BraK3R's A/N: Wow, I finished editing this chapter rather quickly hehehe. Hopefully if i'm not too caught up with school next week, I can finish the ten chapters by the end of next week :D

DelVarO's A/N: Hey there! I'm back again. Sorry for the slight delay but here is the new chapter and things are getting more interesting. This will be a bit more shorter, but only slightly and you wont really notice anyway. Have fun reading this. :)

Chapter 5 – Complications

0915 Hours, February 7, 2563 (Military Calendar) / Planet Venatio / Research Base Alpha

The base was dark and quite creepy. At least that was what Damian thought but he was sure that the others had similar opinions as well. The only source of light that they had were their tac-lights that were built onto their helmets but beyond that, they were walking down pitch black hallways.

Damian wasn't afraid of the dark. He'd been in dark places a lot of times during the war and it never really bothered him. No, what made him nervous was the silence. It wasn't just quiet here, it was that kind of silence, the one that makes you feel pressure in your ears, the type that makes you want to hear anything but that silence. Luckily for him, that deathly silence was kept interrupted by their constant footsteps and the occasional comment from good ol' Brass. Times like this really made the guy useful, to a degree.

Damian could see the small clouds of dust his boots made every time he stepped, which indicated that the outpost had not been used in quite a long time. From what he'd seen so far every function this base had had, was currently shut down, with the exception of the ventilation system which they were thankful for. He was pretty sure no one would be happy about wandering around a dark base lacking oxygen, though their vacuum-sealed armor system allowed a 15-minute tank of emergency oxygen in case they ever needed it.

"Where the fuck is everybody?" Sean asked. "I mean, as far as I remember this base had personnel of two hundred or more. They couldn't have all just vanished."

"Yes, they had two-hundred and fifty-three people here, along with a company of about 100 marines that were here for protection," Akira added, earning herself a couple of stares.

"How the hell do you remember these things…?" Sean muttered. "Anyway, where could they have gone to?"

"That's what we're here to find out," barked Leone as he stepped closer to a door, the first one they'd encountered on their trek through the dark hallways. Damian looked back at the way they had come from, the safety off from his BR55, and returned his focus to the door. It never hurt to be cautious and he would die before he'd allow something or someone to get them from behind. The Sergeant examined the door, found it open, and motioned them all to get ready.

Leone stood by the door, the rest of the squad falling into position behind him and on the opposite side of the door. As Leone pushed the door open, Brass and Sean stormed in, quickly examining the room with their weapons raised. Finding no one there, or anything that could be considered hostile, they lowered their weapons and gave the others the 'all clear' sign.

The rest of the squad entered the room and looked around for anything that could be of any use to them.

"It's empty," Mary muttered as she inspected one of the dusty tables.

"This won't do at all. We have to get the power on," Leone said. "The control room is on the second floor. If that won't work, we have to get to the bottom floor to activate the generators manually."

"Alright, then lets get a move on," Brass said and left the room with everyone else following him. In fifteen minutes time they reached the staircase to the lower floors since the elevators were offline. So far it seemed that the base still operated on minimal levels, barely. Whatever happened here had to be big to explain why the base had to be shut down.

They found more open rooms on their way to the staircase, most of them empty with no clues or evidence as to what happened, though some of them were quite messy. Nothing really, to indicate a battle or any sort of struggle but enough to indicate hasty movement, almost like an evacuation. As it appeared so far, the first floor seemed to be the floor where everyone worked, what they worked on was still a mystery.

One of the most intriguing things they spotted was in the mess hall. As they found out, there were enough food supplies here to last another year or two, so it indicated that the inhabitants of the base hadn't left for just any reason. It had to be good if they left all their food supplies here.

As they descended the steps down to the second level, they all wondered just what exactly happened here. There were no signs of battle at all, in fact, it seemed as though everyone had just stood up and left all of a sudden, though they were not really sure if it was from their free will, if the dead bodies they found in the jungle were any indication at all.

"Alright, the control room should be right around this corner." Leone announced as they turned the corner he talked about.

The second floor was filled with labs or rooms with research equipment in them. This floor was quite different from the first one. It was even messier than the first one, with scattered chairs and other things in those rooms. Leone stepped through the opened door of the control room and to their relief, dim light greeted them from the machinery and screens in the room. Sean and Akira walked to the machinery and began working to get the power back on.

"Kids, Damian, and Brass, I want you to search this floor for anything that might tell us what happened or even better, find someone still alive to tell us about it." Leone said gruffly.

"Roger!" Brass said and the rest silently followed him out of the room.

"Jimmy, you're coming with me, Damian, take Kyle." Brass ordered. "I'm not going to leave these two by themselves. They might get lost or do something stupid."

Damian nodded and motioned Kyle to follow him. He and Brass looked at the corridor and the pitch black that they saw at each end. "I'll take left." Damian said and without further words left in that direction, Kyle quickly following. They walked in silence for a few minutes with Kyle muttering something about Brass being an asshole. As Damian sidestepped a piece of the ceiling that had somehow fallen to the floor, Kyle took it upon himself to start a conversation.

"So what do you think happened here?" he asked.

"So far, i've got nothing on this place. One thing for sure, something funky is going on…" Damian replied.

"You think those bodies we found in the jungle came from here?"

"Yeah they could be, or maybe from the other bases. I don't know why would they leave the base though, it doesn't make any sense. The base is relatively safe in all regards and they had marines with them. They could have simply done a lockdown on the whole base and waited for us to arrive…but as we can see, they didn't." Damian gruffly said, illuminating one room with his tac-light finding nothing inside. "I don't like this. Where could they have all gone to? I mean, the jungle is not exactly the safest place," Kyle said.

"Yeah, it's not. I do know that if we don't find anything here though, we're going to have to follow protocol and make our way to Sierra Base. They might be there."

A soft hum suddenly spread throughout the base as white light quickly filled the corridors.

"Alright troopers we got most of the power back online, though it looks like one of the generators is still offline so we're going to have to activate it manually. Status reports?" Leone's voice sounded through the speakers in his helmet.

"Nothing yet, sir. The lights are on now though so it should make things easier," Damian replied as he and Kyle shut off their tac-lights.

"Alright, keep searching," Leona muttered.

"Roger that sir," He said and turned to his teammate. "Let's go."

They moved on through the now lit corridors and rooms. "What the fuck…?" Kyle muttered loud enough for Damian to hear. Damian exited the room he'd been inspecting and looked at where Kyle was looking at. What he saw was a black corner of the corridor, but that wasn't what made Damian so interested; what was so weird, was the gaping hole that the wall and floor had. They slowly moved closer, each removing the safeties from their respective weapons until they stood right in front of the hole. The hole itself wasn't deep, perhaps three feet deep and a piece of the wall nearby was missing but the most interesting part was that the hole appeared to be melted.

"Plasma?" Kyle asked as Damian crouched to inspect it.

"I don't think so. Look at the sides… looks like something dripped down there. There, see that?" he asked, pointing to one particular spot on the wall, which looked like it had been eaten away. Plasma doesn't do this, and I've seen enough plasma bolts to know how it works."

"Look there," Kyle said, walking near the wall to point to a small hole in it. Damian stood up and walked to him to inspect the hole.

"It was made by a bullet. Looks like they shot at something that was here," he said, indicating the wall and the hole in the floor. "And here's another one…" He quickly counted two more small holes, probably made by a side-arm, probably an M6D. Other than that, there was nothing that showed him what they had been shooting at.

"So what do you think made this hole?" Kyle asked to which Damian shrugged.

"I don't know, I think we should let Akira or Sean check this out. They know more about this than me, and Sean knows everything about covenant weapons,"

"Okay lets keep moving, there might be more stuff in that direction," Kyle offered, pointing at the darkened hallway behind them. Damian nodded and allowed Kyle to lead. As they walked through that particular hallway, Damian noticed more holes in the ground though much smaller than the first one they'd found. Eventually the corridor came to an abrupt halt in front of a large barricade made from tables, chairs, and other heavy objects that could've been found. Behind the barricade was another titanium door that Damian was sure lead to the third floor of the base. But it was unimportant at this moment. The important part was the door itself.

The door was welded shut.

"I think Sarge is gonna want to see this." Damian said.

Nik'ah'kum stood by the edge of the cliff that was to be his meeting place with Nichire. He'd thought over his plan dozens of times and he was sure that it would not fail. He had asked Nichire to meet him here and had shown up earlier to prepare everything that was to be needed. The plan he had was perfect and he knew that when he executed it, everyone would want to hunt every single one of the Oomans.

Oomans, the supposedly toughest soft meat to hunt. He didn't believe those tales of how powerful the Oomans were, how they were a good prey and that they could even reverse the roles occasionally if one were not careful enough. Nik'ah'kum had heard about hunting parties that had gone to hunt Oomans before, and he'd also heard about those that did not come back from those very hunts. Oomans were paradoxical creatures. They were physically weak, much weaker than a grown Yautja and they didn't stand a chance against one in close combat but in every Ooman hunting party that he'd ever heard about, there were always casualties.

Of course, casualties were a common thing against a formidable foe, but he doubted the credit that the Oomans were given. Regardless of what he thought about it, he knew for sure that they were not weak. The fact that they had survived a genocidal war against an opponent far stronger than them was a testament of that.

A rustle from the leaves of a nearby tree brought him out of his musing and he spotted Nichire studying the meeting place. The younger warrior turned to meet his Leader as he jumped down from the tree to land near him.

"Why have you called me here?" Nichire asked, weary of the young warrior. In his defense, a younger warrior to be calling their Leader in a secluded area of the jungle seemed suspicious.

"I wanted to discuss about the matter of the Oomans," Nik'ah'kum clarified.

"I thought that I had already settled this matter," Nichire growled. "They are not part of our mission and we must not draw them into our matters of affair," Nichire said angrily, clicking his mandibles from his irritation.

Nichire had followed the Oomans to their 'cave' to make sure that they would not interfere with the group's businesses. As long as they stayed in there, there was no danger to them and the hunting party would be able to complete their mission without any intrusions.

"I am well aware of that but I have something that might change your mind," Nik'ah'kum replied smugly, raising his arm to indicate the cliff.

Nichire eyed the cliff carefully. He wasn't sure what the young warrior wanted to show him there. Nichire was half-expecting him to attack now, to defeat him in a fight and take the position of Leader. With tensed muscles honed from years of experience, he walked with Nik'ah'kum to the edge of the cliff, truthfully curious of what was on the youngling's mind.

As they stood on the edge, Nichire looked down. The cliff wasn't very high, around a forty feet high drop down to the trees. Nik'ah'kum pointed down toward the trees and Nichire looked down at what he indicated. Nichire raised a nonexistent eyebrow. Around twenty dead Ooman bodies hung from the tree, one of the only things that were left from the first hunting party that they'd searched for. He had to wonder why Nik'ah'kum would want to show him this.

If Nik'ah'kum hadn't been wearing his mask, Nichire might've noticed the devilish smile that the youngling wore on his face.

A sharp pain spread through Nichire's back and he gasped in shock. He looked down and saw a pair of blades protruding out of his chest, a pair of blades that he recognized as the trademark wrist blades that all Yautja warriors used. It only took a second for him to bring the pieces together but he was too late to react. The blades left his back and reentered, eliciting a roar of pain from Nichire. He felt a strong arm grab his neck from behind and he was pulled down to the ground. He dropped down with a heavy thud, and Nik'ah'kum didn't waste a second; he stabbed him again and again, this time in the stomach. Nichire cried again but this time from rage.

"Coward!" He roared, ignoring the searing pain that it caused his lungs. It was a pure act of cowardice. No one would forgive Nik'ah'kum, no one. No warrior that honored himself would strike at an opponent's back, even before the battle started. No Yautja fought like this, unless it was a hunt, but this wasn't one. He tried to say something again but instead broke into a coughing fit and he felt warm liquid in his mouth. He realized that the treacherous bastard must've pierced his lungs.

Nik'ah'kum didn't reply. He simply crouched down near the weakened Nichire and reached to remove his mask, swatting aside Nichire's once powerful arms. As the mask came off, Nik'ah'kum was greeted by Nichire's hateful eyes. He took note of the amount of blood that was dripping out of Nichire's mouth, knowing well that if he were to continue talking, he would only quicken his death. Apparently Nichire knew this as well since he remained silent and unmoving. Nichire knew that his wounds were those that were often lethal, and his chances of survival were limited unless he received help. Unfortunately, he knew that help would never come.

"You…will pay for this," Nichire growled hoarsely, spitting out blood as he finished.

"I think not," Nik'ah'kum smirked as he inspected Nichire's scarred mask.

The young warrior moved to Nichire's side and kicked him in the ribs with all his strength. Nichire stifled a cry of pain and felt gravity take effect on him. The kick was powerful enough to send him rolling down from the edge and now he was about to meet the ground below. Nik'ah'kum stood on the edge, looking down as Nichire descended, eventually disappearing in the trees. He stood there for a few minutes, just in case Nichire survived and he'd have to finish what he had started. He knew that Nichire couldn't survive his, albeit cowardly, assault and this caused him to smile. With Nichire out of the picture, they would hunt the Oomans. Now, only one thing remained.

He walked to the bushes where he'd hidden his most needed item. When he reached it he crouched down, using his bloodied hand to grasp the small object that he'd lain there. He grabbed the Ooman burner that he had picked up from one of the dead Oomans, an M6D the Oomans called it, but he did not know that and did not need to. He aimed it at Nichire's mask. One clawed finger pulled the trigger twice and the weapon boomed two times, creating a pair of small holes in the mask.

He was glad that he'd taken the time to find out how to use the Ooman weapon, otherwise his plan would've failed. He had to wonder how the Oomans survived with such small and rather primitive weapons. Now, he had only one thing left to do. He raised the burner and aimed it at his own shoulder and pulled the trigger. Stifling a cry of pain he shot himself again, this time lower. Throwing the gun aside he breathed heavily, trying to ignore the pain. He knew that the metal projectiles that the burner shot were still in his arm but he could remove it later, it didn't really matter. Moving his fingers and wiping the blood from his wound, he then smeared it on the holes he had made in the mask. He would have to make it seem that Nichire had been actually shot.

He continued doing so until the mask was mostly bloodied by his own blood. All the while, he began grinning widely with the knowledge that the hunt would soon begin. Nichire was well respected on their home planet and in their hunting party. Many would want to avenge him and Nik'ah'kum knew that all too well, but he did not fear the retribution.

After all, the Oomans had been the ones who'd killed Nichire.

DelVarO's A/N: Ahh, that bastard. Anyway, thank you for reading this, i hope you enjoyed this chapter. Constructive criticism, suggetions and anything else you might want to say to me is always welcomed! Thanks for reading this again. Until next time, which will be around a week or two weeks from now.