A Delay in Plans
"… and so, when Ruyap wasn't paying attention, the food nipple squirted out blueberry goodness all over his face!" Nuyac laughed hysterically while slapping his knee in amusement. While still laughing at the story, he glanced up at the elite next to him expecting to hear additional laughter. However, all he got back in return was a cold look. Nuyac's laughter died down and he faced himself back towards the hallway. After removing his glance from the elite, the grunt carried on again, laughing heartily at the story that quite possibly could only amuse his own kin.
Trying to ignore the grunt's foolish joke, Oja Ferrunee focused on the patrol. He didn't understand why he was stuck on the graveyard shift patrol and didn't understand what angered his superiors enough to pair him up with this grunt. He rubbed the bandage on his wounded arm, deep in thought. The rapid progress of healing was undoubtedly due to that cold ointment that the human sergeant had applied much earlier in the day.
Swimming around in his already busy mind was the progression of the war against the humans. He was new soldier in what the Sangheili called the Trephalee, or 'Prophet's Army.' It was composed of fellow elites and of the other castes of Covenant society. The blue armor still sparkled with the quality only found from fresh factory manufacture. The Elite military training facility was separate of the others. Exclusive training made the elites extremely efficient to train, but was also cause for much of their arrogance towards soldiers of other races. During the cycle and a half of training, virtues of loyalty, obedience, but most importantly, honor, were all drilled into his skull. They nearly went hand and hand with absolute law, but only after half a cycle of being a certified soldier, he was told to cease fire against the humans. To stand in the presence of humans with meaning of peace was baffling, but he was to obey his superiors. He didn't mention it to anyone else, but he was actually rather impressed with their stubbornness and resourcefulness in the face of complete defeat. Watching the battle-hardened human Sergeant walk around with pride and strength was enough to carry on the image. He respected that and deep down and wished to fight alongside such a soldier.
Oja snapped back to reality and saw that Nuyac was still laughing to himself and wandering off ahead of him.
"Get back over here," he barked.
The ever cheerful grunt turned around, gave a high pitched bark, and then fell back to the elite.
All grunts, ever since the grunt rebellion, were forced to treat the elites as nothing less than Gods. It was a position that many elites took advantage of and that many grunts greatly resented. However, in the case of Nuyac and Oja Ferrunee, there were subtle hints of friendship between the two. Notable changes in their behaviors appear when they were separated. There was an obvious bond formed between the two during their pairing during the last half cycle. Although such a relationship was normally looked down upon, Oja's superior, Field Major Tal Victoree, began to notice improved military performance between elites and grunts with a shared sense of camaraderie. As a result, Oja and Nuyac were allowed to stick together.
Although Oja and Nuyac were assigned to the graveyard shift on the Faithful Blessing's secondary supply chamber, there was heightened importance on this particular task. Motion sensors in this rarely accessed sector warned of movement and two grunts had disappeared in the vicinity. Motion sensors were acting screwy in other desolate sections of the ship but further analysis leaded towards equipment malfunction. Although it seemed like there was a problem with the equipment, the Arbiter ordered that nothing be overlooked. Not particularly concerned with the loss of a few grunts, it did make the Arbiter suspicious to that particular area of the ship. Lacking the man-power to send a whole fire team, Oja and Nuyac were sent to check it out while he joined the demon in search of the ark.
Oja and Nuyac came up to the entry door and Oja fluidly punched in the access code on a data pad inserted into the side of the door. The data pad beeped several times and the door hissed open.
Nuyac pulled the plasma pistol out of his weapons belt. The new weapon came to life and the tiny display on its backside read '100'. He looked up to Oja and said, "Your Excellency, are you ready?"
Oja activated both of his plasma rifles and adjusted his shielding to full strength. He glanced back down towards the grunt and nodded. "Let's get this over with."
The duo cautiously walked into the nearly empty storage chamber. Surprisingly, even with the civil war in full effort and with previous brute command of the ship, the room actually looked quite spacious with the lack of supply crates. Under similar circumstances, the room should have been packed with supplies. A half-dozen stood stacked in the middle under dim lighting. Oja instantly disliked the environment as the normally well lit areas of the ship were not observable in this particular room. Many of the lights did not work and long shadows extended from nearly every corner of the room.
Instinctively walking towards the lit central area, Oja quickly glanced to every part of the room. He didn't see anything, yet.
The tiny hairs on the back of Nuyac's neck began to stand after a few seconds. He pulled down the trigger on his plasma pistol and let it overcharge. As the ball of plasma began to grow, the weapon became slightly unstable and the grunt had to use both hands to get control.
The sounds of tendrils moving across a moist surface were covered up by the gentle hum of Nuyac's charged plasma pistol. An infectious flood form sensed the presence of the food and an overwhelming hunger began to sweep over it. They had been hiding for hours, painstakingly patient, waiting for an opportunity to strike. As the large spacecraft hovered over the great fortress-world, the infection forms had quickly sneaked aboard the gravity lift. There were only two guards, and although they were much larger than previous pray, they fell just the same. With the guard down, hundreds swarmed aboard. Soon after they came, hundreds of elites swarmed onto the craft and battles raged throughout the ship. It was no time to attack; they would be gunned down in battle. But now, secretly hiding and the time to strike quickly coming, they'd take ship and give their master a great prize… Earth. Hiding in the suffering confines of hunger and darkness, the infection forms watched two creatures go towards the center of the room.
"Me had a bad feeling about this," Nuyac nervously said.
"Quiet," Oja ordered. He quickly glanced at the grunt and saw him nervously glancing around in a circle expecting an enemy to come from all sides. "Stay alert, nothing is wrong, we'll be fine."
He couldn't believe he was consoling a fellow soldier, and the fact that it was a grunt seemed to add insult to injury. But inside, he felt calmer himself and Nuyac noticeably improved himself.
Suddenly, something felt wrong – very wrong. Oja felt the threat of danger quickly rising and he crouched into a battle position aiming his weapons into the darkness.
The infection form know the time had come. It rushed ahead while the elite's back was facing it. Ten meters away, it prepared to jump and inject its small needlelike projection into the hapless victim's spine, paralyzing it and subjecting it to the new authority.
Nuyac let out a startled cry and saw a wave of darkness quickly moving in towards them. Oja's acute hearing rapidly picked up the grunt's cry of the sound and as he turned around, his peripheral vision caught the movement. He roared in rage and blasted the first wave of squid like flood forms to ash with this duel plasma rifles.
The dark wave kept coming. Oja Ferrunee, tributed by his name, had nerves of iron. He gritted his mandibles together and gave his plasma rifles the half second needed to discharge some of its heat and proceeded to vaporize and melt the remaining infection forms.
Nuyac uncovered his eyes. It had seemed like an eternity and he shyly peaked around. The dark shadows stopped moving and Oja was breathing very deeply. He could see the adrenaline surge through the elite's blood. It was the battle state that made elites so incredibly deadly.
All Nuyac heard for several seconds was a dull hum. He realized that his plasma pistol was still overcharged and was on the brink of melting. The magnetic field containing the supercharged plasma was waning. Before the grunt could plan his next action, the sound of heavy footsteps could be heard approaching. To the sheer horror and disbelief of Oja and Nuyac, a doorway burst open from the shadows. A banshee like wail thundered into their ears and towering black forms rushed towards them.
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Spartan 117 slowly opened his eyes and felt the groggy sensation of waking up after a deep sleep. He shook his head to remove the sleepiness and realized that his body was on the floor, back down.
John then felt the icy cool presence of Cortana flow through his suit's integrated computer network and move into his own head. "Can you believe what just happened? The forerunner, halo, the flood … everything was explained to us. I had found hints of these events from the data I downloaded back on Alpha Halo, but it would take me days to process it all. Scanners report that this experience was mere minutes long."
"Feels like coming out of cryo," John simply replied.
He stood up as the rest of the patrol began to pull themselves back to reality. Mutterings of coffee and caffeine came from marines. A few grunts began to chatter about something called 'Tupine' but the elites remained quiet and simply pulled themselves off of the ground.
The Arbiter never had to worry about going into a cryo tube for slipspace travel. Even for the longer jumps, his ships could easily cross the distance in several days thanks to the far more advanced slipspace generators. Human slipspace generators, Shaw-Fujikawa generators, were assigned to every UNSC capital ship. They tore a hole into the slipspace stream and forced the ship to enter. This brutish entry was widely believed to hinder the ease of the ship from traveling smoothly throughout this alternate realm. Covenant slipspace drives, however, had been able to make pinpoint and comparatively quick slipspace jumps due to their tiny insertion into slipspace. Their entry into this alternate physical realm was done much smoother and much more efficiently.
As he shook the odd but tiring feeling out of his body, his eyes caught the reflection of light off a smooth surface on the glowing white pedestal. They seemed to draw him in and although he couldn't put his finger on them, they looked oddly familiar to something he'd heard of in the past.
The Master Chief looked over his left shoulder and saw the Arbiter glancing towards the white pedestal in the center of the room, too. He decided to walk over to the elite and see what was drawing their combined attention. As he approached, John noticed five diamond like stones laying upon the bright, white surface.
"What do you believe these relics are?" inquired the Arbiter. There was a noticeable tone of awe in his voice. It was apparent that the encounter with the forerunners in the ark made a deep and profound impression on him.
John shrugged his shoulders in response and asked Cortana the same thing. Carefully reaching into the white beams of light, the Spartan gently picked up one of the ornately engraved stones and allowed Cortana to analyze it.
"Hmmm, let me see. Hang on, I think the carvings on the stones look remotely familiar."
John had also caught words on the tip of his tongue. The stones did look strangely familiar, but from where?
Suddenly he had it. During his mission to Cote d'Azur all the way back on the Sigma Octanus system, he remembered the mission to find out why the Covenant had taken the city rather than glassing it over. His small infiltration team had made it into the city sewers and quickly arrived to the museum. Inside, after defeating two hunters, the Spartans captured a piece of granite with intricate symbols on it. It turned out to be an ancient star chart, and one of several others inevitably found with coordinates to Reach, Alpha Halo, and Earth. That's what the five rocks were laying before him. They were ancient relics of forerunner star charts. Not the only question was, where did they lead to?
"Chief, they appear to be star coordinates. If they have anything to do with data I collected in Halo's computer network, I'd say that these stones give the directions to the other five halos," said Cortana mechanically.
Guilty Spark hummed above their heads. "It appears that my creators want you to deal with the fortress worlds. Their studies have come to an end and there is no longer any purpose for them to exist. The flood inhabiting them must be eliminated now. Activation of the structures is unacceptable. We will journey to them, and I shall show you the way."
"They must want us to destroy them like we did with the others to kill the flood whom are still on them," John surmised.
The Arbiter looked at the Master Chief and said surprisingly, "You wish to destroy the other five sacred rings?"
Half Jaw overhead the conversation and joined in. "Surely, the sacred rings, the objects we worked so hard to protect. There must be a way to preserve them."
On the Chief's speakers, Cortana answered both of their questions at once. "Remember what the rings were designed to do. Study the flood, and ultimately destroy their food if there came the need. You must remove the idea of these rings being sacred relics. They hold the key to our annihilation and if we don't do this, the whole galaxy is at risk!"
The Arbiter shook his head. There had to be a way. Unfortunately, he had already destroyed Delta Halo when he detonated the anti-matter bomb on High Charity. He did not wish to be responsible for the destruction for the other five. "We will not hastily jump to conclusions. There is still time to think of another way."
Guily Spark turned towards the elite and answered with a tone of forewarning, "Very well, you are correct. But we can not dawdle on the issue least the outbreak becomes too widespread to contain. There are flood outside of the halos and we need to consider every possible risk to prevent a planet wide outbreak. If that happens, all is lost."
The Arbiter knew the oracle was right, but there had to be some other way.
As he took a moment to think about another solution, his headset crackled to life. The miles of dirt and rock hampered with the signal, but the Arbiter could still clearly hear the transmission.
"Arbiter! The vile flood has infiltrated the ship! They're attacking the bridge and …" the voice of the elite ended and the Arbiter could hear a massive explosion. As the ringing in his ears died down, the battle cries of several elites rang above the din followed by this hissing of plasma swords coming to life. The tortured cries of flood combat forms mingled with the sounds of the elites. As suddenly as it had come, his transmission ended. All he heard was dead static.
Shock and rage on his face, he demanded to Commander Keyes who was checking the status of her marines, "Commander, are those vehicles still outside?"
Hearing the urgency in his voice, she immediately answered, "Yes, they're ready for immediate evac."
The Arbiter glanced towards Half Jaw and ordered, "Come with me! The flood has spread their vile presence onto the Faithful Blessing. They will not be allowed to leave the ship!"
Keyes and Johnson's eyes lit up at the news. She quickly ordered, "Johnson, Chief, come with me now! Johnson, grab our best marines. We must get to the surface now!"
"Edwards, Perez, Williamson, Martin, mount up!" Johnson barked. "The rest of you hillbillies, double time it to the surface. Last one up gets fed to the Flood alive!"
The command room inside the ark was a flurry of activity. Marines, elites, grunts, and a few hunters all started running out of the chamber. John quickly grabbed the four other stones and put them carefully into his supply pouches. Turning, he sprinted out of the door towards the warthogs. In seconds, the large chamber was nearly empty. With the dim glow of the white pedestal, one figure could be seen walking the other way. His white lab coat giving away his presence, Adam Mitchell continued to move towards what seemed to be solid wall.
While group were fixated on the five stones in the middle of the room, Adam had quietly sneaked over to the far side of the room. As they all rapidly left, no one noticed that Adam went the other way.
With his nose centimeters from solid stone, he pilled out a small scalpel from his lab coat pocket. He made a small but deep cut on his index finger and let the blood run. As he pressed his blood soaked finger on the wall, a golden symbol began to appear from the previously bare stone wall. He instinctively withdrew his finger and grimaced as a burning sting passed through his arm. Looking at his burnt finger, Adam noticed that it had been fused shut and was no longer bleeding. The golden symbol faded and disappeared. In its place doorway appeared as wall of rock a meter thick simply vanished. The forerunner scientist disappeared into the dark pathway beyond.
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Oja squeezed the triggers on his duel plasma rifles and the superheated bursts burned through rotting flesh. The foremost combat form took the full brunt of the energy weapons and they rapidly incinerated the outermost layers of skin and muscle. Its chest cavity melted under the heat and the infection form inside of the body was burned into ash. As the dead hulk of mass tumbled to the ground, its body sizzled of hot fat and muscle and the stench of burnt flesh made it to Oja's nose.
The combat form to the right of the first crashed to the ground a millisecond later as Nuyac's super charged pistol discharged. Whether it was a feat of skill or complete luck, no one will ever know, but large ball of charged plasma impacted directly upon the chest. As the creature fell, Nuyac saw foot deep cavity of liquefied skin pour out of its chest.
Oja was tempted to openly congratulate the grunt, another action that was normally looked down upon, but he didn't have a change. A third combat form continued its charge towards the elite and he smoothly transferred the pounding avalanche of plasma towards the next threat. Several bursts of plasma impacted its shoulder, but it wasn't enough to deliver the killing blow.
With the trait of inexperience, Oja didn't even notice that his plasma rifle was glowing red with heat. The shielding around his hands was weakened to allow for easier gripping the the weapons. Normally advantageous, the weak shielding was unable to hold off the weapon's heat for very long. Oja's hands burst of fire and the elite instinctively dropped them as pain surged through his burnt hands.
As he looked up, he saw the huge combat form lung at him. The whip like extensions on its far arm smashed into his chest and he saw his body shielding flash to life. Even with fully powered body shields, they were not strong enough to take the brunt of the attack. The momentum of the attack sent the elite flying backwards several meters and the whip-like extensions sent gashes across the brand new chest plate. The elite crashed into the stack of supply crates, tumbling on top of him.
Oja saw it all happen like a flash of light and it took him a moment to get back his bearings. He couldn't move and for a moment he though he was dead. However, as his vision came back, he saw that he was pinned down by several heavy supply crates. As he took a deep breath, he felt a knife lance into his chest. He knew that several of his ribs were broken. He heard the victorious cry of the combat form and winced at the though of being food for such a vile beast. His blurred vision caught the outline of the flood form and he saw it approach.
The combat form pressed its diseased foot upon the supply crate on Oja's chest and it leaned towards him. Although the elite couldn't identify where the sound came from, it didn't matter. From some opening in its body, the combat form uttered a cry so terrible that the elite's mental consciousness was completely swept over by sheer terror. All of his training didn't even matter as his brain registered the terrible wail. If he wasn't pinned down, the elite would have fled as fast as his legs could have physically carried him.
Oja struggled against the fear and collapsed back down from the unbearable pain his chest. He closed his eyes and prepared for the fate worse than death. With his last moments of life, he muttered a prayer to his ancestors for protection.
Someone must have been listening, because Oja heard a high pitched cry, "Down in front!"
The pressure on his chest lightened and Oja saw the combat form turn its attention towards Nuyac. As it turned and rushed towards the grunt, Oja saw something glowing in its back. Nuyac saw the great smasher of elites coming at him and ran in the opposite direction. He didn't know if his plasma grenade hit the beast, but he didn't care. It was time to hi-tail it out of there and as he turned, he screamed, "Little people first!"
No sooner than he had taken three steps, he felt a wave of energy surge past him sending his body tumbling forwards. Sticky green goo plastered his body and he turned to see that all that remained of the combat form was a pair of charred legs. Green guts covered everything around him and if the grunt could have had any one thing at that moment, it would have been a shower.
Picking himself up, he shook off much of the gore on his body and looked around for Oja. His hopes dropped when after a quick scan of the area, he saw nothing. The he heard the groan and saw the elite's legs sticking out of the pile of fallen supply crates. He rushed over to the mess and saw the elite's pained face.
"Get this thing off me," Oja said painfully.
Not needing to reply, the grunt positioned himself near the crate and heaved with all of his might. Although he wasn't strong enough to lift the object on his own, the combined effort gave enough muscle to slide it off of Oja's chest.
Oja Ferrunee pulled himself to his feet and coughed up a mouthful of blood. It spattered to the ground and he wiped his mandibles with his hands. The pain in his chest was still there, but subsided with the enormous weight of the crates off his chest.
The elite looked down at the grunt. Nuyac returned the look and he held out a 'thumbs up.' "We make good team," he enthusiastically commented.
Oja nodded. "Yes, yes we do." Before he broke the grunt's eye contact, he said something not said to a grunt in many, many millennia. "Thanks."
Nuyac stood still as its brain attempted to register for a fact what it just heard. Oja, however, didn't sit on the issue and he began to investigate the mess of toppled supply crates. One had toppled over behind them and had opened up. To his surprise, he saw some weapons scattered on the ground. He picked them both up and returned to Nuyac.
"Here, take this," Oja ordered as he handed the grunt one of the weapons.
Grunts were known to be very primitive creatures by comparative standards to elites. Their thought process was slower; they were smaller, and basically inferior in almost every quality. However, even though mentally and physically less developed than their elite counterparts, they did have one common quality. They loved explosions. The bigger, the better. Elites tried to suppress their joys of such things in an attempt to preserve the quality of sophistication, but they too enjoyed using heavy weapons and watching the resulting action.
Nuyac's eyes widened with joy as he grasped the fuel rod cannon. It had a full clip of six shots and plenty of spare rounds. He gratefully wielded the weapon and noticed the weapon in Oja's burnt hand. It was a plasma sword. Even grunts knew that a blue elite did not have the rank nor the training to use such a weapon. Although perfectly able to use it, Nuyac knew that not only would Oja lack any real skill, but he might be punished by his superiors for stepping between rank privileges. Circumstances were anything but ordinary, however, and the grunt did not question his partner's actions.
They raced out of the storage chamber and heard the echoing of battle throughout the ship. Oja couldn't run at full speed with Nuyac toting the heavy weapon, but somehow, the grunt managed to move at a fairly rapid pace. They rounded several corners and heard the sounds of battle coming from the primary medical facility. Oja knew that there were dozens of wounded elites and grunts in there from the battles earlier against the brutes. It saddened his heart to think of them all succumbing to the flood. Fueled by their hate for the flood, the duo raced through the doorway.
The sight sickened them the second they jumped in. Green, infected blood coated the walls and the room reeked of death and decay. However, two blue armored elites and a pair of grunts were attempting to take the room back. They opened plasma fire upon flood combat forms who returned fire with similar weapons. Several bolts of plasma hit the shielding of an elite and he ducked into cover to let them re-charge. A grunt, however, was not so lucky and took a hit in the face. Its face mask melted away inhibiting its ability to breath. With severe burns on its face, it died in vain gasping for air.
Nuyac saw his comrade fall and barked in rage. He took aim with his fuel rod cannon. A great yellow-green bolt of energy slammed into a pack of three elite combat forms. They disintegrated as the energy washed over them. Identifying the new threat, the remaining flood forms shrieked in pleasure at the sight of more food. They opened fire on the two. Nuyac ducked behind a surgical table and Oja leapt towards the nearest flood form. With surprising grace, he snapped the plasma sword to life with a flick of his wrist while still in mid air. The flood form dropped its plasma pistol and prepared a crushing blow for the charging elite.
Although Oja displayed amazing skill in the first part of his attack, the surprising weight of the active sword caused his decent to fall off balance and as he lunched his sword forward, he missed the combat form's body. Oja grimaced as he fell to the ground with a hard thud several feet to the right of the combat form. The plasma sword jarred out of his injured hand and deactivated as it skidded on the floor. Oja noticed with a slight sense of satisfaction as the flood form's whipped arm fall to the floor as well.
The combat form lurched forward and prepared to slam its other fist into the elite. Oja quickly rolled away from the assault and heard the combat forms' rotting fist shatter as it impacted the metal floor. It roared in surprise realizing that its pray had escaped.
Oja reached out and grasped the plasma sword and reactivated it. With a balanced and smooth stroke, he cut the flood form directly through the chest. A searing gash crossed through numerous organs, muscle, and flesh. The infection form inside of its chest also fell across the path of the plasma blade and it melted under the heat of the weapon. The infected elite collapsed to the ground and Oja quickly nodded as its soul was finally able to join his ancestors.
Two more blasts caught Oja's attention and he saw two shots from Nuyac's fuel rod cannon obliterate another group of combat forms. One of the blue elites hurled a plasma grenade forward and its detonation finished off the rest of the flood forms.
Oja held onto his plasma sword and was amazed by the grace and fluidity of its movement. He understood why only the higher ranked elites used such a weapon and the careful demands to balance, weight, and discipline that were needed to use it effectively. Although it was heavy, almost similar in mass to a grunt, it conformed to his fingers with surprising ease. It was truly a remarkable weapon.
The two elites strode over to Oja. The first one shook his head in disbelief and said, "It's an insult that these beasts snuck into the Faithful Blessing and it's even worse that they took several dozen of our brethren with them." He nodded towards the rows of surgical tables which were covered with the rotting entrails of the flood.
Oja asked in reply, "There were few here. Tell me, where did the rest go?"
"The majority made off towards the bridge. We caught the remaining ones here and destroyed them with your assistance," the second elite answered.
Oja nodded, started towards the doorway and said with authority, "Then it's to the bridge me must go. We will gain control of it and burn any flood in our path!"
The two other elites tightened their plasma rifles and growled their war cries before followed Oja Ferrunee.
As the elites neared the door, they saw Nuyac the three other grunts kneeling over their fallen comrade.
Oja spoke out, "Come. There will be a time to give our respect to the fallen, but we have a job to do."
Nuyac and the other grunts nodded, picked up their weapons, and followed the elites out of the door.
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Spartan 117 ran over to the nearest warthog and barked out an order to surrender the vehicles. The marines on station obediently followed the command. John hoped into the driver's seat, Commander Keyes sat in the passenger seat and Sergeant Johnson manned the powerful M41 LAAG in the back. The Chief slammed his foot on the accelerator and whipped the vehicle in a quick 180 degree turn. As he began to speed off towards the tunnel, he saw through the rear mirror the other five warthogs speeding in his direction. Three were manned by the Arbiter and his elites and the other two had the best marines Johnson could find.
As John's warthog sped up the curved incline, Johnson shouted aloud, "I'll be damned if those squiddy bastards ever make it to the surface. They're going to find out what happens when you pick a fight with the human race."
The other marines heard Johnson's comment on the COMM channel and shouted in unison, "Hoo-rah!"
The Spartan's comm. system, however, was channeled to be exclusively between Cortana and John. He kept his full attention on the road while listening to the Smart AI.
"Chief, hurry as much as you can! My demographic readouts report that there are major metropolitan areas only one hundred miles away – twenty miles away if New Mombosa was still standing. If even one flood form gets to one of these cities, we're talking about a pandemic!"
"Relax, I know what we're up against," John replied smoothly. Although he spoke the words, he didn't necessarily believe them himself. But John had never lost before, and he was reassured himself that he'd win at this mission, too.
Cortana continued as if the Spartan hadn't even said anything, "And if a city falls, I don't think the garrison at Diego Garcia will be able to contain it. It'd spread to more and more cities. Such an event could be the final demise of humanity."
John know that what she spoke of was the truth, but he wasn't going to see such a thing happen as long as there was an ounce of life left in his body. He'd been trained at the age of six to protect his people and he wasn't about ready to stop what he did best.
Amid the roar of the engines, Commander Keyes shouted out, "Chief, drop me off at the command post near-by. I need to radio in for backup. We're going to need an army of marines here to do a thorough sweep of the area."
Keeping both eyes on the winding path before him, the Spartan obediently answered, "Yes 'mam."
At full throttle speeds of about one hundred kilometers per hour, John knew that he and his fellow Spartans could sprint short distances at just under this speed. However, normal marines couldn't, and from what he'd seen on the battlefield, elites were a bit slower than them, too. Their hoofed, horse like feet did allow them for quick bursts of speed, but their adaptive traits were focused more around being able to stabilize and control their great size and power. The hard, steel like muscles and iron hard bones accomplished nearly the same thing as the Spartan's bodily augmentations and the MJOLNER armor combined. Without them, their bones would shatter and muscles would tear as the body attempted to control the swift and powerful motions.
At full speed, it took less than a minute to reach the surface. The warthog kicked dirt in the air as it sped along the freshly dug ground. John's warthog had a slight head start on the others and his superior driving skills gave him about ten seconds of extra time. He jerked the steering wheel hard to the left and grabbed the emergency break. The vehicle lurched in a one hundred and twenty degree turn as the back wheels flew out behind them nearly sending Sergeant Johnson flying off of the mounted turret.
"Goddamn chief. Who the hell taught you how to drive?" Johnson shouted.
John ignored the sergeant and slammed his foot back on the accelerator. Johnson had to wrap his arms around the LAAG just to survive the sheer inertia of the maneuver. He grumbled something under his breath but no one heard it over the roar of the engine.
With the engine at full speed, John made the quick short cut to the command post. Fortunately, it was only a few hundred meters from the gravity lift giving the Spartan plenty of time to cycle back. As he brought the warthog to a sudden halt, Commander Keyes leapt off of the vehicle and ran over to one of the many large tents.
John turned the wheel and slammed his foot on the gas again. The warthog kicked up dirt and grass as it spun around and he gunned it towards the gravity lift.
The other five warthogs arrived just as John pulled in. Jumping out of the vehicle, he ran over to the gravity lift where six elites and a dozen grunts stood waiting.
The Arbiter nodded to the elites standing guard and he spoke to the humans in a hurried voice, "Standard flood control. Nothing gets off this ship alive." He looked at the Master Chief. "Ready?"
"Born ready," the Spartan coolly replied.
The Covenant guards remained at their post while the Arbiter, Half-Jaw, John, Johnson, and the rest of their soldiers stepped under the gravity lift. As the anti-gravity beams picked up on their physical bodies, they were rapidly whisked into the belly of the ship.
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Lieutenant Adam Mitchell felt his legs walking swiftly though the inky blackness. He held his hand directly up to his face but he couldn't see a thing. For some unexplainable reason, he knew where he was going, and the darkness wasn't inhibiting his movement in the least. He coursed back through his memories but couldn't remember ever being in such a place. As he questioned what was going on, the voice came back.
"We are almost there," it said calmly.
Adam paused his thoughts and took a moment to formulate his thoughts. "I should have figured you were the one guiding me," he finally said.
"Tell me, you remember nothing similar to this?" the voice inquired.
Adam continued to feel his legs moving, almost against his own will, and he dug deep into his mind to find any remote recollection of a similar experience. He shifted through childhood memories. He remembered asking his mother to check under the bed and in the closet for the boogieman at the age of four. He remembered his first day of kindergarten and being able to read, write, and perform arithmetic amid the surprised expressions of his teacher. The memories shifted to his ninth birthday when he received notification that he'd be going to a special academy for the gifted. Then he remembered the day in the city street when he was six, the metal beam that nearly crushed him, and his first encounter with the voices. Later that night, he was all alone in his room when the power went out. The night was pitch black and without electricity, the house was also filled with the darkness. Adam remembered being terrified, but somehow, he knew where to go to get the flashlights.
"You mean that time in the house when I was six and still managed to walk around amid the darkness?" Adam finally said to the voice.
"Yes, I'm glad you remember. Your eyes are a wonderful thing, but when they fail, you'll find that you don't need them," it said softly.
"But why is that?" Adam didn't know where the voice was going with the conversation.
"Son, Forerunners were able to understand an enormous amount of the universe, but their knowledge was only a grain of sand on a beach."
Adam was stunned to hear that statement. "And our present understanding is the equivalent to the same metaphor compared to you."
"Yes, but that is besides the point. What you must understand is that there are mysterious forces in the universe that we do not even understand. We built humble temples to show our respect to these forces, but they were nothing to the ones we discovered like the one you humans discovered on Reach. Our ancient myths pointed to a divine being, similar to your so called Christian God." The voice paused before continuing. "These structures had arcane symbols sketched onto them. They were activated by blood, but it had to be forerunner blood and not simply that of a simple animal. We believe it's a testament of sacrifice to the great beings around us all."
"Wait, wait a moment," Adam interjected. "Then how did they get into the temple on Reach?"
"Dr. Halsey's Spartans were selected based on favorable genetic combinations. Ironically, each individual had very rare sets of alleles in their DNA which are identical to enhanced human forerunner DNA. However, since humanity as you know it is descendant of our race, any human would be able to activate the symbols."
It made sense to the Lieutenant, but the voice still didn't explain what he was doing in the dark and winding passageways. As if answering the question, Adam's legs stopped moving. The darkness around him began to disappear and golden symbols began to illuminate the tunnel around him. The rock tunnel was thick enough for two men to walk through side by side and the ceiling was about eight feet from the ground. The surface Adam stood on was made of a strange blue tile like substance that neither felt too rough or too slippery.
"We noticed this passageway one hundred thousand years ago, but we could not open it. We believed that only the chosen one, one with the will of the Gods could enter. We now believe that this person is you."
The arcane symbols glowed so brightly that Adam had to shield his eyes. He covered eyes to protect himself from the harsh glare and as soon as he removed them, darkness surrounded him once again. However, a doorway had opened before him and an inclined platform the size of a Spartan glowed under a single unknown light.
The voice returned. "Walk over to the table and lean back on it."
Adam did as he was told. As his back hit the cool stone surface, he felt his body fuse to it. Like iron being held by a powerful magnet, Adam found that he could not lift himself from the stable he was leaning against.
"What is this trickery?" he cried out.
The voice replied soothingly, "Relax. Specific genes in your DNA will now be expressed. Your body will undergo a painful but necessary progression. You have a long and important task set in front of you. If you fail, humanity, covenant, and the forerunner will be wiped clean of this universe never to return. You have been specifically chosen and we've done everything we could do to help you. But now you must relax and rest."
Adam took a deep breath and exhaled. He closed his eyes and attempted to think happy thoughts. However, he suddenly felt intolerable pain streak though every inch of his body. He gritted his teeth together and fought, but it was too great. His eyes darkened and consciousness left his body.
The last thing he heard was the voice say, "Spartan 117 has an important fate himself and we'll help him with it, but without your help, the universe will be doomed."
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John's eyes immediately adjusted to the familiar lighting of the interior of the ship. The sounds of battle were all around and the ship seemed to shake with each passing explosion. Green blood and guts lay scattered all over the floor as flood forms met their demise from the automated defenses on the upper walls. They were most likely seeking an escape from the ship. He waved his arm forward, "Alright, lets move out."
The Arbiter pointed to a doorway in the far corner of the huge room. "This is the quickest way to the bridge."
The elite raced over to the door and slid his palm onto an identification pad. A microscopic needle poked his finger and ran a DNA analysis. It confirmed the DNA with that on record and the door slid open.
"Chief, put me in that computer terminal!" Cortana urgently requested. The Spartan moved next to the Arbiter. Removing the microchip from his helmet, he inserted it into the computer terminal. He felt the icy presence leave his mind as he removed Cortana and she appeared moments later from a holo pad. "I'm integrating with the ship's network. I'll make sure that they don't get complete control of it."
John nodded and followed the elites through the opened doorway. He kept his newly acquired energy rifle tight in his arms and prepared to join the fight against the flood.
As they rounded the corner, Half-Jaw nearly ran face first into a carrier flood form. The spec-ops elite knew how they functioned and he leapt back just as the flood form attempted to topple on top of him. The carrier form exploded and sent a half dozen infection forms flying towards them. The Arbiter and his elites opened fire with their plasma rifles and flash-fried them all before they had an opportunity to attack.
They pressed forward and passed through another security locked door. As the two halves parted, the boarding party saw two blue armored elites fall to an incoming avalanche of plasma fire. They shouted cries of pain before they were torn apart by over a dozen combat forms.
It was an act too heinous for words. John shouldered his weapon and fired. The pulse of yellow light streaked at the mass of flood and the explosion detonated in the middle of the pack. They didn't even have an opportunity to cry out as they were torn apart. Limbs smashed against the walls with bone shattering force.
About ready to move forward, dozens more raced to the scene. The hallways crawled with infection and combat forms and they all charged the newly arrived elites and humans with hunger driven alacrity.
Plasma bolts flared towards the Spartan and his shielding flashed to life as they absorbed the energy. His HUD flashed red and warnings beeped inside of his helmet signaling low shield strength. The Arbiter, Half-Jaw and several other elites also were forced to absorb plasma energy with their shields.
Suddenly Sergeant Johnson shouted, "Grenades!"
The front row of elites and John instinctively ducked down as seven M9 HE-DP fragmentation grenades flew over their heads. They landed throughout the incoming wave of flood forms and detonated with a resonating boom. Green gore plastered the walls and black smoke filled the hallway before them. With the elites still in a crouching formation, they fired their plasma rifles while the marines opened fire with the BR-55 battle rifles. John included a half dozen bursts of his own weapon. As the ventilation systems cleared up the black smoke, there was nothing left of the flood attackers except for burning arms and legs, and green blood coating the walls like a fresh layer of paint.
The Arbiter rushed ahead and said, "Quickly, the bridge is through the next doorway."
Cortana's voice rang through the hallway speakers. "I thought you'd never ask. I've just unlocked the doors, and I think that they're going to need your help!" The whole party paused for a moment for the comment to register and they pressed forwards towards the door.
Cortana had done her job well, and the normally locked door beeped open as the two halves slid apart. The insides of the bridge looked like a war zone. Elite and flood blood littered the floor and in the far side of the room, a battle was still raging. Surrounded by flood forms, a group of elites and grunts battled against insurmountable odds.
Suddenly, a group of combat forms flew backwards against the force of a large explosion. Through the cleared pathway, a low ranking grunt with a fuel rod cannon was seen reloading the weapon with six more shots. As he performed the task, the rest of the force appeared from behind corners of wall and piles of debris and sprayed the flood with suppressing fire. The combat forms shrieked in rage against the unrelenting will of their food.
Just as the Arbiter gave the command to charge into the battle, a shimmer of bright white light erupted from the chest cavity of an infected elite. It toppled to the ground in pieces and left in its wake a blue armored elite wielding an energy sword. Its body plate had two deep gashes in it and was covered with flood guts and blood, but its eyes glowed with the power of a holy angels smiting a legion of demons.
The elite and human boarding party shouted their war cries and opened fire on the flood. Oja Ferrunee saw the incoming force of allies and saw the tide of the battle turning. He clenched his mandibles together and hued another combat form into thirds with an intricate motion of the sword. The massing body of flood forms to his left quickly disappeared under the power of Nuyac's well aimed fuel rod cannon. With the incoming fire of plasma and battle rifles, and of some weapon he didn't recognize, the once standing fifty combat forms were quickly destroyed.
Oja Ferrunee and Nuyac walked over to the Arbiter along with his newly acquired teammates.
"Arbiter, it's an honor and a relief to see you!" Oja graciously said.
The Arbiter glanced at the battle weary soldiers. "You fought well against the parasite."
Half-Jaw approached Oja and demanded, "What are you doing with a plasma sword? You do realize you're not allowed to wield such a weapon? Explain yourself."
Oja retold his story. His patrol, encounter with the floor, retrieval of the weapons, the battle in the medical wing, the conflict in the bridge, and finished up commenting the brave actions of Nuyac.
Half-Jaw nodded to the Arbiter. Nuyac was too busy scratching in a hard to reach spot by his external gas tank to notice the impressed looks by the soldiers directed to Oja and himself.
As the soldiers began to relax, Cortana's voice rang out again. "I'm picking up hundreds of contacts closing in on this position. I .." she paused for a millisecond. "I don't know where they're all coming from, but there are almost more than I can count. You need to get out of here! I'm making a copy of myself to oversee the overloading of the reactor similar to what I did on the Unyielding Hierophant. You can extract me from the gravity lift."
A mass of red began to fill John's HUD and he, too, realized the severity of the situation. They were going to be overrun and quickly.
The Arbiter realized what was happening and he acted as well. "Come, back to the gravity lift!"
Johnson shouted to his marines, "You heard the elite. Move like your lives depend on it!"
Cortana's voice sounded over the Spartan's speakers, "Copy made, engine core overload in five minutes!"
They all turned and sprinted back the way they came. As the door closed behind them, the bridge instantly filled with a swarm of combat, infection, and carrier forms. They poured from the doorways and raced to catch their fleeing pray.
John hung back to make sure that the slower moving marines and grunts made it to the gravity lift safely. The elites were quicker and waited by the lift with weapons ready as the marines and grunts filtered in. Nuyac, the last in line, exited the door and hopped into the gravity lift with the rest of the team. John lagged behind and grabbed the computer chip out of the computer terminal. He slammed it back into his helmet and instantly felt the cold, watery, feel of Cortana surge back into his mind.
"Chief, lets go! We need to leave!" Cortana shouted.
As John turned to exit, several bursts of plasma fire slammed into his weaker back shielding. He lurched forward and his HUD blared imminent warnings. He backed against the wall and then turned back to face the threat. An incoming wave of combat forms rushed towards him, but intermingled were several bulky carrier forms. John aimed at them and fired two shots of powerful yellow energy.
The shots hammered into the carrier forms causing them to all explode at once. The resulting explosion easily wiped out a line of flood forms ten meters long. This bought him the time he needed. Stepping away from the door, he fired his weapon into the computer terminal. The security fail-safes came into action and the door locked shut. It would be enough to hold the flood forms at bay until the reactors overloaded.
The Spartan leapt onto the gravity lift. As they were all transported to the ground, the Arbiter shouted to him, "The gravity lift will deactivate when we reach the ground. I trust you have an option for extraction."
Answering for the Chief, Cortana spoke out, "That we do. Commander Keyes has a dozen pelicans on the ground with many more on the way. We'll be able to leave and leave quickly before this thing blows."
The answer was good enough for the Arbiter and he nodded in satisfaction. As they touched down, the purple glow of the gravity lift vanished back towards the belly of the ship. The guarding party of elites were waiting for them as they landed.
The Arbiter shouted out to them, "The ship is set to detonate. Move out and load up on the human dropships now!"
They all obeyed and rushed aboard the twelve pelicans on the ground. With the whole group of soldiers loaded, they pelicans fired their engines and blasted off. John watched from one of the pelicans with Sergeant Johnson, the Arbiter, and Half-Jaw as a flash of light overtook the Covenant ship. A roar of fire and light erupted from the small sun as the powerful engines aboard the Faithful Blessing imploded destroying the ship, but also every flood form aboard.
It was tragic to lose the ship, but John felt satisfied that the mission was accomplished and that Earth was once again safe.
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Authors Notes: Sorry again about the delay in this entry. Finals kicked my butt to say the least but I've spent the time off to read the three books and to write this chapter. I edited this once and will edit it a few more times later tonight to work out the bugs. Construction of chapter nine will begin shortly and I hope to get it posted as soon as I can. Thank you for being patient and thanks for reading. I hope you all enjoy! Oh, and Happy New Years!