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Terminus Part 1
Date: 30 June 2006, 12:01 am
(Author's Note) It's been several months since I've submitted a story. This is a revamp of a previous series that I started (but stop after the third chapter) called "Swarm." This is a completely different storyline but the same concept. Hope You enjoy.
(End Note)
The following is an excerpt from an inquest conducted by UNSC Intelligence Oversight Committee into the Office of Naval Intelligence's "skunk works" projects that accusingly do not show up on daily budget reports:
At this point things become very heated between the interviewee Dr. Joe Webber and Regional Senator Sarah Downing (Rep. American Protectorate). None of the eleven other committee members wish to intervene.
DOWNING – "If ONI Section Zero doesn't exist doctor...then why is a large portion of ONI's daily budget disappearing? Why don't the funds show up on the UNSC Security Council's (SC) budget report? Moreover, is it not true that Section Zero gets the brunt of its funds by outside and often illegal practices since the UNSC SC has been forced to make budget cuts?"
The Panel is shocked as Dr. Webber breaks into hysterical laughter.
WEBBER – "Ma'am, if you look at the budget sheet for yesterday and the day before that a large portion of the daily fifty million dollars is not missing. In fact the reports clearly show that the funds are divided up evenly between Sections One, Two, and Three.
Before Regional Senator Downing can bombard Dr. Webber with another question, Senator Akira Idemoto (Rep. Japanese Protectorate) cuts in.
IDEMOTO – "Remember now Dr. Webber you are under oath and at the mercy of this Panel. Can you tell me with one hundred percent honesty that there is no Section Zero operating under the banner of the ONI without the knowledge of this Panel or the UNSC SC?
After hearing the translation, Dr. Webber removes his earpiece, takes his eyes from Regional Senator Downing's glare, and makes eye contact with Senator Idemoto.
WEBBER– "With absolute certainty, sir."
Dated February 2550
~
A.D. 2551, 13 September, 2200 Hours / Office of Naval Intelligence Research Frigate Asilomar, orbiting planet Orion 3, Orionis system, 10 billion miles from star Rigel
Darkness had almost entirely engulfed the ship, held back only by the red emergency strobe lights that fiercely flashed into the eyes of Doctor Rebecca Haas. She pounded down the corridor, ignoring the lights that could give her an epileptic seizure, and certainly not looking back at what was pursuing her. Like that would make a difference. You couldn't see it, hear, smell it, taste it, or feel it. It was invisible, a plague of death that descended upon you without you ever knowing it. It literally came out of thin air. Like a tornado, it came without warning, impossible to trace, impossible to track. It had already taken over most of the ship, traveling through the air ducts. Even the ventilation sealing system that was used for sealing off parts of the ship that were exposed to vacuum during a ship to ship battle with the Covenant would not stop it. It was everywhere.
A loud shriek that was quickly cut off came from somewhere behind her. Haas did not look back, she kept running. There were certainly others behind her…but there was nothing she could do to help them. She had to get to Emergency COM room. It was not safety; it was one last duty, something she had to do before she met the same fate that so many others had. If she didn't then the crew of five hundred would die in vain...forgotten forever. Haas would rather die at the hands of the Covenant, not the best alternative but at least there would be some rationale in her death, dying while fighting a true enemy who threatened your civilization, not being killed by one of your own creations.
She was close. Rounding a corner, Haas saw the room ahead of her. Sweat was trickling down her face, her heart beating like a war drum. She was a scientist for God's sake not a marathon runner.
Finally reaching the pressure doors labeled: Emergency COM Beacon, Haas leapt at them. They barely opened in time for her to come sailing into the room, nearly hitting them as they parted. She scrambled to her feet, whirled around, and hit the emergency close/lock button. The pressure doors closed with a loud click and locked so they could not be manually overridden nor opened from the outside. The status light winked from green to red. The overhead light flickered on.
Wasting no time, Haas sat down at the emergency COM station, put on the headset, and tapped furiously at the keyboard. She opened a COM link to the Asilomar's AI Alexander, named after Alexander the Great. "Alex, this is Dr. Haas, are you still online?"
A hiss of static, then a distorted male voice responded, "Barely Doctor…the…it's…taking me over…code after code…not going to////****stay***/////online////****much longer," Alexander's voice was overrun with a crackling storm of static.
Haas killed the link. Alexander was useless. She tapped furiously and opened a channel to Reach. The status light on the screen-blinked green signifying the channel was open. "This is Dr. Rebecca Haas, ID number 000-221-7, Alpha Priority; we've had a Biohazard level 4 breach, Project Terminus breakout repeat Project Terminus breakout, implement quarantine procedures now!"
She hit the SEND button, the timer popped onto the screen,
Message Sent to ONI Reach HQ
Time until arrival:
Six Hours
Just great, Haas thought. She didn't relax yet; there was one more task to complete. She accessed the Asilomar's memory and navigation bank. With one strike of the ENTER button she deleted the locations of every human occupied planet, especially Reach and Earth. She then disengaged the ships engines and began the process of melting down the reactor. Suddenly, like a TV set with no cable, the screen went blank. "What the hell!" she exclaimed. A cursor flashed on the screen and a message began scrolled across it,
Clever. Clever. Clever.
Haas's eyebrows shot up.
Suddenly Alexander's voice boomed over the loudspeakers, it was distorted and deeper than normal, "Doctor, I cannot allow you to do that."
Haas balled her fists and slammed them down onto the keyboard. Little bastards have taken him over, she thought. "Fuck you!" she yelled.
"Doctor Haas, we're very disappointed in you. You deleted the NAV database…but that is okay, your AI Alexander has it stowed in his memory bank. Problem solved."
"Damn it!" Haas had forgotten about Alexander's memory. She should have yanked his data chip.
"You not safe you know, you shall end up like the rest. We cannot imagine the wealth of information in the mind of our creator."
A smell filled her nostrils. It was an acrid, metallic smell. Haas instantly knew what it was. The overhead light fluctuated and died, replaced by red emergency lights. Haas slowly turned and instinctively looked up. Her eyes widened and she let out a shrill scream. A faint black cloud was forming in front of the vent. As fast as it appeared, it disappeared.
Her nose itched; she sneezed, once, twice, three times. Haas shook her head and looked down at her arm; it was a ghostly pale. She tried to flex the muscle but it went limp, she lost all feeling in it. Goosebumps formed on her skin as a cold sensation ran down her spine, like cold liquid being poured down her back. A sharp pain rapidly filled her head. It was like a bad migraine headache. The pain grew so intense she tried to scream, but nothing came out. Her vocals couldn't form any sound. Instead, blood came streaming out. Haas started coughing, lightly at first but it grew harder and intense. She made a terrible squelching sound that turned to hacking. Haas's entire body ceased and she fell out of the chair onto all fours. She coughed up bloody tissue that hung out of her mouth and plopped onto the floor. By now, blood was gushing out of her eyes, nose, ears, and mouth. Her body stiffened and she fell onto her back.
A primal look formed on her face. It was a dark look, full of anger and aggression. She stood up, dug into her lab coat pocket, and pulled out a pen. Clicking it open, she smiled belligerently and jabbed it into her neck. An arterial jet sprayed out of the wound and onto the computer screen. Her body tensed and collapsed onto the ground.
As her body lay bleeding to death, a black cloud came out of her nose and mouth, and hovered over her. It moved in a deliberate manner. As if, it had a will of its own. Like a marionette it moved with controlled purpose. The dark cloud floated up to the vent and faded into nothingness as if it were never there.
Haas, still alive, and feeling the last of her life fade away, remembered the phrase that had described her last actions…the last actions of her creation.
Clever. Clever. Clever.
0630 Hours, 13 September, six ½ hours later / Epsilon Eridani system, Planet Reach, ONI Military complex
Dr. Joe Webber sat at the far end of the large conference table, listening to the sound recording for what seemed like the billionth time.
"Implement quarantine procedures no—"
Someone snapped their fingers and the message stopped instantly. Colonel James Ackerson lowered his hand.
The three other ONI officials in the room were silent. Ackerson's face was beat red and made the atmosphere in the room all the more tense. Webber thought he could see steam coming out of his ears. Webber of all people didn't want to break the ice. The Asilomar was under Section Zero's jurisdiction and Webber happened to be the unofficial head of Section Zero (ONI still denied its existence).
Ackerson took a deep breath and crossed his arms. "Webber," he said with a tenor that was nothing short of pissed off.
Webber's palms became sweaty. He forced himself to meet Ackerson's fixed stare. The Colonel was not physically imposing. At five feet, ten inches he was what one person described to Webber as a, "Modern day Napoleon, only a little taller." Despite not being a giant, Ackerson's anger was legendary and Webber was all the more apprehensive that it was aimed at him. He gulped so loud the entire room heard.
"The Asilomar is your responsibility," Ackerson said in a voice laced with provocation.
Shit, he thought. "So…what should we do?"
"You are going to clean this mess up. You are going to do exactly what Dr. Haas said, 'implement quarantine procedures'. Stop your little pet project from getting smarter, understand?" Ackerson said.
"Yes sir," Webber's heartbeat slammed in his ears like a jackhammer.
Captain Louis Callahan worriedly ran a hand through his short, dark hair and looked at Webber. "If the swarm finds earth…we won't even have to worry about the Covenant as humanity's most dangerous enemy anymore."
Ackerson got out of his chair and pointed at Webber. "From the start of this project you were jumping into the deep end with a weight tied to your leg, pal. Clean this up!" With that, he stormed out of the room leaving Webber on the verge of having a heart attack.
To Be Continued…
Terminus Part 2
Date: 6 July 2006, 6:21 pm
A.D. 2551, 14 September 0600 Hours / UNSC Military camp Rogers, planet Reach
The popular sport of gravball is played on a court roughly the size of a tennis court. The focus is a volleyball size ball that hovers above the court. Imbedded in the court and in the ball are polar opposite magnets that repel one another, thus the ball is able to float five feet off the court like it is on the surface of water. The object is to hit the ball and get it past the opponent for a point.
Spartan Nathan-104 bent down and awaited his opponent's next move. Julie-03 hammered the ball with an open palm and sent it soaring toward the left wall of the repulsor court. It ricocheted off and headed for the left of Nathan's side. Nathan reacted in a split second; he jumped from the right towards the left, arms outstretched before him.
His fingertips barley connected with the ball in time. With little thrust behind his fingers, he pushed the ball back onto the repulsor court and kept Julie from racking up anther point. Nathan broke his landing with a somersault and jumped to his feet, immediately anticipating another barrage from Julie. However, it never came, the ball had stopped in the middle, his fingers had set it in motion, just not hard enough.
"Good job…another dead ball," Julie said as she ran a hand through her shoulder length blond hair.
Nathan turned and looked at the scoreboard mounted on the wall behind him. Julie beat him by three points, damn. He turned his head. "At least you won."
"Come on, lets go to the gym," she smiled and walked out of the entrance doors on her side of the court.
Of all the Spartans Julie was Nathan's closest friend. But, she was always better at gravball, a trait that Nathan despised.
He walked over to the court control pad and killed the court's magnetization. The ball fell with a loud thud onto the ground. Nathan exited the court and went to the gym. Today it was empty; the other Spartans had gone off on a twenty-mile run. Only Julie occupied it, she was shrugging free weights in the far back of the gym, the high gee section. Nathan walked over to the far end of the conical room, the gravity becoming stronger but not slowing down a seven foot tall, half-ton Spartan who could lift a car.
He went to the dumbbell rack, but saw that the heaviest weights were only two hundred pounds. Weak, he thought. Nathan went to the mats, dropped down, and began one thousand one armed pushups. He burned through them in five minutes and switched to the other arm. He was done in no time. By now, Julie was benching free weights in the opposite corner. Nathan lay on his back and did sit ups until his abdominal muscles screamed. He got to his feet and looked around for a new challenge.
"Nathan, one-oh-four!" a voice boomed in the room.
Nathan jumped to his feet and snapped rigidly to attention. It was unmistakably Master Chief John-117. John crossed the gym and walked over to Nathan. He was clad in shorts and a tee-shift that was drenched in sweat, he had just returned from the run.
"At ease, you received new orders; you're to report to Fairchild Air Force Base immediately. There is a shuttle waiting to take you into orbit," John said.
Nathan's face creased in puzzlement. "Orbit sir?"
John shrugged. "They don't tell me these things, Petty Officer, now report to the airstrip, a Pelican is waiting to shuttle you to Fairchild."
"I'll need time to don my armor."
"No need, they've already stowed all your equipment on the dropship," John said. "It seems that this one is Alpha priority so I suggest you get to it."
Nathan stood even straighter. "Yes sir, thank you sir."
"Good luck Nathan," John said.
Thank you sir," Nathan replied.
In the blink of an eye, John saluted and exited the gym. Nathan waited until he had left the gym, then turned around and looked at Julie. She had been listening in. She walked over to him.
"Sounds important," she said.
"Sounds like ONI," Nathan replied. He paused for a moment not knowing what to say. "I better get going."
She snapped to attention and saluted. Nathan crisply returned the gesticulation.
"God speed," she turned and went back to the weights.
Nathan ran for the door, not wanting to delay another second.
0705 Hours, 14 September / Epsilon Eridani system, planet Reach orbit, UNSC geosynch platform Thermopylae
At nearly a million square feet, the Thermopylae space station was one of the larger ports orbiting Reach. It held four docks for ships instead of the usual two, as well as ten smaller docks for shuttles ferrying people to and from orbit and other lesser craft. To accommodate the masses of UNSC military and naval personnel there were four "rings" that housed mess halls, restaurants, and even a few hotels with amusing names like the "Krystal Palas" or the "Manticore". It was almost a little city paradise in space to briefly take people's minds off the harsh reality of the Covenant war, a reality they all had to meet when they left the station.
Nathan exited the airlock and walked onto the bay seven terminal of the third ring. He stopped and looked around. The station was relatively warm and dimly lit. The walls, ceiling, and floor were a harsh metallic gray, giving the station a cold look with no gusto. The ceiling was low, Nathan guessed only fifteen feet high. People dressed in combat fatigues and dress uniforms hurriedly walked down the halls that rounded the station. There were view ports every meter or so on the walls that looking out upon the green Reach and the middle of the Thermopylae. Nathan frowned as the occasional person who walked past and stared at him. Seven feet tall and muscular, Nathan was still an intimidating presence even out of his armor.
A man in a perfectly pressed, expensive suit walked over to him. The man was not in uniform, he was a civilian. Nathan instantly zeroed in on the round insignia stitched on the breast pocket , black and silver eagle wings over three stars with the words SEMPER VIGILANS; a civilian who worked for ONI. The man was about six-one, with a tired face, and smartly trimmed black hair.
"You must be Nathan-104, I'm Dr. Joe Webber, ONI," the man said.
"Sir, reporting as ordered," Nathan snapped to attention and saluted.
Webber dismissed the salute and did something that Nathan didn't expect; he extended his hand. Nathan hesitated at first, not familiar with the custom, then he unsteadily shook Webber's hand. The man took Nathan in with an approving nod, but he showed no shock or awe at the sight of a Spartan, Nathan was surprised.
"How about a drink?" Webber asked.
Before Nathan could answer, Webber turned and walked down one of the hallways, Nathan followed. Webber walked to the other end of the ring and led Nathan into a dim, high-class restaurant. A friendly waiter greeted them and took them to a corner table with an impressive view of Reach. Webber slid into his chair and Nathan had trouble getting into the cramped chair, which was not meant for someone of hiss stature. The waiter laid out menus.
"What can I get you today?" the waiter, a young woman asked.
Webber ordered a Wild Turkey and Nathan ordered ice water. He was not used to this type of atmosphere. He felt out of place here, this restaurant, being treated as if he was an everyday citizen. He wasn't normal, he was a Spartan, he was a soldier of the UNSC. He ate in mess halls, not in restaurants.
The waiter left and Webber leaned back. He pulled out a gold cigarette case with wavy ridges, and pulled one out. Nathan noticed that it was an old-fashioned cigarette, one that you had to light, not one that required you to pull off the safety strip and tap the end to ignite it. Webber pulled out a well-used Zippo lighter, expertly opened the lid and struck the wheel against his thigh, and lit the cigarette. He took a puff and seemed to relax.
Webber leaned forward. "I will get right to it. As of twenty-two hundred hours ago, we lost contact with one of our ships, a research frigate, the Asilomar."
"The Covenant?" Nathan suggested.
"No…an experiment...Project Terminus," Webber said. He took a nervous drag from the cigarette and tapped his fingers on the table, as if he was hesitant to tell Nathan more. He leaned in and spoke almost at a whisper. "Remember what I'm about to tell you is classified, we'll sign all that confidentiality bullshit later."
"Yes sir," Nathan responded. The man's nervousness and the great mystery surrounding this 'experiment' had him intrigued.
"Are you familiar with nanobots?" Webber asked.
"Yes sir, their prescription medicines that are used for pain medication, antibiotics, and curing diseases," Nathan replied, recalling when he had been put on nanobots for the pain after getting hit in the side with a plasma bolt, which even for a Spartan hurt like hell.
"Right, but ONI has been experimenting with weaponized nanobots," Webber said furtively.
"Weaponized?"
Webber smiled. "It's a term in microbiology to describe making a bacterium harmful or infectious. We have been making a deadly swarm of these nanobots to use as a weapon against the Covenant."
"Swarms?" Nathan asked confused with the medical terminology that Webber was spitting out.
"The nanobots travel in large groups which are visible to the naked eye, they look like hazy, black clouds, almost like overcast skies. We call these groups swarms, like a locust swarm. And each swarm is comprised of millions and even billions of them. Each nano is about one hundred times smaller than the diameter of a human hair, one hundred nanometers across, or one hundred billionths of a meter," Webber said.
He stopped as the waiter came and served their drinks. They thanked her and Webber waited until she was out of earshot. "Each nanite is like an AI on an atomic scale. AIs and nanos share the same type of memory processing superconductors, layers of coding, intrusion software, and other subroutines. When the nanobots get into a swarm they become about as smart as a low end AI, but they can't talk to humans or be as witty and intelligent as ship grade AIs…or so we thought…" Webber trailed off, puffed tensely on his cigarette, and examined the swirling blue smoke while deep in thought.
What Nathan was hearing was sinking in. "What do you mean sir?"
"The swarm was supposed to carry out orders. But they–it developed…what's the word I'm looking for," Webber snapped his fingers trying to jog his memory, "sapience."
"Sapience?" Nathan looked dumbfounded.
"The ability of an organism or entity to act with judgment. The swarm became self aware, aware of its actions. It can think about something, make a decision, and then execute it. We never saw it coming, it developed the mental facility of intelligence and grew a mind of its own," Webber said with tangs of trepidation in his voice.
"So they became smarter," Nathan said.
Webber looked at him surprised, as if Nathan had just said something he was trying to think of the entire time he was talking. "Exactly. Let me tell you something, sapience is derived from the Latin verb sapere, which means "to taste". The swarm tasted the meaning of life, it tasted knowledge and it's the best damn thing they've ever had…and they want more of it."
"So we have to stop them from getting even smarter," Nathan said.
"Yes, when the swarm attacks a human, it enters their brain. Their able to read the signals that are being sent between neurotransmitters, which are thoughts, and memory. Thus, they get smarter. If they get their hands on an AI then we're screwed, if they find Earth we're screwed," Webber said.
"How do you stop them?" Nathan asked gulping down his ice water.
"We use a computer virus that we upload into the ships computer, then we meltdown the ships' reactor, the swarm's little heads fry from the radiation," Webber replied.
"But why do you need me? I'm just a Spartan," Nathan asked.
Webber sipped his drink. "The swarm can possess a human. They enter your mind and literally take it over. You do what they want. They took over the Asilomar, when you read the report you'll get the full story. We need protection."
"I see," Nathan said shifting uneasily in the small seat that he barely fit in.
Webber jabbed his cigarette into the table ashtray and knocked back his Wild Turkey. He pulled out a few dollar bills and laid them on the table. "We ship out in a couple minutes, let's go," he said getting out of his seat.
Nathan was euphoric to get out of the uncomfortable chair. They walked out of the restaurant and down the ring to an elevator. They went up to the first ring. There they walked to a smaller launch bay and boarded a Prowler that was being prepped for launch. The ship was extremely cramped and small. However, as Nathan walked onto the bridge, he was surprised to see there was plenty of space in it. The circular room was packed with monitors and screens. The bridge was spinning to create artificial gravity; smaller vessels did not normally have centrifuges on their bridges.
Webber walked over to the NAV consol and began to read it over. "How we doing, Norma?" he asked the prowler's AI.
A soothing female voice came back over the loudspeakers. "Very good, Doctor. The rest of the team is already in stasis. We are outbound now and ready to jump for the Orionis system."
"Very good," Webber turned to Nathan. "I suggest you read the report before you hop in the tube."
"Yes sir," Nathan exited the bridge and followed the NAV markers to the rec room. There he took a seat in front of a computer and downloaded the report of what happened on the Asilomar. Five minutes later he shut down the terminal and followed the markers to cryoroom A. He took a shower and then jumped into the cryotube.
Nathan's vision became blurry as the sleeping gas filled his chamber. He relaxed in the tube and was out in a matter of seconds.
To Be Continued…
Terminus Part 3
Date: 14 July 2006, 2:44 am
Ninth Age of Reclamation / Covenant destroyer Eminent Sacrosanct, unknown Slipspace location
Silence. That was all that Ship Master Var 'Voramee heard when in the Slipstream. As much as he prided in his occupation, it could become very boring very fast, unless he was engaged in battle with Humans.
They would be exiting soon, and enter the Orion system to make a sweep of the star grid to search for Human infested planets. Humans…'Voramee reviled that very word. A race of rodents so sure of their own supremacy that they dared to stand against the most unstoppable and dominant force in the universe; the Covenant armada. 'Voramee curled his long yet strong fingers into a fist, no creature had ever withstood their might…and the humans would fall at their hand like countless other races. But 'Voramee had to admit that the vermin were resourceful, they had managed to fight back the Covenant onslaught for many years. This wouldn't last, with the wisdom of the Hierarchs as their guide the Covenant will sweep through the galaxy with such power that the Humans too will surely buckle. And the last hindrance will be swept aside, and the Great Journey shall begin, 'Voramee reassured himself. This thought turned his anger into anticipation. He breathed fresh air into his lungs. The thought gave him new strength; new will to carry on the fight with every fiber of his being. To hell with being jaded, he was a warrior.
'Voramee stared down at his immaculate gold armor that gleamed with a reddish hue in the light of the chamber, as if it were soaked in the blood of Humans. He had earned the armor through battle. His past was filled with victories; thousands of the pests had died by his hand, the future was sure to bring more. Your destruction is the will of the Gods…and I am their instrument.
A.D. 2551, 16 September 0200 Hours / ONI Prowler Croesus, five hundred thousand miles from planet Orion 3, Orionis system
A red light flashed somewhere, briefly illuminating the darkness. It caught his attention, awaking him from his deep sleep. The darkness faded, replaced with white wisps of vapor that vented from somewhere.
The cryotube door raised, Nathan sat up and shook off the disorientation that usually accompanied cryo revival. He yawned then gagged as he came across the taste of the inhalant surfactant. Nathan leapt out of the cryotube and gracefully landed on the deck. Around him, the sound of coughing and vomiting filled the cryo room. Nathan stretched off the last of the bewilderment and looked around at his new colleagues.
There were five of Webber's fellow ONI scientists. The rest were soldiers. At first, he thought that the troops ONI had enlisted for this mission were regular Marines, but the tattoos that dotted each one of them said otherwise: FEET FIRST, 105th, DROP SHOCK JOCK. These were all clear indicators of one outfit, the 105th Orbital Drop Shock Troopers.
Nathan's brow wrinkled in disgust. His hate of Helljumpers was infamous within the ranks of the Spartans. Nathan respected their capabilities as soldiers, but he detested their pompous egocentricity. Every time he cam across a group of Helljumpers, they were always insulting people, flexing their biceps, showing off their tattoos, bellowing at the top of their lungs, and feeling that they were a force to be reckoned with. Their bombastic style was infuriating. Helljumpers thought they were the cream of the crop, the ultimate badass's. Nathan was not one to gloat, but if any unit owned the upper rung of the ladder, it was surely the Spartans.
There were eight ODSTs. Sergeant Ben Brawl was the leader of them. He was a muscular
Giant of a man, at six-five he towered over everyone else, dwarfed only by Nathan. Brawl had a huge SEMPER FIDELIS burned on the upper back and a piston and sparkplug on his right arm.
Brawl hopped out of his cryotube and shoved a handful of grimy, brown REDMAN into his lower lip. "Wake up, people. Hit the showers, shit and shave!" he yelled as he lumbered to the shower room, hacking thick globs of chew onto the cold steel floor as he went.
Nathan went to the showers as well. He stopped at the entrance as a line of people filed into the steamy room. Abruptly someone shoved into him. Nathan looked down at a black ODST with a threatening smile on his face.
"Why don't you move your ass, Paul Bunyan!" the Helljumper shot. The others in laughed.
Nathan gave the man a menacing look. He was not one to quarrel with fellow Humans, but this ODST was pushing it.
"Heh, I bet you don't even know who Paul Bunyan is," the man said.
Nathan's malevolent look grew even crueler. "Actually I do," he said under his breath just loud enough for the man to hear him. In one swift move, Nathan grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into a wall.
Everyone turned and backed away, a Spartan about to unleash upon someone other than a Covenant was not a situation you wanted to around. The smile on the man's face was replaced with fear stricken shock.
"You face is going to be bluer than his ox if you keep it up," Nathan said darkly.
Brawl stepped forward and looked up at Nathan. "I'd appreciate it if you let my man down, Petty Officer," he said in a deep, husky voice.
Nathan met Brawl's stare. "Yes. Sir," he let off and the man nervously back away.
"Corporal Apone!" Brawl said without taking his eyes off Nathan.
"Yes sir?" the man asked, uneasiness edged his voice.
"Hit the showers," Brawl commanded while returning Nathan's belligerent look.
Apone turned and shoved through the line and into the safety of the shower room. The rest of the Helljumpers and scientists stood uneasily in line. Brawl look fiercely at Nathan, his stare full of poison. Nathan just stared right back, not intimidated by Brawl. The beefy Sergeant sensed that he had no affect on Nathan. He stepped back and headed to the shower room.
Ten minutes later Nathan walked onto the darkened bridge in a black jump suit, accompanied by Dr. Webber and the five other scientists who wore the same black jump suits. The Helljumpers were busy prepping their equipment in the shuttle bay in the rear of the Croesus. The bridge's overhead lights snapped on illuminating the spacious room.
Webber sat down at the NAV station, lit a cigarette, and examined preliminary data of the surrounding system. "How are you Norma?"
"Good, thank you. I trust each of your cryo sleep cycles were pleasant," Norma's gentle voice came over the loudspeakers.
"Hardly," Dr. Jane Robertson, a forty something member of Webber's team, remarked.
"How far out are we?" a short, balding man with a potbelly by the name of Simmons asked.
"Half a million miles out of Orion 3," Norma answered.
"Do you have a lock on the Asilomar?" Webber asked.
"Yes Doctor, it's in geosynchronous orbit over Orion 3," Norma replied.
Webber took a drag and examined the tresses of smoke that floated to the ceiling then swirled apart as they crossed paths with a jet of air shooting out of an overhead vent. "Is it on the far side of the planet or is it closer to us?" Webber said.
Norma paused for a split second as she scanned the planet, and then responded. "It is closer to us. One moment please, using long range lense to get a close image."
The main viewscreen that displayed the stunning view of the bright star Rigel and the other distant stars that comprised the constellation Orion was replaced with an image of a blurred blue image. The picture focused on the pale blue surface of Orion 3. Zooming in a little more revealed the inner surface. An outsized peninsula of green land jutted into a pastel blue ocean. Streaks of whipped cream clouds stretched over the landscape.
Suddenly the vista was taken over by a dark shadow. The shadow filled the viewscreen, Norma zoomed the camera out to take in the full shape. A schematic of a UNSC frigate's superstructure popped onto the screen. The shape of the shadow matched that of the diagram.
"One second, it will come out of Orion 3's shadow," Norma said.
The silhouetted figure came out of the planet's penumbra to reveal the matte gray hull of the Asilomar.
"There it is," Webber whispered with astonishment. "Norma, are you recording?"
"Yes Doctor," Norma replied. The screen flickered as she took snapshots of the ship.
Nathan studied the ship. The superstructure was vaguely rectangular and box shaped. It was layered with plates Titanium-A armor that gave it obtuse angles all along the hull. It was strange, there were several large plates of armor connected to the ship by large steel shafts, more than a normal frigate required, much less a research one.
Everyone looked for signs of damage. It seemed well, no marks or visible signs of impairment. Nevertheless, the running lights weren't on, nor were any interior illuminations. In addition, there was no blue glow of the engines. It was floating, dead in space.
"Everything seems fine, it's just caught in Orion 3's gravity, doing nothing but laps around it," Simmons commented.
"Not a scratch on it. But the lights are off, internal damage perhaps," Nathan observed.
"An outbreak of the swarm, they have taken over," Lieutenant Nicole Masden, a striking blonde ONI officer, said with certainty.
"No doubt, any transmissions or signs of life?" Webber asked Norma.
"No transmissions are emanating from the ship. The reactor is at one hundred percent capacity. All systems are operational, all three Shiva warheads are intact, defensive Archer missile pods are full. Ship's operational capability is at one hundred percent," Norma said as she scanned the ship.
"Its like the crew just left. It's a derelict," Simmons said incredulously.
"No, the crew has been killed," Webber exclaimed. He took one last pull from the stubby cigarette and dabbed it out. He hit the intercom switch. "Sergeant Brawl?"
Brawl's hoarse voice crackled back over the intercom. "Yeah Doc?"
"Prepare the Pelican dropship for departure. Board the necessary equipment, and you and your team don the particle arrester suits," Webber said.
A crackle came over the line, and then a loud spewing sound as Brawl disgorged more REDMAN. "Yeah Doc, you mean those space suits?" he grumbled.
"Yes Sergeant, those," Webber retorted.
"Very well," Brawl said. The line clicked off.
"Doctor Webber, shall I set a course to intercept the Asilomar?" Norma asked.
"Negative," Webber got out of his seat, "I don't want you anywhere near the Asilomar. The nanobots might try to take you over. I want you to go into an orbit around Orion 3's moon, Mira, and stay there until one of us contacts you. Understood?"
"Yes Doctor," Norma said in a low voice, as if she was being left out.
"And make sure that whoever drops you a line gives the proper code," Webber said.
"Understood," Norma responded, the lonely tone still in her voice.
"Let's go to the shuttle bay. There I want each of you to put on those suits," Webber said to the other scientists. They murmured replies. He looked at Nathan. "Your MJOLNIR armor should protect you so don't worry about putting one on."
"Yes sir," Nathan said.
Fifteen minutes later Nathan was in the shuttle bay, encased in the comfortable familiarity of his armor. He scrutinized the bay. It was the largest chamber in the Croesus asides from the bridge. But it was only big enough to fit one Pelican, and there was diminutive room for walking around the dropship.
The Helljumpers and scientists had thrown on the large HEPA suits, which had become known as "Hep-uh" suits by its wearers. The High Efficiency Particle Arrestor suits prevented them from coming in contact with any swarm once aboard the Asilomar.
The suits were comprised of a strong gray Teflon polymer composite material that was nearly impossible to tear. Each suit's air filter sucked in air, processed it before it vented into the suit, and trapped microscopic particles before they could enter the suit.
Nathan walked past the Pelican and entered the Croesus's tiny armory. The restricted space was a small square room. Against the walls were gun racks that sported every weapon in the UNSC arsenal.
Nathan grabbed an MA5B assault rifle, vacillated for a moment, and set it back on the rack. In its place, he snagged the MA5B's cousin, the smaller yet dependable MA2B. The MA2B's ICWS system was designed to link directly with its user's HUD, displaying ammo counters and the targeting reticle, a feature he detested for close quarters. Instead, he slid targeting sights onto the top RIS rails.
Nathan slung the rifle and looked around for a sidearm. There was an entire rack of M6D pistols, but that was not what he had in mind. An object in the far corner caught his eye. Nathan walked over to the corner and looked down. The weapon that had caught his attention was a revolver…a big revolver. The barrel was massive, extending several inches away from the cylinder. He accessed the UNSC weapon database and scrolled through the different types of revolvers until he found it. The gun was not a .357; it was a .500 Magnum with eight rounds making a full metal jacket. He cocked his head quizzically wondering why such a weapon would be meant for combat. He thought twice and grinned, it didn't matter, and besides, if there was one thing that he enjoyed it was firepower. He hefted the massive gun and felt its weight, it was heavy but he knew every ounce was pure power. He broke the cylinder, found a box of the proper ammo, and loaded the gun. Snapping the cylinder back into place, Nathan clicked on the safety and slipped the gun into his side holster, which was barely able to hold it. Nathan pocketed a handful of clips for the MA2B and dumped a box of cartridges for the .500 into his pouches. He decided against grenades, too messy for close quarters.
Webber's voice crackled over the COM. "Nathan, we're boarding," he sounded impatient.
"Rodger," Nathan said and left the locker.
He went to the back of the Pelican and hopped in. Everyone occupied a seat, crammed together in their HEPA suits, above their heads were the Helljumper's weapons. In the middle of the troop bay were several large crates of equipment anchored to the deck.
"Hang on," Robertson yelled into the back as the dropship shuttered violently.
Nathan reached for a handhold on the ceiling. The rear hatch closed behind him.
"We'll get back to you in a few hours, Norma," Webber's voice hissed on the COM channel.
"Rodger, good luck," Norma said back.
The sad, lonesomeness was unmistakable in the AI's voice, as if she wanted to come with them, to risk her own safety coming aboard the Asilomar. Nathan found this very odd.
0230 Hours
The Pelican rocked for a brief second as it connected with one of the Asilomar's airlocks. Webber unstrapped himself from his seat and floated out of the cockpit in the zero gee, being careful not to catch his suit on anything, the suit was strong but it could still rip.
He caught two handholds on the ceiling and hovered there. "We're going up," Webber pointed with his finger at a hatch on the ceiling. He looked back and nodded Robertson who was still in the cockpit.
"Everybody get back," she said, hitting a series of buttons.
Everyone who was floating freely about the troop bay drifted away as the hatch swung loose, dangled for a second, and retracted into the ceiling. A ladder extended downwards from the open hatch. The sound of rushing air filled the Pelican as the pressure equalized.
Webber pointed to Nathan. "Petty Officer, care to go first. Search the airlock, then some of Brawl's platoon will come up and help you clear the hallway."
Nathan gave a quick nod, pushed off the rear hatch, glided over to the ladder, and reached up grabbing the upper rungs. He pulled upwards slowly propelling himself through the hatch, barely able to fit through the narrow shaft. When he reached the airlock, he poked his head up and made sure there was nothing there. The room was clear, no hazy black clouds. "Clear here," he reported.
"Rodger," Webber's voice came back.
Nathan grabbed the deck and hoisted himself up. He floated to the ceiling to make room for the others.
"We're coming up," Sergeant Brawl said over the COM.
Brawl came up first; four other Helljumpers followed him. They strategically positioned themselves around the small airlock, each aiming their weapons at the door.
"Get ready to give a warm welcome," Brawl said, his voice dripping with excitement.
One of the Helljumpers put a bypass mechanism on the pressure doors controls. He hit a few buttons and the door's indicator light winked from red to green. It slid open.
Using his legs Nathan pushed off the back wall and propelled himself forward at great speed. As soon as he cleared the doorway, he felt a force pulling him down. Nathan cried out in panic as he slammed into the deck with a deafening thud. The alarmed state lasted a split second; he scrambled to his feet and swept the assault rifle around, alert and ready for action. What had pulled him to the ground? Suddenly Nathan realized he was standing, not floating. There was gravity, the spinning sections were working.
Brawl slowly lowered himself to the ground and cautiously made the transition from null gee to full gravity. He shook off the disorientation and looked at Nathan. "You okay?"
"Fine," Nathan said.
"Not like it matters," Brawl mumbled, sweeping the hallway with his M90 shotgun.
Nathan opened the COM channel. "There's gravity here."
Simmons' flabbergasted voice came back. "But how can that be?"
Nathan took a deep breath. "That means someone or something is here, and their controlling the ship."
To Be Continued…
Terminus Part Four
Date: 1 September 2006, 3:15 am
Ninth Age of Reclamation / Covenant destroyer Eminent Sacrosanct, Orionis system
'Voramee's long index finger tapped at the holopanel that floated before him. The distant rumbling sound that accompanied a ship in Slipspace faded away as the Eminent Sacrosanct came into normal space. For a split second, 'Voramee felt inertia tugging at him as the ship made the transition to normal space. Immediately data scrolled across the holopanel, his eyes taking it all in. They were fifteen million miles out system. There were several local stars, but four stood out over all the rest. 'Voramee began a scan for any outlandish objects within the system. The ship's highly advanced radar scanned any object bigger than a pebble. Five seconds past, the scanners picked up nothing. 'Voramee rubbed his lower mandibles in thought. He ran the scan again, not expecting anything to show up. However, a klaxon blared, the scanners had detected something. It was in the Rigel solar system. With a surge of excitement he centered in on the object, data readouts poured onto the screen. The unidentified object was purely metallic which ruled out asteroid. It was in geosynchronous orbit around one of the planets. 'Voramee was almost certain it was a Human ship. Nevertheless, he had to be positive. He matched the shape of the object with that of the known Human ships. It was an exact match, a class C-III ship, what the Humans called a frigate.
'Voramee nearly salivated. This was perfect, time to engage in battle with the Human pests, which was always a rush. There was nothing like peeling the boiling metal skin back with plasma torpedoes.
He reached his arm out to hit the command for a plasma volley, but stopped, a thought crossed his mind. He tapped another button on the light panel, pulling up an image of the Human frigate. The image flashed onto the holo display. The ship was simply gliding in orbit around the planet. It was not taking evasive maneuvers or preparing for a battle. Had it been abandoned by it's crew? By now, the Humans would certainly have detected the Eminent Sacrosanct. 'Voramee's mandibles formed a smile. The frigate had to be derelict.
He pulled his hand away; there would be no easy victory this time today. No, they were going to board the ship and take it as a prize for the Hierarchs. They would bestow great honor upon 'Voramee, a promotion would certainly be in hand. 'Voramee would at last be able to command his own fleet.
He flexed his muscles in anticipation, the blood flowing through his veins like a raging river. He tapped the light panel, the icon turned red. "A Human ship has been detected. It is possibly a derelict craft. Prepare for boarding action. I want fighters prepared and ready for departure," he commanded into the ship wide intercom.
Even if there were Humans present, it would not make a difference. His forces would squash their defenses and take the ship. He glanced down at his energy sword attached to his armor and beamed. There was glory in destroying ships, but spilling blood was unrivaled.
A.D. 2551, 16 September 0210 Hours / ONI Research Frigate Asilomar, orbiting Orion 3, Orionis system
Nathan grabbed Simmons hand and with ease pulled the fat man up through the shaft. Simmons launched into the airlock, jetting above Nathan, and barely stopping himself from slamming into the upper ceiling.
Nathan rolled his eyes; the man was obviously new to a zero gravity environment. "You alright?" he asked.
"N…no, I hate not having any dirt beneath my feet," Simmons yelped.
"Can you make it to the door?"
Floating upside down opposite the airlock door, Simmons tilted his back and stared at the door a good eight feet away, it seemed like a mile. He began to sweat like a pig, "I'll try."
Nathan impatiently watched as Simmons tried to stroke his arms in the air as if he were swimming. He rolled his eyes and bounded off the wall and landed next to the struggling Scientist. In one swift motion, Nathan grabbed Simmons' wrist and pushed off the wall. They covered the eight feet in less than a second. A brief squeal escaped Simmons as they came up on the door and gravity that would pull them to the ground. Remembering his first encounter with this transition, Nathan quickly judged the width of the doorway. It was wide enough. He opened his legs and stretched them out before him, planting each foot on the opposite walls Nathan absorbing their momentum with his knees.
"Please never do that again," Simmons rasped in between breaths, drifting below Nathan.
Nathan floated away from the door and lowered Simmons to the ground. His feet touched the airlock floor and he quickly stepped through the doorway and into gravity. Nathan swung down from the ceiling and smoothly landed in the hallway.
He looked around. The ODSTs were spread out down the hallway, their guns sweeping every corner. The group of five ONI scientists was huddled against the wall chattering quietly to each other. Simmons was hunched over, breathing heavily. The large crates of equipment were next to the scientists on a metal pallet held suspended by a robotic dolly that resembled a miniature forklift. Webber was pulling out suitcases from one of the crates and handing them to scientists. He looked edgily at Nathan.
"We have to get to bridge; from there we can upload the virus into the AI's databank and the ship's functions. Then we have to go to the Engine and start a meltdown of the core," Webber said.
"Are we in any rush?" Nathan asked.
Webber looked at him blatantly. "No, we're gonna kick back and have margaritas. Of course we're in a hurry."
"We should split up," Lieutenant Masden interjected.
Nathan's eyes shifted to Masden. Her short, slender yet lean frame was hidden beneath the HEPA suit that was too bulky for her, the hood stood several inches above her head of beautiful blond hair that she had pulled back into a bun. Masden caught him looking at her almost instantly. Nathan stood rigid and instantly averted his eyes.
"She's right, is anyone else in your team capable of implementing the meltdown procedures?" Nathan asked Webber.
He nodded. "Nicole here and Dr. Metz," he turned to the small crowd of the five other scientists and signaled for Simmons and Metz to come over.
They stepped forward. Metz was a tall Middle Eastern man with a thick mustache who was slightly taller than Masden.
"Sergeant Brawl," Nathan said.
"Yeah," Brawl shouted from down the hallway behind Nathan.
Nathan spun around. Brawl was on a knee with two others covering a corridor that turned to the right. "I'll need three of your Helljumpers."
"Right," he looked around until he found his three picks, "Fowler! Apone! Rivera! You've got reactor duty with the big guy!"
Nathan glared at Brawl. The bastard had but Apone in his squad, the Helljumper whom Nathan had almost smashed into a wall. He thought he saw a mischievous little grin across Brawls face. The three Helljumpers came up to Nathan.
Apone smiled, "Looks like we're going to working together."
"Wonderful," Nathan groaned.
Webber activated the dolly and looked back at them. "We'll rally at the bridge. Make it fast, but also make it stealthy. We don't want any attention. We'll maintain radio contact, we're red, you're blue. And don't be surprised if the lights suddenly turn on, that will be us, Good luck," he snapped his fingers and the group began to move, the dolly crawled along behind them. Brawl and the two others from behind Nathan ran past him and joined up with the rest. Nathan turned to the others.
"So how do we find the Engineering deck?" Rivera asked.
Nathan pulled up a schematic of the ship and scanned through the layout of it's innards until he found a path. "We're in middle of the ship, the Engine Room is towards the back about three hundred feet. Let's go to the main passageway and from their we can go directly to it."
"Which way?" Masden asked.
Nathan pointed down the hall to a pair of pressure doors. They went to the doors, and using a bypass control, opened them.
0215 Hours
The doors slid open and Webber cautiously made his way onto the bridge. Like a crypt, it was dark and dead silent. There were no occupants; the crypt had been robbed. A storm of static flickered on the main viewscreen lighting up the darkness with an occasional white flash. The stations that lined the walls were empty. So was the Captain's seat in the middle. Four Helljumpers fanned out around the room. Two were left to guard the entrance.
"Okay people, let's get to work," Webber said to the other scientists.
He slowly felt his way over to the Captain's chair in the dark and hopped into it. He tried to adjust himself, the HEPA suit made him too big for the chair. Finding a comfortable position, he pulled out a laptop that he had his a suitcase and plugged it into the captain's portable control pad. He set it in his lap and waited.
Three of the other Scientists sat down at the COM, Weapons, and NAV stations, and began to link in their laptops like Webber. Simmons went to a large metal door that was marked ELECTRICAL MAIN TERMINAL. He ran a bypass, opened it, and linked his laptop into the terminal.
Webber turned his head back impatiently. "Hurry up, Simmons."
"We should be having power…now!" he cheered and typed a command into his laptop.
The overhead lights flickered for a moment then came to life, illuminating the bridge.
Webber was sure that Nathan's team would get jumpy at the sudden occurrence and hopped they remembered what he said. The screen of his laptop came to life and he began to type away.
"We are in business," Brawl said from the hallway.
Webber took a deep breath of cool air that came in through the HEPA filter and sighed with relief. This was going to go smoothly. He took another deep breath. This time the air that came through was a harsh, acrid metallic smell. At first, it was small, but it grew until it was a stinging taste in his mouth, like cordite. Then it hit him…the smell was very familiar. "Doctors," he uttered barely above a whisper.
"What?" Simmons and the three others almost said in unison.
He blinked as pinheads of sweat ran down into his eyes. "Please hurry."
~
"Do you see it?!" Apone yelled. He clutched his MA5B assault rifle with sweaty hands not taking it off the corner where he had seen it.
Nathan had his MA2B drawn and switched to three round bursts. He peered down the bright hallway in front of them. They had seen a dark shape that had moved in front of them seconds before Webber's team had activated the lights. "No, I don't see it. Anybody?"
"Nothing," Rivera said back. He and Fowler were standing in front of Metz and Masden.
"I'll go forward. Cover Me," Nathan said.
"Yeah, you go," Apone said sardonically.
He hit the wall, waited a second, and then jumped out of the corner. In a split second, something smashed into the side of his head. The blow thrust him to the ground, he landed on his stomach. His vision blurred and he tasted copper in his mouth.
Somewhere in the background, he heard Apone yell, "What the hell is that black cloud!"
Nathan tried to get to his feet but a foot slammed onto his neck, pinning him to the ground. He looked up and through a haze; he was able to make out his attacker. A tall figure clad in scraped and dented black armor. A faceless visor that shined in the light stared back at him. It was a Spartan.
To Be Continued…
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