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All Roads Lead To Sol...Unless Stated Otherwise: Chapter 1
Date: 12 June 2003, 10:55 PM

Section 1: Unless Stated Otherwise
Chapter 1

2000 Hours, March 16, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
151st Street, Downtown New York
Earth

The busy street took Manny by surprise as he stepped out into the cold night air. Locking the door behind him, he made off down to his right, passing a group of Chinese women who seemed like they were up to no good. As he passed them, one of them mumbled something to him. He ignored them and carried on his way. It was the first night he'd had out in three months; the rigorous training he was being put through hadn't taken its toll yet, but the two-day leave he had been granted showed him how hectic his life had been since he enrolled.
He ran his fingers through his sandy hair, letting the cool air pass through it. It felt good just walking at his own pace, no one barking orders at him, no one to answer to every time he did something he shouldn't have, and best of all, no need to wear a uniform. Though most active army personnel wore their dress uniforms on leave, he had decided that it wasn't for him. He didn't want people asking him about the war, or had he seen any action. And it would be embarrassing to him to have to say "Sorry, I'm a cadet."
The super-scrapers above him made him feel at home again. He had grown up down here in the heart of New York. He arched his neck and looked up at the towering monoliths, focusing on the neon lights littering the sky as poster-blimps rolled passed, advertising off-world opportunities. The skywalk, which he was ambling down was forty stories above ground, but the blimps were way too high for him to read. Reaching an elevator, he tapped the "down" button and heard a voice say "the elevator is on level forty-nine and shall be proceeding to levels forty-five, forty-four and forty-two before reaching this designated floor."
Manny took no notice of it and leaned back against the metal railing that stopped people from falling off the skywalk. People passed through the space between him and the lift doors, and as he watched the stream of people buzz by he began to daydream.
He had joined up to the UNSC last year because of his brothers death a month prior. His parents had been devastated, proud but devastated. Being their only child now, Manny felt it his duty to take up where his brother left off. And had the training not been going so tough, he would have been proud to be serving. At the tender age of 19, Manny had dropped out of college to take up his brother's reigns. The only difference was, his brother had become some what of a hero in their parents eyes, and Manny felt like he wouldn't be able to live up to their expectations.
He yawned and ran a hand across his chin. It shocked him to feel a substantial amount of stubble there. He had shaved every day for the passed three months, as regulations permitted, but the regime hadn't stuck when he came back to New York. He was here to let his hair down, have a good time. New York was a time for partying, boot camp was a time for rules and regs. The lift chimed from across the walkway and the lift doors slid open to reveal a single, lone female.
At first, Manny was taken aback by how beautiful she was. She had long brown hair down to her stomach, piercing brown eyes and darkly tanned skin. A small, button nose sat neatly above her red lips, and the angles of her face made her that more stunning. She wore a long blue dress that accentuated her curvy figure, and he noticed ample cleavage bobbing out over the slit in the dresses front. One thing he also noticed was that she was staring right at him. She smiled as recognition finally settled into Manny's brain.
"Well, you gonna get in or shall I keep going down?" she said, her voice low but incredibly sexy.
Manny chuckled and winded around the passers-by into the lift. He came to stop in front of her and couldn't help but take in her smell.
"Wow!" he said. She smiled at him and leant forwards to push the lift buttons, brushing her naked arm against his as she did so. The movement, probably totally innocent from the woman sent tingles down his spine. The woman's name was Sarah McCain, a trainee at his boot camp. He had always thought she was good looking, but had never seen her in anything other than a vest and combats. They had chatted a few times, but nothing too serious.
He had kept himself to himself over the three month period and had chatted little. In fact, he didn't really have any real friends at the camp, only people he chatted to regularly, so his comment must have sounded a little too friendly. But she seemed to bat the comment away as if it were nothing. The lift started to move down as the two settled back against the lift wall.
"So what are you doing here?" she asked. She turned to look at him, leaning against the lift wall with her arms crossed over her chest, lightly pushing her cleavage out that little bit more.
"I live here." He replied, trying to concentrate on her face, as oppose to her breasts. "Have done all my life."
"Really? I thought you were from Detroit." She smiled. "I never knew you lived up here. I thought only the rich people lived around here." The comment stung a little, but he let it go.
"What do you mean? Who said I wasn't rich?" he put on an expression of mock anger, then eased into a smile.
"No, no," she shook her head "I meant you didn't look the type."
"Looks can be deceiving. I mean, just look at you." He looked down as he said it, not wanting to look her in the eye, then realised what a state he must look. He wore a white t-shirt and a pair of old jeans and trainers. He didn't exactly look at his best, but she hadn't said anything yet.
"Yeah, I noticed." She paused and looked him up and down. "So, where you headed?"
"Just out, find bar, have a few drinks." The lift stopped suddenly and two men in suits got in. They spotted Sarah straight away, looking her up and down, giving approving looks. Of course the looks turned to one of obvious disgust when they saw him. He ignored then and turned back to Sarah. "What are you doing here? I didn't know you lived here either."
"I live on the forty-second floor, flat number seven. Me and a couple of old friends bought it a few years ago."
"You must have a lot of money to do that." He exclaimed. She was only one year his senior, so it was either rich parents or one hell of an inheritance.
"Yeah, our parents got it for us. All we have to do is pay cleaning costs and electricity supplies. How about you?" she shifted her weight, and Manny could have sworn she slightly shuffled towards him. "You a spoiled little rich boy, or have you been working double shifts since you were twelve?"
He chuckled at the comment. "No, it belongs to my folks."
"You live with your parents still?" she seemed taken aback.
"No, nothing like that." He laughed again, then grinned at her. "My parents left it for me when they moved out. They live out down town now." She nodded an acknowledgement and giggled to herself. "So where you off to?"
"Well, a few of the recruits wanted to see the nightlife around here so they checked into a hotel a few blocks down. I'm off to a bar to meet them. You're welcome to come if you want." Now that was an invitation he couldn't refuse.
"Are you sure they just didn't want to be with you?" Manny wasn't the only red-blooded male at boot camp. In fact, as far as he knew, every man on campus had taken a liking to her, even the drill instructor.
"Well, considering that there are only two men, and four girls, no." she grinned at him, showing off a little gap in between her front teeth. Normally, that may have put him off, but it added to her beauty in more ways than he imagined.
"Okay, I retract that statement!" he said, laughing as he did. They fell silent as the lift halted and the two suited men stepped out into the night air. The lift chimed again and continued its decent. He looked around the lift. It was one of the smaller lifts in the building. He didn't like the big ones, it got too cramped and he hated places with lots of people.
The lift was big enough for ten people, and was brightly lit by an overhead light. The walls and the inside of the doors were mirrored surfaces, so it made the lift look bigger than it was. As he glanced into the door he noticed Sarah staring at him. They locked eyes for a split second before she broke it away, looking down at her feet and smiling to herself.
He allowed himself a smile as well, then turned back to face her. "So, how you finding the training?" a look of disgust worked it's way across her face before she answered.
"Hell must be better than this." They both chuckled at the remark. "Does the drill sergeant have to be that much of an ass hole?"
"I think he goes easy on you. He hates me!" Manny said. The lift came to a halt again and the door opened to the bustling streets. "This is our stop." He put out his arm and offered her to go first, to which she obliged and calmly walked out of the small space and into the fresh air. Manny got a great look from behind as her buttocks moved up and down. God, she was lovely!
"You coming?" she turned back to him, and nearly caught him staring at her posterior. He smiled at her and stepped out of the lift. She motioned to her left and they started down the long street. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and exhaled deeply. As he did so, he was surprised to feel her slip her arm between his, resting it on the top of his wrist. His arm muscles tightened for a split second.
He'd always had a girlfriend or someone he was seeing, and he felt comfortable around women just as much as he did with men, but Sarah wasn't like other women.
"Training's okay, I suppose," she continued. "It's tough, but I suppose it has to be, to get us ready for what is to come. We're in the middle of a war, one which looks like we may not win." Her face looked sad. She stared down at the concrete pavement for a second then looked up at him and smiled.
"Yeah, it's tough. But I don't think this is a war we're going to lose. I mean, we can't. It's the human race, for Christ's sake, we ain't giving up without a fight." Manny felt her move closer to him as she tightened her grip on his forearm. She rested her other hand on his bicep, and lightly stroked it with her thumb. The sensation sent his heart pounding and he felt dizzy with excitement.
He flexed his muscles a few times then relaxed as they moved up their pace. Manny was tall, but skinny. Not skinny in a horrible way, but he wasn't overly big. There was no fat on his body, and he liked to think he was a nice shape. He was by no means weak, and had been in fights with guys twice his size and won.
They strolled in silence down the road, letting the busy street pass around them. Cars of all sorts buzzed by; cabs, lorries, and vehicles of various shapes and sizes passed by, zipping away into the night. Manny missed being home. When he was a kid he and his friend, Dobby, used to race their scooters down this road when it was quiet. They had been caught a few times by the police for under-age driving, but that had never stopped them. The thought brought back a lot of memories, both good and bad. He pushed them to one side.
"Why do people call you Manny?" Sarah piped up. It was easy to hear her through the hustle and bustle of the passers-by.
"Why?" the question made him think for a second. He had been called Manny since he was five. "Well, my name is Jon Manors. I suppose it came from there. It's a childhood nickname, one my friends gave me." He glanced at her. She wore a look of amusement. "Didn't you ever have a nickname when you were young?"
"No, I was just plain old Sarah, sorry." They slowed to a stop. "Well, here we are." He looked at the bar to his right. Above the door a big, blue neon sign read "Callers". It was a bit dingy looking, and the place seemed to be buzzing with atmosphere.
"Callers? Man, this is like my regular bar." Another rush of memories came flooding back, this time all good, some a little hazy.
"Really?" Sarah said "I never been here, I normally go to Lacey's back up the other way."
"Now that is upper class!" he exclaimed. She slapped him lightly on the chest. They stepped into the bar and the familiar smell of smoke and alcohol filled Manny's nostrils. Tables and chairs scattered the walls and the bar was lined with people of all shapes and sizes. They neared the bar and settled into a small gap. Manny rested his elbow on the bar, allowing Sarah's hand to slip down to her side. She glanced around, looking for her friends. The first thing that went through Manny's mind was that she would hate this place, but she had a discreet smile on her face as her eyes roamed the establishment.
"Hey!" a loud booming voice came from behind him. "Didn't you read the sign?!" Manny whipped around and saw a huge barrel of a man closing in on him from behind the bar. The man was tall, fat and ugly. His face was one of anger and his vest was grubby from what looked like years without being washed. "It says no losers!" the man moved closer, coming to a halt in front of him. Manny looked over his shoulder and saw an expression of shock and fear on Sarah's face. He allowed himself a small moment of satisfaction.
"Yeah?" he bellowed back. "Well, it should read no tramps, in which case you wouldn't be here!" as he said this the patrons standing near him took a step back, obviously expecting the small man to get his head trampled on by the whale behind the bar. He heard a gasp from Sarah, and saw another woman nearby cover her eyes. The two men locked eyes.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Unless Stated Otherwise: Chapter 2
Date: 12 June 2003, 10:58 PM

Chapter 2

2030 Hours, March 16, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
151st Street, Downtown New York
Earth

Then they both reared back in laughter as the bigger man reached over the bar and nearly pulled Manny over it as he gave him a huge bear hug. Manny wrapped his arms around the other man's shoulders, slapping his back as he did so.
"I thought you were at boot camp you snotty nosed brat!" the barman said. He released Manny and let him slip down back to the ground.
"I'm on leave for a couple of days, so I thought I'd come and see how this dive is doing!" the bigger man laughed at the comment.
"How's the army treating ya?" the barman boomed. "You turned gay yet from showering with other men?" a grin lined the bottom half of his face and he rested his hands on the taps in front of him.
"Good, but it's tiring." He grinned back at the older man. "How's business?"
"As good as could be expected, I suppose." The comment was a joke. Callers had always been one of the most well-known bars in this part of New York and it was never short of customers. "What'll it be pal?"
"The usual, please, Tank." He said, then realised he had completely forgotten about Sarah. He turned around and saw she was standing with a bemused look on her face behind him. "Oh, Tank, I'd like you to meet someone." He pulled her forwards to the bar. "Sarah, this is Pete "the Tank" Bucannan. Pete, this is Sarah." Tank wiped his hand down his already dirty vest and stretched it out across the bar. Sarah paused for a second, then took his hand. He shook it gently, then released her.
"Hello there, little lady." Manny didn't think Tank's smile couldn't get any bigger but it did. "So, you Jonny boys new love, eh?"
"No," Manny exclaimed, and shot him an evil stare. "She is at boot camp with me." Sarah chuckled.
"Pleased to meet you Tank." She said, nodding in his direction, then shooting Manny a sly grin.
"What would you like to drink?" Tank asked. "Anything you want, I can get ya!"
"I'll have a beer please." Manny took a step back and stared at her in bewilderment.
"A beer? Don't you want a glass of wine or something?" she shot him a look of disgust and whacked him in the stomach. Tank chuckled and ambled off down to the other end of the bar.
"What?" Manny exclaimed. He grinned at her, as she stepped up to the bar.
"A glass of wine? I'm not the upper-class rich bitch you obviously think I am." The tone in her voice matched the angry look on her face.
"I didn't mean it like that, I'm sorry." He widened his grin. She smiled gently at him, looking deep into his eyes. She leant close to him and moved her lips up to his ear.
"I know you didn't." she lingered for a moment then moved back to face the bar. Tank appeared a moment later with two frothy glasses of an amber coloured liquid. The glasses were surprisingly clean, betraying the dirty barman. He winked at them both. Manny reached for his back pocket but Tank held a hand out.
"C'mon, kid. You know you ain't gotta pay me!" Manny checked the motion and picked up one of the beers, handing it to Sarah.
"I'm gonna go see if I can spot our friends." She said, sipping at her glass. She brushed his arm with her hand and moved away from the bar and into the crowds beyond. Manny found himself staring after her, then shook his head and turned back to the bar.
"So where'd you pick her up?" Tank said, a sly grin on his face.
"I didn't pick her up anywhere. It just so happens that she lives two floors above me." Tank whistled.
"She must be loaded!"
"Hey, I live up there ya know!" many said. He sipped his beer, allowing the cool liquid to slide down his throat. The bitter taste caught in his throat and he closed his eyes in pleasure. He gulped down some more and felt the potency kick in. It was the first drink he'd had for three months and it tasted good.
"She's really something, Jon. You got yourself a good'un."
"Hey, we're just friends." Manny replied. He took a few more deep gulps of the beer then set it down on the bar.
"Hell, you said that about Sandra, and you nearly ended up marrying her four months later!" his comment was followed by a deep belly laugh.
"Yeah, well that was a long time ago!" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a smallish cubic box. He flipped the top open and withdrew a cigarette. Placing the packet back in his pocket, he pulled the safety strip off and tapped it against the bar, igniting the stick. He placed it in his mouth and took a long pull on it. He inhaled, taking it in, then breathed out again, letting the smoke trail from his mouth.
"I thought you quit." Tank muttered.
"You try doing what I've been doing for the passed few months." He looked over at Tank.
"Well, I gotta get back to the thirsty people." Tank said, nodding towards Manny. Manny nodded back, picked up his glass and moved off into the crowds, puffing on his cigarette as he did so. It wasn't long before he noticed Sarah's dress from underneath a nearby table. It wasn't as if she stood out among the others, the mix of people in here ranged from the neat and tidy to the down right dirty. But it was like she had a presence, one he couldn't help but feel.
He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth with one hand and fed the beer into his mouth with the other as he moved over to the table where she was. She sat in the middle of two rather large men, who each had two girls either side of them. The four girls were dressed similarly to Sarah, sitting prim and proper, sipping various drinks. He recognised two of them; Tanya and Grace. Tanya had short black hair, down to her shoulders. She was pale, but attractive. Grace the complete opposite and was of African origin, dark black skin, which contrasted heavily with the pink streaks she had in her hair.
The other two ladies were sitting the other side of them; one had short blonde hair, the other had long blonde hair and he didn't recognise either of them. They must have been friends of Sarah's or something. They sat eyeing up the two lads like tigers eyeing up young deer. They were all beautiful young ladies, but none of them matched up to Sarah.
And the two men obviously thought so, too. There attention was wholly given to talking to Sarah. He recognised them both instantly; Greggs and Harris.
They were both big guys, but Greggs was more fat than muscle. He wore a plain white shirt, his belly slightly protruding from the bottom. His hair was the same sandy colour as Manny's but a little shorter. He was always smiles and laughs and Manny had warmed to him the first instance they met. He was one of the few people Manny really spoke to.
Harris, on the other hand was a different story. The man was pure muscle, and the tight black suit he wore made this all the more obvious. He hat jet black hair, closely cropped like every other male, but his seemed to have that arrogant style about it, just like the man's personality. He was handsome in a way, but his bullishness dulled it considerably. He and Manny hadn't hit it off so well. Through all the training exercises, Manny had come first, with Harris not too far behind, but whereas Manny put it down to the fact that it was mostly luck, Harris refused to say it was anything other than pure skill.
They had never exchanged a bad word, but Manny could tell the big man didn't like him. And right now, Manny couldn't help but feel the same back as Harris chatted to Sarah as if they were lovers. He brushed her leg every now and then, and sat with an arm behind her, as if to say "She's with me."
As Manny neared the table, Sarah was the first one to notice him. She looked up and smiled at him. "Hey there." She called to him. He stepped up to the table and pulled over a stool, setting it down next to Tanya. He put his glass down on the table and took a long drag on his cigarette as he sat. As he did so he couldn't help but notice all eyes turn to him.
"Hey" he said sheepishly.
"This is Jon, everybody." Sarah said. "You know Tanya, Grace and Greggs, don't you?" Manny looked at them and smiled. He got a warm grin from Tanya and a sly smile from Grace. Greggs stood up and extended a hand out to him. Manny took it and received a hard hand-shake from the man.
"How you doin' buddy?" Greggs said in a thick Australian accent. Manny winked at him and sat back down.
"You know Dan don't you?" Sarah said, motioning to Harris. The man looked disapprovingly at him, but managed a smile.
"Yes," Manny replied "we've met." Neither man went to offer a hand.
"These are my two flat mates," Sarah continued, pointing to the ladies to his right. "This is Hannah," she said, pointing to the one with the short blonde hair, "and this is Reece," he nodded politely at them. They both gave him a girlish smile, then swapped looks with each other. He couldn't help but feel their eyes on him when he turned to the other two women. As he did so, Harris and Greggs went back to talking to Sarah, and he heard Sarah's friends whisper with one another.
"So," he said, aiming his voice at Tanya and Grace. "How you finding training?"
"Tough!" Tanya replied. "It's exhausting at points as well."
"Yeah," Grace exclaimed, "Drill Sergeant Pom can be a real tight ass sometimes."
"You're doin' well though, aren't you?" Tanya said. "So far you've come top in everything!" she seemed to stare at him a little too hard. As he moved his stool forwards more so he could get into the conversation he felt her foot brush against his shin.
"Yeah, I guess so." He replied. "It's like I said, it's just luck. You guys aren't too bad yourselves." Tanya gave a sheepish smile and Grace shot him a bemused look, then broke into laughter.
"Stop bullshitting yourself." Grace barked. Manny had spoken to the two of them briefly before, but he found himself liking them more than he thought he would.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Unless Stated Otherwise: Chapter 3
Date: 12 June 2003, 10:59 PM

Chapter 3

2045 Hours, March 16, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
151st Street, Downtown New York
Earth

As the night progressed Manny found himself relaxing more and soon was chatting with all of them, with the exception of Harris. He couldn't help but notice that every now and then the bigger man would look over at him, and it wasn't a look of friendship. Greggs was generally chatting with everyone, making jokes and some such, Sarah's friends couldn't stop staring at Manny, and Grace and Tanya couldn't stop downing drinks.
The surprise of the night was that Sarah seemed to be getting more and more uncomfortable sitting next to Harris, and she seemed to be turning more and more away from him. When she tried to get out to get away from him, he'd just say "Do you want another drink?" and would run over to the bar and get her one. Every now and then she'd glance over at Manny and smile. He'd smile back but what he really wanted to do was pick her up and take her home.
"So," one of Sarah's friends turned to Manny "you live two floors below us, right?" He couldn't remember for the life of him which one was which.
"Yeah, lived there all my life." He sipped at his third beer of the night and lit up another cigarette.
"I can't believe we've never met before." She said, twiddling the straw in her drink. "I'm sure I'd remember you if I did." She winked at him and Manny felt himself turning red. He laughed and looked down at his glass.
"Yeah, I'd probably remember you, too." He swigged at his drink and puffed on his cigarette.
"I bet you would." She replied. She stared at him with puppy dog eyes and sucked on her straw. He heard a protest from Sarah as Harris insisted on buying her another drink.
"Look, I'm fine," her voice was laced with irritation.
"No your not, I'll get you another one." He said, smiling sweetly at her. He stood up and walked over to the bar. Manny followed him with his eyes. Even the man's walk was arrogant. He was surprised that no one had picked a fight with him yet, what with the way he waltzed over to the bar expecting to be served right away.
He positioned himself next to a smallish man in a grey, all-in-one bodysuit. The small man glanced at Harris, then got back to chatting with one of the bar maids. Harris tapped on the bar impatiently, glaring in turn at the bar maid then at the man next to him. Manny couldn't help but watch and allowed himself a small grin of satisfaction.
"Hey," Greggs called over "What you looking at?"
"Oh nothing." He looked over his shoulder "It just looks like Harris is just about to get his first taste of New York City life." Manny sat back against the table and watched the events unfold.




"Excuse me," Harris piped up. "Can I get some service here?" his eyes pierced the barmaid. She looked over at him, raised her eyebrows and got back to chatting with the man in the grey bodysuit. Harris felt rage flow through him. The man next to him looked like he was in his mid-forties. He wasn't a big man, but he looked like he worked out. But Harris was confident he could lay the man out if the chance came.
"HEY!" he yelled. "I wanna drink right now!" he waved a handful of credit chits, purposefully bumping into the smaller guy.
"I think you'll find," the smaller man said in a low voice. "That me and this lovely young lady are having a chat at the moment." He looked away from Harris and back to the bar lady.
"Listen, old man," Harris shouted "I am part of the UNSC Marine Corps and would like to be shown some respect." The smaller man turned to him, resting his elbow on the counter.
"You want respect, go to the military bar on fourth avenue." He turned back to the bar again. The anger in Harris was growing and he didn't have time for this fellow's rude remarks. He planted a firm hand on the man's shoulder and twisted him round to face him again.
"You want to watch what you say, old man, I have been trained to kill." Harris puffed out his chest, and stepped closer to the small male.
"I don't give a damn what you can do, I'm chatting with this young lady and I would like to be left alone." He shoved Harris's hand away and turned back to the bar. Harris almost burst with fury. He looked over at the table where Sarah and the others sat. They were all staring over at him. The girls and Greggs had a look of worry on their faces. Manny, on the other hand looked amused by it all. That made it even worse. How dare he think he can mock him! He would show him, right after he beat this old guy to a pulp.
He stepped back from the bar, grabbed the older man by the shoulder and spun him round. He pulled back his arm and released, throwing a punch to the man's face. But before he impacted the guy dodged out the way, coming up to his side. He grabbed Harris's arm and twisted it away from him, landing a clean kick to his ribs, sending him down. Harris grabbed at his chest and coughed as he fell to the floor. He winced in pain and managed to get back to his feet.
This old man was more than met the eye. He would have to be careful. He noticed that the other patrons had moved away from the scenario. He locked onto the old man again.
"That will be your only chance," Harris uttered then launched himself at the man again. He swung a left hook, but hit clean air. He felt three solid impacts to his back and a sharp kick to his right leg. He went down on one knee and grabbed at the bar to keep himself from falling over. He managed to stand up again, despite the pain and turned around. Before he could take in what was going on, the man landed a punch to his head, sending him reeling back against the bar. As he bounced off of the metal furnishing he found himself confronted with another fist. This one caught him squarely on the nose.
Pain exploded in his skull and he felt cartilage give way from the impact. He fell to the floor, landing on all fours. He felt a boot catch his side and sent him onto his back. There he lay for a few seconds, dazed and throbbing. When he managed to open up his eyes he saw the old man and Manny standing over him.
"Dan Harris?" Manny said, a grin lining his face, "I'd like you to meet my dad."

All Roads Lead To Sol...Unless Stated Otherwise: Chapter 4
Date: 12 June 2003, 11:01 PM

Chapter 4

2215 Hours, March 16, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
151st Street, Downtown New York
Earth

"So how long have you been back?" Oliver Manors gazed at his son. They sat outside Callers on one of the many benches, taking in the night air. It only been a few months since he had watched him go to boot camp, but the man before him was far from the boy he knew. Jon had been a skinny lad, but since he had last seen him, the young boy had grown into strong adult. His muscles had certainly grown and it was evident in the white t-shirt he wore. The stubble on his face made him look a lot older, too. And it reminded him of his other son, Bradley. That memory spiked pain in his heart.
"Only since this morning." Jon sucked on a cigarette and exhaled, blowing a smoke ring up into the night sky. "The flight was only a few hours but I was exhausted and went back to my apartment." He looked up at his father and smiled. The strength behind them negated the weary look he wore. Either that or he had had too much to drink.
"And you didn't think of ringing your own father?" he put on a look of dismay, then chuckled to himself.
"Well, I knew you would be coming here anyways so I thought I'd surprise you."
"What, by setting one of your friends on me?" Oliver rubbed his knuckles. It had been a long time since he had done anything like that.
"He ain't my friend, dad, he's an arrogant son of a bitch and you know I hate those types!"
"Right, right." Oliver shook his head. "So how's Pom treating ya?" he put a hand on Jon's shoulder and rubbed it. Even though he wasn't tensing it, Oliver could feel his son's shoulder muscles strength. He really was turning out to be what his brother was.
"He's an ass hole! But he is my instructor so I gotta put up with it." He glanced at his father then took another drag on his cigarette.
"He's the best there is. And he's only hard on you because he knows you're my son and Bradley's brother." He noticed his son's expression change to that of annoyance.
"Look, I know it's hard for you, but your mother and I aren't expecting you to be Bradley. He may have been a hero, but you are just as much our son as he was, and no matter what you do, we will always be proud of you, I want you to know that."
"So basically what you are saying is that even though I'll never live up to what Bradley was you'll still love me. Thanks, dad, but no thanks." He stood up and paced around.
"I didn't say that..."
"Yeah, but you might as well have!" Jon interrupted. He stopped and stared at this father.
"What is your problem?" Oliver stood and moved over to Jon. "Bradley did what he did because it was what he wanted to do, not because we wanted him to do it, but because he felt it was his duty. We couldn't have stopped him even if we wanted to."
"Yeah, but you wanted me to do the same." Jon looked into his father's eyes. "It just felt like that because he was your oldest son that what he did mattered the most, and what I did, didn't matter at all."
"How can you think that?" Oliver felt despair wash over him. "You know we wanted what was best for the both of you. You chose college, he chose service. If it had been the other way around we still would have felt the same, we are proud of both of you. Remember we are at war, this isn't about who we love the most, this is about survival. The Covenant are getting closer and closer to Earth, we both know that. And soon it won't matter what you think because we will probably all be dead."
He could tell the words hit home. Jon looked down at this feet. He flicked the remains of his cigarette on the floor and trod it out. Looking up at his father, Oliver saw even more of Bradley shine through and he felt immense price for both of them.
"I'm sorry," Jon said. "I've been angry for all the wrong reasons. It just felt at times that you loved him more than you loved me."
"Hey, try being the middle one!" Oliver laughed. He was the middle child in his family, with one older brother, one younger brother. He was never the oldest, nor was he ever the youngest, he just the middle one. Now he was the only one. With the exception of his mother, they had all died at the hands of the Covenant. He reached over to his son and hugged him.
"Right, I've had enough for one night, I'm going home." Oliver said. He kissed his son on the head. "Come and see us tomorrow." He smiled at his son.
"Yeah, I will." He grinned at his father. "Hey, thanks for teaching that idiot a lesson. And take care getting home." He hugged his father one last time and watched as the older man walked off into the night.
Manny sat back down on the bench he and his father had previously occupied and took some time to try and think about what was said. The funny thing was, the only thing that he could think about was his dad pounding Harris back in the bar. Never mess with the Manors! It was a lesson Harris had learned the hard way, but at least he learnt it.
At that moment Greggs strolled out the bar. He stumbled a bit and his eyes were glazed, but he had the same smirk on his face that he always wore. He plonked himself down next to Manny and wrapped an arm around him.
"You alright, me old mucker?" Manny could smell beer on his breath and grimaced.
"God how much have you drunk?" he exclaimed. They both laughed and settled back into the bench.
"It's closing time soon," Manny remarked "We'd better make a move."
"Why?" Greggs slurred, "You scared we gonna get mugged or sumink? From what I saw of your pa tonight, I don't have to worry about getting in a fight if he's nearby."
They were silent for a few minutes, then the others exited the bar. Tanya and Grace came out first, followed by Sarah. A few paces behind, Harris was being supported by two fairly drunk blondes. He held his broken nose, and winced in pain as he tried to breath through it. They came to stop by the bench, and Greggs and Manny stood up to go.
"Well, my ladies," Greggs said, stumbling over to Grace and Tanya. "Take me home and do as you will!" he put an arm round each of them. They nearly buckled under his weight, but managed to stay up. "Manny, my lad, I will see you later!" Manny chuckled as they walked passed him.
"See you later." He watched them wander off down the road, then turned back to the others. Harris and his two companions were slowly ambling off in the same direction. Sarah stood by the exit, leaning on the door jamb.
"Night, night, Manny wanny." The short haired blonde said, winking at him, and nearly falling over in the process. The other one waved at him from behind Harris' back as they continued off after the others. Manny watched them walk quickly down the road.
"So." Sarah said behind him. He turned round to face her, feeling an uncomfortable silence fall over them. He walked over to her and stopped just short of her. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know if she was pissed at him for letting his father lay into Harris or happy that he did so. Her face was a blank emotion. She stared into his eyes and he couldn't figure out if she was going to laugh or cry.
"So," he echoed back. They gazed at each other before he had the courage to speak again. "You want me to walk you home?" he said it to get a reaction. She'd either say yes or no. He hoped for the former, but expected the latter.
"Well, considering we live in the same building it would be stupid for you not to." She smiled at him, then turned and started back up in the opposite direction from the others. He stood for a second then rushed to catch up.
"Listen, about tonight..." he started.
"You don't have to explain Harris being a compete ass." She said. She looked over at him as they walked a few feet apart. "I'm glad actually, it got him off my back."
"Well, I'm glad to hear it." He laughed to himself. He felt her eyes on him still and couldn't help but stare at the ground, not wanting to look her in the eye. They walked in silence until they reached the elevator. He thumbed the switch and the doors parted revealing an empty lift. What happened next took him completely by surprise. As he stepped in to the lift, he felt her hands push him back against the wall. He turned around to face her and felt her lips impact on his.
They kissed for what seemed like an eternity. Her mouth was warm and her kisses were soft yet hard at the same time. He had forgotten what it was like, it had been so long. Her hands were all over him. They moved up his chest, then scratched down. She moved one hand up to his head, and pushed the other up his t-shirt, and started to grope his chest. All he could do was lean back and let it happen, he was powerless to do anything.
She withdrew for a second, slammed the 40th floor button then launched back onto him. For the whole lift ride they kissed and caressed each other. No clothes were removed, and neither of their hands went further than their waists, but just kissing her felt too good to him.
When the lift came to a stop, she moved back from him, and backed out of the lift. Her eyelids were slightly closed, and she had a sly smile on her face. He found the strength to peel himself off of the lift wall and moved out into the fresh air.
"Don't you live on the 42nd floor?" he said. It wasn't that he didn't want her to stay the night, he just wanted to see if she wanted to stay the night.
"If you want me to go, I'll go." She wore a hurt expression but he knew it was just an act. He grabbed her again and kissed her deeply. Then he took her by the hand and led her to his door. "Are you sure you can handle me?" she said, coyly.
He looked over at her. "I doubt you'll be saying that in the morning." He slid the key card through the lock and the door parted. Before he could turn and motion for her to come in, she grabbed him and forced them both into the apartment, locking her lips with his. And Manny realised this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Unless Stated Otherwise: Chapter 5
Date: 16 June 2003, 2:47 AM

Chapter 5

1000 Hours, March 17, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
149th Street, Downtown New York
Earth

Wayne Greggs awoke with a thumping headache. As he struggled to peer through sticky eyelids, he felt his brain spin full circle and felt himself fall back against the pillow.
"Ugh." He groaned, trying to figure out what he had done the previous night. He forced his eyes open and his vision blurred as he tried make out a light overhead. Leaning over to his right, he saw his clothes neatly folded on a chair nearby. "Lights off!" he yelled and the bright room was plunged into darkness. "Blinds, please" the window turned from a dark opacity, to see-through glass in a split second and sunlight poured into the room. What time was it? He sat on the edge of the bed, concentrating on no more than one movement at a time. He suddenly felt sick, and breathed deeply a few times until the feeling passed. Plucking the courage to stand, he stumbled over to his pants. Pulling on one leg, he then realised he was already wearing trousers. In fact, he was pretty much fully clothed.
His white shirt was stained with what looked like beer and was crumpled from his sleeping position. The only thing missing were his socks and shoes. Moving over to the door, he hit the switch for it to open. The plasteel door parted, opening himself up to the view of the kitchen. The flat they had rented out was small, but had everything they needed for the two-day leave. Sitting at the light-grey breakfast bar were Grace and Tanya, both showered and dressed. They sipped coffee and ate what looked like a pastry of some kind.
"Hey, there." Tanya said, her voice quiet. "How you feeling?" she beamed at him. She was an attractive young lady and he found they got along well. He didn't fancy her or anything, but he considered her a good friend.
"Well, how do I look?" he mumbled.
"Terrible!" Grace pitched in. He had always liked Grace's abrasive manor, the way she spoke her mind. He was fond of her and he could tell she was fond of him back.
"Then, I can say I look like I feel!" they laughed and he shuffled over to the breakfast bar and slid onto one of the gel-stools. As he sat down, he felt the padding beneath him change to fit his behind, to make him more comfortable. He reached out and touched the pad in the middle of the table. A list of foods scrolled down the small plasma-screen in front of him. He chose an omelette and a cup of coffee. Flicking a switch under his chair produced a thin sheet of metal that appeared behind him, and he leant back into the rest, rubbing his face as he did. A whirring wound alerted Greggs to a descending tray. He looked up and saw his breakfast coming down from the food processor on the ceiling. As the tray came to rest in front of him, Greggs felt his stomach roll over as he looked at the food.
"How much do you remember of last night?" Grace sipped at her coffee, waiting for a reply. It never came. Greggs suddenly launched himself off of the stool and ran headlong back into his bedroom where he vomited all over the floor. "Well, at least we have some idea of how much you drank!" the two women chuckled to each other as the big man leant against the door back into the kitchen.
"It's not funny." He groaned, wiping at his mouth. An emergency cleaning-bot emerged from a panel in the floor of the kitchen, zipped into the bedroom, and in seconds had cleared up the gooey patch left by Greggs. He managed to make it back to the table and rested his head in his arms, not paying attention to the food in front of him. The two ladies glanced at each other and smiled.
"We're going round to see Sarah later if you want to come." Tanya said, reaching out and patting Greggs on the back. "Fresh air might do you some good."
"I think a good long sleep will do me better!" he raised his head slightly and peered menacingly at the dark-haired woman. "Fancy joining me?" Tanya's face turned to disgust and she reared back.
"You gotta be kidding me!" she exclaimed. Greggs laughed at the comment and looked over to Grace.
"Don't even think about asking me that question, boy or you'll wish you were back in bed!" The trio laughed amongst themselves, and Greggs finally plucked up the courage to take a mouthful of his omelette. The door at the far end of the apartment opened and a tall, muscular figure stepped out. He loomed forwards, rubbing his nose with both hands. Coming to rest at the breakfast bar, he pulled up a stool, flicked the backrest switch and slid into it without making a sound. He looked at the others who had fallen silent. He didn't look mad, but he didn't look happy.
"So," Grace said "How you feeling?" she looked over to him and managed a smile, but she knew it looked out of place. He focused on her and she saw how badly bent his nose was. A bruise lined his cheek bone as well, and in the tight vest he wore, it was easy to see a slight swelling under his right arm where Manny's father had kicked him.
"I've been better." He tapped something into the pad, then sat back in his chair, inhaling sharply as if the movement hurt. "God if I run into that little..."
"You'll what?" Greggs piped up. "Get the crap beaten out of you again?" the normal happy-go-lucky exterior had been dropped all of a sudden, and Grace felt the tension rise. Harris glared over the table at the other man. Greggs held the stare for a few seconds then looked down at his cup of coffee, shaking his head as he did so. Harris carried on staring at the top of the fatter mans head, but broke it off when his tray-full of food dropped in front of him. A selection of fruits sat in a glass bowl and a glass of orange juice was situated next to it. He picked up an apple and bit into it, taking a huge chunk. There was silence for a few minutes until Tanya spoke up.
"So, when are we leaving for boot tomorrow?" she glanced around at everyone.
"We have to be back by mid-day, the sarge said." Grace replied. "That's right, ain't it?" she looked over at Greggs who nodded in agreement. He looked thoughtful for a moment as he shovelled a forkful of food into his mouth.
"So," he said around a mouthful of food, "that means we'll have to catch the jet at ten, right?" the others nodded. He swallowed and sipped at his coffee. "What are our plans for today, then?"
"Well, Tanya and I are going to see Sarah and check out her place, then I think us three are going shopping." She looked over at Greggs. "You're welcome to come." She smiled at him. He smiled back and shook his head, mouthing 'no thank you' at her. Harris didn't answer, he just munched through the bowl of fruit, and downed his orange juice before returning to the room he came from. Greggs stared after him as he exited, then got back to finishing his omelette.
They sat in silence again, each finishing their meals. Grace found herself thinking about the events that happened last night. It would be interesting to find out where Manny's dad learned to fight like that. He was either a martial arts instructor or ex-Special Forces; she suspected the latter. It would be interesting, also to find out what happened between Manny and Sarah last night. Grace couldn't but notice their affinity towards each other, despite Tanya's best efforts to get his attention. She had to admit, Manny was a good looking man. He was tall, slender and had an air about him. The way he walked, the way he carried himself, was different to everyone else, yet not noticeable. She could see why Tanya and Sarah both liked him.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Greggs leaving the table.
"Right," he exclaimed, "I'm going to have a shower and then I think I might go back to bed." He yawned and plodded off into his room. The door slid shut behind him, and the two girls were left on their own again. Tanya leaned back in her chair, folding her arms across her chest.
"Do you think they'll be alright?" she looked worryingly over at Grace.
"Who?" Grace glanced over.
"Harris and Greggs, who else?" she smirked to herself. "They seemed pretty pissed at each other." She leant forwards, and cocked her head to one side.
"It ain't nothing to do with us, sister." Grace said "If they wanna be like that to each other, let 'em do it!" she got up out of her chair and started towards her bedroom door. She stopped and looked back at Tanya. "It's a man thing, they'll sort it out. C'mon, I'll get my bag and we'll go see Sarah."




Manny awoke with a start. He found himself sitting up in bed, breathing heavily; something had woken him, a bad dream perhaps? But he couldn't figure out what. He rubbed his face and squeezed his eyes shut for a second, feeling the pull of sleep drag at his body. Glancing over at the holo-panel next to him he noticed it was nearly 10am. He fell back into the pillow and nearly fell back to sleep hadn't it been for the nagging feeling that he was very much alone. He sat up again and realised that Sarah wasn't lying next to him, as she had been a few hours prior.
Where was she? They had spent the night with each other, he remembered that much, and also something else which he definitely remembered. But had she gotten up and left? Was this just a one-night stand for her? As anger started to rise up in him, the door over the other side of the room hissed and the anger disappeared as quickly as it had come.
Standing in his dark-blue dressing gown was Sarah. The robe hung either side of her lithe figure, and he noticed she was wearing nothing other than a bra and a pair of knickers. He also noticed she was holding a metallic trey of steaming coffee and a plate full of food. She gazed over at him from the door, wearing a wide smile. As she started across the floor to the bed, Manny settled back onto one elbow and followed her with his eyes.
"I'd thought you'd left." He said, feeling his face pull into a huge grin as she sat down. She passed the tray to him, which he set down beside him.
"Do you really think I'm that kind of person?" although the question was probably meant as a joke, Manny couldn't help but notice a look of hurt on her face beneath that smile. He looked away from her and down at the tray.
"No, I just don't normally do things like that." He grabbed at the mug of coffee on the tray and sipped at it. The hot liquid scalded his tongue. As he swallowed he felt it burn his belly, waking him up a bit more. The plate on the tray consisted of what looked like Perchovian Bacon strips, fried Krillen eggs, and sausages. The reason why he knew what the food was, was mainly due to the fact that it was all he had in his fridge.
"So am I an exception?" he looked up at her. She was beautiful, even without being dressed up. She sat on the edge of his bed, leaning into it, gazing at him. It made him shiver with delight.
"Yeah, I guess you are." Suddenly his mind was consumed with thoughts of where this was going, what last night meant, and what was to come. "Listen, about last night..." before he got to finish she interrupted.
"I know what you're going to say," she said. She looked down at her feet, her smile vanishing. "It will be something along the lines of 'thanks, but I'm not ready for a relationship'. I totally understand, it's not like the first time this has happened." As she looked up at him, a hurt look covered her face and he couldn't help but feel something warm build up in him.
"I was going to say the exact opposite of that, actually." He pulled himself forwards so he was sitting next to her, and kissed her warmly on the lips. She put her arms around his shoulders as he did so, and he felt her pull him in more. They parted and sat gazing at each other for a few moments.
"Well?" she asked, leaning back from him a bit more.
"'Well' What?" he was puzzled by the question.
"What were you going to say?" she moved closer to him, and lightly kissed him on the forehead. "You were going to say the exact opposite of what I thought."
He chuckled at the remark and tried to think of what to say. He wanted to say that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, that he was falling madly in love with her, that he didn't want anyone BUT her. But saying that might make her think he was a complete loon.
"I was going to say..." he paused for a moment. "that I didn't want this to be just a one-night thing. I want to make something of this, and from you saying what you did has made me realise you want to as well." She closed her eyes and nodded, smiling.
"Yes, I do want to make something of this. I have had a thing for you since we met, and kinda had my sights set on you." She opened her eyes again. "I just thought you'd be interested in others, that's all. I mean, I have got a bit of competition." He looked at her, puzzled by her last comment. "Oh c'mon, don't tell me you haven't noticed Tanya!" he laughed out loud, falling back into his pillow again.
"Tanya? Yeah, I've noticed her, but not in that way!" he chuckled to himself. "It's funny you mention it because I could have sworn I felt her stroking my leg with her foot last night in the bar." He looked over at her and beckoned for her to come and lie next to him. She moved the tray onto the floor and snuggled up next to him. "Are you jealous?" It was a serious question, but he said it in a humorous tone. He didn't want Sarah to think he liked the attention, which he didn't.
"I was a little bit at first, when she told me she liked you at Boot Camp. But is she lying next to you now?" she looked at him and kissed him again, then rested her chin on his bare chest. "I think it's going to be the other way round when she finds out we're an item." She chuckled to herself then fell silent, looking as if she was deep in thought.
"What's wrong?" Manny asked, rubbing her arm.
"Nothing, I was just thinking about last night, that was all." She gazed off at the far wall.
"You haven't got a thing for Harris have you?" a pang of jealousy rolled over him as he asked the question, not wanting to hear the reply. She shot him a look of bemusement.
"What?" she cried. "That pig? I don't think so!" she reared her head back and laughed loudly. "No, I was just thinking about the way your dad took care of him last night. Where'd he learn to fight like that?"
"He was in the UNSC Special Forces division." Manny replied. Sarah looked at him in surprise.
"Your dad was in the Special Forces? Wow, no wonder he made short work of Harris."
"Yeah, he joined up at the start of the war and worked his way up pretty quickly. His family had moved out to Harvest and everyone, except his mother, were on it when it was destroyed by the Covenant. He joined up the day after it happened, despite the fact that my mother had just given birth to my brother."
"You have a brother?" Sarah asked.
"I did have. His name was Bradley," Manny felt his throat tighten a little as emotion started to run riot in his body. "He died last year."
"How did he die?" Sarah leant in closer to him.
"He was coming home on leave for my birthday. The ship he was on was destroyed by a Covenant ambush." Manny felt a tear role down his cheek and onto the sheet beneath him.
"Are you okay?" Sarah asked, tilting his chin to face her.
"It's nothing." Another tear rolled down his cheek, but this time it was caught by Sarah's finger. She looked deeply into his eyes. Sadness took over Manny's body and he could feel himself welling up.
"If you don't want to talk about it..."
"No, it's okay." He took a deep breath, wiping at the tears forming in his eyes. "It's just that I always resented him for what he did. It seemed to me like he joined the UNSC to get on the good side of our father. Dad always seemed to love him more, seemed to take pride in hearing what Bradley had to tell him; about where he was, what he was doing, or who he was doing it with.
"Brad became the most decorated soldier in his unit, and my parents had all his awards hung up on the wall. And whatever I did seemed to become more and more insignificant in their eyes. Whenever I saw him, I tried my best to talk to him without feeling anger towards him. It was more jealousy than anything, jealously that he was out becoming the hero. All I had done was get into college, which to some parents is a big deal. Not mine, they were too concerned with how Bradley was doing." Manny wiped at his face again, feeling himself coming closer and closer to losing it.
"When the news came through about his death, my parents were devastated. They cried for days, not wanting to believe he was gone. The worst part was, his death made me feel even angrier. It was my birthday the day after they got the news and the whole thing was forgotten because of his death. Once again, he had taken centre stage, and I was left in the foreground. The only piece of satisfaction I got out of it was that he was gone from our lives and I would be the number one son. I never shed a tear for him, not one. And I realise now, that I should have never felt like that.
"I joined the UNSC because I felt like it was something I had to do. And it was something I thought my parents wanted me to do as well. When my dad used to look at Brad, he got this look in his eye; a look of pride, of happiness. I never got that look until I joined the UNSC, and the first time I got it, it felt great. But after a while I started to think he was seeing my brother in me. The whole pride thing was bitter in my mouth as all the resentment and jealousy started to come flooding back. I didn't want him to see Bradley, I wanted them to see me. It wasn't until yesterday that I realised every feeling I felt against my brother had all been wrong.
"Seeing my father yesterday made me realise that we're in the middle of what could be extinction. My brother wasn't fighting to impress our father, it was to stop us from being killed. Had I seen that from the start, I wouldn't have felt the way I did. I'm not saying that feeling different would bring him back, but at least I would have felt what my father did when he looked at him. Pride. Pride that he was helping us, that he was fighting to keep us alive. He died for us, died for me, so I could live. And I had only seen that when he was alive, I would have treated him with the respect he deserved."
Manny couldn't bring himself to look at the woman opposite him. Since Bradley's death, he had bottled up all these emotions he felt towards his brother, had never told anyone how he really felt. The resentment he had for his brother's achievements, the jealousy he had for believing his father loved Bradley more, the anger he felt when he heard about Bradley's death. All those emotions he had kept to himself, only to realise that he should have never felt them in the first place.
And now it was in the presence of a woman he hardly knew that he was letting it all out. He expected her to leave, not wanting to see him like this. And he thought she was going to until, without saying a word, she reached over and pulled Manny into her arms. As she did so, he literally broke down in her arms, and for the first time in his life, he cried over the death of his brother.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Despite What The Map Says: Chapter 6
Date: 3 July 2003, 12:04 AM

Section 2: Despite What The Map Says
Chapter 6

1200 Hours, March 17, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
Derias System, Derian Prime

The Covenant elite known as 'Hulasomee led his squad through the dense rain forest at a snail's pace. He knew there was an enemy presence around here somewhere. It was, in fact, the same enemy presence he and the rest of the Covenant in this area had been tracking down for the passed week. Whoever or whatever it was, was good at playing hide and seek. The last squad that came through this way never returned, and 'Hulasomee was worried that his squad might go the same way. It wasn't one of those green soldiers he had heard of, but from the number of casualties it had left, whatever it was, was good at killing.
He nervously looked round at his squad. The six Grunts ambled along behind him, seemingly unphased by the fact that they could be dead within the next few minutes. The two Jackals, however were alert as ever, scanning the forest for any sign of motion. If there was anyone out there, they'd be the two who'd spot it. The rain was getting lighter, and it was easier for him to hear the woodland around him, but 'Hulasomee still didn't like the fact that he couldn't see a meter in front of his own face. He wasn't used to the thick greens and browns, it was too claustrophobic.
They trekked for a further ten units and then set down for a rest. The Grunts hunkered down round a tree and jabbered away in their own language, whilst the two Jackals took up guard positions around them, still sweeping their plasma pistols around menacingly.
'Hulasomee took this chance to relax for a bit. He set himself down a few metres from the Grunts, crossing his legs and thinking for a moment.
Something dropped next to him, something small, brown and rounded. Looking over to his left he saw what looked like a piece of food. He reached out and picked it up, feeling it in his hands. It was light and from the sound of it, hollow inside. It fit in his hand perfectly. He glanced up and noticed that the trees in which they sat round had hundreds of the small objects growing on them. He watched as one fell from the tree under which the Grunts sat.
It bounced off of one of their heads, causing it to squeal. The Grunt jumped up and started rubbing his head. Stupid creature. 'Hulasomee despised anything that was lower than himself, and the Grunts were the lowest.
Another brown object fell from the tree, landing in the middle of pack of Grunts. Only this time, rather than making the hollow sound the other two made, this one made a metallic 'clunk'. And before 'Hulasomee could yell at the Grunts, the grenade went off, blasting all six of the little creatures back into the forest.
'Hulasomee scrambled to his feet, clutching at his plasma rifle, searching for something to shoot. He looked over to the Jackals, and saw that they were lying face down, in a pool of their own blood, their necks sliced open. Whilst he and the Grunts had been busy looking at the objects falling from the tree, whatever they were hunting had killed the Jackals without them noticing.
Fear surrounded 'Hulasomee's thoughts as he desperately tried to find his enemy. He glanced to his left, thinking he heard something. Then something else made him look back to his right. As he turned his head, he noticed something move in the forest ahead of him. But before he had time to explore further, a loud crack rang out through the forest.
The bullet overloaded the Elite's shields, piercing his skull and killing him instantly. Before the alien's body had even started to fall to the ground, the sniper was off into the forest again, disappearing as quickly as he had come.



1200 Hours, March 17, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
151st Street, Downtown New York
Earth

"Who's that?" Manny exclaimed at the sound of the door chime. He had laid with Sarah for over an hour, chatting together about their lives before they joined the UNSC. Sarah spoke about her family, how her younger brother was at school still, and her sister was a reporter on the war. They talked about childhoods, holidays to other worlds, old friends, both alive and dead. And the more they talked, the more Manny fell in love with her.
The chime sounded again. He got out of bed and slung a pair of fatigues over his underpants and went to the door. Punching the access button the door slid open. Grace and Tanya occupied the space on the other side, smiles on both their faces. Realising he was topless, Manny took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Oh come on," Grace said "We've seen you topless before, boy!" they both stepped into the apartment, eyeing up the place as they did so. "Nice place you got here, never had you pinned for a rich kid." She shot him an impressed look. "Now, what have you done with our girl?"
"She's in my room." The two women gave him an admiring glance, then went back to surveying the flat.
"This is a nice place, you got Jon." Tanya piped up. She was standing by the plasma screen at the end of the sitting room, running her hands over the bottom of it. Grace walked into the kitchen area and started fiddling with a knife that was out on the side. Sarah must have used for the cooking. The door to his room slid open and Sarah walked out, the robe wrapped tightly around her small waist. She smiled at them as she walked in.
"Good morning, Grace. Hey Tanya." The two girls looked over to her and smiled warmly at her. Manny noticed that Tanya obviously wasn't as hung up on him as Sarah thought. She walked over to the kitchen and stood by Grace. Sarah came and put an arm round Manny's side, leaning on him. "So what brings you two here?" she looked over into the kitchen.
"We're here for you to show us what the shopping is like round here!" Grace looked up at them. "I need some clothes for tonight and I'll be dammed if I'm wearing that stupid dress again!"
"Hey, what's wrong with my dresses?" exclaimed Tanya. She lightly hit Grace on the shoulder. Grace shot her a glance of mock-anger and then broke into a smile.
"I don't do dresses." They laughed together. "Come on Sarah, go get dressed and lets hit the town." The two women walked over to Sarah and Manny, grabbed Sarah and yanked her into his room. Before he could say anything about them all going in there, the door shut and locked behind them. He laughed to himself and turned back to the rest of his flat. He walked over to one of the plush sofas he had by the Plasma screen, picked up a packet of smokes, took one out and lit it. Settling down into the soft cushions, he motioned for the screen to come on. It sparked into life, displaying five different channels in out-boxes. One had a music video of some sort playing, two others were sports channels.
"News." He said loudly. The box-outs went black, then moulded into one as the image of a man behind a desk came on, the letters GW embossed behind his head. Galaxy Wire was the most up to date news channel around and especially focused on the war against the Covenant. Though the war was getting closer and closer to Earth, it was still a fair bit away. But even still, that wasn't grounds to relax; millions were dying with each passing month.
"...awarded the medal for outstanding bravery, with total disregard to his own safety." The news reporter had faded into the background and a picture of a green-suited biped took up the screen. The visor of the being was gold, and the suit it wore shone an iridescent green. It looked menacing, holding a rocket launcher that didn't quite point at the viewer.
Had he not been following the news the passed few years, he would have thought that the thing on screen was an alien warrior of some sort. The Spartans had been both a legend and a myth since the start of the war. They had emerged from nowhere, and their exploits had gone from rumours to facts. It had started with just a passing mention, and now they were the only thing that people were interested in when it came to the war. Manny didn't know the full story, but his dad had seen them in action numerous times and said he'd never seen anything like it.
No-one really knew what they were beneath that armour. Were they aliens? Were they cyborgs? Genetically-enhanced humans was the general consensus, but still, no-one really knew. And there never seemed to be a short supply of them either. More and more news coverage had been dedicated to their exploits around the Galaxy, and even though the stories were full of holes where ONI had restricted their access, it was still exciting stuff.
If it weren't for the Spartans, the human race would probably be long gone.
He turned away from the screen to Sarah and the other two emerge from his bedroom. Sarah had showered and dressed and wandered over to him as Grace and Tanya went and stood by the front door.
"You alright?" Sarah gazed into Manny's eyes. He looked down at her, kissed her forehead then nodded.
"I'm fine. Just catching up on current events." He turned back to the screen and motioned for it to switch off. "Where you off to?"
"We're heading out into town." Sarah replied. She smiled up at him then lightly kissed him on the cheek. "I'll be back for dinner," she started to walk to the door "That is, if you want me here for dinner?"
Manny chuckled loudly. "I'd like that very much." She beamed back at him, then motioned for the girls to leave. As the front door slid shut, Manny found himself alone in his flat. He looked around for something to do, and for the first time in 36 hours that he just wanted to be back at boot camp.




Greggs awoke for the second time in a few hours, the sick feeling having subsided a little. He pulled himself up and managed to stumble into the kitchen. At the breakfast bar sat Harris. He wore a blue shirt and pants to match. They exchanged glances, neither man showing emotion.
The big man pulled himself up onto the bar, resting his elbows down, and hunching his shoulders over. His stomach churned once, then settled. Thankfully his headache had gone, and he began to feel a whole lot better. Tapping a few keys on the bar, a plasma screen came down from the ceiling. He hit the 'on' button and the screen buzzed into life. A young lady dancing provocatively to a dance tune exploded into view.
He watched for a few minutes before turning over to the sports channel. A football match was half way through the last quarter. He didn't recognise the names of either team, but then again that was hardly surprising. There were tens of thousands of teams, all playing in different leagues, for different cities, or states, or planets. Each planet had several different leagues, and then each planet also had its own 'World' team. Of course, since the start of the war, matches had been rare due to the destruction of so many colonies and death of so many people. The war was getting ever closer to Earth. So far, the Inner Colonies were still intact, but all the outer colonies, bar a handful had been destroyed. Would it come to the complete extinction of man? Greggs tried not to think about it, and concentrated on the screen in front of him.
As far as he could make out, Greggs was watching a match between two cities. Neither came from Earth. It was a pretty one-sided match as well, with the home team leading by over fifty points. Being from Denver, the only team he was interested in were the Broncos, one of the only teams to have been around for the passed six hundred years and still be just as good as they were to start with.
"Hey," Harris piped up. "I'm sorry about earlier." Greggs looked over at the muscular male, trying not to show any emotion. He nodded. "I didn't mean to create a rift between us. You know you are one of my closest friends."
Greggs grinned back at him. "I can't believe you are apologising to me, this is a first." He pushed the TV screen up. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, but you deserved it." Harris laughed aloud. He got up and walked round to Greggs, clapping him on the back.
"Yeah, I guess so. I've learnt a lesson not to think I can take on the world just because I'm a soldier." He leaned against the bar.
"You still pissed at Manny?" Harris shot him a glance. "Come on, what have you got against him?"
"He's too arrogant."
Greggs smirked "That's rich coming from you." He stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "I know for a fact the only reason he doesn't like you is because he knows you don't like him and because of the way you act towards him." As he brought his arms down, he slapped Harris on the stomach. "Jealously, that's all it is."
For a split second, Greggs saw anger spark behind the bigger man's eyes, then vanish. "It's not jealousy, is competitiveness. Many see him as the best at boot. I, personally do not."
"Yeah, but where he takes the compliments and puts them aside, you take them and shove them up your ass." Harris struck him on the arm, causing the man to off balance a little. "So he's a good soldier, what's wrong with that? Just accept it."
"I will accept he is a good soldier, but not the best soldier." Harris strolled over to his bedroom door. "For your sake I'll tolerate him, but that's all."
"That's all I can really ask, isn't it?"
"Well it had better, because that's all your getting." Harris walked into his room and the door shut behind him. Greggs pulled the TV screen down and finished watching his match.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Despite What The Map Says: Chapter 7
Date: 6 July 2003, 6:52 PM

Chapter 7

1030 Hours, March 23, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
Military Training Camp Utah, Australia
Earth

The air was getting thicker with smoke, and Manny knew that unless he reacted soon, he would be surrounded by enemy troops and would lose the battle. Crouched down behind a hastily made barrier, Manny had been worked into a tight corner when the enemy stormed their base. All his comrades had been "killed" and he was the only one left. And by "killed" he meant "stunned". The modified MA5B's utilised thirty stun rounds, half the amount of live ammunition they could carry. The stun rounds basically knocked the player unconscious for a brief amount of time, effectively throwing them to the floor. The annoying thing was, they hurt like hell and used an electrical impulse to knock them out. And each member of his squad had taken more than a few when the opposing force had entered the complex.

The sound of gunfire and a spray of bullets rattled overhead. The small wooden table he had turned over in the heat of the moment had proven to save his skin, but he was being worked out, and with superior numbers, it wouldn't take them long. The large room was littered with strewn tables and chairs where his squad had been taken to pieces and fallen this way and that. At the far end, by the only door in to the room, the enemy sat. They knew that they could rush Manny, but could easily be cut down if he were to poke his gun over the top. Using smoke grenades and going in without being seen by him was their best option.

And it seemed to be working; Manny didn't have a clue who was or wasn't in the room anymore. He checked his rifle. He had ten rounds left in the clip, and a further three magazines on him. They had also been issued two smoke grenades each and an F-5 pistol, with three spare clips. He had only used his rifle and that was covering himself when diving behind the overturned table. They had come completely without warning, which was no surprise considering Fincher was in charge.

He and Fincher had gotten on extremely well when put together in training ops, and it looked like Pom had seen this. They would use simple rush-in, pull-out tactics, obliterating any opposition that got in their way. So he put Manny in charge of one squad and Fincher in charge of the other. And by the look of it, Fincher was about to win.

Another spray of bullets caused Manny to duck down further. He had to act, and soon. He glanced over the splintered wood and saw a shadow near the doorway. The smoke had cleared to the top of the room now, and Manny could see that the room was still empty, with the exception of his downed, and now semi-conscious, team-mates. The first one to go had been Greggs. He was covering the door when they charged. He had been thrown back onto Tanya and another one of their team, knocking them clean off of their feet. If it hadn't been for Greggs' size, they may have been able to do something, but he had become a visible obstruction when he got hit, and the enemy simply sprayed the room, taking everyone out.

"Christ" he cursed. He fired the remaining rounds out of his clip over near the doorway. Slamming a new clip home, he dived from his cover, rolled over to the right side of the room, and snuck up behind another overturned table. Hopefully, the sounds of him diving and rolling weren't too loud, despite the clunky body armour. It was standard UNSC Marine Corps body armour, designed to keep out any unwanted bullets. He had lost the helmet when he went diving for cover, and almost lost one of his boots as well.

He peered over the edge of the downed table, and noticed a foot coming through the door, accompanied by a battle rifle. But it was pointed over to where Manny had been, which was what he had hoped for. Now he just had to sit tight and wait for more to come in, then he could take them. The room was still smoky, and it was difficult to tell who it was that had just come in. As the first man came completely through the door, a second man started to make his way in behind him. The two men walked slowly over to the other side of the room. As they neared their destination, one of them motioned to the door. Two more figures appeared through the mist, and to Manny's surprise and horror, they started edging over to where he was hiding.

He forced himself down to the ground, hoping they hadn't seen him. He waited till he was sure they had come to a stop then carefully raised himself up to see over the table. The two figures, one insanely big in his armour, stood with the backs to Manny, their rifles pointed at where he had been originally. Perfect.

He jumped up, grabbed the large man round the neck and kicked out at the second person, sending them to the floor. Many jammed his rifle up and fired across the room, catching both interlopers in the chest. As they went down, they fired off a few stun rounds, catching Manny's human shield in the stomach and chest. The body went limp and he eased it down to the floor. Laying the huge frame down, he noticed it was Harris, and took great pride in mentally noting that it was his own team who had shot him, albeit accidentally. He quickly moved over to the enemy he had kicked down.

Grabbing at the persons shoulders, he yanked them up. Twisting them round to face away from him, he pulled out his pistol and jammed it into the side of their helmet.
"Move and your...unconscious." Manny whispered, trying to make it sound serious. He put his other arm around their chest, and pulled them in. The person gave a feminine grunt and he realised it was Grace. He managed a smile to himself; this would be payback for yesterday's CTF match. He marched her over to the door, making sure he was well hidden behind her. "Alright!" he yelled "I got one of your men hostage. Lay down your weapons and come out where I can see you."

There was a murmur from beyond the door, followed by the clattering of rifles. The stocky frame of Fincher came into view, his hand raised. He had a bemused look on his face. Two more men came into view. Manny knew them as Cochran and Walker. They had been good friends from the start, and pretty good warriors, too. He liked them, although Walker was a bit on the mellow side.

"You got us," Fincher said, a wry grin on his face. The other two looked warily at Manny. He pushed Grace out through the door, moving towards the three men. As he did so, he heard a metallic click, and felt the sensation of cold metal against his neck.

"Shit." Manny muttered. He peered to his left and saw his beloved girlfriend with her F-5 pointed straight at him. A grin covered her face. "You bitch."

"Orders are orders," she said, her grin widening. "Now, are you gonna come quietly? Or am I going to have to shoot you?"

"Neither," Manny replied. As he did, he nudged his shoulder up, knocking the barrel out of the way of his head. He pushed Grace forwards, sending her sprawling with the others. He grabbed Sarah's arm, holding the gun away from him, and fired at the others, taking them all out with one shot to the chest. He pulled Sarah into him, wrapping his arms around here, forcing her to drop her weapon.

"Sorry," he whispered into her ear. He pointed the gun into the back of her thigh and pulled the trigger, sending a stun round into the flesh. She screamed in pain, but fell limp within a few seconds. He laid her down gently, and kissed her forehead. He reached for the radio in his back pocket, pulled it free and clicked the handset on.

"This is Delta Team leader, all enemy targets neutralised. Repeat, all targets neutralised." He waited for a response. He looked down at the prone bodies of Walker, Fincher, Cochran and Grace. They lay in a tangle on the floor, limbs hanging at odd angles, their heads tilted back at funny angles. It looked like they had been out on an all night bender.

"Delta Team Leader, this is HQ. Roger that, we are sending an evac team now. Repeat, evac team is on the way. ETA is three minutes. HQ, out."

Manny holstered his pistol and sat down on the floor, resting his back against the wall. He pulled Sarah over to him and rest her head in his lap. He pulled out a cigarette, lit it and took a deep puff, and waited for his girlfriend to come round, waited for the slap he deserved.




"I can't believe you shot me." Sarah growled at he boyfriend. She jabbed him in the ribs as they sat eating in the mess hall. He shot her a wry grin and went back to fingering a piece of corn bread. Both squads were sitting eating now in one of the many mess halls in the training camp. They thought it would be a good idea to celebrate Manny's almost single-handed victory at taking out an eight-man squad. Fincher had taken the beating in good jest, commending his friend on what he did, but he would get his revenge, he was sure of that.

He sat the other side of Manny, with Walker and Greggs opposite them, flanked by Grace, Tanya and another woman from the opposing squad. The rest of the people sat spread down the one bench, with Harris, Fincher noticed, a considerable distance from the rest of them. It was odd how he and the larger man got along fine, but Harris just couldn't seem to stand Manny. Grace had told him about what happened between the two when they were on leave, how Harris had took a severe pasting from Manny's father. Fincher had noticed the rivalry between the two of them the moment they stepped onto the camp.

Manny seemed to bat it away, but Harris held things inside, bottle them up and remembered them for later. That was probably why Fincher found himself closer to Manny than he had the other man. He picked up his fork and tucked into the piece of meat that sat on his plate. Chewing rigorously, he grabbed at his water pitcher and gulped down the cool liquid. The exercise had worn him out, worn everyone out, and they were all hungry as hell. Mess hall food had never tasted so good.

"So when am I going to get the chance to beat your ass down?" he said to Manny. The younger man looked up at him, his face breaking into a smile. He could see why Sarah was attracted to Manny. He was tall, thin and good looking, and Fincher wasn't afraid to admit it.

"What do you mean when?" he smirked, shovelling food into his mouth. "There will be no chance, my friend," he said round the mouthful of food. "Besides, if we're up against each other again, I'm sure Sarah will be on you team, and it will mean I'll have to shoot her again." Another poke in the ribs from Sarah emitted grunt from Manny, as well as laughter from the others.

"That was a good plan you had going, there Finchy boy." Greggs exclaimed, who had been the first to go down. "I didn't know what hit me."

"I did!" shouted Tanya, still nursing a badly bruised arm from being flattened by the huge frame of Greggs. Laughter rang out at the comment and Greggs swung an arm round her, pulling her into a hug. She grinned up at him and lightly kissed him on the cheek "But I forgive you. After all, it wasn't your fault."

"I knew he was going to do it." Manny piped up, "I now how you work, my dear friend." He said, pointing at Fincher. Fincher made a vein grab at his finger but caught thin air as Manny retracted his hand.

"Bullshit, you did." Fincher sipped at his water. "You were more surprised about it than anyone else. Believe me, I saw you jump over that table the moment Greggs went flying."

"I was just getting into position." Manny's face flushed a little, a shy smile crossing his face. "And besides, did I take you all out?"

"Yeah," Walker said, rubbing his chest. "Those stun rounds hurt at close range."

"Especially," Sarah started "if its someone from your own team." They went silent for a moment and all peered down the length of the table at Harris. He sat hunched over a plate of food, slowly stirring it with his fork. He had taken the beating badly, and the embarrassment of being shot by one of his own team mates made it even worse. And to top it all, Manny had come out the hero by single-handedly winning the scenario. Fincher felt sorry for the private, but his own arrogance separated him from the others. Even Greggs, who started out as one of his closest friends didn't really talk to him any more.
Fincher pulled out a packet of cigarettes and took two out, handing one to Manny. He lit his and took a long drag on it. "So what we got for the rest of the day?"

"Just workshops," Grace replied. She seemed a little downhearted, which Fincher put down to losing at today's exercise. She never took losing well. "And a meeting at eighteen hundred hours at our barracks."

"Know what it's about?" Manny asked, to which Grace shrugged and shook her head. Fincher sucked on the white stick, blowing smoke rings as he exhaled. Workshops were always boring, but they taught the Marines how to utilise their weapons to their best ability, as well as teaching them how to fix them in the field. If your weapon jammed in the middle of the battle it could cost you your life.
He glanced over his shoulder and saw their bald drill instructor Pom sitting with two men he didn't recognise.

They seemed to be examining Fincher and the others a little too closely. The two men looked just as mean and battle-hardened as Pom did, and Fincher saw the rank insignias of Corporal and Sergeant on their uniforms. The Corporal caught Fincher's eye, and the two locked gazes for a split second before Fincher turned away. Better to leave them alone and think about what the rest of the day offered.





"Who's that?" Corporal Harland said, nodding in the direction of Private Fincher. The bulky Corporal took a puff on his cigarette, then exhaled quickly. Next to him sat Sergeant Raynes, his commanding officer. Raynes looked over at the table, eyeing up the Private. They both turned to Pom, sitting opposite them. The drill instructor turned around, showing Harland just how shiny the back of the man's head was.

"Fincher." Pom replied. "Good man. Good tactician. You'll like him." In the fifteen years that Harland had known Pom, he had never heard the man utter more than a few words at any one time. Even when he yelled at his men, it was short and sharp. He was to the point, liked to get things done quickly, which was why Harland had gotten on with the man. The men sat at the table had been good friends since they met, serving in the same squad. Even their promotions hadn't separated them. Then Pom lost his right arm and couldn't fight any more, taking up a position here at Camp Utah.

"Will I now?" Harland replied. Rayes smirked. "What?" Harland snapped.

"Never mind." The Sergeant shook his head and sipped at a mug of coffee. "The eltee will like these guys. They got a lot of character." Raynes took another sip of coffee, set the mug down and leaned back in his chair. Harland looked back over to the table of recruits.

"How is McCasky?" Pom asked. "Still keeping the platoon together?"

"Yeah, he's doing fine." Raynes replied. "When are we being introduced to these suckers?"

"Six." Pom replied sharply. "In their barracks." Harland took another puff on his cigarette then stubbed it out in a near-by tin tray. He looked over at the recruits and saw two of them kissing.

"Who are the love birds?" Harland spat. Pom looked round again.

"Jon 'Manny' Manors and Sarah McCain. Been together since they came back from leave a few days ago."

"You know relationships between squadies isn't good, Pom." Raynes said. Pom looked up at the man, a smile on his face.

"Don't worry, they are both exceptional soldiers. What happens in their private life doesn't affect the way they work when fighting together." He chewed on a mouthful of food for a moment then continued. "In fact, in today's op, he shot her!" he laughed loudly, and Raynes gave a slight smile at the comment.

"I suppose it can't hurt," Harland said "You can't help who you love." The three men finished their meals in silence then left the mess hall and prepared to meet the troops that they were to take command of for the rest of their lives.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Despite What The Map Says: Chapter 8
Date: 29 July 2003, 9:30 PM

Chapter 8

1430 Hours, March 17, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
Derias System, Derian Prime

It didn't take long to locate the bodies. The Grunts were littered around in pieces, two Jackals lay face down in their own blood, and Hulasomee had the top half of his head missing. Caro 'Kiolosomee knelt down next to his dead comrade, placing his claws over the dead Elite's chest in a sign of respect. What ever did this to his brother would pay dearly. He rose and walked over to his commanding officer. 'Ikolamee stood surveying a nearby tree. It was badly splintered and charred, probably from an explosion of some sort. The commander rubbed his hand over the surface, trying to figure out what had happened.

"Have you an idea as to what has happened, master?" 'Kiolosomee said in a low tone. The superior officer turned to him, and clucked his lower mandibles.

"No." he said bluntly, and went back to inspecting the tree. 'Kiolosomee turned away from him, and looked out into the brush. Three Black armoured Elites appeared in front of him. One of them came to a stop next to 'Kiolosomee.

"It appears," the Elite spoke "that the primitive used a projectile weapon to kill 'Hulasomee." He held up his hand; clutched between his fore-claws was a metallic cylinder. The shell casing to the sniper weapons the humans used. 'Kiolosomee cursed to himself. This was the third recon squad to be wiped out by this mysterious human. They had gotten reports from a Grunt Spec Ops squad that an escape pod had crash landed somewhere in the forests near their main camp. Hoping for some easy kills, the Grunts had engaged the downed craft. Their bodies had been found near the pod, but no humans were found, dead or alive.

A patrol of Jackals was sent out, but never returned. Two more squads were dispatched, neither were seen again until they were found dead. Now the camp was on full alert, and Tura 'Ikolamee, the highest-ranking Elite on the planet, had decided to go and track this human down himself. He had picked 'Kiolosomee and three other Elites to help him, knowing their skill at tracking and hunting would be extremely useful, as well as bringing along two Hunters.

The lumbering creatures stood guarding the perimeter whilst the Elites tried to get a rough idea as to what the hell happened. 'Kiolosomee turned to 'Ikolamee.

"Master, you may wish to see this." The commander turned, his bulky form coming round on the smaller Elites, his gold armour sparkling in the arid light that poked through the trees.

"What is it?" he snatched at the shell casing. "Ah, yes. Sniper round, I believe." He motioned for the Elites to gather round. "We are dealing with a very hostile entity, extreme caution is to be taken." They nodded in agreement.

"Do you think its one of them?" one of the Elites said.

"No," 'Kiolosomee replied. "Last reports from the first squad spoke of a black figure, and not a particularly big one either. Those creatures wear green armour, and are bigger than normal humans, and if one of them were here I'd doubt we'd be able to fi..." he never finished his sentence as the Gold clad Elite struck a blow to his head.

"Never speak of such failure, ever!" he roared "By the will of the Prophets, we have the power to destroy anything that stands in our way, even one of those things." 'Kiolosomee shook his head, trying to shake the pain.

"Sorry, master." He bowed his head. "It shall not happen again." He acknowledged his mistake, knowing it was the wrong thing to say. The other Elites stood warily, not wanting to speak for fear of the same punishment. They had all heard of the reports of green armoured warriors that were unstoppable in battle. No Elite had encountered these beings yet as they, themselves rarely entered the battlefield, believing the lesser races could handle them. Only Jackals and Grunt had come into contact with them, and those that did, rarely lived to tell the tale.

It was widely regarded between the lower-ranking Elites that the green-clad warriors were a thorn in their side, one that would not be easy to remove.

"I believe" 'Ikolamee continued. "the warrior we are searching for waited for this squad to rest, then struck. The Jackals have distinct blade wounds to their throats, and where they are standing suggests they were on guard. The warrior knew to dispatch these first, which meant that 'Hulasomee must have been off guard. The blackened tree suggests an explosive of some sort, and judging from the general scatter of the Grunts, I'd have myself believe that the explosive killed them all outright.

"This left 'Hulasomee." The Golden Elite pondered for a moment, clicking his upper jaw. "With the Jackals out, the warrior could easily kill the Grunts, leaving 'Hulasomee without backup." 'Ikolamee drew his plasma sword from his armour, and flicked the switch. The blade hummed into life, the blue light bouncing off of the Elite's armour. "We must move. The warrior is probably a few units away by now, and we have precious time." The lesser-ranking Elites drew their Plasma Rifles, motioned to the Hunters and set off in the direction they believed the interloper to have gone.




1030 Hours, March 23, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
Military Training Camp Utah, Australia
Earth

"Ten-hut!" Drill Sergeant Pom shouted, the sound echoing around the rectangular room. The men and women occupying the large room stood up straight and snapped crisp salutes. The room they stood in was one of the smaller sleeping quarters on the Camp. When the recruits had come to Camp Utah, it was two hundred men and women to one large room, but as training went on, the need to separate out into squads was outlined. That way, the soldiers in those squads got to know the people around them before they hit active combat, and it also made it easier to trained squads than it did to teach a whole platoon all at once.

"At ease," another voice came, this one deeper, yet softer than that of the drill sergeant. Two men walked in, stepping passed Pom, who stood rigidly at the opening. Fincher recognised both of them as the guys from the Canteen earlier. What ever it was, them talking to Pom was no coincidence. He had identified them as a Sergeant and a Corporal when eating in the Mess Hall, and now it was even clearer, the speaker stood just in front of the other man. They looked equally as rough as each other, but also very neat. Their army uniforms were clean and creaseless, their boots polished, and their hair worn at what looked like exactly the right length.

But what the hell were they doing here? Fincher pushed the thought aside as he dropped his hands behind his back, spreading his legs to shoulder length. The Sergeant stepped forwards, walking slowly down between the two rows of soldiers, looking at each one individually.

"I am Sergeant Raynes," he began, stopping near Greggs. The big man exhaled even more, trying to bring his large belly in, just in case the newcomer decided to give it a whack, as Pom often liked to do. But no such action came from him. He simply stared at the other man, then nodded to himself and carried on down the line. "I am to be your commanding officer when you finish Boot." He pointed back up to the top of the room. "That man over there is Corporal Harland, who is my second in command. Just to let you know, that when you are not answering to me, you are answering to him." Fincher stole a glance up at Harland, and noticed he was staring straight back at him, the flicker of a smile crossing his face.

Fincher turned back to eyes-front, feeling a drip of cold sweat trickle down his back. That was the second time that had happened.

"You are coming to the end of your training, and from what I hear, you are some of the best marines in these barracks, which is saying something. But this war is not going to be easy. Many men and women have died to try and stop the Covenant from getting to Earth, and so far they have succeeded. This is not meant to dampen your spirits, recruits, this is to prepare you for the world you are about to enter. Make no mistake, every action you make when you leave Boot Camp could well extend or shorten your life." He managed to stare round the whole room, at each one of the twelve men and women at once.

"In two weeks you will be taken, on a UNSC Carrier, to a designated hot-zone. I cannot disclose whereabouts as of yet, for security reasons. The other squads in this platoon are also being briefed as we speak, you will all be in the same boat." He took one last look then marched up to the front of the room. He turned sharply, the hint of a smile on his face. "Good luck with the rest of the training, and I'll see you at graduation. He saluted sharply, the man behind him dong the same. The twelve men and women saluted back, then waited for Raynes and Harland to leave before dropping their hands. Fincher exhaled deeply.

"Well, well," Pom shouted as the door closed behind him. "Look's like you're gonna be out fighting the covie in a fortnight, eh?" he said, a wide grin on his face. "I'm proud of you, people, but that's not to say these next two weeks of training are gonna be easy." Although Fincher knew Pom was just kidding with them, trying to scare them, there was a hint in his voice that suggested the next two weeks could be the worst two weeks of his life.

"You now have two hours to yourselves, soldiers," Pom said. He turned, nodded to Manny and walked out the door. Manny closed the door behind the Drill Sergeant then turned to the others.

"Party time, people," Manny's soothing voice said. Fincher collapsed backwards on his bed, his head hitting the mattress hard, bouncing a few times. He looked around and saw every gathering into groups or pairs and chatting excitedly about the events to come. He felt someone sit heavily on the edge of his bed.

"What do you think of all this?" Manny said. He slapped a hand over Fincher's thigh, leaving a sting. "You ready to fight for Earth?"

"I don't know about the fighting for Earth part, buddy but I know one things for sure. The next two weeks ain't going to be easy." He looked up at the other man.

"Yeah, I got that feeling too." Manny yawned, cupping a hand over his mouth. He glanced around the room quickly, then settled his eyes on Sarah. Fincher saw her look up at Manny, wink and smile, then get back to talking to Grace and Tanya. "Do you think it's weird that our squad mainly consists of the people you got to know first?"
Fincher thought to himself for a moment. "I guess that's why they did it." He sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed, and coming to sit next to Manny. "I mean, the better you know someone, the more likely you are to know how they are going to react in a situation. That way, if you are in a fight, you know what to expect and won't be surprised by what they do." Manny looked distant for a minute, then nodded.

"But," Manny replied. "The better you know someone, the harder it is when you lose them."

"You thinking about Sarah?" Fincher nudged him with his shoulder. Manny looked up at him, began to nod then stopped.
"Not just Sarah," Manny said, his voice lowering. "I feel close to all you guys. Walker, Tanya, Grace, Greggs. Hell, even if Harris were to bite it I'd still feel something." They both glanced over at the man. Harris sat chatting happily with Walker.
"He's not so bad," Fincher said, knowing the comment was likely to spark a reaction from Manny. But that reaction never came.

"Yeah," Manny said, sighing deeply. "He's not a bad person at all. It's just that he's a competitive person. When I first met him, I had him pinned down for an arrogant bastard. I still think that, but he's an arrogant bastard I can respect. We play off of each other. I know it, he knows it and in doing so, we both work harder."

"Mutual respect, eh?" Fincher replied. He stood and stretched his arms over his head, then bent down and touched his toes. Coming back up, he felt something huge slap him on the back. Nearly falling to the ground, Fincher inhaled sharply. Standing back up he came chest to face with Harris. The bigger man smiled. But it wasn't his usual menacing smile, this time it was genuinely friendly.

"Sheesh, Harris do you have to hit so hard?" he whacked him in the stomach, but felt his cheeks turn a little red when he noticed Harris didn't even blink at the retaliatory action.

"We're heading down the bar if you guys wanna come. A drink or two to celebrate finishing boot camp. You want to come?" Fincher noticed his invitation wasn't just aimed at himself. He noticed that Harris looked over at Manny as well, the smile not leaving his face. Was he feeling alright? Manny glanced over at Fincher, a look of bemusement on his face.

"Er..." Manny stuttered, "Yeah, why not. You coming Fincher?" Fincher nodded, feeling a smirk coming on.

"Right," Harris boomed, oblivious to the facial expressions both men had just pulled. "we're leaving now, so are you going to meet us down there, or come with us?" Manny stood and motioned for Harris to go.

"We'll come down with you." Manny blurted out. As Harris turned away, muttering something to himself about numbers, Manny looked over at Fincher. Bewilderment covered his face. Fincher shrugged, then wrapped an arm round the other man's neck.

"I don't know what he's on, but enjoy it while it lasts," Fincher said, chuckling to himself. Manny dug him in the ribs lightly.

"Let's just hope this isn't a ruse for him to beat my head into a pulp when I'm lying face down on the floor in a drunken stupor." The two men laughed as they exited the sleeping quarters. Tonight would be a great night. But although they didn't say it to one another, Manny and Fincher both realised this could well be the last good time they have.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Despite What The Map Says: Chapter 9
Date: 1 August 2003, 6:01 PM

Chapter 9

1700 Hours, April 13, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Frigate Juan Token
Derias System, Oribiting Derian Prime

"Five minutes until Dropship Launch." The soothing AI voice came. That's easy for you to say, Manny thought. You're not going down there. He breathed in deeply, then exhaled. His armour felt tight around him, and every movement he made, seemed to agitate his body even more. The air seemed to be getting thick and clustered with each breath he took. God, he never felt like this during the training missions.

But this wasn't a training mission. This was real life. The adrenaline was pumping through him hard, making him that much more eager to get down there. But at the same time, he wanted to stay on the ship for as long as possible. He checked his rifle for a third time, making sure the clip was in place, that the barrel was clear, that the pin slid smoothly.

He felt a hand rest on his forearm, forestalling another check of the weapon. He glanced to his left, catching his helmet on the Dropship's bulkhead. Sarah stared at him with a bemused look on her face.

"Will you relax?" she exclaimed. "You're worse than a baby that needs his diaper changing!" she pulled his hand up to her mouth and kissed it. He felt the fear drain away from him, the nervousness being replaced by a strange calm. She smiled at him, then turned back to checking her own rifle. He leaned his head against the steel wall and closed his eyes.

It had taken them over a week to fly out to the lush, forest world that was Derias Prime. Manny, on seeing it from orbit, now knew why people came out here for vacation. Intel had said that a small group of Covenant soldiers were camped near the woodlands of Yaeger, one of the many fishing villages on the planet. They had been there for a month now, not actually doing anything. The planet had been evacuated the moment the Covenant ships had entered the system, but after they dropped their troops, the ships exited the system and none had been back since. It wasn't wholly unlike the Covenant to do this; Manny had heard of Covenant squads staying on a planet for months at a time, gathering information on what life they found. It was only when UNSC forces appeared that they would put up a fight, and more often than not, the planet ended up getting glassed.

So far, since the evacuation, no UNSC forces had engaged the Covenant. With no human presence on the planet, Manny got the idea that ONI wanted to see what they would do. Derias Prime was known to be a very quiet and sedate colony world, one for resorts and holidays, so there were very few people on it at any one time. Intel stated that the 2.4 million people had been transported off the planet successfully within forty-eight hours of the Covenant appearing in-system.

Now all that was left to do was to clean up whatever Covenant resistance they found down there before the aliens bastards glassed the place. It may not tip the scales of the war, but a dead Covenant soldier meant they had one less to deal with later on.

Manny opened his eyes and stared over at the other side of the Pelican. Harris sat opposite him, calmly checking his rifle. He glanced up at Manny, giving him a thumbs up, then went back to his weapon. The final two weeks of boot camp had brought the two rivals together, something Manny hadn't expected at all. They had been placed on the same team in the last few exercises, and they had worked exceptionally well together. Whereas Manny thought Harris was just a bully, using brute force to get things done, he realised that the other man was actually a brilliant thinker. He came up with ideas that Manny hadn't even begun to think of, and they worked as well.

Fincher sat next to Harris, his helmet resting on the bigger man's shoulder. He was fast asleep. Either that or unconscious. But Manny knew Fincher too well, and recognised that he was, in fact, in a deep state of REM sleep. God, was he the only one who was nervous? He glanced up front; Corporal Harland stood clutching the overhead railing, staring blankly out of the service hatch. Manny and the others had warmed to Harland immediately, he had a certain air about him. Fincher, especially had gotten to like him, despite the Private saying something about how he thought Harland was "always staring at him". Sergeant Raynes came through the hatch that led into the cargo port and the cockpit.

"Alright, marines," he bellowed. "We're taking off in a few minutes, I want weapons stowed and gear checked. You know what you got to do! So do it!" he glanced around at the men and women sat before him. "Good luck!"

"Sir, yes sir!" the squad said in unison. Manny saw a smile cross Raynes' face as he turned back to exit back through the hatch. The troops clicked their weapons into the locking braces overhead and strapped themselves in, ready for the drop into orbit. The service ramp began to close, sending the tight space into darkness. Red lights came on as it did, illuminating everything in a ruby glow.

"T-minus ten seconds until dropship launch." Came the AI. "nine...eight...seven...six..." this was it, they were finally descending into combat, what could be their last moments. "three...two...one...dropship launching."
Manny felt the ship lurch suddenly from the bay, knocking him sideways into Cochran. After a few seconds of bouncing around, the ship steadied as it made the trip from the ship to the planet. Seconds seemed to pass as if they were minutes. The ship went eerily quiet, with only the engines making a sound. Manny breathed in deeply again, then released it, and felt the nervousness disappear. As he breathed in again he felt the adrenaline build up in him. He was ready. Ready as he'd ever be.

"Entering the planet's atmosphere." The Flight Lieutenant announced over the ship's com-system. "Get ready for some chop."

The craft bucked and swayed viciously as it grappled with the force of gravity. Manny felt his stomach lurch, felt vomit rise to the back of his throat then subside. The Pelican veered to the right, sharply, swinging down on a sudden cool current, then back up again, making all the passengers gasp at the sudden rise in G-Force. The next few minutes were easy going, followed by a few sharp jolts and they cleared ten thousand feet.

The hatch opened and Raynes came through. "Alright, people you got two minutes to assemble your gear and ready for insertion! Lets move people!" the passenger compartment suddenly became a blur of energy, people checking weapons, making sure their armour was fastened properly and generally looking out for anyone else who might have trouble. Just over a minute later, the dozen troopers sat quietly, their weapons at the ready, waiting for battle to commence. The rear hatch began to open, cool air seeping in through the gap. Manny inhaled, breathed in the smell of pine and dew.

The marines gathered themselves together outside the dropship, two taking covering positions, whilst the rest checked equipment. Raynes jumped down from the Pelican, spoke into his mic for the ship to leave, then moved over to the others and surveyed his team.

"Marines, we are the first squad in, Alpha team. After we check out the area, Bravo and Echo teams will dispatch and land two klicks away at a secure position. I want Cochran on point, Harris and Greggs, bringing up the rear. Stay alert people, now MOVE OUT!" he bellowed. The squad fell in step behind Cochran, who moved ten metres ahead, surveying the forest land around him. Light shone in through the dense vegetation as they entered, the giant trees dwarfing the troops. Manny was third from front, behind Grace and Harland. Grace was the squad's sniper, one of the best Manny had ever seen. The rifle was slung over her shoulder at the moment, an MA5B assault rifle sitting comfortably in her hands. As with all squads in the UNSC, the team had an assortment of weapons to deal with all threats they could face. As well as a sniper, they also had a demolition team, and a heavy weapons crew.

Fincher was one of the three marines carrying Lotus Mines and Anti-Personal charges, as well as four fragmentation grenades that was standard for all UNSC Marines. The other two people on the demo team were Sarah and Jackson. Carrying the squads Rocket Launcher was Walker, with Deiton standing as his loading partner, carrying extra ammo if it was needed. The demo team and the Heavy Weapons team were kept at the front and back of the squad respectively, so if they came under fire, it would be one or the other team to go down, rather than both. Raynes was in the middle of the line, with Tanya behind him, carrying the unit's com equipment.

They marched for ten minutes before Cochran signalled for the squad to stop. Without turning to face them, he put his hand out to the side, and motioned for the team to go down. Manny felt his pulse spike. Had he seen something? Wordlessly, the unit went to the floor, sweeping the foliage as they did. Manny couldn't spot anything, and couldn't hear anything either. His helmet's HUD displayed infrared, but nothing except the blue outlines of the trees and bushes showed up.

"What is it, Cochran?" Raynes said over the com. His voice was placid, and Manny didn't know the man well enough to know if that was a good or bad sign.

"Possible contact, sir. Eleven o'clock." Manny raised his head a little to see over Harland's backpack. He saw Grace had unslung her Sniper Rifle and was carefully readying it. Rather than the standard helmet, as all the other Marines wore, she wore a flat cap, so it didn't impair her vision. The disadvantage was that her head was unprotected.

"Go check it out, Private. Harland, Manors, give cover." Raynes replied. Manny slowly crawled passed Grace and up next to the Corporal. They both moved up into crouching positions, bringing their rifles up. Harland waved to the right, telling Manny to cover that side. When they were ready, Harland tapped Cochran's foot.

The Private began to crawl off into the bushes and in a few seconds, Manny couldn't tell where the man was. He breathed heavily, feeling his heart racing faster and faster. As far as Manny could tell, there was nothing out there. All he saw was dense, green bush and thick tree trunks.

"Er, Sarge," Cochran whispered into his mic. "You might want to come see this."

"What is it Private?" Raynes voice rang out, his voice sounding a little irritated.

"Covenant, sir. Dead Covenant." There was a long pause.

"Is it clear, Cochran?" Harland interjected.

"Sir, yes it is sir."

"Okay men," Raynes came back on. "Lets go." There was a flurry of movement as the team stood up, then quickly jogged to where Cochran stood. He leaned against a tree, staring out into a little opening. In front of him lay several blood splattered bodies. Manny had read the files on the Covenant, had seen the holos on them, and from what he could tell, in front of him lay five dead Jackals. The weird, bird like creatures lay at odd angles, their heads tilted back as if their necks were broken. Purple blood smeared the green grass, as well as the surrounding trees.

Harland walked into the middle of them. "Fincher, Walker, McCain, check out the area." Manny glanced over at Sarah as he heard three responses. She looked over at him, winked then turned her back to him, then quickly trotted off with Fincher and Walker.

"What do you make of it, Corporal?" Raynes said, looking over to Harland. The Sergeant rested his rifle on his shoulder, placing a hand on his hip. Harland bent down and touched one of the dead creatures.

"I don't know sir. It's not friendly fire, that's for sure. There are no plasma burns. That rules out execution from superiors, and the fact that they are armed backs up that." He shook his head, looking closely at the wounds. "This may sound odd, sire, but these look like bullet wounds."

"What type?"

"Not sure, possibly from a rifle. It's hard to tell. High calibre, that's for sure, the holes aren't exactly small."

"Sir," Manny piped up. "I thought all humans had been
evacuated from Derias."

"So did I," Raynes relied, shaking his head. "All civilians were shipped out, and there is no military base on this planet, just the planetary defence system that orbits it. I don't believe a holiday maker did this, and last sensor sweeps recorded say that there were no life signs of human origin on the planet. Heat sensors picked up the Covenant and that was it. With the exception of the planet's reactors for the various resorts, they were the only heat signatures given off."

"Sir, sensor sweeps don't often penetrate through forests," Manny added. "Maybe there were some left behind."

"It's possible, Private, but this are is a back-water location. The nearest city or resort is nearly ten thousand kilometres away, and they don't do round trips that big."

Harland came up from his crouch. "Sir, this isn't the work of a tourist or a lone security guard. Whoever did this is a professional. And I'm not talking Marine corps, I mean Special Forces. Which means we aren't the only humans on this planet."

"Meaning somebody lied to us," Raynes spat. "Any idea who?"

"Well, its not any Special Forces unit within the UNSC, I'll tell you that, otherwise we'd have known about. My best bet is its Naval Intelligence." The words sent a shiver through Manny, and he noticed, visibly it scraped on the other Privates as well. "As to who's lying to us, sir. Well, I wouldn't say lied to, more like they didn't know."

"Sir!" Fincher shouted as he came through the brush, his face flushed and red. Walker came in close behind, followed by Sarah. Fincher stepped up to Raynes, his hand outstretched. "We found these a few metres away, sir."
Raynes put his hand out, and Fincher tipped the contents into his palm. Manny heard the clatter of metal against metal. The sergeant held up a hand, in between his finger and thumb was a bullet casing. It was bigger than that utilised by standard assault rifles, but not nearly as big as the slugs an S2-AM used.

"Eleven millimetre carbide case." Raynes uttered to himself. "Shadow Rifle ammunition." He threw the metal cylinders to the floor with disgust. "God damn ONI bastards are here alright." He cursed.

Manny had heard of the Shadow Rifle. It was similar to the M1-5, but it was a lot deadlier. The weapon had a laser-sight, integrated, silencer, ammunition counter, as well as three different modes of fire. It was an extremely rare weapon, one that no UNSC personnel would ever see, and it was exclusively used by the Office of Naval Intelligence's Special Agents.

"Another thing, sir." Fincher said. "We got incoming Covenant forces."

All Roads Lead To Sol...Despite What The Map Says: Chapter 10
Date: 10 August 2003, 5:17 PM

Chapter 10

1750 Hours, April 13, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
Derias System, Derian Prime Theater
of Operations

"How many, how far?" Raynes muttered. Covenant patrols were one thing, but if it was an extermination force, the squad could be in for some heavy fighting.

"We counted six Grunts, two Jackals, sir." Fincher replied "Looks like a patrol. They were about two hundred metres West of here sir, coming this way. I'd give them a few minutes before they are on us"

Raynes thought for a moment. Engaging the patrol could bring more Covenant forces to their position, and without support from Bravo or Echo teams they could be in hot water if things got ugly. They'd have to be quick with this. Grunts were easy to take out, but Jackals were a different story. Their shields proved impenetrable, and the only way passed them was to either use grenades or flank them. Using Grenades in a tight space like they were in now could result in more human casualties than alien. They'd have to flank the bastards.

"Harland, Fincher, I want you two taking up flanking positions. Taylor, pick your spot, but fire only when I say so." Grace nodded to him. "I want the rest of you in a staggered line. Engage only on my orders, no grenades or explosives. Lets move people!" Harland and Fincher darted off into the woods, ducking behind a bush some fifty metres away. Grace shimmied up a large tree, settling twenty feet off the floor on a large branch. She rested her sniper rifle on an overhanging vine and tensed her body. The rest of the squad lay on their stomachs just behind the tree, their weapons locked and loaded.

Raynes stooped down next to Manny, bringing himself to his stomach. The ground was soft from the thick grass and gave Raynes room to settle. He readied his rifle and waited.

It wasn't long before they heard squawks and squeals from the two alien species as they neared. Despite constant reminders from ONI spooks to look out for new technology or new races within the Covenant, in all the years Raynes had been fighting them, Jackals and Grunts were the only two species he had ever come across. He hoped there were no more, as these two proved hard enough, though he had heard rumours of an Elite race, who controlled the military aspect.

If there was an Elite race out there, he hadn't seen them, but then again, Jackals were more than enough to deal with, and besides, when the ground forces did beat them back, the planet got glassed from orbit. The noise of the aliens, though still faint in the distance, was easily audible above the swaying trees and bushes.

"Keep it together, people," he whispered into his mic. "Short, controlled, bursts, concentrate on one target at a time."

The squeaks and grunts gained in volume, then abruptly stopped. "What's going on, Corporal?"
Harland's voice came back over the frequency. "I have no idea sir, we can't see them, but we heard a lot of commotion." Raynes raised his head and peered over the log he crouched behind. Fifty metres away, he could just about make out the shapes of Fincher and Harland in the distance, their armour reflecting the sunlight slightly. He saw Harland's helmeted head turn to look at him. He couldn't see the expression on his Corporal's face, but he knew something was up.

The Covenant were up to something. But what? They probably saw the drop ship fly overhead, but they couldn't possibly tell that they were here, at this position. He ducked back down and waited. Ten seconds went passed. Then twenty. A full minute passed and still nothing. Raynes knew something was amiss.

"Harland, Fincher, check it out."

"Sir, yes sir," they both replied over the com. He peered over the green foliage in front of him and saw two distance figures slowly move out away from them. This was getting creepier by the minute. First, dead Covenant, and the possible presence of an ONI agent, and secondly, Covenant that just disappeared into thin air. He turned back to see where Harland and Fincher were but could find no trace of them at all. They were gone from sight.




"Harland, Fincher, check it out." Raynes' voice boomed over the com. Harland replied, then shouldered his assault rifle, making ready to come out from cover. He tapped Fincher on the shoulder, indicating for him to move out. The Private inched forwards, his gun aimed low, slowly coming out from behind cover. He stopped two metres away and held his hand up. Harland released his breath, then moved quickly to the other side of the Private, stopping a metre or so away from him in a crouched position. He glanced over at Fincher, the other man's attention focused totally on the area in front of him.

The forest moved around them, trees swaying nonchalantly in the wind, bushes rustling from invisible hands. The noise played havoc with Harland's hearing, and he didn't know if he was hearing a Grunt sneak up behind him, or simply a tree blowing over his head. His eyes darted backwards and forwards, not sure where to look. He held his left arm out and moved it forwards. Fincher nodded and moved up several metres, stopping behind a bush, giving a quick wink to Harland before turning to face forwards.

Harland rushed forwards, passing Fincher, and into a small clearing, where he came face to face with a Jackal. And it was only gut instinct that stopped him from firing and giving his position away. In that split second of coming eye to eye with the beaked face of the alien, he could tell it was dead. It hung a few centimetres off of the floor, a thin wire wrapped round its neck and attached to a branch above. He stepped back and noticed there was another Jackal strung up next to it. The creatures that stood around 5'8" seemed to be taller than normal, probably because they were stretched out from being hung off the floor by their necks.

Their faces, although inhuman to Harland, still had that look of pain and confusion that a person had when they had been taken by surprise. At their feet lay six Grunts, large slice marks down their fronts and backs indicated a stealth attack. All of a sudden the memory of the Shadow Rifle shell flashed into his mind and he turned to yell back to Fincher but never got his words out as something hard slammed into his back, knocking him to the ground.
Pain erupted in his chest and the air was knocked out of him. Trying to force himself up onto his elbows, he felt an immense pressure push him back down to the ground. He tried to turn his head, but felt something cold and metallic rest against his cheek. Desperately trying to see what was going on, strained his eyes, but only saw the forest around him, as well as what looked like the muzzle of a pistol. He twisted his arms round and down the length of his body and tried to reach for his pistol, but a sharp kick from whoever was standing on him stopped the motion, and he grunted in agony.

He was about to give up and faint when the pressure lifted from his chest and he could finally move again. Air filled his lungs and he heard shouting and scuffling. He managed to pull himself up into a half-sitting, half-lying position and saw what it was that had taken him out. A black figure, kitted out in lightweight body armour and a helmet to match, rolled in front of him, the hulking form of Harris grappled to his back. He looked quickly behind him and saw the rest of the squad with their guns raised, but no one fired, mainly due to the fact that they could easily hit Harris as well as their mystery assailant.

Fincher was propped up against the tree, holding a bandage over his forehead, with Greggs crouched in front of him, the squad's Med kit opened out next to him.
The only Marine that wasn't doing anything to aid the situation was Manny, he just stood, his rifle hanging at his side, as he stared at the two figures on front of him. Harland looked back to Harris and his opponent. They had come out of the roll and the black figure now stood at a ready stance in front of Harris, who was approaching warily. The bigger man stood almost a whole head above the black-clad figure.

Harris lunged forwards, swinging a huge fist. The smaller man ducked down in the direction of the swing, then moved around it and came up, striking a double blow to Harris' chest. The big man was forced back a few feet. He steadied himself then launched back in again. He threw his whole weight behind his fist that, if it connected, would probably have killed the other person. But it never met its target. Again, the black suited ninja ducked and weaved, coming up behind Harris. He planted a foot into the back of Harris' knee, sending him to the floor.

The figure stood for a moment, breathing deeply, then turned back to the rest of the squad, leaving Harris lying on the floor, stunned. The helmeted head moved slowly from left to right, finally settling on Manny. Manny just stared back, flashes of recognition passing through his eyes. The tall man's mouth hung open a fraction, and a look of either sheer horror or stunned joy covered his face.

Gradually, the squad began to notice this, lowering their weapons to see what would happen. The helmeted figure seemed just as stunned as Manny did, not moving. Then, slowly, it moved its hands up to its head, and slowly removed the helmet. Harland was taken aback by the face beneath the visor, and he felt his chest hitch. He saw the rest of the squad do the same, as he stared at a man who had more than a striking resemblance to Manny. In fact, they could have been twins, except for the fact that the other man had darker hair, heavier set features, and lighter eyes.

Anger and happiness seemed to contort on Manny's face
"You're....you're dead..." he said, his voice trembling, from what emotion Harland couldn't tell. Manny finally stepped forwards and grabbed the other man, bringing him into his body in a hug. He obliged and wrapped his arms around Manny's frame. The two buried their heads in each others shoulders and Harland heard the muffled sound of laughter. When the two disengaged from each other, Harland saw a tear role down Manny's cheek.

"Would someone mind telling me what is going on here?" the slightly angered voice of Harris bellowed from behind them. Manny wrapped an arm round the other man's shoulders and turned to Harris, who was still lying almost prone on the floor.

"Dan Harris, I'd like you to meet my brother Bradley." Harris' head fell back onto the thick grass, as he released a deep groan.

"What is it with you and your family kicking the shit out of me, Manors?" Harris said, the humoured tone in his voice betrayed the annoyance that played on his face. Brad turned to Manny, a look of puzzlement on his face.

"I'll explain later," Manny replied. "So, you going to tell me why you're not dead?"

"We should probably get moving first," Brad replied, "There is a Covenant task force heading this way looking for you guys." His face turned a little sour.

"We got an RV point to get to, soldier," Raynes said, stepping forwards, a look of anger on his face. He clearly wasn't pleased with the presence of this man. "And you have some things to answer for."

"Well, technically Sergeant Raynes," Brad snapped back, and Raynes was taken aback by the other man knowing his name and rank. "I outrank you." He showed his left arm to the squad leader, the rank insignia of a Lieutenant emblazoned on his uniform. "But, since I am not an asshole, I'll let you keep command of your squad, and you can carry on with your mission."

"That's all well and good, sir," Raynes said, contempt dripping from his words, "but I demand to know why we weren't told there was an ONI presence on this planet."

"If I knew that, Sergeant, I'd tell you." Harland knew how to read reactions from people, and he knew from what Brad had said, he was genuinely telling the truth. And being the brother to Manny only reinforced that. The anger subsided a little on Raynes face, but not by much.

"Very well," he hefted his rifle "but if my men and I have to go through a god damned ONI debriefing when we get home, I'm coming after you," he smiled at the other man, then turned to his troops. "Right, soldiers, stop staring at Manors' long dead brother and get moving, you know what to do!"

All Roads Lead To Sol...Despite What The Map Says: Chapter 11
Date: 29 September 2003, 4:50 AM

Chapter 11

1900 Hours, April 13, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
Derias System, Derian Prime Theater
of Operations

The hike back to the RV point was a tough one for Manny. He had been relegated to the back of the line, whilst Brad was up front with Raynes, telling him why he was here. It was frustrating to say the least; he had just found out his brother wasn't dead, and he couldn't get a chance to speak with him about it. Still, the adrenaline from seeing him alive was still pumping through him, and kept him in good spirits.

It had taken the better part of an hour for them to get near the RV, and all Manny wanted to do was sit down and talk with Brad. But he knew it would never come, the moment they met up with the other two squads they'd either get to work immediately trying to defeat the Covenant, or Raynes would have Brad taken away to answer why the UNSC hadn't been told about an ONI presence on Derian Prime.

The RV point was a large, open area, where the two Dropships carrying Bravo and Echo squads were to land. Alpha squad go to work quickly and set up camp in the large plain.

Designated Camp Zero, it was basically a huge field. Trip wires and mines had been set up around the perimeter, and half the squad were put on patrol, to make sure nothing got near them. Three memory-plastic tents brought in by Alpha squad's Dropship acted as a Command Post, Med Point and a make-shift canteen. The canteen was designed for a hundred, but at the moment was only populated by a handful of men and women, waiting for the other two squads to drop in.

Manny sat with Walker and Harris, bowls of sludge in front of them. None of them spoke, mainly due to the fact that both Walker and Harris respected the fact that Manny had just found out his brother was in fact alive and thought it best not to speak unless spoken to. Harris sifted through the green food, searching for the slightest hint of any morsel deemed appetising. Walker just stared at Manny, his expression one of sadness and worry for his comrade.

Manny fingered a bread roll, contemplating whether to eat it or not, his mind on Brad who was confined to the command tent, a direct order from Raynes, despite the man's lower rank. Manny had the feeling that even if he did get to speak to his brother, he wouldn't hear what he wanted to hear. Harris had told him that due to Brad's involvement with the Office of Naval Intelligence, he would be restricted to saying very little about where he had been the passed year. But that wasn't Manny's main query. He wanted to know why his brother's death had been faked, why he and his family hadn't been told about it, and most importantly, why Brad hadn't told them. But despite trying to answer the questions himself, Manny came about the same conclusion every time. It came down to the simple fact that if Brad or any other ONI agent was thought dead, people wouldn't have to worry about them and would therefore not know of the activities they got up to.

Essentially in his parents mind, and many other people's minds, Brad didn't exist. But in the passed few hours, Brad had become more and more real by the second, not just a figment of Manny's imagination. But he was reduced to sitting in the hastily built mess hall with his comrades rather than finding out about Brad. Harris had tried to comfort the smaller man but found a barrier erected, and Walker's attempts to try and humour Manny proved fruitless.
Over an hour passed since their arrival at the clearing and there was no sign of Bravo and Echo squads as well as no sign of the Covenant Task Force Brad had warned them about. The three men sat in silence, trying to make conversation but failing miserably.

It wasn't until the loud roar of a Pelican dropship could be heard above them, followed by the rumbling sound of another. The threesome rushed out of the tent to see the metallic crafts hover above them, Warthog jeeps suspended from their bellies. Flares had been ignited to guide the ships in, giving the blue sky a reddish tinge.

The dropships extended their undercarriage and descended onto the grassy plain. As a dozen troops exited the ship, the lightweight transports were disengaged from the ships midriff, the jeeps landing with a metallic thud. Manny and Walker rushed over to the commanding officers of each squad and quickly briefed them on the situation, then guided the commanding officers to the tent where Raynes, Harland and Manny's brother currently resided. Before issuing a few quick orders, Staff Sergeant Bogg and Sergeant Major Hilner disappeared into the makeshift hut, leaving their men to get to work. Echo squad set up base East of the camp, relieving the three men from Alpha squad. Bravo squad set themselves up South-West of the command point, with the troops from Alpha squad moving to cover the North of the encampment.

Alpha squad assembled around Manny, who was seen by many to be the next in the chain of command were Harland or Raynes not present. The men and women stood, sat and squatted around the North perimeter, weapons ready. Manny had dug his knee into a grassy patch, and was kneeling down behind a large crate. Sarah came to settle next to him, placing her MA5B on top of the crate and turning to face him. She stared at him, a look of worry playing over her face.

"Are you alright?" she stroked his leg, trying to offer as much comfort as possible. He turned to her, knowing his expression was not one of happiness. He had sensed her watching eyes on him as they made their way out of the forest, and for some reason had found himself avoiding her when they reached the camp to set up. He exhaled deeply, taking her hand in his. Pulling it up to his mouth he kissed it gently, putting on the best smile he could manage.

"I'm fine," he replied, "just a little run down with all that's happened."

"I know you, this isn't easy for you, I know. Finding out someone you love isn't dead is a shock." She moved her hand to his face and stroked his cheek. "And the fact that you haven't had the chance to talk to him to set things straight can't make it any better."

He was about to reply, but realised everything she had said was exactly what he wanted to say. He felt a warmth build up in him. Leaning over, he kissed her on the forehead, not an easy thing to do with a great big helmet on his head.

"You'll get the chance to talk to him, you know you will." She reached and grabbed her rifle, settling into a crouch. "Just realise that the mission has to come first." She winked at him, them turned back to the dense forest in front of them. Manny thought for a minute, then hoisted his own weapon over the crate and into a firing position. He clicked his mic on.

"Okay, listen up people. Echo and Bravo have our backs so all we have to worry about is what comes this way. I want all explosives holstered. Trees have a nasty habit of bouncing projectiles, as well as falling down, so stick with your rifles only. Grace," he looked over to the dark skinned soldier. "I want you to find a position a hundred metres from here. If you see anything, relay it to us. Hold fire 'till I give the order." He took a quick look round the rest of the squad. They all looked ready. Nervous, but ready. "Stay sharp people."





Bradley Manors felt like he was in an interrogation room or something, what with the way the four men glared at him. He sat with his back to the wall, the chair up on two legs, resting against the thick plastic. The make-shift command point was basically a small tent. Consoles and communications gear had been set up around the small space, with a large table for the commanders to plan out their operation on. At the moment it was empty except for him and the squad leaders. Corporal Harland and Sergeant Raynes stood opposite him, with the other two Sergeants sat either side. One of them, Staff Sergeant Bogg, held a long, brown cigar between his finger and thumb, examining the smoke as it rose effortlessly into the air. His dark brown eyes didn't quite fit the rest of him. Too young. He looked a good thirty, maybe pushing forty, but his eyes betrayed that completely, a sense of youth clinging behind them.

Sergant Major Hilner, on the other hand, did look his age. His hair was streaked with grey, and despite it being no longer than a centimetre, it was still visible. Wrinkles and scars covered his face, turning his mouth into a grimace and his right eye into a constant squint. He leaned forwards, placing his elbows on his knees.

"So, let's start from the beginning, shall we?" he said, his sandpaper voice grating on Brad's ears. "Why exactly is an ONI ghost here, and why weren't we informed?"

"As far as I know, Sergeant, Naval Intelligence sent me down here to investigate Covenant activity. Contact with the enemy was to be kept to a minimum unless absolutely necessary." He rested his hands behind his head and forced the chair back a bit further.

"That doesn't answer our question, Lieutenant." All four of the non-coms had to take into account that they were outranked by him, and so therefore had to be careful about what they said. "Why send you down when they knew they'd have to send us down?"

"I have been here for nearly a month now, sergeant, taking note of everything the Covenant have done; their tactics, their weapons, their fighting abilities...everything that we need to know about them so we can kill them."

"But why not tell us?" Harland spoke up, his harsh voice cutting through the air.

"Because it's Naval Intelligence. Classified
information. You're not even supposed to know I'm here, I wasn't supposed to make contact with you. It was just blind luck. I'm in trouble, you're not." He smiled over at them, but their expressions only soured even more. "Look, ONI have suspicions that a new race has come into the playing field."

"Yes, we know that." Raynes snapped. "Some kind of commanding race."

"Yes," Bradley replied "And I've seen them. They haven't shown themselves on the battle field because they haven't needed to. The Grunts and Jackals can easily handle us in close combat. In most instances we have beaten them, but not without casualties, sometimes severe. I'm out here to see if these guys are here, and how they interact with the other species."

"Would you care to indulge us, Lieutenant?" Bogg said, his voice calm and precise. He blew a smoke ring up into the air.

"Sorry, sarge, that's classified intel." Raynes looked like he was about to say something, but caught himself before he did, biting down on his lip. "Look, you can question me as much as you want, but I'm telling you everything you need to know and more. In fact, I'm telling you people classified information."

The four men in front of him shifted uneasily. Harland walked over to the entrance of the command tent, leaning against the doorjamb. Raynes eased himself up onto the table behind him, swinging his legs up to rest his arms on.

"We're goin' to have to go through a god damned debriefing, aren't we." Hilner muttered. "God I hate those things. They make you out to be the enemy."

"I'm sorry it has to be like that, Sergeant." Bradley said, easing his chair down onto all four legs. "But what I have said here must go no further. I promise they'll go easy on you, as it is mainly my fault..."

"Mainly?!" Raynes snapped

"...and none of your men will need to go through it. Just you four. This is a very serious operation I'm in the middle of here, but it obviously seems that you guys are here to clean up, so that indicates my mission is over. So if you need me, I'm all yours." Hilner stood, walked over to Brad and patted him on the shoulder.

"You understand why we're pissed, right?" a smile broke across his face, contorting the scars into weird shapes. "Having an ONI ghost drop in on us isn't the most pleasant of things, especially as we now know something we really shouldn't."

"Don't worry, sergeant, I'll be the one getting it in the ass." The older man chuckled and walked away from him. Bogg stood, nodded to Brad and followed the other man out of the tent. Raynes came off of the table and stalked over to the Lieutenant.

"Look," he started "we need everyman we can get. I want you to do your own thing, unless one of us says something, alright? You do outrank us, but at the moment, we don't care about rank, we care about who lives and who dies."

Bradley smiled at the sergeant. "I completely understand."
"You know your just like your brother," Raynes said, pulling a cigarette from his top pocket. "Which brings me to another dilemma. Your supposed to be dead, and it is obvious that seeing you has put a strain on Jon. I want you to take the time you have between now and us engaging the Covenant to sort things out. I can't lose a man like him, he is one of the best men I have." He saluted the Lieutenant and turned towards Harland, who skulked by the exit still.

But before Raynes could say anything an explosion shook the command post to its foundations. Gun fire started up almost immediately, and Bradley and Raynes found themselves running outside.

"Shit," Raynes exclaimed. "This I did not want!"

All Roads Lead To Sol...Despite What The Map Says: Chapter 12
Date: 19 November 2003, 1:03 AM

Chapter 12

1930 Hours, April 13, 2547 (Military Calendar) /
Derias System, Derian Prime Theater
of Operations

Green plasma littered the clearing, the sound of weapons recharging, men and women screaming, and general chaos filled the air. The camp was being hit from all directions.

A split second later, the plasma bolts were answered with the solid sound of ballistic projectiles, fired in every direction except inwards. Trees exploded, metal cases shattered, and plastic tents melted from the onslaught. The forest around the troopers seemed to be alive, endless chittering and squeaking filled the marine's ears, along with the weapons fire. Alpha, Bravo and Echo squads engaged what they could see, trying to fight what seemed to be an invisible enemy. Manny peered over the fallen tree he had dived behind. He caught a glimpse of yellow armour, a green glow and the alien artefact that appeared from behind a bush. He ducked back down just as a plasma bolt struck the tree, sending wood splinters flying.

He raised his rifle over the log and fired blindly into the trees; if he had hit anything, he didn't see it dead on the floor. The incoming stream of green and blue was still just as strong. He looked down the ranks of his men, crouched behind whatever cover they could find. Walker, Fincher and Harris were to his right, trying to see anything in the dark woods. Sarah was on her belly to his left, Grace and Tanya lay next to her.

Grace had slung her sniper rifle and was using her pistol to try and pick out a target, but Tanya lay in a heap on the floor, blood seeping from a wound in her arm. Purple shrapnel littered the ground where she lay, but she appeared to be okay, just a little shaken. He could see her head moving, and her chest was falling and rising quickly. She may have been injured, but she was conscious, and above all, alive.

Someone landed heavily on the ground next to him. Manny glanced to his right; a red faced Harland turned to him, yelled something inaudible, then fired a steady stream into the forest in front of them. He came back down, slamming his back against the log. He glanced left, then right, then settled his eyes on Manny.

"Any injured?" he yelled, his voice barely a whisper next to the loud cracks and sizzles of battle. Manny pointed over to where Tanya lay. They both took a quick look over at her, to see Greggs at her side, tending the wound, his med pack open in front of him. Harland clicked a switch on his mic, "Bravo and Echo squads, any injury's to report?"

"This is Bravo team, only a slightly singed arm, but nothing serious. We were ready, so every one was behind cover."

"Echo team here," came back Bogg's corporal. "We have three down, we weren't so lucky. Two are just flesh wounds and slight burns, but one is serious. Our medic is with her now."

"Only a handful of casualties, good. Let's keep it that way." Replied Harland. He peeped over the log, only to be knocked back by the blast of a nearby plasma grenade. "How many do you reackon, Private?"

It took Manny a few seconds to realise he was talking to him. He looked at the older man, a look of surprise on his face. "I'd say upwards of around twenty, maybe more. It's impossible to tell."

"And they've got us pinned down," another voice said. Raynes had settled in behind Manny, his rifle locked and loaded in his hands. "They're held back by the pure fact that we're too well dug in. But they know we won't last forever."

Manny took a look around and realised someone was missing from the whole equation.

"Where's Brad?" he shouted, only rather than coming off as a simple question, it sounded more like a squeal for help. Raynes looked at him, a look of anger on his face.

"God knows." He shook his head. "The moment they hit us, he was gone quicker than a fly off shit! If he's out there, he'd better make a difference."

As if he had been waiting for his cue, Bradley piped up over the com. "Sir, this is Lieutenant Manors," the stony voice filled Manny with relief. "I've just down a reconnoitre of our enemy. They got twenty at each position, fifteen grunts and at least five jackals, give or take a few."

"What about those big bastards you told us about?" What big bastards? Manny looked at Raynes sceptically, but got no answer to his question.

"No sign of them, Sergeant. Like I said, they don't fight because there is no need to. Believe me, we, or should I say you, won't see them until they want you to see them." There was a click that signalled the end of the conversation. Manny glanced at Harland and Raynes in turn. Neither of them looked happy. A blast nearby shook the log, showering them in dirt and grass.

"Sixty of 'em" Harland muttered to himself. Raynes composed himself and clicked his mic on.

"Alright people, we're wasting ammo here. I just got word that we have twenty Covie bastards each. At least fifteen grunts, and a handful of Jackals. This isn't going to be easy, gentlemen."

Hilner's voice echoed in Manny's helmet. "We need to co-ordinate. If they keep up at us like this, we're going to get cut to shreds, not to mention the fact that the fire coming in can hit any one of our squads."

"What do you suggest, sir?" Bogg replied.

"Well, try and get that Manor's boy to take a few out himself, that should make them uneasy." Hilner said. Manny looked at Raynes as if to say does he mean me? But the sarge shook his head. "Bravo squad, Bogg, only fire if you have a target in sight. At the moment, it seems they are only trying to find weak spots. If they find that we re firing blindly, they will capitalise. Same goes for you, Alpha squad. But I'll be sending the Lieutenant round to your side, so be ready to make a move. You with me people?" a series of yessir's and roger's came back over the frequency.

"Right, you heard the Major," Raynes said to his troops. "Manny's brother is gonna take some of the flak off of us. When he's clear, I want a rocket in there, as well as grenades. Once the dust has cleared, we're going over. Once that is done, we'll spit up and sweep round to help out Echo and Bravo." He looked around at his men. "Let's do this." He snapped back the catch on his rifle and fired a burst into the woods.

For five minutes they waited, popping up in two's and three's, firing off a few rounds at a time. Between those five minutes, the enemy's fire calmed until only when a marine stuck his head up did they fire. As the fire died down, Manny strained to hear his brother, a few metres away, but all he got was a ringing sound in both ears from the constant gun-fire.

Since the start of the battle, only Tanya had sustained any serious injury, and after a once over from Greggs she was back in position, her rifle tight in her grip.
Manny looked over at Sarah, he face rigid with anticipation. She was taking long, deep breaths. Others would have seen it as a sign of nervousness, but he knew it was the adrenaline pumping. The moment the signal was given, she would be the first out of cover. She glanced over at him, gave him a wry smile, then went back to concentrating on what was to come.

There was a loud bang, and the all-too-familiar voice of Bradley reverberated in his ears. "Six down, Sarge, they're all yours!"

"Let's hit them marines!" Raynes yelled, his voice a roar. Walker stood up straight, the Jackhammer launcher on his shoulder. A split second later, a rocket had exited the chamber and flew towards the nearby trees. As it exploded against the nearest living thing, the rest of the squad threw their grenades. Half of them bounced harmlessly out of range, but the other half destroyed a ten-metre area. Manny heard screams and cries of pain from what he could only gather was the enemy. Purple and blue blood spattered nearby trees, black scorch marks scathed the ground. As one, the squad leapt out from where they were hiding and sprinted into the woods, rifles at the ready. Manny came up next to Raynes, who swiped his weapon backwards and forwards, looking for a target.

Something shouted from behind a bush. Manny rushed forwards to the green foliage, dived through it and came out the other side on top of a small beast. It couldn't have been more than a metre and a half tall, wearing a thick yellow suit. It's stubby legs waved in the air as it lay flat on its back. It tried to bring its arm round, but couldn't due to Manny's bulk on top of it. A grotesque mask covered the alien's face, and the noises it emitted were high pitched and hurt Manny's ears.

But before he could silence the creature, a shot rang out, and it's head exploded in a mist of blue liquid. The marine looked up to see his brother there, a smoking rifle in his hands. He offered his sibling a hand up, which Manny gladly took. They both smiled hesitantly at each other, before they realised that duty came first, war stories came second.

Manny looked around at the rest of the team. They had finished their check and were awaiting Raynes' orders. Without uttering a word, Raynes made a series of hand movements, and then jogged off to the left of the camp. The squad split in half, with Harland going to the left and Raynes leading to the right. Manny fell in behind his brother, who favoured the Corporal's side.

In silence, except for the hustle and bustle that their armour and packs made, they made their way round to Echo team, and their attackers. Settling in twenty metres away, they got a clear view at the enemy. Positioned a few metres into the forest were a large group of grunts, with jackals taking up flanking positions on either side of them, their shields covering everything but their plasma pistols.

"Okay people," Harland whispered "here's how it's going to go. I want the front two using grenades on the grunts. The lieutenant and I will take out the furthest group of jackals, the rest of you take out the nearest." He waited a few seconds. "NOW!" he yelled.

The forest erupted in a hail of bullets. Two well-placed grenades took out over half the grunts, and all but two of the jackals were left standing. The bird-life aliens pivoted in towards them, bringing their shields up, and firing of a lethal volley of fire. Manny sprinted forwards, covering the twenty metres in a few seconds. He lashed out with a foot at the nearest jackal, knocking the alien to the ground. He kicked the shield away from the jackal's body and fired into its chest, spilling purple blood onto the ground next to it. It's head lulled forwards for a second, struggling for breath, then it went limp. He looked up to see that the remaining jackal had been taken care of, as well as the rest of the grunts.

Echo squad came up from behind their cover, moving swiftly over to them, Hilner giving Harland and his men a nod. Manny felt a moment of triumph rush over him, but before he could let it take him over, his thoughts were shattered when he heard a blood-curdling scream from behind him. Not ten metres away lay Greggs, his arms cradling his chest and stomach. The others knelt beside him, looks of terror ripe on their faces.

Manny rushed over to them, crouching down by Greggs' head. The large man lay sprawled on his back, blood gushing from multiple wounds on his chest and stomach. The ground was slick with crimson. Echo team's medic was fumbling through his pack, trying desperately to help him.

"What happened?" Manny yelled. He looked around at his comrades. Tanya was at his side, sobbing into his blood stained chest; her eyes were shut tight, tears running down her face. He felt dread run through him, a moment of anger, and then utter helplessness.

"He took three needle rounds in the chest and stomach." Muttered Harland, who stood rigidly over the prone figure. If the Corporal had anything more to say on the matter, he kept it to himself. Greggs screamed out again, spitting blood into the air as he did so. Manny wanted to look away, but couldn't take his eyes of the man's gaping wounds.

The medic, on the other hand was doing his best to avert his eyes as he tried to hold in Greggs' intestines. He pulled out a can of bio-foam, stuck it in the open wound and squeezed. Greggs screamed even louder. The medic then quickly wrapped the wound, but the moment the white fabric touched his body, it turned a deathly red, soaking up the blood in an instant.

Manny reached over and grabbed Greggs' hand, squeezing it tight.

"You're gonna be alright, buddy," he said, "you're gonna be alright." He looked into the other mans eyes; they were glazed and full of pain, but through it all he managed a smile.

"Don't lie to me." he said, a painful smile crossed his face and he screamed out again. Tanya grabbed his other hand.

"Hold on, you son of a bitch, I won't let you die on me!" she yelled, the emotion rushing out of her. She wiped her face and smiled down at him, but as quickly as the smile came, it faded, and her face crumpled up again. "Don't die on me..." she whispered.

But it was too late.

The large form went limp. The man's eyes stared blankly up into Manny's. And even though he knew he was dead, Manny still gripped his hand as tight as he could. He didn't know how long he had been kneeling next to him for; it could have been hours, days. He felt a hand on his shoulder, knowing whose it was and he grabbed for it.

"He's dead, Jon," the soft, female voice came. He didn't want to hear it, but he'd rather it came from the woman he loved than from anyone else. Slowly, he got to his feet, finding the strength to wrap himself around Sarah. And then he just let himself go. He cried uncontrollably into her shoulder, feeling her embrace tighten around him.

He heard people shuffling around him, heard murmurs of the man that once was Greggs, heard Raynes' voice, Harland's, Grace's, Fincher's. But it was the scream that came from Harris that brought him crashing back to reality. Greggs had screamed out of pain, something that any other person would have done. But Harris screamed out of complete devastation.

Manny turned to see him cradling Greggs body in his arms, rocking backwards and forwards on his haunches, tears streaming down his cheeks, his face full of sadness and anger. It was more than anyone could take, losing a comrade. Echo and Bravo teams drifted back to the camp, the rest of Alpha squad gathered round Harris as he continued to hold the still form that was once his best friend. From that day onwards, none of them would be the same. None of them would be this emotional about losing a friend again, they would hold it deep down inside of them, only to let it out when they felt right. They all knew this, every single one of them.

And even though Harris calmed down to a hushed mumbling, the sound of his cry of anguish would be etched in their minds for all eternity.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Just Make Sure To Bypass Mars: Chapter 13
Date: 1 December 2003, 3:59 AM

Section 3: Just Make Sure To Bypass Mars
Chapter 13

1200 Hours, August 14th, 2549 (Military Calendar) /
United Nations Space Command Priority Transmission
09805I-62
Encryption Code: NONE
Public Key: file/orders 5769/

From: Lieutenant Peter L. McCasky, Commanding Officer, 2nd Platoon,
UNSC 81st Marine Corps/
(UNSC Service Number: 09562-46559- LM)

To: Sergeant Usaf Raynes, Alpha Squad Leader, 2nd Platoon,
UNSC 81st Marine Corps
Subject: Orders (plus a few commendations)
Classification: BEAT Directive (F.Y.E.O)

/start file/
Congrats on having the second best service record in the 81st, Sergeant, a ceremony is to be held after this weeks mission to Corona. In the two years of commanding Alpha Squad, you have lost only two men:

Private W Greggs (KIA, April 13, 2547)
Private J Deiton (KIA, December 25, 2548)

I understand a few of you men already have an array of medals (several purple hearts and a number of stars and ribbons), but the following men under your command (which I believe to be ALL of you men as accounted for) are to be award with the UNSC Award of Conduct, something which is pretty common among platoons, but NOT common for every single member of your unit to garnish one. Here's the list as I understand it:

Sergeant U Raynes (Commanding Officer, Alpha Squad)
Corporal S Harland (Second in Command, Alpha Squad)
Private First Class J Manors
Private Second Class D Harris
Private T Robson
Private G Taylor (Sniper)
Private S McCain (Demolitions)
Private K Walker (JH Operator)
Private S Fincher (Demolitions)
Private P Connor (JH Loader)
Private G Cochran
Private F Wilks
Private W Jackson (Demolitions)
Private D Hutchins

Well done, hope it doesn't go to your/their heads.

Now down to business

As you may well know, 2nd platoon, along with the rest of the 81st are going to Corona III, a large Colony world that has been tagged for attack by the Covenant. It will be a basic attack, with all platoons attacking the coast (where the Covenant are believed to take up defensive points). Not much can be said at the time, but you need to muster your men by 0800 hours, August 16th, at base of operations aboard the UNSC Carrier Pliskin. There you and your men will be briefed on what to expect and how to handle the situation, not that you need it. It will be a long flight, and we'll be in the freezers for the duration. Should be there by the end of the month, if there's anything left.

McCasky, out
/end file/




1100 Hours, August 16th, 2549 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Carrier Pliskin, Epsilon Eridani System
Orbiting Reach

The briefing had been a boring and arduous one, the same old stuff, on the same old things. Nothing changed, apart from the planet. But Manny got the sneaking suspicion this was different. They had been told everything about Corona; temperature changes, water percentage, indigenous life forms, the usual. The Covenant had shown up, just as expected, a day earlier, decimating the biggest city. They had taken up base along the coast, and a huge number of ground-to-air plasma batteries meant an air assault by the UNSC was out of the question. Covenant troops numbered in the thousands, and since they couldn't land nearby, it meant the only other option would be a water assault.

The marines would be using light-armoured rigs to transport them onto the beach, then once they had cleared the main defence away, armoured support would be brought in. It would be then just a matter of taking out the ground-to-air cannons and allowing air support to move in.

But even though it all sounded very simple, it also sounded decidedly dangerous. There was a whole company in on this mission, totalling in more than two hundred troops. And the idea of a head-on assault reminded him of the distant wars of the 20th century, when Allied troops attacked the coasts of France in a bid to head of the Nazi attack of Europe.

But these were desperate times, and that called for desperate measures. It would be a tough battle, and for the first time in a long while he felt a little nervous. He rolled over in his bunk and threw an arm round the warm body lying next to him. Sarah replied by resting her head on his chest. They had an hour before they went in the freezers, a little down time they had earned from the last op.

The couple lay on Manny's bunk, which he'd been allocated when they came aboard. The room contained four beds, two on either side, one on top of the other, with locker space for their kit. Despite the fact that he outranked his three "room mates", he had been lumbered with the bottom bunk next to the door. But it didn't matter. They'd only be spending at the most two hours in the small rooms, and wouldn't be sleeping in them either; it was strictly for use before and after their duration in the cryo tubes.

Manny inhaled heavily, taking in the warm air. He did this before flights in stasis, seeing it as his final few moments before he stopped breathing entirely when in the pods. Sarah nuzzled his neck, kissing it lightly.

"You nervous?" she said, her voice soft and gentle.

"Little bit," he replied. He felt Sarah go tense a little. Before every mission she asked him if he was nervous or not, and his usually reply was that he wasn't in the slightest. But this time, he wasn't so sure. It had been two years since they first got together, and they hadn't spent more than a week away from each other. They knew each other better than they knew themselves, but that came with living, breathing, sleeping and eating together. The first few weeks had been great. They had fallen in love so easily. Then came the squabbles and petty arguments, despite going through several serious engagements with the Covenant.

Now all they felt for each other was true love, a bond that couldn't be broken, utter devotion. It was if they were the same person.

"That ain't good." Came the husky voice of Fincher who lay on the adjacent bunk. He lay on his side, with his back to them so it was impossible to tell if the man was being serious or not. "You ain't been nervous about a mission in two years. Not since Greggs died." A pang of sadness washed over Manny, the thought of Greggs dying in front of him coming back as if it had happened yesterday.

It also made him think about his brother. The moment they had stepped off of the Pelican and onto the ship home, Bradley was whisked away, and Manny hadn't seen him since. He had thought about sending word to his parents that Brad was still alive and well, but decided against it, just in case he had ONI to deal with. And that he did not want.

"This time is different." He said, his voice devoid of emotion.

"In what way?" another voice came into the mix. Harris was in the bunk above Manny. Since Greggs' death, he had become a different person. His arrogant persona, which had dulled a little during boot, had completely vanished. He focused solely on his duty, and gave a hundred and ten percent in what ever he did.

Manny didn't know which one he preferred, the old Harris or the new one. Either way, he was still a great warrior, and Manny was proud to have him at his side.

"I don't know, it just feels...different." Manny replied. He glanced over at the opposite bed, up at Fincher's bunkmate, Hutchins. The man had been Greggs' replacement two years ago. He was short with tousled brown hair, and a young face. When he came he had been scorned by the rest of the squad and told he would never live up to what Greggs was. But that couldn't have been more further from the truth. He had proved himself and more, as well as becoming fast friends with everyone. His sense of humour was matched only by his ability as a soldier.

The younger man looked back at Manny, half hanging out of his bed. "Different in what way?" his voice, although quiet, still carried.

"It just sounds weird that we're going in head on, like they used to in the old days, during the world wars back on Earth. I know it's the only option, but it just sounds like suicide." He rolled onto his belly and closed his eyes. "Let's just hope it's not."





Manny was suddenly aware that he was awake, and opened his eyes. They felt thick with gunk, and he had to blink to clear the fog that hovered in front of his vision. He took a deep breath, but found himself choking on the slime in his throat.

"Sit up, Private Manors," a soothing male voice echoed in his head. "Sit up, take a deep breath and cough. You have to regurgitate and swallow the protein complex." Manny did so, swinging his legs over the side of the form-fitting bed. He took another deep breath then retched, producing a long stream of liquid. He tried to hold some of it in, but failed miserably, and was left with a bitter taste of lemon in his mouth.

Glancing around, he saw the rest of his squad mates clambering out of their beds, retching as they did so. He caught Fincher's eye and winked at him. The other man gave him a sleepy smile.

"All military personnel are required to be combat ready by eleven-hundred hours. The time now is ten-thirty, on August thirtieth, twenty-five forty-nine, by the UNSC military calendar," the AI said, it's voice very matter-of-factly. The voice irritated Manny slightly, but then again, all military grade artificial intelligences did.

He fell in behind Tanya as they ambled towards the showers, ignoring Raynes' tirade of 'abuse' at them, telling them to "hurry up, maggots!" and "don't make me angry," They knew the drill, they'd been doing it since boot camp. But in a sense it did wake them up, as well as getting Raynes in a good mood; shouting at them now, meant not shouting at them later.

They quickly showered and kitted up, then double-timed it to the cantina for breakfast. There was plenty of banter around the tables as the different squads and platoons intermingled with each other. Manny and Harris sat themselves next to a group of boys from 1st platoon, and quickly got into the conversation about today's drop, swapping quips and jokes about each other's squads, or leaders. It was the usual stuff. The 81st, just like every other company, was a tight-nit bunch. There was always competition between the platoons, as well as the individual squads, but it was all humour. In a way it shielded them from what was about to come. In a few hours, the people that Manny chatted to now may not even be alive. Hell, he could be dead himself.

After they had finished their meals, the chatter died down a little. Harris peered over at Manny. Lighting a cigarette, Manny gave him a quizzical look.

"What's up?"

"You still nervous?" his voice was deadly serious now, compared to the voice he had used to tell McGuire from First that his mother was a whore. Manny stared at him for a while.

"Ask me that after we're back here." He smiled, but knew it was weaker than he wanted it to be. Without exchanging another word the two men got up from the table and prepared for the battle that was to come.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Just Make Sure To Bypass Mars: Chapter 14
Date: 1 December 2003, 4:03 AM

Chapter 14

1100 Hours, August 30th, 2549 (Military Calendar) /
Coron System, Corona III, Theater
Of Operations

The bucking and swaying of the small, sea-bound craft was making Sarah queasy, and she had to grab hold of Walker to stop herself from falling over. She felt vomit rising inside, but forced herself to hold it down. The last thing Walker probably wanted was for her to puke all over him. She gripped her shotgun tighter, pointing the barrel down at the floor. Taking a deep breath, she looked round for Manny. He stood three people back, on the other side of the boat from her, his eyes closed as if he were in deep thought.

But she knew that he was probably feeling just as sick as she was. The small craft was cramped and stuffy, and the fact that it was completely enclosed didn't help either. He had overcome his fear of drop ship launches after the very first mission, but she knew that was the face he pulled when he was nervous about something. And right now, Sarah didn't know whether it comforted her or worried her. Manny had always been the group instinct, and whenever they were on a mission, or going into battle, the squad always turned to Manny whenever they felt like something was wrong.

And right now, it was clear that he was uneasy about something, be it seasickness or something else. The ship dipped suddenly, making Sarah grab onto Walker's backpack. He overbalanced and fell back onto her, squashing her between his pack and Grace, and somehow having the other woman's sniper rifle sticking in her ass. With some basic manoeuvring and lots of swearing and cursing, all three were back to upright positions. But in spite of it all, Sarah still felt nauseous.

They had been dropped in the sea by Pelicans over ten minutes ago, and were told it was only a mile or so offshore. But these lightweight speedboats could reach velocities of up to a hundred and fifty kilometres per hour and if her calculations were correct, they should have been there nine minutes ago.
Suddenly, as if her thoughts were answered, the dull green light snapped off. A split second later, a dull red hue filled the cabin. And Raynes' booming voice filled her ears.

"Alright people, we'll be landing in a matter of minutes. I want weapons checked and ready. It's going to be messy when we jump outta here!" Although Sarah couldn't see Raynes, his voice reassured her. She twisted the shotgun in her grip, checking the safety was off and the barrel was clear. She pumped it once, then put the safety back on.

The squad waited in silence, the only noise being the water as it sloshed against the side of the boat. Then it came. A loud horn sounded throughout the small space, making half the squad flinch. Then the doors at the front of the boat blew open, spilling sunlight into the cabin. Sarah willed her legs to move, and ran as quickly as they allowed her to go. As she exited behind Walker, she nearly tripped over a prone form. She glanced down quickly and saw the twisted face of Connor, one of the Jackhammer loaders.

He writhed in pain on the sand, blood pouring from a wound in his leg. But before Sarah could stop to help him, she was forced all the way out of the boat by an explosion and into the sunlight. It seemed like all hell had broken loose. No sooner had her feet touched the ground did the sound of utter chaos reach her ears. The beach on which she stood sloped upwards for a hundred metres, where camped along the sea wall were numerous Covenant gun emplacements, each one firing deadly plasma down onto the boats. The turret of a Covenant tank was also visible, firing every seven or eight seconds, taking massive chunks out of the ground in front of it.

Twenty metres or so down from them were infantry placements that the Covenant themselves had set up. They were basically metallic tents that had a large slit in them so they could fire out of them and be protected at the same time. Sarah didn't know how many was in each tent, but there seemed to be a constant barrage of plasma and purple needles coming from each one. Just beyond the tents, and not even fifty metres away from where the marines had landed was a giant trench, where occasionally a Grunt would pop its head up and launch a grenade as far as it could.

It was like Normandy all over again.
She looked to her left and then to her right as she hurried to tuck in behind a large cover-shield that had been set up by an engineer. Plasma bolts pounded against it, scorching the metal, and making it hot to touch, and needles ricocheted off of it like hailstones.
The length of the shoreline was littered with the sea-craft that had transported the marines onto the beach. Many had been completely destroyed by enemy fire, and at least three were on fire, their passengers flinging themselves out of them, trying to put the flames out that engulfed them. Dead bodies littered the beach, blood staining the sand beneath them.

Sarah tried to gather up her thoughts, trying to hear passed the carnage, to see her fellow comrades. Something heavy landed on her back and she panicked for a split second before she realised it was Manny. Blood streaked his face and his helmet was missing, but other than that he seemed fine.

"I TOLD YOU I HAD A FUNNY FEELING ABOUT THIS!" he yelled. Without his helmet, he couldn't talk to anyone without being face-to-face with them, and with all the noise around them, even that would be hard. "WHERE'S THE SARGE?!" he looked around, puzzled.
Sarah shook her head, and mouthed 'I don't know'. The earth shook as the Covenant tank let off another round.

"WE NEED TO TAKE OUT THAT TANK!" Manny yelled back. His head darted backwards and forwards, then he waved at someone out of Sarah's line of sight. A moment later, Cochran, Walker, Harris and Fincher were all huddled next to them, trying to get every inch of their bodies as far from the enemy fire as possible.

"WHERE'S RAYNES?" Manny yelled again, aiming his voice at Walker. Walker motioned that he couldn't hear a thing and rummaged in his bag for a minute. A look of annoyance spread across Manny's face, but turned into a smile when Walker handed him a com-set. He strapped it to his head and tuned into the right frequency. "Any more shouting and I'd have lost my voice! Where's Raynes? I couldn't get him on the radio."

"We don't know," Fincher said. "Last I saw of him he was moving quickly up the beach."

"What about Harland?"

"He was right behind the sarge!" the ground shook as a grenade went off nearby, sending sand over the makeshift shield.

"What about everyone else?"

"Wilks and Jackson are dead," Cochran said, a slight tremble in his voice. "Wilks got a plasma bolt in the face, Jackson got needled." The thought of Greggs popped into Sarah's head for a split second, then vanished as the Covenant tank fired yet another round into the sand. This time though, it landed not ten metres away from where they were ducked down. It knocked them all back, and forced Fincher to scramble out of the open and back into the protection of the shield.

"Yo, rocket jockey!" Manny yelled, slapping Walker's helmet. "You think you can take out that tank?" the other man looked sceptically back at the private.

"I ain't got my loader with me," Walker replied. "Anyone seen Connor?"

"Yeah," Sarah shouted over the hail of plasma. "He was lying injured outside our boat last time I saw him."

"And I saw him a few seconds without a face," Fincher grunted. "He's dead."

"You've got enough ammo, though?" Manny said to Walker.

"I got eight rockets with me, yeah."

"Plus two up the pipe, that's fine." Manny yelled back. "Cochran can help you!"

"You got a plan?" Fincher said into his mic. Manny turned and winked at him.

"From what I can see, the turrets are way out of range to do any real damage. The barricades are also too far away to have any real degree of accuracy, and the Grunts in the trench can be taken out with some well-placed grenades. Which leaves the tank, and that is the most accurate and deadliest thing I can see at the moment." He looked around for a moment, then fiddled with his ear piece. "Bravo squad, Echo squad, do you copy, this is Alpha squad, requesting assistance."

"Who doesn't?" a rough a grizzle voice replied. Sarah, hearing all this in her own ear-piece recognised the voice as Corporal Boid, of Bravo Squad. "Hilner's down, along with half our squad. And from what I can see, everyone else is doing pretty badly!"

"Amen to that," came Bogg, Echo squads Sergeant. "In what way do you think we can help you, Private Manors?"

"The way I see it, sir, is that the only real threat at the moment is the tank. Now, seeing that me and my squad mates are nearest to it, I'm taking the initiative to neutralise it. Those make shift bunkers don't seem to be too much of a problem, but could use a rocket or two anyway. Snipers can take out the turrets, and we can grenade the trench. If done simultaneously, we can effectively neutralise half their defence, if not more."

There was a long pause, and Sarah thought that Bogg was going to come back on the radio and threaten Manny with a court-martial for being so stupid.

"That sounds like a damn good idea, Private." Bogg said. "Just give the signal. I have my men ready as we speak. I also piped through to the other platoons, they're ready when you are."

"Me too, " Boid said. "Just tell us when, I got all my boys on you frequency."

"Looks like you got your fifteen minutes, buddy" Fincher grinned at him, then slapped him on the back. Manny blushed a little, then knelt up more and laid down the general plan. Manny and Fincher were going to lay down suppressing fire on either sides of the cover, whilst Cochran and Sarah threw grenades into the trenches. As this was going on, Walker was to launch a salvo at the tank.

"Shouldn't we get Grace up here to help with the turrets?" asked Sarah.

"That's a damn good idea," Manny said. "Taylor, where are you?"

"On my way to you, Manny." Grace's voice came back; she sounded out of breath. "Just happened to overhear your conversation.

"So did we," another voice said. "And as your commanding officer I order you not to throw grenades into the trench!" the others laughed. Sarah allowed herself a grin, but kept focused.

"Thought you were dead, Sarge. How many did you rack up this time?"

"I'll tell you when we get out, boy. Raynes, out." Manny quickly relayed to the other squads and platoons not to grenade the trench unless they were positive of enemy activity. He also told Sarah and Cochran to run to the trench when everything was clear as they got into position. Sarah looked passed Fincher to see the slight frame of Grace as she dashed towards them.

But before she made it, a hail of plasma fire scorched her side and she was flung to the ground. Sarah cried out in anguish at seeing her friend getting hit.

"Grace! Grace!" she shouted. "Grace, honey, are you okay?" there was no reply. And Sarah knew there wouldn't be one either. The limp form lay motionless, black scorch marks littering her upper body and helmet. She felt tears well up inside her, but forced herself to stay calm. A hand reached out and squeezed her shoulder.

"She's gone Sarah," Manny said. I know that, you idiot! But she didn't say it, primarily because she didn't mean it. She grabbed for his hand, but he pulled it away before she got a hold of it. She lifted her shotgun up and made ready to dash for the trench.

"Now!" Manny shouted into his mic. He and Fincher rolled out of the cover and rattled off a dozen rounds at the bunkers, then rolled back in. As they did so, Walker stood up and lifted the rocket launcher over the cover in one fluid motion. A second later he had fired off a round. Another second passed and the second rocket streaked out towards the Covenant tank. There were two distant explosions as they all saw the tank flinch from the first rocket, then crumple under the force of the second one. There was a cheer over the radio, and Walker got a clap on the back before the Covenant started to retaliate, briefly concentrating their fire on where the tank's destroyer was.

Everybody ducked back down, and Sarah could see a sudden movement up and down the beach as marines ran towards the trenches, weapons firing. Rockets streaked out at the bunkers, two, three, four of the bunkers exploded instantly. Marines fell under Covenant fire, Covenant fell under Marines fire. It was war.

"Lets get to that trench, people!" Manny yelled into his mic. Sarah picked herself up off of the floor and ran towards the giant gap in the sand. She pumped her legs as hard as she could, trying to get more speed, despite her boots sinking into the sand. Slinging her shotgun over her shoulder, she clicked the release catch on her backpack, and it fell to the ground behind her, giving her more room to run and less to run with.

Manny was quite a way behind, with the others bringing up the rear. Sarah threw herself into the trench, landing heavily on her shoulder. She pulled herself up quickly, dusting off her trousers, then whipped out her shotgun, checking for any sign of the enemy. There was no sign of the Covenant, but more importantly, there was no sign of Raynes or Harland. She ran a few metres to her right, coming up to a barrier. She checked it was clear then went back to where she had entered the trench. Manny and the others hadn't even made it to the trench yet.

As she turned to go back to the barrier, she felt something flash across her thigh. Despite the lack of pain, she knew it was a Covenant plasma bolt. Heat seared her flesh and her combat pants melted under the intense energy blast. She felt dizzy as another bolt struck her chest armour, sending her to the floor. The noise around her seemed to dampen, as her vision went black.
She felt something grabbing at her, but lost consciousness before her brain could interpret whether it was good or bad.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Just Make Sure To Bypass Mars: Chapter 15
Date: 1 December 2003, 4:06 AM

Chapter 15

1130 Hours, August 30th, 2549 (Military Calendar) /
Coron, Corona III, Theater
Of Operations

When the plasma bolt hit, Manny didn't know what to do. At first anger raged through him, then sadness, then anger again. When the second bolt hit, Manny was almost at her side, a bitter taste entering his mouth. As she fell to the ground, he was at her side, grabbing at her, hoping, wishing for her to be alive. He didn't care that a Jackal was firing off round after round at him, trying to kill him. He lay on the ground, cradling Sarah in his hands, tears streaming down his face. Fincher and the others rushed passed him and put down the Jackal, but even though Sarah's killer was down, it didn't make him feel any better.

He ripped off her helmet and pulled her head towards his, kissing her forehead, her cheek, her neck, just wishing that she'd come back to life. He clutched at something that wasn't there any more, felt everything disappear out of his grasp. Harris, Fincher and Walker came to kneel by him, Cochran standing just off from them, his eyes watering a little. He buried his head into her chest, letting himself go completely. He didn't even notice Raynes or Harland come up behind him. Didn't feel them grabbing at him, trying to console him.

It felt like eternity that he sat there. The battle that he was in the middle of didn't seem to matter any more. His dead comrades all pushed out of his mind. He put his lips to her ear and whispered into it.

"I love you."

"I love you to," a croaky voice said. Manny almost jumped. He stared down at Sarah and saw her eyes open, a painful smile on her face. Relief filled him and he felt sudden elation override his system. If it was possible, he cried even more, but this time in happiness.

"My god I thought you were dead," he lifted her up into a sitting position and knelt beside her. Hutchins appeared at their side, a medic next to him with his kit open the moment he got to them. Sarah stared up at Manny, the look of deep emotion in her eyes. All he could do was stare back.

"Hey, Manny," Raynes said "we are in the middle of a battle here, so if you don't mind..." Manny knew Raynes was only half serious, but he got the idea.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Manny said to the medic, not taking his eyes off of her.

"She's gonna be fine," the medic replied "just some second degree burns, that's all. It looks more like two glancing blows, so she's lucky to say the least. But she won't be able to fight, not just now."

"Hey doc, I am conscious you know." The medic blushed and apologised. Sarah grabbed Manny's hand, squeezing it hard. "Go." She said, her eyes drowsy from the painkillers the medic had given her. "Go be a hero, it's what you're good at," he leaned in and kissed her, then got to his feet.

The others looked at him approvingly, then Raynes stepped forwards and motioned them on. They ran along the length of the trench, putting down any resistance they came across, and helping any friendlies as they went. Whilst Manny had been cradling the love of his life, believing she was dead, Raynes, Harland and Hutchins had been putting down the last of the defence. Manny's plan to take out the tank had not only done that, but taken out all but one of the bunkers, as well as every turret and most of the Covenant that were entrenched here. Raynes congratulated him on his masterful thinking, but also said that someone was bound to come up with it sooner or later.

They made their way to the end of the trench, finding nothing but a handful of dead Grunts. In silence, the marines exited the deeply dug ditch and made their way onto a main road. An electric car lay burned and overturned nearby, its passengers nothing but blackened skeletons. They hunched behind it, searching the area for any sign of life. A mile down the road was nothing. Back the other way led them into the Covenant defensive area, a place they'd rather avoid.

Beyond the other side of the road was the main city, but that was a days walk. In between that was thick woodland, a place that would keep them hidden well, but also put them in a sticky situation if they needed extraction. Lieutenant McCasky came over the frequency, sitting high up in the Pliskin, and told them what was going on. 1st and 3rd Platoons, or what was left of them, were heading towards the enemy defensive zone. 4th platoon was taking up a flanking position to help them out, and Bravo and Echo squads from 2nd Platoon were waiting on the beach for the armoured support.

"We'll scout around and see what we can find, sir." Raynes replied when he had finished giving them the battle analysis. "Raynes, out." He exhaled sharply and turned to his men. "Right, we're gonna take a little scout around here, see what we can find. With first and third on the offensive, we need to be looking for ways to help them. Armoured support is goin' to take a while."

"What do you suggest?" Harland said. He pulled out a cigarette and lit it. Manny and Walker did the same.

"We'll scout out the woods, and get as close to their defence as we can without raising any alarms. I want Fincher on point, Cochran bring up the rear. Keep you spacing tight. Let's go." They came out of their crouches and one by one, made it across the street and into the mouth of the woods. Fincher rushed off ahead, stopping at every third tree. Although they didn't feel tense, the squad knew something was going to happened sooner or later.

Twenty minutes passed, and they had managed to make some distance, but still found nothing. Raynes ordered Fincher to take them more towards the Covenant, and they carried on for a further five minutes before something caught his attention.

Fincher stopped suddenly and held his hand out, signalling them to stop, then motioned for them to get down. He edged forwards slightly, rifle raised. Suddenly without warning the forest erupted in a shower of fire, and the squad were blinded for a split second.

When Manny's vision came back to him, he saw a man in jungle fatigues standing in front of them, leaning against a tree. The pattern on his uniform matched his face paint, and Manny realised that he had been standing in front of them all along. The man grinned and a white crack appeared in his face.

"That was lucky." He said, his voice thick and husky. He turned to where the explosion had come from, walked over to a blackened patch of earth and lifted up the body of a Grunt, missing an arm and half a leg. "If he hadn't set that off, I bet you would have."

"Who are you, soldier?" Raynes said, his voice irritable. And Manny could hardly blame him. This was the second time in his career that he had encountered someone who he had no clue about.

"Corporal Lance Givens, UNSC Rangers, sir." He saluted crisply, but it seemed more like he was taking the piss. Manny looked over at Raynes, his face was a little red, but he had learnt to keep his anger in check since meeting Manny's brother. Harland stood directly behind the Sergeant, a look of bemusement on his face. Rangers had been around for centuries, one of the most elite group of men you'd ever get. Trained to be the best. And for some reason, every one was an arrogant bastard.

"Rangers," Harland muttered, "Figures."

"What you doing here, Corporal?" Raynes snapped. "Your zone is ten klicks that-a-way!" he pointed off to his right. The Corporal just stared back at him, the smile still on his face.

"Just having a little, detour, sir." He replied. The man's cocky attitude seemed to be grating Raynes more and more. At times like this, it was Harland's job to step in and take control, but instead he just stood there, waiting for his superior officer to explode. Maybe he wanted him to.

"Well, don't you think you've come far enough?" Raynes replied sternly.

"Why? You lost or something?" the man smiled even more.

"No, Corporal we're not lo..."

"You are lost, aren't you." The man laughed. "I'm not out of my zone, your out of mine! Ha! Dumb ass marines!" Raynes started towards him but a scream from behind made them turn around. Hutchins was dancing in terror, his body whirling round in a blind panic as if he had been possessed. But he wasn't possessed. Not by a long way.

A blue orb glistened and sparkled on his back, turning everything nearby hazy. There was nothing that could be done; the plasma grenade was stuck on for good, and would be for the rest of Hutchins' life. All the others could do was find cover and kiss the dirt. And although it was the most disgraceful thing they could do, run from a comrade in need, they all knew it was right. Hutchins, too would have no quarrels with it, he would rather die alone than take his friends with him.

The grenade exploded and showered the trees with blood. The moment the ringing stopped in Manny's ears, he got up off the ground and showered the forest with bullets. Fincher and Cochran joined in, hoping to get whatever did this.

Manny's rifle clicked empty and he released the trigger. He stood and went to where Hutchins had been a few moments ago; all that was left was a boot and half an arm. There wasn't even enough left to consider it a proper burial. Harland came up and patted Manny on the shoulder.

"Nobody should deserve a death like that, not even that idiot." Harland flung his head back to where the Ranger had been. They both turned and saw Raynes pinning the Ranger up against the tree. He was yelling at him, screaming into the Corporal's face, telling him that what just happened was all his fault. And it looked as if the Ranger actually seemed stunned by it all, a rare occurrence, since the Ranger's were known to be cocky wise-asses. Harris and Walker were already rushing over to them, trying to pry the two apart.

Manny was just about to go over to them when a hail of green plasma sailed passed his head. He dropped to the floor and yelled to the others. Once again, all hell broke loose. Manny rolled behind a tree, narrowly avoiding another lethal volley of plasma. He poked his head out and gasped at what he saw.

Beyond where Harris and Walker lay with the Sarge, the Ranger was nowhere to be seen, were hundreds and hundreds of Grunt and Jackals. And all of them were heading this way. They seemed to be firing wildly, but Manny knew that the ones that had given him a hair cut were too accurate for wildfire. He scrambled to his feet and yelled into his mic.

"Fall back! Fall back! Let's get the hell outta here!" he found himself running faster than he'd ever ran faster before. He threw whatever he didn't need to the ground, and sprinted. He didn't know if anyone had heard him, or if anyone was following him. He fired randomly behind him, then heard a crackle in his headset,

"Jesus, Manny, stop firing will ya?!" Harland yelled through his ears "We're right behind ya!" he threw his rifle over his shoulder, then glanced behind him. Sure enough, they were all behind him, running at full pelt. The Covenant force was visible behind them, but they seemed to be slowing a little.

After ten minutes they found themselves out on the road. And there was not a soul in sight. They made their way across and onto the beach, only to find more carnage than when they had left. Scorpion tanks sat burnt out and crumpled, overturned Warthogs and ATVs littered the sand, and if it was possible, there were more dead bodies.

"What the hell?" Walker whispered. They stood and stared at the massacre. The armoured support that had come in had been completely obliterated, along with the reinforcements. Dread filled Manny suddenly as he thought of Sarah. He ran as fast as he could to the trench, dived in it and pelted down the narrow passage. He came across dozens and dozens of dead bodies, all wearing marine green, and feared the worst. But as he rounded a familiar corner he found her.

At first he thought she was dead, partially hidden under the body of the medic that had been helping her, but when he saw her chest rise ever so slightly, he knew she was just playing dead. He ran over to her and pulled the body off of her, shouting her name.

"Oh, Jon!" she cried, bursting into tears as he flung his arms round her. "I thought you were dead!"

"C'mon, we have to get you out of here." He shouted. "There's a Covenant force the size of New York heading this way." He slipped his arm around her and lifted her up. "Can you walk?" she nodded, and they made their way over the trench. "Sarge, you there?"

"Yeah, Manors, where the hell are you?"

"Just coming out of the trench now, sir" the two of them came out of the trench and saw Raynes and the others huddled round a burning Warthog not far away.

"We got a Pelican coming in for extraction. So get your butt over here...is that McCain with you or a weird looking Covenant?"

"It's McCain, sir." He said, with a chuckle.

They slowly made it over to the Warthog. Fincher and Cochran had taken up guard positions, Harris and Walker were looking for survivors, but so far there was no sign of the Covenant. Manny lay Sarah against the tire of the jeep and covered her with his jacket, kissing her on the forehead as he did so. He glanced up at Raynes. The elder man was speaking quietly into a SATCOM receiver. After a few seconds, he signalled off, hanging up the receiver. He looked grim. "What happened, sir?"

"They were ambushed. First and Third platoons came up against heavy resistance and were forced back to here. Fourth is still out there, hiding in the forests, their numbers down to half. The armoured support came ashore, but before anyone could do anything, they were overrun by Covenant. A squadron of Banshees took out the tanks, which luckily they weren't manned. The survivors got back into what working boats they could find and made it out to sea, waiting for an extraction."

"What's the body count, sir?" Manny prepared himself.

"Just under half." Raynes cursed. "Half a company wiped out in a few hours." He wiped at the sweat on his forehead, replacing it with grime and blood. They gazed off into the distance, trying to spot any hint of movement, be it human or otherwise.

Nothing. There was nothing.

Walker and Harris appeared at Raynes' side, their faces grey, if that was possible. Walker wordlessly handed something to him then the two of them turned around and took up guard positions. Raynes sighed; a sigh of grief, a sigh of loss, a sigh of defeat. He looked down at Manny and handed him what Walker had given him.

It was a blood-stained dog tag.

He flipped it over in his hand and saw that the name read 'Robson, Tanya. H'. He looked down at Sarah who had either fallen asleep or fallen unconscious. He would tell her later, she didn't need this now.

The Pelican came shortly afterwards, but despite the fact that they were getting off of this god-forsaken place, it did not raise their hopes in any shape or form.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Just Make Sure To Bypass Mars: Chapter 16
Date: 1 December 2003, 6:50 PM

Chapter 16

1600 Hours, August 30th, 2549 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Frigate Horatio, orbiting Corona III

It may have been over three hours since they had been extracted, but the memories of his dead comrades were still etched into Manny's mind. It was all he could really think about at that moment. The way they had been literally cut to pieces by the enemy, not even standing a remote chance of survival. One thing he was thankful for though was that Sarah's injuries weren't too serious. But even that couldn't stop him from thinking about the others.

It was pure luck that they had been picked up or they would have been stranded on Corona for good. Right now he sat in the mess hall of the Horatio, one of the only ships left in system. The hall was a large enough room, with numerous stainless-steel tables littering the ceramic floor. At the far end of the hall was a giant window that looked out into the stars; at the moment all that was visible was the giant sphere of Corona III, a planet Manny hoped he never came back to. The hall was, at this very moment, dead apart from half a dozen marines and a handful of medical staff.

Manny stretched back over his chair and yawned, releasing a deep grunt. He looked to his right; Fincher was playing with his now cold dinner, Walker had laid his head on the table and looked as if he was about to fall asleep. The passed few months had been tough on them, moving from colony to colony, trying to fend off an indestructible enemy. And today's defeat was just one more blow. But this defeat was worse than all the others. They had lost men and women, good men and women. Grace, Tanya, Hutchins, Connor. The handful of men in the mess hall were the only surviving members of Alpha squad, with the exception of Harland and the Sergeant.

"This sucks," Cochran spat in disgust. Manny looked over at the Private. Cochran was tough, but what he witnessed today had gotten to him. Next to him sat Harris, anger clear on his face.

"It's better than getting killed, ain't it?" the bigger man replied. Just as he said that a group of four men walked through the mess hall door. They were laughing and joking, but it was malicious, not friendly. Manny peered closer at them and saw their rank and squad insignias. They were Rangers, and one of them was the same Ranger they had come across down on Corona. The four men came and sat almost right next to Harris, but took no notice of him or the others. Manny caught a bit of their conversation, something about finding a lost group of marines, and then realised he was talking about them.

"And this one guy, Hutchins I think his name was, got pasted by a grunt!" one of them said. "The little bastard stuck a plasma grenade on his back. You should've seen it, seein' this guy running around, screaming his head off!" The other three reared their heads back with laughter. Just the mention of his name sent anger rippling through his body. That these men could mock the dead was intolerable. The memory of Hutchins screaming was still fresh in his mind. All of their minds.

There was nothing Manny or Fincher, or anyone else could do except run. They had all felt guilty, they all held themselves responsible. And now this jerk was making fun of it all. Manny went to stand up but found the table around him move as the other four men he sat with rose as well. Fincher stepped over to them. He tapped the one they met in the forest on the shoulder, who turned round in disgust.

"Do you have no respect, you sons of bitches?" Fincher said, his voice sounded calm, but Manny knew he was far from it. "The man that is the butt of your jokes just so happened to be my best friend."

The four Rangers rose, coming round on Fincher. The one he had spoken to put his face right in front of Fincher's, an evil smile crossed his face.

"Well, well. You're the ones who were lost today, weren't ya?" he sneered, shoving the smaller man back into the Marines behind him. Fincher rebounded off of Harris's chest harmlessly. "Look boys, these are the marines I was telling you about. The ones that were lost! You know you're lucky I didn't kill that Sergeant of yours, he was a real piece of work wasn't he."

Fincher sprang forwards and landed a punch to the other man's chin, emitting a loud crack. The soldier fell backwards into his comrades, clearly shaken by the blow. But before he could respond, his three friends launched themselves into Fincher, knocking him into the ground with punches and kicks. Harris grabbed one of them and threw him over the nearest table, then jumped over himself, landing right on top of the soldier. Cochran and Walker waded in as well. Manny looked over at Harris who was landing blow after blow on the downed Ranger.

Walker had one of the troopers in a headlock and was kneeing him in the chest. Cochran was swapping blows with another, and Fincher lay crumpled on the floor. Manny glanced over at the guy Fincher had hit first. He was rounding on the downed private and looked ready to kill. But before he could, Manny snatched up a chair and smashed it over the Trooper's head, sending him tumbling to the floor. He went down with him and started landing blows into the man's face. It wasn't long before he felt silence around him. The wet thuds of fists hitting flesh had stopped, as had the yelling and screaming and he saw only motionless figures standing round him.

They were all looking passed him, their mouths hanging open. Manny turned his head to see where they were gazing and nearly yelled in surprise.

In the doorway to the mess hall stood three giants, bodies covered from head to toe in gleaming green armour. Golden visors covered their faces, and the very shape of them made them look menacing and evil. If Manny hadn't known they were the UNSC's Elite fighting force, the Spartans, he probably would have run a mile.

One of them, the smallest of the three, walked quickly towards them. If it hadn't been for the fact that the Spartan spoke before had a chance to ask it, Manny wouldn't have been able to tell if it was male or female.

"I thought we were fighting the Covenant, not ourselves," a soft feminine voice said. Nobody answered her. They all just stood and stared. The visored helmet turned towards the giant window. "Covenant ships are here, get to your stations. This could get messy."

Manny turned to the view screen. Sure enough, he could see three large dots glittering in the darkness. As he carried on staring, he noticed them getting larger by the second. He spun back to where the Spartan had been standing but there was nobody there. The two by the door had also vanished.

"Were they just here," Fincher muttered "or did I just completely imagine three Spartans standing by the door?" nobody answered him. Whether it was him being serious, or him being humorous, it got a rise out of no one. There was silence for a few moments, as both the marines and the rangers turned to stare out at the incoming ships. Manny was about to say something when the lights in the room turned a dull red and alarm claxons rang out in his ears.

This was not going to be good.




Raynes woke with a start. His room had turned a dull red, and the unforgettable sound of an alarm rang in his ears. He grabbed his watch and saw that he had only been asleep few hours. The brass had told him to get some rest before his debriefing, and he had gone straight to his room.
Groggy from sleep, he pulled himself out of bed and slung on his combats fatigues and was just about to open the door when he was flung backwards by an explosion. He landed on the floor, smacking his head against the dense duracreet. Ignoring the pain, he clambered to his feet again and made it out the door. People were running in all directions, most of them technicians or crew of the Horatio, but he recognised a few of them.

"Fincher!" he yelled "What the hell is going on?" the man stopped abruptly, only to have his entourage skid into him, sending them all to the floor.

"Covenant ships are attacking us, sir," he yelled. "We're fleeing for our lives!"

"You're on a ship, idiot. Where are you 'fleeing' to?"

"I was hoping you'd see the irony of that, sir." Fincher said as he hauled himself off of the floor. Raynes noticed new cuts and bruises on his face, as well as Cochran's who stood next to him.

"What the hell happened to you two?"

"Fight with the Rangers in the mess hall, sir." Manny piped up, coming out from behind Harris. "We ran into the guy we met down on Corona."

"Hope you kicked his ass." Raynes shouted. Manny nodded, a grin appearing on his face. This was good. Even though they had lost half of their squad today, and they were about to be blown to smithereens by a Covenant ship, they were in good spirits. "Well, just stay out of the way of everyone, and we'll get through this. There's nothing we can do about it."

"Sir, yes sir." Manny replied, as did the others. And then they were off again, heading down the corridor. He turned the other way and jogged towards the lift, diving into it as the doors closed. Another explosion shook the ship, sending the passengers flying into each other. As the doors opened, they practically fell out. Raynes picked himself up off of the floor and started towards the bridge when there was a gut wrenching crash and the wall next to him imploded. A huge bit of metal ripped out and caught a nearby crewmember, taking his head clean off.

Raynes ducked down, trying to avoid anything from hitting him. He waited a few seconds then got to his feet, and then realised what had just happened. It wasn't a Covenant missile or plasma blast, it was a boarding vessel. No sooner had he realised this a dozen small figures in yellow and red armour clambered out of a small hole where the ship had penetrated. Squeaks and barks filled the air, as well as green and blue plasma fire. In answer to them, bullets rained down on them, cutting the raiding team into pieces.

Raynes turned to see a Jackal levelling its weapon at him, but before it could fire, something hit it square in the back. It resembled a foot, but the armour encasing it was like nothing he had seen before. He stared up, and up, until he came face to face with a golden visor, his distorted reflection harking back at him. He felt his breath catch at the awe-inspiring sight that was the Spartan, in his green, iridescent armour. The tall figure looked down on him, as if trying to read is mind.

"Er...thanks." He stammered. The figure nodded at him, then handed an MA5B assault rifle to him.

"You need a weapon." A rough voice said. Raynes accepted the rifle, checked the ammo counter, and locked the pin down. He shakily nodded at the Spartan.

"Where are we going, sir?" Raynes questioned him. The Spartan had already start off down the corridor, stepping over a pile of dead bodies of both human and alien origin.

"There are boarding vessels striking every part of this ship as we speak," he turned his head to look back at the Sergeant. "I'm going to find them and destroy them. You can follow me or find your own way to a secure position, whichever suits you."

Raynes pondered the Spartan's question for a moment, but it was the splashing of green plasma against the wall next to him that made him sprint after the green being. He felt heat on his back as plasma scorched the corridor directly behind him, and he thought that it was all going to end.

He couldn't go on anymore, and found himself stopping suddenly, and turning to face his enemy. He might as well take some of them down if he was going to die anyway. Levelling his rifle, he slowly depressed the trigger, but before he could get a shot off, he was wrenched from where he stood. Disorientated as to what had just happened, he found himself being held a few centimetres off the air by the Spartan. They were standing in one of the service lifts, the doors closing quickly behind them.

The Spartan set Raynes on the floor and hit the button for deck eleven; where it went Raynes had no clue. The lift buffeted as it struggled to rise through the bowels of the ship, and he struggled to keep his balance. The Spartan was loading and checking his shotgun as the lift continued its ascent, not saying a word to the Sergeant.

There was a loud chime, and a muffled voice signalled that they were on the eleventh floor, how courteous of them. The doors opened to an empty corridor. The Spartan stepped out, his shotgun levelled steady at his shoulder. He scanned round quickly, then motioned for Raynes to follow behind him. His movements seemed fluid and robot-like, but Raynes knew that there was a human under all of that.

He followed closely behind, covering the back. The lights in the corridor had stopped flashing red and had switched to emergency lighting. The only difference was that they weren't flashing anymore, and there were less of them on. That meant the main system was offline, as well as the escape pods firing mechanism.

There was no activity on this deck, no bullet casings, no scorch marks, no dead bodies. But the screams and shouts from the lower decks could still be heard.

"Sir, if there are no Covenant on this deck," Raynes said "why are we here?" he stopped in his tracks and turned to him. The Spartan stopped and turned back to him, not taking his weapon down from his firing position.

"Because the main one is this way." He then turned around quickly and carried on down the corridor. Perfect, they were heading into the thick of things! And it wasn't long before they started to hear screams nearby.

An Ensign came running round the corner, his orange uniform tinted black in places, and ripped in others. The Spartan immediately went into a crouching position and made ready to fire at whatever came round the corner. The Ensign flung his arms and legs out as far as he could, screaming as he did so. Raynes took up a firing position standing behind the Spartan, aiming steadily down the corridor.

A Jackal's energy shield suddenly appeared from where the Ensign had sprung from, and the Ensign was halfway between it and them. The Spartan cursed as the Ensign interrupted his line of fire, but for the Jackal there was no obstacle, only a clear shot. The pistol in its hand throbbed green, colouring the walls around it in a lime wash. Then it released the trigger.

The energy bolt exploded from the barrel, and soured down the corridor. It caught the Ensign as he was hovering off of the floor, and sent him flying towards Raynes and the Spartan. The frail human figure seemed to dissipate as it careered down the corridor, painting the floor a thick red as it skidded to a halt at Raynes' feet.

Whilst this was happening, the Spartan had pulled out a grenade and primed it, tossing it down the length of the enclosed space. The Jackal hadn't even realised what had happened until it was too late. The energy shield it carried shattered in a burs of blue energy, and when the smoke cleared, all that was left was a slimy purple stain on the walls.

The sense of victory washed over Raynes, but it was quickly wiped out as several Jackals rounded the corner, chittering and clicking, intent on killing their comrades' murderers. The Spartan in front of him didn't hang around. The moment the grenade had gone off, he was up and off in the other direction. Raynes had been standing watching and only realised the Spartan was gone when he heard him shout out to him.

Raynes turned to see the Spartan waving manically at him twenty metres away. So he obliged. Gladly. He sprinted after him, narrowly dodging incoming enemy fire, and nearly tripping over at one point. When he finally caught up to the Spartan he suddenly realised where they were. The green figure stood with his back to a windowed door, staring back down the long corridor, watching the oncoming horde of Covenant. Raynes felt dread fill him, as he realised that beyond that door was an airlock. And back the other way dozens, possibly hundreds of Covenant troopers.

They were at a dead end.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Just Make Sure To Bypass Mars: Chapter 17
Date: 1 December 2003, 11:56 PM

Chapter 17

1727 Hours, August 30th, 2550 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Frigate Horatio, orbiting Corona

"Fincher, where the hell are you taking us?" Manny screamed, trying to figure out his friend's logic. They had passed Raynes a few minutes ago and were wondering where he had gone. Crewmen ran everywhere, and whenever one of the marines tried to ask where the hell they were, or where the hell they were supposed to go, nobody stopped to give them an answer. And if one of them did, they kept running as they shouted back at them, meaning that the soldiers never got the end of what they said.

"I don't know!" Fincher yelled back, a look of confusion on his face. "I've never been on this ship before!"

"Then will you stop saying," Harris interrupted "'I think it's this way!' because you obviously aren't thinking!" Fincher shot him an angry look. They stopped at a crossroads, with people flowing in all four directions.

"Who are all these people, and why are they everywhere we go?" Walker shouted above the claxons and the loud din of people panicking.

"This is a frigate," Manny replied "not a carrier. It may be a smaller ship, but there are twice as many crewmen. If we were back on the Pliskin we'd have marines running everywhere."

"I doubt that," Fincher mocked him "do you not remember the body count?" a pang of regret and sorrow ran through them all. Walker and Cochran tried asking some technicians whizzing passed them, but only ended up yelling abuse at them as they completely ignored them.

"I've had enough of this." Harris proclaimed. He reach out and grabbed a man in a blue jump suit by his collar and yanked him over to where they stood. He pinned the small man up against the wall, using his huge frame as an imposing figure. "UNSC Marines, where are they supposed to go?"

The small man stammered, a look of fear in his eyes; he didn't know what to say.

"This is an emergency, is it not?" the tech nodded, "Right, then where to we go?" the tech pointed down to where they had come from and uttered something. "I can't hear you!" Harris boomed.

"Ser...service corridor 2...to the..to the main hangar...it's signposted all the way." Harris settled the man back on the ground, gave him a pat on the shoulder.

"You can go now!" he grinned. The tech had turned a deathly pale, and Manny could have sworn the guy had wet himself. He just turned and ran as fast as he could in the opposite direction, not looking back. Manny gave a chuckle then turned to Fincher.

"Down this way, eh?" he slapped him lightly round the face. "C'mon you pansies, lets double-time it." Fincher rubbed his jaw and put on a scornful look, but it didn't stay there long as Harris grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and dragged him back down the corridor.

The marines quickly found a sign saying "Hangars A-F". Fincher piped up about what hangar it could be, but they all ignored him.

"We're going to check all of them, thanks Finchy boy!" Cochran said, producing a chuckle from Walker who ran next to him. The amount of techs and crewmen began to thin out, until there were none in sight at all.

"You sure we've come the right way?" Fincher said, the slight hint of a grin entering his features. They all looked at him, and he prepared himself for another verbal or physical attack. "Just asking, guys."

Manny looked around but there was still nobody to be seen. "We must have come to the right place, look the sign says "hangars" this way. Don't you people remember coming off of the Pelican and where we went after that?"

"Yeah," Cochran said bitterly, aiming it at nobody in particular "but I was a bit war weary to remember,"
Harris ran off down the other end of the corridor, disappearing round a corner. They all stared after him, hoping he would come back with good news. Instead he came back with bad news and a scorched backside.

There was a loud screech, a fizzle of electricity and a shout of pain. Then the huge frame of Harris came flying round the corner, holding his rump. Had it not been such a dangerous situation, Manny would have burst into laughter. The image of Harris running full pelt like a soldier on parade in fast forward, smoke coming off of his burning trousers.

"Run, you fools! Run!" he shouted, cursing as he did. At first the others couldn't figure out what was going on, but then the unmistakeable sound of a Jackal's bird like cackle made them turn tail and run. A long stream of obscenities uttered from the trooper's mouths as they ran, chaos raining behind them in the form of plasma bolts and needle shards. If anyone had seen them, they probably would have laughed their heads off' six hard-as-nails marines legging it from a group of creatures half their size, with one of them grabbing his ass.

It was only when they all stopped screaming that they realised they had turned full circle and ended up right where they had started, only this time they were being chased.

"We need to find weapons, and quick!" Fincher yelled, grabbing his chest and trying to force air into his lungs. The others grunted in approval. They came to a t junction.

"Left or right, guys?" Manny piped up.

"It doesn't matter which way, so long as we..." Fincher started, but was rudely interrupted by a series of plasma bolts that scorched the deck next to his feet. He leapt a metre off of the floor and then sprinted down the right hand corridor. He noticed a sign saying "Armoury" and arrow pointing in the opposite direction. He skidded to a halt and noticed that the only other person near him was Harris. The others were all running the other way, and as the two men turned back after them a group of angry looking Grunts appeared from where Fincher had nearly been shot. They let off a lethal volley, but missed both men by a good metre or so.

"Come on," Harris said, pushing Fincher back. "We gotta keep going, we'll meet up with the others later."




"We need to get out of here now, sir!" Raynes yelled at the cyborg. "There's too many of them!" He aimed his rifle down the long corridor and fired off a deadly hail of bullets, catching three grunts off guard. He ducked back as a volley of lethal green and blue energy bolts flew passed him, splashing over the nearby wall. They turned electric blue for a split second before sizzling a black hole into the dense material. "Sir?!"

"Give me two minutes." The rough voice said. Raynes felt like running away from the onslaught, but the only place left to run was the airlock behind them. This was nuts! He swung his rifle round the pillar he hid behind, firing off a few rounds to catch out any unsuspecting advances.

"Nice shooting," the green commando said. The Sergeant peered round and saw a dead Jackal lying face down, purple blood spilling out of numerous wounds. Wow, he did that? The heat of an incoming energy bolt made Raynes duck back once again as fiery energy smashed through a wall. Those plasma canons were getting closer and more accurate.

"This is insane." he muttered under his breath.

"If it were insane we'd be dead by now," the Spartan said, his voice clear over the exchange of weapon fire. How had heard that? Raynes barely heard himself say it. The gold visor turned to him and although all he saw was his own reflection somehow he knew that the expression on his face meant the Spartan knew exactly what he was thinking. This was too freaky.

"Are two minutes up yet?" he yelled back. As he did so a huge roar erupted from down the corridor followed by an explosion. Raynes thought better of poking his head round but was surprised to see bits of grunt and jackal fly passed him, landing in crumpled heaps on the floor. Another explosion made him crouch down, the noise becoming a deafening roar. His chest armour dug into his belly and his boots wouldn't allow his legs to bend properly and so he found himself half crouching, half sitting. He closed his eyes and hoped for the best.

Then all was silent, except for the loud ringing in his ears. He opened his eyes and saw the Spartan looking down at him. He extended a green hand to the Sergeant, who gladly took it and allowed himself to be hauled up. He turned and looked down the corridor. A huge crater lined each wall where the aliens had been. Pieces of dead bodies littered the floor, purple and bright blue blood soaked the walls, and black score marks painted every surface.

"You were lucky." The Spartan said. He pointed to just above where Raynes had crouched down. A huge metal sheet that looked like hull plating was embedded in the wall, sharp edges cutting through the surface. More to Raynes' surprise was the fact that his helmet was pierced on the end of it. He felt his head, realising for the first time that when he ducked he narrowly avoided death from decapitation. There was a small cut on his neck, but apart from that he was fine.

"What the hell happened?" he managed to sputter out. The Spartan pointed down the corridor and Raynes saw two more green giants appear from one of the craters. They carried Jackhammer launchers, with shotguns slung over their shoulders. The barrels of the launchers smoked as the two Spartans walked up to where Raynes was quivering. As they neared him he noticed one was smaller than the other, and had more of a female shape to it than the other. And when it spoke he realised that it was, in fact a woman.

"Got everything?" she said, her voice was quiet yet immediately audible. She cocked her head at him and appeared to look him up and down. The Sergeant heard a chuckle come from behind him.

"Er...yeah...I guess...so." He looked away from her and bent down to pick up his assault rifle. When he came back up the three Spartans stood huddled together. The male Spartans, he presume the other one was male, were now indistinguishable and Harland couldn't remember for the life of him which one had saved his life only minutes ago.

"What's our sit-rep?" one of them said.

"We got triple the amount that was here coming down to check us out." The female said. "I'd say two platoons of Grunts and maybe two-dozen Jackals." She looked over her shoulder at the door behind them. She looked back at the other two and they seemed to nod. In unison they walked over to Raynes, grabbed him and marched through the airlock doors. As they closed behind them a large dent appeared in it. Raynes looked back through the window and saw numerous Elite Grunts charging up their plasma guns. They were on them already, and they had nowhere to go. He felt something hard hit his back. Turning back round he saw one of the Spartans holding an EV suit.

"You gotta be shitting me!" he took a step back from them. This was crazy, where were they going to go? A loud thump made him jump back towards the Spartans.

"Hurry, they'll get through that in no time." One of them said. He quickly donned the suit, pulling the safety helmet over his head and pressurising it, then felt three pairs of hands checking his seals, but his vision was obscured by the helmet's chin-piece. He heard another thump through the helmet's speakers. This was insane. He looked out the main airlock window and saw a Covenant destroyer coming closer, feeling his heart skip not one, but two beats. This just got better and better.

"Have you guys seen that?" he pointed out to the incoming ship.

"Yes," three voices said. They stood and walked over to the airlock switch.

"Hurry." One of them shouted. He stood between the two male Spartans and felt them clasp his arms. God they were strong; the vice like grip with which they held him nearly stopped the blood supply to his fingers and they began to tingle. He was just about to protest but a loud whooshing sound deafened him. He looked out in front and saw the airlock doors sliding open.

"This is crazy!" he yelled at the top of his voice, and he found himself paralysed by fear.

"Don't worry," he heard one of the men say. "We've done this before." He glanced at the other two Spartans. The female shook her head, the other just turned back to the door. Harland felt the pressure around his body increase as the airlock doors cycled open more.

"Well I haven't!" as he said that his arms were tugged forwards and he found himself flying out into the black expanse before him.

That and the ever enlarging Covenant Destroyer.




When Manny saw a big red sign that read "Armoury" on the ground in front of him, pointing towards a big metallic door, he nearly cried with joy. He punched the switch and the doors hissed open. He ran straight over to where the shotguns were cased up. Kicking open the cabinet, he pulled out a metallic, short-barrelled twelve boor, flicked it open, and placed two cartridges in the chambers. He snapped it back up and grabbed two ammo belts, the loopholes filled with shells, slinging them over each shoulder.

He then turned to the left side of the room and grabbed a pistol belt, strapping it round his waist. He pulled the tough and reliable M5 from its holster, snapped a clip home, cocked it and placed it back in the holster. It could be fitted with a scope, but Manny really didn't have the time. And it probably wouldn't come in handy either.

He turned back to the others. Walker stood with an MA5B cradled in his arms and a loaded Jackhammer launcher on his back. He had also clipped four frag grenades to his combat belt. Cochran held a sub machine gun in each hand, and an M6-D pistol tucked into his trousers. He had a bag, presumably filled with extra ammunition, slung across his body.

"You two look like you should be in a movie." Manny scoffed. They gave him unapproving glances. He looked to his left, then to his right. Then he glanced over his shoulder, and then turned around to look behind him.

"Where the hell are Finch and Harris?!" he exclaimed. The other two glanced around and shrugged.

"I thought they were right behind us, " Walker replied, a bemused look on his face. "Maybe they got lost." He smirked at that, but realised this was serious and stopped as quick as he started.

"Dammit! Looks like we're gonna have to go find them." Manny started towards the door. "Keep your eyes open, call if you need help, and for god's sake, don't get lost!" Walker and Cochran smiled at him, then followed in closely behind him as they left the armoury.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Just Make Sure To Bypass Mars: Chapter 18
Date: 2 January 2004, 2:52 AM

Chapter 18

1750 Hours, August 30th, 2550 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Frigate Horatio, orbiting Corona

"Just keep running!" Fincher yelled to his muscular counterpart as they tried to get away from the Covenant onslaught that was chasing them. "Run!"
Things had gone from bad to worse, to terrible in a matter of minutes. Not only had they gotten lost, they were being chased by what seemed like hundreds of Covenant soldiers, and worst of all, they were unarmed.

"I heard you the first time!" Harris bellowed back at him. "Now shut up and save your breath for dying!" Harris' comment made Fincher think for a moment. Was he going to die? Here? Now? His time wasn't up yet. Or was it? He'd faced death too many times, like all Marines. Was it time for him to part this world?

He was torn back to reality by a hard slap to the face from Harris. The large man loomed over him, a stern finger pointed at Fincher. "You'd best not start getting all melodramatic on me!" his face was red with anger. Or was it just exhaustion? "I know you!"

The two locked eyes for a minute, them smiled. "C'mon ya big oaf, we gotta find the others!" Fincher yelled and grabbed at Harris' uniform, dragging him off in yet another direction. It hadn't occurred to them that for the brief period they were standing still there were no Covenant firing at them. Fincher stopped slowly, then glanced over his shoulder, Harris coming up beside him.

"Hey, I think we lost them!" Fincher said, a smile blossoming on his face. It quickly disappeared as green light filled the corridor, energy burning the plasteel walls near his head.

"You had to open yo..." Harris' retort was lost in an explosion that shook through the ship, almost taking the privates off of their feet. They looked at each other in bewilderment, then realised that the ships they had seen in the mess hall were attacking. And the Covenant soldiers had caught up to them. They watched as over a dozen Jackals and two-dozen Grunts piled into the tight corridor behind them. It didn't take much to get Harris and Fincher moving again, as they once again tried to evade what seemed like an ever-present enemy.

"I can't do this any more!" Harris yelled, a pained expression on his face. They rounded a corner, not looking where it led to and ran full pelt into Harland and Sarah. Harris slammed into the Corporal, taking him off of his feet. Sarah wasn't better off as Fincher nearly head-butted her. Before any of them could ask any questions, a Jackal's shield emerged from behind them and Harland realised why he had been knocked to the ground. Harris took one look at the newcomers, waved for them to follow and then took off in the direction they had been going.

It seemed like they had been running for hours, their legs burning and sweat covering their clothes. Harris had turned a bright red, and Fincher's breathing had become wheezy and thick. Sarah, though looked a deathly pale, and was also lagging too far behind for Harris' liking. He came to a stop at a junction and waited for them all to stop, then moved to Sarah.

"Are you alright? You don't look so good." She looked as if she was about to say something but her eyes rolled back into her head and she fell limply to the floor. The others were round her in a flash, shouting her name, touching sensitive points on her to try and wake her up.

"What happened?" Harland yelled. He was in the process of pulling off one of her boots.

"She just collapsed, "Fincher replied, holding her shoulders and head up off of the floor. "Where did you find her?" Harland looked at the NCO.

"When the attack happened I was in med lab, getting a piece of shrapnel removed from my thigh. Sarah was on the bed opposite, she'd undergone intense therapy and wasn't supposed to get out of bed for at least another twelve hours. I had to bring her along with me, the med lab got almost completely decimated."

The sound of a hundred feet echoed around them, and Harris found it hard to try and discern where it originated. When Sarah had fainted, he had lost his bearings and couldn't remember which direction they had come from.




A strange calm washed over Raynes, he felt light as a feather and there was not an ounce of fear or anger in him.
It was a feeling that he thought strange considering the fact that he was hurtling towards a Covenant Destroyer a thousand times his size. On either side of him the Spartans gripped his arms. It was unnerving to say the least, and to think that these three Spartans had probably killed more Covenant soldiers than he'd see in his lifetime. The black expanse of space seemed to shrink around him as the large Covenant ship engulfed him, ready to swallow him up at any moment.

Purple plasma fire littered the air around him, and he could have sworn that one of the energy beams passed within an inch of his face. The nose of the ship dived away from them as they shot over its bow, passing only a hundred metres from its surface. Raynes felt his pulse spike at the marvel below him. Despite the Covenant being the possible eradicator of human kind, what he was seeing now was breath taking. When he had first seen a UNSC Cruiser, he had thought he'd never see anything more magnificent. And here he was clearly being proven wrong. The way the light rebounded off of the purple hull, sloping down out of view. The sparkle it held was nothing less than breathtaking.

He felt the grip on his arms loosen and turned to look to his left. The Spartan stared straight ahead; or at least that's where Raynes thought he was looking. The golden visor hid all facial expressions, which was both a help and a hindrance.

"What are we doing?!" Raynes yelled into his mic. "We're passing over a very dangerous Covenant vessel!"

The Spartan's helmet swivelled to face him, and Raynes could have sworn he saw a smile beneath the shiny reflection. "You'll see." A steely voice said in his ear. He didn't like the sound of that. He looked back down again and was surprised to see that the Covenant ship was gone beneath him. He tried to force his head down to get a glimpse of it, but the pressure suit wouldn't allow it. He thought of his men on the Horatio, what will come of them if that destroyer opens fire on them.

"We've missed the ship!" he cried into his radio. "Now where the hell are we going to go?!"

"We are getting on that ship." The female said, her free hand pointing at another Covenant ship that was quickly taking up Raynes vision on his right. "You." She continued "are getting on that ship!" he looked to where her arm was pointing and saw a UNSC Frigate closing in from the opposite direction. It wasn't the Horatio, that was a few thousand kilometres behind him, but it had a distinct resemblance to it.

"And how am I going to get over there?!" the Sergeant screamed. The female Spartan started waving her arm in a circular motion, bringing herself around and underneath him. The Spartan to his left did the same, coming round next to her. They linked arms, pulled their legs in, the kicked out, catching Raynes in the chest. The impact wasn't hard, but it was enough to knock the wind out of him. The kick sent him spiralling in the direction of the Frigate, and he found it hard to focus on the objects around him. After a few seconds he finally got his bearings and saw that the Spartans had disappeared from sight. They had shrunk into the distance, merging with the Covenant ship beyond.




"They have to be around here somewhere." Walker yelled ahead "With Fincher leading the way, it shouldn't take that long to find him!" Manny ignored the comment and sped his pace up a little. They had spent the last five minutes wandering the corridors aimlessly, like ghosts trying to find their lost comrades. It wasn't until they ran into a pack of Jackals that it became a retreat. They had thrown a couple of grenades, turned tail and ran. And now they were lost.

"Just keep running, marine!" Cochran yelled back at him. The trio rounded a corner and saw a group of soldiers huddled around each other. Manny recognised them as Harland, Fincher and Harris. The bigger man was cradling someone, and Fincher and Harland stood looking gaunt. To his dismay, as Manny neared them he realised the person on the floor was Sarah. He almost dived onto her, grabbing at her body, prying her from Harris' grip.

"What happened?!" he screamed. "What happened? Has she been hit?" he checked her pulse. She looked pale and her lips were tinged with blue. Her eyes fluttered open and locked onto him. She gave a weak smile and tried to speak.

"Am...am I dead yet?" her voice was quiet. Manny gave her a wry look. "What happened?"

"You fainted." Harland replied. He stood with his rifle pointed down one of the corridors. "But I suggest we get moving, those Covenant bastards can't be too far behind!" As the last word uttered out of his mouth, a plasma pistol appeared up ahead. It was followed by a handful of Grunts, each one overcharging their small energy weapons.

"Move!" Harris yelled. He scooped up Sarah and flung her over his shoulder. Manny and Cochran primed grenades and threw them down the length of the corridor, turned and ran, closely followed by the others.

"We need to get to the escape pods!" Fincher cried out. "The ship must be over run!" Harland upped his pace and got ahead of them.

"I know where to go," he shouted over his shoulder. "Just follow me!"

"Where have I heard that before?" Walker managed to sputter, firing a burst over his shoulder. Manny suppressed a smile as Fincher shouted something obscene in the other man's direction. Walker just smiled and carried on running.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Just Make Sure To Bypass Mars: Chapter 19
Date: 9 January 2004, 2:35 AM

Chapter 19

1820 Hours, August 30th, 2550 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Frigate Horatio, orbiting Corona

Another explosion rippled down the ship, nearly sending Manny to his knees. The group rounded the corner to the escape pod bay, narrowly missing a hail of enemy fire. Harland leapt into the nearest pod, closely followed by Harris carrying Sarah, Fincher, Walker and Cochran. Manny took one last look around, then dove in and sealed the hatch.

He glanced up the front of the boat and saw Harland clambering into the pilot's couch, attaching a headset round his helmet.

"You know how to fly this thing?" Manny called up to him. The Corporal turned and winked at him, then buckled the safety belt around his waist. Manny fell into the front stall, fastening the restraints around his chest and stomach. Opposite him sat a pale Sarah. She looked over to him, and gave a weak smile, then her eyes fluttered shut and her head lulled forwards.

Horror rushed through Manny as he tried to undo his harness, but he found a firm hand shoving him back into his seat.

"She's fine, Manny." He turned to Harris who sat next to him. "I gave a dose of morphine, she'll be out for an hour or so." Manny breathed out slowly, relieved at what his comrade was telling him.

"What's wrong with her?" Manny asked. He looked back over at her.

"She's just exhausted from the therapy she has endured, as well as our run through the ship. I'm sure that didn't help either." He gave he smaller mans shoulder a squeeze. "She's going to be fine."

Manny turned and smiled at the marine, then let his eyes drift out the rear view port. The Horatio was slowly getting smaller; its hull badly charred and burned. The ship seemed to light up the sky as it started listing to Port. The ship seemed to open up at the front, the top half coming away from the bottom half. Fire engulfed its read, and small explosions could be seen all over the ship. A red line appeared along its bow, cutting deep into the ship and it wasn't until it had burred completely in two that Manny realised the destruction was caused by Covenant plasma.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, lifting his hand in a salute to those unlucky enough to be still aboard.



The Pelican decelerated as it entered the Defiant's docking bay, coming to a sudden halt as it touched down on the steel deck. Raynes got up from where he was sitting and marched out of the small craft. As he landed on the floor he felt good to finally have his feet on solid ground.

He had spent twenty minutes in EV, watching as three Covenant destroyers took apart the Horatio. Luckily, the Covenant ships hadn't turned their attention on the Defiant, and Raynes' pulse stayed steady throughout the engagement. It was a quick fight, with both sides taking heavy casualties. The Horatio had been completely obliterated in the firefight, and one of the other UNSC ships looked as if it had been badly damaged. Thankfully all three Covenant ships had been destroyed; whether the Spartans were on one of them he wasn't sure. He had only briefly wondered what had happened to the cybernetic soldiers that had nearly led him to his death, but the appearance of several UNSC warships made him forget all that and all he could do was sit and watch the fireworks. Raynes' FOF transponder had obviously pinged the ship he was on a collision course for, and he got word on the radio that a Pelican dropship had been dispatched to collect him, along with a number of other crewmen and marines that had also gone EV.

He took in a long breath of air, holding it for a few moments, then releasing it. He handed the EV suit he had been wearing to a tech nearby along with his rifle, then made his way out of the bay towards the soldier's mess. The Sergeant felt wobbly on his feet still, despite spending the last half hour in the dropship. He'd had to keep his suit on to help drag in the other EVs, and when they were all in it had been so tightly cramped that he had barely managed to get out of it.

Strolling down the brightly lit corridor, passing a few techs as he did it suddenly struck him how weary the day had been. He was looking forward to lying down in a nice cosy bed. He felt the ship accelerate to Port, then settle straight ahead; it was nice to be on a ship not swarming with Covenant. Which brought him back to the dilemma with his team. Were they still alive, and if so where? The last time he had seen them, they were running the other way from him.

Raynes hoped deep down they were okay, but he had a strange feeling that they weren't. Raynes pushed the thought aside, he shouldn't think like that.

He hadn't gotten far down the metallic corridor when a voice called from behind him. He turned against the oncoming flow of people to see a man, an officer in a black uniform marching towards him. The man was youngish looking, with closely cropped black hair, and dark skin to match. His white eyes pierced the Sergeant with an icy glare, making him uneasy at meeting this man.

The officer came to a stop a metre away from the marine, then saluted sharply to the man, a gesture that took Raynes by surprise. He noticed a badge on his shoulder - black and silver eagle wings over a trio of stars, with the words SEMPER VIGILANS above the embroidery. The man was Naval Intelligence. This should be fun, Raynes thought to himself.

The Sergeant returned the salute, then folded his arms across his chest.

"You are Sergeant Raynes," the man said, his voice tinted with a Portuguese accent. "Am I not mistaken?"
Raynes nodded. "Yeah, that's me. What can I do for you?"

"Greetings, I am Lieutenant Hakir." the man continued, his voice humorous, yet eerily probing "As you fully know we have just destroyed three Covenant ships, a victory that shall be cherished among other things. But it came to my attention that you were in contact with three Spartans." He coughed into a closed hand. "Being Section Three, it is my duty to debrief you and find out if you have obtained any sensitive information from them that could be seen as classified information."

"Like what?" Raynes replied sharply. He had no time for these mind games; he just wanted to get to sleep.

"Why they were on the Horatio, why they went EV to infiltrate a Covenant ship, and why they took you with them." The ONI Spook looked Raynes up and down before he gave him a curt nod and a smile. He then gestured to a door across the hall. "Please, this will only take a moment."

Raynes obliged and pushed passed the bustling techs and crewmen into the small room. He checked to see that it hadn't been set up for this meeting and was pleased to be proven wrong. The room was small by comparison, more like an interrogation room. It had a table with chairs either side of it, and a few decorations around the wall, but apart from that it was practically empty. A blue light pulsed in the corner, illuminating the room in a faint haze. A room like this didn't normally exist next to the docking bay, so the spook must have set this thing up, knowing Raynes was going to be here. This was freaky.

"Please, take a seat." The officer said to him, pointing to a chair as he did. Raynes pulled the metal seat out from under the table and sat down, leaning his elbows on the table. Hakir sat across from him, but Raynes noticed that the kind persona he had shown the Sergeant in the corridor had dropped, and now he under the icy gaze again. Raynes hadn't expected anything else. The spook flipped out a small device and placed it on the table in front of them. It looked like a recorder, but Raynes wasn't too sure; until the Lieutenant flipped a switch and started his proceedings.

"For the record, you are Sergeant Usaf Raynes, 2nd Platoon of the 81st Marine Corps, are you not?"

"That is correct," Raynes said, straining his voice to be as interested as possible.

"Please relay back to me what happened from when you boarded the UNSC Frigate Horatio, to when you were brought aboard the UNSC Carrier Defiant."

So he did. Raynes told him about meeting up with his squad, telling them to get off the ship, then being rescued by the Spartan, and consequently going on to being thrown out of an airlock. The Lieutenant sat and listened intently, his eyes locked on Raynes.

"At any point during contact with the Spartans, did they reveal anything that your though sensitive material or classified information?" Raynes sat back in his chair and gave out a sight.

"How would I know if it was classified or sensitive?" he put his hands behind his head. "All I can remember them saying was 'hang on' and 'stay with us'. We didn't exactly have time for small talk."

The agent's eyes thinned, and his lips tightened - Raynes seemed to have hit on a nerve. They sat staring at each other, seeing which one would break first. Ever since Raynes had joined the UNSC he had always found himself in debriefings with Naval Intelligence, which Raynes took to be as unlucky more than anything else. And the more he frequented them, the more he toyed with them, wound them up until they flipped out. Unfortunately it hadn't happened yet, but Raynes was always hoping.

"Sergeant Raynes, may I remind you that if you are in anyway lying to us, or I believe that you are in any way lying or keeping something from us, you could be brought up on charges of treason, which as you are fully aware, is punishable by death?"

Raynes smirked at the man opposite him. "Does this mean I can go now?" before Hakir could answer that Raynes was on his feet, pulling the out from underneath him.

"We may need to recall you to finalise a few details in a formal hearing," Hakir replied, then he nodded at him and give him what Raynes could only perceive as a genuine smile. "Glad you are alive, Sergeant. We need every man we can get."



1400 Hours, August 31st, 2550 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Carrier Defiant
Slipspace vector, Reach

Manny sat with his back to the wall, looking on at the people sitting round him. The mess hall didn't offer a variety of drinks, but the ones they did have went down well. Manny and his friends had been in the mess hall for an hour now, finishing off two or three bottles each. They had been allowed to stay awake for the duration of the journey home, as the last mission had been particularly harrowing, and nightmares in Cryosleep weren't the nicest ones to have.

They toasted to being alive, as well as toasting the dead, of which there were many. Bitterness had come the moment they were rescued by the Defiant, but it quickly faded when they learnt that the Covenant had been beaten, for now. No doubt they would return in greater numbers and Corona would fall under their plasma canons.

"Anyone hear from the sarge?" Fincher piped up among the chatter. He sat to Manny's left, his feet up on the table, chair leaned back into the wall behind them. "He's been in his room an awful long time."

"Maybe he found a pretty nurse," the man opposite him replied. Walker guffawed at his own joke, but no one else saw the funny side. Harris who was situated next to him clouted hit round the head, leaving the Private keening in pain and rubbing his head. That made the others laugh.

When Manny had heard about Raynes' trek through the Horatio with three Spartans he had felt a pang of jealousy. It was every marines dream to see a Spartan, but Raynes said he was more scared to see them than he was happy. They had all laughed and joked with him when they came aboard, but then he had insisted on getting some sleep. Harland put it down to the fact that he was a grumpy old man. And in a sense it was true; Raynes was in his forties, he'd been serving for over twenty years and was the most loyal soldier Manny had ever met.

The Sergeant had seen a lot in his life time, and Manny was surprised Raynes was still just a Sergeant. Maybe he didn't want the responsibility that came with commanding a platoon, or a battalion for that matter. Maybe he liked the closeness of an eleven-man squad, knowing each member personally and knowing exactly what made them tick.

And in a sense, Manny completely understood why. The more they fought together, the closer they became, the more they bonded and the better they worked as a team. He looked around at his fellow marines. Fincher, Walker, Cochran, Harris and Sarah. They were all that was left of what came out of boot camp three years ago. And he vowed from that point on that he would make sure none of them came to any harm, even if it meant putting his own life at risk.

He loved them like his own family.

All Roads Lead To Sol...But Unfortunately Not Away: Chapter
Date: 21 March 2004, 10:51 PM

Section 4: But Unfortunately Not Away
Chapter 20

0030 Hours, July 18 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Carrier Fair Weather, military area in orbit around
Sigma Octanus IV

Although it was technically midnight where the Fair Weather was situated, the sun could still be seen from the Port side. The ship hung in orbit around Sigma Octanus, making ready for the battle that was to commence. Throughout the vessel, soldiers were readying their gear, technicians were making sure the ship was running at maximum capacity, and the bridge crew were searching for any sign of life other than the few dozen UNSC ships surrounding them. They were also abuzz with the news that Commander Keyes had fought against four Covenant ships and won. A win like this had them all in high spirits, a feeling that many of them hadn't felt in a long time.

In docking bay one, Lieutenant McCasky made ready to descend on the planet, where he would meet up with his platoon at Firebase Bravo. The marines had been on the planet for a little over one hour, setting up camp and surveying the area. When the Fair Weather had jumped in system, he had received a transmission from FleetCom telling him to double-time it down to the planet. Operations wouldn't begin for another four hours, but the Admiralty obviously wanted them ready for anything; the Covenant had never done anything like this.

"Are the 'hogs all prepped and ready?" he turned to Rogers. The grim-faced Staff Sergeant nodded at him, then turned his attention back to his data-pad. "Good." McCasky muttered to himself. He turned to survey the Pelicans lined up in front of him. The five dropships would be taking the last of the equipment down to Sigma Octanus, where it would be needed at the camp, and although none of the craft carried marines, they were full of spare ammunition, GPS systems, navigational equipment and plenty of supplies that would allow his platoon to last a full three weeks on the planet should they be stranded on it. And tucked away at the back on each Pelican was a Warthog. The vast majority of the LRVs were already down at Firebase Bravo, and these last five would make up the numbers so every member of his platoon would be in one if they needed to be.

He nodded to himself, satisfied that everything was in order. Adjusting his flat cap, he made his way to the back of one of the Pelicans and pulled himself aboard, followed by Rogers and the handful of marines that had stayed behind to get the last of the equipment on board. He strode to the front of the Pelican and tapped Flight Lieutenant Illman on the shoulder.

"Ready when you are, son." He said

"Roger that, sir." The pilot replied and radioed in for clearance to leave the frigate. McCasky wondered back through the hatch and took a seat next to one of the marines. The private stared straight ahead, at the other side of the dropship, his face expressionless.

"You nervous son?" he buckled in and turned his head to look at him.

"Always, sir." The marine replied, his voice betraying any signs of fear he might have felt. His sandy hair was flattened to his head from wearing his helmet, which now sat in his lap.

"Me too, son, me too." The private gave him a surprised look, making McCasky smile. "What's you name private?"

"Manors, sir. John Manors, Private First Class." The name rang a bell.

"Manors, eh? You're one of Raynes' lads aren't you? I've heard a lot of good things about you."

"Thank you sir." He replied with a hint of pride in his voice. "I do my best sir." They locked eyes for a moment before turning to away. Without knowing it, Manors had gained McCasky's respect and trust in that split second. This man would be a valuable soldier, and would go on to do great things. That was if they survived this op.

The Pelican lurched forwards, and the Lieutenant felt his stomach drop, then settle as the ship left the Fair Weather, descending on Sigma Octanus. The flight down was a bumpy one, but other than that, it went off without a hitch. As the ship lurched into the atmosphere, .

"Rogers," McCasky shouted, the Sergeant turning at his masters call. "I want my squad leaders to meet with me in five minutes in the command tent. That's where I'll be until then if you need me." He turned sharply and walked over the thick grass of the hillside towards the large tent situated in the middle of the camp. Two marines stood guard there, leaning against the wall, the rifles slung down by their waists. One had a cigarette in his hand and blew smoke rings into the night air. On seeing their commanding officer walk towards them, they both snapped to, bringing their weapons up to ready positions.

As McCasky came within a few feet of them, they snapped sharp and crisp salutes, which were returned by the Lieutenant as he walked through into the dark room. Computers were set up around the room, with three large tables spaced throughout the room. Technicians ran diagnostic checks, RADAR scans and anything else that would determine where the Covenant may be. He walked over to on of them and asked what he was doing.

"Well, sir, I'm running a programme to get the feedback from our satellites above the planet." He turned back to the screen and tapped in a few commands, bringing up what looked like an overhead map of the area in which they currently resided. A few dozen tents, as well as the fleet of Warthogs they had filled up the screen. "Hopefully we can home in on where those Covie bastards are and get the jump on them."

McCasky nodded his approval. "As you were Sergeant," he said, moving over to the middle table. Set up on the metallic surface were data arrays and maps of the planet and its various places. The Covenant had taken over C'te d' Azur, leaving many dead, but FleetCom hadn't ordered anyone into the area yet. He wondered what they were waiting for, and thought about asking his superiors, but realised he wouldn't have gotten a straight answer from any of them.

"Lieutenant." One of the techs called to him. He turned to where the communications desk had been set up and saw a techie with ear-phones on, waving a communicator at him. "FleetCom is on the horn sir, they wish to speak with you."

McCasky quickly walked over to the panel and grabbed the black microphone and thumbed the activator.

"McCasky here."

"Are, Lieutenant, this is Commander Willis. We have a mission for you and your men."

"Yes sir, what can I do for you?" he had met Willis numerous times, and didn't like him one bit. The man used his rank to get what he wanted, and misuse of power was something that both scared and angered the Eltee.

"We need you to set up motion sensors out in the jungle, standard milk-run. Scanners show no activity and it should be an easy op. In and out within two hours."

"Yes sir, I understand completely sir." H paused for a moment, waiting for a reply. "Are you going to tell me where sir?" he finally said, trying to keep the condescension out of his voice.

"Oh right...yes of course, Lieutenant." He heard a rustle of papers and the tapping of keys. Idiot. "You are to take three squads out to grid thirteen by twenty-four, at oh-four hundred hours. It's about five twenty klicks from your current position, so it may take a while to get where you need to be."

"Roger that sir, grid thirteen by twenty-four. Don't worry sir, I'll get it done."

"Thank you Lieutenant. Report back when you return. Willis, out." There was a pop of static on the other end and then silence. He looked down at the tech sitting next to him. He had a bemused look on his face; obviously it wasn't only McCasky that disliked Willis. He turned to see that his squad leaders had entered the room and were arranging themselves around the table.

He walked over to them and stood at the head of the table.
"Gentlemen," he smiled "We have work to do."





"Alright ladies," Raynes bellowed as he entered his squads quarters. "Get up and ready, the Eltee's got a milk-run for us. Sensor placement at grid thirteen by twenty-four. We're dusting out at o-four-hundred, that's in twenty minutes. We're goin' out in the 'hogs. I want standard deployment and weapons, people." He looked at the dozen people in front of him in silence for a split second. "MOVE!"

The room became a sudden flurry of movement as the leathernecks went to their bunks and started loading their gear up. Armour was snapped into place, helmets were checked and fastened, weapons were locked and loaded. Raynes didn't need to do any of this as he was already in his gear, his rifle slung over his shoulder. Harland came up to him, placing his helmet on his head and bringing the HUD screen down over his right eye.

"Who else is out, sir?" he said quizzically.

"Bravo and Echo are going with us."

"Three squads? Overkill don't you think?"

"I just do what they tell me to do, Corporal." He hesitated for a moment, taking in the man's words. "And remember that the nearby city is crawling with Covenant troops. Command just want to be on the safe side, that's all. We wouldn't want another Yazule now, would we?" Harland nodded in agreement, then went back to his bunk to collect the rest of his equipment.

Fifteen minutes later his men were geared up and ready, standing in two lines next to each other.

"Alright, lets move people!" he shouted, kicking open the door. The marines filed out quickly into the morning air, the sun just visible over the nearest rise. The air was damp and cold, but the soldier's thermal equipment would shield them from it all. To his right and left, Echo and Bravo squads were also marching out of their tents, jogging quickly towards the Warthogs.

Lieutenant McCasky stood at the front of one of the dozen Warthogs, his hands resting on his shotgun. The three squads came to a halt a few metres away, six lines of battle-hardened troops al ready for some action. Of which on this mission they wouldn't get any.

"Alright, people," McCasky began "As I'm sure your squad leaders have told you, we are to set up sensors at grid thirteen by twenty-four. Don't ask me why there, the brass obviously think it's a hot zone. It's a simple snoop job, we go in, set up and bug out. Questions?" there were none. "Right people, I've got point. Let's move out!"

Raynes was first to his 'hog, diving into the drivers seat. Manny came up next to him, and he saw the massive bulk of Harris taking hold of the LAGG. Three more Warthogs made up his squad and when he saw that the last person was aboard, he gunned the engine and floored the accelerator, taking up position behind the lead vehicle, which was driven by McCasky.

The LRVs bounced along the mud tracks over the hills, towards the jungle area. It looked like a death trap, and Raynes got a funny feeling in the pit of his stomach as he steered towards the gaping opening, funnelling into a narrow streambed. It wasn't long before it became too narrow and too deep for them to carry on. The Lieutenant brought his vehicle out of the trench and up onto the ridge and came to a stop. The other Warthogs came to stop behind him. Raynes heard McCasky come over the radio.

"Okay people, this is as far as we can get the 'hogs, time to go in ninja style. Let's double time it people."
Raynes turned to Manny who had a grin on his face.

"Look's like we're walking!"

All Roads Lead To Sol...But Unfortunately Not Away: Chapter 21
Date: 19 May 2004, 3:02 PM

Chapter 21

0800 Hours, July 18, 2552 (Military Calendar) /
Sigma Octanus IV, grid thirteen by twenty-four

Blackness. That's all it was, blackness. No sound, no sight, no taste, touch or smell. Just nothing. It was as if he was in a kind of limbo between life and death, not knowing what to do. He knew he wasn't dead as he had some feeling of consciousness, but also knew he was far from alive at that moment in time. He couldn't remember anything. Couldn't remember where he was, who he was, why he was here, wherever here was. He didn't even know why he couldn't see or hear, couldn't wake up, but he did know that he was alive. He delved deep down into his mind and tried to find something, what he didn't know, but he knew there was something there he could use. He pushed at something. There he thought. He felt something move. Was it his finger? Which finger was it? He pushed again, this time harder. He felt his hand clench, the muscles contracting and the fingers wrapping around underneath each other into a fist.

He searched again, pushing at another part, felt a foot move, but was resisted by something. What? What was it? He could move it up and down but only to a certain extent. He couldn't extend it fully, nor retract it back as it should. He pushed at both places together, and felt both his foot and hand move in unison, wriggling backwards and forwards. Another place and he felt his other hand move, then his other foot, and then both his legs. It wasn't much movement but he could tense and relax the muscles. Soon he was in control of all his body again, could tense and relax each muscle, feel his chest rising and falling, feel his fingers clench and unclench, feel his feet moving from side to side, up and down. But there was still resistance to them all.

Something was limiting him in doing what his body should be doing. But what? He still didn't know where he was, or why he was here. He tried to move his arm up and over his chest, and felt his bicep catch on something metallic, cold, making him jerk back in surprise.

And then it all came flooding back. The sensor placement, grid thirteen by twenty-four, the UNSC, the Covenant, all of it. The metallic material was that of his body armour, and he couldn't move his feet properly because of the dead body on his legs.

Manny opened his eyes and saw lush green trees above him, swaying in the light breeze of the morning. The sun pierced through the gaps in the jungle canopy, projecting shafts of light onto the ground around him. It seemed serene, quiet, as if nothing was happening. And then his hearing returned with a crash, as something detonated nearby, scattering earth and blood over him. He rolled to his right as he finally managed to regain control of his body, and as he did so his eyes took in a view he wished never to see again.

A dozen bodies littered the ground around him, some with no arms, no legs, no heads, no lower body. It was heart wrenching to see it, and Manny knew he was in very grave danger. He tried to remember what had happened here, what had become of his squad mates.

They had reached the co-ordinates, and found a huge grotto that was an overwhelming site at first, with lush vegetation, a sparkling waterfall and a huge lake. Then something had blown the Lieutenant out of existence, as well as whoever was standing next to him. Manny had seen his squad turn and run, but Bravo and Echo hadn't been so lucky and had been overpowered. That was when Manny blacked out, he didn't know what from. He checked for wounds quickly and discovered he was unhurt, although his head throbbed.

And then he lay there, in silence, trying to discern the noises around him. How long had he been unconscious? How long had he lain there, whilst his comrades were slaughtered? He peered around and saw he wasn't far from the grotto, about twenty metres to its edge. He had seen movement atop the waterfall when they were attacked, but whatever it was, it wasn't there now. He turned back to the dead around him. He hoped Fincher, Sarah and the rest of his squad mates were alright, hoping that they weren't the bodies lying in front of him.

He was about to get to his feet when he heard chattering a few metres away and froze in place. The noise grew louder and Manny recognised it as that of a Grunt. No, not one, but two. They were speaking in their alien language, emitting guttural barks and squeaks as they neared his position. His hand was at his side, trying to slowly pull out his HE pistol.

They were going to spot him, he knew it. He could probably get one of them, but its partner would most certainly burn him into the ground. They couldn't have been but a meter away now, he could hear their hoof-life feet stamping the ground nearby. Then their squeaking stopped, and it sounded like one was whispering to the other.

They'd seen him. He heard one of them fumble with its plasma weapon and knew this was it. The all-too familiar sound of a plasma pistol overcharging filled his ears and he waited for the impact on his back, waited for the searing pain that would follow.

Now, he thought to himself, it's coming now. But at the moment he thought it would fire, the loud crackling sound of a Sub-Machine Gun erupted, and he heard surprised shouts from the Grunts. He rolled over, pulling his pistol free and saw that one of the aliens had gone down, blue blood pouring from its chest. The other one, however still had its weapon charged and was aiming passed Manny.

He raised the weapon up to the Covenant's head and fired off three shots, catching cleanly with each bullet and sending it to the ground, the plasma discharging harmlessly into the air.

He lay there, the weapon smoking in his hand, waiting to see if anything came at him. A second passed and he suddenly felt something grab at his armour. He spun around on the floor and brought his pistol up, ready to fire.

The bloodied face of Harris greeted him with a smile. A long gash stretched from his forehead to his cheek and one of his eyes was swelled closed. He put a hand on the barrel of the weapon and pushed it slowly away from his head, then hefted Manny to his feet.

"C'mon, we gotta get out of here." He said, reaching down momentarily to pick up the SMG he had used to down the Grunts. Manny paused quickly, then grabbed a nearby MA5B and three clips of ammo. They made their way from the carnage, Harris stopping to pick up a Jackhammer launcher and two extra rockets. Slinging it over his shoulder, he caught up with Manny and the pair headed back to where they had left the Warthogs.

After running for five minutes, they slowed to a jog, keeping their eyes open for any sign of the enemy. The forest was thicker than Manny thought, not even being able to see an opening back into the clearing.

"What happened back there?" Manny asked, his lungs taking in deep breaths of air.

"Something big took out the El-tee," Harris replied. "They were waiting for us, Manny, it was a trap. They wiped out Bravo squad just as quick, and Echo didn't do any better either. It was just blind luck that Raynes had pulled Alpha back to set up the sensors. When all hell broke loose, I saw Raynes take a plasma bolt in the head. Harland and a few others high-tailed it into the jungle, the rest of the squad was taken down by a group of Jackals that had come up behind us. At that point I got knocked to the ground by an explosion and lay there till the shooting stopped."

"Did you see what happened to Sarah?" Manny asked, trying not to let the emotion in his voice show. Harris shook his head slowly, then turned to look away. Manny's head spun and his stomach flipped over. If something had happened to her, Manny would go insane. She could be dead for all he knew, and he wouldn't even have a chance to say goodbye or anything.

"C'mon man," Harris piped up "We gotta get going. This place could be crawling with Covenant." He grabbed Manny by the shoulder and pulled him by his battle harness out into the harsh rain had been previously shielded from them by the jungle canopy. Now they stood out in the open, staring at a large plain of land, a dozen Warthogs parked nearby. They both ran towards the nearest one, Manny diving into the drivers seat. Harris slung his rifle and the Jackhammer launcher he had picked up into the passenger seat and then climbed up into the gun emplacement. Manny gunned the engine and the wheels spun in the dirt, jerking the jeep forwards as they finally sped away from the jungle they had nearly been massacred in.





"Are you sure we're going the right way?" Harris bellowed down at Manny. The jeep was now going at a slow pace, the driver confident they were well away from any Covenant forces. After leaving the jungle behind them, the pair had driven for over five hours, but never found Firebase Bravo or their senior HQ, which was worrying, as Manny had gotten such a high score in the map-reading course he took back at boot camp. Harris had kept telling Manny to "go this way" and "through that ravine" and so on, and Manny had followed his directions until they found themselves back near the mouth of the jungle again.

"Nope!" Manny shouted back. "And I don't care! I'm sure if we drive long enough we'll find somewhere with life!"

"Hopefully not alien life! What if we're left behind on this planet? What if the Covenant glass it with us on it?"

"Then we're fucked!" Manny replied tersely. He jerked the steering wheel sharply to the left, spinning the Hog round a cluster of boulders, one of which jutted out above the ground and nearly took Harris out of his seat.

Up ahead, Manny spotted the coastline. If there was sea around, maybe there was a boat of some sort they could get on? If he remembered correctly, the map he saw showed a continent a few hundred kilometres East of their position. The vehicle bounded onto the sandy beaches that lined the silvery-blue water. It was getting late in the day now, the sun drifting down towards the horizon, casting a yellow glare onto the waves. Harris unbuckled himself from the chain gun, picked up his SMG and clambered into the passenger seat, not saying a word. Manny peered to his right and saw the shock and confusion on Harris' face. But then again, he had worn that same expression after every single engagement with the Covenant, and Manny wondered if the bigger man was having flashbacks of Greggs' death.

The pair drove on in silence for what seemed like an eternity, just staring ahead, their minds filled with the day's events. It wasn't until they rounded a beachhead that Manny finally spoke.

"Hey is that a boat?" he pointed over to what looked like a wooden dock. At the end of it a small vessel bobbed up and down in the water, its white panels glowing in the afternoon sun. As they neared it, they saw it was a leisure yacht, and a little over twenty metres in length. Although space-ships, planes, and every other kind of transport had been evolving over the centuries, boats had stayed very much the same, except that electric engines had replaced the cumbersome old-fashioned combustion engines of the 20th century. Other than that, the yacht looked like one two hundred years ago.

Manny steered the Hog onto the peer and right up to the boat, noticing that the wooden slats beneath the wheels were bending under the weight of it. He hopped out whilst Harris hefted himself up onto the back of the passenger seat and surveyed the area.

Manny stepped onto the back of the boat, his rifle raised, ready for any unwanted surprises. He stepped through the door that led into the boat itself, and noticed that it was just like those leisure yachts he used to see in magazines and on the television; pristine white, with everything you could ever need. There were holo-screens, TV-screens, GPS, two of the comfiest looking beds and a mini-bar in the lounge area. Climbing up on to the deck he walked over to the large, oak-finish steering wheel; something that was actually a piece of ornamentation rather than what was used to steer the craft.

Next to it was a touch-screen, a throttle control and a flexi-grip joystick. He flicked through the various options on the screen until he came to the "Start-Up" screen. With the touch of a button, the motors came to life. He glanced over the side of the boat and waved to Harris.

"Hey it works, c'mon." Harris smiled back at him, but it soon turned to one of horror as the unmistakable sound of a Banshee's whining engine filled the air. Manny's head darted up and saw the purple craft looming down on them. "GET IN!!" he yelled, pulling out his sidearm. The pistol came up in his hands and aimed at the assault-craft. Without his helmet, and the HUD display that came with it, he couldn't zoom in, but the Banshee was pretty close now and he unleashed several rounds into its shiny hull. Sparks flew off of the aircraft and it wavered in the air slightly, but apart from that it was unscathed.

Blue plasma rained down from the sky, splashing in the water in front of the dock and tracing up and onto the wooden panels, splitting them in half. Harris dove into the back of the Warthog, clutching at the Jackhammer launcher. He got a hand round it and forced his legs to move, propelling him sideways and out of the LRV. As he cleared it, a huge ball of green plasma exploded from the incoming Banshee and impacted on the side of the Warthog, blowing it into the air, taking the dock with it.

Manny jammed another clip into his pistol and fired round after round into the purple craft. It swooped low over where Harris, who now was clambering into the side of the yacht. Manny fired the last bullet in the clip and a metallic clack signalled there was no ammunition left. He fumbled for another magazine and slapped it home, and brought it up for a third assault. The Banshee soared over the water, and as it pulled up to circle back round, it exploded into a ball of fire as Manny's final round penetrating one of its fuel pods. The wreckage spun in the air, spilling molten metal into the ocean where it sizzled and smoked.

He looked on in disbelief at what he had just witnessed, then he snapped back to reality and went to the back of the pilot station and saw Harris looking equally as awe struck as he must have. They exchanged glances for a split second and then Harris sprinted up on top, the Jackhammer launcher slung over his shoulder. Manny jammed the throttle forwards and grabbed the joystick, feeling it mould to his touch through his gloves. The boat roared and shuddered forwards, parting the water and jetting off at an alarming speed.

"Where the hell had that come from?" Harris yelled. "It couldn't have been following us for all that time could it?"

Manny glanced at the taller man as he steered the boat due East. "I think that's exactly what it did. It probably thought that we might go back to Firebase Bravo, or even better, HQ. Then it could radio in our position and we'd get blitzed left, right and centre." He whipped sweat from his brow. "He could have radioed in before he attacked us for all we know. There could be a dozen ships on their way."

Harris winced as he poked at the cut on his forehead. When they had gotten in the Warthog, he had slapped a bandage on it, but it had come off in the Banshee attack. Crusted blood caked his forehead. "So what now? We go to wherever and try and find a drop ship back to the Fair Weather?" Harris mumbled.

"That's about the size of it." Manny replied, sighing heavily. "I don't know what else to do." They stood in silence as the boat jolted over the waves, watching the sun get lower and lower in the sky, until it was an orange globe on the horizon, smothered by the glistening ocean ahead of them.





Oma 'Kitomee swung his Banshee attack-ship in a tight arc, bringing it down low over the ocean. The small craft skimmed the waves, accelerating away from the land he had previously been circling. He checked his radar and noticed the three ships behind him had cut into a tight formation, with two either side of him and one in the centre, not metres apart from them. One of his men had spotted a human vehicle, what they called a "Warthog", driving along a dirt track whilst on patrol. He'd given the pilot permission to tail the vehicle, to see if it led them back to their main base of operations, something he had wanted to do himself but his orders were to patrol the coast.

He and his four ships could have easily destroyed the vehicle but what would be better than to call in the position another human camp to his superiors? They had already hit two, completely decimating them, or so the reports had said. 'Kitomee had kept in contact with the pilot, and followed two kilometres behind him, in case he ran into trouble. When a report came back that the humans had stopped and were inspecting a "boat", he ordered the Banshee to attack, but had subsequently lost contact. And on reaching the point of his man's last transmission had found nothing but the wreckage of his downed aircraft and the "Warthog", and no sign of the "boat" or the humans.

What could have been a stroke of genius on 'Kitomee's behalf had turned into a slight annoyance. If his superiors found out he had deviated from his patrol and lost a ship in the process, he could face a court-marshal, or even a jail sentence. Another plan had formulated in his mind, one which involved finding and destroying the humans who had cost him a good pilot. Of course, he would have to modify his report a little so it looked like he hadn't broken from patrol. His men wouldn't take much convincing to lie to the higher-ups, and they were eager to kill something that day.

All Roads Lead To Sol...But Unfortunately Not Away: Chapter 22
Date: 19 May 2004, 3:08 PM

Chapter 22

1800 Hours, July 18, 2552 (Military Calendar) /
Sigma Octanus IV, grid nineteen by thirty-seven

Harland watched the Spartans move with startling precision and speed, moving around the camp at such velocity that he had trouble following them with his eyes. It had only been a few moments since the pelican drop ship landed with them in it, and he found himself gaping at them. Behind him lay Camp Alpha, demolished, billows of smoke drifting up into the now dark sky. Various vehicles lay at the side of the main road leading in, crumbled buildings littered the now dead ground. He peered over his shoulder at the bunker and saw a few Marines staring out of the doorway at the now motionless cyborgs.

The Master Chief stood in front of him spoke briefly to another who then turned and faced the others, pointed in different directions, made a few hand signals and then they were gone, disappearing into the smoke, leaving Harland and the Chief. The reflective visor turned to him and Harland felt his blood run cold. The Master Chief was huge, he stood at least two metres tall, and his armour looked surreal in the dim light.

"Are you in command here, Corporal?" Harland looked back over his shoulder for a second time, then swept the horizon quickly. Yeah, he was. Who else was there?

"I guess so...yes, sir." He swallowed against a lump in his throat. His knees were trembling and he could feel his face going paler. Pull yourself together, man he told himself. This was no way to act around one of the most dangerous and respectable members of the UNSC armed forces.

"As of 0900 Standard Military time, NavSpecWep is assuming control of this operation. All Marine personnel now report through our chain of command. Understand, Corporal?"

"Yes, sir."

"Now, Corporal, brief me on what happened here." All sorts of weird things ran through his mind. God where to start. He hunched down on the ground and started to draw rough maps of the area in the dirt, then began telling the chief how three squads of Marines had nearly been brutally wiped out on a so called 'milk run'. He told of how they came out of nowhere, how the Lieutenant was blown away by some mammoth of a creature, and how Firebase Bravo was completely decimated.

"And that's it, we ended up here." He looked at the Chief who stared down at the crude drawings for a moment. He gave a slight nod then looked at Harland.

"Get your wounded inside the Pelican, Corporal. We'll be dusting off soon. I want you to rotate by thirds on guard duty. The rest of your men should get some sleep. But make no mistake-if the Pelican gets fragged, we'll be staying on Sigma Octanus Four." The Corporal swallowed hard again, his stomach turning to ice.

"Understood, sir." Harland just about found the energy to stand, stretching his battle weary legs. He saluted the Master Chief then moved off to the bunker where his men awaited.

"What did they say, sir?" Walker piped up as Harland neared the structure, his eyes darted from him to somewhere distant over his shoulder. Fincher stood next to him, his rifle propped up on his shoulder. His face was grim, and what Harland was about to say would only make it worse.

"Get Cochran in the Pelican, we're guarding this post till they get back." He looked down at the ground and noticed his boots were covered in purple and red blood. It had been a long day, one he wished he'd never had.

"What?" a marine exclaimed. Harland looked up, he didn't know the man's name; he was one of the marines helping fight the fires back at the camp. "We're not getting out?"

"We are," Harland said, "We're just waiting for the Spartans to do their job." He looked at the faces of the marines in front of him. None looked too happy, but the appearance of the 'super-soldiers' had lightened their spirits a bit, given them hope. "Now help me get Cochran."

Harland and Fincher picked up the unconscious form of Cochran and lifted him over to the Pelican, followed by a dozen others. He told half to get rest, the other half to stay watch outside the ship. He sat Cochran down in one of the seats and bandaged him up some more. Fincher and Walker handed out extra ammunition and cigarettes to the others.

It had been a harrowing day, one he hoped would not be matched for the rest of his career. He looked out the Pelican and saw Fincher and Walker talking intensely with each other. It looked like Fincher was comforting the other private, after all Walker had nearly lost it altogether out there today. But he had come through, and for the better thank god. Harland was in good company. He lit a cigarette and sat back in one of the seats, checking on Cochran. The man lay very still, his breathing shallow and ragged. Harland didn't know if he'd make it and could only hope he lived through this.

He set his head back against the bulkhead, and despite his best efforts he found himself falling asleep.





The sky was a dark blue now, and a few ships were visible in the sky. Manny noticed that two of them appeared to be on fire, and another looked like it was about to fall into the planet's atmosphere it had come that close. The sea ahead of them was calm, and on the horizon Manny could see a faint glow that could only be a coastline. That or someone has started a really big bonfire he mused to himself. Harris was below the deck getting some sleep, it had been a tough day for both of them and they had been taking it in turns to rest every two hours or so.

No matter how hard he tried, Manny just couldn't get the image of his dead comrades lying next to him in burnt and charred pieces; an image he knew he'd have with him for the rest of his life, stored up with many more. He yawned and stretched his arms over his head, feeling the tension leak out of his system. The boat ride had been fairly uneventful, apart the scramble away from the Banshee attack. After thirty minutes Manny had pulled back on the throttle to half speed, noticing that the engine temperature had nearly reached critical levels. And the last thing they needed was a blow out. Harris had insisted that he go below and get some sleep, but Manny just found himself gazing up at the ceiling of the room he lay in, thinking about what had happened.

He had ran through all the possibilities of what might have happened to Sarah and the others, but found that the only conclusions he came to were ones he didn't even want to contemplate. His mind needed to be on what he was doing now, what had happened already, or what was to come if he made it off of this planet alive.

Over the faint sound of the waves lapping against the hull, he heard something behind. He turned quickly to see nothing but blackness behind him. He winced, trying to discern the noise but could only see the black sky, and the even blacker ocean around them.

He turned back to the controls and blinked away a wave of fatigue that washed over him. But the noise seemed to grow, only slightly at first, but then it became loud enough that he was sure he wasn't imagining it.

He turned around again and squinted, and could have sworn he saw four shapes hovering above the waves, shadows against the horizon. But as he stared at the objects, they faded from his vision, and he had to look away and then look back again.

There. There was definitely something. Four black shapes, seemingly invisible. And as they grew larger in his vision, dread filled his bones as the droning roar of Banshee flyers filled his ears.

"Harris!" he bellowed, "We got company!" He drew his pistol, slapped a fresh clip into the receiver and aimed up at the black objects. A moment later Harris was beside him, the Jackhammer launcher slung on his shoulder. Manny pointed to where the Banshees were coming from and Harris hefted the launcher up into position and took aim.

"Don't shoot until you know you've got a shot." Manny didn't need to tell him. A moment passed until the shapes were no longer black objects but the outlines of four, purple-bodied Banshees, coming straight for them.

A flare from one of their noses emitted a green ball of hellish fire, and it was all Harris needed to know they were near enough. A deafening roar exploded next to Manny as Harris depressed the trigger. A rocket streamed out to meet the Banshees, and seemed to pass though the green plasma bolt that was coming towards them. The rocket impacted on the nearest Banshee, turning it into a ball of fire, and dropping it into the ocean. In the same instant, the green plasma ball smashed into the ocean just behind the stern of the boat, producing a shockwave that rocked the boat and producing a huge cloud of smoke as the searing heat was cooled in an instant by the freezing water.

One of the Banshees veered left and started to come around from the side, spitting out blue plasma at them. Manny and Harris dove for cover as several of the shots turned the floor where they had been standing into pulp. As it overshot the boat, Harris launched another rocket into the air, catching the Banshee on its rear and sending it spiralling into the water.

That left two. They had fallen back from where the first one had been hit, circling a few hundred metres from the boat. Manny got to his feet and jumped down from the top-deck and ducked behind one of the fishing chairs that were bolted to the back of the vessel. He knew it would do little to protect him from a plasma assault, but his hope was that they hadn't seen him do it.

Up on the top-deck, Harris pulled out the empty rocket module, discarded it and slapped home the spare one he had brought up with him. He pulled down the sheathing and locked it into position then joined Manny down on the deck.

One of the Banshees broke off and started to come towards them. The second one seemed to shoot straight up and disappeared into the dark. Manny aimed down the sight at the incoming craft, and when he thought it was close enough, fired off a round. He saw a spark as the bullet hit the hull, and it was all Harris needed to know it was time again. The rocket launcher jerked Harris back from where he was crouched. The projectile flew dead centre with the Banshee, and Manny shied away from the expected explosion. But at the last second, the Banshee spun away, dropping impossibly low to the ocean.

Harris cursed at himself, but before Manny had time to tell him it wasn't his fault, blue plasma bolts rained down from above them, impacting on the deck. Manny jerked his head up and saw the Banshee that had flown off coming straight at them, spitting deadly balls of fire at them. The pair dove through the port door and into the lounging area, watching the deck almost disintegrate from the onslaught.

"Shit, where'd that come from?!" Harris exclaimed. Manny shrugged and made his way up onto the top-deck. Both Banshees were nowhere to be seen. His head swivelled from side to side as he tried to find them. Harris had moved back out to the stern, his Rocket launcher back on his shoulder. Manny spun on his heels as a noise grew loudly in his ears, but it wasn't coming form behind, in front or to his left or right. He looked up and saw both Banshees practically on top of him.

Before he had time to react though, a huge ball of flame erupted over his head and he was blown off of his feet. He landed heavily on the stern where Harris was, and glanced up to see the launcher in Harris' hands smoking and one of the Banshees descending into the ocean in pieces. Manny's chest and head burned but he didn't have time to think about that now and pushed the pain aside. He jumped up and pulled out his pistol, and then fired off a whole clip into the remaining Banshee. It swooped low as the bullets ricocheted off of it, pulling up at the last minute and narrowly missing the top-deck.

Before Manny could get another clip into his pistol, Harris brought up his SMG and sprayed the bottom of the craft as it loomed overhead, and once again, his vision was filled with bright light as the Banshee exploded. The remains dipped into the sea, splashing water over the side of the boat, soaking Manny's boots and legs. They stood in stunned silence for a moment before Harris dropped his weapon and fell to the deck. And that was when Manny saw it; a plasma bolt had hit Harris square in the chest. Blood streaked his uniform and Manny noticed the man's blackened neck and torso.

Manny dropped to his knees, shouting out. He grabbed Harris' head and held it up, staring into his eyes. But the life had gone from them. He felt how eerily warm the body was from the extreme heat that had engulfed it. "No!" he bellowed in the night. "No! You can't die! Harris! Wake up you son of a bitch!" he cradled the larger man's head in his hands, and felt tears stream down his face. This can't be happening. Not another. But it was too late, Harris, like Greggs, Grace, and all those before him, was gone from this world.

He slumped and let the limp body go. A sudden wave of nausea and pain washed over him and he felt his head spin, but before he could figure out what was wrong unconsciousness took hold of him. The last thing he saw as he fell back on the deck was the huge plasma burn on his chest...





He awoke with a start, as if from a bad dream. Harland looked at his watch; it had been two hours since he last checked. God had he been out for that long? Fincher walked up the ramp and came to a halt, resting his rifle on the chair next to him.

"How you holdin' up sir?" Fincher said, his voice calm.

"Yeah, fine." He yawned, cupping a hand over his mouth. "Have we heard from anyone else in our platoon? Harris? McCoy? Davids?"

"Afraid not, sir. There's nothing on the com apart from static, but there's something else, sir."

"What?" Harland felt the fatigue drain away from him.

"You might wanna come see for yourself, Corporal." Fincher replied with a smile. Harland sat up. If it was bad Fincher wouldn't be smiling. He leapt to his feet and marched down the ramp of the Pelican and was faced with a large group of civilians.

"Jeeze, they did it!" he uttered. The civilians looked shocked but pleased to be here. He looked around but couldn't see a single Spartan. Where the hell were they? "Fincher, where are the Spartans?" he looked to the private who gave a smirk.

"Be damned if I know!" Fincher walked down the ramp and came to a stand still by Walker. They searched the horizon but found no trace of the soldiers.

"Well, didn't you see them bring in the civies?" Harland said

"Well, yeah," Walker replied. He looked like a ghost to Harland. When they were hit by the Covenant Walker had froze up, so much so that Harland didn't even know if Walker was going to pull through. Lucky he did, otherwise the day could have got much worse. "They came in with them, then took off back into the woods!"

"Right, get the civilians into the drop ship." Harland ordered. "When they get back we'll be leaving and I don't want to be hanging around!" and with that the marines came alive, shooing the people onto the ship, packing up supplies, getting ready for dust-off. Ten minutes later and all was quiet again. Harland called all the marines back to the drop ship. Now all they had to do was wait.

"How the hell did they do it?" Fincher said. "How'd they get over twenty civilians out of a city crawling with Covenant and not lose a single one?"

"How do you know they did that?" Harland replied

"The civies were talking about it when they got here." Fincher said "They said there was an army there, enough Covenant to take out two or three cities in a day, and I mean large cities."

Before Harland could answer, a cry came from one of the marines. He turned quickly and saw a soldier pointing to the woods. Plumes of blue smoke rose from the foliage and into the dark sky. As it did so, a handful of Spartans emerged from the underbrush. One of them was carrying another over its shoulder, and as they neared the Pelican Harland saw that the arm of the Spartan being carried was gone from the elbow down. I thought those guys were invincible! Harland thought to himself. All of a sudden the bush came alive and more Spartans came into the clearing. One of them took the wounded soldier and started towards the drop ship. The Spartans moved with incredible speed. Watching them was mesmerising.

Harland noticed that one of the Spartans that emerged from the clearing was the Master Chief. He approached the imposing figure, stopped and saluted him. "Sir? How did you do it? Those civilians said you got them out of the city - past an army of Covenant, sir, how?"

The Chief tilted his helmeted head to one side. "It was our mission, Corporal," came the rough voice. Harland stared into the golden visor, then looked around him as the other Spartans ran past.

"Yes, sir." Harland took a step back from the Master Chief. He turned back to the Pelican and walked over to the ramp. His men were already inside, waiting for the last few people to board. Harland mounted the ramp and took a seat next to Cochran. The private had come round, his face pale and his eyes dull. But Harland could see strength behind them.

"Did we do it? Are...are we getting out of here?" his voice was weak and he coughed after the last words.

"Yes, soldier, we're out." Harland breathed a sigh of relief. "We're out..."

All Roads Lead To Sol...But Unfortunately Not Away: Chapter 23
Date: 9 July 2004, 8:45 AM

Chapter 23

0900 Hours, July 19th, 2552 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Carrier Fair Weather, Slipspace
Destination Reach

Harland leaned back in his chair and scrunched his palms into his eyes. The fatigue that ran through him almost outweighed the sorrow he felt for the loss of his men. His men. On returning to the Fair Weather he had been promoted to squad Sergeant, not that there was much of a squad left anymore. At first he thought it was good, but then it struck him that he'd have to live up to Raynes, and that was something he knew he couldn't do.

He sat in the office that had once belonged to his commanding officer and close friend; it was heartbreaking to look at the ornamentation and pictures the Sergeant had in the office. Out of the twelve men in Alpha Squad who entered the jungle, only four had made it back up to the Weather. Walker and Fincher were down in recovery with Cochran, who had come out of surgery an hour before hand. His survival was all that stopped Harland from going crazy.

The screen in front of him displayed a list of casualties from the entire day. Every member from Bravo and Echo squads had been listed as KIA, and everyone who was at Firebase Bravo was either KIA or MIA. The same went for those that had suffered at Fleet HQ where Harland and his men had been picked up. He flicked to the next page, which had the members of his squad on it. He had yet to submit his casualties to Colonel Watts, mainly because he was still hoping for them to show up and say "Hey, I'm alive!" but he knew it was futile.

Harland stared long and hard at the screen. He ticked off himself, Fincher, Walker and Cochran as alive, and then changed the option to KIA against Raynes' name. He then checked Davids and McCoy and a few others as KIA as well. A report had come in twenty minutes ago that their bodies had been found at grid thirteen by twenty-four, along with Echo and Bravo squads.

He sighed and sipped at the now-cold coffee that sat next to his computer. There were now only three names left on his screen that were unchecked; Manors, Harris and McCain. Their bodies hadn't been found, but that wasn't to say they weren't dead. He put MIA next to their names, hoping he would one day see them again.

He was just about to submit the list when his com buzzed.

"Harland" he said.

"Corp..I mean, Sergeant Harland, this is Lieutenant Wayans. We have some news for you." A rough, male voice said. For a minute he thought it sounded like Harris, but dismissed it.

"Go ahead," he replied.

"Private Sarah McCain has just come aboard the Fair Weather after being picked up by a search-and-rescue team." Harland breathed out heavily, feeling slight elation rise in him. "She's heading up to see you now, Sergeant."

"Thank you, sir." He was about to click the com off when the voice spoke again.

"That's not all, Harland." The voice said, a hint of challenge in his voice.

"Sorry sir, carry on." Now what?

"The body of Private Second Class Daniel Harris has been found." Harland's heart sank and the joy he had felt a minute before disappeared quicker than it had come. The walls seemed to close in around him and he became short of breath. "I'm sorry son."

"Thank you, sir. Will there be anything else?" he managed to stammer out.

"No, that will be all. Thank you Sergeant." The com clicked off from the other end and Harland leaned back in his chair. He sat in silence for a while, not knowing whether to feel joy because of Sarah being alive, or be sad for Harris.

He turned back to his screen, checking Sarah's box to being okay, then reluctantly put Harris' to KIA. He paused over the "Submit" button, staring at Manny's name. Wherever he was, Harland was sure he was alive.





"Sit up, Private Manors." A cool and soothing voice said. "Sit up, take a deep breath and cough. In order to swallow the protein complex, you must first regurgitate it." Manny sat up slowly, breathing as shallowly as he could. He rolled himself out of the form-fitting cot and sat up on the side, and vomited over the floor. A long stream of bile flowed from his mouth. When he had finished, he gagged and coughed, bringing up the yellow fluid that would replace all the nutrients he had lost whilst in cryo. But why was he in cryo? Where was he and where had he been? He glanced around the chamber in which his tube was situated and realised it was only on of two, and the other one was unoccupied. The cryo-bay was small too, with two lockers next to the only door, a shower and a small workstation.

He pushed himself up with weak arms and stepped over to the locker. Pulling back the latch he found black coveralls inside, with a pair of black boots and an M6D pistol in its holster strung next to them. He tried to focus on what had happened to him. He remembered being in a boat with Harris, watching him die, and then he had passed out. How had he gotten onto this ship? That was, if he was on a ship.

Before he time to think any more the voice chimed in again. "Please get dressed, Lieutenant Manors." Lieutenant?! He suddenly thought. What the hell was going on here?! He looked around the room for any sign of a camera or a pick-up, but found none.

"Where am I? And why did you just call me Lieutenant?" he demanded, keeping his voice low, but getting the message across.

"All will be explained once you are showered and dress, Lieutenant. Please get dressed and make your way to briefing room five." The voice said with a certain finality to it and Manny didn't like. He showered quickly, and then pulled on the black coveralls, which he noticed fit perfectly. He then strapped the pistol belt round his waist, pulled the weapon from its sheath and checked it. It was empty, and there was no clip in the receiver. Probably so he wouldn't shoot anyone in case he didn't like what was going on. Which at the moment he didn't.

The door slit open silently as he moved towards it, and he exited out into a dimly lit corridor. Dull lights were spaced a two metre intervals along the bottom of the walls on either side, and Manny could see that there were only two doors in this section apart from the one he had just come out of. One was situated at the end of the corridor, the other was just up from it, on the adjacent wall to where he stood.

"Please enter the room at the end of the corridor, Lieutenant." The sullen voice said, echoing around the metallic passageway. He walked slowly down towards the entrance, and saw it slide open as he came within two metres of it. Beyond was an even darker room, how big he couldn't tell. There was a bright light on the ceiling above him as he walked through the door, and he could vaguely make out a desk just beyond its reach.

He walked into the room, coming to a stop just outside the circle of light encompassing the floor. He could make out shadows in the darkness in front of him, sitting behind the desk. Who they were and why they were here, he felt, were questions he knew he wouldn't get answered.

"Lieutenant Manors," a hoarse voice said "please step into the light." It sounded like he was dying. Don't go into the light. He obliged, taking four steps forward and coming to a halt in the middle of the light circle.

"Do you know why you are here?" another voice spoke, this one to the left of the first, and this one was female, maybe in her mid forties.

"No, ma'am. I do not. In fact, I do not even know where here is." Manny was surprised at how calm he felt. Under the circumstances he should be feeling distraught, angry and ready to smash their faces in. But he wasn't. He must have been drugged in some way or another. "Would you care to tell me where we are and what I am doing here?"
There was a pause.

"As well as why I am being referred to as Lieutenant."
Another pause.

"Or is this a huge mistake?"

There was silence for a few moments before the first voice echoed around the room again, this time a little more flat than before.

"Lieutenant Manors, you are aboard the UNSC Frigate Apprentice. Our whereabouts at the moment are strictly classified, but we can tell you why you are here and why we are calling you Lieutenant rather than Private First-Class." He coughed to clear his throat, and Manny heard the shuffling of papers. "As you are fully aware, the Office of Naval Intelligence Section Three is dedicated to special operations within the UNSC, many in an effort to stop the Covenant war against humanity.

"We can see from your record that you have had a run in with a Section Three agent, one Lieutenant Bradley Manors," the name brought back haunting images of that fateful first mission on Derian Prime. "who we can see here is, in fact your brother. We can also see from your record that you are a skilled soldier who takes the initiative and is not afraid to risk his life for others."
Manny suddenly became dizzy from what the man was saying. Is this going where I think it's going? He pushed the thought aside and waited for the man to begin again.

"Because of this, as well as your relation to Lieutenant Bradley Manors, we are enrolling you into Section Three as a field operative, a spook as it were, to operate within and outside of UNSC controlled space. You, technically speaking, do not have a say in the matter. If you were to decline, you would not be allowed to return to the UNSC Marine Corps, and would be discharged and sent back home to Earth. Anything you were to say about this incident would be denied. This is the standard procedure for all Section Three agents, so don't think this is unfair treatment."

Silence filled the room. So I was right, Manny thought. His head spun, not knowing what to think. He would never again be allowed to see Fincher, or Walker or Sarah. That was, of course, if they were still alive.

"I'm guessing from your silence, Lieutenant," the woman's voice came back "that you are at a cross roads as to the situation."

Without thinking, Manny replied. It was a reply he never would have said if he had sat down and thought about the option given to him.

"No ma'am, I am one hundred percent certain that this is what I want to do. I want to be part of the war against the Covenant, and if special operations means getting closer to it, then I want that."

He could feel the air around him warm, as if the smiles of those in front of him were conducting vast amounts of heat.

"You're training will start immediately." The man's voice said. "You will be trained on a one-to-one basis with one of our best agents, and then move on to special ops training when we get to our destination."

Manny felt his heart rate spike, the excitement build up. The images of his long gone friends faded from his view, not because he didn't care about them any more, but because he will now be able to exact revenge for them.

"What about paper work, sir?" Manny asked. "Aren't there disclaimer forms for me to fill out?"

"This is the Office of Naval Intelligence, son." The man replied. "As of this moment you don't exist."

All Roads Lead To Sol...But Unfortunately Not Away: Chapter 24
Date: 15 July 2004, 6:03 PM

Chapter 24

1200 Hours, July 19th, 2552 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Carrier Fair Weather, Slipspace
Destination Reach

      Sarah McCain didn't know what she felt. Was it anger? Was it hate? She knew for certain that one of the emotions flowing through her was pain, unbelievable pain. When she had reached Harland's office and received the news about Harris and Manny she almost collapsed. The thought of Manny being dead was something she could not bare thinking, and the fact that Harris was dead made the reality that her love had fallen all that more real. Harland had comforted her, telling her that although it was going to be hard, she would fight through it. He told her she was a tough person and would pull through. She knew it was all bullshit.
      She now sat at Cochran's bedside, holding his hand. He looked dead. His side was bandaged heavily and his breathing was irregular, but the doctors said he was going to make a full recovery in the next few weeks. His smile, although weak, was full of strength. Harris' death had hit him hard, but he said that Manny being listed as MIA meant he was alive, and that eased the pain. But only a little.
      Sarah couldn't agree with him. If Manny was on Sigma Octanus still, he would have been found. But if he had been found, she wouldn't know until they exited slipspace, and that wouldn't be for a while yet. So she hung in limbo, hoping for something that she felt would not come.
      "He'll turn up," Cochran whispered, again raising the subject. "He's alive, I can feel it." His eye lids sunk and opened again, his face drowsy from the drugs he was on.
      Sarah didn't reply, she just squeezed harder on his hand. Fincher and Walker sat the other side of him, both fast asleep in the chairs in which they sat. Both had been through hell, Harland had told her, and it showed. Fincher was paler than usual, and Walker just wasn't himself anymore.
      Harland's story of them being chased by Banshee's, seeing the decimated bases and then finally meeting a group of Spartans made what happened to her sound pathetic. After all hell had broken loose she had dived for the nearest bush, and after feeling the coast was clear she had high-tailed it out of there, jumped in a Warthog and driven as fast as she could in the opposite direction. It was just blind luck that a fighter jet spotted her and called in her position.
      The door behind her whooshed open and she heard footsteps quietly move up behind her. A heavy hand rested on her shoulder, a hand that she hoped was Manny's, but knew it wasn't. She turned and looked up at Harland, his eyes dull and face exhausted of all emotion.
      "We've been put on two weeks R n' R until we can get replacements for the soldiers we lost down on Sigma Octanus." There was pain in his voice and he avoided contact with both her and Cochran. "We'll be at Reach in a few days, so get your rest."
      And with that he turned and left. It would be a long time until all of them came back to being themselves, and Sarah had a feeling that it wouldn't be until this war was over, whether they won or lost it.




      Manny awoke with a start, wondering where he was. He shook the disorientation off and reached for the light next to his bed, but couldn't find it. A sadness took hold of him as his pleasurable dream faded into non-existence. The thought of not seeing his comrades again wrenching at his heart and stomach. The thought of them thinking him dead, getting passed it all and moving on was unbearable. Whilst he had to continue on, knowing he could never see them again. After his meeting with "them" he had cried in his room for two hours, curled up in a ball as it hit home about what he was giving up. Yet despite the pain and heart-ache, he also felt pride at having this honour bestowed on him.
      There were no tears to come from him today. Today is a different day, and today he would start a new life. He blinked a few times, trying to clear the dark, allowing his eyes adjust to it.
      But the blackness didn't fade out of view either, and he found that he couldn't see anything. Fear took hold of him, and an eerie awareness that he was not alone took hold of him. Trying to make sense of what was going on, he pulled back the light sheet covering him and placed his feet on the floor. His hands outstretched, he stood and felt his way to where he thought the door was.
      But before he got to where he wanted to be the lights flashed on, the glare blinding him. He made out a figure standing in the corner, black on the sudden blur of white in his vision.
      And then he felt a sharp pain in his stomach as he flew backwards against the wall. He crumpled into a heap on the floor and felt his breath quicken.
      What the fuck is going on here?! He tried to stand but felt something press down on his back, forcing him to the ground. He reached behind his back and tried to grab whatever it was, but it was in a position that neither of his arms could reach. Placing his hands on the floor he tried to force himself back up, or try and flip himself over, but to no avail.
      He finally gave up and went limp, letting his arms fall to his side, his face and bare chest pressing against the cold floor.
      "Alright, you win."
      "Since when." A familiar voice said "do you tell the enemy that you have won?" Manny tried to look up at his attacker but the light only cast a dull silhouette into his eyes.
      "Bradley?" he said, feeling himself being overcome with surprise. "Brad, you bastard, is that you?" he felt a smile cross his lips as the fear he had felt melted away. "Get off me, before I kick your ass." He said in jest. But the pressure only increased, pushing him into the floor and forcing all the air out of him, pain stabbing at his spine and chest.
      "ALRIGHT DAMMIT!!" he squealed with his last ounce of breath, "Get off me!"
      And then the pain was gone and he could breath again. The figure, he couldn't tell if it was Bradley or not, moved away. Manny rolled over onto his back and took in gulps of air, closing his eyes against the glare of the lights. A few moments passed, the attacker not doing anything more.
      He finally opened his eyes, and looked up at the figure above him. Bradley hadn't changed much since he saw him last, apart from a small amount of stubble around his chin and neck. His face was blank; no joy for seeing his brother, no love behind his eyes, just blankness as if he had never laid eyes upon him.
      "Bradley?" Manny asked, trying to get a response. "What are you doing here?"
      Nothing.
      "Will you answer me, damn it? Was it you that arranged this?"
      Still nothing.
      Manny stood slowly, wincing at the pain in his sides. He leaned against the wall and stared back at his brother, feeling a sense of loathing towards him.
      "What is this?" Manny finally said. "Is this a test or something? Or are you just pissed that I've become an agent of ONI? Have you come here to give me a good kicking, to teach me a lesson? To tell me not to do it? That I should go back to the Corps? Go back to being a worthless Grunt?"
      He didn't know where this rage inside him was coming from, or why he was directing it at his brother, the brother he loved as much as his mother, his father, his lover. It was a rage created from the sense of loneliness he felt, an aggression that he was aiming at the nearest person to him, which at this moment was Bradley.
      He wanted to reach out, grab Bradley round the throat and throttle him. Not kill him, but inflict the pain on him that Manny felt. No, he would not strike out. This was his brother, he has his reasons for doing what he just did.
      Manny stared into his brother's eyes, and knew that Bradley could see all this playing over his face, behind his eyes, in his hands as they clenched then unfolded again, releasing his anger. And for a moment Manny thought he saw pity as Bradley took a step towards him, his hand outstretched. Manny gave up and went to him, closing his eyes and feeling the embrace of his brother as they enfolded one another, releasing their emotions.
      But the embrace never came. Instead, Manny found himself on the floor again, his hand twisted behind his back and a searing pain in his neck.
      "I surprised you once, Jon. Why didn't you destroy me immediately afterwards? I saw it in your eyes, saw the spark that you needed to do so. But why didn't you? Is it because I stood back, retreated? It was you, in fact, that retreated, gave yourself up. You expected something and got something else."
      Manny breathed through the pain, trying to make sense of what was going on. It was obvious that Bradley's knee was pressing down on his neck.
      "You're....you're my brother..." he gasped out.
      "So?" Bradley snapped. "Does that not mean one can be an enemy because of kinship?"
      "Bradley...." Manny rasped "please, you're hurting me....get off of me, I can't breath." But the pain only increased as his chest was almost completely flattened against the floor, his arm bent back further and his neck pressed against harder. Black spots filled his vision and he felt his breathing become shallower with each breath.
      "Not until you understand what I am saying."
      Manny didn't know what to say. That his brother was now his enemy? That he shouldn't take things as they are? That anything could happen? He knew one thing, and that was that he would pass out soon if Bradley didn't get off of him.
      "You are an enemy," he said frantically. He felt the pressure ease up, his arm given back to him. Bradley stood and walked towards the door. He went for the switch, but never made it as Manny's foot came crashing round into his head, smashing him against the door.       Before Bradley could counter, Manny was up close, twisting his arm behind him and forcing him to the floor. He watched as pain contorted his brothers face into all shapes. His eyes clenched shut, his teeth bared, trying to get out of a hold that he had previously had on his brother.
      "Now are you going to tell me what the hell is going on here, and why you just tried to kill me?" Manny spat. He put his head down to his brothers. "You are my blood, my family. Why are you doing this?"
      Bradley didn't speak, he just closed up, trying to fight the pain. Manny held the hold for a few more moments then released him and stood. But as he did so, he felt his legs fly out from underneath him and saw Bradley's open hand slap down on his chest. He hit the floor with a thud, his head impacting on the steel surface. Pain spiked through his brain and he groaned out loud. Through half-closed eyes he saw Bradley stand and move towards the door, wiping a trace of blood from his lip, unphased by the whole debacle.
      "Why did you do this, Bradley?" Manny groaned. "You're my brother."
      "No, Jon." He replied. "I am not your brother. Not now. Now I am your teacher." And with that he was gone.




      The next week was tough for Manny. When they met the day after their little fight, neither Manny nor Bradley spoke of it and Bradley wasn't as harsh on him after that, but he was tough. They started out with basic training, which involved armed and unarmed combat, both to an advanced level that Manny never thought possible, as well as pilot training. He was up at six every morning, and wouldn't sleep until midnight, exhausted from the day. He ate three meals a day, all high-complex proteins or carbohydrates, but still felt hungry after the day was out.
      The only person he saw was Bradley, who was in his room every morning, and was either laconic or completely silent throughout the day. He'd tell him what he would be doing, and how he would be doing it. Bradley was right; he wasn't his brother. Not at this moment in time. He was a teacher. And he was the best damned teacher Manny had ever had. Manny learnt new things every day; a new way to get out of a hold, a different way of shooting, how to pilot the ONI Prowlers through simulations.
      The training was different everyday, and Manny felt like he was back in school again, his mind awash with information that he was sure he could never soak up. But he did. At the end of the first week Bradley had attacked him in his room again, but this time Manny was ready for it and almost defeated him. The best thing was that the things he had thought he'd never remember came back to him like he had never forgotten them.
      On the twelfth day Bradley wasn't in his room, waiting for him. He wasn't outside it either. Manny stumbled down the corridor, his arms week from the blocking techniques he had learned yesterday. He made his way down the long corridor and into the mess hall.
      There at one of the tables sat Bradley, a bowl of noodles sitting in front of him. He looked up at Manny and smiled for the first time since they had been reunited. Manny felt confusion run through him. He walked over to his brother, taking a seat opposite him.
      "Why are you smiling?" he asked, feeling himself automatically tense for any sign of an attack from him.
      "Because today you are my brother. Today you are not my pupil. I am not your student. Today we will be brothers, as we were seven years ago."
      "I don't think we'll ever be the brothers we were seven years ago." Manny replied, a sly smile spreading on his face. "This isn't a test is it?"
      Bradley shook his head, his face genuine. "No, this is not a test. Today is your R n' R. Make the most of it, because we've reached our destination and you won't be getting another day like this for a month." It suddenly occurred to Manny that the whole time he had been here that he never knew where here was. It had been one of the main questions on his mind when he had awoke that fateful day and had his life change in a split second. The rigours of training had kept everything else out of his mind. Sarah. His parents. Harland. The rest of his comrades.
      "Ship?" Manny finally said. "So we are on a ship." Bradley looked up at him, a slight look of disbelief on his face.
      "You've been here nearly two weeks and you didn't know this was a ship?" he said chewing round a mouthful of noodles.
      "I never thought to ask." Manny replied quickly. "I thought I'd probably get fobbed off with some answer like 'that's classified' or some bullshit like that."
      "You're part of ONI now, little brother." Bradley remarked "There ain't much that will be classified any more."
      Manny sat in silence for a moment. Then felt hunger envelop him. He jumped up, startling Bradley slightly, and grabbed a bowl-full of noodles, scoffing them down as fast as his throat could manage it. Once he had finished the bowl he went and got another, then sat and slowly ate it, contemplating his next set of questions.
      "I've had little chance to think since I was brought aboard here. I've had things hammered into me for twelve solid days, with little chance to reflect on any of it, or think about what happened to me before hand."
Bradley set his fork down and folded his arms over his chest.
      "I'm never going to get to see them again am I." Manny simply said. "Sarah, mum, dad. None of them. As far as they are concerned I'm dead, right? They'll get over it and move on. Whereas I have to live with the thought that I know I can see them at any moment I want, but in doing so could cost me my position."
      "That and you'll probably be executed for disobeying a direct order from UNSC High Com." Bradley interjected. "It's tough, Jon but it's life. And besides, after that Sigma Octanus fuck up how do you know any of them are alive still?"
      Bradley's words stung him deep, but in his heart he knew that it could be true. How did he know that they were alive still? As far as he knew it was only him and Harris that made it out. And Harris had died in his arms.
Manny felt his eyes well-up, but he forced the tears back, telling himself that it wouldn't solve anything. Bradley averted his gaze, knowing what his brother was going through.
      "No," Manny finally said. "They aren't dead, I know they're not. They made it out alive/"
      "Maybe." His brother said "you'll see them again, like I saw you on Derius. Maybe you'll run into them."
      That thought gave hope to Manny.
      "And maybe," Bradley continued "when this whole thing is over, if we're still alive, we'll see mum and dad again."
      The image of his parents flashed in his mind and pride welled up inside of him.
      "Would that be allowed?" Manny asked.
      "Who cares," Bradley announced. "After this war is over I'm quitting the military and going back home. And I'm dragging you with me. You and that girlfriend of yours."
      Manny laughed at the comment, but sadness washed over him at the thought of not seeing Sarah. Not smelling her, being with her, touching her, loving her. He forced himself to think about something else.
      "So where are we heading? Where are we at this point in time?" Manny jested "Have we been taken to the ONI training facility? Is it in the ass-end of nowhere? Hell has the system or planet even got a name?"
      "Yeah," Bradley replied. "It's called Earth."

All Roads Lead To Sol...But Unfortunately Not Away: Chapter 25
Date: 9 September 2004, 10:14 PM

Chapter 25

1100 Hours, August 12th, 2552 (Military Calendar) /
Epsilon Eridani System, Reach UNSC Military Complex,
Planet Reach, Camp Hathcock

      "Will that be all?" the stone-cold voice grated around the room. There were a few murmurs before there came a reply.
      "Captain Keyes, we're done with what we have to say. Your help is much appreciated." And with that the Captain turned and walked from the interrogation room. Manny could clearly see the irritation on the man's face as he marched towards the double doors. Well that had been interesting He thought to himself.
      Three days previously, he and Bradley had come to Reach for an intensive course. It would be another month before he finished his training; training that his brother had so rigorously put him through, where he'd learnt things he never knew possible. When he had finished boot camp in the corps he thought he couldn't get any fitter. But now his body was pure muscle, he could jog seven miles and barely break sweat and he could go for a week with only a few hours sleep.
      He had learned dozens of close combat styles, learnt how to accurately fire every single weapon that the UNSC had, as well as a few unofficial ones. He could fly an ONI Prowler at a third-rate level, as well as knowing how to strip and clean its minor parts. He had mastered the arts of intelligence gathering, assassination, stealth, and so many more techniques that would aid him in being a spook. That's what he was now, a spook. A figment of people's imagination. He didn't exist unless he wanted to. Here on Reach he would go through more intelligence-gathering training, as well as extensive fire-arms practice and a few more hours in the Prowlers. Then it was off to Mars, to the extreme-conditions facility on Chiron. There he'd be put through the environmental training; learning to run, fight and survive in all kinds of conditions, from freezing cold to boiling hot, zero-g to gravity twice the norm.
      Over the passed month or so, Manny had thought little of what he had left behind, but for some reason an image of Sarah popped into his head as he gazed at the far wall of the room. Her long brown hair, he button nose, her pouting lips. He felt his heart flutter at the image, but also felt a stab of pain at the length of time it had been since he last held her in his arms.
      His mind snapped back to reality. He now sat at the back of a large room, complete with a curved desk nearby, a domed ceiling overhead with cameras and recording equipment built in to make it look like a night sky. A spotlight had been on moments before, highlighting the Captain during his debriefing about what had happened on Sigma Octanus. Now there was just a dull light playing over the room, making it easier to see in the dark, but only marginally.
      The men and women sat round the table were some of the top brass. He looked at one of the men sitting nearby; Colonel Ackerson was his name. He was a smallish man, with a strong sense of arrogance and from the looks of things, he clearly didn't like Keyes one bit. Manny was surprised the Colonel hadn't flipped out completely at the way Keyes replied to their questioning. It was almost as if he was toying with them, playing a game at which they tried to play him. Manny knew one thing; he'd hate to have been the one in the middle of that room just then.
      He felt a hand rest on his shoulder and turned to Bradley.
      "You alright?" his brother asked, his voice sincere.
      "Yeah, why?"
      "You look a little shaken up." Manny was about to protest but Brad cut him short. "I know, I know. These interrogations can be tough to watch, but all agents have to sit through at least one ONI debrief. It just so happens this is one of the more important debriefs, so it's going to be a little tense and uncomfortable."
      Manny turned back to the men and women sat at the table, not saying a word. Bradley was right, he had to get used to it. After all, after a mission it would be him who would be in front of these people.
      The double-doors opened again and a new person walked into the room. As before, the spotlight snapped on and illuminated the figure as they walked towards the centre. Manny felt his heart race and his temperature rise as he recognised the man standing before him. It was Corporal Harland.
      So he was alive.
      He came to a stop several metres away from where Manny sat, casting his gaze over the people arrayed in front of him. Eerily, his eyes seemed to settle for a moment on Manny.
      "Don't worry," Bradley whispered "he can't see you."
That's not what had Manny shook up. The fact that one of his dearest friends was standing only a few metres away, thinking he was dead, and not being able to talk to him. That was why he was shaken. He knew what was to come from the men and women behind the huge oak desk. And all he could do was sit back and watch.
      "Corporal Harland," a female voice came. "you understand that withholding any information from us or being untruthful is a federal offence, and could lead to a court-martial, or worse you could be arrested on charges of treason?"
      The Corporal nodded, his face a pale white. "Yes, ma'am, I understand."
      "Good." Came a reply. There was a long pause then a shuffle of papers before someone spoke.
      "Tell us about what happened to you and your team," a deeper, male voice said "on July Eighteenth at approximately oh-six-hundred hours."
      "Well sir," Harland's voice was shaky, and Manny could easily see that his mind was bringing back the memories of the horror he had experienced. "We'd gotten orders from Lieutenant McCasky to set up sensors at grid thirteen by twenty-four. Alpha, Bravo and Echo squads left Fire-base Bravo at oh-four-hundred hours, and it took us two hours to get to the target area."
      Manny noticed sweat building up on Harland's neatly-shaven head, as well as patches appearing under his armpits. Either that light was hot, or Harland really had been shaken up.
      "When we got to the area, we were attacked by a unknown enemy..."
      "Unknown?" a voice interrupted.
      "Yes, sir," Harland replied quickly "It was something I've never seen before. Bigger than a Jackal, much bigger. It had a huge shield, as well as..."
      "Thank you, Corporal," another voice said "we know what it looks like. We do have the footage from your helmet-cam, remember?"
      There was a pause. Harland took in three breaths, and swallowed hard. "Luckily, Sergeant Raynes had moved Alpha squad back from the grotto where we..."
      "This grotto..." the first voice interjected again. "Did you notice anything strange at all?"
      "Well..." Harland thought for a moment. He was clearly shaken with all the interruptions. "We had literally crawled through thick mud to get to there, and it was not what I expected. There were symbols, tiny geometric carvings on the stepping stones that played across a water-pool."
      A generator hummed to life above and a 3D picture exploded into view in between the desk and Harland. It showed a still picture of the grotto Harland had just described. A square pointer zeroed in on one of the stepping stones.
      "Corporal Harland, do you have an idea as to what these markings mean or what they could possibly represent?"
      He shook his head. "No sir, I have no idea."
      "Do you think any of your team members may know?"
      There was a long pause.
      "Corporal, would you please answer the question," a third voice said.
      "Well, seeing as only four out of the thirty members of the platoon made it out alive, sir, I'd say no."
      "That's bordering on subordination, Corporal." The woman said. "Now, do you think that out of the four surviving members of your platoon that any of them could know what those symbols mean?"
      "No, ma'am, we haven't discussed it. And I don't think they would know either."
      "Thank you, Corporal. Now, regarding the Spartans you encountered. Did they discuss or speak to you about anything they encountered when they returned from the city with the civilians?"
      "No sir," he replied "in fact they barely said anything to us, other than that they were here to save the people of Sigma Octanus. When I questioned the Master Chief about how he got the civilians out of there, he simply said it was his mission."
      Manny heard a satisfying murmur from those around him. Had they gotten all they wanted from him, or was this going to carry on a little longer?
      "So in conclusion, Corporal," Colonel Ackerson piped up "you know nothing of this creature that attacked you, other than it had the ability to decimate a whole platoon of UNSC Marines, the symbols on the rocks mean nothing to you, and the Spartans aren't very talkative, is that right?"
      Harland seemed taken aback by this man's question.
      "Careful, Colonel." Manny heard someone whisper.
      "Yes, sir." Harland said, his voice trembling slightly.
      "There is one more thing, Corporal. On your report of the events that happened on Sigma Octanus, you listed Private Jon Manors as Missing In Action, that is correct?"
      Manny sat up straight at the mention of his name. Harland had put him as MIA? Why? Had he not been told?
      "Because when the casualty reports had been finalised, the body of Jon Manors had not been found. And I have not been informed otherwise, sir." There was a brief glimmer of hope in the man's eyes, the hope that they were going to tell him what had happened to Manny, what he had been doing these passed months.
      "Well if you're hoping for him to suddenly reappear out of nowhere, Corporal, you are sadly mistaken. Jon Manors is dead as dead can be. You're chasing ghosts."
      There was a pause and Manny watched as the news hit Harland. What little colour was left in his face drained completely, and his body seemed to go limp. It was like he had suddenly died inside, and all there was left was an empty shell of his former commander.
      "That will be all, Corporal." Ackerson finished. "Oh, and congratulations on your promotion to Sergeant."
Harland managed a weak smile, saluted and then turned and walked out through the double doors. Manny exhaled, not realising he had been holding his breath.
      "That was tough," Bradley said behind him. "Don't worry, he's harder than he looks."
Manny didn't say anything, he just sat staring at his feet.
      "You can be a real nasty piece of work sometimes, Ackerson." An older man chastised the Colonel. But he didn't seem to care, he was too busy talking with someone else. A few minutes passed and again the doors opened. But this time instead of another marine, or a Naval Captain, Manny found himself staring at what could only be a Spartan. And not just any Spartan, but the Spartan. The Master Chief. All remorse that Manny had felt about what had happened vanished, and he found himself hanging on every word that was said.




      Harland found himself walking in a daze back to his quarters. Fincher, Cochran, Walker and Sarah had all come with him to Reach, both as moral support as well as to get some rest and recuperation. Cochran had needed extensive therapy, and Sarah was also in need of Reach's high-tech medical facilities as her old injury had been aggravated.
      They had been put up in the military hotel that was a short flight away from Camp Hathcock. It was used exclusively by UNSC Marines for R and R, as well as shore-leave. He swiped his key over the lock and pushed his way into the 20th Floor flat. Over in the far corner of the living room sat Cochran and Sarah. Cochran had a slight smile on his face, but Sarah's eyes were puffy and red. They sat close to each other, and Cochran had his arm around her shoulders.
      "You guys okay?" Sarah looked up at him and nodded. Cochran nodded to him as well, a reassuring look on his face.
      "Hey, Sarge," a voice came from behind. He turned to see Fincher wrapped in a towel coming out of the bathroom. "How was the debriefing?"
      "It was tough." He said, nodding his head slightly. "I got some news as well. Where's Walker?"
      "He's down the gym." Cochran replied. "What is it? You don't look so hot."
      Harland cleared his throat. "Well, there's no point in holding back," he started. "Manny's dead."
There was silence for a while. Harland looked at Sarah, who sat staring straight ahead. Her face paled a little, but she did not cry. Cochran looked down at his feet, then up at the ceiling, then stood up and began to pace.
Harland turned around to look over at Fincher, but he wasn't there. He'd gone into his room.
      "Well, we sort of knew it was that way, didn't we?" Sarah murmured. "We knew he was dead, because if he was alive, he'd be here now, with us." She spoke in a very matter-of-fact way, not angry or bitter, showing no emotion. Just like how the others felt, no emotion. That's what war did to you, it drained all emotion out of you until you had none left and you became nothing more than a machine.
      But Harland did feel an emotion. He felt anger. In fact, it was more than anger, it was seething rage, for what he knew that they didn't, and what he would not tell, was that Manny was very much alive, and that he had seen him sitting in the corner when he was debriefed. They probably thought he hadn't seen him, but Harland had stared straight at him, and they proceeded to lie to his face.
      It was typical ONI bullshit and he hated it.

All Roads Lead To Sol...Epilogue
Date: 30 October 2004, 1:23 AM

Epilogue

2100 Hours, September 15, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Sydney, Australia, Earth

      Manny stepped out of the apartment onto the bustling street, hitting the close button as he did so. He took a deep breath, feeling the cold air fill his lungs and stared up at the cloudless sky. The stars twinkled overhead silently. It had been a long time since he had been alone like this, and it reminded him of his first journey back home since he joined the UNSC several years ago. Tall skyscrapers rose high into the sky, but not enough to block out the night.
      People strode passed him as he took in the scene, feeling a small sense of loss rise inside of him. The passed few months had been hectic, what with him completing his training. He had taken on two assignments since then; one to silence a Governor who was causing unrest in a nearby system, and the other was a surveillance job on Earth. He had finished the last assignment six days ago and had since been on a two-week break.
      Things were looking grim for humanity. Reach had fallen, and it was apparent that Earth was the Covenant's next target. It was just a matter of time before they got here.
      He turned to his left and started to stroll down the sidewalk, watching the world go by as he did. He was surprised they had given him leave; all it took was for someone to recognise him from outside ONI and his cover would be blown. Thankfully, this part of Sydney was devoid of any military personnel, it was mainly businessmen and state officials.
      He pulled out a cigarette, lit it and took a long drag on it. Being an ONI spook had meant given up such vices as smoking and this was the only chance he got since being enlisted in Naval Intelligence. The taste brought back both relaxing and haunting images as it had the passed few days, and his head swirled at the sudden rush of blood from the nicotine.
      His mind wasn't being kept busy with a mission or from reading intel and he often found himself thinking about what was going to happen with the war. It scared him a lot to think about the possibly extinction of his race. Passed battles replayed over in his head, the deaths of so many comrades, and in particular the thought of not seeing those that were still alive again. Harland, Fincher, Walker, and especially Sarah.
      Snap out of it, Jon he told himself. This gets you nowhere! He upped his pace a little, falling in with the steady speed of those around him. The noise of people moving and the sound of cars passing by filled his ears and took his mind off it all, but not for long. He was normally used to the dull hum of his Prowler's engines or the deathly silence that came with waiting for a target. The noisy street was a welcome respite from his usual, everyday life.
      He took another pull from his cigarette and exhaled slowly, letting the smoke drift up into the air. Everybody around him seemed so calm, at peace with themselves, not knowing what was happening out there, in the wide expanse of space. Soon this would be just another memory he would savour for when he was back in action.
      After he had walked for a solid ten minutes he stepped out off the street and into a bar he had frequented the passed two nights he had been in Sydney. It was a quiet place with a pretty Australian barmaid. She had taken a liking to him the first night, and he found himself going back again just for the company.
      It wasn't as busy as it had been last night, with a few patrons at the bar and a few small groups situated in booths along the walls. He walked over to an empty stool and sat down, placing his hands out on the bar in front of him. It wasn't long before Jenny, the barmaid, came over to him. She was slight and had a girlish look about her but there was a deep sense of maturity behind it. She smiled at him, a smile he had noticed that no other person in here received from her. She couldn't have been more than twenty-five, twenty-six at the oldest.
      "What will it be, Pete?" she asked in a mild Australian accent. Due to his involvement with ONI he had to use another identity for security purposes. He wasn't Lieutenant Jon Manors tonight, a member of the Office of Naval Intelligence. Tonight he was Peter Thornton, a deputy manager at Reading and Hadley, an American corporation that had an office here in Sydney. He was here on business.
      "A whiskey and soda please, Jenny." He gave her a polite smile. She nodded at him and turned around to fix his drink, allowing her gaze to linger on him. "Busy day?"
      "Yeah, another day at the office really." He chuckled to himself. If only that were true. "A lot of paperwork had to be done and I was the unlucky fool to do it."
      She turned back to him and placed his drink in front of him. He took a long sip of it, allowing the sharp tang of the spirit to flow down into his stomach.
      "Has it been busy in here?" he asked her before an awkward silence settled in.
      "Not as busy as I'd like, but enough to keep the money coming in." it was a lie of course. This, along with every other bar and restaurant in this part of town, was upper class and expensive and was never short of customers. And those customers were rich businessmen with money to waste.
      Jenny glanced to her left.
      "I've got people waiting, I'll come back later." She smiled at him again and strolled off down the other end of the bar.
      It had been a long time since he had felt a woman's touch. A very long time in fact. Even though he had been together with Sarah they had gotten little time to themselves, especially in the last year or so.
      He took another sip of his drink and relaxed back into the tall chair. The two men sitting near him were having a discussion about current events off-world. They seemed to be agreeing whole-heartedly that the Covenant would never come anywhere near here. One of them was adamant about the fact, something that Manny wished were true.
      "You okay, there?" he turned back to the bar and saw Jenny standing in front of him again.
      "Yeah, fine, just eavesdropping."
      "How's your brother?" she asked "Have you spoken to him at all?"
      Two nights ago she had enquired about his family, to which he had politely responded. But again he had to lie to preserve his identity. He had instead told her that his brother was a Marine in training. It couldn't have been further from the truth. At this point in time, Manny's brother was out somewhere gathering data on the Covenant fleet. It was a dangerous job, one he was glad had not come to him. But knowing his brother was doing it instead didn't make it any better than doing it himself.
      "No, not yet." He shuffled in his chair. "He must be real busy there. I couldn't think of anything worse."
      Jenny seemed taken aback by the statement. "You don't think fighting for the UNSC is a good cause?"
      That had been the wrong thing to say, Jon. Nice.
      "No, I mean the training. I hear its tough. I'd go myself but I'm just not that type of guy." He grinned at her, and was relieved to see her smile back.
      "What if they find Earth? Aren't you scared about what may happen to us?"
      "No, not really," he replied. "Whatever happens, happens, and there's nothing you or I can do about it."
      She stood there in silence for a moment, digesting his words.
      "I guess you're right. Why worry about something that's never going to happen?" she sighed and leant on one of the beer taps. Yet another disillusioned citizen of the UEG. He couldn't blame her though, or anyone else for that matter. So far Section 2 had done a good job keeping Reach's fall a secret, as well how badly the war effort was going.
      She came back to him a few times after that and made idle chat, asking about his mother and father and his upbringing. By closing time he had finished four whiskey and cokes and was feeling a little light headed. He sucked on an ice cube, watching the last person walk out the door. He had never stayed this late previous nights, but for some reason he had not wanted to leave this time.
Jenny came round the front of the bar and began clearing away empty drinks and peanut packets that were scattered around the table.
      As Manny got up to leave she came over to him and stood close to him. They stared at each other for a while before he broke the silence.
      "I'd....better be going." He gave her a weak smile. She went to say something, but stopped herself. Her face reddened slightly and a look of shy embarrassment washed over her. She stared down at her feet for a moment then looked back up at him.
      "Would you like to come up for a coffee?"
      Manny took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. The thought of them entangled with each other got his blood going, but something in his head said no.
      "I'd love to, really I would." He said, brushing his hand over her arm. "But I've got to be up early tomorrow for work. Another time, maybe?"
      Her face saddened a little, but she sill smiled back at him.
      "I understand." She stepped forward and kissed him lightly on the cheek. The touch of her lips sent a shiver down his spine.
      She pulled away from him, her face reddening even more.
      "I'll see you tomorrow night," he said and made for the door. As he pulled it open, she called back to him.
      "I'll look forward to it."
      He turned and looked at her, and it took every ounce of courage for him to smile at her and walk out through the door. The cool night air swirled around him and he took in a deep breath, exhaling sharply. He turned and started to walk back up to his apartment. The street was now virtually empty, with the odd passer-by here and there. The sky had clouded over ever so slightly, but not enough that he couldn't make out an orbiting space cruiser overhead.
      He passed by a block of flats and remembered a conversation he had with a man a few nights ago. They had sat next to each other in Jenny's bar and had chatted about politics and the government. Keith was his name, a nice enough man but a bit over eager. He had invited Manny up to his place for a game of cards with a few of his friends, had said that they played every other night for fun. Manny had declined, but now he needed to be with someone other than a beautiful barmaid. He stopped and turned back towards the entrance. The automatic doors opened when he neared them and he was welcomed by a blast of hot air, as well as a slightly mechanical voice asking him how he was.
      He walked up to the reception and got the attention of the young man seated behind it.
      "How may I help you sir?" the receptionist asked politely.
      "I'm here to see a friend." Manny replied, smiling broadly.
      "Do you know his name?" Shit. Manny thought. What was his last name? It rhymed with something, which he couldn't remember. Grain? Brain? Crane! That was it, Crane!
      "Keith Crane." He said after a moments pause.
      "Ah yes, Mr Crane is on the seventeenth floor. Number twenty-two. He has a few people with him already."
      "Yeah, one of his late night card sessions." Manny smiled and nodded at the man then walked over to the elevator and hit the "up" button. The panel above the doors indicated that the elevator had just gone up to level ten and was now coming back down. He put his hands in his pockets and whistled to himself. He glanced around at the foyer. It was mainly marble-tiled wall and floor, with some wood finish. A few pictures were scattered here and there, along with some plants.
      The lift chimed that it had reached the lobby and he turned and stepped through the opening doors.
      It was empty except for a female wearing what looked like a nightdress.
      Manny's breath hitched in his chest, and he felt his pulse quicken as his eyes settled on her. He noticed the same thing happen to her as well. Her darkly tanned skin seemed to pale slightly, and her dark brown eyes widened. Her face seemed to contort with different emotions; pain, anguish, happiness, anger. They stood there and stared at each other for a long time, not moving.
      He breathed in and out several times before he finally managed to speak. And when he did it was only two words.
      "Hello, Sarah."

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