As night fell, the darkness came to life. The night was filled with predators, and Dakamee was one of them. The seven Sangheili moved like shadows across the rough terrain. Infidel guards were out in pairs, moving about with goggles on their faces. They saw Mort and Fausla, but too late. The Sangheili leapt upon their foes, smashing their weapons into faces, and lashing their garrote beams around the throats of the struggling marines. The humans died quietly, their bodies pulled off into the rocks. As the last throes of life left the bodies of the fallen men, the other five pressed on. The compound was alive with music coming from the barracks. Seemed the humans were celebrating. Pretty soon, the Sangheili would know why. They needed a Master Soldier to answer their questions. They could find one in the battle. Before that could happen, the cannon had to be disabled.
The five Sangheili warriors, led by Miyn, raced into the compound. They fanned out, checking their holy armor, and blessing their weapons. As they reached the cannon's structure, they were addressed. The light was dim, and existed only as a single lamp posted outside the large structure's single exterior entrance. The other ways in must be through the other buildings, thought Lok. His blood raced. The humans did not expect any Covenant to be here. They would soon be surprised.
The human guard noticed the movement in the darkness.
"You there, is that you Josh? A little early to be taking a break..." The guard's voice was agitated. He knew something was wrong. Miyn's keen eyes saw the guard's hand reaching for the alarm on his belt, and his reflexes kicked in. The blue flash of plasma lit up the night, and the guard screamed as his insides melted into soup. Instantly, Lok Dakamee and Shir Mesmee were beside the door, setting grenades. The blast sounded louder than it should have. Alarms went off immediately, echoing in the low valley. The five Sangheili were joined by their other two brothers, and dashed through the MAC gun's open wall, into the shadow of the valley of death.
Colonel Andrew Mush leaned over the table. His throaty laughter mirrored that of the surrounding officers.
"And you say you found it here, on this backwater swamp world! That's amazing! I can't believe these super smart alien bastards left this crap just laying around for us to find! And the Covenant, I thought they'd be all over this like ants at a picnic! What a catch!"
"Well, Colonel, sir, um, yes, it is quite a catch indeed. I, uh, think that, um, yes, it is surprising that the Covenant aren't here. After all, we did find traces of their temples here, but not a single xeno in sight. I don't get why they would leave in such a hurry. Doesn't make sense…" The young scientist was beautiful. There was no doubt about it. The colonel was drunk, no doubt about it. At least everyone was having a good time. The whole crew was here. Half a ship's compliment and all the marines it could spare. They had been here some year or so, but only recently did they need the extra personnel. Before that, there were only a handful of scientists and astropologists, freaks who got off on aliens. At least, that's what the marines thought when they arrived. As soon as the 'artifact' was found, the place was swarming with military personnel. Still was, as a matter of fact.
"Hey Colonel, here comes the lucky man himself!" Sergeant Brandon Bolfoot was a huge guy. He had Broad shoulders, a big chin, huge smile, and dark bushy hair. Bolfoot was big hearted too, until you pissed him off. Then he was big footed, kicking your ass.
"Hello. Sorry I'm late. Long hours and lots of work and all that." Doctor Frederick Nichols had a British accent, and was terribly anti-social.
"Don't worry Doc! After that find, you can make up all the excuses you want! More booze for the rest of us and all!" Private Sean Messin was from an Irish colony. Known for its whiskey and wild pubs. He obviously inherited the traits.
The astropologists were poking around at the Covenant temples, and found a passage down into the caverns they were built over. Inside the caverns was a strange complex, made of towers and a single spherical building. Inside the building they found something that made this the most incredible find humanity has had since the Slipspace Drive. Now, if this scientist and his oriental compatriot, Shingen Mato, could figure out how the thing worked, they would be rich, and humanity might be able to turn the tide in this war.
The scientist sat at one of the three long tables in the large mess hall. They were in the center of the barracks, underground to prevent penetrating missiles, if the Covenant had missiles. Around the mess hall were two sleeping rooms, a training room, and a kitchen. The marines had to eat, and eat they did. This night, food just kept coming out of the kitchen. They had finally determined what it was they found, and that they could figure it out, with enough time that is. Plus, they had just received reinforcements yesterday. It was starting to get crowded. Nearly 500 marines were all crammed into the huge room, with ten or so standing on one of the tables, playing electric instruments and causing a ruckus. The marines loved it, that and the beer. They loved the beer.
"Where's Shingen, Frederick? He usually shows to these things?" Private Ariel had a thing for Shingen. Everyone knew. That is, everyone but Shingen.
"Oh, him? He's still working on that piece we brought back today. Looked kind of like a key or something. He'll join us when he finishes, or apologize in the morning." Dr. Nichols said smoothly as he took a glass of whiskey from a tray on the table. He sipped it slowly and looked at the food piled on the table. "Hmm… dead something, deep fried, with roasted, um, nuts or whatnot… and the delicacy, err, thingy, that sits wobbly in its own tin. We have such wonderful meals here, don't we colonel?"
"Ahh, you complain'in again there scientist boy?! Why don't you pull that scanner outta yer ass, and try to have some fun for once, eh? Cause if you don't, I'll find some way to give you latrine duty, and by the way these boys are puttin' it down, that's goin' to be a pretty ugly job in the mornin'!" The Colonel always had a way with words.
As the officers and scientists chatted, and enjoyed the party, shadows began to move outside. Slowly, they circled in, and one by one the guards fell to their silent enemies. The snake coiled itself around the encampment, preparing to strike.
As the revelry continued, a lone figure entered the large hall. His armor was copper, with a faint shimmering about the edges. The visor was segmented, and glistened in the light. As he entered the room, 400 voices fell quiet. 800 eyes turned and watched as the Spartan II strode into the room, shotgun in the right hand, held by the middle, and rocket launcher slanted lazily over the left shoulder. He stopped, and studied the room.
The Colonel cleared his throat and stood. Bloody Spartans always made him nervous. "Um, Sir, can I, uh, help you?" He knew he was drunk, but the Spartan was obviously paranoid, and anything he could do to keep this guy from breaking up the party would be appreciated.
"I'm fine. Just going for a walk." With that, the Spartan code named Black Angle, turned and went out through one of the exits.
"Um, Sir! That way doesn't lead out! It leads to the MAC gun! Sir!" Private Sean Messin tried to catch up with Black Angle, who turned around sharply and looked right at him.
"I know." And he turned to leave. Sean stood speechless, feeling like the drunken fool he was. He returned to the table and his laughing comrades as the party started back up, everything returning to the way it should be, at least, for the moment.