Chapter Text
1425HRS, AUGUST 8, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR)
EPSILON ERIDANI SYSTEM, TARGET [REDACTED], PLANET TRIBUTE.
The ODSTs had dropped behind enemy lines as planned, the Covenant's attack on Tribute proceeding with characteristic brutality. Resistance seemed to be getting thicker the closer to their target they moved, but they'd expected that, after months of fighting them here, and years elsewhere. The Covenant were following patrol routes, burning anyone they found. The ODSTs ducked into the cover of one of the shipyard's buildings, as a Phantom moved overhead, bucking and weaving its way across the sky.
"Is that thing drunk? Do Covies get drunk?" Lance Corporal Palmer called over the teamcom as they opened fire on a pack of Brutes, having dispatched the Grunts they'd sent out to absorb the humans' fire. They were the only four ODSTs left in this sector, and the Brute pack had to be at least twenty strong. Fortunately, the Covenant seemed just as distracted by the Phantom's strange behavior as the troopers were.
"Probably celebrate torching our worlds on their holy quest." The sergeant sneered.
"I've got just the thing," one of the squad muttered, sighting up on the careening vehicle. The rocket whooshed towards the underside of the craft, the bucking Phantom almost swerving out of the way. The rocket detonated on the hull, and fire billowed from beneath, sending it listing further to one side.
"Chieftan, focus fire!" The sergeant yelled out, seeing the brute charge towards them, as he emptied his assault rifle's clip, the rounds splashing and sparking against the hammer-wielding aggressor's shields. He didn't break step as the Phantom slammed into the ground behind him, framing his charging form before a backdrop of twisted nanolaminate and purple flames. Palmer nodded at the signal to retreat, not taking her gaze from this deadly enemy. With practiced efficiency, she slapped a fresh magazine into her weapon and continued to fire in short bursts, probing for weaknesses in the shield. A small, glowing blue globe whined as it stuck itself to the Jiralhanae's right shoulder, the brute roaring its rage and charging faster towards the UNSC forces. They'd seen no sign of the person throwing it, but they took advantage of it. The detonation drained its shields, and four assault rifles tore through the Chieftan's armor and the flesh below, ending its charge.
A sword-wielding Sangheili was thrown rather unceremoniously into view, followed swiftly by a dull grey armored human. Golden light danced across the Spartan's armor, his shields depleted by the fight. The knife in his hand suggested to the ODSTs that he was out of ammunition, though he still had a pistol mag-locked to his hip. Corey was holding his own. However, days of constant fighting, the tremendous losses on Reach - being forced to abandon those who remained - were all taking their toll on him. He drew blood with the blade, driving the elite back as he ducked a vicious slash from the swordsman. Exhaustion was costing him, though, his ability to find what had been dubbed 'Spartan time' was failing him.
The ODSTs watched the Spartan fight, unable to get a clear shot at the elite. Palmer moved to flank, switching to her pistol for a more precise strike. Corey buried the blade beneath the elite's combat harness, and despite his augmented strength, he was unable to pull it clear. That moment of struggle, of hesitation, was all that the Sangheili needed. Delivering a vicious kick to the Spartan's armored torso, he sent Corey tumbling to the ground, gasping for air. The zealot leaped after him, using its bulk to pin his legs while Corey struggled desperately to keep the tip of the energy sword from piercing his bulbous faceplate.
Two shots rang out, and Corey felt the elite go slack. He rolled it to the side with obvious effort, removing the energy sword from its hand as they approached. Palmer holstered her pistol, reaching down to give him a helping hand. Gripping her wrist, Corey levered himself to his feet, placing the sword into her hand.
"Thank you," he murmured, removing his helmet with a hiss. While the ODST squad ensured that the perimeter was clear, Palmer removed her helmet. "I thought I was dead for sure."He felt the start of a smile creep onto his lips as his startling blue eyes locked onto her rich brown ones.
"Anytime," Palmer smirked. "I'd ask your flight instructor for a refund." She gestured at the Phantom.
"I may just do that," he grinned, despite himself, feeling oddly warm at her proximity as she cleared the blood from his cheek. "I'm Corey, by the way. You are...?"
"Sarah. Sarah Palmer," her tone was much softer than it had been.