Fight for the UNSC Horizon

by Ghost G45

The Black Water Operatives join one of the UNSC' oldest capital ships on its last voyages, years before the events that take place in the Halo trilogy. This story does not tie in with the canon of the Halo universe.

Black Water Ops: The Fight for the UNSC Horizon

I.

"I'm so tired... I haven't slept a wink... I'm so tired... My mind is on the brink..." The music listed lazily across the border of consciousness and unconsciousness. The notes lifted and fell as the words continued in that peaceful voice.

"I'm so tired... I don't know what to do... I'm so tired... My mind is set on you..." A face appears among the gray clouds of sleep. A bright smile below a small nose, set between two sparkling brown eyes, piercing the bleak darkness of unconscious thought. The music continued, the face fading in and out of view.

Suddenly, the notes changed, their tone becoming louder and raucous. The dark gray clouds had changed to a light red, as if a light had been turned on somewhere in their depths. The sounds exploded into a climbing climax, an orchestra bursting from some place just beyond the view of sight. The drums set in, creating an incessant noise that grew exponentially as the violins sang their deathly chords, the timpani beating like a throbbing heart. The instruments rose as the unseen conductor commanded them behind the red clouds that seemed to pulse with the beat, and as the orchestra reached its climax, the face changed expression from a smile to a look of terror. But the mouth, beset between two blood red lips, was all that was visible.

The music peaked, the sounds drilling through the ears like nails on a chalkboard. All around the noises exploded, and then suddenly stopped. An eerie silence followed, the clouds of blank thought returning to gray as the last notes slipped into nothingness.

"Good morning, Corporal Butcher," a voice chimed. The gray clouds disappeared, a black void behind two eyelids replacing them. "It is June 12, 2118. The current time is 0430. Conditions are normal. Your cabin is a wonderful 61 degrees Fahrenheit, and outside it is 24 degrees; dress appropriately. Breakfast is scheduled for 0600. Your crew is scheduled to meet in Room 101 at 0700 for briefing and logistics."

As the voice went on, Simon's eyes opened. The glass of the sleeping tube was only a mere two inches from his nose, and he always had a slight fret when he first saw it, fearing that it would smack him in the face. But slowly but surely the glass began to slide open. Corporal Butcher sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked around, some of the music still playing quietly somewhere in the back of his mind.

To his immediate left was the glass door that served as the entrance to his personal bathroom. Small as it was, it was still his. There were still some perks to being a Black Water operative, Simon mused as he threw the blanket off and placed his bare feet on the shiny gray tiles beneath him.

The room that served as his sleeping quarters was cramped, yet quaint. Not many possessions of his own, the room was practically bare. The sleeping tube was attached to the corner opposite the entrance. A workbench cluttered with tools and scraps of metal haphazardly thrown around, evident of someone's trouble with some particular object they had been attempting to fuse, rested in the corner adjacent to the tube. A poster above it was all Simon could rightfully claim as his own.

Upon the poster was a colored battlefield, drawn by some artist, promoting the Black Water Ops. A soldier, covered from head to toe in pure black, stood like a stalwart guardian in the forefront, his assault rifle gripped in his hands tightly, his eyes shielded by a dark purple visor. His gaze seemed to be searching whoever looked upon it, judging their person; determining if they were friend or foe. Behind the soldier, a giant vessel floated above the black horizon of space, stars seemingly twinkling with bright white light in the distance. On the side of the ship, painted in big white lettering, it read "UNSC Horizon." The Horizon was the only surviving warship from the original collection, and was still in commission today as one of the most powerful in the entire fleet, and was a legend in its own right, however real it actually was.

Simon walked to the glass door, slid it aside, and stepped inside. The walls here were the same monotone color of light gray as the room before, but much more confined. The walls seemed to be hugging at Simon's sides, but he had grown used to spaces such as this, though they had once made him nervous.

He tapped a panel that had appeared in the wall with his index finger, and immediately a fine mist of water began to spray from a shower head fixed at the roof of the room, probably a foot or two above Simon's head.

The water streamed down onto his hair and back. A shiver ran down Simon's back as it touched his skin, the water cold. Soon, his body adjusted and he forgot that it was just as cold in the air as it was in the water.

As the water cleansed his body, Simon attempted to cleanse his mind. He thought back to what he could only call a dream. The image of the face was hazy in his mind's eye, but he could still remember that it had been a female's face. Whether or not it was familiar to him, he could not recall.

A ghost from his past, his mind suggested, trying to locate a reason. For all Simon knew, that could be correct. He had forgotten much of the years before the Black Water Operatives, due to minor brain trauma he had experienced on his first mission. His mind began to wander, tracing back to the very moment it could still remember.

Red and yellow lights flashed across his eyes, and his brain retched in agony suddenly. Flashing images of explosions and bright lights faded across Simon's closed eyelids. Blood dripped somewhere, and as it hit the unseen floor it pounded loudly against his ear drums. He felt a ripping sensation in his gut.

Simon heard a scream. He wasn't sure if it was his. He tumbled across the floor of the shower, the water still flowing above him and running down the drain. But to what he could see past the flashes in his skull, he saw only blood. Cold blood against his skin, though he was already detached from his person.

Only the pain remained, as one final image pierced the screaming and terrible pictures in his mind: The dark purple visor of the soldier on the poster, searching Simon's soul. But if the eyes saw him as friend or foe, Simon didn't know. He was already unconscious, the first chords of that ghastly orchestra once again floating into his mind as the gray clouds rolled in...

II.

"Good morning, Sergeant Terryn," the recording rang. "It is June 12, 2118, and -" it began, but was stopped abruptly as Joseph pushed down with his middle finger, a little more roughly than necessary, on a panel to his left as he rose from his open sleeping tube.

Another restless night, he thought, shaking his head. He put a hand to his nose, pressing down to relieve his clogged sinuses. As he stood up, a monitor flicked on above his desk on the opposite wall of the room.

On the telescreen, statistics, directories, and other random data was being scattered across the screen as Joseph scratched his short crop of dark brown.

The monitor flashed a bright whitish blue, and a woman's stern face appeared.

"Good morning, gentlemen. It's time for our routine stretches. Now, everyone in Hawk platoon, commence jumping jacks," the voice instructed. Joseph shook his head, trying still to wake himself up as the woman went on.

Through the thin steel wall he could already hear Sergeant Rianhard, stirring and beginning his daily exercise. The same voice could be heard as well, though it sounded muffled. Rianhard preferred not to be seen in the mornings, and thus had plastered a poster across his monitor. Not exactly standard regulation, but the MPs hadn't gotten onto him about it yet.

Then again, a lot of the things we do aren't what you'd call standard, Joseph thought.

"Comrade Terryn!" the woman shouted. Joseph snapped to attention, realizing that he had remained still through half of the exercise, "You are hardly putting in as much effort as the others. Snap to it! Up, down, up, down."

She doesn't seem exactly peachy this morning, Joseph thought bitterly. Regardless, he began his stretches, much to the discomfort of his joints. He hated how each screen served as a window, allowing commanding officers to practically eavesdrop on each person's conversation and see what they were doing at all hours of the day.

Probably why Cain blocks his telescreen, Joseph thought ruefully as his back cracked under the pressure of the stretch he was performing. It hurt, but at the same time sent a sensation of pleasure down his spinal cord.

"Where is comrade Butcher? Why is he not present?" the woman began to yell angrily as she realized that Corporal Butcher's room was empty. "Corporal Butcher! Corporal Simon Butcher! Respond!"

Joseph had been pulled away from his exercise, now staring intently at the woman's expression on the screen, which had now changed to what appeared to a dark red, seething with fury.

What had Simon does this time, Joseph wondered. He always seems to be getting into some trouble or another.

"Send someone down there, dammit!" the woman shrieked. A minute of silence passed, and then her expression returned to her normal solid face, with her lips pressed together creating a hard line. She retained this look for a few more moments, and then remembered she was being watched by probably six hundred men, all weary of their many weeks of intense training.

"That concludes our stretches for today," she blubbered hurriedly, turning off her connection with the monitor, obviously embarrassed.

Joseph shook his head, trying to clear the headache that the woman's loud screaming had brought on as he sat down at the desk below the screen.

On the desk, papers and trash was scattered about everywhere, and Joseph's garbage can was overflowing with wasted paper and office supplies.

He didn't really care how messy it was, he slid everything with a sweep of his arm off the side and put his hands on his head with his elbows on the desk, rubbing his temples, trying to soothe his mind.

He sat in silence, wondering what had happened to Simon. He probably just wouldn't get up from his sleeping tube, Joseph's mind told him. Another idea protruded his train of thought that disturbed him.

Joseph quickly dismissed the thought, shaking his head.

"No, it can't have happened. Not again," he said quietly to himself as he tried to clear the images that had followed this idea from his mind's eye. He sat in silence, his thoughts running freely, much to his frustration.

Luckily, the voice he had shut off came back on, distracting his mind's focus.

"Your crew's agenda has been changed. Report to the medical bay immediately. You will receive further instruction from there. Have a nice day," the voice rang before cutting out.

Joseph rose to his feet, pulling on the bottom left drawer of his desk to reveal his only pair of clothes as he did so. He stepped into the black jumpsuit, and zipped it up along the center quickly. In the center of his chest the logo of the UNSC stood out in white.

He pushed the drawer closed and stepped out of his cabin and into the long hallway. The corridor was the same bleak gray color as inside his quarters, but it seemed to shine a little more as the bright white beams of light streamed down from the fixtures above.

"Dammit Simon, not again," Joseph muttered as he began walking slowly down the hall.

Joseph passed Sergeant Rianhard's cabin as he trudged down the chrome corridor. Inside, Cain was busy getting dressed as the monitor was passing on the same message that Joseph had received just moments ago.

So much for getting to sleep through breakfast, Cain thought to himself as he zipped up his jumpsuit. As he was dressing, he knocked over a canister of pencils and pens, and they rattled loudly as they scattered across the floor.

"The hell with it," Cain muttered under his breath with an annoyed grunt as he stepped out into the hallway, leaving the mess in the center of his room.

Ahead, he saw Joseph rounding a corridor at the end of the hall. Without a word, Cain heightened his pace, trying to catch up to him.

Moments later, he turned down the hall, and caught a glimpse of Joseph stepping into a room in the side of the corridor. Cain ran to where Joseph had been standing, and looked into the room.

Inside, Joseph was shouting at Private Dominic Samino, whose head was lying on his workbench.

"Rise and shine, beautiful. We've got work to do, sunshine," he grabbed Dominic by the collar and heaved his head off the top of desk. He shook Dominic a little as his eyes opened sheepishly.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm up. Christ," he was saying, rubbing sleep from his eyes with Joseph's huge grip still gripping his collar. He yawned carelessly, standing up as Joseph released his grip.

"Look what you did, Sergeant. You knocked my chair over," Dominic said with mock frustration, bending over to lift up the chair on the floor. He pulled it up and put it back into place, pretending to busy himself with arranging the chair perfectly.

"God dammit Samino, come on. We've got to go," Joseph said with a frustrated expression. Samino smirked, amused, as he focused on the chair. "Didn't you hear? We've got to get to the medical bay," Joseph queried, his face became more and more strained with each word he spoke.

"No, I must've been napping," Dominic sneered. Joseph caught his smile this time, and smacked Dominic across the back of his head.

"Idiot," Joseph muttered as he turned to leave. Cain was standing in the doorway, and Joseph stopped at seeing him, unaware that he had been there.

"Rianhard," Joseph nodded to acknowledge him. Cain nodded back with similar recognition.

"Hey Sergeant, Samino giving you trouble?" Cain mocked with a coy smile, pointing at Dominic as he was dressing.

"When isn't he giving me trouble?" Joseph asked, "Want to give him some well deserved discipline?" Joseph began to step aside as Cain passed him, Dominic not yet fully aware that Cain was edging towards him.

"Sure thing," Cain replied. He delivered a swift kick to Dominic's chest, sending him sprawling to the floor.

"Now don't fall asleep again, all right?" Cain asked with a chuckle, extending his arm to Dominic, who was pulling himself up off the ground. With regret, Dominic outstretched his arm and took Cain's hand, allowing himself to be lifted up.

The three exited the room in silence and started to walk down the hall. As they went, people passed them by, heading all about the facility on their own business. A few pages carrying loads of papers and folders ran by, hastily making their way to some officer's office.

With a nod of greeting, two men in full combat suits passed them by, their faces the only part of their body visible under their armor. Their expressions were blank, their eyes seeming to have no energy behind them.

"Another day," one of them commented casually as Cain passed him by. Cain responded with a grunt of agreement, and continued to walk on, not paying any other mind to the two soldiers.

III.

Finally, the three arrived at the medical bay. Joseph pressed his hand to a panel that had appeared from the wall next to the door. The panel scanned his fingers, and then the door opened.

The three stepped inside to see Private Takai Kurosawa and Corporal Mark Franklin standing by a glass wall that encompassed an entire part of the room. Behind the glass wall, a soft bed with a single white sheet was placed in the center of several medical instruments and a few small metal tables.

Simon lay in the bed, his eyes closed. It would've been impossible to tell that he was breathing if not for the heartbeat monitor at his bedside that was reading his slow heartbeat.

"God dammit Simon," Cain muttered under his breath as they all stared through the glass barrier at him. They all stood in silence, watching.

"How did he end up like this?" Joseph asked, sure not to receive any answer he hadn't already thought up.

"Fainting spell, actually, Sergeant," a low voice answered. The men turned away from the glass to see the newcomer who had entered silently through the door.

A man with short blonde hair, a fair complexion, and a smooth, calm face stood in the doorway, a small smile on his face. He wore a white coat that covered him from just below the neck all the way to his feet, where a pair of black boots covered his feet.

"Simon here suffers from mild epilepsy," the doctor said as he stepped up to the glass, gesturing to him on the bed, "Though, on record, he hasn't had a faint like this in quite a long time. Not in months. We're looking into how it happened this particular time, but we won't know for sure until the psychiatrist can have a session with Simon, the poor lad."

"Thanks doc'. Is there anything we can do?" Mark asked, his eyes showing a small glimmer of kindness behind the blank eyes of no emotion that many of the men in the Black Water Operatives shared.

"Not right now. Like I said, we'll need Simon awake before we can really get anything figured out," the doctor answered.

As he stepped over to a tall steel door at the corner of the room to move into the next observation room, the door opposite the room opened. A black-clad figure appeared in the doorframe, and stepped through with an air of superiority.

"Good morning, gentlemen," the voice bellowed authoritatively. "While your sissy friend is resting, we'll get right down to business," the man said as he stood at the front of the five men. The doctor lingered for just a moment, but then quietly strode off to the next room. Joseph folded his arms, interested in what this new person had to say. Cain did likewise, standing tall next to Joseph. Dominic and Mark stood next to each other, both of them slightly slouching. Takai only watched with that same blank expression, only a hint of curiosity noticeable in his dark brown eyes.

"Now, all of you were scheduled to meet in Room 101 for your briefing, but for obvious reasons we decided to change your location," the man said in an unusually loud voice as he gestured to Simon through the window. "Now I'm certain that you all have heard tale of the UNSC Horizon. Of course you all know that it's the largest ship in this fleet, and quite likely the best as well. Well Command has commissioned it for one final voyage before retiring it from service. It will be exploring a sector of space we've yet to colonize, or even map out. No UNSC ship has been there yet, and Command thinks it's necessary that we have the Horizon be the one to explore it."

"Excuse me, sir," Dominic said mockingly, "What does that have to do with us?"

"If you'd shut your mouth and have some patience, maybe you'd find that out," the man snapped, his face red with pent-up anger. He let out a long breath, regaining his composition.

"As I was saying. Command has decided that Phoenix squad's presence will be appreciated on this voyage. And thus, you six will be going and staying with the crew on their nine month agenda. The Horizon and her crew are already prepared. Their departure is scheduled for tomorrow at 0800 hours from the space port here. You're to report to the armory at 1900 hours tonight. Is that understood? Any questions?" the man looked at each of the men's solid, blank faces.

"Good, looks like we're all on the same page. Don't worry boys, there shouldn't be too much action. You fellas like it like that, right?" he asked with a harsh laugh. He strode out of the room, leaving the five men staring at each other, frustrated. The doctor uneasily walked back in, apparent that he had been listening from just behind the door.

"He's expecting Simon to go on a mission of that scale, and so soon?" he asked tentatively.

"He said there shouldn't be much action. And there should be a doctor on board, right?" Mark asked. Takai nodded silently in agreement.

"I'm just pissed off that we're not going to get to smash any heads," Dominic said, with somewhat of a whine in his tone.

"Shut up Samino. You should be thankful you're getting so much time to sit staring at a steel wall. It's something you can actually do right," Cain said, punching Dominic jokingly in the arm, probably a little harder than necessary.

"I still don't feel that Simon should go," the doctor said. "Hopefully he should be conscious in time for a short session with the psychiatrist, just to find out if there's any information we can glean from this. In the mean time, you guys should go grab some breakfast. They may give you some leftovers, if the cooks aren't in a pissy mood," he said with a chuckle, pushing his glasses up as he walked out once more.

The men looked at each other in almost complete silence for a moment, and then exited the room solemnly. Not one of them was happy with this new agenda of theirs.

IV.

Phoenix Squad sat at a small, somewhat oily, metal table in the corner of the cafeteria. They ate in almost complete silence for the duration of their meal, but towards the end they began to speak to each other.

"Can you believe this?" Dominic whined. Takai glared, annoyed at Dominic's tone, but said nothing and slowly continued chewing his sandwich.

"Nine months of nothing but space flight. No combat, no action, nothing," Dominic continued.

"It's better than sitting here with our thumbs up our asses, isn't it?" Joseph asked rhetorically, frustrated at Dominic's complaining.

"Being a soldier isn't, believe it or not, all about fighting. There hasn't been any real fighting for almost five years now, since that rebel uprising back on Mars," Cain said, "We've been being preoccupied with a bunch of milk run missions ever since you joined up. Running about, acting like a bunch of police officers, making sure people are paying fines and stopping petty thieves back in the cities."

Only Cain, Takai, Joseph, and Simon had been a part of Phoenix Squad during the rebel revolt of 2113. It had been a long and bloody battle that had taken two months to end. Joseph remembered everything so vividly: The people screaming in fear in their homes, the militia killing themselves off in terrible explosions, the blood-covered rooms and the old-style gallows that the rebels had used to kill captured UNSC military men.

That had happened just after Simon had joined up. He had still been fresh, and cocky. He was just barely saved before he died, after that massacre at

Joseph's thoughts were cut off by a booming voice that emitted from a loudspeaker just above his seat. He abruptly sat up as the voice droned on about something along the lines of malfunctioning hardware in a firing range on the other side of the station.

"Shit's always falling apart here, isn't it?" Cain asked behind mouthful of food.

"It would seem that way," Joseph said blankly. He was still focused with suppressing a bloody image in his mind's eye.

Just then, a figure quietly sat down next to Joseph on the table. This newcomer unannounced, Joseph's body tensed. Years of experience ensured that Joseph was always ready in the slightest possibility of danger. He turned slowly to see Simon's pale face. Joseph's body relaxed as he smiled, patting Simon on the back as the others cheered for him.

"Nice fall," Cain said, "Get us any souvenirs?" Simon smiled slightly with a chuckle, but said nothing.

"Got anything to eat?" Mark asked him, looking to see if he had brought a tray. Simon shook his head.

"Here, take the rest of mine," Mark smiled as he slid his tray across the table. Simon's eyes widened and he smiled, nodding in thanks, and started to eat ravenously.

"Had a long morning, huh?" Joseph asked.

"You could say that," Simon replied as he stuffed his face with a small piece of toast.

An hour later, the six men of Phoenix Squad were walking through a twin pair of titanium blast doors, entering the huge, open armory. Several men were moving about quickly amongst the rifles, handguns, explosives, and other miscellaneous equipment as the six walked in.

A tall man in a white jumpsuit that contrasted Phoenix Squad's, with a black UNSC logo on the center of his chest, greeted them loudly as he walked up to them.

"Good morning, gentlemen," he boomed, "I'll be showing you your load out for your upcoming mission." The man shook each of their hands, introducing himself as John. He led them down the aisles of weapons, telling them an inane amount of facts about each individual weapon that made Joseph's head spin.

Finally they arrived at a large table covered in equipment and weaponry about halfway down the second row from the wall.

"Here it all is," John said, gesticulating towards everything on the table with a wide spread of his arm.

"Let's jump right in, shall we?" he asked as he lifted up an assault rifle. "This is the FX-09 Assault Rifle, the newest model. Unlike the older models, this one now can switch more quickly between single, automatic, and three-shot burst. It has a clip size of thirty-six, and each of you will be given ten preliminary clips of ammunition. We've only commissioned for a small number of these to be produced, so feel lucky that you're getting your hands on these."

He smacked his gum loudly as he set the rifle down and lifted up a pair of round grenades.

"These are your standard fragmentation grenades. They've got an explosive kill range of fifteen meters, and the shrapnel can fly as far as fifty more. Don't drop 'em," he laughed as he set them down and lifted up another weapon.

"Here's your DSK-82 .50 caliber sniper rifle. We've only got two of these for you all, but don't worry: That's probably all you'll need. This baby loads eight rounds in a clip, with an effective range of more than two miles. You can get eight clean shots within thirty seconds, so be careful, will you?" he nodded to Mark and Cain, the two who had been assigned the rifles. Cain's eyes widened with a small sense of joy, Mark simply nodding with a slightly awed smile.

John went on, showing them everything from FP-45 handguns and tactical knives to shotguns and a new headset system that had been developed for squad communication.

Not exactly necessary, Joseph thought casually. But hey, it's Command's money, not mine.

"Hope you boys are satisfied," John said as he shook all of their hands once again, "Don't worry about keeping up with your stuff. It'll all be loaded onto the ship and will be available for pick up when you get on board. Hope y'all have a good trip," he said with a wink, and started to pack up a handful of grenades into a metal case.

"I can't wait to try out that automatic shotgun," Cain was musing as Dominic and Mark chattered on about the rocket launcher they had seen on another table.

" Can't wait for a mission where we get to try that out" Joseph heard Mark say with enthusiasm. Of course, Joseph thought, what man in the Black Water Operatives can resist the urge of blowing things up?

V.

The rest of their day consisted of leisure time down at the firing range and in the weight room. Cain and Takai were practicing their aim, competing against each other for hours on the range. Mark and Dominic had gone to lift barbells, trying to see who could lift more weight on one arm. Joseph wandered about, watching his companions and sometimes joining in. Simon sat alone in his room, reading a book.

The six men left, all in high spirits, to go to dinner at around 1800 hours. They sat at the same oily table from breakfast, chewing their food as they talked casually. They laughed, and got along well enough, as far as Black Water Operatives went.

That night, they all went to the closest thing to a bar on base and had a few rounds of liquor. The men all went their separate ways, stumbling off to their quarters one by one as they wandered the halls aimlessly.

Simon fell into his cabin, leaving just Cain and Joseph in the corridor outside of his quarters. Cain and Joseph were arm in arm, using each other for support as they sang boisterously and hiccupped as they went, falling here and there.

Simon's head was spinning as his door shut mechanically behind him, and as the voices outside drifted away Simon slid to the floor.

"Too much to drink," he told himself. "Never again," he kept muttering as he crawled to the bathroom, propping himself up again the toilet. He leaned over the porcelain seat and vomited into the water. The taste was dry and burned his throat. He flushed and pulled himself up off the ground, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt.

His vision was blurred and moving in all directions as he made his way, falling over several times, to his bed. He blundered about and finally lay down in the sleeping tube, his stomach churning as his vision before his eyes, leaving trails of white and flashes of color before his eyes.

His mind raced, and he looked over to the poster. The purple visor stared back blankly, and Simon could only stare like a child in stupid awe. He shook his head and closed his eyes after breaking contact with the black soldier that rest upon his wall.

The nausea resided as Simon closed his eyes. He began to think of the voyage, and the day's events. His mind wandered, until finally it ventured into unexplored waters once more. The first notes of a ghastly, yet familiar, orchestra rose out of the utter darkness as sleep tugged at Simon's conscious.

VI.

The next morning was a blur to the men of Phoenix Squad. Engineers bustled about, carrying with them documents, blueprints, tools, and equipment. Technicians stood all about a giant ship docked in the largest harbor in the base, fusing metal together with blowtorches on the hull of the vessel. Military personnel hustled to and fro, inquiring people about permits and clearance. The men of Phoenix Squad sat stolidly to one side, sitting in full armor and watching the people running about in almost complete silence.

After a few hours of waiting, the crew boarded the UNSC Horizon. They were given clearance, and the next thing anyone remembers is strapping into a nearby seat and feeling over ten thousand pounds of inertia pressed against them as they sped out of orbit of the small colony world.

Joseph stood up after the cabin pressurized and normal pressure returned to the compartment him and the others were sitting in. He shook violently, his legs shaking. Space travel always made him uneasy.

He watched as the others began their own struggle to stand. Cain seemed to shake it off more so than the others, and stood up straight and laughed as Dominic fell to the ground. Mark bent over to help him up, that same smile he always had plastered on his young face. Simon still sat, now reading a book quietly.

Cain stepped over to a nearby cabinet and pulled out a few glasses. They filled them with a light liquor Mark had brought along.

"To simple duty," Cain said as he began to raise his glass. The others mimicked him. "To nine months of nothing," he said before drinking his entire serving in one gulp. The others did the same. Mark collected the glasses and put them back on the cabinet shelf, and then stashed the liquor in the back of one of the compartments.

After an hour or so of talking, a short man came to the cabin and told them that they had been summoned by the flight captain. The six followed the strange little man, and they made their way through the ship to the bridge.

None of the men had actually realized the scale of the ship until they had walked over half of its length. They went through countless hallways, passing several dozens of different stations, labs, and sleeping quarters. The ship housed about one hundred crewmen, each of them with their own places to be and things to do. The Horizon more than accommodated for that.

After trudging through the interior of the vessel for a half an hour, the men finally came to the bridge. They stepped through the blast door, and beheld the view before them.

A long walkway stretched out before them. On either side of this, countless consoles and computers beeped and spat out data, each of them manned by a person who was furiously at work, studying them intently. At the end of the walkway was a lone chair, and before that was a huge section of glass, through which one could see the complete expanse of black empty space, stars littered amongst this huge void.

The six men walked down the walkway, their pace now heightened as they finally approached their destination. As they neared the end of the stretch, the chair swiveled around to reveal the man occupying it. He looked like he had to be at least fifty, if not older. He sat in a solid gray jumpsuit, and his eyebrows were knitted together in such a manner that it gave him the appearance of always being angry.

But as the six men of Phoenix Squad approached him, he smiled and gestured to them with his hands.

"Welcome, my friends," he said, more powerfully than could've been expected from someone of his appearance, "I pray nothing troubled you during the initial take off." He chuckled, "Don't worry, I always have a hard time keeping my breakfast down afterwards."

He watched the expressions of each of the six, and after realizing they had nothing to say, he went on. "I've summoned you here because I'd like to make it truly clear why you've been brought on board. We are afraid that any threat to this ship is possible here in this unexplored area of space. And normally, we'd simply stick to our guns and go it alone, but the amount of data this ship has housed is enormous. Even if any confidential information has been deleted from the archives, anything can be recovered if done correctly. And that data cannot be put into the wrong hands," he spoke slowly, allowing each sentence to make its impact. He stared at each of them intently, making sure they understood.

"So I beg you, no matter what, ensure that this ship doesn't fall to someone. In any situation, this ship must not come under the control of anyone. Those are your only orders. Do you understand?" He looked at each of them.

"Yes sir," Joseph and Cain answered. The others mimicked them, except for Takai, who merely nodded his head in silence.

"Excellent," the captain smiled, his entire attitude changing, "Then you may go. Please, enjoy everything we have to offer. We'll call you if we need anything." He chuckled once more as the men turned to leave. As soon as they had exited the room, he smiled and turned, and resumed his quiet stare into the darkness as the ship slowly meandered through the empty vacuum of space.

A few hours later, the six men of Phoenix Squad found themselves drunk once again. They all drank as much as they had had the night before, except for Simon, who instead fixed himself a glass of water.

Afterwards, they all went back to their cabins with only a little noise, and fell asleep. If every day was going to be like this, spending nine months in deep space may not be so bad after all.

VII.

They spent weeks doing next to nothing, simply wandering about the ship, watching scientists perform intriguing experiments that had to do with combat suits and powerful weapons, shooting in a small makeshift shooting range they had put together using one of the unused rooms of the ship, and doing a few menial tasks that were assigned to them.

But one day, about a month after they had begun the voyage, they were summoned to the control room. There they were greeted by the captain, who was dressed in the same gray jumpsuit as he had been wearing the first day they had met him.

"Greetings," he said with a smile as they approached him. "I'm sorry that you haven't been exactly thrilled with what's been going on for the past weeks, but we've got something important for you to do." The captain pulled up the hologram of a map on a nearby computer, and showed the six men.

"We're currently orbiting this small planet," he said as he pointed to a little circle near the edge of the hologram. "It's surface is swampy and bog-like, and is almost completely covered by water. We've picked up a strange amount of heat signatures emitting from a small spot on the planet, and we'd like to ask you to travel down there and investigate. Your gear is ready for you in the docking bay, where a ship has been prepared for you. We urge you to proceed as quickly as possible, because we don't know how much longer we can afford to remain in orbit of this planet. Good luck." He switched off the hologram and allowed the men to be escorted by a few crew members through the doors before sitting down, staring intently at another console that was spewing off data.

A half an hour later, the men of Phoenix Squad entered through the doors of the hangar, clad in black combat armor. Each of them held a weapon tightly in their hands as they strode in line towards the small ship that would take them to the surface of the planet.

The inside of their visors made a soft whirring noise as they activated, the built-in computer turning on all of the systems. As the communication system opened up, they began to speak to each other as more readings and lines of data blitzed before their eyes.

The air was tense as they climbed into the jet black vessel. As Takai slid the door shut, the inside lit up with the lights of an insurmountable amount of buttons began to flash. Dominic manned the controls as the others began to strap themselves in. Cain spoke with an engineer through his headset, telling the man that they were already.

As they were given the clearance to go, Dominic slowly moved the ship upward as the hangar door slowly began to slide open. The sucking sound of air escaping into space was all around them as their own vessel pressurized in the new environment.

Before them was not the black void that could clearly be seen from the bridge, but instead the green expanse of the planet below. Dominic flipped a switch, and immediately the ship began to glide out of the hangar.

The planet became larger and larger in their view as they neared it. After a few silent minutes, Joseph told them all to prepare for the descent. They strapped themselves tighter into their seats.

Simon felt his hands numb as he gripped his gun tightly, feeling the anxiety well up inside of him. None of them knew what to expect, and for some reason Simon had a terrible feeling in the gut of his stomach.

These thoughts went quickly flying from Simon's conscious as did everything else as he felt the entire vessel heat up as it entered the atmosphere of the boggy planet. He held on tightly, and could do little else as they shot through the atmosphere at a million miles an hour. The last thing he could remember was a loud scream as the ship rocketed down to the surface. Once again, he wasn't sure if it was his before he blacked out.

Somewhere nearby, water bubbled. A hand was shaking Simon as his eyes slowly began to force themselves open. Above him, Joseph stood with a worried expression. As he saw Simon come to his senses, Joseph's face changed to a smile, and he clasped him on the shoulder. Joseph lifted Simon up out of his seat, speaking as he did so.

"Come on, we've got to get going. We've only got a few hours of oxygen left," Joseph told him as they walked out of the small ship. The two dropped down into the murky water than surrounded their vessel, sinking knee deep into the mud beneath. The other four were standing around, weapons held high and ready.

Mark withdrew a small device and began to study it. The screen on it beeped as it located the area the heat signatures were coming from. They silently walked behind Mark as they ducked underneath strange, twisted trees and other fauna, the water always around them.

"Thank God for these suits," Cain remarked, "Without them, I'd have probably felt about nine tentacles against my leg by now." Joseph laughed, and then all became quiet again as Mark abruptly stopped ahead.

Before them was a curtain of strangely luminescent vines. Mark pointed silently towards it, and the others nodded as they understood: The heat was coming from the other side. They all raised their weapons high as Mark began to move them aside.

The men quickly stormed through and began to search every angle, the tension growing as the very air seemed to be holding its breath. Then, a bubble burst and they all turned quickly to the noise.

"What the hell?" Mark said, bending down to his waist in the swampy water. "Sir," he said to Joseph after a moment of studying the area where the bubble had emerged, "I think the heat signatures are being given off by the gases here. There's nothing else going on. We came all this way for nothing," he sighed as he moved to the branch of a low-lying tree and sat down on it, lifting himself above the water.

The others sighed and made their way to the same tree and hoisted themselves up onto it.

"Perfect," Dominic said, "Just fucking perfect."

VIII.

Above the swampy planet, a small figure began to come into view. As it got closer, it grew exponentially in size. As it moved silently through space, one could clearly see the skulls that had been sprayed onto its hull, if looking out from one of the windows of the Horizon.

But the entire crew was oblivious, working diligently in their laboratories and hustling about the facilities, so they did not notice the hulking mass creep up to the Horizon undetected.

Frank West, one of the newest engineers on the crew, was moving slowly down the hallway, grudgingly making his way to the hangar. He had been assigned for cleaning out one of the vessels that had had oil spilled inside of it, a task he was not looking forward to.

Just before he stepped through the blast door, he heard a scream of terror. He looked around, wide-eyed, trying to locate the noise. Suddenly, the loud blast of a handgun came from behind the door to the hangar.

Frank ducked down in the archway of a nearby door. He felt fear creeping up his back, but a powerful sense of curiosity to investigate. Silence followed the last noise from what he had only concluded was a gun.

Perhaps something had burst and one of the technicians had been taken by surprise. He got up and carefully made his way to the mechanical door. He stood staring, and turned to look behind him. No one was in the corridor behind him, and he could hear nothing from the other side.

He pressed his hand to the heat scanning panel, and the door began to slide open. As it opened, Frank looked through and let out a scream that he managed to strangle in his throat.

Before him, a band of men, covered in all different colors and mismatched in different armor and clothing, were busy hanging a number of bodies from the railing of a walkway about twenty meters off the ground. Blood fell from the corpses and spattered onto the floor, the faces of the dead men fixed in absolute horror.

The men turned as the door opened. The nearest one grinned evilly, and dashed to Frank. He had only begun to turn and run back through the door as he felt a searing pain pierce through his knee cap. He fell to the ground with a shriek of pain. He turned with a groan as he felt the toe of a black boot press against his ribs.

He looked up to see a hooded man staring down at him, smirking with evil pleasure. Frank felt the bottom of his boot smash his chest violently. He heard his bones crack as white lights flashed before his eyes. He stared on blankly as he saw the man withdraw a handgun and slide a round into the chamber.

The barrel pointed down to his face, and Frank's eyes slowly moved upward just before he felt the round drill through his nose and into his brain. Red covered his sight just before a void of darkness even blacker than space enveloped him.

IX.

The men of Phoenix Squad had recorded the strange gaseous phenomena, and were now making their way off the planet. Their small vessel careened towards the Horizon after it broke from the atmosphere of the swampy planet.

Something about the giant cruiser seemed different. It seemed to move more slowly than before, no longer purposefully orbiting but more like listlessly floating.

It had been several hours since they had landed on the planet, as they had done a bit more investigation of some strange lights a few kilometers away from the area the heat signatures had been detected at, curious as to what they would find. After thoroughly searching, they concluded that it was an illusion caused by the swamp, and they had made their way quickly back to their small vessel.

"Dominic, slow us down," Joseph said as he studied the surface of the Horizon intently, "Something is wrong."

The little ship began to slow as they drew nearer to the huge cruiser. It seemed like around the hulking cruiser a dark and foreboding atmosphere had fallen like heavy fog.

"Don't go into that hangar. Are the any other places we can dock?" Joseph asked. Cain pulled up a map of schematics from a console next to the controls where Dominic sat.

"There's a smaller docking bay on the opposite side, but it's only for technicians using maintenance droids to repair the hull of the ship. We don't have clearance," Cain told Joseph.

"That's fine, if we get into trouble, I'll take the beating. Don't try to hail the communications array; I've got a feeling no one is going to be answering us," Joseph said quietly as he gazed at the silent exterior of the UNSC Horizon.

Dominic flew their small ship silently underneath the Horizon and moved to the other side. The docking bay's doors were smaller than the men had originally thought, and it was sealed.

Takai got up without a word and bent over a console, and after a few minutes of intent typing the docking bay began to open. He sat back down, making no sound, and stared blankly.

Joseph would never understand why Takai was the way he was, but he was sure as hell glad to have him on his squad.

Dominic maneuvered the craft slowly into the hangar, the others holding their breath. However, Dominic managed to successfully move it through the small doors just before they shut.

The hangar began to pressurize, oxygen stealing into the room through the vents as Phoenix Squad waited. No one was moving about, working. No one was coming towards them, red faced and shouting at them for what they had done. There was no movement, at all.

After a few moments of eternity, they concluded that no one was coming. The tension in the air hung so heavily that they could practically smell it.

They began to move out of the vessel in utter silence, looking around alertly. Things were not at all as they should be, that much was apparent.

"Men, we're on alert," Joseph said as he lifted his weapon. The others did the same.

"Safety's off," Cain said, switching the catch on his rifle off. The men formed a semicircle, Mark and Dominic on either side, the others between them. They moved without speaking forward, searching each corner.

In perspective, if there was nothing wrong, they would look like complete fools moving around like this. But they had been trained to never ignore first instincts, and all their instincts were screaming at them, telling them that everything was wrong, that there was something amiss.

They moved forward, and Joseph pressed his hand against the panel. The door began to unlock, and as it opened they rushed through it, pressing against the nearest walls.

Cain stole a look out into the corridor, and then gestured to Mark. He moved over to Cain and crouched down next to him.

"What is it?" Mark asked. Cain simply pointed down the hall, and Mark followed to where his finger was pointing to.

At the end of the long corridor, a figure clad in black and gray leaned against a wall, smoking a cigarette.

"Spot me, will you?" Cain asked Mark as he pressed himself onto the floor, aiming his rifle. Mark nodded and began to aim his own rifle, resting it on his leg.

"Not exactly standard clothing for an engineer, huh?" Mark asked as he trained his rifle on the figure.

"Didn't you hear?" Cain asked. He looked down the sight, aiming silently. He drew in a deep breath, pulling back on the trigger. The round discharged, the silencer attached at the end muffling the sound of exploding gunpowder, and the only other noise heard was the body slumping to the ground, already forming a pool of blood. "It's casual Friday."

"Good, because the tuxedo I've been wearing all week is starting to wrinkle," Joseph said as he stepped ahead of them and began advancing quickly down the hall. The others followed, staying alert, watching for any movement.

"You know we're in a lot of shit if this guy wasn't about to step on some serious nuts here, right?" Dominic asked.

"That's nothing we're going to have to worry about, Samino," Joseph said as he rolled the body over. Painted on the black piece of armor on the man's chest was a white skull.

"So what, mercenaries? Or is it Halloween?" Mark asked, spitting on the body.

"All right, men. We're no longer on alert. We've got ass to kick. Mark, try to get a radio signal out, and try to listen in on any conversations you can. We need to figure out what's going on," Joseph said. Mark nodded and began to work quickly at the handheld device he had just withdrawn.

Half an hour later, they had gathered as much information as they needed. The ship had been apprehended by a group of mercenaries that called themselves the Red Dawn. A distress signal had been issued from the ship approximately five hours ago telling that the crew had been taken hostage. Executions had begun, and apparently there was no ransom that these mercenaries were looking for.

"They've taken up defensive positions in the bridge and control room," Joseph told the others, "It's our duty to get these bastards off our ship. If we can take the control room, we can effectively lock them in, wherever they're hunkered down at. That's where we're headed. Let's get moving."

They began to make their way gradually toward the control room. Along the way, they encountered a few patrols of the mercenaries. The men hid in the shadows, and as they passed they would usually find that they would never be quick enough to escape the blade sinking into their backs.

An hour later, the men of Phoenix Squad stacked up against the blast door of the control room. Joseph nodded to Dominic, who held a fragmentation grenade in his hand. As Joseph began to unlock the door, Dominic pulled the pin and threw it in.

They waited just a moment, hearing the cry of a man who had been taken by surprise as the grenade slid under his feet. The explosion erupted, firing shrapnel outwards.

The six men stormed in, guns blazing. There were almost fifty of them. Joseph ducked behind a nearby table, just barely escaping the bullets as they whizzed above his head.

Takai flipped over one of the rows of consoles, firing as he did so. He took out three and then pressed against the floor as another, armed with a machine gun, sprayed rounds in his direction.

Takai began to move quickly, and then threw himself up onto one of the computers and grabbed onto a vent above his head, throwing his body upward on top of it. In the blink of an eye, he jumped down without a word, knife withdrawn, and tackled the mercenary holding the light machine gun. He slid the blade into his neck and then moved out of the way just as a grenade landed inches away from him.

Cain and Mark leaned from behind the door, and were continuously picking off individual men as they fired at their companions, blood spraying with each shot.

As much damage as they were incurring, Joseph realized now that the mercenaries were aware of their presence. They had lost their element of surprise. This was confirmed when he looked up at one of the monitors above his head, displaying a video feed from a security camera stationed at the end of a hall not too far from the control room.

"Pull back!" Joseph shouted, "They're coming from behind!" He began to run, Takai suddenly jumping down beside him from somewhere above and moving with him back towards the exit.

Cain and Mark were the first to turn, and were facing the hallway just as the first reinforcements made their way around the corner. They began to unload on the first unaware ones, rounds cracking skulls and spurting blood from chests as they pulled down on the trigger.

Simon and Dominic ran through the exit, laying down suppressing fire back into the room as the blast door shut. Takai was already spraying his assault rifle at the men who were now firing back at them from the end of the corridor.

Joseph locked the door as the control room shut, and put it in emergency lockdown.

"The lock will only hold for a few minutes, get moving!" he shouted.

"Where do we go? There's nowhere to hide!" Dominic yelled back, pulling the pin and sliding a grenade across the floor.

Joseph looked around, his mind racing, and then up. He saw one of ventilation shafts, a gaping hole visible from where he stood.

"Oh yes, there is. Up!" he hoisted himself up, Takai close behind. Dominic and Mark turned, and threw themselves up. Joseph and Takai grabbed them and lifted them up. Cain jumped up close behind. Simon was just below, unaware that the others had left.

Just as the mercenaries at the end began to rush towards him, firing wildly, Joseph leaned down and grabbed Simon by the shoulders and pulled him up quickly.

But no rest was given to them, for just moments later bullets began to fly through the vents.

"Crawl! Go!" Joseph ordered, crawling rapidly down the shaft. The hot air blew against him, warming his suit. He tried to dodge as more bullets flew from below.

His visor pulled up a built-in schematic of the ship as they crawled.

"Mr. Terryn, I'm sorry to inform you that this area is restricted. You are currently moving into the heat lab, where experiments are being tested for their ability to withstand-" a voice began, but abruptly shut off as Joseph shouted over it to his men.

"We're moving through the walls! They can't follow us through here!" But they still crawled, just as fast as before, down the cramped ventilation shaft.

Ahead of Joseph, a red light gleamed from around a corner.

"I think there's a way out ahead," Joseph spoke into his headset.

"Thank God, I was getting tired of staring at Cain's ass," Mark said.

"You know you like what you see, dickwad," Cain called back.

Joseph turned the corner and abruptly stopped. Before him, the shaft suddenly opened up into a vertical space. Below, the red light of a burning furnace glowed. He felt Cain crash into him, and Joseph nearly went over the edge.

"Stop!" he shouted, just in time to catch his balance. "We've come to bit of an impasse."

"What is it?" Simon asked timidly.

"About 2,500 degrees of hurt," Cain replied.

"Takai, find us a way out of here," Joseph said. He waited for a reply he knew wouldn't come, but it came a moment later in a form he hadn't been expecting as he heard metal crash against a surface.

"Well that's one way to do it," Dominic said. The men began to crawl back through the shaft, and Joseph realized that Takai had smashed through the vent. He dropped down, amazed at Takai's simple brilliance.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"The heat lab, apparently. Now what do we do?" Cain asked, leaning against the wall, resting his rifle as he slid off his helmet.

X.

As the firefight erupted on another part of the ship, a band of mismatched figures slipped silently onto the UNSC Horizon. Some were tall and thin, others short and grubby. Some used tentacles to move, others hoofed feet. Some had two arms, and others had five. They moved quietly, and easily avoided detection.

They were used to this work, being the quasi-police force of a federation of alien governments that had resided in this sector of space for over three thousand millennia. They traveled between each of the planets aligned with this federation, ensuring that the peace was kept.

This unregistered vessel had been located as they had been making their way to a distress beacon coming from the planet below. They had reasoned that this strange ship may have had some relation to the signal, and thus had boarded on the grounds of investigation.

They moved about in utter silence. They had no use for speech, nor did they need to utilize their telepathic capabilities. They had long ago organized their thoughts as one, and were now working not cooperatively, but as the equivalent of a single individual.

The creatures moved about, searching for anything. Many times they had encountered warm blooded movement, but these could not be anything like the space pirates that they had had to deal with as of late due to the slave revolt on Nollat IV, and thus had ignored them.

Suddenly, one of their thoughts was cut. Their thought process became contorted, and misconstrued abruptly. One of them was breaking away.
Quickly, they reverted to communicating telepathically. Doing so felt strange, having not communicated like this in many years.

"What's going on?" they asked each other. They moved ahead, the same question echoing between their thoughts. One of them turned a corner, and then suddenly a scream pierced through the others' minds.

A giant beast tackled one of them, sending it smashing into the wall. The others realized it was their companion, who had moved ahead. They tried to communicate with him, but his thoughts were blurred and primitive. They could no longer speak to him.

It snarled and charged, smashing them in a fit of rage. Its skin had been horribly changed, and its eyes seethed with anger. Its body was morphing. Tentacles began to move outward from underneath the first set of arms, lashing at them.

The first one to be tackled was beginning to change, too. Its skin rippled, and it began to rise up. It turned from pale white to a sickly green color, and began to charge at them as well.

One of them told the others what had happened. Their friend had come into contact with an alien compound, and had caused its evolutionary tract to change horribly. There was nothing they could do, and it had begun to infect those it killed, like a parasite.

They fought back, but one by one they began to fall. The remaining survivors concluded there was nothing they could do. They had to make their escape. They would forsake their companions, and leave fate to what it was. The parasite would die off on its own.

They would escape, and no one else would be harmed.

XI.

"We have to split up." That was the last thing Joseph said, Mark recalled, as he followed behind Dominic. After taking a short rest, they had concluded that the only way to cover ground in time to save anyone was to split up.

Simon had gone with Joseph, Takai with Cain. Mark and Dominic had gone together, and begun to move towards one of the larger laboratories where they had concluded a number of hostages would be kept.

The walk had been silent, except for the minimum communication between the two. They had been too busy watching ahead, and caught up in staring at the appalling images along the way.

Crewmen had been brutally murdered, their bodies hanging and their guts spilled across the floor of each of the corridors.

Mark shivered as they went, but managed to retain his cool as much as possible.

"Sir, we're approaching the laboratory," Mark called in from his headset.

"Good. Proceed with caution," Joseph replied.

"Will do," Mark said. "Dominic, get ready," he said as he lifted his weapon higher. Dominic nodded and lifted up his rifle. They pressed up against either side of the blast door. Dominic withdrew a grenade and nodded without a word to Mark. Mark pressed his hand against the panel and Dominic threw the grenade in as the door unlocked.

They ran through, and began to immediately fire back at the hail of bullets that had begun to fly at them. The battle carried on for only about a minute. Everything raced by so quickly, and yet it seemed forever.

Mark saw Dominic run up to a second door and step through it, tackling a man as he did so. A rocket flew from somewhere to the left of Mark and crashed into the door frame, causing it to collapse, leaving Dominic trapped on the other side.

"Shit!" Mark cried, "I've lost Samino. I repeat, I've lost Samino!" he shouted as he backed out the blast door, quickly shutting it behind him.

"Try to find a way to get back with him, damnit!" Cain shouted over the communications system. Mark didn't bother to reply, and instead began to pull up a schematic of the floor plan. He saw a maintenance chute that led straight to a room linked with where Dominic had fallen.

He began to make his way there quickly, his heart racing. His body pulsed in rhythm with the sound of his heavy black boots crashing against the ground with each step he took.

"Dominic, do you read me?" he called. Static. "Dominic, do you read me?" he repeated. More static. "Damnit Samino, answer me!" he shouted.

"Yeah, I read you," Dominic called back, his voice hoarse and his breathing heavy.

"I've never been happier to hear your voice, Dominic," Mark said with a sigh of relief. "Where are you?"

"Right at the end of the maintenance tunnel. Was that where you were headed?" Dominic replied.
"I'll meet you there," Mark said, and began to run even faster. He rounded the corner and entered the tunnel. At the end, he could make out Dominic's figure. He began to run towards him, calling out to him.

"Dom! Dom!" he shouted. He ran up to him and stopped to catch his breath.

"I didn't think I'd see you again, man," he said as through gulps of air.

"It's good to see you, too," Dominic replied, holding his hand up for a high five. Mark lifted his hand up to his. Dominic suddenly grabbed Mark's wrist with an iron grasp with incredible speed, and pulled him over, his face only inches from his own. "I'll miss you the most, Mark," Dominic said as he withdrew a handgun and pressed it to Mark's stomach.

Mark felt the round enter through his gut and out through the top of his stomach. The burning sensation tore through him with unbelievable speed.

"So this is what it feels like, huh?" Mark asked the air more so than Dominic as his eyes turned upward in his head and he fell over, blood pooling underneath his cringed figure.

Dominic smiled evilly. "That's one," he spoke into his headset.

"Excellent. Now the trap has been baited," a cold voice answered from the other end.

XII.

"Mark's down!" Dominic's voice came in over Joseph's headset. "I'm uploading our location to you all now. I'll try to hold out for as long as I can, but get here soon!" Dominic's voice abruptly dissipated, and suddenly data began flowing across the bottom of Joseph's visor.

"Simon, let's get going," he called. Simon turned around from where he had been standing, studying something on the wall, and quickly moved to Joseph's side. "The maintenance tunnel isn't far from here, let's go."

"Cain, did you hear that?" Joseph asked.

"Yes, Takai and I will be there in just a moment," he said.

They all raced from where they had been to the spot, and met up in the corridor just before the tunnel's entrance. They only nodded to each other as they ran in, ready for anything.

They saw a figure at the end, and before they fired the figure lifted his arms up and called out, "It's me!"

They recognized Dominic's voice, and quickly ran to him. Just as they approached, a bright flash of light blinded them. Joseph felt a bullet scrape his arm, piercing through his shoulder pads. Simon screamed, and Cain yelled as he fired aimlessly towards where the bullets were streaming from. Takai was darting about somewhere nearby, already recovering from the explosion of light.

Joseph quickly recovered, his adrenaline pumping as he dropped to the floor and began to fire. Blood poured from his wound, but he paid little attention.

"Joseph, lying on the floor isn't going to help us! Get the hell up!" Cain shouted, pulling on his ankle. Joseph quickly jumped up and continued firing, all the while backing up as countless black figures pressed towards them, firing continuously at them.

"Fuck, I'm hit!" Cain shouted.

"Pull back, pull back!" Joseph yelled. He turned to run and saw at the other end five men running through.

"We're surrounded!" Simon cried.

It's over, Simon thought. This is how it ends. The music began to creep back into his mind as Simon's body froze up. Everything else was drowned out as the orchestra began to play, the music dipping up and down.

Suddenly, everything went black. Was this what it was like to be dead? Simon asked himself. No, it can't be. The floor feels like it's moving underneath me. What is this?

Just as suddenly as the light had disappeared, it flashed back in his face as Joseph shined a flashlight into his face, pressing his fingers to his lips. He slid the grate above their heads back into place without making noise, and gesticulated to Simon to follow. The two crawled for a short while, and then stopped when the floor opened up a bit, allowing the two to sit side by side.

Cain and Takai sat across from each other, as Simon and Joseph came up next to them.

"What happened?" Cain asked, trying to assess where they were.

"The lights cut out. I moved the grating beneath us and we slipped through. I don't think any of them realize where we went. We'll be safe, for now."

XIII.

Hours later, the four men crawled out from the grating to find that the maintenance tunnel was now empty. Bodies and ammunition were scattered across the ground, blood swathed over everything.

"Did we do all of this?" Cain asked as he kicked some of the bodies over.

"It's hard to believe, but I guess so," Joseph said as he picked his way through the corpses, "So we're all agreed on our next course of action?"

They had decided that their only plan that remained was to storm the bridge and take as many as they could. No doubt by now all the hostages were dead, and there was no hope that the four of them could survive by hiding for much longer, now that Dominic was with them.

The others nodded solemnly. They all knew that they were most likely about to go running to their deaths, but accepted their fate. They had all accepted they were destined to die in the service long before this. They were ready. This moment almost seemed fulfilling.

"Then let's get going," he said, and began to run, the others close behind.

A half hour later, they came to the bridge. Surprisingly, they had encountered no one along the way. No guards, patrols, or anything. Surely they were aware of their presence even now, and were waiting behind the door.

None of the four men cared about that. They held their breath, pressed against the wall on either side of the blast door. Joseph slowly pressed his hand to the panel, and the doors began to unlock. Joseph stood in the center, his gun only held just above his waist. He braced himself for the storm of bullets that would crash into him, that would ultimately tear through him and end his existence.

But as the doors finished sliding open, that moment didn't come. There was only silence. An eerie silence that crept through the opening with the heavy, musky odor of death.

The men stood, awestruck, mouths agape, at the scene before them. The window that had once allowed one to look out to see the stars was swathed in blood. Trails of blood and entrails covered the ground. Torn bodies were scattered about, some thrown against smashed computers, and others slumped on the red-stained floor.

Joseph and the others stepped into the room and looked around, shocked. How could this have happened?

They made their way across the walkway, and came up to the captain's seat. Cain turned it around to reveal a mutilated body, the head removed from its neck, blood stained on the leather of the chair.

They looked down at the chest, and saw the insignia of the UNSC upon it. Underneath was a tag that read "Samino."

"Glad the bastard got what was coming to him," Cain said as he spat on the body.

"So what happened here?" Joseph asked, looking around, still shocked by the bloodshed. There must have been at least eighty corpses.

"Maybe they got into some sort of power struggle?" Cain mused, staring at a body that was awkwardly leaned against another, chuckling in quiet amusement.

"Well, that can't be it, because look at how these bodies... Wait, what the hell? Did you see that?" Joseph asked, pointing to the end of the room.

"What was it?" Simon asked quietly, eyes wide in fear. Takai cracked his knuckles.

"It was like something slithered across the ground, it was- There it is again! What the hell? The bodies! They're moving!" Joseph exclaimed in complete terror.

The corpses were rising up, rearranging themselves to form horribly torn beasts. Some had no heads, others missing appendages or cut down at the waist. Each of them was truly horrifying in its own way, and they were all quickly getting used to their new bodily functions.

Without a word, the four men began to fire. They ran as fast as their feet would carry them, running through them and shooting rapidly, trying to make it to the door.

More of the monsters dropped down from the ventilation shafts. One of them landed on Takai, who quickly withdrew his knife and sliced the creature's tentacles off, a viscous green substance spewing onto his black armor.

They ran through the door and Joseph quickly locked it as Simon managed to slide through just as one of the horrors lunged at him. It got smashed in half as the door shut and locked.

Immediately, the others began to pound against the door in a swarm, the metal bending as they furiously moved to get in at them.

"We haven't got much time, get moving!" Cain shouted. They turned to run, looking all about them. They realized they were now in the center of a floating graveyard, countless amounts of bodies now alive, trying to kill them. Any corner could reveal dozens, or hundreds of them.

Simon felt fear creeping up his spine as he ran behind Joseph. That prickling feeling of being watched began to move across Simon's skin, feeling as if the monsters were in every crack, every crevice, watching and waiting.

After running for almost an hour straight, they stopped for breath. Cain rested on his rifle, and Takai cracked his knuckles as Simon slumped to the floor, gasping for air.

"Look. We're pretty much screwed by now," Joseph said. "But there's still hope. Simon, since you're the only one left with the qualifications of understanding electrical conduits now that Dominic is gone, you and I will go to the power generator and try to get it working. We can only assume that's why the electricity is out. Cain, you and Takai head to the docking bay and prepare a ship and wait for us. If the power comes on and we don't show up in ten minutes after that, leave without us," he began to order, taking the commanding position once more.

"Yes, sir," Cain said abruptly. Takai nodded, lifting up his gun and stretching his arms out a bit, allowing his bones to crack and his muscles to bulge.

"Simon, let's get going," Joseph said. Simon picked himself up off the floor as Joseph turned to Cain, "We'll see you on the other side."

XIV.

Simon followed closely behind Joseph, looking around anxiously. They hadn't encountered many more of the creatures, and the ones they had had proved to be significantly weaker than the ones on the bridge.

Where could they all be? Simon wondered. Surely there were now hundreds of them moving about on the many levels of the cruiser. But how could they have been created? What was the center of their power? These questions rattled his mind as Joseph led him through the dark corridors of the Horizon.

Finally, Joseph stopped ahead of him. He looked over Joseph's shoulder and saw the gaping black hole that marked the entrance to the area where the power generator was housed.

Just as they began to step through, a band of the alien terrors fell from above. Joseph shouted out and turned, firing his rifle at them and gunning down the nearest of the assailants.

"Simon! Get through the door! I'll hold them off! Just get the generator up!" he shouted. Simon hesitated, looking between the gaping maw of the black opening and the monsters encroaching on him and Joseph, frozen to the spot.

"Damnit Simon! Get through that damn door! Now!" Joseph turned and pushed him through it, and then quickly snapped back to firing at the beasts as one tried to jump onto him.

Simon came back to his sense just in time to butt one of the creatures away. He ran to the door panel and attempted to close it, but wouldn't go to emergency override.

Simon backed up and withdrew three grenades. He pulled the pins simultaneously and threw them at the door, causing a huge explosion that caused the top of the door frame to collapse inward, separating him and Joseph.

He turned around and stared into utter darkness. He felt a chill run up his spine as the air of something foul rushed to greet him. The place before him was evil, and he knew it with every fiber of his being. He began to walk slowly, almost certainly, to his death.

After walking about in darkness for half an hour, Simon came across the wide expanse of the generator room. The walls were lined with small generators, all unmoving. In the center was a huge machine, pylons surrounding it and a large computer console at its base.

Simon stepped over to it and pulled out the electrical conduits from the computer. He withdrew the batteries from his flashlight and rigged them to power the conduit in absolute darkness.

The computer suddenly flashed on, a beam of light almost blinding him. Simon began to work diligently, typing and working with incredible speed. He adjusted the settings and tinkered with the wires, trying to set them up in such a combination that he could at least restore power to the docking bay and the sectors around it.

He worked in silence, and finally, after plugging in the wires for the ninth time, the generator began to whir softly. It picked up quickly, and suddenly many of the generators on the walls reactivated. They creaked as they sprang back into life.

Simon checked the computer monitor to see that power had been restored effectively to the docking bay and the perimeter around it, and he knew his job was accomplished. He quickly scanned the schematics to find the quickest route there, and turned around after discovering a maintenance tunnel nearby that would lead him through a number of laboratories and sleeping quarters before taking him directly to the hangar.
Simon turned to leave and abruptly stopped, his question from several hours ago now answered.

Before him were what appeared to be thousands of the contorted and deformed beasts. They all waited, unmoving, pointed rigidly in his direction. They seemed to ripple, but gave the illusion that they didn't move any other way.

And before him stood the largest one of all. A giant, hulking mass, covered in a thick, green slime that oozed down its sides. Four legs on either side gave it a spider-like appearance, tentacles floating above its head that appeared to come from just behind the front pair of legs. Its fangs were open, long and sharp, jagged teeth littering the space between them. Two dark, unseeing eyes rested in its head, staring blankly at Simon.

"Hello, my child," its voice rasped inside his mind, "No doubt you already have figured out who I am. I am the creator of these pets. Your friends and your enemies are all here. They are now unified against one common foe: You. But they do not strike unless I will it. And you are a special case. A very special case, indeed."

The monster tentacles moved outward, moving in the air lazily before Simon's face.

"You've spent so much time wondering who you are. What you've done. Where you've been. Your memory has been robbed from you, and you are tormented with horrors in sleep even more terrible than I. I can make all that go away. Imagine, knowing where you've come from. To be relieved of your suffering. Just come to me, and accept me, and all shall be revealed."

Simon shook his head, and the beast's eyes seemed to glow angrily, its tentacles waving from side to side even more.

"No," Simon managed to say from his strangled throat.

"You cannot deny what is true. I am the reason things are the way they are." It rasped, stepping towards him slowly, "Funny that you would think I am something you can see. But no, I have many forms, just like this body has many forms of its own. Decay, death, damnation: I represent them all." It seemed to laugh, and all the monsters on the walls hissed simultaneously, closing in a bit more.

"No," Simon repeated. He lifted his chin up slowly, his eyes looking above the beast, his eyes searching for something. For someone who was no longer there. He suddenly felt alone.

"You are mine. You cannot escape. Even in the end, you will succumb to me. It is inevitable. I am Death."

"No!" Simon shouted, withdrawing his knife as the tentacles gripped his face. He sliced down through the flesh of one, and the monster hissed in agony as all the others around him did so as well, cringing in pain.

Simon felt the other tentacle grab his face, and suddenly he felt a terrible ripping sensation across his face. He tried to open his eyes, but saw nothing. He heard the tentacle drop beneath him, felt the monsters pulling back in pain, and smelled the terrible slime and the scent of blood. But he could not see the monster. Could not see the floor. Could not see the darkness. He saw nothing.

Simon fled, pushing away. He sensed everything, his mind clearing. It was as if everything now seemed clearer now then when his vision was his own. He ran, stumbling about as he heard the horror follow slowly behind. The others did not move, and only stayed standing where they had been. Clearly, the monster wanted to settle this on its own.

Simon continued running, as fast as he could. Suddenly he tripped as his boots hit something fleshy. He fell over, and realized he had fallen into a pile of corpses.

No doubt mercenaries dismembered by the first of the parasites, he thought. Though he was more frightened now than ever in his life and felt as if he would die at any moment, he could not help but muse that these bodies had remained dead when the others had become monsters.

The answer to this musing came very abruptly, as his hand fell where he thought a stomach would be into the deep cavity of where the bowels should have been.

Of course, he thought, they need a food supply. He vomited as he imagined the sights around him. But as he got up, he slipped again, but this time his chin smashed against something metallic. Not like the floor, but rather something harder than that.

He put his hands around it, and realized dully what it was: A warhead. The mercenaries must have brought it on the ship with them, in case they needed it. Simon quickly understood what he had to do. He lifted it up and began to slowly drag it with him, positioning himself in the center of the room he was now standing in.

Simon waited until he heard the beast enter through the door frame. He stood, waiting. He knew it was suffering, having difficulty seeing as well. He knew that he was still on the same playing field.

"What do you think you're doing, you silly mortal? Funny that you think I am something that you can kill," the beast sneered, "For even if you destroy this body, I will return. This is only but one of my unseen hands. You will not escape me."

Simon stood in silence, ignoring its words. It continued to step closer, all the while jeering and mocking him. He shook his head, mouthing "No" over and over again.

And then, as the beast leaned over him, preparing to engulf him, Simon tilted his chin up and said, softly but clearly: "Lord protect me." His eyes could not see, but he felt something warm enclose around him, as if a hand was on his shoulder. And though he couldn't see, he knew that he wouldn't have been able to see if his eyes still had their vision.

Simon smiled, now understanding his purpose. Now understanding who he was, and what he was meant to do. Here at the end, he felt happy. Here at the end, he felt like he was intended to feel.

Simon felt a rush within him. All heat around him condensed, and suddenly collapsed inward. He felt no pain. Just joy, and then…

Nothing.

XV.

Joseph, Cain, and Takai heard the explosion as they silently in the vessel. They were waiting, hoping, praying, that Simon would at any moment appear. The electricity had been on for thirty minutes, but the beasts had stopped coming.

Joseph had miraculously survived. The creatures had all abruptly stopped and then disappeared as quickly as they had arrived. He had then made his way in complete silence to the hangar, nothing disturbing him as he went.

It was with the explosion that the three understood. Though they hadn't seen it, and could not comprehend exactly what had happened, they understood. They quickly pulled out of the hangar, none of them speaking a word.

They began to glide out into the vacuum of space as fire erupted throughout the ship. They felt the heat push them forward, a tail of fire shooting out of the docking bay doors behind them.

The vessel quickly pulled away, and the three managed to turn back to get one last glance.

They saw the UNSC Horizon, in all its glory, bathed in fire. They saw the fire erupt throughout it, and then saw it condense inwards. Joseph felt a tear run down as his cheek as the matter that was once the Horizon fly outward in a nova of glorious flame.

Joseph felt the tears begin to run and Takai and Cain stood next to him, watching in silence. He saluted in complete silence, staring off to the wreckage. The other two did the same, watching without a word spoken between them.

They knew what Simon had done. He had paid the ultimate sacrifice. And by doing so, he saved many more people than he would ever believe.

XVI.

Everything was bright. Simon felt a calm breeze against his face. He looked around, but the light was too much for him to see. He felt a lifting in his body, as if something was moving above him.

It was then that he realized he was moving slowly upward. He heard the orchestra returning, but before it climaxed it faded away... And in its place, the lazy notes of weariness returned to him, soothing his soul.

"I'm so tired... I haven't slept a wink... I'm so tired... My mind is on the brink..."

And Simon knew then, with all his heart, that he was now free. He could rest. His purpose was fulfilled. His job was done.