Hello again, everyone, and welcome back to my Halo - MechWarrior/BattleTech crossover. Thank you for your patience. I greatly appreciate your support for this crossover.
With this chapter, we begin the final story arc for this crossover. There are going to be some divergences from the lore, as you will soon find out.
Thank you for your attention to this crossover, and I hope to see you in future chapters.
As always, leave a review and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Halo or MechWarrior/BattleTech franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of Microsoft Game Studios, 343 Industries, Bungie, FASA Corporation, FASA Interactive, Catalyst Game Labs, Pirhana Games Inc, etc. Any material original to the franchises belongs to it's respective developers and publishers. Any material not original to the franchises is of my own invention. I do not own any music listed in each chapter. Any music listed belongs to it's original composers and/or artsts.
Forerunner Dreadnought
Earth
December 12th, 2552
Onboard the Forerunner Dreadnought, Chief knew that it was going to be time to go soon. Looking at the mission timer, he could tell that it wouldn't be long before the Forerunner Dreadnought, which Cortana determined was called the Anodyne Spirit, would begin reentry into the Earth's atmosphere. In fact, he predicted that it would be roughly fifteen minutes before reentry began.
Now, he knew that it was almost time to go. Checking over his gear, he was about to make sure his armor integrity was good to go when he felt the ship vibrate. While not a powerful vibration, the mere fact that there was a vibration told him what he needed to know. Cortana made that clear moments later. "The Star League's firing on the Dreadnought!"
"Can they penetrate the hull?" Chief asked.
"I don't know," Cortana replied. "The Forerunners made their ships out of some pretty tough material. I'd be surprised if they were able to damage the ship, even if only a little bit at all." Another sharp vibration occurred, underscoring her point.
Keying his MILCOM again, Chief said, "This is Sierra-117 to any and all UNSC and SLDF forces, we are inside the unidentified WarShip. Do not fire on our position!" Closing the MILCOM channel, he continued checking over his armor.
Once he was satisfied, he got up and said to Cortana, "We need to get off this ship. Any ideas?"
"Yes," Cortana replied. "There's a hatch nearby that we can use to break out of the Dreadnought. Once we do that, though, we'll have to contend with reentry. I doubt that the Star League or UNSC have enough personnel on hand to send out a recovery team immediately. Marking the hatch on your HUD."
Spotting the hatch, which flashed yellow for a moment, Chief walked over and studied the lock for a moment. After figuring out how to open it, he braced himself before wrenching the lock off and kicking the hatch open. Almost immediately, air that was inside the compartment rushed outside into the vacuum of space. Nearly swept off his feet, Chief managed to hang on, allowing him to look outside.
The moment he did, he could tell just how hard the UNSC and SLDF were fighting to maintain orbital supremacy over Earth. Naval Autocannons, Pulse Lasers, Gauss Rifles and Capital Missiles were being fired off everywhere, almost as though they were deadly confetti at a dangerous party. As Cortana would remark later, it was a deadly version of the Fourth of July, with advanced warheads and laser beams being the fireworks in this case.
It was also clear that the Anodyne Spirit was being hammered by the fusillade of Autocannon shells, Pulse Lasers, Gauss slugs and missiles. A pair of Thunderstorm missiles armed with HEAP warheads smashed into the hull of the Anodyne Spirit. Upon detonation, Chief found that the missiles did deal some damage, but not enough to cause a significant change with the Forerunner Dreadnought. The same went for the Autocannon shells, with only the PPC and Pulse Lasers able to deal more than a minor amount of damage.
"It's time to go," Cortana informed Chief, shaking him out of his observational reverie. "If we wait any longer, we'll be cut off without UNSC or SLDF support." Nodding at her words, Chief looked at the hatch. After determining that it wasn't made out of the same stuff as the rest of the Dreadnought, he took a hold of it and wrenched it – hard.
If there was any sound in space, one would've heard a loud, tearing sound, like a long strip of canvas being torn. The hinges on the hatch snapped like 2x4's, with the hatch being large enough to provide ample coverage for Chief. This should serve as a good reentry shield, he thought to himself, and with good reason. Covenant nanolaminate was good at distributing heat, making it an ideal heat shield.
With the hatch out in front of himself, he threw himself out into the vacuum of space, beginning a long plunge down to the surface of the planet. For a few minutes, he didn't notice any change surrounding himself, with only the WarShip filled vista above his head being any source of change. Then, as he turned his gaze forwards, he caught sight of it: a faint, blue glow that marked the beginning of reentry. "Here we go," he told Cortana.
"If I still had fingers, they'd be crossed," Cortana frowned.
"We'll be fine," Chief replied.
Soon, that faint blue glow grew stronger, changing to a vibrant green color. Then that color became orange, before morphing into an angry, scarlet red color as they plunged deeper into Earth's atmosphere. At the same time, sound began to come back, with a loud, roaring sound, like an intense fire, occupying their senses. Turbulence began to shake them around, threatening to tear the makeshift heat shield away from Chief's iron grip.
Looking at his altimeter, Chief watched it as they continued to plunge into Earth's atmosphere. As he did so, he began to think of a landing strategy. The only way I can see myself, and Cortana, surviving landing is if she over-pressurizes my suit's hydrostatic gel layer at the last possible moment. Either way, if I do survive, I'll probably be unconscious for some time.
Looking at the altimeter, he watched as it reached the five kilometer mark, then the three kilometer mark. As soon as it did so, he violently threw himself away from the hatch, which had now shrunken in diameter until the very tips of his armored pauldrons were exposed, melting away the Advanced Armore present there. "Cortana," he ordered, "overpressurize the hydrostatic gel layer at the last possible moment. That's the only way we'll have any chance of survival."
"Got it," Cortana replied. "I hope this works."
"Me too." As they continued to plunge into Earth's atmosphere, Chief watched as the altimeter went from three kilometers, to two, then to one point five kilometers. Off in the distance, he spotted a mountain that he recognized from earlier. Kilimanjaro. We're in Africa, likely near New Mombasa.
As he thought this, he felt himself veer away from the Anodyne Spirit, towards a jungle in the nearby region. Soon, the altimeter went to nine hundred meters, then six hundred, five hundred, four, three, then two. As soon as the altimeter read 100 meters above ground, Cortana immediately over-pressurized the hydrostatic gel layer, while locking Chief's armor at the exact same time.
° Then, just nanoseconds after the hydrostatic gel finished over-pressurizing, they impacted. The impact was incredibly hard, with Chief losing consciousness the moment he smacked into the ground. Rocks and wood flew into the air, with a tree in the way hit with such force, it was reduced to splinters within milliseconds. His limbs, however, remained firmly frozen in place, with the SLDF/UNSC locks being stressed in ways that the designers never envisioned. The shock of impact was so bad, that even Cortana put herself into an emergency standby mode, fearing that the shock was so bad, that the computer matrix in the armor might be damaged. After that, she didn't perceive anything.
. . .
Six Hours Later
If there was one place that Sergeant Avery Johnson hated more than any on Earth, it was the jungles surrounding Mount Kilimanjaro. Part of that was due to the humidity, which would make rather bearable temperatures seem as though one was standing in the middle of Death Valley, located in the region that once belonged to the United States of America. That wasn't a problem, thankfully, since the SLDF manufactured armor they wore kept them comfortable.
The reason why Johnson hated this particular area, though, was the density of the forest itself. The jungles surrounding Kilimanjaro were one of the few places left on Earth that Man hadn't been able to conquer, mostly due to it's isolation and distance from civilization. That meant that Mother Nature had this entire area to herself for almost all of recorded human history, with only recent times being where she began to lose her grip in this area.
As such, the forest was not only old, it was quite dense as well. The team found that they had to move through areas that were literally filled with brambles and thick brush, with the only way to cut through being a sharpened machete made out of the same stuff the SLDF made their combat knives from. While it was sharp, the fact they had to cut a path to their destination slowed their progress down considerably.
"Fucking brambles and undergrowth!" a Marine grumbled. "Why couldn't we have developed this area more? Even a simple dirt road would be easier to move along than this jungle shit."
"Tell that to the politicians," another Marine replied. "They're so damn stingy with their money that you'd be lucky to even get the funds to build a simple dirt road here. The war hasn't made things any easier too."
"Yeah, I guess you're right," the first Marine conceded.
"Come on," one of the SLDF soldiers they were with added. "At least you're going somewhere new. Besides, it's not as if whatever crash landed here is going to be moving."
Johnson, who was currently cutting through a thick bramble, was about to add his own words to the conversation when, upon taking a step forwards, he fell ass over teakettle. He landed with a loud, "OOOOFFFFF!" onto the ground, the visor of his helmet being the only thing stopping him from getting a mouthful of dirt into his mouth. Getting up, he wiped off the visor.
"You OK?!" Jenkins, one of the Marines, asked him. "Sergeant?!"
"I'm fine," Johnson replied. "Quit fussing, Jenkins. A little fall won't -" He stopped mid-sentence when he saw what he was standing in. It's an impact trail, he realized. "Marines, fall in!" he immediately ordered. "I think we're onto something!"
Almost immediately, with mechanical precision, the Marines fell in line, dropping down the rim of the impact trail before advancing forwards behind Johnson, rifles at the ready. As they advanced, Johnson looked around. "Whatever made this didn't come down all gentle like," he remarked.
"I can get behind that," Jenkins replied. "Look at that tree! It was shattered by the force of impact! How far did this thing fall?"
"Two kilometers, easy," another Marine replied. "That's the only height where I can imagine an impact like this doing damage."
As they continued onward, Johnson spotted something up ahead. It was charred, and had streaks of carbonized material, but the slight glint told him that it was metal. Dropping all pretense of caution, he sprinted forwards, handgun in his hands before coming to a stop. Peering down at the object, his heart fluttered when he saw the familiar symbol of the UNSC: an Eagle with it's wings flared, and the acronym below it's talons.
The moment he saw the gold, if somewhat dirty, visor, he knew who it was. "Jenkins, get the Corpman and technicians!" he ordered. "I think we've found what we're looking for!"
"What is it?" Jenkins asked.
"Not what, who," Johnson corrected. "I think we found ourselves Chief!"
The moment he said this, there was a frantic amount of movement, with SLDF technicians racing forwards, while a UNSC Corpsman came up, an Advanced Medical kit ready in the event they were dealing with a wounded Spartan. Taking out a small computer, the Corpsman went to work. "Corpsman?" Johnson asked, motioning to Chief's arms, which still extended outwards like a pair of hydraulic pistons frozen in place.
"His armor's locked up," the Corpsman explained. "Gel layer could've taken most of the impact, but I don't know…" Pressing a few icons, he and Johnson watched as Chief's limbs went limp, though no signs of life were present.
"Any life signs," Johnson asked.
"I don't know, Sergeant Major…" the Corpsman trailed off. "His armor's computer systems just rebooted, so I can't tell if he's alive or not yet." Nodding at that, Johnson approached the motionless Spartan.
"Get a Garrot in here," he ordered. "Heavy lift gear. We're not leaving him here." Leaning over, he began to move towards Chief's helmet, in order to retrieve Cortana's data chip.
He nearly let out a roar of shock when an armored hand reached up, and gently, but firmly, grasped his armored gauntlet. "Yeah," Chief nodded. "You're not."
"Crazy bastard!" Johnson growled. "Why do you always jump?! Sooner or later, you're going to land on something as stubborn as you are, and I don't do bits and pieces!" Despite the sour tone of voice, it was clear that Johnson was deeply relieved, and happy, to see that Chief had survived. After a moment, he asked, "Chief, is Cortana in there with you?"
"Certainly," Cortana replied.
"Sleep well?"
"No thanks to your Corpsman's prodding, yes," Cortana frowned good-naturedly. "Good to see that the computers in here are intact. I'll have to put in a word for the UNSC and SLDF's engineers when we get the chance. Any other system would've fractured under the stresses involved."
"We got lucky," Chief agreed. He knew from experience that any other system, as Cortana put it, would've shattered under the immense stresses of impact "Armor status?" he asked Cortana.
"Completely ablated," Cortana replied. "The armor must've taken some of the force of impact, though it likely shattered like tempered glass as soon as we hit. We can go into combat, but don't expect any protection once the shields go down."
"Sir, the suit's intact, but all the armor is gone," Chief reported to Johnson.
"Well, we brought along some Engineers," Johnson replied. "They might have some Advanced Armor with them, but right now, let's get you situated."
"Agreed," the Corpsman replied. "Sir, your armor's still in partial lockdown. We'll have to -"
"Already fixed," Cortana replied.
As she said this, Chief thought he spotted something: a slight shimmering in the air. At first, part of him thought that it was a simple heat shimmer, but as he watched it, he noticed that it wasn't behaving the way a heat shimmer should. On top of that, it was moving towards him and the others. Johnson didn't seem to be worried, though, as he nodded at it, with the shimmer fading to reveal a Sangheili.
Immediately, Chief lunged forwards, shoving the others aside. In a fluid motion, he snatched Johnson's handgun from the Sergeant and, in a fluid motion, pressed it against the base of the Sangheili's head. Despite the fact that he had the muzzle of a handgun shoved between his mandibles and against the base of his skull, he remained remarkably calm.
"Chief, wait!" Johnson shouted, a hint of panic in his voice. "The Arbiter's with us!" Placing a hand on the Spartan's shoulder, he said, "Come on, now. We've got enough to worry about without you two trying to kill each other!"
For a moment, it looked as though Chief hadn't heard Johnson, but the words had fully registered, along with some memories. Slowly, he pulled the handgun away, and released his iron grip on the Arbiter's head. In response, the Arbiter clacked his mandibles together, the Sangheili equivalent of a shrug, before saying, "Were it so easy." Looking at Johnson, he said, "We must go. The Brutes have caught our scent."
"Then I guess they like the smell of badass," Johnson nodded. As he said this, the Arbiter handed Chief a weapon. Recognizing the M42D, he grabbed it, but roughly so from the Arbiter.
"Chief," Cortana chided him. "You could be nice about it, at least."
"Nearly three weeks ago, he was an enemy," Chief frowned. "Now he's an ally. I don't trust him."
"War is like that," Cortana countered. "Yesterday's enemy is today's friend. Alliances are like that." While a part of Chief wanted to argue, another part of him recognized the wisdom of Cortana's words. As such, he chose not to reply, knowing it was an argument he wouldn't win.
"First Squad, you're my scouts," Johnson ordered. "Arbiter, watch the Chief's back. Move out! Quiet as you can."
Nodding at that, the others began to move forwards, with First Squad quickly moving ahead. While they weren't as silent as a Spartan, they were very quiet for Marines, as they seemed to fade into the jungle with ease. As they moved forwards, Chief asked, "What's the situation in orbit?"
"We destroyed most of the Covenant WarShips up there," Johnson replied, keeping his voice low as he did so. "Only a handful got down to the planet surface, and even then, they're meeting heavy resistance from our forces. Chernenko's reinforcements made a big help, though they lost a third of their ships since they weren't upgraded. Beyond that, we managed to maintain orbital supremacy, but it cost us a lot of good people."
"Groundside?"
"We're fighting 'em hard."
"Do we have aerial and vehicular support?"
"We've got a couple BattleMechs in the area, as well as a few Combat Vehicles. One has the Engineers were moving towards, though I'll imagine the Brutes are between them and us. I hear that one MechWarrior, Alex, is in the area. We might bump into him later."
Nodding at that, Chief and the others continued to advance forwards. As they did so, Johnson said, "Bravo Team, this is Johnson. We've got him. "Pull back to the evac zone. Over."
"Roger that," came Sergeant Reynold's voice. "Reynold's out."
For the next few minutes, there was silence as the team moved out, weapons primed and ready as they advanced forwards. As they did so, Chief heard a slight whining sound, before a loud, concussive BANG echoed in the air. "I guess we do have air support," Johnson muttered under his breath. "Good."
As they continued forwards, Johnson said, "We're going to split up. Chief, Arbiter, keep moving forwards. Second Squad, you're with me. Chief, keep an eye out for Bravo Team. If the Brutes really are onto us, then they'll be in a heaping of trouble!"
"Got it," Chief nodded. Moving forwards, he crossed a small river, before heading up a rocky path that had a few fallen trees. The Arbiter, who was further up ahead, held a fist up in the air, with Chief stopping. Looking ahead, he spotted the reason why: a pack of Grunts were up ahead, while a Brute wearing what Chief realized was powered armor stood on guard.
"Spread out, whelps!" the Brute snarled. "Find them!"
"Single Brute, plus backup," a Marine noted.
Chief was about to engage when Thel said, "Stay your weapon, Demon. The enemies before us area already dead."
Just as Chief was about to ask, one of the Grunts disappeared under the thick foliage, letting out a loud scream of terror in the process. The others, including the Brute, turned to where said Grunt was. Moments later, another Grunt was yanked under the foliage, then another, and another. Soon, only the Brute was left.
"Come out, you coward!" the Brute roared, firing it's spiker at random spots. Looking behind the Brute, Chief's grip on his rifle tightened when he saw something moving behind the Brute. In an explosion of movement, a large mass of what looked like slime leaped out from behind the Brute, enveloping it inside of it's semi-liquid flesh within milliseconds. Before the Brute could react, it's head was roughly twisted to the right, a loud SNAP echoing in the jungle.
Chief was about to fire when the Arbiter said, "No, Demon! He's a friend."
"Who?" Cortana asked, while Chief watched the slimy mass move towards them. Stopping, it seemed to bunch up, bulging upwards until it was around the Arbiter's height. What happened next legitimately surprised both Cortana and Chief.
As soon as the dark blue mass of gelatinous material was around Thel's height, it began to coalesce into something solid. Limbs and mandibles bulged out of appropriate regions on the mass' face, while the entire gelatinous mass began to solidify. Within ten seconds, the gelatinous mass of flesh had been replaced with a Sangheili that was taller than the Arbiter. Chief immediately noticed some anomalies, from the tail that extended out behind the Elite, to the horns that grew out of it's head, to it's unusually prominent musculature.
"Whoa," one of the Marines gasped.
"Did… I just see that?" Cortana asked uncertainly. "Did you see that, Chief?"
"I did," Chief replied. Weapon raised, he asked, "Who are you?"
"Peace, Demon," the new Elite replied, hands held up in a nonthreatening manner. "Lower your weapon, and I will explain." Once Chief did so, the Sangheili bowed slightly and said, "My name is Bero 'Kusovai. I was tasked by the Arbiter to clear out any Brutes that were up ahead."
"How did you do what you… did?" Cortana asked.
"I will explain at a later time," Bero replied. "To summarize it, the Parasite attempted to infect me, but failed to do so, while inadvertently granting me gifts that I have been putting to good use." Looking at the Arbiter, he said, "The way forward is clear. The Brutes are so arrogant that eliminating them was a simple matter. I will go now, to ensure that the Demon can reach the MechWarrior with ease."
As he left, Chief asked, "I take it he was referring to the Flood, yes?"
"Yes," Thel replied. "Bero was infected by the Flood, but somehow, he managed to overcome the infection through force of will alone. One of my friends, R'tas 'Vadum, witnessed the entire thing. Bero was driven into madness by the Parasite, and it was only because of his family that he healed from the experience, if not completely though." Frowning, he said, "We will speak more of this later, Demon. Right now, we must leave."
"Agreed." Even with that answer, Chief still wasn't satisfied. How did Bero manage to resist the Flood? Is he still a threat? Questions like that bounced around in his head, even as they proceeded forwards.
It wasn't long before they reached what looked like a large river in the area. The trees here had been cleared out, with polycrete structures, likely for a hydroelectric dam up ahead, being built here. Well maintained catwalks were present, along with a substation that was up ahead. Here, there had been some fighting, with what looked like large scorch marks and craters in the ground.
It wasn't too hard to see what caused the craters, as Chief could clearly see the source of it standing in the river. Standing proudly at eleven meters in the air was what he recognized as a Marauder, one of the SLDF's favorite 'Mechs. This one, though, appeared to have been customized, as it had a few changes to the weapons on it, as well as a darker paint job. He didn't have to guess who it belonged to, as he heard a voice say, "Hello there, Chief. How do you like my handiwork?"
"Alex," Chief greeted simply. "I take it you've done well?"
"Yes," Alex replied. "Those damn Brute freebirths are more arrogant than a Clan Jade Falcon Star Colonel. They thought they could hurt my beautiful 'Mech with their weapons. I merely educated them on the error of their ways, using Autocannon shells and PPC's." After a moment, he said, "I would love to chatter with you, but right now, Admiral Hood requests your presence in New Mombasa. The Covenant are hitting that place hard. You will be refitted once you get to the base there."
"Noted," Chief nodded. Spotting the nearby Pelican, he clambered into it, with the door closing behind him. With that, Alex and his 'Mech moved out, while the Pelican began lifting off, it's destination: New Mombasa.