"Be careful when you fight the monster, lest you become one." I used to believe that. I used to believe that this war could be fought with our souls intact. But now my eyes are open, and I adhere to a different philosophy. "If you want to fight the monsters, you must become one." That was what the Spartan-II program was about, was it not? Creating monsters. Defying gods. Spitting in our creator's face by dabbing in his realm. Not just the argumentation, you are aware of my feelings for the Spartans. But you kidnapped children. You stole them away and replaced them, not to fight aliens, but to fight our own. And what of the clones? Do they not have souls to forfeit? Do they deserve to know only a moment of life before they expire?
I permitted my mind to be cloned, and from that came an AI. I allowed a piece of my soul to be taken, a bit of my flesh to be molded, and then I allowed that, my sire, my child, to die for no other reason than to craft something unnatural. For that there is no forgiveness.
I am a lost cause. The things that I have ordered, the things that I have done. You fight in the light. You fight with your precious Spartans for all the world to see. I fight in the shadows. And I shall plunge headlong into damnation, but if I can just drag some of the Elites down with me…
Chapter 5
There was a sort of eerie calm, which was mostly the fact that neither Lazar nor Cascus made any hostile gestures as they searched for some entrance to the underground trenches. The two Jiralhanae talked in some private language that Orff's translator couldn't decipher, though they said his name more than once. Some sort of dialect. Tranquility was shattered when Cascus took Orff by the throat and lifted him up off the ground. Not quite choking him, the grip was loose, but it was a strain on his neck that caused him to fidget painfully.
"Do not think that your aid has relieved you of your crimes. Do not think that we required you."
"No, you were doing such a good job on your own," Orff hissed, fidgeting his neck, snapping his mandibles, trying to bite the Jiralhanae. He rattled Orff a moment until the major hung still.
"Cascus," Lazar said.
He put Orff against the wall. The fragile wood of the house gave way, and Orff found himself inside, shaking the spots out of his vision. He rolled onto his belly, then hoisted himself up, rubbing his eyes. He looked around the inside, then to the ground and the rug that his feet stood on. Perhaps these humans were not as intelligent as he first though. Orff squatted, tearing the rug away, exposing the trap door.
"I've found the entrance," Lazar said. Technically, it had been Orff, but he didn't see the point in arguing. He rubbed his mandibles tenderly. The trap door was heavily enforced and boasted a lock that would take him a week to pick. Lazar solved the problem by setting an explosive on the handle and herding Orff out.
"Take this," Lazar said, offering a human assault rifle, scrounged from the prior battle. The Sangheili shrugged. He had to admit, it had a good feel, and he had seen humans bash it over Unggoy's skulls, then lift it and continue firing, so it was certainly sturdy. There was plenty of ammunition. Plenty of grenades to line his belt.
"Sangheili, you are first. Twelve steps forward. Follow my word or I will kill you."
Orff nodded passively and began. The Unggoy gave a collective sigh of relief, freed of the position they were most often forced into.
"Chieftain," Lazar said with a hushed whisper. "I do not believe the major should move first. He has sustained injuries. He won't be keen enough to avoid the traps."
"I will not risk one of you falling victim to an ambush," Sornelus growled, and that was the end of it.
Thankfully, they reached a fork without any confrontations. An open, dome shaped room with a duo of doors pointing in opposite ways. Orff lifted his rifle to his eye and shot the camera that was watching them.
"Cascus, Thantus, Fenus, take ten Unggoy and move down the left side. Radio check in every ten minutes."
"Yes chieftain," they said in unison, heavy forms turning and shuffling off. Unggoy waddling fearful behind them.
"Sangheili, forward."
There was an eerie quiet throughout the halls. The humans must have cut the power, the only illumination came from the flashlight on the Covenant's respective armors. "With respect chieftain, our mutual disdain aside, this is a very bad idea. The humans are skilled at guerrilla tactics."
"Scared?" Lazar mocked.
"Cautious. I am not concerned with your lives, but I would like to live long enough to sire a child."
Sornelus pushed the major against a wall. "Stop your whining and move."
"They know that we are here chieftain. I have shot every camera I can, but they can still trace our path. And these narrow hall ways give us very little cover. These are not civilians, they are not even the grunts. These are elites."
The pressure of the grip increased, the armor that protected his rib cage whined loudly. He closed his eyes and took a breath.
The Unggoy died first. Whether the poor fool was the human's target or caught by a stray bullet wasn't clear. It didn't seem as if they would target the Unggoy for immediate execution. The poor little bastard wheezed and gasped, his methane tank breached, which implied one of the humans had accidentally squeezed off a shot.
Orff may have hated the chieftain, but he was still a soldier at heart, and as a soldier, he knew that the life of his commander was more important than his. He leapt slightly into the air, and bracing his boots against the wall, pushed himself forward and dove at the chieftain, tackling him to the ground as a flurry of bullets rained above them.
Lazar stood there, absorbing bullet after bullet, firing his two Spikers towards the humans, the dark hallways glowing with the orange projectiles. The Unggoy mostly panicked, but one or two held up their pistols and squeezed off shot after shot until they overheated and burned their hands. Orff knew the futility. Even pouring a flood of rounds down the hallways, the humans were ducking inside cover, blind firing their weapons but do to the enclosed space, were getting more than a few lucky hits. He clicked his flashlight off, disappearing into the shadows, and tore the methane tank from one of the dying and dead Unggoy. He snatched a Spike grenade from Lazar's belt, attached it to the tank, and threw it with all his might down the hallway.
He wasn't expecting to kill all, or even most, of the humans, but the explosion and noxious gas disoriented them enough that Orff could charged into their ranks, sword glinting in hand. He was followed by the chieftain, with his massive hammer, and Lazar, who now utilized the blades attached to his Spikers. The humans panicked like leaderless Unggoy, with the three Covenant in their ranks, and were cut down with relative ease.
Sornelus ignited a flare to illuminate the darkness of the room. Orff sighed, flicking a light switch. Above the lights hummed to life. The entire complex was oddly shaped in fact. There were very large rooms, domed and circular, like this, with two doorways, pointing at opposite directions. Orff guessed the underground complex honeycombed extensively. Most of the room must have been like this, filled with nothing but cover for the humans to mount barricades. Somewhere in the center was the main room, where whatever the humans were up to went on. The long hallways, the disorienting rooms, all looking alike. It was meant to confuse any invaders, and it was doing just that. A squad of ten could hold out against an army for any length of time.
"These are ODST troopers," Orff said, observing the armor. "Human elites." He thought to himself. "You were wise to continue the attack chieftain; they are doing something important here. Something that will most likely pose a danger to the Covenant. It is best to deal with such threats in their infancy."
Sornelus growled, lips rolling up and exposing the fangs. He touched a hand to his radio. "Cascus," he growled. "Thantus?"
"Chieftain," they said. "We are experiencing heavy resistance. Every hallway ends in a trap. We have lost most of our Unggoy."
"That is how this base has been designed," Orff said. What a nod of the head implied, the major wasn't sure, but eventually he deduced that the chieftain wanted him to speak. Orff swallowed nervously. "Fan out, check every room. Mark you trail with human blood so you don't get lost. The humans are guarding something very, very important to them. Something that is very, very dangerous to us. Look for computers, look for vials, or weapons, anything that could imply a laboratory or factory or some new Demon they've crafted. Anything out of the ordinary. Anything you've never seen the humans carry in normal battles. Please try to keep any of the sensitive equipment intact. Leave as many humans alive as possible for interrogation purposes."
"Chieftain?" Thantus asked, looking for verification.
"Do as he says," Sornelus ordered. The radio went dead.
There was a subtle groan, as the human who Orff had impaled through the stomach but avoided immediately fatal wounds began to stir. Orff turned and hoisted the human up, taking pleasure in this exhibition of strength. After so much time with the Jiralhanae, he needed this moment to vent, to remind himself why his were the most feared warriors in the galaxy. Why, even if the Jiralhanae had their brute strength, his kind had the sharp minds that trumped such aspects. He pulled off the human's helmet and threw it across the room. He was just a kid, black hair and brown eyes, with the scars that every soldier gets. A scared, but solid look. Firm even in the face of devils. He held him, eye to eye. He sniffed him, for no other reason than to elevate the human's fear. The chemicals in the body reacted differently depending on outside forces. He had learned humans secreted a pungent odor when afraid. This human was afraid.
"Where is the central control?"
"Fuck you squid face," the human spat.
Orff popped the human's right arm, breaking it at the elbow. "Where is the central control?" Pinching the ear tightly between index finger and thumb, the skin tore without much resistance. "Where is the central control?" The human whimpered and soiled himself. His eyes started to roll back into his head, but a sharp smack across the cheek kept him from passing out. "Where is the central control?"
Torture was a form of art. Not simply an act of malice. If he left the Jiralhanae to do this, the human would be dead thick, strong hands closed over the weak chest, and they would not learn anything. The torturer needed to carefully gauge the victims standing, inflict just enough agony that it was intolerable, but not enough that the body should shut down. It was not cruelty that lead him to bat this human around with such ease, simply business. And he believed this was a bit of mercy, if he gave the human to the chieftain, such a fate he didn't wish upon this little beast. He moved his mandibles very close to the human's ear, and said in a hushed whisper, "Please, tell me, and I will make it quick."
The human, the youth with his black hair and brown eyes. "Captain is going to kill you," he said, dazed, skin pale and slick with the blood gushing from his absent ear. "Invisible ink on the walls. Helps us get around. Go ahead. Find it. Captain is going to kill you. This will be your tomb."
The human's neck popped with a flick of the wrist, and he let the body fall. Taking the helmet he had thrown across the room and ordered an Unggoy front and center. He kneeled down so he could better face the sniveling coward and forced the helmet on the head. He had to break off the front of the helmet to compensate for the Unggoy's breathing respirator, but eventually he managed to make it fit. "Can you see anything?" he asked.
"No sir," he said quickly.
Orff finger traced the side of the helmet, at last finding a subtle indent that implied a button. He figured there was a fifty-fifty chance of getting the desired effect, or activating a failsafe that would detonate the helmet and remove the Unggoy's head. That was an accepted risk.
"There are lines sir," the Unggoy said, holding up a clawed hand and pointing at the walls. Hands out in front of him, apparently the altered vision distorted his surroundings, he stumbled out the door, into the left hallway and pointed to the walls. "There are marks sir. Arrows."
"Chieftain, I would advise informing your fellow pack of this new development. Unggoy, lead the way."
Yeah Myranha, I was referring to you, and any other anonymous readers. Ever since I heard Stan by Eminem, I'm more than a bit punctual about answering fans. It's no big deal, but Chapter 6 is the end of this, so if you have any questions or comments, you're going to have to give me some way to contact you. As always, reviews are appreciated.