Orion Arm of the Milky Way, Covenant-controlled region beyond the galactic rim.
If one converted this planet's time into the human system of reckoning, it should still have been the early hours before dawn. Most of the surface ought to have been shrouded in heavy darkness.
Yet at this moment, the entire world was ablaze with light.
On this alien world, unknown flora and fauna thrived in rolling waves across the land. From space, green and blue intertwined in brilliant harmony, accented here and there by patches of earthy brown. It was breathtakingly beautiful.
But the cruelty of war left no room for appreciation. Everyone knew that not a single trace of natural light illuminated them now.
Boom—!
Massive pillars of light crisscrossed one another, sweeping back and forth across the heavens.
Scorching winds swept across the plains of what had once been a Covenant colonial planet. Leaves rustled, withering and igniting in the heat.
Lances of light, aerial bombs, and orbital shells screamed down from space. The artillery fire was impossibly dense, blotting out the sky. Earth-shaking explosions began to ravage the once flourishing land.
In the blinding firelight, rows upon rows of neatly planned alien-style buildings trembled and shuddered under the relentless bombardment. Under the force of the shockwaves, they swayed, collapsed, and disintegrated. Shattered debris mingled with blood mist, drifting through the air like falling snow.
Each brighter flash heralded another deafening detonation. Towering flames spread rapidly along anything flammable, until the ground was filled with the cries and screams of aliens. Many of the fortunate survivors of the blasts had no time to flee before they were swallowed by the inferno.
Soon, writhing dragons of fire coiled across the surface, accompanied by ceaseless explosions. To the devout alien worshippers of the Covenant, it seemed as though a terrible divine punishment had descended upon them.
Boom boom boom boom!!
Behind the viewports, the newly enlisted soldiers of the Imperial Servitor Army, participating in their first campaign, stared blankly at the scene, utterly shaken by the spectacle they had never witnessed before.
In low orbit, aboard the flagship of the Astartes Second Legion Retributors fleet—the Imperial Fury—Imperial Great General Budo and his subordinate, General Sakazuki, silently watched the burning tableau below the warship, the planet's surface turning red.
Separated by thick armored glass, they could not personally feel the planet's former freshness or the artificial searing heat. Yet the vast stretches of ignited land bore the unmistakable scars left by war's merciless advance.
"So this is the strategy your boys came up with?"
With his hands clasped behind his back, Budo watched countless streaks of light fall at astonishing speed from above, blooming into brilliant fireworks upon the surface. Without turning his head, he spoke in a low voice.
"Nathaniel has already made contact with human civilization in Universe 117. He is currently en route to their frontline command headquarters on Reach and has reached an agreement with certain high-ranking figures within their leadership. I believe this is an opportunity."
Behind Budo, within a holographic projection, the pale-faced Legion Commander of the Eighth Legion, Konrad Curze, with black hair and dark eyes, briefly outlined his plan.
"Using Nathaniel's reconnaissance vessel as an anchor point, we can conduct large-scale, precision troop deployment."
"You mean a decapitation strike?" Budo turned, his gaze sharp.
Konrad Curze nodded. "More precisely, a forced decapitation landing. Through collaborators within the military forces of the Unified Earth Government, my men have established considerable rapport and understanding with one of their bio-enhanced special operations squads."
"With that, even if their high command still distrusts us, they will at least not refuse a meeting. After all, it is their own armed forces headquarters. If they lacked even that much courage, they would not have endured more than twenty years of war against the Covenant."
"So you intend to control the senior leadership of the United Nations Space Command and compel them to submit?" Budo asked.
"Curze, your plan must go beyond that... Or is this merely a feint? A smokescreen?"
"Correct." Konrad Curze shook his head with faint regret. "If only it were that simple."
If it were a single planet, a single planetary system, or even several isolated systems, he was confident he could seize control after a decapitation strike with full commitment of force. But the colonies of the Unified Earth Government were too numerous and too dispersed. For now, his Legion could not accomplish that.
"Although many reconnaissance reports indicate that human civilization in this universe is far from united—riddled with contradictions, with clear evidence of repeated schisms and civil wars—"
In addition to harassing the Covenant, the other Imperial Navy fleet under Konrad Curze's command had frequently infiltrated distant colonies of the Unified Earth Government, gathering substantial intelligence.
"Most of that concerns remote colonies. The near-Earth colonies they have carefully cultivated have enjoyed peace for centuries, aside from records of a civil war several hundred years ago. If we resort purely to force, the resistance may not be any weaker than the Covenant's."
"I never intended to paralyze an interstellar civilization with a single decapitation strike. Conflict is inevitable. My aim is merely to disable their military core and reduce avoidable losses as much as possible."
With so many inhabited and garrisoned worlds under the Unified Earth Government, whether the Holy Selene Empire crushed them one by one or the UNSC fought to the bitter end, the destruction of infrastructure would be unavoidable. What he intended was to preserve those 'assets.'
To put it arrogantly, in Konrad Curze's eyes, all of humanity's infrastructure—and even its population—already belonged to Her Majesty the Empress.
"By now, Nathaniel and his team should be nearing Reach."
"As long as you've considered it thoroughly. Act boldly. If you need me to provide cover or resources, contact me at any time," Budo said heartily.
"Very well. I'll proceed at once..." Konrad Curze inclined his head slightly before terminating the transmission.
For a moment, the bridge fell silent.
"That's enough. Cease the bombardment." Budo turned his head. "Sakazuki, you will lead the operation. Eliminate the diehard aliens on the surface. Any who incite resistance and refuse to surrender—execute them all. Build mounds of heads."
"Yes, sir."
...
Reach.
Capital city. Fleet Command Headquarters—the location of the United Nations Space Command central command, Manassas.
If Earth was the political, economic, and cultural center of the UNSC, then Reach, with its formidable military power, was its military heart.
At the same time, Reach was currently humanity's largest source of non-automated titanium production.
The largest and most active naval shipyards of the UNSC were located on Reach. The training grounds for elite forces—including the UNSC Spartans and the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers (ODSTs), the so-called Helljumpers—were also situated here. Moored in orbit was a powerful carrier strike group centered around the supercarrier Trafalgar.
In near orbit, twenty orbital defense platforms had been deployed around the planet, protected by carrier-based fighter wings and multi-role tactical warships.
Under the powerful detection capabilities of the orbital defense platforms, fluctuations at a slipspace transition point were detected immediately and transmitted to the surface command center.
"Admiral Parangosky, according to entry and exit records, there are no UNSC vessels scheduled to return during this time window."
Dressed in a dark United Nations Space Command officer's uniform, the solidly built middle-aged admiral, Margaret Parangosky, stared sternly at the slipspace exit displayed on the screen.
"Is it a Covenant fleet?"
"No, Admiral. Its construction style is distinctly human. It resembles... Gothic architecture popular in Europe during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries."
On the screen, a massive prow slowly emerged from the rippling slipspace aperture like the head of a sea beast rising from the depths. Every surface bristled with ranks of weapon batteries. Engine thrusters larger than those of most human warships burned with blazing plasma light, like captive suns blazing in the void, radiating heat and brilliance.
"That's good." Parangosky let out a slight breath. If it was not the Covenant but human, then there was still the possibility of negotiation. She issued the order: "Open a channel."
"Demand identification and have them power down their engines. Any unnecessary movement will be treated as hostile action. They will bear the consequences."
"Admiral, they're transmitting an open-channel communication... Wait—Spartan Silver Team signals have been detected aboard that vessel... Admiral, it's the Master Chief."
An operator reported loudly.
"Spartans? The Master Chief? Why would they be on that ship?"
After a brief pause, Parangosky said, "Go. Invite Dr. Halsey here." She placed deliberate emphasis on the word "invite."
"That won't be necessary, ma'am. I'm already here."
The command room hatch opened. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey, blonde and blue-eyed, dressed in a white technician's lab coat, walked in with composed steps. "Ma'am, how may I assist?"
Parangosky stared at her for several seconds before speaking in a low voice. "Catherine... do you know something?"
"Yes. It was John. I asked him to extend an invitation to a resistance force."
"A resistance force? An invitation? Catherine Elizabeth Halsey, I trust you understand what you're doing." Parangosky's voice rose sharply, drawing glances from the surrounding staff.
Realizing the misunderstanding, Halsey spread her hands, a faint smile on her lips. "A resistance force specifically engaged in fighting the Covenant. Not the insurrectionists from the outer colonies as you assume. They are powerful warriors. They come bearing goodwill—and a 'gift.'"
Parangosky's expression turned incredulous. "You're suggesting a civilian militia that specializes in combating the Covenant?"
"With that outdated, ostentatious, impractical refitted pleasure cruiser?" Her tone dripped with skepticism.
Even the regular UNSC forces often paid a heavy price for every victory against the Covenant.
As for the armed groups in the outer colonies—anyone with the slightest bit of sense knew that if the UNSC truly committed to suppressing them, they would have been crushed long ago.
The current stalemate existed only because of public opinion pressures and concerns over human unity. The official forces had been forced into a restrained approach. Heavy weapons were out of the question. Even modest troop reinforcements were politically sensitive.
At the slightest disturbance, protests, strikes, and riots erupted.
The more the Holy Selene Empire learned about the Unified Earth Government, the more stark the contrast became.
Under the Empire's absolute imperial centralization, the authority of the central government had reached unprecedented heights under Empress Selene. Let alone an imperial decree—if the Imperial Ministry of Internal Affairs issued an order, what region would dare defy it?
By the next day—no, by that very day—Imperial assassination and suppression units would arrive.
At that moment, a communications officer seated at a console to the left called out, "Admiral, they've sent a video transmission."
"Display it on the central console," Parangosky ordered.
"Yes, ma'am!"
As the connection established, the holographic display above the central console projected the incoming feed.
Before Halsey could fully process what she was seeing, Nathaniel's voice sounded in her ears.
On the holographic screen, a pale yet strikingly handsome warrior appeared. Under the puzzled gazes of everyone in the command room, he greeted Halsey with casual familiarity.
"Dr. Halsey, we meet again. As promised, I've brought you a package—alien captives, including Unggoy, Kig-Yar, Yanme'e, and Jiralhanae."
"Please designate a landing zone. I will dispatch transport craft to deliver our goodwill."
Hearing this, Halsey turned to look at Admiral Parangosky.
"As expected, Dr. Halsey. Your little maneuvers never cease," Parangosky said meaningfully. "This time, regarding the matter before the Security Council, I assure you—it will not be overlooked." Her displeasure was unmistakable.
The next moment, her tone shifted. "Provide them with a flight path. Only the transport craft are permitted to land." Despite her irritation with Halsey's actions, Parangosky decided to see these so-called warriors in person.
This was Reach—the seat of the United Nations Space Command. She had every confidence she could handle a handful of unknown bio-enhanced soldiers.
Though the video feed had been limited, the pale warrior appeared to be wearing a heavy suit of powered armor, reminiscent of the long-retired Mjolnir Mark I and Mark II armor once used by the UNSC Parangosky remained cautious, but not particularly intimidated.
Soon, on the central holographic display, two Thunderhawk gunships launched from the belly of the cruiser that had obediently taken position at the designated coordinates. Escorted by UNSC space fighters, they descended slowly into Reach's atmosphere.
"Come along, Dr. Halsey. To the landing pad." Parangosky's eyes narrowed slightly. "Let me see exactly what you're planning."