Since many people are asking, I'll explain why they can't just "bomb the citadel." The Gravemind, as explained in earlier parts is essentially an organic computer which can form anywhere the Flood are. If you just blow it up, it'll form again, somewhere and sometime. The only way to totally destroy it, and prevent it from ever returning is by injecting it with Mendicant Bias' virus, which will cripple the Flood network.
I thought I'd explained this before, it must have been in a chapter which I deleted to rewrite. Apologies. Thanks for reading, and if you don't already, please review.
Part 37 - Rallying the troops
Captain Daniels, the newly appointed head of the UNSC fleet by default, bit the lower half of his lip nervously.
He was expected to just take up the mantle and lead the fleet to glorious victory. The truth was that Daniels didn't have a clue about what to do. The Flood had stopped firing for a few moments, and seemed to be recharging their ship shields. The fleets attacking them were content to let them do so -- their own shields could do with a bit of a boost.
That give him time, then, to assimilate control over the armada he now commanded. Thankfully, he wasn't alone in the battle.
"Steel yourself for what must be done Captain. There shall be time to grieve after the battle," the Prophet of Equanimity consoled him through a video link.
"The Prophet speaks the truth human. You must now keep a sound mind, if we are to buy our ground forces enough time," Imperial Admiral R'tas 'Vadum concurred, folding his arms.
"Thank you for your wise words. What do you think I should do now?" Graham questioned the two other leaders. R'tas stroked his jaw thoughtfully.
"Take advantage of this temporary cease fire in order to reorientate your fellows. Send out ships to recover the lifeboats which escaped detonating ships," R'tas began to advise. "I then suggest you make a speech to your warriors; they will be disheartened due to the destruction of your flagship. Rekindle the flame that now burns dimly inside of them."
"And be prepared. The Flood could attack once again at any moment. Keep your shields up at all times," Equanimity cautioned, with a knowing waggle of the finger.
"Keep your wits about you Captain. We know you will do Harper proud," R'tas finished off.
"Roger that. Daniels out."
The video link cut off.
Graham sighed, taking a quick swig of Vodka. Not enough to addle his mind though. He then moved to a secure intercom, and signalled the 3rd Fleet, instructing them to recover all lifeboats giving out a beacon. The Lieutenant Commander who had replaced the now dead Captain who had commanded the fleet affirmed his orders.
Make a speech to your warriors. The words of R'tas ringed inside Graham's mind. He'd never been very good at speeches -- his brother was a politician, not he. Still, R'tas had been right in saying that morale was at a low. It would hearten the soldiers to hear their leader's voice.
Coming to a decision, the Captain opened up a UNSC fleet wide communications link, taking in a deep breath. He was aware that countless humans would be listening to his every word.
"Men and women of the United Nations Space Command Navy," he began formally, pacing up and down the secluded command bridge. "This is Captain Graham Daniels speaking, acting commander of the UNSC. I want to begin this speech by commending every last one of you for your service today. We are, all of us, making history on this day. A thousand years from now, seminars and lectures will be held on our actions. Every previous conflict in human history pales in comparison to this battle. Even the Battle of Reach is dwarfed by the conflict we are now engaged in."
Daniels wasn't sure whether or not he was making a complete fool of himself, but he decided to trudge on regardless.
"For we are not just fighting over resources, or to gain land, or even to protect a colony. We are fighting, my fellow humans, to put to rest once and for all the deadliest threat this galaxy has ever faced."
He took a drink from his flask to wet his lips.
"The Forerunners, an ancient race which existed 100,000 years ago, were destroyed by the Flood, as I'm sure you all know. But they were not humanity. They lacked the drive we possess, the adaption we possess. Our fighting spirit. We held out against the Covenant Empire when they were engaged in their genocidal campaign, and not only that; we beat the technologically and numerically superior Covenant and sent them scurrying into the nearest asteroid cluster they could find. And now, they and the Elites turn to we, humanity, for help to defeat a common and greater enemy."
"I won't lie, many of you will die out there today. But you will die with the taste of victory on your lips, and years from now, people will look back at you all as heroes, as saviours who fought for their very existence. The Flood think they can just roll over humanity, and that we will lie down and let them. I implore you, my friends -- my brothers and sisters -- to show them just how wrong they are! We will hold the line together, as one, and we shall force the Flood back into whatever dark corner of space they dared to creep out from!"
Suddenly, a wave of cheering broke out from the other ends of the fleetcom, the sound nearly deafening Graham. He blinked, snapping out of the trance like state he had entered when making his speech.
Did I really just say all that? he wondered in reverie, wearing a foolish grin. Glancing around the command bridge, he saw that the Ensigns and Lieutenants who helped him pilot the Galapagos were staring up and him with nothing but pure respect and admiration.
"Quite a speech human. You even sent a shiver down my spine," R'tas praised, appearing on a video screen.
"You were listening in?" Daniels questioned, slightly disturbed by the fact that his speech -- aimed at humans alone -- had reached alien ears.
"My curiosity got the better of me I'm afraid. You have successfully rallied your troops, far better than I would have ever hoped. There is no doubt in my mind that every soldier in every UNSC ship would die in the name of your species this day," the Elite told Graham. The Captain frowned -- was what R'tas said true? He didn't like the idea of deaths being on his hands, even if indirectly.
"If luck is on our side, hopefully it won't come to that Imperial Admiral."
* * * * * * * *
"We've been holed up here for a while now. Outside got too hot, and our unit had been drastically reduced in size. Most of it is out there now, fighting unwillingly for the other side," Sergeant Johnson explained, talking even as he lined up his sniper scope with the head of a Flood Tank form. The beast was engaged with a few ODSTs, and seemed to be winning the fight.
"You've done a good job defending this place," Relg complimented, reclining in a chair underneath a portion of the roof which still stood standing.
"Of course," Johnson stated modestly, pulling the trigger of the sniper as he did so. The .60 calibre round cut through the air, embedding firmly in the cranium of the Tank form. It raised it's large, clumsy hands to its head for a moment, as if in puzzlement. The body still hadn't realised the mind was dead. After a few seconds though, it tumbled to the ground, where it lay still evermore.
The ODSTs which had been fighting it looked towards the source of the killing shot, and through his scope Johnson saw them give a salute of thanks. Even though he knew they wouldn't be able to see it, Johnson saluted back.
"The Engineer helped; setting up turrets and shields. He doesn't speak much -- I don't think he even understands what's going on to be honest. Still, he's damn good at his job, I'll give him that."
The Jackal beside Johnson fired a shot, causing the floor he was lying on to tremble ever so slightly.
"So Relg, what's your plan? I hope you don't plan to sit in that chair drinking tea all day," he frowned at the Elite, who put his mug down with a chuckle.
"Don't be ridiculous. I plan on leaving with Malkor as soon as he has gathered up our weapons. I'd prefer to be modest now, but I really can't -- we are both incredible warriors. Together, we will make a real difference in the battle," Relg explained, looking awkward as he described his skill.
"Oh yeah? And where do you plan to go? Will you link up with the main army?" Johnson questioned further, letting loose another round; one which threw a small Flood soldier which was operating a turret out of its seat and into a pool of its own blood.
"I doubt it. We would be too constricted by the masses. No, we'd probably work best as a separate force, cutting through on our own. You say a task force has been sent to infiltrate the Citadel?" the Light of Helios questioned.
"Yeah, led by the Master Chief. We're all just one big diversion really, the real battle will take place inside the heart of that palace over there. They're planning on killing the Gravemind."
Relg's brow rose, and he scratched his chin thoughtfully.
"Truly? Then it would seem our destination is the Citadel; we will link up with the task force and assist them in taking down their target," the Elite stated boldly. Johnson was so surprised by his words that the next shot he fired missed its target, nearly hitting a Brute Chieftain swinging around a Gravity Hammer.
"You're going inside the Citadel? Are you crazy? There's an entire legion of Flood between us and those front doors."
"And that legion shall soon be reduced to dust," Relg proclaimed proudly, pounding his chest.
"The two of you will never make it on foot. You'll be picked off by sniper's as soon as you enter their field of site."
There was silence for a few moments.
"Not if we move too fast for them to shoot us," Relg mused, smiling. Johnson narrowed his eyes at him.
"What do you mean?" he asked. The Light of Helios informed the Sergeant of his plan. Johnson digested the information for a few moments before replying.
"You're insane. Your plan is insane. I'm coming with you."
* * * * * * * *
"I'm picking up a blip sir," Petty Officer Jacobs reported to his superior, indicating the radar on the Longsword fighter's dashboard.
"Another lifeboat?" Ensign Lawson asked Jacobs, leaning forward. The PO nodded.
"Looks like it. Air supplies are low; it seems to be from the Soul of Ice. Strange, I didn't think any lifeboats got clear of the explosion..."
"We're close to bingo fuel Jacobs. Do you think we should?"
"With all due respect sir, the shuttle's life support seems to be failing. If we head back to refuel now, the occupants could be dead by the time we return."
Lawson sighed, wrestling with the choice before him. He was receiving a visual now, and sure enough, saw a lifeboat spinning around in free float. Finally, a decision was made.
"All right, let's help these people. Move closer and attach the shuttle Petty Officer. We'll both head on board and move the survivors onto the Longsword. Then we'll head back to the Galapagos, Captain Daniels is going to need us at the controls when the fighting breaks out again."
* * * * * * * * * *
Ten minutes later, Phillip Eden stood impassively over the motionless corpses of Petty Officer Jacobs and Ensign Lawson. The pistol he held in his hand trailed smoke, and his grimy Admiral's uniform was splattered with blood.
"Forgive me, I did what had to be done," Eden whispered, bending down and sliding the two naval soldier's eyes closed.
The two had docked with Eden's shuttle, and had soon boarded. The scene they had found was not one they had expected. Rather than a shuttle full of relieved crew members, they had found a disgraced Admiral they believed dead aiming an M6C at them.
Why hadn't they just stood down? I would have been content to just tie them up and leave them unharmed, Eden thought regretfully. But no, the two had immediately tried to reach for their assasult rifles, and had left Eden with no choice other than to kill them. A more skilled soldier could have perhaps merely maimed them badly; but Eden was not such a man. He'd actually missed the second shot, and had been forced for a few seconds to listen to Lawson's screams of pain.
Remorse could come later; right now Eden had a job to do. No, not a job, a duty. To his species.
Stepping over the bodies, Eden moved into the Longsword, shutting the door on the gruesome scene he left behind.
Expertly, he started up the Longsword engine and detached from the now lifeless shuttle. With careful deliberation, he input the coordinates for the UNSC Galapagos, and began to prepare his plan.