Epilogue : The Returning Deception
Time to end this fanfic… I'll be tying up some loose plot threads here and there while setting up the next act. Without further ado, let's do this…
Archer Holden reclined back in his armchair as reports of imminent repairs and progress assessments start flowing right through over the past week. Ever since Isaac's grand escape with the help of the Kronostyl-2 and a non-explosive nuclear round crafted from a pilfered nuke, his 'organization' had been hard at work in repairing the damage from said grandiose escape, prepping their forces for their inevitable encounter and scanning random planets in search of the elusive crystal with the aid of the newly commissioned Hyperion II in their ranks. His eyes glazed past yet another report as the doors leading to his room swung open to reveal James Raynor standing in the middle of the doorway.
"Is this a bad time?" he asked as his head nodded towards the mountain of paperwork that Holden was figuratively buried underneath.
"No, please have a seat." He gestured towards a comfortable-looking armchair just across his desk. Nodding in approval, the rugged figure took his place opposite him and leaned forward before speaking.
"Thank you." He graciously thanked his host.
"No trouble. We're brothers in arms now. So, what brings you here today? Aside from the obvious…" Archer queried with a slightly raised brow. It was unwarranted, mind. James and occasionally Sarah would come in every day at the same interval and request an update on their progress in their search for the Kronostyl-2. Each day only brought them only disappointment and Archer did not enjoy observing this hiccup in their well-laid plans anymore than they did.
"No. No. I'm well aware of the answer I might receive from you on the matter." James quickly disapproved of the notion he had undoubtedly planted in his head.
"Well, then. What troubles your mind?" Holden asked politely, his interest piqued.
"I just wanted to thank you."
"For what?"
"For helping my crew rebuild our ship. For giving us a chance to end our own nightmare and showing us Isaac's true nature before he could hurt us."
"As I recall, you did pretty remarkably on that last bit. Most of his victims rarely figure out the truth before…." Holden trailed off, his words caught in his throat but the meaning clear as rain. James merely nodded at this compliment.
"Well, thanks anyway partner. The least we can do is aid you in stopping this madman before he strikes again."
"In that, we are in agreement." Holden reached into his own private supply underneath his desk, prying loose from its holdings a bottle of aged wine. He uncorked the bottle and expertly poured its contents into two glasses, offering one to the leader before him. James graciously accepted and in accordance with Holden raised his glass, his hand held high.
"May our path see great fortune." Archer toasted.
"And may our goals be seen true." James finished. Both men downed their liquid courage within one gulp, smacking their lips as the wine poured down their throats. Pleasantly, James rose from his seat and gave a curt nod to Holden before disappearing behind the doors. Archer smirked and grinned in his chair, grateful for the faith his new comrades placed in him. Ever since their entrance into the fold, they had served a great purpose. In exchange for their help in modifying and upgrading their arsenal and rebuilding their ship from scratch, they assisted in any way possible. Just two days ago, he had finally witnessed the terror that Sarah Kerrigan instilled in the hearts of their enemies as they dealt with the remnants of the now-fractured Dominion Empire, barely a shadow of its former glory. In a way, he was a little meek at the prospect. After all, they would soon outlive their uselessness. Just as Arcturus Mengsk did five days ago…
FLASHBACK
Terrence watched as Archer stood ramrod stiff against a window overlooking the vastness of space itself, essentially a space devoid of any light or air. It was weird looking into the abyss of the final frontier. If anyone had told him back home that space travel was possible within the next 20 years or so, he'd have laughed his own behind off at the mere thought of it. Yet here he was, in the service of the Father and the Holy God. And there was nowhere he'd rather be…
"Is the prisoner away?" Archer asked expectantly of Terrence.
"Yes, Father. He has just been released from his holdings upon his entrance of his transport. If our instincts are correct, he will soon activate the FTL drive to move towards his native land." Terrence answered without hesitation.
"Good. Everything is going according to plan." Archer mused while fingering a barely concealed detonator in his priest robes. Terrence did not question nor did he even conceive the idea. Whatever the Holy God willed, he would follow. Yet, he figured one or two questions would not be amiss.
"If I may, Father…" he began.
"Yes?" came the reply with a polite tone.
"Do you think it wise to have destroyed his fleet, Father? I presume that their arms could have been useful."
"Yes, they would have. But I saw more strength in the people aboard that vessel than the fool could ever muster in his lifetime. I merely aided them in their time of need." Holden gave an evil smile as the words passed his venomous tongue.
"And what of them, Father? Have they served their purpose?"
"Hardly. I see a great partnership with them. Imagine this, my child. Our greatest allies turned against the foolhardy Isaac who still foolishly believed at one point that there existed a chance to turn him to his side. Now? Now he'll be forced to fight against them forcibly and we need not show our hand too soon. So yes, I see them brimming with potential in our sanctuary. Perhaps the Holy God may not see it. In that case, I shall fulfill his wishes as soon as this is done. Until then, they are indeed important."
"If you decree it so, Father."
"I do not decree, child. I preach. That is all…" Archer corrected Terrence's statement. As he watched the tiny craft slowly vanish into the night sky, his fingers squeezed on the remote. A flashing red light on the end of the remote signaled the end for the stricken vessel. No doubt that Arcturus Mengsk in his final moments would see his life flash before his eyes. A ball of barely noticeable fire flared in the empty space, bringing a sadistic grin upon Archer Holden's face. May his endeavors be successful indeed…
END FLASHBACK
Dust. More red dust. Nothing had changed. Granted, it had only been a month or so since the victory on Char yet it felt like an eternity for Sarah Kerrigan. As her eyes scanned the battlefield, she could almost picture the colony that could have been built here. Now, it'd be nothing more than a barren wasteland. Littered with the stains of her crimes and the blood that ensued from the chaos that once reigned for the better part of four years. Sarah did not come here to relive it again. On the contrary, she came here to hold on to one last crime. The rest she had already let go…
Her mind flashed through the last week or so, cooperating with the White Phoenix. At the center of her attention was the confrontation with her sworn nemesis, Arcturus Mengsk. Against all odds and all expectations, not only did she have the man in her sights but he was pretty much handed to her on a silver platter. At that point, she felt nothing but rage, contempt and pure anger at the shell of an old man long past his prime. Archer had explained that his men seized Mengsk during a routine meeting to discuss further terms. Looking over him back then was exhilarating. Bloodied, bruised and battered both physically and mentally, he looked utterly pathetic staring back at James and Sarah. Her mind back then wanted to pull the trigger and end his miserable life.
Yet the more the thought followed her train of pondering, the more her gun lowered, surprising both herself and Raynor. Hadn't she wanted to kill the SOB for what he did to her? Wouldn't she enjoy it? 'No, you wouldn't because he's as much responsible for what you've become as you are.' Her mind realized in the heat of the moment. At that point, she knew she could not kill him. She just couldn't blame him. Sure he's done some awful things to her but so did she. Neither side could claim the moral high ground. "You're not worth killing." was the words she summed up to Mengsk as she left with James in tow. She moved on, like anyone should.
Now, here she was on Char standing above a makeshift grave she had erected outside the cave where James had found her after the activation of the artifact. A crude stone gravestone dotted the mound of earth sitting before her, marking the corpse's final resting place. Her eyes glanced across the markings she had carved using her serrated blade. The inscription read as follows:
Here lies Maxwell Holmes Kerrigan
Son of Patrick and Elaine
2470 – 2504
A loving son and a caring brother
So shall he remain to the end of his days in the heavenly plane
Sarah turned her gaze to the dog tags clutched tightly in her balled-up fist, his name proudly emblazoned with his initials and stained by the blood he spilt in the name of redemption for his little sister. The cold metal was the last reminder of her greatest misdeed, her final crime against her own family. And the floodgates opened and she burst into tears at the mere thought of it. She hugged the tombstone with her arms, weeping and letting her tears wet the lifeless stone of her making. 'I'm sorry. I'm so sorry.' She kept on mumbling amidst periods of near-constant crying and howled screams into the air as she cursed fate for dealing such a shitty hand to her. She had almost nothing left. Jim was a lover, a shoulder to cry on. That was all well and good but nothing compared to family. She had a chance at one. She had it right in her grasp. Now she felt more alone than ever and she could blame no-one but herself.
Wiping tears from her tear-stained eyes, images of her father and mother featured prominently in her mind. With her neural inhibitor kept in check and almost 100% deactivated thanks to the White Phoenix, she began to remember much of the childhood memories she suppressed. Yet try as she might, she just could not conjure even one memory of her brother. Only the end remained clear and it was not a memory Sarah wished to use to remember him. So she imagined, picturing a happy family lining up to take photos on the children's birthdays. Of times spent in the park playing with her loving brother. Of days staring lovingly into the eyes of her mother and father as they spoiled her rotten with cool toys and presents during the holidays. One picturesque moment stood out for her though.
"Hey, how's my Louise? Huh? How's my little girl?" her father cooed as he juggled the baby in the embrace of his arms.
"Stop it, Patrick. You'll confuse the little thing." She playfully joked.
"Come on, honey. Can't I call her that?" he moaned in the same tone.
"You named Maxwell. I get to call her Sarah." She scolded her husband before pulling him into a deep kiss.
No one has called her by that anymore. Not even Jim himself and he knew more secrets than most people. She pictured calling her brother in the same manner with perhaps a scathing mention about the famous fictional detective from her father when he tucked them into bed. As the sun set down and the moon started to rise, she placed a single palm upon the grave and spoke to it.
"I promise from this day forth, every good deed I do, I do in your name, brother. I swear to remember what you did in my name and to honor your wishes. Wait for me, brother. I'll be here beside you when the end comes for me and I'll join you willingly in wherever the afterlife takes me. Farewell, brother." And the breeze flourished its wings, covering the ground with mist and the figure of a soul partially redeemed finally stepping away to face the future…
"Isaac, wake up." spoke the voice straightly. Isaac let his eyes fling open. Isaac was back in the temporal space of the wormhole, its purplish hues still coloring the landscape. His body hurtled at lightning speed down the eternal tornado, awaiting his arrival at their next location.
"What? Can't I get some beauty sleep?" he groaned as he tried to lighten the mood.
"You dare joke at a time like this?! If you did not notice, we're in the shithole right about now!" the voice exclaimed exasperatedly.
"Yeah, I know alright? I'd rather not deal with it now." He stubbornly defended; drawing a strained look from the figure as the image mentally projected itself in his head.
"THIS IS NOT SOME GAME, ISAAC! You can't just skip your turn or reset a checkpoint here. We're in a tight situation now and it will get worse if you don't do something!" The voice only angered Isaac who countered with his own scathing remark.
"We've already been in a f #&ing mess for a long time, my friend. What do you mean, we're in a f*&!ing situation!? We've been living the shittiest life ever since that verdict…." Isaac trailed off, his memory flashing back to that tragic day.
FLASHBACK
Isaac sat chained in a metal chair as the room around him started to fill with people, who murmured tales of the man in the center. Isaac did not even bother to try moving. The chains were wrapped so tightly around his arms and legs that they dug painfully into his skin, scraping the dead cells on it and was just about ready to start tearing into his pain receptors. Before him sat a panel of his peers, dressed in military garb and assorted clothing. They all wore stern outlooks on their faces and were already readying their papers laid out before them. Isaac looked pleadingly at one figure sitting in the shadows, almost as if he knew that person.
"Order, order." The shadowy figure began, commanding the audience to take its seats. Silence followed for several minutes before she began.
"We are here today to determine the sentencing of Isaac Eisenhower for his crimes against humanity. We have all come to an 'impartial' term and we would like to offer Mr. Eisenhower a final chance to avoid further retribution." The figure callously echoed into the great hall.
"Please don't do this…" he pleaded but received only silence from the council.
"Isaac Eisenhower, you stand before a jury of your fellow people accused of the crimes of high treason, aiding the enemy, plotting with the enemy, mass slaughter in the first degree, assault, discharge of firearms, etcetera. How do you plead?" the figure read out from her paper. Isaac simply continued to plead, despite the fact that most of the charges against him were mere works of fiction. They wanted him to die, plain and simple. There was no avoiding that fact.
"Please, I beg of you. Please don't do this."
"By order of this council, I henceforth sentence you to death. You shall be shot by the council gathered here today at noon sharp two days from now. This court is adjourned." The figure plainly stated, causing Isaac to pale even further. As the guards led him away in chains through an adjacent door, he cried out one last time. Yet it was not to prove his innocence. It was for something else.
"PLEASE! I BEG YOU! DON'T DO THIS!" he screamed at the top of his voice. The figure spun around once, gave a angry glare and stormed off in the opposite direction as Isaac was dragged into the darkness of the cell he now frequented.
END FLASHBACK
As the thought echoed throughout his subconscious, Isaac felt his hands and legs touch solid ground or rather cold, chilly metal. Isaac blinked once and found himself looking upon an empty room with a weird chamber just right behind him. Isaac slowly rose to his feet as he began to take in his new surroundings. 'Hmm, must have finished the journey while I was deep in thought.' Isaac's matching blue irises took in the room in total. The chamber behind him had a glass casing that felt eerily chilly at Isaac's touch with his bruised fingers. The tips of his fingers scrawled over it with precision, the metal and every nook and cranny passing them as he let his eyes wander elsewhere. Directly opposite him sat a broken power box, its wires frayed and torn from its rubber tubing, exposing the copper wiring beneath it. Aside from that, the room felt wholly uninteresting. But one look back at the chamber's lower corner changed everything.
Isaac reeled back as his eyes feasted upon the symbol embedded onto the chamber, a mark of its owner. Staggering back, he stumbled and fell to the ground in a fit of shock and sheer terror. "No. No. No. Not here. Anywhere but here." He mumbled frantically. Rubbing his eyes and blinking them rapidly did little to allay the pain. As the symbol became clearer, he took it to be true. He edged closer to it and his fingertips brushed it several times, confirming the truth at last.
It was a symbol of an eagle with its wings spread to each side, wielding a futuristic shied in the middle. Etched in white were the initials UNSC, the trademark of the United Nations Space Command. Isaac's body froze stiff as the revelation kicked him figuratively in the stomach, its meaning too hard to stomach.
He had returned home. The home of his exile….
And with that, ACT 1 is done. Finito. Ended. Finished. I'll be moving on to ACT 2 pretty soon after I outline a plotline for my second fanfic. Look for this next act in the Halo section. To all my loyal viewers, thanks for reading and if you like this fanfic, be sure to review, like and favorite it as much as possible. Make your voice heard, people. There's no point in being silent… Till next time, see ya…