Disclaimer: I don't own Halo.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Stronghold
July 1, 2558 0314 hours
Forerunner Dreadnaught Petrarch's Glory
Unknown System
The ship had been moving steadily in system when it was hit.
Laura felt the dreadnaught lurch from what felt like a surprise attack, and had she not been up and getting dressed it would easily have rolled her out of her bed. As it was, she almost landed on the deck. Damn, what the hell's going on?
"Lorienna, what's happening, can you tell?" she called, grabbing boots, a brush, an elastic band.
"Obviously we're under attack," her friend retorted. "I can't say who's dumb enough to attack a dreadnaught, though—since I'm not in the system I can't see anything."
"Swell." Laura grabbed a pair of workout shorts—the tight black material came to mid-thigh and clung like a second skin—and yanked them over her underwear. "Any idea where the Spartans are?"
"They're in the briefing room down the hall." Grabbing the "wristwatch" which was Lorienna's current home, she slapped it on her wrist, grabbed the boots and hair gear, and sprinted down the hall.
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The ship shuddered as they took a second hit, and the group of Spartans had to grab on to something unless they felt like being jostled around. Kelly managed to steady Dr. Halsey with one hand.
"What the hell?" John yelled. "Who's shooting at us?"
The shipwide alarms blared, along with an unknown voice yelling alerts. Translation software whispered, "Unknown attack ships inbound. All crew to battle stations."
"That's all well and good," Fred started in, "but what are we supposed to do? And where's…?"
A woman in a slightly disheveled condition rocketed in the room, bouncing off a wall and ricocheting into a table, cursing as she went.
"…Laura," Fred finished, studying the figure. Dark hair tumbled and tangled down to her waist, a brush was gripped in between her teeth, boots dangled from her hand, and she was definitely not in uniform, unless you counted shorts and a sports bra as a uniform. The only other thing they saw was the wristwatch which held her AI companion and friend.
"Say a word and you die," she muttered around the brush in her mouth as she plopped into a chair and tugged a boot onto a bare foot.
"Not exactly regulation, though," John ribbed—he knew he was the only one who had the remotest chance of getting away with it.
"Would you rather I'd come in butt naked? It was bad enough that I got knocked to the deck when we got hit. Be glad I took the time to put something on." Shooting glares around the room, Laura spit the brush out and began yanking it through the tangled brown waves.
"Watching you is giving me a headache," Kelly commented.
"Then don't…fucking…look," she grunted when she hit a particularly large tangle. "Now what the hell is going on here? Thought…ughn…we'd get to Stronghold without trouble."
"That was before we got attacked," Dr. Halsey moved over and took the brush out of Laura's hands. "Let me help while they bring you up to speed."
"Um…yeah...thanks," she replied, fiddling with an elastic band around her wrist. "So can I see what's going on outside? Thought there wasn't supposed to be anyone near Stronghold."
"We'll know more once we can see what's going on," Tom pointed out. "Whoever's in charge hasn't seen fit to tell us anything."
"I'll take care of that, if you'll let me," her wristwatch piped up. Laura nodded awkwardly—since Dr. Halsey was still working with her hair—and unstrapped the watch, handing it to John. The Spartan pulled out the data chip and slid it into a computer data port that was nearby, and within minutes Lorienna had an outside view of the action.
"Looks like the Covenant," Fred pointed at the display screen, where three Brute ships were closing on their position. "How the hell did they get here?"
"Those aren't Covenant." Laura pulled forward, her hair sliding out of Dr. Halsey's hands as she scrutinized the screen. "Look at the attack patterns, the lack of evasion tactics. Not even Brutes are this stupid. This is something else…" Her voice trailed off and her face took on a vacant expression.
"She okay?" Mark asked as he passed a hand in front of Laura's eyes—an activity that normally would've met with some sort of response, but this time went seemingly unnoticed.
"Give her a minute, she'll come back," John replied, watching in case she slipped too far away. Forerunner memories, gotta be, he thought—it was the only thing that could make her go elsewhere like that.
"Myrnia," Laura whispered finally, then shot out of her seat as if her shorts had caught fire. She even scrambled across the table to get to the ship's intercom—everyone in the room was forced to hold back a chuckle as she tumbled off the table, landed in a tangle on the deck, and scrambled up to punch the button on the intercom.
"Captain, do not let those ships come close! They are loaded with Flood!"
"Laura, what—" She didn't let Fred finish before she cut in.
"Stronghold was a Forerunner science lab, they were researching biological materials there. It was also one of the first worlds to fall in the Forerunner Empire." Glancing meaningfully at John and Dr. Halsey, she continued, "One of the first worlds to fall to the Flood."
"Then those ships…" Dr. Halsey began, her face paling.
"Are loaded with Flood forms," Laura finished. "Those damn Brutes probably got there first on a lucky shot, went looting for old Forerunner tech, and let the Flood loose. And if they've infected the ships, then it's a fairly safe bet they're gonna be all over Stronghold." She raked one hand through her dark hair. "All over Stronghold, right where I need to go."
"We're going with you…" Linda began.
"No, you're not, not when there's nothing but Flood on that world." Laura stood up, long hair reaching down to her waist; in spite of the lack of proper uniform there was no mistaking that she was a deadly warrior. "If I don't go, I'm dead anyway—my mental state will only keep deteriorating. I have no real choice in the matter. But there's no way in hell I'm dragging any one of you down there, not when there's death at every step."
"Yeah, and we all know what happens when you go against the Flood on your own," Fred reminded her with a pointed gesture at her knee; the scars were still visible from Dr. Halsey's repair job. "You'd be dead in seconds."
"We're going with you, Laura—get used to it." John placed one hand on her shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Besides, you need someone to keep you grounded."
The fight dimmed out of her brown eyes as she remembered her encounter with Alaya's ghost three hours earlier. "All right, but I'll need to lead us when we go down there. John can handle the orders and combat, but I need to lead us everywhere we go. I'm the only one who knows the layout down there."
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Dr. Halsey asked quietly.
"I understand your fears, but I promise you they are unfounded," Alaya's voice reappeared in her head. "I will lead you, and if I must I will protect you."
"Not like I have a choice, doc," Laura reminded her. "I have to do this."
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"No, I cannot allow anyone else to come with me," Laura argued over the comm. On the other end was the Forerunner High Council, the shipmaster of the Light of the Prophet, and her brother on the Apache.
"And you really think the Spartans are going to be enough backup?" Matt asked.
"It's not a question of the amount of backup, but a question of how many people I want to risk. Believe me, if I had my way I'd go alone and not risk anyone else but me."
"How?" the Sangheili shipmaster asked. "No one can stand against the Flood alone."
"I have no clue, but since the Spartans are insistent on tagging along it's a moot point," she pointed out. "But I'd feel better if fewer people were at risk."
"Do you even know where you are going?" one of the High Council asked; by the sound of the voice it was one of the Jiralhanae.
"Yes, actually. I know exactly where I'll be going."
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Laura met up with them in the landing bay, armed with an MA5B assault rifle, dual submachine guns (a good idea considering the Flood's preference for swarming), and several grenades. Lorienna was present on her wrist and she had on one of her modified blacksuits; long ago she'd modified several of them with additional flexible joints in key spots, and had compensated for her lack of protection with a portable shield generator that she'd finally perfected.
"We good to go?" she asked, checking once again to make sure her rifle was in good shape.
"Almost. The High Council's on it's way down." John looked over her gear, and she could tell from the slump of his armored shoulders that he was concerned. "I'd feel a lot better if you were wearing armor."
"I feel better with this, Chief," Laura pointed out, using his rank to remind him where they were; right now they were teammates, not lovers. "This is what I know, and there wouldn't have been enough time for me to readjust. 'Sides, if I'm right we'll have bigger things to worry about."
Their conversation was cut short by the appearance of the Forerunner High Council, along with Arisaya and Arnyris. Laura noticed with amusement that the young warrior was hovering protectively near the scientist, and she was certainly not sending him away. Then again, she may not be able to say anything in front of the Council, she thought. Still, it was nice to see Arnyris was trying.
"Laura," Arisaya greeted her, handing her an unusual headset. Laura recognized it as a camera of sorts. It basically hooked over a person's ear, with the camera fitting over one eye, a mouthpiece, and a portable power pack. "This will allow us to see what you see."
"In lieu of actually going down to the planet yourself?" Laura smiled her understanding. "I'll do what I can to keep you informed."
"That girl…she looks like me," Alaya's voice whispered.
She's your descendent, Alaya, she thought in amusement. Placing one hand on her shoulder, Laura nodded farewell and clipped the headset on her head—the equipment was oddly familiar, but considering it was Forerunner tech Laura wasn't too surprised. Turning her head, she headed onto the Pelican and strapped in.
"We online?" she murmured.
"Yeah, Laura, we hear you," an unexpected voice popped in—Laura's head snapped up in shock at her younger brother's voice.
"Matt?!"
"Yep," Matt Morisson confirmed, a grin evident in his voice. "Every one of us is online to this headset—we all get to see what you see."
"Joy. Anything you can tell us about what's going on outside?"
The Sangheili shipmaster's voice broke in, "The Brute ships have been driven off or destroyed, and we are sending one of our own to meet you on the planet. The Arbiter has requested to accompany you."
"Got it. I'll let the others know…"
"No need, Laura," Matt snickered. "This is basically the command frequency—they can hear every word we say."
"Matt, I am going to kick your ass," she muttered, but without heat; she was just irritated at being the butt of a joke.
"Promises, promises," he returned before signing off. Laura shook her head, a small smile on her face, but underneath she was nervous beyond belief.
"You're quiet," Ash noticed after half of the ten-minute ride to the planet passed in silence.
"Yeah, I know," she replied. "Real out of character for me, isn't it?"
"Extremely," Fred snickered. "More often than not you're spouting a blue-streak over something, usually involving ONI."
"Especially involving ONI," John pointed out. "But you're not even saying anything—what gives?"
Laura shook her head once, the signal that she didn't want to discuss it. "If we survive this, I'll explain later. Promise."
"We're gonna hold you to that," Linda promised. Laura nodded, but her features were tight. Even she could feel the tension.
"Why did you not tell them?" a familiar voice whispered.
Now's not the time for them to know, she thought back. The last thing I need is for them to be so worried about me that they get themselves killed.
"They will worry anyway, especially your lover." A chuckle echoed in her mind. "This reminds me so much of how protective Corin was of me, once he realized he loved me. Your John seems the same."
How long have you been watching us?
"Not long, but what I have seen is enough." The voice faded as Laura felt the Pelican touch down. Unstrapping and jumping out of the seat, she all but bolted out of the dropship, eager to make sure all was safe before anyone got hurt.
"Clear!" she called, which was somewhat unnecessary considering the rest of the Spartans were right behind her.
"We noticed," Mark commented dryly. Laura glared at him and surveyed the area.
The landscape reminded her of the hills behind Camp Hayes: rolling and green. About four kilometers away was a large structure, though small in comparison to a lot of the Forerunner buildings she remembered: it was about the size of two football fields to look at. Overall, there was nothing to make her worried, but she had an uneasy feeling of death surrounding this place.
"Which way?" Fred asked. Laura held up a hand, meaning to hold position; a noise to her left had made her hesitate, but there was nothing to be seen.
"Friend or foe, show yourself," she called in the Sangheili language, guessing the identity of the concealed scout. Within seconds the distinctive armor of the Arbiter had materialized from thin air.
"The shipmaster said you'd be along," she nodded as the warrior approached.
"I would not miss a good fight, and I am curious to know the secrets of this place," the Arbiter replied.
"That makes all of us," John pointed out, moving forward to greet his old comrade. "Good to have you with us."
"Likewise, Demon," he nodded.
"Hate to interrupt, but maybe we should move this inside?" Kelly broke in.
"I agree," Tom nodded.
Laura didn't say anything, but she mentally agreed with them: the sooner they got this over with, the better. It was getting harder to think over the memories crowding her mind, and she felt too exposed out in the open. Deciding they'd follow when they were ready, she cocked her rifle and moved forward.
"Where you going?" Fred called.
"Inside," she replied over her shoulder. "Better make sure no one's waiting for us in there. Plus, the longer we wait the less time I have, remember?"
Behind her she heard everyone scrambling after her, but her mind was focused on the door controls in front of her. From the looks of things the building had been set into a lockdown mode, and without the codes they wouldn't get very far.
"Lockdown," Lorienna whispered. "Is there a data port somewhere?"
"We won't need it," Laura replied tonelessly, her voice distant as Alaya's consciousness nudged her.
"Let me in, and I can enter the codes. I have given you my word."
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John and the others watched as Laura's face went blank, and her hand moved to the control panel. Opening a hidden catch, she revealed a keypad and entered commands so quickly they couldn't make them out. The door hissed open and she turned to face them: her eyes were the same as when she'd been in the holo-simulation.
"She is safe, I promise you," Laura whispered, but her voice had an unusual echo to it, like it was coming from a great distance. "I swore I would not take her body for longer than was necessary."
"But why take it at all?" he asked, hoping Alaya could understand standard.
"She does not have all the knowledge she will need, but I do. All I wish is to know what happened here, to my friends and comrades. Why do you think I called her here?" Within seconds the distant look vanished, to be replaced by a stunned but conscious Laura.
"This is going to be awkward," she muttered, studying the open door. "Useful, but awkward."
"Laura?" John asked. She nodded.
"It looks weird, and I imagine you have a lot of questions about what just happened, but we don't have time for them now. I promise I'll explain later if we live through this." Raising her rifle, the Spartan took a deep breath and walked through the door.