Chapter XXXIV

Red Squad had arrived at Foundation after a very long flight. At the facility, old friends and new gear were awaiting their arrival. No amount of gear or friends, however, could prepare the squad for what was to come . . .

"Professor Chmura, Commander Schreiber, allow me to introduce Red Squad," Amanda announced gesturing to the soldiers filing out of the Pelican.

"We've met," Commander Schreiber replied while shaking the Chief's hand.

"It is an honor to meet you," Chmura said.

He was a short man, standing only five feet and four inches tall. Of course, anyone who wasn't encased inside the MJOLNIR armor appeared smaller when standing next to the soldiers. He had short, dark brown hair that matched his eyes of the same color. His hands were slightly blackened and calloused from continuous work on his latest project. His white lab coat sported oil stains and darkened patches from accidental 'mishaps'. Despite his disheveled outward appearance, he was a very kind and friendly person.

"I've heard about your travels and encounters throughout all of this and I am truly amazed. Unfortunately I don't think you'll be able to continue your mission as you are now. Of course that is my assumption based on the information I have received from the OSADU. O'Malley is a secretive thing and it is possible we have overestimated his power-"

"Which would mean that all of the work you've been doing over the past few years was all for not," Amanda interjected.

"Look, this is interesting and all, but I think we should see whatever it is you have for us. Time is of the essence," Master Chief said.

Chmura nodded. "Follow us, then."

Red Squad followed Amanda, Schreiber and Chmura from the drop off zone to the other side of the facility, which was almost completely symmetrical. There were four rooms spaced equally apart. If the one room Red Squad passed was any indication, the other three were extremely busy. After the short walk, Red Squad reached their destination.

"Behold!" Chmura said loudly. "I've always wanted to say 'behold'." He cleared his throat. "Behold! The MJOLNIR armor, Mark Twelve!"

Scientists from a multitude of fields were working far past their physical limitations. The super weapon for Installation Zero Four was almost finished, but the main piece of that particular jigsaw puzzle wasn't easy to put into place. All of the measurements had to be perfect. Not a single piece of equipment could be even infinitesimally misaligned. These were not merely the specifications of a tyrannical overlord; these calculations and measurements had to be perfect, or else the super weapon could misfire. Normally, that wouldn't be such a problem. After the nearly one thousand years of hard work that had been put into these megastructures, however, O'Malley wasn't about to put up with a problem that resulted from laziness. Even the most miniscule error could result in a catastrophic meltdown that would annihilate the solar system it was located in. O'Malley's only problem with that possibility was the deaths of all the people would be instantaneous and relatively painless. That just wouldn't do.

The AI itself was currently en route to a building located out on a massive plateau. The Pelican-Class transport touched down at the end of the formation as requested. After it left, O'Malley looked out over the edge of the sheer cliff and off towards the horizon.

"So, our little charade is comin' to an end, huh?" Sarge didn't bother to hide the sadness in his voice.

"I'm afraid so, my friend." O'Malley replied.

Sarge turned away from the setting sun and slowly walked away. The small outpost that was their destination sat not too far from their current position. A copper colored bridge-like structure connected two segments of the cliff edge that were separated by a river. An identical structure ran parallel to the first several meters beneath it. Sarge crossed the ravine and turned right, walking up a hill. Vegetation was scarce on the installations and the only flora on the planet was grass. Seeds from natural plants had been planted in hopes of making the installations look disarmingly peaceful, but they had yet to sprout. The genetically mutated plants, however, had grown at an alarming rate and had almost completely taken over the swamps.

"Whaddya plan on doin to me?"

O'Malley cycled his response through his processing core. His intention had been to kill Sarge once he had requisitioned his new body, but the more he thought about it, the closer he came to changing his mind. Sarge had asked this question previously, but that was before he had been given the chance to prove himself.

"I had planned on granting you a quick and painless death due to your cooperation and assistance in my efforts," O'Malley explained.

"I understand."

"However, in light of recent events," O'Malley paused his response in order to jump off a ledge. "I have decided to spare your life," O'Malley said. Sarge had resumed walking, but stopped when he heard those last words.

"Yeh . . .what? Spare me? Ya mean I get ta live?"

"Even better than that, my friend."

Sarge rounded the cliff wall and the outpost came into view, along with a procession made up of all of O'Malley's Generals, Sergeants and other underlings. O'Malley's personal band was present and began playing his anthem when he came into view. The top scientists from the genetic and cybernetic fields were present as well.

"All o' this for yer new body? This seems a bit extravagant, O'Malley."

"They aren't here just for me, Sarge."

"Did someone get a promotion?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"You'll see."

Sarge led them through the rows of military personnel. A smaller structure sat close to the main part of the outpost and was almost entirely surrounded by large tubes. The area that wasn't was wide enough for Sarge to walk through. The sergeant followed the small path that the tubes and the outer wall of the structure created until they reached a door. It slid open and Sarge walked inside. The door closed behind them and Sarge led the two down several ramps before arriving at the bottom level. The almost room was circular, but the end where the ramp connected to the floor narrowed slightly. At the opposite end of the basement a familiar figure hovered above the floor, suspended by repulsor fields. O'Malley's body was awaiting its mind.

Thanks to the newest recruit from the Red Army Special Weapons Development, O'Malley's body was encased inside the new MJOLNIR Mark Twelve Point One Combat Suit. Basically, it was the original Mark Twelve, but with the addition of an Electric Discharge System built into the gauntlets of the suit which would allow O'Malley to shoot red lightning from his fingers.

"Well Sarge, this is it. Make sure everything goes according to plan."

"Ya got muh word, O'Malley."

Sarge felt something withdraw from his body, like part of him was leaving. The tingling feeling spread through his feet and worked its way up the man's body until every inch of his body felt like it was asleep. The feeling stopped at the back of his head and he felt the insertion spike pull out of his brain. Sarge was alone inside his body once again, but this time, it was an unwelcome aloneness. The pins and needles feeling dissipated and Sarge watched as the once comatose body began to twitch slightly. O'Malley was interfacing with the neural radio inside of his body's head.

Every time a red light came on, Sarge pressed the appropriate key sequence that unblocked different sections in the radio. O'Malley had to interface with the radio one section at a time to make sure everything was working properly. If O'Malley interfaced with the entire radio at once, the body might encounter irreversible neural complications. The signal from O'Malley that he was ready to progress was the red light and Sarge was in charge of granting the AI access to transfer to other sections of the radio. As he was doing this, strange voices came to his mind.

He'll kill your squad, Sarge, the voice whispered. He'll kill them all, slowly and painfully.

Sarge typed in another key sequence as the red light beckoned to him.

Think of Simmons, Sarge. He loved you like a father. The voice grew slightly louder. He was your right hand man. Are you going to betray him?

The red light called again and Sarge typed in the correct keys, only a bit slower.

What about Donut? He was like a son to you. You could always count on him to get the job done, Sarge. You would allow him to die as well? The voice was no longer a whisper. It was talking to him.

The red light flashed again and Sarge answered it, but with hesitation.

You would let that monster kill Grif instead of doing it yourself? That was one of your aspirations, Sarge. Would you let that go to waste? The voice was not shouting, but it was definitely not an inside voice.

The red light winked at him and Sarge slowly pressed the keys. His responses were growing slower.

What about your family, Sarge? The ones you swore to protect? Even the man with the garden hose who claimed to be your uncle? Would you let them all down? The voice was nearing a shouting level.

The red light blinked and Sarge almost input the wrong number sequence.

What about that color, Sarge? Red? You were one of the Red Army's most loyal soldiers. You risked everything countless times to make sure the Blues never won. You would go so far as to turn your back on them? You would leave them in their hour of need? The voice was bellowing into his mind. His vision was becoming slightly blurred and his head was throbbing.

The red light buzzed to life one last time and Sarge paused.

I gave my word . . . and that was all I had left to give.

He keyed the alpha-numeric sequence one last time; 19-5-13-16-5-18-6-9.

The End

Red vs. Blue: The Master Chief Saga Part II

The secrets of O'Malley's Installations

The fate of Private Church, Private Tucker and the Rhinoceros

Master Chief's enigmatic past

The horrible truth about the parasite

The end of it all

Winter 2006