Chapter 9: Pinned

The Phantom rumbled slightly as it sped in the counterspin direction of Halo, passing over fields and forests that grew increasingly colder and gradually passed into snowfall. It was pure and white, quite the beautiful spectacle if one could spare the time to enjoy it; unfortunately, Balask 'Zakamee had other things on his mind.

Sallius and Briareus were piloting the dropship, leaving the Senior Officer to contemplate his team's assignment. The Arbiter had lowered the shield to the Quarantine Zone to allow access to the Sacred Icon, that device which would begin the Great Journey, but a complication had arisen. Now freed from its prison, the Flood had rallied and begun attacking in force. Recalling the horror of fighting the Parasite on the last Halo, the Covenant had ordered all Special Operations teams to converge on the Quarantine Zone and halt the Flood's advance.

A shudder passed through his mind, remembering his encounters with the Flood on the first Halo. Even though he had been part of an armored unit, he and his comrades had barely escaped each encounter.

"We're approaching our assigned sector," Sallius said, guiding the Phantom.

"Excellent," Balask muttered, "Thank you, Sally."

The Brute growled loudly, but Balask merely turned and entered the troop compartment, chuckling to himself. He regarded the team... no, his team now. His hand unconsciously rose to touch the Etching on his armor's breast but he squelched the reaction. It would do no good to grieve for his dead commander now.

"Are we almost there?" Opom asked.

Balask nodded. "Yes. Is everyone prepared?"

They all checked their equipment. Both Kasa 'Yonomee and himself were carrying two Plasma Rifles each, and the Senior Officer carried his human shotgun while the younger had his Carbine. Sesep had his turret but also had a pair of Plasma pistols in a satchel. Opom carried a Fuel Rod Gun, and Nunot, as the medic, carried only his Plasma Pistol but dragged along a lot of extra medical supplies to treat punctures and burns and flush the nervous system in case an infected soldier could be saved. Two Jackals also accompanied the team, carrying a beam rifle each. In addition to their personal armaments they had four heavy deployable plasma turrets, a crate of extra grenades, and a deployable lookout tower.

"We have arrived," Briareus announced over the Phantom's COM.

"Is the drop zone clear?"

"One minute," the Brute replied, and the soldiers in the bay could feel the persistent thudding of plasma turrets on the underside of the ship firing. After a while they stopped. "You're clear. Drop now, before the Flood returns."

One at a time they dropped off the ship, Kasa and Balask forced to make return trips in order to get the heavy turrets down; in addition, the Phantom carried a deployable tower. They quickly established a tight and contained perimeter, centered on the tower they had set up; the two sniper Jackals and the Fuel Rod Gun-toting Opom had taken refuge in it, receiving a better and more unobstructed view of the battlefield. The space was very much enclosed, with only a small opening into a small valley and the massive wall of the Forerunner containment sector breaking the otherwise steep and natural-looking walls of the area.

"Stay on your guard!" Balask called out as he patrolled the perimeter, gazing out into the twisted and distorted landscape. His advice turned out to be well-timed: almost immediately, tiny bulbs of Infection Forms rushed out of holes in the ground, charging for the encampment. The snipers held their fire, knowing that such pinpoint accuracy weapons would be useless; Opom opened up with the Fuel Rod Gun, sending large burning blobs of green plasma into the horrific creatures' ranks and causing the tower's hovering balcony to sway. Kasa and Balask each jumped into a turret, Nunot and Sesep doing the same, and all fired into the onslaught of Flood. At first the Senior Officer feared that they would be overwhelmed, but thanks to the overlapping fields of fire provided by the turrets and the overhead bombardment by the Fuel Rod Gun the team successfully weathered three full waves of Infection Forms before the creatures stopped pouring up out of the depths.

Nal the Jackal, one of the snipers, gazed through his scope. His partner, Yek, did the same, both of them surveying the surrounding area. After a thorough search, Nal leaned over and called down to Balask: "No sign of the Flood, Excellency!"

Balask nodded. "Everyone, take a quick break to reload your weapons and calm your nerves before the Parasite regroups." They did so, Nunot passing by each soldier and administering capsules filled with a weak sedative before returning to his turret. Despite his lack of self-confidence the little Grunt did his job well.

A full fifteen minutes passed while Blessed Unit waited on edge for the renewed assault, but it did not come. Aside from a few faint blips on the edges of the Elites' motion trackers and the occasional spotting of a distant Infection Form through the snipers' scopes, all was quiet.

That is, until an ungodly shriek shattered the silence and tore into their souls, sending shivers down their spines and chilling each soldier to his very core.

"What in the name of the Revered and Numinous Forerunner was that?" Kasa whispered fearfully, nervously turning his turret this way and that. Balask had to admit, to himself, that he didn't know; never had he heard such a terrifying sound.

It was the start of Hell, as they came to realize very quickly.

——

Field Commander Yarna 'Orgalmee entered the tactical room on High Charity, immediately impressed with what he saw: wall-to-wall displays that had up-to-the-second information on units and teams deployed nearby, holographic maps of areas of conflict with representatives of friendly and hostile forces, dossiers on each foe encountered, and most importantly a wide simulator in the middle of the room where commanders such as himself could put in possible strategies and see how well their AIs believed they would work. Several Elites, Jackals, and Grunts attended to the stations in various colors of armor, all deeply involved with the current conflict. Nodding, he wandered over to another golden-armored Elite who was pouring over recent battlefield telemetry.

"What's the situation?" he asked, peeking over the commander's shoulder.

"Flood containment breach," the other replied, not looking up. "The Arbiter was forced to deactivate the Library's shield during his mission, and it had the unforeseen consequence of releasing the Parasite."

Fighting down the wave of revulsion that accompanied the Arbiter's name he glanced at some of the weapons data. "Have our troops been outfitted with the proper tools to exterminate the creatures?"

The other nodded. "Plasma and Fuel Rod Guns only, some Carbines."

"Energy Rifles will probably also be ineffective."

This comment gave the other pause. "Some of the snipers have been equipped with those."

Yarna shook his head. "We'll have to hope for the best then."

He toured the rest of the room, observing tactical data on the different battles taking place around the Library, the source of the containment breach. Recalling his own experiences with the Flood he advised the other commanders on which strategies would be the most effective. Those who questioned his orders met his eyes, cold and hardened pits of hatred. They quickly came to understand that, when faced with the Parasite, the new Field Commander 'Orgalmee was vicious and merciless. In fact, only a direct order from the High Council of Masters kept him from just bombarding the entire area from space.

However, his unwavering hostility softened when he spotted data on one team: Oriné 'Fulsamee's Spec Ops team, which had also been deployed to the Infested Zone. Despite all his horrific memories of the first Halo, he remembered his camaraderie with Oriné and Rurut in a shining light. They had been fast friends, the three of them, and all three had served under Ionill 'Ongyomee in a Spec Ops team.

He watched the mission data scroll in, both information on weapons discharges and a live-feed to a Jackal's visual recorder. He also squinted his eyes at the blurry shapes that moved into view, several of them, running and leaping their way towards Blessed Unit.

"By the Prophets, what are those?" asked the Operator who had been watching the feed, but Yarna already knew too well what they were.

But what are they doing here?

——

The horrifying screeching tapered off, but in its place were terrifying forms: bipedal bodies, thin and lanky, some with round heads snapped backwards and others upright, but they all had tentacles sprouting from their arms. They leaped impossible distances in a single bound, landing directly in front of the turrets. Balask barely managed to get his wits together long enough to fire, burning down the Combat Form with the plasma bombardment.

Quickly the others shook off their own fear and shock and began firing, tearing into the grotesque monsters before them. The torrent of Infection Forms returned, spilling forth from every shadow and rushing towards the defensive line. More Combat Forms leaped up from the depths, some bearing weapons and unloading them at the group.

Those are infected humans, Balask noted as there was a clatter of an SMG and several bullets pinged off the shield of the turret. And they're using human weapons! How is this possible?

A Jackal cried a warning to the group, but it was too late: three rocket launchers belched puffs of smoke and high-explosive missiles at the group. One went high and impacted inside the tower while the other two homed in on the Grunts' turrets. Nunot dived out of his seat, avoiding the blast entirely, while Sesep dodged but got peppered with shrapnel. Kasa and his senior refocused their fire on the area where the rockets had fired from, not willing to let them get off more shots.

"Medic!" Opom's voice rang out from the tower, and quickly Nunot was on his feet and floating up the gravity lift after making sure Sesep wasn't too badly hurt.

Balask gave the soldier a bit of time. "Status, Nunot!" he cried out over the sounds of gunfire.

"Both Jackals are down," the Grunt cried out to his commander, "one's wounded, the other dead. Opom's fine, but his Fuel Rod Gun's damaged." The Elite swore. Without the Fuel Rod Gun at their disposal they lacked the heavy weapon necessary to seriously cut down these numbers. With two of the plasma turrets destroyed, the remaining two couldn't hope to properly fend off the Flood.

He keyed his COM. "High Charity, this is Blessed Unit," Balask roared, the energy shield flaring red as several more shots ricocheted off the surface. "We need reinforcements! We are in danger of being completely overrun!"

——

Chaos had spread like wildfire throughout the tactical command center. The arrival of Combat Forms had been completely unexpected, the fact that they had all attacked simultaneously and they were comprised completely of infected humans not lending any manner of calm. Operators and officers alike were panicking, some trying to order full orbital bombardments despite the Prophets' strict order that the ring was not to be harmed.

Not bothering being pleasant, Yarna began organizing the panicking personnel. "Operators, stay focused," he ordered. "Return to your posts. Commanders, meet with me at the simulator." Somewhat embarrassed, they all did as they were told. A few Field Masters and Commanders, as well as a handful of Majors, crowded around the circular indent in the middle of the room, Yarna joining them.

Tapping a few buttons on a hovering control pad, the function changed to show a large representation of their forces on Halo. Another inputted a command and it focused on those stationed in the Infested Zone. "All right," he began, pointing at a large sector in the middle flashing red. "That is the Library itself. Pull all units currently stationed within there out at once; we cannot waste the resources to try and destroy this infestation at the source. We have neither the time nor firepower." He moved his finger to a line of uncolored landscape. "That valley so far has not been attacked. Reinforce it, send armored convoys through to restore this perimeter here." A circular motion outlined the place he was talking about. "That shall be our main line of defense. Inform the Ghosts to be cautious, they are poorly protected and the Parasite is devious indeed."

"What about Phantoms?" a Major spoke up.

"Use them as gunships. Load all dropships leaving High Charity with troops, supplies, and armor before sending them down, then assign them to bombard the Parasite."

"Excellency!" an Elite Operator called out from across the room. "Blessed through Virtuous Units are calling for reinforcements, and Blessed, Devout, Pious, and Reverent Units are requesting medical evacuations!"

"Send Phantoms to evacuate the wounded and have the city launch a wave of pods to each location," the Field Master ordered. He looked over the holographic landscape before him, praying all the soldiers would make it. So absorbed he became that he barely noted the report made that the Arbiter had broken through the Sentinel Wall at the same time that the pods rained down from the sky.

——

Seeing the Orbital Drop Pods powering through the atmosphere brought a sense of overpowering relief to Balask's heart. They had just repelled another wave, so the newcomers didn't find themselves surrounded by hostiles the second they came out of their pods.

Six Elites emerged, five wearing the same black armor as Balask and his team and the sixth wearing brilliant silver armor. The Senior Officer recognized him instantly.

"Excellency," he nodded towards Spec Ops Commander 'Vadumee.

"'Zakamee," Rtas replied, making his way up the slight slope to the middle of the encampment. As he went, he looked around; the black-armored Sangheili got the feeling he was looking for something in particular. "What is your status?"

Balask hopped from the turret. "One dead, two wounded. The Flood took out two of our plasma turrets. I've called for a medivac to get the wounded out of here, but I don't know how long it will take for High Charity to respond."

Rtas nodded. "Where is your commander?"

"Excellency?"

"Commander Oriné 'Fulsamee," said the wounded Sangheili. "This is his unit, is it not?"

"Excellency, Commander 'Fulsamee perished in battle on Earth," Balask said.

'Vadumee stared at him for a brief second, and then nodded somberly. "May the Forerunners watch over him," he said. After another moment, he turned to the five Elites that had come with him. "One of you, get up in the tower. The rest spread out and supplement those turrets." He turned back to Balask. "Those turrets must be preserved. They're our best chance at holding the Parasite back."

His orders were carried out quickly and efficiently, even though Nunot periodically bothered the Elite posted in the tower with assisting him in keeping the wounded Jackal alive. Occasionally it shrieked or cried out in pain, but the blood flow had stemmed and, for the moment, it seemed as if it would live.

The Flood returned in their usual swarm a minute or so later, but the squad was not caught unawares. A few infected Elites joined the ranks as well, but the curious majority of human Combat Forms was still present. The plasma turrets opened up and burned through the waves, and the Elites fired their own rifles to ward off the Infection Forms that made it through.

"Keep the fire heavy!" Rtas roared over the sounds of the guns. "Don't let them get close!" Off in the distance there was a puff of smoke, and immediately all the people on the ground scrambled for cover. The rocket struck the middle of the encampment, not hurting anyone but forcing the soldiers out from behind their cover and into the open. More Combat Forms jumped down to attack, with the rocket-wielding form still firing into the mass. The line that they had worked so hard to make and maintain was quickly broken up. Several Elites, realizing that it was close combat from here on out, activated their Energy Swords and began to melee their way through the waves of enemies.

The battle quickly degenerated from an organized defense into a brutal melee.

Balask, drawing his own sword, looked over the carnage and shivered. He doubted they could hold; their numbers were too little and their tactics were too desperate. He cleaved an attacking Combat Form in half and then swept the blade through a wave of Infection Forms. Several deformed Elites and humans began to rush him, but if he lunged with the sword then he would be surrounded; instead he pulled out his shotgun and emptied it at the incoming abominations, dropping almost the entire wave before he ran out of shells.

We are doomed, Balask had begun to lament when suddenly he heard several shots ring out. From a cave in the far earthen wall charged another group of Elites. They began carving away at the Flood from behind. This small break allowed 'Vadumee's and Balask's teams to regain their previous positions, Kasa and another Elite manning the remaining turrets. The new arrivals continued to fight their way through the Flood, eventually linking up with the Elites on the inside.

When they grew close, Balask felt his breath leave him. These soldiers were being led by the Arbiter himself, clad in ceremonial armor and clutching his energy sword in hand. He looked for all the worlds like one of the heroes of legend.

"Circular formation!" the Arbiter cried out, and immediately the Elites present jumped to the fortifications. There were two more waves, each heralded by the unholy shrieks of the Parasite, but with the combined leadership of both the Arbiter and Rtas they were successfully repelled.

Finally, there was silence. No Flood, no fighting, merely the snow falling around the soldiers. A collective sigh of relief was uttered as the sublime peace settled in and the faint sound of a Phantom's engine could be heard.

"Arbiter," the silver-armored 'Vadumee approached the ornate hero, "what are you doing here?" The Phantom appeared over the cliff walls and zoomed in to a hover. Immediately Balask's team got to work loading the wounded onto the craft and detaching the vehicles it had brought with it.

"At the center of this zoneis a Sacred Icon critical to the Great Journey," the Arbiter said in his baritone voice. "I must find it."

Rtas nodded, his hand balling into a fist. "We will cut into the heart of this infestation," he began, turning to the assembled troops, "retrieve the Icon, and burn any Flood that stand in our way!" All the Elites raised their voices in a glorious cry, eagerly anticipating the battle to come.

As the two heroes continued to converse, Balask turned to his team and issued the orders. "Kasa, you are to remain with me and the other Elites as we search for this Sacred Icon. The rest of you," he indicated the Grunts, "get on that Phantom and head back to High Charity. You have done all you can and deserve your rest."

Not bothering to argue, they saluted and rode the gravity lift up into the dropship that then sped up into the sky. The two remaining Elites from Blessed Unit turned and boarded a nearby Spectre, the younger manning the turret while the Senior Officer jumped behind the driving controls.

Kasa could not help himself. "Lead on, Arbiter!" he called out to the legendary warrior.