Truth's moment was seized at last,

That they would regret.

For the Flood, it had no mercy,

A fact they'd not forget.

Halo: Primordial

Chapter 3: Flood

"You know sometimes…I look in the mirror. And I don't recognise myself anymore."

"I do. You're just as ugly."

Akaash didn't snigger, or smile, or make any motion that indicated amusement. Twenty, even ten years ago, he might have done so. But he couldn't anymore. Not after two decades of work on the same gods-damn space station orbiting the same gods-damn planet, all in an effort to prevent that planet from falling to the same gods-damn parasite that had sprung up in every corner of humanity's empire.

"Huh. You're a bore."

Akaash glared at Irt, standing beside him as they glanced down towards Charum Hakkor. She was a san'shyuum. Blessed with longevity, she didn't show any signs of age. She didn't have to worry about wrinkles, or facial hair that he'd grown tired of removing, or any of the other things humans did.

"Something wrong?"

And she was incredibly dense as well. So still scowling, Akaash withdrew his gaze and glanced back at the test subjects.

All of them glanced back. Or at least the infected did, though many of them no longer had discernible eyes. All of them were in stasis, a limitless supply of test subjects the station had at their disposal in regards to combating the Flood. All of them unaware of his existence. And yet, staring at them, Akaash couldn't help but wonder if he was being watched in turn.

"Nice, aren't they?" Irt said, walking over to them. She pointed to one of the infected. "See that one? I call him Tag."

"Why?"

"Named after my father. Big. Brutish. Unpleasant to be around."

Akaash snorted. Irt smiled in turn. "Good," she said.

"What is?"

"That. I've been working with you long enough to understand a snort is a sign of humour."

Akaash's smile faded. It was true. And it reminded him of how banal his existence had become that the only humour left to him was pointing out what was actually humorous in the first place. Back in a time when humour was come one, come all. Not a time when every report he read was of more people being infected, of humanity's domain further destabilizing, of Flood spreading to more worlds than they could count.

Beep beep beep beep.

And of a time when he could look Upernavik in the eye and not feel like he'd failed him. And all humanity.

Akaash ran his pinkie down the centre of his palm, silencing the transponder. As useful as such implants were, a drawback was that there was no escape from them. He glanced at Irt, and she nodded. Another meeting, one where yet again, she wasn't invited. With the human-san'shyuum alliance destabilizing as the domain of the former species crumbled, it seemed that trust was crumbling as well.

"Go on then," Irt said. "I'll just stay here. With Tag. And every other poor sod."

Akaash remained silent. A decade ago, he would have said something. Something that would have demeaned Irt and/or her species. But he couldn't. Not now. Not when humanity was acting like it wanted to be made extinct. Blowing off the san 'shyuum was just part of that suicide pact. Almost as suicidal as actually walking into the meeting room and seeing Upernavik seated at the far end of the table.

"Hello Akaash."

And with Yprin beside him. Unlike the Florian, she was willing to speak.

"Have a seat."

And still give orders.

Grimly, Akaash obeyed, sliding onto his chair like a child coming before a mentor. Yprin remained standing. Upernavik remained seated. The door hissed shut behind him.

"No-one else coming?"

"They'll find out in time," the Florian said. He looked up at Yprin. "Show him."

Yprin extended her palm onto the centre of the table, making a connection. A hologram of a world appeared, one like any other as far as Akaash could tell.

"This is Cordoba," Yprin said. "Or was Cordoba."

"What do you mean was?" Akaash asked, a tingle spreading down his spine.

"Because this is what Cordoba looks like now."

The image changed. The planet remained the same except where it was once green and verdant, it was now smouldering glasslands. Akaash looked at Yprin.

"Does this mean something?" he asked. "A glassed planet, what of it? We've sterilized worlds before. We've been doing it for the last five years."

"True," Yprin said. "But this is the first time we've carried out the process on a Forerunner world."

The tingle in Akaash's spine became a rush of ice.

"Oh yes," the political and morale commander continued, her grim visage conveying that morale was the last thing she was able to uplift right now. "The Flood reached the Forerunners. A process that twenty years ago, I might have taken a degree of satisfaction from. But no, Forthencho and his ilk decided it was best to burn it, destroy its fleet, and keep pressing into Forerunner territory to sterilize any possible infection site."

Akaash leant back in his seat and put a hand to his head. He kept it there, running it through his hair.

"So then," Yprin said, "in addition to every human that's fallen to the Flood, we've got two billion dead Forerunners to add to the casualty list, and billions more who aren't going to be happy about that." She shut down the hologram. "So, tell me Akaash, what happens now?"

He sighed, rubbing his eyes. "It means that we're now going to be fighting a war on two fronts, the Flood within our territory and the Forerunners outside it. It means-"

"No!" Yprin yelled, slamming her hands down on the table and glaring at Akaash with the gaze of a merse. "It means that you're going to give me the solution to my problems, something you should have done years ago! It means you're going to solve our Flood problem so that gods help me, I can find a way to ensure the Forerunners don't wipe us out!"

Akaash glared back. A moment ago, he sympathized with Yprin's plight. It was the same plight that he shared. But now, he felt something that he hadn't done in years – anger. He'd ceased to be angry about the Flood, but a fellow human…that was different.

"This is my fault?" he whispered. "After all I've done, after all everyone else has done, after what Forthencho has done…this is my fault?!" He got to his feet. "You want me to save the day?! Well, I'm sorry, but I can't!"

"That's a lie."

The humans' eyes turned to the Florian. Old eyes, Akaash could see. Older than they had any right to be. Eyes that met his own.

"There's one solution," Upernavik whispered. "One that you postponed in putting forward."

"Don't do this," Akaash whispered. "Please…"

"Akaash, what is it?" Yprin asked. "If you know something-"

"Don't do this," Akaash pleaded. "Upernavik, I'm begging you…"

"I don't care," the Florian said. "For over twenty years Akaash, I've been in this fight. I've watched us lose. I've been informed of a moment that may seal all our fates. Your solution may be the only thing that allows our species to survive."

"It's not a guarantee, it-"

"Akaash, if you don't spit it out, the only guarantee is that the only way you'll be leaving this room is with a broken neck!" Yprin yelled.

Akaash glanced at Upernavik. He refused to meet his gaze.

Bastard.

"Well?" Yprin asked. "Whatever it is, it can't be worse than the situation we're already in."

Akaash sighed. He pressed his palms against the table and lowered his head. He couldn't remember when he came up with the idea. The moment of realization had been horrible that he'd erased it from his mind. Horrible that he'd even considered it. And horrible that it could work. And as data streamed from his palms, as a new hologram was displayed, he realized that none of its horror was lost.

"Gene warfare," he whispered. "We fight fire with fire."

Yprin stared at the data. Out of the corner of his eye, Akaash saw Upernavik bury his face in his hands.

"The Flood rewrites our genetic code to its advantage," Akaash continued. "So we deny them that asset."

"We've been denying them assets for years," Yprin murmured.

"I mean something more cost effective. We take the human DNA sequence. We alter it to it becomes poison to the Flood. The hosts are consumed, yes. But the Flood biomass is destroyed in the process."

Yprin studied the data. Akaash looked at her. She…seemed to be actually considering it.

"Can it work?" she asked.

"I…well…"

"It can," Upernavik murmured. "At the cost of one third of the human population."

To her credit, Yprin became as pale as a sigma. For a moment at least. Her composure and colour returned almost instantly.

"One third is what it would take for maximum effect," Akaash whispered. "Billions of human lives to save billions more." He glared at Yprin. "That's a sacrifice I wasn't prepared to make."

Yprin flexed her fingers, staring at her hand. As if waiting to see when blood would appear on it. "Is this theoretical?" she asked eventually.

"Well, yes, but the sacrifice-"

"Don't talk to me about sacrifice Akaash, you're not in the position to decide who has to make it." She turned to Upernavik. "Suppose this works. How quickly could the Flood be eradicated?"

"Months, maybe years…of course, there's testing involved, but-"

"I need an answer. A definite one."

"Then I'm sorry," the Florian said. "But I don't have one."

"Fine. Then I'll get one."

Akaash felt that chill down his spine return as Yprin focussed her gaze on him. Even more so as she walked towards him. And as she talked, he felt like he'd gone into cryogenic suspension.

"I need an answer," she whispered. "So I'll ask you this question, and I want it answered simply – can this work?"

Akaash lowered his gaze.

"Can. It. Work?"

"Yes," Akaash sighed. "To my knowledge, it-"

"What is the margin of error in that answer?"

"I…um…sixty percent?"

Yprin closed her eyes. Akaash glanced towards Upernavik. He too had his eyes closed. The way he was seated, it was as if he never wanted to open them again.

"This question," Yprin whispered. "Is it…known…to you?"

"What?"

"Are you familiar with the data on a biological basis? Could you tell me everything there is to know about it off the top of your head?"

"I…well, yes, I guess."

Yprin turned away.

"But why? I can give you electronic data, but-"

"I'm not the one you have to give the data to."

Akaash stared at her. The tingle in his spine remained. And seeing the look in her eyes, he could feel that tingle spread through his entire body. Especially as her eyes locked in on his own.

"The question will be answered," Yprin whispered. "And to do that, it must be asked."

"Wh…what?"

"The Oracle," Yprin said. "The Oracle shall give us our answer."