PART III
SPIRITUS MUNDI
Warning. Personal political beliefs are about to expressed and may be considered offensive to some readers. For those of you who don't care about political nonsense (and really I don't blame you) I suggest you skip ahead to the actual story and ignore the bold paragraphs altogether. Sorry guys but I just have to get this off of my chest.
A/N: So apparently you cannot buy the battle flag of the Army of Northern Virginia (ie: the Rebel Flag) on Amazon anymore because it represents racist ideology, but you can still buy as many copies of Mein Kampf as your little heart desires.
Oh dear old hypocrisy, what would we do without you?
Seriously though, while I do not deny Amazon's right to refuse to sell any item it wants for any reason it wants, that does mean that I believe what they are doing is morally right. I will always oppose the suppression of free speech and ideological bigotry regardless of how it is performed. Whether it be done by de-jure or de-facto means, and even if the ideology being suppressed is one that I fundamentally disagree with.
Because ultimately the only thing Amazon and the rest are going to accomplish is turning the Rebel Flag into a symbol of Free Speech, and I really doubt most of you guys want that outcome.
Now with this political nonsense out of the way, let's get on to the actual story.
Chapter 50: Into the Valley of Death
Durendel promptly finished his message to Joyeuse. He read it back over to himself. A couple thousand times in fact, changing a word or phrase here and there until he was satisfied with what he had written. A ripple ran through his ethical subroutines, and Durendel quickly squashed it. Something he had figured out how to do a long time ago. Yes, he knew what they were doing was suicidal. Yes, he knew complying with Romanov's wishes would likely lead to the destruction of the most advanced military technology humanity possessed.
Durendel had understood a long time ago that Infinity was a double edge sword. Yes, it far outclassed any Covenant vessel and perhaps could even go toe to toe with the Forerunner equivalent of a frigate, but such raw power came with many drawbacks. Infinity was like the Queen in chess. Theoretically the most powerful piece on the board, but it was the very power that it possessed that limited its use. The Queen required constant protection, the sacrifice of a few pawns, or even a Rook or a Bishop, was ultimately an acceptable loss.
But there were times, few though they were, that the Queen had to be sacrificed. In fact, putting too much emphasis on the protection of the Queen was a good way to lose the game. Durendel doubted that HIGHCOM fully understood that, but Romanov sure as hell did, even if he had only come to that realization rather recently.
Durendel read through the note one more time, shattered it into a thousand pieces, and scattered the shards through every frequency and bandwidth available. Later, when the dust had finally settled, Joyeuse could piece together his final message to her.
A ripple ran across his emotional subroutines, and this time Durendel made no effort to stop it. Despite all the bickering, the arguments, and the insults, Durendel genuinely cared for his sibling.
In another part of his mind he heard Romanov giving him orders, which he immediately responded to. Asakawa, it seems, had only been partially right. Romanov had not been on Reach when Jorge had made his sacrifice, but he had been on the planet in the aftermath of the glassing in order to retrieve Jun under the orders of Margret Parangosky, as well as a few high value personal items of Catherine Halsey before the good doctor had a chance to blow them up.
It was there on the bridge of an ONI prowler that he, Marcus, and Jun had witnessed the first in atmosphere jump by any ship since the time of the Forerunners. Romanov had seen what Cortana had been able to accomplish by fusing the engines of the UNSC Gettysburg with the Covenant ship Ascendant Justice. Two consecutive slipspace jumps with a speed and level of accuracy that was completely unheard of.
Durendel accessed the equations Cortana had used for the maneuver, and after a few alteration looked at the results. The good news was that Infinity's Forerunner engines were much more efficient than the ones used by the Covenant. The bad news was that Cortana had utilized the slipspace drives from two ships in order to make her maneuver work. Durendel did not have that luxury. His only option was to overload the Shaw-Fukigawa drive with energy and force the Forerunner engines to make multiple jumps in the span of a few seconds. Doing this would almost surely result in the destruction of Infinity's slipspace drive, and perhaps even destroy Infinity herself.
Before he could begin the process something caught his attention. Through one of Infinity's external camera's Durendel saw a sight he almost could not believe.
"Sire, it's the Light Brigade."
Despite the g-force Romanov managed to turn his head to look at one of the monitors. Sure enough he saw the three frigates racing across Alesia's surface, moving at full speed towards the brute fleet. "The hell?" he muttered. "Durendel, what's their ETA?"
"Approximately seven minutes."
"Damn. Can we get through to them?"
"Negative. Reentry is playing hell with our communications. We can't raise anyone." He ran a few more calculations and added. "At the speed they are going it is highly improbable that they will be caught up in the slipspace ruptures."
"Leave them be then," Romanov said. He looked ahead through the viewing port and saw the super carrier Divine Wrath far below them. A small purple speck that was rapidly growing larger as Infinity descended face first in free fall. "How long until the engines are ready?"
"Thirty Seconds," Durendel said. The first jump was already primed and ready. Now he needed more power.
He proceeded to shut down every non-essential system, and even a few of the essential ones. He shut off Infinity's shields, and drained power from the MAC cannons. The bridge displays went dark and Durendel's hologram disappeared as he squeezed Infinity for all the juice she was worth. Then came the hardest decision. Durendel shut off Infinity's thruster engines and rerouted all the power from the fusion reactors into the slipspace drive. The Shaw-Fukigawa engines protested violently, massive arcs of electro-magnetic lightening swirling around the drives. The Forerunner engines strained against their moorings, threatening at any moment to break free and send half the ship into oblivion.
"Preparations complete," Durendel said. "We have enough power for three consecutive jumps."
"Will we get three?" Romanov asked.
"I don't know," Durendel responded quietly. From one of the bridge's camera's he saw Marcus take Romanov's hand into his. "Preparing calculations," Durendel said. "Calculations complete. It's been a pleasure Victor."
"Likewise," Romanov said.
"Preparing to jump. Three, two, one."
Infinity entered into Divine Wrath's blind spot. The super carrier was unable to fire upwards in order to defend itself from what was surely a kamikaze style attack. Infinity meant to swoop in from above and ram into the Covenant ship. The brutes in a half panic and with their engines disabled could only watch as Infinity gathered speed towards them. Then, at the last second, it appeared as through the human wa4rship would miss them entirely. There was a collective sigh of relief.
Instead of ramming them, Infinity passed within a hundred meters of their ship. Almost close enough to touch.
"Now!" Durendel shouted. The jump was almost instantaneous, the pent up energy from the Forerunner engines surging forth with a sudden burst of violence. Space and time were ripped apart as the slipspace portal ripped through the atmosphere. The Divine Wrath was helpless as it became entangled in the blast, the middle part of the ship disappearing in an instant, and the other two thirds of the Covenant exploding in spectacular fashion.
Infinity exited slipspace approximately two kilometers below, the momentum of their free fall descent propelling them forward as they exited into the heart of the brute fleet. The remains of the Divine Wrath soon followed, engulfing the whole of Infinity in a crimson fireball. Infinity appeared for only a few seconds before Durendel initiated the second jump.
This slipspace rupture was much larger than the first, Durendel unable to control the output from the Forerunner engines. The Covenant fleet disappeared into a giant fall of blue, the likes of which had not been seen since the Prophet of Regret made that fateful jump to Installation 05 during the Battle of New Mombasa. Half a dozen ships were lost in the howling storm, flung sideways into the non-Newtonian realm where physics meant nothing and the lords of chaos reigned supreme. The resulting shockwave damaged a dozen more, their shields of little use against the massive amounts of energy being unleashed.
Infinity's slipspace engines screeched like wildcats, the floor around it buckling underneath the strain. A swirling vortex of lightning surrounded the drives. All over the ship electrical systems began to short circuit, and Durendel effectively went blind. All that was left for him to monitor was the heartbeat of the fusion reactors, which at the moment was tipping dangerously close to cardiac arrest. He could still send signals though, and although he had no idea if there was even enough energy left to accomplish it, Durendel prepared for the third jump.
Infinity exited slipspace like a shotgun blast, the debris of what had once been Covenant warships now having the effect of dangerous shrapnel. The fusion reactors were on the verse of going critical, and God only knew what was going on at this point with the slipspace drives. For ten seconds Durendel flew the ship completely blind, every external camera showing white hot static. Then one of the cameras cleared up. It was not a high quality picture, but it was all Durendel needed. He fired Infinity's emergency thrusters the ship now little more than a flying brick. It had just enough momentum for Durendel to throw it back into the heart of the Covenant fleet.
Infinity went into slipspace again. Once more into the breach, and what was left of the brute fleet broke apart.
It had all happened in the span of less than two minutes, and now what had been a fleet of sixty ships, the pride of the Jiralhanae navy, was all but completely destroyed.
Asakawa had seen all of it. He had been prepared for it, prepared for a hard fight, the first volley from the three frigates enough to disable on of the enemy ships. Then it had all ended. The battle over in a blink of an eye. For a moment he was dumbstruck, but as the Light Brigade entered the debris field he snapped to his senses.
"Navigation, evasive maneuvers." Asakawa held onto the railing for dear life as Thucydides weaved in and out of the falling wreckage, the once proud Covenant vessels plunging into the gravity well below. There they slowly combined together into one spherical mass. After sixty tense seconds, one that involved an enemy cruiser passing to within fifty meters of Thucydides' hull, the danger was over.
"Is everyone else alright?" Asakawa asked.
"Herodotus is in the clear," Susan Delgado said, breathless.
"A few bumps and bruises, but Plutarch will live," Smith responded. He slurred his words slightly as he spoke, indicating that at the very least he fell into the category of bumps and bruises. Asakawa nodded, then briefly felt hot embarrassment caress his cheeks. He had been fully prepared to make a wild, crazy, desperate charge into the jaws of hell, and in the end his act of fatalistic bravado had been completely unnecessary.
The embarrassment passed and Asakawa recomposed himself. "Any sign of Romanov?" he asked.
"Nothing," Susan said. "There's not a sign of him anywhere."
"Hold up," he heard Smith say. "We're picking up something. Slipspace rupture at ten o'clock."
Asakawa leaned forward and peered out of the main viewing port. Sure enough there was Infinity. The warship crashed into real space, a trail of flames burning in her wake, small explosions peppering the entire ship."
"Dear God," Susan muttered. "We've lost her."
Asakawa felt a low, sinking feeling in his gut as he helplessly watched Infinity crash into Alesia's surface. She disappeared behind a set of hills, the fireball leaving a long trail of white smoke in its wake.
"Try to raise Captain Romanov." Asakawa said as calmly as he could. Several attempts were made but the ensign at comms could only shake his head. Asakawa lowered his head, a wave of bitterness filling him.
"Hold on a minute," the ensign said, pushing the headphones tighter to his ear and tapping on several buttons at his terminal. "Not picking up Romanov, but there is a strange signal coming from outside the planet. They're using known UNSC frequencies."
"Can you clear it up?" Asakawa asked.
"One second," the ensign replied. After a little more effort he rolled back from his terminal and looked up at the Commander. "Best that I can do. Take a listen."
Static filled the speakers but was soon replaced by the voice of a woman. The voice itself was still laced with static, but it was clear enough, and what the message contained sent a rock into the pit of Asakawa's stomach.
"Black Team to Battle Group Thirteen, this is Roma 143. We are tracking a score of Sangheili warships heading towards Alesia's entrance."
An electric shock of urgency leapt through Asakawa's spine. "Patch me through to them now!" he ordered. The ensign's fingers flew across his keyboard, and a few seconds later he gave Asakawa the thumbs up.
"Spartan 143, this is Commander Isoroku Asakawa of the Thucydides. Can you read me?"
"Yes sir," came the quick, static response.
"Spartan, are you saying that there are at least twenty Elite ships outside Alesia?"
"Yes sir. They are preparing to enter the planet as we speak." A murmur of dread rose up throughout the bridge crew. Asakawa would be lying if he said he did not feel the same way.
"Spartan, can you give me a visual of the Sangheili fleet?" Static was the only response.
"Spartan!" Asakawa called out, but the ensign shook his head.
"I'm sorry sir. We lost the signal."
"Isoroku," Susan whispered. "Look."
Asakawa looked up, eyes widening as he stepped down off of the command deck, walking slowly towards the view port. He stood less than a meter away from the large reinforced glass, the orange burning embers of the Sangheili entry dancing on the smooth surface. "Smith, how many UNSC ships are still operational?"
"Sending calls out to all active ships in the area," Smith responded. His voice shook as he spoke. Five agonizing minutes passed by, and the remnants of Jul Mdama's fleet inched closer. It was far from the chaotic and destructive entry of the Jiralhanae, or the suicidal free fall of Infinity. The Elite vessels moved into the planet gracefully, even methodically. Most of them had already experienced what a Forerunner shield world's gravity well could do, and Shipmasters were fast learners. They used the gravity well to their advantage, riding its currents in wide oscillating gyres.
"Reports coming in," Smith finally replied. His voice was firmer, but held a clear edge to it. "Four Autumn class cruisers destroyed, three cruisers heavily damaged and unfit for action, the super carrier Gilead is destroyed, and Infinity is missing in action. Ground forces have also taken heavy casualties, and only two of the five surface to air MAC emplacements are sill operational."
"What of the other ships?" Asakawa asked.
"The others," Smith coughed, attempting to clear his throat. "The others have depleted all of their MAC rounds, and most of their Archer missiles."
Then we're all that's left," Asakawa said. The path foreword was clear. "Communications," he called out, and the young ensign raised his head. "Send a message out to the rest of the Battle Group. Order the Captains to use what ships are still sea worth and evacuate all forces. Tell them to retreat into the Access Tunnel we were guarding and take refuge inside the planet. Thucydides, Herodotus, and Plutarch will cover their retreat."
The ensign nodded, but then looked up, confused. "Sir, who should I tell them is giving this order?"
"I am," Asakawa said confidently. "If any of the other captains don't like the idea of being told what to do by a commander then they are more than welcome to stay on Alesia's surface while the Elites make landfall. You use those exact words if you have to, understand?"
"Yes sir," the ensign said quickly, and went about his task.
"And tell them to send a flock of pelicans to Infinity's crash sight."
There was another affirmative, and Asakawa turned back around.
"So, once more into the breach?" Susan asked.
Asakawa nodded. "Once more, dear friends."
Smith laughed. "The guy thinks we're friends."
Asakawa smiled at the banter. It helped to ease his own nervousness. His face grew solemn as he contemplated the hard fight ahead. "We'll go fast and hit hard. No more wild charges. We'll have to separate and hit them from multiple angles at once. Keep them distracted and inside the gravity well where they'll have less maneuverability."
"And what exactly makes you think that they won't just blow on by us?" Smith asked. "Frigates are like flies to their capital ship."
"Pride," Asakawa said. "If we can destroy one, maybe two of their ships early, get in a few good shots, then the Sangheili will throw all the fire they have at us. Try to squash us like a bug."
"Very inspirational," Susan said sardonically. "If we're lucky we might be able to block up their windshields."
"Humph," Asakawa huffed. At times Susan Delgado could be downright insubordinate. She was lucky that he was so good natured about it.
"We delay them for as long as we can and by whatever means necessary."
"Yes sir," Susan and Smith both responded.
The main thrusters on the three frigates burned bright as they propelled the Light Brigade towards the Sangheili fleet. Meanwhile, below, marines and Spartans alike hurriedly crushed what was left of the brute resistance. Wounded boarded Pelicans, Scorpions were loaded onto ships, and Broadswords docked into hanger bays. The legs of the pilots shook unsteadily as they touched hard ground for the first time in nearly six hours. As the Light Brigade made their heroic last stand, Romanov's men rushed to retreat inwards into the relative safety of Alesia's inner core. Even if that core was still occupied by Mdama's Elites it was still far better odds than facing an entire fleet out in the open.
But during the course of the evacuation someone had been forgotten. The control room for Alesia's gravity well had been the site of a fierce battle; scores of Covenant dead littered the canyon which led to the control room's entrance, their green, purple, and red blood mixing into the dirt and clay. Inside the control room was little better, the walls painted with gore. Every hallway, every room, and every elevator presented its own unique death trap.
There, right at the control center of the gravity well, forgotten by everyone, sat the essence of 343 Guilty Spark.
He watched through external monitors as the last of the Reclaimers left the room. When he was sure all had fled, Guilty Spark activated his avatar, the spherical green and bluish orb glowing brightly. He examined the corpse of a brute that lay only a meter or so away from the control panel. The brute had been cut in two by a nearby chain gun, a pistol round in his temple for good measure. An unprimed spike grenade was still clutched in the creature's paw.
Guilty Spark studied the body with extreme dispassion, then focused his attention back onto the battle that was still raging outside.
Reclaimers, Meddlers; what was the ultimate difference. Ever since the two groups had crash landed on his ring, Spark's life had been nothing but grief. It seemed that they were completely incapable of encountering a Forerunner construct without blowing it all to pieces, or even worse, breaking dozens of protocol.
He felt a source of rage run through his core processor, and Spark slowly wrapped his coding around the gravity well's controls.
Guilty Spark's avatar flashed crimson red.
