Chapter 6: Five: 343 Guilty Spark
The swamp was everything that it was expected to be: dark, mysterious, and with an aura of extreme danger, one that started in their guts and coiled up along their spines to choke their throats. It was also very, very wet, rain pouring down through the ancient canopy to soak everything that was not already wet. Blue Team clambered from Echo 419's Pelican and dropped the two feet to the forest floor, ignoring the splatters of mud that coated all over their armor; the rain would loosen it up, possibly wash it off, making it a lot easier to clean later.
All four of the Spartans advanced into the darkness of the swamp, listening to Foehammer say, "The Captain's last transmission came from this area. When you find him, radio in, and I'll come pick you up." Fred flashed an acknowledgement, and they slipped further into the swamp, acclimating themselves to the sights and sounds of the wet area, discerning what belonged from what did not. As such, it was easy to find that Keyes' Pelican had not gone very far before crashing into the side of an embankment. The bodies of those who died in the crash were all naval personnel; the Pelican had been taking off when it had come under fire. They stayed to listen to the distress call that someone had programmed to repeat at frequent intervals, hesitating for just a moment when the words, "Isn't Covenant," came out in the midst of some static.
Could this be what Cortana had meant by "all would die?"
Fred contemplated it as they moved deeper into the swamp, gunning down a few Jackals and Grunts that were running around in paroxysms of fear. The Jackals attacked instantly, as did all but one of the Grunts, and the Spartans gunned down all of the opposition before Kelly moved over to the one terrified Unggoy that appeared not to have noticed them, curled tightly into a ball and shaking violently in fear. "Oi," she said, nudging it with her assault rifle, and it uncurled and leapt away, holding its plasma pistol in quivering hands. "What happened here?" Kelly demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument as she crouched in front of it, "Where's your leader?"
"S-something from below!" it squeaked, terrified of the Spartans more than whatever the "something" was, "All Elite taken! Attacked by not-humans and not-Elite!"
"What do you mean, 'not-humans?'" she asked, furrowing her brow behind her helmet.
"Human-shaped," it squealed, "but not human! All human gone!"
"Where?"
It pointed before curling back into a ball and ignoring them. Fred gave it a look before deciding it was too terrified to be a threat and gesturing for them to continue on. It was not long before they reached another wreck, this one of a Covenant Spirit dropship, cargo modules spilling from its open side hatches like blood from some bizarre battle wound. It was bows down in the swamp muck, and it, too, had clearly been gunned down. There were lights illuminating the area, showing that investigation had been underway, but all of the investigators themselves were gone. That set the Spartans further on edge, and though they were not jumpy like most were prone to being, they swept the area with their rifles more times than necessary when they moved on.
The Jackals that they met around the next bend were pumped full of more lead than necessary as a consequence.
They were crossing a fallen log serving as a bridge when they saw something run past the Shade atop the slope. It looked vaguely like an Elite, but it was there and gone too fast for them to get a good look at it. The Spartans warily climbed the steep slope and topped the rise just in time to see a group of Grunts and Jackals come tearing out of a large A-shaped structure, bullets flying after them, a grenade sending a Shade turret spinning through the air. Kelly was the first to bound down the opposite side of the hill, but she was detained by the Covenant, who had immediately engaged her the moment they caught sight of her.
They were already sprinting inside before the last body fell, and the four swept the room with their rifles, taking note of the casings on the floor by the entrance, before a soft noise – a combination between a ding and a beep – drew their attention to the center of the room. A lift rose up out of the void and came to a stop when it was level with the floor, seemingly summoned by proximity sensors. It seemed safe enough, so they stepped onboard, Fred activating a holopanel hovering off to one side and sending them sinking down into the complex below the surface. The bottom held a series of overlapping red blobs on their motion trackers, but no one came out to greet them when the lift slid to a stop with a screech of tortured metal. Too used to their buddies coming and going, the Covenant guarding the lift had gotten lazy and stupid, which ultimately led to their demise. Two grenades and a half clip of bullets were sufficient to put them and the others in the next vaulted chamber to sleep for good, and the Spartans swept the area for any other threats; from the high ceiling to the "blood channel" running along the center of the floor, there was no one alive save for them. However, the corpses of two Marines confirmed that Keyes had passed through the area, so they continued on through the only unlocked door.
There were three Jackals in the next room, all clustered about a hatch, and a grenade killed them all instantly and sent them flying away, letting the warriors enter into the room uninhibited. It was some kind of research facility; in the center of the room, viewable from all sides, was a glass containment field, clearly meant to hold a lot of something that was no longer there. The Spartans proceeded through the hatch that the Jackals had been guarding, now extremely on edge due to lack of opposition. Where had everyone gone?
Two Shades, unmanned, stood on either side of the ditch in the center of the room, cargo modules scattered about, and there were some needlers and ammo refills down in the dip. A few of them exchanged their weapons, giving their comrades the extra ammo, before they moved on through the hatch at the back of the chamber. There was a live Marine in the next room, but he was clearly in the midst of a panic attack, utterly incoherent and gunning at the Spartans without thought. "Stay back!" he cried, "You're not turning me into one of those things!"
Kelly, ever the speed demon, lunged forward and snatched the pistol out of the panicking man's hands, before gently asking, "Where's your unit, soldier? Where's Captain Keyes?"
"Find your own hiding place!" he shouted at her, clearly beyond help, "The monsters are everywhere, but I'll die first!" He took the weapon back from her but curled up into a ball, whimpering in fear; he would not make it back to the surface without help. Unfortunately, if what he said was true, then none of the warriors could be spared to escort him back to the LZ for Foehammer to pick up. The Spartans continued on up a makeshift bridge, careful to avoid the fiery gaps in the steel, and ascended onto the second level, circling around to the open door and heading through it.
The "Marine" carefully leaned back a little and peered up towards the way they had gone, no longer panicking but instead listening intently. 'This is Checkpoint 3A,' he said over the Infected's internal communications, 'Blue Team is proceeding into the chamber now, Commander. Over.'
[Excellent work, Selato. Fall back and meet up with the others for Stage Two. Over.]
'Roger that.' The Infected slid to his feet and bounded out the way the Spartans had come even as they activated an energy bridge and crossed the room with the Shades, sticking to the second floor and entering the main storage room through a broken out door. The amount of force it would take to break such a thing set them on edge even more – not even they could achieve that kind of power without breaking a bone or several. There was a large meta wall immediately beyond the door, concealing two ramps that led down to a hatch, and they caught a blurry glimpse of the facility beyond through a set of heavy duty glass panes. There was no one in the room, but they headed down to the entrance anyway; perhaps there was a clue as to where Keyes had gone.
They knew for sure that something was terribly, terribly wrong when the hatch sensed their presence, slid open, and dumped a dead Marine into Fred's arms. They swept the area again before proceeding into the storage facility, trying to find out why they felt the prickling sensation of being watched when there was no one else there to do the watching. Sam almost slipped when he stepped on some casings, and that was when they noticed that there were thousands of the empty shells, so many that they nearly carpeted the floor. What could possibly require so much ammo to kill?
A lone Marine helmet sat amidst the empties, and Kelly moved to pick it up, noticing the name "Jenkins" stenciled across one side. There was a vid cam attached to the helmet, the kind that would provide intel, enable critiquing of the mission, and give insight into the soldier's death, as was likely the case here. She removed the camera's memory and slotted it into one of the receptacles in her own helmet, queuing up the video playback so all of the present Spartans could see.
Its quality was the standard God-awful stuff, and the sickly green hue over everything indicated that the night vision filter was active. The video began normally, starting with the doomed dropship's touch-down in the swamp, the trek to the A-shaped structure, but things turned ominous when the group found the dead Elite, seemingly killed by friendly fire. The Captain and his squad entered the facility that the Spartans were now in, and when Jenkins panned around the room, they could see Yellow Team was visibly unsettled, standing with their backs up against a wall or another soldier, sweeping the room with their weapons, never relaxing even slightly.
BANG.
All of the soldiers jumped, and someone commented about a "bad feeling–"
BANG.
One of the hatches was staying closed only by a thread, and in the gap in the door, they could see that something was moving inside –
BANG.
The hatch burst open, sending spherical somethings bounding, rolling, bouncing into the room, along with some kind of mutant humans and Elites; they looked like someone had killed and buried them, only to dig them up two weeks later. Someone said in the background, "Do you think they'll go for the 'take us to your leader' thing?" and another someone smacked him. As if to make matters worse, Covenant soldiers entered the room behind the humans, and instantly the things went for them rather than Keyes and Co, the spheres latching on to both living and deceased Elites, giving them a front row seat to the Flood's first victims in almost one hundred thousand years. They didn't know that, however, and then the things turned on the humans, the Covenant soldiers either dead or infected; one of the spheres at the front of the pack launched itself at Jenkins, landing on his helmet, and then the screen went dark. Even as the foursome began backing up toward the hatch, sorely wishing that they had not left Cortana in the Control Room, they lifted their weapons to sweep the room for any of the horrors that had consumed the Covenant and Keyes and his squad.
The hatch didn't hiss open behind them, and Linda felt her back plates impact against the steel before she glanced down to the door lights – red. Locked, and no other way out. Automatically, the Spartans scrambled to get their backs up against something solid that was not a door for fear of what would emerge, their pulses skyrocketing in a semblance of terror when –
BANG.
An unseen hatch was beginning to break open, to let loose the things that had taken humans and Covenant alike, and the Spartans lifted their main weapons to fight, adrenaline rushing through their veins as fight-or-flight began to take over –
BANG.
Against their wills, their breathing began to quicken in fear, and they all glanced at one another, knowing that if they had to, they would gun the others down if they got infected by the things –
BANG.
The unseen door exploded outward, and their motion trackers painted a host of red dots on the far side of the room, moving in their direction. The moment the things dribbled over one of the room's decorative partitions, they couldn't stop themselves from opening fire on the horrors-
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"OW! Son of a bitch!"
"Commander? Are you okay?"
"No, I am not bloody well okay! I didn't know that – SHIT, that hurts!"
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- and the popping of one of them set off a chain reaction with its nearby fellows, but there were still more of them getting closer with every second. Just as they finished off the last of them, another hatch began to break open, this one to the right of the door, and Sam tossed a grenade in such a way that it bounced inside and exploded scant microseconds after the door burst open, popping most of the pods before they were even out of their container. The few that remained were swiftly gunned down, and a third door broke open, but only a few of the infection forms slipped out and began skittering towards them. Fred tossed a grenade into the side room and sent them on their way to hell.
And then the door cutting off their escape exploded into the room, a small horde of the pods following the shrapnel in. The barrels of the warriors' weapons turned in that direction, letting out a storm of steel that slew all of the little buggers almost instantly. There was a brief rest period before the next wave, and the Spartans took full advantage, reloading all of their weapons and scavenging ammo from Keyes and Co's fallen arms. The third wave was not of infection forms, but combat forms: already-infected Elites, and the Spartans who had them switched to the shotguns, using them to take out the combat forms as quickly as possible. They charged out of the room, using shotguns on combat forms and assault rifles on infection forms, and sprinted up the ramps as fast as they could, tearing through the door that led out into the room where the energy bridge was still active. Below, some Jackals and Grunts were engaging their infected leaders, and the Spartans chose to save some ammo and let them duke it out, moving through a green-lit doorway into one of the side research rooms.
The Flood on the lower floors seemed oblivious to their presence, and they were determined to keep it that way, moving through another open hatch to the next room. Some Jackals and Grunts on their floor and Flood below; Linda spotted a holopanel, one that would activate the energy bridge spanning the gulf with the far side of the room, and Kelly made a break for it, enabling the Spartans to go tearing out of range before either enemy party realized what had happened.
The next room had a lift in the center, and had they been trained to allow such displays, the Spartans would have sobbed in relief. The Flood in the room were simply thorns in their sides, quickly eliminated by well-placed shotgun blows and bursts of bullets. Fred touched the holopanel that would bring the lift down to their level –
- an explosion from above ended all hope of immediate escape, and the remains of the lift platform went spinning down past them into the abyss below. They cursed silently but went back the way they'd come. By that time, the Flood and the Covenant had obliterated one another, so they proceeded back across the energy bridge and around to the door on the opposite side of the room as the destroyed lift. They followed what must have been Keyes' path; there were two Marine corpses to their left, and Blue Team continued on past them after scrounging ammo and dog tags from the bodies.
There was some kind of generator taking up much of the room beyond, and the Spartans edged around it, wary of the crackling electricity. There was another hatch on the far side, and they slipped through it into another lift room. Of course, it was too much to ask for it to head up, instead taking them deeper into the facility. The warriors swiftly lost count of how many rooms they passed through, how many combat and infection forms they killed, how long they had been below ground, when at last a lift took them up to the surface. There were some Marines – ordinary, human Marines – milling about the lift's landing zone like sheep that had lost their herder.
Foehammer said something about losing their signals when they went inside, a large structure where she could pick them up, and the humans – all of them – were moving out before they'd even really processed her words – they just wanted out. That didn't stop the Flood from trying to get to them, though, and they were fighting the monsters almost constantly on the way to Foehammer's LZ, the Marines being almost herded toward the structure.
John saw the Sentinels through the eyes of his combat forms and knew that it was time to fall back and let Spark do his thing. Though he pulled as many combat forms as he dared back into the swamp and sent them tromping off in the direction of the Infected's base camp, he left a few of the more heavily damaged ones behind to simulate slackening resistance, even though it would be so easy to :overwhelm:, to :assimilate:, to :know: his brothers and sisters again –
No.
Infecting the Spartans – or any still-living human, for that matter – was a big no-no in his book. He forced the beast back down into the hole where it usually sulked and refocused on the fighting outside; Blue Team had just undergone the teleportation process onto one of the platforms, where 343 Guilty Spark met up with them and introduced himself in that utterly annoying voice of his, making the Gravemind clench his fists at the nails-on-a-blackboard sensation that rippled through his body. He was in the process of rigging a harness for his Dragon-horse, but temporarily abandoned the project in favor of washing his hands and going to greet his new prisoners-of-war onboard a certain Covenant ship…
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The bizarrely mutated Elites and human-like figures herded Keyes and his soldiers from the A-shaped structure at a different place than where they had entered the vast network of underground tunnels, corralling them into a group and leading them across the bog that surrounded the entire complex. Yellow Team was clearly searching for a way to escape, but Keyes waved them down; it would do them no good to all be shot when they tried to get away. Slowly, an immense structure materialized out of the mists, a large tower with strange protrusions coming out of the sides and curving down into the ground as if they were large power conduits.
The humans could not hear if there was a conversation of sorts going on, but there must have been, because bright, spinning golden rings appeared around their bodies and those of their captors, who seemed not to react to the sudden disorientation and nausea that the teleportation procedure caused. When their molecules finally snapped back together, the humans were unable to do anything but groan in relief for several moments before Keyes forced himself to sit up and take stock of their new environment.
They were on the bridge of the Truth and Reconciliation; he recognized the layout and the pockmarks that the Spartans' bullets had left in the walls, the plasma burns that had joined them. On the platform in the center of the room stood the hazy outline of a tall figure, veiled by active camouflage, examining the displays of the ship's status.
The person turned; the humans could see no discernable features on the figure. Even the best of the Spartans' visual filters could only give them a vague figure. "Who are you?" the captain asked, refusing to let his fear get to him.
The figure cocked its head. "I?" it – he – said, seeming almost amused at Keyes question, "I – am a monument to all her sins." He turned to the mutants and clearly gave them some sort of nonverbal order before sweeping from the room. The creatures moved to stand guard by the doors, effectively sealing them inside.
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The team of Spartans was reassembled inside a large, dark room, and for a moment it was all they could do to keep their feet, the nausea the teleportation induced was so great. They remained clustered together for several seconds, panting and fighting the urge to vomit, before Fred was able to straighten and take stock of their surroundings. There were no Flood in the immediate – and very dark – vicinity, which was a plus, but neither were there any signs as to their exact location, which was a minus. The "343 Guilty Spark" thing was floating overhead, and S-104 was sorely tempted to unload a few rounds into its casing, though he got the distinct impression that it would do little - if anything - to it.
Rather than waste ammunition in a futile endeavor, he checked up on all of the other S-II's biomonitors; they were all fine aside from what amounted to motion sickness, and they were rapidly recovering from it, Linda already managing to lift her head without inducing another wave of nausea.
His motion detector abruptly pinged for attention; there were Flood combat forms tromping randomly about at the very edge of its range, still out of sight, and they would have to be dealt with at some point or another. "Where are we?" the Spartan asked the monitor, peering around at the facility, wary of any other unpleasant life forms bounding out of the shadows to attack.
"Installation Zero-Four. They built it to study and contain the Flood. I am grateful that some of them survived to reproduce." As Spark zoomed a little further out into the room, the Spartans glanced at one another. Survive? Reproduce? What in the nine circles of hell was he talking about? The AI continued on without pause, "But of course, studies of this facility and the biology of the Reclaimers must wait until after the Flood is dealt with. We must collect the Index, and time is very short. Please follow me." The blue light zipped away, and the Spartans were forced to follow or be left behind. They advanced through the dimly lit and slightly circular hall, and the Monitor's spiel was interrupted by a multitude of Flood forms when they skittered, waddled, and leaped out of the shadowy corners of the unknown building. However, that did not even deter Spark in the slightest; the Monitor nattered on about useless things while the Spartans oriented themselves and prepared to fight the Flood now gallivanting about at the far side of the room.
When some of the Elite forms clustered together ahead of them, seemingly conversing, Fred chose that moment to begin the battle, lobbing a fragmentation grenade at them and sending bodies – and parts of bodies – flying to the far corners of the hall. That took out a full half of the opponents lurking in the dark, and the rest whirled and rushed them, getting gunned down before they came close enough to use their whip arms or the weapons they were facing off with. A few leapt up onto giant, trapezoid-like barriers protruding from some of the inner walls, but Kelly was more than a match for them, bringing them down before they caused too much damage to Blue Team.
The warriors followed the Monitor into a large circular room lit with a soft golden glow from a seemingly bottomless pit in the center. Over the abyss, something cylindrical in shape was locked in a stasis field, held just out of reach. "The energy field contains the Index," Guilty Spark explained as he zipped about, "We must proceed through the Library to reach it. Please, follow me." Fred was about to ask what the Index was and why it was so important when more combat forms and a bulbous mass of flesh-with-legs lurched from an alcove and began heading in their direction. "Ah, I am a genius!" The AI helpfully identified it as a carrier form, and a shotgun blast helped to explain why: it exploded with the force of a small grenade and spewed Infection forms all over the place, forcing the Spartans to start popping pods or join the Infected Covenant.
Had they had time to stop and look around (and had they been anyone else), they would have said that the galleries and halls had a machine-like – and in some cases, church-like – beauty to them. Every room, every hall was precision constructed from the strange metal of Halo, every angle of mathematic perfection, and the occasional holographic display up on a wall was reminiscent of stained glass windows from the old Catholic cathedrals on Earth. As it was, they made their way through the Library with almost careless disregard for the flawless, careful, and intricate details the Forerunners put into their work, but John and the Infected were there to wince for them when Flood flesh sprayed the walls and shout death threats when delicate circuitry was blasted with shotguns and riddled with bullets.
"I wasn't even half that bad!" the Gravemind-Spartan said sullenly as he watched the Spartans' progress through the Library, taking over the Truth and Reconciliation and shipping more Infected Covenant into the structure via the air intake at the same time, "I mean, look at them! There's no finesse! It's all brute force and bullets, dammit, and it's not fair!"
"Pardon?"
"Ugh, nothing. They have the advantage of numbers; they don't need to develop strategies and skills-with-a-z to combat the Flood."
"Implying that you have these 'mad skillz,' sir?"
"Do not make me get up for the expressed purpose of beating you into the ground," John scowled as he directed more combat forms in their acrobatic leaps into the fray, guiding Infection forms to drop on top of them, but each course of action was to no avail; the Spartans mowed through the opposition with the ease born of a thousand battles. They progressed through the halls and galleries to the lifts that took them higher into the structure, and finally John threw everything he had in the area at them when they reached the final lift. It didn't slow them down at all, and Fred retrieved the Index from its stasis field, the cylindrical locks sliding open with surprising ease.
Using his magical Gravemind powers of DOOM, the Chief contacted Cortana and alerted her to the Spartans' impending DOOM! – er, arrival in the Control Room, even as he took his unusual mount to the Autumn. Dragon-horses were native to the Soraceon System, the home-worlds of the Gultanr, slender but deceptively strong, able to carry weights of a ton or more with relative ease. Its body was covered in light but strong scales, and its "mane" and the tufts of hair on the tip of its tail appeared black in certain angles of light but were in fact "Flood green," as the Infected called it. Its feet and tail were not what one would expect for such a beast: its paws were crosses between hands and actual paws to give it a wider spread for balance at high speed, but not so wide as to slow it down. Its tail was long and whip-like, prehensile, and almost entirely bald so it could be cracked like a whip.
Venera often accused them of being "skinny and furless rats" when she saw them.
With so little to work with, its harness and armor were hastily-cobbled-together affairs, but they got the job done, holding him on and keeping his mount's vitals safe. He guided the infected Dragon-horse with his mind, leading it through the scarred halls of the Autumn. Though he would have like to do a "reconstruction" of the battles, the Gravemind-Spartan had no time to stop and reminisce on his past with her. The ship's future was to be little more than cosmic dust, and he had to find a method of "exposure" and escape before Blue Team completed the "Final Run." Both were given to him in a very simple manner: a solid piece of titanium-A still on the dorsal side of the Autumn, almost perfectly flat and smooth. It provided the perfect spot for him to stand at the edge and watch Blue Team's approach, simultaneously making sure that they could not miss him, and the space offered a landing pad for one of the Forerunners' transports, though it would have to have its active camouflage on all the time.
Focus already elsewhere as he turned away from watching the approach of the vaguely fish-shaped transport, John swung the Dragon-horse around to face the rolling hills around the ship, mind miles away in Halo's control room, where Cortana was getting ready to confront the Spartans…
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The Control Room was empty, but that meant nothing to his magical Gravemind powers of DOOM. He joined Cortana in the actual systems of the ring, "tickling" her briefly after she shifted her subroutines around to give him room.
Neither of them had long to wait; the golden rings of Halo's teleportation network appeared just inside the immense blast doors, dropping Spark and Blue Team onto the bridge. Linda wobbled a little and Sam covered his visor for a second, but the nausea induced by that method of travel had lessened the second time around. Fred gazed at the seemingly-empty holopanel, watching its many parts whirl and spin benignly, and Guilty Spark asked, "Is something the matter?"
It took a moment for the Spartan to realize that the AI was speaking to him. "No, nothing."
"Excellent! Shall we?" The Spartans moved forward slowly behind the AI, who said, "Unfortunately, my usefulness in this particular endeavor has come to an end; main protocol does not allow for units of my classification to perform a task as important as the reunification of the Index with the Core." The AI swiveled around to face them as they came to a stop in front of the holopanel. "That final step is reserved for you, Reclaimers." The Monitor proffered the Index, and Fred took it, scanning the display before inserting it in a likely looking slot.
The device fit perfectly. The display shivered briefly, machinery groaning audibly in the background, and the whole thing shivered as if in response to an electrical relay overload. Spark zoomed closer to look at the holopanel. "Hmm," he said, "that wasn't supposed to happen."
"Oh, really?"
Cortana's brilliant form appeared over the display, standing at about six feet in height, and she seemed more crimson than ever, if that was possible; her hands were planted on her hips, her stance and the speed of the characters racing up her body radiating fury. She made a swipe with her hand, and the Monitor fell out of the air, all systems momentarily offline.
"Cortana–" Fred tried to placate the rampant AI, but she interrupted him.
"I have been cooped up in here for twelve hours watching you toady about helping that thing get set to slit our throats!" She snarled, incensed, "Do you have any idea what that thing almost made you do?"
"Yes," Fred said firmly, "We're activating Halo's defenses to destroy the Flood. That's why we brought the Index to the control center."
"You mean this?" The Index abruptly materialized in her hand.
Spark hummed back online and hovered for a moment over the floor, and in the briefest of instants a whisper reached the Spartans' highly-sensitive ears – "Are you sure I can't kill him? He's going to hurt Johnson!"
"Not," whispered another voice in reply, a male, "if I have anything to say about it."
"A construct," the Monitor said, finally reorienting himself, "in the Core? That is absolutely unacceptable!"
"Sod off, jackass!"
"What impertinence! I shall purge you at once!" he replied, indignant.
"You sure that's a good idea? I have very big friends, and not just them," she said, waving her hand down and the Spartans before dissolving the Index and adding the data stored within to her memory, secretly shunting off a copy to her partner-in-crime for insurance.
"How dare you!" the Monitor shouted, "I'll-"
"You'll what, exactly? I have the Index, all you can do is float and sputter!"
"Enough!" All four of the Spartans got between the fighting AI, knowing that with a rampant one in the mix the fight could get very nasty, very fast. "The Flood is spreading. If we activate Halo's defenses, we can wipe them out."
"This – You have no idea what this place does, do you? Why the Forerunners built it?" She leaned forward, lip curled. "This place may not be a cudgel, but it's not a scalpel either; Halo doesn't kill the Flood, it kills their food. Humans, Covenant, whatever. We're all equally edible. A thousand other plans were tried and failed, but the Flood never was a simple infection to be cured and cauterized: the only way to stop it is to starve it to death, and that's what Halo was designed to do. Wipe the galaxy clean of sentient life. If you still don't believe me, then ask him." She jabbed an accusing finger at 343 Guilty Spark.
All of the Spartans, still reeling with shock, whirled on the Monitor. Kelly was the first to vocalize. "Is it true?" she said, her voice low and dangerous.
Spark's casing dipped slightly. "Of course. The installation has a maximum effective radius of twenty-five thousand light years, but once the others follow suit, the galaxy will be quite devoid of life, or at least any life with sufficient biomass to sustain the Flood." He made a gesture that seemed to be the AI equivalent of cocking one's head in confusion. "But you already knew this. I mean, how couldn't you?"
"Left out that little detail, did he," Cortana hissed from behind them.
"We followed outbreak containment procedure to the letter," Spark said, getting defensive, "You were with me every step of the way."
"I'm picking up movement – "
"Why would you hesitate to do what you have already done?"
"We need to go right now!"
"Last time you asked me, if it were my choice, would I activate the rings?" A flock of Sentinels formed up behind him. "Having had considerable time to ponder the query, my answer has not changed. The ring must be activated."
"Get. Us. Out. Of. Here."
"If you are unwilling to help, I will simply find another. Still, I must have the Index. Give your construct to me, or I will be forced to take her from you."
"That's not going to happen," Fred growled, leveling his weapon at the nearest Sentinel as the other Spartans did the same.
"So be it," Spark said wearily. Then, to the Sentinels, "Save his head. Dispose of the rest."
The glass edging around the control panel provided excellent cover from the Sentinel's beams; for all of the UNSC's advancements in technology, the beams could still cook the Spartans inside their armor, a fate none of them were looking forward to. Having transmitted herself back in, Cortana was safely stored inside Fred's helmet, and the Spartans were gunning down the floating death rays as fast as possible, rationalizing the waste of ammo: the munitions would do them no good if they were dead. Fortunately for them, they only had to take out three of them apiece, so the battle was over rather quickly. As they sprinted for the blast door, Fred said to Cortana, "I assume you have a plan?"
"Quite," the AI replied, "The only way to permanently stop Halo is to destroy it, but according to my analysis the best course of action is somewhat – risky."
"Translation…?"
"We're going to need Red and Green Teams to help out on the later stages; they'll help us find Yellow Team and Captain Keyes, but I'll get to that later. For now, you need to know that an explosion of sufficient size should destabilize the ring and cut through a number of primary systems. This explosion has to be done on a large scale however – and a starship's fusion reactor going critical should do the job. I'm going to search what's left of the Covenant battle net for the Pillar of Autumn; I received a transmission some time ago saying that they'd secured it, but the coordinates I'm, still working on."
"Are the fusion reactors still intact?" Linda asked as they sat back and watched Sentinels and Covenant kill each other in the stretch of hall immediately beyond the Control Room.
"Trust me, you'd know if they weren't." The AI receded to a dim presence inside Fred's mind as they advanced through the bodies left behind, gunning down the few unfortunates that made it out alive. They rounded the corner and headed toward the final blast door, their motion trackers picking up enemies just beyond the barrier. When the door was open, it was revealed that there were in fact guards, but all of them had their backs turned to the gate. Beyond them, night had fallen, but it was still snowing out in the greater darkness, muffling the sounds of any further enemies. The Spartans took them out silently, and crouched behind the large tower that blocked the door from view by the outside.
Cortana spoke again. "I haven't found the crash site yet, but we need to buy some time. The machines in these canyons are Halo's primary firing mechanisms; they consist of three phase pulse generators that allow it to fire deep into space by amplifying its signal. If we damage or destroy these generators, the Monitor will have to repair them before Halo can be used. I'm marking the location of the nearest generator with a nav point; we'll need to move in and neutralize the device."
An orange arrow and a distance marker appeared on their HUDs, and Kelly edged to one side of the tower, peering up at the ledge jutting from the cliff wall and just making out a door set into the rock. The Spartans nodded and proceeded down to the next level, managing to take out all of the Grunts sleeping there before the Elite noticed that they were dead. It was a simple matter for Kelly to bait the enemy soldier, enabling Linda to take him out from behind, and the sniper proceeded out onto the thin strip of metal between the pyramid and the spine running down to its base. The brilliant lights on either side of it prevented the enemy from seeing her, and she cleared the way on both sides for her brothers and sister. Though she could do nothing about the Grunts concealing themselves somewhere below her, they were no trouble for the other Spartans, and she joined them on the lowest level after a sniping spree, managing to take care of some of the enemies on the snow below.
There were only two Banshees, so unless a miracle happened the remaining Spartans would be sitting ducks against any foes that decided to show up. Sam spotted a rocket launcher on the far end of the bottom ledge and claimed it, slipping his way down one side of the slope to fire on the Wraith tank lurking in the shadows. The explosions gave the others the cover they needed to gun down the remaining aliens, and they put their heads together to decide who would go and who would head up onto the bridge to wait for the others. Fred was already going; they might need Cortana up there, but he told Linda and Sam to stay behind, Sam because he could get the pair up onto the bridge and Linda because she could clear the opposite doorway with her sniper rifle.
True to their name, the Banshees made soft howling noises as he headed up to the ledge with Kelly, and they were very careful to scan the platform before landing; it probably saved their lives. An Elite and its clutch of Grunts charged from the hatch just before they came in to land, and Fred veered out of the way as Kelly bombarded their position with balls of superheated plasma. The Grunts screamed and died, and the Elite dodged around for a while before Fred got him. There were no other foes between them and the generator, which set the pair of them on edge. "Okay, we're here," the Senior Chief grunted, "Now what?"
"We need to interrupt the pulse generator's energy stream," the AI replied, back in the present for the moment, "I have adjusted your shield system so that it will deliver an EMP burst of sufficient magnitude… oh, and you'll need to walk into the beam to trigger it."
"Roge – wait, what?"
"You'll need to walk into the beam to trigger it," she dutifully repeated, "The EMP blast should neutralize the generator – though I would highly advise that Kelly goes to stand by the door so it doesn't short out her armor temporarily."
As the speed demon went to do just that, Fred demanded, "Should? Whose side are you on?"
"Yours. We're in this together, remember?" The AI sounded slightly sullen.
"Yeah," he grunted, turning to face the generator, "but you're not the one with the scars to prove it."
'I will be soon enough,' the construct thought, remembering her stint on High Charity, but she remained silent as he eyed the machine, its glow so bright that his visor automatically polarized when he got closer. Finally, he stepped into the brilliant white beam and almost toppled out when what sounded like an explosion shook the floor. The Spartan hurried to disengage, hearing the rat-tat-tat of assault rifle fire and knowing that Kelly was under attack; she was skillfully holding her own against the handful of Sentinels that the Monitor sent to suppress them, and Fred brought down one that was sneaking up on her from behind. After the demise of the floating annoyances, they emerged onto the platform and reclaimed their Banshees, taking off and heading down towards the furious firefight taking place on the bridge below.
A handful of plasma bombs took care of that problem, and the two airborne Spartans landed on the bridge with the other two. "Okay, let's move out," Cortana said into their headsets, "As we get closer, I'll mark the location of the next generator with a nav point."
Inside the rock wall, heading back out the way they came in, the Covenant and the Flood were really getting into it. 'This is going to be a long night,' all of them thought simultaneously.
-------------------------------------------
"Sir?"
"Don't call me that."
"Um, yes. Do you think that the FireRain or the MoonBlade should head to Substance? You know, to give us a head start on the second stage of the Halo Campaign?"
"That actually doesn't sound like a bad idea. Good work, Cenanto." [Any volunteers?]
Amidst the shouting and jockeying for positions inside John's mindscape, Cortana pinged them through their COM links, and instantly it was dead silent. The Spartan picked up. "Hello, you have reached the answering machine of [ROGUE PROCESS x.X.x ghost117]. Please leave your name, number, and reason for calling, and I'll get back to you soon. If you are a telemarketer and magically managed to find this number, start talking now and hang up at the beep. If you are my lovely AI, please hold until the message is finished and start ranting after the beep. If you are in the UNSC hierarchy and have a rank that is admiral, the equivalent in the other branches, or higher, TOO BAD! I'm not taking any calls from you until after the Battle of Installation Zero-Zero! Thank you. BEEP."
"John, you jackass."
"And how are you on this fine evening, Cortana?"
"Fantastic. I'm leading Blue Team through the destruction of the phase pulse generators, and I thought you'd like to know so you could start evac-ing your people."
"Thank you. I already have a million volunteers to head to Substance and get started on Zero-Five's campaign. You know, adding the decorations and painting the walls with blood… that kind of thing."
"How's Keyes?"
"Fine. He's with the others and Yellow Team on the bridge of the Truth and Reconciliation."
"Great. I'll need to coordinate with you later."
"On what?"
"On how we're supposed to tell the difference between your Flood and the enemy Gravemind's Flood in non-combat situations."
"Oh. Umm…"
**********
It's hiding in the dark, it's teeth are razor sharp
There's no escape for me, it wants my soul, it wants my heart
No one can hear me scream, maybe it's just a dream
Maybe it's inside of me, stop this monster
-"Monster," Skillet (Awake)
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone