Disclaimer: I own nothing about Halo, Dune or the idea of
interdimensional travel. That was Bombsquad's idea.
&&&&&&
Chakosba breathed in the heady scent of battle, and lowered his rifle. It had been a glorious and righteous jihad for the Covenant. The humans had put up a spirited fight in the primary defence, but after the main door to the alien vessel was breached, they had no chance in avoiding the smiting fist and scouring plasma the Covenant gifted them with.
The Elite walked up the corridor, his golden armour reflecting the dull sheen of the crude human lighting, giving the impression that a holy light surrounded him. Which was indeed the case. Why else would he be chosen as one of the most holy warriors?
His pace took him past some Grunts, who bowed frantically, then scurried off to do some labour or another. He looked out one of the many breaches in the human vessel, and smiled.
Clanking footsteps heralded another Elite approaching Chakosba. He turned, drawing himself up in a haughty manner, then inwardly grimaced as he saw the other Elite's armour. Chalcedony. He hated those night-clad soldiers. Yes, they may be good fighters, but where was their faith? Chakosba often found that their nature was not as pious as the other Covenant soldiers, and because of that, Chakosba found them irritable, if not slightly repulsive. Nevertheless, they were his superiors. Chakosba bowed, and the other Elite acknowledged the gesture.
"Greetings of the battle-day, brother. I am Aeroeals'Haron." The black-armoured Elite said. "I presume you are Commander Chakosba?"
Chakosba nodded curtly. "Greetings Aeroeals'Haron." Another thing he despised. The lack of ranks. He could be acting in a subordinate manner to a mere sergeant!
"It appears to me as if we have driven off the humans from their ship, not so?" The Elite tilted his head to the left, a Covenant version of a raised eyebrow. "What are the battle statistics, Chakosba?"
Chakosba gritted his jaw angrily. This popinjay showed no respect to him, a veteran of three major jihads and twenty fatwa's! "We are yet to receive all the information, but it appears as if the humans have been drive off of this vessel. Preliminary investigation has revealed it to be likely that the humans used it as a control centre. It appears as if we have already won." The Fanatic-soldier smirked. "Such a shame. We could have stained the ground with the blood of a score more hundred humans, if only they didn't flee."
The night-covered marine tilted his head again. "Really? You think we have won the battle, that the humans are falling back in disarray?"
Chakosba nodded.
"Well then, it will come to a surprise to you then, that the Halo Command Centre has been completely demolished, not so?"
"Demolished?" Chakosba tilted his head. "Was it an accident?"
"Unfortunately not. The entire temple was destroyed by a high-yield explosive; our analysists believe some form of fission-based weapon. Besides from our fuel-rod guns, we possess no fission-based weapons. Halos do not depend on any form of fission power. Ergo, the humans must've deliberately destroyed it."
Chakosba shrugged. "So what? It will take us longer to destroy these humans. If worse comes to worse, we need only to request more reinforcements."
"So what?" Aeroeals'Haron repeated, a slight tone of menace in his voice. "Chakosba, I do not think you have full grasp of this. With the Command Centre destroyed, we have no way of getting back to our universe through this Halo. We do not know how far it is to the next Halo. We do not know if such Halo's are operable. We are cut off."
"We are the Covenant." Chakosba stated, simply.
"Do you think such a declaration will go down well with our troops? You may think, in your martyr-fuelled dreams that these soldiers will fight through, no matter the odds, but they are just mortals. Such news will break them."
"What you state is heresy, Aeroeals'Haron." Chakosba whispered. "They will fight, or they will die."
The other Elite was about to admonish Chakosba when a slight chime alerted him. He unclipped a miniaturised portable terminal from his belt, and held it to his face. Lights from the screen danced and flittered across his face.
"Well, it seems as if I have some good news on that topic. However, it also seems as if I have some bad news."
"Elaborate."
"One of our destroyers, 'The Bloody-Handed Zealot' detected a massive surge of energy from the Command Centre, just before it was destroyed. It seems as if the control centre was relocated elsewhere." The Elite grinned. "We may have a chance of getting off of this world after all."
"Most excellent."
"However, this means that the humans have purposely relocated the Command Centre to another part of the Halo. We also do not know where it has been relocated." The black-clad Elite looked at Chakosba. "Do you think you are capable of arranging a strike team to locate and capture the relocated Command Centre?"
Chakosba grinned. "I do not think so. I know so."
&&&&&&
Aeroeals'Haron grimaced as he saw the dropship slowly fly off into the distance, carrying that narrow-minded fanatic-leader. He shook his head. He had no idea of how to deal with anything subtler than a club, but then again, that was how he'd been trained.
He turned away from the hull breach, and activated his communicator, which relayed the message about how he now had control over the securing of the human's base. He walked briskly over to where the stock-taker, an Elite marked out by his white and grey clothing. "Greetings of the battle- day, sister. What is the statistics of this capture?"
The diminutive alien glanced at him briefly; he saw a brief glimpse of fear on her face. Good. Always good to see that their troopers weren't becoming idiotic on the advent of the Great War.
"Well, sir, this appears to have been some form of military landing craft, used for deploying a multitude of weapons, soldiers and vehicles on the ground."
Aeroeals'Haron gestured for her to go on.
"It appears that this ship could hold roughly one thousand soldiers, fifty vehicles and a full complement of flyers. We so far have accounted for forty-five percent of these forces."
"Good, good..." Aeroeals'Haron did some quick mental arithmetic and smiled. "Did we capture any enemy personnel?"
"We managed to capture five soldiers, and they are currently being interrogated by our fleet-inquisitors. We have also managed to capture many of the enemy's weapons and equipment. The soldiers appear to use projectile weapons stereotypical of the USCN, but of a much cruder design."
"However, a few pieces of technology have been found which are alarmingly complex." She picked up a large rifle, quite bulk and archaic in design. "This crude-looking weapon is actually one of the most deadly fire-arms I have ever seen. It utilises a small reactor to power a laser. This laser is outrageously powerful, and can cut through both shielding and armour with immaculate ease. However, it is hard to carry, hard to maintain, and often overheats, with ninety-percent critical damage."
"I'm glad to hear that."
"Another piece of technology that we managed to obtain is this:" She held up a coin-shaped device. "This may look simple, but in actual fact, it is a device of immense cunning. Upon activation, it emits a field large enough to encompass an entire personnel." The Elite activated it, and stood back. There was a small whine, and a shimmering haze separated the two Covenant from the device.
"Rather like our own personal shielding, not so?"
The other Elite shook gestured negative. "No. It is actually much more protective. It does not absorb energy until it is depleted. It instead repels the energy with the amount of force that it inflicted upon the shield. Observe:" The Elite drew a small plasma pistol, and fired at the shield continually until the weapon over-heated. The device was unharmed.
"It seems any projectile will be repelled by this shield, making the wearer quite invulnerable, until we discover a way to counteract the shield. However, we have discovered something that will penetrate such shielding."
"What?"
"Oddly enough, sir, it is Needler rounds. For some reason, I am at a loss to say, Needler rounds can easily penetrate and damage the wearer of the shield."
"How bizarre."
"My sentiments exactly, sir. We also discovered that wearers of such a shield also experience a form of sensory deprivation, to whit; it is harder to hear and to smell things around you. Senses dependent on atomic motion are dulled, which could be an exploitable weakness."
"Perhaps..." Aeroeals'Haron looked thoughtful. "I'll order some research into it." He looked back at the Elite. "Anything else?"
The Elite made an apathetic gesture. "Not really, sir, clothing, lighting, armour... we're applying the routine inspections of such things..." She snapped her head up, having remembered something. "There was also something else." She walked towards a human shipment-box.
"What is it?" Aeroeals'Haron asked.
"The markings on the side of the box translate as 'Melange'. We are not sure exactly what that means, but after we inspected for any viral or biological agents, we opened it to find this..." The Elite opened the box and stood back.
A pungent, pleasurable smell assaulted Aeroeals'Haron's senses. If he had known of such things, he would've described it as a burned cinnamon smell... with possibly the faintest hints of aniseed...
"Our chemical sensors have analysed it. It seems to be formed by a glycocarbon-protein, with a few trace elements here and there. So far we have discovered twenty such containers. Our analysts have found no military advantage in this chemical, but we have decided to keep it, possible see what happens to the humans when they are exposed to it."
"Perhaps..." Aeroeals'Haron sniffed the air, trying to recall the scent. The Elite went to close the container, but he stopped her. "Let me." He stated, looking benign. "Have you written up a report to send back to our superiors about the discoveries?"
"Well, sir, with the Halo unable to reactivate the teleporter, I thought it to be wiser to-"
"You thought wrong." Aeroeals'Haron snapped. "Write up a report immediately. I'll shall oversee the operations here." The Elite flinched under the verbal slap, then stalked off.
Aeroeals'Haron walked over to the container, and looked at the contents. It was filled to the brim with some sort of ground material, a red-brown sand, except the scent it gave off was hinted slightly with some type of moisture.
He tilted his head to the left, then slowly reached forward, scooping up a handful...
&&&&&&
Bomoko was jolted from his internal thoughts by the wing-flight engine of the 'thopter switching off, being replaced by guiding jets. One of the conscripts opened the side door, and Bomoko peered out. The smell of salt water and sulphur bombarded his nose, and for a moment disorientated him. Then the sun hit his face, and he awoke to the land of the living.
The 'thopter was currently circling a small, but heavily guarded, island. Bomoko quickly scanned the defences, checking for weak points in the defensive net. So far, he could not see any.
With a whine of slowing turbines, the 'thopter descended to the ground, cuing the passengers to leap out. The transport then peeled off, flying to some other destination elsewhere on the ringworld. Bomoko tracked its movement, shielding his eyes against the tropical sun. A soldier placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Sir? You should go to command. They're waiting for you."
&&&&&&
Sharp, controlled footsteps caused Idaho to place his hand on the rapier's handle, but his grip fell when he saw Bomoko stride through into the 'Silent Cartographer' room, as Ingsley had called it.
"Bomoko, allow me to introduce you to Mentat Ingsley." Idaho stated, gesturing at the latter to the former. Bomoko acknowledged Ingsley with a nod, but Ingsley was too engrossed with the information from the ringworld's main computer.
"Ingsley has uncovered a great deal about this artificial planet-"
"It's more than just an artificial planet, my dear Captain Idaho." Ingsley interrupted. "There is much more to this, this, masterpiece than some form of residence!"
Bomoko raised an eyebrow. "Continue..."
Ingsley looked at Bomoko with frantic, almost possessed, eyes. "This is an ancient piece of incredible technology, designed to link multiple realities with one another-"
"Multiple what?" Idaho asked.
"Multiple realities!" Ingsley repeated. "Uh, imagine this; say I took this glove..." He removed his with a flourish, "...and threw it into the air thus; there is equal chances of it landing palm up or down. Here, it has landed palm down, but since there was an equal chance of it landing palm up, logically, there must've been a point of complete uncertainty in the universe, where two conclusions could occur."
"In another reality, it could be exactly the same, except the glove landed palm up. Now, this was all hypothetical, but according to the data here, this ringworld, or Halo, as it is termed, allows access to these different realities. This is where these creatures came from. Another reality."
"So this is why the Bene Gesserit desired this to be destroyed..." Idaho mused. "For the first time, I agree with them."
"There's more to it than that! There is also some type of a weapons cache, three revolutions upspin from our current position. It's located somewhere in a marshland, but I'm sure we could access it easily. There's also-"
"That's all well and good, Ingsley." Bomoko cut in. "But can this help us in the fight against these Covenant?
Ingsley frowned at the interruption, but replied; "Ye-es, it can. Using the Halo's internal scanners..." His hands moved briefly over the light- panel, and a holographic representation of the ring appeared, with various icons denoting Covenant and human positions. "...we can spy on enemy movements and control our soldiers very easily."
"This detail is much better than anything we have developed..." Idaho muttered, staring at the hologram.
"Oh yes. Even though this is millennia old, it is still more advanced than anything we have ever developed, even pre-Butlerian Jihad. However, as to be expected, the Halo is in some state of disrepair..."
"How so?"
"Several 'drone junctions', a type of power-point, I should imagine, decayed beyond use. It appears that some sort of artificial 'guide' was powered by one of these junctions. Shame, really. It could have told us more about the Halo's past in detail-"
"Ingsley, as fascinating as this alien history is, we do not have time for archaeology. What can you tell us about the enemy's movement, and our missing soldiers?" Idaho snapped.
Ingsley shot Idaho a reproachful glare, but turned back to the holo- map, and began.
"From this map, I have found that the Covenant have four major strongholds, all in the form of spaceships, which appear to have transtellar capabilities. We, on the other hand, have only three. This island, and the remaining two frigates."
"While we do have forces scattered throughout Halo, it is not possible to unify them into a coherent strike force, so we have sent commands for them to engage the enemy in guerrilla warfare."
His hands danced along the light-panel, and the four Covenant ships appeared. "Although they are much smaller than a Highline, or indeed, a frigate, these ships are more than able to battle an entire armada of our ships, and win, mainly because of their superior firepower."
"However, at this time, these ships are currently holding position over the Halo, in order to deploy troops." The image flew away, and a real- time scene appeared, showing one of the ships over the ground.
"This is the ship; 'The Bloody-Handed Zealot'. It was the ship used to primarily arrange the attack on our main frigate. As you can see from this view, the Covenant utilise some type of anti-gravity transport to move troops and supplies to ground level." As Ingsley said this, the group could see Covenant dragging some captured equipment from the frigate onto the pad, then sent it hurtling skywards.
"Why are they moving our cargo?" Idaho queried.
"In order to study it further. They have tried to send signals reporting their status back to wherever they came from, but thankfully, I have managed to impede their messages."
"Already, the nearest ships to the other frigates are deploying troops, and they will swiftly overcome the frigates. If we stay put, we will have no chance of survival. This is the information I give to you."
There was a sullen silence, as Idaho absorbed this data, and the two Mentats processed it. Bomoko stirred, then started to pace the room.
"It's agreed that we cannot have another Heighliner here while the Covenant are still present, so we have to devise a strategy which can allow us to get of this Halo, and prevent the Covenant from following us, or re- activating the Halo, and sending reinforcements."
He continued to pace, rubbing his jaw, his sapho juice-stained lips pursing in concentration. "Ingsley, you said you had located that so- called 'weapons cache'?"
Ingsley nodded.
"Fine. I have come up with a strategy;"
"Ingsley; send out a radio request for the scattered troops near the cache to investigate and retrieve the weapons. If they can be used against the Covenant, the more the better. Make sure you tell them how to bypass any barriers on the way."
"Idaho; I want you to arrange a 'thopter strike and a tank force, both capable of disabling, or occupying two of those Covenant ships."
"What about the other two?"
"I'll get to those. Ingsley!" Ingsley looked up from the radio. "How many atomics do we have?"
"More than enough to destroy this thing two times over, but are you sure we want to d-"
"Good." Bomoko spun on one foot, and turned back to the holo-map. He studied the controls briefly, then started to manipulate them. "Ingsley, how did you manage to extract Idaho and his men so quickly? Never mind," he added, as he quickly scanned the controls. "I've found the teleporter." His fingers tapped as if playing a piano. "This technology will make my strategy much easier. We shall teleport atomics to the following positions;" Twelve points on the edge of the holo-map lit up.
"These points are some form of reactor, I'm not sure how they work, but I do know they create a phenomenal amount of energy. Logically, this energy would be used to power the rotation of the Halo, and maintain the habitats within it. By detonating atomics nearby, we can cause severe damage, ranging to breaching the entire Halo. This is how we shall demolish the Halo."
"A few other atomics shall be teleported to one of the Covenant ships. The damage they will cause should disable if not destroy the entire thing. The last ship, we shall capture."
Idaho laughed, Ingsley looked on in disbelief. "I don't know whether you noticed, Bomoko, but we couldn't defend ourselves against the Covenant. What makes you think we even have a chance at offence?"
Bomoko smiled. "Because we have an impostor among our troops."
Idaho looked confused, as did Ingsley. "Pardon?"
"Before the Heighliner warped here, I preformed a little analysis on the troops we have. Imagine my surprise when one of the conscripts we had was apparently already dead."
"I analysed the case further, and found that the man was found dead a day before he walked up and signed up. I studied this fellow for some time, trying to explain this phenomena. Two days later, I found out his, or rather, it's secret."
"It was no man, but a Face Dancer."
"Excuse me?" Idaho asked in disbelief. "One of my men is a Bene Tleilaxu agent? Why didn't you report it?"
"I thought it would make good blackmail material. Besides of which, I had no concrete proof, only the data I had collected. When the mission had ended, I intended to have him arrested and presented to the Emperor. However... that does not seem like my primary worry at this time."
"So what does this Face Dancer have to do with an attack on the Covenant?"
"A Face Dancer can impersonate anybody and almost anything. Logically, by informing it that unless he helps us, it cannot report to his masters, we get it to impersonate one of the aliens, and infiltrate the final ship. When it has secured the main command on the ship, we shall teleport ourselves to the ship, take it over, gather the remaining troops, detonate the reactors, and leave the Halo, having destroyed both it and the Covenant."
A few minutes passed, then Ingsley whistled slowly, and Idaho pulled a wry face. "What makes you think that the Face Dancer is still alive?"
"Face Dancers are notoriously difficult to kill, having been trained genetically and mentally to be survivors. It'll be alive. All we have to do is track it down, and explain the situation. It'll help us."
"But the other attacks, Bomoko." Ingsley cut in. "How do you purpose them to survive more than five minutes?"
"We'll have to rely on the conscript's skills in order to keep them occupied. Besides, we also have that 'cache' you told us about..."
&&&&&&
Byrnes stopped the quad on the lip of a cliff, and peered back. "I think they have stopped following us." He declared breathlessly.
"A good thin too." Pardee added. "I'm nearly out." He indicated the spinning, smoking, multi-barrelled machine gun. He peered into the muggy horizon. "Are you sure this is where the Carryall is going to be?"
"That's what Ingsley said over the radio. 'All human forces in this area, report to the highest ground, and set off a signal flare..." Byrnes lent down, and let one off. "...and transport shall come along to take you away form the area."
"Where do you think they'll take us?" Pardee asked.
"Somewhere far away from the Covenant, I hope. Maybe to another frigate, who knows..." Byrnes pulled a wry face. "I really just want to fall asleep for a long time, and just not care."
Pardee nodded slowly, and looked down the mountain path. A hissing noise caught his attention. He stuck his head out of the quad, and looked over the edge of the cliff.
"Byrnes, look at that!" He whispered, pointing shakily.
Byrnes' gaze followed Pardee's gesture, and he saw Covenant craft, at least three dropships with an escort of seven Banshees glide below them sinisterly silent.
"Where do you think they're going?" He whispered to Pardee.
"Probably to mop up any survivors from the frigate. Not all of them could've made it far... All we can do is pray that we're found by humans first." He shivered, then looked up at the darkening sky, adjusting the flare so it was more exposed.
Byrnes saw it first, slowly heading towards them. A Carryall. He picked up the now-dwindling flare, and waved it about, getting the pilot's attention. The Carryall waggled its wings, showing it acknowledged the signal, then flew in closer to pick them up.
Byrnes felt the hot air blast him as the engines tipped to bring the Carryall in close. Both men hopped off of the quad as the cumbersome 'carrying' legs, which titled the Carryall with its name, unfolded to engulf the ground car. At the same time, the rear compartment opened up, and a ladder descended, which Byrnes and Pardee both climbed up.
The cabin was refreshingly warm, if slightly oily, and Byrnes breathed a sigh of relief. Pardee sat opposite him, and clenched his hands together, rocking back and forth. Byrnes looked at the other occupants, all of which looked gaunt and haunted.
The annoy crackled, and the pilot's voice came through. "Alright, soldiers, listen up. Us flyboys are taking you to a new home, off in the nice, fetid swamp. You'll be given orders there, so bundle up warm, and no talking to any nasty bug-eyed monsters. Instead, shot them in the head." There was some forced laughter, but it sounded more like sighs of defeat.
The Carryall banked and turned, flying towards the new destination, where the troopers were to unleash the Halo's weapon cache.
What was neglected, however, was what shape the weapons would be in...
&&&&&&
R&R. Oh my! Covenant finding melange! A Face Dancer in their midst! The 'weapons cache' in the middle of the swamp! What a bunch of dues ex machina! Please Review.
&&&&&&
Chakosba breathed in the heady scent of battle, and lowered his rifle. It had been a glorious and righteous jihad for the Covenant. The humans had put up a spirited fight in the primary defence, but after the main door to the alien vessel was breached, they had no chance in avoiding the smiting fist and scouring plasma the Covenant gifted them with.
The Elite walked up the corridor, his golden armour reflecting the dull sheen of the crude human lighting, giving the impression that a holy light surrounded him. Which was indeed the case. Why else would he be chosen as one of the most holy warriors?
His pace took him past some Grunts, who bowed frantically, then scurried off to do some labour or another. He looked out one of the many breaches in the human vessel, and smiled.
Clanking footsteps heralded another Elite approaching Chakosba. He turned, drawing himself up in a haughty manner, then inwardly grimaced as he saw the other Elite's armour. Chalcedony. He hated those night-clad soldiers. Yes, they may be good fighters, but where was their faith? Chakosba often found that their nature was not as pious as the other Covenant soldiers, and because of that, Chakosba found them irritable, if not slightly repulsive. Nevertheless, they were his superiors. Chakosba bowed, and the other Elite acknowledged the gesture.
"Greetings of the battle-day, brother. I am Aeroeals'Haron." The black-armoured Elite said. "I presume you are Commander Chakosba?"
Chakosba nodded curtly. "Greetings Aeroeals'Haron." Another thing he despised. The lack of ranks. He could be acting in a subordinate manner to a mere sergeant!
"It appears to me as if we have driven off the humans from their ship, not so?" The Elite tilted his head to the left, a Covenant version of a raised eyebrow. "What are the battle statistics, Chakosba?"
Chakosba gritted his jaw angrily. This popinjay showed no respect to him, a veteran of three major jihads and twenty fatwa's! "We are yet to receive all the information, but it appears as if the humans have been drive off of this vessel. Preliminary investigation has revealed it to be likely that the humans used it as a control centre. It appears as if we have already won." The Fanatic-soldier smirked. "Such a shame. We could have stained the ground with the blood of a score more hundred humans, if only they didn't flee."
The night-covered marine tilted his head again. "Really? You think we have won the battle, that the humans are falling back in disarray?"
Chakosba nodded.
"Well then, it will come to a surprise to you then, that the Halo Command Centre has been completely demolished, not so?"
"Demolished?" Chakosba tilted his head. "Was it an accident?"
"Unfortunately not. The entire temple was destroyed by a high-yield explosive; our analysists believe some form of fission-based weapon. Besides from our fuel-rod guns, we possess no fission-based weapons. Halos do not depend on any form of fission power. Ergo, the humans must've deliberately destroyed it."
Chakosba shrugged. "So what? It will take us longer to destroy these humans. If worse comes to worse, we need only to request more reinforcements."
"So what?" Aeroeals'Haron repeated, a slight tone of menace in his voice. "Chakosba, I do not think you have full grasp of this. With the Command Centre destroyed, we have no way of getting back to our universe through this Halo. We do not know how far it is to the next Halo. We do not know if such Halo's are operable. We are cut off."
"We are the Covenant." Chakosba stated, simply.
"Do you think such a declaration will go down well with our troops? You may think, in your martyr-fuelled dreams that these soldiers will fight through, no matter the odds, but they are just mortals. Such news will break them."
"What you state is heresy, Aeroeals'Haron." Chakosba whispered. "They will fight, or they will die."
The other Elite was about to admonish Chakosba when a slight chime alerted him. He unclipped a miniaturised portable terminal from his belt, and held it to his face. Lights from the screen danced and flittered across his face.
"Well, it seems as if I have some good news on that topic. However, it also seems as if I have some bad news."
"Elaborate."
"One of our destroyers, 'The Bloody-Handed Zealot' detected a massive surge of energy from the Command Centre, just before it was destroyed. It seems as if the control centre was relocated elsewhere." The Elite grinned. "We may have a chance of getting off of this world after all."
"Most excellent."
"However, this means that the humans have purposely relocated the Command Centre to another part of the Halo. We also do not know where it has been relocated." The black-clad Elite looked at Chakosba. "Do you think you are capable of arranging a strike team to locate and capture the relocated Command Centre?"
Chakosba grinned. "I do not think so. I know so."
&&&&&&
Aeroeals'Haron grimaced as he saw the dropship slowly fly off into the distance, carrying that narrow-minded fanatic-leader. He shook his head. He had no idea of how to deal with anything subtler than a club, but then again, that was how he'd been trained.
He turned away from the hull breach, and activated his communicator, which relayed the message about how he now had control over the securing of the human's base. He walked briskly over to where the stock-taker, an Elite marked out by his white and grey clothing. "Greetings of the battle- day, sister. What is the statistics of this capture?"
The diminutive alien glanced at him briefly; he saw a brief glimpse of fear on her face. Good. Always good to see that their troopers weren't becoming idiotic on the advent of the Great War.
"Well, sir, this appears to have been some form of military landing craft, used for deploying a multitude of weapons, soldiers and vehicles on the ground."
Aeroeals'Haron gestured for her to go on.
"It appears that this ship could hold roughly one thousand soldiers, fifty vehicles and a full complement of flyers. We so far have accounted for forty-five percent of these forces."
"Good, good..." Aeroeals'Haron did some quick mental arithmetic and smiled. "Did we capture any enemy personnel?"
"We managed to capture five soldiers, and they are currently being interrogated by our fleet-inquisitors. We have also managed to capture many of the enemy's weapons and equipment. The soldiers appear to use projectile weapons stereotypical of the USCN, but of a much cruder design."
"However, a few pieces of technology have been found which are alarmingly complex." She picked up a large rifle, quite bulk and archaic in design. "This crude-looking weapon is actually one of the most deadly fire-arms I have ever seen. It utilises a small reactor to power a laser. This laser is outrageously powerful, and can cut through both shielding and armour with immaculate ease. However, it is hard to carry, hard to maintain, and often overheats, with ninety-percent critical damage."
"I'm glad to hear that."
"Another piece of technology that we managed to obtain is this:" She held up a coin-shaped device. "This may look simple, but in actual fact, it is a device of immense cunning. Upon activation, it emits a field large enough to encompass an entire personnel." The Elite activated it, and stood back. There was a small whine, and a shimmering haze separated the two Covenant from the device.
"Rather like our own personal shielding, not so?"
The other Elite shook gestured negative. "No. It is actually much more protective. It does not absorb energy until it is depleted. It instead repels the energy with the amount of force that it inflicted upon the shield. Observe:" The Elite drew a small plasma pistol, and fired at the shield continually until the weapon over-heated. The device was unharmed.
"It seems any projectile will be repelled by this shield, making the wearer quite invulnerable, until we discover a way to counteract the shield. However, we have discovered something that will penetrate such shielding."
"What?"
"Oddly enough, sir, it is Needler rounds. For some reason, I am at a loss to say, Needler rounds can easily penetrate and damage the wearer of the shield."
"How bizarre."
"My sentiments exactly, sir. We also discovered that wearers of such a shield also experience a form of sensory deprivation, to whit; it is harder to hear and to smell things around you. Senses dependent on atomic motion are dulled, which could be an exploitable weakness."
"Perhaps..." Aeroeals'Haron looked thoughtful. "I'll order some research into it." He looked back at the Elite. "Anything else?"
The Elite made an apathetic gesture. "Not really, sir, clothing, lighting, armour... we're applying the routine inspections of such things..." She snapped her head up, having remembered something. "There was also something else." She walked towards a human shipment-box.
"What is it?" Aeroeals'Haron asked.
"The markings on the side of the box translate as 'Melange'. We are not sure exactly what that means, but after we inspected for any viral or biological agents, we opened it to find this..." The Elite opened the box and stood back.
A pungent, pleasurable smell assaulted Aeroeals'Haron's senses. If he had known of such things, he would've described it as a burned cinnamon smell... with possibly the faintest hints of aniseed...
"Our chemical sensors have analysed it. It seems to be formed by a glycocarbon-protein, with a few trace elements here and there. So far we have discovered twenty such containers. Our analysts have found no military advantage in this chemical, but we have decided to keep it, possible see what happens to the humans when they are exposed to it."
"Perhaps..." Aeroeals'Haron sniffed the air, trying to recall the scent. The Elite went to close the container, but he stopped her. "Let me." He stated, looking benign. "Have you written up a report to send back to our superiors about the discoveries?"
"Well, sir, with the Halo unable to reactivate the teleporter, I thought it to be wiser to-"
"You thought wrong." Aeroeals'Haron snapped. "Write up a report immediately. I'll shall oversee the operations here." The Elite flinched under the verbal slap, then stalked off.
Aeroeals'Haron walked over to the container, and looked at the contents. It was filled to the brim with some sort of ground material, a red-brown sand, except the scent it gave off was hinted slightly with some type of moisture.
He tilted his head to the left, then slowly reached forward, scooping up a handful...
&&&&&&
Bomoko was jolted from his internal thoughts by the wing-flight engine of the 'thopter switching off, being replaced by guiding jets. One of the conscripts opened the side door, and Bomoko peered out. The smell of salt water and sulphur bombarded his nose, and for a moment disorientated him. Then the sun hit his face, and he awoke to the land of the living.
The 'thopter was currently circling a small, but heavily guarded, island. Bomoko quickly scanned the defences, checking for weak points in the defensive net. So far, he could not see any.
With a whine of slowing turbines, the 'thopter descended to the ground, cuing the passengers to leap out. The transport then peeled off, flying to some other destination elsewhere on the ringworld. Bomoko tracked its movement, shielding his eyes against the tropical sun. A soldier placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Sir? You should go to command. They're waiting for you."
&&&&&&
Sharp, controlled footsteps caused Idaho to place his hand on the rapier's handle, but his grip fell when he saw Bomoko stride through into the 'Silent Cartographer' room, as Ingsley had called it.
"Bomoko, allow me to introduce you to Mentat Ingsley." Idaho stated, gesturing at the latter to the former. Bomoko acknowledged Ingsley with a nod, but Ingsley was too engrossed with the information from the ringworld's main computer.
"Ingsley has uncovered a great deal about this artificial planet-"
"It's more than just an artificial planet, my dear Captain Idaho." Ingsley interrupted. "There is much more to this, this, masterpiece than some form of residence!"
Bomoko raised an eyebrow. "Continue..."
Ingsley looked at Bomoko with frantic, almost possessed, eyes. "This is an ancient piece of incredible technology, designed to link multiple realities with one another-"
"Multiple what?" Idaho asked.
"Multiple realities!" Ingsley repeated. "Uh, imagine this; say I took this glove..." He removed his with a flourish, "...and threw it into the air thus; there is equal chances of it landing palm up or down. Here, it has landed palm down, but since there was an equal chance of it landing palm up, logically, there must've been a point of complete uncertainty in the universe, where two conclusions could occur."
"In another reality, it could be exactly the same, except the glove landed palm up. Now, this was all hypothetical, but according to the data here, this ringworld, or Halo, as it is termed, allows access to these different realities. This is where these creatures came from. Another reality."
"So this is why the Bene Gesserit desired this to be destroyed..." Idaho mused. "For the first time, I agree with them."
"There's more to it than that! There is also some type of a weapons cache, three revolutions upspin from our current position. It's located somewhere in a marshland, but I'm sure we could access it easily. There's also-"
"That's all well and good, Ingsley." Bomoko cut in. "But can this help us in the fight against these Covenant?
Ingsley frowned at the interruption, but replied; "Ye-es, it can. Using the Halo's internal scanners..." His hands moved briefly over the light- panel, and a holographic representation of the ring appeared, with various icons denoting Covenant and human positions. "...we can spy on enemy movements and control our soldiers very easily."
"This detail is much better than anything we have developed..." Idaho muttered, staring at the hologram.
"Oh yes. Even though this is millennia old, it is still more advanced than anything we have ever developed, even pre-Butlerian Jihad. However, as to be expected, the Halo is in some state of disrepair..."
"How so?"
"Several 'drone junctions', a type of power-point, I should imagine, decayed beyond use. It appears that some sort of artificial 'guide' was powered by one of these junctions. Shame, really. It could have told us more about the Halo's past in detail-"
"Ingsley, as fascinating as this alien history is, we do not have time for archaeology. What can you tell us about the enemy's movement, and our missing soldiers?" Idaho snapped.
Ingsley shot Idaho a reproachful glare, but turned back to the holo- map, and began.
"From this map, I have found that the Covenant have four major strongholds, all in the form of spaceships, which appear to have transtellar capabilities. We, on the other hand, have only three. This island, and the remaining two frigates."
"While we do have forces scattered throughout Halo, it is not possible to unify them into a coherent strike force, so we have sent commands for them to engage the enemy in guerrilla warfare."
His hands danced along the light-panel, and the four Covenant ships appeared. "Although they are much smaller than a Highline, or indeed, a frigate, these ships are more than able to battle an entire armada of our ships, and win, mainly because of their superior firepower."
"However, at this time, these ships are currently holding position over the Halo, in order to deploy troops." The image flew away, and a real- time scene appeared, showing one of the ships over the ground.
"This is the ship; 'The Bloody-Handed Zealot'. It was the ship used to primarily arrange the attack on our main frigate. As you can see from this view, the Covenant utilise some type of anti-gravity transport to move troops and supplies to ground level." As Ingsley said this, the group could see Covenant dragging some captured equipment from the frigate onto the pad, then sent it hurtling skywards.
"Why are they moving our cargo?" Idaho queried.
"In order to study it further. They have tried to send signals reporting their status back to wherever they came from, but thankfully, I have managed to impede their messages."
"Already, the nearest ships to the other frigates are deploying troops, and they will swiftly overcome the frigates. If we stay put, we will have no chance of survival. This is the information I give to you."
There was a sullen silence, as Idaho absorbed this data, and the two Mentats processed it. Bomoko stirred, then started to pace the room.
"It's agreed that we cannot have another Heighliner here while the Covenant are still present, so we have to devise a strategy which can allow us to get of this Halo, and prevent the Covenant from following us, or re- activating the Halo, and sending reinforcements."
He continued to pace, rubbing his jaw, his sapho juice-stained lips pursing in concentration. "Ingsley, you said you had located that so- called 'weapons cache'?"
Ingsley nodded.
"Fine. I have come up with a strategy;"
"Ingsley; send out a radio request for the scattered troops near the cache to investigate and retrieve the weapons. If they can be used against the Covenant, the more the better. Make sure you tell them how to bypass any barriers on the way."
"Idaho; I want you to arrange a 'thopter strike and a tank force, both capable of disabling, or occupying two of those Covenant ships."
"What about the other two?"
"I'll get to those. Ingsley!" Ingsley looked up from the radio. "How many atomics do we have?"
"More than enough to destroy this thing two times over, but are you sure we want to d-"
"Good." Bomoko spun on one foot, and turned back to the holo-map. He studied the controls briefly, then started to manipulate them. "Ingsley, how did you manage to extract Idaho and his men so quickly? Never mind," he added, as he quickly scanned the controls. "I've found the teleporter." His fingers tapped as if playing a piano. "This technology will make my strategy much easier. We shall teleport atomics to the following positions;" Twelve points on the edge of the holo-map lit up.
"These points are some form of reactor, I'm not sure how they work, but I do know they create a phenomenal amount of energy. Logically, this energy would be used to power the rotation of the Halo, and maintain the habitats within it. By detonating atomics nearby, we can cause severe damage, ranging to breaching the entire Halo. This is how we shall demolish the Halo."
"A few other atomics shall be teleported to one of the Covenant ships. The damage they will cause should disable if not destroy the entire thing. The last ship, we shall capture."
Idaho laughed, Ingsley looked on in disbelief. "I don't know whether you noticed, Bomoko, but we couldn't defend ourselves against the Covenant. What makes you think we even have a chance at offence?"
Bomoko smiled. "Because we have an impostor among our troops."
Idaho looked confused, as did Ingsley. "Pardon?"
"Before the Heighliner warped here, I preformed a little analysis on the troops we have. Imagine my surprise when one of the conscripts we had was apparently already dead."
"I analysed the case further, and found that the man was found dead a day before he walked up and signed up. I studied this fellow for some time, trying to explain this phenomena. Two days later, I found out his, or rather, it's secret."
"It was no man, but a Face Dancer."
"Excuse me?" Idaho asked in disbelief. "One of my men is a Bene Tleilaxu agent? Why didn't you report it?"
"I thought it would make good blackmail material. Besides of which, I had no concrete proof, only the data I had collected. When the mission had ended, I intended to have him arrested and presented to the Emperor. However... that does not seem like my primary worry at this time."
"So what does this Face Dancer have to do with an attack on the Covenant?"
"A Face Dancer can impersonate anybody and almost anything. Logically, by informing it that unless he helps us, it cannot report to his masters, we get it to impersonate one of the aliens, and infiltrate the final ship. When it has secured the main command on the ship, we shall teleport ourselves to the ship, take it over, gather the remaining troops, detonate the reactors, and leave the Halo, having destroyed both it and the Covenant."
A few minutes passed, then Ingsley whistled slowly, and Idaho pulled a wry face. "What makes you think that the Face Dancer is still alive?"
"Face Dancers are notoriously difficult to kill, having been trained genetically and mentally to be survivors. It'll be alive. All we have to do is track it down, and explain the situation. It'll help us."
"But the other attacks, Bomoko." Ingsley cut in. "How do you purpose them to survive more than five minutes?"
"We'll have to rely on the conscript's skills in order to keep them occupied. Besides, we also have that 'cache' you told us about..."
&&&&&&
Byrnes stopped the quad on the lip of a cliff, and peered back. "I think they have stopped following us." He declared breathlessly.
"A good thin too." Pardee added. "I'm nearly out." He indicated the spinning, smoking, multi-barrelled machine gun. He peered into the muggy horizon. "Are you sure this is where the Carryall is going to be?"
"That's what Ingsley said over the radio. 'All human forces in this area, report to the highest ground, and set off a signal flare..." Byrnes lent down, and let one off. "...and transport shall come along to take you away form the area."
"Where do you think they'll take us?" Pardee asked.
"Somewhere far away from the Covenant, I hope. Maybe to another frigate, who knows..." Byrnes pulled a wry face. "I really just want to fall asleep for a long time, and just not care."
Pardee nodded slowly, and looked down the mountain path. A hissing noise caught his attention. He stuck his head out of the quad, and looked over the edge of the cliff.
"Byrnes, look at that!" He whispered, pointing shakily.
Byrnes' gaze followed Pardee's gesture, and he saw Covenant craft, at least three dropships with an escort of seven Banshees glide below them sinisterly silent.
"Where do you think they're going?" He whispered to Pardee.
"Probably to mop up any survivors from the frigate. Not all of them could've made it far... All we can do is pray that we're found by humans first." He shivered, then looked up at the darkening sky, adjusting the flare so it was more exposed.
Byrnes saw it first, slowly heading towards them. A Carryall. He picked up the now-dwindling flare, and waved it about, getting the pilot's attention. The Carryall waggled its wings, showing it acknowledged the signal, then flew in closer to pick them up.
Byrnes felt the hot air blast him as the engines tipped to bring the Carryall in close. Both men hopped off of the quad as the cumbersome 'carrying' legs, which titled the Carryall with its name, unfolded to engulf the ground car. At the same time, the rear compartment opened up, and a ladder descended, which Byrnes and Pardee both climbed up.
The cabin was refreshingly warm, if slightly oily, and Byrnes breathed a sigh of relief. Pardee sat opposite him, and clenched his hands together, rocking back and forth. Byrnes looked at the other occupants, all of which looked gaunt and haunted.
The annoy crackled, and the pilot's voice came through. "Alright, soldiers, listen up. Us flyboys are taking you to a new home, off in the nice, fetid swamp. You'll be given orders there, so bundle up warm, and no talking to any nasty bug-eyed monsters. Instead, shot them in the head." There was some forced laughter, but it sounded more like sighs of defeat.
The Carryall banked and turned, flying towards the new destination, where the troopers were to unleash the Halo's weapon cache.
What was neglected, however, was what shape the weapons would be in...
&&&&&&
R&R. Oh my! Covenant finding melange! A Face Dancer in their midst! The 'weapons cache' in the middle of the swamp! What a bunch of dues ex machina! Please Review.