Halo: The Interlopers

There was absolute silence in the command center. Not a soul spoke, nor did a body move. All forty-one of the occupants of the room were frozen in suspense, an audience to the inevitable crash of the frigate UNSC Just Cause. A crash on the surface of a moon that looked so very similar to the one that four people in the room had been born on. A moon that one particular occupant had spent a millennium on.

A live video feed was transmitted to the center from the UNSC Andraste, which had just inserted thirty marines into the now-doomed vessel. The crews of the ship and the center as well as the guests, watched as the frigate silently crashed on the surface. Meanwhile, they could hear the collision from the SPARTANs’ transmitting helmets.

Metal shrieked and groaned as the vessel broke apart on the belly and the port side, leaving a trail of debris that stretched along the length of the trench the crash dug. The once proud starship came to a halt, and the hangar was filled with exaggerated sounds of one of the most basic bodily functions.

***

The SPARTANs and marines were all sighing loudly, showing enormous relief that they had survived this debacle. What came next was laughter, as Mark realized that not a single leatherneck had died or been badly wounded during the crash. Jason and Ethan joined him too, and the marines joined soon after.

The laughter was thunderous, and rightfully so. They had just survived a frigate crash landing on a moon, and not one of them had anything more than minor injuries. They felt like the luckiest soldiers in the whole damned universe.

***

As soon as the command center realized what was happening, why they were laughing, they began to laugh too. Pinkie was actually the first to realize they’d all survived, and thus the first to join in their mirth. Relief flooded the command center, replacing the grim outlook that had dominated the room mere seconds ago.

***

After a minute of relief, Knife team and the marines regained their composure, and stood up. Mark knew the plan for if the ship was damaged beyond repair, and he elected to inform the marines.

“Okay people, listen up,” Mark began. “Our objective was to secure this ship so that it could be put back into the fleet, but obviously that won’t do the fleet any good at this point. Now we’re going to clear this ship, room-by-room, until we can destroy any and all sensitive information onboard. Then we set one of the nukes onboard to detonate after a set time limit and destroy this vessel. We’ll evac from here using the Pelicans the CMs were kind enough to leave for us, and be home in time for dinner. Fireteams Alpha and Delta, you’re going to hold this area. Bravo, Charlie, you sweep aft; Echo and Foxtrot will sweep fore. Surgeon, Maverick, we’re checking the cargo hold; I have a hunch. Move out!”

Every group did as they were ordered to, taking turns cycling through the airlock. They could only go two fireteams at a time, which meant that Knife team went last, but got the whole chamber to themselves.

Knife team advanced through the narrow passageways, heading for the cargo hold in the ship’s belly. The trip was very suspenseful for them, with the team expecting an ambush at any moment.

“So boss, could you fill us in on your hunch?” Jason requested.

“Sure, I was talking to Emmerich a few weeks ago about this specific ship. This vessel was given a unique honor in weapons science. They were to carry the some of the first VANITY armor planetside and test it using specific personnel. This isn’t the only ship in the fleet with VANITY armor aboard, but it was going to be the first to test it.”

“By ‘specific personnel’, do you mean SPARTANs?” Ethan asked.

“No, actually it’s designed specifically for non-SPARTANs. It’s a hugely cheaper version of MJOLNIR armor that can be safely used by humans without any physical augmentations or training whatsoever. It’s not as good as real MJOLNIR armor, and it doesn’t have shields built-in, but it’s still light-years ahead of most armor. The only reason it hasn’t been tested yet is because of a lack of hospitable planets that would provide a significant but not overwhelming amount of variables to test it in, and the necessary secrecy. And now that we’ve found a perfect planet, the ship that was scheduled to test them thirteen hours from now is a wreck on the moon.”

“How easy would it be to reverse-engineer the suits?” Jason asked.

“I asked Emmerich the same thing. He said it’d take months to do that, but the components were cheap enough that the initial production run would cost half a million creds per each suit. Later batches would obviously be cheaper, probably going down to a hundred thousand apiece. The VANITY suits also come with a variety of accessories, to the point where they have the exact same modifications available as our suits.”

The team was almost to the hold.

“So it’s basically a high-end, next-gen armor system for non-SPARTAN personnel, and you think these thugs are here to steal it?” Ethan inquired.

The team reached the door, and took breaching positions.

“Pretty much.”

Mark slammed the door’s control panel, opening it. Ethan went in first with his shotgun, then Jason with his pistol, and Mark bringing up the rear. They kept a close eye on their motion sensors, wary of being ambushed by changelings. Mark motioned to the inventory terminal, and Jason went over to it, his teammates guarding him.

Jason searched for VANITY armor in the system’s logs, his high-level clearance allowing him to see everything there was. He spent exactly one minute twelve seconds searching before he found what he wanted.

“Okay. Says here this ship is carrying thirty of the suits, but that they were all removed from storage without authorization. Sounds like we’ve got our mystery cargo.”

***

Around the time Mark mentioned VANITY for the first time, the feed cut out. No more signal from anyone onboard the Just Cause.

“Raptor, this is Cavalia, we’ve lost your team’s feeds, confirm your status.”

No response.

“All Knife, respond! We have lost video and audio feed, confirm your status, over!”

Still nothing.

“Dammit,” Armstrong swore. “Someone, anyone, respond!”

He got his wish. The distinctive visage of an Elite officer appeared onscreen.

“You are all filth,” He began. “The gods have blessed your world with wealth and power, yet you squander your resources on foolish pursuits, worship false idols, and ignore their gifts to you! You could be travelling amongst the stars if you only searched your own ‘sacred’ sites for the true source of your so-called ‘magic’.”
Princess Celestia was enraged at these insults and blasphemies, and yelled back.
“And who are you to judge my people so harshly, and condemn us for our alleged mistakes!?”

The Elite roared with laughter, his mandibles parting as he did so. Most of the people and all of the ponies had never seen an alien this close before, never seen one so threatening or frightening before.

“I am Fleet Master Rolo’Duronee, and your planet is the key to restoring our faith. Make no mistake, you will all suffer.”

Fluttershy lay on the floor, covering her eyes and whimpering as if it would make it as hard to see her as it was for her to see anything. ‘Duronee saw this and chuckled.

The transmission cut off.

Still no word from Knife team.

***

“Well then,” Mark began, “If Black Mamba PMC has those suits, we’re up shit creek.” He activated his comms, and tried to contact Cavalia. “Cavalia, this is Raptor. We’ve found evidence that the Black Mamba PMC has stolen all thirty suits of VANITY armor that were stored onboard. How copy?”

He didn’t hear anything but static. Suddenly he realized something.

The only time I get static like that is if we’re being jammed by Covenant!

Mark motioned for his team to move back, and get out of the hold. He activated the short range comms, which he knew for a fact the Covies couldn’t jam.

“All units, we have Covenant forces inbound! All units aboard UNSC Just Cause, fall back to the hangar! Repeat, Cov-”

An explosion rocked the ship, as the belly was ripped open by a plasma charge. The ship was now venting atmosphere, and several more explosions thundered from various points in the hull, creating more breaches.

“God dammit!” Ethan swore.

Another blast tore a hole in the floor of the cargo bay, twenty meters away from where Knife team was standing. The blast didn’t injure them or damage their shields, but that wasn’t what worried them. It was explosive decompression that did that.

Mark’s weapons were slung moments before the bomb detonated, leaving both hands free to grab whatever he could. He grabbed onto a pipe and held on as tight as he could, but the suction was greater than the object’s strength, and it broke under the enormous pressure.

Ethan grabbed Mark’s wrist, saving him from being sucked onto the surface of the moon. Jason in turn held Ethan’s wrist with one hand, and a structural support with another. They held on for dear life, knowing that outside was at least one squad of Elite Rangers, and that they wouldn’t be able to react fast enough to beat the waiting aliens if they flew onto the lunar surface.

A few seconds later, the decompression stopped. Knife team readied their weapons as fast as they could, desperate to survive the coming onslaught. They fled the bay, and headed towards the engine room, anxious to accomplish their objective.

They came around a corner to see an Elite decapitate a marine with its energy sword and eviscerate another. The alien turned its attention towards Knife team and charged. He seemed to have a friend, because another Elite popped out too.
Mark activated his gauntlet-mounted energy sword, and swung upwards and to the right, creating a four inch deep wound in first the alien’s torso. He followed by shoving the blade straight up through the bottom of the other Elite’s jaw, boiling its brains and killing it.

“Surgeon, which way to the reactor core?” Mark asked.

“Go straight at the next hub, take the first left turn after that, and we’ll be in engineering.”

“Got it.”

Knife team proceeded to the first hub, only to be ambushed by Elite Rangers and Grunt Ultras. Their plasma weaponry ripped through the teams shields and impacted their armor before Jason put up a drop shield.

“Everyone okay? I’m green.” Mark asked. Their MJOLNIR armor could take plenty of damage before being breached, but it was still wise to make sure.

“I’m okay.”

“All aces baby.”

Their shields recharged moments later, the drop shield came down, and Knife team sprang into action.
Mark fired his grenade launcher at a wall, and the round bounced off to kill three Grunts when it exploded. An Elite closed in on him, and he swung the empty weapon’s thick barrel at the creature’s skull. It hit squarely on the jaw, breaking its shields, helmet and jaw. The dead Ranger fell to the ground slowly in the low gravity.

Jason swapped his own assault rifle for the dead Elite’s plasma repeater and opened up on the group flanking them from the other side. Coordinated fire from Knife team tore through shields, metal, flesh and bone; the attackers had just joined the thousands of souls who’d made the mistake of attacking a SPARTAN.

When Knife team reached the door to engineering less than a minute later, the door was locked shut. Mark motioned for Jason to hack it open, and Ethan to take up a defensive position with him.

“Looks like someone tried pretty hard to lock this down…” Jason stated.

“Can you hack it, or do we need to blow it? That’s what I need to know.” Mark said, half replying, half demanding. He and Ethan were still watching the hallway.

“Systems are all intact, no obstructions; I can hack it.”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

“I’m already on it, I just thought you should know.”

“Oh, sorry,” Mark chuckled.

“No problem.”

As if on cue to the end of their exchange, changelings and several Mambas swarmed into the second-nearest hub from one path, and Covenant entered from another; both paths were perpendicular to the one Knife was on, which gave them a good side view.

Ethan and Mark were about to fire when they noticed that the changelings and Covenant were attacking each other.

The insectoids ripped the masks off of Grunts and slashed at the shields of Elites. Likewise, the unique purple projectiles of needlers impaled changelings and shattered shortly after, causing devastating wounds. Changelings took down the shields of an Elite and dug their fangs into the soft areas of its armor.

Plasma scorched and boiled chitin. Fangs and claws tore flesh. Crystalline projectiles impaled their targets, digging into meat and bursting in a supercombined explosion moments later. Bullets pierced armor and bones, the slugs shredding organs and muscles alike.

A minute later, a few Elites stood victorious, but oblivious to the danger that lurked less than fifty meters away. Mark rewarded the winning assembly the same prize he gave all oblivious enemies; death. He launched a grenade at them, and when it exploded the EMP zapped away their already weakened shields, and the pressure wave of the blast killed them.

“Done yet?” Ethan asked.

“Just… About… Done!” Jason replied.

“All right, check your targets, watch for crossfire. We don’t know who or what’s in there.”

Jason switched back to his pistol from his plasma repeater, Ethan to his assault rifle, and Mark to his DMR. Mark counted down to the opening of the hatch with his fingers. When he made a fist, Jason opened the door. Knife rushed in.

***

“I don’t get it, why are we still seeing the fuzzy stuff on that screen?” Pinkie inquired.

“It’s static. We still aren’t getting anything from their end.” Armstrong answered.

“Are they okay?” Fluttershy asked.

“I have no idea.”

Worry was on everyone’s face, the ponies’ included.

Twilight Sparkle, who had found herself furious at Mark hours earlier, was now worried for his safety, the same as she had already been worried for the rest of Knife team and for the people onboard the ship. She had forgiven Mark for his earlier half-truth about her brother, although she resented that she had forgiven him so easily.

“If you need to use the restroom, you might as well do it now…” Armstrong said dejectedly. A few ponies and humans obliged. It didn’t seem like there’d be anything happening while they were gone.

***

It was empty. The whole room was devoid of people or Covenant or changelings. Displays flickered, all of them sharing a single dwindling power source.

Jason walked over to a panel that controlled the engines.

“Ain’t this the way that 117 destroyed the first Halo? This seems like it’d be a bit too powerful,” Ethan said, voicing his concern. Just like most surviving SPARTANs, he’d read the reports on how John-117 had destroyed the Alpha Halo; he had clearance.

“Yeah, but the Pillar of Autumn had bigger, heavily modified fusion reactors, remember? This boat uses regular old frigate reactors. I already ran the numbers when we were on the bird, just in case. When she blows, she’ll put out around three megatons; relatively low yield, but it’ll vaporize this whole ship no problem,” Jason responded.

“How long to set her to blow, and how long’ll we have?” Mark asked.

“Give me two minutes, and we’ll have a ten minute window. Give me three, and we’ll have fifteen. You might want to check in with the marines first.”

“I was just about to; I wanted a number to give them.” Mark keyed his comms, and tapped into the mission frequency. “This is Raptor to all marine fireteams operating in the Just Cause; if you’re still there, give me a sound-off, casualty assessment, and state your proximity to the hangar.”

“Fireteam Alpha reporting in; five out of five A-OK, we’re all in the hangar. An Elite got in and wiped out all of Delta, but we got the split-lip.”

“This is Bravo plus one Charlie in tow. We’re five outta five, but most of Charlie is KIA; last guy’s got mild wounds, but it’s just blunt force trauma, so he’ll be okay. ETA one minute.”

“Echo here, we’re down to three out of five. Foxtrot got swarmed by bugs like us, but they’re all KIA. We need about three minutes.”

“Acknowledged.”

“Boss, how long do you want?” Jason asked.

“Seven minutes, silent countdown until two. Can you do it on the dot?”

“Uh, give or take a few milliseconds. It’ll take me two minutes to get it that low.”

“Make it so.”

Mark waited the two minutes by the door, same as Ethan.

“Okay, we’re set to blow!”

Knife team booked it out of the room, and into the hallway.

“All remaining UNSC forces onboard the Just Cause, the ship’s reactors are set to blow! We have seven, repeat seven minutes until the core detonates with a yield of three megatons; you do not want to be here when it does!”

***

“Got it! We’re back up people!”

The command center cut through the jamming just as Mark ordered the sound-off. It was then that they realized how bad their team had it; almost half of them were dead, they were going to nuke the ship, and Covenant were on board and killing everything in sight.

They watched as Knife team fought off a large amount Covenant and CM forces on their desperate dash to the hangar. Numerous times their shields went down and they took enemy fire, only to persevere through it all. They were pinned just as often, costing them even more time.

***

“Two minutes until core overload; please evacuate..”

“Fuck!” Ethan exclaimed.

“We need to pick it up people!” Mark yelled.

Knife team moved as fast as they possibly could to the hangar. When they got there, they had to cycle through the airlock, which ate up another forty-five seconds.

“One minute until core overload; please evacuate.”

The airlock cycled open, the depressurization complete.

“Hold the birds!” A marine yelled.

Knife team sprinted to the Pelicans, and leapt into the bay of the nearest one.

“All units, this is Raptor; get these birds moving now!”

The Pelicans lifted off, their thrusters flaring with heat. The two dropships pushed their engines to the limit, reaching 800 kilometers per hour in mere seconds.

The survivors waited for what seemed like an hour for the ship to explode, before they realized that they were at a safe distance. This time there was no cheering or laughter, just silent relief.

A few hours later, the Pelicans landed at Cavalia Joint Service Base. It was good to be back on solid ground.