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"Sucker-Punch three-five is entering the theatre now. Package on board, twelve clicks to LZ, over."

A Halo fanfiction in keeping with its own continuity

"Immediate, grid kilo-two-three is choppy. Recommend secondary LZ, over."

Written by SniperSpartan-977

"Roger that, tower. It's your call, ell-tee, over!"

Dedicated to 'you know who you are.' We have gone our separate ways and nothing is as it was, but I am confident one day life will carry you our way again

"... secondary LZ it is. Watch those cross-winds, bro. I need that asset on the ground in one piece. Get tactical, Sucker-Punch."

01) And the pale horse you rode in on...

"You hear that back there? Time to ride the dragon!"

He was hardly paying attention to the radio chatter hissing in his ear. In the back of his mind though, he really didn't want to know what 'riding the dragon' meant.

Gunfire filled the air, echoing across the cold, snow brushed countryside before each successive burst fired in a steady rhythm faded away over the jagged mountains. The wind that carried the sound of each burst that was often drowned out by a rumbling explosion, or the soft 'twoomph' of energy weapons brushing the tops of the evergreen trees that grew in sparse clusters all over these mountains and valleys. Even on board the noisy falcon, the boy could hear the rage of battle miles away, and he had to wonder if that guy firing those steady bursts was going to run out of ammo soon.

James Trent sat back, his dazed red eyes gazing out the side of the aircraft. The male human was young. Impossibly young for a soldier... then again; he didn't look much like a soldier and more like a kid trying on his dad's uniform. His combat dress was coloured in a green and brown camouflage pattern, with hardened plastic on his elbows and knees, but the clothing was about three sizes too big for him. The only things that seemed to fit him were the brown hiking style boots on his feet and his body-armour.

Across his torso he wore an armoured olive green tac-vest with three double-magazine pouches mounted on the abdomen, and other pockets for equipment and tools attached to the sides and back of the waistline. Locked in the sheath on his right leg was a tanto-tipped knife, since reserve privates weren't worth enough to even get a side-arm. His cropped dark hair and the sides of his face was covered in a standard tactical helmet, and he had an olive green scarf wrapped around the bottom half of his face. The only part of his face revealed was the pale region around his unique dark red eyes and his bushy black eyebrows.

James took a breath, white fog filtered through his scarf as he exhaled, glistening white moisture clinging to the fleece.

The only thing officially identifying him was the name tape pinned to his chest, silver text spelling out 'Kid' on a green background. It was his call-sign, short, blatant, un-poetic and simple. Regardless, it seemed suitable.

The UH-144 falcon troop transport weaved queasily over a mountaintop, brushing the top of a lone pine that grew at the very top of the cold grey monolith towering over a partially frozen lake in the next valley. The pilot tilted the VTOL right, and with both hands clutching the harness anchoring him to his seat, James found himself staring wide eyed 600 feet down at the ground covered in jagged grey rocks, dusted with patches of soft white snow. With a long buzzing noise the dual pivoting prop-engines made, the vehicle levelled out and followed the weaving valley, swooping dangerously low between the sheer cliff walls that towered on the left and right.

James recognised the falcon from when his folks had brought him to the UNSC air shows back home on Earth. The wide and long troop bay, the cockpit seating the pilot, flank mounted machine guns on the open sides. The design was sound... sound enough. The only problem James saw with it was the fact this vehicle was not designed for individuals with the fairly common fear of heights.

He'd never been on one though, not even in training.

The man sitting opposite James, between the two machine-gun turrets wasn't exactly what the human would consider a man, regardless of gender. He was a monster.

It was common for a soldier to regard his NCO as a monster. After all, the NCO was the hard-ass that drove the soldier to give it his all, and then give even more. Staff Sergeant Zim was no exception to that rule.

Built like a cave-man, Zim didn't have arms. He had god-damn trees that were supposed to be arms growing out of his torso, which was made out of solid concrete blocks. The man had a square jaw to match his burly physique, an over-hanging brow and a high and tight cropped 'jarhead' hair-style. His elevated cheek-bones were the only things separating him from his stone bashing troglodyte ancestors.

"Do you know why you were selected for this assignment, kid?" Staff Sergeant Zim bellowed, his volume drowning out the falcon's engines and the howling wind with ease.

Still silent, though entirely because of nerves rather than coolness, James shook his head and shrugged. He pumped his bare hands to get the blood flowing through the frozen extremities. The bitter wind that whipped into the troop bay from both sides was merciless and grew more agonising as the falcon picked up more speed. Even beneath two layers of woollen socks and the insulated boots on his feet, James' toes were still frozen solid.

The pain seemed to go on, like a roller coaster you wanted to get off, but the ride had only just started. The troop carrier started making sharp turns at full speed, causing James' heart to beat in his throat and his stomach to turn upside down. He gripped the harness holding him down tighter, his head bobbing from side to side with each bank and turn. Just like the times he'd ridden roller coasters at home on Earth, he wasn't enjoying the ride on this VTOL either.

"Ten seconds!" the pilot cried over the tiny intercom speaker above James' head.

And then they were there. But James wasn't sure what was worse, the ride he'd been through or the hell that was yet to come.

"You have been selected for your aptitude and competence!" Zim barked as the falcon's skids settled into the frozen dirt. "Ten clicks north from here is a communications array. This entire area has recently been blanketed in a canopy of interference, cutting off communications with the UNSC Damocles. Intel suggests that array is projecting the interference. The entire area is treacherous with crosswinds, we can't fly you in, so you hike from here. First objective is to power down that array and re-establish contact with the control room. You have ten hours to re-establish comms before delta-two-zero."

"What's delta-two-zero?" James asked, speaking for the first time since he had been manhandled by three burly soldiers, who had quite un-lovingly helped him gear up in a rush.

"A low altitude bombing run capable of glassing this entire area!" Zim explained. "We want active comms with Damocles by any means necessary."

'Any means.' Yeah, no kidding.

James wasn't surprised when his heart tried to burst out of his chest. His hands shook so badly he almost couldn't undo his harness. Eventually he managed though, and leapt from the side of the f_alcon_, landing in a light stumble. The troop carrier's engines picked up and the vehicle left the ground again, nose raising a little to put it into a slight reverse bank.

"Here!" Zim barked, grabbing hold of something and threw it over-board. "Take care, kid!"

A matte black rifle landed heavily in his arms, the impact winding the boy as he staggered back a step. James almost sadly looked up at the silhouette of the falcon against the grim sky. He felt like a puppy begging his owners not to leave him all alone in the scary forest.

Zim didn't look back. The pilot didn't stick around. In seconds they shot off and disappeared around the nearest mountain peak and into the hazy horizon. The horizon was what he really couldn't get over. Whereas normally a horizon would follow a certain curve and disappear over that faint line marking the end of your fore-sight, this horizon... it went up.

The edges of the world were clearly visible, and the thousand mile wide band of land, sea and cloud stretched up over the mountains, fading into a blue haze above. That's what you got when you build a planet in a ring shape. One crazy-ass horizon.

So there he stood on an alien ring-world. James Trent. Eighteen years old. A carbine cradled across his chest. And the success of the mission resting heavily on his scrawny shoulders.

---***---

Halo Chronicles

The Oh-So-Eventful Life, and Greatly Exaggerated Death of James Trent

---***---

_ _

02) Kicking ass in outer space... wish you were here.

James had no choice but hoof it, following the heading on his PDA's digital compass that pointed him north, cutting a swathe straight through alien territory. There was no going back, even if there was the boy didn't know the way. And it wasn't as if he had a long list of tantalising choices anyway.

March to his objective and get this done... or sit around wasting time until delta-two-zero... and die. To die or not to die? That wasn't exactly a hard question.

'Put your head down and get it done!' The wise words were drilled into his very soul. Even now he could hear the old NCO's voice shouting the phrase at him.

With his M5J carbine hanging from the magnetic hard-point on the back of his armour, James walked, his boots crunching on the frost encrusted grass and frozen earth. Trees were dotted all around, shading him from the bitter wind that howled over the mountain ranges. Every now and then he'd still hear sounds of distant fighting wafting over the range. It seemed as if he was wandering into the thick of it. Or in the general direction anyway.

James had four clicks to hike. Four kilometres would take a couple of hours at his lazy pace. Then considering the communications array was in reasonable shape, an hour or two to get a message out to the UNSC.

But he'd cross that bridge when he came to it. And speaking of bridges...

Pressing his hands against the cold, damp bark, the human mantled onto a fallen log. The tree had once been a grand monolith standing defiant by the edge of the river, roots clung to rock and probed deep into earth. But now it formed a bridge over the deep gash cut into the stone. The river had eroded over thousands of years, and finally the ground had partially given way, forcing the tree to yield to the river.

Good for James though, because now he had a bridge.

Snow scattered and drizzled into the icy, churning waterfall following the winding gash below as James hopped across the creaking log. He didn't want to balance there for longer than he had to, just in case it wouldn't take his weight. Fighting through the tangle of branches at the end of the makeshift bridge, the boy reached solid ground again and moved on, following the slope of the mountain upward now. He was still headed north, slowly climbing out of the bowl he'd been dropped in. Coincidental, really.

It was almost like he'd quite literally been dropped in the frying pan. He hoped that over the next ridge he wouldn't find walls of flame.

All the time, during his hike he heard the low wail of the wind tearing over the mountains and rushing through the trees... it was demonic. Reaching over his shoulder, James patted the butt of his carbine, taking comfort in the knowledge he was armed.

"What should we do with the drunken sergeant?" James mumbled to himself. "What should we do with the drunken sergeant? What should we do with the drunken sergeant? Shave his stupid moustache." A song they used to sing in the billets time immemorial, designed to slag the NCOs at boot camp and keep spirits high... and the good memories past - like the presence of his M5J - comforted him as he trudged onward, alone and vulnerable with nothing but his own wits to watch his back.

"Hey-oh, stare 'em down lads. Hey-oh, stare 'em down lads. Hey-oh, stare 'em down lads, blame it on the corporal." There was actually a funny story to go with that bit of the song, 'blame it on the corporal...'

James should have known better to let comfort put him at ease.

Energy lashed downward from the sky and slammed into the dirt a few precarious feet beside where James stomped to a halt. Blue-green flames swirled for a moment, hissing at the frost and burning up a patch of grass, leaving a small crater of glass as the fire evaporated.

"That's not the wind."

'Smartass.' James thought as his mouth moved faster than the rest of his body. As the realisation came over him that a plasma bolt had slammed into the hill beside him, he whirled around.

There she hung in the sky, not too far away. A small purple coloured craft with a sleek, back-swept fuselage and a set of stubby, downward pointed stabilisers. The Covenant interceptor fighter, named the banshee because of the tell-tale howl it made when making an attack-dive, was fast, manoeuvrable and could deliver devastating ordinance quickly with deadly accuracy.

Her first attack dive masked by the wind, the banshee darted sideways to correct her aim and James saw the plasma weapons under the rounded nose of the vehicle flicker blue light. The boy had little to no time to react. He threw himself around one-hundred-and-eighty degrees and sprinted uphill, hoping he was quick enough.

As the human's boots pounded into the ground, so did the flurry of plasma fired from the banshee, the energy bolts thudding into the earth at James' heels. He felt the heat of every miniature explosion on the back of his legs. Any closer and he'd be toast... quite literally. If those bolts hit him he would literally be turned into a piece of overly carbonated toast.

A loud 'twoomph' echoed out over the valleys, and James knew what came next. The human darted to his left and threw himself behind the nearest tree he could find. Suspended in the air halfway between where he'd jumped and his chosen piece of cover, the plasma missile fired from the banshee exploded. Static caused every hair on James' body to stand upright as the shockwave of the blast ripped outward, tossing the boy head over heels into a clump of brambles.

"Agh, sunova-bitch!" the human cried out, slowly untangling the sharp branches and tearing himself free from the thorns that clung to his fatigues. Scratches and splinters burned all along his legs and arms, and a few pinpricks of vibrant red were visible across his hands and fingers. One particularly deep gash on the edge of his right hand trickled a little blood down along the edge of his pinkie.

Shaking off the uncomfortable ache left on his skin thanks to his 'thorny' landing, James looked up, seeing the shadow of the banshee flash overhead. Next came the whine of the fighter's engines as she nosed upwards, starting a climb before the next attack-dive. The craft rose higher and higher, and at the top of the climb, the engines seemed to dim. The fighter whirled around on the spot and started a nose-first dive again.

James couldn't keep this cat-and-mouse game up forever. He had to take this thing down or die trying. Reaching back, the boy snatched loose his M5J and shouldered the rifle.

In one practiced motion, James cycled the action with a satisfying 'clack' chambering the first round from the 30-round magazine and causing the dust cover on the side to flip open. Sweat filled the boy's helmet as he raised the muzzle of the rifle to the incoming banshee, peering through the iron-sights in the carry handle. His aim wavered from left to right as his heart beat heavily against his ribcage. The plasma guns on the fighter flared as they crept into each other's range. James's thumb pushed the fire selector through semi-automatic and right around to fully-automatic while his finger curled around the trigger...

Then the banshee did something very unexpected. It weaved. The vehicle angled and pitched sideways as a dark silhouette slammed into the side of the fuselage. The object was small in comparison to the Covenant fighter. It latched onto the interceptor and the impact caused the whole craft to dip and dive dangerously close to the ground. The banshee fought a futile fight for control as the figure leapt clear of the fighter, disappearing again.

The Covenant interceptor was lost. The rounded nose rose, but it was way too late. The craft slammed into a tree.

The wooden monolith cracked and splintered like a massive toothpick as the main body of the banshee wrapped itself around the trunk. One of the stubby wings tore free and cartwheeled into the next tree. Purple and blue plasma fire consumed the canopy lighting up the side of the mountain with a vibrant inferno that clawed at the grim sky.

"Holy-shit!" James yelled, recoiling as he felt the heat of the explosion through his scarf. His eyes were wide with surprise, the brightness of fire burning multi-coloured spots into his eyes. He blinked them away, raising his rifle again and sweeping left to right like a stocky toy-soldier. Whatever had taken down that banshee was still out here.

And then he heard a voice over the crackling fire. "Hey, dumbass. Over here."

James cried out with fright and whirled around, his gun pointed directly at a dark clad figure walking through the tall grass a little downhill. The grass was up to the figure's shoulders, hiding it nearly completely from view.

She moved clear of the grass, revealing herself completely. She was a humanoid, but not exactly human. James's saviour was an anthropomorphic panthress, midnight-black fur and a pair of large, dark yellow eyes. Her short black hair was tied back in a tight bun and covered by a black baseball cap. She was about an inch or two taller than James was and had a slender frame attenuated by the well fitted fatigues and body armour tailored to fit her. She was clad in black camouflage trousers and shirt not unlike James's, with a black-as-her-fur armoured tac-vest made to hug her slim waist and the curvature of her bust. Stuck to her abdomen were a pair of rifle-mag pouches, and around her waist were a number of anchor points and pouches. Fixed to a magnetic holster on her right thigh was an M7S submachine gun, and above that on her right hip was an M6C pistol. There were two daggers, short and thin blades attached vertically to her chest with the handles pointed upward.

She moved with ninja grace, light on her feet and had an alluring sway in the way she walked over, eying the human over. As she approached, she casually raised her hands above her head. "We're on the same side..." her yellow eyes fell upon James's nametag. "Kid?"

Frowning, James looked down and realised he was still pointing his weapon at her. "Oh, sorry." The human lowered the rifle and quickly pushed the fire selector back into safe. "Jeez," he suddenly added nodding to the crashed banshee. "You killed that banshee by kicking it."

"Yeah, I didn't want to waste the bullets. Command told me someone would be out here." The panthress continued on to say, moving past James and marching uphill in the direction the human had originally been moving. "I didn't expect to come across a brat."

"Brat? Hey, I'm a UNSC soldier!" James barked in an offended tone, jogging to keep up with the anthro's pace. "Who the hell are you anyway?"

She stopped in her tracks and rounded on James, curiously eying him over again. Her eyes took in the UNSC markings on James's shoulder and she seemed satisfied it was safe to at least give the boy a name. "Naval Special Warfare, 12th Division Shock Troops, Lieutenant Sera Irrasi."

"ODST?" James asked with a little surprise, his tone changing very suddenly. "You're with ODST!"

"I think we've assessed that. You?" the lieutenant suddenly asked.

"Eh..." James didn't really want to introduce himself anymore. After finding out she was from the orbital drop shock troop crowd, James's own title felt a little inadequate. Out-masculinised by a chick! "UNSC Army Reserves, 21st Battalion... Private Third Class James Trent."

"Hmm." As James feared, Lieutenant Irrasi sounded unimpressed.

But they were from entirely different military worlds. They may as well have been from separate nations. The ODST were a UNSC branch, sure, but they were volunteers and operated separate from navy, marines and army. That meant while they still served under the same flag, James was lucky enough not to have to salute her... unless she made him to.

"Specialisation, soldier boy?" Sera suddenly asked, smirking now that she knew she outranked, and very much out-gunned this kid.

"Engineer." James replied shortly.

That made the panthress laugh. "A nerd. Figures. I guess you're here to sort out the communications problem. Well, that was the fourth enemy contact I've had to take down in the past two hours. It looks like there are way more Covenant crawling over this Halo ring than we thought." Sera turned again and marched uphill. "I think I'd better stick around. Wouldn't want you to get killed before you fix the problem." It should have sounded like she actually cared. So why did she sound so cold?

Stationary, James watched her go for a moment, then sighed and locked his M5J across his back again, hearing the weapon click home in the magnetic holster. Condescending help was still help.

And help would be very much appreciated.

---***---

_ _

03) Control Room. Tools, boutique... galactic doomsday weapons.

A sigh of chilling wind brushed over her as she sighed herself. Not a sigh of frustration, or a sigh of fatigue. But a long, slow sigh. One of those dreamy sighs you'd usually hear from a teenage girl gazing into the picture of their high-school crush.

The comparison held weight for Kali Klepto, even though she wasn't gazing at her dream-sweetheart. The Sangheili girl was in fact sitting on the railing of a balcony, the ground a dizzying hundred feet below, her eyes gazing out at the snow that covered the hidden valley.

The Halo ring's control room was concealed under a mountain. The entrance, a pyramid shaped structure was concealed in a bowl-shaped valley, the cold grey rock stretching all around dusted with layers of white powder. The pyramid was divided into tiers, each level of the stone grey structure home to a walkway that wound and ramped upward to the flat top where the main bulkhead was located. Inside was a maze of walkways, rooms and corridors, all built by a long dead race known as the 'forerunners.' The same culture hat built this Halo ring on the edge of the Centauri System. One of seven known rings in the galaxy.

The bowl-valley was accessible from only two angles. The sky, which lay open and cloudy above. And then there was the narrow pass. At the foot of the pyramid was a deep, bottomless gorge that fell into darkness. Stretched over that was a bridge, connecting the high gate at the foot of the pyramid with a narrow gorge that formed the official 'entrance' to the valley. The bridge was wide enough to park two Scorpion tanks side by side, and was dotted with transparent panels revealing the main power conduit underneath.

From her studies, Kali had learned the bridge housed a wide conduit through which the control room drew all its power from the Halo ring's main power supply. Exactly what it did with all that power was no secret to the Sangheili girl either... though she secretly wished it were.

She was seated on a balcony somewhere above the main entrance leading into the heart of the mountain the pyramid was built against. It was like a small watch-tower built into the face of the mountain, walled off by a low guard-rail on which she sat with a full view over the entire bowl-valley. Behind her was a single sliding door that led to a tunnel, in turn leading down to the rest of the complex.

Kali remembered the snow from the colony village where she was born. But the first time she saw never ending sheets of the stuff was in the North American Protectorate, Earth. 'Alaska' her adopted father had called the country. She hadn't seen much outside the military base hidden away in the mountains, but she had seen the best of it. Cold, frozen water. Whole icy deserts of the stuff. Such a simple concept really. But so entrancing at the same time.

Two years of training and tutoring by the UNSC had passed quickly. And Kali had matured just as quickly. Her mind had bloomed, educated by the best scientists humanity had to offer her mind was like a sponge, eager to soak up more. And while her mind blossomed learning English, French and German, studying her field in Xeno-Anthropology, her body too blossomed into a beautiful young Sangheili.

Equivalent to a human nineteen year old, she was a little taller than the average human male of her age-range and built slim, with a short purple plume that curled inward slightly at her shoulders, light pink eyes and a shade of soft blue skin. She had a respectable bosom; trim, athletic features thanks to some of her instructors dragging her out of bed at all hours to run laps with the army-recruits. Her father, Akghu Klepto had ensured she was able to take care of herself in any situation. She'd been trained to defend herself, fire rifles, but still she preferred brains over brawn.

Kali had taken to human attire quite nicely. Her figure was hugged by a white and grey, tailor fitted parka, the fuzzy hood gathered at her collar. On her hands were a pair of leather gloves with fleece inside, and her long slender digitigrade-legs were clad in a set of fitted white cargo-trousers. The Sangheili split-toed boots, also custom made had the ends of her trousers tucked into them and were buckled across the shins.

What she wore underneath for only the intimate of eyes to see... well, that kind of attire would make any father turn white... or make any boy her age start to drool.

There was a thin black wire hanging around her neck, disappearing into a sleeve pocket of her parka. The wire divided, and each division ran up to an ear-bud disappearing under the silky layers of her plume hanging over the sides of her face. Watching and listening, she sang softly along with the beats pumped into her ear-drums.

As she grew and learned, she realised her body had... urges. Some urges were for food, others for water. But there were certain urges. Urges that she couldn't explain. Urges no consumable could dull. For those, she had found as she grew up, losing herself in music tended to help.

"Girl I gotta go, I'm finished with the show, if 'ya wanna fuck me, I won't say no. T-t-t-touchin' on my... while I'm touchin' on your... you know that we are gonna... 'cuz I don't give a..."

Hardly paying attention, she wouldn't have noticed someone say something, walking up behind her if the song hadn't suddenly gone quiet at the end of the first verse. "Does your dad know you listen to that dribble?"

Yanking at the wire of her earphones, she pulled the ear-pods out and turned her head to look at the armoured human lean over the railing beside her. The charcoal armour on his elbows let out a light thud as he leaned forward looking at the snow far below.

Lieutenant Elliot Foster was pretty teenish for an officer. He was built quite slim but sturdy, had high and tight cropped black hair with brown eyes. His body was clad in black ODST armour, bulwarking everything from the neck down, his helmet hanging from his belt beside his side-arm. Locked across his back was a long barrelled battle rifle, the BR55HB variant battle rifle Kali recognised from the ranges back in Alaska.

Elliot hadn't been around for long. But when he did show up three weeks ago, prior to their current mission, she took an immediate liking to him. He was... what was that human word? 'Handsome' she believed the term was the human females used to describe Elliot Foster.

Smiling at the sight of the lieutenant, Kali merely shrugged. "He's not here, is he?" She said smartly before leaning closer to the ODST. "But you are." She added suggestively. Then, as if the tone she was using wasn't suggestive enough, she added: "What are you gonna do, ell-tee? Spank me?"

"Sheesh, girl." Elliot laughed. "You just love talking like humans, don'cha?"

"And who says the speech pattern is all I like about humans?" Kali added, narrowing her eyes seductively. Kali wasn't one to beat about the bush. If she was going to say or do something, she just did.

Elliot shook his head. He knew damn well it was all teasing. All because of what a few of the human girls Kali hung around had said about him. He knew that Kali knew he wasn't interested. She knew he was 'previously engaged.' Still, she loved to tease.

Holding out a PDA, the lieutenant explained what brought him out into the cold.

"Sucker Punch just dropped off the package and made it back." Elliot said. "Thought you might be interested in who we sent to sort out the communications problem."

"Sweet." Kali hissed with enthusiasm before her expression went suddenly very serious. "You didn't send Owens did you? That guy knows Jack and shit about forerunner technology. We only took him along because he knows how to debug our own software."

Elliot clipped the Sangheili girl in the side of the head. "Hey, watch that mouth, sister. Akghu will kill me if you get back to Earth in the habit of swearing like a trooper." He then pointed to the PDA as he straightened up and turned to leave. "Have a good look. You'll have to debrief him when he gets back."

Kali swung her legs over the railing and landed beside the lieutenant. Together they passed through the balcony door, shutting the cold out behind them.

Inside the control room facility was warm. Much like the Halo's systems simulated the weather patterns, the interior areas of the construct maintained a pleasant, average climate. As they walked, Kali opened the zipper of her parka, revealing the light blue sleeveless polo-neck she wore underneath. Through the reasonably thin cloth, the outline of the Sangheili's bra was painfully evident. So evident that when she pulled down the zip, Elliot quickly averted his eyes.

Luckily he did so with discretion, or Kali may have had something to say. She was too engrossed in the PDA she was reading off. So engrossed, she didn't notice a few technicians walk past with wide smirks on their faces.

Kali may have been an alien, but that didn't mean she didn't have attractive features.

On the PDA screen a military profile detailing name, rank, number and personal details along with a photo appeared. Her eyes settled on the young face of a human soldier and she found herself smiling.

"Oooh, he's cute." Kali immediately stated to herself. "How come I haven't seen him around?" she scrolled on and noted the history. Fluent in hardware code. Able to interface alien technology. Designed a forerunner translation program that provides a human user interface with forerunner technology. In all, for a young private from the Army reserves, very impressive stuff. "He's good."

"He was the backup, a last minute replacement for Quagmire." Lieutenant Foster stated.

Kali scrolled down a bit more and spotted a bit about being a spare technician. She frowned on that note, clicking her mandibles. "Correct me if I'm wrong, this guy is better than Quagmire."

"He wasn't three weeks ago." Elliot shrugged, leading the girl around a corner. "He didn't even want to come. We had to order him. While he was on the Damocles he attended all your lectures and locked himself away to study the whole time."

'No wonder I never met him.' The Sangheili mused looking at the profile picture's red eyes.

A heavy doorway let out a metallic grind, then slowly moved askew a few metres, allowing the pair to walk into the central chamber. This was it. The Control Room.

The cavernous chamber stretched upward and downward. Hanging in between the vaulted ceiling and pit-floor was the platform. A single bridge leading from the wide bulkhead, it connected with a circular walkway in the very centre of the control room. There were some consoles and blinking holo-panels, along with a massive representation of the Halo ring forming the heart of the centre.

Made entirely out of light, the broken up schematic of the colossal construct rotated slowly on an axis. Multi-coloured lights sprang this way and that, reflecting from the smooth glass that was laid into some of the vaults arching above their heads.

There was a bustle of technicians working on some of the equipment there. Kali and Elliot wandered into the thick of it, some of Kali's hand-picked team glancing up to greet them with waves and nods.

"Well, I want him." Kali said plainly holding out the PDA. "First thing when he gets back, he's on my team."

Elliot frowned, then laughed. "Uh-huh? Right, well here's how this works, Kali. You send me a requisition, just like with all the other members of your team, and then I see what I can do."

"Nope." Kali said. "Here's how this is going to work. When James Trent gets back," - She forcefully pushed the PDA into Elliot's hand. - "he is going to be added to my team." Finishing with a bright smirk, Kali turned on her heel and moved off, leaving the control room with a confident sway in her step.

The doors sealed shut behind the Sangheili girl, leaving Elliot standing there a little dumbfounded. She'd been forceful before, but never that forceful to get someone added to her dig-team.

Smirking, one of the technicians in red rested his hands on his tool-belt, standing beside the lieutenant. "Damn, she's bossy. But so hot. Right?" the man turned his head and met Elliot's un-amused gaze. "Um... right." Casting his eyes down, the technician turned away and went back to work.

Kali's interest in the Trent kid was curious. But Elliot shrugged it off with his usual casual grace. For a girl her age? Regardless of species, such interest in a boy was only natural...

---***---

04) Sorry. Were you in the middle of something?

... but sometimes her urges, Kali found, could not always be quelled just by listening to music. Sometimes some direct intervention was needed.

Kali's private quarters were quite small, a room tucked away not far from the control room. Right next door was a large warehouse-like chamber where the rest of the technicians and marines bunked. Being the only girl in camp, Lieutenant Foster and Sergeant Major Zim had agreed it would be best if she was given her own room. In truth, Kali didn't mind. She was used to living in billets and sharing space with human marines.

But the privacy was nice, especially now.

Her bunk sat in one corner, a painted green footlocker at the foot-end. Beside that were a desk and chair, her desk littered with some relics, broken data-crystals and notebooks scribbled full of findings. Private studies she would retire to in the evenings.

But working on broken old Forerunner devices wasn't her only private study.

Crossing the room, Kali tossed her parka on the bed as she passed. Already she could feel the resistance of her bra pressing down on her hard and erect nipples. As she moved to her desk, she undid the belt holding up her trousers, and paused only once to stoop and unbuckle her boots. Kicking them off, she let her trouser slide down over her slender quadruped knees and fall in a heap on the floor. She elegantly stepped out of them, then sat down on her metal desk-chair.

UNSC standard issue. Not very comfortable, but functional. She could feel the cold press through her panties and chill the skin on her bottom.

Trembling a little, Kali planted her feet on a pair of familiar props and pushed back. Her legs spread, she balanced the chair onto its rear legs. Her left hand gripped the edge of the desk for stability, while her right slid down over her slim belly. Her fingers worked their way past the elastic hem of her panties, and down over the soft cotton. She could feel the heat through the cloth as she touched her soft, swollen nether-lips. Kali's head fell back a little as she slowly rubbed one of her narrow fingers up and down the slit. She could feel the pressure through the cotton, rubbing slowly... felt the musty heat on her finger... felt the damp patch forming on her panties.

Her mind was racing, wondering what she would think of.

She let her mind stray on to a familiar fantasy. She was standing on a balcony overlooking a bustling city. The sun was down and the stars were out, twinkling high above. The noises of the city rose to meet the Sangheili's ears, and a cool breeze formed goose-bumps over her soft blue skin.

A pair of hands touched her waist, slowly sliding around her slim figure. She could feel him, his strong body pressing against her back. One of his hands moved up to rub her right breast. The other busied itself with lifting up the mini-skirt she was wearing.

The Sangheili wouldn't turn her head to look. That was part of the fantasy. Anonymity.

She wasn't wearing anything under the skirt, and his fingers didn't waste any time touching the source of her ache...

Meanwhile, back in the real world, Kali's hand slipped under her panties. Two fingers touched the outer lips of her vagina, slowly and gradually peeling the flesh aside to reveal the moist folds of tender flesh within. Her middle finger gently touched a nub above her winking opening.

Her mandibles went slack as she felt the warmth of her own finger on her clit. Letting out a soft moan, she started teasing herself, very gently moving her finger from side to side, and up and down. her finger only gently brushed the nub of flesh. Each touch, each rub sent a tickle through her loins, and caused her hips to buck as her body begged for more.

Finally she indulged herself a reward.

Her finger pressed hard and held position for a moment. The Sangheili mandibles went wide as a long 'Uuuuuhnnnh' escaped Kali's throat. Her left hand abandoned the edge of the desk and moved up to rake through her hair. Her hips bucked up and down, moving her clit over her finger.

Pleasure raced through her body. Kali quickly clapped her free hand over her mandibles to stop herself from screaming. But in her mind she was crying out over a city of folk who didn't care what was happening on the balcony above them.

"God, yes! Aaah, yes, fuck me with your finger!" Kali screamed out loud as his fingers plunged into her dripping opening. In an instant her juices coated her anonymous lover's fingers.

One finger slipped in at first, vigorously pumping in and out of her. When she adjusted to the width however, one wasn't enough. She wanted more.

She reached back and grabbed his neck, pressing her back against his body. Her free hand moved down and touched the hand cupped over her crotch. Kali's head was thrown back and she screamed at the stars in pleasure.

"More... more, please... oh, God it feels good!" she cried out as another of his fingers joined the first, stretching her out more. Without even giving her a moment to adjust, they started pumping.

Kali had slipped two fingers directly into her opening. Her legs twitched and nearly launched her across her room. She quickly slammed a hand down and grabbed her desk to prevent herself from falling backwards.

With every thrust of her fingers into her own pussy the legs of her chair squeaked. She caught a musty, sweaty smell. It filled the room, but she didn't care. Pleasure raced through her body. She had her mouth agape in a silent scream at the ceiling. She couldn't think straight anymore. Even her most favourite fantasy dissolved.

All that mattered was the burning sensation within her. It had spiralled beyond a simple ache. Beyond a mere lust. It had turned to a need. A need that could only be sated by complete release.

She pulled a finger from her opening and thrust her middle as deep as it would go with an audible 'squelch.' The palm of her hand engulfed her clitoris as her finger probed deep in her vagina. Heat enveloped the sensitive nub of flesh, causing Kali to lose control.

The Sangheili let out another long, low moan of joy, smiling through the spasms that took over her body. Her feet slipped and she fell forward, the front legs of her chair slamming noisily into the floor. She clenched everything she could in her groin area. But it was no use. Hot waves of liquid coated her finger. Splashed her hand. Dripped out over her nether-lips and dripped down the back of one of her legs. The fire in her loins hissed out of existence. Her heart beat violently against her ribs. There was a pounding in her ears. Everything in her line of sight was a blur as her eyes fell partially shut.

The male in her fantasy had stopped. He had moved his hand away from her crotch, and through his trousers Kali could feel a bulge forming. Kali was already itching for more. She knew what came next. She wanted it so bad. But she wanted to look into the eyes of her lover while he took her.

Slowly she turned on the spot. The Sangheili shut her eyes, seating herself on the railing of the balcony. The wind rose for a moment as she felt his hips slide across the inside of her thighs. She felt completed with him between her legs. Her hands gripped his shoulders. She felt his chest press lightly against her breasts.

Slowly Kali's eyes opened. She was a pair of dark red eyes... and the fantasy dissolved again.

Breathing heavily, Kali slowly pulled her finger out of her opening. It came free with a light 'pop' and dripped with a thick, milky white substance that dragged into the cloth of her panties. She looked at it dripping from her hand for a moment, then twisted her mandibles into a smile and brought her hand up to her mouth. She slid her fingers past her mandibles and let her tongue slither up from her throat, hungrily licking at the sticky sweet cum coating her fingers. She savoured the flavour...

At least she tried.

A dull tone rang out across the room. There was a flash of light, it pierced the dim quarters, emanating from where her trousers had landed in a heap. Rising to her feet a little clumsily, Kali walked over to her trousers and located her PDA. There was an incoming audio transmission.

With a sigh, she figured playtime was over already. She had only made it through phase one of her masturbation session. Normally, what she had just put herself through was merely foreplay. Given the time she would move to her bed, shed all of her clothes, get comfortable and really have at it for another half-an-hour.

Reluctantly she pressed the 'receive' button.

A moment later the transmission crackled over the PDA external speaker.

"Kali? It's Zim! There's something happening! Drop everything and get to the entrance plaza, now!"

---***---

_ _

05) Over the rock, through the bush... nothing but badass.

The array was perched on the mountain top. Command hadn't been kidding. The weather up there was choppy, and it would have been suicide to try and bring in a falcon for drop off and pickup.

At least the view was nice.

The array was on the highest of the mountains. The landscape seemed to emanate from that point flowing outward into the rocky peaks that jutted upward, valleys that dipped into rivers and lakes. Some clouds hung low, giving the illusion of smoke rising around some of the mountains. It was like something out of a fantasy movie.

But having said that, James and Sera were on a giant ring shaped artificial world built by a long dead alien race. It didn't get more fantasy-like than that.

The array itself was more of a piece of equipment than a building. A tall tower like-construction with jagged aerials and receiver blades attached to the side of the central antennae. In the cylindrical base were access panels and glowing green strips of crystal indicating the array was operating at optimal efficiency.

It was perched at the end of the mountain, surrounded on three sides by sheer cliffs. There was only one path leading up to the array, the ridge running at an elegant slope down to the thick woods that sprawled down the side of the mountain. Large rocks broke up the ridge providing the duo with some cover from the blistering wind that whipped and howled all around.

Sera was sitting in a patch of grass, her back leaning against the side of the array. Her arms were crossed over her chest, and her eyes were fixed along the mountain ridge. James was on his knees beside her, half buried in an access panel he'd pulled open to get at the systems inside.

James was fairly familiar with the construct's systems. The ring world used crystals and fibre optics rather than wires and circuits. But the principles were the same. He'd been lectured properly before the mission, and attended a week's classes. It was so typical. He'd been able to skip out of school so he could attend the reserves... and ended up in more classes anyway.

And this isn't exactly what he had expected from the reserves. Most guys would be thrilled to have a rifle shoved in their hands and be sent out across an alien landscape to blast the bad-guys. That's not was James wanted though. He chose to be an engineer. He studied for it. Why? Because he was always good at fixing things. He didn't want to be a soldier on the front line. He wanted to be the guy who hid behind the bad-asses and fixed their gear.

James was a little odd that way.

"Command, this is Black five-one, respond, over." Sera said into her radio-mic. There was no reply, only static. "Command, please respond." Just more static. The interference was strongest now they were on top of the array. They had no comms whatsoever on this mountain. "This is going to take all day, isn't it?" Sera suddenly added in a grim tone.

Pulling out a panel and inspecting it in the natural light, James glanced sideways at the panthress. "Well hopefully it won't. We've only got..." he checked his watch before returning his attention to the glowing panel he'd removed. "About seven hours left."

Cocking an eyebrow, Sera took a moment to tear her eyes from the woods on the far end of the ridge and look at the human. "What happens after seven hours?"

"Delta-two-zero." James said dryly, reminiscing Zim's words.

"What's a delta-two-zero?" Sera asked. If anyone was supposed to know what it was, James figured the lieutenant would be one of those people.

Regardless, he answered with: "Something that needs to be avoided. Or else..."

Sera waited, wondering if there was any more to that sentence. "Well? Or else what?"

"Exactly."

A soft clang and James turned around, sitting in the dirt and leaning against the open access panel. He was holding a large flat piece of polished crystal. It was perfectly clear except for the very delicate filaments running along the surface that pulsed golden light. James was holding a PDA in his right hand, which connected to the crystal through a pair of bright red cables. As he studied the readouts on his PDA, James glanced up to the panthress. A question itched the back of his brain.

"Why are you out here on your own?" the human asked. "Don't you have a squad to back you up?"

Sera slowly turned her head to look at the human. "I work alone. Always have. Always will." She said shortly, turning the conversation into the embodiment of small-talk. As she finished speaking, her head turned away again.

"Must be lonely." James stated suddenly.

Glaring, the panthress leaned closer to James, one hand cocked as if she was about to hit him. The human caught the motion in the corner of his eye and instinctively flinched. "Hey, fuck you anyway!" the feline snapped. "I don't have to answer your questions!"

"Whoa, hey, take it easy." James defended as he cowered behind his PDA. "I was just trying to make conversation."

James slowly managed to get back into his work as Sera calmed down and sat up straight again. She glared off into the distance for about five minutes, listening to the wind howling past the rocks that sheltered them.

"I don't like having to take care of others." The panthress suddenly said while gazing off into the distance. "People... other people can be a liability."

James glanced up. The panthress did well to hide it, but there was some pain in her eyes. The human slowly looked back at his readings, deciding not to tempt fate by saying something.

Sera recovered and looked back at the human. "You don't seem the..." Sera eyed him over searching for the right words. "Field-work type."

James chuckled. "Heh. No, I'm the spare systems specialist. I'm here thanks to Ensign Quagmire."

Sera rolled her eyes. Figures. He had to be the emergency replacement. The backup plan. The last resort. "Oh, do tell." The lieutenant said with mock enthusiasm.

James chuckled again, looking up as he mistook her feign for genuine enthusiasm. "Well, Ensign Quagmire was slated to be the systems specialist. But he was a horny sum-bitch. So a week before the mission he catches herpes bad enough to kill a small mammal. Guess who has to replace the bas..." the human paused, catching Sera's un-amused stare. "...tard. Eh... so here I am." He looked back down and fidgeted with his PDA. "Nobody even wanted me here."

Sera sighed. "I suppose I'm sorry, but you knew what you were getting into when you signed up, soldier boy."

"That's what you think." James muttered under his breath.

Not hearing him, or pretending not to hear, Sera continued: "Look, how much longer is it going to take to get back in contact with the Damocles?" she cast a glance to the sky and narrowed her eyes. "The quicker we're out of the open the better."

James sighed and shrugged. Putting down the equipment he was working on. "I'm not sure. We're not dealing with a kitchen light switch here. These capacitors take huge amounts of power, acting like backup batteries. Cutting the main power supply off won't work, because the stored power in the capacitors will keep the array going for the next two-hundred years. When they built this thing, they built it to turn on and stay on. I've killed the main power supply, but now I've got to route all the stored up power into the emergency buffers. I did that by tricking the system into thinking there's a catastrophic overload. The buffers eat up all the power, the array slowly and safely powers down on its own." The human turned to look at the panthress who looked un-amused again.

"Thanks for the tech-lesson, Einstein." Sera said. "Would you mind cutting out the lecture and just getting on with it?"

James frowned and gave her a look that pretty much said 'go do it yourself.' His hand moved down to his belt and he pulled loose a small thermos can. He unscrewed the lid and used it as a cup, pouring steaming black liquid out into the cap.

"What are you doing?" Sera demanded.

"I've been burrowing around in electronics and routing power into storage buffers for the past hour. I'm tired. I'm taking a break." James said simply. Sera straightened up and opened her mouth to say something, but James cut across her. "Look, I dunno what they teach you in ODST boot, but where I'm from, the real army where brotherhoods are forged and preconceptions of what we are fighting for are shattered, that's where we learn the three fundamental things that make the army what it is today. Boots, guns and tasteless coffee. In other words, one hour on, half an hour off. Besides, I can't do anything while the array is powering down. Give it about half an hour and we'll be able to contact the Damocles again."

Sera wasn't listening to any of that. She was on her feet, one hand resting on the butt of her SMG, her eyes peering off into the distance. Something was up, and James didn't realise until the panthress blatantly stated it.

"We're not going to be alive in half an hour." The lieutenant snapped. "We've got incoming Covenant."

"What? Are you sure?" James asked, reaching over. He'd left his M5J leaning against the wall beside him.

"Yes I'm sure." Sera snapped, causing James to freeze. "Stay here and try to get in contact with command. If need be, we'll have to leave some explosives and ditch this thing."

"Whoa, no-no-no-no, that won't work." James exclaimed, scrambling to his feet and grabbing Sera's arm. The panthress quickly pulled away, glaring at the human. She obviously wasn't too partial on being touched. Regardless, James continued: "Listen, there is still an obscene amount of power running through this array. This thing is like a massive fusion coil. An overload caused by say, an explosion, or stray plasma fire could cause an explosion."

Sera looked the array over. It seemed well armoured, but say James was right. That could be a tactical advantage. Lure the enemies in and take them all out in one blast. "What kind of explosion are we talking about?"

"Oh, you know, not too big." James shrugged pretending to be casual. "Only five times Hiroshima... give or take."

The panthress cocked an eyebrow. "Okay, no shooting around the array. Got it. I'll head out, see if I can't slow them down, draw them off at least. Stay here, boost the polarity of the flux-capacitor or some shit and get me a line to command."

James snatched up his rifle and held it across his chest. "I can help."

"You can help by getting me a line to command!" Sera said sternly holding out a hand. "Do your thing, soldier boy. And let me do mine."

Hiding behind a lady's skirt. It didn't seem right, but it was what James was trained for. He was trained to fix things, not to kill aliens. Even if he wanted to argue, James wasn't given the chance. Sera tugged loose her SMG and ran off. Quickly and quietly, the panthress dashed across the open area and plunged sprinting into the woods.

James watched her go before sliding his carbine over one shoulder and locking the weapon across his back. He quickly turned, kicking over his thermos in the process. He ignored it, kneeling before the open access panel. He needed to get hold of Zim and the rest of the expedition in the control room.

Reaching into a pouch on his belt, James pulled loose his radio and the associated tangle of wires that ran through his tac-vest. Putting the radio on a ledge beside him, the human untangled his headset and stuck the gear next to the device. He then reached into another pouch and produced a bundle of red and black wires ending in crocodile clips. Using the adaptable cables, he hooked the radio into the first and best power interface he could find, then picked up his PDA. He wired the handheld device into an interface slot and pulled up an English translation of the array's user-interface.

The plan was simple. James had hooked his radio antennae up into the array. To counter the obscene amount of power consumption he was going to draw power from the emergency buffers to power the radio, and then some to boost his signal and break through the excess interference blocking communications. The array wasn't fully powered down yet, and still seemed to be projecting static over the comms.

The boy was programming the power output into his walkie-talkie when the whine of gunfire filled the air. With mild shock, James twisted around and looked at the woods. Blue light flashed in the grim darkness between the trees, and a few stray bolts flickered in and out of existence. A shower of sparks lit up as one bolt slammed into a tree near the edge of the woods and sent splinters of smouldering bark everywhere. A few treetops swayed as the tell-tale 'thump' of ballistic grenades and explosives detonated. Over the whine of the firefight, James could just about hear alien voice-boxes screaming and a non-terrestrial commander barking panicked orders.

As quickly as the firefight started, it stopped. The light faded and soon there was no sound but the wind.

With a relieved sigh, James returned to his job, no longer hearing alien voices. That could only mean Sera had succeeded in stopping the incoming aliens... or not.

A guttural roar filled the air and more plasma fire was heard. Wide eyed, James turned again to see the firefight pick up again. More UNSC issue explosive, and the faint burp of a submachine gun. Bolts of light flashed this way and that.

"Oh, shit." James cursed looking at his PDA. His new parameters were taking time to load. The progress bar was at 25% and was loading slowly. Would Sera be able to hold them all off for the next twenty minutes?

More rumbling explosions and the fighting seemed to thicken.

James' mind was made. He wasn't a fighter. His hit score on the range had been atrocious. The only reason he was worth his rank because of his affinity with machinery. He'd always been told by his corporal: "James, there will come a day when the UNSC calls upon the reserves to fight. And on that day, when the shooting starts, just hide behind me and pass your ammo on to whoever needs it more." Well, obviously hiding behind Corporal Bower wasn't an option today.

Pulling loose his M5J, the boy tucked the rifle under one arm and sprinted across the clearing. As he left the shelter of the rocks forming a perimeter around the base of the array, the human stumbled sideways, but didn't lose his footing. The gusts of wind nearly tore him free from the dirt, but ignoring the bitter cold whipping at him as best he could, the boy pressed on until he reached the shelter near the forest edge. As he reached the woods, the firefight died down again, and silence bathed the mountain again.

Forcing his way into the waist-high undergrowth that blanketed the forest floor between the sparsely placed trees, James kept his rifle shouldered and the muzzle pointed forward, thumb touching the fire selector and his index finger resting on the trigger-guard.

James opened his mouth and caught his breath, slowly moving to a halt between two fairly thin trees. The human lowered himself to one knee, keeping his rifle pointed forward as he squinted through the darkness. The canopy was so thick it was cutting out most of the natural light. Only forty metres into the woods that angled downward from where the boy sat and it was nearly completely pitch black.

A rustling noise caught James' attention. He quickly rose to his feet again, aiming directly at the source of the noise. What he saw, he couldn't quite explain.

The undergrowth moved about fifty metres ahead of him. It was hard to see in the dark, but sure enough the foliage was moving on its own accord. There was no wind, and no figure moving around. Regardless, the leaves rustled and the branches shook as something forced its way closer.

James pushed the fire selector on the M5J into full-automatic and aimed through the sights. His breaths were short and nervous as the invisible contact moved closer. Thirty metres now.

And then it stopped. The rustling stopped. There was no noise... only dead silence.

"Sera..." James whispered.

All hell was unleashed. Plasma fire came out of nowhere, streaming in from about seven different directions. The blue globs of energy scythed out of the darkness, lighting up the forest with pale light and fire. The streams of energy projectiles hissed past James' position and slammed into the surrounding trees, sending chips of smouldering bark everywhere.

James screamed, ducking and turning at the same time. In one move he dove to the dirt, landing heavily behind the gnarled roots of a thick tree, the undergrowth scratching and clawing at him from all sides. The barrage of plasma fire didn't stop, focusing on the tree where James was. Bolts sizzled into the dirt by his right boot as the boy scrambled further behind the tree and sat up against the rough bark, rifle cradled in his lap.

James came to the realisation he was in trouble. He needed to get out of here. But how?

His training came back to him. He'd been terrible in the combat simulators, but he'd learned the fundamentals of cover and move. But could he actually pull it off? James' limbs felt heavy, his heart was hammering against his chest so fast he was afraid he might have a heart attack. This was nothing like the simulator. This was real. If he got hit, he didn't lose a pip of health. He could die!

Closing his eyes, the human pushed that to the back of his mind. It was either die fighting, or die cowering like a little bitch.

Twisting around, James rose to one knee, leaned around the tree and squeezed the trigger of his carbine. The weapon barked off round after round in full automatic, sending glowing golden tracers sizzling off into the woods. Some rounds slammed into trees. Others cut further into the darkness. Empty brass shells spat out the side of the weapon with each kick of the recoil.

Blue light filled his vision as one bolt of plasma hit the tree just above his head. The flash was near blinding, and it caused James to cry out, squeezing his eyes shut. The light faded and he blinked away purple spots, realising his finger had not once left his carbine trigger. He ignored the heat that caused sweat to drool down the side of his face. He did his best to ignore the fear gripping his chest. He continued to spray ammunition wildly into the enemy positions, sweeping wildly from left to right.

And eventually James saw red.

The incoming enemy fire thinned out for a moment as the enemies concealed further into the forest took cover from the boy's covering fire. Three red tracers flashed from the muzzle of the M5J. A moment later the inevitable happened. There was a soft 'clack' as the rifle's bolt locked back, indicating the weapon was empty. The streams of plasma were sizzling this way and that, no longer focusing on the one point. Now was his chance.

James dove away, landing heavily with a grunt. Just like in training, the human cradled his rifle across his chest and crawled on elbows and knees, his boots kicking furiously to propel him faster. The undergrowth was thick and worked against him, as if the spirits of this forest wanted to hold him back.

He crawled for what felt like an eternity, blue light crisscrossing this way and that above his helmet. Slowly the light grew brighter and James glanced up to see he was close to the edge of the forest. Scrambling behind a tree, the boy sat up and pressed the mag-release button on the side of his rifle. The spent magazine, now a useless metal canister, fell free and landed in his lap. Ignoring it, James tugged another free from the pouches on his tac-vest.

He quickly checked the magazine top, seeing the shiny brass of the first two rounds. To double check the rounds were properly fitted, he tapped the top of the magazine against the side of his helmet then slipped the clip into his rifle. It clicked home and James pushed the bolt-release catch on the left side of the gun. With a satisfying click, the bolt slammed home and fed the first round of the new magazine into the chamber. In an instant he was ready to shoot again.

And this time a target presented itself.

Over the whine of the plasma fire, James heard another rustle. He looked left and saw the undergrowth move beyond the next tree. Again, James' first instinct was to call out to check if that was Sera... but previous experience made him hold his tongue.

The brambles parted and a short, squat figure clad entirely in bright orange armour fell out of the spiny growth, landing face down in the mud. It was a Covenant grunt.

One of the low tier species that made up the Covenant, grunts were the cannon fodder. James had seen vid-logs of those little critters being ordered against UNSC positions by the thousands, thrown like cattle against impossible odds. The little guys were weak, generally a low threat... but they were still armed and could easily kill you if you underestimated them.

This grunt was like James, the lowest of the lowest in the army, as indicated by the orange armour. Grunt armour was pressurised, and inside was a cold methane environment that simulated their home-planet's atmosphere. As such, all grunts carried these massive pointed tanks on their backs. It made them clumsy, and often stand out when trying to sneak about.

"Jesus!" James cried out with fright as the grunt looked up. Through the alien's mask the human could see the grunt's eyes grow to the size of saucers.

The two looked at each other, completely forgetting that they were enemies, and were each armed. It was James who recovered quickest.

The human snapped up his rifle and fired. A sustained burst of eight rounds tore through the air before James relaxed on the trigger, seeing the squat alien tossed back the way he'd stumbled, explosions of gas and fluorescent blood rippling across the grunt's cracked armour. Four of James' rounds had hit the dirt beside the alien. One had skimmed the methane tank. Three hit home, two in the torso, one cracking the helmet in half. As the alien disappeared back into the brambles, James heard a distinct 'clang' as the methane tank exploded. The explosion was followed by shards of armour and blood splashing a nearby tree.

The Covenant were getting close. Way too close. James had to move, and for some reason thought it necessary to vocalise his decision.

"Fuck this, I'm gone!" the human cried, rising to his feet and firing past the tree he was using for cover. The crisscross plasma focused on James just a few seconds after he'd expelled the rest of his second magazine. By the time the enemy fire found him, James was already hauling ass across the open ridge, battling the strong crosswinds and fighting with what felt like an asthma attack. Funny thing was James didn't have asthma.

Regardless, by the time he reached the shelter of the rocks surrounding the array, breathing felt more like a chore than an automatic bodily function. Panting for breath, more out of panic than anything else, James dropped his empty rifle in the grass and dropped to his knees by his PDA.

Help. He needed help. He needed to call Zim and get him to send in the UAVs for support. Send in a pelican. Send a falcon. Send anything!

James checked the progress bar so see if he had a live link with the rest of the expedition yet.

26%.

"Oh, fuck me!" James cried.

As he did he heard heavy footfalls. Jumping up, the boy whirled around to face his doom. Standing before him at the edge of the perimeter formed by the sheltering rocks was an elite.

Elites were very much at the top of the Covenant food-chain. These aliens were as dangerous as they were ugly. Seven feet tall, monstrously muscle-bound bipeds, these beasts had digitigrade legs, hunched backs and quad-jointed jaws filled with razor sharp teeth. Elite warriors were clad in sleek power armour, the only Covenant species to utilise personal energy shields in the field of combat. A general infantry was clad in blue, and those guys were pretty tough, cunning and never retreated from a battle. Majors and squad leaders were clad in crimson. That way their armour wouldn't stain when they brutally murdered you. Red clad elites were big trouble, and nothing short of combined and sustained machine gun fire or a rocket launcher could kill them.

This elite was neither of those permutations. This elite was a field marshal.

This alien was a demon-spawn straight from hell, clad head to toe in ornamental silver armour with crimson and gold trims. Elites were fierce enough, but this guy's helmet had vicious looking tusks and swept back horns completing the demonic imagery.

"Fuck me sideways." James whined against the inside of his scarf, stepping back and pinning himself against the side of the array.

The alien snarled down at him, a blade hissing in his right hand. That was the elite weapon of choice, most of the time. Elites were like demon-samurai. They would, whenever they could, wield a sick-looking twin-pronged energy sword.

James was dead. This was it. It was the end of him. James watched with fearful eyes as the elite prepared to lunge. One swish and James would lay there at the base of the array cleaved clean in two...

But the elite didn't lunge. He stumbled...

Letting out a surprised roar, the alien dropped forward and caught himself just as a figure rose up along his back. It was Sera!

The panthress was gripping the alien's collar with one hand, her other clutching one of her daggers held high above her head. She had her cap on back to front and a night-vision scope hung over her left eye. The lieutenant bore her pointed teeth as she let out a cry and slammed the blade home in the base of the elite's neck. The creature gargled and gasped, then fell forward with a heavy thud.

As she landed, tugging her knife free, James spotted the rest of the ridge behind her. It was littered with four grunt corpses, their blood splashed all over the grass and dirt. One more elite lay in an awkward tangle by the edge of the woods. She had single handedly taken them all out.

James couldn't express how happy he was to see her. Not even his expression of relief gave it away.

Sera wasn't so happy to see him though.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Sera screamed, tearing off her night vision goggles. "I told you to stay here!"

"I wanted to help!" James shouted back, regretting his relief for seeing her.

"I don't need your help!" the panthress shot at the human on the verge of punching James in the face.

But the way James suddenly looked at her, it was if she had just slapped him in the face. Frowning sadly, James hung his head and turned back to where his PDA and radio hung out of the array's access panel. Lazily he flopped down onto his knees and picked up his PDA.

"I... I'm sorry." The human sighed. "I just felt... useless."

Sera glared for another moment before her features softened. Slowly she tucked away her goggles, straightened her cap out and slid the dagger back into the sheath on her chest, clicking in the button that held it down home. With a sigh, she walked over, her boots crunching on the hard grass until she stood directly behind James. The lieutenant reached out and squeezed his shoulder for a moment.

"You got nothing to be sorry about, kid." She said, her voice suddenly kind. It actually took James by surprise. "You're not useless. I don't know how to fix this array. But you do. So I do need you. For this." She pointed at the array, then pointed at where the human's rifle lay. "But not for that. I can't take your death on my conscious. So when it comes to combat, I need you to do exactly what I say... okay?" she lowered her head to his as the human slowly lifted his gaze.

Turning his head, James met her gaze and saw something in her eyes that he hadn't seen on the panthress yet. It was kindness. So she did have a heart.

James realised he was staring into those yellow eyes and quickly nodded, looking away. "Okay."

Sera straightened up and the boy turned his attention to the PDA. "So it seems like that was the last of 'em." The panthress stated. "It was weird though. It was like they were in active camouflage, until they came into a certain range."

James froze, then looked at the dead elite at the mouth of the rocks, before looking back at his PDA. "Huh. Could they... hmmm."

Sera stood over him as he worked, adjusting the frequency switch on his radio and feeding a series of technical looking commands into his PDA. Readings and frequency waves played across the screen for a moment.

"Okay, step back." James warned, pulling loose his PDA and shuffling back about a metre.

Sera followed, watching curiously for a while... until she heard the whine of energy building up. It grew higher and higher, turning to a shrill piercing noise... and then release with a loud 'BANG!' James' radio, still propped on the ledge suddenly burst apart. The frame cracked and hung loosely, dangling out of the access panel by one of the connecting wires. The lime green circuit board hung half exposed revealing burst transistors belching a viscous yellow material. The back-plate of the device lay somewhere in the grass.

"What was that?" Sera asked as James climbed to his feet.

"I tuned my radio to a Covenant frequency, then told the array to project an opposite frequency. Two opposites null each other out." James explained looking up, then moving to the ridge and looking out over the mountains.

"So the radios should work now." Sera said reaching for her ear-piece, but James shook his head.

"No, radio jamming frequencies fluctuate to maintain a jam. But stealth canopies remain a constant because not everyone is as smart as I am... there!" James pointed out to the next mountain peak, about eight kilometres away across the valley.

The air around the peak seemed to shimmer for a moment. And then slowly but gradually a tower materialised out of thin air. Sera immediately grabbed her binoculars and zoomed in to take a closer look. Her eyebrows raised immediately at the sight of the pylon.

The purple tones and sleek design gave away Covenant origin she'd seen these things before. Tall towers with an umbrella-like energy field at the top. They were stealth canopies. As she observed the first crawling with grunts, another materialised on the next mountain top. And the next... and the next, across each peak winding all the way southward.

"Stealth canopies." James said. "They were causing the interference. Those peaks wind all the way to the control room, and were hiding most, if not all Covenant troops between here and there."

Sera scanned down the mountains into the valley that wound and weaved through the range, directly to the control room where the rest of the expedition were. Her eyes widened as she saw something moving along the valley floor. Vehicles. Lots of vehicles.

"I see a convoy. Hundred... two hundred infantry, maybe more. Wraith support, three tanks. They're moving under the stealth canopies. Assault formation... they're going to assault the control room!" Sera gritted her teeth and lowered the binoculars. She quickly looked at James who looked equally worried. "Can you do what you just did to un-jam comms?"

James shook his head vigorously. "Like I said, stealth frequencies are constant because they figure humans aren't smart enough to crack them, but radio jammers..." he started.

"Fluctuate to maintain a jam in case they're discovered." Sera finished. "Okay, we're just going to have to beat them there. Grab your weapon." With that the panthress turned and dashed off, jumping over the dead elite as she went.

"Wait, beat them?" James asked as he snatched up his M5J, struggling to catch up with the anthro as he reloaded. "W-what do you mean beat them there?"

---***---

_ _

06) ... the dog beat me over the fence.

"This is like, the worst idea in a history of very bad ideas." James complained crouching in the snow, rifle locked across his back. "And us Earthlings have a long history."

"Quit your bitching." Sera hissed leading their slow creep. "We're almost th... oh, shit." The panthress froze, then lowered herself in the trampled slush. Following suit, James slowly crawled up beside her to see what she was seeing.

Directly ahead of them was a narrow pass through the bowl shaped valley that engulfed the control room. Connecting the entrance plaza of the pyramidal structure was a long wide bridge, able to house two scorpion tanks side by side. The bridge was dusted with muddy slush and absolutely crawling with Covenant_._ Grunts and elites were patrolling the bridge up and down, forming a mass of bodies between the duo and the gate on the far end leading up to the control room. With them were jackals.

Smaller than elites and taller than grunts, the jackals were frail, bird like reptiles. They were armed with plasma pistols and rounded energy shields mounted on their wrists to protect them from fire.

Beyond the mass of infantry guarding the bridge were two wraith tanks. The Covenant mortar-tank was a wide, sleek vehicle that hovered on anti-gravity pods. The cockpit was fitted within the heart, and on the rear was an upward pointed plasma cannon. Mounted just behind the cockpit hatch was a plasma turret manned by an orange armoured grunt.

The Covenant had control over the control room. There was no evidence of any UNSC personnel on patrol. They were all either dead, or captive.

"This is not going to be easy." Sera whispered.

James narrowed his eyes. She was wrong. This was going to be impossible. He figured it would be best not to voice his opinion though.

"What do you think?" the panthress suddenly asked looking at the human.

Frowning, James looked into her yellow eyes to make sure she was serious. "You wanna know what I think? I think the army sucks ass!" he hissed. "Shipped halfway across the galaxy to get my butt shot off on some alien battlefield? If I wanted this kind of excitement I'd move to Detroit!"

Sera rolled her eyes. "That's not helping. How the hell do we get in the control room without the Charlie Foxtrots spotting us? C'mon, soldier boy. You were helping the egg-head teams study this thing right? Use what you learned!"

James gritted his jaw. What had he learned in his time on this ring? The aliens who built this ring did everything big. The energy consumption for this whole construct was more than five suns put together. The main power conduit for the control room ran through a gravity cable underneath the entrance bridge. The girl in charge of the expedition, that alien chick, was actually kind of...

Wait... power conduit?

"Oh, yeah." James grinned, proud of himself. Rising to one knee, he shuffled forward and ran his hand through the snow, brushing the cold slush aside. Revealed in front of them was a circular hatch, about a metre in diameter with glowing green lights on each quadrant. James gripped the handle in the second, and heavily twisted it around with a 'thunk!' "And behind door number one..."

The hatch divided into quarters, then receded out of the way to reveal a cylindrical shaft stretching down into the inner workings of the bridge.

"I spent six hours in this pit yesterday." James explained as he grabbed the edges of the hatch and let his feet dangle down into the shaft. He hung there for a second before he pulled in his arms and disappeared into the hole. The human dropped a good few metres, then landed heavily on a corrugated steel gantry.

The pulsing hum of energy filled his ears as it had done yesterday when he was sent down into this service corridor. Hanging a few inches below the gantry was a thick cable of vibrant white light, transferring concentrated energy from the Halo ring's generators directly into the control room. Directly ahead of him the narrow, low corridor stretched on, right across the endless pit between them and the control room, underneath the Covenant troops.

Hands sliding over the cold metal railings on either side of the corridor, James moved forward a bit. He was glad he couldn't see down through the power cable. The pit stretching down into the core access ways of the Halo was dizzying.

The gantry shook as Sera landed behind him. They both glanced up to see the access hatch swish closed again. Sera quickly snatched up her M7S as James led the way through the inner workings of the bridge. Above them they heard the heavy footfalls of elite warriors and the hum of the wraith engines. Their path carried them under the base of the pyramid, past all the Covenant patrols and even the plaza gate.

"So, if my 'marine-corps-bravado is up to scratch, I think I owe you a drink when we get back to Earth." James started as they moved.

Behind him he heard Sera snort. "Yeah, if we make it that far. Don't make a girl a promise if you know you can't keep it."

James contemplated that in silence for a moment. She was right. There was no guarantee they were getting out of this in one piece. The human tried not to think about it though. The last thing he wanted to do was become even more useless.

"This leads all the way up to the top of the pyramid." James whispered over his shoulder as they neared the end of the corridor. The end was marked by ladder with polished steel rungs. It was surrounded by a cylindrical shaft leading all the way up to the very top of the pyramid.

James grabbed the first rung, but Sera snatched him by the shoulder. The panthress pulled the human boy back and pinned him against the side of the shaft. She immediately edged past, the front of her body pressing tight against James. She was so close she felt her hot breath blow over his face, causing his eyelids to flutter with surprise for a moment.

"Easy there, soldier boy." Sera whispered softly. "I'll go first."

James blinked. It took him a full two seconds to realise she was roughly pushing past him to get at the ladder first. She climbed up ahead of him, leaving the human a little surprised. Slowly he collected himself, then climbed after the lieutenant. Clinging to the rungs, pulling himself higher with each step, James made the mistake of looking directly up.

Where Sera moved, he got a perfect view of her rump, perfectly rounded and swaying almost seductively as she climbed the ladder. Again, James blinked and swallowed hard.

"Enjoying the view down there?" Sera called as if reading his mind.

James didn't say anything.

Before long the panthress reached the top, the access hatch dividing into quarters and pulling away like the first. Natural light spilled into the shaft as Sera slowly lifted her head to peek outside. Stretching out around them was the rounded top of the pyramid. Right around the perimeter was a low handrail, and to the very back, built into the mountain wall was a massive vaulted door. The lock-lights were glowing red to indicate they were locked out.

Sera's eyes widened at the sight of a wraith holding position not far away. It was facing away, so it hadn't noticed them yet. She ducked back down and whispered to James: "The doors into the control room are locked. Can you open them up?"

"Yeah," James whispered somewhere below. "but it may take a while."

"I'll commandeer the wraith and cover you then." Sera whispered back down.

"Wait! Commandeer the what now?"

Sera was already clambering out of the access shaft. Boots planted on the deck she sprinted up behind the wraith with speed reserved for insanity. Normally the average marine would be running away from wraiths completely forgetting it was easier to get within the mortar tank's range of fire, rather than outside.

The panthress closed in on the vehicle's flank and leapt up. One boot hit the side of the sleek craft and she pushed herself up, catching the lip of the turret-gunner's nest. Her free hand darted down and tore loose her SMG. The grunt holding on to the plasma turret only had a second to realise what had jumped him before the M7S coughed out a dozen rounds. The grunt was thrown squealing to one side, slumping over the side of the mortar-tank's hull, chunks of bloody armour and brains dribbling down the side of the wraith.

She then swung around the turret nest and positioned herself above the cockpit hatch, jamming the barrel of her SMG on a button to the side. The hatch pulled in half an inch and then slid away to reveal the elite in the cockpit. Wide eyed, the creature looked up into the silencer jammed against his forehead.

More caseless rounds coughed from the weapon, splashing the driver's seat with blood. As the pilot was killed in an instant, the vehicle slowly bobbed down to the ground. Seeing this, James slowly crawled out of the access shaft on hands and knees. Pushing himself to his feet, the human looked around to see the rest of the plaza was clear, then saw Sera drag the dead driver out of the wraith cockpit.

The elite hit the ground with a wet smack, followed shortly by a grunt missing half of his face. When the vehicle was clear, Sera jumped in feet first, disappearing into the sleek purple hull of the wraith.

James slowly walked over and heard the panthress complain. "Damn!" she called. "It's not working. I must have shot up something important. Hang on, I think I can fix it."

As she pulled loose a panel on the inside, James walked around the back of the wraith and ran his fingers over a strip of glowing symbols. In response a small panel opened up, revealing several power conduits inside.

"Maybe I'll just re-program it from here." James muttered pulling out his PDA and flipping the cover open.

"What was that?" Sera called out as she worked on something.

"Nothing!" James assured as he linked into the wraith's sub-systems and brought the human translated interface up on his PDA screen. "Nothing."

As far as he figured the mortar tank had three dependent systems. Main power, plasma turret and the main plasma cannot. From a glance at the diagnostics scrolling over his PDA screen one of the main power conduits were severed. He pushed the diagnostics aside and re-routed power with a few button presses. It wasn't exactly rocket-science. James just needed to know what he was looking for.

In an instant the wraith powered up. Humming with life, the anti-grav pods lifted the tank a few feet into the air, and the ventral flaps of the main plasma canon opened up.

"There! I fixed it. I did it." Sera called, leaving James frowning a little funnily.

"Uuuuh..." he started when the lieutenant cut over him.

"What are you standing there for?" the panthress called. "Get on that door."

James backed off, then ran to the control panel beside the vaulted door. He extended the ribbon of wires from the back of his PDA again and plugged it into the holo-panel to see exactly what was wrong.

"Hey, kid! You mind hurrying up?" Sera asked as she steered the wraith to the edge of the plaza. Through the external camera she looked down at the bridge and saw the infantry massing. They were exposed, and only had seconds to clear out before a full infantry division overran them. "We got company!"

Little pinpricks of fire lit up across the bridge, and a second later a mass of elites were launched into the air. Propelled forth on jet-packs, the alien warriors soared into the air towards them with frightening speed.

"Fuck!" Sera screamed, gripping the weapon-direction yolk and fluttering her finger over the trigger as fast as she could. Slowly, one by one, massive globules of plasma crackling with white hot energy spat from the wraith's rear mounted gun. The large flaring projectiles arced straight down towards the incoming elites.

The lead alien was swallowed up by the first shot of plasma. He hung there for a second, a black outline before fading out of existence. The ball of plasma splashed apart, spraying three other elites with plasma, causing them to spin away and plummet back to the ground.

Plasma bolts flew back, singing the air and splashing against the wraith's hull, causing the armour to warp and buckle in places.

Sera kept firing explosive plasma down at them as the elites flew closer. Explosions lit up the sky above the bridge, sending chunks of bodies and charred armour raining back down. But the mass of elites soaring upward was too much for one wraith to control.

Sera pulled the vehicle back and angled the gun upwards as the remaining elites hovered in position. Their guns flickered, sending streaks of light bouncing every which way. Plasma fizzled on the deck all around the wraith. Some slammed into the vaulted door.

That was when she heard James cry out.

"Holy shit... that's it! That's all I have to do! I got it! Ell-tee, I got... gargh!" the human suddenly screamed and Sera heard a pronounced thud.

She squeezed off a shot into the centre of the mass of elites. Agile, floating in the air they scattered, thinning out the incoming fire. The panthress then reached up and grabbed the edge of the cockpit, pulling herself half out of the vehicle to look over at where James had been. The human was laying slumped over on his side, smoke belching from the side of his helmet where the upper layers of the armour bubbled and melted. He wasn't moving.

"James!" Sera screamed. The human didn't budge.

A triple 'thwoomth' of energy caught her ear and the lieutenant looked up. One of the elites was holding a shoulder mounted plasma launcher. A trio of guided plasma bombs left the barrel and rocketed in her direction. Eyes wide for a moment, Sera smoothly vaulted over the side of the wraith and landed gracefully beside the vehicle. The plasma bombs stuck to the front of the wraith and started screaming.

Sera pushed off and sprinted to where the human lay...

An explosion threw her off her feet...

The wraith was engulfed in flames that clawed upwards and threw debris in every direction. The shockwave forced Sera into the ground, face-planting her into the deck. Red light filled her vision and she was seeing double. There was no feeling in her limbs. Slowly the panthress forced her head up, feeling blood run from her nose across the bottom half of her face. The edges of her vision turned black and everything turned blurry.

The crackle of flames in the air was followed by the waft of soot. She could feel the heat of fire on the back of her head. Not far away lay James. He still wasn't moving.

Slowly Sera reached out, determined to pull herself closer to the private.

That was when a split-toed boot slammed into the deck in front of her. She slowly shifted her eyes upward, following the boot up into an armoured leg, attached to a tall, broad alien. The elite was muscular, deep scars visible on the parts of his skin the black-as-night armour did not cover. His helmet was clutched in one hand, his other hand curled around a sizzling plasma blade. The two pronged cleaver swing around and hung a few inches from Sera's face as she stared at the creature.

Fatigue took over. The blood drained from her head and the world toppled head over heels. her eyes rolled into the back of her skull, and Sera's face slumped back against the ground. The last thing she heard was the elite's gruff commanding tone bark orders at the other elites landing heavily around the panthress.

"Put them with the others."

---***---

_ _

07) This is not your grave...

His mind came hurtling down from space and smashed into his skull. It surprised him he didn't burn up on entry...

James' memories lay shattered all over the place like a broken mirror, each shard reflecting another part of what happened to him today. There was the falcon roller-coaster ride through the mountains. In the corner somewhere was Sera leaping from a tree and kicking a banshee to its death. Somewhere in the mass of flashing images spinning around him was the firefight in the dark woods. A radio exploded. Sera's warm breath on his face...

Sera?

James' eyes fluttered and the blurry images above him focused into the face of a black furred panthress, her yellow eyes wide with worry.

"Holy shit! I thought you were dead." Sera hissed where she sat bent over him. The human could feel one of her hands wrapped around his neck, the other resting on his chest.

James managed to force a small grin, wincing with pain as he did. He could feel something caked to his face, and the left side of his head throbbed painfully. "Well... you know what they say about reports of my death... being so exaggerated and all."

Probably the wittiest thing James had said all day, and he could tell by the look on Sera's face she didn't even catch the Mark Twain reference. 'Whoosh,' straight over the badass ODST's head.

Still, the human grinned and sat up. His helmet and scarf were missing, revealing his face. A young man with red eyes and a rounded boyish face. His hair was cropped short around the sides, leaving a slightly longer strip over the top of his head. There was a burn on his left temple, and blood was dried across the side of his face. The pouches on his tac-vest had been raided and now hung empty from his torso. His rifle was missing, but it didn't take long for him to locate it across the room in a pile of other weapons and magazines.

He was in the control room, he recognised it from that morning. There were elites all around, Covenant warriors standing on guard with plasma rifles cradled in their arms. Their eyes never left the congregation of UNSC personnel gathered on the floor only a dozen metres away from where their weapons lay.

Sitting around James and Sera were some of the expedition security. Five marines in battle dress uniforms similar to James' attire. He recognised Zim and Lieutenant Elliot Foster sitting among them.

And there was Kali Klepto. The elite girl was on her feet, her jacket shed down to her polo-shirt. Clutching each arm was a Covenant warrior, holding her tightly as she watched one of the elites standing over the control room's main command console.

"The fuck is that guy doing?" James whispered softly.

"Trying to get Kali to activate the ring." Lieutenant Foster whispered back.

"What?" James suddenly cried out, jumping to his feet. As he did, a lump formed in his throat. He permeated pure fear and every pore on his body felt like it was being stabbed by tiny needles. Still, he ignored his gut and turned on the spot, pointing at the black armoured elite standing over the console. "Does he even know what that will do?"

The elites standing guard shifted into combat stances, watching the human closely. The black armoured warrior turned on the spot to inspect the human who had recently woken up. The creatures attention caused James' heart to skip a beat.

Damn, the Covenant commander was huge! The elite towered over his fellows, standing broad as a mongoose ATV and about as tall as a warthog LRV was high. The parts of his blue flesh that were revealed under his charcoal armour were covered in grisly scars, one particularly prominent spiderweb formed in his gut where it looked like he'd taken an anti-materiel sniper round. His left eye was milky white and blind, leaving only his right to peer directly into James' soul.

The elite commander clenched his fists and stomped closer. As he moved, Sera grabbed James by the wrist to hold him back, but seemingly fearless the boy slipped free and stepped past the nearest elite guard. The guard made no motion to stop him though. The alien commander was intrigued, James could see that much, and with a wave he indicated his men to leave the human be.

The elite wasn't the only one who was suddenly intrigued. Everyone else was staring at him as well. Zim was the first to speak.

"Did Trent's balls just grow out of nowhere in the past few minutes?" the NCO asked gruffly.

Sera didn't answer, watching in awe as the black armoured elite towered over the comparatively scrawny boy.

"STOP!" a voice suddenly screamed, causing the elite to turn his head.

Kali was puling at her captors, trying to tear free, but to no avail. "Leave him alone, 'Granee!" she screamed with a warning tone. Kali wasn't one to scare. It took more than armed Covenant warriors to intimidate her. And if they were threatening the boy she liked... they would have been better off just killing her then and there, and save them some future trouble.

The elite in black, 'Granee scowled and looked back to the human. He pondered over James for a moment then looked back to Kali. A white-hot energy blade sprang to life in one hand. 'Granee's other hand rose to reveal he was holding a glowing relic. The item pulsed soft green and formed an angular, sleek T, the tail end ending in a crystalline point.

"Activate this ring and I will spare the insolent one." The elite stated in a reasonable tone.

Kali's mandibles gritted together. With a panicked gaze she glanced between the Halo's activation icon and James. Catch twenty-two. Save one or save everyone? How could she possibly choose between two losing scenarios?

It was James who chose for her. "I'll activate the ring." Boldly the human reached out and grabbed hold of the glowing index. He recognised the device from studies of the Halo ring. It was the key to activating the weapons embedded within Halo. A weapon designed to suppress a parasitic entity that had once, long ago threatened all life in the galaxy. A weapon that wiped out all the parasite's hosts. Halo specifically killed every sentient being in the galaxy in a burst of cleaning light.

The Covenant, misguided, thought the 'cleansing light' was a religious reference. They through they were to be propelled upon a path of spirituality with the activation of a Halo.

James was ready to grant them that.

"What the hell, Trent?" Zim yelled, leaping to his feet. As he did, Foster and Sera followed, but the guards closed in, aiming their weapons at the UNSC marines.

Kali pulled at her captors again, struggling to get free. Her eyes were wide with shock, staring at the human boy holding on to the index.

'Granee was staring at James too. He scrutinised the human for a moment, then let the index slip from his fingers. "One trick and you die slowly, human." The elite growled in a low tone.

James didn't say anything. He moved around the elite and approached the glowing terminal. The console stretched around the arc of the central gantry surrounding the holographic representation of Halo. He ran one hand over the holograms, causing a rainbow of colours to smear in his fingers' wake. The index grew more vibrant as he came to a slot in the console, a perfect fit for the pointed crystalline key.

The boy held the key in front of his eyes for a moment, admiring the sleek surfaces, then looked over his shoulder at 'Granee. The elite narrowed his eyes. James then looked over to where Sera and the others were being held. He saw the panthress' eyes were wide, begging him not to do it.

What choice did James have? This was the only way. It was do this, or the elites would kill them all anyway.

He placed the tip of the index over the receptacle and glanced over the control panel. His free hand was typing at a few controls. As he did, the buttons and dials changed colours and in the background several clunks of power conduits sliding into place was heard. A 'whoosh' of energy filled the control room, causing the elites to distractedly lift their heads in awe. Any minute now they would be propelled upon their great journey.

"Very good, human." 'Granee muttered. "You are worthy of your name. Let me know it," - he held his energy sword tighter. - "So you may at least die with honour."

James very slowly turned his head, looking over his shoulder. But he wasn't looking at the elite. He looked directly at the edge of the walkway half a dozen metres away, resting on a support beam right above a glowing beam of light. The power relay pulsed with vibrant white light, and crackled every so often sending a delicate bold of static shooting outward every so often.

Slowly James looked back to the console, pressing three fingers against the holo-panel. With a flick of the wrist he pushed part of the command console aside, allowing a new window to pop up. He inspected the forerunner inscriptions, then tapped a couple of rounded buttons, then twisted a dial until the entire circumference glowed crimson.

James' hand fell and the index slid into the slot. Everything stopped. The lights dimmed for a moment. The hum of energy faded away. Startled the elites looked around unsure exactly what had happened.

"My name is nobody." James answered before giving the index a sharp twist.

Everything raced back together. Blinding light washed over the control room. It filled every space, ever corner. Nobody could see. One of the elites gave a cry out, which was followed by a heavy thud.

And then it faded. James blinked away multi-coloured spots to see one of the elites had lost his footing and fallen over. Everyone froze...

An explosion rocked the ground. It was the crackling power relay. Electricity clawed across the support beam above it seconds before the pillar of light burst outward causing every hair on James' body to stand upright. The support holding up the edge of the walkway burst and crumbled away. With a groan of straining metal and a deafening 'crack' the entire section of walkway James and 'Granee were standing on tilted to one side causing them both to stumble and swing their arms for balance.

The elites were distracted. Sera grabbed her chance. With speed reserved for a panther, the lieutenant dashed past the elites and dropped to her knees. Sparks erupted from her armour as she slid past the pile of weapons stockpiled not far away and snatched up an assault rifle at the same time. As soon as she was armed, the panthress whipped around and laid down a long burst of fire from the hip.

Tracers flashed through the control room. Bullets went this way. Plasma went that. Shields flared and marines let out war-cries as they dashed under Sera's covering fire and grabbed their weapons. The thunder of gunfire echoed through the control room as a full blown firefight erupted.

James didn't have time to watch. The walkway he was standing on angled to one side and he lost his grip on the command console. His fingers slipped from where the index was anchored in the slot and he tumbled head over heels backwards. 'Granee was already rolling down the slope and slammed into the railing at the end. The elite's weight carried through and broke the delicate hand-rail. As he broke through he just about snatched the ledge with one hand and dangled there, his sword still crackling in his other hand.

James followed after the elite, catching the ledge with both hands as he slipped over the edge. As he hung there, dangling like a ribbon from a balloon, he made the mistake of past his boots. Far below, in the pit that formed way below the walkways hanging around the mid-section of the cavernous control room were bolts of white light. Energy surged this way and that, forming a carpet of electrifying death a hundred feet below him.

"Oh, shit." James kicked, looking sideways at where the elite was hanging.

Pulling himself up, 'Granee managed to hook one hand around another handhold and pull himself up. Being lighter though, James had quicker results. He swung to his left, then kicked his legs out right. His right boot hooked around the edge of the tilting walkway and he managed to pull himself up on three limbs. Grunting as he dragged himself up, he pressed his stomach flat against the floor and pressed his toes down hard. Slowly he managed to reach up, find a nook and drag himself back up to the main console.

He had overloaded the system, causing conduits and relays all over the control room to explode. Debris scattered this way and that. Bolts of lightning joined with the tracers of the firefight, shooting from exposed circuits and malfunctioning control panels.

And Halo was still going to fire. By his count James had another thirty seconds to undo this. Do or die...

No sooner had he thought it, the human heard a crash of energy through the noise filling the control room. He looked down to see 'Granee's energy sword slam points first into the floor at his heels. swearing, James pulled in his legs and felt his body slip down an inch before he caught himself again.

Leaving his sword where it was, the elite used it as a platform, dragging himself higher by the hilt. James kicked out and scrambled higher towards the main console above. 'Granee's mandibles parted in a guttural roar as his hands clawed upward, missing the boy's boots by a hair's breadth.

James felt a surge of hope grip his heart as his hand closed around the edge of the console. His arms screamed in agony, muscles burning like suns. Crying out, unheard over the explosions and gunfire filling the cavernous space, James pulled himself higher. His right hand reached out, inching closer and closer to where the index was plugged in. the holo-panel around the icon was glowing crimson indicating the firing of the Halo was imminent.

His foot slipped and James crashed into the console. "Fuck!" he cursed, kicking harder against the deck. His fingers stretched. He willed his arm to extend... to miraculously grow longer...

White light formed at the centre of the control room. A pillar of the light was forming, suspended within the holographic representation of Halo. It was happening! All the life...

James grabbed the hilt of the index and yanked. He'd expected it to be stuck. As a result his hand rose high above his head as the activation icon pulled free with ease.

The light faded. The crimson hazard indicators disappeared. It was safe. With the index removed the Halo wouldn't fire.

He would have actually liked to sit back and relish in the thought he had just saved all sentient life in the galaxy...

But something grabbed him.

A hand clamped around James' ankle and pulled heavily. Crying out, the human slipped off the console and slammed face down into the slanted gantry. One hand still held on to the activation icon, while the other clawed at the jagged edges of the broken walkway. His fingers curled around a sharp edge and he jolted to a halt, feeling the sharp steel dig painfully into his skin.

James looked down and saw it was 'Granee. The elite had clambered up behind him and grabbed the boy. Slowly, using the boy like a rope the heavy alien reached up with another hand and grabbed the front of James' tac-vest. The boy gritted his teeth with pain, feeling his hand go numb while the elite climbed up and knelt over the boy.

One of 'Granee's hands remained clamped on James' vest while the other was held high above his head. A burst of light on his gauntlet revealed a plasma dagger protruding from his knuckle-plate. The weapon wasn't as impressive as an energy sword, but could kill James with a single blow none the less.

"Utter your final prayers, heretic!" the massive alien barked causing his words to reverberate through the human's chest-cavity.

James looked up to where he was hanging on, seeing a thick crimson fluid drip down his fingers. He then looked at the index held in his free hand. Finally he looked the elite in the eye. His heart thudded once against his ribs as he took a slow breath.

"Mind's drawn a blank." James said plainly and truthfully. He didn't have final words, because he was determined to make sure these were not his final moments.

He let go of the edge.

Just like before the two slid down the gantry, towards the edge teetering over the pit of lethal energy crackling far below them. As they moved, 'Granee lost balance and keeled forward, skidding down the slope on top of the human. Immediately James held up the index with both hands, and felt the object shudder.

'Granee fell on the point, the sharp end of the activation icon digging into the elite's remaining good eye, piercing the soft flesh with a squelch and a flow of blood drooling down James' arms. Kicking his knee against the blinded alien's stomach, he twisted the icon sharply, unlocking the elite's death. 'Granee fell back, foul blood streaming across the side of his limp face while James reached out and snatched hold of the energy sword.

The human swung around and halted just a metre from the edge, hanging from the sword embedded into the sloping gantry while the alien slid away and out of sight. 'That takes care of the Cyclops.' He thought as he pulled himself up by the hilt of the blade and slowly scrambled back up the slope. Clumsily on hands and knees he made it up onto one of the level sections of the remaining walkways.

His troubles were far from over though.

As he made it back onto solid enough ground, he saw one of the elites recover in the chaos. It sighted the boy and charged closer, gripping an energy sword in one hand.

"Whoa!" James cried out, crawling backwards until his back crashed into the flank of the main console blocking his retreat. The terminal was flickering on and off as arcs of lightening shot this way and that across the control room. One arc slammed into the elite's shoulder, causing his shields to flare, but he kept charging.

"Whoa!" James raised his hands to protect himself, whatever good that would have done. The sword rose high, then blurred as it thrust point first at the human.

James recoiled, rolling to one side. The blade slammed into the floor beside the boy, hissing violently in steel and glass.

As the elite recovered, something flashed into the corner of James' eye. A boot slammed into the back of the elite's arm and cracked through armour and bone. With a sickening snap the alien pulled back, leaving the sword behind.

Kali was a blur of motion. She stooped, grabbed hold of the energy sword, pulled it free and swung the blade around in one graceful 'swish.' Her body flowed like water as she twirled around with the grace of a dancer, balancing on the toes of one foot. She span a full three-sixty degrees before landing in a low crouch, blade held by her side. The elite that had attacked initially followed suit, spinning away with purple tar-like blood splashing to the deck. The Covenant warrior was dead before he even landed.

Slowly the elite girl rose up and turned to look down at James. He could tell she was smiling. Her wavy hair billowed in a light breeze rushing through the control room, plasma bolts and bullets hissing one way and the other behind her. An explosion on the ceiling seemed to frame her in an angelic aura as she held out a hand to James.

He was mesmerised... and completely dumbstruck. Not the kind of dumbstruck you would get if you saw something really awesome. The kind of dumbstruck that took over a teenage boy when he was approached with a kinky proposal by a high-school crush. The chaos raging around them didn't seem to exist anymore as they gazed at each other.

"Hi." She greeted breathlessly over the rush of battle echoing in the background. "I'm Kali."

James half grinned, gazing into her eyes. He couldn't do much more than that for a moment, just staring at the beautiful elite who had just saved his life. Even dappled with blood she looked gorgeous, her figure sleek and flowing like her silky plume. Slowly he reached up and delicately placed his hand in hers.

"I know... imean..." James shut his eyes and quickly shook his head. "Uh... hi... I'm James."

"I know." Kali replied, before quickly shaking her head realising she'd made the same mistake the human just had. "Er... I mean, nice to meet you." they were both quiet, frozen like that for what felt like an eternity, before Kali asked. "So, uh... James... you got a phone number?"

"KALI!" Foster suddenly shouted from across the room. He was standing with Sera, Zim and a few of the marines at a doorway on the far end of the control room. It was an access way that led to the landing pads on the far end of the mountain he control room was built into. A back way out of this mess. "THIS IS NEITHER THE TIME, NOR THE PLACE!!! C'MON!!!"

"Right." Kali breathed before her hand clamped tight around James'.

She ran, dragging the human in her wake. He found himself pulled to his feet, and pumped his legs as fast as he could to keep up with her stride. Not only was she fluid, she was pretty strong for a girl of her petite design. And quick too.

Dragged along by the elite girl, James made it to the exit in no time at all. The bolts of plasma directed at them missed wide, hissing against the floor at their heels as they disappeared after the others into the maintenance access way. Kali didn't let go, leading James through the dimly lit corridor, winding left and right through the core of the mountain. There were no branching hallways, just infinite lengths of light strips and windows looking down over rooms containing crackling power-conduits on the verge of overload. Each explosion rocked the ground and disrupted the dust, sending it drizzling from above and down James' neck.

Before long they rushed out into the cold mountain air.

The landing area was a circular pad hanging from the side of a wide gantry clinging on to the side of the mountain. The valley floor ended in a wide river about a hundred metres below them, the river rushing out into a waterfall that opened up into grassy plains beyond the mountains that concealed the control room. Dotted along the gantry were UNSC cargo boxes, metal ammo crates and a single forklift stood beside the door they emerged from.

Waiting on the landing pad was a pelican drop ship. The bulky carrier's jets flared and scattered clouds of snow that had settled on the pad while a second drop ship hung in an orbit over the landing zone. Marines were piling onto the vehicle, one of whom manned the heavy machine gun hanging out the back of the open troop-bay. Sera, Zim and Foster were taking covering positions, the panthress waving Kali and James over.

As they ran into their midst, James let his hand slip from Kali's grip and caught his breath, panting and wheezing heavily. Watching him, Kali giggled.

"You okay?" she asked.

James rested his hands on his waistline and nodded quickly. "Yeah... whoo... I'm good." He managed to force out between heavy pants.

As they walked up to the waiting pelican, the crew chief hung out the troop-bay. "We only got space for one more!" he announced, his voice echoing in James' radio.

That was when hell broke loose again. Plasma slammed against the side of the pelican and the marines returned fire. The Covenant had caught up and were pouring out onto the landing area.

Time to make a decision. Kali was the most important one still standing on the ground. James quickly ducked down and pointed the alien girl towards the drop ship. "You go!" he told her. "We'll get the next one!"

His battle rifle kicked as Foster aimed for the forklift the incoming Covenant grunts were hiding behind. Peering through his scope, the human let loose a burst on the fuel tank. Bullet holes punched through the metal with a loud 'crack.' Jets of orange fire then spewed from the holes.

A moment later the forklift exploded, throwing the _grunt_s over the edge of the walkway, the few not killed by the initial explosion now plummeting to their death.

The lieutenant glanced over his shoulder and saw Kali was about to argue with James. The kid was right to let Kali take that last seat. She was more important to the UNSC than any of them. "Listen to him! Go!" the officer commanded.

Kali glanced between the two, then looked James in the eye for a sustained moment.

"You still owe me a phone number." Kali said slowly before she de-activated the energy. Twisting around the elite girl planted her hands on the steel ramp and mantled onto the drop ship. The second she was on, James heard the engines of the pelican power up and whined louder. The landing gear lifted off the landing pad and the nose angled downward, sending the drop ship spinning out of range. As it moved away, the second pelican moved in to land.

"Here, bro!" Foster reached back and pulled an assault rifle free from the holster on his back. "Just keep shooting!"

As the second pelican throttled appropriately for landing, James took the weapon. It was an MA37 assault rifle, a common bulpup army infantry weapon. He accepted the rifle by the front-grip, then turned it over and pressed the stock against his shoulder. Apart from the odd design sporting the mag-well in the stock, the weapon handled similar to his old M5J.

He flicked off the safety, aimed and fired. When it came to guns, there often wasn't more to it than just that. The Covenant streaming out onto the LZ faltered and pulled back. Some jackals angled their shields to provide cover for the infantry behind them, but the barrage of projectiles was enough to hold them back.

The pelican touched down and Zim stood. "Moving!" he barked as he twisted around and jumped on board.

Sera was second up, leaping clean into the drop ship. Foster whirled and leapt after her. James was lowering his rifle and turning when he heard a zealot's scream.

He double took, hesitating for a split second before looking back to the doorway the Covenant were attempting to emerge from. Two jackals sat hunched behind their shields. One grunt was screaming, leaping from the cover provided by his fellows. The squat little creature was sporting a fuel rod cannon mounted on his shoulder. The tip was glowing radioactive green, indicating a shot was charged and ready to fire.

"Incoming!" a voice shouted somewhere in the distance.

James dove to one side, disappearing into the shadow of a wide ammo crate.

Two bright green pulses of radioactive plasma shot into the air. One sizzled past James and disappeared into the sky. It proceeded to explode, just a few feet from the nose of Kali's pelican. Armour warped and melted. The cockpit window shattered inwards, a thousand daggers slicing into the pilot. The vehicle angled away, then dropped out of sight, trailing thick plumes of black smoke.

"KALI!" James yelled pushing himself up onto one knee in time to see the pelican drop out of sight. "Kali's pelican is down! I repeat, VIP drop ship down!"

Just then the second green pulse slammed into the side of the pelican holding Sera, Zim and Foster. It slammed into the right-hand engine and caused the vehicle to sway to one side, twirling around involuntarily from the subsequent explosions along the fuel lines.

A master alarm was audible over the comms, whining as the pilot fought to keep the pelican steady. "Holy shit! I'm losin' her!" he cried as the pelican whirled around on a central axis and hovered a good dozen metres from landing platform. Where it hung facing James he could see the pilot's forehead glistening with sweat, and Sera hanging on somewhere beside the man.

"No, James is still down there. Turn ba..." Sera started.

"Negative! Pilot, get clear! Don't you dare come back!" James interrupted, shouting over the whine of plasma fire distorting the air around him.

"James, no!" Even as Sera cried out, visibly punching the pilot in the shoulder, the pelican's nose angled away and the thrusters glowed white hot. "Don't you dare, you bastard!" - even still, the pelican pulled away into the sky, and out of weapons range. - "James, we can't just leave you!"

"You know this is how it has to be." James explained, lowering his voice as he tiredly slumped against the crate he was using for cover. He didn't even care about the plasma slamming into the steel just inches from his head anymore. Oddly enough he'd grown used to it. "Kali is down. We've lost too many important people already."

"... as soon as we get a new pelican I'm coming back for you!"

"Don't make a boy a promise... if you know you can't keep it." James gave a deep sigh as he killed the comms altogether.

That was it. The pelican was almost completely out of sight now, a mere grey speck against the clear blue sky. He'd done it now. He'd signed his own death-warrant. And for what? Sacrifice himself for the lives of a few? One reserve grunt dies, Zim, Foster and Sera live. Was it worth it?

Hell yeah.

He wondered what the folks in his home town would think when the news came in. James died in the line of duty. They probably wouldn't believe their ears. James wasn't the hero type, they knew that. How would they remember him? James Trent, the quiet kid they pushed around in school that nobody really knew? Or would everyone speak at his empty-casket funeral, spouting lies of how they loved him and will miss him forever, just to atone for their past sins?

It seemed irrelevant.

James checked the ammo counter on his rifle, then lifted his head a little. 18. The plasma fire showering his cover thinned out. He heard footsteps. The Covenant troops were no longer pinned down and were closing in. The human shouldered his MA37 tightly, twisting around and balancing himself in a steady crouch. Every ounce of his being was telling him now was the time to retreat.

Regardless of what others thought of him, or would do to his memory, only one thing mattered to James right now. Wimpy little Trent who couldn't shoot straight, or build the confidence to do what needed to be done was gone. The new James Trent had arrived, rather late than never...

So there he sat on an alien ring-world, enemies closing in all around. Private Third Class James Trent. Eighteen years old. A rifle cradled across his chest. The burden of death weighing down on his shoulders...

But still ready to go out with a bang.