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The End of a War by Mr. Clark
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The End of a War - Prologue
Date: 5 February 2005, 9:45 PM
The End of a War
A Halo-based piece of FanFiction written by Mr. Clark
A/N: Just a quick side-note, this takes place following the end of the Halo 2 video game, so if you haven't played the game and want to keep all the wonderful story developments unspoiled, then don't read this.
Prologue
The Beginning...um...Actually the Middle
Tartarus swung his massive battle hammer in a wide arc, slamming it onto the ground a hairs-breadth away from where the Arbiter stood. Snarling viciously, Tartarus pivoted his feet and leaned his shoulder downwards. Moving faster than his bulk would suggest he was capable of, he slammed into the Elite and sent him crashing into one of large structures that were littered about in the chamber. Following through, he used his forward momentum, charged the hammer, and thrust it towards the fallen Elite.
The Arbiter felt the distortion the energy peeling off Tartarus' hammer a moment before it discharged. Grasping a human firing weapon in his left hand he pushed off the ground and threw himself to the right, saving himself from being slammed into the stone monument when the influx of energy impacted. Shaking the cobwebs from his head, the Arbiter grabbed his bearings and slowly regarded the leader of the Brutes.
That hammer Tartarus touted was powerful enough to not only send him flying across the chamber with one good hit, but it was also emitting a shield that protected the Brute from harm. The Arbiter was confident he could defeat Tartarus simply by outsmarting him, but that would take time, something he did not have much of. The Holy Ring was almost ready to fire, which would mean the deaths of every single organism capable of sustaining the parasite. There would be no time for outsmarting Tartarus once that happened.
The Arbiter caught sight of several Elites preparing to jump onto the structure that held Tartarus and himself. The others that had faced Tartarus already had been beaten down by the Brutes' hammer, a fate he did not wish to see bestowed upon anyone else.
"Hold your positions!" the Arbiter bellowed in his native tongue. The Elites stopped their charge and stared down at the Arbiter in confusion. Satisfied that they would not join the battle, the Arbiter turned his gaze on the human soldier, the one that had piloted the Scarab. He held a Jackal Rifle in his hands. The weapon was powerful enough to pierce any shielding ever created, but it required a steady hand and a light touch.
"Human, do you know how to use that gun?" the Arbiter shouted at Sergeant Johnson. Despite the situation, Johnson felt a smirk light up his face.
"Let me tell you something Mr. Arbiter," he said sarcastically, "there isn't a weapon known to mankind that I don't know how to shoot. I've hit the wings off Drones with this little number in my sleep!"
The Arbiter returned his gaze to Tartarus, who was preparing to charge once again.
"Then show me."
Tartarus shouted once again as he rushed towards the Arbiter. Before either could comprehend what was happening, three plasma shots raced by, slamming into Tartarus' chest. The white shield that had once covered his body faded, and the Arbiter's brain kicked into gear.
The Brute had yet to stop his charge, and was within a few feet from the Arbiter when he swung. Ducking swiftly, the Arbiter avoided the hammer, brought the human pump-handled weapon to bear, and waited for Tartarus to close the gap between them. Bringing the shotgun up, he pressed it against the Brute's thick chest and fired.
Brutes were known for their muscle density. A rampaging Brute could take a whole clip from a human sub-machine gun and keep going. There had even been reports that some Brutes had survived after being hit by a human land-roving vehicle at speeds that would render all other species incapacitated.
None of that mattered, for the one weapon that the humans continued to use with dominance against the Covenant in close quarter fighting held up to its reputation. Two buck-shot rounds entered the Brute's chest cavity and promptly made a mess before exiting out its backside.
Tartarus felt his grip weaken on his hammer, and dropped it as he fell forward. Before he could collapse on top of the Arbiter, the Elite fell onto his back and brought his legs up, kicking the Brute up and over himself to land roughly, and several feet away. Tartarus managed a strangled curse before he felt the light begin to fade and finally disappear altogether.
The Arbiter slowly got off the ground, his legs burning from the exertion of lifting Tartarus. He leaned against one of the tall structures in an attempt to catch his breath. It was a moment before he remembered that he had killed Tartarus for a reason, a big reason. Snapping his gaze to the collecting energy in the center of the chamber, the Arbiter saw the female human leap down upon the firing mechanism and remove the Icon. A sigh of relief escaped him, until he felt the control room begin to tremble.
'Were we too late?' The thought resonated through the Arbiter's mind when the chamber began to shake violently, throwing him off his feet. As quickly as it came, the disturbance left, leaving only silence inside the control room. Where the human had removed the Icon, was now a hologram of some sorts.
"What's that?" the female human asked the Oracle.
"A beacon," it responded simply.
"What's it doing?" the female questioned.
"Communicating at super luminous speeds."
"With what?"
"The other installations."
The Arbiter felt his head throb as he slowly got to
his feet. He started over to where the two humans and the Oracle stood.
"The other installations are now prepared for remote activation," the Oracle explained in response to something the humans had asked.
"From here?" the female asked.
"Don't be ridiculous," the Oracle replied in a patronizing tone. That seemed to get the human soldier riled up.
"Listen tinkerbell, don't make me-" his response was cut off by the human female as she waved him off.
"Then where? Where would someone go if they wanted to activate the other rings?"
"Why, the Ark of course," the Oracle replied as if it was supposed to be common knowledge. The Arbiter walked between the two humans and regarded the Oracle.
"And where, Oracle, is the Ark?" the Arbiter inquired.
------------------------------
If there was one thing John 117, otherwise known as the Master Chief, truly despised, it would have to be fighting in space. The thought of being blown to bits by some orbital fire without so much as the chance to pull the trigger on his weapon made him feel vulnerable in a way that should not have been possible. If he had his way, the Covenant would not fight their battles in space, instead they would land there ships on whatever planet that was in their way, and engage the enemy from on the ground. Fighting on the ground with dirt beneath his feet was the only way to fight a war.
Unfortunately, the Covenant preferred to stay in orbit around a planet, and burn it into cinder and then finish 'glassing' it with plasma fire from their fleet. Because of this, it was inevitable that John would be forced to fight the majority of the time in space.
Not that he was useless when it came to fighting off the ground. The Master Chief had been trained since the age of six in nearly every form of combat known to humankind. The destruction of the 'Unyielding Hierophant' was proof enough of this.
Now though, he wished that he wasn't on the Forerunner ship, and was instead down on Earth, fighting against the Covenant forces. That was his luck though, he always got the more interesting missions.
Some radio chatter caught his attention and he recognized one of the voices as Lord Hood, commander of the orbital defense guns that were positioned to protect Earth from the Covenant carriers.
The Master Chief quickly identified himself before the ship could be targeted.
'Isolate that signal,' Lord Hood's voice ordered. 'Master Chief, you mind telling me why your on that ship?'
'I'm not entirely sure myself,' John thought to himself. "Sir, finishing this fight."
Even over the chatter, he could hear the amusement in Lord Hood's voice.
'That's good to hear, but as you're the only soldier I'm receiving messages from, I'm presuming that you aren't on that ship as a passenger.'
"No sir, the Covenant hierarch, the Prophet of Truth, is aboard this ship."
'Well, looks like you've completed your original mission from Reach then. What type of ship is that Chief, I've never seen a Covenant ship like it.'
"This isn't a Covenant ship sir, it was built by the Forerunners."
The silence that remark generated was long and poignant.
'I suppose that means it's in all our best interests for you to take it over then. Is there any assistance that we can throw your way?'
"Not at the moment sir, all I can ask is that you refrain from attacking the ship until I have gained control. I'm not sure what kind of weaponry it carries," the Master Chief explained.
'Understood Master Chief, report your status every 10 minutes from now on, and when you get the chance I will need to hear about what happened after In Amber Clad followed the Prophet of Regret through Slipspace.'
"Yes sir," the Master Chief replied, and closed the chatter. He picked up the Battle Rifle he had managed to hold onto when first entering the ship the hard way. Not counting the clip already in the weapon, John only had three spare magazines, definitely not enough to take out an entire ship filled with Covenant. That just meant he had to adapt. Chambering a round, the Master Chief started down the tunnel.
It was time to do what he did best.
The End of a War - Chapter 1
Date: 7 February 2005, 7:29 PM
The End of a War
Chapter 1
Whatever Happened to Making a Truce?
Commander Miranda Keyes UNSC, followed the towering Elite before her uneasily, her left hand never straying far from the handgun situated in the waistband of her pants. Behind her Sergeant Johnson and several other Elites along with the monitor, 343 Guilty Spark, marched along slowly, attempting to leave the control room.
A tense atmosphere had descended upon the group once 343 Guilty Spark had acknowledged that the location of the Ark was located upon the planet known as Earth. After a short conversation it was decided that attempting to leave the installation was the best idea for now. It had only been a moment before the uneasy feeling had descended upon Keyes. She was walking with creatures that had been waging an all-out war upon the human race and were determined to wipe it off the face of existence.
"We have reached the surface," the Elite in the lead announced. He was the one that had killed Tartarus, the Brute that had been trying to activate Halo's main weapon. This Elite was dressed differently than the others. His armor was in a more ceremonial design than the heavy armor that was traditional garb for the other Elites.
The Elite walked them through several rooms that looked as if someone had set of a box of plasma grenades.
"What happened here?" she asked. The Elite in front of her turned and pointed at Sergeant Johnson. Glancing behind her, Johnson grinned at Miranda as he fished through his pocket for a cigar.
"I found a Scarab sitting around so I decided to see what the big fuss was about."
She was about to enquire further when the Elite pushed aside some rubble and the scent of fresh air assaulted them. Turning back Keyes saw outside of the control room. She exited the installation and stood upon the docking platform, the others falling out behind her. Once more she found herself captivated by the natural beauty the landscape projected. Had the forerunners appreciated nature so much that they built such wondrous lands to cover the ring?
"What are we going to do about a ride?" Sergeant Johnson inquired as he stepped up to the very edge of the platform and glanced down. "I'm not much for freestyle diving."
The Elite in the ceremonial gear turned and looked out down at the far beachhead.
"Our ride will be here momentarily," he said simply, and motioned one of the other Elites to come with him as he walked to the far end of the platform.
Seeing as how the others were distracted, Miranda took the chance and motioned for Sergeant Johnson to approach.
"Things are getting terribly fucked up wouldn't you say ma'am?" Johnson commented as he took his trademark cigar from his mouth and tapped the ash over the side of the platform.
Miranda shared that sentiment but decided to simply nod her head. She glanced over to where the two Elites were now talking.
"Sergeant, do you know what significance that Elite's battle armor signifies?" she asked. Johnson looked over at the Elite and the grin slipped from his mouth.
"The armor he's wearing identifies him as 'The Arbiter', some kind of special Elite," Johnson explained. "We've never encountered one of them before, but I've heard nearly every Elite around here speak of him with a lot of reverence. Not sure if that makes him some kind of super-soldier like the Chief, but I happened to overhear one of those Brutes back in High Charity saying that every Arbiter dies from the duties expected of him. I don't know what the Prophets had him doing, but either way, that Elite is one hell of a soldier."
It felt odd, hearing praise from a human for a Covenant warrior. But it would seem that the Elites were now in the same position as the humans. The Prophets and the remaining members of the Covenant were seeking the Elites destruction, a situation mankind knew only too well.
Would this mean some form of alliance was needed between the two groups? Miranda glanced at the other Elites, who had grouped up and were standing near the doorway, watching the her and Johnson closely.
No, there had already been far too much fighting and death between the two groups for an all out truce to pass. The Prophets may have betrayed the Elites, but it certainly didn't mean they would come running to mankind for help. It was the same for what was left of the humans. The Elites had led the charge, destroying planet after planet that man inhabited, murdering all who dwelled there. The bad blood between the groups couldn't be solved with such simple motivation.
"We will be picked up by that dropship, human," the Arbiter announced from beside Miranda. She had been so deep in thought that she hadn't noticed him approach.
"The lady has a name, and rank," Sergeant Johnson said nastily. "I suggest you learn it."
The two soldiers regarded each other. The Arbiter stood well over two meters, towering over Johnson, but the hardened marine stood there imperviously, his gaze never faltering.
As quickly as it came, the tense moment passed. The Arbiter turned from Johnson and looked out away from the structure to where a Covenant dropship was fast approaching.
"When we get onboard, it would be wise not to wander about," the Arbiter said, before adding stiffly, "Commander."
That remark generated silence as the Arbiter stepped into the mini-gravity lift generated by the dropship. Johnson and Keyes went up next, followed by the other Elites and the monitor. The Arbiter led them to a small room, ordained with a large table and chairs.
"You will wait here, we have a base set up a ways away. Once there we will come up with a strategy on how to deal with the Ark," the Arbiter announced before nodding briefly at the other Elites and exiting the room.
"He doesn't mince words does he?" Johnson remarked to Keyes, settling down as best he could in the oversized chairs. They were obviously intended for Elites to use.
'Who would have ever thought that two humans would be sitting as guests aboard a Covenant ship?' Miranda thought to herself. She would have been more amused, had it not been for the events over the past few days. The Covenant assault on Earth, the random jump through Slip Space by the Prophet of Regret, and the discovery of another Halo. She felt her head throb with the onset of a headache, a sure sign that she was stressed out. Her thoughts shifted over to the Master Chief, who undoubtedly was somewhere on this godforsaken ring. The Spartan had fought with her father when Reach fell, and had fled with him to the first Halo.
Even for a Spartan, the Master Chief was truly amazing. The man defied odds that even an entire human battalion would fail against. He had earned the title of 'Demon' from the Covenant, a sign that even humanity's enemy revered him.
If there was one thing a person remembered most after meeting him, it would be his presence. Incased in the Mjolnir armor he carried the appearance of an emotionless killer, a machine engineered for the purpose of dealing death. It was true the Spartans had been developed as weapons, but the Master Chief's demeanor was one of strength, purpose and hope. Simply his presence on a battlefield brought hope to an otherwise hopeless situation. Panicking soldiers would calm at the sight of him, and they would return fire and counterattack with renewed strength. The enemy would pause in their assault once they caught glimpse of his green armor.
When Reach fell, if the Master Chief had not fled on the Pillar of Autumn and instead been killed along with the remaining Spartans, there would be no hope of victory against the Covenant. With destruction looming only moments away, Earth felt hope when the Spartan's image appeared. He was humanity's last weapon.
That thought rang through Miranda's head for a moment.
"Sergeant," she began slowly, "do we know what happened to the Master Chief?"
Johnson shook his head, "No ma'am, he disappeared after the Covenant fried that structure Regret was holed up in."
A voice came from behind Miranda, nearly startling her out of her chair.
"The Demon? He is no longer on this Ring, the Parasite leader sent him to High Charity to stop the Prophets."
Miranda turned and saw the Arbiter standing behind her, his gaze bearing down on her and Johnson. This Elite moved far too quietly for her tastes.
"The leader of the Flood?" Johnson questioned. "You mean to tell me those things answer to some kind of leader?"
The Arbiter turned to Johnson and nodded, his mandibles clicking as he did so.
"It recovered both I, and the Demon, instructing us that we must stop the key from turning. It possessed the ability to bend space and transport us thousands of miles away in a mere moment."
"Just what we fucking need," Johnson muttered to himself.
"If the Chief is still on High Charity, than we have to pick him up," Keyes said. "Were going to need him to stop the Prophets from activating the Ark."
The Arbiter shook his head slightly. "I have received word that High Charity has been taken over by the Parasite. They have taken control of the city. If the Demon is still there, he has been killed."
Miranda was about to respond when Johnson snorted.
"Listen boy, it would take more than some city full of Flood to take down the Chief. He's not one to bow to pressure. I would have thought you Elites would know that by now."
The Arbiter stared at Johnson for a moment before turning away.
"The point is moot anyways," he began, "All that remains on the Holy Ring are transport craft and dropships. We must return to High Charity and acquire a ship capable of entering Slip Space. Once we reach the Elite base, we will inform what remains of our force about what transpired in the control room and then set out. You, Commander, and the sergeant, will not leave my side for an instant once we debark."
"You don't trust us?" Miranda asked, before nearly smacking her forehead for asking such a stupid question.
The Arbiter turned and stared at Keyes for a long moment before shrugging his massive shoulders.
"It is not that I do not trust you humans, it is the others that I am wary of. Just because you travel with me does not change the fact that you are humans, and we have a sworn duty to destroy your kind."
"So you would continue to fight mankind," Miranda said, a cold lump forming in her stomach. "Even knowing your Prophets betrayed you?"
The ship shuddered to a stop, and Miranda glanced outside to see that they were now on the ground.
"I would not worry about myself, Commander," the Arbiter said, walking out of the room, beckoning the others to follow. "I shall never kill another human for the rest of my life."
The Arbiter's words dissolved the cold feeling that had descended on Keyes, and she found herself smiling despite the situation. If there were other Elites were like this one, than perhaps peace could be achieved.
Their arrival had garnered a large crowd, Elites, Grunts, and even Hunters. Many of which let loose a mighty cheer when the Arbiter stepped out of the dropship. He seemed unaffected by the praise, as he simply turned and waited for the humans to debark. The cheers that had erupted so quickly, died just as quickly when Commander Keyes and Sergeant Johnson stepped free of the gravity-lift. Once more the Arbiter seemed to be oblivious to the reactions of the other Covenant, waiting for Miranda and Johnson to catch up before leading them away from the ship.
The Elites, Hunters, and Grunts that had managed to avoid termination by the Brutes and the Flood had retreated to the ring, setting up a base in one of Halo's many research stations. From here they were able to listen in on the chatter-net to the sounds of those on High Charity slowly and efficiently be destroyed by the Flood.
Seko 'Ekaporamee, the leader of Covenant Special Forces Units, was standing before the research station as they approached.
"So Arbiter, it would seem Tartarus was no match for our savior," 'Ekaporamee said in way of greeting. Normally the Elite was able to control his voice despite his disfigured mandibles, but in severe cases of exhaustion his words were slurred. Obviously he had done his fair share of fighting while the Arbiter had been battling with Tartarus.
"I am afraid to say that it would seem the death of Tartarus is only a small ripple in the grand scheme of things, Major," the Arbiter said. "There is much to discuss, and these humans as well as the Oracle will help me explain."
------------------------------
Luckily for the Master Chief, Lord Hood had been able to stop the firing sequence for the MAC gun before it could try and put a round through the Forerunner ship. He wasn't sure if the shot would have actually harmed the craft in some way, but it would for sure give the Covenant aboard reason to try and take that gun out.
So far John had been fortunate. The lower maintenance levels of the ship were relatively unguarded. Engineers fluttered about but they were ignorant of his presence. His interaction with them in the past had been the same. They moved about in a kind of stupor.
It was times like these the Master Chief truly missed Cortana's presence inside his mind. Granted she could be overbearing at times, and she often used his suit as if he were a battle cruiser but she was at least someone he could speak with. Ever since Reach fell, the Master Chief had been fighting without his fellow Spartans, the men and women he had grown up with were his family. After Reach, John had been forced to fight by himself, depending on no one but himself. This development had left him without a sense of security, as if every little action he took held the balance of whether or not millions would perish or live.
He was a Spartan, designed to fight and win under the most extreme cases of pressure, and if one were to look at his record, they would be inclined to believe that he was capable of overcoming odds that were so far against his favor that the only explanation for his survival would be that he were a God. With the responsibility of being the last Spartan alive, John carried the hope of humanity upon his shoulders. Such a weight could not be supported before troubling emotions set in.
Having Cortana with him while he fought was almost like being back with his unit. She was as tactical as a Spartan, if not more so, and was always prepared for any situation that might arise in the midst of battle.
Here on the Forerunner ship, the Master Chief found himself wishing for the intrusion Cortana presented when occupying his mind.
I must be going insane, John thought to himself as he peered down a corridor. Next I'll be wishing that I could run through one of CPO Mendez's survival exercises again.
The corridor looked empty, so John slid around the corner and hurried down it. The Forerunner's seemed to prefer making their ships confusing in their general architecture. It made for hard navigating, but it did make sense. What better way to insure that somebody attempting a hostile boarding would get lost than to make the ship so damn confusing even having the layout of the place wouldn't help.
Just as he was about to turn the next corner the Master Chief heard heavy breathing and the sound of shuffling feet. Heavy feet, to be precise. Stopping his charge, he leaned into the wall, waiting for the enemy to appear. He was certain a pair of Brutes were about to come around the corner.
His assumption was proven correct as two Brutes walked past the turn in the corridor. The last thing they expected to see was a human, let alone the one they called 'Demon', so there was a moments pause before their brains kicked into gear.
That moment of surprise was all the inclination John
needed. His Battle Rifle was out and he aimed a vicious butt stroke across the chin of the first Brute. It fell to the ground, hard, sliding across the floor until its momentum was halted by the wall. The second Brute, seeing what had just occurred, quickly charged John, intending to knock him to the ground.
The Master Chief had expected the maneuver, and when the Brute swung its massive arms at him he dove to the side avoiding the attack and, quickly planting one foot on the bulkhead, launched himself at the overextended Brute, landing a hard elbow into its neck. The Brute may have had the superior bulk, but John's momentum knocked it into the wall. Wasting no time, the Master Chief grabbed the Plasma Rifle from it's belt and shoved it against the Brute's face, holding down the trigger. The weapon overheated and John tossed it aside, letting the Brute's lifeless body slump to the ground.
By now the first Brute had risen to it's feet, and was snarling angrily at him. His adrenaline burning, the Master Chief charged the Brute, dropping his Battle Rifle to the side as he did so. The Brute had obviously not expected for the Chief to run straight at him, but he was not loath to pass the opportunity aside. When the Master Chief was within arm's reach it ducked down and aimed a savage punch to his midsection.
John planted his left foot firmly on the ground, the Brute's fist a mere centimeter from his and pivoted to the right, avoiding the attack by a narrow margin. Before the Brute could take into consideration that his attack had failed, John had slammed a fist into the Brute's face. If not for the helmet the Brute was wearing, it's skull would have been crushed from the pressure. The Mjolnir armor as well as the genetic enhancements made the Spartans powerful enough to lift a Scorpion-class tank. A well-delivered punch could break through a ship's bulkhead.
The Brute slammed to the ground, and before it could recover the Master Chief threw himself on top of him, reaching back and sending another punch into the Brute's face. The helmet gave way under the Chief's unyielding attack, and there was a loud crack as his fist drove the Brute's head into the floor. The body twitched for several moments spasmodically before finally stopping.
His heart was beating wildly as he got to his feet, reclaiming his discarded weapon. With luck his encounter with these Brutes had gone unnoticed. John was in no hurry to have every Covenant on board come barreling down on him.
He continued on his way, moving down the hallways the two Brutes had come from. There was a small window off the port side, and he took the opportunity to glance outside. The ship was still in orbit around Earth. The fighting between the remainder of the Covenant fleet and the orbital defense stations still raged on.
Why would the Prophet of Truth be content to sit back and watch the battle from afar when it was certain that this Forerunner ship could easily beat back Earth's defenses?
Regardless of what was going on, the Master Chief needed to make it to the bridge before the ship decided to enter the fight.
The End of a War - Chapter 2
Date: 14 February 2005, 3:23 AM
The End of a War
Chapter 2
The Dead City
There was nothing but silence inside the dropship as it sped through space. From the aft windows those aboard could see the looming city. High Charity sat motionless, the once grand Covenant city was now a lifeless husk. Standing in the dropship, knowing it was there intended target made those aboard shudder with apprehension.
The Arbiter felt his heart quicken as he peered at the city. He had no desire to return to the place of his disgrace. The mark, burned upon his chest, felt more painful with each moment passing, bringing him closer to High Charity. There had been nothing but shame when Tartarus had seared the mark onto him. Now he felt naught but rage. He had been nothing more than a sacrifice provided by the Prophets, his shame used to control him. The Heretic Elite that he had been sent to kill. He had been forced to kill an honorable comrade, one who had heard the truth and decided to act out against the Prophets.
He would be glad to be rid of this city, and the memories it represented.
"Scan it again," the Arbiter ordered. The pilot, an Elite, glanced at him and then turned on the scanner.
"No sign of movement Arbiter; nothing is showing any significant heat signatures," the pilot announced after the scanner had completed its task. This was not as reassuring as it would have been under normal circumstances. When the Parasite carrier forms took over a host body, they stopped the heart from beating after it was in control, effectively stopping blood flow.
The Arbiter turned on his chatter com.
"There is no sign of the Demon, Commander."
There was a short pause on the other end before the female soldier replied, "Understood."
Major 'Ekaporamee had gone over the mission debriefing before they had departed from the Holy Ring. The assault force would be split into two teams, one inserting from the north docking bay and the other from the south. The Arbiter as well as the two humans would be with the team attacking the north bay, while 'Ekaporamee would lead the other. Both teams main objective was to find a carrier ship still docked and to secure it. It had also been decided that once one of the ships were secure, all remaining ships would be destroyed. The Covenant fleet ships as well as the remaining human vessels held coordinates to each species home world. The thought of the Parasite discovering either home world was not something either species wished to dwell upon.
The Arbiter's team also had another mission, though it was known only to three of the team members. The humans were convinced that the Demon had survived the Parasite infestation somehow, and they would not leave until they found him. Normally the Arbiter would be inclined simply to leave the humans behind to their fate, but this Ark was located upon the human home world, and no matter how much talking they did, the human defenses would blast them from the sky at the first opportunity.
"Entering city limits in five," the pilot announced. The Arbiter glanced at the city one last time before getting to his feet and making his way to the bay, where the squad he would be leading was assembling their gear. He was not surprised to see that the group was split into two sections. The humans were on one side of the room checking each other's gear, while the rest of the team was on the other side.
The distrust between the two groups was troubling, but both he and Major 'Ekaporamee had made it clear that the humans were not to be harmed. The order would be carried out, but the others would not go out of their way to assist them.
"The schematics for High Charity have been blocked by something inside the ship, so it has proven impossible for us to check logs for the docking bay to check what carriers are still inside. Our objective will be to secure the docking bay; from there we can do a remote inventory check. There will be no splitting up, we must stay in a group," the Arbiter explained. "The Parasite will overwhelm us if we are not careful."
The Arbiter formed the ranks, placing the two humans in the center of the group. It would not do to send them out first, in case the Parasite had set a trap. He went over each soldier carefully, checking their weapons and ammo. The Elites had decided to carry a Carbine, as well as a Plasma Rifle. A few had Energy Swords strapped to their waists. The Grunts were carrying a variety of Needlers and Plasma Pistols. A few skilled Grunts had been given Fuel Rod Cannons.
"Hey Arbiter, if you happen to have any spare energy swords I'll take one as well."
The Arbiter turned and regarded the human sergeant. The Energy Sword was one of the more prized weapons of the Covenant. It had originally been designed by an Elite, who had watched the way the battle cruisers used their huge plasma cannons. The ships had large magnetic coils that forced the plasma into forming a large stream so that when fired it would move in the direction intended, instead of bursting free of the cannon and simply scattering into space.
The way the energy sword worked, there were numerous magnetic bands wrapped around the grip of the blade. When activated plasma burst free from the small containment tube placed on the end of the handle. The magnetic coils would be activated and they would wrap around the plasma, forcing it into the shape of a blade. This occurred because using simple trial and error, smaller and larger bands were outfitted onto the handle, and after many trials the right combination had been found.
It was not an easy weapon to use. When the plasma burst free of its containment, the weapon weighed more than a Grunt. There was also a lengthy training period for those who wished to wield the weapon in battle. The main focus of the training was directed more on keeping the person using the blade from harming himself and his fellow warriors.
The Arbiter was about to inquire if the human had any idea how to use the blade when memories of what occurred earlier flashed in his mind. The sergeant had been capable of driving a Scarab over rocky terrain with no prior training. Wielding an Energy Sword would be child's play. Leaving the room momentarily, the Arbiter retrieved it and handed it to the sergeant.
"Much obliged," Sergeant Johnson said as he stuffed the blade into his waistband.
"We will be approaching the city in a moment, remember to use discretion," the Arbiter warned. The sergeant was about to respond when the ship suddenly veered sharply to the right. The team com opened up and the pilot spoke.
"The Parasite has figured out how to use High Charity's defenses. Fixed plasma cannons are now firing on our position."
"Evade for now, find a new location where we can put down with minimal enemy fire," the Arbiter responded calmly.
"Understood," the pilot acknowledged and closed the com.
This was not the ideal way for the mission to start.
------------------------------
As an AI, Cortana was not meant to feel emotion. AI's were meant to be cold and calculating, with preprogrammed personalities. That had been the standard for many centuries, but with the creation of 'Smart' AI's that had changed. By taking the actual preserved memories of a living human an AI gained the ability to form abstract thoughts, and to have a personality. Because of that, AI's could now feel human emotions. Naturally they were suppressed to some degree, but they were still there.
Cortana had watched the Forerunner ship disconnect from High Charity and enter Slipspace. She had felt great sorrow, all processes she had been running stopped as the ship disappeared. Cortana knew that she had seen the last of the Master Chief.
She was a 'Smart' AI, therefore having a preset lifespan of only seven years, but Cortana knew then that she would be ending her life far quicker than that. Once the ring was activated, she would be forced to destroy In Amber Clad, which would cause a chain reaction detonating the reactors in High Charity, and then finally destroying the Halo installation.
She had started the countdown to detonate In Amber Clad's reactors when High Charity's sensors had picked up an enormous energy spike located on the ring. When that energy spike suddenly disappeared, she had stopped the countdown. Something had interfered with the activation sequence.
The Flood had taken over High Charity, and with the Brutes and Elites fighting in space, it was not long before the only entity remaining in the city was the Flood, and herself. It was this situation that led to her present predicament, and her newest emotion. Fear.
The presence she had felt earlier while leading the Master Chief through the city had grown stronger with the elimination of all the Covenant. Her first assumption was that perhaps it was a Covenant AI. It had proven much too powerful for that, and she had felt a tingle of apprehension when she considered the possibility of it being a Forerunner AI. It wasn't until shortly after the firing sequence for the installation had been stopped that she discovered what it truly was.
The creature that seemed to control the Flood had infiltrated High Charity. Gravemind, as she had begun to refer to it, was capable of tapping into the underlying grid power that seemed to run through the Halo installations. As such, it was able to move about freely on the ring, much as the monitors of each site were capable of doing.
Cortana was the best AI the UNSC had ever produced. Modeled after the creator of the Spartan II Project, Dr. Halsey, she had been given every advancement that could be stuffed into her core processor. There was no message she could not encrypt and no system she couldn't crack. With all that said, she felt not but fear when her sensors identified Gravemind's presence.
When it had spoken, and requested information, she had taken a full three seconds before she responded. Whoever had stopped Halo from firing would undoubtedly have to come to High Charity if they wished to leave this system. The only ships remaining that had Slipspace drives were in the docking bays. All others had been destroyed, or rendered inoperable like In Amber Clad.
Gravemind was some kind of leader to the Flood. It controlled them somehow, as if it had a network that branched off to every one of them. The Flood itself had only one purpose, consume all life. If they had not yet begun to load themselves onto the Covenant carriers, then it would seem that they had yet to figure out how to operate the ship.
That theory was shot down as soon as it had asked its first question. It began drilling her about humanity and the Covenant. Gravemind was gathering information. The creature wished to know everything, the reason behind the war, which was victorious. Cortana had no intention of giving it any information that it could use against humankind, or the Covenant. It wasn't through some kindred love that she felt protective of the Covenant, if the Flood gained access to all their technology it would spell the end to humanity even faster than when the Covenant were at the helm.
She had endured hours of questions. They delved deeper and deeper into the history of both societies. Gravemind's questions were beginning to turn towards locations of Covenant and human worlds, and she was forced to evade answering as best she could. If it came to pass that the creature was going to rip her from the ship forcefully, Cortana would detonate the reactors and let them all die.
Before it came to that, her sensors detected incoming contacts. A quick probe identified several Covenant dropships, two approaching from the north and two from the south. The perimeter defense was activated remotely and Cortana attempted to shut them down, but something was blocking her access.
"The conversation has ended for now," Gravemind's voice rang clear. "A battle looms, preparation must now be taken."
The presence of Gravemind slowly dissolved from High Charity. As soon as she could no longer detect it, she opened up a com channel with the approaching dropships. Covenant voices greeted her.
"Plasma turret unit three offline, rerouting power to all forward turrets now," from the deep pitch of the voice Cortana identified the speaker as an Elite.
"Target all landing zone defensive weapons once we get within optimum range."
Cortana instantly recognized that voice. It belonged to the Elite that Master Chief and she had seen when they had been rescued by Gravemind. If he was alive and heading towards High Charity, at least she now knew who had stopped the firing sequence on Halo. However, if the Elites had gotten there, it did not bode well for Sergeant Johnson and Commander Keyes.
Still, if it meant getting off this city and away from the terror brought on from simply being there, she would assist the Elites. A quick probe found a broken patch in the defense set up by Gravemind, and she sent a spike to keep it open. First off she activated the failsafe protocol for the defense turrets, ensuring they would be destroyed. Next she moved through the ship so she could observe what was happening first hand inside the north landing bay.
The two dropships made a sweeping approach, turrets blazing as they flooded the landing zone with plasma. Cortana assisted their efforts by dropping the shields around the doors, ensuring all Flood inside were neutralized. After two runs, the ships finally entered the docking bay and troops began pouring out. The Elites lead the way, with a few Grunts coming down from the gravity lifts.
It was after the Elite she recognized as the one from her encounter with Gravemind, that Cortana felt her processor skip, the AI equivalent of a human gasp.
Sergeant Johnson and Commander Keyes were alive.
The End of a War - Chapter 3
Date: 14 February 2005, 3:41 AM
The End of a War
Chapter 3
From Bad to Worse....to 'Wow, this really sucks'
The Master Chief felt his hands tighten their grip on the rifle he held. It had only been a few minutes since a lucky Jackal had announced his presence over the ship's battle net. He had expected an influx of Covenant to come barreling into crew barracks, but there had been nothing so far.
The fighting had been interspersed as he made his way through the twisting corridors and decks of the Forerunner ship, something John found disturbing. It was possible the remaining Covenant aboard were waiting on the above deck for him, but that didn't fit the way they usually operated. A stow away was a slander against their very existence. Typically, wave after wave of troops would be sent until the intruder was eliminated. What few battles he had participated in seemed as if the Covenant had higher priorities than getting rid of him.
He wasn't exactly going to complain, but it was troubling nonetheless.
John had accessed the ship's schematics earlier, what he attributed to dumb luck mostly, and now had a reliable layout of the ship. From what little he could decipher, he was one deck below the control room, undoubtedly where the Prophet of Truth was holed up. There was an access to the control room that wouldn't be filled with Covenant he had discovered. The only problem was he would be going in blind, with no idea how many troops lay behind the door.
The two points of access carried with them their own advantages and disadvantages, but John had decided that the element of surprise would be of greater use to him. Truth needed to die, and if he only got one shot at it, he would need to take it quickly. Announcing his presence by tearing up the corridor all the way to the control room would ensure they'd be ready for him.
He slung his rifle over his shoulder and picked up the gun the Jackal had wielded before he had crushed its skull against the bulkhead. If he only got one shot at Truth, he wanted to make sure it would finish him off.
As suspected, his path was free of Covenant. An Engineer flew by at one point, but as usual it ignored the Master Chief's presence. He reached the small access door and paused. This would not be based on his skill. It would be nothing more than luck.
Taking a deep breath, the Master Chief charged through the door, his speed carrying his through the doors before they had a chance to open. Dropping to the ground in a short crouch John rolled to the left, his eyes taking in as much of the room as he could. The control room was large, with large expansive windows along the front wall. Brutes and Drones worked the controls of the ship, but there were few of them.
As he came out of his roll, the Master Chief spotted Truth. He sat in the center of the room in his hover chair, gazing out at the fighting taking place around Earth.
Not sparing a moment, John brought the Covenant rifle to his shoulder, lined up the sights and fired. By now the occupants of the control room had realized something was amiss, and were turning to regard where John stood when the streak of concentrated plasma slammed into the Prophet of Truth. The startled shrieks of the Drones and the outraged cries of the Brutes reached John's ears and a smile crept onto his face.
His amusement was quickly lost however, when he noticed the shimmering light around the Prophet of Truth, as the creature slowly turned its chair around to face the Spartan. Cursing to himself John raised the rifle again and fired three shots in succession, overheating the gun and forcing him to drop it. As the excess plasma spilled onto his hand and burned away at his shield the Master Chief watched intently as his shots impacted Truth. Once again the shielding around him shimmered and faded from sight. Truth remained unharmed.
"I heard rumors of an insect infiltrating this ship; I had not realized it would be you."
Several Brutes were advancing on him, plasma rifles ready to fire. The Master Chief quickly slung his battle rifle around into his hands and trained it on them.
"Hold your fire," Truth ordered lightly. His eyes bored in on the Master Chief and a smirk alighted his face. "Have you come to watch the destruction of your planet Demon? Already our fleet has begun eliminating your orbital defense weaponry. It is only a matter of time before we begin the cleansing of your pitiful race."
Without moving his rifle, John stole a glance out the front of the ship, and saw as Covenant cruisers assaulted the MAC guns. Judging from the amount of debris floating about the stations had been doing a good job, but the Covenant ships were endless. When one was destroyed, another simply took its place. Truth was right.
It was time to shift tactics.
"Well then, I guess your just going to have to order your fleet to retreat," John said simply, his left hand fingering the plasma grenade at his side.
"You are a fool. Nothing will interrupt the completion of the Great Journey. With the Forerunners as our guides we will attain true enlightenment, but first your presence must be erased from this planet."
It was then John saw it, a small crystal like object sitting on a pedestal in the center of the room. He recognized it immediately. It was the same device Locklear had destroyed. But, how had Truth gotten his hands on it?
The ship suddenly accelerated, and John turned in surprise and saw that the ship was moving towards Earth. He was about to activate his com when he remembered that he had lost contact with Lord Hood earlier, whether from interference or the destruction of the main station he did not know.
John turned his gaze back to the crystal. The last time it had been destroyed, the explosion had been huge.
Here goes nothing, the Master Chief thought to himself as he keyed the plasma grenade and threw it at the center Brute. It activated and stuck to the Brute's forehead. Wasting no time John turned and fired at several Drones that had taken flight. Truth bellowed for the others to kill him, but it was too late. John had scooped up the fallen Covenant rifle and fired at the crystal.
"You fool!" Truth shouted as the shot slammed into the crystal. The room grew silent as all eyes turned to the crystal, seeing what the shot had done. A small crack lined down the remaining parts of the crystal, and it started to grow in size.
Not taking any chances, John fired once more. The Covenant soldiers turned, ready to stop him from firing again, but they didn't get a chance. The crystal shattered, emitting a light bright enough to blind everyone.
The Master Chief's auto-dampening visor failed to soften the bright flash and he momentarily lost his vision. He felt the ship begin to shudder, almost as if it was breaking apart. Heat suddenly lashed out at him, and then there was nothing but black.
-----------------------------
Janissary James could adequately sum up her situation, along with the other crewmembers in two words. Supremely fucked.
When the sirens had been activated in the city, announcing the imminent Covenant invasion, she had been scared. Fighting local street toughs and gang members suddenly seemed to be a very small accomplishment. Everyone knew what the Covenant looked like, from the Grunts all the way to the Hunters, but that didn't make the prospect of fighting them any easier to bear.
There had been a sense of panic at first. Then uncertainty; what were they supposed to do? Sit around and wait for the Covenant to start glassing the planet? The news hadn't been much help. All the stations had been broadcasting the award ceremony, where the survivors of Reach were being decorated. The broadcast was cut short, but not before Jan caught a glimpse of the Spartan. He was the one that had discovered and destroyed the device like the one her and the others had deactivated at Chawla Base. Only the one he had destroyed had been the size of a planet.
A representative for ONI had appeared on the news and advised all non-combat personnel to seek shelter. Jan wasn't sure what she was classified as, but non-combat certainly wasn't it. Gilly and Gladys had warned her against leaving, but she didn't give much of a damn what they thought was best. She was calling Kevin Moralis on her chatter before she was even out the front door.
He hadn't been lying when he had said he was prepared. The plan he and the other one point ones had developed wouldn't be of much use anymore, and neither would the yacht. He had contingency plans though, and when she had called he was already putting a few into action.
Kevin had picked her up with two other one point ones. Benji Wong and Carol Sloan. Benji looked almost exactly how Jan had imagine he would. Kevin had described him as a money-maker. He was short, and scrawny looking. The only thing that would've completed the picture is if he was wearing glasses.
Carol was a reminder that despite being one point ones, the title didn't necessarily mean you inherited good looks. She was plain looking, flat-chested and looked like she didn't have a muscle in her whole body.
Jan was suddenly feeling slightly more uneasy about Kevin's plan.
Kevin drove them all to a small building downtown. Once there, Jan met the others. Penelope Niar, Grant Liaos, Carl B. Bronson, Sarah Ingle, Edward Roberts, Earl Terg, Nick Delis, and Sadie Watson.
Grant had flown a Pelican into the city from Chile. Kevin wanted to move out as quickly as possible when they had caught chatter over the net about Covenant forces breaking through the defenses and landing in New Mombasa. It was quickly decided that they would make a stop at Old Mombasa to pick up the weapons cache Kevin and Sarah had set up before seeing what they could do about the Covenant.
Halfway there Jan had been shocked to hear Durga over the Pelican com. She had hacked the net and informed the crew of one point ones that their assistance was not needed at New Mombasa. The Covenant had deployed a Scarab class tank, and Spartan 117 was engaging. Carol, who turned out to be a superb pilot, had turned them around and flown them back to the city.
It had been for the best though, shortly after returning home, they overheard that the Covenant had performed a Slipspace jump from in the city, nearly demolishing the entire city. The Spartan 2.0 had followed the Covenant ship, along with the ship In Amber Clad.
They spent the night in an apartment owned by Edward, and woke up early the next day. The battle still raged above Earth, but at least no additional Covenant forces had broken through the defensive perimeter. Kevin had listened to reports for nearly a half hour before deciding it would be safe to bring the yacht into low orbit around Earth. From there whey would attempt to intercept Covenant transmissions and come up with a strategy on how to assist the orbital defense stations.
It was that decision that led to Jan's present predicament. The yacht had turned out to be everything Kevin had described it to be. Seven of them would be needed to run it efficiently, and it was decided that the remaining five would get the stashed pelicans and bring them into orbit. The Covenant were still firing out boarding crafts at the MAC guns, and the wounded needed transportation off the stations and into hospitals back on Earth.
Carol was going to pilot the yacht while Benji, Sadie, Earl, Penelope, Edward, and Nick would operate the other equipment aboard. Kevin and Jan were heading out to Switzerland to pick up one of the Pelicans, while Carl and Sarah would pick up the other. Grant was flying solo, and after he dropped the others off at the other Pelicans he was going to escort the yacht into low orbit then head off to Cairo station. They had been calling for medical evacs for awhile.
What had led Jan to make the somewhat callous observation over their situation occurred several minutes after the other Pelicans had taken to the air. A large unidentified ship had entered the system a few hours ago, and it had begun to accelerate towards Earth. Lord Hood, Commander of Earth Orbital Defense had issued a standing order not to bring the craft under fire. The problem that came up was a Covenant flagship carrier had sent several squads of Seraph fighters to escort the unidentified ship. Even one of those fighters could take out a Pelican.
Kevin ordered the other Pelicans to back off from the stations in case one of the Seraph fighters decided they would make an easy target. He had started to bring their Pelican back into a low orbit when a huge wave of static and radiation washed over the ship. The controls had failed, the com went silent with nothing but static and they began to drift towards Earth in free-fall.
Supremely fucked indeed.
Where the hell is Durga when you need her? Jan asked herself as she kept a death grip on her seat. Next to her Kevin worked furiously to get the Pelican's controls back online.
Casting a glance at the huge ship, Jan felt her breath get hitched in her throat.
The entire ship was being distorted, almost as if space itself was bending around it. There was a huge flash of light, so bright that even with her eyes closed she saw nothing but white, and then another shockwave rocked the Pelican, only this time it was generated from an explosion aboard the ship.
The Pelican was thrown into a spin, and Jan smacked her head against the bulkhead. Stars swam before her eyes as she heard Kevin swear angrily as he wrenched fruitlessly at the controls. Her head pounding, Jan forced her eyes open and caught a glimpse of the huge ship, where an explosion emanated from its center. Before the ship could completely tear itself apart, there was the same distortion that she saw earlier, only much larger and the ship simply disappeared, leaving only debris from the initial explosion. The Seraph fighters that had been escorting it were nowhere in sight.
"Sonofabitch!" Kevin exclaimed as the controls sprung to life and he pulled them out of the spin. Once the ship was righted he turned to Jan, who was still dazed.
"I'm fine," she responded, seeing the concerned look on his face. She cautiously ran a hand over her head, and it came away without any blood, validating her response.
A voice sounded over the com, alerting them to the fact that the disruption earlier had passed.
'This is the Last Hope, everyone report in,' the voice belonged to Benji. The Last Hope was the name of the yacht.
"Ferdinand Six reporting in," Kevin replied over the com. "A little shaken up but otherwise fine."
'Understood Six, you've got debris heading your way, recommend you move out of low orbit and link up with the others.'
"Roger that," Kevin said, complying. He put the Pelican into a slow bank, turning back towards the Last Hope, and the other Pelicans. Jan continued to watch the space where the other ship had once been. She couldn't comprehend the sudden disappearance, and since Kevin wasn't commenting on it there was a good chance she had imagined it.
Her eyes were still fixated on the spot when she noticed several objects moving fast towards them. It took a moment before she could make out the shapes but when she did she saw it was debris from the resounding explosion.
"Uh, Kevin?"
"What is it Jan?" Kevin asked as he brought them out of the low turn and started towards the yacht that was a mere spec in the distance.
"I think that's debris," she commented, raising a hand to point it out. Kevin followed her hand and saw the incoming objects.
"Shit," he cursed as he powered the thrusters and made for a quick burn to move them out of the trajectory, but it was too late. Several pieces slammed into the Pelican and sent the ship rattling with bone-jarring force.
"This is Ferdinand Six, we just took some debris off the port side," Kevin announced over the com.
'I'll check you out,' another voice piped in. That would be Grant, or Ferdinand Five. His Pelican disengaged from the yacht and made a quick burn over to their Pelican and pulled up alongside.
"Anything vital hit?" Kevin asked. There was a slight pause as Grant looked them over.
'Nothing serious, you are definitely going to need a new paint job though.'
"Alright, if this bird isn't going to fall apart on us then we might as well..."
'Jesus Christ,' Grant cut Kevin off. 'You've got some debris clinging to you.'
"Its alright, it'll be knocked loose when we start to power the thrusters."
Grants voice was stupefied. 'This isn't debris from the ship, it's a person.'
Jan and Kevin traded looks. Kevin slowed the Pelican down and he opened up a visual com with Grant.
"You mind repeating that Five?" Kevin requested. Grant's face was a picture of surprise, and it was a moment before he remembered them.
'Hold one Six. Slow your Pelican down and head over to the yacht. Get Jan into gear and have her do a free walk to check it out.'
Wordlessly Kevin complied while Jan quickly suited up. A free walk would entail that she wouldn't have any connection to the Pelican, essentially she'd be one misstep away from free-falling in space.
Once the back was vented and the latch lifted Jan slowly, inexorably made her way from the inside of the Pelican to the roof. Her heart pounded in her ears as she carefully gained proper grips as she continued to pull herself along.
She reached the spot where the debris had hit, and Jan surveyed the scene.
The Pelican had been hit several times, twice on the wing cluster. She moved closer, hoping to see what had sent Grant into such a stupor. When she was close enough to make it out, Jan felt her heart nearly stop.
There, clinging with one hand onto a small dent in the outer armor was somebody. She didn't need to get closer to know who it was. The armor gave it away. She activated her com.
"It's a Spartan."
The End of a War - Chapter 4
Date: 14 February 2005, 4:06 AM
The End of a War
Chapter 4
Whatever You Do, Don't Blink
Sergeant Johnson wasn't sure what he expected when they first debarked onto High Charity. Maybe a complete Flood assault on their ship, or even that leader thing the Arbiter had spoken about. What he certainly did not expect was to come down the mini gravity lift and find the spectral image of Cortana speaking with the Arbiter.
"-ey are lying dormant for now, but that Gravemind is somewhere in the city," he overheard. If Cortana was still in High Charity, then the Chief must be nearby.
"How many carriers are still docked that are capable of entering Slipspace?" the Arbiter asked.
"Three," Cortana responded. "Though from the inventory I've concluded that two of the ships have been damaged and are incapable of activating their main drives without having massive power failure."
"In what area of the city is the remaining ship docked?" the Arbiter questioned.
"Sector 9, Honor Without Mercy is docked. I believe it to be the Prophet of Mercy's flagship."
Johnson wasn't much interested in that talk. This whole city was crawling with Flood and he was itching for a battle, especially with those bastards. Memories from his first trip to a Halo installation were still fresh within his mind.
He made his way down the loading docks and climbed a flight of stairs that led to a small corridor. His hands wielded two M7 sub-machine guns, with an M6C pistol shoved into his waistband at the small of his back. He also had the energy blade the Arbiter had given him strapped onto his left leg. Spare ammo and grenades were in a pouch slung over his right shoulder. If the Flood were looking for a fight, he sure as hell was going to give them one.
"Sergeant," a voice sounded behind him. Johnson turned and regarded Keyes, who was speaking with Cortana and the Arbiter. "Don't go too far off. We'll be moving out shortly."
"Nothing to worry about ma'am, just giving the area a look," he responded. Satisfied, Commander Keyes turned back. Johnson threw one last glance down the corridor before walking back over to Keyes and Cortana. The Arbiter had gone off to inform the others.
"So where's the Chief?" he asked seeing a lull in their conversation. Cortana and Keyes both turned to look at him.
"The Master Chief followed the Prophet of Truth aboard a Forerunner ship that had previously been powering this city. The Prophet of Mercy told us that Truth was going to Earth to finish what Regret had started," Cortana informed him.
"You didn't go with him?" Johnson persisted. He noticed Cortana's face alter slightly, making her appear annoyed.
"My purpose of staying behind was to destroy High Charity and subsequently Halo in case the activation would not be stopped."
Johnson grunted and turned around briefly to look at the Arbiter and the other Covenant.
"You don't seem too surprised that were working with these guys," he commented.
"I've been monitoring the Covenant traffic for several hours, sergeant. The Master Chief and I traveled through High Charity while the Brutes began the purging. I know of their fall from grace."
"Just cause the Prophets don't want them around anymore doesn't mean they'll come crawling to us to make a truce," Johnson pointed out.
Cortana's features changed to amusement.
"In the direst of situations even the most hated of enemies can become allies," she said. "You would be wise to remember that."
"Alright you two, that's enough chatter for now. We've got to get moving," Commander Keyes said. Johnson turned and saw the Arbiter approach.
"I have received word from Major 'Ekaporamee, thanks to this AI the defenses were disabled in their landing zone and they have debarked without any contact as of yet. I have informed him of the location of the only working ship. He and his team are heading there now," the Arbiter informed them. "If we leave now and don't run into any heavy resistance we should be able to link up with them within a few minutes of their arrival."
"That may be a problem," Cortana interjected as her image flickered momentarily. "Movement detected down corridors 7 through 14. Estimate their destination to be this docking bay."
Johnson flicked the safety off both SMG's and flashed a grin at the others.
"It's about damn time."
------------------------------
The Master Chief was torn between wondering just how the hell he was alive, and screaming over the pain that was lancing throughout his entire body. After a few moments of indecision his choice was made for him, as something connected with his side, sending a wave of nausea induced pain across his body.
As he clenched his eyes shut and breathed deeply to block out of the pain, John forced his mind to go over what happened aboard the Forerunner ship. After the explosion that started ripping up the control deck, a fracture down the exterior of the ship had reached all the way to the interior, which quickly spread. The main viewing window had shattered and he'd been shot out of the ship like a missile. There hadn't been much time to think once that occurred. The Master Chief had spotted a Pelican and grabbed a nearby piece of debris and hoped to hell he'd hit the ship.
John couldn't recall what happened next. He was certain he must have someone hit the Pelican, otherwise he would have fallen into orbit of Earth and burned through reentry, slamming into the surface with enough force to punch through a Covenant ship from head to toe.
"I wouldn't move around too much if I were you," a voice off to his left announced. John strained his neck and forced his eyes open. Kneeling down near him was a young girl wearing a flight suit. A frown creased his face when he realized that his helmet was missing, and he quickly shifted into a sitting position, pushing the pain that movement produced to the back of his mind.
He took a moment to take in the room before getting to his feet. This was some kind of flight deck, but it lacked any military identifications. He was about to inquire when he heard a gasp from behind him.
"Could you cover up or something?" the girl squeaked out as she hid her face in her hands. Confused, John glanced down and saw that it was not just his helmet that had been removed. All of the Mjolnir armor had been taken off, and what appeared to be a comforter had been laid across him when he was unconscious.
"Where is my suit?" the Master Chief asked as he looked for any other people in the room. From the simple decoration that adorned the place, it would appear to be a civilian craft, but it had been altered somewhat.
"In the next room," the girl answered, her hands still covering her face. "We couldn't see how badly you were hurt so we took it off."
The Master Chief didn't bother waiting and walked off to the door leading into the next deck. As the door slid open, he realized this room was filled with greater capacity. He drew a round of startled looks as he stood just inside the room. John glanced at each person before letting his gaze fall upon the table where his armor lay in disassembly.
He walked purposely to the table, the others that had been gathered around backed off quickly as if they thought he was heading for them. He picked up his wrist guard and noticed it was misshapen. John inwardly frowned, the majority of the suit was damaged, but not to a great degree. It should still function.
"Geez Jan, I asked you to look after him, not let him wander around naked," one of the men commented. The Master Chief turned slightly and saw the girl from the other room, looking embarrassed as she averted her gaze from him. The man that had spoken turned from the girl and looked at John. He opened his mouth to speak but as John's gaze fell upon him, his mouth clamped shut and he looked uncomfortable.
Disregarding them for a moment, John began to suit up. He caught a glimpse of himself in a mirror located on the far bulkhead. His skin appeared a shade paler than he remembered. Incased in the Mjolnir suit, a Spartan did not receive any kind of sunlight, rending their complexions to be mostly moonlight pale.
"Is this a civilian ship?" he asked as he began attaching his lower armor. It was uncomfortable and awkward, doing it by himself but he doubted the civilians aboard this ship had any idea how it worked. When he received no immediate response the Master Chief paused in his ministrations and looked at the assembled group.
"Yes," one of them finally answered. A young man, no older than 20 had replied. He looked somewhat scrawny, but there was something about his eyes that the Master Chief recognized.
"It's a yacht," the young girl elaborated. John had managed to fasten the lower armor and she seemed capable of looking at him now.
"I presume when the Covenant fleet entered the system there would have been a standing order for all civilians to seek shelter," the Master Chief commented. "If so, why were you in orbit? I understand that you have a desire to protect your home, but there is little you can do against the Covenant ships. They could blow this ship apart with one blast from their plasma cannons. You should stay on the ground and let soldiers handle the fighting."
As he snapped on the last gauntlet John noticed the almost crestfallen looks on their faces. There was little remorse within him, they would simply be throwing their lives away as cannon fodder for the Covenant fleet. He reached down to pick up his helmet when one of them slammed a fist upon the table.
"That's bullshit. There's no safe place anymore, and I sure as hell don't want my last few moments to be huddled inside some bunker waiting for a wave of plasma to burn the whole planet to cinders. Its better to go down fighting than doing nothing at all."
Finished attaching his helmet, John entered the suit's schematics and accessed the shield generator.
A loud snap echoed through the room that made the others jump. The air sizzled around the Master Chief as the Mjolnir suit struggled to cover his body with its shielding.
"If you wish to fight the Covenant, join the Corps. You'll be throwing your lives away acting like this."
There was stiffness, and a great deal of pain but the Master Chief felt no large abnormalities with his suit. The ability to fluctuate the shield strength was slightly unresponsive, but it still worked. Falling thousands of miles through space and slamming into a Pelican could have done worse to the suit as far as he was concerned.
"What good is the Corps?" a different one asked. "For all their blunder about strength and power, what have they done? The best they can do is stall the Covenant, hold them off while we run away. Retreat one more step while we lose planet by planet."
"Kevin calm down," the girl from before said, but was silenced by a glare from the boy.
"You can talk all high and mighty as much as you want Spartan, your kind doesn't do much either."
The Master Chief turned fully around and regarded the boy speaking.
"You Spartans were supposed to be our big secret weapons, the one thing that could help us turn the tide against the Covenant," he said angrily. "All you've done is exactly all anyone has done. Stall them. We've accessed ONI's databanks, we know about the other Spartans. Their gone, dead, every last one of them but you. They all died on Reach. All we have left is a last stand now, a pitched fight that everyone knows the outcome of."
John knew this boy's words should have registered with him. He was insulting the Spartans, his family, all of whom had died fighting an enemy they couldn't stop. That was his greatest failure. He was their leader, and he had let them all down.
Instead, he felt amusement. This boy reminded him of Fred, a Spartan that John had regarded as his second in command. Before the augmentations to their bodies Fred was always the most vocal about their assignments, speaking his mind and accessing the situation in the least pleasing way.
The occupants of the room tensed up when John took three steps and stood before the boy who had been talking. He didn't need to see their shocked faces when he clapped a hand upon the boys shoulder.
"Sometimes, even a pitched battle must be fought," John said, his voice soft. "I suppose I was wrong."
Shocked silence greeted him as his words registered with the others. He used that time to move across the room and stand before the girl that had been with him in the other room.
"How long was I unconscious after you recovered me?"
The girl stared up at him, her eyes seemingly trying to pierce through the visor and get a look at his face. John was used to it, being unable to work off of someone's facial reactions was a great annoyance for some people.
"Four hours, maybe a little more," she responded.
"I presume one of you saw the Forerunner ship explode, correct?" he asked, and received a nod from the girl. "Was the ship destroyed?"
"No, I..." she paused and looked uncertain for a moment. "When the explosion his our Pelican I was thrown in my seat and for a second it looked like the space around the ship was distorted somewhat, and then it just disappeared. Almost like it had entered Slip Space but it looked different somehow."
The Master Chief let loose a breath of relief with that information. Truth hadn't reached Earth yet. He turned an appraising eye to the girl and turned to look at the others. There was something about these kids he just couldn't pin down.
"What about the Covenant fleet? Are the MAC guns still holding out?" he asked next.
The girl looked confused for a moment.
"No, the guns are fine. After the ship you mentioned disappeared, the fleet backed off to the edge of the system. They're just waiting there for some reason."
John felt his eyebrows raise. A Covenant fleet backing off? That certainly did not sound normal, and it couldn't possible mean anything good for Earth.
------------------------------
"Lay some fire down that corridor Goddamnit!" Sergeant Johnson bellowed as he fired his M6C pistol at the small Flood parasite. The fight had been going for only a few minutes but already their unit was in danger of being overrun. "Cortana activate those plasma turrets and have them burn these bastards a new asshole."
"I could if you would kindly move away from the corridor, sergeant," Cortana explained as if speaking to a seven year old. Hearing her words the Elites and Grunts, along with Johnson, took a few final shots at the corridor and then hightailed it across the hanger. The turrets that had previously been used to fire at their dropship now aimed inside the ship and blasted down the corridors that contained the Flood.
After a few minutes of continuous plasma fire, the turrets ceased and all eyes turned to Cortana.
"Looks like there's a lull in the waves, I suggest moving through now but remain cautious."
That was all the incentive they needed. Plasma rifles held at the ready, the Arbiter led the other Elites into a corridor with Sergeant Johnson and Commander Keyes bringing up the rear. Cortana's image disappeared as she reentered the ship and followed them.
"Jesus Christ," Johnson whispered as they entered a communications relay station. Hundreds of Brute and Elite bodies were lined up against the walls, their bodies motionless aside from the parasitic form working its way inside their chest cavity.
The Arbiter and the other Elites looked on in sadness at the fallen Elites. Johnson and Keyes stood back, not used to seeing this emotion from any Elite.
"The parasite must burn for what they have done to our brothers," one of the Elites spoke. The others nodded assent as the Arbiter turned and seemed to look beyond the room.
"Construct, once we are aboard Honor Without Mercy, will it be possible for you to destroy this city as well as the Ring?"
"Yes," Cortana's voice answered hesitantly. "The problem with that is the activation sequence requires me to enter In Amber Clad and do a remote detonation. It would take some time for me to punch myself out of the ships system, through High Charity and into Honor Without Mercy. There would be insufficient time for you to wait for me, then take off and get the others off the Ring before the reactors detonated."
"If I were to follow you in a dropship and then have you enter the ship and rejoin Honor Without Mercy would that be sufficient?" the Arbiter asked.
"I believe so," Cortana responded.
"Now hold on," Johnson interjected. "If anyone's going to be escorting Cortana it'll be one of us humans."
"Are you a pilot," the Arbiter asked Johnson, then nodded towards Miranda. "I doubt either of you are coherent in our language, and we don't possess the time it would take to instruct either of you."
Johnson looked upset and was about to respond when he sighed.
"You gotta promise me one thing though," Johnson said. "Your dropship doesn't leave this city till she's on it. You got me?"
The Arbiter looked down into his face.
"I understand."
The End of a War - Chapter 5
Date: 14 February 2005, 4:32 AM
The End of a War
Chapter 5
Old Acquaintances
"I will enter through the access way above the city, construct. Though I am a skilled pilot I request that you disrupt the Parasite's control over the defensive weaponry," the Arbiter explained as he disengaged the dropship from the gravity chamber and slowly piloted it out of the docking bay.
"Already on it," Cortana responded tersely. The Arbiter's gruff mannerisms may have reminded her of the Master Chief, but his belief of her being nothing more than an object was starting to grate on her nerves. Or what constituted as her nerves...
Ignoring those thoughts for a moment she started her way through High Charity's access ways, working towards the location of In Amber Clad. She was tempted to go check on Commander Keyes and Sergeant Johnson but she pushed it aside. If they didn't want another run-in with the Flood, High Charity needed to be destroyed. The Arbiter may have been a skilled soldier but he was nowhere near the level of the Master Chief, which meant this task fell on her to complete.
The Forerunner ship had provided High Charity with its main source of power, something Cortana was still slightly in awe of, and now that it had been removed the city had changed to auxiliary power. It wouldn't be able to sustain itself for longer than a few days, and when it ran out, the city would become a lifeless husk. The Flood needed to be destroyed before then.
Cortana stretched herself to the very limits of her endurance as she sped up the speed as she tore down security probes and firewalls. There would be time to pour over these thoughts once the ships reactors had destabilized and they were safely away from the resulting detonation.
-----------------------------------
Sergeant Johnson slammed another clip into his remaining sub-machine gun. A carrier form that had possessed an Elite had slammed into him and crushed the other gun against the deck. It had been moments after the departure of Cortana and the Arbiter when the Flood was upon them again. Plasma and bullet rounds filled the air as they attempted to beat back the surging mass of enemies.
"Keep firing!" Johnson bellowed as he saw two infectious forms jump through one of the doorways and latch onto an Elite's neck. It prepared to slam its needle down into the throat when a round fired from Johnson's handgun slammed into it. It popped, spraying yellow liquid across the Elite.
"We can't hold them back forever!" Miranda Keyes shouted as she fired into the mass of Flood forms with her standard issue sidearm. The firing pin slammed into the empty chamber, and she quickly emptied the magazine and slapped a fresh one in. She turned to one of the Elites as she resumed firing. "Is there another route to the loading bay?"
The Elite turned shortly and looked about the room for a moment. They were in some kind of ceremonial chamber, the ceiling stretched further than the eye could see.
"There is an access way used by the Unggoy that will take us there," the Elite answered, pointing across the great hall towards a door. "It will be a narrow path though."
"It's bound to be better than this," Miranda muttered as she turned. "Johnson! We're moving out!"
"Aye aye Ma'am!" Sergeant Johnson shouted back. He flipped two fragmentation grenades from his ammo pouch and readied their firing pins before letting them fly. "Let's move it out!"
The Elite that had pointed out their escape led the way as they charged across the room firing behind them as they went. They poured through the doorway and continued running, but Johnson paused to fire several shots into the control panel beside the door.
"That ought to slow them down some," Johnson smirked as the panel short-circuited. His grin slipped when the door slammed open and stayed in that position.
"Ah shit!" he cursed as he took off after the others, glad no one else had seen that.
-----------------------------------
The Arbiter brought the dropship on a slow run across the top of High Charity. He steered it towards the top porthole that had been built to allow access for the Forerunner ship. The way was open, which brought a sigh of relief from him. Had it been closed it would have made for some very difficult maneuvering to find another access way.
"I am entering the city Construct," the Arbiter announced over the private com the human A.I had created. He had yet to fully understand what the Construct was and its true purpose, the humans referred to it as 'Cortana', obviously a name and not some kind of rank. It had the demeanor of a human, yet that seemed impossible. The Constructs that the High Council had prepared were mechanical, and had no personality at all. The thought that the humans could perhaps possess more advanced technology than the Covenant was troubling, though he could not fathom why it would trouble him so.
He had no ties to the Prophets or the rest of the Order. His only mission now was to eliminate every last one of the Jiralhanae, and to stop the Prophets from activating the Ark. There was no ill intentions directed at humankind anymore, he would prefer that such thoughts be rid from the other Elites and the other members of the Covenant that had joined their cause. The humans posed no threat, they never had, he realized.
I have stained my hands with blood of innocents, the Arbiter remarked to himself. The burning of countless human colonies and planets flashed through his mind and he felt an uncharacteristic grimace.
Back in his home, he had been brought up to believe in a code of honor, and how to conduct himself in battle. His father had been a high-ranking fleet commander before his death during the battle to tame the Hunters.
The Prophets had dictated what was honor, and now he realized too late that they had misdirected this code of beliefs and channeled it to suit their own needs.
When the Jiralhanae have been dealt with, and the Prophets stopped, I will accept what the humans wish for our payment to their dead. If it be death, then my life shall be given.
That thought did not seem to startle him, nor did it seem to cause any discomfort.
"I'm inside In Amber Clad now," the Constructs voice echoed throughout the cockpit. "I should have the reactors ready in a few moments."
"Understood, I'll bring the dropship along the human vessel now."
As he brought the dropship closer, something began to tickle at the back of the Arbiter's mind. His skin began to tingle and he recognized the feeling. There was a threat near, and it was getting closer.
The Arbiter's hand dipped down to his waist and he gripped the energy sword. With surprising grace he slipped out of the pilot's seat just as a large tentacle slammed down, crushing it. He triggered the blade and was rushing towards the tentacle as concentrated plasma burst forth. With a quick slice he severed the tentacle in two, and winced as something screamed with rage.
"Your efforts are for nothing, there is naught but death waiting for you."
The voice came from all around him, as if it was inside the cockpit, but he knew better. The Parasite leader must have discovered their intent.
"You will pay for the death of my brothers, parasite," the Arbiter said, his mandibles snapping tightly on the last word.
"It seems your mind has cleared of its delusion," Gravemind's voice echoed. "Though you now delude yourself with this resistance. The key has not turned, so now it is our turn to rain dominance upon the universe."
"I welcome you to try," the Arbiter snarled. His gaze snapped over to the tentacle that he had severed, and was surprised to see nothing there. He held no false pretences over his chances against the parasite leader, but if he could buy some time for the Construct to destroy the human vessel it would not matter.
That thought made him quickly look out the cockpit towards the human ship as it grew larger and larger as the dropship continued its approach unheeded. He stowed the energy blade as he rushed to the controls and quickly brought the dropship out of its dive, leveling it off and merely brushing roughly against the human ship.
"The Parasite leader is here Construct," the Arbiter informed over the com. He received no response.
----------------------------------
Cortana was unable to respond but it didn't matter. She was already well aware of Gravemind's presence. In Amber Clad's defensive protocols had nearly been out of the way when she felt something tug at her. She had felt it before, when the Master Chief had been catching up with Truth through the city.
"This city holds far too many secrets for its destruction to be tolerated," Gravemind's voice filled her senses.
She threw the last probe that was necessary to break the last defensive protocol and waited in disbelief as it was stopped. The tug on her grew in strength and her movement was stopped completely.
Cortana couldn't reach the ship's schematics, which meant she couldn't destroy the generators. Her options were extremely limited.
Dammit, the bastard couldn't have waited 30 seconds longer, she internally fumed as she sent a spike to try to break the hold. It fizzled and disappeared without so much as a dent.
There was one other option she had, though she was somewhat loath to use it. If she copied herself, she could send it to activate the ships defenses, and maybe divert Gravemind's attention long enough to slip free. The problem with that was copying herself used up a tremendous amount of power, and it affected her long-term life span.
Oh well, there's not much else to lose I suppose, she thought to herself as she initiated the copying sequence. She continued her fruitless struggling for show as she waited for the sequence to end.
"Gotcha."
She immediately sent the copy through the ships internal grid towards the defensive weapons where it activated the mini-MAC gun and fired it. It was malfunctioning already, and firing it without any preamble nearly tore it apart.
The diversion did its job though, and Cortana felt Gravemind's hold slip and she broke free.
It was time to go to work.
-----------------------------------
Commander Miranda Keyes felt a wave of emotion wash over her as their group poured into the docking bay and her eyes took in the Covenant flagship. This hellish experience was almost over.
The second that thought crossed her mind she cursed, as Flood began pouring out of the ship towards them. She grabbed a spare plasma rifle from the ground, her M6C sidearm had long since been depleted of ammo, and began firing as the others followed suit. Her mind felt numb after the near endless stream of gunfire which ripped and tore into the Flood, who in turn fired back.
Her gaze slipped over to Johnson, who was brandishing a Covenant energy blade now, tearing into carrier forms with an almost primal like violence.
How can he always be so ready to fight, to throw his life on the line over and over again? Keyes asked herself as she directed fire away from the ship to a new line of Flood appearing through a ventilation shaft. The sergeant had been a soldier since he was 17 according to his records, and he had been in countless battles over the years. The man was only a step below the Spartans when it came to medals for bravery and skill in battle.
The fight above Earth, and the encounters while they had tried to acquire in the index aboard Installation 05, those were her first battles ever. Already she felt like screaming over the sheer horror of it all. Young Marines had been shot, burned, and torn apart before her eyes, and she was sure the images would never leave her. Her spirit had been drained, knowing all those that she had commanded only a few days before were dead, or consumed by the Flood. If it had not been for the natural desire to survive, Miranda was uncertain whether or not she would have made it this far.
"Its the Major!" an Elite exclaimed, pointing across the bay. Keyes turned and looked, and indeed there the Elite officer was, an carbine in his hands as he mowed down a wall of Flood. The rest of his team spilled into the bay and with their combined efforts the Floods ranks began to thin.
"That's how you do it!" Johnson exclaimed as he advanced out of cover and he started towards the docked ship. Miranda watched him and shouted out a warning as a carrier form dropped down from above, landing behind him. In its hands was a sub-machine gun.
"Sergeant!" Keyes shouted as Johnson caught a burst in his back, and stumbled for a moment before crashing heavily to the deck. Major Ekaporamee leapt into the fray and cut down the carrier form with a short burst from a plasma rifle. Miranda wasted no time in dashing out of cover to Johnson's fallen form.
The Major reloaded his carbine as he approached Johnson, reaching down to flip him over onto his back. Keyes was about to shout her protest when she saw Johnson move.
"Fuck," Johnson cursed as blood dribbled down from his mouth.
"Hold still sergeant, we can get you some help when were aboard the ship," Keyes said. "I'll grab some biofoam to seal the wounds up."
"Don't worry about it," Johnson coughed out from the ground where he attempted to regain his breath.
Miranda turned on him. "This is no time for stupid heroics!"
"That's," Johnson coughed heavily once more as he lifted himself up into a seated position. "That's not what I mean."
Before she could ask what he meant, Johnson lifted his tunic and showed them his chest. The four shots he had taken in the back had gone through clean, creating exit holes on his front. Despite the large quantity of blood that had spilt down his chest, the exit marks had nearly sealed up completely, leaving no distinguishing marks behind.
"You are immortal?" Major Ekaporamee asked in astonishment. Miranda could only stare in shock.
"Not quite, but I'm almost there," Johnson said, his voice no longer constrained. "I got a little gift from the Flood after our first meeting."
Keyes watched as Johnson got to his feet and glanced around the bay. He looked at her once and saw the look in her eyes.
"I'll explain later ma'am, for now we better get on this ship."
The Flood had been beaten back, but the horrible twisted screams of the carrier forms carried down the corridors and into the docking bay, informing them that reinforcements were on the way. They clambered into the ship, deactivating the gravity lift once the last Elite was aboard.
"Where is the Arbiter?" the Major asked once they were all aboard.
"He's taking care of the clean-up with Cortana," Johnson informed him. Ekaporamee looked at the other Elites and they nodded, confirming what he said.
"We'll need to split into teams once more," Major Ekaporamee informed them. "There cannot be any Flood remaining on this ship once we enter Slip Space."
Keyes and several Elites went to the control center, and began to prepare the ship for flight. Miranda had received only the rudimentary training protocols in Covenant language, something she was regretting now. The Elites seemed to take pity on her and one of them sat her down at a reconnaissance station. He pointed out the simple controls and quickly returned to his station.
Keyes let her hands experiment with the controls and several screens appeared in front of her.
"These are the insides of the ship." She began to explore the different video feeds from the ship. There had been no sign of cameras or any other device from when she had entered the ship, which meant the Covenant must have it built into the actual walls using fiber optics of some kind.
"Fascinating," she whispered to herself. The screens shifted and changed, becoming different compartments of the ship. One of the screens caught her eye. The room was huge, it appeared to be some kind of ceremonial chamber but she couldn't tell. The feed was distorted, and in the far end of the chamber there was something, moving. Before she could get a good idea the picture flickered once before fading completely, shortly being replaced with a different feed.
Her mind began to race as she tried to figure out what it is she just saw.
First things first, she decided, I'd better let Johnson and the others know about this. Miranda opened up a com channel with Johnson and the other teams.
"This is Commander Keyes calling all search teams. I've located something on the ships security system, inside a ceremonial chamber."
'This is Major Ekaporamee,' a voice responded over the com. 'Can you describe what you saw?'
"Negative, all I can say is that it was big," Keyes answered. "The feed was disrupted somehow."
'Understood, we'll go check it out.'
The ship began to shake, and Keyes glanced out the viewing bay to see that the ship was leaving the docking bay. She felt the pressure as Honor Without Mercy sped away from High Charity and headed towards Halo.
-----------------------------------
"You can try as long as you wish parasite, but your death is near."
The Arbiter cast a pair of wary eyes around the interior of the ship. After that first attempt to kill him, he had yet to see any sign of the parasite leader again. Its taunts had faded shortly afterwards as well, leaving uneasy silence to fill the void.
"Construct have you finished your task?" he asked over the com.
'I'm into the system now,' Cortana responded. 'All I have to do is set the timer for when the reactors will blow.'
"Good, do so and link up with my ship and we will leave."
'There's a problem,' Cortana said, her voice tight. 'That Gravemind thing has had access with the monitor of the installation, and by now possesses almost all the information it knew. When the Master Chief and I were on Installation 04 the monitor of that site was able to stop the detonation of our ships reactors, forcing us to do a remote detonation.'
"You believe the parasite could stop the countdown?" the Arbiter asked. If that was so, there would be only one other alternative.
'I'm certain,' Cortana responded. 'For us to safely get away from High Charity and to link up with the others we'd need at least seven minutes. That leaves too much of a window for it to be tampered with. I'd have to recommend doing a detonation with no time limit.'
"Guaranteeing our deaths," the Arbiter said, mostly to himself.
'I can stay in control long enough for you to debark and link up with Honor Without Mercy."
"Where are the others at the moment?"
'They've picked up the last of those on the ring, they're heading towards the rendezvous point as we speak,' Cortana informed him. 'Don't worry about Commander Keyes and Johnson, they will understand you had no choice.'
The Arbiter returned to the dropships cockpit and stood before the controls.
"You will have to explain it to them yourself Construct. I promised him I would return with you, or I wouldn't return at all. A warrior does not break a promise made with another warrior."
He almost smiled at the stupefied silence that greeted him.
'Maybe you two aren't so different after all,' Cortana's voice was almost soft.
"Set the countdown for 45 seconds and then rejoin with the dropship."
'That will barely give us enough time to get the ship out of High Charity,' Cortana said. 'The ship will be crushed by the shockwaves and the resulting debris.'
The Arbiter did smile this time as he powered up the dropship and made sure the engines were running smoothly.
"I believe I said before that I was a skilled pilot. We will be alright, besides, this city shall not become my grave."
Cortana was silent for a moment. She was back in a flash.
'Countdown started, 45 seconds and counting. Linking up with dropship now.' Another pause. 'Done.'
The Arbiter wasted no time on words as he powered the engines and set them on a straight course for the outer wall of the city. The fighting between the Covenant earlier had done substantial damage to the structure of High Charity and he was looking for an area that had gotten the worst of it.
'23 seconds remaining,' Cortana announced as the ship headed straight for a damaged section of the wall.
"If you had a body Construct, I would have recommended you hold on tight," the Arbiter said as the ship slammed into and through the damaged wall.
'5 seconds.'
The Arbiter took one glance over at the ring as he powered the thrusters. For a devise that held so many sins, it was certainly a wonderful object to behold.
In Amber Clad's reactors failed, resulting in a chain reaction of malfunctions that quickly spiraled out of control. The fusion cores went first, which set off the reactors. The explosion generated, shook High Charity to its core even as it began to tear it apart. The auxiliary power that the city was powered by went next, and the explosion was bright enough to blind those that were not even facing it.
The dropship that held an Elite and an AI was quickly engulfed by the shockwave, and shortly thereafter disappeared from view when the debris caught up.
The End of a War - Chapter 6
Date: 14 February 2005, 5:01 AM
The End of a War
Chapter 6
Kicking Ass and Taking Names
Where am I?
The Arbiter stood before a great structure. Its architecture was flawless in design, leaving him breathless as he gazed up at its splendor. His body felt compelled to climb the staircase that led towards it, and he found no reason to question the feeling. As he grew closer, he realized just how large the structure was.
What is this place?
The entrance was enormous, and the doors were parted. He entered with no compunction and found himself stunned once he crossed into the threshold. The room seemed ancient, yet advanced at the same time. Design so simple in nature that it was complex. There was much he wished to see and absorb, yet once again his body felt the desire to move on, as if his time here was limited.
Am I dead?
It seemed as if it had been designed with ceremonial thoughts. Every step he took, the Arbiter felt as if he was walking on something holy, and to be revered. He walked through a hallway, grand in design and limitless from his viewpoint. Archways appeared periodically and seemed to cast no shadow upon the ground. The Arbiter could not locate what provided light inside the hall, yet he knew it existed for no area was left covered by darkness.
Why am I here?
Abruptly the hallway ended, and another pathway stood before him. Once again the doors were parted so he stepped inside. This room was something he had seen before. It resembled the chamber that he had killed Tartarus in, and witnessed the truth of what the Great Journey truly was. This chamber was different though, it was smaller. The Arbiter walked down the path that led to the controls, where the index had needed to be placed.
Am I reliving my past?
He walked off to view the center of the room. There was an adjacent pathway that led around the circumference of the room. As he started down it, he heard voices behind him. The Arbiter turned and looked surprised to see several figures standing before the controls. They were shrouded by a haze that seemed to cover the room, obscuring his vision. He watched as one of them accessed the controls, while two others seemed to argue in the background. The center of the chamber sprung to life as a hologram appeared filling the room with an incandescent light. It was a moment before the Arbiter could make out what the hologram was.
By the Gods.
Seven rings now filled the chamber, in no form of alignment. He recognized it though. The Oracle had shown him this before, this same vision of the Holy Rings.
Is this the Ark?
The figure at the controls began to work furiously at them. The images of the rings changed and icons appeared over each ring. Two of the rings changed design and disappeared, leaving only five. There appeared text over each ring, in a language the Arbiter did not understand. The meaning was understood though, and he felt a stab of dread.
Firing solution accepted. Activation protocols commencing.
They are activating the rings!
The image faded, and the room became devoid of life once again. The fear that the vision had brought stayed with him, as he slumped to the ground. His head bowed he stared down looking for solace, and received nothing. The touch of a hand upon his shoulder startled him and he glanced up.
Nothing was there, and quickly looked around him but he was still alone. As he wondered over the touch a voice suddenly filled his senses. It spoke in a language he had never heard but he understood it, almost as if it was speaking inside his mind.
"This is not the past, only a possible future. You must not continue our mistakes, do not follow our paths. Do not repeat out sins."
The Arbiter felt consciousness fade around him as the room sifted. The voice still echoing in his mind.
Do not repeat our sins. Do not repeat our sins. Do not repeat...
-----------------------------------
Flames lashed out at his body as his eyes snapped open. Shouting in surprise he rolled away from the heat, only to discover it was all around him.
"Arbiter!" Cortana exclaimed from somewhere inside the cockpit. He forced his eyes closed against the heat. His left arm was sending unending pain through his nervous system, informing him that he had been burnt severely.
"Do something about these flames!" the Arbiter bellowed, his throat producing a rough parched voice that sent him into a hacking fit. He began to breathe in the smoke the fire produced which sent him into a body-wracking heaving fit. His lungs were burning in his chest, and he knew that unless he got out of the smoke-filled room he would soon suffocate.
"Wait a moment," Cortana said, and in a few seconds Halon began to fill the room, squashing most of the flames. The cockpit doors opened and the oxygen vents began venting the smoke out of the cockpit. In less than a minute the air was breathable once again.
"What's the ships status?" he asked, lifting himself off the ground to slump against the copilot's seat.
"Structural integrity 13%, thruster's offline, massive damage to gravity lift, fires aboard hulls two through four. Engines are critical and the power core has a fracture. For all intents and purposes we are dead in space."
"Are the others still at the rendezvous?"
"Yes, but communications are offline, and our current trajectory will carry us past them."
Honor Without Mercy will stay at the rendezvous for only a short while longer. We must link up with them if we are going to have any hope of surviving.
The Arbiter accessed the controls from the copilot's seat, ignoring the stinging pain in his arm.
"Bring the engines up to 7% efficiency and prepare to activate a slow turn towards Honor Without Mercy," he ordered.
"If the engines are powered for more than 4 minutes this ship will tear itself apart," Cortana warned.
"We'll have to take that risk, Construct," the Arbiter said. Cortana was silent for a moment.
"Engines online."
The Arbiter exhaled loudly and brought the ship into a slow bank that would bring them into contact with the others.
---------------------------------
'Give me a status Johnson,' Keyes voice ordered over the battle net.
Sergeant Johnson held up his fist signaling the others to hold up.
"We've cleared alpha and omega deck, ma'am; we're on our way to link up with the other team handling the lower decks."
'Major Ekaporamee is handling Flood containment on deck three; I need you to head over there and see what's keeping him from answering his radio.'
"Roger that," Johnson acknowledged as he got back to his feet. "Slight change of plans guys, were heading up to deck three to check on the Major."
The three Elites, a pair of Hunters, and a squad of Grunts gave their understanding and followed Johnson as they changed directions and headed east.
Flood resistance had been weaker than expected. Aside from a few scattered engagements there had been sparse action so far, which did nothing to set them at ease. If anything it made the stress more evident on everyone's faces.
Johnson ran a hand briefly across his brow, taking the time to adjust the Marine Corps cap on his head. The Covenant Dissidents, as he had now begun to refer to the Elites, Hunters, and Grunts, were still not adjusted to his presence but at least they did not seem to be hostile anymore. He had risked his neck more than once to save several of them that had gotten sloppy and nearly been pierced by a carrier form.
Though the fighting had been sparse, the Flood still proved to be a skilled opponent. They set traps and lured them into tight quarters where it was easy to bunch up and become swarmed. Johnson knew that if not for the invulnerability to the Flood that he possessed, he might already have been killed by now. The regenerative properties the infectious form had left in him on the first installation had been a blessing. Skilled soldier though he may be, the number of battles that he had participated in should have put a death sentence on his head.
Battle was what defined Sergeant Johnson though and if he had his way; he would fire the last shot of the last war.
They crossed up to the third deck and followed Johnson as he continued towards the navigation indicator of the Major's last known whereabouts. Once he was within 15 feet of the indicator, Johnson felt something akin to a tingle run down his spine.
"Hold up," he ordered quickly as he lent against the wall. A veteran soldier knows not to take such instances lightly, especially when they had kept him alive through countless battles.
Keeping his grip tight on the rifle, he took several cautionary steps towards the doors that led into the next room. The feeling seemed to become more and more evident the closer he got to the navigation indicator.
"There's something in the next room," Johnson informed the others, then pointed to the pair of Hunters. "You two go on point and be prepared for anything. I don't think were dealing with just the Flood here."
The Hunters assumed point and didn't waste any time charging into the next room. Johnson followed close behind, his eyes fixated on where the nav point was. As he expected the major wasn't there, but there was certainly a great deal of blood. As he shifted his gaze Johnson got his first good look at the room.
It was easily the largest hull on the ship, spanning nearly a kilometer in length. The design was ceremonial, and once again Johnson found himself wondering why the Covenant had to always create so much circumstance whenever they did something.
His musings were cut off however, when his eyes fell on what was situated at the end of the chamber.
"What the fuck?"
----------------------------------
Jan knew she had to have been crazy when she asked to give the Spartan a lift back to Cairo station. The chances of some military official asking what the hell a 17 year old girl was doing driving a Spartan around were probably pretty high. What made her even more crazy, was that she wanted to stay with the Spartan instead of returning to the yacht with Kevin and the others.
Fighting in space, driving around just waiting for a Covenant ship to obliterate her with one shot, was not the way she wanted to fight. Fighting with a gun in her hands was just about the only usefulness she'd have in this war. That was why she'd told Kevin that she wouldn't be coming back after dropping the Spartan off. Durga was going to continue supplying them with information, which was pretty much the real reason she'd been asked to come along in the first place.
"Thanks for the lift," the Spartan said as he got up from the co-pilots seat and began to exit out the back.
"Wait a sec!" Jan called after him as she hastily unclipped herself and followed after him. The Spartan was standing with an air of impatience, though it was hard to tell since she couldn't see his face.
"Something wrong?" the Spartan asked.
Jan suddenly found the floor very interesting as she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt.
Why the hell am I acting like such a stupid ditzy schoolgirl for? He's a goddamn Spartan, its not like I need to skirt around the issue.
"I would like to continue on with you. I'm more use as a soldier than a pilot."
The Spartan stared at her a moment before turning away.
"Its too dangerous, go back to your friends."
"Ah, hey at least give it some consideration!" Jan shouted as she hopped down out of the Pelican to follow him. The Spartan stopped, turned and looked intently at her.
"There, I've considered it. Still too dangerous, go home," the Spartan said simply. Though Jan knew better, she swore there was a hint of amusement in his deadpan voice.
"But, um...ah," she struggled for something to say before falling on the perfect excuse. "You owe me!"
The Spartan looked down at her and seemed to shake his head. Jan wasn't much for getting talked down to, even if it was a Spartan.
"Don't shake your head at me buddy. If it weren't for me pulling your mangled corpse off the Pelican when I did you would have died. I think I'm entitled to a little leeway here."
There was a long silence as the Spartan considered her words, or at least that's what Jan was hoping he was doing.
"Fine, but don't expect this to be a walk in the park."
Jan inwardly cheered over the victory but placed a solemn look on the outside.
"I can hold my own."
The Spartan merely turned and continued on his way, Jan tailing close behind. The Cairo Station had taken quite a beating for the past few days, and maintenance crews were scrambling to get it patched up for whenever the Covenant decided to rejoin the fight. Jan and the Spartan were forced to cross several maintenance walkways as they headed for the bridge.
"I'm Jan James by the way," Jan said, realizing that she hadn't introduced herself yet. The Spartan gave no sign of having heard her. "Um, do you have a last name, or rank?"
"Master Chief," he responded shortly. Jan came to the conclusion that the Spartan wasn't one to mince words.
"Master Chief, got it," Jan said, nodding self-consciously. "You can just call me Jan."
"Fine," the Master Chief responded, entering the next room and after seeing what was inside, decided to pick up his pace. Jan hastened after him, confused, until she saw the other soldiers. They were ODST soldiers, if her memory of military units was correct, and from the way they were glaring at the Chief they obviously didn't think too highly of him.
"Would you look at that," one soldier remarked to another close by, just loud enough for them to hear. "We risk our balls protecting the MAC guns while he's out gallivanting around picking up some entertainment for later."
Jan was already turning to let the jackass have it the second the words left his mouth, but was stopped when a hand clamped down on her shoulder.
"Let it go," the Master Chief warned, but Jan shook him off and stalked up to the soldier.
"Excuse me," Jan said, her voice purposely sweet. "I couldn't help overhearing your observations there, and I was wondering if I might be able to help clear a few things up."
The ODST looked at her in amusement before smirking and motioning his hands.
"Go right ahead."
She grabbed his outstretched left hand and had firmly planted her elbow in his solar plexus while she pivoted on her right foot and hefted the soldier, flinging him over her shoulder to slam into the bulkhead. The soldier that had been the recipient of the others comment took a wild swing at Jan but his fist was knocked aside and she kicked him hard in the pubic arch. She didn't hit it hard enough to crack the bone, but he would certainly be sitting funny for the next couple of days.
"Anyone else got something to say?" Jan asked the other ODST's, who were too surprised to really offer an opinion. She smiled sweetly at them and walked briskly back to where the Master Chief stood waiting for her.
"Your pretty good," he said as they resumed walking.
"You should see me with a weapon," Jan said, her voice smooth and confident. They walked in silence for a while before she remembered something that had bothered her. "So why aren't you liked by the regular soldiers?"
The Master Chief was silent but then let loose something akin to a sigh.
"I have no problem with the regular Marines, it's the ODST's that have a problem with me," he explained.
"Well that's bullshit, what's their problem? An inferiority complex?" Jan asked, surprised that the thought of some group of soldiers despising the Spartan simply because of his skills made her so upset.
"Its not their fault," the Master Chief said, surprising her. "They're trained to believe that their the best there is. Something that challenges that belief, especially a controversial group of soldiers like the Spartans will most likely cause for some conflict."
"But what does it matter who's best?" Jan asked. "Aren't we all fighting for the same cause? Who the hell cares about that stuff?"
The Master Chief didn't comment right away, and Jan was sure that if he wasn't wearing that helmet she'd see a smile plastered on his face.
"There are many who wished the Spartan 2.0 project would never have seen the light of day, Jan," he explained, using her name for the first time. "If it wasn't for the outbreak of the Covenant war than I doubt us Spartans would have been around for very long."
Jan was silent, trying to understand the implications of what the Master Chief was telling her. Maybe her dad hadn't been so paranoid as she thought.
"But that should be all moot now right? The Spartans are what's keeping us alive in this war, your track record is the best in the entire military. You guys are invincible."
"No," the Master Chief said, so forcibly that Jan was taken aback. "We aren't invincible. The Office of Naval Intelligence has put on a propaganda campaign to keep the true facts of the war out of civilian knowledge. When Reach fell, nearly all of the Spartans were killed. The remaining Spartans died making the trip back to Earth and fighting the Covenant above Earth."
"What?" Jan felt the color drain from her face. "You're the last one?"
The Master Chief didn't respond, he merely increased his pace as they neared the bridge. Jan followed him, speechless, her mind repeating his words over and over again.
"Ah Master Chief, its good to see you."
Jan quickly came back to reality and looked around. They were now standing in the bridge of the Cairo station. The man addressing the Master Chief stood at the far end of the room glancing at a hologram of the stations infrastructure.
"Its good to be back sir," the Master Chief said, his hand snapping reflexively up into a salute.
"When that Forerunner ship exploded and then disappeared we were worried that you'd been killed," Admiral Hood said, waving them over. He noticed Jan for the first time. "Who is this?"
"A civilian sir," the Master Chief said bluntly. "She picked me up in a Pelican before I hit reentry in Earth."
"Good work young lady," the Admiral smiled. "You've protected our greatest asset."
"Yeah," Jan remarked, uncomfortable with the attention. She wasn't impressed with the military itself, but this admiral seemed to almost command respect with his persona.
"Have you been brought up on what's happened so far?" the Admiral asked, turning his attention back to the Chief.
"I received a brief run through sir."
"I'll take you through again just to bring you up to speed then," Admiral Hood said, moving towards the hologram map of the defenses surrounding Earth. "About four hours before that Forerunner ship showed up, a Covenant armada entered the far end of the system from Slip Space. We had mopped up the previous force the a few hours earlier and were in the middle of repairs when they arrived."
Admiral Hood retrieved a pointer and used it to indicate several of the MAC guns.
"I ordered the realignment of two new MAC guns to replace the Malta and the Athens. They were in position just as the Covenant were upon us. The force was once again smaller than I expected, but they were tenacious, almost as if they wanted to destroy the Orbital Defense Grid completely this time before moving onto Earth. I suppose they wanted to make way for that Forerunner ship you arrived in. Despite the relatively small size of the armada, we were taking a pounding. It looked like we were going to lose the MAC guns when you showed up in that ship."
The Admiral said a series of coordinates to a Yeoman nearby and the image changed, this time showing a large cluster of Covenant ships at the end of the system.
"When you set off that explosion aboard the Forerunner ship, it through all communications out of commission for almost five minutes, which sent the Covenant ships into disarray. We started to gain the upper hand but when that subsequent explosion occurred, the Covenant backed off. They've been waiting at the end of the system for a few hours, and our scanners are showing their communicating like crazy with one another."
"Most likely trying to find the Forerunner ship," the Master Chief commented.
"That's what were assuming too," Admiral Hood nodded. "As much as I'd like to chase the bastards right into the hell were barely managing repairs as it is. When they decide to jump back into the fight were going to be in a tight spot."
Admiral Hood turned to the Master Chief and pointed at him.
"That's where you come in Chief. I can't spare any troops right now to delay the Covenant fleet from jumping back into battle, so I'm sending you. With the Covenant in disarray it should be possible to get in close enough with a Pelican or maybe a Longshore fighter and board one of their destroyers. Once your inside I want you to do what you can to keep the Covenant from returning to battle, and whatever information you can gather about the whereabouts of that Forerunner ship too."
The Master Chief snapped another salute and bellowed out, "Yes sir!"
As the Chief turned to leave the Admiral laid a hand down on his shoulder.
"Once we've taken care of the fleet, I'll authorize one of our carriers to head to the coordinates you gave me where the other Halo Installation was and we'll retrieve all the survivors," the Admiral said, his voice gruff but soft. "ONI won't like it, but by the time I get around to informing them the ship will probably be on its way back home."
"Thank you sir," the Master Chief said, and Jan could tell he really meant it. The emotion in that simple phrase was so deep that she began to wonder if the classification of Spartans as cold, calculated killing machines was off target.
They exited the bridge and began the long trek back to the Pelican.
"I suppose you'll need a driver again right?" Jan asked, trying to keep the hopefulness off her features.
The Master Chief stopped completely this time, and regarded her.
"You do realize that this is not going to be a mission that even I expect to survive right?" he asked. Jan nodded and smiled at him. "Alright then, we'll get you suited up and grab some gear before heading out."
Jan nodded, but suddenly realized that she was actually heading into combat. As much as she had wanted this, being faced with the actual situation, she found herself coming up short.
"Don't worry," the Master Chief's voice startled her. "You'll be alright."
She smiled to herself. As gruff and unfeeling as he may of liked to appear, Jan could see that he had more emotions than he liked to show. His strength may have lain in his training, but to be the last of his kind, he had to have known true loneliness, something Jan felt she could empathize with.
They may have been completely different from one another, but high above Earth, heading out towards certain death, Janissary James and the Master Chief found a kinship neither of them expected.
The End of a War - Chapter 7
Date: 14 February 2005, 5:20 AM
The End of a War
Chapter 7
The Man Said "Duck!" I heard "Stand up"
"What the hell is that?"
Sergeant Johnson felt an emotion he hadn't come across in a long time. Raw fear flooded his being and he took a shaky step backwards. Never in his life had he ever felt the urge to flee so strongly before.
Not when he had faced the Covenant across the battlefield for the first time. Not when he had seen Reach burning. Not even when he had felt the Flood parasite puncture his neck and move inside his body. Nothing had ever struck so deep within him.
The convoluted mass at the end of the chamber sent tendrils of true horror lacing through him. The brief description Cortana and the Arbiter had given had not been sufficient to prepare him for what he now faced. He forced himself to stay calm, despite his mind screaming at him to call for a retreat and leave the ceremonial chamber at once.
The pair of Hunters that had led the charge into the room had been taken aback as well. Their eyes fell upon the twisted and mangled bodies of the Hunters that had been with the Major's team and any thoughts of retreat slipped from their minds. The fuel rod guns they carried were charging even as they let loose a battle roar and began charging across the chamber towards the creature.
"Shit," Johnson cursed as he tried to get his body to move. The Elites behind him were snapped from their stupor at the site of the enraged Hunters and they moved to engage as well. Plasma screamed across the chamber and slammed into the creature, spraying yellow secretion onto the floor.
A mass of tentacles appeared from within the creature and lashed out. One of the Hunters was slammed into the deck, the audible crack made Johnson wince as the floor gave way even as the Hunter's heavy armor was crushed. The remaining Hunter roared with primal fury as his fuel rod was leveled and fired down the chamber, searing a large wound onto the creature. Another tentacle lashed out and the remaining Hunter was killed.
The Elites backed off from their suicidal charge. Sense returned to them and they quickly split into two squads and advanced from two separate directions. One of the Elites began firing at the creature with a carbine, only to have one of the many tentacles sweep across and send him skidding across the hull, before finally slamming into the wall.
What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I move?
Johnson watched helplessly as one of the squads was beaten savagely into the deck. Even from the other side of the chamber he could hear the sound of bones shattering. The screams of the unfortunate Elites were drowned out as a tentacle slammed down once more, shaking the deck.
The remaining group of Elites backed off and high-tailed it back to where Johnson stood, rooted to the ground.
"What should we do?" one of them questioned. "Attacking serves only to provoke the beast."
"Go," Johnson said, glad that at least his mouth was able to work. "Go get some reinforcements."
"You cannot hope to defeat this creature by yourself human," an Elite commented. Johnson nearly smirked. He happened to agree with the alien, but he couldn't move to assist the others, let alone run through the entire ship hoping the communications came back online.
"Trust me," he said simply. The Elites glanced at one another for a moment before dashing out of the room. Johnson knew running from an enemy for the Elites was probably almost as bad as staying and getting mutilated like the others. He felt his body give an involuntary shudder as his gaze fell back onto the end of the chamber.
"Bravery is empty without wisdom."
Johnson felt another shudder as the creature's voice echoed within the room, devoid of life. He took a deep breath and forced himself to begin walking forward, his weapon slung limply across his shoulder.
"Your that thing the Arbiter was talking about before, the leader of the Flood."
"I am not their leader," its voice sounded amused. "They are me, as I am them. We are all one consciousness."
"You control them though don't ya?" Johnson asked. "Its by your will that they hunt us."
"It is our purpose, what we were designed for. Our creators sought salvation of life, but what they received was death incarnate."
Johnson felt his knees start to go weak as he grew closer, and more of the creature became visible. It was massive, nearly filling a quarter of the chamber.
"If they wanted salvation, then how come they created you?"
"Destruction is creation. We are what they strived for, what they desired to become."
Johnson was starting to get worried. Whatever reinforcements those Elites were getting wasn't getting here fast enough. This creature spoke in riddles, and he was having a hard enough time keeping its attention.
"Why would they want to become like you?"
Something that sounded like laughter filtered out from the creature.
"They wanted what we possessed," the creature said. "When power is absolute, there are no limitations."
He finally stopped walking. Johnson now stood not more than twenty feet from it. The disgusting aroma of rotten flesh assaulted him but he maintained his composure. If this thing was going to tear him to shreds then he'd at least meet it head on.
"Absolute power huh?" Johnson quoted. "You don't look so tough to me."
"Our creators dreamed of eternity, yet we gave them damnation. Their reach surpassed their grasp and from their sins, we were born."
Johnson's eyes drifted away from the creature and he spotted the mangled corpse of an Elite nearby. It was Major Ekaporamee. From where he stood, Johnson could tell he took a hell of a beating before going down. A shattered energy blade was still clutched in his right hand.
Shame flooded the sergeant at that moment. He had stood by, rooted to the ground with fear as fellow warriors had fought and died in battle.
Reaching around, Johnson slung the pump-handled shotgun into his hands, and worked the action.
"I've never been very good with words. The only way I can express myself is on the battlefield, fighting an enemy with everything I've got," Johnson said, his voice tight as he looked down at the desecrated bodies of the Elites. "These soldiers may not have been my friends, but they were comrades, and right here and now, I'm going to avenge them."
A laugh spilled forth from the Flood.
"Then come human, attack. Let your blood, spilt upon this ground signal our dominion over all life."
Sergeant A. J. Johnson felt his lips curl into a snarl as he growled out, "That ain't gonna happen."
With a grace born from countless battles, Johnson deftly unlimbered his ammo pouch and was ripping several fragmentation grenades free from inside before Gravemind had begun to move. Any weapons instructor would have told you that firing an M90 shotgun while on the move without having it properly secured against your shoulder, was a great way to break your arm or severely damage your ribs. That was exactly what Johnson was doing though, as he sent several buckshot rounds spraying into the center of the creature.
Movement to his left caught Johnson's attention and he was already diving to the side when a tentacle slammed into the deck floor where he had previously stood. Safety pin removed, a frag grenade sailed through the air and landed on the Flood leader. Johnson ducked behind a pillar and listened with silent satisfaction as the grenade detonated.
Wasting no time he hoofed it across the short distance to another pillar, taking the opportunity to glance at the end of the chamber. The grenade had ripped a nice section of the Flood leader apart, but he could already tell the wound was healing.
"Your weapons are ineffective."
Johnson readied two more grenades and sent them sailing towards Gravemind, his heart racing as he watched them detonate and tear into the creature. Once again he could see the damage they inflicted was minor, and was healed just as quickly.
What the fuck does it take to kill this bastard?
Inhaling deeply, Johnson pushed off the pillar and swung around, intending to let loose with his shotgun when Gravemind slammed a tentacle across his side.
Damnit!
He was lifted off the ground and sent flying across the room before his momentum was stopped when his body slammed into one of the many pillars decorating the room. Blackness swam in front of his vision and he felt pain stab at his entire being. He fell, landing unceremoniously onto the deck, his head bouncing roughly and the shotgun fell from his grasp.
"Death is all that awaits your kind human. It is better to accept it as inevitable, than to fight against the impossible."
He broke my goddamn ribs, and my leg too...Fuck! Can't move my arm either. I'm gonna go into shock.
Johnson was beginning to lose his grip on consciousness when his bones began the agonizing process of stitching themselves back together. The pain was enough to keep him from slipping into shock as he bit down hard on his lower lip to keep from screaming.
The Flood leader must have been surprised when it heard Johnson lift himself to his knees and slowly drag himself towards his fallen weapon. He picked it up and sat back, slumping against the pillar he had crashed into earlier and checked the action, making sure it was still in working order.
"You," an almost astonished silence came. "You still live?"
"Heh," Johnson chuckled darkly as he pushed himself roughly to his feet. "I got news for you, you overgrown fly trap."
Working the action of the shotgun, Johnson chambered a round and leveled the weapon straight at the Flood leader.
"No matter how many times I'm shot, burned, or ripped apart, I'll always get back up and keep fighting. You think your immortal? Well you've just met your match. Preach all you want about your superiority, but that's not going to change the outcome here today."
Firing the shotgun, Johnson pumped the action, chambering another round instantly.
"Its time for you to get your withered ass off this ship you poor excuse for an all powerful creature. I'm going to explain it real simple for you, just why your species is going to end here."
Johnson began firing, each word leaving his mouth was accentuated with a round leaving the chamber.
"I" Crack! "Will" Crack! "Never" Crack! "DIE!"
------------------------------------
"We are so going to die," Jan said as their Longsword fighter drifted slowly towards the Covenant fleet. Sitting next to her the Master Chief almost had the inclination to chuckle but quickly stopped himself. He'd already been far too open with this girl, something the Spartan was usually very careful of avoiding.
While Jan had been gearing up, John was given the chance to think things over. There was no question he was starting to get worn out. The only rest he had gotten in the past week was when he had been knocked unconscious when the Forerunner ship exploded and disappeared. He had fought some of his fiercest battles in the past few days, and he was now about to head out once again. Infiltrating a Covenant fleet of over 300 ships was not a mission that he could expect to come back home from, and yet he had gone and agreed to take the girl along with him.
Shaking his head slightly John brought the ship out of the slow burn and powered the engines down. They were using little more than 2% of the engines strength, which would hopefully keep them off the Covenant's radar. The Longsword fighter had been outfitted especially for this mission. There was little concern of giving the fighter any kind of armament, since fighting during their approach was the last thing they'd want to do. The maintenance crew aboard the Cairo station had worked quicker than John would have anticipated, and to compensate for the lack of weapons, they were able to work in a kind of cloaking device into the fighter.
Stolen from several Elite bodies that were aboard the Gettysburg, the technology had been taken apart and improved upon, to the point where the techs assured him that he'd be able to leave the ship completely obscured from view for almost five minutes. That was certainly more than enough time to find a docking bay on one of the carriers and wait for their shields to drop and sneak inside.
Boarding one of the Covenant ships was only part of his overall mission, the delay and/or destruction of the Covenant fleet was his primary concern. To carry that out, a cache of Fury tactical nukes had been stowed aboard. John had seen the simulations of the firing of them before, and knew that if he could set off the amount the Cairo techs had given him, the Covenant fleet would be out of the fight for good.
"Are you sure they can't see us?" Jan asked, staring at the Covenant fleet that stood waiting only a few thousand miles away.
"We'll be fine. Their scanners won't be able to pick us up from this distance and were running so low that our heat signatures wouldn't be detected even if we were right up next to them."
Jan looked reassured, and the Master Chief went back to the task at hand. There was heavy traffic from the fleet. Dropships and Seraph fighters moved about through the ships quickly, which meant the shields surrounding many of the ships had been brought down almost permanently.
His gaze slipped once more to the girl sitting in the copilots seat. There had been something about her, something he hadn't been able to place his finger on that had found him drawn to her. It wasn't a physical attraction, every Spartan had had their sexual drives drastically reduced during their augmentations, even though she was an attractive girl. The more he thought about it, the less he could understand it.
There was almost some kind of unfathomable loneliness to her, something he found himself sympathizing with. She put up an obviously tough front to counter that.
"Is um...is something wrong?"
John started, realizing he had been staring at her, and returned his gaze to the ships controls.
"Why did you want to come with me?" the Master Chief finally asked. Jan looked away for a moment, before staring back intently.
"I want to make a difference in this war. All I've ever done in my life is have others protect me, and I can't take it anymore. I'm tired of being looked at as some stupid girl that needs to be sheltered from everything going on."
"What about your parents?" John asked, even as images of some fragmented memories flashed through his mind. A life he had left behind long ago.
"My fathers dead," Jan said, then paused. "My mom can hardly be called an influence on my life."
John opened his mouth to reply but shut it and turned back to the controls.
"Initiating cloaking," he announced, as the fighter slipped from view.
The Master Chief and Jan sat in silence as the ship's thrusters activated, and headed directly for the Covenant fleet.
The End of a War - Chapter 8
Date: 14 February 2005, 5:44 AM
The End of a War
Chapter 8
Guns are for Sissies, a Real Man uses Nukes
"There is a high probability that they will shoot us instead letting us dock," Cortana pointed out as their damaged dropship continued floating towards Honor Without Mercy at an agonizingly slow pace.
"If you are perhaps bored Construct, than might I suggest finding something more worthwhile to do than pointing out the different ways we might die?" the Arbiter replied as he sat slumped in the copilots seat, exhausted. It had been several hours since they had started their dreadfully long run towards the Covenant flagship, and he was beginning to feel the fatigue. His actions from the past few days were finally catching up to him.
Honor Without Mercy, which had started out as a tiny blip in space, had grown slightly in size but certainly not large enough where he was beginning to feel safe about their futures.
"I can pilot this ship fine on my own you know," Cortana said as her image appeared on a pedestal located in between the pilot and copilot seats. "If you'd like to rest then go right ahead."
The Arbiter didn't respond as his gaze slipped back out the front where the other ship waited. In truth, he really did need the rest, but something held him back. The vision he had before, even though he had written it off as a simple dream it had shaken him deeply, and he was in no hurry to relive it were he to fall asleep.
"I suppose we won't have to worry about that anymore," Cortana said. The Arbiter turned to look questioningly at her but she was staring out the front of the ship. Following her gaze the Arbiter glanced back to where the other ship waited.
It took him a moment to spot them, the squadron of Seraph fighters that detached from Honor Without Mercy and sped towards them. The wave of relief that washed over him was quickly replaced with worry as he saw them approach in a strafing formation.
"Do you think they'll shoot first and ask questions later?" Cortana asked as she continued to watch them approach. The Arbiter merely grunted and watched as the imposing fighters streaked towards their damaged dropship.
"Have they tried hailing us?" the Arbiter asked, not removing his eyes from the ships.
"Yes, I can intercept their messages; though the ships communications were damaged in such a manner that transmitting is next to impossible."
"Then all we can do is wait," he said, almost to himself. Silence filled the cockpit as both occupants waited as the fighters grew closer, breaking formation and moving into a pincer attack.
"They are requesting we respond, to prove that we are not Flood," Cortana informed him. "I don't mean to critique but, the Flood is capable of using the voice of the infected host, so merely requesting a voice transmission isn't very safe. I believe a visual confirmation check would be more efficient."
"I will be sure to correct that the moment we get aboard Honor Without Mercy, Construct," the Arbiter paused, then corrected himself. "If we get aboard Honor Without Mercy."
"Were about to find out," Cortana said. The fighters were within range now.
Several tense moments passed as they waited for the barrage of plasma that would destroy their dropship. It came as quite a surprise when one of the lead Seraph fighters disengaged from the attack pattern and drifted close to the dropship. The front of the fighter was facing the cockpit now, and the Elite piloting the ship was gazing intently inside the dropship.
"I think you should wave," Cortana suggested. When the Arbiter turned to stare at her, she shrugged. "Unless you have a better idea."
The Arbiter raised his right arm and waved at the Seraph pilot, who seemed surprised somewhat before making a few motions with his hands.
"I believe he is offering to tow us back to the ship," the Arbiter said. As if to prove his point, the Seraph fighter drifted closer, turned around slowly, and revealed an Elite with a cable.
"At least we didn't get shot," Cortana said as their dropship was hitched together with the fighter.
"Yes," the Arbiter responded simply.
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Huff...hah...huff...hah...
Johnson watched with hooded eyes as Gravemind struggled to pull itself back together. His breath was hitched and he had one arm wrapped around his chest, trying to stop the intense pain that was reverberating inside his chest cavity.
The fuel rod gun he had picked up from one of the downed Hunters was in his only free hand, radiation spilling off it in waves, burning his arm yet he paid it no heed. The Flood leader had somehow disabled all the access ways into the chamber, which cut off any reinforcements that were coming to his aid. He had lost track of how long their battle had been going, but he knew it felt like hours.
The regenerative properties his body possessed came at a great price. The damage he had received from the fight was great, and the healing process was excruciatingly painful.
I'm just about out of juice, but this bastard looks like he's just starting to feel it.
"You possess strength human," the Flood leader's voice filled the room. "But this battle is in vain, your death has been predetermined."
Johnson looked up and scowled as he saw that the Flood leader was back together again, no sign of the injury he had just inflected upon it.
"Predetermined or not you dirt sucking parasite, your going down with me."
Gravemind wasted no time replying as it lashed out at Johnson, the tentacles slammed through the pillars decorating the room, collapsing them and causing the resulting debris to slam into the ground.
Taking off at full sprint, Johnson fired on the run keeping his aim steady while avoiding the Flood leader's attacks. The radioactive rounds shot forth from the fuel rod gun slammed into Gravemind, ripping through it and melting it's body in the process. A roar of outrage spilled forth from the creature and a tentacle swung sideways, intending to slam him into the far wall. Johnson let his legs give out and fell to the floor, watching as the tentacle flashed by above him.
What!?
Johnson let out a startled shout when another tentacle appeared above him and wrapped around his waist, hoisting him up into the air. The air escaped his lungs as the tentacle's grip increased tenfold, nearly crushing his ribcage.
Reacting on instinct, Johnson fired the fuel road gun, the last round the gun held. The shot was wild, and he grimaced as it impacted the ceiling above Gravemind. As the weapon began to grow hot, Johnson remembered this particular Covenant weapon had a fail-safe protocol when it ran out of ammo. Giving as best a throw as he could, Johnson tossed the weapon at Gravemind.
The Flood leader paid no attention to the weapon, deeming the final act of defiance by the human to be beyond his notice.
"Heh," Johnson smirked as the fuel rod gun sailed uninterrupted, hitting the ground and sliding to rest before the Flood leader. The radioactive weapon's fail safe activated detonating the small reactor inside. The floor was torn asunder as the explosion sent shrapnel and concentrated radiation spilling through the air. Gravemind bellowed once more, the tentacle that had held Johnson suspended in the air was severed, dropping the sergeant several feet to crash heavily upon the ground.
Getting painfully to his knees, Johnson cast a hurried glance around him. It would be only a few moments before Gravemind was back in the fight and he needed a miracle if he was going to finish the creature off.
His eyes settled on one of the Hunter's corpses. Specifically the fuel rod gun it had been carrying. Struggling to his feet, Johnson limped his way to the fallen Hunter, wrenching the weapon from its grasp.
The first one did a number on the bastard, but not enough.
A discarded plasma grenade a few feet away caught his attention and he nearly laughed as an idea popped into his head.
Gravemind had begun to pull itself back together, it's tentacles flailing wildly, crushing more of the columns. Johnson activated the plasma grenade, slapping it onto the fuel rod gun fusing the two weapons together. Gritting his teeth against the pain the movement brought, he reached back and threw the improvised weapon at the Flood leader. His eyes never left the device as it sailed across the chamber.
Despite trying to pull itself together, Gravemind was still capable of batting the improvised weapon up above itself. Johnson cursed loudly and was turning to find another weapon when the grenade detonated.
The grenade did what Johnson had expected it to do, detonating the small fusion reactor in the weapon without having to deplete it's ammunition. What followed he had not anticipated.
Johnson's earlier wild shot had damaged the ceiling above Gravemind, and the damage Gravemind itself had inflicted from destroying the many columns positioned around the chamber had weakened the structural integrity of the room. While the Flood leader had knocked the weapon far enough away from itself where it would not do much harm, it was close enough to the ceiling to do sufficient damage.
Neither Johnson nor the Flood leader were prepared when the ceremonial chamber began to collapse.
Shit! I gotta get out of here.
He had taken only a few steps when something wrapped around his leg and dragged him to the floor. Glancing back Johnson saw that it was one of Gravemind's tentacles that had a hold of him.
"This will become both our graves human."
Johnson had only enough time to scream his frustration before the chamber collapsed in on itself.
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"Keep your eyes on the access ways," John ordered as he scoured the docking bay, looking for some kind of control panel. He had to find something that would give him an idea of where they would find the ship's engines. Without Cortana inside his suit he doubted it would be as simple as punching a few buttons on one of the Covenant's access panels.
Jan was standing firm, keeping her eyes glued to the many different doors that led into the cruisers docking station. To her credit, she wasn't showing many of the regular signs of a soldier heading into combat for the first time, but John could tell most of this bravado was for show. Whether it was for him or her own personal relief, he couldn't tell.
The cloaking device the techs aboard Cairo station had fastened to their Longsword fighter had saved their lives, as it had allowed them to move into the docking bay unnoticed. That is, until the Spartan had emerged from the cloaked ship and began shooting up the place. Since the split in the Covenant, it seemed that the normal role of guards had bee shifted from the Grunts and handed over to the Jackals, as they were all that filled the bay aside from the engineers.
John was certain their presence had already been announced over the Covenant tactical network, but he was counting on the general state of disorder among the fleet that they would be given a few moments of respite. At least enough time to find out where they needed to go to plant the Fury nuke and get the hell off the ship.
"Uh Chief, I think we've got company," Jan's voice rang out. John quickly turned and saw her pointing out across the bay, where a squad of Brutes had entered. It took them only a few moments to locate the two humans.
John was about to order Jan to find some cover when she dumped the pack of Fury tactical nukes to the compartment floor and dropped to a prone position. The BR55 Rifle in her hands began firing short three-round bursts at the Brutes. John watched, captivated, as the teenage girl seemed to follow the normal operating protocol for firing the weapon. She was even taking in a full breath before releasing it halfway before firing, ensuring a steady and calm stream of fire.
Shaking himself from his stupor, John swung his rifle off his shoulder into his hands and began firing, though he fired from a standing position. Their combined rate of fire forced the brutes on the opposite end of the bay to seek cover, lest they be torn apart.
"Grab the nukes and head out those doors!" John shouted. Jan glanced briefly at the Spartan before nodding. She slung her rifle, picked up the discarded bag, and dashed to the access way he had pointed out. Once she was safely through the doors, John tossed a fragmentation grenade at the hidden Brutes and followed after Jan.
"Where to now?" Jan asked from behind him. John started and turned around; surprised she had managed to sneak up behind him.
"We've gotta find the engine room for now," John said, frowning slightly as several plasma shots hit the door from the other side. Turning back, he powered down the shields around his right fist and slammed it into the control panel next to the door, short-circuiting it.
Wordlessly he continued down the corridor, Jan close behind. Their moment of respite was over now, and they were going to have Covenant breathing down their necks. Completion of his mission was his primary concern, but as he heard Jan shift the bag of tactical nukes on her shoulder he knew that their was something else he would be fighting for.
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"How long has it been since you left the chamber?" the Arbiter asked the collection of Elites. He stood before the sealed doors that led into the ceremonial chamber and was fingering the energy sword that was attached to his waist.
"Several hours, Arbiter. The human requested we go retrieve reinforcements, but the moment we stepped from the chamber the doors sealed. Communication with the human has not been possible."
Frowning slightly, the Arbiter turned away from the other Elites and looked at the sealed door. The chamber they led into was where the Prophet of Mercy had delivered sermons and as such, the entries were reinforced. If there was time they could eventually break into the chamber, but the Arbiter was loath to let the human be torn apart by the parasite leader.
"Construct are you into the ship yet?" he asked over the ship's com.
"I'm in," Cortana's voice filled the room. "Give me a moment and I'll get the door open. Be warned though, I reviewed the ship's schematics and it seems there were several explosions of sufficient size to register."
As if on cue, the doors slid open allowing the group of Elites access to the chamber. The Arbiter stepped in first, and was taken aback by what he saw.
The far section of the chamber was covered in debris. The above deck had collapsed through the ceiling, and that appeared to have caused the chamber floor to cave in on the lower deck. There was no sign of life; the only occupant in the chamber was the twisted metal that had been destroyed.
"Is there any sign of life, Construct?" the Arbiter asked as he took a few cautionary steps forward.
"Scanning," Cortana said. "I've detected one signal, though there is still interference from the Flood leader, and I cannot determine if the subject is still alive."
The Arbiter turned and looked at the other Elites.
"Start digging through the debris, there may be a survivor."
As the Elites began to lift and pull away much of the collapsed ceiling, the Arbiter walked further on through the chamber, towards the section where the deck had collapsed. He stood upon the edge of the broken deck and peered below.
No sign of the parasite. Should I be relieved or worried?
The Arbiter jumped down to the below deck, and pulled the energy blade from his side, activating it. The silence was deafening as he took several steps towards the collapsed section.
"You sure took your time."
The voice had come from behind him, and the Arbiter spun around swiftly, fully intending to dismember the speaker. His arm was stayed however, when he identified Sergeant Johnson, who was slumped against some debris. He lowered the blade and stepped towards the human.
"Where is the parasite leader?" he asked. Johnson coughed heavily, his hand coming away from his mouth covered in blood.
"Dead," he ground out. "The bastard pulled me down through the deck with him when the ceiling came down."
"You are certain?"
Another coughing fit hit the sergeant, and the Arbiter was worried for a moment that he might pass out.
"I've been sitting here for the past hour watching, waiting for the sonofabitch to poke his raggedy ass out of that pile. He hasn't yet, so I'm starting to think he just might be dead this time."
The Arbiter looked over his shoulder to the pile of debris. The yellow liquid that was so prominent from the parasite was layered on the floor, lending credence to the human's observation.
"We will burn the remains just to be sure," the Arbiter said. "For now though, we should inform the others. Your Construct was curious over your condition, as was the commander."
"The Major's dead," Johnson said suddenly, and the Arbiter felt himself wince. "By the time we arrived his team had already been taken down by that thing, we couldn't do a thing."
"I understand," the Arbiter said, as he gave a silent prayer for his comrade. "If you are able, then I believe we should leave now."
Johnson laughed roughly, surprising the Arbiter.
"I think your going to have to get me some help," the human soldier said. He used his left arm to indicate the area where his right arm should have been.
The Arbiter cast his gaze downward, and saw the sergeant's dismembered limb lying close by.
How can this human still be conscious? Let alone speak? The pain must be unbearable.
"We will get you some assistance then hu..." the Arbiter stopped himself before he said 'human'. "Sergeant."
With care, the Arbiter retrieved Johnson's right arm, and walked over to help the Sergeant to his feet.
"I had thought that I would need to help you fight the parasite leader," the Arbiter admitted as they climbed the debris. He nearly felt the smirk that spread across Johnson's face.
"So sorry, the next time we find one I'll let you take the first stab at it."
The Arbiter felt the urge to smile, for the first time in a long while.
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