Aboard UNSC Infinity, one million kilometers over Thail, 2186 Citadel Calendar, 12:24
...Tali's pretty sure her temperature was just growing exponentially hotter by the hour. Condensation built up on the glass. The view completely fogged up every time she breathed. She could feel the pools of sweat stuck between her skin and suit.
She probably had a few minutes' exposure at the most before her suit's mechanical function sealed the gaps. Well, she'd also figured due to the EMPs the filters were working improperly and let in all kinds of bacteria.
She was swimming in antibiotics when she finally fully fixed the gear. Her suit systems tried to hamper down on whatever bosh'et got into her systems by...raising the temperature...or was that just a fever?
Oh, Keelah, she was barely able to prevent herself from vomiting inside her helmet.
The doors opened to a larger, dimly lit room with blue lights. IT had a low hanging ceiling with hanging wire. Still, it was more elegantly designed than the rest of the ship with hardcut metallic, geometric shapes overlapping the floors, walls and ceiling. A large bridge window that made up the opposite at the end of the room was cut into six sections by metal supports. The area directly in front of the glass was lower than the other sections of the bridge. A circular table area took up the center of this depressed area.
Maybe Liara and Shepard might appreciate the delicate beauty of the purple, alien ship designs, but Tali is more awestruck by the bulky, hard cut shapes of the UNSC ships. She grew up on such ships, lived on them all her life. But unlike her home…. Her previous home, the Migrant Fleet, this ship was enormous and spacious. No clutter or crowded and cramped rooms. They had more than enough breathing space..
Blue computer monitors were attached on every section of the walls with thousands of data numbers, statistical analysis graphs and solar system tactical readings. Small subspaces with rows of computers and seats where men dressed in a similar uniform as Lasky with the grey bullet vest, black underlays, and spinal casings worked. Work station areas separated by guard rails and pillars made up other sections. There was another door on the left side in a slightly raised area.
And in the center of the room was a large thirteen by six electronic table. A holographic display of a blue solar system. A yellow figure stood on the side of the table. Arms crossed, dressed in some ancient uniform in a thick flight jacket with buckles and some type of flight head covering with goggles.
"Captain on deck!" The yellow figure announced to the rest of the crew. Everyone stopped what they were doing and quickly turned to salute the Captain.
The crew quickly noticed the four other people. Shepard was only given a quick look over. Their main focus was on Liara, Tali, and Garrus. The "aliens".
Right… As a Quarian, she wasn't looked upon very highly. And out in Citadel space, before and while working with Shepard, she had become more aware of her surroundings. The stares and the whispers. The xenophobia and the racism.
But the people aboard this ship made her feel like they were afraid she was going to set off a bomb. A mix of the same disgust she was used to along with absolute fear and confusion.
But their attention was quickly moved to the person behind them. The Master Chief. A human. Supposedly. Genetically modified beyond comprehension. Highly advanced armor, at least compared to whatever the hell the regular UNSC Marines used, which to say the least looked extremely old and primitive with only bullet proof vests and from what she could tell very light kinetic barriers on selective soldiers. With such advanced ships why do they have such old ground technology? Every time they fired off a shot, Tali's suit sensors overflowed with the stench of lead.
But the Master Chief, in his highly advanced armor, with the shimmer of a kinetic shield on par if not better than the crew's own… The person himself was just...strange. The quietness and distance that made him almost as invisible as the Normandy in stealth mode, he was barely a shadow in the corner, at least to the Normandy crew.
But it wasn't the same for these Infinity crew members. When that soldier entered the room, they disregarded the 'circus side-show' (as the human saying goes) of Shepard's crew to stare at the Master Chief. It was a state of awe.
"At ease. Get back to work, gentlemen." Lasky said, slightly irritated. It took them a moment, but the crew sat back down and turned back to their work. "Roland, status update?"
The hologram quickly looked at the others, then reported in an energetic tone, "Admiral Alvares' fleet reports the God's Key is secured and they're moving to support Battle Group Dakota. The Arbiter and his fleet are refit and refueling, no ships lost but they took a lot of hits. I doubt they'll make it back to the front. Also...about Alvares…"
"She's pissed, isn't she?" Captain Lasky asked.
"To say the least she's freaked out. The Salvation came back with more news. Lord Hood will arrive within a couple hours with the reinforcement fleets. We also got word from ground teams. They're pushing through slowly but surely. The squids are giving a hell of a fight."
Lasky nodded, turned to Shepard's crew. "Meet Roland. AI extraordinair. Without him this ship would fall apart."
"Aw, thanks, Cap. You flatter me." The hologram responded, arms still crossed.
The AIs… From their personality alone, these computers were old and had developed over a long period of time. Highly advanced after years of technological evolution, able to utilize an armor system as a storage device. Maybe the AI used the human's armor as a carrier system while his quantum blue box and logic files, or whatever they use to program AI, stayed behind.
It's impossible to transfer zettabytes of information unto such a small platform. EDI's data room took up a small portion of the crew deck on the Normandy. And she was one of the most advanced AI in the galaxy...
Or used to be. UNSC AIs seemed to have capabilities beyond anything they've seen. But to have an AI running on anything but Eezo adapt and translate systems and data that quickly was terrifying to think about.
The only thing in comparison was Reaper cybernetic capabilities… the Indoctrination. Slowly degrading the mind of their victims at an unprecedented pace with pure cryptologic...
Overall, not only does the UNSC surpass them in ship technology, but they also surpass them in cybernetics. The only advantage their side of the galaxy seemingly had thus far was ground technology. On a mass level, the UNSC had no combat armor mold or easy-carry weapons blocks, or something similar to the well-rounded Omni-tool to provide tech, medical, communications, cybernetic, and shielding support. At the very least, the average UNSC soldier's gear could hold off against EMPs.
"Roland, you probably know everyone here from the report. He'll help you track down Captain Florence, EDI and Leng. Hopefully they're still aboard the ship but unfortunately for us, ONI is sneaky." Lasky continued.
"Speaking of which, EDI's Normandy system can't help us, Shepard," Tali began. "If this AI, Contradiction, was able to access a decent portion of EDI's systems, he would've cut the connection between her and the ship."
"I thought EDI was the ship. So they just stole her...second body, right?" Shepard said.
"Well...it depends on how you look at it. Data is cycled between the ship and her body. Contradiction, or whoever, probably waited when large amounts of data was cycled to her body then cut off her connection. So, the... majority of EDI was kidnapped." Tali explained.
"Wait. EDI is a ship AI then? What's with the robot body then?" Lasky asked.
"Well, it's complicated. EDI is an electronic defense warfare AI. Enhanced Defense Intelligence? But she has some control of the ship, and along with the operating crew, helps run the ship including electronic warfare, more complicated algorithms, and of course the mobile platform to provide an extra shore crew member-"
"So...you essentially described a ship AI. Except without the robot part." Roland said with the same patronizing and mocking tone as Contradiction.
"Yes, except ours was less snarky and didn't rudely interrupt people." Tali replied. "EDI's connection was most likely cut off during a data cycle. So she's out there...in her 'robot body', as you call it, unable to access the Normandy."
It still doesn't make sense how he got by so fast though. Sure, this UNSC AI got through by using the FM frequency. But...well, an Eezo runned electronic defense system hasn't exactly been tested in response to an unidentified system runned off most likely what is to be considered, "conventional" electricity. The most likely scenario was that even if Contradiction's access didn't come off as a threat it should've at least read as some type of anomaly and drawn EDI's attention.
"So, we're basically on our own...along with the crew of a five kilometer warship?" Shepard said. "Do you have any idea where ONI might've taken them?"
"We've detected no launches, however that doesn't mean they still jumped ship. They could've easily temporarily disable a sensor to an auxiliary hangar and launched a Pelican with everyone aboard. But they'd still have to be in system…" Captain Lasky turned to Roland. He opened up a display
It was the solar system. Small blue dots represented their ships. Most of them surrounded the Mass Relay.
At this point, with the worsening fever and the shock of first contact, terrifying design structures, and the overpowered presence of their navy, she just couldn't be surprised anymore by mere numbers…
There were over a hundred-and-fifty ships in system alone. Easily able to overpower the local Reaper forces and take the system. And if she was listening correctly, it was just a single fleet.
"Roland, start tracking life form-IFF signals. See if you can bring up any unidentified life forms. That'll most likely be Lieutenant Leng and his men. Or maybe even Captain Florence if they disabled his IFF." Captain Lasky continued. "Coordinate with other ship AIs in current non-combat situations. Priority one unless support is needed for an immediate combat situation".
Roland compiled and typed orders onto a holographic screen. It didn't make sense why though. He was an AI, he could just file orders without even moving.
She then realized it was a simple avatar. Probably programmed to put the humans' minds at ease, something that makes sense to them.
"Well, sir, I've scanned the ship dozens of times over and the security teams are making constant sweeps, but so far they've come up with nothing. But they are currently a little disorganized to put it lightly." Roland said. "Lieutenant, you're doing a really bad job so far."
"What can I say, I graduated last at officer's school." Dubbo replied in that accent, heavier than Tali's.
"Tali, is there anything you can do to help them?" Shepard asked.
"If the Normandy can't track EDI, then we can always refer to Specialist Traynor's expertise. Track them through the more complex comm systems. Maybe through Cerberus data channels if ONI hasn't figured out how to disable those.
"I still don't understand why they're doing all this in the first place... Why ONI is doing everything they're doing," Tali added.
"And we still don't understand what these Reapers are, or pretty much anything else about you people and your species." Lasky said defensively ss if he was trying to cover it up. "Get this Traynor online, see if she's able to provide assistance."
"Right...Hey, Shepard, you might have to break it to Joker that his girlfriend's been kidnapped." Tali commented jokingly.
There wasn't the usual calming, playful response. Not even from Garrus who was uncharacteristically more silent than usual. Then again so was Tali. This was Shepard and Liara's show. Their speciality. Garrus was here to kill something afar and Tali was here to hack into tech and open up a locked door here and there.
But Shepard was silent. A disturbed, pained look on his face. He quickly brushed it off, and simply nodded the confirmation. Liara looked worrisome. The same type when Shepard goes a little too far into the brink, thinking about the people on Earth...the people all over the galaxy that he can't save. The people they all witnessed die.
Shepard waited for Tali to call.
Tali didn't reply to the Commander, a little weirded out. She opened up the comms to the Normandy, Traynor's voice came through and it was shaky and concerned as if she'd been crying or something.
"Oh hey, Tali. What's up?" She said.
"Hey, Sam… Everything ok there?" Tali asked.
She hesitated, and spoke slowly. "...Yeah. Everything's good. What can I do you for?"
"Uh, ok, if you hadn't heard EDI and a few others are currently...in someone else's possession and we need help tracking them."
"What?"
"They might've been kidnapped." Tali replied awkwardly.
"By who?"
Oh yeah… On top of everything, Tali also finally began feeling the migraine from the heavy exhaustion of the past week. "That's a long story, but...just we can't track EDI down on the conventional channel. Kai Leng and his men are with her… And no, they weren't the ones to kidnap her. See if you can track anything down on some hidden Cerberus channel or emergency transponder signal. I'm sure they have plenty of those."
…
"I've got multiple cross signatures frequencies from a single origin point. But where that origin point is is another question… If it's on an alien ship, I need access to alien comm channels." Traynor said. Her face was displayed on Tali's Omni-tool.
Shepard looked to Captain Lasky and his men as they stood on the other side, separated by detailed holographic images of Illium and orbital ship positions. His arms were crossed. He looked to Roland who only shrugged.
Roland looked to Traynor. "Would you be even able to translate our comms with your systems? We use conventional radio, the normal electromagnetic radiation with frequencies and everything in normal space."
"I can, but it wouldn't be triangulation since we're in a three dimensional area, so I'd need four separate points to trace the position of the origin point."
Lasky and Roland looked uncomfortable. They weren't going to give up those comm channels.
Tali sighed, another wave of fog over her visor, antibiotics and sweat dripping down her face. She opened up her Omni-tool, accessed current Citadel and Alliance ship locations within the system. There were maybe three Illium defense cruisers left and a couple dozen civilian frigates repurposed and refitted for space combat. On top of this, the makeshift defense force was supported by six Alliance cruisers and eight frigates.
The specific Cerberus frequency, Leng's frequency, was untraceable. It's because it used an onion-router system that interlaced with local frequencies. It matches the hijacked signal's frequency and locks itself with a stealth encryption so to the operator it looks like mere background interference. And like an onion router, it reflects off antennas and goes through dozens of radio points, switching frequencies and constantly being reflected, finally translating into their original frequency to reach their main communication points at light speed.
Half of that knowledge Tali knew from repairing radio tech aboard the fleet, the other half was from constant babbling from Traynor. At the very least Tali understood it unlike the rest of the Normandy crew.
But because Cerberus communications used Eezo, their interlaced frequency stood out like a Geth infiltrator in a crowd of organics if it were placed in a conventional radio wave setting. To the UNSC it might look like minor, possibly natural gravitational depression that they weren't able to investigate in the middle of combat, but to the rest of the galaxy, it was a sore thumb.
"Uh, Sam, do you think you can trace the Cerberus signal only?" Tali said.
She was quiet for a moment. A blank expression before she finally sighed and rubbed her face, "I mean, with the signal so visible I guess I could try? I'll use the Normandy as one point, just find me two others."
Tali complied, entered in two random points from an Alliance and Illium asset. Linked her Omni-tool to Traynor's computer.
She began to 'square' the origin point. And with just manual calculators, it was harder to say the least. She was doing what EDI could do in literal milliseconds.
It was maybe about a minute before Lasky turned to Roland. "Connect a conventional channel, then encrypt it. Give them a hand."
Traynor received an unidentified anomaly from a FM frequency.
"Alright, I got my calculations. I'll send them to you, input them in your calculations." Roland reported. Less than a second.
Traynor inputted them as fast as possible. She calculated the new points and tracked down the possible location of the origin.
"Damn Cerberus encryptions… Uh, hold on. I have to go through multiple communication points… Switching from Illium to Alliance channels… Oh, wait, I can't access the UNSC comm channels-"
"Traynor." Shepard said warningly.
She stopped for a moment, as if her computer lagged. She stopped inputting numbers and scavenging through comm channels She looked away, a hand to her mouth. She turned back, distraught.
"Right." That's all she said. No awkward, continuous sentences that would never end as per usual. She just cut herself off.
What was going on?
Shepard had always helped the crew through the worst and the trivial. You could always talk to him, you could trust him, joke with him… But Try Not seemed almost scared of him.
And Shepard didn't seem himself. Cold, distant, maybe slightly hostile. Something was off-
"Woah...the channel…" Traynor said, emotions replaced by shock.
Tali saw it too. The channel disappeared.
"Woah, woah, woah, alright, this is interesting. Stand by." Traynor added.
She moved on to other communications points. About a dozen new ones… All Cerberus encrypted.
"Captain, we got a priority line!" Roland announced.
Lasky pressed a button on the key-pad. A new channel was opened up.
"They're everywhere!" The voice screamed out. Tali saw the small imprinted words. Commander Kuasu, UNSC Staff of Charon. From the looks of it, the small dot that represented the Staff of Charon was spread far away from the rest of the ship clusters. Maybe a couple million miles from the Relay.
Lasky quickly looked to Roland, then to the channel. "Commander Kuasu, this is Captain Lasky, please clarify."
"We've been boarded! We can't fend them off. We need priority assistance!"
"Captain," Roland said, "I've got twelve new signatures entering the bogies, attack trajectory right at the Staff of Charon. Ranging from one-hundred-twenty meters to one kilometer. Uh, foundational structure-"
"It's Cerberus." Shepard said. "They found Kai Leng, they're probably trying to extract him."
"Should we engage?" Lasky said to Roland. Not to Shepard.
"Sir, Kai Leng was extracted by ONI. So far I only see damage from boarding ships, no weapons fire. Maybe for the moment we should consider them on our side?" Roland clarified.
"Right. Did not engage new contact. Get Shepard proper clearance and move them to their shuttle and get them down there. Their people are also stuck on that ship.
"Master Chief!" Tali again all of the sudden noticed the giant behind Captain Lasky. He stood at attention. "You're on the first Pelican in. Find Captain Florence, get him the hell out of there."
All he did was nod, confirming orders.
"And if Cerberus is using deadly force against UNSC personnel?" Roland said.
"Well, you people have ship cannons larger than most frigates." Tali replied.
…
Admiral Osman herself was here… Well, that answered the question on how far up the ladder this goes. All the way to HIGHCOM itself, the forefront, the head of the United Nations Space Command.
There was a lot of scary darkness in ONI. The hidden background of the Spartan-II project and the creation of the Spartan-IIIs and later the IVs, the whole blacklisted incident with this Doctor Halsey person, the vague reports of the Mona Lisa incident, Project Freelancer and its controversy with AI rampancy.
ONI's good at compartmentalizing and sectionalizing. The fallback officer or subcommittee to blame it on when there's no evidence to disprove otherwise. All the UNSC could do was prosecute those accused and try to dig deeper.
Now the house of cards had fallen. After all this time one would think the UNSC would completely shut down ONI Section Three, but it was a very blurry puddle of official documentation or organization charts or anything.
Some people worked for Section Three for a while, then they don't work for Section Three. Fully impossible to track down.
And Osman being here… Well, she's a risking a lot. So maybe she isn't bullshitting, or whatever information they think Florence had was worth everything to ONI.
What did it have to do with Captain Florence hesitating?
...The voice….
Osman sighed, looked over to Captain Dare. Dare shrugged, and looked to the mess of papers.
"We understand your...hesitation in helping us, Captain. We know our past interactions haven't exactly been friendly and we fully understand our reputation with the Navy, but this is a matter of Humanity's security-"
"Prove it." Mark said, blunt and direct. He crossed his arms.
"I'm sorry, Captain. This information is classified-"
"Classified only to you! Only to ONI! Does FLEETCOM know?"
"Captain-" Dare said.
"Does FLEETCOM know?! More fucking importantly, does HIGHCOM know?"
Captain Dare was silent. The blank, hard stare as she stood completely still. Osman answered the question.
"They'll be briefed on the situation."
Mark mockingly held his hands out.
Mark, along with every commanding officer of the Navy, knew that in this new age of uncertainty and renewed strength, ONI couldn't care less about Humanity's safety. Humanity is safe. Will always be safe with the institutionalized junta of the UNSC. ONI was doing this to cover their tracks before HIGHCOM finds out and Lord Hood sends her to a noose, firing squad, or gas chamber.
"Admiral, I have no inclination to believe a word of anything you have or will say," Mark said. "I want to speak to Lord Hood, or any other commanding officer in FLEETCOM."
"Understand that we're not capable at this time…" She quieted down after awhile. Seemingly stopped by frustration and realization.
And it made Mark realize that the high pedestal Osman placed herself on was gone. The knowing that she could not only completely wipe out your entire career but silence your unpowerful life was simply not there. This was very, very unusual.
But with Osman that might be possible. The lying bitch. Doing everything beyond her power to further her own agenda and goals…. But she doesn't usually play this role, pleading and begging. Threats and coercion were more her style.
There was some type of tapping on the window. Captain Dare looked to the window, rolled up her sleeve and looked at a mechanical watch. She tapped on her comms, and Mark could barely hear a voice.
She turned to the Admiral. "Someone's tracing our communications. Someone outside the UNSC. We're being tracked."
"Can you stop it?"
"Negative."
Osman simply nodded, she turned to the door, leaned out into the other room. "Nothing's changed. We're closing shop."
Out of time.
No one panicked. Mark could hear muffled rummaging behind the mirror. Sounded like people packing boxes.
"Captain, we have to move." Osman said to Florence.
Mark shook his head. "I think I'll stay here, with all due respect, ma'am. If Humanity's security is at risk, then I'll inform FLEETCOM."
Captain Dare spoke. "Captain, neither the Navy or HIGHCOM have the ability to help you. ONI is able to handle this situation-"
"Don't argue. Subdue him. We're moving in five. Anything we can't pack up we burn.," Osman said. The personality of her highness had returned it seems.
Dare nodded and walked to the door. Mark could hear more muffled packaging, someone barking orders. Osman let Dare exit first, then followed her. Seconds later, two ONI agents in enlisted naval uniforms entered the room.
Mark didn't even have a chance to move. One of them pulled out a SMG and aimed it right at him. Another agent rushed him, grabbed his arm and restrained him. The one with the SMG lowered his weapon and took his other arm.
Mark felt like his arms were about to snap, pain erupting throughout the muscles. The agents walked forward to the door, and all the Captain could do was slightly slow them down. His hands were cuffed. One of the men called for other agents, and two more came. They grabbed the captain by the legs and elbows and lifted him off the floor.
He could slightly move his head and get a clear view. They carried him out of the room to a hallway filled with analysis computers and data records. Personnel were either transferring the data to moveable files or destroying it all together.
He didn't see Contradiction. An AI would be able to do this work almost instantaneously. Maybe they were using him for something else. Something that's somehow more important than erasing or securing all the evidence that could destroy ONI high command.
They took a left, and Mark saw Lieutenant Banks as he was speaking to another soldier. He quickly nodded to the soldier as he joined the other agents.
Mark could say the only logical and reasonable thing that was on his mind.
"Fuck you, you stupid bitch."
"Appreciate it, sir." Banks quietly replied. He fell behind.
Mark didn't know where Captain Dareor her holy majesty herself Admiral-fucking-Osman went. For all Mark knew they were on the other side of the galaxy trying to clean up any evidence of the stupid mess they made.
The ship Mark was aboard had to be somewhere nearby. Somewhere in system if somebody outside the UNSC was still tracking them.
He wondered if he could've stalled long enough for the Navy or whoever to get here, get them the hell out. He didn't know how. Start kicking his legs even though he could barely move them, move his arms even though they were about to break.
They stopped at a heavily reinforced door. Banks stepped forward and punched in a security code.
The doors opened to reveal a hangar specifically designed to hold a Sahara-class heavy prowler. A two-hundred-and-eighty-one meter ugly tan colored ship that looked like a junked transport. Heavy jagged shapes and dented wing tips. Uneven spacings and little to no armaments. God, he felt bad for the guy who was in charge of that prowler. It's an embarrassment.
Past the ugly prowler lied the pressurized shield curtain, displaying the empty black void decorated with pale white lights and the dim glow of the garden world hundreds of thousands of klicks away.
The agents moved him to the ship. Right in front of the ramp leading up to the Prowler, two other people on their knees as ONI agents held assault rifles right at their heads.
It was Lieutenant Leng and Edi, or whatever the hell her name was. Leng looked okay, slightly less pissed off and more concerned about what the hell was happening. Edi was worse for wear. The orange holographic visor over her eyes was gone. A few wires were hanging out of various compartments throughout the body.
A robot? Scarily it looked very human-like for a robot. Maybe that explained why she wasn't moving, not even breathing.
"Lieutenant Leng, you alright?" Mark yelled out as he was carried along.
Leng was panting, speaking in between breaths. "They took my men. I don't know what they did to them."
"They took my men too. Said they're holding them hostage." Mark replied. He struggled against the agents as they continued toward the prowler.
If he got on that thing, and if it passes through the Key then the Navy might never find him. ONI could make him disappear forever. And the UNSC wouldn't know where he went.
"Keep moving. We are on a goddamn schedulem" Banks yelled to the agents carrying Mark.
They moved forward, about to head up the ramp Leng was slowly moving out of sight.
"Captain, what is going on? I assumed this was part of some elaborate containment protocol. Where are they taking us?" Leng yelled.
The agents stepped onto the ramp. They carefully moved him down two steps at a time.
Mark yelled out. "Leng, these ain't the good guys! This isn't the UNSC! These are anything but the good guys. They get us on that ship, we're fucking dead…."
He leaned all his weight on one shoulder, able to twist his body and look back to Leng and the deactivated EDI. "Get us out of here-!"
Something hit him upside the head. It wasn't a fist, some type of metal baton covered in an electric purple light Banks pulled out from his gear holster. Mark's body started to limp as he felt his skin burn.
He felt dizzy and nauseous. He couldn't move his head, swaying as the agents moved his body back to its original position. He just saw black metal floor tiles as the agents got closer and closer to the Prowler's entrance door.
"Immediately once we jump ship we're going dark. Osman already jumped. The Spartans are next, then us." Banks said to the agents.
"What about the other two we picked up and the other agents left aboard?" One of the agents asked.
"The agents are gonna have to take care of themselves. As long as the data is transferred and dumped they don't matter. As for the other two-"
A speaker came online, disrupting Bank's orders, "attention all hands, attention all hands, immediate encounter, first contact seven seconds ago. Multiple unidentified targets intersecting our trajectory. ETA: less than three minutes. Prepare for immediate counter maneuvers, increased gravitation."
The agents stopped. Mark couldn't tell what was going on but he heard adjacent footsteps, probably from Lieutenant Banks. Mark could feel his lungs constricting and the slight shift of the center of gravity towards the shield door as the ship turned portside. He tried to breathe those small hyperventilated breathes as the ship bound to suddenly break or hard-turn to change its trajectory vector, throwing off the point of gravity. People and cargo had to be locked down so they wouldn't fly around. They wouldn't be able to launch the prowler.
There was a loud bang. The ship shook and power went out for a few seconds before backup electric routes went online.
Banks got on his comms. "Bridge, what the hell is going on?"
Mark could only hear blared static and a panicked voice that seemed to yell 'they're everywhere!'.
"Bridge, repeat! We need to launch immediately!"
"-gative, multiple ships on a direct collision course! -evade immediately!"
"We have to launch, Captain!" Banks yelled back.
There was no response. At that, the agents moved up the prowler.
There was another voice on the comms. Panicked, screaming. "They've entered our shield bubble! Point-defense systems overloaded and are down! BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!-"
There was a split second of silence, as if the air was sucked out of the room and sound wasn't able to travel. Then a deafening roar of metal being crushed and a distant vacuum opened up. Mark's body was tossed in the air, twisted and hit the black metal floor of the hanger.
The air was kicked out of his chest. He gasped to regain breath. He turned on his side, grabbed his abdomen in pain.
People were stumbling around, trying to regain their senses or maintain what little order was left. ONI agents and security soldiers scrambled. They tried to make their way to the prowler.
Mark looked above, saw a large hole in the corner where the wall and ceiling met. A gigantic white pod filled the space, painted with the same seal Lieutenant Leng wore. The black elongated hexagon cut at the bottom end, surrounded by two paralleled orange lines.
The pod opened and soldiers jumped out, fell to the floor and activated some type of jet pack at the last minute. They wore heavy, bulky white armor patterned in orange stripes that covered their shoulders and upper chest. They wore a black mask with menacing slanted red eyes that served as a visor and probably helped with psychological warfare. Thick black underlays that just looked like more armor lie underneath. Heavy, raised shoulder guards that encompassed their necks.
A heavy frontline trooper armed with small, white submachine guns and the same type of battle rifle Shepard used.
They spoke in a deep and commanding voice, "move! Move dammit! Stun and subdue! Nonlethal rounds under any circumstance!"
Men shouted orders and into cover and tactical positions. Soldiers with metal riot shields moved forward and provided mobile cover. They fired off, hopefully, non-lethal rounds at the downed ONI agents as they tried to recover. Some fell to the floor, gripping body parts as they curled on in pain.
Mark rolled onto his stomach, tried to vainly crawl away from both the agents and Leng's soldiers. He wasn't trusting those fuckers. He just needed the distraction. He didn't think Leng would have this much pull
"There's Captain Florence!" One of Leng's soldiers called off.
Fuck.
One of the soldiers reached him, stowed away the rifle and brought out a medical kit. "Sir! We're here to get you out! We'll prep you for medevac-"
"Who the fuck are you?" Florence yelled out.
"Second Assault Company, Cerberus. We're under direct command of Lieutenant Leng!" The soldier said in that deep, electronic voice..
Lieutenant Banks was about fifteen feet away. He reached down and grabbed a DMR, aimed it at one of the soldiers and was about to open fire. Something stopped him. A visible electric bolt traveled throughout his body. He fell to the floor, unconscious.
Lieutenant Leng calmly walked past him. The anger was back on his face. He stood over Mark and the medic, reached out a hand.
Mark stared at it for a moment, got up on his hands and feet and stood up on his own.
...
"Get down!" Some Cerberus soldier called off.
A ONI soldier dressed in black variant marine armor fired off a rocket launcher. The missile hit a small group of orange and white soldiers, throwing them in various directions. They fell to the floor hard, blood painting their armor. Most didn't move.
"Sir! Keep pushing to the next hangar! We gotta get them to the transport!" One of the soldiers said, leaned next to Mark and Kai Leng as they hid behind the wall of a perpendicular hallway as riot shield troopers pushed forward. Only three at a time could fit and keep going forward.
Mark breathed in. He was a little shaky but overall recovered from that humbler baton ordeal.
Leng gave Mark some type of heavy pistol. A square block design, two barrels separated by a centimeter of space.
He didn't fire it. He considered firing it at Leng or a Cerberus soldier, but he wouldn't get very far. There were a lot of Cerberus troop that just half dragged him, half pulled him to the next location.
But at least they didn't put Mark in handcuffs.
"These better be fucking stun rounds, Lieutenant!" Mark yelled No hint of fear. "This is an internal matter! Where the fuck are you taking me?!"
Maybe Mark should be less accusative. But a fucking direct attack on a UNSC...ONI ship.
Each combat ship had dozens of point-defense cannons designed to eliminate projectiles and enemy fighters and transport class ships ten-thousand klicks out. The only way to get past those fifty-millimeter explosive defense cannons was to either destroy, disable, or cut off the power supplies as the Covenant always did with their superior battleships.
Or you could completely overwhelm the guns similar to Russian World War Two tactics, as it seemed Cerberus had done.
Mark guessed casualties and losses were deemed acceptable.
"We're taking you back to the Infinity, back to Captain Lasky! We assume that'd be the safest place at the moment!" Leng said. Mark still couldn't get over the naturally angry face. The white visor goggles didn't help.
"And what the hell did ONI say to you!? Why did you believe me over them?" Mark yelled.
Maybe it wasn't the best time to ask those questions…
"They didn't say anything to me besides be quiet! They moved me from room to room and took my men! They then moved me to that hangar, then you came along!"
Maybe ONI deemed him a possible threat and tried to study him as best they can in the span of forty-five minutes, an hour? Why waste their time trying to do all that instead of just jumping out of the system as fast as possible? Did they have time to spare and were just bored?
No. There was some type of nervousness besides waiting to prep a ship-
There was another explosion. Mark leaned over, saw riot shield troopers push forward. It seems the ONI soldiers fell back to a more defensible fighting became slightly quieter as it moved down the hall.
"If you can't find your soldiers now then my best guess is they were taken with Admiral Osman. She already jumped ship before the rest of your men showed up," Mark said.
"Who?"
"Osman. The bitch is running this sideshow! ONI is our intelligence branch, but they have a lot of black divisions that operate outside of UNSC jurisdiction!"
"And which black division is this one?!" Leng asked
"I don't know who they are but they obviously want whatever information you, me, and EDI has."
The Captain looked back. Two lightly armored soldiers were down the hall fifteen meters back, tending to the robot Edi. Orange, geometrical lights surrounded their hands as they waved them over the disfigured body.
Leng leaned out and viewed the hallway. He and another soldier did that half-forced drag as they moved down the hallway as they pushed Mark forward. They stayed low as bullets flew by, blocked by riot shields.
Mark heard a loud dent. He looked past the riot shields and saw what it was. The one on the right side was bent in half...by a person. The operator was on the floor, in a bloody heap and unmoving. The figure standing over him moved on to the operator in the middle. He directly punched the soldier in the stomach despite the heavy armor. The Cerberus trooper bent down, and the figure grabbed him and shot off a pistol directly in his mask numerous times until there was nothing left but a mess of scrap metal.
The last riot shield trooper on the left was thrown back. Another figure removed the shield and threw the operator into the hall wall. One punch to the head, and blood seeped through his helmet. The soldier fell to the floor.
Tom and Lucy. Jesus. They're still on ship.
...The Spartans turned to the other dozen Cerberus troopers in the hallway.
"Who the hell are these-" A Cerberus soldier said before he was gunned down by Tom.
And if they reach Leng and Mark they'll be back in ONI custody all over again… or maybe they'll be dead.
At the very least, Cerberus was keeping Mark the hell away from ONI… So at the moment, they seemed like the least worst of the two.
"...Leng, we got to find an alternative route!" Mark said.
"Why? I've seen these same soldiers before, who are they?"
"Spartan supersoldiers. We can't take them! We gotta find another way while the rest of your men slow them down for as long as possible!"
Mark immediately moved deeper into the perpendicular hallway and began to look at the walls for an opening. Every UNSC ship has them. Emergency service hatches that are tall enough for a human to stand in. It saved a lot of soldiers back in the War when the Covenant began to board ships.
Mark found a hatch and opened up a number pad and limited alphabetical pad. He began to type in his service number as Leng and another Cerberus soldier covered him.
He heard another Cerberus soldier being finished off by pistol finished typing his service number. The hatch door opened into a dark, narrow hall poorly lit by red lights.
"Iota and Epsilon squad! Hold them off for as long as possible then fall back to the secondary extraction point! Theta squad, take EDI and prep her for a zero grav evac! Sigma squad with me!" Kai Leng yelled to the Cerberus soldiers as they were quickly picked off one by one by the Spartans.
Mark and Leng stayed back, let about four Cerberus soldiers enter the emergency hatch. Leng then entered after Mark. The Captain turned back to the hatch, typed on a keypad within the service hall. The doors sealed shut on officer's authority.
Hopefully that'll hold them for a while.
The muffled fighting of Cerberus's laser-like weapons and UNSC lead bullets continued. Orders were being barked. Footsteps running back and forth.
"Ok. The path to the nearest hangar will be marked by blue arrows. Follow them and we should get there," Mark said.
The soldiers nodded and turned to the hall. They activated tactical lights on their armor and examined the walls closely for blue arrows. Mark and Leng followed.
"Spartans?" Leng said.
"Yeah. SBest soldiers the UNSC has. You need something done fast and efficiently that no other unit is trained to handle, you send them," Mark replied.
And the disturbing part was that ONI got a hold of the few original Spartan IIs and IIIs left. Mark didn't know the full extent of Spartan operations and who they bounce with, but he, like everyone else, was assured the Spartans were under the Navy's authority.
But he had to wonder what the Spartan-IIIs were told. They were trained to follow orders. Not pick sides in this stupid internal matter between the Navy and ONI. Spartans did a lot of shady things, blurring the lines between black, white, and grey. They were assets that switched hands in order to do what needed to be done in order to benefit Humanity.
He liked the idea of the Master Chief better. A frontline supersoldier, no political ideologies or selfish gains. Fighting until the very end to defend Humanity… No bullshit like this.
"They chewed through our men like bubble gum. Where they hell did they train?" A soldier said.
"I don't know. It's classified even to me," Mark only replied. They already knew too much.
They turned right into another service hall. They had to be only a few dozen meters away.
Mark changed the subject "So what are you guys exactly? I think Commander Shepard said the Systems Alliance was...their Earth's military, so what does that make you?"
Leng was silent for a moment. A hand on his sword as he constantly looked around.
"People with very different ideals," Leng replied quietly. "If you want to talk about it, you can talk to my boss once we get out of here."
They turned down another path, coming up on an intersection. Something immediately tackled the Cerberus soldier from the adjoining hallway. His entire body flew backwards. The figure turned to the next Cerberus soldier and gunned him down with a shotgun. The blue armor of Tom illuminated in the tactical light.
Mark instinctively grabbed Leng by his collar and dragged him back. He turned around and the two began to run down the hall. The fourth Cerberus soldier tried to turn around, only stopped when Tom grabbed him and threw him at the wall.
There were multiple paths to the hangar. Mark turned left, followed a green arrow path which should lead them to a maintenance room. From there, they could redirect to the hangar.
They maneuvered through hallway after hallway, avoiding direct routes and taking less used service halls. Mark guided Leng by the green arrow path, finally reaching the emergency hatch to the maintenance room. He then switched paths, following a new set of blue arrows.
No sign of the Spartans so far. No muffled sound of gunfire or slayed bodies. Just the tapping of feet hitting metal as they tried to see through the dim light.
They turned right down another hall and Mark could hear the banging of metal on metal. The Spartans were just down the corner and they were making their presence known.
They were maybe a few dozen meters from the hangar hatch. Mark could see the light at the end of the tunnel through the small secured window of the hatch.
And from an unseen intersecting hallway the orange outline of a figure blocked the hatch. And if Mark knew any better, another figure was right behind them.
Kai Leng pushed him out of the way, charged right at the Spartan. Jesus, Mark didn't take him for a fucking idiot. With a single hand a Spartan could literally crush a Human skull. Leng couldn't take him on in hand-to-hand combat
A blackish dark blue light surrounded his body like a shield. Lines of light moved and twitchedalong the shield line. It concentrated in his right hand, forming some type of glowing ball in his palm.
He aimed it at the Spartan, igniting some kind of blue colored shock wave that threw the one ton soldier backwards about a dozen meters towards the hangar hatch.
Tom's body completely ripped through the hatch. The door screeched as it was ripped off its hinges. The faint sounds of gunfire became clearly audible. The Spartan was on the hangar floor, unmoving.
Leng stopped, hands on knees, panting as if he ran a marathon. But there was no time to rest. Lucy was most likely right behind them. Mark grabbed Leng by the arm and dragged him to the hangar.
"I didn't know you could use the force." Mark said, running past Tom. He could see the Spartan was still alive, just knocked out.
"What's...that?" Leng said between breaths
Mark saw the white, orange outline of a Cerberus transport. Another one of those small bricks with engines parked in the middle of the hangar. A large battle continued at the edge of the hanger as numerous Cerberus troops held off against ONI security soldiers. Cerberus troops established a perimeter around the transport, providing cover fire against hostiles.
Jesus Christ, Leng, don't make me fireman carry you.
Leng was near collapse. Mark placed one arm around his shoulder and half carried him to the transport. Another Cerberus soldier ran to them, took Leng's other arm and helped him to the transport.
The soldier spoke, "sir, we detected the Normandy a few thousand klicks out along with multiple UNSC transports from the Infinity. ETA: few minutes."
Mark spoke, "if they're from the Infinity then they're from Captain Lasky. We can trust them-"
"Hostile incoming, lookout!" Someone yelled.
Something hit Captain Florence square in the back. He was knocked down instantly. The black that engulfed his vision during high gravitational maneuvers nearly consumed him. His vision was blurry. He felt sick.
He could only feel the cold floor, barely able to turn his head despite the heavy protest of a sharp, stinging, paralyzing pain that traveled up and down his spine.
Lucy… Shorter than every Cerberus soldier… Took her shotgun and shoved it right into the belly of the Cerberus soldier helping Leng. Pulled the trigger. A splash of blood as the soldier was thrown back into the floor.
She turned on Leng. Before he even had a chance to collapse he took a direct left hook to the head. Mark could see blood paint her knuckle. Leng fell, and he didn't move.
Lucy holstered her shotgun, took out a pistol and began to shoot the other soldiers. Turned to Mark, and grabbed his gear's pull collar. Dragged him back towards the hatch.
Mark couldn't do anything. Just felt the increasing pain in his back and a scary numbness that grew in his legs and lower body. It was hard to breathe. Something sharp jabbing at his right lung. He couldn't move his legs; arm movement reduced to slight spasms. Couldn't fully move.
The blackness appeared, moving closer and closer. The breathing techniques, the hyperventilation wasn't working. He couldn't do it. He could hear whispering, hear a voice that wasn't his own.
...realm of existence...
Captain Marcus A. Florence, United Nations Space Command, Department of the Navy.
...cannot even fathom…
Commanding Officer of the United Nations Space Command Legend After
...The cycle…
….I am...
Captain Marcus A. Florence, United Nations Space Command, Department of the Navy
Sov-
Priority...Get this fucking Spartan off me.
But the best he could do was spasm and twitch, bob his head back and forth. And the black vision...nearly there…
Tom was up, provided cover fire as the two of them fell back.
Mark couldn't move.
Couldn't breath.
The gunfire became muffled.
This exchange is over.
…
"Standby! We're coming in hot!" The pilot announced on the squad comms.
The Master Chief cocked the assault rifle and turned towards the cargo doors. Fireteam Majestic and a detachment of Lieutenant Dubbo's ODSTs were right behind him. The black, grey, orange, and blue helmet visors shimmered in dark red light.
And Dubbo was in front of them, ready to lead the assault. He was the highest ranking officer aboard.
The Chief didn't think anything beyond that. There was no need for it. There was no word from the ship, so there was no telling what was in there. Be prepared for any type of hostile contact-
Don't let her go.
-Close quarter combat. Cramped and personnel. Have a shotgun ready. Most likely Cerberus won't engage, and with ONI there was no telling. Cerberus-
Don't ever let her go.
She used you.
They used you.
-Had….looked heavily armored, but UNSC weapons could tear through them like paper. Some had light shielding and others had riot shields that were actually pretty useful against lead bullets. Some were technician soldiers-
"Get tactical, Marines!"
It was his voice this time...A voice that has been silent for five years real time but only around a month for the Master Chief.
The Master Chief saw heavy green armor and an eight-point cover. A black mustache and a lit cigar. He held a battle rifle in one hand, took out the cigar in his mouth with the other.
"Rioght, mates! Lethal force authorized only when things get lethal! Let's motivate!" Dubbo said.
He was gone, replaced by a thin-bodied Lieutenant Dubbo in the scarred ODST helmet.
"...Chief, you're doing a'right, rioght?" Dubbo asked.
John wasn't going to respond, but he wasn't even given the chance. He felt a sudden sharp pull towards the cockpit of the Pelican.
They were in the hangar, and the pilot banked left, twisted the Pelican and dropped altitude quickly. The Chief felt the thud as the dropship hit the hangar floor and skidded across the metal. A loud, heavy entrance.
The screeching continued, stopped with a slight jolt as the Pelican positioned itself. The cargo doors opened.
The hanger was covered with the bodies of Cerberus and ONI soldiers. Lead bullet casings littered the floor. A few pod-like transports with Cerberus colors embedded themselves within the hangar walls.
And about twenty yards away stood two heavily armed figures. Spartans. Not the IVs behind him, but the originals created during the War. IIIs. And they were dragging an unconscious Captain Florence. Leng was on the floor, unmoving, hopefully unconscious as a small pool of blood formed around his head.
Dubbo ran out, weapon aimed, "stand down now! You are to stand down immediately! That is an order!"
The Spartans didn't move...
They were hesitating.. And from a slight jolt that ran across one of the Spartan's body, the Chief tell he was about to assume a attack poster
The Master Chief sprinted out, aimed his body right at the Spartan.
"Chief! Wait! What da hell are ya doing?!" Dubbo called out
The Chief saw the conflict in the other Spartan's mind. He could imagine the flow of thoughts exactly as if they were his own.
Because they were. They were trained, they were taught, they were breed, were chosen, to be the soldiers Humanity needed them to be.
Not what you wanted to be…
Exactly like him.
The other Spartan raised his weapon without hesitation. He luckily aimed it at the Chief, the closing threat. He pulled the trigger. Bullets were deflected by the Chief's MJOLNIR shields.
The Master Chief threw his assault rifle away and the other Spartan saw what this was about to become.
The Chief threw his body and tackled the other Spartan mid-body. Both were flung forward. The other Spartan hit the metal floor. Hard. The Chief tucked and rolled, ended up in a kneeling position about a meter away. John immediately turned and saw a fist racing right at his head.
The Chief blocked it with his right hand and tried to left hook him only to be blocked. In response John grabbed his right hand, pulled the other Spartan closer and headbutted him.
The other Spartan, Tom the IFF tag identified him, was thrown off guard for a split second. The Chief let go of his hand and right hooked Tom's helmet.
Tom stuttered to the left side. Dazed. The Master Chief took another chance. A left punch this time and Tom stuttered to the right.
Tom was a III. So at most he was in his mid twenties. And despite the advanced training and conditioning and the overall youth, the Master Chief was faster. Even in his fifties.
Tom quickly recovered. A small crack appeared in the corner of his helmet.
Tom threw a lower punch to the stomach. The Chief wasn't able to block it in time. He felt the heavy blow, compressing, a small kick in his lungs.
But this left Tom vulnerable on the left side. The Chief hit him repeatedly. After a couple seconds, a few punches, Tom was able to block the blows. Hepulled the Chief forward and elbowed his helmet.
For a brief second John's vision went blurry. Once it cleared up there was another blow to the head. He stumbled, raised his hand and was able to block another incoming punch.
John briefly looked past Tom. Saw the Spartan dragging Florence, Lucy, surrounded and detained by Fireteam Majestic. She struggled, but not even a Spartan could take on a multitude of her inferior peers.
Her grip was forced off of Captain Florence. He merely fell to the floor, unconscious. His body looked worse for wear to say the least.
The Chief turned back to Tom when he tried to uppercut him. John dodged it and stepped back. He noticed Tom was losing balance, losing coordination as he tried to fight on.
The Chief, in a series of constant dodged swings and misses, landed a right hook. Tom was thrown off, and the Chief grabbed him by the chest plate and pushed him onto the metal floor.
The Spartan-II got on top of him, punch after punch landed as his defenses fell.
Could you sacrifice me to complete your mission?
He continued to beat Tom down. He saw the glass of his visor crack in multiple places.
Someone yelled something. He didn't hear what it was.
Another hit. A small piece of the first layer glass of the visor flew off.
More yelling. More sounds. Something grabbed his right arm as he was about to land another hit but he shook it off.
Could you watch me die?
The sounds were soon drowned out by cracking glass and the tiny dents on his knuckle armor.
Tom wasn't moving anymore. He was still alive, a slowed heart rate indicated by the IFF tag.
A dark blue and black blurry aurora formed around the Chief's armor. The same aura that surrounded the squid banshee on the garden planet. His shields depleted. The emergency warning sounded off. The power depleted. It became hard to move, hard to breath.
He tried to stand up, forcing his body as if it were on a high gravitational world. He stumbled at first, but then was able to get on his feet. The blue aurora tightened its grip in response. It nearly stopped him.
Nearly.
The Chief saw the xeno, Liara, with a ball of the same energy in her hands. She was struggling to maintain it. Heavy breathing, arms stretched out, fighting against an invisible force.
"I think you might've kicked his ass, mate." Dubbo said, standing near Tom. He kicked him and noticed he was still breathing. "You can let him go. He knew what he was doing. I told ya."
The Chief noticed Shepard right next to him. He was aiming a rifle directly at him, and his armor was covered with a hard-light orange shield
"He nearly beat a man to death! He was already down!" Shepard replied, still aiming through the scopes right at the Spartan.
"He'll be fine." The Chief replied in a calm, reasonable voice. "If I didn't incapacitate him he would've continued to fight. Look at the other Spartan."
Shepard quickly looked at Lucy. Five Spartan-IVs had to hold her down. Each had a limb, trying to drag a nearly one ton super soldier. They didn't make much progress as she continued to struggle at every inch.
"I knew what I was doing," the Chief said.
Shepard took a moment to lower his rifle. He did it slowly and deliberately. The aurora faded and Liara dropped her arms. The ball of energy in her hands dissipated. She panted and looked like she was about to faint. She began to cough between breaths as sweat dripped down the cuts on her face.
The Chief turned to Shepard. The Commander didn't say anything. He made some face of understanding maybe. He wasn't sure.
The Spartan simply nodded and walked past the Commander towards the Pelican. Shepard said something but the Chief didn't hear it. He wasn't part of the UNSC chain of command so it didn't matter.
Corpsmen rushed by to help Captain Florence and Lieutenant Leng. John saw the other Cerberus soldiers stand down, letting UNSC Marines come one by one to confiscate their weapons. A corpsmen looked over a downed ONI agent and shone a light into his eyes. The agent moved a little, rubbed his face with one hand and groaned.
"Attention, all hands, stand down immediately. The situation has been resolved. All ONI personnel aboard report to hangars five through eight ASAP to be detained. All Cerberus soldiers aboard will report to hangars one through four or face deadly force," the ship comms relayed.
More Marines from Pelicans were dropped off. Of course a few stopped and gazed at the Spartan as he made his way by to a readied Pelican.
He stopped dead in his tracks. Didn't move… struggling as if Liara was still possessing him with that blue aurora of energy.
He was going to stop. He would've stopped. He didn't need intervention from Commander Shepard.
He didn't.