Sealed - A Halo Short Story.

"Sealed"

A Halo Short Story by: Michael Calenzo.

(Canon with Kate.)

Prologue - Gamma Station.
Planet Reverie, August 21st, 2555. 11:17 PM.
         "And here are your living quarters." Agent Slade said, gesturing with his arm at the small space.
         It wasn't much. Just a bed, dresser, and a small desk with a chair. Everything was grey, the walls, the furniture, and even the bed spread, which was just a darker shade of grey than everything else, and had white pillows.
         "Any questions?" Agent Slade asked.
         Henry West took a second to glance around the room once more, before facing the Agent.
         "No, sir." He said simply.
         "Excellent. Follow me to the meeting area, and we'll discuss your purpose for being here." Slade replied, moving past Henry.
         The two walked down the barren, concrete grey halls of Gamma Station. For the time being, the barren walls and artificial lighting gave Henry a sense of safety. He felt that this would change across the five years he'd be stationed here. Alone. With no contact outside of Agent Slade's weekly check-ins. And zero sunlight.
         These were unstable times though, and Humanity was still recovering from the war. The UNSC and ONI needed every able bodied person to put in their fair share, which was why Henry had been drafted to be Gamma Station's Keeper on Reverie. Why exactly he needed to be here, was a mystery to him. He had a few guesses, though.
         After reaching the meeting room, Slade and Henry entered the room and sat across from each other at the long table that filled the rectangular room.
         Slade pulled his briefcase up and set it on the table, opening it with two satisfying clicks. He reached inside, pulled out a small file, and slid it across the table to Henry. On the front of the file was a large red stamp that read: OPERATION: OVERWATCH.
         "Feel free to read through that in your own time," Slade began. "But I'm going to explain the overall details. You've been assigned here, on Gamma Station, to be the Keeper, as you already know. The purpose for this is to provide ONI with intel about this planet's recolonization efforts, as well as keep an eye on it should Covenant Remnants or NCA soldiers come looking to raise hell. In the event that either should show up, you are to report immediately to me on a secure channel with an Alpha priority. Understood?"
         "Yes, sir. I understand." Henry replied.
         "Good. Then I'll leave you to it. I will hear from you a week from now with your report." Slade said, standing up and straightening his suit.
         Henry followed Slade to the surface level of the station, where a large ramp lead upward to the surface. Henry punched in his codes and opened the faux ground that covered the ramp. Once the ramp was open, the two stepped out to the snowy, cold surface of Reverie, where a jet-black ONI Pelican sat, waiting to take Agent Slade away.
         Before boarding the Pelican, Slade turned and held a hand out to Henry.
         "I know what is being asked of you is not an easy task. But it's for the good of Humanity, and ONI will pay you properly for your sacrifice." He said.
         Henry reached out and shook the Agent's hand.
         "Good luck, Mr. West. See you in 5 years." Slade said.
         He then turned and walked up the ramp of the Pelican. Henry stood at the top of the ramp, and watched the Pelican take off and fly away into the stars. After a the craft was out of his sight, Henry looked over his shoulder down into the station.
         For a fleeting moment, he thought about running. He wasn't too far from the largest settlement on the planet, he could make it there and perhaps return home to his wife and on-the-way son.
         As quickly as the thought came, it left, however. Henry knew that it would never work. ONI would track him down and arrest him for desertion. Then he'd never see his family again for sure. It was a simple choice between 5 years in one prison, or the rest of his life in another.
         Henry chose the former, and walked down into the station, closing the ramp behind him.

Chapter 1 - 3 Years Later...
Planet Reverie, August 21st, 2558. 8:47 AM.
         Henry opened his eyes slowly. The essence of sleep slowly seeping out of his body as he woke. Sitting up in bed, he rubbed his eyes and stretched.
         "Good morning, Mr. West." Destiny said.
         "Good morning, Destiny." Henry said, pulling the covers aside and planting his feet on the floor.
         "I noticed last night, during your REM Sleep cycle, your heart rate increased dramatically. Are you sleeping alright, sir?"
         "Yes, Destiny. I'm sleeping just fine. Nightmares is all."
         "Alright, sir. I'll leave you be for now, and begin prepping for your report to Agent Slade later tonight."
         "Thank you, Destiny."
         "Of course, sir."
         A small plink sounded over the speakers, letting Henry know that Destiny was no longer listening. He sighed deeply. As much as he didn't like the idea of being watched by an ONI-sanctioned A.I all day and night, it was nice to have something to talk to... Even if that thing wasn't another human being.
         Henry went about his usual morning routine. He showered, and then got dressed. All he had to wear was a collection of grey shirts, pants, and a pair of military boots. After getting dressed, he went over to the bathroom sink to brush his teeth. As he brushed, Henry took a moment to look at himself in the mirror.
         Not much had changed about him, physically at least. His hair was still the same deep, dark brown, cut shorter to military standard length. He had some bags under his eyes, and his skin was no longer a nice shade of tan, but rather pale and ghost-like.
Inside, however, he was a totally different person compared to the man he was when he entered. His sea-green eyes seemed to have lost a lot of their life, and his entire personality had become as barren and cold as the walls that surrounded him. The only thing that kept him sane was the patch on his shirt with his last name on it. It reminded him of Nora, and his son.
Sadness and emotions in general had faded from Henry long ago, but when he thought of her, he felt something close to love, joy, and anticipation. He loved her, and so badly wanted to be with her. He wanted also to meet his son. Who would be just about 3 years old now, and about 5 when Henry finally came home to him. 5 years of his son's life, gone. All because ONI had forced him into this hole.
Henry then spit out his mouth wash into the sink, and left his room, heading for the cafeteria.

???

         After eating breakfast, Henry moved from the cafeteria, down the elevator a level, and into the Observation Room, a large room with one wall composed entirely of monitors set before a desk with another, smaller computer and a datapad. The monitors displayed everything from the daily news to top secret military information. Everything Henry would need to see in order to determine if there was a threat to Reverie.
         Henry entered the room and took his seat at the desk, setting his mug of coffee on it. A small plink sounded over the speakers.
         "Hello, Mr. West. Did you enjoy breakfast?" Destiny asked.
         "It was fine, as always. What do you have for the overnight highlights?" Henry replied.
         "I've sent the full report to your datapad, but otherwise the main points are a small robbery on 51st street, and reported, but unfounded gunshots in The Master Chief Memorial Park. Law enforcement are currently investigating the sounds."
         "Hmm. Destiny, expand this morning's news cast. Channel 2, please."
         "Yes, sir."
         The image on the bottom left corner monitor slowly expanded until Channel 2 news covered the entire wall. Henry kicked his feet up and watched the report.
         "In other news, the reported gunshots near The Master Chief Memorial Park are still under investigation by police. It has been determined, through witness accounts and recordings from street cameras, that the sounds were that of a small caliber pistol. Again, there was no damage found to any part of the park, and no bodies or blood was found." The female news caster said.
         Henry rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
         "Destiny, do we have those street camera recordings?" He asked.
         "Of course, sir," She replied. "Would you like to view them?"
         "Yes."
         The image on the monitors then switched from Channel 2 to four separate views of each street corner around the park. The timestamp on the cameras all read 4:02 AM. For a few moments, everything was silent. Suddenly, 3 shots rang out somewhere inside of the park, followed by silence for the rest of the footage.
         "That is all that was heard before police arrived on the scene." Destiny said.
         "Destiny, can you identify what weapon fired those rounds?" Henry inquired.
         "Of course, sir. The rounds fired are standard issue for many UNSC sidearms, although, the only one available to both military and civilians is the M6H Magnum, so it is very likely this was what fired the shots."
         Henry stared into the images of the street cameras. There had to be a reason that there was barely any evidence found at the scene. Unless someone was just shooting into the sky, but even then there would be bullet casings on the ground. No, something else was at play here.
         "Destiny, do you have a possible explanation for this?" Henry asked the A.I. Maybe she had a different view.
         "Well, sir, it is unlikely this was simply just some sort of prank or attempt at vandalism. As there was no damage to the park itself. I believe these shots were fired in self-defense, based on how quickly they were fired and the time of night. Someone could have been under attack by another person." She explained.
         "What about the lack of blood or bodies on the scene though?"
         "It is possible that due to the celerity of the shots, they missed their target."
         Henry leaned forward in his chair, rested his head on the back of his arched hands, and stared at the images more closely.
         It didn't make sense. If someone was under attack, which seemed likely to him, why was there no evidence at all of a struggle?
Because there wasn't one.
A cold chill suddenly ran down Henry's spine.
"Destiny, tell me something. Can personal shielding devices be set to disintegrate projectiles?" He asked.
"There are experimental shielding devices that can do this, sir, but it is still under development, and will not be in use for many years. Why do you ask?" The A.I. answered.
"Get Agent Slade for me, Alpha priority."
"Yes, sir. But I must ask why."
"I think the Covenant are coming to Reverie."

Chapter 2 -Sierra 298.
Planet Reverie, August 21st, 2558. 9:52 PM.
         Henry crouched behind the folded up barricades at the base of the entrance ramp to Gamma Station. He gripped his BR55 Battle Rifle tightly in his hands.
         It had been only minutes after his call with Agent Slade that The Covenant had taken out Reverie's long-range communications and cut the call short. He'd been able to warn the Agent about his theory of an attack by the aliens.
         "Sir, I'm sorry to wake you, but this is important." He'd said.
         "What is it?" Agent Slade had said, still groggy from being awoken by Henry's call.
         "I believe the Covenant are coming to Reverie."
         At this, Agent Slade snapped awake.
         "What!? How do you know?" He asked worriedly.
         "There were 3 shots fired in The Master Chief Memorial Park early this morning at 04:02. The shots were fired in rapid succession, suggesting the person was scared or needed to get the shots off quickly, but there was no evidence of any sort of gunshots in the park itself."
         "Okay, but how does this relate to the Covenant?"
         "Sir, I believe the reason there was no evidence, blood, bodies, or bullet holes, is because the person was attacked by an active camouflaged Elite, whose shields disintegrated the bullets that hit it. The Elite then overpowered the person, and essentially abducted them to cover its tracks."
         Agent Slade stared at Henry, a blank expression on his face. He was thinking. He then looked down and sighed deeply, before looking back up and facing Henry again.
         "Do you understand how far-fetched this is, Mr. West?" the Agent said, finally.
         "I do, sir, but I also believe that there is a good chance the Covenant are planning something here." Henry replied.
         "Alright, look. I'll send-" The Agent started.
         It was then that the entire facility was shaken by a large explosion near the surface, causing the lights to flicker, and shutting down all of the monitors in the Observation Room.
         "Destiny!? What was that?" Henry yelled.
         "Sir, there are reports coming in of a Covenant Supercarrier slipspace jumping in over the Standoff Communications Relay Station. They've destroyed all long-range communications." The A.I responded.
         "My God..."
         Henry's blood suddenly turned to ice. His whole body froze as he stared into the dark monitors before him.
         "Sir, you need to begin the emergency lock down process." Destiny said, breaking him out of his trance.
         "Right. Destiny, I'm coming to get you."

         He'd then went down to the deepest part of the station, grabbed Destiny's A.I. chip, and went to the Armory, where he'd grabbed his rifle, a couple grenades, and a set of ONI's standard - issue body armor. He then activated the station's defense systems from his datapad, and posted up where he was now, and where he has been for over 12 hours.
         "Henry, you need to eat." Destiny said in his ear.
         "I-I can't. I have to stay here and guard the entrance." He said, shakily. But his stomach disagreed, letting out a loud groan.
         "Well, if you die from starvation, it won't matter where your body is."
         "Shut up."
         "I'm just saying, sir. You really need to eat. Plug my chip into the console over there and I'll watch the entrance with the machine guns. Just, please, go rest for a bit."
         Henry sighed, loosening his grip slightly on the rifle.
         "Fine. I'll be back in a few." He said, getting to his feet.
         He then walked across to the other side of the ramp, where the console was. He was about to put Destiny's chip in, when a loud, heavy thud sounded from the top of the ramp outside.
         Henry stopped in his tracks, staring up the ramp.
         "This is Sierra 298 calling to Gamma Station. Clearance code eight-two-three-one-seven. I've got a squad of wounded marines who need immediate medical attention. Does anyone read me?" The man on Henry's radio said.
         The clearance code checked out.
         Henry reached up and pressed his helmet's comms.
         "I read you Sierra 298.Opening the hatch now." He said.
         "Roger, Gamma Station." 298 responded.
         "Did he say 'Sierra 298'?" Destiny asked, as Henry began punching in the code to open the ramp.
         "Yep." Henry answered.
         "What is a Spartan and a squad of Marines doing this far out?"
         "I don't know, Destiny. His clearance code checks out though, we have to let them in." Henry said, pulling the lever to open the ramp.
         He turned to watch the large metal door slowly slide backward toward him, revealing the dark, star-speckled night sky. At the top of the ramp, was a warthog.
The driver side faced the ramp, with one soldier manning the mounted machine gun on the back, and two others taking cover behind the vehicle. They were obviously injured, both covered in blood stained bandages and barely keeping their heads up and rifles in hand. In the passenger seat, was the Spartan, 298.
As the ramp opened, 298 leapt out of the vehicle and loaded the two injured marines into it. One in the back, one in the passenger seat, before getting in the driver seat himself and pulling the warthog into the station.
Once they were in, Henry closed the hatch once more.
He moved over to the passenger side of the warthog and helped the marine out. Upon closer inspection, Henry realized the soldier was more wounded than he originally thought.
His entire stomach area was filled with biofoam, with blood leaking from the edges. His skin was pale, and he was barely keeping conscious, his eyes rolling back into his skull every so often. He seemed to have been grazed by plasma fire, evidenced by the large burns on his arms and chest.
Henry laid the soldier on the ground next to the warthog. He then stepped over to the console he used to open the ramp, and plugged Destiny into it.
"Bring the Med-Bots." He said.
A small plink sounded over the speakers.
Henry moved back over to the marine on the floor and knelt down next to him. The man looked up to him.
"Thank-Thank you." He choked out.
"Don't talk, just rest. We're gonna patch you up." Henry consoled, placing a hand on the soldier's chest.
The man grabbed Henry's hand and gripped it more tightly than Henry had thought possible for him.
"No... No you're not," he said, coughing a bit. "Take care of Jenkins. He can be saved. Don't bother with me."
Before Henry could argue, the man's grip loosened significantly, and a small, final breath escaped his lips. He was gone.
Henry simply stared down at the body. A wave of shock rolling over his body in chills. This wasn't the first dead body he'd ever seen, thanks to the Covenant, but it still shook Henry to his core to see a person's final moments. He let go of the soldier's hand, closed his eyes, and took of his dog tags with a satisfying snap. Henry placed the tags in his pocket.
A large hand suddenly placed gently on Henry's right shoulder.
"There's nothing you could've done." A deep, somewhat gravelly voice said.
Henry turned and looked up to see the Spartan standing over him. 298 turned his hand and offered it to help Henry up. He took it and got to his feet, amazed at just how tall the man was.
He had heard the stories about Spartans. How they loomed over a normal person, and how they appeared to be not even human. Their helmets giving almost no indication of emotion, but rather a cold, calculating glare.
The Spartan stood over 7 feet tall, well over Henry's pitiful 5 foot 10. His armor was primarily jet black, but had bright green accents that matched with the visor. On his back was an MA5D Assault Rifle, and on his thigh, an M6H2 Magnum.
"Yeah..." Henry managed to say after a moment.
"Are you the only person here?" 298 asked.
"Yes. Me and Destiny, the station's A.I."
"Alright. Does this station have any sort of Long Range communications?"
"No, sir. We lost them when Standoff got hit."
"Understood."
The Spartan then turned and walked away from Henry, moving around the warthog to the other wounded soldier. Henry followed closely behind.
Luckily, the Med-Bots had arrived, and seemed to be stabilizing the man, who Henry assumed was Jenkins.
He seemed to be better off than his fellow marine. He only had minor plasma burns, and a few cuts of shrapnel across his face and forearms. Aside from that, though, he was doing fine.
The Spartan turned to face Henry after seeing that Jenkins was okay.
"Are there any other entrances or exits to the station besides this one?" He asked, gesturing to the ramp.
"No. This is the only one." Henry answered.
"Good. Then this position must be monitored at all times. At least until long range comms are restored. I'll take first watch."
The Spartan then moved away from Henry and took position on the warthog's turret.
Henry stared at the man for a few moments before returning his gaze to the two marines. He knelt down next to the injured one.
"You must be Jenkins?" He asked, calmly.
"Y-Yes, sir. Private Alec Jenkins." He said, shakily.
"Alright, Private. Don't you worry, you're gonna be fine." Henry said, placing a reassuring hand on Jenkins' shoulder.
He then looked to the other marine, who was standing idly by, Assault Rifle in hand.
"And your name?" Henry inquired.
"Corporal James Michelson." The man said, gruffly.
Based on how he talked and was looking at him, Henry could tell that Michelson had issues with ONI. At least with their agents, or 'spooks', as most soldiers called them.
Henry returned his attention to Jenkins.
"Do you think you can walk? If not, we'll have the Med-Bot take you to the Medical Bay." He said.
"I can walk. Might need some help though." Jenkins replied, propping himself up on one shoulder.
"I'll help you." Michelson interjected, almost stepping between Henry and Jenkins.
Henry got to his feet and let Michelson pick up Jenkins.
"Follow the Med-Bot, he'll take you where you need to go." Henry said.
Without another word, the two marines and the Med-Bot left the entrance down a hallway, eventually rounding the corner to the right and heading down the elevator.
Henry watched them go, waiting until the elevator doors closed to move. He first stared at the Spartan again, who stood silently at the turret, watching the ramp.
"You know, if anything tries to get through there, we'll know before they can get in. We'll have plenty of time to take position." He said to the armored man.
"Better to be ready beforehand, than to scramble at the last minute." He said, almost coldly.
"You weren't followed here, were you?"
The Spartan turned his head to look at Henry, who only saw his own reflection staring back at him in the sea of bright green.
"I don't believe so. We had a few Banshees trailing us for awhile, but we took them down about 4 kilometers out from this base." 298 said.
"How did you even know this base was here? It's top secret." Henry prodded.
"ONI isn't the best at keeping secrets. Especially when they spent years training you to find them." He responded, turning again to face the ramp.
Henry remained silent for a few moments.
"Do you have a name? I mean, I don't want to have to call you 'Spartan' or, '298' all the time." He finally said.
"My name is Michael." Michael said, after a few moments of silence.
Henry nodded his head slightly at this, satisfied with what he'd learned.
"My name is Henry." He said.
He then moved away from the warthog and towards the console, where he retrieved Destiny and plugged her into his helmet.
"Not much of a talker, is he?" She said as soon as she could.
"Spartans aren't known for their social skills." Henry replied simply.

Chapter 3 - The Breach.
Planet Reverie, August 22nd, 2558. 3:04 AM.
         Henry sat alone in the warthog parked at the base of the ramp.
         After almost 3 hours of watch, Michael had radioed for Henry to come up and take over for a few hours, with specific instructions to wake him at 4 AM sharp. The Spartan sat against the wall in the hallway, barely 5 feet away from the ramp. His rifle leaned up next to him, and his head drooping slightly.
         As the hours ticked by, Henry also found himself almost dozing off a few times, snapping awake at the last second. At this point, he almost wished the Covenant would try and attack, at least then he wouldn't have to just stare at this ramp.
         No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, a large explosion was heard deep in the facility, shaking the ground under his feet.
         Henry quickly sat up, rifle in hand, and looked around. Michael also was up on his feet in a second, Magnum scanning back and forth.
         "Destiny, what was that?" Henry asked, getting out of the vehicle.
         "I'm not sure, get me in the system." Destiny replied, a small amount of worry seeping in her voice.
         Henry moved over to the console, removed her from his helmet and put her in the console.
         "There's... Been a breach. Level 20, Storage. Camera's don't show anything, but thermal-" She began.
         Suddenly the whole room was bathed in darkness, the humm of the ventilation system and all other machinery stopping in an instant.
         Michael flipped his helmet lights on, and was standing behind Henry, rifle in hand.
         "What the hell was that?" He asked.
         "I'm not sure, Destiny said there was a breach on Level 20. Whoever it was, they must've destroyed the generators." Henry said, as he pulled Destiny from the console and put her back in his helmet.
         A small plink sounded in his ear, and a window displaying a bunch of computer BIOS appeared in the top right corner of his helmet's hud. After a few moments of random text scrolling by, a load bar appeared and filled, causing the window to disappear.
         "That, was not fun." Destiny said in his ear.
         "Thank God you're alright," Henry said, relieved. "What happened?"
         "Just before the power was cut, I managed to get some thermal images of the breach in Storage."
         "Show me, and send them to Michael as well."
         A second later, the images appeared on Henry's hud, and his blood ran cold.
         The images showed 3 Elites, in active camouflage, entering through a large hole in the wall. Behind them, a tunnel that curved backward to the left and out of view.
         "How... How did they-?" Henry started.
         "Doesn't matter. What matters is they got in. Is there any way down to Storage without using the elevators?" Michael interrupted.
         "The elevators will work, they have their own backup batteries." Destiny said.
         "Alright, then I'll go down and hold them off, you need to get Jenkins and Michelson out of here." Michael said, turning and walking toward the hall.
         "Woah, wait. You can't take them on alone!" Henry yelled.
         "I don't need to. I just have to buy you time to get away."
         Michael then turned and ran down the hall, quickly slipping around the corner. Henry began to trod after him.

???

         The elevator stopped finally, it's double doors opening wide and flooding the dark Storage room with a bright red light.
         Michael stepped out of the elevator, rifle raised.
         Before him was a large room, filled to the brim with stacked crates and shelves that had an assortment of items ranging from food and water to guns and medical supplies. It was almost as if the Keeper of the station was intended to live out the rest of his life here.
         He continued moving forward, away from the light. Once shrouded in darkness, Michael crouched behind a crate and switched on his thermal while watching the elevator. Once settled in position, he propped his rifle up and waited, while also listening intently for footsteps.
         After a few moments of nothing, a bright red and orange figure appeared on the left side of Michael's hud. As the figure moved, it was revealed to be a jackal.
         It moved slowly, craning its bird-like head up, down, and around the crates and shelves as it searched around the elevator. Eventually, it ended up right before Michael, raising its shield and moving into the elevator with its back to him.
         Michael continued to lie in wait, but still roughly aimed his rifle at the alien.
         The creature moved into the elevator and looked around, up and down, but when it found nothing, it turned around and began walking out. As it did, Michael got a look at its face and realized something was up.
         He could see the wall of the elevator through the Jackal. It was a hologram.
         Suddenly, a large shelf to Michael's left came tumbling down on top of him.
         This surprised him, not giving him enough reaction time to move, and causing the shelf to pin him to the ground. He quickly got his hands on two of the shelves and pushed with all of his might. The shelf flipped off of Michael, clanging into another, and causing a domino effect as the shelves toppled over one by one.
         Getting to one knee, Michael grabbed his rifle and quickly scanned his surroundings, thermal was clean.
         He stepped out from behind the crates, and was now standing between the rows of shelves. He then placed his rifle on his back, opting instead to use his magnum and knife for such a close quarters engagement.
         Michael moved between the shelves slowly, scanning left to right with his eyes.
         After a few minutes, he reached the other side of the room, and found the large hole the Covenant had come through. He moved in on it.
         As he did, though, he heard a sound from behind him and quickly turned to face it, but was too late.
         The large Sangheili grabbed a hold of Michael's magnum, ripping it from his hand and sending it skittering across the ground. With its other hand, it swung for his head with its energy sword, but Michael quickly ducked, lowering his head, and charged the alien, connecting his right shoulder with its stomach.
         Michael picked up the beast and rammed it into a shelf, causing it to drop the sword. It quickly recovered, though, and brought its hands together, bringing them both down on Michael's back with all of its might. The strength of the blow snapped Michael's Assault Rifle like a twig, and knocked the air out of the Spartan's lungs.
         Gasping for air, Michael fell to his hands and knees just before the monster, which refused to give him a moment. The Elite brought a swift kick directly to the left side of Michael's helmet, cracking the visor and sending him splaying to the ground, flat on his stomach. It then moved for its energy sword.
         Michael quickly regained his breath, taking the few seconds he had to escape. He planted his hands on the ground and pushed up with all his might, catching his feet on the ground and running between the shelves toward the elevator. As he ran, he realized something: the elevator was gone, its red light no longer illuminating the small corner of the room.
         He swiftly ducked into a row of shelves and hid, once more, behind some crates.
         Then, he began to assess his options.
         He had no weapons, and no backup. On top of all of this, the Elite had managed to damage his helmet, causing the thermal to become near useless, so he switched it off. His only option at this point was to lie in wait until the Sangheili exposed himself, giving Michael the opportunity to attack.
         "Come out, little demon." a deep, alien voice spoke from the darkness.
         Michael heard the heavy footfalls moving up between the shelves. It was hunting him.
         "Surrender yourself now, and I will let you die honorably." It gloated.
         Finally, the footfalls stopped right before the row of shelves Michael was hiding in. He couldn't see the creature, but he knew it was looking back and forth.
         Suddenly, and very unexpectedly, the Elite drew his energy sword, bathing his immediate area in a light blue glow. Michael could now see its whole upper body and part of its legs.
         "I reveal myself to you! Now strike!" the Elite bellowed in its low voice.
         When Michael didn't move, the beast began swinging its sword all about, slashing shelves and causing crates to fall everywhere.
         "DEEEEEEEEEEEMON!!!!" It yelled, continuing to swing its sword.
         Michael took the chaos as an opportunity.
         He vaulted over the crate he hid behind and ran to the alien, reaching it in two long leaps. He then jumped onto its back, grabbing its head firmly in his hands, before snapping its neck in a matter of seconds. The large monster fell to the floor, limp, as Michael took its energy sword.
         The Spartan stood over the body in triumph.
         "1 down, 2 to go." He thought to himself, just before the crate smashed over the back of his head.

???

         Henry and the two marines sat in the warthog. Jenkins in the passenger seat, Michelson at the wheel, and Henry himself on the turret. All three watched the hallway intently.
         "Corporal Michelson to Sierra 298, we're ready for extraction, waiting on you. Do you copy!?" Michelson yelled into his radio.
         "Michelson, quit it. We need to go!" Jenkins pleaded.
         "No, we're not leaving him!"
         Michelson continued to radio Michael, but to no avail.
         "You need to say something." Destiny said in Henry's ear.
         "They won't listen to me." Henry replied.
         "Well, you can't just sit here. You need to move."
         "I know that, Destiny. But what you don't understand is that they will not leave without Michael, and if I try to steal the warthog they'll just beat the shit out of me. I'm not a soldier."
         Before Destiny could respond, the sound of the elevator opening at the end of the hall silenced everyone.
         Henry grabbed the two grips of the machine gun and aimed it at the hallway, while Jenkins raised his Magnum, and Michelson his rifle.
         For a few moments, nothing moved, no sounds were made, everything was dead still. All Henry could hear was his own nervous breathing inside of his helmet.
         Suddenly, the sound of footsteps and metal dragging on the floor began to draw nearer down the hallway.
         "Jenkins, when I give the signal, switch on the headlights, okay?" Michelson whispered.
         "Roger." Jenkins said, slowly placing his hand on the switch.
         The sounds continued to draw nearer and nearer, until coming to a dead stop about 20 feet down the hall.
         "NOW." Michelson shout-whispered.
         The lights of the Warthog came to life, revealing two Elites standing in the hallway, each holding a bloodied Michael by one arm.
         Henry was shocked to see the Spartan so diminished.
         His armor was covered in scars and burns, which weren't present before, and his helmet was in a small net on the waist of the left Elite. The visor cracked from a blow on the left side, and a dent on the back of the head. Michael himself had taken a beating. One of his eyes was completely swollen shut, the other barely fluttering open as he tried to stay conscious. His mouth and teeth were coated with blood, and some was dripping off of his lips into his armor.
         "Look at your demon now. Pathetic!" The Elite on the left said, before they both threw Michael to the ground.
         "Fuck you!!!" Michelson yelled, opening fire on the two Sangheili.
         Henry pulled the dual triggers on the turret and began unloading on the two.
         They quickly retreated back into the darkness, shields lighting up in a bright blue.
         "Jenkins, on me! Let's get Michael and get the hell out of here!" Michelson said, getting out of the vehicle.
         "No, let me. Jenkins is too hurt." Henry said, jumping off the back end of the warthog.
         Michelson stared Henry down for a moment, before nodding slightly, and turning around, rifle raised.
         The pair moved up to Michael, who was lying face down on the floor. Henry watched the hall while Michelson rolled the Spartan onto his back.
         "Hey. HEY! Michael, stay with me!" Michelson shouted.
         Michael's one good eye fluttered open, staring at Michelson.
         "T-T..." He started to say.
         "What? What is it?" Michelson asked, panickingly.
         "T-Trap." the Spartan choked out.
         All of a sudden, from the darkness, Michael's helmet came flying past Henry's head.
         He managed to duck right and miss the helmet, but quickly returned his attention to the dark hall, where two energy swords slowly lit up, illuminating the two Elites who were now slowly moving in on them.
         "Woah, Michelson! We gotta move!" Henry yelled, before opening fire on their advancing foes.
         "I know! I know!" Michelson yelled to Henry. "Come on buddy, get on your feet!" He shouted to Michael.
         Miraculously, the Spartan got to his feet, but was leaning on Michelson as much as he could. The pair began moving as Henry laid down very spotty cover fire.
         Henry moved backward with the two, unloading and reloading his battle rifle into the Elites. As he moved, however, he was tripped by Michelson's dropped assault rifle. Henry landed square on his back, hitting his head on the floor and causing his helmet to skid almost 5 feet backward to just under the passenger side of the warthog.
         He quickly rolled onto his stomach and tried to crawl away, but was too late. One of the Sangheili stepped on Henry's right shin, shattering his Tibia. Henry screamed in agony as he was picked up by the alien and held toward the warthog.
         While his leg burned with sharp pain, and his eyes were filling with black spots, Henry tried to see the vehicle.
         Michelson was in the driver seat once more, Jenkins was still in the passenger side, but was now holding Henry's helmet, and Michael was leaning against the turret in the back, barely standing and with his wrecked helmet back on his head.
         "Do not fire, or your friend will suffer the consequences!" The Elite holding Henry shouted.
         He suddenly felt the hot tips of an energy sword near his back.
         "Fight me on equal ground, so that you may die honorably!" The Elite yelled.
         The opposite Elite then lowered his sword and kicked it across the ground toward the warthog.
         "Take up your weapon!"
         "NO!" Henry croaked as loudly as he could.
         "SILENCE YOUR TONGUE!" The Elite boomed, gripping Henry's neck tighter.
         Michael began to move off of the turret, but was stopped by Michelson.
         "No, don't. I'm the only one who can. I'll buy you time, you both get out of here!" Michelson said, getting out of the warthog.
         In that moment, Henry had a realization.
         The Sangheili knew that Michael was the only one who had a chance to take them on. However, he was too badly injured to even compete, and so was Jenkins, leaving only Michelson able to fight, but he was no match. They were going to kill them all one by one. They were playing with them.
Henry knew what he had to do.
He quickly swung his legs forward with all his might, his right leg screaming in pain, and brought them both back, impaling himself on the energy sword.
"GO!" He shouted, as he began to cough up blood from the searing wound that burned through his body. "THE STATION WILL SELF DESTRUCT 10 SECONDS AFTER MY DEATH!"
The Elite then yelled, slicing upward in rage, cutting Henry in half.

???

Although on the edge of unconsciousness and barely staying awake, Michael realized what Henry had done. He'd sacrificed himself so that the station would self destruct, killing any Covenant inside.
Seconds after the Elite had killed him, the hatch at the top of the ramp began to open.
Michelson jumped into the warthog's driver seat, turned the engine over, and gunned it up the ramp.
The trio flew out into the cold, snowy landscape of Reverie that they had just escaped from only hours ago. They landed with a hard thud as the tires squealed and got traction. Upon landing, Michael began to see stars again, but continued to fight and stay awake.
He slowly turned his head to look over his right shoulder, back to where the station was. He saw the two elites come running out after them, but they had no hope of catching up.
Michael continued to watch until a huge fireball engulfed the area, burning the two elites up instantly. The large explosion shook the ground, causing the warthog to bounce a little bit, but Michelson maintained control.
No longer able to hold off unconsciousness, Michael closed his eyes, and everything went black.

Epilogue - In Memory of Henry West.
Planet Earth, August 29th, 2558. 2:36 PM.
         Spartan Michael-298 stood several rows in the back of Henry West's funeral.
         He wasn't formally invited, but felt strongly that he must attend. For Henry's sake.
         There wasn't a large congregations, and most funerals didn't have one, but this made Michael angry for some reason.
         Henry had given everything to ONI. They took him away from his wife and then unborn son, shoved him in a hole for 3 years, and did nothing to save him when the Covenant came knocking.
         Of course, ONI wasn't entirely to blame. Michael was also. If he'd taken care of those Elites in the Storage room like he WAS TRAINED TO DO, maybe Henry would still be alive.
         As much as he didn't like to admit it, the guilt was eating him alive inside, and the real reason he was here was to ease his own conscious and to say he didn't forget Henry.
Quelling his thoughts and emotions swiftly, Michael stood silently at the back of the funeral until the service concluded, and everyone left. Including Henry's wife and son. As they filed out, a few people gave Michael looks. His face was scarred severely from his years of service, and some wounds from Reverie hadn't fully healed. Not to mention the fact that he was still almost 7 feet tall without his armor.
Once everyone was gone, Michael moved to the coffin and laid a hand on it. Of course, it was empty, but he didn't care. Too many heroes had died in the 33 years since the Covenant had began their genocidal campaign against humanity. And too many of those heroes didn't get a proper funeral, so Michael was going to pay his respects while he could.
The sound of light rainfall began to fill the graveyard, and got louder and louder as more rain began to fall. Michael took his hand off of the coffin, and took a moment to observe the tombstone, before turning and leaving the empty casket.