Time seemed to stand still around Amy. Muffled explosions sounded to the east, but their thunderous applause did not register in the Dragoons' mind. She continued to stare at Josh, silently cursing the obvious awkwardness of the moment.
Amy's father had lied, that was for sure. But why? Who was he protecting? Perhaps both of them. Processing cycles sped up within her core, and Amy wanted, needed to cry, but found herself incapable.
Was she supposed to be happy he was alive? Angry at her father's lies? Sadness her and Josh would no longer have a life together?
Kiersten had jogged up to Amy's former lover, and they began a quick debriefing on the situation. The fighting was quickly filtering down to small sects of Covenant forces, although they themselves seemed to be warring over… something.
More troops were coming in, and it looked as though New Mombasa -or what was left of it- would be back in human possession.
The battle above, however, seemed to still be active, as grotesque fireworks ignited and faded from ships exploding.
Josh seemed to be looking Kiersten over intently, studying her in fact. Amy switched off her synthesized persona, leaving only the blackened form of human-shaped Titanium-B.
Josh cannot know what has happened to me. I will not have him hurt the way I am.
Kiersten caught the gesture out of her periphery, then logged it into her memory to be quizzical of later.
Clarity began to take hold of Amy's mind, and the relief that Josh was actually alive took over. She was glad to see him again, their relationship be dammed.
Amy decided she would keep her father's lies to spare Josh from any more pain. The fact that his love was now some killing machine dreamt up by the one person Josh loathed more than anyone or anything would have to die as well.
"Phantoms incoming!" Robyn called out audibly so to alert the Marines as well. Amy looked to the North to see two Phantoms were on approach, although something didn't look right. Both appeared to be smoking.
---------------
"Keep firing E'Las! Burn the worthless brutes from the sky and spread their ashes over the human's world!" Akon could not think of a worse fate for any race as to have their final resting place to be among the miserable humans.
The small craft shuddered as it suffered a portside hit. A fire erupted from a navigation console as sparks arced along metal shards. The two SpecOps Grunts quickly doused the fire with a retardant.
"I do not know how much more this ship can take, Akon." Readouts became fuzzy and stabilized as an ominous indicator of impending failure.
"We must avenge my brother, E'Las! That Brute will pay!"
E'Las regarded Akon's comments with great annoyance. Surely their Phantom would not hold together much longer. What good would be served by their death?
Plasma continued to leap between the two ships as they each became more engulfed in flames, sections of their hulls heating and then boiling away.
Warning sounds blared throughout the cockpit as E'Las's Phantom lurched, then began to quickly descend toward the ground.
"Secure yourselves! Prepare for impact!" Akon shouted as he fought with the controls.
E'Las briefly looked to the Brute's Phantom, where heavy plumes of smoke continued to trail. He quickly looked back to the Phantom's targeting systems, as one of the reticules switched to red to indicate the target.
The young Sangheili quickly released what was assuredly the last volley of plasma the dropship would ever fire, and watched as it splashed into the side of the opposing Phantom, widening the hole that was present.
Liquid metal superheated by the repeated plasma strikes dripped off the Phantom, only to be cooled quickly by the air whipping around it as it fell to the ground. A true Purple Rain of jagged metal.
The Jackal pilot had apparently lost control, as the Brute's ship began to spin as if a football gracefully thrown by a skilled quarterback.
The Phantom's speed was becoming - or at least seemed - excessive as the ground rushed to meet them. E'Las grit his mandibles together as he tightened the grip on his seat.
The impact sent shockwaves throughout the hull, as it moaned and contorted to absorb the impact. What had been subtle arcs and curves on the ship's plating became jagged protrusions and folded sections that had entirely collapsed upon themselves.
The metal continued to fold as the ship skidded across earth; remnants of trees snapped and rocks were pulverized as the ship made hard contact with them.
Various yelps and grunts were heard as the crew was tossed about in their restraints. E'Las lost consciousness as something broke loose from the interior and smashed into his head.
The Phantom's remains impacted the side of a bank, sending the back end up into the air. Gravity then slammed it violently back down as the craft finally came to a stop.
---------------
"Alright Dragoons, we are splitting up. My team with half the Marines to check the wreckage in the East, Amy's team with the other half will check the West."
Amy cringed at her name being announced with Josh around. Still, it bothered her that he might go with Kiersten's group.
Amy looked upon Josh momentarily, although none of her features would give away her interests. He seemed to have recovered from his injuries well.
"Kiersten, I would prefer that Josh come with us." Amy couldn't actually decide if she liked the idea or not, but she felt that now she could keep Josh safe. She would fight until there was nothing left of her new body and then some to protect him. He would survive this damn war, even though she hadn't.
Amy also gained an appreciation for the armor's internal Comm links, and the discretion they offered.
"I'm afraid not, Amy. I noticed how you reacted when you switched your projection system off. I am not sure of the history here, but until I know what it is I won't jeopardize a mission by placing you two together."
"Whatever you say. M'am" Amy thought the comment's tone might annoy Kiersten, but she seemed to ignore it.
"Alright everyone, let's move out."
---------------
Dr. Wilkes looked over the twelve empty tables as a soft red light began to strobe the room. Another twelve Marines had been collected, and were ready to be loaded.
With a slight hiss of depressurization, the twelve tables seemed to dislodge themselves from the lab floor, and recess into what seemed to be an abyss below.
Solid panels slid together from nowhere and covered the holes the tables had occupied. As the last one closed, the red light shut off, announcing the floor was safe to walk across.
The viewing window to his right displayed a procession of the tables as they were slowly conveyed out into the center of the room below.
The Graveyard, as Dr. Wilkes non-affectionately called it, was roughly the size of a football field -a game the Edgar assumed would never be played again- and was dimly lit.
Dimly lit for a reason. Dr. Wilkes would rather not have chosen to look upon the room's contents at all. The scene reminded him of pictures he had seen in history books of bodies being piled indifferently on top of one another.
The pile had started out as neat bodies laid side by side, but the numbers coming in just didn't lend itself to organization.
The pile was continuous; making three sides of a square that covered the entire outer edges of the room below, save for the side that adjoined with the lab.
The bodies were chosen purely at random, with Amy as the exception of course. The thought of his little girl lying in that tangled mess of flesh, the last remnant of some other soldier's blood trickling over her was not something he would have let happen.
Dr. Wilkes exhaled a long breath as he thought of Dr. O'Brian. At least she didn't have to oversee this part of the process. Edgar assumed she could handle it, but just didn't want to put that burden on her.
Instead, Dr. O'Brian got to oversee the collection and connection of the next batch of Dragoon armor to the lab machines. Notably less numbers than the human body count, production had been suspended for some other project Ackerson was now working on.
The war was expensive, and the Dragoons were certainly not "cost effective". Edgar knew this was a limited run, and that Ackerson had something else up his sleeve, but had not been privy to it.
Two more sets of Dragoons would be completed, bringing the total number to thirty-six. Not nearly enough to directly fight the Covenant forces, but hopefully surgical strikes could be achieved to help tip the balance of this war.
Once the remaining bodies were loaded up, the rest would be disposed of. Incinerated, Dr. Wilkes assumed. There was simply no time for funerals.
Dr. Wilkes felt a wave of sympathy for the workers below. What a horrible task, having to gather the dead. Edgar could just imagine their morale being dashed as more bodies were collected.
It seemed so hopeless looking at the bodies below, that humanity was just biding time for their ultimate inevitable destruction.
No. His creation, the Dragoons, along with the Spartans and other heroic people would win this war. They had to. Dr. Wilkes refused to believe otherwise.
The last body was placed on a table and secured. The worker below gave a thumbs up signal to a person standing at the controls across the room. Edgar turned from the window and began looking over instruments, pressing buttons to power up systems needed for the procedure.
A steady hum filled the room, and grew louder as more machines came online. The sounds of gears interlocking alerted Dr. Wilkes that the tables were beginning their ascent into the lab area.
"It seems you are proceeding nicely, Dr. Wilkes. You might deserve a raise, should we all survive." Jordan, Ackerson's snoop AI made another unwelcome appearance into the Lab.
"If we are to die, I hope I live long enough to see your demise."
"For shame good doctor. We're all on the same team, are we not?" The AI's remark was full of sarcasm, but Edgar didn't feel like entertaining the hack program anymore.
The lab's clear exit door slid open as Edgar made his way to the next room that was marked Lab C to see how the Dragoons' process was coming along.
As Dr. Wilkes entered the room, he noticed the Dragoons lying on the tables, but they had not been connected. Instead, Dr. O'Brian was intently looking over what appeared to be the encrypted code for the Persia Algorithm.
"I think we have been through that thing enough. There just isn't a way to crack it. Let's get the last couple of sets done and see what orders Ackerson has for us."
"I don't know Edgar, something about this just will not stop bugging me. I keep having the feeling that the Persia title has some significance."
"Well, there was a Persian empire that existed in ancient times. Don't remember the actual history there, but I do have some books on file back in my office that may have information on them."
His office… Dr. O'Brian had no idea why the room brought pleasant thoughts. Perhaps it was all the time they had spent getting to know each other in there. It was a nice rendezvous spot, and had a very… comfortable chair.
Sex, however, was the furthest thing from Christy's mind. A long time had seemed to have passed since she last had any urge to get intimate. That chair though… she would take a rest in that chair in a heartbeat.
"Then let's proceed. The sooner we can get to figuring this out the sooner it will quit nagging me." A strained smile crawled along Dr. O'Brian's face. With her exhausted state, Edgar assumed it took quite an effort.
"Let's get to it then."
---------------
The fog began to lift from E'Las's eyes as his vision slowly returned. Various electrical sparks shone brightly in his periphery and the smell of smoke made breathing difficult. At least that is what E'Las hoped.
With considerable effort the Sangheili unlatched his harness and slid out from it, his movement looking as though he was melting as he fell out onto the floor.
Every fiber in his body ached, but the pain was especially strong in his lower right mandible. Surprise filled his body as his hand met with it.
It no longer protruded at a slight angle from his mouth, but rather at a deformed angle pointing down. Pain filled his body as he touched it, causing him to let out a strained grunt.
The sound of movement came from behind as Hajaf appeared to his left. The small Unggoy looked unharmed as he looked E'Las over.
"You hurt? Me fix!" Before E'Las was aware, the Grunt grabbed his mandible and twisted quickly upward snapping the appendage painfully back into place.
E'Las had never hurt so badly. He was sure the pain would cause him to black out again, but to his surprise he stayed cognate.
"Brother! Sangheili hurt, but me fix! …Brother?"
Hajaf craned his neck around E'Las's chair to bring his brother's seat into view. The small creature lay motionless in his chair. He appeared asleep, as Grunts were infamous for.
"Brother?" The small Unggoy called out again, but no reply came. Hajaf scampered over to his brother's side, and nudged him gently. Tatak's body slumped to the side opposite Hajaf slightly.
Light-blue viscous blood seeped from under the creature's methane mask, and slowly created a long string of death to the floor.
Hajaf stared at his deceased brother, not quite sure what to do next. The Grunt was not aware of Akon's presence behind him.
"Tatak served your species and mine heroically. He will forever be remembered in the annals of Unggoy history as well as my thoughts." Akon's words brought some comfort to Hajaf. The fact that he spoke Tatak's name spoke volumes, as usually Sangheili would not have even acknowledged the death.
"You will have time to grieve, but for now we must go. I noticed a force of humans as we flew over the plains and they will be upon us soon." Akon placed a gentle hand on Hajaf's shoulder, and as Hajaf focused on it, he could see blood beginning to congeal on the Sangheili's hand.
Fresher blood ran over it, making its was between the fingers and trickling down Hajaf's armor. "You hurt?"
"I will be fine little one. We need to go."
The group rounded up what weapons they could find that withstood the impact. Hajaf grapped a couple of needlers while E'Las belted a powered down energy sword and took up a plasma rifle.
Akon also grabbed a sword and shouldered a carbine. As if rethinking the situation, he reached out and took the last beam rifle, figuring he might get off a few shots as the humans closed in on them.
His mind shot back to the dead brutes they had found, and the small footprints that appeared to be human in nature.
If whatever had caused that scene was coming for them, they were in for a fight.
---------------
Dujonus stood clumsily within the remains of the Phantom, his head feeling as though he had suffered a blow from the Fist of Rukt itself. The ship's hull had compressed during the crash, which made standing upright impossible.
What remained of the Jackal pilot was in pieces littering the craft's ceiling. The spinning craft had managed to land on its top, and had apparently skidded, wearing a whole in a small section.
Other holes in the side and bottom of the vessel allowed choked sunlight to radiate through the smoke that was continuing to bellow out.
Dujonus could see the earth through the hole on the top, and it seemed to be the only place clean of the deceased Kig-Yar's blood. Small fires burned along the navigation portion of the ship's console. Some console lights managed to stay dimly on, while others in the craft was dark.
Dujonus reached down and picked up his Brute Shot, and slung a carbine over his shoulder as well. The Jiralhanae then began looking around for some grenades to add to his arsenal, but stopped as he heard voices in the distance.
As he peered out one of several holes littered about the starboard side of the ship, the voices ceased. Figuring he was about to be surrounded, Dujonus decided staying inside the relative safety of the ship's hull would be the best choice… for now.
Shadows formed over his face as he sunk back within the ship's interior. Dujonus searched around for more weapons and began placing them on each side of him in neat rows. There would probably be no time to reload in this fight, at least not until he had managed to kill some of the human filth.
Assorted rifles, pistols and grenades now lay at Dujonus's feet, and he felt prepared for what was to come.
A/N: I am looking for a beta to help me wrap up this story and work on some other ones. If you are interested, please message me through my profile. Thanks! Hope you liked this chapter! Please read and review.