NOVEL NEXT 10-Battle of Naboo, Part 5
Spartan-II Arnet-096, standing on the bridge of his imposing Infinity-class supercarrier, watched the massive deployment of Covenant forces through the wide viewports. In front of him, the silhouettes of the massive enemy ships lined up, forming an ominous barrier in the vacuum of space.
“Admiral,” one of the officers announced from his console, addressing the Spartan firmly. “We detect a group of 34 Covenant ships. The formation includes 10 CAS-class Assault Carriers, 15 CCS-class Battlecruisers, and multiple CPV-class Heavy Destroyers.”
The combat alarm echoed throughout the supercarrier as red emergency lights flashed on the bridge. The UNSC fleet, comprised of the Infinity, three Phoenix-class Colonial Ships, ten Paris-class Heavy Frigates, and six Autumn-class Heavy Cruisers, began to move in perfect synchronization. Arnet knew they couldn't afford to fail. The Republic and Naboo depended on them.
"Prepare to open fire with MAC cannons as soon as we get the CAS in our sights!" Arnet ordered, his voice firm and calculated. "No Covenant fighters are to come close to our lines. I want all anti-matter turrets firing on smaller ships. Don't let them surround us!"
He watched as dozens of Covenant fighters emerged, launching themselves toward the UNSC fleet like swarms of deadly insects. "Deploy squadrons of Longsword and Broadsword fighters immediately. I want a wall of fire to protect our capital ships!"
The space was soon filled with explosions of color and flashes of laser fire, marking the start of a fierce aerial battle. Meanwhile, on the bridge, the Spartan kept his gaze fixed on the Covenant deployments.
“Sir, they are launching dropships towards the planet’s surface,” the tactical officer reported. “Hundreds of transport ships are descending towards Naboo.”
“Impossible to allow them to land.” Arnet turned to the communications officers. “I want all ODST teams ready to launch on the surface right now! Secure the combat zones and halt any enemy advance on land. And deploy squadrons of Spartan II and III! This planet will not fall under Covenant control as long as we have a say in it.”
The massive MAC cannon batteries lined up above the Infinity supercarrier, accurately targeting the Covenant assault carriers and battlecruisers. With stunning brutality, the massive weapons ignited, sending high-density shells tearing through the enemy destroyers’ defenses. However, the Covenant responded with relentless resistance. Their ships' shields were robust, and while the MACs' impact was devastating, it took several concentrated shots to take down a single ship.
The battle was brutal and chaotic; the UNSC fleet maneuvered in a precise, military-like manner, not allowing desperation or panic to affect their performance.
The tension in the bowels of the Infinity was palpable as the soldiers prepared for a brutal battle in space and on the surface of Naboo. On the ODST deployment decks, the elite men and women checked their weapons, adjusted their armor, and shared determined looks. Their faces reflected experience and the certainty that they were about to make history, even if it came at a high price.
"First feet in hell," one of the veterans muttered, extending his fist toward his comrades. The others high-fived him with defiant grins, repeating the motto with a mix of respect and suppressed fury.
ODST commandos darted from one side of the hangar to the other, shouting orders amid the din of drop pods being secured in their launch bays. Finally, a clear, authoritative voice came over the hangar speakers:
"All pods ready. ODSTs, in position. Five seconds to launch."
The soldiers exchanged knowing glances and nerves of steel. They adjusted their helmets, feeling the familiar hum of systems come to life. In a final gesture of camaraderie, the men and women in the pods fist-bumped across the open compartments.
“See you on the surface,” one said with a defiant grin.
“Burning skies and the Covenant on the run,” his partner replied, clenching his fist. With one last breath, they all looked ahead. The hatches sealed, and in a flurry of fire and metal, the ODST pods were ejected in a series of incandescent flashes. The Drop Pods descended, streaking through Naboo’s atmosphere like meteors impacting with deadly force on the surface, the Covenant barely noticing the approaching storm.
In the Infinity's fighter hangar, activity was just as intense. Pilots checked their suits and equipment, making sure every little detail was in place. Engineers walked along the rows of Longswords and Broadswords, making last-minute checks, as lights signaled that everything was ready for deployment.
"Silver Squadron, to your fighters!" The commander's voice echoed through the hangar.
One of the pilots, a veteran of several campaigns, stopped and looked at his fellow pilots. "You know something, guys? The Covenant has always believed that they are indestructible." Around them, the other pilots smiled and nodded.
"Well," the pilot continued with a defiant grin, "today is the day we prove them wrong."
With laughter and jokes among themselves, the pilots lined up, falling into formation before entering their cockpits. Engines began to roar, throbbing with the power of their ships. As each pilot secured their flight and weapon systems, the hangar rumbled with preparation for departure.
"Silver Squadron, all systems online," the leader announced, his voice firm but filled with the energy of one who knows he is about to face danger.
"This is Viper Squadron, all set and ready to hunt," another pilot replied from inside his Broadsword, filling the radio with eager, determined voices.
"Remember, boys," the commander continued. "We are not alone. We are the shield and the sword. We will make the Covenant regret ever coming."
The fighters began to take off in organized squadrons, breaking formation as they left the hangar and speeding toward the battlefield. In space, Covenant fighters had already launched themselves in formation toward them. Tactical screens showed dozens of enemy contacts, but the UNSC pilots did not falter.
“This is Silver One! Fighters in sector eight. Viper, cover us while we initiate a pincer attack!” The squadron leader’s voice broke the silence of the comms, as the UNSC fighters launched themselves at full speed, seeking their first targets.
“Roger, Silver One. Entering formation!” Viper replied in a determined voice as he and his squadron accelerated to support the movement.
The Longswords and Broadswords plunged into the chaos of combat, moving like swift shadows between the Covenant ships. The skill and dexterity of the UNSC pilots shone through every maneuver, as they dodged plasma bolts and returned deadly fire.
“Silver Two, I’ve got an enemy cruiser in my sights here! I’m going to test out those new Maverick missiles.”
“Go ahead, Silver Two,” the leader replied, as his fighter dove to intercept an enemy Banshee fighter.
Within seconds, the battle in space became a spectacle of lights and explosions. Each Covenant victory was celebrated with cheers from the UNSC pilots, but they knew they had to stay focused; for every enemy fighter they destroyed, it seemed like two more appeared.
"Silver One, we need support in sector five. We're outnumbered," one of the pilots announced, his tone thick with tension.
"Hold on, Silver Three! All squadrons, hold formations and don't get surrounded," Silver One shouted, never taking his eyes off the enemy fighter he was pursuing.
Amid the ships and flashes of fire, the UNSC pilots showed the Covenant that they would not be easily defeated. Every maneuver, every turn, and every shot was executed with precision and ferocity. It was a fight where the pilots' skill and endurance would be tested every second.
At the heart of Infinity, in a section specially fortified for the deployment of elite troops, the Spartans were getting ready for what would undoubtedly be one of the most intense missions of their lives. Among them was Noble Team, a group of war-hardened veterans, and in their midst was Jorge-052, the Spartan giant in his imposing Mjolnir Mark V armor, checking his equipment with the same care as always.
“It’s amazing to be here, isn’t it?” Jorge said, his voice resonant within the compartment as he clenched his fist and then released it. “I was dead, guys. It feels weird… but what the hell, it’s good to be back.”
Beside him, Noble Six silently loaded his weapons, nodding as he listened, his eyes shining with an intensity that needed no words. Carter, the team leader, was reviewing the mission data, his calculating gaze fixed on every detail.
"I never thought we'd be in something like this," Carter commented as he snapped his helmet shut and gave his armor a firm thump. "But if anyone's going to clear this place of Covenant, it's got to be Noble Team."
Jorge smiled, his expression serene but full of anticipation. “Oh, you know. We’re going to kick ass and do it in style. Like old times.” His tone of voice had an almost cheerful tone, a mix of nostalgia and suppressed excitement.
The team began loading their weapons into the Orbital Insertion Pods. Each Spartan, silent and focused, prepared to launch to the surface of Naboo, where the battle was already raging. The insertion pods, specially modified to withstand enemy fire, began to close, sealing each Spartan within their own space.
“Remember,” Carter said in a firm tone as he checked his shotgun and nodded to his companions. “We’re not here to survive; we’re here to win this battle.”
“The old-fashioned way,” Jorge added, his voice low but with an intensity that filled the cabin with energy. “We do this together, and we show the Covenant that Naboo is not theirs.”
The launch lights flickered to life, illuminating the determined faces of the Spartans in their pods. With a metallic roar, the hatches closed, and the pressure systems began to roar, ready for launch. The hangar speakers blared out the countdown.
“Five… four… three… two… one… Launch!”
The orbital insertion pods shot out of Infinity, streaking through the atmosphere in a shower of metal and fire. The surface of Naboo, engulfed in explosions and artillery fire, was rapidly approaching. The Spartans of Noble Team, along with dozens of other Spartans, descended like a storm of steel toward the battlefield, with a clear mission and a powerful enemy awaiting them.
Jorge closed his eyes for a moment as he felt the jolt of reentry, a barely audible whisper in his helmet: “The Covenant does not know what awaits them.”
The battle for Naboo had become a desperate struggle. The Republic forces, led by Obi-Wan Kenobi and Aayla Secura alongside the Mandalorians, were on the brink of collapse. As the Covenant invasion progressed, wave after wave of alien forces advanced through the capital, destroying reclaimed positions with relentless brutality.
Enemy fire was relentless, and the Republic army found itself outnumbered and outgunned. Laser cannons and energy weapons could barely hold back the alien tanks and soldiers that were rampaging through the land around Theed Palace, now the last line of resistance.
Amidst the chaos, Obi-Wan watched with a frown, breathing heavily as the clone troops fell back, doing their best to hold their position and cover the wounded left behind. Aayla Secura was up ahead, moving nimbly with her lightsaber, her eyes flashing with determination as she coordinated attacks and held the enemy forces at bay.
“Hold the line!” Captain Rex shouted to the troopers, reloading his blaster amidst the dust and deafening noise of battle. The Mandalorians, in their signature armor and blasters, fought shoulder to shoulder with the clones, firing in all directions as the defensive line fell back further and further.
Then, something unusual began to happen in the sky. From space, a series of fireballs began to light up the horizon. At first, the troopers thought it was some sort of Covenant orbital strike, but they quickly realized that these pods weren't headed their way. They were hurtling toward Covenant positions, leaving fiery trails as they passed through Naboo's atmosphere.
"What the hell is that?" a clone muttered, lowering his weapon for a moment to watch as these strange, flaming pods came ever closer.
The first ODST pods crashed down hard, impacting the ground amidst the enemy lines. Instantly, the doors swung open, and the ODST troopers poured out like a storm of fire and steel, their weapons ringing with deadly precision. The Republic soldiers watched in amazement as these unknown combatants, clad in black armor, fearlessly advanced, firing and attacking in perfect formation.
"First Feet in Hell!" One of the ODSTs shouted as he emerged from his pod, fist-bumping his comrades before launching himself at a squad of Grunts and Elites who had been surprised by the incursion. Their machine guns and explosives cleared the ground, accurately eliminating the Covenant soldiers in a brutal and rapid offensive.
One of the clone troopers shouted into the comm channel, "Who are those?!"
Rex, who kept firing, replied in amazement, "I don't know, but they seem to be on our side. Take advantage of this opportunity!"
Obi-Wan allowed himself a quick smile at the turn of events, taking a breath and charging back into the fight with his lightsaber, coordinating with Aayla Secura. The Mandalorians also took advantage of the distraction, reorganizing and launching themselves back into combat with renewed fury.
The Republic troops, inspired by the courage of these new allies, redoubled their efforts. The battle had changed, at least for now, thanks to the unexpected arrival of the ODSTs.
The ODSTs advanced with unmatched ferocity, leaving a trail of destruction as they cut through the Covenant forces. With lethal precision, their weapons thundered through the chaos, each shot finding a mark. Elites and Grunts fell one after another as these elite UNSC soldiers, with their distinctive war cry, tore through the enemy lines.
“Go, go! Don’t stop!” one of the ODSTs shouted, carrying a heavy machine gun in one hand and detonating grenades with the other, their movements precise and purposeful. They moved with almost superhuman coordination, taking advantage of every cover as they darted from position to position, opening fire on anything that stood in their way.
A pair of ODSTs ran towards a Ghost that was coming at full speed towards them. With an expert maneuver, they dove to the ground just before the vehicle reached them, firing from below with their assault rifles and managing to disable the pilot with a well-aimed shot. One of the ODSTs jumped on top of the Ghost, taking control and turning the vehicle to fire at the Covenant soldiers, wreaking havoc on their lines.
The clones and Mandalorians watched in awe from behind as these soldiers advanced almost fearlessly, leaving the Republic line behind to strike straight into the heart of the Covenant, taking advantage of the commotion and chaos they had generated.
"Those guys are a fucking storm!" a clone trooper muttered, watching as the ODSTs took out a squad of Jackals that was trying to reform. "Don't they know what a retreat is?"
The ODSTs didn't seem to have any thoughts of retreating. Explosions and bursts of fire lit up the battlefield as they destroyed one of the Covenant Wraith tanks with an improvised explosive charge. The tank's frame crumbled, and the flames from the explosion reflected off the soldiers' visors as they moved through the smoldering wreckage.
"Vehicle neutralized! Move forward!" shouted an ODST, leading his comrades to an elevated position to get a better view of the situation. However, the relief was short-lived.
From the horizon, Covenant reinforcements began to appear: waves of troops and vehicles advancing without pause. A squad of Elites commanding a massive Scarab tank advanced towards them, and more Ghosts and Banshees descended from the air. The situation became critical in a matter of seconds. The Covenant forces outnumbered and outgunned them; the ODSTs knew they were running out of options.
"They're closing in!" One of the ODSTs shouted over the intercom, dodging the plasma shots raining down from all directions.
“Hold your ground! We don’t surrender!” the ODST sergeant roared, though his tone reflected the pressure of the situation. The soldiers partially retreated, covering each other as they fell back from the Covenant’s unstoppable advance.
And then, something unexpected happened. More incandescent flashes shot out of the sky, streaking across the sky at astonishing speed. They were drop pods, but these were different. Larger and reinforced, and they emanated an aura of power that made even the Republic soldiers watching from behind feel a chill.
“What the hell are those things?” a Mandalorian muttered, watching in wonder and curiosity.
The pods slammed hard into the battlefield, scattering dust and debris. The doors opened instantly, and the Spartans emerged, imposing armor and visors shining through the smoke and chaos. At the front stood Jorge-052, holding an assault rifle nearly the size of a clone.
"It's good to be back," Jorge said quietly, a firm, determined smile on his face. "To show the Covenant that they ain't seen nothing yet."
The Spartans didn't wait; they immediately advanced in formation, cutting down enemies with precision and superhuman strength. One of the Elites tried to stop Jorge, lunging with an energy sword, but the Spartan dodged with speed and snapped his neck in a single movement, throwing his body into another group of enemies.
The battlefield became a spectacle of action and brutality. The ODSTs and Spartans advanced in perfect synchronicity, eliminating targets with impeccable precision and opening a path of destruction that spread terror through the ranks of the Covenant.
The battle in the ruins of Theed continued with a level of brutality rarely seen on the fields of Naboo. The Spartan-IIs and Spartan-IIIs, led by Samuel-034 and other legendary fallen warriors, proved to be lethal living weapons, fearlessly advancing towards the Covenant lines.
Samuel-034, his Mjolnir armor strapped on and his gaze fixed on the battle, charged into a group of Elites blocking his path. The force of each of his blows unsettled the enemies, while the precision of his movements turned his attacks into a deadly dance. With unwavering determination, Samuel tore through the Covenant lines, leaving a trail of corpses and shards of alien armor behind him.
One of the Elites, a Sangheili Commander, roared and lashed out with an energy sword. Samuel met him with ferocious brutality, knocking him to the ground with one well-aimed blow and crushing his helmet with a single stomp. The Republic soldiers watched in awe as the Spartans advanced with inhuman speed and efficiency.
Nearby, Jorge-052 was engaging a group of Elites with his signature heavy rifle. Each shot rang out like thunder, ripping away chunks of alien armor and flesh. An Elite Zealot leapt at him, but Jorge intercepted it in midair, pinning it down with tremendous strength. With one merciless move, he snapped its neck, throwing its lifeless body at the feet of other Covenant soldiers who, terrified, tried to retreat.
"Keep moving! Don't give them a break!" a Spartan 2 ordered over the intercom, his voice firm and without a trace of doubt. The Spartans followed his order, advancing like an unstoppable tide and leaving a trail of destruction in their wake.
The clones and Mandalorians watched with a mixture of fear and amazement. Though they were seasoned soldiers and had faced many threats, the Spartans represented a level of brutality and efficiency that overwhelmed any conception they had of war. Covenant bodies piled up as the Spartans attacked with terrifying precision, their armor bloodied and stained with the alien plasma.
“Those soldiers… they’re like demons,” a clone whispered to his companion, barely able to tear his eyes away from the carnage.
Amidst the carnage, Noble 6, a lone, relentless Spartan, made his way towards a Wraith tank. He leapt onto the armored structure and, using explosives, destroyed the vehicle’s core, sending the tank and nearby Grunts to pieces. The flash of the explosion briefly illuminated the hull of his blackened armor as he continued forward without pause, like an inhuman spectre.
The Elites attempted to form a defensive line, coordinating their attacks to halt the advance of these superhumans, but each attempt was thwarted with military precision. The Spartan IIs and IIIs seemed to know their enemies' every move, and their reactions were lightning-fast and decisive.
The ground shook as the Spartans advanced, laying waste to enemy vehicles. Using frag grenades and precision rifles, they destroyed Wraiths and Ghosts that tried to restrain them. A Spartan III launched himself at a Brute, striking it with such force that the sound of breaking bones echoed across the battlefield. Another Spartan, armed with a rocket launcher, destroyed a Phantom that was hovering overhead, raining burning debris from the ship down on the Covenant lines.
Carter-A259, leader of Noble Team, led his Spartan squad through the Covenant lines, exploiting any weak points. “Noble Team, flank the Scarab,” he ordered, pointing at a massive tank advancing and putting the clones at risk.
As the Spartans advanced towards the Scarab, the Covenant made one last desperate attempt to halt their advance, launching a line of Brutes and Elites in a suicidal offensive. The Spartans responded with brutal efficiency, striking with every shot and melee attack. A Brute Chieftain ran at Emile, who cut him down with a knife, sinking him to the bone in one swift, accurate move. The Brute’s blood splattered across his visor, but Emile only smiled behind his helmet, enjoying the moment.
Eventually, the Spartans reached the Scarab and, after a quick maneuver in which they planted explosives, retreated just as a massive explosion lit up the sky. The massive tank crumbled, its burning remains scattering across the battlefield, causing a large number of casualties among the nearby Covenant forces.
The fight was a terrifying spectacle, with the Spartans displaying the power and precision that made them so feared. With every step, they left a trail of alien corpses, and the Covenant's terror was palpable. Even the battle-hardened Republic and Mandalorian soldiers felt like they were witnessing something beyond human. The arrival of the Spartans had turned the tide of battle, and for the first time, the balance of power seemed to tip in favor of survival and hope.
Obi-Wan and Aayla Secura watched, stunned, as the battlefield, moments before in chaos, was transformed into a scene of imposing victory. The Covenant troops, who had mercilessly razed Naboo, now lay shattered, scattered among the rubble of their once relentless offensive. Before his eyes, transport ships from an unknown faction, marked with the UNSC insignia, were deploying, descending to deploy vehicles and more soldiers, expanding their presence on the planet.
Obi-Wan, still out of breath, felt a strange mix of relief and awe. He breathed deeply as he took in the scene, searching for the words to express what he saw, and yet he only managed to crack a smile as he looked around, marveling at the force that had turned the tide of battle in the blink of an eye.
“Incredible…” Aayla Secura murmured, her voice filled with a mix of fascination and awe as her eyes followed the UNSC soldiers. “How can this be…? These soldiers… the normal ones are lethal… and these six-foot-tall hulks… I’ve never seen anything like this before.”
Obi-Wan listened as his eyes fell on the Spartans, who, despite their massive size, moved with an agility and ferocity that sent shivers down his spine. They were like specters of destruction, inhumanly fast and brutal, their faces barely showing any effort. But before he could respond, his communicator came to life with a familiar signal.
“Master? Are you still alive?” Anakin’s agitated voice filtered through the device. “We’re trying to get reinforcements in as quickly as possible, something just happened… I don’t know how to explain it, but it’s chaos up here.”
Obi-Wan gulped, still trying to process what he was seeing. In a calm, but visibly emotional tone of voice, he replied, "Anakin... I'm still alive. Don't worry. Here... the battle was over before it began."
The Jedi looked once more at the devastated battlefield, watching as the remaining Republic soldiers and Mandalorians tried to come to terms with what had happened. What had just happened was something none of them would forget, a ray of hope in the darkness that had engulfed them.
Obi-Wan allowed himself one last look of relief before sighing. He knew the war was not over yet, but for the first time in a long time, he felt like he was not alone.
End of Chapter 10