Chapter 11: The Four Titans (Part 2)
Welcome back to another instalment of Timekeeper: Resolution. I'm sorry if this update may seem a little late... Life keeps you very busy indeed... Anyway, I'd like to thank you all for the continued support you have been showering me with. It makes writing feel all the less monotonous. Thanks again for the likes, favs and reviews you all have given this fanfic. Without further ado, let's continue...
"Blood is blood, brother. No matter what they are, what they represent... What form they take...Where their path may lead... Blood will always be blood." – Ryan Eisenhower.
"Together we stand, alone we fall. But could you condemn others to a fate you undeservingly lashed out upon them? But of course, I speak to one who has popularized that particular statement." – Unknown.
After Isaac's bombshell of a plan was let loose into their brains to scurry about and ponder, they were no doubt in a mix of emotions, ranging from sceptical to downright relieved. On one hand, this was their ticket not just out of the brief timespan she was given but also their one chance to finally be together in the flesh. Literally. But on the other side of the coin, they still weren't all that convinced by Isaac's game plan. And that's not even going into his motivations for the both of them. He made it pretty clear that he wanted his property back, come hell or high water. John wasn't going to budge an inch either. It was like being caught between a rock and a hard place, only in this case said hard place was a figurative steel wall that moved. Now wasn't the time to contemplate however. Now was the time to make a choice.
"Wait a minute. Turning me human? That sounds like something out of a sci-fi movie." Cortana remarked wittily. Isaac rolled his eyeballs in their intended sockets at her almost comical observation.
"If you haven't noticed Cortana, we are in a sci-fi movie of sorts." Isaac grumbled, closing the display in a flash and gently placing the device back on the workbench/study desk right behind him.
"Fair point." She admitted. Her voice was still quite gravelly and distorted, though now it was getting even more garbled than usual. Half the time, she didn't even sound like a woman. Anyone who heard her in the dark would immediately assume it was some guard on patrol. That or Roland, the ship's A.I was gallivanting around the ship again.
"So how would this work?" John inquired of Isaac.
"I create a human lattice that mimics actual life, using cybernetics to keep certain systems in check and to enhance your abilities to a measurable degree." Isaac explained as briefly as possible. They didn't have much time to go over every little tidbit that came up. There was a clock ticking and they'd have to settle for plain old muffins to fill their bellies.
"So in essence, a half-human, half-cyborg body." John surmised the long-winded answer. It may have been short to him but it felt like eons had passed since his mouth first opened. Isaac stared at him with a hint of astonishment and pride at the supposedly macho soldier.
"Well, look at you spouting scientific slang. I'm sure someone will give you a medal." He clapped his palms together in a sarcastic manner, drawing ire from Cortana and John to end his nonsense. Dejectedly, he halted his playful mood and quickly reverted into the more serious persona.
"What are the odds?" she asked. Isaac seemed hesitant to give a figure, unsure of their reaction. At the end of it all, he made an executive decision.
"50-50. Not a total loss but it's significant enough." He answered as clinically as possible, trying not to look aggrieved so that they may grieve without worry. What good would it do if they were to fawn over him when they deserved each other's attention so much more?
"What happens in the other fifty percent?" Cortana questioned in the same hesitant overtone he had adopted. John merely observed the interaction between a figurative father and daughter. He did note that Isaac was quick to hide his true feelings behind a wall, just as he had done for his companion for so long.
"You just don't bond and the process fries whatever matrixes are left in her code." Isaac shrugged his shoulders as he said so.
"Dead as a doornail. I'm gambling with my existence." Cortana summed up the whole thought experiment.
"When you put it that way, then yes. Like that..." Isaac tried to sugarcoat the sombre idealism as best he could, to little avail. Expectantly, John was even more cautious about this option than ever before. As much as he wanted her to get better, he couldn't imagine how losing her would feel like. Especially after they finally managed to bond quite nicely over the course of their long, arduous journey. But Cortana took little heed of the risks, seeing only the possible reward at the end of the rainbow.
"I'll do it." She answered after a quick discussion with her fractured psyche. Say what you will about her condition. At times, it had its uses.
"Cortana..." John began at first. He immediately stopped when Cortana held up her striped digital hand to his face.
"I'm doing this, Chief. I know the risks are quite high. But if it means that we get a life together then I'm all for it." She replied with swift determination. John could see that she was dead-set on this course of action and no amount of pleading would change that.
"I wasn't going to stop you. You do what you want to, not me." John conceded the point without fail. No matter what, he was going to support all the way.
"Thank you, Chief." She told him, gazing into his visor and seeing his blue eyes meet her own. Love overtook their primary senses, blocking them out from the rest of the world around them. For several moments, their irises stared into one another with a deep longing of finally being joined together as a couple, not just as an interaction between man and machine.
"If you two lovebirds are done affirming your vows, we need to get busy. This is going to be quite the project to work on." Isaac rolled his eyes at the sight of the lovey-dovey couple. They didn't need to rub their good fortune in his face.
"Uggghhh... And there goes the moment." Cortana sighed as reality sunk back in. 'Curse him for ruining such a great thing.' She implicitly stated within the confines of her subconscious. Even that was accompanied by the image of tossing him out the door the next time they chose to delve into their love-fuelled bliss.
"We'll have those moments, once this is all over." John whispered into her ear with a degree of gentleness, out of earshot from Isaac Eisenhower who had begun to sketch up rough designs for the whole shebang.
"I'll hold you to that." She whispered back before disappearing back into her holochip in the Chief's helmet. John beamed at the prospect of finality. But Isaac was not John, nor did he share this gravy-coated optimism. John decided to leave him to his work. No point interrupting him on something so important, considering the risks involved. With that said, he left the room as quietly as possible, his presence no longer hanging over the disgruntled man's head any longer.
Isaac kept his eyes glued to the paper as his pen scrawled out a simple sketch of a woman's body onto a piece of paper. Each and every facet of it from the arms to the legs and the body format was carefully labelled in order. For each of those, various lines noting the parts required and the subsequent upgrades it would provide were also meticulously spelled out in his messy handwriting. One by one, the whole body was soon detailed vividly, a vision of his design and structure. It seemed brilliant at first to him but he reminded himself to keep his mind open to the possibilities of changes down the line. Now was not the time to be sentimental and create something entirely for himself. This was for Cortana and John, not his own misguided sense of guilt.
"Bringing life to something that does not live. Does that remind you of something?" Ryan's sardonic tone filtered back into his subconscious, pulling Isaac back into the madness of his mind.
"F# * you, Ryan. I'm sick of you dictating my every move like I'm some dumb blonde at a convention for dumb blondes." Isaac waved a big middle finger into his brother's face, his cheeks flush with rage-induced red. His brother's facsimile merely beamed knowingly at the insulting flesh, pushing it aside with all the importance of a dead fly.
"I would not dream of insulting your intelligence. Merely your insistence on helping these people in such small ways when we have the chance to save them from what is to come." He commented dryly, infuriating Isaac slightly.
"Look... I need to save her. I just need... just need to do what I couldn't do before." Isaac proclaimed to Ryan as he banged his fist on a newly formed stone wall, venting his frustration at the growing chain of spiralling events.
"If that is your reason, then save her by stopping them from obtaining the shard." His brother reminded of the ultimate goal.
"I'm doing the best I can, okay? I'm just one man." Isaac responded in exasperation.
"And yet you choose to bear burdens even gods never dreamed of holding upon their shoulders." Ryan quipped back at him. It wasn't just a simple statement. The lone wolf persona was completely intentional by design, Isaac's 'masterplan' to avoid further bloodshed of determined souls.
"Funny how double standards work." He sardonically remarked back to his brother with a short snort at the end. The hot air wafted into the atmosphere. 'My brother's not an easy man to deal with. He insists on driving a wedge between his friends simply because it suits him. I must deal with this as acceptable as possible.' The facsimile considered mentally before redirecting his words into verbal talk.
"Indeed. But I digress. I've decided to procure the shard in my own time." Ryan announced. The desired effect of drawing his brother's attention could not have been planned better. The mere act of his head doing a 180 at his words was proof enough that he had spoken wisely.
"Wait, what? How did... How did you?" Isaac blabbered incessantly to Ryan, grabbing him by the lapels in total shock.
"Acquire it? A Forerunner contacted me. I believe she wishes to speak with you." Ryan answered him plainly, tapping on Isaac's outstretched palms gently to indicate his displeasure in being manhandled. With a deep breath, Isaac let go of his brother and stalked away in deep thought. 'If he found the shard, then I could potentially have one less item on my list.' He pondered to himself. With a steely resolve, he turned back around and decided to take the bait just this once.
"Then why am I still talking to you?" Isaac chose to end the conversation there and then. Needless to say, Ryan found a way to make it less impactful.
"Your words wound me, dear brother." Ryan crooned sarcastically, holding his hand towards his heart and putting on a fake sad face for Isaac's viewing pleasure.
"Boo-hoo. Go cry yourself a damn river. Just let her in." He snarled at Ryan who quickly resumed his neutral stance with a condescending sigh.
"If you wish, dear brother." Ryan gave in and freely left of his own accord to allow his brother and their guest to speak in private. Isaac did not have to wait long to meet the Forerunner. Her white gown covered most of her twig-like alien body, only showing similarly branch-like extremities amidst the white plume. Her head was eerily human in some areas but it also had just enough weird amalgamations such as small slits as nostrils and wide eyes of a deep yellow that you could tell she was alien. At least that what Isaac assumed its gender was.
"I assume that you're the Forerunner my brother speaks of." Isaac asked of her almost immediately.
"That is correct, Instigator." The Forerunner answered in a booming voice, adopting the title given to him by their race. Isaac groaned in complete revolting disgust. If he never heard that name spouting from their lips again, it'd be too soon.
"Enough with the titles. I'm sick of hearing that." Isaac remarked as he reclined back in his comfy chair conjured up from the depths of his mind. Imagination really was the birthplace of ingenuity.
"Our race have always been known by titles, Instigator. Just as our gods are known by them." The Forerunner continued to speak in a prophetic manner, akin to a religious nutcase. All this time, Isaac was starting to doubt the validity of his brother's claim.
"What's yours then?" Isaac shot back with indifference.
"I am the Librarian, Instigator. A recorder of time if my title permits." She told him. 'Well, that's original.' Was all Isaac got out of her explanation.
"Joy..." He quipped. The Librarian deemed it as a mere slight and brushed off the care-free nature of his comment, getting back to the task at hand.
"I was intrigued by your aspect's request. It matches much of what I now hold in my possession. Tell me, is this what you're looking for?" The Librarian stated clearly as she held out a small block of Forerunner metal in her bony fingers. The metal had the same orange glow lines that indicated its alien origins. But what really set this thing apart was the feeling of its power as Isaac brushed it with his fingertips. It hummed with unimaginable power, similar to his experience with the Ihan memory crystal a while back. There was no doubt in his mind that he had found his prize, so tantalizingly close and within his grasp. But he took it with a pinch of salt. Who knew what tricks anyone could pull on him?
"Yep, that'd be it. How did you come by it?" Isaac answered as he pulled his eyes away from his cursory examination and refocused his gaze upon the Librarian.
"This shard is known as the Janus Key by many of our kind. It was used to map out any Forerunner technology left from our purge and entrusted to me for safekeeping." She explained to him. Almost as soon as the word entrusted was brought around, Isaac became sceptical. 'Why would she give away something she was tasked with protecting at all costs?' he considered at least twice over before asking the all-important question.
"If it's so important, why are you giving this to me? The so-called Instigator?" Isaac inquired the Librarian of her logic behind the decision. The Librarian seemed to have her answer all ready to fire way. And fire away she did...
"I had another candidate in mind. A brilliant scientist amongst your kind who I foresaw could lead mankind into a new stage of evolution." She announced to Isaac. The dots weren't too hard to connect. After all, there was only one scientist he knew fit the bill.
"Well, your logic must have been right on the money then. That's all she cares about." Isaac snarled at the mere idea that she could be considered for such an honour. Did the supposedly all-knowing Forerunners screwed somewhere along the way to even recommend her for it?
"How can you judge, when the stories the Gods speak of you are just as terrible?" The Librarian requested of him an answer, peering at him with the most curious irises one could affix to him. They were like mini-suns threatening to blot him out and it did not help in coming up with a reply that he felt was suitable.
"I can do that because I don't want anyone to become me. What I am, I've made peace with that. But don't think for a second I will see anyone else fall to such depths ever again." He shakily told her, cringing at fresh pain from his past. Even now, the mental scars were as deep as the day he scraped them into his brain.
"That is why I choose to pass our secrets onto you. Your will, your drive shall allow them to see that future. Your bravery in facing the coming end times is far more important as of right now than the impetus of evolution." The Librarian proclaimed her reasoning. 'For a human, he seems to have a narrow-minded idea of what humanity is.' She figured. From what she could glean from his aspect's words, this ordinary human has seen more than most in such a short span of time. And yet, why did she still have the feeling that the Gods may have been partially true in their recounting of his deeds?
"I... Thank you?" Isaac gave a confused token of appreciation, accepting the Janus Key from the Librarian in the same manner. The Librarian's bony flesh felt quite tepid against his rough, callous, battle-worn scarred flesh, a dichotomy of sorts between the two different species.
"Do not thank me yet, Instigator. I see that the path before you is fraught with peril and danger. Tread lightly, chosen one. For they shall not wait for you to rise back to the heights of your power." She prophesized in an all-knowing tone as she raised her hands upwards and dissipated her essence from his mind with a quick flurry and a blinding flash of orange light. Isaac collapsed from the strain the combined presence had on him, hitting the metal floor hard with little to soften the blow. As he strained to rise from the ground, his eyes darted to the newfound shard, now humming with the same searing orange light and tumbling around in his palm like a baton.
"Great... Another prophetic miracle... Just perfect..." he grumbled to himself. If saving the universe wasn't bad enough without the inhabitants putting fate in false prophecies, he had to deal with supernatural shit. 'Just freaking brilliant, my life.' He swore, rubbing his ribcage and feeling his healed stomach wound for the first time in two days. His feet finally sought purchase on the floor beneath him, only to discover he was somewhere else entirely. The room was a cornucopia of symptoms indicating a recent fight. From the scattered and burning shreds of paper to the gaping holes in both the hull right behind him and the ajar door standing before him, it was clear that his sojourn into the realm of the mind took much longer than anticipated. What was merely three minutes was actually three hours in real life.
'What the hell? What happened?' Isaac shot the query to himself. Instinctively, he reached for his trust All-Purpose Magnum in his leather holster and drew it in one swift motion. His hands clenched around the butt of the gun and steadied his aim considerably from his shaky exterior. The only thing he could do was aim it squarely at the blasted metal frame and inch closer. Outside was no different from his room. The hallways were lined with bullet holes, plasma burns and eerie glowing orange singes that he recognized from his previous encounters with the so-called Prometheans. Beams were left wide open from explosive blasts. Split rails were scattered across the floor and intermittent sparks from breakaway wires lit the room in intervals. 'Must have been a swift battle for me to go unnoticed by all parties involved.' He mused knowingly, peering out from his hiding place down each length.
"I see we have awoken to a place not unlike the one we left." Ryan crept back in, eyeing the wreckage through his brother's own bloodshot red irises. He could almost feel his brother's tongue dream up a new curse word at his resurgence.
"No shit, genius. This place's a mess." Isaac narrowed his brows, treading lightly out of his comfort zone.
"I've seen worse." Ryan could not help but comment.
"Tell me about it." Isaac nodded in swift agreement as he stepped over a fallen barrier silently. Any noise he made could potentially draw attention and he certainly did not want that.
"It would be fair to assume that our enemies have closed the distance between us." Ryan answered, referring to the White Phoenix rather than the side-notes he had been fighting all along.
"Well, Archer's going to be in a nice surprise when I find him." He replied in a snarky manner. His brother's voice chuckled dryly upon hearing his statement. 'Now there's the brother I've known all these years.' He tenderly remarked to himself as he watched his brother stalk down the hallway in a tense manner.
"Indeed, but he's not the only game in town." Ryan reminded him, pulling his attention towards the plasma burns and orange singes slapped across the walls like a man with bad taste in wallpaper.
"Let's focus on getting a grip on the situation before we make assumptions." Isaac told him, turning a corner and checking every nook and cranny for potential threats.
"Your move, brother. Your move." Ryan finalized his words as he let his presence fade away into the backdrop. Isaac finally felt in control of his mind and just in time since the task at hand required all his mental faculties. But he had to wonder. What did happen in the last few hours.
Two Hours Ago
Chaos. That's what happened. At least that what appeared to happen when John and Cortana were taken by surprise by not one, not two but three small armies assaulting the ship. The only warning that they did get was a brief snippet of a marine in the bridge, informing the crew through the P.A system that there were imposters on the ship, followed by a hair-raising scream and complete static afterwards. The blasts followed soon afterwards, a slew of both Covenant and Forerunner troops surging into the ship and massacring the surviving crew, the insurgents and each other with extreme prejudice. In a word, order had left the building entirely and they were caught right in the middle of it.
"Covenant on your right, Chief." Cortana bellowed into his comm link. John acknowledged the order, sending a hail of gunfire down the corridor at the hiding Jackal as he raced for new cover. Despite the suppression, the Jackal found the nerve to peek out for a split second and let loose a few rounds of its Carbine Rifle right back at the armoured super soldier. He barely had seconds to spare before the swath of plasma bolts whizzed past his head.
"That was close." John remarked, snapping to the Jackal's head in one swift, glorious motion and popping off a round into its brain matter. Its head was thrown backwards as the round penetrated his eyeball, sending the carcass flying off its feet and nestling firmly into the wall right behind it. A whistle flew right out of John's mouth at that.
"Must have been armour-piercing..." he contemplated, glancing down at his assault rifle cradled within his bulky metal gloves.
"Do you think that was a scout?" Cortana queried, her voice still as distorted as ever. John shrugged his shoulders as he sauntered past the corpse embedded and encased in the steel wall.
"Possibly. We need to get to the bridge. Hopefully, we can make some sense of the matter." John replied to her.
"Yeah, maybe." Cortana gave a quick shrug in response. Truth be told, the bridge sounded like a warzone now. There was no way there were any survivors left from the struggle. At least, any that were even remotely friendly. Suddenly, a hail of chattering machine gun fire erupted into their ears, along with the shuffling of feet and metallic constructs. Screams of pain cried out to be heard, begging for the pain to stop. Then, simple plain silence followed.
"Did you hear that? Sounds like our marines are in trouble." Cortana told John. He responded simply by giving a curt nod, shouldering his rifle and taking a defensive posture as his feet remained rooted to the ground.
"It came from the hangar. We'd better move out." John drawled out in a militaristic tone, akin to handing out orders on a regular basis.
"On it, Chief." Cortana acknowledged her protector's orders, flipping her motion scanning programs back online and marking the hangar bay on his waypoint. John need do little but follow the breadcrumb trail, only in this case that trail was nothing but blood, broken bodies and the gentle tinkle of shell casings rolling helplessly across the uneven surface. Every step they took greeted them to a scene of horror. Dead soldiers, both theirs and the white-clad insurgents were littered across the floor. One of them was tangled up in the webs, his mouth and irises agape in a moment of sheer terror, the last thing to wash over his young mind. The white uniforms were outwardly stained with red, dripping ominously drop by drop onto the floor, creating a puddle John had no choice but to step into simply to pass. The smell of gunpowder wafted seamlessly in the atmosphere, completely indistinguishable from one area to the next. Foreign weapons the pair had never seen before was all over the battlefield. Out of curiosity, John snatched one of the strange procurements up from the cold, dead hands of a pale-white insurgent.
"Cortana, can you scan this? Tell us what we're up against." John held up his palm to allow Cortana to digitalize herself into existence. Her blue hue emitted a small glow in the flickering chamber, a calming presence in such a gruesome scene.
"I'll do my best. Scanning now..." Cortana flashed her irises across the weapon, still tainted by the blood of its previous owner. Instantly, her programs drew up algorithm after algorithm as she did her best to determine the nature of their arsenal and by extension the enemy itself.
"Got it. Design seems quite immaculate, modern make." Cortana clinically mused, standing upright once more.
"How modern?" John pressed the issue.
"About 21st to 22nd century if I had to pinpoint." Cortana replied in an instant. Now he just gave her a weird look, wondering if he had heard her right.
"That's not modern. That's antique." John retorted. A three century old gun not being an antique. 'Is Cortana's processing starting to suffer from the deterioration?' he pondered to himself. As if she could read minds, Cortana quickly dispelled such myths and pointed to the foreign tool.
"Not from the looks of this thing. No rust, no signs of aging. It's like these weapons were only just recently manufactured." She explained further. 'Okay, so not old. Just using 21st century design docs. That makes so much more sense.' He considered mentally. Turning his attention to more pressing matters, he quickly switched the subject to more practical terms.
"Functionality?" he summed up in one word.
"According to the schematics, this appears to be a modular rifle, built to adapt to any situation. Right now, it seems to have been outfitted for short-range skirmishes." Cortana rattled off in record time.
"SMG?" John replied, looking down at the weapon with a hint of respect. Whoever made this was a technical whizz. No doubt of that fact was going to filter past his mind.
"Best guess I have, Chief." Cortana shrugged, deconstructing her digital form and returning to the sanctuary of the microchip embedded in the back of her protector's helmet.
"It'll do. Let's keep moving." John grimaced, levelling the weapon and returned to his original pace. As they approached the entrance to the hangar bay, they could hear an audible moan cry out from beyond the frame of the destroyed door. Smoke billowed right in front of them, preventing them from seeing the victim through the smokescreen.
"Hang on, kid. I'm coming." John dashed through the black fog and out the other end. Finally seeing his target, a marine pinned under a fallen metal banister with a wounded leg, he raced over to his side.
"Oh, thank God! I thought you were one of them." The marine exclaimed in relief upon seeing the hero of the human race saddle up next to him. Immediately both men set to work freeing him from the fallen pillar, which was easier said than done. Even with four hands, two of which were capable of lifting stone boulders with relative ease, the pillar proved quite stubborn indeed. It was only until John looked skywards that he saw the problem. The pillar hadn't completely severed itself from the rafters and they were attempting to pull the whole arch of metal to the ground. Luckily, John managed to scavenge a small blowtorch to aid with the severance.
"Which one?" Cortana mused at the comment, distorted as her voice was. John merely languished, rolling his eyes in their sockets.
"Not the time, Cortana." He told her exasperatedly.
"Sorry, Chief." Cortana apologized just as he finished burning through the last remnants of metal that held it in place. The whole beam started to fall, rivets and all, stopped in its tracks by a quick save by John's dexterous arms. He yanked the support beam off the injured marine with little effort and tended to his wounds.
"What happened?" He spoke in a commanding yet drawling manner. The marine cringed as he applied pressure to his wound and glanced at the bandage wrapping itself quite nicely in the aftermath.
"Those damn Covenant started pouring in out of the woodwork on the central entrance. As we were defending the position, those... insurgents came out of nowhere and decimated the rest of us, including the Covenant forces. The marine gasped out in bouts of stifled groans of agonizing pain. It was even worse when John tied the knot at tight as he could. The flesh squeezing underneath the fabric really pinched his raw nerves and he had to close his mouth with his free hand just to avoid telegraphing their position to everyone on the ship.
"Any other survivors?" John questioned, standing up and scanning the corridors to either side of them for any unsuspecting foes.
"No... Cough... Cough... Not that I saw, Chief." The marine spoke in a raspy manner, coughing twice as he did so. 'There's no way this guy is able enough to fight.' He considered. The best thing to do was to make sure he got out of here before more foes started crawling out of the woodwork. Scavenging a Magnum Pistol from a pile of wreckage that once resembled a weapon locker, he thrust it into the awaiting hands of the sole survivor.
"Go find any other survivors you can. Regroup wherever possible and get to safety." John gave him orders. The marine groaned as he clambered to his feet and it looked like he was about to argue his point. Instead however, he gave a impromptu salute to the Chief, gripping the pistol with all his might as he did so.
"On it, Chief. Good luck." The marine murmured as he stepped over the support beam and sprinted out the door. Soon enough, he was no longer visible in the Chief's eyes save for of course Cortana's motion trackers. The little white friendly dot pinged second by second as it slowly drew away from their position.
"So what now, Chief?" Cortana asked expectantly as she heard more gunfire erupt all around them. John responded by pulling back on his assault rifle's firing mechanism and letting a spent shell casing fly out and clink against the hard surface below.
"Now we take back our ship." John remarked, dashing off to meet his enemy. Oh, he would meet his enemy all right. But not all things were as clear cut as it should be...
Two Hours Ago
Archer Holden sallied forth through the carnage after a successful campaign against the holdouts on the bridge. After the go-ahead was given by the salacious captain, Archer and Terrence took their opportunity to scour the ship for Isaac Eisenhower and the whereabouts of the shard located in this plane of existence. The impromptu assault by the aliens forces that resided her gave him due time to nab several prisoners from out of nowhere as insurance for his future encounters. He had not gone unnoticed in this respect however and soon enough all four parties involved were engaging in a close-quarters combat situation which he predictably won. How could he lose when he had the Gods on his side?
"Sir, bridge has been secured. All hostiles have been terminated." A lone lieutenant saddled up next to him as Archer's eyes yielded to the beauty of the carnage occurring right in front of him. It was the will of the gods and it had never looked quite so beautiful.
"And what of our prisoners?" The malignant bald-headed leader demanded of his subordinate.
"Still in custody. They're struggling a little bit more than usual but we have them under control." The disciple nodded through his airtight visor. Holden beamed warmly at his follower. He was a part of the Silent Ones, infiltrators with no equal and loyalty beyond comparison. But then again, all his troops were loyal. 'They are loyal not to the man who leads them but to the deities who we worship in entirety.' He corrected himself. Many things could be said about him but egotistical was not one of them.
"Well done, my disciple. Inform your troops. Pull all remaining loyal followers back to the hangar bay and hold it at all costs. As soon as that is done, tell me quickly." Holden responded favourably, patting him on the shoulder for a job well done. The disciple bowed gracefully in gratitude for his benevolence.
"Go now, my child. They will not wait for the will of God to be cast upon them!" he barked proudly to him.
"Yes, Father Phoenix." He replied, walking away. Archer could hear him bark out subsequent orders to his remaining troops, commanding them to heed his will. Soon, only Terrence, his male bodyguard and himself were left alone in the wrecked bridge control. 'Perhaps it is time to call in our erstwhile allies. I think they may be of use to us in this conflict.' He mused mentally. That thought cleared his head in record time and his fingers went right up to the comm link jammed in his earlobe, depressing on one of the buttons and linking him to the eager duo.
"Kerrigan, Raynor." He called out. There was a scuffle on their end as they frantically scrambled to pick up the device and wedge into their own earlobe.
"Archer! Was getting worried on this end. What happened?" The older, grizzled veteran's smooth undertones echoed vibrantly in Archer's ear.
"We were set upon by Isaac's rabid believers. It seemed they would not listen to reason." Holden responded in a sad, regretful banter. Were he actually sorry, it would have been a more believable story. To the duo who were deeply entranced within his web of lies, they ate it up like nothing they've ever had.
"That's not a good turn of events." James responded ruefully, the telltale signs of disappointment clear as he sighed heavily into the comm link.
"It is not. I hope to lure him out with some bait. Hopefully we can avoid further bloodshed. I've sent word to Shuttle Delta to pick you up." Archer explained at great length to the two.
"We'll be ready in five." Sarah Kerrigan finally perked up and bantered over the comms. He smiled at the enthusiasm the ghost was displaying. Perhaps in a different time, she may have been a noteworthy addition to his collection of followers. Now however, she was only a malleable tool against his foe.
"Good, Holden out." He crooned at the end, ending the conversation on a high note. 'Good, they are none the wiser.' He pondered aimlessly as he felt his comm link with his finger again, this time for a more direct call.
"Is he dealt with, my child?" he rasped out expectantly over the comm.
"Yes, Father Phoenix. He enjoyed... his pleasure quite immensely." The female bodyguard demurely replied joyously. Clad only in underwear and a towel, her irises laid claim on the corpse nestled perfectly on the once stainless bed. Andrew Del Rio had finally gotten his wish to be bedded by an absolute beauty. Too bad he never saw the black widow in her emerge until the blade was well within his still beating heart and he ceased to exist at all. But the bodyguard didn't just stop there. Oh no... She slit his throat from ear to ear just for good measure. Even now, she was still bathed in his dried extruding matter and loving every rapturous minute of it. 'It is a pity the Gods saw fit to see his life snuffed out. I would have enjoyed to have that little toy just a little bit longer.' She sadistically wondered to herself as Archer spoke up again.
"Excellent, my disciple. You shall reap the rewards for your sacrifice to the heathens." He proclaimed. 'But I will enjoy the blessings the Gods grant me now for my unholy sacrifice. I will lie with another thousand heathens if they will me to. For the Gods themselves!' she proudly announced happily in her heart. As far as psychopaths go, she was as about as far gone as she could possibly be.
"I live only to serve." She answered positively before cutting the communication entirely. 'Now I have to wash this heretic's blood off my pure vessel.' She mused, walking back into the shower for a well-deserved bath even as the room began to stink with the decay of the captain's shredded body.
Archer heard her connection sever and he stood back upright with a straight smile on his face. His plans were soon coming to fruition, just as the Gods had themselves prophesized. He was quick to note that he was not a prophet, merely a leader who volunteered to lead them to the promised land. That's all he saw himself as. The man who will lead them unto heaven...
"Terrence, are there any combatants of these pestilent aliens still left standing?" He asked of his second-in-command.
"Small contingents as far we can guess, Father." He answered readily and honestly. Holden smiled wickedly at this, seeing the possibilities he could potentially consider playing against Isaac just to be safe.
"Retreat in that general direction. Lead them onwards to the hangar bay. We shall wipe our foes out in one swift strike before the sun sets again." Holden mused pro-actively and waved off Terrence dismissively. Terrence took as a sign that he wished to be left to his divine interpretations.
"As you command, Father." He bowed, slamming his fist to his chest lightly in a sign of sheer belief and loyalty. He stepped away and commanded the troops under his veil to follow him and placed his finger to his ear in order to contact any remaining survivors. As they shambled away, Archer laughed grimly at the scene before. The sadistic overmind could not help but cherish the sight of this fallen world. Another world to be cleansed by their righteous fire...
Thirty Minutes Ago
Sarah Kerrigan and James Raynor stepped onboard the Infinity, flanked by some of the best troops both Raynor's own Raiders and the White Phoenix could spare. Both were dressed for success, Raynor in his black combat suit and Sarah draped in a white ghost suit with yellow outlines marking each asset of hers. The Raiders accompanying them had a hard time keeping their eyes on the prize... Well at least a different kind of prize. The White Phoenix on the other hand were all business and no fun on this trip and with good reason. They certainly didn't want to let Isaac Eisenhower the slippery eel worm his way out of their grasp for the umpteenth time. So in retrospect, they didn't seem out of character for the usually observant duo.
"Raynor to Holden, over?" James contacted the enigmatic leader through his sat link. Holden's garbled voice started to crack once in a while over the link. It was only two corridors down did the signal begin to resemble anything remotely moderate in terms of strength.
"Holden here. Assume arrival was uneventful?" Holden's clear drawling tone cleared the airwaves and into their earlobes.
"Yep. Making our way to you now." James echoed his sentiments. Aside from the short EMP burst the gravity well above rocketed the shuttle (and sending Sarah rocking right into his lap), it was a mild slog through the jungle. At first glance, it seemed odd that an alien planet would sustain such a human biosphere on its infrastructure. But then again, he had seen far more stranger sights over his years and this rivalled none of them. If anything, this was the tamest wildlife he's seen so far.
"Good, now listen. We managed to capture some of the crew during the initial skirmish. With any luck, we can draw Isaac out into the open." Archer laid out his intended game plan. Sarah took notice of the word capture, thinking immediately of the worst it possibly meant. Were they injured in battle? Or were they willing surrendered combatants? Either way sounded more disturbing.
"Are they hurt?" She chimed in hesitantly, interrupting Raynor's motion to speak. He fizzled back and passed the sat link over to her awaiting arms, keeping his eyes levelled on the path ahead.
"We've done our best not to harm them, Sarah. But there's only so much we can do." Holden intoned resistantly. From the tone of his voice, she could tell that he did not care for sentiment. If it stopped him from accomplishing his task, then it wasn't worth considering. Hopefully, she could fix that sooner rather than later.
"I understand but that doesn't mean we can't try harder." Sarah answered argumentatively, railing against this suggestion. There's always another way to most things than simply going in guns blazing. Goodness knows how that turned out for her Queen of Blades' persona...
"I get where you're coming from, Miss Kerrigan. But we need to remain vigilant in light of recent events. Now if possible, we'll see about convincing them of the error of their ways. But I do not promise such a happy outcome." Holden remarked irritably. James chose wisely to step in before she pissed off their gracious host any further.
"We'll deal with it. Where are you holding this shindig?" He responded, shushing Kerrigan with a withering glare. 'Great, I can expect to get my rear chewed off later.' He mused willingly.
"Hangar bay. We're drawing the remaining combatants as close as possible as so to reach a wider audience. Plus, their alien foes can be wiped off the map in one fell swoop." Archer explained to the duo. That drew their attention. More parties involved?
"Negotiable?" James asked the all-important question on their minds. To his regret, Archer sighed contemplatively at his query. He swore he could hear him shaking his head sadly in the background, even if this was just audio.
"Negative. Completely hostile." He finally answered.
"Shoot... Okay, we'll be in touch. James out..." Raynor cut the communiqué there and then. 'Well, this day just turned into one big clusterf*#(...' he wistfully thought, rubbing his head with his free hand.
"Is this really what we're doing? Resorting to prisoners? I'm not sure if I agree with this." Sarah objected, shouldering her rifle and keeping a brisk pace towards the hangar bay.
"I know. I don't like it either. But Isaac doesn't play by the rules and we can't expect to do so either." James admitted partially. It's true that this method of attack was... unorthodox. But to be fair, Isaac has pulled some insane moves on his own. Who knows what other surprises he has in store?
"There must be another way. There just has to be." Sarah repeated again and again, craning her head for a worthy solution to their problem. Try and try again... Still nothing would blip into her mind. Not a damn thing...
"If there was, I would take it in a heartbeat. Hey..." James began, pulling Sarah away from the wall as she pounded it with her fist, denting the metal accidentally.
"Maybe this will work in the end. Sometimes we need to trust in order to get it back." He starkly reminded her, gazing deeply into her emerald eyes for a brief moment until the memory came back. She had to trust, let him in... But even that was hard on several occasions to be fair.
"I... You're right, Jim. I'm sorry." Kerrigan finally found the strength to let go of some of her convictions and misgivings, kissing her love as deeply as she could. She didn't care that the rest of their squad was just a few feet away, watching the two lovebirds sort their mess out.
"Don't apologize, darling. It's not your fault." James spoke warmly, pulling away from the kiss in a haze. That's what love will do to anyone...
"Guess we better go get him, right?" Sarah awkwardly commented, still wrapped in her lover's embrace as tight as she possibly was.
"That's the spirit, darling..." Raynor smiled, his bone-white teeth all the clearer and more beautiful in Sarah's eyes. And so they finally arrived at the set location. Spotting Archer hovering over five hostages and a small army of his loyal soldiers, they waved over to him expectantly. Archer acknowledged their presence, quickly snapping out final orders to his followers.
"Ah, I see you made it..." Archer beamed warmly as they walked into the middle of the room.
"Wouldn't miss it, Archer." James remarked, his eyes glued to the hostages on their knees nearby. Their mouths and eyes were covered in a thin cloth, the only echoes of their voices the muffled cries of help that seemed less likely to come by the second. Of note, Sarah looked guilt-ridden as she walked by them, not even the thought of nailing the bastard who led them astray helping to allay that sinking feeling.
"Come... According to my scouts, they've spotted Mr. Eisenhower himself racing to meet our acquaintance." Archer explained the situation, his men moving into place.
"Good. I'll set up in a nearby location." James offered, pointing his thumb towards the large sniper rifle disassembled in his backpack. Sarah was taken aback by his volunteering.
"Why not me?" Kerrigan asked incredulously. Raynor may be a good sniper but Sarah could easily top his record in a heartbeat. Plus her psionic abilities were quite useful in tracking down her prey.
"He'll be expecting you to be there, not me. I'll have a much better chance of surprising him." James explained. At this, Sarah had to see his point. Isaac will be expecting Sarah to be the marksman, not him. With all he's capable of building out of scratch, it was fair to say he was ready to handle her at any given time.
"Okay. Be careful, Jim." Sarah pecked him lightly on the cheek as she took position right next to Archer behind the prisoners.
"I'll be sure to, darling..." James replied with witty charm, clambering up to the rafters and taking a position in one of the more shadowy points on the place. As he assembled his beast of a rifle, he could not help but think that this journey was far from over. In fact, if his gut was right, this escapade was only in its warm-up phase. But now was not the time to ponder about gut feelings while looking down the high-powered scope of his powerful sniper rifle. Now was the time to wait for their prey... Soon he would come... Soon...
Present Time
Isaac yanked the door to the hangar bay rafters open with a tug on the frame, the door still on its metal hinges at best. The sound the door made alone was enough to make even this seasoned veteran more than a little paranoid. Equally so since there was a bunch of bad guys roaming the ship wanting to send his soul into the afterlife. Or wherever their Gods resided. Clambering over the short hurdle of metal right beneath his thin legs, his rifle came soaring out, scope in place and eyes trained on the horizon. The hangar bay had seen better days. Half of the supports were almost crumbling at the seams from the numerous explosions rocketing the hull. Scattered remnants of crates, both wooden and metal splintered the walls with lethality from minor cuts.
It seemed odd at first, the lack of tension wafting in the air. He expected it at one point, a sure-fire sign that his enemies had caught up to him. Now however, there was only silence apart from the billowing of flames that served to illuminate the room aside from the few remaining lights that still functioned. His feet graced the thin lines across the bruised halls with grace and dexterity in his usual wary manner. Whipping out his APM, the veteran stepped to the banister and looked agape at the scene presented before him like a perverse play orchestrated for his viewing pleasure.
Three helpless victims were spread far apart from one another, bound and gagged with rope and cloth, trickles of dried blood pitifully clinging onto their dirt-stained faces. Vainly, they struggled against their bonds, either praying for a miracle or avoiding surrender to what seemed to be an inevitability. Even worse, they looked paraded from his point of view, laid out on the makeshift stage like a sacrifice, an offering of sorts. All around them however was a sea of white and gold, with naught else, even flesh to distinguish one another from the pack. They stood rapt at attention, their weapons out and ready for anything to go awry.
Archer Holden and Sarah Kerrigan stepped forward onto the main stage and the benevolent putrid mess of a man grasped his microphone tightly like it was his lifeline of sorts. Sarah meanwhile from Isaac's perspective looked almost relegated to boring guard duty. The fact that she was here and keeping a close eye on Holden made Isaac's skin tingle with remorse and fear. But things had to be done. So, without further ado, he scrambled to a nearby weapon crate and pulled out the disassembled parts of a standard sniper rifle from its metal clutches. The cold steel felt like an old hand to Isaac but its stinging power remained all the more lethal. As he watched Holden's lips edge closer to the mic, he groaned at how bad his day was. 'Great, I get to listen to Mister Fancy Pants rant about some absolute nonsense.' He grimaced, latching the stock to the main body of the gun.
"My friends... We have come a long way from our humble roots. We have journeyed far, sacrificed much to accomplish our goals." Archer monologue aloud to the room, his voice hitting its mark each and every time. Sometimes it would dip into a sombre and at others it would rise in fury and righteousness, at least by his definitions. Isaac latched the box magazine to the gun, fusing it together with a simple click-and-drop mechanism.
"Our enemy has remained elusive, decisive in his mad quest for absolute chaos and destruction. He has turned loyal brothers and sisters against our cause, to which we had little choice but to put down. He turned them into savage beasts, rabid with the will of his words to drive them." The rant continued amidst the increased mumblings from his prisoners. His hands flowed dexterously, snapping a bipod to the front to steady his aim. He only had one shot at this and he wasn't to pull nothing less than a Kerrigan.
"But we have come to what I hope shall be the end. The end of our great escapade. The end of the murderer Isaac Eisenhower..." Holden spoke grimly, eliciting a stifled chuckle of sarcasm from his foe and a wave of applause and cheering from his followers. Only Sarah remained unmoving and unfeeling, keeping her true emotions bottled up. It's too bad she won't be the one to kill Isaac. He wasn't all that stealthy to begin with. She clocked his presence long before she peered from the corner of her emerald green eye his visible actions from up above. 'Just like we planned...' she let a smile pass her red lips.
"If you can hear me Eisenhower, listen... I have your comrades-in-arms with me right now. They fought valiantly for victims in the service of a coward. If you surrender yourself willingly, we shall not pursue further bloodshed against those who remain." Archer forebodingly challenged the disgruntled soldier with nothing left to lose, just as Isaac finally snapped the scope onto the mounted picatin rail on the front end and let his eye travel up to the scope with a crooked grin of closure. No backing out now...
"I will give you one last chance. End this vicious cycle and redeem your soul. May God steer onto the right path..." The bold leader flourished proudly, letting the mic swing with his wrist and inciting a massive rallying cry from the gaggle of cultists down below.
"Yeah... In your dreams, pal..." Isaac muttered, letting his finger curl around the trigger with a steady grip. Not a single muscle felt out of place, no nervous willies to accompany this overzealous assassination. This wasn't even personal nor business. It was merely cathartic in the eyes of Isaac Eisenhower. Nothing else... But just as the trigger felt easily within his reach, a shadowy form rushed out of the shadows and blindsided him, knocking the gun away from his startled hands. Looking up, he could not see his attacker's face, shrouded as it was in shadows and pitch-dark glimpses. He did not even to hear his voice to know it was him.
"Hello again, Isaac." And the form of James Eugene Raynor rose his fist to strike the fanatic down in one fell swoop, fury blazing in his irises.
Welp... I promised I would try to consolidate this and make it a two-parter but I'm really busy with work and I didn't want to delay this any longer. So, next time will be a different chapter name and hopefully one of the last few chapters for this fanfic. Hope you guys enjoy and as always have fun and... be CO-OPERATIVE!