Different language, either the base words or translation.

' ' and " " are thoughts and speech, respectively.

Deal with the Devil

June 13th, 2531

Doctor Catherine Halsey was a genius. It wasn't arrogance that brought about this statement. No, she was actually a certified genius. She had created next generation AI's, helped advance medicine and computer technology in the UEG by leaps and bounds. She had revived the dying ORION project, creating SPARTAN II super commandos, the next step from the augmented Spec-ops SPARTAN I's from the original ORION project. She had managed politics and logistics, 'acquiring' candidates for her pet project, and even creating the armor that they would use. She raised these soldiers from age six upwards, with military assistance. She dodged press, hid evidence, handled it perfectly.

The United Earth Government was given the countermeasure against the insurrectionists it needed so much; soldiers that were fast enough to avoid any attack, smart enough to solve any problem, quiet enough to penetrate any fortress, tough enough to take nearly any hit, and strong enough to break any foe. Any foe save the Covenant, an alien alliance who's only apparent goal was the extinction of humanity, with the firepower and numbers to do it. Her Spartans helped slow the tide, but they couldn't beat the Covenant back. Couldn't even stem the tide.

So Miss Halsey was here; in the basement of her home, in front of a ritual circle carved into the ground, and filled with her blood. It had taken months to prepare this arrangement, and she was beginning to have second thoughts. However, it was too late for second thoughts, too late to try and fix anything. There were, seemingly, no other choices. Humanity had already lost tens of billions of lives to this unstoppable menace... her children of the ORION program couldn't even stop them, and they were slowly dying off.

So she was here, rubbing a thumb across the seemingly flawless surface of the mask in her hands. The mask was important; a family heirloom, passed down for centuries, possibly millenia, from the eldest child of each generation to the next. The mask wasn't just a trinket or decoration, however... it was special. It was a strange material, unlike any other discovered. At first glance, it was a simple gold mask, probably from some old Earth tribe. However, the mask was so, so much more. It was atomically perfect. Catherine had taken a look; there was no break in the surface. The molecules in it were so tightly bound together in a fashion so unlike gold. The mask was indestructible; generations had tried to destroy it, to no avail. Strange runes were inscribed upon the inside, so small that one would require a microscope on low power to see it.

The mask was actually quite simple; a heavy gold cover, with oval, squinted eyes, with no eye holes. Tusks upon the lower half of the mask, quite heavy. When one put it on, however, they felt empowered. That, and they could see out of the mask, quite perfectly.

It made absolutely no sense. Catherine Halsey hated mysteries; in her line of work, mysteries killed.

So Catherine stood, glaring at the circle she had inscribed into the undeveloped, solid rock floor of her basement, wishing she had never been given this accursed mask, and wishing the Covenant had never come to UEG( Now UNSC) space. Miss Halsey stepped into the circle, chanting in another tongue, one that her ancestors had made a translation and small dictionary to, and inscribed upon another family relic; a stone tablet, a Rosetta stone, of sorts.

Zu'u wah vaaz Ul voth Zii. Het Zu Draal, Catherine Se Halsey fron, wuthfron se Konahrik. Daal, Al se Dov! Alok, nol fin Qethsegol! ( I am to tear Eternity with Spirit. Here I Pray, Catherine of the Halsey kin, oldkin(grandchild, descendant) of Warlord. Return, Destroyer of the Dragon! Arise, from the Bones of the Earth!)

She chanted the words, feeling foolish, but somehow knowing it would work, the words stirring old blood, dead power within her, if only for an instant, before seeping from her and into the symbols surrounding her. Halsey set the mask in the center of the ritual circle, before quickly stepping out and finishing the chant. The circle began glowing, before some sort of... tear, a wound, in existence. Then, just as suddenly as it appeared, the wound closed, revealing a hunched form, covered in a sort of cloth. The form quickly stood to an impressive height, outsizing most of her Spartans.

" So..." Started Catherine, " You're my ancestor?" The figure turned toward her, revealing molten yellow eyes set upon a severe, male face, covered in a pure white beard.

" Sic usus est, tibi qui ratione?" says the man in deep, gravelly voice.

Halsey raises an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised at the recognizable language from the (from his entrance) trans-dimmensional being in front of her. " Etiam eget magna populus meus, quia necesse fuerit, pro salute hominum tempore. An forte nescio, Anglice?"

The man quirks an eyebrow, one side of his mouth rising in amusement at some unknown joke. "Why yes, mortal, I do speak your tongue. One like myself tends to know these things. So, you're my descendant in this realm?" His eyes drift over Catherine's form, eyes analytical, like her own when she views an experiment. She feels small, nervous, a feeling she hasn't felt in years, since her grandmother would look over her report cards after each school's interim.

" Very well, Catherine of the Halsey clan. I am Konahrik of the Whitemane clan, son of Kodlak Whitemane and Samsara Reasa. What is it that you deem so important for your people?" The newly dubbed Konahrik asks, absolutely oozing authority and arrogance. Catherine shivers.

Catherine swallows nervously, knowing that she's making a contract, a barter, for the survival of Humanity. She expected this; after all, Halsey highly doubted powerful beings perform miracles and acts of intervention for free.

She locks eyes with the large man in front of her." I... no... my nation needs an army, powerful enough to, if not push back, at least stall a great enemy we face." She recieves a smile in return.

" Ah, yes... the Covenant, yes? I'm greatly impressed by your work with admittedly primitive technology on your people. These Spartans you've made are quite strong, even if they're mundanes. You wish for an army strong enough to stem the tide of the Covenant, but you are wise enough to know that nothing is free. Do you know, perchance, the currency of the gods, child?" Halsey freezes, thinking quickly, before coming up blank. The diety in front of her notices, and smirks. " Souls, child. For a request such as this, especially. Black souls would be needed. The souls of a sentient mortal being. I can provide the force you so dearly need I'm a god of war, after all, but how many can you give me, in return for this?"

Catherine looks upon the molten gold eyes of the personification of bloody violence in front of her, and decides. " How many souls would a Spartan require? They are... effective, against the Covenant forces. One of our few true countermeasures against them. If you are as powerful as you say you are," Konahrik sneers at this, " Could you possibly create, or at least provide, an army of soldiers at least similar to my Spartans?"

The god of war in front of her suddenly booms with laughter. " HAH! Child, are you ignorant to the scale of Existence? It is larger than anything, even the universe you reside in. There are alternates to everything, even you. Yes, I can provide you an army of beings even better than 'your' Spartans. Yes, I can provide you a breed of soldier BRED for war. They are the second incarnation of an alternate version of your work. You shall see, and so shall your UNSC. I can even provide ships, even. What can you provide? It will be costly. This order will greatly affect the timeline of this realm-"

" Three worlds, still quite heavily populated and not yet hit by the Covenant, in return for the force you promise, and your blessings to the soldiers of the UNSC. I can even provide a star chart to said worlds. Since your realm would be war, I can't offer the souls of the dead on the battlefield, but I can offer you virgin worlds to take. What would happen, once the deal is sealed?" Her eyes are stony, heavy hearted that she has just killed off some 10 billion people in the space of a few seconds.

Konahrik smiles widely at the deal, his eyes dancing in delight. " Well, fate would merely arrange itself so that those fine individuals die a horrible death. It's likely they will suffer a Covenant glassing some time in the future, as you have submitted them to their doom. Very well, you can expect your soldiers and ships soon. They might be... familiar, even to you. It was nice meeting you, descendant of mine. Good day to you."

The large man snatched the mask from the ground in the circle, before another wound opens itself above the circle. Donning the mask, he turns, saying " I must admit, it is refreshing, to see a being that uses my token for the greater good, rather than for personal gain. However, I will impart this small morsel of information to you; Even had you not taken the soldiers, Humanity would have survived. Granted, you would have been reduced to but a handful of worlds, and under 3 billion individuals, but you would have survived. Courtesy of one of your Spartans. Your favorite... Goodbye, Halsey." He leapt into the rend in time and space, the portal closing behind him.

Catherine trembled, before falling to her knees. She knows, she really does; She had just made a deal with the devil, and the price was so very high. She may not have sold her soul, but she had certainly forsaken it.