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Instalation Zero Six - Chapter One: Arrival
Date: 4 July 2006, 9:40 pm

[INDENT] Captain Hermin Ferald stood firmly in the center of his ship's bridge with his hands behind his back. With his jaw tightly clenched, he again reviewed the facts he knew. It had been over forty hours since the small Covenant recon picket had found them, informed their superiors, and brought six Covenant cruisers to ambush them, despite all of Ferald's caution in that damned system. Blind, with no recon in an uncharted system, Ferald should have known better. He should have gotten out of there ASAP, but his need for intel was too much for his prudence.
[INDENT] Almost a half a week ago, his UNSC superiors took his old ship, one that he'd been working with for years, ever since he'd become a captain, in successful victories against the Covenant. Yes, of course, they were all small victories, and he had almost always been with no more than half a dozen to at least a score of other UNSC cruisers, but they were victories, and with the way this war was going, any victory was good news. He'd been a little pissed when they took it, but he understood when they told him what it was for. Apparently it was for some top secret mission involving the Spartans, which made him happy and unhappy. Happy because it meant they would put the ship in good hands for the sake of the Spartans safety, and unhappy because the ship would be in more danger than ever, for the Spartans were never in any "safe" places. He cared greatly about his ship, what he considered possibly the best ship in whole fleet.
[INDENT] Ferald never objected to the Spartan program, but he was never a fan of it either. Though he had never personally seen one, they sounded like alien humanoids with almost no mind. Most of those under his command were about fifty-fifty with it, and that was just fine with him. As long as they did their job and followed orders, they could think whatever the hell they wanted.
[INDENT] In the years of commanding his old ship, [I] The Pillar of Autumn [/I], he'd grown to know and love it. It was probably the smallest or one of the smallest cruisers in the entire UNSC fleet, but it had other advantages than size. A [I]Halcyon[/I]-class ship, it boasted high maneuverability, several longsword fighters, dozens of 50mm guns all over it for countering smaller craft, and a small MAC gun that could fire three shots in a single charge for cruisers, as well as over a thousand missile pods. It had light armor, but was built in different sections and areas, like the honey-comb of a beehive. As a result, it could take an incredible amount of abuse. Captain Ferald had thankfully never really had to test that, but now he probably would never get his ship back.
[INDENT] Now he had a larger, perhaps one of the largest ships in the fleet, more armored space cruiser with two generators for the engines. It was almost as fast as his old one, but still lacked many assets that the Autumn could have supplied. It had more missile pods though, and four MAC guns that, although bigger and more powerful than the Autumn's, could only fire one round per charge. Sometimes one of them might get off a second shot, but it was highly unlikely and not to be depended on. It was named [I] The Victor [/I], rather ironic because despite its advantages in armor, speed, size, and firepower, it hadn't been in many battles and lost the majority of the ones it had been in.
[INDENT] After the confiscation of his ship, he had run several recon runs and random checkouts with his new one that were always nothing. He had been sent to a newly discovered system which he had heard might become a new base, depending on the information he brought back. On the way back with little report, sensors painted major contacts somewhere close to him. He came out of slipspace to check it out and found a system that wasn't charted on Human archives. He didn't find anything at the time, but too late discovered that he was on the opposite side of a planet that hid several dozen Covenant armadas from sensors. Apparently they were aware of him, and didn't know how many Human ships there were, so they sent six of their cruisers after him in ambush. As with the protocol, they had jumped to random coordinates to escape and not lead them to Earth. That was it. Now, with seconds ticking away from the time when they would come out of Slipspace, pretty much all of the crew and Marines were being woken out of cryo-sleep and put on alert.
[INDENT] With a start the Captain brought himself back to the present. He needed to focus on the present situation.
[INDENT] One of the bridge crew waved to catch his attention. "Twenty seconds to real-space sir! I suggest you sit down!"
[INDENT] "Thank you Connell, I'll do that." Ferald left his place and quickly buckled into a padded chair close to the ships main controls. Looking out the main view port, he now wished he had the Autumn's view. He forced himself to forget his lost ship and concentrate on the moment, listening to the countdown. "Eight seconds to real-space! Six, five, four, three, two, and one! Revert!"
[INDENT] There was a slight shudder as the giant ship appeared in silence. The usual second of everyone holding their breath held for a moment, then the scanners started up, taking in as much information as possible, looking for planets, possibly asteroids, and most important, UNSC or hostile forces. After a mere forty seconds, it was clear that they were the only ones in the system. But sensors painted something else, something that Ferald was instantly curious about.
[INDENT] After quick long-range scans, a rough 3D image of it floated above a projector. Ring-shaped, it was massive. Info showed it to be ten thousand kilometers in diameter, and twenty-two point three kilometers thick. The outer surface of the thing seemed strangely metallic and was engraved with deep geometric patterns. On the inner side, there were several different climates, showing mountains, snow, grass, every habitable environment thinkable.
[INDENT] The ship's AI, Tremaine, appeared on a second projector and studied the object. She wasn't a humanoid AI, but instead something that resembled a comet or flaming meteor. "Tremaine . . ." Ferald began slowly. "Do you know what that thing is?"
[INDENT] "No Captain. It appears to be artificial, but I can't be entirely sure without a closer scan." A moment's pause indicated that the AI had taken a moment to examine the data coming in from the sensors. "From what I can tell, there seems to be some sort of gravity field that directs the objects spin and keeps the ring's atmosphere inside it."
[INDENT] "This thing has an [I]atmosphere [/I]?"
[INDENT] "Of course captain." She said, as if it were obvious. "Look at the inside. It's covered with plant life. They would not be able to survive without an atmosphere."
[INDENT] Captain Ferald shook his head in disbelief. "An artificial atmosphere . . . Incredible . . ." he murmured softly.
[INDENT] "I have a somewhat pleasant surprise for you sir. This ring-world, if sensors are accurate, the construct has an atmosphere of oxygen-nitrogen and Earth-normal gravity. Very interesting, I wonder if . . ." she trailed off. "Well, anyway, I'm committing this data to the ship's main memory, if that's all right with you Captain."
[INDENT] "Yes." He said, frowning. "We may want to review this later. Do it." The AI's comet-like form grew slightly brighter for a moment, then went back to normal. "Data transfer complete. I await your next command."
[INDENT] Ferald deepened his frown in agitation, attempting to determine what the best course of action was. Normally he would write up a quick report, add it to the ship's log, and set course for home, home meaning Reach, where pretty much all ships reported back to. Only he couldn't do that because he didn't know where he was for one, and he also didn't know if the Covenant were still out there, looking for him in the course of path for Reach. At that point he remembered that it didn't matter anyway, because Reach was under attack. The slipspace jump and ring had made it momentarily slip his mind. The armadas he had bumped into on accident had jumped into slipspace only several minutes before he gotten the call, saying that Reach was under attack and all ships were to return to help beat off the assault. But, Ferald wasn't able to do that, not with six Covenant cruisers breathing down his neck, ambushed and having the possibility of missing Reach and going all the way to Earth, leading the Covenant there and dooming mankind. It wasn't likely to make that kind of mistake, but accidents happen. Anyway, just the cruisers were enough to keep him from Reach, so he'd jumped away and succeeded in losing them, only to find a mystery in front of him. He was too far away from Reach to make a difference anyway, so he might as well try to figure out where the hell they were, and he guessed that that weird ring-world had the answers to all his questions.
[INDENT] "All right Tremaine, I'm going to land some troops on that thing. We need information, and I believe that we'll find it on the object. I want you to start up all necessary sequences, alert the crew, and prepare the materials essential for creating a base once we're on the ground, however temporary. I assume you can handle that."
[INDENT] "Of course Captain." She said in mock seriousness. "What do you think I am, Human?"
***
[INDENT] "The transports are on the ground. Ninety-nine point nine percent readiness in all troops. I've put the entire ship's personnel on standby. All forces are ready to begin unloading. Shall I give the command?"
[INDENT] Captain Ferald looked at the AI with amazement. It was surprising to have such an old, low class AI work that fast. Of course, she wasn't really all that low-class, because all ship AI's [U]had [/U] to be high class. But for a ship AI, she was fairly low, though useful and effective. "Yes, begin unloading." He said simply. "And keep me informed." Tremaine's glowing orb-like appearance brightened for a moment, then disappeared to personally give instructions to the crew.
[INDENT] Ferald sighed. It wouldn't be long now. He had already begun looking for an ideal spot for a base, not for fighting, for no Covenant were present, but for a place to hold them for however many days that they would be there. They could have used the Victor itself as a base, but Ferald wanted an alternate place to regroup that was on the structure. Making too many trips in and out of space would cost them a lot. Plus, the Covenant were still out there, looking for him, and if one of their cruisers popped out of slipspace, then it wouldn't take them long to find the ring, and only a few cruisers could blow the whole thing to pieces. Of course, they would keep personnel on the ship and hold it as a primary base out in space, but the other, named "beta base" before its actual construction, would serve as a secondary one on the ground.
[INDENT] Gene, the even lower class AI belonging to the Helljumpers appeared on one of the five projectors on the bridge. Gene was an AI resembling an old-fashioned theater mask. The floating face would flash different colors like every other AI, data scrolling across it. Ferald had borrowed Gene from the Helljumpers commander, Major Griffen, to do other tasks while Tremaine was off organizing the discharge of the cruiser's Marines and supplies. While unable to work quite as fast or efficiently as Tremaine, the AI could handle almost anything put on him.
[INDENT] "I have good news Captain. I have found an ideal spot for Beta base."
[INDENT] "Good." Ferald said with enthusiasm. "Where is it?" in response, the AI disappeared and was replaced by a floating image of the ring. Parts of the image disappeared as the view zoomed in quickly, showing a cliff several thousand meters high. At the top, the area was very flat, and only a few plants and formations were scattered here and there. Gene's voice came out of the speakers below the projection, lacking the neural link to the Captain's CNI transponder that Tremaine had. "This cliff is far enough away from the Victor to avoid detection by Covenant sensors should they appear and find it, but close enough to get to quickly and have the base completed and fully operational by the end of the day. With a few 50mm guns positioned around it, and Marines operating them, the base would be well protected." The image disappeared and was replaced again by Gene's mask form, data and color flashing across his shape. "Though, Sir, I must say that it is probably highly unnecessary. I doubt the Covenant can find us here and it isn't likely that they'll appear by chance."
[INDENT] "Your concern is noted, but I don't want to take any chances. We won't have time to bring guns to that base if the Covenant emerges from space. Estimate amount of supplies, men, and weapons needed for the construction and uphold of the base and Pelicans required for transport to it. Then transmit the data here and start up."
[INDENT] Gene acknowledged the order with a "Yes Sir" and disappeared to begin his task. Ferald smiled. He liked it when things went well.

[INDENT] Fleet Master Huta Fumamee stood at a firm stance before the main display deep inside his capital ship, [I]The Illumination[/I], attempting to look like he had authority. He had a right to, after all, because he did have authority. Fleet Master's did not humble themselves. They were proud.
[INDENT] The navigator turned to him in question. "To where shall I set the course, Sir?" The Fleet Master had no idea where to look for the other ancient Halo's, but he couldn't let that show if he wanted to maintain discipline onboard.
[INDENT] Fumamee had been charged to find the other ancient Halos, since the research on the first one was going so well. Apparently the Prophets had found information regarding Halo and bringing them to the conclusion that there were more Halos, somewhere in the universe, awaiting discovery. Now, Fumamee had been given an armada of considerable size and ordered to do whatever it took to find and take the others.
[INDENT] Fumamee felt that he was more than worthy to be in his position, and the Prophets as well were confident that he was able to do his task. He had run several search and destroy missions near the beginning of the war on the Humans, as well as other searches for sacred artifacts that the Prophets desired, but there were many other Fleet Masters and even Ship Masters that felt they were much more qualified in finding such a sacred item as another Halo. Some were . . . not content that they had not been selected. Fumamee had transferred those under his command that he did not trust.
[INDENT] "Tell the armada to spread out and prepare to receive the coordinates." Fumamee said. Then he turned away and gave the equivalent to a smile. He would find them. Might not be soon, but yes, he would find them.

[INDENT] "Beta base will be fully established within a half hour, Sir. Most of the structure is complete, and I have begun transporting Marines over. As with the data I transmitted to you, the complete number of troops that will be staying there is four hundred. This will be able to withstand a massive attack, Sir."
[INDENT] "Thank you Gene. Continue operations and notify me when things are fully operational down there. The Victor will serve as a satellite and continue to take in as much intel as possible, but on the ground things are different, I'm sure. As soon as its finished, I want you to work with Tremaine and begin taking the necessary procedures to create several more bases around the Ring. I want to know everything about this thing, but three main questions stand. Why is it here, how old is it, and who the hell built it?" The AI floated gently above the center projector, data scrolling across his face. The other four projectors on the bridge showed the ring, beta base, the Victor, and other areas the crew were keeping an eye on.
[INDENT] Captain Ferald was tired. The deployment of the bases and constant work in establishing defenses and preparing mobile forces for recon and other purposes, like finding out what this ring was, had started to wear him down. Soon he was going to push all the work on Major Carter and catch a few hours of sleep. So far he hadn't done much anyway so he deserved a little extra work. Ferald, however, had been overseeing every last event and construction of beta base, and planning possible places for other bases, in case he might need more areas to work with. All supervision had taken large effort and left him exhausted. In any case, he could rest now. Beta base would be finished tomorrow, and he could probably start looking for answers soon after. He assigned his late duties to the other top personnel and headed for his cabin. Things would be even better in the morning.

[INDENT] Far below the ring's surface, locked doors held in a terrible inhuman monstrosity. Waiting for so long to escape, to feed. Now, unbeknownst to even the monstrosity itself, it would not be long until their long awaited escape. But now, they still wait, and wait, and wait. [I]Hungry[/I].

Instalation Zero Six-Chapter One: Arrival.
Date: 1 August 2006, 6:05 am

       Captain Hermin Ferald stood firmly in the center of his ship's bridge with his hands behind his back. With his jaw tightly clenched, he again reviewed the facts he knew. It had been over forty hours since the small Covenant recon picket had found them, informed their superiors, and brought six Covenant cruisers to ambush them, despite all of Ferald's caution in that damned system. Blind, with no recon in an uncharted system, Ferald should have known better. He should have gotten out of there ASAP, but his need for intel was too much for his prudence.
       Almost a half a week ago, his UNSC superiors took his old ship, one that he'd been working with for years, ever since he'd become a captain, in successful victories against the Covenant. Yes, of course, they were all small victories, and he had almost always been with no more than half a dozen to at least a score of other UNSC cruisers, but they were victories, and with the way this war was going, any victory was good news. He'd been a little pissed when they took it, but he understood when they told him what it was for. Apparently it was for some top secret mission involving the Spartans, which made him happy and unhappy. Happy because it meant they would put the ship in good hands for the sake of the Spartans safety, and unhappy because the ship would be in more danger than ever, for the Spartans were never in any "safe" places. He cared greatly about his ship, what he considered possibly the best ship in whole fleet.
       Ferald never objected to the Spartan program, but he was never a fan of it either. Though he had never personally seen one, they sounded like alien humanoids with almost no mind. Most of those under his command were about fifty-fifty with it, and that was just fine with him. As long as they did their job and followed orders, they could think whatever the hell they wanted.
       In the years of commanding his old ship, The Pillar of Autumn , he'd grown to know and love it. It was probably the smallest or one of the smallest cruisers in the entire UNSC fleet, but it had other advantages than size. A Halcyon-class ship, it boasted high maneuverability, several longsword fighters, dozens of 50mm guns all over it for countering smaller craft, and a small MAC gun that could fire three shots in a single charge for cruisers, as well as over a thousand missile pods. It had light armor, but was built in different sections and areas, like the honey-comb of a beehive. As a result, it could take an incredible amount of abuse. Captain Ferald had thankfully never really had to test that, but now he probably would never get his ship back.
       Now he had a larger, perhaps one of the largest ships in the fleet, more armored space cruiser with two generators for the engines. It was almost as fast as his old one, but still lacked many assets that the Autumn could have supplied. It had more missile pods though, and four MAC guns that, although bigger and more powerful than the Autumn's, could only fire one round per charge. Sometimes one of them might get off a second shot, but it was highly unlikely and not to be depended on. It was named The Victor , rather ironic because despite its advantages in armor, speed, size, and firepower, it hadn't been in many battles and lost the majority of the ones it had been in.
       After the confiscation of his ship, he had run several recon runs and random checkouts with his new one that were always nothing. He had been sent to a newly discovered system which he had heard might become a new base, depending on the information he brought back. On the way back with little report, sensors painted major contacts somewhere close to him. He came out of slipspace to check it out and found a system that wasn't charted on Human archives. He didn't find anything at the time, but too late discovered that he was on the opposite side of a planet that hid several dozen Covenant armadas from sensors. Apparently they were aware of him, and didn't know how many Human ships there were, so they sent six of their cruisers after him in ambush. As with the protocol, they had jumped to random coordinates to escape and not lead them to Earth. That was it. Now, with seconds ticking away from the time when they would come out of Slipspace, pretty much all of the crew and Marines were being woken out of cryo-sleep and put on alert.
       With a start the Captain brought himself back to the present. He needed to focus on the present situation.
       One of the bridge crew waved to catch his attention. "Twenty seconds to real-space sir! I suggest you sit down!"
       "Thank you Connell, I'll do that." Ferald left his place and quickly buckled into a padded chair close to the ships main controls. Looking out the main view port, he now wished he had the Autumn's view. He forced himself to forget his lost ship and concentrate on the moment, listening to the countdown. "Eight seconds to real-space! Six, five, four, three, two, and one! Revert!"
       There was a slight shudder as the giant ship appeared in silence. The usual second of everyone holding their breath held for a moment, then the scanners started up, taking in as much information as possible, looking for planets, possibly asteroids, and most important, UNSC or hostile forces. After a mere forty seconds, it was clear that they were the only ones in the system. But sensors painted something else, something that Ferald was instantly curious about.
       After quick long-range scans, a rough 3D image of it floated above a projector. Ring-shaped, it was massive. Info showed it to be ten thousand kilometers in diameter, and twenty-two point three kilometers thick. The outer surface of the thing seemed strangely metallic and was engraved with deep geometric patterns. On the inner side, there were several different climates, showing mountains, snow, grass, every habitable environment thinkable.
       The ship's AI, Tremaine, appeared on a second projector and studied the object. She wasn't a humanoid AI, but instead something that resembled a comet or flaming meteor. "Tremaine . . ." Ferald began slowly. "Do you know what that thing is?"
       "No Captain. It appears to be artificial, but I can't be entirely sure without a closer scan." A moment's pause indicated that the AI had taken a moment to examine the data coming in from the sensors. "From what I can tell, there seems to be some sort of gravity field that directs the objects spin and keeps the ring's atmosphere inside it."
       "This thing has an atmosphere ?"
       "Of course captain." She said, as if it were obvious. "Look at the inside. It's covered with plant life. They would not be able to survive without an atmosphere."
       Captain Ferald shook his head in disbelief. "An artificial atmosphere . . . Incredible . . ." he murmured softly.
       "I have a somewhat pleasant surprise for you sir. This ring-world, if sensors are accurate, the construct has an atmosphere of oxygen-nitrogen and Earth-normal gravity. Very interesting, I wonder if . . ." she trailed off. "Well, anyway, I'm committing this data to the ship's main memory, if that's all right with you Captain."
       "Yes." He said, frowning. "We may want to review this later. Do it." The AI's comet-like form grew slightly brighter for a moment, then went back to normal. "Data transfer complete. I await your next command."
       Ferald deepened his frown in agitation, attempting to determine what the best course of action was. Normally he would write up a quick report, add it to the ship's log, and set course for home, home meaning Reach, where pretty much all ships reported back to. Only he couldn't do that because he didn't know where he was for one, and he also didn't know if the Covenant were still out there, looking for him in the course of path for Reach. At that point he remembered that it didn't matter anyway, because Reach was under attack. The slipspace jump and ring had made it momentarily slip his mind. The armadas he had bumped into on accident had jumped into slipspace only several minutes before he gotten the call, saying that Reach was under attack and all ships were to return to help beat off the assault. But, Ferald wasn't able to do that, not with six Covenant cruisers breathing down his neck, ambushed and having the possibility of missing Reach and going all the way to Earth, leading the Covenant there and dooming mankind. It wasn't likely to make that kind of mistake, but accidents happen. Anyway, just the cruisers were enough to keep him from Reach, so he'd jumped away and succeeded in losing them, only to find a mystery in front of him. He was too far away from Reach to make a difference anyway, so he might as well try to figure out where the hell they were, and he guessed that that weird ring-world had the answers to all his questions.
       "All right Tremaine, I'm going to land some troops on that thing. We need information, and I believe that we'll find it on the object. I want you to start up all necessary sequences, alert the crew, and prepare the materials essential for creating a base once we're on the ground, however temporary. I assume you can handle that."
       "Of course Captain." She said in mock seriousness. "What do you think I am, Human?"
***
       "The transports are on the ground. Ninety-nine point nine percent readiness in all troops. I've put the entire ship's personnel on standby. All forces are ready to begin unloading. Shall I give the command?"
       Captain Ferald looked at the AI with amazement. It was surprising to have such an old, low class AI work that fast. Of course, she wasn't really all that low-class, because all ship AI's had to be high class. But for a ship AI, she was fairly low, though useful and effective. "Yes, begin unloading." He said simply. "And keep me informed." Tremaine's glowing orb-like appearance brightened for a moment, then disappeared to personally give instructions to the crew.
       Ferald sighed. It wouldn't be long now. He had already begun looking for an ideal spot for a base, not for fighting, for no Covenant were present, but for a place to hold them for however many days that they would be there. They could have used the Victor itself as a base, but Ferald wanted an alternate place to regroup that was on the structure. Making too many trips in and out of space would cost them a lot. Plus, the Covenant were still out there, looking for him, and if one of their cruisers popped out of slipspace, then it wouldn't take them long to find the ring, and only a few cruisers could blow the whole thing to pieces. Of course, they would keep personnel on the ship and hold it as a primary base out in space, but the other, named "Beta base" before its actual construction, would serve as a secondary one on the ground.
       Gene, the even lower class AI belonging to the Helljumpers appeared on one of the five projectors on the bridge. Gene was an AI resembling an old-fashioned theater mask. The floating face would flash different colors like every other AI, data scrolling across it. Ferald had borrowed Gene from the Helljumpers commander, Major Griffen, to do other tasks while Tremaine was off organizing the discharge of the cruiser's Marines and supplies. While unable to work quite as fast or efficiently as Tremaine, the AI could handle almost anything put on him.
       "I have good news Captain. I have found an ideal spot for Beta base."
       "Good." Ferald said with enthusiasm. "Where is it?" in response, the AI disappeared and was replaced by a floating image of the ring. Parts of the image disappeared as the view zoomed in quickly, showing a cliff several thousand meters high. At the top, the area was very flat, and only a few plants and formations were scattered here and there. Gene's voice came out of the speakers below the projection, lacking the neural link to the Captain's CNI transponder that Tremaine had. "This cliff is far enough away from the Victor to avoid detection by Covenant sensors should they appear and find it, but close enough to get to quickly and have the base completed and fully operational by the end of the day. With a few 50mm guns positioned around it, and Marines operating them, the base would be well protected." The image disappeared and was replaced again by Gene's mask form, data and color flashing across his shape. "Though, Sir, I must say that it is probably highly unnecessary. I doubt the Covenant can find us here and it isn't likely that they'll appear by chance."
       "Your concern is noted, but I don't want to take any chances. We won't have time to bring guns to that base if the Covenant emerges from space. Estimate amount of supplies, men, and weapons needed for the construction and uphold of the base and Pelicans required for transport to it. Then transmit the data here and start up."
       Gene acknowledged the order with a "Yes Sir" and disappeared to begin his task. Ferald smiled. He liked it when things went well.

       Fleet Master Huta Fumamee stood at a firm stance before the main display deep inside his capital ship, The Illumination, attempting to look like he had authority. He had a right to, after all, because he did have authority. Fleet Master's did not humble themselves. They were proud.
       The navigator turned to him in question. "To where shall I set the course, Sir?" The Fleet Master had no idea where to look for the other ancient Halo's, but he couldn't let that show if he wanted to maintain discipline onboard.
       Fumamee had been charged to find the other ancient Halos, since the research on the first one was going so well. Apparently the Prophets had found information regarding Halo and bringing them to the conclusion that there were more Halos, somewhere in the universe, awaiting discovery. Now, Fumamee had been given an armada of considerable size and ordered to do whatever it took to find and take the others.
       Fumamee felt that he was more than worthy to be in his position, and the Prophets as well were confident that he was able to do his task. He had run several search and destroy missions near the beginning of the war on the Humans, as well as other searches for sacred artifacts that the Prophets desired, but there were many other Fleet Masters and even Ship Masters that felt they were much more qualified in finding such a sacred item as another Halo. Some were . . . not content that they had not been selected. Fumamee had transferred those under his command that he did not trust.
       "Tell the armada to spread out and prepare to receive the coordinates." Fumamee said. Then he turned away and gave the equivalent to a smile. He would find them. Might not be soon, but yes, he would find them.

       "Beta base will be fully established within a half hour, Sir. Most of the structure is complete, and I have begun transporting Marines over. As with the data I transmitted to you, the complete number of troops that will be staying there is four hundred. This will be able to withstand a massive attack, Sir."
       "Thank you Gene. Continue operations and notify me when things are fully operational down there. The Victor will serve as a satellite and continue to take in as much intel as possible, but on the ground things are different, I'm sure. As soon as its finished, I want you to work with Tremaine and begin taking the necessary procedures to create several more bases around the Ring. I want to know everything about this thing, but three main questions stand. Why is it here, how old is it, and who the hell built it?" The AI floated gently above the center projector, data scrolling across his face. The other four projectors on the bridge showed the Ring, Beta base, the Victor, and other areas the crew were keeping an eye on.
       Captain Ferald was tired. The deployment of the bases and constant work in establishing defenses and preparing mobile forces for recon and other purposes, like finding out what this ring was, had started to wear him down. Soon he was going to push all the work on Major Carter and catch a few hours of sleep. So far he hadn't done much anyway so he deserved a little extra work. Ferald, however, had been overseeing every last event and construction of beta base, and planning possible places for other bases, in case he might need more areas to work with. All supervision had taken large effort and left him exhausted. In any case, he could rest now. Beta base would be finished tomorrow, and he could probably start looking for answers soon after. He assigned his late duties to the other top personnel and headed for his cabin. Things would be even better in the morning.

       Far below the ring's surface, locked doors held in a terrible inhuman monstrosity. Waiting for so long to escape, to feed. Now, unbeknownst to even the monstrosity itself, it would not be long until their long awaited escape. But now, they still wait, and wait, and wait. Hungry.

Instalation Zero Six-Chapter Two: Scouts
Date: 18 August 2006, 5:55 am

       "Hey Sarge! The LT just got some new plans in from the Victor! She wants to meet and discuss them with you ASAP!" The Private shouted to his superior officer from far afield. Sergeant Jared Conner turned towards him, armor glinting in the sunlight.
       "All right! Tell her that I'll be right there!" He then turned to the armory officer standing next to him. "I only wanted to try it on. Can I get this armor off fast?"
       The officer chuckled. "Sorry Sir. It'll take a couple minutes. Looks like you'll be wearing it to that discussion. Just be sure to bring it back."
       Conner scowled. "What's the use of armor if you can't put it on fast enough to protect yourself in a surprise attack?" The officer chuckled again.
       "You could just never take it off."
       "Oh, shut up." The Sergeant said in a weak verbal defense. He set off for Beta base headquarters at a brisk jog. He was grateful that the armor wasn't that heavy. It didn't take long for him to make it there, but even so, by the time he arrived; two other officers were already present, studying holograms and blueprints. One of them turned toward him, a pretty female in a deep green uniform. She had long blond hair, light gray eyes, slim figure, and a firmly clenched jaw.
       "Well Sergeant, took you long enough."
       "Yeah Lieutenant, nice to see you too." She gave him a second look, eyes dropping slightly, then back up.
       "What's with the armor?"
       "You caught me testing some stuff at the Armory." She nodded slightly, then jerked her head towards the blueprints, turning toward them as Sarge walked forward to join her.
       "Well, the flyboys up there want some more outposts and bases down here. They aren't expecting any attacks, but they want to know more about this place."
       "More bases?" said Conner in surprise. His eyebrows lifted half an inch. "I would have thought that what we have here is more than enough." The El Tee smiled.
       "Yeah, me too. Actually, the orders come from the Captain himself, and apparently he wants to establish large research here. I think he's hoping to find something useful for the war." She pulled a hologram projector towards her from across a table and erased the image of a satellite, replacing it with a large, pyramid-like structure lined with rooms, going down slowing in a spiral, therefore using up nearly every inch of space there was, compacting the entire building to a few square miles, where as spread out the base would probably stretch for dozens of miles. "Here's one of the outposts. He wants this one mostly underground, about an eighth of the whole ring away." Conner took a look and allowed his eyes to widen.
       "That's one big project. Not only is the actual base quite big, but the whole underground part. However, that would make it good military storage and an excellent research facility. Being below the ground might tell us a lot." Lieutenant Hannah Jackson was not a regular nonsense woman, and knew when to be serious. Right now she was serious.
       "That's not half of it Sarge. Check it out." She turned to another portable hologram projector on another table a few feet away. Slender fingers lightly touching a few buttons on the bottom, she brought up an image of the ring, replacing the base plans that had been there a few seconds ago. "Here's the entire ring itself," She said. "and here are all the bases in the places the flyboys want them within the next two weeks." Several dots began to appear all over the gigantic construct. Once again, Sergeant Conner's eyes widened. When the dots finally stopped appearing, he guessed at least sixteen different locations. He counted the same number.
       "We're going to have to get a lot more supplies and troops than what we have here at Beta base." He said seriously, turning to look her in the eye.
       "Yeah, I told the Captain that, and he said that that went without saying. Told me he was sending down some more resources. A lot more."
       "No, Lieutenant, you need to understand. I know that the Victor is one of the biggest ships in the entire Human fleet, but this is crazy. We won't be able to leave too many troops sitting around in the cryo tubes upstairs. It'll be hard enough to construct them, but nearly impossible to finish all of these bases in just a week."
       Hannah shook her head. "No Sargeant, YOU need to understand. The Captain wants this done badly, to begin research as soon as possible. He is sending almost half of the entire ship's personnel to join us immediately."
       Conner nearly choked. Half of the whole damn personnel? Their ship was one of the biggest in the fleet. Thousands upon thousands of Marines were coming to help. The Captain was waking almost everyone up from cryo-sleep. "We'll still have to work hard." He managed to say. The LT nodded.
       "I know, but they are coming down within the next eight hours. We've been ordered to start construction on all of these sites immediately after receiving the support, so we've got to work fast with what we have to make sure that all of those sites are safe. I've already split our forces into seventeen groups, fourty-four people here, and twenty-two for each site. That puts us at two Pelicans per site as well, plus Warthogs for recon. Be warned that we will be severely weakened here at Beta base. If an attack is imminent, we have to pull all forces back here immediately."
       Sarge nodded. "Well, at least we have the Scorpions here still, right? They won't be worth crap for recon, not to mention a pain in the ass to transport, so they'll be staying here, and they've got to count for something. If an attack is made too quickly for the rest of our forces to get back here, unless on a large scale, we should be able to hold here until they can arrive. We won't have air support, but we can sure as hell give any attackers some artillery." Jackson nodded, her eyes gleaming. She knew it was true, but she didn't exactly want to risk it. If they were attacked during this time, it would result in heavy casualties. Since it was the only option though, she would have to live with it.
       "Alright Sergeant Conner, lets deploy."
       "Yeah, but one more thing."
       "What's the big deal? Why all this speed? I mean, we're at war, sure, but let's face the facts: we don't know anything about this ring-world. Why is the Captain trying to find info on it? Why not just get back to Reach and let the Admirals figure out what to do with it?"
       Lieutenant Jackson frowned and put her hands on her hips. "Well to tell the truth Sergeant, I've been wondering the same thing. So has the entire ship's personnel for that matter. There are whispers, people are making stories from it. Some are saying that Earth is gone, and that's why no one has seen it in so long. They say that there is no home to return to. Now they say that Reach is gone too, glassed, like all the other planets the Humans have lost. The Marines think that the higher ranks are keeping the info from troops to keep moral from dropping."
       "You think that there's truth to it? I mean, Earth being gone is ridiculous, and so is the idea about Reach, but what if it was found? Attacked? They would of course call for support, but we were in a tight spot back with those Covenant cruisers. What if the Captain couldn't make it to Reach because of the cruisers? And now Reach is heavily damaged?"
       Jackson shook her. "I don't know Conner, but whatever happened happened for a reason. I wish I knew what is going on in the Captain's mind right now, but that is unfortunately not an option. Right now we need to focus on the task at hand. Let's secure those sites." Conner nodded reluctantly. He wasn't questioning authority, but he simply wondered what the hell was going on. He pushed his logic aside and picked up a comlink to begin announcing orders for individual teams. Thinking was not what he was paid for.
***
       Captain Ferald leaned over a display in the Victor'sbridge. "How are our plans going Tremaine? Have our people on the ground received the schematics yet?" Ferald inquired. The comet-like AI bobbed slightly.
       "Yes Captain. They have received the plans and already begun to send out recon to make sure its safe out there. They've been weakened, but there shouldn't be any threat in the area. The transports carrying troops to the Ring have just begun launching from the Victor's different launching bays. Sections C, E, and H are in use, and all other launching bays will also be in use just following. The first of the Pelican's and assault boats should be arriving on the ring shortly. About five more hours, and they'll be ready to build, if they work as quickly as we hope." Captain Hermin Ferald silently praised the efficiency of his own men. Not even he had expected to start things this fast.
       He had woken up from an undisturbed sleep forty minutes ago, feeling better. He reassumed command, giving the Major a break. Gene, the second, lower class AI had finished his task with Beta base and other locations and had returned to the Helljumpers turf. Now that the first supplies of Beta base had been established, Tremaine could handle everything. She had questioned the Captain, informing him that if he launched the Helljumpers then the bases could be finished a lot sooner, but he wanted to keep them in reserve, so that he could use them as a fast support method should an attack be made on the ground.
       "And the satellites, what about them? Nearing completion?"
       "Yes Sir. Two are already in orbit and a third was launched a few minutes ago. The fourth is on its way to the launching bay, and the fifth is still in the workshop. Some problem with the communication system. It will soon be ready, and since you wanted it held in reserve, it will soon be ready to launch any time you want Sir."
       "Outstanding." He replied. Since Captain Ferald expected to stay for at least several weeks with large research, he had the mind to launch some of the satellites he had on board, so they wouldn't be totally dependant on the Victor itself for space research. As another precaution, he had also custom outfitted the satellites with several missile pods, ready to fire on targets in space or even on the ground if need be.
       No one really knew how long they were going to stay, and all looked towards the two AI's and the Captain for knowledge. Not even the Captain himself was dead-set on a time that they were going to leave here, but if things went well and they found some thing useful here, they might stay a while. The troops had already started to guess that with all of the artillery that was being put on the ring. Even if they didn't find anything useful on this ring, unlikely, since it was artificial and therefore had a purpose, then they would have a powerful military position here, and the Victor could head back to Reach with its knowledge.
       The Covenant had found Reach, that was for certain, and that meant that they would not stop until it was destroyed. Reach, with all of its firepower, might be able to withstand the first one or two attacks made on it. But eventually it would wear down. The Covenant certainly had plenty of ships to toss their way.
       But this ring was perfect for another shipyard. Captain Ferald imagined ships under construction in the center, large parts for them built on different sides before being launched to the center, received by freighters and fused to new ships. It would speed up the building process by a lot, and another amazingly powerful military occupation like Reach would stretch human survival quite far. And luckily since the Ring was so multi-environmental, it would also make the best of training facilities for new Marines and maybe even Spartans. It was an insane idea, but still very possible. Within two weeks the bases would be established and fully operational, and then the Victor would jump to slipspace and hopefully get the UNSC interested. Ferald had no doubt that it would catch their attention and they would definitely want it.
       Now that things were running smoothly for a minute, Ferald pondered a question that he had had for a long time. How had the Covenant found Reach? With the way things were going in the war, he hoped things went as well as he planned. If so, the length of the existence of the Humans would be greatly extended. Soon they would head back to Reach and contact the survivors of what he assumed would be a massive attack. He only hoped the survivors would be able to do what he hoped for.
***
       Lance Corporal Levi Carson set his helmet lightly on his head and clicked on its video camera. This was just basic recon, but the superiors still wanted to have a couple recordings to study later in case they saw anything of interest. He was hella confused, like everyone else. No one really knew what was going on, but apparently the Captain had big plans.
       He was a part of Jackson's detachment, fourth squad's sniper. He'd always loved being a sharp shooter. It gave him a sense of exhilaration and power being able to take down enemy from far away while they couldn't touch him.
       "Carson!" Lieutenant Jackson yelled at him from the seat across from him. "Wake up jack ass! We're almost to the scouting point!" Levi stirred, snapping his head up.
       "Yes ma'am! Awake ma'am!" The Lance Corporal looked to his left and saw the ground flying by below them start to slow as the Pelican began to prepare to unload its troops. A female voice came from the speaker above his head.
       "It looks clear, I'm bringin' us down! You should be right on top of the construction site!" The ground slowed to a stop and began to come closer. It was green, with a lot of foliage around. That might complicate things for the builders of the base, as the uprooting of trees in the area would have to commence before construction could begin on the structure.
       The Pelican came to an altitude of roughly fifteen feet and released the magnetic locks on the Warthog it was carrying. Even before the all-terrain vehicle had stopped its movement from its fall, the Pelican was lowering farther to unload its Marines a few meters away. "Touchdown!" the speaker sounded again.
       Since Carson was on the farthest seat outside, he was on point when the Marines jumped out. He rose with speed, leaping a few feet out, and landing with a crouch. His assault rifle came up, sweeping the area for a full second, then he stood and jogged forward a few yards, giving the others room to exit the dropship. After the last Marine's feet hit the ground, the Pelican rose high above the ground, fired its thrusters, and flew out of sight.
       Levi finished his visual sweep of the area and turned his head to the LT. "All clear!" he said.
       The woman nodded. "All right Marines, set up a parameter! Ford, man the LAAG on the Warthog! Carson, you're shotgun. We may need that sniper scope. I'm driving. Engage orders!" Instantly the Marines moved to their tasks.
       The Lance Corporal leaped into the passenger seat and saw that third squad was now unloading as well a few meters away, their Warthog already deployed. He un-slung the S2 sniper rifle and clamped it in between his legs butt down. Jackson stepped up to the driver's seat, starting the engine with a comforting roar. She slammed the accelerator to the floor, causing the Warthog's tires to spin for a flash before getting a grip on the dirt, sending the vehicle forward with a jerk. Levi looked at Jackson in time to see a smile appear on her lips. She was just enjoying her job, like any of them, but he couldn't keep a single thought from entering his head. Woman drivers.
***
       The assault boat doors opened, spilling several Marines onto the ground, assault rifles scanning the area. Since most of the troops stationed at Beta Base came down via assault boats, there weren't near enough Pelicans to transport troops to the construction points. Therefore, some of the assault boats themselves were dispatched to transport Marines to the construction sites. The problem was that they couldn't carry Warthogs, which meant that the transports themselves were going to have to stay and do the wide recon, using up more fuel than necessary. Since the recon by the assault boats had to be done from the air, they were assigned to the more flat areas with less foliage.
       Lieutenant Tony Salvador was one of the unlucky Marines assigned to those areas. No foliage meant no shade, and most likely a desert. He was right. It was a desert. And it was hot. Hot enough to remind him of Mexico. Home. Salvador instantly brought himself back to where he was. "Marines! Set up a parameter! Nelson, take Creigor and make a two hundred meter sweep of the area!" he shouted to his team.
       "Yes Sir! Creigor! Take my right!" the two Marines trotted off. Salvador ordered his team to fan out and sweep the immediate area while they waited for the short recon to establish. As soon as the duo returned, the Marines made a large perimeter around the future construction site of the base while they waited for aerial recon come in. It was only a matter of time before they would have the whole area secured and ready for construction.
       Nevertheless, the LT was taking no chances. A few quick trenches were dug, not big enough to bother the actual construction of the base, but enough to offer his men at least some sort of protection. There was no cover here whatsoever. "At least this particular site will make a good air base," Salvador thought. "Though it might be vulnerable to a swift surprise attack." He would have to mention that to the constructors when he was being relieved. Recon returned and reported a negative. "Nothing happinin' out there LT." Nelson said.
       "Good." Replied the lieutenant. "Take the spot in between Hutch and Charlie. Creigor, move to the outside with him!" Within a few minutes the assault boats returned and also reported a negative, although the pilot mentioned that the assault boats weren't exactly designed for recon. The boat headed back to beta base and left the Marines sweating in the hot sun. Despite the heat, the squad would have to stay there for several hours to guard the site until construction and relief arrived. It was going to be a very long day.
***
       Tremaine's flaming comet form floated above the Victor's far left projector. The combination of orange, maroon and crimson light up a full meter around her, increasing the appearance of fire. This AI had always been very useful, from this battle to the next, keeping the Captain's expectations up. She had never let them down.
       It had been six hours since construction had began on the first of sixteen carefully designed bases. The Marines had been digging constantly for Charlie base, the one that was far underground, while an airbase was being constructed in a small desert, designated Bravo. There were three main jungles on the ring which spread for several square kilometers each. He was placing a small base in the largest one, naming it Echo. It was a good location. Small roadways were being cut for Warthogs and Scorpions and the top of the base was flat, being good installments for airpower. Another base, Sparta, was being created at the "south" end of the ring, where most of the snow was. Many more bases were already under construction, and within fifteen minutes the last four would be under production as well. Soon they would be ready.
***
       Miles underneath the Marines treading feet, tan flesh moved slightly. A mass of bodies, endlessly circling each other, were impatient. A steady drone of buzzing sounds filled the air of the small room in which the monstrosities were contained. They could feel the humans above them. They could feel the voices, the movement, the life, unsuspecting and slowly drawing ever closer to them. They wanted out. They had waited many a millennia to escape, and yet still they must wait. Humans, men and woman of the UNSC, drew closer, oblivious to what lay in store for them. Still the bodies of dead flesh waited. Hungry.

Instalation Zero Six-Chapter 3:Searches of the Covenant
Date: 15 September 2006, 4:32 am

       Fleet Master Huta Fumamee stared at a large video display, showing a dark green planet with bright yellow near its center. The planet they were approaching. The ten half-dozen boarding craft he had ordered the launch of earlier could be seen visually now, descending onto the planet's only large city along with five flights of ten Seraph fighters and nine flights of Banshee's. Two of the boarding craft were particularly protected by large numbers, holding the battle group's dozen pairs of Hunters. A third was also well-protected, directly in the center of the formation, transporting the three special individuals Fumamee had sent to the surface: Yuthru Rummamee, a Ship Master just below him, second in the chain of command, and a Sangheili' that the Fleet Master liked. He was there to negotiate with another Elite on the surface. A particular Elite, one known to be traitorous to his kind, an individual who was said to know far more than he should, more than the prophets wanted him to. Perhaps something about the other Halos. And that was why Fumamee's forces now descended on a planet of Covenant rebels, preparing to find the Halos in the glory of all speed. Also onboard was Yura Ujamamee, a very useful assassin that Fumamee had kept a secret. He had the greatest of combat skills, was as stealthful as the wind, and the greatest living asset he had in his fleet. Last and also the least was an Elite named Uta Lummamee, one who was there simply to observe and record, his combat skills considerably lower than average. He was a mere assistant on the bridge, not one of any real value.
       A com channel opened at communications, and the Elite standing there looked at it for a moment and turned to Fumamee. "A transmission from the planet surface Fleet Master." Said he.
       "Run it through." The Elite reached forward and activated it, opening a light monitor next to the Fleet Master's face. Standing before him in miniature size was the cross-armed form of a tall Elite, clothed in dark blue armor, so dark that is was almost black. The being spoke quickly, thankfully saving a bit more of Fumamee's precious time.
       "What presence do you have here Fleet Master? This is an intrusion of our exile life. Your prophets will have your head when they hear what you have done. You may be powerful, but we have great power of our own, and if you continue your way, we shall be forced to defend ourselves. Answer quick! Your forces shall go down farther than they intend if they enter our atmosphere." Fumamee laughed loudly.
       "My orders are vague, but they come straight from the Prophets themselves. What have you to say for yourself betrayer of your brethren? We do not come to fight. We wish to negotiate with one of the individuals on your planet for some information." As Fumamee spoke, another com opened up. That would be Field Master Fura Rudamee reporting on his battalion's enter into the atmosphere. "If you resist we shall simply take what we want, either way works. My troops could use the practice."
       The Elite's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Negotiate? For information? With whom do you wish to speak?"
       "That will be answered by my representative coming to you now. I warn you of attack on my forces. They will not hesitate to use the assets that they have taken."
       The Elites appeared to grow in anger. "One does not take sixty boarding craft and fourteen combat aircraft flights to negotiate for information." He said. "You cannot do this."
       "Oh but I will." Said Huta. "Security is essential. And it may be necessary to take control of your capital city in order to secure peaceful and uneventful completion of the negotiation. Do not respond. You may reserve all other questions for my representative when he arrives. Now if you will excuse the absence of my contact, I have things to do." He then ended the transmission and entered the other. The image of a slightly stocky but powerful looking Elite was inserted into Fumamee's display. A Human would not have noticed the difference. Field Master Fura Rudamee was in a craft glowing with red infrared lights, Grunts and Jackals in the background speaking in hushed tones, clinging to the sides of the boarding craft.
       "We have entered the atmosphere Master, and are preparing for landing on the city structures. Any word yet from the locals?"
       "Yes." Fumamee replied. "They are suspicious and frightened, but that is to be expected. Be prepared for any ambushes. There should be no danger to such a large group, but surprises could be in wait. Have a quarter of the Seraphs and Banshees fly ahead to the dropzones in order to secure. Then allow two drop ships to enter, the Hunters next, and continue randomly after that. This should be fairly easy Field Master Rudamee. Do NOT let it ruin my day. We will burn the city if we must."
       "Very good Fleet Master."
***
       Tremaine's comet-like appearance bobbed above a projector in Beta base. She was not really there, it was a transmission from the Victor, but she could communicate with the ground troops below easily enough. Now she spoke to Sergeant Conner, who stood beside Major Carter, current leader of ground forces on The Ring and resident of Beta base. "Sparta base had some trouble with the cold, getting the permacrete to dry correctly, but the Marines pulled through with some adaptation, and the base is completed now. Bravo was of course easy to complete and the first to finish, around 089:44 on the mission clock. Echo is nearing completion as well, though it is taking a tremendous amount of work to clear pathways through the trees. It has an estimated nine hours remaining until completion time. As for Charlie base, we don't expect to finish her for another week at most. It's not only the digging that is hard, but the equipment and walls are difficult to put in as well. Anyway all in all, things are going excellent. Alpha, Delta, Primary, Basis, Sidewinder, and Kevin bases are all a few hours from completion, and things are still secure. Research has begun, and will increase as each base is completed, especially Charlie."
       Nicoli stepped forward. "What about Reach? Are we going to send the Victor back to tell them about this or what? There is obviously no threat here, we have no need of her."
       The comet turned red and turned to face the Commander. "Captain Ferald realizes this Commander, but he is wary of the fact that the Covenant could trace us here and appear out of slipspace anytime, and he wants to be sure that our presence here is strong before leaving."
       "The explanation is sufficient Tremaine. Anything else you want to add?"
       "No Commander, nothing at all. Things are silent on the Ring so far, and no events are imminent."
       "Very well. Inform the Captain that my forces can get anywhere on the Ring fairly quick for how big it is. Meeting adjourned."
***
       Inside the small purple canopy of the Covenant boarding craft, there was a sense of blindness. The craft had no windows, the friction it was built for did not allow it, and therefore troops inside had only the floor to stare at, never knowing whether or not they would explode in the next few moments.
       Field Master Rudamee felt a strong jerk as the Covenant boarding craft slammed into the city walls, throwing all thirty Covenant roughly in the direction of the craft's front as their momentum stopped. There was a split second of peace, then an explosion as charges on the boarding craft's nose blew an opening through the city wall. The doors opened, and Rudamee charged into the city halls, directly behind a blue-armored Elite and a trio of Grunts. Half a dozen Jackals and other troops were right behind him.
       Six of the boarding craft had already landed here, therefore the zone was very obviously clear. However, they were in a treacherous and hostile zone; everyone had weapons in their claws. Rudamme held a plasma rifle in his hands, plus a pistol and a light sword clipped to his belt. He swept the hall with his weapon, but found only a pair of Jackals with rifles at their ears. His troops flooded the area.
       The Field Master turned to the blue Elite at his side. "Take the group and patrol the city. If anything looks out of order, kill it." The rookie grinned and ran off eagerly, signaling the group to follow him. With barely a half-second interval, a comlink at Field Master Rudamee's belt beeped at him persistently. He brought it to his face and clicked it on. "Yes?"
       "It is Gutaree, Field Master, and I will be brief. Four Hunters are currently in control of engineering, as well as half a battle group. We are in complete control of the city's power supply. Other battle groups are pressing to take residence areas, space defense control, the barracks, and the Command Center. All other parts of the city will be ours soon. That is all."
       "Thank you Gutaree, well done. You may notify Fleet Master Rumammee." The Elite ended the transmission and spent the next several units to arrive at and secure the Command area. Twelve Jackals guarded the hatch leading into the city's Command, and yet eight was what he had last heard. They had increased their security. Interesting, but not anywhere near fearsome, especially considering that the Field Master was backed by half a battle group, including six Hunters.
       Rudamee arrived at the same time the Fleet Master's three representatives did, all four of them walking ahead of their group's to speak to the guards. He noted that Uta Lummamee hung back farther than the others. Coward.
       The rebel Jackals were in a tight formation, holding ignited shields and light spears against the two approaching groups. The Covenant forces stopped near to the door. "Open, in the name of the Prophets." Rudamee ordered. The leading Jackal stepped forward and brought his light spear to bear on him.
       "You cannot pass." Replied the vulture-like creature. "We have been ordered to keep you out of the Command Center, for our leader is very disturbed by your presence here. You have stolen already half of our city in just several units. He has decided not to see you. Our security troops are being sent to relieve yours from their positions. You may return to your ship and speak to our leader then. If you choose a different path, your forces will be engaged." There was a moment of silence, as the Field Master failed to believe that the rebel leader was this incapable in realizing that he was not in control. Then, in one quick motion, he clubbed the lower creature to the ground with his plasma rifle and ignited the light sword in the other hand. All in the same fluid motion, he thrust the close-combat weapon into the fallen Jackals chest. The remaining Jackals gave gawking bird calls and attacked him. However, he was a very efficient soldier and swordsman, and parried their blows with ease. Their shields slowed his attacks, but provided he had infinite time, they were no match for his skill. When four Jackals remained, they hesitated, as if they were previously oblivious to the fact that they had no chance. Rudammee waited a moment, then looked at Yura and gestured to the survivors. The assassin turned into a black-armored blur, a blur that past the Jackals at the same moment they died. All four of their bodies dropped to the deck, headless.
       Rudammee nodded with respect to the powerful assassin as he stepped back, then studied the door. A minor obstacle. He signaled for the group to step back, then gestured to the foremost pair of Hunters. They both began charging their fuel rod cannons, bubbling green spheres of energy, collecting at the tip of their weapons. They both fired twice, and the door simply ceased to exist. Pieces of metal, stained a glowing green, were flung backwards at the group's feet. The eerily neon green explosion ripped the door apart, cracking it like a mirror, then flinging the individual pieces everywhere.
       Without hesitation, the Field Master strode into the Command Center, shocked technicians staring at the troops spilling in. The leader stood in the center, frozen in shock but with all four jaws clenched. The Field Master reached the Elite and stopped before him. The leader studied the other with fear, the all black assassin behind him, the red-armored Ship Master, a Plasma Rifle in one hand, the assistant there as well, holding a documentary cube and studying the carnage without the slightest bit of emotion, then the Field Master, powerfully built, eyes full of merciless judgment, an ignited light sword in his claws. "Now rebel, we will discuss the location of a particular individual you have in custody."
***
       The Jackal was old. Very old, its skin shriveled and gray. The beak was chipped and cracked, chapped skin jaggedly spreading over the beak. Field Master Fura Rudamee sneered in disgust, doubting that any Jackal could live that long. "So where is he?" the Elite asked, anxious to be finished with this pathetic being.
       "Sharacole?The Crazy Young One? We are almost there Field Master, so have patience, and you may be rewarded.
       "Do not speak wisdom to me misbegotten Maridocol, Traitor to Your Bretheren, I have heard enough from your kind for one day." Apparently the particular Elite which required the Fleet's attention was well known amongst the rebels, as past incidents connected to the rebel apparently had been rather explosive. The Elite was named "Tura Quagomee", otherwise known as Sharacole, "The Crazy Young One", for he was considered indeed, insane, speaking of horrors in the dark, artifacts of power being forgotten, and random articles not worth mentioning. However, this insane lowly being was probably the best lead the battle group had to any of the other Halos. But such thoughts were not Rudamee's place.
       They finally reached the cell, cell number I-680. "Open it." Rudamee ordered the Jackal. It complied without comment, then stepped back. The three purple sections of the cell door opened simultaneously, exposing a mostly naked withered thing, its look being a disgrace to the Elite race. The Field Master turned to the old Jackal. "This is him?" It nodded. "Then your work is done." The Jackal's cheek quivered for a moment, in doubt of whether or not to leave. Rudamee lifted his plasma rifle and shot him twice in the face. The Jackal's head nearly disappeared, being reduced to a charred remnant. Even before its body had hit the floor, Rudamee had turned away to approach the Elite within.
       It was watching him, and upon seeing the quick and emotionless murder of the cellkeeper, it had sat up and backed more against the wall, its left eye and jaws twitching. Pathetic being. Fura couldn't help thinking.
       He stood above the slightly cowering Elite, waiting a moment for more fear to enter him. Then he spoke. "I am Field Master Fura Rudamee, under service of Fleet Master Huta Fumamee of the Covenant Prophets searching for the Great Journey. We are here because you have some information in your head that can lead us to what we seek." A moment passed before the prisoner, Quagomee, smiled gleefully.
       "You search for the glorious Halo, yes?"
       The Field Master again cringed in disgust. This fool talked like a Grunt. "Perhaps." He said. "But that is not for you to know. What you DO know are some special coordinates for a certain planet. My Master would like to have them."
       "Promise to take me with you."
       "What?" asked the tall one. He could not imagine why this creature wished to come with those that he had betrayed.
       "Keep me in a cell, that is fine, but take me with you to Halo. Or I will never give you the coordinates." Rudamee fell silent for a moment, then agreed.
       "Yes. On my word it shall be done." The Elite was persistent, and gestured to Uta Lumamee beside him, taking notes in his cube.
       "Swear on his life." The caution of this prisoner annoyed Rudamee. There was no way he would do as this creature asked.
       "I swear on his life." He spat quickly. "Now tell me the coordinates to that planet!" The prisoner smiled again, and flattened his scant and dirty loin cloth.
       "VS-3046-2C." He said slowly.
       "Good." Said Rudamee. He turned to Lumamee. "Document that." Then he turned to the prisoner, who was starting to stand. And beat him down with his plasma rifle, similarly to the way he had clubbed down the guard Jackal back at the command entrance. Once again, he ignited his plasma sword.
       "What?" said Quagomee. "No! You said that you would—" The sentence was never completed as the weapon pierced his chest, leaving a gaping expression on his face, unable to breathe. Then his left arm was hacked from his torso.
       Rudamee stepped back to watch for a moment as a pool of purple blood spread from the body, which fell forward towards the middle of the cell. Then without warning, he turned and beheaded Lumamee, catching the documentary cube before it fell from the Elite's claw's and leaving the body to fall near the prisoner's. A lower ranking Elite near to him watched the body in confusion. "Field Master?"
       "I swore on his life." Rudamee stepped over the body and shoved the cube into the Elite's chest. "Take this back to The Illumination and give it personally to Fleet Master Fumamee. And mention that Uta Lumamee was killed in action while your at it. The prisoner got a hold of a weapon and killed him." He stepped down the hall to leave the city.
***

Instalation Zero Six-Chapter 4 : Extermination of Renegade
Date: 11 November 2006, 5:26 am

       Field Master Fura Rudamee stepped into the gravity well of the Phantom dropship waiting for him, letting it suck him into it's belly, arriving on the deck surrounded by light blue armoured Elites. Without hesitation he walked forward and sat in the passenger seat nearest to the cockpit. He keyed the comm in his helmet. "Let's go." He said. He keyed it off and watched the other Elites sit as well just before a jerk of movement started the Phantom home. Through a video display, he watched Seraphs and Banshee's strafe the city, burning oval-shaped buildings, Phantoms and dropships also floating nearby, relentlessly destroying rebel structures. Troops loyal to the Covenant were instructed to fall back to their dropships and return to space, but hundreds of firefights were now underway, resulting in difficult movement.
       Nearly bored, he zoomed in on a fight between two Covenant Hunters and close to forty rebels. The Hunter on the left fired a green blob from the fuel rod cannon it held at a charging Elite with a plasma sword while its blood brother concentrated on the bulk of the force, destroying files of Grunts. The sword-wielding Elite foolishly reached the first Hunter and leaped several meters into the air, slashing at the Hunter's head as it passed. The Hunter growled and ducked, extending the blades on its back at the same time. The blade of hardened plasma scraped against its helmet lightly, but doing no damage other than a scratch while the spines caught the Elite full force, bringing down the energy shields greatly. The Hunter began turning as the Elite landed lightly and made a run for the Hunter, perhaps hoping to get a shot for its exposed back, but it was too late. While the bond brother moved to protect the first Hunter's flank, it leaped forward suddenly, swinging its great shield into the Elite before it had a chance to change direction. With the energy shields in their lowered state, the Elite was dead before it had completely reversed its motion. The body exploded purple blood in all directions, soaking the Hunter and cut in half a dozen shredded pieces. A thrill and proud feeling of exhilaration rushed through the Field Master, proud of his powerful warriors. The Hunter turned back to the main group, its bond brother stepping away, no longer needing to cover his partner. Together they moved forward, firing many times and blowing bodies into the air. As the Rebels ran, they were slaughtered.
       The Field Master clicked off the display with a smile. It was such great intelligence and strength that he needed in his group, the working together to guard flanks, the ease of killing a commander, slaughtering their own kind without emotion. Such qualities made the perfect warriors. He would be sure to find those two Hunters and personally transfer them directly under his command.
       He turned to watch the other Elites, watching for signs of emotion, a hint of weakness or strength. Improvement was a constant for him. One Elite twitched as the gaze passed over him. Rudamee shot him in the face.
       As the head fell to hang carelessly low, several Elites looked on with horror, but most didn't even flinch. "Make room for the strong." The Field Master replied to them. Most nodded, but several continued to stare at the blacked body in disbelief. Rudamee nodded to the others, which in turn shot the horrified Elites several times. There was a moment of silence before Rudamee spoke. "They fell bravely, so we brought their bodies to burn properly and remember." His Elites nodded again.
***
       The Hunter Ugadi Ruso Kartu and his bond brother Ogidu Ruso Fizu stood before the carnage before them. What a fool that Elite swordsman had been, charging desperately at two Hunters like that. Such weakness and idiocy was what the rebels were.
       But now was not the time to ponder such things. They needed a way out of the city. Less than four units away was the nearest Phantom, which unquestionably was their best way out of the city. Kartu began jogging silently towards the general direction of the Phantom, Fizu following without a word. They had barely gone half of a unit when a frantic sounding firefight could be heard, and it took little more time than two units to reach it.
       Before them laid three rebel Shades positioned in the middle of the street connecting to an intersection. On either side of the street was a small rise, each side also topped with a Shade. In between the Shade on the left of the street and the middle one was a circle of Elite's, all firing plasma rifles and carbons at the Covenant squad across the intersection. Also on the side of the rebels were two files of Grunts, mirroring the Elites on the other side of the street, firing an arsenal of needlers and plasma pistols. Besides those groups, there were two Jackals, four more Elites, and twelve more Grunts, as well as a wide barrier of portable shields.
       Beyond the rebels was the other side of the intersection, consisting of two Covenant Shades and eight Elites, plus twenty Jackals and a small party of Grunts scurrying all over the battlefield, waving their arms in panic. The smart and veteran ones were throwing Plasma grenades or firing their weapons, while the panicked cowards were cut down quickly.
       Surprisingly, the enemy had their backs to the Hunters, who took advantage of their enemy's stupidity and lack of recon. The bond brothers crept to within a few units of distance without being noticed. Kartu nodded to his bond brother and they both simultaneously began to charge their fuel rod cannons. The alien had thought that the rebels would turn on them at the noise, but surprisingly, the charge of the cannons could not be heard over the din of firing plasma rifles, discharging overdriven plasma pistols, detonating plasma grenades, the steady thumping of Shade turrets, or the explosion of thousands of Needle projectiles.
       Thus, two out of five rebel shade turrets were blown away instantly, green blobs of contained plasma shredding away metal and flesh alike, both the former and latter melting away even for seconds after the powerful fuel rod cannon shots died away. Next instantly in the sights of both Hunters were a group of Elites and two files of Grunts. Fizu fired first, his giant raindrop of energy dead-on the mark, contacting the ground directly in the center of the group of Grunts he aimed for. A lime-green explosion engulfed the stocky beings and threw their burned corpses thirty units into the air. Even before the bodies hit the ground, seconds after they had transcended the physical, Kartu fired his own second shot from his weapon, the watery plasma traveling to a circle of rebel Elites, just beginning to turn toward the new source of incoming fire.
       As the outburst of plasma flared-up, there was a split second of which the Elites seemed to be impervious statues, where their shields flared blue to protect them. And for that split second, they had their second chance. The shields failed under the power, armor sizzling and contracting, crushing the bodies they were meant to protect, giant boils rising on burned skin, deceased Sangheili flying in all directions.
       What remained of the rebel group turned toward the Hunters, one of the Elites left over finding a charging Hunter scarcely half a unit from him, its bond brother blowing away a third shade on the left rise. The shield mounted on Kartu's left shoulder smashed the Elite's body full force, hundreds of bones shattering as the body sailed two dozen units away.
       Without hesitation, the Hunter lifted his protective shield against the nearest remaining Shade. Fortunately, both the remaining Shades were nearly in a line to him, so he could block both of the turrets at once, though not for long. He strafed left to put the nearest turret in between himself and the far Shade, keeping the latter from firing on him without hitting his friend.
       With the appearance of the two Hunters, the Covenant warriors regained a sense of valor and charged forward, firing at the second Shade, which in turn was forced to ignore Fizu and concentrate it's force on the group approaching.
       The turret firing at Kartu was unfortunately quite powerful, not like human projectiles which usually simply bounced off. The blows slammed into the shield, forcing Kartu to use his full strength to keep steady. Even still, he was forced slowly backward.
       The Shade was a problem, but as long as the shade was there it would continue to keep him pinned. However, he knew that in a moment his bond brother would once again have his fuel cannon charged, and he would be able to take care of the troublesome weapon. True to his bond brother, Fizu ignored the Shade slaughtering the other Covenant and aimed his shot at the one firing at Kartu and let loose the moment his weapon was stimulated. The super-heated beam of green plasma hit near the top of the Shade, killing the gunner and slagging the turret's barrel, sending it flipping end over end at three rotations per second. The now-flaming junk hit the ground again across the intersecting roads, sixty units down the street, landing on the remainder of its third leg, screeching in friction, a large array of sparks leaping out as a result. As the piercing sound was just beginning, Fizu fired another blast of deadly lime at the second Shade, just turning to shift fire from the other Covenant to Fizu. The bolt shamelessly hit directly in the center, melting half of it and sending it sliding with out spin or altitude. The turret slid across the intersection at a great speed, crushing four Covenant Grunts, finally hitting the rise on the other side and gaining several units of height and impacting a building, crushing through the wall and exploding within. The two remaining rebel Jackals and few Grunts the Fizu left to the squad, which had weapons better suited to spread-out infantry work. The mix of races cut down the rebels easily, splashing the street in stains of purple gore.
       Kartu marched over to his bond brother. "Well done." He said respectfully. "And good team work." Fizu nodded without speaking and started their continued parallel jog through the streets.
       The apparent Elite in charge of the squad saw the Hunters leaving and shouted at them. "Hold! We must keep together!" But the Hunters ignored him.
***
       Fleet Master Huta Fumammee watched several battle scenes on the planet through a dozen different light display screens in front of him. The one he watched the most, however, was the slightly zoomed in live picture of Seraphs and Banshees firing at the city, burning buildings and cutting down rebel troops and civilians alike.
       He felt fairly proud of his troops. With minimal casualties, his battle group had single-handedly destroyed the second greatest rebel threat to the Prophets, as well as obtaining the information that they needed. They had taken the city so fast, and so efficiently that the giant Plasma torpedo launchers protecting the city from cruisers never got off a single shot because their power plants were taken and destroyed before any of the rebels could activate them.
       Now, there was no battle. His troops were slaughtering the renegade Covenant, driving them into holes and then blowing up the holes around them, the very ones that they pathetically crawled into for protection. It was pure play, but as long as the renegades did not know it, they would continue to fight, which struck the Fleet Master as both ironic and humorous.
       Impatience however, was getting the better of him. He wanted to leave this place, arrive at Halo with all speed, in glory and contribution to the Prophets cause. His place in the Great Journey would be high indeed.
       Play would be soon over. As soon as the dropships, boarding craft, and Phantoms returned he would have his fleet glass the city and head to the coordinates found. Taking time to glass the entire planet would be pointless and time-consuming, as most of the rebels were in the city, and any who were not would not add up to be enough to be an annoyance any longer.
       He turned towards the sound of opening doors, finding Field Master Fura Rudamee entering the bridge, flanked by the Ship Master Yuthru Rummamee, and the black-armoured assassin Yura Ujammee. His gaze dropped to the Elite's right claws, holding a documentary cube. He smiled. The coordinates. One step closer to Halo. He thought with a feeling of exhilaration filling his chest.
       Fumammee could not say he disliked the cruel Field Master, for the same type of strategic cruelty ran through his own head. The greatest emotion he had for Rudamee was respect. Though accused of killing his own troops and lying to let it pass, he had a superior record of success, never having lost a battle. Fumammee believed the rumors that he killed his own troops and lied, but he knew that the Field Master did it for the best of his own survival. If he continued to kill weak troops and transfer strong and cruel ones under his direct command, he could eventually have the most powerful squad in the whole of the Covenant.
       Fumammee used the same technique, many Masters did, Fleet, Ship, and Field alike, but in a different way. As Fleet Master, Fumammee did not need a reason to transfer better troops to guard him. He could simply fill out a few digital forms and have the troops reporting to him in less then forty time-units. Therefore, he didn't have to kill his own troops to get better soldiers.
       As Rudamee reached Fumammee at the top of the ramp, he and Yura Ujammee knelt before him, head bowing quickly and popping back up again. "Excellency." He replied, holding out the documentary cube. "The coordinates and a few notes taken by Uta Lummamee, who was killed in action while negotiating with the prisoner."
       Fumammee nodded, not questioning the Field Master, but still knowing the truth. "Thank you Field Master. You may leave to conclude the battle in the city. Report to me when you have done so." He then nodded to Yuthru Rummamee, who, serving the position of Ship Master onboard the fleet's flagship and being in second command of the fleet, had no need for a such formality as kneeling before his superior. "Rummamee, you will assist in battle orders as necessary. You may now take your place." He gestured to the command display.
       Rummamee nodded. "Very good Excellency." He moved past them and began to study displays like he had been doing it all day. The Fleet Master liked this ability of Rummamee's to switch modes quickly as battle required. It was why he was second in command, and why he would recommend to the Prophets that the Elite be promoted to Fleet Master. "Field Master Fura Rudamee, you are dismissed." He said, slipping his hands behind his back.
       The Elite rose. "Very good Excellency." He turned to leave, gesturing to Ujammee, who also rose to leave with him.
       "The assassin may remain Field Master, thank you for your concern." The Fleet Master said sharply.
       Rudamee looked at him in a short-lived surprise, then nodded. "As you order, Excellency." He turned to leave.
       As soon as the Field Master left the bridge, Fumammee allowed Ujammee to rise and study the displays with him.
       "Do you know your purpose here assassin?" the Fleet Master asked him. The Elite turned from staring at the displays to speak to the Fleet Master directly.
       "To protect and to kill, Excellency. Protect greater staff, of such importance as yourself, and to kill whoever I am ordered to." He turned back to the displays, as if he had recited a poem by memory.
       "'Whoever'?" the Fleet Master said.
       "Yes. As your usual troops can handle the usual enemy, I am here to kill any unusual enemy."
       The statement was true and perfectly spoken. The Fleet Master nodded. "Does any of this bother your mind?"
       Ujammee turned to the Elite in surprise. "Killing? Of course not, I have killed all my life."
       "No." said the other. "Does it bother you that that is your only task, perhaps forever to be?"
       The assassin's surprise died away, his expression returned to that of a quiet but formidable warrior. "No Excellency, not at all. My purpose is both meaningful and understandable. I am honored to be given this task. The Great Journey will reward me at the end."
       Fumammee nodded again. He knew that it was probably a lie, for the assassin was far too closely self controlled to speak truth to a Fleet Master about any strange thoughts, but that was enough for the higher authority. Ujammee was effective, and had no trace of betrayal in his mind. That was enough.
***
       Far below the Command Center for The Illumination, the first flight of Seraph fighters had returned from the rebel planet, no longer needed. The fighters powered down, Elite pilots closing down power and weapon systems, shutting down the fighters and leaving the hanger to report to their superior officers. Less than half a unit after the hanger was deserted, one of the Seraph fighters opened, a ramp lowering to the Covenant metal. A shadowy man-shaped figure darted down it and moved to the side, where it again raised the ramp with the flip of a switch. The shadow moved silently across the bay, halfway out when another ramp to another Seraph fighter began to lower itself.
       The Shadow cursed silently and moved behind several cargo containers, watching as a straggler Elite pilot jogged down the ramp and started for the exit. The shadow waited until the pilot had his back to him before bolting noiselessly across the bay, closing the distance rapidly. As the pilot exited the hanger, he noticed that the doors which closed behind him took a moment longer to closer than normal.
       Before he could turn around however, the figure grabbed the pilot's abdomen and stabbed into his neck with a piece of silver metal, jerking across and slicing open its windpipe. The pilot never had time for a death cry.
       The Elite which had just murdered his brethren dropped the body and licked the purple blood off its claws. Now in the light, the Elite was no longer a shadow, naked rather, and literally, but for the small dirty loin cloth around its waist, which he flattened as best he could. Tura Quagomee picked up the Elite body and slung it across its back, marching gleefully into the nearest storage area, throwing the body into the airlock of an empty methane living cylinder for the Grunts, who would be blamed for the murder. In the far back, he found a large box for himself, where he would wait for the Covenant to foolishly find and land on Halo.
       The Prophets had no idea what Halo really contained, no idea at all. If this battle group where to land there, all life in the galaxy could easily fall, as the cruisers would provide the monstrosities with firepower and transportation. But that no longer mattered to the insane Elite, for as he realized, the Covenant could not be stopped in their search for "The Great Journey", a utopia which Tura now knew to be fictional.
       He pressed a cloth against his now-missing left arm, chopped off by that bastard, Field Master Rudamee. Quagomee hoped that they would meet again. Only next time, he would be much stronger.
***
       The Elite at the Phantom's controls was impatient, hoping to leave soon, as any threat in the area was currently eliminated. When the commanding Elite and his squad arrived, the pilot had expected to be ordered to leave as soon as possible, but surprisingly, he was annoyingly told to wait. Apparently they had seen a small band of Covenant troops fighting in one of the streets, but other engagements had not allowed them to enter combat.
       Several units passed before the troops inside the Phantom saw a pair of Hunters emerge from one of the side streets. A quick glance confirmed that they were a part of the Covenant. The Hunters jogged casually over to the Phantom, as if they had plenty of time to spare, closing the distance quickly nonetheless.
       When they finally reached the Phantom's belly, the pilot activated the gravity lift and waited for them to step inside its beam. The lift was then deactivated in the same unit that they hit the dropship's deck. The commanding Elite took a step forward, but quickly took it back as the first Hunter began to rise, towering above him. Ugadi Ruso Kartu stood to his full height, black armor glowing softly in the purple light, stretching his neck before returning to the typical Hunter slouch.
       The Elite's awe died quickly, and he stepped forward again, asking a quick question, but instead of answering quickly, Kartu first turned to his bond brother Ogidu Ruso Fizu. Their eyes met, a sense of acknowledgement registering. Kartu turned back to the Elite and shook his massive head. "There were no others." He said. "We leave now." Then he turned to stand in the back of the Phantom with his bond brother.
***
       Fleet Master Huta Fummamee watched a light monitor with thoughtful eyes. His gaze penetrated the image, producing possible threats and ambushes, getting the big picture, something he needed to do in order to be a Fleet Master. But this was a sort of practice for him. There was no threat here, nearly all hostiles had been eliminated, save two large battle groups which had split to opposite sides of the rebel city, fighting bravely against the Covenant. Bravely, but not wisely. Thought Fummamee. So far the rebel tactics had not entirely disappointed him, but they were entirely composed of brave charges and heroic attempts to do enough damage to the Covenant to make them withdraw.
       Now, with the order to all Covenant troops to return to the fleet in space, the rebels actually thought they were winning. Ha! Huta couldn't help thinking as their slaughter grew closer. What fools. What pitiful fools. On the monitor, the last of the dropships were being escorted back into space by a flight of Banshees. Another showed the last of the Serephs remaining on the planet as well, firing a few more cannon blasts at the cities last forces before turning to leave.
       Minutes passed, but the Fleet Master's posture did not change. "Excellency!" a nearby Elite barked rather timidly. The Fleet Master turned to face him. "All dropships and Banshees are on board, Excellency. There is one flight of Serephs making a final recon run before returning. They will be back onboard in seven units."
       "No need for the recon, have them return now."
       There was a moment before the tech answered. "Very good Excellency. Fighters will be onboard in half a unit."
       Fummamee waited for the Seraph's to complete their landing in the docking bay before turning to face the entire bridge crew. "Open the command channel."
       "Yes Excellency."
       A light monitor opened, and quickly, one by one, twenty-five different boxes opened, each one holding the face and shoulders of a Ship Master. The Fleet Master spoke. "All ships, power down all weapons but your plasma torpedoes and move into a criss-cross formation above the planet. The exact formation is now being transmitted to your ships. Prepare to glass the planet." A few grins were visible before his orders were acknowledged, and the ships began to move. The formation was perfect within three units, and with Fummamee's mark, a hundred giant blue sun-like teardrops descended on the rebel city. "Fire at will." The Fleet Master ordered, just before switching off the command channel to his Fleet.
       On the view screen, buildings crumpled, fell, turned to dust, and vaporized. Water sources converted to steam. Black craters appeared where streets and plants had been before. As targets of opportunity lessened, the fleet, staying in perfect circular formation, began to turn by radians, covering the entire city beneath them in flame.
       Minutes passed as the fleet relentlessly unleashed furies of flame upon the planet, extending beyond the city for hundreds of kilometers, the dust being so thick that it clouded even powerful visual cameras from space. Then, finally, with a single word spoken from the Fleet Master's four jaws, the barrage stopped. Like water from a tap, the last great blast hit the planet and faded, leaving a sudden peace across the planet's charred surface. Units continued to tick off as the global dust began to slowly clear. Each cruiser stayed in its spot, in perfect formation, awaiting orders and watching the dust settle, revealing the blackened earth beneath it. Where the city had been twenty units before, only a black series of craters remained.
       The Fleet Master spoke again. "Ship Master."
       "Yes, Excellency." Yuthru Rummamee answered, facing his superior.
       "Enter our new coordinates into the command channel and feed them to the fleet. We are going to our next step to finding Halo."
       "Very good Excellency." As the Ship Master's claws danced lightly, a silence set over the bridge. There was no task, nothing to do, and only the Ship Master himself was concentrated. Within half a unit, twenty-five acknowledgements came from the combined cruisers, destroyers, and frigates. As the whale-shaped ships glided away from the planet surface, Fummamee took pride in the fact that no-one questioned why they did not stay to glass the entire planet, why they left early, the job not even half-done. Better than his last crew.
       "Leaping into Slipspace in one quarter unit, Excellancy." Rummamee replied. The Fleet Master mentally acknowledged the information, but did not respond, his reptilian eyes probing the monitor. There was a shudder, leaving the bridge dark as the twenty-five Covenant ships jumped, leaving behind the wretched system, populated no more.
***
       "Scanning. All Covenant ships have entered Slipspace Commander. The transmission we intercepted on their command channel before has been interpreted and confirmed. They're headed towards Damascus III Sir." The voice that spoke came from the lips of a beautiful but harsh Lieutenant, seated at the station for scanners.
       "Shit." Came from a man standing directly to her left. Commander Roy Kigar, a rather young, red-haired, brilliant stealth tactician, better at hiding than at fighting. Not really what counted, which is why he had spent the majority of his military career so far as an ONI spook, until it bored him to death, his sense of duty propelling him to request work closer to danger and closer to actually saving lives. But he had been stationed aboard one more damned stealth ship, this one a frigate.
       The frigate he now commanded was called the Silent Eye, and true to its name, it had the best stealth cloaking and observation equipment the UNSC had to offer. The downside was, it was almost useless in a fight. It had no MAC, minimal Archer missile pods, and only two HAVOC nukes. It did have a single SHIVA nuke aboard as well, but its real purpose was not for use against Covenant cruisers, but for the Covenant city which had just been obliterated.
       Ironically, the fact that the city had been full of rebels had been something which the crew of the Silent Eye had been oblivious to until an hour before it was invaded, when plans to a possible assassination attempt was insecurely transmitted from the planet surface to a small ship in space. Now they would never find out what the whole deal was with that enormous city.
       But they had bigger problems than that. Damascus III was surly about to be invaded. Set just behind two of the outermost Human colonies left, the Covenant would surly find the other two worlds, and more lives would be destroyed. They had to do something. But FLEETCOM was out of range, and their puny, practically weaponless ship couldn't help any. Having retrieved what they wanted, possibly the planet coordinates, the Covenant fleet had glassed the city and jump out of system, headed directly for Damascus.
       "Orders Sir?" asked the navigations officer, Lieutenant Kay.
       Commander Kigar responded slowly, leaning towards a monitor. "Follow them. Bring reactors to eighty percent. Move out from the planet's shadow and position ourselves for a jump to Damascus III. And figure out if there's any way that we can contact FLEETCOM, too. We'll need help. Lots of help." Minutes ticked away as his crew worked to bring his orders to reality. Sluggishly, the frigate chugged out of the shadow of the planet, the bright light from the system's sun panning slowly across the frigate's bow.
       A sudden thought hit Commander Kigar's mind. "Too slow lieutenant, bring reactors to 110 percent." The Covenant ships were fast. The clock was already ticking, had been ticking, and they would need every second if anyone on Damascus III was going to live.
       "Affirmative Commander. Running reactors at 110 percent, maximum power. Velocity increasing. Reaching jump point in four minutes, thirteen seconds."
       "Thank you lieutenant." The Commander acknowledged. He then directed his attention to a hologram projector next to him. "Reaper." He said. A purple-blue haze appeared above the projector for a moment, then stabilized into the image of a sly-looking fox, data scrolling across its body.
       The ship's AI, "Reaper", was four years old and had seen plenty of action from the sidelines. Starting as a useful ONI artificial intelligence, he had been switched to combat programming because of the lack of space combat AIs. His memory had been nearly entirely erased for ONI safety. Reaper had known a lot that the ONI didn't want out, to the Covenant or the Humans.
       The AI had a weird sense to him. He had a personality, and for an AI, quite an ego. His confidence in his calculations and tactics was not usually annoying, but always consistent and sometimes even comforting when in tight situations. He changed his appearance regularly, but most of the time he chose the image of a sleek and beautiful-looking fox, the image which he chose now.
       The data on the fox's body switched directions, and the AI's color turned a dark orange. "Yes Commander?" The fox said. Despite the grim situation, Kigar gave a brief smile. He would never get used to seeing the animal talk.
       "We're going to Damascus. Make jump calculations and prepare anything we need to in order to make this jump." He checked the countdown ticking on the display on his right. "ETA to jump point is in thr—".
       "Three minutes, fourteen seconds." The AI finished. "I can take it from here Commander. Calculating. Reaper out." Three minutes and thirty seconds later, the Silent Eye jumped after the Covenant fleet toward the planet Damascus III, God have mercy on their souls.

Instalation Zero Six-Chapter Five: Calm Before the Storm
Date: 12 January 2007, 5:35 am

       A silent sort of brooding was on the bridge of the Silent Eye, the throbbing of the engines and the click of techs typing at their stations. It had been a day since they had leaped from the rebel system, traveling at maximum speed through slipspace to Damascus III. During the trip, the bridge personnel with nothing to do were assigned with Commander Kigar to figure out a strategy against the Covenant once they jumped back into real space. It was pure impossible to beat them. There was sure to be no more than six ships at the planet, and even with the defense system there, there was no way that they could hold back twenty-six Covenant ships.
       The planet defense was their greatest advantage. Kigar knew the planet well enough, and pulled all the files he had on the system. The entire planet of Damascus III was surrounded by a large and extremely dense asteroid field. There were many openings in the field of course, but most were too small to even fit a cruiser or destroyer through. Some of the largest openings could probably allow the Covenant frigates to trickle in one-by-one, single file, but doing such would take a very long time. The largest opening was the main entrance and pretty much the only way in, unless the Covenant wanted to take a few days to get in and out. The thing that might make them think twice about entering through the main entrance was the single Super MAC gun station floating there, rightfully titled Duran's Gate, named after the commander of the ship that built the station, directly in the center and commanding the entire pass.
       Everyone knew the story of the MAC super guns now, and they had a record of being the best weapon against the Covenant, destroying any ship on a single impact. Super conductive linear accelerator coils larger than a UNSC cruiser were used as the MAC's firing mechanism. The weapons could fire a three-thousand-ton super-dense ferric tungsten shell right through a Covenant cruiser. They were the most powerful non-nuclear weapon in the entire UNSC's arsenal. Now it may be the only thing that could delay the Covenant long enough to raise FLEETCOM and get help.
       Lieutenant Kay spoke from the navigations consol. "Commander. We are passing the halfway point to the Damascus system in fourteen seconds."
       The Commander responded gratefully. "Thank you lieutenant, keep me posted."
       "Sir."
       Honestly, it would have helped a whole lot more if they could figure out exactly where they were coming out of slipspace, but unfortunately for the Humans, their jumps were not that precise. They varied by hundreds of kilometers. They could warp next to the Covenant fleet, or they could come out a half hour's distance away from it. The best they could do was hope, and figure out a way to use the Silent Eye's single SHIVA nuke to slow down and destroy as many Covenant ships as possible.
       The SHIVA was really the only option. The HAVOC nukes could do some damage as well, but they could use both HAVOC's on a single Covenant frigate and it might still not destroy it, while a SHIVA was certain to destroy even a cruiser. It was their best hope.
       "Nine hours to real space Sir." Said Lieutenant Kay.
***
       "Tremaine, show the schematics." Captain Ferald ordered, opening one of the five projectors on The Victor's bridge for the detailed 3D plans.
       "Uploading to you now Sir." The AI responded. A purplish blue flash appeared above the projector, transforming into a small shipyard, two square kilometers large. One fourth of the plans were highlighted, the part that was already finished. "I'm afraid that despite our preparation Sir, our lack of actual construction-based ships is making this operation difficult."
       The Captain responded in kind. "I know Tremaine, but it will be worth it all when completed. I figure that if I have all this useful equipment on my ship, I might as well use it instead of losing it all when we get hit with three plasma torpedoes."
       "A valid point Sir. On average, 80 percent of the equipment and Marines onboard cruisers are not even used. The cruisers are destroyed before they have a chance to deploy them."
       "And this is the entire reason we have all this stuff. To build things like this. Now if we keep it up, we can finish this within the next month or two. Depending on how things go, The Victor will jump to Reach when it is half way done. If the problems stay down, the shipyard could be finished and halfway done with a frigate by the time we return. I'll be throwing that in the Admiral's faces."
       "Good luck when that time comes Sir. I have no doubt that our superiors will readily begin to create a second Reach here. Super MAC platforms, training bases, shipyards, the whole of a space-built military base."
       "I'm glad. Our works here should win the Human race some hope back."
       "Semper Fi, Sir."
***
       The bridge of the Illumination was obstreperous. The busy techs talking back and forth were finishing final preparations for the leap back to real space. The countdown was half a unit. Now was the time that the Elite Fleet Master named Huta Fummamee began to expand his chest in anticipation of this final step. If he was correct, soon they would be on their way to Halo.
       "A third of a unit from real space, Excellency."
       "Very good." Fummamee responded. He waited, counting the time mentally in his head, watching the currently black view screen for the first glimpse of the system, hoping for quick entry.
       "Reverting to real space now." The tech said, entering keys that would pull them back to normal speeds. With a suddenness, the atmosphere in the bridge changed, stomachs giving a pulling sensation before the moment passed. "We are currently in real space, Excellency. Powering up systems now." The view screen first showed stars, then a large asteroid field. Fummamee's eyes glittered as they greedily searched for the planet that held their key prize. All eyes searched the maps and monitors for it, but however, none found the prize.
       Time passed. A chill followed Fummamee's back. Did we go to the wrong place? He thought. The wrong direction? It's not here! Where is it?
       "We found it, Excellency." A tech nearby said. Relief flooded into the Fleet Master, filling him again with leadership and will.
       "Where is it?" he demanded.
       "Inside of the asteroid field Excellency. The entire planet is surrounded by it. The density of the field blocked sensors at first, but it is now visible and confirmed as the planet that the Humans call Damascus."
       Fummamee glanced at the sensors and saw for himself the connection, but here was a problem as well. "How do the Humans get through the asteroid field?" He asked. "More importantly, how do we get inside? Don't tell me that no cruisers can enter."
       "Of course, Excellency. Their route will be ours. There are several openings in the field all the way around, but most are too small to allow even a single destroyer to enter through, let alone a cruiser. Even a frigate would have to be perfectly aligned in order to pass."
       "I would rather not trickle in single file. It would take days just to organize and perfectly align the files. What's our best option?"
       "Our only option is to enter through this gap." The tech brought up the image of a large hole in the field. "Three destroyers at a time can enter with out breaking formation, and with the right combination of frigates, destroyers, and cruisers, we can be inside quickly. The problem is that this hole is on the other side of the system. We are going to have to orbit the entire system if we are going to enter there."
       Fummamee cursed. More delays. "But the main problem is this." The tech spoke again, bringing the image of a Human station in the center of the hole. "This is a type E-2 Human station, one of their projectile weapons that have been the most effective against our shields. In other battles, it has been proven that no ship, Human or Covenant, has survived even a single projectile fired from one of these stations."
       For the second time, a chill entered Fummamee's spine. Of course he knew about the stations. Which was why he grew uncertain. He could not linger here. But if they entered, they would surely lose several ships, maybe even cruisers. This was a very unfortunate turn of events. The defense was far too perfect, probably the best defense possible. It would be hard to keep casualties to a minimum.
       "Start the orbit. Prepare to power down and take a series of precise in-system jumps around the asteroid field." Fummamee ordered. "And continue scanning through the asteroids. Find out what kinds of defenses the Humans have inside of the field at the planet itself. I want five frigates to break off from the main fleet, align themselves to whatever holes they can find, and enter. Order them to regroup once inside the field and then begin to wreak as much havoc as possible. Have them try to draw the station's fire and make it turn to fire in-system. We will organize our main fleet just outside of the station's range."
       "Very good Excellency."
***
The command bridge of Duran's Gate, Super MAC station defending Damascus III.        Commander Wi Ting had had an easy day. No ships were due to leave, and they only had one inbound destroyer due to arrive in forty minutes, it being the only curfew for the day. Still, he kept his crew working hard. Damascus III was one of the outermost colonies, blessed with a superb defense system. He was in charge of that defense, and he was not about to let it fall to the Covenant on his watch. Most of his boring 10 hours on duty were spent strolling about the station's bridge to keep the crew on their toes and at their consoles. Now he finally exhaled deeply. His day was about to end, one more day with his world still intact.
       "Commander Ting Sir!" The shout for attention came from a sensors lieutenant, slight panic in his voice. Ting stiffened tightly and turned to bring him into his vision.
       "Yes Lieutenant?"
       "There's a fleet of Covenant ships coming out of a slip space stream on the far side of the system!" The entire bridge froze. The Commander's body went cold, his chin dropping to his neck. With a start, he recovered his leadership.
       He walked quickly over to the station, talking as he went. "How many?"
       "AI counts twenty-five ships Sir!"
       The Commander began sweating profusely. "What types?" he asked, leaning over the display.
       "One assault carrier flagship Sir! Six cruisers, eight destroyers, and ten frigates!"
       Ting now knew that if he paused, they would all die. He walked to the center of the command bridge, shouting orders. "Communications! Contact the Damascus power generator station for Duran's Gate. Tell them to activate the generators immediately and send us power. Also contact the three frigates in-system and tell them we are coming under Covenant attack and to rendezvous with Duran's Gate immediately! Then contact FLEETCOM and tell them our situation. Get as much help here as you can." He then turned back to Sensors. "Lieutenant, is the destroyer due in-bound?"
       The tech was sweating, hitting keys with shaking fingers. "Yes Sir, it entered the Damascus system nine minutes ago. Due to arrive in one hour. Oh damn, damn, they'll never make it in time!"
       Commander Ting barked sharply at him. "Stow it Lieutenant! They'll make it!" He turned back to Communications. "Contact that destroyer and give them our situation as well. Tell them to set maximum burn and arrive here as soon as possible!"
       "Making it happen Sir!"
       "That's what I want to hear. Remote Defense, activate the power and unlock safeties on the nuclear mines set in the other openings in the asteroid field. Prepare to detonate if any Covenant ships attempt to enter."
       "Yes Sir! Powering up mines and unlocking safeties Sir!"
       The Communications station at that point caught his attention again. "Sir! Damascus is activating power generators! Full power should be online in twenty seconds! FLEETCOM is online, they wish to speak with you privately!"
       With frustration, the Commander stepped forward to take the call. Couldn't command see what was happening? Millions of lives glassed if they didn't get help? He grabbed the com from the lieutenant roughly, instructing him to continue working on his next objective in his orders.
       While watching the view screen, currently showing a command Admiral, he placed the hearing set in his ear, and bringing the com to his lips, he spoke. "Commander Ting, Sir." The deep voice of the Admiral entered his ears.
       "Son, from what I hear, you are currently under a large Covenant assault, correct?"
       "That is correct, Sir. And I pray that you can give us all the support you have. We have the best defense system for almost any non-military planet, but we cannot hold back this force. As we speak, twenty-five Covenant ships are converging on—"
       "I know." The admiral cut him off, then paused for a moment, seemingly rather heated. "Perhaps you didn't get the FLEETCOM message sent to all human ships twenty-six hours ago."
       Commander Ting's jaw dropping in disbelief, wondering what all this delay was. "No Sir, we didn't. We are a MAC station, not a ship."
       "Yes, but we sent it to anyone who could have heard. Perhaps the asteroid field prevented the message connection."
       "Unlikely Sir, we have a communications array set outside of the asteroid field for long-distance messages. Perhaps a Covenant vessel prevented the message deployment."
       "It doesn't matter now." The admiral spoke coldly, his tone almost menacing. "Commander, Reach has been glassed." At that time, Ting nearly swooned. He leaned against the wall.
       "G-glassed, Sir?" he stuttered weakly, his lower lip trembling.
       "Yes, glassed. The MAC stations there were destroyed. The ship yards were blown to debris. The 114 UNSC ships there at the time were slaughtered. The 53 ships that arrived later fought hard with the survivors, but were beat down quickly. Only a handful of ships, no more than four escaped destruction. One cruiser, The Pillar of Autumn, was seen heading out-system at the end of the battle, but no one knows of its fate. It has been designated Missing In Action but most likely destroyed. The other three, all heavily damaged destroyers, jumped to several different points before arriving at Earth to tell the tale. We are now pulling all UNSC ships back to Earth to defend it. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but you are on your own. Even if we had ships to spare, it would be all over by the time help arrived. We ask that you load as many civilians onboard the ships you have and to make for Earth, initiation of the Cole Protocol necessary, of course."
       An overwhelming sense of despair filled Ting, but he attempted to stand straight, set an example for his crew, to keep hope alive.
       Communications interrupted at that point, giving information. "Sir, inbound destroyer is making maximum speed, reactors at 120 percent. They'll be here in fourteen minutes Sir."
       "Very good Lieutenant." The Commander said, putting a hand on his shoulder for a moment before turning back to the view screen. He spoke to the admiral. "Sir, are you suggesting that we abandon four million people to be glassed while our ships run to our safe little home world?" he said through clenched teeth.
       "No Commander, I'm ordering you to man your station, destroy as many Covenant ships as possible, and to tell your ships to take onboard as many people as possible to transport to what is probably the most dangerous place in the universe for a human right now, to help defend a far greater number of lives from a much larger force. I'm sorry Commander, but what we need the most of right now is sacrifice. The only way to save the Human race is to sacrifice lives to fight against this threat. Again, I am truly sorry for this, I don't like it any better. Human lives are not worthless, and the only reason we could ever do this is the reason before us: Earth is at risk, and we have to put the greatest number of lives first. Is that clear to you?"
       With an understanding that Ting never thought he would reach, he began to realize what was about to happen and what was at stake. He didn't like it, he hated it, but he had to obey his orders: he had to sacrifice millions of people to save Earth. "It is clear Sir."
       "Good. Then listen one more time: you have to keep this from the crew about to fight. Tell them reinforcements are on the way, a massive armada is nearby, anything to keep up their hope. You have to keep them fighting. Are we understood?"
       The Commander nodded. "Understood Sir. I will do the best I can."
       "Thank you Commander, and good luck. Sacrifice is what is needed now, and you are giving up the most sacrifice. I respect you for that."
       "One more thing before we part, Sir. I understand why you have ordered what you have ordered, and I know that it is the right thing. That said, you are a bastard, leaving millions of people to die like this. All the others leading the UNSC are bastards too, and they will all burn in hell for this. Good luck defending Earth. I hope the Grunts rip you apart alive." He ended the transmission abruptly in the admiral's face. What he had just done was something no real soldier did, would dream of doing, but in their current position, death in their faces, it was the only time such a thing would happen.
       The Commander marched back to the center of the bridge, addressing the whole crew. "Good news! Reach is sending 70 ships to our aid, along with forty Spartans! They'll be here within ninety-three minutes! Looks like we'll live through this after all! All we have to do is destroy as many Covenant ships as possible in order to delay them long enough for the fleet on spoke to arrive!"
       As the crew whooped and cheered, joyfully preparing for battle, the Commander stepped outside of the bridge for a moment and did something he hadn't done since he was ten. With no one watching, he put his face in his hands and cried.

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