A somewhat contrived meeting, but now we get to the 'point' of much of the last several chapters. Hopefully I did a decent job capturing the voice of various characters (especially Spark). Plus, strange things are afoot at High Charity.
Standard copyright disclaimer: I do not own Halo or any associated media, characters, or settings which are properties of 343 or Bungie. This is a work of fanfiction written purely for entertainment and not for monetary gain.
1700, 23 August 2550
Iota Horologii, Surface of Unknown Forerunner Installation, Interior of Control Center Installation
Chac Lon instinctively jerked away from the strange blue wall that materialized in front of him. As the gold-armored sangheili on the other side roared angrily and stabbed his energy sword at the barrier, Chac Lon jerked back again for a moment, then composed himself and hissed a curse back. The sangheili's eyes widened for a moment, before it spat back.
"Honorless coward! This trickery will not protect you and your traitors for long. If you have any honor you will stand and fight!"
"No." Chac Lon responded, as he backed away, rifle trained on the sangheili's head through the barrier. "Why would I let you stab me when I could just put a hole through your head?"
"I hope the humans paid you well for this, vermin."
"Not as well as you'd think. But I know a few things you four-jaws don't." The gold-armored sangheili jerked back, and for a moment Chac Lon thought he'd gotten into its head. Then he heard heavy footsteps behind him; turning around he saw all three of the Spartans, weapons aimed at the growing cluster of sangheili on the other side of the barrier.
"Pillars. Cover." Chac Lon whispered to the other kig-yar. When that barrier went down the shooting would start, and he knew not to be standing in the open when that happened. At least the Spartans could rely on their shields and armor to give them time to get to safety.
"All of you! Cease! Immediately! To have you children fighting on my installation is bad enough, but I will certainly not allow it here!"
Reflexively, everyone turned to look at the source of the new voice. Hovering near the ceiling was a glowing blue orb, encased in a silver metallic shell. It glided through the barrier without noticing, as the sangheili stared, shocked. "An oracle, here? The Great Journey must be close at hand!" One of them whispered, as the leading gold-armored sangheili fell to his knees.
"Holy oracle, forgive us. I – I had not dared to hope I would find an oracle here."
"Hmmmm." The floating orb seemed uninterested. "I am 343 Guilty Spark, the Monitor of Installation 04. My primary protocol is the protection of this installation and ensuring its prompt readiness to activate should circumstances require. Something that your faction's conflict with these Reclaimers has put in jeopardy."
At the mention of "Reclaimers" the sangheili confusedly began to whisper amongst themselves. What could the "oracle" mean by this?
Shaon Tol was much happier. "I was right, I knew I was right!" She excitedly chirped to Chac Lon.
"Thank the gods you are. Now let's see how the four-jaws handle it. " He replied. Hopefully 343 Guilty Spark, whatever he was, would keep the sangheili from shooting his kig-yar (and the humans).
The gold-armored sangheili was about to ask a question when one of the Marines yelled from the back; "Hey light bulb, speak English! Not all of us can speak alien!"
"Shut it, private! Turn on the translator on your damn helmet!" Sergeant Johnson sharply grabbed the Marine's shoulder, clearly signaling him to stop talking. Chac Lon heard one of the sangheili growl "insolent human!" as it raised its plasma rifle. Thankfully, the barrier was still in place.
"Very well." 343 Guilty Spark sounded slightly annoyed, but the Monitor continued. "As I was saying, I am 343 Guilty Spark, the Monitor of Installation 04. My primary purpose is to ensure the safety of this installation, and ongoing combat near the control room of the installation is very much inimical to that goal."
"You gonna keep those assholes in line?" Johnson gestured toward the Covenant forces. "Us and them don't exactly have the best history."
"Initiation of hostilities by either side will be dealt with promptly." 343 Guilty Spark responded, as several sentinels arrived. The Monitor turned to face the sangheili. "Given your present situation, and lack of transport off this installation, aggravating me would be especially ill advised for you."
Johnson looked toward Spartan-117, who glanced briefly at the other Spartans, before nodding. "Alright Marines, hold your fire. Let's hear what this thing has to say, I get the feeling we shouldn't piss him off." The Marines, and kig-yar, warily lowered their weapons, though Chac Lon and many others kept their fingers near the trigger.
The leader of the sangheili looked like he'd swallowed a dozen lemons, but after a harsh glance from the Monitor he lowered his weapon as well. "Do what the oracle commands. We have no choice."
Slowly, the rest of his troops, including the unggoy, did the same. Still, the shield stayed up for the moment. Evidently the Monitor was being cautious. Still, he was confident enough to turn his back on the sangheili as he hovered over to the humans, positioning himself in front of the Spartans.
"At last, Reclaimers, here! Most unexpected, but most fortuitous! Tell me, what brings you here? There are currently no uncontained outbreaks on this installation, and I have not recorded that you have accessed the index, so it must be for some different reason. Do you have news from the other installations? It has been many thousands of cycles since I have heard news from any of them, and I am starting to experience concern." He paused. "Also, to be blunt, I am starting to experience boredom. There is only so much for my processing power to do after I have automated most of this installation's maintenance functions, and I am not certain my makers intended for me to be around this long."
The humans stared at each other, confused. Sergeant Johnson looked toward Shaon Tol and Chac Lon, clearly hoping they had a better idea what the Monitor was talking about. Chac Lon had no idea, he glanced at Shaon Tol, who had a confused look on her face. He looked back to Johnson apologetically; this was far beyond anything he'd ever seen before. Forerunner constructs were known to be unreliable (likely due to how long it had been since they were created), but Chac Lon didn't want to say that out loud right now.
Spartan-117 was the first to speak. "Slow down. Outbreak? Other installations? Do you mean to say that this ring is some sort of planet-sized biohazard lab? And there are more of them?"
"You do not know? But... you..." 343 Guilty Spark momentarily halted, seemingly confused that the Spartan did not immediately understand what he was talking about. "You must understand, surely. How could Reclaimers not know the purpose of this installation?"
"Foolish humans! Even after all these years they still do not realize that this Ring is the key to the Great Journey!" A red-armored sangheili yelled from the other side of the barrier, laughing.
"It would be greatly appreciated if you did not continue to muddle the conversation with your kind's flawed terminology! I have read of your so-called "Great Journey" and your understanding is crude and ill-formed at best!" The Monitor raised his voice, as his central light briefly flashed a darker color. A few unggoy panicked at the display, and even the sangheili seemed to shrink back momentarily.
Meanwhile, the humans muttered amongst themselves. Then, 117 turned and pointed at Chac Lon. "You, kig-yar? Do you know the purpose of this place?"
"No?" Chac Lon was momentarily confused at the Spartan's question. He'd already told them that!
The Spartan waved to 343 Guilty Spark, then pointed at Chac Lon. "Alright, explain it to him."
"Gladly!" The Monitor's mood brightened instantly. "But first-" With surprising quickness, the 343 Guilty Spark flew over to Chac Lon. Before the T'vaoan could react, the Monitor emitted a small blue beam that hit Chac Lon's arm like an electric shock. For a second, Chac Lon felt his arm burning; then the monitor stopped and flew back to his previous position.
"My apologies. But your subspecies' genetic information was not in my archives, and I remembered that my protocols dictate that I catalog all sapient species which visit this installation."
"Oceans and skies, you could have warned me. Get started with explaining this shit."
"Of course! What would you like to know?"
There were easily a thousand questions Chac Lon could have asked. About Forerunner technology about the kig-yar, about the Reclaimers. But he decided to keep it simple.
"This installation, what is it? Did the Forerunners build it? What is its purpose?"
"My installation, Installation 04, is one-seventh of the overall Halo Array, a set of installations created by the Forerunners for the purpose of containing the parasitic organism known as the Flood. A secondary purpose of these installations is for research and as ecological reserves."
"Is this 'Flood' the outbreak you mentioned earlier?" Chac Lon asked.
"Yes." The Monitor replied.
Well, at least he had said that there weren't any active outbreaks. Building a thousands of kilometer wide ring just to control some sort of disease seemed odd, but then again none of them truly had anything approaching an understanding of Forerunner technology.
"Are you a Forerunner? Or, really, are you the mind of a Forerunner placed inside that shell?"
"Regrettably, the specific details of my construction are unknown to me; this information was removed from my memory banks shortly after my creation, presumably for security reasons. I can tell you that I am an artificial construct created by the Forerunners for the express purpose of monitoring this installation."
"So I'm guessing you don't know if there are any Forerunners left?"
"No, I do not. That information was also removed from my memory, and I have not had contact with them or any other sapient species between my activation and the arrival of this 'Covenant' on my installation."
Chac Lon knew Shaon Tol was disappointed with that answer, even though he couldn't see her. One of her greatest goals, the one that would cap her life's work, was to find a living Forerunner. (Naturally, she'd only told Chac Lon and a few others; speculating about the existence of living Forerunners was considered very heretical by most sects of the Covenant.)
Now it was time to ask the real question. "You said you were able to access the Covenant ships' computers. Could you project the glyph for 'reclamation'?"
"Certainly." Guilty Spark projected a hologram of the symbol midair. There were a few murmurs from sangheili who recognized the symbol, and he heard a soft chirp from Shaon Tol. She clearly knew what his next question was.
"And now, could you show me the glyph for 'Reclaimer', and identify any of them present in the room with us?"
"Happily! There are no less than twenty-one Reclaimers present here!" 343 Guilty Spark projected the symbol for Reclaimer above each of the humans present, drawing a few gasps of surprise from the Marines.
The sangheili took it even worse. "Impossible! This is heresy, the kig-yar spreads lies!" A white-armored sangheili yelled as he unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Chac Lon.
"Do I? Or will you put out my eyes just because I see better than you? Think, sangheili! Who will you believe, an oracle, or the decrepit, cowardly prophets who use you as tools?" Chac Lon hissed back, as he instinctively shouldered his rifle.
"Silence, heretic!" Another sangheili yelled back, and the situation quickly devolved into shouting. As he stood there, Chac Lon noticed that the gold-armored leader of the sangheili was silent, seemingly deep in thought. For a few moments, he gritted his teeth, then held up his hand, signaling to the other sangheili on his side of the barrier. Immediately, they quieted down.
"Oracle, if I may ask a few questions of my own?"
"Certainly. I can tell that you are... unsettled by what I have revealed." The Monitor responded.
That much was obvious to Chac Lon from the look in the gold-armored sangheili's eyes. The rest of the Covenant behind him waited with bated breath for the leader to ask his questions.
"The Forerunners, your creators. What is the true reason that they built this ring?" The sangheili sounded resigned, as if he knew he would not like the Monitor's answer.
"Roughly one hundred thousand cycles ago, the Forerunners were engaged in a war against the Flood, a parasitic life form capable of infecting and assimilating any life form with a sufficiently complex nervous system. Seven installations, including this one, were created as weapons of last resort against the Flood. Each installation, when activated, would eliminate any potential Flood hosts within its area of effect, thereby rendering the parasite harmless."
"And the Forerunners, were they forced to use this weapon?"
"Yes. After exhausting every strategic option, my creators activated the Halo Array. They and all other sentient life within three radii of the galactic center died, as planned."
"No..." The sangheili whispered, dumbstruck. "Impossible... this cannot be." Another said behind him.
"Wait, how is that possible? It can't be that everyone in the galaxy was killed one hundred thousand years ago! There are bones of kig-yar on Eayn dating back at least six times that long!" Shaon Tol exclaimed.
"Simple." 343 Guilty Spark had anticipated this objection. "Prior to the activation of the Array, Forerunner Lifeworkers indexed many sapient species within the galaxy. After the activation of the Array and the elimination of the Flood threat, the sampled species were reintroduced to their home planets, and placed at a baseline technological level. This does imply that at least a small population of my creators survived the activation of the Array..." The Monitor trailed off for a moment, before turning to face the sangheili. "The reintroduction of the indexed species was done using ships such as these, known as 'Keyships'." An image of a Forerunner ship, resembling a narrow tetrahedron with three legs, was projected in front of the sangheili. "After perusing your Covenant's historical records stored on your vessels, I assume this is familiar to you?"
"The Dreadnought." The gold-armored sangheili said as he reverently gazed at the projection. "Oracle, I wish to believe you speak the truth. But this means the Great Journey, the Prophets, all of it..."
"Is this why the jiralhanae betrayed us? Did they know we would find this Oracle here?" One of the white-armored sangheili yelled, clearly upset.
"The jiralhanae, brutish as they are, would not have gone so far as they did without a reason. Someone must have known what we would find here, and desired our elimination. To kill dozens of sangheili, and destroy one of our own ships – that order could only come from the highest levels." The commander of the sangheili paused, before continuing. "I felt before this mission that something was amiss. I should have known."
"What you should have done before with what you could not have known does not matter. What matters is what we do now." The white-armored sangheili spoke again; Chac Lon guessed he was likely the second in command.
"Our first priority needs to be defending this location and ensuring the brutes don't gain access to this facility. Anything beyond that is a secondary concern." Spartan-117 interjected, interrupting the sangheili conversation. They stopped talking, but if they were surprised that a human could understand them, they hid it well.
"Green man has the right idea." Sergeant Johnson added. "If the brutes tried to kill you all over this place, they'll try again. Lightbulb, can you have your robots help out?"
"That is not my name, and I cannot have my Sentinels provide significant assistance." 343 Guilty Spark responded. "Having them assist the sangheili getting here was already stretching protocol enough as it was, and I justified that as necessary to present the conflict between your factions from damaging my installation. I can prevent access to this immediate area, but I cannot spare more Sentinels beyond that."
"Well, then I guess us and you elites are going to have to work together. I know we damn well don't like each other, but we both don't like brutes. Besides, humans and Covenant have learned to get along before." Johnson said, gesturing toward Chac Lon.
It was not exactly the same situation. Chac Lon and his kig-yar had come to the UNSC of their own accord, while this group of sangheili was caught between a group of jiralhanae and three Demons (not to mention the implied threat from the Monitor who seemed to care mostly about the integrity of 'his' installation.) And the gold-armored sangheili doubtless had an order of magnitude more faith in the Great Journey than Chac Lon ever did. But then again, both had ended up coming to the humans after finding something from the Forerunners that contradicted the Covenant's religion. (Being straight up told you were wrong by one of the Forerunners' intelligent creations was a bit harsher than finding a star chart, though.)
Working with sangheili would be a new experience; they and pirates like Chac Lon never got on well. At best they'd make a temporary agreement not to stab each other in the back, and if they were lucky both parties would keep to it. But, if the UNSC decided it, Chac Lon wasn't in a position to refuse at the moment. And if it cracked the Covenant apart, it would help with some of the vaguely formed plans Chac Lon had swimming around in the back of his mind.
Besides, at least they weren't jiralhanae.
23 August 2550
Near High Council Chambers, Covenant Holy City of High Charity
Rtas 'Vadumee was pacing, and he was worried. Since the assassination of the Prophet of Regret barely one daily cycle ago, the already tense situation between the sangheili and jiralhanae had only gotten worse. Already, there had been reports of sporadic fighting between units of the two species in the upper districts; the commanders were barely keeping a lid on it. Rtas knew that the sangheili were outnumbered in the city; several generals were already concentrating their forces in more defensible towers and sections in the upper districts. It looked like the jiralhanae were also concentrating their forces in response.
This left the lower districts scoured of sangheili or jiralhanae forces, and the situation there was deteriorating as well. The unggoy were getting restless, while gangs of kig-yar took the chance to settle scores with each other or the unggoy. A few kig-yar had even been so bold as to take potshots at Covenant officers! They were swiftly dealt with, but Rtas knew they could not keep watch over the lower districts and prepare for whatever the jiralhanae were doing.
The silence from the two remaining Hierarchs was truly worrying.
'Vadumee was fulfilling the task Thel 'Vadamee had assigned him before leaving on his holy mission; Rtas (with the help of six of his most trusted Special Operations sangheili) had ushered about fifty of the sangheili High Councilors into a tower near the high council chambers, planning to keep them safe until the unrest passed. At least, that was his original plan. As the situation outside only seemed to be worsening, Rtas started to wonder whether he would have to take more drastic action. Out the windows he could now see flashes of plasma fire in the distance, fortunately too far away to hear.
'Vadumee turned toward one of his subordinates, a young sangheili by the name of Thalo 'Malokee. "Brother, I have a task for you. I need you to... discreetly... ascertain what sangheili controlled vessels are docked in nearby sections of High Charity. Slipspace capable, and with the capacity to hold a hundred or more." 'Vadumee said, softly enough not to be heard by anyone in the background.
"As you say, commander." 'Malokee whispered and nodded in assent, then jogged over to a nearby terminal. As he began to manipulate it, there was a sudden commotion among the councilors. "Silence! The Hierarch speaks!" The entire room immediately quieted as everyone, 'Vadumee included, turned to a projector displaying a hologram of the Prophet of Truth.
"... but this was not the first failing of the sangheili. The failure of their commanders to eliminate the humans, or traitors within our midst, have been numerous. Still, I chose to be magnanimous, until yesterday. The cowardly assassination of the Prophet of Regret is a sin that cannot go unpunished! From this day forward, the jiralhanae, not the sangheili, shall have the place of honor within our holy Covenant! Let it be known that any who resist this change out of their own misplaced pride shall..."
The rest of Truth's speech was drowned out as the councilors began shouting back and forth.
"This is an outrage! How can he say this? The sangheili have served the Covenant loyally for more than three thousand cycles, only to be replaced by some upstarts who have not even spent a lifetime in the Covenant? Even the unggoy have more claim!"
"Does he truly seek to dissolve the Writ of Union? How could Mercy have agreed to this?"
Rtas was about to interject when he saw movement outside the window. A Lich dropship slid into view, several hundred meters away from the tower housing Rtas and the councilors. It slowly drew closer, and turned to face them. Something in the back of his mind screamed danger, and 'Vadumee shouted out a warning. Just as he and the rest of his special operations sangheili dove behind cover, a green glow appeared on the front of the Lich.
Most of the councilors did not hear 'Vadumee's warning, and there was nothing those near the window could have done. The Lich fired directly into the window, hitting the assembled High Councilors and killing half of them immediately. Many of the rest were injured as the superheated plasma overpowered even their incredibly powerful shields. At the far end of the room, and sheltered from the worst of the blast, 'Vadumee and his warriors fared better. All but one of them survived; 'Vadumee himself had his armor singed but was still easily capable of standing and fighting.
Seemingly satisfied with what it had done, the Lich flew off to somewhere else.
"Warriors, to me!" 'Vadumee shouted as the Lich departed. "Who among you can stand and hold a sword?" Left unsaid was the implication; if the (presumably) jiralhanae were willing to attack the High Council, they would surely send someone to finish the job. Sure enough, not even two minutes later 'Vadumee could hear growling in jiralhanae outside the door to the chambers. Thank the gods the plasma from the Lich had fried the controls and fused part of the mechanism.
They would have to find another way out of this place. Luckily, the centuries-old buildings in this part of High Charity were honeycombed with small passages; ventilation shafts, small doors used by the unggoy who did menial labor, and secret passages built for illicit purposes by sangheili and san'shyuum over the years. Sure enough, 'Vadumee found a small passage out of the room, barely tall enough for an unggoy to walk through. It would be a tight squeeze for the sangheili, but the jiralhanae were even larger.
As 'Vadumee began to squeeze himself into the small hole, 'Malokee asked him; "Commander, what of the wounded councilors? It will not be easy for them to contort themselves into such as small passage."
"Leave us." One of the councilors replied, before 'Vadumee could speak. The wounded councilor propped himself against the wall, as he drew his energy sword. "None of you are surgeons, and we would only burden you as you move through the city. We will die an honorable death and take as many of them with us as we can."
"We will not forget your sacrifice, noble councilor." 'Vadumee respectfully paused a moment. Then, he, his troops, and thirteen councilors followed him into the maintenance corridor. Thankfully, there were no signs the jiralhanae followed them, and after many minutes they had encountered nobody else.
When they made it to a disused garden that looked like it had not been tended in several years, 'Vadumee motioned for the group to pause. "Thalo, I trust that you have found some vessels that we could use to depart High Charity?" His first option was to link up with a larger body of sangheili forces on the station, but he knew he had to consider the worst.
"I have, commander. But, the Spires of Gifting are far away, and there are already reports of ships in the defense fleet firing upon each other."
'Vadumee cringed. That was truly a worrisome development. If cohesion even within the fleet was breaking down, then simply boarding a combat vessel might not keep them safe.
"As you say, it will be some time before we could make it to the docks. But if we cannot mount a defense here, we will need a way out. Keep looking. Even for less conventional means of transport."