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Instalation Zero Six-Chapter 4 : Extermination of Renegade
Posted By: Samslink14<Samslink14@AOL.com>
Date: 11 November 2006, 5:26 am
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Field Master Fura Rudamee stepped into the gravity well of the Phantom dropship waiting for him, letting it suck him into it's belly, arriving on the deck surrounded by light blue armoured Elites. Without hesitation he walked forward and sat in the passenger seat nearest to the cockpit. He keyed the comm in his helmet. "Let's go." He said. He keyed it off and watched the other Elites sit as well just before a jerk of movement started the Phantom home. Through a video display, he watched Seraphs and Banshee's strafe the city, burning oval-shaped buildings, Phantoms and dropships also floating nearby, relentlessly destroying rebel structures. Troops loyal to the Covenant were instructed to fall back to their dropships and return to space, but hundreds of firefights were now underway, resulting in difficult movement.
Nearly bored, he zoomed in on a fight between two Covenant Hunters and close to forty rebels. The Hunter on the left fired a green blob from the fuel rod cannon it held at a charging Elite with a plasma sword while its blood brother concentrated on the bulk of the force, destroying files of Grunts. The sword-wielding Elite foolishly reached the first Hunter and leaped several meters into the air, slashing at the Hunter's head as it passed. The Hunter growled and ducked, extending the blades on its back at the same time. The blade of hardened plasma scraped against its helmet lightly, but doing no damage other than a scratch while the spines caught the Elite full force, bringing down the energy shields greatly. The Hunter began turning as the Elite landed lightly and made a run for the Hunter, perhaps hoping to get a shot for its exposed back, but it was too late. While the bond brother moved to protect the first Hunter's flank, it leaped forward suddenly, swinging its great shield into the Elite before it had a chance to change direction. With the energy shields in their lowered state, the Elite was dead before it had completely reversed its motion. The body exploded purple blood in all directions, soaking the Hunter and cut in half a dozen shredded pieces. A thrill and proud feeling of exhilaration rushed through the Field Master, proud of his powerful warriors. The Hunter turned back to the main group, its bond brother stepping away, no longer needing to cover his partner. Together they moved forward, firing many times and blowing bodies into the air. As the Rebels ran, they were slaughtered.
The Field Master clicked off the display with a smile. It was such great intelligence and strength that he needed in his group, the working together to guard flanks, the ease of killing a commander, slaughtering their own kind without emotion. Such qualities made the perfect warriors. He would be sure to find those two Hunters and personally transfer them directly under his command.
He turned to watch the other Elites, watching for signs of emotion, a hint of weakness or strength. Improvement was a constant for him. One Elite twitched as the gaze passed over him. Rudamee shot him in the face.
As the head fell to hang carelessly low, several Elites looked on with horror, but most didn't even flinch. "Make room for the strong." The Field Master replied to them. Most nodded, but several continued to stare at the blacked body in disbelief. Rudamee nodded to the others, which in turn shot the horrified Elites several times. There was a moment of silence before Rudamee spoke. "They fell bravely, so we brought their bodies to burn properly and remember." His Elites nodded again.
***
The Hunter Ugadi Ruso Kartu and his bond brother Ogidu Ruso Fizu stood before the carnage before them. What a fool that Elite swordsman had been, charging desperately at two Hunters like that. Such weakness and idiocy was what the rebels were.
But now was not the time to ponder such things. They needed a way out of the city. Less than four units away was the nearest Phantom, which unquestionably was their best way out of the city. Kartu began jogging silently towards the general direction of the Phantom, Fizu following without a word. They had barely gone half of a unit when a frantic sounding firefight could be heard, and it took little more time than two units to reach it.
Before them laid three rebel Shades positioned in the middle of the street connecting to an intersection. On either side of the street was a small rise, each side also topped with a Shade. In between the Shade on the left of the street and the middle one was a circle of Elite's, all firing plasma rifles and carbons at the Covenant squad across the intersection. Also on the side of the rebels were two files of Grunts, mirroring the Elites on the other side of the street, firing an arsenal of needlers and plasma pistols. Besides those groups, there were two Jackals, four more Elites, and twelve more Grunts, as well as a wide barrier of portable shields.
Beyond the rebels was the other side of the intersection, consisting of two Covenant Shades and eight Elites, plus twenty Jackals and a small party of Grunts scurrying all over the battlefield, waving their arms in panic. The smart and veteran ones were throwing Plasma grenades or firing their weapons, while the panicked cowards were cut down quickly.
Surprisingly, the enemy had their backs to the Hunters, who took advantage of their enemy's stupidity and lack of recon. The bond brothers crept to within a few units of distance without being noticed. Kartu nodded to his bond brother and they both simultaneously began to charge their fuel rod cannons. The alien had thought that the rebels would turn on them at the noise, but surprisingly, the charge of the cannons could not be heard over the din of firing plasma rifles, discharging overdriven plasma pistols, detonating plasma grenades, the steady thumping of Shade turrets, or the explosion of thousands of Needle projectiles.
Thus, two out of five rebel shade turrets were blown away instantly, green blobs of contained plasma shredding away metal and flesh alike, both the former and latter melting away even for seconds after the powerful fuel rod cannon shots died away. Next instantly in the sights of both Hunters were a group of Elites and two files of Grunts. Fizu fired first, his giant raindrop of energy dead-on the mark, contacting the ground directly in the center of the group of Grunts he aimed for. A lime-green explosion engulfed the stocky beings and threw their burned corpses thirty units into the air. Even before the bodies hit the ground, seconds after they had transcended the physical, Kartu fired his own second shot from his weapon, the watery plasma traveling to a circle of rebel Elites, just beginning to turn toward the new source of incoming fire.
As the outburst of plasma flared-up, there was a split second of which the Elites seemed to be impervious statues, where their shields flared blue to protect them. And for that split second, they had their second chance. The shields failed under the power, armor sizzling and contracting, crushing the bodies they were meant to protect, giant boils rising on burned skin, deceased Sangheili flying in all directions.
What remained of the rebel group turned toward the Hunters, one of the Elites left over finding a charging Hunter scarcely half a unit from him, its bond brother blowing away a third shade on the left rise. The shield mounted on Kartu's left shoulder smashed the Elite's body full force, hundreds of bones shattering as the body sailed two dozen units away.
Without hesitation, the Hunter lifted his protective shield against the nearest remaining Shade. Fortunately, both the remaining Shades were nearly in a line to him, so he could block both of the turrets at once, though not for long. He strafed left to put the nearest turret in between himself and the far Shade, keeping the latter from firing on him without hitting his friend.
With the appearance of the two Hunters, the Covenant warriors regained a sense of valor and charged forward, firing at the second Shade, which in turn was forced to ignore Fizu and concentrate it's force on the group approaching.
The turret firing at Kartu was unfortunately quite powerful, not like human projectiles which usually simply bounced off. The blows slammed into the shield, forcing Kartu to use his full strength to keep steady. Even still, he was forced slowly backward.
The Shade was a problem, but as long as the shade was there it would continue to keep him pinned. However, he knew that in a moment his bond brother would once again have his fuel cannon charged, and he would be able to take care of the troublesome weapon. True to his bond brother, Fizu ignored the Shade slaughtering the other Covenant and aimed his shot at the one firing at Kartu and let loose the moment his weapon was stimulated. The super-heated beam of green plasma hit near the top of the Shade, killing the gunner and slagging the turret's barrel, sending it flipping end over end at three rotations per second. The now-flaming junk hit the ground again across the intersecting roads, sixty units down the street, landing on the remainder of its third leg, screeching in friction, a large array of sparks leaping out as a result. As the piercing sound was just beginning, Fizu fired another blast of deadly lime at the second Shade, just turning to shift fire from the other Covenant to Fizu. The bolt shamelessly hit directly in the center, melting half of it and sending it sliding with out spin or altitude. The turret slid across the intersection at a great speed, crushing four Covenant Grunts, finally hitting the rise on the other side and gaining several units of height and impacting a building, crushing through the wall and exploding within. The two remaining rebel Jackals and few Grunts the Fizu left to the squad, which had weapons better suited to spread-out infantry work. The mix of races cut down the rebels easily, splashing the street in stains of purple gore.
Kartu marched over to his bond brother. "Well done." He said respectfully. "And good team work." Fizu nodded without speaking and started their continued parallel jog through the streets.
The apparent Elite in charge of the squad saw the Hunters leaving and shouted at them. "Hold! We must keep together!" But the Hunters ignored him.
***
Fleet Master Huta Fumammee watched several battle scenes on the planet through a dozen different light display screens in front of him. The one he watched the most, however, was the slightly zoomed in live picture of Seraphs and Banshees firing at the city, burning buildings and cutting down rebel troops and civilians alike.
He felt fairly proud of his troops. With minimal casualties, his battle group had single-handedly destroyed the second greatest rebel threat to the Prophets, as well as obtaining the information that they needed. They had taken the city so fast, and so efficiently that the giant Plasma torpedo launchers protecting the city from cruisers never got off a single shot because their power plants were taken and destroyed before any of the rebels could activate them.
Now, there was no battle. His troops were slaughtering the renegade Covenant, driving them into holes and then blowing up the holes around them, the very ones that they pathetically crawled into for protection. It was pure play, but as long as the renegades did not know it, they would continue to fight, which struck the Fleet Master as both ironic and humorous.
Impatience however, was getting the better of him. He wanted to leave this place, arrive at Halo with all speed, in glory and contribution to the Prophets cause. His place in the Great Journey would be high indeed.
Play would be soon over. As soon as the dropships, boarding craft, and Phantoms returned he would have his fleet glass the city and head to the coordinates found. Taking time to glass the entire planet would be pointless and time-consuming, as most of the rebels were in the city, and any who were not would not add up to be enough to be an annoyance any longer.
He turned towards the sound of opening doors, finding Field Master Fura Rudamee entering the bridge, flanked by the Ship Master Yuthru Rummamee, and the black-armoured assassin Yura Ujammee. His gaze dropped to the Elite's right claws, holding a documentary cube. He smiled. The coordinates. One step closer to Halo. He thought with a feeling of exhilaration filling his chest.
Fumammee could not say he disliked the cruel Field Master, for the same type of strategic cruelty ran through his own head. The greatest emotion he had for Rudamee was respect. Though accused of killing his own troops and lying to let it pass, he had a superior record of success, never having lost a battle. Fumammee believed the rumors that he killed his own troops and lied, but he knew that the Field Master did it for the best of his own survival. If he continued to kill weak troops and transfer strong and cruel ones under his direct command, he could eventually have the most powerful squad in the whole of the Covenant.
Fumammee used the same technique, many Masters did, Fleet, Ship, and Field alike, but in a different way. As Fleet Master, Fumammee did not need a reason to transfer better troops to guard him. He could simply fill out a few digital forms and have the troops reporting to him in less then forty time-units. Therefore, he didn't have to kill his own troops to get better soldiers.
As Rudamee reached Fumammee at the top of the ramp, he and Yura Ujammee knelt before him, head bowing quickly and popping back up again. "Excellency." He replied, holding out the documentary cube. "The coordinates and a few notes taken by Uta Lummamee, who was killed in action while negotiating with the prisoner."
Fumammee nodded, not questioning the Field Master, but still knowing the truth. "Thank you Field Master. You may leave to conclude the battle in the city. Report to me when you have done so." He then nodded to Yuthru Rummamee, who, serving the position of Ship Master onboard the fleet's flagship and being in second command of the fleet, had no need for a such formality as kneeling before his superior. "Rummamee, you will assist in battle orders as necessary. You may now take your place." He gestured to the command display.
Rummamee nodded. "Very good Excellency." He moved past them and began to study displays like he had been doing it all day. The Fleet Master liked this ability of Rummamee's to switch modes quickly as battle required. It was why he was second in command, and why he would recommend to the Prophets that the Elite be promoted to Fleet Master. "Field Master Fura Rudamee, you are dismissed." He said, slipping his hands behind his back.
The Elite rose. "Very good Excellency." He turned to leave, gesturing to Ujammee, who also rose to leave with him.
"The assassin may remain Field Master, thank you for your concern." The Fleet Master said sharply.
Rudamee looked at him in a short-lived surprise, then nodded. "As you order, Excellency." He turned to leave.
As soon as the Field Master left the bridge, Fumammee allowed Ujammee to rise and study the displays with him.
"Do you know your purpose here assassin?" the Fleet Master asked him. The Elite turned from staring at the displays to speak to the Fleet Master directly.
"To protect and to kill, Excellency. Protect greater staff, of such importance as yourself, and to kill whoever I am ordered to." He turned back to the displays, as if he had recited a poem by memory.
"'Whoever'?" the Fleet Master said.
"Yes. As your usual troops can handle the usual enemy, I am here to kill any unusual enemy."
The statement was true and perfectly spoken. The Fleet Master nodded. "Does any of this bother your mind?"
Ujammee turned to the Elite in surprise. "Killing? Of course not, I have killed all my life."
"No." said the other. "Does it bother you that that is your only task, perhaps forever to be?"
The assassin's surprise died away, his expression returned to that of a quiet but formidable warrior. "No Excellency, not at all. My purpose is both meaningful and understandable. I am honored to be given this task. The Great Journey will reward me at the end."
Fumammee nodded again. He knew that it was probably a lie, for the assassin was far too closely self controlled to speak truth to a Fleet Master about any strange thoughts, but that was enough for the higher authority. Ujammee was effective, and had no trace of betrayal in his mind. That was enough.
***
Far below the Command Center for The Illumination, the first flight of Seraph fighters had returned from the rebel planet, no longer needed. The fighters powered down, Elite pilots closing down power and weapon systems, shutting down the fighters and leaving the hanger to report to their superior officers. Less than half a unit after the hanger was deserted, one of the Seraph fighters opened, a ramp lowering to the Covenant metal. A shadowy man-shaped figure darted down it and moved to the side, where it again raised the ramp with the flip of a switch. The shadow moved silently across the bay, halfway out when another ramp to another Seraph fighter began to lower itself.
The Shadow cursed silently and moved behind several cargo containers, watching as a straggler Elite pilot jogged down the ramp and started for the exit. The shadow waited until the pilot had his back to him before bolting noiselessly across the bay, closing the distance rapidly. As the pilot exited the hanger, he noticed that the doors which closed behind him took a moment longer to closer than normal.
Before he could turn around however, the figure grabbed the pilot's abdomen and stabbed into his neck with a piece of silver metal, jerking across and slicing open its windpipe. The pilot never had time for a death cry.
The Elite which had just murdered his brethren dropped the body and licked the purple blood off its claws. Now in the light, the Elite was no longer a shadow, naked rather, and literally, but for the small dirty loin cloth around its waist, which he flattened as best he could. Tura Quagomee picked up the Elite body and slung it across its back, marching gleefully into the nearest storage area, throwing the body into the airlock of an empty methane living cylinder for the Grunts, who would be blamed for the murder. In the far back, he found a large box for himself, where he would wait for the Covenant to foolishly find and land on Halo.
The Prophets had no idea what Halo really contained, no idea at all. If this battle group where to land there, all life in the galaxy could easily fall, as the cruisers would provide the monstrosities with firepower and transportation. But that no longer mattered to the insane Elite, for as he realized, the Covenant could not be stopped in their search for "The Great Journey", a utopia which Tura now knew to be fictional.
He pressed a cloth against his now-missing left arm, chopped off by that bastard, Field Master Rudamee. Quagomee hoped that they would meet again. Only next time, he would be much stronger.
***
The Elite at the Phantom's controls was impatient, hoping to leave soon, as any threat in the area was currently eliminated. When the commanding Elite and his squad arrived, the pilot had expected to be ordered to leave as soon as possible, but surprisingly, he was annoyingly told to wait. Apparently they had seen a small band of Covenant troops fighting in one of the streets, but other engagements had not allowed them to enter combat.
Several units passed before the troops inside the Phantom saw a pair of Hunters emerge from one of the side streets. A quick glance confirmed that they were a part of the Covenant. The Hunters jogged casually over to the Phantom, as if they had plenty of time to spare, closing the distance quickly nonetheless.
When they finally reached the Phantom's belly, the pilot activated the gravity lift and waited for them to step inside its beam. The lift was then deactivated in the same unit that they hit the dropship's deck. The commanding Elite took a step forward, but quickly took it back as the first Hunter began to rise, towering above him. Ugadi Ruso Kartu stood to his full height, black armor glowing softly in the purple light, stretching his neck before returning to the typical Hunter slouch.
The Elite's awe died quickly, and he stepped forward again, asking a quick question, but instead of answering quickly, Kartu first turned to his bond brother Ogidu Ruso Fizu. Their eyes met, a sense of acknowledgement registering. Kartu turned back to the Elite and shook his massive head. "There were no others." He said. "We leave now." Then he turned to stand in the back of the Phantom with his bond brother.
***
Fleet Master Huta Fummamee watched a light monitor with thoughtful eyes. His gaze penetrated the image, producing possible threats and ambushes, getting the big picture, something he needed to do in order to be a Fleet Master. But this was a sort of practice for him. There was no threat here, nearly all hostiles had been eliminated, save two large battle groups which had split to opposite sides of the rebel city, fighting bravely against the Covenant. Bravely, but not wisely. Thought Fummamee. So far the rebel tactics had not entirely disappointed him, but they were entirely composed of brave charges and heroic attempts to do enough damage to the Covenant to make them withdraw.
Now, with the order to all Covenant troops to return to the fleet in space, the rebels actually thought they were winning. Ha! Huta couldn't help thinking as their slaughter grew closer. What fools. What pitiful fools. On the monitor, the last of the dropships were being escorted back into space by a flight of Banshees. Another showed the last of the Serephs remaining on the planet as well, firing a few more cannon blasts at the cities last forces before turning to leave.
Minutes passed, but the Fleet Master's posture did not change. "Excellency!" a nearby Elite barked rather timidly. The Fleet Master turned to face him. "All dropships and Banshees are on board, Excellency. There is one flight of Serephs making a final recon run before returning. They will be back onboard in seven units."
"No need for the recon, have them return now."
There was a moment before the tech answered. "Very good Excellency. Fighters will be onboard in half a unit."
Fummamee waited for the Seraph's to complete their landing in the docking bay before turning to face the entire bridge crew. "Open the command channel."
"Yes Excellency."
A light monitor opened, and quickly, one by one, twenty-five different boxes opened, each one holding the face and shoulders of a Ship Master. The Fleet Master spoke. "All ships, power down all weapons but your plasma torpedoes and move into a criss-cross formation above the planet. The exact formation is now being transmitted to your ships. Prepare to glass the planet." A few grins were visible before his orders were acknowledged, and the ships began to move. The formation was perfect within three units, and with Fummamee's mark, a hundred giant blue sun-like teardrops descended on the rebel city. "Fire at will." The Fleet Master ordered, just before switching off the command channel to his Fleet.
On the view screen, buildings crumpled, fell, turned to dust, and vaporized. Water sources converted to steam. Black craters appeared where streets and plants had been before. As targets of opportunity lessened, the fleet, staying in perfect circular formation, began to turn by radians, covering the entire city beneath them in flame.
Minutes passed as the fleet relentlessly unleashed furies of flame upon the planet, extending beyond the city for hundreds of kilometers, the dust being so thick that it clouded even powerful visual cameras from space. Then, finally, with a single word spoken from the Fleet Master's four jaws, the barrage stopped. Like water from a tap, the last great blast hit the planet and faded, leaving a sudden peace across the planet's charred surface. Units continued to tick off as the global dust began to slowly clear. Each cruiser stayed in its spot, in perfect formation, awaiting orders and watching the dust settle, revealing the blackened earth beneath it. Where the city had been twenty units before, only a black series of craters remained.
The Fleet Master spoke again. "Ship Master."
"Yes, Excellency." Yuthru Rummamee answered, facing his superior.
"Enter our new coordinates into the command channel and feed them to the fleet. We are going to our next step to finding Halo."
"Very good Excellency." As the Ship Master's claws danced lightly, a silence set over the bridge. There was no task, nothing to do, and only the Ship Master himself was concentrated. Within half a unit, twenty-five acknowledgements came from the combined cruisers, destroyers, and frigates. As the whale-shaped ships glided away from the planet surface, Fummamee took pride in the fact that no-one questioned why they did not stay to glass the entire planet, why they left early, the job not even half-done. Better than his last crew.
"Leaping into Slipspace in one quarter unit, Excellancy." Rummamee replied. The Fleet Master mentally acknowledged the information, but did not respond, his reptilian eyes probing the monitor. There was a shudder, leaving the bridge dark as the twenty-five Covenant ships jumped, leaving behind the wretched system, populated no more.
***
"Scanning. All Covenant ships have entered Slipspace Commander. The transmission we intercepted on their command channel before has been interpreted and confirmed. They're headed towards Damascus III Sir." The voice that spoke came from the lips of a beautiful but harsh Lieutenant, seated at the station for scanners.
"Shit." Came from a man standing directly to her left. Commander Roy Kigar, a rather young, red-haired, brilliant stealth tactician, better at hiding than at fighting. Not really what counted, which is why he had spent the majority of his military career so far as an ONI spook, until it bored him to death, his sense of duty propelling him to request work closer to danger and closer to actually saving lives. But he had been stationed aboard one more damned stealth ship, this one a frigate.
The frigate he now commanded was called the Silent Eye, and true to its name, it had the best stealth cloaking and observation equipment the UNSC had to offer. The downside was, it was almost useless in a fight. It had no MAC, minimal Archer missile pods, and only two HAVOC nukes. It did have a single SHIVA nuke aboard as well, but its real purpose was not for use against Covenant cruisers, but for the Covenant city which had just been obliterated.
Ironically, the fact that the city had been full of rebels had been something which the crew of the Silent Eye had been oblivious to until an hour before it was invaded, when plans to a possible assassination attempt was insecurely transmitted from the planet surface to a small ship in space. Now they would never find out what the whole deal was with that enormous city.
But they had bigger problems than that. Damascus III was surly about to be invaded. Set just behind two of the outermost Human colonies left, the Covenant would surly find the other two worlds, and more lives would be destroyed. They had to do something. But FLEETCOM was out of range, and their puny, practically weaponless ship couldn't help any. Having retrieved what they wanted, possibly the planet coordinates, the Covenant fleet had glassed the city and jump out of system, headed directly for Damascus.
"Orders Sir?" asked the navigations officer, Lieutenant Kay.
Commander Kigar responded slowly, leaning towards a monitor. "Follow them. Bring reactors to eighty percent. Move out from the planet's shadow and position ourselves for a jump to Damascus III. And figure out if there's any way that we can contact FLEETCOM, too. We'll need help. Lots of help." Minutes ticked away as his crew worked to bring his orders to reality. Sluggishly, the frigate chugged out of the shadow of the planet, the bright light from the system's sun panning slowly across the frigate's bow.
A sudden thought hit Commander Kigar's mind. "Too slow lieutenant, bring reactors to 110 percent." The Covenant ships were fast. The clock was already ticking, had been ticking, and they would need every second if anyone on Damascus III was going to live.
"Affirmative Commander. Running reactors at 110 percent, maximum power. Velocity increasing. Reaching jump point in four minutes, thirteen seconds."
"Thank you lieutenant." The Commander acknowledged. He then directed his attention to a hologram projector next to him. "Reaper." He said. A purple-blue haze appeared above the projector for a moment, then stabilized into the image of a sly-looking fox, data scrolling across its body.
The ship's AI, "Reaper", was four years old and had seen plenty of action from the sidelines. Starting as a useful ONI artificial intelligence, he had been switched to combat programming because of the lack of space combat AIs. His memory had been nearly entirely erased for ONI safety. Reaper had known a lot that the ONI didn't want out, to the Covenant or the Humans.
The AI had a weird sense to him. He had a personality, and for an AI, quite an ego. His confidence in his calculations and tactics was not usually annoying, but always consistent and sometimes even comforting when in tight situations. He changed his appearance regularly, but most of the time he chose the image of a sleek and beautiful-looking fox, the image which he chose now.
The data on the fox's body switched directions, and the AI's color turned a dark orange. "Yes Commander?" The fox said. Despite the grim situation, Kigar gave a brief smile. He would never get used to seeing the animal talk.
"We're going to Damascus. Make jump calculations and prepare anything we need to in order to make this jump." He checked the countdown ticking on the display on his right. "ETA to jump point is in thr—".
"Three minutes, fourteen seconds." The AI finished. "I can take it from here Commander. Calculating. Reaper out." Three minutes and thirty seconds later, the Silent Eye jumped after the Covenant fleet toward the planet Damascus III, God have mercy on their souls.
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