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The interior lighting had dimmed on the central deck of the ship. Alien insect life chimed in the night light and luminescent bugs and plants had sprung to life. Heller rested in a grassy reed patch. T'soona's body pressed comfortingly against his back as her arms snaked around to hold him.

"Heller. Tell me a story of your youth.”

He looked back through dim old memories. "Not much to tell. Ma and Pa were decent folk. Lived the farmboy life up until I was ninteen. I joined the corps after a bombing at a major city on my homeworld. Few years of that, then... Harvest happened. Rest is history."

T'soona ran fingers through his hair, caressing his chest. "There must be more than you claim. What made you who you are?"

He blinked. "Deep questions before sleep. Always a treat. What about you? Can't really picture teddy bears and crayons on a fridge. How'd you get here?"

A long pause filled the gap as she thought about it. "My Keep and Clan moved from our world to Sanghelios when I was a child. An agreement. Our territory in exchange for protection from another Clan."

Heller frowned. "That sounds like a great start.”

"You jest Heller. It was for me. My Clan had called that world home generations before the Covenant formed. All I knew as a child was the cold, the snow and ice. Sanghelios was....huge. Ancient and so...beautiful, so warm. She is my real home."

Heller chuckled. "Explains a theory of mine. So what happened?"

"All children from my Keep were inducted into seven years of martial training. I distinguished myself from the other females, and was allowed to proceed further into training as an Exemplar initiate."

T'soona paused. Heller was familiar with that tone shift in her voice. "What?"

"I succeeded, Heller."

"Hey, I still remember the day I got accepted as a Helljumper. I was so stoked that the week's shoreleave was nothing but drinking and a lot pent up sex. Happy times. You don't sound happy about succeeding."

T'soona sighed. "The best are hand picked to become Exemplars. Only one per group can ever claim the mantle Heller, as it is a beacon to all the Covenant, of faith, conviction, and skill. The mantle is one that is born of bloodshed."

Heller swallowed a quickly growing lump in his throat. "They made you fight didn't they?"

The pause prompted Heller to shift himself, turning over to face her. Tense mandibles, her eye looked far ahead before meeting Heller's gaze in a mournful resignation.

"Of fourteen, I bested them in combat to the death. My Sisters were as prepared and devoted as I was. I do not mourn them, yet I find that I still remember them. I remember the last one I killed the most."

He watched her, thinking for a moment. "I had a friend, back when I started training in the corps. We went through it all. She was the baddest of the bad. Top marks in Helljumper prep. We went on a drop, surprise debris screwed her trajectory down. Worst angle for descent, she burned up."

Heller's hand found T'soona's mandibles, fingers tracing the scarred hide gently. "Part of the training is knowing that one day your ticket is up. But she didn't get to go fighting. It was just...shit luck. It's not what you lived, but I get it. I think about her too sometimes. She was like you."

T'soona's mandibles tensed. Both eyes moved and locked to his. "Truly, Heller? As of late I find myself....lost."

"So tell me what's up. If we're not going to sleep, I should take a look at the stitches on your wounds. Time to take them out. Work and talk."

T'soona pushed herself upright. "As you would have it Heller. I've been thinking about the task given to me."

Supplies slipped from Heller's rucksack nearby as he went to work assessing things, starting along her back. "What about it?"

"Something does not make sense to me. Why would the Minister send me to retrieve sensitive data, and then investigate what was happening on the Holy Ring? If I were to activate the Ring, no longer would we need to worry about the physical world."

Heller chuckled as he cut thread and carefully pulled remnants out. "Well ain't you a smart one. I think you're the only one that can answer that, because I don't know shit about salvation."

T'soona winced lightly before relaxing as more threads came undone and slid through thickened scar tissue. "Yes, but what do you make of it, Heller?"

"Okay. What, two months ago your people discovered the first Ring. Sierra 117 destroyed it. I don't know how, or why. I don't even know how he got there. He had a reason for it, I know that. I think we should try to find out why before we do anything hasty."

"And the Minister's data?"

"You're set on doing this. I'm coming with you. We get the data, and we find out what's so damn special about it that has that old alien pissing his robes. Maybe we get some more answers about what's happening to the Covenant along the way."

"Heller. None of your species has ever set foot in the Holy City, or witnessed it. It is the heart of our empire. I...."

"It's probably a suicide mission for me, I know."

"I want you to stay on board this ship. I can do this alone."

To her front as he worked, looking into her glassy dull eye and the scarred side of her face. "Probably. But we won't know what the situation is until we get there. You said we're a day out. Why don't we train on maneuvers again?"

"I believe we are as sufficient at them as we can be, Heller. I believe I know what you're trying to tell me."

"Hold up. Want a story about my childhood?"

T'soona flinched as thread was cut away along the side of her stomach. "Yes, Heller."

"Ma and Pa owned a big stretch of farmland right on the edge of some military zone. Wasn't allowed in there, but I remember the big damn satellite relays up in the hills, just sitting there day in day out, scanning."

Heller chuckled. "There was always a vapor trail in the sky somewhere, some jet on patrol. I remember buzzing bugs in the summer, laying in the fields and watching that jet streak by on blue skies. Used to try and imagine what would happen if one day those big dishes heard anything that wasn't us."

Her head tilted so that her working eye caught his. "Did your imaginings live up to what you found?"

"Cant say I imagined you ma'am." Heller winked. "Or the sex."

It was T'soona that leaned inwards to enclose her mandibles over his lips for just a moment before parting. "I understand what you're trying to say, Heller."

"Then lemme finish up your stitches. Try another round of sleeping, and we'll sort everything out as we go."

Her mandibles tensed into what he knew passed for a smirk by now. The green snake eye of hers narrowed sharply at him. "Who says we'll be sleeping?"

---

Her fingertips dug with lances of pain into his chest as her hands gripped tightly. Sweat rolled down her body as her breasts bounced with heavy slaps. Cum and fluids coted her thighs as she continued straddling him, gyrating her hips and tensing her muscles to work his cock back and forth.

Her eye watched his like a predator while her mandibles parted and stiffened with every heavy bounce of her lithe body. He could only hold her hips and caress her ass, slapping it to entice more relentless riding from her.

Her sweltering hot cunt constantly demanded, clenching and slick to drive him over the edge multipe times. He was at the limit of being able to fill her but his body simply responded to the use now.

Just when he thought he couldn't do it anymore, she'd flex and rotate her hips, trail her hands across her stomach and breasts, and stretch her toned arms upwards past her head with parted mandibles and deep moans that flushed her cheeks.

She could hold that position and work his cock like some kind of exotic dancer, writhing her flexible body as if possesed entirely by lust. Another volley of cum filled her insides every time she found a different way to work her body overtop of him.

But she had her own limits as well. In the dim lighting of night on the ship amongst the grass reeds, Heller pushed himself up, holding her body close to his as she rested on his hips to straddle him, cunt still stretched and wanting more.

They would develop a slow rocking pattern together, arms holding each other close until finally the heat of sex would die down, and they would lay down together, drifting off into the night.

---

The lighting of the ship adjusted to mimic morning, rousing both of them. Off to the region of the ship Heller just knew as "the waterworks" before returning from the shower to a smaller compartment of the ship that contained most of the food storage. He was in luck that it was a luxury Covenant craft. No nutrient sludge for the alien species T'soona called San'Shyuum, but real food.

The first week of the trip had been trial and error. Heller had to learn the hard way what he could stomach and couldn't. Some of the fruits growing in the curated biosphere of the main floor he could take, and most of the dried meats were fine, so long as he didn't ask what it was. What counted for breakfast was short before he took the ship's gravity lift downwards to find T'soona in the depths of the bridge already.

Her arms were crossed in concern as she studied the holographic glyphs displayed by the central console. Her eye found his as he descended from the lift. Heller felt it in his gut. Something was wrong. She spoke before he could say anything.

"It's a message, Heller....a warning. I just can't believe if it is true, or some kind of trick."

He eyed the floating glyphs with a shrug. "What's it say?"

"There has been a quarantine zone established around High Charity, and the Holy Ring. Any vessels attempting to flee within a one light year perimeter will be targeted if they do not present proof of bearing no infection and submit to screening."

"Infection? Who's worried about infection during all this?"

T'soona's mandibles were tense. "There is only one lifeform in Covenant records refferred to as an infection, Heller. This is not a term used lightly. Which....is why I don't know what to believe."

He chuckled. "Humanity is usually called an Infestation in Covenant broadcasts. What's so special about this infection?"

"I have never seen it myself, or been granted access to records or recordings. I only know that it is a virulent parasite. It uses host bodies to spread itself. We have only ever encountered it deep within relics of the Gods."

Heller crossed his arms. "Sounds about like a parasite to me. And that ring, Halo? Just so happens to be in the vicinity?"

"Which may be why this is a ruse. The work of a clever sabotuer keeping ships away from the Holy City. The message does not say whom it was sent by. It could be Sangheili-"

"Or Brutes."

"Yes. This means that fighting likely has broken out even within the Holy City itself."

Heller grit his teeth. "I knew this was going to be complicated, but does does this change our plans?"

"It may aid us, Heller. If there is fighting, we won't be a major concern. It may give us room to slip aboard and infiltrate the Minister's private chambers."

"Okay. We should gear up. Few hours to go. Are you ready to do this?"

She eyed the message one last time, nodding, although Heller could see she wasn't at ease. Her eye found his and her expression changed to one he was used to.

"Yes. Let us prepare."

---

While not a fully complimented warship, the Minister's vessel did have some armaments worth filing through. Heller was happy to find another of the wrist mounted energy shields sported by Jackals, among other things. He eyed up a purple crate loaded with what appeared to be heavier plasma rifles, whistling when he recalled memories an odd fifteen years back.

"I haven't seen Covenant troops using these in a long time. Fucking hell I didn't miss seeing them."

T'soona turned, what passed for a grimace on her mandibles graced them before she continued inspecting what was available. "The handiwork of San'shyuum engineers, Heller. Artisan Armorers tend to focus on lethality and efficiency, rather than maiming."

"Plasma burned just hot enough to leave the worst wounds, but wouldn't kill unless you got hosed down full auto. Saw a lot of Brutes with them in the early days. Honestly, I'm lost here. I know we'll be seeing action. Can't bring the whole armory with me."

"How is your wound, Heller?"

"Better, still sore. Fracture's going to take time even with the brace you rigged."

"Then you should travel light in case we end up in protracted engagements. Let me carry for the two of us."

"My pa would never let me live it down if a woman could rucksack more than me. But seeing as you've got a couple feet in height over me, just this once."

He turned to inspect the rest of the racks in the small compartment, only to be met with a plasma pistol held out to him. T'soona tilted her head. "You tend to speak more when you are not at ease."

He took the pistol with a nod. "I still think this is batshit insane, you know. We're both going to get iced if we do this. Worst part is, only one of us might get iced and have to go on. You can still stop, you know."

"I know, Heller. But I need answers."

"Hey, I'd like some too. Not as much as you, but you get the point. I'm with you, even if this is fubar."

T'soona bowed her head curtly. "Then let us go to the bridge. We don't have long."

Heller smiled meekly. "Anything else on the to-do list before we get down to business? Could be our last chance."

T'soona imposed herself over him with a quick stride, mandibles parting for a brief kiss that held for just a moment enough to daze in its intensity before she broke away with a flush. "Come, Heller. Should we fall, there will be time in the afterlife."

"I would have made for an instant convert to your beliefs if that was the promise of eternal life, ma'am. Let's do this."

---

It was an all too familiar feeling for Heller. Waiting for what would come next. It quickly bordered on deja vu when alarms sounded throughout the ship, promting a hurried sprint to the bridge deeper below deck. The ship had gone into combat ready mode, waiting for instructions.

A larger Covenant vessel appeared on the tactical grid of the main console, and already had weapon lock-ons active. Glyphs on the console lit up with the indicators with firing vectors, escape parameters, and most importantly, a message. T'soona explained it quickly to Heller.

"They're hailing us and have given us thirty seconds to respond before they attack."

Heller rocked in his boots, inhaling slowly. "Can we outrun them?"

"No."

"We don't have a choice then."

T'soona nodded, hands gripping the alien Carbine she carried as she opened a channel, once again speaking with an air of certain authority.

"Unknown vessel we are answering your hail. This is Exemplar T'soona Dasumee. Cease your target locks and we may converse in peace."

Silence followed the transmission. Heller edged closer to T'soona. If the vessel opened fire, their smaller one wouldn't survive a barrage for long. Death would be quick at least. The volley never came. Glyphs blinked awaiting a comm channel. T'soona activated it, and the two watched as the central display came to life, displaying a white armored Elite, arms crossed behind his back.

His tone of authority challenged T'soona's with ease. "I am Shipmaster Oro Vadum. Hail Exemplar. There is much to converse, so let us."

The target locks had not ceased. The Shipmaster's gaze seemed to cut through the hologram, eyes traveling to Heller before returning to T'soona as if he were present in person. Oro spoke first.

"There is an established perimeter around the Holy City. Only those with a death wish would proceed, unless they were ignorant to the state of things. Given current times, such may be the case. Why have you exceeded the perimeter Exemplar?"

T'soona's eye caught Heller's. They spoke without saying a word. This Elite couldn't be trifled with. Honesty, for better or worse was the only way. "I have been given a mission of utmost importance, Shipmaster."

"By whom?"

"The Minister of Toil. I have been granted access to his estate and chambers within High Charity to retrieve vital data, and if possible, investigate the status of the Holy Ring."

Shipmaster Oro's demeanor changed instantly. The peircing gaze of judgement he had been displaying so far had vanished, replaced with what Heller could only make out as some kind of deep fatigue.

"Then you do not know. There is much to discuss." Oro's peircing eyes turned now to Heller as he spoke in clear English. "And you, Human. What of you?"

The Elite's gaze evoked something in him. A certain fire of anger. He'd seen that look on a lot of eyes facing down the barrel of a gun. He held his own contempt at bay. "It's a long story. I'm with her."

Oro nodded with a certain sternness. "You may be pleased to know that your kind are stationed here as well. There is at present.....an alliance. I request that the two of you dock with your vessel so that we may meet in person. Time is of the essence, however."

The channel closed and cut abruptly. Targetting locks ceased on their ship. Both Heller and T'soona exhaled slowly, but Heller spoke first. "Do you trust him?"

"I do not believe I have much for choices, Heller. But yes, I do."

"I don't."

"The Shipmaster said that there was an alliance. Does that not interest you?"

"It does. I just don't want to walk aboard that ship with our guards down just because you're talking to one of your own."

T'soona's mandibles tensed before she nodded. "I understand you, Heller. Trust me. I trust you."

"Okay."

T'soona held her rifle with conviction. "Come. Let us make sense of this madness."

---

The Minister's vessel was drawn into the cruiser's ample hangar bay. The greeting as the two traversed the lift down had amounted to a tense standoff. At the sight of dozens of armed Elites Heller activated his gauntlet and hunkered behind it as T'soona flanked him, Carbine peeking over his shield at the ready. It wasn't until the Shipmaster himself appeared that the standoff ceased.

Oro approached with no weapons nor activated shields, every other Elite in the hangar bay following his command. He stood in full view of Heller's pistol and T'soona's rifle, mere feet from them. His tone was unphased.

"Apologies, Exemplar. One cannot be too cautious as of late. The Parasite has rapidly grown clever in its attempts to escape this system."

T'soona held her aim steady. "It's true then? The holy city?"

Oro nodded. "It was overrun to chaos within hours. It has been a week since. Broadcasts from survivors have become nearly silent."

"How could such a thing happen?"

"The Parasite was active on the ring before our forces ever touched the surface. Such uncontained growth, it was only a matter of time."

Heller spoke, still hunkered behind the shield. "Why are there UNSC forces in this system?"

Oro's steel gaze matched Heller. "They are survivors of the first engagements upon this ring. Others came from your homeworld. Ships are being sent in an effort to help stop the Parasite from spreading."

Heller was momentarily speechless. "Earth. You mean Earth, that's the planet's name?"

Oro's gaze studied both T'soona and Heller now. "How long have you two been travelling?"

"Months, at least."

Oro nodded. "I see. Then let me grant the condensed version. Your homeworld was found by an expedition force. Coordinates taken there led to this system, and the Ring. But there was more to be found. The High Prophet of Truth departed with the Dreadnaught and his Brute fleets a week ago."

Oro's gaze found T'soona's. That same sense of weariness presented itself now. "And to you, Exemplar. The Prophets decieved us. The Journey is a lie. Most of the High Council were slain by the Jiralhanae in an uprising led by Truth himself. The only truth to be found in this system is that of the Parasite and its all consuming death if we do not stop it."

The entire hangar bay fell into a still. The amassed warriors behind Oro regarded T'soona with sympathy. Heller was still trying to process what he'd heard as well, but unlatched his helmet and stowed his pistol as he stared up at T'soona.

"Boss. You good?"

Her expression was frozen. Mandibles tensed, eye gazing unfocused before her senses reclaimed her and her rifle raised to Oro as she hissed.

"Lies! It can't be."

Oro's head turned to the soldiers behind him to sillently tell them to stay their hands before he approached with raised hands. "The Alpha Cheiftan of one of the Master Packs employed by the Heiarchs, Tartarus, was slain in the ring's control room by an Arbiter and what was left of the High Council. We have the footage of everything, and the testamony of an Oracle. The Rings bring no salvation sister, only damnation."

Heller deactivated his gauntlet, turning to face T'soona. The trigger on her Carbine rifle was half squeezed. He put a hand to her wrist. "T'soona. Look at me. It's okay. I've got you."

Her gaze couldn't hold his for long. Locking eyes threatened to break free what she was holding back. Her breathing steadied and her rifle lowered aimlessly. "I.... I need time."

Oro solemnly nodded. "Time is short, but there is some. I would speak with your companion while I grant you leave to do as you wish aboard my ship."

Heller reached up to her shoulders, eye to eye. "Not going anywhere until you're settled."

T'soona shook her head, half focused. "Heller...I can't. I need to be alone. Go..."

The weak grip her hands held onto his as she pulled away said everything. He nodded silently as she stepped back into the central lift of the Minister's ship, ascending without a word. The Shipmaster's imposing frame stopped next to Heller's.

"You will find no danger aboard my ship, Human. This alliance between our kind is...uneasy, but we must address whom our real foes are. I would speak with you at the bridge."

Some of the fire Heller had earlier dissappeared in him. The Shipmaster left a stinging impression in him, but at least he seemed altruistic. He watched the gravity lift shimmer momentarily, wanting to go after T'soona.

"Listen. I'm open to working together here. Whatever you did in the past, whatever I did in the past, it's done now. We're agreed?"

Oro's heavy frame let out a long exhale. "Were it so easy, human. That the Exemplar openly trusts you is a good example for my men, and perhaps in due time both our species. For now let us discuss what is at hand."

"Agreed. Lead the way."

---

Heller followed the Shipmaster through clausterphobia inducing hallways. The purple panels and curved walls were nearly identical to the ship he and T'soona had met on. The sense of deja vu as he rounded junctions and passed through doors that slid open didn't add anything to to what he was trying to process.

Earth had been found, finally, after more than twenty five long years. The relics The Covenant had chased after since the beginning had been found, and like pandora's box changed the shape of the cosmos upon being opened. But more frightening to think of was this....parasite. Had a disease truly overrun a nearly mythical symbol of status to the Covenant within hours?

The UNSC had spent years trying to find and pinpoint strategic targets to the Covenant, and based off their space stations, if they had a central command hub, it must have been enormous, with enough firepower and protection to contend with maybe even the combined strength of what the UNSC had left for fleets in every single system.

Heller spoke as he walked beside Oro. "There's a quarantine around this system. But I don't know what it is you're fighting other than confused Covenant forces."

"These may be questions to relay to the Shipmaster of your own kin, human. Their authority presides over you, not I."

"I go where T'soona goes."

"Not to your homeworld?"

"You say there's a...what, a Dreadnaught? And a Brute fleet going to Earth, but you're here and so is the UNSC."

Oro's steely gaze turned back for a moment to Heller. "You grossly misjudge the severity of the situation. What is happening here is as vital as what is happening upon your world. I did not explain all to the Exemplar, or you."

"Then clue me in."

"The Parasite came from the Ring. And the Ring is....a weapon. It has enough power to cleanse vast swaths of galactic territory in an instant, and it does not discriminate. It kills all life, because all life is food for the Parasite."

Heller inhaled slowly. "Yes...but WHAT is the parasite? An airborne disease? A killer virus?"

Oro's mandibles tensed. "I had not finished. The High Prophet of Truth found a gateway on your world that leads somewhere. We believe it leads to the station responsible for firing the network of Rings in our galaxy. If these rings are activated together, all life ends."

Heller closed his eyes momentarily, trying to picture the destructive power being described. It didn't seem possible. Oro stopped briefly. His expression was even more severe.

"To truly comprehend the Parasite, you must see what it is and does. To put this into terms that you may grasp due to your ignorance, imagine that you have slain me in battle. The Parasite could then command my body, and turn it into a weapon that does not feel pain or remorse. But it does not need corpses to do this. Now do you grasp the severity of this situation?"

"I...think so. No matter who, we're all potential hosts? And because we're all hosts....these Rings need to be thorough?"

Oro nodded slowly. Heller finally noticed that Oro's severe looks were mainly due to the dark rings around his reptillian eyes. Even on the alien's features it was unmistakeable. Oro had been in combat for days without sleep. His eyes bore holes into Heller as he looked directly into them.

"If our ships fled this system to assist those doing battle at your homeworld, it would be the same outcome as activating the very Ring we orbit. But this disease is not just a disease. It is adapting to our strategies, and we do not have the resources to fully stop it."

A cold crept up Heller's spine. A game of chess, except one side had already won. No matter how many moves were made there was an inevitability waiting to happen. The doors to the bridge slid open, revealing a spacious command center and a raised central platform. Dozens of Elites worked at stations throughout the room.

"Come Human. Your combat armor is damaged. I will summon the Huragok aboard my vessel to repair it. You will need it, should you decide to stay in this system. I doubt the Exemplar will leave when she understands the gravity of this situation."

Heller eyed the central displays of the bridge. What looked like a map of the system they were in. Red vectors and glyphs floated in clusters of dozens. Blue glyphs were few. An impressive ghostly ring floated amonst the projections, and what looked like some kind of space station. Both were red. He stopped in the doorway as Oro walked up the elevated ramp to the central platform.

"I haven't been with her long. But I've never seen her like this. It's not her."

Oro simply nodded. "I and my men had to pass through such a phase. We all respond differently. Ponder what five thousand years of lies means to one such as her, Human. But do not doubt her. She is an Exemplar for a reason. All her kind are."

It hit him like a truck full of bricks. Fourteen sisters for an oath to a Covenant of lies. Heller turned on the spot.

"Hold that, Shipmaster. I need to go to her."

Oro turned, standing tall on his bridge. "That won't be possible. She departed several minutes ago."

Heller stammered like a schoolboy. "Excuse me? W-what?"

Oro nodded, whisking commands on the holograms nearby until a blue target was enlarged. It looked exactly like the minister's ship. Its trajectory led to the space station near the ring.

"It was her request over another frequency. I believe if she is to emerge from the revelation of her shattered faith, she must pass through the fire she cast herself into."

Heller's fists clenched shut as a barely contained rage flooded hs veins.

"Spoken like a true religious zealot..."

Oro remained unphased. "No. A damned soul with the blood of untold thousands upon his hands in the name of a lie. There are no words that I may say to describe what you being aboard my ship means to me, Human. The shame of what I have done cannot be whisked away with the passage of words. I believe I understand why the Exemplar is doing what she is doing."

"You'd best tell me exactly what she's doing and then get me a damn ship to catch her."

"She cannot face you or the truth without seeking absolution. A final task as a warrior of the Covenant, so that she may move forwards."

"There's no moving forwards if she's dead!"

"You underestimate her-"

Red glyphs lit up across the bridge and alarms sounded. An Elite working at a nearby console shouted.

"By the gods that's the largest wave they've sent!"

Oro took charge immediately. "Get me displays. Alert every able ship within this system, hail our Human allies, hail Brutes if there are any, we need every ship."

Another Elite shouted from his console. "Shipmaster! There are drive signatures coming from the Ring! Their vectors align with our ships!"

Glyphs exploded across the bridge in red, swathing Oro in an overwhelming sea of information that pointed to only one thing. Checkmate. The Shipmaster was worthy of his title. He calculated briefly before speaking calmly.

"I want all fighter craft launched. Slow what is incoming towards our ships while we destroy those that try to escape. I want this entire ship ready for lockdown and combat teams formed to deal with breaches. I want all ship board weapons focusing on ships trying to escape the system. Time is limited, take disabling shots on engines, we can cleanse them afterwards."

Oro turned to Heller amidst the chaos.

"Time is short before their boarding attempts reach us Human. The Huragok will repair your armor and lead you to a combat team, if you wish to fight with us. All ships are currently engaged in more pressing matters. You will have to walk to catch your Exemplar."

Despite the grave tone across the bridge Heller cracked a smile.

"Due respect, Shipmaster. You're a cunt."

"If we survive this battle I will grant you a ship to go to her."

"I'll hold you to that. If she dies I will come back and scalp your scaly head myself."

Oro nodded calmly, returning his attention to matters at the bridge.

"It would not be the first time your kind have said such vulgarities. It may be the last. Fight with everything that you can muster against what is coming, Heller. A word of advice. If you are compromised....find a way to destroy yourself thouroughly."

---

T'soona stood, arms crossed as she contemplated answering the hailing frequency. It blinked, demanding attention. Her mandibles tensed tightly, upper incisors pressing painfully. She answered the hail. It was Shipmaster Oro.

"There is little time. High Charity has launched craft on escape vectors. Ships are coming towards my fleet with others from the Ring. We are caught in a closed trap."

Before she could say anything, Oro cut her off. "You cannot return at present. My vessel is under lockdown. It was obvious to me when you stepped off the lift. The Human's temperment proves it. You are more than just stray travellers."

"Shipmaster. Protect him, please."

"I can promise nothing, though I can see in his eyes that he is a warrior. Some Humans possess it within them."

T'soona nodded with a hard summoned smile. "Yes. Yes he is, Shipmaster."

"A word of caution, Exemplar. The Parasite is evolving rapidly. The tactics and abominations we have seen this last week alone defy all our known records."

"Oro. You understand why I must do this?"

The channel weakened with a burst of static. "Absolution for your sins, Exemplar. You commited them unaware that they were sins. We all did."

"That does not erase what we have done to them. Humans. The species before them."

"It does not. But the Parasite will, if its filth is allowed to spread. Give no mercy, Exemplar. Gods be with you."

The channel washed out into static. T'soona opened up the recording left to her by the Minister of Toil. His projection hovered still and lifeless as she stared into his eyes. There was a lapse in her composure as her fist slammed into the main console. She inhaled slowly, exhaling controlled breathes as she relaxed her tensed muscles.

"You knew, didn't you? Did you task me with this in the hopes that I would perish? Or were you trying to be rid of me? I will have my answers, Prophet. I will find you no matter how far you run."

She left the console to prepare for docking just outside High Charity. She had requested a new suit of combat armour, sealed for space and designed for heavier combat. Oro had granted her request. The black special operations plates gleamed freshly as her old scarred armour fell away with her old undersuit to the deck plating.

The sealed helmet's lenses reflected her scarred eye as she eyed her visage in them briefly. She stared down to the shrapnel ridden armor she left behind. The helmet slipped over her head with a sealing hiss. Her last distracting thought was Heller.

She cleared her mind, pushing away everything that had happened in the last hours. To truly do battle one had to become the weapon. Weapons did not hesitate or feel. They acted. She could feel the subtle inertia as the minister's ship began to decelerate to hold a safe distance outside of High Charity's docking ring.

There were no longer gods. She had difficulty with that. But she held a silent invocation to them anyway. She braced herself for what was coming.

---

Heller had never seen what Oro had referred to as a Huragok. The various species employed by the Covenant were vast, but the ceature that floated to him was alien, truly. Like a living luminescent gasbag with feather duster tentacles and six curious eyes with a head like an eel's.

The most remarkable thing about it was that apparently it had taken it all but a minute to repair his armor. The cracks and shrapnel marks on his visor, they had just...dissappeared as the feather duster tendrils brushed over the damage and hovered their briefly.

The alien said nothing, but the stocky black armored Grunt that had arrived with the alien did the speaking for it as it floated through the corridors, leading Heller into the ship to who knew where.

"Me Bolf. Huragok is Wayward Attention. You help us?"

Heller went with it. "Yeah. Your...Shipmaster said the Huragok would take me to where I could help."

Bolf's head tilted as he eyed Heller with beady red eyes. "Me take to leader. We protect ship from Parasite." Bolf carried himself quickly on all fours to keep up with the Huragok as it lead them through winding corridors. Heller kept a quick pace behind them.

"Bolf. What can you tell me about this Parasite?"

"Scary."

Heller rolled his eyes under his helmet. He shouldn't have expected a complex answer. He never got to say what he had in mind as the hull of the ship rattled violently and the lights in the corridors flickered. Bolf and Heller were sent into a wall as the ship tilted before restablishing itself. Shipmaster Oro's voice suddenly filled the halls over the comm system.

"Hangar bay one was just vented in an attempt to drive what we could off our ship. Hangar bay two is compromised. I want ship board teams to secure bays one and two, and secondary teams behind them making sure nothing finds its way deeper into our ship!"

Wayward simply floated, looking nonplussed about the situation, but the Grunt with him grew agitated. "You hide! We go to hangar with others!" Bolf twitched his thick fingers in emmaculate gestures. The Huragok nodded, drifting past Heller to make its way back deeper into the ship. Bolf drew the plasma rifle he carried with him, beady eyes watching Heller. "You have Kig-Yar shield. Turn on. We close to hangar."

Heller inhaled slowly, steadying himself. First contact with something unknown was coming. It was alien enough that even the Covenant feared it. He tried to push T'soona out of his head, readying his pistol and covering Bolf as the stocky alien advanced down the corridor.

The ship seemed to enter an unsettling still. There were no others in the corridor Bolf was leading Heller down. The ship hummed and rattled with what Heller could only assume were the main weapons discharging. But beyond that, everything was.... standard, for a Covenant vessel.

Bolf stopped in his tracks, head raised to the air as methane fumes leeched from his mask in thicker spurts. The alien's thick arm raised with a closed fist as his rifle scanned the hallway ahead. Not far down there was a four way junction. Heller was impressed with Bolf's combat awareness.

"Me smell... bad smell."

Heller scanned the hallway ahead with his pistol. Apart from the illumination of blue and purple lighting and energy pulsing through cables in the walls, he couldn't spot anything. That was until his motion tracker pinged a friendly contact. "IFF tags. Bolf, I've got a friendly contact on my radar up ahead."

Bolf remained stiff, weapon trained down the corridor. He shook his head urgently. "We hold position."

It was then that the filtration system in his suit caught it. Not even the air scrubbers removed the tinge of decaying flesh. As if on cue, the figure of a Human limped and stumbled into the junction ahead. Heller went ice cold.

She was a marine. She limped along, her back facing them. Or what was left of it. Her lower organs and stomach had been blown apart, leaving only a sickish coloured spinal column to support her. Dead muddy eyes locked with Heller's as if she were staring right through his visor as her head, neck having been snapped, hung behind her shoulders.

Brunette hair swayed as her mouth twitched, and the gurglish wail that escaped her lips imprinted itself into his dreams for years to come as her sickly, broken visage turned. Her front armor had been forced into, a semblence of her body's beauty remained with taught breasts, but everything else was nightmarishly warped, like some plague had covered and spread across her body, ripping apart skin and bone, mutating black veins and molding her body into something horrific.

What puppeteered her corpse rested inside her chest, tendrils flailing with red cillia as it sensed Bolf and Heller. Her corpse lurched forwards with unexpected speed, trailing whiplike tendrils that had sprouted through a sickly rotting arm by forcing bone apart.

Bolf and Heller hosed down the marine at the same time. Plasma seared through her gangreenish vein ridden body, burning black holes as she let free a scream before her upper shoulders melted in splashes of plasma.

The corpse kept coming until Bolf hosed plasma into her upper torso. The thing inside her burst like a disgusting balloon with a squelch, splashing vomit coloured fluids across the walls and deck floor. The woman collapsed to the floor like a water laden sponge. Bolf continued to fire his rifle into her body, reducing her upper torso into charred carbon.

Heller's forehead was beaded with sweat as he stared at what was left of the marine. Her dislocated neck and limp head leered up at him with empty eyes and lips parted in a forever scream. Bolf had stopped firing. His beady red eyes met Heller's eyes. "Destroy body. They get back up."

Heller merely nodded. He had no words. As if he could say any less, he managed it as his gut formed a knot and twisted on itself as he looked ahead down the hall. The woman's mangled scream wasn't baseless. It had called attention.

The entire junction seemed to move and writhe as flesh covered every surface. Flesh coloured sacks evoking the heart stopping speed of a spider's legs carrying it quickly hit something primal in Heller. He began firing into the approaching mass as did Bolf, but it was clear there were other bodies within the mass.

Heller caught the shapes of limbs and bodies, twisted, rotted and screeching, and in the moment the lights in the hallway flickered as the ship shuddered, the eyes of the puppeted bodies shined the most hollow light Heller had ever known as their mouths screamed on mangled vocal cords in Human and alien tongues.

A blue light filled the hallway as Bolf activated a plasma grenade, throwing it forcefully at the advancing wave of horror. Bolf backpeddled while firing. "We retreat!"

Heller locked up. A moment of shock that nearly cost him his life as the first of the small flesh sacks came within a few feet of him and suddenly leaped forwards. The Jackal's shield deflected them as he reacted, bashing them into the wall as he shouted. They popped and squelched sickly, splashing his armor.

He backpeddled with Bolf frantically down the narrow hallway, firing his pistol so quickly it overheated. The hallway up ahead shuddered with the shockwave of the grenade as light bloomed and his visor flared to protect his eyes.

He heard what sounded like a chain reaction of water balloons popping grotesquely and warped screams as some of what was advancing was caught in the blast. Melted wall panels fell to the floor and conduits surged as the grenade melted them, outing power in the hallway.

Heller's night vision kicked in just in time to see something moving through the lingering smoke of the grenade. It was enormous as it lumbered forwards, shaking the deck plates. It was like a converged pile of flesh and bones re-arranged into a humanoid with arms formed out of bone and torsos belonging to Elites and Humans. He caught mangled heads swaying limply, their eyes gleaming as they watched him.

One massive arm lowered, revealing what counted as its head, hanging jaw parting as it retched and moaned, and before he could react, more of the small flesh sacks spewed from its maw, overtaking Bolf in a horrid tide.

Heller and Bolf fired on what they could, but the Grunt's panicked screams grew frantic as his mask clattered to the floor, jaw forced open and broken with a crack and pop as one of the sacks forced its way into his body through his throat.

Bolf convulsed and spasmed as something overtook him, still screaming as it spread in the span of seconds as it forced its way out through his toughened skin, blue blood seeping out of the cracks to spatter the walls. Heller fired into Bolf, turning to break into a full sprint down the corridor. It was just like he was back on the ship he'd met T'soona on, except now a true nightmare as the door up ahead glowed red.

He hyperventilated, swearing, looking for something, anything. His pistol still had decent charge. Desperate, he fired at his feet until it overheated. The tidal wave of infected was gaining foot by foot down the hall. Something screeched in the crowd and something began whizzing past him.

"Comeoncomeoncomeon fuck!"

The hole in the floor grew white hot, deck plating melting away to reveal another deck below. The hole grew in size, just enough. Heller plunged into the hole, landing and rolling to push off in a dead sprint down another corridor. His breath hammered in his helmet as tried his comms, any frequency.

"Oro! I'm on my own, don't know where I am, they're right on my fucking ass!"

The seconds seemed like hours. He could hear squelches as something dropped to the floor behind him. His comm line buzzed in static.

"Help is ahead, Human. Keep straight upon your current path."

---

T'soona had left the Minister's ship at a safe orbit outside of High Charity's docks. The trip outside was largely uneventful, with the exception of blooms of light casting spots in the darknesss of space no matter which direction she looked. The space around the station was still a battleground in all directions.

In the shadow of a planet, more impressive and fantastical than anything she had ever seen in her life was a thin ring that dwarfed even High Charity in scale. Even with the revelation from Oro to her, as she drifted through the void of space her eye took in the sight. She could not help but ask herself, how could those who built the rings not be gods?

The splendor of the moment faded as she drifted closer to the lower sections of High Charity's intricate docking network, like an upside down tree that could hold thousands of even the largest Covenant vessels at a time. But it was not the return she ever could have hoped for.

Hundreds of dead vessels drifted near the docking aparatuses, shot and riddled until they were dead hulks. Many of the docking bays were seared apart from plasma lances. As lances of light lit up in the darkness of space all around her, the scene etched itself into her mind.

It was calm and vacant as air hissed from broken hulls and docking tubes, freezing in the vacuum. Even the blood froze. Her eye narrowed as she passed through vast swathes of frozen blood drifting in the vaccuum. It shined different colours from many species.

The strange disturbing sight drew her attention. Most of the blood seemed to be coming from a smaller docking tube that was close. She used her suit's thrusters, drifting to the purple conduit, to the threshold of the sealed doors. Her plasma lance ignited, sinking into the doors as it melted through them.

She cut a hole large enough to step through, and stepped into a nightmare. Hundreds of bodies filled the docking tube, some laying on the floor, others drifting gently in the vacuum. Her eye began to absorb the details and make out shapes in the gloom.

San' Shyuum, Sangheili, Unggoy, Kig-Yar. Most were dressed in elaborate garb. They were all citizens of High Charity, not soldiers. Blood of every colour coated the walls, and she had to push away frozen globules as they blocked her way forwards.

She paused at the end of the hallway, to another sealed door. In front of it floated the still and colourless bodies of a Sangheilian mother and child. Their frozen expressions were identical to the rest of the corpses in the hall. Panic. Fear.

She inhaled slowly, gingerly pushing the two aside as she focused and cut into the airlock door. This door had a shimmering forcefield behind it, keeping the atmosphere inside the station. As she passed through the hole she had cut, she immediately came into contact with what the citizens were running from.

The bodies stood motionless like mannequins, red cillia twitching, in response their puppeted bodies occassionally convulsed. The blown apart face of a Sangheili minor leered at her with shining empty eyes before they tracked her, and the infected Elite turned to face her.

Dozens of infected corpses did the same in unison. T'soona opened fire with her rifle one handed, keeping her blade ignited on her other gauntlet as mangled vocal chords screamed in delight at the sight of new flesh.

High Charity's sickly brown air hid their advancing bodies in shadow and seemed to envelop T'soona as she began her journey forwards into the dark halls.

---

By the time T'soona had her bearings and had marked out her target coordinates, she had traveled through kilometers of the lower networks of High Charity. Gravity lifts traveling upwards, travel hubs, it didn't matter what, every inch and room grew worse as she pressed further. A choking fog permeated the station, and began to coat her armour whenever her shields were broken. Flesh like growths seemed to permeate every wall and panel, creeping deep into every crevice.

Oro had been right. No longer was the Parasite simply using bodies. It was merging them into grotesque forms and amalgamations barely recognizeable by species. Well placed shots with her rifle sent radioactive rods through the chest cavities of basic plague victims, rupturing the hideous sack of bile and legs within them to down them instantly.

Their tactics were a quick study. Some bore weapons, and they used them with proficiency, but their main actions were a perilous lack of self preservation by mobbing her head on, and if they got close enough, their twisted rotting limbs bore enough strength to severely weaken her shields.

But the almagamations she began to see in greater frequency were beginning to test her limits. Agile forms that were difficult to track, lumbering hulks of flesh that refused to go down after a clip was emptied into them. The constant tide of bodies threatened to overwhelm her in many hallways and chokepoints.

Their faces seared themselves into the back of her memory. Younger San Shyuum, Sangheilian children, Kig-Yar, Unggoy, Jiralhanae, soldiers of the Covenant. All screaming, their eyes empty. Every hall bore a new horror. What was once a holy place of gathering had been overtaken and turned into a mass grave.

Perhaps what stayed with her the most when she finally emerged from the lower docking sections into the vast dome of her once beloved city was its center. What had been a radiant city for every member species of the Covenant, spanning in ringed sections outwards, built around the holy Dreadnaught, all had gone dark and dim. The Dreadnaught was gone, as if to truly signify the breaking of the Covenant.

Her brief yet hurried reflections were interrupted at the central transit hub by the sound of gunfire in the distance. She passed along from empty docking pad to docking pad, making her way to a large central cylindrical structure. From inside the whine of plasma fire was the loudest. The gunfire was attracting most of the infected in the area.

She was beginning to grow fatigued as she cut her way through tides of bodies converging on the structure. Inside its elegant purple halls she found what was left of a surviving pocket of resistance, or what had been one.

A hallway inclined upwards, stacked high with whatever could be used as barricades. Bodies of the parasite were stacked high in piles as she pressed deeper into the chokepoint. Rotting blood coated the floor and walls as she stepped through decayed organs and charred limbs. The barricades had ultimately succumbed to some kind of explosive force, the defenders behind them blown apart and scattered across the hall and floor.

Rotted blood turned to fresh blood scattering the hall, the bodies of defenders laying where they had fallen or been blown apart to, until she reached the apex of the hallway. A mounted plasma canon had gone quiet. Her weapon remained steady as she pushed up the ramp to find a black armored sangheili slumped onto the gun. He choked up purple blood as he spotted her.

"I....must be hallucinating. A fair trick of the mind, to fade away to."

It became evident why he was slumped against the cannon. Behind him lay partially infected bodies. Three gash marks lined and cut through his black armor into his spine. T'soona acted quickly.

"I am no hallucination brother. Come, focus. Keep the gun steady down the hall."

She kept her rifle at the ready, aiming back down the once elegant hall. Her blade was still ignited. She stood to the gunner's backside, crouching beside him.

"Brother, this will hurt."

The soldier inhaled slowly. "I am ready."

Her blade hovered close to one of the gash marks at his back, enough to begin searing skin. The soldier's mandibles parted with a roar as his entire body tensed. As if on cue, the wail of strangled vocal chords sounded out in the distance. Her blade traveled to the second gash.

Movement exploded down at the end of the hallway as the walls, floor and ceiling seemed to writhe under a carpet of moving flesh. The soldier screamed, but held the gun steady, letting volleys of plasma erupt down the hallway. T'soona fired her carbine into the advancing wall. Her voice was calm but she could feel it creeping into the back of her mind. Fear.

"One more, brother...."

Skin melted and smoked, and the soldier screamed his loudest, but defiantly remained slumped at the gun, firing it until it too began to smoke and radiate heat. The smaller parasite sacks ruptured in chain reactions, splashing cuastic vomit coloured insides everywhere, as bodies began to fall under the hail of plasma.

Movement caught the corner of her eye, and T'soona reacted. She turned to see the impossible. A recently deceased Sangheili, no older than twenty cycles, convulsed on the floor as something spread through his veins and body, until his body stood upright, dead eyes gleaming.

Her blade cleaved through his body in quick swings, splashing sickly purple but growing green and brownish blood across her armor. She froze as she stared at his face momentarily, snapping back as silence filled the hall. The soldier let out a long sigh as he looked back with difficulty.

"It is in the air, sister. Without filters or shielding.....they all turn."

A wave of fatigue passed over T'soona, and she found herself leaning against a nearby wall. She spoke aloud. "I should not have come here."

The soldier remained slumped at the turret. "Now I understand why you look so heavenly, Exemplar. What...brings you to this hell?"

"I was...looking for something. Answers. What of you, brother?"

He gestured to the bodies all around him. "I...was leading them to safety. A dropship." With the gesture, he collapsed to the floor. "I will not last long, sister. I do not care what brought you here. Take my ship. It...is in the main hangar, not far.”

She knelt down to him, extending a hand. "Come with me. I can retrieve what I came here for, and we shall leave this place."

His amber eyes bore holes through the lenses of her helmet. She saw a fatigue in them that went beyond twenty five years of war as he shook his head.

"My wife is still out there.... my son is...there..." His eyes loomed over to what was left of the body she had hacked through.

The way the soldier had said "wife" struck her like a battering ram. She pushed the errant thoughts aside. She grasped his wrist, pulling him to his feet to lean against her. He shook his head, pushing away from her.

"No, let me stay...I need to find her..."

He fell to the floor, into the mess of blood and filth, staring into the dead eyes of the younger Sangheili's severed head as it rested motionless on the floor. For a moment, she wanted to pull him up again. To cite a promise in the scripts of the Covenant. Of the eternal life that awaited those who died along the path, as glorious as ascending itself. But she had nothing, now.

"Brother, what is your name?"

The soldier looked up at her, and she saw the finality in his eyes. "I....was Den 'Ortumee."

In the distance another tortured cry sounded out. Den pushed himself to his feet stubbornly, manning the turret once more, this time igniting a sword hilt in one hand. He turned back to T'soona.

"Go."

T'soona solemnly nodded, if reluctantly. Before leaving, she spoke briefly. "Fight well, Den 'Ortum."

The turret began to whine as she sprinted away deeper into the hangar bay to find the dropship, true to Den's word. The Phantom's engines ignited as she rose into the ichor that clung to the air, and she took one last look at the structure through the ship's display feeds, at the shapes of the bodies surging towards it in the fog. It was merely a few adjustments to flight coordinates, and the ship left with speed toward what used to be the inner city and districts of High Charity.

---

She had a brief window of calm as she settled into the pilot's seat of the Phantom. It sped high into the spacious dome of High Charity, making for the inner districts, the coordinates marked by the Minister of Toil. She engaged the automatic targeting system, and found herself listening to the hums of the Phantom's triple turrets shortly afterwards.

Inspection of the viewscreens showed a despairing sight outside, even in the air high above the city. What had passed for wildlife in the city, free flying birds native to many worlds, they too had all succumbed to the Parasite. Infested and filled with growths, their stomachs distended to pulsating sacks as they attempted to puke caustic acid onto the Phantom.

The guns made short work of these swarms in smaller numbers, but did nothing to quell T'soona's growing unease. As if the air would somehow be safe. As if this place was still what it used to be. She could only look at the viewscreens to the city below.

Five thousand years of building and seeking. The cityscape below was flooded with thick fog, blue and purple fires burning uncontrolled in some sections. First it was civil war between Sangheili and Brutes, and now all was succumbing to rot. Rot that came from the very Halos they had sought for so long.

There was a brief moment as she overlooked the dying cityscape. She felt as if for the first time in a long time she could weep. But then she had a singular moment of clarity. Heller's musings on what was arguably a figure of myth to Humanity, and the Covenant for entirely different reasons.

One of their greatest warriors was responsible for the destruction of the first discovered Halo ring. Now, she understood why. It was like a luminating sun to her. Against all odds one warrior had prevailed against darkness, and in its stead came truth to light the path. The truth was never easy to accept.

But to bring honor to herself, fighting for truth was an important tenant. And she was close to another piece of the truth now, as the Phantom neared the ornate purple tower that spiraled upwards amongst many. The Minister's estate.

She checked the rounds left in her Carbine, flexing weary muscles as she could make out a landing pad nearing closer. Back to manual controls as she guided the Phantom down to hover at the pad, she exhaled calmly as she stepped into the lift.

She hit the ground with a roll as a swarm of infested birds that had clung to the Phantom's frame took flight, caustic fluids raining down onto the pad along with infection forms. She became a dancer, weaving to cut the writhing swarms at her feet with her blade, sending burning irradiated rods through the birds to rupture them in explosive sickly clouds.

The Phantom's turrets covered her as she sprinted towards the ornate doors of the Minister's estate, its walls and doors covered in grime and filfth and glowing dimly on emergency power. The doors parted upon recognizing her clearance level, bringing her face to face with what may have been the estate's steward.

A middle aged San'Shyuum, bloated beyond recognition except for the flesh around his face, screaming hoarsely as his body convulsed, skin stretching until it burst, speading guts and bile in a radius all around where he stood. The force of the blast knocked her shields out and sent her sprawling through the air backwards to land near the edge of the landing platform. Her Carbine flew into the abyss of fog below.

Her shields crackled and her armour began to smoke from what had coated it. T'soona pushed herself up, wincing and unsteady as she coughed up purple blood and tasted copper. The Phantom's guns whined in the distance, and blurred shapes came running through the estate's doorway. She could not be sure if what she heard was real or not.

A mangled Kig-Yar body walked on four twisted limbs, head contorted with growths and jaws stretched apart to resemble a crab's pincer lined with razored teeth and bone fragments. A deep voice rumbled as if from within it and around it as it charged her.

"There-is-only-one-truth. We-will-show-you...."

Its jaws splayed wide as it leaped. One of her wrists snagged in its jaws while her energy lance swung, cleaving through it. The momentum of the creature toppled her back to the ground. She shook her head, pushing back up. "No."

Through the doorway she stumbled, perhaps into an ornate estate office once, its walls now covered in flesh and growths. A bit farther, to the main office ahead, to the storage vault. Something whizzed past her head, shattering on the floor in front of her before she was pelted from behind. Yellow crystaline projectiles shattered on her armor as she pushed ahead past another set of doors.

She stumbled into the main office. Its large ornate window that displayed the city below was shattered. Tentacles of flesh spilled in through the broken opening and laid across the room like roots. The room was encased in flesh, and at the central console where the vault was, lay a mass of dimly glowing pulsating sacks, in its center, what used to be a San'Shyuum, arms spread wide like some religious figure.

Her eye found his face, contorted apart to a scream of agony, before his own eyes opened. Her head reeled as if struck by a hammer inside her skull and she staggered. The tentacles across the floor came alive, twisting like snakes to quickly envelop her. They traveled up her legs and entwined across her entire body, constricting tightly.

Her armor began to creak and buckle painfully under their grip as she was pulled towards the flesh mass. The same voice echoed as if right beside her now.

"We-embrace-your-body."

T'soona struggled with whatever strength was left as the San'Shyuum's body loomed closer on the wall of pulsating flesh. She writhed and twisted, until at last her lance found purchase and seared through something, giving her an opening. She swung and lashed in fury and screamed until at last she was free.

The San'Shyuum's empty eyes found her, and she momentarily froze as if a bottomless abyss stared at her, before he began laughing and screaming at the same time. Her blade cleaved through his neck as she hacked at the mass to find what she had come for.

The small yet bulky device opened to her touch with a blue light that sent relief through her. Inside, a data chip, and nothing more. She snatched the device, slipping it into a safe compartment of her armor, before sprinting out through the doors.

Whatever abomination had taken shots at her in the previous room was gone. The empty estate entered a still, save for the pulsating of what grew out of every crevice and surface. One lone infected Sangheili limped into the doorway ahead of her, stopping and standing as his limbs twitched and convulsed erraticly.

For the final time, the voice spoke.

"Just-like-we-embraced-Heller. All-roads-lead-here."

Her mandibles tightened and she shook her head, speaking in English. "No....no....Go to hell..."

White plasma cleaved through the rotting Sangheili's body, splashing sickly blood and guts as she ran harder than she'd ever back to the Phantom. Full throttle as the ship took off, flying upwards to the ceiling of High Charity's dome, through the same grand opening the Dreadnaught departed from not but a week ago.

---

It was only a momentary pang of relief when he saw the chokehold up ahead. Crates stacked to force a narrow passageway, a plasma cannon mounted at the head of the opening, Elites and Grunts holding position behind the barricade. The Elite on the turret waved one hand to the side fiercely. "Down, Human!"

Heller dove to the floor as the turret erupted plasma into the mass behind him. He crawled on his hands and knees as the others opened fire from their vantage points. Infection forms burst and bodies wailed as they were cut down. He pushed himself up against the crates, shield up and pistol turned to fire into the wall of advancing bodies.

He shouldn't have been able to pinpoint him in the crowd, and yet for some reason the black armored Grunt that crawled along against the ceiling as a sickly pulsating mass with stick thin arms elongated into bone blades only could have been Bolf.

Heller realized the critical mistake too late as the gunner fired on Bolf's agile form. Plasma seared into the Grunt's methane tank, igniting it. Bolf's body shot forwards like a rocket as the methane caught fire. Heller instinctively started climbing over the crates as the turret still fired, scrambling to his feet, waving his arms to the Elites and Grunts frantically.

"Run!"

Bolf's body rocketed into the barricades, swelling like a balloon before it popped with the force of a small bomb. The hallway, ceiling, and walls bent outwards from the force and the first row of defenders at the barricade were blown apart to little more than upper torsos and limbs.

Wind suddenly pulled at Heller and he struggled to run forwards. His mag boots activated and he turned back to see a widening hole blown through the purple hull plating to the void of space beyond. Crates, Grunts and Elites along with the advancing wall of bodies were ripped into the air and pulled towards the hole.

An Elite crashed into Heller, knocking him over to begin tumbling with everything else towards the hole. He yelled as he tumbled, frantically trying to get purchase before his mag boots caught something. He reached for a red armored Elite that tumbled past him, managing a hold that felt like it ripped his arm out.

Lights flickered and more was sucked into the widening breach. Heller pushed forwards against the wind, dragging the Elite with him as if he were pulling a mountain. Step by painful step he drew closer to the door at the end of the hallway. The door remained shut, sealing due to the atmosphere breach.

He went for his pistol again, only to realize it had been sucked out into space. He looked back at the Elite he held on to for dear life. Pale as a ghost and blood being pulled through his wounds to crystalize in the cold. An upper torso that was already dead. He swore, letting the body go to the void.

It was then that he saw the problem. Most infected bodies were getting blown out through the hole. Some where not, and they were advancing. Lumbering forms that had crystiline yellow shards erupting from their spines, their jaws having been broken and splayed wide. The shards erupted from their throats, getting sucked into the breach, unable to hit him.

But it wouldn't be long. The hull section would lose its atmosphere soon and be sealed to equilibrium. Heller doubted that the vaccuum would bother them. All he had left was a knife and the shield. There was only one option left that he could see. He turned his mag boots off, curling into a ball against the jackal's arm shield. He tumbled towards the hole and out into the breach.

He was sent spinning at a dizzying pace into the black. But he caught glimpses of Oro's ship as he drifted away. It had taken extensive damage, clear by the fact that another Covenant vessel was embedded in its midsection. He closed his eyes, trying his comms.

"Oro. I've been spaced. I can see your ship from out here. I don't know if you can hold them off."

Static filled the line. He inhaled slowly, trying to relax as he spun. His comms chirped other signals. He opened his eyes, polarizing his visor and patching into it. Laughing or crying, he couldn't say.

"-is Bronze Age, we are moving to assist evac, sending Pelicans to hangar bay two now."

"-hold your fire Bronze Age, I am with the allied Sangheili, I am coming to aid."

Heller patched into the second comms line. He paused. He didn't even know what to say, but eventually, it came. "Ma'am. I've got ninety minutes of air out here. Get Oro's guys off that tub, then come get me."

A long pause filled the line.

"Heller...."

He felt a combination of a lot of things. But he could only smile briefly at her tone. "Yours truly. Still here."

"I....thought you were..."

"In about eighty seven minutes, give or take." He tried looking at something else other than Oro's ship as he spun. His eyes caught sight of the Ring orbiting the world beyond the clustered fleets and flashing points of light of weapons fire for the first time. "It is quite a view. Just don't keep me waiting too long."

"Heller..."

"Later. We've still got jobs to do."

"Yes. I shall see you soon."

Heller drifted through space, tumbling slowly. He polarized the visor again, but before it went dark, he caught the outline of a ship headed towards Oro's. Unmistakeable and breathtakingly majestic for a number of reasons. UNSC Destroyers were rare these days. He hailed the ship over the comms line.

"Bronze Age, this is Lance Corpral, James Heller, serial number JH-3983-7525-0042."

A woman's voice answered him back. "Shipboard AI, my designation is Yang. You seem quite healthy for a man listed as KIA, Corpral."

"I'm still working on that part myself ma'am. Just thought I'd drop by and let you know I was in the neighborhood."

"Acknowledged. On behalf of Captain Belhai and myself, we request that you come aboard once the current ongoing situation is dealt with. You aren't planning on walking, are you Corpral?"

"I've got a ride coming."

"And stories to regale us with, I am sure."

"I didn't exactly desert, if that's what you're asking. I survived on dumb luck. And no, I don't need a psych eval.”

"Well Corpral, times are rather serious. I am afraid we'll have to skip some technicalities for later. Your case is already a fascinating one, I can see."

"You heard my earlier comm pings?"

"Yes. You seem to have fallen in with a group of Elites. Most curious. You will have to tell me all about it later."

"It's a long story."

"I like long stories, Mr. James."

"How's the situation on evac?"

"Three flights have left and are bringing Elites aboard Bronze Age. We will be engaging a safe distance before the infected ships are targeted."

"Did the Shipmaster make it?"

There was a delay in the comms. "Confirmed."

"Can you take a message for me if you see him?"

"I am quite sufficient at multitasking."

"Can you tell him that he's an asshole?"

"Word for word, and I quote, "he's an asshole."

"Great, thanks."

Heller cut the line, drifting quietly in the vaccuum, trying to think about what came next rather than counting the agonizing minutes that his oxygen depleted. After what felt like an eternity, his motion tracker pinged movement, and he felt himself pulled upwards on invisible strings.

A cramped troop bay of a Phantom filled to the brim with Elites and Grunts greeted him before the cockpit doors slid open to reveal the unmistakable form of T'soona, even under the severely battered black armor that was spattered almost completely with blood and grime. His visor went transparent as he nodded.

"Ma'am. Did you find what you were looking for?"

The Elites and Grunts within the bay were also haggard and worn, but nowhere near the extent of T'soona. They all gave her a wide birth, but all held their heads and posture with a manner of respect to her. Word had spread quickly about what she had done. She managed a curt but graceful nod.

"I found what matters the most to me."

He couldn't see her eyes through her lenses, but he understood what she was saying, even if their exchanges appeared somewhat icy to all aboard. He nodded.

"Good. I guess we'll rendevouz with Bronze Age?"

"Under restrictions." T'soona swept her head to all aboard. "We will be allowed sanctum on board our ally's ship, but we must be quarantined and cleansed. If there is even one particle or spore of the Parasite on or within us, we risk spreading the plague."

An Elite stepped forward amongst those gathered. "We do not have time for quarantine measures while the battle still wages!"

T'soona stood her ground. "It was requested by your Shipmaster. I follow his expertise in these matters. Are we all agreed?"

Heller smiled under his helmet very briefly, stepping forward solemnly. "I saw this..thing turn one of your men into one of them within the span of a minute. If it can do that...."

The others within the Phantom began to talk amongst themselves, most nodding in agreement to what they had seen in their own encounters. The soldier who protested nodded silently, stepping back to where he previously stood.

With no objections, all aboard began the long wait as T'soona piloted the Phantom on a route to Bronze Age. Heller picked a corner of his own, sliding down to sit with the other belleagured soldiers.

---

He roused in brief moments of movement and commotion within the Phantom when it had docked with Bronze Age. Quarantine measures had to be established first, and once setup, the process was slow, only able to admit two or three at a time. Heller remained in the back corner of the alien craft, T'soona on the opposite side. Over the next eight hours, crew filtered out into the lift in small batches until finally, they were alone.

Heller broke the silence first. "They know I'm aboard. They'll expect a briefing from me. Probably assign me to where they need me."

T'soona nodded from her corner. "I understand. But their authority does not extend to me. I go where you go, Heller."

He chuckled, having waited for this to arrive. "Really? I trusted you before and look where it got me."

She only nodded in agreement. "Heller. They almost had me."

"Maybe they wouldn't have if you'd had backup."

Her head hung low. "You would need to see what it was like to understand. I know that I betrayed you." She shook her head. "It spoke to me....Heller. I thought it had you..."

He sighed. "It almost did. I got fucking saved. Dumb luck. When you said it was a parasite, I thought it was just some...disease. He gestured to the dried blood and filth coating his armor. "But this..."

"Was the tip of it. I walked into its heart."

He sighed. "Okay, I get it. Would've died if I'd come with. You should've told me."

She bowed her head. "Yes. You would have tried to follow me, would have tried to stop me. I just..needed to see it through."

"Oro told me about things. About that Ring out there. I still don't know if I believe it."

"Heller. My kind have butchered billions of yours....for a lie..."

He bit his lip, nodding. "Yeah, and mine have killed hundreds of thousands of yours defending ourselves. My people also killed each other in the past over lies of who got what paradise after we died. Guess we're all sons'a bitches now."

T'soona crossed her arms with a wince. "I wish them dead, Heller. All of them."

It took a moment, but he nodded once he realized who. "One step at a time here. We've got bigger problems right now."

He pushed himself up to his feet slowly, walking over to her to hold out his hand. "Don't think I can't see what you're hiding under the armor."

The comms channel buzzed in the cockpit of the Phantom as Yang's voice echoed through the nearly empty craft in audible Sangheilian enough that Heller's translator kicked in. "The next group may proceed. Follow the guidlines to the proper facilities, remove your armor, and enter into the decontamination chamber."

T'soona took his hand and stood with effort. One after the other they descended the lift into the makshift quarantine zone. Some kind of quick construction and repair scaffolding must have supported what had been erected around the Phantom. They were encased in what appeared to be thick white plastic sections, sealed off from the rest of the ship.

A rolling plinth had been set in the bay, dozens of cables trailing from it. What must have been Yang materialized at the plinth, a plainly dressed oriental woman. She smiled at Heller.

"You must be our deceased Corpral, mister James. Welcome back to the land of the living, or what precariously counts as it." With that she scanned the sterile environment before laying her eyes on T'soona with a head tilt to speak fluent Sangheilian. "And you...are fascinating! The others call you an "Exemplar."

Heller stepped forwards. "Ma'am. It's been a long day. My friend here will need a medical examination."

Yang crossed her arms with a curtsy. "My manners. Please proceed ahead. Room one is for your gear, room two is for..ahem. It will take some time. And a word of caution. We improvised it with the help of Sangheili. The last part of the process may..sting."

T'soona spoke for the first time, addressing Yang. "A firewall?"

She nodded, gesturing to the way ahead. "In your terminology, yes. Aptly named, I may add."

Heller looked up to T'soona. "Not going to like this am I?"

Yang nodded. "It's better if we skip details."

"Fine. You ready to go?"

T'soona echoed the curtsy to Yang. "Yes, let us be done with this."

Months out in space and in Covenant environments, this world suddenly felt alien to Heller, but familiar enough that he led T'soon through narrow tunnels and an easy to follow path that led to two rooms. Inside one room on the left he could see sets of large clear boxes hooked up to multitudes of cables, and in the second room, padding and nozzles on every surface but the floor.

His helmet came off first before he began unlatching and unbuckling his gear. He looked at the Jackal's gauntlet as he tossed it into one of the opened containers, muttering. "I keep getting the best toys and having them taken away." He looked over to T'soona.

Helmet gone, he could spot discolouration of bruises across her head and dried blood on her mandibles. She was moving much slower than he was. He pushed close, taking her wrists for a moment as he smiled.

"Don't gotta play tough anymore. Come on."

Before anything else could happen she pushed closer to him, mandibles overtaking his lips as she closed her eyes. She parted with baited breath.

"I am sorry, Heller."

He started unlatching her upper curiass, shaking his head. "Ma'am, even when I was pissed, I knew I couldn't hate you."

Armor clattered to the floor as he worked, the outline of her wiry body becoming more visible in the tight undersuit. It wasn't long before her nipples hardened and pressed painfully into her suit. She winced on occassion, but her hands found the sides of his head as she pressed her forehead to his.

"There is internal damage."

Bits of his remaining armor fell away as well. "That's what I call progress for a woman who hates doctors. We'll fix it, I promise."

She shook her head, breath heated. "Not what I meant." Her mandibles caught him in a deeper kiss this time, ended with the subtlest of moans as her body pressed against his, enticing a painful erection under his suit. It was instincitve as his hands held her hips and pulled her tight momentarily.

"I'll be gentle. I'm sure this is monitored...fuck it."

He kissed her back, undoing the clasps on her undersuit ro reveal her breasts. They both worked frantically, until at last everything slipped free and into the containers as they sealed shut. The doors to the decontamination chamber had barely sealed before they began.

T'soona laid on her back to wrap her legs around his waist. Hands held together tightly, there was no words exchanged as she urged him on. He slipped into her tight cunt folds and began to rock his hips slowly so as not to strain what may have been an injury anywhere in her.

Her limber muscled arms tensed and wrapped around his back, pulling him tight to her breasts and taught nipples. Even as the sprayers in the chamber started, splashing cold but quickly warming fluids across every surface, they continued their slow embrace.

Her head snaked against the side of his and her mandibles parted and quivered as she spoke between gasps and moans.

"The firewall....burns one layer of skin cells off..."

Heller hilted deep into her sweltering insides as they gripped demandingly, slowing his pace for a moment. "Told you...we're in this together..."

Both their bodies shivered lightly in the sterile cool environment even though a warmer mist began to permeate the chamber and their skin grew reflective from the spray and the coating of sweat. He kissed her neck as he began to rock his hips again, watching her lay her graceful head to the floor with closed eyes and parted mandibles that rocked to the same rythem as her breasts bounced and rippled.

His breath grew heavy as he picked up the pace, just a bit. Her arms outstretched, bringing his entwined hands along with hers. Heller heard something mechanical clink and whir through the walls. On one end of the chamber, a blue energy wall ignited, crackling on contact with the air.

"Ah fuuuck me."

One of her hands snaked away from his, holding the back of his head. Her green eye focused on him.

"Don't look. Just....keep going..."

Her mandibles overtook his lips and wouldn't let him go. There was some kind of tongue lower in her throat, slipping past his lips to play with his as she held him tight as the wall of energy began to move towards them.

He unloaded into her tightening cunt in hot spasms as she exhaled in sharp breaths and moans as her back arched and her muscled legs tensed and urged him for more. The wall hit them as it moved. T'soona parted the kiss and held his head close, wrapping her arms around him tight as she spoke into his ear.

"Close your eyes..."

Heller kept his teeth clenched together as the wall passed over them both. He forced what would be a scream through his nostrils as searing heat hit him from what felt like everywhere, and inside him. T'soona's cry of pain was laced with pleasure, short and immensely fragile.

Their muscles tensed and braced, but they held tight to one another. Heller shook overtop of her as the wall scallded and continued onwards. He smelled something burning, but couldn't tell what. Her toned body pressed hard to him, locked into posistion until finally, the wall passed them buy in full, clearing the room of whatever may have been a risk.

Heller laid overtop of her for a long while, catching his breath along with T'soona. It was a calm silence interrupted by Yang's voice coming from an unknown source.

"You are most fortunate that I can seamlessly edit the camera feeds, Corpral. I don't believe the technicians designed their chamber with this in mind."

Heller panted, shaking his head. "Put it on my record if you want, Yang. No point hiding it when you knew the moment I stepped off that tub."

Her voice practically conveyed a sly shrug. "I'm a good read of body language. The heart beats at a certain speed in the presence of....lovers."

T'soona's eye traveled around the room, narrowing sharply. "What will be done with him?"

"Nothing. Except I wish to ask questions for the purpose of study when there is time. All of this is quite exciting for the purpose of knowledge. Your Corpral will be interviewed for his story of how he went from a starship killed in action all the way to here. We have requested to the Shipmaster that you be interviewed as well."

T'soona grew more alert now. "But what will actually happen to Heller?'

Yang chuckled. "It's not on record yet. But due to the pressing nature of our situation, we are finding that mixed fireteams of Sangheili and Humans proving to be effective in dealing with our shortage of numbers in this situation. After a lot of beuracracy, I believe your Corpral will emerge in good standing."

Heller let out a long relieved sigh, resting his head on T'soona's chest. "I didn't miss the red tape. Yang, I owe you."

Yang's laugh was tinged with a note of playfulness. "No need Corpral. Do you know how many "encounters" I find on a ship as large as Bronze Age? Let's not play dumb here. You organics can't keep your hands off each other. Now then. Your gear has been cleansed as well. I reccommend that you two prepare. There is an emergency meeting involving all hands and guests in one hour."

T'soona stroked a hand through Heller's hair absently. "What has happened?"

"Your space station, High Charity? It has..gone missing."

Heller and T'soona both moved together. ""What??""

"It appears that the wave of infected ships launched from the station and the Ring were a diversion."

T'soona pushed to her feet with a whince. "That is not possible. It should not have had enough power to move without The Dreadnaught powering it."

Heller remained sitting on the floor. Something in his gut was turning coldly. "Yang. Where did it go?"

"I am sorry, Corpral. Earth."

T'soona began coughing, falling to one knee as purple blood spattered on the floor. Heller was up in an instant, helping her back up to her feet.

"Medbay first."

"I can run all the equipment needed, prepping a bed now, Corpral. Does she need assistance to get there?"

T'soona shook her head, mandibles clenched. "I will be fine, construct."

---

The smaller utilitarian halls of Bronze Age filled Heller with a strange sense of nostalgia. The familiar sections of the med-bay and its automated equipment like a dim photograph taken long ago. It was made surreal by the fact that T'soona was laying on an adjustable bed after the scans had been taken. He sat beside it absently on the deck plating.

While not accutely severe, T'soona had suffered several cracked and broken ribs and internal bleeding. Elite biology didn't differ much from Human's. Yang quickly synthesized formulas that could help ease pain and speed the recovery process.

The meeting held between Captain Belhai, Shipmaster Oro, and all other ship captains and masters present was broadcast across every available screen within the ship. High Charity had somehow managed a Slipspace jump with coordinates leading to Earth.

There were already Elite fleets present with Earth's home fleet, but it was likely that what was amassed couldn't hold off an invasion of that scale. There was no communication back from Earth on the present situation. A decision had to be made soon.

The Flood was still rampantly present across the Ring, but retreating deep into the structure as Sentinel resistance had regained control. Most infected ships had been disabled and in were in the process of being targeted with overwhelming firepower.

The joint conference between Captains and Shipmasters decided that a small contingent of ships would remain here, while the rest would follow in pursuit of High Charity. It may have been a solemn task. They could be arriving at Humanity's homeworld lost entirely to the parasite, assuming that Truth's forces had not already decimated it.

The decision was made that if that were the case, it was the duty of this joint fleet to purge Earth completely in order to stop the infection from having any chance of spreading further into the galaxy. Within the hour, it had been decided who would stay and who would go. Bronze Age was returning to Earth, considering that it had the firepower to level a country into craters.

Heller had changed his mind quietly. Things had changed, now. There had been a difference between losing to the Covenant, and losing to this....thing called The Flood. It was no longer time to run. His knife stencelled the outline of a letter B on the inside of his chest piece as it sat in his lap.

T'soona watched him quietly from the bed as the letter O was stencelled into the armour peice. Then L, followed by F. The underside of his chest piece bore many names. She spoke quietly.

"Her name was Joori. She was named after the brightest star of my homeworld."

His eyes found hers, and he nodded, silent at first, understanding. Heller began stencilling the name onto his chest piece. "She didn't die for nothing, T'soona. She made you who you are."

"I met one survivor in the entire city. His name was Den. What if your entire world is consumed, Heller?"

He stared down at the first name newly stencelled into the metal. B O L F.

"We do what the right thing to do is. Honor their memory by doing better, fighting harder. Together."

The two turned their attention to movement as two figures entered the med-bay. Shipmaster Oro strode alongside Captain Belhai, who extended his hand in welcome, both to Heller and T'soona.

---