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Skirmish at Sirius Alpha Part 1
Date: 13 April 2006, 3:06 am

0800 Hours, October 2, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Destroyer Isaac Brock on patrol of Sirius Alpha System

The entire crew had been on edge since the Fall of Reach, the Isaac Brock had left space dock from the Epsilon Eridani system for the last time on August 26th, perhaps the closest call Captain Marcus Roland had ever known in his fifteen odd years of active service, all of which had been dominated by the Covenant's war on humanity. They had been on a routine escort mission for a civilian convoy, protecting them from pirates, when they detected the first distress signals. He could remember without the smallest gap the feeling of absolute helplessness. His orders were to safe-guard the fleet of a dozen unarmed transports; he couldn't abandon them and go head-first to Reach in the middle of a battle. He was well outside the range of a reasonable jump through slipspace to rendezvous. That really didn't help his conscience that much though, for hours he waited on edge in the middle of his circular bridge, his crew knew what he was feeling and couldn't help but feel the same way. But by the time they completed the last leg of the slip space route, new communications were coming in. The fleet was in general retreat, Reach couldn't be saved, and it was going to be glassed just like every other planet that held any trace of humanity. And there he was impotent, standing on his bridge, in the still calm Inner Colonies in orbit waiting for the last transport to descend to the planet to ferry its supplies. Millions had died or were dying on Reach, and he had been light years away.

Messages came in from FLEETCOM shortly thereafter; calling for all available vessels to assume escort duties for the few ships that managed to escape the battle. Roland and his crew saw first-hand what the Covenant had done to their forces at Reach. The rendezvoused with the cruiser Invincible less than a day after the first message from FLEETCOM, none where prepared for what they saw. The once powerful battleship had been reduced to something that more resembled molten slag. The inner hull was exposed at dozens of spots along the vessel's port and starboard sides, two of its three MACs where completely destroyed, and it was operating mostly on reserve power since its main reactor shut down due to the emergency jump from Reach. The carnage was not unfamiliar, Roland had seen the same result, and much worse countless times before, but those times it had never been so close to home. Reach was gone, the last shield Earth had was also, it was simply a matter of time.

These thoughts plagued the captain as his vessel patrolled the Sirius Alpha system, but he was careful not to show it. His crew relied on him to be strong and so he never gave even the slightest hint of his inner thoughts to public display.

"Apollo, did those readings amount to anything?" Roland asked the shipboard AI.

"According to the preliminary scans I believe it was nothing more than magnetic interference due to the sun's solar activity," the translucent green figure declared from his pedestal. "I have detected very similar readings over the past week."

"Hmmm." Roland scratched his beard. There was something afoot, he could feel it in his blood, but he couldn't place it. "Lieutenant Farrell open a private channel to Captain Reece."

"Captain I am more than capable of sending over all relevant data and…" Apollo began to say.

"No, I think I can handle the transmission myself Apollo," Roland declared, bruising the AI's ego if he'd had one.

"Channel's open sir," Farrell announced, as he turned his chair around to face the captain in the middle of the bridge. The lieutenant was still very young, and this was only his second tour onboard a combat vessel, but what he lacked in experience he made up for enthusiasm as it were.

"I'll take it in my quarters, lieutenant."

"Yes sir."

"Commander Yakasora you have the bridge," the captain declared as he left the command centre of his ship to the elevator that was only a few bulkheads behind it. Roland had a lot on his mind, and he wanted nothing more than to stop the elevator and go instead to the officer's mess, sit and casually sip away a cup of soup broth that only UNSC-issue food dispensers could provide. But he was on duty, and had been for only two hours, there was a long trip ahead of him still. So the elevator descended until at last it stopped on the deck his quarters were on. When he had finally reached his chair the communication line was already present, and only waited for his clearance to open it. So Roland punched into the keypad: 05112546SAMANTHA.

He still had no recollection of why he'd used that password ever since his sister's death, she had been just a civilian, not combat personnel but the Covenant didn't care, she was slaughtered just like the rest of them that were caught in Far Light City when the dropships arrived. Never had a chance, that's all there was to say, and so every time he typed that code in Roland remembered the last time he had a chance to see her. Now though it made him all the more uneasy.

Then the image of the thirty-two year old Captain Cynthia Reece appeared on his monitor. She was a sight to behold, no amount of military regulation could hide that, but at the same time she was a brilliant naval tactician, one of the few still in command of a combat vessel. She was in command of the second UNSC vessel in the system on patrol, the Prophet Muhammad performing a geosynchronous orbit over Sirius Alpha I the largest of the system's ten planets, and the only one with a human population.

"Good morning captain," Roland declared over the channel.

"Thank you captain," she replied in kind then paused momentarily. "Well I think that's enough formality, how did you sleep Marcus?"

"With a little bit of trouble, this assignment gives me a bad feeling," he admitted. "I would really like to just head back to Alpha Centuri right now, dock in orbit and spend two weeks with you on the reservation doing nothing but laying in the forest and getting the regulations out of our minds."

"You hopeless romantic," she mocked with a smile. "But that does remind me the Muhammad is due for a re-supply after this mission. I'm sure that FLEETCOM would recommend that we have an escort back to space dock."

"At your service," Roland said chuckling. "I think the crew likes having another ship around anyway, it does get lonely out here."

"Is that why you called me Marcus? Are you lonely?" She teased.

"No Captain Reece, I have an update on our latest scans," Roland declared resuming a mock tone of formality with his lover.

"You must be joking."

"No I'm afraid this was an entirely procedural message," he continued but was then unable to maintain his fake sternness. "Well at least it was supposed to be a formal report."

"Captain Marcus Roland," Reece said slowly, almost one syllable at a time like a mother berating her child. "You had better be careful, I don't take no for an answer." She laughed. "In all seriousness was there any news?"

"Only inconclusive scans from a magnetic surge Apollo detected three hours ago, he says that it was most likely because of the solar activity, nothing to worry about."

"Sounds exciting, the only thing larger than a book out there was a comet we detected on long range sensors. It's just a routine as usual."

"I don't really mind all that much, it gives me more time to practice my game and beat you Cynthia."

"I beat you three times straight the first time we met Marcus, you would have to catch me on a terrible day if you were looking to win at squash."

"Well Captain if you're not busy tonight when you're finished your duty shift you can take a Pelican over here and we can test that theory," Roland challenged.

"Loser, makes dinner?"

"Fine with me."

"All right then, I'll be there at 1700 hours, captain."

"1700, I'll be looking forward to it."

"Not as much as I will be Marcus, bye," then she kissed her two fingers and touched them to the monitor just before closing the channel. It was remarkable just how far away she was yet she was still so close to him. Combat duty afforded little in the way of comfort, and he had to bend the rules just to have a little. In any case he would look forward to tonight, but in the meantime he was needed back on the bridge.

"Apollo," Roland said into a newly opened shipboard COM channel.

"Yes Captain," the colder synthetic voice answered.

"Have two extra Marine squads on-duty for this shift."

"Sir, there are absolutely no inbound contacts to report," the AI tried to protest.

"Sometimes sensors can be wrong Apollo, and I have a feeling this is one of those times. I'll be on the bridge in two minutes." Then the captain closed the channel and left his quarters towards the elevator.

"Marine Company C Squads three and seven report for active duty to Deck Four Section K Armory," Apollo's voice declared ship wide just as Roland was about to step back onto the bridge. Everyone appeared complacent, without any activity most of the bridge crew found themselves without much to do.

"Nothing unusual to report, Captain," Yakasora declared as soon as he recognized his superior return to the bridge.

"Good, return to your post Commander." The second highest ranking officer then returned to man the ship's weapon's console. Normally someone of Yakasora's rank would have been in command of a lighter class vessel, a scout, corvette, or even a frigate, but ships were not in abundance.

"Ensign Seville take us to the edge of the system for a quick pass. Keep the engine's below twenty percent there's no use wasting power," Roland instructed.

"Aye sir, engines ahead at fifteen percent," the youngest member of Roland's bridge crew declared from her chair near the front of the bridge. The captain at least felt comfortable within the domain of his bridge, he had a good crew manning the vessel and talent filled her from stem to stern.

Roland sighed heavily, as he watched his vessel's course through the main viewscreen. Every second hundreds, if not thousands of micrometeorites impacted against the reinforced Titanium-A hull of the Isaac Brock, but left at most a nearly invisible dimple. Trivial thoughts were calming; it took the worry off of everyday life. Roland wondered if Apollo ever became preoccupied in thought, he just another "dumb" AI but calculations scrolled across his body just like every other showing the computations he cycled through even when just operating under routine conditions.

The lumbering destroyer slowly passed by Sirius Alpha I and its two moons, the Prophet Muhammad was on the far side of the planet by that time still orbiting above the planet's single colony. That wasn't to say that it was small, there were four million civilians tucked within a single habitable continent. It housed nothing of great importance, the UNSC had only a single base of operations on the planet and no orbital facilities save a few dozen satellites. It was a peaceful and scarcely populated world, which would have been more commonly found in what once was the Outer Colonies, but Sirius Alpha I had just never expanded as most of the Inner Colonies did. Why the Covenant would care about it Roland could not fathom except that he knew they were out to destroy anything at all human.

"ETA to our destination?" Roland inquired.

"Thirty-eight minutes, depending on future course corrections, sir," Apollo declared before Seville could respond.

"Increase power to engines, twenty percent, ensign."

"Aye sir."

How much longer could he stay on alert? The space before him was peaceful, there were only stars and rocks out there he see for himself. It was just one more patrol, another mission to be done, not particularly unique. Roland took a deep breath, and leaned on the railing in front of him.

"Marine details in place sir," Apollo announced.

"Very well, maintain situation until-"

"Captain!" Farrell nearly yelled from his station. "Incoming distress signal I can't get a location yet, its audio only."

"Put it on speakers lieutenant," Roland ordered.

"… To any UNSC forces in the sector this is Commodore Carlos Zedillo we are being pursued by a Covenant vessel and have taken heavy damage." Suddenly static consumed the channel.

"Lieutenant, what's wrong?"

"I don't know sir, but I'm seeing these readings correctly the transmission is originating in slip space. I'll try to reestablish the connection."

"Apollo." Roland passed along his intentions with a single word to the AI.

"Yes sir, I'll assist the lieutenant as well." Roland grew more at ease with the sudden change of pace; at least the waiting was over, for better or worse. "All combat personnel report to battle stations, prepare for contact with Covenant forces."

"Sir," Farrell said to get the captain's attention. "I've got them back. It's still a little garbled but hopefully it will do." The communications officer switched the bridge speakers back on.

"Repeat, this is Commodore Zedillo of the UNSC Confidence. We are being pursued by a Covenant vessel and have suffered…" Static consumed the channel momentarily. "enroute to the Sirius star system after making a blind jump. Request reinforcements…" Then the static resumed.

"Damn," was all Roland could say off the bat. The entire purpose of the Cole Protocol and random exit vectors was to prevent this exact situation from occurring. The chance that the vector would lead anywhere remotely close to the Inner Colonies was a million to one chance. "Lieutenant Farrell make sure that Captain Reece received the transmission. Commander, charge the MACs, and prime Archer missile pods A1 through D3."

"Aye sir." The two officers declared almost in unison.

"Apollo, search for the Confidence in the UNSC database, and initiate the Cole Protocol."

"Immediately sir," the AI replied.

"MAC capacitors at twenty percent and charging at five percent per second," Yakasora declared.

"Captain Reece and the Prophet acknowledging and responding they are en-route to us ETA four minutes," Farrell said.

"All right, come to a full stop, have all crew move out from the outer most decks of the ship and seal them once it's clear. Do we have an estimate to when the Confidence at her pursuer are going to jump in system?"

Apollo was slightly backlogged with all the processes, within only a few seconds, but quickly recovered. "The calculations are extraordinarily circumstantial due to the number of variables however I estimate their arrival to be in ten minutes."

"And what about the Confidence?"

"Very unusual Captain it appears that she is a Marathon class cruiser, however it was last reported at the Battle of Venator VIII almost a year ago. According to official UNSC records it was disabled by Covenant pulse lasers and had to be abandoned along with the rest of the vessels too damaged to retreat when the Covenant fleet began to incinerate the planet. It is listed as destroyed with all hand aboard."

"But there was no vessel in the area to say for certain that it was destroyed isn't that correct?" The Captain inquired.

"Sir, the Covenant has never been known to take prisoners much less an entire vessel. If the Confidence was disabled then it would have been destroyed in any case. I would suggest extreme caution before allowing the vessel passage into UNSC airspace."

Roland didn't want to believe what Apollo was saying, but he couldn't neglect the risk. There was a chance the Confidence was nothing more than a Covenant rouse. The lives of his crew were too important to risk on an assumption.

"All right, give me a channel to the Prophet Muhammad and request Fort Gibraltar send whatever reinforcements they can muster from Sirius Alpha I, if the Covenant are coming we'll need everything we can get."

"Channel open, sir," Farrell exclaimed.

"Captain," Roland said over the communications channel. "What do you make of the situation?"

"If it really is the Confidence then Zedillo has a lot of explaining to do. I'm keeping my distance from whatever enters the system one way or another, and I think it's best if you do the same."

"And the Covenant?"

"My only feeling is to open fire immediately and don't stop until their dead in space, captain," Reece declared.

"Agreed, bring the Prophet to our starboard side," Roland ordered, and then he turned to the AI pedestal. "Apollo, synchronize our firing solutions to maximize the effect of the MAC rounds."

"Computing," the synthetic voice announced. "Done, and may I also recommend that we prepare the remaining Archer missile pods for launch?"

"Yakasora," Roland turned to his weapons officer. "Arm all remaining missile pods and set for proximity detonation."

"Fort Gibraltar responding sir," Farrell spoke up. "A wing of Longswords are inbound on our position. ETA twenty minutes."

"All right, we're as ready as we're ever going to be," the captain announced. "Apollo, how long until the Confidence arrives?"

"Just under six minutes."

"All right send out a transmission to both FLEETCOM and Alpha Sirius I informing them of our situation, and request any additional reinforcements available," Roland ordered. Then he calmed down slightly and took a seat in the command chair. "Now the waiting game."

The battle klaxons still rang through the entire ship as it was on combat alert, every officer, marine, navy tech, man, and woman knew their purpose and they went about it without hesitation. The Isaac Brock was a well timed machine with every person aboard a fully functional component. Captain Roland was ready for a fight, his crew needed a victory, and hell Earth needed a victory too. No matter how small it would be, after the loss of Reach it was a necessity. Three minutes passed in what felt more like three hours. The Prophet Mohammad had assumed its position starboard of Roland's vessel and now both ships waited with their guns primed and ready.

The captain was standing behind Yakasora monitoring the status of the MAC gun charge when the ship's communications officer piped up.

"Sir Admiral Krüger from Alpha Centuri is sending a transmission," Farrell declared.

"Put him through immediately."

The lieutenant tapped a couple of controls at his console before the Admiral's voice erupted through the bridge comm system. "Captain, I've been informed of your status, but the closest expendable forces we have to you are over ten hours away."

"Yes sir," Roland was forced into acceptance.

"Only one Covenant vessel was listed en-route correct? That's hardly an invasion force. I'm ordering you and Captain Reece to maintain a defense of Sirius Alpha I. However if you encounter a more powerful opposition you are to break for the planet try and get as many civilians out as possible then execute a blind jump out of the system."

"What about the Confidence?" Roland asked his superior.

"That ship was lost almost a year ago, the Covenant are up to something, be on guard, Krüger out."

Roland didn't know what to make of it, two destroyers versus an unknown Covenant vessel. It really should have been a straightforward mission, they outnumbered their enemy. They should have been able to beat them back or at least give them a strong show of force before enemy reinforcements arrived. The plan was just too simple on paper to be true.

"Apollo, send Captain Reece our new orders," Roland said.

"The Prophet Muhammad replies that orders have been received and acknowledged," the AI said.

"Good, get the Pelican crews to their birds just in case-" the captain began to say before Ensign Seville interrupted.

"Captain!" She exclaimed. "Vessel exiting from slipspace, distance 3000 km."

"What is she?" The captain inquired, feeling the sweat begin to moisten his forehead

"It's one of ours, sir," the ensign said with surprise. "Marathon class cruiser UNSC designation Confidence."

"Activate engines," Roland ordered. "Close the distance between us."

"Captain, need I remind you that this could still be a potential trap," Apollo cautioned

"No you don't, one way or another we need to get closer, and the MACs won't be able to even hit it if it was a threat at this distance."

"Captain, another vessel exiting slipspace, this one's just outside of the system," Seville announced. "Sir it's Covenant!"

Apollo quickly switched on the long range camera array focusing on the new arrival. The vessel was enormous, at least five times as long as either one of the two UNSC ships. Its surfaces were smooth and curved, the entire vessel resembled something more organic than mechanical. Roland had seen these before, a Covenant heavy cruiser, officially designated as CSC class cruiser, it was more than a match for a comparable class UNSC vessel, and the problem was his destroyer was outclassed even by that.

"Apollo, can you make out any distinction marks or anything on that cruiser to tell us what it is?" The UNSC over years of fighting the Covenant slowly amassed a registry of known enemy vessels, hopefully to estimate just what size of armada they actually wielded. Unfortunately so many vessels were without records because they simply left no witnesses to report them.

"Negative captain, but based on its structural basis and energy readings it appears to be a standard Covenant heavy cruiser, normal armament of plasma torpedoes, and pulse lasers."

"Captain, incoming message from Captain Reece," Farrell exclaimed.

"Put her on."

"Captain, I think it's best if we keep our distance from the Confidence, I'm detected low power levels, they could be trying to hide something from us."

"We can't afford to wait, if there is still a crew left on her then their as good as dead once that Covenant cruiser decides to make a pinpoint jump in system."

"I hope you know what you're doing," she concluded.

Roland wished he knew what he was doing as well. "Get me a channel through to the Confidence and put us between her and that cruiser out there."

"Captain all I'm getting is static, their communications looks like it was severely damaged," the lieutenant declared, but a second later a momentary breath of life seemed to appear. "Wait a minute, there was a flash signal; give me a second to connect us. There I got it!"

"UNSC vessels this is Commodore Zedillo," an unclean signal said through the communications system.

"We read you commodore, I'm Captain Marcus Roland UNSC Isaac Brock what is your status?"

"The majority of our weapons systems have been destroyed or disabled and engines should be operating at 10% in about five minutes. We used the last of our juice to get us through slipspace, and there are hull breaches on nearly every deck," the beleaguered commodore said.

"Hold tight, we can't send over any personnel to assist you yet, but once you have your engines online plot a course for Sirius Alpha I, we'll retask the Longswords to escort you there."

"Thank you captain."

That was one problem dealt with, but that just left the most dangerous one still holding position on the far edge of the system. It appeared to be a classic duel, no obstructions save a few hundred thousand kilometers of vacuum between them. The opponents starred one another down, but unlike the UNSC vessels with weapons armed and ready the Covenant vessel was passive, with power levels at a minimum. Just like two knights before a medieval joust the opposing sides didn't budge an inch. Two six hundred ton MAC rounds were being held back only by a magnetic force which would soon propel it to just over a tenth of the speed of light.

On the bridge of the Isaac Brock however, Captain Roland was not as unshakeable as his vessel was. The enemy position bothered him, why didn't they attack? The Covenant were known for their ferocity in battle, almost charging head on despite the risks. Their tactics here didn't match, they obviously wanted the Confidence else they wouldn't have chased it all the way through slipspace. A cruiser was also powerful enough to destroy their two destroyers, at least in the eye of the Covenant. Where they calling for reinforcements? That was unlikely, the Covenant never waited for back-up unless they were challenged by an overwhelming opposition, and even then it was only fifty percent of the time.

"Commodore Zedillo," Roland said to the other vessel once he'd opened a new channel. "Was this the only vessel to pursue you?"

"Yes, we were in the Epsilon Eridani system when this cruiser jumped in and spotted us, we engaged but took heavy damage and were forced to retreat."

"You were at Reach?" the captain said nearly letting his jaw slip to the floor. The commodore was about to respond when a jolt shook forward portion of the Isaac Brock. "Apollo what the hell was that?"

The AI ran a quick series of analyses spanning no more than a second. "Enemy single ship fighters, Seraphs, at least a dozen of them sir. They powered down to escape detection."

"Apollo, get me firing solutions on as many as you can then lock them into the Archer guidance packages. Those bastards are going to get a high yield explosive present."

"Aye sir," the AI acknowledged. It took another brief instant to process then complete the order. "Solutions locked and ready."

"Commander, take them out." Yakasora initiated the launch and five separate plumes of rocket exhaust emerged from the Isaac Brock, the Prophet Muhammad replied in kind only a second later launching six more.

All around the two destroyers fire was exchanged as the Seraphs took potshots at the destroyers and tried to evade the missiles that pursued them. One fighter along with his wingman were both killed when Archers from two different directions encroached on them, and in the process of making an evasive maneuver the two collided and the missiles were retasked to additional targets. The Seraph's weapons weren't capable of penetrating the two meters of Titanium-A that protected both destroyers but they persisted even as one by one they were tracked down and destroyed by the missiles.

When only a handful remained one Seraph pursued by a missile, swung in for a strafing run on the Prophet Muhammad. It fired a quick burst of plasma damaging a patch of the destroyer's armor, but rather than turn, it accelerated into the hull. From every corner of the ship the impact could be felt as the Seraph crushed itself against the rigid exterior. While the crash along wasn't enough to breach the armor the missile that had been pursuing the Seraph was too fast for any AI to reprogram and impacted in the same spot as the collision. The explosive force ripped through the remaining armor and gouged a four meter hole in the Prophet's hull decompression the entire section and taking three unfortunate crew members into the vacuum before the blast doors were secured.

It wasn't a minute after the impact that danger presented itself again, in an instant the cruiser that once waited at the edge of the system disappeared into slipspace, but before the AIs or officers of either ship could alert their captains the Covenant warship reappeared just over ten kilometers in front of the destroyers.

"Lock in both firing solutions for the MACs and fire!" Roland exclaimed. Yakasora didn't even bother with a response and instead ensured that Apollo's firing solutions were active then launched then fired the heavy rounds. Two streaks emerged from each of the destroyers towards the cruiser on almost the same vector. "Give full power to engines, and move us back to at least fifty kilometers from that cruiser, ensign."

The powerful roar of the main engines came to life as the destroyer jolted forward, and then began to turn to port. The Prophet was not far behind in making its turn to starboard. The MAC rounds in the meantime accelerated towards the cruiser and struck right at the vessels nose. All four slammed into the shields less than twenty meters apart from the furthest round away from it, a tribute to the AI's accuracy. The momentum of the rounds lit up the shields across the entire vessel it was a battle of tug o' war between the momentum of four six hundred ton ferric-tungsten shells and an alien energy shield. The shield's force drained the inertia from the MAC rounds and slowed them from instantly from their initial speed. The shields lit up but right as it appeared the MAC rounds didn't have enough in them the shields gave out under the pressure. The four shells with what ever momentum they had left slammed against the hull of the cruiser slamming its nose it over ten meters further into the hull and visibly venting atmosphere.

Roland watched the whole event through the rear monitor as his vessel was now only four kilometers away from the cruiser and his firing arc perpendicular to the enemy. He didn't like his situation but it was the fastest way to put some distance between them and the enemy. If they stayed this close there would be no room to evade incoming plasma torpedoes. The response was quick, beams of blue light struck both destroyers melting away the Titanium armor that guarded them.

"Pulse lasers sir," Seville reported. Armor integrity on decks D-J are at forty percent, no hull breaches though." Roland was feeling lucky so far.

"Isaac Brock this is Foxtrot Ranger Seven on station, what are your orders?" the commander of the Longsword squadron asked.

"Escort the Confidence back to Sirius Alpha I, keep the Covenant off of her she's taken heavy damage and operating on minimal power," Roland declared.

"Roger that, Foxtrot Ranger Seven Out."

The situation then got gravely worse. "Captain the Covenant vessel is turning and bringing its torpedo turrets to bear," Apollo declared. Both the Prophet and Isaac Brock were facing with their backs to the enemy pulling back at full speed but the plasma could outrun them any way.

Blood red light pooled along three separate points of the cruiser's hull, the enemy could destroy every UNSC vessel there in a single volley. Captain Roland faced a serious dilemma, and his opposition was holding all the trump cards now.

"Status of the MAC guns?" Roland inquired.

"Seventy percent and climbing at a rate of 4 percent per second," Yakasora answered.

"Maintain the charge and fire on my orders. Load all fore and aft Archer missile pods as well," the captain ordered. "Ensign, push the engines to one-hundred twenty percent, full forward thrust, heading zero three one four."

"Apollo, send word to the Prophet to set their course at a heading of zero one three six, and to match speed with us. I've got something in store for those Covenant bastards."

The two destroyers pushed on ahead as the cruiser continued to bombard them with sporadic pulse laser hits along the armor bring portions to dangerously low depths and hull breaches in two cases. That was only harassment though, the big guns were fully charged now. The light had collected into three massive points along the cruiser's hull before being simultaneously launched at the three UNSC vessels. Only seconds after launch the targets of each torpedo was clear by its vector, two headed straight for the Isaac Brock while the third was on course for the Prophet. For the time being the Covenant didn't have an interest in the crippled cruiser, which was fortunate since it was a sitting duck.

"Torpedoes away! Impact in one minute ten seconds," Seville announced from his console.

"Get me the Prophet now!" Roland burst. Farrell typed furiously at the console then announced his success. "Transfer your helm and weapon control to your AI, captain. I've got a plan but our two ships have to be in sync for it to work."

"I think I know where you going with this," Reece declared. "Good luck captain, helm and weapons are in your hands now."

"Captain!" Seville exclaimed. "Impact in thirty seconds."

Roland had to act fast. He approached the navigation station and entered a new set of coordinates. "Apollo, on my mark engage emergency thrusters and move us to this spot, same goes with the Prophet."

"Fifteen seconds, sir." Seville said with ever increasing urgency. It wasn't just because of the intensity of the situation that the temperature had risen, the two spheres of superheated gas that pursued them were affecting the internal climate as well.

"Rear camera now!" Roland commanded furiously, then the two plasma bolts appeared on the viewscreen so close he could almost touch them.

"Ten seconds."

The captain gripped the railing with his powerful clinched fists. "Fire all rear missiles at the cruiser!"

"Eight seconds."

"Apollo, engage thrusters on my mark."

"Four seconds, three, two…"

"MARK!" Then the entire ship rocked as a sudden thrust pushed the vessel to port and together with the main engines still pushing forward put the lumbering destroyer into a tight turn. At the same time the Prophet Muhammad which was on a diverging course executed the same maneuver turning tightly to starboard and putting both vessels in a similar position as they were before.

The crew was shaken by the sudden maneuver but the plasma had passed by them and couldn't make a U-turn as quickly as the destroyers had. The two destroyers were now lined side by side traveling directly towards the Covenant cruiser's starboard side at full speed now.

"Captain, engines at critical temp the coolant can't hold it," Seville declared.

"Dump primary coolant and pump in the reserves, prepare to transfer all power to the MAC capacitors, I want to get off four quick shots."

"Aye captain, reserve coolant active. It'll be good for about five minutes at most."

"Apollo, target the enemy engines, and send it to the Prophet," Roland declared. "Commander launch all remaining forward Archer missiles, every pod, make sure they're empty."

Rocket plumes spread out from both vessels as hundreds of missiles took off. "The plasma torpedoes have turned about and are on an intercept course. ETA fifty and eighty seconds."

"Firing solutions prepared and ready," the AI said calmly.

"Commander fire the MACs!" Then the four heavy rounds emerged from both destroyers heading straight towards the cruiser's aft. "All stop. Dump engine power into the capacitors."

"Aye sir, all stop." Seville replied.

"MACs at ten percent and charging at eight percent per second," Yakasora announced.

"Direct all the missiles towards the starboard side of the cruiser, see if we can't take out those plasma turrets once the shields are down."

"Acknowledged, sir," Apollo's translucent figure said.

The MAC rounds already accelerated by the initial velocity of the two destroyers closed the distance to the cruiser even faster than normal. This time as the four rounds collided with the shield the struggle was far more one sided. After expending so much energy to the plasma torpedoes, regenerating the shields from nothing, and a pinpoint jump only minutes beforehand the MAC rounds broke through in just under a second maintaining much of their momentum. The super dense shells rammed into the rear of the vessel, crushing, or splitting anything in their path. All four passed straight through from one side of the cruiser to the other. They tore a hole three quarters the size of one of the destroyers into the cruiser's rear and rapid decompression ripped away even more.

Just as the damage was being assessed by the observers onboard the destroyers a second salvo of four shells was launched this time aimed at the center of the cruiser in the hopes of hitting the command centre. To add to the Covenant difficulties the Archer missiles had caught up and despite the cruisers best attempts to fend them off with pulse lasers there were too many to stop them all. Approximately fifty missiles blossomed against the side of the cruiser tearing away the metal plating revealing the superstructure.

The plasma torpedo pursuing the Prophet Muhammad suddenly lost it cohesion and dissipated into the vacuum, the magnetic field controlling it was destroyed when the missiles impacted. The other two remained on a steady course towards the Isaac Brock

"Our MAC rounds will hit in twenty seconds but the torpedoes are still on route. The first one is going to hit us at the same time as we get them," Seville informed the captain.

"Best possible speed turn us about, get everyone in the rear sections out of there on the double!" The captain could order it but the reactions just weren't that fast. The heavy vessel no sooner could start its engines then the impact of the first torpedo. The burning ball of plasma struck the destroyer on the rear port side instantly vaporizing the two meters of Titanium-A armor that protected the ship. The plasma continued inwards consuming more and more, and completely melting one of the vessel's primary engines before continuing on. Secondary explosions began to erupt as the atmosphere within the hull was ignited.

On the bridge the effect was quick, main power disappeared instantly, Apollo stayed online only because of battery reserves. Captain Roland didn't even get up from the metal deck where he fell after the impact of the plasma. "Vent the atmosphere in all affected sections!"

"Yes sir," Apollo replied with the unwavering calmness that an AI could have at that time. The captain knew that at that moment he'd probably condemned at least fifty if not a hundred brave souls to their deaths but they were dead from the plasma anyway. He had more pressing concerns to deal with.

"Lieutenant Farrell get me Captain Reece." But when he turned to face the officers console there were only sparks, and charred metal. Farrell laid sprawled on the deck not moving.

"Captain, the other torpedo," Seville alerted him. The viewscreen despite taking damage from an overhead bulkhead was still operating and monitoring the rear camera array. The second plasma torpedo was only seconds away from hitting them nearly in the identical spot as the first one which would gut the ship straight through.

"Apollo what's our status? Can we move?"

"Primary systems down, radar and sensors down, communications offline. Reserve power in one minute." It wasn't enough, Captain Roland could see no other solution then to stand firmly in the middle of his bridge, pull his ruffled uniform down and watch as his demise approached. Every second an eternity.

"Good work, everyone." He said as a conclusion to his life, but it was not to be. Just as the camera appeared to show nothing other than a burning red inferno, a blackness obscured the view. Followed by a knock that shook the ship but nothing near the impact they'd expected. The viewscreen then cleared showing only empty space. The captain couldn't understand what had happened; he threw orders out frantically to find out what had transpired. The viewscreen flipped from array to array to find one with an explanation of what had gone on until across the screen Roland saw the Confidence venting atmosphere and in a slow roll, missing nearly a quarter of its hull at the bottom the obvious result of a plasma torpedo.

They'd been saved the jaws of death, and it was time to repay the favor the captain felt. "When will we have reserve power?"

"Ten seconds," Apollo replied quickly.

"Yakasora can we fire off another MAC round?"

The commander was slow to reply, his console was barely running and blood ran down his forehead into his eyes. "The coils of number one are fused, there's no chance we can use it. The other one is damaged but may be operable I can't tell from up here, we'll need an engineering team to double-check the systems."

"Apollo, get a hold of engineering and have them send a team to the MAC guns."

"Sir, I cannot. Engineering was almost completely destroyed, and all the atmosphere has been vented," the AI replied. "I will locate personnel once the internal sensors are back on."

The captain clasped his hands over his face. So many lost, but he had to keep going. "Give me a view of the enemy cruiser."

Apollo switched arrays but without the aid of sensors it was a process of trial and error to locate the Covenant vessel. It was found though, and to Roland's amazement it was still in the fight and moving towards the wounded Isaac Brock and Confidence.

"Captain Roland respond. This is the Prophet Muhammad, please reply." The voice of the UNSC destroyer's communications officer said over the restored system.

"Roland here. We've been hit badly. Primary power is gone and we're operating on reserves, engines are history and weapons are questionable."

"Okay captain, we'll try and finish her off but our MAC system was disabled, and we're running low on missiles," Reece explained. "I'm redirecting the Longswords to protect you and strafe the cruiser."

The situation was desperate, the two destroyers had thrown everything they had at the cruiser and it definitely showed it but the UNSC was still the one on the downside. Twelve MAC rounds and scores of missiles yet the Covenant continued on. It was a Tsunami, a tidal wave that could not be stopped nor withstood, it simply consumed everything it its path. A stream of pulse lasers erupted from the cruiser and struck on the bow armor, which had suffered the least so far but was quickly breached in two spots.

"Missile pods A1 and F6 destroyed sir," Yakasora declared.

It could be worse, Roland thought. They were out of missiles anyway.

The cruiser continued to approach however, it was unwavering. The four Longswords swooped in from behind the Isaac Brock delivering a payload of heavy ordinance to the Covenant vessel. Pulse lasers returned fire catching one pilot on the wing and sending the entire vessel into a fatal spin before it was destroyed by the subsequent stress of the rotation. The other three diverted off to prepare for another attack run.

Roland almost saw it as pointless, the ship had taken eleven heavy MAC rounds according Apollo, one from the last volley was evaded, and yet it still pressed on and fired. The silhouette just grew larger and larger on the viewscreen.

"Ensign Seville where is the Prophet?" The captain asked.

"Five kilometers to port on an intercept course with the cruiser," the young officer replied. "But she's not going to make it here before the Covenant will."

"Commander what about the MAC?"

"No response sir, its inoperable."

Captain Marcus Roland breathed deep, it seemed that he was out of options, save one. "Apollo set the ship for self-destruct, rig the fusion reactors to overload. Have all hands abandon ship." He looked around at the remains of his bridge, despite all the hell they had been through the two Marines assigned to guard the bridge were still present and Crewmen Petrov and Callum still manned their stations. "Everyone, get to the escape pod."

No matter how solemn a moment it was, the bridge crew fled quickly to the command escape pod. Only the captain remained behind, standing alone beside the holographic AI pedestal, watching the cruiser grow closer, still firing the occasional burst of pulse laser fire.

"Apollo, what is the blast radius of the fusion reactors under overload?"

"Three kilometers," the AI replied quickly.

"And how far is the enemy cruiser?"

"Three point eight and closing."

"Set the self destruct, priority Alpha, authorization Roland, Marcus C. code 05112546SAMANTHA. Detonate on confirmation that the area is clear of all UNSC vessels and personnel."

"Affirmative captain."

"Thank you Apollo." The projection disappeared within the pedestal and didn't return. It was a sorrow goodbye to a good ship but a necessary one.

But before the captain could turn to leave, new objects appeared on the tactical display. Double checking the viewscreen he saw a dozen Archer missiles strike the Covenant cruiser's rear. For another moment it flew straight but then began to drift to port. As it turned the damage could be seen, the last missiles struck the only part of the ship that kept the engines and rear quarter of the ship still attached to the rest of the superstructure. Without it the cruiser no longer had control and lost power.

"Apollo, cancel the self destruct." Roland ordered as he watched the ruined vessel lose control and alter course erratically. Apollo issued a message for any remaining crew to remain aboard as the self destruct was abandoned. The captain could not however look away from the screen as the broken and beaten cruiser continued to glide through space. The bridge crew which had been waiting for the captain at the escape pod returned just in time to see the Covenant cruiser break apart as a number of explosions rippled through the interior of the vessel. They refused to allow the vessel to be taken in anything less than a million pieces.

Unwavering to the end, Roland thought, but at least it was their end not ours.

Skirmish at Sirius Alpha Part 2
Date: 17 April 2006, 5:41 am

1046 Hours, October 2, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Destroyer Isaac Brock under repair in the Sirius Alpha System

Captain Roland stood on the remains of his bridge not entirely certain why he was still alive and for that matter why his ship for the most part remained in one piece. Two entire engineering teams were dispatched to facilitate bridge repairs alone, and the forward half of the ship got the least of the attack. The Covenant did a number on the UNSC vessels but inevitably they were the ones still intact meanwhile the enemy debris was nothing more than a navigational hazard now. The thing that worried Roland now was a renewed Covenant attack, they never gave up until they accomplished an attack so the captain doubt that this would be the last time they say the enemy in the Sirius Alpha system.

Pelicans from both the Isaac Brock and the Prophet Muhammad were facilitating repairs by ferrying supplies and men between the three damaged vessels in the area. The Confidence which was by far in the worst shape had the much smaller Muhammad docked to its hull hardpoint to speed up repairs. In the calm after the battle FLEETCOM had been informed of their status and a mobile repair station was redirected to the system together with two frigates as escort. The Sirius Alpha system would soon see more UNSC forces in it than ever before for the peaceful and often ignored colony within the inner sphere of human populated space.

Aboard the Isaac Brock most of the surviving engineering crew was working on reclaiming the engineering section back from the vacuum. Deck by deck they had to re-pressurize and secure the area, it was a long a laborious process but necessary to get to the vessel's main fusion reactor and begin repairs so that they could make a slipspace jump to Alpha Centuri. The captain in the meantime had a more emotionally disturbing task: going over the casualty list from the battle. For certain it was not an uplifting document. A hundred and thirteen souls were either reported killed or missing when the plasma torpedo hit their aft. Twenty others suffered injuries because of the impact. Reports from the Prophet Muhammad were not as grave but they didn't escape unscathed though. A total of eighty-four killed, missing, and injured. The Confidence on the other hand had no figures to report although Roland could only guess the number was probably astronomical. They had been behind enemy lines for almost a year and just in their last engagement had nearly a quarter of their entire superstructure melted away. That was all to take down a single Covenant vessel, a heavy cruiser it may have been, but just one vessel out of an unknown and enormous armada.

A pair of engineers arrived on the bridge covered in sweat grease and dirt on their yellow uniforms. They didn't look very optimistic and that didn't give the captain much hope in the situation overall. "Captain, we just got back from the MAC gun. The plasma fused the accelerator coils together. Number one needs replacement, there's no question about it. Number two though we just need to bring a few spare parts from storage and it'll be up and running by 1600 hours sir," the first one declared.

"Very good, continue with the repairs."

"There was just one thing sir," the second engineer began. "There's trouble down on deck F in the Pelican bays."

"What's happening Olsen?" the captain asked calling the man as it read on his uniform.

"It's the engineering crews from the Prophet, they're trying to order our guys around down there," the engineer declared. "And if I can be candid sir they don't know a damn thing about this ship whatsoever."

"Where's Chief Vertessi?"

"Captain, he was in engineering when the plasma hit," the crewman said with remorse for his fallen superior. "Commander Newstead was there as well. Lieutenant Sauer was trying to take charge but this officer from the Prophet came in and pulled rank on her and took command of the repair effort."

Just what he needed, a squabble between crews over rank and authority. Roland didn't like it though, this was his ship and his crew was in charge while they were on the Isaac Brock. "Thank you for telling me. I'll take care of it right away."

The two engineers left the bridge but the captain still was undecided on how to take action. He needed to put out flames not start more so he went to the elevator deciding to handle the situation personally. Besides there was no real advantage to him being on the bridge, Yakasora, Seville, and the other surviving bridge crew had the situation well in hand. Which reminded him, he was going to have to find a replacement for Farrell. By that point the captain had been so saturated by death around him that the young lieutenant was one more name to a never ending tally. He had to be, because if every name among the billions had a story, no human being could go on with the regret of those lost in the war.

With all three wounded vessels drifting almost without adjustment or correction throughout the void of space on minimal power there was no notice of the small object that jumped into the system nearby Sirius Alpha I. It was a small craft, not even the size of a UNSC corvette, Prowler, or private yacht. The smooth curves and characteristic colors gave it away as a Covenant vessel, but there was no one alert to notice its presence. Instead the small scout moved towards the system's star, avoiding contact with the human colony for the moment. Its purpose was intelligence, and communications. Its pilot was content to stand-by and watch the human efforts and pass the information along to others. His vessel wasn't capable of engaging the human forces; despite their situation he lacked powerful shields or any plasma torpedo turrets. He'd arrived too late for the first battle but would not miss the next.

Roland was on his way back up from the ship's docking bay, having defused what was even more of a tense situation then he originally believed it to be. There was a lot of hot-heads running around after their battle, victory against the Covenant was something everyone wanted but a lot of people had died that day and victory didn't bring them back. He just had to be a commanding presence, as much as tensions increased, military discipline held firmly in place. The crew of any vessel respected and understood his authority, now the repair effort was back on schedule; the Isaac Brock's reactor was going to be back up before two o'clock standard military time. That was the full extent of the good news on the ship's repair front though; everything else operated at a snail's pace and wouldn't be anywhere near fully functional until the repair platform arrived and could conduct a real repair. The lights in the corridor were flickering on and off and the captain had to step over the parts of the overhead bulkheads, which had been thrown, into the hallways. Blood stained a nearby wall, it was only a patch around shoulder height most likely from a crew member being hit against the wall during one of the ship's evasive maneuvers.

"Captain Roland, your needed on the bridge," Apollo's voice resounded through the comm system through the ship. There was something of urgency in his voice that was not normally there, an almost emotional feeling to his message which only alarmed the captain more. Roland picked up his pace almost running over some of the crewmen working on repairs like welding the metal plating back up. Thoughts raced through his mind as he entered into the elevator and pressed the button to deck A and the bridge. It couldn't be the Covenant, Roland didn't have any reason why it could not, but it was all he could hope for to not think of his ship as his tomb. Three wounded animals just waiting to be taken apart by the enemy. They didn't need to be overwhelmed it was only a matter of being faced with any opposition that would finish off the UNSC presence in the system. There was never an end to the dilemma only one more obstacle to overcome followed quickly by another and another. The hull integrity across the grid was almost non-existent, all the Archer missiles were gone, MACs down in disrepair, and no single craft cover as the Longswords had all returned to Sirius Alpha I. The captain went through the tally of what resources he had at his disposal, and it was a short list to say the least. The only offensive armaments he had were the three Shiva nuclear tipped missiles still stored in the ship's armory, but launching any of them at close-range was a death wish, even worse they had no real power in the engines to move out of the way. The plasma torpedo hit had virtually melted the main engines, and dropped their efficiency levels to a maximum of 20% and that was only with full reactor power operational. The odds were decisively against them in a stand-up fight so there had to be another way to win the fight. He searched for it but as the elevator came to halt and the doors slid apart he still had none.

"Apollo, report," Roland said immediately as he passed through the entranceway to the ship's command center.

"Just prior to the destruction of the Covenant vessel I detected an unusual electromagnetic emission emitting from it. After further analysis I have concluded that it was a distress signal."

Roland shrouded his face with his hands. "How long did the signal last for?"

"Four-point three milliseconds, sir," the AI declared.

Just enough time for any Covenant vessel in a radius of a light year to pick up, the captain thought silently. "Have the sensors detected any incoming vessels?"

"Long range detection systems are still offline and the Prophet Muhammad has powered down their own in order to conduct a power transfer to the Confidence, sir," Apollo said.

"What about the Geneva sensor station in the Cetus system?"

"One moment sir, I'll need to access the UNSC sensor grid network." The AI became a continuous stream of binary computations; monitoring the repair process, ship status, and the latest assignments pushed Apollo's processing capabilities to almost near capacity. He was just a standard shipboard AI, though more than capable of running the Isaac Brock by himself but was only capable of that alone. Five seconds passed in silence between the two; meanwhile engineering crews were still hard at work making enough noise to wake the dead. "Geneva station reports no unusual slip space activity or mass/density profiles similar to Covenant vessels."

They were safe for the moment but how long could that last, Roland needed more assurance, he ordered a priority communications channel opened with Vice Admiral Krüger.

"What's wrong Captain?" the admiral inquired immediately once his image appeared on a small view screen on the bridge.

"The Covenant cruiser, before it was destroyed, sent out a distress signal," Roland declared. "We could be in store for a lot more trouble than we bargained for."

The admiral scratched his balding head showing the same frustration that Roland felt. "God damn these bastards don't seem to give up." Krüger paused momentarily and checked his office for the duty assignments for his sector of space, which included the Isaac Brock and Prophet Muhammad. "The Ho Chi Minh, Horn, and Trygve Lie are en-route to you now, that's everything though, Captain. Once Commodore Minnelli arrives you're to inform him of the situation and hand over operational command. The Waterloo and Huron are still inbound so they should be able to fortify your position until the rest of the task force arrives, but your priority should be to attempt repairs as quickly as possible."

"And if the Covenant reply in heavy force, sir?"

"I've already sent word to Sirius Alpha I, all civilian population centers have been ordered to be evacuated and jump out of the system. It is essential that our forces do not incur heavy casualties, if circumstances demand it; all UNSC forces are to withdraw from the system if overwhelmed. I repeat, do not attempt to hold the planet if it is at the cost of your lives. We need as many vessels as we can get, understood captain?"

"Aye, sir."

"Good, Minnelli has been given the same orders, Krüger out."

That conversation settled a lot of the dust that surrounded their position, but until reinforcements arrived Roland wouldn't be comfortable. There were still some fifteen hundred UNSC personnel helplessly drifting in space making repairs to the three vessels, as well as a few million civilians still in the system. They were in a precarious situation, on the edge of a cliff per say, and Roland couldn't even see the bottom of the chasm he stood before.

Ninth Age of Reclamation
Aboard the Covenant carrier Feverous Devotion

The gold-armored elite, a Zealot, stared at the holographic display in front of him; he would have to present his findings to the lower Prophet "commanding" the fleet. Of course he was the one responsible for the workings of the ship and the entire force of vessels, but it was really the elites that performed the work. There was nothing irritating in that however; the Prophets no matter their rank were the revered ones, the closest thing they had to contact with the Forerunners. He was the Ship Master though and he was the highest authority on board the Feverous Devotion.

The Covenant task force had a lowly task of monitoring a small part of the vast the conquered space, which used to belong to the pitiful humans. As they progressed further and further into the heart of the enemy's territory their task became more demanding and more vessels from the Covenant fleet were assigned to the duty. He was the one who dispatched the Mercy and Confirmation to the former human fortress world they called Reach, it was supposed to be a usual mission, but when the vessel failed to report back alarms were set off throughout the fleet. Reconnaissance craft were sent out to locate the lost cruiser, brave warriors of the Covenant cause were onboard, they needed to be found so the Prophets decreed.
Then out of the darkness there came word to the fleet, one of the dozens of ships they'd sent out picked up a faint signal originating from a single star system less than half a dozen light years from the Mercy and Confirmation's last known position.

It was investigated and they knew now it could only have been their lost vessel. A mighty cruiser lost to the pitiful human forces, which he considered barely a sentient species. They were wounded however, weak, and vulnerable. The time to strike was now, essentially he had two cruisers and his own carrier at his command, and additional forces if need be could be relied upon to come to their aid. Authority was derived from the Prophets though, and he needed still to present his findings before any action could be taken. The wheels would move slowly, but at least he had his eyes on the battlefield, he would know what the human infidels were doing, and when the moment was right he would eradicate their filth from the galaxy.

1800 Hours, October 2, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Destroyer Isaac Brock under repair in the Sirius Alpha System

The three commanders sat around the table in the Isaac Brock's officers club, their crews had all been pressed doubly hard over the past day, and there was still more work to be done. Reece and Roland at last met Commodore Zedillo, he appeared disheveled, having lost hours of sleep and gone without a shave in for a number of weeks. His uniform was stained from its traditional grey by blood, and was torn along the sleeves and waist. The officer truly looked as though he'd been through hell and back, and the two junior officers showed their respect for that.

"It's been a while since I've enjoyed this," Zedillo declared after taking a first sip of Brandy. "For a while I thought that I would never taste it again, but you two saved my crew and my ship. I owe you both a great debt."

"Unfortunately commodore we're not out of the frying pan just yet," Roland declared.

"Yes, before the Covenant cruiser was destroyed it was able to get out a distress signal, we could be in store for company very shortly," Reece explained. "If what my crew says is true your vessel's main reactor is now operating at roughly three quarters of optimum so you can now continue normal operation."

"Our reactor has been repaired however the damage we suffered from the last plasma torpedo did a good deal of damage to our superstructure, we can't risk a slip space jump until its been reinforced else the entire ship will buckle and break apart. We're stuck in this system for the time being."

"The Isaac Brock is in the same circumstance but I don't know whether or not we'll be able to even attempt a slip space jump ever. The engines took the brunt of the hit, and our number one is out of commission and irreparable," Roland added. He looked around the oak walls of the room, seeing the ornamental ceremony and history of the ship. The brilliant blue and white flag of the UNSC, and a portrait of the 19th century British war hero for whom the vessel was named for in the centre. It was unthinkable to believe that the Isaac Brock may have been unserviceable and therefore nothing more than scrap.

"Well until the repair and refit station arrives I think everything is speculation," Reece said. "And it along with its escorts should arrive at any time now. We can assess things better then."

"She's right," Zedillo agreed. "God knows the Confidence has looked as though it would never move again but the old beast somehow pulled through."

"Speaking of which commodore. How is it that you and your crew made it here? For almost a year you've been listed as lost with all hands aboard," Roland inquired. It was inevitable that the question would arise and the captain was just as curious as ONI section three would be.

"It's a long story to say the least, but after all you've been through I imagine you'd like to know anyway," Zedillo said. He paused momentarily and collected his thoughts recalling all the circumstances that led up to that moment. "It was December 3rd 2551 when I received an order to drop everything and head to Venator VIII at full speed, we had been just out of space dock for a minor refit, and barely had enough time to do a proper reactor shakedown. When we arrived though we knew exactly why we'd been hastened. On the outskirts of the system a Covenant fleet had massed, a total of fifteen vessels, if I can remember correctly there were four cruisers, a carrier and the rest were lighter craft: destroyers, frigates, and that sort. Admiral Al-Kaman had only twenty-one under his command including the Confidence. There wasn't a chance in hell we could win, but we had to buy enough time for a planetary evacuation so we prepared to engage. I was the second highest ranked officer present within the fleet so the admiral issued me a temporary field promotion to task force commander and put me in charge of a small contingent of the fleet. Eight vessels all together: the cruiser Tempest, destroyers Legacy, Orion, Mediterranean, frigates Independence, Karl Marx, Bismarck, and the Confidence of course."

The older commodore paused for a second, then chuckled at the irony. "Amazing I can still remember each of them to this day. In any event Al-Kaman had a special purpose for our task force, the system's two stars were wrecking havoc with our sensors at long range and the only way we knew the enemy was there was because of the Clarion drones we had in position. We took up position on the opposite side of the gas giant Venator IX where Covenant sensors couldn't detect us. The plan was to wait until the enemy came in system and turned to engage the remainder of the fleet, we would pull out from under cover and catch the enemy by surprise. It was a good plan; hell I thought we may have had a shot. Everything began as we expected the Covenant did a pinpoint jump in system and closed in on the fleet, they turned their broadsides and charged their plasma turrets and launched those damn Seraph fighters. Al-Kaman opened fire, MAC rounds, missiles, and even a pair of Shiva warheads were launched before they began evasive maneuvers and closed on the Covenant. I think that first salvo destroyed a pair of frigates and a single destroyer but the enemy was in such a loose formation that the damage of the heavy weapons was ineffective. That's when our force received the signal to proceed. We charged around the gas giant and just as planned we caught the Covenant completely off guard. While they prepared to annihilate the admiral's force with a combined broadside of at least two dozen plasma torpedoes our eight vessels came from behind on their opposite side. Our combined force was able to get off thirteen heavy MAC rounds before those bastards even knew we were there. Four of them were out of the fight for good, and that included two of their cruisers. It looked as though we had exploited their weakness for the moment, but they launched their torpedoes."

The commodore covered his face and took a deep breath. "We didn't see it coming. They arced four of them right over their own ships and sent them in our direction, they didn't even need to charge their other turrets. The Orion was the first of ours to go, she didn't even have a chance to evade, and the torpedo struck her forward and vaporized the bridge. Independence was next, we lost contact, later I saw she'd been split in two by the plasma, which burned through the entire structure. The Legacy that had been at the front of the attack took the last two, she was reduced to molten slag in a moment, not a single life pod made it off. The rest of the plasma went off towards the admiral's force and had the same effect. That one enemy volley destroyed nine of our ships in that short of a time. A melee ensued, our Longswords and their Seraphs entered into the fray. We got off another three heavy rounds and eliminated an enemy destroyer, but it was the beginning of the end. The Admiral's squadron had been decimated and his own carrier had taken serious damage, which was when one of the Covenant cruisers turned to engage us. Pulse lasers hit the Confidence; our communications array, thruster and engine control went dead in an instant. Hull breaches lined our ventral side, and we were left with only inertia. It was at that moment I knew we were out of the fight; engineering said it would be at least an hour before they could get power to engines; we were dead in the water."

"The TAC display showed the Karl Marx for one moment then it's identifier was gone the next, and from the external cameras I watched as the Tempest was struck with pulse lasers and was shook off course by venting atmosphere from the hull breaches. Sensors soon showed every remaining UNSC vessel begin to jump out of the system. It was a costly battle, half of my squadron was destroyed and I have no idea how many from the admiral's force managed to escape."

"Three vessels the Mars, Excalibur, and carrier Euclid," Reece informed him. She'd found it from official UNSC records, classified one's of course, ONI section two ensured that information like that wasn't spread amongst the general public. "But how did the Confidence escape?"

"After it was clear that we'd lost the battle I ordered the entire ship to shut down, bringing power levels to almost zero. I'd hoped if we could stay off the enemy's radar they might pass us over. And they did, once the last of the fleet had fled they left the battle area and went right to Venator VIII. We watched as they glassed the planet from the poles to the equator, and after they were done they came back to finish the job. We didn't have sensors at the time, but we knew what was happening. The enemy scoured through the floating junkyard hunting for survivors, and one by one they found and destroyed our life pods. We couldn't do anything, and they just killed them all," the commodore was still shaken by the event the two captains could tell.

"Repairs were slow, especially on low power levels, and there were a few close calls as the enemy did a fly-by and scanned the debris, but eventually engines were operational again. The Cole Protocol still applying we made a blind jump out of the system, catching the Covenant off guard for a moment, and escaping. Operating at such power levels our maneuvering options were limited, and a full week into the slipspace trip we detected a malfunction in the NAV system caused by a power surge during the battle, we were traveling deeper in Covenant controlled space." Zedillo continued his story, telling of the half dozen skirmishes with enemy patrols and barely escaping death and then repairing the vessel just in time to face the enemy again. They'd had to salvage materials, equipment, and food from enemy vessels they destroyed in conflict, and on one occasion went to a nearby former human colony, the site of a battle five years earlier to scavenge the debris for a workable reactor component from a UNSC derelict. The commodore's initial description of the story was true, it was a long one, but he approached the end as he told of his arrival at Reach.

"We thought it was unusual when we got none of the usual security pings or checks. A malfunction or some kind of disturbance we believed, our communications systems were never one-hundred percent after that first battle. But as soon as we came out of slipspace we knew the worst had happened, everything was gone, I though Reach would stay out of harm's way for longer than it did. There wasn't much of anything left when we arrived, but we couldn't just leave considering there may have been something left. It really didn't amount to much of an operation, less than a day after we arrived in the system that cruiser arrived. We tried to evade its detection but it wasn't possible, we were already low on MAC ammunition, but engaged them nonetheless. For a moment it was tug o' war, we were able to evade their plasma torpedoes long enough to get off two heavy rounds, but couldn't crack their shields. We took a direct hit to one of our MACs, and that's when we had to make our escape."

"But how did you get here? Retreating from the enemy all vectors leading to human settlements are removed according to the Cole Protocol," Roland declared.

The commodore returned a hardened look, he'd violated the protocol, and everyone knew it. "I did what I felt was necessary to save my ship and crew. If it comes to it I'll defend my actions before a judiciary, because for over a year I was behind enemy lines scraping just to survive every day."

"I know sir," Roland said. "Right now it's best if we all look to handling our current predicament before we worry about another."

"I agree, so I think it's best if I return to my vessel," Zedillo said, and he rose from his chair, the two other officers rose in respect for their superior as he left.

"I'm sorry we have to miss our game," Roland said informally once the commodore was gone.

"No your not, you were worried that I would beat you again," Reece declared. "Besides there'll be time once we get back to Alpha Centuri, the Brock needs this break now more than the Muhammad."

"She's a tough ship. She'll hold together."

Just then the comm system came to life, and Apollo's voice echoed into the room. "Captain, three contacts on approach, designated UNSC Waterloo and Huron, escorting the Bastille. ETA Five minutes."

"Affirmative. Prepare all our systems for docking and coordination with the repair station." Then the comm deactivated.

Skirmish at Sirius Alpha Part 3
Date: 18 April 2006, 2:27 am

2350 Hours, November 2, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Destroyer Isaac Brock under repair in the Sirius Alpha System

The enormous repair and refit station overwhelmed the size of all five of the vessels in the system. Onboard its technicians both in and outside of it in atmospheric-pressurized suits facilitating repairs. Although the mobile station was no replacement for the dockyards in the Sol or Alpha Centuri systems it could accommodate all three vessels and would bring them back to operational capacity at least until full repairs could be made in port. The two vessels which had escorted it had taken up the patrol that the Muhammad and Isaac Brock were originally on, and there was still no contacts on long range sensors or detected by the nearby Geneva listening post. This news wasn't of much comfort to many on Sirius Alpha I who had already begun to evacuate the planet, but because of a limited number of vessels with a Shaw-Fujikawa drive the process was slow. Millions were still on the planet fearing for their lives, and the small garrison of UNSC marines was inconsequential in maintaining any semblance of order. The Covenant was within reach of the planet and they feared for their lives almost as much as the civilians did.

In space there was a little more control, the UNSC fleet, although it had taken a very rough beating was intact and had defeated the enemy. Ammunition was being replenished, and with every plate of Titanium-A armor welded to their superstructures the UNSC ships became more of a threat to any that would trespass that space. Roland's bridge had even regained its familiar atmosphere as the overhead lights, and the monitors were repaired. Apollo's pedestal which had suffered a projection error was back up and running normally, even Lieutenant Farrell's replacement had taken his station.

"Urgent message from the Huron, sir," the even younger Ensign Jordan said from communications. "Captain Trainor, reports enemy contact."

"Put him on," Roland ordered.

"Attention UNSC forces, enemy scout vessel located orbiting the star, deploying Longsword wing to engage and destroy," Trainor said methodically. For a moment the bridge remained silent as they waited in anticipation to hear more. "The enemy's detected our interceptors and is preparing to jump out of the system – tell our boys to launch missiles immediately. Don't let it get away." The captain said to his officers but still audibly heard over the comm system. There was indistinctive chatter for a few seconds before the captain got back on. "We lost him."

Roland didn't like the news, their fears about the Covenant coming were confirmed and now it was only a matter of time before they came in full force. It was a guessing game to be exact, when they would come, how many, would they engage right away or wait and formulate a strategy?

"How long until the Bastille can complete repairs and get us into the fight again?" Roland asked.

Apollo was the first one to rise to the occasion "Minimum ETA is four hours forty-three minutes, baring any unforeseen circumstances of course."

"Maintain our stance then, but take any measures you can see that'll speed up the repairs. I don't want to be a sitting duck for as little time as possible."

To say the Isaac Brock's main bay was crowded was understatement, dozens of crew members from all five vessels in the system as well as some of the repair crew from the Bastille worked within the large room. Every single Pelican was out of its magnetic storage racks on the bulkheads, and either hovered above the bay or was out in the black ferrying supplies already. In amongst all this fray Master Sergeant Fredrick Barrows and his squad of marines oversaw the operations. The sergeant was a veteran of a dozen military engagements with the Covenant alone, his most recent tour was fighting the enemy on Sigma Octanus, he was wounded twice in that operation and had to be evacuated during the initial landings. He was hardcore to the bone, and to his squad it was a wonder why he was not an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper. Most suspected he was even to extreme for their ranks. Barrows had a simple task for now, he just had to make sure that everything during their repairs went well, and where he could, help the process along. He was not a fan of space engagements, ship to ship of course; he never saw any action that way. Getting vaporized by a plasma torpedo was not a way to go for a marine, he'd rather be fighting the enemy face to face on board a vessel or if it couldn't be helped on the ground. He ascribed to the old logic, a marine was a ship's soldier, and unfortunately the Covenant didn't give them a chance to use that role.

"How many more of those containers are we expecting?" Barrows asked the engineering tech that was helping supervise one of the Pelicans which had arrived from the Waterloo.

"At least five more, most of them are filled with deck, armor, and wall plating for the ship," she replied. "The crews unloading Pelican Bravo-321 could use some help though bringing replacement small arms to the armory."

"Yes maam," Barrows replied, and then switched on his headset microphone. "All right ladies, five volunteers on the double, to Bravo-321, and get those weapons stowed and locked in the armory. Don't let me catch you sleeping!"

The sergeant grinned, he used to a private too, but he was just lucky and smart enough to survive until he was an NCO, and put the same fear of God into those grunts under his command. Barrows straightened his cap and took a walk around the bay. It was hot enough from all the bodies and the Pelican engines that it felt more like a plasma torpedo was about to impact. In reality the sergeant knew that he was only a tour away from either a training or a desk job, which would not be the end of the world but as it really did get closer to it as the Covenant got closer to Earth he felt all the more responsible to stay on board and fight the good fight. That would be months away in any event and for that reason he was going to put his attention on the present, there was a job to be done.

0500 Hours, October 3, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Destroyer Isaac Brock under repair in the Sirius Alpha System

He'd gotten only four hours of real rest that night; hardly enough to recover his body but nevertheless Captain Roland was back on the bridge. He had to be, Apollo's message was to distressing not to. The Covenant had arrived.

There was not a section on the vessel which was not rushing to accomplish a task, and abuzz with activity. All three vessels were in the process of decoupling from the Bastille, the Prophet Muhammad was almost as good as new but the Confidence and Isaac Brock were another story. The cruiser's external damage had been patched but there had been no time to reinforce it, compared to the nearly three meters of solid Titanium-A armor which guarded the majority of the hull the repairs put in place only twenty centimeters worth. The reactor was operating only at eighty percent, and one of the MAC guns was still inoperative. The Isaac Brock's main engines were still down, and its best speed was more like a crawl. The only saving grace was that all the weapons systems were armed and fully operational. The two frigates were in the meantime moving to rendezvous with the rest of the fleet giving the UNSC strength at total of five vessels. Unfortunately sensors showed and enemy force of equal size: one carrier, two cruisers, and two frigates. Against the wounded force of humans they appeared to possess every advantage. For the moment though tactical and strategic command still rested in Roland's hands, and he needed to make a decision quickly. The enemy was stationary for the moment, at the edge of the system just as they had done before, but they would not remain that way for long. There was a combined payload of about ten plasma torpedoes against them in a single volley, two for each vessel which was more than enough to take them all out.

"Move us into orbit around Sirius Alpha, and order the rest of the fleet to do the same," Roland ordered. Then he stepped over to a console and typed in a set of coordinates nearby the star. "Put us right at these coordinates Ensign Seville."

"Captain," Apollo began. "I don't need to remind you by positioning the fleet within the gravitational influence of a star is a grave tactical error. If you intend to use the magnetic influence to deflect the enemy plasma there is insufficient field density at a safe enough range to affect the torpedoes at all."

"Apollo, for the moment, just trust me," he told the AI, and immediately the order was followed without any objection. The captain planned a risky maneuver that was based on a few random observations and a lot of assumptions. If he could make it work though he might still be able to save his small beleaguered fleet from destruction. The Huron turned around and headed back the way it came meanwhile the other four vessels headed to the star as well. "Initiate the Cole Protocol right now, and order all vessels to launch every available Longsword interceptor they have."

"Yakasora charge the MACs, and arm every missile pod we've got. Put one of our Shiva's in as well, I want to give these guys a warm welcome, get every vessel to do the same." The Isaac Brock was in the rear of the movement, there wasn't enough power to push the vessel much faster.

This time the Covenant were much more aggressive, they advanced in system as soon as they saw the UNSC movement. They didn't do a pinpoint jump however, instead relying on their normal propulsion. The carrier however remained at the system edge, appearing content to watch the battle from a distance. It made little difference however; the two cruisers and frigates were the brawn of the force in any event.

"MACs charging at three percent per second, and all vessels report Longswords launched, a total of twelve birds are flying guard sir," the commander declared.

"Order all vessels to form up tight once we reached the coordinates, there can't be more than fifty meters separating each one of the ships," Roland said.

"Captain, that could be tricky considering our maneuvering thrusters are operating below normal levels," Seville warned.

"Do your best ensign; just make sure we're facing the enemy, that's the important thing."

The enemy in the meantime was gaining on the UNSC fleet, and points of red light were already beginning to grow on the sides of the vessels. They were intent on destroying their fleet, and weren't even waiting to turn before charging the torpedoes. The destruction of the first cruiser the day before must have enraged them, Roland thought.

"Huron and Waterloo report they are in position, and the Bastille has successfully jumped from the system sir," Ensign Jordan declared.

Roland watched the viewscreen intently, it was focused on the Covenant vessels which were growing larger as they got closer to them, and the charging torpedo's light grew more intense. He could only hope that his gamble would hold true, else the fleet would be nothing more than molten slag in less than ten minutes. Slowly but surely the remaining three vessels took up a box formation along the vertical plane with the Confidence in the center and the frigates and destroyers in the corners. The Covenant meanwhile were positioning themselves in a line with the cruisers in the center and frigates at either end. They on the other hand put a great deal more distance between each ship.

"Captain!" Yakasora urgently exclaimed. "The MACs are draining sir, there's some kind of interference that's destabilizing the fields. We're losing charge at one percent per second."

The captain smiled at the news, however. "Apollo see what you can do to compensate for the meantime, and inform the fleet to do the same we only need to buy time."

The Covenant, with fully charged torpedoes, seeing stationary and weakened targets could see victory in sight. Eight torpedoes launched and their shimmering red glow dotted the blackness of space.

"Torpedoes launched, sir," Seville announced. "Impact in twenty five seconds."

"Get our Longswords out of the way and launch those Shiva missiles, and every heavy round we've got. Target the cruisers!" Roland ordered. Within three seconds all five vessels were shook by the recoil of the MAC rounds rocketing from within their hulls. The rocket plumes moved in suit, as the projectiles from opposing vessels intercepted each other less than half the distance to the UNSC fleet. Neither force moved from their positions, the Covenant's was based on blind courage, the UNSC's on one man's prayer.

"Sir, the MAC cannons aren't recharging sir! I can't form a stable field!" Yakasora exclaimed.

"Captain shall I make evasive maneuvers?" Seville asked in expectation.

"No, hold steady, prepare to activate engines full forward and recharge the MACs on my mark," Roland replied. The torpedoes just grew closer in the meantime.

"Impact in five, sir," Seville said shakily. "Four, three, two-" Then just as the torpedoes were about to engulf the fleet, the balls of superheated gas suddenly dissipated. The solar activity that they'd been detecting had been just powerful enough to counteract the magnetic force that stabilized the Covenant torpedoes.

"Go! Get us out of the sun's orbit!" Roland declared. All the ship's engines suddenly came to life and jolted the ships forward. In the distance the UNSC weapons went forward undaunted, two heavy rounds missed their targets, but the other six made the mark. Four were perfect marks for the first cruiser and broke through the ship's shields and had enough momentum still to inflict minor damage. The other two hit the starboard cruiser flaring it's shields however they soon lost their energy and were diverted away harmlessly. The missiles quickly caught up with the MAC rounds and the enemy pulse lasers attempted to fend off the swarm. Then four separate momentary suns billowed from where the Covenant fleet was. A nuclear fire consumed the area, no glare from the enemy shields could be seen from within the eruption. The viewscreen on the Isaac Brock's bridge flared white and didn't return for a second. When it did the first cruiser simply wasn't there while the second was in shambles and atmosphere vented from dozens of spots along its side. The two frigates however had suffered no structural damage at all and were preparing another volley of torpedoes and beginning evasive maneuvers.

"MAC status?" Roland demanded as he watched the two remaining targets preparing to reengage.

"Twenty-six percent and climbing, two percent per second," Yakasora replied.

Too slow, the captain thought. Each of their five vessels were in such different conditions to coordinate another volley was impractical. "Ensign Jordan order all vessels to fire at will and engage in ship to ship combat!"
"Aye, Aye, sir."

The two UNSC frigates responded immediately and darted forward only led by the faster Longsword interceptors which were preparing to deliver strafing fire to the enemy. The Huron launched a heavy MAC round against the nearest enemy vessel but it missed the mark and the UNSC vessel was soon bombarded by a blaze of pulse laser fire.

"This is Bravo-three-eight, unloading ordinance," the interceptor squadron leader declared. "Missiles are away, yeehaw!"

The twelve interceptors launched a full load of heavy missiles at the same frigate as the Huron was engaging and then quickly put their ships into a tight bank and fell back out of the enemy's effective range. The rockets meanwhile impacted against the shield and lit it up from the series of impacts.

The Confidence and Prophet Muhammad came up on the same target each firing a compliment of Archer missiles against the frigate. The enemy having a fully charged torpedo ready suddenly stopped its maneuvering and came to a complete halt. Every missile launched could not help but hit the target, but really the damage was superficial and only weakened the shields. The Covenant frigate meanwhile launched its torpedo, a danger that none of the UNSC ships could ignore. It streaked through space illuminating the blackness, the Confidence and Muhammad were quick to respond firing four heavy MAC rounds straight towards the enemy frigate. The torpedo wasn't as fast as the slug but it had the advantage of being fired first. The Huron engaged its emergency thrusters desperately trying to evade the plasma, but it continued to track them. The MAC rounds impacted on the enemy shield first but their combined force broke through the screen in a second. The four rounds made perfect marks through the enemy tearing through the entire side of the vessel. Atmosphere ejected from all the wounds and the frigate began to spin erratically. Its torpedo continued undaunted, however, towards the Huron.

"To all UNSC vessels, we're abandoning ship, repeat we are abandoning the Huron," Captain Trainor's voice declared in desperation. The torpedo closed the distance between itself and the ship, the Huron was a Renaissance-class frigate, which had the fastest sub light speeds of all the UNSC warships, but still it was no match for the plasma.

Roland observed the chase on the TAC display, "Trainor, pull your vessel out of the system; make a jump, save the Huron." The task force commander ordered.

"Negative Isaac Brock," Trainor disobeyed. "The moment we make the jump they'll redirect it to another ship, and two vessels are out of the fight. I'm going to try and make it into the sun's magnetic influence like beforehand."

"Confirmed," Roland acknowledged. "Good luck captain." The captain could see on the display the Huron didn't have a chance, she just wasn't fast enough. Bumblebee life pods jettisoned from the frigate with quick flashes along the side of its hull. As the plasma grew closer the risk grew greater as one pod failed to get enough velocity and was consumed by the fire before it could get clear. Sensors began picking up a number of friendly tags appearing, half a dozen life pods and a pair of Pelicans. The Huron was a hundred kilometers from safety when it was struck by the torpedo. It was immediately knocked off course and secondary explosions ruptured throughout the rear of the vessel as the atmosphere within the ship ignited. The torpedo gouged over fifty meters squared of armor from the frigate. But from its original velocity and the gravitational influence of the Sirius Alpha star it was dragged in.

"Trainor! Get your people off of the Huron now!" Roland commanded.

There was silence for a second as the frigate drifted closer towards the star's corona. "Engines are down, all weapons systems offline, internals are at twelve percent trying to stabilize her," the frigate's captain could be heard saying over the static and explosions. Two more life pods left the Huron but that was all, the frigate soon disappeared from sensors consumed by the heat and gravity of the star. The Covenant frigate which fired the torpedo in the meantime was still not out of action. The Prophet Muhammad fired another volley of heavy MAC rounds and scored another two hits but again failed to hit the frigate in a vital section.

The second Covenant frigate was meanwhile engaged in a desperate battle with the Waterloo as both were apparently equal strength as the enemy had taken more damage from the Shiva missiles then at first glance it appeared. The Isaac Brock in the meantime moved up to the support the lone frigate but was hindered by the slow operation of its main engine. Pulse laser fire and Archer missiles were exchanged between the two engaged frigates but both wiped aside the damage and went on.

"Get a firing solution on that vessel's forward side; gut them from stem to stern!" Roland barked. The Isaac Brock was then shook by the recoil as its two heavy rounds launched, the enemy moved with so much speed that only one made contact and it wasn't where it was aiming for. The Covenant realizing the new threat slowed down to take aim at the oncoming destroyer giving the Waterloo its chance to strike. Still speeding full ahead her MAC round brought down the shield and dug thirty meters into the hull. The UNSC craft followed up with a compliment of Archer missiles and explosions peppered the exterior of the enemy ship. But as both vessels readied for the enemy to return fire it simply slowed stayed its course and its weapons silent.

"Apollo what's it doing?" Roland was quick to ask.

"Its power readings are low sir, by my estimation it seems that we've struck a critical section, it appears to be disabled," the AI replied.

"Well let's not give it a chance to recover," the captain announced. "Yakasora prepare another two heavy rounds; put them out of their misery."

"Sir, new enemy contact! The carrier had jumped into the system and is powering up weapons systems," Seville informed him.

More good news, Roland thought. The Prophet Muhammad had just suffered a blow to its primary weapons array and was almost toothless, meanwhile the Confidence still had its hands full with dispatching of the feisty Covenant frigate. "Tell Bravo three-eight to move to engage enemy Seraph fighters while the Waterloo and Brock take up fire support," Roland told the young communications officer.

The enemy carrier was quick to respond and immediately opened up with its forward pulse laser array striking the two approaching UNSC vessels. The armor took a beating but did not breach, between the three warships the single ship fighters began to engage one another, it was over thirty Covenant fighter-bombers against the dozen Longswords, the UNSC had no hope of winning alone. Covenant plasma destroyed two interceptors before they could even get a missile lock on the enemy. One Longsword managed to take down a pair of Seraphs before it was reduced to molten slag, and others in the squadron suffered the same fate until only four remained.

"This is Bravo three-eight we're bugging out," the static filled channel declared. "There's too many of them, requesting capital ship support." Then an explosion resounded through the communications as their number was reduced to three. The Longswords retreated back behind the cover of the Waterloo and Isaac Brock but the Seraphs did not pursue. Instead they held position keeping a barrier in front of the carrier keeping the two warships out of effective range while they prepared a plasma torpedo.

The two vessels approached the fighters undaunted, but a torpedo was launched aimed straight at the Waterloo. Rocket plumes, pulse lasers, and plasma bolts darted through the void. Explosions marked successful hits as craft simply disappeared off the UNSC TAC displays. Still the onslaught continued and plasma scorched through the Titanium-A armor that protected the human vessels.

"Forward armor at twelve percent! We can't take much more of this abuse sir," the commander declared from the weapons console. The vessel shook with each and every impact.

"Apollo get me a firing solution on that carrier and once we have a full MAC charge give them hell!" Roland ordered as he wiped the sweat from his brow. The plasma torpedo growing ever closer, but both vessels charged ahead. A Seraph was consumed by his own side's weapon but still the moving eruption of flame did not cease.

"Hull breach on B deck, sealing blast doors," Crewman Petrov declared from his station behind the captain's chair. The situation was desperate and the enemy torpedo only got closer.

"Apollo what is going on with those MAC guns?" Roland boomed.

"Ninety-six percent, ninety-eight. MAC coils fully charged on both the Waterloo and Isaac Brock" Apollo declared calmly.

"Fire the damn things!"

And like that three bolts of lightning emerged from the hulls of the two vessels and streaked towards the stationary carrier. It was already too late though the plasma was only a second's distance away from the UNSC vessels when it passed the MAC rounds. The Waterloo made a bold move holding a steady course until at the last moment engaging its emergency thrusters, but the torpedo turned and caught the middle of the ship and gouged a line through the port armor all the way to the engines. Five decks were entirely exposed and the torpedo itself dug over thirty meters into the hull. The effect was devastating, explosive decompressions and fires killed a quarter of the crew instantly and if were not for the quick action of those of the bridge and engineering who sealed the areas off the entire crew could have perished. The blow however knocked the vessel off course and with the momentum from its attempted evasive maneuver was directed on a collision with the Isaac Brock none of the bridge crew had time to recognize the danger and do anything fast enough, even Apollo only managed to fire the Brock's own thrusters at the last instant. The frigate collided amid ship with the destroyer its momentum crumpled both vessels armor plating and the Isaac Brock soon found itself coupled to the Waterloo and unable to detach. The captain ordered all stop before the hull stress from the main engines tore an even bigger hole. The frigate had severed three decks and entered a full two sections into the other vessel.

"What's our status?" Was really all Roland could hope to ask for at that time.

"Casualties reported throughout the ship, life support is gone on two decks the crew has been put on respirators for the moment. Engineering reports heavy structural damage and recommends we disengage immediately," the AI announced. "Sir I believe the only appropriate measure at this time is to abandon ship."

"No, we've had to almost do that once and I'm not giving this ship up while she's still got fight left in her!" the captain barked at the always dispassionate artificial intelligence. "Load up the last of our Archer missiles and another Shiva, we're going to finish these guys off whether they like it or not."

"Captain I can't stabilize the ship, thruster control is non-functional," Seville turned and said, blood running down her cheek from a fresh cut.

"It doesn't matter so long as we can get a clean lock with the missiles," Roland declared on a one-minded mission. On the TAC display in the distance the Covenant frigate which had been preoccupying the Prophet Muhammad and Confidence disappeared in a flash. That left only one enemy still with some fight left but the UNSC fleet had very little left in them as well. The Covenant carrier in the meantime was almost finished charging another torpedo. Suddenly an idea struck the Captain as he watched the red light grow larger on the enemy vessel.

"Yakasora re-task our missiles, aim all of them at that turret proximity detonation five meters," Roland ordered.

"Five meters sir?"

"Just do it commander!" the vessel's commanding officer snapped. "Apollo can you determine the time when the energy levels of those torpedoes reach critical?"

"Based upon prior records and data I could hypothesize when the enemy will launch the torpedo if that is what you require."

"Good, send those missiles you're the proper sequence and get them to detonate precisely when they expel that torpedo."

"Captain, I must remind you that the accuracy of the missiles as well as the small size of the target make a precise hit almost impossible."

"It doesn't have to be precise; I want you to blanket that entire area with every explosive we've got flying out there."

As the red energy built up the missiles continued on course, and the enemy fired pulse lasers in kind to intercept the missiles. Just as the ball of plasma had achieved critical energy the missiles under Apollo's timing struck. The first was too early and the shield around the area was still up but the rest followed in quick order. In rapid succession almost a dozen Archer missiles hit an area no larger than five meters across. The explosive force actually cascaded the plasma inwards before the magnetic field could be directed away from the vessel. Plasma and explosives vaporized twenty meters of the carrier before the magnetic generator controlling the torpedo was shut down. The turret in the meantime was completely destroyed.

The carrier having suffered a good deal of damage and already lost the rest of it squadron was compelled to flee, yet it did not. Instead it powered its engines and moved closer to get within effective range of its pulse lasers and launched another wing of Seraphs. Dealing with this carrier was becoming problematic, it seemed more than willing to throw itself away for the chance to destroy anymore humans, but the UNSC couldn't afford to lose much more.

"Captain I detect boarding craft on approach towards us sir," Ensign Seville announced disheartened.

All their missiles were gone and movement of any kind wasn't an option, they were sitting ducks, fish in a barrel, and now apparently the enemy wanted to get the taste of hand to hand combat. A battle in space wasn't enough.

"Order all marines to take posts on possible external entry points, fire teams to take up positions at all critical sections, and areas. Whatever happens try and battle them back to their ships."

Skirmish at Sirius Alpha Part 4
Date: 8 May 2006, 2:33 pm

      Klaxons of a different nature sounded throughout the ship and Apollo's voice called through the decks. Boarders were imminent and everyone was to get to where they were supposed to be on the double. Sergeant Barrows tightened his boots for one last time and grabbed a battle rifle from the locker, he was about ready for a fight, and for once the Covenant were going to try to bring it on his terms. His ten man squad was assembled within the ship's loading bay still, but they were anxious even excited about getting into the fight.
      "You heard the boss those alien sons of bitches are coming here and they want a piece of us, but I'll tell you what were going to give them, a one way ticket to hell! Am I right marines?"
      "Sir yes sir!" His marines yelled in response.
      "All right then move like you've got a purpose! Go! Go! Go!" And like that the eleven marines charged into the hallway and towards E deck in the outer sections of the ship where they been assigned. The bang of each heavy step echoed through the hallways as the marines in full ballistic armor ran. The NCO could feel the nerves of each and every one of his marines, they knew that the Isaac Brock was in trouble there was no sound from the main engines and the impact of the collision couldn't be ignored. They were on their last leg, and could only hope it held on long enough. They passed Navy Corpsmen busy aiding the wounded from the impacts and explosions, Barrows couldn't help but realize that in a matter of minutes there were going to be a lot more people to look after.

      "What's the status of our marines?" Captain Roland questioned.
      "All fire teams report at locations and prepared to repel boarders, blast doors sealed at critical junctions and non-combatants have retreated to secure areas sir," Jordan replied.
      "And what about our guests?"
      "They're being escorted by a wing of Seraphs sir, distance two thousand kilometers and closing fast," Seville answered.
      Without point defenses they were helpless to intercept the enemy by themselves, especially having used every last missile they had. But there had to be another option then just waiting to be boarded. The TAC display showed both the Confidence and Prophet Muhammad inbound but still out of range and they targeted the carrier as the primary threat. "Ensign Jordan can you get through to the Waterloo?"
      "I can try, sir," the young officer declared. A moment passed as he fumbled with the damaged communications array. "I've got them sir, a very weak signal, but it's the best we can manage."
      "This is Captain Roland is anyone there able to respond? Waterloo please respond," the officer said over the channel.
      "The captain is unconscious sir," a young voice declared through the other end. "This is Lieutenant Rodriguez, operations officer. We've sustained critical damage, operational capability is at twenty percent and that's a generous estimate. Our sensors are down and engines don't respond."
      "Hold tight lieutenant, we'll send men to assist, but the enemy is sending boarding craft, their going to try and destroy us from the inside out. Do you have any remaining missiles and active pods?"
      "All of our forward pods are lodged within your hull, but we do have a pair at the rear which are still useable," the beleaguered officer declared.
      "All right launch everything you've got left, and transfer targeting control to automatic so we can take over once they've left the pods," Roland ordered. "Now get every marine you have available to defensive positions."
      "Aye, aye sir."
      A total of forty rockets launched from the pods of the Waterloo and raced towards the oncoming single craft. The Seraphs were agile and fast unlike the boarding craft which were far more vulnerable to the missiles. The fighters immediately fired plasma at the rockets attempting to intercept them, but the more accurate pulse lasers on board capitol ships didn't have the difficulty that the Seraphs hitting the fast moving objects. Two Archer missiles were destroyed before they entered the fray but the rest made it through the plasma, nevertheless the Seraphs refused to yield and many ran into the oncoming missiles to prevent them from reaching the boarding craft. The fighter wing was decimated in its number but in all only a single Archer missile made it through to destroy a boarding ship. The two attached vessels quickly came under fire as the remaining Seraphs directed their fire to the destroyer and frigate's armor. Both ships felt a constant rumbling from unceasing plasma bolt fire.
      "Captain," Apollo alerted. "I've detected a particular pattern in the Covenant attack patterns. They appear to be targeting specific sections of the armor attempting to weaken them, and I believe use them as entry points for their boarders." The AI highlighted the points on a schematic of the destroyer on a nearby console.
      "Clever little bastards," Roland whispered. One of the targets was only a single section away from the bridge on the hull. "Reassign all marine fire teams to take positions in the adjacent corridors and prepare to evacuate the air from those areas once the enemy is onboard." With any luck that would eliminate the majority of enemy so that the marines could mop up the stragglers that had their own atmosphere. "And post extra guards on the bridge section don't let them get in here."
      Roland looked around to the less than a dozen officers and crew which made up his bridge, how many would make it out of this alive, would any of them? He erased the thought from his mind, instead he reached below the nearby console and pulled out the standard Navy-issue M6D pistol that was holstered there. He removed the magazine and double-checked, it was full, and that was a relief. The captain pulled back on the action pulling a round into the chamber. "Everyone arm yourselves and prepare to engage in combat!"

      Barrows was among one of the squad leaders to get the orders to change position, he now found himself tucked behind a firing obstacle a few feet from the descended blast door. Private McLaughlin was beside him behind the same obstacle, while the rest of the squad was in position behind other objects placed as barriers in the corridor. "Fire team Knife to Ranger, come in Ranger," the sergeant said over the comm system.
      "Roger, Knife, I read you," the fire team positioned on the opposite side of the cornered off area replied.
      "We are in position and ready to engage."
      "Confirmed, we've had no contact with the enemy yet, will update when we do, Ranger out."
      The marines were antsy, on the eve of battle and with the enemy on the approach tensions were mounting and each handled it in their own way. PFC Wayne was the most agitated though, his hand barely gripped the M90 shotgun he held and he was constantly wiping the sweat off. This was his first combat experience against Covenant ground forces, he'd trained and learned about their strengths and weaknesses but now it was time to put that to the test.
      Barrows knew he had a few kids within his ranks, he had to make sure when the time came that they were assets to the fight, not a hindrance. "Listen up boys and girls, stay frosty keep you lines of fire open and blanket their advances with sweeping arcs. Don't let those Elites get in tight!"
      McLaughlin nodded his head, and checked his helmet's eye-display for any new broadcasts across the shipboard channel. Suddenly a new message flashed: COVENANT BOARDERS J-DECK, REINFORCEMENTS NEEDED. But it wasn't a moment later that an explosion rocked the nearby sections and could be heard even through the heavy blast doors.
      "Lock and load marines!" Barrows declared and the actions of eleven assault weapons almost simultaneously clicked. The sergeant trained his weapon ahead using the small port in the barricade to slide the muzzle of his battle rifle through. Quick bursts and steady aim were necessary he knew, Covenant Elites could take a lot of abuse and keep going but enough slugs and even they would go down.
      The sound of an enormous pressure release pushed against the blast doors, the atmosphere was being vented. The boarders quickly recognized the threat and fired their weapons at both blast doors to get out before there was nothing but vacuum. Barrows watched as the center of the door began to change colour from its usual dark grey to red then orange, and heated up all the more. The Covenant that were in there didn't take to kindly to being caged. Barrows tightened his grip, and clinched his teeth.
      The metal white hot then exploded out removing a meter squared area from the door, plasma scorched through the hole meanwhile atmosphere from the non-isolated section rushed in to fill the empty space. The explosion shook the marine fire team causing them to look away for a moment from the blazing light, but as soon as they looked back a red armored grunt was trying to climb through the hole. It was met by a hail of mixed gunfire from eleven different weapons and quickly torn to pieces. Another grunt quickly replaced him but was dispatched just as quickly. Corporal Cuthbert pulled the pin on a frag grenade and tossed it through the hole as well, there was the growl of a startled elite before the explosion filled the air. Then silence, Barrows took a moment to assess the situation, and then decided on the best course of action. He activated his communications to the bridge, "Apollo open up blast door E-20." The distant AI quickly acknowledged and the heavy door began to rise up, all the marines kept their sights trained as it lifted. Still only the mechanical noise of the door was prominent, it was almost fully up when Private Stewart declared confidently, "I think we got them all."
      But a flash of plasma emerged from the closed off section, and soon what appeared like dozens of figures emerged from cover. Grunts and jackals wielding plasma pistols and shields with elites in the rear all opened fire. The small fire team ducked behind cover.
      "You had to open your damn mouth!" Private Ramirez berated Stewart.
      "Watch the chatter and keep an eye on the enemy, target the elites first then we'll deal with the smaller ones," Barrows exclaimed. He then came up from behind the barricade to fire off a quick burst; he hit a blue armored elite in the rear, exciting its energy shield but nothing substantial.
      The fight heated up as both sides exchanged fire but still no one charged out from behind the barricades instead they held positions. Private Hudson fired two quick bursts killing a pair of overconfident grunts and then stood up and threw a grenade into the fray. That gave the Covenant a good target, an elite with a needler opened fire.
      Corporal Annatto spotted the attack first. "Needles incoming!" Hudson quickly turned to see the threat approaching and ducked down. The majority of them impacted harmlessly against the barricade but one of the purple glass shards was guided through and tracked his movement. It hit him right in his chest burying itself into the ballistic armor. Hudson screamed, he was in no pain yet but was veteran enough to know what the needles did. A split second later his armor exploded on his chest sent small fragments in all directions.
      "Hudson report!" Barrows yelled without the use of his radio. A weak moan was all that came through. "Porter, get over to Hudson right now!"
      "Yes sir" the medic responded before he ran over to the other side of their defensive position in a crouch to aid the wounded marine.
      Barrows put his rage to good use; taking aim at the enemy firing a burst at the tiny opening in a jackal's shield knocking the birdlike creature off balance then scoring a kill shot with the next burst.

      At the bridge the enemy had tried only minutes before to make a full frontal assault, but were beaten back straight into the same boarding craft they had taken to get on the Isaac Brock. The attempt cost them thirty soldiers, include five elites, but the UNSC marines still lost eight dead and three wounded. It would not be the last time that the Covenant would try and capture the bridge they knew that. Captain Roland reloaded in a fresh magazine to his pistol, and checked the rest of his bridge crew, they were a little shaken. Most in the Navy were a little to comfortable with the distant ship to ship combat to deal with close quarters fighting he knew. At that point though it was life or death, and any one that could hold a weapon needed to grab one. It was a heavy price to pay but the consequence was extinction of the entire human race if they did not.
      "Apollo how are the rest of our forces doing?" the captain inquired in the recess of combat.
      "One blockade was forced to retreat to an adjacent section, and another fire team was eliminated by a squad of camouflaged elites however reinforcements have eliminated the enemy and taken up the same position. All other stations report holding their ground," the next wave of enemy boarders is in bound currently."
      "And the status of the Confidence and Prophet Muhammad?"
      "Engaging the enemy carrier," the AI announced. "Unfortunately both vessels have suffered a great deal more damage then the enemy has and lack proportional fighter support."
      "What are you saying?"
      "I believe the chances of a successful operation at this point are highly unlikely, more accurately five percent chance of destroying the remaining enemy vessel without suffering total fleet casualties."
      Roland exhaled gravely. He knew what the AI was implying, order all hands to abandon ship, evacuate as many from the Waterloo and Isaac Brock to the two remaining UNSC vessels as possible and then pick up anyone left from the destroyed Huron before jumping out of the system. It was a logical solution, and could save their lives, but what else did it mean? Another world, another system lost to the Covenant. Three more vessels remaining as nothing more than wrecks, a dismal retreat from battle. Was victory at the cost of everything worthwhile, when they could live to fight another day?
      No. Humanity was running out of time, there were only so many worlds to defend, only so many battles to be fought, and finally when it came down to the end there was no retreat. Roland had to fight every fight as if were the last, as if Earth were right behind him, and three decades of war had finally reached its climax.
      "Ensign Jordan inform Captain Reece and Commodore Zedillo of our status and then get back to your post. We're staying here and seeing this fight to the end."

      On the lower decks for every Covenant soldier the marines gunned down two more seemed to take their place. Barrows and his squad had lost three killed and two wounded, but reinforcements from another squad had arrived to back them up. The sergeant came up from cover to fire a pair of bursts knocking down a careless jackal that had lowered its shield. Plasma scorched by his head just as he ducked back down, there was no way to keep the enemy contained, and he simply didn't have enough men. He turned to McLaughlin beside him who despite the plasma burn to his left shoulder was still firing. A scream echoed through the corridor as another of his marines fell.
      "Report!" the sergeant yelled.
      "Stewart's down, sir," a voice announced through the comm system. "They're all over us; we can't take much more of this!"
      "Damn it," Barrows exhaled. He needed to relocate and quickly otherwise they'd be overrun. A plasma grenade exploded in a brilliant blue flash illuminating the entire area but luckily detonating far enough away that no one was harmed. The sergeant didn't bother with the radio this time. "Marines lets move it out! Annatto cover over retreat!"
      And like that the marines emerged from behind the barricades and sprayed the area with a hail of gunfire catching the Covenant off guard while they backpedaled. Barrows saw an elite charge forward, he fired his battle rifle but the enemy refused to halt. The PFC from the other squad saw the elite but too late, he turned the battle rifle to face the elite and let loose a single three round burst but was torn in half by the elite's powerful plasma sword.
      "Move it!" Barrows screamed, as he fired the last of his clip at the same elite. The Marine fire team backed up quickly but the closest corner was fifty feet behind their initial positions. The enemy meanwhile had opened up a hailstorm of plasma on the retreating humans. Corporal Cuthbert stopped only for a moment to try and lay down some cover fire with his BR-55 but was quickly struck by a series of plasma bolts which tore through his ballistics armor on both sides burning away his insides. The sergeant had no sooner watched his man fall then a jackal made a dash at him. It came out from behind cover and charged at him with no regard to its safety whatsoever. Barrows however could do little as the bird-like being ran towards him charging its plasma pistol.
      He couldn't reload his rifle fast enough and take aim before the enemy fired so without losing a backwards stride he threw aside his weapon and reached down to grab a pair of magnum pistols from their holsters. The jackal continued undisturbed until Barrows brought the two pistols to level and pumped his attacker full of four heavy rounds. It released a terrifying squeal before it fell to the ground in a pool of its own blood.
      "Sarge! We gotta get out of here!" One of his men screamed from behind him. He was barely audible over the exchanging gunfire. Finally though they made it around the corridor and while PFC Ramirez and Corporal Annatto delayed the enemy's advance by keeping a field of fire along the corridor they had just retreated from.
      Barrows looked around at the group of troops that were assembled around him, there were only five of them. Hudson, Wayne, McLaughlin, Porter, and Kline were all that was left. They were shaken and most were wounded in one fashion or another. The engagement had cost the squads just under a dozen men and it wasn't over yet. The sergeant knew what he had to do, without fire team Ranger, all of whom had been killed less than five minutes earlier, they needed to contain the enemy to that section.
      "All right ladies, we've still got a job to do. So hand over every smoke grenade you've got and put a fresh one in those weapons. We're going to move back to the access stairway and hold them off there." Barrows declared. "Annatto! Get ready to move."
      "Roger that sarge."
      Once he had all of the squad's remaining smoke grenades he threw a pair of them around the corner to hopefully buy them a bit more time. The other seven marines then started moving away from their position to get to the stairway that led to all other decks. It was only unsecured way for the Covenant to move about the ship, and if they got a holds of it there would be no way to contain them.
      The battle klaxons still sounded throughout the corridors but it was nothing more than ambient noise now. The squad had to move with enough speed to keep ahead of the enemy behind them but carefully so that they didn't run into a Covenant group that was moving through the ship. The NCO was careful to watch the rear of the group, the enemy wouldn't be deterred long by the artificial fog he put up and they tended to have less concern about running around a corner into the enemy.
      "Keep a tight formation and don't slow down," Barrows ordered but just then there was a quiet hiss from behind him and then only half a second later gunfire and screaming.
      A camouflaged elite de-cloaked only a foot away from Private McLaughlin who was leading the squad in front. It raised a plasma sword above its head and brought it down. The marine instinctively raised his rifle up as if to block the attack if it were a conventional blunt weapon but the plasma burned through his gun like a torch and then split him in half cutting through his ballistic armor as if it didn't even exist. PFCs Wayne and Kline jumped back at the sight, but didn't fire, for the moment they were to scared by the sight of the man being ripped apart. The elite however did not pause before it even lifted the sword back up to make another attack it reached out and stuck Kline against the bulkhead with its full force. Wayne was knocked out of his shock by the approaching threat, he raised his shotgun and fired. It struck the elite it the arm and because of the close proximity it tore the entire limb to shreds. The plasma sword was thrown away harmlessly away but the elite pressed on. The young marine tried to aim again but the weapon was grabbed and forced downward; Wayne pulled the trigger and the pellets struck the elite in its foot but that only served to anger it more. It pulled the shotgun from his arms nearly taking them with it and then with its only remaining arm grabbed his throat and lifted him until the 5'10 marine was face to face with the giant creature. Wayne struggled desperately trying to kick or punch away but even with a missing limb the elite was still too powerful.
      Barrows, Ramirez, Porter, Annatto and Hudson were helpless in the rear; the elite protected itself by holding the suffocating private in front of itself blocking any kill shot. The NCO knew in a battle of strength they could not win, and with his man in the way there was no way to eliminate the target. Just as Wayne felt his strength leaving him he summoned whatever he could and struck the elite in its elbow just enough for him to loosen its grip enough. The private with enough energy from temporarily escaping strangulation reached to his side and un-holstered his pistol. He fired six successive rounds until the elite's grip on him dropped to none completely. Both the elite and Wayne fell to the ground.
      The other five marines ran over, both Kline and Wayne were still breathing, but were out cold. Barrows hoisted Wayne over his shoulder and told Porter to carry Kline. The others salvaged for McLaughlin's weapons in the meantime, but just as a moment of calm had struck the squad a plasma bolt screeched overhead. Barrows turned to see a grunt and jackal at the end of the corridor from where they came. The NCO fired both his weapons but with a man on his shoulder it was twice as difficult. Thankfully the three men that carried no one were able to take the two attackers out before any one was hit. That was only the beginning however, Barrows knew.
      "Move out Marines!"

      "Get back Franklin!" The female NCO yelled, but it was too late. The marine was struck by a ceaseless barrage of plasma bolts and his entire body was literally torn apart. The battle for the bridge was not going well. Captain Roland unloaded the rest of his magazine down the left hand corridor but was uncertain if he'd hit anything. Five enemy boarding craft had made it through and latched onto the Isaac Brock only a few minutes earlier. Almost all of them directed their attack at the bridge, and now the command crew and the six remaining marines were cut off from the rest of the ship.
      Roland paced back into the centre of the bridge and called upon Apollo. "What's the fleet status?" he questioned the AI.
      "Both vessels engaging the enemy carrier, the Prophet Muhammad has taken a critical hit to her starboard side however is continuing to engage. The Covenant vessel on the other hand has suffered irreparable damage and no longer possesses a functional slipspace drive. Unfortunately both of our vessels lack heavy firepower to destroy or disable the enemy."
      "Damn it." Roland uttered. As long as that carrier was intact it would continue to send boarders and neither the Brock nor Waterloo could fend them off for much longer. Just as that thought crossed his mind a plasma grenade detonated in the background. It was closer then he expected, and Roland knew right then that the bridge would fall well before any other part of the ship would. "Apollo, send word to anyone on board, if they can make it to the bridge in one piece, do it. We'll need all the help we can get."
      "Affirmative Captain."

Skirmish at Sirius Alpha Part 5
Date: 8 May 2006, 3:27 pm

      Barrows had settled back down into a defensive position, he only had five men with him but it was the best he could hope for under the circumstances. Private Wayne had recovered and was manning his post but Kline had taken a bad hit to the head and was still out. Porter couldn't even give him an idea when he'd be back. That meant three men guarding the access doors and Barrows with one other covering the rear in case they had to fall back and provide cover fire. The sergeant checked in his ammo sack, but could find only three more BR-55 clips and a pair of frag grenades. Now with McLaughlin's recovered rifle he could still fight, but there wasn't much he could do with only three clips.
      There had been no contacts at their position yet, and the enemies that had been trailing them must have slowed their pace or been redirected because there had been more then enough time for them to strike. Each of them were tense though. They had made it this far and certainly didn't want to go out at that point. Corporal Annatto was beside him at that point, a veteran of more than one campaign as well he knew how to handle himself in combat but the pressure was even getting to him. Annatto loosened his helmet and readjusted it on his head to get a better line of sight through the eye piece.
       "It's one hell of a few days we've been having eh Sarge?"
       "Things have been worse that's all I know. Once we mop up the rest of them from the deck plates we're going to be out of this system for good."
       "I don't know about that, Covenant's all over the place out there. We're gonna be here for a while Sarge. How long do you figure it'll take to destroy a whole enemy fleet?"
       "Well that depends how many badass marines are on the boarding party!" Barrows grinned; there was nothing that could raise a marine's spirits like good old fashioned overconfidence. That was then he got the call through his communications system. The ship's AI was calling every available squad to reinforce the bridge before it was overrun. The sergeant had to make a decision, could he afford to leave his position with his wounded and engage the enemy or simply wait and hope that the other marine fire teams could do the job without them.
       "This is fire team Knife to any other forces, can you reach the bridge?" Barrows inquired, he needed a response and quick. But the channel was silent for a while until a few moments later a voice came through.
       "Knife this is Alpha, over"
       "Knife here I copy, what's your status?"
       "We've taken a lot of casualties but stalled the enemy at our junction. We're two decks below the bridge, we can make it there in a few minutes but we're pretty shook up. I don't know what we can do ourselves. Can you assist?"
      Barrows took a millisecond to contemplate but knew what his instincts told him to do. "Roger that, Alpha, we're on our way up to you now. Give us five."
       "Copy, Knife, over and out."
      The sergeant turned to Annatto and then surveyed their defenses. "All right ladies we're saddling up. Hudson, Wayne, use that plasma rifle to seal the access doors to this stairwell, and grab whatever metal plating you can find to weld onto them. Annatto give Porter a hand carrying Kline, we're going up to the bridge. Ramirez you've got point."
      Barrows put his rifle down, and searched through the nearby rucksack for any plastic explosives but found none. He'd have to hope that sealing the doors would be enough to slow the enemy down long enough. A few meters away the blue light of the confiscated plasma rifle lit the shadows as the marines used it as a makeshift chemical torch to melt the two doors together. The sergeant could almost feel the Covenant approaching and wasn't surprised when the private declared it.
       "Sarge I got movement," Hudson declared looking down to his handheld motion tracker. It was as large as a fragmentation grenade but thinner and rectangular in shape. It was identical in operation to the ones within a Spartan's armor on the HUD, but had a range of 20 meters. "18 meters and closing."
       "Finish that weld on the double," Barrows barked, and then he turned to Annatto and urged him to get moving. There wasn't much time to spare.
      The two privates at the door had sweat beading down their whole bodies and it wasn't just heat from the plasma, the motion tracker seemed to show a sea of red rather than individual dots approaching them. Barrows stood cover behind them with his battle rifle trained at the door while Porter and Annatto carried Kline up the stairs.
       "Distance?" the sergeant demanded for an update.
       "Ten meters," Hudson replied. "Eight now, they're moving fast."
       "Drop that shit and pull back now." The sergeant didn't have to give that order twice, Wayne threw the almost uncharged plasma rifle away and unslung his shotgun, and Hudson backed away from the door just as quickly. "Let's move out marines!"
      The privates turned around and ran past Barrows knowing all too well what was behind them but the sergeant held back to provide cover. It was then that he heard the first bang against the solid metal doors. He took a step back up the stairs but didn't flinch or even move his aim from a jackal's head height on the door. The raw metal didn't seem to be enough to contain the enemy, after only a handful of impacts the doors began to dent and warp. Something had infused the enemy with a fury; they weren't content to destroy the metal with weapons they wanted to beat it down with brute strength. Barrows wasn't a man to fear an enemy but he recognized danger, and an angry elite was dangerous. He didn't have the strength to defeat one, so he took another two steps back for insurance.
       "Annatto what's your status?" he asked into the communications link.
       "Two decks below the bridge, no resistance encountered."
      Then a crash came, the top half of the doors literally folded down as if they were peeled off. Barrows fired two rapid bursts without a second guess, took three more steps back up the stairs and threw a frag grenade down before making a quick retreat. He couldn't afford the time to cover his retreat, instead Barrows turned completely around charged up the stairs. There was no looking back; he used all his energy to propel himself from one stair to the next. "Corporal report in."
       "We're at the A deck doorway, about to go inside."
       "All right, I'll be there in a second, watch your six for my approach. I've got Covies on my tail."
       "Roger that, we've got their motion, they've slowed down a little."
      The sergeant then changed the communications channel. "Fire team Knife to Alpha, respond."
       "Roger Knife, this is Robertson, we're advancing on the bridge and are in section nine right now, the only thing we've come across yet is a handful of enemy stragglers."
       "Received Alpha, we're inbound and will meet you enroute to the bridge, over."
      At last he reached the top landing, and in one motion dropped to a knee and spun around to take aim behind him, but there was nothing there. He exhaled deeply, and checked the open doorway to his left. Below him in the distance he could hear the guttural noises of an elite and knew he had to keep moving.
      On the corridor wall a red arrow indicated the direction of the bridge but Barrows quickly scanned the opposite direction first to make certain there was no one behind him. A marine clad in full armor and a Navy tech lay sprawled out on the floor covered in blood and gore but that was all. The sergeant turned and sped up his pace to get back to his squad as soon as possible. Running through the corridors wasn't different even in the heat of battle, each bulkhead resembled the last, and only the guidance markers on the walls made any impact. He was reunited at a four-way intersection with his squad, Porter and Ramirez stood on the opposite side of the junction then the others and a suppressing enemy fire prevented the other four from crossing as well. Barrows approached the scene to get a better idea passing by Wayne who stood guard over the group's rear. The sergeant went over to the corporal who held tightly not onto his weapon but his right shoulder.
       "What happened here Annatto?"
       "You wouldn't believe it Sarge, we were making our way through, when the enemy came out from behind the corner, and they must have seen us coming. Porter and Ramirez got through by the time they came out but one of them caught me with a carbine," the corporal removed his hand from the wound to reveal the burned flesh of a plasma burn wound. It struck in between the ballistics armor and meant that other than a magnum pistol in his odd hand Annatto couldn't fire a weapon.
       "Hold tight, we're getting out of here," he encouraged, but could see the situation was grim. He looked up to see Ramirez turn the corner to fire a burst from his rifle only to be caught by a plasma bolt, it struck him in the chest knocking him back. On the ground a pair of others struck him in the legs, Porter reached down and tried to pull him back to safety but by the time the marine was entirely behind the corner again burns and blood covered his body and his uniform was in shatters. Porter looked to Barrows and shook his head negatively. The sergeant scratched his cap covered head in frustration and anger. Kline was still out cold and now only Porter and Hudson were there providing return fire against what seemed to be overwhelming force. Barrows approached the corner, standing above Private Hudson, and scanned around the corner. A plasma bolt burned away a chunk of the bulkhead only a meter in front of his face so he retreated back completely behind cover. There were four grunts, a pair of jackals with handheld shields and an elite commander blocking their path, and he knew an even larger force pursued them.
      An idea struck the beleaguered NCO, one that was little better then suicide, but if he didn't do it they'd quickly be overrun and consumed by the combined enemy forces. He told all his marines to keep firing, and support him, which meant little to them before he actually did what he intended. Barrows turned around the corner and fired the rest of his clip at the elite in the other corridor. Its shield's lit up, but then died down once the rounds had impacted. He then tossed his last grenade down the corridor. The jackals were quick to bring their shields to the front to protect their commander and themselves but a pair of grunts were unfortunate enough not to be behind the protective barrier. Their bodies flew through the air and alien blood sprayed across the bulkheads. The elite was enraged and no longer could wait to see the humans dead. It ordered the soldiers forward. Barrows reloaded his clip and double checked that his magnum was still there in his right holster.
       "Sarge I got movement on the tracker, enemies at 20 meters," Wayne declared. The sergeant had to ignore that for the moment and deal with the threat that was before him.
      Hudson and Porter tried to stem the attack of the four Covenant soldiers but behind the cover of the enemy shields their weapons did little. Hudson fired a burst but quickly pulled back to avoid oncoming fire.
       "How far away are they?" Barrows questioned.
       "Maybe five, six meters," Hudson replied.
       "Okay, then cover me." The sergeant swung out from the corner, fired a burst and then moved ahead in a crouched weaver stance reducing the enemy's target area. His actions caught Hudson and Porter by surprise almost as much as he did the enemy. For a split second they didn't even turn to fire at the approaching target. The two marines back behind the corner meanwhile laid down as best fire as they could without hitting their own NCO. The two jackals were first in line, and Barrows knew how he was going to handle them, at full speed ahead he aimed right at the gap in the leftmost jackal's shield and kept his finger on the trigger. The combined ammunition of Barrows' battle rifle and his supporting fire took down the first jackal but even as his rifle clicked empty he didn't halt. He met the second jackal face to face and used the butt of his rifle to strike down the enemy. The jackal raised its shield but too late, a full blow struck across the jackal's skull and without hesitation or a second thought Barrows dropped his rifle and policed the shield from the collapsing enemy. The one grunt had turned to flee the moment it had seen the first jackal fall only to be shot down by Porter at the end of the corridor. The other one stood its ground and shot at Barrows with his new shield. The sergeant slowed for the moment to get a full grip on the shield and pull out his pistol. The grunt fired a barrage from its plasma pistol but the sergeant blocked each bolt with the shield. Barrows moved into position to take the miniature soldier out but Hudson beat him to the punch by planting a burst right on target ripping the alien's head apart. It didn't end there however, the elite fired ever constantly, its plasma rifle near overheat but still it did not cease. The sergeant stood and with his pistol aimed through the side hole of the shield he charged. Every round made contact with the elite's shields flaring them to a silver-blue shimmer, just as its plasma bolts each hit the mark but only splashed against the handheld shield. With every round exchanged the elite grew more furious until finally its shield flared for the last time then died, and Barrows fired another two rounds hitting the elite square in the chest penetrating its armor. Still the enormous beast did not die instead summoned its strength and charged weaponless as its rifle laid on the floor spent of ammunition as well. As the gap closed between the two soldiers to only a meter the elite swung its powerful arms downward but it was too tall and didn't reach down enough. Barrows ducked down and once below the alien's arms he exploded upwards with his shield leading the way. The shear momentum was enough to knock the titanic warrior off its feet and it doubled over in pain. The sergeant using the moment of his enemy's confusion to his own advantage reached down to his left-hand holster pulled out his second pistol. The elite snarled and its mouth erupted into its four separate jaws as Barrows fired another four rounds into its body. It twitched momentarily then laid still with blood spilling from the wounds.
      Breathless, Barrows waited a moment on top of the alien corpse until Hudson called from the intersection. The NCO ran back to the urgent call to see Porter sprawled on the deck holding to his stomach with his hands covered in blood.
       "Oh shit," Barrows uttered silently at the sight. "You're going to pull through Porter."
       "Yes sir," the wounded man said, but he knew wounds better then any of the others and could diagnose himself and it wasn't good. The plasma burned through the armor and the internal organs there were melted on contact with the super heated ions. Hudson pulled the biofoam from Porter's rucksack and applied it to the gaping wound just above the medic's waist. But the bleeding didn't cease entirely.
       "Sarge, the enemy, their on our asses, ten meters and closing," Wayne ran over to inform his NCO.
      His options were out but there was no leaving a man behind, Barrows lifted Porter up and carried the man's weight while Annatto carried Kline over his good shoulder as the battered squad made a quick escape from their pursuers leaving behind only blood stained deck plating and alien corpses. Behind them the high pitched voices of grunts could be heard, and with each one they seemed to be getting closer until a plasma bolts flew past the group and hit the light element just a few feet in front of the squad.
       "Hit the deck!" Barrows exclaimed as he purposely dropped to the ground. Porter groaned with pain as he too fell to the hard deck plating. A few more shots of plasma quickly passed overhead, Private Wayne ducked down and threw a frag grenade back but it fell short of the target and the plasma continued to spray through the corridor.
       "How many signals are back there Hudson?" the sergeant asked under fire.
      The marine caught his breath and tried to read the tracker with all the adrenaline that was flowing. "Maybe a dozen Sarge," he finally said uncertainly just a shot of plasma burned the wall plate not three feet from his head.
      There was no way that they could survive the enemy for much longer, but the bridge was only two sections away. If they could stall the enemy for only a moment they could make a break for it but the tags on the motion tracker only showed the red signals growing closer.
      Barrows activated his radio in desperation, "Fire team Alpha, this is Knife, requesting reinforcements we're under heavy Covenant fire and have wounded." The sergeant then listened, almost entirely blocking the assault weapon fire from his mind, but there was nothing but silence. He turned back to begin firing on the enemy when he was struck by a green plasma bolt. It burned through the armor on his chest and then his uniform's below it. Barrows clinched his teeth in absolute pain, he could feel the sensation as his skin burned. He fell to the ground on his back and desperately used his hands searching for the straps that held the armor to his body. As soon as his hand gripped the polymer lock he tore it off with all his strength and threw the damaged body armor away. For a second Barrows didn't move and instead caught his breath and tried to overcome the pain in his chest. Annatto ran over to his superior carrying Porter's medical kit in one hand and a pistol in the other, he ignored the intense pain in his own shoulder.
       "Sarge, hold on you took a shot right to your chest, you need to get that thing dressed," the corporal intervened as Barrows attempted to sit up.
       "No," the sergeant protested. "Get Kline and Porter to the bridge, we'll stay her and cover your six."
      Annatto however would have none of it, and removed a battlefield dressing from the pack and began to deal with the sergeant's wound when a scream came from behind him. "Needles!" The voice yelled. The corporal pushed Barrows down to the deck to cover him, then got down and covered his own head.
      The NCO drifted for a moment until his was shaken abruptly. Annatto was trying to keep him conscious, at least that's what he believed at first until he saw only a blank stare on the corporal's face and he fell to the side. Barrows caught him right before he hit the deck, but on his back could feel the sticky wetness of fresh blood on his hands. The shock brought Barrows right back and he no longer even bothered to consider his own wound. He flipped Annatto over to reveal the wound. The needles embedded themselves not only in the corporal's armor but his spine as well, and completely obliterated both. Blood began to pool around the corpse, Barrows saw, but he couldn't do anything more for Annatto. The sergeant got to his knees and collected his assault weapon and Annatto's fallen pistol. To his right he saw Porter sitting motionless against the wall with his eyes shut, and Barrows began to realize the hopelessness of his situation.
      Privates Wayne and Hudson continued to fire and had taken down a couple of the enemy troopers but they were outnumbered six to one and running short of ammunition. A blue armored elite charged to the forefront of the Covenant attack and fired its plasma rifle on the two marines who didn't flinch but stood their ground and returned fire. Wayne was hit immediately, he dropped his aim but didn't stop firing, and a second later he was struck again, this time the plasma struck the edge of his helmet melting it away. Wayne let go of his weapon and tore off his helmet before the plasma heated armor and polymer could reach his skull. The elite in the meantime still charged until Hudson exchanged his last burst for a kill shot as the elite's shields finally buckled and a pair of rounds struck it in square in the face.
      Even with the elite gone though the enemy fire persisted; Barrows moved up to take Wayne's position while he helped move Kline back. In unison the remains of their squad began to pull back. Then suddenly a pair of explosions erupted in front of them, not from plasma grenades but a marine's. Barrows looked to Hudson but the private's hands still held his battle rifle, but behind them then rose with the roar of gunfire. Hundreds of rounds passed over their heads, as the marines of fire team Knife dropped to a prone position. The surprise combined with the sheer amount of return fire took the Covenant by surprise and in the first exchange over half of their force dropped permanently. Tiny grunts seeing their shielded elite commanders drop to a hail of gunfire turned to run, and while a few Covenant stood their ground two more frag grenades and six BR-55 clips worth of ammunition finished their resistance.
      Barrows rolled onto his back and sat up to see a six person squad of marines, guns at the ready, scanning the corridor. They too appeared battle worn but one way or another they had saved their lives. He stood up and approached the officer at the front of the squad, and saluted.
       "Are you all right sergeant?" the lieutenant asked seeing the wound on Barrows' chest.
       "Yes sir, but my fire team is low on ammo and some need medical attention," the sergeant said directly.
       "All right then, let's get you to the bridge, all our defenses are set up there," the marine officer declared. "The Covenant are going to make another assault any time now and it's better to be out of the corridors when that happens."
      Barrows agreed and followed their rescuers through the two sections to the wide opening at the bridge. A male and female marine stood guard at the entrance behind a pair of barricades, they both wore stone cold stares on their faces as they scanned either direction that an enemy force could attack the bridge. The central command area, normal surrounded only by a brass railing was now fortified with barricades, armor and large chunks of bulkheads which had collapsed. Four more marines watched from behind the makeshift fortress in the bridge, but that was the entire marine compliment posted. Everyone else there wore colored tech jumpsuits and naval insignia, a few manned the odd station or console while others held pistols and guarded the area with the marines. The lieutenant he followed to the bridge went immediately over to the left side of the bridge and approached a pair of naval officers. One looked like he might as well have been a kid straight from the Academy at Luna. He was a kid born in North America who if there wasn't a war would have probably been in university without a care in the world. Instead he was tirelessly working at a console and reporting to the second officer who stood beside him. The other one carried a pistol in one hand and had obviously been wounded since he wore a blood stained dressing on his arm, he was a taller man, probably six foot two, African American, and commanded respect from appearance alone. Whatever the younger officer was telling him angered him though; when the marine lieutenant approached formal salutes were exchanged and they began to discuss something that Barrows couldn't hear.
      The sergeant therefore looked back to his own squad. Hudson despite the earlier wound during the first fire fight was ready and able for combat and took up a defensive position with the other marines. Kline and Wayne were being cared for by a Navy corpsman off to the side of the bridge with another marine and a naval officer who'd been wounded as well. Two of the marines that had come to their aid back in the corridor had left the bridge to patrol the approaches to the command area, while the other three manned the defenses.
       "Sergeant," a voice called from behind Barrows. He turned immediately although there very well could have been other NCOs in the bridge, but it turned out the voice was addressing him. The lieutenant had called him over.
      Barrows gave a crisp salute as though they were on a parade ground rather then a battlefield as he approached the group of officers.
       "Sergeant, I'm Lieutenant Hu, this is Captain Roland," the officer introduced. "I called you over because I need an NCO for the squad, half of these marines are coming from different squads and fire teams but I don't have a single sergeant among them."
       "Yes, sir, I'll get them up to speed right away sir."
      The lieutenant was a little surprised by the sergeant's cool under pressure attitude as was the captain. "You understand that internal sensors are on the fritz right now so we don't exactly when the enemy is going to come until the very last moment so we've sent out patrols to give us an early warning."
       "To be entirely accurate Lieutenant sensors are inoperative," the digitized voice of Apollo declared over the bridge speakers.
       "All we know sergeant is that at the moment other than the fire teams assigned to guard engineering the enemy haven't attacked any of our positions in almost ten minutes," Roland declared. "They're making a move and soon."
       "We'll be ready sir," Barrows assured him.
       "Good, then as you were sergeant."

      Captain Roland still didn't know what to make of the situation, they'd lost contact with the Waterloo almost five minutes earlier and although the last word he'd heard reported situation normal the battle with the Covenant could have changed that quickly. He checked again the dressing on his wound, the bleeding had stopped but the burning feeling remained. His condition wasn't the one to be concerned about, Yakasora laid dying on the bridge, and no amount of biofoam could substitute for the facilities and equipment he needed in the medical bay.
      Roland decided against thinking about his officer's mortality and instead watched the monitor of the external sensors and radar. Apollo's distinctive classical appearance rose from the holographic pedestal.
       "What's happening Apollo?" Roland asked seeing the TAC display suddenly freeze, or so it seemed as though it had.
       "Unusual Captain, it appears that both UNSC vessels have ceased fire, the enemy continues to engage," the AI declared.
       "Did the enemy disable their weapons systems?"
       "Negative sir, I detected no critical hits since last I reported," Apollo said. "Both vessels are coming about, at full speed en-route to our position."
       What the hell was going on, Roland wondered silently to himself, it wasn't like Cynthia to turn away from the enemy. Did Zedillo order a retreat? Roland nearly erupted at the mere thought of it, his crew was fighting and dying to keep the battle going and he was going to throw in the towel. He couldn't stomach retreat, not now, not after so many lost, it had to be victory even at all costs, if they were going to beat the Covenant they had to begin to fight with the same fever that they did.
       "Transmission from the Muhammad sir" Ensign Jordan declared.
       "Put them through," the captain ordered.
       "Prepare to abandon the Isaac Brock, we're inbound ETA five minutes. Get as many of your people off as possible and we'll retrieve the life pods," Captain Reece declared with utmost urgency in her voice.
       "What about the survivors from the Huron?" Roland demanded as if to give a reason for why they could not retreat.
       "The Confidence is going to get them, in the meantime you have to get to a life pod," she stressed.
       "We can't leave!" Roland protested. "We can still beat them."
       "Marcus, the CCS cruiser and the frigate that were disabled are powering up again, we're outnumbered and outgunned. We can't win. You have to get off the ship now." Reece was now ordering her superior, but Roland would not budge. He turned to Apollo looking for confirmation on the two Covenant vessels and got it.
       "I refuse to give this ship up," Roland declared passionately. "I'm sorry Cynthia."
       "Marcus, please don't do this-" she began to plead but Roland abruptly silenced her by switching the channel off.
       "Captain, the Prophet Muhammad is continuing to hail," Jordan announced with a trembling voice.
       "Ignore it Ensign." Then Roland opened a ship-wide channel. "All non-combat personnel report to the life pods and immediately abandon ship."
      The men and women on the bridge looked at him with absent stares; they were as surprised as they were scared. He held their lives in his hands and to question whether or not he wielded them properly was only human, but had years of distinguished service finally climaxed to a stressful breakdown. Was the man commanding them driven and no longer concerned with their lives. To follow a man to their deaths was something most there were unable to accept, they had families, lovers, and lives ahead of them, and to give it all up in the middle of a void was too much.
      Amazingly it was not the young ensigns and private with lives still left to live, nor the all-knowing artificial intelligence to question the command but a sergeant of the marine corps. A man who for the better part of his life followed the orders of those higher in the chain then himself without question and had too many battle scars to prove it.
       "Captain, we can't win this fight," Barrows said simply without any sense of combat in his voice. "We're no good to any one dead, if we die here the Covenant win, but if we can save as many lives as we can then we have another chance to win this war, we can make a difference only if we're alive to make it."
      The captain, consumed with anger, raised his pistol and aimed at Barrows. "I am the captain of this vessel sergeant, you don't command my crew, and nor do you command me."
      Barrows raised his own pistol to address the threat instinctively, but as soon as he did the marines and crew throughout the bridge raised their weapons clearly showing their allegiance with a single motion. A standoff began with almost two dozen itchy trigger fingers and a lot of tension to add to the mix. Neither Barrows or Roland flinched, Private Hudson aiming at the vessel's captain could barely keep his weapon level. The stench of sweat and blood saturated the bridge almost as much as fear did. Both men didn't take their eyes of the other's and didn't move a muscle, they both stood frozen for twenty seconds. Like statues locked in a threatening position they each appeared to challenge the other to even attempt to move.

Skirmish at Sirius Alpha Part 6
Date: 8 May 2006, 3:36 pm

      Apollo's voice suddenly broke the tense silence "Long range sensors detect inbound craft." The AI was programmed to operate the destroyer, all its functions from weapons to engines, but a threat of mutiny exceeded Apollo's program all together. Without taking his gaze off Barrows, Captain Roland told Ensign Seville who was still siding with her captain to investigate.
       "Captain, it's a Covenant cruiser, they're less than 100,000 km away from the Prophet Muhammad and look like they're preparing to make a jump into the system," she announced.
       "Captain, you can't take on these ships with the Isaac Brock alone," Barrows tried to sway the officer.
       "I'll draw them in," Roland argued. "And once they're in range I'll self destruct our two vessels, take the entire fleet down with me."
       "Captain," Yakasora's voice said weakly from the corner. "The sergeant's right, you have to go, save yourselves." The wounded officer groaned in pain. "Earth doesn't need dead heroes right now, sir."
      Roland suddenly saw the reality of himself standing there as he appeared to others, a madman with a gun committing the men and women under his command to their certain deaths. Unable to commit to that he slowly dropped his aim, neck, chest, waist until finally his pistol was aimed at the deck. The entire bridge breathed deep but Barrows' group didn't lower their weapons until the sergeant had done so. Roland was about to say something when a voice came over the communications system.
       "Enemy movement on the motion tracker, they're heading this way, twenty meters distance from my position," one of the marines on patrol declared through the comm. system.
       "All marines return to your posts," Lieutenant Hu ordered, and just like that the bridge took up defensive positions. Four marines stood guard at the outer barricades, and the rest fell back inside the bridge with the naval officers and crewmen behind the command centre emplacements.
      Noise echoed through the left hand corridor leading out of the bridge, loud footsteps approached. The two marines sent out on patrol ran through the barricaded position entirely out of breath before stopping in the rear of the bridge.
       "Ulsov, how many were there?" Hu addressed one of the returned marines.
       "Too many to count sir, and their coming right here."
       "The El-tee didn't ask for guess marine, he wanted a number," Barrows barked.
       "Maybe thirty sir," the second marine jumped to respond after being scowled by the NCO. "We could only get a few of their numbers before they got to close; we had to pull back before they got us sir."
       "All right, take your posts, and prepare to engage," the lieutenant ordered.
      Everyone in that room was at the breaking point, but each stood their ground. They were armed to the teeth, BR-55 rifles, shotguns, fragmentation grenades and a pair of recovered plasma rifles to add to it, but that couldn't ease the fear they all shared.
       "Distance Olsov?"
       "Sixteen meters."
      Everyone tightened their grips, Hudson slammed his magazine into its socket to double check it was secured, and Barrows leaned down and aimed through his battle rifle's sight.
       "Thirteen sir," the marine announced.
       "All right lock and load marines, they're just around the corner now."
       "Ten." Silence prevailed, no one moved a muscle. Some prayed, some said goodbye, Barrows only watched and waited.
       "Eight meters," the marine said with surprise. There was no fire being exchanged, eight meters distance from his position in the bridge meant they were only about five or six from the marines manning the outermost defenses.
       "Marine are you reading that thing right?" the lieutenant demanded.
       "Yes sir, seven meters right now."
       "I've got nothing up here," one of the marines in the forward defense announced.
       "Are they camouflaged elites?" A private questioned.
       "No the cloaking technology prevents us from picking them up," Barrows declared. "Hudson double check that reading."
      The private lowered his rifle and activated his own motion tracker. "I've got them Sarge. God there's a shitload of them. Five meters now."
       "Five meters. That's almost inside bridge," Hu declared in disbelief. "Kilburn you said they were right on your tails, did you even sight them?"
      The marine who had earlier revealed the number that faced them swallowed hard. "Sir we pulled out before we had them in sight, but they we're only ten meters away on the tracker, we needed to pull out."
       "They're all over the place, sir, all around us," Olsov exclaimed in panic.
       "The tracker's reading right, Sarge," Hudson declared as he dropped the device and grabbed his rifle again.
       "Where the hell are they?" A marine finally blurted out, he was scared and anxious all at the same time.
       "Stow that son," Barrows blasted.
      Roland moved his aim from left to right, he didn't see anything except marines and navy crew. Instinctively he knew the enemy was there until it struck him, he looked down and took a step back as though he could see through the deck itself.
       "They're in the deck below us," Roland declared loud enough that everyone on the bridge could hear.
       "Oh shit!" A marine exclaimed, but before a single person could move more than a foot from where they originally stood an explosion filled the air. Blue light erupted and metal deck plating sprayed in all directions. Everyone in the bridge shielded themselves from the flying debris but only an instant after the explosion plasma bolts erupted from the smoke. The deck had been breached between the two defensive positions, and the Covenant immediately sprayed all directions with fire. One marine in the forward position caught onto the threat too slowly and before he could jump to the other side of the barricade was struck down by a plasma bolt to the back of the head. The UNSC forces however by a lucky break had the enemy in a crossfire and as soon as an elite or grunt crawled through the deck it was met by a barrage of bullets.
      Another explosion sounded, this time behind the rear position just aft of the navigation console. Barrows turned to meet the threat and fired the remainder of his clip into the hole. Kilburn followed up with a grenade and a second explosion came from the same area but this time was met with an elite's growl.
      Then the Covenant blew another entry point this time right underneath the rear defensive position, the plasma from the explosion killed two marines instantly and shrapnel ripped away another's right leg. Screams and blood hurled into the air as well as the bodies of the two unfortunate marines. All three entrance points began to pour out Covenant soldiers, but the humans put a formidable resistance firing unceasingly at the enemy as they tried to crawl up.
      An elite's shield lit up as a pair of marines fired with full force, it climbed all the way out of the hole and opened fire on its attackers. The female marine dodged to the side but the other was bombarded by half a dozen shots and his entire body crumpled to the deck. Roland fired two shots to break the enemy shield then three more to stop the creature in its steps. Barrows in the meantime was confronted by a pair of jackals that using their shields as cover while they climbed up and now had a suppressing fire on the rear defensive position. Beside him Kilburn was shot and fell down beside him in pain, but together with Lieutenant Hu the first jackal was brought down with the combined fire and the second with a grenade.
      A scream filled the room as Crewman Callum was hit in the back and dropped facedown on the deck dead. A marine standing only a meter from the hole in the deck within the rear position turned away from the hole for an instant and spotted a pair of grunts. Armed with a plasma rifle he fired six bolts, the first two killed the one and also ignited the grunts methane tank blowing his partner up as well. The victory cost him his life though, as he looked away the enemy fired through the hole and struck him right in the side of the head.
      Hudson and Olsov seeing their position exposed moved over to cover the entrance. An elite reached up and wrapped its claws around the deck attempting to pull itself up. The privates fired a full magazine each and were able to break through its shield and just as it got fully up the last bursts knocked it back down through the deck to a hard impact below. Hudson tossed his last grenade below and three seconds later an explosion rocked the deck that he stood on. They both got closer and sprayed the entire area with bursts of bullets from their fresh clips. The enemy however didn't cower and replied with plasma. Olsov was struck in the armor and knocked off balance and fell forward through the deck. Hudson reached out to catch him but the abrupt stop in gunfire allowed an elite to reach up and grab the marine by the ankle. Hudson was pulled to the ground and could feel his very leg being broken by the creature's grip alone. He frantically reached out for something to grab a hold of.
       "Sarge!" He yelled at the top of his lungs in fear. Hudson grabbed hold of a barricade with one arm and tried to pull himself back but the elite had too strong a grip. Barrows saw his man being pulled below and ran to him. "Sarge help me, he's got my leg."
      The elite had dragged Hudson almost up to the waist below deck but Barrows dropped his battle rifle to the side and bent down to pull the private back. With his left arm he pulled and with his right Barrows used a pistol to shoot below. Hudson screamed in pain, they were tearing at his legs without mercy. Barrows tried with all his strength but the Covenant pulling his man were too strong, Hudson at the last moment reached up to his sergeant and grabbed a fragmentation grenade from his belt. Barrows fell backward as Hudson was pulled from him, but saw what he had taken with him, the sergeant grabbed his battle rifle and jumped away from the hole in the deck. A moment later body parts and blood erupted upwards through it.
      Behind him from the second of the Covenant's entry points two grunts crawled up flanked by a pair of elites. Lieutenant Hu, Ensign Seville and a navy tech were standing guard and fired on the enemy. The first few shots put down the grunts but it gave the elites their chance to take aim. Purple crystalline needles flew through the air and flew straight towards Hu. The marine dropped low and fired two bursts at the elites but the needles impacted and buried themselves into his helmet and chest armor. Both exploded simultaneously and the half lieutenant's skull was blown apart immediately. Seville managed to take down one of the elite's shields and score a kill shot, but was taken down by three successive plasma bolts which easily burned through her uniform and then her body. She collapsed unable to breathe as her lungs had been burned away. The young navy tech fired the last bullets in his clip but it wasn't enough to get through the shield he turned to run but before he could make it a step he was struck in the back of the head fell to the deck dead.
      The remaining elite out of the group of four moved on Barrows to attack him from behind and in all the confusion of the battle no one noticed its movement. Marines fired bursts of weapons fire; the enemy replied with plasma, soldiers on both sides fell wounded and dead. One marine collected a plasma grenade from a corpse and threw it at a jackal, the grenade stuck to it and as soon as it had realized what had happened it ran frantically towards its own commander. The explosion that ensued killed half a dozen Covenant in a instant. Ensign Jordan together with a female marine had caught an elite in a crossfire and soon brought it down as it howled in pain and anger. Three grunts spying easy targets at the other end of the bridge ran at the wounded. Only the navy corpsman there carried a weapon and too late did he see the threat. The grunts opened fire and killed the man without hesitation then began to fire at the wounded. Yakasora was hit in the chest and died instantly, the wounded marine from fire team Alpha tried to crawl away from his attackers only to be shot in the back. Wounded but still combat effective Private Wayne reached out and grabbed the fallen corpsman's weapon. He took aim and the little creatures which he could see to eye with from his sitting position. Three shot rang out, and the private killed two of them. He turned to take aim at the third but was struck dead in the face by a plasma bolt and fell over dead onto the still unconscious Kline beside him. The blood from his fatal wound spilled onto the only surviving casualty there and the grunt not noticing the difference didn't fire on Private Kline. Crewman Petrov battled hand to hand with a jackal both weaponless but fighting for their lives and both opposing forces so caught up in their own battles didn't intervene. Instead the two sides beat each other with bare fists.
      In all of this confusion and separate conflicts the elite edged closer to Barrows and took aim at the back of his head. The merciless enemy growl with pleasure and fired a single bolt. The bolt moved at near the speed of light but Captain Roland had a head start, he'd seen the elite take aim just barely, and jumped to intervene. In midair both the naval officer and plasma moved so quickly but from the perspective of the captain everything was in slow motion. He threw his arms out in front of him and propelled Barrows to the grounds but in the meantime the bolt struck Roland in the midsection burning through his uniform instantly. The captain doubled over in pain but he'd given Barrows the opportunity he needed. The sergeant rose to a knee and fired three bursts to knock out its shield and then a final one to finish it off for good. Barrows having dealt with the threat looked to Barrows who was bleeding heavily.
       "I'm fine sergeant," Roland declared with explosions overpowering his voice.
       "Stay put captain," Barrows said. "The Covenant don't seem to be attacking in as large a number but they're still here."
      And then the sergeant reloaded his battle rifle and reentered the fight shooting a jackal in the head when it was turned around attacking another marine. The enemy however no longer emerged from the deck below them and with each enemy that they killed allowed them to double up on another. One by one, grunts, jackals, and elites fell under the humans' combined gunfire until the last elite surrounded by a navy tech, Crewman Petrov, Ensign Jordan, and three marines including Sergeant Barrows fell.
      For a moment silence reigned once again, until the dull moans of the wounded prevailed. Private Kilburn and Captain Roland were on the deck wounded and it wasn't long before the reality of the situation sank in. Around them dozens of corpses were sprawled out, the bridge crew and a combination of four different marine squads all contributed to the bloodshed. Captain Roland forced himself to his feet and surveyed his bridge or what was left of it. Plasma scorches were all over just as with bullet holes. The majority of the consoles were damaged or completely destroyed, it was as if the battle from the previous day had occurred twice over.
       "Apollo, what's the ship status?" Roland asked weakly.
       "There has been no further reports of Covenant attacks on any marine positions Captain," the AI announced. "However there is a more important issue that should have your attention currently. Please refer to the tactical display."
      Roland was immediately intrigued, even under the threat of a fully operational Covenant vessels and three heavily damaged ones he didn't feel compelled to flee. The captain wiped the bluish blood of a Covenant soldier from the screen revealing the tactical map of the Sirius star system. The new enemy cruiser was there certainly and the weakened remains of the first fleet but there was something else in the system. In battle formation and fully armed was a massive UNSC carrier, two destroyers and a pair of corvettes. Admiral Krüger hadn't just come through for them; he'd done so in a very big way.

      The enemy was caught entirely off guard, as they rushed in system to destroy the wounded fleet they hadn't even charged plasma torpedoes. Overconfidence led them to believe they had time to toy with the ruined UNSC forces. Oppositely the UNSC fleet had emerged from slipspace with weapons armed and at the ready. The carrier Trygve Lie led the way. Although technically it was weaker armed then UNSC vessels with a cruiser designation a Mystic-class UNSC carrier was fifty percent larger then a Halycon class cruiser and formed much differently then the long, narrow design of most UNSC vessels. Shaped like a wedge a carrier had three large rectangular sections, each 1890 meters in length, protruding from the front of the primary superstructure all the way to the back. The carrier's rectangular pods were not an attractive looking component to the craft but each had its purpose. The port and starboard ones were the magnetic catapults used to accelerate the carrier's smaller craft to almost maximum thrust without using any of the ships propellant. The entire system worked similar to the MAC system installed on the Pillar of Autumn a single charge could launch three successive vessels with only a fraction of a second's distance between each vessel. The launch itself was a testament to the courage of each pilot as one wrong move could result in a collision killing the entire squadron. This risk was off-balanced by the rapid deployment that the system enabled. Each one of the carrier's catapults could launch six fighters each in only a minute. The enemy would quickly be overwhelmed by the size of the force that opposed them. The catapult system only took up the forward 500 meters of each protruding pod, the rear most sections were vacuum sealed and used a magnetic braking system which utilized stable magnetic and electric fields to apply a force decreasing the velocity of a landing craft. A Longsword could successfully land on the carrier while entering at nearly three-quarters of its maximum speed. As soon as it was back in the craft could either undergo immediate refueling and rearming and be moved right back into the catapult chamber to be launched again or put back into the storage racks. The middle chamber was also divided into two separate sections. The rear most area was essentially the size of Marathon class cruiser except entirely hallowed out and it contained only a set of massive cargo and storage bays. It was here that the carrier's entire fighter and transport compliment was stored, each of these bays were conveniently connected to the catapults by direct passageways large enough for any craft that the vessel carried. A Longsword squadron could be removed from its storage racks, loaded onto the hydraulic system of movers and be in the catapult ready for launch in only ten minutes at peek operation. Forward of the single ship storage bays was the bulk of the command area of the vessel. The bridge, observation area, some crew quarters and one of the cryogenic storage bays. The rest of the ship's operational areas including engineering, armories, medical bays, and others were spread within the wedge shaped superstructure of the carrier. At the back of the carrier three enormous engines were spaced together between the two receiving areas for the spacecraft landing on the ship. A UNSC carrier's armament was comparatively light to other craft, it sported only fifty more centimeters of Titanium-A armor then a standard destroyer, and the entrance and exit points along the ship's exterior for single craft were clear targets for enemies since they weren't armored nearly as much as the remainder of the superstructure. Thirty-eight oversized Archer missile pods decorated the ship's hull as well and could provide a hailstorm of guided missiles on command. 50 mm point defense guns were just as numerous and below the command area on the hull was the craft's single heavy MAC cannon. In a complete package the carrier was a formidable vessel and only recently had command of such a vessel fallen to an officer ranked lower than admiral or a captain with a flag admiral onboard. The fall of Reach left many empty seats that used to be filled by admirals so command fell to the next echelon to fill some spots.
      Named for the first secretary-general of the United Nation the carrier made an imposing figure within the system and immediately put four squadrons of Longsword interceptors into the black before it's two destroyer escorts could even get into battle formation. Ho Chi Minh, and Horn were of the same class as the Isaac Brock and Prophet Muhammad. Together they fired a pair of MAC rounds each before even getting into battle formation. Each hit home on the slow moving enemy carrier and punctured the hull straight through; it wasn't a moment later the massive Covenant carrier was consumed by an explosion from within itself. The newly arrived CCS cruiser immediately turned its maneuvering thrusters to address the new threat. The damaged Covenant frigate and cruiser attempted to do the same but were hampered by their own damaged systems and the UNSC attack. The small corvettes were only three meters longer then half the length of a Renaissance-class frigate and didn't sport a heavy MAC system because of their size but had an abundance of firepower and speed nevertheless. With the fastest sublight speed in the fleet excluding, patrol cutters and prowlers, a corvette could keep up with enemy Seraphs and still take a great deal of damage before losing its operational capabilities. Complete with ten Archer missile pods, a full point defense system, and a Moray space mine launcher the corvette was a Seraph's worst enemy and could under circumstances take on a capital ship. Five years earlier at the Battle of Algerus half a dozen corvettes faced a Covenant carrier alone. The corvettes faced a vessel twice their combined size. Yet as the enemy launched Seraphs the corvettes quickly dispatched them, and the carrier had to resort to plasma torpedoes and pulse lasers. A Shiva warhead was launched and successfully brought down the enemy shield. All the corvettes orbited the enemy carrier at full speed taking shots as they went slowly breaking through the enemy defenses. Plasma torpedoes were ineffective at that close range and would have more likely hit the carrier itself while pulse lasers could hit the corvettes only three quarters of the time and weren't the one-hit kills. Eventually the corvettes wore the enemy down until finally faced with capture the carrier self destructed at the loss of only two corvettes. None of the corvettes present at the Sirius system were veterans of that battle but they both carried the same fighting spirit. The Ottoman and Crusader led the Longswords into battle against the wounded remains of the first Covenant fleet. Together they deployed a payload of missiles equal to that of a cruiser and peppered the hull of the enemy cruiser with even more damage. While the Longswords dealt with the weakened frigate the two corvettes challenged the cruiser, but it was a one sided battle, despite being out classed in each instance the enemy was damaged and operated at perhaps only 25% efficiency. It would have been more then enough to completely obliterate the Isaac Brock, Waterloo, Prophet Muhammad and Confidence but the reinforcements were a completely different story. The frigate fired pulse lasers erratically but it had two dozen Longswords maneuvering and making strafing runs around it. The cruiser fired lasers as well and even attempted to charge a plasma torpedo but in its attempts to maneuver ran into a series of Moray mines the Crusader had deployed. Ten meters of its starboard side detonated then crumbled of the rest of the superstructure.

      The fully armed and operational Covenant cruiser fared no better, as it charged three torpedoes it was struck by five MAC rounds followed immediately after by three hundred Archer missiles. The heavy rounds were enough to break through the shield and then drove five separate holes into the hull across the ship's port side. The missiles that followed enjoyed free reign on the enemy hull now with the enemy shield down. The high explosives ripped apart the colorful armor that covered the superstructure and rocked the entire vessel based on the sheer number that impacted. In the process one of the enemy torpedo turrets was destroyed leaving it with just two to launched which they did once the bolts were their familiar flaming blood red. On the bridge of the Trygve Lie Commodore Minnelli watched as the bolts erupted from the side of his target. He knew they were aimed for him, but he wasn't about to flinch. The older man was a veteran of too many battles with the Covenant to count. He didn't fear death. Together with his marine captain he stood undaunted watching the viewscreen within his large oval bridge. The massive carrier rumbled forward with the two destroyers running a few hundred meters in front on the catapult ports to protect the carrier's vital sections. With the torpedoes only seconds away and more charging the UNSC vessels launched their second salvo of MAC rounds and missiles. The plasma torpedoes grew ever closer and were on a trajectory to destroy the two destroyers. The Horn saw the torpedo coming but remained on course, chatter filled UNSC frequencies, then it struck. The plasma burned through the forward armor like it wasn't there, explosive decompressions rocked the ship. The bottom decks on the vessel were melted away and its MAC cannons were reduced to molten slag. The torpedo didn't reach the engines however and the destroyer maintained its vector. The second torpedo changed it course at the last moment and was directed to the opening on the carrier exposed on the side. It burned through the port corner of the wedge superstructure boiling away the armor right through and from one end to the other. From above the carrier's normally pointed edge was now blunt as the entire portion of the outer hull ten meters deep burned off from the remainder of the vessel. The damage was superficial to such a titanic vessel though and it too went on moving with a MAC charge almost at one hundred percent even before the enemy's torpedoes were half ready.
      The Covenant fired pulse lasers to try and slow the enemy down, especially the wounded Horn which appeared to be on the course to ram the enemy like its namesake. The five MAC rounds found their mark for a second time and without the shield back up went through one side of the ship right through the other. Entire sections of the cruiser were ripped through or ruined by rapid decompressions. The missiles that followed only made things worse and sent the vessel into a debilitating clockwise spin. Although it was obvious what the Horn intended to do her captain announced it through the communications channel anyway. Personnel ordered of the ship began to launch off life pods and the Pelicans from the ship's bay. The destroyer then put full speed to engines and began to rumble past the Ho Chi Minh and Trygve Lie. The two vessels in the rear fired their MAC cannons sending a triplet of heavy rounds at the spinning cruiser. The Covenant seeing the charging destroyer immediately abandoned everything else in order to stop that vessel. All power from charging the second torpedo was diverted to the first and all its pulse lasers opened fire. Around half the surviving crew and marine compliment was still on board the Horn when the enemy torpedo launched. A final broadcast went throughout the ship wide channel to abandon ship before it was struck by a burning ball of plasma for the second time. This time though the vessel was consumed by it. From stem to stern no amount of decompression could save the vessel. The plasma reached the reactor and the Horn burst into a nuclear fireball sending debris throughout the void. There was no time for the Covenant to celebrate however and their victory was bittersweet, the three MAC rounds struck the still spinning vessel and the forces of motion from the MAC rounds and the vessel itself tore the ship in half. Only twenty seconds after destroying the UNSC vessel the cruiser erupted in sporadic flames.

      Captain Roland took his eyes off the TAC display at long last, but still could not believe his eyes. It was hard to wrap the numbers around his mind, two Covenant frigates, three cruisers, and a carrier all destroyed in a single engagement. All for only the cost of a frigate, destroyer and less than half a dozen heavily damaged but salvageable vessels. He looked around the bridge at the men and women that remained the survivors of one of the worst battles Roland had ever seen with his own eyes. By some miracle they were still alive, and maybe if the battle had shown something they could still make a difference. Reach was gone, and Earth was the next target but Roland had seen victory, real victory was possible. It took sacrifice, but it wasn't blind, the Covenant could be bested in space just as they could on the ground. His small fleet possessed nothing other then stone cold Titanium-A, MAC rounds, and a single trick up their sleeve yet the tables were turned on the Covenant and for the second time in only two months the Covenant were on the wrong side of a one sided battle. A little bit of magnetic interference from a star, a natural random anomaly made the difference against a foe that possessed technology that was generations ahead of what his people had. If something that small could bring victory then there was hope.
       "Captain, we should really get you to medical," Ensign Jordan declared amongst the cheers and celebration on the bridge.
       "Just give me a moment ensign," Roland replied. He was overcome by the moment and needed a second still to take it all in. The pain he suffered had disappeared and if it was only temporary he intended to savor it while it lasted.

      Sergeant Barrows scanned the bridge or what remained of it to be more correct. He was careful to watch where he stepped as corpses were all over both human and alien. It was just another battlefield to the NCO though, just like dozens before it. In a few months he would say farewell to the battlefield for good though. No more blood, plasma and bullets flying, just training young ones to take his place or sitting in an office knowing that they were out there fighting still. That was unacceptable, he saw that day that he was still needed out there, on the battlefield. And not just him, everyone was needed. Young kids like Ensign Jordan or Private Wayne who in the face of combat and certain death knew their duty. Men like Private Hudson who wouldn't go down without a fight were needed just as much as a man who fled for cover when the fighting grew too intense. Marines, navy techs, and officers all had a tough job, but when it came down to it each and every one made a difference in the war. So Barrows wasn't ready for a desk job, he knew he was made for the battlefield, it was where he was needed.

      As the UNSC forces in the Sirius system began to come together, and the Bastille repair station received the signal to return all began to fall into place. Life pods were rescued, lists were made of the dead and wounded, and repairs began. All within the tiny corner of the universe everyone was busily at work as well as one other, hidden among the darkness he sat watching, just as he'd done that entire day. He was First Lieutenant Theodore Richmond, a member of the Office of Naval Intelligence's Section Three. He sat at the controls of his sleek prowler speaking with its AI ensuring that the last of the data was collected and properly documented. He considered his mission critical to the safety of humanity, or so he was expected to, his orders came straight from ONI command, and Admiral Dreadford back at Earth. So he marked the last of the sensor readings he'd taken from the battle, and then entered a quick pair of commands into the console and unbeknownst to anyone in the system the black colored vessel slipped out of the system en route to the Sol system.

Hope everyone who was able to stick it for long enough to read the whole story/series enjoyed it. This won't be last you've heard from the UNSC Isaac Brock, however the next few chapters are going to take a very different tone then these past few

On the Home Front Part 1
Date: 14 September 2006, 10:13 pm

0800 Hours, October 6, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Prowler Forgotten entering Sol system

      The black clad vessel emerged from the darkness as space was rippled and torn away to make room for its exit. ONI operated hundreds of spacecraft that were not registered nor did they ever appear in a single UNSC record. The Forgotten wasn't one of those, it was recorded on the UNSC fleet manifest and therefore it could take a more overt route to access the facilities orbiting Earth. Moments before it had left slipspace the prowler sent out a security signal to announce its arrival, and disarm the primary defense that protected Earth. Covenant trickery had become a reliable trait to their tactics and the commanders of the UNSC were no fools. As soon as a vessel was detected en-route to the Sol system the defense grid activated and even after receiving a confirmation of a friendly vessel, a third of the planet's total orbital defenses remained fully charged. After Reach no one was ready to underestimate the Covenant, not when they were literally footsteps away from the human home world.

      Lieutenant Richmond pulled the throttle back and put the vessel into a tight bank as he prepared a vector to begin an orbit of the planet. With Reach now nothing more then a smoldering ruin Earth had the greatest number of orbital facilities in the expanse of UNSC space. Ten military docking rings, four civilian ones, terrestrial satellites, extraterrestrial satellites, as well as the ever increasing fleet of Super MAC defense facilities. All the regular shipyards used by the UNSC to maintain the fleet were actually located elsewhere; Mars, Luna, and Alpha Centuri too name a few. Nevertheless Earth at any given time had approximately 500 vessels operated within its space, both military and civilian. Richmond got a small taste of that number passing by a convoy of twelve medium sized transports escorted by a squadron UNSC patrol cutters.

      It had been over a week since the lieutenant had seen his home, that wasn't to say that it was a long time, most crewmen on a warship saw Earth fewer then once every two or three months. As an ONI officer his job was centralized to a great extent and he only strayed from the green and blue bulb every so often.

       "Lock in an approach to Bravo station," Richmond instructed the shipboard AI. The craft shifted its orientation slightly and aimed for a direct course to the docking ring.

      The lieutenant's craft passed by Jersey station which held a geosynchronous orbit over the tiny island in the channel on the edge of the continental European Union. The docking ring was only two thousand kilometers away when Richmond sent out his access codes and requested permission to dock. The bay doors on the station groaned silently open to allow the sleek vessel within. The prowler decelerated until it came to a hovering stop ten meters inside the ring. A pair of strong docking clamps lowered down and secured the vessel in place. As soon as he felt the clamps jolt the vessel Richmond deactivated the prowler's engines entirely. A few moments later a message appeared at his console informing him that the atmosphere within the bay had been reintroduced; it was safe to leave the craft. The ONI officer opened the hatch, and transferred both his work and the AI out of the ship's systems for transport. Both were important and if he lost either his bosses would have his head.

      A pair of dock workers went into the bay just as the lieutenant left to start servicing the ONI craft meanwhile Richmond took a stroll into the inner concourse. There were a large number of military personnel in the unmistakable UNSC uniforms but civilians wandered the decks as well. Before the war only a handful of orbital facilities like the docking rings served the military but the United Nations' Mobilization Act had changed a great deal throughout human controlled space. Almost every single thing the military could get their hands on was confiscated or on "loan" from corporations and organizations. Bravo station still operated with civilian craft on a normal day to day basis but the moment the UNSC needed it entirely they would have it. It was a consequence of war, but after almost three decades most people had gotten used to it.

      The lieutenant approached one of the shuttle departure consoles, he followed the screen's instructions, inputting his destination and basic information but when it came to payment he pulled out his ONI credentials and scanned them in. Another perk of his position gave him a transportation account through the military. It was supposed to be strictly for official ONI business but like everyone else he took a trip every now and then from the UNSC.

      The first shuttle wouldn't leave for another twenty minutes so Richmond had a moment to relax and stretch out. He took a seat in the departures waiting area and pulled an information monitor out. The small screen was twenty centimeters across the diagonal and folded out of the armrest of the seat. It gave news, weather, even the scores from the previous day from across the galaxy. A bulletin flashed across the miniature screen reading: Covenant Armada Obliterated in the Sirius Alpha System. Richmond smiled to himself. His colleagues in section two must have jumped on that story like there was no tomorrow; even with the incredible victory it was, ONI would find one way or another to embellish the win. Even Richmond could agree though to a naïve young man or woman seeing that story would erase the fear caused by the fall of Reach. Section two tried their best to avoid putting the news into the hands of the civilian population and when at last it was revealed the Covenant invasion force was overstated as close to one thousand vessels, and UNSC losses reduced to only half the actual number. The Battle of Reach was portrayed a valiant but impossible conflict to win, such as it was, but it wouldn't be human to leave it at that. The news told tales of sacrifice and bravery against certain death, inflicting tens if not hundreds of thousands of casualties against the enemy. Making the Covenant regret the attempt; even if they did succeed it was a costly victory. Richmond could read through the lines, he'd seen the Covenant in action. They didn't fear humanity, and whatever vessels the fleet and the Super MACs did manage to destroy only served to enrage the enemy all the more. If Earth was to win the war it would come from defeating every last Covenant. The complete extermination of every race within their religious conglomerate was the only way to win, because the Covenant intended the same fate for humanity.

0850 Hours, October 6, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Fleet Command (FLEETCOM) Facility Alpha-7, Lisbon, European Union

      The conference room was sound proof and its walls contained electronic scramblers for both video and audio surveillance. In the middle was a long rectangular table surrounded by ten high-backed chairs. For a moment the room was dark and silent that was until seven men and women entered through the room's double doors. They all wore the dark grey uniforms of UNSC naval officers but there wasn't any one among them which did not wear the silver six-edged star of a commodore or an admiral's golden stars. They were the United Nations Space Command Naval Operations Committee or the NOC. With the exception of the Admiralty itself there was no other body which commanded or oversaw such an enormous portion of the fleet. The supervision of the fleet and most naval actions were their primary responsibility and none of them took it lightly. Around the room there were hundreds of years of experience as one could tell from the aged faces. The youngest of them all was the thirty-nine year old Commodore Patrick Hall a recent addition to the committee after two officers were lost in Olympic Tower when Reach fell.

      The center light came on and illuminated the room. "Good morning everyone," Admiral Santiago Cruz declared. "We shall begin this session of the Naval Operations Committee. I'll let Admiral Gerov present the fleet report. Sergei if you please." The older admiral and chair of the committee turned to his colleague and sat down.

      The Vice Admiral rose and rubbed the grey stubble that coated his chin, like Commodore Hall he was a recent addition to the committee. He cleared his throat and punched a series of commands into the keypad near his seat. The top of the table across almost the entire surface then began to part and revealed a screen below it. The mechanical humming continued until almost the entire table had turned to a giant monitor.

      "I think most of you will be quite familiar with the report since we are all aware that the conflict has achieved a certain status quo," Gerov announced with his thick accent. Then he pressed another key and the screen on the table turned from black to display a star map, more precisely a map of UNSC space. "This data is as of 0900 today, and will be updated throughout this meeting, I've taken the liberty to bring along Arthur one of FLEETCOM Operations Division's AIs to provide a detailed briefing as well." Then a holographic figure just under three feet tall rose from the table and took the form of a medieval king. It didn't speak yet; it was content to wait for the Admiral to finish and only floated an inch above the screen in silence. Gerov returned his listeners' attention to the star map. "The Fourth and Seventh fleets are currently engaged separately in two operational theatres against Covenant forces. As ordered the Eleventh and Ninth has pulled back and have begun to disband to perform convoy and patrol duties in the Inner Colonies. In preparation of Operation Interruption the Fifth Fleet together with elements of the Second are en-route to the Alpha Centuri System to take on personnel and supplies. In accordance with Admiral Harper's request two Argonaut-class destroyers and six new Falcon-class frigates have been transferred to the Home Fleet from the Tenth. Two Dreadnaught-class light cruisers have been ordered refitted and out from the mothballs and transferred to Admiral Al-Kaman to replace his losses. The other fleet movement worth mentioning is the combination of four Renaissance and Falcon-class frigates from the Fifteenth moving towards the Sirius System under operational command of Task Force Winter."

      "I have a question about Task Force Winter and the forces in the Sirius System," Rear Admiral Jessica Elder declared, she oversaw all UNSC operations in Sector Four, which contained eight colonized human worlds and bordered the space that contained the Sirius System. She was concerned about spill-over into her command which was already in jeopardy since a Covenant fleet arrived two weeks earlier. "With the exception of ONI's wonderful reporting I haven't heard anything about the conflict."

      Admiral Gerov took the question directly, although he did not operate that sector he was well enough versed in the skirmish to answer. "At approximately 0830 October 2nd destroyers Isaac Brock and Prophet Muhammad engaged and destroyed a Covenant cruiser and a Marathon-class cruiser UNSC Confidence thought lost was recovered when her captain arrived in system. Arthur do we have an image?" The AI streamed with calculations for a split second then a model of the Confidence appeared beside it in the damaged state it had been when it entered UNSC space. "Admiral Kruger, FLEETCOM Sector Three Commander, dispatched an additional seven vessels and successfully UNSC forces destroyed six Covenant vessels sent as reinforcements. The destroyer Horn and frigate Huron were destroyed and the frigate Waterloo suffered extensive damage to its superstructure and could not be salvaged and had to be broken apart. Arthur have there been any readings from of any of the nearby remote sensor stations?"

      The AI turned to the admiral and quickly confirmed the question taking less than a millisecond. "No contact or readings of any inbound Covenant vessels detected." That was enough to convince the brass in that room although the situation still carried an inherent risk, the Covenant would return but how to deal with the situation would require finesse.

      "Task Force Winter consists of two modern cruisers, a Mystic-class carrier, a destroyer and frigate and three corvettes currently with the additional vessels I mentioned expected within the day. Kruger believes this is a sufficient force for the Sirius System," Gerov concluded.

      "Nine capital ships and three corvettes to hold a system is a little unreasonable to expect from our forces despite those two small victories," Rear Admiral Markannen declared. "There are no facilities to support the force in the system. How can a force that small expect to maintain a firm position in an isolated system?"

      "Reserving even twelve vessels for a world of only three million without any military facilities of mention is a considerable demand. I think this committee should reevaluate Kruger's stance. Nine capital ships could very well turn the tide if the Covenant chooses to attack Alpha Centuri rather then the Sirius System again," Admiral Otaro recommended. He was one of the most conservative minded individuals there, mostly because he was a former sector commander, that was until the Covenant glassed every single human populated world in that region of space. "A few well defended strongholds can withstand Covenant attacks, Stanforth proved that at Sigma Octanus."

      "I think you meant to say the admiral was lucky," Cruz interjected. "In the dozens of engagements we've had with the Covenant on that scale only Harvest and Sigma Octanus worked in our favor. Those aren't odds I'm very comfortable with not with Reach gone. We have all seen ONI's estimates, even with every yard operating at 110 percent and an operational fleet they only give us seven or eight weeks."

      "The Earth Defense Grid is almost complete though, three hundred Super MACs, even the Covenant armada at Reach could not withstand a barrage like that for very long," the younger Hall spoke up for the first time.

      "We can't rely on the orbital stations for all the support," Gerov cautioned. "A single torpedo can destroy the whole station or the enemy can still make the same maneuver past them to destroy the fusion generators planet side."

      "What about battle plating?" Otaro questioned. "If they were reinforced with a meter or so of battle plate that could offer greater projection against enemy salvos."

      "The linear accelerator would still be vulnerable, and without that the station is useless in any event," Markannen pointed out.

      "Gentlemen please," Cruz rose to say. "The engineers have done everything possible; it's not our job to worry about design procedures. We have seventeen battle fleets and a merchant marine under our operational jurisdiction; I suggest we look to them first. Admiral Gerov please continue."

      The Vice Admiral looked to the star map, and directed his listener's attention to the display. "Arthur if you please," Gerov said and then just over a dozen stars were highlighted. "Each of these systems are currently under patrol by fleet elements, and maintain UNSC facilities for refit or repair of capital vessels." He gave a nod to the AI and the map highlighted a new set of stars, this time far fewer in number. "These are the number of systems which possess operational ship yards. As you can see, we can stop the bleeding but quickly we'll run out of ships to patch up."

      The response from the committee was silence; they all took a moment to appreciate the gravity of the situation. They could only operate a fleet that was in being, vessels were lost faster then they could be built which meant sooner or later they would run a deficit. That meant the end. Elder spoke up first. "Perhaps Admiral Otaro was correct in that we should mass our forces and protect these key facilities for as long as possible."

      "And let them go down in history as another Reach?" The until up to then silent Commodore O'Hara asked negatively. "We can't possibly jeopardize our stance now by concentrating all fleets to a handful of key systems or even Sol for that matter can we?"

      "The Covenant know where Earth is!" Otaro exclaimed. "In the end what can the Inner Colonies do if Earth falls? Once we lose this planet we lose everything. The entire government will fall apart, all the administration, currency, trade, gone. If there is a stand to make it has to be here not at a ship yard." The admiral's words excited the entire committee. They were all on edge and only met from their normal duties once or twice a week which meant it was all the more heated when they were together. Arthur the AI simply waited, processed and followed the conversations. To it the argument truly was an eternity.

On the Home Front Part 2
Date: 17 September 2006, 8:54 pm

      Flames erupted from the left side of the bridge. The force of the explosion threw debris through the air and across the room. Captain Roger Thorne pulled himself back into the command chair and tightened the restraints; the gravity-free environment and battle would toss him about like a rag doll otherwise.
      "Status?" He demanded breathlessly.
      "Pulse laser impacts on the forward armor," the ops officer declared.
      The TAC display was alive with activity and the thermal sensors were off the charts. Outside the solid Titanium-A exterior of the cruiser rocket exhaust, pulse lasers, MAC rounds, plasma torpedoes, Seraphs and Longswords filled the void. The battle had gone from ordered lines to a fierce melee with dozens of capital ships locked in deadly combat.
      Another explosion rocked the vessel and shook the captain from contemplation, his vessel couldn't take more abuse, certainly not if the crew was to make it out of the system in one piece. The ship's AI was disabled and life support had been ruptured on three different decks not to mention the damage to the armor and superstructure. The Fearless was running quickly out of luck.
      "Launch forward Archer missiles - target enemy cruiser G," Thorne ordered. "Then bring the MACs to bear and fire when ready."
      Dozens of high explosive missiles rocketed from their pods and charged towards the enemy capital ship. A UNSC cruiser ten kilometers to port of the Fearless burst when pulse lasers struck her reactor and the debris was sent flying through the vacuum.
      Thorne felt the shockwave only a split second after the Bonaventure disappeared from the TAC display. There were only fourteen of them left, he counted bitterly and the Covenant had almost twice that number engaged. On the forward viewscreen the enemy cruiser came into full view and a second later Thorne felt the vibrations as the MAC rounds accelerated from the dorsal side of the vessel and then appeared on the viewscreen as twin bolts of lightning. The Covenant cruiser adjusted course to evade but could only avoid one of the fast moving projectiles. The other struck the vessel aft, its shields lit up brilliant silver as the kinetic energy of the MAC round drained its power until the protective barrier gave its last breath and then disappeared just as the slug's momentum was exhausted.
      "Emergency thrusters to port!" Thorne ordered his navigation officer in a fit of adrenaline. "Take us around. Guns, aft pods!"
      "Aye sir," the bridge officers replied.
      The Fearless jolted sideways as the enemy fired a blaze of blue pulse lasers in reply to the attack they had just suffered. The armor breached along the UNSC cruiser's starboard side at several places and atmosphere began to vent before the sections could be sealed.
      "Enemy plasma torpedoes charging sir," the weapons officer announced.
      The captain clinched his teeth in anticipation counting the moments in his rapid breaths. "Aft camera," he commanded. For a second it displayed the utter confusion of the conflict as in the close proximity of battle two Covenant ships collided, the larger of the two, a cruiser rammed the ventral side of a small frigate and broke the vessel in two with its momentum. The camera then centered on the enemy cruiser they were engaging with flashes of blue light still coming from its hull. "Fire!"
      This time an overwhelming swarm of guided missiles came surging, just under a hundred in total all towards the Covenant cruiser with its hopefully still downed shields. Thorne literally crossed his fingers as he watched the explosives track their slower moving target. In the meantime the unmistakable flares of red growing on the vessel's side approached critical levels.
      "Reactor status critical, the coolant is at dangerous levels," the ops officer announced with grave concern. "We have to reduce power or risk a breach sir!"
      "Belay that! Divert all available power to the MACs," the emotional Aussie ordered without losing sight of the viewscreen.
      The vessel was then struck by simultaneously barrages of pulse lasers from both the aft and ventral vectors. Thorne glanced at the TAC display to get his bearings; Covenant cruiser L was engaging them as well. Two against one wasn't the best odds at that moment, the captain considered gravely. Back to the viewscreen the missiles closed on target but the torpedoes correlated to critical and were like tigers only steps away from pouncing.
      Dozens of spots along the enemy hull lit up with orange and red flares tearing away at the meters of unnaturally colored Covenant battle armor. The enemy shrugged off the damage for they really were only gashes that the Fearless delivered. However the Covenant prepared to deliver a lethal payload as a trio of red bulbs of plasma coursed from their vessel and towards the Dreadnaught-class cruiser.
      "Evasive maneuvers," Thorne demanded in frustration.
      "Impact in twenty-nine seconds sir."
      With tightened grips the UNSC captain watched his potential demise approach. The enemy cruiser that had launched the torpedoes in the meantime adjusted course and began to move forward and turn to pursue the torpedoes and the Fearless. Before it could complete the maneuver an unseen pair of MAC rounds trailed by a score of Archer missiles struck. Two angry lances tore straight through the Covenant cruiser along a downward vector at an angle destroying over a hundred meters through the ship. The missiles that followed blossomed along the armor and within it. For eight seconds the cruiser was motionless but held together until finally it erupted from aft and sent almost half of its superstructure flying in the opposite direction. The torpedoes that pursued the Fearless dissipated and the UNSC cruiser Sri Lanka darted through the debris where there once was an enemy vessel.
      "Looks as though we owe Captain Martino a favor," Thorne announced with sigh of relief. "Bring us in line with cruiser L and fire MACs when ready."
      "Aye aye sir," came the reply from the navigation station.
      The viewscreen now displayed their new target though the vessel wasn't yet orientated against it. Pulse lasers still burst from all along its hull towards the Fearless which sent nothing in reply, Thorne was waiting until he had his big guns ready and aimed. The enemy shields were still up obviously shown by the occasional silver flash as heavy weapons from Longswords and stray fire hit against them.
      The Fearless was suddenly shook by an enormous explosion along its hull that could be felt almost full strength on the bridge.
      "Missile pods C and E destroyed sir," announced the weapons officer trying to remain calm but even Thorne had to steady himself against the urge to order the retreat from the confusion that was supposed to be a battle.
      "MAC status?" the captain wanted to know instead.
      "Seventy-eight percent, charging at one percent per second sir," came the reply.
      Twenty-two seconds of hell in the meantime, he thought. The display was alive as ever, but only two thirds of the capital ships that had been active ten minutes earlier were still there. Then animated marker representing the Sri Lanka vanished from the display. Thorne cursed the event under his breath, but could not dwell on it. He searched the display for the fleet's flagship and found it a second later, readings still came from it and it moved without pause thankfully. The UNSC Courage of Humanity was the most powerful cruiser they had at the battle, she was a new Zulu-class and only been completed two months previous.
      "Captain, system failures in engineering, we're losing power!" His operations officer announced in a panic.
      "Bloody hell! Pump in the reserve coolant and push the reactors to one-hundred and twenty," Thorne ordered. "Power down every non-essential system in this hulk."
      "MACs charged and firing," the weapons officer declared, and within a moment the two projectiles were seen streaking towards the enemy cruiser.
      Then the whole cruiser rolled to port under the stress of a plasma torpedo as it gouged into the cruiser's hull. The entire vessel became an oven as the superheated ions melted away battle and deck plate alike. Thorne knew instantly what he had been struck with and despite the vessel's size he knew even one torpedo could be a mortal blow.
      "Decompress all affected decks and sections!" The captain ordered vigilantly as the restraints from his chair dug into his stomach making breathing even difficult.
      "Sir the crew," the ops officer asked shakily.
      "Now lieutenant," Thorne reinforced. "We're all dead if that plasma isn't extinguished."
      The lieutenant did as he was told but that still did not bring back the huge crater that existed in the starboard side where five whole decks had been burned through over half way up four sections. The viewscreen was still on and Thorne could see that the cruiser they were engaging was only charging torpedoes at that moment so there was another enemy out there targeting them or they'd been hit by a stray shot. Either answer satisfied the captain at that time, he was more interested in the cruiser they had in their sights. Now stabilized on course the Fearless continued towards their target.
      "Prepare another pair of MAC rounds," Thorne ordered getting himself off the deck plating.
      "The main cannons aren't answering sir," weapons replied in concern.
      "Fire anything then, everything. Fire everything we have left," the captain demanded.
      "Sir missiles won't penetrate, she's still got her shields up from the first MAC barrage," his weapon's officer answered back.
      "I don't care about their bloody shields, enough fire power and they'll go down. Use the point defense system and pepper it with fifty-millimeters if you have to but don't stop firing! Send a fleet broadcast request every available fighter attack the target."
      The bridge officers urged on by the conviction of their captain went to work, and the Fearless opened fire. Tracer rounds from the fifty-millimeter cannons darted through space together with Archer missiles and at least a few Longswords picked up on their hail as the wedge-shaped fighters weaved in close and dropped their payloads on the beleaguered Covenant cruiser. The shields held until almost the last missile struck then it collapsed under the combined stress of everything that had been propelled against it. Some ten missiles made it through and blew through the armor that protected the superstructure but it remained in the fight.
      "Pull us away from her and sent out a message to all ship marking that target as shields down, we'll have to let someone else take her out," the captain declared almost with a tone of disappointment as his cruiser retreated back away from the enemy.
      Even while only operating a minimally effective point defense against enemy fighters while avoiding head on battles with capital ships the Fearless continued to shake from pulse lasers evaporating areas of Titanium-A battle plate.
      "Captain, there's a priority message to the fleet from the Courage of Humanity."
      "Put it on," Thorne said exhausted.
      A moment later the weathered and bloodied face of Fleet Admiral Preston Cole appeared on the screen. "All remaining UNSC vessels I'm issuing an ordered retreat. Meet at rally point Omega and concentrate all your fire on enemy vessels in that space. Do not engage your pursuers," the fleet commander declared. "Good luck captains." A marker on the tactical display repeatedly flashed and Thorne didn't even have to order his navigation officer to set course, the Fearless was heading to the rally point immediately as soon as the order came through.
      Two Covenant vessels stood their ground in the space around the rally point only to come under fire from every single UNSC vessel in the system. The rest of the enemy forces immediately regrouped as opposed to pursuing the massed human fleet. It would not have been much of a pursuit since the distance between the rally point and the bulk of the Covenant fleet was just over two hundred and fifty thousand kilometers but after the melee of moments earlier they might have been in different systems. The numbers were heavy on the side of the Covenant, seventeen mixed capital ships almost entirely destroyers and cruisers against eight remaining UNSC Dreadnaught-class cruisers and Admiral Cole's flagship.
      "All vessels report status and prepare randomized exit vectors," Cole boomed through the bridge speakers of every vessel in the fleet.
      At the same time Bumblebee life pods and Longswords retreated from the middle of the debris field of the battle to the rally point not wanting to be left behind. A few of more ambitious Covenant vessels opened fire on those smaller ships but most prepared their salvos of plasma torpedoes for a final bombardment. All of the UNSC fleet waited in order, the remains of their battle fleet, which had once been twenty-three cruisers and eight smaller warships.
      The admiral having received the confirmations from every vessel went back on the channel. "Republic and Mongol make your jumps, Midway and Nigeria stand-by and await Beta and Sierra squadrons to get onboard then fall out." The two cruisers having received the order darted out of the system in an instant, three Covenant ships altered course and prepared to pursue, but Cole had anticipated that. "Open fire, target those ships in pursuit."
      The combined salvo of the seven remaining cruisers was only ten MAC rounds and just over a hundred Archer missiles but it was enough of a threat that the Covenant vessels broke formation to begin evasive maneuvers and the three attempting to make pursuit were stalled. Just as the MAC rounds reached the Covenant fleet the second group of cruisers fled the system.
      "Justice you're next get those Bumblebees in hold then jump. Everyone else maintain fire, we have to hold out," Cole said over the channel. Thorne grew anxious from his bridge, the shock of the first salvo had worn off the enemy and they were moving in closer and the red motes growing from the sides of their vessels looking all the more dangerous.
      "You heard the admiral," he told his weapons officer. "Spend every last fifty round we have and launch the rear Archers as well." They had to make a stand for as long possible to make it out. "What's the status of the slipspace drive?"
      "Sixty percent and climbing sir."
      The Justice jumped out a moment later leaving only the Fearless, Manchuria, Stockholm and Cole's flagship. The tension had boiled to the same extend as the enemy plasma, and both were on the verge of release. Thorne's fists were clinched viewing the screen in front of him. He had at least another minute before they could jump but the torpedoes would reach them well before that point. In the docking bays new arrivals in Pelicans and Bumblebees entered the three Dreadnaught-class cruisers to make the jump as well, the last ones to make it out.
      "Hold onto your hats everyone," Cole's voiced echoed over the speakers. "Transfer everything left to your slipspace drives and exit when ready. Cole out."
      Thorne nodded to the lieutenant at operations to follow the command, the drive was at eighty percent when the torpedoes launched. Over fifty individual flames of red shining against the black of space and the destroyed metal hulks that remained in the floating junkyard of a battlefield. They moved towards the four UNSC vessels aligned now in line across.
      "Impact in twenty seconds sir!" The weapons officer exclaimed. "We're not going to make it out in time."
      Thorne froze, the admiral had to know that, he knew all their situations, the only reason the Stockholm and Manchuria were still there was because they were also slow charging their slipspace drives and accelerating out.
      "Impact in fourteen seconds."
      "Hold steady captains," Cole's voice came through. "Make your jumps and get out of here. I'll hold the line here. Earth needs you. Fight for her!"
      The Courage of Humanity engaged its main thrusters and moved out of the line. Shock took command over Thorne and he froze in his seat in front of the viewscreen. He was far too preoccupied to speak. Admiral Cole's cruiser fired a pair of MAC rounds at the enemy and a compliment of missiles streaking towards the plasma. In a brilliant flash two Shiva warheads exploded and a white light consumed the entire area around the Covenant fleet. The Courage of Humanity used its emergency thrusters and turned to face its entire starboard side to the enemy barrage. Of the over fifty torpedoes that started the journey just under that number remained, the others had dissipated when the vessels that launched them were disabled or destroyed by Cole's last attack.
      It was with seventeen seconds left to full slipspace drive power that the first torpedo was seen striking Cole's ship from onboard the Fearless's bridge. Thorne watched in wonder for those were the longest seventeen seconds of his life. The Courage of Humanity lurched over from the impacts along its over kilometer long hull. Red light encapsulated the entire vessel burning through every single piece of Titanium-A on it. The ship shrouded the three others behind it, taking every impact until finally the cruiser broke apart into five separate pieces each over a hundred meters in length. The admiral had shut down the reactor at the last moment to prevent a breach and prevent a nuclear explosion. There were no life pods or ships to retrieve, little did they know at the time that Cole had already done his best to evacuate as many as possible in the last life pods and transports, still there were far too many good men and women that died onboard. Torpedoes at the tail end of barrage continued on course, some collided with the cruiser's debris but others kept going. The Manchuria jumped out first and made it clear, the Stockholm two seconds later then at last the Fearless. Thorne's last sight before the viewscreen went dark was the image of Cole's flagship in millions of small pieces together with almost two dozen other UNSC wrecks.

      Thorne awoke in a sweat; sitting entirely vertical in bed he looked around in the darkness to try and get his bearings. He panting and could barely focus. He ran his hands through his graying hair while he caught his breath. The nightmares didn't get better whether he was on ship or safely on the ground. It was not always the same one, but as a veteran of two full campaigns and twelve different engagements with Covenant naval forces there were a lot of bad memories to draw from. The admiral looked over to the clock at the bedside; it was two o'clock in the morning local. He had a meeting in less then eight hours on a different continent. The now rear-admiral took a deep slow breath and laid back down hoping to put dreams aside and just get some restful sleep.

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