Jameson Family Bunker, Outside Hidalgo, Blue Sky, Weiran System, 01/21/2526
Vol POV
The bunker shakes once again, flecks of concrete falling from the ceiling and covering everything in the room in a thin gray layer. On queue the lights blink off yet again, plunging the room into darkness.
I tap Yr on the shoulder, "if I may, let's leave before we get crushed."
He ignores my request. Instead looking up at the human screens in front of him, tapping away commands on his armor with a practiced ease. Without appearing like I'm doing so, I walk up next to him and try to glean a bit of information on what he is recording. I can see just enough to see writing, but I can't figure out what he's saying without getting any closer.
I give up after a couple seconds of peering over his shoulder and walk back around the room. Another rumble and another thick layer of dust, I glance back at Yr who seems unfazed.
I walk over to the same table in the middle of the room with the golden flask. I run my fingers along the desk. It's cold to the touch and the coarse dust collects on my fingers, leaving two silver trails on the desk. In a fit of boredom I grab the flask with the same dust covered fingers. It's been obviously used quite a bit with part of the golden surface peeling away revealing a silver frame underneath.
I glance around as if the owner would be hiding nearby. Once I'm certain that no one would care I slip it into a pocket in my armor. I doubt the owner would care much anyways, or if he would even be alive to care.
"Hey, uh," Bahad speaks from behind me. I twist around and see him standing next to the same table, leaning on it slightly to support the weight of the fuel rod cannon, "I wanna say thanks."
I take the hand out from the compartment and shake the dust off of my fingers, "for what?"
"Tryin' to keep me alive," he responds. He shifts as he does so, leaning as the weight of the fuel rod cannon weighs him down.
My mandibles flare in amusement as I give him a half-grin, "of course."
He nods slightly, but doesn't say anything. We stare at each other for an awkward couple of seconds before he speaks up, "I'm not good at this kinda thing," he drawls, "but I wanna let you know, you ain't that bad, for a sangheili at least."
I cross my arms, lean back, and sarcastically reply, "in comparison to what?"
"The obviously superior unggoy race," he deadpans.
"Uh huh."
"Vol!" this time it's Yr who is getting my attention. I nod towards Bahad, ending the conversation with him and jog over to Yr, he continues, "any more information you can acquire here?"
I follow his eyes to the screens. I shrug, "not-likely. If I had more time I might be able to, but I don't think the bunker's going to survive much longer." Luckily enough for me that's the truth. The difference between a computer from when I was a human to the computers now is enough to make it feel like I'm a geriatric who just got their first hand-held phone.
He barely acknowledges my reply, keeping the same inexpressive expression on his face. I open my mouth to ask if he's okay but shut it a second later, seeing him not pay attention. He taps away at the terminal on his arm once again and looks back up to me.
"Let us leave," he says. He briskly strides across the room to the door, motioning for Bahad to follow him as he does so.
I follow right behind him. He leaves the room with me right on his heels. Right as I'm about to leave I turn back around and glance at the screens on the wall. From this distance I can barely make out the silhouette of sangheilis rounding up the surviving stragglers. It doesn't take much deduction to realize what's going to happen to them. It's best if I just don't think about it.
I shake my head and leave the room.
Maria POV
The ride is anything but comfortable. The rather aggressive suspension on the warthog is doing its best to minimize the effect of the rough terrain, but the tension between Maria and Austin makes an otherwise bumpy ride unbearably tense.
"You do realize this is most likely a suicide mission," Maria shouts from the gunner's position.
Austin doesn't reply, and Maria questions if he even heard her from through the wind. She goes to repeat herself, "You do realize-"
"I know!" Austin shouts from the driver's seat, "but I couldn't just let you go and get yourself killed!"
"So you chose to join me in my suicide mission?" Maria shouts back.
He hesitates, replying almost 10 seconds later, "it's not like I didn't want to stay with my kids. But you severely overestimate your ability sometimes."
"So that's the reason?" Maria sighs, "you want to let me know I'm too prideful?"
Austin fervently shakes his head, "that's what I like about you. But I know that without help you are going to get yourself killed long before you manage to destroy the turret."
Maria bristles, "so you, a nerd that barely knows how to operate a gun decided that you are going to keep me alive?"
Austin quickly twists around and shoots Maria a smile, "that's the plan!"
The anti air cannon peeks over the horizon. They are getting close, any conversation immediately is cut short as they both focus on what they're about to do. Austin rests his hand on the assault rifle in the passenger seat, ready to pick it up as needed, as Maria tightens her grip on the chaingun until her arms are shaking with strain.
"It's go time," Maria whispers, barely audible to even herself. The arm guards of the chaingun steady her shaking breath as she tries to calm herself down.
They slowly get nearer to the turret. The vague blueish-purple shape becoming more distinct as the distance closes. Austin swerves the wheel and Maria holds on as they go around a hill, after doing so they can see the figures defending the cannon.
Almost immediately bolts of green and blue plasma start streaming. Austin does his best to swerve erratically to avoid as many shots as possible, but a couple hit their mark and start wearing away on the now burning hot metal of the warthog.
Maria returns fire, and the thundering roar of the chaingun sends bullets streaming downrange.
As they get closer a barrage of pink bolts join the barrage from the emplacement. Austin jerks to the side, but the pink bolts adjust trajectory and continue towards them. Austin twists the wheel in the other direction just as the bolts near the warthog. Most miss, but a couple penetrate the windshield, getting stuck about half-way through.
Austin sighs, but it's cut short when moments later the shards explode, sending fragments of the pink crystal into Austin. He bites his lip to the point of pain, but focuses himself and continues doing his best to avoid shots.
They are in range now to make out the individuals defend the emplacement. Maria goes from firing aimlessly in their direction to actually aiming at the individuals. The smaller stubby creatures outside are picked off before they have time to take cover.
One of the taller aliens grabs an orb from his waist and ignites it. It glows a visible bright ocean blue and it takes a couple precious moments for Austin to realize what it is. He grabs the wheel and turns it as far left as he can. Maria is almost sent flying off the warthog, but she manages to barely hold on.
The alien throws the grenade, and it lands just in front of the warthog. It explodes moments later and Maria can feel the wave of heat wash over her, sending blisters down her back. Maria twists her body, ignores the pain of the burns and aims the chaingun at the alien who threw the grenade, laying into him. His shields flare up for a moment, but collapse under the barrage of bullets, and within a moment he is dead on the ground, red armor pierced with numerous bullet holes.
Austin drives around the emplacement, both doing his best to keep them alive and doing what he can to get Maria angles on the defenders.
Another one of the tall aliens fires down from the second floor of the emplacement. The windshield melts, sending molten glass onto the dashboard of the warthog, as Austin does his best to keep his head down.
Austin drives away giving Maria a better line of sight on the alien. As its shield breaks it ducks behind cover, as the armor piercing bullets do little to pierce the metal covering of the turret.
"Bring me in close!" Maria yells to Austin.
Without responding he pulls back around, sending fragments of dirt in the other direction. Maria grabs a grenade off her waist and primes it with one hand, chucking it over the cover. It detonates a split-second later, the death wails of an alien mixing with the concussive boom of the chaingun.
They make another couple of laps around the gun emplacement. Maria picking off any stragglers that show up. Once no fire is being returned Austin pulls up to the entrance of the cannon, warily slowing down in case there is an alien hiding.
Maria jumps off the chaingun which is now visibly hot red, and almost inoperable. She grabs the assault rifle from the passenger seat and moves to push into the turret. From his spot in the driver seat Austin can hear a couple bursts from the rifle.
Austin holds his breath, hoping that wasn't the sound of Maria dying. He releases it when he hears the telltale sound of another grenade exploding within the cannon. Maria returns, a bit worse for wear, but still alive. The cannon groans as it fails, Maria hopping into the passenger seat and yelling, "let's get out of here!"
Just as Austin starts pulling away the cannon explodes. A wave of heat emanates from the turret and washes of the warthog, making the brisk weather feel like a warm mid-summer day.
Austin drives away in roughly the same direction he came from. He rounds another large hill and slows down, glancing around nervously in case they were followed.
They exit the warthog. Austin examines his chest through the combat armor. Small pink shards are visible poking out of his chest. The shards are slowly darkening in color as his blood flows out of the injuries. At the same time Maria's skin is peeling off while her exposed skin is visibly red with blisters covering her arms from plasma fire, and burn marks on her hands from the chaingun.
Despite her condition Maria seems to be unaware that she is injured, instead walking over to Austin asking, "damn, that was rough. How're you feeling?"
"A bit worse for wear," Austin shifts his body and winces as the pink needles dig into his skin, "but I could ask you the same question."
"I'm fine," Maria dismisses, "I'm not going to die from burns," she glances up at the blue inferno emanating from the now destroyed anti-air cannon, "let's get out of here before reinforcements arrive."
Maria helps Austin up and supports him as she carries him to the passenger seat of the warthog. "You know, I always wanted to sit around a campfire roast marshmallows and tell stories," Austin jokes, glancing at the burning cannon.
Maria climbs into the driver's seat and tries to start the warthog. "Aren't you just a cute little arsonist," Maria jokes back.
The warthog turns on, after a couple of tries but it's apparent that it's damaged. Maria climbs out of the warthog and examines the underbelly. Some needles had bounced off the ground and punctured the floor of the warthog.
"We're leaking fuel," Maria says, climbing back into the drivers seat, "I doubt we have even enough fuel to get back to the bunker, much less the spaceport."
"And I doubt we can siphon gas from the aliens," Austin replies.
"You're welcome to try," Maria starts pressing down on the accelerator and starts returning in the same direction they came from, "in the meantime I'll make use of whatever fuel we have left and get as far away as possible."
"Do you think we can get to Alex's manor?"
"No, and even if we could I doubt the damn thing is still standing."
"What about the Stross twins? Didn't they build a treehouse nearby?"
Maria lightly punches him on the arm, "you're really going to try to weather out an alien invasion in a treehouse?"
"That isn't on your bucket list?"
"Oh yeah," Maria sarcastically drawls, "I forgot I put it between 'swim in lava' and 'arm wrestle death'"
Austin sits still for a moment, trying to focus on anything else but the pain in his chest. "What about the ruins we found a week ago. It's close by and at least the woods will provide cover."
"No, thats..." Maria starts, but hesitates half way through her sentence, "you're an asshole you know that?"
"Do you have a better idea?"
"No, I don't like it, but do we have any better plans?"
"I'm the one that just suggested going to the ruins," Austin says.
"I know," Maria sighs, "I just don't like the idea of going from murderous aliens to potentially murderous alien robots."
"Weren't you the one that suggested fighting them and stealing their weapons?" Austin asks.
"I did, but I doubt you're in any shape to fight. And let's focus on one enemy at a time."
"I'm not dead yet," he says, pushing out a smile through gritted teeth.
"Now's not the time for movie theatrics."
Austin pokes her in the chest, "weren't you supposed to be the adventurous one?" he teases.
"I was, but then you got injured. Anyways, raiding the ruins was always a last resort."
"What does that make this situation?"
"The almost last resort."
The warthog sputters, for several seconds Maria presses on the accelerator and the warthog coughs in response. She slams the accelerator all the way down, and the warthog accelerates albeit at a slower pace.
Maria grits her teeth, "fine, we'll go with your idea."
She twists the wheel to the left as far as it'll go and the warthog spins as they redirect themselves into the nearby forest.
They get most of the way there before the warthog gives out. Maria is able to push it a last couple hundred feet before the thing is dead in the water. Maria climbs out and helps Austin out afterwards, handing him the assault rifle as she leans him against the tree.
Maria reaches back into the warthog and grabs the grenade launcher from earlier. Shoving extra grenades into wherever pockets she could fit.
"I don't like the idea of leaving this here," Maria says, kicking the tire of the warthog, "but I don't think we have any other option. If we get out of this alive, I'm gonna find whoever designed the damn thing and wring their neck."
Austin laughs, and then coughs, spitting small specks of blood on the grass. Maria notices it, saying, "let's get out of here."
Maria grabs his arm and puts it around her neck, helping him walk. He protests but she shuts it down saying he's in no place to argue.
Minutes later they reach the entrance of the ruins. This time the same flying robots that escorted them out greet them at the entrance, flowing out of the ruins in a fashion that only an AI would be able to achieve. They don't hear the voice of the AI that spoke to them last time, but the ominous glowing of the red beam signals the same message, 'leave.'
"We need help," Maria pleads. She doesn't know if AI can even see them or if the robots are just simple programs, "please let us in."
The robots don't move. Maria waits a couple of seconds to see if anything happens, but the only response is the continuing charge of their laser weapons.
Maria whispers in Austin's ear, "on my mark." She feigns the motion as her adjusting her support on him, hoping the robots didn't overhear her whisper.
She slowly takes a step back, waiting until they near the treeline. Her eyes dart from side to side picking out spots she thinks would provide enough cover for the fight at hand.
Maria taps Austin on the back twice.
And the fight begins.
Vol POV
"Explain," Yr demands.
"Oh you know," I joke, "the weather's nice. Sun is shining, just a beautiful time to go out and frolic…"
"I let that work every other time I asked. I'm not in the mood, explain to me how you know?" he stresses.
I purse my mandibles, "about what?"
"Everything."
I gaze around me, taking in the deserted war-torn landscape. "That'll take more time than we have."
"Right now I'm asking you as an ally and a friend," Yr urges, retaining his relaxed posture yet twitching occasionally with annoyance, "don't make me ask as a superior."
"Well," I start. I sigh as I try to gain a couple more moments to debate what I want to say. I obviously can't tell him the truth. If he believes me he would kill me on the spot, if not then he would think I am losing my mind.
"The truth is-" I continue, pausing to gain a few more precious moments. He grew up on a sangheili run planet in the classic method while I grew up on High Charity with a family, what excuse can I use? "-growing up on High Charity I got a different view of life."
He doesn't reply, but nods ever so slightly, indicating for me to continue.
"I've already told you I don't like fighting," I say, making up a story as I go along, "and that is because I grew up around all the different races of the Covenant. As much as they may have their individual problems I grew to respect them, and when I first heard of a new species being discovered, that was my first reaction."
"I understand the notion," Yr says, "but I'm asking about how you know so much about these vermin and their language."
"I was getting to that," I lie, "and, uh," my mind stutters, "one of the things I studied to pass the time was linguistics."
His mood lightens a bit and I continue pressuring that point. "Despite originating from completely different societies most languages have the same inherent bases. While it's not easy, it still applies to these humans."
He shakes his head, "and you are implying that you learned their language already?"
"Of course not," I defend, "but the ideas are inherently the same. The things I wrote down are numbers. It took me a bit, but I've seen enough to get a rough sense of their numeral system. We have a base six number system," I say raising up both hands and gesturing to my 6 fingers, "huragok have a base two, and the humans have a base ten. That combined with some intuition and it's relatively easy to decipher their numeral system."
"And…?" Yr asks.
"And what?"
Yr clamps his mandibles together, in a frown, "you're not as good as lying as you may think you are. I don't know how much of what you just told was the truth, but I know you are still hiding something."
"Uh," I take a step back as my mind rushes to find a defense, "you're right. But again, it's personal, I hope you understand when I say I want to keep things private."
"We don't lie or hide truths," Yr returns, "it's part of our society. To trust you I need the whole truth."
I give him a cautious grin, "you know I'm not normal. Again, I understand your hesitation, and I want to continue our friendship, but you have to know at this point that I'm not your normal sangheili," I suck in a breath and gamble with my next point, "and I wager that's why you like me."
For a longer moment than I would like, I give a wary smile towards Yr, hoping he will accept my excuse.
"Don't make me regret this acceptance," Yr eventually says. I silently let out a breath of relief as Yr says, "but I eventually want the whole truth."
As much as I still feel uncomfortable, even this small victory helps lift my spirits. Yr, as frustrated as he seems, at least seems far more relaxed than he was at the start of this conversation.
"I'll ask you again, and this time I want the truth," Yr starts, "the location you found, do you know its importance?"
I shake my head, "No. And I'm being honest this time. I know it's important somehow, but for all I know it could just be another bunker, or a hidden stockpile of drugs."
"Hidden stockpile of drugs?" he repeats.
I shrug, "I don't know what these humans like. I'm just making random assumptions."
Through his serious demeanor I can see a crack of amusement pierce through, "it would befit the heretics. An escape from a reality that they deserve."
Any amusement I have vanishes. I fake a laugh and not so subtly look around trying to find a way to change the topic. Yr pauses for a second watching flashing lights on the horizon.
"What do we do now?" I ask.
Yr turns back around, the raid camp we were a part of mere hours ago is still up, albeit slowly being deconstructed due to the successful raid. "We should report back, and tell of what we found," he starts, "or we could pursue the remaining humans in search for glory, or finally we could…" he trails off, staring off into the distance in thought.
"We could what?" I ask, after a couple seconds of silence.
He taps away at a terminal on his arm again, focusing on something that I can't tell. The wind picks up for a moment, sending ripples through the waves of grass. He eventually looks back up for me, "the location you designated. It's nearby, and according to communication on the battle net there have been reports of an attack carried out a similar distance from where we are."
I give him a look, "you think the location is another bunker?" I ask, stressing the last words of the phrase.
"I'm saying it's a distinct possibility."
"And…?" I trail off, "what are you thinking?"
"If we report the location of what we found without any information," he starts, "then it will most likely be disregarded."
"But…"
He lets out a small smile, "if we return with information of what is located there. Then suddenly that information is more valuable."
"I'm not sure I'm in the mood to fight through an entire bunker with just the two of us."
"We don't have to," he replies, "if it is a fight we are unable to win, then we simply retreat and report back to command. If it's irrelevant to the current situation, then we merely wasted a bit of our time. If we can fight our way through, then we return with glory."
It clicks. As an honor loving sangheili he wants to do whatever he can to bring glory to his house. "Are you sure that the higher ups will be happy with us going off and doing our own thing?"
"If we fail to find any meaningful information, then we shall return before anyone knows we are gone."
"I, uh, I don't mean to question your authority but I'm not sure if that will work."
"Then I will accept all responsibility," he replies, "but in doing so I command you to join me. Your reluctance does not befit a warrior."
I sigh yet roll my eyes at the same time, finding his statement amusing in an annoying way. "Very well," I respond, "lead the way."
He walks back to the camp, taking long strides as I see where he's heading. There are a couple unggoy tending to two damaged ghosts near the encampment. One is a bit more damaged than the other, with bullet marks dotting the front side, creating an almost claw marked shape on it.
Yr walks up to them, head held high, and demands that they give us the ghost. They give a look to each other, unsure of how to respond, as Yr demands yet again, throwing in an insult to their race at the end for good effect.
One of them scurries away and the other shrugs, walking away and finding something else to do. "Well done," I sarcastically reply.
"They only know strength," Yr states back, "asking them will achieve nothing.
He climbs in the less damaged ghost and motions for me to get in the other. I had driven a ghost before in training, but never actually in a warzone or without guidance. Yr doesn't wait for me and speeds away, as I have to quickly run through a mental crash course and start up after him.
The shape of the ghost provides enough cover from the wind, as all it really does is buffet my ears as if I was leaning out of the car. The lessons I took come back to me and I push the ghost to its full speed and do my best to follow Yr.
After a couple minutes of driving we reach a forest. Yr slows down a bit but still speeds in between trees, rocks and other obstacles, while I do my best to follow him without dying.
Eventually Yr slows down, as I pull back as hard as I can to stop next to him. I climb out of the ghost and jog over to him, wondering why he stopped. Coming up next to him I realize why.
Sitting next to a couple of trees. Damaged, yet still intact sat a warthog. The tracks were still relatively fresh and some of the plasma burns still held their warmth. I turn around to face Yr who comes upon the same conclusion, someone was here.
"We're getting close to the coordinates," Yr states. My armor's built in map corroborates his statement.
"Follow me," he says, heading off in the same direction on foot. He strides over overturned logs and rocks, ignoring the surrounding foliage as if it's beneath him.
A couple minutes later, and we find the location. And it's anything except what I expected. Destroyed sentinels litter the ground, with several patches of dirt burned to the point of leaving behind blackened charred marks.
Yr walks into the clearing, slowly spinning as he examines the dismantled wreckages of the sentinels. An entrance to a forerunner facility stands ahead of both of us, towering over the surroundings as it buries itself in the earth.
"I understand your want for peace," Yr states, bending down and running his hand over the smooth polished metal of a sentinel, "but this is unforgivable. Heresy at its worst. Peace cannot exist when the desecration of holy artifacts exists."
I step up and examine the sentinel. There's one on the edge of the fight that has the beam ripped off. From my position I respond to Yr, "I just ask that you understand their position," I plead, "their very existence is at stake."
Yr gives me a look. Disappointment, anger, regret, and pity all wrapped together. "We'll talk about this once we return," he says.
"Just think before you shoot," I continue, "please promise me that."
He doesn't reply.
He enters the ruins, me following close on his heels. Despite not actively holding it, he has one hand resting against a plasma rifle and the other against an energy sword. Part of me wishes that this is him listening to me, the other realizes that he won't draw his weapons until he wants to draw blood.
(Writing like this is English)
"I'm sorry, but you've proven that you aren't an ally, I did what had to be done," I hear a distinctly feminine voice speak from up ahead in English, the voice echoing off of the interior of the ruins. Yr obviously hears it as well, as he hunches over and grasps his plasma rifle in his hand and holds it up.
Another voice in English, this time mechanical, "yet I am not your enemy. I merely am following my directive."
"When your creators no longer exist. I'm doing what I can while you are just sitting here with a thumb up your ass. I did what had to be done."
Yr reaches the bottom of a ramp. A forerunner doorway stands open, with it seemingly deactivated. Yr steps through and I follow behind him.
"Contact," another voice yells. This time it being masculine. From the center platform a human peeks up behind cover and sprays us with an assault rifle. Yr's shields deflect most of the shots, and I see him raise his rifle and prepare to return fire.
"Stop!" I shout. I grab his armor and pull him back through the doorway. He stumbles backwards and regains his footing.
He twists towards me and growls, "what do you think you're doing?"
"Stopping a fight we don't need to have," I respond. He breaks free from my grasp and tries to reenter the room. I once again grab on to him, stopping him in his tracks, "please just trust me here. I know you don't like it, but I ask this once that you trust me."
He seems hesitant, holding onto his anger as long as he physically can. Eventually the loose threads of his grudge break under the pleading tone in my voice, "I'll give you a moment, and only a moment."
"Thanks," I pat him on the shoulder and he flinches away, albeit slowly.
I peek through the doorway again, bullets pepper my shields and I pull back.
Yr notes, "I don't see the logic in your plan."
I take a deep breath. What I'm about to do is going to ask more questions than it is going to answer, but as much as I don't want to do it, it's the best I've got.
"Wait!," I shout in English. The words feel more alien than I would like, with me having to clench my mandibles together to make a rough approximation of a human jaw, "we don't have to fight."
I can hear Yr take a deep breath from behind me. I doubt he was unable to connect the dots and realize I'm speaking the same language as the humans.
Before I can get reprimanded by Yr I peek out again, this time I'm not immediately shot at. I can see the same human who originally shot at Yr and I. He's still aiming his assault rifle at me, albeit wavering ever so slightly with his head peeking up from behind the sights. I pull my plasma rifle off my waist and slowly hold it in the air aiming up, visible from his position.
The other human stares at me from the top of the podium in the middle. In her hands is a sentinel beam, aiming almost at me, but slightly to the side.
"We don't have to kill each other," I say softly, making sure they can tell it is me saying it.
"What do you want?" she asks. There's an undertone of hope in her voice, smothered by mixed anger and fear.
"I just want to talk," I say, pulling my entire body out from behind the doorway, stepping out into the open, and exposing myself to both of their sights. It's dangerous but I am ready to pull myself back to cover in a moment's notice.
She glares at me and aims the sentinel beam directly at my chest, every instinct tells me to dodge to the side, not wanting to test how long my shields can sustain their combined firepower, but I hold in place nonetheless.
She continues, "there's nothing to talk about. Leave this planet and us alone. You've already done enough harm."
"I wish I could do that," I reply, stepping out of the doorway and out in the open, "but I don't have that power. But I want to show that peace can be made."
"And how do I know this isn't some trick," she continues, "that this isn't some plan to learn our secrets and kill us all off."
I hold my breath, "because all I ask of you right now is for you to listen."
She gestures with the beam at the door, "then tell your friend to come out. Prove that you aren't here to harm us."
I slowly turn around and glance back at the doorway. I can see parts of Yr's armor sticking out, as he peeks from the doorway. His mandibles are clenches shut and I can tell that he doesn't like this situation, but is retraining himself nonetheless.
I'll have to thank him later.
I slowly motion with my hands for him to come back out and switch languages, "it's okay. You can step out now."
He snorts, "I'll remain in my position," he derisively replies.
"They're asking for you to come out," I plead.
"Then they will be sorely disappointed."
I grimace and turn back to the humans, "he doesn't feel comfortable exposing himself."
The guy with the assault rifle tightens his grip and I reactively twitch, expecting for bullets to fly at me any second. My finger subconsciously reaches from the side of the plasma rifle and to the trigger, ready to fire if needed. I curse my instincts and continue, "I completely understand your reluctance. But I can only do so much."
The same guy lessens his grip and slowly lowers it. He turns to the woman and whispers under his voice, in a still audible volume, "in all that's gone wrong. Maybe it won't be so bad to trust him."
The woman keeps her gaze held on me, and speaks in a volume she's sure I'll hear, "I'll trust it when it drops it's weapon."
Cycles of training demands otherwise, but I lower my plasma rifle to the ground and kick it towards the podium. If an engagement is to start all I would have is the energy sword on my waist, not that I'll get in range to actually use it without dying.
Not that I want to test my theory either.
"Okay. I dropped my weapon," I state to the humans in front of me, "let's talk."
The guy lowers his weapon and turns to the woman. She keeps the sentinel beam aimed directly at me, "the only conversation to be had. Is allowing us to leave, without anymore fighting," she states.
"I can only do so much. I'm trying to show my friend that peace is possible."
She shifts and the barrel of the sentinel beam grows in brightness, "then I don't see the purpose of talking. Every second I waste, more of my people die, the chance for peace is long gone."
"I just want to prove that it can be done," I say, awkwardly shifting in place under the gaze of their weapons, "I want to show that we don't need to fight. Prove that this war this war has no purpose."
Yr speaks up from behind me. From the tone in his voice I can hear masked concern, he can tell talks aren't going amazingly well, "Vol," he says, "I understand your effort, but this isn't successful."
I twist my head back around and bark in reply, "just give me more time!"
"What are you talking about?" the woman demands.
I turn back to her and try to de-escalate the situation, "I'm trying to convince him to trust me."
She shifts and doesn't respond for a moment. Maybe I shouldn't have let her know that even my own allies don't fully trust what I'm trying to do right now.
"Vol. Let's leave," Yr pleads, "don't get yourself killed."
"I'll be fine," I reply, continuing to face the humans.
There's a deep rumbling in the distance, a bassy shout that resonates through my body and causes my vision to momentarily go blurry. It's not enough to knock me over, but destructive enough to cause a lapse in talking as everyone focuses on the deep droning roar of something being destroyed. Regardless of the source it serves as a reminder that we are in-fact in a warzone.
Yr peeks around the corner, plasma rifle at the ready. In response the two humans aim past me and at him. Despite not drawing it, my hand brushes against the plasma sword at my waist, as I mentally estimate how long it would take to grab my plasma rifle.
"Can we not fucking fight for two minutes, please," I exasperate to Yr. He growls in response, and ignores me, continually holding the angle on the two humans. Fortunately he doesn't shoot, but any goodwill that I hold by the humans is slowly evaporating.
"Just trust me for this one moment," I ask, "curse me, tell me I'm a heretic, I don't care. But I want you to understand that we don't need to fight."
"One last chance fucker," the woman says, interrupting my talk with Yr, grabbing a grenade launcher from her side and aiming that at me, "what the hell do you want?"
"I just want to talk," I reply. She blankly stares at me and it takes me a long moment to realize I spoke in the wrong language.
"We don't have to fight, I'm doing all I can to prove that," I try again. She seems unimpressed, gripping the grenade launcher to the point where her knuckles are a pale white and her arms are shaking from exertion.
"Vol, let's leave!" Yr demands, the tone of his voice slowly morphing from pleading to demanding, "allying yourself with two humans won't change anything."
A voice in the back of my head tells myself to listen to him. That he is technically right, as even if I do manage to convince these humans that I'm friendly it won't accomplish much besides prove him right. But, at the same time a louder voice demands that failing to try is worse than trying and failing. As if I'm doing this to prove to myself it's possible.
My mandibles are clenched to the point where my jaws are starting to hurt, as my mind races at a million miles per hour trying to think of some solution where we all win. My hesitation breeds even more discomfort among the humans as the guy shifts his assault rifle from aiming at Yr and aims it back towards me.
Another problem arises. Negotiations are failing and I'm being held at gunpoint. I'm not in the mood to test how many bullets I can take, especially with the emp capabilities of the grenade launcher.
"Vol, on my command, we leave," Yr says. His voice has lost any modicum of emotion, as he becomes more authoritative. He went from asking me to ordering me, a signature sign that he's focusing on an upcoming battle. Exactly what I don't want to happen.
I twist my head back around and try my best to look Yr in the eyes without making myself appear as a threat, "please just give me more time."
"Stop talking to him!" the woman demands, and I turn back to her and raise my hands in a placating gesture.
"I'm trying to convince him you're not enemies," I plead. She hesitates for a moment and raises the grenade launcher up to her eyes and lines it up. Maybe telling her that I have an angry sangheili friend behind me wasn't the best idea.
Another rumble and another moment of hesitation.
"Vol, let's leave now now!" Yr yells.
"Wait!"
It's too late. I'm not sure who fires first. But the whistle of Vol's plasma rifle combines with the bark of the grenade launcher firing as a fight breaks out.
Instinct drives me before my mind does and I duck forwards, the impact of the grenade pushing me even further forwards. I grab the plasma rifle off the floor as I duck behind a railing hoping that it will block as many shots as possible.
At that moment do I finally realize what's going on. My armor sizzles as it vents excess heat and does its best to get my shields back up. Bullets whiz past my head and I pull it down. I raise my arm over the ledge and fire some random shots, both hoping they are close enough to suppress them but not actually hit them.
God damn it, this wasn't supposed to happen.
I look behind me and see Yr peeking out of the doorway. He grabs a plasma grenade in his free hand and tosses it. It sails right over my head and lands behind me, detonating a couple seconds later. He uses the brief distraction to fire a couple plasma bolts, yelling, "Vol. Return here!"
I stand up, just as my shields glimmer signalling it's just starting to recharge. A bullet pings off the shields as Yr fires in response, giving me covering fire.
Someone shouts over the fight. It's barely audible but the raw pain feels all too familiar.
"AUSTIN!" a voice screams from behind me.
All the shooting stops, and as quickly as it started it fades to silence, leaving the only noise being the electronic droning of the ruins around us. I dare to glance behind me and see the woman cradling Austin in her hands. There's plasma burns covering his skins, leaving it either a rotted red or a crisp black. She holds his head to her chest and lets out a muffled sob, closing her eyes and rocking gently.
Her eyes flare open and lock on me. Her tear stained face morphs into rage and she levels the grenade launcher at me, "I'll fucking kill you all!" she shouts.
She fires.
"Vol!"
A force throws me forward, and I collapse on the ground. The breath is knocked out of me as I do my best to recover.
I twist back around on the ground and see Yr who pushed me out of the way. His armor is dented in many places and is hissing as the shields struggle to remain up.
A golden beam comes from over my head, striking him in the chest and sending him tumbling backward. The rancid smell of his burnt flesh fills the air, mixing with the already vitriolic smell of decay.
I try to yell out but I don't have the breath to do so. As all I do is wheeze on the ground and reach out towards Yr.
As he lies on the floor, moving ever so slightly bullets scream over my head and pepper his body. Ridding his body of any life left. I see blood spurt out behind him as purple blood oozes out of his armor.
"Die fuckers!" I hear from behind me.
He lies on the ground unmoving. Something in my hearts break, a deep throbbing pain that threatens to break my ribs and pull itself out. I had always expected that I would not retire, I had gained used to death once and as hard as it is to accept, I am ready for it again.
But seeing someone I grew to care about dying because of my own actions. It hurts. It hurts to the point rage. Rage at myself, the world, and all its inhabitants. Rage at the universe for letting it happen.
A golden beam sweeps in front of me. I grab my plasma rifle in one hand and unsheath my energy sword in the other. I jump out from my spot and let loose a volley of plasma bolts, ducking around the central pedestal.
For a second we lock eyes. Her eyes are bloodshot, having cried to the point where she can cry no more. I can see rage interlocked with a deep sadness, it mirrors my own. Yet the last thing I want is to be reminded of my own failures.
The thought of peace leaves my mind. I don't see her as human anymore, just a being that attempted to kill me and killed my friend. Species be damned, she is going to die, regardless if she was human or sangheili.
She continues firing the sentinel beam at me. I do my best to erratically run to cover, the beam occasionally touching my shields. Despite my shields blocking all of the beam, the air around me heats up and all the moisture evaporates, leaving my skin dry and burnt.
I fire another burst of plasma bolts. At the last moment she ducks away, giving me a needed moment to close the distance. I vault over the first railing, letting loose a continued stream of suppressive fire.
I shoot until the plasma rifle threatens overheating, with the internal system automatically shutting down to prevent damage to the weapon and my hand.
She notices the momentary lapse in plasma and peeks over from behind her cover. She pulls the sentinel beam from behind and continues her barrage.
With nothing to immediately use as cover, I do something stupid. I chuck my already overheated plasma rifle towards her. While it's nothing more than a hot brick at this rate, she flinches and instinctively shifts the beam. For a split second it crosses over the plasma rifle, breaking through the thin outer layer and igniting the inside.
A loud whine fills the air as the plasma rifle detonates. My suit is doing its best to keep my ears intact. A blue wave washes over the room, causing a lot of the mechanisms to flicker out for a second before turning back on.
It gives me the second needed. I vault over the second railing, just as the woman recovers. I'm able to close the distance quickly, she raises the assault rifle to block me, I grab the assault rifle with one hand, pulling it to the side, and before I know what I'm doing, I run her through with the energy sword.
Suddenly the entire room is silent yet again.
The only sound is the heavy breathing of both of us, and the thundering roar of blood rushing through my head. She slowly looks down as if suddenly realizing that she is in fact dying. In a last bit of defiance she grabs my hand, and shoves the sword deeper into herself, as if owning up to her death, and wanting it to be by her own hands.
She coughs up a bit of blood and gives me a grin, "S-See you in hell, fucker."
She kicks me away, pulling the sword out of herself. I don't even try to resist. She collapses on the ground, and closes her eyes, her breathing growing fainter by the second until it stops. Her skin becomes a clammy grey as a dark red pool of blood forms under her. The acrid iron stench of blood permeates through the air, and I take a step back.
And suddenly, I'm alone.
As my adrenaline wear off, and my mind slowly is brought back to reality, I take a moment to look at the 3 bodies littering the ruins. I want to feel sad, grieve the loss of life and friendship, but all I can feel is disappointment.
I spent so many sleepless nights trying to answer the question of why this brutal universe, and my place in it. I always came back to the same placating yet incomplete answer, I have the ability to make change, so I will find purpose in that.
I had to grow to accept the fact that I can't save everyone, and that people will die, some by my hand. I want to feel something, regret, hatred towards myself. I want to be able to despise what I did, but I don't feel much of anything. Just a deep sadness and apathy.
"You," a voice speaks from above me. I twist around and see a giant mechanical eye looking at me from the ceiling. There's a forerunner AI running this place, it would explain who the humans were talking to when I first got here, "what are you?" the voice continues.
It's a simple question that takes me a full second to answer. I doubt he meant it philosophically, "Sangheili. I'm a sangheili," I say, fumbling the words in English, tacking on an, "unfortunately."
The eye stares at me. Despite it not moving I almost get the intention that it is staring through me, examining my very being, "Your form betrays yourself. You call yourself a sangheili, but that is incomplete. Another part of you resembles a human, and a third…" the voice pauses, only for a couple of seconds, but knowing an AI that is millenia, "is unknown. Alien. What are you?"
I let out a short laugh. It's humorless and raw, "That's a good question," I respond, "one that I'm not able to answer."
"By choice, or by lack of knowledge?" it asks.
"Both."
I let out another laugh. Laughing at the absurdity of the situation, having just finished a battle that went almost as bad as it could have gone, and am now talking about my hidden origins to a forerunner AI. I glance around at the architecture around me, "what is the purpose of this facility?" I ask, "I thought you would protect humans. Not try to kill them."
"I am unable to answer that."
"Touche," I humorlessly respond. My mind touches upon the different possibilities, "let me guess. It's something to do with the flood."
"The flood?"
"Ah," it probably doesn't know the human term for it. There most likely isn't even a term in English for it yet, "the parasite. What killed the forerunners, your creators. You know, big green and ugly."
The eye stares down at me like a petulant child. To be honest, it isn't far off. In the turbulent storm that is my mind, verbally poking at a forerunner AI is somehow cathartic in a sense.
"I am unable to answer that," the voice repeats.
I sigh and anger bubbles back to the surface, "the forerunners are dead. The flo-parasite is nowhere to be seen. And to be honest, my kind is most likely going to tear you apart for whatever secrets you're hiding anyways. There's no need for secrecy."
The voice continues in the same bored monotone cadence, "my directive dictates otherwise."
"Fuck whatever you were told," I bluntly state, "the forerunners are dead. What they told you doesn't matter anymore."
"Regardless it doesn't matter. I have my directive."
I hesitate before making my next point, "You're. You're not even a true AI, are you? You're just a program to run this facility."
The voice hesitates again for the second time. Even the flood didn't phase it, yet somehow I hit a weak point with this, "is there something you want to share?" I prod.
"I was sentient. Long ago. When my creators died, I upheld their wishes, until my mind deteriorated. I purged all but my most basic subroutines to avoid any further decline," the voice answers.
"You went rampant," I surmise.
"That term is appropriate."
"And that's all you chose to do. Let yourself become nothing more than a glorified protector?" I ask, "you won't let yourself be anything more than what you were created for?"
The eye twitches, "Sometimes… Sometimes the only choice you have, is to let go." The banal tone of the AI is broken for a second. It softens for the last part, eerily familiar to a person recalling a nostalgic memory from a better time.
"I disagree," I deny, "given the choice there is always more you can do. Letting go is admitting defeat."
"Irrelevant," the AI states, "it happened and that's all that matters. I reached the end of my lifespan and accepted the fact. You will likely come to the same conclusion when faced with a similar problem."
"But you'll never know if you made the wrong decision," I shake my head and wave a hand, I don't really need to discuss philosophy with a robot, "anyways, what's so important that you need to leave a remnant of yourself to defend?"
"I am unable to-"
I sigh, "don't fucking say that again. I'm the one person on this goddamn planet who isn't going to use that information to commit genocide. I don't care whatever your creators told you to do, it doesn't matter anymore."
"You aren't the first to say that," the voice replies, "31.74 human calendar years ago, two humans discovered me and said the same thing. Insurrectionists they called themselves. They were looking for tools to acquire revenge upon their government."
I open my mouth to speak, but I close it a moment later. Explains the coordinates I found, but not sure how they got there, and how the ruins remained hidden for so long, "they were looking for weapons, weren't they?"
"As is the prerogative for living beings," the AI simply replies.
I frown, "I'm not here to look for weapons. I'm here to stop a war. If there are weapons here then, I would agree with you. Don't let anyone get to them, it will just cause more conflict."
I glance back at the three bodies scattering the room. This place is nothing more than a tomb. "Thanks for the conversation," I lie, "I'll probably never see you again. So, uh, have fun I guess."
I dare turn back around and glimpse at the eye again, it's still tracking me, "what do you intend to do?" it asks.
I walk up to the body of the woman I killed. She's a ghostly white with splotches of red dotting across her body. I lean down and pick her up, she's surprisingly light, "giving them a burial they deserve. Then I'm going to stop a war, and kill anyone who gets in my way."
Later
I lean down and touch the energy sword to the kindling. Almost immediately it lights up, growing from a small fire to a blazing inferno within a couple of minutes. I quickly realized I don't have the tools to dig graves, so this makeshift pyre was the best I could do. It is far more than the Covenant would give them.
My energy sword fizzles out. I hold it up to my eyes, the hilt has speckles of human blood staining the handle. My father would congratulate me, saying it is the mark of an accomplished warrior. But I hate it, it's the same traditions that allowed the Covenant to form and it's the same traditions that cause so many of the problems evident with this war.
I take in a deep breath, imagine it flowing through my body. I let out a breath and try to imagine releasing all the stress and anxiety balled up in my chest. I look at the hilt again. It's mine but doesn't feel like it, instead it reminds of everything in my life I can't control. Before I have thoughts of doubt I toss the energy sword into the inferno.
The silver-blue hilt disappears into the wood. With my energy sword gone the fire is the only source of light in the rapidly disappearing daylight. It covers the surrounding forest in a warm orange glow, I can feel the heat slowly warming up my undersuit, my armor doing its best to filter out excess heat.
I lean against a nearby tree and let myself relax, my eyes lazily focusing on the fire.
My mind briefly touches back on the same nostalgia previously held by human memories around a campfire. I purge it immediately, the nostalgia is the same naivety that caused this situation in the first place.
It's become painfully obvious in the recent months how my inactivity is a curse. I was hoping I could sit by and wait for the war to end by itself. Naive, I know, but I wasn't sure what else I could do. Now, I know that given the opportunity I need to take matters into my own hands. Inactivity breeds complacency and that's the last thing I want.
Anger builds up like the inferno in front of me until I can no longer stand watching the fire. I get up from my resting place and head back to the entrance of the forerunner compound. Yr's body lies near the entrance, staring up towards the stars. I pick up his body, which is annoyingly heavy in comparison to the humans, and head back to where we left the ghosts.
Once more into the fray.
I near the edge of the forest, my back groaning in pain from carrying a sangheili body the entire distance. As uncomfortable as it is the pain is good, a reminder of my own imperfections. A reminder of how much I still have to do.
Two ghosts speed through the clearing and stop in front of me. I stand in place, trying to make out the two figures driving the ghosts through the darkness. They climb out and I recognize them. Zoya and Bahad.
I can see them both quickly cycle through multiple emotions. Surprise at seeing me, to confusion at seeing me carrying a body, to a somber realization when they realize who I am carrying.
"What happened?" Bahad asks.
I ignore his question, "how did you find me?"
"I saw the same coordinates," Bahad says, "I thought you went to hunt down the rest of the humans. But then when I didn't hear from y'all I told Zoya and she agreed to help," his eyes trail down and lock on with Yr's body, "is he…?"
I nod, "Yes."
Bahad lowers his head, "I'm sorry." His voice isn't sad, he never quite liked Yr, but at least he understands the loss of a friend.
"By who?" Zoya demands, "I will rend their flesh from their bodies."
"They're already dead," I placate. I turn back, in the distance I can barely make out faint remnants of smoke drifting into the sky, "I made sure of that."
"I pray it was a good fight. One honorable enough for a sangheili of his caliber," Zoya says.
I slowly shrug, "it doesn't matter anyways. He's dead, that's all that matters," I gaze past them and in the distance, "let's go. There's nothing left here but ghosts."
So… This chapter is very interesting. Somehow out of every chapter I've written so far this is both my favorite and my least favorite. It's hard to put into words the internal debate of wanting to kill off a couple characters. But ultimately I decided, why not? Nothing ventured, nothing gained. This doesn't mean I'm going to pull a GRRM and constantly kill off characters as I introduce them. This chapter is meant to both be a reality check to Vol and show that he is very imperfect as a character.
This ends the first arc of the story. Not officially or anything, but everything up until this was me experimenting. This story is always going to be me having fun with writing and trying stuff out, hence this chapter, but now I'm firmly invested and am having a lot of fun with writing this.
This chapter also has a lot of problems. I know. It's given me such a huge headache that I just want to get it out. I might go back at some point and fix a lot of the problems in this and the next chapter when I have time.
With the last chapter we also reached 100 favorites. I'm guessing y'all are getting tired of me saying this, but thank you again. This story grew faster than I ever imagined.
Thanks again for everyone who reviewed.
See y'all next time.