Chapter Nineteen
Era of theGreat Betrayal, Act of Retribution \
En route to Resplendent Key
"We are approaching the system edge," reported the golden-clad Sangheili.
"Good," replied F'enr Gran "We shall remove ourselves from holy space shortly, I would like an immediate report on the system and what we may encounter."
"Yes, Oracle Master," replied the ship master as he scurried off to carry out his orders.
The Elite was deep in thought. He knew as little about the planetary system as the next Sangheili, and he was wary of the Oracle's description. He only knew this to be the only path laid out before him and his race.
The Prophets know nothing of vengeance.
"Please, proceed with caution," warned 343 Guilty Spark. "The area has been known to contain anomalies."
"I have no need for that advice," replied F'enr. "We have been as careful as necessary."
Gravity shifted as a blur of green dots appeared in the vacuum of space. The massive fleet had emerged from slipspace and were hastily powering up after their re-entry into normal space. The system was dark, as though all light were extinguished around the mass of ships.
"Why is there such darkness, Oracle?"
"Oh, my. It seems as though the fission light radiator at the core of this system has malfunctioned."
"You refer to the sun –"
"Yes, as you may think of it. This entire system was created, including its source of power and light."
F'enr was not happy to hear this news. They would need to tread softly, lest the last remnants of his race be obliterated.
"Very well. Lead us to the Key."
The explosion slightly startled the Spartan. A Brute howled as its target was not felled. On the contrary, its mark was barely fazed. John stood for a split second in amazement – the shot had scored a direct hit on his back, yet he had barely felt its effects. He turned to face his attacker, which had bore down on the Spartan, blade raised. It lowered a blow as John raised his arm in defense.
Despite a direct hit, the Brute's attack damaged nothing. Again surprising to John, the blow did not hurt him. No, the beast's attack seemed to empower him – he pushed off and the beast toppled over. As it struggled to regain footing, its eyes rolled up as a bullet pierced its skull. The Brute fell over one more time, this time dissolving into thin air as it hit the ground.
"Damn, why the hell did I come out for this?" bellowed a disgruntled Griffith. "These damn robots are taking all the kills!"
The corner of Linda's lip twitched – the equivalent of a beaming smile for the Spartan in the midst of combat. It was good to be back in the saddle. She did not, however, appreciate the 'robot' quip.
"Interesting," keyed Dr. Halsey over the armor's COM system, "The armor absorbs kinetic energy…it seems to repurpose the energy somehow. Fascinating…."
John could scarcely believe it himself. Was the artificial reality really trying, or did this armor really just do what he thought?
He had little time to wonder – a group of Jackal snipers had taken aim as two pairs of Hunters supported by Grunts flanked him. He cursed under his breath that he would allow himself to be cornered. The Hunters had forced him into a sniper alley, a perfect strategy.
The air sizzled with sniper fire as Jackals sent poorly aimed shots at the Master Chief, and the jungle floor shook with each stomp of the approaching Hunters. Plasma fire peppered his position as the Grunts approached, but they were dispatched easily. The Hunters were close, however, and he had to get out of this predicament. John began to run when it happened – a plasma beam hit him square in the face. John was knocked backward; eyes closed expecting to be blinded or worse. He blinked once and realized he was fine. He shook it off as the first pair of hunters emerged on his left.
Spartan-117's energy spiked as the Hunters raised their charged beam cannons and fired. John had no time to escape this salvo, yet his body moved with lightning speed as the fuel rod cannons cut a swath of destruction through the jungle. They tried to track the Spartan but he was a blur, even to himself.
John dashed around and picked up the dropped Brute shot, circumnavigating the area around the Hunters in mere moments as they struggled to find him. He came up behind the first and fired a pair of high-velocity grenades into its exposed back. The Hunter keeled over in defeat as John slammed the weapon's blade into the second Hunter's back.
As quickly as John finished the job, he heard the familiar whine of Banshees approaching. He spun around to face the new threats when he heard a crash to his right – two Wraiths had blown through the trees with their auto-cannons blazing and plasma mortars ready to fire. John swore as he heard shrieks over his COM system and Banshee fuel rod mortars detonated nearby. The suit, however powerful it may be, could not possibly absorb or deflect a hail of direct mortar blasts. The Wraiths fired and time seemed to slow –
Not gunna make it…
Suddenly, time sped up as if to catch up to itself, and John found himself whole. He was, however, nowhere near his previous position. Rather, he was ten meters behind the Wraiths. Astonished, his killer instinct kicked in. He ran toward the massive machines and jumped on the first. He jammed his fist through the back panel and snuffed the life out of the driver. The Spartan clambered into the temporarily unmanned vehicle and took the controls, subduing the second threat with a barrage of mortar blasts.
John braced himself for more, but the jungle remained silent.
"Status?" he barked.
"All enemy contacts neutralized," reported Johnson. "Christ, Chief, you got some voodoo armor or something."
The jungle melted away and the testing group was left standing in a sterile-looking chamber. Their weapons having disappeared as well, they marched toward the sole opening leading into the next room.
"One stinking kill," muttered Griffith.
John smirked – he knew the sole reason for that solitary kill was Linda's generosity. The group filed into the facility's antechamber, where Dr. Halsey, Commander Keyes, and Johnson stood overlooking data and footage from their test. Kelly and Fred walked through another door accompanied by several ghostly Spartan-IIIs, having withstood a separate barrage of tests.
"You're right, I do love this," said Fred, tracing arcs with his plasma knife shortly before it vanished like the other weapons.
"…I assure you, his life was not in danger," said Mizore.
"Reminds me of the whole Ackerson debacle when we tested the Mark V," commented Cortana.
"It was merely fleshing out the combat suit's capabilities. Not even I know its full potential, but I can assure you the artificial reality was within its limits," continued Mizore.
"Does the artificial reality take the wearer into consideration?" asked Halsey.
Mizore seemed to hesitate as he responded, "The Reclaimer that dons the suit is in no mortal danger, at least while in the chamber."
John contemplated the exchange as Dr. Halsey dismissed most of the group back to the armory. John, however, approached her with plenty of questions.
"This armor is astounding," she started. "Like I was saying before, it absorbs kinetic energy and repurposes it to your advantage," she continued, pointing at the scene from moments ago being replayed on her screen. The Brute shot's blade did not seem to make contact with John's arm, rather he seemingly defied the laws of physics by immediately shooting forward and slamming his fist into the Brute's face.
The video skipped ahead to his encounter with the Hunters. "This has been slowed to twenty-five percent real-time," commented Cortana, as John marveled at how quickly he dispatched the enemies. The video skipped back to John's retrieval of the Brute shot and slowed even further.
"Impressive," said Kelly, having stayed alongside the Master Chief. "Might even get close in a race."
John scarcely heard her – he was busy pondering what he had just seen on the screen. He had indeed intended to retrieve the Brute shot, but the manner in which he recovered it was what caught his attention. He was running full speed, but was a solid meter away from the weapon when it seemed to launch itself into the Master Chief's hand, allowing him to continue without breaking stride. He had been moving so fast that the manner in which he obtained the gun was an afterthought.
John turned to Dr. Halsey and she cut him off, "This armor a scientific marvel. Not even a wishlist of capabilities would have contained some of the abilities this thing has."
"How did I get out of this?" John asked, pointing at the viewscreen which was showing his ordeal with the Wraith tanks.
"I honestly don't know," replied Catherine. "Perhaps Mizore could shed some light on the subject?"
"Do you not know?" he asked John. The Spartan remained silent. "Yes, well, you were in a situation you thought inescapable thus the suit transported you to a more suitable location. Of course, the combat skin would have been able to withstand the vehicles' attacks."
"How?" the doctor continued.
"By utilizing a slipspace modulation field that the combat skin creates, of course. It is intended for extremely short-distance jumps, precisely how the Reclaimer utilized this feature."
"Amazing. Thought-driven slipspace transport – I thought the violent nature of slipspace travel would be far too dangerous…," Dr. Halsey trailed off as she whisked out of the room.
John and Kelly were left staring at the screen in the room. They shrugged their shoulders as they began to make their way to the armory. John began to ask Kelly how their testing had gone when suddenly the ship shuddered and loud bangs were heard emanating from within.
"Everyone, get to the main deck, we've exited slipspace," barked Cortana. "We've got company."