Chapter 3 - A Mystery
John stepped out from the cover of the palm trees, instinctively ducking as he came into the open. He crouched among the lush whip-like grass, examining the view ahead of him. He'd made his way from the Covenant camp to a small hill, a decent spot to get a feel for more of the area.
He opened the map he'd downloaded on his HUD, searching it for any nearby structures. One of the camps listed was fairly close, but neither it nor any of the vague structure-like shapes on the satellite map were visible to the naked eye.
After taking another long glance of the jungle expanse around him, the Spartan returned his focus to the closest camp listed on the map. 'Eidolon Camp'. He'd read enough maps to be good at judging distance, and he was confident in calculating the distance to this marked location, even if he couldn't read the Covenant measurement symbols. The camp location wasn't far, less than an hour walk he guessed. According to the compass it was essentially dead ahead. The Spartan unclipped the sniper scope from his belt and held it to his visor, compressing the view deep into the distance. The scope focused in on the horizon, and John steadily panned in search of any clues on the camp's whereabouts. Nothing was visible. No more vapour trails like before, not even any breaks in the tropical forest.
He removed the scope from his visor with a quiet sigh, slowly standing and returning to the cover of the trees. Time to move on to Eidolon Camp. He could already tell this was going to be a repetitive assignment. But patience was something John wasn't short of. Retreating deeper into the forest, the soldier began his descent.
Large Spartan boots tread carefully behind the shrubbery as John spied in from the fringes of a clearing. It wasn't as large as the clearing he'd previously investigated, and there was a strange quietness about it. Another one of the small Covenant buildings was positioned in the centre, and beside it was a tall comm node.
He opened up his map to confirm his whereabouts. He'd reached Eidolon Camp. Closing the map and returning focus to the clearing, John spied the area for a few moments, unable to see a single guard on patrol. It was peculiar, but probably meant the guards were inside. Perhaps they'd discovered his exploits at the last camp and were expecting him. Not that it mattered, he would take the situation however it presented itself to him.
Master Chief slowly entered the clearing, his torso rigid as he panned his rifle along the jungle.
There was still no enemy resistance, even as he made himself obviously visible. He continued to tread closer to the building. He stopped dead in front of the door, a deep pulsating hum washing over him from the comm node. The lights on the door were an electric white colour. It was unlocked.
John frowned from under his visor. This wasn't typical of the Covenant, he was surprised that they'd leave a place of importance unlocked and unguarded. But as he'd thought before, perhaps they were expecting him. Perhaps this was a trap. The thought of it sent a shiver up his spine and kicked a flow of adrenaline into his bloodstream. He tightened his grip on his rifle and took another step toward the door.
His boot broke the door's invisible motion barrier, and it automatically slid open. As the dark room within presented itself, John darted in with his finger itching to squeeze the trigger.
But his boot connected with a heavy object as he entered. He tripped and his body was sent to the floor. He accidentally fired a round as he fell, the bullet ricocheting loudly into a wall.
His body landed with with an ungodly metallic clang. He was taken by surprise and angered by his clumsy mistake, but he didn't spare a second in rolling onto his back and pushing off his elbow into a crouched position, rifle aimed at shoulder level.
There was no one. The room was empty.
The man backed up against the wall, his jaw tensed as his eyes darted around the room. His vision gradually became accustomed to the low light, and when it did, he noticed a substance messily smeared up one of the walls. He focused on it with a frown. It was a dark red liquid. He instantly recognised it.
He shot to his feet as a cold sweat formed on his brow.
Brute blood. Sprayed up the wall with serious force.
Then he noticed the object he'd tripped over. A thick shape stuck out from the shadow in front of the door. A Brute's arm.
John glanced in the direction of the arm's source, flinching a little when he found it. It wasn't alone. There were a pile of dead bodies. Mostly Grunt corpses, but a couple of Brutes also lay dead, crammed into a dark corner of the room, a vile cocktail of alien blood puddled beneath them.
"Jesus..." John muttered quietly to himself. Dead Covenant was a sight he was used to, but perhaps it disturbed him seeing such an atrocious sight when he was third party to it. He'd had no part in their death. But this raised the question, what had killed them?
Dark lines and craters where just visible in the low light, scarring several of the walls. John stepped up to the wall in front of him, gently running a hand along one of the thick black lines. The wall was recessed as if it had been melted. They were Plasma burns. This just made the situation even more mysterious. Was this the result of friendly fire? Perhaps this camp had disobeyed orders and this was the scene of an execution.
John decided to push aside his curiosity and focused his attention back on the mission. He turned to the holographic terminals near the far wall, reaching out a hand to the alien console. Blue light and Covenant symbols popped up on his HUD, but no download started. He frowned and removed his hand, then returned it to the console to restart the download process. Once again it stopped prematurely.
That could only mean the console was completely empty of information. That didn't make much sense. John exhaled in irritation and moved his hand around the console, pressing random symbols, but nothing could be found. The terminal was bare.
Before the soldier had a chance to curse, a ghostly wailing sound echoed into the room from the jungle outside.
The Spartan quickly looked over his shoulder. He approached the front door, keeping his bulk within the shadowy room as he peered out.
The strange wail was heard again, closer this time. The noise quickly escalated in pitch and volume, when a large crimson shape eerily slid past the clearing from within the jungle, sunlight fragmenting off its smooth body.
A Covenant Spectre.
The Chief's heart rate accelerated as he watched the alien vehicle pass. First he thought it'd come come for him, but it passed by without hesitation, its destination obviously elsewhere.
This was perfect. The Spectre would likely be travelling to a point of interest, perhaps one of the locations that wasn't listed on the map. Following it could make this mission a whole lot easier for him.
He spared no more time to think, and began a brisk jog from the doorway and into the thick jungle brush. There was no sign of the vehicle ahead, but a long trail of plant debris snaked through the jungle in its wake. John followed after the trail with his rifle tight in hand, regulating his breaths in between every footstep. He could still hear the Spectre ahead.
He chose to lag behind and out of sight. He didn't want to be seen and have to dispose of the Brutes on board. For now he only wanted to follow them.
Once again it seemed his undeniable luck had pulled through.
John had continued shadowing the Spectre for the best part of half an hour. For the past few minutes he'd lost its signature wail, assuming it had come to halt. He decided to push on at a slower pace and carefully changed his direction of approach, cautious that the Brutes may have exited the vehicle. He didn't want to run straight into them.
He stalked his way through a patch of towering grass, continuing to regulate his breaths carefully as his eyes darted between the tall plants, searching for any sign of the Spectre or its passengers. The grass lapped gently over his armour as he moved onward with his weapon at shoulder level.
The Spartan reached the edge of the tall grass, and he peered out from between the leafy confines.
A circular pit of clean tan sand was about ten feet ahead. It looked strangely out of place.
The Spectre's trail was also visible ahead. It snaked from the jungle and traveled onto the sand. But, curiously, its path seemed to end in the centre of the pit.
Chief examined the sand pit, glancing around a little to make sure he was alone, before stepping out into the open.
He followed the Spectre's trail with his eyes as it traveled in from the opposite side of the pit and stopped dead in the centre. The sand in the centre was disturbed and brushed away, revealing an entirely different substance underneath. Silver metal.
John cautiously stepped onto the sand, his boot sinking a few centimeters. His applied some weight to his leg, making sure it was stable, before advancing to the shallow centre. His boots clicked on metal as he walked atop the trail's final destination. He kicked away some sand, revealing more metal underneath. It was patterned with small symbols of Forerunner design. He scratched at the sand some more with his boot, before lifting his leg and stomping onto the metal. A dull clang was heard, but there was no echo. It was dead solid.
The Spartan sighed in frustration. Looked like his luck had run out as quickly as it'd appeared.
But he was thrown from his thoughts as the ground beneath him began to vibrate, a deep hum emanating from the metal. He looked down at his feet and retreated from the sand pit, aiming his weapon solidly.
Without warning the metal floor began to rise upward in smooth motion. Hot air swept over Chief as he watched the ground elevate. Three angled arms unfolded from the ground to support a center plate, and what was once beneath the sand was now the height of the trees.
Before long the vibrations stopped and the structure came to a resting position.
John slowly examined the erect formation.
The metal plate from the center of the pit now stood high above his head, held up by three pillars that plugged into the edges of the pit. The soft sand was gone, and the entire pit was replaced with the forerunner structure.
John cautiously approached it to garner a better look.
The metal floor beneath the elevated panel was separated into four quarters, and a ring of red light glared angrily from the middle. The red light caught the attention of the Chief. Something about it seemed familiar. Metal panels, closed and centered by a red light...
It soon clicked in his mind. It was a Forerunner door.
He stepped back to get a wider perspective. He was certain it was a door in the ground. A concealed entrance to an underground structure? That would explain where the Spectre had gone.
He walked backwards off the metal and returned to the edges of the long grass, pulling a Frag Grenade off his belt and ripping out the pin, tossing at the trapdoor. It landed on the metal and bounced, skimming across with a succession of metallic clangs. It exploded dead in the centre, spraying sand in all directions, shrapnel and stones raining down on the surrounding jungle. The Spartan waited until the cloud cleared.
The locked trapdoor was completely unscathed.
"Fuck it." John cursed quietly, clicking his neck from side to side. He should've guessed a single grenade wouldn't be enough to tear through Forerunner metal. Still, even if he couldn't his way in just yet, the grenade could attract the attention of Covenant inside. If a team came up to investigate he'd have his ticket in.
John stepped back into the cover of the long grass, nestling himself within its tongue-like leaves. He'd just have to wait. Sooner or later something would have to come out or go in.
Patience was a virtue, and something John was thankful he possessed.
