Hello again, everyone, and welcome back to my remastered Halo - MechWarrior/BattleTech crossover. Thank you all for your current support. I greatly appreciate any feedback that I can get.
By the way, one of my reviewers wrote that he saw an incoming 'Oscar Oscar Foxtrot.' Does anyone here know what that means? If you do, let me know in the description below.
As always, leave a review and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Halo or MechWarrior/BattleTech franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of Microsoft Game Studios, 343 Industries, Bungie, FASA Corporation, FASA Interactive, Catalyst Game Labs, Piranha Games Inc., etc. Any material original to the franchises belongs to their respective developers and publishers. Any material not original to the franchises is of my own invention. I do not own any music listed in each chapter. Any music listed belongs to it's original composers and/or artists.
Halo
Near Potential Weapons Cache
September 20th, 2552
The Anhur's engines flared as the VTOL flew through the swampy air and towards the structure that was it's intended goal. In the Troop Bay of the VTOL, Jenkins was busy adjusting his gear as he waited for the pilot of the VTOL to announce their arrival at their destination. All around him, other Marines were getting ready, along with Johnson, who was leading the operation.
Nearby, the Sergeant was fiddling around with a computer terminal, while an SLDF Marine helped him navigate the unfamiliar controls. I wonder what he's doing, Jenkins thought as the two men talked as they worked. Probably going to play some flip music soon, if I were to guess. He smirked slightly as he began thinking of the inevitable groans that he was going to hear soon.
As his mind worked, it began to drift as to why they were here. According to the briefing he'd received, the SLDF had managed to persuade a Sangheili, Vortas 'Qualomee, to share classified Covenant intelligence with them. According to the disillusioned Sangheili, he had been in charge of a weapons shipment to a Forerunner facility located in the region the VTOL was currently flying through. Silva, having recently come back from a successful supply raid on the Autumn, urged Keyes and O'Donnell to act on this intelligence.
The two men had agreed, but with a few stipulations. The first was that 'Qualomee would lead them to the supply cache, if it was there. The second stipulation was that Johnson would lead the operation, while Alpha Base would coordinate using a drone that was equipped with IR cameras and powerful scanning equipment.
Those stipulations where why Jenkins, and many of the Marines and ODST's, were sending glares at the Sangheili that was with them right now. 'Qualomee had consented to go, but he was unarmed, and a modified UNSC neural-inhibitor collar was placed around his neck, which would paralyze his body if he acted in a hostile manner towards SLDF or UNSC personnel. Only his armor was left untouched, and that was due to the fact that he needed body armor if he was going to survive for long out in the field.
Surprisingly, 'Qualomee had consented to the conditions, and had willingly allowed himself to be restrained. In fact, he had asked what would happen if he defected to the SLDF more than once, which indicated a possible desire to join the SLDF and UNSC's fight against the Covenant. When he head heard about the offer, O'Donnell had said, "I see… I'll think about it. If he does as told while on mission and shows that he's been telling the truth, then I'll consider accepting him into our ranks. Until then, I am still highly suspicious of him."
Now, the Sangheili was sitting in the Troop Bay with them, neural-inhibitor collar around his neck. His maroon red armor glinted in the well illuminated Troop Bay, a stark contrast to the olive drab and gray armor that everyone else was wearing, aside from the ODST's and Spartans. So far, he had been silent, but he had made no hostile moves towards anyone. His mandibles were moving, but Jenkins couldn't hear any sounds coming from them. Must be asking his 'gods' for forgiveness, he thought. Given that he's thinking of defecting, I can see why he would rely on his faith to give him strength.
Just as Jenkins finished that line of thought, Johnson smirked, a happy grin on his face. "Finally," he beamed. "About time for some good music." Moments later, the familiar sound of an electric guitar began echoing inside of the sealed Troop Bay.
Right on cue, a number of Marines began to grumble. "Why do we have to listen to this old stuff, Sarge," Mendoza asked, a frown on his face.
"Watch your mouth, son," Johnson retorted. "This 'stuff' is your history. It should remind you grunts what we're fighting to protect!"
"Well, if the Covenant wanna wipe out this particular part of my history, that's fine by me."
"Yeah, better it than us," Bisenti agreed.
"You ask 'em real nice next time you see 'em, Bisenti," Johnson sarcastically suggested. "I'm sure they'll be happy to oblige."
"Oh, we don't have to," Mendoza added. "We've got one right here. Maybe we can ask him."
"I have no interest in destroying what little history you have left, Human," 'Qualomee replied. "If anything, I am rather curious as to your kind's history, especially when it comes to music. I must admit, it is… interesting to hear."
"You're interested in music," Jenkins asked, legitimate curiosity in his voice.
That seemed to cheer 'Qualomee up, as he looked up and said, "Yes. Even when I was a childling, I always liked the sound of music. It has always spoken to a part of me that is creative and artistic. If I survive this installation, I hope to pursue my passion for music."
"Then why join the Covenant?"
"I had little choice in the matter, not that it bothered me at the time. My uncles, aunts, father and mother were once members of the Covenant. It was expected of me, and given that I was training to fight at the time, I felt that it was a natural fit." Frowning as he looked down, he said, "Now I realize how wrong I was…"
"I take it you heard what Xhov was saying at one point," Jenkins asked.
"Yes," 'Qualomee replied. "Now that I've been among you…" He fell silent again, and it was clear that he didn't have a desire to talk anymore. Shame was plainly evident in his body language, and Jenkins had no desire to prod the Sangheili Major any more.
Right on cue, the music changed. Instead of the flip music that Johnson heard, this was a different style entirely. Sounds like someone got very creative with a synthesizer, Jenkins thought as he heard the music. Despite the fact that it was from another universe, he found that he enjoyed it.
That was when the pilot spoke up. "We are approaching LZ. No hostiles detected. I'm bringing her down."
"You heard the man," Johnson shouted. "Get locked, cocked and ready to rock!" Right on cue, weapons were charged and readied, as the interior of the Troop Bay turned red.
"Red light! Stand by!," an SLDF Marine shouted. The VTOL continued to shudder as it came in for a landing, with the powerful engines flaring as it came to a stop. Instantly, the light turned green. "Green light! Move out!"
Right on cue, the Troop Bay door opened, with the ramp splashing down into murky water. Almost immediately, everyone clambered out, even as Johnson shouted, "Go, go, go!" As soon as everyone ahead of him was out, Jenkins ran forwards, while an SLDF Marine accompanied 'Qualomee to make sure the neural-inhibitor collar activated should he become aggressive.
As soon as Jenkins was out of the VTOL, he landed in the murky water that was present before him. Said murky water came up to his knees almost immediately, with some of it splashing onto his armored chest. Were it not for the fact that the infantry kit the SLDF used was environmentally sealed, his legs from the knees down would've become immediately soaked in frigid water, as he could feel the temperature through the body suit. Moments later, the suit's temperature regulation systems kicked in, warming up his frigid legs.
As it did so, he took a moment to look around. It was clear that they had landed in a swamp, as a good portion of the area was inundated in stagnant water. Algae grew in abundance on the water, while trees that resembled mangroves stuck up out of the water like fungi growing on wood. Breaking up the brackish water were areas of landmass that were higher than water level, though abundant plant life grew on those landmasses.
What had Jenkins attention, though, was the smell of the swamp. For the most part, he didn't notice anything off, but he thought he smelled a very faint, sickly sweet odor of some kind. Must be my imagination, he thought, but I'll keep my nose on it. It might turn out to be far more important than I think it to be.
Apparently, Mendoza was not a fan of swamps, as he grumbled loudly when he got off the VTOL. "Fuck me," he snarled. "Of all the places on this ring, why did these Forerunners have to build this place in a swamp? Couldn't they have chosen a tropical island like last time?"
"Stow that garbage, Mendoza," Johnson ordered. "You're a Marine, not a crybaby that wines when his boots get dirty!" Motioning to an SLDF Marine, he manipulated the controls for the Long Range MILCOM Kit that was on the man's back, having practiced getting one to work. A moment later, he keyed his own COM and said, "Alpha Base, this is Delta Lead. Do you read me?"
"Loud and clear," came the reply. "Drone is moving in. Repositioning now. New Location: Nav Point Alpha. Grid: Rho Two-Niner-Four. I have visual and IR feed of your position. Be advised, target building is a Forerunner installation roughly .5 klicks ahead of your position. Proceed with caution. Over."
"Roger that," Johnson replied. "Show us what you've got."
"Affirmative." There was a brief pause before the UAV operator said, "I've got eyes on the facility. No Covenant activity, but plenty of Covenant supply crates."
"The Covenant is likely inside the facility," 'Qualomee told Johnson. "They might have gone inside to seek shelter from the weather." To prove his point, a light rain began to fall, and it was likely it was going to get much, much heavier.
"Got it," Johnson nodded. "Everyone, begin moving out." As they moved forwards, he said to the UAV operator, "Is there anyone else in the area?"
"Affirmative," came the reply. "Salvage Team Bravo has arrived on station. They're already deploying amphibious cargo haulers. They will likely link up with you further ahead."
"Got it." With that, the squad began to advance forwards, weapons at the ready in the event the Covenant decided to show up.
As they moved through the swamp, Jenkins felt an odd tensing in his gut, almost as though some part of his mind was saying, 'I don't like what's going on. Keep an eye out.' Swamp must be getting to me, he thought, but he decided to listen to his gut instinct. Something felt wrong here, but he didn't know what.
As such, he was nearly caught off guard when Mendoza said, "Whoa! Guys! Come check this shit out!" As soon as he said this, the others ran forwards to catch up to him.
"What is it," Johnson asked.
"Look at this," Mendoza shouted, pointing a finger to the front.
Looking forwards, Jenkins looked around to see what was going on. To his amazement, he spotted what looked like a Covenant Spirit troop transport. It was lying nose down on the ground, with the underbelly resting against an embankment that jutted out of the muddy soil. Sparks flew from some parts of the wreckage, and there were bodies scattered everywhere.
"What happened here," Bisenti asked.
"I do not know," 'Qualomee replied. "However, it is strange that they would abandon such a ship here. Things must have turned foul if the Covenant were willing to leave a highly valuable piece of equipment behind."
"Yeah," Mendoza nodded, walking towards the wreck. "I wonder why they left it here." Behind them, Jenkins was just as curious, though the sight only intensified the tension he was feeling in his gut, more evidence to show that something was wrong.
"Well, we won't find out standing around here, that's for certain," Johnson decided. "Let's get moving towards the facility. I don't plan on staying here for very long." The Marines silently agreed, even as they advanced forwards.
The terrain ahead was fairly smooth, but muddy, with the mud making it difficult to find good places to walk on. As they moved forwards, they found a tree that had fallen over about a couple years ago, with the fallen tree bridging a grassy gully between them and a small hill. The wood was rotting, though it was strong enough still to support the weight of two or three fully armored and armed people at a time.
As such, Johnson decided that Jenkins, Mendoza and Bisenti would go first, while 'Qualomee, given that he was easily the heaviest out of the group, would go last. Moving onto the fallen trunk, Jenkins winced as he felt the wood give slightly under his weight, not enough to break, but enough to make him nervous. Please don't break on me, he thought as he advanced forwards, with the others following behind him closely. Please don't break on me.
Suddenly, he thought he spotted motion up ahead, causing him to abruptly stop. Snapping his gaze upwards, he thought he spotted a silhouette up ahead, though the fog made it difficult for him to identify what it was. Thinking it was possibly a trick of the light, he looked at his sensor suite, only to find a single, unidentified contact that remained stationary, before moving away. "Unknown contact," he reported.
"Where," Johnson asked.
"It was just up on that hill ahead of us. Sensors caught sight of it and I thought I saw movement."
"Hang on. Let me get the UAV controller on the COM." A moment later, he said, "Alpha Base, did you see anything ahead of me?"
"Stand by," came the reply. A moment later, the UAV operator said, "Affirmative. Sensor sweep caught an unknown contact moving away from your position. Salvage Team Bravo, was anyone from your team at the structure?"
"Negative," came a quiet, husky voice. "None of my boys were over there. We're still moving towards the structure. Amphibious terrain is making things difficult."
"Roger that," came the reply. A moment later, Johnson heard, "Delta Team, continue with the operation, but remain vigilant. Be advised, we will likely lose MILCOM signals as soon as you move inside. Over."
"Roger that," Johnson replied. With that they advanced, but more cautiously than before. It wasn't long before everyone crossed the trunk to the other side. Moving forwards, they found the entrance to the Forerunner facility, which was a wide open entrance that led inside to some kind of lobby. "Mendoza, move it up," Johnson shouted.
On cue, Mendoza moved up, M42D ready as he moved inside. There was silence as the team waited for a response. Moments later, they heard, "Area's clear. No contacts at all."
"OK, let's move!" With that, everyone proceeded inside, weapons ready as they advanced. Moving inside, Jenkins spotted more of that beautiful Forerunner architecture. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard a sound to his left. Looking in that direction, he spotted a lift of some kind coming from up below."
"Looks like an elevator," Johnson remarked. "I guess we're invited."
With that, the team, with some hesitance, moved onto the lift, before Johnson looked at the controls. After some time, he made a guess and hit one of the glyphs, smiling as they began to travel downwards into the bowels of the facility. It wasn't long before they arrived at a lobby just below them, with the team advancing further into the structure. This time 'Qualomee took point, with an SLDF Marine standing by just in case he became belligerent.
As they moved through the facility, Jenkins noticed something odd. Where is everyone, he thought as they moved through the facility. 'Qualomee said that there were Covenant in here. If there are, then why haven't they come out to attack us? Further adding to his questions were splotches of what he thought were blood.
Up ahead, 'Qualomee was also confused, as he knew for certain that there had been Covenant here. On top of that, he could smell that sickly sweet smell getting stronger, thought he doubted that the others could smell it. As such, he was surprised when he heard Jenkins ask, "Do you smell that?"
"Smell what," Bisenti asked.
"That stench," Jenkins insisted. "I can barely smell it, but it's getting stronger. It's like someone puked and didn't clean it up."
"I can smell it too," 'Qualomee agreed.
"Really?," Bisenti remarked sarcastically.
"Yes," 'Qualomee replied, the sarcasm lost on him. "Sangheili senses of smell are very sensitive. The odor, as Jenkins said, is weak, but I can smell it, and it's getting stronger." As he said this, they entered a larger room.
It was a large room, enough to house four Scorpions with room to spare, and divided into two levels, with a series of catwalks above them. A chamber occupied the middle of the room, with transparent metal alloy being supported by metal framework. The room had suffered damage recently, as there was a fire burning off in a corner.
What had everyone's attention, however, was the Sangheili corpse that was in the room. An Elite Zealot was lying on the ground, it's eyes gazing lifelessly into the void. Whatever had killed it had struck with enough force to rip apart the nanolaminate armor on it's chest, while cutting through bones and into the chest and torso cavity. Organs were plainly visible, with many showing signs of severe damage. Purple-blue blood coated the ground like paint.
'Qualomee was visibly shaken by the sight, as he gasped before turning away. Spittle dripped from his mouth as he held back the contents of his previous meal, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Calming himself down, he turned back and said, "By the gods, what happened to them?"
"I take it this is not what you were expecting," Johnson asked.
"No," 'Qualomee replied. "I thought that the Covenant here were still alive. The crates we passed clearly indicate that they received the weapons shipment, but they were all empty. Now that I see this fallen warrior, I fear that something horrible happened to them, something that even you might have cause to fear."
"Ugh," Private Kappus frowned. "What killed him?"
"Some kind of attack," Mendoza stated. "Maybe his chest was bludgeoned in?"
"No," Kappus shook his head. "If something smashed his chest in, it would be crumpled in. Something tore his chest open and scrambled the insides. Weird."
""What's that," Johnson asked. "Plasma scoring?"
"Yeah… I dunno. Maybe there was an accident. Friendly fire, you know, or something?"
"No," 'Qualomee frowned. "A Sangheili Zealot and his fellow warriors would be so careless. Something attacked them, and killed them in this manner." Moving forwards, he knelt down to the lifeless Elite and, with his hands, closed the Elite's eyes. "May the life beyond be kinder than the life you knew," he whispered to the dead warrior before standing up. "Let us move. I do not wish to share this fellow Sangheili's fate."
"Damn straight," Johnson nodded. "Keep moving through the facililty. There's bound to be something here."
True enough, as they advanced deeper into the facility, they found a large room with an observation chamber. The room extended into a larger room, one that had doors lining the walls. A single entrance down below led into the chamber.
As they moved inside, Jenkins looked into the room out of curiosity. Almost immediately, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end, as though they were charged with static electricity. Something's wrong, he thought, his heart beginning to race as the room, despite being alien, seemed strangely familiar to him. I don't know how, but I know that there's danger in there. His hands began to sweat as his mouth dried up and his muscles tensed.
Johnson, though, didn't seem to notice anything wrong, but he did notice Jenkins' behavior. "Jenkins," he asked, "is something wrong?"
"I don't know," Jenkins replied.
Johnson remained silent as he looked inside. After a moment he said, "We'll do a brief check of the room. If we find something in there, and it's hostile, we'll evac from the facility. Understood?"
"Completely," Jenkins nodded. With that, they advanced down a pair of ramps that led to the room's entrance.
"Door's locked," Mendoza reported, motioning to the door, with the locking lights glowing red in color.
"I've got it," an SLDF Marine replied. Reaching into his armored backpack, he pulled out what appeared to be a touch screen datapad, known as a 'noteputer.' Pulling something else out of his armor, he attached what appeared to be a spoofer to the door, before putting in a series of commands. Moments later, the door opened up, allowing the squad inside.
"Check those smaller rooms," Johnson ordered. "Weapons might be in there. If you don't find anything, let me know."
There was a minute of silence as the team looked through the tiny viewports. "I've got a bad feelin' about this…" Mendoza frowned. Normally, Johnson would've retorted, but he could feel that same gut feeling.
"No weapons present," one of the SLDF Marines reported. "Looks like 'Qualomee was right: whatever attacked those Elites warranted them to use all the weapons they had. It would make sense given-"
Suddenly, they were interrupted by a COM transmission from Salvage Team Bravo. "Delta Team, this is ST Bravo."
"Go ahead, Bravo," Johnson replied.
"We're picking up a lot of contacts up here. We-" Suddenly, gunfire erupted as the salvage team engaged something, or someone, up on the surface. "OHHHH, SHIIIT! Johnson, get the hell out of there! Get out of there NOW!"
"What's going on?"
"We've got multiple Bravo Whiskey's up here: bioweapons, and they're pissed! Get out of there! NOW!" Moments later, the COM channel went dead.
Turning to 'Qualomee, Johnson asked. "Did you know about this?"
"No," the Sangheili Major replied. "I do not know anything about biological weapons. I only sent the supplies here, nothing more."
Johnson squinted at 'Qualomee's face, attempting to determine if he was lying or not. From the tone of his voice, as well as his shocked and confused demeanor, told him that the Sangheili wasn't lying. On top of that, the way his eyes darted around indicated he was telling the truth.
Suddenly, one of the SLDF Marines shouted, "Shit! The door's closed on us!" Turning around, Johnson found, much to his horror, that the door had indeed closed. Now it was locked tight.
"Find a way out of here," he ordered. "Marines, get into combat formation around the door! I don't know what's going on, but it's not good at all! Keep your eyes downrange and fingers on the trigger." turning to the SLDF Marines, he said, "Put a det-charge on the door. If it won't open, we'll force it to open."
"Yes, sir," the SLDF Marines replied. One of them ran over to the door, before pulling something out of his backpack. "Placing breaching charge," he called out.
Just as he did, Johnson thought he heard a slithering sound, like a snake was moving over wet concrete. What the hell was that, he thought. Certainly not like anything I'm familiar with. Focusing his attention, he kept his sights downrange.
Whatever sound it was, it had lent speed to the SLDF Marines, as one said, "Breaching charge placed. Get clear!" On the man's orders, the others stacked up on the door, moving out of the way of the blast.
There was a loud KA-BOOM as the breaching charge detonated, with one pound of Composition 80 blasting off. The blast was powerful enough that it blew the tri-panel door cleanly out into the corridor where they had come from, but it was weak enough that it didn't injure the squad. "We're through," Johnson shouted. "Everyone out!"
Not wanting to argue, everyone piled out, with Jenkins taking the lead. Weapon at the ready, he advanced into the corridor, before checking both ramp ways. Seeing they were clear, he advanced forwards, ready to kill anything that got in his way. Hearing a sound as he exited, he turned to the left… and saw the most horrifying and disgusting sight of his life.
It was a Sangheili Zealot, or rather what was left of one. The alien looked as though it had turned into a pile of walking puss, as it's skin was a sickly pale yellow color. The bodysuit was torn up in multiple places, revealing more sickly yellow flesh. The upper body was grotesquely distorted, with a large bulge in the middle that had tentacles growing from it. One of the Elite's arms was relatively normal, while the other had morphed into a large, three fingered claw, with spines on the outer side of that arm. It's head had been displayed by the bulbous mass in it's chest.
The sight was so disgusting and horrific, that Jenkins briefly froze as his mind was seized by a deep, primordial terror. When the creature began to limp towards him, that terror was promptly banished from his mind by years of military training, as well as a horrified, "What the fucking hell?!", coming from behind him. Instinctively, Jenkins snapped up his M42D and opened fire, screaming loudly as he did so.
The rifle roared loudly, as it too seemed to scream at the monstrosity in front of Jenkins. The grotesquely mutated creature jerked and squirmed as SAPHE bullets tore into it's body, tearing chunks out of it's corpse. Moments later, one round punched through the tentacled mass in it's chest, sending the thing toppling over onto it's chest.
Jenkins continued to fire, screaming as he dumped the entire magazine into the monster's chest. Only when the weapon stopped firing did he realize that he was not dead. Gasping for air, he looked around at the others, who were standing behind him. "What the hell was that?," he asked, his face as white as a sheet.
"I… I don't know," Mendoza gasped as he looked at the corpse, bile rising in his throat. "I really don't-" Retching, he moved in front of the others before vomiting on the floor, his recent meal spilling from his mouth and onto the floor.
"May I see it," 'Qualomee asked. Nodding, Johnson and the others moved, allowing the Sangheili Major to see what was going on. As soon as he caught sight of the corpse, Johnson watched as 'Qualomee's eyes went wide with horror. "By the gods!," he shouted. "The horror… the horror!"
"Do you know what it is," Johnson asked.
"N-no," 'Qualomee replied. "At least, not fully. I remember reading texts on something known as the 'Parasite.' If this is what the Parasite is…" He trailed off, unable to find words that could adequately describe what he was thinking or feeling.
The silence was interrupted when an SLDF Marine said, "Sir, we've got trouble. More of those hideous monstrosities inbound."
"Everyone, reload and get moving," Johnson shouted. "We'll find a way out of here!" The sounds of magazines being replaced quickly filled the air, before the team began to move out, weapons at the ready. It proved to be a wise choice.
Moving through the door, they spotted numerous Covenant that were down below their position, mostly Grunts and Jackals, while a single Sangheili Ultra was present. All of them were firing on more of the monsters that Jenkins had killed, with these monsters accompanied by small, bulbous creatures. "Silence the Parasite," the Sangheili roared. "We cannot allow them to infect us, or we-" Moments later, one such creature latched onto the Sangheili. What happened next was something out of a Cronenberg film.
The small creature burrowed into the Sangheili's body, tearing through the body suit before nestling itself inside the Elite. The Elite Ultra roared in agony as it's body began to mutate. It's chest began to bulge outwards, tearing apart the body suit in the process as tendrils erupted out of it's chest. It's left arm morphed into a three fingered claw, while spines grew out of the outer side of said arm. The Elite screamed as it's head was displaced to the right side, with the scream turning into a blood curdling screech. Pieces of armor were displaced and forced off as the mutations continued, with the Elite's skin turning from black into a sickly pale yellow. The sickly sweet smell of putrefaction pervaded the area.
Soon, the mutations were complete, and all that was left of the Elite was a version of the monster that Jenkins had killed. Soon, the Grunts and Jackals were infected as well, with the Grunts becoming small, bulbous creatures with pulsating sacs on their backs, while the Jackals more closely resembled the Elites, only they were now on all fours. It was a disgusting and horrific scene.
"Oh my…" Jenkins began before trailing off. "Is that… is that what happens if… if…"
"If one of those things gets into us," Bisenti finished, his own face pale with horror. "If that's the case, we have to kill those little things as well."
Even Johnson, who was usually a cool customer, looked sick to his stomach. "I agree," he nodded, the usual confidence in his voice gone, replaced by a nameless dread. "Everyone, weapons at the ready. Avoid those things if you can, but if you have to, kill them as quickly as possible." Everyone agreed to that proposal. When presented with a fate like this, death by suicide or violence was a far more preferable alternative.
. . .
Onboard Echo-419, Chief was busy preparing his arsenal of weaponry for what he knew might be coming. Pulling out a power pack, he loaded it into the M96IV that he had been given by Shaw once they had linked up with Foehammer. Nearby, he could see Alex preparing his own weaponry, with the Clan Elstar making sure his own M96IV was fully operational.
As they had flown along, Chief was still confused as to why Cortana had urged him to get to this location as quickly as possible. She couldn't contact him over the COM, as she was still in the Control Room, but if her tone of voice was any indicator, then it was far worse than he had thought. Deep down, he hoped that the Salvage Team was alright, along with the squad that O'Donnell had sent to guard them.
It wasn't long before they reached a Forerunner structure, which resembled a large, rectangular building, that was present in the area. "The last transmission from this area was around thirty minutes ago," Foe Hammer reported. "I've tried to reestablish COM's, but if they're still inside the structure, the structure itself will be shielding their COM's. If you locate the squads sent there, radio in, and I'll come pick you up."
"Roger that," Alex replied. "We will rescue those men at any cost." Clearing his throat, he looked at Chief and asked, "Ready?"
"Affirmative," Chief replied. Moments later, Foe Hammer's Pelican touched down onto the ground, with the two men stepping out.
"A lot of fog present," Alex observed as the Pelican flew off. "It is not bad enough to warrant the use of thermals, but be prepared to use them." Looking at the structure, he said, "If I was someone retreating from a bio-weapon, I would take shelter there."
"Agreed," Chief nodded. As the two men advanced, he asked, "Are you alright? You looked alarmed back there."
Turning towards Chief, Alex asked, "Was I?" When Chief nodded, the Clansman sighed before he said, "When I heard the words 'Bravo Whiskey', it reminded me of a mission that I had undertaken before. Have you heard of the Taurian Concordat?"
"I've studied them," Chief replied. "Why?"
"Well, a radical faction inside their government was planning some nasty shit for the Inner Sphere. They wanted to get back at the Federated Suns for some crime that happened during the Age of War. It was a biological weapon, a heavily modified version of smallpox that was designed to infect someone, and remain dormant for six months, during which they would unwittingly transmit the illness to other people. Once it became active, though, death was usually guaranteed. They nearly succeeded."
"What happened?"
"The SLIC caught wind of the plot. They sent an agent into the Concordat to infiltrate their bio-science laboratories. When he found that the rumors were true, he informed the SLIC immediately. I was handed the contract to wreck their facilities.
"When I found what was inside… I legitimately wanted to massacre every scientist that was involved with the project, Chief. I found who groups of people that were dead from the bioweapon. The worst part was that they had kidnapped people from the Federated Suns, people that had not done them any wrong at all; not even children were safe from their experiments. I did what I could for them by incinerating the bodies with the Flamer that was on my 'Mech." As he spoke, Alex had a haunted expression on his face, as though he could still see the disease ridden bodies.
"Were they punished in the end?"
"They were. The Concordat's mainstream faction was appalled by what had happened. The fanatical subfaction was wiped out to the last man. So, you can imagine the level of horror that I felt when I heard the words 'Bravo Willie.' It felt as though I was back at that facility. I have never really gotten over the horror of what happened that day; come to think of it, I do not think I ever will."
"There is a difference. We can save lives here, if we act quickly enough."
"Yeah. I suppose you are right." As the two men talked, they had advanced towards the Forerunner complex and reached the entrance. As they did, they heard a humming sound, and Chief's Motion Tracker registered movement.
"Looks like a lift," he told Alex.
"I see," Alex nodded. Raising his weapon, he said, "Get ready in the event something comes after us." Nodding at that, Chief raised his own weapon, finger ready to pull the trigger.
As the elevator came up, the two men tensed as it reached ground level. Instead of encountering some horrific monster or swarm, they watched as a squad of SLDF and UNSC Marines appeared, along with a single Elite. Much to their relief, the men were alive and seemingly unharmed. "Johnson," Chief asked, recognizing the Sergeant, "are you alright?"
"We're fine, Chief," Johnson replied, "at least most of us are. We've got some wounded here, and we had to kill one of our own."
"Why," Alex asked.
Looking at Alex, Johnson said, "Sir, you wouldn't believe the shit that we went through down there." Turning back to Chief, he said, "Chief, there's some kind of alien parasite that's infesting this place. If it gets into someone, it mutates them into something out of a fucking body horror movie. We had to clear out as quickly as we could. Salvage Team Bravo is MIA, as far as I know."
"What about him," Chief asked, motioning to the Sangheili.
"'Qualomee?," Johnson asked. When Chief nodded, he said, "He saved our asses more than once, Chief. He even threw a Marine out of the way when one of those things tried to infect him and killed the little fucker. I'd say he's earned his freedom."
"I could not live with myself if another living thing was infested by the Parasite while I did nothing," 'Qualomee replied. "It would be a great dishonor, one that I would not be able to live with." His hands clenched into fists as he spoke, as if he was still performing that selfless act of valor.
Chief was about to speak up when a COM signal cut through the conversation. "This is Edward McConnor of Salvage Team Bravo. Delta Team, do you read me?"
"Loud and clear," Johnson replied. "Are you alright?"
"We're fine, thankfully. Those Bravo Whiskey's ambushed us, but we were able to fight 'em off. We tried contacting you, but we got nothing but static, so we had to retreat to the DropShip. If I was your ass, I'd get my ass to the DropShip pronto."
"Don't have to tell me twice," Johnson nodded. Switching COM frequencies, he said, "Alpha Base, do you read us still?"
"Affirmative," came the reply from the UAV operator. "I have a drone over your sector still. Status report?"
"We've encountered bioweapons of an unknown type under this facility. We're pulling out, but we need guidance to the DropShip. Can you assist?"
There was a few seconds of silence, then, "Roger that, Delta Lead. I am painting a waypoint on the DropShip right now. I'll monitor the area for any unknown contacts. If those are the Bravo Willies you're talking about, you'll know where they are from several kilometers away."
"Roger that. Thanks for the assist. Johnson out." Turning to the Marines, he said, "Alright, Marines. We've got an evac ride on the DropShip. Get your asses moving pronto!" Turning to Chief and Alex, he said, "Can you help us keep those fuckers off us while we get to the DropShip?"
"Affirmative," Chief replied. With that, the entire squad began to move out, now joined by Chief and Alex.
Looking at the distance marker, Chief knew that they were going to be crossing a good amount of distance. The DropShip was slightly over five hundred meters away, and the only way through according to the UAV scan of the area, was over a meandering path of ground that wove between trees and fetid pools of water, while being littered with obstacles that would slow them down. Either way, it was going to be a slog.
As they advanced, the UAV operator said, "Incoming unknown contacts. All sides!"
"Get ready to shoot," Johnson shouted. "Those fuckers are coming!"
Moments later, the 'fuckers' were on top of them, with more of the monsters running out of the dense swampland and into sight. "By Aleksandr Kerensky," Alex roared as he saw the monsters for the first time. "What twisted mockery of life is this?!"
"The worst kind," Johnson shouted as he and the others opened fire. Marines, Elementals and Spartans worked in concert with each other, firing their weapons as they made a mad dash for the DropShip. More than once, a Marine stumbled, only to be hoisted up by a comrade, 'Qualomee, Chief or Alex as they ran like hell for the DropShip.
As they fought, a clinical part of Chief's mind began making a tactical analysis of the unknown hostiles. They have a very low level of intelligence, he thought as he splattered one of the aliens with a blow from his fist as he fired at another one. They do not use any tactics, other than blindly rushing at a target, even if that target is well armed. Their bodies also appear to be vulnerable to laser and projectile based weapons. Even as he thought this, he made sure none of the monsters reached the Marines.
Eventually, the DropShip came into sight. Powerful floodlights emanated from sections of the DropShip, while the 'Mech Bay doors were open, allowing Chief to see the interior of the 'Ship. A squad of SLDF Marines were manning support weapons that had been positioned near the doors, while the main weapons built onto the Leopard on the side they were facing out of were pointed outwards. "Get on board! We are leaving!," he shouted to the others, with no one arguing with him.
As everyone loaded on board, he thought he spotted something odd. Small, silver colored drones of an unknown design were flying into the area, firing what appeared to be particle beam weapons at the monsters. At the same time, he heard a sound, like someone was humming a tune to themselves.
He was about to get on board the DropShip when he found himself standing on some kind of structure in the swamp, far away from the DropShip itself. Looking around, he found himself looking at a large orb, roughly the size of a softball. It's silver colored chassis had a single eye that glowed bright blue. Energy streamed out from the sides, indicating some kind of anti-gravity propulsion system.
A moment later, he found that he wasn't alone. "Fuck," he heard as Alex appeared right next to him. Spotting the Orb, he raised his weapon.
A moment later, the Orb spoke in, much to Chief's surprise, perfect English. "Please, do not attack," the Orb said a moment later. "I mean you no harm, Human, nor do I mean the Reclaimer any harm at all."
"What did you do, and who are you," Alex snarled.
"I merely transported you to this structure here," the Orb replied matter-of-factly. "As for who I am, I am 343 Guilty Spark, Monitor of Installation 04. I am here because someone released the Flood."
"You mean the Bravo Whiskey's that are down there?"
"If you mean bioweapons, then yes."
"Why did you bring us here," Chief asked, "and what about the men under our command?"
"The men under your command will not be harmed, I assure you," Guilty Spark replied placatingly. "I am currently communicating with them to leave the area as soon as possible, in order to avoid infection by the Flood. My function is to prevent it from leaving this installation, but I require your assistance. Come. This way."
Before Chief or Alex could ask for more information, they both vanished, along with Guilty Spark. "Chief," the UAV operator called out, "I've lost your signal. Where'd you go? Chief? CHIEF?!" What no one knew now, was that the war was taking on a much more grisly turn.