*****AOMNH: Down Into the Dark*****
AN: Well… all I can say is that it's still, technically, not after Christmas. And hooooollly crap were there a lot of reviews. Have I mentioned how happy I am because of that, even now, months later? Anyway, on that note, there are actually too many for me to respond to using my typical methods – disregarding how long it's been since most of you made them – so all I'll say before we get into it once more is thanks for all the love! Keep being awesome, and please, keep reviewing; rereading them before I started writing this only made me want to return your gratitude in kind.
Also, huuuuuge thanks to ThePilotArchangel for his help here. He essentially wrote half this chapter himself (largely thanks to me being stumped on what to do next for half of it, which he was more than happy to help with). Go check out his stories; you might find something you like while you're there.
Oh and one last thing: I decided to go with a blend of POVs, as suggested by most of you who reviewed, so thanks for your input. Now, onto the story!
"-everyone strapped in back there?" the Pelican pilot asked over the channel, getting pings in the affirmative from her passengers. "Good. Now remember: you'll be switching over to the… Converted Phantom," John had a feeling he wasn't the only one that picked up on the pilot's hesitation when using the now official term for the Covenant splinter group, "while we're still up here in space, so be sure your gear is sealed tight, because the cockpit will be closed off when we make the transfer. Take a deep breath, boys and girls: until you get there, you'll all be surviving on the air stored in your armor. As an extra precaution, I'll follow you in until we hit the upper atmo; after that, you're on your own until mission completion. Good luck Marines, Spartan."
Without any further delay, the Pelican lifted off and flew out the hanger, heading for the predetermined rendezvous point more or less halfway between the Autumn and the Converted fleet. The trip went by in silence, which was expected considering the odds of everyone aboard the dropship returning from their current mission were, in John's experience, particularly low. Still, they were taking possible death or dismemberment on an alien battlefield rather well all things considered, which, again, was to be expected. They were Marines, and besides that, everyone on the Autumn had already managed to avoid death at least twice – the glassing of Reach being one, and what should've been an ambush by a vastly superior Covenant fleet waiting for them on the other side being the other.
Instead… they were here, working with that same fleet of Covenant to stop other Covenant from activating an ancient Forerunner installation capable of destruction on an unprecedented scale, if what little they knew about it was accurate, or could even be trusted considering it came from the Covenant themselves.
It was moments like these that made John wonder how much the UNSC really knew about the internal structure of the enemy they'd been fighting for nigh on thirty years.
"Approaching the rendezvous point. Are all of you mission ready?" the pilot asked them, a note of trepidation in her voice if John wasn't mistaken.
Her answer was given by Marine Sergeant Major Avery Johnson, who was put in charge of both squads by Keyes thanks to the man's near unmatched combat experience, which was only surpassed by John himself. "We most certainly are, ma'am! I can't speak for the Chief, but my Marines are geared for a trip to hell and back, if need be."
"Good. Spartan?"
"I'm mission ready as well, ma'am."
"Alright. Thirty seconds out; get ready for transfer."
A series of pings in the affirmative answered her, and John made a quick check over his suit's seal integrity just to be sure. Just like the last time he checked, they were still in perfect working order.
"Depending on what we find down there," Cortana started speaking in his helmet, meaning he was the only one currently hearing her, "there's a chance we'll need that firepower. I tried hacking into the Covenant battlenet before we boarded the Pelican. Thanks to that AI, I wasn't able to go too far in or stay for very long, without attracting unwanted attention anyway, but it was enough to locate some of the information related to the Covenant forces on the ground. Most of their gun emplacements are handled by Converted airstrikes, but there's a series of AA guns keeping the downed cruiser's grav lift safe from attack by air, and they still have enough Ghosts and Wraiths to keep their opponents occupied on the ground for a few hours. I don't like this, Chief; there's not enough information to go on."
"Captain Keyes allowed this mission to take place. I doubt he would have if he had doubts as to its importance," he responded, similarly having turned off his helmet mic.
"Fifteen seconds," the pilot informed them all over the comms.
"I know that… I'm just worried that we'll be stepping into something we didn't bargain for," was the last thing Cortana said before switching over to the group comm channel and relaying Captain Keyes' orders. "All of you were informed of the mission parameters: Track down and kill the Covenant leadership in conjunction with a team of Elite SpecOps; don't take unnecessary risks; and wherever and whenever possible, collect intelligence information regarding the Covenant, the Covenant splinter faction known as the Converted, and the ring station we'll be deployed on, referred to as Halo by the two Covenant forces."
"Don't worry ma'am, we know our orders. Play nice with the split-jaws and shoot any Covenant except the ones shooting at other Covenant, while keeping an eye on everything around us and remembering the details. Just another day in the service," Sergeant Johnson told her, earning a huff or two from the other Marines.
"I'll handle any doors or computer systems as we go, so all you need to do is worry about shooting things. After all, I have it on good authority that Marines excel at that," Cortana told him in turn, similarly getting a couple huffs, while a few other Marines affectionately patted their weapons at her words.
"We've reached the meetup point. The Converted Phantom is waiting for the transfer; we're making sure they're ready to receive you as we speak. Anyone not yet sealed for vacuum?" the pilot asked them, ending the somewhat jovial atmosphere as if it had never existed.
After a brief pause where everyone made one final check, Johnson answered for the group. "Ready and waiting ma'am."
"Confirmed. Opening bay door in 5… 4… 3… 2…"
Avery would admit in the privacy of his own mind that if someone had told him just two days ago that he'd be working with, and fighting alongside a group of covies that left the Covenant itself over some sort of religious squabble, while delving around the insides of a Forerunner ring world and/or super weapon, all the while acting as support for an actual God damned Spartan, this particular Spartan being one of the best, and definitely the most famous of humanity's super soldiers, well… first he'd laugh at whoever told him that. Then he'd probably bark at them to not drink while on duty. And yet, here he was…
Avery figured that he must have royally pissed somebody or something off to end up in a situation like this.
He wished he could be listening to some of his Flip music at the moment, and smoking one of his good ole' sweet williams cigars; but alas, he didn't dare remove his helmet on this 'Converted Phantom'. Mainly because of the company that was occupying it along with them.
Johnson was smart and professional enough to keep his eyes fixed off into space and not focused on their "hosts," and he could see the Chief doing the same out of the corner of his eye; but the Marines were all fidgeting and trying their best not to stare. The only other exception was their Chair Force PJ, Master Sergeant Patterson, who was checking his various medical equipment and his portable organ cloning station; while pocketing a crucifix and a scalpel into his carry pouch.
The Elite SpecOps were all dismissive at best of the humans in the phantom, and Johnson could tell that it grated on the Marines and their pride.
Click-Clack.
Johnson fought down a snort as he muted his helmet's external speakers and brought up a private line to Patterson. "What's up?" He asked, making sure that he gave no external indications that he was talking in the private confines of his helmet.
"What do you think?" Patterson asked, his soft, whispering Irish accent tinged ever so slightly with a hint of unease.
"Of the split-lips, the jarheads, or the situation in general?" Johnson asked, checking his MA5 for what felt like the tenth time on the trip.
"Yes." Patterson replied, and Johnson could practically hear the man's smile in that particular response.
Johnson sighed, and rapidly fired off his thoughts. "I'm not happy, but I can keep my lid on since the situation calls for it. The Jarheads… well one of them is going to say something stupid and probably get a broken jaw, if we're lucky. As for the whole situation…" He paused. "It's honestly something that your sister would come up with during one of her all night writing sessions." He said.
"Hm… reality tends to be stranger than fiction." Patterson agreed. "Still, I'm not looking forward to potentially doing surgery on the split-lips; given what little I know about their physiology. Well, other than where to shoot for the most internal damage anyway."
Johnson just grunted, then noted Private Dubbo (better known as Chips) shifting slightly and looking like he was about to say something; and Johnson sighed, knowing from experience that the Marine was about to say some kind of smartass remark. "Here it comes." He grumbled.
"I'm not resetting his jaw once it gets dislocated." Patterson agreed, deciding to watch the inevitable trainwreck.
"So…" Chips began in his distinctive Australian accent, "why is it you particular split-jaws were the ones to be sent with us?"
Johnson swore he could hear the low noise of the engine running in the background with how quiet it got, and he desperately had to resist the urge to smack the idiot himself.
As for the Elites, they just glanced at each other before the one apparently chosen as the speaker stepped up. "Our skill was noted by our superiors."
"Well ain't that just lovely. So you bastards are good at your jobs then?"
The speaking Elite tensed, obviously having understood the blunt insult for what it was, while his fellows shuffled into the start of what Avery recognized as a ready stance. "We are, human," the alien said, deceptively calm, not budging an inch.
"Wonder what your 'job' was up 'till recently…" Chips continued, and rather than let it escalate, Johnson decided to step in, speaking over the squad channel instead of an open one so as not to let the aliens listen in.
"That's enough Private Dubbo! We're here to shoot the other covies, not these ones. Understood?" Johnson ground out, taking a step between the Marine and the Elite that he had been taunting.
Chips looked like he was about to protest, when Patterson set a hand on the younger man's shoulder and tilted his head. Chips froze, and Johnson had to fight down a smirk. Patterson loved to play up the 'creepy doctor' personality with the lower enlisted men; and it came in handy whenever the Master Sergeant needed to defuse a situation without causing a scene.
"Private." Patterson said in his whispering voice, and Chips promptly shivered before turning to face the PJ.
"Yes Master Sergeant?" He asked.
"I'd like you to hang back with me and assist with any potential casualties." Patterson said, his soft voice nonetheless seeming to carry throughout the Phantom, in spite of the fact they were all speaking over their internal comms instead of out loud. "You have steady hands, and that is… useful."
Chips paled slightly, and glanced at Johnson, who only grinned back at him through his helmet's visor. "I think that's a great idea, Master Sergeant. It'll give ya some good practice Private."
"Y-yes Sergeant Major, yes Master Sergeant…"
"Anyone else have something they wanna say during our ride there?" Avery asked the other Marines, getting silence in return. "No? Too bad. And here I was hoping I'd get to chew into two mouthy privates instead of one. Now, with that taken care of, just remember to keep a damn lid on it; we're here to kill those Covenant sons'a bitches before they wipe out the galaxy, not get into a fistfight with their estranged cousins."
He left it at that, privately fighting the urge to shake his head. Just another day in the service indeed…
As the teams progressed towards their objective, Cortana hopped into the various spy drones that Keyes had deployed over the area; trying to see if the 'Converted' had indeed kept to their part of the deal so far.
She was not sure what emotion she felt when she saw that they had in fact held up their end of the bargain; but relief was definitely part of it. A battalions' worth of Covie troops were engaged with a similarly sized force of Converted on the beachfront; the former having dug in like ticks in spite of the sand hampering any serious fortifications.
Shifting attention back to her Spartan and the group of Marines and Converted SpecOps with him, she quickly tapped into a private commlink between Sergeant Major Johnson, and Master Sergeant Patterson, mainly to get a handle on what the two leaders of the Marines were feeling.
"Avery, potential movement on the North side."
"I see it Jimmy. Check the South side to make sure nothing's sneaking up on us."
"Already on it… Potential cloakers would have a field day here."
Cortana quickly zoomed in on the area to double check to make sure she hadn't missed anything, and was glad to see that the Marine and Airman were just paranoid; their nerves making them jump at shadows. Though she had to give them credit, they made sure to keep their fears to themselves so as to not fray the other Marines' already badly tempered nerves.
"Oh Shi-!"
Alarmed, Cortana quickly hopped into the Chief's helmet to find out what was happening just in time to see one of the Marines step in the wrong place and go tumbling down a small drop; landing on his leg wrong and twisting it badly.
To his credit, the Marine managed to contain his pain to mere hissing and whispered curses; though the Chief, Patterson, and Johnson were on the man within seconds of his fall.
"Are you alright Marine?"Patterson asked, his whispering voice soothing for once; as opposed to being unnerving.
"I'm good…" The private replied, his ID showing his name to be PFC Wallace Jenkins, holding his leg. "I don't think it's broken."
Patterson broke out his medical scanner from his field surgery kit while the Marines and SpecOps set up a perimeter, the Chief keeping his eyes outwards, while Johnson scowled down at the man.
"Let this be a lesson, Jenkins," Johnson almost growled over the comms. "Watch where you step!"
"Yeah… got that Sarge…" Jenkins grumbled as Patterson put away the scanner and set a flexing splint.
"This should allow you to retain 80% mobility, while keeping your leg in shape until the docs back on the ship can get a better look at you." Patterson stated simply, already standing and packing his kit up with practiced ease; sweeping the area with narrowed eyes.
Johnson kneeled down and helped the injured Marine to his feet, grumbling under his breath the whole time. "How combat effective is he, Jim?"
"90%... nothing too strenuous and he should be fine." Patterson replied, frowning and shifting his DMR slightly. "Something… feels off."
"Agreed." The Chief's rasping voice startled everybody, even Cortana, who did the AI equivalent of a flinch before she recentered herself. This was, after all, the first time he'd said anything since they landed.
"What do you mean Chief?" she asked.
"Covenant security has been light, considering the importance of the location," he answered; and wanting to see what he meant, Cortana had one of the drones send her an overview of their target destination.
Fairly normal layout for a Covenant held position: jackal sniper towers, a few Ghosts… wait.
Zooming in with the drone's camera, she took a long look at the apparent doorway. Sure enough, .00032 seconds later she arrived at a conclusion.
"The defenses are Covenant standard, but they appear to be severely undermanned. Perhaps most of the defenders are already inside the structure, or maybe holding off the assault on the beach?" she told them.
A moment came and went as the squad leaders and Spartan thought it over.
"It's possible," Johnson eventually admitted. "But either way, we shouldn't let our guard down. Let's keep moving."
Almost as soon as he made the decision, the Elite SpecOps leader, Jykan, slowly made his way over, plasma rifle held at the ready. Cortana noted the Chief's muscles tensing via the suit's sensors for a fraction of a second at the movement, but it passed just as quickly as it came, and he was back to silently glaring at the alien instead of getting ready to kill it; not that anyone besides Cortana was able to tell what he was doing behind the helmet.
"Is there an issue, Sergeant Johnson?" the Elite asked in the species' typical smooth baritone, knowing the man's name thanks to being told ahead of time who'd be leading the Marines for this mission.
"One of my troops just had a slight misstep is all. It won't cause any trouble."
The Elite stared impassively at Johnson before seeming to shrug, only to then straighten up somewhat and turn his head off to the side for a moment as if talking to someone. Whatever it was, it didn't take long to say.
"Understood then, Sergeant Johnson. If you wish, one of my warriors can act as their protector if we are forced into an open engagement. You humans tend not to have any personal shielding; discounting the demons that is – pardon, Spartans," the Elite offered, only correcting himself at catching the general tenseness it caused among the Marines to hear one of their best called such a thing by an alien that, to them, was as close as could be to an actual demon.
"Well, at least he's polite,"Cortana mused quietly to Chief, busy multitasking her various processes in an attempt to locate any potential ambushes along their path.
"Sarge?" Jenkins muttered in question, trying to make it seem like his minor injury was no issue.
"*sigh* Dammit…" Johnson cursed under his breath, before speaking up for the Elite to hear. "Fine. You can have one of your… warriors guard him, so long as they don't get in the way."
If the insinuation that they'd get in the way was noticed by the alien, he didn't show it. Instead, Jykan nodded and turned his head to one of the other SpecOps, the one in question a little bulkier and taller than the others. A short exchange over their own private comms later, and the large one moved to place themselves in front of Jenkins; just enough to physically cover him if necessary without being in the direct line of fire for the Marine in question.
"Alright people," Johnson began, rolling his head around until he got a satisfying crack from his neck, "listen up. Silent takedowns on the sentries, keep your eyes open for any intel, and make sure to avoid…" he glanced briefly at the squad sized group of Elites just a few feet away, "friendly fire. Are we clear?"
"Yes sir, Sergeant!" was the two Marine squads' collective response, albeit relatively muted given the operation guidelines.
"Good. Move out, Marines!"
"Still nothing of importance?" Jykan asked the cloaked warrior scouting ahead of them, the humans having their demon – Spartan, he had to remind himself – do the same.
"Nothing so far, Major. Just another Unggoy sentry sleeping on duty… correction, one less Unggoy." There was some amusement in the warrior's voice as he said it. "The demon works quickly."
He found himself scoffing quietly at that. The Spartan had already counted for almost half the combined mission kills thus far, while Jykan himself was a distant second, followed in third by the human squad leader, Johnson, who was surprisingly capable for a normal human in Jykan's experience. "Indeed."
Of the many things that changed after having awakened Him and getting sworn into His eternal service, the clarity it provided in regards to the humans was one thing Jykan didn't expect. They were just another race in the galaxy looking to survive and thrive, just like the Unggoy, Kig-yar, or even the Sangheili themselves. And exterminating them simply because the Prophets ordered it so was unforgivable. So said his God, and his God was always right.
Something about that last thought troubled him, but he shoved it aside to focus on the mission at hand.
"Are we any closer to the targets?"
A moment came and went before he got a response.
"The human construct aiding us informs me that the Covenant leadership are most likely no longer here."
"What? Explain."
Another moment passed before Jykan received an answer. "It has been monitoring the local communications network since we arrived, and not once has there been a mention of any officers of high enough rank to qualify as commanding the crashed battlecruiser. What it has learned, however, is that they were in this complex prior to our arrival, and discovered a map of the Halo further in. Your orders?"
He spent a few seconds thinking it over, still keeping his attention on the area around him, wary of a potential trap, before replying. "Continue forward. If they found a map of this station stored here, then so must we if this is to be considered a successful mission."
"By your order, Major," the SpecOps confirmed, ending the transmission.
I just hope that the Covenant have not already learned how to activate this Halo… because if so, then we have already lost…
Johnson frowned as the ragtag group entered the security room of the facility.
It was empty… and that really made the experienced Marine nervous. "Alpha Squad, cover our exit; Bravo squad, fan out and set up crossfires. I'm not liking the feel of this place," he ordered.
The marines moved to follow his instructions, while the Converted Elites moved to take similar positions with nothing more than a jerk of the head from their leader. That in itself only set his nerves off further, mainly due to the almost robotic precision the Elites carried out the wordless order.
It reminded him of the Spartans almost.
Patterson came up to his side, having slung his DMR while tapping his pistol; before glancing at Johnson and tapping the side of his helmet where his eyes would be. "Eye's up" was his silent message.
Johnson just tapped the base of his skull in response. "Watch my six."
The Chief and the Elite leader… Jykan (just thinking the name left a bad taste in Avery's mouth), walked up to the center console that dominated the room; looking up at the holograms and the keys that made up the interface. "Is this it?" The Chief asked, presumably to Cortana.
"Yes, plug me in and I'll see what I can find." The AI responded, sounding almost… eager; to which Avery really wanted to be surprised at, but he wasn't.
Johnson had met Doctor Halsey and a young Master Chief during the planning stages of Operation: Silent Storm, and in a conversation with Keyes he'd learned just who the young AI's 'Donor' really was. And Avery remembered how excited Doctor Halsey had been at the prospect of analyzing Covenant tech.
Damn… Twenty-Six years. We're all getting old now. He thought to himself.
Refocusing on Cortana as her hologram appeared on the console, Johnson blinked as she immediately held her head; as if suffering from a migraine. "Whooaaaa…" She said, looking stunned. "That was… that was a lot."
"Are you green?" The Chief asked.
"I'm good, Chief." Cortana replied, rolling her eyes in response as the lines of code streaming down her avatar increased in speed; the purple glow lighting up the dim chamber.
Patterson tensed ever so slightly beside Johnson, then seemed to relax.
Avery didn't like that one bit. "Problem?" He whispered, only loud enough for Cortana, Chief, Patterson himself, and the Elite to hear.
"I thought…" Patterson trailed off, narrowing his eyes.
"James?" Johnson pressed.
"I thought I saw something. It's fine Avery, just nerves." Patterson assured him.
Johnson didn't buy that for a second, but just then Cortana said, "Alright, I'm done, yank me."
The Chief stepped forward, and just as he did so Patterson whipped his magnum out so fast that it was a practical blur. Avery knew that his friend had perfected his quickdraw, mainly due to the number of times that he'd needed to draw it while doing surgery on a patient while under heavy fire. Avery was a split second behind him, bringing his assault rifle up and pointing it in the vicinity that Patterson had drawn his sidearm.
You could hear a pin drop in the chamber in that moment, and the Chief broke it by drawing his own assault rifle with one hand; and yanking Cortana out of the system with the other, inserting her back into his helmet. "Master Sergeant?" The Chief asked, his voice as cool as a cucumber.
"I saw something move in the shadows." Patterson growled. "Must have given us the slip."
Johnson ground his teeth. "Eyes up Marines, we aren't alone here."
"I would suggest we leave." The Elite, Jykan, advised. "We have what we came for, there is no reason for us to remain."
"Agreed. Move." The Chief ordered.
Slowly, one by one, the Marines and Elites started to move out of the chamber; the Chief, Jykan, Patterson, and Johnson bringing up the rear.
No one said anything, but as they left, Cortana whispered; "I have a bad feeling about this…"
Well then. One chapter down, who knows how many more to go. Oh and the next time I make a promise saying when I'll post a chapter, just smack me upside the head, alright? Might remind me to actually do it instead of losing myself in Skyrim mods and gacha games for weeks on end…
Anyway, back to the story. I know there wasn't really much happening this time, BUT, as you can probably tell, this is just the calm before the storm. No promises on when the next chapter will drop (we saw how well that worked out last time) but just know I am working on it as we speak, and so long as my muse is willing, you can expect it soon. Not before new years, granted, but not three or four months from now either.
Alrighty then, I've got nothing else to say, so I'll hand it off to the man responsible for this actually being released on the day I said it would be.
Pilot A/N: I was happy to help out here, I was actually coming down from a bit of a Halo high due to Halo: Infinites release. And I will say, The Chief and the Weapon? Pure Father-Daughter relationship, nothing will change my mind on that.
Now then, given that I read the books, there were a few things that needed to be changed and edited here when Edge let me in on this little adventure; mainly that Chief and Johnson knew each other (read Halo: Silent Storm for context), and that was about it. Master Sergeant James Patterson is my own little contribution to this story; and his name is an homage to Lt. James Patterson from the Medal of Honor series.
Beyond that, hope y'all enjoyed, and give Edge the love he deserves.
Oh! And Merry Christmas (at the time of this writing at least).
Yes, give me all the love I deserve! Er, I mean, what he said lol. Merry Christmas boys and girls! I hope you enjoyed, and we'll see you next time.