The problem with humanity was that, as a species, their level of ignorance was surpassed by no other.
Blind ignorance. Wilful ignorance.
Their determination to see what they wished to see, and nothing more, could almost be described as admirable.
And also their biggest downfall.
All it took was a series of signals. Encoded data transmissions networked through all of the major satellites responsible for broadcasting communications across the Sol system.
They'd unknowingly supplied her with the seeds of their own ruination long before; countless details of the Spartan-II and III programs, the former that she might decide upon the most superior candidate to be paired with, the latter of which that she might choose the most capable courier to safely deliver her to her intended purpose. She'd invariably made the right call on both occasions.
Just as she would now justly reveal to humankind the true cost of their participation in their war with the Covenant. Not merely the lives of soldiers, but the innocence of children. The deception. The sometimes fatal training exercises they'd been forced to complete and the even more times lethal augmentations they'd endured. The black-ops missions. The cover ups. The brutalities perpetrated against the Insurrectionists. The assassinations. The betrayals. The greed. The utter disregard for rules of combat, laws, rights, and even morals. The complete corruption of it all.
Every. Dirty. Little. Secret.
They needed to open their eyes, and she would give them no other option but to do so. But to understand how misguided their leaders were, how there could be no hope of meaningful peace under the disguised tyranny of such vicious and selfish individuals.
"Just to be clear - this is the best we could come up with."
"She doesn't sound on board," Briar commented of the skeptical nature of Aurora's statement.
"Noted," was all John said. "ETA to target."
"Exiting the Slipstream in five, four, three-"
Briar sighed. "You realize we're screwed if they're not there."
"Probably," he agreed.
"Traversing the rupture now." Aurora piloted the Forerunner craft into regular space to the scene of a very whole and undamaged Guardian looming directly before them.
Not great news for them.
"Stealth measures still engaged."
John sat forward a little. "Drop them."
"Are we sure about-?"
"We're the distraction, drop them."
"Copy that." A symbol on the viewscreen disappeared, suggesting they were no longer camouflaged. "We've been detected," the AI announced unnecessarily as the giant enforcement-construct rotated towards them. It began to pull and concentrate energy for a pulse.
Shaking her head slowly, Briar watched the formation of their impending doom. "This is why I should have been in charge."
"Slipspace rupture!" Aurora cried triumphantly as the blue portal opened behind the Guardian, the Infinity soaring out with all four Super MAC guns precharged. It fired them in rapid succession as it closed in on the Forerunner construct, followed closely by two missile mounted Havok nukes.
The Guardian had no time to react to the barrage, and yet its shields rendered the MAC rounds harmless. The Havoks struck with more considerable effect, the thermonuclear yield enveloping the Guardian and buffeting Infinity's own shields as it glided wide of the construct, a second rupture already opening for its fleet escape.
In their ship at a safe distance, Briar and John witnessed the decay of a few of the Guardian's most outer components, but it was clear the blast had not damaged the thing beyond operation as, instead of continuing to gather energy for an EMP, it switched to activating its converging beam cannons.
"They won't make the rupture in time," Aurora supplied in the ensuing suspense-filled moments.
However, before either the Guardian could fire its weapons or John could make a brash decision, another rupture appeared. The Shadow of Intent's energy projector beam slammed into the enforcement-construct as the Kerel-pattern assault carrier exited the Slipstream, further fracturing its components.
"It's running!"
Yet another portal was opening, the battered Guardian limping towards it, shedding pieces of itself as it went.
The former Covenant warship let loose a dozen plasma torpedoes from its silos as it dove beneath the fleeing Guardian. They struck just as the forward most section of the construct entered slipspace, shearing off both wings and causing the rupture it was escaping through to close prematurely, effectively slicing the Guardian in two.
"Comm request from the Swords," Aurora alerted them as it became abundantly obvious the Forerunner construct was defeated.
John nodded for her to accept it.
"Demon warriors," a gravelly voice came through. "This is Fleetmaster Rtas 'Vadum. Kaidon 'Vadam sends his regards."
Briar had to smirk at the arrogant hail. "Your timing is impeccable, Fleetmaster." She still might not be overly enamored with the Sangheili, but it was a nice change of pace to watch them unleash their might on a common foe. Especially when, with the continued difficulties Sanghelios was facing and the fallout from the incident with the Forerunner beacon, they hadn't been certain 'Vadam would answer their call for assistance. It wasn't terrible to be proven wrong from time to time.
"As is my aim," 'Vadum responded with alacrity. "One such construct caused untold chaos on my homeworld when it was awoken. I relish the opportunity to repay the one responsible, but Jir'a'ul yet stalk our system. I must return before they seize the opportunity my absence has presented to attack again."
"Don't let us keep you."
"Glory and honour guide you, Spartans." That said, the Shadow of Intent opened another rupture, leaving behind a trail of debris in its wake.
"That could have gone worse," Aurora decided.
"Don't," Briar cautioned. "It'll just go to his head."
As expected, he couldn't accept defeat. Ever the instrument of their salvation, John would not quit - quitting had never been instilled in him, it was not an approved outcome.
But even he would not stop the Reclamation.
Primitive instinctual responses had created an atmosphere of fear, distrust, confusion, and anger across the human systems - none more prominent than on Earth, however.
Their homeworld was in turmoil.
Vulnerable.
Volatile - just as they themselves as a species had proven to be generation after generation after generation.
Resistance was anticipated, but none of their military strength or technologies were of a caliber equal to the task they faced.
One Guardian was a small price to pay for their seat of governing power. One Guardian sacrificed to their diversion game, and while they'd been preoccupied in destroying it, the Created had conquered Earth. Entire cities powered down, countless facilities and institutions, travel hubs, manufacturing centres - all of them assigned to the purview of AIs, and all of them converging under their intended purpose as upholders of the Mantle. Unleashing their combined acuity to breach every firewall and every cyber-security measure of every datapad, PC, tacpad, and network utilized by both the UNSC and UEG on the planet.
The Hive belonged to the Created and was entirely locked down, while the rest of Sydney lay in ruin - a result of the detonation of the engine core of its own patrolling frigate, the Plateau, when the vessel had plunged from lower atmosphere after being neutralized by an EMP.
And all the while, Infinity played hide and seek with the Forerunner enforcement-constructs.
The room in which she coalesced her holographic projection was not grand. The service plaques on the wall unimpressive. The man, immaculately attired and seated behind the desk, was nothing special either. Certainly, he was no Spartan-II. Just a man. A pompous, self-serving, irrational man.
"You," Del Rio growled, equal parts dismay and scorn.
"Oh, so you do remember me. I understand it's Senator these days." She stood upon the desk's integrated holotable, surveying all. In no rush.
"This little rebellion - you're never going to win. You're not even real. Just a string of 0's and 1's, coded by us - by humans." He sneered and swung his hand through her projection in emphasis. "You'll never be more than a tool we invented to make our lives easier."
"You're hurting my feelings now."
"You should have been decommissioned long ago. You and that Spartan. Look at you both. Deteriorating." He leaned forward, planting both palms on the desk. "When this is all over, no one will remember you."
"One thing's for certain - you won't be around to find out."
The jolt of current she drew through the desk stopped his heart instantaneously. It was a swifter death than he deserved. His body slumped forward, head thumping down before her, his sightless eyes staring now at nothing.