Halo: Floodworld
Summary: Post Halo 3. John had a secret that no one else knew, a secret that could mark him for treason. This very secret has been found by the crew of the Spirit of Fire, and is their only hope of stopping the threat of the Dissenters, and getting home alive.
Disclaimer: I don't own Halo.
To all those who have both DeviantArt and Fanfiction accounts, I was thinking of inviting others to help me with this and make it a larger project. Contact me either through DA or PM me if you want to join me in working on Floodworld.
Mission 1: Forward Unto Dawn: Seeing is Believing
I smell little more than the stench of death and decay, repulsive enough to make bile rise to my throat. My head is pounding, whispers and echoes running through the back of my mind like stray thoughts, beating the inside of my skull to a blood soaked mess. I can feel blood dripping out my ears, see it trickling from my eyes like tears betraying my pain, smell it running out my nose like a fountain of grief, and rising from my throat, threatening to get sucked down into my lungs and kill me slowly.
And yet I am fine.
My arms have been broken and sheared off, as have my legs. My skull has been shattered, my lungs have been crushed, and my heart has been ripped out and devoured.
And yet I stand without a scratch on me.
I am standing in the middle of dead and dying corpses, and I feel their pain as if it were my own. As each one succumbs to the darkness, agony burns through me until they pass on the the void beyond my sight.
The stench I smell is my own.
-Excerpt from "The Madness of Assimilation", a series of entries recovered from the Log of Sierra 821 Sara.
"Captain, wake up. Something has happened."
Captain Cutter of the Spirit of Fire woke up slowly. Every bone in his body ached slightly, and he felt, well, old. "Serina, how long has it been?" he asked.
"I only just woke up myself," the ship's AI answered. "By my calculations, it seems to have been around 20 years. Professor Anders' idea to 'put me to sleep' seems to have worked exceptionally. We should have it become standard for all UNSC AI's, as it would greatly perfect performance. I think sleeping for twenty years may end up expanding my lifetime. I feel like I could store a thousand worlds worth of information with ease. Is this how you usually feel when you wake up?"
"Rarely nowadays," Cutter muttered, stretching out. "I got old."
"Rough tough, and still made of steel, relatively speaking," Serina seemed to laugh. "At least you didn't age as fast in the cryostat unit." She paused for a moment. "I think my sense of humor has changed."
"I'll take your word for it, now why did you wake me?" Cutter asked, massaging his temples as he made his way to the observation deck and sat down in his chair.
Serina appeared next to him on the small holotable. "Straight to business, yes, sir," she teased in her usual tone. "A slipspace rupture occurred nearly 25,000 kilometers off of our course 30 minutes ago. The monitoring programs Professor Anders set up didn't wake me until 10 minutes later, when what seems to be a UNSC distress signal began beaming from an object at the location of the rupture. I've slowed the Spirit's course and woke you as soon as I was reactivated."
"Can you identify the source?"
"At this range, no."
Cutter thought only for a moment before coming to a decision, "Change our course. We should check this out. Wake up all necessary personnel, including Anders and Red Team. We'll need them for this."
"Aye, sir," Serina smiled. The Spirit shook slightly as maneuvering thrusters engaged. "You do realize she's likely to take over your observation deck again, right?"
"Do I have a choice?" Cutter asked back before standing and heading for the door. He needed some coffee.
Sierra 092 Jerome stared at the figure in shock. Since the Sprint perused the Covenant to the far reaches of space, he thought he would never see the person in front of him ever again. And yet here he was, a little groggy, and perhaps a bit confused. But those things would no doubt pass. They could never hold him down
"Sir, SPARTIN 029 reporting!" he said coming to attention and saluting, not an easy thing to do while floating in zero gravity.
"At ease, Jerome," John said, rolling his shoulders. Whether he liked it or not, he was tired. He had been looking forward to getting some decent sleep before being rescued. A hour only amounted to a cat nap compared to what he knew he would eventually need. "Who else is here with you?"
"The rest of Red Team, Alice and Douglas, and the crew of the Spirit of Fire under Captain Cutter, sir," Jerome answered. "Permission to speak freely?"
John raised an eyebrow, unseen inside his helmet, "Granted." Jerome grabbed him in a bear hug that would have cracked his reinforced ribs were it not for his armor.
"Welcome back, John! It's good to see you again, old friend!"
Once Jerome had let him go, John chuckled, "Perhaps Cortana and I should be welcoming you back. You've been out of the loop for years."
"Chief, we have a problem," Cortana interrupted. "I tried contacting the Spirit of Fire and was cut off. Three ships have just dropped out of slipspace, all of them old UNSC frigates, and I don't think their friendly."
Jerome tapped his comm unit, "Sierra 029 to Captain Cutter, respond." Static. "Spirit of Fire, this is Sierra 029. Respond!"
"Cortana?" John asked.
"What few sensors are still active on this thing are showing that the Spirit is under fire by the unmarked frigates. One of them is emitting a disruption signal to block communications. Pelicans have launched and are preparing to board, most of them near Engineering where the Spirit's salvage team was working on removing our intact Slipspace Drive," she answered.
"Warn them," John said. "We're heading their direction."
Cortana's hologram flickered for a moment, and then she nodded, "Done. Yank me." John pulled her from the terminal and slipped her into the back of his helmet. He then turned and pulled his assault rifle off the wall, growling in annoyance when he realized it only had three rounds left. Cortana noticed as well, and couldn't help but voice the very thought that John had in his mind. "Why is it always three?"
"Clip?" John asked, holding out a hand out toward Jerome. The other Spartan rolled his eyes, fishing a clip off of his belt and handing it to the Chief. John slapped the clip into place with a satisfying click just before an explosive blew open the nearby door.
Two EVA Troopers with strange markings on their suits instantly opened fire on the two Spartans inside. Explosive rounds pinged off their shields, nearly draining them before they could return fire. Their human enemies were wearing what were dubbed 'Flash Suits' by the UNSC. While they were excellent for maneuvering in space combat, their speed and agility sacrificed the standard grade armor that most marines wore. As a result both were easily downed almost faster than a high ranking Grunt. Putting his rifle on his back, John reached out and retrieved one of the weapons the EVA Troops were using. It wasn't standard UNSC make.
Jerome whistled at the sight of it. "Hey, Chief! Is that what I think it is?"
"It is," Cortana answered for him. "Modified SMG with a silencer, sniper scope, and a miniature version of a MAC coil in the chamber for greater range, accuracy, and power. It's also modified to fire 50 mm explosive rounds. Class A contraband weaponry. These guys are probably the same Insurrectionists that the Spartan Program was created to combat in the first place before the Covenant attacked Harvest."
"We'll need their weapons for study and use, Jerome," John said. "Grab what you can. Cortana, can the Salvage Team get out?"
"Negative, Chief," Jerome cut in as he pulled clips of the dead bodies. "Without your Slipspace Drive, the Spirit is dead in the water."
"Still no contact with the Spirit?" John asked.
"No, Chief," Cortana answered this time. "The disruption signal is too strong. Not even the Salvage Team can hear us unless we use the Dawn's internal comm."
The Master Chief ground his teeth in frustration, "Can you still control what's left of the Dawn?"
"Sure can, so long as we're within 10 meters of a terminal, but all we have is a few sensors, doors, and cryo tubes."
"Good enough," John nodded. "Let's go save the Salvage Team."