DISCLAIMER/ I don't possess legal rights to Halo or RWBY

Chapter I: The Virgin planet...

"I admire, untouched natural beauty."

-Theophilus London

Monday September 30th 2526, 5:23 AM (MILITARY STANDARD TIME/05.23)

The deep silence of outer space could be described as one sentence.

Pure, utter, noiseless, content.

Sound waves didn't project in space, making it an everlasting time of a hushed galaxy. The vast area known as the galaxy was filled with billions upon billions of sentient life varying in different shapes and sizes. Beyond that trillions and trillions of worlds touching just beyond the cosmo's that would lead to infinite mysteries that would be forever undiscovered.

Today was just one of infinite discoveries to be made. In a small alignment of unimportant dwarf planets floated a massive sphere of dirt and water in the center of it all.

An unknown green and blue planet among the stars. On the surface were white clouds turning on certain parts of the planet. The ocean were vibrant blue, covering almost 79% of the surface and the parts of land not touched covered the remainder 21% left by land.

It's spinning rotation moved ever so slowly, never changing it's speed. After a unknown amount of time, a pure white object made of glowing stone moved to the front of the world. When getting a further look the monstrous object turned out to be the moon. However it was not the moon we all know but a very different one.

It passed by just as slow if not slower than the planet itself. On the right side of the moon it was shattered like glass; massive pieces of pure white rock stayed by the moons side in all directions, almost like a puzzle had drifted apart.

It slowly moved its way toward the right as it continued its round journey across the planet. Across the background of both planets layed billions of tiny stars, and possibly numerous planets.

Just waiting to be discovered by man.

But past the fractured moon more than a few hundred feet was something unexplainable all together...

An even bigger object looming in the distance, pitch black in color and immense in size. It was a man made based on the size and shape, almost like a colossal black cloud with very defines features. But nothing could be seen through or past its massive size. It turned out then object was a made of titanium alloy metal. The surface was becoming more visible now and lights were coming from almost every corner of it.

It graciously flew through the empty vacuum of space like a knife through butter. Soon though, more and mores similar objects of varying sizes appeared behind. The massive shadowed objects approached closer and closer to the planet, steadily like water down a river bank.

Soon, the largest one passed the moon's shattered side by mere meters. It suddenly began to slow down suddenly... Then it halted its journey for just a few more moments as it stopped. When you looked closely upon the objects, it wasn't just an object at all, but a massive vessel constructed of long metal plates looking battered on some areas.

Along those places, wires, metal tubing, and hundreds of tiny singular blue and red lights could be explained. The vessel looked ready for battle, and looked strong enough to start one even at a snail's pace.

Considering the upper front portion of it looked like a massive destructive gun ready to fire at any given moment.

When you saw the side ports of the warship, you could see colossal round engines pushing the titanic like ship forward with blue jets escaping the ports. The speed of it was approximately at 1000 knots, which was equivalent to the raging winds inside a tornado. The eight thrusters began to light up, but halt it's journey.

Before the reversal thrusters lit up and pushed the ship back towards the moon, also keeping a safe distance from it so it wouldn't collide.

Looking inside one of the glass windows on the tip of the warship, a vast collection of computers run by several men and women in dark gray uniforms with a few pins and buttons over the top brazier. They all muttered incoherently into their earpieces while typing on the bright screens with numerous multicolored dots. One man on the far left of the control deck looked up from the advanced computer and said aloud to the room.

"Reading admiral, are you seeing this?" A young brown haired man asked in the control deck as several men and women sat behind screens giving out orders on head pieces. Meanwhile an aging man in a grey uniform with brown hair that was cut just above his forehead. He had a white skin tone that was rather pale with wrinkles over his head and down the ridges of his nose as he stood across the deck with his blue eyes narrowed.

His hands folded across his chest in disapproval of what he was seeing currently. He stood still with contempt at the moment, but broke out of his stupor with an authoritative voice.

"State this in note, I want full retraction to the fleet captains and a course reset to Harvest." He ordered to his co-captain then turned his attention back to the navigator.

"And I do, but I'm not really sure what to make of this." He talked out loud to the navigator. Today his plans were simple from a simple counter attack on Harvest. They were now in the process of changing since this wasn't really experienced before.

It had changed drastically.

The fleet being directed under Admiral Preston had apparently taken a wrong turn, and found another planet instead. Looking through the massive window on the control stood an ominous planet. It was there, but something wasn't right.

No readings were coming from its defense line, and no aerial traffic control.

It seemed like the planet was a desolate wasteland with no superior technology. This ceased though when they got in contact with a simple radio signal. It was simple, yet sounded very outdated.

"Can you locate any traffic control aerial signals?" The admiral inquired to the aviator. It was substantial to make contact with any type of traffic control to a planet, because in case they were unidentified they had the risk of being attacked.

"Hold on," There was a short moment of silence and the sound of the computer keys being pushed, and then. "No sir. Nothing I could trace related."

"Do you have any readings of O.N.I or orbital space defense stations?" If traffic control wasn't present, there had to be at least some type of remote protection of the planet. It was stated in one of the following issues that any colonised planet at least some type of security.

"Already checked, and negative captain." Eric, one of Cole's officers answered to the aging admiral..

Now that wasn't right...

Preston turned to his left toward flat computer near the widening screen and said to it. "Try and stabilize a connection to O.N.I then patch me through to Chief Parangosky. She'll need to hear this." The commander-in-chief of O.N.I was none other than Margaret Parangosky.

She truthfully was a terrifying and dangerous woman with the highest power in the U.N.S.C. Her power was unmatched by anyone else, and her cold demeanor could match that of a colossal ice storm. She was a shrewd woman in every right, with having the power to make you disappear if she didn't agree with you.

Her history before 2500 was wiped clean. Cleaner than both Spartan projects. Her rise to power was due to her evasive attitude in war meetings and up frontal strategies. After becoming an agent to the Office of Naval intelligence, she was practically running it by 2520. Less than 2 years offer being recruited a desk job.

This proved to be scary to some officials. Some even attempted to take her out of power.

And mysteriously disappeared.

However, that didn't result in their deaths - no. They were found alive... But all would die weeks later. They had appeared to have been dying of natural causes left and right. Although no one could prove she was the culprit... since there was a lack of evidence but enough against each man and women who worked against her.

Margaret's works were cold as they were volatile to some ensuring nation and sectors, but no one had the gall to confront her about it. As far as anyone knew she was god in office... Margret had control of the office, governments defense, the economy, and absolute control and full authority of the United nations space command in an out.

After a few minutes of loading, Preston asked.

"Sekhmet, progress report?" The weary vice admiral questioned.

On the flat surface, an orange glow appeared and turned into a mature woman wearing clothes that belonged to a pharaoh. "No Captain. Interference with communications will result in no quality. Please conduct a proper communications engineering specialist for your current problem." The hologram was the once fabled goddess protector of pharaoh's, Sekhmet.

She was a youthful woman with a skinny frame and wearing simple dress with double straps on each shoulder. On her upper arms was a simple strap wrapped, also there were on around her wrists, and around her ankles. On her neck rested a thick necklace made of ivory jewelry, and on her head sat a nemes made of cloth with gold linings on the sides.

"The planets atmosphere from the UNSC Troy read traces of 78% nitrogen, 21% oxygen, 0.9% argon, 0.03% carbon dioxide, and trace amounts of other gases. Making it perfectly healthy for human populations."

Preston hummed in the A.I's direction before looking to an officer across the deck and saying. "Polesky, deactivate countermeasures effectively," he turned toward the A.I " and get in touch with Captain Cutter. Notify him along with the captains of UNSC Austerlitz, Campo Grande, Constantinople, Excellence, Lance Held High, Lowrentz, Maelstrom, Midway, Sacramento ,Tharsis, Troy, Virginia Capes, Waterloo that we've stumbled across unknown region." Preston ordered to the "dumb A.I."

"Yes Captain." Sekhmet acknowledged in her thick accent yet it flowed like water. Preston then tuned to the right toward a younger woman standing beside him. She stood with medium brown hair put into a ponytail, blue eyes with with bags underneath them. She wore a standard marine outfit with a few badges on the left side of her breast, and a few naval stars on her shoulder.

She looked over to the captain with a questioning gaze as he said. "Set a perimeter around the planet ASAP. I want a full report on it's atmosphere, terrain, and any known life forms relating to Covenant." The admiral ordered to the woman who nodded before saying. "Yes Admiral Cole." She replied briskly before walking away. "And Ashley." She turned back toward the captain.

"Yes?" Cole looked at her dead in the eyes. But resumed his glance back at the object in front of his fleet.

"What do you suggest?" Cole asked the younger officer without looking back.

"Excuse me," She questioned under the vice admirals authority. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"We need to speed up the process for both objectives... What do you think Lieutenant? Do we station here or commute onward to Harvest?"

Ashley Duncan was born on a upper class city on the colonized planet of Mars on May 17, 2502. Her sophisticated or rather bland childhood consisted of moving to foster home after foster home for a number of years. Until she turned 18, she never truly had a home. After that she enlisted in the UNSC to become an Aviator. More than 5 years of service she became the lieutenant officers next to one of her idols, Preston Jeremiah Cole.

The job was both stressful as it was rewarding. Although now she was making a very big decision on her part for probably the first time. There was a mini tornado of ideas and thoughts spinning in her mind, and the first thing came to mind as she said it out loud.

" Ugh..." She breathed out incoherently.

"A Spartan-II perhaps?" She quickly shut her mouth afterward. What was she thinking? Sending the only Spartan on an unknown terrain. She was notified of a Spartan they had recently picked up off of Harvest after sustaining near life threatening injuries. Strangely though it wasn't a Spartan from Red team.

It was briefed during numerous longing war meeting that Red Team would be in charge of leading the battalion on Harvest. Yet they took a Spartan off that didn't match the description. It confused her along with the scientists operating on the spartan greatly.

After mis-read communication it was revealed the spartan they were treating was none other than the Squad leader of Blue Team.

"A spartan-II? Hmmmm." Preston thought for a moment. The aging captain had been through a lot of tragedies in his life. Loss of family, friends, relatives, and victories during the insurrection. Having a steady mind in battle was the best way to go forward and beyond. His planning were skilled as he was the first captain to be picked to lead the mission to take back Harvest yet again.

Margaret picked him herself actually. While he was skeptical he really had no choice since an act of insubordination with her was like asking for a bullet in between the eyes. When thinking it over sending a spartan to cover ground was not at all a bad idea, but losing one would cost greatly if it were to happen unexpectedly. A whole planet would take time though. Preston would not throw one of the Everest's best bargaining chip into battle all guns a blazing, but he would refuse to lose either against the Covenant.

He looked at the data pad before saying. "He's been out of surgery now for 4 weeks," Preston remembered quickly. "and he should be all set for a combat drop." Preston pressed in. "Both Blue team and Red team have the planet covered currently, might as well give it a shot."

"I hope." A single thought in his head. "Fine. Send Spartan-117 to the bridge. I need to brief him on the arrival." Preston finished without taking his eyes off the planet.

The discovery of a new planet was rare in the UNSC. Maybe too rare. Almost like striking oil with the amounts of credits that could have been made off of it. They had collaborated to nearly the farthest reaches of the galaxy and thought they had discovered everything they need to know. Although surprises were bound to come up and out of the darkness when it came to Outer space. Since space was like and endless ocean of mystery and knowledge.

In fact, even in 2526, humans had only ventured on 0.0000002% of the galaxy so far.

The chance of finding anything relevant to what was important would more than likely not happen.

"Yes sir, right away." She pressed a button on her wrist and said normally. "Would Spartan 117 please report to the captains bridge. Repeat, would Spartan-




"117 please report to the captain's bridge immediately." Came from the small rectangular outline on a solid metal desk. A hand soon came and lightly tapped a red glowing button next to the speaker.

"On it ma'am." Replied Weapons and armor specialist Gerald Howard with a full voice toward the small box on his desk. The slim man stood at 6'1" and had a smooth head without any hair.

His skin was a healthy tone with a single scar at his bottom lip and had a few subtle hairs on his chin. He wore a standard green one piece UNSC commission uniform, with black knee high boots. On his uniform it had a single patch over his left breast that displayed his name, with a few front pockets.

He exited out of his office and shut the door smoothly emitting a click of the lock. Outside his office was a long hallway with numerous shelved weapons. Some were new, while most were old and needed repair. He journeyed down the hallway, took a left, went down the stairs and walked through the sliding steel door.

Here, he had entered the main lobby for armor repairs that housed numerous machines ranging from armor storage units to shielding stations. He looked over to the far right of the armory toward the exit and caught sight of a heavily muscled bareback. The man sat idly on a filthy crane colored bench that was probably as clean as the floor of a bathroom.

Currently the man was facing a row of metallic lockers with a full suit of armor cast off to the side, standing tall on a equal magnetic force. The dark green armor with very small lights on the knees, and chest area was very intimidating. It was almost seven feet tall as it towered over everything like a massive giant. It looked thick, and quite sturdy along with being very heavy. The only one who looked sturdy enough to wear this armor would probably be the very imposing man sitting calmly beside it.

Only this man was around 6'9" and had the body every man would dream of having. His muscles on every square inch of his body from his back to his legs were lean, healthy and at their fullest potential. His arms looked as if they were crafted by pure stone. Muscles in his arms were packed to the brim, and didn't have a single inch of fat. Around his waist it could be described as "hard as steel" muscled post. Fat was absent everywhere from his chiseled back, to his lower legs.

In all right standards, this is what a human who wanted a better life looked like. He was in all rights, physically perfect...

Nearly at the point of being beyond human physical peak condition. Only a good portion of people had gotten there in their life while some never made an attempt to. The only true way to achieve such stature were two ways...

Hard brutal training, and never giving up whatever the cost...

This man had 4 ways and completed all with great effort. The said man was currently sitting on a titanium alloy work bench with nothing on but a pair of UNSC standardized pants, revealing his pale back to the world. On the top left of his back showed a dark red circle, and around it were several smaller ones on his lightly smooth skin. The flesh around it was slightly purple, but nothing too serious. It looked like it had been in the early stages of being ripped through and infected but had been cleaned and stitched up. His back held a smaller scar on the lower left corner with a similar circle, but that one was darker and looked quite older.

Next to him was a full suit of green armor, complete with a helmet displaying a round golden visor. It ad a black under-suit connecting the whole piece, with each individual armor plating on top of it. On each am were two white stripes vertically across. The armor had a few long divets with running over plating from previous battles over the chest. The most distinguishable mark however that stood out of place most of all, was the three white numbers on the right side of the chest piece.


Meanwhile, the man resting on the bench near the armor breathed a few times before placing a few screws in a cup next to him. This was no average man however, but technically a teenager. Many would have been fooled quite easily at the size of him, and how broad his shoulders were. Since this man was only born 15 years before. He was only 15 years old.

Born on March 7th, 2511 in fact. In all rights he was a teenager with the body of a 20 year old experienced athlete who was nearly at the ending stage of human perfection. Many would suspected he was some freak lab experiment or a meat head who had shot up steroids to get to where he was. Only both were increasingly untrue. Many wouldn't know what to classify the anomaly as, probably superior genes. That was only half of the statement.

It was the cause and effect of illegal experimentation by the government that had grafted him physically and mentally to what he was. For the past decade his life had been devoted to serving the UNSC and as one of humanity's savior. He along with a hand full of kids from discrete worlds were deemed ready and worthy to serve after careful handpicking by O.N.I operatives.

Some were unluckier than most and after all the brutality and died, and those who lucky had become something more superior than an average marine, or the hardened Orbital drop shock trooper. A SPARTAN-II Commando.

This boy was a Spartan-II.

His name was Spartan-117, Petty Officer Third Class.

His real birth surname was a secret. Even to himself to a high degree.

However to most, his name was simply John.

He currently sat facing the wall with the piece of the barrel from a M9 magnum in hand. Carefully, he cleaned the barrel with a soft rod covered lightly in gun oil, or lubricant.

He lightly slid it in the tip, then downward to him symmetrically. He let his blue eyes calculate the next bolt for him to take out, but a voice behind him brought him out of his thinking.

"Spartan." Howard said loud enough for the pale adolescent to hear. He turned his head around to the weapons specialist at full stature, and stood up fully.

"Sir." He gestured in a deep gravely voice for a teenager. That was heavily due to the augmentations that had been administered less than a year ago when he was only 14. March 9th, just a few days shy of his 15th birthday on one of Reach's medical facilities in orbit. It all was blurry to him when he tried to think of it. He was groggy for 43 hours, and in excessive pain. Not to mention staying awake was nearly impossible.

While it was painful as he fought to stay awake through the heavy doses of medication, mainly painkillers prescribed to him, he survived.

"Suit up, Admiral Cole wants you on the double." Gerald told as he left back into his office. John nodded and quickly reassembled his weapon with quickened reflexes. Less than 7 seconds later it was fully operational and placed on the side. John stood up fully before picking up the magnum, and putting it in the locker. He shut the locker and it displayed a name held on a dirty looking white card.

It read: John-117.

After removing the pants and switching on a pair of black boxers, he breathed softly, before he stepped over in front of his suit of armor and observed its details.

On the very right breast plate read his number, 117 in pure white. Under that was a single dark blue glass piece that would light up, John didn't know the exact reason why, probably for his heart rate if he were to flatline in an accident. His thoughts on the schematics for the armor then quickly went through his head, remembering all of the components. His eyes gleamed closer at the 3 numbers that described him.


It had been him for as long as he could remember. While John was his given name by his mother and father, 117 was something else completely.

It seemed almost a major part of him toward his deeper being, like a new life, a new beginning. As John looked at where the 117 insignia printed, he gained a dull throb at his own chest.

He lifted his pale hand up to the right side of his chest, just above where his heart was almost pierced by a needler rifle from a Jackal sniper.

John breathed deeply at the unforgiving memory that played from start to finish in his mind.

It had been caused entirely by the carelessness of one of his marine platoon members. Since the other members of "Blue team" consisting of Frederick-104, Linda-058, and Kelly-87 had yet to rendezvous at the extraction point due to complications across the border, John was tasked of leading the group there, without gaining unwanted attention of coarse.

Blue team's original plan was to locate any passing by survivors of the first wave of attacks. Red team was responsible for combat assaults near many populated perimeters, while Blue team was responsible for evacuating any survivors. Complications happened involving a glassing beam and they were forced to split up in different directions on pure instinct. Although it wasn't in any way unorganized. They were each given a designated running point and would not stop until they were out of enemy fire. John took the north, Kelly took the south, Linda took the east, and Fred took the west.

For 3 days they traveled, trying to lose the oncoming waves of Covenant that wouldn't cease. It was almost like a game of cat and mouse. Running while constantly looking over your shoulder.

It had only been nearly been a year since Samuel-034, one of John's "only" friends beside Kelly, died during the "Battle of Chi Ceti".

He perished during a mission after sacrificing himself for his entire team, something everyone wasn't willing to do. His death affected John the most of all, since he had control of the situation but let it slip right through his fingers. But being squad leader meant his duty came first. Samuel did what he had to do. If the missiles exploding didn't kill him, the empty vacuum of space would have done much worse.

Earlier in the mission, a grunt held back shot from a plasma pistol, and the outcome was deadly. It cut through Sam's armor. Sam himself made the choice to stay. John wished though there could have been another choice, for both of them. In fact, it was John who was willing to sacrifice himself for the better of his team. It was his role as Squad leader, taking care of his team through better and worse. Since it was stated "he didn't win until his team won." Courtesy of Drill instructor Franklin Mendez.

Even though "Chi Ceti" was a human victory, it was heart throbbing bittersweet one. The humans gained a win while John lost a good ally that day, and a friend. Nevertheless, that was in the past now and nothing he could do in his power would bring him back. All John could do was to move on with the rest of his career. That was really all he could do. Moping about the past wouldn't bring them back, and being angry wouldn't do anything. John had learned this on multiple occasions with several marines and few Spartans. He wouldn't be the one to judge any man.

Back on Harvest, he along with the other 51 marines, and 4 injured civilians had traveled on foot for nearly 5 miles. Hoping for a return transmission from "Blue team".

5 miles of burning forests had to be trekked through in silence. It wasn't easy, since smoke inhalation could have very well have killed them before the Covenant did. But every now and then, Covenant cruisers passed overhead inspecting for any lifeforms, making all the platoon freeze in cation. Yet for some reason, they were not detected...

John was new to the war, since this was the first contact had made with the covenant. The first revelation didn't startle him, but interested him. Seeing other living creatures besides humans was considered revolutionary to science, not to mention they were intelligent. This however changed when chief heard of their true intentions towards the humans...

Galactic Genocide...

Or in better terms the covenant sent the U.N.S.C a message simply stating, "Your destruction is the will of the Gods... and we are their instrument."

This was sent via-realy after they partially glassed Harvest. It was deduced that this was an act of all out war against Humanity. After that everything about the supposed extraterrestrial race changed. The covenant were the enemy. Master chief didn't question that at first. But he knew from the very beginning that Harvest would eventually burn down to the growing warfare tearing the planet apart. He wouldn't share his mind with his superiors, since it was his duty to guarantee he would fight through hell and back.

Still, now it was a matter of evacuating the populace and fighting anything that stood in their way.

After 2 agonizing hours of waiting and traveling through barren wastelands, the rest of Blue team eventually responded through the midst of combat nearly 12 miles away. It had been difficult, but they were nearly there to an evac point. Once they were past that point, they ended up near one of the more desolate districts on Harvest... The botanic gardens. If been a heavily industrialized facility meant to keep the planet's atmosphere stabilized for human systems, but since the covenant invaded the emergency countermeasures activated in a remote location.

The marine, Corporal M. Fritz had been rewiring his helmet after being hit by a single round due to friendly fire. When he pressed the on switch for his lights, he singled a line of Jackal snipers halfway across the dense area. Since the lizard like eyes of the Kig-Yar were almost pinpoint accurate, it was almost like a torch lit on fire, in the dark being waved around for them to see and tell. If they had been smart they could have taken out the Marines one by one, but there thirst for human blood and violence got in the way of their thinking.

In a matter of seconds, the sound of whistling stormed the desolate area, and many of the valored troops were shot to pieces by Needlers and burning plasma shots in every direction. It mostly happened in a matter of 4.5 milliseconds. John was able to successfully yank one of the civilians downward from the firefight, and nearly took a particle beam shot to the side of his head.

Many were killed almost instantly from the hail of plasma scorching their flesh and needles piercing their skulls and organs. Some who had a decent will to survive returned fire almost instantly while taking evasive cover. This was a bad choice too however since this only alerted more covenant to their exact location.

John took control over the situation by trying to flank them for a surprise attack, it was the quickest action he could think of a the moment when being bombarded. After hurling an anti-tank grenade to distract them, he began his charge toward them. He was nearly toward the hill they were covering fire, but before he managed to scale past a fallen podium he was taken by surprise. His surroundings were surrounded by a green shimmer on the ground.

Then there was the deep bellowing of a low rumble coming from the right side. His head was nearly taken off from a furious emerald colored beam. He turned toward the left to inspect at what had shot at him.. However he had a small idea of what had shot at him with that type of plasma projection.

Memories of that sound continued to pelt his mind. It was approximately the 13th time he had personally dealt with one toe to toe physically, and it certainly wouldn't be the very last. It seemed the covenant wouldn't ever run out of troops. They just kept coming.

In his thoughts, he could only come up with one simple word at that very moment.


The smoke cleared and revealed a twelve foot tall Hunter gasping through it's mask's green port holes...

The enormous heavy covenant unit composed entirely out of a colony of worms, had acted like it always did when it came upon anything beside Covenant.


John recalled that he fought vigorously against the hunter by pouring 2 clips into the exposed places and not covered by its thick armor. Every time John missed, it was another bullet lost to the nearly impenetrable metal protecting the Mgalekgolo. During war meetings by Franklin, the hunters were hard to take down since it's armor was made of the same material used for the Covenants warships hull. That was pushing it to the limits for top protection toward the Covenant's Heavy infantry forces.

The hunter only became angrier at the spartan and acted ferocious, swinging its massive shield around hoping to scalpel the Spartan. The form of combat was unknown to hunters, and only relying on brute strength and size to level their enemies or victims.

Before this had all happened, John had only fought against two of the colony of worms previously on "Corbui Academy military of Science's" destruction, when he and the rest of blue team rescued the three cadets. After that day, he needed to become stronger against them if he was going to be able to fight a horde of them if he had to. During simulations though they had pinned chief down numerous times.

Until he remembered the game and how much he enjoyed to win, and he would win every time.

That was when he didn't play around.

He fought against it fiercely until his ammo nearly depleted and the bullets were all flying directly at it's vulnerable parts. John could remember the luminescent orange blood spraying over his visor as he poured every bullet into exposed stomach. Just before he was about to deliver the killing blow, something jumped out behind him and made the ground shake lightly. He was met by another Hunter charging him like an angry bull.

In John's short line of duty in a war, he had yet to experience any type of lethal injuries. He did know of the high risk since during Blue team's first mission, he was shot in the side, but the wound was nothing life threatening. In fact, he made a full recovery less than hours later. That was how he was awarded the purple heart that day against the attack on Insurrectionist commander Watts apartment.

This however was one of of those first in a million moments.

This was the moment, for the second time in his life, John-117 got careless himself.

Everything before that moment was irrelevant.

John was shot full force in the side of his chest by a Hunter's bellowing assault cannon. Within a few seconds, the scorching rays of the incendiary gel ate through the armor, burning his side deeply as if a cattle prod powered by the rays of the sun.

John remembered he stumbled back a bit from the shock and grunted lightly at the recoil of the super heated explosion. While he only got hit with a fraction of the blast it was still enough to fully disorient him and nearly make him go deaf. After 2 seconds of heavy breathing.

A painful burning sensation formed and exploded in throbbing when he breathed deeply. The second hunter suddenly brought its massive shield down on top of him, attempting to pulverize him. John however jumped up and over the hunter with a great leap and onto a rock above them. He aimed downward and emptied a clip into the hunters exposed worm neck.

But this was were he made his fatal flaw.

When he had jumped up he forgot he was at the full mercy of the snipers.

Across the wall a Jackal sniper had spotted him. It leveled the beam rifle with it's heightened vision, and shot at him with deadly accuracy right above his heart. Severing his aorta vein.


John rubbed his hand on the back of his head at the memory, lightly touching the cold metal of his neutral interface at the lower part of his skull. He turned his vision downward and looked at the black control pad for the magnetic pulse holding his armor. The Pad was on a small pedestal by his feet with a few buttons in different colors and varying sizes. Since he needed his armor, he would have to shut it off, and get it set for suiting.

John lightly pressed on the small red glowing button that read "RELEASE" and awaited for board to pull up underneath. Behind the armor, a metal plank appeared behind and folded sideways, then the bottom pushed slightly forward scooping the armor by its back. John stepped back as it rolled out, and shifted sideways back into the wall. It remained in the same place before, but not it was on a metal bench lying down.

John signaled for assistance with the preparations for the combat suit. By pressing a orange switch on the lower panel, the box beeped loudly. Since it required a group of 7 scientists, heavy machinery, and 2 engineers to properly put it on correctly, it had to be announced. Even when the scientists were reasonable enough to know where the armor components attached to, they also needed experienced engineers to help attach them correctly.

Although, the heavy machinery was the sole purpose though for the operation

Without them no one, would be able to lift the hulking armor pieces.

Or repair the heavy damage done to him.

John couldn't remember what had happened after those events specifically on Harvest. But small reminiscing portions of his memory would pop up every now and then. Yet it continued to drive him more and more to confusion from them. It was aggravating, but the current status of his teammates worried him more. While John had been taken off Harvest after he was injured his teammates were nearly halfway across the planet alone without anyone directing them.

Frederick was last seen near a station at Utgard, leading Kelly toward an underground terminal. The last report from them appeared approximately, a week ago today. John wanted nothing more than to hear how they were faring, and would criticize himself for not being there and failing to be a leader.

John grunted at the memory, still showing some signs of anger. He wasn't angry at the fact he got injured, but angry at the fact he had lived and was still here not helping them. It would be a horribly to see Mendez's face after most of his training was based on teamwork. What kind of leader abandoned their team? Mendez would probably be shaking his head if he witnessed any of it.

Within a few seconds of pressing the button, a man in a white and blue lined coat entered the room through the long sliding doors. His hair could be described as a very dirty blond color,combed towards the left, with a few specks of gray hair around the sides. On the left part of his coat was a black name tag.

It read "Jefferson Piers" And tied around his waist was the sleeved arms to a hazmat suit. The radiation levels to charge the MJOLNIR batteries were toxic if spent around too long. Safety was taken seriously aboard the ship at all times, to all its workers and crew. If anyone were to get injured, the captain was automatically notified.

The covenant though we're making things tormenting with their sudden appearance.

Jefferson walked over to the tall teenager and told him. "Everything's all set. We were notified of the captain's order. Follow me and we'll head to sub level section 4. From there the engineers will prep you." He finished as his zipped his tight hazmat suit over his body, and wrapped the plastic head cover piece on.

John didn't know the man personally, but he knew of him to say in the least. After his accident, Jefferson was one of the scientists to disassemble the armor on John's body. It was a long surgery, with all of the burns on John's lower back and side. But he managed.

John shut his memories off, or at least tried to. He didn't want to remember or continue to think about his failure on Harvest. It would continue to distract him and he didn't need that now.

He wanted to thank the scientists, but that thought had passed by now.

"Lead the way." John answered back to Jefferson, and made his way toward the suiting chamber. Not knowing this mission had much in store for him.




When they arrived inside the laboratory, John was greeted by the strong aroma of latex gloves. As well as the sight of 4 well protected scientists awaiting around a upper platform. They were all dressed in complete with plastic suits, along with matching boots, and a pair of black goggles over their eyes around their heads. Over on the scientists heads was a magnifying control vision, which helped see nearly microscopic. It was mainly used to see it the armor and under skin gel had connected. Around the room were numerous tables, gurneys, machines, and wires hung from the ceiling. The walls were pure gray stainless steel, with the floors having a white styled design.

The smell though ranged far and wide.

Speaking of the ceiling, a pair of white robotic arms holding drills came downward from an upper opening platform. John looked over in front of him, ready to undertake the suiting process. While the accident stunned him, and the amount of surgery he sustained should have been a definite kill, he wasn't going to give up.

The covenant were far from finished with Harvest, and he wouldn't spend the final months laying in bed rest.

Although there was a small silver lining to this in a strange way. It gave him a better insight to how vulnerable he could be at any given time without the armor. He had to be more careful for future reference. In some case when a soldier was injured more than once, they would be put on leave. He wasn't sure for the Spartans, but was convinced he would be discharged.

All the scientists stared at him holding at him, until Jefferson said carefully. "Ready when you are Spartan."

John nodded, and walked forward toward the slightly raised platform. First part of the suit was the Titanium nanocomposite bodysuit that held all of the armor together along with the internal padding. It was probably the easiest to get on since it would tighten itself to the wearer's needs while it was also very flexible. Not to mention it was also the most important piece of the armor that it helped the wearers survival. John walked on the slightly raised floor currently in nothing than a pair of skintight black UNSC styled briefs made of micro stitched polymers.

Over his body it was quite clean, but a bit pale. On his upper left side of his chest though, was a fresh diagonal scar, but not as bad as the very large dark red burned tissue below the left portion of his chest that looked scarred terribly. Although that wasn't the only one since there were two very long scars on his forearms.

On the lower part, the two scars ran diagonally while one ran horizontally, and on the top of his forearms one ran up to his hands and divided cleanly across. Those scars on his forearms were from the augmentations. The one on his chest though was from the accident on Harvest. It would forever be a reminder to keep himself down, and to never reveal his position in the battlefield ever again when dealing with snipers.

The Titanium nanocomposite bodysuit took approximately 2 minutes and 40 seconds to get on past his shins, thighs, chest, and slip his arms into it's cold features. After that he felt the suit be electrically charged, and tighten around all of the places that were loose. It molded tightly to his skin and the bodysuit but relieved some pressure in some areas. After that, the alloy screws on his back were drilled into each individual holding piece, and the suit was charged again with a small amount of electricity to ease the pressure in certain places. John then was instructed to spread his arms out horizontally.

One of the tired engineers who sat behind a control station in the far right of the room clicked his tongue. He clicked on a few keys on the monitor before saying. "First phase of MJOLNIR: Boots." With that said, he flipped a switch.

John felt himself rise up a bit as the floor slid sideways, showing chief feet slide right into place. One of the scientists came forward and examined John's foot, while an engineer tightened the screws around John's heel. They repeated the same process for the other foot and John shifted his toes a bit.

"Too tight?" The engineer questioned making John shook his head. Since Spartan's could be in their armor for days, maybe weeks at a time. They were going to have to get comfortable when fighting for hours upon hours on end.

"Activating Phase 2: Shin guards."

Then four clunky white robotic arms above came downward in front of chief. Each one held a different section and had to be held by one advanced machine to support it's weight. The two in the front of John held the front pieces, two lowered behind him and held the back pieces. After lowering themselves to his shins, they pressed themselves forward, wrapping around. Two engineers stepped forward holding wired drills connected to the computer and tightened the eight individual bolts. After that the scientist tested the space in between them was sufficient.

"Activating Phase 3: Knee guards."

2 engineers carried the first piece of the knee guard with slight strain. Since one weighed easily 100 pounds and needed to be applied halfway through their height. As they made their stop in front of him, they lowered it to his knee. Two engineers on both sides held drills firmly and spun them into place.

After 3 pure seconds of the drill screwing the bolt in, the same was done to the other side.

"Activating Phase 4: Legs."

The thighs came up from a lower hatch and were connected two lifting units. They rose up a millimeters and stopped directly in front of John's exposed under gel legs. Slowly, they went forward and steadily they pressed against his gel molding, and the other two behind him as well. The 4 engineers then came forward, and secured the bolts into place.

"Activating Phase 5: Lower defense."

One arm below John appeared and another in front of chief only it came up halfway, holding a big crotch protector. It smoothly moved forward and pressed against him. The engineers then tightened the side potion bolts, but not too tight.

Jefferson came toward the computer and said. "Activating Phase 6: wrist protection and shoulder."

The same 4 arms above came down once again only holding different pieces. The pieces for both wrist and shoulder rested on John's arm, and wrapped themselves firmly on. The two engineers stepped forward with the drills and secured them tightly.

"Activating Phase 7: Chest and Back."

Similar white arms from behind and the front came up from the sliding floor, holding Johns two most important components. They both moved forward and strapped themselves. The locking clamps were found directly behind John's shoulder as they went forward, locking. The two engineers didn't need to lock this one since it locked itself with removable clasps.

"Activating Phase 8: Helmet."

Directly over John's head, a single black metal arm came lowering itself downward. The helmet passed down over chiefs head, while an engineer held it steady to make sure no skin got accidentally caught. John blinked his eyes a few times as he noticed the inside of his helmet was still in the dark. The helmet then secured itself around chiefs lower jaw and neck to fasten it. The operated at the computer then said directly to chief.

"We were able to repair the upper frontal damage done to your chest and prop it back into place. Now for your physical health relating to your arteries you should be fine. Although you'll be lucky to live past 60." The doctor said seriously. John however wasn't affected by this news that would have been shocking to most. Since the accident he was having an easier time thinking of his death. He was a soldier meant to go up against an alien race with superior technology with little to no knowledge of them. It was a matter of choosing whether he was going to die or not.

"And now Activating the Final Phase: Charging Armor Battery." Jefferson finished as two engineers propped a large cable into John's back, pushing the 3 cords into the ports. The wiring systems signed with the power supply for it's uses on the HUD and began to rapidly recharge with a low HUM. John then felt a warm sensation over his skin from his toes and to his fingertips. It was the warm feeling that reminded him of the armor he felt absolutely born to be in.

After a semi-charge, the armor hummed as his HUD came to life and showed him all the running numbers and calculations. John frowned a bit when seeing this.

He loathed mathematics since he was a child.

The scientist unplugged the hefty power cord with the assistance of the two other engineers and said to chief. "Your fit and deemed acceptable for duty spartan. Best of wishes." Jefferson finished as the rest of the tired men left the room. Lifting these tools and armor gave them quite the case of fatigue.

John nodded in confirmation as he stepped off the mini scaffolding, sounding even heavier than before. He walked past the scientist and wayward to the bridge through the sliding glass doors.




A fully suited chief walked through the front entry way toward the captain's bridge, getting the sight of hundreds of computer monitors. He walked passed a few navigators seated at their stations without a glance. Some peered their eyes around to get a glance at the supposed super solider, and were quite intimidated at his height. It was new to see them in action, since they first appeared on Harvest with Red Team and Blue team leading the front charge.

John turned the corner and got a glimpse of Admiral Preston.

The man who seemed to win against ever battle engagement. He then made his presence known as he stood behind Admiral Cole by saluting, and saying. "SIR."

With that said, Admiral Preston turned towards John with a serious gaze. "At ease 117. It's good to have you back out of commission." His thoughts of Petty Officer-117 were majorly positive. The man in front of him everything a superior soldier was made of. Full of integrity, struck forward without hesitation, and would make the right choices for the team.

Preston at first was unsure what to think of the Spartan's after they came out so abruptly, but that didn't change his viewpoint of them To him they were soldiers fighting for freedom. He was however stunned at the fact one of the supposed "unkillable" Spartans, was nearly killed himself. However, Spartan-117 must have had some serious luck to have survived that from a medium sized army of covenant. If he could make it from there after a few days, everywhere else wouldn't be a problem.

He stuck his hand forward in formal greeting, which chief returned gratefully.

"Likewise sir." John replied making Preston remember he himself was in the hospital recently for minor health problems, mainly two heart transplants that had failed, along with kidney failure.

"Have we arrived back on harvest?" John questioned until his eyes caught sight of a planet he had not noticed behind admiral Preston through the large stretching vision screens. The planet didn't resemble Harvest in any way, which was first to be seen since Harvest was greener with forests.

Although Harvest was nearly burnt on one side of it from the beginning portions of glassing. Yet this planet was varying in colors for certain areas. Some areas were red, but not in flames. Other areas lower below the world were pure white, as if a blanket of snow covered the entire lower part of the world. It was new to him, he didn't know what the admiral was planning.

"Where are we?" John asked to the vice admiral.

"As you can see... Plans have been altered after we found this." Preston gestured to the front view of the U.N.S.C EVEREST.

"With all do respect Sir, to what?" John asked calmly.

"Simple, we've found absolutely zero traces of Covenant on this world... or U.N.S.C in that matter. The fleet was planning on taking back Harvest, although complications stirred and we're grounded by O.N.I until further notice." Preston explained to chief who became intrigued at this information. "We couldn't get in contact with traffic control, the government, any known trade federations. We can't even sync with this planet communicating systems. In this case we're assuming the planet is uninhabited."

"They're not friendly?" John asked again. He tried to obtain as much information concerning the mission as possible, since that was his duty as squad leader. Also considering the fact it was a rapid change of planning he was going through. Going back to Harvest was what he was told after he exited surgery, and he was getting ready to be deployed. This was a surprise to him.

"We don't know yet. You are though. O.N.I will need to be informed of the finding. Your mission is simple, obtain information concerning the planet's by finding any outpost with a simple internet input key." Preston said. "From their the ship's A.I will be able to figure out populace, government, air quality, anything. One more planet out of the covenant reach is another for us." Preston told chief. If O.N.I allowed it, factories could be built on the terrain and supply trillions of credits for weapons, troops, Spartans, and vehicles.

"After that, you'll be stationed back on Harvest in the next incoming days to reprise your tour. Clear?

"Crystal sir." John answered.

In Preston's mind it was a major benefactor of finding a uninhabited planet. With the UNSC'S economy in full power, it would be a mistake to pass up such an offer. In hindsight though, Preston was more of a "shoot until nothing's left" type of admiral. He didn't believe in money well spent. But he did believe in proper strongholds. With another planet in UNSC control, it would be another target to the covenant however.

There was that part, but re-militarizing the planet should provide them higher leverage in the ongoing economy. Stocks would go higher since the U.N.S.C could need it.

That's if he could get his proposition passed by the office of Naval intelligence. There were many laws and trade routes he would have to follow in order to get the plans of thinking done. The reason why he needed to be on the planet other than the fact it was closer to harvest is because after getting the messages back from Harvest on how big the fleet was. It was scary.

He was going to need a bigger fleet himself. His initial reports were to say in the least very dire. Over 14 super CAS-class assault carriers covering one section of the colony with the numbers of Troop carriers going in the hundreds of thousands. Not to mention the sudden arrival of 3 CSO-class Super-carriers, which were behemoths in compared to the CAS-class assault carriers. One CAS-class assault carrier was 17,540 feet in length, while a CSO-class Super-carrier was 95,013 feet long, with the most powerful energy projection the United Nations Space Command had ever witnessed.

If Preston was smart enough he would gladly call for backup when a trio of the Covenant's most powerful warships that commanded it's fleet appeared.

Harvest's safety was certainly becoming vague.

"This wasn't part of the plan."

It was important to him and would cause him to get in serious trouble if he didn't help. He was deciding to leave this detail out to not worry the rest of the crew, or to stun anyone too far. It seemed the most logical when fear could become the greatest weapon against humans.

"Alright. Go below deck and grab all the equipment you need. We haven't set foot on it yet so we don't know what we're dealing with."

"What about the fleet sir?" John questioned to his authoritative captain.

"We stay put, and contact O.N.I to see it this is a jump start. Now head to the lower deck and ready up in a drop pod. And good luck." Cole dismissed chief as he looked to his data pad after sending a message to earth.

John nodded as he left the large room around the massive array of computers. He didn't question anything. After all orders were orders. It was nauseating to not being able to see the condition of what was happening on Harvest.


[ 2 minutes latter]



John loaded another full clip into the mini sub machine gun as he leaned against the cold metal if an U.N.S.C drop pod. He pulled back the piece of metal back a single millimeter, and the chamber slipped back into it's place. John placed the M7 SMG beside him in a silver case, picked up another one and began loading the bullets into the clips from an ammunition box. After more than 2 minutes he picked up both SMG's and placed them on each of his thigh magnets to support them.

The room, or better yet under region of the ship's drop bay. There were two connecting side platforms around the room, with a massive gaping hole in the center of the room. Above the exit hole were several reinforced impact plating ODST drop pods, being held up by suspension cables.

The room around though lit to the brim with thousands of tiny lights. They were along the floors, walls, and ceilings. Across the walls in the room beside the one chief was in were hundreds of cryo stasis pods lined up against the cold walls with frost escaping the sides. Several of them were left unopened... Many of them were empty, except for at least a dozen on the higher leveled deck.

John had never stayed in a cryo chamber before to go into hyper sleep, but he had trained in one before. The only time he had ever been in one physically was during a training routine for about 24 seconds. Spartans including him were going to have to use one in the near future since the inevitable war would probably last for years.

John gripped a green lockbox, flipped the locking units, and flipped open the case to expose it's contents. Two clean M6C magnums, brand new in fact. The grip looked polished showing the smooth black color of the handle. The smoothness of the dark colored chamber gleamed as John loaded a fresh clip into it, and pulled back the chamber making a bullet slip into the chamber.

He walked around to the drop pod and opened the main dome as he stashed both pistols into the Drop pod side clips. On the left clips there was room for 4 pistols, and 2 SMG's. On the left side a choice of one Sniper Rifle System 99C-S2 Anti-Matériel, or a MA5B assault rifle. Or if John was really needing some heavy duty fire power, he could stash either a M41 rocket launcher, or the disastrous Weapon/Anti-Vehicle Model 6 Grindell/Galilean Nonlinear Rifle (M6 G/GNR) or also known as the Spartan laser.

John decided against the Rocket launcher and the Spartan laser for this tour for a good amount of reasons. It wasn't needed or required at the moment since there was a high chance the planet was probably uninhabited by any threatening life forms. Not to mention they were very, very expensive.

John was currently loading the O.D.S.T drop pod with as much ammunition as possible. After the pass few months with the covenant engagements, he learned they can for a lack of better terms "Eat lead." The shielding systems on Sangelie could empty almost two full clips of an assault rifle. The grunts were bullet sponges with that massive methane tanks on their backs, and the jackals served no better except for the shields.

The Hunters though, were another story however.

Even though there weren't any remote traces from space, there was still the chance of ground forces being present. He wasn't going to excuse the chance of taking what he needed from a bloodbath. John grabbed for two anti-tank grenades in a green UNSC blasting case with his left hand and examined them. It was never bad to double check for a faulty hand grenade, and the last thing he would need is for one to explode in the Pod with him.

One Spartan laser costed about 218,000,000 credits. Now if John bought around 7,266 fragmentation grenades he would be able to properly replace one if it were lost.

Or 4 fully operation gunning warthogs. John didn't make a salary though for his services. Food, clothing, and medical needs were already given to him by the UNSC over the tax payers dollars, or in this case credits.

John loaded an assault rifle into the black metal side clip and pressed it toward the farther side of the compartment to gain a bit more room, and stepped inside the mid sized pod hole. After turning his body around he sat back into the reinforced metal seat cushioning. After sitting down comfortably and making sure he was safely secured, he pressed a few buttons on the side to activate the Pods side micro machines ranging from altitudes, and power levels

The pod had a full navigation, transmitting beacon, and a fully operational transmission processor. If John were to fall into the ocean by an accident, he would have an extended air tank. Even though John's Mk-IV Mjolnir armor had a portable air tank on him, he would still be at the bottom of the water and sink like a stone. Since he was being launched at a designated spot with a landing gear, and the top boosters had an 80% accuracy of arriving on point. Chances of falling in a massive body of water were below par.

Although it could happen.

He pressed the few colored buttons on the left side to shut the pressurized glass dome. It slowly fell downward over chiefs exposed body and locked itself, airtight in fact. On the very side of the glass was a small square screen that lit up and showed the face of Admiral Preston. "Ready spartan?"

"Yes sir." John nodded. "What's the objective?"

"Simple, find any civilization and send out a warning message for return. We'll then proceed to negotiations if not. Harvest is under momentary control and we've sent out half the fleet." Preston said easily making John feel skeptical. After all Fredrick, Kelly, and Linda were alone there.

"A question sir." John said suddenly.


"Is there any information on the rest of Blue team?" John questioned with heavy interest before there was a moment of silence.


"Nothing so far. Bravo division said they were last seen in Alpha base treating the wounded...I'm sure they're fine." Preston claimed to John.

John nodded as he went back to thinking of the mission first hand. "If they're hostile, then what?" John asked as he tried to forget the conflict consuming him currently. He pressed the auto landing gear to take effect when he went into altitudes of 3000 feet. After that the braking chute system on top would hopefully soften his landing, and not make him plummet straight through the planet's atmosphere and into the crust.

While some O.D.S.T's were lucky, some experienced pure hell when they landed straight into battle, and were blown up from covenant fire.

"I think we both know what we do when someone pushes us." Cole easily reminded one of the UNSC's deadliest troops with a tired smile.

"Yeah." John lightly joked in agreement.

"Any other questions?" Preston pressed further to the super soldier.



After that Cole's face disappeared in static. John pressed the red button on the lower right console and the pod began to move forward by an upper tugging cable. It screeched lightly as it steadily moved a nearly 2000 pound load. Since it was designed and used to only carrying normal ODST troops, not walking tanks. The Pod exited out of the ground platform and began approaching the exit deck. It moved forward a few seconds, and in this time chief couldn't stop thinking about his team, and if they were alright.

The pod moved into a large enough gap in the very side of the room, and lodged itself into a chamber.

It rotated clockwise before locking itself into place.

The Pod stopped suddenly.





At first John was expecting to be a smooth descend.

Instead he nearly buckled downward to the back of the seat rest from the sudden explosion of force. The sound of a bellowing cannon went off through the entire interior of the pod and pounded against John's ears. John seethed through the straps holding him in and glanced at the screen right side of him displaying the sudden speed he was going at. He then looked outside through the posts of metal and through the glass, and saw the entrance to the world appearing right before his eyes in a blur. John calmly looked at the digital barometer on the upper left hand side, and saw he was on the right track to a good landing. Since there wasn't any

The outside could be described as a rush of different colors. First he could still see the night sky of outer space, but it slowly began to get brighter and brighter. To where the blue sky became visible. He deduced he had just entered the atmosphere by now.

"Everything green?" An scratchy voice of an engineer asked through the radio.

"Yes." John replied to the young man. Even though majority of him was green.

"Admiral Cole suggested we send down a squadron of marines to cover more ground once you've landed." The man explained through the radio as he cut out.

John shook lightly around inside the massive canister and had his hands at his sides calmly. Training missions involved falling from over a couple hundred feet and safety land with a package. This wasn't different to him. In retrospect however, he was told of Spartan-II armor being able to withstand nearly impossible impacts if the armor was to be locked. John knew how to manually lock his armor, it was by simply thinking its access code and the neutral interface would obey his command. After more than a good minute listening to the screeching sound outside the pod and viewing the light outside get brighter and brighter.

John began to see a crimson forest below with dark oceans coming closer...


[PATCH/ 7:02 AM]


Outside of a small house surrounded by trees, the sun was rising over the mountains and spreading over the land. The sun's radiant rays went over the small two story cottage and showed its red brick design.

Inside a very dark room of the two story house there was the sound of soft snoring. The wallpaper consists of a black paint with red rose petals spreading across it. Weapons varying in shapes and sizes stood proudly in almost every square inch of the medium sized room hanging or leaning in the corner. The room had a dark look to it, while very light but deadly. Some of the red colored furniture that stood next to a window and had little bags of cookies on the very top, but were as empty as can be from the crumbs that laid in the bottom of the plastic bag.

The floor was a normal oak wooden design that was cleanly swept, minus a few shell casings belonging to a sniper rifle sprawling over one left section of the room. In fact, next to the bed was a very imposing black and red colored Scythe, with the hilt resembling a sniper rifle. The large curved stuck out toward the side and stood there looking very shiny from a previous night of getting polished..

On the right side of the room was a wooden white lined window displaying the view of a normal front ward with a sturdy tree, and a swing set and a dog house. The grass covered the yard and a garden of roses and yellow flowers lined the white picket fence. On the dog house a small name could be made out if one looked closely.


Back in the room, there was a bed at the very far corner, and was matted in black and red sheets with pillows tossed off to the side. A large lump could be seen underneath the covers... Along with the sound of very light snoring. When the crimson covers moved suddenly, then came off. The blankets inched their way a few inches off before a small framed body popped out from underneath the blankets.

The person who came out was a girl, considering the frame of her body, petite chest size, and her voice when she snored. She gently rubbed her black hair out of her eyes and revealed she was wearing a black sleeping mask with two red ovals where the eyes should be. A double strapped black tank top with a red heart design, and white baggy pajama pants with a roses design. Her skin was pale white around her face and narrow features. Very pale in fact. Yet she seemed perfectly healthy displaying no sickness.

The girl yawned loudly and got out of bed. Her black hair was revealed to be red tinted along the frame, and her hair slowly cupped around her face. The girl reached up and took the sleeping mask off of her eyes and blinked a few times.

Her eyes were pure silver.

Literally silver iris's. Her eyes were quite big, bigger than any person you would have ever seen. Blinking a few more times to get the morning floaters out of the way, she noticed it was morning, and the smell of pancakes downstairs had woken her up. Her dad was probably making them, or Qrow had visited this morning. Looking over at her beloved weapon, she asked aloud in a squeaky voice full of innocence. "Morning crescent rose. Sleep well?"

The scythe of course didn't answer back.

Her room was decent sized with a few dressers and a large table at the far left of it. The table was made of sturdy dark wood and had stacks of papers with crude drawings of weapon designs. On the far corners of her desk were small tool boxes saying "Don't touch" in red writing. Over on her left hand side of her bed was a tall night stand with an alarm clock. Although it seemed to be unplugged at the moment.

On the left side was her weapon leaned against the wall with a few empty metal boxes propped up against it. It currently lacked a blade since it had folded inward. After 4 hours the night before of adding some modifications to the barrel of the gun on it needed to remain open otherwise it would stick.

Her room smelled like a strawberry bomb had went off. Although there was the mixes scent of metal with plastic from her tools kits and the aroma of an indescribably perfume that sat on her dresser next to a blue and black magazine titled "WEAPONS MONTHLY".

As you could probably deduce... Ruby had a very high liking for weapons and anything with dangerous designs.

Her family came from a long generation of Huntresses and Huntsmen against the evil and mostly unknown forces of Grimm. Her father, Taiyang, was a huntsmen when he was a younger but now had retired to raise his children. Her mother was a huntress, and even her own sister is a huntress who is currently attending one of Vale's most gifted schools for Hunters and huntresses.

The young girl wanted to be a huntress more than anything since there lives were filled with adventure and going off to be heroes.

However, her biological mother, Summer Rose, was tasked with a mission in the further regions of Patch. She left one day but never came back. Search parties were sent for her after 4 days of nothingness. It all changed when they found her bloodied cloak amongst a pile of bones. It was automatically assumed she was mauled to death that day by a group of beowolves, after proving there were simply too many.

The young girl was too young to remember much of what happened, but she was still saddened. In all honesty, she loved her mother but she was simply too young to comprehend the tragedy while everyone else around her mourned terribly. After that incident, her father became more protective of her, and so did her sister. What truly inspired her, was the stories her sister Yang read to her when she was a toddler and up. Some of her fondest memories was the fairy tales she read and hear some her mother at a stove making her famous chocolate chip cookies.

Even though Ruby didn't remember her much, she was described as a "Super mom".

Summer was the warmest person you could ever imagine once you got to know her. Summer met her future husband Taiyang when they were paired in the same team in Beacon. The team consisted of Summer, Taiyang, Qrow, and another student that was never really mentioned that often.

She often asked but the question was pushed aside. Many years after that Taiyang sealed the knot with another woman, and they both had a daughter, her sister Yang... But one day she left Taiyang and never came back to Yang ever again.

Well, his sadness didn't last for long when he met Summer again after so many years. Reminiscing things happened locked from their youth in Beacon and they married...

And soon they had a daughter as well, Ruby.

The young girl was named Ruby Rose. Her name derived for her favorite color being red, and her mother thinking the name fit her perfectly. Ruby was a very exuberant girl with a fondness for anything soft and cuddly like her corgi Zwei, and anything that was extremely dangerous such as firearms along with sharp weapons.

This could probably be told from the weapon schematic magazines littering one fourth of her book shelves. Her love for weapons originated. From well her family. Since her family were all hunters and huntresses she was prone to be around weapons a lot in her childhood and still would be. Anything that could fire straight through a Nevermores skull was amazing to her...

Ruby folded her white sheet blankets into the corners of her mattress, ruffled her pillow to make it look neat and tidy. While her father was overprotective of his daughters, he was also strict on certain chores. Today was Ruby's last week at her current school, Signal. Reasons of her departure were quite simple really to her but sounded crazy to numerous people. It was the fact she skipped a few grades. Not one but two whole grades. The reasons for that since Signal was the beginning stages of Huntresses, and weapon designs were about 75% of your grade. She scored 150% in the weapons designing department and was in need of sniper rifle shells.

A ride to Vale was quite far from here, and she never traveled far from home. As Ruby walked by her clear window to take a shower.

In the sky, something sparkled a bit and left a long dark trail...

She had just missed the glimpse of a shooting star in the morning sky as it went past the oceans view...

Or that's what she would have thought at first if she had seen it...




The pod buckled and rang about in the sky as the outer shell protected John on the inside. Scorching Flame Roasted around the pod, giving it the effect of a falling star from space. Since ODST could drop through space, chances of burning up would be evident if not for the outer coating of reinforced plating. John looked through the narrow glass dome and drifted his eyes downward to the altitude level.

2590 feet left to go as the number descended faster and faster over the small green numbers.

Right now he was easily falling at 200 mph, since the added on weight contributed to the velocity he would be plummeting and being shot out of a cannon contributed to that. John eyed the outside in front of him and couldn't make out the fast paced details, but looked at the screen to see his rapid approach to the ground.

After a couple of seconds of quickly cutting the air as his pod fell, he saw he had nearly passed the mark of no return, so he quickly lifted the manual parachute switch on the upper center. On the very top outside, a metal pole with four individual flat metal flaps extended outward and pulled the pod up slightly. This made it slow down the dive into the field. Not much though but just enough.

John buckled a bit from the force and began to count in his mind. When rapidly entering different zones at hundred feet per second, he needed to controls breathing in order to stay awake otherwise he would pass out. He slowly began from 10 and counted down. Also taking notice that he would be impacting the ground any second now.





John's chin scraped against his chest as the pod hit the ground roughly gaining a rough tugging on all sides. Crashes and clanks rang throughout the small manhole he felt like he dug himself into as John rattled a bit. The pod rolled a few more ties feet before smashing into something that sounded like stones. John felt his sides roll along with the pod as it leaned back against the very right part of it.

And then silence.

John shook his head as he cleared his mind. He looked around the pod and noticed 3 noticeable things. It was pitch black inside, he was on leaning on his left arm, and there was a buzzing sound coming from the front of him. Looking to the front of the hatch, John saw a commission trying to be sent through to him on the transmission.

But it surprisingly ended before he could answer it. Now in all honesty, that was easier than he thought. Originally, he suspected the landing to be much worse. Looking through the glass that was scrapped, it was too dusty to see anything from the dirt covering it. After that he examined to see if all his weapons were present, and they were all still in their designated places.

He looked at the small hatch in front of him and looked for the release latch. Above him he quickly grabbed it and pulled it down.

A bit too rough as it came off and onto his lap. After that mistake he mentally reminded himself of his super strength. But an easy idea popped into his head. He pulled his boot back a few millimeters from the hatch - and kicked it straight off the double hinges with very little force. It flew a few feet before getting caught in the dirt and becoming embedded in an upward fashion with the dome cracked.

The first thing he saw when he was met by pure light. Then there was pure black bark trees with the most red color leaves covering the area for miles. He slowly climbed out and stood up to observe the quiet, peaceful scenery. It honestly felt good to be... Outside in the dirt. For the last 3 weeks it was in and out of surgery and once in awhile for easy training. Those weeks were bad. He felt completely useless and angry during those times. John spent most of his time on the field in his armor, since he was a hands on type of guy.

The outdoors were the places he felt most solace than anywhere else. Drifting his eyes upward to the sky he noticed something very strange. It had an odd light pinkish color to it, making him confused since he had never seen any planet with that type of sky color this early in the morning, and looking down made him even more disoriented. The plants around his green boots were red as well. The cool air rang past his armor's sensory and made him feel as if it were autumn.

"Strange." John muttered to himself through the few gusts of wind. A few red leaves plucked themselves from the branch and began to fall from above, and softly planted themselves on John's shoulder plate. He walked forward to the pod to inspect it and letting the red leaves land next to a dandelion in a patch of red grass. Looking over carefully, everything on the Pod seemed to be in place and nothing visibly damaged minus the under hull from the minor impact.

He looked back to the pod on its side and saw he landed near a heavy cobblestone that was cracked heavily. Shrugging his back, John leaned down and dug his fingers underneath the pod and began pulling upward.

The metal screech lightly for a moment at the pressure being forced below, before John laid it back down on its bottom and leaned it up against the remainder of the stone. Looking inside, he grabbed for the two fragmentation grenades, both SMG's as he strapped them to his thighs, and then he took the assault rifle. He looked back to see his pistols were still in there but he couldn't carry anything else. If any Marines decided to follow then they would have some ammunition.

"Have you landed without problem?" Preston's voice asked through John's communicator. "Affirmative." John acknowledged back as he observed the area with rifle in hand and careful eyes.

"We've managed to locate a large city not too far from you. You're going to begin surveying the area around on foot while we prepare a few pelicans to get in contact with officials. If any exist however." He finished before stating. "Some of our navigating patrols have also noticed the lands large amounts of animals in the area." Cole said.

"Animals?" John questioned confused. Was he talking about small animals like deer, elk, moose, bears, hedgehogs, foxes, or badgers? Animals to him were not very interesting subject.

He looked over to his left when he heard something odd. He tuned again as he caught something on his scanner. When he looked right over his shoulder he caught sight of a something red and a mostly black blur. He hid behind the stone as he saw two people blur through the forest. His vision was highly sensitive to rapid movement that he could see clearly.

"Not just any animals, but undetermined. They don't seem to be normal. While one of the screens shots are blurry they caught sight of large, black, creatures roaming the area around you. Mainly twenty meters due north. We also saw one with what appears to be bones. Almost as if it were armor on the outside of it's skull. I would highly recommend heavy caution, many of them look troubled." Preston confirmed as he watched the hazy screen.

"I understand." John answered back as he heard whistle blow the distance. It sounded... Off to him. Almost like that was something he hadn't heard in a long time. John observed the area where two were running from but couldn't see anyone anymore since they had quite literally, disappeared into the forest.

Drifting his vision through the endless maze of trees, he became aware he wasn't alone in the forest. Raising his rifle forward he squinted in the direction they had run into and looked ...Until he made out two individual specks. He blinked when thought he saw in the distance...His eyes scanned closer, and his helmets reading enhanced the picture. After looking nearly 56 meters across the area he finally got a picture of two people standing beside a cliff.

One person that seemed to be a woman from the stature of her physical features with long black hair, and had a black bow on her head. Her stockings were black with a purple tint and on the woman's feet were black boots cut off at her ankles. Also she wore a black dress front cut since there were two pieces of cut cloth hanging around her waist over her lower back. He couldn't make out the rest of her front part since all he could see was her back. The other was very tall man and had red hair and was wearing a black outfit and carrying a long "Sir, I picked up two unknown readings."

"Human?" Preston asked suddenly. On most unknown worlds there was some sort of abnormal race.

"Affirmative. Transmitting visual." John said to the admiral with high confirmation as he clicked a small button under his neck where it began to record anything.

"Are they important?" Preston questioned to the super soldier. "Yes. Both are armed with swords and moving un-accordingly." John said as he took a few steps out of the thick brush.

Seeing marines and navy carrying assault rifles was a normal occurrence to him. Seeing two random civilians run in forests with long swords. Not normal.

"I would wait and see 117. After all, every world has a different again waiting could lead to something we could have missed. Alright change of plans." Preston breathed out.

Whenever he had a feeling of something bad to happen, 98% of the time he was correct. "Follow them and observe from afar, do not engage until I say so. The penalty of attacking could spur another massacre we don't have time for." Preston reminded the petty officer with the last part being very important.

"Understood." John vocalized as he started with a mild jog through the trees toward the two individuals amongst the oncoming forest. John quickly rushed past a few crimson topped trees speedily while keeping the sound emitting from his jogging at a minimal. He didn't need anyone suspecting his presence now and the risk of a firefight. At a moment he thought he lost them until he looked past another tree.

He spotted the two as they stopped at a cliff suddenly. Thinking they heard him, he hid behind one of the thicker dark trees on the right with his back firmly pressed against it. A few leaves dropped from above and slowly fell on chief as he lowered his assault rifle downward and out of danger. Clearing his mind, he listened carefully to the sounds around and beyond. It was easy once you tuned out the sound of both your heart and breathing rate.

Those two sounds were hard to pass by.

After enough concentration and hard training, it was easy as blinking.



But after listening overhead for a few brief moments he swore he heard an engine... and a big one was booming not far. Not to forget the sound of a medium high whistle blowing. Peeking around the corner he saw the two people jump off the cliff. This made him curious as well as confused at such behavior.

John nearly said something to Cole, but was cut off as a voice in his communicator said. "CAPTAIN! LEFT SIDE!" A voice yelled in the background over on the other end.

John instinctively began to walk over to the edge of the cliff, and for a few brief moments he expected anything... Truthfully unsure what he was in for. Covenant could be ruled out since if they were here this planet would have been a burning ball by now.

The insurrectionists could be here perhaps. Although they travel and never stood in one area long, they had to keep moving. The only places they attacked were UNSC related and colonized planets to cleanse. Furthermore they received a massive blow without their leading commanders who was captured previously. He stepped closer and closer to the edge as his boots crushed the moist dirt and red grass.

He gazed over the edge and saw pure sharp red mountains very far in the distance, along with large black birds flying overhead, and read the air temperature was 71° Fahrenheit with a wind speed of 5-10 mph North/west direction...

He finally made it to the very top of the steep ledge, and looked down to see...

A massive car with 16 wheels on each side connected by a steel piece.

It was a locomotive.

He traveled for an unknown train.

Looking down, the long black train traveled with an unknown amount of cargo along a raised bridge. Looking at the far left to see how many more cars it had, he counted precisely 63. He also noticed the train was travelling incredibly fast, almost 323 mph. Quite fast in chiefs eyes but not the fastest moving vehicle he had ever seen. Trains in this technological degree were normally outdated and this one he was seeing would more than likely be placed in a museum for natural history achievements.

Chief caught glimpse of white writing on one part of the fast paced train cars rumbling down the tracks like a bullet.

Almost like a blur.

He squinted his eyes but only caught one word as it sped away from him. It was hard to make out with how fast it was moving.

But if he deduced it correctly.

It read from what he could recollect: "SCHNEE."

Not knowing what to look for or if that was relevant, he turned his head to the right and saw the same two individuals on top of one carefully balancing themselves even though the speed they were going at should have thrown them off.. After that he knew they were up to no good. Since when do people jump on moving trains through the roof? Zooming in with his enhancements, he saw the first man raise the long staff overhead, and break an upper hatch. He lifted it, and jumped inside.

What were they up to?

"Admiral, I believe there's a hijacking in process." John said while keeping a stoic attitude. In hindsight, he knew something was up with this area.

Something wasn't looking right.

"On what?" Preston asked without looking up on the monitors from the other end.

"A train." John answered through the small microphone.

"Sir." John asked aloud. The train car number were dwindling and the two targets. Or suspects were going to escape.

"Repeat what you-

"They're getting away." John quickly warned. While not knowing what he was getting into, he had suspicious feeling of why on earth someone would try to jump on the top of a moving train. Preston on the other line debated with himself for a few seconds on whether what he was thinking was substantial.

He gut told him to do so.

"Permission granted." Preston ordered to the spartan, and he felt something be lifted off his shoulders strangely.

John looked down at the long steep hill and concentrated on how he would get down and on top of a moving train car without plummeting straight through the bridge. It was around a 30 meter drop from here to the tracks, if he missed it would be a 70 meter drop.

If he had a evade pack or jump booster that would have sufficed. But he tossed cautioned into the wind and had to improvise. Guessing how steep it was and how heavy his weight would carry him, John took a few steps backwards.

And leaped feet first over the edge toward the speeding motor rail.


And that is how our story Begins, and ends from there until next time...