Tar sat quietly through the phantom ride, listening to every rattle and hum of the hull as if it was talking to her. Her mind slowly calmed, uncoupling from the galaxy outside Brissekh to focus solely on the mission. 

They all knew what they were doing, they’d seen the maps and force strength reports. Now all that was left was to walk those paths and eliminate anything that got in their way. Tar was loyal to Brissekh, but like any other Sangheili warrior, wouldn’t hesitate to kill her clanmates if they refused to stand aside. 

She checked her loadout one more time, then stared into space again. Time passed, until suddenly it was time to go. Tar got up and stepped into the grav lift without hesitation.

The rain whipped about her as she levitated down to the ground, bringing the smell of wet vegetation with it. This instantly brought back memories from Tar’s childhood, foraging and hunting in woods like these. She scanned around as she flew, taking in the edge of the forest and the mountains in the background. It was good to be home; she could’ve warbled with delight had it not risked attracting attention.

Tar’s feet sank into the mud with a satisfying squelch. Thankfully as her armour had been crafted on Brissekh, her shoes came with small retractable studs to keep her steady on this kind of unstable ground. The Commando raised her carbine and fanned out, securing the perimeter as rain hammered the clearing and trickled into the cracks of her breastplate.

Once Vael gave the order to mount up, Tar moved quickly to the lead Spectre, stowed her carbine and hopped into the driver’s seat. The front hull closed in around her legs, leaving just her head and upper body exposed. She activated the vehicle, and it floated into a ready position. “The fog could get worse. Stay close.” Tar grunted, checking her instruments. She wasn’t as familiar with driving Spectres as she was with Phantoms and Banshees, but most of the principles were similar.