Draknal: Ah, here we are for another installment of FTF. Finals made things a bit difficult as far as updating, but I managed to work it all out. I hope you all enjoy this latest chapter I’ve been working on!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Halo or its characters, just the plot of this story and the characters I make up.

Objective Sighted

“Making final preparations for landing, this is your two minute warning!” called the pilot of the lead Pelican.

Looking around the troop compartment of the human vessel, Lieutenant Mike McCroft could only grin at what he saw. Each of his men looked like they were ready to leap out of their seats. The tension was building, and he could tell.

“Sir, I have news of Captain Rappart and his men,” came a voice in the Lieutenant’s helmet.

“Go ahead Heinrich. How’re they holding up?”

The AI paused for a second, processing an answer for the commanding officer. “They have sustained substantial losses and are expecting an enemy counterattack within the next few minutes. Manpower is low, and morale is holding.”

“Hn, I see.” This was to be expected. Helljumpers were always sticking their necks out to do what most considered the impossible. However, he wasn’t about to sit back and just watch as his comrades were killed while all he could do was stand idly by and listen to the sounds of a slaughter.

Making his way to the cockpit of the pelican he grabbed the com device and set the frequency so it would reach each Pelican in his squad. “It looks like we have less time than I thought. Here’s the new plan men, we’re switching to Emergency Drop Protocol Beta. All pilots, do you copy?”

The com panel in front of the officer lit up with several acknowledgement lights. “Alright then, let’s prepare for a bumpy landing.”

Emergency Drop Protocol Beta was known as a restricted order for several reasons. It was based around the assumption that there were no other options for making a successful landing. It was a reckless, last ditch technique that was first employed on Reach when human forces found that they didn’t always get the openings they needed for careful and coordinated troop deployment.

Quite simply, it came down to the Pelicans descending to a low enough altitude so that all troops could bail out while the ships were still at moving at a high rate of speed, and all cargo being towed would be jettisoned. McCroft simply saw it as a time saver, and a way to take his men’s thoughts off of the fight, and make them concentrate more on executing the maneuver correctly.

x-x-x-X-x-x-x

“Sir they’re making their way around the cliff-face. Orders?” inquired second Lieutenant Freign.

The Hellumper was sending the video feed to his superior via his helmet link. Captain Rappart studied the images before him. Ghosts, Shadows, Spectres… but no Wraiths. They were taking the ODST’s seriously now. They wanted that hill back, and if the humans received no reinforcements, they would take it.

“Freign, don’t waste any ammo on them yet. I want you to keep an eye on our friends and inform me of any new developments, understood?” he asked.

“Affirmative sir,” was the reply. With that, the link was cut and the Captain returned his attention to the rest of his men.

He could tell that some of them were worried, but they didn’t show it. He had been in service for so long that he could tell by observing a person’s passive actions. Breathing, where they moved their eyes, all of these helped to let him know that they were concerned for the upcoming battle.

“What is the status of our wounded?” he asked a nearby soldier.

The man held out a set of dog tags to the officer. “Garcia didn’t make it sir… Needler poisoning…”

Rappart took the dog tags and held them with a clenched fist. The Covenant bastards had claimed another human life. “What of Lieutenant Bevard?”

The black armored man looked over to where the officer had been laid out. “He’s stable sir, but due to his massive loss of blood, he keeps coming in and out of consciousness. He needs to be airlifted soon or he might not make it.”

“Thank you, that’ll be all,” and with the wave of his hand, Rappart dismissed the lower ranking soldier.

The Captain walked over to where Bevard lay. Kneeling down next to him he inspected the soldier. His shoulder was covered in first aid medical gauze, and he could see where the bio-filler foam had been used. Several parts of his armor had been seared and melted by high temperate plasma blasts. In short, he wasn’t looking good.

The officer let out a sigh. Maybe if he had been faster in dispatching the jackals, Bevard wouldn’t have ended up like this. Hell, maybe Garcia would have made it too. Standing back up, Rappart swore that he wouldn’t fail his men again. With that he walked off to where he had left his weapons and extra equipment. This was going to be one hell of a fight.

Rappart needed to do something to take his mind off of the situation at hand. Things were going to get messy, and he had to be at his best, as did all of his men. Reinforcements were en route, at least that’s what he had been told. As far as when they would show up, that was another thing.

He at first had suspected that it would be something akin to the old movies where the cavalry would arrive just in time to save the day. But now he realized that this was real life, and things never go that smoothly.

Grabbing his M6D pistol, he began taking it apart and cleaning it. After all, a weapon is only as good as the person wielding it. He had to be sure that nothing could go wrong. Of course, he knew that the real reason he was doing this was to take his mind off the upcoming fight.

They had the advantage of terrain, as they had the high ground. They also had the weapons, but they lacked manpower. Ultimately, it would be a battle of endurance according to troops. The Covenant seemed to think that throwing a large number of troops at a problem would solve it.

Letting out a sigh, Rappart walked over to where the rest of his men, minus lieutenant Freign, were seated. Private Lavert noticed the officer heading their way and snapped to attention.

“At ease soldier,” he commented, making his way to the center of the group.

He stood with his men around him, thinking of what he could tell them. The truth, that they would all die? Or maybe he could give a big speech about how they would prevail over evil and defend the human race for many more years to come. He wasn’t able to think on it any more as another soldier spoke up.

“Hey Captain, can I ask you a question? And will you be honest about it?” inquired Private J. Moores.

Rappart noticed how nervous the man sounded, and decided to oblige him, giving him a curt nod.

“Well, how screwed are we? I mean, are we gonna make it out of this one?” Moores asked, looking around at his comrades, as if for the last time.

The officer let out a low chuckle. “To be perfectly honest, we’re about as fucked as all the human forces that were sent to the first Halo.”

The soldier suddenly found the ground very interesting, as he didn’t want to see how serious his superior was being. A spark of hope remained though.

“But… what about Sergeant Johnson and his guys? They made it off. And so did the Master Chief!”

Rappart was laughing inwardly. This guy just wouldn’t give up would he? He was hanging on to a fool’s hope, and that hardly ever seemed to help in life and death situations. However, he would go along with it.

“Yeah, you’re right. If those guys could make it off of that blasted ring, then we can sure as hell beat down a couple hundred Covenant troops,” the Captain remarked. “Now get into your assigned positions. I want to see Covenant bodies dropping as soon as we get the chance.”

Each man gave a sharp salute before scrambling into their designated spot. They had a body count quota to fill after all…

x-x-x-X-x-x-x

“So… any ideas on how to stop the Covenant from reaching the Ark?” came an inquiry from within the Chief’s helmet.

“They’ve probably found it by now,” the Chief remarked. “The only question is, how long until they activate it?”

The AI with him went silent for a moment, almost as if she were pondering the entire situation. “So, do you have any idea where the Ark might be?”

Spartan-117 let out a dry chuckle. “Honestly, I was hoping that you knew its whereabouts. You are a Forerunner AI after all.”

“I don’t believe they entrusted that data to any of their AI. By allowing AI constructs to hold onto such vital information they increase the risk the location falling into the wrong hands. The last thing they wanted was for someone to set off the rings simultaneously out of curiosity or madness.”

So not even the top level AI’s had been given the location of the Ark… then how did Truth know where to go? Or maybe he didn’t know? He could just be taking a shot in the dark! If that were the case, the human forces had more time than they originally thought.

“Xandria, have the rings ever been activated before?”

At first, the Chief got no response. It was as though the talkative AI had just disappeared, or gone to sleep, if AI’s could sleep. “Do you ever wonder why you don’t see any Forerunners around these days?” the construct joked with a bitter tone.

The Chief mentally cursed himself. Xandria was an AI construct whose people were long gone, and nearly forgotten until their technology was stumbled upon. Such a question could bring up bad memories.

“Listen, I’m sorry about asking-”

“Don’t,” came the meek reply. “I’d really rather not talk about it…”

With a sigh, the Chief gave up his pursuit of this particular task. He wasn’t one to push matters when it involved such painful emotions or memories. He himself was still quite sore when it came to the matter of Reach, and the fall of his Spartan brethren.

His visor seemed to dim as he lost sight of everything in front of him. Slowly, images began to pour into his mind, and he watched as colors swirled and took shape before him. What came into view caught his attention, as well as gave him a sense of vague familiarity.

The first thing the Master Chief noticed was the sheen of the metal that made up the room he was now looking at. It was the same kind of metal he had come to despise, as it was the lusterless gray and silver metal that was so commonly found making up the structure and interior of the Halo rings.

A being came into view, one dressed in a black jumpsuit that wasn’t a far cry from what the human technicians of his military wore. The only thing signifying that he wasn’t a technician was a set of wings surrounded by what looked like a miniature version of Halo. The man walked over to a holo console that was embedded in the far wall of the room.

Suddenly the point of view seemed to change. Spartan-117 found himself in front of the man now. Taking a moment, he studied the man. He reminded him of the late Captain Keyes. He was an older man with slightly graying hair and a few wrinkles around his eyes. His hazel eyes were calm and gave the man a look as though he were gazing directly into one’s soul.

Pressing a few indication switches, the holo panel blinked a few times. The man’s gaze seemed to move from one side of the screen in front of him to the other, as if reading something. The Chief could tell that whatever it was, it wasn’t good news, as the officer’s eyebrows were now furrowed with what looked like frustration.

“Xan, how recent is this data?” the man inquired. His voice was faint, almost quiet, but still held a tone that let one know that he was in command.

The response he received was that of, “It came within the last ten minutes sir, from squad alpha.”

It sounded like Xandria. Most likely this was a log from her point of view. The Master Chief only watched on in silence as the scene before him continued to play out.

Letting out a sigh of fatigue, the man rested his head in one of his hands, which was supported by the elbow he had placed on the console. “This doesn’t bode well. It’s only a matter of time before they breach our defenses.”

“But sir… isn’t there something we can do to repel them? If you authorize it, I can begin isolating sections of the facility and enable the lockdown.”

The man shook his head. “Xan, you and I both know that wouldn’t stop them. Those crafty bastards would only find a way around it or come up with a way to use that to their advantage.”

The AI began pleading with the Forerunner. “But Admiral Locke, surely if we buy ourselves enough time we can wait for reinforcements--”

“What reinforcements Xandria?” Locke snapped. With another sigh, the man continued on. “We can wait all we want. But we have to face facts. We can’t outlast them forever, and for all we know… we’re all that’s left.”

A mechanical hiss was heard behind the officer and another Forerunner made his way to where the older man was seated. The new arrival appeared to be a soldier, as the body armor and black helmet he wore seemed to be telltale signs. What looked like an older version of a plasma rifle was strapped at his side.

Stopping in front of Locke the man snapped to a crisp salute. “Sir, D Platoon leader reporting in.”

“What is it soldier?” his superior asked, continuing to look at the monitor rather than at the man behind him.

“The perimeter seems to be clear at the moment. We believe they are regrouping for another assault.”

Locke nodded before turning around the face the soldier. Standing up, he put one hand on the man’s shoulder. “The end may be coming soldier. Are you prepared to make the sacrifice you swore you would, if the time came?”

“Sir, yes sir! I am prepared to lay down my life to ensure the survival of the universe from the parasite!” the soldier announced while remaining at attention.

With a small smile, Locke gave the man’s shoulder a reassuring squeeze and dismissed him. Turning back to the monitor, the man allowed the smile to remain on his face a moment longer, before returning to his serious expression. “Xandria, I just want you to know, it has been a privilege, and an honor to work with an AI of your status.”

“Sir…” was the weak response. “Please don’t say that. This isn’t the end. Not yet.”

“You’re right. However, we must be prepared for anything, so I will speak my mind now,” he started. “You have served as our top AI for many years, seeing us through crises that no one could hope to survive. You have been the voice of reason in times of madness, giving us solid solutions when we thought there was no way out. You are truly one of a kind, and I hope you may live long and preserve the spirit of our race.”

“…”

The man was acting as if he was going to die; as if there was no way to avert the approaching storm.

“Sir… likewise, it has been an honor to serve at your side.”

“Xandria, it’s time. Arm the weapon. I’ll input the authorization code.”

Taking out what looked like a small glass disc, the officer held it over the holo console. The lights on the console seemed to glow red for a moment, as did the object. Soon after, the lights returned to normal and a new announcement came from the monitor.

“Authorization code verified. Weapon is now online and charging. Time until maximum charge is three cycles and counting.”

Locke dropped back into the chair in front of the monitor. “May the universe forgive us for being such arrogant fools… and for what we are about to do,” the man muttered.

Things began to fade to black soon after that. The Chief thought for a moment that the log had ended, but soon things began to take shape once again. It appeared as though they were back in the “command center”.

This time however, the room was washed in a red light, which came from the emergency lighting which was active. Gunfire, as well as that of plasma blasts, could be heard far in the background.

Perched in front of the computer once again was Admiral Locke. He looked extremely tired, and appeared to be struggling just to input the necessary commands into the console.

Around the room, soldiers took up defensive positions and trained their weapons on the door to the room.

“Xandria, is it ready?” asked Locke, the tiredness evident in his voice.

“Yes sir; charged and ready to go,” answered the AI.

Rubbing his temples, the man looked around the room from one soldier to the next. “Well, at least it seems we’ll go out in a blaze of glory, hm?”

He received a weak round of laughter. “We wouldn’t have it any other way sir,” was the response from one of his men.

The light moment was cut short as something impacted the door to the room. Locke suddenly returned his attention to the monitor. “Remember Xandria, preserve the spirit and memory of our people,” he ordered.

“Yeah! Don’t let us be forgotten!” shouted one of the soldiers.

With a loud explosion, the door to the command center was blown open. When the smoke cleared the Master Chief saw the one thing that he had come to hate more than any Covenant soldier, more than Halo for that matter. The Flood…

They came fast, and hit hard. From the small bulbous, basic forms, to the large, gangly and sickening looking possessed forms, they poured into the room. They were met with a hail of gunfire and plasma bolts, but they continued streaming in, their numbers seemingly endless.

Flood popped and went down left and right, but numbers were of no consequence to them. They overwhelmed the soldiers closest to them, slashing, shooting, whacking, doing whatever they could to fell their prey.

One unfortunate soldier was swarmed by basic forms, which each jammed their concealed stinger-like appendage into the man. With a blood-curling scream he fell and moved no more.

Locke looked up at the monitor, a frail smirk adorning his face. “Alright Xandria, it’s time for your last order.”

With the soldiers dispatched, the Flood turned their attention to the only remaining Forerunner in the room. They wasted no time in rushing toward their target.

“Fire the weapon!” Locke ordered.

Everything seemed to freeze as a bright light engulfed the occupants of the room. Locke could be seen with a smile, albeit one of sadness, gracing his features. Flood that had launched themselves at the man were but a few mere inches away when the light came.

After the bright flash faded, the room appeared the same as it was before, but there were no more occupants. Locke, the soldiers, and the large Flood were gone. The only sign of anything living were the small basic forms of the Flood, which seemed to run around the room a few times before departing out the blown open door of the command center.

With that, everything once again faded to black. Then the Master Chief’s vision returned to him, and he could see out of his visor once more. However, he didn’t know what to say. It wasn’t every day that he was shown the extermination of an intelligent race.

“We were such fools…” Xandria muttered. “When we first discovered the Flood our first instinct was to eliminate them and end their race. But we didn’t…”

“We figured we could use them as weapons to unleash upon our enemies. Using numerous tests we found that they grew and learned at an accelerated and unsurpassed rate. They were the perfect tool. However… we didn’t anticipate them rebelling and using our knowledge against us.”

That must have been where the construction of the Halo rings came from. They could be used as environments to study the Flood, as well as a place to contain them. And last, they could be used to subdue the Flood.

“We can’t let that happen,” the AI proclaimed. “Those rings wiped out the civilization that I had come to know as my own… and I won’t let that happen again.”

The Chief nodded, an unspoken agreement made between him and his AI accomplice that they would not fail. “And we’ll finish the Flood too,” he promised. He’d be damned if he would make the same mistake that the Forerunner’s made.

x-x-x-X-x-x-x

“Sir, they have begun their advance up the hill. Ghosts in front, Spectres in back,” Lieutenant Freign informed his superior officer.

Rappart sat in his position, his Battle Rifle at the ready. Watching through the live feed in his helmet, he saw that they were indeed outmanned, but not outclassed. If they weren’t going to make it, they were at least going to take as many of the Covenant freaks with them as they could.

Clicking his com link over to a main channel, he took one last look around at the other soldiers with him before he directed his attention back to the oncoming mass of Covenant armor.

“It’s time to show them who they’re dealing with. We took this hill, and we’ll be damned if we’re going to just give it back without a fight. If anyone is having second thoughts… if anyone doesn’t feel that they can give their life here and now, then speak now,” the Captain commanded.

There was no response from any of his men. They all knew what being a Helljumper meant, and they were going to prove that they had what it took to earn that name.

“Alright then,” the Helljumper leader began. “Let’s give them a warm welcome. Switch to long range weapons and stand by.”

This was it. As soon as they fired off a shot, there would be no backing out of it. Rappart knew this, and he also knew that there was no other option to begin with. The Covenant never took prisoners. Oh they may capture human soldiers from time to time, but they never let them live long. They only took satisfaction in watching the humans beg for their lives before brutally killing them.

He watched as the Covenant war machines slowly approached, maintaining a steady and well coordinated battle formation. The officer knew this tactic. Intimidation… a spawning tool of fear, one of the most dangerous things in a fight. Fear is poison, and once it appears, it doesn’t leave until the fight is over.

Fortunately, he knew that his men were ready to lay down their lives, and take as many Covenant with them as they could. There would be no begging, no cowering, no fleeing, just carnage…

“Open fire!” Rappart barked into his com link.

At that, every Battle Rifle, Sniper Rifle, and long distance weapon erupted with a roar. Another fight had been set in motion, and with height and morale as their only advantages, things weren’t looking up for the Helljumpers…

-Chapter End-

Draknal: Ah, another cliffie. Don’t worry people, the next chapter is where everything that has been set in motion, will avalanche. You’ll get your fighting, and a better look into the things you might not understand. Until next time!

R&R please! It’s very much appreciated!