conviction in the Honor Guard’s voice, a conviction that was infectious.

“The heart of our civilization is gone. High Charity, the shining light of our civilization, is nevermore! Think of your homeworlds, brothers! Now that the Parasite runs rampant, how long until your homeworlds go dark?”

"But it may yet be stopped. The Forerunner had the key. My name is K'huto 'Varlamee, and I ask for your help,"

The Honor Guard cut the transmission, and the image of the High Prophet of Truth returned, only to be dismissed as Usze powered down the pedestal. Through the space once occupied by a hologram, N’tho saw a Human Odee-Estee staring back at him.

“Well, he talked a big game,” Gunnery Sergeant Buck Reynolds mused as he strolled up to Usze’s position. N’tho had not seen him enter the room, but now he noticed another door that opened out into the courtyard.

“Is he still serving the Hierarch Truth?” N’tho asked. “Even after all that traitorous Prophet has done?”

“The Honor Guards were loyal even unto death,” one of the Rangers said. “But I did not know they were that loyal!”

“Of course,” Usze ‘Teham said. “‘Varalumee was the best of them.”

All eyes turned to the Ascetic.

“You’ve met him before?” N’tho asked.

“Did I not tell you?” the Elite in red armor countered. “Twice I was tested, and the Honor Guard of the Hierarchs sought to recruit me. The second time, K’huto came. For days, we sparred in the dueling circle, and in the lulls between combat, we spoke of scripture. I believe I know him quite well.”

“So, then, why does he still serve Truth?”

“Did he not say?” Orva demanded. The white-armored captain of the Rangers gestured toward the holographic pedestal. “He saw what we all saw! The Mendicant City, the heart of our civilization, swallowed by the Flood! He thinks that Truth will turn the Forerunners’ weapons against our common enemy!”."

“Hold on,” Buck said. “I wasn’t at this High Charity, but doesn’t Truth plan to wipe the whole galaxy clean? Isn’t that a little, uh, overkill?”

Silence reigned in the room as the Elites looked at each other.

“Do not be so certain, Human,” N’tho’s voice took on a somber tone. “The Parasite corrupts all that it touches, and Scriptures say even a single spore can pronounce the devastation of a world.”

Buck cocked his head. “Are we talking about a plague or a myth?”

N’tho’s mandibles flared in a rare moment of anger. “The Parasite is-

“Dammit,” Dutch entered the room, his SMG in hand and braced against his shoulder. “Rook, it looks like we’re late to the party.”

The other ODST simply shrugged before glancing around the room and making a circular motion with his hand.

“Right,” Dutch nodded. “We’ll secure the area, make sure that there aren’t any stragglers.”

As the two men broke off and began checking the rest of the tower for the enemy, the two specialists entered the room. The first one, Hockensmith, was carrying a large case under one arm. He looked around the room and then set it down on a table by a large Covenant-designed comm relay. The case opened to reveal a portable computer and a bunch of neatly-packed cables and tools.

“Human, what is this?” Usze asked.

“A care package from the intel boys,” the other Marine, Lance Corporal Frank Castillo said as he matched the Elite’s glare. Usze was at least a half-meter taller than him, but Frank Castillo was a big man himself. His standard-issue fatigues were stretched tight over his shoulders and biceps. “We jack that into an access point, and it should locate what we need to find.”

“And I got your access point right here,” Hawk said as he unplugged the comm relay from a Forerunner machine and plugged in his computer. “We’ll set up here and narrow down areas to search.”

N’tho’s mandibles took a hard set as his gaze shifted from one Marine to the other. Once upon a time, as short as a few weeks ago, Forerunner relics had been sacrosanct, and only the Prophets could examine their inner workings. Even if the Prophets had abandoned their station, and even if Humans weren’t the unclean beasts that the Hierarchs had claimed they were, this ‘jacking in’ rankled the warrior’s sensibilities. After all, the relics of the Forerunner might still be holy.

But they were short of time.

“Very well,” N’tho said, as he turned to the rangers. “Orva, go with the other Odee-Estees and secure this platform.”

The ranger clapped a plasma rifle to his chest and strode out of the room.

“Kadem,” N’tho ordered the other Elite ranger. “Check that comm node. The Brutes came here in search of a weapon. They may be talking to each other about it. And Usze-”

The Ascetic had been carefully studying the vacant holo-pedestal. When he turned to receive the order, his expression was utterly unreadable behind his full-faced mask.

“Will K'huto be a problem?” N’tho wondered.

“He certainly will,” Usze replied. “As are all those who still consider the False Prophet’s words worth consideration.”

---

1: Prij (Which can be pronounced as a contraction of ‘prestige’) is an honorific usually adopted by a Sangheili officer who commands other Sangheili in service of High Charity. While its use was controversial during the Great Schism and afterward, it largely seems to have escaped the ideological suppression that forced many Sangheili warriors to drop the ‘ee’ suffix from their name.

2: Unggoy is the Covenant name for the Grunts. Whereas “Elite” is a reasonably good translation of the Covenant word for Sangheili (Lit. ‘High-Caste) and “Brute” is a near direct translation of the Covenant slur for the Jiralhanae, “Grunt” is an entirely Human nickname.

“Jackal” is similarly a Human invention for the Kig-Yar, as the variety of epithets and slurs that the Covenant reserve for their mercenaries do not lend themselves to easy translatio

 

[MarkWarrior]

“Try this,” Kassak said. The green-armored Grunt opened a panel and fished his arm inside. “That coolant line always shakes loose.”

“A coolant line?” Mickey asked. ”Running to the reactor? We didn’t lose any fluid, did we?”

“Eayach, it’ll be fine,” Kassak said. “The reactor takes care of itself,”

Mickey stared at Kassak and then shifted his gaze to the other Grunt. Marmag was resting with his arms crossed and his rebreather unit to the wall, and when he noticed the Human’s gaze, he waggled his head in a way that reminded Mickey of a shrug.

“The reactor flamed out when the Phantom crashed,” Kassak said, oblivious to the other two and their silent conversation. “And when the coolant wouldn’t flow right, it refused to fire back up. Happens every time. The Prophets knew what they were doing when they designed the engines!”

Mickey managed to not ask Kassak if he was talking about the reactor or the engines. Those were two separate things on a Pelican, and an Albatross, and every other aerospace vehicle that Mickey knew of, and he was sure that the same was true for the Phantom too. It was a minor point, but everyone said that the Covenant didn’t understand their own technology, and Mickey was starting to wonder if that was true after all.

The Grunt threw his weight against a bundle of hoses and called out to his old friend. “Marmag, if you would do the honors… No, this one goes here, that one goes there!”

“Fine,” Marmag did something that Mickey couldn’t see, and then retired to his old position, crossing his arms again and going back to his half-sleep.

Nervously, Mickey turned to his console and keyed the ignition. A thrum ran through the dropship as the reactor came online and restored primary power to all of the subsystems. For a moment, the ODST had hope.

Then the Phantom shifted underneath his feet and the airframe groaned against the tree it had crashed into. Too late, Mickey realized that one of those subsystems was the engines.

---

Adam and Zaid, still standing watch on top of the dropship, were taken by surprise. The Phantom rocked underfoot and rose, throwing the two snipers off their feet. The ODST snatched his rifle, crouched to gain his balance, and triggered his jetpacks.

His jets flung him up off the dropship and away from the tower. Very suddenly, there was nothing beneath him. Just a chasm lined by massive tree trunks that fell away into a green mist. With his heart hammering, Adam made last-second course corrections and desperately fought for altitude.

The ODST almost didn’t make it. His knees clipped the edge of the next tower over, and he ducked and rolled so that he, not his rifle, took the brunt of the fall.

“Dammit, Crespo!” Adam swore at the pilot. “Warn a bloke next-”

He’d landed on the next tower over, about a story above the Phantom’s crash site. From his vantage point, he saw Zaid make his landing. The mercenary had been hauled into the air by his Drone, and now the bug was gently lowering him to the deck beneath the Phantom. The Jackal brushed wingdust off his shoulders as soon as he landed and then craned his neck up to stare at the trooper.

“To Hell with that,” Adam breathed.

The Jackal sniper cocked his head. Wordlessly, the Jackal trotted over to some kind of energy projector that was set at the edge of his platform. The ODST had seen it earlier and mistaken it for a thermal vent of some kind. But the moment that the Jackal stepped in the blue exhaust, he was launched up and over the chasm that separated the two towers, landing right next to Adam.

“What was that?” the sniper’s translator hissed. “Couldn’t quite hear you.”

Adam stared in horror at the thermal vent, which he now recognized as an advanced form of the gravity lifts that he’d seen the Covenant employ. “That’s even worse!”

“What?” the sniper asked. “That?”

“Yeah, that. I’m never setting foot in one of those things,” Adam said as he cocked a thumb at his jetpack. “I’m going to stick to tech that I can trust.”

“Oh, but you can trust it! It’s Forerunner-make, and it’s as sure as the sunrise!” Zaid bragged. “Not like High Charity’s knockoffs! You never know when those gravlifts will stutter and die.”

The sniper stretched his left leg, and his ankle made a loud pop. “Ask me how I know.”

“No, I don’t think I will,” Adam shifted further away from the Jackal. “Mickey, you got that dropship fixed upright, yeah?”

“That’s a negative,” Mickey sighed over the radio. “We’ve got the antigrav back up, but we’re only going to be able to sputter along the forest canopy for a bit. These Grunts seem to know what they’re doing, but we’re going to have to take it slow.”

“Copy that,” Adam glanced at the green-painted Phantom. “Captain, I’m assuming you heard that?”

“I heard it,” Dare responded. “I need you and the other two in the East Tower. We need a plan of action.”

---

“Well, you asked for us,” Adam said as he tucked his helmet under one arm and lit a cigarette. “What’s the plan, boss?”

“One sec,” Hawk touched a hand to his headpiece. “Got one of the few satellites the ‘Dawn brought with her passing overhead, standby for telemetry… Yup. here it comes.”

“Transferring to datapad… and this here holotank,” Castillo gestured with the tacpad toward the Covenant holo-pedestal. In a moment, he unplugged the tacpad and passed it to Dare. “Here Captain, this should give us a better look at things.”

“Got it,” Dare pulled a small disc from her pack and synched it to the pad. “School circle! We’ve got to identify key areas and get moving!”

She cloned the information on the datapad to another and passed the two datapads around to the ODSTs. N'tho and Usze read over their shoulders but did not take up the unfamiliar Human devices. Orva, on the other hand, stalked around the group as if he wasn’t used to standing still.

The holotank at the center of the circle hummed to life. Instead of a mad Prophet or a Sangheili with strange loyalties, it showed a lone forested mountain.

Castello cleared his throat and spoke. “The Brutes found what appears to be a weapon emplacement in the forest, what they call the Languid Sentry’. It's a huge battle station of some sort, roughly five kilometers across. The Ops center on the Shadow of Intent originally mistook it for a mountain. Ground penetrating radar shows it to be something else.”

To the naked eye, it really did look like a mountain. The holograph complemented the illusion, making it hard to tell the difference between the structure and the foliage that grew around it.

The scans on the datapad showed that what appeared to be craggy rock faces and placid lakes poking out of the trees were actually towers and expanses of bare metal. Six leaf-like platforms radiated out from the central hub, alternately short and wide like shovelheads, or long and narrowing to a point like an arrowhead. Each platform was host to support towers and strange cantilevered structures. The central hub itself was occupied almost entirely by a thick mess of towers.

“Where are the Brutes?” N’tho asked as he read over Buck’s shoulder.

“Radar’s only picked up one dropship,” Castello explained. “It’s that one on Platform Three.”

“One dropship,” Buck replied, tapping the image on his datapad. “So between us and them, it should be an even- whoa, never mind.”

Looking closer, Buck realized that what he thought was a Phantom docked on one of the outlying platforms was a Lich-Class heavy dropship. It took his mind a minute to adjust the scale of the whole structure.

“Hawk, just how big is this… this weapon emplacement?”

“This Languid Sentry is just under five kilometers across,” the Marine replied. “It’s a pretty big one.”

“Five kilometers,” Dutch said. “Hell, even if a hundred Brutes rode in on that dropship, it’s going to be a challenge to find them!”

“That works both ways, and it may be to our advantage,” Usze said. “Against a company of Jiralhanae, our numbers are not sufficient for a stand-up fight.”

“Aye,” Adam said. “But that station is plenty big enough to play the ambush game, whittle their numbers down a bit.”

“We do not have the time for that!” Orva cried. “Our fleet is in battle right now. Every moment that we are delayed is a small victory for Truth.”

“I don’t know about that, look at this terrain,” Dare said. “There’s plenty of towers in the center and on the outlying platforms. Each of them is overgrown with trees. That’s the ideal terrain for Orva’s Rangers to operate in, and both of our snipers are jump-mobile. I think we can negate the Brutes’ numerical advantage.”

“Indeed, but time is short. My Rangers would be of better use seeking out the control room.”

“Taking that control room doesn’t do us much good if the Brutes bottle us up inside,” Buck said.

“Absolutely,” Dare agreed. “Ideally, we would destroy one of their force concentrations, and force the rest to scatter. Your Rangers are good for that. And we should eliminate their transportation so they can’t quickly relocate or regroup.”

N’tho spoke up. “The Lich must be destroyed. This is a priority. Our Phantom would be no match for the Lich, even had your pilot not crashed it. And that grand conveyance has the weapons to hunt us down.”

“We can take care of that,” Dutch replied.

All three of the Elites gave the ODST a look. “Do not be so sure, Human,”

“I’ve run the simulations,” the ODST replied. “Liches are hardy, but we’ve brought anti-armor weapons. I think we should bait this thing out into the open as soon as possible, so we can remove it from the playing board.”

“If Dutch says he can take it down, then it’s goin’ down,” Buck glared at the Elite.

“This is no mere Phantom to be taken out with your primitive weaponry,” Usze chastised. “This is a Lich, with everything that it entails.”

“More than that,” Orva added. The ranger captain reached over Adam’s shoulder and brushed a claw over the Lich. “That is an armed pattern, and doubtlessly armored as well.”

“Well, I guess we’ll just have to wait and see who’s proven right,” Dutch bit out through clenched teeth, his fingers drumming against the magazine of the SMG that was slung under his shoulder. “I mean, if that Lich is that tough, we might as well abort the mission right now, because it’s going to be dogging us all over the OZ.”

“That is true,” Usze conceded.

“Perhaps you boys could pull off the same trick you pulled in Mombassa,” Dare suggested. “If we capture the Lich, that takes it out of the Brutes’ hands, and secures our transportation back to the fleet.”

“A daring idea,” N’tho said with more than a trace of mirth as he circled around the group. He stared at the holoprojection of the station, and Buck swore that the Elite was tempted to go for it, but then the Elite clapped his mandibles in the negative. “But it is impossible. Had I a lance of infiltrators at my back, I would do it. But we have none, and the Brutes know we are coming.”

“For once, I agree with the split-lip,” Buck said. “No way we get that lucky twice.”

“Then strike it from the skies,” Orva declared. “Fight the Brutes if we must. Then we make all haste for the control room-”

“Sure thing,” Hawk said as he went back to typing on the laptop (Field computer?) “So long as you can tell us where that battle station’s control room is.”

“Is that not what you were brought along for?”

“Funny,” the Marine replied. “We can’t find any presence for that battle station in the local network. Can’t even ping it. If I had to guess, that platform is an independent battle station with its own network, and it probably only communicates with the Ark on a high level. We’ll need to be on-site to patch in.”

“So you’ll have to come with us?” Dare asked, doubtfully.

“‘fraid so, ma’am,” Castello said. “But if you’re going to shut down the Brutes’ transportation, you’ll need us on-site anyway. Someone’s gotta shut down the trams.”

“Trams?” N’tho asked. The Spec Ops Sangheili leaned closer to the holoprojector, studying the holographic model of the battle station.

“Yeah. You know, multiple cars strung together, run on rails-”

“I know, Human,” the Elite retorted. “How do you know that there are trams?”

“I’m taking an educated guess. See that long thin structure that runs around the perimeter? It connects all of the individual platforms. You see similar structures on some of the largest space stations that Humanity ever built.”

N’tho glanced at Usze, and the ascetic nodded.

“Yes, brother, that does sound familiar.”

“Oh, good. You’ve seen one of these things?” Dutch asked.

“Not as such,” Usze replied. “But perhaps some have. In the time of the Forerunner, they built enough Watchstations to blanket the stars, and then they set them to defend harborages and habitats. These Watchstations were all but wiped out in the war against the Flood. Few were ever found, and none intact.”

The Ascetic carefully took a pad from Dare and examined the image closer. “All I know is that the Forerunners built their Watchstations with towers and trams as if they were made to be dwelled in. But they also carried the most potent weapons imaginable. The thirty-two supreme plasma lances that defended High Charity were taken from the Watchstation.”

“So if the Brutes take this station?” Dutch asked.

“It could decide the conflict above in a matter of minutes.”

“Then I guess we have to capture it,” Dutch began.

“Or we could blow it up,” Mickey pulled a can of C-7 foaming explosive from his belt and tossed it between his hands. “Either’s fine by me.”

The room rang with the shouts of all three Elites.

“That’s it, then,” Dare said. “We’re taking that station.”

 

[MarkWarrior]

"Here it is!" The Jackal screeched. "I knew it had to be here!"

"I'm sorry?" Dare asked as she followed N'tho 'Sroam into the room. She stared at the structure that dominated the space, a scaffold of Forerunner metal built around a box with transparent sides. It looked like a terrarium large enough to hold a family of Humans.

"What am I looking at?"

"It is a sealed conveyance, K'ptain," said a Sangheili ranger, the one who had discovered the room and called the team down here. "It travels directly from one location to another. I saw it's like upon the surface of the second Sacred Ring."

"It had to be here!" the Jackal repeated. "How else did the Prophets' toadies get here? I never saw a dropship!"

"And it would have taken too long to distribute troops to the outlying platforms with a single Lich," Dare mused. "So they used the Ark's own transports."

"Indeed. And where the Brutes have traveled, so shall we!" N'tho declared as he pulled out a communicator. "Payip, gather the Unggoy unto me. We journey forth!"

"N'tho, do you think that's a good idea?" The Brutes likely set up an operations center at the station where this thing came from… and I don't see a way to steer."

"I'm sure they have, but we will catch them unaware. Usze slew the signals lance before they could send an alarm, he is sure of it."

"I don't know," Dare said. Walking around the elevator, she saw that what she thought was a box was more of an elongated hexagon, which looked disturbingly like a coffin. Or the basket one might put all of one's eggs in.

"Can't be worse than Plan A," Buck told her. "Mickey said he's almost down an engine."

"It'll have to do. Commander, I recommend that the Rangers that have joined us ride in the Phantom."

"We are of one mind," N'tho said.

Dare keyed her own radio. "Dutch, get the ODSTs down here. The Marines too."

---

"We'll leave when we're good and ready," Corporal "Hawk" Hockensmith said as Lance Corporal Castillo packed a Satcom dish into a carry case.

"Funny," Dutch said. "I'm pretty sure the lady said 'right now.'"

"Some things can only be done so fast," Hockensmith replied. Text and diagrams flitted across the laptop's screen as it pulled data from the network and closed security protocols. "Go on without us. We'll catch up in a few minutes."

"Not happening. I leave when you leave."

"Fine," Hawk said. He shot a glance over his shoulder. "How about you, hingehead?"

The Elite ranger stood still as a statue, a pair of plasma rifles at the low ready, completely impassive behind his helmet. At long last, he said, "I leave when you leave."

"What's the matter, don't you trust us?" Castillo asked.

"I have seen what Humans do to the works of the Forerunner."

Those words hung in the air as Castillo finished packing and Dutch waited impatiently. Hockensmith pointedly ignored the Elite altogether, until the Ranger spoke again.

"Humans, you inquire of Forerunner systems like a Prophet, or a pirate. Where did you learn to do this?"

"That's class-" Hawk said gruffly, but he was cut off by Castillo.

"We were both intrusion specialists, but mostly we cracked Covenant systems. Then we deployed to Delta Halo, and got hands-on experience with Forerunner tech."

"Delta, you call it? You were on the second sacred ring?"

"We were in the walker when Sergeant Johnson kicked in the front door so the Arbiter could kick Tartarus's ass. If we all survive, I'll tell you the story over drinks."

"Drinks?" The Ranger asked. "Spirits are forbidden to a Sangheili warrior."

"Oh, we're going to get along *just fine*," Castillo drawled.

One of the diagrams on the laptop locked in place, and was replaced by a ripple of light moving through a diamond grid.

"We're good to go," Hawk said as he snapped the laptop shut. "And not a moment too soon."

---

The elevator swayed as it drifted through the trees, leaving Sergeant McMurtrie with a feeling as if he had been drinking for far too long. The shaking of the platform was worse than riding a pod down from orbit for God's sakes! And the forest could be seen out all sides and down through a window in the floor. He could see the abyss yawning below, and he was sure that the abyss was staring back at him.

In a SOEIV pod, there were half a dozen systems to keep you from digging your own grave, all of them tried and true. But if the gravetic magic that kept the elevator aloft failed, it would become an overcrowded elevator ride straight to Hell, and Adam would spend the rest of eternity sharing a grave with two dozen stinking Grunts. That thought terrified the trooper, no matter how often Zaid insisted that Forerunner tech was "Sure as the sunrise."

"You know what this reminds me of?" Dutch called out from the front. "That glass bridge that sticks out over Marineris Valley. Has anyone else ever walked that thing?"

Adam closed his eyes and tried to keep his breakfast down.

"Marineris Valley has trees, but nothing like this," Dare said.

The trees loomed like wooden skyscrapers, rising out of darkness and disappearing into the canopy above. Only a dim light penetrated to this level, so dim that Dare saw she saw bioluminescent life glittering below.

Boughs as big as a two-lane highway split off from the trunk of each tree, reached out and intermingled with the boughs of other trees. On Earth, trees would avoid growing together in such a way. But here the branches formed an intersection so structured and planned that it had to be deliberate, and they sprouted foliage so dense that Dare saw ponds cupped in dense mats of moss.

"This is incredible," Dare said. "I've seen the Redwood Forest on Earth. These trees have those redwoods beat by an order of magnitude."

"Mirim trees," N'tho proclaimed. "They grow for many tens of thousands of years. This forest must have been planted prior to the cataclysm of Halo."

"The oldest redwood is just five thousand years old… what about those branch intersections?"

"Good eye! The key to the Mirim trees' strength is how they grow together. One mighty bough will seek another, and the wood of many trees will fuse into one. Thus does one tree lend its strength to the next."

"That strength may be more than the sum of the individual trees. Look at the moss and the ponds growing on the intersections. I bet those provide nutrients that don't have to be pumped up from the ground."

"That reminds me of something," Buck said. "There's a proverb about how a bundle of sticks is stronger than many single sticks. Might apply to us, no?"

"We have such a proverb as well," N'tho replied.

"But perhaps it is not so applicable," said Usze 'Teham. "Mirim trees will only bond with another of their own kind."

"We share a common enemy," Dare said. "That should be enough."

The spaces between the trees were large enough that clouds condensed and rained. The rain pattered gently against the glass, sometimes falling so thick that the trailing Phantom was lost. Dare called out to Mickey while Buck glared daggers at the Ascetic.

N'tho wandered through the elevator, nodding in approval or delivering a word of encouragement to the Unggoy as he saw fit. He passed the two Marines who had pointedly donned filtration masks, and then Zaid and his pet Yanme'e. He finally arrived at the prow of the elevator, besides the Odee-Estee called "Dutch" and the one they called "Rhukee".

"You ever see anything like this before?" Dutch asked, his faceplate briefly depolarized.

The Rookie simply shook his head. He aimed his newly captured beam rifle at a target far down below through the glass flooring, peering through the scope as his VISR pinged and highlighted points of interest. He tried to get a read of how far below the forest floor was, but it was unclear if he was looking at the ground or another layer of fog.

Then, something moved.

Rook pinged Dutch with a part of his VISR, highlighting a winged creature that flowed from one giant nest to another.

"That, is either a dragon or a relative of some kind…" Dutch trailed off as a large eyeball focused on them for a second before the flying reptile vanished into the trees.

"Yeah," The Rookie finally muttered. "Don't want to end up in a dark alley with it or its cousins."

As the two ODST's conversation drifted off the trees fell away from the elevator, and the darkness of the forest deepened. It took a long time for N'tho to understand what he was looking at, even after his eyes adjusted to the dim light.

For a moment, he thought the elevator, this sealed conveyance, had taken leave of the Ark and was now sailing through the void. Stars abounded in every direction, and in the distance, he saw a smokey trail of light, like the galactic arm in the night sky.

They were beneath the Watchstation. The shadow that it cast over the forest deprived the Mirim trees of sunlight, and so the forest only grew high in the gaps between the platforms. This created a vast, cavernous space where the bioluminescent life of the forest floor could rise above the canopy.

"Holy smokes," Dutch whispered in awe, an opinion echoed by the murmurs of two dozen Unggoy.

"I know not of smoke," N'tho said. "But we are indeed blessed to see such sights. What wonders dwell among the might of the Forerunner."

The gondola climbed until it was gliding along the underside of the platform. Every inch of that expanse of metal was covered in lichens and moss and strange creeping vines that would never know the warmth of sunlight. In the distance, the spec ops commander could see the bulk of the central hub, and how it hung below the rest of the Watchstation. That distant streak of light was smeared across its surface, trailing ever down until it was lost in the dark.

Did the station descend all the way to the surface of the Ark? Did it hover there under its own power, or did the Forerunner anchor the station there, perhaps permanently?

The elevator rocked to a halt and began to ascend.

---

"Mickey, the elevator has begun its final approach. We will be on the surface soon. Wait for the all-clear before you insert the Rangers."

"Will do, ma'am," the trooper replied over the radio. In the distance, Dare saw the running lights of the Phantom gleam as the dropship turned and flew toward the tip of this platform. "The Shadow of Intent has not updated me on the Lich's location yet."

"Keep an eye out," Dare said. "Don't risk our only ride."

She took one last look around before she donned her helmet. Some things had to be seen with one's own eyes, even if she could see better with VISR. As her helmet initialized, she found that she had a new creep message from Buck.

>Veronica, I think that Phantom might really be our only ride back.

Dare sent a reply as she checked her M7 submachine gun.

>The Elites called this a battle station. That implies that it can move under its own power.

>Maybe. It's so overgrown, I don't know if it can safely take off.

>This battlestation is exactly what we were sent to find. We have to try.

Dare tapped her magazine pouches and laid a hand on her grenades. When no reply came, she subvocalized another text message.

>We'll find out when we take the control room. If it can lift off, we'll fly it up to the portal home.

>Won't our Sangheili friends have something to say about that?

>Better to ask forgiveness than beg permission, Buck.

>With guns this big, we won't be asking.

>Exactly.

Dare hoisted her pack and strapped it down just as the elevator ascended into an elevator shaft. The forest was gone in an instant.

"The Brutes hold the platform above us, unaware!" N'tho boasted as the Grunts formed ranks. "They may know that the elevator approaches, but they do not know that we are coming. You will make them rue that ignorance!"

The Grunts cheered, and even Dare found herself grinning. That Elite was born to boast.

"Strike swiftly, cut them down, but spare their supplies where you can, for we have greater need of their arms and materiel than they!"

"To quote the old man, 'One bushel of the enemy's supplies is worth twenty of our own!'" Dutch called out.

"Indeed! Wisely said!"

"Commander, I recommend sending Zaid's drone to scout ahead. Usze 'Teham as well."

"Do so," N'tho said to Zaid. Turning to the Elite in the ascetic harness, he said "Report back what you see, and refrain from combat unless you spy the opportunity for a decisive blow!"

"Rook, Dutch, you're with me," Dare replied. "We'll punch out, establish a line of retreat for the Separatists."

Usze cocked his head at Dare's last word, while N'tho corrected her.

"Captain Dare, I require that your soldiers support my troops."

"Commander 'Sroam, I've seen you in action. You charge right where the fight is the thickest. That's admirable, but we may emerge in the middle of the Brutes' camp. You may need that line of retreat."

"I may have greater need of your troopers. My Unggoy are valorous, but against Brutes, their cutting edge will be blunted."

Dare gestured to the two sniper rifles carried by McMurtrie and Rook. "We should be able to provide fire support from the rear."

"Hey!" Rook snarled when Usze 'Teham seized his beam rifle and nearly lifted it out of his grip. The trooper hooked his arm through the sling and yanked it back.

"What have you done with that weapon?" the red-armored Elite demanded.

"I made a few improvements," the trooper replied.

"Improvements? Some would say sacrilege."

"Sacrilege?" Dutch demanded in turn. "It's a tool, not an art piece."

"That is a prostitution of the original design," Usze countered as he pointed at the sling. His finger lingered over the ragged hole that Rook had cut in the nanolaminate stock. "And indeed, it has been inartfully done."

N'tho spoke a few sharp words in Sangheili. Dare didn't hear the translation because Rook squared off against Usze and asked "What's the point of this civil war if you're going to keep worshipping the weapons that the Prophets made for you?"

Usze seemed to have checked himself after N'tho's rebuke. "Human, I realize that this schism has been a boon for your species, but foolish is the farmer who reckons his harvest by the spring rain! We fight a power-mad Prophet and a caste of Brutes who dream themselves the new masters. Of the Sangheili, some seek to abolish the old order, while more-" he clasped a hand to his harness "-Seek to amend it, and many more wish to restore it. You would be wise to tread carefully among the high-caste until you know where their hearts lie."

"Duly noted," Rook replied.

"I'm still hung up on that spring rains part," Buck said. "What's the Old Farmer's Almanac got to do with this?"

"Guns, he means 'don't count your chickens before they hatch,'" Dutch said.

Veronica Dare glanced around the crowded elevator. "Lay off the egg metaphors. That's an order."

"Don't be a basket case, Veronica," Buck said with a smile she could see through his visor.

"I see daylight!" Adam shouted, pointing overhead. "Lock and load!"

---

"When Commander 'Sroam summons us, make haste for his position, and then depart in equal haste," Orva said to PFC Micheal Crespo. "My Rangers can disembark in a matter of moments."

"Right, a hot drop," Mickey replied. "I've seen Rangers deploy from a Phantom before, so I have an idea of how slow I need to fly."

"Good," the white-armored Elite replied. He was pacing around the Phantom's cabin, checking one display after another. Mickey wasn't sure if the Ranger captain was more afraid of a sudden attack or a sudden engine failure.

Then the Elite looked up at the windshield and out into the sensor-enhanced view of the forest, and he seemed to calm.

"Such beauty is entirely too rare in the galaxy."

"I know," Mickey agreed. "I've seen plenty of worlds in this war. Most of them are dustballs."

"Most, but not all. I walked upon one of your worlds, a planet blessed with ancient forests. I lamented the day that the Prophets condemned it to be glassed. We named it Sal'Shaom, and it would have been a crown jewel even among our own worlds."

"Sounds like you are talking about Arcadia."

"Perhaps I am. I did not know the given names for any of your worlds, save for Reetch."

"Maybe that's for the best," Mickey said. "I'm not sure that I want to know where you fought."

There was a long pause. Orva was wearing a full-faced helmet, and even if he wasn't Mickey didn't know if he'd be able to read the Elite's expression. He certainly had enough trouble reading the warrior's body language. But when Orva spoke again, Mickey thought he recognized a conciliatory tone, even through his helmet translator.

"Human, you said that you have seen Rangers deploy to the field of battle. If our paths have crossed before this mission, I would like to know. I would find it to be… a most amusing turn of fate. Perhaps even a worthy addition to my family's battle hymns."

Mickey smiled in spite of himself, but then his console chimed.

"That's the commander, sounding the all-clear," he said. "Let's get you topside."

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 6

“Thought there’d be more security,” Dutch said as he swapped to a fresh mag. “Two Brutes and a handful of Grunts isn’t what I’d have put here.”

“Agreed,” Buck said as he glanced around the room. The terminal the squad had arrived at reminded the gunnery sergeant of a VTOL terminal from his homeworld. The elevator had arrived under a mezzanine, the third of seven such structures in a row, and all the others were empty of their glass elevators. Ramps led down from the upper levels of the mezzanines to an elevated walkway that ran along the opposite wall, and the mezzanines were half-separated from each other by walls that reached up to the ceiling.

Now that the Loyalists were eliminated, Buck was searching the rest of the terminal, deliberately panning between the positions that could be used as weapons emplacements. His link with the squad highlighted the area where he looked, and he saw Rook following his gaze with the beam rifle.

“Couple of machine guns here, a portable shield there,” Dutch muttered. “A four-man team could hold this place for hours.”

“There is much that could have been done to defend this location. That it was not immediately apparent, does not mean that we should not remain vigilant,” N’tho spoke, his mandibles flaring as he began to look for cloaked figures. “The Jiralhanae are brutal, but they are not without intelligence.”

“Agreed! Watch for landmines!” Dare ordered.

Dutch swept the empty mezzanines with his battle rifle. “Looks like the other elevators are gone. This would be the perfect place to plant a few claymores, leave a surprise for the Brutes when they return.”

“Good idea, but we don’t have that many mines with us,” Dare said as she shouldered her pack and tossed a pair of grenade-like devices to Buck. He clipped the devices to his belt and grabbed an ammo crate. “Save them to support our assault.”

The team grabbed their gear and moved through the terminal. N’tho took point with his Grunts, Usze disappeared, and the ODSTs brought up the rear, leapfrogging down the elevated walkway. They soon found the entrance to the terminal: a broad, empty doorway that opened up to a flight of stairs that led down to the surface of the platform.

The platform was dominated by tall skyscrapers and broad, squat buildings, which fit together in a way that reminded Buck of the elevator base at New Mombassa, or some of the planned cities from his home colony. All of it was overgrown and had been so for a very long time. Plants had been living and dying here for many thousands of years, enough that there were some very impressive trees growing out of a very thick layer of topsoil. Thin wispy mist was drifting through the platform, deepening the dark shadows.

Buck and Dare took point. They crept out the doorway, VISR active and scanning the ground and sky for signs of Covenant Loyalists. There was none.

“Looks clear to me,” Buck said, and he saw Dare nod in agreement. Dare signaled the all-clear, and sent another message to Mickey.

–
–

As soon as Adam and Zaid were clear of the building, the Drone seized Zaid by the shoulders and carried him off into the trees which had overgrown the platform. Adam craned his neck up to watch the Jackal’s ascent. He immediately calculated a series of jumps that would put him up there, but he hesitated to fire his jetpack. The Series-8 Single Operator Lift Apparatus had a significant and distinctive noise signature, which was the technical way of saying that it was loud as shit and any Brute who had heard it before would recognize it again. Adam needed to gain some altitude, but as a scout he couldn’t-

Light bloomed from the other platforms. Stuttering lances of energy speared into the sky. A few seconds later, the echoing roar of the energy discharge rolled over Adam’s position. That was his cue. He triggered his jetpacks and jumped from platform to balcony to branch until he landed in a tree about forty meters from the Jackal’s position.

“What the Hell just happened?” Adam snarled. “Did the Brutes just fire the guns?”

No, no, Human!” Zaid called back. “The Forerunner’s machines just emit light for no reason, and they do it on the regular. The light is pretty, so the Prophets and the Sangheili think it must be holy!”

“Fine,” Adam said as he keyed his comms. “Captain, I see activity from the station. Our expert doesn’t think they’re firing the guns yet, but time is short.”

“Understood. Advance and get eyes on Brute positions. We’re on our way.”

“Will do,” Adam replied as he turned on his VISR and swept the ground below him. A mist permeated the whole station, but it wasn’t thick enough to mess with his VISR. The platform was studded with high-rise buildings that were separated by overgrown streets, but he saw no sign of Brute activity. For good measure, he pulled out a motion detector, but the only motion it found came from the direction of Rhik’t’’s wings.

“Zaid, get mobile,” he ordered the mercenary. “I’ll reposition when the lights fire again. We need to find the Brutes’ location.”

“That way, Human.”

Adam snapped his head around and bit back a curse as he looked to where the Jackal was pointing. VISR and his motion tracker were both billion-dollar sensor fusion devices, and yet they’d been outdone by a buzzard with the Mark One… well, the Type-25 Eyeball.

“... Wait, where? I don’t see them?”

“I don’t either, Human, but they’re that way. They’re holed up in the biggest building on the platform, sure as the sunrise!”

Zaid was grabbed by his Drone again and carried off into the trees. A moment later, the lights roared again and Adam leaped to follow.

“How can you be so sure?” Adam asked.

“I saw their emblem on the sermon pedestal back in the terminal. Three stacked diamonds over a Scylla crest. That’s the Ornamental Third Dragoon Legion of…” The Jackal scratched as its beak. “Ya know, I don’t think I ever got the name of the planet they’re from. Regardless, I’ve worked with these knuckleheads before.”

“You don’t say?”

“I do say. They had a Demon menacing their flanks on Qwiss-Ullo-Ullo, so they hired me to be an extra pair of eyes for their kill team. Of course, the Major ignored all my advice, and the Demon sprung the blade on us. And when I was the only one to walk back, Captain-Major Myddius decided my contract wasn’t worth-”

“Yeah, I get the picture. Do you know how they fight?”

Another leap. Now Adam could see the base of a great building taking shape.

“Well, they’ll be holed up in the biggest building available, because that’s how Myddius and his officers think. Patrols will be kept close if they don’t know that we’re coming, because they’re from the Gallornorn tribe, and the officers don’t trust the rank and file not to mess with the shiny Forerunner gewgaws. But the real threat is their aircraft. A dragoon dropship doesn’t just carry troops to the battlefield, it stays in the fight and supports the troops.”

“Yeah. We saw their Lich on satellite, and we brought weapons to counter. I’m not worried about that.”

The Jackal paused and cocked his head at Adam. “Are you-”

“What about the troops?”

“Brutes. Lots and lots of Brutes. You’ll see a lot of gas-suckers too, but not many Kig-Yar like me. Old Myddius, the idiot, doesn’t put much stock in my kind.”

“He hired you, didn’t he?”

“My boy, I did mention how they honored my contract,” Zaid groused. “Or was I interrupted before I got to that part?”

Adam half-heard that retort. He landed in the fork of a tree and found he had a clear view of the enemy encampment, and his VISR was already highlighting and showing the enemy forces patrolling around the building below. The Brutes were occupying a building built at the base of a stocky trifurcated tower.

The building looked like someone had taken a stepped pyramid from Earth, sliced it in half along a pair of opposite corners, and then pushed it up against the base of the larger tower. There was a large entrance at the corner of the base, but to either side a large segmented ramp led to the upper levels. At the top, the ramps reached a sheltered structure and disappeared behind a pair of cantilevers, where the Brutes had placed a trio of Shade turrets.

“Captain, we’ve got a lot of Brutes to cut through if we want to take this platform,” he began sending location and data pings over to Dare. “Get ready for a fight. Because they’re packing some heavy gear. I’m seeing Fuel Rods, Carbines, and Brute shots here.”

“Leave the Shades to me, Human!"

---

“Alright, I’m making my run right now,” Mickey said. “Tell your Rangers the doors open in five, we’re coming in hot!”

Orva wasn’t sure what five Mickey was talking about, but he had other questions as well. He glanced from the pilot’s console and then the gunner’s station, trying to decipher the situation on the ground.

“What foes do we face? Have the ground teams yet joined battle?”

“The lady says it’s all clear. Now get your men ready.”

“Fly well, Human. May the gods find favor in you.”

With his mandibles drumming, Orva spun and strode into the troop deck. No sooner than he arrived when the side doors dropped. Eighteen Sangheili warriors had been standing at attention. Now they dove into the rushing wind by threes, and they were gone in a handful of heartbeats.

Orva’s pace quickened into a run, and he jumped through the portal at the center of the deck. His thrusters roared to life, fighting the slipstream and the gravity lift until he came to rest in the trees. All around him were squat buildings and boughs full of eager Rangers.

In the distance, through the gathering fog he saw a great towering building, and below he saw the ground team making their way to it.

“Prij N’tho!” he called. “My warriors are at the ready!”

“Brothers, we must move forward,” N’tho replied as he marshaled his Unggoy. “The Brutes will not hesitate for much longer, and I would not have us taken by surprise.”

Orva waved for his Rangers to follow him, and they flew through the trees.

---

Buck led his team ahead of N’tho and his Unggoy. Their VISR units could cut through the gloom, and they did a better job of concealing themselves in the mist.

Strangely, if it weren’t for the trees growing over it all, the low, angular buildings on this platform would remind him of New Mombassa. The mist had a strange quality, like the fog that had hung in the air after the Solemn Penance had jumped to Slipspace. Or the ash clouds that had rolled through New Alexandria.

The lights speared into the sky again, like glassing beams. It gave Buck a momentary fright, and it also nearly gave the squad’s position away. The sudden light revealed a Brute leading a patrol, not fifteen meters away.

Buck froze, and options raced through his head. They could eliminate the Grunts, but there was no silent way to take out a shielded Brute-

The Brute’s shout of alarm died when a ghostly energy blade flashed, and the Brute’s head rolled off his shoulders.

“Drop the rest!” Buck snarled as he raised his submachine gun and put two bullets through a Grunt’s facemask.

Coughs echoed up and down the line of ODSTs. It was over in seconds, save for additional bursts coming from Buck’s right. Buck saw more flashes, including the electric green of a plasma weapon discharge, and then silence.

“You good, Rook?”

A click in the affirmative signaled readiness as the quiet ODST reappeared, the blood of a few Grunts on his armor.

Buck made a mental note to check the trooper's headspace, see where he was at. New Mombassa had been bad enough, but Buck had been able to link up with the squad. Rook had been trapped alone in Baby Kong-occupied territory for a day and a night. That kind of mission tended to weigh soldiers down.

“Sergeant, we’ve got fog rolling in, visibility is going to be cut off,” Dare informed McMurtie. “Be advised, we’re going to have to push through it before we can engage. You may need to stay silent until the fog’s past.”

“Understood,” Adam’s voice sounded muffled. “Once the fog’s lifted, there’s a tower we may want to clear out first, looks like there’s some serious traffic running through it. Sending location now and then going Comms silent until you call for me.”

“Understood, Dare, out.”

At long last, the Brute’s fortress loomed out of the fog. Dare ordered everyone to come to a halt short of where the foliage thinned out and gave way to bare metal deck.

The dark forms of Loyalist troops patrolled around and atop the fortress, and VISR waypoints glimmered over the ones that the advance team had already marked. A yellow diamond over each of the Shade turrets for Zaid, and a numbered green chevron over a Brute captain that Adam had claimed. The troopers on the ground swiftly called their own shots, and Buck assigned one of the turrets to Adam. He wasn’t about to gamble an ambush on a buzzard’s bravado.

Usze disappeared. Somehow, there was a difference between having a cloaked assassin at your back, and nothing there at all.

“Adam says that the HQ is at the peak. That will be our target. Take them out before they call for help,” Dare ordered.

“Usze will silence them!” N’tho boasted. “We must wait for his signal.”

“No can do,” Buck said. “They’re coming right for us.”

A lance of Grunts had formed up with three Brutes, and they were marching right for the ground team. The turrets were swiveling to cover their exit.

“Usze doesn’t have time,” Dare said. “Can Orva’s grenadiers suppress their HQ?”

“They are armed with fulminate guns,” N’tho replied, which Buck took to be the name for fuel rod guns. “I do not wish the Brutes’ equipment to be destroyed outright!”

Castillo unlimbered a pump-action grenade launcher from his pack. “I can do a little area denial.”

Dare looked at Buck, and Buck nodded back. Perfect was the enemy of good, and this ambush was as close to good as it got.

“Let’s go.”