halo.bungie.org

They're Random, Baby!

Fan Fiction


Legacy Part One
Posted By: Havok<snayperskaya@hotmail.com>
Date: 13 April 2003, 9:08 PM


Read/Post Comments

      It has been six months since I last saw the men in my platoon. I can only surmise that the whole division has pulled out and left HALO installation 006. I believe that I am the only human on this installation, and from all of my reconnoitering, the Covenant have left as well. I am stranded here alone on this desolate ring world, exerting all my energy on prying into its secrets.
The day is hot and dry, without any sign of rain. The last water hole I passed was almost two days ago. I can only guess as to where I am, but it seems as if I have almost reached the edge of this desert. In the distance, I can make out the ruins of an abandoned Human stronghold. I double my pace, and make it to the ruins in an hour. I stagger past the outer defenses of 50 mm chaingun and 5 inch turret emplacements. I reach the medical facility and collapse in a heap on a cot stained by blood spilled over half a year ago.
      I wake from a sound sleep, feeling somewhat refreshed, footsore, and hungry. I amble on down to the cafeteria. In some cabinets I find field rations packaged to keep for decades. I sit down to a meal of granola bars, flash frozen turkey, dehydrated peas, and canned soup. After eating my fill, I wander around camp and gather supplies. In the maintenance garage I find an abandoned Warthog, up on blocks and in need of a replacement tire. I find the necessary tools and a spare tire and fix it up. I get six jerry cans of gasoline and set them in the back. From the medical building I find plenty of bandages, biofoam, morphine, and antibiotics. In the supply dump I get enough food to last me months, as well as some AP and shredder ammo for my MA5B, a dozen extra clips for my M6D, and a few blocks of C-12 and detonators. From the command tent I get several maps and binoculars.
      As I turn to leave the command tent, a piece of paper on the ground catches my eye:


United Nations Space Command Emergency Priority Order 095567A-1
Encryption Code: Red
From: UNSC/CENTCOM
To: 6th Battlegroup/179th Armored Division
Subject: General Retreat Order 0988671A-5
Classification: Classified (BGX Directive)

General Retreat
Following the defeat at Sigmus Prime and the loss of the Draconis Shipyards, all HALO investigative deployments are suspended until further notice. All forces are ordered to make best speed to Epsilon Pegasi.

/end file/




      I could see that all was definitely not well with the Covenant war. This order was issued more than six months ago. I could not even fathom what was happening in the war this moment. Maybe there is no more war. Maybe I am the sole surviving human.

      I departed the base around noon, or whatever time HALO was on. The sun was in the middle of the sky, but then everything was different on HALO. I drove spinward and eventually came to the end of the desert. The landscape abruptly turned into a dense and humid jungle. I found a navigable path through the entanglement of vines and foliage. I set up camp next to a gigantic tree that looked remarkably like an oak tree native to earth. I ate a cold dinner of ham and crackers and fell into a fitful sleep next to the "old faithful" chaingun.

      The next morning I got up and drove about an hour up a winding path that cut into the side of a very tall mountain. The road was very narrow and the going was slow. Presently I began to make out hints of Forerunner technology; the path seemed immaculately clean, and there was a soft blue glow of undeterminable origin lighting the path. I wound my way up the mountain for another hour or so and made a startling discovery. The dirt path abruptly ended. What lay beyond was an elevated pathway of light. I eased onto the light, which strangely held the warthog above the ground. I continued on at a cautious pace.
The light road continued on for another mile, where it ended at the mouth of an enormous archway. Beyond the archway there was an entrance built into the mountain. I drove up to the entrance and stepped from the Warthog. I got a strange feeling in the pit of my stomach as I looked at the entrance. There was a great blast door sealing the entrance. I doubted the C-12 I had brought along could make even a dent in it. I spotted a footpath softly glowing leading off a ways to the side of the entrance. I checked my pistol and cautiously made my way along the path.
The path led a small ways to a clearing in the trees. In the middle of the clearing there was a ring of tall columns with inscriptions that looked strikingly Aztec in origin. Inside the ring of columns there was a pedestal. As I approached, the columns started to glow in a soft blue pulse.
I stopped, uncertain if I should go further. But the columns seemed to beckon to me. I made my way forward and stepped into the circle of columns and to the pedestal. With each step I took, the columns pulsed faster. I saw that on the pedestal, there was a monitor that glowed red. In the center of the monitor was a handprint. A human handprint. I raised my left hand and slowly pressed it to the monitor. The columns now glowed a constant brilliant blue, and the monitor grew warm under my palm. The monitor pulsed three times and then darkened. As I watched, something began to appear on the monitor:

HANDPRINT IDENTIFICATION
CONFIRMED.
DEFENSE SYSTEMS DEACTIVATED.

      My hands fell to my sides and my jaw dropped, seemingly no longer under my control. This was the confirmation that many had sought. It was widely believed that the Forerunner could possibly be of Terran origin, but we had almost completely no evidence to the contrary. That my handprint had opened up this mountain facility was stunning.
An opening appeared at the bottom of the monitor and a ring slid forth. A video appeared on the monitor, instructing how to wear the ring to deactivate defenses anywhere in the facility. I slid the ring onto my middle finger and slowly shuffled back to the main entryway. My mind was still recovering from five minutes ago.
As I neared the entrance, the ring on my hand glowed and the blast door silently spiraled open. I got in the warthog and drove slowly into the tunnel. The ring glowed again and recessed light crystals warmed and lit the pathway with a soft light.
The tunnel opened up into a cavernous room that apparently had once been a parking area. The room was empty, but there were berths where the Forerunner had once parked their vehicles. I pulled into a slot and turned off the engine. I hopped out and headed for the door at the end of the room. The door hissed and slid open, revealing an elevator. I stepped onto it and took a moment to look over the holographic pad. I reached out and pressed the middle button.
      The elevator whirred and started its descent. I watched the walls slide past and wondered what I would find at the other end of this elevator ride. The elevator slowed to a halt and the door hissed open. I found myself in a hallway. I walked down the hall and entered the first door I came upon. I peered inside and the lights came on. It looked to be some sort of conference room, though I really had no idea. An oblong table sat in the center of the room, with six plush chairs situated around it. I approached the table and the nearest chair glided over to my side. I looked at it and after some hesitation took a seat.
The chair guided me back to the table, where a holographic image shimmered into existence in front of me. On the holograph, there were six icons, each with some lettering next to it. At first glance, they looked to all be the alien runic script I had seen countless times before. Upon closer inspection, however, I noticed that there were variations in the lettering from one icon to the next. The icon in the upper right hand side of the screen looked familiar to me. I leaned closer, and the icon glowed and a voice said: "English."
      I sat back for a moment, startled and trying to gather my wits. I reached out and pressed on the icon.
The holograph blurred and a dozen new icons dotted the air. The lettering looked somewhat like English writing, but I couldn't read it with any accuracy, so I scanned the icons and leaned toward the one that looked like the word "research." The image glowed and the voice said, "Research." The holograph blurred again and when it came back into focus, there were pictures of research and development, pages of notes, reports, and evaluations. I saw the real purpose of HALO. The blood drained from my face, and I slumped back into the chair, finally understanding.





bungie.org