((AN: So as you might have noticed, I skipped over the library. It was partially my eagerness to see the end of this story, but I also wasn't sure that I'd be able to make it entertaining enough. Keeping it vague will let me allude to incidents (if I ever actually make use of that) and leaves some mystery in, though less so for any who have actually played the game))
Three magazines of assault rifle ammo left, he counted. Wait, no, he had fired off roughly half a magazine in the last engagement. The Spartan's black armor was no longer so pristine, spots of sickly olive-green ichor splattered on it in a twisted sort of mockery of a camouflage pattern where hostiles…this 'flood' that was sweeping across the ring, had gotten too close. Roaven was tired, even the adrenaline failing to keep him from being acutely aware of the aches in his muscles as he glanced at the digital ammunition counter atop his firearm. Thirty-seven rounds, plus the 120 that he had in reserve, and whatever pitiful charge was left in the plasma pistol he had liberated from the fallen. Hardly enough to take on an armada, or perhaps even a full squad of opponents, unless every shot was made to count. He could hope that they had been through the worst already, but that had yet to be seen.
The other two Spartans with him weren't faring much better than he was, at least as far as equipment was concerned. It was difficult for him to determine how much the length of the operation was weighing on them, and he had little interest in asking, which he suspected would only make matters worse. Ariel had pooled their sidearm ammunition, plus whatever extra they had scavenged along the way, and was making use of the integrated scope to serve as their marksman, of sorts. Max had a shotgun, and was responsible for eliminating many of the opponents that had ended up splattered onto Roaven's armor. He also had their grenades, since he seemed to have either the best luck with them, or simply the best throwing arm.
"…possible vector for the infection. Is something wrong?" Max was also the one currently engaging the floating monitor of the installation in conversation, though perhaps it was too generous a term for the largely one-sided discussion that was going on, as 343 Guilty Spark, who had initially abducted them onto this errand, explained the details of the Flood. Max had come up short, staring down the length of the all-too-familiar glass walkway the three of them stood on, which lead to the control panel of the control room of Halo. They had stood here, together, not that long ago, and to the best of their collective knowledge, the AI they had left behind still resided within the cavernous room.
Their errand had become a slog through several levels of a sprawling facility known as 'The Library', a containment facility in which to study the Flood that had long since been overrun with the creatures. Detours, delays, and firefights had been much of their experience within, punctuated by the eternally condescending voice of the Monitor chiding them for their ineffective combat suits and excusing away his sudden departures. That many of the Flood carried weaponry taken from their hosts was the only reason the group had stayed supplied for the duration of the trek, though every magazine and human weapon recovered functioned as a memorial to a fallen soldier, not that they could afford to dwell on such matters.
The least pleasant surprise within had been the existence of a third Flood form, beyond the skittering infection forms and the bipedal, frequently armed combat forms. This 'carrier form' was a bulbous, waddling creature that seemed to serve a singular purpose in combat of bursting, which was alarming capable of damaging the shields of their armor, and releasing a deluge of infection forms to attack. Eventually, they had triumphed, however, making their way to the core of the facility and recovering the index, a small, t-shaped object with a metal crossbar, supposedly the key to operating Halo. It had almost immediately been confiscated by 343 Guilty Spark for safe transport, however, supposedly for fear of any of them becoming infected. While there had been some close calls, their armor had done a suitable job of protecting them from any such fate.
Now, they were back in the control room, to activate the ring and stop the spread of the infestation from spreading any further, thanks to the Monitor's teleportation technology. It was somewhat less disorienting the second time, fortunately for the three Spartans, and since they had cleared it out, the control Room, while bearing evidence of battle, was clear of any living threats.
"No, nothing." Max assured 343, shaking his head and resuming his approach towards the control panel. Roaven had no choice but to take him at his word, as given his other capabilities, there was no reason not to suspect that the Monitor was plenty capable of listening in to their secure channels. Max did turn to look over at him as they made their approach, however, jerking his head towards the control panel. Despite the fact that he had been the one who had spoken the most with the monitor, he seemed to have no problem allowing Roaven to handle the activation of the installation. Ariel, in the meanwhile, had already busied herself in checking the bodies spread out along the walkway, where it split into a large circle that went much of the length of the room. They were covenant, largely, and none of them responded to a nudge or kick, which meant they were either very convincing actors, or that all life had already bled from them.
"My usefulness has come to an end in this particular endeavor. The next step is reserved for you, reclaimer." Well, there was the answer to why any of them were necessary, beyond the fact that they collectively carried far more firepower than the sentinel units, which seemed to be insufficient for the task of containment. Taking the index in hand, Roaven hesitated only long enough to look it over before inserting it into the control panel, in the one spot that seemed like it capable of accepting it. It seemed to be the correct approach, at any rate, the panel lighting up and several holograms appearing above the panel, though they were present only briefly before flickering and fading away, leaving before Roaven had a chance to determine what they were supposed to be. "Odd. That wasn't supposed to happen." The Monitor chirped helpfully to the Spartan, who was already attempting to piece together just where he had gone wrong.
"Oh really?" Where the holograms had been in the midst of forming, now stood a single one instead, in the form of a dragon. Ariel immediately recognized the voice of Dresden, her AI companion, head snapping up in the direction of the control panel. As Dresden appeared, a wave of light burst from him, radiating outwards in all directions a short distance. While none of the Spartans were affected, the Monitor was thrown backwards, bouncing once before settling on the ground, stunned.
"Dresden!" Of course, it was hardly a surprise that their AI remained in the control room, as barring any egress via the systems of the ring, they had no way to depart, but the sudden, violent appearance of her AI was nonetheless a surprise. The dragon's scales, normally cool tones of purple and blue, were instead a gradient that shifted into red further back along his 'body', as he leaned down and let out a deep growl. Whether that was a predetermined signal or merely an opportune moment, another animal appeared next to him, this one in the form of a wolf, similarly tinted with red, seemingly with anger.
"We've spent the last twelve hours trapped in here, watching you three help that thing get ready to slit our throats." Takeshi clarified. Max's attention had long since been drawn, but the appearance of his own AI moved him to take to his feet, startled by the vehemence of the statement.
"Easy, he's a friend." Max assured the two AI, as the monitor finally managed to recover, floating upwards to regard the AI, though he seemed to be lost for words, which was a dramatic, and somewhat welcome change.
"Oh, he's your friend, is he? Your pal?" Dresden inquired mockingly, lifting his neck to turn his oppressive gaze onto Max, since neither of the other two Spartans had been left with a chance to enter the conversation. "Do you have any idea what that bastard almost made you do?"
"Activate Halo's defenses and destroy the flood." Max nodded, with more patience than Ariel thought the situation necessarily warranted. Not that any of them were used to being chewed out by their own AI, or, at least, not to this extent. "Which is why we brought the index here."
"You mean this?" Shiro took the opportunity to make his own presence known, appearing between the two with the Index clutched in his outstretched hand, the other resting behind his back in a loose approximation of parade rest.
"Constructs? In this core? This is absolutely unacceptable!" 343 Guilty Spark exclaimed, sounding equal parts aghast and outraged at the intrusion. It was likely that even one of them would have been enough to set him off, but three AI, all working to oppose him? It was a surprise had had remained quiet for so long.
Another growl from Dresden was followed by another pulse of light. While not as strong as the first, it was sufficient to buffet the Monitor, a sufficient demonstration of just how the three AI felt about his indignation. "What impertinence! You three shall be purged immediately!"
"I wouldn't do that." Shiro cautioned, closing his grip on the index, which was absorbed into his form, disappearing. Compared to the other two, he had managed to remain reserved, but there was no missing the tension in his stance. Even if he was showing it less than the others, he was expecting trouble, and none too pleased at events at that. The action left the Monitor stammering a threat, though the trio of AI didn't let him finish.
"Do what?" Takeshi demanded. "We have the index. You can float and sputter." The tension in his tone kept any smugness from creeping into his voice, but it seemed that the three of them were proud of their victory, if nothing else.
"Enough! We don't have time for this. The flood is spreading. We can still stop this." Roaven insisted, rifle held loosely at his side as he shifted sideways, his back to Ariel so he could look between the control panel where the AI resided and the monitor himself. He scarcely understood the anger of their AI, but the fight with 343 Guilty Spark was tearing their attention away from the very real threat that all of them needed to contend with.
Appropriately enough, it was his own AI that first responded, turning his gaze down from the floating Monitor to regard the black-clad Spartan with something approximating pity on his face. "You have no idea how this installation works, do you. Why the Forerunners built it?"
"Halo doesn't kill Flood." Takeshi chimed in, though his gaze didn't waver from their opponent. "It kills their food. Human. Covenant. We're all equally edible."
"The only way to stop them is to starve them to death. That's what it does. Cleans the galaxy of anything they can eat. Ask him."
"Is this true?" Roaven inquired, turning back to regard the monitor. Behind him, Ariel scooped up the plasma rifle she was crouching next to, prying it from a fallen Sangheili warrior, while Max rested his shotgun on one shoulder, waiting to see how things were going to play out.
"More or less." The Monitor conceded after a slight pause, managing to, despite his inability to perform virtually anything in the way of human gestures, sound like he was shrugging in response. Technically, this installation's pulse has a maximum effective radius of twenty-five thousand light years. But, once the others follow suit, this galaxy will be quite devoid of life, or at least any life with sufficient biomass to sustain the Flood."
"Others?" Given the revelation, Ariel could hardly be blamed for the outburst, though 343 Guilty Spark seemed focused entirely on Roaven, at least for the moment, and continued as if he hadn't heard her speak.
"But you already knew that... I mean, how couldn't you?" Another shift in tone, this time landing somewhere between surprised and patronizing. He seemed genuinely convinced that this was common knowledge, at least to the group of Spartans gathered in front of him, but dismissive of the fact nonetheless. With a sigh, Shiro shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his chest and staring down the Monitor.
"I assume he forgot to mention that particular detail."
"We followed outbreak containment to the letter. You were with me every step of the way." 343 Guilty Spark continued, neither his gaze nor tone wavering. It was a combination that was rather unsettlingly menacing, despite the lack of aggression in his voice. "Why would you hesitate to do what has already been done?"
"Movement on radar." Ariel hissed, raising her rifle to hold it aimed loosely in the Monitor's direction, quite certain that she did not like where this was going. Max wasn't quite as threatening in his posture, but had brought his own shotgun to rest in both hands, double checking to ensure that it was loaded and turning to sweep the room. "We need to go. Now." As if in cue, a group of sentinels, the angular metallic guardians of the installation that had failed to contain the flood rose behind the Monitor, flanking him on each side.
"Last time, you asked me: if it were up to me, would I do it? Having had significant time to ponder your query, my answer has not changed. We must activate the ring." The presence of the sentinels was more than enough to spur Roaven to action, turning to face the Monitor and backing towards the control panel. Unwilling to turn his back to the enemy, he reached behind him and felt around for…there! Retrieving his AI's data chip, he slid it into his helmet and took up his rifle in both hands, trying to ignore the urging of Shiro that they depart, as Ariel had suggested. It was unlikely they would be allowed to leave without violence, at this point, and dealing with the threats in the room was the more pressing concern. "If you are unwilling to help, I will simply find another, but I must have the index. Surrender your constructs to me, or I will be forced to take them."
"That isn't going to happen." Ariel assured him, her rifle now shifting to rest her sights upon the closest of the sentinels.
"So be it." Another verbal shrug, the Monitor surprisingly unconcerned with this turn of events, or, at the very least, sounding as if he was. "Save his head. Dispose of the rest." Yellow rings of light rose from the floor to envelop the Monitor, and when they faded, so did he, leaving the group alone with the sentinels, who wasted no time in carrying out the command. Beams of orange-red energy lanced out, dissipating on the Spartans shields but forcing them to find cover. The circular walkway was ringed with high glass, which provided some protection. Whatever the mechanics of the energy used by their new enemies, it at least seemed not to be able to pass through glass, whether by nature of the beams themselves or something in the glass used on the ring.
Roaven was reminded, as he unleashed a burst of rifle fire into the first target he managed to acquire, that machines did not appreciate the value of self-preservation, rendering suppressive fire entirely pointless. His shots were accurate, but whatever rounds didn't glance off the metal plating of the sentinel did nothing to slow or stop it. Ariel's opening attack was more effective, the bright blue energy from the plasma rifle she had appropriated causing the sentinel she had targeted to falter and then plummet, whatever system that functioned to keep them afloat failing. Energy seemed far more effective than ballistics, which was a lesson that both Roaven and Max took quick note of.
Max had not managed to get his hands on a plasma weapon, but he did have their stockpile of grenades, and he was quick to take one to hand, depressing the priming button and letting it start counting down to detonation. With the enemy airborne, an airburst was the only way to make it effective, and he couldn't help but be thankful that they were all well armored against any wayward fragments. While his timing wasn't perfect, haste driving him to throw perhaps a second too early, the blast still managed to catch two sentinels in its radius, one of them exploding itself while the other drifted downwards, out of sight.
The sentinels wasted no time in returning fire, lances of energy converging on Roaven, sending his shield's strength plummeting far faster than he would have liked, and leaving him forced to duck back behind the thick protective glass to allow them to recharge. A few bursts of plasma fire from Ariel failed to down another, their fire shifting to her before she could land any particularly solid hits. That, at least, left Roaven with an opening, one he hastened to take advantage of. An orb of green plasma coalesced at the front of his plasma pistol as he drew it and depressed the trigger, charging it to full strength before leaning out to fire at the closest target. The overcharged plasma bolt was strikingly effective, melting away part of the sentinel's front and damaging something critical within it, the remains of the machine clattering onto the walkway below it and falling still. The bolt took a toll on the weapon's charge level, however, and left it venting excess heat, rendering another shot out of the question for at least a moment or two.
Seeming to understand that allowing the Spartans to take cover was turning the fight against them, the remaining four machines advanced, aiming to envelop the group and attack from an angle at which their cover was useless. The downside of such a strategy became just as apparent, however, as the first sentinel to crest the glass Max was hiding behind was greeted with a spread of buckshot from his shotgun, the inefficiency of ballistic weapons made irrelevant by the close range of his target. Like the one eliminated with the overcharged plasma bolt, the sentinel exploded, shrapnel pelting against Max's shield as it plunged out of sight. No other target presented itself within range, however, as he chambered another shell, already turning to track the next closest target. The two who had attempted to circle around and attack Roaven and Ariel fell quickly to a hail of plasma bolts colored brilliantly green and blue, a hail of fire seeming to serve the black-clad Spartan as well as the single overcharged bolt had.
Not wanting to use up one of their few remaining grenades, Max instead pulled free his sidearm and brought it to bear, snapping off several quick shots at the final enemy. All of his spare magazines had gone to Ariel, but his was still loaded, and the high caliber explosive rounds managed to succeed where Roaven's rifle had failed, the impact leaving the sentinel swaying unsteadily. The subsequent rounds managed to strike something vital, the machine emitting smoke and sparks as it staggered forward more than floated, faltering repeatedly before finally collapsing to the walkway. "That's all of them." Max announced, returning the weapon to his hip and glancing back at the others. "For now." No doubt there were legions more elsewhere, but they hopefully had their hands full dealing with the Covenant, and, now, the Flood.
"Get your AI, we need to go." While they were hopefully safe in Halo's systems, Roaven was ill-inclined to remain in the room, at least not for longer than it took to scrounge for any remaining equipment from the fallen. A quick examination of his plasma pistol revealed it drained to the point of uselessness, at least without a way to recharge it, which they did not possess. Discarding it, he instead scavenged a needler from a fallen grunt, a weapon he suspected would at least be useful against the Flood, though likely less so the well armored sentinels. The other two converged on the control panel to retrieve their own companions' data crystals, after securing a couple of grenades from the Covenant corpses.
"We can't let the monitor activate the ring." Takeshi announced over the Spartans' private comm channel, once he was securely back inside of Max's armor. "He seemed intent on finding another way."
"We have the index." Shiro pointed out. "But we shouldn't risk it." He conceded. "The chance of there being another way is too high, given the risk."
"This weapon can't be allowed to remain, then. We have to destroy it." Dresden declared with confidence and perhaps some eagerness as well, at the prospect of such a large level of destruction. Of course, given that the ring was large enough to rival a planet, finding a way to destroy it was the chief challenge, but the AI was something of an expert on such matters. "A star ship's fusion reactor going critical would do it. If we can find the Pillar of Autumn's crash site…." Letting out an audible sigh over the network, Shiro didn't sound nearly as enthused with the idea.
"An explosion of sufficient size would cut through a number of primary systems…once destabilized, I imagine that the ring would tear itself apart. Takeshi, could you-"
"Hunt down the crash site? I imagine I can find something in the battle net." It might have been Roaven's imagination, but he thought that the wolf AI sounded almost amused by the idea that he would get to hunt down the information, his form being a predator. At least it gave their AI a task to dedicate themselves to, as the Spartans regrouped by the entrance to the control center, picking past debris of the sentinels that hadn't missed the walkway as they did so. The massive, imposing door was closed, but the control panel was the same on the inside as the one they had used to enter the last time. The bigger problem was the distinct lack of cover, forcing Ariel and Max to shelter against the left from of the door while Roaven activated the control panel and ducked back behind it as it slowly slid open.
As all three of them had individually suspected, there were sentinels beyond the door, but despite the noise associated with it, the parting metal door drew no attention, as the machines were currently embroiled in a skirmish with a squad of covenant soldiers. Their energy beams cut through the grunts readily enough, but the shields carried by the jackals, and part of the armor of the elites, proved a match, and the rifles of the Sangheili warriors were quite lethal to the unshielded sentinels. When the shooting died down, there were three of the Elites still standing, along with a single jackal, left surveying the wreckage and checking on the fallen to ensure that there was nothing to be done for them.
A quick glance revealed Ariel and Max looking as if they were conspiring about something, sharing a curt nod and then slipping from cover to advance on their distracted opponents. It was only a matter of moments before they were noticed, but they were able to cover an impressive amount of ground in that time. Out of effective range where the needle-like projectiles of his newly acquired covenant weapon would track them, Roaven relied instead on his rifle to cover them, short, staccato bursts of gunfire echoing through the hallway before fading away. He didn't wish to expend too much of his remaining ammo, and soon enough the other Spartans were obstructing his line of fire anyway, leaving him to advance in their wake.
A glowing blue orb arcing from Max's hand was the first sign that he had primed a plasma grenade, the throw not quite accurate enough to adhere to any of his opponents, but landing among them, which was plenty close enough to pose a very real threat. Torn between standing their ground to return fire and diving aside to escape the blast, but subsequently leaving themselves vulnerable, their reactions were mixed. The jackal stood its ground, trusting in the round, semi-transparent shield of energy it carried in its left hand to protect it. One of the elites was safely out of the blast radius, or so it thought, instead firing on the approaching Spartans, blue plasma lancing past them and splashing across their shield as he tried to track them. Of the other two, one dived aside and one stood their ground as the grenade exploded, a bright blue flash of light engulfing the jackal and one of the elites before fading away.
The jackal's shield had taken the brunt of the blast, but it had overloaded in the process, leaving the avian-like creature to squawk angrily and begin charging its plasma pistol, green energy coalescing at the end of it. The other elite had fared worse, shields failed and left clinging to life, scarcely in a state to fight. The two charging Spartans each focused a different opponent, Ariel's plasma rifle rapidly building heat as she kept the trigger depressed, bombarding the elite she had targeted with a hail of fire, working to rapidly cut through it shields, while Max approached the warrior who had dived aside, bringing his shotgun to bear and firing on the covenant soldier while it was down. The first blast of buckshot overloaded the elite's shields, which flared visibly before dissipating, and a second shot drew blood as it tried to raise its rifle, the force of the impact sending it sprawling back as purple blood splattered against the cool gray metal of the floor.
A short burst of rifle fire put down the jackal, leaving its weapon to discharge harmlessly into the air, green plasma dissipating on the ceiling above the group. Max swung his weapon around to target the other elite, though too slowly, as Ariel had already discarded the plasma rifle, letting it clatter to the floor and vent heat while she snatched her sidearm from its holster, snapping off a shot before she had even brought it entirely up, catching the Sangheili warrior in the leg and causing it to slump forward, just in time for the follow-up shot to catch it in the head, leaving it tumbling forward and falling still. A third shot put the last enemy out of its misery, lest it try to set off a grenade or reach for a weapon. "Clear!" She announced after one last sweep of the hallway, crouching to retrieve her rifle and to check the dead for spare equipment. "Check the bodies, we're gonna need all the gear we can get."
"So, are we not gonna talk about what just happened, then?" Max asked, retrieving a handful of shotgun shells from his dwindling reserve and feeding them into his shotgun one at a time, returning the rest once his weapon was topped up. Finished, he wheeled on the others, though he glanced down the hallway once every few moments to ensure that they weren't going to take additional contact.
"The fight went fine, Max. We didn't have the luxury of engaging from cover, the assault was the smart move." Ariel replied, taking advantage of their private comm channel to allow her to continue searching the bodies, rolling over one of the fallen and examining their weapon, refraining from even glancing over at her fellow Spartan, that she could multitask.
"Not the fight, Ariel. The control room. We were seconds away from pulling the trigger on Halo. Us, the marines, the Covenant, everything, gone." While none of them were prone to letting excessive emotion creep into their voice, it was clear enough from what was there that Max was feeling the weight of their near annihilation of life on the ring, and any close enough to be in range beyond that, though it was hard to say just how much life there was beyond the ring that would be affected. "If it hadn't been for Shiro…."
"And Dresden, and Takeshi. Yes, they stopped us from making a mistake, but we didn't make it." Ariel noted curtly, swapping her drained plasma rifle out for a fresh one and recovering a plasma grenade for her own use. It didn't seem like these Covenant troops were brimming with supplies either, probably feeling the weight of the war on two fronts, or at least against two enemies, almost as much as the UNSC was.
"That's it? We almost fired off a superweapon, but we didn't, so oh well?" Max scoffed, shaking his head and taking a few steps back to lean against the wall behind him.
"What, you want to sit here and cry about it for a while, give the monitor some time to hotwire the damn thing? We have a job to do, Max. Get it together so we can fucking do it."
"Cry about it? Cry about it? I'm sorry that I have some regard for-"
"Stow it, you two." Roaven interjected, it having become plenty clear by that point that the discussion wasn't doing either of them any good. They had been operating for a while with probably insufficient food or rest, not to mention the stress imposed by the new enemy they were fighting, and the prospect of what Halo truly was. It was little surprise that even the well-disciplined Spartans were beginning to fray around the edges, but if he gave them head to argue themselves out, it would as like as not just lead to hostility and waste time they didn't have, to Ariel's point. "We need to keep moving. Max, on point, Ariel, behind him. Move out." It only made sense to make their shotgun-wielding soldier the one going first, and Ariel seemed to be growing fond of aggressive maneuvers, which left her well suited to be next in line.
While Ariel and Max did pause for long enough to stare each other down a moment, they shared a nod and turned to set out down the hallway towards the bend where it turned sharply to the left, another short hallway leading to the entrance, or, in this case, exit, from the control room's hallway.
"Sharply done." A voice chirped in Roaven's ear, his onboard AI finally making his presence known. The Spartan chose to believe that it was merely a matter of Shiro readjusting to being in Roaven's armor, or maybe just having his hands full with thoughts and calculations, but it was always hard to tell. "Good to see you were absorbing the leadership advice I've offered you while I was gone." Given the smug tone of his voice, Roaven had to assume that the AI was being at least somewhat self-aware, but he couldn't be entirely certain.
"If this is what being a leader is like, the others are welcome to the role." Roaven sighed. "I hope the others are doing well. I don't suppose you've any news on that front?"
"Afraid not. Hard enough tapping the Covenant battle-net right now, with how chaotic things are. I can't get anything from our side. Given the size of the ring, though, and how you've been teleporting around, they might simply be out of range."
"Or they might be gone."
"It is a possibility." Shiro conceded. "But with the Covenant now fighting on two fronts, I suspect they're still holding out. We'll find out as soon as possible. However, there is…hm. One moment." Given how fast that AI tended to think, or, well, process, one moment seemed a lot of time, but he had plenty else to focus on, mostly trailing the other two and keeping an eye out for threats. Fortunately, none presented themselves, the fallen squad of covenant seeming to have been the last of the resistance between themselves and the exit. Outside, things were, more or less, how they had been left, though the turrets the Covenant had been using to defend the entrance were missing, and it was far darker, evening fast approaching into night, though there was enough light left to see by without relying on flashlights.
"There. Up that ramp. I'm picking up friendly IFF tags. Just be careful." The warning was mostly unnecessary, given that all three of them knew well by now that some of the Flood, being infected marines, might appear as friendly on their HUD, though their AI were doing their best to rectify that oversight. Roaven would hardly complain that his AI maintained interest in keeping him alive, for that matter.
"Ariel, with me. Let's get a perimeter going." A little difficult to accomplish with two individuals, but the two individuals in question were Spartans, which evened things out a bit. "Max, reading friendlies up the ramp. Check it out." The ramp was narrow, and never really opened up, so the shotgun Max carried would be well suited towards scouting out the situation. Ariel and Roaven would be close at hand if there was trouble, but given that things, at least at the top of the pyramid, were quiet, Roaven wasn't worried. Things were somewhat of a different story down below, faint plasma fire indicating that there was combat to be had, but with the radios silent, they had to assume it was flood engaging Covenant, and there were no human forces at risk.
Willing enough to get a moment or two away from Ariel to cool off a bit, (a prospect made easier by the snowy environment that they were now operating in) Max set off up the ramp at an easy pace, not wanting to rush into any trouble. Out of habit, he double checked that there was a round chambered, as quietly as possible. It was still unclear just how perceptive the Flood were, but if there were enemies above, he'd rather have the drop on them. The ramp twisted several times, spiraling upwards in a rectangular pattern. It had no rails or guards, but instead tall, sleek metal walls, that gave way only in short amounts to allow a peek below. At the top, there was enough of a gap to see the entrance to the control center, doors still open, though neither of the other Spartans could be seen from where he stood.
What could be seen were three UNSC marines, prone and unmoving, a small collection of gear scattered about them. Their bodies were stiff, but not yet frozen, the structure they were in serving to have kept the frost at bay, at least so far. All three were visibly wounded, but it was difficult to ascertain the precise nature of their wounds, thanks to their armor and the blood across it. Taking a moment to confirm that none of the three were still breathing, Max gathered up their equipment solemnly, hoping that they could at least assist the Spartans in that manner. The common human soldiers had a hard time keeping up with the Spartans, but they gave the Covenant hell at every turn, and seeing as how their weapons were partially empty, Max chose to believe that had been the case until the end.
"Hopefully they went down fighting." Max nearly jumped at the voice, berating himself, as it had merely been Takeshi chiming in. He had almost gotten used to being without his AI, and while he much preferred to be in the company of the wolf, he had to remember that his companion was back. "Probably a recon team, judging by the rifle. Not a bad position, up here." The rifle in question was the anti-materiel weapon used by UNSC Snipers, and from the top of the pyramid, anyone using it would have a commanding view of the entire canyon, with the ability to engage practically anything the Covenant could bring to bear. The last marine that Max had seen with a rifle had been, well, technically an ODST, and had been with them when they had first stormed the control room, providing support with the rifle and doing a good job of it, too. If they ever made another batch of Spartans, Max wondered if they might consider the man. Though, his name was escaping the Spartan, for the moment…
"Hawk." Again, Max was startled, though this time it wasn't the voice that had done it, it was the apparent ability of his AI to read his mind, as he hadn't voiced his inability to remember the soldier's name. Before Max could ask Takeshi how he had been able to guess, his AI finished his thought. "Lance Corporal Nathaniel Hawkins. He was with us earlier." Shifting his gaze back to the fallen marines, Max looked the sniper over a second time and felt a pang of guilt as he finally recognized the soldier who had fought with them earlier. Death loomed over the fallen ODST like a pale specter, who was hard to recognize with the life drained from him. It was unfortunate to lose a good man, but many more would follow if the Spartans failed now.
"Hope you gave 'em hell, marine." Max murmured, picking up the soldier's rifle and the pack he had stuffed the little ammo the fallen had on them into, trailing slowly back down the ramp to regroup with the others.
"No survivors." He reported, handing the rifle, and the single spare magazine that Hawk had been found with, to Ariel, opting to spare the others the news of the ODST's fate, at least for the moment. He had faith that none of the others would let sentimentality distract them from the task at hand, but there was no need to burden them with the information. Only the marksman had carried a sidearm, but it was enough to replenish his ammo with, the rifle ammo going to Roaven. A nod of affirmation was received from Roaven regarding the status of the friendlies, and then the Spartan had turned his attention to the valley below, striding towards the edge of the pyramid and looking down.
The long, winding path from the base of the structure seemed clear, at least of anything still living, though there were scattered corpses all along it, and not the ones that the Spartans had left earlier, either. Those had presumably been taken by the Flood or carted away by the Covenant, and it was impossible to know which. Down in the valley below, however, there was movement, a Covenant tank and a couple squads of troops guarding a squadron of parked banshees, looking to be mopping up the aftermath of a Flood incursion. It would have been better for their attention to be divided for long, but at the least they seemed to have taken some losses as well. Before any of the Spartans could suggest a plan of attack, however, Dresden spoke up.
"No luck on the crash site so far." He admitted, somewhat grudgingly, by the tone of his voice, clearly frustrated at the lack of progress. "And we can't afford to wait. There's some infrastructure in these canyons that we can-"
"Phase-pulse generators." Shiro chimed in, apparently discontent with the details of said infrastructure being brushed over by his fellow AI. "You might have noticed the platforms up high when we first passed through here."
"That we can knock out." Dresden continued, a slightly more frustrated edge to his voice after the interruption. "Should at least keep the monitor busy for a while."
"Great, but how do we actually take them out? Surely grenades won't do the trick." Ariel eased back from the edge of the pyramid, lowering the rifle and glancing back at the other two Spartans. Strictly speaking, she didn't need to look at them, particularly with her AI involved in the conversation, but it was habit.
"We're finalizing the details on that. Just get up there and we'll walk you through it." Takeshi murmured in the low growl that was his default tone of voice, thanks to his chosen avatar.
"Up'there'?" Ariel prompted, turning her head to scan along the canyon, neck craning to try to see through the falling snow a likely target, made easier as a blue diamond appeared on a platform up above, courtesy of one of the three AI pushing the navigation point to the HUD of all three Spartans. "Right. We need those Banshees, then."
"The corps issued me a rifle, not wings." Max noted, quoting one of the ODSTs that had been present for the rescue mission on the Truth and Reconciliation, a soldier he was reasonably certain hadn't made it through the night. There was little enough room to get attached to others, but such losses…
"Which means we need to take care of that Wraith." Ariel continued, gesturing over her shoulder to the loose area that the Covenant tank was stationed. "This rifle's nice, but I don't think it can punch through at this angle." Her best bet normally would be putting a round through the hatch the driver entered and exited through, but the sloped surface of the tank meant that many angles would leave the round to deflect off rather than push through. Either one of them would need to get close enough to use a grenade or board the tank (or both), or they would need to find some explosives. Preferably an anti-tank weapon.
For good measure, Roaven made for the edge of the structure and peered over the edge, searching for any alternate approach vectors they might be able to take. They could probably hug the wall along the canyon and get to the elevator that connected, through a few rooms, with the natural bridge in the canyon, but that was far below the point they needed to reach, and had no Banshees present on it, as it had when they first stormed the control room. Not to mention the possibility that the Wraith would see them ahead of time, which would leave them in a very bad position. Even with the light of day faded away, it wasn't dark enough to suggest that a stealth mission would be a sensible idea.
Still, even if they couldn't use the rifle on the tank, there was enough infantry below to ensure it would be useful, even with the finite amount of ammunition that they had for it. While Roaven appreciated the challenge of operating in the field, he could hardly deny the appeal of having virtually all the equipment and ammunition that they needed. They were Spartans, however, and would hardly let a lack of excessive ammunition prevent them from carrying out their mission, particularly with so much at stake.
"Alright, Ariel, I think you're best served remaining up here. Advance down the structure if you think it best, just keep us covered. Max, you're with me. We're going to start checking bodies for anti-tank gear."
"RoE?" Ariel inquired, wanting to clarify when the bullets were supposed to start flying. No sense starting things from a bad position, but if the two Spartans were seen making their way down the pyramid, the Wraith would be free to start lobbing plasma with practical impunity, and Ariel would be left with little to do besides attempt to scarce the driver into relocating.
"Return fire only. We'll try to keep a low profile." The plan was straightforward enough, requiring little additional explanation beyond that, and soon enough Max and Roaven were moving out, working down the pyramid one level at a time in search of anything that might be of use. At one point, two levels down, a heavily burned grunt bearing the dark coloration of Spec Ops ranking indicated where there had likely been a fuel rod gun, the shoulder mounted cannons favored by the Covenant as anti-tank weapons, and very similar to the arm cannons used by the Hunters. Unfortunately, as with many of the ones they had encountered in the field, it seemed to have detonated, leaving nothing useful behind for the Spartans, but at least having done some damage to the flood form that had brought the grunt down.
It wasn't until the two made it to the bottom of the pyramid that they had any luck, a dead marine fireteam found mixed with fallen Flood forms, the wounds on each painting a pretty clear picture of the battle that had occurred here. It was even possible that the recon team found above had been part of, or at least attached to, this squad, though there was little time to verify it. Roaven was the first to spot a rectangular, brown box of anti-tank rockets, propped up against the wall of the structure next to a fallen soldier who presumably had been responsible for carrying it. He only had a rifle on him, however, with no sign of the weapon the ammunition was for.
Seeing a weapon poking out from under another marine, Max crouched beside him and rolled him over, exposing the bulky rocket launcher the man had died upon, though the movement drew attention from a combat form nearby, one of the fallen who was apparently less dead than initially appeared. Throwing himself at Max, it made it only part way before Roaven intercepted it, driving the butt of his rifle into the creature and knocking it onto the ground, several more strikes following the first for good measure to ensure that it was dead. It hadn't been the quietest fight, but unlike gunfire, the noise wouldn't echo through the canyon. A few tense moments later, it became clear that they had yet to be detected by the remaining Covenant forces in the area, though the distinct lack of sniper fire also reinforced that fact. No doubt their third member was watching for any sign that their cover had been blown to start engaging.
There was a single rocket left in the launcher, the first of the two tubes having been discharged by the troops at some point before the flood had made it too close to risk firing it again. Opening the box of ammo, Roaven drew a pre-loaded pair of tubes from it, removing the ones in the weapon and sliding the fresh ones into place. The Wraith was well armored, but a pair of well-placed 102mm rockets would see it reduced to a smoldering wreck. The problem was managing to land both of those shots. Unlike a treaded tank, the Wraith could drift in any direction on command, making follow up shots difficult. One round might do some damage, but it wouldn't render the vehicle combat ineffective. "We've found a launcher, Ariel. Just need to get close enough to put it to use."
"Go wide around to the left. I'll get you an opening." Ariel promised, a slight edge to her voice that meant she had a plan in mind, which was exactly the sort of thing that left Roaven a little worried. Still, it was a better idea, whatever it was, than charging blindly at the tank, so he didn't see any reason to be particularly picky. Briefly, the thought occurred that he might be able to steal one of the banshees and get clear of the arc of fire of the Wraith before it could bring him down, but with so many Covenant ground forces still concentrated around them, the risk was too great. If the vehicles were destroyed, they would be left without a way to ascend to the pulse generator.
The bottom of the ramp leading from the pyramid into the canyon proper was unguarded, save for a few fallen Covenant from some earlier encounter, frost having long since claimed their corpses. Whatever the flood had attempted in the corner of the canyon near the tank had drawn most of the enemy away, and it seemed that even now they were sweeping that area and making sure that they hadn't missed any stragglers. Given that only the Sangheili were equipped with energy shields that could help resist the small infection forms, caution would be well worthwhile in preserving the lives of the smaller covenant soldiers, and more importantly, keeping them from joining the ranks of the creatures.
Beckoning Max to stay close, Roaven shifted to the left, hugging the canyon wall and beginning to work his way around carefully, keeping low in case any enemy troops were looking in his direction. The wraith was largely idle, the plasma mortar that it was armed with not suited for the work of flushing out the remaining flood, but left manned in case there was another attack made in the near future. The closer that the two Spartans got, the more on edge Roaven was left that they might be detected, but various rocks scattered around provided decent enough cover. It appeared that Ariel had been keeping track of their progress, as when they got close enough for detection to be a serious issue, she announced that it was time.
The crack of a supersonic rifle round echoed through the canyon, and the dull impact of a body hitting snow nearby gave a hint as to what her initial target had been, a low-ranking elite that had been patrolling out near the hiding place of the two Spartans. That drew the attention of the survivors, who immediately scattered for cover and attempted to locate the shooter, the tank turning slowly as it scanned the pyramid structure. Both Max and Roaven broke from cover at the same time, though with different targets. Roaven dropped into a crouch after he covered about a third of the distance between himself and the tank, taking advantage of the scope linked with his HUD and bringing the shoulder fired launcher to bear before firing, the dull 'whoompf' of the rocket leaving the tube and the second tube rotating into place his signal to follow it up with a second shot.
The nearest Sangheili turned to look at the source of the new threat as the first rocket made impact, the explosion briefly casting their surroundings in a warm orange glow, just in time to illuminate the Spartan bearing down on it, and the shotgun that Max held. The sound of the weapon firing was lost in the noise of the explosion, but the fatal impact was felt by the warrior for a brief moment before it joined several of its comrades on the snow, slowly staining the white powder purple from its blood.
Dropping the now empty launcher, Roaven switched to his rifle as the second rocket made impact, the entire tank now blossoming into a fireball, shrapnel arcing away from it before sinking into the snow, rapidly cooling as the hover engine gave out and dropped the wreckage of the vehicle onto the ground. Caught between Ariel's accurate sniper fire and the assault of the two Spartans, the remaining covenant fell quickly, and once more the chaotic sounds of a firefight faded away into the somewhat-eerie silence that had come before. A cursory examination verified that the banshees were intact, and with no further threats evident, the two Spartans could get airborne, Ariel promising to catch up as she began her descent from the pyramid to claim the third banshee.
It was little surprise that the landing platform was clear, as the Flood lacked the ability to fly, and the Covenant had little reason to come up to the generator, which consisted entirely of a moderately sized room with a brightly glowing beam of energy passing vertically through the center, surrounded by four small metal pillars that failed to entirely encase it. It was distressingly poorly shielded, but as Shiro pointed out, it wasn't likely designed with the intention of ever having been visited by a sentient creature beyond the sentinels and monitor.
Of course, there was the still present question of what exactly they were supposed to do now that they were face to face with the phase-pulse generator. The rocket launcher was empty, and laying in the snow below them anyway, and Max was not particularly convinced that the grenades he had left would be enough to significantly disrupt the operation of the thing. "The center core is what we need to disable. As best we can tell, these amplify Halo's power, and are what allows it to fire deep into space." Shiro explained
"More to the point, we think we can disable it." Takeshi continued. "The power running through it is massive. If we can interrupt the energy flow…to that end, we've turned your armor into an EMP of sorts. Simply step into the beam and you'll overload it."
"But your shields will be disabled as well, and you'll be left vulnerable until they recharge." Shiro added hastily, not wanting either of the Spartans to step into the beam without understanding the downsides of it. Still, vulnerability didn't seem to pose an immediate threat, as the room was still empty aside from the two of them. A quick, silent conversation was held by the two Spartans, locking gazes for a moment and then nodding. Given that Roaven had faced down the tank, and Max was somewhat more knowledgeable on technical matters, he quite literally stepped up, his visor polarizing from the intensity of the light as he tentatively leaned into the beam, unsure of what he expected to feel.
First, there was nothing, and then after a mere matter of seconds he stumbled clear, the room rocking as the EMP went off, interrupting the flow of the central core. Naturally, that was the moment that a squadron of sentinels arrived, beams lancing down in an attempt to catch Max. He didn't know if they were aware of his vulnerability or not, but either way he was forced to dive for cover as Roaven began engaging the new threats, managing to send two of them sparking to the ground before they shifted their fire to engage him. Having learned that the explosive rounds of the magnum were better suited to dispatching them, Max climbed into a kneeling position, drawing his magnum and emptying the magazine as fast as he could bring the weapon on target into the remaining three sentinels, tearing through the constructs and leaving him with a chance to reload and catch his breath.
As they exited the room, they heard the sharp crack of an anti-materiel rifle being fired, emerging onto the platform to find a third banshee parked next to theirs, and Ariel leaning over the edge of it, sweeping the land bridge that stretched across the breadth of the canyon below them free of the covenant troops that had emerged out onto it while they were dealing with the generator. Low on ammo, she was doing her best to make her shots count, with the downside of there being an abundance of targets too small to waste ammo on remaining, though most of them were busy scattering for cover. She acknowledged their arrival with a lazy wave, and then gestured to the banshees before looking back down her scope and sighting in another threat.
With the covenant below suppressed, Roaven and Max could make strafing runs across the bridge with little risk of return fire, plasma cannons and fuel rod bombs more than capable of digging the survivors out of whatever cover they had managed to find. Evidently, a swarm of flood from the opposite end of the bridge had been what prompted the Covenant to emerge, but they fell just as readily to the hail of fire from the airborne fighters as the covenant did. Once all the remaining covenant had been killed or driven back inside, and the Flood was reduced to a series of corpses across the bridge, they brought their vehicles in to land. According to their AI, the next generator was in the adjacent canyon, and they would need to cut through the structures they had initially come through on their first approach to the control room to make it there.
The initial push through the covenant forces they had routed from the bridge was easy, the demoralized grunts and jackals putting up little enough of a fight to the team of Spartans. Beyond that, the resistance grew stiffer, aided and hindered in equal measures by the arrival of a swarm of Flood, who served to distract the Covenant, but also proved a threat to the Spartans. The ammunition that they could scavenge from the Flood was welcome enough, at least, along with the occasional replacing of their scavenged plasma weaponry with fresher ones. It was surprisingly easy to lose track of time and progress as firefights became routine, a process of sweeping each room they came to and engaging the enemies that almost invariably occupied it before moving on to the next.
While they had tread the hallways before, it still almost came as a surprise when Roaven finally stepped through a doorway and outside, the snowfall having picked up somewhat, and the light that remained in the sky even fainter than before. This was where, previously, they had parted with the marine survivors they had found, but now the only occupants of the canyon were a small group of Covenant that were, at least for the moment, too distracted to notice the three Spartans emerging. Hugging the canyon wall allowed the three to slip past them, descending a small path and then cutting through a short cave that let out on an icy lake, frozen more than solid enough to support their weight. There, they found another marine team, three frozen bodies next to an overturned LAAV 'Warthog'. There was nothing to be done for them but to scavenge what they could, the vehicle easily turned upright thanks to their enhanced strength, and then they could speed on their way.
It was a short drive to find another squadron of parked banshees, guarded, but only by the fallen forms of three Sangheili warriors (and presumably pilots). At a glance, the wounds seemed to be a combination of energy and ballistic weapons, along with some slashes, leaving the Flood as the only logical perpetrators, though there was no sign of any nearby. Whether they had been driven off or simply wandered away in search of more prey was impossible to tell, but the Spartans had a mission to accomplish, one that didn't involve chasing down the responsible party.
Once more, the landing platform that lead to the generator was clear, but the tower that dominated the center of the canyon had a flat top that was crawling with Covenant, including emplacements, and there were several patrolling banshees to contend with on top of that. Not wanting to be strafed on the pad, the logical first step was to deal with the banshees, the Spartans flying high to avoid presenting a good target for the gun emplacements on the tower. With the friendly vehicles marked on each of their HUDs, it was easy enough to pick out the targets that were covenant controlled. The first kill was the easiest, as initially they had been mistaken for friendly pilots, but the spiraling wreckage of one of the covenant fighters was more than enough to shatter that notion, and to send the remaining banshees scrambling to intercept the Spartans.
Max and Ariel dove in on the next target while Roaven peeled off, aiming to slip the attention of their opponents by climbing as steeply as the engine permitted, waiting for one of the others to try to dive in on either of his teammates and then swooping in, the distinctive screeching emitted by the wings of the vehicle filling his ears as he lined up a target. He suspected the Sangheili were likely better pilots than the Spartans, thanks in no small part to familiarity to the controls of the fighter, but they had been caught off guard, and had likely been worn out by constant flood assault before the arrival of the humans. That wasn't to say that the Spartans escaped intact, Max's vehicle smoking rather distressingly as they touched down, but the skies were, after a fashion, clear.
"Same plan as last time. You two head on in. I'm going to sweep the tower." Ariel announced. Her weaponry was ill-suited to the close quarters of the generator room, and she could ensure that they didn't have to brave a hail of anti-air fire as they departed, Max's banshee not likely to survive such a barrage of plasma. She was low on ammunition, but namely she just wanted to take out a few of the guns before hopping in her banshee and wreaking havoc. If she could get above the tower, then it was just a matter of lining up her targets and letting gravity deliver the ordnance for her.
Max took point as they entered the hallway connecting the generator room to the landing platform, shotgun at the ready, which quickly proved a sensible decision, the door parting to reveal a combat form clutching a plasma rifle, though it seemed caught off guard, if the things even could be surprised. The blast of buckshot at such close range was more than adequate to put the thing down, but the blast drew attention from the rest of the flood occupying the room. "Interesting." Shiro mused as Roaven joined the fray, a burst of fire from his rifle catching a skittering cluster of infection forms while Max downed another combat form.
"I wonder if the Flood are aware of the importance of this room. Not to mention how they got here. The ventilation system, maybe?" Shiro had been absent for their trek through the library, but Roaven well remembered how the flood came pouring out of every nook and cranny, including large openings along the wall that he could only assume was some form of ventilation system, though neither the Monitor nor his sentinels had need of such things. Speaking of, their presence was felt here as well, a small explosion on the opposite side of the room signifying the defeat of a sentinel, though several more kept the flood at bay with criss-crossing beams of red-orange energy.
Needing to be rid of them and the flood both before they could disable the generator, Max saw no harm in letting fly a couple of fragmentation grenades, having been able to top off his supply from the fallen as they had traversed the rooms and tunnels of the canyons. The first blast caught machine and flesh in the indiscriminate rain of shrapnel, the second falling lower and detonating amongst a group of flood, none of who moved again afterwards. A trio of quick plasma shots from a plasma pistol was enough to disable one of the two remaining sentinels, an overcharged shot serving to silence the final one as well, and then, for the moment, the room was still.
"It is best that we don't put too much stress on any one of your systems by repeatedly exposing you to the energy in the core." Shiro noted in the silence following the firefight. "To that end, I recommend that you be the one to interrupt the beam, Roaven."
It was sound enough logic, he supposed, though it did little to banish the trepidation that he experienced as he approached the beam, turning his back to it to keep from being blinded, and to more easily spring away from it should it prove necessary. Easing backwards, he finally tired of the careful method in which he was handling it and took a full step back, the feeling of the energy enveloping him largely…absent, to his surprise. There was no mistaking the shock of the EMP interrupting the beam, however, nor the blazing alarm in his armor that indicated that his shields had been depleted. This time, there was no squadron of sentinels to investigate the disturbance, but a wave of flood of every variety pouring from the vents, which proved to be plenty enough motivation to drive Roaven towards the exit.
Max was already halfway there, engaging targets as quickly as he could acquire them and rack new shells into his shotgun, waiting for Roaven to make it through the door into the hallway before following, shooting down the closest flood as they rounded the corner. Unlike covenant, who might be discouraged by the prospect of facing down a shotgun in such close quarters, the flood came on, undeterred, and Max decided a more poignant message was required. He delivered it in the form of his last fragmentation grenade dropped at his feet as he ran, pin pulled, opting not to wait to experience the effect. The sound of it detonating behind them was reassuring, but the red on their motion trackers were little diminished.
Emerging onto the platform to find Ariel and her Banshee already gone, the two Spartans hastily threw themselves in their own vehicles, opening the throttle fully and taking off from the platform. A series of curses from Max followed the staccato sound of gunfire from behind them, the leading Flood wasting no time in engaging the fleeing aircraft. His vehicle had already been damaged, and while he managed to keep control, there was no fighting his steady descent, and flying was a matter of picking a landing spot where he wouldn't hit anything and- oh shit. It was too late to deviate from his course without slamming into either the tower or the canyon wall, but perched in the mouth of the tunnel ahead of him, a significantly larger tunnel than the one they had passed through earlier, was another covenant hover tank, and while it was at the moment distracted lobbing mortars into the depths of the tunnel, it likely wouldn't fail to notice an aircraft crashing behind it.
He had, at least, enough time to relay his predicament to the others, and was relieved to see that Roaven wasted no time in diving straight for the floor of the canyon, while Ariel swooped down to provide air support as best she could. The initial strafing run was more of a distraction than anything, but Max was thankful nonetheless, as it gave him time to slide from the cockpit of his banshee and seek cover. He could see from where he crouched that the tunnel provided a good amount of cover to the tank, unless Ariel came from a dangerously shallow angle. The lighter plasma cannons were better able to score hits along the top of the tank, but they did little to melt through its thick armor, and the fuel rod bombs she launched landed short of the target.
Focused as he was on the vehicle's standoff with Ariel, he almost didn't notice the approaching sound of an engine until the warthog slid to a halt next to him, Roaven barking at him to get in. The tank hadn't missed the Spartan's arrival, though, spinning to arc a plasma mortar at them, though the wheels were already spinning as Max climbed into the back and grabbed the gun, double checking that it was loaded. It was, and while the anti-air machine gun stood little better chance than the plasma cannons of the banshee of getting through the armor of the wraith, it had the distinct advantage of maneuverability. The tank could only turn so fast, and Roaven was able to get around behind the tank, allowing Max to unload into the comparatively weaker armor there as the wraith tried to bring them back into its sights. It managed to get most of the way there before a green, glowing explosion rocked it from behind, having left itself vulnerable to a low angle attack from the air by Ariel. It didn't erupt into flames as the one they had engaged with the rocket launcher did, but it clattered to the ground, engine dying as the top hatch opened and the elite inside attempted to exit the vehicle. A hail of gunfire met him, depleting his shield in seconds and leaving his lifeless form to slump back down into the tank.
Turning to look down the tunnel, Max could see that it was a battlefield all the way to the bottom, covenant forces clashing with flood as they tried to push to the solid door at the bottom of the downward sloping tunnel. Last time they had been coming up the slope, and they'd had a tank to clear a path for them. A warthog and a banshee were a potent enough combination, but the ceiling was prohibitively low for any maneuverability, though it did little to dissuade Ariel from diving in to clear a path, promising to 'meet them at the bottom'. There was nothing for it but to follow, Roaven doing his best to swerve between rocks and combatants, Max offering a dissuading burst of 12.7 from the M41 minigun to any flood or covenant that though to try to engage the passing vehicle.
Ariel kept well ahead of them thanks to the ability of the airborne vehicle to avoid the terrain and the combatants both, but in the confines of the tunnel she was an obvious target, both plasma and ballistics fire lancing up to try to swat her from the sky. She kept on the move, however, refusing to present an easy target and occasionally tilting the front of the banshee down to rake plasma fire across a particularly inviting target. A cluster of flood standing around the control panel to the door at the bottom of the tunnel were one such target, needing to be cleared out or at least scattered before the Spartans driving the warthog arrived, lest they face a withering hail of fire from the group.
Slowing slightly, she waited for the sights in her HUD to indicate that she was on target before opening fire, slicing through two of the forms with the first burst, though the others scrambled to return fire as they realized the source of the attack. Too late, she realized that one of the surviving flood form clutched a bulky rocket launcher, gunning the engine as hard as she could to try to avoid the rocket that came flying up at her.
Max watched, struck by horror as the fireball engulfed Ariel's banshee, the vehicle losing its graceful path through the air and instead plummeting downwards at an angle. He was too far away still to hear the impact, but it was almost as if he could feel it, as strikingly as when they had interrupted the pulse generator beams only a short while ago. "Roaven!"
"I know!" Roaven retorted, already having the engine of the Warthog redlined, struggling to control it and unable to entirely avoid plowing through a small cluster of covenant, cursing and struggling to keep from spinning out of control as the ride suddenly became significantly bumpier. The tunnel was leveling out now, only a short distance and a handful of flood between them and the wreckage of Ariel's banshee, though one of them still clutching the launcher it had used to down the banshee. Max knew well the threat it posed, and was already spinning up the gun when it came into sight, rounds kicking up frozen dirt around it and splattering the ground with olive green ichor when some rounds found their mark. It didn't stop it from firing, but the rocket was released at an angle, impacting the ground in front of their vehicle instead of hitting them dead on.
The blast was enough to finally do what the rocks and the covenant they had run over hadn't, Roaven finally losing control of the vehicle, desperately trying to straighten them up until they turned sideways and rolled over, Max ended up thrown clear of the gunner's seat, partly by intent and partly from the crash.
By the time Max managed to get to his feet, he discovered that Roaven had already exited the overturned Warthog, either after it had come to a halt or thrown free as Max had been, and was busy firing at the remaining flood with his plasma pistol, his rifle either still in the vehicle or tossed out when they rolled. The rocket launcher wielding combat form was still up, but with the weapon expended, it seemed uncertain of what to do. Max, finding his shotgun nearby, put an end to that uncertainty with a shotgun shell, chambering another and putting down two more flood forms as Roaven finished off the one he had been engaging.
Ballistics seemed better suited to dealing with the Flood, though as 343 Guilty Spark had mentioned, they were of no help in burning bodies to keep the Flood from making use of them. Having burned the plasma pistol out nearly entirely, Roaven discarded it, replacing it with a plasma rifle from one of the fallen enemies that Ariel had killed in her strafing run. Wasting little time, he set out to examine the wreckage, Max close behind and fearing the worst.
The wreck was as bad as he had suspected, the banshee missing one wing entirely and crushed where it had impacted the wall, the fallen form of the Spartan laying still next to it. Roaven approached first, to check for vitals, while Max spun and took a knee, making sure that no hostiles approached from behind. No sense in putting too much trust into their motion tracker, particularly with the Sangheili possessing active camouflage.
Crouching at her side, Roaven frowned beneath his helmet, setting his rifle aside and reaching down, taking her by the shoulder and rolling her onto her back. He wasn't holding out hope, but he could at least recover her AI chip, assuming that it was protected by her armor. He wouldn't be pleased to have outlived his companion, but he would at least serve to carry the memory on. Reaching up to her helmet, he eased it off of her, breaking the seal with a slight hiss, rotating it to retrieve the chip. Taking hold of it, he nearly jumped when a hand clasped around his arm, already reaching for his rifle with his free hand.
"Took you two long enough." Ariel groaned, cracking one eye open to regard him, though she didn't smile, and he had a hard time blaming her. Not wanting to leave her exposed for longer than necessary, he slid her helmet back into place, easing back slightly to give her room to sit up. "Thought for a minute…well, we're made of strong stuff." Trying to take to her feet, she instead hissed, falling back into a sitting position and shaking her head.
"Max, get the first aid kit from the Warthog. And see if you can find my rifle." A single click of the mic indicated the other Spartan's acknowledgement of the order, and he set out to do exactly that, returning only a few minutes later with both the kit and Roaven's assault rifle. Leaving Max to administer first aid, Roaven made his way over to the control panel for the door that loomed over them, positioned off to the left of the rest of the tunnel at a ninety-degree angle. As the doors ground open, he was relieved to find the cavernous hallway beyond free of hostiles, leaving him free to return to the warthog and upright it again. It wasn't unscathed, but the damage seemed largely superficial, the engine, at least, still functioning.
With Ariel back in fighting condition, and their vehicle restored, it was left only for the three of them to climb aboard, though not without gathering another shotgun and ammunition from the dead combat forms. With Ariel's rifle gone in the wreck, and Roaven's sidearm expended, it was a welcome opportunity to restock, and once the integrity of the weapons could be verified, they were off. Another imposing door stood at the end of the hallway, barricading the entrance, as Roaven recalled, to a large cavern, dominated chiefly by a chasm in the center that was bridged by…well, a bridge, and another that had either been unfinished or destroyed.
As the closest to the control panel, Roaven dismounted, walking over to it and activating the door's mechanism, striding back to the car as the door began parting. Once it was roughly wide enough to admit perhaps two humans standing shoulder to shoulder, the mechanism emitted and alarming noise, and then something exploded in the door, which came to an immediate halt. Whether they were responsible, taking advantage, or merely drawn to the noise, a wave of flood forms began pouring through the opening. Max had been left on guard by the explosion, however, and the barking of the minigun answered their advance, turning the small opening into a killing field. When no more contacts made themselves visible, Roaven enlisted Max's help to try to force the doors opened, but they were stuck fast, even for their not-insignificant strength.
With their vehicle unable to fit through, it meant dismounting and continuing on foot, entering the cavern and noting a skirmish between covenant and flood forces on the opposite side of the chasm, which provided a chance for them to begin crossing the bridge unnoticed. Predictably, it didn't last, the covenant forces succumbing to the flood and leaving the Spartans to contend with a wave of hostiles roughly halfway across the bridge.
Normally the fight might not be so bad, but the ample amount of cover that the structure provided allowed infection forms to skitter too close for comfort, and the combat forms were capable of leaps that put the team at risk of being flanked. It was a frustratingly slow advance, but their progress was inexorable, and once they had emerged on the far side of the bridge, little resistance remained to slow their progress through a nearly identical hallway to the one they had entered through. This time, they emerged up a snowy ramp and into a wide-open canyon, a cursory examination confirming that the wraith that had been guarding the tunnel from a perch above it (now behind them as they exited) was still there, or what was left of it was, at least.
Flood and covenant were once more engaged with one another, a defensive position established by the covenant off to the right so far moderately successful at fending off the enemy, though Roaven held his doubts as to how long they would last. Instead, the Spartans went left, hugging the canyon wall and ascending a slightly incline only to find that the tunnel that cut into the next canyon had, at some point, collapsed. The only thing left to do was continue straight ahead to where the canyons joined, ice and snow proving far less an obstacle for them as it might have a team of marines.
Another familiar wreckage greeted them, this time of a dropship that had brought in the tank they had made use of during their assault on the control room, though no bodies of equipment remained nearby. The pulse generator was behind them, now, in the bend of the canyon that connected the first canyon with the one they were in now, but it was also above them, and with no way to ascend without acquiring another set of banshees, there was nothing for it but to trudge ahead. "I'm picking up a significant Covenant position up ahead. They are likely to have transportation. If you can acquire it."
Acquiring it, of course, was the hard part, but they wouldn't be alone in their assault. As they had witnessed repeatedly during their trek, the position was besieged by flood, arcing bolts of plasma lighting up the night from across the canyon, the most noteworthy threat presented by a third, and hopefully final Wraith tank, which as the Spartans watched, reduced a cluster of flood combat forms to charred corpses. It couldn't be everywhere at once, however, and at the same time a carrier form exploded next to a shade turret, the force overturning it and flinging its occupant free, the grunt swarmed by infection forms from the carrier before it could get to its feet.
The distraction of the flood assault could get them close, but none of the combat forms seemed equipped with heavy enough firepower to take care of the Wraith, which meant that the Spartans would either have to brave slipping by to steal the banshees, and then try to not get shot out of the sky, or they'd need to neutralize the wraith and then acquire transport. Crouching in the doorway that had first deposited them in the canyon from the bridges above in what seemed now like another lifetime, they debated on a plan.
"Three of us charging a Wraith are just gonna make for prime targets, even if it is looking the other way." Ariel insisted. "And make it more likely for us to be seen at that."
"Perhaps, but I fancy the odds of two Spartans against a tank about twice as much as I do one of us." Roaven countered, glancing over towards the wall of the canyon where the surviving covenant forces held.
"Max has to be one of them. He's got the best arm and practically all of our explosives."
"Fine." Max conceded with a shrug. He couldn't dispute the truth of either of those points, and it wouldn't be the first tank he had faced down. The other two were better pilots, so if one of them were able to get a Banshee, they'd be better off. "But you should come with me, Ariel. Subtlety suits Roaven more."
"I suppose that's true enough." Ariel admitted. She was graceful, to be sure, but despite his willingness to bark orders, Roaven had always been good at sneaking around when the situation called for it. It just so often called for overwhelming firepower instead. "So we go for the tank, he tries to snag a banshee and provide air support." The plan would probably shift on the fly, but it was a good enough starting point for them to break and make for their respective positions.
In this case, that meant Roaven on his own and the other two crouched behind a snow-covered boulder, waiting for the Wraith to take an arcing shot at a distant target before breaking from cover and sprinting for it. The only chance they had was to get in too close for it to effectively use its weapon, and ideally to get as far as possible without being spotted, though as plasma bolts melted snow around them, concealment was all but guaranteed to be over with. Indeed, the Wraith was already turning to face the new, more pressing threat, though its first shot went too far, detonating behind the two Spartans, leaving them somewhat shaken, but largely unaffected.
The next one came alarmingly quickly after the last, and far more accurately, forcing the two to separate as it landed between them, keeping them from closing the distance any further as they instead sought cover to engage the infantry that were targeting them. Max had to get in close with his shotgun, but it left him reasonably safe from the wraith, as it couldn't fire at him without hitting friendlies, so it instead turned its attention to Ariel. She sought what cover she could, but it was remarkable how little could stand up to an oversized ball of plasma, and mobility soon proved to be her best defense, along with a few bursts of plasma rifle fire to discourage any troops that tried to attack her. The attack on the tank had all but fallen apart, but they were drawing a lot of attention, and the benefits of that became rapidly clear as a banshee shrieked by overhead, plasma lancing down at the wraith and a fuel rod bomb destroying the last covenant emplacement still standing as it tried to get a bead on either of the Spartans.
The wraith was largely unharmed, but it was distracted, spinning to track the airborne vehicle, and leaving the two Spartans with an opening to get close. Max arrived first, a running jump landing him atop the vehicle, hastily drawing a grenade from his collection and aiming to find a spot to stick it where it would do some damage. Sensing a distracted target, a combat form made to attack, leaping atop the tank with the Spartan and lashing out with a twisted limb, its freakish strength enough to knock Max off of the tank, and following him off. Oblivious to its peril, the wraith shifted to lob a mortar skywards, gliding over Max's prone form and crushing the combat form that had attacked him in the process, a fact he was willing to at least be marginally thankful for.
By that point, Ariel had arrived, and had taken the cue from Max's strategy, ascending onto the tank and emptying her plasma rifle into the hatch until it overheated, to frustratingly little effect, other than an uncomfortable amount of heat venting from the rifle. Focused as she was, she almost missed the "Catch!" yelled by Max, turning in time to see a blue projectile flying at her head. Snatching it from the air, she quickly identified it as a plasma grenade, igniting it and jamming it into a vulnerable looking spot on the tank before throwing herself clear.
The grenade detonated moments later, the explosion catching something of critical importance, as it was followed by two or three more, elevating the damage from taking the tank out of commission to destroying it entirely. Overhead, Roaven's aircraft flew by, taking potshots at stragglers, mostly aiming to give Max and Ariel time to recover and run for the remaining banshees. Whatever threats were left on the ground could sort themselves out, none of the three of them feeling particularly guilty over leaving the few surviving covenant to the mercy of the Flood.
The exterior of the landing platform was guarded by a squadron of sentinels, but the plasma cannons on the banshees made short work of them, debris and wreckage sent spiraling away, smoking and sparking, to litter the canyon floor below. That seemed to be the extent of the defenses, however, though it didn't stop the Spartans from sweeping the room as they entered, fanning out to ensure that no unpleasant surprises were waiting.
"Clear!" Max announced, heading to the center of the room from the far end, having swept around the right side of the rather expansive chamber, looking over the last of the phase-pulse generators.
"Clear." Ariel echoed, following Max in from the far end, though she had swept around the left instead.
"No contacts on sensors. Just snow and wreckage." Dresden noted, with a sense of satisfaction that might lead one to believe he had personally seen to destroying the sentinels, flood, and covenant.
"Roaven, keep an eye on the door. Ariel, we've been using your armor to serve as a makeshift EMP…." Shiro noted, explaining in short, though perhaps not quite succinct detail what she'd need to do as Roaven made his way back to where they had entered, just in case any threats decided to join them.
The distinct noise and feel of a lot of energy being displaced behind him confirmed the final generator was destroyed, or neutralized, at the least, a sentiment echoed by his AI a moment later. "We have been able to locate the crash site of the Pillar of Autumn, but-" He added.
"We need the Captain's codes to overload the reactor. We've got his location narrowed down, but we need transport." Takeshi clarified.
"Right. Well, we have the banshees, let's get mounted up and go." Max nodded, making for the entrance from where he stood at Ariel's side.
"No time." Dresden scoffed. "We're going to take a page out of the bastard's book himself. Monitor has a teleportation grid. We can pull enough energy from your armor to use it."
"But we're only going to do this once. To be safe." Shiro added. Between this and the EMP, they were understandably worried that too much stress was being placed upon the systems of their MJLONIR armor, even for how robust it was. "So…get ready." There was nothing to hold onto and no real way for them to brace, so instead of wasting time on platitudes, the three AI merely commenced the process, familiar yellow rings engulfing each of the Spartans in turn as they were whisked away from the generator room, off to hopefully reunite with the Captain, who had purportedly been captured, at least according to the distress call they had heard in the swamp. It was becoming a bit of a habit with the man, but no one was perfect.
