Halo: Reborn

PROLOGUE

1300 Hours, February 12, 2558 (Military Calendar) / Epoloch System, Forerunner shield world Requiem, Installation 0001, UNSC Research Station 09

Heaps of earth were being thrown into the air. The landscape was painted in a purple and blue hue by incoming plasma mortars, sending thousands of small searing hot particles of dirt flying into Will's visor as they exploded just yards away. He crouched behind a UNSC barricade next to a cowering marine, only about half his size, who had his face near the ground and his gloved hands covering the back of his head. He had lost his helmet in the mad dash for cover and wasn't about to go back for it.

Will was beginning to wonder if this outpost was even worth the trouble they were going through to keep it. His orders had been to stop the attack on Research Station 09 and keep its data from falling into enemy hands, but he had a feeling that that wasn't actually what they were after. This new "Storm Covenant" was not at all the same Covenant he had remembered fighting during the war. The Covenant had been a vast army possessing a wide assortment of different alien species within its ranks, all united under a belief in a "Great Journey," much like this new Covenant, but the difference was, the original had been much more brutal, thorough, with only one thing on their minds: extermination of the human race.

Humanity had gone to great lengths, and made unspeakable sacrifices to keep the location of Earth a secret during those years of Hell. Even to the point of destroying their own ships if it came to it, which wasn't uncommon. This "Storm Covenant," however, seemed largely unconcerned with things pertaining to humans, and had even been known to work with Covenant-sympathizers in the past- something that would have been considered heresy by the original Covenant hierarchs, as many things were. No, they weren't here to steal human research. They were here to spread UNSC forces thin across Requiem. To distract the Infinity from what they were really after. What that could be, Will had no idea, nor did he know how to find out.

Regardless of why they were there, he was there too now, and he had orders to carry out. He looked around at the few remaining marines left to hold the position. Several bodies were strewn over the battlefield, most of them charred and disfigured, killed trying to fall back to the last holdout next to the research facility. He reached down and touched the shoulder of the marine next to him. "We can't stay here."

The marine finally looked up at his ally upon hearing a deep raspy voice come from under that helmet. It was the first time he had spoken a word since he had arrived.

  The marine opened his mouth to say something as well but was interrupted, flinching as another mortar landed near their position.

  A bloodcurdling scream could be heard as one of the other marines who had taken cover was hit by the blast.

  The plasma mortars were coming from a Covenant wraith tank steadily advancing toward the research station where they sat, accompanied by a small Covenant patrol comprising several grunts. "Grunts" had been a long-used human nickname for the short, scaly, and methane-breathing creatures known as unggoy. They served as pawns and cannon fodder for the Covenant. With them were a few jackals, or more precisely, kig-yar, which were bird-like, skinny, and clumsy -but fast- creatures, most of which wielded an arm-mounted energy shield and sidearm, good at fighting defensively. And finally, two sangheili, or so appropriately nicknamed by the UNSC "elites." Elites were large, agile, and proud creatures, typically seen leading troops into battle- great at inspiring courage in their allies and fear in their enemies.

  Will, on the other hand, was a Spartan, clad in standard-issue gray MJOLNIR Gen 2 armor. Spartans were often fabled among the ranks of the UNSC as unbeatable super soldiers. Mysterious and even frightening, but they were just as mysterious to the Covenant as they were to the marines that served under them. Grunts were often seen cowering in fear at the mere sight of them, jackals refused to come close to them, and if an elite was killed in the encounter, the creatures that had listened to their every command would immediately scatter in terror. Elites didn't fear humans, but they did fear Spartans.