Chapter III: Awakening
The Marines and Spartans completed their mopping up action and began policing the dead. Four Spartans were KIA and another was suffering from a malfunctioning helmet, compliments of a Brute's soft touch. Jason approached Chris to assess the damage.
"How's your hat Chris?"
The Spartan looked at Jason bareheaded and scowled. He held the helmet in his hand and was inspecting it closely, but it was readily apparent to even the casual observer there was severe damage. The visor had been cracked by a vicious blow and a spider web of splits covered the majority of the material. The right side of the helmet was partially slagged by the Brute's laser rifle and it was clear that the suit would not seal properly anymore.
"I think this one's done Jason. The HUD is all screwed up and I can't get it to seal right anymore. I don't think I'll be able to jump anymore without access to the navigational systems."
"We'll send for a replacement from the Hornet. The next shuttle should be able to bring you one down. In the meantime, stay out here and help re-secure the perimeter of the temple. Those Brutes did a number on the sentries."
"Aye aye sir. Once I get my hat back, may I report back to the team?"
"Affirmative Chris, send me an acknowledgement wink once you're ready, and we'll send our coordinates."
Jason clapped his fellow Spartan on the shoulder before hearing Victoria chime in his helmet.
"Stand fast Petty Officer, his helmet will repair itself to a certain degree. Just sit tight and watch."
Jason and Chris watched in bewilderment as before their eyes, the material of his helmet began to re-knit itself. The hard composite of the helmet began to melt as if scalded by acid, but in reverse. The damage seemed to fill in on itself and re-expand on its own. Slowly at first, but faster as the process continued, the helmet repaired itself. First the crushed in side, then the mangled locking rings. After several minutes, the helmet was back in working order, albeit scarred and with slightly irregular angles.
"Amazing, this must be the Flood influence on the armor. What happened Victoria?"
"The alloy in you armor has been imbued with certain memory characteristics. In other words, it's a smart metal that will return to its shape after being bent or deformed. We used the design for Flood infection cells to create a sort of symbiotic phage in the armor, which use the structures of intact atoms to repair damaged or converted ones."
The visor was next, and the opaque material seemed to turn to liquid before reforming sans the spider web of cracks. Jason and Chris were still marveling at the armor when the Master Chief contacted them on the net.
"Petty Officer, we are preparing to assault the antechamber. We need your team to assist because Cortana gave me dimensions on this chamber, and it is absolutely massive. Report to the entry door and we'll give you your team's assignment there."
"Aye Chief, we're on our way."
Jason turned to his remaining four operational Spartans and slapped a new magazine into his rifle. They followed suit, reloading weapons as he racked the charging handle and chambered a round.
"Black team, we're going to assault the antechamber. Jump to the entry doors and await assignment."
The five Black team Spartans disappeared from sight, leaving the Marine squad the Sergeant Johnson had detailed on security outside, while Johnson and 1st platoon rushed to return to their breaching position.
High above the planet, the Hornet continued launching and retrieving flights of fighters and bombers in support of the Marines on the surface. The latest arrivals were a flight of Skyhawks returning from a bombing run on a suspected Covenant position within a canyon. Because of the volume of incoming and outgoing flights, the control tower had issued an order leaving the active bay doors open.
There were several reasons for this, one it being impractical to open and shut the massive doors after every launch or retrieval, and another being that the Covenant air force was thought to be neutralized. This was the first mistake the fleet had made.
A needle shuttle, an exact duplicate of the first Brute bearing shuttle, circled the Hornet and her escorts. It's cloak rendered it invisible to the ships' sensors and for all intents and purposes immune to their weapons, short of a nuclear detonation.
With so many open launch bays to choose from, the shuttle's pilots took their time selecting a bay that was not nearly as busy as the main launch areas. One bay launched a pair of Longswords before becoming dormant, the only activity inside consisted of a few technicians in pressure suits running maintenance on an interceptor.
The shuttle darted forward and entered the bay undetected, even by the techs within who were shielded from outside stimulus by their suits. Only when the armored Brutes were upon them did the humans have the slightest inkling that something was wrong. And by then it was far too late.
Boson's Mate First Class Carlos Delgado sat in the control tower of the Hornet, monitoring the various flight operations of the ship. The term control tower was misleading; a hold over from aircraft carriers of old earth's wet navies. He actually sat in a control room within the Hornet, within the main launch bays. Here he could visually supervise the majority of operations on the ship, and his console gave him the ability to remotely monitor the rest. He was going through a flight list, of scheduled launches and retrievals when and emergency call came through the aviation net.
"Hornet control, Hornet control, this is Saber Oh Four. I have experienced mechanical malfunctions and I am bingo fuel. Repeat I am bingo fuel and requesting emergency clearance to land."
"Saber Oh Four, this is Hornet control, I read you. We have an empty bay for you, come to heading zero four niner, I repeat zero four niner. I will dispatch emergency teams to that location to greet you on your arrival."
"Affirmative Hornet control. Zero four niner. Thanks much for the direction and room gentlemen. Saber Oh Four out."
Carlos switched his viewing screen to target the incoming craft and he saw Saber Oh Four approaching the ship on an emergency landing vector. Then he switched the screen to the bay that he had just sent Oh Four to and saw it deserted. He knew that some techs were supposed to be running diagnostics and maintenance on a Longsword in there, but he assumed that they had finished already.
He examined the screen a little closer and saw what seemed to be oil stains, or puddles of hydraulic fluid on the deck near the interceptor. He sighed and shook his head as he mentally cursed the lazy techs who had made a mess but not bothered to clean it up.
"Attention, emergency and rescue teams report to Bay Thirty-Eight. Report to Bay Three Eight. We have a Fury that is bingo fuel coming in hot, and there is mechanical damage to the craft. Medical teams on standby."
Carlos hummed and smiled to himself, another small disaster averted. He congratulated himself on his calm, professional handling of the incident, and then turned his attention to more pressing matters around the launch bay like getting some grease monkeys off their tails and back to work.
Ensign Richter gently eased his Longsword towards the safe haven of the Hornet. Shrill alarms sounded in the cockpit as his damaged craft struggled to make it back to the carrier. Guiding recticles appeared on his HUD, guiding him into his landing bay. The deck was cleared but the precaution was unnecessary as Richter deftly landed the interceptor in the center of the landing pad with ease.
"Piece of cake. Flight, this is Saber Oh Four, I have landed in Bay Three Eight and am shutting down. Clear for maintenance crews to approach the Longsword."
"Roger that Oh Four, nice to have you safely back onboard. Crews are on station and we'll have you up and flying in no time at all."
"Thanks much Flight, Oh Four out."
The Ensign removed his flight helmet as the inner bay doors opened and a crew of mechanics appeared, smiling and waving at him. He jauntily returned their salutes as his canopy hissed open, white gas escaping from vent systems along the rim of the cockpit. His crew chief, Chief Delouise, attached the ladder to the side of the craft for Richter to debark.
"Nice to have you back sir, what was the problem?"
"Couldn't tell you Chief, I was flying along, just dandy, when all a sudden the Master Alarm went off and I started losing fuel. The bird looked fine in the preflight, so I have no idea what went wrong."
"Well sir, you're right, I checked this damn thing myself twice before you did, and all systems were operating at maximum efficiency, and she was in tip top shape. I don't know what could have happened sir, but you have my word that it will be fixed and this incident will never repeat itself."
"Thanks Chief, I know I can count on you."
Richter smiled at the Chief, who was standing at the base of the ladder, as he began to climb down from the cockpit. But before he reached the deck, a guttural howl filled the bay. Richter looked to the far side of the bay where dark armored formed had materialized before his very eyes.
"What in the hell?"
Before he or any of the techs could respond, the bay was crisscrossed with deadly blue lasers, scissoring men in half, burning through flesh and bone with ease. Chief Delouise threw Richter from the ladder just as a bright beam swept through his torso. Richter slammed into the deck as the Chief's topside separated from his bottom and both toppled to the floor.
"Son of bitch! Security! We have hostiles in Bay Three Eight! I repeat there are hostile boarders in Bay Three Eight. Enemy strength is at least..."
A laser cut through the Ensign's head, neatly severing his scalp and top of the brain. His lifeless body slumped to the floor, his pistol discharging into the deck. The Brutes spread through the bay, killing all the remaining technicians as well as the medical team that had arrived to check Ensign Richter.
A squad of the Hornet's Marines approached through the hallways, securing bulkheads one after another in conjunction with another security team. Power had been cut to this section of the ship and only red emergency lights lit the corridors. Powerful lights attached to the Marines' weapons and helmets swept the darkness, probing each shadow for possible targets.
Corporal Williams led his team closer and closer still to the compromised bay. Reports had indicated enemy forces onboard, but had been cut off before an estimate to enemy numbers could be made. Red team, William's team's counterpart, was currently sealing bulkheads approaching the bay.
Private Mobutu was on point, and had just entered another section when a roar echoed down the corridor. The Marines froze and all weapons centered on the next vacant doorway, lights wavering crazily then all focusing on one point. They hugged the walls, trying to minimize their target profiles while adequately covering the engagement zone.
A single armored figure appeared in the hallway, dark and menacing. Another growl issued from the Brute as it raised its laser rifle and prepared to fire. The Marines responded at once, firing a devastating salvo at the exposed Brute. Rifle rounds tore into its armor, and shotgun shells pounded it backwards. The Brute literally dissolved under the sheer firepower, its innards plastering the bulkhead behind it.
The Marines ceased fire, but as the din ceased, two more Brutes swung into the hallway. Their lasers flashed and Private Mobutu and another Lance Corporal fell slain. The team ducked back into doorways to avoid the lasers as more creased the frames, slagging metal wherever they touched.
Blue team Marines engaged the Brutes in a desperate firefight, attempting to hold them from progressing any farther into the ship. Red team Marines were similarly engaged, and were similarly being destroyed.
Corporal Williams peered down the hallway and fired a burst from his rifle, hoping to keep the Brutes pinned down. But the situation was dire, and it was the Brutes that had the Marines pinned down. A laser flashed and creased William's arm, flashing across his shielding. The charge bar on his HUD drained to a quarter and the heat transferred to his clothing. He jumped back, swatting at his BDU but not actually making contact through the shield.
He grimaced as he saw the red mark on his bicep and realized that the burn would leave a nasty scar. Across the hall, his surviving Marines fired sporadically waiting for reinforcements, and a chance to throw the Brutes off the ship.
Within the depths of the Hornet, in a secret, sealed off chamber, a deadly force was being awakened. Cryogenic chambers hissed and opened, curly wisps of frigid fog escaping and hovering over the grated floor. The chamber was sparsely lit, hardly enough illumination to provide a proper look at the contents of the sleep boxes.
A heavy booted footfall sounded and echoed through the darkness. And another. And a dozen more after that. The footfalls moved through the darkness and covered before the exit door. No visions accompanied the sounds, a fact that could be attributed to the lack of lighting, but was due to something else. A disembodied voice thundered through the hold.
"Welcome back Marines. It's been a long time. Our services and accomplishments have always been over shadowed by the ONI freaks and their sterling combat record, but all that is about to change. They've met their equals and have taken casualties, and now it's our time to shine. We will re-secure the ship and show once and for all that the Marines are the best of the best."
Not a sound could be heard. Nothing moved throughout the chamber. The doors opened and light poured into the darkness, revealing nothing. Minutes later, the doors shut again, enclosing the sleep chambers in darkness once more.
In his private briefing room, Colonel Ackerson smiled contentedly to himself. Finally he would show Doctor Halsey, wherever she was, that her freak show was second best. He tapped controls on his console and began to finalize his plans.
On the planet, the Master Chief rallied his Spartans in front of the antechamber doors. He had been saddened to hear that half of Black team was KIA, but casualties were a fact of war. As hard as you tried to avoid them, they were virtually unavoidable. Jason had taken the casualties hard, privately asking the Chief to be relieved of team command, but John had refused. He was a young Spartan, and had to come to terms with the fact that mistakes will be made, and while he must take responsibility for his actions, the difficulty will be mainly with himself.
John remembered how hard it had been to leave Sam behind on that very first mission, so very long ago. He remembered the turmoil he felt inside, and how he felt to leave one of his own teammates to die. Jason would too eventually realize that sacrifices would have to be made to win the war, he only need wait.
The Spartans had been assembled to assault the antechamber when a distress call came from the Hornet.
"Master Chief, we're in trouble up here. Somehow a Covenant shuttle with Brutes aboard managed to get into one of our bays. The Brutes are rampaging and killing, pushing our Marines back. We can't stop them. We've barely got them contained on Deck 8, but I don't know how much longer that will last. We need your team onboard now to repel them, before they take the ship."
"Aye aye Admiral. I will be aboard presently with a team to deal with the boarders."
John turned to his Spartans and addressed them once again.
"Blue team, with me. We are jumping back to the Hornet to deal with a Brute boarding party. They somehow managed to get aboard and are pushing through the Marine security detail. Jason, you will lead the remaining teams in assaulting the chamber. I'll leave the tactical decisions up to you. Let's move out."
Master Chief and Blue team disappeared, leaving Jason to think out the assault plan for the antechamber. He stood motionless for a moment, before forcing himself out of his stupor and into action.
"Victoria, I want a full schematic of that chamber, and whatever readings we have of what's inside."
In the darkened corridors of the Hornet, Corporal Williams nodded to his squad mate, and the Private let loose a hail of fire down the hall. At that moment, Williams bolted from his doorway and to another farther down the hall, away from the Brutes. Once Williams was behind cover again, Private Johansen pulled back into his own doorway.
The rest of Williams' team had been wiped out, picked off one at a time by the Brute's lasers. He and Johansen were retreating, desperately trying to reach the next security point. Williams looked down at the ammo counter on his rifle, noting dismally that it read only twenty. Twenty rounds left, and then he would be reduced to his sidearm.
He clicked his fire selector switch to three round burst and swung out into the hall. He fired twice and stopped as Johansen burst from his hiding place and sprinted down the corridor. Laser fire blasted from the opposite end and flashed across his shields, draining them completely, but Johansen reached the safety of the end of the hall. Williams returned fire, until his rifle was empty and he in turn sprinted down the hall.
Once around the corner and out of danger, the two Marines began running full speed to the next security point, manned by more Marines. Hopefully there, behind prepared barricades, they could halt the Brutes' advance, or at least slow them enough to allow the Spartans to arrive and combat the invaders.
The Brutes howled and ran after the Marines, easily closing the distance. Williams and Johansen put every ounce of will into making it to the next security detail, but the rapidity of the Brutes' advance made it clear there would be no escape. Williams could practically feel the Brute on his back and was resigning himself to his fate when an act of god occurred.
Williams' world turned upside down as some unseen force hurled him from the Brute's path. He cried out in surprise as the Brute skidded to a stop, equally confused. The Brute was suddenly lifted from its feet and straight into the air. Its arms and legs lashed out, smashing dents into the walls and ceiling, a testament to the Brute's pure strength.
Before it could find purchase on its attacker, the Brute was torn in twain. Armor plates at the hip strained and warped as the body was ripped in half. A last death rattle rolled off the Brute's tongue as its partner stared in astonishment and fear.
But that Brute would not go down without a fight, and lunged forward at where he thought the invisible attacker would be. The Covenant warrior was rewarded with a loud thump of armor on armor and the substance of some invisible assailant.
The Brute threw his arms around the ghost and squeezed, putting his anger and rage into the effort. Monstrous biceps tensed and flexed, seeking to destroy whatever it was that they held. This Brute, a dealer of death and destruction, was unaccustomed to being unable to destroy whatever it held. For seconds it strained, as the two Marines watched in amazement. Blood vessels burst inside its neck as the Brute put forth its maximum effort.
But before any sign of a kill manifested, the invisible warrior smashed down onto the Brute's head and completely pulverized the rock hard skull and brain. The body of the Brute seemed unwilling to release its prey, but never the less, slumped to the deck when the phantom pushed it away.
Williams and Johansen peered into the darkness, vainly trying to catch a glimpse of their savior. A hauntingly vacant voice pierced the pseudo night and floated to them from farther down the hall.
"Semper Fi Marines... We'll take care of these animals..."
Master Chief and the Blue team Spartans jumped back aboard the Hornet inside their training room, knowing it would be clear still. They immediately began moving to the bridge while the Chief opened a link to the Admiral.
"Admiral Cole, we are aboard and approaching the bridge. What is the situation?"
"Chief, the Brutes have been neutralized. The Marine security detail was able to beat them back and destroy them in the landing bay. We have captured the Covenant shuttle and teams are in the process of securing the ship."
John was startled to hear that the Marines had managed to beat back a Covenant boarding party, and stood motionless in front of the Admiral. Then before he had fully comprehended what had happened, a voice called out across the deck.
"Thank you Master Chief, for you quick response. But fortunately for us, our own Marines were able to repel the boarders. You may return to your planetside operations and can also expect some, well... Marine support."
Colonel Ackerson stepped forward from some dark recessed spot on the bridge and smirked at the Master Chief. The Master Chief regarded him for a moment before snapping to attention and saluting the Admiral. Cole returned his gesture and the Chief about faced and marched off the bridge.
Once out of the bridge vicinity, Cortana whispered conspiratorially in the Master Chief's ear.
Don't worry Chief, I'll soon find out what he was up to...