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Vael had to think quickly to adapt to the new threat. Most of the bridge crew did not have the positions or equipment necessary to survive long against them, so currently, these new opponents were the greatest threat to them. He fired on one of the cyborgs with his plasma rifle as soon as he had a clear shot, but the being dodged two of the projectiles, and used his sword to attempt to deflect a third. A sword could not redirect a bolt of superheated plasma, but it did disrupt the magnetic containment. The projectile split apart in the air, which still sent superheated plasma flying past the sword, but the cyborg’s armor seemed to be able to withstand the more diffuse heating. They were quick, their weapons close quarters, but deadly, and were obviously augmented beyond Human. However, the boarding team had numbers, and just needed the opportunity to land enough shots to defeat their armor. As one of the few among them with specialized skills in melee combat, Vael knew his role.

Returning his plasma rifle to its magnetic holster, Vael drew his second energy sword and quickly activated the blade. As one of the cyborgs came from the lifts, dashing with impressive speed in an attempt to break through to the rear of their formation, towards the ODSTs, Vael leaped over their barricades to meet him halfway. “Spread out! Take multiple angles and coordinate focus fire.” Vael shouted back to the Humans behind him.

Taking advantage of the longer reach of his energy swords, Vael intercepted the cyborg as he attempted to move past and forced a confrontation. The cyborg had speed and reactions, and whether or not he could actually match Vael for strength, his augmented body would ensure the Sangheili could not casually overpower him. But, as a master Sangheili swordsman, a recognized blademaster, there was one trait he could bring to bear that these half-mechanical thralls could not hope to match: experience. When Vael engaged, he thrust his blade from outside the cyborg’s reach, keeping his other sword close enough to his opponent to remain a threat, but close enough to himself for defense. Almost on instinct, Vael could tell based on his opponent’s current stance and momentum exactly what part of his body to target to force a defensive reaction most disruptive to an opposing offense, what counterattacks would be possible from his opponent’s next sword position, and how Vael could counter that reaction. Between his finely-tuned understanding of swordsmanship and his ability to think ahead, Vael could be mistaken for a Jedi.

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With orders to board the enemy capital ship, Samus was amongst those that were teleported aboard the Assimilator alongside a rag-tag group of allies. As she emerged from her teleportation alongside the rest from the Glasgow, she would be planted within the middle of a firefight. Taking position, the armored huntress rolled towards cover before proceeding to give cover fire towards the allies up in the front. Shielded Kull troopers manned the front with their forcefields attempting to reflect most of the fire as they fought back. She would charge up a more powerful blast and unleash the ball of plasma straight towards the shielded troopers. If they hadn't fully drained the energy shields completely, they would at least be stunned enough for those up in the frontlines to finish them off.

And with them eliminated, she too proceeded to help in exterminating the opposing force within the loading bay. Soon after they cleared the area, a door opened to reveal three armored blade-wielding soldiers walking out onto the field. Samus already felt a if something was off with them just by their choice of weaponry alone. It wouldn't be confirmed until one of her allies chucked a grenade at them only for it to be sliced directly in two. They were unusually fast, no doubt being the result of their potentially cybernetic enhancements.

Then popped out four of them from another lift as the battle truly began.

The bounty huntress had no available melee weapons at her disposal, with only her armored hand and her blunt cannon as a last ditch effort. She even noticed that the swords those soldiers wielded were even tough enough to actively lock with a plasma saber and enough to disperse plasma-weaponry. The only kind of "melee-based" equipment that she had onboard was her grapple beam, but it was better used for flinging herself off walls, hanging onto cliffs, killing small creatures, or lassoing in fleeing opponents. It would be difficult to lasso one...

Unless she could find an opponent too preoccupied to notice. In fact, she had an idea.

Just then, one of the soldiers lunged towards her with his sword raised above his head. The huntress quickly side-stepped before it began swinging at her in a quick fashion. Samus was quick enough to dodge most of the shots before the blade slightly cut through her right shoulder pad. Quickly the armored warrior was able to throw a quick kick towards the soldier's stomach and then uppercutting it with her arm cannon, wanting to send it into a mild-daze. If it succeeded, she would unravel her grapple beam as she attempted to nab the sword from the soldier's hand and into her exposed hand before firing a power shot to its chest.

If she could pull it off, she could at the very least give the sword to someone who desperately needs a melee weapon. Because she knew that most of her allies were rather ill-equipped against these fast-paced opponents...

As one of the sword soldiers, a surprise to him to be sure. He tried to duck as one of them charged him. Raising his P90 to block the sword in its cutting blow, the blade lodging itself in the gun and he winced. If that blow had come to hit him then it was likely that he wouldn't have survived the strike. He groaned as the armoured menace continued to push down against him, forcing him to take a knee. He groaned with the strain, dropping his left arm to his hip holster, withdrawing his beretta and unleashing a clip into the stomach of the attacker. The armour initially stopped the bullets, them dropping harmlessly. Though the continued barrage caused his opponent to recoil and move to take another shot. Dropping his P90 down, dropping his pistol, he flicked the switch on the side of the weapon clicking it onto full auto.

Unloading a 50 round magazine into the soldiers stomach the armour eventually gave, the soldier falling to the ground, dropping the sword. As another figure rushed him he rolled and picked up the fallen one sword, using it to block the incoming blow. Where was Ronon when you needed him? He grunted. "Little help anyone!"

After the Kull troopers had been properly contained, Sarah sent a quick all clear to her geth friend. But the situation changed very quickly. As armored troopers carrying swords stepped off the elevator. Why did the enemies she encountered feel the need to carry swords? She wondered, the phantom program from Cerberus had turned normal men into ninjas on drugs. But at least they had a palm gun that delivered some damage. These ones seemed to be armed with a sword, and blaster. Of course watching one cut a frag grenade out of the air without a sweat startled her a little, but she had seen the phantoms do the same thing. Sometimes she worried that even across universes originality was a little lacking. "Focus fire!" She ordered, doubting that much like the phantoms in their universe. The enemy was able to dodge, or block metal shavings going several times faster than the speed of sound. But it wouldn't be the first time she was surprised.

As they kept their enemy pinned, she focused on the stragglers who slipped their grasp. Trying to let the rest of her team deal with them, and the friendlies from other ships as she focused elsewhere. But she was drawn out of her focus by someone shouting for help. Sheppard. Apparently the two were of similar make. But this Sheppard had an extra P in his name, she wondered if that would be lost to time. After all judging by the technology 'Sheppard' was about 200 years behind. So she didn't buy it. With a quick spring step forward, she brought out her omni-blade. The blade managed to break through store-brand phantoms armor, and cut it's sword arm off. Then she followed up with a biotic slam, slamming the thing into the wall, at forces that would break a normal humans neck. But she was unsure if it was truly dead.

As she freed up Sheppard, she quipped up. "It's almost as if The Glasgow had tailor made armor, and weapons for you. Huh who'd think the great Sheppard, would need our help." She laughed, then shouted to a turian off her to left. "Vexus, get over here The Sheppard needs a gun."
"Aye boss." The Turian soldier rushed over, seemingly a walking armory of folded weapons. "Which one does he want?" He asked, wondering what of his load-out he was going to hand over. "Something that a human could use without breaking their arm."
"Oh, then he better just use the avenger then." The Turian said. Removing the Avenger, from the small of his back, unfolded it. Then handed it, and several thermal clips over to Sheppard. After he handed it over however there was the loud sound of a blaster going off, then Vexus fell over.

The Turian's shields must of been broken, and he didn't say anything. The shot hit him in between the joint between the plate, and the
exposed neck. He was more than likely, most certainly dead, and if not dead he'd probably never walk again. "Man down!" Sarah shouted, then she began to glow blue with biotics usage, using slam on the knock of phantoms neck. Over, and over again. Until it's head had turned a full 180, with a sickening Snap. Even with it's head completely turned around, just to make sure she hooked her boot under the helmet, kicking it off then unloaded a good 20 rounds of shaved metal into the back of it's head. Until there was no head left, just meat chunks that could pass for where the head could be. Satisfied it was dead, she turned, and rejoined her fellow N7 on the firing line, tapping an Asari biotic on her shoulder, and taking her place. The Asari taking her place, checking to make sure Vexus was either death, or if there was anything she could do to stabilize the fallen turian.

As the firing line moved away from the beam-in site, pushing them back towards the lifts and stairs to the bridge, K'Tari finally let up the green barrier and moved up to one of the consoles. The others had to duck down and keep low. Luckily, her diminutive stature, meant she could stand fully upright. She then saw one of the aliens she had beamed aboard with getting taken out by a blast. She saw one of the other strange aliens seeing to him, sadly, her healing skills were completely untested on someone that isn't a Mobian or Overlander. But with a hit like that... She needed to try something. Jumping out of cover, invisible lashes of magic lanced from her and wrapped around one of the Phantoms, wrapped around its arm, then around his neck and pulled hard, it fell over and hit the floor hard, before pulling it towards her, dragging it along the ground towards herself. It tried to lash out with it's swords to try and cut the invisible wires, but couldn't compute that these tendrils weren't ones that could be cut by such a weapon. Every time it tried to get up, she yanked harder, pulling it over again, not allowing it to regain its balance. It finally was on the floor in front of her and she lept over it and wrapped the invisible lash around its legs, She balled a fist. She was of rather leith build, but, like all Echidna's, she was still deceptively strong. Punching it hard in the head, she left a clear dent in its mask, she shook her hand. "DAMMIT!!!" She grunted, before throwing her hands out, her eyes turned from green to red as the cyborg found the tendrils wrap around every conceivable part of it, before beginning to crush it. It looked around desperately, but she didn't seem to be in the mood to talk. Blood spurted from several of the gaps in its armour and she saw the gaps. Pressing her hand to one of the gaps, a ball of fire appeared in her hand. She blasted into the gap and fire spurted from the other gaps as the cyborg screamed its last breath. She stood back and was visibly shaking. Taking robot lives was one thing, taking a sentient life was another... She didn't enjoy it, she didn't like it. She looked around to see others fighting. She could either take or save a life... And right now, she needed to save one.

She took one last look at the cyborgs charred body, before vaulting the corpse and rushing towards the downed Turian. "Oh..." She looked at the neck wound. She looked at the Asari. "I've never healed someone like this before, but i'm going to try." Her hands were engulfed by a green aura and she pressed it into the wound, the blue blood soaking her hand. She closed her eyes as the wound started to close up. The blood pouring from his neck continued to hemorrhage, a bit spurted to K'Tari's face. She blocked it out. She had brought Jack back from the brink of death, she was GOING to do her damndest to make sure he didn't die. As the wound closed fully, both she and the Turian let out a gasp. "Got a pulse going..." She said. She had no idea if she even knew how to repair his spine, but the spell had gotten his respiratory system going, so at least his brain wasn't going to suffocate anymore. She fell back and sat down. Using magic constantly like this was starting to take it out of her. She sat for a second and watched to see if what she had done had actually gotten him back up.

A wookie roar echoed across the bridge as Ahri'ahab tackled one of the cyborgs, but not before one of Rex's clones found himself bisected by the soldier's sword. Following the tackle, the wookie brought his warblade around with all the strength he could, shattering the cyborg's sword and sending it sailing through the air into a wall, where it laid stunned. Taking the cue, Rex and his remaining clones unloaded on it, eventually penetrating the armor and turning the cyborg into just one more corpse. Wrench had locked down the lifts to the bridge, so there was no longer any way for the forces in the lower parts of the ship to get to them and he began shutting down the life support in other parts of the Assimilator.

Yrel clashed with her opponent numerous times, her training amongst the Echani for her blade work paying off against the equally elegant form used by her opponent. However, the longer the battle went, the more she understood the cyborg and eventually, she found her opening, her lavender blade slipping into a gap in the cyborg's defense and slicing off first its sword arm, then the other arm and finally, the head. She was no trained Jedi, she couldn't call up on the Force to use telekinesis or enhance her reflexes to super-human levels, but she was still Miraluka, so her natural connection afforded her certain advantages.

Elsewhere on the bridge, Eighty had reengaged the cyborg that had sent him flying earlier, but it was down to the two of them fighting with just their hands and Eighty with his vibroknife. Getting rid of its sword had proven easy enough with a quick blaster shot to the hilt at point blank range, but the bio-mechanical menace had returned the favor by forcibly making him drop his twin pistols. So Eighty had pulled his knife and stabbed its blaster and now, here they were. Guardian and Erin were doing their best to offer their support to the others, but their immediate rush into close quarters made that difficult and so when the Turian went down, the medic moved to his side quickly, even as his own medic used some kind of orange healing agent and the small creature from the ship the asshole was from tried to heal him as well. Checking his pulse, which took a few tries as she was unfamiliar with his physiology, she sighed in relief. "He's alive, but he'll need to be stabilized until we can get him in a Kolto tank. Then he'll be good as new."

Vael's forced opponent chose to dance away from the energy sword and draw its blaster, firing three times to try and force the Sangheili onto the defensive instead. This worked, until Meteor blasted it in the back with a HE round, sending metal, blood, and guts flying all over its Vael and all the Zabrak could do was grin and shrug. This was a warzone, not a place of honorable dueling after all.

Samus's gambit mostly paid off, though the daze wasn't as long as she would have liked. The sword however, was hers and she could either toss it to an ally, which seemed like a poor idea now that she was holding it and could feel its weight, or wield it herself. However, the two surviving cyborgs back away from their opponents as they realized they were all that was left. "You will be sacrifices!" Their visors started flashing rapid red and Eighty cussed loudly.

"FIND COVER!" The boarding crew scrambled and managed to find cover just as large explosion engulfed the inside. When the smoke cleared, the only remains of the two opponents was a scorch mark on the floor where they'd stood. "Alright, I guess we win."

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With her cyborg opponent now compromised, Samus used her cannon's grapple beam to bring its weapon straight to her. However, as she quickly glanced and moved the weapon about, she soon realized how surprisingly heavy the blade was. Even for her, the blade was quite unwieldy. So much for her original idea. She quickly tossed the weapon aside, before seeing the two remaining cyborgs began to embark on their explosive suicide quest. The bounty huntress quickly hid behind a wall as a large explosion rocked the Bridge.

Once it was over, Samus quickly scanned the area for anymore lifeforms, before concluding that the area was secure.

"All clear." she announced before turning to the group, "Now let's disable this ship before more show up."

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There was no hesitation, nor even a moment of distraction when his opponent fell, regardless of who dealt the killing blow. He could occupy their attention in melee while his ranged allies found their shots, and that was his precise intentions. The final two opponents knew they were outmatched, but Vael did not expect them to flee nor surrender. He had heard their words upon challenging them, and he knew, perhaps better than anyone, what was going through their minds. They were zealots, completely, religiously devoted to their master, and they would carry out his will by any means necessary. The form it took, in this case, was sacrifice.

Vael was certainly ready to act, and the cyborgs gave him plenty of warning of their presumed demise for him to react. In one motion, he moved a blade to its holster and reached back to produce a small, glowing metal disk. It was a piece of equipment originally of UNSC origin, but one he found useful. Rather than just protecting himself, he threw the drop shield at the feet of the two cyborgs moments before their self-detonation, then rolled towards one of the pits next to the bridge’s central walkway.

The drop shield could not entirely contain the combined explosions and was depleted quickly, but it did dampen them to make them less dangerous to himself and his allies. His own shields flared from the heat of the blast, but he made it down into the pit in time to avoid injury.

Naturally, the first priority of many was to check for casualties, but Vael wanted to ensure that there were no more to come. “Disable the vessel’s external defenses, quickly.” Vael ordered as he climbed up onto the bridge’s central walkway. “Once they are down, have the Daedalus scan the ship for any surviving enemies, then remove them. This will have all been for nothing if we allow them to sabotage the ship.”

Vael stepped forward towards one of the large windows at the front of the bridge, looking for any signs of enemy strikecraft outside. Although, his eyes were eventually drawn towards the planet itself. He remembered what it had looked like on approach, and already the storms were engulfing its surface. It might not have been burning in fire, but it was clearly a planet in pain.

Breathing a heavily, she watched the Turion breathe as finally, one of the others picked him up and mentioned something to do with a "Kolto Tank" happy that he was safe, she got back to her feet. "Oh boy, time to do some more killing..." She sarcastically sighed under her breath. Getting to her feet, her eyes began to glow red again. She stood up just in time to see the last 2 detonate herself, she barely was able to throw a shield in front of herself before she was thrown back across the bridge and landed in a heap, a pair of rings falling out of her pockets. She finally managed to right herself and stood up to see the others had began to perform the technical stuff. She was no good to them like that, seeing to the wounded would be her job. As she was about to start walking, she looked to the side to see the large snake-horse-like creature stood and a look of mourning upon its face. She turned around and looked at the... Man? before turning to look at the planet. She had seen this once lush planet as they flew down to it and it reminded her so much of Mobius... Now it reminded her of Mobius in a different way. Seeing her visions of the return of Dark Gaia and what it would have done to the planet. "I know that my people of my ship haven't left the best impression on you." She began, not looking at Vael, but clearly talking to him. "I know that you see us based on the impressions that Doctor Robotnik left on you. And i also have also heard the stray thoughts from members of the other crews, that we rely too much on our Chaos Emeralds and not on our own two hands." She looked down at her hands. "But looking upon this world as it cries its last breath, as it calls out for anyone that can save it. Your... Our combined technologies can do naught, Our own two hands equally as useless... But our Chaos Emeralds have brought us back from such brinks of destruction as this before. Can you see now why we mourn their absence? Why we seem to be doing everything in our power to get them back?" She asked. "I make no excuses for any members of my crew, least of all the Doctor, and i do not ask any form of forgiveness, for it is not my place to ask. But had you once the power to easily stop such a tragedy and then be forced to witness it, would you not also curse the day your were forced to be without that power?" She continued to watch the pitch-black clouds swirl and engulf the world. "The whispers will continue and the joke that we have become will not cease, but we are all on the same side and i hope that you can appreciate that our only wish here is that we weren't so... So helpless to watch this world, that reminds me of my own beautiful Mobius... Burn..." from Vaels periferal vision, a almost blinding light appeared as a tear rolled down her cheek and caught the reflection of the light, turning the tiny droplet of salty water into a miniature sun, if even for a moment.

Vael had not been a part of previous interactions with the crew of the Egg Carrier, and any briefing he received had only contained relevant, practical information about them. He knew that at least one of them would be difficult to work with, but beyond that, the small creature’s apologies did not have much personal meaning to him. But, some of her words did have more of an impact…like a dagger stabbing through one of his hearts. To see a planet devastated and dying, and to have the power in one’s own hands to give life…or to take it. It was not unfamiliar.

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The bridge of the Covenant Battlecruiser was a flurry of gunfire, plasma blasts, and grenades. The entry point for the UNSC’s soldiers had not been as close to the bridge as they could manage, but they had to pay in blood for every hall they fought through on the way there. Marines and ODSTs lay dead alongside the Grunts, Jackals, and Elites they had killed on route to the bridge, but their sacrifices had brought them to the brink of victory. Though, they were cutting it close. The Battlecruiser was in position over its target, aimed at a city that was serving as one of the few remaining evacuation centers. It needed only to fire its glassing beam.

With a squad of four Spartan-III supersoldiers as the Humans’ spearhead, the bridge was down to its final defender. The Spartans were outfitted with MJOLNIR Mark IV armor, and most of them were already showing their battle damage. The final Elite they had to face was none other than the shipmaster himself, based on his gold armor and imposing stature. One of the Spartans put a few hits into his shields with a captured plasma rifle, but he quickly forced each of the Spartans back into cover with a volley of concussion rifle blasts. “Nishum! Contemptable heathens! Your world is already doomed!”

The shipmaster kept back the Spartans with a few more concussion blasts while stepping back towards the control console for the primary energy projector. It was already aimed, he just needed to press the button to fire. It was when he was reaching his hand back that he turned his head enough to see another Human rushing towards him from his left. He was an ODST, thrusting towards his chest an energy sword taken from a fallen Elite. The shipmaster raised up his weapon quickly enough that the sword pierced through his concussion rifle, but was stopped short of his armor. The Elite quickly grabbed the Human’s wrist and broke it almost without effort, forcing him to drop the blade. Just a moment later, he activated his energy dagger and thrust it into the ODST’s chest. However, his scream of pain also hid the distinctive sound of the frag grenade in his other hand being primed. When the shipmaster did notice, it was too late to react.

The grenade’s detonation separated the two beings in both a quick and grisly fashion. The ODST was practically blown apart, though the Elite was very much still in one piece. The shield strength of such a high-ranking Elite was enough that he could survive even such a close-range blast with depleted shields and non-fatal injuries. Or at least, that would have been the case had they been alone. The Spartans were quick to finish the writhing Elite with a hail of bullets and plasma fire.

With the death of the ODST, only a single marine remained out of their boarding party, aside from the Spartans. He stepped forward with a shocked expression, unable to look for too long at what remained of the ODST’s body. “Oh, god…Owens. You didn’t have to…I should’ve…”

As the Spartans were moving forward to complete their objective, one stopped just in front of the marine, his mere presence demanding his full attention. “Owens just saved a hundred thousand souls.” He said in a decidedly neutral tone. He did not come across as particularly compassionate or sympathetic, but it was enough to focus the marine.

Even as the bridge had just been cleared, the squad leader of the Spartans had already swung his battle rifle back around towards the bridge’s entry hallways. “Get that program uploaded. Reinforcements won’t be far behind.”

Another of the Spartans approached the control console, pulling out a data drive that had been adapted to interface with the Covenant computers. However, despite how quickly they had acted, and how vigilant they had been, they soon found that they were not alone. It was uncertain at what point in the battle he had entered the bridge, or if he had been there all along, but before the data drive could be interfaced with the console, the Spartan holding it was struck by three shots from a plasma rifle: one in the upper back, and two to the back of the head. As the Spartan’s lifeless body dropped to the floor, the shots interrupted the active camouflage, revealing the massive form of an Elite clad in the dark violet armor of a Field Marshal across the room.

“Zealot!” The squad leader shouted, prompting the remains of his team to dash for cover. The Spartans were exceptionally quick to act, so the Zealot fired his shots at the lone marine as he moved into cover himself behind a support column, striking him in the chest and stomach. His armor was effective to an extent, but it was certainly not enough to keep him in the fight.

Once they had their positions, the Spartans took aim, but the Elite did not seem to make any move from behind his cover for several seconds. The room seemed completely still for those long moments, until one of the Spartans’ motion trackers picked up on their opponent’s movement. “Left!” She called through their comms as she opened fire with her plasma rifle at a shimmering that caught her eye. One shot managed to strike his shields, immediately disrupting the active camouflage and forcing him into cover behind a Covenant weapon crate. It was hardly the best cover, and not likely his intended position to take.

With just a few gestures, the squad leader ordered his team forward. The Spartan with the plasma rifle moved left, knocking over another weapon crate to crouch behind for cover, while the squad leader moved to the pillar the Elite had ran from to keep range with his battle rifle. The third Spartan, who was down to just his shotgun, started to move towards the Zealot’s cover.

As soon as he was close enough, the Spartan pushed aside the weapon crate to expose the Elite to both of the other Spartans, as well as himself. At that range, one shot from his shotgun would at least mostly deplete the shielding of the Zealot, who would certainly fall quickly to the combined fire of both of his allies. However, the Elite was quicker to react than expected. While the Spartan was moving the crate, the Zealot had already been moving to hit him with a backhanded strike that knocked him clean off of his feet. The shotgun did fire, but only part of the spread actually contacted the edge of the Elite’s shield. Both of the other Spartans still opened fire, but the squad leader only landed one burst into the Zealot’s shields before he could return fire and land a shot from his plasma rifle onto the Spartan’s shoulder, at the joint. At least part of the superheated plasma burned its way through his undersuit and into his flesh as the squad leader pulled himself back behind the pillar.

However, before he could bring his weapon to bear on the last Spartan, her plasma rifle depleted his shields, and even landed a shot on the upper part of his stomach, though his armor protected him at least to the point that he was not incapacitated. The Spartan was forced to duck down behind the weapon crate once the Zealot opened fire, but there had been enough time for the first Spartan to recover from the Elite’s blow. His weapon had been knocked far out of his reach, but he was still armed. He got up to one knee with a plasma grenade in his hand, and just as the Elite was turning to face him, he threw and stuck it straight to the Zealot’s helmet.

In almost every situation, a plasma grenade stuck to one’s armor was a death sentence. Usually, there was nothing one could do in the few seconds before detonation but come to terms with their own demise. However, with fast reactions, and even faster thinking, there was a way for the Zealot to cheat death. He yanked his helmet off of his head so quickly he almost broke a mandible that got caught between two of the mouth guards. The excess plasma emanating from the grenade burned his hand, but he ignored any and all pain as he threw the helmet away…directly towards the female Spartan. It landed behind the weapon crate she was crouched behind, and at that point, the fuse was short enough that it detonated almost immediately to envelop her entirely in superheated plasma.

As soon as the Zealot had gotten his helmet off, the first Spartan had drawn his knife. Whatever he felt upon seeing his squadmate most likely die to his grenade did not stop him from going for the kill. He lunged for the Elite’s exposed throat with his blade, but he could not have known of the Zealot’s skill as a blademaster. He could get his free hand to his energy sword, turn, and swing as he activated it in a single, deft motion. Even though the Spartan could see and react in time to know the blade was coming, he simply had no options to prevent the sword from bisecting him.

The last that remained were the squad leader and the Zealot. The squad leader had dealt with his wound enough to continue fighting, though not quickly enough to save his squad. The Spartan took aim, but the still-shieldless Elite decided not to take the risk of challenging him in a direct exchange of fire, instead diving behind the weapon crate once more for cover to recharge his shields. The Spartan still fired a burst, but without an angle on the Zealot’s head due to his dive, the three shots struck his body instead, with no way to know what effect they had.

There was only the briefest moment of hesitation from the Spartan as he made his choice. He had no grenades and did not have an angle on the Zealot, nor would he be able to get angle before his opponent’s shields recharged. So, he chose to complete his mission. He made a dash to the ramp leading up to the command platform. His motion tracker caught the Zealot moving too as soon as he hit the ramp, but he stayed focused on his goal. Only one thing mattered out of all of this.

The Spartan rushed up to the fire control console and reached down, grabbing the modified data drive out of the clutches of his dead squadmate. All of the complexities of this sabotage had been taken care of by the AI that designed the program, so all he had to do was, essentially, plug the drive into the console. He reached out towards the console in front of him, data drive in hand, when that very hand was struck by a well-aimed shot out of a short burst of plasma rifle fire. The drive was practically incinerated, and his hand heavily burned along with it.

The Spartan turned his head to see the Zealot towering over him, his sword poised to run him through. Even with all chances of completing his mission now seeming hopeless, the Spartan still did not give up. He brought his rifle around and fired a burst underarmed up at the Elite precisely enough that a shot struck the hilt of the energy sword itself, disabling it. Ultimately, though, it was only a small success. The Zealot still followed through, striking the Spartan square in the center of his head with a full-force blow from his fist. The hit knocked him to the ground with a loud thud, cracked his visor, and sent his rifle sliding far out of reach.

The Zealot tossed the useless hilt aside, reached down, and pulled off the Spartan’s helmet as he stood over him. Any lesser Human would likely have been killed by the sheer force of the blow, but the Spartan still drew breath. The Human tried to push himself up off the floor, but the Zealot grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up in the air. He struggled just to breathe under the crushing force of the Elite’s grip, but could not avoid locking eyes with the Sangheili warrior.

“Your efforts bear the mark of bravery Human, but your heresy shall always be doomed to fail against our righteous strength. Now, you may die the warrior’s death you have earned.” Vael spoke with an even tone, his voice unburdened with anger, even for the deaths of his own allies at the hands of the Humans. The Spartan could not take a breath to even speak up in response, but he still did not roll over and just accept death. He pulled his knife from its sheath, but his last act of defiance was cut short by Vael tightening his grip to its full strength, crushing his neck almost completely.

The combat knife hit the floor as the Spartan’s body went limp. Vael dropped his victim unceremoniously, then approached the fire control console that the Humans had been so desperate to reach. Even had he not observed them from stealth, their intentions would not have been difficult to determine. The battlecruiser’s glassing beam was targeted on one of the last remaining, and largest evacuation centers on the planet. There were other ships glassing other parts of the planet, but if this ship was unable to complete its task, then the Humans below would likely have enough time to escape before another could take its place. The Shipmaster had failed to protect his ship against the Humans’ attempt at sabotage, but he had at least retained some shred of his honor by dying in battle against them.

Vael’s gaze went to the view screen in front of him. Storms of fire marked the devastation that was engulfing the majority of the planet, save for the part of the continent directly underneath them. Just as the Shipmaster had attempted before, Vael’s hand went to the holographic panel and, with a simple touch, the ship’s cleansing flame extinguished any trace of every lifeform in its path.

---

---

Looking down upon the dying planet, Vael’s hand clenched tightly into a fist. His determined gaze remained fixated on the planet as he finally spoke. “This planet may die, but this time…my hands shall serve to deliver its people to safety.”

The turian didn't respond to the healing, but the Asari had managed to stabilize the condition with the help from the republic troopers, and medi-gel. At the mention of kolto, the asari shook her head. "He'll be fine on our ship." She said, knowing full well that the captain wouldn't want his men left in someones hands. With the bridge secure they'd be fine, Sarah ensured the rest of her team was upright, and sent Sparky to help their friend access the ships data, and systems.

The N7 operative looked out the window, at the dying planet. This wasn't her home, and while it reminded her of Earth. They weren't her people. Still she felt a pang of regret for the people who more than likely wouldn't make it off planet. She knew that the assembled crews would try their hardest to evacuate the people, she knew the captain would probably even make what room he could. But they couldn't save all of them, even with this ship in their possession now.

But it meant more lives saved, and in the long run adding this ship to the fleet would also mean more firepower, and perhaps a better capital ship added to their fleet. Turning away from the window. "We should probably cut the feed, or use it to communicate with the galaxy at large. After all we have the attention of the galaxy now." She said.

Wrench made no reply to Vael as he worked, the ship's own defenses and systems quickly turning on the crew and the fighers trying to strafe the bridge and Daedalus. Eighty joined the N7 leader and Vael at the bridge's viewport while Mayhem Squad and the rest of the Scorch Guard ensured there would be no more surprise attacks. He didn't speak to what either of them at first, simply watched as the storm clouds spread out from their point of origin, even as ships began to break atmosphere as they fled the surface and shuttles and the like began to flow from the ships arriving from out of the system to help.

His mind replayed a different scenario, the trial by fire that had forged the 302nd into the fighting force they had ultimately become. The surface of Ilum flashed behind his eyes, a planet that the Empire had destroyed in search of the Kyber crystals that made lightsabers. It had been one of the Remnant's largest strongholds, and the Moff who'd taken, the self-declared Grand Moff Krysen, having used the existing Imperial bases and infrastructure to build a fortress world. It was there the ARC trooper had distinguished himself for the Scorch Guard, but the price it had come at, well, Eighty flexed his left arm, faintly feeling the servos in it whirring. The medics told him it could have been worse, but watching Racey sacrifice himself to take out the objective had almost made him wish it had been.

"We'll leave the feed for now. First, I think we need to figure out some kind of chain of command or something as the evacuation proceeds." He beckons to the downed Turian. "We've been lucky, casualties are no where near what they could be, what with no communication, risky shots over each other shoulders and, well, the general chaos of it all. We're going to have a trial by fire eventually, and it won't end this well if we don't figure out shit out."

---

Vael gave a nod. “I agree. We should avoid disrupting the feed. Perhaps even move some communications equipment to a dropship so we can continue it while we make use of this ship. If we do not allow our enemy to know that something has gone wrong, then they will not interfere with us. We may use the broadcast for our own ends once we have completed our task.”

---

Any casualties were returned to their ships as soon as possible, while the rest set to work on getting the ship ready for use. After multiple, thorough sensor sweeps from the Daedalus to ensure the rest of the ship was devoid of life, they restored life-support and gave the Assimilator a skeleton crew to make it operational as an evacuation vessel. Just as Vael had recommended, they moved enough communications equipment to a dropship to keep the broadcast going while they appropriated the Assimilator for their own use.

Within hours, the rest of the fleet had arrived, though they were far from the first. By giving his announcement of Alderaan’s impending destruction, Anubis himself had essentially given the call for aid to any who intended to help the Alderaanian people. Ships from Chandrila started arriving even before the Assimilator was completely occupied to assist in the evacuation, which had now began in earnest. Bail Organa and Queen Breha Organa led and coordinated the evacuation from the ground for hours, until the worsening storms forced them to move into orbit aboard Bail’s ship, the Tantive IV, to avoid disruptions to their communications. It was a task that was beyond monumental, but the Organa family had no shortage of willing volunteers to assist. Both the Jedi Anakin Skywalker and Master Yoda joined Bail on the Tantive IV, and the respective leaders of most of the fleet’s ships either joined themselves, or sent representatives to assist with the effort.

The scale of this disaster, the destruction of an entire planet, was staggering, but so too was the scale of the response. Planetary governments, philanthropic organizations, and even just individuals with a ship and a conscious, showed up to evacuate as many as they could. There was nearly an incident when vessels of Separatist make arrived from Muunilist, but given the desperate nature of the situation, and Falul’s assurances, Bail was convinced to allow them to help. The skies of Alderaan hosted a constant stream of ships of all classes and many allegiances, and there was hardly a moment when ships were not entering or dropping out of hyperspace in orbit above the planet. The destination for their evacuation was a planet called Mantor VII, which was only a system away. In hyperspace, it hardly took more than a few minutes to make the trip, so the process of boarding and disembarking often took longer than the trip itself. As such, most of the ships they had could make many trips in the day they had been given.

Under normal circumstances, no amount of volunteers would have been able to do much for the administrative nightmare of coordinating such an enormous multitude of ships with any reasonable amount of efficiency. However, the AI, Isaac, proved to be an invaluable asset. The UNSC AI had the capacity to track and send instructions to every single ship involved in the evacuation simultaneously, which allowed the rest of them to focus on high-level decision making, rather than micromanagement. Between the number of ships they had available and the surprising efficiency with which they were able to utilize them, they started out at a remarkable pace in getting people off-world. In fact, if they could have kept up their efforts at that same pace in the day they had, they could have likely evacuated every single soul off of the planet. Unfortunately, that was not what fate had in store for them.

The worsening state of Alderaan itself eventually became a substantial hindrance to their efforts. The storms had been harsh from the beginning, but they eventually engulfed every part of the planet’s surface, and they became strong enough to be hazardous to many of the ships that had come to help them. Only more resilient, usually military vessels could still brave the storms. The rest had no choice but to wait in orbit while the dropships that could still land brought people up from the surface. The Daedalus’ beaming technology also allowed them to fill the ships in orbit, but they could only teleport so many at once. Some ships did ignore the warnings and attempted to land regardless, and not all returned. As one day moved into the next, their pace had slowed to a crawl compared to when they started, but they carried on regardless. The arrival of Mon Calamari ships did reinvigorate their efforts for a time, as they were among the few, sizable ships remaining that could still weather the atmosphere. It was unfortunate that the sheer distance between Alderaan and Mon Cala meant that they could not have been there from the start.

---

---

The bridge of the Tantive IV was currently, and had been for most of the past day, packed with more people than it was really meant to comfortably accommodate. Every member of their ragtag fleet had sent at least one representative to assist. Falul himself had decided to leave his ship in command of his second and instead help directly with the evacuation. He could not claim to have direct experience in coordinating an evacuation, but at least some of the skills involved in coordinating an invasion were still relevant. He did, for a time, have Vael take his place so he could rest. Although some of those present had not slept at all since the start of the evacuation, most notably Bail and Queen Breha themselves.

There were others from other factions outside the fleet that Bail had allowed into their makeshift command center as well. Currently Bail was standing around a holo-map displaying the planet alongside a Human woman who had identified herself as a “senator” from Chandrila. Falul did not recognize the title, and he had been far too preoccupied with the evacuation to remember the names of most of the people he had met today.

It had been three hours since the last evacuation center had been rendered entirely unlivable. Still, there had been isolated areas on the planet that sensors determined could still potentially support Human life, so the Daedalus had spent those hours scanning them for life signs. They did find small pockets of survivors that they were easily able to beam up to the Aegis but only a handful of times, and only in small numbers. The largest of the groups numbered only about fifty. For all intents and purposes, the evacuation was over. Just slightly less than half of the planet’s population of two billion was able to make it to safety.

Falul approached the holo-map, just across from Bail. They were looking at sensor scans that had been sent from the Daedalus. It was the third scan in a row that had returned no signs of life on the planet below. “I believe it is time for us to deal with the matter we discussed before. We still have access to Anubis’ broadcast. We can give your galaxy any message we want them to hear.”

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Sentinel 1-1 / Assimilator Bay / Interacting with: @EliteCommander
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The battle was over before it even began, it seemed. Even with the confusion of being teleported onto a new starship, the unorganized calamity of the initial boarding action soon found itself smoothing out into an improvised dance with Death. The Sangheili quite literally threw himself in front of the hail of gunfire so that the Helijumpers could acquire better angles on the attacking opposition. As soon as they were able to push up and clear the bridge of the remaining hostiles, they did. Casualty assessments were performed- nobody got hit. One by one, their attention turned now toward the Elite overlooking the window to the planet down below. As silent as he was, the scene before him looked familiar, and it didn't take any cue for the ODSTs to know why. Looking at each other, Leon was the first to lead- striding up alongside the Elite to observe the planet under siege. This wasn't their planet, but the fires of Arcadia still burned in his memory. His squad aligned themselves by Leon's side and away from the alien- not out of fear, but out of respect. When the alien spoke, his tone was one Leon hadn't heard since the beginning of his career as a Marine. He'd very rarely heard Elites speak fluent English; the only time being was when he'd arrived to the scene of a Marine being interrogated before being killed. Of course, how foolish it'd be to generalize at a time like this. If what the Captain said was true, and that rumor of actually winning the war as as factual as everyone so far claimed to say, perhaps times have changed for all of them, regardless of where they came from.

Leon was right beside the Sangheili when he took off his helmet and tucked it under his right arm, his eyes transfixed on the devastation below. It was at this moment the ODST leader chose his words wisely, and he spoke up in a low, gravelly tone. "Despite circumstance... I'm appreciative we can make a difference here.

---

---

---

---

It had taken hours to evacuate the planet, and a couple of losses, but they had finally managed to pull it off. Everyone, so far as he could tell from the various readouts hovering in his field of vision, had been moved off-world and into the Assimilator or the nearest available ship. As such, when the opportunity to send a message to the galaxy came around, Yiithren felt that it was only appropriate he but in his two cents on the matter, and maybe help undermine Anubis position in the process.

The mad god was, after all, the one foe they all had in common.

"If I might suggest something," Yiithren said, activating his ships coms, establishing a link to those currently onboard the Tantive IV. "I vote we send a message that undermines Anubis standing in the galaxy. More specifically his self-proclaimed godhood. Perhaps through a clever lie involving the Assimilator in conjunction with the storm, or something similar."

He steeples his appendages beneath his beak.

"Anything really, so long as it reduces peoples fear of what he could do, or what godlike powers he might have. I admit it is a dangerous idea, and one that could cause the galaxy to slip into a state of relative apathy, but in my mind Anubis-god or not-is only as powerful as those beneath him. To put it another way, if he has no followers, then he has no infrastructure. No empire. No empire and infrastructure means no ships, no military, no conquest."

The crew of the Daedalus was tired. While other people had come and gone, the crew of the Daedalus had remained active for the whole 48 hours. Sheppard and his team had spent as much time as possible, and even a little more, on the surface of Alderaan. As such, they were now spending some much needed time in the medical bay. As such the crew right now was at a bare minimum, with the majority of people in their bunks. Caldwell had elected to remain on for the first shift. If anything was going to happen in relation to the evacuation this late in the game it would happen now. Via the radio, they were talking about how they were going to use Anubis' broadcast in order to undermine Anubis and his word.

Caldwell wasn't sure how they would inspire people, after all, he was a military man and not a politician. He tapped the radio. "Whatever we are doing, we should do so quickly and move on. Unless we are after a much bigger fight."

Jason shakes his head at the suggestion as he steps into an area with the holofeed able to show him. "During the Clone Wars, even before them, that might have worked. But Anubis just exposed Palpatine as the Sith Lord that manipulated the Separatists and Republic into waging one of the bloodiest conflicts the galaxy has ever seen, and certainly the worst in the last thousand or so years of the Republic's history. Another deception won't go well. Especially since he can find a more...local means of proving his godhood, which we don't need." Bail nods in agreement, as does Master Yoda while Anakin strokes his chin in thought.

"The Supreme Commander is right. The galaxy will not respond favorably to further deception right now, especially if Anubis could expose us. However," he zooms out the holo-map in front of him, "I do believe that sending a message of resistance against this tyrant, god or not, is the best course of action." Master Yoda hobbles forwards.

"Wise words, they are. Act swiftly we must, but as honestly as possible as well, hmmm." Anakin speaks up as well.

"We can rally the surviving Jedi as well, perhaps work on freeing the Clone Legions. This is going to be a war of attrition we stand little chance of winning."

---

Falul considered Yiithrin’s suggestion. He was not as opposed to the idea as some of the others present, but they did make arguments against the deception that Falul could not dispute. In truth, this felt more like politics to him than warfare, and that was not where his strengths could be found. He had approached the idea of giving a message to the galaxy from the perspective of a commander inspiring the morale of his troops, but he was not sure of how to convince this galaxy to resist Anubis to begin with.

Nevertheless, Falul could still follow the points the others were making, and ultimately, he agreed that a lie was too risky at this point. “Such deception could be useful to us in the future, but only when our enemy does not have the means to disprove our lie. If the galaxy fails to believe his first attempt, Anubis may simply destroy another planet.”

Falul cast his gaze towards Anakin. He was not sure what most of the locals present knew about the Sangheili, or the rest of the fleet. Coordinating the evacuation had been such a constant effort that they had not yet had the change to brief everyone present on the full situation. “I do not know what you have learned about my people, and our fleet, but just as Anubis has crossed the boundaries of universes to conquer your galaxy, we have been brought here by one of his enemies to help destroy him. He has not, and could not have planned for us, and though we do not have the numbers to defeat his Empire openly, we have other advantages we can press. Our fleet is more than a match for his strongest ships, and we have already claimed victories in open combat. We can win battles, achieve important objectives. We should not underestimate the overwhelming force of our enemy, but if we need to convince your galaxy to fight back, we can do so with actions as well as words. If we are to give a message to inspire resistance among your people, then we should be confident in that fact. Now, who shall deliver it? I have no talent for politics, but I do know that a strong leader can be a more powerful weapon than the greatest warship. The face they see trying to rally them should be one they are familiar with, and one they believe is strong enough to succeed.”

With the Egg Carriers arrival, the majority of the fleet had been gathered to assist in the last of the evacuations. Sonia had done what she could, using a combination of the Assimilators sensors and her Chaos Emerald to grab a few stragglers as their battle with these infernal clouds drew to a close and Alderaan was stripped of its life in front of them. Now she was to be the representative at the meeting, along with Oglivie.

Oglivie listened to Anakin talk about taking the fight to the enemy, freeing this slave army of theirs and rallying the greatest warriors in their galaxy. "Now, that is a plan i can get behind. First we need to know HOW he's controlling them? If this Anubis freak killed the Chancellor, then why are they following his orders to begin with? I mean, i don't know how Republics work in this crazy universe, but where i come from, if you murder a leader, you don't become the leader... So, General Skywalker, being that you are a General, what is the command structure like? How would you go around grabbing the reigns of this army?" He asked.

In the meantime, Sonia seemed to have gravitated more to Falul's way of thinking. "I believe you to be right. When my mother rallied the entire of my planet against the Empire, she didn't do so by winning a great battle. She put out the cry for freedom and reminding people of everything they had lost to these tyrants. A single battle-cry can echo long after the fanfare of a victory has faded." She nodded.

"And then your dad almost single-handedly kicked their butts." Oglivie retorted. "A good butt-kicking has never hurt when it came to getting people onboard for a revolution." He shrugged. Sonia shook her head.

"I know the stories, and yes, my father was a hero, but it was the people that truly overthrew Mobotropolis. Father made skirmishes into the city, but it wasn't until the people stood up that victory was achieved." She sighed. "I CAN work up a rousing and rallying speech for someone, but to be perfectly honest, i don't think i'm the one to be giving it. I am just a face that means nothing to them... But from what i hear, General Skywalker, you are a highly decorated war-hero. If the people see you as the one leading this, then i'm positive that they will have much more faith than, no offense to anyone here, but a bunch of nobodies with a few fancy ships that barely makes up a patrol-cruise let alone an actual Battle-fleet."

Anakin shakes his head. "No, I don't think I'm the right choice. And you have the late Sheev Palpatine to thank for that." Bail Organa frowned as he turned to face the Jedi Knight.

"What, why? Because he made you the face of the Republic's fight? Because he made sure the entirety of the Republic knew that you were leading successful campaigns to protect Republic worlds across the galaxy?" Organa approaches the young man and rests a hand on his shoulder. "The people won't see that as Palpatine manipulating their views, because those things were true. Please, Anakin, do this for Padme."

A flash of anger crosses the young Jedi's eyes at the mention of his late wife, but it is quickly replaced with a sad acceptance and he nods. "Very well, I'll make the speech." Nodding, Bail is already heading off to another part of his flagship, rapidly typing away at the datapad in his hands. Jason smiles softly as Anakin and Yoda take a quiet council in another part of the area they were in before he approaches the members of their ragtag fleet.

"This is...very different from the events I'm familiar with. However, there is still one concern I have related to the demonstration that Anubis just made."