The brain shuts down when reaching a stage in the recharging process, most commonly known as sleep. The synapses calm down and the electric impulses become less and less frequent. The brain reaches a tranquil and metabolic state in which it can begin to repair the used and abused nerves that were overstimulated throughout the course of the day.

When one reaches this state, they enter into a rem state in which their consciousness gives way to the subconsciousness. Memories and desires play out across the dreamscape in an endless and confusing stream. No one knows why we dream, just that we do. I forgot what it was like to dream. One of the nasty physiological effects of the brutal conditioning we were subjected to for the duration of the training program.

When I sleep, it's like reality skipped to the point of my awakening. Nothing to fill the gap between entering the regenerative trance and waking to the land of the living. No memories or outlandish dreams and no sense of time either. Just a single moment of the blackness behind my eyelids and then the morning light to greet the retinas just as it was now.

Thin beams of light pierced their way through the buffer that was the blinds. The spiteful rays of the morning sun rested themselves upon my opening eyes rousing me from my slumber. My eyelids shut instinctively as the pupils were forced to painfully contract and restrict the amount of harsh light allowed to the retinas. My face scrunched up in discomfort at the unpleasant feeling.

The synapses started firing and the memories of yesterday registered slowly at first, then gaining momentum until coming to a sudden stop at the realization that the covenant was here, wherever here was. That ship was here and was more than likely harboring a threat the likes of which this Humanity has never experienced, nor should they.

I brought that ship here with me. It's only here because of me. If it becomes operational and they start their genocidal crusade anew, everyone's blood will be on my hands because not only did I bring it here, I would have failed at stopping it.

Another memory, one of the upcoming mission and of the conversation held in the War Room with the heads of the Vanguard. New objectives in the forefront of my mind, I set about getting ready. The first thing was the meticulous donning of the MJOLNIR armor followed by a quick weapon check. After affirming that both the armor and the weapons were functioning at peak efficiency, aside from the lack low ammo count, I left my quarters.

The hallway was devoid of motion. The others must either already be up or are still resting after the previous day's ordeals. Better to let them sleep if that was the case. The Covenant was a daunting task to undertake and we were going to need every edge and advantage we could get if we were to achieve the best possible outcome.

The elevator chimed as it reached its destination, and my finger ceased to hover over the call button. The doors slid back and a blonde woman with a surefire grin stood inside, Amanda Holliday.

"Just the armored giant I was looking for." Her grin seemed to widen further as I stepped inside the compartment. A slight tip of the helmet was enough indication for her to continue. "You still need a ship, and you were on one hell of a waiting list. However, it seems that you've got friends in high places since as of last night you were bumped up the list all the way to top. Care to explain?"

If she wasn't informed of the upcoming mission, then it must be on a need to know basis.

"Upcoming mission star side. Can't ride shotgun forever." That was as close to the truth as she was going to get, and that seemed to satisfy her curiosity.

"Well I've got one all lined up, but it's not pretty. Lots of ships were lost in the defense, so for the time being ships are being cobbled together as quickly as possible. It'll work but it looks like a hunk of junk."

She seemed almost ashamed to admit that. This woman was one of the few who truly took pride in her work, and nothing less than the absolute best wouldn't cut it. But necessity came before pride, and the city needed ships as fast as they could get them. I could understand that. Everything leading up to the fall of Reach left the UNSC's stockpiles and armories near empty. They were forced to militarize all industrial factories, civilian or otherwise, in order to keep the troops supplied. Most of the newly manufactured weapons had a print on the seal of the UNSC, and a quick coat of paint, nothing more. No serial number, no extra features, just the bare minimum.

The elevator emptied out into the hangar. The cavernous room was never dull with activity it seemed. There was a slew of worker bots slaving away on a ship with blowtorches in the corner. Some were hauling crates around, and others were trying to complete a larger array of tasks. The triage was gone, more than likely moved down to the medical wing where they could manage the injured to a safer degree, but the evidence of its presence still stained the deck of the hangar. A lonely bot was left to mop up the mess.

None of this fazed Amanda. She was in her element, her home turf, and she had no problems showing that off. With her arms raised up in a dramatic pose, she surged forward, undeterred by the chaotic scene.

"Welcome to the Hangar once more. Don't mind the mess. My cleaning crew has had to step up to meet the giant workload that was befallen my poor self." She was smirking at this point and sarcasm was practically oozing from her mouth. I could feel a smile tugging on the edge of my lips.

"Seems like he's got it under control." I nodded over to the mopping droid. She followed the movement and laughed when she saw the implication.

"Fair enough. Anyways...let's get you acquainted with your ship." She walked down the line of docked ships, most of which were undergoing repairs or maintenance until she stopped in front of the last bay in the line. Docked in the cradle was what could only be described as a junker. The ship was relatively flat. The nose extended out a few meters from the body of which the cockpit sat. The body extended into a set of wings with boosters situated on the underbelly. The back of the ship housed a single thruster, this one larger than the other two. From my standpoint, there wasn't a visible weapon system to be had. The whole thing was painted in a spotted black with an aging orange stripe running across the span of the wings.

"Well, this is it." Amanda gestured toward the craft.

"What is it capable of?"

"Interstellar travel. That's about it."

"Weapons?"

"Notta."

"Armor?"

"Uh-uh."

"So what does it have?" This was starting to sound like a bad joke.

"It's got an engine." She chuckled.

I gave a pointed look beneath my helmet. I know she said she was cobbling them together as fast as she could, but I thought it would at least have some sort of weapon system or offensive, hell even defensive functionality of some sort. She must have sensed the disappointment radiating off of me.

"Look, I did the best I could in the timeframe that I was given. After you finish your mission, bring it back and we can properly outfit it. What do you say?"

With nothing to lose and everything to gain, I accepted her offer.

"So when will it be mission ready?"

"Honestly, it's ready right now. Just need to refuel the engine and charge the batteries. Shouldn't take more than five minutes."

"Good, I'll be back in 20. I've got to stock up on supplies and wake up my team."

I walked through the rest of the hangar to the entrance to the Tower's plaza. The area was still as busy as it was when the City was under siege. Large crates of ammo and weapons laid about in stacks. Guardians going to and fro. Dropships docking for a few moments before rapidly departing. The aftermath of a battle is just as chaotic as the fight itself.

I needed bullets and lots of em. The gunsmith was more than happy to provide what I needed. Five mags for my rifle and another three for my pistol. With a few words of thanks, I departed for the War Room.

"I want every engineer and tech we have on the wall. Cayde, we'll need Guardians in the field to act as an early warning system until we can get the sensory grid up and running again. Double shifts on the wall and the gun emplacements need to be reinforced." Zavala was listing off a number of tasks to the others present in the room.

"Why bother. We kicked their butts hard enough the first time; I doubt they'll be back for seconds." The Exo's voice was filled with amusement.

"Make no mistake Cayde. They will be back. No one amasses such a strong force only to be pushed back after a single siege. They WILL be back." Ikora scolded Cayde.

The Hunter seemed to take the hint. "I'll get teams into position four miles out from the wall."

"Good, have them report in every hour on the hour. If we don't hear from them, then we have to assume that the enemy has taken the initiative." Zavala interrupted the staring contest between the two leaders.

"Sirs," I spoke up, gathering the collective attention of the room.

"Six, you're earlier than expected," Ikora spoke first.

The internal clock inside my helmet only read as 6:46 in the morning.

"Sir, reporting in as mission ready." I gave off a crisp salute. Zavala gave a nod of approval.

"Good. Cayde, if you will…" Cayde pulled up a hologram of the Covenant Warship.

"The target's status hasn't changed. As soon as your team is ready, you are to depart for the mission AO. Talk to Shaxx before you leave Shax before you leave to secure the explosives for the mission." Zavala's tone was dismissive. I snapped off a quick salute and turned to head up the stairs.

"And Six, one more thing. Do not fail. You already know what the enemy is capable of." Ikora's tone was firm.

I gave a nod of acknowledgment and left the room. Shax was busying himself with someone on the other end of a comlink. The Titan looked no less ridiculous or worse for wear. His helmet still bore horns on either side; one was sheared off leaving only the stub. His shoulders were covered in a thick animal fur. His plating was as shiny as it could be, and if you looked at it right, it would reflect the overhead lighting giving him an almost glowing appearance.

"I know Sergeant, but we need your team on that wall ASAP. Grab some stims from medical and get out there….Everybody is tired, but lives are depending on us. Now do your job!" Shaxx cut the link and silence reigned. I stood by passively in a parade rest stance waiting for him to address me.

After a quiet sigh, he turned to me. "Sorry about that Guardian. Zavala has me coordinating the defense with the soldiers while he handles the Guardians. Anyways, what do you need from me?"

"I need an explosive device strong enough to destabilize a shielded reactor core per Zavala's orders." Shaxx gave out a low whistle.

"That's quite the requisition. Don't suppose you want to tell me why you need something like that?"

"Upcoming mission. Need it to blow up an enemy cruiser from the inside."

"That's nice and all, but the Fallen don't use reactors to power their engines. So who's ship are you blowing up?" Shaxx now had his arms crossed over his shiny breastplate. He wasn't going to give those charges until I answered.

"Awoken found an unidentified ship on the outskirts of their sensor grid. That ship was the one that I detonated the device on that brought me here. IF and WHEN that ship becomes operational, the Fallen will be the least of your worries. I need those charges to blow that ship before that happens. Zavala already cleared the mission, and as soon as you cough up the explosives we leave."

"Now that I can believe. I'll send the order downstairs. They'll bring up the charges and meet you in the hangar before you leave. Can't have you walking around the Tower with that kind of firepower." He typed into his console, presumably the requisition order, and gave me a dismissive nod.

I turned and left for the plaza.

The internal alarm blared incessantly. The damned thing never ceased to disappoint. My systems booted up automatically. The morning, it seems, could not wait, and neither could my body. With a begrudging sigh, I opened my eyes and lifted myself from the bed. Alicia was waking as well in the bed next to mine. We always set our systems to "wake" at the same time. We started our morning routine.

Alicia would check with her Ghost to see if any updates came up. I checked with my own before going into the bathroom to shower. Exos didn't need showers, but some of us liked to take them if only to obtain some sort of semblance with our fellow Humans. After my shower, Alicia took hers. Weapons needed cleaning before the upcoming mission, so I set down on the small couch in the pseudo-living room.

After a while, Alicia came out of the shower and plopped down next to me on the couch. She produced her beloved rifle and began recalibrating her scope. After her Ghost recovered the weapon, she was less than pleased to find that Six had changed the settings on it during the siege outside the wall. We worked in silence for at least five minutes. It was comfortable, the silence, and we felt no need to break it.

"So…. Six wasn't particularly happy yesterday."

"No, he definitely wasn't. I'm guessing whatever this mission is, is what has him worked up."

"He made that much clear. Did you see how he was moving? He was so tense; almost like he was ready to rip someone's head from their shoulders.."

"With any luck, this mission will be an easy one and he'll go back to being...less angry. Besides, we still have bigger problems. That mysterious Fallen faction that attacked the City is still out there."

"I know what you mean, but if the Vanguard believes that this needs to be prioritized over them then it must be serious," Lily spoke as she finished scrubbing a particularly stubborn patch of dirt from the frame of her rifle.

"Either way, Six failed to pass along any details on the mission, like when we leave," Alicia spoke.

A resounding knock threatened to break the door to their shared quarters.

"Alicia, Lily. It's Six. We deploy in ten. Get your gear and meet us down in the hangar." A few thunderous steps going down the hall signaled the leave of the armored warrior.

"Guess that answers your question," Lily spoke with a smirk. And with a sigh of my own, I grabbed my gear and followed her out the door.

The two other members of the team seemed to be roused from their sleep in likewise fashions if the idle threats about what Jaguar would do to Six if he should continue to interrupt her beauty sleep in the future. Her vivid descriptions left Reagan aghast in the hallway as she stormed past.

If we were to deploy so soon then we would need to hurry down to the hangar. I took the lead of the procession and the rest followed after. The elevator was barely wide enough to accommodate all of us, but we managed to position ourselves in a way that left enough space to breathe. The one who deemed such an early awakening was nowhere inside the elevator, however; presumably he had left on a prior lift.

The assumption held true when the elevator gave way to the sights and smells of the Hangar bay of the Tower. The towering metal man stood at the far end talking with Amanda presumably over the upcoming mission.

"Six, you know the playing field better than us. What are we expecting in there?" Reagan's voice broke through their conversation.

Without turning to him, "Heavy resistance and close quarters. They send in the cannon fodder to flush out the enemy or exhaust their ammo. Then comes auxiliary support follows in the usual form of shield-bearing avians followed the higher ranking officers. Most covenant weapon systems use a weaponized form of highly ionized gas creating a plasma like discharge effect capable of melting though most any materials. I would strongly suggest high caliber weapons suitable for close quarters. However...you should fare well with your current choice in weapons."

"Right, I guess we're ready to depart when you are."

"Then we leave immediately. The longer the Covenant have to prepare the harder it will be to breach the ship. Amanda if you'll excuse us we have a mission." The small blonde gave a knowing smirk and stepped back a safe distance from the launch platform. The others clambered into their respective craft and prepared for departure.

A dark gauntlet proceeded my entry into the simple craft followed by one that emanated mechanical whirls as the fingers encompassed around the provided hand holds. The seat groaned in protest under my armored frame, but it held nonetheless.

The cockpit canopy slid down into place and pressurized with a hiss. A flick of a few switches and the heads up display powered on followed by the low whine of the engines. "Com check. All callsigns sound off."

Everyone was ready to go. "Solid copy. Tower Control...Fire Team Sundown requesting green light for mission departure. Heading three one five by six zero two. How copy?"

"Tower Control copies all. Good luck and happy hunting." Happy hunting? No...there was nothing happy what was going to happen in the next few hours. But a hunt. Yes, this was hunting. An old fight will be rekindled anew once more.

Pushing the throttle forward lead the ship to rocket out of the hangar. Others followed the ship's fusion drives contrails into orbit.

"Commence FTL transition on my mark to the following coordinates." I uploaded the destination specifics to the others via the team broadband.

"What the hell is FTL?" The inquiry belonged to Jaguar.

"I think he means get ready to make the jump to the mission."

"Ah. So that's what it's called where you come from."

The ship shuddered under the strain of power being stored up for the impending overclocking of the engines. Just when the cockpit felt like it going to buckle under the strain, it gave one final quake and then slowed to a stop. A systems check revealed that a stabilizer strut that supported the cockpit had broken loose under the stress of the engines.

A few seconds later, the radar lit up with friendly IFF beacons in a loose formation just behind. Ahead lay a sprawling asteroid field inside of an encompassing emission nebula composed of saturated purples and glowing lavenders. Deeper in the shifting aura, hulking masses of derelict ships floated without direction; occasionally they would collide with another object, and break apart into smaller debris.

"The objective is just ahead, through the asteroid field. Let's make this quick. Keep your eyes open; last time I was onboard, most of their ships were deployed, but it's protocol to keep a contingent behind for security."

The debris field had cleared away enough to allow an unimpeded glance at the warship. The purple hull was rented and pockmarked with multiple dents and collapsed bulkheads. The Savannah never made it through the shields before she went down in flames so it stands to reason that the damage was induced by the debris field it now found itself floating amongst. The engines were still destroyed. The hulking propulsion drives were blackened with explosive discharge residue left over from the Sabre's hydra missile system. The ship was dark in terms of lighting. In fact, there didn't seem to be any signs of life aboard. They may have suffocated inside the confines of the crippled vessel or they were still regrouping however unlikely that may be. The more probable option would be that they're working on restoring key internal functions, and repairing breaches in the hull from the inside before they even worry about going EVA for the engines.

"Follow my lead. There's an exterior entryway atop the vessel." I guided the flight yoke forward, and the ship subsequently followed. The debris field wasn't too bad in terms of simple navigation for smaller ships. Dead in the water cruisers seemed to have much less luck it would seem.

The shield barrier that acted as an airlock was currently off, most likely disabled during the slip space jump like most of the other electronics. It could also be that they just rerouted the power to a more important system elsewhere. The Sabres that were formerly left atop the platform now floated aimlessly amongst the debris bouncing off the asteroids and the purple hull. The artificial gravity must be off as well.

The ships came down in a rough semicircle atop the platform. It served as a grim reminder of what had already happened. Pushing such thoughts aside for the moment, I disengaged the engines, and they powered down from a dulled roar to a low whine. The canopy disengaged and popped open with a hiss. The sound became muted as the vacuum was allowed inside. The others were already waiting on the platform while their ghosts began to scan the area with gusto. I unslung my rifle and chambered a round before joining the others. Lily gave nod to her Ghost, and it phased out. The ships powered up and removed themselves from the ship. Hopefully, their Ghosts would hide the ships well enough in the debris field that should the Covenant restore the cruiser's weapon systems that they would go unnoticed.

The others got the message. It was time to execute the plan. They unslung their weapons and racked them.

"This hatch will drop straight down to communications hub. From there we should be able to make it to the hangar. We'll need to make our way through a series of connecting hallways that branch out from the main corridor that lines the ship. The reactor room is located at the center of the aft section for defensive purposes so we have a lot of ground to cover. It's imperative that we refrain from drawing as much attention as possible for a long as we can manage. If we do come under fire, then you need to make your shots count. The Covenant has numbers on us, and our ammo won't last in sustained engagements."

"So you don't believe they're are dead. I mean... the ship is damaged nearly beyond repair, and the awoken have been monitoring it for any signs of life for the past week only to come up with nothing. I don't think that we have too much to worry about." Alicia's Ghost was directly voicing their opinions on the situation.

"Whether or not they're alive inside remains to be seen. However, we should proceed with the utmost care." Jaguar chimed in. Reagan also nodded his assent. With the team in tow, I descended into the ship.

The inside was dark. The interior lights were out completely. Not even the auxiliary lights for emergency lighting were on. A layer of frost covered the deck and the walls. This area must have been flash breached during the jump. The EMP that the FTL drive generated could have fried the shielded hatch thus venting the atmosphere from the deck. Muted thunks sounded off behind me. The others had jumped in after me with weapons at the ready. No signs of life existed inside the small room. The only indication that this part of the ship had once been inhabited was evidence of a previous engagement. Bullet holes pockmarked the paneling in random patterns. Parts of the deck were warped and twisted from the plasma discharge. Brass casings flitted about in the vacuum without care.

Without giving signal, we pressed forward. The alien walls that once seemed to pulse with energy as if the ship was alive were now dimmed and quiet under a layer of frost. Crates of supplies and foreign weapons stayed latched to the deck while smaller effects floated about aimlessly. The minor inconveniences were batted to the side as I strode forward. My motion tracker wasn't picking up anything but us. Still, I strained all my senses in anticipation of an ambush. So far nothing had shown signs of life. The ship was early quite.

The end of the room was marked by a locked down bulkhead. The purple interface was without its usual glow. The soft magenta highlights that lined the panels across the door were without power. My fist shot up into the air, and the team took up defensive positions around the door.

"The door doesn't have enough power to function. We'll have to take an alternate route, and bypass it."

"Hang on. Ghost, see what you can do." Jaguar's Ghost materialized over her shoulder and lingered there for a second. His faceplate rotated back and forth, almost as if he was mulling over something. The tiny machine propelled himself over to the interface. A bright light shot out from within his center and impacted with the holographic display. It was short; no longer than a two-second burst quickly followed up with another two varying in duration.

The door took on a lighter hew. The magenta highlights grew in intensity until they hummed with power. The interface fizzed out for a half second before it came back online at maximum power. The overhead hatch responsible for venting this portion of the deck was suddenly cut off with a thick plated panel. The auxiliary deck lights lit up. The frost gradually started to dissolve into water molecules which then condensed, and bubbled around the room. The entire deck came to life as the power once more hummed through the walls. All the while, Jaguar's Ghost was in a panic. His "face" spun this way and that as if he was reading a sub-display of the interface. He quickly retreated back to the safety of his Guardian.

"What did you do?" I hissed out. The grip on my rifle was near strangling.

"I...may have tripped a subroutine in the system. I tried to restore power to the door, but as soon as I entered the system it tripped the failsafe. Life support and power have been restored to this deck, and any hull breaches have been sealed with bulkheads...if I understood their system that it is…."

"Goddammit. We just lost our cover. They know we're here. We need to move quickly before they lock down the deck." I pressed on through the now newly working door. It hummed in acknowledgment, and the panels parted in three section before retracting into the crevice of the door frame.

"Wait a second Six. We need to rethink this. If they're even still alive, then wouldn't it make sense to head back to the ships, and breach from another point. It might throw them off a bit, and give us an opening." Alicia was trying to come up with a more sensible plan that wouldn't require them engaging in brutal CQC.

"Wouldn't matter. They're tracking our position right now. The ship is fitted with counterinsurgency bio tracking tech. They'll know where we are in real time. Moving to another breach wouldn't through them off by much unless we entered through the opposite end of the ship. Even still that would put us farther away from the reactor core then we currently are."

They said no more and followed in tense silence. They may not like the plan, it wasn't the best strategy ever devised after all, but with a Spartan taking point, their chances would drastically increase in their favor. The Guardians were a tough crowd in their own right. The abilities they posed, the explanation of which I could not fathom, set them, leagues, apart from the average soldier. But they were sloppy. They had an innate ability to survive devastating amounts of damage, even after their physical bodies gave out on them. Their Ghost could quite simply put, revive them from the dead. It had something to do with their "light" or at least it followed the same questionable reasonings as their abilities. However, that may not be enough to save them from the Covenant's rath. From my understanding, the Guardian could only be revived so long as their Ghost was intact. The Covenant would have no problem with eliminating both the Guardian and the Ghost in turn.

The hallways stretched on like cramped purple tunnels only broken by small intersections and doors, all of which we were forced to stop at and carefully clear them of possible ambushes. Still no sign of the religious conglomerate. Maybe they did perish in the harsh FTL jump. The possibility was certainly a promising prospect.

Only one last intersection before the hallway would curve into the hangar. The hangar were I had made what was supposed to be my last stand against the Covenant. With any luck, the UNSC equipment was still there. Hopefully, I could salvage some weapons out of it. The firearms that Banshee-44 had provided were enough to combat the Fallen, but they were considerably of a lower caliber than that of the UNSC standard munitions. They would make short work of the lesser units, Grunts, Jackals, Skirmishers, and the like if you placed the shots in the right place. However, the more heavily armored units, like the Elites and hopefully absent Hunters, it would be more effective to engage them in hand to hand.

"Be ready, the hangar is up ahead. If the Covenant is planning to cut us off, then it will be there. If they are, get into the hangar and grab some cover. The hallway is a choke point so don't get bogged down." They said nothing but prepared all the more.

The intersection was clear just like all those before. Just debris shoot loose from the wall and a nearby stack of crates. The hallway was even less organized. A crate had tipped over and leaned up against the wall blocking the path. Overhead panels hung down from the ceiling by pulsing wires. Some sections of the auxiliary deck lighting was damaged and left flickering in and out. The obstacles proved insignificant to the motivated quintet of augmented soldiers. Wordlessly we stacked up against the door panel. Reagan slapped at the holographic door control. An almost musical hum sounded out seemingly from all around and nowhere at all. The door panels slid back into the wall.

I expected to immediately come under fire. As soon as the paneling had cleared the threshold, I exploded into action. Armored boots thundered along the alloyed flooring. Finger ready on the trigger waiting for the brain to send the proper electrical signals. Shoulder tensed to mitigate any incurred recoil from the combustion based munition. I cleared the first three meters and braced against the siding of a ramp that hugged the contours of the oval hanger until it melded into the second level.

The others, momentarily stunned by the sudden burst of rapid movement from such a largely armored individual, were slow to act in comparison. Jaguar's senses caught up to her first. She entered the room and swept high looking for elevated gunmen. Reagan swept his heavy weapon across the cluttered and disarrayed hangar floor. Alicia stayed inside the confines of the doorway while Lily pushed for the opposite ramp.

Nobody dared move more than was necessary. Not a sound came from anybody. The hangar was empty but marred with signs of a massive battle... one that I was all too familiar with.

Bodies laid about the hangar by the dozens, the large majority of which were composed of alien corpses. Elites spattered to the walls and sprawled on the deck. Grunts easily took the high note on the casualty list. They were heaped together in large numbers were they had grouped together in hopes that there was survival in numbers. Jackals clustered into the confines of doorways and small cramped spaces usually in some form of a formation. They had hoped to utilize a phalanx formation to break the human ranks, but only fell prey to grenades and concentrated fire. Skirmishers lay fallen underneath the second story platforming or at least hanging off the edges. They had taken to the high ground in an attempt to quell the human advances. All the same, they perished to the anguished Spartans.

The Pelican still clung to the deck in all its magnificent human glory. It was without a doubt fried in the FTL jump but was still a welcome sight. Weapons cases laid bare and empty along the backside of the Pelican. The Marines had wasted little in their desperate stand in the hangar. Their handy work had definitely been commendable. The soldiers themselves were not without their own place amongst the dead.

They were unceremoniously slumped against the walls were they had taken refuge against the enemy fire. Their bodies were flash fused to their armor, and their faces boiled away to the bone. Blood painted the floors and walls into a mirual of crimson stained plating. They would be remembered, maybe not by the planet they gave their lives in service to, but at the very least I would know of their sacrifice.

"What happened here?" Alicia broke the silence. "It looks like a massacre in here."

"Whoever these guys were, they got slaughter by the aliens." Alicia chimed in.

"These Marines fought with courage…" I mumbled out as I stood over the nearest Marine.

"What?"

"These were...are UNSC Marines. We boarded this ship to destroy it in a last-ditch defense effort."

They seemed to take the hint and silence reigned once more as I set about a grizzly ritual of honoring the dead.

Lily and Alicia meandered about the hanger uneasily while their Ghosts inspected the various scenery with wild abandon. I spent a few quiet moments collecting the dog tags of the fallen taking special care to commit each name to memory. These would more than likely be the last UNSC Soldiers that I would fight alongside with for a long time if not forever.

The tags carefully placed within the confines of a hard case pocket where they would be safe for as long as I breathed. I drew back up to my full height and advanced to the front of the room was the path continued on further down another set of hallways. The mission must go on as they say...