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0112 HOURS, SEPTEMBER 4, 2552 (MILITARY CALENDAR) УРАН, EPSILON BOÖTIS SYSTEM (Uranium Plant 0A31)

The plasma repeaters roared as Julian threw the civilian and dived into the opposite direction. A ball of plasma ripped through Julian's shoulder plating. The spartan quickly regained his footing and jumped onto the bulky face of the banshee aircraft. Just as he did the fuel rod cannon coughed up a green bomb that detonated where Julian had just been standing. The explosion threw Julian, and he slammed into the banshee. The impact knocked the wind from his chest, but he kept moving. As he climbed up the head of the aircraft, blue clumps of plasma soared past his head. A mass of the plasma struck his head. The Spartan recoiled, falling from the top of the banshee. His helmet sizzled and melted, his shields having been knocked out from the banshee's fuel rod cannon. Julian tossed his helmet to the side and looked to his right. An elite sprinted through the doorway, alongside a jackal ranger. This was a real problem.

Julian snatched his MA3 from his back and opened fire on the elite who had shot him. The alien's shield flared up, and the banshee opened fire again. Two plasma rounds smashed into him, and his shield dropped. As he backed away, the jackal ranger fired a carbine round into Julian's leg. The Spartan slipped and fell onto his back. As he tried to get up, the banshee fired another stream of plasma. The plasma laddered up his body, hitting his legs, his chest, and his neck. The last round came inches from his head. Julian coughed and let his head fall to the floor. He had to think. He was injured bad, and he couldn't radio for help. But before he thought up a plan, the elite gave him one.

The alien marched up to Julian and wrapped its four fingers around his throat. Its grip tightened, and it lifted him from the ground. The alien stood at an insane eight feet tall, enough to bring Julian's feet off the ground.

"Human. We know what your demon allies have found." The elite loosens its grip slightly and stares intently into Julian's eyes. "I can ensure that your death is one with honour, if only you shed light on the location of what we hunt."

"Come closer. I'll shed all the light you want." Julian mocked, but surprisingly, the elite complied, inching its face closer to the Spartan's.

Julian parted his lips slightly, letting the tensity in the elite's eyes build. Before the hulking alien could react, Julian shoved his boot into the elite's gut. The alien bellowed, and Julian fell to the ground. He elbowed the elite's shoulder and yanked at its wrist. The energy sword it wielded clattered to the floor, the plasma blade vanishing as the metal hilt settled. The elite quickly stood up, firing plasma at Julian. Thanks to the dialogue, his shield had partially recharged, taking the shots without any injury to Julian.

The Spartan sprinted towards the elite, scooping up the hilt from the ground and activating it. He thrust the blade into the elite's abdomen, the alien's eyes widening in shock. The banshee tilted towards Julian, ready to fire. The Spartan quickly yanked the plasma rifle from the elite's hand and jumped back as the banshee opened fire. A hail of plasma punched the elite's shoulders and face, melting all organic material as the creature collapsed into a heap. The jackal hissed and lifted up its carbine, but Julian had already put several plasma charges into the air, which quickly jumped to the jackal's chest and knocked the alien down. Then the banshee began to move. The room was not very big, and definitely not maneuverable for a banshee. It enabled its thrusters and charged Julian at ramming speed. The Spartan leaned forward in an attempt to run, but the aircraft caught him and crushed him against a wall. Julian grunted, twisting his arm free from between himself and the banshee. Blood poured from cracks in his Titanium A armour, and alerts screamed from his helmet that lay on the ground nearby.

Julian grunted, he could barely get a breath. Something had ripped open a lung, and he was losing air. The Spartan used everything in his power to tug his arm free. Something snapped inside the limb, but he was in too much pain everywhere else to even notice. The banshee had him pinned between its guns and the wall. So when Julian felt a heat building up against the left side of his chest, he knew what was coming. Julian screamed as loud as he could, all the pain in his body building up strength in his soul. A boost of adrenaline hit him like a tidal wave. This whole situation pissed Julian off. He looked right at the banshee and yelled at it. Julian was going to kill the sonofabitch alien inside, even if it literally killed him too.

Julian slammed his open palm against the nose of the banshee, wrapping his fingers around the edges of the hatch. With all of his might, he pulled. He felt the plasma discharge of the banshee's guns, but he didn't stop. His shield was dropping fast, but he continued to pull. He heard the wrenching of metal, something smashed inside the banshee, and before he knew it, the hatch put up less and less of a fight. Julian screamed at the top of his lungs one last time, using every last bit of breath he had, and ripped the hatch clean off of the top of the banshee. The guns stopped firing just as his shield had reached its final bit of charge. The banshee's engine died, and the hovering aircraft slammed to the floor. The elite inside, noticing the sudden flare of light in its cockpit, looked up to face Julian. It stared in fear for a few seconds, before jolting up and reaching for the plasma rifle in its holster. Julian was faster.

Julian pushed the metal hunk that once was the banshee, the metal screeching and shuddering. As soon as there was enough room between him and the banshee, Julian collapsed to the floor. Julian coughed up blood, something he hadn't done in a while. He pushed against the floor, trying to lift his body up. All his energy was completely gone. Julian was sure that he might not survive. It wasn't long before he saw spilling blood pool up and race around his shoulder. Julian inhaled, realizing that he couldn't breathe at all. His chest burned, and it almost felt like he was exhaling as he inhaled, the oxygen leaving as soon as it came in. He could breathe, but not nearly as much as he'd like to right now. Julian couldn't radio Tuskan unless he could get to his helmet. The covenant patrol had been dealt with, but there were definitely more coming. Julian had to be in fighting condition, and he needed Tuskan's help. Julian reached his left arm out and grabbed the floor. He pulled, dragging his body across the floor, leaving a thick trail of blood behind him. His left hand touched his chest, and he reached out with his right hand, again grabbing the floor and pulling with all of his strength. Before he even got halfway, Julian collapsed flat against the floor again.

Julian wasn't able to take in any more air. No matter how sharp his intakes were, it seemed as if no air was coming in. Julian began to choke, coughing and gagging for any air he could get. He grabbed his throat, his vision becoming blurry. Julian began to shake, his body seeming to shut down. The metal interior began to fade away, the dark light brightening. Julian closed his eyes for only a moment, and when he opened them he was in a field of tall blue grass. He looked up to see the familiar bright warmth of 23 Librae. He saw his farm on Madrigal in the distance. The spartan stood up, no longer clad in Titanium A, or broken and bleeding. Julian sniffed the air, filling his lungs, before beginning his long walk to the structure. The structure that was his home.

Kane opened his eyes, blinking at the sudden intake of light that the skylights sent his way. The skylights… Kane shot up, his senses all activating at once. The familiar smell of the Uranium plant filled his nostrils, and the deafening sound of alarms screeching overloaded his eardrums. He blinked again as his head began to ache. He grunted and rubbed his temples.

Why was he back inside the facility? Why the mess hall? Kane glanced about, his eyes adjusting to the lighting. He noticed everything right away. A jackal sat against a wall, its arms sprawled out and its chest still smoking from the black spots on its armour. An elite was curled into a pile of armour and leathery flesh, its cold dead arms still gripping its abdomen where a blade of energy protruded out. Then there was the alien aircraft, its hatch ripped off and its pilot blanketed in melting armour. It sizzled still, having been blasted numerous times with an energy weapon, to the point where the alien's armour color was unknown. And in the middle of it all was a spartan lying in his own pool of blood, unmoving.

Kane stared in awe, his jaw had actually dropped. He closed it and stood up slowly. The stench of burning alien flesh was slightly un-bearable. But Kane needed to help this Spartan, and fast. The blood was still pooling up, growing larger. If he still had blood to bleed, he wasn't completely gone yet. Kane walked over to the Spartan and kneeled down. The Spartan had left a trail of blood, meaning he had been moving. Kane evaluated his path, and eventually came to the conclusion that the Spartan was trying to get his helmet. Kane stood back up and walked over to the helmet before picking it up. The visor had melted once it had been struck with plasma, but only slightly. The burn had cooled now, and it should be safe to put on. Kane slid the helmet onto the Spartan. The helmet hissed before clicking on. The blaring alerts silenced as the helmet sealed. Kane saw the Spartan's back rise and fall softly, and he let out a breath of relief. The Spartan was still alive, but in his condition, Kane didn't know for how long. There were other Spartans, he remembered. Maybe one of them could help. The only problem was that Kane had no idea where they were. It looked like they had been split up once the Covenant had arrived. This one must have grabbed Kane in an attempt to bring him to safety. Kane might only be alive thanks to this man. He had to get to work. The sooner he could contact the other Spartans, the sooner he could get help. If he knew what he was doing, he might be able to interface his radio with the Spartan's HUD and contact the others. Kane lifted the Spartan slightly and checked his armour tag. K590. That was as close as he was going to get for a name for now. This K590 might not be too happy about Kane's work, but he was saving the man's life. It was a small price to pay.

Kane was sure that what he was about to do was very illegal, but he was out of options. Kane rolled K590's face over and observed the back of the helmet. He had seen Spartans connect Artificial Intelligences to the rear port of their helmet, and that AI was in turn able to access all of the armour's diagnostics and statistics. If Kane could do the same without completely destroying the port, he could easily access the Spartan's HUD. Kane slid his radio from his toolbelt and began work on the port.

Yonalli cleared his throat and slowly walked forward. The atmosphere was eerie. Not a sound broke the silence that filled the corridor. When Yonalli approached the door, it slid up, revealing a large room, dimly lit by blue-steel lights. In the center of the large room was a set of stairs that led to a tall pedestal, a hole in the ceiling allowed natural light to poor through and illuminate an alien control panel. The room was extremely large, yet completely empty other than the pedestal. Corners of the room were unlit, and Yonalli could swear he saw shifts in movement just beyond his view. This room was completely untouched by the parasitic biomass, however, and remained in top condition. Not a speck of dust could be seen, as if something was taking great care of the room. Yonalli approached the stairs, glancing about as he did. Hagan followed close behind, his rifle raised and ready to engage in short notice. Yonalli held up his hand and walked up the stairs alone.

Yonalli glanced up to where the light was pouring in. A glass ceiling looked out above ground, though the view was covered by a blanket of snow, sunlight pouring through. Yonalli glanced back at Hagan and nodded. The Spartan quickly made his way up the stairs after Yonalli. The two approached the hovering holographic console. It glowed an aura similar in color to the corridor lights. Symbols panned across the console, disappearing when they reached an edge that could not be seen. One symbol in particular was circular in shape, which hovered above another circle. The two symbols had jagged edges that allowed them to fit together like puzzle pieces if puzzle pieces went on top each other rather than next to. Every few seconds, the top circle would rise, disconnecting from the bottom circle, and spin before lowering itself and connecting again. It was a large symbol, and it was the first thing Yonalli pressed. As soon as he did, the floating console vanished, and the platform shifted. Yonalli glanced to Hagan as the inhuman screeches of the brown monsters filled the entire room.

"Yonalli? What did you do?" Hagan asked, turning around to face the dimly lit corners of the room and raising his rifle.

"I… I don't know… It was odd. I felt attracted to it. Like I was supposed to push it… Like I had to push it." Yonalli mumbled, looking at where the console once was.

"Yonalli, get your rifle ready! Our friends are back." Hagan shouted. Yonalli quickly glanced up. His eyes widened under his helmet. A crowd of biomass crawled from the shadows, the mechanical crash of a ventilation grate colliding with the alien floor.

The platform the two Spartans stood on began to fall. It fell even lower than the pedestal, and seemed to keep going. The platform began to gain speed, getting faster and faster as the creatures were quickly erased from Yonalli's vision by the floor which seemed to rise around him. Yonalli looked up to see the monsters peeking over the edge, one actually tipping over and falling down the elevator shaft. It landed with a meaty slam on the surface of the massive elevator between Hagan and Yonalli. Hagan put a burst of 7.62mm rounds into its chest to keep it from rising again.

The elevator seemed to fall endlessly through the shaft, all light dispersing from the vicinity. Soon the top entrance became a distant spec above the two Spartans. Just as Yonalli feared they would be doomed to an eternal drop, the shaft opened. What they saw shook the two Spartans to the core. The room yearned an empty ambient sigh, infecting the ears of the Spartans as they stared agape at the seemingly endless chasm. The room stretched so far that it had its own horizon, the room dropping for several miles below the catwalk where the elevator stopped. The scale of the room took Yonalli's attention away from the fact that the elevator had basically hovered unsuspended for a short time before reaching the catwalk. Yonalli looked around for some kind of support but thankfully saw that the catwalk had bars holding it to the ceiling of the room. Their were no side guards on the catwalk, and the path was slim, so the Spartans would have to be careful not to fall.

"Okay. So. A lot to take in right now…" Yonalli mumbled.

"Keep your head on straight. We need to find a way back to the surface. Going back up the elevator would take us straight back to those monsters, and they will eventually find a way down here. For now, we search." Hagan ordered, his tone clean an nonchalant, as if the alien environment failed to phase him at all. Yonalli knew inside the noncom was curious as well, but Hagan had been raised as their leader, so he had to keep himself together when everyone else was falling apart.

Yonalli stepped forward first. The catwalk shuddered as the Spartan's weight greeted the lonely catwalk for the first time in its existence. The Spartans weighed a ton each, making Yonalli un-sure that their weight could even be held by the dusty shuddering catwalk. Either he keeps moving and the catwalk breaks, or he goes back up to die fighting endless hordes of unidentified monsters. Yonalli walked slowly at first, shifting his MA3 against his chest and inhaling sharply as the catwalk shouted at him in defiance of his mass. Yonalli cracked his neck and marched along the path, feeling the catwalk move slightly as Hagan stepped on behind him. Yonalli hadn't been paying much attention to the path in front of him, as his eyes were stuck to the supports holding the catwalk up.

"Console ahead. Same appearance as the one that started the elevator. Could be a way out." Hagan whispered, causing Yonalli to jump very slightly. The catwalk wined in response, and Yonalli cringed.

The noncoms approached the console and Yonalli simply did as he had done before. His instincts simply guided his hand, and he pressed a large yellow trapezoidal shaped button with mysterious engravings in the light that made the figure. The button lowered, and the whole console folded in on itself before vanishing. The blue aura blinked out of existence, quickly replaced by a larger blue screen that hovered suspended in the air in front of them. An odd metal figure rose from under the catwalk. It hovered quietly in front of the two Spartans, a blue light in its center which was caressed by two limbs that outstretched the Spartans. The organism was completely mechanical, a large body taking up most of its form, but was blanketed in fins, seemingly for aerodynamics. Hagan lifted up his MA3 as the blue light from the organism seemed to scan the noncoms, running up and down their silhouettes.

"Hagan, wait! Don't shoot…" Yonalli whispered.

"Why? Another one of your instincts?" Hagan emphasized the word, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"They seem to be getting us somewhere, so I'd trust them." Yonalli answered, his eyes remaining on the alien craft. That's when the odd figure spoke. In English.

"Directorate 133 identifies organisms; Forerunner Identification; Reclaimers; Human." The figure speaks a monotone hum. The voice was non-organic and fake. But how did it know English?

"Accessing ship log database; Cargo craft removed; HR 6426Cc storage recorded; 42 craft stored; All flood samples secured on HIP 72105; Recorded on 97430 BCE."

"Flood samples? What does it mean, flood?" Hagan asks Yonalli, glancing back at the alien machine.

"I don't-" Yonalli begins to speak but is cut off by the monotone voice once more.

"Data storage contains records; File Halo Array; Subfolder Containment; Recording as follows; On the chance of outbreak on flood storage facilities, all instances of un-affected samples must be gathered and or destroyed. Standard lockdown and quarantine procedures of flood parasite material must ensue. All personnel to have come in direct contact with airborne spores or infection forms without proper battle skin must be quarantined until further notice, or terminated under extreme emergency; End record." The tin voice ceased as what the machine had said hung in the atmosphere.

Only a moment after did the machine once again break the silence. The light on the face of the floating identity that had scanned the noncoms blasted to life again, projecting a pane of blue light in front of the spartans. On the pane, orange paths streaked across, several points of the path marked with alien symbols that sizzled and faded before returning in phoenician letters. At the top the pane read 'Recorded Cargo Trip of Flood Samples'. Two points marked HR 6426Cc and HIP 72105.

"The things you see serving the mean green UNSC." Hagan mumbled.

Yonalli was about to speak when he heard plasma fire echoing down the elevator shaft. The Covenant had made it inside.

"They made it past Julian and Tuskan. We need to hurry. If we don't get outta here soon, we'll be swarmed." Yonalli rushed as he turned to Hagan.

"The Covenant know we're here, and they know how many of us there are. It's safe to assume any cover we had has been lost. I'll radio Ode to Joy." Hagan nodded to Yonalli. "Use your instincts and find us a way out of here."

A sudden static erupted from Yonalli's COMs. It came onto the group channel, and Yonalli confirmed this when Hagan looked to him. They both listened closely. A group broadcast only meant an emergency.

"This is Kane Josemari. Facility tag 032902. I'm coming in on the COMs of Spartan K590. K590 was engaged by covenant forces while I was unconscious and has been gravely wounded. Any allies in the immediate vicinity are asked for assistance. I don't know how long this Spartan has left." An unfamiliar voice came through, calm, but with a slight sense of urgency. Hagan looked at Yonalli, and Yonalli nodded.

"Understood Josemari. We were just about to head your way. Keep COMs silent from now on and don't send any other information regarding your location. We'll be there soon." Hagan responded in a monotone voice, while still conveying sureness and hope.

"How did he get into Julian's COM systems?" Yonalli asked Hagan, truly dumbfounded at the technical skill required to do such a thing.

"I don't have a clue. But what he did could have just saved Julian, and I respect that more than anything. We need to hurry."

The two Spartans sprinted towards the elevator as Yonalli pressed the return panel, causing the elevator to shift and rise. When he looked up, Yonalli could see several flashes of blue cross the gap above the elevator shaft. One of the flood creatures soared over the gap towards the direction of the fired plasma rounds.

"I guess our friends have met." Yonalli quipped, listening intensely on the battle that raged above him.

"It's gonna be a mess of combat up there. Just make sure to pick your targets carefully. When your mag is empty you'll have both sides trying to kill you as well as each other at the same time, so make your rounds count." Hagan shouted over the sound of plasma fire, screeching, footsteps, plasma explosions, and alien language. The two noncoms had a good guess about what was waiting for them at the top of the shaft, but neither of them knew how to prepare for the hell they were about to endure.