Beep! Beep! Beep!
Inside the towering United Nations Space Command (UNSC) base, alarms blared abruptly.
"Attention, all personnel prepare for Level 2 alert. The Second and Third Command Headquarters Defense Battalions, all armed personnel, assemble at Hangar Bay 7." The mechanical voice of the electronic broadcast repeated continuously.
Suddenly, the repetitive mechanical broadcast was manually interrupted and switched to a live transmission: "This is the Supreme Fleet Command Headquarters of Reach. I am UNSC Admiral Parangosky."
"Spartan Operations Unit Silver Team has completed the mission of negotiating on Arcadia and is returning. During the mission, they captured a large number of live Covenant prisoners. Therefore, the Fleet Command Headquarters orders you to secure them upon arrival. To eliminate any potential risks upon the ship's landing, the use of lethal force is authorized."
Walking down the long corridor of the command tower, Dr. Halsey heard Admiral Parangosky's announcement, a flicker of subtle disdain flashing through her eyes before vanishing quickly.
Parangosky's wording perfectly embodied the traits of bureaucratic politicians—deflecting and downplaying, casually shifting the credit for this 'militia's' spoils onto the Spartans.
Halsey was well aware of her intentions—seizing credit to embellish her own record.
While the Master Chief and Silver Team technically fell under Spartan Operations, which Halsey directly oversaw, Parangosky was still a superior authority.
Labeling this as the achievement of a 'militia' would leave Parangosky with nothing to gain, but rebranding it as a Spartan victory—well, under her brilliant leadership, she could still claim some share of the prestige.
Earlier, in Nathaniel's video communication, he had explicitly mentioned a 'gift'—the spoils of war. Capturing Grunts and Jackals was one thing, but they had even secured a Brute. No wonder Parangosky was intrigued.
After all, in the ongoing war against the Covenant, the Elites and Brutes had inflicted immense suffering on humanity.
"General, with all due respect, your plan to take them over isn't realistic."
Following behind Parangosky, Halsey carefully chose her words. "Let me speak with them. I'll find out their origins. John has fought alongside them, and they have some level of rapport. I assure you, nothing will go wrong—"
Parangosky cut her off without even turning around.
"Catherine, we highly value your intelligence, but you must use it legally and appropriately, not abuse it. This time, you engaged with an unidentified force without informing me in advance. Furthermore, why did my central control console not receive the real-time combat logs from Spartan-117? You deliberately withheld this information."
As she spoke, Parangosky stopped in her tracks, turned around, and fixed Halsey with an emotionless stare, her voice cold: "Don't assume that without you, Spartan Operations and the UNSC cannot function."
"I've given you too much power, Doctor. Don't make me regret it."
With that, Parangosky shot one last icy glance at Halsey before continuing towards Hangar Bay 7.
"Move! Move!"
As the broadcast continued, the base erupted into a flurry of activity.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
"Get moving! Quickly! Move out!"
A UNSC Defense Force officer, freshly suited in combat armor and mechanical exoskeleton, grabbed a compact, mid-length command-issue ballistic rifle and scanned the assembled troops, all geared up. He then shouted, "Go!"
It was still nighttime. Under the dark sky, a flood of personnel streamed down a runway stretching several hundred meters from the compound hangar. The clean and expansive hangar bay reflected the faint neon hues of the distant cityscape.
Aside from the tight security, with UNSC Defense Force troops replacing celebrities, journalists, and media personnel, the only thing missing was a red carpet.
"General, they have arrived."
As Admiral Parangosky and Dr. Halsey arrived together to receive the incoming personnel, the UNSC Defense Force troops preparing for reception cleared a path, and an officer reported.
"Be ready. If anything seems off, shoot to kill without hesitation," Parangosky ordered coldly.
"Yes, ma'am!"
Vroom—!
As a UNSC spaceborne craft from the planetary orbital defense platform roared overhead, a distinct gust of wind, different from standard UNSC equipment, swept through.
For seasoned veterans, distinguishing between friendly and enemy engine noises was not difficult.
The air grew hot, filled with an acrid stench. Halsey looked up to see two massive iron-gray "bricks" roaring overhead.
They were large and imposing, vastly different from the sleek aerospace fighters used by the UNSC Navy and Air Force. Their design prioritized brute force over aerodynamics, featuring a blocky, angular structure, with broad wings swept backward and fiery orange-blue exhaust trails bursting from their engines.
Their iron-gray bodies bore golden and silver accents. On either side, emblazoned beneath the outstretched wings of a golden double-headed eagle, was the Roman numeral "Ⅱ."
The Thunderhawk gunship—a multipurpose craft combining orbital drop capability, gunship support, and light bombing—enabled the Astartes strike forces to launch rapid deep strikes from Imperial Navy vessels anywhere needed.
Though it wasn't specialized in any single role, falling short of dedicated large drop ships, assault craft, and transporters in deployment capability, lacking the firepower of dedicated tactical support gunships, and vastly inferior to Navy warships in bombardment ability, its versatility made it a favorite among frontline Imperial warriors.
Boom—
The engine roar gradually subsided.
Under the guidance of the hangar deck crew, the two Thunderhawk gunships, marked with the insignia of the Imperial Astartes 2nd Legion "Punishers," lowered altitude, adjusted their alignment swiftly, deployed landing gear, and finally touched down steadily on the hangar deck.
Hiss—
As the hatch at the bow of the lead ship opened, a voice rang out: "Dr. Halsey, General, Silver Team requests permission to rejoin."
The first to disembark were four Spartan warriors: Master Chief 117, Spartan 134, Spartan 028, and Spartan 125.
"Welcome back, John," Halsey greeted with a nod and a smile.
Addressing Halsey before the general was technically a breach of protocol given their respective ranks, but Parangosky merely observed the internal dynamics of the Spartan Operations division with a cold gaze.
Then—
Thud! Thud! Thud!
As the synchronized marching of an Astartes squad thundered across the hangar deck—
Gulp—
UNSC Defense Force troops, clutching their weapons tightly, found their throats dry. The sound of rounds chambering echoed in succession. Were these truly humans, or were they monsters?
Towering figures loomed over them, standing more than half a body's height taller than regular troops. The overwhelming stench of blood accompanied their presence. Cold skull-faced helmets, with glowing crimson visors, swept over the soldiers, instilling a deep and primal fear.
If Spartans were already inhuman enough, then whatever Dr. Halsey had created next was even more terrifying.
"Stand ready!" a UNSC officer shouted.
Halsey, however, stood transfixed, gazing in awe at the massive azure giants stepping off the Thunderhawk gunships. She murmured in genuine admiration, "What beautiful creations."
Remote communication could never compare to the impact of face-to-face contact.
"They..."
Parangosky quickly averted her gaze and locked onto Halsey. "Halsey, you never told me they were bio-engineered super-soldiers. And how can they be? What exactly have you been hiding from us all these years?"
Only now did Parangosky truly see the Astartes warriors for what they were.
Nathaniel had indeed sent a video transmission earlier, but with no reference for scale, and their environment clearly tailored to their massive size, she had not realized that this so-called "militia" consisted of bio-enhanced warriors!
Their sheer size made it evident that their bulk wasn't just from powered armor—it was their actual bodies.
Damn it!
You're telling me this is a militia? What kind of militia has better equipment than the central government's military?!
With limited intelligence to form a clear judgment, combined with Halsey's long history of questionable actions and the obvious rapport these unknown super-soldiers had with her, Parangosky instinctively directed her suspicions toward the scientist.
Was this your doing?
Then, with the sound of heavy footsteps, a towering figure descended from the Thunderhawk's ramp—his ornate azure power armor gleamed, though he wore no helmet. His very presence radiated an aura of death.
For a moment, it seemed as if the temperature around them had dropped several degrees. Was it an illusion, or something more?
"Infrastructure is adequate… but a bit underwhelming," Nathaniel remarked as he strode down the ramp, completely at ease, showing no signs of tension despite standing in the heart of enemy territory. It was as if he were returning home.
This was a vast plaza, surrounded by the beauty of a garden city, yet filled with hundreds of armed personnel and several weaponized armored vehicles. Most of the soldiers wore light exoskeletal armor, clearly standard infantry.
Among them, aside from the familiar figure of Dr. Halsey in her white lab coat, stood a middle-aged woman bearing four stars on her uniform.
Clearly a high-ranking officer, but…
Nathaniel paid no heed to the increasingly grim-faced older woman. Instead, he stepped forward to stand before Dr. Halsey, who still held a remarkable presence despite her age.
He even stood at attention, bowing slightly in an elegant and noble manner. "Dr. Halsey, this would be our first in-person meeting, wouldn't it?"
Snap!
Then, standing upright, Nathaniel snapped his fingers.
The Night Lords warriors instantly understood. Alongside their comrades from the second Thunderhawk, they began unloading heavy cages one by one.
"Grrr..."
The cages were large and transparent, allowing everyone present a clear view of their contents: first, Grunts and Jackals, then Drones, and finally—
"Roar!"
The entire assembly erupted, waves of shock spreading through the crowd as murmurs and exclamations filled the air.
One could only imagine the expressions of those watching from surveillance monitors.
"Brutes..." Halsey's gaze moved past the bloodied Brute infantry and settled on the final, solitary cage. "And a high-ranking Brute!"
Humanity had yet to decipher the Covenant's language, nor did they fully understand what the aliens wanted, where they came from, or how to defeat them. However, years of war had granted significant insights into their military forces, particularly the Elites and the Brutes.
Take the Brutes, for example. They had fur ranging from brownish-yellow to gray. This appeared to be an age indicator, as lower-ranking Brutes were brownish-yellow, while Brute bodyguards and high-ranking captains bore gray fur.
The Brute before them had thick gray skin covered with dull gray-white fur. Remnants of violently torn armor were still embedded in its bloody flesh, with traces of lake-blue plating.
From this, Halsey deduced that this was a Brute Captain Ultra.
"That's right. They are my gift of goodwill for our negotiations." Nathaniel patted the cage before turning his gaze toward Parangosky.
"Madam, do you find our sincerity acceptable?"
Being a seasoned officer, Parangosky quickly adjusted her demeanor, even taking the lead in asserting her authority. "Call me General, or Admiral Parangosky. Here, aside from technicians—" she cast a sidelong glance at Halsey, "—everyone is a soldier."
"Oh?" Nathaniel looked down at her, pausing in mild surprise.
Just as he was about to respond—
"Damn you, human! I am a warrior, not a commodity! Fight me one-on-one if you dare!"
"Human, where are the Sangheili?! Why have you taken only us from your stronghold? They must have betrayed the Covenant! They have forsaken their faith! They are traitors!"
The Brute roared furiously. "Cowards! The Prophets will not forgive them!"
"Roar! Roar! Roar!"
"Apologies, one moment...."
Boom!
A massive steel-clad fist whistled through the air, landing with a thunderous impact. The reinforced cage shattered instantly under the immense force, exploding into scattered fragments!
The once-raging Brute Captain Ultra was lifted off its feet, its nine-foot frame slammed deep into hardened steel plating with an earth-shaking crash. A shockwave burst outward in all directions.
Splurt!
Blood and chunks of flesh exploded on impact, the Brute's guttural roar abruptly silenced.
"A duel? You, an alien piece of trash, are not even worth considering."
Nathaniel brushed off the disgusting splatter of blood on his arm in disgust. "You should be grateful you were presented as a gift. Otherwise, I would have ensured you found neither life nor death desirable. Bring a medic—don't let it die."
With that task finished, Nathaniel turned back to the gathering, his voice soft and calm. "Our mistake—apologies for the disturbance."
His rapid shift in demeanor left both Halsey and Parangosky momentarily stunned. Seeing his pale face still adorned with that faint, serene smile felt almost surreal.
Step—
Realizing what had just transpired, everyone instinctively took a step back.
Too fast. Their eyes hadn't even registered his movement!
"Oh, where were we? Let's continue. We mustn't let alien scum ruin the mood."
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