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The Defense of Earth by Steele



The Defense of Earth 1: The 889th Tactical Fighter Wing
Date: 15 March 2003, 10:39 PM

The 889th Tactical Fighter Wing

0500 Hours, October 14, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Widower, Earth local space

Commander Rick "Einstein" Mitchell stormed into the briefing room, a dispatch clutched tightly in his fist. He heard the barked "Atten-shun," from one of his officers and turned around, his face a grim mask. "As you were," he snapped, the stress starting to boil out.
When the pilots sat back down he continued. "Two hours ago a Covenant Armada arrived in system and massed near Mars. They destroyed the outpost stationed there." He let that sink and watched the shock dawn on many of the pilot's faces. Before they could start asking questions he said, "I know you have questions and concerns, but for now we have a mission.
"Their armada consists of over a thousand ships; most being destroyers and cruisers. But there are a few troopships along with a few carriers. As you know, these vessels carry enough Covenant to completely invade three Earths. To underestimate the situation, if those ships reach Earth Orbit and drop their loads, we're fucked.
"The Covenant capital ships won't be too much of a problem since are ships numbers are about twice of theirs, not including the 200 new Battleships we have. Anyway, our mission will be to wait near Earth and take out the Troopships when they arrive. Gentleman, the Covenant is getting predictable. ONI believes the main Covenant fleet will engage our fleet somewhere near Mars.
"And, while their distracted doing that, the Troopships will execute a pinpoint slipstream jump and arrive right on top of Earth. We'll be waiting for them. While the Super MAC cannons could handle the majority of them we're gonna make sure none of those freaks hit orbit.
"The 909th Tactical Interceptor Wing will assist us. Other than that and the UNSC Widower we're all alone. All the other ships will be too busy handling the Covenant forces in-system. Your personal assignments should be uploaded to your APA (Advanced Personal Assistant) by now. Any questions?"
A black Lieutenant Commander stood up. "Ahhh...sir, a single Covenant Carrier can launch at least 350 Seraphs. And you said there were at least fifty of them. Against 144 Dagger Fighters and 72 Longsword Interceptors. Don't you think the odds are slightly against us?"
Rick threw him an angry glare. "I'm well aware of the odds, Commander Smith. But we'll have over sixty Super MAC guns. As soon as the Covenant ships appear, they're good as dead. We won't have too much to worry about.
"And even if there are hundreds of the bastards, we'll stop them from getting to Earth at all costs!" He turned and looked at each one of them. Apparently satisfied he went on. "We need to be ready to launch in an hour—dismissed."
The pilot's snapped to attention, saluted and filed out. Rick followed them and headed toward the locker room. He suited up and jogged to the launch bay. He walked in and grinned at the sight of hundreds of fighter aircraft being setup on multiple launch rails.
Rick sprinted up to his Dagger and almost reverently ran a hand over the wing of the aircraft. The Dagger resembled its namesake. It was long and slim, with a sharp nose. Two forward swept wings sprouted from large intake/weapons vent. Situated in the middle of the craft was a rounded cockpit with two large vector thrust engines nestled in behind it. They were relatively new aircraft and were known to outperform any Covenant spacecraft.
His Dagger was painted a jet black, like all UNSC aircraft. The nose of the aircraft sported a smiling shark swallowing a Banshee. Beside it was written: 'Covie-Eater' Right below his cockpit canopy was his name and rank. And below that were meatballs, signifying his kills. Twenty-Seven of them adorned the side.
Rick climbed up the ladder then looked at his crew chief, "She okay?"
The chief grinned, displaying a face full of crooked teeth. "She's as smooth as a prom queen's thighs but nowhere near as risky. She won't let you down. Good hunting. Oh and by the way, I expect you to come back with at least another ace marking to slap on your campaign list."
"Don't worry, chief, I won't let you down," Rick responded as he dropped into the pilot's seat and strapped himself in. He put on his helmet and clicked on his COM, "Control this is Gold Lead, I'm in the green and first in the duck shoot; ready to launch."
"Copy Gold Lead, permission granted, May your enemies die by the score."
Rick signed off, and switched to his Squadron Channel. "Alright boys, we're the first out and the closest to where the enemy is most likely to appear. So let's do this and do it right."
COMs clicked in acknowledgement. He waited for his fighter to spin around in the docking harness. When it did a green light popped up on his HUD. He slammed the throttles forward.
Over 500,000 square pounds of afterburning thrust came from each engine and slammed into the acceleration backstop right behind his fighter. His fighter was launched out of the bay at over Mach 29. Behind him the rest of the 889th's Gold Squadron launched; looking just like large missiles.
Rick slammed his control column to the side, causing his Dagger to turn almost ninety degrees in the space of a second. He now skimmed along parallel to the Widower's hull. He pulled up and cruised around, waiting for the rest of his squadron to form up. When they did, he snapped out a stream of orders and his squadron started to deploy to their position.
Suddenly his sensors screamed, warning him of an opening in Slipstream space. He looked up and gasped. Green light boiled and expanded as a Covenant frigate exited slipspace and began disgorging Seraph fighters. Almost before it was done a dozen Super MAC rounds struck.
The frigates shields didn't do a thing. The large rounds ripped all the through the enemy vessel. The ship was torn apart from the force of multiple impacts. Its spine broke and pieces of the vessel started to break off, trailing plasma and fire. Atmosphere vented out, Covenant personal and equipment spilled out into the vacuum of space, and one large remaining piece of the frigate expanded outward in a rolling blue explosion, leaving nothing behind but debris.
His squadron cheered. "Can the chatter," he snapped. "We still have forty eight Seraphs to deal with. Now give me a Line Maneuver."
The Daggers formed up in a single staggered line, flying straight for the enemy. "Fire at will," Rick ordered, as if ordering an evening meal. He switched on his IR weapons system and immediately got a lock.
"Gold Lead, Fox Two," he said as he launched two AIS-36 ALRAAMs. Similar reports came back to him as twenty-four missiles shot toward the enemy. Rick looked out and tried to pick out the Seraphs but he couldn't see a thing, so he turned to look at his instruments. He watched as the impact clock hit zero and multiple targets dropped off his sensors. Looking up he could see bright flashes in the distance. His computer told him his missiles had scored two kills and that eight Seraphs remained.
"Alright boys, we're going to close and use the High-Low-Drop, got me," Rick said over his COM. "We gotta handle this quick so the other squadrons will have launched." Acknowledgements came back to him. He let his speed increase to Full Military Power, and climbed above the rest of his squadron. His wingman followed.
The Seraphs kept going, straight for the Daggers, in a headlong rush. Just before his squadron reached contact range, the area of space in front of him turned green and spat out dozens of Covenant Carriers.
The Super MAC guns opened up, spraying scores of MAC rounds at the enemy ships. The majority of Covenant ships didn't have a chance. MAC rounds tore through their shields and their armor, and then kept going, kinetic energy unabated. Lifeless hulks floated about, atmosphere leaking from ruined sections.
At least seventy destroyed Covenant Carriers floated around near Earth. And over thousands of intact Seraphs, and miniature Troopships continued on to Earth. And there wasn't a thing the Super MAC guns could do about it. They tried to hit the large Troopships and destroyed many of them. But the rest were now between Earth and the cannons. The MACs wouldn't fire for fear of hitting Earth; it was now time for the 889th Tactical Fighter Wing to do its job. And it had never failed.
Rick knew they had to stop the Troopships, but first they had to get to them. And being in the middle of a twisting dogfight with thousands of spacecraft wasn't exactly helping matters. He switched to a channel on his COM. "Captain Swenson, I need your Longswords to attack the Troopships. We'll try to break away and give you cover, but those Troopships need to go, sir."
"I copy Commander, We're attacking the Fatties now, but we'll need cover when those Seraphs start to jump us."
"Yes sir, we'll be there as soon as possible." He switched over to his Wing frequency, "Green, Red, and Blue squadrons give those Longswords cover. Yellow, Silver, and White squadrons come pull us out of this mess. The rest of you do what you can, within mission parameters."
His squadron commanders all acknowledged him and took off, under orders. Rick was about to dive into the swirling, twisting, and rolling dogfight below him when his sensor board lit up, telling him there was an enemy on his six.
Rick stomped down on his rudder and hauled back on the stick. His Dagger snap rolled and dove downward as Plasma fire lit up the section of space his fighter had just occupied. As soon as his nose was pointed down, he yanked his fighter into a hard port turn. When the Covenant Seraph did the same he turned back to the right. This initiated a dogfighting maneuver known as the Vertical Scissors.
Rick cut his fighter hard to the left and reversed thrust, causing the Seraph to shoot out ahead. Rick aligned his targeting cursor up with the enemy and pulled the trigger. The twin 20mm cannons right below the nose of his Dagger vomited fire at the Covenant craft. The Seraph disintegrated into a flaming piece of debris.
Rick keyed his COM, "Vape one Seraph!"
Similar reports were heard as Gold Squadron fought their way out of the mass of Covenant fighters. Rick rolled out to his left and formed back up with his Wingman. He said, "Thatch Weave." Immediately both fighters formed a moving circle pattern, and any fighter that tried to drop in behind either one of their fighters was eliminated by the other one.
Using this technique Gold Squadron managed to escape the furball, losing only one fighter. When they formed up with Yellow, Silver, and White squadrons, missiles were launched to discourage any pursuit.
"Alright, we've got to give those Longswords cover so they can take out those Troopships before they hit the Atmosphere. We gotta go now, full burn baby!"
All the Dagger pilots immediately turned on their afterburners and accelerated toward the mass of Troopships and Interceptors. Rick reached down into his cockpit and flicked on music over the whole COM channel. It was old music; at least 500 years old, but still enjoyed.
The Daggers dropped down and deployed right on top of the Troopships to the theme of Metallica's Enter Sandman.

To be Continued in The Defense of Earth 2



The Defense of Earth 2: The 889th Tactical Fighter Wing
Date: 19 March 2003, 12:31 AM

The 889th Tactical Fighter Wing

0630 Hours, October 14, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Earth Local Space, Near UNSC Widower

Commander Rick "Einstein" Mitchell watched the AIS-36 missile slam into the top half of the Covenant Troopship and explode, ripping out a large chunk of smoking armor. The Troopship continued onward undaunted. Rick cursed to himself and rolled out to the left as plasma fire soared through the section of space his Dagger had just occupied.

"Gold Squadron, I have an idea. Set your Weapon System Sensors over to all Frequency broadcast and slave them to the Longswords. We'll drop in and get locks on the Troopships and feed them to the Longswords, so they can launch their Hammers at long range, without being ripped to pieces by the Seraphs," Rick ordered over the COM channel.

"Yes sir," Gold Seven and Squadron XO, Lieutenant (SG) Michael "Thump" O'Reilly replied, his voice anxious.

Rick flipped his COM channel over to that of the Longswords and informed their commander of the plan.
"That should work nicely, we'll volley till we're skinny and dry!" Swenson said.

"Yes sir," Rick responded. "And we'll see what we can do to keep your boys alive." Rick flipped back to his Wing Frequency, "I want Red to join me, the rest of you cover those Longswords. Now let's hit it." Rick decided a slight change in tune might work, so he flipped on Black Sabbath's 'The Mob Rules.'

He knew his tactic would work. It would take multiple hits from an AIS-36 to bring down the Troopships, but only one from the Longsword's Hammer Cruise missiles. He punched in a command code and dropped in behind the Troopship he'd shot at earlier. He got a lock and sent the sensory feeds to the Longswords.

Two Hammer Cruise Missiles reached out and slammed into the Troopship. The first hit amidships, breaking the ship's back and doing major structural damage. The second hit the Plasma Engine assembly, severing it and causing the Engine to rip free of the Troopship. The ship listed to port, spewing out standard Covenant U-shaped dropships, then spun and hit the atmosphere, burning up.

Rick grinned and turned to the left to drop in among another Troopships, but was distracted. His sensors lit up, indicating two Plasma Torpedoes about to slam into his ship. He looked to his left and saw the two bright blue comets; seconds from impact, closing on him like a pincer. He acted instinctively.

Rick slapped his stick to the side and felt the momentary press of Gs before the inertial compensators kicked in. He then slammed his throttles forward into blower and hit his rudder. His Dagger rolled ninety degrees and banked to the left darting in between the two torpedoes.

The two Plasma torps slammed into each other, instead of his Dagger, and coalesced into an azure fireball. Rick inverted his fighter and dove on the Seraph that had shot at him. He dropped in right behind his six and pulled the trigger, while saying, "Fox Two!"

An AIS-36 heat-seeking missile darted out of his weapons bay and lanced itself deep within the Seraph before it exploded. It did so in a bright fireball, throwing out shrapnel. Rick knifed through the explosion. "Gold One vapes another Seraph! That makes eleven for me. A new record!"

Rick rolled out behind another Troopship, got a lock, and watched as Hammer Cruise Missiles arced in and ripped it to pieces. He pulled up just as the Covenant Troopships hit the atmosphere. His Dagger would be of very little use in the atmosphere. He clicked on his COM.

"Well we did our part, now the Air Force will have to do theirs, but it's not like we left them a lot to work with."

"That's right sir, we kicked their sorry extraterrestrial asses. They won't want to go up against the 889th again," cheered his XO.

"Preach it, Thump," a young ensign shouted over the COM channel.

"All squadrons we need to get back to the Widower to rearm and refuel now, before more Covenant ships show up." Captain Swenson growled.

"Aye aye, Captain," Rick said as he spun his Dagger and lined up with the UNSC Widower. He flew in the docking bay and caught a docking harness. It took his Dagger over to its proper place. Rick popped the canopy and climbed out. He left his helmet and survival equipment in the Dagger's seat and turned to his crew chief.

"I got eleven of the fags, how's that for an hour of work?" Rick said, while wiping his sweat-stained flight suit.

The crew chief smiled, "That's a new record. I'll put them up as soon as I'm done with rearming her. Ammo and fuel first sir, you know how it is."

Rick started to walk away, then frowned; looking at the side of his fighter's nose. Where there had once been a picture of a reclining shark swallowing a Banshee, all that remained was a charred piece of armor and the Banshee. That wasn't a very good omen. He turned to his crew chief.

The chief saw it and reassured Rick. "Don't worry I'll fix it up soon as I'm done with your meatballs."

Rick grinned, gave him thumbs up, and jogged to his debriefing station. He got there and took his seat up front. An ONI colonel was standing up front near the podium. Rick looked at him and immediately recognized him as Colonel Ackerson from NavSpecWep.

The Colonel looked around at the assembled high-priority officers, and then began. "Gentlemen right now there is a lull in the fighting. For some reason the Covenant have pulled back and are reforming. We are going to use this 'window' to reinforce Earth and counter attack. As you know the Covenant continued with their standard Distraction, Deception, and Deceit tactics. While our forces where engaged several carriers used a pinpoint jump to get in close to Earth and attack.

"And well the 75 ships that jumped in system were completely wiped out by the MAC guns. During the engagement our casualties were relatively light. We lost about seven percent to their twelve percent. Our biggest worry is that when we counter-attack is that the Covenant will jump close to Earth and attack. If they do that, they have a three-hour window to destroy our Super MACs and invade Earth.

"All our forces are committed near Mars. We have to stop them there. Just in case we're sending fifty of the new battleships here. As you know this ships aren't like all our other cruisers. They're more than a match for any two Covenant Vessels. These coupled with the Super MACs plus any reinforcements should be enough to hold back any attack long enough for us to get in and rip them to pieces. Your new assignments are being uploaded to your APA now.

"I've got to get back to Admiral Stanforth. Rear Admiral Joseph Mugs will be in charge of all forces near Earth. Good luck to you all. We've got to protect Earth with everything we have. If they take Earth, it's all over." With that he saluted, turned and left the room.

Rick looked down at his APA and frowned. His fighter wing, what remained of it, were to arm themselves with ASM-19 Shredders and strafe any Covenant Capital Ships. This tactic wasn't known to promote longevity among pilots. It was a simple tactic and when used correctly proved very effective.

A squadron would fly straight at a cruiser in wedge formation and launch a Shredder salvo aimed at a certain spot. Hopefully this combined barrage would punch a hole in the shield large enough for a Longsword, following closely behind, to plant a Driller anti-ship missile.

The Drillers were known to drive straight through armor, bulkheads, and anything that got in its way and then explode. The pilots had learned to 'aim' the missile so when it exploded it would be near either the bridge or the Plasma Reactor. This proved to render the Covenant vessels 'combat ineffective.'

Rick called his Wing into the briefing room and informed them of the plan. They weren't surprised. The UNSC had been throwing away fighter wings like this for years, just to save their precious 'big ships.' Luckily most units had practiced this and were prepared.

Two hours later, Rick was in his Dagger with the rest of the 889th Tactical Fighter Wing, flying CAP (Combat Aerospace Patrol) around the Widower. His wing had a good plan and was ready for the Covenant, at least as ready as they could be. That was before his sensors beeped telling him of Slipstream exit. Multiple Slipstream exits. Looking up, he almost wet himself.

Precisely 700 Covenant Capital Ships had just dropped out of space in front of him. They flew in a perfect formation. Their blue and purple hulls glistened when they caught reflected light from the sun. All the ships appeared to be grinning, their bulbous sections pointed toward him.

Every single MAC gun fired and all the rounds fell short. The Covenant were out of range, but not by much. And they were advancing. Rick saw the trailing sapphire glow of the Plasma Engines as the ships accelerated toward the Fleet. Toward him. Toward Earth.

Rick was at a loss for words, but managed to find: "Oh shit!"



The Defense of Earth 3: The 889th Tactical Fighter Wing
Date: 6 April 2003, 4:24 AM

The 889th Tactical Fighter Wing


0900 Hours, October 14, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Earth Local Space, Near UNSC Defense Fleet

Commander Rick "Einstein" Mitchell knew they were in trouble. Hundreds of Covenant ships had just jumped in close to Earth. He knew they were all going to die, but he also knew his assignment. He flicked on his COM and began issuing orders for his fighter wing to attack the approaching Covenant.

His squadrons formed up in a wedge formation and accelerated toward the Covenant Capital Ships. He shoved his throttles all the way forward and activated his targeting systems. He immediately got a lock on the leading Covenant Battle Cruiser; he then broadcast it to his squadron members.

"Launch on my mark!" Rick said. "Three...Two...One...Mark!" All 108 remaining fighters in his wing launched a Shredder missile; all of them headed for the exact same spot.

Rick watched the little contrails lance toward their target. They impacted with the Covenant Cruiser in a brilliant flash of white. His sensors reported that there was a large hole in the Covenant Ship's shields. He told the Longsword Wing Commander and sent him the targeting upload.

Captain Swenson's voice floated over the COM channel, "I copy Gold lead, we're launching now."

Rick looked over to see four Longsword Interceptors squirt out four Driller AAS missiles at the enemy ship. The Driller's arced up and plummeted downward, headed straight for the breach in the Covenant ship's shields.

The Drillers were slower than the Shredder missiles. This caused two of the missiles to be destroyed by pulse laser fire. The other two hit the ship.

The first one impacted on the two-meter thick armored hide of the ship, but drilled straight through it and kept going, ripping through bulkheads, supports, storage bays, and anything that got in its way. It exploded in the middle of the Cruiser, the second missile followed suit.

The Covenant Battle Cruiser seemed to jump upward as pieces of it tore free and were sent whirling out into space. The bulbous middle of the ship seemed to grow and expand, then turn into an ultraviolet flash as the Battle Cruiser disintegrated into chunks of superheated metal.

Rick smiled at the sight, but that quickly went away, when he noticed the thousands of Seraphs boiling out of launch bays on the other Covenant cruisers. He checked his sensors, then did a comparison between Covenant numbers and UNSC numbers. He got the following: Covenant forces; 697 remaining capital ships, 261, 450 fighter spacecraft. UNSC; 51 remaining capital ships, 60 Super MAC Guns, 144,000 fighter spacecraft.

Looking at these numbers, Rick felt his gut tighten with fear. There was no way they could win against these odds. Even if the new UNSC battleships could destroy at least three times their number and the MACs accounted for over 100 hundred kills every minute. The Covenant fighters would tear through the UNSC fighters then whittle the MACs and battleships down.

Oh well, it wasn't his job to worry about that. He turned to the left and entered the cloud of approaching Seraphs.





On the bridge of the UNSC Widower


Rear Admiral Joseph Mugs stood on the bridge; hands clasped behind his back, and surveyed the battle. It wasn't good. The Covenant had swarmed his meager supply of Battleships, eliminating any advantage the Battleships would have had against lesser numbers. The Battleships were new ships. They were bigger then every ship in the UNSC except the new Carriers, but they packed a far more powerful punch.

They were the first ship to incorporate Covenant technology. Along with a powerful shield, based on the ones Covenant ships used, they carried a large Fuel Rod Cannon (FRC) that could bring down the shields on any Covenant vessel. To add to the power they packed two of the advanced MAC guns; the ones that could fire three times on one charge. And the combo was topped off with over a thousand Archer missile pods.

The Battleships had already faced intense combat, yet they maintained a 4 to 1 kill ratio against Covenant Capital Ship; an unheard ratio. Before the Battleship it took two UNSC Destroyers to successfully bring down a Covenant small cruiser. But the Battleship could take on two Covenant Destroyers and come out in good shape.

He barked a command at his bridge officers, "Helm, bring us about to heading Two-Three-Seven. Weapons make sure our shields are at full and remove the safeties from the MACs, charge our FRC. Acquire firing solutions on the biggest Covenant ships."

"Heading Two-Three-Seven, aye-aye Admiral," the Navigations officer replied.

"All weapons are hot and fully charged, sir, firing solutions are ready," his Weapons officer, answered, her voice curt and precise, betraying no anxiety.

"Dante, battle assessment and predictions," Mugs asked the A.I. assigned to his ship.

The holographic hooded figure rotated toward him and spoke in a smooth whispering voice. "I predict our forces will be completely wiped out before reinforcements arrive. But, our forces should take down at least half of the Covenant. My assessment is based upon previous reports and current battle protocol."

"Damn, we can't let that happen. We need at to stop them. How long before reinforcements arrive?"

"The main force is still held up by a number of Covenant vessels, but are slowly dealing with them. Earliest arrival by not in-system ships is two hours. That is the UNSC Agonizer and escorts, Admiral."

"Alright, we'll have to hold until then. Weapons bring fire on the first approaching destroyer. Let's bring that bastard down."

"Aye-aye, Admiral, firing FRC now."
Deep within the vessel a fusion reactor released a built up charge directly into a waiting container of Plasma Fuel. The Fuel superheated, turned a bright green, and shot down a long shaft out the firing bay and accelerated into space. The blast hit an approaching Covenant Destroyer and completely brought down its shields, leaving it open to total annihilation.

Two loud thumps resounded through the hull as the twin MAC guns fired. Two silver tongues reached out and licked the Covenant Destroyer. The Destroyer's port side crumpled and collapsed. The MAC rounds passed through the hull, tore through important ship systems, and left large holes in their wake, as they exited out the other side.

The Covenant Destroyer listed to port, atmosphere venting out of ruined sections of hull, internal explosions shot down the length of her hull, until an explosion hit her Plasma Reactor. She expanded outward in a rolling, blue explosion.

The Admiral grinned in satisfaction, then turned to his A.I. "Dante, get me an open channel to all UNSC ships under my authority."

"Complying," the A.I. replied, as patterns scrolled all over his projected form. A minute later the screen on the Widower's bridge split up into multiple sections, each showing a Captain of a Battleship.

"All ships: Prepare Point Defense 3, we have a Golf case, repeat Point Defense 3, for Golf case. Do not, not matter what violate Golf case parameters. Mugs out."
Mugs turned to his bridge crew. "Bring us about to face that other Destroyer."



Rick slapped his control column to the side that inverted his fighter, causing the plasma torpedo following him to overshoot and explode. He snap-rolled to the left, and then rolled back to starboard. The Seraph shot by his fighter and began a hard turn to the right.

Rick dropped in behind him and lined his targeting reticle on the Seraph's spine and held the trigger down. The two 20mm cannons on each side of his Dagger's nose vomited fire at the Covenant.

The Seraph's port side broke off in a blue explosion. The rest of the fighter spun out of control and spiraled downward, toward Earth's atmosphere.

Rick pulled up and said, "Vape one Seraph." He didn't hear any response. Everyone else was too busy trying to survive to talk. He turned around and went head to head with a Seraph bearing down on him.

He flicked his weapon selector over to 'Missile' and waited for his Target Acquisition System to lock up on the target. When it did he pressed the trigger, saying, "Fox two!"

An AIS-36 IR guided missile leapt off its rails and darted at the Covenant ship. It hit directly on the ship's nose and exploded halfway through the ship. The Seraph morphed into a bright blue-orange cloud of expanding gasses and microscopic debris.

"Vape one Seraph," Rick monotoned over the COM channel. He rolled his Dagger on it's back to avoid a Pulse Laser Blast and watched in horror as a Covenant Battle Cruiser eliminated three Super MACs in a row. It was going to be a long day.

To be continued...



The Defense of Earth 4: Ghost Ship
Date: 8 April 2003, 11:03 PM

Ghost Ship

0945 Hours, October 14, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Earth Local Space, Middle of UNSC Defense Fleet

       "Lieutenant Herrick roll us to starboard," Rear Admiral Joseph Mugs ordered his ships navigation officer.

      "Complying sir," he responded as the Widower began to roll over.

       Mugs didn't even fell the spin; the only way he noticed that the ship had inverted was the now upside down view outside the main viewport. "Weapons, port shield status?"

       "Down to five percent with multiple breaches. I'm recharging now, but it'll take a while," the Weapons officer replied, her face beaded with sweat.

       "Shit! Admiral, we have multiple Plasma Torpedo launches, bearing one-two-seven. Impact on starboard shield in six seconds!" The Navigation officer screamed hysterically.

       "Divert all uncritical power to starboard shields," Mugs returned, his firm voice betraying no anxiety.

       "Aye aye," his Weapons officer said, already following orders.

       The two Plasma Torpedoes slammed into an invisible force field, 200 meters away from the Widower, causing the space around the Battleship to glow static silver. The torpedoes coalesced into an azure fireball that shot gouts of superheated plasma out in all directions, except past the shield.

       Mugs almost fell out of the command chair by the force of the blow. The Widower rocked. "Shield status?"

       "Starboard shields are down to fifty percent. Port shields have recharged to ten percent," Dante, the ship's A.I., responded.

       "What about the Destroyer that launched 'em?"

       "I took the initiative and sent it a FRC and MAC volley," Dante said, his artificial, holographic face showing a smile that looked all to feral for Mugs liking. "I have highlighted the areas where the largest pieces of it can be found."

       "No thanks. Give me a SitRep." Mugs ordered the A.I.

       "UNSC casualties: 101, 435 ship-to-ship KIAs and another 11, 000 damaged. 34 Battleships destroyed with 10 damaged, but still Combat Effective. 17 Super MACs KIA.

       "Covenant Casualties: 197, 234 ship-to-ship KIAs and another 15, 321 damaged. 347 Capital ships destroyed, and 29 damaged, Admiral."

       "Will we be able to push them back?" Mugs asked, his voice starting to betray his fear of failure.

       "Calculating," Dante said as symbols scrolled across his holographic form. "No, but if casualties continue along like this there won't be that many Covenant craft left."

       Mugs felt his gut tighten. He had never wanted this. The Covenant would wipe out his fleet and have a whole hour to land invasion forces of glass the planet, before reinforcements arrived.

       Mugs turned back to his bridge crew, "Well, I guess it's time to Dance with the Devil."



Cockpit of C742 Dagger Space Superiority Fighter


       Commander Rick "Einstein" Mitchell stood his
Dagger on its tail and rocketed upward. He followed up with a port barrel roll and a dive, which put him on the six of the Covenant Seraph that had shot at him earlier.

       Rick lined up his targeting reticle, which resembles a 'w,' and pulled the trigger. The 20mm cannon rounds cut through empty space. Rick followed the Seraph into a hard starboard turn and through a quick loop.

       He lined up his sight again and fired. He missed. The Elite piloting the Seraph was good. The Elite kept jinxing the Seraph left and right. Obviously this guy was a veteran. Rick executed a high-G barrel roll that put him right behind the Seraph, with his guns pointed straight into the Covenant craft's Plasma engine. He pulled the trigger.

       Dozens of incendiary rounds lanced into the Covenant ship's spine and gouged out sections of hull, leaving flaming pockmarks behind. The Seraph banked to the left, showing no signs of having been shot.

       Rick snap rolled his fighter ninety degrees and turned hard to the left. He found his nose pointed right at a Covenant Battle Cruiser's open Launch Bay. He was only 300 meters away and flying at about 500mph. He instinctively yanked his throttles back into reverse thrust and pulled up.
      
Even though his reflexes were extremely fast, his Dagger was too close to the Covenant Cruiser to avoid hitting it. His Dagger shot straight into the Covenant ship through the open Launch Bay and plowed into the side of the bay.

       Rick watched his nose crumple and the bay bulkhead rush up to meet him. Then blackness.




       Rick awoke precisely two hours later, with a pounding headache. He was still sitting in the middle of his Dagger, or more precisely, what was left of it. He looked around and realized how lucky he was to be alive. The Dagger's cockpit armor had saved his life. Where his Dagger had once had a long nose, nothing but crunched and compacted metal remained.

       First things first, he had to see where he was. He looked up out the shattered Dagger's canopy and gasped in amazement. He was actually inside a Covenant Cruiser. His Fighter had slammed into what appeared to the Covenant's launch bay and landed on the floor. Around him, hundreds of Covenant assault craft hung on racks and sat around, waiting to be flown. Strangely no Covenant were around.

       He checked his cockpit and frowned. None of the Dagger's equipment would work. He looked up and actually found his control column imbedded into the Dagger's glass canopy. He was glad he had been knocked unconscious during the crash.

       He popped his harness and grabbed his M6D pistol from its shoulder holster and climbed out of the cockpit. He cautiously made his way down, his pistol ready to blast anything he saw. He hopped down and crouched, peering through the jumble of aircraft, looking for Covenant. He didn't find any.

       He climbed back into the cockpit and grabbed his standard-issue survival pack. It consisted of extra ammo for his M6D, a MA5B with ammunition, a few grenades, a Comlink that didn't appear to be working, standard marine battle armor, and food.

       He filled up the pockets of his flight-suit and tried to get any one on the Comlink. Getting nothing, he ran over to a Covenant Dropship, hoping to get a ride out of the ship. That was when he noticed the Bay door. It was sealed with a blue gel like fluid, but that wasn't what worried him. Outside the Bay door he could see the distinct mirage like greenness of Slipstream space. The Battle Cruiser was in Slipstream. Great this day couldn't get any better.

       He wouldn't be able to fly out of the ship. If he flew out of a ship in the middle of Slipstream space, he would be ripped to pieces and none of the Covenant small craft had a Slipspace drives. He was here for the ride.

       The only way off this thing would be too get to the bridge and take control of it himself. He knew he would die. But it was better than being a prisoner and at least he would be doing something.

       He turned and jogged off toward the nearest door. The gray door, beeped and slid open. Rick proceeded inside, his weapon in the 'Tac-Carry' position, ready to neutralize any threats. There was nothing. Rick continued down a purple and pink hallway to another door. He went inside it to.

       Once again, no Covenant. Rick started to worry. Where was all the Covenant? Where they hiding waiting to ambush him, or where there actually no Covenant on this ship. It didn't really matter to him, he'd probably die either way.

       Rick continued into the next room and stopped dead in his tracks. The walls were covered in blood. Bright blue, dark purple, and orange. It mapped the walls all the way to the ceiling. Near the doors he could see the trails of blood where bodies had been dragged, yet there were no bodies. What the hell happened here, he wondered.

       He noticed other things. The walls bore the tell-tell sign of having been shot with Plasma Weapons. He took a few steps in, his MA5B at the ready, and stepped on something squishy. He looked down and recoiled at what he saw.

       The floor beneath his foot was covered in green blood and bits of brown-white skin. He looked around, taking a more careful view this time. Intermixed with the Covenant blood he could see bits of green fluid and brown flesh. It must be some new Covenant species, he thought.

       He got out of there and continued on his way. From that point forward all the walls, and bulkheads were covered in blood. After a long stretch of seemingly identical hallways he arrived in a large, square room.

       In the middle of the room was an upraised platform, surrounded by holographic panels all glowing a pale blue. This must be the control room. Oddly, this room was devoid of blood or signs of battle.

       He jogged up the ramp and started pressing buttons on the holopanel wildly. He felt the ship decelerate and drop out of Slipspace. That was when the door behind him beeped and opened. He spun and dropped to one knee, his rifle barrel pointed at the empty doorway.

       Nothing. The door must have opened on it's own. Just as he was about to relax it darted out of the doorway and came for him. Whatever it was, it sure wasn't a Covenant species. Behind it, more of them came. Rick opened fire.

To be continued....



The Defense of Earth 5: The Flood
Date: 11 April 2003, 8:49 PM

The Flood

1200 Hours October 15, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Location unknown...


       Commander Rick "Einstein" Mitchell dropped his MA5B Assault Rifle's sight on the first thing out of the door and fired a three round burst. The creature fell back, its stretched brown body, spewing out a dark fluid green.

       Rick took aim at the next and dropped it too, but he quickly realized there was slightly too many for him to fight. He spun and fired another burst, before sprinting toward the nearest exit. He ran right into another of the things as the door slid open.

       He shoved the barrel of his Assault rifle right into its chest and held the trigger down. The thing literally disintegrated into a spray of brown and green. He kicked its mutilated corpse aside and noticed it looked a lot like an Elite. As he continued running, he tossed a Fragmentation Grenade behind him, for good measure.

       As it went off he turned a corner and heard shrapnel ping off the bulkhead behind him. He turned another corner and spun, deciding to make a short stand here. He dropped out his MA5B's empty magazine, slammed in a fresh, and cycled the bolt. He didn't know what these things were, but they had obviously conquered the Covenant that had been aboard this ship, then hosted upon them like parasites. And there were so damn many of them. They came at you in a flood.

       As the first one popped around the corner he took a split second to examine it. It had the body of an Elite, but with tentacles, growths, and sickening body parts protruding from stretched taunt skin. It was truly revolting.

       He sighted on its chest and squeezed the trigger. The 7.62mm Armor Piercing rounds tore through its chest like tissue paper, causing chunks of skin and green blood to splatter the walls. The thing collapsed on the ground, its claws gouging the deck plating in its death throes.

       Rick bounced a grenade around the corner and took off running again. He ran through another door and found himself in a small room with no exit. He circled around to leave by the way he came in, but the door had shut and locked behind him. Rearing back, he struck the door with all his might. His futile effort did nothing more than cause an echo in the small room and numb his arm.

       He knew there was no way out, but maybe the things couldn't get inside and get him either. He turned to survey the room when he noticed the small spherical glowing camera floating above his head. It was about the size of large basketball, glowed a bright blue, and had a small circular viewing apparatus mounted in the middle. It rotated and faced him.

       It spoke in a cultured British accent, "Hello, I am 3-4-3 Guilty Spark and I require your assistance. Somehow, the Flood captured this vessel and eliminated the pathetic aliens to whom it belongs. I was lucky to get aboard. Come now, we must detonate the Plasma Reactor and eliminate the Flood before they escape, they consume all!"

       Rick stood dumbstruck, wondering what had just happened. "Wait a minu—," he started, but 343 Guilty Spark cut him off.

       "No, there is no time. The Flood are within range of a populated planet, we must stop them before they get to the planet and feed. Now follow me, I will lead you to the Plasma reactor."

       Realizing he had no choice but to follow, Rick reluctantly followed the camera-thing out the door and down the purple corridors, now oddly devoid of any Flood forms. They reached the Plasma reactor without incident and 343 Guilty Spark led him through the procedures for detonating the Plasma Reactors. When Rick tried to ask Spark questions, the little A.I. just ignored him by humming.

       When Spark told him to set the timer for immediate detonation, he balked. "Hell No! I'm not dying to blow up a bunch off constipated rats! I'll set it for ten minutes and get the hell off this thing, do I make myself clear?"

       343 Guilty Spark sighed, "Why do humans always insist on putting their own lives ahead of that of the greater good? Never mind it doesn't matter. If you must, hurry up and I'll lead you to the launch bay, where we both can escape."

       Rick nodded and followed Spark out the door. 3 Flood Forms were there to roll out the welcoming matt. He lifted his MA5B and fired at the first. It dropped, but the second and third were upon him. The one on the left swung an overhand blow straight for his head.

       He threw his legs out from underneath him, and watched the Flood Form's claws pass within an inch of his face. He lifted his rife and fired. The rounds exited the barrel and tore off the Flood form's arm and a chunk of its torso.

       The thing reeled away, green fluid spraying from its wounds. The last one leapt at him, its powerful legs propelling it through the air. Rick rolled out of the way as its claws ripped through the deck plating he had just been lying on.

       Rick jumped up and held down his assault rifle's trigger. Nothing happened. He looked down at the ammo counter and saw the horrid number zero menacing him with its blue glow. Moving swiftly he dropped the weapon and yanked his M6D pistol free of it's holster and fired at the critter.

       The first round pierced it and left out its torso leaving a ragged exit wound. Before he could fire again the creature charged him and slammed into his chest armor.

       Rick fell back and lifted his pistol, holding down the trigger. The Flood Form collapsed from the onslaught of bullets. He stood up and checked the dent in his armor. Those things sure packed a punch. He knew he'd have a bruise there for a few weeks.

       Looking up he could see Spark impatiently waiting, "Are you done yet. We haven't got the time for you to stay and play with your new friends."

       Glancing around nervously Rick replied, "Well let's go before more of 'em show up!"

       "Follow me then."

       Without a word, Rick turned and followed the ancient Monitor to the launch bay. Once again no Flood creatures seemed to oppose them, but when the doors opened to the Launch Bay, Rick could see the Bay was infested with him.

       "This way," 343 Guilty Spark ordered and floated toward one of the Covenant Dropships.

       Rick ran after him, blowing Flood Forms out of the way. He hopped in the Dropship's side door after Spark.

       "The ship is ready and waiting, I powered it up while en-route here. I trust you can handle the controls?" the Monitor asked him, its British accent highly distinct.

       "I can fly anything with a stick," Rick growled as he grasped the unfamiliar controls.

       The 'stick' was a two handed steering wheel, with the throttle controls located on it. It seemed simple enough. He pushed the throttle forward and accelerated into space. He rolled the U-shaped Dropship up on its side and firewalled its Plasma Engines. In his opinion it was more sluggish than a Pelican. As he accelerated around the Covenant ship's bulk, he saw the populated planet Guilty Spark had been talking about.

       The Planet was in the distance, too far away too see clearly, but he could tell, without a doubt, the planet was Earth.

Author's Note: This one was, in my opinion, short and sweet. It was also the end of The Defense of Earth: Chapter One (parts 1-5). The next installments will be posted at a later date, but now I'm working on a new series.



The Defense of Earth 6; Spark's Demise
Date: 3 August 2003, 1:52 PM

                  The Defense of Earth: Chapter Six; Spark's Demise


1230 Hours, October 15, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Silence...


      Captain Dean Williams stared at the view screen before him, his eyes boring holes in it. Two hours ago he had received a message from Admiral Stanforth ordering him to leave the engagement near Mars and make all speed toward an intercept course near the moon. Apparently he was supposed to capture a lone Covenant drop ship.

       He turned to his Navigations officer, "Lieutenant how much longer until intercept?"

       "Ah...sir, you should be seeing the drop ship now.

       "Wait, sir she's radioing on all frequencies. Want me to put it up?"

       "Yes."

       The face of a young Navy Commander appeared on the viewscreen. "I am Commander Richard Mitchell of the UNSC. My fighter crashed inside a Covenant ship, carrying an ancient parasitic race known as the Flood. I managed to destroy the ship and escape. Unknown UNSC Battleship, repeat I am—"

       "Is he crazy or something. Send out a pair of Daggers to escort him in. Scan the drop ship, make sure it has nothing on board to destroy my Silence."

       "Aye, sir."

       Williams watched the two sleek Dagger fighters form up on the Covenant drop ship. The drop ship continued on, unperturbed by the fighter's presence.

       "Sir the scan is positive. Only one person on board, nothing threatening picked up, though we did pick up what appeared to be a type of AI."

       "Alright as soon as the drop ship docks, apprehend the Commander and search the ship. Isolate the Commander and make sure he is normal and mentally sane. Let me know when you're done."

       "Aye, sir."






       Commander Rick "Einstein" Mitchell knew he wouldn't be receiving a warm welcome; the two Daggers only boosted that thought. Both of the UNSC fighters were somewhere behind him, no doubt set up for a quick missile shot.

       "Commander Mitchell, this is Devil One. I'm you're escort. Stay on your current heading and dock in the starboard bay. Any attempts to deviate and I will fire. Understand?"

       "I understand, Devil One." Rick turned to 343 Guilty Spark, "You can explain everything about the Flood, can't you?"

       "Yes, of course I can."

       "You do realize they will suck your memory banks dry?"

       "Yes. And then they will terminate me. My purpose is no more."

       Rick shrugged and went back to flying the drop ship. Ever since escaping he'd tried to get answers out of the strange little thing, but Spark never told him anything useful. Coming up on the UNSC ship, he cut speed and carefully flew the drop ship through the starboard bay, slowing down and gently setting the ship down in the bay. He climbed out.

       The barrel of an MA5B Assault Rifle greeted him. "Sir, I'm going to have to ask that you come with me," the Marine ordered.

       "Nice to see you too." Just then, 343 Guilty Spark floated out from behind him.

       One of the Marines cried out in shock and lifted his assault rifle, firing a three-round burst at Spark. The first two shots bounced off Spark's domed top, but the third pierced the camera-like lens and blew through. 343 Guilty Spark dropped like a rock and rolled around on the deck, smoking and sparking. It was almost comical.

       "Holy shit," one of the Marines exclaimed.

       "What in the hell was that, sir?" asked the leader of the detachment.

       Rick felt strangely happy at the little robot's demise. It had just seemed evil. "I don't know, but it saved my life and Earth

      The Marine looked skeptical. "Follow me."

      Rick followed him.






      Captain Dean Williams loosened his collar and popped open a refrigerator removing a bottle of well-aged Brandy in the process. Today had been...interesting. The techs had downloaded a ton of very very interesting information from the floating camera-thing known as 343 Guilty Spark.
ONI had already gotten some pretty good information about the Halos from Cortana and the Master Chief, but 343 had whole databanks full of information. Information that would win the war.

      They know knew why the Flood had been created, where all seven (now six thanks to the 'Chief's handiwork) Halos were, who the Forerunner had been (though there was still no clue as to their disappearance, but Humans were their descendants), advanced technologies, and a bunch of other good stuff. But Earth had to be saved with what they had, not what they would have.

      Mentally, Dean knew his mission to get the information back to Earth safely was very important, but he couldn't help his wanting to kick Covenant ass. As the Intercom blared, "ALL HANDS, BATTLE STATIONS!" he knew he was about to get his chance.

      He tossed the Brandy back in the 'fridge, opened his door, fixed his collar, and ran toward the bridge. He arrived ten seconds later, slightly breathless; he was a UNSC Captain, not a world-class sprinter.

      "What is it, Commander Harrison?"

      "Two Covenant Destroyers; three minutes until we're within range, Captain."

      "Alright. Shields at One hundred percent; charge the FRC and MACs. I want three hundred percent engine power. Lieutenant Burns, set two-seven-zero," he said as he dropped into the command chair.

      "Merlin get me targeting info."

      The Wizard-looking AI suddenly popped up, symbols scrolling across his robed-appearance. "Info is up, Captain."

      The sensor port in front of him lit up with astrological equations, trajectories, and other info.

      "Weapons, engage the leading Destroyer at maximum range with the FRC and MAC rounds. Launch Archer missile pods A through E at the second. Coordinate with the second MAC volley."

      "Sir," his Navigations officer hollered, his voice panicked. "Multiple Slipspace exits behind us. Shit, sir, we have four Covenant ASSAULT CARRIERS behind us. FOUR! They're all within in range." The officer looked like he was about to cry.

      Dean knew it was over then. His Silence could have easily handled the two Destroyers, but it would have had a tough time handling an Assault Carrier, much less four. "Get someone to destroy that information. We can't allow even the slightest chance for them to get it."

      "Sir, they're not firing. They're launching boarding shuttles and fighters."

      "Ah, shit. They must know we have something they want. Wait, belay that order. Get me Commander Mitchell and launch all our fighters.






      The door to his room suddenly opened and a Marine MP walked in. "Commander, your presence is required on the bridge. If you'll follow me."

      "Of course, Sergeant." Rick followed the MP through the twisting turns of the Battleship. He tried to ask the MP what was happening, but he merely replied with a curt, "The Captain will tell you what you need to know, sir."

      When he finally reached the diminutive Captain, he snapped to attention and saluted, "Commander Mitchell, sir."

      "I know who you are, Commander. The information taken from the Spark thing shows you were telling the truth, so I have a mission for you. Multiple Covenant ships, the least of which is a Destroyer, currently surround us. We are obviously not going to survive this, but we do have an advantage.

      "The Covenant somehow know we have that information and they want it. Bad. They're not engaging us in ship to ship, though they have moved forward and have launched boarding shuttles. As soon as the shuttles are in range we're going to take damage to drop our shields, but it'll be Pulse Lasers, strong, but not lethal.

      "We'll hold 'em off as long as possible; our Fighter Squadrons are already kicking their ass. But we have a finite supply of fighters, the Covenant, on the other hand, have an endless supply. There are three remaining Assault Carriers out there." A mischievous smile suddenly lit his features. "A fourth one got a tad too close and was rewarded for her efforts.

      "I want you to take this information, get to a Longsword and get out of here. I would offer you a Dagger, but they don't have Slipspace drives. I want you to get out of here and jump out of system then back in, making it to Earth. A substandard AI has already been loaded into you Longsword. The Silence can't jump out, the Covenant are blocking us, but a Longsword can slip through. You'll have to go it alone; I can't spare anybody, but I'm sure you'll make it.

      "Your reputation precedes you. You have what, thirty kills?"

      "About that, sir," Rick replied.

      "Sir," the XO shouted. "We have boarding craft. They breached the shields and snuck through. They're on the Starboard Launch bay. The Marines are responding, but they're still kinda far away."

      "Well, you better get going Commander. You may have to fight your way to your ship, sorry."

      "Aye, sir. Could I get a weapon?"

      "Of course. Sergeant, give the Commander your sidearm."

      The MP gave a pained expression, but handed over an M6D pistol anyway. "There's twelve in the mag and one up the spout."

      "Feel free to raid the armory if you need it, Commander. If you think you're about to be captured, detonate the information," the Captain added, handing over a small black case the size of a pack of cigarettes. "You know how to use one of these?"

      "Yes sir," Rick said and saluted. The Captain returned the salute precisely and dismissed him. Rick found the armory easy enough. He conveniently found some standard Marine armor and a helmet. He put on both, found some extra magazines for the M6D, grabbed a shotgun along with a case of shells, and left, heading for the hangar.
He reached the launch bay without a problem, but getting to his Longsword would be a big problem. The Marines had just arrived, but the Covenant had had time to 'dig in,' making the Marine's job that much harder.

      The Marines and Covenant were on opposite sides of the launch bay, behind cover and taking potshots at each other. Rick saw a Grunt stick his head around a blast shield. A second later it exploded, spraying the blast shield with cobalt blood, as a 14.5mm sniper round streaked across.

      Two Grunts and an Elite suddenly burst into the open. Rick noticed they were the Covenant elite unit, wearing black armor. The Marines opened up, spraying the enemy, cutting down one of the Grunts in a shower of blue. But the other Grunt fired its Fuel Rod Gun, sending the Marines diving for cover.

      Rick suddenly noticed he was in a perfect position to flank the Covenant. He dodged behind a blast shield and lobbed a fragmentation grenade right in the midst of three Grunts and an Elite. He had waited two seconds to throw it after pulling the pin, so the Covenant had no chance to escape.

      The three grunts were thrown back and shredded by the shrapnel and the Elite collapsed in a violet spray. The group of Covenant beside that group suddenly turned their attention toward him. Plasma fire burned into the blast shield he was hiding behind.

      He levered the shotgun in the slit on the blast shield and fired, dropping an exposed Jackal. With his sudden occupation of the Covenant's attention, the Marines advanced. Two Marines toting Jackhammer Rocket Launchers ran forward. Two rockets streaked toward the Covenant on
tails of fiery crimson.

      One rocket impaled a Grunt, while the second slammed into the deck, wiping the Covenant out. Immediately a group of Marines crouched and ran, taking over the Covenant's position. A few holdouts still lurked around behind the Longsword.

      A couple of Marines advanced behind the Longsword and Rick heard a few gunshots followed by an "All Clear!" Rick slung the shotgun and boarded the C709 Longsword.
He made his way into the cockpit and noticed that the Longsword was warmed up and ready to fly; the preflight checklist was even done. Without wasting time, he strapped himself in, and grabbed a nearby flight helmet.
Gripping the stick tightly, he shoved the throttles forward into afterburner and accelerated out of the Silence. As he pulled up and away from the human ship, plasma fire sizzled past his fighter.

      Craning his head around he saw a Seraph closing in on his six. He didn't have time to dogfight with the Covenant fighter, but he couldn't leave it behind him, either. He'd just have to make it quick.

      He retarded the throttles and kicked his Longsword into a diving bank. More plasma fire whipped by his fighter, but he just reversed his bank and cut even more speed off. The Seraph shot right into his sights.

      Rick got an immediate lock and he depressed the button on his control column. An Anvil II missile shot out of the launch bay and lanced deep into the Seraph, exploding in the fighter's cockpit.

      The Seraph seemed to burst at the seams as it exploded; pieces of armor whirled away, trailing fire. Rick knifed through the explosion and accelerated away from the Covenant cruisers.

      When he hit a certain point in space, his Slipspace generator kicked in and he jumped out of the system as the Silence was silenced.





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