For eight years, the Spirit of Fire had been drifting through space, with Serina at the controls, and the crew all in cryosleep. Unfortunately, two years earlier, the AI had terminated herself, and so essentially, for that time period, the warship had been on its own. Somehow, through some sheer stroke of luck, the Spirit had wound up in space above the human colony Kholo, and thus, the crew were awakened by a protocol that Serina had installed upon the ship’s systems, before she began her final dispensation.
At first, plans had been made to head down to the surface, and see if they could get in contact with the UNSC, and acquire a Slipspace drive so that they could return to Reach. However, barely a few hours after they had planned and become organized, the Covenant had arrived. And they knew what they had to do - they were going to help evacuate Kholo’s civilians.
Strikeforce after strikeforce had been sent from the semi-crippled warship, which was in hiding around the dark side of the planet’s moon. Red Team were on the surface, and they had split up, seeking out and rescuing as many civilians as they could come across.
Thus it was, that Jerome-092 had wound up boots-on-the-ground at a school. It was simply coincidence that that was where his Pelican had crash landed after being shot down. And it was further coincidence that the Covenant were hurling a decent-sized force at the school, attacking the civilians while they were leaving. Jerome had a job to do - and so he fought his way through wave after wave of Covenant. Unfortunately, he had been mere moments too late, because he was finding more bodies than survivors. And each time he thought that he had come close, he was just a splitsecond too slow.
He jogged outside, seeing if, perhaps, there was anyone he could save. Civilians tended to scatter in all directions when panicked; there was no telling where these ones would disappear to. He then paused, shotgun in hand, and crouched, observing as a cluster of Elites streamed out of yet another Spirit that had just landed to disgorge its troops.
The dropship drifted away, and he remained hidden as he watched the split-lips spread out, searching. And then, there was one de-cloaking itself, grabbing at a civilian teenager not fifty feet away from him. A second teen, armed with a baseball bat, yelled in anger, and whacked the alien in the face, stunning it.
Most people he’d seen tended to run in fear, especially when the Covies were up close and personal. But not this young woman - she was fearless, in the face of danger. He thought it quite impressive, doing it to save her companion.
Jerome rose to his feet, and started fighting his way through the Elites, dropping them with ease. He needed to save these civilians. He was not going to be too late. He rushed into the cluster of aliens, his shotgun booming, feet thudding on the pavement, chuckling quietly to himself as a squid-head over-reached and allowed him to shoot it in its exposed abdomen. His green-armoured figure was unmistakable, and gradually, his ichor- and dirt-spattered form made its way closer to the civilians.
