Chapter 5: The Mighty Fall
Three large shapes moved through the dimly lit hallways of the Covenant's former capital city. Red warning lights danced back, bathing everything in a blood red hue. On either side of the Master Chief were the two highest ranking Forerunners.
"It was an act of desperation; we knew that if we could prevent ourselves from being consumed by the Flood, we would be able to one day return." The one on his right stated, although John could not see how, considering he had no mouth.
"We agreed that allowing one of our own to remain behind to release everyone once the parasite had been contained was a risk that we could not afford, not after what he had seen happen to our generals." Images of Captain Keyes flooded into his mind suddenly but he forced them out. Two large doors were directly in front of the trio and they opened with a deep groan. Inside, shapes darker than the surrounding shadows moved about slowly, every once in a while stepping into the dark blue glow coming from the energy shields holding prisoners in. Quietly, Elites stood upright reciting carefully memorized verses of their religion.
"So full of hate were our eyes that none of us could see our war would yield countless dead but never victory…" Standing in the center of the room was a Forerunner captain wearing the typical helmet that only covered his forehead. Small blue diodes glowed in the darkness along with the visor which glowed a brighter blue.
"I'd like to see the Fleet Admiral," John stated. The guard pointed to a cell and one of the others deactivated the shield before pulling the Elite out. He limped over slowly before standing in front of the Chief. His armor was battered and broken as well as not having a helmet any longer. Dried blood caked his armor and his own blood glistened as it slowly made it's way down his battered body. "You're crew should be proud of the fight they put up, most of your brethren didn't survive the initial volleys."
"There is no glory in surrendering your life and the lives of your men to the enemy," he shot back quickly, a slight rasp in his voice from the fluid building up in his lungs. "The Great Journey has begun and we have been left behind."
"Do not get hung up on that religious rhetoric, there was never a Great Journey, just your fool Prophets desperately trying to keep control of their bloated empire."
"Hold your tongue when speaking about the Holy Ones Human traitor! You have forsaken your own weak species and have turned against those that foolishly accepted you. Now you control these…creatures that falsely refer to themselves as the Gods."
"You might want to watch what you say, you forget that these creatures have just obliterated the mighty Covenant armada, losing only three ships, none of them capitals." Anger flashed across the admiral's face and John knew he had hit a nerve. "And if Humans are so weak, why was one of them able to bring the Covenant down without much trouble?" The slight twitch in his cheek gave his attentions away. Lunging forward, the Elite tried to knock John to the ground but was himself slammed into the cold floor. Within a split second the Master Chief was on top of him, the blue blade projecting from his wrist hovering only a few inches away from the Elite's exposed flesh. "Tell me where the rest of your fleet is and you and your men may have an honorable death." Looking over to his right slightly John saw the other Elites crowded up against the energy shields.
Minor Fleet Master Husa' Mallamee stood in absolute shock after the reports of what had happened slowly filtered into his ship, the Sanctimonious Trinity and the other remaining ships that he had been given command of. No one on the bridge spoke as their thoughts were focused on the failing off their mighty Covenant. The perfect silence was broken as alarms quietly rang throughout the vaulted bridge chamber. Mallamee looked at the different view screens but couldn't spot whatever had triggered the alarms. Suddenly one of the smaller frigates near them exploded in a cloud of blue flame and molten metal. He lunged over to a holo-panel and tapped a small red circle. Red lights flashed on and the alarms now screamed throughout the entire ship.
"Slipspace ruptures off the port!" and Elite yelled from the pit below the command deck. Just as he finished the only other Assault Carrier's nose was separated from the rest of the hull in a blinding flash. Fragments of metal almost as large as drop ships ricocheted off the silver shields of the capital ships without any harm.
"Charge all main batteries! Target any unconfirmed ship and fire at will!" The Fleet Master yelled out. It was too late though; a poorly aimed shot obliterated the engine housings and knocked the main generator offline. All of the lights inside shut off except for a few dim ones at the bottom of the walls and the artificial gravity became nonexistent. As he floated through the air, Mallamee grabbed a small protruding rod from the consoles and pushed himself towards the main door. Other crewmembers were moving there as well and waited for the Fleet Master to arrive. The door was cracked a little bit and once they opened up the control panel next to it and fed a small amount of power into it the door groaned open just enough to let the armored Elites squeeze through. Unfortunately for the Grunts with their methane tanks and awkward stance, they were unable to fit through. Mallamee floated down the dark hall way and reached to his belt only to find two plasma grenades and a Plasma Pistol, knowing he had clipped an Energy Sword to his belt earlier. His fingers finally grasped around the metal hilt and he fired up the blade. Bright white light flooded the low hallways and they were able to make their way a little faster. A few dead bodies floated lifelessly through the air, small clouds of blood orbiting around the corpses. Another impact shuddered through the Assault Carrier's superstructure as a shot from their unknown enemy effortlessly blasted through their armor plating. After just a few minutes of navigation they arrived the lifepod docking stations. Every single one of them was still in it's position. Mallamee was about to lean around the corner to see how the area looked but one of his subordinates put a strong arm onto his shoulder and pushed him backwards.
"Let us," one said behind him before floating forward in front of the Fleet Master.
"There is nothing to-," he said protesting but was cut-off by the sound of an Elite's head exploding in front of him. What had been inside of his cranium was now a cloud floating around and spraying against the walls around them. More shots crackled through the air, contacting with the Elites who were rushing out from behind cover to attack their superior foes. Mallamee pushed into the open hallway and saw the dark shapes firmly planted on the deck. Spheres of magnetically encased anti-matter sizzled around the Elites' ears and he realized their bleak position. Desperately searching for someway to get an upper hand, he saw the lifepod airlock and floated in. "Abandon ship!" he yelled out to the surprise of his surviving crewmembers. They saw that he meant what he said and disengaged the enemy. The last Elite in pulled a wounded comrade in behind him before Mallamee sealed the door and ejected themselves from the dieing Sanctimonious Trinity. While the others tended to their terminal brother, the Fleet Master stood at the control panel deep in thought. At first he was going to bring up the preprogrammed coordinates for High Charity but knew that that would send them straight to the hornet's nest. The last locations of the other fleets scrolled through his mind but contact had was slowly being lost one by one over the past few hours. The only other fleet he knew of was the one assaulting Earth but the retreat order was never responded to.
"Whatever you decide, we will follow you," his XO said behind him. The SpecOps Elite walked forward in the narrow and dimly lit craft, his blue lights the only real distinguishing feature on him.
"I'm not sure you will like where I believe we must go. Our fleets are gone, High Charity has been captured, there is no one left to rescue us…except for the," his went so quiet that the XO had problems hearing him, "except for the Humans." The SpecOps snarled and withdrew. "Janamee, listen, if we do not go to Earth our Covenant and everything we have fought for will be for naught. The Humans, however weak and inferior, still have a military and the element of surprise."
"I would prefer suicide over this option." Mallamee, almost instantly, held the hilt of his sword out to Kara' Janamee. They stood like this for a few seconds before Janamee extended his hand closed Mallamee's around the hilt. "If you believe this is what we should do, then I trust in your judgment." Mallamee nodded and inserted the coordinates to the Sol system. Darkness enveloped the lifepod as it's Slipspace generator kicked in. The Fleet Master prayed that he had made the correct move…
"Their information was correct; the attack group destroyed their fleet with ease."
"Did any of them escape?" John asked, not turning around the face the Forerunner behind him. Rain fell in sheets against the patio and off in the distance lighting flashed for a split second.
"A lifepod was able to get away, our sensors believed that it was a large piece of debris until it's Slipspace generators activated."
"Did you at least get the coordinates?" he asked, making sure his frustration came through in his voice.
"Yes, they are headed to the Sol system."
"There went what remained of our surprise." John turned around when he heard the door open to the large room he was standing in. Once occupied by the Prophet of Truth, he had claimed it for himself. Great chandeliers of a blue crystal hung in the middle of the incredibly vaulted ceilings, illuminating the room as if it was made of ice and illuminated itself. Four Forerunners, none of which were dressed in armor but instead a few layers of dark cloaks, walked in swiftly. Holding the highest ranks in the Forerunner military, or what had been assembled so far, these soldiers meant business whenever they arrived.
"It will take time for us to rebuild our fleets, more that we originally expected. Our forge worlds were ravaged by the Flood to a point where all of their natural resources are behind recovery. Because of this, it will take many years before we will have enough resources to begin construction." Yet another blow in John's plan.
"Do what you have to; we'll continue the summoning process so that we will have more hands when we actually begin." They nodded and left the room along with the messenger. Using some of the most advanced technology the galaxy had ever seen, the Forerunners were able proverbially banish themselves into a parallel dimension until they were brought back when the Flood had starved to death. Time within this dimension was even more skewed than when inside Slipspace in the sense that they had been sealed off for maybe a few months when in reality it had been thousands of years. John still hadn't been able to get his mind around all of the things they were talking about nor did he ever expect to, but it was still fascinating nonetheless. Someone cleared their throat from behind him and he looked out onto the balcony. Standing next to a few wet drapes was beautiful woman. Wearing some robes given to them by the Forerunners, she walked over to John, soaked straight through. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pushed herself against his armored body. "Things never work out how we want them to."
"Don't worry about it, it'll all be fine in the end." John just nodded, wondering if they would be outmaneuvered rather than outgunned.
