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Ascendant by Archangel's Blade



Ascendant Part I
Date: 06 June 2002, 12:05 am

Authors Note: First time writing. Any feedback would be appreciated. Email me at archangels_blade@hotmail.com


A moon in a system not too far from Reach
Covenant supply depot #74
5:18 am
Pte. Michael N. Sheener

We were the fourth unit to the hot zone. Nothing in Basic could have prepared me for what real combat was like.
İİİİİRiding in on the track pod of a Scorpion MBT reminded me of the brutal Basic Training back on Reach. Back then, we mastered tactics, weapons training, the art of lobbing grenades, and of course, vehicle training. My least favorite was riding on the track pods. I saw two of my fellow trainees accidentally fall off and watched them splatter all over the training ground when they were run over.
İİİİİThere were four of us on the pods and one up on the turret when we rode into the area. Faster than it seemed possible, there were only the four of us on the pods. Blood sprayed through the air as a plasma bolt blew the L.T. in two. That left only myself, a lowly private, and three other rookies fresh from Basic Training. Scorpion riding never was my best subject.
İİİİİJumping off to the side, I just barely avoided a bolt of plasma as it flew, streaming through the air. And then there were three of us as the bolt melted the head of the marine on the track pod behind me. How could this be possible?!
İİİİİDucking behind the cover of some nearby crates, I noticed that three other marines from another squad were pinned down behind some Covenant supply crates nearby by two jackals. Swinging my MA5B assault rifle around, I squared them in my HUD crosshairs, picked off one jackal with its back to me, and wounded the other. This brought my clip down to about half. Accuracy wasn't my best subject either.
İİİİİTwo of the marines were instantly annihilated as a shot from a fuel rod gun hit the ground between them. Hunters! Swinging to take a look, I saw that we were lucky, and that there was two, but there was only one of them nearby, and badly wounded at that! A grenade from one of my squadmates took care of it.
İİİİİSuddenly, the tank opened fire. About time! The cannon took out about five grunts and an elite who stood to close to them. I felt relieved that the driver of the Scorpion wasn't killed in the initial volley of plasma.
İİİİİJust then, a bolt from a nearby elite blasted into the crate near my head! Ducking behind the crate and hoping that it wouldn't come over, I started to cry. I was only a city boy fresh onto the battlefield. I was expecting a life of glory, like the ones shown in the Holos back on Drake. Already I had witnessed more killing than I thought I would. The annihilation of my L.T. right off the bat, the death of my not-so-agile-as-me squadmate, and the destruction of two of the men I saved with my lucky shots. Anger welled up inside me as I thought about all the men and women who had died in this war so far because of these miserable alien bitches.
İİİİİStanding up, I stared the elite right in the eye, and said something I never thought a good little city boy like me could say to a powerful alien warrior bent on the destruction of my entire race: Open wide and suck lead you motherfucking genocidal alien asshole! I know it sounds a little cheesy, but it really bolstered my courage as I opened fire. I actually felt like the marines shown on the recruitment posters back home! Running like a maniac, the elite dove for cover as my MA5B clicked dry. Oh shit, I forgot I only had half a clip left! I'm fucked!
Just when I thought I was dead, my surviving squadmates realized that they might lose another man, and shot the elite dead before its shields could regenerate. By now, most of the Covenant had either been killed or had run away. Luckily for me, none of the surviving Covs were near me.
Reinforcements finally arrived. I saw full Pelicans landing, and dropping off troops and medics. Warthogs pulled up and LAAGed the hell out of the surviving Hunter. The Scorpion MBT that I rode in on blew up a ghost that I hadn't even noticed.
With a total of two and 1/2 kills, I had survived my first firefight. So this is what it feels like to be a marine of the UNSC: scared, desensitized, and in combat shock; nothing like the recruiting officers described.
As the weapons depot was burned to cinders, I felt justified over the death of my squadmates. Flying out on a Pelican for the first time, I realized that this was just the beginning of something big, something special; this was the beginning of my career as a frontline marine.



Ascendant Part II
Date: 6 June 2002, 12:07 am

Colony Summer
Marine Barracks #109
8:16 p.m.
Pte. Michael A. Sheener

     It's been 7 days since the destruction of Reach. I never thought it possible that the Covenant could push us past our best military base besides Earth itself. If I was there, maybe we could have turned the tide of the battle.
     The entire "Upfront Assassins" platoon was pulled out 3 weeks beforehand along with the rest of our division and 9 other divisions. Riding out with an entire fleet of Battlecruiser-types, we knew that the lives of the entire human race rested on our shoulders. 3 Battlecruisers would be enough to take on a taskforce of 50 Cov cruisers! We left our friends, family, and comrades behind, not knowing that we would never see them again.
We were supposed to strike as soon as the Spartans secured the coordinates of the Covenant home planet. The Spartans, however, never knew that they would have to face an entire Covenant fleet before they left Reach. They never stood a ghost of a chance.
     Maybe if we were there-.
     Now we must stand, isolated from Earth, on an outer colony that the Covenant thankfully missed. But not for long. We have an inbound Cov taskforce who obviously want to annihilate us to fulfill their jihad.
We still really don't know what the hell the jihad is about. As all of us know, the Covs hate us, and declare us an affront to their gods. Why that is, and who's telling them this, we don't know.
My two surviving squadmates died about 12 weeks ago when their pelican was shot down by banshees on the Colony of Arianna. I was sick with salmonella from the messhall meals, so I thankfully missed that. But I don't miss the Bulldog's chief cook!
The scorpion pilot from my first mission was transferred to the Pillar of Autumn shortly before we left. I wonder if the Autumn ever made it out with any Spartans?
The last survivor from the first battle was transferred over to my squad, so Jamie, or Leftovers as we call him, is still alive. However, he might not make it out when the Covs start landing. None of us might, but that's a sacrifice we accepted when we signed on as marines.


Touchdown Zone
11:09

     I hate pelicans. They are fragile, unarmed, and slow. They should be called "sitting ducks", because that's essentially what they are. I saw 2 of them shot down as we went in.
Watching through what I could see of the cockpit window, the party was already underway. Bursts of gunfire and blasts of plasma were visible from two miles away. A massive explosion alerted me to the fact that someone took out a Cov dropship with a frag grenade. Maybe we will win this after all.
My LT had a friend on the Bulldog, the flagship of our small Battlecruiser fleet, and he said that the fighting was pretty intense up there. Boy am I glad I'm a marine and not a pilot! Seraphs scare the hell out of me, and I don't think I could hit a banshee at any rate. As I've said before, and probably will say many more times in my life, accuracy never was my best attribute.
Coming up on the dropzone, I began loading my MA5B Assault Rifle, and my standard issue M-202 pistol. As we lowered toward the ground, I was preparing to leap out the door, when a ball of blue streaked into the passenger area! A brave marine shot it out the door somehow, where it promptly exploded. Whoever shot the grenade would probably make a good sniper!
Upon hitting the ground, I rolled from my old position to avoid plasma. I looked around for some cover, and spotted a crate not too far away. However, the jackal that was currently targeting me noticed it as well, and seemed determined not to let me reach it.
Unloading my clip at the jackal as I ran, I managed to keep the jackal behind its shield until I reached the crate.
How was I supposed to know that the crate was full of grenades?
The last thing I saw after flying 12 meters was a man dressed in white run up and open a big white box. After that, everything went black.



Ascendant Part III
Date: 06 June 2002, 12:08 am

Somewhere in space
Battlecruiser Bulldog
Pte. Michael A. Sheener

     As I drifted in and out of consciousness, I overheard some fragments of what the docs were discussing.
     "-won't make it."
     "Administer morphine, hope-best."
     "-do any good. Vitals-dropping steadily."
     "Shrapnel embedded-thorax, legs-critical."
     "-idea-Spartan III-hurry."
     "Tell captain-Argos 9-speed."
     As the docs discussed something that seemed like the ancient sport of golf to me, I began to wonder where the hell I was. It was clear that I had taken some heavy damage when that crate of grenades exploded. How much damage, however, was unknown to me. I hurt all over, even with the morphine. I figured that I was a goner.
     Then it dawned on me. Spartan III? Argos 9? Something important was going on.


Argos 9
Spartan III Medical Centre

     I hurt more. I had undergone extensive surgery, and it seemed like I would be alright. However, my head hurt when it hadn't before. Bandages covered my eyes, and I could see nothing but black.
     I lay for days. When the doctors came to check on me, they seemed satisfied upon seeing me. What the hell had happened that made them so proud of me, a lowly private who had barely survived his eleventh battle?
     One day, the doctors finally took the bandage off my face. A mirror hanging on my wall gave me a clue to what had happened.
     My eyes were gold.


Argos 9
Spartan III Medical Centre

     It was hell, but the nurses finally got me walking. When I could speak again, I asked what the docs had done to me. The nurses seemed shocked that I didn't know.
     I was now a Spartan.
     After I was carried off the battlefield by the pelican that I had left mere seconds before, the medic carried me up to the advanced sickbay of the Bulldog. The fleet was fighting a losing battle against over 400 Covenant ships, and was forced to withdraw, leaving hundreds of marines behind, including Jamie.
     Aboard the ship, the doctors found that there was little they could do to help me. I was lucky to survive long enough to get to Argos 9. Having taken heavy shrapnel damage, the doctor turned to one last resort.
     Having been a doc for the growing Spartan III project, he decided to bring me here to Argos 9 to become a Spartan.
     And here I am. My eyes were upgraded to enhance vision. An implant in my brain could increase reaction speed, and link me to my suit. The muscles were enhanced to increase speed and strength. My heart was brought up to the capacity to beat at up to 450 times a minute. That's inhuman!
     The doc says that in 3 weeks, I'll be better than my old self.


Five weeks later
Argos 9
Spartan III Training Centre

     I finally had my accuracy down pat. These eyes really are something. As I reloaded my MA5B assault rifle, I remembered a time when I could barely clip the foot of the training dummy back in Basic Training on Reach. Reach-.
     I remembered my friends who had been stationed there before I left: Juan, Andrew, Robert, and all the others. They had undoubtedly been killed when the Covenant had glassed the planet. Turning back toward the Covenant training dummy, I blew the head off with a burst of full out automatic fire, only using about 10 rounds of 60.
     Walking back to the base, I shot the bugs I occasionally saw on the Titanium A walls. Laughing at my newfound targets, I lazily sauntered the 12 mile stretch between the firing range and the armory.
     Upon reaching the armory, I noticed a large supply transport unloading crates of weaponry. A private called over to me, "Hey, sir, wanna come meet your new weapons, commander sir?"
     Since becoming a Spartan, my rank had improved dramatically. Remembering a time when I was a private, not too long ago, I cheerfully called over, "On my way, 'cause I love seeing my new toys!"
     Upon reaching the weapons crates, I tore the lid off easily. What I saw surprised me: an MA5B combined with a plasma rifle.
     "You see sir, the boys back on Earth found out how the things work about two weeks ago, and have been mass-producing these new pulse weapons ever since. They're a lot more accurate, and use plasma-charged bullets to pierce covvie armor."
     "Mind if I try it out," I asked the 'weaponsmaster'.
     "Go right ahead, sir. Not my place to tell you different," was the answer I received.
     Lifting one of the pulse rifles, I slapped a clip and battery into the gun. I aimed at a large spider on the wall, and squeezed my finger. Without much kickback, the blue-glowing bullet raced toward its target, and-left a crater in the wall!
     "Private, find my fellow Spartans and tell them about these mean motherfuckers, and I mean doubletime!
     "Sir yes sir!" The private loped towards the vehicle training course.


1/2 a week later
Argos 9
Spartan III Parade Ground

     Assembled, we were an impressive sight. Dressed in the newly developed MJOLNIRNX armor, and armed with phase rifles, just looking at the 349 of us would scare the hell out of covvies by the dozen!
     As the commanding officer approached the dias, several men began walking through the ranks handing out small objects according to whose name was upon the object.
     "Today, we will be introducing a new element to the Spartan projects," said General Stygia, the project commander.
     "Previous tests concluded that the Spartan soldiers preformed more accurately with the AIs of ships. Thus, the UNSC techie branch developed a new toy for all of you. Personal AIs. Each of you has been assigned one, and will keep it with you for the rest of your existence. Each AI has been coordinated with your personality and traits. We hope to see that this experiment comes out with positive results."
     By this time, the men had passed me a small chip. Inserting it into the side of my helmet, I prepared for the worst. Instead, a small hologram appeared on my HUD. It was a picture of a winged man with a sword on his back. He had white hair, blue eyes, and an expression on his face that made me feel at home.
     "Hello Commander Michael Sheener, Spartan mark VII number 235. I will be your new partner on the battlefield.
     "My name is Archangel."



Ascendant Part IV
Date: 9 June 2002, 8:34 pm

Former Colony Summer
Covenant POW camp
6:29 p.m.
Com. Mike 235, Spartan mark VII

     We arrived back in the Summer system, hoping to find some form of human life on the planet. We found that there was life on the planet, but the humans that were there, well, weren't running around killing Covenant. Instead of killing them, however, the Covvies kept them alive for some unknown reason at a large, heavily guarded base.
     We were dropped off outside the base with orders for an offensive. With the Spartans backing up the regulars, we figured that we should be able to hold our own. Hefting my new best friend, a phase rifle, I quietly ducked through a small hole in the plasma fence surrounding the POW camp. My HUD infrared detected multiple other soldiers doing the same. I didn't, however, detect my fellow Spartans, as the new MJOLNIRNX armor adjusted to the heat of the surroundings, making us virtually invisible to heat sensors.
     Sneaking up behind a sleeping grunt, I bashed the back of his skull in with one swift blow from the butt of my phase rifle. Spotting another grunt snoozing away, far from the watchful eyes of the elites and jackals, I moved toward it.
     It wasn't sleeping.
     Jumping bolt upright, the faking grunt prepared to scream, when a silenced pistol shot shut him up. I should have noticed that one.
     "You were lucky," stated my AI, Archangel.
     "Not as lucky as I was to survive the grenades that ended me up in this armor," I retorted.
     "Just read the motion detector next time," reminded Archangel. "Sleeping grunts don't move, but that one was."
     Advancing behind a lone jackal, I noticed something I hadn't before. The jackal was watching a procession towards an altar in the middle of the courtyard. A group of red-robed Covenant priests were escorting a lone human officer towards the altar. One produced a smaller version of the plasma sword. Human sacrifice. So this was what the Covenant were keeping them alive for. I wasn't going to let this happen.
     Radioing my squad of Spartans, I jumped into the glow of the courtyard, and immediately began loosing plasma-charged rounds. All at once, things turned to hell.
     A squad of hunters appeared from nowhere, and made mincemeat of a group of marines. Another group of marines made the mistake of running for cover in a Covenant barracks. I watched helplessly as their corpses flew out the door accompanied by a hail of plasma. Jeez, were these guys trying to get themselves killed?!
     Dodging the returning plasma fire, I dived for a box of some unknown Covenant military supplies, and hoped that it wasn't filled with plasma grenades.
     "Scanning the cargo of that crate," mentioned Archangel as he practically read my mind.
     "You're lucky. It only contains some packets of organic material. Probably somebody's blood."
     "Hope mine won't join it!" I added.
     "If you play your cards right, you can cakewalk out of here. Just listen to my info. There's a squad of Covvie grunts right about there," a nav point came up to my right on my HUD, " and they're trying to circle around you. I would use a grenade."
     I hurled a grenade right into their midst, and watched with satisfaction as the grunts learned how to fly the hard way.
     "Don't get cocky now, Mike, 'cause there's lots more where that came from. I just detected an incoming Cov dropship. Apparently, the one of the cruisers up there managed to find the time to launch it in between getting slagged by our battlecruisers. Get ready, I can't quite tell, but I think there's hunters aboard."
     Swinging to the left, I watched three Spartans ice a squad of elites without any difficulty. Realizing that I had backup, I stood up over the crate, and wasted a couple of jackals with their shields pointed in the wrong direction.
     My shields started taking hits, and my HUD pointed to the right. One of the grunts I blew up apparently survived, and was draining the power core in his plasma pistol in my direction.
     Bringing my powerful phase rifle to bear, I blew his head clean off its shoulders with one round, and detonated his grenades with another. One less problem to worry about.
     An elite started yelling at his retreating squad of grunts, and noticed me. Drawing his plasma rifle, he leveled it at me, and prepared to loose a rapid volley of plasma in my direction. He never got the chance. A plasma-charged round blew out his shields, and another punched through the hole in his armor over his eye. Damn, my accuracy sure had improved with my bugblasting on Argos 9.
     Upon the arrival of the dropship, several of my fellow Spartans, 80 in all, lobbed grenades in unison. When my eyes finally focused, I noticed the massive pile of scrap metal in the middle of the courtyard, with the parts of the bodies of the unlucky Covenant flying their last few meters to hit walls and floors.
     "See, I was right. At least half of the passengers of that dropship were hunters. Their fuel rod guns would have vaporized you and your men."
     "Now don't you get cocky, Archangel, 'cause the fighting's not over yet. Get me a fix on the brass I saved and the rest of the prisoners."
     "Right. Scanning-got it. The brass was shot soon after you freed him, but the rest of the prisoners are still alive. They are in that building over-there."
     A nav point appeared on my HUD pointing 20 meters to my left. Hefting my powerful weapon, I ran to the building.
     "Funny thing is, Mike, is that they aren't moving. Scanning-they seem barely alive down there! You'd better hall ass and get them outta here!"
     Like all the Covenant structures I have ever seen in my life, the building was pink and purple. Were there ever exceptions to this rule? Jeez! Racing down the corridors, I nearly ran over a small group of Specops grunts, which seemed to be running from something themselves. Leveling my gun, I leveled them. The phase rifle was more effective than I thought!
     Upon reaching the doors to the area where the humans were being held, I noticed that there hadn't been any Covenant since the Specops grunts. Where had they all gone? What were the Specops grunts running from? I guessed that I would soon find out the answer to both.



Ascendant Part V
Date: 16 June 2002, 12:27 am

Former Human Colony Summer
9:09 p.m.
Com. Michael Sheener, Spartan Mark VII, Number 235

     I worked the jammed doors open. The grunts obviously didn't want what they were running from to chase after them. What I saw startled me.
     The floor was covered in burned Covenant bodies. Blood was splashed everywhere. Computer terminals were smoking and sparking. The lights overhead flickered constantly, and I was forced to rely on night vision. What really scared me was what I saw along the walls.
     Lining the edges of the room were rows of tubes. Each tube was covered in what passed for Covenant glass. Each tube held a human soldier.
     Each tube was scorched and burned.
     Running to the nearest tube, I checked what I thought were the life support readings on the Covenant version of the cryogenic suspension unit. The readings were in the form of coloured bars. The bars were all dropping steadily. Not good!
     "Let me try," said Archangel, "Maybe I can figure out how to wake them up."
     "You'd better hurry up, then," I said as I reached my hand up to my helmet.
     I heard noise, like a grunt pleading for its life. As I moved to find out what it was, I saw that it was a grunt pleading for its life. But what it was pleading to wasn't human. It wasn't Covenant. I didn't know what it was.
     "Please master! We only kept the humans as a sacrifice to you! Please, master; don't hurt me like the rest! Please! NO!!"
     The creature, composed of some form of orange energy, raised its hand. Speaking in a voice that sounded like it shouldn't exist, it told the grunt the last words it would ever hear.
     "I told you miserable worms to kill all the humans you encountered! I can't have another generation of Forerunner scampering around the universe, creating creatures to combat my species! I won't have it! Die worm!"
     It motioned, and the grunt was crisped from the inside out. Then it noticed me.
     "Another Forerunner?! Another one survived the Ringworld installation?! I thought I had hunted you all down! No matter, you won't survive to create another version of the Flood."
Raising its hand, it motioned.
I flew.
     Right into one of the sparking control panels.
     Sparks flew as I hit, and my shields went out immediately. Wave upon wave of electrical (or whatever the Covenant use) energy pulsed through my body. Archangel screamed at me to move. I couldn't. I was frozen in place. My gun was still slung over my shoulder, untouched. I spaced out.

     "We don't have to do this, warrior," said the paladin, "Just turn yourself over to my custody, and I'm sure the bishop will give you a quick death for sacrilege and heresy."
     I couldn't let that happen. What I knew had to get out to the people. The church had lied to us all along. There was no God. There was no 'magical creation'. It was all just a lie. And they knew it.
     "I'm afraid that it's not so easy. The medallion I found in the tomb proves it. And I'm not going to give up so easily."
     My hand snaked for the sword over my shoulder. It never made it. My head flew.

     "Breathe, Mike, breathe, dammit!! You can't die on me this easily! You lived through those grenades; you can live through being electrocuted! Breathe, you miserable Spartan fucker!"
     I tried to breathe. I really did. But I couldn't. I just couldn't.

     "Son, hand over the medallion," said the mounted knight.
     "Can't. Too valuable," was my reply. I couldn't let anyone have it. He said not to. He made me promise.
     "Boy, I'm warning you. If you don't hand that over, I'll kill you."
     "Can't. I promised."
     "Promised who? You know you stole it," was the knight's accusation.
     "That's a lie, and you know it. I promised! You won't have it!"
     I didn't see the dagger until too late.

     "Hold on, I'll call for help, and try to tap into the controls through the Covenant Battlenet."
     "I-can't hold-on-much-l-longer-."
     "I'll hurry. You just sit tight."
     Easy for him to say. He's not the one with hundreds of volts of electricity jolting through him.

     "Give me that medallion, and I promise you 3 billion credits."
     This curator was no different from the last. Always trying to scam me out of a priceless alien artifact. An artifact that belonged to a species unknown to mankind.
     "Give me 500 billion and I might consider."
     "500 billion?! That's insane! The most I can offer is 90 billion credits. Please, this is the best offer I can give to you, and I can assure you that it's the best you'll find."
     My medallion wasn't going to go anywhere without more money than that! I had risked my life hunting through that collapsing tomb for it! Those knights sure did know how to boobytrap their brethren's tombs!
     "150 billion, no less."
     "Please, just lower the price. I lied a little when I said 90 billion. I can offer up to 120 billion. Just give it up."
     "130"
     "125"
     "Done. It's all yours."
     I hoped I had done the right thing. I mean, life wasn't cheap nowadays, and 125 billion credits might not cover it. I barely heard him say, "Thank you. Don't worry, that artifact will be just fine in the Museum of UNSD and Alien History."

     I finally figured out what I needed to do. Remembering that electrical power moves slower in cold environments, I activated the armor's internal cooling system with a thought. The electricity had slowed down enough for me to pull away from the console. My lungs were immediately flooded with freshly filtered air, and I was overwhelmed. The last thought running through my mind before I blacked out was, what the hell were those memories doing flooding my head? They weren't even mine-.

     I was rudely awakened by a pair of curious grunts kicking me in the sides.
     "Is he dead? If he is, I get his gun! I saw what those things could do in the courtyard!"
     "But I want it! I saw him first! I want his gun!"
     I hated to interrupt their argument, but I still wanted my phase rifle. Standing up, I scared the grunts out of their wits!
     "AAAACK! HE'S STILL ALIVE!! RUN!!"
     Punching one, I punctured his methane tank. I turned to the other, and picked him up before he could scurry away any farther.
     "What the hell was that big ugly orange thing that was here a while back?"
     "I ain't talking human! Won't tell you about the master! Not even if-" I raised my pulse rifle, "-Okay, okay, just don't shoot!! He's something he calls an 'Ascendant', one of the 'Elder Races'. Please, don't shoot!"
     Don't worry, little guy, you're coming with me! You've got more info than I do, so you can tell high command!"
     "Are you sure that's such a good idea," Archangel asked, "I mean, won't the Covenant try to get him back? They have in the past."
     "Relax, Arch. I know what I'm doing. I think."
     "Oh, that's really reassuring."
     Ignoring my AI, I strolled leisurely out of the room of dead humans and Covenant, back to the courtyard where I knew my fellows were waiting.



Ascendant Part VI
Date: 6 July 2002, 7:29 pm

Author’s Note: Whew, it’s finally done! This chapter has been plaguing me for the better part of three weeks. Editing, thinking, typing, editing again. Now I know what the HBO Fanfic greats like Vector40 and Ian Barnes have to go through. It really makes you appreciate what they have to go through to give you a bit of reading pleasure. Thanks, guys, for the inspiration, and for all those great stories.


Commander Michael A. Sheener
Battlecruiser Bulldog
Orbiting the Recaptured Colony Summer
4:22 p.m.


"Whaddya mean ascendant? Ascendants are supposed to be like gods! We can’t fight those!"
"Admiral Stygia, please calm down. That’s what the grunt told me, and what it told our chief interrogation officer. If it’s a godlike figure, maybe killing it off will mean that the Covenant will stop attacking us. Maybe that’s their ‘god’."
"But how can we find it? And even IF it’s real, the way you described it, it’s made of energy. How can we fight that?"
It had been two days since the recapturing of Summer. With my prisoner, I had managed to gain an appointment with Admiral Stygia, our commanding officer. I told him all about our failed attempt to save the humans on the planet, and also the cause of their deaths.
I had run into unforeseen difficulties when a powerful being, something as old as the Forerunner themselves, attacked me. I was hurled into a control console that ran power to the life support systems of the Cryopods that the humans were contained in. The destruction of the console had not only killed the humans, it had electrocuted me. The electrical shock had triggered the release of memories that weren’t even mine. How they got there in the first place is still a mystery.
The being was referred to as ‘master’ by the Covenant warriors. Whether it was one of the Covenant gods, or a species of the Covenant that we hadn’t encountered before, or the one of the Prophets, I don’t know. And neither do any of us, as the grunt I took prisoner on the planet died in interrogation. Such a weak species they are.
"For some reason, Admiral, memories of others were released in my mind when I was electrocuted. I don’t know how the hell they got there, but I do know one thing: they all talked about some medallion of an ancient race found on earth as early on as the Medieval ages. One told me where it might still be located, in the Museum of UNSD and Alien History."
"And what relevance does that pose? How do I know you just didn’t go loony when you got electrocuted?"
"Well, it might be related to the ‘Ascendant’. Maybe it will tell us what the hell we’re facing. And, if we’re lucky, it might tell us how to fight them. And as for the question about my sanity, you’ll just have to trust me. However, I need to get a hold on the medallion to be sure."
He let out a defeated sounding sigh, "Tell me what it looks like, and I’ll get it brought up for you."
Battlecruiser Bulldog
Orbiting the Colony Summer
4:18 a.m.
Commander Michael A. Sheener
"Sir, sorry to wake you sir, but the package you ordered from the museum has arrived, sir."
"It’s okay, private, I wasn’t getting much sleep anyway."
"It’s down on C-deck, landing bay #4."
"I’ve got it, private."
It looked like the long-awaited medallion had finally arrived after 8 days of waiting. Leisurely strolling down the long, Titanium A hallways, I made my way towards the landing deck where it was located. Passing a group of marines playing paintball for accuracy training, I stopped to listen to their sergeant yelling at them.
"What the hell do you pansies think you’re doing? Just because the Covvies aren’t here, doesn’t mean I won’t get tough on your candy asses!! Hurry up and shoot each other, or I’ll join in and waste you novice wimps without breaking a sweat!"
I remembered a time just over two months ago when I couldn’t hit the broadside of a Longsword hanger. I decided to join in. Grabbing a spare gun, I shot them all in 30 seconds flat, taking no hits to myself, as I had the element of surprise.
I eventually went to the landing deck, after two more rounds of paintball. The sergeant of the squad had insisted that I teach his "motherfucking wimps" how to shoot. In the last one, the squad’s sniper, a corporal named Joseph Patterson picked me off before I could find him. I could see why they made him sniper.
Once in the landing deck, I headed for the supply ship that had arrived with the box. Grabbing the small titanium crate, I easily tore the sealed lid from its welded joints. Seeing what I wanted, I carefully removed the medallion, and tossed the box aside, where it clattered across the Titanium A deck.
The medallion was a small, round disc. It looked something like the chip that my AI, Archangel, was programmed onto. However, I had left him to socialize with the other Spartans’ AIs in the commonroom computer.
Taking the medallion, I wondered if it was a disc. I decided to take a chance, and I slid it into one of the slots in the side of my helmet. It just barely fit, and amazingly enough, it worked. Not amazing just because it was a little off size, but the fact that it was an alien disc, not a medallion at all!
A small picture showed up on my helmet’s HUD.
There was a man, with the background behind him showing a ship, with sparks flying from the ceiling. Men in armor similar to my own ran past, yelling orders. The man in the foreground started to speak.
"This is Captain Arnar of the Forerunner cruiser, Armageddon. If you are watching this, it means that we may not have survived our landing on the planet labeled on the starcharts as Terra. If you are Forerunner, I would like to inform you that the war against the aliens that name themselves Ascendants is not running well, and that the Ringworld installation has been abandoned.
"The Project to create the new superweapon species known as the Flood was running smoothly. We had almost created a gene that would allow Forerunner to command them in battle. The ‘Ascendants’ attacked before we could integrate the gene into the Flood, and we were forced to unleash the Flood as a final defense. The Arrkans were annihilated on Threshold’s moon, the Covenant coalition didn’t work well, and the Sentinels, as you know, are ineffective against the ‘Ascendants’. However, the aliens sent a collection of captured Covenant after us, instead of attacking directly, as they usually do.
"During the ensuing battles, the Flood and remaining loyal Covenant turned on us, which unfortunately, was expected, and we were forced off the Ringworld by Ascendants, Covenant, and Flood. However, the Ascendant command force with the Covenant was all but wiped out. Watching hidden cameras while evacuating discovered this little tidbit.
"The Flood project was a success in a way, as the ability to inhabit the bodies of their victims made them stronger. Armed with Forerunner technology and weapons, the Flood annihilated the Ascendant force on the Ringworld. They also, unfortunately, annihilated all the Forerunner they encountered.
"As I stated earlier, we are currently trying to land on the planet of Terra. Maybe we can start a new colony of Forerunner. Maybe we won’t survive. Maybe a Flood stowaway could mutate us into Flood. It doesn’t really matter anymore, anyway. We know that we will never see the planet of Gjeddan again; our ship is too damaged to go much further.
"To any who finds this, and has encountered the Ascendants: good luck."

Well, it was a message from a species connected with the Ascendant, I thought as I removed the chip from my helmet, It just wasn’t anything that could help us. But maybe, just maybe, there might be remains of the Forerunner ship.
Forerunner ship…. On ‘Terra’, or Earth as it is more commonly known….
We were Forerunner. That would explain it. The human race consists of the descendants of a Forerunner force that crashed on Earth! The Covenant were after us because this alien who conquered them ordered them to wipe out every Forerunner they found! They hated us because their ‘god’ hated us! I had to show this chip to Admiral Stygia! This would explain a lot about what the Covenant wanted to FLEETCOM. Of course, ONI wouldn’t like the fact that I, a soldier, had found this out before them….
Klaxons blared, red lights flashed, and a voice came up on the intercom.
"All hands to battlestations! I repeat, all hands to battlestations! This is not a drill. We have an inbound Covenant taskforce. Prepare to repel boarders. Ready the Longswords, and all Spartans, get those AIs ASAP."
Shit, I thought, the Covenant want this planet pretty badly. Morale hadn’t been very good lately, even with the new Spartans. The recent victories had improved it slightly, but this winning streak can’t keep going forever. I had to get to the Spartan commonroom before the Covenant reached it. Or worse, found out what was in there: the very reason why ex-marines could beat them this easily. AIs.



Ascendant Part VII
Date: 17 July 2002, 6:52 pm

Author's Note: Okay, so the last part probably wasn't so good. I hope this will make up for it, however. I've been having trouble writing lately, and it's good that I managed to type and edit this all in two nights. Hope you enjoy this one, y'all, and if you wanna give me any ideas for the next part, don't post 'em. Instead, give me a shout at my hotmail address. Makes for easier replies without disclosing info on my next chapter to the public before its time comes. Have fun!
       
      Here goes...
      6:35 a.m.
      Battlecruiser Bulldog
      Orbiting Human Held World of Summer, Engaging Attacking Covenant Fleet
      Commander Michael A. Sheener, Spartan #235, Mark VII
      Another fuel-rod blast hit the Titanium A barricade overhead. The shots had continued like this for the better part of three minutes. Who knew that on my way back to the commonroom, I'd encounter a pack of Hunters? The other Spartans obviously weren't making much progress. Even with the advanced training included inside the neural implant, there was still a scorched husk inside MJOLNIRNX armor lying to my right, a hole in the faceplate. I had had just about enough.
      I peeked to the right of where the last shot had hit. The Hunters seemed content just to sit there and shoot at me. Whatever empowered the creatures to have that kind of patience, I don't know. But I was growing very sick of it. Ducking another shot from one of the fuel-rod guns, I rolled to the left, and leaped 6 feet over the barricade. These muscular implants really are something!
      I had no gun. My phase rifle was back in the Spartan armories, on deck C42. I still had 3 decks of hell to get through if I wanted to blast these motherfuckers. So much for the long distance tactics.
      I ran towards the first hunter. It raised its shield, moving as if in slow motion. Too slow to dodge my right hand, knifing in towards the patch of exposed orange skin at its throat.
      Impact.
      The Hunter was dead milliseconds after I hit. I reached my other hand downwards, to grasp one of its armored legs. I lifted the whole fucking caboodle into the air, blocking several green fuel-rod shots from the other three Hunters. Swinging the massive armored corpse, I knocked another hunter into the wall. It was still moving, so I kicked it in the orange spot on its neck. Blood spattered the walls around it. Blocking several other shots, I turned to the two surviving Hunters. Adrenaline pumping the whole time, I didn't even realize that I was bashing two behemoths to death with a giant armored corpse.
      Chest heaving, I stopped. The two other Hunters lay dead at my feet, orange blood spattered all over the bulkheads. Ripping my right arm free from its gory grasp on the first Hunters spine, I looked the area over. No weapons to be used, but at least I had avenged my fallen comrade. I decided to make due with what was available to me, and ripped one of the Hunters arms off. I pulled the severed limb from its armored sheath, and dismantled the gauntlet. I took what I wanted: its shield.
      I looked myself over. I was covered in orange blood from head to toe, but I could still see the scorch mark from when the Ascendant sent me flying into the console. No wounds that I could see, I headed off down the corridor.
      I made it down another deck before I encountered another group of Covenant. A squad of elites and grunts were massacring a squad of marines behind a barricade much like the one I had sought shelter behind earlier. I noticed another couple of Spartans among the marines, wielding the inaccurate MA5B assault rifles used by regular forces.
      Leaping past Covenant plasma fire, I rolled behind the barricade, just in time to catch a falling marine, a plasma burn in his shoulder. The poor lad was in shock, and as usual, his wound had cauterized with the plasma. Pushing him towards the squad medic, I quickly policed his unneeded weapons. The marine was armed with a double-edged combat knife, a pistol, an MA5B, and two fragmentation grenades. He also had several clips for both firearms.
      Tucking the clips and knife into various shielded holsters on my armor, I hefted the AR and pistol simultaneously. Standing, I took note of the ammo count for the current clip. I was at 39 rounds for my AR, but at full for my pistol. I figured that I had better remember that. I targeted the Elite first. For some reason, the marines were contenting themselves to destroy the lesser evil, the Grunts. I, however immediately targeted the commander, knowing from past experience that when the Elite dies, the Grunts run.
      Firing my AR, I managed to bring the Elites shields down. I must have been lucky. I then put a hole in the Elites skull with the high caliber round from my pistol. He stood for several seconds, as Elites often do when they die, and then fell limply to the ground. Upon seeing the death of their commander, the Grunts turned and fled. All were cut down by fire from myself and my fellow Spartans. My shield was still slung across my back, unused.
      Turning back towards my fellow Spartans, I motioned for them to follow. We worked our way slowly across the deck to the next turbolift. All turbolifts between decks were separated to slow Covenant movement across the ship. It took too long. For all I knew, the Covvies could already be smashing Archangels chip to pieces.
      Upon reaching the next deck down, we entered a safe zone. The place was bustling with Spartans. Men and women in MJOLNIRNX armor handed out phase rifles to everyone. Another group of Spartans crossed the floor handing out small metal chips to everyone, according to names on chips and HUDs. I noticed a computer terminal in the corner that looked like it had been torn from the wall. It probably had, knowing the strength and need of my fellow Spartans. I received my chip gratefully, and slid it into my helmet. The cool sensation that announced Archangels presence hit me like a refreshing spring breeze.
      "Long time, no see, Mike. You didn't forget about me, did you?"
      "Nah, just spending some time with my new friends."
      "I see you have a Hunters shield. Rough party?"
      "Hell yeah. Lets get a gun, some ammo, and a couple more grenades. After that, we can worry about the Hunters, okay?"
      "Got it."
      I walked to the 'supply personnel', and received my phase rifle. I reached deep into my ammo pouches, and emptied them of MA5B clips. I took a double handful of phase rifle clips, and secreted them about my armor. I then grabbed a battery, slapped it in, and charged my gun. Soon after, I slowly made my way down the line to the shield charging station.
      It took me the better part of 15 minutes to get there. I stepped into the yellow square, and watched as the yellow bars began to rotate. I really hate yellow. It moves too fast. However unpleasant, I achieved the desired result. My shields charged, and I strode to the turbolift.
      I grabbed a couple of lower ranking Spartans on my way out. I knew which ones to grab by the warding aura of shields around their bodies. I then made my way with my new squad to the deck where I left the Hunters.
      The others were amazed to see that I had killed 4 Hunters singlehandedly, without a gun. Two of the braver ones tore the shields off the corpses, and clipped them to their arms. I did likewise.
      "Hey, Mike, wouldn't it be a good idea to head for the bridge? Not many of the Spartans are up in that direction, and the Covvies will probably head that way, anyway."
      "Good idea." I switched to the squads comm channel. "Listen up, kiddos. We're gonna go to the bridge. The fighting's probably heaviest that way, so anyone too scared to go can leave for the base camp."
      No one left. A chorus of 'lets kick some ass' came up on the comm.
      I knew that the road ahead of our squad would be tough, and I'd most likely lose a couple squadmates to Covenant fire, but I felt confident that we'd prevail, and save the bridge crew.



Ascendant Part VIII
Date: 26 July 2002, 11:54 pm

Authors Note: Don’t expect another part for a while. I’m trying to get this done in under 10 parts, so that means long nights, typing fast, and hoping that you all have patience to read all of what I write. And to add on to that, I’m trying to pull a group of writers together, to organize some ideas, and hoping fervently that Louis will put up with all of us rookies and our work.
      I’d also like to let you know about the MR8B ‘Phase’ Rifle. Some may think that it merely charges the bullet, and this is a major assumption. I actually have gotten emails about this. Anyway, it looks like the MA5B in the fact that it loads and fires just like it. However, about halfway from the chamber, there’s the slot for the battery. It’s a tube with blue plasma inside it, and slides in to become part of the barrel. When the bullet passes through it, the plasma collects on it. THEN it flies out. It does NOT charge the bullet. The plasma collects on it, but doesn’t charge it; the bullet is treated with a plasma retardant coating. And just so that you know, it’s not automatic, it’s an auto-loading weapon, yes, but it does not have an automatic fire option. So don’t email me anymore about it.
      Anyways, to the story…
       
      
      Battlecruiser Bulldog
      Orbiting the Human-Held World of Summer
      7:12 a.m.
      Commander Michael A. Sheener, Spartan #235, mark VII
       
      Tommy 122 kicked the door in. I came in high, Leah 317 came in low. The Grunts never knew what hit them. My squad had sprinted halfway towards the next corridor before the Grunts’ guts settled on the table.
      So far we had regained about 12 decks. However, new Covenant assault ships docked and offloaded troops at random intervals, so we didn’t know if our fellow Spartans had managed to hold the decks we took. Still, everything would be alright when we reached the bridge.
      The lights dimmed as the Bulldog fired off another MAC heavy round. This had continued for the better part of an hour. From what I could tell, the battle between the Human and Covenant fleets was running fairly well; we were still alive. However, we occasionally felt the shudder of an impact from a pulse laser burst on the 8 meter thick Titanium A armor plating around the ship.
      As we rounded the corner, plasma bursts came in high. The Covenant elites we found were obviously expecting us. Rolling to the left to avoid fire, I opened up with a fresh 30 round clip. Several high caliber rounds with the distinctive bluish glow of plasma surrounding them impacted on Covenant shields, which quickly faltered, making way for the rounds of my squadmates. Lead-filled craters lined the blue armor of the elites before we stood and moved onward. I noticed that Joshua 214 had a limp and a burn on his leg, but I said nothing. He probably was administering the in-suit medical system as I thought.
      We arrived at the bridge doors several hours later. The MAC bursts had stopped about 43 minutes before we made it. Maybe we had won. Maybe the MAC system was destroyed. I decided that I would ask when we made it through the Titanium A blast door that sealed off the turbolift to the bridge deck.
      We all shouldered our phase rifles, and found a good handhold on the blast doors. As one, we pulled apart. It took the better part of three minutes to pull the friggin’ hunkajunk doors apart. The turbolift was far below us, in locking position, to prevent access to the bridge. We decided to go up the cables.
      Swinging aloft on a turbolift cable is not the easiest thing to do. In fact, it’s not easy at all. There are very few holds to grab on the shaft to steady yourself, and the titanium cables that support the turbolift chafed my armor a little bitwhen I slid. Not fun at all.
      Upon reaching the doors into the bridge, I put my ear to the wall. I couldn’t hear a thing, even with the increased hearing ability my suit provided.
      "Maybe they’re taking a breather," stated Archangel.
      "Maybe they’re all dead," said Leah’s AI, Direwolf.
      "Maybe they all ran off to get married to Covenant priests," said Tommy’s AI sarcastically. When we all looked at Tommy, his AI, Boxer, said nervously, "Hey, it could happen, couldn’t it?"
      I ordered the AIs to shut up unless they had some sort of useful information to add. I aimed for a better listening point, and when I couldn’t find one, I decided to bust the doors open. We all gathered ‘round, and pulled the doors awkwardly apart. It, surprisingly, didn’t take much effort, and we tore them off their hinges with ease.
      However, when we went to look inside we stared down the muzzles of Covenant plasma rifles and needlers instead of the MA5Bs and M202s of the marines. Oh shit. We’ve lost, was the first thought to run through my head.
      Blue fire immediately consumed my shields, and I jumped down the turbolift shaft. I aimed for the cables, but the sparks flying off my glove on impact threw my grip off, and I ended up flipping over somehow, heading down the shaft face first.
      Just when I thought it was the end of the line, Leah somehow grabbed my leg, and pulled me along as she skidded to a stop on the cables.
      Once again, a hail of plasma rained downwards, and Leah flung me through the hole in the lower turbolift shaft doors before jumping through herself. All my team had survived except for Joshua. His limp was worse than we thought, and when he tried to jump, he tripped, fell down, and died upon impact on the roof of the turbolift far below.
      Somehow, the Covenant had taken the bridge, and now had full control of the ship. We had no way to stop them. All of our fears came true; we were completely at the mercy of the Covenant. They now had access to the entire ships systems. They could vent the atmosphere, and kill all the humans on those decks. They could raise or lower temperatures, effectively making us broiled Spartan for dinner, with marinesicles for desert. And the Covvies would most likely have access to everything in mere hours.
       
      12:43 p.m.
      Battlecruiser Bulldog
      Orbiting the Human Held(?) World of Summer
      Commander Michael A. Sheener, Spartan #235, Mark VII
       
      We had successfully overrode the Covenant access to bridge controls. A couple of techs for the SPARTAN III project were aboard, and had hacked control away from the bridge. All systems were now available in the cargo bay on deck D12, our new makeshift bridge and basecamp.
      As I strolled past the weapons lockers, Archangel commented, "I have a feeling that we’re gonna need all that firepower."
      "I was just thinking the same thing."
      And I was. The marine and Spartan emplacements across the ship were constantly under attack. I had just arrived for some R&R from the cafeteria deck. The fighting was heaviest towards the bridge, and the enemy had somehow gotten a Shade turret into the ship, and had our forces pinned down for a while. A grenade made short work of the cannon, and saved a goodly sum of marines, hiding behind durasteel tables.
      Watching the troops, I saw how low morale was. We had lost three decks to overwhelming amounts of Covenant. Grunts baying, charging down the hallways, Jackals crawling the air ducts, Elites barking orders and sawing down marines with plasma swords. And worst of all, Hunters vaporizing entire squads with one burst. The troops we had were too few in number in comparison to the Covenants seemingly endless army.
      About a ½ hour ago, the Comm officer had gotten in contact with one of the other Battlecruisers, and had found that the battle outside the ship was won. However, the Covvies made a point of melting their hangar doors shut so that Pelicans couldn’t be deployed to help us out. The enemy wanted this ship, and they wanted it badly.
      A young marine sat on a crate cleaning his MA5B. The haunted look in his eyes and his almost mechanical motions brought me back to the present. The young man looked as though his best friend, mother, and siblings had just been killed in front of him. I recognized him as one of the marines I played paintball with earlier. Private Jonuran if I remembered correctly. From the 3rd squad, ‘Upfront Assassins’ platoon.
      I asked him what was wrong. He told me that his squad had been on one of the decks that we lost. He was the only one in his platoon who made it back. Others might still be alive, but it was unlikely. I knew it, and so did he. He represented everything that was wrong here: Undertrained, underaged, and almost in shock. The morale wasn’t going to hold out much longer. We needed a victory, or to get off this ship, one of the two nearly impossible as we had lost the hangars to the Covenant about 40 minutes ago.
      Another young marine came running, best he could, into the base camp. The poor man was burnt from fire, plasma, and nearly exhausted on top of it all. He was lucky to have lived this long. He headed straight for the ranking officer: me. I was the first to hear the bad news.
      "Sir, we just lost the Cafeteria. We would have held out, and we had the Covvies on the run, when something showed up. It was all orange and glowing, with these nasty-looking eyes that peered right into your soul. He just motioned, and half the front rank disappeared into flames! Sir, it looks like your ‘Ascendant’ is aboard, and he’s one cranky guest!"
      Things just got a whole lot worse. Hell had just arrived, and everyone in earshot knew it.
       
      3:56 p.m.
      Battlecruiser Bulldog
      Orbiting the Human Held(?) World of Summer
      Commander Michael A. Sheener, Spartan #235, Mark VII
       
      
      The warthog looked brand new. The chain gun didn’t have the scorched barrels common to the veteran vehicles caused by heat. The synthesized leather seats still smelled of the factory that made them, and the armor didn’t have the scorches caused by plasma burns. In every way, it was perfect. However, the way we were gonna treat this baby, it wouldn’t stay that way for long.
      Several Warthog combat jeeps had been brought up from deep storage in the cargo bays we controlled. They were originally intended to help secure the base we planned to set up on the surface. However, before High Command could get the orders for the go ahead to us, the Covvies attacked, and we were forced to retaliate. We now planned to use them to recapture the ship we were trapped in.
      The Covenant had taken another four decks while we prepared, and many marines had lost their lives trying to defend them. We had decided that we were using the wrong tactics, and decided to follow the Covenants idea of bringing in heavier weapons. The Warthogs would be driven and manned by Spartans, as the marines’ minimal armor was insufficient to stop the hail of plasma the enemy would be raining on us. However, our improved MJOLNIRNX armor would easily stand up to the beating. We hoped.
      Leaping aboard the gunner’s seat in my Warthog, I motioned for my men, Tommy and Leah, to take their places as passenger and driver, respectively. When they were ready, we led the charge down the halls to the vehicle lifts.
      The lifts led down a shaft to the cargo bays on the Covenant controlled decks. Hopefully, the enemy hadn’t found any use for crates of food and ammunition, and left the bays alone. If not, we could still continue, but the element of surprise would be lost.
      Upon reaching the cargo bay on the target floor, we rolled off the massive vehicle lift into a cavernous room, filled with crates, Warthogs, and the occasional Scorpion Main Battle Tank. We decided that these vehicles would be our emergency stash, if we required it. We could always run out of ammo in our chain guns, or clips for our phase rifles, for that matter. The more, the merrier.
      We quickly moved to the door to the cargo bay. With the touch of a button, the massive Titanium A blast doors opened to expose-
      -nothing but empty hallway.
      Something wasn’t right, but I couldn’t quite place what it was. I ordered Leah, who was driving, to proceed cautiously. I hoped that the enemy didn’t have any surprises rigged.
      As the group of Warthogs fanned out into the hallways, I ordered one to stay behind, and keep the place secure for us in case of the event that we were forced to retreat. The remaining Warthogs and their squads of three moved down the hallways to perform their objectives. We were to head to the fallen Cafeteria zone.
      We drove down the hallway, our new engine purring like a pussycat. I doubted that the Covvies knew we were coming. We occasionally encountered Grunts, Jackals, and the odd Elite, but that was pretty much it for the enemy. I began to suspect that something was afoot. But it wasn’t until we reached the Cafeteria itself that I knew for sure.
      We rode into the caf, expecting to find Grunts and Jackals feasting on dead marines, claiming new prizes for themselves, such as helmets, and pretty much being the good old dumb enemies we were used to. However, what we encountered wasn’t what we expected in the least. Tables were overturned and melted. Bodies littered the room, human and Covenant alike. Grunts were piled in a gruesome wall 10 feet away from the tables. The humans were mainly behind the tables. But what really scared me wasn’t the fact that they were all dead, and there were no live Covenant around. What scared me were the familiar burn marks that marred the bodies of every one of their features into oblivion. Very familiar burn marks. Ones that I had seen a few weeks earlier, covering the bodies of the humans in Covenant cryopods, doomed to never wake up. Burns caused by the Covenant god-like figure. The marine hadn’t lied.
      The Ascendant was here.
      And it was obviously taking matters into its own hands.
      I called in to the other Warthogs, demanding a report. All of them called in, except for one. The team I had left to guard our cargo bay, and our back door out of here, didn’t respond. Where the turbolift shaft was located that led directly into the heart of our base camp. I refused to acknowledge that there was a chance that the radio had failed; the Warthogs were brand new. The Covenant had finally made it through our lines.
      And so had the Ascendant.
      We were all that was left.
       
      4:08 P.M.
      Battlecruiser Bulldog
      Orbiting Human Held(?) Planet of Summer
      Commander Michael A. Sheener, Spartan Mark VII, #235
       
      The Warthog was nothing more than a pile of charred and twisted metal. The dust and grime covering the floor had the impressions of hundreds of Covenant footprints. The bodies of the fallen Spartans were barely visible through the melted debris of the Warthog; so much for backup from the basecamp. The enemy had probably already destroyed it, and slaughtered the Humans inside.
      We had only one choice, to get off the ship, and find a way to destroy it. However, we would have to remove the ship’s AI from the bridge, so that the enemy wouldn’t have access to any more info before the ship’s destruction. Besides, the UNSD needed every ship AI they could get. Due to the heavy concentration of the enemy in that direction, grabbing the chip wouldn’t be easy.
      Nervously gripping my Phase Rifle, I looked in the direction of the cargo bay, and tried to decide what to do next. As I was the ranking officer, I would have to think fast, and try not to make my troops nervous. What to do? I decided to take the Warthogs to the bridge.
      "Okay, Spartans, uh… We’re going to try to retake the bridge. The AI is our main objective, and secondary to that is getting the hell outta here. Of course, any ideas on how to defeat the Ascendant would be much appreciated. I mean that. It may come after us."
      A chorus of ‘Yes sir!’ quickly followed. Archangel decided that he would review the disc, still in my helmet, for any clues as to how to defeat the Ascendant. I turned to my Warthog, and leaped the 5 feet into the air required to enter the gunner’s seat without climbing. I grabbed the chaingun controls, and yelled, "Lets roll!" One of the Spartans slid a disc from his pocket into the dashboard of his Warthog. He turned a dial, and out blasted the theme from an ancient video game called ‘HALO’. It suited the mood perfectly.
      Turning back to the corridor, I gave the order, "We’ve got a lot to do. Move out!"



Ascendant Part IX: The End of the Beginning
Date: 28 August 2002, 4:39 pm

Author's Note: It sure did take a while, but this is it! I did it! I finished the Ascendant series! And better still, I made it under my 10 part mark! For all of you who wished for more, I'm sorry, but this seems to be it for the Ascendant series. However, if you like Knightmare Wolf's and spartan415's work, you're in for a treat, as the three of us have come together to begin a series hopefully worth reading. Anyone who wishes more of this kind of stuff from me, feel free to jump with joy (j/k), as I am actually considering starting another series. I thank you all for the support you have shown throughout my career as a fanfiction writer thus far, and I hope you continue to read in the future. Now, for what you've been reading through these self-congratulations for: Here's Part 9 of Ascendant!
 

Battlecruiser Bulldog

Orbiting Human-Held World of Summer
7:59 P.M.
Commander Michael A. Sheener, Spartan Mark VII, #235
The sounds of combat roared through my ears: the sounds of the chaingun, the gunner's yells of fury and pain, and the familiar burst sound of plasma rifles.
"Take this, bastards!" yelled the gunner at the door. We were trapped in the cafeteria several hundred meters from the bridge turbolift doors. A large group of Elites had blocked our path, and now assaulted the Warthog we had positioned in the door to act as a barricade.
A glowing ball flew up and attached itself to the Spartan gunner, who screamed and promptly threw herself into the mob of bloodthirsty Elites at the business end of the Warthogs chaingun. An explosion later, another Spartan was in the gunner's seat, contentedly blasting away at the remaining Elites. Seeking cover, they had no chance against the high caliber rounds pumped out of the chaingun. We all piled over the Warthog and sprinted the last hundred meters toward the bridge doors.
As we reached it, however, a pack of Grunts rushed down the corridor behind us. Strangely, they wielded plasma rifles instead of pistols. Several silver-armored Special Ops Grunts with their fuel-rod cannons followed swiftly behind.
We knew we had no chance against those numbers and firepower, and with no cover available, we turned to face the onrushing enemy. Strangely, they didn't make it halfway to us before they were all cut down. The Grunts fell to many bursts of red energy, closely resembling phase rifle rounds. We knew the Humans didn't possess firepower of that magnitude, as the shots were far more powerful and accurate than we currently had.
Glancing behind the falling Grunts, we saw several willowy humanlike creatures, with armor resembling that of the Human Marine, without the plating. They stood shouldering odd looking rifles, and with looks of determination, cut down the Grunts with cruel efficiency. As soon as they were done, however, they promptly ran down the corridor behind them, vanishing as abruptly as they had appeared. One stayed for a few moments, waiting long enough to yell to us in an odd accent, "Good luck, Spaar-Taans!" After yelling this, he too was gone, leaving behind the impression of speed and efficiency.
"Mike, I recognize those soldiers!" Archangel cried, "they were in the medallion's video, running behind that man in the foreground at odd intervals!"
"You mean that they were Forerunner?!"
"Yes! Or at least a species allied with them. They seemed to be the Special Forces of the Forerunner army, because whenever they run by, the other soldiers saluted them!"
"And you noticed that? Archangel, you really come in handy sometimes."
"Why, thank you. Now, get to the bridge, and retrieve that AI."
Not to let any new aliens slow us down, we turned back to the mangled turbolift doors. The doors had obviously seen fighting long after my squad had finished opening them. I wondered briefly if the Forerunner-allied aliens who killed the Grunts did this. Casting my thoughts aside, I grabbed the cable, and began hauling myself up the shaft. Upon reaching the top, I noticed with happiness that the Elites who were guarding it earlier had abandoned the bridge when we overrode its control of the ship. I promptly strolled over to the holotanks, and removed a small cube. I secured it in one of many shielded pocket-like containers on my armor, and as I turned to face the door, something caught my eye on the viewscreen.
It was a ship.
I could have sworn I had seen it before, but it was of no design familiar to the UNSC, or it would have been included in my implant. It was smaller than the smallest UNSC capitol ship, smaller than most Covenant capitol ships as well. Its sleek gray hull was marred only by streaks of an unknown material, tinged a forest green. It looked strangely familiar, yet entirely alien at the same time.
I figured that it was the ship of the strange allies of the Forerunner, and I wanted to get away from those creatures. Forerunner or not, the Human race didn't need anymore aliens to contend with at the moment.
"Okay guys, we're getting the hell out of here. To hell with this Ascendant. I want out!"
Most of the other troops agreed with me. Several wanted to stay and search for survivors in the former basecamp, but were easily persuaded otherwise. No one knew exactly what it was the drove me to this, and I didn't plan to tell them, but something happened that changed that plan.
A smoking ball of blue flew through the open turbolift doors. It landed fairly close to me, and as I started to run away, it exploded, propelling me across the deck. My consciousness got confused as to whether it was awake or asleep and my mind was flooded with another memory. And on the viewscreen, at that same moment, two of the smaller stripes on the odd ship began to glow a hot white.
"Dammit, hurry up with that! I want that nuke armed pronto!"
"Sir, with all due respect, we can't arm it any faster!"
"Look, we know we won't make it if it doesn't arm within the next minute. This old technology doesn't seem to work the way it should, does it?"
The display on the warhead changed, and a small status light came up on the screen. It had successfully armed.
"Sir, it's up and running! This should give that Ascendant something to think about. On the road to Hell, that is!"
The Ascendant stepped through the door of the dark room. It motioned, and immediately the officer burst into flames. He screamed, and fell into a heap of charcoal as the flames, focused entirely on him, died. The Ascendant turned to the next soldier. He, too, burst into flames, but didn't get the time to scream.
I pressed the button on the detonator before I could think about anything else.
"That's it! That's the key! Sorry boys, but the trip to the docking bay will have to wait!"
A series of 'huh, what?', 'but you said-.', and 'you changed your mind again?' echoed among the remaining Spartans. I quickly explained what would happen, while several of the others blew the newly arrived grunts downstairs into mincemeat. Several smiled that their officer had come through for them and got another idea for survival, others liked the idea, feeling that it would better benefit the Human race. Another two congratulated me on surviving yet another grenade blast.
I looked up at the viewscreen and noticed that the ships streaks' light was fading. One of the Spartans started to look up, but I quickly pressed the button for the port camera, and static came onto the screen. No need to alarm the troops, right?
I turned back to the door of the turbolift, and slid down the cables. Several Grunts standing at the doors saw me and raised their pistols, but not before I squeezed off several shots with my phase rifle and blew their heads into mush. As I secured the area, the remaining Spartans slid down the cables, and we all headed back to the cafeteria. Upon reaching it, we slid into the comfortable leather seats of our Warthogs, and roared off towards the cargo bay vehicle lifts. Lifts that would take us down to the deck with the missile launch bays.
 
11:09 P.M.

Battlecruiser Bulldog

 
We finally arrived at the missile launch bays, our secondlast destination on this cursed wreck. In the aftermath of the battles we fought through on this 'ship', the original number of 349 Spartans decreased to only 74. I began to wonder if this was all worth it, sacrificing lives like a rich man spends money.
I ordered a Spartan with tech skills to open the door to our target. We planned to activate a Shiva Nuclear Warhead, to detonate it once we were off the ship. Knowing that it would most likely destroy the Ascendant, we hoped to arm it and blow it before our alien enemy could get to an escape route, as it would most likely find out about our plan, seeing as we destroyed many enemy scouts on the way. Already the Covenant sent against us seemed almost too much to handle. We obviously expected to see the Ascendant soon.
As the doors swung inwards, 8 Spartans rolled around the corner, covering all available angles. Seeing no Covenant inside, I assumed that they had merely disregarded this room as another cargo bay. Thankfully, the Bulldog hadn't fired off its compliment of 3 Shiva warheads. I immediately ordered a team to arm a nuke, and jury-rig it to blow at the touch of a button. After a period of 15 minutes had passed, a short Spartan walked up to me and handed me a combination of parts, a powerful antenna, and a switch, all held together with Duct Tape (some things never die). Looking at the hodgepodge detonator incredulously, I took it, strapped it to my belt, and thanked the Spartan.
"Archangel, give me a nav point for the hangars. I uh, haven't been down here before-."
"Alright. Jeez, if only Spartans had brains instead of muscle- they might think to explore-."
An orange diamond popped up on my HUD, at 804 meters slightly left of the left corner of the room. As I prepared to order my troops to move out, a grunt ran around the corner. Acting on instinct, I shot it twice in the torso with my phase rifle, but the shots alerted the Covenant on their way. And even worse, it alerted the Ascendant, travelling with them.
As the enemy swooped in through the doors, my ragged company opened fire with their phase rifles, some even making it to their Warthog chainguns. Myself, I brought down a good 3 Elites before making a break for my Warthog. As I shouted for the Spartans to get into the vehicles and fight their way through, Archangel spoke up.
"Mike, you'd better hall ass big time if you wanna make it outta here alive. Guess who's coming? And you know what? It doesn't seem to like us!"
Acting on Archangel's news, I ordered the Warthog drivers to mow clean through the approaching Covenant army. As the Warthogs began to drive through, knocking Jackals and Grunts into the air left and right, the Ascendant entered the room, and headed directly for the Warthog to my right. As we drove past, the Ascendant motioned, and the other Warthog and its passengers burst into flames. The screams haunted me as my Warthog finally pulled out of the room, last in the line, heading directly for the docking bay.
Elites and the slightly slower Jackals ran after us, firing weapons, and throwing plasma grenades. One grenade attached itself to the Warthog we pulled up beside just as Jackals shot the gunner and driver to death. As the explosion shook my seat at the chaingun, I heard another death scream, fearing that the next one I heard would be my own.
Firing with abandon, I watched in satisfaction as I mowed down enemy after enemy, but growing increasingly afraid as they kept coming. Strangely, the enemy could keep up with the Warthogs. I guessed that the 'magickal' Ascendant was granting this ability, as an Elite or Jackal was normally far slower than the Warthog ATV.
As we entered the docking bay, several soldiers in a Warthog to the right screamed as the vehicle beneath them blew to pieces, sending their shrapnel-ridden bodies into the air. As I dodged a shard of metal from the flaming hulk, I noticed that several of the Pelican dropships inside the ship were missing. However, I judged that there were just enough to fit the remaining 65-
-Make that 59 Spartans. Two Warthogs near the back of the pack burst into flames as the demonic Ascendant raced into the room and swept its arm past them. Again, I felt a severe blow as their screams of agony ripped from their throats, as they were effectively boiled alive inside their armor. Yelling in frustration, I ripped off a series of shots aimed at the monstrous Ascendant.
The chaingun fired, then clicked dry.
I yelled again in anger as I watched the rounds pass nearly through the Ascendant before melting in the living flames of the creature. I understood now why the Forerunner had such difficulty fighting this species: they were immune to bullets, and nuclear energy would likely be the only thing to harm them.
I nearly laughed aloud as the Warthog swerved to a halt beside a Pelican. I jumped from the useless chaingun, and ran aboard as 13 other Spartans followed me. Running directly for the cockpit as soldiers strapped in behind me, I heard the sounds of another Warthog exploding from outside the closing doors of our salvation. I could only hope that others would make it off this accursed ship.
I initiated the startup sequence with Archangel's help, and proceeded to slide his chip into the computer, from where he activated the hangar bay doors. Archangel activated a new squad favorite from the databanks, the theme of the ancient game, HALO. As the monstrous titanium plates slid apart, the oxygen inside the docking bay was sucked into the vacuum, causing all the Covenant troops outside our ship to either fall over clutching their throats and chests, be sucked out the waiting maw of the massive hangar doors, or to explode in a gory mess all over the dying soldiers beside them.
As the doors to the wondrous outer space slid, finally, to their open positions, we saw, to our horror, one of the Pelicans burst into hellish flames. The Ascendant obviously hadn't been sucked outside like so many of the Covenant troops, and was still very, very angry with the descendants of the Forerunner. I immediately yanked the radio into its active position, and ordered the other Pelicans outside. As the 3 others rose into the air, another Pelican exploded into a brief flare of light as the oxygen, and the soldiers, inside of it ignited. I watched in triumph, however, as we roared out of the docking bay into the limitless expanses of space.
As soon as we had left, however, the Ascendant motioned again, and this time, to shocked replies, one of the 2 other surviving Battlecruisers exploded. How could anything be so immensely powerful? It was insane!
Strangely, its voice sounded inside our ship. I wasn't the only one to here the rasping, unearthly sound; all of the Spartans aboard from the copilot and myself to the one sitting closest to the doors shuddered as it began.
"You cannot escape me, Forerunner! You may be able to hide, but you will not escape! There is no way! I will burn you as I will burn your entire species!" Motioning again, the other Battlecruiser exploded into flames. To my surprise, I felt strangely calm as I looked to the dying inferno that was the ship known as Rose Thorn.
As we neared the edge of the nuke's detonation range, I ordered Archangel to tap into the Bulldog's comm system. I wanted to deliver a final message to our nemesis. As I flicked the radio switch again, the other surviving Pelican burst into flames. According to Archangel afterwards, even through my helmet's visor, my eyes burned with a fury more powerful than that of our dying comrade's ship. They burned with an intensity that shocked even the AI, a data construct without emotion as I spoke the last words the evil fire daemon would ever hear.
"Burn this, asshole."
I pressed the nuke's detonator.
 
Time Unknown
Location Unknown, believed to be Planet of Summer
Commander Michael A. Sheener, SPARTAN III Mark VII, #235
Blackness. I was swimming in a tunnel of blackness.
As I swam through it, I saw in the distance a pinprick, no, a near microscopic dot, of light slowly appear.
I heard the echo of a voice. I couldn't quite place it, but I knew it. It drew me to it.
As I swam slowly through the darkness that was my own thoughts, I saw the light grow larger. I worked my way towards it, at a crawl. My limbs hurt, and my head couldn't seem to clear. I battled weariness as I worked towards the inviting warmth of the light. As I fought for what seemed like hours, I saw the light grow steadily larger. I was in my own head, looking out from my eyes from a distance. I could see my- HUD?- and a control panel beyond my visor. I could tell even from this distance that I was slumped sideways upon the controls of a Pelican dropship, a voice coming from it, urging me onwards to consciousness.
It was Archangel.
Even through all this, he had waited for me, calling me, encouraging me to wake up out of this swamp of my own head, filled with darkness.
I obliged willingly. I slid into my body again, joyful to be able to feel all of my parts again, every one of them. I could hear some music playing from the control panel, something I remembered, something I had listened to before. I remembered it to be that tune from the famed 21st century 'video game', HALO.
I was sprawled out over the controls. A small pool of my own blood sat in the side of my helmet, my head hurting like a sledgehammer hit me. As I sat up, Archangel cried out in joy, an unthinkable thing for an AI, unless it was- a smart AI. ONI really did love us!
As the scene set in, I realized that the nose of the Pelican was buried in the ground, several alarms going off. I pulled Archangel's chip out of the dashboard, and slid it into my helmet. As I slowly stood, bracing myself, I was filled in on the events of the previous day. I was out a whole day!
I immediately asked after the Ascendant. Archangel answered that by all accounts, it was destroyed.
"Lets get you patched up and fed. The others are setting up a camp outside," he said.
"Sounds like a plan. Do you know what happened to that Forerunner ship, though? I know you saw it when I did. And I didn't see it after we left the Bulldog," I responded slowly.
"I spotted it hovering on the outskirts of the system. I don't think they'll cause much trouble, however. It's all through; they were caught in the nuke's shockwave, like us. They're too damaged to do anything to us. But the Ascendant- it's finished. That's all that matters, right?"
"No, Archangel. I think that this is just the beginning. Just the beginning, my friend-."
 
The End

Or is it?





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