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Inside the spacious cockpit of Savior class Fighter/Bomber Goblin-036 Jaeden shook for the hundredth time in the last two hours. Reading recently gathered intelligence on exactly what these races had speculated about them was odd. Some believed them robotic constructs; others believed them to be gods, wise and benevolent. Nothing could be closer to farther from the truth. In reality, they were simply mortals like everyone else. The Halos had been a combined effort by all Forerunners after their unification. The greatest minds that could possibly be found had banded together and created the pinnacle of their race's developments. But then again, he was getting off his proper mindset. He had a mission to accomplish and he'd be damned if he'd allow sloppily done flight-work. Even with the shakes.
He keyed the intercom that tapped him into his flight wing and issued his thoughts aloud. "Alright gentleman, we're the spearhead in this maneuver. You know what to do."

There, that was easy. He kept a careful eye on his monitors as the wing arrayed itself and backed into precision formation, a claw. Again his thoughts trailed. Syidu's plan had been quite brilliant really. It called for just under eight fighter/bombers, and the Burning Eternal. He was going to have to see how it turned out. Regardless, he still couldn't outrun one overwhelming memory.
When he recalled showing his friend a picture of his object of desire, all he had seen was a blank face. Blank eyes. Blank voice. Blank posture. Blank...
Was that what this was all about? The picture?

No. That wasn't right. He'd shot Carab and he was thinking of the grand scheme of things... how cold could he be?

As cold as Syidu was... never.

Jaeden banished the wayward thoughts from his mind as multiple contacts boiled into life on his screens, weapons fully charged. They knew he was coming. Time to go to work. "This is Goblin-036. Multiple contacts ahead, over twenty capitol ships. Shields are up, weapons charged and ready to swat us off. Let's show them how it's done."
Multiple acknowledgements echoed throughout the dim nebula of his cockpit. His eyes wild, his adrenaline spiking, internally he was well. He was passive and calm. Acting off logic and instinct. The warrior could feel that his muscles were tense, feel that every cell was working in perfect routine. His heart was the foreseen beat. His blood circulation a magnum opus unto itself, his eyes, every predator conceived and tripled ten times over.
He swiped his hand across the acceleration control, and his steed of battle, his Savior, shot full speed for the closest Destroyer.


Doomharrow Destroyer Crimson Snows,
In orbit around Halo Installation,
Bridge

Ship Master Nissa 'Naranee pressed on his hand with some disdain, immediately feeling all too classic, sharp and searing pain. Shaking his head to relieve some tenseness from his body, he dared to look.
Green burn marks gouged its once smooth surface, ringed by ugly blue cracks. Prophet Levi-Nu' Nash had said this was a bad omen when he'd gone to the medical bay to have it treated. Levi had notably commented about the smell, too. He pushed the past aside and counted on the present.
Plasma swords were dangerous; he knew that. That was exactly why he trained with live opponents, and live blades. Allowing one to get so close to his hand was indicative that he was beginning to waver in his skill. It was obvious that any weapon, no matter it's wielder, could stab back given the right opportunity, because like a pawn, weapons did not like being used.
Which was why the Doomharrow had rebelled, had struck back against their mainstream brethren! Already sensors had detected a large mainstream fleet near the formerly human colony of 'Summer!'
They should have been heading there- not wasting time doing an archeological dig in some ancient relic...

"My Lord Nissa." An intejii navigator remarked. "There is... something..."
"Untie your tongue, creature and speak to me!" He snapped.
"Something... coming. It's headed straight t- toward us..."

The Crimson Snows shuddered once, her hull supports straining under unknown impact.
Little did tough, crusty old Nissa 'Naranee know, Levi-Nu' Nash had been right.


Jaeden snarled- an owl on prowl'd ground- He didn't bother to relay what he was doing, everyone had orders to maintain radio silence until after the attack was finished. Contemplating which vessel they would assault next, he watched in dark fascination as his previous target blossomed with tiny pinpricks of light, sub-molecular explosions.
His own attack broke away and shattered a Seraph assault craft like cheap glass.
Meanwhile, Crimson Snows, mighty warship of the Doomharrow fleets, imploded in on itself, core going critical and blasting matter in every direction, not to mention massive, jagged and very sharp sections of hull which had sizzled and shrugged off moments before. The push of a near-impenetrable wall of particles, combined with that speed, proved enough to accelerate-

Veer straight passed the dodging capitol ship Jaeden thought it would just barely glance-

And gut the neighboring Battleship (whose shields had previously been disabled by the Burning Eternal, now moving in-system) from port to starboard. He let out an involuntary, excited laugh. "Eat that!"

Syidu's calm, grim voice broke his maniacal rant. He wasn't talking directly to him, Jaeden knew it was over the all hands frequency, nonetheless each word was a personal rebuke for his mild outburst. He drove his Savior into a steep dive, sliding between two confused looking Destroyers.
"Goblins, this is Syidu; delta-tango maneuver." He heard the communications devices crackle.

Without hesitation those with him formed into a widely spaced triangle, and unanimously selected one enemy ship. They armed weapons. The Destroyer armed it's own weapons, blue-green light collecting along it's lateral lines. Massive power buildups... they were going to vaporize him and his wing with one shot!

On perfect cue, two of seven Savior Fighter/Bombers disappeared; lacking the time to scream as plasma torpedoes redecorated their chassis and finally evaporated them. He heard someone swear. Never once did they pause, No mercy, no remorse. Jaeden slammed his clenched fist down. Missiles danced off from some underside launcher he couldn't see.
The alien fleet was marshalling itself in every possible direction as his craft rolled away. Too late to counter, too blind to bother not to follow Syidu's order, his remaining comrades were melted down into molten slag. He didn't dwell on them. There was time for that later. They'd understand.
Jaeden allowed his eyes to narrow.
From their previous confusion, the aliens were operating in tactical genius. The Burning Eternal eased into view, hull blinking in and out. Syidu had ordered them to employ standard weaponry. Jaeden felt- no he knew it wasn't going to work. The alien's shields had just fluttered on, and the ships themselves were forming into a phalanx.

His control panels relaxed a text message scrolling onto his HUD.

"What the... hell?" Syidu was receiving it too.
"Jaeden, heads-up! Contact coming your way, it's going to blindside you!" Legally Syidu had broken communications protocols to relay that message. He didn't care. His monitors flicked on just as he pressed hard right, sending the craft into a barrel roll, narrowly evading the plasma torpedo, which would have gutted him had he kept to his previous flight path. The proximity detonators inside it snapped to life, spraying plasma in the most likely direction he'd taken. His shields absorbed most, leaving whatever was left to float serenely away.

His tailing enemy exploded, the redirected vapor scoring a 'friendly fire' kill. Jaeden chuckled, and released the safeties on his pre-fitted nuclear round. He'd given one dead comrade his revenge; now it was time to give the rest of them peace.

The alien phalanx formation arranged itself once again, plainly ignoring him, and discharged its main weapons in a one hundred-gunner salute, plasma sailing toward the Burning Eternal in a seemingly inescapable deathtrap.

Jaeden could hear the tremendous explosion. Seven alien warships disappeared. Another group of cruise missiles had arrived. Alien ordinance still banked toward him, like holiday tree ornaments. He supposed such displays were oddly pretty. He triggered a firing mechanism and waited for the vapor trail to appear. Nothing came.

He hit tapped the appropriate symbol once again, causing the missile to launch-

All but two centimeters, and remain in place. "Maximus, why won't my nuke work?" His voice remained calm, despite an obvious tension he felt. Artificial resonance sounded off inside his head with computerized efficiency.

"You've forgotten to pressurize tube number three, Jaeden."
"Oh." He was getting way too high on adrenaline if he was forgetting simple procedure; but then again he wasn't good at utilizing aircraft. He was satisfactory... in an 'I cheated on the tests' sort of way. He was good at killing things by hand, however.
"If you like, I can do it for you."
"Yes, I'd like that." He was somewhat hesitant at first, but when he visualized his craft being liquefied with him still inside...

"Tube three pressurized, Jaeden. Feel free to launch now, may I suggest you do so quickly; plasma impact imminent."

"Gladly." Jaeden rammed his thumbs down. The nuke didn't launch. "Maximus it's not-

"It appears someone has tampered with this vehicle, it can be-

He cut the AI short; figuring it would ramble for hours, should such an act be deemed possible. The plasma was so bright, so eye-consuming. So damnably painful! Jaeden knew what to do with pain. "Maximus, time to threat impact!"

"Eleven, ten-

Two anti-matter coated rounds spread spider-web patterns into the multi-alloy window.

-Seven, Six..."

Jaeden couldn't remember when he'd last practiced Zero Gravity movement, but it was better than this. Using what frenzied co-ordination he still had, Jaeden snapped the safety hardness off and dove not away from but TOWARD the incoming fire, straight through the craft's previously weakened canopy.

Glassy fragments showered his body as his suit's capabilities compensated for what extremes it could, allowing no fault. In moments his body had begun to sweat it's fullest when a pulse laser bolt passed within one meter.
"Two, one." Maximus finished his count. The Savior exploded.

There were two things he immediately discovered. Firstly he noted a very large, very angry looking biped speeding toward him, thruster-pack in hand. Secondly, he noted how damn well impossible it was to stop his momentum. Luckily they collided.
He didn't sense what was coming; the inertia was too much. He was moving, yet his muscles were doing absolutely nothing. His gut was reaching at his throat and eating his vocal chords. Impulsively he began to groan. Taking its opportunity his adversary hammered a muscled elbow into his chin and spiked a knee into his crotch.
He curled up into a fetal position, unwilling to accept his fate. Things weren't supposed to happen like this. He couldn't breath, he couldn't think!

Think think, think...

"I'm going to die." He muttered more off instinct then anything else.
His adversary, a Torra (an elite!), he realized, let loose a throaty howl. "I'm going to fucking die!" He screamed back, uncurling and pumping two rounds into hard vacuum. Recognizing a danger when it saw one, the Torra clamped a clawed hand over Jaeden's fingers, locking them to the trigger. A third round hurled itself away.

While its attention focused itself elsewhere, he shoved his free hand into the back of the alien's suit and pulled. He could hear a sound suspiciously like 'huh?' before the thruster pack activated once again and sent them head-over-heels toward the ring world.
Unable to control itself, the Torra flailed about just as Jaeden did. His however, was much more controlled. Two straps tore free, and the enemy tumbled from view with a silent scream. He held tightly to his chest the thruster pack, and deactivated it, simply coasting to conserve fuel. Double-checking his gear, he discovered his communications devices and beacons were down. As far as Syidu was concerned, he was dead.

He paused. "Do something useful, any way out of this mess?" Jaeden felt himself both blinking back tears and straining to keep his jaw in place. His suit was sealed against most hazards, yes, but it certainly wasn't treated to withstand physical blows. His air was probably running out too.
"Covenant transport vessel detected." Maximus spoke quietly.

He angled his head toward it, eyes flashing in determination. Its vector was about right. Not yet, but soon. Very soon indeed... "Maximus, how much power would we need to hit that ship at just the right angle and catch a hold?"

"Full thrust should do it." He replied knowingly. "How are we going to survive re-entry?"
"I hadn't thought of that yet. Countdown to most appropriate time of activation?"

Maximus responded in seconds, after a brief period of mathematical calculations. "Twenty nine, twenty eight, twenty seven..." Jaeden caught hold of the activation switch, and depressed it.




Like hell on wheels, he, perhaps they, were propelled toward their possible safety, Jaeden hanging on in a death-grip, refusing to relent in this final, rather insane mission. Maximus had seen fit to remain silent, much to his relief. If only he could grab it...
His hand touched the black expanses of space, feeling nothing, held in place by steadily failing joints. Flashbacks and stars shot across his vision, causing him to rely on instinct alone. The smooth, utterly featureless hull flowed like water beneath grasping fingers. Suddenly his hand caught something.
Safe! - His mind whooped.
Muscles tore, a shoulder dislocated, and still the Forerunner was in rapture. Safety!
He lost his grip-

-and caught a hold on the door of the Covenant Shadow jammed inside several gravity beams. The press of some type of force felt good. Agile as a goldfish, fueled by adrenaline, he slipped in, falling into the seats and slamming the door shut.
All audio he could hear... the steadily throbbing crescendo of his heart. The bloodshot tendrils of his eyes; and lungs gasping for breath that simply wasn't there. The Shadow's air recycling equipment skipped in, pressing fresh oxygen into his world. He could breath again. It was not to be. Bile worked its way into his throat, and he had no choice but to spew it on deck.
"Jaeden does this help?" Maximus sounded unsure.
"If this thing can survive re-entry," He began, coughing still. "So can we."

Their world once again in place, Forerunner and Artificial Intelligence watched Halo beckon them closer.

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