<strong><em>Onboard UNSC Capital Ship Hercules<br/>Location: Earth's Lower Atmosphere <br/><br/>2 hours from mission briefing</em></strong><br/><br/><em>The ship floated silently amidst the grey white clouds in Earth's lower atmosphere, the longsword fighters flying in their patrol routes like an army of bees protecting their hive. The thrum of their powerful turbines making the air shake with their own thunder. Admiral Bane looked out his viewport and sighed, it had been a long, bloody, and costly war. The Covenant had glassed the outer rim worlds like Harvest before making their way in system. Very little had been able to slow them down but, they had won a few essential battles. The loss of Reach had been the breaking point for most of the civilians and a few of the military personnel. Even the military brass felt the affects of Reach, though they were never allowed to show it publicly. They had to keep up moral. It seemed for awhile that the Covenant wouldn't find Earth, that the Cole Protocol had actually exceeded expectations in keeping their last world secret from the the butchers of the Covenant and their holy war. Then they found it anyway.<br/><br/>They hadn't come in force and it was generally agreed upon that the Covenant had just stumbled into the sector. The UNSC had quickly destroyed the Covenant ship, though they still retained heavy casualties. In the blink of an eye they'd lost two Orbiting MAC Gun Stations to Covenant bombs, and had it not been for Sierra 117, or Master Chief, and Cortana, they surely would've lost a third. Then before they could destroy a lone Covenant Cruiser that had been hovering over New Mombasa, it jumped, taking Captain Keyes ship along with Sierra 117 and Cortana along with it. That was when they picked up another ship on the far side of the moon, heading straight for New York City.<br/><br/>Admiral Bane had been ordered to muster the remaining troops and followed them, find out what they were after and stop them at whatever cost. That was exactly what he planned to do. "Anything yet lieutenant?" He asked the tactical ops officer, when he confirmed in the negative Bane simply rubbed his chin and mutered "Why are they just sitting there? Are they a diversion?" He knew his crew were wondering the same thing and he planned to give them the answers they sought.<br/><br/>"Well, while they're making themselves at home, we might as well take advantage of this little dry spell. Get the marines, ODST's and Spartans to the briefing room now" Admiral Bane flipped a pocket open and brought out a cigar and lighter "We're going duck hunting"</em><br/><br/><strong><em>Location: Hallway, on section E 12</em></strong><br/><br/>A spartan walked the halls in blue armor, the emblem of a black Gladiator's helmet with a gold background on his shoulder and chest, his own helmet held the gold V shaped visor of a scout. He was a sniper, and one of the best around. He'd came to be known as simply "Gladiator", due to his proficiency in killing Covenant, both from a distance, shooting them specifically in the head, and in melee combat. He was part of the third series of Spartans. Ofcourse he'd always added in his serial number when reporting for duty. He was the strong silent type. Right now, he had no duties to attend to so he simply stalked the halls, keeping himself alert and ready. He'd already memorized the layout of the Hercules but, felt that actually walking the length and breadth of it would do him some good in the down time. He'd been on countless missions against the Covenant. Before Reach had been glassed he'd been on Harvest fighting for the lives of every man, woman and child on the planet in the hopes that they could slow the Covenant down and let innocents escape. They'd succeeded in a sense. Whereas millions could have been glassed and wiped from the face of the universe, they'd survived but, thousands of others still lost their lives. There had been no time for remorse though, they'd had to escape the planet themselves, and retreat to fight another day. Then when Reach had been attacked he'd been assigned to a ship that was to reinforce the thousands fighting there.<br/><br/>A soft bump broke him from his reverie and Gladiator looked up to find himself faceplate to faceplate with another Spartan, a female judging from her stance. Realizing he'd bumped into her and that he was now outside the galley he stepped back and said in his rich deep voice "Sorry, I'm a little distracted" before giving her the sign of a smile, his index and middle finger splaying out to point out eyes on his faceplate, before drawing a curving line to indicate a smiling mouth. It was the closest thing to an emotional outburst that a Spartan displayed usually. Even a simple handshake could be dangerous to a normal Human, so most of them were extremely reserved about physical contact with anybody. Given the circumstances involved in a Spartan's development, most people understood why.<br/><br/>"Excuse me" Gladiator said gently before moving past her and into the galley.