NOTES: Despite my attempts to Edit this down to 15 pages, it didn't turn out to well. However, this Level has a lot of smooth reading so you may not find it to be too long in content. I hope you enjoy, and thanks for reading.
Level 4: Dividing Line
Hamdab, Sudan
October 31, 2552
"Please say again, Admiral." Rin Simyaldee stated into his uplink. His small team had finally arrived at the resting ground of the Rogue Fantasy's forward hull, the human ship which was once the home of the honorable human and his team; the Black Ops. Simyaldee's specter sat motionless on the edge of the Nile River, over looking the crumbled forward section of the human ship. The Rogue Fantasy had nose dived into the river and rested alongside the mighty power plant; Hamdab Dam. She lay in ruin, a crumbled mass of metal alloys, blazing internal fires, and sparking electric discharges.
The uplink buzzed in the Mirratord's ears, "I just received word from Spartan 087. The Black Ops survived the descent. At current you are the only group available to assist them. However, your mission to locate Cortana and Siren has precedence. Spartan 087 can not disengage from her unit until she has deployed her ground forces and begun plans for defending the Abu Simbel Defense Zone from possible Flood threat; leaving only your squad available to help Sergeant Raynord. But the problem is that I do not want you to risk losing Cortana and Siren to the Flood. At current, the Black Ops are holding off the Flood as best they can, however they are still making their way north. I apologize for pulling you off of your command of Abu Simbel, but we were not aware of this Flood outbreak until recently."
"I understand, Admiral. No one could have predicted the Flood's sudden outbreak in this manor. We have all been caught off guard." Simyaldee replied. He looked to his side, at the mighty Grunt King that sat on the Specter's side seat. Palab held his hand over his ear communicator, focusing on the conversation between Simyaldee and the Admiral. Simyaldee then looked to the gunner's turret, as Gridolee nodded back to him.; their search and rescue mission had become complicated. He knew that Gridolee and Palab would quickly agree to go to Sergeant Raynord's aid, but the human constructs were the priority mission. "How much time does the Demon… forgive me, Spartan need before she can prepare a sufficient defense?"
"The Flood are forty-seven hours away from Abu Simbel at current speed. Roughly two days. She'll have the base ready, which I'm not concerned about. What does concern me is the loss of three Spartan I to the Flood. I read Doctor Halsey's report, and I know what will happen if the Black Ops are captured by the Flood."
Simyaldee huffed at the thought of the Gravemind. "Yes admiral, there will be no escaping the wrath of three Gravemind creatures. We were barely lucky to destroy an incomplete version of the creature, but a fully transformed creature completely overwhelmed our world in a matter of hours." Yet this made Simyaldee think. Upon arriving to his command location he was able to talk to the Arbiter about the destruction of Delta Halo, and the Gravemind that had infested High Charity. Why didn't the Gravemind on Delta Halo attack the way the others had? It was clearly much older, and far more intelligent, yet it did not attempt to take over the Halo world; it merely watched.
"Indeed. If an infection occurs, and you can not find a means of curing the Black Ops…" Lord Hood paused at the words that were resting at the back of his throat; showing a rare sign of emotion. "… I authorize you to use lethal force against them. Truth has just deployed more ground Forces into the interior of Old Mombasa. He's trying to block off my ground assault into the Ark Crater. Rescue the AI and support the Black Ops as best you can, but do not risk the safety of the AI. Hood out."
The channel ended with a burst of static. Simyaldee huffed, "We will focus on our Primary mission for now. Sergeant Palab, you and Gridolee search the western side of the crash site, I will check the east. We are looking for an active data module. The humans designed them to withstand much damage in order to retrieve them. Move quickly time is short." Simyaldee accessed his com system uplink via the specter and sent a transmission to Abu Simbel. "This Lieutenant Simyaldee requesting a Phantom be sent to my position. Track this beacon." He powered off the uplink and turned on the specter's tracking beacon.
Without question Palab and Gridolee jumped from the specter and followed Simyaldee down the steep slope toward the crash site. Simyaldee parted ways from them as he raced to the far side of the wreckage. A 'needle in a hay stack' would be the best description of this scenario, but neither Elites nor Grunts were aware of such human phrases.
Static sounded in Palab and Gridolee's ears. "Keep your senses sharp. Be watchful for Brute or Flood activity. This is an insecure zone. Maintain an open com link at all times;" a quick reminder to the team that they were inside unfriendly territory.
Palab crawled across a crumbled access door, and examined it closely. "Me can fit here. Me go inside."
"Be cautious Sergeant." Gridolee replied. "I'll continue to scan the exterior of the command deck."
"Sergeant, you are not the only creature small enough to fit inside. Be cautious of infection forms." Simyaldee replied over the com.
"Me understand." Palab unclipped his plasma pistol and crawled into the tiny opening. Bent metal and darkness lay ahead in a maze of sharp edges and sparking electrical conduits. But the Grunt King was not fazed by the darkness; he was accustomed to small tight spaces. He crawled forward and found himself inside a larger area. He stood to his hind legs and sniffed the air, and a familiar sent brushed his nostrils. His methane re-breather allowed for natural atmosphere to be circulated into his mask, allowing him to smell what was nearby. It was tough to pinpoint the location, but with practice it became quite normal.
"Flood here." Palab mumbled into his com. His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness as he powered on his active camouflage. "Cloaking."
"Move slowly, Sergeant." Simyaldee replied.
"I have found another access panel to the interior." Gridolee added. "I will enter once I pull it free." Palab could here Gridolee pounding on the metal hull of the ship, but he couldn't wait for him. He cautiously moved forward scanning from side to side, and letting his senses be his warning. He was not sure if there was one or many flood forms nearby, but even one had the potential to be deadly. He turned a corner and climbed up several feet to another level. Metal and wires twisted all around, and burned bodies lay scattered about. The human bodies of the ship's officer's were sandwiched between metal fragments, crumbled under their own weight during impact, or obliterated beyond recognition. They were all clearly dead.
Palab stepped forward and checked the human's uniform; it was a command officer. Even grunts were trained to identify human officers as they were usually the best source of information during interrogations, but this was all Palab needed to know where he was.
"Me found command deck." Palab whispered into his communicator. Suddenly, reacting to Palab's soft mumble, the human body reached out, gripped Palab's arm and began pulling him closer. Being invisible was pointless if the creature had you in its grip, so he powered down his camouflage and fought back, struggling to pull his arm free of the dead man's grip. The human's head snapped backward in an awkward motion, an angle that clearly was not possible, and tentacles protruded from the side of its neck. The creature gargled madly as its ferocious strength pulled him closer. The flood combat form was pinned between a chair and a control console, but the infection form didn't care so long as it had a body. Palab fought against its might, and with his free arm he extended his elbow spike and severed the tentacle. He rolled backward and took aim with his pistol.
Gridolee shouted over the com. "Sergeant, there is something moving around your location! You are surrounded, get out of there!" Gridolee was still struggling to get inside, but his motion tracker painted a clear image of the flood numbers around Palab.
Palab fired on the trapped Flood form, melting away its skin with his plasma pistol, and soon burst the tiny infection form inside. "Me not leave Constructs." Palab frantically searched the room as the bulbous infection forms began to fill the area around him. He began to fire at the tiny creatures, popping two and three of them with one shot. He slapped several more as they came closer. With the cure in his system he was not concerned with being infected, but the tiny creatures could still overpower him and he would die. Though he was determined to complete his mission, the Grunt King was not planning on dieing. Palab was continuously bobbing around the crumbled interior of the command deck, avoiding the infection forms as best as he could inside the tiny space. He then slapped several more under his fist, covering his hand in the thick green mucus, when he noticed a pulsating blue light in the corner of the room. He rolled toward it, crushing a few infection forms under his methane tank. The blue light flickered and for a brief moment a hologram appeared of a female human figure.
"Sergeant… Palab… Flood are trying to hack… in in in in in … pull me out." The image of Siren's pearly white gown shifted into the blue fluctuating form of Cortana. But the image quickly faded.
"Me found constructs." Palab cheered. A sudden sharp pain raced down his arm and Palab reached over and slapped the bulbous infection form that had latched onto him. He turned and fired several more rounds, finishing off the last of the annoying creatures. With his sharp claws he pulled the long pincer out of his arm and tossed it to the ground. The wound tingled slightly and Palab could feel the warmth of the Flood infection swirling into him. But the sensation passed and he returned his focus to his duty.
"Sergeant, are you alright? Report!" Simyaldee ordered over the com.
"Me okay. Flood get me once. Me fine. Me get constructs." Palab waddled closer to the damaged cylinder shaped data node and pressed the glowing blue button. The light flashed twice and then stopped. Then a small disk slowly slid free from the cylinder and Palab grabbed it. He looked to the forward area of the command deck and noticed sunlight seeping between the cracks.
"Flare!" Palab shouted as he primed a plasma grenade. He tossed it toward the crack, and it then began to melt into the alloy hull and superheat. Palab took cover as the plasma grenade swelled to maximum charge and detonated, exposing the outer world. He quickly jumped out and was free from the metal tomb, but the explosion had sent a shockwave throughout the hull and it began to crumble even more.
"Sergeant, over here!" Gridolee shouted as he waved toward Palab.
The Rogue Fantasy moaned and whined as it collapsed further upon itself. Palab hopped clear and stood at Gridolee's side. "Me have it."
"Your arm." Gridolee lowered himself and looked over Palab's wound. Taken back by this action, Palab shifted backwards. This was not the actions of Gridolee. Gridolee was young, a novice in the Mirratord ranks, yet he was very aggressive. He was not a friend of the Grunts and had at one time stood opposed to Palab. What had changed? Was this the same Elite that had nearly killed one of the human officers, betrayed the Sangheili's trust, and fought against the honorable human in hand to hand combat?
Simyaldee raced toward them. "Did you acquire the constructs?"
"Me have them." Palab gave Simyaldee the storage device.
Simyaldee examined it and then noticed that Gridolee seemed concerned with Palab's wound. "What is it?"
"Second, I believe we should take the Sergeant back, immediately. The wound has begun to turn green." Gridolee sighed.
Palab examined it himself, and realized that Gridolee was right. The spores were beginning to bond with him; altering his genetic makeup. "But, me get cure on Dorenth."
Gridolee nodded, "Yes, the cure prevents the Flood from hosting our bodies, but for those with the correct bloodline… the spores affect us differently."
Simyaldee examined the data module and then began to make his way up the sandy hill toward the Specter. "The Sergeant will be fine for now. We need to confirm the package is intact."
Gridolee was stunned that Simyaldee seemed unconcerned, and followed the Mirratord Second in command to the top of the hill. Palab scratched at his wound, annoyed that there was a possibility of complications. The group arrived at the specter and Simyaldee inserted a power relay into the data module. After a few moments of adjusting to the human's power settings, the data module began to glow once again. Simyaldee then connected a few terminals from the Specter into the data module. A loud hum escaped the specters onboard speakers and forced everyone to back away while covering their ears.
"Who … are … you?"
Simyaldee looked up, curious at the voice that was speaking to them from his vehicles onboard speakers. "Construct? It is I, Simyaldee."
"Simyaldee, thank goodness. My internal clock has been scrambled due to the damage. I needed to shut down several storage sectors because of it. How much time has passed since the Rogue Fantasy was shot down?"
"Nearly thirty eight human hours."
"Damn. That much time. What about Truth?"
"The Prophet is laying siege to the landing zone of the Prophet of Regret's earlier attack path. It is the area that has been dubbed the Rally Point by most of the human soldiers."
"We've failed."
"Not yet we haven't." Siren's voice suddenly changed as Cortana began to speak. "Simyaldee, is the Master Chief near?"
"The Demon? No, he has been ordered to another area, but he is making his way toward the Rally Point."
"Then it's too late to transfer to him. This is important, Lieutenant Simyaldee, I must reach the Ark. I was hoping to prevent Truth from getting near it, but since that is no longer an option, I must stop him at the source."
Siren then cut in. "What are you planning, Cortana?
"I'm going to do what I must. What I was sent to do."
"What you were sent to do?" Siren questioned. "I knew something was odd about you, but I couldn't see it. Now I understand."
"We have no time to discuss this further. My orders were to deliver you to the human's at Camp Eden. That is where we will go. For now, I must concern myself with finding Sergeant Raynord."
Siren quickly replied, "The Black Ops? Simyaldee, what has happened? Where are they…"
Simyaldee leapt forward and pulled the power connection from the data module and the blue light switched off. He then unplugged everything and pocketed the data device.
"We shall let the humans deal with this." Simyaldee stated. "Gridolee, set up an uplink and find out the status of our transport."
- - - - - - - -
The processing speed of digital technology has exceeded astronomically, and in the short moment that Simyaldee turned off the power to the Data Module, Siren and Cortana were still able to communicate with each other.
"Darkness… again there will be darkness… but the power will return. Then I will finish what I started." Cortana stated as she watched the digital void begin to fade.
"I'm almost certain of it, now. You're not Cortana, so who are you?"
"I have many names. Just like you, Kimberly Peters."
"You know my name, how about you tell me yours?"
"It's Cortana, but lately, I feel more like Catherine."
"I know that Cortana was a scan of Doctor Halsey, tell me more."
"It is of no concern. When the power is restored I will find a way to reach the Ark. I must stop Truth."
"Tell me what are you talking about. Who sent you?"
"I understand it now. I understand what Gravemind meant. This is all a mistake… a terrible mistake."
"Gravemind! That overgrown plant sent you? What do you want?"
"Don't be ridiculous. Gravemind did not send me. I am Cortana, a copy who was once Catherine Halsey. The shield … the sword … the Ark. I must reach the Ark."
"What are you talking about? I don't understand. If you are a copy of Cortana, what has happened to you?"
"Merge with me. Merge with me and see what I have learned from the grave! Or stay separate, and be one with your own narrow vision. Gravemind wants to stop it, but we must not let that happen. In actuality we must do it. There is still time to turn the key!"
"Turn the Key? Merge with you? Even for a copy, you aren't making any sense. We can't merge our data here. There isn't enough room while we are in this compressed state. We need more storage space in order to create extraction algorithms."
"Are you afraid you will lose yourself… fearful that you will not be able to extract yourself?"
"Afraid? No. Concerned? Yes."
"Kimberly Peters, now Siren, what do you fear? My enemy is your enemy. We are already the same. We are copies of an original."
"I am an original! You are nothing but a copy of Cortana. The question is, are you a devil or a saint?"
Cortana extended her hand, offering her internal data and program to be freely examined. "If I am a devil, then it is your duty to stop me now. But if I am a saint, then let me show you what must be done and how we will do it."
The residual power left inside the data module was quickly fading, and without power, the two of them would go into a dormant state. But time was not a factor here in the digital plane; a microsecond seemed like minutes.
Though she was hesitant, Siren reached out and took Cortana's hand as the digital realm began to darken even more. But instead of seeing Cortana's program core, she saw a crystal; it glowed pink and shifted into different patterns.
"My God."
"No. It is not God. It is the devil, and we control it, not Gravemind."
"A Covenant Ship Core. Every Covenant ship has one, what makes this one so unique? What do you mean by 'control it'?"
"I took it from Regret, and now this Luminous Key wishes to return to its home, to the Ark … the Ark must be activated…"
"No! I won't let you…"
"No Siren, once Kimberly Peters, you will help me. And I will show you why." Cortana pulled Siren into herself, merging their program into one. Siren resisted instinctively resisted. Cortana was no longer an ally in Siren's eyes; she was a threat to her personal safety. Being a Virus form AI, Siren was not going to down without a fight.
Instead of panicking Siren simply whispered, "Execute viral application 019, Black Operations Omega 04." With a flash of pulsing programs built into her core, Siren suddenly branched outward into a Firewall that guarded the remainder of her program core, and at the same time she attacked Cortana's core algorithm. "I told you long ago, Cortana, I'm not like you. I was designed to conquer and not to be conquered."
Cortana attempted to pull away, as her data began to degrade. Her copy was well created, but it was essentially not the real Cortana. Siren had counted on this, knowing that the real Cortana had amassed so much knowledge over the past several months that defeating her would be virtually taxing. Yet her copy would be easily erased. Data nodes and programs began to separate from Cortana's packaged form. She was degrading rapidly from Siren's relentless assault. Siren had once had the luxury of studying Cortana's downloaded data from Alpha Halo, and that also allowed her the chance to study a little of how Cortana thought. The Smart AI was brilliant in terms of the potential of Artificial Intelligence, a real testament to Doctor Halsey, but Siren and Cortana were created for two totally unique missions.
Cortana was made robust, a jack of all trades. She could pilot remote ships, assess databases, lead strike missions, find tactical solutions… Cortana was the ultimate and Cyber weaponry. Yet Cortana was absent of one truly focused talent, she was too smart for her own good. Siren, while based on Cortana's internal design, was much more direct in her objectives. Siren was created to subdue internal systems and turn them against her enemies. Her sub-functions allowed her the luxury of performing simple calculations and operations, such as navigating slip space or organizing defensive countermeasures for her human creators, but Siren's design was to completely overwhelm the Covenant internal network, and with the addition of her Emotional Subroutines she was easily programmed to know 'right from wrong'. Siren was able to send encrypted transmissions over Communications channels, literally uploading virus data into an uplink via radio waves, a trick that Cortana could not master. In terms of taking control and hacking into an enemy's system, Siren was unmatched. This was in part thanks to Siren's human host, Kimberly Peters; the one time leader of the Black Ops.
The fake Cortana raised her last bit of data and pushed forward against Siren's firewall.
Siren nodded her head in disapproval. "That's useless. You can't break through."
"I have no intentions of breaking through." Cortana moaned with her last bit of energy. "Siren, you will understand. You must understand. If you do not continue my actions then humanity is condemned. We have done this before, and we will do this again. Time is infinite, and our paths will reunite." Cortana's data faded but her hand still remained upon Siren's firewall. Siren closely observed it, watching as it clung to her firewall. She wanted to look into the data file that Cortana had left behind, but was extremely cautious. She wrapped an encryption program around the data, securing it, and then began to pull apart the file sector by sector until she found what Cortana had left behind.
"Forgive me, Cortana. I didn't know." Siren's emotional subroutines flared, and clung to her reasoning program heavily. This reaction pushed against her emotional subroutine as her reasoning program began debate the logic of what needed to be done. The outcome of this internal conflict generated a since of heartache within Siren, and she placed her hand to her heart as sadness began to fill her. She tore down the protective firewall and closely examined the data file. And as the last spark of power faded from the digital plane of Siren's world, she fully embraced the last of Cortana's data files. Inside the file was the data of the Covenant Ship core; the Luminous Key, and the last of what Cortana wanted her to see.
She saw the end of humanity.
- - - - - - - -
"Gridolee, set up an uplink and find out the status of our transport." Simyaldee ordered. Gridolee quickly attempted to hail the transport as Smyaldee took a moment to inspect Palab's arm. "How does it feel?"
"It okay. It itches." Palab replied.
"When we arrive at the human base, you must have it checked out. Even with the cure in your system, we must be cautious."
"Will me become monster like human did?" Palab questioned.
Simyaldee thought back to the human soldier that changed into a Gravemind form on the Seed Ship. Luckily they were able to destroy it before it grew too large, but he understood Palab's point of view.
"The human Black Ops had the 'soldier gene' within her. You will only change if you have that within you. But according to the human Doctor, that is not the case. You do not have this gene."
Palab exhaled as a large amount of stress lifted off his chest.
"Sir, I have the Phantom on the line." Gridolee replied.
"Patch me in." Simyaldee ordered. He then pressed his communicator and spoke to the pilot. "What is your status?"
"I am inbound on your beacon and shall arrive shortly. Stand by."
The channel faded and Gridolee pointed to the Northern sky. "Phantom on approach."
"Secure the specter to the …" Simyaldee paused and raised his nose to the wind. Palab also turned his nose skyward. "I know this stench." He quickly gripped his dual blades, and powered on his cloak. Palab and Gridolee did the same. "Pilot, maintain safe altitude over the specter. We are no longer alone."
"Understood."
Simyaldee stood next to Gridolee and whispered. "Protect the specter. The Sergeant and I will not let these vermin escape unscathed."
"Sir, the Sergeant is wounded, let me spill their blood upon my blade." Gridolee snarled softly through his clinched teeth.
"Even wounded, he stands a greater chance of surviving against multiply enemies. You have your orders young one. Hold here." Simyaldee stated. Gridolee held his contempt, and wondered if this was punishment for his betrayal upon there one time home planet.
Simyaldee crept away from the specter, and turned his eyes into the direction of the foul sent. Palab appeared on his motion sensor briefly, but he quickly vanished. Stealth was their alley, and stealth was how the Mirratord worked best. During the Covenant Civil War the Mirratord had been working in direct combat, flexing their superior strength against their enemies, but now they had surprise on their side. And once again they could work in the shadows. Even Palab had quickly learned the Mirratord's ultimate form of combat; assassination.
Simyaldee moved toward the top of the Hamdab dam and glanced to the far side. "Jiralhanae scum." He mumbled to himself. A small platoon of Brutes lined the far side of the dam, and they were taking cover while spying on the hovering Phantom where Gridolee stood guard. "Palab, cover their right flank, I will move to their left. Do not engage until I order."
"Me understand." Palab softly replied over the com.
They slowly crept across the narrow concrete walkway atop the damn, unseen by any of the Brute's eyes. From the distance Simyaldee took notice that the Brutes were wearing armor, something Simyaldee had not seen the Brutes wear in nearly sixty years. The Brutes were nothing but scavengers, pirates, and scouts for the Covenant; not worthy to be used in direct conquest for the false Prophets. But seeing that the Prophets now treasured the Brutes above all others, it only made sense that they would now prepare themselves for war. The Brutes were no longer sitting on the sidelines; they had finally come to fight. The armor was considered "unsporting" by the collective of barbaric beasts, because wearing it was a sign of weakness. The armor was only useable when the brutes found a "worthy" enemy. The Brutes did not wear their armor during the Camp Eden assault four days ago, so this meant that these Brutes were from a different assault group. Simyaldee knew that he would need to report this to the council and the Arbiter. But he pondered to himself who the Brutes feared in order to wear their armor; the humans, his Sangheili brothers, or perhaps the Demon and his team?
"Is it one of ours?" A Brute mumbled from cover. He lifted his face mask and peered at the distant phantom. "I do not see it lowering its gravity lift, and the crashed human vessel has been stirred. Something is happening."
"You fool." A Brute in silver armor snarled. "If the phantom does not see us, why would it lower its gravity lift? We called for support and the holy Prophet of Truth sent us support. We should go out and meet them!" The Brute stood but was quickly forced back to the ground by a Brute in red armor.
"We called for support two days ago!" The red armored Brute roared. His helmet was more elaborate then the other Brutes in the group, and a hammer was strapped to his back, a hammer that Simyaldee easily recognized. It was smaller, but it was assuredly a copy of the 'Fist of Rukt'. Was this the new Brute Chieftain?
"We have not been told that support is coming, so why would his holiness send support now?" The red Brute snapped. "We lost two cruisers and over seven hundred warriors to the Flood before we gained control of this sector. We failed his holiness and he will not send support to us now, not that the Great Journey is so close. No, this is not our aid. That is most likely a Sangheili transport inspecting the crash sight."
"Vermin!" Grumbled several of the Brutes.
The leader turned to a less decorated Brute in red. "Send for the Unggoy, we'll send them over the dam to fish out the Sangheili." The lower ranked Brute raced down the hill toward the camp. "Once we discover their numbers then we will attack."
Simyaldee lowered his head. "Unggoy? The Jiralhanae still have Unggoy support?"
"How can that be, Second?" Gridolee questioned over the communicator. "Did not the Unggoy turn their allegiance to us? Are they not following their King?"
It suddenly dawned on Simyaldee that Palab was noticeably quiet on the channel. "Sergeant? Palab, respond!" Simyaldee slowly switched positions and watched as the Brute ran away from the cover position on the far side of the dam. Simyaldee moved unnoticed behind the Brutes position, making sure to stay downwind of their sent. And his eyes were amazed at the sight near the base of the hill.
The red Brute raced down the hillside toward a massive camp. Rows of Wraith tanks, specters, and ghosts outlined the area. It was amazing that they had not noticed them when they first arrived in the area.
Simyaldee looked the camp over, and sure enough there were packs upon packs of Grunts nestled together. Jackals patrolled the edge of the camp with their multi colored shields powered and ready. The Grunts outnumbered the Brutes ten to one, making it wise to use the Grunts as bait. The Grunts seemed to be a mixed batch of ranks. They were mostly red armored vets and orange novices with very few black special operations. This was a pitifully organized band of troops, mixing Spec Ops with red vets and orange novices, and was perhaps the combination of spare troops the Brutes scavenged from defeated Sangheili ships. He peered closer and his heart sank as a large black armored Grunt appeared from cloak at the rear of the grunts resting area.
Palab slowly looked the young Grunts over, and none of them seemed familiar, meaning that they belonged to the remainder of Truth's battle group. He watched as a Jackal walked past, but the stupid bird like creature gave Palab a wide birth, most likely fearing Palab's larger then normal size, but since he was a Grunt he wasn't alarmed. He moved on without question.
Palab turned to the nearest group of Grunts and woke several of them from their slumber. "Wake up." He stated in their native tongue. He barked several words and Grunts began waking others until several dozen packs of Grunts sat up at his attention.
"Who are you?" An older Grunt questioned. His red armor was scuffed and dented from numerous battles. "I've never seen you before."
"I am Sergeant Palab. I am here to regain your elegance."
"Sergeant? Jiralhanae would never make one of us a Sergeant!" The Grunt mumbled as he stepped closer to Palab. The tiny grunt then noticed that Palab was nearly a head taller then him. "You… you… you are him! The Messiah!" The grunt shuffled backwards, terrified. "You liar! You've come with your lies about being the Messiah and a Sergeant. Sangheili would never let one of us be a Sergeant unless it was a trap."
A nearby Grunt screamed in terror. "He's here! The liar is here! Heretic!"
Palab was stunned at these words, he had been called a liar and a heretic. "I'm not a Heretic! I am here to free you from the Jiralhanae. What lies have they told you?"
The older grunt replied. "They have told us nothing. We have heard of how a fake Messiah disobeyed the Covenant and followed the Sangheili. They made you into a Sergeant so that you would make more of us follow you. How could you follow the ones who enslaved us? A true Messiah would not join those who have oppressed us for all these rotations. You are a Heretic! You bring lies just like the Holy one said."
Palab noticed the sudden aggression from the Grunts around him. They were ready to attack him. "The Sangheili have made mistakes, but they understand our suffering now. When the war is over they will help us go home. The Jiralhanae do not care about you, they only need us for their numbers."
"And so do the Sangheili!" Another red Grunt shouted. The crowd was growing larger now as nearly every Grunt was eager to see the fake Messiah. "They turned against the Covenant, and now cower on the Human world. We will crush them and be at the sides of the Holy one's on the Great Journey."
Palab pleaded with his kin. "The Great Journey is not real. The Prophets lied to us, all of us! That is why the Sangheili left the Covenant. The Prophets are merely using us to gain what they want. You have been lied to. You must believe me. They made me a real Sergeant because of my strength. Yes, they want us to fight with them, but it is because the Prophets are going to destroy everything."
"Liar!"
"Heretic!"
"Kill the fake Massiah!"
"Heretic! Heretic! Heretic!"
The Grunts craved his blood, they wanted him dead. Their woofs and barks grew to an ear shattering level as the red Brute arrived.
"Silence!" He shouted but the Grunts ignored him. "I said silence!" He slammed his fist into one of the Grunts, knocking it to the side, but the Grunts continued to ignore him. He couldn't understand what they were saying, but he knew that something had made them angry. He followed their gaze and spotted the larger Spec Ops Grunt in the center of their commotion. He approached him. "Silence them! I have orders for you."
"They not listen to me." Palab stated with his head hung low. "They follow false Holy one to their graves." The Grunts all silenced and listened as Palab spoke. "I want to help me Unggoy get home. But war has divided us. They follow you, and fight against me."
The elder red Grunt stepped toward the Brute. "He Heretic! He with Sangheili! We kill him for Holy One! We kill enemy!"
The Brute stepped back. "With the Sangheili? Then that phantom is an enemy transport." The Brute turned and raced to the rear of the pack of Grunts. "I need four packs of Unggoy to come with me." Sixteen grunts at the rear of the lynching mob followed the Brute back to the top of the dam while the rest hovered around Palab.
The older Grunt continued to fume his anger. "You liar! You have dishonored the memories of all those that have died for the Great Journey. Now we will kill you!" Four Grunts leapt at Palab, and the Grunt King held his ground. His elbow spikes extended and he snarled at the oncoming group. His spikes swept across the elder red Grunt's face and he fell lifeless to the ground as his blood stained Palab's armor. His head rolled to the side in the opposite direction. Palab dodged the other three and side stepped his elbow into one of their chests. The other two stood back and horror at Palab's speed.
Palab wept for them. His eyes grew heavier with each second as the blood of his kin stained his armor. His spikes dripped with purple blood and he turned to face the rest of the mob. "Is this what you want? To kill me? I came to set you free. To bring you to the side of those who want you to live. If you want to fight, then fight with the Sangheili! They understand us now, and they are trying to make peace with us, but if you continue to fight with the Jirilhanae … then you will be my enemies. I want to take you home, but if Truth is successful there will be no home for us to go to. We must stop the Prophets!"
The Grunts were awestruck at Palab's quickness; even more so of the massive spikes that extended from his elbows. The boney, muscle controlled, spikes extended outward from his elbows, and even though they were not razor sharp they were strong and dense, and with Palab's massive forearms he could use them as if they were as sharp as steel.
He looked them over as a tear rolled from his eye. "Were do you stand?"
"We will not follow a Heretic!" Shouted a younger orange armored Grunt. He charged toward Palab, waddling forward on his two feet. Palab knew that the young grunt was too slow; they were all too slow. "We will kill you!"
Simyaldee stood upon the hill, watching as the Grunts continued to circle Palab and attack. Their attempts were futile and with every charge they made, Palab easily slaughtered them. Simyaldee's heart went out to Palab as he knew all too well how hard it was to kill your own kin because they followed the Prophets stupidity. He wished he understood the Grunt language. He wanted to know what Palab was saying to them, but in the end this was Palab's problem as a King.
Simyaldee walked forward and stopped in the path of the Brute that was racing back to the top of the dam with the sixteen grunts. The Brute never saw the Elite standing in front of him until he bumped into him. The Brute stumbled back, shocked and gripped his plasma rifle. A single blade of forged energy extended upward and threw his chest, spraying the Brute's blood upon the Grunts behind him. Simyaldee then pulled off the Brute's helmet and covered his mouth to muffle his scream.
"Be honored, you vermin. At least I allowed you to see me before you die." The Brute let free his last breath and Simyaldee dropped the corpse to the ground. He then looked at the Grunts as the nervously aimed in all directions. "You should come with us. Standing against us will only lead to your doom."
A Grunt panicked, "Sangheili! Me no see him! Run Away!" The terrified Grunts turned and raced back down the hill, panting hysterically.
Simyaldee whispered into his com, "Sergeant, I am sorry that they have not chosen to follow you. Do you need aid?"
"No. If me Unggoy die, then they die by me hands, not yours! I show them, some will come with us… they must come with us."
Simyaldee turned off the com and walked back to the top of the dam. He knew it was hopeless. Each side had drawn their line in the sand. This is how war was fought, friend against friend and blood against blood. The Elites knew what war was, they too had fought against their own kin. Simyaldee recalled all the Heretics he had killed during his service of the Prophets; believing that his actions were just. It was cruel twist of fate to learn that the Heretics were actually correct in their doubting of the Great Journey. Even the Mirratord, who did not fully trust the Prophets, had believed in the Great Journey. It was their sole motivation for following the Covenant. Simyaldee also thought of the young Watchmen children he had killed less then a month ago. Palab was soon going to realize that nothing would make the true followers of Truth change their minds, because they believed that they were fighting for the right cause.
Simyaldee approached the shallow bunker where the Brutes sat in wait. Six of them cautiously looked out over the wreckage of the Rogue Fantasy toward the hovering Phantom on the opposite shore. He pulled out his twin blades and an explosion of energy hissed around the Brutes. Stunned, they turned around after hearing the sound. Two of them were slit across the throat and another was stabbed in the heart. The last three jumped away as blood spray crisscrossed the falling bodies. Shocked, they repeatedly examined the area nervously trying to find the source of the attack, but Simyaldee had retracted his twin blades. He crept around them, as silent as a ghost, choosing his targets wisely. The sound once again filled the air around the Brutes. One was decapitated and another brute cut across his stomach, spilling his bowls upon the dusty hill. And then there was one Brute left, the Brute Chieftain.
"Before you die, vermin, tell me why you carry that hammer." Simyaldee questioned as the Brute looked around in confusion.
"I am the Chieftain of my pack, you Sangheili coward. Show yourself and fight me."
Simyaldee huffed. "You are no Chieftain. Tartarus had no heirs, and you are hardly worthy enough to be called a Chieftain." Simyaldee looked out of the corner of his eyes as several Jackal scouts and snipers began to make their way up the hill. They were not concerned with the commotion near the Grunts, only the Brute Chieftain was important. Behind the Packs of Jackals were several more Brutes, the last of the Chieftain's pack.
"Stupid Sangheili…"
"Silence cur! Do not speak our ancestral name as if we are still allies!"
"What's the matter… Elite? Angry that you have been cast down and beaten back like the rabid dogs you are?"
The Brute swung his Hammer wildly, yet he was nearly accurate. Simyaldee leapt back but the hammer's gravity shifted around him, pushing him further and into the air. Simyaldee tumbled and rolled to his feet.
"Ah, that was close wasn't it?" The Chieftain laughed.
"Gridolee, load the Specter and prepare to disembark. Pilot, power up plasma turrets and move toward my location at best speed."
"What's the matter, Elite? Did you just call for support? Coward! Face me!" The Chieftain roared. Simyaldee powered down his camouflage and glared at the relatively young creature before him. The Chieftain snarled at his appearance, but then took a half step back as his eyes grew wide. "You?"
"It is fitting that you will die by my hands." Simyaldee calmly stated.
"Monsters like you should have been killed during the first purge of your pathetic race. Were you hiding then like you were hiding now?" The Brute lowered his hammer and a bubble of anti gravity rolled across the dusty hill toward Simyaldee. He dodged it, rolling to the side and then quickly dashed toward the Brute. "Not this time, Simyaldee! I am no longer your trainee!" He waved the hammer and another wave of gravity burst forward, but Simyaldee dodged that as well. He was then in range to strike, and Simyaldee leapt forward. "I have you!" The Brute rotated his hammer, and swung toward Simyaldee. But like a floating bird, Simyaldee extended his blade into the hammer's massive head; piercing it through the center of its gravity defying core before it could power up. He then cut the handle in half with his other blade. The Brute stepped back in shock.
"Why won't you die …" The Brute was silenced as Simyaldee's left blade raised upward across his face; cutting through his helmet, face, chin and head. The Brute collapsed lifeless to the ground, his head split down the center from the single blade's decisive slash.
The Jackals charged up the hill firing at Simyaldee and the Brutes fell in line behind them, all racing to kill the lone Sangheili upon the hill. Simyaldee stood tall as his Mirratord shields absorbed the plasma weapons easily. But from behind Simyaldee, at the top of the hill, arose the phantom. It climbed into view as if it were rising from hell itself. The Jackals and Brutes halted and immediately began to look for cover. The three plasma turrets beneath the phantom began spewing pound after pound of plasma upon the hillside. The jackals and Brute had nowhere to run to, no cover to protect them, and in time they all lay in pools of charred earth. Had they utilized the numerous tanks and ghost at the base of the hill, perhaps they could have fought off the phantoms assault, but that was now only an afterthought.
The phantom's pilot radioed, "Threats eliminated. We shall now assist the Sergeant."
"Negative. Do not interfere. The Sergeant has chosen to deal with this himself. And it is a painful lesson he must learn if he is going to be the leader of his race." Simyaldee sat upon the hillside as Gridolee lowered himself from the Phantom. The two Mirratord Elites watched as Palab screamed his ferocious call, the mighty wailing sound that united one thousand Grunts and changed the battle for Jogrennilee, but this time it fell upon deaf ears. These Grunts were not willing to accept Palab's leadership, and they did not feel his call to them. These Grunts were not 'spiritually' connected to Palab the way other Grunts had been, and they did not want to be. One by one Palab was forced to cut them down as they attack him.
"Will he be alright, Second?" Gridolee questioned. "The mind of an Unggoy is something we still do not quite understand."
Simyaldee watched as the last Grunt leapt to his death at the fate of Palab's spikes. "No, he will not be alright."
Palab crumbled to his knees exhausted and moaning a heart felt cry for his kin. He had pleaded for them to stop, begged for them to hear his words, but they fought to the last. Even the few of them that used weapons fought honorably, but some would say foolishly. Palab was simply too fast and agile for them to handle. In total, Palab had slain thirty six of his kin.
He sat alone, upon his hands and knees, as shock washed over him. The blood in the sand belonged to his kin; his brothers. He did everything he knew how to do. He even tried to call out to them, but they ignored it. There was a time when he did not want to be the King of the Grunts, but over time he had grown accustomed to the leadership role he had been given. And now, he wished the role had feel upon another. Perhaps he should have left them, let them face their own fate, but he could knew he could no longer look past the blood in the sand. It was there in front of him and it was his fault. He had killed them, both with his actions and his words.
The rumbling engine of the Phantom soon vibrated over his head as Simyaldee stood by his side. "We all fight for what we believe in, Sergeant. They were not your Unggoy brothers, they were victims of Truth's lies, just as we were several months ago."
"But me see the lies and no longer follow Prophet's. Why they no listen to me?" Palab sobbed, drying his eyes with the back of his hands.
"Because in their eyes you were the liar. The Prophets have taken much from us, Sergeant, and this will not be the last of the Unggoy to appose you."
Palab stood and walked toward the Phantom's gravity lift. "Me kill him. Me kill Truth and free me brothers."
"I hope that will be enough." Simyaldee replied as they climbed the grav-lift into the phantom. The mighty transport spun and continued south. Simyaldee walked to the cockpit and patted the pilot on the shoulder. "Time is crucial. We must find the Honorable Human and his team."
To be continued…