Prime Spear Saren Arterius
TSF Sacred Duty, Achalius-class Support Cruiser
Council Calendar: Day 13, Year 2657

After a cursory check, Prime Spear Saren Arterius folded up his black M8 Predator and placed the lightweight assault rifle on his back. Powerful magnetic clasps on his armor pulled the weapon close, affixing it with a light plunk. "Alright soldiers, time to bring these newcomers to heel. Weapons check!"

The soldiers yelled out "check!" in unison.

"Armor check!"

"Check!" they cried out again.

Saren removed his helmet from the locker and placed it gently on his head. The back part of the helmet wrapped itself around his head as it closed, then a "pssh" from the suction of the seal reverberated through the enclosed area inside. A diagnostic tool displayed a simple green dot in the top right of his display. "Systems check!" he yelled out.

"Check!"

"Good. I'll see you all on the ground. Now let's move out!" Saren turned on the balls of his armored, taloned feet and strode inside of one of ten Actina-class shuttles parked in the cruiser's large bay. His hundred soldiers followed suit.

Saren looked around the interior of the familiar ship as his pilots walked past. "Excuse me, sir," said one as he squeezed past his prime spear. The crew and its cargo all sat down in the front-facing utilitarian chairs as the door on the left closed and shut with a hiss.

"Depressurizing the bay in twelve," the shuttle's intercom blared out. "Depressurizing," it continued, followed by a "depressurization complete" forty seconds later, "spirits guide you down there."

Saren's shuttle's mass effect field engaged. He could tell- his stomach always felt like it was about to flip whenever it did. Like a calpus' gullet, the cruiser bay doors opened outwards and vertically, as the shuttle lifted itself up off of the launch bay, its body pregnant with anticipation. Behind the protection of his cruiser, an inky void and the curvature of the blue and white alien world below dominated the background.

"Launching," his pilot informed the crew. Saren didn't feel a thing as his shuttle, the lead, of course, glided itself from the bay and into space. He could see elements of the turian fleet as little, tiny gray dots illuminated by the blue star at the center of the system. His shuttle fired its forward thrusters and began to fall into the planet. In the far distance, debris and turian ships surrounded a massive, metal tendril reaching into space. A blue tear in space opened up above the spire, followed by the red and and orange of an explosion from its' central station. "Must be the boarding parties," the pilot thought aloud as he pressed a few buttons on the control console.

Motes of orange moved across the interface. The backup pilot darted her head left and right. "We see you tenth wing," she spoke to no one that Saren could see, "your assistance is appreciated."

"Acknowledged," the head pilot responded before craning his head back, "beginning our descent."

Saren's shuttle dipped slightly, then rocketed downward as the curvature of the planet rose ever higher in their sights, falling right into the maw of that great, blue sphere. In his head, he'd gone over the plan a hundred times- take out the anti-air installations at the edge of the main city so the main force can make its way to the base of the space elevator by frigate. The sprawling volcanic tunnel network of the planet thankfully didn't extend to the area of bedrock where his group would be fighting- closer more to the massive mountain ridge buttressing the city on the other end- along with more of the military installations. One hundred soldiers, with another hundred in reserve on the TSF Gauntlet of Might and the TSF Gauntlet of Power, plus the supporting fighter squadron, should be more than enough, he convinced himself.

As the shuttle fell ever further into the aliens' world, the arc of the horizon lessened with every kilometer. Plumes of red began careening over the kinetic barrier and into the cockpit from the heat of the entry, with the barrier's twinkles of blue mixing in. Saren always found it to be a calming sight.

His helmet chirped to life. "Seventh spear," the mission controller began, "be advised, gravity is point eight eight six Palaven standard. Atmosphere pressure and composition is similar to Palaven and should be safe to breathe, barring allergens. Keep yourself suited just in case. Mission objective is crowded with aliens, assumed to be hostile elements. We count just shy of seventy. We'll push an updated map of the defensive installation to you as soon as we are able. Stay safe out there."

The flames licking at the barriers were dissipating; they were close to the surface now. Saren reflexively nodded. "Thank you, mission control. Keep us up to date." He opened his comm network to his hundred soldiers. "Soldiers of the seventh spear, we are going up against an unknown enemy- an unknown enemy that our intelligence believes does not use the mass effect. Expect the unexpected, but remember your training. The Hierarchy has forged you to be the finest, most precise, most deadly instruments of war in the galaxy, and we will repay their generosity by crushing all that we come across." The craft levelled off atop an ocean with a beach in the distance, and blue-leafed trees behind it. "Is that understood, soldiers?"

The soldiers shouted an affirmation in unison. "Yes sir!" The shuttle responded with a surge in acceleration.

"Excellent."

The two pilots looked at the radar display. One pointed at it as the beach inched ever closer. "We're getting some radar pings in the distance. Inbound enemy aircraft one hundred twenty kilometers away. They'll be on us in less than a minute. Brace for evasive maneu-"

A red light exploded from the front as a wave of pressure slammed into Saren's chest, caving it in. Everything went black.

Commander Zaeed Massani
Nova Beideihe Province, UEG Shanxi, Shanxi System
UNSC Military Calendar: February 4, 2561

Shanxi's blue sun was just beginning to crest its way over the horizon of the Nova Beideihe Bay as a beam of light cut through the early dawn.

"Did you fuckin' see that!?" Zaeed turned to his left, to his spec-ops partner for a half-dozen-plus years now, as he lowered the massive green weapon sitting on his shoulder. "Boom! Right through the fuckin' cockpit!"

Lieutenant Vido Santiago followed the descending brown and red dropship into the forest canopy with his head, smoke and flames billowing out of the 25-credit-sized hole, a smile visibly widening across his face through his helmet the lower the vessel flew. "Not a bad shot, old man."

The other alien vessels responded in kind by veering wildly in an evasive pattern.

"Not a bad shot?" Zaeed stared at Vido with an incredulous look, "that was fucking perfect! Fuckin' art is what it was!" He looked up at the smoke in the sky and then to his five-man fireteam and the warthogs behind them. "Right, let's move, ladies, grab your shit! ONI's not paying us for a beach vacation; let's kidnap some aliens!"

The M12 Force Application Vehicle, commonly (and affectionately) known as the Warthog, was the most ubiquitous ground vehicle in the UNSC arsenal by a factor of three. Four nigh-indestructible wheels composed of carbon nanotubes, layers of specially strengthened titanium-A and ballistic polycarbonate for a chassis, and a hydrogen engine as solid as bedrock formed the basis of the pickup truck-esque vehicle with a seemingly infinite number of derivatives. Zaeed and his team rode into the provincial bay on two such variants: an M12 Light Reconnaissance Vehicle, a regular warthog with an M46 "Vulcan" Light Anti-Aircraft Gun, a triple-barreled monster of a cannon, and an M12-831 Troop Transport, the pickup truck section replaced with seating for four and a small blood tray for wounded to lay on. Considering the terrain, both had the M686 Tropical modifications- extra ride height, tougher suspension, additional corrosion-resistant coating, and a different camouflage pattern to better blend into the jungle backdrop.

"Horsham, Decker, get back in that transport. My 'hog'll get point. Zee, you're on the LAAG," he pointed to the second Warthog's massive bed-mounted gun, "Vido, you're my shotgun."

A chorus of acknowledgements rang out as Zaeed made his way to the driver's seat of his large, heavy vehicle. Zaeed's left food stood on the climb-bars, and he lifted his right foot into the cockpit. His left hand grabbed a pull-handle and his right pulled him into his seat. Above, he heard the telltale whistling of UNSC Broadsword air superiority fighters meeting the remaining alien dropships.

After dropping the cumbersome M6 G/GNR laser he used to blow up the alien dropship into a tray behind the driver's seat and his beloved assault rifle into his lap, Zaeed briefly re-familiarized himself with the controls: steering wheel, a half-dozen useless dials, way too many warning lights, transfer-case, gas and brake pedal under the right foot, and e-brake just near his right hand. He looked forward, picturing a long, winding road through the hundred-meter tall Shanxi Red Palms that dominated the landscape in these equatorial regions. Life was pretty good.

He pushed the engine start button as twelve liters of pure power rumbled to life. The commander's left hand flicked a switch to "four wheel drive" on the transfer case controls and slammed on the gas pedal. Each of the four tires spun furiously before their carbon compound found purchase in the soft loam of the bay's soil and the vehicle rocketed off into the jungle.

A shit-eating grin made its way across the Commander's face. "God damn I fuckin' love a good 'hog," he mentioned to the universe. "Vido, get me a path to the crashed ship," Zaeed ordered as his chariot careened into the air off of the massive roots of the thirty story tall trees.

The vehicle landed, jerking Vido's head forward. He recomposed himself and gave an affirmative "Yes sir!" as the jungle whizzed by. Not twenty seconds later, a waypoint appeared on everyone's helmets. "Mission control sent the waypoint to the HUD. Eee-tee-aay is about five minutes, sir."

"I'll get there in three," Zaeed challenged, reading over the helmet's heads-up-display's directions as he pressed his foot deeper into the gas pedal. A screen in the center console showed Horsham's troop transport keeping up through the rear-facing camera as the pair of vehicles raced through the jungle undergrowth at eighty kilometers per hour.

The bushes on the ground of Shanxi's tropics were, mercifully, nothing the 'hogs couldn't handle. The gargantuan trees and their massive canopies blotted out most of the sun at the floor, preventing larger foliage from ever growing, and kept the ground shaded and cool. Zaeed depolarized his helmet with his left hand as he veered hard with his right.

Bushes and thick tree trunks whizzed by as massive, alien mosquitos met grizzly fates across the front of the pair of speeding vehicles. "Should see it in a few, Commander," the Lieutenant pointed out, as a billowing plume of smoke made its way into view through a series of broken tree tops. "There it is," pointed Vido.

Zaeed slowed his convoy slowed down to reasonable speeds before barking an order- "weapons ready, kids." Affirmative green dots appeared in his visor next to each of his squad members.

The convoy rounded a massive Shanxi Devil's Tongue to a scene of devastation. The alien dropship had seemingly lost altitude control and head-first into a series of tree-tops. At first, the shuttle won, until it didn't, got partially stuck on tree, flipped over, and slid roof-first into the jungle floor.

"Oof," Decker vocalized.

The shuttle itself could best be described as a flying brick. It was wide- much wider than it was tall- and long- maybe 20 or 30 meters. The front was smaller than the engine-packed rear and was entirely angular. Sloped side-walls looked like they were meant for fending off tank shells. Between the various triangularly shaped panels, a glowing red light next to a square panel shone through.

The Warthogs stopped ten meters from the downed ship. "That light's probably for the door," Zaeed pointed out. "Decker, grab your shotgun, you're point," ordered the Zaeed as he began stepping down. "We'll throw frags in the back and pick up any survivors."

"Sir?"

The commander landed with an unsatisfying squish in the soft mud. "We only need a couple of 'em alive, kid." He slung his rifle over his right shoulder and detached a pair of fragmentation grenades as he began tearing his boots from the ground and moving them over to the downed shuttle. "Besides, ONI claims they're tough sons of bitches. Just checkin' their intel."

Decker joined his commander in the loam, gave an affirmative "yes sir," and began checking his shotgun.

Massani made his way to the overturned shuttle's door panel. "Looks like there's a lever," he noted before forming up on that side of the door, his own shotgun in-hand, Decker on the other. The commander stared at his call for a moment. "Ready, kid?" He nodded. "Good. Vido, Horsham, you're on fire support. Zee, stay on that LAAG. Anything we're not dragging out better be dead." Green lights appeared on the commander's HUD. "Good. Pulling the lever."

Zaeed's large hands crammed into the small handle and pushed downwards, hard. The red light started flashing, at first slowly, then faster, as a beeping synchronized itself to the flashing. "Stand back a bit," he ordered, raising his shotgun. The sound reached a high-pitched whine as a pair of explosions rocked the top of the dirt-brown door panel, then two more at a hinge below, and then a final two below those. A pair of thin panels fell away, revealing a sea of heads strapped in upside down and broken, ribbed ceiling joints, light fixtures, and overhead storage.

Commander Massani wasted no time. He and his care pulled a fragmentation grenade from their chests, then lobbed them in the aft-end of the ship. One, two, and a pair of explosions rocked the vessel. Time slowed as the adrenaline kicked in. Zaeed began raised his shotgun while motioning to Decker with his helmet.

The kid went inside, flashlight on, followed by Zaeed. In the aft, blue blood, fragments of metal, and chunks of fleshy bits caked the walls around the pair of explosion sites. "Holy shit. Commander, I thought ONI said they all had shields?" Line upon line of alien creatures sat facing forward, what was left of most of their heads hanging like so many apples from a tree. Each, except for one half-torsoless corpse slouched at the back, was restrained in by straps.

"Office of Not Intelligent, kid," quipped the commander as he gripped his shotgun a little looser. "The ones up front might be alive."

Decker started moving over the alien on the far side as Zaeed turned to look at the cockpit. The small hole from his laser shot erupted in a spectacular explosion inside, engulfing the pilots and their control systems. Burnt liquids, broken buttons, and the outer-half of some bodies were all that remained of the front.

As Massani scanned the alien controls, the alien Decker was starting to cut down pulled its sidearm out. Even hanging upside down, there was no dodging at that range- three dull thumps highlighted with a bright blue light echoed through the cockpit and found purchase in Decker's chest.

Zaeed pulled his shotgun up and responded with five shots of his own. The first shell hit a brilliant blue barrier, but the second hit the alien's chest plate. The third and fourth hit flesh as the alien dropped its sidearm, arms hanging limply towards the roof. The commander ran to Decker and, with his left arm around the ODST's neck cuff, dragged the young soldier out of the alien shuttle.

Sunlight revealed three pinprick-sized holes passing right through the Decker's chestplate into three large lumps in the back, blood dribbling down his front. After safetying his shotgun and tossing it aside, Massani pulled Decker's biofoam canister off his side and jammed a nozzle into what was left of his armor. "Fuck, hang on kid." The hole atop his lung was first. "Vido," ordered the commander, "cut those two in the first row down and blow the rest of these fucks to hell," as white foam poured in. The next wound was attended to in an agonizingly slow six seconds later. "This is Lucky Strike Actual," Massani called out as the foam filled a second hole, "we have two packages," and moved onto the third, "and a wounded. Need an on-site extraction."

His radio crackled to life. "Lucky Strike, this is Hotbox, read you loud and clear. Bootsies and I are about sixty seconds away. Prep your 'hogs for retrieval."

Massani finished the final pour of biofoam as his charge began flailing. "Roger." Massani moved to quickly restrain him. "Decker, you're going to be fine. Depolarize." Zaeed's visor quickly turned transparent. "Decker, look at me. You're going to be fine. Just some shock."

"It hurts, sir," the younger soldier wheezed.

"Nothing the docs can't patch up." The commander looked up to see Horsham and Santiago dragging a pair of restrained aliens over to the Warthogs. "Don't forget to leave some grenades in there," the commander gestured to the downed craft before looking down. "Kid, stop moving. That's an order. You've got foam in you. You're fine."

The young soldier tried one last time to lift his head up. "My legs aren't moving, sir," he cried.

"Lay the fuck down, kid," Commander Massani pushed Decker's shoulders down into the ground, "or this foam'll get dislodged. Medics are almost here."

"Sir," came the faint acknowledgment.

Explosions rippled through the invaders' shuttle craft as a pile of fragmentation grenades explored the inside of the ship.

Behind Zaeed, the comforting hum of descending Pelican dropships could be heard. "Train has arrived, Lucky Strike," one pilot put into the radio.

"Roger," Zaeed craned his head around around and saw the familiar lines of his team's ticket back to ONI's TEMPLE base descending. The twin bubble canopy at the front left his view as it rotated during its descent on its four vertical thrusters. The side of the Pelican, besides demonstrating its girth, had a picture of a lit match atop a box and dozens of covenant faces- one for each completed mission. "Hotbox," Massani instinctively yelled over the roar of the Pelican's engines, "do you have a medic in back?" Finally, as the Pelican finished rotating, its cavernous backside opened up to reveal six empty seats, piles of supplies, and three marines- one with a red cross across her arm standing, right arm holding onto a grip.

"Sure do, Lucky Strike. Bring your wounded onboard."

Commander Massani turned back to Sergeant Decker. "Almost home safe, kid." The commander grabbed hold of Decker's shoulder straps again. "Ready?"

"Ready," the Sergeant wheezed. It was another brisk thirty meters to the back of the Pelican. By the time the pair made it over, the medic was waiting to help move the wounded soldier in the back. The commander and medic pulled Decker up to the wide, flat floor of the floating dropship.

Inside, active noise cancellation kept engine noise down to a whisper. "Thanks, sarge'," Zaeed nodded to the medic as he turned around to see Vido walking towards him.

"Forgot this," the Lieutenant motioned to the spare shotgun in his hand before tossing it up to Zaeed.

"Never leave home without it." He reflexively clamped the gun to his backside. "Packages are on the other Pelican?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Bring the 'hogs 'round. Let's get out of this swamp hole and back to base. Job well done." Zaeed turned back to the First Sergeant and another soldier leaning over the injured Decker, his helmet now removed, eyes closed, and small trail of blood trickling down his mouth. "How is he, 'doc?"

The medic put down her scanner and looked up. "His lungs and digestive system are all kinds of fucked up, but his heart is fine. Two shattered ribs up front, tee-seven and eight shattered in back. Bullet fragments all over the place. If we can get him to a flash-cloner soon, he'll be fine." She turned to the soldier behind her. "Carroll! Pull those breathing tubes down!"

Zaeed gave one last glance at a now-unconscious Decker before jumping down to a now-docked Warthog, then to the ground, quickly walking over the other Pelican, and climbing aboard into the seat on the right closest to the rear door, trusty battle rifle in hand. His remaining team was strapped in along with three bird aliens and a warthog in the back. "Lucky Strike Actual, we're all clear for launch here."

"Roger Lucky Strike, Bootsies is green."

"Hotbox is green and taking off."

Commander Zaeed Massani finally took a good look at his foe as his ship started lifting off. Their armor was a utilitarian gray with red lights, some flickering where shrapnel impacted. It was shockingly reminiscent of Covenant armor. The creatures had three fingers on each arm, thankfully handcuffed to hardlight mounts, two toes on each bird leg, and curiously-thin torsos. Their helmets were polarized save for the one in the center where the grenade caved in its chest. What was revealed was an alien as ugly as any jackal. Its face was a cornucopia of mandibles with sharp, carnivorous teeth and deep-set eyes. He announced his conclusions to his team, "ugliest chicken I've ever seen," and was rewarded with a few chuckles.

Horsham followed up with the obvious question eating at the rest of the team. "How's Decker?".

"Nothin' the docs at base can't patch up," Zaeed comforted. "He'll be back to getting shot at alongside us in no time."

He took a deep breath before turning to look out of the Pelican's rear, past the attached Warthog, and down onto the alien dropship and the shattered jungle around it. A fire was now raging inside of the vessel, smoke pouring out of the craft. Zaeed instinctively cradled his time-tested BR85-HB service rifle as the flames below mesmerized him. His dropship rose and rose as the alien vessel became ever more obscured until only a colonnade of dark gray smoke was visible.

Zee elbowed Massani, knocking the Commander out of his stupor. "First contact, huh sir," he asked with a quiver of fear.

Zaeed looked back at the aliens on anchored to the blood tray of his Pelican. "You see that right there, Corporal?" His right arm pulled his battle rifle closer as he pointed with his left at the creature with the savaged chestplate. "These bird-brained sons of bitches chose the wrong fuckin' species to fuck with. Remember that."

"Ooh-rah!"

The Commander responded with an "ooh-rah" of his own. Casualties from the first battle of Harvest were wildly one-sided. 'Maybe we'll get lucky,' Massani sarcastically thought. His own derisive snort and a half-hearted smirk were his joke's only acknowledgments. He looked back out as the Pelican accelerated away from the landing zone, the reds and blues from Shanxi's equatorial jungle canopy whizzing by faster and faster.

Author's note:

We're back! Thanks for both the kind words and constructive criticism. This was my first time ever writing ground combat so it was a little tougher than I thought it'd be. As always, constructive criticism is welcome. Unfortunately, I don't have a proofreader but I'm hoping nothing too egregious slipped past.

There's a niche but growing field that sits at the cross-section of physics, astrophysics, chemistry, and biology called Astrobiology. From "The Astrobiology Primer" by Domgall-Goldman, Wright, et al, "Astrobiology is the science that seeks to understand the story of life in our universe. Astrobiology includes investigation of the conditions that are necessary for life to emerge and flourish, the origin of life, the ways that life has evolved and adapted to the wide range of environmental conditions here on Earth, the search for life beyond Earth, the habitability of extraterrestrial environments, and consideration of the future of life here on Earth and elsewhere." With our first example of an alien invasion (Turians) happening on an alien planet (Shanxi) populated by other alien lifeforms (Humans, human-affiliates), this seems like the perfect author's note to introduce the field.

Astute readers may have noticed mention of Shanxi's large, blue sun and the indigenous Red Palm. Hypothetically, how would plant life react- evolutionarily- to orbiting a star with wildly different characteristics from our home sun? What evolutionary traits would it pick up? Would Chlorophyll be the dominant mechanism for producing energy or would some other, as-of-yet undiscovered compound dominate?

Most of the inspiration came from NASA JPL's travel posters (they're beautiful), specifically the Kepler 186f one. Kepler 186f is the first potentially habitable, i.e. earth-like, world ever found (see: An Earth-sized Planet in the Habitable Zone of a Cool Star by Quintana et al; arxiv 1404.5667). Kepler 186f, specifically, orbits a red dwarf- a very cool, stable star with low luminosity.

For those interested in learning more, I would recommend The Astrobiology Primer v2.0 (doi: 10.1089/ast.2015.1460) as a starting point. It's an online summary of the field and an excellent primer to dive into further work but written by scientists with citations for non-scientists.

Responses to questions:
Some of the reviews have pointed out that the story is going in a similar path to other stories. Let's be honest with ourselves here: if we didn't want something derivative, we wouldn't be reading fanfiction. We're interested in a comfortable, light read with familiar and safe characters in a setting we didn't want to have to think about too much- and that's okay! Don't worry; there are twists and the foreshadowing has already started happening.

- Prometheus-G747: "Seriously. You have gotta check out the book saga starting with 'The Lost Fleet: Dauntless.'" Thanks for the recommendation! Read them all upon your suggestion and it was exactly what I was looking for.

- jawswhite7: "[Halo Warfleet recommendation; references to Halo warship specific impulse]." Thanks! Picked it up and it was indeed super-useful! Unfortunately, I've written what I've written and I don't think my ship speeds quite line up with cannon, but it's within an order of magnitude.

- Danen5: "Have you been to Kiribati, in particular Aranuka? Also, did you also take English lit?" I have never been there, but I try to do a lot of research before I start typing a story so that it's as believable as possible. That you're asking means I'm doing a good job. For example, Aranuka was mentioned as the site of an orbital space elevator in Legacy of Onyx and was the closest location to Sydney, Australia, so it seemed like a logical place to go up (traveling in-atmosphere is much more slow and costly than the frictionless vacuum of space). I checked out the Kiribati's tourism scene, Google Maps, and prior censuses for population levels of various islands under Kiribati's purview, though all of that content was cut in a later revision. On a related note, I also now want to go on vacation there. As for english lit, I've never taken a serious formal writing course and this is the only thing I've ever published online, though I read a good amount.