Disclaimer: Halo and Genshin Impact DO NOT belong to me. They're owned by their respective owners and the only thing to my name is possible OC's and this story.
Anyway, enjoy.
"Internal dialogue"
"Regular speech"
"Foreign language translated"
Sound effects
... (Scene Break)
REQUEST: Left Arm Prosthetic
TYPE: Permanent/Covered
REQUISITES: Modifiable, Toolkit in Bicep, Implantation and Removal of Various Armors Possible - SPI Armor Mandatory , Sealed for Hazardous/Underwater Conditions, Increased Handgrip Strength, Sensors Placed In the Palm Extending to the Fingers - Not Solely the Fingertips
SPECIAL: Tier_3 (Wet work)
DESTINATION: REACH (Eridani)
AUTHORIZATION: S-311
SUBMIT_
...STAND BY...
REQUEST GRANTED_
...
JULY 24, 2552
0821 Hours
"Now move your arm up." The unarmored Spartan raised his hand, letting the doctor and engineer see the movement. The engineer only typed on her datapad as the doctor scrutinized the mechanical shoulder and the arm.
"Grab this and squeeze it, increase your strength slowly as you squeeze." The doctor presented him a very large, rubber ball in the palm of his hand. Titanium fingers grabbed it and slowly applied pressure. Rubber spilled between his fingers and nearly split apart when the hand nearly closed. The doctor took the ball back. Turning around to pull a cart with a tub of water in it, beside it stood a hotplate with a glass of boiling water.
"Now place the whole arm in this and freely move." Dumping his arm in there, he twisted, turned, rotated, and even wiggled his fingers. Underneath the surface of the clear liquid laid a steel gray piece of human engineering. The biceps and forearm were cylinder in appearance with slim braces and holes designed to implant armor plates such as SPI and even MJOLNIR armor. The elbow being a mult-directional, circular hand perfectly resembled the shape of an human hand with the exception of an faceted face for an armored hand plate.
"Now bring it out and let me see." Grabbing the wet appendage, he scrutinized every nook and cranny.
"No leaks. Now did you feel the water and how did it feel?"
"I did. It felt slippery and lukewarm. I felt it in my whole hand."
"Good. Grab this glass for me. Then tell me what you feel." Holding the glass up, it felt pleasantly warm; however it wasn't hot by any means. He relayed his thoughts to the doctor.
"Then I shall take my leave. He's in your care Ms. Flores." Flores took the doctors place, glaring at the doctors back.
"What he forgot to mention is that while the prosthetic can read temperature as well as the real thing, the temperature tolerance is vastly different. What may be hot for me, won't be for you. Which brings me to my point, what is hot for you would be detrimental to the prosthetic so don't stick your shit into where it doesn't belong. Understand?" The spartan nodded. Flores simply looked back at her datapad for a bit before putting it to the side.
Pulling a duffel bag with her, she came to the mechanical arm and opened a door on the bicep's interior side. Reaching inside, she pulled out a tool roll and unrolled it out in front of her.
"These tools will be necessary for continued maintenance, and if need be, emergency repair. If the worst come to worst, use this..." She pointed at a small pry bar.
"... to break your arm off. To do that, there is a 4 cm wide square on the top of your shoulder. You have to physically stab it and pry the arm off. I've also went ahead and provided you with a booklet on how to do all that and the specifications of the prosthetic." She pointed out the booklet, in one of the many poaches of the roll. Flores rolled the tools up and put it back in the bicep, closed it, and sealed it. She reached in the duffel bag and pulled out a sleeve with a hole at the end.
"Putting camouflage properties into the prosthetic itself is impractical since they would have to construct an entirely new arm for just you, which the UNSC will not invest such heavy resources for. Not to mention, nearly impossible to repair. Give me your arm." She started sliding the sleeve over his arm, the hole of the sleeve meeting the door on his bicep.
"It's far easier and practical to develop a sleeve for you and it'll work alongside your armor." Tugging the sleeve snug, over the shoulder; she reached back into the duffel bag. Flores took out SPI armor plates and attached them to the braces sticking out of the sleeve and faceted face on the hand. Taking a step back, she watched as the Spartan moved his armored arm freely. It looked as if the Headhunter never had his arm cut off, the prosthetic concealed under the sleeve and armor. He noticed the armor plating covering his bicep could be opened.
"Everything checks out. There are no leaks, your handgrip strength can crush high-grade steel, and sensors are operating fine. You are cleared for operation Spartan, but do take things slow. What we don't need is a dead soldier because he gripped his toys too hard." She thumbed to the door. Dismissed the Headhunter walked out into the halls of the secret ONI base.
ONI personal walked by the larger amputee, conversing with each other, staring at datapads, or by themselves. Within a few minutes, he arrived at a small bay with a small variety of exercise and weightlifting equipment along with an open space with padding on the floor and walls. A figure blurred in the padded area, shadow fighting Brutes the unarmored Headhunter noted. A blade inserted in one Brutes eye and a heel broke the jaw of another before the first Brute had his throat sliced open as his partner slid behind the brute. Kicking the imaginary ape towards its brethren, the figure followed the collapsed pair; stabbing the bottom alien in the eye and dragging it across its snout to the other eye. The figure stood back up turning to him, showing a sweat-covered tanned man that went past shaven and straight to bald along with a scarred upper lip; stood an inch taller than the amputee.
"I see that your shy." Green eyes glanced at the armored arm. Only a huff answered in response. The one-arm Headhunter went to a locker attached to a wall, placing the armor and sleeve. He could feel green eyes on his back, he gave himself a slight smirk.
"They told me to go slow... for your sake, of course." Silence greeted the Spartan's back, but he could be the glare getting competitively hotter.
"With a fake arm, you'll actually stand a chance. I tend to go easy on the handicapped." Turning around, the Headhunter walked to the mat; intending to meet that challenge.
"This cripple is going to put you on the mat."
...
His back landed on the mat again losing 35 of the 50 rounds. He would have done better if his unfamiliarity with his new arm didn't hinder him. It would normally be even though odds favored the CQB specialist. He took the offered hand and was lifted up his feet.
"You are getting better, more attuned to it." The man read his thoughts. They had been partners for a long time, an accomplishment for Headhunters. The amputee only scrutinized the contraption, 'flexing' it around.
"So it seems." He replied simply.
"Be honest with me, how did you really get that?" He pointed at the prosthetic.
"Looking cross-eyed at an energy blade." The man stared unamused and continued.
"The artifact unsettled you causing a lapse in judgement and reaction time to avoid the situation altogether. She had to call out to you. You reported that you grabbed the artifact and got jumped by that zealot. I didn't bother to correct that and I bet she didn't either. Being unsettled wouldn't keep you quiet however... what aren't you telling ONI? Telling me?" Silence permeated the room, he was trusting him then if his silence meant anything. He'll make sure to repay in kind, however he couldn't say now.
"I'm heading to the showers." He promptly left, leaving his partner behind. The Headhunter grabbed whatever he needed from the locker before heading into the showers near the bay. Walking out of it, refreshed and dressed, he stumbled upon a problem. A civilian problem. One of the base's scientists, as evidenced by her attire, stood outside apparently waiting for him.
"Finally, I've been waiting so long to meet you. Come, come! I need to talk to you." A French accent greeted him. She urged the Super soldier, almost reaching to pull the Spartan's hand. He held up a palm.
"Start over, ma'am." He implored. The lady coughed into her hand, and stepped back.
"Sorry, I'm excited. My name is Eli Collins and I'm the head researcher over you know what and I wanted to discuss with you about it. Would you follow me to my office please?" She said with a smile. He stood there for a second, contemplating; then nodded. Collins led him down a few halls, walkways, and a flight of stairs to a small office that over looked an atrium. She closed the shutters, blocking his view causing him to focus on her. A short blonde woman, hair tied in a bun; held great excitement in her brown eyes.
"Ok, so I read your report on the artifact. Nothing physically changed when you interacted with it, right? No colors shifts, difference in intensities of light, or physical alteration?" He nodded.
"Human interaction so far hasn't caused any physical changes either and appears to be dormant, with one exception." She held up a finger.
"Power! A fellow scientist left his equipment unintended for a bit, and when he came back; everything was dead! Drained! Here comes the exciting part, when we experimented with it and made some readings; it showed something truly remarkable. Flawless energy transfer, complex alien machinery with the efficiency greater than the light bulb! You have no idea what a breakthrough this could be." She started counting down on her fingers.
"Increased lethality on our weaponry along with development of new technologies, advanced shielding, increased fusion power, perfected camouflage, the possibilities are just endless." She rambled on, composing herself for a moment. Her eyes hardened and became calculating.
"So what happened when you carried it? You put it in your hard case, it stands to reason to think that it would have drained your suit for power. The Headhunter pondered on that before answering.
"After the retrieval of the artifact, my suit didn't report any power fluctuations nor any discrepancies in power usage. It operated in optimal operation despite the loss of my limb."
"Hmm..." The woman sat down, pondering about the source of information.
"...possible it can't drain if in a sealed container. The Covenant had it in a similar contraption. Is it possible that it had a form discretion for what it drained?" Collins muttered to herself, glaring at open air. She glanced at him after a moment.
"If it can take, then it can give. Has it given you anything? It may not have provided the suit, but has it provided to you? Do keep in mind that I don't have access to your medical files so I wouldn't know beforehand." That caused the Spartan to pause.
"...I can only lend my guidance to the door and the tools left behind." Is this what she meant? Perhaps she made it accessible to only him? Now that Collins mentioned it...
"There is something... when I underwent surgery to cut the dead tissue from the loss of my limb, the nerves were unusually in good condition. In my experience with plasma burns, they melt everything and burn nerve endings. It was if the nerves were never damaged or..."
"...The nerves were repaired or even grew back! Though there is no evidence to a correlation yet, but this conversation has already led to some insights. Thank you very much, B-311!" The smile came back in full force, the civilian leaned excitedly over; hand out for an handshake. The amputee shook the offered hand and nodded.
"Before you go, I need to ask you. Are you willing to-" A blare sounded off before a automated message echoed throughout the room and building.
"TO ALL UNSC PERSONAL, WINTER CONTINGENCY IS IN EFFECT. REPORT TO YOUR STATIONS AND AWAIT SUPPLEMENTARY ORDERS. THIS IS NOT A DRILL. REPEAT. TO ALL UNSC..."
All enthusiasm evaporated from the poor woman, leaving her to blink owlishly at the open space where the Headhunter occupied beforehand. She released a shaky breath, hands moving stiffly as she collected her things before reporting to her station, she had no doubt the Spartan was doing the same.
...
July 26, 2552
1201 Hours
Bolts of plasma flew past the Spartan's head as he pursued the fleeing white Elite Ranger. The Elite firing one plasma rifle behind it as the other faced the glowing end of the hallway.
"Headhunters, confirm kill of target." A man's voiced crackled over the COM. A bolt of plasma slammed an inch from the Headhunter's helmet, shielding taking the brunt of it.
"Negative Sword Control, pursuing target." Bullets impacted the Ranger's back, draining it's shields further. The distance between the two shortened as well as the distance from the exit outside of the facility.
"Don't let that Elite get away. Deny any assets it may have possessed." The Elite exited out the hall and vaulted over a railing into the outside courtyard. Both alien and human bodies littered the battlefield. The Elite took cover among the scattered crates and roadblocks, firing dual plasma rifles at the pursuing Spartan. The amputee didn't vault over and instead took refuge at the elevated platform. He swiveled around cover, landing a few shots with his DMR before rescinding at the returned fire. He swiveled back around, throwing a grenade at the Ranger's position.
The Elite rolled from its cover and evaded the resulting explosion; breaking a run for an empty courtyard at the far end of the facility. DMR rounds slammed into its skull as it ran, a Phantom arriving over the courtyard. The Covenant ship veered to its right side, a grunt manning the turret fired; forcing the Headhunter to cover. As the Elite nearly reached the Phantom's position, A sniper rifle shot cracked; piercing the Ranger's shield and leg in two. It slumped to the ground, claws pushing itself up before another shot pierced it's head.
The offending alien's head disintegrated and the body slumped near the Phantom. An Elite Ultra dropped down the gravity lift, all the while a plasma grenade arced and landed on the corpse. It blew in a blue ball of flame with burnt remains to show for it. The Ultra ignoring the thrown lead impacting its side and the dead grunt gunner landing on the ground in front of it, floated back into the ship. The ship careened away and towards the assaulting Covenant Corvette.
"Target neutralized. Assets denied."
"Confirmed. Friendly Forces Inbound." Turning around, the amputee spotted Covenant forces moving away from an attached garage to the gates. They were instead pushed by a duo of MJOLNIR clad female Spartans, one a fellow amputee in pale blue armor and another in dull gray armor. Moving faster and reacting quicker than Spartans could without MJOLNIR armor, they expertly took out Covenant soldiers at the forefront of the group. The Headhunter provided supporting fire, fully scoped into his DMR. Rifle rounds shredded Jackals and Grunts alike, before slamming into Elites.
The gray Spartan came into view at one point, giving him a good look before the entire group was wiped out. The MJOLNIR clad soldiers disappeared into the garage, intent on finishing their objective. His partner joined him, materializing beside him; sniper rifle in his hands.
"Sword Control, permission to assist Noble Team." He glanced at the emblem sitting on his own chest, to the right of his neck. A white moon with double crests spanning across it, both a different shade of gold.
"Negative Spartan, maintain security over ONI personal and assets. Let Noble do their job." His fists tightened aggressively before releasing, following the maroon Headhunter back into the facility.
...
August 14, 2552
0109 Hours
PURGING_
STANDBY...
...
...
...
PURGE COMPLETE_
The Headhunter enacted Bloody Arrow before disconnecting the cord from the server, ensuring reinforcements won't be wasted on the failed endeavor of saving the ONI facility. The facility head had already declared Omega Three and UNSC forces are attempting to escape the overwhelming alien forces. He walked to a monitor and turned it on, showing a map of the facility with a large network of cameras spanning it before he picked one. The small screen expanded revealing an hangar bay that had a pair of pelicans docked. What made this hangar bay special was that instead of the open air regular aircraft would go to, it went through an underground path in the ice. One of the secretive aspects of the ONI facility that few would be privy too, unless one knew how, where, and the motivation to look.
He was lucky that ONI built it or else he was essentially trapped, with the airfield covered in magma now. He learned of their more devious ways under their services by simply paying attention to here and there, not to say his misgivings about said Black Ops organization didn't help.
"Extraction vehicles located, sending NAV-point. Sending pass codes, confirm?" He tapped at the TACPAD.
"Acknowledged. Falling back. I'll rally surviving squads and rendezvous. Advise, I confirmed destruction of all sensitive physical assets, but one." Mixture of gunfire and plasma fire erupted off at that.
"Which asset?" It took a second for the other headhunter to respond, sounds of battle ceasing.
"The one we took." He plugged his cord into the machine and gave his TACPAD commands. The screen retracted its view, showing the same layout before with the exception of it being populated with yellow and red dots. Multiple of the yellow dots displayed names and ranks along them. He inputted a name and the monitor displayed a group of yellow dots clustered together in a dead end hallway, the UNSC forces cut off by closing in red dots. One prominent yellow dot stood at the dead end, labeled Collins.
"Continue onward, I'll confirm asset's condition and rendezvous at the hangar with surviving UNSC forces in tow." He disconnected from the monitor and left the room.
"Copy, happy hunting B-311." Firefights echoed down the many halls and corridors of the overrun facility.
"Like-wise." He readied his MA37, his body disappearing; leaving only a floating gun left.
…
"OPEN THE FUCKIN' DOOR YOU COLD-HEARTED BITCH!" A feminine voice roared out amidst the thrown lead, followed quickly by a long stream of French aggressive cursing. The amputee jumped on an Elite Major's back and plunged his knife into its throat before ripping it out. The body dropped as he put the knife back into its holster to the left of his head, upon his chest plate. None of the firing Covenant soldiers didn't notice their dead commander nor did they notice the rolling frag grenade by their feet. The explosion took the cluster of Jackals and Grunts, other Covenant soldiers whipping their heads around to see what flanked them.
A burst pierced a Grunt's methane tank, the body shooting off like a rocket. Another burst went through a Jackal's foot, leaving its head exposed above its glimmering shield. Gray matter smeared the wall behind it as the opposition rallied themselves and fired back. Gray armor materialized behind a short wall and shields popped into existence once power was no longer diverted to his camouflage. Plasma fire and needles struck into his cover, whittling it down. Two explosions sounded off, alien barking and gurgling mixed with gunfire.
The Headhunter brought his rifle to bear, helping the marines counter-attack. The trapped Marines had exited the doorway and brought the fight to the bastards after throwing grenades. The two-front assault proved to much for the few remaining Skirmishers, a Grunt, and an Elite Minor. As the battle ended, the Headhunter began issuing orders.
"Today's your lucky day Marines, I've got a pair of pelicans primed and ready to go. File in on me and I'll get you outta here."
"Fuckin' A, sir!" Other murmurs of agreement and cheers exuded from the group.
"Take stock of wounded, ammo, whatever you can think of. Lock that door and be ready to move out. I'll have a talk with Professor Collins beforehand." Receiving a round of affirmatives, he moved to the far back to see the good doctor. The woman stood at the dead end of a L-shaped hallway, her hair a mess with the bun miraculously holding together. Her eyes were red and puffy, glaring between a mounted camera and a wall with pure malice.
He took note of that. Was someone watching them? She, herself, was fuming with a handbag in arm before noticing the Spartan. Her face immediately brightened and tension seeping.
"Oh thank god." She looked like she wanted to cry again.
"Ma'am, I'm sure that you're relieved, however we have to move before more Covenant show up."
"Yes, of course I-"
"The artifact, ma'am." Her face became guarded, her hands on the bag tightening.
"I don't know what yo-"
"I know you have it, and as per ONI Protocol it must be destroyed to deny the Covenant an asset." He held out a mechanical palm to her, he peered back and ensured the marines couldn't see them. No doubt they could hear the two. He flicked his eyes toward the camera and took note that the woman could block its view of him. He shifted to his left and lowered himself.
"You don't understand, this is more important than you realize. It spoke to me-"
"Ma'am." He sternly cutoff while discreetly opening the compartment in his bicep, armor plate and door laying open from their hinges.
"Give me the bag so I confirm its contents and destroy it." He motioned a 'gimme' motion and Collins looked at the open bicep quizzically before realization dawned on her. She handed him the bag which the Headhunter brought in close to his face. His regular hand reached inside and quickly placing the glowing blue object in the bicep. Closing it and sealing it, the amputee motioned the professor to move along. She went back to the marines as he pulled a can of C-7 explosive out and flicked out a nozzle.
Ensuring the camera watched him and not the bag's contents, he sprayed a small amount inside the bag. Putting the can back, he pulled out a remotely-detonating blasting cap and stuck it into the explosive foam. Closing the bag, he left it on the ground in plain view of the camera.
"Alright Marines! I'm on point, follow my orders and my IFF tag. It's gonna be a long walk." He armor shifted color once again, blending into his surroundings. The doors unlocked and opened, the Headhunter clearing the area ahead before motioning the remaining survivors forward. The doors locked behind them, a dull thump followed shortly after.
…
He tilted the Pelican to the right, maneuvering inside the natural cave formation. He followed the glowing thrusters of the other Pelican, having its own share of survivors and a Spartan pilot. The dark ice cavern was illuminated by the spotlights attached to the Pelicans and the its thrusters. Luckily, his convoy of survivors met little resistance on their way to the hangar bay. He lightly chuckled at the thought, the poor scientist trembled with magnum in hand. He, nor the Marines, saw fit to mention that the safety was on.
The cockpit door opened and Collins walked in. Speak of the devil and she shall walk in.
"Look I really need to talk with you, the whole conversation we had before about the artifact; forget it. It-"
"She talked with you I take it."
"Yes, she di..."Sh blinked once, twice, then her face contorted into rage. "You... you knew... the whole time..." She finished with a growl. If she wasn't pissed then, she was now. The Spartan only nodded, the glare intensifying into the back of his skull.
"Withholding critical information is a severe offense Spartan. One ONI will not tolerate nor appreciate in the very least. So... why did you do it?" Her tone became cold as the ice around them.
"Simple." His visor tilted towards her. "I'm going AWOL." She stiffened at that, anger still present yet at a loss of words. She regained her composure.
"Why would you do that!? Are you not fighting for humanity, for the UNSC? We are dying by the billions and you want to... what run away?" She was seething at this point.
"It's more than that, and I'm not running away." He replied firmly, she didn't notice his hands gripping the steering handles tighter.
"Then what are you doing?" He saw a angry glint in her eye, her posture aggressively guarded but interested. He held up a finger.
"Firstly, I'm going to provide the Asylum to the UNSC, not ONI." He held up a second finger. "Secondly, I'll provide it on my terms and this is where you come in."
"You expect me to help you? You must be joking." She scoffed.
"On the contrary, I'm quite serious. Back where I found you, you were begging to be saved; weren't you?" She jolted at that. He continued, "Dr. Halsey, and ONI, are more similar than you think. Both do amazing work for humanity and work in humanity's interest."
He peered back at her, "And both will leave you to die just as easily, just like you; screaming to be let in. Just to serve their interests or their curiosity." Collins found the floor to be more interesting at that moment. "Believe me when I say this Collins, I suffered at the end of their god complexes before." The Headhunter audibly sighed, causing the woman to stare at his shockingly human display. "I'm... trying to save someone important to me, and I need to get her to the Asylum."
"Her? oh... OH... who's the lucky lady?" Now the scientist leaned on the cockpits side, smirking playfully at the amputee.
"What I need from you is the location of the gateway and to get off Reach." He ignored the question.
"Are you serious!? I'm a researcher and you'll need me there for when you enter. The artifact is my responsibility." She lost her smile immediately, however her anger dissipated significantly.
"No professor, I need you with the UNSC. You heard the... alien lady. Our 'inheritance has been sabotaged'. With how little information we have, we'll need to plan. We can't simply rush into this, but we can't drag our feet. The Covenant found this relic, they can find it again." The Spartan pulled out the instrument from his previous mission and his TACPAD. He passed both to Collins.
"We have to get there first, secure the gateway, and scout it out. Your knowledge and experience with the artifact is invaluable and shouldn't be thrown away so easily by putting you on a field trip. Instead you'll warn the UNSC and bring in reinforcements to secure the Asylum, from the Covenant and this unknown faction."
"I assume you'll be the one heading to the gateway." She took the device and plugged it to the TACPAD. She then pulled a card out from her lab coat and inserted it next.
"Yes, Spartan B-312 and I will head to the gateway, I'll see about taking Noble team with us. We'll ensure the gateway remains hidden and then we'll enter." The tool expanded once again, the doctor tapping away on the TACPAD.
"You do understand that you'll be taking the only key there, how am I suppose to get reinforcements in the Asylum?"
"That's the thing, you won't. There is some outside force in the Asylum that has betrayed an alien organization advanced enough for the Covenant to be interested in. My team will head in there and open the gate back open, if it's in humanity's best interest. The last thing we'll need is a two-front war from two genocidal alien factions. The worst humanity would lose is just two spartans. At best, we will have advanced alien technology and a safe haven from the Covenant."
"How can I trust you? You could never open the gate again. Leave humanity out to dry. It's obvious you don't like ONI, and opening the gate will let ONI get to you. What's in it for you?"
"My loyalty is to humanity and the UNSC, not to ONI. What kind of Spartan would I be if I let humanity die? After seeing worlds burn, seeing my comrade-in-arms die, and by being orphaned by the damn Covenant. I will not betray humanity." The Spartan shifted uncomfortably. "My goal... is to save my sister from ONI."
"You mentioned B-312... she's your sister isn't she? How are you even going to save her? Does she even need saving?" She sounded more subdued, more... compassionate?
"I'm not even sure how, all I know is that this is the best chance I have and probably the only one. I also know that she can't stay there, she'll just be used again and again until she dies, just like me. If we both survive this war, ONI won't let us go; we're both valuable and dangerous. They've fucked both of us over and gave us reason to spill their secrets. We'll either die in combat, die behind walls, or be assassinated. We both want to protect humanity, but I want more for us. I want us to live, Collins, just like you living after being cornered. Will you help us?" His visor met her eyes. She visibly gulped, lost in thought.
"Ok... yeah, I'll help. I'll help you. If I do die or go missing mysteriously, I blame you." She went back to the TACPAD. A few minutes passed as the Spartan continued following the lead Pelican before light spilled into the dark tunnel.
"That complicates things." He didn't like the sound of that.
"What complicates things?"
"The gateway is here, on Reach. I don't know it's exact location, however it's somewhere in the northern hemisphere."
"Of course it's here..." He remarked sarcastically, "Reach is under invasion and the Covenant are practically on top of the gate. They just don't know it yet. Hell, reinforcements haven't arrived yet to push the Covenant much less send more for the Asylum. Our odds aren't good, every time the Covenant has found a planet of ours; it always falls." He paused, pondering. "Actually, this could work." Collins looked at the Headhunter.
"How so?"
"When Reach falls, and it will fall, it will undoubtedly be glassed. We'll use that to our advantage. The Covenant would never expect what possibly be the last safe haven of humanity be a glassed world." Both Pelicans flew out from a hole hidden underneath an outcropping. Both vehicles flew close over the landscape and sped away.
"That could work, but there's still the matter of bringing reinforcements. Bringing a fleet of warships will no doubt attract attention and the UNSC fleet won't wait for long or else they risk annihilation from the Covenant." Spartan B-311 sat in silence for a bit.
"UNSC locater beacons, they can send messages through slipspace. I can take one with me along with a source of power. I can send a message to call the cavalry." The doctor blew air past her lips, crossing her arms. Her fingers tapped on her shoulder as she thought.
"This could work, however..." She pulled out the memory chip from the TACPAD. "You'll need this." She pushed it into the back of his helmet and a box of scrolling code appeared in his HUD. "It's a translation program I've been developing when researching the artifact. It should help you when interacting with their technology." It finished quickly and he handed it back to her. She gave back the scanning device and the TACPAD which he put back into the hard case.
"Nevertheless, you'll need my help finding the gateway's location. We'll need to remain in contact and I'll have to remain planet-side till then to do that. Also, you should explain all this to A-091, he is your partner after all."
"Already did."
"Yeah he did." Another male voice echoed in the cockpit. "He didn't mention me in the plan and I don't like the implications."
"That's because you'll be on babysitter duty. The doctor needs to escape at all costs, or else this mission will fail. I wouldn't pick anyone else for this, A-091." The cabin stood silent for a few moments.
"Fine."
...
August 23, 2552
1847 Hours
The Pelican zoomed low over the tundra, snow swirling in its wake. It closed in on a beach and landed, the bay splitting open. A lone gray figure walked out carrying all forms of equipment, implanting a large metallic base. He reinforced it with metal supports to keep it from shifting and implanted poles into the base. Connecting a power line to it and a cubic generator with solar panels, he activated both devices. The poles extended into the darkening sky, reds lights glowing softly along them.
"Doctor, another antenna array has been set up. Copy?"
"Readings green across the board, I should have enough to triangulate the gateway's location."
"These arrays are supposed to mimic the artifact's signal, right? Then we just send a pulse and see if we can get one back is the plan. Why not use the satellites?"
"That's the gist of it, a crude way of finding it sure. It'll keep our search localized and not attract Covenant attention since they're in atmosphere."
"Any progress on your end to find Noble team?"
"Actually yes, they're here in New Alexandria. B-312 was found helping the evacuation and later regrouped with her team. I've also came to find out that they have a dumb A.I. for support named Auntie Dot. Regrettably, I don't have the clearance to initiate contact; especially now." The amputee shuddered not from the cold, but relief. Contact with his sister was lost in OPERATION:UPPERCUT and the days he's been implanting antenna arrays.
"It's alright, I'll contact them myself; send me the COMMs to the dumb A.I. as well. I'll need you to get me the location as soon as possible."
"Alright sending the COMMs now. Give me some time and I'l-" Static filled the COMM line for a full three seconds. Soon hellish sounds came across the line before the Spartan recognized Collins voice. "-ovenant ar- glassing -ew Alex-dri-. We'l- need -o g-t out." A pit formed in the amputee's stomach as he connected a COMM line with A-091.
"Sitrep."
"Escorting Professor Collins out of New Alexandria and into one of the evacuating ships. Her lab got fried by a nearby Covie-ship glassing. How will you find the gateway now?"
"I'll ask Auntie."
...
"This is a restricted line, Spartan B-311. Explain yourself."
"I require assistance in determining the location of an alien artifact in the northern hemisphere."
"If that is all you require, simply ask another A.I. under the UNSC. My prime directive is to assist Noble Team and I cannot afford interruptions."
"I understand that any mission they are under is of the utmost importance. I believe this will assist Noble team which led me to contact you."
"Assist how?"
"This artifact may prove as a safe house, in a sense, that contains advanced technology which can either safeguard or provide a means of escape for Noble team should the worst comes when Reach falls. I may require their assistance to secure it, however if you help me; I can scout the artifact's location and provide intel later on."
"...Your explanation is sound. Provide the relative data."
"Affirmative. Sending."
"...Data received. Sending pulse... compiling. Found a reactionary response, sending coordinates."
"...Received, if I may, what is Noble team's status?"
"...Two Spartans are MIA, and the remaining members are green including Noble Six."
"...Thank you, Dot. Good luck to you and Noble Team."
"And to you as well, B-311."
...
August 25, 2552
1921 Hours
The snow under his boots crunched as he walked, his form blurred to nonexistence. His unseen form was tense, walking out into the open of a plain. He stopped on top of the coordinates, surveying the surrounding area. Nothing, but empty white met his eyes. He crouched down and swiped a hand through the snow, revealing frozen dirt.
Shit. That can only mean the thing was buried with no obvious entrance. How the hell was he going to get down there? He didn't have the tools on hand. He slammed a mechanical fist into the dirt, reaching only an inch. The frozen ground also made planting charges difficult. He turned to walk away before nearly falling on his back, his fist still implanted.
The ground glowed blue and he saw silver flakes of metal with glowing blue outer edges jutting out the ground, clamping his fist. Then more flakes appeared from the snow around him and stuck to his form. He resisted for what he could before it completely covered him from head to toe. Everything became dark and the amputee couldn't hear anthing other than his own breathing. He attempted to move his limbs to no avail before feeling inertia shifting in his stomach. He felt himself move downward, the process a slow crawl as seconds ticked to minutes.
The crawl turned into a sprint after 15 minutes as his stomach lurched to where his heart is. He kept counting until he came to a full stop after only 5 minutes. He was set down gently before the flakes slipped off as if it were water. Freed, he stood to his full height and watched as the flakes melded into the ceiling far above. The ceiling shifted and moved as if it were the rolling waves of an ocean. The ceiling, he realized, was actually millions of these things. The ceiling soon ceased its motions and settled as if were a normal part of the structure.
Looking around, he stood inside a large cavern silver with lines of blue lining the walls and floor. He stood on top of a dulling arrow with the point cut off, with a pedestal - reaching his stomach - beside him. The 'walkway' he was on was of solid metal and not seemingly made of the flakes with the exception of the floor below it. If he didn't know better, he was on a pier at the ocean with the metallic waters being calm. He stood at one end of that pier and the other end had a doorway of the same material. It laid dormant with dark lines ornately running along its seams and across its metallic double doors.
It looked remarkably human made despite its alien architecture. Pillars rose from the 'sea' and lined the pier. The pillars had the appearance of a hexagonal sliver blade, blue lines running down its sides. All the blue lights lit the room in a gentle glow, mimicking a slight mist in the room. He walked down the pier, his boots ringing very small metallic clangs. The sounds echoed in the cavern until he stopped in front of the double doors.
He press his regular hand on it, sensors in the glove giving him the sense of cold metal. It remained dormant unlike when he punched his way in. He peered at his prosthetic curiously before placing his mechanical hand upon smooth service. Nothing..., perhaps he had to take the artifact out after all. He reached for his bicep and a harsh light flashed in his face. The doors flashed into a bright orange hue and... disintegrated into glowing embers before they disappeared altogether.
The doorway's lines glowed a strong blue while the interior filled with a harsh white wall. He increased his visor's polarization and couldn't see through the white glare. He felt... tempted to go, however he had work to do. He still had a locater beacon to set up and a sister to find.
...
August 26, 2552
0021 Hours
The Pelican rose from the ground, flakes sliding off it's form. The painstaking hours to assemble all the machinery required to power and send a slipspace message to the UNSC left the Spartan slightly irritated and a bit... stir crazy. One other thing he did was setting up demolition charges he 'acquired' from some allied, abandoned, or occupied bases along the trip here. He couldn't afford to slip up and he would be damned if he bit the bullet and gave the Covenant bastards another gun to point at humanity's head. He thought of the sensors in some of the charges and how he tuned it into identifying UNSC IFF tags. He smiled at that, anything other than an UNSC IFF tag would be buried in an unmarked snowy grave.
He lifted off and flew off into the dark sky, keeping an eye out - both literally and figuratively - for the Covenant. He established a COMM link from the Pelican's console.
"Dot, area secure. Send me the location of Noble team for reinforcement."
"Denied B-311, Noble team has been extracted from New Alexandria and is being briefed on a mission deemed of high importance. I cannot divulge any more information. Strange... Restrictions on my capabilities aren't specified. The behavior is unlike Colonel Holland."
"Fucking ONI." The amputee internally hissed. He didn't like the ramifications of that, however he couldn't do anything about it. All he could do is prepare, perhaps he could bring in supplies for the expedition into the Asylum.
"Would you provide me inventory lists of weaponry, supplies, tools, and food; whatever you can find in my surrounding area?"
"Of course, B-311."
After a few seconds, he received a an affirmed light showing a completed download. He reached his destination and lowed into the snowy mountains. He quickly moved out and put a mesh over it. Coming back inside, he viewed the lists and compared it with the statistics from the BATTLENET. After five minutes of browsing through them all, his head jerked up sharply. He selected an item and looked at it's description and recipient. After staring at it for a while before exiting out of the expanded item, he continued browsing the rest of the lists.
...
August 30, 2552
1700 Hours
"-311, S--rtan B--, Re-pond." The amputee perked up, calibrating a MJOLNIR RECON helmet with an extra plate on its forehead.
"I read you Dot, however you're breaking up." He held the helm with one hand, hurrying past the numerous crates and equipment and onto the alien symbol.
"My -apab-li-ties are -ama-ed. -obl- s-x, las- su-v-vin- m--ber. N--s -mme-iat- ass--tan-e." He placed a hand on the pedestal and the symbol below his feet glowed. Flakes dropped from the ceiling and wrapped themselves on him. He felt himself move up.
"Repeat your last, Dot. I'm only able to understand very little." He felt himself speed along and soon he'll have to 'crawl' the rest of the way. The COMM line disconnected and wasn't reestablished. A message appeared in his HUD, he squinted and the message expanded.
Fuck, fuck, FUCK, FUCK FUCK!!! Muscles coiled and tightened, attempting to break out the metal prison. It didn't budge at all. Flashes crossed his eyes, the message mocking him, screaming at him. Each word stabbed at him, ever deeper as his eyes read the same line again and again. Almost completely ignoring the coordinates attached to it.
"Save her."
USELESS USELESS USELESS USELESS USELESS USELESS USELESS USELESS
...
Her muscles burned and she was always out of breath. Adrenaline burned out already long ago. Hisses of plasma, stomps of hooves, loud beeps of a depleted shield, and snarls and growls echoed in her mind absently. Something pulled the assault rifle from her hands before she could use the freshly inserted magazine. A clawed fist slammed into her face plate, broken pieces cutting her face. She grabbed the offending arm and pulled harshly, implant her dulled knife into the Elite's skull.
She turned the body around and plasma bolts slammed into the dead alien's chest. Her vision broken and fragmented, she threw her helmet off. She stumbled toward her fallen gun and gunned down an Elite Ultra, using up the magazine. She released it and before she could insert another one, she turned her head in time to see an incoming Elite General bringing a plasma sword to her back. She bashed its face with an elbow and fluidly blew a hole in its head with magnum in hand. She quickly inserted a new magazine as the body dropped.
The magnum magnetized onto her thigh and held rifle in both hands. She took a step before a long burst of plasma whizzed past her left, she returned fire; sending lead into a Elite Minor. Its shield popped then a line of superheated gases slammed into the right side of her chest plate. Both the Elite Major and Minor charged, the magnum finished the blue Elite off and the rifle's bolt locked back. The red Elite crumpled into the ground and a white clawed hand shoved into her chest, driving her into the ground.
She saw herself running in the tall grass, far smaller than she should be. A male voice followed her, the young voice offering all kinds of retribution once he caught her. She only giggled in response, taunting the minute-older sibling; vaguely she could hear an older couple's voices. The Elite Ultra pounced, plasma dagger aiming for her head. She stopped it with a foot and kicked it off her, staggering the monster. A thud sounded out throughout the forest, stopping the chase in its tracks.
A sleek purple pod popped open, revealing a very tall being covered in glimmering silver. It's head resembled that of the delicious live shrimp sold in the markets with two glowing blue eyes. Both twins stared in astonishment before feminine arms wrapped both of them and ran. An Elite Zealot came at her right with a plasma sword. She kicked the handle out of its grip, the Zealot staggering back.
Both twins overlooked their mother's shoulder's as a lean man in an UNSC officer's uniform pulled a firearm, shooting at the massive being. Several shots landed before it disappeared behind a tree. Their father followed his fleeing family closely, keeping an eye back with magnum raised. The Ultra took the chance to stab her throat with an energy dagger, but took an elbow for the jaw.
A flash of light momentarily blinded them before their vision showed that the children were higher up than they were before. Their mother lifted off the ground by a blade of intense heat, both twins turned their heads to see blurred space. A laboring gasp and hiss sounded, their heads turning to see red mist bursting through her mouth and nose; coating their faces in a red spray. The Zealot regained his stance and glared at the downed human. It activated a bladed gauntlet. An small animalistic part of her brain noted an Elite Zealot Field Marshall walking towards her, activating a plasma sword.
A cry of anguish rang out before the blurred space was tackled to the ground, the twins slipping from their mother's limp grip. More bangs echoed followed by human and alien grunts, growls, and curses; yet one prominent sound stood above the rest.
"RUN!" So they ran as hard and as fast as they could back home. The sounds of the struggle became quieter and quieter until silence remained. Both continued to run for they were defenseless. Weak. Hunted. Alone...
The Zealot brought its blade down, aiming for her heart as the other monsters came in to share the glory for killing a demon.
Yet they ran away together, both in hand. She didn't start out as lone wolf, however... she felt like that little girl again. It was ironically nice, to just be... together again... one last time.
Author's note: I'll be honest, crunching the Halo Reach campaign into a proper prologue is quite difficult with how large the timeline is. Yes, I know this ended in a cliff hanger, even though everyone will probably know what will happen, I felt like this was a appropriate time to end the prologue. I just don't want to leave chapters off as cliffhangers all the time, it makes me feel... a little douche and illiterate whether that is well founded or not. Though I am content with what I came up with, building the characters and slowly building the setting or atmosphere, I quite enjoyed myself writing them.
Anyway, cheers!