Author's Notes:

A/N from Rain Fire: Regarding Russ and his lack of boisterousness, I am basing him off the changes to his personality in the novella Wolf King. He comes to a realisation that his company needs to be known for more and that he himself needs to expand. From that point he essentially has become more thoughtful (not necessarily in the nice way) and a little bit more reserved … but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t show his primal side!

A/N from Word Worthy: Annnnd after a long while, we're back with another gargantuan chapter! About the new scene formating, I have given the scenes titles from here on out as homage to the old Halo tradition of campaign missions having named and often tongue-in-cheek chapters! The formatting will be transferred over to the prior chapters as well when I have a free moment to do so.

On behalf of Rain Fire and myself, we hope you enjoy!

In Cobalt Clad
Fenris, Aurora, Aett: Fortress of the Capricorn Fangs of Fenris
Wednesday, 23rd June 2551 CE Celestial Standard Calendar

Chiming from a cobalt telekinetic field was heard by all present as it continued to envelope a bolter rifle. Luna appraised the weapon hovering before her one final time with a nod of approval, before she then shifted her eyes to another variant.

The first rifle Luna was currently holding bore the stamp of the House of Winter. It was made of a titanium-tungsten alloy for ensured durability that possessed a silver-coloured finish etched with Capricorn runic script.

“Asaheim pattern bolter. Relatively old in its base design, but it was made somewhat recently. Some things don’t change,” Russ stated in a thoughtful voice.

“Interesting, but what of the other?” Luna asked analytically. She set the first bolter rifle aside for the moment to inspect the other.

“Same Asaheim pattern, but the make is ageless. Forged in an era that you don’t recall, by hands that even I can’t remember,” Russ replied.

Unlike its modern counterpart, the second bolter variant was clearly of a more advanced manufacturing material, an alloy of mithril and some other metal that neither Luna nor Cortana could identify. The underside of the grip was stamped with the same winged star insignia that adorned the floor of the moot chamber atop the Aett, while the aiming sights could assume different configurations in a manner that defied gravity. The rifle sported a bayonet composed of the same solid light-principled technology Luna and her friends had recently seen prior in many portions of Russ’ keep.

“I would like to test both of these variants in practice combat to gauge my preference, while we await the arrival of the ferries to the ship that hangs above us all,” Luna stated. She stole a glance at the Master Chief, who had been studying the Capricorn weapons in a similar fashion. “No doubt the Chief can echo this sentiment.”

The Chief nodded. “That’s true.”

“Here, let me show you our weapon range,” Russ said before leading the two to a pair of open doors connected to the armoury.

The doors lead into a room larger than the armoury but smaller than the vast forge they both were a part of. There were a total of twenty-one firing ranges, and despite the demonstration of such high technology in some parts of the Aett, the ranges themselves were rather simple and low-tech by Trixie and the Chief’s standards.

The targets consisted of humanoid dummies made of miscellaneous material, clad in varied and sometimes mismatched sections of rusted, failed prototype power armour suits.

“Over the years, our Iron Shamans improve our armour and make new ones. The failures are used for target practice. What better way to test our weapons then against some of the toughest armour in the galaxy?” Russ asked to no one in particular.

The dummies that the discarded armours themselves were over had a vaguely saurian profile, with glaring slitted eyes and a lizard’s snout that bore a set of crudely drawn, snarling needle-like teeth whose visage suggested they were specialized for eating newborns.

Luna, Russ, and the others approached the nearest range, and it was then that Luna began to charge her horn for the spell she had been preparing in her head for the past several moments. The room was filled with a not as blinding flash of light as the previous occurrence in Canterlot, and Luna’s equine body was replaced with that of her unclothed humanoid form once more.

While the Chief and Trixie’s reactions were now devoid of even a modicum towards shock, the sudden unexpected usage of the spell still caught Trixie herself off guard. Much to Luna’s combined confusion and mild amusement, Russ on the other hand lacked any form of surprise at the transformation whatsoever.

“Don’t stay like that too long now, sister. Might catch more than a cold what with the lack of fur,” Russ stated casually.

“My kind’s hearts and blood burn with a light that rivals the stars, Praetor Russ,” Luna retorted. “Cold is night inconsequential with only extreme exceptions.”

Russ laughed at Luna’s response as he shook his head, “Walk around the Aett like that for some time, and you’ll understand what I meant.”

“Trixie understands only partially why you transformed yourself once again,” Trixie said with puzzlement.

“While the compact build of most ponies such as thyself, Trixie, are mostly suitable as they are for a crossbow analog such as this, the likes of sister and myself as well as Saddle Arabians lack the ideal flexibility to shoulder such weapons for firing,” Luna explained as she experimentally grasped the House of Winter bolter rifle with graceful fingers.

A sudden mechanical noise caused the alicorn to turn to look at the Chief, who had already grabbed one of the other modern bolter rifles. He had the rifle levelled and had cocked it, chambering the rounds from the magazine for firing as an inner intuition guided his movements.

What occurred next captured Luna’s attentive interest and even managed to slightly impress Russ.

Aiming down range at the strange armoured lizard dummy, the Chief experimentally fired a three-round burst. The heavy rounds hit the target with explosive force, tearing through the badly corroded armour like paper and reducing the dummy beneath to an unrecognizable smoking heap of debris that could have once been straw.

“Impressive. Perhaps these humans have improved over the years,” Russ said with a small smirk.

“Perhaps ‘upgraded’ is a more accurate word for it,” the Chief replied, as he stowed the still smoking bolter onto the magnetic clip on the back of his armour beside his UNSC assault rifle. “This is ideal for the sprawling corridors of a Covenant ship.”

“Trixie can see the grenades accidentally being set off by small arms fire already,” Trixie muttered to herself as she watched.

“Ha! Thou wields that bolter effortlessly as Russ surely does, then it shall surely be no challenge for myself as well!” Luna then proceeded to ready her bolter in the same manner she had seen the Chief do, and shouldered the weapon. Unlike the supersoldier, however, Luna proceeded inadvertently to fire on full-automatic setting towards the center of the target.

The Chief’s target dummy had been reduced to a suit of punched-through armour whose ‘wearer’ had been effectively minced. In stark contrast, Luna’s own dummy was now a steaming pile of what had once been a suit of corroded power armour and its wearer.

By now, Trixie was all but scowling at her lack of such a weapon.

While her Equestrian-made bright rifle was capable of incineration of targets in precise areas, such full-scale bodily destruction was only achievable through oftentimes exhausting magical augmentation from her spells. On top of that, the fact existed that simply using all out spells and no rifle or just her rifle and no destruction spells was more efficient for most combat situations.

Russ took note of Trixie’s scowl and offered a suggestion. “Worry not about the bolter. If you wish to wield one of our weapons, our bolt pistols should suffice. They do not carry the same capacity or kick, but the damage is the same”

He had forgotten to tell them that bolt pistols were a much more scaled down version of a bolter. Trixie nodded with satisfaction and proceeded to choose from the myriad bolt pistols back in the armoury that the Aett possessed which could complement her current standard-issue rifle.

The Praetorian Knight-Errant destroyed a third target dummy using what looked like a specially designed bolt pistol, and Luna followed up by testing the ancient bolter, which achieved the same explosive killing power but with more of an accompanying light show from the weapon’s less mundane projectiles.

“Hmm … something about this ancient bolter calls to me,” Luna commented. “This and and a pair of bolt ‘pistols’ from the same era of manufacture shall be our weapons of choice! Sir Russ, the weapon you use … it appears different than the rest.”

“Interesting … unidentified alloys and munitions, hints of more robust manufacturing techniques in its construction … and exotic magical signatures,” Cortana mused. “It’s like this bolt pistol is an evolution of the simpler models I am aware are in prevalence across Capricorn populations. Either that, or if we wanted to get IMI-tier crazy, we could assume it came from another plane of reality. ”

Russ grinned at the small AI as well as Luna before popping another shot down range. He swiftly pulled the half used mag out and tossed it aside before grabbing another. “This bolter is from a time and place none will remember. Enough of this practice, let us bloody our weapons with xenos blood.”

“Agreed, Sir Russ! Come let us depart for the Divinity,” Luna said with brief hesitation at how the giant capricorn had dodge the topic of his bolter.

It took her only a few steps before numerous voices spoke up in order to halt her. The two most prominent being Cortana and Russ.

“Perhaps you should acquire some armour first, Luna,” Cortana offered, having immediately spoken up from her silent perusing of Tolfidr’s weapon data. For a brief moment Luna looked confused, until she looked down to remember that she had no clothing or covering to speak of in her current form.

“Ah yes, t’would seem that we forgot something,” Luna replied bashfully, earning a mild chuckle from Russ.

“While I’m sure it would be a tale to remember, a raid on a enemy ship should be done with some protection,” Russ stated, a broad grin split across his face.

“The appointment with Rarity would have really prevented this awkwardness on her part,” Trixie muttered in asides to the Chief.

“And being sized by an armorsmith that also designs civilian high fashion wouldn’t be somewhat awkward?” the Chief asked quietly back.

“Touche,” Trixie said with a thoughtful frown.

“Is there enough time to fashion a suit of armour, Praetor Russ?” Luna inquired.

“Fashioned? Haha! Come, Luna. I have another gift for you,” Russ said before gesturing her to follow him back through the doors to the armoury. Instinctively she followed, not bothering to worry about her naked form. When they re-entered the armoury, more than a few capricorn gazes leveled on Luna. Previously busy mares and stallions alike peeked over at the shape-shifted alicorn.

Of course, that was until Tolfdir began yelling at them to get back to whatever they were doing.

Luna’s curiosity rose even higher when Russ proceeded to lead her through the doors he had disappeared through earlier. When her companions tried to follow, the door slammed shut in front of them, much to the vocal protests from Trixie. The moment she was cut off from her companions, a form of instinct told her that something wasn’t right.

“Where are you leading us, Leman?” Luna asked, her voice taking on an icy quality, unsure and wary about what was happening. He was leading her down a dimly lit hallway that seemed to end in only one room.

“Only a select few have access to this room. The Wolf Lord of each company and the Elder Iron Shaman. In here, are some of our greatest treasures, and creations,” Leman Russ replied, not even bothering to look back at her. “It is in here that I kept your gift.”

The door to the room automatically slid open the moment Russ stepped near it; the room beyond was pitch black to even Luna’s alicorn senses. She instinctively began to cast a light spell to give illumination to the room, only to have Russ’ hand clamp down on her shoulder. A protest rose in her throat but was squashed when the room’s lights lit up to reveal a bedazzling spectacle.

Sprawled along the walls of the room were dozens upon dozens of weapons, many of which were nothing like the ones that were displayed in the armoury. Despite a small scattering of bolters and their variants, most weapons seemed other worldly and beyond anything Luna could even comprehend.

Yet that wasn’t all, for every few meters of weapon lined wall, there was a small alcove which kept what looked like armour behind pulsing shields of blue. The few that Luna could see were much the same as the weapons, in that they looked nothing like the armour worn by Capricorns or the armour she had seen her companions use.

That wasn’t to say that there wasn’t Capricorn power armour for in the center she saw multiple shield stands of marking-adorned power armour. Personal identifiers, much akin to the ones she had seen on the Fangs who had roamed the halls, marked each armour as unique in a way. Yet there was a common aspect to each suit of armour … they all had damage to them. Whether it was a chunk blown out of the armour or a single hole that pierced them, each one was damaged in some way or another.

“This is where we honour but some of our greatest achievements. Sure we tell stories, and recant tales of old, but in here is where those sagas come back to gruesome reality,” Russ spoke as he slowly paced down to the far side of the room, Luna following him with slower strides, her eyes trying to take in every sight. Yet Russ wasn’t done talking. “I do hope that you can keep a secret, Cortana. I wouldn’t want to have to let Tolfdir loose on such a valuable asset.”

Slightly surprised at being called upon, despite her often quietly-occupied nature, Cortana’s holographic form appear from above Luna’s wrist. “I’m sure Tolfdir would welcome the nigh impossible challenge. Don’t worry, Praetor, I can keep a secret.”

“Good. Now come here, Luna,” Russ replied before gesturing to his side. Luna followed, though curious as to why Leman was standing in front of a blank portion of the wall. Though upon further inspection, it wasn’t entirely blank. There was but a small button on it, barely recognizable due to a rather similar colour pallette. “Why don’t you do the honours.”

Tentatively, Luna pushed the button, only to earn a hissing sound in response. She pulled back her finger slowly as the wall itself seemed to collapse upon itself, slowly becoming little more than a meter stick in size, then promptly sliding into the floor.

There, in the newly created alcove was a set of armour, much like Russ’ but more lithe in its design. The pauldrons and sabatons were much sleeker in their shape, as if they were designed for a being that preferred nimble movement to the bulking protection of the Fangs. Yet there was an additional neckguard to the armour that the Fang’s didn’t have.

The colour scheme, though, caught Luna’s attention the most. The base of it was a deep blue, extremely close to her fur colour in her pony form, while the midsection seemed to gleam with a sparkling silver look, as if it was polished hundreds of times over. The hardened mesh that was barely visible in between the pieces of armor was pitch black, almost making it look as if there was nothing there.

That same blackness seemed to adorn the outlines of a twelve pointed star that had alternating sizes in its points. Inside the star was a black circle, and lastly there seemed to be a set wings spreading out from behind the star itself. Finally, almost making a double cross, starting from the lower midsection and branching out underneath the chest plate and above it, was another pitch black trim.

“What is it?” Luna barely whispered out, as if she already knew the answer to her question. There was an odd sense of familiarity to the armour, as though she had seen it in but a dream.

“This is yours, sister. It has been awaiting you,” Russ said as if the armour itself had a mind of its own.

“But how? How do you have such a thing? Tell me, Praetor Russ!” Luna yelled, turning to Russ in haste, the whole scene almost too much for her.

“I can’t, Luna. Not now,” Russ replied with a somber tone, any sign of his typical grin had long since faded.

“No! We cannot handle all of this mystery! Tell us now, brother!” Luna yelled, her voice containing more confusion than anything. Russ stood there for a moment, letting Luna seethe at him, before she finally calmed down, any anger she had slowly leaving her. “We need to know.”

“I know, Luna, I know. Yet it is not up to me. If it was, I would tell you, know that,” Russ said before slowly walking back towards the door. “Now, get suited up … the system will not protect itself.”

Luna wanted to prod further, to search for her answers but she couldn’t deny that Russ was right. The system she called home was under attack and she needed to be prepared to face the Covenant head on. She sighed lightly before walking up to her armour. She moved to pull a piece down to put it on but instead she heard a mechanical hiss as two padded clamps descended from the ceiling, gripping around her sides and lifting her up slightly.

Initially she struggled against the clamps around her midsection, but when the leggings of the armour shifted from its resting spot, via metal arms, she relaxed. It was automated, and she wouldn’t have to do a thing.

“Interesting, this all seems amazingly advanced compared to Capricorn technology anywhere else on the planet. Even more so than what we’ve already seen,” Cortana said from a floating position next to Luna. Luna didn’t respond, and instead just nodded her head in agreement.

Slowly, piece by piece, the armour was pulled onto Luna, the ceramite weighing down on her only slightly. She noticed that when the armour was attached to her that the insides showed off what looked like servos and gears just on the outside of the padding. It only brought forth more questions from Luna, as she was unable to move the armour initially.

“How do you suppose we operate these things?” Luna asked Cortana, who was busy inspecting every inch of her armour.

“I’m trying to understand that as well. There doesn’t seem to be anything to power them up, and I have no data about them. Perhaps the Praetor will know,” Cortana offered.

Yet the question was answered for Luna when she felt a prick in the back of her neck. Instinctively she reached back to feel the area that had been pinched, but her attention instantly snapped to the fact she had control over the power armour’s motor functions. It was amazing, for she barely even needed to do more than move as she would normally. The armour seemed to sense every little twitch her body did.

“Astound-” Luna spoke but cut herself off as her vision flickered for a moment before she noticed things in her field of view. Specifically a small, featureless, and see through area map in the top right of her view that included a large green blip in about the same spot as where Russ was standing by the door. Not only that but there was a counter in the bottom left that read straight zeroes. Finally in the bottom right looked to be a listing of titles and names but it was tough to make out at first.

“Ahh, I see the armour still functions properly. Do let Tolfdir know if there is any issue with the software,” Russ’ seemingly echoed from inside her own head. Luna spun her head left and right so as to find the Praetor initially, yet she noticed that he hadn’t moved from his position by the door.

“What is this? What am I seeing in my vision?” Luna asked, shocked completely by the sudden additions.

“Amazing!” Cortana spoke up from right in front of her. “I’ve seen this before … ocular integration with the suit’s systems, voiceless network communication by way of quantum entanglement, and integrated neural motor control! This … this is the equivalent of Spartan Mjolnir armour if it had gone through centuries of reiteration and enhancement!”

“There is a symbol on the inner section of your neckguard. If you press it, you can insert your AI companion into the slot,” Russ spoke up once more, Luna noticing that his lips were never moving. Luna hesitantly pressed the symbol with a gauntleted finger. It popped open just enough to comfortably fit Cortana’s data crystal chip into.

Quickly, she reached into her dropped satchel and pulled the small thing out, before sliding it into place.

Instantly, an empty bar appeared across her field of view, one that filled with a light blue tinge within but a second. In the top right of her field of view materialized briefly an awestruck-looking Cortana.

“This is appearing continuously similar to how Mjolnir armour operates. When we are done I will need more time to test the features of this,” Cortana said before her avatar disappeared from view. “Can you still hear me, Luna?”

“We can hear you, Cortana. Truly, this armour is something amazing,” Luna replied.

“Grab your bolters, Luna, we need to get you some more ammo. There are magnetic locks on the side of your hips … oh and pick a melee weapon from my stock then meet us back in the armoury,” Russ said before leaving the room. Yet he spoke one more time. “Consider this a birthday present.”

“Birthday? ‘Tis not our birthday yet!” Luna replied, only to hear chuckling on the other end of the frequency. Shaking her head, Luna took her bolters in hand before attaching them to her sides, much like Russ suggested. “Now, what to choose …”

She glanced over to one segment of the wall, noticing an assortment of exotic looking weapons. Hammers and axes that had intricate designs yet also possessed an aura of energy radiating off of them. Luna preferred ranged magic and weaponry in the form of black powder weapons from her era, and saw swords as largely ceremonial symbols of command or for fencing by and large, but she could see Russ’ views on keeping a melee weapon on hand for direct combat.

Eventually her eyes caught glance of a sword that glowed a light blue. She could feel the enchantments on the sword as well as see the sharpness of its edges. The design itself was simple, a long blade with a section in the middle near the crossguard that held the runes of enchantment, while the crossguard had a wolf skull in the center of it.

“This will do,” Luna stated as she pulled the weapon off of the rack and walked out of the room, letting the door close behind her. She didn’t bother to experimentally swing the sword as she could feel the weight was perfectly balanced. The magic in the sword was doing its job; the blade already felt like it was a natural extension of Luna’s own hand. Though, she would need to ask Russ how she was supposed to stow the three weapons at once without a sheath or straps.

By the door leading back to the armoury, Russ stood there waiting for her. As they emerged from the corridor that lead back to the armoury, they were greeted by the sight of a still wary and worried Trixie as well as the likes of the Chief and Elder Tolfdir.

Both of the latter were near a stand of modern light Capricorn armour with their sides parallel to the others, and the Chief was in the middle of putting his helmet over the crown of his head.

“Have you any observational thoughts on our armour from the helmet alone, Spartan?” Tolfdir asked as he thoughtfully stroked his beard.

The Chief turned to look at him as he snapped the Mjolnir helmet in place with a brief hiss of air. “Durable and comfortable, but unfortunately I don’t have two horns.”

“Few of us like wearing the helmet as well,” Russ spoke up as he strode through the armoury and towards the hangar, the others following while Trixie gawked at and the Chief approvingly appraised Luna’s new armour. “It hinders our senses more than we’d like.”

“Speaking of senses, how are the senses of such an ancient mechanical being as Bjorn’s? More to the point, I am curious if there is anything more you can currently share with us about his kind,” Cortana said, seemingly combining Luna’s sense of curiosity with her own, her inquiries regarding the subject thereby escalating Luna’s own curiosity to new heights.

“My senses are fine, better than anything you have ... little girl” Bjorn replied, not bothering speak further, leaving the second part of Cortana’s statement hanging in the air.

“Bjorn likes to pretend he rarely speaks. You just need the right topic to earn an ear-full from him,” Russ stated as he patted the side of the metallic wolf. “That isn’t the right topic.”

“Fascinating and all, but our transport has at last arrived!” Trixie interjected, having recovered from her surprise at Luna’s new attire and gesturing a hoof energetically at the hangar opening.

A Hippogriff dropship made its way into the hangar with a prominent hum of its thrusters, and Luna was quick to analyze the newest modern flying machine that had just now entered her proximity.

The craft could be best described as a much larger, elongated version of a Wyvern dropship. Instead of side cabin doors, the much taller and spacious troop bay opened only in the rear.

Peering in past the waiting and urgent-faced flight crew that had gathered at the opening bay door, Luna could tell with Cortana’s input that the Hippogriff was large enough to carry human, Equestrian, and any other Concordat races’ main battle tanks and even various types of war beast inside with room for infantry seats and equipment to spare.

“So it has!” Luna exclaimed. “Let us now board the Divinity, but in full regalia.”

Bjorn surprised the group as they all proceeded to make their way towards the awaiting dropship by completely changing his physical form in front of them. The Promethean Wolf dropped to all fours, and the musculature-like silver metal of his lupine body began to re-arrange itself into a quadrupedal form.

Within seconds, Bjorn had altered himself into the visage of a massive breed of wolf native to the planet. His regular hand had turned into the mechanical equivalent of a wolf’s paw, while his unique clawed hand on the other leg still remained unaltered

“Wait … what did he do?” Cortana asked Russ. The whole group stopped in its tracks to observe the final stages of the process.

“He did what it takes to get inside our transport vessel. He probably won’t fit right no matter,” Russ replied, once more somewhat dancing around the question. He looked over to the transformed Bjorn before speaking once more. “I still say you should act as my mount; imagine the terror on our enemy’s faces.”

“You are my Praetor, Russ but if you try that … I will make you bare your neck,” Bjorn replied in turn, causing Leman to chuckle and pat the mechanical wolf on his back.

“Fair enough, Bjorn. Now let us depart, I long for a change of pace from this down time. I’ve been away from the fight for too long,” Russ responded before loping over to the landed dropship. The duo made their way up the ramp of the dropship, with Russ easily fitting into the area main area, while Bjorn had to make himself as small as possible to even fit in the given space.

The nearest of the flight crew, a pegasus stallion with fur the colour of dull slate covered by a white flight suit with blue trim, waving them in as he looked between Luna’s group and his fetlock-mounted data pad.

“Welcome aboard!” he said with a slightly raised and rapidly-flowing voice over the thrusters’ sounds. “Her Highness Princess Luna … in an oddly changed form, Master Chief Petty Officer John-117, Praetorian Knight-Errant Trixie Lulamoon all present and accounted for, en route from the also inexplicably changed Capricorn Volda Hamarki to … dear gods almighty! Who might you and the robot wolf be? If the Princess can vouch for you two, then enjoy the ride.”

“We do, they are with us,” Luna confirmed.

While Luna spoke, Russ gave a blank stare at the pegasus before crouching down in front of him. It was obvious to Luna and her companions that in his eyes there was irritation; obvious enough that even the pegasus could see it. “If the ride is going to end with Covenant blood on my blade, then I will enjoy it.”

He promptly stood up and walked to a seat near the loading ramp before sitting down and gazing out of the ramp at the rest of the hangar as the bay door began to close, concealing it from view. Everyone else took a seat, placing their weapons securely in the narrow micro-telekinetic alcoves between each seat, while Bjorn laid down in between the seats, as his size was far too great for any seat.

“Not so straightforward, unfortunately. Not yet, but certainly an effective mindset. Alright pilots, take us up!” With everyone aboard, the Hippogriff took off from the hangar and zoomed towards the waiting warship above.

While in the first few moments of the flight, another of the Equestrian flight crew, a gryphoness much to Luna’s curiosity, was in the middle of equipping her beak-framing white flight helmet as she briefed them. She arched a feathered brow before lowering the helmet. “Your Highness, when we touch down in the hangar, we’ll be heading straight to the bridge. The Imperial Admiralty is anticipating the first enemy slipspace ruptures in about half an hour somewhere around the orbit of Tranquility, so expect a terse atmosphere.”

“We are never one to mince words, so unlike the warship We are to forcefully board, that which We are about board on peaceful circumstance shall hold no alien atmosphere to Us,” Luna said, resuming usage of her prior speech, to Russ’s slight annoyance.

The gryphoness smiled at her with intelligent violet eyes before turning to tend to a set of equipment that line one of the bay’s walls. It wasn’t long before the same gryphon turned around again, noting Luna’s constantly lingering air of curiosity.

“Your Highness, would you fancy a quick look from the cockpit?” the gryphoness offered, gesturing towards the forward section of the dropship at the largest door up a short ramp.

Luna looked to the others, and after a series of encouraging nods, she got up from her seat and followed the officer’s lead to the rather roomy cockpit. Two pegasi pilots, a stallion and a mare with visored but crestless Imperial Legion-styled helmets, were seated at the controls on either side. Sprawling banks of controls and readouts were in front of them, between them, and behind them.

The stallion looked towards Luna for a second and waved her forward encouragingly before returning his eyes to the what lay in front of him. Luna took the cue as enthusiastically as circumstance allowed and moved forward to peer out the window in the space between the pilots, placing a hand on the console to lean forward.

Past the nose of the moving aircraft, Luna could see rapidly passing patches of green, blue, and predominate white on the countryside below. The terrain peppered here and there by the browns, pale greens, and multi-coloured assortments of settlements and dwellings. Forward and up in the sky meanwhile, the unmistakable levitating form of the waiting Equestrian supercarrier edged rapidly closer.

They were already close enough to the ENV Divinity’s starboard side towards the split, pointed bow that Luna could make out the warship’s namesake lettering in white paint on the argent hull.

“It is even more massive up close!” Luna stated with wonder.

“Divinity to HG-352, readjust your approach vector. We are currently ascending per Admiral Fairweather’s command,” an even-toned voice said over the comms system.

“We read that, Divinity,” the mare said on the other side into the radio before returning attention to Luna. “Yeah, if you think Divinity is big, wait till you see the bulbous scrap piles the split-chin empire will be littering our system with in about a half hour, Your Highness,”

Both pilots began to bring the heavy dropship about even as the Divinity started to climb higher skyward. Luna gritted her teeth for only a moment as she grew worried that the powered-flying machine would fail to match the motion of the ship’s ascent and surely crash into the hull.

Seconds later, Luna’s fear was proven to be entirely unfounded as the pilots passed into the nearest hangar bay of the warship after having formed an arc-shaped trajectory in its approach.

The Divinity
Equestrian Naval Vessel Divinity, Divinity-class supercarrier

Luna stood up from her place betwixt the pilots and thanked them for the quick view before repeating the same to the gryphoness and rejoining her fellows in the troop bay. “The wonders of this era never cease. Come, everyone.”

Everyone emerged from the hippogriff to a crowded and bustling room similar in size to the Aett hangar they had been inhabiting a mere five minutes ago. Russ and a once-again bipedal Bjorn inspected the surroundings closely and appraisingly as a small army of multi-species deck crew made their way over to assist in bringing the large craft in and transitioning it to a set of docking clamps. The deck crew got to work as soon as a minority of them had finished gawking with complete shock at the ancient Capricorn and the giant metal wolf like creature.

“It has been a long time since I have seen such variety in one hangar. Many new faces to add to a list of similar ones,” Russ commented as he took in everything. Bjorn just gave a small growl in agreement.

“Again thou stimulates mine curiosity, Praetor Russ,” Luna commented as she took in the diversity of the Equestrian and Concordat crew that surrounded them.

“Curiosity can lead one into the depths that are inescapable. Truth and answers will come, Luna,” Russ replied simply.

The conversation was put to a halt after that as a familiar person caught their attention.

The Great Wolf Sigmara was striding purposefully towards them, her weathered but beautiful features etched with a shadow of dread, yet the grim smile and the narrowed, glittering eyes conveyed her anticipation of the upcoming battle. This time she was wearing the same power armour that the group had seen over and over again while in the Aett. The only difference is that her armour was pitch black for the base.

“Princess Luna, your form, it’s … nevermind. Yours and everyone’s presence here is within time’s graces. Come, we must assemble in the bridge for a final meeting before the enemy arrives on our doorsteps with coins for passage to Morkai himself,” Sigmara stated before gazing over the form of Bjorn and Russ. “It’ll warm these old features to see the surprise on those stuffy Armchair Generals when they see both of you.”

“What is an army without a general to command it?” Russ questioned his tone conveying joviality, knowing Sigmara was poking fun.

“An unruly mob, marching its way into the Underworld under the beat of a discordant drum,” she replied, a grin split across her muzzle. “Essentially an endless pack of Blood Claws.”

Russ, Sigmara, and even Bjorn let loose a small laugh a the quip, confusing the rest of the group as to what it meant. The laugh was cut short though, as Sigmara gestured for them to follow her.

With that, Sigmara resumed her brisk pace, but in the direction she had come. The elderly Capricorn lead them down several spacious, yet frequently crowded corridors until they arrived at a single large door inscribed with the flag of the Solarian Concordat: the same sun banner of Imperial Equestria, but set in a blue backdrop with with gold garland leaves on both sides and six golden stars above the sun itself.

Sigmara paused for a second in front of the door and turned to look at the others, as if she were planning to say something before entering, but she instead turned back around and walked through. Luna and the group followed behind, walking into yet another grand spectacle.

The bridge was of a circular design with multiple tiers upon each other. Each one had a row of chairs and screens lining the walls, all filled by multispecies personnel that were busy at work. It was a sight that Luna hadn’t seen before on such a scale, so many different species hard at work to keep everything on the city-sized warship running optimally.

This was in stark contrast to the rest of the group, who looked upon it as though it was an everyday occurrence.

On the far wall of the first story was a large set of what looked like highly reinforced windows that were easily longer than Bjorn was tall. In the center of all of this was a circular station and a set of large view screens. The floor meanwhile possessed holographic projection hardware. Even as the group moved towards said center, Luna gaped at the imposing nature that a sole ship offered.

Finally, to complement the various species of crew members, standing beside the circle station were three figures, one of them easily recognisable to Luna while the others were ponies that were new to Luna. Celestia, her sister was the first pony she picked out from the group, mainly because of her almost literal larger than life stature.

The second was a brown coated pegasus stallion that had a rather bright white mane, and from what Luna could see, shimmering golden eyes that seemed not exactly natural. And the last figure was part of the fifth species of pony, known as a Chirosus or bat pony in common speak. She had a light blue tinge to her fur from the looks of it in the lighting of the room, and a black mane that was gathered into a bun.

The two smaller ponies were garbed in blue and gold-lined officer uniforms, with peaked caps on their heads. To top it all off, each one had their ranks and varied medals and ribbons brazen on the collar and chest of their uniform, with the decoration of the Equestrian Imperial Navy’s Lord Admiral for the pegasus and Admiral for the bat pony.

As the group approached, Luna noticed that the three ponies were not alone at the circular command deck. In addition to them, in the form of holograms, were four other figures. Luna knew the unicorn Svelte and recognized the human as Lord Hood, and even the dragon-like alien Chol Von, but the Zebra was a new face to add to the entire mix.

When the group finally made it to the center of the room, the conversation that was occurring between the six high ranking officials ground to a screeching halt. In fact, the majority of that level of the entire bridge became surprisingly silent now that Luna and company had arrived.

“Princess Luna, Master Chief … who or what in the god’s green Earth is that following behind you?” Lord Hood spoke up with a rather surprised voice. “And Your Highness, your body is … different.”

It was Sigmara who answered the human first. “Admiral Hood, may I present the true Great Wolf, Leman Russ and one of his Wolf Guard, Venerated Promethean Wolf Bjorn the Fell-Handed.”

“What do you mean by ‘true Great Wolf,’ Sigmara? Are you not the leader of the Fangs?” asked the bat pony, her head tilted to the side in curiosity.

“No, I-” Sigmara started but a metal hand grasped her shoulder lightly.

“Thank you, but I can speak for myself now, Sigmara,” Russ said softly before striding forward to put himself at the head of the group.

Sigmara bowed her head and issued a small response of, “I recognise my failing and will be sure to correct it.”

Russ gave her a small nod before turning his attention back to the projections.“Back before the Fangs of Fenris took on their name, they were known as the Sixth Legion. I built them and I led them, fighting with sword and bolter beside each one. My name is Leman Russ, The Great Wolf.”

Each member of the group was silent, though Celestia had slowly shifted her way towards the humanoid alicorn. During the silence that ensued from Russ’ statement, Celestia prodded Luna’s armoured shoulder and her tense expression gave way to a small smile before whispering, “I like the armour, it suits you. And I see you’ve made friends already!”

Luna blushed slightly at Celestia’s minor teasing, but before she could respond, the zebra general’s hologram spoke up.

“Before? You are speaking nonsense, they have always been the Fangs of Fenris,” the zebra on the screen stated in a carefully enunciated manner as if to imply that Russ was slow. “They told us so when we first set hooves on your home planet at the start of the last century.”

“Did they now? Well then I have to commend Sigmara on maintaining such an important secret, though if her word was taken on faith, then perhaps it wasn’t that hard,” Russ replied, a knowing grin spread across his face.

“Do not insult us, Fang,” General Svelte said with a hardened, bemused gaze. “We will be expecting answers once we have purged these Covie bastards from our blessed old mother star! Now, what of your large thing there, Bjorn was it? What is it? You described a Promethean Wolf, but what does that even mean?”

“As I said, my name is Leman Russ. Nothing short of that or Great Wolf will earn a response; and I wouldn’t call him an it, Svelte. Bjorn is of my personal Wolf Guard and the oldest Sixth legionnaire aside from me,” Russ responded sharply, making it clear that the mare was unknowingly disrespecting the ancient being. “Respect those who came before you, pup.”

“The Equestrian general was simply asking as to what he is,” Chol Von chimed in with a tone of both impatience and indifference to the prior conversation. “But let us temporarily forget our differences at this time, for the lapdogs of the Prophets near us with each ticking second.”

“I agree. If you want to discuss that, now is not the time unless you want to lose the system and possibly this entire war,” Celestia chided the group. “Every moment spent talking about the inane is a step closer to them being successful in their full scale invasion against our defenses, catching us underprepared for engagement. Now you mentioned a boarding plan, earlier?”

“A Capricorn-proposed battle plan which we will be using that falls surprisingly in line with the proposed Operation: RED FLAG that UNSC High Command has had on ice for years,” Lord Hood responded. “Parliament and Allied Command must be in too much of a fluster right now to have briefed you, Your Majesty. That said, this surprise invasion may be calamitous, but it offers us a unique opportunity.”

“A unique one indeed. Capricorn-proposed you say?” Celestia replied before looking to the two Capricorns in the room. “Perhaps you can enlighten me.”

“The scope of the assault is, in essence, a three-pronged boarding action aimed at three high value vessels in the enemy fleet. I will be leading a three company assault, comprised of Onn, Tra, and Tra-Tra, on the primary target, along with a third of our Promethean Wolves.”

Russ held out his large palm and produced three holographic models and accompanying intel readouts of the Covenant vessels that Allied Command had singled out for boarding and distributed to all participating commanders. The models were of two CAS-class assault carriers and one CSO-class supercarrier, which easily dwarfed its two companions by a wide margin.

“Each secondary target will have a four company assault force as well as a third of Promethean Wolves per ship, with Twa, Fyf, For-Twa, and Dekk boarding Target B,” Russ continued. “Target C will be assaulted by For, Sesc, Sepp, and Elva. The two secondary assaults will aim at capturing the ships as well as the removal of all crew on board. My assault’s primary aim will be the removal their leadership as well the capturing of high ranking members. From there, we will either blow the ship or commandeer it,” Russ responded.

“And how do you possibly expect to get onboard their ships so directly? Not only will their shields be up upon entry, but the point defense systems alone will tear any light craft to pieces,” Chol Von stated with skepticism.

Sigmara stepped up this time, “We’re currently bringing up to the Divinity numerous amounts of a device that our legion uses; Jörmungandr-pattern boarding torpedoes. Without revealing the secrets of our Iron Shamans, I can say that they will phase through such shielding as the Covenant’s level of technology and are plated with the hardest metal we can create. They will bore into the hull and allow three packs to enter per torpedo.”

“Even if you get on, how will three companies take over an entire ship?” Lord Admiral Fairweather asked, more curious than anything.

“By ‘company,’ I mean our Great Companies. That will mean each boarding action will have at least six hundred Fangs. Each Fang will be utilizing our power armour, and has been trained for millennia to kill our myriad enemies. You should be asking how does the ‘Covenant’ expect to repel us,” Russ stated with small smile.

“Convenient. And you’re willing to risk than many soldiers in this fight?” Corbulo said.

“Risk? There is no risk when a good death and success are the only two options,” the massive metallic wolf spoke up for the first time.

“Victory is our only option,” Celestia replied, peering at everyone each before momentarily resting her eyes on Praetor Russ. “The Covenant, far beyond just winning this war, seek something that has the power to destroy all life in the universe, Praetor Russ.”

The Empress then began peering at each individual present once more. Not only the bridge, but the entire ship now had her undivided attention. Sigmara took the liberty of having the nearest bridge officer channel the Empress’ voice to onto a system-wide Concordat radio band, allowing the entirety of the present naval and terrestrial forces to listen.

“Victory on the Covenant’s part would mean oblivion for every living thing, and we, the Concordat have in turn earned a sobering role. It is one I have absolute faith in each of you to carry out to the best of your ability. This invasion of our alliance’s heart will be the last such invasion the Covenant will ever be able to undertake, for with their leaders in the vicinity of such strong a grasp as ours, we will have the means to at last shatter their corrupt hegemony once and for all!”

“Your Majesty, we have incoming! Multiple slipspace ruptures detected just outside Tranquility’s gravity well!” one of the command crew shouted from their bow-facing workstation.

“Status, please,” Celestia responded.

“Tranquility’s stationed battle groups are mobilizing on the far side of the planet,” Lord Hood commented.

A transmission became audible on the bridge as the command crew patched it through automatically. “Now hear this, Rear Admiral Corona reporting from the ENV Platinum, 4th Home Fleet presiding! Covenant forces are in the vicinity but have not yet detected us. Awaiting orders!”

“This is our only window to probe the Covenant fleet’s defenses and scope them out, 4th.” Fairweather said, while gesturing the nearest of the bridge officers to open a radio channel with Imperial Fleet Signalling Corps, a branch of the Equestrian Ministry of Intelligence. “Seize it before it closes, son.”

“Winter Contingency has come,” Celestia remarked. Her features unreadable, she turned to look at her sister and her companions. “I knew it was exactly one thousand years for a reason. Not in my mind, but in my heart. Luna, although I know not who and perhaps what your exotic new companions are, I have no questions, only a request. Leman Russ?”

“Ask and I will ensure it’s carried out, Celestia,” Russ replied simply.

“For whatever reason, our enemies have come here, however, they are foolish to have done so. Assist Luna and the others in showing them why, in my stead.”

Russ gave her a large grin, flashing her his sharpened, predatory teeth. “I was planning on doing that anyway. If even a single one touches ground, they will know my blade and the blades of my Legion better than they know themselves.”

“Let me do a tally,” Cortana interjected, her arms folded in anticipation. “One alicorn, an entire military of advanced warriors from another time, Spartans, the Imperial Legion, the combined naval and orbital defenses of an entire capital star system, and yours truly against possibly the largest Covenant fleet ever seen? This is almost an even fight.”

“You forgot to add, Bjorn,” Russ said, indicating to the giant Promethean Wolf.

“Right then, adding in one giant metallic wolf … I think we might barely scratch by,” Cortana replied. The Smart AI’s comment elicited a small avalanche of mechanical chuckles from Bjorn.

“Trixie thinks we’ll manage, Your Majesty,” Trixie stated optimistically.

“Master Chief, thy thoughts?” Luna inquired, turning to peer at the Spartan curiously before she gave her own response.

“We’ll manage just fine with the mission, given the exceptional personnel we currently have,” the Chief said in an echo of Trixie. “I think it’s safe to say that the Covenant’s prayers to their gods will be going unanswered; defeat is simply not an option.”

“We agree!” Luna said. “Their fanaticism shan’t make their plasma burn any hotter than it already does. We will see them laid low by our own hands, and soon.”

“With the Fangs, the Concordat’s bite that could previously rend through flesh, will now shatter and splinter bone like brittle wood,” Sigmara added.

Celestia nodded in appreciation before she moved to take her leave of the bridge and return to Canterlot to coordinate the civilian aspects of the defense. “Good luck, sister. Good luck to you all.”

While Luna and even Russ observed with different degrees of fascination, the Concordat leaders snapped to attention and gave salutes or respectful inclinations of the head all before the Empress as she made her departure and they began going about their specific tasks in a mechanical-like fashion. Meanwhile, all of the command crew on their feet, hooves, and talons began moving with even greater haste.

“It was once pilums our legions tossed at rival nations,” Corbulo commented with a sigh as his hologram began interacting with a command terminal out of view “After centuries, those spears were replaced with warheads; the Emperor is deploying all our super weapons into orbit from their silos when the largest Covenant signature manifests. It will win us nothing strategic on its own, but may it be a reckoning for some of them. Now, I must go.”

As the zebra general’s hologram disappeared, Svelte was the next to speak. “Some of those Covie bastards are bound to make planetfall, and I am blessed to have some of our most elite at my disposal. If Equis is the anvil, then we shall be her hammer! Guess that makes me a blacksmith. Gods bless Equestria, and Gods Bless the Grand Solarian Concordat!”

Svelte disappeared, leaving only Fairweather, Tempest, as well as Chol Von and Lord Hood’s projections.

“Time is expensive; few words. What ships I have present in Solaris will have prize crews at the ready for any Covenant vessels you weaken sufficiently,” Chol Von stated in a taciturn fashion, her forearm plumage ruffling with anticipation of the wealth of weapons and technology from such warships. “Eayn pays her debts.” With that, the T’vaoan Kig-Yar promptly faded from view.

“Princess Luna,” Lord Hood began, catching her attention as well as everyone else still present, “Earth and the UNSC stands with your sister’s empire and your homeworld just as it has since day one. We’ve mustered up a fleet of over a hundred ships as reinforcements; they’re enroute and will arrive from slipspace in approximately twenty-eight hours.”

“While it likely goes without saying from Our sister and the rest of the Concordat, thou hast Our thanks regardless,” Luna said, bowing her head forward gracefully for a moment. Lord Hood nodded, then turned to his Imperial colleagues.

Admirals Hood and Fairweather were soon joined at the battle map – now displaying an assortment of white and red ship formations superimposed over a model of the Solaris system and its planets – by new projections of Admiral Stanforth, the greyed hair and weathered features of Admiral Margaret Parangosky, as well as a handful of other human, equine, and other Concordat naval commanders. They all began discussing their commands and courses of action with the exception of the sole chirosus admiral present: Tempest.

The bat pony turned to regard Luna, Russ, Chief, and the others expectantly. “Hey, Chief, a quick thing to relay to you: Spartan Blue Team is waiting for you. It would seem ONI convinced the Ministry of Intelligence to open a gateway to where they were operating to sneak them into the system.”

The Chief’s stance adjusted slightly to convey his surprise, while Parangosky’s hologram briefly looked in their direction. “Alleged gateway, young lady,” the old Admiral replied, before resuming the conversation she was having with the other Admirals. “Their naval movements thus far are outright bizarre, the enemy seems apparently confused by what they’re seeing in the system. It may be a diverting tactic – a ploy, so keep watchful.”

Tempest nodded sheepishly before resuming. “Also, Praetor Russ, I have noticed your mounting anxiousness to taste battle for quite some time now. It would seem it has even spread to Sigmara!”

“I don’t think you’ll ever understand why I await the chance to take the field once more,” Russ replied with a small smirk.

“The yearn for battle beats within each Capricorn as surely as their own hearts,” Sigmara added.

“As far as Trixie is concerned, all that those who are like Tempest need to understand is the results you can achieve!” Trixie asserted, already gesturing and slightly pivoting in the direction of the same door that Empress Celestia had departed from. “Now let us depart, Sigmara has infected me with battle-lust as well!”

Tempest in turn winked at Trixie first, then all the others as she finally turned back to join her colleagues around the bridge’s battlemap and other central tactical displays.

“We concur with Trixie,” Luna said, following Trixie’s gesturing foreleg and making her way out, leading the way for the others. As she went, Sigmara appeared beside her and matched her pace with that of the alicorns’.

“I shall lead you all to the ship’s central hangars and muster bays. We have much preparation to do there and an extremely brief time in which to do it,” Sigmara explained. “I think you will enjoy the next part, my Praetor.”

“Do lead on then, Sigmara!” Russ replied with a surprising amount of enthusiasm in his voice.

The surprise was enough to form smiles on the faces of Luna, Trixie, and Sigmara, while the Chief silently approved behind his visor.

Sigmara proceeded to lead the group down twisting and bustling corridors and two elevator rides until the reached the network of vast bays and hangars that defined the majority of the Divinity’s ventral superstructure. The motley group merited more than a few curious and even the occasional fearful looks from the hundred of Concordat sailors, technicians, and civilian personnel they passed.

After around six minutes of brisk walking, the group emerged from one of the tall corridors and into a hangar that was almost large enough to contain its own weather. To describe it as cavernous would have been an understatement.

Row upon row of neatly arranged main battle tanks and light vehicles from several Concordat nations lined the floors, and in betwixt them were broad maintenance and transport lanes, as well as a central thoroughfare that an Imperial Legion company was currently marching down towards any number of possible stations.

Higher tiers and ledges of the room housed dropships and various fighter types, and some were even currently airborne, coming and going. It completely dwarfed the hangar Luna had arrived in from, and that fact alone nearly made her jaw drop.

Russ and Bjorn, meanwhile observed the bustle of the muster bays with next to no surprise, but rather something that was nearing nostalgia. What they were seeing was a massively scaled back version of what they had grown accustomed to from their own time.

After passing through the first hangar bay and into another, Sigmara brought them to a halt as the Capricorns of the group were met with a new sight that finally did trigger a strong response that was akin to nostalgia. The second hangar held primarily stations, magazines, and a floor for loading infantry and mobilizing them.

The floor was active with hundreds of predominantly Capricorn Fangs, as well as a company’s worth of Equestrian legionaries. No apparent centurion could be seen that presided over the company, only the common blue left pauldrons of squad captains amongst the equine, human, and gryphon soldiers.

The few parts of the room that would normally hold dropships instead were occupied by stubby-winged spacecraft similar but still smaller in size to Hippogriffs and the UNSC’s albatross dropships, with bladed prows that were clearly for puncturing and anchoring into an enemy vessel’s hull. They were fifty-three in number and currently being presided over by small groups of Iron Shamans demonstrating to the other Concordat technicians stationed on the Divinity the craft’s capabilities of phasing through both captured Covenant shield arrays as well as the Concordat’s magical bright power-generated shield barriers and conventional matter-based shield barriers.

“Princess Luna, your means of ingress: Jörmungandr-pattern boarding torpedoes,” Sigmara said, waving an armoured hand towards the waiting craft. “As for what I was referring to, Lord Russ, it should be aboard the incoming craft now.”

“New arrival!” one of the deck crew shouted nearby at the control station for the nearest launch bay that lead to the outside of the vessel.

“Shield doors stable, clearance all checks out,” another added. “All reading as green, roll out the welcome mat.”

Everyone present looked out the launch bay to see a spacecraft with a design distinct from all the others currently present inside make its way through the first of two shield doors that held in atmosphere.

The craft was sleek in its profile, with a silver and gold hull and and a transport bay that opened from the front prow, with the flight cabin situated towards the aft side of the vessel, adjacent to the stern and between twin wing-mounted thrusters that generated surprisingly little noise.

As it touched down at the launch bay’s aircraft pad, the technicians and deck crew were already going about the standard procedure to accommodate the new vessel, conducting inspections for any apparent damage or problems. The advanced nature of the shuttlecraft’s design left at least a few of the deck crew confounded, causing them to draw parallels to the generally foreign, alien nature of Covenant vessels.

As Sigmara and the group moved towards the ship, the front bay door opened. From it, a fairly large-sized party of eleven distinct-looking Capricorns emerged from the hold to take in the sight of the hangar bay that greeted them.

“This is a tiny ship. My company’s capital ship alone puts it to shame!” Boomed one of the Capricorns, a broad, distinctive silverish furred and black-maned stallion. “I expect nothing but disappointment from most of this era’s tech!”

“Ah, shut it, Krom. They’re still growin’ according to Sigmara,” another silver coloured Capricorn stallion replied with a cool voice. This one had an iron coloured mane and mechanical eye much like Tolfdir. “Rather impressive, I must say. At least for what they were given.”

“Bah! If we’d-” the first silver furred capricorn was cut off shortly after opening his mouth.

“Be quiet, Krom,” a blonde furred capricorn mare spoke up, elbowing him in his armoured side. “Looks like the old man has come to join us.”

With that, all their eyes fell upon Leman Russ as he advanced towards them. Small to large grins broke out across all but one of their muzzles before their right fists were placed over their hearts. Luna and the rest of the group watched on as there was only silence between the twelve capricorns.

Without a moment’s notice, the group recoiled in shock as Russ punched Krom in the face, sending the capricorn sprawling to his back. Somehow his face managed to stay intact despite the impact. Krom didn’t stay down for long, instead getting to his sabatoned hooves, and shaking his head. “I guess I deserved that one, didn’t I?”

“I told you, Krom, that next time I saw you, I’d knock some sense into that dense skull,” Leman replied before bringing his fellow capricorn into a brief embrace. “It is good to see you all once more. I would bring mjord to toast to our awakening but we have more pressing matters. Though I suppose a re-introduction is in order.”

“Re-introduction?” questioned the blond capricorn.

Instead of vocalizing it, Russ switched to the neural communications, specifically the networks of the eleven in front of him. “Luna has returned, but is still befallen.”

There was a collected chorus of ‘understood’ before Russ turned around and plodded back towards Luna and the rest. Of course, it wasn’t silent for long as more than a few eyes caught the hulking form of a specific Promethean Wolf. The group adding in a chorus of welcoming sayings to the Ancient war-machine, but one stood out above the rest.

“Bjorn! You big rust bucket! I see the Iron Shamans haven’t gotten around to installing my suggested feature!” an auburn furred capricorn mare exclaimed, much to the deep sigh of Bjorn. The conversation ended there though, for Luna felt inclined to speak up as to who the new capricorns were.

“Such boisterous presences, We are … dare We say, intrigued. Thy appearances interest Us greatly, as much as Praetor Russ himself in very recent times. Who art all of ye?” Each of the capricorns, in their own uniquely decorated armour gazed upon the armoured alicorn.

An intercom played across the hangar in the backdrop, only meriting the curious glance of a few present. “Now hear this, Covenant vessels will be within range of orbital defences in approximately seven minutes.”

“Luna, let me introduce you, once more, to my old Wolf Lords. They served with me long ago, commanding the companies. Now, they will fight beside me once more as my Wolf Guard,” Russ stated before turning around to reface the capricorns. The gathered capricorns had mixed looks at the statement but were quiet after a knowing look from Leman. “Let us start with Twa.”

Taking the cue, the auburn capricorn that spoke to Bjorn stepped forward. She was surprisingly tall, though not as tall as Russ. Her crimson red mane looked to be tied back into a ponytail braid, while her yellow eyes bore a mischievous look to them. Her armour looked very much akin to Russ’ except that the left pauldron didn’t bear any spikes on it, instead showing a symbol of what looked like a black painted wolf head spouting flames. “Solvi Fireclaw, Princess Luna. Formerly Wolf Lord of Twa Company, The Burning Wolves.”

The next one to speak was standing among the right half of the group, the complete opposite side of Solvi. This one was a large ashen grey capricorn stallion that had a striking red mohawk mane. The fur on his muzzle seemed to stretch downward much farther than any other capricorn, making it seem like he had a beard, including the braiding of the fur itself. The most prominent feature about his face was the facial scarring, mainly one that ran along his bottom right portion of his muzzle. Akin to Solvi and the rest in his armour design, the left pauldron was painted with rows of what looked like black teeth on the top and bottom of the pauldron. “Harvom Dragonteeth. Former Wolf Lord of The Dragonteeth or Tra company.”

“Since we’re going in order, I’m Viveka Siegebreaker, Princess. Former Lord of For, also known as the Hammers of Russ,” spoke up a taller, though around Havrom’s height, and extremely muscular capricorn mare. She was chestnut brown in fur colour and and slightly darker brown mane tied up in a bun. Despite the power armour, it was easily noticeable that her entire left arm was a mechanic replacement. The symbol that adorned her pauldron was one of a claw grasping a hammer.

“Erik Twiceslain, Former Wolf Lord Fyf company The Eternals,” said a shortish and lithe black furred capricorn stallion. He lacked a mane at all, instead everyone was drawn to the fact he had only one good eye, and his face was littered with crisscrossing and deep running scars. Oddly enough he only had two horns, unlike the rest of the group but upon careful inspection, the horns were of two different rows; meaning he had most likely lost two of them. On his armour’s left pauldron, there was a simple looking wolf skull on a black background.

The next capricorn to speak up was a regular-sized, off-white, furred capricorn mare with a silvery flowing mane. As she tilted her muzzle down, it became apparent to everyone that she had take more than a few scars from the years. The symbol that adorned her pauldron was an icon of what looked like a possibly shattered moon, on a black background.

Luna shuddered as the mare spoke, her voice was chilling and the company name didn’t inspire a lot of kinship; “Of Sesc Company, The Deadmoons, I am Ran Deadmoon.”

Before any of Luna’s group could speak about the rather disturbingly named capricorn, another voice cut in. This time it was a silver furred and iron coloured maned capricorn stallion. Despite starring at Luna, his one mechanical eye and his remaining brown eye seemed to be calculating everything he could see. Much like the symbol that the group had seen on House of Winter representatives at the moot, there on the pauldron was a wolf that looked to be eating a gear. “Emil Silverwolf, your highness. Past Wolf Lord of Sepp Company, The Cogwolves.”

“Calder Seatamer of For-Twa, The Leviathans. Honoured to see you, Princess,” spoke up a light-steel coloured capricorn stallion, whose coat had an almost bluish-grey hue to him. An ashen black mane was tied back into a ponytail to reveal a face that had minor nicks and scarring but nothing like some of the others. As for his symbol, it was of what appeared to be dragon-looking ship of sorts, sailing on a jagged sea.

Shifting their gazes to the next capricorn that spoke up, the group saw the one who had actually been referred to by name already. Krom was a broad dirty silvered furred capricorn that kept a short black mane and very aggressive looking yellow eyes. Compared to some of the others, minus Erik, he was covered in scars on his face. On his pauldron was what looked like a two-headed wolf over a red diamond shape. When he spoke, it was quick and angry, “Krom Morkai of Tra-Tra, Pack of Morkai.”

“Unlike some of my other Lords, I must say it is a pleasure to meet you, Princess Luna. I am Dagmar Daybringer of Dekk Company, The Day-Bringers,” spoke up the blonde capricorn mare that had scolded Krom earlier. She was overall, skinnier and more lithe than the rest, even with the armour and the white mane that flowed from her head helped to outline her unmarred features. Much like the name of her company, the symbol on her shoulder showed a red sun rising over the horizon.

The next Wolf Lord was a dark brown furred capricorn mare that had another white looking mane, though this one was cut on one her left side and fell over the horns of said side. She kept a rather sadistic looking grin to her muzzle but otherwise looked hardly as aggressive as Krom. The symbol on her pauldron was different from the rest in that the background was red, and the wolf appeared to be eating an object of sorts. “Ylva the Devourer. Ex-Wolf Lord of Elva, The Devourers.”

Finally was the last figure of the group, he seemed to stay near the back of them, his muzzle constantly moving in an unheard speech. The pitch-black furred capricorn stallion looked a little different than the rest: an almost wolfish like appearance compared to the others. His black mane fell across his face, covering portions yet not able to hide the red eyes. Looking past the others showed that the symbol was an odd mix of the ubiquitous wolf that was common on the other capricorn’s shoulders, yet it also had capricorn-like horns. When he spoke it was rather quiet unlike the others, “Uffe Dreadwolf of Tolv, The Dreadwolves.”

“You’ll be seeing more than enough of them, Luna. Unfortunately I must start our final prep before the fight. Need to make sure our companies are ready for the murder-make, after all. Oh and Luna, you will be boarding in our vessel,” Russ said rather quickly before departing towards a large gathering of armoured Capricorns, Bjorn and his new Wolf Guard following behind him.

Luna nodded before turning to the others. “I believe ‘tis our cue to muster our forces as well, everyone.” Trixie and Master Chief nodded, but Luna then stood awkwardly as a fact suddenly dawned on her. “Ahem, whomever and whatever those forces may be …”
The Chief stood stock still while Trixie scratched at her mane. “Admiral Tempest mentioned Blue Team was onboard and requesting my presence, Princess,” Chief reminded her.

“Trixie must seek out her compatriots as well, Your Highness, with your permission. Where the Empress or the Royal Guard is or has recently been, the Praetorian Guard is liable to be nearby,” Trixie said next.

Luna looked between the two and hummed in thoughtful approval, nodding and folding her arms at her armored chest. “By all means, my new friends. However, I am afraid thou shalt be on thy own devices for now, Trixie. I shall be accompanying the Chief to make the acquaintances of this team of blue.”

Letting out an involuntary snort of amusement that left Luna slightly bemused, Trixie gave a jaunty salute to both the Spartan and the alicorn before her expression turned serious and she shot off at a rapid pace towards a walkway that lead to the adjacent hangar bay.

At the same time, another intercom announcement, this time from Admiral Fairweather’s stolid voice echoed its way throughout the Divinity from bow to stern.

“Now hear this, The Covenant fleet has been engaged above Sæmundar. Hostile forces will be within range of orbital defences in two minutes. All recon pickets return to base. 2nd Home Fleet and Selene Defensive Operations, Covenant targets are already in your range, submitting firing solutions and enemy movement forecasts now.”

“We better get moving,” Cortana’s magically-casted voice said to Luna and the Chief as the both of them looked down from the acoustics of the ceiling to meet the other’s gaze. “I’m keeping tabs on probes and arrays throughout the system; those red blips are closing fast.”

“Agreed. Posthaste to Blue Team!” Luna replied.

As the duo began running in the directions Cortana regularly indicated, they noticed something odd.

“Eeyup,” somebody affirmed, with a voice half-steeped with a rustic drawl.

A tall, blonde-haired earth pony stallion with a red coat beneath his Imperial Legion armour had appeared beside them, matching their pace.

“Who art thee?” Luna asked, only looking at the newcomer with surprise a few times, but not breaking pace even for a moment.

“I’m Legate McIntosh, Imperial Legion. Ya can call me Big Mac if ya like,” the massive stallion replied with a friendly half-smile.

“Hello Big Mac,” Cortana’s disembodied voice greeted. “And according to the files I’ve just now been sent from Allied Command, Big Mac here is apparently appointed under your command, Luna.”

“Is this true, Big McIntosh?” Luna inquired with a strong face of curiosity.

“Eeyup,” Big Mac confirmed as they passed through one of the open blast door frames that was as tall as a one story house. “Technically, myself and the legionaries under my command. As soon as the Spartans are together, our legionaries will be following ya towards your Capricorn allies.”

“It must have been General Svelte,” the Chief surmised, instantly noticing not the expected three but rather four familiar figures in Mjolnir armour inspecting their weapons beside a UNSC scorpion tank. “After hearing Russ’ speech and connecting the dots, she must have assumed you were going to take a command role from the start.”

“An apt assumption,” Luna replied. “‘Twas more than a mere idle thought that I would be seeing battle sometime soon for the first time in just over a millenia. Our newfound friends in Leman Russ and his comrades have simply accelerated this.”

“Master Chief, Legate McIntosh, and … my goodness you couldn’t possibly be who everyone was talking about?!” a deep but friendly masculine voice inquired as the trio neared the Spartans.

“Jorge?” the Chief greeted back with surprise as Luna and Big Mac came to a stop beside him and regarded the newcomers.

“In the flesh,” Jorge replied, a light smile on his scarred and weathered face as he ran a gauntlet over closely cropped, dark brown hair just beginning to gray. “We’re here to help you with the boarding, since the spooks from both organizations have a semi-permanent wariness about our new capricorn friends.”

Master Chief returned the smile with a nod. He then recognized the other three Spartans – a man and woman with blue eyes and cropped black hair, alongside another woman with longer red hair and sharp emerald eyes – of Blue Team as his comrades and close friends since some of the earliest days of their training to become super soldiers. Kelly, Fred, and Linda.

Chief paused to nod at each of them as well as they each holstered their weapons and stood up expectantly. “Jorge, everyone, this is …”

“Princess Luna, the one ye hath clearly heard about, We are the very same,” Luna confirmed with a neutral expression.

“Jorge, Kelly, Linda, and Fred,” the Chief introduced to Luna and the others, gesturing for a second at each respective Spartan.

“Now hear this, Covenant forces are now in range of orbital defenses!” the ship’s intercom system cut in once more with Lord Admiral Fairweather’s voice. “Divinity crew, standby for boarding action, your three target ships are nearing our position as forecasted. Scrambled but hardening escort formations, standard enemy naval arrangement taking shape; our window to strike is now.”

“Great, now everyone knows each other's’ names,” Kelly interjected with a stern, but not unfriendly nod at Luna, before being the first to don her helmet. “Now let’s get moving before Fairweather’s window slams shut on top of us.”

There was then a following series of helmets being put on and sealed into place almost in synchronization, and everyone formed into one heavily armed and armoured group before making their way back to the hangar to board the Fangs of Fenris’ ancient-built boarding craft.

Demonstrations and appraisals of the boarding torpedoes had ceased, and were already being loaded with occupants and equipment.

A small number of dropships had also entered the hangar from other launch bays, and were themselves gearing up for separate boarding actions on the Covenant’s flagship’s lead vessel like their counterparts the torpedos and the dozens of other dropships in nearby hangars of the ship.

None of them were a point of interest for Luna, Chief, and the others however. What was of interest were the roughly six hundred capricorn Fangs in their assorted ranks marching to their respective boarding torpedoes.

“That Rurika wasn’t joking when she described what Sigmara was arranging to have come aboard the Divinity,” Jorge remarked. “I mean, seeing them when they were preparing is one thing, but in full armour?”

“Jorge, that column of Fenrisian living tanks is almost as big as you,” Fred remarked, chuckling until he noticed one capricorn that stood taller than the rest. “Correction, that one is bigger than you!”

“That is a capricorn?” Big Mac asked, speaking for the first time since encountering Blue Team. “I think ya might be seeing some kind of visual hallucination, he has to be some kind of tamed Hunter, but without the weird back spikes.”

“No offense, Big Mac, but an Mgalekgolo is not exactly something that can be tamed,” Cortana informed him.

“Eeyup.”

“That one? Ahh, that is our newest friend, Leman Russ!” Luna exclaimed as Big Mac rolled his eyes. “We can assure ye that he is just a very large capricorn.”

With that, everyone began making their way down from their elevated perch to an accessway platform. As the group continued down the walkways to ground level of the great room, they were re-joined by Trixie, who had four pegasi Praetorian Guards in tow. They moved as one towards the boarding torpedoes and waiting capricorns.

The group then split off into two. Jorge, Kelly, Fred, and Linda made their way to a first boarding torpedo, hopping into one that was already packed with Fangs while Luna, Chief, and Trixie’s squad continued on towards the torpedo that Russ and his group would be using alongside Luna’s immediate companions.

Luna briefly broke off with Cortana and Big Mac to a boarding torpedo that some of the only Equestrian legionaries present in the hangar were currently filing into. The armoured alicorn was given a minute’s briefing by McIntosh in regards to the basics of Imperial Legion command along with supplemental data provided by Cortana, and then began making her way with the latter over to rejoin Praetor Russ and their combined companions in their respective boarding torpedo.

The interior of the craft was not exactly cramped, Luna found. However, it wasn’t exactly comfortably spacious either, considering the fact that it was full to near capacity. Everything was a stalwart gunmetal gray, but with a sleek modernistic appearance and highly lustrous in the lighting of the cabin, which was also ambiently adorned with some form of solid light windows that could increase in transparency to allow easy viewing of what lay on the other side.

There were seats and dozens of levitation racks for weapon and stray equipment to be briefly kept, but the vast majority of passengers present elected to stand in rough formation in the tight quarters.

“Now hear this, this is Lord General Fairweather to all ships and fighter wings company, 1st Home Fleet. Your primary objective is to open up corridors for our boarding parties out in the vacuum. Anything that gets past you, give them a mauling if possible for the orbital platforms and the other fleets to finish off, but that flagship and its escorts are your number one priority. Boarding parties, prep for launch in fifteen seconds.”

The engines of the boarding torpedoes had already whirred to life as the deck crew of the ENV Divinity began their countdown

“ENV Divinity on station. Enemy flagship, CSO-class supercarrier Sublime Transcendence, has reached optimal boarding distance. Clearance to launch in fifteen … fourteen … thirteen …”

It was at that second that many of the capricorns, increasingly anxious to meet the enemy, chorused in on the countdown of their own volition in a collective chant in their own language across the fleet’s local battlenet.

“Tolv … elva … dekk … tra-tra … for-twa … sepp … sesc … fyf … for … tra … twa … onn!”

At the simultaneous exclamation of ‘onn’ and ‘one’, the boarding torpedoes raced out of the hangar’s primary launch bay and into the chaotic expanse of space beyond.

As Luna ventured a look out the nearest window, the sights that greeted her almost made her gasp. Cortana kept her and the others updated on ship numbers and maneuvering as their approach to the enemy ship continued underway. Fighting in the name of Equestria in a few dozen aerial battles and even some waterborne naval battles prior to her banishment could hardly even begin to compare to the three dimensional awe and tartarus that was spaceborne naval warfare.

The warship the Divinity’s crew had identified as the Sublime Transcendence was a true naval monster, even by its own builders. She was easily double the size of the former ship, which was the Concordat’s largest counterpart vessel. Like all Sangheili-designed warships, it possessed a bulbous bow and a sloping, elegantly curvaceous hull that tapered off at the stern where the thrusters were situated.

Each Covenant supercarrier’s escorts, roughly a dozen CCS-class battlecruisers and twice that number of corvettes, were already engaged by Concordat vessels at multiple angles. Warships from both sides had already been reduced to molten slag in limited numbers in what would soon become an expansive debris field.

The Sublime Transcendence itself was receiving repeating volleys of heavy bright beam fire from defense platforms too far away to be seen, and the beams of concentrated energy glanced off its bubble-esque shield in a way that put tremendous stress on the barrier. Such reactions could have been considered dazzling under vastly different circumstances.

Master Chief noted with some interest out his nearest window that every half a minute, small slipspace ruptures would appear and then disappear in bright flashes of blue near less active corners of the battle around the Transcendence. The vessels causing them were unseen but deadly in their missions; human-built Prowler stealth corvettes in service to Equestria’s Fleet Signalling Corps. Their success every couple of seconds was denoted by a bright flash of light that rivaled the luminosity of Solaris if only for a moment.

Several more vessels of either allegiance appeared both in the path of and around everyone’s boarding torpedo.

Under the orders of a particularly adrenaline-filled Concordat captain, an entire Chariot-class Equestrian carrier was seen ramming its way amidships through a damaged CCS-class battlecruiser that had just reduced one of its two Harmony-class battlecruiser escort to boiling clouds of mithril and titanium.

As the nimble, auto-piloted torpedo formed a new corridor toward the Sublime Transcendence on account of the intruding tonnage of the much larger vessels, it navigated through the debris field of the Covenant battlecruiser.

When the boarding torpedo emerged from the red-orange nebula of melted metal, the occupants looking out their windows were greeted with the sight of a wing of Equestrian fighter craft that had just joined them as escorts and to provide additional targets from the launch bays of the still close-by, but heavily supported Divinity.

Reading the letters on her hull to spell out the name ‘GSC Hoovenheart’, Luna watched with surprise as the much smaller allied carrier ship made its next move. It had just finished plowing through a ship just over half its size, with its hull still glimmering from shattered enemy nanolaminate, yet it had already began deploying some of its own fighter craft to supplement Divinity’s.

Passing by a few more of the Sublime Transcendence escorts that were being kept busy by the coalesced 1st Home Fleet consisting of both Equestrian and Equisian Defence Coalition battle groups, Russ, Luna, Trixie, and the Chief’s boarding torpedo was met with one final obstacle.

Listing from bow to stern, the still imposing but hotly burning hulk of an Equestrian Sovereign-class super heavy cruiser was suffering from a catastrophic reactor failure. Heavy weapons fire from the Transcendence had torn through her shields and melted critical areas, and the ship was now exploding violently, severing the bow from the rest of the superstructure. The boarding torpedo and several of its companions gave the smoldering arrowhead prow and its accompanying jagged tail end a wide berth, while some of the combined fighter wing deployed special munitions to propelled the bow section forward, using the wreckage as cover for some of the torpedos against the CSO’s heavy guns.

With the detonating warship now cleared, the boarding torpedoes were seconds away from making contact with the Transcendence’s hull.

Being a supercarrier, the massive vessel was even now still occupied with deploying a mixture of Covenant space banshees and phantom gunboats from her many hangars to harass and distract the Concordat vessels currently putting it in distress. What few inside the metropolis-sized warship were prepared for however, were the craft approaching it from the opposite direction at rapid speed.

“Praetor Russ,” Luna spoke over the neural communications, as the fighters escorting them broke off and away outside, “what is the strategy for securing this naval monstrosity once aboard?”

There was a brief moment of silence, followed by a low grumble. Eventually Russ’ voice came back over the network, “Luna, you must keep your com lines open, most of our commands are relayed over it. When we breach, Bjorn will be first out, spearheading our charge as we advance in the direction of the control room. That is our main goal, what you do after the breach is up to you, sister.”

“Excellent, plenty of legroom!” Trixie half enthused, half grunted as she and her squad of four Praetorians cocked and primed their magic bright-based weapons. Trixie finished her weapons prep by checking to ensure that her newly acquired bolt pistol was still secure on her armour’s belt.

“We have standard boarding procedures in place, pending any on-site revisions under yours or Legate McIntosh’s command, Luna,” Cortana explained. “The control room, weapons and comms systems, as well as the repulsor engines and slipspace drive are our priority targets.”

“Russ is taking the control room, and we should be landing almost right on top of the control points for the point defense batteries,” the Chief added. “We can disable those guns port and starboard with McIntosh’s help and the Capricorns busying the crew while Blue Team sabotages engineering.”

“Tra and Tra-Tra companies will be securing the the rest of the ship, with Tra taking the hangars,” Russ added once Chief was done.

“Luna, transfer me into the nearest Covenant terminal you come across,” Cortana said. “I don’t think you’ll regret it.”

“Cortana? Wilt thou not be lost in the vast systems of the ship?” Luna replied with concern, clearly and unknowingly conveying her present lack of knowledge in computing.

“Use all the resources you can, Princess. The AI can handle itself,” Bjorn of all beings on the craft added in from his spot at the front of the ship.

“And don’t forget your neurological-based communication systems your new armour enables, as Russ has already pointed out,” Cortana added, prompting Luna to nod thoughtfully. “It will save you from having to ask about something more often than not on the fly.”

All further discussion was immediately smothered by a resounding slam and accompanying rumbling. Looking out the windows as they awaited the forward door of the torpedo to open, some of the occupants noted that there was a noticeable warping and obvious structural stress to the hull plating closest to their craft’s point of contact with the supercarrier.

Gjallarhorn
Portside of Sublime Transcendence, Covenant CSO-class supercarrier

“Ready for your baptism by blood?” Ylva Deadmoon, the dark brown furred capricorn asked to the non-Fangs, a wicked smile on her face.

“Don’t you mean baptism by fire, as some humans would put it?” one of Trixie’s Praetorians replied, a little confused at the statement. All they got in response was a chorus of growling laughter from the armoured capricorns.

“Not at all, pup. Blood, plasma, blood, bolter fire, blood, and even some krak grenades. Those are your baptisms. But mostly blood,” Erik Twiceslain replied with a snicker. It was then that the door blew open to reveal an entire combined firing control center and munitions magazine full of shocked and bewildered Covenant. They were Unggoy and Sangheili of around a hundred in number.

Some of the Grunts were already scrambling for cover like the majority of their Elite commanders, but an even greater number were in a blind panic as Russ’s Fangs emerged from the two separate boarding torpedoes that had breached the hull in the room, with Bjorn’s hulking mass at their front, in a series of warcries and bellowing that strongly resembled distinctly lupine howls.

In Bjorn’s destructive wake as the mechanical Fenrisian began decimating the Grunts with claw and flamer and absorbing Covenant plasma bolts, the first Fangs out of the other boarding torpedo began firing their explosive-round bolters and taking cover. They found shielding from the burning plasma in the form of the closest equipment crates, pillars, and low barriers formed by the housing of wire and utility conduits that was same glistening violet, grey, and subtle claret alloys as much of the room.

Russ and his Wolf Guard of still newly-reawoken Praetor-class warriors quickly combined with Princess Luna, the Chief, and Trixie’s squad to join the rank and file Fangs of Fenris in seeking cover with a good angle, firing their weapons at the resiting Covenant crew.

Of the number of Sangheili that were not taking cover or already firing weapons back, the highest ranking one in the room – a golden-armoured zealot – drew the hilt of his energy sword after deploying a bubble shield around himself and his immediate comrades to analyze the intruders with momentary impunity.

While the blade materialized with a crackling like electricity, the zealot growled and extended a slender arm at the Promethean Wolf, vaguely recognizing Bjorn’s form. “A holy construct of our Lords, see how the Heretics have bent it to their will! Correct this aberration, my brothers. Cleanse the nishum from the our flagship!”

The Elite zealot’s proclamation merited a chorus of growls from the Sangheili that served as their equivalent to the Capricorns’ reverberating war cries.

Unggoy that were out of range of Bjorn at the moment were now being cut down in droves by the Fangs’ axes, chainswords, broadswords, and bayonets as the bolter fire suppressed the Elites enough to allow the Concordat force to push forward towards cover close enough to merit melee charges. Their individual contributions were numerous but hardly comparable to Bjorn’s.

Having reduced over a dozen hapless Grunts to blue bioluminescent paste and burning bodies, Bjorn was already smashing and burning past the now dug-in formation of counterattacking Sangheili and into the corridor beyond.

“Whoa, giant metal monster!” one of the Grunts yelled with shock from out in the hallway. “Not so scary! We team up and take you dow .. guh, gyaaah!” The stocky alien was quickly interrupted by gouts of flame from the Promethean Wolf.

“Is it wrong that I think comrade smells good when well roasted?” one of the other Unggoy said in dismay-induced mania, their frenzied declaration followed by a series of explosions and further screaming.

Bjorn’s movement had been so swift that the Elites he had left out of range of both his charge and his flamer were forced to divert their attention from him entirely and focus on the rest of the boarding party that had now dispersed itself across most of the firing control center.

The Fang’s movement was also so imminently rapid that the firefight had quickly morphed into an all-out melee as the remaining Elites realized that no reinforcements were going to enter the room from where Bjorn had just exited, meaning their backs were literally to the wall.

Infuriated growling of the Sangheili combined with the crackling of energy swords being activated coincided with the zealot’s bubble shield collapsing, its operational duration having concluded. The zealot took this as his cue and leapt forward with his sword drawn, being the first of the remaining Elites to do so.

Seeing Russ and the others in their distinctive armour that garnered the same vague, peculiar recollection as the sight of Bjorn, the zealot singled them out as the apparent leaders of the intruders as he failed to noticed the handful of non-Capricorn combatants amongst them.

He marked Russ as the most prominent target, and thus the only one worthy of his blades. The zealot strided forward with a guttural growl, his target having already long since registered his approach.

Much to the zealot’s rage, one of the Fangs from the melee surrounding him randomly entered his path, and was aiming to halve the Sangheili’s skull with his chainsword. The zealot denied the Capricorn stallion his kill by parrying the blade and catching it in between the twin blue prongs of his own. The Elite followed up within the breadth of a heartbeat by plunging his accompanying energy dagger in between one of the chinks near the breastplate as the teeth of the capricorn blade sparked against the solidified plasma.

Seeing that one of her comrades was in a dire grapple with the enemy but not noting the extent of said comrade’s danger due to their back being to her, another of the same Fangs pack rushed to the stallions aid.

The zealot capitalized on her gaining speed by rushing his primary opponent forward like a battering ram, driving both the mare and the stallion to the ground as he raised his energy sword for what he presumed to be a killing blow. Not allowing them time to recover, the Elite plunged his blade through their power armour and into where he anticipated their species’ heart to be, before returning his attention to his true target.

Russ barred his teeth as the zealot said nothing. The Elite simply growled and swung his energy blade in a downward slash that the Praetor easily dodged. Russ counterattacked with a fist to the Covenant soldier’s mandibled face that would shatter the skull of most races with lesser density in their bone structure.

Observing the sheer apparent mass of his opponent, the zealot reeled back with another growl and shifted the grasp on his sword subtly. Even with the difference in weapon design and finger structure, Russ was still able to read the change, and knew what attack was coming next.

An intended stab was blocked by the adamant barrier of Krakenmaw’s blade and the twin prongs caught in the chevroned crossguard, as its owner reeled back only a few centimeters from the force of the Sangheili’s thrust. Russ followed up from the parry by emptying four bolter rounds with hardly a second of delay each into the Elite’s torso as they both stood there, locked in mortal glares.

It was during their mutual glare that the Sangheili at last registered who it truly was he and his comrades were currently fighting. With one bolter shot, the zealot spoke as the flickering of his reacting shielding to the kinetic force obscured his helmeted face. “R’tussan? I am fighting a god of war ...”

With two bolter shots against him, the zealot broke into a chuckle at some private joke. At three bolter shots, the zealot’s personal energy shielding collapsed completely. When the fourth resounding shot came, a massive wound had appeared in the Sangheili’s abdomen, causing the fervent warrior to become immobilized, quaking from metabolic shock as Russ then freed his sword and brought it through the air in a clean horizontal arc.

There was a liberal splattering of purple-cobalt blood across the metallic floor as the beheaded Covenant zealot toppled over. Such a beheading was the punctuation mark of an already ongoing series of Sangheili falling in similar fashions after slaying a few of the enemy in kind.

Within moments after the zealot’s demise, the room was clear, and Russ was already in the process of beginning the push to the Sublime Transcendence’s control room. His eyes met with Luna as her group waded through the carnage into the center of the room, while his prepared to move out. “You’re on your own from here. We need to gather the rest of Onn and make for the control room. We should probably try to catch Bjorn before he takes the ship apart by himself.”

“The big lug’s still got it after all this time,” chuckled Emil Silverwolf as the Fangs lopped out of the room, leaving behind only a handful of soldiers as well as their injured, with Sigmara and another Wolf Priest remaining to tend to them.

Trixie took a moment to appraise the now heavily damaged room with widened eyes as her four fellow Praetorians worked to fry any remaining control terminations with spells or their weapons, leaving just one functioning for Cortana’s upcoming insertion into the Transcendence’s system. “Amazing, and only in about two minutes or so! Trixie approves!” she said.

Meanwhile, Luna and the Chief were also analyzing the results of the Fangs’ handiwork, and the former’s mouth was almost agape.

“That was surprising,” the Chief remarked nonchalantly, as he followed Luna over to where Trixie and her squad were presiding over the last functioning control terminal in the room.

"You can't see it, but Master Chief’s expression is probably the Spartan version of yours, Luna," Trixie quipped. “Trixie knows these things …”

Luna shook her head in confusion before she took out Cortana’s chip from the neckguard of her armour and held the matrix in the palm of her outstretched right hand just above and over the holography of the terminal screen.

While the humanoid alicorn’s hand began to pulsate with her aura, Cortana’s slender avatar flickered to being for a few seconds as she strided off the top of the chip and onto the horizontal surface of the terminal before vanishing.

Such a process by its very nature coupled with the reality that she had not needed to even think to know how to do it left Luna internally shocked.

“There we go!” Cortana said with a degree of excitement. “Time to cause a little … mischief on the enemy battlenet. But first, I just want to say that what was truly surprising in my opinion about the Fangs of Fenris here was their coordination, from my observation through Luna’s eyes – thank you Luna, by the way – despite their quasi-Visigothic profiles.”

“We’re sorry, but Visigothic?” Luna inquired.

“Human history, a lesson for some other time, Your Highness, unfortunately,” Trixie interjected. “Sigmara, how are your wounded doing?”

“I will be keeping close watch on the two with the chest wounds from the Sangheili zealot, and the few dead we Wolf Priests will oversee in time, while you and the others press on, but the rest have but flesh wounds,” Sigmara replied, before adding with a dry chuckle and a knowing gaze, “They are nothing but pups if they try to claim otherwise. Oh, and Luna, you forgot to tune into Onn company’s network. If you seek the secret of our coordination that Cortana has no doubt already discovered, therein lies your answer.”

“Ah yes, of course! My ample gratitude, Sigmara,” Luna replied with a slight smirk, before sharing nods with Trixie and the Master Chief. “We shall now know through me which sections of the ship to anticipate the discovery of already mangled enemy combatants without eliciting confusion.”

“Speaking of which …” Trixie prompted them, gesturing to her own squadmates that were growing antsy near the room’s main exit. Through the threshold of the large, open sliding doors, distant small arms fire, detonations, and a general almighty ruckus could be heard. The remote sounds were punctuated every few seconds by a rumbling in some portions of the ship from external weapons fire and a number of other causes.

Placing Cortana’s now empty chip back into her armour, Luna drew her bolter rifle and took point for the group. “Converge on Us,” she said to her companions, and they began assuming a rough triangle. “Long range weapons, closest to the center with Us and between mid-range weapon. Likewise for all mid-range, fan out farthest left and right; we are a venomous serpent and thou art the fangs to our coiling precision!”

Luna lead them out into corridors ‘decorated’ by plasma scorch marks and metal plating warped by hardlight projectiles, and signposted by the occasional smoking remains of a standard Covenant infantry lance, seldomly including the rare Kig-Yar mercenary or two.

“The next firing control room towards the bow should be close,” the Chief stated beside Luna as their group pushed ahead.

“It’s main entryway door is three and a half meters ahead, to be exact. McIntosh’s company should be just about to–” Cortana’s sentence was cut off as the entryway door in question burst open and outwards in a heap of two badly dented panels. The threshold and doorframe were also warped in the process, and the group was left in combative stances.

From the metallic carnage, and a smoke cloud produced by something burning within the firing control center, emerged a distinct heavy clanking of armour against the metal floors. Clanking continued for three whole seconds before the causes of the march-like sounds became visible.

Legate McIntosh appeared in the corridor before a somewhat impressed Luna, flanked on both sides by a unicorn and human battlemage, as well as two earth ponies. The earth ponies had clearly been the ones to seal the door’s fate with a synchronized kick, but the human magic user and her unicorn colleague had clearly been the ones to make it possible.

Both Trixie and Luna could still make out the telltale auras of bright from the destruction spell the battlemages both used to melt the door’s middle locking mechanism.

All of the pony, human, and gryphon legionaries as well as Big Mac possessed the same standard-issue yet subtly elegant white armour plating Luna had first seen her sister in.

The suits came with matching crested helmets that possessed visors divided into two sections by a nose guard. But, unlike the Legate’s matching violet pauldrons, all of the soldiers in his company possessed one yellow pauldron on their left shoulder, denoting them as veteran storm legionaries.

“And that’s another firing center taken care of,” Cortana finally finished. “I could have unlocked that door for you guys, you know.”

Big Mac flashed the others a light smile as he approached Luna. “Eeyup, but not as fun. That takes care of the portside guns, Your Highness.” As he spoke, the Equestrian legionary company merged itself with Luna’s much smaller formation as they continued to follow in the Capricorns’ wake of destruction, this time towards the starboard side.

“Excellent,” Luna replied, relaying the information mentally to Russ and Onn company while Cortana relayed the same across their primary radio channel to the rest of the boarding force as well as Concordat admiralty.

There was no response immediately, causing some concern to go through Luna. She waited a brief moment before relaying the information once more. Again, there was no response. Deep in the back of her mind, she thought of the possibility that something had happened. Then there was a single click over the network.

A moment passed before a cacophony of gunfire and wolf howls echoed over the frequency, almost surprising Luna enough to make her jump. Then a voice came through; it sounded like one of Russ’ Wolf Guard. “Sorry, Praetor Russ is unable to answer you message right now, please leave a message after the screams of our enemies.”

Before Luna could question it, a piercing shriek of pain split across the channel. Luna was unsure of what to do and if the capricorn was being serious with that statement. The hesitation gave opening for Leman’s voice to spill through. “Sorry, sister. Erik has a knack for making bad jokes. Proceed onwards. We’ve taken a detour to … warm ourselves up.”

“We’ve gained some interesting allies,” the Chief remarked as he prepared to open another comm channel. “Blue Team should be just about to neutralize engineering as well. Sierra-117 to Blue Team, status report?”

The Team of Blue
Slipspace Drive Core

“No problems so far, John,” Fred replied, an awe-inspired smirk on his face as he presided over both a conflicted-looking floating Huragok and a bank of alien holographic displays arrayed before them in in front of the enemy supercarrier’s translight engine. “The human capricorn on our boarding team is pretty much doing everything for us, here. Kelly is cutting power to the drive core and the thrusters now.”

“Understood, we’re moving to wipe out the starboard guns now. 117, out,” the Master Chief replied over comms.

“If Jorge were a capricorn, he’d be the cuddliest one in the entire species,” Kelly remarked to Fred as she interfaced with the slipspace drive’s terminals.

“I dunno, Kelly,” Fred replied as he turned to keep an eye the Covenant Engineer. “You ever see a picture of one of those capricorn mares from the tribes? Plenty of curves to cuddle with, am I right?”

Kelly snorted in amusement, shaking her head but not lifting her eyes from the displays. “Just keep an eye on our Engineer friend here. Don’t need him blundering off now and accidentally leading more Covenant our way than is needed.”

While her compatriot nodded and continued to keep watch over the Huragok as it drifted tensely to and fro, Kelly was actively cutting off the power flow from the vessel’s pinch fusion reactors to the drive, and causing a number of the ancillary generators that powered the thrusters to overheat and become useless by voiding their safety protocols.

The almost jellyfish-like Huragok let out a sharp mixture of a chirp and a distressed yelp in protest at what was being done to the ship it helped maintain, but otherwise did nothing to resist them.

“Kelly, would you like some help wreaking further havoc?” Cortana asked, bringing the Smart AI’s presence fully to the Spartan’s attention since the start of the boarding operation.

“Negative, Cortana, all taken care of,” Kelly replied. “Just keep jamming the ship's communications and wreaking havoc of your own unless our alicorn commander of hearsay battle experience orders you otherwise.”

“That reached our ears … We beg thy pardon?!” Luna interjected over the channel with a dangerous tone.

“Ooh …” Fred said with a wince. His engineer acquaintance curled up closer to itself and whistled in apprehension as it too had picked up on their radio chatter.

Kelly chuckled vaguely lightheartedly at both of them and at Luna, finally looking up from the Covenant controls. “Humour isn’t really my realm of expertise; apologies, Luna. Celestia has actually shown some of us Spartans your old battle raiments from a millennium ago in private during audiences.”

“That dented and pierced metal in places looked like you had put the armours though hell,” Fred threw in, a report of fire issuing from his battle rifle as he fired at targets below.

“Oh … thou art pardoned! Such wear on armour is from leading at the front of almost every battle, where any self-respecting commander belongs at least a fraction of the time,” Luna replied. “Our previous armours have endured belligerent magical and melee encounters as perilous to the shapes and forms of metals as the heat of a forge.”

“In short, destruction magic makes a lot of heat,” Cortana added. The declaration merited a chuckle from Jorge below and even the tranquilly stoic Linda, who was nearby.

While the conversation was occurring, Linda was on the other end of the room high above on another catwalk, providing sniper support to Jorge on the lowest level of the core room as he mopped up the remaining Covenant crew that resisted. His boots repeatedly stepped over floors and grates slick with violet, blue, and even white blood.

Amongst the fallen foes were all of the core’s plasma pistol-wielding Yanme’e mechanics. They now looked for all the world like they had been hit with a cosmic flyswatter from the Spartans’ handiwork.

“I will purge you with a holy flare and keep your helmet full of red chunky bits as a souvenir!” a Grunt major proclaimed as he caught Jorge’s attention. The stocky alien was priming a plasma grenade just as a round from Linda shattered his backpack and nearly bisected his body at the waist.

“Told you that taunt was too harsh!” another of the Unggoy said.

“May slipspace drive claim vengeance for the death of its mechanics!” a third exclaimed, firing his plasma pistol rapidly at Jorge.

“Not today, you Covie bastards,” Jorge said with a scowl beneath his helmet, opening up with his heavy machine gun and ripping through the remaining Unggoy.

Jorge and Linda quickly eliminated the rest of the hostiles in the chamber with their combination of heavy machine gun and anti-material rifle, and the former paused to survey the mess that had been made.

“Huh. I’d really hate to be a pristine surface on this ship right now, because then I wouldn’t remain one for very much longer,” Jorge stated loudly with a dry chuckle, giving a wave to the rest of Blue Team above.

“Excellent work, Jorge!” Kelly said, peering down briefly before motioning to make her way out to the nearest exit. “Alright, let’s move out and relink with Russ’ people whilst they give them hell. Try to keep up, you three!”

Deity or Foe
En-route to Starboard Firing Control Decks

“Well that takes care of the engines,” Trixie stated as the Chief closed his comm channel. The both of them, McIntosh, and Luna were looking to one another as they lead their forces through the corridors.

“No encounters with Covenant warriors since our explosive ingress of the hangar. Curious, We wonder if the Covenant warriors nearest us may be massing for an ambush in one of these rooms,” Luna said, her eyes narrowed as she scanned each doorjamb and turn they passed whilst following Cortana’s waypoints. “That, or every living hostile on this section of the ship has already met a grisly end at capricorn hands. Your assessment, Chief?”

“I anticipate a mixture of both possibilities, although motion sensors are clear for now,” the Chief replied, eliciting a nod from the alicorn.

“Legionaries!” Big Mac spoke up, adjusting the energy output level on his bright rfile. “I want you keepin’ sharp eyes on our flanks; treat every door as if it was some kind of magical enemy dispenser. If so much as even one Covie pops their head, out, give em’ what’s comin’ to em’.”

“Yes, Sir Legate!” a significant portion of the company responded in synchronization.

While the others brandished their standard issue battle and assault rifles, bright rifles, bright repeaters, as well as a few shotguns, Luna lead the way with a readied destruction spell in her left hand and her bolter pistol aimed in her right, horn ignited with her aura. Her instincts were telling her that an encounter was indeed imminent.

As chance would have it, it was mere seconds away.

Arriving at a four-way intersection of corridors, the legionary company and its four leaders were met by a surprise from a hexagonal maintenance opening in the ceiling one story above that was almost wide enough to drop a Wraith main battle tank through. Three plasma grenades were chucked down to the floor before detonating with unison, which everyone dodged just before a Hunter pair and four Sangheili majors dropped down to their level.

Both Mgalekgolo roared and reared their shields, fuel rod cannons poised to fire at will. Their Sangheili support consisted of two carbines, one dual wielding needlers, and a fourth toting a plasma repeater. While their towering charges growled and lumbered forward menacingly as living bipedal tanks, the Sangheili likewise growled, only to hesitate as they registered Luna’s appearance.

“Aha, there’s the encounter of which We spoke!” Luna declared, sneering as she charged her spell and the others peered down their weapon sights, the Covenant squad’s hesitation the only thing sustaining a tenuous calm that hung by a thread.

“That female, she is no Dohmoh'Eenganenn … those wings and the horn? It cannot be possible!”

“Has a living Goddess returned to anoint us? Forerunners be praised … Alicorns be praised!”

“By the Sacred Rings … the Gods have returned!”

“Watch yourselves, I don’t think the Hunters are as religiously observant as our new Elite ‘friends’ here, Luna!” Cortana cautioned.

As the Elites stared transfixed and almost on the cusp of bowing, the Mgalekgolo bond brothers could hesitate in front of their sworn foes no longer, and attacked without their superiors’ directive. They actually advanced forward and in front of the dazzled Elites that had now become unwelcome stationary obstacles.

When Luna noted the barrel of the left one’s fuel rod cannon beginning to charge up an explosive shot, she knew the time had come for her first direct killing of a Covenant combatant.

Channeling all the power she could into her spell, Luna dealt out a blue beam beam of focused magical electricity just as the Elite majors noticed the Hunters’ aggression. Luna’s beam struck the left Mgalekgolo as the Elites turned against the one on the right.

The left Hunter spasmed and emitted an enraged roar as the destruction magic struck its shield and pulsated right through its armour to the colony of Lekgolo beneath, killing them rapidly. The resulting pouring of energy into the massive gestalt being triggered an explosive cascade that made the Hunter become a living fragmentation grenade.

Luna’s group reeled back as the ensuing explosion killed two of the Elites instantly while a third was crushed by the detonating Hunter’s partner’s shield, and a dying fourth lodged enough needler rounds into the latter to trigger a supercombine reaction. The entire Covenant squad had been reduced to radiating heat, melted metal, and cauterized gore without any of Luna’s companions having needed to fire a single shot.

“Killtrocity, even indirectly! Oh Celestia have mercy … I’ve been watchin’ too many of them there simulated Spartan deathmatches on the Waypoint,” Big Mac remarked as he gawked at the Covenant remains, causing a number of the legionaries to chuckle as all sixty plus of them kept watch and held formation behind him and the others.

“Fear not, Legate Big Mac!” Trixie reassured him. “It was the passive effect of the Chief’s uncanny luck rubbing off on our group as a whole this time!”

“Luck? What is this fortune of which Trixie speaks?” Luna inquired, looking to Master Chief for an explanation.

“It’s not something that can be explained, and it obviously helps with missions every time, so I stopped questioning it,” the Chief replied.

Luna giggled as she holstered the drawn one of her two bolter pistols and motioned the company into a jogging pace, on the move once again and pointing a slender finger forward. “A fair enough explanation, I suppose. Company, forward march, onward to those batteries! May your fortune smile upon us, Spartan.”

Dishonored Guard
Primary Dorsal Hangar, Approach to Sublime Transcendence’s Bridge

While Luna, the Chief, Trixie, and Legate McIntosh lead their own force to wipe out the remaining defensive capabilities of the Covenant supercarrier, Praetor Russ and the Wolf Guard of Onn company had already blasted, slashed, smashed, and tore their way clean through to outermost defenses of Transcendence’s control center

What lay in Russ’ path now was the remainder of a general purpose hangar bay that lay on the topside of the supercarrier along its dorsal structure.

All of the main floor level of the hangar was guarded by a grouping of five Covenant wraith tanks and six stationary shade and fuel rod turrets, three of each. The ceiling boasted an energy barrier opening large enough for two dropships of average size to enter safely side-by-side.

In the engagement, the Fang’s explosives and armour-piercing projectiles from behind cover were rapidly taking their toll on the Covenant vehicular support in the hangar. Meanwhile, Bjorn and two other Promethean Wolves were occupied with tearing, burning, and autocannon-firing their way through the hapless infantry lances that were still resisting despite standing on the threshold of being completely overrun.

Clearly, the only thing preventing the full capturing of the hangar via a constant hail of Capricorn explosive and piercing hardlight projectiles was a series of constant reinforcements that were being hot-dropped from a few phantoms of the Sublime Transcendence’s escort ships that somehow made it through the gauntlet of the naval battle outside, as well as the occasional Covenant lance that would emerge from a side entrance.

As Russ leapt off the fifth wraith after having shoved a krak grenade into its driver compartment and beheading the accompanying Unggoy plasma gunner, he noticed that a small number of heavily armed Covenant reinforcements had emerged from the side of the hangar that lead to the bridge in addition to the more mundane reinforcements.

The wraith meanwhile exploded in a hail of cyan flame shortly after its increasingly brazen Unggoy pilot fired a plasma mortar round that missed its mark and blasted through one of the hangar’s architectural braces, bringing down the platform and accompanying shade turret it’d supported onto a small mob of panicking Grunts.

All of the incoming Sangheili's distinct curvaceous combat harnesses that were both ornate and illuminated aroused Russ’ suspicion, as it made him recall intel on the Covenant, Allied Command had shared with him by way of Cortana.

“Who are these new prey?” Russ spoke, his question directed towards Cortana.

“Covenant Honour Guardsmen – shouldn’t give you too much trouble if you don’t mind enemies with insanely happy trigger fingers. Although … their presence here cannot be for no reason. They have to be here because a San’Shyuum is present, and I’m detecting highly probable evidence on the Covenant battlenet that it could be a very important one. The High Prophet of Regret.”

A bellowing laugh came from the Praetor, one that caused nervous glances from the incoming Honour Guard. “It’s an apt name. It will suit him when he realises who he faces.”

Russ’ laughter continued as he dodged a charged plasma pistol shot and fired his bolt pistol in return, the rounds hitting their mark in a Kig-Yar mercenary through the crennelation in her point defense gauntlet, nearly blasting the alien in half.

His echoing chorus of laughter carried over the hanger through the staccatos of weapons fire, causing more Unggoy to break rank and scatter in terror, or drop their weapons and draw their grenades in an attempted but always futile suicide charge at the nearest Praetor.

“That heretic warrior with the most prominent armour, I doubt his sanity,” one of the Sangheili guardsman remarked with alarm in their species’ native tongue, gesturing towards Russ in the distance with his plasma rifle.

His closest compatriot growled in disapproval as he hefted a fuel rod cannon and peered down its sights. “When have heretics ever possessed a sound mind? Stand firm and be the Prophets’ holy instrument of wrath, brother, or be left behind as they will be.”

At that, the first guardsman sought to compensate for himself by proceeding to discharge his plasma rifle towards Russ and nearby capricorns with just enough rapidfire build up to not fully overheat. This coincided with his companion and the rest of the Honour Guard present to begin discharging their weapons in full rather than just of light weapons fire whilst busily deploying energy shield barricades.

“Cortana, seal the hangar. Cut the foe from its reinforcements,” Russ dictated, not even bothering to take the time to glance at the incoming Phantoms.

“You know, a good way to keep out mosquitoes is to simply … shut the window!” Cortana affirmed.

By now, the remainder of the turrets had been destroyed, and the regular stream of additional Covenant reinforcements from the phantoms was finally cut off as Cortana seized enough control of the supercarrier’s systems to phase-seal the energy barrier door in the ceiling tight against solid objects.

The final batch of Covenant troops that were able to be deployed via phantom before Cortana’s intervention consisted of two Mgalekgolo pairs reinforced by a trio of special operations Elites dual wielding plasma rifles. This deployment served as one of the few groups of infantry that remained besides the Honour Guards themselves, who were attempting to keep the Fangs suppressed with their heavy weapons and rapid-fire plasma.

Any attempts at suppression faltered within a minute with a decisive finality as Emil Silverwolf managed to commandeer the remaining intact wraith tank and used its mortar to obliterate one of the two Hunter pairs, while Bjorn began sparring with the remaining two Mgalekgolo.

Bjorn’s two Promethean Wolf companions began targeting the Honour Guards, of whose heavy weapon users were signaling out the mechanical constructs. One of the two sustained nearly enough damage to warrant a retreat, but nevertheless the pair smashed through the left and right of the Honour Guards’ barricade formation, leaving the central section guarding the way to the ship’s bridge vulnerable to a final capricorn push.

Having succeeded in killing one of the two surviving Hunters in his spar, Bjorn ripped the shield off the armoured suit of the first and used it to topple over its enraged bond brother while his peers tore through the Covenant barricade. The oldest of the Promethean Wolves then followed up by using his flamer near one of the now exposed gaps in the flailing beast’s suit Incinerating the Lekgolo colony it consisted of to ash, Bjorn slew the Mgalekgolo in seconds just as his biological Praetorian counterparts began their charge.

A chilling howl erupted from Russ, joined immediately after by the other Fangs. The combined sound reverberated in the room, reaching near deafening volumes.

With the Promethean Wolves now upon them, the original force of thirty heavily armed Elite Honour Guards had been reduced to twenty-one, and like their predecessors Russ had first encountered upon entering the ship, they quickly realized they were going to be overrun with the current state of the hangar.

Three of the Honour Guard that were not evading and attempting to fight the Promethean Wolves readied their grenades while the rest ignited energy swords or grabbed the energy staves that had been brought in anticipation of just such a fatal occasion as a melee charge. The very thought brought about a sneer on Russ’s face.

It was the sneer that was one of the first and very last things the nearest Honour Guards saw as Krakenmaw cleaved through armour, and flesh, and bone.

An enemy that fled when it knew crushing defeat was inevitable, was prudent but unsatisfying to warriors that sought glory. On the opposite side of the coin, an enemy that held its ground in the interest of honour was unwise and perhaps noble, but was clearly wasting its own lives as well.

Following just a second’s breadth behind Russ, the Wolf Guard and the remaining enemy Honour Guard slammed into one another in betwixt the wreckage of the wraiths with a massive momentum that made it clear which side already had the upperhand. Energy staves were dodged with almost imperceptible speed, while power weapons dueled against blades of superheated plasma.

Each Honour Guard focused on a single target, fighting with all their strength. Krom Morkai was among the first who was immediately engaged in combat upon entering the fray. The Honour Guard thrust his stave at Krom, managing to clip the side of the armour as the massive capricorn swiftly lunged forward and to the side. A well placed elbow knocked the Honour Guard off balance and forward, allowing Krom to spin in behind the Elite. With a roar of primal fury, Krom brought his axe straight down, bisecting the Elite with apparent ease.

One Honour Guard was unfortunate enough to glance in the wrong direction whilst parrying, for in that split second, fire wreathed wolf claws dug into his midsection, picking him up in the air. A predatory grin flashed across the face of Solvi Fireclaw before she pulled her claws apart, eviscerating the Elite, leaving him in two halves. The entire action barely took more than a few seconds.

Another took to engaging the large ashen-furred Havrom Dragonteeth. The Elite struck first, swinging his energy sword down on Havrom, only to be blocked by the metal shaft of his dual headed greataxe. The Elite tried to power through but there was no give from the Fang. Instead, a swift kick to the knee from Havrom collapsed the Elite. Without a second to try and dodge, the axe head cut down from the left base of the neck, all the way through to the right side.

Quickly, the last of the Honour Guards were fighting to their last breath, and Russ happened to be one of the capricorns present to finish one of them off. For him, the opportunity of the final kill was somewhat grin-inducing.

Bringing his energy stave about, the now lone Honour Guard charged at Russ with a thrust attack that he not only dodged, but also utilized the momentum of to give extra force to his own counterattack.

Krakenmaw carved a huge gash through the guardsman’s chest and severed his right arm at the biceps. While the Sangheili dropped his stave with a loud clatter and bowed over on a knee with a pained growl, Russ’ grin was no longer there as he seized the alien by his mandibles and pushed inward with armoured hands.

Russ then peered up as he brushed brainmatter off of his gauntlets, through the flickering blue transparency of the hangar’s energy barrier. Something in the battle outside had changed, and it was in that moment that several distinct events unfolded at once.

“That large spatial anomaly that we were picking up on the distant tail end of this Covenant fleet? It’s rearing its head now,” Cortana stated with concern over the boarding force’s primary radio channel. “And it wasn’t coming alone … Home Fleets, I hope you’re seeing this.”

While the door to the Sublime Transcendence’s bridge that the now massacred Honour Guard reinforcements had been guarding finally went ajar to reveal more guardsman that were standing oddly still and stoically, the systems in Russ’ armour picked up the telltale signs of the dozens of external comm lines responding to both Cortana and one another.

Russ ignored the faint chatter and instead casted his eyes upwards to space. A few of the Wolf Guard did the same, but the majority of the rest began to slowly close in towards the newly revealed Covenant, who only continued to bizarrely hold their position.

Space was warping in the far distance with distinctive white-blue flashes of light that all of the Praetors recognized instantly as ubiquitous phenomena generated by vessels emerging from slipstream space. They were almost like ripples in water.

Hundreds of slipspace ruptures opened both in unison and in scattered sequences, each one admitting a Covenant warship of varying classification into the Solaris system. They were soon joined in their vastly growing naval menagerie by a single large slipspace rupture from which emerged an almost umbrella-shaped station whose mass was big enough to blot out most of the argent view of Selene from Russ’ perspective.

A shimmering, almost mirage-esque effect was achieved by the Covenant station in its visage from the sheer energy required to transfer such a large object from the slipstream and into normal space.

Heavy weapons fire began between the newly arrived Covenant armada and Equis’ nearest defences. Despite the support of the planet’s still full-strength orbital defense grid, the portion of Solarian Concordat’s Home Fleets within range of the new hostiles were being devastated quickly due to their inability to prepare, causing entire battle groups to be recalled from the far side of Equis to reinforce them.

Now, the Concordat radio chatter was growing in intensity with angered and worried voices to finally warrant Russ turning the channel off on his end, leaving just the neural links and his link to Cortana online instead.

All of the Wolf Guards halted in their slow predatory steps towards the Honour Guards and the control center entrance, and peered with bemused glances as visible Sangheili suddenly bowed with reverence before them on bended knee with a resounding chorus of “Rt’ussan.”

The chorus coincided with an aged feminine voice that echoed across the intercom system the supercarrier possessed vessel-wide. The speaker's’ delivery was both urgent and commanding, but yet was not devoid of subtle indicators of benevolence.

“Brothers and sisters of the Sublime Transcendence, cease your hostilities towards the intruders at once! The High Prophet of Regret has made his final blunder; the promise of the Primal Halo has proven fallow and his foolish arrogance has lead High Charity to this great peril! Li’una and R’tussan are within our midst. The falsely dubbed Heretics have been their servants all along!”

“So sayeth the Prophetess of Obligation!” one of the guardsmen said in reverent Sangheili.

“The very Gods themselves have returned from the Great Journey wielding wrath onto this ship to correct Regret’s impudence in desecrating their holy system. You will grant them hallowed passage!”

“Glory unto Russ, the Sharpened Sword of the Gods; glory unto the Alicorns and their Chosen on their path to transcendence; honour unto the Sacred Rings!” the Honour Guards’ chanting continued, a polarizing mixture of both conflicted and fervent tones.

“Looks like you have a few followers, Russ,” Viveka spoke, a large grin plastered on her face. None of the Wolf Guard had to guess to know what she was going to say next. With a booming laugh came, “Even more of a reason to break out the mjord later, if his holy reverence allows it!”

Russ looked at the bowed Sangheili, a frown spread across his muzzle, his eyes glaring as he gazed at each one. His voice came at a whisper, one that only his Wolf Guard picked up. One that only his closest confidant understood. “I never wanted this. This was Logar’s thing, not mine.”

“Russ … this means two major Covenant San’Shyuum are still on this carrier,” Cortana said with urgency. “That oversized space umbrella is their mobile capital, High Charity, but it’s currently escaping before the rest of Home Fleet can catch up to it … I guess that ‘Primal Halo’ they came looking for isn’t here anymore … or never was.”

Cortana paused for a moment, and Russ mentally pictured her folding her arms energetically.

“Now, with those two Prophets in our custody for questioning, we should finally be able to track High Charity down. However, I’m assuming you and your Wolf Guard would prefer to go after them with more pleasant company than just me to keep you entertained.” Cortana’s urgency partially gave way to a light playfulness as she drew to the end of her statement.

Russ’ reply on the other hand was rather even and lacking the typical boisterous nature to it. “Onn can handle the task, but if this is the reception we’ll be getting, Luna’s group should make it easier.” There was a moment of silence following his words, before he looked back to his Wolf Guard. “Luna’s group is closing in. Prepare to end this.”

The declaration was followed by another sudden usage of the Covenant intercom system. What words were said were laden with venomous outrage.

“You will resume your duty in cleansing this holy vessel! Former Hierarch Obligation has spoken a supreme heresy. These so-called gods are tricksters that were left behind and cast our way to lead us astray of the Path! All those on your knees now will rise to my words, or you are to be executed by your peers with prejudice! This is inquisition!”

“Regret is the heretic, brothers! Our Imperial Admiral has revealed this in whispers, Ulgethon was the final sign of our Hierarchs’ betrayal!” one of the Elites proclaimed, only rising partly from his bow.

“Faithless cur! I will silence you and your lies where you stand!” another Honour Guard growled.

What Russ and the Fangs witnessed next was their enemy turning on itself as the formation of Sangheili broke into rancor and savage infighting, adding fire to an insurrection that had now engulfed most of the ship in mere seconds.

“Huh, what an interesting end this will likely be, Russ,” Cortana remarked over the primary comms, eliciting snorts of both bemusement and amusement from a number of the capricorns present.

Status Report
Central Gravity Lift Hangar Bay

Deep within the logistical heart of the Covenant supercarrier’s muster bays, the Wolf Lord of Tra company surveyed her soldiers’ handiwork. One word could be used to describe the chamber that crowned the warship’s primary gravity lift: bedlam.

Every Covenant vehicle the capricorns had encountered that was piloted at the time of their intrusion were now piles of steaming metal slag.

Over two dozen ghosts and their pilots had been torn apart by weapons fire and grenades with their engines detonating shortly after, with nine wraiths and three spectres burned here and there, and the bent and warped barrels of shade turrets and paneling from equipment crates and plasma batteries were scattered all over the hangar every which way.

Meanwhile, the Fangs had broken up into smaller squads, each accompanied by a rune mage to help them track down any surviving Covenant soldiers that were lurking in the wreckage whilst also gathering their own casualties. It was during this mopping up that Rurika had heard the Prophetess Obligation’s address to the entire ship.

With the hangar so far gone to the enemy during the address and Regret’s subsequent counter-declaration, Rurika had seen very little of the schism now tearing apart what sections of the ship the Fangs of Fenris companies, Luna’s force, or Blue Team had not yet reached.

“Wolf Lord Rurika of Tra reporting in. Hangar is secure. Casualties are minimal,” Rurika voiced over the general comms network, relaying her situation to Russ. There was a moment of pause before she got a reply.

“Keep a rear guard, then fester the rest of the Covenant out. You might encounter some deserters … try not to maim them too badly. Pass the new info along,” Russ replied over the link.

“Copy, Great Wolf,” Rurika replied before turning her attention back to her forces in the hangar.

She smiled a toothy grin before calling her company in to gather up, relaying an announcement. “The Covenant are fleeing with their tails between their legs. It’s time for us to secure the rest of this ship for The Great Wolf, let’s move!”

Table of Death
Central Deck

“Hel, status report. The Great Wolf has new info,” Rurika’s voice came over a direct neural comms link. Hel Morkai, Wolf Lord of Tra-Tra, the Maws of Morkai, didn’t answer at first, as she was too busy cutting down an Elite with her great axe, the Axe of Morkai. The Wolf Lord let out a howl of victory before charging into the fray in front of her.

Her company had linked up quickly since the boarding, with their task being to cause general mayhem and disorder among the Covenant ship. To Hel, that meant that Tra-Tra’s job was to kill as many Covenant personnel as possible. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

As of the moment, they were fighting their ways through the hallways of the ship, though Hel’s Wolf Guard and two Grey Hunter packs had engaged the Covenant in a large two story room, a mess hall from the general aesthetics of the area.

“Hel, for once in your life, take a moment away from killing and answer me!” Rurika’s voice cut through again, being annoying enough to earn an eyeroll from Hel as she dodged an Unggoy’s plasma pistol, bringing up her bolter and putting three quick shots into its body, or at least what was left after the first shot.

“Here’s your damn report; we’re slaughtering Covenant like a Kraken going after a school of fish!” Hel replied back over the comms and out loud, punctuating her point with a rather evil sounding laugh. Much like the Wolf Lord of Tra-Tra before her, and the one before that, she had a rather bloodthirsty streak in her. That was something all Fangs in the company had in common. “And I heard the transmission, Rurika. It was relayed over the Legion network.”

She looked out from her little section of cover behind the jutting frame of the ship. Despite every design of the Covenant’s being different, they still had one thing in common; tables. Dashing out from cover as soon as she holstered her bolter and axe, Hel zig zagged through the hailstorm of enemy fire before grabbing a table that had been flipped on its side. In a blur of speed she had turned the table over and used it as a makeshift shield.

Using her sheer strength and enhanced abilities, Hel charged forward with the table, her hearing and sense of smell directing her. The confused Elite she charged at, had no time to move out of the way before being squished against the wall with a booming thud, the charge by Hel being akin to a runaway freight train.

As she drew out her weapons again to engage the enemy in close combat, she spoke out loud again while sending the exact message over the comms link to Rurika. “Their blood looks good splattered on power armour! It’s like a mural of death!”

All that came in reply from Rurika was a deep sigh.

Killing is My Business ...
Antechamber, En-route to Control Center

Shortly after securing the starboard weapons batteries and denying the supercarrier her last remaining means to fight back against Concordat vessels that were participating in the naval battle still raging outside, Luna and her newly-acquired forces cut their own swath of destruction towards the control room. Clearing a hangar defended by three lances of stealth Sangheili and Unggoy resulted in the loss of one of Trixie’s Praetorian Guards and seven Equestrian legionaries before they passed through one of the living decks onboard the ship, one directly above Hel’s own path of destruction.

A loud interior thud sounded from below the group. They knew there was a force battling on the level below them; the sounds of constant streams of weapons fire coming from certain maintenance openings was obvious enough, but the massive thud caused more than a few Equestrian legionaries to look down as if to spot something. They only shrugged in response before moving on.

After that and wiping out the inhabitants of three separate barracks and two common and eating areas with a mixture of weapons fire, melee, and magic, an armoury was encountered. It was closest to the periphery corridors of the control center that the warriors found it just as the conflicting declarations of the two Covenant Prophets had sparked chaos.

Having two entrances on their end of the room’s exterior corridor, Luna ordered Big Mac and the Master Chief to split from them with two quarters of the company to raid the armoury while herself and Trixie took the rest of the legionaries to probe the way into the control center. Both divisions maintained contact over their comms.

“Damn, Regret is ordering his remaining loyal followers on the ship to regroup in the control center to help keep us out and keep their standoff against Obligation’s people inside in check,” Cortana informed the group.

“No …” Trixie interposed. “Not just that. They’re also running from our new allies!”

“We believe Russ’s charges would only take delight at the increasing concentration of foes in one spot. Legate McIntosh, Chief, what do you see in the armoury?” Luna inquired as she and Trixie lead the way into a large antechamber to the control center – one of two primary entrances.

The entrance’s counterpart was currently being observed by Russ and his Wolf Guard as they gradually approached while its Covenant attendants continued to shed each other’s blood.

“You’d have to see it to believe it, Princess,” Big Mac replied first.

“Seven Unggoy majors in the armoury killed one of two Elites present and are forcing the second to juggle plasma grenades at needler-point. They’re chanting something about ‘Obligation is love’ and that all Elites and Prophets are now obligated to do the bidding of Grunts … “ the Chief’s voice trailed off the longer he tried to describe a bizarre situation in the nearby room.

“They’re completely ignoring us,” Big Mac added. “We’re going to clean em’ out unless you have an override, Your Highness.”

“Nay Legate, leave them be and rejoin with us … We have suspicions about this entrance to the control center. Its pervading calm and lack of visible habitation reeks with tactical treachery.”

“Motion sensors are clear, but I suspect more stealthed Covenant in your vicinity,” Cortana cautioned, lending weight to Luna’s suspicions.

“We’re moving now,” came the Chief’s reply as Luna scanned hers and the company’s surroundings with narrowed eyes and her bolter aimed.

Luna and Trixie’s antechamber route was an interesting sight to behold on a warship. At the same time, it was also a foreboding one for almost any commander in Luna’s place.

With a mixture of patches of moss and lichen, trees, small waterworks and ponds, and even some alien birds, the chlorophyll and water-smelling artificial sanctuary would have been a tranquil sensory experience. However, that was rendered fallow by the distant clattering of weapons fire, furious voices, and the occasional subtle lurching of the ship from exterior explosions.

“Your Highness! I think one of those bushes just shuffled over there!” A gryphon legionary said, taking to hovering just above the formation with a few other gryphons and some pegasi, inspecting the nearest garden while peering down his bright repeater’s sights. With that spoken, all of the gryphons aerial colleagues and a large number of their terrestrial counterparts began doing the same.

“Eh … ? Hiiiyah!”

“Gack!” an Unggoy voice cried out in a shrill yelp over their default high-pitched voice as they crumpled to the ground.

To the surprise of some, one of Trixie’s squadmates had just detected and swiftly killed, with a bipedal and air-cracking sideways kick to the skull, an Unggoy that had been using active camouflage.

While the Praetorian earth pony mare spent just a brief second inspecting the slain combatant, she failed to notice the glowing blue of a two-pronged blade as it charged and crackled to life. An energy sword made its way through the soldier’s gut, cleanly penetrating the armour completely as its wielder used it as leverage to raise the soldier into the air and toss her into part of the formation, dazing a couple of the legionaries.

Such a quiet but noticeable kill triggered the whole company to begin lighting up the air with fire in the Elite’s direction.

“Active camo, active camo!” One of the legionaries shouted over the sounds of combined gunfire.

“You don’t say … ?” another shouted.

“Trixie will make you pay for that!” Trixie snapped at the sword-wielding Elite, swapping to her magic and levitating both her rifle and bolter pistol into a motley form of dual wielding as she blasted much of the greenery in her line of sight apart.

Distinct and unnatural shimmering patterns in the air of the antechamber park became visible to both Trixie and the others as the gunfire continued. Concurrently, Legate McIntosh and Master Chief rushed into the room with the other half of the company supporting them, and they all joined the fray.

“Now they move, We can see them!” Luna shouted as she fired her bolter at one of the other stealthed Elites, all the while igniting her horn and charging a spell that would prevent a large number of friendly casualties over the next two minutes. “We can mark them! If it fights veiled in cobalt light and it is not Ourselves, strike it down!”

“Just how much power do you have?” Cortana remarked with amused exasperation.

“A profound question for another time. We do know that ten of these such spells could be casted while raising the Moon in unison before Our mind would begin to risk hemorrhage,” Luna replied in a deliberately mystique-filled tone as she engaged the enemy.

While one Elite half exploded, half toppled over from Luna’s bolter fire, the rest of the Covenant Sangheili, Unggoy, and Kig-Yar all became visible in the chamber as the same cobalt aura imposed itself upon their moving and urgently scrambling forms. They easily numbered over forty, and Luna had already taken to the air with her wings, reducing as many Covenant as she could to burning limbs with bursts of explosive hardlight.

Since all previous semblance of stealth had shattered entirely, the Covenant hostiles present had pulled out all stops and were now using full gear, including point-defense gauntlets on the Kig-Yar.

“Pegasi, gryphons, claim the advantage of heights in those trees,” Luna ordered in mid-flight. “Those with throwable explosives, now is the time to utilize their power.”

“Wuh … the mark of the Dark Goddess is upon us!” one of the Unggoy whimpered.

“She’s everywhere!” another exclaimed with terror. “We chose wrong Prophet!”

The second Unggoy was promptly shot dead by the closest Covenant Kig-Yar mercenary, wielding a beam rifle, at an Elite’s order, before himself and another Unggoy nearby were subsequently killed by one of the Master Chief’s frag grenades after it exploded under them at the edge of a pond.

The resulting plume of water and dirt temporarily dazed the surviving combatants near it, allowing Luna to sweep to the ground once more and cut one of the other Jackals down from behind. She then grabbed the bird-like alien and used him as a battering ram, shield gauntlet-first, against a charging Elite whose plasma bolts both glanced off the shield and burned the Kig-Yar.

As Luna forced the near identical-sized Sangheili back, a telekinesis field she casted swept her sword through a trio of Unggoy along the way like a scythe through grain, and Luna drew one of her bolter pistols once more in her right hand.

Luna placed the barrel through the point defense gauntlet’s right firing groove and against the Elite’s abdomen. She fired the heavy pistol until the enemy warrior’s shield gave way and the flesh beneath sustained catastrophic damage. She then let both bodies topple over in an unruly heap and returned her sword to her left hand before surveying the situation.

Master Chief and Big Mac had joined over twenty-five of the legionaries in an infantry square with all of the latter having deployed their bright-powered counterpart to Kig-Yar gauntlets or simply casted shielding spells. Noticing this, Luna retrieved the dead mercenary’s shield and tossed it to the Master Chief. He caught it with a nod while Big Mac got Trixie’s attention with a wave of his foreleg at her own infantry square and they traded gestures that relayed their intended movement.

Both infantry squares coalesced into a single defensive circle as the gryphons and pegasi infantry supported from above. Several legionaries had been cut down by plasma bolts, but the Covenant in the room were being depleted and exhausted much more quickly from the aerial-dropped grenades and harassment from above that forced them to divide their attention.

It was then that Cortana opened up on a channel unexpectedly with a new development. In the interest of conserving comms channel usage, all naval chatter had been directed her way on the main channel for the majority of the boarding operation.

“Got some good news and some bad news now that we’re just waiting on Blue Team. It may be a little bit before they join Russ’ force and ourselves at the control center entrances while we secure our side,” Cortana said in an even, neutral tone.

“We’re listening … well, Trixie knows the gunfire is currently boisterous universally aboard this ship, but we’re listening nonetheless!” Trixie chimed in.

“Boisterous? Obviously you’ve never seen Viveka when she’s drunk,” Erik Twiceslain’s voice came over the comms network, earning multiple growling laughs from other Fangs.

“I’ll make you eat your words, Erik. I’ll use you as a personal shield if I have too!” Viveka Siegebreaker replied in response.

“Stop bickering you two and shut your traps,” Dagmar snapped at the pair. “We’re listening.”

“High Charity and its defense fleet retreated back the way they came. But, Regret’s fleet is still a problem; Roam’s ICBM arsenal and Home Fleet did a catastrophic number on it, but even without command from the Imperial Admiral we’re about to meet, their surviving shipmasters are slippery navigators. I’m still seeing right now if I can find anything on High Charity’s rally point from here in the Transcendence’s nav computers.”

“Where is the Spartan team? They’re testing my patience,” Russ questioned, a little bit of irritation on his voice.

“If those stealth Covenant Luna’s company encountered were any indication, I’d guess they’ve been running into ambushes outside engineering,” Cortana speculated.

“Hunters, actually!” Fred responded. “Apparently we were near where most of the ship’s living tanks tended to congregate, and none of them were turning against each other, so … bit of a delay.”

“We’ll move without them if they can’t handle a few foes. Onn, prepare to end this! Luna, if you want to be there, I suggest you hurry. Opportunity dwindles if not seized right away,” Russ stated with finality before leaving the comm network.

While the Chief whittled down another Elite’s shield with his assault rifle and Trixie finished him off with three bolter pistol shots, Luna responded before issuing her next order.

“We are already on the cusp of our own incursion inside, and thank thee, Cortana! Legionaries, Russ has given voice to the very action all of ye no doubt crave for in thy minds. It is time we make that action real!” the alicorn said.

“Amity and courage! Glory and might!” The Imperial Legion company and Legate McIntosh answered in unison as they felled the remaining stealth Covenant in the antechamber before forming up behind and around Luna, Trixie, Master Chief. The frontmost storm legionaries were interlocking their shields.

“Unit, forward march! Shield wall, forward and breach,” Luna directed, her drawn sword pointed blade-first at the blast door that was now the sole obstacle guarding the way to the control center beyond.

Golden-hued magical shield gauntlets quickly marched towards the door with a breadth of ten soldiers across. Most had swapped to their sidearms for usage with the shield, but a few still carried their rifles in one hand, talon, or hoof. The barrels jutted out in between the crenellations of the shielded formation like serpent’s tongues.

Two of the company’s unicorns advanced with the shield wall towards on either side. They ignited their horns and began magically blasting their way along the lines of the blast door’s panel contacts that converged on the same central locking mechanism that adorned most doors on the Covenant carrier.

When the lock was at last melted and the door structurally compromised, two earth ponies in the formation pressed ahead a meter and line themselves to parallel to each other, facing the door.

In synchronization, the duo kicked the surface of the blast door with enough force to warp it. Luna saw that it would require at least another two consecutive pairs of kicking to topple the door with finality, so she promptly moved in betwixt them.

“We will assist,” Luna declared with a light smile.

The legionaries hesitated at her with surprise for only a second before all three this time sent their combined kicks into the alien-manufactured alloy. Such force, instead of toppling the door, sent it flying a whole another meter back.

“For Equis!” some of the company shouted as everyone pressed their way into the control center.

As armoured boots and hooves stomped over the crumpled metal of the blast door, Luna’s force was met with an unsurprising but chaotic sight.

An entire Covenant force in the tremendous circular chamber that surrounded the bridge’s primary rooms was locked in a three-way fight between the rogue Covenant that occupied most of the interior, as well as Russ and the Fangs of Onn company that had already entered from the other side – a tactical position that was tantamount to oblivion.

Dozens of Elites, scores of Unggoy, and three hunter pairs supported by the occasional irregular grouping of Kig-Yar skirmisher specialists and Huragok all loyal – save for the latter-most case, given Engineers’ default neutral disposition – to the Prophet of Regret stood in between the Concordat boarding team and what was inside the Sublime Transcendence’s bridge. The battle against them was brief but just as equally fierce and bloody.

All of Regret’s remaining loyalists in and around the control center were dead. However, there were the exceptions of the Kig-Yar mercenaries that had surrendered when obliteration became evident as the only other choice, as well as the Engineers, which had been noncombatants from the start. With the loyalists out of the picture, some newcomers made their presence known in the now casualty and debris-riddled outer perimeter of the control center.

... And Business is Good
Control Center

A group of several Sangheili emerged from the inner control center. Their weapons were holstered and were not in combative stances.

Disturbingly to some that observed, the group of Elites seemed as if in a state of worship. They were like cultists being lead by some invisible hierophant towards a sacred altar.

“R’tussan, Sharpened Sword of the Alicorns! Li’una, one of the Mover-of-Moons! Holiest ones, we are Your servants.” a Sangheili Honour Guard greeted, kneeling. “We, specifically, are the newly enlightened Witnesses of R’tussan! Our Imperial Admiral Xytan ‘Jar Wattinree, in the stead of the Prophetess of Obligation, humbly requests audience in the control center of this vessel, Your present followers included.”

“In Obligation’s stead? This could be a trap,” Cortana cautioned quietly to both Luna and Leman via their respective neural links. “Not that they are a legitimate threat to us, but you know, the humiliation of springing enemies’ traps and such … okay, probably not a legitimate threat either.”

Luna shook her head in befuddlement at Cortana before regarding the Sangheili for a moment studiously. “This battle draws to a close both within and without this vessel, and this parley shall be the end of it. We accept this audience with thy admiral. Be warned however, any treachery shall result in thy collective doom. We shall dispense vengeance in manner quasi-reminiscent of the deities you claim us to be.”

“A … thousand pardons, we know not to trifle with the burning wrath of living gods, Your Holiness,” one of the other Honour Guards replied, his brain refusing to scrutinize the alicorn’s wording for fear of such a powerful being.

A glance from Luna over to Russ revealed what he thought of the ‘Witnesses of R’tussan’, as his expression was lined with cold disgust at what he was hearing. He looked as though he was about to saying something, or to even raise his blade to the Sangheili, but instead he merely turned his head away, his features still showing his disgust.

“Onn, stay out here, all of you included,” Russ said towards the gathered Fangs and his Wolf Guard before turning his head to the sole Promethean Wolf in the room. “Let us finish this, Bjorn.”

“You’re taking the oversized trash can but not us?!” Krom spoke out as he stepped forward but was instantly quelled with barred teeth from Russ. That didn’t stop him from voicing his dissent. “You stripped us of our Companies and you won’t even let us do our new task?”

“Your task has always been to follow my orders, Krom. I expect you to do it. Secure the rest of the ship,” Russ replied with ice in every word he spoke.

“But Jarl-” Dagmar tried to speak before silencing her words in her own throat.

“You have trusted my leadership through the countless eons, just trust me once more, Dagmar” Russ spoke before walking towards the final room to finish this fight. None of his Wolf Guard looked pleased with his choice but they knew that their Great Wolf worked in mysterious ways.

"Eons, says the Sharpened Sword! What profound power and wisdom the Gods must have amassed over so long a span before beginning the Journey!" one of the Elites cut in.

“Be quiet with that ‘Gods’ nonsense! I am no god!” Russ snapped at the Elites, his anger coming to a head at that line alone.

“If this is a test of faith, then you will not be disappointed, Holy One!” another of the Sangheili nearest Russ declared with dedication in his voice, before scratching at one of his mandibles.

There was an audile sigh from the large capricorn, followed by snickers from a couple in the Wolf Guard that had overheard as everyone proceeded onwards.

Entering a spacious room of holographic displays and elevated workspace platforms, Luna, Chief, Russ, Trixie, McIntosh, and Bjorn’s thundering form all regarded the tallest Sangheili any of them had yet seen.

The massive figure was roughly equal in height with Luna, Russ, and the Master Chief, who were otherwise amongst the tallest beings currently onboard the Transcendence if the Mgalekgolo, Bjorn, and the rest of the Promethean Wolves were not taken into account. The Elite commander’s forbearance was as stoic and wistful as a derelict orbital platform that still kept watch over its parent world. His armour was heavily ornate and sported a cape. Each surface was adorned at regular intervals by Forerunner and Alicorn symbology.

Imperial Admiral Xytan ‘Jar Wattinree was obviously not alone in the control room; there was no privacy to alleviate his existential brooding. The Prophet of Truth, one of three main sources of the alien Admiral’s woes, hovered nearby whilst wielding a poisonous glare that he cast at all in his sight.

The San’Shyuum was under constant guard by the Honour Guards that had betrayed him and each wielding either a concussion rifle or a plasma launcher. If he so much as fired his throne’s weapon systems once, Regret would be vapourized near instantaneously.

Besides them were several other Sangheili and a few remaining Unggoy who had taken to gathering in a circle, chanting something amongst themselves about the ‘Mover-of-Moons.’

“Blessed Forerunners and Alicorns above them, the living false idols walk amongst us. I am breathing the air of heresy itself! The burden of consequence from your blasphemies will weigh you down beneath the tides when the worthy pass into the divine beyond!” Regret taunted at the newcomers from his perilous position.

Luna and the others met his gaze with their own glares that were enough to make the Prophet stall any further words he had in his throat from sheer wordless loathing, never to be uttered.

“Silence, ‘ere I end your ‘state of grace’ for all time as we did to your defiant stewards!” one of the presiding Honour Guards snarled.

Meanwhile, Wattinree himself paid the Hierarch no further attention after having had to settle for spending several long minutes of the ship-wide battle studying Regret in a considerably new light. He instead greeted his new guests, approaching just a few steps down and towards them from the main command platform he stood upon. Towering holographic readouts stood behind him – schematics of the ship that glowed an urgent red in several places.

“So you are the so-called Gods that we’ve encountered in person as a consequence of this foredoomed expedition to a distant star system,” Wattinree spoke, gesturing to everything around them. “Lod Mron’s – Regret’s – once exalted aunt speaks truly … if to only an extent. I welcome you aboard my ship, in spite of all that has happened this day.”

Luna was the first to stride up to address the Sangheili leader in kind, her face bearing little expression but still conveying a degree of coldness. “Thine willingness to parley is to be commended, considering what We have heard of this Covenant Empire from which thou hails. Now answer Us thusly, what was it thou sought in coming here? What is the Primal Halo? And where has Obligation gone to?”

“Obligation has taken my weapons master Sanji’ik, some of the Honour Guard, and the Huragok with her to rally the others in the remainder of my ship to a cessation of hostilities,” Wattinree explained. His body language indicated that extremely truncated information from then onwards was forthcoming.

“And? We’re listening,” the Chief responded, holding his rifle in the air in an appropriate level of readiness as he processed the words of what was still in all official Concordat definition an enemy commander.

“You’re clearly not like the rest, Elite. You use your senses where the rest shut them out. Yet you still serve as if a pelt is tied over your eyes … why?” Russ spoke up, earning the direct attention of Wattinree.

“In your time you must have seen many servants that were greater than the sum of their masters. In my own case, rising above my station in the interest of truth would have only hindered the process for those reformers and truth-bearers that would come after. I realize it is not my lot in life, I am but one mason of many who pave the roads along the journey for the truly exalted to forge ahead. As for the answer to your questions, Li’una, you will be granted them. But at a cost.”

“What might that be?” Trixie interjected for Luna, standing on all fours now and telekinetically adjusting one of the straps on her armour with both her bolter pistol and bright rifle ready to be drawn at a moment’s notice.

Wattinree balled his long fingers into fists. “The computer on my person will answer many of your questions and no doubt garner more, none of which your intrusive construct will have been able to dredge up from our machines without some variety of your equine sorcery we still have yet to secure a grasp of understanding upon.”

“I guess I’m good but not that good, I can’t digitally ‘possess’ a data device that is not connected to a network,” Cortana mused so that even the Imperial Admiral could hear over what remained of his fleet’s battlenet. “Using magic to retrieve it form your person would probably be dishonourable, huh?”

“To answer your questions, one of you must claim my life in combat. Claim what I know with a key of repentant blood. Obligation will reveal the rest when she returns here to the control center. I have spent these long and demanding decades as the distinguished leader of a corrupt theocracy. The existence of those such as you here before me now is evidence that the Sacred Rings are no key to apotheosis.”

“If you are seeking a worthy death, then I will grant your wish,” Russ spoke as he stepped forward, drawing Krakenmaw in a smooth stroke. “Be it far from me to judge your foolishness.”

“I have spoken at a length well beyond a warrior-tactician’s share; it is more akin to a politician’s. My prattling is more indication of the necessity of this …” Wattinree drew the hilt of his sword, and the blade crackled to life as he held it in front of his chest, bringing it to a readied position with the twin prongs of the blade pointing to the floor, “signs of degeneration wrought by San’Shyuum lies. Let us cease speaking any further, the spirits that reside in our weapons shall conduct the final parley.”

With an air of finality, the two warriors approached one another in the center of the control room. All else present parted to make way for both.

As if part of the same cosmic clockwork, Russ and Wattinree charged one another at the same time. The former held Krakenmaw in the air in a downward slash as he lunged forward, while the latter had his energy sword out in a purely horizontal slash. Electromagnetically confined plasma met the impossibly hardened and sharpened enamel of ancient beast’s tooth in the air between the two with a small showering of sparks.

Wattinree was forced back a few steps from the sheer force of the Praetor’s momentum. As they held their blades against another for the three-second span, the Sangheili admiral realized that fate had heeded his wish and placed a proper executioner in his path. Meanwhile, as his foe recovered from the pushback and readied his counterattack, Russ pondered in the brief moment of thought his attuned reflexes allotted him as. Why would such a capable warrior logically waste their ability by deliberately dooming themselves in battle against a technologically and physiologically superior foe?

Russ did not wait for Wattinree’s counterattack to land itself against his blade, instead throwing out an armoured fist in the place where he knew Wattinree would be milliseconds into the future. Wattinree’s mandibles bore the brunt of the impact, and Russ was quick to note as Wattinree reeled back again that the Elite did so in a semi-deliberate fashion so as to leave openings for Russ to exploit.

The Praetor readily obliged the Sangheili, side-stepping Wattinree’s lunge and swinging his blade along his back, just missing the spine but drawing a long and vicious diagonal cut through the armour that immediately spilled violet rivulets.

The Imperial Admiral’s sense of self-honour had obviously decayed along with his faith over the years to deliberately leave such openings for his opponent. Self honour had been maintained only ostensibly to please his superiors while he worked his designs in the shadows, helping to prepare his allies in the rest of the Covenant for what he had seen coming.

Like Russ’ sword, so too had Wattinree see his own death incoming, a self-assigned eventuality. The first stroke Wattinree parried, but the second came too fast for Wattinree in his psychological state to respond to.

Krakenmaw pierced Wattinree in the abdomen, running him through. Russ pulled on the hilt of his sword to force the Elite to the ground as he instinctively reached towards his own wound. Wattinree’s energy sword, still charged, was kicked out of Russ’ way as he closed what little distance remained between them to meet the fallen warrior at eye level.

“Tell me, Sangheili, do you see me as a god?” Russ spoke quietly, only him and his foe being able to hear his words.

“There are no gods. There are only empty thrones.”

Russ smiled lightly, a softer smile then normal. “To think that someone as educated as you, threw your life away. No better than my own brothers. Let me grant you a warrior’s death.”

At those words, Russ withdrew his now violet-soaked sword from his bested opponent and brought it through the air a final time, beheading Wattinree in a clean horizontal stroke. The Sangheili toppled over with a final weighty thump, and Russ motioned to begin wiping off the blood that had gathered on Krakenmaw.

“How unfortunate such an accomplished tactical mind was lost to insanity,” Regret commented with ire. “Perhaps that head truly was too topheavy to properly tread the Path.”

Lod Mron’s remark earned him only another barrage of frustrated, death-seeking stares from many that paid him notice.

“The Admiral’s sacrifice to R’tussan’s glory was accepted by the god himself! Most supreme reverence from Your faithful, Holy One!” An Elite declared, causing all those present who identified with the newly-founded cult to kneel down.

Russ stared at the friendly Elites before covering his muzzle and face with a gauntleted hand, a deep sigh rumbling out from him. “I have no words for this. No words.”

As if to punctuate the extreme annoyance Russ was feeling at hearing them speak like that. Bjorn’s massive metallic body hit the ground with a large thud, all the while his synthetic voice could be heard howling in laughter at the discomfort of his Praetor. More than a few Equestrian eyes were drawn to the odd sight of a metallic werewolf rolling on the floor and laughing at his leader.

A sudden explosive crack went off right next to Bjorn’s head, forcing the Promethean Wolf to stop his guffawing. Russ’ bolter was drawn and the barrel smoking but he was in the process of stowing it.

“We are of the opinion from the limited but growing information and experience We possess that the Covenant’s present leadership and theology is clearly a quagmire of virulent delusions and careful manipulation,” Luna said, surveying the remains of Wattinree. “That the ongoing Great War was a product of first contact with their hegemony comes as no surprise.”

“Harvest speaks for itself,” Big Mac said to nobody in particular.

Master Chief, Trixie, a few of the dozen legionaries that had ventured in, and even a handful of the Sangheili present nodded or voiced their agreement in regards to the topic of the planet Harvest.

Luna was prompted by the moment to point a finger in Regret’s direction. “We want this fiend secured. Not in any worldly prison. No, Tartarus shall be his lot, We think. We shall send word to sister asking for approval.”

“Why would I be sent to the Chieftain of the Brutes?!” Regret spit out. “Oh, wait, you mean that heathen fantasy where the villainous are sent for punishment? You vermin are devoid of any semblance of sense. Is it any surprise why we scour your worlds and leave so many in cinders, bleaching the minds of those who comply so that they may be compatible with the superior grace of our Covenant?”

“Tsk tsk, keep running your mouth. Trixie will be happy to put the adhesive on your lips and rip it off several times over,” Trixie taunted back.

While the present Imperial battlemages of Big Mac’s company worked with Trixie and her remaining Praetorians to restrain the Prophet of Regret and disable the weapons on his gravity throne, many heads turned as most of the room noticed the main door opening with its distinctive chime.

Some present like Trixie and Big Mac were more surprised. Most doors they had passed through during the battle had been blasted, kicked, or otherwise forced through rather than properly opened.

The Prophetess of Obligation and her companions appeared through the intact door: a tall female Sangheili, and a trio of serene Huragok that regarded the strangers in the control center with bodies glowing specific hues to convey their curiosity.

Like Regret, Obligation’s method of conveyance was a highly ornate and rather bulky gravity throne, and she was clothed in the vestments of what denoted both Covenant high clergy and prominent politicians. They were striking crimson robes with violet trim and ostentatious embroidering.

In sheer contrast to her reigning counterparts’ however, Obligation’s kindly face remained fair and beautiful for a San’Shyuum of her more elevated age. It smiled warmly and unmarred by her nephew’s default spiteful and arrogant chill.

Taking a moment to appraise the both exotic and familiar newcomers that had manifested on the Sublime Transcendence over the past two hours, Obligation parted her lips to speak. “Distinguished warriors of the Concordat, alleged divinities in company, we have much to discuss between our peoples.”