Hey, guys. This is Jersey here; I can't take your call at the moment, so just leave me a message and I'll be right back as soon as possible. Yeah, Durga, that means you too. I'm probably out getting shot at... uh, yeah. Message after the beep.

*beep*

((Contact post; please state IC or OOC.))

...they're retreating.
They've left Earth. We saw the ships vanish.

I... god. I can't believe it. None of us can.
Allies are still here, but that's all.

I know, I know, it's too early to say 'we've won', they might just be going to regroup and I shouldn't say anything until ... but damn. It's still something.

(Things have been too good to be true, lately. I keep pinching myself to see if I'm awake.)

The atrocity we plan, the last resort:
I pray that it doesn't come to that.
-unknown author

--

There were lights in the sky that night. Not that there weren't always, distant fire, explosions...
But streams that criss-crossed the heavens, blinding and blue, making it possible to see as well as if it were day - those weren't so typical.

Soldiers of all species gathered outside, watching the show, trying to identify its cause. Some way away from the main crowd, Jersey leant back against his Sentinel's wing, gazing on with a lump in his chest. Not awe but fear. Easy for everyone else - they didn't have a clue about what he'd seen.

"...this isn't it?" he asked quietly. "You know. The Halos. Everything."
"Negative. Phenomenon observed is not related to activation of Flood defense network. You will know."
The last part flew over his head as he let out a sigh of relief. "...thank god. I just thought..."
"Please clarify concept of 'thank god', Reclaimer."
"Never mind." A smile drifted onto his face, and he headed over to join the rest of the watchers.

Well, THAT was ... yeah, I can't even make jokes about it.
Whoa.
Master Chief.
It's not like I don't know Spartans, hi you two if you're reading this. But this was different. It was like he was about as human as the Elites... scary guy. Really scary. But...
He saved my life, so I can't complain there.

Debriefing afterwards, let him know the whole deal with me and the rest of the guys who got through the Ark, 'cause I'd started talking at my buddy in Forerunner and he recognised it. He wanted to know *everything* off us. And I told him it all. Even what the best things in the food synths are, but I think he wasn't really listening. He's a Reclaimer himself; he's probably a helluva lot better at it than me.
...I think he's on a mission. Good luck to him.

But ANYWAY! Enough of that.
We took down the weapons plant. The ones of us who made it were lucky as anything... damn.
At least the Elites told us what we were looking for. There's these Engineer guys I didn't know about - had to be told to ignore them. They don't want to hurt us, just to fix stuff, but if we'd shot them they'd have made things even worse. It really helps having inside knowledge, you know?
I dunno... I could get used to this - arrangement.
I'm starting to think a few more of us could, too.

Maybe this wasn't the hardest fight he'd ever been in. That award would have to go to the Ark escape. But being on the squad taking down a Covenant superweapon plant... that had to rank pretty highly.
Not just humans, here. The group was split down the middle - he'd never thought he'd actually be glad to have Elites around. He'd heard them talking; even they seemed surprised at what the place was. "Hypocrites," one of them had said. "They'd rather alter human technology than our own. Probably still scared the gods will strike them down for it." He had no idea what the alien had meant by that, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

As it was, there was no time to think about the issue. A Brute, tall and shaggy-furred, armour obviously new, was charging towards him. Battle rifle blasts didn't seem to be doing a lot except enraging his opponent further. For a second, he was sure he was dead.

Not quite. There was a second shadow falling over him, now. Not quite as tall as the one the Brute left; but tall enough. Around him, he could hear his squadmates yelling in surprise that the rumours were true, the defectors calling out "The Demon is here!" in turn -
and shields glowing in golden light, armour that was once green but now faded and burnt flashing forwards, the blue of an energy sword shining. The Brute roared and fell to the floor.

"...daaamn."

I can't believe it. *He* saved me.

"Get down, private!" the new arrival yelled. He knew that voice, but he didn't have to. "There's a target..."
"Master Chief, uh, sir, I - it's on our side! [Don't shoot him!]," he called back - firstly to the Spartan himself, his voice turning a little weak, then to the Sentinel who'd just joined them.
"They're not on our side." The Chief's head tilted for a moment. Jersey had the impression he was being stared out, visor or no visor.
"Uh, maybe, but if it wanted to kill us we'd kinda be dead by now. And they hate the Covies too, the old ones. ...Chief?"
The Spartan paused, gave the tiniest nod, and moved on.

There was work to be done.

These were strange days. Where the enemy was not only at the gate, but inside it, watching everything with an air of disdain...
As a rule, they all kept their distance from one another. Ex-Covenant members sticking together, and humans sticking with humans. Understandable, really.
Still, there were a few who at least made the effort to be - polite and respectful if nothing else. Attempts at conversation, at looking at each other and realising that these were no longer the problem they had to face. All the same - for every pair of potential squadmates who'd (for example) discuss the artistic merits of human versus Sangheili music civilly, in an attempt to build bridges, there were another five who would find themselves in their respective medical facilities (with the human far worse off).
The line into outright 'friendly' had yet to be fully crossed. It felt like it would be a long time.

--

Oh crap.
The big thing they're building? Weapons factory. Something like that, anyway - equipment. They've taken over a whole bunch of our supply lines, and they're funnelling everything into their own work. That's what the Elites are saying, anyway - it's kinda the reason they set up here, I think. Overheard them talking, and as far as I can tell? They seem pretty sincere. (I'm trying to see if I can pick up any of the actual language from the basic stuff intel hacked together; some of it's kinda similar to the stuff I know. Which is... kinda weird, but explains why they like it so much.) We're getting words through as to why they bailed on the Covenant in the first place; something happened that really hacked off their leaders, or something. Someone said something about they'd been betrayed?

I just hope -

*yelling*

-damngottagowillfinishthislaterkay?

...it's true.
We got official word through a couple of days ago, and had a few Elites and Grunts (came with them) set up near us yesterday. They're not wearing Covie colours any more. I don't recognise the armour at all. There's a few who even came into our camp, kind of as a peace deal - couple of our guys have gone over to theirs. Damn, I don't envy them. This is just argh and wrong...
At least they seem to be as shaken up as we are, as far as the body language means anything with them. No-one's made the mistake of actually calling the Elites anything to their faces yet. These guys are eight foot tall and you'd need to be a Spartan to not be killed fighting one hand to hand. (The Grunts, however, seem to be fair game.)
Noticed my buddy seems to have started flying closer to me again.

No word on the whateveritis they're building. We'd better find out soon; it's ...starting to get a bit scary.

Okay. Someone's got to be kidding us, now. I mean, things just don't work like that! It's just - guh, wrong!

'Cause from what I'm hearing?

The Elites are on our side now. That's just. Freaky. I can't think of the words to describe it. Why, what, how is that even going to work? They hate us! Hello, trying to blow the place up?

...Though it's not like I've seen any of them in battle for absolutely ages. It's just been the big guys, the Brutes, leading everything. Everyone else is still around, sure; but they'd vanished some time ago. I never thought it could be that.
I don't think anyone did.

But from good news to bad. I've seen a lot more ships dropping in lately. ...Covie ships. They're doing something and I don't know what. This? Is not good. Unless they're Elite transports... but I don't think so. That'd be too much good news for one day.

It'd been a good day. No fighting, at least, none for him. The cake had vanished as soon as been looked at, the games had yet to come out of their cases, but he'd looked them over and over smiling.
But there were some things that needed taking care of.

"Hey, Durga?" Jersey whispered down the chatter line, everything else quiet. No need to dial numbers, really; she always seemed to know. "You there?"
"Where else?" her voice responded.
"Yeah, yeah. Okay. You know I've got that Sentinel playing bodyguard, right?"
She laughed faintly. "I noticed."
"About that. You, uh, didn't have anything to do with it, did you? You're not checking up on me?"
"Jersey, if I wanted to check up on you, I wouldn't need a Sentinel."
"Riiight." Any transmission she liked, he knew, she'd read - it was just courtesy she stayed away from his private messages. Or at least didn't tell him about them. "But the having anything to do with it part?"
"I haven't communicated with it, transmitted anything to it - I don't even understand how their code works. It's nothing to do with me."
"Uh... huh." He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or worried. At least it wasn't her fault - but if not, why was it still there?
"You thought I'd..." More laughter.
Jersey ran his hand down his face. "So, how're you doing?" he started, trying to change the subject, but his enthusiasm fading as the words came out of his mouth. "...Anything happening?"
"Strange ...dreams. Pictures of irises, countdowns, and strange messages. I can't make any sense of them. But that's all. It's nothing worse than I've had in the past."
"That's ...good then. I guess. Although that countdown..."
"You worry too much."
"I'm not having you go crazy on me."
"I'm not going crazy on you."
"...Yeah."

...damn, it's been ages since I've got anything out.
Okay. Things are kinda the same as they ever were, except... The rations are getting a bit low at times, supplies don't always come through. Geez, I'm sneaking into the Nexus to get something to eat at times, I must be crazy. (Yes, I KNOW; but I'm pretty good at setting the PINpoint to get me back the second I've left, so I'm technically not away from there for any length of time, am I?)

I'm not hearing much news about what's happening in the outside world. Just rumours. There's even some crazy story that there's a Spartan hanging around, kicking ass, but... I don't know. It sounds like the kind of thing they'd tell us to boost morale.

Solved the problem with my flying buddy, kinda. It's still giving me the 'must protect' routine, but me and a couple of the guys (who are just as WTF about it as I am, they're cool, though) convinced it that by hanging around me, it was saying 'hey important target here' and that that's not good. So it tends to keep its distance now.
I'm still trying to work out why it's there.

Getting messages from Durga sometimes, but the chatter lines have gone to hell so not as many as I used to. I'm not sure what she's up to. She seems to be doing okay, though. Not gone... the R word... yet.

Also, I turned nineteen a few days ago. Got a load of joke presents off people here (mostly putting bows on wrenches and stuff like that, ha ha Sentinel guy), and I guess that's all I can really expect. Biggest one's just that I've survived until then.