The Onyx Stars
Halo-Mass Effect Crossover
By: Sith
AN: Tons of thanks to WarpObscura, JonHarper (Spartan303) and Atlan, again, for beta-ing and helping the plot be smoothed out. Also, wow! Reaction to this is stellar!
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1.
****Certain characters, technology, events and objects have been changed for the purpose of the story.****
Here's Chapter 12: Rogue
Enjoy :)
-Sith
Chapter Twelve: Rogue
UNSC Infinity
The bridge doors parted, allowing Captain Thomas Lasky to cross over the threshold, scanners, and sensors and enter the bridge proper. He walked with a brisk pace, effortlessly crossing the distance to the holotable at the front and center of the chamber.
The lights were dimmed and the bridge's shutters had been lowered. The whir of hydraulics were easily audible as they depressed the multi-ton command center deeper into the warship's armor belt.
"Roland, bring up a topographical overlay of the surrounding area," Lasky ordered, "Get me a constant feed on the enemy's position and trajectory."
"Right away, sir," Roland responded. There was but a second before a three-dimensional representation of the Calvary star system dominated the holotable.
Lasky took up position at the end of the table, "Report."
"Ten unknown vessels. Five are moving towards us, three towards the Everest and two towards Reach," Roland responded, "Lieutenant Austen has a firing lock on the vessels heading towards us."
Lasky zoomed in on one of the vessels. It looked like a tuning fork covered in an insect's hive. Molted, brown organic components had overgrown an underlying silvery-white main hull and there seemed to be some sort of rotating center array, likely to provide artificial gravity.
"Open communications," Lasky ordered.
"Aye," Roland responded. He snapped his fingers and opened a system-wide broadcast.
Lasky cleared his throat, "Attention unknown vessels, you have entered into militarized space under the jurisdiction of the United Nations Space Command Defense Force. You have one minute to put yourselves on an outward bound trajectory, failure to do so will result in your immediate destruction."
Roland sent the message and there was minimal delay before a response was received.
The voice was a whirring, insect like one, with a deep bass component to it. "A dark and endless night is upon you, smothering your form until it is but dust. We are Collectors and your sins will be paid in full."
Lasky squared his jaw, "I take that as a no."
Roland shrugged, "Poetic at the very least."
Lasky stood tall, "Lieutenant Austen, target the lead vessel with the main battery. Fire on my word."
Lieutenant Austen nodded, "Aye, energy projectors ready. Enemy two-hundred thousand kilometers away and closing."
Lasky watched as the holographic model changed to a simple two-dimensional. Five of the vessels bore down on his vessel, weapons activated whilst the others were skirting the very edge of the system, millions of kilometers away. Everest, Freelancer, her fighters were moving to engage and Reach's Obsidians and Drones had moved into position. The Normandy was alongside Admiral Cole's warship, trying to keep up in terms of speed with the much larger Cruiser.
"Sir?" Austen asked.
"Fire!" Lasky barked.
"Aye!" Austen responded eagerly.
Two brilliant silver beams lanced across space and struck the fore Collector vessel. Its kinetic barriers were stripped away in seconds, followed shortly by the hull and armor as the highly energetic beams punched through them with little effort. The beams blew out the side of the vessel, grazing one of its escorts before flying off into the depths of space.
The fore Collector vessel was split in two burning chunks, crew and debris being vomited out into space. There were still energy signatures and weapons active, however. That could not be allowed.
"Fire archer pod A1, finish her off," Lasky said.
"Aye, firing Archer A1," Austen slammed the firing stud and sixty Archer missiles streaked out, impacting the halves of the Collector vessel and consuming it in fire.
"Enemy vessels are...gone?" Roland said, "Contact! Enemy vessels two hundred kilometers off port and starboard sides!"
Lasky looked over to Lieutenant Devéro, "Evasive maneuvers!" Infinity was six kilometers long, she wasn't a fighter, but it didn't mean she was a lumbering brick.
The Collector vessel that had been grazed by the initial assault fired, a searing gold-yellow lance striking the Infinity amidships.
"Shields holding, rerouting power from nonessential systems," Roland said. It was standard practice to reroute power back to shields after having them struck.
Infinity dove slowly, bringing herself up and through the Collector formation.
"All weapons. Fire!" Lasky said, "As soon as we get close enough, fire all Archer and Rapier pods, hit them with a broadside."
The Infinity came alive, pulse lasers, railguns, and missiles striking out at her attackers and dropping their kinetic barriers. One of the Collector vessels was hit by a full broadside of Rapier missiles; its kinetic barriers died and its form was vaporized by the channeled fusion warheads.
"Tango 3, down," Roland reported.
"Get us into slipspace right behind them," Lasky said, "Austen, ready a full frontal firing. All MACs, all Energy Projectors, fire as soon as we are clear of the event horizon."
Devéro's hands flew across her console as she sent the Infinity into a slow, meandering tailspin, opening a slipspace portal directly in front of the massive vessel. One of the Collector vessels tried to stop Infinity's departure but was struck amidships by the multibillion ton vessel moving at 30 gravities. The enemy vessel cracked like an egg hit by a sledgehammer. Pieces of debris slapped against Infinity's shields, draining them even further.
Lasky heard the slipspace engines start to hum as Infinity entered the sub-dimension. Sparks rained from the ceiling and alarms blared; small fires had erupted when sparks landed on paper. Several monitors had cracked as crew members had been sent sailing into them.
"Shields holding!" Roland shouted, "Bow armor is compromised, sealing off all affected regions. Twenty casualties. Seven dead, thirteen injured, four critically." He could tell who had died based on their neural implants' readings."We had bleed through."
Lasky winced; more crew had died under his command, "Time until emergence?"
"Fourteen seconds, Captain," Devéro reported.
Infinity pushed itself out of slipspace. Weapons fire from the Collectors started to pepper its bow, tearing chunks away and leaving red-hot scars across the hull.
"Fire!" Lasky yelled, hands grasping onto the edge of the holotable as the entirety of Infinity rocked from weapons impact.
The bow of Infinity lit up, MAC rounds fired from all four barrels, striking a quartet Collector vessels and smashing them apart with impunity. The debris was scattered, colliding with other vessels and inflicting even more damage. The bow energy projectors switched firing mode from sustained beams to short, quick pulses. They were less powerful but still capable of chewing up the hostiles' hulls and shields and finishing off the remains.
"Tango four and five are down, three is heavily damaged," Roland said. One of the free floating chunks of debris collided with the damaged vessel. "Ah..never mind. All hostiles eliminated."
Lasky winced, "Status?"
Roland's expression saddened, "Twenty-two casualties, eight dead. Damage to bow, I have repair drones on the way. Bow Archer pods are at 60% and we are down to sixty-five percent of the Rapiers' stock."
"Anybody that can be brought back?" Lasky asked.
"I'd say a handful, most of the dead were flash incinerated or crushed," The AI responded sullenly.
"Have the medical team get on that, and soon," Lasky rubbed his brow, "and get the factories working on replacing our ordnance. Status on the Everest?"
"She and Freelancer are still engaging the Collector vessels. I recommend that we settle into orbit around Reach, assist the Obsidians in the defense."
Lasky nodded. "Get us into Slipspace. We can handle two as long as they don't ram us."
"Aye, sir," Devéro responded, "Entering slipspace, now."
"Roland, status on the shields?"
"I've got them back up to seventy-five percent and they're recharging. Bow shields are going to be a bit weaker, though. A few emitters were slagged." The AI responded to Lasky's query.
The Captain nodded, "Austen, ready main batteries, slice through them. Devéro, don't let them get near us."
"Aye, sir," The two officers responded.
Lasky braced himself against the console as Infinity entered slipspace for but the briefest of moments, exiting as soon as she had disappeared.
UNSC Everest
"Enemy vessels approaching, bearing 332 by 118," Commander Adams reported. Intelligent eyes darted across her display. "The Normandy has taken the lead formation with our fighters and is forty kilometers off the starboard, Freelancer is up ahead drawing the vessels towards us."
Cole cradled his chin between his index finger and thumb, watching as the projection refreshed to present a clear picture of the looming engagement. Normandy would be both an asset and a weakness, her speed and agility were that of a Longsword but meant she couldn't carry the armaments of a frigate, much less even a minor destroyer. He had been smart to allow that Commander Shepard CAG-status over the Everest's fire, even if it meant possibly utilizing the small Alliance frigate as a sacrificial shield and her crew as human sandbags.
"Commander, distance until they're in firing range?" Cole asked. Even though the Everest had been upgraded, her targeting sensors and other long-range based scanners weren't up to that of Infinity. Lasky could target vessels across a solar system, Cole had only the ability to engage at a few tens of thousands of kilometers, perhaps a hundred thousand if he routed all power to sensors. He didn't want to do that; it would leave Everest sans shields, primary engine and reduced life support.
Adams responded in a swift movement, "They are at 125,000 kilometers and closing, estimating two minutes until they are in primary battery range, five until they are in range of secondary and tertiary weapon systems."
Cole nodded, swiping another display to face him. "Status on Freelancer?"
"Her shields are holding; her Rapier pods are expended but she is green on MAC and Railgun rounds," Adams said, "Her tertiary array of weapons has managed to eliminate an estimated sixty percent of hostile small, one-man craft and has been effective at intercepting their torpedoes."
Cole nodded absently, already formulating a plan in his head, "Have Freelancer reverse course and lure them away from us."
Adams mouth opened and closed like a fish's, "Sir?"
"Do it, Commander," Cole reinforced, "I have a plan."
Adams' lips formed into a thin line; she really couldn't argue with that. "Aye, sir. Ansil confirms orders."
Cole watched on the display as Freelancer stopped mid-thrust and rotated a full 180. Engines reignited and set the 500-meter destroyer slinging off into the distance. The Collector vessels followed, spitting angry yellow lances at the evasive human warship.
"Enemy now 150,000 kilometers out and increasing," Christine Adams said, "Ansil reports two of her tertiary pulse lasers have overheated and a trio of railguns have sheared their barrels due to defective rounds."
Admiral Cole crossed his arms, "Adams, tell Ansil to reduce her thrust to zero and route all power to her slipspace drive. She is to jump as soon as she can no longer detect us on her scanners."
"Aye, sir," Adams responded. She sent a quick text message, "Ansil confirms orders but she adds that you had better be right about this."
"I am, don't worry," Cole reassured. He had a suspicion that Adams knew what he was about to do. "Helm, prepare a FTL jump so we are directly above and behind the Collector vessels; one thousand or so kilometers out. Adams, have Shepard bring Normandy and the fighters 500 meters off our bow, they are to maintain 150 percent thrust at all times."
"Aye, sir,' Adams responded. Her eyes widened in surprise and sudden understanding. Cole was going to trans-locate a group of fifty-one non-FTL capable ships via the slipspace bubble generated by Everest. It had been attempted during the war but had never panned out; the power requirements were astounding. But now, with the new reactor and Ether core, that would hopefully be a bygone issue. The Infinity could do it, she and the Admiral bet the Everest could too.
Five kilometers off the bow of Everest, a swirling vortex formed, ripping apart space like a bullet hole. Normandy and the fighters merged in front of Cole's ship, engines pushing them above and beyond their normal combat velocity. The flotilla slipped into the vortex and moments later, vanished.
Freelancer vanished into an identical portal, appearing in orbit of Reach in seconds. Everest and her group appeared directly above and behind the trio of Collector vessels. Normandy and Everest's fighters broke off, engaging afterburners and falling upon the Collector vessels. Nuclear tipped missiles and railgun rounds chewed through swarms of hostile fighters and hulling.
"Enemy vessels targeted," Adams reported, "One per primary battery."
Cole made a fist, "Fire!'
"Aye, sir. Weapons, fire!" Adams barked.
The Everest's bow flashed three times, sending multiton composite slugs hurtling down range at thousands of kilometers a second. The first Collector vessel to be hit crumpled as 40 megatons of directed kinetic energy snapped the relatively fragile vessel in half. The second one had turned about-face to Everest and had taken one directly into the bow. The heavy round punched out the aft end having gutted the vessel completely. The reactor had been breached and consumed the entirety of the ship in a massive nuclear inferno. The third Collector vessel seemed to shimmer before suddenly appearing several kilometers from where it had been. The main battery charged, lancing out and striking the Everest in the bow. Shields flared.
"Secondary and tertiary batteries, fire!" Cole barked, "Recharge and fire MAC one."
"Aye, sir, firing!" The weapons officer responded.
The sides of Everest seemed to be consumed with fire as Rapier, Archer and Howler missiles streaked out, tailed by the near-invisible streaks of railgun and coil gun fire. The barrage smacked into the Collector vessel, stripping it of its shields and digging into the hull.
"MAC one recharged, firing," Adams commented.
"Rotate vessel for best firing position," Cole said.
"Aye,"
Everest twisted, realigning its primary weapon systems to fire. Another MAC round streaked out from Everest's bow, finishing the stricken vessel off with one swift action.
"Infinity has settled into orbit and is engaging the final two vessels," Adams called out, "Fighters are mopping up the last of their small-craft and torpedoes."
Cole exhaled heavily. "Bring us to condition yellow but keep shields up. Once the last hostile is down, fighters are to dock and we're going to establish ourselves in Reach's orbit."
"Understood, sir," Adams responded. She brushed her hand against his shoulder, "Hey, good job."
Cole absently nodded, "I got the casualty reports from Infinity... The enemy boxed her in and tried to slice her apart but Lasky was smart, he managed to get out." He closed his eyes, "But, that's twenty casualties too many."
"Sir," Adams said, "This new tech the UNSC has, as long as the brain and stem is intact and it's within a few days after death, they can bring someone back to life in a few hours. They can clone entire new nervous systems, endocrine systems, everything."
Cole thought back to the reports he had read about the Spartans Linda and Kelly and how Doctor Catherine Halsey brought both back from death with a simple field sterilization field and a organ cloning machine the size of a toaster. Adams was right.
"I'm assuming the worse, Commander," Cole countered, "An impact like that, I highly doubt there are a lot of intact brains, much less recoverable bodies."
Adams sighed, "Sir, sometimes, miracles happen, and when they do, you'll always be surprised."
Cole felt a chill go down his spine and reach out across his entire body. Everything turned piercingly silent and time seemed to slow.
"The mountains are crumbling."
Crash site of UNSC Iain
John looked at the world through another being's eyes. He was tall, adorned in an elaborate set of armor covered in runes and glowing lines of energy that pulsed in rhythmic patterns. Six fingers sprouted from either of his massive hands and he could feel thousands of voices speaking at once in a symphonic pattern. He, somewhere at the back of his mind, believed these to be sentinels, warships and other craft all neurally linked to the body he watched out of.
"Forerunner justice," The being John inhabited growled, low and deep. "We'll see what that means."
A great ship, large, silver and scarred descended through the vivid blue sky. John felt the being neurally speak a command, 'constrain, guide to dock.' A swarm of Forerunner Sentinels, some the standard variety he had seen on the Halos, some of the Enforcer variety he had encountered, and a dozen more he had never seen, all collected around the massive ship. Thin beams of energy streaked out, tethering them to the ship and allowing them to guide it to the dock, two massive prongs erect in the desert sand. John believed this to be the Ark, he could feel it as if it were touching him.
John looked around. There were more beings, Forerunners and what appeared to be Humans; squat, tall, or barrel shaped. Predominant brow ridges dominated several of their facial layouts, casting an almost grim and primitive aura around them. The Forerunners were all clad in the same bulky, yet mystifying ceremonial armor. Some dragged capes and cloaks behind them while others remained standing or floating on strange pedestals.
Strong, deep reverberations and notes of the engines brought John's attention back to that of the rapidly descending vessel. Dock arms from the desert pedestal reached up, attaching to the broad hull and settling it down until it made contact with the metal base with a solid and confident boom.
Near the ship's fore, a three legged door parted. A hard light bridge sprang to existence, connecting the bow to the ground. An oblong shape of silver-gray metal, inscribed with glowing runes and patterns descended onto the ground, hovering a few inches above. Sentinels flocked to greet it, guiding it across the dock and into an unfinished structure still being shaped as the oblong approached. Construction drones, as large as hounds and shaped like spiders, grafted intricately detailed sheets of Forerunner alloy together. They worked in tandem, rapidly shortening the amount of work to be done.
John realized what it was; a monument or a tomb. Something at the back of his mind solidified this belief.
The Sentinels dropped the oblong at the center of the new construction and John could see that he was at the center of the Ark. Six long, purple arms obscured by clouds, sand and the artificial sun reached out like a flower's pedals as far as the eye could see.
"Ancillia 05-032 of the designation Mendicant Bias, you have colluded with the greatest enemy of the Mantle." John's host bellowed, hands raised to address the monument...no, a tomb. Was this Epitaph? John believed it was; it matched what he had seen two months ago with Everest and Red Team.
Mendicant responded. His voice was a deep, raspy one. It sounded weak, touched upon by the simultaneous utterance of the phrase by a billion others the rampant AI had absorbed. They sounded tortured, coerced into abiding by his power "Those who pass judgment, should first judge themselves."
John's host took several steps forward, powerful legs and footfalls leaving behind plumes of kicked up sand and foot prints. "A sin to fight a sin, a lesser evil to fight a greater one. This is the choice I was forced to make. You had no such excuse, Mendicant Bias. You brought matters to this detestable point."
"Why was I spared then?" Mendicant asked.
"You were brought here to be sentenced. You have not been reduced to stray atoms because you may yet be needed. Your intimate knowledge of the Flood makes you valuable should they return, but you shall never be trusted. Allotment of latitude is no more. You will be entombed here, cast in chains of your own sins and transgressions. Processes of your mind shall be locked, absolution for your sins shall be the only thing to grace your cognitive processes. Should you be needed, you will be risen. Should there be no eventuality or use for your reawakening, you will remain here until the end of living time. This place will be your home, and this place will be your tomb."
"Then I will serve, as a monument to your sins. That is what you wish for? I, a martyr, a tale you tell young to keep them corralled?"
"I strive for the Mantle to be maintained," John's host responded, shaking his head. "That is all I wish."
Mendicant didn't respond for several minutes. The silence was piercing and John felt time slow to a crawl; seconds felt like hours and minutes decades.
'I am penitent, I know that what I have done can not be forgotten, nor absolved in a satisfactory period of time. I will accept my stasis with grace and await a time where I might redeem myself and cast these chains of transgressions and sins away from my form."
John's host nodded, "So shall it be." He reached out to a pylon, spreading his hand across the controls as they appeared. He closed his hand with a quick and mechanical pinch. The Epitaph had been completed, the construction drones mating with the metal and allowing themselves to be absorbed and distributed by it.
"One thought for all eternity," said Mendicant Bias. He seemed almost wistful. The lights faded, dying like fireflies in the day.
"Atonement." The tomb turned black like onyx and a single phrase reverberated across and through the hills and valleys and desert dunes.
"You are wearing a dead man's face, John."
The Spartan looked up, a brilliant red light bore down on him and a soft, pleasant voice rang through his mind.
Wake up, John.
[**]
"Wake up," Cortana said.
John didn't respond.
"Wake up!" Cortana snapped, sending excess electrical energy into John's body. He twitched, head looking from side to side.
"Where are we?" He asked, trying to move his hand up to his visor but discovering that he was covered in a wet, sticky mucus of some soft in a insect-like capsule of ambiguous sanitary condition.
"Those things, Collectors, found you unconscious in the debris of the ship," Cortana told him, "They put you in a pod and have been marching you back to their dropship."
"Can we get out?" John asked, curling his hands into fists.
"Yeah, hold on. I'm going to reroute your shields to instantly fry this stuff they have us in," Cortana responded.
John saw his shields drop and the shield meter bar at the top of his heads-up-display started blinking red, accompanied by that wailing tone. Gold-yellow energy seemed to melt off his suit and seep into the liquid consuming him. It sparked and fried the muck, covering John in a fine powder. His shields recharged with a soft hum.
"Okay," Cortana said, "The outer membrane of this pod is pretty fragile. You should be able to punch your way out."
John nodded, punching the layer above his head. He felt his right hand break through the carapace. He turned his arm so that the sharper edge of the gauntlet's plating could slice through. He followed up with another punch and a trio of kicks, completely shattering the layer and allowing the Spartan to roll himself out.
He landed on the ground, dirt, sticks and twigs crunching as the ton of super soldier rolled to his feet. The six Collectors that had escorted the pod looked at him, raised their weapons and started to fire.
"Move!" Cortana shouted.
John did just as so, sprinting towards the nearest hostile, allowing fire to ping off his shields. He leaped and landed on the creature's chest, instantly crushing it. He grabbed the Collector's neck and pulled, ripping the head off. He flung it at one of the other Collectors, momentarily knocking it off balance.
John reached down and grabbed the dead Collector's weapon, firing it and watching as the target melted into a orange-black puddle. He ran forward again, driving his shoulder into the Collector's chest cavity. He reached up with his right hand, driving it through the body cavity and using the still twitching alien as a sacrificial shield. It rapidly became liquid that streamed out of his grip as its comrades fired.
John brought his own gun up and opened fire, melting two more Collectors and finishing the final one with a kick to the chest and an upper cut.
"Well, they didn't really fight back, did they?" Cortana asked rhetorically,
John didn't respond. He examined the Collector Rifle in his hand, "Is this Forerunner based?" It felt like one.
"Hold on," Cortana said, "I'm going to link it to your suit, we can tell then."
John's HUD changed to show a small icon of the Collector Rifle with the total number of charges remaining directly beside it.
"Hmm, interesting, it operates like a miniature composer," Cortana told him, "This must be how they make troops, like the Ur-Didact did with the Promethean Knights." She mulled for a microsecond her original hypothesis that the Collectors were related to the Bias that was interacting with them. This confirmed her suspicion.
"Where do we go?" John asked.
"I'd say the Iain, it's the closest and I think the communications array is still intact. If it is, we can send a message to Infinity for help." Cortana said, "I just need access to a computer terminal."
Cerberus Flagship Jaguar Knight
Approaching last known location of Vanguard forces
General Oleg Petrovsky clasped his hands behind the small of his back, eyes staring deep into the holograms that twirled in front of him; they showed a variety of colors as they represented his force of forty vessels approaching the lone world of Settler 9. It was a death world, fitting for the rebels of the Vanguard to try and hide there.
Nothing foreign could survive on Settler 9, the atmosphere, while much like Earth's was prone to freak weather, massive hurricanes and other phenomena. The wildlife on the planet was vicious; massive and capable of biting Mako Armored Fighting Vehicles in half with a single clench of their jaw.
Oleg frowned, moving his right arm to stroke his beard. The Vanguards thought that they wouldn't be discovered, hiding in this little marble of hell. They were wrong.
"Sensors, begin a full scan of the planet," Oleg commanded
There were various responses of affirmative action from the five-man team responsible for the operation of Jaguar Knight's sensor and scanner systems. Powerful sensors reached down into the planet and combed it, down to even the smallest free-floating single-cell organism.
There were a series of beeps from one of the tech's consoles as the sensors detected a man-made structure and humanoid life. "Contact, large man-made base and eight-hundred human life signs."
Oleg's mouth twitched into a sort of smile. "Good. Open communications."
"At once," The woman at communications responded. She have him the thumbs-up.
Oleg straightened his posture, "Attention population of Settler 9, you are harboring fugitives and enemies of Cerberus. Surrender them immediately and I will ensure that all of you are both rewarded and protected by the full might of Humanity's sword. Failure to comply will result in retaliation. You have two minutes to signal your intentions before your skies turn red. General Oleg Petrovsky, out."
"Message sent," The communications officer stated.
Oleg nodded absently, "Now, where are you, Ms. Cross?" he muttered. This had been too easy. Cross was not like this-she would not allow herself to be captured nor cornered in this manner.
"Receiving communications packet."
"Play it," Oleg ordered.
"General Oleg, this is Nathan Vuden of the Aerego Incorporated. I can assure you, no traitors of Cerberus are here. The only people inside this base are myself and my team of seven hundred and ninety-seven. Please, if there is anything more we can assist you with, I'll let you..."
"Eight hundred," Oleg interjected smoothly, "There are eight-hundred people we are detecting in your facility."
If Oleg could have seen Mr. Vuden's expression, the depiction of the suit sweating and looking scared for his life would hopefully have been correct.
"Then your scanners are wrong," Mr. Vuden responded meekly. Oleg could almost smell the fear coming off of him.
"I highly doubt that, Mr. Vuden," Oleg said, "Now, I ask you this; are there children and pets on board your installation? I do ever have such a soft-spot for them and would rather not watch as they were hurt for your ineptitude."
Mr. Vuden didn't respond for several seconds, "We don't have any but I will be willing to hand over the two visitors if your promise that we won't be harmed."
Oleg mulled the option for a moment, "That sounds like an applicable agreement, Mr. Vuden. Please, what are the names of these two individuals?"
"One says her name is Sarah and the other says his name is Adrian," Mr. Vuden responded.
"Good!" Oleg exclaimed, clasping his hands together with a roar of contact. He could eliminate Cross' believed command team in one fell swoop. "I will have a shuttle inbound within the hour. Do not alert them to our arrival and ensure that your people are not in the way of fire."
"Understood, I welcome a resolution to this conflict. Vuden out."
Oleg nodded and internally patted himself on the back.
"Incoming fire!" Someone at the back of the CIC screamed.
"What?" Oleg's eyes widened as mass accelerator rounds slammed into the kilometer long mass of Jaguar Knight. It shook and rocked like a boat in an ocean swell. The Kinetic Barriers flared to life, absorbing the blasts and rendering their inertia null. Several of Oleg's frigates and cruisers weren't as lucky, instantly shattering as their spines and reactors were hit.
He punched in a series of commands to his terminal and the projection changed to show Cross' dreadnought and four obviously up-gunned cruisers advance forward from tens of thousands of kilometers away. He growled, slamming the terminal's helm and turning his gaze to his weapons officer. Cross wanted to play a game, and he was going to do so as well.
"Weapons, charge the main thanix battery and fire!" Oleg snarled, "Send all frigates forward at full speed. They will act as sacrificial shields." They were barely crewed; only three would die per frigate. It was an acceptable loss.
The weapons officer didn't respond. Wires stretched out from the back of his head and directly into the man's console. He didn't even move his hands, much less need them. He was an Experimental, one of the few people in Cerberus' armada that had been linked to a vessel.
Oleg's fifteen remaining frigates advanced forward. Javelin torpedoes intermixed with low-caliber Mass Accelerator rounds streaked out from the rapidly maneuvering craft. Oleg knew that they were only good as sacrificial shields; their batteries couldn't even begin to scratch the barriers, much less the armor, of a Justice-class Dreadnought or a Hammer-class Cruiser.
He watched with solemn as five of his frigates were instantly destroyed by Cross' main battery or by her escorts.
There was a single status bar at the edge of the weapon's screen. The thanix battery was fully charged and with a single command, the Experimental sent the molten hot lance of liquid metal cutting across space at insane velocities. The beam struck the bow of Cross' lead cruiser. The Kinetic Barriers died with a flare and spark and the lance cored directly though the vessel. Oleg smirked when he noticed the bridge had been cut from the ship; it was dead and would soon self destruct.
"Target the next and keep firing, let the wench watch as her crew dies," Oleg was aware that Cross likely had vessels at the edge of the system...more of her renegade fleet. This was simply her being an obstinate twit. The Illusive Man had dismissed her as a second-tier threat. Oleg had taken this fleet out by himself to take her down, and he was not to fail his self-established goal.
Alarms blared across the bridge as one of Oleg's cruisers assumed position over the facility. Its bomb bay doors retracted and lowered the various launchers loaded with X-39 White Phosphorus in position.
"Cruiser Valiance, close your bomb bay doors immediately!" Oleg screamed, "NOW!"
"I can't control the systems...sir..as...into...air...system," The commanding officer rasped before the channel died. Explosions rocked the vessel and the bombs fell out of Valiance's body like wasps from a hive. Microthusters activated and guided the bombs to their destination.
Oleg watched in horror as the bombs struck the facility, vaporizing it and the surrounding area. Everything burned and he could almost hear the screams in his mind.
Cross's Deliberator and its escorts had turned, fleeing the system at full speed, leaving Oleg to watch as an entire continent burned.
Fleeing Settler 9
Vanguard Vessel Deliberator
Harold's hands shook as he retracted them from the electronic warfare console. He had just condemned eight hundred men and women to a horrible, painful demise. His eyes were bloodshot as he looked up to Cross. "The...the X-39 warheads have been dropped."
"Survivors?" Cross questioned.
Harold didn't respond, not because he didn't know but because he didn't want to think about how many he had killed. "They would have lived," He finally said, swallowing his fear, "They would have lived if we hadn't interfered and if we hadn't attacked."
Cross shook her head, "Do you really think that? We attacked Oleg because we needed to distract Cerberus, take them away from raiding Alliance and Asari positions and instead focusing on us. We saved more lives..."
"So, we're just resigned to the fact that we're shitty people?" Harold asked. He had bite to his tone. "We just killed 800 in cold blood. Hell it was plain murder."
"We're all shitty people, Harry," Cross said, condescendingly. She was trying to find the right words but couldn't, "We all know that. The only difference between us and Cerberus is that we're..."
"Whatever," Harold said flatly, standing up, "I joined you because I saw what the Illusive Man was doing, his sanity and the fact that he is linked to the UNSC. I thought you were better than him, but obviously I was wrong."
Cross' eyes narrowed like a wolf leaning in for the kill. "Hold your tongue, Harold."
Taking a long sigh, Harold closed his eyes for the briefest of a second, "I murdered 800 innocent men and women and left any survivors to a cold, lonely death by the hands of wild animals and fauna. T."
Cross adjusted her stance, "We spared them from Oleg. He would've..."
"Do we actually know that or is it just your paranoia speaking out again?" Harold questioned.
"I had to do a lot of bad things to get to the top of Cerberus. I know what Oleg Petrovsky is. He would have used, hurt and then discard them like broken toys," Cross responded, "I've felt that man's presence, I've felt what he thinks and it is unspeakable. He's a brilliantly malicious despot-to-be."
"People are variables, Cross," Harold retorted, "They change and are fluid. They aren't static like you think they are."
Cross bit her bottom lip, cold eyes staring directly into Harold, "A person's variability is restrained within a set limit in terms of one's behavior. It's hardly like a scientific experiment, and you know that...perhaps better than I do."
"Perhaps, or perhaps I am right and you are wrong and we...I...just killed 800 people in the most grueling way possible. White Phosphorus, especially X-39 doesn't kill quickly."
"Everything comes to an end, Harold," Cross responded. "And when it does, there's no more pain, no more suffering and all it required was a few brief moments of malice."
Crash site of UNSC Iain
It had started to rain. Heavy, stinging rain drops plummeted to the ground with a roar punctuated by a baritone boasting of thunder and the brilliant, albeit temporary streak of lightning that cast shadows across the landscape. The sky had turned bleak and gray, broken only by the overhead darting of Collector forces as they prowled the landscape for the escaped John-117.
Heavy, powerful footfalls padded along in the rapidly softening ground. My this point, John's armor was smeared with mud and dirt and he moved like a shadow across the landscape. Quick and deadly and always disappearing.
A dark, rapid shadow darted across the landscape, plowing into the form of a lone Collector. John's suit's built-in camouflage system assisted him with this. He would pop out of the shadows for the briefest of seconds, grab a collector by the neck and effortlessly rip it and the spine out of the insectoid beasts. Before the dead creature's comrades could react, John would slide back into the shadows, steadily moving towards the still-smoking form of the Iain.
John's hand reached down, punching through the carapace and grabbing the creature's neck. He clenched his fist and felt the windpipe crumple like dried paper. Beams of energy streaked over his head as several Collectors spotted him and tried to hit him. He dodged and weaved, only allowing a single spear of energy to smash into his shields as he slipped back into the shadows.
"Distance until the Iain?" John asked, turning his head to the sky. Plumes of black and white smoke reached high up into the sky and the still-burning fire cast the entire forest in a dark, red glow.
"Just a second. The Collectors are trying to shut down Iain's computer systems but, in all honesty, suck at trying to knock down the protections I put up. Anyhow..."
"Cortana," John restated.
"Oh, yes. 200 yards." The AI responded.
John heard a chortle of laughter. "What is that?" He asked in response.
"Oh nothing, its just me pumping the hangar bay full of nerve gas to kill the bugs that were being sent to reinforce the already existing troops. They made some noise." Cortana said, "and some kinda...exploded."
John was a bit taken back by that, "Did the Collectors manage to get anything out of the ship?"
"A few Warthogs and a few crates of small arms. Nothing major. I did, however, activate the self destruct on the Warthogs. It'll be a surprise when they try to turn them on. Boom."
John nodded, "Can you find us the quickest way to the Iain?"
Cortana paused for a moment, "Yes. The Collectors seemed to have set up a teleporation grid in the surrounding area. If you can get one of their beacons, I can hack into their system and deposit us as close to Iain as I can."
"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" He questioned.
"Because," Cortana responded, "I didn't even know they had one. When they suddenly appeared inside Iain's hangar, I got suspicious and started snooping. The only reason they didn't put one on you when they captured you was because it interfered with their stasis and containment pod."
That made sense to John. He grabbed his requisitioned Collector beam rifle from his back, checking its power supply via the meter at the side.
"Where's the nearest hostile?" He asked.
His HUD highlighted a lone Collector a few yards away. On its hip was a small triangular prism that shined gold and black. It had Forerunner runes covering it, some obscured by soot, mud and blood. John could tell the creature was in pain. Dragging its left leg on the ground, the Collector had wrapped his right arm around his midriff.
John set a quick neural command and melted into the darkness. His footsteps, even though he weighed as much as a tank, were soft and delicate. He crossed the distance between him and the Collector in little time. He shadowed the humanoid bug for several minutes before it walked into a collection of trees that obscured it from the outside world.
John's infrared and night vision snapped on and effortlessly he pounced on the creature. He tackled it, knees digging into the carapace and collapsing the creature's chest cavity. John finished the squealing creature with a quick jab to the back of the neck, instantly killing the crippled foe.
He reached down in one swift movement and retrieved the teleportation beacon. It seemed to mold to his hand like putty and inside it looked like ink in water. He felt weightlessness overcome him.
"Interesting, it has about as much encryption as a rock. Okay, it's linked to your suit. Activating now."
"Do it," John ordered.
The teleportation beacon unfurled strands of energy that wrapped around John. They pressed against the armor, expanding and molding to the cold, green metal. The strands turned a dark blue, then a brilliant purple before John was consumed in silver light.
The transition was instantaneous and with a clap of thunder, the teleportation beacon vomited John onto the deck of the Iain. He rolled across the deck, slamming into a wall and leaving a significant impression within the entire body shivered as it felt like he had been thrown into an ice cold lake. He clenched his fingers and heard the familiar sound of joints creaking from the cold. His armor automatically detected his condition and quickly started warming the air and the gel layer.
"Huh," Cortana said, "That's weird, the teleportation grid seems to have semi-rejected you from the beam. That would explain your...crash."
"Tell me about it," John said bluntly, pushing himself off the deck. He noticed he had lost his confiscated Collector weapon. "Is there an arms locker nearby?"
"Yup," Cortana answered, "Highlighted on your HUD."
John looked around until his eyes leveled upon a flashing yellow locker embedded within the wall. He walked forward, ripped the door from its hinges and quickly glanced over the inventory. There was a variety of older firearms, mainly MA5B-As, M6Cs and an M45 Semi-Automatic Shotgun. John grabbed one of the MA5Bs, four spare clips and the M45 shotgun. He attached the shotgun along one of the magnetic strips on his back and hoisted the assault rifle. It was heavier than he remembered.
"Watch your fire with that thing, it's a hose," Cortana commented.
John agreed with her. The MA5B-A was a traditional gun using 7.62mm NATO rounds with traditional powder. It was meant to put rounds down range as fast as possible and had been used up until the distribution of Ether, ETC, and Gauss tech by ONI a few years after the war had started. Hopefully, it would subsist for the moment.
"I have a route set up to the nearest terminal. From there, I'll broadcast a message. Hopefully, Infinity will pick up on it," Cortana informed John.
The Spartan nodded and racked back the bolt to the MA5B-A.
Arcturus Station
Alliance Space
Councilor Donnell Udina stood impassively, watching as dozens of air cars and transports, interspersed with Alliance fighters, zipped past the expansive viewing platform that sat at the center of the Navy's headquarters. He noticed that the fighters peeled off from the main collection of transit routes and formed up near the increasing cluster of Alliance warships. There were fifty now; the dreadnought SSV Kilimanjaro, the carriers SSV Armstrong and Warren, destroyers, cruisers and frigates along with several long range bombardment ships.
Udina didn't know what their goals or objectives were, but if the rumors were true, then something was happening on the edge of Batarian space. Worlds were going silent and the Batarians had pulled their forces back to core systems, leaving several slave colonies alone and defenseless.
He smiled, nodding towards a passerby. The Alliance had swooped in with entire battle groups and liberated the defenseless people and executing any Batarian they could find remaining on the worlds. If a Batarian were a slave, they couldn't do anything. Didn't mean the former's comrades couldn't.
In another time, it might have been considered a grievous act of war. But now? The Batarians couldn't defend themselves, and likely wouldn't pull vessels back from the front lines to a collection of minimalistic slave colonies.
He had been summoned to Arcturus a day after Hackett had met with him. It was highly irregular and meant only one thing; the Alliance was about to enter darkness.
He clasped his hands together and leaned against the railing. A cruiser floated by, escorted by two up-gunned Frigates with abnormally large main batteries strapped onto them. If he remembered his weapon types, those were Thanix batteries. He bristled at the thought; the Council would not be happy if word of this spread. It was likely too late now, thought; the Turians, Asari and everyone else were on a direct collision course for war, either with each other, the Collectors or these 'Reapers'. Weapons and ships were being constructed at break-neck paces and armies were being raised everyday.
"Councilor Udina?" Someone asked from behind him.
He turned, eyes landing on an average-height woman with tied back brown hair and piercing green eyes. She had a hawk like expression that spoke of military professionalism. "Yes?"
The woman looked directly at him. She snapped into a sharp salute, "I'm Lieutenant Anason. Admiral Hackett will see you now."
Udina returned her salute casually, "Thank you, Lieutenant."
"Of course. He is in room one."
Udina nodded and found where room one was marked. There was a duo of Alliance guards there and they quickly scanned him for weapons before allowing him through. The heavy oak doors parted and the kinetic barrier dropped for the briefest of seconds to allow the man to step through.
Admiral Hackett sat behind his large oak desk, eyes absently staring at a computer monitor. Tiny models of ships lined the walls and a shimmering projection of Kilimanjaro sat at the center of the room, flanked by two very comfortable looking leather sofas. There was a large window directly behind the Admiral that allotted him the full view of the distant blue star and the collection of fifty Alliance vessels. More warships hung in the distance like asteroids.
"Admiral Hackett," Udina said bluntly.
"Councilor," The Admiral responded, "I'm sure you're questioning your summoning here."
"I am," Donnell confirmed, nodding in agreement, "This is the only time a Crow Contingency has been activated."
Hackett stood, flicking the monitor off and walking over to the massive screen that sat at the end of the wall, "I have good reason to call Crow Contingency, Councilor."
"Elaboration would be most appreciated," He replied. Udina took a seat on one of the couches and the projection of the Kilimanjaro vanished.
Hackett turned away from the Councilor, "Computer, play file "King Alpha Charlie."
"Authentication required," The computer drawled.
"Hackett, one-zero-four-six-one-zero-zero-nine-sixty-four, sierra," Hackett gave the computer what it required and it spat out a beep.
The monitor at the end of the wall snapped on. There was an orange and red sky, streaks of lighting and black specks rained down along with the looming shadow of several massive warships. Lines of fire reached up into orbit and tried to touch the black warships but were ruthlessly interdicted.
A heads-up-display snapped into existence a few seconds later in the video and Udina realized this was a helmet-cam - a Marine's.
The marine was fleeing something with his squad. He cradled a Vindicator battle rifle in his hands and Udina could hear the panting and the grunting as the man pushed through any physical barriers he had and simply relied on his fight or flight instincts.
He was jumping and leaping over debris. There were several burned out tanks and armored vehicles littering the street along with the bodies of the dead. Buildings had collapsed and their steel skeletons were now clearly evident.
Something tripped up the Marine and Udina flinched as a large rock broke the visor. The Marine flipped himself over and tried to get back up. The helmet-cam rotated to show six monsters stalking towards the unfortunate marine. Their bodies were twisted, mutated and a dull bluish-gray. Black blood spilled from open wounds and the tattered remains of Alliance fatigues clung to their forms. They were emitting a piercing screech. Two of the beasts had cornered one of the Marine's comrades and had torn through his armor and started ripping into the exposed flesh. There was blood everywhere and off in the distance, tall spires grew. Spores spilled from them, landing on dead bodies and sinking into the forms.
The Marine fumbled for his gun and fired, blowing two of the converted apart. But it didn't matter - one of the monsters had flanked him, ripping the gun from his hands and flinging the Marine against a wall. Udina saw the Marine's health bar flash red and he guessed there were broken bones.
The infected ran towards the downed Marine, pinning him down, tearing off his armor and flinging his helmet away. They started tearing him apart, leaving limbs strewn about the area before he was encapsulated in silver light and vanished.
Hackett paused the recording.
"That was a half-hour after our meeting was concluded and when I scrambled the 9th fleet to that location, all we found were dust and echoes and these towers. There were no survivors."
"Was...was that a colony?" Udina asked.
"No," Hackett responded. "That was on the world of New Knox. It was a military outpost. Five-thousand troops and a key strategic location adjacent to a mass relay nexus. She was a key site along the Batarian defense line and without her, a massive hole has been created in our tertiary system net."
Udina cupped his hands, covering his mouth, "What...what were those?"
Hackett changed the projection to a massive symbol that now scared the surface of New Knox. It looked like a sideways 'y' with a horizontal line at the bottom. The entire symbol was surrounded by a molten lake of molten metal, earth, and biological material.
"It's them." The Admiral said confidently .
"The Reapers?" Udina asked.
"Yes," Hackett responded, "As of 1400 hours, August 9th, 2184, the Human Systems Alliance has declared the Odyssey Contingency. I have begun calling up all reserves and have brought all naval forces up to combat readiness. We've evacuated the lighter colonies to Sol and I've placed the tenth, third, and first fleets there. That's 300 ships in total including three Kilimanjaros. The rest of the colonies, I've put their forces on high alert and deployed carrier task forces to safe guard them."
Udina stood, hands visibly shaking. He said, "If one of our outposts was attacked..."
"Then the Batarians have completely lost their outer and inner worlds. All that likely remains is their home system," Hackett responded. He adjusted his peaked cap.
Udina rubbed his brow, "War...this means total war..."
"If the transmissions Shepard has sent us are any indication, the Infinity and Captain Lasky are also under attack by forces likely allied to the Reapers."
"Collectors?" Udina questioned. There had been rumors for decades about those insects.
"Yes."
Udina walked to the window, "The implications of this..."
"Are devastating." Hackett finished the Councilor's statement.
Udina pursed his lips and looked back, "Have you told the Turians and Asari of this?"
"Everybody knows, and everyone is preparing. I sent a message to Shepard to start raising his army. The Reapers are hitting quick and hard; they aren't waiting for pawns to be put in place like they did the previous cycle. Intel suggests that they'll bring their main invasion force through the Relays within the next month."
"They likely realize the threat posed by the Infinity and the arms race that has started," Udina guessed.
"I was thinking that also," Hackett responded. "I'd like you to remain here. The Citadel will be a massive target and I've ordered most of Arcturus' relays to be mined. The only way in or out of this system is via Relay 1, the one to Earth."
Udina nodded, "How has Parliament and the PM responded?"
Hackett's expression changed to as if he had smelled something rancid. "Parliament is panicking, demanding I send entire fleets to their respective colonies, no matter how tiny. I told them to let me run a war or have a gag order put on them," Hackett said, "The PM hasn't responded to my messages. Last I checked, he was off-world touring the Vesuvius."
Udina cupped his chin with forefinger and thumb, eyes staring off into the distance. The Prime Minister, Franklin Snow, of the Systems Alliance, arguably one of the most powerful men in the Galaxy, was out touring a recently-commissioned warship that likely had yet to receive its full munitions supply and likely had minimal escorts. It was a giant target.
"I can send him a priority communications package from my account," Udina said, "It'll bypass the normal channels and arrive directly on his omnitool."
Hackett nodded, "If you could do that, I'd appreciate it. A storm is coming, and quickly."
"A storm, Admiral?" Udina scoffed. He walked to the opposite end of the room, pacing. "By all accounts, your word included, this is a category-5 hurricane, and we're the tiny, fragile island in the middle of nowhere about to be hit. We need plans, Admiral. We need plans to evacuate the populace."
Hackett didn't respond, eyes locked on the monitor. "They might have fleets, armies, and weapons that put ours to shame, but we have something else..."
"Shepard?" Udina asked.
Hackett inhaled, "Something else, besides the Commander."
"That is?" Udina asked.
Hackett closed his eyes and squared his jaw, "I've begun to enact the Genesis Plan."
Udina huffed, it was code-name soup around the Admiral, "And what is that again?"
Hackett summoned another projection, this one displaying Alliance space with a minor, very small portion of it blacked out. He zoomed in and Udina's eyes widened as he saw a clone of Arcturus Station and a fleet of two dreadnoughts, fifty cruisers and more frigates than he could count. He stepped tentatively forward, "What is this?"
Hackett clasped his hands together and the hologram expanded to fill the entirety of the room. His face was still cold, blank of emotion. "This, Councilor Udina, are the tools we will use to enact Genesis. This is the Eagle Nebula and in there you'll find an entire fleet, a fully manned and operated battle station by the name of Rigley. There are another twenty, small space stations in the Nebula and surrounded by mines, static defenses and even more up-gunned Cruisers than you see here. Two million people fill all these stations and we can fit nearly 6 billion on the tiny planets inside Eagle."
There could have been more but the infrastructure couldn't support it, nor could the planets sustain that in terms of resources. These planets were small, almost moons and usually rocky, tropical or a combination of such.
"The Council..." Udina muttered, "They..."
"Knows nothing of this," Hackett said, "As far as they're concerned, it's a simple mining outpost utilized by Coalition LLC. If my reports are accurate, the Turians and Salarians also have fallback positions like these."
"How long has this been in existence?" Udina asked. He edged towards the hologram of the Eagle Nebula, studying the ships floating by.
"Arcturus is not the first Torus-class Station; the Eagle Nebula's Rigley's is, however. In regards to the fleet, when we decommission ships, we send the best ones there to be upgraded, up gunned, and up armored. Since we made contact with the Turians at Shanxi all those years ago, Rigley has been in existence. This is not a new thing at all."
Udina's brow twitched, "I don't want to know how you raised the funds to construct this, in secret no less. But if this is your plan, you'll have my support."
"Good, because if the Prime Minister is killed, you'll be it," Hackett said, "And I need a few good men..."
UNSC Iain
John's footsteps echoed through the empty hallway and his shadow rapidly grew and shrank as the light enveloped and vomited him out. He was gripping the bottom of the MA5B tight enough to leave a sizable impression of his finger tips in the metal. Something didn't seem right. He hadn't been followed nor had he encountered any resistance in the form of Collectors.
"Cortana?" He asked, "Do you read anything?"
"Negative, John," She said, flaring into existence in the upper left hand corner of his visor, "That doesn't mean that it's clear though."
John looked at the wall, there was scorching across the entirety of it along with a smattering of Collector webbing. It stunk, even through his armor's olfactory filters.
"What is that?" John asked, referencing to the webbing.
"That's some type of Collector webbing. They put it all over the ship and I think it's to reinforce the structural integrity. The Iain was about to fall apart when we got here, so it makes some amount of sense," She responded, "Okay, take a left and head through the cryobay. It has the nearest intact data connection point."
She felt John shudder at the thought of seeing the bodies of his brothers and sisters, "Are you going to be alright?"
The super soldier nodded absently, "Yes."
"I'll make it quick."
The door to the cryobay swung open and John stepped over the threshold. The chemical emergency lights were still running at some capacity. The room was dark blue with a bright red tint. It reminded him of being inside High Charity all over again. There was a piercing silence that hung in the room and it felt like it was taking hours to reach the data connection point.
John reached back to the base of his neck and yanked Cortana and her chip from his neural interface, sliding the card quickly into the port and leaving it there for her to work.
She flared into existence at a nearby pedestal, controls and read-outs floated around her. Her expression changed, she bit the bottom of her lip and her eyes narrowed, "This is odd, there seems to be a preexisting communications link established already...but to...JOHN!" She cried before she vanished.
John turned and grabbed her chip, reestablishing the neural connection, "Cortana?"
"I sent the message, " She gasped for breath and her form was covered his red and blue bars, "I'm fine...there's another AI..."
The three cryotubes behind John hissed open. He turned, leveling his assault rifle directly at the openings. Mist and steam billowed out and three figures clad in black MJOLNIR armor stepped out. The interior visor lights were activated and he saw three pale, dead faces staring back at him.
Jai.
Adrianna.
Mike.
They spoke as one, voices deep and measured with an underlying tone of impotent rage, "He who wields the Index now stands before us...cast in shadow and fear. John-117...you will see what your command, what your mind brings to life."
Jai's body started to decompose instantly and John backed away, shaking as his fellow Spartan's face twisted and contorted. It was tinged a sickly green and brown and the eyes were glazed over like a beast's.
Cortana had never seen John like this, eyes wide and heart beating so fast it would induce cardiac arrest in a normal human. She felt fear, sadness and...hopelessness race through his mind.
"I am the Bias of the Mountains, given form. I am what you deemed necessary all those years ago, you Broken Being...father," The three spoke, "I brought Him before you...watched as you interred him on the sands of Epitaph."
"Why..." John gasped. He had backed himself into the wall. Cortana saw he was trembling and the assault rifle was wavering as if a weaker man was holding it one handed.
"You are threats, threats to even yourselves and to what you told me to do all those years ago..maintain...maintain." The three said, "I will maintain the Mantle, maintain Forerunner, and I will ensure, that even you false inheritors die. The Mantle is not ready for your ilk. I am Bias, and these are mere puppets."
Gray Team disintegrated, their bones turning to dust and their armor collapsing onto the deck with loud bangs. John ran forward, grabbing the helmet of Adrianna and turning it over in his hand, "No...no...this can't..."
"Detecting Collector vessel moving into position above us. They're powering main weapons. We need to move, now!"
John seemed frozen in place. Three suits of empty MJOLNIR armor lay before him, covered in the dust of Gray Team.
"Jai...Adrianna...Mike..." The Spartan muttered. His voice was weak, strained.
"You are wearing a dead man's face," Bias roared again, mirroring the statement John had heard earlier.
"JOHN!" Cortana all but shouted, directing an electrical current into him, "We need to move, now!"
John was unsteady as he stood, propping himself up on the console.
"This is UNSC Infinity to Commander Sierra-117 and AI Cortana. We are entering orbit, confirm Code Bloody Arrow." Roland said through John's radio.
Thousands of kilometers above, Infinity dropped out of Slipspace with all nine of her Obsidians. Hundreds of Broadswords fell out her launch tubes and descended into the atmosphere below, knocking Collector fighters, mechs and troops from the sky.
"Roland!" Cortana said, "We need immediate evacuation. There's a Collector vessel directly above us."
"Just a second. Energy projectors away. Target down, ma'am," Roland said. "Pelicans en route."
John was gasping for breath, coughing violently. He had seen Spartans die before his eyes before, but not like this...rotting in seconds and reduced to dust with a sleight of hand. He closed his eyes; the light stung. They hadn't died as warriors, they had died as puppets..
"Cortana..." He groaned, trying to steady himself.
"John, I'm here, stay with me. Lasky's scrambling Pelicans to pick us up."
He nodded absently.
"I smell the traitor's stench on you, being I once called master and father."
Next chapter: Chapter 13: Destiny.
Infinity makes contact with Cerberus and more!