Disclaimer: None of the characters from Halo, Halo 2, or the Halo books are mine.
A/N: Sorry for the long wait guys, but I've been busy since two months before exams (since like April) and I'm working every day this summer. The weekends are devoted to my friends, parties, and video games, so I really had no time to write...once again, sorry.
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Halo 3: The Fall of the Covenant
Chapter 20
Heart of the Infection
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A shotgun boomed and a shell dropped to the ground with a clink, which no one heard. The Flood form did a back flip in midair as the shot flipped him end over end until it hit the ground. Another form jumped and was put down by a staccato of assault rifle rounds.
"I'm out! Cover me!" cried Kelly as she dumped her assault rifle and picked up a shotgun. Two sniper rounds rang out from Linda's sniper rifle, which put down a Flood controlled Warthog as they penetrated its fuel tank and engine. The resulting explosion vaporized the Flood inside and around the Warthog.
"Whoever said snipers were ineffective against these monstrosities was dead wrong," muttered Linda as she lined up her next shot. John shot her an admiring look before putting the last shotgun round from his shotgun into a Flood form. He fell back as Kelly took his place.
Then something suddenly clicked in his mind. The high-pitched ringing wasn't just his ears. It couldn't be. Not this loud. No, it had to be something else, something Covenant made. He looked up, trying to locate the source of the whining. Then he spotted it. In the distance, six tiny dots were approaching.
"We got more company! Six Phantoms approaching from the south! Hold you fire until, or if, they fire on us. We can't be sure if they're enemies or allies."
"Well, they're making a beeline straight for us, so they probably know we're here," said Cortana. A momentary lull appeared in the battle, allowing the Spartans to reload and rest a bit. "They're pinging us."
"Who is it?" asked John. "Are they friends?"
"It's the Arbiter, they've come to rescue us!"
"But with those Phantoms and the extra troops they'll be dumping, we'll have enough firepower to push back the Flood and rescue the Marines!"
"No! Evac is key! We want you alive, and if the Spartans are dead, the Flood won't matter anymore!" There was a note of unreasoning panic in her voice.
"Cortana..." Something was wrong with her. Her programming made her able to sacrifice the Spartans in order to achieve a goal. That was her primary objective, to achieve an objective. The survival of the Spartans was only at a Beta Command Level. Although his mission was to find out what happened to this city and rescue its inhabitants, it is a bit late for that. He wouldn't leave without the Marines though.
"Your lives depend on this evac, Chief."
"Cortana, you forget your place. I'm here to make decisions, and you're here to give advise, don't forget that," said John, uncharacteristically harsh. This brought Cortana up short.
"Well, if you're going to be that way..."
"I am."
"Fine," said Cortana. John felt her presence slowly melt away from his mind. He sighed, frustrated and confused by Cortana's behaviour. He then gathered himself together. "Spartans, the Phantoms are friendlies. Do not fire upon them."
"Roger that!" said Fred.
John opened a COM channel to the Phantoms. "This is Spartan-117, is that you, Arbiter? Over."
A second later, a deep voice that was unmistakably the Arbiter's came back. "It is I, the Arbiter. We have come to rescue you."
"No, with your help, we can destroy the Flood in this city. We can't afford to let them escape and run rampant on Earth."
"Your words are true. We shall aid you in the extermination of the parasite. We shall come to you now."
"Good, see you then. Over and out."
The Phantoms flew at the Spartans with guns blazing, blasting Flood warriors into bits. The Flood all turned their concentration on the Phantoms. Infected marines fired their weapons at the dropships, but to no avail...until a rocket was launched at one of the Phantoms. The shot was on target, and one of the three plasma turrets fell to the ground, useless. The Phantom reeled but managed to stay in the air.
"Linda!" barked John.
"On it, Chief!" She levelled her sniper rifle and took aim. A single bullet was all that was needed to penetrate the rocket launcher. The remaining round in the launcher detonated, blowing the Flood wielding it to bits.
The Phantoms surrounded the building and unleashed hellish gouts of plasma upon the Flood. Even the Flood, with their minimal intelligence (or perhaps an outside source told them to retreat), sensed that it would be a waste of resources to continue the attack, so they fell back. A Phantom hovered over the Spartans and two Elites came down to greet them.
"Spartans. It is...good to see you alive," said the Arbiter.
John smiled. "Still not used to us being allies eh?"
"Not completely, although I have to admit, it is much more satisfying killing the Jiralhanae and the parasite than facing you Humans."
"All right, enough pleasantries, let's decide on a course of action," said John.
Both Elites nodded, and the one with half of his mandibles missing spoke. "From the air, we saw a massive structure in the middle of the city with parasitic mould growing on it, and the parasites' spores are already filling the air around it." He withdrew a holoprojector and displayed the image for the Spartans to see.
"Probably the Museum of Alexandria, judging from the design." John went over the schematics of the city. "That's the sector of the city Sergeant Johnson was supposed to investigate. We must go there to rescue them," said John.
The Arbiter and the other Elite exchanged glances. "Sounds workable, what do you think, Hakamamee?"
"I will stand by whatever you decide, Arbiter," said the Elite known as Hakamamee.
"I want your honest opinion on this, Klasz. Tell me what you think, as a friend."
The SpecOps Commander stood still for a while. Then he finally spoke. "If this was a week ago, I would have said let them die, their lives matter not to us." Fred involuntarily took a step towards Hakamamee.
"Relax Fred, let him finish." The Master Chief extended an arm in front of Fred.
"But this is not a week ago. During the past week, I have seen many horrors, and realized that the Humans were not what the Prophets led us to believe."
"Then it's decided, let's move!" The Master Chief gave his team a few short, crisp hand signals. The Spartans boarded different Phantoms (for security reasons) and they lifted off towards the nearest group of Marines are...if they were still alive.
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It didn't take the expected five days. It barely took one. Since most of the ships were already ready for departure anyway, it took very little work to round them up.
In the Control Room of the Flagship Divine Visitation, Supreme Commander Rhombr Mahuee stood, ready to give his orders.
"The Fleet of Avenging Retribution is ready and is ready to go on your order, your Highness," his comrade, Lajmir Ramenee, also his second in command, reported.
"Excellent, give them our orders to attack the Sol System. They should already have that information in their databanks. We leave in five."
Ramenee relayed that information to the rest of the Fleet. "Orders given, sire. Anything else?"
"No, you have done well. It's time to put these miserable heretics and their Human friends down...forever."
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"There's nothing but static, sir. Something must be scrambling our signals," Private André Atreides said nervously, trying to send a distress call for the fifth time.
"Keep trying son," said Sergeant Johnson through gritted teeth, while putting a battle dressing on his arm. An overexcited combat form slashed it in the previous skirmish, leaving a sizable gash, but the blood was already starting to clot and the cut was getting smaller by the minute. It still stung, so Johnson decided that it was for the best.
A moment later, Private Atreides leaped up in surprise. "Sir, I think we got something! Listen to this!"
Sergeant Johnson ran over to Atreides's position and listened, trying to determine what the other people on the other side were saying.
"-close to landing, Ar – static – can see the – static – touchdown! May the – static – you!" Then the radio clicked, and nothing else came out of the static.
"What do you think, sir?"
"You know what I think? I think we're about to get some company, alien or Human, friend or foe, I don't know, but lets get ready."
They had locked themselves in the town hall and barricaded themselves in. After many skirmishes, they finally managed to hold most of the top floor. They lost four good men in the process, who had their spine broken in several places, as well as the brain destroyed, before they were left to the Flood. It wasn't out of cruelty, but necessity.
"Walsh, Matos, Rasmushemty, follow me. The rest of you stay here and guard this floor, I don't want any mess ups." Johnson turned to the three Marines he had chosen. "We're going up to the roof to see who these visitors are."
"Sir! Yes, sir!" saluted the Marines.
The four Marines trooped up to the roof and as soon as they opened the trapdoor leading to the roof, a wave of green spores drifted in.
"Shut it!" coughed Johnson. Rasmushemty immediately shut the door, but it didn't escape the notice of the beings on the other side. A massive dent appeared in one corner of the trapdoor.
"Marines! Retreat!" ordered Johnson, while he aimed his assault rifle at the metallic portal. Another blow and the trapdoor flew off its hinges, right at Rasmushemty's neck. The sound of his neck breaking was drowned out by a shrill scream, which quickly turned into gurgling as blood filled up his mouth. Green mist drifted from the opening and through it, although obscured by the fog, they could clearly tell that the agents of the Gravemind were in the building.
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"Touchdown! May the Forerunners be with you," said the lead pilot as his Phantom rose off the ground and rocketed towards the sky. The Arbiter and Hakamamee were getting the Elites into teams and giving them instructions. The Master Chief took this time to assess the situation. They had to be dumped five kilometres away from the museum since the green mist made flying very dangerous. Not being able to see things twenty metres in front of you while flying at two hundred kilometres and hour isn't the best idea.
"Ready?" the Arbiter asked.
John gave a crisp nod. "Let's go."
They approached the entrance cautiously, but weren't greeted by any enemies. John put up his hand, signalling for everyone to stop. Although the Elites wanted the Arbiter to lead, the Arbiter, with uncharacteristic humility for an Elite, wanted John to be in front because "this 'Master Chief' has seen more combat than I have".
John pointed at Kelly, Hakamamee, and the Arbiter, then at the door. He grabbed a plasma grenade from a bandolier than hung around his waist and primed it. The other three nodded and did the same. Four grenades sailed towards the main entrance of the museum, which was covered with a wall of thick mucus. The grenades latched on and exploded a second later. John's visor automatically dimmed to adjust to the brilliant flash of light. They waited, guns ready, for the Flood that would inevitably rush out from the other side...but nothing came out – odd.
John made another few hand signals – approach slowly and with caution – and he approached the entrance in a half-crouch, shotgun ready. His two sword hilts also hung from his armour – courtesy of the Elites. He went in, took a quick look around, and waved the rest of his team in. His team consisted of his Spartans, the Arbiter, the SpecOps Commander known as Hakamamee, and four other SpecOps Elites. The rest of the troops were assigned other duties, such as securing the area around the museum.
John turned on his helmet lamp and took another glance at his surroundings. The Flood had knocked out all the lights, so it was very dark. Add the greenish mist to the mix, and it was almost impossible to see. The other Spartans turned on their helmet lamps as well, while the Elites adjusted their shields to shine more brightly. John mentally noted that fighting in these conditions would suck. Something dripped onto his shoulder, and he reflexively looked up. The barrel of his shotgun followed a second later.
"Dear mother of God..." he whispered. Hundreds of combat forms hung from above them with assorted weapons. Some with nothing but the deadly tentacles on their limbs while others were armed with weapons or various relics from the museum. Some of these relics were nothing but rocks and wooden totems, while others were large broadswords. The latter could be a problem.
A deep rumbling came from nowhere. The rumbling uttered nothing intelligible, at least, not to any of the Elites or Spartans, but the Flood clearly understood it. As soon as the rumbling stopped, the Flood forms all gave an ear piercing wail – a very disturbing sound – and attacked.
"Stay together, don't scatter! Let's try to hold this corner!" he highlighted a portion of the room on his HUD and sent the image to his teammates. The Spartans blinked their acknowledgement lights, and the Elites nodded. A combat form dashed at him with inhuman quickness, and he blew it away with a blast from his shotgun. He mentally noted that he was quickly running out of ammo as he blew another Flood soldier into dust.
A red dot approached him from behind and he turned around to blow it away too. What he didn't expect was for the Flood to jump, and his shot only skimmed the combat form's left foot. The Flood warrior gave a wail of anger and lashed out at John with the thing in its hand. The weapon it was carrying was a four foot long broadsword. John quickly shifted the position of this shotgun to ward off the blow. The force of the attack not only made John lose grip on the shotgun, but also made him lose his footing and fly back several meters. Upon landing, his shields drained by a third. About a foot of the sword broke off and was sent spiralling away, severing the arm off another combat form. It jumped again, ready to deliver the finishing blow. John waited until the last second, before rolling away while activating one of his energy swords. A blinding shaft of light appeared in his hand, and John sliced through the combat form's body without even a slight change in expression – not that anyone could see his face. He deactivated his energy sword and took the broken broadsword from the dead Flood's body. Although the sword was broken, the three feet that remained was still sharp, and could cut through the rotten flesh of Flood easily.
There was no time to search the combat form for other things because other Flood agents were eager to fight. It seemed like hundreds upon hundreds of Flood warriors leaped at John, only to be cut apart by his sword. What was probably minutes seemed like hours as he swung his sword again and again. Bodies fell and amber blood sprayed everywhere. Suddenly, someone screamed, but this time it was different; different from the bloody animal screams of the Flood. This time the scream was human.
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Sergeant Avery Johnson felt a wave of fear and revulsion as a little podlike creature jumped onto Rasmushemty's chest and claimed the dying Marine as its own. His already broken neck snapped back even further and his arms sprouted tentacles. The fear didn't completely overwhelm Sergeant Johnson – I mean, come on, what could? – and the Flood parasite and Rasmushemty were shot dead in a heartbeat.
"Let's get our asses out of here boys," said Johnson as he pointed at the exit. More infection forms came down the hatch as the Marines hastily made their exit. Sergeant Johnson was the last one out and he dutifully locked the door behind him. As they approached their hideout, they heard gunfire.
"Oh shit. Marines, move it out! Double time!" ordered Sergeant Johnson while he steeled himself for the worst.
They sprinted to where the rest of their squad were, but no one was shooting. "What the hell is going on here? I heard gunfire."
"Sir, the sounds started shortly after you left. We've been trying to contact them, but something's blocking our signals...and we don't know if they're friendlies or not," said Atreides.
"Well, it's gunfire, so it's gotta be friendlies. Humans, you know," said Matos irritatingly, as if the fact was obvious and that there could be no other solution.
"Not necessarily, Marine. Those damn Flood guys can use them too. The Covenant can also use them, rare as that is. Don't rule it out entirely."
"Good point, I didn't think of that." Matos's posture seemed to deflate like a balloon.
"Then think before you talk next time, Marine." The Sergeant then turned aside to Atreides and slowly winked at him.
"Yes, sir." Matos looked slightly embarrassed. Atreides stifled a laugh, glad that the veteran Sergeant took a liking to him.
"Now let's keep trying that radio," Johnson assigned two Marines for that job. "The rest of you, take shifts on guarding this place while Matos, Walsh, and young Atreides here and I go find out what the source of that gunfire is."
Sergeant Johnson and the other three Marines filed out the door, intent on find out what is causing the commotion.
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John whirled around, sword in hand, just in time to see tens of hundreds of infection forms take down a much larger form; like wolves working together to bring down much larger prey. Fred's biosigns went haywire, heart rate was going off the charts, and everything was chaotic.
"Fred!" he tried running to him comrade, but was hit from behind by a combat form.
Dammit!
Plasma fire came from nowhere and struck the combat form in the chest, effectively killing it. John looked up at the owner of the rifle.
"Go, help your friend, I shall make sure that the parasite does not get in your way."
John reflexively smiled his gratitude at the Arbiter, then nodded after realizing that the Arbiter couldn't see his face.
"Thank you." He said, before rushing to Fred's side.
By now, Fred's heart rate has slowed down by so much, it was impossible for a normal human to survive in such conditions. His body temperature also dropped by more than ten degrees, and dents started appearing in his armour from the inside out. Almost with tears in his eyes, John discarded his broadsword and drew his twin energy swords.
With a hiss, Fred's helmet snapped off, and clattered to the ground. His neck bent back and turning mouldier by the second. With an inhuman roar it lunged at John. The attack took John by surprise, but he was still somewhat ready. With its strength multiplied at least tenfold by the MJOLNIR armour, what used to be Fred knocked John off his feet. Both suits of MJOLNIR crackled as the shield systems failed. John's two energy swords fell to the ground, yards away from his reach.
Now weaponless, John had to rely on his armour, his body, and his reflexes. Although he knew that Fred outweighed him (figuratively speaking), he was still going to fight till the end. All around him, the battle between the living and the semi-living continued on.
Clang! A bullet flew passed his head and hit Fred in the face. A portion of his face flew off as the bullet ripped through his skull. The Spartan-Flood, momentarily distracted, turned at its attacker, Linda. With a burst of speed, John crossed the gap between himself and Fred and checked him into the wall. The energy shields on both suits that were trying to regenerate were flattened in an instant.
John latched onto Fred's back and dug his fingers into Fred's armour, trying to find the beast that claimed his long time friend. With surprising flexibility, Fred reached back and grabbed John's arm, then flung him to the ground. Without shields, his armour took the brunt of the blow. He landed face down and a crater appeared where he landed. He coughed, and blood spewed out of his mouth, splattering on the inside of his visor.
The thing that was Fred rounded on him, intent on destroying him once and for all. It cranked its arm back ready to deliver the finishing blow.
Fred...
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A/N: Well, a short chapter, AND the long wait, you guys must hate me for this :-( I'm sorry people, but I've been really busy. After school starts, I'll probably be even busier, so I can't guarantee that I can get the next chapter up fast either. But now for the good news, for me anyway. I'm having a blast. This summer's been great, meeting new people, going out with friends, camping, and all sorts of good stuff. Anyway, cheers! (And please don't hate me :-) )