Chapter X
After spending two weeks trekking across the surface of the planet and discovering a strange unnatural land formation which was marked for later observation, Master Chief and Red Squad finally arrived at Battle Creek . . .
Master Chief had decided to wait until nightfall to descend into the pit. The team had been mentally preparing for the possibility of a life or death battle. When dusk had arrived, Master Chief sent Lock-jaw into Battle Creek to scout the Red Fortress and report on the defenses. Lock-jaw, who had received a light-bending camouflage unit attached to his organic armor, activated the unit and disappeared from sight. Master Chief finished readying his Battle Rifle and looked over his squad. Grif had finished adjusting his sniper rifle, Donut and Simmons were inspecting each other's Sub Machine Guns, Caboose was fiddling with his M6D Magnum handgun and Lopez was practicing aiming a strange, blue plasma weapon.
The Chief walked over to Lopez to ask about the device.
"Hey, what is tha-"
Master Chief stopped mid-sentence as the weapon came into better view. Images of aliens that the Chief had decided were Elites, the ones that looked like Lock-jaw, firing identical weapons flashed in his mind. More images of himself using such weapons, even two at the same time appeared. Then, stranger still, images of primate-like aliens firing a red variation of the weapon entered his mind as well. The flood of memories stopped and the Chief regained his composure. Lopez was looking at him with his head tilted to the side.
"Are you alright, sir?" he asked.
"I'm fine. I just . . . thought I left the stove on at the base for a second."
"I made sure it was off before we left, sir," Lopez reassured him.
"Oh, thank you. Now, what is that weapon you have there?"
"This is a weapon designed by O'Malley. It fires bolts of plasma at an accelerated rate. After continuous fire, the weapon overheats and shuts down automatically to cool off."
"Interesting. Very . . . interesting." the Chief said. He turned and walked to the cliff edge.
Master Chief had been having dreams that played similar images in his mind. He assumed they were memories, since he was in all of them. They depicted events ranging from battles on a strange alien ring world to battles on a planet called Earth. There was an Earth where he was at presently, but it wasn't the same Earth that appeared in his dreams. In all of these visions, there was always a feeling of impending doom that overshadowed him before he awoke, like an enemy that couldn't be stopped. Some of the dreams showed him the purple holographic woman, Cortana. He didn't know the connection he had with the woman, but he knew she was important to him in his past. The dreams had become less frequent, and for that the Master Chief was thankful. He was able to focus on his mission and devote his full attention to the matters at hand.
As the Chief was contemplating what the next course of action would bring, Lock-jaw appeared next to him. The Chief looked down at the alien and smiled to himself. Lock-jaw was already holding Andy and was ready to give his report.
"Alright, Lock-jaw, how are the defenses around the Fortress?"
Lock-jaw honked and blarged his reply. Andy translated as he reported.
"He says there are no defenses around the base. The only defenses in the base are the Red soldiers." Andy translated. "He says that a Red soldier was reading off info from a sensor node, but he was reading the information all weird. The Red guy said that 'nomads have traveled here from the North', He guesses that's us, and that 'they bear the markings of our God', which he guesses is referring to the red stripes on our armor. He says that the Red guy said 'they have come to liberate us from the bondage of the infidels', which is probably referring to us wiping out all the Blues."
"Well, I don't see any sensory equipment. If it is housed in their base, it must be incredibly powerful if it was able to pick out the red markings on our armor," the Chief said.
Lock-jaw began honking and blarging again and Andy translated.
"He says that the sensor node has no visual receptors. Instead it has a special function to locate the colors red and blue. Other than that, the only information they have on outsiders is that they exist."
"How very odd," the Chief commented. He turned to the rest of the team. "Alright, Doc, you stay up here with Grif and Caboose and tell me if you see any activity. The rest of you, follow me."
Doc, Grif and Caboose remained on top of the cliff while the rest of the squad hopped down onto the strange rock formation that formed a quarter of a circle. They slowly made their way down the formation and walked up to the Red Fortress. A lone red soldier was guarding the entrance.
"Halt! Who goes there!" the grunt replied in a high-pitched squeaky voice.
"I am the Master Chief, leader of the Red forces at Red Army Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha," the Chief announced. "Requesting permission to enter."
"Have you come to seek the wisdom of the Flag? Are you here to marvel at its incredible flappiness? Were you drawn by its divine power? Or are you here to desecrate this holy ground with Blue evil?" the grunt asked.
". . . The first one," the Chief answered.
"Oh, ok," the Grunt stepped aside and allowed Red Squad to enter. Master Chief allowed the others to pass him. He then opened a private Channel to Grif.
"Grif, this is the Master Chief. We have gained access to the Red Fortress. Keep your eyes peeled for any Blue activity."
"Whatever," Grif answered.
Master Chief followed the others to the rear room where the Red Zealots had erected a shrine honoring the Flag, which sat atop the altar, flapping in the slight breeze. A Red Zealot stepped out from beneath the altar. He had gold stripes painted on his arms, legs and helmet. He appeared to be a Prophet of some sort.
"I have foreseen your arrival. Come, we have prepared a banquet in honor of your presence," the Red Prophet said.
"What of the Blue forces? Shouldn't we be prepared in case they attack?" the Master Chief asked.
The word 'blue' made the Prophet shudder, but he brushed aside the outsider's ignorance.
"The Blues do not attack us at night, nor do we attack them. We are able to rest at night, and prepare ourselves for the battles that are fought during the day."
The Chief nodded and opened the private channel to Grif again. "Change of plans," the Chief said. "Nobody attacks at night, so you guys can come down here. They have a feast set up for us. Make sure you leave the emergency equipment up there along with the flags. no telling how these nuts would react if they saw a double of their 'God' floating around."
"Sure thing, Chief. We'll be down in a sec," Grif responded happily. Master Chief closed the channel and turned to the Prophet. "More of my squad is coming to join us. They were protecting the Fortress from a possible attack, but since we are safe from hostilities, they have decided to form up with the rest of my squad."
"Good, good, the more the merrier!" the Prophet said happily.
In a matter of minutes, Grif, Caboose and Doc had arrived and all were seated at a massive table, the Red flag was placed in the center of the table for all to see.
"So," the Prophet said while devouring the leg of a giant bird, "I must inquire as to why you are here. The last visitors we had brought the Anti-Flag to these lands, so we are always cautious about new guests." The Chief had noticed. There were at least two guards stationed at every door. From what he could see, the Chief assumed that all who were eating with them were either high-ranking soldiers or religious men. The lowest soldiers were probably not permitted to join in such events.
"I'll be frank with you," the Chief said. "We need your help."
"We would be happy to provide you with shelter for as long as you need to stay," the Prophet offered.
"Not that kind of help. We require your assistance destroying an evil Artificial Intelligence system known as O'Malley."
The Prophet stopped chewing his food and slowly set his fork and knife down. All of the Red Zealots sitting at the table looked at one another with fear, dread and horror etched into their faces. The guards at the door quickly began glancing around the room, as if O'Malley would appear out of thin air and slay them all.
"Master Chief, we have shown you nothing but kindness during your stay. What would possess you to speak such heresies so blatantly?" the Prophet inquired. His tone suggested that he was more curious than angry, unlike the rest of the Zealots seated at the table.
"O'Malley has taken over the Sergeant at Blood Gulch Outpost Alpha. We need to get him back," the Chief said.
"While I offer my sincerest apologies for your most unfortunate loss, I simply cannot send my men to fight the Demon. You see, when the Flag brought us to this place, neither the Reds nor the Blues could find our Flags. We allied ourselves with them, if only to have them help us find our God. We thought we had found something that would lead us to the Flag at our Frozen Fortress, but before we could examine it, the Demon arrived with his white minion. At that point, we thought he was a savior, one who would lead us to our Flag. He defeated the black warrior and his minion took her away. The Demon then led us here, where he filled our heads with terrible thoughts of betrayal. The Reds turned on the Blues, and our peace was shattered. The Demon slayed us all and left. Now, after only several months of freedom, you ask us to go with you to find the Demon? I cannot agree to such a suicidal attempt; it is one I am not willing to risk."
"I'm not asking you to do this out of the kindness of your heart. I am willing to repay the favor."
"And how do you plan to do that, hmm?"
"If you help us stop O'Malley, we'll kill every single Blue in this entire valley."
"You wouldn't be the first. The Blues practice a religion similar to ours. Their Flag gives them the power to rise from the dead, like ours does. Killing all of them would be exactly that; killing all of them. I understand the rest of the galaxy lives without such power, but it exists here. Killing them does nothing."
"Maybe not, but destroying their flag would."
"You . . . I hope you're serious," the Prophet nearly choked on his food. "What you speak is blasphemy. The Blue's Flag and Our Flag have been rivals since their creation. Destroying it is not as simple as killing its followers."
"Trust me. I can destroy that flag and I will. If I succeed, will you agree to assist me?"
"I will send all able bodied troops to fight under your command, including myself, if you destroyed the Blue Flag. We would be forever indebted to you."
"It's settled then. Tomorrow, we attack the Blues, kill every last one of them, and destroy their flag, ending the Blue tyranny once and for all!"
Every Zealot in the room roared with approval. The Chief smiled. The speech had been a little out of character, but it was necessary if he was to gain the support of these Zealots. Tomorrow would prove to be an interesting day indeed.
To Be Continued.