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The New Allegiance by Murcu



Cell Destruction
Date: 6 May 2005, 5:27 PM

           It has been two hundred and twenty three years since the end of the Covenant Civil War. The start of which had been nothing more than a variation in the interpretations of the ancient religion of the Covenant. That, and the Brute's thirst for power.
           Inevitably, the Elites had come out of the war victorious. They just had higher numbers on their side. Not only the Grunts, the unstoppable Hunters, half of the Jackals, but also the humans. Though nothing compared to the technology and physical power of most of the Covenant forces, they were well known for their courage and devotion to a cause. The Elites had a word for all the common traits desired in a soldier, and after they allied themselves with the humans, they began using it for them. Heart.
           The Civil War was very short in comparison to how long the Covenant-Human war had lasted, taking only one Earth year. However, by the time it was finished, the total deaths were staggering. The Flood had taken its toll on both populations, plus the amount dead from the prior war. The Earth was down to a third of its population, and was running out of men. The Covenant had also lost their capital, having to destroy it after the Flood took it over; however, they were able to evacuate the vast majority of their population.
           Since that time, they have spread themselves far and wide across the planets, stretching out and interacting peacefully with other species, though they have yet to find any intelligence but the humans and themselves. The Brutes have been all but eradicated, and are being hunted to extinction. High prices are offered for Brute corpses or skulls, and their tough skins are used for protection in some populations.
           The Elite sided Covenant and humans officially joined forces shortly before the end of the Civil War, and, after much discussion, settled on the name 'The New Allegiance'.
           However, one thing was never completely resolved. Halo.
           The Oracle could tell only that there were other machines like Halo scattered throughout the galaxy, but could not explain where. Supposedly, these Halo structures could actually come in any size or form, and hold many different types of flood. Since this time, the New Allegiance has created a new division of specially trained soldiers whose main purpose is to hunt the galaxy searching for the Halos and attempt to disarm them. In the two hundred and twenty three years since the destruction of the second Halo, only three more Cells, which is what they call the structures, have been destroyed.
           Now, the Cell Destruction Division (CDD) found itself aimlessly flying through the galaxy looking for planets that might have a Cell orbiting them. The division, carried on only one ship, was made up of about six hundred soldiers and divided into four regiments each with it's own three companies. The Chief Company, in the second regiment, resided in the North barracks of their ship, called the Spartan Carrier.




           It was his third week on the ship, and Master Sergeant Steven Cornell was regarded by the men under his command as new and 'not worth the dirt on their boots' he had heard one of them saying. True, he hadn't seen any battle, but from what he understood, neither had any of them. However, he also knew that the CDD tended to be a job that was passed down, and most of the soldiers in the division had had parents or brothers or sisters who had fought in it.
           Him? He had no connection to the CDD. He had met a soldier once as a boy and had since dreamt of growing up to become one. He had enlisted into the New Allegiance military as a Private in the Planetary Infantry. Over the next decade he climbed the ranks, one after another, until finally he decided to go through the training program to become a Spartan, as they were nicknamed. He watched tens of others fail out of the academy, or just give up when training got too hard, and he almost did himself, but in the end, he decided to stick with it, and when he was handed his green armor he had to pinch himself to be sure he wasn't dreaming.
           Now here he was on the famed Spartan Carrier, the ship that had overseen the destruction of three Cells, and was what most people considered old fashioned. Granted, it did of course have all the upgraded and newest technology on board, including both plasma and lead baring weapons, but the style of it was outdated.
           It was built to look like the Pillar of Autumn, by request of the original Spartan, the 'Master Chief', whose rank and since been discontinued because of the false perception it gave to the barer. It had long metallic halls, devoid of most kinds of color, cornered rooms and catwalks without rails. The doors tended to be small and some even had metal grating on them. That style was so old fashioned, in fact, that when he had heard someone say that to him, he thought they were kidding. Metal grating was even considered ancient when the Pillar of Autumn was made, but here he was walking slowly by it as he made his way to the mess hall.
           The new style was a sort of blend between Covenant and human styles. Plenty of purples and blues, and curving, strangely shaped rooms, but also lots of fluorescent lighting with metallic patterns and areas. It was actually much more pleasing to look at then the dull drab look of this ship. Cornell guessed that they didn't have money to spend on making a ship 'look nice' during the time of the Covenant-Human war.
           The gray metal door in front of Cornell flashed green for a moment, then slid open, revealing a large room with low benches and tables which were all crowded around by humans and Grunts. On the other side of the room were larger tables for the Elites and Hunters, who tended to eat separately; not only because of table size, but because of a language barrier.
           By this time, most soldiers were forced to learn to be able to understand Grunt as if it was their own language. Among some of the steep requirements of the CDD, one of them was that all soldiers needed to be fluent in understanding them, and at least have a moderate grasp of Elitin, which is what the Elite language was called. The Hunters were far tougher, because they communicated in a completely foreign way. Instead of using sounds they relied on smells and the movement of the orange innards they show in their faces, stomachs, and upper backs.
           Cornell had heard from someone once what they looked like without any of their armor on, and after he had heard it, he felt sure he never wanted to see it himself. What he did want to see though, was one of them in a battle. Sure, he'd seen videos, but he knew there was no way it could possibly capture their true power and brutality on the battlefield, who's stories had been told from person to person since the start of the first war.
           The question was whether or not he'd actually get that chance. He realized the chances of actually finding a Cell while he was part of the CDD were as likely as one in two, or as unlikely as one in a billion. It was all chance.
           Cornell moved passed a few tables and took his seat next to one of his only friends in the company: Private Tenner Long. "Good morning, Sarge," Long said, looking over as Cornell took his seat. Long was in a similar situation to Cornell. He had no family or personal history with the CDD.
           "Good morning, Long." Cornell leaned down and pushed the button below the table that brought down the food. The kitchen was above the mess hall, and then everything was put on trays, which were directly over the table. Each table had a call button that would bring down a full tray so that the soldier could take whichever foods he wanted. When the tray descended from the ceiling in front of Cornell, he looked it over quickly to be greeted by the same selection he gets everyday for breakfast.
           The food they got out here was not of the highest quality, because it had to be able to survive long trips with minimal cost to the military. So what they came out with was a highly preserved, condensed, almost tasteless version of the most common foods. Sometimes, though, the higher ups would okay a visit to a nearby planet so the soldiers could have a 'morale boost' and get out to eat some real food. Of course, this would only on inhabited planets.
           Before Cornell could reach out make his selection, the tray started going back up. He reached down to smash on the call button a few times, but in vain. The tray kept moving up. Eventually, he realized that the few other trays that were down at that time were rising, and the general had made his way into the room. "Room, attention!" Cornell commanded. Apparently he had been the first to notice him.
           Within seconds, the entire mess hall was on its feet standing and facing with their eyes staring at whatever was directly in front of them. For Cornell, that was the small podium that was hardly used, which the General now stood behind. General Thomas Dryden was a man of about forty, but looked to be fifty. He had a heavily lined face and bore a tired expression even when he smiled. He came from a long line of generals; three of whom had been in CDD. He was extremely well respected, as he had been on the frontline of the last Cell that had been destroyed. It wasn't much of a battle, and no one had been killed, but he had been the one to convince the Board (who was originally very against the idea) that they should blow it up before landing on it. Most credited him with saving hundreds of lives.
           He cleared his throat, and Cornell heard the sound make its way through all the speakers in the Mess Hall. "Men," he started, pausing for a moment to look them all over, "Good news." Cornell knew what he was going to say. They were stopping. Morale time. He could see the men around him gradually breaking into smiles, and the Elites starting to do what they call a smile, which is opening only their two lower jaws slightly, and clenching the top two. "We'll be stopping at New Chicago. You'll finally all have a good meal, and be able to meet with some of the natives closest to wherever we land. You have thirty minutes to get ready, then we'll need you in landing positions."
           Cornell had only heard a very small bit about New Chicago. Apparently it started being settled by people about two thirds of the way through the Human-Covenant War, as a hopeful hiding place for what was thought might one day the human race's last survivors. Parts of it were heavily fortified and populated, but the majority of it was open grass areas and, surprisingly, completely unexplored.
           Thirty minutes later, Cornell found himself buckled down in the landing wing with the rest of his company. Things got very bumpy during landing, there was no finding a way around friction, so that the soldiers had to all secure themselves as the ship made its way into the atmosphere. Cornell closed his eyes and tried to imagine what New Chicago might look like. He tried to imagine what new species he might encounter, or what the culture was like here, or whether they even still spoke the same language. He hoped that maybe if he got some free time, he might get a chance to do a bit of exploring of his own. Man's thirst for adventure still hasn't died, Cornell thought to himself, even after all these years.



Cell Five
Date: 8 May 2005, 2:51 PM

      After all the formalities were done with, marching off the ship in ceremony formation, and finding out where they were to stay, and when to be where at what time, they were given free leave. Cornell had found out that he wouldn't have the chance to explore, because his platoon would have to be report to him three times daily, and he to his Lieutenant, Lt. Hopewell.
           Hopewell was another one of those people who had family in the CDD, but he wasn't nearly as respected as the general. Most of the regiment regarded him as weak and lazy, and rumors said that he had bribed his way into rank. Hopewell did do his best, however, to try and win back the hearts of his men, and as far as Cornell knew, he was an honest and just person.
           The town they had stopped in was called Frentic. It was underdeveloped, and one hundred percent human. However, the population had been living here undisturbed for so long that they had heavy, foreign, accents, and their language was gradually slipping farther and farther away from English.
           The buildings here were constructed mostly of wood and cement, but there were occasional metal buildings, and even a few of clay laying a short way outside of town. The entire look of it was backwards. Something from one of the many movies set in the American Republic era. Once they were all dismissed, Cornell made his way over to Private Long and a couple of others. "Hey, Sergeant," Long said, a smile spreading across his young and hairless face.
           "Private Long," Cornell nodded at him as a greeting. "How about we go look around town?"
           "Sure, Sarge. Ya' mind if Thompson comes long?" he said, still smiling, as he raised his arm and pulled Private Jeremy Thompson into their conversation.
           "That's fine," Cornell said quickly. "Either of you ever been here?"
           "Are you kidding?" Long said, "I never even left my planet until I joined the forces! What about you Thompson?"
           "No. My Uncle has been here though. But I think he was on the other side of it. Says it's a nice place. Good people."
           "Well, let's go look around, then. Check out the stores or something. Who knows, maybe we'll find some women..." the Sergeant said, winking at the two men. They both smiled, but to Cornell they looked like fake, business smiles. He didn't mind.
           He led the way as they made their way through the now flooded streets. Only one regiment had been let out in each town, so that the people living here didn't feel overwhelmed; but even with one regiment there appeared to be too many people for this small town.
           The streets were paved with clay, not bricked, but smooth red clay, as was the fashion in most sparsely populated planets like this one. As they followed the red streets down, passing a few stores that looked to have too many visitors already, Long noticed that the windows here looked as though they were made of real glass. They were dusted over and looked old. On Earth, nearly all windows had been replaced by a new variation on plastic that 'repelled dust' and always stayed 'crystal clear'. He laughed silently to himself at how old fashioned a lot of these places could be.
           The first store he walked into had a middle aged woman working the desk and it apparently sold special types of sweets which were supposed to be unique not only to this planet, but to this town. "Good morning," Cornell said to her, waving politely.
           "Gawming," she said, nodding quickly at him. "What woodoo like to haff?" Her thick accent poured out as she spoke, and it was amazing anyone even understood her. Cornell looked down through the glass case and then back at her. "What's in these things?"
           "Pard?" she asked, holding her hand to her ear.
           Cornell asked again, slowing it down and speaking clearly.
           The woman gave him a short wave and her face reddened. She turned away and walked in the door behind the counter, and came back with a younger woman. She said something to her, and then the woman spoke to Cornell. "What is it you're asking?" She could speak correctly, but her accent was strange and still very foreign.
           "I just wanted to know what these were made of," Cornell answered, relieved to be able to speak normally. He looked her over slowly as he spoke; she was an attractive woman probably in her early twenties with dark blonde hair which she had tied loosely up into a bun at the back of her head. Her eyes were a dark green, almost brown, and she wore a long tight dress that looked to be made of the planet's equivalent of wool.
           "It's mostly just sugar and Dren bread," she paused for a moment, looking at him, "You do know what Dren is, right?" Cornell shook his head, and looked at Long and Thompson for help, but they both gave him blank looks. "It's our planet's biggest export! It's a lot like the original Earth bread, but this doesn't need yeast to grow, and tastes a little different." Cornell told her that he'd like to try some. She handed him a small round piece of it, which looked a lot like a cake.
           It turned out to be good, and when he was finished, he went back inside to order another, and found that the woman was just getting off work. She met him at the doorway and asked if he had liked it. "It was great! I can't believe we don't get that stuff on Earth."
           "No, it's on Earth," she said to him, "It's just pretty expensive, and mostly common in Asia and Europe."
           "You've been to Earth, then?" Cornell said, raising an eyebrow.
           "Yeah, I was an intergalactic trader. In fact, Dren is our biggest export because of me," she said proudly. "But... I didn't make much money from it, because I was never very good at that sort of thing. That's why I'm working in a little shop now. Less stress." She smiled at him and he was about to speak, but Thompson and Long walked in an interrupted.
           "Sarge, what's taking you?" Long said; then seeing the woman, smiled at him and slapped him on the back. "Hey, we're going to go look around town some more, we'll see you later!" On that, he turned around and disappeared around a corner.
           After a brief and awkward pause, it was Cornell to break the silence. "Um.. My name's Steven, nice to meet you."
           "Hi there, I'm Ada." She reached out and they shook hands. "I have to walk a few blocks down to get something from a store for my mother. Would you like to walk with me?" her cheeks flashed red for a moment as she asked, but when Cornell smiled and nodded, they returned to normal.
           On the walk home, Ada explained the history of the planet and town to Cornell, telling him that it had been chosen as an ideal location for humans because of how alike it was to Earth. Not only that, but the planet was completely uninhabited, yet there were hundreds of little manmade caves and rooms with metal walls that would be perfect for staging a military defense in case of a Covenant attack. Apparently, when those places had first been discovered, people had tried to figure out what they were for, or some trace of who had made them, but instead all they came up with was the knowledge that these structures went far underground into the planet.
           The idea of unexplored caves and caverns excited Cornell, and as she spoke his imagination came up with a million possibilities of what the caves could hold. She mentioned that one thing had been found- a small blue orb with an indented silver piece running through the center. When she said that, Cornell's face turned pale. Guilty Sparks.
           After a minute of speechlessness, Cornell managed to stammer out a question. "They... That's all they've found?" She nodded. "And what... or how much exploring have they done?" his face suddenly showed a million wrinkles that hadn't existed a moment before. He was terrified.
           "Well, not much until recently," she started, looking concerned, "but now they've got a few hundred people exploring the caverns. Word has it that recently they managed to find something else. No one knows what yet though. We'll have to wait for them to come back. Not that they'll be coming here. They launched the exploration from the main city- Pattonton. I don't know when they're scheduled to be back but I think it's soon. Maybe it's already happened. I'm not sure."
           Cornell didn't have time to explain to her what was going on. He gave her one last look, then turned around and started running back to town. "Where are you going?" she yelled to him, a bit insulted.
           "I'm sorry! I have to go!" he replied, throwing a wave over his shoulder at her.



Cell Destruction- Part 3
Date: 17 May 2005, 1:46 AM

      This was it. He was on a cell. Under his feet was a power so destructive that it could mean the end of every type of life available. When he had made it back to the ship, which had landed in a wide open field near the town, he searched desperately in the mobs of green uniforms for his Lieutenant, even calling out his name several times. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found, probably still out on the streets somewhere. And why shouldn't he be? Cornell thought to himself, He has no idea what this place is.
           General Dryden seemed to have noticed the Sergeant's desperate face running around urgently looking for something, so he approached him. After a quick look at the rank on the side of his Class B uniform, which was only a short sleeve button up and wool pants, the general spoke. "Well, Sergeant, what has you so worried?" the old man's face was dull, and his voice showed only a slight bit of actual concern. He was clearly only looking for something to do with his time, or some company.
           Cornell snapped to attention and saluted. When his salute was returned, he spoke. "Sir, I have information vital to our mission."
           The general smiled at him with amusement. "Oh? And what mission is that?"
           "Sir, to rid the galaxy of every cell and destroy the threat of the Flood."
           This time Dryden laughed out loud. "What have you found here that could possibly help us with that?" He looked around him at the vast open landscape and harmless green grass and small trees. He took in the blue sky and white fluffy clouds, which floated leisurely by in whichever way the wind took them. He laughed again and shook his head.
           Cornell could understand his amusement, but kept a completely serious face. "This IS a cell, sir."
           This comment drew the old man's mouth into a frown, and he eyed Cornell suspiciously. "Why do you think that?" he said, his frown growing rapidly.
           "I talked to a native, sir. She said this planet is filled with man made metal caves and rooms, and that when they were exploring, the people here found a blue orb. She described it to me exactly the way the infamous Guilty Sparks looks in all the pictures I've seen."
           For a moment, the general looked worried, but he shook his head again and looked at Cornell seriously. "But you never actually saw the 'blue orb', right?"
           "Well... no, but I think the locals kept it, and probably have it on display some where. Or maybe in a lab, or something, sir."
           "Hm... Well, I'll go around and talk to some of the people here, and I'll get intelligence to gather a little information. You just go on and enjoy your day here."
           Cornell was distressed. This was an emergency, why couldn't Dryden see it? "But, sir-"
           "Don't worry," he cut in, "We'll take care of everything. Just don't worry. Oh and if you can, get the person who told you this information and bring him to me."
           "...Her, sir."
           "Hm?" Dryden asked, his eye brows raised.
           "Bring her to you."
           The old man smiled and winked. "Okay, bring her to me."
           When Cornell turned around he found a group of men from his platoon casually walking up to him. He took out his hand held GPS and pressed a button to see the time. It was the designated time for reporting; he put the computer back into his pocket and sighed deeply. He checked them off one by one mechanically, responding subconsciously to any comment they might have for him. His mind was racing through what was going on.
           Once they were all finished, he was about to go and start looking for Ada, but was cut off by Long and Thompson. "Sarge! How'd everything go?" Long said, a genuine smile spreading across his face.
           "What?" Cornell responded distractedly.
           "With the girl! Did you get some?" he laughed after speaking, but it was obvious that he was actually interested in knowing the answer.
           "What... Oh... no. Something came up." Cornell knew better than to start rumors among the grunts. "I have to find her... Could you guys do me a favor and keep an eye out for her? If you do happen to see her, just send me a message with your location and I'll make my way over."
           They both nodded slowly, as if waiting for their sergeant to explain the rest of the story to them, but instead, Cornell just turned on his heel and started walking back towards the small two-story town.
     

           The General had pretended not to be worried by the news, but as soon as he had turned around he could almost feel the wrinkles on his face deep. He sighed heavily as he walked through the halls of the empty ship. He knew that if there was any possibility of there being Flood on the planet, he need to act on it as soon as possible.
           There could be no taking chances.
           But this had never been done before; at least, not by humans. The entire planet would have to be evacuated. Only the Covenant had done this successfully, despite many attempts on other planets by the humans. Sometimes people refused to leave, claiming they would rather die at home than to live with strangers. Of course, they got what they wanted... Not only that, but this planet had actually always been a favorite of the old man. It was so beautiful to look at. The wide open sky with just a slightly different color than Earth's, the great shimmering oceans virtually untouched by any pollution, and the green continents spanning the great world.
           He turned and looked out one of the large windowpanes on his left. He could see the grass lean over as a breeze gently slid against it, and watched a wave slide along the open meadow. As he watched, he could almost feel the breeze touching his own skin. Again, he sighed, and moved on toward the bridge.
           When he walked inside there only two Elites and three humans moving around the room. They turned to look as he entered, then continued on whatever he was doing. It was time for him to confront the Elite general, tell him what was happening. He hated doing it, the monotony of tediousness of translating could be awful. The Elitin general was a bit strange; some called him over extravagant. He wore his shining gold armor proudly at all times, and as General Dryden approached him, he noticed today his helmet was off.
           "General," he said, getting his attention. The human's name for him was Hardy. The way these names were chosen, especially for Elites of his prestige, was he would be read a list of normal English names and then asked which he liked the sound of most. The name Hardy had been an accident; he had actually overheard someone saying the name, and told the readers he liked it. From then on, that's what he was known as.
           "General," Dryden said again, slightly louder. This time the Elite turned around, his massive body dwarfing the old man's. He cleared his throat. "I've received word that something has been discovered here." Hardy gave an inquisitive grunt to save time. "Yes. Something that's been described to me as the Oracle, or Guilty Sparks." The Elite remained silence. "One of my sergeant's claimed that he found someone on the planet who described it to him, saying it was found in old ruins that dot the planet. The machine, apparently is broken, and it's supposed to be at a museum somewhere." Dryden stopped and waited for the alien to catch up. It always amazed him how quickly Hardy was able to translate. It often took Dryden ten or fifteen minutes just to get through a sentence.
           Hardy let out a series of roars and grunts, then paused and examined Dryden's thoughtful face. He was obviously working at translating. As he thought, numerous curses came out of his mouth for every time he was having trouble. In a minute though, he had it finished. "We should find the one who knows of this, and question it." In Elitin, 'he' and 'she' were not words, and 'it' was used instead.
           Dryden put his hand on his forehead and rubbed his wrinkled face. Too much stress for an old man, he thought to himself. "The man who told me this has gone looking for her. He's going to bring her to me."
           The Elite nodded, then let out a few more growls, which translated into, "Then we will wait."





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