Operation: F.O.E. Hammer

"Thank you for coming here, as we could really use some help," Captain Lasky said, looking at two individuals. In front of him was the famous Doctor Bailey, and the infamous Walter A. Law. Both were billionaires, and both had a special relationship with the UNSC. They had served the UNSC in quite a special way, which was to provide an extra reserve of soldiers to call upon when needed. These reserves were two organizations; the Freelancers and the Legion.

Lasky glanced at Doctor Bailey, fairly glad she was here. She was a genius, known for improving upon even the most sophisticated technology. Not only that but she amiable and seemed to have passed that onto her employees,  the Freelancer Spartans. They were excellent fighters, among the best Humanity had to offer. A great boost to morale whenever they appeared, they fought to protect the innocent, efficiently eliminating threats to Human space. They represented the nobler side of Humanity, that which had humanity.

Then Lasky glanced at Walter, better known as War and fittingly so. No one really knew where he came from, or why he could defeat Spartans so easily in combat. What Lasky DID know was that the Legion of War was a very shady but necessary organization. They had provided an immense pool of Spartans to draw from, and even their regular personnel were great soldiers. They fought the Covenant with the same cruelty the invaders had shown Humanity. They were the darker side of Humanity, the ones who showed what Humanity was willing to do to survive.

But both served the UNSC as Humanity was where their primary allegiance laid.

"We picked up some alien activity around a celestial object, turned out to be a Halo ring," Lasky said, looking down at the holographic table.

"And you wish us to seize control of it?" War asked, gesturing to the red dots scattered across the ring.

"Yes, but decommissioning the ring is the primary objective. If we can do that first, then that's what we do. Complete control of the ring isn't necessary, at least not yet"

"Yeah, Walter. Who cares if your flag isn't on it when we turn it off?" Bailey added.

"Then let us hope the alien scum don't hole up where we need to go and start begging for mercy, because we will eventually take control" War replied. Lasky frowned, he could see the beginnings of an ideological argument. He sighed before speaking.

"Focus people. Walter is right. Once we decommission the ring we need focus on clearing the ring of any hostile factions. We don't want anyone restarting the thing, or the Flood spreading after we're done. The infection could spread onto personnel of a ship and get off.

If you have enough troops to spare, placing some defences around these areas would be good," Lasky pointed at various yellow areas of the holographic map.

"We don't want the Covenant releasing more infection forms before we can secure the whole ring either. Any questions?" Lasky looked up at  Bailey and Walter. Bailey spoke first.

"Why not just blow the ring up like the Master Chief?"

"Because ONI would like to set up shop, as they did on Installation 03. There's a lot to be learned from the Forerunners. Any more questions?" Lasky replied, ending the conversation about the ring's fate short.

"Why do some red dots have black outlines and others white?" Walter asked.

"Yeah," Bailey added.

"We've detected the same Covenant faction found on Requiem on the ring, but they seem to be warring with another alien faction made up of Brutes, Drones, and Skirmishers," Lasky replied.

"Do you know why they're fighting?" Bailey asked.

"No doubt a feud with its roots in the Great Schism of the Covenant Empire," War replied.

"Most likely. ONI reports say that the Elites and the Brutes are still going at it, and this new faction does contain the same species found on the Loyalist side of the schism," Lasky added.

"Then we can assume them to be hostiles?" War asked, already aware of the answer.

"Yes, the Loyalists and Jul 'Mdama's followers both believe in the eradication of Humanity so don't take any chances," Lasky said, looking at Bailey. He knew Walter would have no issues, but Bailey might. Probably not, but it was best to get the point across now.

"Hey don't look at me! If they shoot first, then I won't be holding back!" Bailey exclaimed.

"Where do we land?" Walter asked, gesturing to the map.

"Reports state that this seems like a good area to set up a base," Lasky began, showing them a green area.

"It's fairly isolated but not too far from the action. We can use it as out main forward base to launch attacks. We can also allot both of you one firebase for now, as I know you both have a sizeable number of troops here," Lasky said, pointing to two more green areas.

War observed them carefully, looking at the area. It was a circular clearing, surrounded by high cliffs. There was an opening at the top, which would force any invaders to funnel through it, removing the advantage of numbers.

War did notice one curious little detail. The UNSC base was the farthest back, directly across from the opening. The Freelancer and Legion bases were on the left and right sides, respectively, of the opening. If anyone was going to be hit first, it would be the Legion or Freelancers.

But the clearing had one major weakness. It left them wide open to an aerial attack.

"Captain, I suggest you bring a large number of aircraft and anti-air equipment, as the opening provides little to no protection from an aerial assault,"

"So we've noticed, which is why have Hornets patrolling the area,"

"Captain Lasky, those Hornets are not going to do much against a Phantom, much less a Lich. We need real air support," War replied, fairly calm with a slight tone of annoyance.

"Oh yeah, and what do you think we should use?" Bailey asked. Lasky nodded.

"Sparrowhawks, Skyhawks, and Vultures. Use the unmanned drones for surveillance and patrolling beyond the opening," War replied.

Bailey protested. "Those are outdated and-"

"And far more effective than the newer Hornet and that dreadful Falcon! These aircraft were being built when the Human economy was strong, and as we all know the UNSC was only getting weaker as the Great War progressed. Which is why Humanity was forced to comprise between power and cost, leaning towards cost," War replied gruffly.

"I was going to say few in number..." Bailey muttered.

"Well you're both right. The UNSC wasn't as strong as it was at the beginning of the war and every planet the Covenant glassed was resources lost. We have but a few of each, the rest of our aircraft are Hornets. Where are we going to get more?" Lasky replied. War smiled.

"From the Legion. ONI has contracted us to build and manufacture these aircraft as we have the funds to do so. The UEG and UNSC have to rebuild Humanity's infrastructure, so it fell upon us to aid in progressing the military,"

"And how many do you have?" Lasky asked, a little concerned he'd been left out of the loop. He could see the same concern on Bailey's face.

"About a thousand or so. All of which have been brought here today, aboard our super carrier,"

"Excuse me?" Lasky asked.

"Yeah?" Bailey added.

"Surely you saw it? It's a 3 and a half kilometre long supercarrier?" War asked.

"I assumed it was ours..." Lasky asked.

"Why do you need a supercarrier?" Bailey asked.

"For situations like these where a large number of Legionnaires are needed," War replied.

"Now you're just showing off," Bailey huffed. Lasky looked at Bailey, a little concerned with the Legion's situation as well.

"Anything you'd like to add Doctor?"  Lasky asked. Bailey smiled.

"Well I don't mean to brag buuuut we've sorta began mass production of the Labris Mk. II, and we just so happen to have a couple hundred on board our Freelancer carrier... which has shielding by the way," Bailey replied. War's eyebrows raised in surprise, the Labris was quite the mech. Far superior to that thing called the Mantis. The mention of energy shields was quite a surprise as well, but War had substituted shielding for a metal alloy that could withstand plasma.

"We've also got a ton of Spear Repeaters and our best Freelancer agents ready to go at a moment's notice," Bailey smirked, knowing that the Legion didn't have much to match the Spear Repeater.

"And if I may inquire, what of the Fist of Sparta?" War asked. That was a weapon he could applaud the Doctor for.

"Oh, don't worry we brought that bad boy along for the ride. Just in case we end up facing something huge, like a Scarab, without much support," Bailey replied. War grinned, as he was about to do something he rarely did.

He began to clap slowly, a genuine smile on his face.

"Well done Ms. Bailey. I see you've come prepared. Despite our differences, I believe that today we can show the galaxy what a united Humanity can do!" War reached his hand, offering a handshake. The Doctor took it cautiously, before shaking it.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess you guys might be somewhat useful today,” Bailey replied.

Lasky coughed.

"Now that show and tell is over, how about we get some boots on the ground?" He said.

"Then I shall be off with all due haste. Prepare you broadswords Captain, we don't know if either alien faction will attack our transports," War said, admitting that the Legion lacked space fighters.

"Same thing here Captain. We may have a bunch of fancy gadgets but you're still the main part of this operation!" She said before exiting the room. War merely nodded at the Captain before heading off to his personal pelican.

Lasky sighed when the doors shut. Those two were day and night, but at least they had enthusiastically agreed to wipe out all  the inhabitants on the ring. Lasky reflected on the odd psychopathic nature of their goal for a second, thankful that the UNSC was in charge. He activated his coms systems.

"Commander Palmer? Admiral Blaine? Prepare the Spartans, we're going in," Lasky ordered.

Back on the Legion’s supercarrier a crowd of Spartans was gathered around War and Manuel. The majority of them were Spartan IIs and IIIs, a few IVs mixed in as well. To supplement these number were Black Guard and Enforcers, both of which were painted in a black and red scheme to mimic their general.

The crowd numbered about 600 or so, and this was only the Legion’s “superior soldiers” as they were collectively known. All were valuable fighters, but each had a special quality to them. The Spartans for their prowess on the battlefield, the Enforcers for their sheer intelligence, and the Black Guard for their sheer numbers.

“Black Guard!” War shouted, capturing their attention. They turned to face him and saluted in sync, their armoured boots clacking.

“Head to hangar 0, and prepare for take off!” War shouted, all 300 Black Guard barking and howling as they ran off, grabbing their weapons off the racks of the armoury they were in. When they were gone, War led the Spartans and Enforcers to another hangar, known as hangar 2. When they arrived within, War walked to a balcony above as his Spartans and Enforcers headed towards the Pelicans, checking their weapons once again. All except one, the General.

Manuel stood next to war, observing the troops, his troops, as they prepared. He noticed a few things off about them. They checked their weapons a few seconds faster than usual, they checked that they worked over and over again, they ran checks on their HUDs, they carried as much ammunition as they could on them and into the pelicans, they reviewed squad tactics with each other and with other squads. Most people would have thought this was simply normal preparation, but it wasn’t. It was over preparation.

Legionnaires only had to review squad tactics once. Legionnaires only had to double check their weapons. Legionnaires did not use excessive amounts of ammunition because they rarely missed. Legionnaires didn't rush when checking their weapons. All these things were true on any other given day.

But today, Legionnaires were nervous. Manuel hypothesized it was because they were entering what was essentially a five sided war. Humanity was about to enter the fray against two alien armies, an alien virus that infects anything and everything, and killer robots who classified anyone but them as invaders. It was quite different from the conventional two sided war, or even the three sided conflict the Great War had evolved into. With no room for alliances and no room for failure, Humanity HAD to win. Not survive, but WIN unconditionally. It was quite a lot to take in.

“Legionnaires!” Manuel shouted. They turned around to face him.

“Why are you nervous? We are Legionnaires, warriors of Humanity. Remember who you serve!”

“WAR!” they shouted, aware War was indeed in the room with them.

“What do you live for?” he asked, raising his fist.

“WAR!” they shouted, raising their own fists.

“What are you best at?”

“WAR!” they shouted, raising their fists yet again.

“Where are we off to?” he asked.

“WAR!” they shouted, cheering as they boarded the Pelicans.

Manuel smiled underneath his helmet, startled when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to find War grinning.

“Well done General. That was quite the morale boost! Now go, your squad awaits you!” War exclaimed. Manuel nodded and leapt down from the balcony, making his way to the Pelican where his squad awaited. When he got there, Miguel clasped his shoulder, shaking it.

“Great job mang, but you should have said ‘we’ instead of ‘you’! Don’t think you’ll be sitting back and relaxing!” He said, closing the back door of the Pelican.

“I wouldn't dream of it,” Manuel replied as the Pelican descended towards the ring, UNSC Broadswords swooping in and escorting the Pelicans as they got closer and closer.

"The stress test is complete. Your new armor is ready for fitting, Agent."

Nine nodded in response to the technician. He flexed his hands and rolled his shoulders, testing his bodysuit's elasticity. It fit comfortably. New suits normally took a while to break in.

His bodysuit was jet black with sparse brown markings. He thumped his chest once with his fist. Despite its form fitting nature, it was very comfortable. After years of working in Mk VI armor, he was afraid this newer model would spoil him.

"Step in whenever you're ready, but we're pressed for time. Your pelican is waiting."

"Yeah, sorry. No problem, man." Nine waved his hand and nodded to the man. "Nice coat, by the way."

The technician, a man in his early thirties, looked at his lab coat, oddly flattered by the statement. "...Thanks. I got it last we-"

"Hurry it up. We're pressed for time." Nine gave the technician a jovial grin. "My pelican is waiting."

The technician nodded, chuckling to himself despite the tense situation. The ship was rapidly approaching a genuine shitstorm. At least HE wasn't on the front-lines.

Armor Installation In Progress.

Nine's grieves were first, his boots locking into place the moment he stepped onto the platform. He felt the metal attach to him.

Nine looked around the armor fitting. He spotted Jorge, being consulted by Legionnaire Technicians.

"We've taken the liberty of upgrading your primary weapons. Your turret's fire rate has been increased, along with its resistance to overheating."

Jorge inspected the gun. "Right. Thanks."

Grieves installed. Beginning limb attachments.

Nine nodded approval, happy to see the Freelancers and Legion working together. It was a decent step towards putting an end to the conflict on the ring.

The UNSC was an angry father, and the Freelancer-Legion Alliance was the BELT.

Nine looked down at the armor being installed on his legs. His armor, as per usual, was built with pure physical capability in mind, combining hydrolic enhancement with energy shielding. There was only as much ballistic protection as nessesary, so protecting himself was HIS job. His undersuit was built strong enough to take a bullet regardless, so he didn't sweat the lack of cumbersom armor plates.

He found his armor aesthetically pleasing. Doctor Bailey had designed it specifically for him, and although vanity was of the most minimal concern, when stacked against his survival in the field, Nine fancied she'd outdone herself.

Limb protection attached. Beginning chest, back, and spinal plating.

The chest plate fell into place. He could feel the suit making contact with his nervous system.

"AH. That's the stuff." Nine never felt naked without his suit, but having it on gave him a sense of power. This suit felt much more flexible and light than the last.

"Bailey didn't get a chance to talk through the changes to this suit. Mind telling me what's different?" Nine turned his head to the technician, as his chestplate was bolted into position.

The technician looked up at Nine, glancing down at his console. "The Doctor said you'd be able to feel the difference. It's more lightweight, and uses a better conduction material. It's built to increase your strength by a small percentage greater than your last suit by not having to support the weight of so many hard points. We've raised the resiliance, speed, and strength, but decreased the weight."

Nine nodded, as he was lowered to the ground. He took his helmet.The suit whirred to life, as he pulled his helmet onto his head.

"Enegy shielding online...operator health is nominal. I'm breaking the connection." The suit chimed gently, letting Nine know that it was completely combat ready, weapons systems, ammunition, Heads Up Display, and all. "Suit's yours, captain. Permission to speak freely?"

Nine nearly gaffowed at the formality, but nodded to the technician. "You can always speak freely with me, man. What's up?"

The technician nodded. "Nice suit. It beats the shit out of my labcoat by a longshot. Kick some ass, Captain!"

Nine saluted the man, and began making his way to his pelican.

"I really hope the broadswords have us covered..." Nine heard a Freelancer soldier remark as he approached the aircraft. He stepped into it.

"See? I told you we were working with one of the top agents!" One of the soldiers grinned.

"Get your war faces on, people!" Nine clapped his hands together. "We're going down on a RING today. This ain't gonna be a cake walk, but we're FREELANCERS. We're gonna crack some damn ribs down there!"

"OORAH!" The men strapped themselves in, and their Pelican took off.

Soon, it was outside of the bay. Nine's HUD displayed friendly tags in every direction. He had no idea the scope of this invasion until now.

The Legion's Carrier and the Infinity spewed forth Halcyon class warships. From them came Pelicans, Albatross, Darters, it was impossible to keep track of the variety. Each carrier class ship held warriors. Legion, UNSC, Freelancers, and most potently, Spartans, all ready to knock heads together.

The Rings were always a serious matter. This was one of the first times we had come ready to take one by FORCE.

"... UpperCut Online... Run Shield Test Sequence?"

"No."

"Invert your HUD targeting?"

"Absolutely not, Cor."

Corina chuckled to herself as she completed software tests faster than Vance could ever hope to think. The A.I. worked with maximum proficiency for a Smart model A.I.

"Software check completed. Suit is 100% combat ready. You?"

Vance lowered his arms and stepped past the technician who seemed to always suit Vance up. As he passed, the two bumped fists lightly. "Eh. I'd say about 83%. I'm not nearly drunk enough."

"You know the mission statement? What we're doing on that ring and whatnot?"

"I got the jest of it. Aliens, robots, bugs, and some sort of skin disease versus us. We're good." Vance smiled to himself as he grabbed and loaded his shotgun and magnum, snapping them onto the weapon holding plates on his hip and back.

"I doubt it's that simple. Anyways, one thing I want to say before we get into combat. It's serious." Corina said, actual concern in her voice.

"Shoot."

"Please, for the love of life, keep your helmet on during the damn mission."

"Well, see, I might just drop down without it now like a stupid shock trooper in a firefight or something." Vance said, obviously not effected by the comment, but acted offended.

The conversation practically ended there as Vance stepped onto his pelican, half tempted to fall asleep on the ride there. He kept his "I don't care" bravado on at all times during the last few days,but if someone could look through the helmet right now, they'd see a face purely full of terror and dreaded anticipation.

"Aura of Armaggedon is away Captain Lasky." Blaine spoke to Lasky's hologram.

"We'll make sure the job gets done quickly and efficiently."

Ending the brief conversation with War, Bailey, and Lasky, Blaine turned towards his view port, peering out at the giant structure. Eight years, eight years since Reach had fallen, and the Pillar of Autumn had first discovered it. The structure that was a turning point during the Great War, the one structure filled with many destinies. The cryptic construct stood as a beacon of hope for many species, but death to all.

For Blaine, it had been an experience he would never forget. Staring at the ring world, after all this time, was surreal. Memories of the conflict on the fifth ring, when the Arbiter had successfully killed Tartarus, where the ring nearly fired and obliterated every known being in the galaxy. Where he first encountered the Flood. Clenching his fists, he would never forget the sheer terror that he, a headstrong Spartan II, felt as his Marines around him were transformed into abnormal monstrosities.

"Never thought it'd come to this." Blaine muttered under his breath.

"What was that sir?" Corporal Swartz replied.

"Thinking to myself, at ease, Corporal." Blaine ordered, placing his hands behind his back.

"Just recalling the last time I was on one of these things. All that was gained from them, and all that was lost because of them."

Glancing down at his breast armor pocket, he pulled out Ben's tags, clenching them tightly.

"When I was on Requiem, things still seemed... new. When I was on Halo, it was apparent that there was some age to the construct. But after witnessing the two Forerunners I did on Requiem, it's surreal knowing that these were built for our entire annihilation, only so that the Flood couldn't live." Blaine paused.

"Viewing both extremes, both sides of the conflict. It's troubling. One built the rings, but aimed to preserve us. The other built the rings, planning to wipe out the entirety of Humanity, leaving the rest of the species to live out their lives."

"Careful there, Admiral, you're starting to sound like a Legionaire." War spoke behind him.

"War." Blaine nodded curtly.

"You share almost the same view-points as I do." War spoke, his hologram walking around the Spartan.

"But your compassion for your foes, the mercy you would spare to extra-terrestrials, is what sets us apart."

"Among other things." Blaine growled.

"I know what you do to get people motivated into believing your every word."

"And yet." War's eyes flickered red for a moment.

"You do nothing to stop me. A shame, really. I find you'd make the perfect General, aside from Manuel, of course. Perhaps when this is over, you would consider joining the Legion. Abandon the UNSC and become something even greater. Even John has left the UNSC-"

"Agent Nine and the rest of the Freelancers are affliates of the UNSC, as are you and your 'associates' Walter." Blaine gritted his teeth.

"This is non-negotiable. Blaine, over and out."

"He sounds like a real ass hole." Swartz cringed his nose. "His Xenophobia really freaks me out."

"It's not just Xenophobia, it's fascism." Ensign Reznov shook his head.

"Enough side conversations!" Blaine barked.

"We're burning time here people, let's get to the mission ahead. Send word to the other three Halcyon's, let'm know that operation: F.O.E Hammer is ago."

Reznov and Swartz nodded, as the rest of the deck crew furiously typed on their keyboards and the controls of the ship.

"Oh, and have them prepare Spartans Naomi, David, Jorge, Katie, Josh, Phil, Scott, and Kayla. They'll form Fireteam Fortress. Send Spartan Darryl to the vehicle bay, he'll be accompanying me." Blaine continued, standing by the door.

"Ensign Reznov, you have the deck. I've got a Pelican to board. Have our four ships prepare for battle with the Diciples' fleet. Best of luck folks, and stay safe."

The Pelican descended slowly, being accompanied by Broadswoards until reaching the air space above the clearing. Here was where the Legion Frigates unloaded their plethora of aircraft, many of it not seen by UNSC forces in ages.

As the Pelicans descended the Legionnaires leapt out of the blood trays, setting up a perimeter and establishing communications with the Frigates. Eventually one frigate lowered the prefabricated buildings the UNSC had provided them with, arranging them as seen fit.

The central building was surrounded by a huge wall, with three turrets on each side. Between the protective wall and the central building was enough room for two barracks, an infirmary, three air pads, and a vehicle depot.

Regular human Legionnaires heled set up the area while the Spartans did the heavy lifting. Eventually the work was done and they were ready for action. The Frigates left with their Broadswoard escorts, leaving the Pelicans behind in case they were needed for mass transport. Manuel surveyed the action and then gathered his troops for a quick meeting.

"Alright, so we are to defend this base with the final objective of taking this ring.

Black Guard, I want you to defend this base at all costs. Understood?" Manuel asked. They nodded and ran away, climbing the turrets and walls of the base to take their positions.

"Now, a select few Spartans will accompany me to meet with UNSC forces at the far end of the clearing. The rest of you will wait here and await further orders. Let us show the alien scum what it means to threaten Humanity!" Manuel shouted, fist raised in the air.

"AOU! AOU! AOU!" The soldiers chanted, using the ancient war cry of the Greek Spartans. Manuel smiled underneath his helmet and pointed to a few Spartans: Miguel, Siegfried, Sebastian, Maxentius, Yuda and Trent. They were a few of War's "inner circle", those whom he trusted more than other Spartans. Needless to say, Manuel was in this group as well.

The seven Spartans walked across the clearing to the UNSC's base, ready to rendezvous with the forces there.

The Pelican bumped and fumbled through the clouds. Soldiers apprehensively looked to each-other.

"What? Scared or something?" Nine snapped his fingers, leaning forward. "You should have been in the OLDER model Pelicans. Those things rattled like an old woman riding horseback." Nine pointed to the ceiling. "At the drop of a penny, you'd be bashing your skull on the top of those things. This is a SMOOTH ride."

There was scattered, nervous laughter.

"C'mon, people. What's different? What are we scared of? There are people on our team who can replace TANKS. We're going to win this thing."

The men and women onboard the pelican seemed to lighten up a bit at Nine's optimism. "You really think we got a shot against, like, ten types of alien?"

"Hey, NOBODY likes getting shot, and we probably brought the most bullets." Nine grinned. "Besides, the other guys have been fighting over this ring for WEEKS. We're coming in fresh. Between US, the Legion, and the UNSC, this may not be a cake walk, but I'd say we can win it. But you folks gotta be willing to dig in your boots and fight for it."

Nine drew and pointed his knife. "That means follow a few rules. STAY TOGETHER. Five of you at a decent range can bring down any alien if you fight smart. STAY CALM. Shaking in your boots won't do shit for you, so breathe, stay light on your feet, and observe the enemy with a cool head. Don't JUMP at your shadow, observe it. Don't SCREAM, just growl."

The soldiers nodded.

"And if there's a Spartan on your team, don't let 'em do all the work. ALWAYS pull your weight. Got it? I can't promise you're all going home, but you can make a difference here. That's why you signed onto this outfit. Freelancers make a difference for GOOD."

"I hear we're teamed up with Jorge for this assignment." One of the women noted the fact with cautious optimism. "Agent Two?"

Nine chortled.

"Forget what I said. Just stay behind him and let him do all the work and you'll all be fine."

"AGENT NINE!" The Pilot looked back to him. "We're above the UNSC encampment! Your stop!"

Nine nodded. "You folks tell Jorge I said hello!"

The ramp opened, and Nine hopped out.

The light seared  his eyes, but he quickly adjusted. He was twenty feet off the ground and falling quickly. Without a care in the world, he landed, cracking the hard dirt. He looked around. UNSC forces had already dug in, small mobile bases erected. He could see commanders setting up tables and opening orbital map grids. He could smell dust coming up from vehicle wheels.

Nine lightly jogged across the base towards what he presumed to be his objective. He stopped and jogged in place as a tank passed.

"Another Spartan!" An australian sounding man declared, as he spotted Nine.

"I think that one's a Freelancer." American. Mid thirties, most likely. Nine could tell voices well. Situational awareness was one of his strong-suits. "He's the one from the Ganymede outfit."

"Spartan John! My kid has an action figure of that guy!" A gruff sounding woman seemed genuinely excited to see him. Nine wondered if he should wave, but decided not to. He had appointments to keep, so he waited for the small train of vehicles to pass, as he listened to the conversation behind him.

"You mean the Master Chief? He's smaller than I figured." The australian struck a nerve with Nine pretty much immediately, souring the Spartan's mood.

Nine turned around. "I can HEAR, you know!"

"Oh shit." The gruff sounding woman held back laughter, as Nine whirled around, his face flushing with embarrassment and anger.

"I think he heard you. And that's not the Chief. The Chief's green, and like, ten feet tall." The middle aged man addressed Nine. "NO OFFENSE, SIR."

"None taken." Nine grumbled loud enough to be heard, waiting for the stream of vehicles to pass. Soon, his path was clear. ...Fuck you guys. Nine jogged on. Haven't seen a single enemy, and I ALREADY want this day to be over. Fuck me.

Soon, he spotted Manuel, and his Legionnaire squad.

Nine walked beside him. "I hear I'm working with you today. Good to see you, sir." Typically, Nin would lead off with a smile and declare the name, 'Manny," in a bombastic voice, but Manuel was quite formal. He was with his squad, and Nine didn't want to undermine his authority. Nine saluted formally, and walked with them quietly.

"Doctor Bailey sends her regards. It's good to see our respective companies playing together nicely for once."

Nine looked up, and watched as several aerial vehicles screamed past. With his superior vision, he could make out the model of the ships. Unmanned drones. Some armed.

All with Legion insignias.

"...Speaking of PLAYING, War really brought some serious toys. You guys are just as committed to winning this thing as we are. No surprise there."

Nine followed Manuel's lead.

"Glad to have you aboard John," Manuel replied, continuing on his path to the UNSC base. The other Legionnaires behind Manuel looked at each other. Most people didn't walk alongside the general whenever they felt like it. The general either had to or want to talk to you, so clearly there was some sort of history between the Freelancer and the Legion's general.

Or it was more likely that the Freelancer simply didn't know the unwritten rules of the Legion, so they let it go by without incident.

"The Legion comes as prepared as possible for all its battles," Manuel said, observing the aircraft above. He watched some UNSC Marines helping to set up anti-air turrets, in case one vehicle slipped through the Legion's air defence. Not a terrible idea, but he believed they wouldn't be necessary. Some of these vehicle could go at supersonic speeds, something no Covenant vehicle seen to date had ever been seen doing.

"I haven't seen Doctor Bailey for a long time, so I suppose you can send her my regards. Speaking of her, it is a nice change of pace to have the Freelancers onboard with the objective of the eradication of alien life here," Manuel replied, slowly approaching a growing crowd of Spartan IVs. They were basically the UNSC's attempt mass produce Spartans, not realizing that in doing so they were trading in quality for quantity. Or maybe they DID know but simply didn't care? Either way Manuel disapproved of it, forcing Spartan IVs in the Legion to train daily with their more serious counterparts. Hopefully something would rub off, and they would become warriors instead of mere soldiers.

"You know this guy?" Miguel said, interrupting Manuel's train of thought. He turned to face his most trusted confident, and oldest friend.

"Yes, I do. I've worked many times with the Freelancer, during my absence that I'm sure you remember" he turned to John, aware that he could most likely hear what they were saying.

"John, this is Legionnaire 325," Manuel tuned back to Miguel.

"Miguel this Freelancer Agent Nine," Manuel said, stopping at the very back of a crowd of UNSC troops, "Spartan" Sarah Palmer at the front of the crowd preparing to get things going.

Nine extended his hand for Miguel to shake, and the Legionnaire took it. Nine noticed a strange anomaly in Miguel's armor immediately. He could feel extra plating. Something mechanical in nature. It didn't seem to IMPEDE the Legionnaire's hand, but the movement was a tiny bit slower, harder, and more methodical.

A weapon in his sleeve?

In that same instant, Nine patted Miguel's hand with his free hand, giving a two handed shake. Innocuous, but it told Nine EXACTLY what he wanted to know.

No, it's definitely on his hand.

Nine nodded his head, and gave Miguel a smile.

I'll have to watch this guy and see what this thing does. The Legion may have some decent weapon and armor ideas. We may be working together, but there's no harm in poaching a few of good 'ol Walter's tech specs.

Nine disengaged the handshake, and turned to face Palmer. She was about to give a speech, but stepped into the midst of the crowd to PERSONALLY greet Manuel and Nine. "Commander. It's good to see you."

Sarah Palmer turned her head. "Agent Nine. You haven't gotten smaller."

"You haven't gotten nicer." Nine grumbled. It was a good natured tease, as Palmer was fond of. In her first introduction to the Master Chief himself, her demeanor was similar, if not a bit more tense.

Palmer saluted Manuel. "It's good to see you two putting boots on the ground. The Freelancers and Legionnaires are really sending living legends."

"The majority of our Spartans, Spec Combat Agents, and resources are here, ma'am." Nine nodded his head. "The Freelancers DELIVER."

"You don't have a problem with our operation? This is a Blowthrough op. You Freelancers usually don't do slaughter." Palmer glanced at Manuel.

Nine shrugged his shoulders. "The aliens here SIGNED their death warrants. Unless they beg for mercy or flee, we're here to stomp necks." Nine patted Manuel on the shoulder. "Unless Manny has a problem with that. He's quite the humanitarian."

Nine sensed Manuel's discomfort, and the sudden shift of Legionnaire gazes. He removed his hand, and saluted Manuel, remembering that the Legion didn't take jokes well. TOUGH CROWD. You're bombing out there, Nine. Just shut up.

Palmer chortled, to his surprise. Shit. She actually thinks I'm funny.

Palmer stepped to the front of the crowd, manning the podium, ready to begin her speech.

"Alright Spartans, LISTEN UP!" Palmer shouted as everyone turned back to her.

"The Covies want this ring as a weapon, but it seems they had a falling out with some of their friends so now we have TWO groups of Covies. On the ring we also have Forerunner sentinels and the Flood," The Commander took in a short breath.

"The Forerunner sentinels are something we're a little more familiar with. Some of the vets from the last war may have met them, some of may have not. For those of you served on Requiem, think of them as tiny floating Promethans. They are Forerunner AI after all,"

"And finally the Flood. Reports say that the Halos are where they reside, kept in labs. Whatever you do, don't let them get close and keep firing. That's all anyone really can do, apart from running:

BUT, we're Spartans! We don't run, and we sure as hell don't back down. We came to this ring for thing only: to TAKE it, so let's do it!" Palmer shouted as her Spartans cheered her on.

Manuel watched calmly, not too impressed with the speech. It was passable but it lacked a certain amount of passion to it. Maybe that's because Spartan IVs were soldiers, not warriors.

Palmer began orgainizing troop movements, telling fire teams where to go. Finally she came over to Manuel and John.

"So you're in charge of Legion fire teams huh?" Palmer asked.

"You already know the answer to that question. The less time we waste the better," Manuel replied.

"Alright then, I need some people to do some reconnaissance. I hear you fellows have some fancy tech in that armour of yours," She said, referring to the Crusader Mark I.

"I suppose some reconnaissance would be good for all of us. Very well then, I'll arrange for a squad," Manuel answered.

"Actually I was thinking something smaller, like say... A three man team for now?" Palmer suggested.

"Fine, I'll need a close quarters combatant though... " Manuel trailed off. Palmer grinned at Agent Nine.

"Miguel, you're with me," Manuel said. The grin on Palmer's face disappeared. She was expecting the general to choose the Freelancer. The truth was, Manuel was a bit concerned about these aliens begging for mercy, and Nine bringing conflict to how they dealt with them. With an enemy like the Flood out there, he wouldn't be surprised if they DID ask for help.

"You got it mang," Miguel said, wiggling his fingers to make sure the plates on the ballistic fist were in the right position.

"I'll need a third man though," Manuel said gazing at his fellow Legionnaires. Siegfried was an excellent all around soldier, Yuda was fantastic at mid to close range, and Sebastian was an amazing assassin despite his bulk. Unfortunately he didn't end up making the decision.

"Take shorty over here with you. If you ever need someone to crawl through holes, I'm sure he's your man," Palmer laughed. Secretly thought she wanted the Freelancer to keep an eye on the Legion and Forerunner tech. They had made some pretty big advancements in the last few years, leading Palmer to believe there was something they weren't sharing with the rest of them.

"As you wish Commander. Legionnaires," Manuel said turning to his fellow warriors.

"Go back to base and tell them what we've been told here. Then I want you to coordinate with our super carrier and the UNSC Infinity as to where our fire teams are needed. Understood?" He asked.

"SIR YES SIR!" they replied, saluting him.

"At ease. Now go, we have much to do if we are to take the ring. Are you ready Agent Nine?" Manuel said turning to the Freelancer.

"Attention all UNSC personnel this is Kilo 2-3 popping a hot drop on your location. You guys might want to clear the area here. Helljumper coming in hot!" An unknown but seemingly familiar voice said over the comm channel to the group of UNSC and Legion troops. Within seconds of the transmission ending, a low rumbling noise was heard, and a small flaming object began to enter the troops line of sight.

THUD!!!

The pod embedded itself into the ground just outside the base camp and its door exploded off revealing the trooper within. "Hope you guys didn't forget your favorite ODST officer. Lieutenant Zack Crabtree reporting in! Seems most of y'all aren't familiar with these rings, well, consider me your guide....and demolitions expert where necessary." Crabtree said with a grin. His helmet off, his scarred face visible to everyone.

"So, who's uh who's in charge round this here outfit?"

Nine shot Palmer a fierce glare beneath his helmet at the "shortie" comment, but understood the thought beneath her flippancy. She wanted a Freelancer to go along with them to keep the Legion honest. If Manuel made a groundbreaking discovery, he'd have to share it with Nine around.

"I'm good to go, Manny."

The pod landed, alerting Nine at first. Spotting the familiar contact, the Spartan gave an amiable wave.

"Lieutenant Crabtree! Good to see ya, man." Nine stepped forward and saluted the Trooper. Nine looked back towards Manuel.

"I elect Zack for our outfit. He's had history on the Alpha Halo. My experience with the rings isn't too vast, and I doubt he'd slow us down by much, despite being a normie."

Nine checked his weapons, and turned to Palmer. "What vehicles are you allocating to us, being a scout party?"

"How's a warthog and a few mongooses sound?" Palmer pointed behind her. "We've got Gauss, Fifty Cal, and Rocket. Take your pick."

Nine grimaced. "You can't give us TWO warthogs? I like mongooses. They're fun, but when the enemy is shooting at me, I want something a little more protective."

Palmer shrugged. "Then shoot back. I've seen your vehicle proficiency scores. I want YOU on THAT." Palmer pointed to Nine, then to the mongoose. "It's maneuverable, it's got extra fuel, it's stocked with grenades in the side compartment, and it's quiet. You're a recon team until further notice. We clear?"

Palmer was being hard on Nine, but she genuinely liked him. He was a simple, high ranked liaison to the Freelancers, he did as he was asked, he had skill and a practical use on the battlefield, and he seemed to get along with EVERYONE. He was on a first name basis with War (technically), and he was Bailey's adopted son. Through him, Palmer had a few decent connections.

And he was kind of funny.

"If I find a Chopper, I'm stealing THAT." Nine grunted. He snatched a sniper rifle off of an ammunition crate.

"One more thing!" Palmer shouted. "I'm giving Miller your comms. If you need to talk to me, or get lonely, talk to Miller. He'll be your communications operative."

"Jarred?" Nine stopped in his tracks. He looked slightly to his left, his face wrinkling with displeasure. "...Fine..."

"Look, it's necessary." Palmer, well aware of Nine's...feelings towards Miller, crocked her head to the side, shrugging her shoulders "He's coordinating Crimson, Majestic, and Gypsy too. Speaking of which, your Recon Fireteam needs a name."

Crabtree placed his helmet on his head, a small his of air noting the lock and seal.  Pulling his M7 from his hip he readied the small SMG and placed it back on his armor.  A quick pat on his back to check his rocket and another on his left hip to feel the sidearm concluded his equipment check.  

"Commander Palmer," he said, noticing the Spartan IV, "I've heard a lot about you from command.  Ah, and the great Legionnaires from War himself with Manuel leading their charge.  From the sit-rep intel that I have gathered it's a pure shitstorm going on down here.  I'm here to tell you all, these rings are dangerous enough fighting on two fronts, but four...this will be difficult."

He turned to John, "I'll be more than happy to help out old friends but before we set off I need to address some key components of the ring."

He pulled a small hologram projector from his gear, its markings all pointed to ONI.  "ONI has "generously" supplied me with this hologram projector for the key structures from Alpha Halo."  Turning the device on, is showed a medium sized building, it looked impenetrable from the outside.  "This building is one you will want to stay away from if at all possible.  These are flood containment facilities.  If you all remember Sgt. Johnson's squad mate Pvt. Jenkins, well they broke into one of these.  That's where the parasite dwells in large numbers.  If you do manage to find yourself in one, do your best to make your way out and SEAL IT!  It is critical that these buildings are kept sealed lest the parasite grow exponentially.  We might come into contact with a Proto-gravemind while we are here as well, do not, i repeat do not, go near this.  Report to me on its location and I will assess the best way to deal with it."

The building flickered away and a new hologram took its place.  The projection showed a small object, almost similar to a hammer with mallet on both sides.  "This, this is what we will most likely be after ladies and gentlemen.  This is the activation index, this is what the Covenant will want, this will activate Halo."

He clicked the side of the projector and stuck it back with his gear.  "Listen, if those aliens get their hands on this, its game over.  So, whatever your objective was previously, its now this: we need to get to The Library, that's where the index is.  Secure it, then worry about clearing out this ring."

He looked around at the group.  "Look, I know I'm not one of you Spartans, or even high in the ranks, but that won't matter if that index falls into the wrong hands.  Hooah?  Lets get this shit kickin!"

"It matters not that you're an ODST Lieutenant, not as long as you continue to provide stellar work," Manuel said, getting ready to leave. He motioned for Miguel to bring a warthog over, leaving him alone with his associates.

"Stellar... Hm... I like that. Since you gentlemen have declined to name your own fire team, I'll be doing it FOR you. Fire team Sterling, it's your job to go and secure the index. Good luck gentlemen," Palmer said, walking away. As she left, Miguel approached in the warthog.

"We good to go mang?" He asked. Manuel simply nodded, motioning for Crabtree to get on. Miguel hopped out and manned the turret while Manuel took the driver's seat.

"By any chance, does anyone know why Palmer chooses such horrible names for her fire teams?" Manuel asked, as they waited for the Freepancer to get a Mongoose.

"Hmm, Fireteam Sterling, I like it." Crabtree said as he walked towards the warthog that both Manuel and Miguel occupied. Hopping into the passenger seat beside the Spartan he pulled out the holographic projector again.

"Hold on a sec Manny, just got to," He looked in the floorboard for a quick second, but came back up dismayed. "Damn, ONI really has to step up their tech skills. If this projector was compatable with the hog's systems i could cross reference data from Alpha Halo with this ring to give us a general location of the Library. Looks like we're on our own here boys."

He pulled the rocket launcher off his back and shouldered the weapon. "LET'S ROLL BOYS!"

Nine, not hearing Manuel's comment on the "horrible" name, had stars in his eyes.

"Fireteam Sterling." Nine's inner child showed for a moment. "That's so friggin' cool."

"Thank me later." Palmer motioned to Nine's mongoose. "Get going. You've got a lot of ground to cover if you ladies are going to find that Library. Get going, and good luck, Sterling."

Nine hopped onto his Mongoose, mounting his newly acquired sniper rifle onto his mongoose. "Let's ride!"

The mongoose started, and revved, kicking up dust. Nine led the way, driving down the one path in front of them.

He kept a steady, rapid pace, feeling the wind splash against his armor. He hit a puddle of muddy water, and felt a cold splat against his armor's boots.

The sky was clear and blue, marked with floating clouds and structures in the sky. The Ring's fauna was absent, likely startled by the Human's arrival not far away. The flora was in abundance however. On the sides of the path there were winding, corkscrew shaped trees with green, fleshy flowers and thin, wispy leaves.

"For a super-weapon, this place sure is pretty."

Miller, in his small base, loaded his M6C, and knelt by his desk. Palmer passed by him, giving orders to Spartan IVs. His newest connection patched through. "Alright, no lag, clean connection...and I'm on."

Hndlr M: Fireteam Sterling, this is Jared Miller. I'll be your handler, but I've got my hands full. I'm working with Gypsy, Crimson, Rook, AND you guys, and Palmer sort of sprung this on me. I'm gathering your armor data and getting the Infinity's tracking systems on you now.

Nine rolled his eyes.

F.A. 9: Heya Jared.

Hndlr M: Ah. Nine. I've got all of your armor uploaded. You've got three Spartans and an ODST. Nice lineup.

F.A. 9: We've got a map of Alpha Halo, but Delta Halo was totally different, so we've gotta assume this one is as well. Any information on where the Library is?

Hndlr M: Infinity Science is working on charting the Ring with high orbit drones, but cross referencing isn't giving us much luck yet. It'll take a day to chart it all, but me might get luck and spot the important structures early. For now, you're on your own.

F.A. 9: Thanks. Keep us posted.

Shit. We're not sure where the Index is, and the enemy might be squatting on it as we speak. The Library isn't exactly easy to infiltrate, but I was hoping we'd be there first...

"You guys alright back there?"

"Because when she diverts all of her creative skills away from naming Fireteams, and trying to insult her subordinates." Blaine nodded as Darryl trotted alongside him, greeting Manuel, Lt. Crabtree, and a new Spartan he was unfamiliar with. "Sorry about the delay on our part, took a wrong turn at Albuquerque."

"With all due respect sir." Palmer growled. "Bite me."

"In your dreams Commander." Blaine shook his head, glancing over at Crabtree and Manuel. "General, Crabtree. It's good to see you two again."

"Admiral, Jared Miller. I'm handling Fireteam Sterling, are you here to team up with them?"

"I'm sure as hell not here to sell them cookies, Miller." Blaine chuckled. "Place Spartan Darryl-116 and myself in their Roster."

"Aye aye Admiral. Hopefully your experience on Halo Rings can help the team further, as will Lieutenant Crabtree's."

"Affirmative." Blaine paused. "Say, I thought Nine was going to be here?"

"I think we just missed him, boss man." Darryl snickered, pointing at a dust trail, a Mongoose zooming off in the distance. "He's probably on scout, as usual."

"Alright then," Blaine nodded, turning back to the others. "Mind filling me in here?"

"We're off to secure the index Admiral, as it is the key to activating the Halos. I'm sure you know the importance of that first hand, so we'd better get going. Grab a warthog and I'll answer any additional questions on the coms," Manuel replied, driving away to catch up to John. He would have gone ahead but he was about to protest against the ridiculous name they had been given when John drove away and Blaine appeared.

"It's just a name..." Manuel grumbled in his mind, trying to focus solely on driving before his mind wandered off to other matters.

One thing that concerned him was Miller's collecting of data from their armour. Although the Legion and ONI had worked out a deal for the Legion's and ONI's exclusive rights, he didn't want someone poking around his armour with no proper clearance. Thankfully the Legion had every legal roadblock in place for any recreation of the suit to be as difficult as possible.

Manuel smiled, before Miguel broke him out of train of thought.

"Hey, do you know where this index is? The Lieutenant over here hasn't had much luck cross referencing and neither have all those scientists and that pussy Spartan up there, right?" He asked.

"Yes Miguel, according to our "handler", Spartan Miller as he's called, high orbital drones have had no luck cross referencing this Halo to the others previously encountered. I assume that meant cross referencing with BOTH Alpha and Delta Halo. Hopefully the scientists are looking for patterns as opposed to exact matches, as that would provide us with at least a sense of where to go," Manuel answered.

"I ain't handled by some dude that just sits on his ass!" Miguel protested, while Manuel came to a realization.

He was just following Nine, unsure of where to go since he'd never been on a Halo ring before. However, if the scientists on the Infinity had no idea where the library was, did the Freelancer know? He was known for just diving right into things, but not Manuel. He HATED going in without a plan.

In his opinion they should have assaulted a Covenant patrol and questioned prisoners for intel. Blindly charging into battle was how most soldiers died.

"John," Manuel started over the coms.

"Do you have any idea where the library is?"

"Nope, Manny. I do NOT know where the Library is." Nine stopped his Mongoose, waiting for his team-mates to catch up. "Searching this entire ring on a Mongoose would take...maybe the rest of my natural life."

Nine watched as Manuel's warthog drew closer. "But, what we CAN do is scout out the immediate area in this direction to make sure the enemy hasn't set up any bases too nearby." Nine looked around. "Plus, it IS Sunday. I usually take a Sunday morning drive to relax, and since I'm HERE, this is the closest I'm going to get."

Hndlr M: Sterling, I'm getting a weird movement reading directly behind you. Can you hear anything?

Nine turned around. He COULD hear snaps and pops of breaking trees, but hadn't been paying attention.

"The hell?" Nine reached down for his sniper rifle.

The roar of a loud engine began to grow louder, and soon, a Brute Chopper pierced through the thick plant-life in front of Nine.

Nine seized his rifle and rolled out of the way of the chopper. He shouldered his rifle, the grinding of gears and dust and flying leaves obscuring his vision of the brute's head.

Hndlr M: John, watch out!

"Yeah, no shit. Shut up for a sec!"

The Chopper wasn't far, and it was circling around to fire its autocannons. Nine didn't have long to aim, so he took his shot.

CRACK

The brute fell from the chopper, a clean hole in its head, just below the eye. Nine lowered his rifle.

The brute rolled once, its momentum laying it face down in the dirt. The chopper, sans rider, slammed into a tree. None the worse for wear, it came to a stop there, its engines winding down.

Nine noticed the damage on the vehicle. He smelled dried, Sangheili blood. Whoever this brute was, he had seen combat with Sangheili hours, maybe days ago. Nine noticed damage on his armor. Plasma burns, and a light scratch from a sword.

"Adios, buddy." Nine saluted the dead Bravo Kilo.

Hndlr Miller: What a shot! Good work. Are you alright, Nine?

"Swell. Thanks, Miller. I had I noticed that later, and he would have had the advantage." Nine genuinely appreciated Miller's warning. He shouldered his rifle, checking his mongoose. It was covered in leaves, but undamaged by the scuffle.

Hndlr M: What is that thing? Why didn't my sensors know EXACTLY what it was?!

"Brute vehicle. We call it a chopper." Nine set down his rifle, getting a closer look for Miller's sake. "I think I know why it didn't pick up. Brute vehicles are analog, unlike Covenant's."

Hndlr M: Analog?

Comm P: Brute vehicles run on a different, more primitive power source than the covenant's. Miller, have a team recover that vehicle for Infinity Science. If they can find some way to track it, they can update your software to see them coming. Good job taking care of that Biker Gorilla, but there are probably more where he came from, shortie. Wait for the rest of Sterling, regroup, then keep moving and find the scout's friends.

This time, it was Palmer's voice, rather than Miller's. Nine nodded. "Got it, Commander."

Nine got back on his mongoose, waiting for the others to catch up to him. If there was a Jiralhanae base near, he would need the extra help.

"See Manny? Stuff to kill, not far away. We're makin' progress."

"About time," Miguel replied when John said "stuff to kill". Manuel simply leapt out of the warthog and walked over to the corpse. He began to tug at the hair, and opened the Brute's mouth for inspection. After a few minutes he came to a conclusion.

"This is a younger Jiralhanae, probably around the equivalent of an eighteen year old human. It seems somewhat scrawny for the Jiralhanae species however... although I'm not sure if that is because of lack of food or genetics.

Of interest is the fact that this specimen saw battle with the Sangheili, as evidenced by the marks on his armour. I imagine that it most likely fled, probably to get reinforcements," Manuel announced.

"How do you know he fled?" Miguel asked.

"There's no sounds of plasma fire in the immediate area. It's also young and no doubt inexperienced. A well trained Sangheili, of which there are many in Jul's faction, is more than a match for a young Jiralhanae. However I don't think he retreated alone. Stay attentive, they travel in packs," Manuel replied, pulling his rifle out.

"Hopefully we'll take one alive and get some info out it," Miguel said cracking his knuckles and then drawing his Submachine guns, eagerly awaiting an "interrogation".

Liberation… freedom.

That was all Kayap could think about when he entered the system holding the Halo installation. This time, for him, it was a small operation. He didn’t want control of the Halo, as the installations were the fault of the Covenant. The UNSC itself was capturing these weapons of mass destruction themselves, but for other reasons beyond him.

The CCS-class Battlecruiser was tasked to lead the operation and was full of troops and vehicles ready to assault the Jiralhanae in a flash. They didn’t plan to stick around, for that would certainly spell disaster if any reinforcements were to show.

“Kayap, unknown UNSC vessel on scanner. Me think it is Infinity.” One of the navigators shouted.

“Put it on the view screen!” Kayap demanded.

Two screens adjacent to him revealed a silhouette in the void, and large one at that. In between the screens, a holographic form of the Infinity ship came to life.

“It’s the Infinity. Activate cloaking procedures, Ingrata.” He called to the shipboard AI. It was a Forerunner ancilla fragment that they managed to stabilize, somewhat. It still couldn’t bring about much Forerunner knowledge, so the Unggoy assumed that it may have been a low-end construct.

“Cloaking and false-coding activating. Rectifying Remnant and Loyalist CCS ship identifications.” It said in a mechanical tone.

With that, the ship moved inward towards the ring and the Jiralhanae base, its destination would bring it nearby it. They cared not of harming the ring, as it meant nothing of value to the Unggoy, but with the exception of the Huragoks, of course.
Meanwhile, in the hanger bay, Kadab was managing the set up in the hanger bay. Inside, he led a crew of Unggoy to moving weapons crates along some walls while using floating platforms. Wraiths, Spectres, and Ghosts were being moved about the hanger and the vehicle bays. Inside the mess halls, platoons of Unggoy were enjoying themselves, what could possibly be their last, meal.

Kadap was howling with some other groaning grunts as he pulled stacks of chips his way. It was an adopted game from the humans. In the opposite end, Dawjaw was playing pool, with the stick at hand the other occupied by another section as he aimed for the white ball and made for a position that would guarantee and good score. At the end of this round, he would return to playing chess with Popad.

Popad, himself, was playing a game of chess. He managed to place a monocle over an eye just to give an appearance of intelligent and intuitiveness. The appearance paid off, as he won yet another game.

Ladap, the commander of the special operations platoon, was enjoying a human beer. He looked around at the environment surrounding him. He felt odd drinking the alcoholic beverage and watching the grunts be the only members aboard this vessel. The Sangheili, N’jero, had his own errands with his kin as an ambassador. He would be connection that the Unggoy and Sangheili had, alongside with Kayap, though who appeared less.

Again, he scanned the environment. If the Covenant still ran strong, they would all be beheaded and murdered, with the shipmaster being branded a heretic. The new appearance was unusual, and everything strange in his eyes. He glanced over at Yadad, who was chatting with several other grunts. He inhaled the methane atmosphere.

Indeed, one would think that the amount of methane aboard this vessel would make any weapons fire turn the ship into a fireball, but that was wrong. Adjusted combinations of gases made the atmosphere within the vessel much safer and non-explosive. And it was also of the fact that oxygen was not present, which would explain that any fires within would be different than fires started by oxygen.

Ladap sighed as he heard the voice of Kayap tell the Unggoy on board to prepare for battle. “You heard him, prepare for battle!” He shouted.

Palmer paced behind Miller, rifle in hand. She'd given the other Fireteams their orders. Spartan IV units, supplemented with Marines, ODSTs, Freelancers, and Legionnaires, were scrambling across the Ring like a swarm. She could hear the exhaust of Pelicans launching from inside the small base.

"Commander Palmer," Miller looked over his shoulder at his superior officer. "Captain Lasky got some weird interference on the Infinity's radar."

Palmer stepped behind Miller, looking over the communications officer's broad neck to peer at Miller's findings. "The shape before its silhouette went dark was that of a Covie ship."

"How'd you figure on that?"

Miller rolled his eyes. His helmet was on the desk, hooked up to his monitor. "The beauty of cross referencing, and having my own extensive database. I pulled it up while searching for info and past appearances of Choppers."

Palmer nodded. "Smart, Miller. Back to the ship."

"I'm targeting it now, and it's on a course for the Ring. It'll likely be on its way for the same continent as us."

"Alright. Is it Apes or Alligators? I should warn the teams in proximity to its landing area."

Miller shrugged. "I don't know, but its profile isn't consistent with anything I've seen."

"You should get out more, Miller." Palmer chuckled.

Miller groaned. Palmer DID like her gibes. It was usually endearing, but this time it almost hurt his feelings. "Take a look for yourself."

Palmer leaned forward, and the ship immediately struck her. "That's a CCS-Class cruiser, but the model is something that I actually recognize. It's on the Freelancer 'Do Not Engage' list." Palmer wiped her nose with her knuckle. "If the Freelancers know it's coming, they may get over-friendly. If the Legion knows, they'll shoot it down, whether or not it's here to help us."

Miller turned his chair towards her. "Then what's our move?"

Palmer shrugged, holding her DMR. "Nothing. We let it land, and deal with it by ear. I'll send out a report to OUR personal Freelancer, since it's going to end up over his Fireteam's field. That way, he'll know what's up, and he can make first contact, and HE can deal with Manuel."

Palmer spread her teeth in an evil grin.

"Lasky doesn't commit an accidental war crime, we don't spark anymore infighting than necessary, and Nine takes all the heat. I can't lose."

Miller frowned. He actually liked Nine, and didn't want to throw him under the bus, but going against Palmer was always a risk.

Palmer noted the disapproval in his eyes, and shrugged her shoulder. "We'll buy him a drink after. That'll cheer him up."

Hndlr M: Agent Nine, be advised that a vessel on the Freelancer Do Not Engage list is en route to a position near you. It's a covenant ship, so we're assuming they're allied with you guys for whatever reason, or they have Asylum status with the Freelancers. Either way, it's near you, so be advised.

Nine raised his brow beneath his helmet. They'd broadcast the signal to him on a secure channel, as he straddled his Mongoose.

"Huh. How about that. Wonder if it's Rip'a." He spoke softly, under his breath.

"C'mon. I can see where the Chopper's tracks came from. It's not a far drive from here, probably."

Nine began slowly driving, following the Chopper's tracks, going slowly so the group could keep pace in their vehicles.

The Jiralhanae base was indeed close. There were plasma burns on the ground, and on structures nearby.

And BOY, where there structures. A large tower with a wide base, and multiple boxed buildings littered the clearing. It was almost picturesque, and Nine could only guess what half of the buildings were meant to do. All they did now was house the enemy.

There were brutes. Some were chatting in the open, others marveled at the Forerunner landscape and structures, and some carried dead bodies of enemy soldiers. There were piles of corpses, some brute, and some Sangheili, and some Jackal. There was a fight for this base, and the brutes had won.

Nine could make out movement behind the large building, but couldn't quite see what was happening. Captured grunts were being corralled into Energy Cages. Nine torqued his jaw. They're probably going to use those poor guys as grunts. Either kill 'em or let them go, ya fuckin' filthy animals.

"...Alright. I see the base. How do you folks wanna do this?" Nine crept around the grass, staying low and slow like a metal tiger.

The vessel had managed to trick the Brutes, who ruled the area as recent reports suggested. Ingrata had modified Kayap's voice and managed to set up a Brute Chieftain's hologram.

"Dumb apes." Kayap remarked as the screen went down.

The vessel was in atmosphere, having quickened its astronomical pace and was carefully hovering away from the brute outpost. The base platform of the ship's underbelly gravity lift shot down and latched to the flat ground below it.

It was a good distance from the UNSC's teams below as well as the brutes. This would appear to be just some careful placement of the Jiralhanae's 'reinforcements.' This would give the grunts cover to deploy their troops.

"UNSC is more competent." One of the higher ranking Unggoy said to his peers. "They'll find out about us before hairy monkeys do."

"Me wouldn't doubt it." A major said, crossing his arms.

"Alright. Dawjaw'll be here soon. If we don't get to loading, he'll chew us out." The literate Ultra said.

Dawjaw marched in just as they began loading their phantom, much to their relief. Ladap and Yadad, along with their crew, followed him in.

"Guess we'll take the Lich?" The older grunt supposed, in the Unggoy speech.

"Yep, it's already loaded. Take it ground-side, then stay on standby. If we get into too much trouble, we'll call you in." Dawjaw barked in return.

"Sounds good to me. My team better get extra rations after this." Ladap mused and chuckled.

The hanger-bay loading was getting into its final preps as the first grounds teams floated down, decked out in different armor. Typically, the methane tanks had a scarab-beetle elytra appearance to them in the lower ranked grunts. The higher had a more angular, more heavily armored appearance.

The face mask was different as well. It acted as both armor and a methane feed. It was closer to face, rather than jutting outward like the older variants. Higher ranked Unggoy had helmets to go along with their mouthpiece for additional protection and surveillance of the battlefield. All Unggoy had a communications device attached to their mouthpieces.

"Ground teams set, Methane Suites being set down as soon as airspace is clear." One surface-side grunts spoke.

With that, several well coordinated banshee squadrons began patrolling in search of any Brutes intervention.

Soon enough, Phantoms began transporting large block-like structures to surface. Unggoy carried stick-like objects, waving and guiding the phantom to place them down. This was a typical routine to the grunts.

Spirit-class logistical transports began bringing down weapons crates and defense turrets. This sort of base could be dissembled as quickly as it was assembled.

----

Dawjaw was already in one of the Methane Suites, Kayap across from him. A holographic table presented the Jiralhanae base, along with the structures and terrain inside it.

"With the humans moving in, we assume they'll be hitting here." Dawjaw pointed at a green-colored patch.

"Here's our goal." A blue area shone, coloring crossing in with some of the green.

"Well, looks like I'll have to be diplomatic." Kayap groaned.

"You're good with English. Better than many of us." Dawjaw nodded.

"There are some better than I, there are some worse. In reality, it won't matter. All other races view us as lowly." Kayap sighed. "I'll have to work extra hard. This'll be first contact with the UNSC after our get away."

"And our battles with the Jackals." Dawjaw nodded.

"Indeed. Kadab and Kadap should be putting together strike teams now. Popad'll be leading the front lines." Kayap said, pointing to a splotch of teal. "You'll be leading the flank, I presume?"

"I will. If things get a little hairy, Ladap's kill teams'll come in?" Dawjaw as answered with a nod.

"It's gonna be a nasty bog, for sure. The last few operations didn't have as many buildings. Good thing we brought a Lich." He chuckled.

Manuel moved next to John, crouched down low but not lying down. His active camo was his method of hiding.

"I suggest we hit tower first, take away whatever high ground advantage they have. The Gauss turret in the back of the warthog is accurate enough to hit the plasma batteries and produce an explosion to eliminate any enemies up there," Manuel said, noticing that various plasma cannons had been set with plasma batteries nearby.

"Then we'll need to move in. There isn't much cover from here to there, so a frontal assault might be necessary. The warthog I selected has a Gauss turret, so whoever is on it will be in charge of repelling vehicles," Manuel said, already thinking of who he would put in charge of that. The ODST would be the best fit, so that the Spartans would be free.

"Afterwards, John and Miguel should go in and disrupt enemy formations," Manuel said, knowing the two were close quarters combatants.

"Which I suppose leaves the Admiral, his friend, the Lieutenant, and myself. I suggest we split into groups of two. Two in the warthog and two on the ground providing support for Miguel and Agent Nine," Manuel said, ready to do either.