Chapter Thirty-Nine: Solace and Shadows Pt. III
She put her charges
To arms, gave them unbridled
Determination
Omega
"Take forward! To the line! Move!"
With a cacophony of bellowing war cries twenty Special Forces Sangheili, four Special Forces Asari, two Human mercenaries, and one UNSC Spartan stormed down the ramps of two black-painted Phantom dropships.
The Master Chief's eyes took in the scene. A war-torn intersection, a beleaguered company of Sangheili behind a hastily constructed defensive barrier, and beyond that, the Flood: roaring, enraged, hungry.
His companions charged to the barriers to assist their comrades and the Master Chief followed, but not without a series of rapid-fire, introspective thoughts. He had been charging down the ramps of UNSC vehicles for decades, towards combat, towards the Covenant. He'd fought alongside UNSC Marines, ODSTs, Army soldiers, other Spartans, with civilian police and militias, and the targets that would often enter his crosshairs were Unggoy, Kig-Yar, and Sangheili.
Now here he was, storming off an Sangheili dropship, rushing to a barricade alongside Sangheili, and firing his weapon besides Sangheili, instead of towards them. He'd fought alongside their former enemy before, on the Halo's and on the Ark, but those were unions brought out of the necessity of survival in the face of the Flood.
He looked to the Arbiter, who had beelined towards the commanding officer of this position, a roughed-up Sangheili without a helmet and blood running down from a large gash on the side of his head. As those two started conversing animatedly, Chief thought back to his journey with the Arbiter, rife with enemies, chaos, and hardships. They had defeated the Flood together years past, or so they had thought. Now they were back, embroiling themselves into an entirely new fight, in an entirely new galaxy, yet here was the Flood once again, rearing its monstrous heads.
War never changed, but the Master Chief was an expert on war.
The Spartan found cover behind a large transport vehicle, burned, blackened, and pockmarked, but still sturdy. A black-armored SpecOps Sangheili slammed into the same cover a couple of meters down, his leading shoulder armor leaving a dent in the vehicle's exterior from the speed and force of his approach. It didn't pay to be timid getting to cover while under fire. The two shared a glance, eyes and faces hidden behind polarized visors, then sprung up simultaneously to send fire downrange. Now, in these few seconds before incoming fire would force him back down into cover, the Master Chief was able to get a comprehensive look at the foe.
The galaxy may have changed, the overarching strategic and tactical situations may have changed, the members of whichever specific race who were unfortunate enough to get infected may have changed, but one thing above all remained: this was the same Flood that the Chief knew, the same one he'd killed, the same one that had almost killed him.
The rotting yellow-grey flesh, the grotesque appendage alterations the, erratic, unnatural movements, the sheer, unthinking tenacity - the Master Chief saw those very same familiar characteristics as he looked down the sights of his ACS, sending electric blue hardlight rounds downrange into one of the myriad of targets.
In his peripheral vision cameras Chief saw the regular Sangheili forces begin falling back to the Phantoms waiting a short distance behind them, the Arbiter's team staying behind to provide covering fire. The Spartan kept up the fire, working with the SpecOps Sangheili sharing his cover to suppress their little slice of the engagement sector in front of them. In this case, 'suppressing' meant using superheated plasma and electrified hardlight to destroy oncoming targets with extreme prejudice.
Chief noticed heavy fuel rod blasts cut large swaths through the advancing Flood waves, and he turned his head down the line for a second to see two Mgalekgolo pairs hunkered down behind their shields, in the open, blocking fire with their heavy shields from those Flood who managed to find weaponry and returning the favor when their embedded arm cannons recycled. They weren't falling back with the rest of the Sangheili regulars, information which he stored for later.
For the first time this engagement the Spartan let off the trigger briefly, to give his ACS a chance to vent the building heat from its fully-automatic fire. Chief started firing long bursts instead, noting with grim satisfaction how well the rifle's ammunition was faring against the Flood. At the smaller caliber of round that the Chief had set the rifle to, the hardlight rounds from the Adaptive Combat System burst upon impact, diffusing the substantial amount of kinetic energy right onto the surface of the target. With this current variety of Flood lacking armor or shielding, the hardlight rounds tore flesh, limbs, and connective tissues apart with blasts of electric blue and dead yellow-grey.
The Chief's comms crackled in his ear. It was the Arbiter, transmitting on the team's BattleNet frequency, which Cortana had patched him into.
"Prepare to fall back to the Phantoms," the Arbiter said, and in Chief's HUD the words Lance One popped up in the corner in flashing red. "One, cover fire. Two, go."
Chief, having figured out that he was included in Lance One, continuing to pour fire downrange at selected targets. The Flood, having had their advance stalled by running into the wall of the Arbiter's close air support and coordinated small-arms fire, started regaining their monstrous momentum quickly as the volume of fire from the defenders dipped by half.
The Spartan ran his weapon hot, widening his sector of fire to compensate for Second Lance's departure from the line, sweeping hardlight tracers up and down the roadway-turned-battleground.
The comms scrackled again around when Chief was expecting. The Arbiter's orders were clear and curt, a characteristic of his command style, and one that the Spartan appreciated. "Lance One, go, double time!"
The Master Chief finished putting down one last Flood form then turned and booked it for the two waiting Phantom's behind them. Second Lance had just embarked and were now turning their weapons outwards to provide more covering fire for First Lance's retreat. Black-armored Unggoy door gunners were working their bay-mounted plasma turrets with impressive effect. The Mgalekgolo were moving with substantial speed, one pair headed for each of the Phantoms.
It only took a few seconds before the Sangheili forces had made it back to their dropships, and with the Master Chief being one of the last to embark into the dropbay - further crowded by two hulking Mgalekgolo - he turned and kneeled on the lowered troop ramp of the Phantom. The activation of a magnetic boot helped keep him anchored in place, and he brought his rifle back up to keep putting fire on the Flood as the Phantoms lifted off. His tracers were joined by heavy rounds from the Phantom's ventral plasma cannons, small-arms fire from Sangheili in the bay who could get a firing angle out the side, and the yet still incessant fire from the Unggoy door gunner.
As they gained altitude the whine of the Phantom gravity drives dampened but didn't completely drown out the guttural roars of the Flood below. Some still with weapons aimed high and took immaculate potshots at the new aerial targets, only to be repulsed by the dropship's energy shields and answered by cannon rounds. Most of the Flood, realizing that their latest source of food was now out of reach, rushed forwards in search of more, tumbling over the overturned vehicles and hastily-maneuvered debris of the makeshift defensive line the Sangheili had been fighting to hold.
"They'll soon break upon our defenses further back," said a voice behind Chief's shoulder. He turned his head a couple of degrees that way and saw the Arbiter standing there, Carbine pointing out the open bay, smoke still drifting out from the barrel and side ventilation ports.
"Confident in your soldiers?" Chief asked, eyes still trained on the Flood below them. The two Phantoms were flying yet further into the Parasite's established zone of control, instead of retreating to the main Sangheili defensive lines.
"If I was not, I would have had Fleetmaster 'Vadum burn this station into molten slag long ago," the Arbiter said. "This is a fight we can win. We know the Parasite, you and I better than any."
"We didn't know they'd end up here," Chief countered. "We thought we'd eradicated them on the Ark."
"If only that were true." Underneath his combat helmet the Arbiter pressed his mandibles together grimly, "Nothing is that easy."
"No," the Chief agreed.
The Phantom's intercom crackled. "Forty-five seconds. Rooftop insert."
At that the dropship's occupants started making final checks to weapons and gear before they were once again thrust into combat. Chief did the same, but he had another question to ask the Arbiter.
"Why the effort for the station? Are Sangheili lives worth this?" He motioned with a hand out of the side of the open troopbay, towards Omega's interior. Flood forms were still dotting the streets in ones, twos, and groups, searching for food in their recklessly aimless way, but Chief wasn't referring to them, rather the run-down, grungy, dilapidated buildings, streets, and features of the station itself.
The Arbiter did in fact not think that a single Sangheili life was worth even a hundred lives of Omega residents. He had been just as prepared to order the complete annihilation of the station as he was to save it. "This place is important to the plan," he said.
"The plan?"
"Her plan."
The Spartan twisted his torso so he could look directly at the Arbiter, opaque faceplate to opaque faceplate, one orange, one black. For these two life-long soldiers however, their equipment was as much a part of them as their actual bodies, so it was as if they were both staring directly into each other's eyes.
"The Librarian," the Spartan said. It was a statement, not a question.
The Arbiter's eyes widened slightly behind his visor. "You know of her?"
The pilot's voice came over the intercomm again. "Fifteen seconds. LZ is clear."
The Arbiter and the Chief broke off their gazes, both having an understanding that they would talk more later. For now, there was a mission to accomplish.
Around the troopbay the Arbiter could see a few of his Sangheili giving the Spartan some apprehensive, furtive glances. He understood, of course, the ruthless effectiveness of the 'Demons' during the war against the UNSC, and the reputation they had built up throughout the Covenant. More than a reputation, he knew that some of his soldiers had personally lost comrades and battles due to the efforts of the Spartan Corps. The Arbiter himself had his entire career achievements stripped away by the Prophets after the same Spartan not kneeling a meter away had destroyed Installation 04.
He opened a channel to the few Sangheili he noticed were giving the Spartan that 'look.'
"He's with us. Concentrate on the task at hand," he said, and his soldiers quickly refocused their attention.
The Phantom's drives strained as the pilot flared the craft for a brief touchdown on the roof of their target building, a six story hotel that was at least twice as large as any other building in the area, and provided fantastic sightlines and firing angles in every direction. Large block neon letters, still powered, shone from the hotel's sixth floor outer walls: THE MIRALTA.
The Master Chief was the first one off the dropship, heavy boots impacting the flat, dirty roof with a hefty thud. He advanced several meters, weapon raised and scanning, before kneeling a distance aways from the Phantoms. He was joined on both sides by SpecOps Sangheili as they piled off the dropship behind him, constructing a defensive semi-circle as they disembarked. Chief looked to the other end of the large roof, where their second Phantom was also disgorging its cargo in the same manner.
"First Lance, take the Mgalekgolo and secure and fortify the basement, first, and second floors. Second Lance, take floors three through six. Spartan, Zaeed, Jack, with me a moment," said the Arbiter, striding over to an edge of the roof to get a better look at the surroundings.
As the Master Chief followed the Arbiter, Cortana chirped in his ear. The AI had been uncharacteristically silent since they had arrived at Omega. He wondered if the resurfacing of the Flood was affecting her. He literally couldn't imagine the hardships his closest companion had undergone at the hand of the Gravemind aboard High Charity.
"That has to be Zaeed Massani. He worked with Shepard, back during their fight against the Collectors. So did his partner there, Jack. A Cerberus experimental subject since she was a child… but an incredibly powerful biotic."
More of Shepard's merry band, Chief thought. Zaeed looked grizzled and capable enough - one didn't make it to retirement age as a gun-for-hire without either being very good at what they did, incredibly lucky, or both. He switched his gaze to Jack, eyes fiery and body coiled for a fight. A child experiment… something they had in common.
The four reached the lip of the roof's edge wall, and Chief peered down into the streets below. Even with his armor's suite of advanced sensors, he couldn't detect any Flood forms within 200 meters of the hotel. "Quiet," he said.
Behind them, a quartet of breaching explosives sounded as the Arbiter's soldiers created entryways for themselves. According to the building schematics that Cortana had acquired and distributed to the team, there was no stairway from the sixth floor to the roof, only a small service ladder. For the purposes of rapidly infilling two lances of Special Forces Sangheili and four Mgalekgolo, the ladder would have been entirely inadequate.
"Quiet for now," the Arbiter responded, having looked over his shoulder to check on the progress of his teams, who were falling by pairs into the open holes that were now in the roof - a major leak hazard, if Omega could have rain. "Once the Parasite figures out where we are, and it will quickly, this calm will not last."
The Arbiter pointed to Zaeed. "Where is the warehouse?"
"It's underneath that one." The mercenary extended an arm over the lip of the roof, pointing towards a specific building about four hundred meters south, the large structure easily visible. "The Miralta, that warehouse, and every building in line between the two are owned by the Eclipse gang. About fifty years ago a fissure sunk the old warehouse down into the ground quite a ways, and the Eclipse, clever as they were, decided to build a new warehouse on top of the old one, but still kept the old one in service."
"Lawful business above, nefarious criminality below," added Jack, referring to the specific usages of each warehouse.
"That's right. This hotel and those warehouses are major intake and distribution centers for all kinds of shit. Drugs, guns, contraband, trafficked people, you name it, it's passed through there. How you ask?" Zaeed didn't wait for anyone to try and answer the question. "One guddam big network of smuggling tunnels, stretching from here all the way to the warehouses."
"With a Flood Proto-Mind waiting at the end," the Chief said. Suddenly, the Spartan's head swiveled to the right - followed by his rifle. "Contacts."
The Arbiter swung around to look as well, but held up his hand to get the Chief to lower his weapon. "Friendlies."
There were thirty of them, small figures in the distance 'hopping' from rooftop to rooftop as they quickly closed in on the Miralta. The Master Chief increased his visor's magnification level, centering in on the lead figure just as the group jumped off the edge of one building, then activated what looked like jump jets to propel themselves through the air to the next structure.
Chief started to wonder why the Arbiter wasn't hailing the group over comms to identify them, but quickly remembered that the Flood Proto-Mind was in some way interfering with the communication channels in its area of control. That in itself was an irritating and dangerous development, but the mission had to proceed regardless.
The upcoming friendlies - identified as Sangheili by the Chief as they got closer, were moving quick and it was only a short while until the first of them was landing on the roof of the Miralta. Not wasting any time, the Arbiter strode over to the first Sangheili and started to address him while the rest of the thirty landed around them. It was obvious to the Spartan now that these were Sangheili Rangers, elite, highly-trained, and highly-mobile infantry.
"Ultra 'Harum!" the Arbiter said, "I thought I had ordered you back to the main line?"
The Master Chief gave the Ultra a harder look, and realized that he recognized the soldier's armor plating. This was the same officer who had been in command of the temporary barricades they had just fought at moments ago.
"Yes Arbiter," the Sangheili replied, "And the line is holding with no effort on my part. I commed Fleetmaster 'Vadum to ask for specificis on your mission, and if you'd need assistance."
"And?"
"He told me where you would be, but reaffirmed your orders for any Sangheili forces to remain behind the main line."
"Orders which you and your Rangers have disregarded," said the Arbiter.
'Harum looked around briefly at the other Rangers, some of which had posted themselves at the edges of the roof on overwatch, the others peering down into the hotel through the holes that the Arbiter's team had blasted in the roof.
'Harum stood, unashamed. "I disregarded them, yes,""Arbiter, I know that if we fail to stop the Parasite here, before it grows stronger, will have to abandon the station. My Sangheili haven't fought and died today just for me to retreat and watch from a viewport as we melt this place to slag."
The Sangheili Ultra motioned to the other twenty-nine Rangers spread along the roof. "We're all volunteers. We know the risk. We're here to fight."
The Arbiter's mandibles widenined into a smile underneath his helmet. He reached out and clasped 'Harum on the shoulder. "A true warrior's spirit."
From another edge of the roof one of 'Harum's Ranger's called out an alert. "Parasite activity! Three hundred meters southwest! At least a hundred forms, heading this way!"
"Must be the group that shadowed us here," 'Harum said, taking a step back from the Arbiter and checking his Plasma Repeater. The thirty Rangers hadn't exactly been discreet when they started jump-jetting from building to building into Flood-controlled territory. A number of combat forms had decided that they would try and follow this new promise of prey, rather than throw themselves at the Sangheili prepared defenses further on.
The Arbiter nodded in understanding. "More will follow. We must act with haste. Position your men as you see fit and link up with Senior Officer 'Sraom. He already knows this, but once we plant the bomb at the site of the Proto-Mind this roof will likely be the only we can extract from. You must hold the hotel until we return."
"Understood," said 'Harum. Without wasting any time he stepped away from his commander and stated barking orders to his men. "First Lance, secure the roof! Second and Third, with me!"
The Arbiter watched as 'Harum and nineteen other Rangers fell through the holes in the roof into the interior of the hotel below, while the command Major of First Lance starting assigning his troops to overwatch sectors.
The large Sangheili turned and craned his neck to address Zaeed Massani. "Bring us to the tunnels."
"I don't suppose I'll be getting paid for this?" With a grunt of exertion, Massani and the Master Chief shouldered aside the large, heavy convection ovens that blocked the way into the Eclipse's smuggling tunnels.
The Arbiter answered the mercenary's question very matter-of-factly."Not being turned into an abominable horror of writhing flesh and bones at the hands of the Parasite should be payment enough."
"So, no then," said Zaeed, frowning.
The entrance to the smuggling tunnels was located in the basement of the Miralta, within the expansive kitchen that previously served all sorts of food to the hotel's residents and staff. The kitchen had clearly been deserted in a hasty fashion, with half-prepared meals sitting on plates and in pots, burners still flaring, and cutlery scattered haphazardly all over. The Arbiter's Sangheili had reported similar scenes throughout the rest of the Miralta, rooms empty and door left wide open, luggage, clothes, and personal belongings having been left behind in what must have been a mad dash by the occupants to evacuate.
Briefly, the Arbiter wondered if his ordered invasion of Omega is what caused the hotel's residents, almost all of which were likely involved in the Eclipse gang, to flee. Perhaps it was the Parasite who forced these people out, maybe it even assimilated some of the poor fools.
Hidden behind the nearly floor-to-ceiling ovens that had just been muscled aside were two large double doors, sealed in the middle by an angry red haptic lock. The Arbiter turned his head and nodded, and a SpecOps Sangheili besides him quickly moved to the door and started affixing breaching charges.
There were nine of them in the kitchen. The Arbiter, five of his Special Operations Sangheili guard contingent, the mercenaries Zaeed Massani and his partner Jack, and the Master Chief. The rest of their task force was spread throughout the Miralta in defensive positions, ready to hold the hotel against the Parasite assault until the Arbiter's strike team could plant the bomb by the Parasite Proto-Mind and return for extraction. Already the high whines of outgoing plasma fire echoed throughout the empty hotel corridors and rooms, accompanied by shouts and barks of orders and status updates from the Sangheili themselves. On the first floor by the main entrances was where the Mgalekgolo were stationed, and the reverberating bass rumbles of their own communications could be felt in the floors of the basement kitchen.
The SpecOps Sangheili setting the breaching charges into the tunnel network stepped back, signalling that he had completed his task. The Arbiter craned his long neck to address Massani.
"What are the chances that the Parasite has discovered this tunnel network?"
Zaeed shrugged. "Anywhere from low to high. Without heavy equipment or explosives, they'd be hard pressed to find a way through the main warehouse door at the end of the network. If they've managed to find some of the less well-protected secondary entrances though…"
"Very well, " the Arbiter said, checking the status of his Plasma Repeater one final time. He had exchanged his trusted Carbine for the Repeater, knowing from past experience that the molten plasma projectiles were devastating against the Parasite. "You two will remain here and contribute to the defense."
Massani nodded. "Fine by me. Guddam' tunnels give me the creeps anyways. C'mon Jack, let's go find somewhere to be useful. Time to earn our 'pay'."
As the pair of mercenaries left the group and bounded up the stairs back into the Miralta, the Arbiter turned to address his strike team. All present were veterans of combat with the Flood.
"Once the Proto-Mind knows we are coming for it, it will send everything it can to stop us. When we blow that door we press hard and we press fast. Cover your sectors, watch each other's back, but most of all, be relentless. The Parasite will show no quarter, and neither will we. Ready?"
The Arbiter's five SpecOps soldiers all gave their various verbal confirmations. The Master Chief just nodded and tightened the grip on his rifle.
"4-3 staggered double line," the Arbiter said, outlining the formation the group would assume in the tunnels. "I am on point. 'Kanom, stay in the center. Spartan, take the rear."
The seven arrayed themselves in the Arbiter's ordered formation. Operative 'Kanom had drawn the special honor of transporting the inverted plasma-matter bomb that would annihilate the Flood Proto-Mind and everything else within a five-hundred meter radius. The bomb was sequestered in a specially-designed armored and shielded hardpack, attached by magnets and tight straps to 'Kanom's back.
The Master Chief was briefly surprised by the Arbiter's order to have him bring up the rear, instead of one of his own Sangheili. Arguable more important than even the point position, the rearmost in a formation had many critical responsibilities. Not only were they supposed to directly cover the formation's six o'clock, it was also their duty to keep tabs on everyone else in front of them, making sure that no one strayed too far and that everyone kept up with the pace set by the pointman. The assignment was a direct portrayal of the level of trust that the Arbiter had in the Master Chief's abilities.
The Arbiter raised his Repeater towards the door in front of them all. "Go."
The breaching charges detonated, the directed energy of the shaped explosives blowing both halves of the double door inwards in a rather quiet blast of smoke. The Arbiter waited for his two hearts to beat twice, then rushed through the gap and into the darkness of the tunnels, the rest of the team close on his hooves. As the Master Chief crossed over the threshold, the last thing he saw from the Miralta were a few of Ultra 'Harum's Rangers making their way down the stairs and into the basement kitchen, where they would guard the underground entrance to the hotel and await the Arbiter's return.
It was dark in the tunnel, but not entirely pitch-black. The brighter overhead lighting was either deactivated or had lost power, leaving only strips of emergency red illumination tubes hung on either side of the tunnel. The low-light environment was not a detriment to them, as they all were wearing helmets with both light-enhancement capabilities, and alternative vision types such as thermal and infrared.
About ten meters wide and ten meters tall, the tunnel was designed to be spacious enough to accommodate the cargo trolleys and moderate foot traffic associated with the Eclipse gang's criminal enterprises - or in this case, six heavily armed and armored Sangheili and one UNSC Spartan.
"No lights, no noise," the Arbiter said. Anything they could do to prolong the Parasite discovering what they were up to and where they were was an advantage. The group took off at a fast clip, with only the sounds of bootfalls and the quiet rustlings of well-secured equipment accompanying them.
"You okay?" asked the Chief, speaking directly to Cortana. His body was facing and moving forwards, since the tech in his helmet allowed for a 360 degree field of view when he required it, meaning he could look behind him without having to turn his head.
"Yes," she replied in his ear. She was still acting more subdued than usual. "Let's just get this done quickly. The Flood brings back… bad memories."
The Master Chief's lips tightened, recalling the hardships that his companion had suffered at the hands of the Flood in the past. "Agreed."
The seven continued down the tunnel in dim silence, ever watchful, ever prepared to bring their weapons to bear on the Parasite if they showed their grotesque faces, ever eager to reach their objective, plant their bomb, and get the hell out.
At the front of the pack, the Arbiter came to a quick halt, holding up a closed fist to signal the rest of the team to do the same. They all crouched down low, weapons out and ready, and as the Chief looked ahead of them he saw the cause of their sudden stop.
There was a fork in the tunnel about fifty meters ahead. They already knew to take the right-most path, so a consultation of directions was not the reason why they were holding in place. Rather, it was the three Flood combat forms shambling slowly out of that same right-leading tunnel that had halted their forward progress.
The Arbiter silently tapped his Plasma Repeater twice, then put out his closed first once more. Hold fire. The Flood forms had not noticed them yet, and he was hoping that they would continue their aimless pathing down the left fork of the tunnel, instead of coming towards them. Seven pairs of eyes and six personal weapons were trained on the forms, two Sangheili covering each, while the Master Chief had his ACS still pointed towards their rear.
The seconds dragged on as the combat forms, thankfully armed with nothing but their own limbs and protruding tentacles, kept with their staggered anc clumsy gaits. One of the forms picked up its 'head' and seemed to look right at the Arbiter's task force, causing grips on weapons to tighten and taut fingers to prime triggers. In the poor illumination of the tunnels, and since the sealed armor suits they all wore prevented any type of scent that might give them away from escaping, the Flood form only spent a brief moment glancing down the tunnel before turning to shamble down the left fork of the tunnel. The other two forms followed the first one, and the tension throughout the Arbiter's group started to bleed off.
From about ten meters behind the Master Chief there was a soft swishing sound. A hidden door of a secondary tunnel slid open, its seams having blended well into the main tunnel walls in the dim environment.
A Flood combat form, the malformed body of what used to be a Turian, stepped out of the entrance - looking directly at the Master Chief.
The thing opened its maw to scream, but that's as far as it got before a five-round burst from the Chief's ACS tore its head and most of its upper torso into violent shreds of rotting gray flesh. Taking the cue of his weapons fire, the rest of the Arbiter's Sangheili quickly dispatched the other three Flood forms ahead of them in a hail of boiling Plasma.
A deafening silence filled the stale air after the jolt of sudden action. Were those Flood forms still single agents, or part of the larger collective? Had they killed the Flood forms fast enough to prevent them from sending a warning to the rest of the body of Parasites, in whatever way it was they communicated?
Softly, as if a car was passing above them on a bumpy road, the walls, ceiling, and floor of the tunnel began to vibrate. The vibrations started to intensify, slowly at first, but quickly grew to a crescendo of what felt like an minor earthquake. Then, even ten meters underground, they heard the roar.
"We've been made!" called the Chief, vocalizing what they all suddenly realized.
"Double time! Move!" barked the Arbiter, taking off at a sprint down the right fork of the tunnel towards their objective. The others followed close, an even newer sense of urgency driving them forwards. They had managed to cover over half the distance to the underground warehouse the Proto-mind had turned into its lair,
"Cortana, see if you can figure out if there are any more of those service tunnel access doors on our way, we dont want to be surprised again," said the Chief.
"Too late! Surprise!" she called with alarm, pinging the Chief's motion tracker. There was a solid red line of hostiles coming up ahead, staged behind a service door that was coming up….. right now. From their right side, a service door opened up in the tunnel just as the front half of the Arbiter's team was passing by.
The Parasite poured from the service tunnel like a flood. Ten, twenty, thirty combat forms exploded into the main tunnel directly into the center of their tight formation. Utter, violent, desperate chaos erupted.
The Master Chief was the quickest among them to react, given he had the best view of what was happening from his position at the rear. His ACS was up and spitting out rounds at the emerging Flood forms, but the flow coming out of the service door was too strong. He took down two, then three forms with his burst before another form turned its attention to him, at a close enough distance to swing an extended tentacle at break-neck speed towards him.
The Spartan dove under the blow into a forward roll, coming back to his feet mere inches away from the Flood form. The hardlight blade extended from his gauntlet that he had thrust deep into the combat forms midsection followed him up, eviscerating the thing from navel to neck. Another combat form was coming at him immediately from the right, but had its legs and lower torso turned to slag by a rapid-fire series of superheated plasma. The Chief's rear cameras showed another strike coming at him from behind, this one too close and fast to be avoided. The hostile limb slammed into his back shields, immediately draining them by thirty percent and threatening to push the Chief off-balance. Rather than try and fight it, the Spartan worked with the momentum of the blow, taking yet another diving forwards roll in an attempt to gain some space to work with.
The Arbiter and the rest of his Sangheili, having also been taking by surprise by the sudden closeness and intensity of the ambush, were now in the process of showing how they had earned their place in Special Operations. Plasma Repeaters and Rifles were being fired into the torsos and heads of combat forms mere inches and feet away, and three of the Sangheili, including the Arbiter, had activated Energy Swords. The searing blades were quickly being put to work severing limbs and thrusting deep into yellow-grey bodies, but as the Master Chief came up from his second combat roll, now at the farthest forward edge of the shattered formation, a grim realization set over him.
According to his motion tracker and a snapshot thermal overlay that Cortana had flashed him, the tide of Flood coming out of the access tunnel showed no signs of stopping. Potentially more troubling, the Chief could now see that the unexpected influx of hostiles had effectively split their seven-strong group down the middle. Himself, the Arbiter, and Operative 'Kanom had managed to find their way to the front of the formation, but the other four SpecOps Sangheili had been forced farther back down the tunnel, from where they'd already come, separated by an ever growing line of rabid combat forms.
The Master Chief made a quick decision. He hastily exchanged the ACS in his hands for the SPNKR launcher on his back, and leveled the dual-tubes at the entrance of the access tunnel the Parasite was pouring from.
"INCOMING!" he yelled, his external helmet speakers amplifying the shout so that it could be heard by all over the cacophony of battle. He pressed down on one of the triggers and a 102mm high explosive rocket shot out of the tube. The stabilization fins barely had time to deploy before the projectile slammed into the ceiling just inside of the access tunnel. At such close range the resulting blast of light, heat, and pressure collapsed the access tunnel, vaporized any Flood forms within the detonation radius, and threw all of the Sangheili onto their backs, shields flashing and HUD alarms warbling.
Only the Master Chief was still standing as the smoke and dust tried to dissipate within the underground confines, and that was because he was able to brace himself. To his left he saw that the Arbiter was already back on his feet, dragging up Operative 'Kanom with his free hand, eager to capitalize on the brief advantage that the Chief had bought them.
"You four!" he said, pointing to the other Sangheili in his team who were still picking themselves off the ground, weapons still sweeping over the dessicated shreds of combat forms that had died to Chief's rocket, "Keep the tunnel clear and open! Get reinforcements from the Miralta is you have to!"
"Operative 'Kanom, Master Chief, we proceed with the mission," he continued, before addressing the second element of his team one final time. "Wait seven minutes, and if you have not seen us yet you get back to the Miralta and extract immediately. Acknowledge."
"Acknowledged," came back the reply of all four.
The Arbiter turned to Chief and 'Kanom. "Onwards."
The trio resumed their sprint towards the underground warehouse at the end of the tunnel, now four team-members absent. However the Arbiter knew that it was critical that both the tunnel remain open for their extraction, and that no Flood forms have unopposed access to their rears while they were trying to plant the bomb.
Thankfully, they were not interrupted again by the Flood the remainder of the sprint towards the warehouse. The constant rumbling of the ground around them and the reverberations of the Flood's bestial roars above has not subsided, and more worryingly seemed to be shadowing the three's progress towards the Proto-Mind.
"There, the door," said the Arbiter, pointing at a non-descript double-wide entranceway marking the end of the tunnel, much like the one at the Miralta at the other end. He flashed the thermal vision provided by his helmet advanced sensor suite and saw that that beyond the door were dozens of Parasite forms gathered behind it.
"They're waiting for us," he said, levelling his Plasma Repeater in that direction.
The Master Chief once again drew his SPNKR Launcher from his back. They had long since lost the element of surprise. "Let's knock."
The Spartan sent the second rocket in the magazine downrange, and after a couple of seconds of flight time blasted the closed and locked door open into pieces. The trio stayed put as the Chief reached to his outer left thigh plates and grabbed the second SPNKR magazine, replacing the empty tube in a series of smoothly practiced movements.
Out of the cloudy haze left by the rocket, the Flood burst forwards - right to their doom. The Master Chief had been expecting to be rushed once the door was open, and so calmly he sighted down his SPNKR once again and feathered the trigger.
The first sixteen combat forms were blown apart by the Spartan's first rocket, the next two dozen by the second. He discarded the spent rocket magazine and returned the bare launcher to his back. The few stragglers that remained to wander out were slagged down by fire from the Arbiter and Operative 'Kanom as they advanced on the entrance to the warehouse. The Arbiter went in first, followed by 'Kanom, with Chief bringing up the rear.
It was pitch-black inside the warehouse. The standard overhead lighting was offline, and there looked to be no emergency illumination unlike in the tunnel previously. The three turned on helmet and shoulder lamps, sending streaks of bright white searching throughout the large building.
The trio's lights cut sharp swathes in the sickly green-yellow haze that had permeated the buildings atmosphere. Shipping containers and cargo crates stacked multiple units high cluttered the warehouse in a metal maze, and the Chief wondered what kind of illicit materials and goods were contained within. That mercenary Massani has mentioned that the Eclipse gang smuggled living beings as well, and he grimly thought that any of those poor souls unlucky enough to be in the process of being trafficked were had likely been taken by the Flood.
"This way," called the Arbiter, following a trail of mucus, phlegm, and viscous fluids that coated a particular path in the building, one that led up a set of stairs and into a manager's office that overlooked the warehouse floor. The constant overhead din and rumble from the Flood forms sequestered on the surface above them had subsided slightly, but still permeated the background, hastening the three up the flight of stairs.
They were met with a closed door, and although the Chief's motion tracker - which Cortana had filtering out contacts on the surface - was showing no movement, they still paused before entering.
"Ready?" asked the Arbiter, and Chief and 'Kanom nodded. He stepped back and delivered a monstrous kick to the door, the locking mechanisms not able to withstand the amount of force that a Sangheili like the Arbiter could deliver.
It was a familiar sight for the Master Chief. The Flood Proto-Mind, an large amalgamous blob of flesh and bodies spanned nearly the entire dimensions of the room. It hung there, suspended by strands of connective tissues to the walls, ceiling, and floor, pulsating slowly. He could see the faint faces of poor souls that had been assimilated directly into the Proto-Mind looking outwards, frozen in varying expressions of excruciating pain and abject terror. He could make out Humans, Turians, a coupe of Asari, even a Krogan that were now more a part of the collective 'consciousness' of the Flood than they ever were their own person.
That's what made the Flood such an unconscionable enemy. When the Flood came after you, it didn't just kill you and then move on to the next soldier, or the next resource, not like the UNSC or the Covenant did in their conflicts. Even taking control and corrupting one's own body was not the worst thing that the Flood did to someone.
The Flood fed on your very soul. It hungered for memories and when you fell victim to it, as your physical form was being twisted into an unrecognizable monster of a drone, it paraded all of those experiences in front of you and ripped them away forever, shredding them to pieces with insatiable jaws that knew nought but how to devour. The Flood took your feelings, it took your personality, it took your knowledge, it took every memory of every encounter throughout your entire life and it used it to grow smarter, stronger, and more capable so that it could do the same to others still. It was the worst torture imaginable, being reduced from something to nothing - nothing except a pawn for mindless hunger.
"'Kanom, the bomb. Quickly."
The Arbiter's words put a halt to the Master Chief's introspective thoughts, though as the Special Forces Operative maneuvered the bomb from his back to the ground just in front of the Proto-Mind, the Spartan wondered if the leader of the Sangheili was having similar thoughts. As if on cue the Arbiter turned his helmet to look at Chief, the gaze between them one of understanding, determination, and fatigue.
Same shit, different galaxy.
As 'Kanom expertely hastened through the steps of arming the bomb, Cortana broke her silent reverie. "I've figured out why our comms are jammed," she said over Chief's helmet speakers, so that the Arbiter and 'Kanom could hear too. "See those over there on the back wall? Those are comms cabinets, advanced ones too."
Indeed there was a bank of cabinets on the far wall - covered heavily by the Proto-Mind's connective tissue.
"The Flood must be using them to, well, flood the airwaves with enough crap to jam our own channels," she said.
"I see," said the Arbiter. He raised his Plasma Repeater and sent a volley of shots stitching across the bank of comms cabinets, sparking, slagging, and setting them on fire. The Arbiter then tapped quickly on his forearm-mounted tacpad, cycling to the channel the four Sangheili of their team still in the tunnel. "'Ralstum! Are you receiving!?"
"Yes Arbiter!" came the reply. "We are holding the tunnel, but it is hard going. The Parasite found another access tunnel farther back towards the Miralta, and they've opened up a second front against our forces there."
The Master Chief could see the relief flow through the Arbiter's posture now that he was able to connect with his soldiers again. "Very well. Keep the tunnel open just a little longer. The bomb is almost set and we will be returning shortly."
"Affirmative."
The Arbiter closed the channel and switched to another one. "Ultra 'Harum! Report!"
"Good to hear you Arbiter! The hotel is still secure, especially now that I can call in air support. The Parasite had been throwing themselves at us with marked abandon, but a short while ago a majority of their numbers left the assault to double-back on your position. They must know what you're up to."
Operative 'Kanom looked back to the Arbiter and held up a thumb. "Bomb set. Five minute timer."
The Arbiter nodded at him and returned to addressing 'Harum. "It will not matter for much longer. The bomb has been planted. We will be exfilling now, prepare the troops for extraction!"
They didn't hear Ultra 'Harum's response, because it was then when the heavens opened up above them - to rain demons on them below.
The Flood forms had gathered in the above-ground warehouse at the spot directly above the Proto-Mind, and the combined weight of what was by this point hundreds of forms finally proved too much for the architecture to handle. A section of the 'ceiling' collapsed down into the Proto-Mind's room in a shower of dust and debris, creating a ramp that now provided a very clear access path for hundreds of Flood forms to rush down towards the Arbiter, the Master Chief, and Operative 'Kanom.
The Master Chief, furthest away from the section of ceiling that had dropped down, was the first to realize the immediate gravity of the situation. Cortana used his helmet's advanced imaging capabilities to distinguish targets through the haze brought on by the collapse, and without pause he started putting rounds from his ACS downrange - or rather, uprange - at the first few combat forms starting to tumble down the ramp.
Time, inexorable as it was, slowed for him as Cortana pushed his Mjolnir to flood his system with adrenaline and norepinephrine. The world around the Chief slowed to a crawl, and it was in this time - Spartan Time - where he was at his most lethal. Right now, in the face of an impending tsunami of Flood, he needed to be lethal.
Without laying off the trigger the Chief switched to a one-handed grip on his ACS, his free hand darting to the bandolier of grenades on his chest. He grabbed his two Promethean grenades and flung them at the middle of the ceiling-ramp. The first three forms down the ramp had already fallen to the lightning-blue shots from his ACS, and a fourth was hit right in the chest by one of the grenades, embedding itself into its dead-yellow flesh. The grenades detonated a quarter-second later, filling the ramp with twin spheres of pure ionized energy and turning any part of a combat form that touched them into rapidly dissipating particles of orange energy.
His two incendiary grenades came next, splashing sticky, fiery napalm onto the top of the ramp and engulfing Flood forms waiting to throw themselves down. Luckily for the beleaguered trio, the collapsed piece of ceiling was only so wide, effectively creating a funnel for the incoming Parasite assault to have to shove themselves through to get down to them.
With the incoming tide temporarily stemmed, the Chief looked to check on his two Sangheili comrades. The Arbiter had just raised his own Repeater and was sending streams of plasma at the encroaching Flood, and was in the process of reaching for one of the Energy Sword hilts at his hip. Chief could tell from his movements and positioning that he intended to take a position at the base of the ramp and engage in close combat with the incoming Parasites.
But where was Operative 'Kanom? Reading his thoughts, Cortana silhouetted a prone figure by the collapsed ceiling ramp. Wait - not by the ramp - partly underneath the ramp. 'Kanom had been in just the wrong position when the ceiling fell, and was not able to move fast enough to prevent the ramp from falling on him. Chief could see him lying there prone, with both legs just below his back-facing knees trapped underneath the weight of the ramp, anchoring him to the spot.
'Kanom was not out of the fight however, he was a Special Operations soldier after all. He had lost his own Plasma Repeater in the chaos of the collapse, but had quickly snapped the Plasma Pistol off of his hip and joined the Master Chief and the Arbiter in putting fire up towards Flood forms starting to descend down the ramp.
Chief knew that with the bomb set, and the near totality of the Flood on Omega coming for them, the three had to get moving immediately. Operative 'Kanom's current predicament threw a large wrench into that plan, unluckily for them. He looked to the Arbiter to see that he had forgone his now badly overheated Repeater and had drawn his second Energy Sword. The large Sangheili had planted himself at the base of the ceiling ramp, daring any of the grotesque Parasites to come and face his twirling maelstrom of hissing twin plasma blades.
Knowing that the Arbiter's expert swordsmanship was the only thing currently keeping the Flood from overrunning them, the Chief concluded that he would have to be the one to deal with 'Kanom. The Spartan jolted over to his position with speed, throwing another pair of fragmentation grenades from his bandolier towards the top of the ramp. Volume of fire was doing its best to even the odds against the Flood, but they would run out of munitions far faster than the Parasite would run out of bodies to throw at them.
Chief slid into a knee besides 'Kanom, taking a closer look at the Sangheili's trapped legs. The Spartan already knew that there was no way he was going to be able to lift the ramp off of his legs, and as it turned out, so did 'Kanom. The Special Operations soldier turned his helmet to look Chief straight in the eyes, visor to visor, and thrust something into his chest.
It was 'Kanom's own Energy Sword, the metal hilt painted a deep crimson, engraved with golden runic symbols of the Sangheili language. The Chief took the sword hilt, understanding 'Kanom without any words having to pass between them. Do it. Don't leave me here.
'Kanom then reached behind the Chief, and he felt his M45D Shotgun being pulled off the magplates on his lower back. The Operative turned his attention back to the approaching Flood and started methodically firing eight-gauge buckshot in support of the Arbiter. The Master Chief drew an imaginary line across 'Kanom's legs, just below his knee joints. Cortana, ever aware of what was going on, actually placed target lines in his HUD for him to follow.
With millimeter precision the Master Chief brought the hilt back, snapped the crackling blue-white blade to life, and brought it down right through both of 'Kanom's legs. The Operative grunted with the sudden shock, but his own armor worked quickly to counteract the fresh injury, sealing off the wound site with reactive nanomesh and dumping pain-blocking chemicals into his system. Chief grabbed 'Kanom's shoulder and started pulling him backwards away from the ramp, the Sangheili still working through his borrowed shotgun's magazine tube.
"Mission update:" It was Cortana, speaking through comms to all three of them, "Tunnels are compromised. Extraction is coming to us. Air support at this location in ten seconds."
Music to Chief's ears. Even though extraction was coming to them, the Spartan knew that the three of them would have to be mobile enough to still get to the evac from their current location in the room with the Proto-Mind, and 'Kanom clearly wasn't going anywhere under his own power.
In a split-second decision the Chief reached back to discard the empty SPNKR launcher from his upper back, then pushed 'Kanom so that he was sitting up. He then turned around and crouched, pressing his back up against the Operative's, feeling the recoil of the shotgun as 'Kanom kept firing. The Sangheili soldier knew immediately what the Chief wanted to do, and so he deactivated his rear-facing energy shields and magnetized his back weapons plates. The Master Chief did the same, and then got back to his feet as quick as he could. With all six-hundred pounds of Operative 'Kanom and his armor now hanging off of Chief's back, he had to shift his own weight forwards to stay balanced.
Above them came heat, light, and pressure, and the room around them shook with such violence that the Master Chief was worried even more of the twin warehouses would collapse around them. In his motion tracker he could see a huge swath of red targets blink out of existence - that must have been the air support.
He found the Arbiter still planted on the ramp, swords crossed in front of him as he'd braced for the airstrike. Around him were piles of dessicated and eviscerated Flood forms, and strips of flesh and black-yellow 'blood' were slowly sliding off of his shimmering energy shields.
The Arbiter looked towards the Chief and his new Special Operations 'backpack' with a fleeting quizzical intrigue, then said, "The only way out is through!"
He started charging up the ceiling ramp, striking down the few combat forms still left standing from the Sangheili air support. The Chief was close in tow, adding his own blue tracers from his ACS to the fray, sweeping Flood forms out of their way as they scrambled away from the Proto-Mind and the inverted plasma bomb that was steadily counting down.
A group of Flood forms burst into the room with the Proto-Mind from the direction of the tunnels behind them, but Operative 'Kanom was ready for them. He had already found the extra bag of ammunition that the Chief had strapped to one of his legs and had reloaded his shotgun with incendiary shells. The M46D spat fire out of its barrel as 'Kanom worked over combat forms at their rear, while the Chief and the Arbiter fought to clear their egress.
The situation drew a remarkable parallel in Chief's mind to many years ago just after Reach, when they had physically attached the UNSC Frigate Gettysburg to the damaged Covenant warship Ascendant Justice in order to have enough power to make an escape from the system.
Same shit, different galaxy indeed.
There was movement from the top of the ramp, a flash of dark, angled metal that the Chief immediately recognized. The three of them emerged from below into the above-ground warehouse - now significantly bombed-out from the recent airstrike - to come face to face with four very active and very angry Mgalekgolo.
The two pairs of Mgalekgolo were laying absolute waste to any Flood forms in sight, vaporizing them with blasts from their fuel rod arm cannons or turning them into paste with immense strikes from their starship-metal shields. Upon sighting the Arbiter, the Master Chief, and Operative 'Kanom, the four Mgalekgolo gathered around them in a protective phalanx, ushering them quickly to the grav-lift of a Phantom that was hovering a short distance away, just above a hole that had been punched into the upper warehouse's ceiling.
As the Phantom's lift took a hold of the Master Chief, he saw a second Phantom swoop in to lift their guard of Mgalekgolo off the ground as well. As the gravity lift gently set him down within the troop bay of the quickly-extracting Phantom, the Master Chief finally let himself slightly relax his guard. A Sangheili medic came for Operative 'Kanom, another Special Operations soldier in the bay helping get him down from the Spartan's back.
In his HUD Chief could see the bomb-timer counting down - less than one minute now. The explosive was tamper-proof; there would be no escape for the Flood Proto-Mind. As they raced away from the blast zone Chief found a vacant seat and sat down heavily. There was a vacant seat opposite him that was soon occupied by the Arbiter, chest heaving slowly as the stresses of the mission started to bleed off. The two old soldiers, once bitter enemies, now close comrades, gave each other a quiet nod for a job well done.
Right before the bomb erased the entirety of Omega's Third Ward's lower warehouse district, the two soldiers also heard something else. Not heard, but rather projected straight into their heads, the words searing themselves into their minds like a hot iron.
I am not alone. We are hungry.
Author's Note:
Special shoutout to user myafroatemydog. I saw you review every single chapter. You legend.
Also, if anyone plays World of Warships on the PC, shoot me a pm. Looking for some folks to boat around with.
Hope ya'll had a Happy Thanksgiving.