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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.

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