Legal disclaimer:
I do not own Sierra, Valve, Half-life, Bungie, Gearbox, Microsoft and/or Halo and other related companies whatsoever.
Hidden Mantis: That last bit in the last chapter was temporary. I probably wouldn't do anything like that anytime soon, unless people want more and post it in the reviews.
And so, a new chapter begins.
Date: May 17, 2003
The Master Chief had been with Dyson Poincare for quite a while, now. The scientist was probably the longest-lived of all the humans he encountered in Black Mesa so far. Maybe it was because of his small amount of military training. Maybe it was because he had the guts to stick with John-117. Or maybe it was because he was lucky.
"We're still far from getting out of this hellhole," Dyson said, walking through the halls of Black Mesa's office complex. "Knowing Black Mesa protocol, I'd say the elevators are down. I'm pretty sure not one of my colleagues has the guts to climb 10 stories high in an elevator shaft. But I would."
"Brains and guts," John replied. "If you were taller, you'd probably be a great Spartan."
"Spartans, always the Spartans. Why can't everybody be Spartans?"
"Classified info, friend," John said. "You know I can't blab."
"Why? Worried you might make a time paradox if you told me?" Dyson asked playfully.
"Not really. But just to be safe, I won't tell you," John replied.
"Alright, if you say so."
The duo eventually reached a locked double doorway, the door windows showing a hallway, another door to the left and at the end of the hallway, some elevator doors.
"It looks like this is our way out," said Dyson.
"I'll bust the doors open," said the Master Chief.
"Don't!" Dyson reacted. "Sometimes, it's best if we don't use brute force.
"Like say –," he continued, looking above the doorway, "A ventilation shaft. We'll crawl through that, and we won't need to bust open any doors, okay?"
"I guess that would work," John said.
Poincare went around finding a few wooden boxes and a couch to act as leverage to reach the vent. The Master Chief didn't need them; he could just jump up and reach for the vent.
"You go first, I guess," said Dyson. "You have the shields."
John didn't have any qualms about taking point. In the darkness of the vent, he turned on his helmet lights, having no trouble seeing what's ahead. He was ready for any small threat to come their way. Headcrabs were sometimes known to stay in dark ventilation shafts.
"Do you see anything ahead?" Poincare asked.
"There's a faint glow ahead," John said. "I think it's the elevator shaft you were talking about."
Suddenly, the vents under the Chief crashed under his weight. Bits of aluminum vent, slivers of wood and one disoriented Spartan fell down on the hallway. Somewhere in front of the debris, the green electricity from before suddenly jumped out of nowhere, singeing some carpets and burning the elevator doors ahead. One Alien Slave appeared from the surge.
"Not these guys again," muttered John, bracing for one arc of lightning the alien aimed at him. But the electricity never reached him; a gunshot was heard in the shafts above him.
Dyson saved John with one shot in the Slave's eye, but the alien toppling resulted in the misfire right into the ventilation shaft where Poincare was in. The volts dissipated as it ran along the metal, but some of it still met the scientist. A light tingling sensation ran through his legs.
The combined stress of the age, heat and movement in the vent resulted in it collapsing once again, leaving Dyson covered in splinters and steel on the hall floor.
"Ow," he said, rubbing his glutes and legs. "That hurt."
"So we didn't need to pry those doors open, huh?" John asked as he stood, the sarcasm gnarling his voice even more.
"Fine," Poincare replied, still rubbing his ass. "You won."
Date: September 29, 2552
"Well played, Dr. Freeman," Cortana said over the radio. "You saved most of the crew from death and injury."
Gordon couldn't help but get a bit sad over the lives that were lost during the moments he and the other Marines were defending the alien outpost. One Marine exploded during the fight; an Elite with a gun shooting crystalline bullets impaled him with explosive ammo, the resulting blast disintegrated his whole body. A crewmember's face was melted by an Elite's plasma rifle. Another Marine was killed by a new alien Gordon had never seen before: Jackals, Cortana called them.
They carried plasma shields on their right arm and carried their weapons, plasma pistols, on their left. Their long snouts, closely resembling beaks, had a lot of small sharp teeth protruding from them, almost resembling thin crocodile mouths. They looked more like birds than beasts.
All of that was a while ago. Gordon was now spraying the last few bullets in his MA5B on the shields of one Jackal. Bouncing around with the gun's recoil, its shields died shortly afterwards, letting a few slugs enter its weak frame.
The rest of the Marines were cleaning up in their area. As soon as the last of the Covenant were K.I.A., the crewmembers entrenched in the alien structure breathed a sigh of relief.
"That's the last of them," Cortana declared. "I guess our job here is done. We'll just have to wait for –."
"This is Pelican Echo 419," said a woman's voice over the comm. "Anybody readin' me? Repeat, any UNSC personnel respond."
"Roger, Echo 419," Cortana replied over the radio. "This is Fire Team Charlie. We read you five by five. Is that you Foehammer?"
"Roger Fire Team Charlie," replied Foehammer. "Good to hear from ya'."
"Foehammer, we need transportation to the command shuttle."
Gordon pondered over Cortana's last statement. If the UNSC already had a command station on the ring, they had to be really organized. As expected of a military group.
Suddenly, a loud rushing sound was heard above them. Gordon half-expected it to be the "Pelican" he had only just heard of, but it was another lifeboat. And another. And still another; they were falling in handfuls. There were five all in all, which meant more Marines and UNSC personnel needing saving.
"If those lifeboats make it down, the Covenant are going to be right on top of them," Cortana said over Gordon's radio. He knew this meant risking his skin again, but if it was for the best, he'd do it.
Soon, Freeman eventually glimpsed the Pelican for the first time. It was large and bulky. It had short wings that boasted thrusters, letting Gordon know that it was a VTOL aircraft. It looked like it was almost impossible for it to fly, but then Gordon remembered about the Lifting Body propulsion design, which also meant that it could fly really fast. It made more sense that way. Underneath the Pelican, a jeep with a minigun and shielding on its back were strapped on.
"Some change of plans, Foehammer, we need you to disengage your Warthog," Cortana said to E419. "The Doctor and I will see if we can save some soldiers."
"Roger, Cortana," Foehammer replied.
The Pelican hovered ten feet off the ground just before releasing the jeep. The Warthog fell, bounced two feet in the air and landed safely. Gordon contemplated on the suspension, as it handled the fall really well.
"Okay Charlie Team, Warthog deployed. Saddle up and give them hell."
"Roger, Foehammer. Standby to evac survivors and transport them to safety."
"That's affirmative. Echo 419 staying on station. Foehammer out."
"We need some backup, men," Cortana told SSgt. Fritzgrald. "Can you spare us a few men?"
"You heard the lady," the staff sergeant said. "Noval! Fujimori! You guys join their escapade."
"Yes sir!" said both privates in unison.
The Chief and Dyson walked towards the closed elevator shaft. This time, John actually pried the doors open and Dyson didn't retaliate.
Right in front of them, the shaft was devoid of any life except for –.
"Help!" shouted a scientist somewhere in the shaft above them. "I can't hold on much longer!"
"I'll be right there!" Dyson yelled, wishing to save the unseen soul. "Just hold on!"
The poor guy doesn't have much of a choice, though, John thought.
Right in front of them was a ladder on the other side of the shaft. It was just reachable if a human jumped to the other side, but then the danger of falling thirty stories below was a threat.
Unafraid, Dyson said, "I'll go first."
John knew it was probably best. If he'd go first, the ladder would probably collapse under the combined weight of the two.
Dyson's palms were sweaty. He had to save that scientist up there who was literally hanging on to dear life, and he had to manage the jump to the other side carefully as well.
The Master Chief gave some space for Poincare to run through the hallway. Not wasting time, Dyson sprinted towards the unknown, grasping for the ladder in the darkness.
"You know how to drive, doc?" Cortana asked Gordon.
Gordon just kept quiet, got in and stared at the Warthog's steering wheel, dashboard and transmission. It wasn't the same design as the 'old' cars he was used to, but at least the design for this manual transmission off-road vehicle wasn't far from it.
The Warthog jolted to a start, almost launching the three men in the air.
"Woah there, Nelly!" Noval, the one on the turret, shouted, a bit excited. Fujimori just kept quiet, his face almost expressionless.
"Wow, doc," Cortana said, a little nervousness hinted in her voice. "Should you let one of the Marines drive instead?"
Keeping his silence and his cool, Gordon started the engine up again, revving it up and moving the Warthog without any rough bumps.
"Uhh…" Cortana started. "I guess that's a no." Gordon almost thought he could feel her smiling inside her radio. Maybe it was the way she spoke.
Gordon sped up and over a hill, giving the Warthog some airtime. The Halo's decreased gravity gave it a lot of height that it would normally have if it were on Earth. Private Noval shouted a happy "Woohoo!", while Fujimori still kept quiet, but a faint smile was etched into his face.
A couple of hills later and with Noval quieting down, the jeep reached a depression that lead to a large and odd cave mouth. It was obviously built by someone, as the cave was too straight to be a natural formation.
Fumbling with the headlights, Gordon drove right into the cave, as it seemed like this was the only path towards the rest of the survivors.
While Gordon was swerving through some curves, his breast radio suddenly picked up some static.
"I've hacked into the Covenant battle network," Cortana said. "They're actually broadcasting tactical data on unencrypted channels… We should show them who they're dealing with."
As expected from an advanced AI, Gordon never stopped getting impressed. Getting enemy communications even while underground, it was quite a feat.
Further through the tunnel, Gordon saw a gap just after a ramp. He casually made the Warthog jump over it (Noval yelled with joy). Whoever designed this tunnel sure had no thoughts of safety, he thought. Maybe it was because some advanced alien civilization used to be there, and their vehicles floated? Who knew? Gordon stopped wondering and kept his eyes squinted through the blinding darkness.
Dyson leapt for the ladder. Grabbing the lowest limb with one hand, he slipped with the other. Hanging on for dear life, he didn't dare look down, but seeing the scientist above him, on another ladder opposite of the first one, hanging on as well, he almost wished he did.
Gathering all his strength, he pulled himself up, his legs flailing around like a frog's.
"Oh God! I'm losing my grip!" the scientist yelled. Tears were welling up in his eyes.
"I'll be there in a jiff. Just wait a few more seconds!"
Dyson sped up his ascent, reaching the upper floor and a narrow metal strip that acted as a foothold.
Gaining some balance and acting quickly, Dyson leaned his heels against the wall just as the scientist's grip finally gave way.
"Aaaaaaaagh!" he yelled in fear.
Poincare jumped right for the scientist in mid-air, the former's right hand meeting the latter's. The collision caused them to whirl out of control, Dyson almost losing grip of the second ladder.
The scientist, already worn out, slipped from Poincare's grip and continued his cry for help. As he fell, he spun uncontrollably and hit his head on a metal beam somewhere in the lower floors. His screams suddenly stopped, and a loud 'THUNK' was later heard from below.
Dyson breathed heavily; sweat was dripping all over his body. He felt bad for himself that he couldn't help just one soul.
John saw everything from the elevator doors. He started pondering over whether he was blessed to have the certain genetic makeup to become a Spartan, giving him the ability to save more lives than regular people, or cursed since he, too, couldn't save his Spartan brothers back at Reach.
The Master Chief leapt toward the ladder, as graceful as a swan and as bulky as a tank. Parts of the ladder promptly bent under his weight.
Suddenly, the steel that the Chief was holding gave way. Dyson gasped, but was relieved after knowing that John dug his fingers into the metal wall.
John and Dyson eventually made it all the way to the highest floor, near the railways, as Dyson recalled. They were so close to the surface.
Resting a bit, Dyson suddenly said "It couldn't be helped."
The Chief turned to him and said, "It's things like these that make you stronger. Because you were unable to do something in the past, it only makes you want to do better in the future. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices.
"This moment shouldn't be looked back on, but it should be remembered to inspire you to be better from now on."
"Right…"Dyson said back, still dumbstruck from a colleague's death.
As Gordon drove on, the jeep eventually reached a decline that opened up to a room large enough to be the Autumn's engine room.
Enveloped in shadows, a few squads of Covenant were roving the corners. They moved like they were looking for something.
"Hostiles up ahead," Noval said while revving up the chain gun. Fujimori was already taking aim with his assault rifle, making sure the Covies didn't know what hit them.
A patrolling Jackal turned around just in time to find the Warthog's bumper zooming into its skull.
While Gordon was ramming into more Covenant troops, bullets were flying from the Warthog. It took a while before the Elites could notice the jeep, returning some plasma fire of their own.
Gordon drove the Warthog into a half J-turn skidding halt, jumped out, jeep as cover and started firing. Fujimori landed all his shots on stray Grunts' heads that peeked their heads out of their hidey holes, While Noval saturated the air with lead. His .50 caliber shots tore chunks of metal off the cave's walls.
Clearing the large room of Covenant, Gordon decided it was safe to look survey the area, the two privates still seated in the Warthog. Where the road they were traveling ended, two short metal beams stuck out. Below was a deep, dark chasm.
"There must be some mechanism to cross this chasm," Cortana thought out. "Look for a control panel or switch."
Gordon walked a few yards back to the Warthog when he saw a narrow passageway, probably leading to the switch.
As he walked up the ramp, he let his guard down and met a red Elite face to face, the alien posing ready to strike at him. It tried to whack him with its Plasma Rifle, but Gordon ducked right in time. Moving for a counter-attack, he grabbed his crowbar and flung it upward, the dull end smacking right into its head, the lower jaws parting and hitting its upper jaw. It dropped the plasma gun and grabbed its mouth in pain. Gordon quickly whipped out his pistol and shot it in the head, the slug killing its shields and burying itself shallowly in one eye.
"If I had eyes, they would've been wide open," Cortana quipped in a nervous tone. "When we get to a basecamp, we're gonna get you a motion tracker."
Heart pounding but seeing the relative calmness of the area, Gordon continued walking through the unguarded pathway. It inevitably led to a control panel made of light.
"So, how are we gonna activate this thing?" Cortana asked.
Out of pure instinct, Gordon touched the panel with an open palm. To his surprise, the lights on the panel started moving and the beams in the chasm below extended to their maximum telescopic length, emitting what looked like a bridge made of light right above them.
"Uhh, that works, too, I guess."
Going back down, Gordon went to check on the light bridge first. To test its solidness, he shot one pistol round into it. The bullet looked like it made an imprint, but the light bridge continued to emit its smooth path. Then, he hit it with his crowbar. Again, it made an indent in the bridge, but the dent disappeared as soon as it was made. Finally, he took a step of faith. It felt solid below him, ripples of light streaming away from his boot.
"Is it safe, sir?" Noval yelled from the jeep.
Gordon didn't bother to reply. He walked back to the Warthog, started its engines and ran full speed across the bridge. Ripples of light were trailing behind them.
"I don't feel right," Noval muttered. "Its like we're flying, falling and driving at the same time."
Fujimori just kept on smiling.