Mission 4 - Part 2 - Space Battle

[Wax™]

OK Covenant and UNSC ships outside the planet may fight one another or you could post your ships in slip-space etc, but I would recommend hanging back because the space sentinels would not be happy if you got all hostile xD.

Post away.

[tincanhitman]

UNSC Party Hard
Captain Matthew Temple
Over forruner planet.

Captain Matthew Temple scowled at the approaching...robot...crab...thing.

"Sir! its firing on us!" his weapons officer called out pressing keys.

"Fire archers one through twelve." he said calmly pacing the deck. His officer nodded to himself and pressed a few keys, suddenly the ship shook, signaling the archers departure. Matthew stopped pacing and watched as the nuclear devices slammed into the robot, causing its shields to flare.

Why the hell couldn't the UNSC find him a target without shields? He pushed the thought out as the eleventh archer caused the robots shields to fail, and the last archer slammed into it, causing its right pincer to be torn off. Matthew smirked.

"I saw that one sweetie!" moma said suddenly springing to life on the holo pad in front of him, at he voice his face became stone once more. He looked at her, then back at the main screen.

"Moma, please direct your processing to the MLA's" he said knowing she understood he was poking fun at her. She smirked

"Right away dear." soon the ship was buzzing with the fire of all of its turrets, stitching the sky with brilliant metal slugs.

The things could be killed...good. But the covenant were still out there, and that meant trouble.

(woot first, tiny :/, space post.)

[Cabel]

[14th Tactical Response Fleet: Right Flank of the Fleet: Asteroid Field: UNSCS Passchendaele: Bridge]

"This is the UNSC Arizona to all UNSC Forces that can hear this. We are.... Are inside a planet. I commanding officers from the ground on my ship, and any officer still on board in the Situation room in thirty minutes. UNSC Arizona out,” blared over the bridge speakers.

“Inside the planet?” the Lieutenant at the Operation’s station began.

“That’s enough. We can’t do anything about the Arizona or the Titan’s predicament at the moment….” Matvey began, having interrupted the Lieutenant.

“Long range tactical scanners are detecting several hundred small signatures of unknown classification coming…from the planet,” Commander Alice Qelar reported from the primary weapon’s console.

“Several hundred? Are you certain they aren’t Covenant?” Matvey asked.

“Aye, Sir. There isn’t anything in the database matching the silhouette, and those…things aren’t behaving according to known Covenant attack patterns,” Alice explained, doubling checking her console.

“The Commander is correct, Captain. The craft coming from the planet are not Covenant in origin…” Nadezhda began.

“If they aren‘t Covenant, who are they?” Lieutenant Ellis Michaels asked, from his station at Helm.

“That is a good question, Lieutenant Michaels,” Nadezhda replied, before glancing over to the side. “Captain, the Covenant seem to be as occupied with the new arrivals as we are. I am receiving reports of multiple UNSCS vessels with at least the Party Hard engaging the…Sentinels, as they’ll be filed under. The rest of the Fleet is awaiting orders,”

“Like good little soldiers,” Matvey muttered. There were times to follow orders and times to follow instinct, both of which were capable of forming great leaders. The problem though, rested in the type of leader an officer became and Matvey knew the first type that followed orders to the letter too well. “Open a channel to the Andromeda, Laekenois and Thresher. Order them to remain in the asteroid field, and cover that flank. If they must fallback from the threat of being overrun, they have orders to jump into slipspace on a random outbound trajectory. I will not have ships destroyed if they can be saved to fight another day,”

“Aye, Sir,” Lieutenant Louise Denrae reported from her station, transmitting the orders to the rest of the adhoc Battlegroup Passchendaele.

“Open an encrypted channel to Commander Lansorson aboard Quoth the Raven,” Matvey ordered, crossing the bridge from Nadezhda’s holopedestal to the operation’s station.

“Aye, Sir. You should have a direct link to Quoth the Raven on an encrypted channel shortly,” Louise replied.

“Tactical, key the ARCHER pods. We may need them, and Nadezhda prepare the MLA turrets. Keep me abreast of the recharge status of both main cannons,” Matvey said. “Send an encrypted transmission to the Kilimanjaro. We're going to have to work out a strategy if we're going to retrieve the Arizona, the Titan, the men and women within the planet. I'd rather have the Fleet Admiral's full attention,”

[kartoffelfogel]

Fleet of Injurious Might
Flagship CNV Triumph and Condemnation

"The warriors of the gods! The guardians of their sepulchres!"

The cry of dismay rang throughout the bridge of the Triumph and Condemnation. The reaction was as expected--in some, fear--in others, eagerness--and in all, awe. The Sentinels...these were the most fabled of the Covenant's enemies, and the most renowned of their gods' relics. They were the Guardians of The Sacred Rings, the Defenders of The Holy Worlds--they were--and are--the Sentinels.

Yet to Fleetmaster Geidr Svor 'Vrotalai, sentinels were all they were. Not holy guardians, not sanctified templar. They were but mere automatons to him--and he had dealt with guard beasts before.

"'Zakharai." He intoned, calling his High Shipmaster to his side. "What is the situation?"

"As we have just slipped in, the Humans have not yet reacted to our presence, but that is likely to change. They seem preoccupied with the planet Artifice itself, and with the Sentinels that are launching from it. They are unintentionally providing us with a buffer zone through which the Sentinels, who are undoubtedly the greater danger here, cannot reach us."

The Fleetmaster nodded, and then turned to his Viziers. They were all distinguished warriors, and they were all Zealots whose sole duty was to advise him. They were gathered around a holo-tank, which currently displayed much the same scenario 'Zakharai had just elaborated on.

Automatically, Zealot Arir ‘Sendarai spoke. "As always, I counsel action. We have an advantage here--we are currently the strongest force here in orbit. Our enemies are tied up with each other. This is an unprecedented tactical advantage."

Zealot Kisvo ‘Kirvoree raised his voice. "I too counsel action. The Humans are exposed, and will be trapped between two sides. We will crush them as a ship is crushed between the ocean and the shore."

Zealot Q’Kor ‘Yanadee uttered his advice in sonorous tones. "It is obvious enough. Strike now, strike fast, strike well."

'Vrotalai nodded. "The decision is unanimous, then. We strike."

Turning toward the rest of his bridge, he bellowed his orders.

"Have Third Warband flank the Humans in near planetside, and have Second Warband go farther and faster. Have them aimed so that they are equally able to strike at both the Humans, and, if need be, the Sentinels."

All of First Warband are to accompany us in the direct assault."

[Cabel]

[14th Tactical Response Fleet: Right Flank of the Fleet: Asteroid Field: UNSCS Passchendaele: Bridge]


“Multiple Covenant contacts. Fifteen contacts exited from an in-system slipstream jump on the far side of the planet. I’m reading one CAS-Class Assault Carrier, one CRV-Class Supercruiser, two CCS-Class Battlecruisers, two CPV-Class Heavy Destroyers, two CAR-Class Frigates, seven SDV-Class Heavy Corvettes. The Fleet is breaking into three groups, with two headed on an intercept course for the ships closest to the planet while the remaining group with the Assault Carrier at point is headed on an intercept course for our current location. I would recommend raising the ship’s readiness, Captain, and will alert the rest of the Fleet if they haven’t taken notice yet,” Nadezhda reported, her eyes focused through the Passchendaele’s bulkheads using the long range scanners to view the other side of the planet. Using only one of many subroutines, the Second Generation “Smart” A.I. relayed the information and her recommendation to the rest of the UNSC Fleet hoping in some small way her own actions would level the playing field or so the human phrase had it.

“Very well. Set to TAC CON Alpha Two and prepare for ship-to-ship combat. Sound General Quarters, all hands to battle stations. Bring weapons online, and bring the second reactor up to ninety percent to recharge the main cannons,” Matvey ordered, knowing when and if the Fleet Admiral and Commander Lansorson answered his transmission he’d have to fill them in or at least discuss a strategy during the engagement.

“The primary and secondary cannons are at eighty-six percent charge and rising. ARCHER pods are primed and waiting,” Commander Alice Qelar reported from the primary weapon’s station, as two other weapon’s officers took their stations next to her.

“Good. Keep us parked in the asteroid field, but I want the reactors ready for full thrust when the word comes or when we need to move,” Matvey said, hoping their preparations would pay off though he knew regardless of how that they had to win or at least survive. He knew Nadezhda had control over the 50mm Point-Defense Guns, and reacted quicker to incoming fighters or other projectiles than a human gunner might.

(OOC: I mainly guessed at the numbers of the Corvettes, to fill in the rest of the Fleet of Injurious Might. If the numbers are off or the ship types are off, let me know. I'll make the appropriate changes)

[kuran]

Phma 'Refumai
CNV Shadow of Faith
Command Deck

"Shipmaster, I have received reports over the last several cycles of Heretics on the planet below." The sangheili, Rtas 'Moramee, leaned in so that the two of them could talk privatley without the others hearing.

Phma 'Refumai looked up at the Corvette's Master of Communication with unchecked alarm. "Here?" He whispered ferociously."How many? Where are they?"

Rtas shook his head apologetically. "We don't know Shipmaster. At this time, only vauge reports are coming in from forces on the ground." He seemed genuinely sorry for his lack of information, and Phma took note of it. He was a good man, Rtas.

Dismissing his officer with a wave of his hand, Phma cast his gaze forward, to the many status and tactical displays available to him. His eyes showed that he was watching them intently. In reality, he saw nothing as he pondered the news.

The reports of the Heretics were true then. They had broken off from the Covenant, no longer following the will of the Prophets. But what to do? No doubt Phma would eventually be ordered into battle against the Heretics, and then what? Could he truly bring himself to go to war against those who possessed the will to do what he had not?

He had long considered the so-called wisdom of the Prophets. Their refusal to open diplomacy with the Humans, and their insistence that they were mere vermin, despite the contrary fact that Phma had witnessed with his own eyes. But what to do? Was there anything he could do?

He clicked his lower mandibles in annoyance. His Sub-masters on the bridge would likley follow him, he thought. Most of them had shared his thoughts in the privacy of their quarters. But he could not be sure of the rest of the crew. The Sangheili would be torn between two paths, stay and remain faithful, or become heretical. The Unggoy would doubtless follow the majority of the Sangheili. Despite Phma's acceptance of them, they still knew their place as inferiors in rank, and they would adhere to that. The Kig-yar doubtlessly posed the largest problem. They were paid by the Prophets directly, and would not stand to go unrewarded.

He was getting ahead of himself, he realised. What could he do? They were in the middle of the Fleet's First Warband. It wasn't as if they could simply disappear.

"Shipmaster!" The call broke him out of his revere. It had come from the desk below his seat, at the Communications station. It was Rtas. "The Triumph and Condemnation send word, we are to engage the humans directly!"

Phma cursed under his breath. He had no time to think about the right choice. The time was now, he had to pick...

"Signal the Triumph and Condemnation. We are experiencing difficulties with our propulsion and are unable to engage at this time. Master of the Helm," He turned to Fal 'Konaree, the Helmsman. "Reduce our engine power to one-third standard. Anyone who objects to my orders, make it known now!" The last part he aimed at everyone on the deck.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, all he got in return were silent nods of affirmation. They hadn't made their choice yet.

They had simply bought more time.

[kartoffelfogel]

Fleet of Injurious Might
Flagship CNV Triumph and Condemnation

The message from the Shadow of Faith was relayed through the Covenant's battlenet, at lightspeed, to High Shipmaster Uredan 'Zakharai, second-in-command to Fleetmaster Geidr Svor 'Vrotalai.

Acknowledging the news, he turned slightly toward his superior.

"One of our ships is experiencing engine difficulties. It's the Shadow of Faith, Fleetmaster. A keystone part of our primary warband."

The Fleetmaster grunted, automatically understanding the implications set by his subordinate.

"You plan to send over our best engineers to deal with the problem quickly."

"We have the best in the Fleet, sire. Our engineers are sure to do better than theirs."

"Aye. Very well. Do as you see fit."

'Zakharai bowed his head slightly, and then raised his wrist comm to meet it. He began to relay orders along the local battlenet to the Hall of Engineering.

He raised his head again, and opened up a ship-to-ship comm channel.

"We understand your predicament. We are sending the best Huragok in the Fleet, Silently Gliding, along with an entire team and our Master of Engineering, Murr 'Rafioree. They will fix the problem as quickly as possible."

He paused for a moment, and then added.

"It is strange that you should suffer engine difficulties. I assure you, we will lodge an inquiry with whatever shipyard was supposed to give you repairs. Rest assured, we will not have the Fleet of Injurious Might suffer from technical difficulties. We care for our own."





OOC: Prepare to receive dropship, Kuran. You aren't escaping that easily.

If you really want to go Heretic, convince my Master of Engineering toward your perspective.

[Cabel]

[14th Tactical Response Fleet: Right Flank of the Fleet: Asteroid Field: UNSCS Passchendaele: Bridge]

Tracer fire erupted from the fifty-millimeter defense turrets, the double barreled casement drum-fed railguns doubling as both point-defense to anti-ship batteries filled the space between the Passchendaele and the metallic Sentinels. Solid slug, flak shells, and thousands of ARCHER missiles intercepted many of the metallic craft born from the obviously now artificial planet below them, but while many had been destroyed there were others that suffered only glancing blows. The notion for every Sentinel that had been destroyed another took its place hadn’t been lost on the Passchendaele’s Captain, or the realization small screening craft to even the larger capital ships weren’t immune to the beam weaponry the Sentinels carried had reinforced his decision not to launch the Longsword squadron, the remaining Pelican Dropships or Albatross Landers that had remained aboard. The smaller craft would have only flooded the scanners with contacts, and wouldn't have lasted against the Sentinels as long as the larger ships.

Transmissions from various UNSC capital vessels ranging from screening craft to the large cruisers filtered over bridge speakers, lending a living perspective to the quickly escalating engagement and had been another reminder victory no matter how seemingly secure was never simple. The two facts surrounding the arrival of the Sentinels had been launched or activated the moment the Ares had jumped out of the system and that the planet had drawn four ships inside it had proven to Matvey there were more mysteries to the galaxy, preceding the ambitions of the human race. His place wasn’t to ponder the mysteries, the untold and unexplored chapters of galactic drama, but to carry out his orders. When it came to engagements, he’d learned to survive rather than to win and in the process victory was a result. He’d known officers that focused solely on victory, only for those officers to become trapped in the molten remains of battleplates and hull struts.

“Lieutenant Denrae, get a transmission through to the Arizona and any UNSC garrisons within the planet. Inform them of a Covenant strike group making a run for the planet, with the potential intent of dropping ground forces. Double encrypt it and transmit,” Matvey ordered, standing near his chair in the recessed command pit. While the Covenant Fleet of fifteen ships that had arrived from an inner-system jump remained in his thoughts, Matvey couldn‘t dismiss the Sentinel threat. The ranks of the metallic drones had swelled from the hundreds to the thousands while the Covenant lay the larger threat, neither Fleet as far as he knew could make a run for the planet. “Tactical…Commander Qelar, work with Nadezhda to tighten our fields of fire. Coordinate with the Laekenois, Andromeda and Thresher to combine our attacks,”

[kuran]

Phma 'Refumai
CNV Shadow of Faith
Command Deck

Phma sighed heavily. This was certainly not a helpful development. Raising his own wrist comm, he replied as politely as he could. "Indeed it is, Fleetmaster. We will prepare for the arrival of your engineers, you have my thanks."

Making sure the comm was turned off, Phma raised his voice, making sure that everyone in the command centre would be able to hear him.

"My Brothers! We must make a choice, standing for what we believe in. The Prophets lie to us. We were led to believe that our enemies are vermin, that they were worthy only of death, that they have no honour. We have fought our enemy long enough to know that this is all untrue. The Prophets preach genocide, and utilise the Sangheili as their brutal instruments. No more!"

He watched carefully as he spoke, wary for signs of disagreement among his senior officers. But his intuition was sound. He had been a part of the crew long enough to know that the majority of his crew shared similar thoughts to his own. But there was one element of his crew that would have to be dealt with...

"There are Heretics, brothers of courage, on the surface of the planet. I say we assist them, we gather forces, and we take what is ours...our freedom from the Prophets!"

There was a silence that greeted his words, and then roars of approval. From every living being on the bridge, cheers and roars. Phma's lower mandibles came together in a parody of a human smile.

"Now then, let us deal with the fools that are coming for us. Master of Engineering, begin fluctuating the engine output, make it appear as if we are suffering a severe malfunction. Rtas," He addressed the Master of Communications. "Hail the Incoming engineering team,inform them that it would be dangerous for them to board at this time."

[kartoffelfogel]

Ultra Murr 'Rafioree
Phantom Dropship en route to CNV Shadow of Faith

A few chimes rang throughout the Phantom.

Ultra Murr 'Rafioree had had much experience with Huragok. He had, in particular, much experience with Silently Gliding.

However, he'd never been one for engineering.

In fact, the only reason he was Master of Engineering was because he had a very good ear for languages--he understood both Yanme'e and Huragok speech, and could mimic both using a voice synthesizer, a tool which became like an extension of his own body with much use.

And yet despite his ear for language itself, he often had trouble with communication with other Sangheili. He'd lived his life a bit of a recluse, preferring to spend more time with Yanme'e and Huragok then with his fellow Sangheili.

He had, in tandem, acquired some of their more eccentric behavorial patterns. For example, neither Huragok or Yanme'e tolerated an unsolved problem, or a problem not solved correctly. If they saw a problem, they solved it.

Danger didn't come into the equation.

He answered the Master of Communications swiftly, albeit with an odd cadence to his voice--an "accent" he derived from his mechanically adept friends.


"Have no fear. This Phantom comes with the best trained and best equipped swarm of Yanme'e in the Fleet, alongside possibly the best Huragok engineer ever to serve in the Fleet at any time. We know no danger, and no trepidation. We'll fix your engines easily enough."

Another side affect of his time with Huragok and Yanme'e--he considered accomplishments in the field of Engineering--(despite his never having accomplished much at all)--to be just as honorable and accomplishments on the field of battle.

"Be it plasma leaks or slip warps, we'll fix your engines expeditiously enough. In fact, to make this quicker, would you mind opening your stern docking port for us? Using the conduit at the conflux opening would make this easier..."

[kuran]

Phma 'Refumai
CNV Shadow of Faith
Command Deck

Phma shook his head slowly. This was not going as smoothly as it should. But this was still a combat-ready ship, and the ship transporting the engineers could be destroyed easily. But that would be unwise, Phma considered. The rest of the fleet would immediately catch on, and they were sitting right in the middle. Such a course of action would doubtless result in their immediate deaths. Not wise then, given that there were other options available to them.

"Master of Defence, come with me." Phma stood up once more, turning and heading for the rear entrance to the Command Deck. He moved quickly, and the ship's Master of defence, Sang 'Vadumee, hurried to catch up to him. As the doors parted and they stepped out into the long corridor beyond, two of the guards stationed at the entrance, both Sangheili Minors, turned to follow them. The four quickly made their way down the corridor, Phma in the lead and rattling off orders to his Master of Defence.

"Gather the Kig-Yar in one of the outer rooms...Storage compartment four will work. Alert me when they are all gathered there. And assemble a team of Sangheili and a pair of Mgalekgolo, have them report to the stern docking port."

Sang nodded and turned off to another corridor, dropping out of Phma's sight. He continued along the corridor, heading for the stern docking bay.

-------

The bay was fairly standard by Covenant standards. It held approximatley half of the ship's contingent of fighters and dropships, most of which were in roof racks or stored to one side of the bay currently, leaving a relatively large, open space in the middle.

It was in this space that Phma stood, backed by Sang, a quartet of Sangheili minors, and a pair of Mgalekgolo, their armored bulks dominating the Lance. As they waited for the arrival of the ship carrying the engineers, the group fanned out, not obviously threatening, looking like a simple honour guard ready to escort a guest.

And they waited.

[kartoffelfogel]

Master of Engineering, Ultra Murr 'Rafioree
Phantom en route to CNV Shadow of Faith

The door to the stern docking port opened. The Gravity Channel activated.

Suddenly, the gravity in the Phantom switched--the ship was now down, and the Phantom up.

Ultra Murr 'Rafioree watched as his good Huragok friend, Silently Gliding, gave a few chimes.

Assent, travel.

Preparation. Suspension of observation.

Query to follow.

Heeding his friend's request, he stepped into the Gravity Channel, "falling" into the ship. He landed on his feet, as the gravity switched again--and he felt a certain relief in the solidity of the ship's deck.

Following him, a long line of Yanme'e mechanics began to flow in. He knew all of them by name, and he was just as fluent in their language as Silently Gliding's.

His eyes quickly identified the Shipmaster. He bowed, one arm behind him, one in front, the picture of elegant and dignified servitude.

He unconsciously greeted the Shipmaster in chime.

Greetings.

Pleasure of sight.

Realizing his mistake, he clicked his mandibles together in embarrassment, and deactivated his voice synthesizer.

"Greetings, Shipmaster 'Refumai. I am the humble Murr 'Rafioree, Master of Engineering. We were commanded by the Fleetmaster (who, by the way, offers his best regards) to assist you in any way we can. Your engines will be attended to by--"

He broke off, about to introduce Silently Gliding, but he noted that the Huragok had already slipped off, caring little about protocol.

"--by my friend, here, no over there, Silently Gliding. Hold on--"

He began to pursue his friend, uttering apologies and chastisements, in both languages. The Yanme'e followed. He began to chime.

Hold!

Inaction of movement.

However, his friend's response was disturbing.

Confusion.

Lack of trouble.

[kuran]

Phma 'Refumai
CNV Shadow of Faith
Stern Docking Bay

Phma watched the silently gliding line of Engineers with a degree of interest. There were several of them aboard the Shadow of Faith, but they tended to keep to themselves and even Phma, who made a point of knowing about his crew, had little knowledge of them.

He did know that they were usually peaceful however. The main threat here was the Sangheili, who identified himself as a Master of Engineering. Phma waved a hand over to the right, and one of his Sangheili guards moved, blocking the path of the one known as Silently Gliding and his comrades.

"Master 'Rafioree, it is an honour to have you aboard our humble vessel. I come with grave news however."

He hesitated for a moment. This would undoubtedly be a tense argument. "Our engines are working at full operation. The truth is, we are attempting to escape the lies the Prophets spread."

"Brother. The Prophets have been lying to us, to all of our brothers. They do not allow us to treat our enemies with honor, as is our way. They use us as instruments of their will and yet keep us hidden from the truth. Brother," He waved his hand again, and the honour guard moved quickly to form a circle around the two of them. "We wish you to see the truth. But we have no desire to see the death of a brother. If you wish to leave, then you will be allowed to return to your ship unharmed."

"But I request that you stay with us for some time, allow me to convince you of our cause."

[Wax™]

Captain Jonathon 'Ricket' Michaels
Task Force 77: UNSCS Ares
In slip-space En;Route to random.

Jonathon walked along deck of one of the hallway's through his ship, his military boots clanked and stomped against the titanium plate metal as he made his way to the SPARTAN Gold Team's field base on the UNSCS Ares, Jonathon walked with two Military Police Marines behind him, each one holding a MA37 and ready to use it, Jonathon stepped infront of the door that lead into the HEV Bay which was customized to act as the Field base for the SPARTAN's, Jonathon looked to the two men and waved them off who began walking back to the bridge.

Jonathon stepped through the doors which opened once he pressed a button and unlocked the doors on a keypad he then closed and locked the door behind him Jonathon stepped into the deck wearing his Naval battle attire and slowed his pace once he saw Silas being tended to by medic's and engineers his heart almost sank, in the four short years Jonathon knew Silas he was like a son and the man had barley aged a day.

"You look after that man you hear me!"

He said pointing at the medics before making his way across the bay to the rest of the SPARTAN's and the asset they recovered, he stopped in-front of the seemingly human looking android and eye'd it up and down, he then smiled and turned his gaze to a holo-tank that was next to him, Athena rose up from the Holo-Tank and matched the same size as the Android so as to seem like a person.

"This piece of technology is most intriguing Captain... I have never seen anything quite like it in all the years we have been studying the so called Forerunner history, this is remarkable"

Jonathon nodded to Athena and looked to the android.

"What is your name and where are you from, please tell me everything you deem necessary to tell me"

After Jonathon said that Athena butted in and asked the Android a question of her own.

"Excuse me... Would you allow me to access your data modules and search or system for information? I am most fascinated by you and very intrigued... Do I have your permission? Of course you could lock any areas you would not like me to view"

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

Executive Officer Tahlee stood there on the bridge with her hands behind her back, she continued to stare at the female SPARTAN known as Lucifer, she had seen SPARTAN's before but she just could not help but wonder why this particular SPARTAN was even on the bridge at all, Tahlee stepped in-front of the SPARTAN and eyed her a moment before speaking.

"Excuse me but why are you on the bridge again?"

[z]

Lucifer-077

Slowly moving along the bridge, her hand tracing over the cool metal of a console but avoiding the buttons as she moved along the large room and watching the men and woman scurry about like ants.

The large armored form walked along, looking over the glowing buttons and officers wondering dotting the room. What an amazing thing this ship was.

"Excuse me but why are you on the bridge again?" A woman asked, catching Lucifer's attention. Looking over to her, Lucifer rolled her head on her shoulders and brushed her hair from her face before speaking, adding a careful salute in.

"I was... Bored, Ma'am. And i was wondering if... There were any reports on my brother..." She said, looking down a bit. "We never met him on the ground and I'm... Whats the word..." She asked herself out loud, brushing her hair back again.

"Worried I guess...?" She said, looking off to the large window into space.

"Are there any reports on his status... Ma'am?" She asked, lowering her head.

[Wax™]

Executive Officer Tahlee Goodwin (NPC)

"I was... Bored, Ma'am. And i was wondering if... There were any reports on my brother... We never met him on the ground and I'm... Whats the word..."

Tahlee lowered her head and turned to follow the SPARTAN's gaze out of the window, she frowned and looked back to Lucifer again, she then sucked in a breath and swallowed which kind of hurt with the sorrow she was about to pronounce, she moved up next to the SPARTAN and stood beside her almost shoulder to shoulder before speaking plainly.

"I am sorry to report SPARTAN-078-Luke had to be offloaded before we hit slip-space, his cryo pod suffered catastrophic failure and was taken to an ONI facility for repair's and maintenance with him still inside it, he is perfectly fine and the cryo pod is basically working but, as of yet they have no way of reviving him from the sleep, I am sorry"

Tahlee frowned before placing a hand on the SPARTAN's shoulder.

[z]

Lucifer-077

After hearing the news, her lip twitched a bit and she gave a small nod before lowering her head. Her eyes closed in thought as she went over the memories with her brother in her head... He always had her back.

It was not going to be easy without him, even if it was for a short time but... He was alive at least... Better than nothing...

"Thank you, Ma'am." She said with the unflinching, emotionless Emotionless Super-Solder facade. A hand went to her shoulder and she wasn't sure how to react. Maybe it was time to get close to her new team.

Biting her lip for a moment she nodded again, least she would not be seeing her brothers ghost walking about.

"Thank you again..."

[kartoffelfogel]

Master of Engineering, Ultra Murr 'Rafioree
On board CNV Shadow of Faith

Murr stood dumbfounded.

"What!?!" He asked. "Lies--what? What lies? What truth--I'm confused--" Suddenly, the full impact of what the Shipmaster had said sank through.

"What!?! You're--Heretics? There are Heretics in the Fleet!?! How--" Another thought finally percolated the cloud of confusion; he was surrounded by Heretics on all sides.

He groped for his Energy Dagger, and succeeded in drawing it--although very slowly, as he was not that competent at close quarters, or indeed at any combat range. Around him, the Yanme'e began to run around in a confusion of wings and legs.

As he was about to join panic, suddenly, a chime registered in his head.

Hold.

Wait.

Silently Gliding laid a tentacle on Murr's shoulder. Sadly befuddled, the Ultra lowered his dagger. The Huragok turned its head toward the Shipmaster.

It began to chime, and its voice synthesizer began to translate--albeit without much accuracy--the Huragok's words toward 'Refumai.

Suspension of judgement.

Willingness to listen.

Acknowledgement of deceit.

Confession of knowledge of San'Shyuum technological treachery.

Instead of listening to the voice synthesizer's words, Murr instead heard the chimes. That last chime--it was confusing--a confession? A confession of knowledge? What was his friend talking about?

[kuran]

Phma 'Refumai
CNV Shadow of Faith
Stern Docking Bay

Phma half expected the Engineer to draw a weapon, and hurried to wave down his guards, who moved to attack the engineer as he drew an energy dagger. Yet oddly enough, it seemed as if the Huragok, Silently Gliding, was the dominant one of the group.

"Brother, you have no doubt seen combat in your time aboard the Fleetmaster's ship. You have seen that the Humans are not mere vermin as the Prophets have told us. They are filled with courage, honor, determination even when facing our overwheling might! You know this to be true."

"The Prophets have betrayed us, are using us as instruments of genocide! They are casting aside our honour as Sangheili by forcing us to murder, kill indiscriminately! We have lost our honour!"

Phma took in a breath. This was the make or break moment. Either the engineer would be too indoctrinated to the Will of the Prophets, or he would choose to see the truth.

"Join us brother, and regain your honour!"

He turned to the Huragok next. "You have no doubt seen the same. Seen what Humans are capable of making. Will you join us? Help to preserve what has been made?"

[SuperCommando]

CPO SPARTAN-009 (Silas)

UNSCS Ares, slipstream space

Med bay

“Silas, be prepared for a full assault”

“How are you doing Son? Good I can only assume”

“Gold One this is Gold Two, we need some serious firepower done here ASAP!”

“SILAS!! Are you daft!!??"

“Demon...”

“Gold one... If you are asking me to risk the entire human race on honor you are mistaken. But... you may also be asking me to save it…”

“If I am correct, these humans are descendants of The Creators…”

“'Ey Silas...? Thank you..."

***

“You look after that man you hear me!”

That… that was the Captain’s voice. What was the Captain doing here…? Where IS here?

SPARTAN-009’s mind was a swirl of blurred images and distorted sensations… stars rapidly passing by outside the viewport of an HEV pod, an Elite in silver armor lunging out at him from a haze of flying sand, a young girl who was not a girl, the seemingly overly-bright lights of an endless metal corridor as his footfalls echoed loudly in his mind, a ruined helmet slipping from his grasp to clatter on the floor and splatter the blood within all over, and most of all… the pain. A searing, all-consuming pain that saturated his every thought. He remembered being badly injured, remembered that final flash of blinding light as it burned into his memory as well as his face. He suppressed it at first, but it had grown stronger and stronger.

Now it was everything.

***

Slurred voices reverberated through his mind with a painful, echoing ringing. The noise… too much noise… And the agony, the discomfort… what was going on?

“doCtor, HEarT bEAT iS rIsiNg. He’S WaKing uP!”

“DaMn it, hE’s fIGhtInG thE aNestHEtiC. HOw mUch DOeS iT taKe tO kEEp tHis gUy doWn?”

Everything felt sore and stiff and tingly. When his eyelid fluttered open, it felt like it weighed a ton. Half his vision was dark, half was light, and everything was as blurry as windshield in a monsoon. The simple action of rolling his head sideways felt like it took days to accomplish.

He saw a stainless steel tray with bloody tools, the wall with a lightbox and xrays, and a computer screen with charts and images and notes. He squinted dizzily at the pictures, trying to make out the shapes.

He saw what he guessed was the left side of a person’s face, a horrible gash ran from a couple inches above the hairline all the way down through the chin. The ugly line of charred flesh sank deep into the face and through the bone of the skull underneath. Everything in the wound’s path had been burned away and vaporized, hair, bone, eye socket, some teeth, a bit of tongue, and a gap in the chin that partially bisected the lower jaw. Silas usually wasn’t squeamish, but when he saw those pictures in all their gruesome detail, he was suddenly overcome by a sickening sensation of dread and revulsion.

That was his face.

The WIA Spartan felt hands all over his face, poking, proding, pulling, cutting, cleaning... They felt like intruders, like enemies trying to hurt him even though he knew they were only trying to help. He wanted to fight them off, he wanted them gone, he wanted to scream and make them go away.

The hands tilted his head upright again. He could make out the shapes of arms and heads in front of a bright light, but everything was distorted and bizarre, like a terrible dream or a hallucination.

“GivE hIM aNotHer DOse.”

***

Darkness. Everything was dark. Everything was quiet. Silas could still hear the voices, but they sounded faint and far away. He didn’t bother trying to open his eye, didn’t bother to stir. He just lay still and let the blissful darkness consume him.

***

“…I know, right? It’s a miracle there was no apparent brain damage.”

“We’ll see. It’s too early to tell. But the prognosis looks okay. Lucky son of a bitch.”

“Lucky, or just damn tough. A normal person suffering this kind of trauma and blood loss shouldn’t even be conscious, let alone get up and continue to fight. He even walked himself here on his own afterwards.”

“Don’t sound so impressed…”

“Huh?”

“You’re right, a normal person couldn’t do that. These SPARTANs, they’re not even human. They do things humans aren’t meant to do. It’s … unnatural. It’s wrong. Very wrong.”

“Wrong? These guys are super soldiers, that’s the whole point. They’re heroes!”

“They’re freaks. Science experiments with no names. They scare me, they really do.”

“They’re on our side, remember?”

“That’s what makes it so disturbing.”

***

Silas sat up in his bed in the medical bay. With the left side of his head wrapped up like a mummy and his right arm in a sling, there really wasn’t much to do but stare down at the data tablet in his lap and try to catch up on current events and reflect on the previous mission. He got word that Luke, the Spartan meant to take the number five spot on Gold team, was stuck in an icy coma due to catastrophic failure of his cryo pod. Jethro, Gold Three, was listed as WIA just like Silas was, he hoped he was okay. No news yet on what was to become of the alien android they picked up from Artiface, nor of what was happening with the rest of the Task Force after the Ares jumped to slipspace.

As he pondered what was going to happen next, Silas sighed and leaned back into his pillow.

[kartoffelfogel]

Master of Engineering, Ultra Murr 'Rafioree
On board CNV Shadow of Faith

Murr barely registered the Trierarch's words.

"Wait...what do you mean the Prophets have betrayed us? What has possessed you to say such a thing?"

Almost as soon as the words left his mandibles, Silently Gliding's mechanized voice joined in.

Of more importance is the time of occurrence.

Unconsciously, Murr translated for his friends. "He asks why you have acted now. What has convinced you of our Prophet's treachery? And what proof do you have?"

For his own part, Silently Gliding still held doubts. He had his own reasons for distrusting the Prophets--but what proof, what information did this 'Refumai have?

[kuran]

Phma 'Refumai
CNV Shadow of Faith
Command Deck[/u]

Phma shrugged. It wasn't as if they could escape with the information.

"It has been a choice that was a long time in the making. But the choice was hastened when we recived reports of Heretical elements on the surface of the world below. As for proof..."

His lower mandibles clicked together in mild annoyance. "You have surely seen the evidence as clear as we have. Those we were led to treat as vermin are capable of courage and honour similar to our own. We have been used as petty exterminators by the Prophets, they have taken our honour without care or heed."

[Spartan 999]

Petty Officer Jethro-097

[/center]

Jethro's fist moved in slow motion, coming up in a right hook. He grimaced as he felt the wave of pain wash over his chest. He looked down, studying the bandaged wound: the particle beam had punctured a hole directly through his chest about an inch under his collarbone on the right side. It had pierced his lung, but the medics had managed to patch him up before tissue necrosis or massive fluid build-up could occur.

As for his left leg...the medics told him he was extremely lucky they didn't have to amputate the lower part of his limb, although it would probably take a few months--at the least--to heal. He rose to his feet, hardly listening to the slight moan of bed springs, then started to gingerly limp away from the cot.

Jethro directed his feet, or rather, foot-with-hands-holding-on-to-any-support-he-could-find-while-his-left-foot-hung-limp, towards Silas' bed. He stopped as he approached within two and-a-half meters, mostly because there was a small table he could use for support, but also to give GOLD's leader some respect and space.

"So, how's out fearless leader doing?" Jethro asked, eyes studying the other Spartan's half-bandaged head.

[SuperCommando]

CPO SPARTAN-009 (Silas)

UNSCS Ares, slipstream space

Med bay

“So, how’s our fearless leader doing?”

Silas was pleasantly surprised by the sudden voice that broke the stillness of the quiet med bay. He turned his head to find his fellow SPARTAN had approached from his blind spot. Silas tried to smile, but a combination of numbness and discomfort prevented the action. When he spoke his greeting, it came out sounding forced and strained, with pained grunts in between every few syllables. “Jethro! I’m…”

Then he noticed the man’s wounds. “Jethro… what are you doing on your feet?”

Seeing his Spartan brother’s injuries washed away the self-pity from his mind and reawakened a bit of the fire within. So he had a missing eye and a sprained arm, so what? Here Jethro could barely stand, yet he still had the compassion to get up and visit. Silas leaned up in bed, scanning the room. There was no medical staff in sight, so he slipped out from under the sheets and placed his bare feet on the cold floor. He eased himself up carefully and wobbled over to Jethro.

“I’ve gotcha,” he said. Even though his words were even quieter than usual, they still carried that same old reassuring tone. Silas stuck his head under Jethro’s arm to allow his comrade to use him as a crutch, and then helped walk Jethro back to his own bed.

“I admit…” Silas grunted, answering Jethro’s original question as they shuffled along. “I’m not too good right now. Hurts to talk. I guess they must have brought me in here after surgery, just woke up a little while ago. Didn’t know anyone else was awake. I didn’t know you were here too.”

When they reached Jethro’s bedside, Silas eased him down and then pulled up a chair. He sat on Jethro’s left, that way he only exposed the intact, unbandaged right side of his head.

Releasing a deep sigh, Silas gazed absently at the ceiling.

“What about you? I heard you were WIA, but no details. Looks pretty bad…”

[Spartan 999]

Petty Officer Jethro-097

[/center]

"Meh." Jethro said, flexing his right hand absentmindedly. "Probably as bad as it looks. As for details, well...apparently two Covenant snipers shot me with beam rifles. If the second one had hit first, I would be dead. As it was, the first one made me pitch forward just far and down enough to where the second shot wouldn't immediately be fatal."

Jethro looked over at Silas, his crimson mechanical eye's pupil adjusting. "Heh, just had a thought: mechanical eye buddies." He said, moving his left hand through the air from left to right, pausing after every word as he spoke the last three. "Completely your choice, of course, to get a cloned or a mechanical one. But if you did pick to get a mechanical one, then we'd have to think up a version of 'Hey Hey, We're the Monkees' that has mechanical eye lyrics..."

[kartoffelfogel]

Master of Engineering, Ultra Murr 'Rafioree
On board CNV Shadow of Faith

Ambivalence.

Failure to impress.

'Rafioree knew well the minds of Huragok. They were less impressed by philosophical concepts such as honor and betrayal, preferring their mechanical values of reason and logic.

But 'Refumai's words had struck a chord inside Murr.


"From what I've seen of Human ships..." he said tentatively. "They are...a primitive species. Their designs show ingenuity, and creativity abounding, but little artistry or refinement. They have dozens of languages...most contextual and arbitrary."

"From what I've seen...they are primitive. That is it. Honorable, probably. Heroic, likely. But they are primitive. I'm more inclined to...pity them then to respect them. And I think...you are right. It is wrong to kill them."

Silently Gliding heard these words, and did not seem impressed. He, too, spoke then.

Humanity. Little concern.

San'Shyuum. Much concern.

Facts about Humanity; possible, unproven.

Facts about San'Shyuum treachery; certain, proven.

Silently Gliding, joining forces with you. Different rationale, same conclusion.

[hollowsaber]

Corporal Jake Furrow UNSCS Ares, Slip-space Places...

The ride took only a second, as Furrow decided to rest his eyes in his seat. He only was woken up by the slamming down of the pelican bay-door. The trooper opened his eyes and looked around quickly to find out where he was. The internal bay was instantly recognized by his eyes; the Ares. Safety at last... Furrow sighed as he hopped to his feet. The metal below him crunched lightly and clapped against the soles of his boots, then became solid as he moved out of the pelican and into the ship itself.

Around him, the crews moved to help the SPARTANs, and one in particular; Silas. Furrow stood silent as he watched the severely wounded soldier get helped from the bay, then off into the ship. Half of his face was missing... What happened on top of that spire? The question flowed constantly as he tried to put it together. Jake had looked through his scope to see the fight, but he had fallen asleep almost a few seconds after. Next thing he knew, the sandstorm was swallowing him whole.

Furrow would seek Silas out another time, but for now he had something else to deal with... The trooper slid his rifle across his back by its strap and turned his back to the pelicans and SPARTANs. As much of the crew came in one door, Jake went out the other door on the other side of the hangar...

* * * * * * *

MIL-AI-0665-BIFRONS UNSCS Ares, Slip-space Core of the ship.

Silent, as per usual during these situations, Bifrons simply watched out of the cameras that were positioned all around the ship. He dispatched several crew members to the aid of the SPARTANs, and notified ONI on completion of the objective. The Android was in tow, and now they were jumping out of system. A good choice of action, but that didn’t mean they were safe yet. That machine needed to be secured on the ground and into a base. A ship could only protect it for so long... Though, a base didn’t really have a better shot. Maybe it just seemed like having the Android on the ground would be safe...

Illusions were all they were. The Covenant would be back for the Android. That was a fact. But next time, hopefully that massive Elite wouldn’t be there. Bifrons stared down at Silas as he was operated on, and continued to monitor the soldier. Bifrons pulled up some of the machines onto his internal server, and had them up so he could register the incoming data. If there were any fluctuations in his life signs, or any problems at all, Bifrons would alert the staff.

Yet, to save himself some time, Bifrons had an idea. He quickly pulled up a blank program, and created an automated alert that would alert the staff for him. A short connection between the medical systems and the program was immediately brought up. Acknowledging the connection, all of the data flowed into the program, and quickly updated it with a base-line to run off of. Silas’s heartbeat was recorded, along with his blood-pressure, temperature, and other basic bodily signs. Then, Bifrons pulled up a full skeleton of the SPARTAN which would monitor his muscular structure, and his bones. Within only a minute or two, Bifrons had an entire partition of himself watching over everything he possibly could to make sure Silas was taken care of. That bastard had survived hell, and was still alive and kicking. He deserved it.

Setting Silas aside for a bit, Bifrons pulled up a view-port to see into the hangar. The pelicans were being offloaded, and the other SPARTANs were going to do what they do. But they weren’t why he was looking. The ODST that he forced down with the SPARTANs was missing. How? Where did he go...? Bifrons growled low in his core, as he switched from camera to camera all around the hangar... but no luck. Bifrons pulled up multiple screens before him and connected into cameras all across the vessel as he searched for the Trooper.

ONI would have questions for him... And maybe some of the SPARTANs as well...

[C3]

C3135-T14
Location: Slipspace
Status: Functioning, system analysis underway.

As her system continued to analyze its damage, C3135-T14 shifted idly, gazing over the ships various occupants. She was still very confused as to what was happening around her. This war... these humans.... the Sangheili is silver.... she was not pleased with this new reality. Just how long had she been dormant?

Her troubled thoughts were interrupted as a human stepped before her, seeming to do a fair amount of analysis himself. Beside her a smaller being emerged as a form of hologram. She stared at it with curiosity.

"This piece of technology is most intriguing Captain..." the hologram spoke. "I have never seen anything quite like it in all the years we have been studying the so called Forerunner history, this is remarkable."

The word again. Forerunner. C3 remained silent.

"What is your name and where are you from, please tell me everything you deem necessary to tell me," the human spoke now, taking C3's attention to himself.

The hologram spoke again before C3 had any chance to answer. "Excuse me... Would you allow me to access your data modules and search or system for information? I am most fascinated by you and very intrigued... Do I have your permission? Of course you could lock any areas you would not like me to view"

C3 ran a palm through her artificial hair, a form of idle fidget while she processed her surroundings.

"It seems that everyone around here is very lustful for knowledge," she spoke at last. "To me, it show that you are desperate. This war has been going on for some time I presume." She shook her head and leaned back closing her eyes. "I am Model C3135, section T14; frequently referred to as C3 by those I would work closely with. It appears that my memory banks have been damaged, however. I cannot remember the name of the place I come from."

C3 reopened her eyes and looked at the hologram for a moment, then the human. "You wish to access the information that I hold. Why is that; when there is a large possibly that anything that I may hold will likely be outdated and of little use to you?"

[z]

Rakath V'keelaii

Shaking as the Phantom entered space, ever so slowly the crew inside felt them become weightless, Kallmee then activated the magnets which sealed their feet to the floor.

"This is going to be fairly bump-" Kalmee was cut off with a loud "BOOM", and the shaking of the Phantom. And on the console, a red flashing light.

"Something hit our left thruster!" Kallmee called out.

"Land us somewhere!" Renmee yelled.

"I'm trying, I'm going to aim to land in the hanger of the nearest ship. If needed form there we can seize transport!" He declared.

----

Rakath V'keelaii
Location: CNV Shadow of Faith
Status: Stable

The sickening sound of grinding metal... That throw forward as the Phantom skidded across the floor. And then, lastly that final lurch that slammed Rakaths head back to the wall.

...

Groaning Rakath opened his eyes and looked up to see himself on the left wall of the crooked Phantom.

Everything as blurry, but he could make out a few shapes opening the door before he dropped his head back and drifted back into the blackness.

[kuran]

Phma 'Refumai
CNV Shadow of Faith
Stable

Phma was about to speak to the Master of Engineering when an alarmed shriek from one of the Mageloko made him turn.

A crippled, battered Phantom was streaking straight for the opening to the bay they were in. Phma reacted more on instinct. "COVER!"

Diving right, he took cover behind an equipment crate, and his escort did the same. With an ear-splitting screech and a ground-shaking lurch, the Phantom hit the deck, skidding for a long moment before finally coming to a stop no more than a foot from where Phma had been moments before.

"Open the hatches, there might be survivors!"

His guards hurried to comply, as Phma clicked on his wrist comm, speaking to the Command Center.

"This is the Shipmaster. Spin up the Slipspace drive, and divert all weapons power to shields. We will likely attract a good bit of fire as we make our escape."

There was a moment of confusion on the other end. "Where do we go Shipmaster?"

Phma muttered grimly,"Anywhere but here."

Deactivating the comm, he turned back to the wreckage of the Phantom just as one of the guards called down. "There are survivors Shipmaster!"

Phma nodded. "Take them to the medical bay, put them under guard. Notify me when they regain consciousness."

Turning, he made his way for the door, back to the Command Center.