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Day Four, Armor-haul, 001 DA
Dear Seeker,

At last I have time to write to you again.
If you should worry, Seeker(s), do not ponder much concern over my absence, the Queen, it seems, merely wished for a question or two. I do not speak ill of her in any way, but it is really quite nerve wrecking. However, the good news is that I was within my domicile in about two hours. The walk was a long one, down Aginas' streets. I have had a great deal of time to reflect on my actions, for this city is a wondrous place, a place that resets your whole view... on everything.
Quite simply, the streets are one of the safest places you could possibly be. Thanks to the Queen, we here, the inhabitants of Aginas- have a good life, and an almost carefree existence. Our city is once again reaching her former glory- possibly with the potential to surpass the old under the Queen's most legendary ability to... Do everything she does.
Her skills and adeptness with the magical and martial art Xava'Cordarite are beyond comparison.
Unfortunately for me, though, I was chosen to be her apprentice. How I wish we were one in the same, that she was Liadian, like me... a soulless wandering spirit, never quite knowing where you're going and unable to resist a calling to knowledge. Perhaps that is why I was chosen? Because I am one who has been for many millions, and will likely be for millions more. I have seen stars crumble. Perhaps... Again with the perhaps, it was because I was the greater in experience.
Somehow, I cannot see this as the case. She has existed for a mere seventeen and a half years, and already she has gained a greater knowledge than I could ever hope to posses. She left the strangest message today. I think it was written in black ink, but I could not be positive. I believe it to be a scroll of magical runes. Something about 'Passive Elementalist gating.' What this could mean, I do not know.
Another strange occurrence of the day; was that we had received various threats in scroll and ink format. The Imps brought them in at the crack of dawn, straight to Lower Guardian Firgast's post. He is a Nightgale of some merit, and would have no cause to disrupt his reputation. The Lower Guardian discarded these messages as worthless trash. Or rather he would have done so had the Queen not wished to see them for herself. Whence that cursed message touched her gauntlets, it began to flash. Had the letter possessed a sense of smell?
In any case, the runes scrawled out in some sort of a message, which now has her head over heels to locate the source. Afterward, the thing burst into flames and nearly turned me into a burning pyre, had it not been for the Queen I would not be a smoking husk!

Ugh, Seeker I trouble you too much with my life, as always. Perhaps tonight I will go to the Cryshal Lake Udan, or to the Eshma Gardens in Silvershadow Palace. Aginas, in all its beauty is never more beautiful than it is at nightfall. For within the cloak of night, can true beauty shine. On with our timbre tale, Comrades.

Thaydo Utas, Thane Ekire Alore,
-Maugrim Furyhammer, first Reaver to the Lady and Queen of Aginas

Flaming Ashes

"One minute!" Jason Shrieked.
One of Jason's crew chiefs gave Stacker a hand sign.
"One minute!" Sergeant Stacker Echoed.

Tactical Grid Sector Zeta Three, Outskirts of Facility 04

He could already see Cheesehood ensuring that his S2 AM Sniper Rifle was clamped to it's harness, the merry little marine happily ensuring his weapon wouldn't flip off, go ballistic and misfire. Smart.
Wooly prepared to jump, tensing his muscle so he could make a quick one and get to cover.
Immediately the Cheesehood's hand pushed him back. "Relax!" He shouted over incredibly loud engine drone. "We're gonna' hit, and when we do I don't want your neck snapping!"
He nodded. Everyone respected Cheesehood, and though he was a mere rookie like everyone else, he had a knowledgeable cut to him, one that could not be denied. People reckoned his advice like that of any Lieutenant or Squad Leader. Things between him and the rest were also pretty affectionate. He was always the first to get the girl, the first to volunteer for the suicide mission and the first choice for a CO. He always did what was right.
However, because of his fondness for cheese, and his very odd family name, all of his squad-mates called him 'Cheese-string' or 'Cheddar.'
"Oh mother of all that's holy don't fall out!" Jason, the pilot, called.
Just ahead, straight out of sweet November's foghorn a fuchsia colored T-framed drop ship slid into view. Its relatively weak, rapid fire belly-mounted plasma cannons had already started to scorch everything within their greedy little range of effective damage. What did that mean? A very unlucky CSaR Pelican!
Jason veered diagonal, intending to fly straight through the pods, but then again considering he wasn't flying a SkyHawk...
He figured his ship probably wouldn't fit, and even if it could there was still that minor issue of shrapnel from all those vehicles stuck in between the enemy ship's gravity beams.
"We're all going to die!" Somebody cried.
Damn, this was might very well hill him, but he had to try, had to try and save everyone.
"Raaaaggghh!"

KA- WHAM!

Shhhrreeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaa

Each tiny fraction of an impact jarred him back and fourth, cut his nerves and shattered his bones. Each little feeling felt like he was being hit by six million fifty cal. Bullets per second. And his stomach... that was crawling out of him. Alive, eating as if it was gangrenous!
From what little he could see before he lost control, the Covenant vessel had sheared the Pelican's roof clean off. Both of them were looking to land in the same place. It was his co-pilot that saved him. Acting quickly and surely to both experience and training, Timothy Gauss set their ship to auto landing. Being much more resistant to motion sickness and such other ilk than Jason, he was able to keep an eye on various activities. He knew that Jason's initial intention had succeeded- more so than was expected.
The Covenant ship impacted the Pelican pretty hard, its sleek, almost blade-like hull combined with a greater mass causing it to cut the roof of the hold off, but this also sent it careening into certain death. Luckily, that death was another Covenant drop ship. They'd pretty much body-slammed each other, their U prongs clashing like swords and refusing to give. The end result was simple. Boom.
"Hey, marines!" Timothy queried, concerned. "You alright back there!"

"We're good!" Cheesehood replied just as the Pelican glided to a stop, its hatch opening on reflex.
Wooly grunted; shaking what vertigo he could off of his currently 'slumbering' brain.

Jason's co-pilot, Timothy, was currently notifying every possible power-that-be of all recent happenings, which needless to say, were pretty grim. "Pillar twenty one is down, I repeat, Pillar Twenty one is down!"
Wooly heard PTB reply too. "All units be notified, Pillar twenty one is down, say again, all units be notified that Pillar twenty one has been forced to land."
Seconds, which seemed akin to minutes- passed before another trans.
"Pillar twenty one be advised, reinforcements are already en-route. Pull your asses into cover and await First Recon."
"Why the hell can't D'crose's squad scramble! They're closer!"
"They're occupied, you have your orders, now move!"
Timothy punched the Pelican's Dash. They were stuck here.
Angered beyond belief, he looked at the bloodied space where Jason should have been.
"We've got a KIA- "We need a map!" -Lance Corporal Jason Sins." He spoke into the Radio, then looked to a machine called a Cartographer. Its screen was blank.
"No can't do Marine, whole electronic system is fried after impact, radio only works because it's got its own power source." He tried to stay calm, pulling an M6D.

Wooly shook his head, cursing silently. No map meant blindness, and blindness meant death. Most often the side with the best intelligence won through. Which in turn meant somebody would have to do some looking into bad corners.
"No map, sir!"
Stacker wasted no time. "Alright Marines, Battle Teams of two, secure this Pelican, Fire Team leaders, go find me some cover!"
Everyone paired up instantaneously, and sprinted from the Pelican's bay, leapfrogging it to various locations while shouting helpful info.
One man would move forward a few steps, find some form of cover, and then the other man would move forward, find cover, and the process would repeat itself. There was always someone to cover the other.
Wooly could swear he kept hearing voices, but he knew they were his fellows.
"Ridge over here, ninety degrees Pelican hatch's right just by the river bed!"
"River runs deep, delays until a bush!"
"Damn man, Facility Four is over two kilometers away!" That was Cheesehood.
"Stow it, Marine!" Fred had just called.
"Ridgeline over here, looks like we can climb!"
The Spartan calmly walked to stand shoulder with Wooly, its imposing, very much inhuman figure dominating everything in their little locale.
"Lets go." His calm, leveled and reassuring voice graced. Who was Private Wooly to deny? He started off at a light jog, and was rather amazed to see that the Spartan was matching his jog, and was walking rather slowly. Wooly started to jog faster, as fast as he could. The Spartan was still walking.
"Cover." The Spartan said out of the blue, almost causing him to trip. He managed to make it out as a roll, and slid up into a crouch. The Spartan now moved, and reached his destination in a rough two seconds. He'd been walking.
Wooly started to move. He didn't like their present situation. Dawn was already in progress. Sunlight just started to peak over the tree line, and they were stuck here between a ridge, a bush with a river leading into it from the Pelican, and an imposing dirt road.
It seemed as if there were a few hills mixed in too.
Dropping prone, the presently dull-hearted marine surveyed his angles. His MA5B's safety was still on, but just for added caution, he kept his trigger-finger on his rifle's guard.
The Spartan jogged up to the side of the road, and rolled behind a rock. His hand angled to the road, then a finger pointed. He slid an outstretched hand along his helmet. Wooly gave him a thumb up, and started to chat into his radio.
"Roadway up ahead, we might be able to knock on their front door with a loud bang." He said.
"That wouldn't be a morally correct idea, Wooly." Cheesehood commented. "You've got two Fire Teams just ahead of you, about five Grunts, two Jackals, and an Elite. The other two... look like Hunters."
His stomach lurched. "How in god's name do we get passed them...?"
Turning to the Spartan, Wooly mouthed the word "Hunters."
The Spartan gripped his rim-like helmet protrusion, a meaning akin to 'I see.'
"Heads up people, we've got Covenant coming in on the river." Fred croaked.
Wooly quietly arose, and scuttled for a better position. The Spartan followed. "This is Alza Two Twenty Four, I recommend we retreat to the ridge. If we rig a web up now, we might be able to make it before they get here and catch them off guard with an ambush."
"Suggestion noted, Spartan Two, Two Four." Stacker quipped.
"Understood sir."
"Alright Spartan, let's go!"
The massive warrior nodded, and clutched his rifle to his chest. The two ran, or rather Alza jogged, Wooly ran. Wooly was never very good at running, but the Spartan kept pace, staying at his side as if they were best friends. Wooly liked to think the Spartan knew that everyone was going to be fine. He leapt over a slight drop only to trip on some random rock. He would have fallen if not for Alza-224, who'd caught the back of his pack, just in time; and dropped him a few paces ahead.
He assumed the others had seen them, because as soon as they appeared on a hill overlooking Jason Sins' Pelican, they broke full sprint toward the riverbed.
Wooly could hear the Splashes of their feet as they impacted the water, sending ripples in every direction. Trees swayed back and forth in harmonious ritual, the sun had broken mid-sky and risen high-point. Already the area was bathed in white light. Visibility was perfect... for both sides.
"Sir we can't be this far out, we have to stay close to the Pelican!" Cheesehood protested through comm.
"Triggers down men, triggers down!"
Wooly heard what was obviously the leader of the enemy patrol say something too.
"Xifhs gsvn!"
Very much unlike a Spartan, Alza muttered thus through comm. "Marines, he just told his little bitches to 'crush them.' I'll tell you what."
Stacker shouted. "Take Cover!"
The Squad, which had already been spread and in pretty safe locations to begin with, tried to find something, called 'actual cover.'
"WE will form a giant can opener..." Alza-224 continued as two green streaks of plasma shot passed him. Wooly snapped off two shots as tracers, and followed through with about half a clip to nail a single grunt. "Save your ammo, marine!" Stacker berated him.
Blue jolts seared the air and started burning into one of the marine's shoulders. Stacker wasted no time in dragging the wounded man behind a large boulder and smacking the smoldering piece of titanium away with the butt of his MA5B.
"Three round burst!" He choked off through immense heat.
His squad followed directions to the precise second.
The Spartan pulled back the MA5B's slide, causing a clearly audible snap. "And we will open..."
"Dear God help me!" The wounded marine shrieked rather girlishly.
"A giant can of whup-ass."
His speed was unbelievable! The Spartan shot across the center of the dirt road, which was now turning into a glass road like something out of a fantasy tale, and opened fire with reckless abandon. Several gobs of plasma seemed to be aimed directly in his path, but nothing seemed to hit. How fast was he moving?

Alza himself knew exactly what he was doing. Two Jackals stood shoulder to shoulder as the maddened Spartan strafed them. Perfect...
As the last of his shield strength started to dissipate, he banked a Fragmentation Grenade off of a tree, and made a diving roll for the other side of the road, and the boulder that would save his life.
Seeing the grenade, both Jackals naturally leapt aside in equally graceful rolls.
Damn! He shouldn't have been so stupid! What a waste of Grenade...
Only both Jackals had moved directly into the lines of sight of two sniper teams, Cheesehood and his spotter, Drake, along with two very talented women named Claire and Alexia.
Just before the mission had actually started they'd received personnel replacements. Cheesehood and Drake were formerly the best, but ever since their companions had been bedridden due to some influenza that hadn't been detected by the bio scanners. They had two equals to contend with.
"Fire!"
Alexia and Cheesehood seemed to have fired at the same time, however Cheesehood seemed to have a bit of a faster trigger finger. His target flew back a few feet, landing it behind its Covenant brothers-in-arms. Amazingly enough, it got up with a graze and started looking around. Alexia's merely flipped aside by freak chance, the Shrapnel from the Spartan's grenade striking its shield and sending it sprawling.
Seeing there were snipers about, all three Covenant Fire Teams ducked out and away, behind rocks, into hastily dug trenches from a battle two hours previous, and even into trees.
"Covering fire!"
The Marines, in one group of five, (Stacker with them) had already started moving up the path and into better positions of attack. They now had fire superiority, and it was rather stupid not to exploit it. Occasionally the Covenant would stick its head out to fire only to have it blown off by Cheesehood or Alexia.
"You lousy bastards!" Chips cried aloud. "You're all gonna' die!"
He was known for overly dramatic battle cries. Despite their overbearing manner they always seemed to brighten hearts.
"Watch the one to your left Wooly!" Somebody warned.
"Reloading!"
"Wait a second where the hell is the elite!" Fred piped fearfully.
Wooly watched the Jackals raise themselves with shields at just the right angle. The little beasts started to lay down suppressing fire whilst their very capable grunt companions spread into semi-circle formations and started a crossfire. Essentially they were firing in a giant X which brought their weapons to bear on everyone.
"Rounds low!" Stacker fumbled, attempting to reload his MA5B.
"I need covering fire over here!"

"Flanking squad in position, hauling ass!"
Stacker fell dead with multiple holes burned clean through him; armor and all helped cauterize his wounds. Somebody tripped over Stacker's armor and screamed in agony as his foot started melting off.
"Stupid bastards!" Cheesehood skipped. "Find fucking cover or I kick your ass myself!"
One of the doomed marines started to drag their wounded companion into the bushes.
As if he'd yanked them out of some long dream, they pulled aside and lay in prone positions. But it was already too late. The forest was writhed in flames- the immense heat already starting to blister their flesh.
Wooly was crying, and unable to scream. He watched as Fred started to swallow some of the heat, could almost feel his friend's lungs burning apart. This was what war was like?
"Fall back!" The reassuring, angelic bulk of Alza-224 appeared.
Spartans were like a godsend, those holy saviors that made everything all right again, those few that the Covenant simply couldn't stand against. Wooly felt Alza's hand circle his back armor plate and push him into the river. The Spartan started to do it with every body, living or dead.
"You like that!" Called one of the former flanking members.
"Make 'em count!"
"I've got the ugly bastards, they're hiding in the smoke just across those two rocks!"
By now the insistent roar of multicolored flames was drowning out almost every sound there was, greedy tongues gobbling up grass, trees, animals even. The putrid stench of decaying flesh was unbearable.

"I can't breathe!"
"Pull back!" Cheesehood insisted.
Alexia, Drake and Claire had all taken up Sniper Rifles, and systematically started taking down any Covenant pursuers. Where one shot failed three more would follow. Where one Covenant dropped with a 'One Shot' kill two or three others followed it into the abyss.
They were fighting a losing battle in a raging inferno. The instant one single Covenant had fired his plasma-based weapon, it had caused a chain reaction, lighting the forest aflame with ease. Those flames too, had spread quickly.
"They're retreating!" The Flank squad, which was now a mere blocking force for the retreat, dove into the riverbed and started rolling around, uncaring whether or not their weapons were being damaged. They had to get the heat off!
Alexia started coughing. "We should head away Cheddar, can't see much and I'm starting to feel like I'm getting the worst of- she coughed -second hand smoke!"
Alza shifted out of the flaming undergrowth, various branches and leaves clinging to him in last ditch efforts to survive. Indeed, they numbered many, so much so that the Spartan looked like the giant pillar of Christmas Eve, or some otherworld being.
"Where is the First Recon?" He spoke toward Alexia.
"What the hell happened to the elite?" She questioned in return.
"It's dead!"
Both dove into the riverbed at the exact same time, the Mjolnir-clad Spartan creating a tremendous splash. Water had submerged them both, and not a second too late the flames erupted over them, soaring like great geysers of dooming winds. Under the water, the world was airless and safe, yet still deadly, given enough time. Above its surface, the world was sure death. To be consumed in flames that turned everything to glass, so hot did the unnatural kiln burn!
Alza pulled the breathless sniper along with one hand as he scaled his way to the opposite end of their tunnel of hope.

Wooly looked on in disbelief, his torn clothing, raw, burned, and blistered body of little matter to him at this moment. What in all hells had happened back there? A good deal away Timothy, the former Pelican's pilot, was shouting to his heart's content with the powers-that-be.
"We've got wounded, we need a fucking ride out of this shit-hole before we have even more KIA on our hands!"
"No need to worry, help is already on the way." JOC replied emotionlessly.
"The First Recon's gone!"
Cheesehood shook his head kicked the radio into tiny pieces.
"What the hell are you doing!" Timothy wavered hysterically, on the verge of tears.
"Look east." The sniper said simply.
Wooly watched the two guys standing by the riverbed, waiting for Alza, Alexia and Drake to surface. Cheesehood joined him shortly afterward. Smoke seemed to be winding its steady path down towards them. Wooly knew his eyes were stinging from it, knew his lungs were filled with it. But he didn't care. The Spartan had saved his life in that firefight more times than he could count. The skirmish itself had been disastrous. Seven good marines for what, a confirmed five Grunts and maybe a Jackal?
Hell, they'd even managed to lose Sargent Stacker.
He looked to his left, watching what seemed like a perfectly fine tree, its oaken branches spreading like some black widow's web.
"On the path, Pelicans to the east coming in hard!"
"We know." Cheesehood replied reservedly.
Much to his disgust, the Sniper started to inspect his wounds, feeling each little crag, trying to replace every patch of skin and sterilize each cut with what little medical supply he had left.
He was half way through jamming a stitch into his arm when two figures surfaced. The gasping form of Alexia, trying feebly to breathe as coughs raked her form, and Alza-224, his black armor now tinged with flecks of silver.
Immediately Cheesehood finished his stitch-job and rushed over to Alexia, who Alza had gently laid face down on the ground. Wooly noted his words. "Listen to me! Cough the rest of that shit out of your lungs and don't stop coughing. You pause and you're dead you hear me marine?"
He grasped her waist with both arms and pushed somewhere near her stomach, which had obviously caused Alexia to start vomiting. Not very safe, but the woman probably couldn't breath anyway.
Wooly tried to shake off what pain he could, stopping his futile maneuvers when Alza appeared out of thing air in front of him, smearing a one centimeter thick clot of ash off his visor.
"Alright, whoever's still combat able, move your asses and secure a perimeter, we don't need another dead soldier. Your ride out of here is mere meters away."
"Yes sir!" A few acknowledged the Spartan.
He strode up to Cheesehood. "Those Covenant up the path might decide to attack. We need to hunker down until that D-ship arrives."
The Sniper nodded, and Alza continued on. "I'm thinking one minute till it gets here."
"What about Claire and Drake?" Cheesehood mouthed.
"They're gone." Alza replied quietly. "Either the flames or the Covenant, but they're gone."
Wooly shook his head. He'd have to endure this for how many more years? The resilience of everyone else amazed him. Cheesehood had made it without a scratch. Only now to wait for the-
"Pelican coming down!" All in a few minutes, several dead marines. It was just as the Pelican was landing that he realized they'd left the bodies in the fire. Tags in all. There would be no burial for them. His heart wouldn't let this go for a long, long time. -
"Veers? We don't know no fuckin' Captain Veers!"
"Who the hell are you!"
"ONI Spook division, Casper team; at your service."
Cheesehood cut right to the point. "We need a ride out fleet-side, we've got wounded."
Two black clad... No two shadows- leapt out of the Pelican.
One of the more battle-ready marines attempted to climb aboard, when something stopped him short. Was that an M90 leveled on his heart?
"Wounded first, shit-head." The air chaffed him.
He turned, and helped load his companions. Wooly watched Cheesehood and Alza load Alexia, (who was on a stretcher) into the Pelican's recesses. They brought Wooly after that.
"Before you go, drop your hog off, I'm going to go see if I can save some of your... friends."
One of the Shadows nodded, and disengaged the Warthog's clamps. The UEG light recon vehicle slid off and landed with a thud. Wooly blinked as the ship's engines powered up. The hatch started sliding shut...
"I'll make sure you get there safely." One of the spooks had climbed aboard and taken up Gunner's position. Cloak disengaged, he was just like any normal man. Only he was wearing an elite's armor and a modified helmet that looked like a gorilla's head.
His entire apparatus was a sage variation. Shielding for your average grunt... These guys had it.
Where was-
He watched Cheesehood take up Driver's position, silent, and full of determination.
Alza climbed aboard and rested in the final seat, riding shotgun with an M90.
Right before the Pelican's hatch closed completely, he heard Alza's final call.
"Punch it."

They were going back in to save others. Which was of course, a suicide mission. Each on of them knew it. Wooly could picture the Warthog zooming down the road to Facility Four; its courageous operators standing proudly, in epic proportions forever emblazoned on history's template.

Through blurry eyes, Alexia watched as his first tear splashed on the deck.

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