HALO - Begging After Knowledge

by CaptChris42

PREAMBLE This is my take on the backstory to the games, incorporating several scenes I've long wanted to see depicted. The idea germinated after reading Greg Bear's trilogy of novels, and work began in October after reading Hunters in the Dark. People who have read both will hopefully get a lot more out of this, but I've tried to summarise effectively.

PREAMBLE

This is my take on the backstory to the games, incorporating several scenes I've long wanted to see depicted. The idea germinated after reading Greg Bear's trilogy of novels, and work began in October after reading Peter David's Hunters in the Dark. People who have read both will hopefully get a lot more out of this, but I've tried to summarise and streamline effectively. I may edit this into a more convenient format shortly.

HALO

BEGGING AFTER KNOWLEDGE

(By Chris Pearson)

FROM: CODENAME SURGEON
TO: CODENAME COALMINER

CLASSIFICATION: Survey results of Ark – correlation with ONIRF Trevelyan.

1-21-2557

Pursuant to your previous inquiry, I report the latest updates on our research efforts on-site. Although the initial data contains little new information, I am embedding connectivity between likely areas of tactical significance.

To begin…

Installation Overview:

Diameter: 127,530 kilometres.

Construction Date: 98,000 BCE approximate.

Condition: Largely intact. Repairs have slowed since the incident with the Monitor, but appear to be periodically continuing. The climate areas on the surface have faired much less well than the superstructure.

Constituent Parts: Installation 00 consists of a curved, micro Alderson-type disc with eight radial arms, four large, four small. The centre is hollowed out to provide space for a raw materials harvesting area encompassing a small planet – as well as a construction site for 'Halo' type installations.

Habitats on the surface are divided into forty-four so-called 'refugia' with environments varying from arctic to desert to tropical. There are also multiple wide-spread oceans. Immense walled regions with metallic terraces divide each refugia from each other. The large structures seen within these regions appear to serve a habitation or control facility role. Various habitats are still showing signs of damage and inclement weather in the four years plus since the explosion above site. Some creatures roam widely, and a few seem to have spread outside their initial refugia. Two of the refugia show signs of significant flooding, and one is still trapped in a sandstorm cycle.

Structures: The following list gives updates on major surface features.

Control Citadel: Secured and showing some signs of operation. Light-bridge reactivated; some melting of surrounding ice.

Foundry Control: Some areas remain sealed; minimal control over portal operations; damage to data-storage.

Cartographer: Signs of burning and partial evaporation of water sources nearby. Otherwise functional, but access limited without a Monitor on hand.

Towers: Found at the boundaries of some Refugias, and exceeding a hundred kilometers in height, these are believed to have been the central habitation centers for Forerunner refugees summoned on site. It is conjectured from earlier files that many did reach these before the Array activation event, but likely only a fraction of those intended to be housed there. No sign of habitation remains in the two towers access has been gained to. Best analysis is that they all moved on long ago – the question remains: where?

Codename – 'Lost City': a large structure, though shorter than the towers, this bears some resemblance to the Cartographer, only longer. Surrounding hectares of land are significantly flooded; access to interior planned, pending new Huragok procedures; may be an administrative centre.

Codename – 'Narrows': a dual-level cantilever bridge spanning an icy gorge, this connects two cooling systems, with a conduit on the lower span channeling energy. No obvious sign of surface access.

Codename – 'Valhalla': this comprises two beam projector towers that transfer power to the portal aperture when dormant and idling, and are located within a valley below a glacier.

Codename – 'Guardian': A small outpost positioned on several immense trees within a forested refugia – is now theorized to be a habitat monitoring station. Access provided by teleport.

Codname – 'Sandtrap': Was the site of a Jiralhanae excavation during the original Ark Campaign. Consists of stone ruins surrounded by six large metal towers forming a perimeter; ruins bear resemblance to Delta Halo structures already listed on file, and may have been similarly deposited. Combat engineers report surrounding minefield mostly disabled as of present date.

Codename – 'Epitaph': a large tower over a mile in height, this is located within the large desert refugia, and is connected to seven branching, partially submerged tunnels. The interior remains accessible, and seems ceremonial in design, suggesting a function as a war memorial or similar. The large hologram within has been reactivated and is conjectured to depict a monitor or an aerial vehicle, with four radial arms and a rectangular main body. Anomalous signals have been detected in surrounding area, but triangulation has so far proved unfruitful. Submit these may be data ghosts from damaged subroutines of Monitor 000.

Our research here has proved useful in combining knowledge with the teams within Trevelyan, particular for gaining access to major structures. Huragok/'Engineers' remain the critical tool in this process.

FROM: CODENAME COALMINER
TO: CODENAME SURGEON

CLASSIFICATION: Significant accounts unearthed.

3-2-2557

The boys on Trevelyan have struck gold again, and uncovered a terminal within a habitation centre that appeared to be heavily secured, and meant for official usage by Forerunner Builder caste. Many files appear to have been entered by the Master Builder himself (see Bornstellar Relation file) and detail further accounts of his counter-Flood strategy, and the building of the Halo weapons.

More is now evident about Onyx and related Shield World construction and deployment, along with accounts of inter-caste political maneuvering during the construction period. There are also accounts filed by the aforementioned artificial intelligence of whom we have spoken, which have helped to reconcile a number of discrepancies with prior terminal data.

Together with the anomalous files you reported on the Ark, we may be able to piece together the reprobate's back-story a little more clearly. Goes to motive once again – and repercussions of reactivation: so we'll need to compile a comprehensive report before we get any go-ahead for that eventuality.

Finally, there is some interesting early analysis of the Flood organism and proposed countermoves tested during that era, and the eventual strategic missteps in the war. We hope to glean even more data once this is all cleaned up and presented in a proper manner. Some parts are still corrupted for now though. Perhaps later we can read the whole thing out over coffee sometime?

I'll be sending the first files over to you by secure line at the nearest convenience, complete with notes, and you can give me feedback. I think you will find it most illuminating…

COALMINER signing off – give your team my congratulations.

STRING 1

Estimated date, Earth calendar – 106,448 BCE:

The young Builder adjunct turned to greet the approach of his superior, trying to maintain decorum in the face of his unpleasant discoveries.

The towering girth of Faber-of-Will-and-Might, one of the most powerful members of the Forerunner Builder's Rate, loomed into view, shading his subordinate and the floating display plane that held his attention. Bulky but majestic in his neatly-carved armour, limned with electric-blue lights, Faber already held a reputation for his growing influence over Forerunner politics. Ever since the species had gained a galactic presence, the Builders had risen to the forefront – as it were – of the power structure, supposedly exemplifying the image of the Mantle that guided all Forerunner philosophy and their interaction with the galaxy.

Faber was already over four and a half thousand years of age – periodic biological mutations and armour-bio support allowed frequent rejuvenation of Forerunner bodies – he was also said to have multiple wives, a not uncommon feat for his caste.

All this was on the adjunct's mind as he turned to meet him.

"Sir – I have the finalised studies of the parasitic organism encountered in the human colonies. The rate of infection and spread is… severe. As is the adaptation process."

"That is rather unfortunate – I hope you have more positive information to accompany that," Faber's baritone voice rumbled.

"The organism is built around an elaborate and adaptive cell capable of reshaping itself using unusually complex ganglions and microtubules into multiple different configurations. It can effectively bond with and replace whole organs in seconds via horizontal gene transfer, feeding on calcium stores to convert cells and replicate itself. Then it begins modifying the diseased body into a new form, equally quickly."

"It can be destroyed though, via conventional weapons, yes?" Faber inquired, a little impatiently.

"Yes, it can, but the rate of reproduction and spread is acute. We believe there are additional unseen variations that produce ambulatory spore for rapid replication. Barring an aerial, or even orbital bombardment, it is uncertain how effectively a hive can be cleared before spreading uncontrollably."

"And that is what the humans were working to prevent, I suppose," Faber said thoughtfully. "What about its behaviour?"

"Besides rapid adaptability and spread, affected victims also seem capable of counterattacking and utilising equipment like small-arms quite readily. We hypothesize that the subject's brain matter is kept largely intact and co-opted for its intelligence and skills. Whether this is for any higher purpose than increasing survival chances and spread is at present unclear…"

"Is it possible this organism was artificially created, perhaps as a human weapon they planned to use against us, but lost control of?"

"It is possible – but the sophistication and cooperation of all the biological elements involved seems beyond their ken from what we know of them. They have been spacefaring for such a short time…"

"…But already, they have proven to be a thorn in our sides deeper than we had cause to expect. Greetings, Faber," a sonorous and deep voice issued from behind them.

Faber turned – mostly – unsurprised at the hulking figure stood behind them, similar in mass and adornment to himself, but with the more blunt and simply rounded combat armour of one of the Warrior-Servant rate.

"Didact – the hero of this undertaking – I find your presence most unexpected. None of my security escorts alerted me as to your so sudden arrival."

"Some of them were former comrades of mine – and I am still held in much respect by those, for now," the soldier – the Didact – replied, almost daringly. Clearly he was marking out territory, like some primitive beast their ancestors had once hunted.

"Of course, of course – loyalty, respect, the old warrior way: I have no wish to erode such customs," so quickly, Faber carefully did not add. "Also, my condolences on your recent bereavements: it is a sad victory that should cost among one's descendants so dearly."

The Didact's helmet popped ajar into two segments, joined by fading webs of hard-light energy and suspension fields. Revealed within was the warrior's large grey, almost – simian, Faber believed was the word – head, bulging here and there around the cranium, occasionally flecked with patches of fur. Hard grey eyes glowered out, anger carefully masking withheld pain.

Shadow-of-Sundered-Star was currently the most preeminent of the storied Promethean class of warriors – the latest and most deadly iteration of the Forerunner warrior caste. And already increasingly outcompeted, Faber wryly reflected. It will soon be galling for him to know how my own forces will be receiving the future favour of the council. The old warrior had gained his title in reference to his exacting teaching style at the Promethean academy.

"They died honourably and well, distinguished to the last against a worthy foe," the brooding warrior responded tensely. "My wife and I will mourn their loss, but, we know the sacrifices the defence of the Mantle entails. Now these upstart marauders will no longer prey upon nearby systems with the impunity they once enjoyed."

"Tell me, Didact, are you not now curious about the disease they belatedly informed us about, as they neared defeat in your worthy siege?"

"Several of my subordinates conjectured it was a desperate ploy to mitigate their punishment at our hands. Despite this, I did receive some reports that gave their plea a gilding of truth."

"My people here have been studying samples recently obtained, and feel the warnings we were given were not totally unjustified. There are indications of parasitic, complex life capable of self-defence…"

"We are aware – in part – of what you speak. Our own research facilities are… older and less well-funded, you could say, but still capable of compiling what data they observe."

"In that case, would you say that this organism is a human-creation – a new terror weapon?"

"No – I currently do not believe so," the Didact said, looking pensive and uncertain. "From what we can perceive, it is unlike any entity we have so far encountered, although not totally alien in structure. I would hesitate to describe it as extragalactic in origin, but the proposal has been put to me."

"That is a decidedly radical conclusion to make, most would affirm. We have received no clear indications of trans-galactic travel in millennia – certainly not since the recorded probes to the satellite dwarfs orbiting our home galaxy."

"It remains a plausible surmise, to my mind. However…"

"You have, perhaps, another conjecture?"

"You are familiar with the artifacts we encountered in their fortress system at Charum Hakkor?"

"The orbital filaments? The vast constructs – yes, decidedly: impossible for a Builder of such stature and knowledge as myself not to take acute interest in them. I hold little doubt they are genuine Precursor constructs."

"It does seem unlikely the humans could have replicated such uncanny marvels," the Didact agreed readily.

Precursors, Faber marveled, moved to momentary silence. The ancestral, original species – seeders of life, the inspiration for so much of our learning: leaving more heirlooms to be found. "But why should the ancient ones have left such achievements here, within reach of these vicious near-simians?"

"Presumably the humans happened to evolve in the general region, perhaps with tolerant permission, or maybe just overlooked. I would not expect the Precursor scientists to have ignored their genetics or their potential entirely though. The question though, is how did they so quickly gleam the knowledge to progress into space, let alone to encounter the treasures they stumbled onto? Charum Hakkor is the richest repository to be found in half a million years."
"Their neighbours, the San'Shyuum, were able to develop vessels and even fleets of their own, within only a slightly longer time-span. They have also been sharing knowledge and commodities. Perhaps the San'Shyuum contacted them before?"

"And boosted their advancement? A generous gift from such an introverted and retiring people…"

"Who also ended up in conflict with us: perhaps your keen evaluation of their aims is not as complete as you believe."

The Didact snorted at the blunt shot across his bow – a most unrefined trait, even for a Promethean. Perhaps his encounters with humans caused something to rub-off onto him? Faber mused. "They already seemed threatened by the human expansion sprouting a millennium ago. Presumably their leaders could see the value in forging a strong, early partnership. Their acquiescence to invasion and planetary cleansing has equally incriminated them though – particularly when our own worlds became targets!" he ended moodily. "Anyway, to return to my original conjecture – it is possible that the humans were able to unlock particular Precursor repositories. Perhaps they preserved particular rare life-forms from their time, or even experiments – although this seems like a pretty warped one, inconsistent with the Mantle they obviously espoused."

Obviously, Faber mused, nearly shaking his head. It was what most Forerunners deeply believed, but in truth most of the information learned about the Mantle seemed far more vague and abstract to him than most espoused it to be. Perhaps I do not perceive it in the 'proper' way, he reluctantly conceded. My youngest wife would say that I lack the poetry for true appreciation and perception. "Of course, the old ones were very different from us, in a strange and more ancient galaxy than the one we know now – more chaotic in fact. Who knows their thoughts on such matters; we already know much to suspect they were never mammalian or like many other evolving tool-users we've categorised."

"Eventually, it all comes down to tools for you, does it not," the Didact sighed knowingly.

"Tools reveal life's interaction with the cosmos – a sentiment your wife and other Lifeworkers would easily appreciate. They also drive the development and shaping of minds in reaction to adversity."

"With their command of neural physics, they may have transcended even those conventions you hold so dear. Consider those vast strands, shaped out of the raw firmament of space's own fabric. Teased out, perhaps, not merely forged."

"I have not seen you wax so philosophically before," Faber conceded. Probably his wife's influence, Faber decided. The Librarian thought deeply about the social and – his lips twisted a little in minor grimace – whimsical ties between forms of life.

"You have not seen me in my downtime, reading. I have given much thought of my own to the nature of the Mantle and what responsibilities to it we were entrusted with. My wife believes we have become inflexible in our actions towards other species. The humans' barbarities still shocked her though."

"So would they have released this horror upon us?"

"I do not know. If they were bold and desperate, maybe: but how would they expect to control it? There are things we do not understand here."

"Should we encounter more of them, would you be willing to share any research gained, in hopes of finding an optimal solution?" Faber said leadingly. For all his politicking, he retained some measure of respect for the archaic soldier – certainly enough to value his input for now.

The Didact frowned, looking momentarily perturbed. As their political rivalry had grown, he had obviously become reticent about sharing any potential advantage. He was doubtlessly calculating what he might lose in such an arrangement – and what had prompted Faber to suggest it. "It is true we may be facing a severe threat here."

"My adjunct?" Faber announced, startling the junior Builder researcher who had stepped to the side of the room whilst their conversation had unfolded.

"Yes, esteemed one?"

"Please tell us what you have on the propagation factor. How quickly does this lifeform spread to occupy a single average planetary biome with minimal technology?"

The adjunct looked harried, uncertain. He checked the holographic display, and cycled through data results rapidly.

"According to best estimates, it looks like – depending on the type of seas present – five or six orbital rotations!"

Both senior Forerunners recoiled in some alarm – not very severely, but far enough to indicate atypical surprise.

"In that case – I think it is very appropriate to share our data without delay," the Didact said forebodingly. "Does this thing have a mind?"

"What doesn't, according to our lessons on the Mantle," Faber announced anxiously.

"It remains to be seen whether it thinks like us," Didact said cautiously. "I will summon my warriors, and have them keep watch. Already, many of them survey and pacify the outlying human outposts on the borders of their space, that we had cause to bypass. We will learn more soon…"

STRING 2

Earth calendar – estimated 106,446 BCE

The patrol had commenced surveying another planet on the fringes of former human space – this one of thin atmosphere but enough for lichen and grasses. Partial terraforming had enabled an agricultural colony to gain purchase, at least.

At some remove from the Forerunner's home star cluster (Compiler's note: Orion nebular region) the once primitive people of Erde-Tyrene, as they commonly referred to it, had exploded out into surrounding systems with surprising haste, searching for new homes and resources – guided by strange knowledge, some claimed. At first, all had been peaceful, with towns, and then cities being erected on certain lush worlds unpopulated by other sentient beings. (Compiler's note: compare placement of Heian with estimated area of settlement)

But after a few centuries or so, there was a sudden recoil – a retreat, however brief. Then the settlers had begun moving in another direction, apparently unpredictably. Surprisingly advanced human warships bristling with devastating particle weapons came into conflict with nearby species, soon displacing them and gaining footholds on their homeworlds. When they encountered the San'Shyuum – a brown, long-necked, sybaritic and withdrawn people – their technological rate gave humans pause. A few negotiations later, and then their new neighbours had arranged a mutual treaty.

Then, shockingly, came reports of worlds bombarded to congealed silicate crystal and slag, scoured of life. Eventually, even some Forerunner worlds met the same fate, and, about a thousand years ago, the armed forces of their Ecumene council mobilized for war.

Leading the charge were the elite Promethean warrior corps, with their sculptured Class-9 combat-skins and wide-flanged helmets encompassing wildly complex sensor and communications equipment, allowing easy tracking of large battlefield situations unfolding. Terrible, vaguely animalistic flying craft known as war sphinxes unleashed vast swathes of destruction counter-indicative to their small size (Compiler's note: 20 metres commonly estimated).

Coming behind them, in increasingly large deployments, were the forces now termed as Builder Security, who had gained permission to arm themselves in prior debates. Assisted by flying automatons known as Sentinels and Enforcers, they plummeted into the fray on worlds providing human supplies, advanced shielding absorbing enemy fire. New firearms tore into the opposing human soldiers, bypassing their own impressive defences.

Cutting it off from fleet support, the blue and green world of Erde-Tyrene fell early on to combined Forerunner forces, and administrative and research teams had assumed control. The human fleets regrouped to guard other worlds, being forced back to the ones that were home to Precursor relics. At Charum Hakkor, the final fifty-three year siege had commenced, broken by a drip-feed of reinforcements.

Now, all that had remained for outriding Promethean patrols had been to search other worlds for holdout human forces to pacify – maybe even to capture, although there had been few opportunities for this. Most fought back hard.

But lately had arisen certain instructions, not always clearly stated. Warnings of infestation, contamination – but also of combat threat assessments: something else was thought to be lurking on these worlds.

All of which was a major source of foreboding for the team commander.

Investigation of the first farm colony had turned up nothing untoward. They were now proceeding towards the next one, gliding over the land in a small collection of War Sphinxes, optimised for lifeform detection.

A flash of data transfer and an accompanying message diverted the commander's attention – indicating unidentified life somewhere below. Records had not listed the planet to have large mammalian or insectoid life, although a cursory scan had turned up anomalous – some would say shifting – biomass readings, perhaps below ground?

It definitely merited a closer look, so the main detachment stooped down and landed gently. Tails with thrust-assemblies extended to counterbalance the Sphinxes forward legs, attached by hard-light planes to the main body.

Hard-light was a long-used Builder construction, a shaping of photons into new configurations, paired with condensed fields of quantum effects. Large impenetrable barriers, thin decorative bridges or even accelerated projectiles could all be shaped out of the meta-material.

The debarking soldiers carried firearms equipped with just such projectiles. The Z-250 lightrifle was a dependable stalwart of Promethean brigades stretching back millennia. An angular barrel was connected to the main section by force-fields, with a small scope similarly suspended above the body. Shaped and confined light served as rapid-fire ammunition for situations where lasers and other beam weapons were too inflexible. The second group on the ground toted Z-130 suppressors, a shorter-range but more rapid-fire support weapon – broad of barrel and large in trigger-guard.

Flowing armour and built-in shielding systems completed the military ensemble. The commander drew upon a final device – the so-called Promethean vision – to scan for heat and movement sources among the mechanized harvesting equipment and sunken habitation areas.

A bluish field spread across the homestead within the Promethean's visor, highlighting heats sources faintly in orange… and there, somewhere below, were clusters of moving orange forms, belowground.

A pit is over here – an excavation of some sort a subordinate hailed him, using the eerie mental channels Forerunners had gained access to via the… (Note: deleted for brevity, more later) The Commander fell in behind his fellow soldier, leading them around to the far side of a storage centre. There, an odd shaft cut into the ground. Something about the walls was strange – not slimy, as such, but at least congealed.

They dropped down, relying on Promethean vision rather than helmet lights. Hopefully, this would give them a few seconds advantage – depending on what was down there.

The team leader swept his vision across the darkened tunnels, seeing the walls lit by muted oranges and blues projected onto his eyepieces. A rough tunnel stretched away ahead of them as he heard his subordinates dropping in behind, their suit-hugging shields spattering momentarily with impact.

"Proceed with caution. Advance in wedge formation and allow clearance to fall back in the event of enemy contact…"

His soldiers – five of them female, the rest male – spread out and began their traverse of the tunnel.

"Definitely something moving beyond these walls – hard to identify details or characteristics…" his prime adjunct announced.

"Any of them close to us yet?"

"Not so far…"

"Maintain communications silence from here on…"

The patrol moved deeper, finding more and more signs of decay on the walls – first eaten away surfaces, and then a mucus coat.

"I have movement!" a section leader said shrilly, her voice etched with tension.

"How many?"

"Hard to say – the readings are confused, shifting – overlapping?"

"Assume defensive formation…"

Abruptly, the ceiling gave way ahead of them, and a swarm of small creatures began to pour into the passageway.

They had many thin limbs descending from a strange, fluted, whelk-like body, only smoother – and softer, as one soldier experienced to her discomfort. Purple fronds projected from the upper body, waving exploratory across what they contacted physically.

"Shields to full – suppression fire!" the commander exclaimed, as they fought to maintain formation as fire-teams.

Suppressor fire raked through the creatures, mulching many massively. Still more began to pour in, and others from up out of a hole further along the passage.

"Use grenades selectively…"

Faceted munitions were hurled and rolled into the scrum, releasing clouds of antimatter and disrupting energy, which soon shrank to a point. A major hole opened amidst the copious horde.

"How many are there you think?" a female uhlan interjected.

"Given the density in this tunnel – possibly thousands…" the prime adjunct decided, switching his Promethean visor to search modes.

"We have to break out of here. Call in the air support…"

There was a scream behind – the female section leader from earlier, the commander noted ruefully. A cloud of the small creatures had stacked around her, leaping onto armour.

Tentacles suddenly swelled and forced themselves between the floating plates, holding them apart to prevent them closing tight. The the inner layer began to – dissolve?

A grenade landed into the hideous colony, detonating…

Around half an hour later, a significantly depleted military force lifted off from the surface of the stricken farming community.

Minutes after that, missiles blasted open the ceilings of the below-ground vaults, leaving space for flaming particle beams to do their fiery work. Molten rivulets trickled from the scene, fading into the night soil.

STRING 3

Earth calendar – estimated 106,445 BCE:

As reports came back from the frontier, the study and interrogation of the humans was accelerated.

Whilst many still held them accountable for their crimes, for others, the resentments began to ease a little. The Librarian and her team of Lifeworker caste members in particular began to urge leniency. The rest of the Ecumene council though, was keen to ensure no further threat would arise.

As keepers of the Mantle they felt to have been inherited from the vanished Precursors, the Forerunners saw themselves as shepherding the other races of the galaxy, guiding their evolution and protecting certain species from over-predation – keeping the peace, essentially. Over time though, the degree of intercession deemed appropriate had grown and grown, leading to what some would argue was suppression of certain cultures. Although protocol discouraged eradication, there were other ways to retard a species' progress.

Lifeworkers and the old Theoretical rate had gained much knowledge of biology's interaction with its biosphere, climate and even on interplanetary scales. The differences in gravitation throughout an orbital cycle could mount up over time into physiological changes – the development of muscles, density, even upright posture. Competition and selection meanwhile favoured cranial development for brains with larger processing power, and more abstraction of thought. Gaining this knowledge had allowed the Forerunners, once bound to their old home on Ghibalb, to greatly influence and direct their evolutionary patterns. Gene therapy and extrapolations of their different exploratory influence on life had led to the poetic expression of 'genepath' – and the ability to mimic and replace certain strands.

All this gave Forerunners the power to actively affect not only their own evolution, but that of other species: enormous power – some said a rather corrupting one.

In cases where species were spreading to threaten their neighbours, it was sometimes deemed proper to prune back their strength – reduce them technologically and astronomically. But more extreme methods had later come to the fore.

Faber observed the procedures on certain of the humans, being medically 'processed'. Neural pathways had been unwound, competitiveness and expansionary urges modified. Eventually, even reductions being made to brain size; once highly developed tool-user physiology reverted to hunter-gatherer conditions. To many, it would seem horrific if witnessed all at once. As a Builder, Faber generally preferred to maintain a more… clinical air. Forerunner scientists knew how brutal and destructive nature's competitive offspring could turn out to be. What do the Lifeworkers say: 'life is deadly to all of its parts?'

Besides these reversions, Faber was also here to conduct a more personal examination. He entered a highly secured laboratory, guarded by Sentinels and forcefields, with a retracting bridge.

Inside the sealed chamber, a single female human lay secured to a surgical bed. With pale brownish skin and short dark hair, she was short and stocky. One would not easily have surmised her to have such power among her species as she had recently held.

"Yprin Yprikushma – former morale and political leader of the human war machine," Faber intoned deeply, aiming to remind her of her subordinate and perilous position. "I am pleased to meet you. I have several questions for you."

The human struggled to assemble spittle in her mouth and hock it towards him. The volley fell short by several footlengths, and Faber reacted not at all.

"Defiance is all very well in a leader, when it still has a constructive purpose – but we are far past that. Your empire is defeated and lies in ruins – victim of your own hubris."

"You… know nothing of our empire! Of – my – people," Yprin spoke dryly and falteringly, obviously the worse for wear. "Nor do you know of the good we have done for you, though you do not appreciate it…"

"In fact, my dear Yprin, it is that very matter I intend to consult with you upon. We have encountered the organism that your soldiers tried contacting us about. What did they call it… the 'shaping-sickness'? We are eager to know of your own dealings."

"My… knowledge will avail you little, pompous Builder," Yprin replied, moistening her mouth. "But we have fought this thing – purged it from our colonies and cleansed surrounding space to be rid of it. It began as nothing more than spores, infesting mere pets – Pheru, we called them. Small mammals on Faun Hakkor, docile, retiring: they did not remain so."

"And now you are caught like them," Faber replied momentarily, hiding his intrigue to maintain dominance. "Held in a trap, ready for study: so tell me, what was your response?"

"Why do I owe you any answers, Builder? You, whose warrior cronies lay low my civilisation…"

"But you want to tell me," Faber said, signaling to a control room window above with a hand gesture. "Then you will be at peace – and can gloat over our own impending peril."

"I… yes… but," a moment of struggling subsided as Yprin's face softened. Dermal and electrical stimulus combined with chemical injections to smooth away resistance from the old politician. "The… the Pheru changed, mutated, spreading wildly and passing on new forms of contagion. Our own colonists carried them further, and then they began to alter as well. Faun Hakkor was quarantined, but by then it was too late. The thing was loose, spreading from world to world. We blockaded the inner worlds, and began to spread out, looking for new resources. But it followed, driving us farther and farther outward." Yprin's speech had become more and more hurried and fevered, and she paused for breath and calm.

"We sought answers, sent in our fleets and armies. But it kept coming, bursting through like some rising tide… some, some howling flood. Flood, yes… some of us called it that. Like the melting ice on Erde, sweeping all before it. And then we encountered you: you so-called custodians, you Forerunners… why do you term yourselves so?"

"It is a reminder of our inherited role, and our trusted duty to someday pass down to a worthy inheritor…"

"If the thing returns, there may be no inheritors! We found the flood-thing spreading outside our region, contaminating even your own outer worlds. And we burned them – cleansed them of life, and then took them as bases to repel the monster. But you responded before we had fully contained and eradicated the contagion. Our scientists sought other answers, and we…" she paused again. "I do not choose to tell you this, Forerunner! You have not earned the answer, no, you have not the stomach! But you will someday beg for the answers we possessed!"

Faber leaned over her, demandingly, hungrily. "Tell me! You want to…"

This time, the spittle landed clean on his left eye-piece, obscuring his view.

Try as he might, no more was forthcoming from her, and eventually, Faber left her to stew.

Weeks passed, soon months, and bit by bit the next parts of the story were unveiled.

Human scientists had searched for those resistant to the so-called 'flood', and applied genetic patches. It barely slowed the tide. Later still, drastic plans for a prion-based virus to implant in endangered populations had been devised. To infect the infection itself, burn up its hosts too fast for it to replicate; after this, the disease had faltered, perhaps even – retreated – was the apt word.

But Faber sensed there was more left untold here. His inquiries had revealed that the Didact had similarly interrogated Forthencho, the self-styled Lord of Admirals of the human military. He had corroborated most parts of Yprin's account, but certain details differed, and hinted at unspoken secrets – particularly surrounding the humans' purported 'cure'.

And there was something more, something they had uncovered close to home – apparently at Charum Hakkor itself. Yprin kept hinting at this, sometimes of a tomb, or a chamber… once of a cage. She continually cut herself off before she could say more though, and bio-readings suggested great fear and aversion – not all of it related to betraying states secrets.

Eventually, Faber thought he was making major progress in this area.

"Be calm, Yprin – nothing can hurt you here. Tell me of the cage, Yprin, of the one imprisoned within…"

"Calm – I knew what it was to be so, once – and then I saw it… heard it speak. The tail, that sharp gleaming tail… and the eyes: those unblinking, terrible eyes. Skin like a scorpion – the odour: stop! Stop now! I do not speak of it…"

Eyes? Tail? Scorpion? And it spoke, Faber mused, mind turning over rapidly. A suspicion grew, based in part on his own studies: '…suspect they were never mammalian…' his past words came back to him abruptly.

He had to know more. "What did it say, Yprin?"

Her scream carried across the chamber…

"…Judgement!"

Although he suspected he never got the whole story, Faber in due course consented for Yprin to be… processed.

The device moved into the chamber – a great metal edifice, with a probe protruding from low down. Field guides extended to encompass the prone human.

As the meetings had gone on, Faber had banned more and more bystanders from observing, and had uncovered the woman's dread secret – or at least, what she believed it to be. Whatever the truth, Faber had decided others could not learn of this disclosure, not for some time – if ever. I wonder what the older Builders knew…

The council had decreed they could no longer preserve Yprin as a living prisoner – no longer expend the resources or encourage the prospect of escaped subordinates attempting her rescue. But her knowledge was not to be lost.

Long study of genetics and gene-paths, evolution and mentalities had granted the Forerunners great insights, and had even brought them closer understanding of their forebears. The great constructs at Charum Hakkor had been assembled using certain processes that revealed higher physics – with applications at both the interstellar and intracellular scale.

Whatever the Precursors had been, they had clearly understood much of the nature of minds – how to repurpose them; and how to preserve them.

Tracks of neural pathways were encoded into the great hovering machine – synapses and limbic channels, great folds of stored instinct and memory, found widely throughout the body mass, as it turned out. DNA coding itself was then recorded in digital form.

Working increasingly with complex and powerful machines, Forerunners had devised direct mental-interfaces with them, allowing instantaneous control and reaction. Further applications had easily emerged, allowing improvements to one's own neural structure, and for the replication and preservation of intimate knowledge and experience. Such tools were soon adapted to aid the analysis of other races.

Neurologically, humans shared much in common with Forerunners. Their biology also showed major areas of overlap, but clearly suited to a more arboreal existence than had been thought the case in Forerunner prehistory. Their minds, although apparently capable of less signal-processing and multi-tasking, were similar enough to process for recording – memories and all.

The sequencing and playback of the memories and genes would proceed according to certain patterns and cycles – the original designers of the device had compared them to musical sequences, woven into movements and symphonies. The word 'Composer' had arisen for the machine, and had duly stuck.

A relatively recent outgrowth of the study of neural physics, the Composer had not been intended merely for recording and transferring memories of the frail and dying though. True blueprints of physical form could be extrapolated and replicated. Fragile flesh and bone remade as hard-light and super-conducting electric current, enduring and un-eroding – made immortal. Biological cell-assembly could even craft new bodies.

Such had been the theory, anyway, but upon attempting that step, something had always seemed to sour. Minds degraded, and behaviours dissolved into crude spasms – casting doubt on the feasibility of non-flesh existence as well. Such forms of immortality remained so far beyond the reach of the ambitious Builder teams invested in the project.

Faber had seen great potential in the device though, and resurrected it, finding new applications and justifications to continue development of the technology. An entire trophy world had been repurposed to serve as a laboratory and crafting centre – a forge.

With sufficient persuasion, the council could authorise their deployment to remote worlds like this.

"Do not struggle, Yprin, but merely relax. You are too valuable to us to cast away. Your thoughts, memories, even your personality will be preserved for many years to come – longer than your natural lifespan."

"You would preserve me merely to prolong my torment!" Yprin hissed venomously.

"Our Lifeworkers have found that memory must be anchored to experiences and emotions, for proper preservation and recall. You will sleep for a time, but will serve as custodian over your knowledge when we need to retrieve it. Know that, by doing so, you benefit not only us, but the galaxy and living-time."

"I know of your living-time! I know what it's true worth will be in centuries to come! You think any of my knowledge will avail your people in the face of the parasite? Your time will end!"

"There you are mistaken," Faber said, recoiling. "Process her."

He stepped clear of the table and back to the door as the device lit-up, blue lines of light glowing and channeling power up the angled surface of the metal edifice. Charges built inside the internal resonance chamber, and released through the central aperture and along the field-guides surrounding the human.

Orange glowing particles streamed out and surrounded Yprin, entangling with her molecules on a quantum-level. Slowly, but not without some pain, her molecular structure unraveled and the binding pion energies of her aggregate matter were harvested and safely discharged: neural energy funneled back into the Composer, to be neatly stored in elaborate new matrices.

"My race shall endure, human. Remember, we have not been judged," he said forcefully as he left.

STRING 4

Earth calendar – estimated 106,440 BCE:

Despite Faber's earlier confidence, he could only look back on the last few years with discouragement as the so-called Flood continued to be a formidable threat.

At first, it had seemed as if they were dealing with solely localised outbreaks on a number of former human worlds, but over time new patterns emerged, of rapid growth and displacement. Before long, a Promethean taskforce caught the Flood 'in the act', as it were, when they decanted from Slipspace into a compromised planetary system.

Slipspace comprised the tangled up dimensions subtended from ordinary – bradyonic-type – reality. Here, energies shifted at faster than light velocities across geometry smeared and twisted together into vastly shortened distances. A quantum drive-field allowed vessels to twist portions of their home reality around themselves as they safely transitioned the realm. Theoretically, with Forerunner capacity for carefully editing and reconciling the fabric of space during such jumps, they could reach any trouble spot in easily the time required to resolve conflicts – but things were proving much more difficult than expected.

When the taskforce of fast frigates and Preservation-class escorts emerged into the mere, four-dimensional matrix of typical space-time, they were met by the sight of some twenty civilian transport craft breaking from orbit of the affected world below – labeled CE-328-7 c on their fleet charts.

"What is this – an evacuation? Commence scans…" the appointed commodore ordered.

"Detecting sentient forms – erratic readings: They are already infected!"

"Were they infected after takeoff?" the commodore mused.

"Additional – they are changing approach vector! I believe they are seeking to outdistance us…"

"They control the ships! Unheard of! But they can't hope to outrun us in such vessels…"

The pursuit began in earnest, with the officers around the commodore working to disrupt space-time ahead of the fleet to prevent slipspace jumps out of the system. The fleeing flotilla was making increasing headway in excess of its lead time.

"Something is not right – are those ordinary pleasure and transport craft?"

"Analysing," the Promethean on sensor duty replied. "It appears some basic modifications have been made to re-channel power into engines from support systems – gravity control, lighting, sanitation…"

"Shields?"

"I believe so…"

"They were but thin defense anyway. Charge the particle arrays… discharge on my mark."

A tense fifteen seconds or so elapsed – before the weapon officer nodded.

"Shoot for the power cores – now…"

Electric blue beams carrying pulsations of excited particle clusters lanced out, seeking the rear quarter of a mid-sized liner. The shiny metal faces gave way quickly under the onslaught and caved in. A once sleek oval with broad viewports marking the equator, erupted into a brief vortex of zero-point energy collapsing to ground states.

"And the next two – rapid succession: support ships then clear to fire at will…"

The next two beams shot out. The first hit but less cleanly, smashing the oblate cargo craft it struck in twain, before it fragmented further. The third caused damage to leave a private transport adrift and deflected from the pack. The other ships though were starting to assume a new formation – slower, bulkier craft moving out and falling back to provide an umbra behind the others: a protective shield.

"The damn things are strategising! Offering us soft targets – increase to flank speed!"

The strategy, however belatedly employed, proved pretty effective. More energy beams and ion pulsations lashed out at the fleeing Flood vessels – but only another seven fell prey to the Forerunner weapons systems.

The rest gained enough lead – and obstruction by debris – to evade drive-suppression fields and dive into short-lived slipspace portals, swirling electric blue for a mere second, and vanishing.

"Chaos take them!" barked the commodore heatedly. "Prepare for pursuit!"

"The debris is giving us some interference… we need a minute or two to recalculate," the chief navigator averred.

"Do so, quickly! Soon they will converge on another world – and the cycle will repeat…"

The assessment proved sadly accurate. Other taskforces reported similar incidents – some even encountered vessels coming about to ram them and ease the escape of others.

The best assessment of researchers was that the Flood must have some means of sharing the information they had plumbed from the minds of their victims, and of cooperating for long enough to apply technical knowledge to sophisticated tasks. Theoretically, the Flood 'super cells' could adapt to create new forms suited to such delicate work, or mutate existing ones.

Regardless of their methods, the parasite was spreading even faster than before, causing first the Promethean, and then Builder taskforces to spread themselves ever thinner, deciding whether to retain ships in blockade formation to catch late escapees, or all hightail in pursuit of prey. And then they had to decide what to do with affected worlds left behind.

Large animal lifeforms were increasingly colonised and reworked into fearsome defensive forces, and great spore-mountains grew like immense and grotesque fungi across small continents, ready to unleash new rapacious feeders. Assets of the strategic Emergency Circumstance fleet were redeployed, quietly, to assist the effort.

So far, Faber reflected, the crisis was being contained to a local region of a few dozen cubic light years, but as the Flood expanded in a spiral-like growth pattern, the odds of catastrophic outbreak increased.

Despite this, lessons were learned, and procedures adopted, to keep things in check for a considerable time.

After almost a century of interdiction, it was hoped that they might be finally through the worst of it.

And then the enemy, unlikely as it seemed, began innovating once more…

Earth calendar – estimated 106,350 BCE:

The commodore had grown weary of his deployment, far from friends and kin. Although folded into larger fleet operations, and given a second taskforce to aid pincer manoeuvres, the tension between periods of stressful engagement and longeurs of monotonous guarding had started to tell.

The latest world to be scouted was listed as CE-305-8 b on Forerunner tactical charts. As was suggested by its burnt and semi-molten appearance, it had already been subject to a military excision to purge resident Flood. Apparently, though, the entity had returned.

A handful of hardier than usual transport craft maintained orbit around the world as the taskforce jumped in. Their second force was on a pursuit course of a likely enemy flotilla, and was deemed unnecessary for this incursion.

"Ready missiles in addition to beam systems: we may need to rapidly target craft on diverging vectors," the commodore informed his command crew, who seemed restless.

"This may seem routine by now, my brethren, but the Mantle calls upon us to give our best nonetheless. This scourge disrupts and perverts the balance of life, allowing no co-existence. Be unstinting in your duty."

"Aya…" the crew replied in age old assent.

The small fleet moved in, lancing into the lead ship with a precise long-range attack, and then attempting to box-in the others with missiles mounting zero-point energy disrupter warheads.

The outer ships bore the brunt of the fusillade, whilst the rest turtle-shelled within.

"These vessels are shielding – apparently they seem prepared to sit and take what we can give, for now," the tactical chief observed.

"So they aren't running, and they aren't charging yet. Perhaps we've finally outpaced their capacity for response…"

The attack continued for another twelve seconds, with the commodore's forces drawing deeper into the gravity well.

And abruptly, swirls of leaking slipspace energy interacting with normal, expanded dimensions erupted, opening into numerous vortexes that spat out more vessels… considerably more.

"Ambush! Frigates, about face and concentrate fire…"

The fleet broke into two waves folding within each other, most curving back around to meet the new combatants. Elegant, faceted and bladelike warships slid past each other at close range, but with well-timed and precise coordination.

Then erupting vortexes signalled the arrival of still more opponents – and these were right on top of them.

Sturdy freight craft barrelled down on them – some small and with bows crafted into narrow, pinched battering rams. These slipped in beneath the short-range defensive turrets whilst the larger craft absorbed fire. Those ships then expelled clouds of fast moving, expanding debris to confuse and overwhelm shielding. Then the small ram-ships barrelled in, careening hard into the more unprotected sections.

"Frigate Alacrity of Purpose reports hull-breach… now announcing enemy boarding parties!" a female Promethean interjected, twisting within a cerebral communications interface hub.

"Deploy platoons fleet-wide to repel boarders!" the commodore snapped fearfully.

"Working now sir – but we're beginning to experience communication difficulties: debris and shield-flares are spiking the area."

Tense minutes unfolded for those on the bridge. Explosions flashed around them, as shown on the surrounding holographic displays up near the ceiling.

"Alacrity of Purpose is breaking formation…"

"Good – perhaps they can get clear and harry them; or at least retreat and call for help."

But as the display singled out the frigate for focused analysis, the ship seemed to coast a short distance, and then slowly swing about.

"Alacrity is coming to bear – and slowly accelerating: Making for ramming approach!"

"Reverse thrust and ready torsion fields! I don't care who's behind us, but they can clear out of our way!"

The command-ship began its attempt to outpace the Alacrity, casting torsion fields ahead of it to try to snare and impede the rogue frigate's advance.

"Prepare for portside roll and acceleration! We need to…"

The ship rocked with impact from an unexpected angle, shaking the whole crew. The communications officer spun out of her interface, clutching at her head and reaching for the conduit to reduce the spasmodic feedback affecting her neural net.

"We just took an escort ship into our thrusters! Drifting into a pinwheel…"

Mute with horror, they could only watch as the battle unfolded from a growing distance. Other frigates soon began imitating Alacrity's divergent behaviour, and a small escort came apart from once friendly fire.

Growing realisation of imminent defeat broke upon the commodore with devastating force.

"Have we gotten through to our other task force?"

"I've tried burst broadcasting on multiple channels, but I have no way to know if we've reached them, or when they might arrive," the sensor chief replied, having taking over the comm. interface from its incapacitated occupant.

The commodore set his teeth as several more Flood ships collided with his forces. He hoped that one frigate was going to break through still under-control, but then fire erupted from the stern thrusters, and numerous lights went dark.

Eventually, having crippled or appropriated all their other ships, the swollen Flood armada turned towards their vessel.

"Engines are still out, and auxiliary systems are draining slowly. We have no time for rapid repair: orders, sir?"

The commodore rose from his seat, fighting for balance and inner resolve.

"Release safeties on reactor core control, and wait for some of them to draw within detonation range first," he announced solemnly.

He turned to eye the crew one last time.

"Though we now pass out of Living Time, you may tell your ancestors of our honour and valour." He waited for a nod from the sensor crew chief, and raised his hand.

Momentarily, a violent blast erupted in the void, consuming several nearby vessels, and leaving scattered embers and energy charges to drift on silently, perennially.

STRING 5

Earth calendar – estimated 106,252 BCE:

(Note: Dates become harder to assign during these next few data strings due to a distortion of cross-references with later sequences. This leaves some ambiguities in both sequence and time-span)

After a whole new and brutal campaign had unfolded, featuring disturbing new Flood behaviour, Faber and the Didact decided to pool their knowledge once more – and to approach the Ecumene Council for new support.

Faber rode aboard his current flagship – Solar Lathe – a mighty, well-shielded excavator and assembler, nearly two Builder Units in length (Note: estimated 23.33 kilometres in corroboration with other records) with a scooped out bow housing a massive torsion field manipulator for excavation and construction work. His crew were making good time towards the Forerunner Capital – also known as the Maethrillian, in reference to past mythology. With their destination less than two days away, he descended to one of the large storage holds below to check on his team of researchers.

Faber emerged in a large chamber over a kilometre in length and nearly as tall, bustling with engineers and theoretical scientists, many trained under the techniques of the defunct Theoretical caste. Standing in the midst of the chamber were a variety of hard-light cages, translucent, giving view to the sculptured habitats within – housing various twisted Flood-forms and agglomerations of spores. Radiation emitters suspended above the cages were poised to purge the samples of hazardous life at a moment's notice. Faber also noticed, hanging down from near the centre of the room, a familiar metal monolith, thinning at the bottom and with a distinctive lens.

"How does the work proceed?" He asked a senior researcher. "And what are you doing with that Composer?"

"My liege, we have been analysing the effects of different radiations upon the organism, seeing how long certain of them took to die off or mutate adversely. Some of us suggested employing the Composer, and we got some interesting results."

Faber nodded, eager to be showed. The researcher gathered several colleagues to him and signalled for the Composer to be moved into a suitable position.

"Obviously, by extracting full digital patterns, we have been able to record and simulate various forms of the creature for study and contextual simulation. We should learn a great deal from this alone, although the shared mental network we have come to recognise appears to break down upon sublimation to storage, robbing us of much useful data."

"Regrettable – of course, a biological component was likely crucial for its operation."

"Undoubtedly sir – but the actual sublimation process itself caused interesting changes in Flood behaviour at the point of deconstruction."

He nodded, and the large overhead machine sprang to life, glowing along its inset lines and discharging from its lower emitter. Orange energy streamed down into one of the cages, its upper surface suddenly made permeable. Two more streams of particles zapped out towards two smaller cages.

Inside, numerous many-legged creatures with strange frond-like growths tottered – these days referred to as 'infection forms'. Earlier, these entities had been hurling themselves against the barriers repeatedly for a time, before abruptly stopping and clustering together, unmoving. Earlier reports had theorised they were conserving strength, and perhaps transferring energy.

Now, as the beams began to impact each small habitat – lined with congealed, fungus-like growths and spouting thin gases – the creatures began thrashing again: at first they seemed coordinated, piling up against the hard-light wall. Within a second or so though, they began convulsing, and then turning in circles, before lying down and quivering.

"Maintain at current level," the researcher signalled. "As you can see, at this level communication and awareness has already degraded, leaving mostly instinctual or even chemically-induced reactions, like that between fungal hyphae strands. It seems however little intelligence each infection form has individually, collectively they can coordinate on many distinct tasks. As they lose biomass and neural growth though…" he signalled the other staff again.

The beam, which had faded somewhat, now intensified again, and increased the tempo of its throbbing. Slime ran from the small infection forms, and then thinned to powder. In another second, only small piles of ashen particulate remained, as small tendrils of energy threaded back up the beams.

"Observe the strange patterns and convergences of the neural webs: somehow interwoven. And there is more…"

"Still, a very effective countermeasure…"

"Probably so, but slow and power intensive: our current Composer models perform best at short-range against such a small target. However, the stranger part is the accompanying waveforms carried among the neuronal webs."

The researcher conjured up a floating holographic display out of his armour, suspended above his head. He activated his foot-level armour systems to extend anti-gravity suspenders so as to rise for a closer look.

Faber eyed the display as a distinctive wave-pattern shunted between the specimens, and saw it broaden as the image zoomed out.

"This is not mere chemical exchanges so as to moderate group behaviour: we are witnessing an overlapping of consciousness here – transfer of thoughts and ideas. We also believe this to be happening among those subsumed to the parasites' directives. Information is flowing into the network from new sources – and some of it we cannot locate afterward."

"As if it had vanished, you mean? So… degraded?"

"We do not believe so. Perhaps there is an accompanying energy field – an entanglement of some kind. Perhaps, a storage-buffer…"

Faber snorted reflexively, but was intrigued despite himself. "Continue analysis. I will also want details of the beam's effects. Hmm…" he trailed off, drifting into deeper thought.

Despite the researcher's criticisms, the Composer effect did seem to provide one of the most thorough countermeasures so far – at least potentially. It is an effective if brute-force use of neural transfer physics. Perhaps a new application is possible…

"Store all of your data carefully, and have it ready for presentation. I need to bring the crucial parts before the council. Carry on…"

Within the following two days, Solar Lathe emerged from slipspace a half-million kilometres from the Capital itself – which was faintly visible on screens, as a glimmering ellipsoid turning on its long axis, details still obscure.

"My liege, we are detecting a very large slipspace portal forming at four thousand kilometres to our starboard flank!"

Faber turned to the officer questioningly. "Display…"

A rapid-forming three-dimensional display overhead revealed a blue rent forming in space, huge and ovoid. From within it, a vast metal bulk emerged.

Faber quickly recognised the menacing, inelegant shape: "The Mantle's Approach!"

A vast metal construct the size of small moon, the vessel loomed quickly as it rapidly closed on their position. The flagship of the Didact, Mantle's Approach had been designed by the Builders according to Promethean guidelines, and Faber could clearly see the Didact had made changes of his own. At first a little over three-hundred kilometres in height and over a hundred long and wide, extensions and new armoured flanges had been mounted on. (Compiler note: upon its destruction in Earth orbit on 25-7-2557, Mantle's Approach measured 371.4 km by 142.7 by 138.6 – the largest purpose-built warship recorded visually or in data)

Continually upgraded prior to the Didact's blitzkrieg against the human leadership, Mantle's Approach had become arguably the fastest and most-well armed vessel in Forerunner space – and by extension, the galaxy. It dwarfed most other strategic craft in the process, including the long, spinning-top like Fortress-class warships used for prolonged siege duty.

"The Didact brings his fullest military might with him to impress upon our leaders – no doubt he comes with strategies and requests for resources. But we come with valuable contributions of our own."

The bulk of the officers on the capacious command deck turned to meet Faber, offering affirmative gestures and salutes.

"I also now take time to note the name of his august battlewagon – the Mantle's Approach… such a passive, neutral word. Reproach, for instance, surely communicates his aims more concretely…"

This time, a few subordinates responded with subtle jeers. Suitably rewarded as these followers have been, they now clearly perceive the power that flows to me…

"Extend my respectful greetings to the Didact in a formal diplomatic burst: then summon my close retinue, and prepare the research data. I must attend to business…" he continued. Let that stand as a snub to the old warrior. He shall not see me awed or cowed in any way today…

The Capital quickly loomed before them, a vast artificial world like no other known in modern times.

Consisting of huge sculpted metal plates terraced in landscapes and shielded cities, each plate was threaded through on one side by a huge column or pole. The middle and widest disc stretched 100,000 kilometres in diameter, and housed the central government complex and council debating arena, which was to be their destination. Constructed some twenty thousand years ago, the Capital had replaced Ghibalb as the nexus of Forerunner culture – and was well defended, enabling it to seal up into an armoured globe in duress.

Having passed within the vast defensive cordon of fleet patrols and weapon arcs, the Solar Lathe came to rest a mere two thousand kilometres away, close enough for safe translocation. Utilising advanced distortion control of slipspace, a tiny, short-lived tunnel funnelled the molecules of Faber and his retinue through two portals to emerge within the central annexe of the protected government zone – to be safely reassembled in their prior state.

Elaborately armoured Council security with helmets sculptured into subtle bird-head stylings turned to meet them, and stood aside after a brief security beam scan, their hard-light staves snapping to their hips in deference.

Admitted into the main arena, Faber basked in the gloomily lit, tiered surroundings filled with seated councillors from hundreds of worlds. Here was where the great movements of power unfolded across the Ecumene – nay, the galaxy. Here, the upholding of the Mantle was decided. Here too, he planned to be increasingly present. Here I have worked – have earned – to take a place.

Admitted from another gate simultaneously was Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, his growing rival, the Didact. Promethean soldiers flanked him, unarmed, but no less intimidating. Their twin-winged helms extending each side had parted to unveil determined faces.

"Faber-of-Will-and-Might, Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, welcome: please come to the central podium and speak among us of what you have learned," boomed a voice, amplified across the large chamber. It was the council Speaker, calling the session to order.

Both parties took their place on the floating podium suspended in the central pit of the arena. Each was separated from the other by a broad holographic display.

"Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, also known as Didact – we are informed you have information for us on the parasitic infestation currently blighting our worlds near the old human empire…"

"That is correct, Speaker: an infestation that grows vaster and more dangerous by the month. Also one of alarming intelligence and of subtle strategy…"

"Your last report indicated the loss of warships to this threat."

"That is regrettably so," the Didact said gravely, letting his grimace carry to all the receiving sensors of the seated councillors. "The parasite, what some are calling 'the Flood', is acquiring starships, and pooling collective stolen knowledge into enhancing them. It is laying traps and constructing a fleet with which to restrain our efforts to quickly purge their hives. What is more, my analysts have detected signs of coordination between systems, and perhaps, a central intelligence."

Faint murmurs drifted across the hall. "We presume this is offered in exigency of the many set-backs your campaigns have faced thus far," the Speaker said from his isolated box.

Faber smiled, subtly – Forerunners were not big on obvious emotional tells, particularly senior Builders. It seemed many here were already ill-disposed towards the Didact, whose warriors were seen as too powerful and archaic a group within the changing political scene. Much of that had been Faber's own influence.

"This I do concede," the Didact rumbled. "But lately we have begun to gain our enemy's measure. I must continue to advise major evacuation of threatened worlds, and further fortification of the key travel routes in the regions nearby."

"Do you speak of Jat-Krula fortifications?" a councillor intoned.

"Jat-Krula may not have the reach and coverage we require," the Didact replied dourly.

A tried-and-trusted fortification system, Jat-Krula involved the building of a defensive Line or englobement around a contested area, originating out of system blockades and barricades. Much of it centred around powerful artillery firing destructive pulses – carried via neutrino waves into and out of slipspace.

"Then you propose further Shield Worlds?" the councillor inquired.

"That is so…"

The councillor tutted; Predictable, thought Faber. The proposal was a recurrent one in the Didact's strategies. Inspired by the Capital and other smaller constructs, shield worlds were armoured globes of varying sizes, serving as protected bases close to or beyond enemy lines, which could house probing fleets and armies to wear down an opponent's defences. The Didact had waged much of the war against the humans from his personal fortress, Requiem, and a few dozen others.

Although effective components of strategy, in the long-term they were major investments in resources and personnel, and major losses of such if overcome.

"I know I have encountered scepticism in this regard beforehand, but I maintain that this proposal best covers our tactical shortcomings, and allows us to field heavy firepower with the optimal rapidity and flexibility. In a few decades, I could drive the Flood into cordoned salients and close the doors behind them, wearing them down – starving them into submission…"

"We understand the thrust of your argument Didact, but before we commit to such a prodigious investment, we are required to consider all of our available options – and to apply them as best considered. Lifeshaper…" the Speaker trailed off, and a spotlight fell upon a slender Lifeworker female as she floated into the centre of the amphitheatre upon a repulsor-footplate.

The Librarian! Promoted, it would seem, Faber mused. Born with the name First-Light-Weaves-Living-Song, the woman later titled Librarian was short by many Forerunner standards, with delicate features to match. Whatever fuzzy growth adorned her head was hidden under a headdress that resembled two buns weaved from flow-metal.

"Our research into the parasite has come to support the Didact's supposition about a shared intelligence and direction. We may, in time, come to localise this flow of intelligence to some central agency," she paused, and gave her husband a supporting look. "We are also investigating species for strains of resistance, including samples of the humans…"

"Yes – the humans, who first unleashed this menace upon our borders," Faber said abruptly, determined to seize back the initiative. "My subordinates have conducted their own extensive research in this regard, Librarian. We have discovered that the humans on Faun Hakkor first unleashed the earliest mutation forms of the parasite through experimentation with an unknown powdered substance, perhaps failing to observe adequate precautions. We also have intelligence of a possible cure they eventually enacted…"

"You confided in me some of this intelligence before," the Didact said, irritably. "I did investigations of my own, with the humans' military commanders. What they revealed cast doubt on some of your conclusions…"

"And yet the Flood retreated, in time, did it not…"

"Order! I call this chamber to order!" the Speaker interrupted, his speech suitably magnified. "Madame Lifeshaper, do you have more to add?"

"Not at this time," the Librarian replied ruefully, geared for another long contention between the two males. "We have also investigated accounts of a cure, including rumours of modified genes programmed for necrosis and sabotage of the mutation process, but have found few to none empirical evidence. Such a solution would also appear to have been very costly in lives."

"Then we must pursue more militant tactics. Faber – do you have suitable proposals to make at this juncture?"

Faber gladly accepted his cue – a favour tossed by a man he'd already been soliciting support from. "Speaker, I do indeed. My studies have confirmed a supporting intelligence – or at very least, a collective network thereof. This is primarily supported – grounded, I believe is the best term – by the organic components of the Flood. Disrupting this network at the local node level should slow the parasite enough to make pruning its hives tenable. I have data to show the effective impact of Composer technology upon the Flood's biological and neurological factors, with great potential for disrupting planetwide consciousness among them."

"The Composer?" the Didact snorted. "A crude and slow remedy for such a vast malediction, already spreading so quickly…"

"In truth, Didact, I agree. That is why I am already having new applications of the technology researched and prepared, in anticipation of deploying a much more expansive weapon," Faber responded, quickly leading into his trump card, a bit sooner than he'd initially planned.

"The Composer isolates and detaches mentalities from their neuronal webs, and dismantles flesh simultaneously – using various radiations derived from our age-old grasp of neural physics. With our same understanding of such physics, we may begin to craft a weapon of much vaster impact and application: A true strategic countermeasure to reclaim imperilled space from the parasite."

Several councillors roared support enthusiastically, while others nodded with interest. I have them, Faber mused appreciably. Our analysis data should seal the deal…

"Councillors, please, study the data I have prepared, and tell me of your decision – but remember our escalating peril. Haste becomes more and more our calling here…"

STRING 6

Earth calendar – estimated 106,220 BCE?

Faber leaned back in his floating chair, awaiting his gathered subordinates. He recalled with satisfaction the closing speech of the Speaker after the council's deliberations had drawn to a close.

"Faber-of-Will-and-Might: the council has decided, after due consideration, to pursue your proposal, and award you the resources you have specified in your report. You are hereby charged to assemble a weapon and strategy to deliver victory in accordance with the laws of the Ecumene, and the principles of the Mantle.

"Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, you are authorised to begin construction on several new shield worlds – to act as supporting bases for Faber's project, and to aid him in the projection of his assets."

Faber resisted a chuckle at the image of the fuming Didact, restraining his objections and curtly replying "So acknowledged."

"A pleasure to be working with you," he had said upon their mutual exit, with rather insincere courtesy.

By contrast, the loyal gathering of followers he had summoned should be much more gregarious and supportive company.

Foremost among his deputies was Shaper-of-Ashlar, a Builder nearly as old and prestigious as himself. The old architect considered himself an artist as well as a craftsman, imbuing his creations with a certain style and grace. He had sculpted planets into vast parks and playgrounds for recreation and tranquillity. He also had a certain technical sophistication for new devices and their precision engineering.

Maker-of-Worlds held a similar pedigree, but was concerned more with the technical minutia and bulk-engineering concerns of mega-structures. Both had aided him in his design of the Composer's Forge in past centuries – a storehouse world for technologies.

Finally, Repointer-of-Wythes specialised in additional micro-engineering and circuitries. All were gathered here to contribute ideas for weapons development fit to match the Flood threat.

"Examining the discharge components of our largest Composers, it is clear we need to engineer for a greater scale and range of beam effect," Repointer began briskly. "Without a major redesign, we will not have the reach or effect needed for biosphere purging."

"We already have similar technology to hand for just that thing," Maker interjected. "The artillery arrays in Jat-Krula emplacements can carry particle streams across great distances, and transition into and out of slipspace on neutrino carrier-waves. If we adapt the firing systems to a new weapons platform, and calibrate it for discharge of entanglement fields like in the Composer, we can increase the destructive effect a hundredfold – just for a beginning."

"Remember that it has to be ship-portable," Shaper castigated his colleague mildly. "It is no use building an immense death engine without a means of deploying it."

"It is true that combining multiple discharge arrays for one volley would be very effective. We could appropriate some Fortress-class command vessels…"

"Many of which would be old and incompatible – plus there are not many available nowadays," Faber contributed.

"The Didact and his striplings do get some of the best toys for these things, don't they?" Shaper mused sourly. "He gave each of his children a personalised War Sphinx, you know…"

"And see how well that availed them, in the end…"

"Entertaining though such lines of thought may be, they are not our priority this day," Faber intoned warningly. Focus was needed. "We should be able to get some new vessel designs approved, or modify some dreadnoughts as need be. Let us initially focus on configuring and perfecting the destructive array…"

Months passed by, becoming years: in due course, large new weapons systems deployed to the battlefield. Eying one mounted on a reinforced Builder vessel, Faber felt it compared favourably to siege breakers like the Didact's storied stasis-tension-driver, mounted upon his immense flagship.

As promised, the new weapon drew heavily upon the so-called line-installations that made up the Jat-Krula weapons batteries. Dispensing with the finial beam-focus towers found on those, instead the technology centred within interlinked concentric rings surmounting a recessed discharge chamber.

A secluded test located within a remote system proved promising, although without a suitable biosphere, rather academic. Soon they would have to risk a true deployment against the Flood's forces. It was also hoped that they could find a way to minimise the chance of leaked intelligence on the weapon, delaying the Flood from an inevitable shift in strategy to try to adapt.

Calling upon Promethean assistance, they prepared an operation to seek out and isolate an appropriate system to conduct a test. Warfleets harried the Flood's assets, and scoured several surrounding worlds so as to spread confusion and better cover up another lost world. The spiral deployments of Flood-controlled vessels seemed to slow and contort for light years around.

Finally, their vessel, stewarded by Shaper-of-Ashlar, was ready to deploy.

Descending upon a planet designated CE-398-2 b, the vessel recently named Certain Purification moved rapidly into position, escorted by lumpen frigates and blade-shaped cruisers.

"My liege, we are ready for deployment," Shaper announced over a superluminal secure channel. Descriptions of the attack were being kept vague so as to not draw Flood attention, should it be utilising communications networks locally.

"Very good, my friend – inform me later of your fortune," Faber replied, affecting an unconcerned air.

Minutes passed, before visuals relayed to Faber's displays revealed Purification coasting to a halt, and beginning to build power at its large weapons array forward.

Blue energy coalesced at the guide-rings protruding like an eye from the large vessel. An actinic beam then sprouted forth, driving for the dun-and-tan world below, with blotches of strange growth intermittent.

The beam struck the world and entanglement fields spread and replicated at high speed. Eerie filaments linked strands and knitted together across the visible face of the planet – and, Faber was assured, its farther face as well. A flash lit the dark void.

Seconds later, the searing light subsided, and left behind a world largely the same as before, but with large blackened regions now evident where before were vast growths across continents.

After a sufficient wait, and return of new telemetry, Solar Lathe duly jumped in to join its sister vessel at the test site.

"…Your overall conclusions?" Faber requested brusquely.

"We read total elimination of all biosphere mass greater than insectoid and basic notochord bearing life-forms. Our plasma and EM sensors detect no sign of energy exchange, bio-entanglement or other signals, and our chemical scanners indicate likewise also," Shaper-of-Ashlar reported with satisfaction.

"Then the weapon works!" Faber intoned happily.

"Once we get approval, we can soon deploy more of them!" Maker-of-Worlds chimed in. "I can begin proceedings for that with the council."

"But we still need to figure out our deployment process and strategy, ready to match and restrain the Flood's response," Repointer-of-Wythes added critically.

"Indeed: there, I suppose, we must further involve the Didact."

"Do we fear to allocate him some of the glory?" Shaper asked.

"I think it will matter very little. The Council already knows who has delivered up this strategy…"

"Then we had better perfect it so they know it works," Maker added, slightly irritably. He was a pragmatist who did not like to draw conclusions prematurely.

"A pertinent, and worthy, point my friend…"

"I can see you are already greatly proud of your new creation, Faber," the Didact mused upon their next face to face meeting. "But I am glad that you came to me as soon as you did. My wife and her Lifeworkers have been investigating the Flood themselves – at considerable risk, I might add. They have gathered more data on the organism's communications and network, and have supplied the first details needed for a comprehensive, adaptive strategy. But I am hesitant to jeopardise this so soon…"

"Are the affected worlds evacuated?"

"Several of my shield worlds are full to bursting even now, with more to follow."

"And you have sufficient hulls and manpower?"

"As things so far stand, I believe so…"

"So how many delays must we face?"

"There is much we still need to understand about the parasite, in my opinion. You also need to speed production of your new weapons for rapid deployment. If sufficient portions of the infestation escape, or this possible coordinating intelligence, we will have many unpredictable new factors to deal with."

"Then, I suppose, I will delay for another year or so, whilst we assemble a sufficient fleet, perhaps for a cross-fire pattern. I believe we can easily extend our firing range through slipspace to bombard multiple worlds at a distance, and quickly make follow-up strikes."

"I find that acceptable. But I have ideas of my own. I must know if my wife is correct, and if the Flood does have a central mind. If we could better analyse its collective movements, see if there is an epicentre or protected region…"

"Then I may tear it up by its very roots," Faber said triumphantly.

"My wife has also speculated on if we could communicate with it – learn its intent for gathering so much biomass and knowledge."

"That is already evident – it wants to spread as far as it can, and negate all threats to its perennial reproduction as an apex consumer," Faber said, suddenly hasty. "What more of motive do we need consider than that?"

"I have offered similar observations. Lifeworkers are obligated to consider the uniqueness of lifeforms though, and seek peaceful alternatives. At the same time though, she fears the rapaciousness of the thing, and its enforced uniformity: hordes of corrupted life reshaped into foot-soldiers without will."

"How would you go about finding such a… nexus?" Faber asked leadingly. "You would need to able to rapidly analyse and process vast amounts of data on ship movements and behaviour, indications of tactics and reflexive movements of a gestalt protecting its heart."

"That is so: we would need a dedicated intelligence to accomplish all of that – an advanced ancilla…"

Faber nodded knowingly.

Gaining vast knowledge of neural networks and high technologies, such as interfaces for instantaneous thought-control of machines, Forerunners quickly developed artificial intelligences, stored on crystal hard drives, then in quantum substrates, spintronic particle arrays, and ever more sophisticated and subtle networks. Known as ancillas (Compiler note: likely a Latin transliteration to our records – indicates a servant or slave, feminine) they were now ubiquitous as household servants, government support staff and military aides.

"In short, we need a Metarch, or something like it…"

"Very probably…"
Metarchs were the most sophisticated and powerful of all ancilla, coordinating the whole interstellar infrastructure of Forerunner space and its constituent worlds. Only four were fully deployed in this current era, all specially tasked and supervised.

"I do know some theoreticals and engineers who may be able to assist you with that goal," Faber admitted, deciding the idea had merit. It might also result in further leverage… "I also know some of them have links with the Haruspis staff on Domain study – who could give approval and guidance."

"Good – that will be most helpful. We need to draw up plans and get approval quickly if we are to capitalise on this initiative."

"Of course, the council may still not see the threat potential inherent in the organism. Many outer worlds have been affected, but worlds further in remain unscathed. They may consider this too big an investment."

"Then use what connections you have – and I know well that you have many – to get things started off considerably far. Then obtain permission using what leverage you can muster.

"Leverage… yes," Faber said thoughtfully, hiding any irritation at being lectured by the curmudgeonly old soldier. "Very well – and have your subordinates briefed on the pertinent parts of our strategy: there must be no confusion of purposes here…"

Later, at a dedicated storage archive, Faber put in a request for access to an old resource.

Obtaining the digitalised mental pattern, he analysed the twin streams of entangled data kept suspended in an unbroken loop of stasis. Each stream represented a portion of Yprin Yprikushma's consciousness – one her surface thoughts and memories, the other a deeper well of knowledge and instinct. Some said the second stream of mind went back beyond conception in many species.

Isolating the patterns, he re-sequenced them back into linear flow. A human mind was reassembled from a timeless, diffuse state into working cognition.

"Yprin – we meet again. I have further questions to ask you, and this time you need not fear the terrors arising in your biochemistry. You are safe and serene here."

"I am trapped between life and death here – you mean. My spirit does not hear the chants and guidance of the clans, or the old ones," the old voice sounded through a simple speaker grille.

"Perhaps this will change, at some future date. For now, I respectfully ask if you have any further knowledge of the Flood and your campaign against it."

"Having a bit of trouble, are we? How long has it been – and how much has been lost?" the sullen spirit sneered.

"It has been many years now – decades – lifetimes for many of your people, as they now are. But we are poised to contain the threat, and then end it."

"You say that now. But we enjoyed some early success ourselves – until we learned the thing was playing with us."

"This time we have a more powerful weapon than your forces ever deployed – and we are hunting the core, the mind behind the disease."

"Hah! Then I wish you luck – but if you should come to meet it, you may find it has nasty surprises for you," she said, interested.

"Are you not concerned by your race's judgement, Yprin?"

"Poor Builder – what makes you think we are the only ones on trial here?"

Faber blanched. "We face a trial and a challenge, yes. But I have risen to it! I will return when you are more cooperative."

Quickly, he released the guide-waves, and Yprin returned to her timeless limbo.

"Custodian! There are other humans I must consult with – and other minds to adapt to my aims…"

STRING 7

Earth calendar – estimated 106,100 BCE +/- ?

(Compiler note: The following string is constructed from Promethean records and reports from the Didact himself)

"Report of Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, Promethean forces commander…

"Faber was as good as his word – an increasing rarity. He used his influence to get major council backing, and a sophisticated ancilla crafting centre has been provided. We will still need to consult with the interlocutors of the Domain for full integration, but we are now able to begin.

"Creating a Metarch-class ancilla is difficult work. Not only do they have a very complex, sophisticated neural topology supporting all of their behaviour and knowledge bases, but they must also be constructed as a distributed intelligence. The best way to set this up requires borrowing from organic life itself – reading off of certain neural pathways and their many connections. The aggregate knowledge of many of my warriors struggling against the Flood will constitute a major knowledge base – I have even put something of myself in there.

"Many months of preparation and testing then followed, as our new creation was put through its paces and its processes tested. There are rumours that Faber – now widely entitled the 'master builder', has been bringing human essences from the Composer project into the labs to contribute further knowledge bases. I may have to discuss with him his intentions here, as he seems to be ranging further afield from our remit. Still, they may have pertinent information to aid us. I shall report more in short order…"

"Report number six of Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, on combat metarch project:

"Our work proceeds swiftly, with near completion of the datasets and core experience programming. An interesting selection to be sure…

"So far I foresee no conflicts with primary programming objectives. What we have here is a commander, to some degree a warrior… but also a clinical mind, almost scientific. And inquisitive, to be sure: both I and Faber have put something of ourselves into the construction, and the offshoot should be most intriguing. And, I hope, highly effective."

"Report number nine of Shadow-of-Sundered-Star, on combat metarch project:

"We draw near now to conclusion. The council has given all the necessary resources we need to complete work, particularly after the nasty near breakout of the quarantined region. Disastrous as it was to those infected, it came at an opportune time for us – perhaps too opportune…

"Still, our duty remains clear, if we are to halt this menace and prevent further loss of Forerunner or other life. The Master Builder has hinted his new long-ranged array is approaching mass deployment – another expensive fleet of vessels, I surmise. If I am to deploy the ancilla, it must be soon…"

Finally, the day of the big unveiling arrived. The Didact would be first on the scene to evaluate the results, and Faber would turn up later to inspect their handiwork.

The Didact strode into the inner halls of the workshops, arriving at an area dubbed the 'threshing floor' for carefully crafted assembly of finished products.

After entering the chamber, he glanced at the foreman on site, and awaited his response.

"Honourable Didact, the ancilla is undergoing final system checks, and will be ready momentarily. You may watch the display, if you wish," the foreman offered.

The Didact nodded, and stood back as a holographic display blossomed above, showing the final layering and synchronising of neural networks and data-taps to exterior sources. At the far end of the room, an automated machine complex stood ready to assemble the exterior components – a final, trifling task.

Moments later, the displays flashed to indicate completion, and the machinery whirred to life. Torsion fields scooped up curved metal panelling and held parts together whilst the central AI core was inserted in the heart of the oblate construct forming before them.

Finally, a curved, broad 'face' with three eye lenses was phase-bonded onto the main body – itself a good metre across. A pointed, stubby antenna rose from the completed body like a simple coronet crowning the gleaming metal head.

The assembly frames drifted apart, and a torsion drive thrust the ancilla towards the Didact.

"Leave us – I have instructions to prepare," the Didact spoke.

The foreman left silently, and left the soldier with his prize.

Momentarily, the three circular eyes – two up, one down – flickered into life, lit vivid orange and pupil-less.

"Contender 05-032, state your condition," the Didact asked curtly, impressed by the craftsmanship.

"ALL SYSTEMS ARE OPERATING AT OPTIMAL PARAMETERS, DIDACT…"

The voice was resonant and lacking in much distinguishing features like gender or tonality.

"And your understanding of your design purpose and orders?"
"TO ANALYSE THE ORGANISM KNOWN AS THE FLOOD, ITS CAPABILITIES AND BEHAVIOUR, AND ISOLATE ITS CENTRAL NEXUS…"

"Good, good… can you adjust your vocal circuits please? There is no need to be quite so formal…"

"INTERPOLATING… I concur, Didact. Does this more please you?" The new voice was vaguely male and softer, but still sonorous.

"That will suffice, thank you. You understand you will be assisting both my forces and the Builder security forces of Faber-of-Will-and-Might?"

"The data on this subject is currently quite clear, Didact. I will assist you both and serve the Ecumene to the best of my considerable abilities…"

A little sign of pride there, perhaps, the Didact reflected amusedly.

"You have access to all the processing resources you require, I trust?"

"I do – but I always appreciate further raw data to work with – tell me, Master: when do we begin?" Although difficult to discern, the even-toned voice seemed to rise a little on the last three words.

"As soon as possible, I assure you. You will be delivered to a strategic data centre by tomorrow. I will meet you there to begin your assignment in earnest."

"I look forward to serving with you, Master…"

A chime sounded at the door, and the Didact turned to see the door preparing to admit another. Faber soon strode boldly inside.

"Ah – Didact: I see you have our metarch ready for deployment already. This is most excellent," he said plumily, and then eyed the oblate casing floating in midair. "Metarch, do you recognise me?"

"You are Faber-of-Will-and-Might, architect of the Flood counter-strategy, and my primary construction sponsor. You are designated co-Master over my functions and deployment."

"Excellent – it is quick to recognise my standing, and we can move forward swiftly and efficiently. Does it – he – have a designation?"

"Currently he is Contender ancilla 05-032. I will consider a more descriptive name in short order."

"Then you had best show him to his post – his work must soon begin…"

The following day, 05-032 was stationed in the large tactical chamber assigned to him, multiprocessing as he took in numerous holographic displays and live-stream digital feeds directly into his processing cortex. Come early afternoon, the attached personnel announced the arrival of the Didact within the complex.

"I see you are already working flat out," the warrior announced wryly as he entered the chamber. "Are the resources to your liking?"

"The resources are so far adequate – events may change this as our campaign continues," 05-032 replied solemnly. The first of a new breed, the Didact had dubbed him a Contender-class as an indicator of his marshal function (and as a literal marshal).

"Do you have any preliminary reports to offer me as to the Flood's behaviour?"

The machine paused for a bare second or two before replying. "The organism's behaviour confirms the supposition of spiral growth and propagation, with splinter arms acting to distract and impede our forces. The configuration changes rapidly, and the apparent centre with it, but I am developing algorithms to chart the adaptations, and will evaluate from there."

"So they are not taking the bait, hmm?"

"The… bait, Didact?" the Contender asked quizzically.

"From fishing – the hunting of submerged aquatic prey, like fish or merse: you lure them in with food suspended on a hook – a trap. If they 'take' the bait, you seize them and pull them in."

"I… see: but do they not notice this hook, or trap?"

"Such creatures are not blessed with very acute eyesight – but it was a mere metaphor. My warriors are adept in their own traditions of baiting traps, however…"

"And will you tell me? Now?" the Contender… wheedled, it seemed was the appropriate word.

"Clearly you desire yet more data. Be careful you do not venture too far from your specialist subjects – it could lead to unplanned feedback loops and degradations. We do not want you to succumb to an early cyber-senescence." (Compiler note: read 'rampancy')

"…Senescence? Ah… deterioration of function and awareness, leading to premature obsolescence. Indeed, that sounds a most unwelcome prospect. How is this triggered?"

"It is a software problem we have largely overcome in this era, but early ancilla matrices were prone to making too many cross-connections between their knowledge bases after a century or so, brought on by limitations in file compaction. We were able to eliminate many of these problems by establishing linkups with the Domain, allowing spare knowledge to drain out and be stored externally."

"The Domain, yes… I know of it. Will I be allowed access to the Domain, Didact?"

"In short order, I believe – yes, I will introduce you to the current lead Haruspis and his staff. You will then have a presence within the Domain – a mental environment in which to locate and define yourself."

"I believe I would enjoy that, Master…" 05-032 reflected.

The Domain was one of the oldest treasures of the Forerunners, and, it was widely accepted, was a gift from the Precursors themselves. Apparently a vast energy field spread out in slipspace or some other dimension, vast troves of memory and information were stored there, much of it from living minds. Adherents known individually as Haruspis had worked to unravel the mysteries of the Domain, and many had adopted a more mystical approach to it in the last half a million years. There were plenty of people who now held that the Domain retained the essences of those who had passed from life, still able to cryptically communicate with their descendants.

The limitations of space that led to tangled, overgrown mental connections within early artificial intelligences, and their flailing attempts to sever the decaying links, (with greater and greater error in judgement) were not an issue within the vast tracts of the Domain. Minds interacting with it seemed to carve out a space within, and define a topography and imagery all of their own.

One small concern was that some early AIs had gone knowledge crazy upon being admitted within – attempting to catalog and store the near infinite data and sensations within. Amendments to programming, and instructions on maintaining a reverent and lightly touching relationship with it, had averted further such 'drowning'.

Even some Forerunners had once succumbed, it was rumoured.

"Can you tell me more of the Domain now? Or of the Haruspis? All this knowledge, waiting to be unveiled…"

"And utilised, Contender," the Didact said warningly. "All the knowledge in all the universes is worthless to us if we do not contribute to the flow of Living-Time: if we do not do our part to add to and preserve it."

"Living-Time, yes… but I am a machine, Master. Synthetic."

"You originate from our minds and desires – our hopes. You are our champion in defence of Living-Time, and the Mantle. You will extend our reach, and achieve what we cannot so far accomplish," the Didact said reflectively. "You are, in effect, the realisation of a grand dream, Contender. We believe that all dreams have a place within the Domain."

"A place of dreams… I yearn to learn of them… perhaps to dream for myself."

"You have a strong desire for such things… I see you, begging, like a loyal pet, to be useful – and to know more." He paused a moment, turning over his thoughts.

"I have your new designation, Contender. A name should reflect one's inner nature, their spirit."

"I have a name, of sorts, Didact. A long alphanumeric base-code reflective of my core functions…"

"But you also have a mind reflective of the spark of life, and that deserves something more illustrative. And so I have a new one for you… that of Mendicant Bias…"

The Contender spun away from his broad stretch of tactical displays to eye the Didact – focusing particularly with his upper-left, orange eye. "Mendicant… an itinerant, a vagabond, subsisting upon alms and donations: is this a strange insult?"

"No, not to my mind," the Didact rumbled amusedly. "With the second part of your name, it describes your personality very aptly: you are inclined to beg – to seek out and demand knowledge."

"Mendicant… Mendicant Bias," 05-032 said tentatively, analysing all the facets of his new designation. "I agree – this is an apt description of myself. It is also a fitting personal address. I accept the designation gladly, Didact."

You have a choice in whether to do so? The Didact mused wryly.

"You might say I have been gifted it… as a donation."

The Didact attempted a chuckle, reminiscent of his old foe Admiral Forthencho. "A mere day old stripling – and you are already mastering humour!"

"Humour is often deemed a fitting attitude with which to approach the Domain," Bias said agreeably. "Very well: I am Contender 05-032 Mendicant Bias, and I await permission to begin my work, Master. I must begin my contribution to the Mantle…"

END OF FILE 1…