On Charum Hakkor, I begin my tale,
The beginning of the end.
When humans still had allies,
Those they once called friends.
Halo: Primordial
Chapter 1: Trickle
Akaash Ranjan hated teleportation.
Technically it was slipspace translocation, but being a scientist in the field of medicine, he was willing to leave the technicalities to people who cared about them. It looked like teleportation, it sounded like teleportation, and every time he emerged at his destination, it sure as the Glow felt like teleportation. So that was what he called it. And when a voice echoed throughout the chamber that the "slipspace translocation" was complete, he cursed under his breath.
Occupant may now step down from the platform.
He did so, not glancing back as the arms closed in on the portal, collapsing it back to a sub-atomic level to where it would dissipate. His eyes meanwhile glanced around the chamber as a whole. It was large, drab, and bereft of life. The only exceptions were a hatch on the far side of the room and a window that looked out into space.
"Hello?" he called out.
There was no answer. Some hairs on the back of his neck pricked up, but he kept moving, headed for the window. He knew what his destination was, or what it was meant to be. And looking out into the void of space, and the spherical object below, it was confirmed.
Charum Hakkor.
Akaash glanced around, wondering if he should just go ahead and exit the chamber. But he remained in place, unmoving. Just as surely as the world below was unmoving. True, it orbited its sun, which orbited the galaxy, which engaged in the same celestial dance as all children of the Great Moment of Creation. But the laws of gravity aside, Charum Hakkor would remain in place. Eternal. Unchanging. He watched as ships came and went, holes into slipspace opening and closing all around the world and throughout the entire system. He made out the orbital arches of the Precursors, their chosen children's cities winding their way up them. Ever higher. Ever closer to gods. A testament to Man and the Mantle.
"I take it you enjoy the view."
And not a testament that Akaash could afford to keep looking at. For turning his gaze away from the capital of Man, he saw the one who had approached him. Alien, but still an ally. Below humanity, but still useful.
"Irt Azhaar," she said, holding up the palm of your hand in greeting. "Colleague. Friend, maybe. Acquaintance, certainly, for we cannot operate without such a level of continuation."
"I'm sure," Akaash murmured, trying to mimic the visitor's finger positions and failing. It was bad enough that the height difference allowed Irt to look down on him, but already he was showing his physical limitations.
He had to hand it to the san 'shyuum – they knew how to play their slates.
Akaash silently followed as Irt walked towards the door from which she'd entered the chamber. The door opened and out came a trio of micro-drones, flying back to his point of entry and enacting what looked like decontamination procedures. Either the lord and master of this space station was taking such protocols to the extreme, or he (or she) had a much lower opinion of him than what Irt did.
"Was your trip pleasant?" she asked.
"Fine," he lied.
"I know that Yprin Yprikushma selected your personally," the alien continued, the pair now walking down a narrow corridor that was flanked by even more micro-drones. "That she has a high opinion of your abilities."
"I do what I can," Akaash murmured. He enjoyed praise, but not when it was so calculated. So cold. Not when a san 'shyuum stretched her neck back and stared at him with those large brown eyes surrounded by olive skin.
"And will you do it?" Irt asked. "Did you choose to? Did you want to? Is it duty that compels you, or personal interest?"
"I, um…"
"Ah, I see. You don't know yet."
"Know what?"
"What's going on," Irt said, turning her head back around and continuing to walk. "Well, it doesn't matter. If you weren't trusted on the surface, then I can only assume that she wanted Apostle Upernavik to tell you."
"Who?"
"And either you are not as good at keeping secrets as I might have hoped, or you have poor memory."
And the san 'shyuum kept walking. Moving through the corridor, Akaash glanced back at the world below. Unchanging. Eternal. And right now, a place he'd rather be.
After all, Charum Hakkor was his home. His birthworld. He'd gone from one side of the Orion Arm to the other, but he always ended up back here. That was where he was found. Where he was briefed. Where he was told to report to the Administrative Centre three days after initial notification and embark on an assignment that was top secret, suited to his skills, and if he pulled through, would come with great reward. That he'd be working with a non-human hadn't been mentioned at all. San 'shyuum were at least civilized, which was more than he could say for most of the races of the galaxy, but were still company he preferred not to keep.
"We're here."
But for now, he'd be keeping her company. For now, he'd be playing second string. Or third. Because in this chamber, smaller than the first but surrounded by lights and screens made out of said light, he could see they weren't alone.
"Apostle Upernavik to see her."
Akaash walked over to him. And then stopped.
"Oh, don't worry about staring, everyone does," the newcomer said. "I get it, you meet with proverbial gods who like to think themselves akin to literal gods, then you see me. Well, here I am." He stuck out a hand. "Apostle Upernavik. And you're at my service."
Akaash knelt down and shook it, finding the grip to not be firm. Fitting, considering it was the grip of a Florian.
"Well then," Upernavik said. "Down to business." He sniggered. "Heh. Down."
Akaash smirked. Irt glanced at him and then glanced away, muttering something in her naked tongue that involved the word "hamanune" a lot. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad, Akaash thought. Upernavik seemed decent, possessing curly brown hair and a pudgy, almost child-like face (even by Florian standards) – a much more welcoming visage and persona than what Irt had provided so far.
"So, come on then," the apostle said. "Don't dawdle. The gods have given us the short end of the stick, we've got to make it longer."
And he seemed to fall into the camp of denominations who treated the Precursors as literal gods, Akaash noted. Not that that was a problem, he supposed.
"So," Upernavik continued, coming to another glass window but this time, overlooking an interior chamber. "I see you've met Irt." He glanced up at her, and Akaash was briefly reminded of a child who wanted to look up his mother's dress. "Specialist in cellular regeneration, aimed to unlock the secrets of immortality."
Akaash snorted. Irt glared at him.
"And you, my boy, are one of our top minds," Upernavik said, turning his gaze to the haramune. "General biology, only real specialization being in cross-species genetics. Reproduction, infection, assimilation…"
Akaash nodded. It was true. But he failed to see the connection. San 'shyuum had been searching for the secret to immortality long before humanity ever made contact with them. And while it was true that he was something of a specialist on how alien biology could interact with that of humans, it wasn't out of any great interest or love. It was a human galaxy that, Precursors willing, had put humans first. And even if some species didn't accept that, they had to learn their place. Even san 'shyuum. Even Forerunners.
"So I assume that your knowledge of biology extends to non-sapient species," Upernavik continued.
Akaash opened his mouth to answer.
"Good. So you know what a pheru looks like."
Akaash did, but as a hatch opened in the chamber below, he was presented with one anyway. He glanced at Upernavik.
"A pheru? You brought me here to study pets?"
"No, I brought you here because what you're seeing is but one part of what you're going to study," Upernavik said. He glared at Akaash, all warmth in his eyes gone. "And you'll let me speak."
"Is this necessary?" Irt whispered. "I've seen this. I don't-"
"You'll watch it."
Irt cursed in her native tongue. Akaash raised an eyebrow. But he let the Florian speak anyway.
"Pets," the apostle said. "Altered through artificial means via a type of powder over the last few centuries. Selective breeding, nothing that we haven't done before."
Akaash watched the pheru below. It sniffed the floor. It glanced up at the window. Akaash stared back.
"The pheru before you is original stock," Upernavik said. "Unaltered. Bred in the depths of Edom, imported here for this demonstration."
"Demonstration?"
Upernavik grimaced. Akaash saw Irt bite her lip. Down in the chamber, a second hatch opened. And…something came charging out of it. Another pheru. But larger. Greener. With organic growth and tentacles extending from its body.
The first pheru didn't stand a chance.
"Watch it," Upernavik said, grabbing Akaash's hand and glaring at him, meeting his gaze and directing it back to the window. "Watch what happens when a pheru that's been exposed to the…substance comes into contact."
It was first contact of the violent kind. The type of contact that involved a lot of blood, guts, and mangled fur. It didn't last long. But the corpse remained.
"It's an infection," said Upernavik gravely. "The pheru have been infected by the same substance we used to alter them. A substance that not even I know where it came from, but I wish to the gods we never found."
"Then why…do you need…me?" Akaash breathed.
Upernavik glanced at Irt. "Show him."
The san 'shyuum extended a palm of her hand. A hologram shone through the skin, courtesy of an implant. It showed a san 'shyuum lying on a bed, its flesh mottled and green. Almost like the second pheru.
"This disease has crossed the species barrier," Irt said. "We don't know how, or when, or how many worlds this poses a risk to. Virtually every pheru has been altered by the powder, but not every one of them is infectious." She deactivated the hologram. "That's why you're here, Apostle Ranjan. Cross-species infection."
"But, can't we just-"
"No, we're not going to spark panic, or eradicate every pheru," Upernavik said. "We're going to keep doing what we're always doing. Study. Develop a cure. Save more lives before this…trickle…becomes a flood."
"But I-"
"And it's infected humans too," Upernavik said. "Not something that anyone would ever be trusted with on Charum Hakkor's surface." He sighed. "It seems that the powers that be didn't trust you with anything."
Akaash watched as Upernavik pressed a button on his suit. Down in the chamber, a trio of micro-drones descended from above, zapping the infected pheru back into its pen. It briefly glanced at Akaash, making eye contact, before giving a hiss of rage and scuttling along. Simultaniously, another trio of drones arrived and incinerated the corpse of its uninfected counterpart.
"If this is so infectious…" Akaash began. "Why are we researching it above our capital world?"
"Ease of control," Upernavik said. "And don't worry. If there's even the slightest chance of a containment breach, the facility will enter subspace, where it will be torn apart by an in-built neutron bomb. And if for some reason it can't do that, the neutron bomb will detonate anyway, collateral damage be damned."
"And if it doesn't do that?"
"Then a fleet of ships arrives, and blasts us to oblivion." The Florian smirked. "Which, believe it or not, is the far more merciful option than leaving us to the alternative."
Akaash looked down at the chamber. At the blood splatters that the micro-drones had yet to remove.
All things considered, it was an alternative he didn't want to experience.