Welcome to Gaia! ::

The Ship Master nodded. "Return to your men. When there is information to know you will be informed. May the Gods watch over you and your kind Commander."

Anso turned to face the holographic screens. Images of the surrounding terrain were displayed as well as a large holographic image of the planet. The last of the plasma bombardments had been finished and it was time to continue their fight. He felt a slight change in gravity as the CCS class cruiser banked into the pulsating sphere. The Ship Master did not speak with him, for he knew his task.

The holo-screens went blank the moment they entered the sphere, all contact with the outside world and regular space was lost. They were in slip-space or what seemed like it. And yet they were only within the portal for a few moments before emerging before a giant structure floating in an unknown region of space. No one knew where they were. The voice of R'tas Vadum, their Fleet Master and one of the leaders of the Sangheili, the other being the Arbiter, filled the Bridge. Images of the Brute fleet filled the holo-screens.

"All Cruisers, fire at will! Burn their mongrel hides!" The Ship Master glanced at Anso and nodded. Anso turned and left the Bridge. He opened his unit's Battle net and delivered his orders. "Warriors, arm yourselves and prepare for battle. We have chased the Mongrel Truth to this Ark, we shall make it his tomb. Meet me in the Drop Pod Chamber."

Lipton hadn't wandered far from the humans and their equipment. To be on an enemy ship like this felt... wrong. He knew the Elites were their allies, but he had killed enough of them to know that they had once been deeply committed to destroying all of humanity. Of course, he wasn't about to turn away the help. Mankind didn't exactly have very much firepower left. If the Covenant had wanted to, they could have glassed the entire planet, ending the human race forever. But for some reason they didn't. He had a sneaking suspicion that the reason for their strange behavior lay within that glowing blue sphere in the sky. It was time to end this. Once and for all.

Lipton could tell what was going on even before the Elite ship decelerated. Elites were hurrying to their positions. He accessed the 105th COM-freq and spoke clearly. "Helljumpers, listen up! This is Major Lipton. Tactical command for this operation has been given to Commander Hammer of the 301st Marines. I know you're all sore about being led by regulars, just do your jobs and make it home. This is our last stand. Your decisions will make the difference in determining whether or not humanity survives as a species. I know you've heard this pep talk before, but this is as true and as real as it will ever get. We face extinction. But we will not go silently into the night. We will not be annihilated by an alien foe. We will prove our right to survive! We will go kicking and screaming, Feet first into hell! Ooh-Rah?"

There was a pause as the remaining members of the 105th O.D.S.T. division from Fox Hole 2 activated their COMs. An almost deafening "OOH-RAH!" filled his ear piece. He smiled before he continued. "Prepare for combat Marines. Let's see if these Elites won't let us use a few HEVs and show them how it's done?" He smiled and killed the 105th COM freq. He accessed the unit COM-freq and sent a message to Commander Hammer.

"It's your show now Mike. Godspeed."

The bulbous ships drifted through the cold space, an infinitesimal spec in the vast leagues of the universe. Their translucent hulls shimmered as the shielding began to dissipate and the lateral lines of their ships began to glow a sickly white. The ominous glow penetrated the black voice, lancing out to attack the oncoming oppressors. Like a sword the plasma torpedo slammed into the shielding of the identical ship before pushing through. The plasma found it's way like a rabbit into it's hole and began to burn through the deck closer and closer towards it's main reactor.

From the bridge of the CCS Unyielding Reverence, Commander Hammer watched with constant vigilance. His arms were crossed and his legs were spread just enough to where he could stand comfortably. His eyes traced his heads up display finding that he was broadcasting a live video feed from the bridge to all U.N.S.C. personnel. Just under the green light for the video feed were the vitals for his officers Winter, Karr, Lee, Lipton and Adams.

Standing there he found that he was quite comfortable standing among the elite ranks. Then the ship the Unyielding Reverence had bravely assaulted began to shift to the left, atmosphere venting from it's exposed decks. In the blink of an eye another plasma torpedo cam from the left flank impacting directly against the bulbous hull. The translucent violet metal began to boil, fire beginning to spurt out of the boils.

It was truly a sight to be seen as a white light flashed from the center of the ship. Bright light filled the bridge casting dark shadows on the walls. Behind his visor the Commander scowled in hate for the Covenant. They deserved to be burned alive like their were now. As the light faded only a wrecked ship carcass was on the main screen. Then as the ship shifted out of the way he could see what they had followed the Covenant to.

The structure was enormous, a testament to the Halo rings. It looked as if it had been created by the same species that had created the halo rings. It was shaped like a eight pointed star with a semi square on the tip of each ray. On each ray there resided planetary ecosystems much like that of the halo installations. There was even a hurricane on one of the rays, as well as a dessert on another. In the center resided an island of land, separated from the main structure but some how still connected.

If they weren't going to be fighting over the Ark Commander Hammer would have even called it beautiful. He was sure some of the elites must have felt the same way seeing this marvel. Hammer took a deep breath, inhaling deeply in and then exhaling out. He chinned the button to close the video feed and remained off of the COM channels. As he turned around to walk out of the bridge another ship detonated in the cold void. Bright light filled the bridge silhouetting the Commander.

At the entrance to the bridge awaiting the Commander was a Gunnery Sergeant. As soon as Michael stepped into the corridor the Sergeant saluted him, "sir." Hammer stopped and saluted. "What?" he asked composing himself. "Sir" the Gunny began looking up to the six foot ten behemoth, "Lord Hood has ordered me to suit you up." The Commander looked at the Gunny quizzically, the Gunny starting again "if you would please follow me sir". He nodded his head and the Sergeant Stepped lively with Hammer following close behind.

The man led him to a lift which they rode down on for less than ten seconds, winding up six decks below. The soldier looked up at the Commander and turned away quickly when the Commander twitched his head towards him. The Sergeant looked frightened almost how the other marines looked when they were standing next to the Chief. This peculiar behavior sparked some bit of interest on the Commander's part. What was the Sergeant so flustered about?

When the lift doors opened Michael saw what it was; armor. Spartan Armor. "Sir, I've been instructed to provide you with this suit" he said walking into the room next to the suit. The Gunny looked up at the suit and then looked back at the Commander with concern on his face. "Permission to speak candidly sir?" Michael stepped out of the lift just enough so the doors would close, "granted." "Sir, I've heard about regular Marines, even O.D.S.T.'s testing the SPARTAN suits and being mangled horribly, in most cases dieing." The Sergeant paused and watched the Commander who stood without moving. "With all due respect I do not think should put on this armor. What if the same thing happens to you that happened to those Marines?"

Michael stepped forward slowly until he was standing next to the Sergeant, gazing up at the suit. He reached up and with expertise like no other removed his helmet from his armor. "If it happens, then O.N.I. failed and the day goes on." It was the Sergeants turn to be confused who opened his mouth to ask the Commander a question but was immediately interrupted by the Commander taking off his prototype O.D.S.T. armor. "What kind of armor is this? It doesn't look like the MJOLNIR Mark VI to me." The Sergeant moved behind the displayed SPARTAN armor and began fumbling with something, "no sir, it's a new armor variant called the RECON-VII... I was told it was made for you, sir."

When the Sergeant stood up from fumbling around behind the armor the Commander was stark naked. In the hands of the Sergeant was jumpsuit which he was handed. Immediately he slipped on the jumpsuit, gloves, and booties. Lines traced up and down the outside of the jumpsuit where it looked like something connected. It was then that the Sergeant pressed a button and the RECON-VII disassembled itself. "Please step on the marked location, sir."

Michael looked down below where the armor disassembled and saw that there were two foot prints right beside each other. He moved forward and turned around so that his feet were in line. The Sergeant spoke his concern, "are you sure we should do this sir?" "You have orders from Lord Hood himself; do it." The Sergeant looked reluctant to go ahead and initiate the assembling engine, but he quickly tapped into the computer next to him and the the EXE button, executing the command.

At his feet the ground disappeared for a moment as boots rose up and fit our his feet, then his shins, and finally his thighs. Next was the torso which pressed together nicely, coupling with the thighs and pelvis armor. Then came the arms ("sir, please lift your arms to a ninety degree angle.") The upper arm armor slid on both sides, then the forearm, and finally the gloves. When all the pieces were on except for the helmet the robotic arms which placed the armor on the Commander retracted and the other arms that had laid dormant for the suiting process came forth, snapping against the armor in precise locations. Immediately the suit was charged with an electrical pulse triggering the locking mechanisms in the armor.

Then the helmet began to lower over his head, and latched into place, the air beginning to cycle through the suit. Everything was dark and he couldn't move. On the outside of the suit the Sergeant moved behind the Commander and removed a panel, pressing a few buttons. Almost simultaneously the visor lit up with a heads up display displaying shielding, ammunition, radar, and vitals but still he could not see the room which he knew he was standing. He heard some chuckling and then light penetrated the darkness, "sorry sir, I forgot to wipe off the coating from the visor."

He watched as the Gunny stepped away afraid that if the Commander moved his actions would be exaggerated and would kill himself. But when the Commander flexed his hands and bent down to grab the prototype O.D.S.T. helmet which had been placed on the floor the Sergeant relaxed a little. He reached into the back of the helmet where he plucked out a holo-chip that contained a crystal matrix in it's center which meant a Smart A.I. Reaching around the back of his head he slid the chip into the empty slot and immediately a cold sensation filled his head, like a cool liquid cooling the brain. "So this is what it's like to be in a SPARTAN. It's a lot like the Monterey; I could have fun in here." "Don't get any ideas, Angel." "You know I kid." Michael was going to say something back but an audio message began, very short and very brief.

"Commander Michael R. Hammer. Please confirm."

"80192-77041-MH."

"Confirmed. Welcome to the SPARTAN-IV Program, SPARTAN-E417."

(i haz rcon lololololololol)

The whole scene played out before Orna 'Fulsam's eyes. It was awe-striking, the object he had only dreamed of was now within a few seconds from his reach. The holy Ark was there before him, the only thing standing between him and the relic was the Prophets, their lies, and their ignorant followers. The thought of his enemies brought him back from the world of religion and the Covenant, to where he currently was, standing on the bridge of the CSS Shadow of Intent.

Suddenly Orna found himself out of place, an Ultra sitting on the bridge of the Assault Carrier, it seemed completely ridiculous. Of course, Orna knew his former rank of Ship Master would be restored after this battle, he still felt lowly, fighting as an Ultra was not where he belonged. he belonged at the helm of a ship, giving orders, bringing the fight in orbit, on his deck. He wouldn't dare bring up such a trivial subject during the given situation.

Rather, he gathered himself and left the bridge without a word, heading for one of the insertion pods of the ship. The ship had at least 500 of the point drop pods, and on top of that it had hundreds of dropships, Seraph fighters, and at least three Scarab tanks. The ships arsenal was nearly unrivaled.

Orna stood in the drop pod however, instead of in the bridge where he was more than used to. The floor dropped out underneath him and the gravity dissipated for a few moments, only to return in the form of the Ark's artificial gravity.

"May the Gods guide my blade," Orna spoke softly. He knew he would be one of the few Elites touching the ground, as most of the Elites would be busy fighting in orbit, no, Orna would be joined by ODSTs and Marines. If he was lucky enough Orna would meet the creature heh ad once set out to kill, the humans "SPARTAN."

He knew his orders, aid the humans in clearing the ground. He was too make sure that the Arbiter and the SPARTAN made it to the control room and stopped the Ark from igniting the rings. Orna knew that if he were going to die in any way, this would be the place he would want it to be, on this Ark, alongside these allies, for this cause. Not the death a ship master dreamed of, but he didn't care, it was more a valiant death than any could wish for.




Luckyz!

-Marines-

PFC Ruiz felt a little, strange. Apprehensive actually. Weeks before, he was fighting the Covenant in the defense of the MAC Station Tokyo. Then he was fighting them in Humanity's last stand in Africa. Now he was on a Covenant ship. The Human-Elite alliance didn't mean each side had brushed off their long war against each other. But it did start to seal in some hope for Humanity.

The Elites, tenacious in battle, and absolutely loyal to their cause, were confused. They had just had their whole religion thrown topsy turvy. And in the snipets of conversation he managed to find out from some ONI operatives, that there has been some talk of Humanity joining the Covenant if it haven't been for the fact they were already fighting a war.

But that didn't matter now. The Prophet of Truth sounded like a big old prima donna gone crazy. The elites wanted him dead for usurping them in their natural order. Well. Lorenzo wanted him dead for because he was the new and hated enemy. He had filled his various ammo pouches with ammunition. In a row of Covenant and UNSC weapons, he chose his trusted MA5C. He didn't like the older MA5B, mainly because it never suited him, and the new MA5C felt more comfortable.

He had cleaned it, lubricated it, checked the computer system, and reassembled it himself. As a weapons tech, he made sure all the weapons were in working order. But that means taking all these weapons apart and seeing if they work. No time for that now. Holstering his pistol, he picked his rifle up again, and slammed a mag home. The rifle was in safe, and he pulled the charging handle back. The weapon's computer interfaced with his helmet's computers. And he was good to go.

"This is PFC Ruiz, when are we getting his party started?"

Lipton was waiting for official orders from Hammer, but he knew enough to do his job. He had already loaded up several flights of pelicans with all the necessary equipment to get a Forward Command Post established on the ground. They had been lucky enough to have an Albatross transport so they could take more supplies down than just in the Pelicans.

He stood in the Cockpit of Pelican VECTOR 55 and waited for the GO order. While he would have preferred to take a direct drop via HEV, he knew that Hammer would rather use those for special ops insertions. After all, they only had a few. He knew the Elites would use their OIPs and Phantoms, he just didn't know when.

Anso stood in the Drop Chamber of the Unyielding Reverence. Assembled about him were the members of his Spearhead unit. They would drop first and secure a landing site for the majority of their ground forces. But he still had orders. They were not yet over the designated drop site. And the Ship Master's word was law.

Climbing aboard a Pelican, Anthony hefted a Sniper rifle and a musette bag of ammo and tossed it on the floor next to him; strapped to his leg was an SMG for close combat.

He strapped himself in and began a system check on the Pelican.

"This is Lima-One-Seven-Three; Running diagnostics check now..."

"Copy Lima-One-Seven-Three, walking ident and passing GO codes to you now. Wait one...

GO Codes active, Ident complete, continue check sir."

Anthony nodded, and continued to flip through the knobs and switches to the Pelican's inner console.

The alien corridors of the CCS Unyielding Reverence pulsed and glowed with an almost organic purple light as light but steady footsteps cast diffused shadows onto the scaled metallic deck. The reinforced soles of standard-issue UNSC marine combat boots failed to make their trademark clangs as the wearer expertly controlled his movement to minimize noise while making his movements as efficient as possible. Speeding through the deck areas allowed to the Marines by their Elite counterparts, Captain Xiang Hao Lee's concentrated expression showed an intensity of character rarer in these relatively civilized times.

The echoes of other UNSC personnel milling about, no doubt preparing for the coming insertion, were loud enough to completely hide the signs of his passage. The cantankerous rhythm of operating machinery and moving soldiers was just enough to make listening to the video feed of the massive confrontation above the "Ark" difficult. The asian Captain's features did not change as a Sangheili cruiser fell to loyalist fire, just as three more brute vessels were engulfed in furious fireballs of rapidly expanding plasma. No cheers were heard, even as only one of the three opposing ships managed to limp out of the sun-like heat that devoured two of it's brethren. There was no time to indulge in cheering, he had a job to do.

Lee came into the massive space that was so similar on many Covenant vessels. The massive hangar, one of many on the massive CCS class cruiser, looked identical to hundreds of simulations designed by UNSC HIGH-COM to prepare marines for the eventuality of boarding and insertion actions. Almost instinctively, the scenarios played out again in the Captain's head, and for each situation there was always an appropriate answer. Pushing aside these thoughts as if filing them away into the recesses of his mind, Lee then continued walking towards his designated pelican as subordinates updated him on task completion, and green lights began winking on in his HUD. Just before he reached his pelican, he spotted a young private still sitting on a crate of backup supplies. Walking up next to the marine, he quickly identified the PFC by his IFF tag and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Come on, Private Lorenzo. Instead of chanting the anthem of a now-defunct nation, help me get this crate into the pelican."

As he said this, the few lights still yellow on his task-bar turned green, a sign that general preparation was all but finished. All that needed to be done now was get everybody on the birds, and Commander Hammer would lead them to what quite possibly could be the 301st striker's final fight.

The Commander reached up to the handhold, "I'll stand."

"Cranky, aren't you?"

"Get us out of here, Karr."

The Commander turned and watched as the aft began to close encompassing the many marines that were on the Pelican. There were even four elites standing in the center of the Pelican's bay ready for battle. Once it was completely closed Hammer turned around and stepped further inside allowing for the door to close. He reached out and gripping the back of the Warrant Officer's seat, placed the MA6K-MPA Assault Rifle on his back and grabbed the co pilots seat next to Karr with his other hand. "Door's closed."