Halo: Conflicts

Chapter 1: On The Verge

August 17, 2552
Planet Reach
2145 hours
     
Commander John-A222 sits passenger across from Josh-A124 and Adam-B226 on a Falcon, fleeing the burning city of Quezon. Soft red and blue light pulses forward from the plasma beams of orbiting Covenant ships. From an adjacent Falcon, a blue armored Spartan, Timothy-A130, comms, "What now?" John looks out into the growing darkness. It is silent for a moment against the constant beating of the Falcon's propellers. "With Manassas and Quezon gone, we will likely be sent to Esztergom or New Alexandria... wherever we're needed." The orange-clad Adam-B226 sits his arms across his lap. "Damn, I still can't believe Noble took out that supercarrier..." The Commander interrupts. "We're Spartans. We do the extraordinary, but now there is this Covenant fleet to deal with." Josh-A124, cradling his sniper rifle, looks up. "Can our ships take them, sir?" John leans back. They are in darkness now, flying over the wilderness in the silent night. "I'm not sure. The Epsilon Eridani Fleet is strong but..." His voice trails off. "They're about to hit them with everything." The other Spartans nod in understanding. From the other Falcon, Tyler-B037 speaks. "It's a shame... All that we've lost to these monsters." He looks over. "We still haven't heard anything of 052 and B312." Silence follows his statement. Adam shifts uneasily as John says silently, "We're all due." The Falcons slowly ease towards the ground.
    
They have arrived at a small firebase, serving as a makeshift base of operations. The outpost is dark and silent in an effort to avoid attracting hostile attention. The Falcons touch down and their payload of Spartans dismount. Carrying their weapons, they casually enter the base. Most of the Spartans turn down a hallway to have their armor removed, except for John-A222. He moves to the base's command center, where several officers are studying communication feeds, deployment simulations, and visuals from Quezon and the Epsilon Eridani Fleet. As the Spartan enters, several of the officers look up and nod. One of the officers, Colonel Alfred J. Pujolz straightens and walks over to John. The Spartan salutes and asks, "What is the status of the fleet, sir?" The officer manages a smile but the sorrows of war are apparent in his eyes. "Everything is prepped, Commander. The last few ships have arrived. They engage at 0500." The Spartan nods, nearly a foot taller than Colonel Pujolz. The Colonel walks over to a holoprojection showing Covenant deployment patterns. The soft blue light gleams on A222's visor. "Commander, your team is heading to New Alexandria in a few hours.... I suggest you get some rest. John stands quietly for a moment, studying the projection. "Sir." He salutes as the Colonel responds. "Dismissed."
    
John-A222 walks down the shadowy halls. As he passes their bunks, Adam, Timothy, and Josh approach him. They are only in undersuits now, anticipating his return. "John... Anything new?" Adam asks. The Commander looks at each of them. "We spend the day in New Alexandria tomorrow. Get what rest you can." They nod and step aside as the Commander continues forward. They watch for a moment and then enter their bunks. John turns and walks into the base armory. He sets his weapons aside and nods to the group of technicians that await him. Upon stepping onto a platform, mechanical arms and machines begin to hum to life. John extends his arms as the technicians approach, helping to guide the machines. His chestplate and forearms are slowly removed. John remains silent and still as a machine descends from above. He straightens as his recon helmet is lifted from his head.