Avalon of Azarath

05:30, UNSC Frigate ‘Forward Unto Dawn’
November 17th, 2552 //Military Calendar
Gunnery Sergeant Richard Sierzega mission clock

Security on board the UNSC Frigate Forward Unto Dawn had been two fold ever since the Covenant cruiser dropped out of slipspace. It had been danger close, and in the middle of the battle raging above earth, a new contact was never a good thing, but it had come bearing Commander Miranda Keyes, and Sergeant Major Avery Johnson, along with several marines, and new allies. The ship had docked with Cairo station not long after, and Fleet Admiral Sir Terrance Hood had come aboard. Richard had been assigned his security detail. Normally the ODST would have balked at such lowly duty, but the sniper knew that Lord Hood was the de facto leader of the Home Fleet and there were chances that the Dawn was to see an extend mission away from the battle.

However, that was not the reason the admiral needed the security. The reason he needed his security, was be cause there were several elites aboard, so-called allies of Keyes and Johnson. The Arbiter, that was all they called him. Nothing more, nothing less, and even Johnson referred to him as such. One had to wonder at what had happened after the In Amber Clad had followed the Covenant Assault Carrier in to slipspace over New Mombasa.

So here he stood, sniper rifle slung over his shoulder, hand resting on his sidearm, a newer M6G pistol. It combined the best of both the M6C sidearm and the M6D Personal Defense Weapon System. Across from both him and Lord Hood stood the Arbiter and another one of his lackeys, this one clad in white armor, missing his two left mandibles, less split lip than his comrade, but still a split lip none the less. In the middle of it all were Keyes, Johnson, and 343 Guilty Spark, a glowing blue orb, who, for the most part seemed to be there just to annoy everyone, chattering on about protocol and reclaimers. The group was talking, and for the most part, Lord Hood seemed unwilling to accept so easily the help of those who had just days earlier had been slaughtering every human they could.

“Commander, you can’t be serious.” Hood said, ignoring the sneer that he was given from both the Elites. Hood didn’t care, and wasn’t inclined to. Keyes looked outraged, but kept her cool otherwise.

“Admiral, I know it’s hard, but the Elites saved me and everyone else who survived from the In Amber Clad. Without them we wouldn’t be here talking with you.”

“Commander. I understand that, but quite frankly, I don’t give a damn. They are the enemy, and the only reason I allowed this to go on was because of your father.” he said coldly. That was low, it hadn’t been that long since the original Halo incident, and Keyes had lost her father to it. In fact the entire crew of the Pillar of Autumn had been lost, everyone except Sergeant Johnson, Cortana, the ships artificial intelligence and the Master Chief, one of the few remaining Spartan-IIs. The commander looked at him shocked.

“Now,” he said, addressing the two elites, “get off my ship.” he finished. The Elites sad nothing and turned and left, they themselves being escorted by a few marines. Hood stood and looked at the Commander.

“Commander, I’ll find you a ship later, right now we need to get back to the fight, more Covenant ships keep coming. Sergeant, I’m transferring you to command this ships marine company. Dismissed, both of you.” he said, turning to leave, Johnson smartly saluted, and left the room. The Commander stood there for a moment. Hood stopped.

“I was out of line commander, I’m sorry.” he said, before leaving, Richard saluting as he passed. The Commander eyed him then left from the opposite door, leaving him standing there. He sighed shaking his head going back to his post, stowing his rifle.

Hood walked on to the bridge of the Dawn, not too happy, with himself, nor the entire situation.

“Sir! The unknown target, it’s descending toward Earth, Cairo Station projects a landing site in the Voi area of southeast Africa.” the sensors officer reported, turning to look at the admiral.

“Spartan 117?” he asked.

“Lost his IDF about 5 minutes ago.” he reported.

“Get Commander Keyes down here. I have a new job for her.” he said.

08:23, UNSC base codenamed ‘Crows Nest’
November 17th, 2552 //Military calendar;
Gunnery Sergeant Richard Sierzega mission clock

Commander Keyes stalked into the base’s command center, unhappy. She was a naval officer, commanding a ground installation. It just wasn’t right. In front of her stood several marines, including Sergeant Major Avery Johnson, and Gunnery Sergeant Richard Sierzega, currently dressed in standard marine armor instead of his normal ODST body suit. She stopped a few feet from them, and observed them for a moment.

“The mission is simple, find the Master Chief, bring him back, alive.” she said. “Dismissed.” she then added. The two Sergeants saluted and led their marines through the base, one built in the side of a mountain in efforts to keep it hidden. Down through several corridors, past two giant air shafts was the hangar bay, where two D77-TCI ‘Pelican’ dropships were waiting. Not only that, but the Arbiter was there as well, in two hours something had changed. The marines piled in and the dropships left the base, headed for the Master Chief’s landing site.

08: 45, Voi jungle, Africa.
November 17th, 2552 //Military calender;
Gunnery Sergeant Richard SIerzega mission clock

The marines of first and second squad moved into the clearing quiet, Richard and Johnson at the back, Johnson took a cigar out and lit it. The marines fanned out, checking the clearing.

“This ain’t good.” one marine commented, the Master Chief was laying in the middle of the clearing, motionless.

“Damn. How far did he fall?” another asked. Johnson took a drag on his cigar.

“Two kilometers, easy.” Richard said, Johnson blew out the smoke from his cigar.

“Stay sharp.” he ordered, the marines automatically taking positions around the Chief. Richard moved up, letting his MA5C Assault Rifle rest on the ground, pulling out a small computer. He sighed, looking at the readouts. His armor wasn’t even singed or scratched, except for one large gash on the chest plate.

“Richard?” the Sergeant Major addressed him.

“His armor’s locked up. Gel layer could have taken most of the impact.” he said, tapping a few controls. The armor hissed, and unlocked, releasing the Chief from his odd position. He held the computer close to him, checking for vital signs.

“I don’t know Avery.” he said. Johnson knelt next the Chief, hand on his chest for a moment. He sighed sadly then reached behind the Chief’s head and pulled the empty data chip from his head.

“Radio for VTOL, heavy lift gear. We are not leaving him here.” he said. Richard moved back, the Chief reaching up and grabbing Johnson’s arm.

“Yeah. You’re not.” he said, pushing himself to his feet.

“Crazy fool! Why do you always jump? One of these days, you’re gonna land on something a s stubborn as you are! And I don’t do bits and pieces!” Johnson said. The Chief was silent, taking the data chip from Johnson.

“Where is she Chief? Where’s Cortana?” he asked. The Chief was quiet, reflecting.

“She stayed behind.” he said finally, inserting the chip back into his helmet. Johnson nodded.

“Make it quick Rich.” he said, gesturing to the other Sergeant. Richard nodded, tapping something on his computer. It showed a red light.

“Look up here sir.” he said. It turned green. He tapped something.

“Ok. Now down here.” he said, the light red again. It turned green as the Chief looked at it.

“Good.” he said, turning to Johnson.

“Everything checks out, Avery.” he said.

“Take of the training wheels. He’s good to go.” he said. The Chief looked around, ever alert. He stopped, something seeming off. A faint shimmer, like those given off by the Covenant’s active camouflage generators. Johnson nodded to it and the Arbiter de-cloaked. The Chief moved lightning quick, pushing Johnson aside, drawing his pistol in one movement.

“Chief, wait!” he said. The Chief already had the gun jammed between the Arbiter’s mandibles.

“The Arbiter’s with us!” he added. The Arbiter stood, waiting, showing no signs of discomfort, the Chief hesitated.

“Come on now.” Johnson coaxed, grabbing the Chiefs shoulder.

“We got enough to worry about without you two tryin’ to kill each other.” he said, the Spartan lowering his gun. The Arbiter clicked his mandibles together: a shrug.

“Were it so easy.” he said. He turned, and walked away.

“We must go. The Brutes have our scent.” he informed them.

“Then they must love the smell of bad ass.” Johnson quipped, grabbing an Assault rifle from a nearby marine, handing it to the Chief. The Chief accepted it, checking it’s ammo, preparing to move out.

Avalon of Azarath

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Halo: ODST Dramatis Personae