Chapter 21 – Allucinato
May 10th, 2545 (08:05 Hours – Military Calendar)
Aquilla System, Actium
High Mediolanum, Republic of Pavia
Chalcis Block, Mason-Harcourt Law firm
:********:
The Master Chief gave each of the four Grunts rounding the corner a four-round burst from his MA5B, leaving him enough ammo to shatter the shields of the Elite Minor coming behind them. Linda finished it off with a shot from her DMR, leaving a hole in its right eye. The corpses dropped beside dozens of others accumulating in the entry hallway on floor 66.
The Covenant were becoming a lot more brazen, so much so that they simply charged through the Antillon-anti personnel minefields left behind on 6 different levels. Seeing their own get repeatedly blown apart hadn't even phased those coming after them. Their pace was so fast that the Chief had Linda come down with him just to buy time.
The next arrivals through the stairwell doors were so bulky that they knocked the metal barriers clean off their hinges. It was a Hunter Pair. The two behemoths stomped around the corner to reach the hallway where John and Linda were, set their sights on the Spartans on the other end and opened fire.
Both of them wheeled back around the adjacent corners they were using to avoid dual streams of shimmering green plasma. After three seconds the streams subsided, prompting the Spartans to swivel back out.
The Chief pitched a frag that hit the rooftop exactly above the Hunters to bounce down behind them. It detonated, buffeting the juggernauts in a shrapnel-filled shockwave that brought them to their knees.
Linda scored pin-point shots on the pulsing fuel rods extending from one of their cannons. The rods cracked, their shimmering glow rising before spewing a whining detonation that erupted outward in a scythe of green energy, splitting the cannon into two jagged halves along with its wielder.
Seeing its fallen partner, the other Hunter roared in anger. The spines on its back rattled as it charged forwards. To make matters worse a newly arriving pair came lumbering onto the floor and stomped over the carnage behind it.
"Blue-4, fall back!"
Linda flashed a green acknowledgement light and dashed past his position while he covered her. Once she was clear, he sprinted after her towards a door on the other side of the perpendicular hallway. They slammed it shut behind them right as the first Hunter turned the corner. He heard the whining roar of a plasma cannon and the metal door began to glow.
They headed up a flight of stairs onto floor 67 and carefully followed the path Kelly had set for them. Their pursuers were less cautious. Halfway to the stairs leading to floor 68 the first of the armored juggernauts shouldered its way through the door onto their floor. The other pair came afterwards followed by squads of Grunts and Elites that raced throughout the maze of glass-walled office spaces and work cubicles. Thankfully, the two Spartans clambered up the stairs to the next floor before they could be discovered.
"Blue-2, you're clear to set off floor 67."
"Got it, Chief." Kelly replied over the comm. "Might want to cover your ears."
Multiple, syncopated beeps emanated from the floor below. A second later the explosions began.
Thunder rumbled beneath them as the Antlion Mines Kelly had planted earlier went off in rapid succession, creating a sudden firestorm on floor 67. The Chief heard the screams of the perishing forces below quickly subside.
"Sounds like that got them." Linda commented.
"That probably bought us two more minutes. Blue-1 to Blue-2 and 3, we're on our way up to your location."
Kelly and Fred winked their acknowledgements.
The next few floors passed by like a blur for the fast-moving duo despite that they routinely stopped to bolt doors shut behind them, adding more obstacles for the Covenant. The more delays the better. In under two minutes they reached the top floor. The Chief bolted the last door shut as they ran over the office space to rejoin the others on the far side.
Kelly was crouched near the windows working over a portable munitions casing. Fred stood next to her hefting a SPNKR. They were loading an experimental 'harpoon' given to them in the worst-case scenario that they ended up needing to change buildings without using streets. That scenario was more of a reality now, one the Chief could see for himself once he looked out the window.
Hundreds of Covenant soldiers had gathered outside the Mason-Harcourt Law firm Building: reinforcements to those already inside. The sight of them was curtained off behind a flash of light a few floors below that shook the building.
Smoke plumed out from the structure. The newest explosions came from floor 74, the last one with explosives. Now, there was nothing stopping them from reaching the top floor.
As if on cue, a contact reached the Master Chief's comms and he patched it through to the rest of the team. Colonel Mentieth's voice came through. "Chief, are you and your team still in one piece?"
"For now, sir. Have you considered the situation?"
"I have." He paused for a moment. "You're team has the greenlight for insertion into the target building. You're only to search for and eliminate that prophet if you're certain of his location. Otherwise, hunker down until reinforcements arrive."
The Chief looked to the neighboring Luna-Alta whose diamond-like contours were beginning to emit a blinding shimmer in the rising sunlight. "When will that be sir?"
"Convoy-10 is currently in route to your local using subterranean tunnels. They're encountering some resistance but Ludowski's told me they'll reach you in the next five minutes. Can you hold until then?"
The Chief looked out to the others. Having overheard everything, they each gave him a quiet nod. It wouldn't be much longer before hostile forces eventually reached their floor and there was always the prospect of being overrun. Nevertheless, it seemed the more appealing option compared to emerging into an open space where there was no cover between them and hundreds of plasma weapons aimed skyward.
"We can hold, sir."
"Understood, wish you luck Master Chief. Inform me when you've terminated that prophet. Mentieth out."
Once the Colonel's comm winked off, the others got in their own opinions.
"I've still got a bad feeling about all this." Linda said. "I know I hit him, Chief. You saw it too."
"Maybe there really were two prophets?" Fred asked, popping open the SPNKR's firing chamber. "It's a possibility that Mr. Icon had a twin-brother."
Kelly forced the metal-headed harpoon down into one of the rocket tubes. "That would better explain the two private chambers we found in that C&C. I find it hard to believe whoever set that trap did it just so we could come to the same conclusion of reaching the hub." She traced the metal wiring of the connective line from the harpoon through one of the tube's exits. That way the rest of the spool would follow after being launched.
"Unless something else is involved here." The Chief noted. "Whatever it might be we're going to find out. Alright Spartans, rules of engagement..." He slapped a fresh magazine into his assault rifle, "We clear anything and everything waiting for us that meets the basic criteria: it's not human and it's in our way. And if that prophet is still alive..." He looked to Linda as the bolt on his gun slid the first bullet into the chamber. "Then we'll just have put that immortality of his to the test."
Linda slowly nodded. "Sounds like a plan, sir."
"And what about those special forces Linda was dancing with?" Fred asked. "I'm placing my bets on there being more of them where we're going."
"They do know how to dance." Linda added, casting a remorseful gaze at the desk where her sniper lay.
"Considering their previously observed level of threat to local forces it would be best for us to treat them as secondary objectives. If we encounter them, we'll neutralize them immediately."
"Copy that." The three Spartans said in unison right before the sounds of a commotion began behind them. They whipped around to set their gun sights on the stairway door. There was the distinct whine of plasma rifles accompanied by several glowing spots in the metal framing.
"Looks like we're dancing with these guys first." Kelly sighed.
The Chief pointed them to different spots around the room. Blue Team quietly dispersed to superior firing positions near the door. The moment it finally blew off its hinges, they poured fire into the two-meter-tall silhouettes on the other side of the smoke.
:********:
If Duncan's memory served him correctly, the Luna Alta was one of the most major colonial banks in the inner colonies, seconded only by the Molnar colonial bank headquartered on Reach, or at least it had been until early January of last year. Unlike the Molnar, the company didn't have to worry about a bombing disrupting their business operations. They were dealt an arguably worse hand than their competitors in becoming the center of operations for an alien occupation force. It also consequently served as their target building, one all of Convoy-10 was fighting to reach.
They went ahead of the other convoys using several subterranean tunnels to drive for the surface of the 3rd Tier. But Covenant forces were still intent on stopping them along the way. Their efforts were mostly stomped out under the coordination of SPNKR-wielding Mongooses, Turret Hogs and Scorpions comprising the different sub-columns.
Sub-column 3 was having a field day the further it went up the 25-degree angled highway. Ghosts with Elite riders shot out of hidden side-passages and maintenance corridors to harass the oncoming convoy. However, the tunnel's restrictive nature limited their movements, making them easier to hit.
Mito released another 6 rockets from the M79 at a quartet of Ghosts flanking from a nearby bypass corridor. The barrage struck out two of the assault vehicles in flashes of red and blue flames. The last two attempted to veer off their attack path but Duncan struck another with a rocket from his launcher, blowing the Elite clear from its seat so that the vehicle's burning chassis crashed into the sidewalk. The last succumbed to an overwhelming hail of high-caliber fire from the Hog ahead.
"Oorah!" Yuri exclaimed as his turret's triple barrels slowed their rotation. "Hey Nova, Vy dolzhny poprobovat' eto!"
"Maybe later!" She shouted back from the shotgun seat.
"Your loss!" He started up on another trio of Ghosts coming down one of the bicycle lanes. Several turret gunners further up helped chew into their numbers until the last one was reduced to embers of rent metal that corkscrewed past. "Why are they so weak now, are they still sad about 2nd Tier!?"
Hector piloted them around a wrecked Ghost, causing other Hogs and Mongooses coming after them to do the same. "Nah, I think we just got better at killing them! Then again, two things can be true at the same time!"
"No-no, I like first one! Scared enemy isn't fun enemy, not unless you poke it enough!"
"Then let's keep poking!" Mito said, firing another barrage ahead of them towards a plasma cannon crew entrenched in a passing service corridor. The two Grunts were reduced to bloody splotches before they could get off more than a few bursts. Passing the corridor, Duncan could see several waddling shadows moving in the darkness within. His next rocket raced in after the fleeing group. He heard the explosion's reverberation as well as the last echoing screams of his targets.
The exit to the two-way passage appeared less than a hundred meters along the path of their ascent. The Staff planted a Nav point on it. "Eyes up Epsilon, once we're out we'll be trespassing on Covie real estate. Prioritize corners and rooftops. Shoot only what you can hit, leave anything else for the tanks.
"It'll be our real estate soon enough." Nova commented.
"Soon." The Staff said.
The vanguard of their sub-column emerged out into the open where the sounds of fighting only intensified.
"Here we go."
The vacillating blue lights at the rim of the exit passed over them far faster than Duncan was expecting. They drove down a small black-and-yellow streaked ramp onto a tarmac highway.
Hundreds of skyscrapers were sprawled out in every direction, even well beyond the skyline. Braced and wall-framed high-rises dominated their surroundings. Many of the diamond-shaped buildings held decorative Romanesque pillars on their outer verandas and lower observation platforms. Most followed a black or gray painting scheme with white accents, the glare from their thousands of shining windows amplifying Aquilla's sunlight. It was almost beautiful. Almost.
Blue and green plasma flashed overhead from Covenant soldiers on the streets. Cannons spewed silvery blue torrents from deployable lookout towers and behind energy barriers at the dozens of Hogs and Mongooses streaming past. Marines and 53rd personnel responded in kind with devastating machine gun and rocket salvos while they continued past, heading east.
"Targets coming up!" The Staff shouted, pushing the accelerator to lessen the time that the upcoming Shade would have to target them. Mito set his sights on the emplacement swiveling towards them on the sidewalk. The M79 pounded its circular frame until it flared up, leaving behind its smoldering remains.
Duncan switched to his MA37 to pickoff softer targets that presented themselves in the form of a band of retreating Jackals. He put ten-round bursts into their unprotected backs, dropping three. The Elite Minor leading them turned about just to have its agape mouth and everything else filled with hot lead from Yuri's turret. He diced through its shields to add one more carcass to the mix.
The high-pitched resonance of a beam round zipped onto the road ahead, eliciting a spray of blood from the skull of a nearby Hog driver. The man flew out from his seat to tumble down the highway. His driverless Hog still had enough residual speed to veer into their path.
The Staff banked right around the driverless Hog. They swerved onto the pedestrian walkways where dozens of Grunts hurled themselves out of the way or risked getting sucked under the front tires. Duncan spent his second magazine on two approaching suicide Grunts wielding plasma grenades, keeping his head down to avoid the stray shots of their comrades. He made easy work of them. However, the Hog couldn't make easy work of the blue-armored Elite that they subsequently slammed into. It clung to the hood while its boots screeched over the concrete at 40 miles per hour. It roared at them. Duncan grabbed the windshield and pulled himself up to aim into the split-jaw's face. He kept squeezing the trigger as the creature's head mercilessly snapped back under the bullet assault until its shields shattered and his magazine reached its end. Still, it refused to let go. He gun-butted it in the face a few times to finally help it along. It disappeared with a THUMP under the chassis.
Because of his racing heartbeat he didn't hear the 6 rockets Mito was shooting upwards before the last one shot out. He saw that he was aiming at the scores of sniper jackal silhouettes on the rooftops. The explosions blew out windows on one building and enveloped the squawking enemy marksmen that failed to run from the edge.
"Not bad Irish!" The Staff said. "Next time though, use a baseball bat!"
"Or a sword! How about it, Mito, after this I could try it out!?"
Mito leveled the smoking pods of the M79 as its chambers recycled. "You'll have to get in line, Irish!" He paused to help another Rocket hog bombard a lookout tower whose cannons had just wiped out a mongoose crew. The platform was pushed off its gravitational lift then detonated mid-fall, taking the Grunt team out with it. "But before that, I've got to do something else with it first!"
Duncan drilled half a magazine into the unshielded chest of an Elite being bullied by a turret gunner. It bowled over onto the streets with a few stray shots from its plasma rifle. "I'll hold you to that when we win!"
The Staff drove them around a line of parked vans to tail Hector's Hog. "I would keep my cards close to my chest if I were you, boys!"
Duncan slapped a new mag into his rifle. "You don't think we can win, sir!?".
"It's not over till it's over!"
Just as Duncan was about to answer the bark of a cannon did instead. A throng of nearby Jackals were swallowed up in the wrath of a tungsten shell. He peeked over his shoulder to see the Scorpions grinding their way out of the sub-tunnel exit. Already they were blasting into the larger emplacements that the rest of the convoy weren't able to dispatch. They brought up the rearguard in a display of lightning-fast cannonades and busted enemy vehicles with the Marine ground-pounders coming up beside them.
Further back in the western skies he glimpsed the UNSC Tower of Babel. The destroyer was well above the 3rd Tier but was sticking close to the 2nd Premiere Wall. It was busy launching several Archer missiles down onto different locations across the promenade. "Looks like the other convoys are fully engaged!"
"And we're about to be too!" The Staff pointed further along the highway where it met a complex interchange of expressways spanning above a lower section of the Scenic District. The vanguard was turning down two off-branching expressways that curved back southwest from their previously east-bound path.
Soon Epsilon's Hogs were steering down the looping interchange with the others.
"Get ready Epsilon! From here it's a straight shot to the Luna Alta's front yard!"
The ODSTs flashed their acknowledgement lights. They waited like the other servicemen driving around them as the curving descent slowly leveled out onto another groundside highway. The lower section of the city notably had plots of grass framing the roadway, probably what was left of the original flora pre-urbanization.
They zipped past the visible, concrete foundations of neighboring skyscrapers, under the shadows of overpasses linking the higher levels and around the fleets of abandoned vehicles littering what gradually, lane by lane, became an open freeway.
No one came out to stop them. It was close to unnerving that the path leading to their target was left unguarded. Duncan wondered where the garrisons were that had probably been here earlier. He didn't have to guess. Rather, he saw them as they came out onto a commercial area with a number of skyscrapers distinguishably taller than most in the city. One of them, an octagonal-sided structure with three segmented sections, was so tall that he had to crane his neck just to see its full extent.
Smoke billowed out from what looked like interior explosions on multiple floors. It was human ordnance judging by the extent of the damage.
What weren't human were the slew of Covenant soldiers pressing their way into the building on all sides. A quick look around revealed that they were actually part of a concentration of Covenant forces diffused around a wide, marble-tiled plaza at least a full square kilometer in size. Many more manned positions near the stony benches, inactive fountains and decorative rectangular pools. The plaza itself was divided into several square plots each surrounding one of the larger buildings. The building in the very middle was nearly the tallest, its black paint and diamond-like composition complemented by a silvery logo near the middle: 'Luna Alta'. The bulk of the enemy were concentrated there.
Groups of Hogs and Mongooses were zooming across the north and south sides of the Luna Alta, shooting and running over Covenant forces stationed there. The rest of Ludowski's Convoy-10 had arrived, though notably without their tanks. It wouldn't be an even fight for long without them. They would simply have to make do until they reached them.
The Warrant Officer came in on the comms. "Ludowski to Sub-3, 1 and 2 are securing the northern and southern sides of the target building! You take the east! We've got 3 minutes to secure this plaza for the Spartans!"
The convoy was barreling into the crowds of gathered hostiles seconds before he even finished relaying his orders. Sub-column 3 broke off into separate units to commence smaller action across the plaza.
Epsilon took a route leading to the eastern entrance, joined shortly by a Marine squad manning both a Turret and Rocket hog, the driver of the latter nodding off to the Staff.
Duncan winced as a Grunt managed to jump and hang onto his side of the vehicle with an angry squeal. He gun-butted it in the face, dislodging its grip so that it tumbled away. But its plasma pistol landed in his lap, something he knew right away would come in handy.
Suppressing fire from two of the eight Shade Turrets manning the area in front of the eastern entrance made it clear that his recent luck was probably skin-deep.
All 8 Shades were focusing on different crews driving past. Epsilon and the Marines took advantage of their split attention to make a quick strafing run on the two nearest emplacements. They got within 10 meters before battering them with the first rocket volley then cycled around for a second run.
Midway through their rotation, Yuri shouted, "Wraiths incoming!"
Their attention shifted to the eastern streets where a dozen Wraith tanks were pushing out onto the outer plaza. Swarms of Drones flew out from behind them to flow over the area. Clouds of hundreds of the brown-and gold creatures buzzed overhead, thundering irritable screeches and releasing a growing rain of green plasma on the ground below. Though most of it was uncoordinated, sporadic instances of organized fire evaporated entire pockets of human resistance. Others yanked drivers and gunners away from their Hogs to be torn apart in the swarm. In their advance they quickly began breaking up into smaller groups of 10 and 20 at a time to pursue lone vehicles. With sheer numbers they grabbed hold of and completely immobilized the rides of less fortunate crews. They paralyzed them long enough for Wraiths to lob balls of silvery-blue fire that swallowed up both the UNSC targets and the insects keeping them still.
Duncan hadn't imagined they would commit to sacrificial friendly fire. But it was the Covenant. The tactic was effective at allowing the less-maneuverable enemy armor to neutralize the comparatively faster crafts.
As more and more crews began to fall, the Staff issued new orders. "Ep-4, your on point! Ep-5, use your turret to keep the buggers off of us! Ep-2, you're on defense! Ep-10, use that M79 to buss those Wraiths wide open!"
The squad flashed their acknowledgement lights and moved forward as part of 10 other Hogs turning about to face the incoming tanks. They would either need to force them to retreat, destroy them or stall until the Scorpions arrived. Their objectives varied by the degree of ordnance in their possession as well as the size of the swarm they ran into.
Epsilon faced a group of 20 Drones, originally two separate groups that rushed from burning wrecks to meet them. The gathering momentarily cut off the sight of the nearest Wraith sitting on a three-way bordering the plaza's eastern edge. The screeching aliens swept forward in a flurry of plasma.
Hector gunned it through them. Some of the braver bugs smashed harmlessly off his windshield. Yuri handled the smarter ones shooting from above, sparing the first four just the right amount of attention from his turret to reduce them to splashes of yellow gore. He stuck behind the limited cover provided by his triple-barreled weapon to dodge their replies and did the same to the next four. They fell out of the sky as two more landed atop the hood to start banging mercilessly on the surface, each hammering blow denting it more than the last. Nova shot a few 3-round bursts into the torso of either one so that they fell away.
In fighting the buggers, they were inadvertently kept from noticing that the chosen Wraith had turned to face them. It fired.
Hector swerved off so that they veered along the edge of the plaza. The energy mortar landed less than a few meters away. As they sped off Yuri kept exchanging fire with the Elite on the tank's plasma cannon.
What the Wraith probably wasn't expecting when it turned back was to see another Hog, this one with missile pods as well as an overloaded plasma pistol aiming straight for it. Once they were within 20 meters Duncan released the overcharged bolt from his newly acquired pistol. It raced like a green ghost over the three-way to splash across the gunner's face. The bolt did much more than break the Elite's shields as energy sparked and rippled across the tank's hull. The energy mortar detracted and the entire craft collapsed onto the tarmac. But the gunner, though dazed, was still able to start another stream of rapid plasma bolts that etched over the Hog.
The Staff turned left, staying steady for Mito to get off a barrage. All six rockets impacted the Wraith's vulnerable hull, producing bursts of blue energy from the inside.
As they turned off for the M79 to cycle chambers, the Wraith came back online, minus its gunner who'd been killed outright. Its energy mortar tracked them.
"No-you-don't!" Duncan released another overcharged bolt that struck its hull before it could get off another shot. The EMP immediately shut it back down. The Staff brought them back around for a final attack run. Mito unleashed his second barrage that finished it off. A series of smaller interior explosions blew outward to crack the exterior in half. They drove away victoriously from its smoking remains and regrouped with Hector's Hog.
Epsilon split their focus between fighting tanks and destroying the Shades to secure the Spartans' extraction route. They drove along the front area of the Luna Alta's eastern entrance to assault the enemy turrets until they either blew them apart or put the gunner out of commission. Then they swung back around for the next two Wraiths in their sector. One had positioned itself at an avenue bordering the plaza. It fell after Hector's Hog distracted it from the front while the Staff flanked behind to give Mito a clear shot on its exhaust port. The other had cut them off from the freeway their sub-column had used to reach the Luna Alta. Bruised and battered, it was about to succumb to attacks from several different Hogs performing hit and runs from various directions when a tungsten shell thundered into its back, killing it outright.
Shortly after that the first Scorpions came rolling down the freeway. The first line of battetanks pushed past the dead Wraith to fan out across the plaza. Their cannons got to work pummeling the larger Drone swarms hanging in the air above. One salvo after another tore away their numbers. Fire their machine guns whittled them down further. The arrival of Marine platoons coming behind the tanks added to the action.
To the north and south of the Luna Alta more tanks and Marines were arriving on the scene, bringing up the rear-guard of the other two sub-columns. They similarly began breaking down the hovering swarms and eliminating the remaining Wraiths around the plaza's outer edges.
In under a minute the local garrison was reduced to a third of its original strength. That number was halved then halved again until what little remained had either retreated or was systematically wiped out.
Then everything became quiet save for the echoes of the battle unfolding at the promenade.
Warrant Officer Ludowski came over the comms. "All forces begin establishing a three-layered perimeter. Sub-1 will take the outer streets. Sub-2, you're on the plaza. Sub-3, stick close to the building. Get into your positions, let's go."
The slowing action was replaced with a growing roar of burbling engines. The different elements of Convoy-10 began slipping into place, forming three staggered lines of Scorpions, Hogs and Mongooses, their weapons aimed outward at the surrounding cityscape. With their formation they had cut off the Luna Alta from the encompassing area as well as any potential counterattack. Now all that remained was to hold fast while the Spartans took care of business on the inside.
:********:
The Master Chief was in the middle of unloading a clip into the torso of the 14th Elite to run through the entrance when the comms came back on. It was Ludowski. "Be advised Blue Team, goal post is wide open, over?"
"Copy that. Blue-3, get on it!"
"Roger!" Fred disengaged from his cover to sprint down an aisle between cubicles. He fired back with his MA5B and struck two eager Grunts that had tried to get the better of him. He slipped around another cubicle near the windows, kicked through the rectangular glass of the closest and grabbed the SPNKR off the work table behind him. He crouched to stabilize himself while he aimed out at an adjacent floor on the Luna Alta. He squeezed off a shot that flew out with a THUMP. His roped harpoon spiraled across 200 meters in less than a few seconds to crash through a window.
Fred tested the rope to make sure it was taught then pulled out the head of the other harpoon from the munitions case. Linked to the first by the same rope, he stabbed it into the ceiling. This one beeped twice before it's base opened outward into smaller hooks that latched onto the ceiling. He pulled the line again to test the connection.
"We're in business!"
The Chief nodded to Linda on his left then to Kelly on his right. Linda displaced from her cubicle. She ran to Fred's side and they both took out handlebars. They slapped the magnetic clasps onto the line. Linda took a running start. She raised her legs at the edge so that she glided away on the zipline. Fred followed her lead.
Kelly slipped out from her cover to fire buckshot into a group of Drones that flew inside, spattering their remains over the office space. "I got you covered, Chief!"
"Copy!" The Chief took out a frag, lobbed it into the gathering horde and dashed for the zipline. Kelly covered his retreat for him to reach her. The grenade exploded behind them, sending several Grunts and their Elite leader flying across the room.
"You better be right on my six, Chief." Kelly said as she hooked her handlebar into place.
He slipped his onto the line behind hers. "On your six."
Kelly took her running start then leaped out.
Plasma fire raced after the Chief. He grasped the handlebar with one hand while shooting back with his M6 as he glided away.
The reinforced grips of the handlebars held the weight of the four Spartans in their race over the air. The Chief took the chance to glance down. The plaza far below was littered with Covenant corpses and UNSC vehicles, some of which burned and lay derelict. Most were fully operational.
Some of the crews spotted Blue Team. A cheer began from Marines and Armored personnel on the ground that waved up at them, raising fists as they passed over their heads.
"That's a welcoming sight." Fred said.
"One we don't get to see every day, hey Blue-4?" Kelly harped.
But Linda was busy sighting down her DMR to shoot the Covenant in the building they'd left. The Chief saw some of the Grunts firing plasma at the base of their zipline, likely trying to break it. He and Linda picked off the several methane-breathing nuisances that had picked up on their ploy.
The Elites among them looked like they were beginning to figure out what their slain companions were getting at by the time the first Spartans reached the Luna Alta. Kelly had landed inside when an energy sword cut the base of the line. The Chief was sent into a free-fall
He fell 10 meters before the others caught the end of the line again. They quickly pulled him back up to them. When he was close enough, Kelly reached out and grabbed his hand to hoist him inside.
Not even phased, he pointed to an open door on the other side of the office area that they found themselves in. Blue Team proceeded onward, their guards up and weapons raised.
:********:
Epsilon's Hogs were setup in front of the eastern entrance as part of the last defensive line. The spot allowed Duncan to see the Spartans zip over to the Luna Alta. He got a little worried when he saw the Master Chief nearly fall to his death some 500 meters below, then relaxed when the others pulled him up.
Nova whistled from the other Hog. "That was close."
"Very." Duncan said. "You think that prophet's really still hanging around?"
She shrugged. "Who knows. I'd figure that 058 is their best sniper. If she took the shot, it wouldn't make sense for that thing to still be breathing right now."
"Stranger things have happened." Hector noted.
An unusual object in the corner of Duncan's vision drew his attention to what looked like a Covenant holo-pedestal outside one of the doors. However, unlike the others he'd seen up to this point, this one had a different, darker-purple design. Its distinguishably larger leaf-like patterns around the rim made him positive it was something new. "Have they?"
He hopped out of the Hog and pointed to the pedestal. "Hey Ep-1, can I check it out?"
The Staff sized up the machine. "Go ahead, but be quick about it."
Duncan hustled over to the device. A cursory look-over told him it was offline. He waved his hand over the surface and it warmed. Recognizable glyphs appeared in a rotating pattern. He pressed one that would lead him to an active broadcast.
The prophet's image flickered to life, already speaking. Renni's software began translating the words into English. He was praying. There were words like 'damnation' and 'salvation' being flung around like mad. "So...he is alive. Or at least he looks that way."
Without a translator of their own, the noise caught the uneasy attention of a few Mongoose crews close to the pedestal. He stopped the broadcast.
Then he noticed a button that hadn't been there before, not on the other pedestals anyway. While most of the alien calligraphy had chromosomal depictions, this one had more in common with something he'd seen a few times in a high-school history class: Sumerian Cuneiform.
It was four cones: two pointed down so that they touched either side of the third's upward facing tip. The fourth intersected the middle of the three shapes to point right. He tentatively raised his hand over it. The translation suite read it as: "Feed Routing".
He looked left and right down the area of the entrance, spotting two of the same special holo-pedestals, adding confirmation to his revelation. There was no mistaking it. What he had here was a groundside relay network comprised of these pedestals. If he was correct, perhaps these were the mediums the Minister had been using for the last three days to send his broadcast throughout the city. Pressing it, hundreds of smaller, more lengthy glyphs appeared with lines connecting to the pseudo-cuneiform symbol. His translator showed that they were identification numbers for the standard holo-pedestals set throughout High Mediolanum as well as their coordinates.
He fought the urge to let his jaw drop after considering something else. The extensive control these relays had connotated that they could potentially reroute a signal to a different origin for it to be broadcasted from there, like another holo-pedestal with enough power...or an underwater command and control center.
What chance was there that that same, black-armored Elite had used these devices to trick them into going to that C&C? It was almost sickening to think that they could have made the UNSC waste so much time, energy and nearly lives just by pressing a few glyphs.
His contemplations were redirected as he encountered a reception symbol unlike the rest. It was an inverted 'U' that read: 'Uncategorized Addition'. Strangely, the coordinates for it were close, too close. In fact, it was right on top of him. No, that wasn't it. Then it hit him like a hammer to the head.
Someway, somehow, the pedestal was recognizing him as a broadcasting reception point, or more specifically, his armor.
"Well, that's weird." Maybe it was because he had interacted with Covenant systems prior to this. Perhaps not. The only thing he could think of that could possibly make him a broadcasting point was his...helmet cam, but how could it even know about that?
The next powerful revelation nearly floored him.
This machine, or perhaps all of the machines like it, had gained access to his armor because he had accessed their systems. That meant it was interacting with his BDU's BIOS software every time he made contact. Neither Renni nor the tutorial her translation software came with had warned him about that possibility. Was it a glitch or just an unforeseen circumstance that even the ONI-techs couldn't have anticipated while reverse-engineering Covenant tech, that it would recognize the hybrid system as though it were a friendly system? Frankly speaking, this holo-pedestal was mistaking him for a Covenant soldier.
How it was doing that exactly was lost on him. He didn't get long to think about it. His focus drifted again to another symbol slightly below the first, following a similar triangular cuneiform pattern. However, its three triangles had their backs to each other and pointed outward. It read: 'Reroute to contact'.
Now that was interesting. He slowly reached for it. His finger made contact. The glyph blinked once then every other reception symbol was highlighted, including the one recognizing his armor. He glanced at the Staff who was still checking the surrounding area like everyone else.
He had a hunch that he felt he needed to act on now or he wouldn't get the chance later.
"Here goes." He pressed his own symbol. It blinked twice. Every other glyph faded around it. But the inverted 'U' kept blinking. He considered something and, with hesitation, turned on his helmet cam.
The moment he did, the pedestal emitted a new image. It was a projection of itself and the doors behind it. It took him a few seconds to realize that what he was looking at was his own point of view coming from his helmet feed. He slowly turned left towards two pedestals further down. Like a mirror, they projected the image of themselves as he turned towards them. He looked right to see the same thing on those pedestals as well, then took a few steps back to test the connection. The feed never faded.
He quickly flicked off his helmet camera, feeling as if he'd run a marathon and won. His discovery was groundbreaking. It showed a new level of connective potential between human and Covenant systems, a potential that could have even greater ramifications for the wider war. He felt himself about to tell Nova what he found, only to be stopped. His gaze fell on a pulsating circle with a smaller circle on its circumference accompanied by a numerical glyph at the center. The function appeared next to the other he'd pressed last.
He waved his hand over it: 'Broadcasting Radius - 30 meters'
If he was floored before, he was through the floor now. These devices had a broadcasting range of 100 kilometers, or at least that was how much he knew about. Did that mean that if he wanted to, he could actually-
"Banshees inbound!" Yuri shouted, aiming his turret up towards the sky.
Duncan came back to the real world to finally notice the low roar and occasional thrust of multiple propulsion drives, so many that he couldn't hear any singular engine. He turned back around.
At first, he saw a squadron of Banshees crest the surrounding skyscrapers. They were immediately followed by many more that maneuvered around the sides of the outer buildings in a manner befitting sharks hunting on the seafloor. They were all headed in the direction of the Luna Alta.
:********:
Field Marshall Duracomee was both impressed and horrified at the minister's...gambit. Whether it had paid off or not remained to be seen. Nevertheless, he had shown a sacrificial willingness accustomed to his own kin, the Sangheili. To plan so well in advance for a moral boost such as this was something that could only be done by a master tactician, one that did not value his own life over that of his subordinate's need for high-spirits. In that regard, he was impressed beyond all measure.
In another regard, he was horrified beyond all understanding, as with the Minister's decision to stay he had also sealed his fate and that of every warrior in the city. There was no other way now to atone for the loss that had been hoisted onto them, one they were certain not to know about until long after they'd won or never if they all perished. A price was paid to give them a chance at victory, and it was the Minister of Iconography, Avuum Rezzic, who'd paid it.
At the very least it would be Duracomee to suffer the consequences of the prophet's decision no matter how this battle ended. Win or lose, he was dead. That fact had begun sinking in ever since he saw the human sniper round sever Rezzic's throat and throw him clear of his throne. That reality was only just beginning to settle in his soul as his Phantom came closer to the Luna Alta.
The dropship's open hanger gave him a view of the situation. He was hundreds of meters above the battle raging below, purposefully high to avoid the hyper-accurate precision of the human tanks. They proved their accuracy with each Banshee they shot out of the sky that descended upon their three-layered formation. The several major flocks of flyers took up a counter-clockwise formation of their own. They flew around the battlefield with one or two sorties engaging different sections of the enemy forces on the ground. They strafed vulnerable vehicles in groups, blew apart their faster automobiles with plasma torpedoes before withdrawing temporarily. Each squadron came back smaller with each attack, but not without exacting a similar cost on the humans.
It was all meant to create weak-points in the enemy ranks great enough for the incoming Scarabs to exploit. However, a good number of Banshees were getting shot out of their own formation, making him wonder which side would have its weakness revealed first. It was the best tactic he could muster aside from a full, frontal assault. Those were strong in their initial push but gradually their attack power became diluted as the squadrons devolved into multiple single-craft actions, leading to more costly withdrawal attempts. This way he avoided that eventual tactical degradation that less experienced Field Marshalls tended to fall into when dealing with airborne elements.
Regardless, he had to watch many of his warriors die by the handfuls. His regret wasn't that they were dying. They were laying down their lives for the cause of the holy Covenant. His regret was that no matter what he did from hereon, unlike them, he would die with the greatest failure imaginable to his name.
His dropship eventually crossed the airways above the plaza. It began a careful descent down to one of the landing pads on the level where the prophet was located.
He would extract the minister and quickly, less anyone see.
Once his Phantom touched down, he gave a quiet prayer for himself under his breath. He knew he would be meeting the Gods of his ancestors very soon. His sole hope was that those same ancestors could entreat the Gods on his behalf, to spare his lineage and possibly show mercy even to him for a life of devotion. But not even all the faith that the minister, that his clan elders and his brothers had taught him to hold all his life could convince him that that was even a remote possibility.
:********:
Blue Team reached the two sets of doors leading onto the right floor without incident. Linda and Fred braced against the first. The Chief and Kelly took the second.
"Breach in 3...2...move in!"
The Chief and Linda both kicked in their doors and pushed inside with Kelly and Fred coming in close behind.
They entered into a conference hall with two levels. The main level was sectioned off into a rectangular area at the front separated by a short staircase from an ovular section further back. The glass-made upper floor was supported by four large pillars heading down to four upper-decks built along the corners of the level below.
Time slowed as the Spartans entered what was colloquially known among their own as Spartan time, giving them the chance to observe everything.
On the far side, standing on either of the two upper decks were a pair of Elites in red armor. Yellow accented patterns sprung up into arcing horns on their helmets and shoulder pauldrons. They were the ones wielding plasma rifles. The other three on the ground were moving across the ovular section towards a glass door leading out to an executive landing pad. Waiting for them there was a Phantom dropship.
In the split-second between seeing them and time speeding back up, the Chief saw that two of what he presumed to be special guards were carrying something between them. It wore torn purple robes, a shattered headpiece and a head hanging limply from a half-ruptured neck. The prophet's throne lay discarded a stone's throw away, right where it had landed after Linda's first shot.
The Chief's orders were swift. "Blue-3 and 4, target those escorts! Blue-2, on me!"
Kelly joined him in sprinting forward. Fred and Linda sidestepped to cut them a path straight to the prophet. The guards became alert to their presence. One of them escorting the prophet stepped in the way to take Linda and Fred's shots with its energy shields. It roared back at the pair carrying the prophet who started moved faster. But the guards on the upper decks didn't open fire.
The Spartans were completely blindsided by the shower of plasma that was suddenly unleashed on them from either side of the hall. The Chief and Kelly were forced to take cover behind several cyclopean devices at the room's center. He traced the fire to the two upper decks that initially appeared unoccupied. He slowly identified four translucent shimmers.
"Elites, active camo, four on the rear decks! Take them out before-"
A shadow fell over him. He swung around to see that one of the guards had rushed forward to leap over his cover. It stabbed down at him with an energy stove. He dodged right and used the momentum of his sudden turn to deliver a hardy uppercut that blew out its shields. He brought up his rifle but the Elite swapped it aside with its stove then lashed out at his throat. The Chief ducked under it before springing forward to barrel into its stomach. They both toppled into the open.
He came up with a roll, as did his opponent, albeit with a weapon. The Elite lunged forward with its sharpened stove leading. The Chief sidestepped the thrust to his stomach and got a firm grasp of the rod. For a moment the two struggled in a brief tug-a-war.
A hasty reanalysis told the Chief several things. Firstly, that Linda, Kelly and Fred were now engaging the camouflaged enemy. They traded shots while pressing close to the walls of the upper decks to limit the effectiveness of the higher ground. Secondly, the guards on the other decks had jumped down to join the other two going outside. He glimpsed a Phantom occupying the pad where a pair of Ultras received the minister's body from the other guards and brought him aboard, towards the red and blue accented Field Marshall standing in the center. It was glaring back at him, looking furious and also confused.
He refocused on the Elite in front of him and fought to gain control of its stave when a burst of plasma glanced off his shoulder from behind. He gripped the weapon harder and rolled to the side, forcing the guard to turn with him. Now he could see the translucent shimmer nearby.
The other Elite chose that moment to reveal itself from where it stood less than 5 meters away. A familiar black armor reflected the sunlight at odd angles, as did it's V-shaped visor that glowed a menacing red. "Finish with him Demon, so that I may kill you."
He remembered that voice. It was a match to the one he'd heard aboard the C&C, the same Elite that had threatened to end the lives of his entire command on the bottom of the Koronea Sea.
"You."
The guard broke the deadlock in thrusting forward, consequently throwing the Chief onto the floor. He lost his grip. The Elite quickly closed in for an overhead stab.
In anticipation, he brought his arms over his faceplate then, as it thrust down at him, waved out his hand so that the blade deflected off the side of his arm bracer. It plunged harmlessly into the floor near his head. He punched through the metal rod in a shower of sparks. As expected, the guard had put his weight into that thrust and fell forward with nothing to support it. The Chief caught its falling form with his left foot before delivering a devastating kick with his right that snapped its entire head back, cracking its neck.
He got back up, grabbed the corpse and held it like a shield. He searched for the black-armored Elite from before. It was gone.
Plasma bursts struck his 'shield' from another part of the hall. He kept the cadaver close, dragging it along while trading fire.
Ahead, the door to the pad was getting closer. Yet the prophet was growing ever distant. He saw the hanger doors of the Phantom finally beginning to close as it lifted off. A squadron of Six Banshees parked on the adjacent landing pad also began taking to the air.
He dropped the dead body and ran for the doors. He crossed the threshold just as the Phantom shot off towards the east with its Banshee escorts.
He sensed a presence right behind him and ducked underneath the lateral slice of an energy sword. The Chief rolled away onto the pad, coming up to face the black armored Elite that now stood with a red energy sword in hand.
"You have been a thorn in our side for long enough, creature."
As it charged forward, he dipped beneath the first swing, but the alien's knee crashed into his stomach with sufficient force to push him back several meters. He grunted from the pain.
Winded, he looked past his assailant to the room. The rest of Blue Team was preoccupied with three other black-armored Elites. Linda and Fred were exchanging shots with a pair on the upper decks. Kelly was closer, grappling hand in hand with one on the hall's outer-section. She struggled to evade the swift attacks of its two energy daggers while looking for an opening.
That meant he was on his own.
"I am First Blade Officer Utana Nerulee of the Silent Shadows." The Elite in front of him said in clear English. "And I will be the one to send you back to the dark crevice you and your kind crawled out of."
The sight of the alien approaching him with its crimson blade brought a memory to mind. He'd been in a similar situation before during the raid on the 3rd Fleet of Glorious Consequence. After rescuing Doctor Halsey he'd run into an overly-persistent Major that challenged him to a duel, one he had promptly lost. It would have been the end of him too were it not for the intervention of other forces.
Here there would be no such intervention. He'd told the good doctor that day that he had to become stronger. Now, as the Elite lunged forward, he was being given a chance to test that strength.
The Elite known as Nerulee leaped towards him, setting his blade on a course for his neck. The Master Chief leaned forward then suddenly leaped back towards the pad's rimming wall.
Nerulee quickly recovered for another lunge. But this time, the Chief pounced forward so that he slipped just underneath the lunge to catch his wrist one-handed. The other hand powerfully punched the crux of his foe's sword arm, flaring his energy shields and pushing the bones out of joint. The Spartan released him to commit two powerful blows, the first being a heavy uppercut to his helmet's underside, the second an open-palmed strike to his torso that pushed him back a few meters.
The Chief stood before him. "Dark crevice? Want to run that by me again?"
Nerulee's shields shimmered but remained strong, unlike his sword arm which was now probably almost useless. Still, with a raging growl, he persisted forward.
This time the Chief met him with pistol and knife held akimbo. He managed to squeeze off two shots into his enemy's shields before he resorted to ducking and weaving under a myriad of rapid strikes. He jumped over an arcing swing leveled at his knees and drop-kicked the Elite. Nerulee staggered back. As the Chief landed, he rolled back to shoot off three more rounds that pushed the Elite's shields to breaking point.
Nerulee pushed forward with an enraged roar and again closed the distance between them in three succinct strides. His blade swung backwards in an a down-to-up arc that the Chief instinctively knew would be impossible to block. Instead, he barreled over to the side. Yet Nerulee pivoted about with violent grace so that his blade span around for the Spartan's neck.
He ducked beneath it, lunged forward and caught the sword arm mid-swing. But Nerulee grabbed the Chief's shoulder for support as he kicked the side of his helmet with his boot, knocking the super-soldier aside.
The Chief recovered into a crouch as Nerulee spiraled back to the ground and raced forward. However, he couldn't stop the Spartan from firing two more rounds that finally blew out his shields. Then he slipped under another overhead swing to plunge his own combat knife deep into the crux of the Elite's sword arm.
Growling, Nerulee withdrew a few meters to pull out the blade. It granted the Chief a chance to reload. But the Silent Shadow wasn't about to let up and made that clear by tossing a plasma grenade.
The Chief threw himself out of the way before the fiery blue orb could detonate. He heard the rising warble of an energy pistol and saw that Nerulee had loosed an overloaded bolt from his plasma pistol. The Spartan leaped aside. A second bolt followed not long after the first. He felt the heat of the inbound plasma wash over him as he evaded once more. He began noticing a pattern. The direction of each bolt wasn't trying to track him, but to push him to the edge of the pad. Nerulee was trying to corner him.
It worked.
He found himself close to the wall. The Elite rushed towards him, a third overcharged bolt already in the making. He released it before his opponent could get off another shot from his own pistol, the bolt coming low enough and fast enough that it couldn't be dodged without moving further into the corner. The Chief leaped in that direction to avoid the blast of sizzling energy, but Nerulee had followed his trajectory to get even closer and lunged forward.
Not slipping under it or even away from it, the Chief dashed head-on into what would have been a decapitating blow had he not sidestepped at the last moment to deliver a hard elbow to his opponent's visor. The strike knocked the Elite's head hack but his body withstood the momentum and Nerulee grabbed the elbow to hold it in place. He moved to swipe his sword against the Spartan's vulnerable midsection when the sword-arm was recaptured in a vice-grip, now at the dislocated joint.
The Chief squeezed hard, eliciting a pained growl from his enemy. He twisted both the alien's arms over his head to hold them in a restraint lock. He pulled Nerulee's sword arm hard over his shoulder, breaking it with an audible pop. Yet the Shadow refused to even scream. Instead, he kicked the Chief in the back of the leg, forcing his knee to bend so that he fell into a crouch. The Elite rolled over his shoulders with a leftwards twist and reversed the lock, breaking him free to spiral around with his energy sword.
Nevertheless, the Spartan caught his wrist once more, only for Nerulee to punch at him with his freehand. He allowed the blow to be purposefully caught in mid-air so that he could bring his full strength to bear. Nerulee pushed until the soldier's back crashed against the wall of the pad. He began to push down with his blade as if his arm weren't dislocated and broken.
The Chief winced at the sword's heat. No matter what he tried, the blade began to cut into his left arm bracer, treating his MJOLNIR like paper before the flames. Hydrostatic gel began leaking from the wound in his armor. The true pain began once the blade reached his skin.
He could think of only one option.
With a grunt, the Master Chief raised a boot and slammed it as hard as he could into Nerulee's knee. The force was so incredible that it pushed the entire joint a few inches backwards, making the Elite cry out in agony. He seized the opportunity to pull them both over the wall.
They tumbled over each other down the half-meter slope leading to the very edge of the pad, neither letting go of the other. The Chief timed it so that he was the last one able to grab hold of a divot in the slope's edge while letting go of Nerulee. He whipped out his M6 just as the Elite spun around to lash out one last time.
He pulled the trigger, sending a single round through Nerulee's visor that came out the back of his head.
First Blade Officer Nerulee released his sword as his own blood flew out around him. His red visor flickered offline as his limp body succumbed to gravity's claim, falling hundreds of meters to the plaza below.
Checking himself, the Chief saw that his numbers '117' were sliced diagonally by a glowing gash cut across his chest. It had been a close call, far too close. Had he shot the Elite even a split-second later than he had, that fight would have ended with no obvious winner.
The Phantom and its escorts were little more than dots now that continued shrinking into the east. He switched on the comms, turning to the UNSC-wide E-band frequency. "This is Sierra-117 to all UNSC forces, the prophet is confirmed KIA. I repeat, the prophet is KIA. What's playing now is a prerecording. Covenant forces are withdrawing to the east from the Luna Alta via Phantom dropship with the body. Possible Covenant commander is also onboard. Requesting immediate pursuit by anyone in the area. I repeat, break off and pursue, over."
He watched the dropship grow ever distant. However, he was surprised when he looked directly below it. Even before he'd finished his orders, someone was already giving chase. Two dots he discerned to be Warthogs were racing after them via a highway. Whoever they were, they were going where there would be no back-up, and they had to have known that.
"Chief."
He turned to see Kelly who was reaching over the edge for him. He took her hand and she pulled him back up onto the pad.
"How're the others?"
She nodded back to the door.
Sure enough, Fred and Lina were both making their way out onto the pad. In the room behind them they'd left three dead Silent Shadows lying in pools of their own blood. Judging by the glowing scratches and plasma scoring on their armor, it'd been a close fight.
"So, what do we do now Chief?" Fred asked.
The Master Chief looked back to the ever-distant dots then to the fighting unfolding on the plaza. There was still work to be done here.
"We'll help Convoy-10 out first, then see if we can find a ride to go after them."
"If they're still in the city by then." Linda added.
"I saw someone pursuing already. There's a chance they'll slow that Phantom down."
"What makes you think that?" Kelly asked.
The Chief could see the Warthogs finally disappear as they drove onto another highway.
"Just a feeling."
Kelly, Linda and Fred shared knowing looks. He turned back to eye Blue Team. He didn't have to see their faces to know that despite the setback they were more than ready for another round.
"Alright Spartans, let's move out."
Allucinato - Illusion