Chapter 20

James Cutter stared at the holographic representation of the station the Monitor had coined "Installation B-23." Outlined in light blue, its triangular central base had pillars like fingers branching out from the top and bottom. B-23 orbited around a sizable planet that hosted no indigenous life to speak of, according to the translated data noted in a text window next to the world. The shear size of the installation would dwarf any orbital defense platforms found on either Reach or Earth. It's overall design was reminiscent of the structures found on the alien shield world but spoke of a certain purpose not yet defined.

Beside him, Serina appeared on her pedestal, all vibrant and wide-eyed. "It's quite amazing, isn't it, Captain."

James gave her a curious look. "How so?" he asked, figuring the obvious immensity of the station wasn't her point.

Serina turned her head to him and smiled. "We're learning more and more about the builders of these structures with each new find." She tilted her head to the hologram. "The Monitor identified its creators as the Forerunners, and given this station's energy statistics, it's not a far stretch to conclude the shield world we left was made by them as well."

Cutter frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "All of this is well and good for the ONI techs to rummage through, but we need to know what to expect in terms of defenses and weaponry."

Across from the tactical display, Jerome grunted. "And how to shut them down," he added. "What about the Covenant Cruiser? It could have just as easily left or called in reinforcements."

"If that is the case, then this would no longer be a rescue mission," Serina said quietly.

James raised his right hand and waved the concerns away. "Regardless of the current situation at B-23, it is the last know whereabouts of our missing soldiers." He sighed and lowered his hand. "We go in, and we go in hot." With a nod of his head, he motioned back to the floating hologram. "From what Anders had deduced from her preliminary scan of the data, this is just a research station, is that correct, Serina?"

The AI slowly nodded. "Yes, Captain, and it appears any defenses would be internal." The station's image highlighted several points along both it's base and the spires jutting outward. "There are several docking bays and collars we could use, but in the Spirit of Fire's current state, I would not recommend any such maneuvers."

"Then we'll ferry over troops in Pelicans," James commented. He looked up at the Spartan. "092, I assume you'll be on the first bird?"

Jerome opened his mouth to answer, but the shifting of light behind him caused the Spartan to turn partly around.

"We will," Ellen Anders said for both of them, entering the conversation as smooth as Cutter had ever seen her do. She stepped up next to Jerome and placed her hands on the edge of the tactical display's railing. She gave a look between the Captain and the Spartan and smiled. "If what Serina says about this installation and the shield world being related, then I will already have a head start on interfacing with the alien technology we find."

James watched Jerome's face for any sign of disagreement, and instead saw the briefest of smiles bloom before quickly dying out. "It makes sense, Sir," the Spartan said.

Captain Cutter gave them both a curious look. Before on Harvest, Sergeant Forge had vehemently disagreed on Anders' immediate involvement at the polar dig site. In the end they had barely escaped the Covenant trap, and James sincerely hoped they were not walking into the same situation this time. This time, there's almost too many variables. "Very well." He looked over at Serina. "What about this Monitor? He still seems like an unknown participant."

Serina made a sound that simulated a clearing of the throat. "Based on the reports of several Marines that were battling the Covenant in Tradewind's starboard docking bay, an Elite was able to capture the Monitor via a shoulder-slung device, disabling it, so to speak." Serina pulled up a hazy, blurry image from one Marine's helmet docu-cam.

To James, the image appeared to be an Elite in black armor holding what looked like a fuel rod cannon. But as the static image shifted to motion, the video revealed the device pulling a round object on streams of swirling light. The video abruptly shut off when the Elite had his prize and began to turn around.

"Clever, if not practical," Serina commented. "If the Covenant needs such a device to capture a rogue AI, then it might not be a bad idea to obtain something similar."

Cutter frowned but looked across the tactical display. "Anders? Any ideas?"

She pursed her lips in thought, then suddenly snapped her fingers. "The Gremlin. I bet if I can find a way to compartmentalize the laser, amplifier, and power source, I could rig up a one-use EMP cannon that could zap the living daylights out of the Monitor." She raised her eyebrows. "That could keep it quiet for a long time."

James glanced up at the Slipstream exit countdown clock on the back wall. "If you can do it in the next six hours . . ."

"I'm on it," Anders said with a smile.

"Until then, I'll brief the squad commanders and make a ship-wide announcement about our intentions." James keyed a control panel on the display and the hologram vanished. He gave Spartan 092 a steady gaze. "Rest assured, we'll find our soldiers."

Jerome straightened up and gave a crisp salute that the Captain returned. With a click of his heels, the super soldier turned and started for the door with Anders in his wake.

"Big day planned," Serina muttered beside him.

Cutter snorted and smiled. "With any luck we can at least make it short." He scratched the hair behind his right ear and turned to Serina. "In the event that this alien AI would make its way aboard this ship, would you be able to defend yourself if it attacks?"

Serina was silent for a pair of seconds before straightening her back and nodding. "The Spirit of Fire will not fall into enemy hands, whether they be Covenant or other."

James eyed her curiously. Before she had been unexpectedly shut down, Serina would have made a joke about the situation, but with her new-old programming, she was exponentially more serious. While Cutter welcomed this change of attitude, there was a part of him that missed her dry sense of humor.

He nodded to Serina and started for the doorway leading out of the bridge. He had a full schedule to keep and a battle to prepare for.

As soon as Jerome entered the lift, he felt the brush of air against his side. He turned around and keyed the doors shut to find Ellen Anders smiling up at him to his left. He returned her expression and pulled her in for a hug and kiss. She smelled lovely to him, and couldn't help but reminisce on the previous night. "Last night was-"

But before he could answer, she kissed him again, this time full of the passion and desire they had shared only hours previous. She hugged him tighter.

Jerome felt his pulse quicken and his extremities flush with heat, but he slowly pulled out of the kiss and tucked her head underneath his chin. "I take it you missed me?"

Ellen laughed and bounced a fist off of his chest. "Don't act like you don't feel the same." He could feel her smile against his thin layers of clothing. "Yes, I missed you."

"Same here." Jerome sighed and held her at arms' length. He could read her deep desire to further their bodies' passionate entanglement from the night before, but the time frame wouldn't allow it. "We both have a lot to do today . . ." He trailed off and watched Ellen's smile soften.

"I know," she conceded, giving his forearms a squeeze. "Just promise me that when we're on our way back to UNSC-controlled space, you and I will delay our appointments in the Cryo Rooms."

Jerome gave her the biggest smile he could. "Count on it."

Nathan Parker awoke with the artificial dawn and the smell of fresh coffee wafting from a nearby cooker. He leaned forward from his inclined position on the large stone he had called a bed and worked his head around in several circles, eliciting a few cracks from his neck. Shuffling feet to his left made him focus on a pair of dirty boots caked in dried mud.

"Coffee?" asked a soft, female voice.

Nathan looked up to see Toril Holmen standing before him, holding two steaming mugs of the wake-up juice. Her long golden hair was draped over her right shoulder and breast, and she was smiling. "Sure," he croaked, immediately clearing his throat. "Sure," he repeated in a more humanoid fashion.

Toril bent down on one knee and gave him a mug. "It's hot."

Taking an experimental sip, he wasn't surprised to find the coffee hot, but he was amazed at the potency. "Strong enough to melt the face off an Elite." He gave her a curious look. "How long have you been up?" he asked, noting how fresh and awake she looked.

She shrugged and took a sip herself. "Woke up a little early and took a quick dip in the lake we found late last night. Had to backtrack a little, but the privacy was worth it."

Nodding, Nathan let the warmth from the mug spread into his hands. "Well, I wish I could have been there to see that," he murmured under his breath.

Toril gave him a backhanded slap across his armored chest but still smiled. "The things you miss while sleeping."

Nathan smiled back and felt himself steadily waking up with every second he looked into her brilliant blue eyes. He knew there was still a level of infatuation he had to work through, but there was such a warmth that accompanied Toril whenever she was present. And with their most recent relational revelation, Nathan wondered how much of his desire to know her was mutual.

"Up and at 'em," Sergeant Williams bellowed from a position relative North of where the two ODSTs sat.

And like most relationships in the military, ours will be put on hold. Nathan growled and took one gigantic swig from his mug, feeling the hot liquid burn both tongue and throat, and handed it back to Toril. "Let's go."

The makeshift campground was empty within half a minute of Williams' order and the UNSC force was again on the move. The troopers made it down the rocky hillside without incident and were soon in an orderly, two-column march.

They traversed through a large, rocky canyon only to find that halfway through, the temperature was beginning to fall sharply with each klick. The coldness quickly made those soldiers that had not donned on gloves to do so, and the slither of clouds creeping in soon blotted out the faux sunlight. Nathan could feel the chill in his bones and wondered just how cold it would get. But soon his armor adjusted its internal climate regulator and he began to feel more comfortable.

The sergeant's call to halt brought the company to a stop and news of an exit trickled down the line of soldiers. After a short respite the ODSTs were again moving, only this time through a tall, angular opening wide enough to permit two at a time. The doorway led them inside into a gray hall of equal measure that broke right then left in a zig-zag pattern. At the hall's end, there was a similar pair of doors bracketed in a soft green light.

The soldiers filed in that last straight stretch of hallway and Nathan watched Williams and Miller converse at the door's release panel. He wondered what could be waiting for them beyond the tall, angular opening, but if he was reading his waypoint correctly, they were getting very close to the source of the jamming. Nathan frowned and checked the distance again: 1.2 kilometers. Holy crap, we're close. He quickly looked up and wanted to shout the good news, but the passive looks he received told him most had forgotten their destination and its importance.

The double doors parted with a shudder and opened up into a wintry landscape. The ground was covered in fine white powder and even the few trees and rocks closest to the doorway were covered in snow. Tiny flakes fell lazily to the ground and the lack of a breeze made the moment surreal. It was as if the natural condition of the spire was to be in a state of winter but the environmental system had been shut off. Nathan knew it wasn't the case, but the peacefulness of the falling snow led him to believe he had stumbled into a dreamworld.

The two columns of ODSTs marched into the last section of their journey and Nathan could finally feel a sense of expectancy from his fellow troopers. The vastness of the final chamber was akin to their first encounter with the artificial environment, only this one was covered in snow. The ground rolled and rose at random intervals to suggest a giant had stomped his way through the snow, leaving huge divots and craters for others to climb and traverse. There was even a large crack running off to their left and Nathan followed it's jagged line to the distant angular shapes up ahead of him.

Beside him, Toril gasped. "Look at that."

Just as she commented, Nathan looked through the gentle snowy haze and spied what had caused her to shudder. Nearly a kilometer away there rose up a huge, triangular structure embedded in the snow and rock, as if it were a natural formation. Dark gray in color with a semi-reflective surface, the front of the structure looked like a giant portico, complete with triangular pillars, and the darkened interior spoke of hidden rooms and doorways. In a way it resembled a pyramid that had been turned 45 degrees and cut in half with a large portion of its midsection scooped out for easy access.

Nathan double-checked his waypoint and sure enough, the source of the jamming signal was coming from inside the structure, dead ahead.

"Form up by squads," Williams announced, his voice echoing off the distant rocky walls.

Toril and Nathan followed orders and joined up with the rest of Bravo at the front of the line. Since Williams was the de-facto leader of the entire contingency, his squad would take point. The sergeant assigned flanking positions to other squads and they were soon moving again.

The snow crunched underneath his feet, and Nathan Parker keep his eyes fixed on the colossal building. Through the snow, he thought he saw something moving under the portico. He then frowned and switched to his SRS Sniper Rifle, finally being able to take advantage of the weapon's range. He took a few galloping steps to move ahead of the group and bent down on one knee. Looking through the scope, he magnified his view. Nathan panned his sights back and forth but couldn't see any more movement.

Footsteps stopped at his side and Nathan heard Toril pull out her SMG. "You see something?"

Parker lifted his head and frowned. "I thought I did. Nothing, now."

She patted him on the shoulder. "All clear, Sir," Toril announced to Williams who was coming along side them.

Nathan slowly stood back up and joined the marching cadence, his nerves growing with each compacting step.

As the ODSTs started up the incline just right of center of the structure, Nathan felt a knot growing in his stomach. The outer design of the massive building spoke of some ancient sacrificial method where one would be led up any of the four straight inclines to gather under the covered, open area, only to be killed on site. Nathan knew it was completely ridiculous to think such a thought, but if any security forces wanted to attack from higher ground, the ODSTs wouldn't stand a chance.

He glanced over to his left where Sergeant Miller was leading the second group up the incline just left of center. The random slits in the three meter-high separation wall allowed brief glimpses of the soldiers, but every once in a while, there would be a break in the wall for a half dozen meters.

Upward they marched, until the crest was finally in view. The forward line spread out to cover every possible angle, and Nathan found himself beside Toril Holmen on the far right side. Williams held up a hand and the entire group stopped. Sergeant Williams trotted over to Miller and after a short talk both men looked over at Corporal Winters who was standing beside the separation wall. They waved the man forward and the ODST pulled out his datapad in transit.

Nathan tried to focus his attention on the dark interior of the structure, but kept finding his gaze drifting back to the conversing trio. Winters pointed towards the inner sanctum of the building and both sergeants nodded in approval.

Williams twirled a finger above his head and waved his hand three times, signaling the front three squads to move on ahead.

Taking a deep breath, Nathan started for the bobbing waypoint floating on his HUD. As soon as he reached the edge of the portico, his visor adjusted to the lower-level light and he found three pairs of doors spread out along the entrance. The pillars holding up the curved roof looked much bigger than what he had perceived from a distance, but the normal-sized doors would easily accommodate a single human, squashing the previous myth that the builders of the station were giants.

He took a position against the wall of the nearest doorway and Toril joined him at his side. She then tapped him on the shoulder and he leaned his head back, not taking his eyes off the translucent door. "What?"

"Move," she urged.

"Huh?"

Toril reached around and tapped his SRS. "You going to be sniping in there?"

Nathan's face flushed red and he swapped positions with her. He always felt comfortable with his chosen rifle, but common sense dictated someone with a closer-combative weapon should take first point. He wasn't even sure why he hadn't switched back to his M6 pistol, but something told him he might need the extra firepower.

Winters hurried over to the left side of the doorway and started pounding away on his datapad. While there was no release panel that Parker could see, the door did retract into the ground when the fellow corporal entered in his final command.

Toril led Bravo Team through and Nathan wasn't surprised to find another wonder of alien technology awaiting them. He first noticed the three blue shafts of energy pulsing up from the center of the giant room to vanish into a section of the ceiling that dipped down to just a dozen meters. A ring of consoles formed a half-circle around the shafts and their flashing lights spoke of their current use. Ramps leading to an opened upper level wrapped around the outer edges of the room, giving the appearance of an observational balcony for supervisors to monitor their laborers below.

And at even intervals of ten meters, where the walls met the ceiling, were multiple round hatches with a single green light placed at their base. Nathan had not seen that particular feature before and wondered what their purpose was.

"Winters," Sergeant Williams called out from the center doorway.

"Sir," the ODST responded, turning to face his commander.

"Take Tanner, here, and see about disabling the jamming signal." Williams motioned for the tall, lanky soldier to detach himself from the far left group. "He's the tech specialist from Miller's squad and if the two of you can't end this comm blackout-"

"We're on it," Winters blurted out before Williams could complete his sentence. The corporal nodded his head for Tanner to follow and the two started for the array of blinking consoles.

"Defensive pattern Alpha," Williams ordered. "Bravo and Charlie Teams take the high road."

Beside Parker, Toril grumbled a complaint. "Means we'll be the last ones out."

Nathan shrugged and started for the ramp to his right that would lead them up to the second level. "C'mon." He knew his sergeant wasn't taking any chances by leaving holes in the defense, but the given pattern was susceptible to crossfire if things got hairy.

On the second floor, it was much more a bisected platform than it was an actual story. The floor wrapped around the front of the room in a curved walkway, and the waist-high railing framed the edges where the level stopped well short of the energy shafts. Nathan imagined from a bird's eye view it would have looked like someone had taken a bite off the second story to form two symmetrical balconies.

Toril pointed to their right and they both took a position deeper into the room along the corner closest to the shafts. The balcony only jutted out a dozen meters at the widest point, but the length of it had the rest of Bravo spread thin. Directly across from them, on the other side of the chamber, were two members from Charlie Team and Toril waved at them.

The one ODST holding an MA5B gave a mock salute while the other gave an unfriendly hand gesture.

"And that's why you're on Charlie Team," Toril sighed.

Nathan couldn't help but chuckle. He knelt down next to her and looked over the railing at Winters and Tanner hammering away at the alien consoles. "Think they can crack it?"

"Let's hope so. This place gives me the creeps."

Nathan couldn't agree more.

Bren slipped into the comfort of his private quarters and badly wanted to fall into bed and rest. But instead he sealed the door behind him and walked into his personal washroom. He quickly pulled the pain suppression meds from his pouch that he had retrieved from the Armory and injected the blue liquid into his bare neck. He fought against the agonizing sensation and soon the pain in his back subsided to a tolerable level.

He took a deep breath- his first in a while- and tossed the discarded injector onto the counter top. He waited till the numbness in his neck faded then resisted the urge to throw up. Bren had never needed to be on such a high dose of pain meds, and he wasn't expecting such intense disorientation from the drugs. He stumbled back into his room and collapsed into the chair at his desk.

His body was telling him to stop and rest, but Bren's mind was racing with thoughts. He abruptly sat up and turned on his terminal. He quickly accessed the crew list and searched for the pilot, Jakli Themul. When the information pulled up on the holoscreen, he leaned back to read the text and frowned.

Jakli Themul had been a decorated Seraph fighter pilot with exceptional distinction in the Helos Moon Conflict. He had led his squadron against a numerically superior foe and not only managed to eliminate the Kig-yar fighters, but with daring strafing runs, they brought down a Heavy Cruiser. After receiving recognition for his gallantry, Jakli requested a transfer to Special Operations and it was granted with little delay from the Military Tribunal.

Bren's frown deepened and he narrowed his eyes. There was a period of four Lunar cycles where Jakli's whereabouts were unaccounted for. And it just happened to be right before he took the position as a Phantom pilot aboard Unwavering Fortitude.

Then suddenly Bren recalled where he had heard the pilot's name. It was the shared clan name of the notorious assassin Zal Themulee.

Nearly a hundred years ago, Zal was convicted of assassinating a high-ranking Sangheili Councilman while the politician was consorting with another Councilman's mate. The only thing that had tied Zal to the murder was a few trace fibers found in the victim's pool of blood. Zal was silent during his trial, and never lived to be executed; he committed suicide by ingesting a vile of grapri in his holding cell. But no one knew how he had gotten access to the deadly poison.

Years later, Zal Themulee was traced to nearly a dozen political homicides. The authorities had tried to find out if Themulee had any accomplices or handlers, but the trail went cold with Zal- though fears of a secret, organized group spread like wildfire.

Bren swallowed past the lump in his throat. The only reason he knew of Zal's story was because Bren's father had told him of his Honor Guard grandfather that was murdered right about the time Zal had made his circuit through the Council ranks. "An innocent bystander" is what the authorities concluded. "Must have walked in on the assassin," is what they had said.

Trepidation swelled in Bren's mind as the worst of fears found a foothold in his thoughts. Has Zal's offspring come to personally eradicate my clan in the form of a Spec Ops assassin? Why would I be a target? Bren took another deep breath and forced himself to relax. Surely there was no way a Phantom pilot would risk killing his Ship Master. Especially not here, at this Forerunner Relic

But then a shiver ran up Bren's spine. As far as he knew, there was no other Covenant alive on the ship, no one to witness and report such a mutinous act. But why hasn't he tried already? Jakli had all the time in the galaxy to kill him in the privacy of the Phantom.

Bren growled at his circumstances, feeling more like he was on top of a Jjrahli tree, being swayed in the breeze of confusion. He couldn't decide what to make of the pilot with incriminating ties. He straightened up in his chair and closed the crew manifest list. Regardless of Jakli's intentions, Bren still needed the pilot's help. If he could keep Jakli occupied and elsewhere, Bren just might make it back to the safety of Covenant-controlled space in one piece.

But first thing's first; he needed to take back control of Unwavering Fortitude.

Bren worked his mandibles and began the tedious process of accessing the root programs that would allow him to enter his override commands. And if he couldn't get that to work, he would have the pilot reset the Core- or die trying.

An incessant beeping from the center of the room caused Nathan's eyes to widen and look downward. Winters was hunched over one of the consoles while Tanner was at his side, shaking his head. The lights on all the consoles flashed in tandem for a few seconds before settling on a collective yellow hue. Winters exchanged a look with Tanner, but neither said a word.

"What's going on?" Sergeant Miller demanded from the central doorway. He marched over and looked at the blank holoscreen. "Did you shut it down?"

"I . . . don't think so." Winters held out his datapad to find the screen also blank. He tapped a few keys to no effect. "We're locked out," he said, sounding more confused than disappointed.

"Try again," Williams said, joining them from his spot along the consoles' end.

"It won't work," Tanner rumbled. He pressed a panel under one of the holoscreens and was greeted with a negative tone. "We're locked out of the system."

Nathan watched Sergeant Williams' stance straighten. He could tell his commander was as frustrated as the two techs, but the sergeant quickly waved over two more men. "Then it's plan B."

Parker sighed and leaned back on his haunches. He looked over at Toril and shook his head. "Time to light the charges."

"When in doubt, blow it up," Toril said, citing one of the many slogans the Marines had coined.

He sighed and let his gaze drift over the other soldiers gathered in the large room. Most looked on edge and a few even looked antsy, bobbing from one foot to the other like a runner before a race. But when he looked over at the two men of Charlie Team that mirrored their own position on the second floor, a brief flicker of the green light on the base of the hatch above the distant pair made Nathan look up.

The octagonal hatches were opening.