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The Secret of Zanzibar by ph33rfuldude



The Secret of Zanzibar: Prologue
Date: 24 February 2005, 7:57 PM

Fortress Zanzibar, East African Protectorate
Team Operation
Spartans -118 and -129 Active

Josh huffed as his motion tracker showed nothing. No movement, only his team mate's, which showed up as a yellow blip.
He was growing bored with waiting around for someone to kill. The people here in Zanzibar were sick. They were demented militants, using their knowledge in science and engineering to create super humans that they claimed were equal to the Spartans. Perhaps. But they didn't have the UNSC backing them up, although they had created a reverse-engineered MJOLNIR armor, which they dubbed "THOR". Josh scoffed at the thought. The true Spartans were the ones with the upper hand.
Guy, SPARTAN-118, his unofficial team mate for this mission, had been waiting at the shoreline of the fortress, waiting for the "go-ahead" from HighCom in New Mombasa. It was a simple job, nothing to it, silence insurgent "Spartans" and walk out like nothing happened.
Guy was leaning against the only vehicle they had been allowed to bring, a M12 Warthog LAAV for quick transport. He knew it would come in handy. The Warthog had been equipped with a Gauss Cannon, and Josh leaned lazily against the rear bumper of the vehicle.
Josh switched to his private freq. "Anything yet?" He knew the answer.
"No. But sitting here on the doorstep of Old Zanzi isn't making me feel any less at home. I'd rather be back in New Mombasa," Guy said, crossing his arms across his chest, his steel-and-red MJOLNIR Mark VII battle armor glinting the afternoon sunlight. The Mark VII was the brainchild of ONI's Section Three division. They had incorporated elements of the Elite's battle armor by fusing the two together. It was the best the UNSC could offer. Active camouflage with a near limitless capacity, sound dampeners, electronic countermeasures, an autonomous intrusion system for hacking into moderately-protected computer systems, The Mark VII was the best thing to have happened to the soldiers involved with the SPARTAN-SOF program.
"STEEL-02 through STEEL-06, report in," Guy said. He nonchalantly walked around to the passenger side of the Warthog, reached in between the back of the seat and the cab's rear wall, and pulled out his trusty BR55 Battle Rifle. He pulled the magazine out of the receiver, and visually inspected the piece. Slapping the magazine into the receiver again, he pulled back on the bolt and loaded a single round into the chamber.
Steel Team reported in, one by one. "STEEL-02 checking in," "STEEL-03 ready, sir," "STEEL-04 all clear," "STEEL-05, awaiting orders, Chief," "STEEL-06, in position, over." Guy glanced up at the mission clock displayed on the upper left corner of his HUD. "All right, boys. Keep frosty and wired tight. Any second now and we'll get underway."
Josh fiddled with his M6C magnum. He pulled back the slide, and checked to make sure a round was loaded. He turned around and grabbed his Jackhammer rocket launcher. "Nothing beats an M19 Jackhammer," he said, throwing it over his shoulder. He holstered his M6C and glanced at Guy.
"STEEL-07, you ready?" Guy asked.
"Don't call me STEEL-07. It's SPARTAN-129," Josh said, pulling himself onto the turret of the Warthog. He flipped a few switches and the low humming of the magnetic capacitors started. "I'm not 'officially' on this team."
"Official or not, you're still under my command per orders from Lieutenant Colonel Collins." Guy smiled briefly behind his helmet, something he rarely did, slinging his Battle Rifle over his shoulder and opening the Warthog's glove compartment. He pulled out a few magazines of ammunition for the M7 SMG he had holstered to his side. He stuffed the magazines into a pouch and closed the glove compartment. Guy glanced again at his mission clock and reached into the center console to fumble around and find four extra BR55 magazines. He stuffed them into another pouch. "Ready to rock."
Still nothing had come through to the two lone Spartans and the six other squad members. It was a quiet, and it seemed deceivingly peaceful.
Josh knew better than to let his guard down, and so did Guy.
The air around Fortress Zanzibar was quiet as the sun began to set. Josh had been sitting on the back of the Warthog now for two hours. And still no word from New Mombasa. Strange.
Guy sat in the driver's seat of the Warthog. He had taken his helmet off and basked in the East African setting sun. His head was against the headrest when he heard the scream of two Longswords, heavy fighter-bombers. Guy shot up from his restful state. "Holy crap!"
Josh turned to look as loud explosions rocked the beach. An airstrike.
Guy put his helmet on and contacted New Mombasa. Nothing came in response.
"HighCom New Mombasa, please respond." Static filled the speakers built into his helmet. Guy cut the communications link.
"All Steel Team members report in. On the double, Spartans!" Guy started the Warthog, and looked back at Josh. "Knuckle up." Josh jumped into action, hopping up on the turret and manning it. "Kick it into gear."
The two waited for the explosions from the Longswords' bombs. But nothing echoed off the concrete walls of the fortress, only silence. "What's up with those pilots?" Josh asked.
"Screw it," Guy said. "We're going in, with or without HighCom's permission." He slammed his armored boot to the pedal, sand kicking up in a wild cloud and shot skyward as the Warthog lurched forward. He quickly turned the steering wheel as he adjusted course. Pulling the handbrake, he put the car into a powerslide and drifted into a corner, flooring it again as inertia deteriorated and got him back on the track. He continued into through an arch in the stone wall of Fortress Zanzibar and then stopped just inside the wall's perimeter.
No activity.
Josh called up his link to the UNSC geostationary satellite, and overlaid and image on Guy's HUD. "Are they hiding? They should be trying to prepare for another airstrike," Josh said.
Static crackled over Guy's COM. "SPARTAN-117 to STEEL team. Report to these coordinates. I'll meet you there. This is urgent." The COM went silent.



The Secret of Zanzibar: Lethal Discovery
Date: 13 March 2005, 9:08 AM

MESSAGE INCOMING
RUNNING ANTI-INTRUSION SOFTWARE....DONE
FROM: SPARTAN-117
SUBJECT: Urgent
CLASSIFICATION: URGENT
ACCESS LEVEL: NONE
ATTACHMENT: //coordinates_rendezvous.nav
RUNNING DECRYPTION SOFTWARE
MESSAGE START

      Guy,

      Take Josh and Steel team to the rendezvous coordinates. HighCom New Mombasa is under attack by the Mirror Spartans. They have cut off communications in and out of New Mombasa. I can't say whether or not it's going to be easy getting back into contact with Lieutenant Colonel Collins and his Marines in the city, so we must assume that we are the last UNSC combat personnel alive. We're going to try and take the city back on our own.

      Proceed to the coordinates with extreme caution, Spartan.
      SPARTAN-117

      "Josh, we got a problem. I'm forwarding a message to you. We gotta move out," Guy said, flooring the pedal. The Warthog shot forward as Guy steered it through the entrance. He stepped on the brakes slightly as a reinforced door opened for the Warthog.

      Without hesitation, Guy sped into the entrance to a cavern. The door behind the Warthog closed, and darkness engulfed the two Spartans. Guy flipped the lights switch on the dashboard, and the H.I.D. lights blazed to life, lighting up the cavern. He drove on a little further until he came to a large, open area, dimly lit by fading lights.

      This place was old. Real old.

      And there was the Master Chief and STEEL team.

      Guy got out of the Warthog, and walked over to the Chief. He saluted, and stepped away. Josh warily stepped off the Warthog's turret, and saluted the Chief quickly, and tucked his hands behind his back.

       Guy was puzzled. How did they get here?, he thought. Josh was just as puzzled, but he brushed it aside. There was more important things to do.

      "Alright, Spartans, here's the situation. New Mombasa is in chaos. Civilians are being massacred, satellite imagery suggests that these "Mirror Spartans" are gathering the leaders of the UNSC in New Mombasa in something like a concentration camp. Our goal is to free these leaders, get them out of New Mombasa and eliminate this Mirror Spartans. Stealth and celerity is essential here, Spartans. Suppressed weapons only."

      Josh nodded. He looked around the cavern. "I'll see what I can do with making this our HQ."



      Hours had passed since they arrived in Fortress Zanzibar.

      Night had fallen upon the coastal base. And Josh was hard at work bringing the base's systems back online. He was working on a computer terminal, procuring information and schematics on the place. What he found took him a full five minutes to absorb completely. A cryobay?
      "Why does a power station have a cryobay?" He tapped into the security systems and overrode the lock. "Master Chief, get Guy and meet me in the lobby. I found something interesting."

      "We're on our way."

      Guy, the Chief, and STEEL team arrived in the lobby. Josh pointed to an opened door. Guy nodded and raised his BR55 to his shoulder, The Master Chief followed him, and the rest of STEEL team took up a position behind them.

      Guy swept his rifle over the area, kicking suspicious objects, waiting for something to pop up and either shoot at him or hold up their underwear for a sign of truce. "Clear over here, Chief."

      The Master Chief kneeled, and swept once more with his rifle. "No one's here."

      Josh stood over a cryotube, glaring down at the eerie green light coming from it. "Master Chief, you might want to look at this." John strode up behind Josh, and looked down. "Sir, there are no life signs in it. But it's interesting. What's with the green light?".

      The Chief shook his head and backed up from the tube. "These people....what were they thinking?" Josh looked back at the Chief, and shook his head. "You're losing me."

      "Get back from there. Now, Spartan!"

      Josh started to back away when the reinforced glass began to squeal under the stress of some force on the inside pushing out. The Chief reached for his Battle Rifle.

      Guy looked over his shoulder, and stood up, raising his rifle and taking aim. "What button did you push now, Josh?"

      "Button? I don't know."

      "STEEL team, fire sector on that cryotube!"

      The STEEL Spartans all aimed at the cryotube.

      The glass on the cryotube splintered as a disfigured creature emerged out of it. It resembled the old MJOLNIR Mark V armor, but....it was covered by a sick, flesh-like, membrane in some places. Three whip-like projections shot out from the creature's left arm, and it let out a sick, gurgling battle cry.

      The Chief brought his BR55 to his shoulder. "It's the Flood. I'll be damned!"

      "A Spartan Flood?" Josh asked, unholstering his M6C magnum and taking aim. The Spartan Flood stood still for a moment, then lashed out at Josh. Josh jumped backwards and fired his magnum at the sick being. The shields deflected the bullet, but Josh quickly unloaded on the Flood. The shields dissipated and splintered.

      The eight Spartans fired on the beast, a flurry of hail flying into the monster as it screamed, green "blood" splattering over the dim walls.

       Josh whistled. "The Flood, huh? Well, I think I make this place give up it's secrets, then?" Josh walked to a computer terminal, and began to access the system.

       The whole system was divided into subsidary systems to keep an entire system crash from destroying the valuable data each terminal held. Josh worked furiously to get into the system.

       "All right, I'm in."



      "We all know Zanzibar was a power station. When the EAP's effort to supply funds to the overinflated power grid was a failure, Zanzibar was disconnected from the power grid along with several other stations. That's when the 'Exercitus Augustus' took over and transformed the station into a base for studying the effects of the Flood on human subjects. They used the station to supply their base for their studies." Josh typed something, and continued. "From what I can tell, things didn't turn out so well. There's a complete record as to what happened with the human subjects."

      "Like?"

      Josh read the information aloud. "DNA degeneration, tissue corruption, psychosis, subject memory loss, neurological breakdown, subjects turning into Carrier forms and exploding...pretty nasty stuff. The infection forms from the newer Carrier forms operated like any other, just more lethal."

      "It says that these Flood specimens, the Infection forms, were kept in cold storage and cross-bred with human embryos. It increased the human side's growth time dramatically. When the creation reached maturity, it resembled a regular human being."

      Josh shook his head. "But most subjects didn't live past the age of 14 due to the Flood taking control. Subjects had to be killed. However," Josh paused to type something else in. "the scientists decided to keep the new specimens in cold storage and pursue their own SPARTAN project, a.k.a. 'THOR'. The idea was to take unaltered humans and make them into super soldiers from the Flood research. They actually succeeded. They reverse engineered the Mark V MJOLNIR armor and took Flood DNA and combined it with unaltered human DNA. Then they outfitted their super soldiers with the THOR armor. The result is astounding."

      Josh tilted his head. "The subjects had to have all dominant traits in their DNA in order to survive the Flood DNA being introduced into their own."

      Josh looked over at the Master Chief. "The effects on the humans are that these super soldiers have regenerative properties like the Flood, but are capable of independent thought. The human DNA controls the Flood DNA, instead of the opposite." Josh looked back at the screen.

      "There is a Flood infection form present in all subjects, but it actually grows inside the human first, encompassing vital organs necessary for the human to survive. The two beings coexist. In so doing the host is up to 70 times stronger than an average human being, and supposedly 20 times stronger than us. At least, that's what they claim."

      "The scientists have prevented the subjects from transforming into carrier forms by suppressing the infection form's control over the bodily functions. It's limited only to regeneration, strength increase, agility increase, and stamina increase. It's amazing."

      The Chief thought hard. "If these scientists discovered how to harness the parasitic properties of the Flood and use it to their advantage successfully, why did this poor bastard become a Flood-controlled host?"

      Josh downloaded the information into his armor's onboard database for future reference. "My guess is that the Flood was still alive. The human must have died, clinically speaking, and the Flood awoke and took over major functions."

      "Can you find out who these scientists are with?" the Chief asked.

      "Yes, sir. It's rather sketchy, but most of them were with the Office of Naval Intelligence's Section Three group. Biochemists, experts in the medical areas, cloning, genetics, almost every field of research. Renegade scientists."

      The Master Chief nodded. "Good work, Josh. Guy, take STEEL team and secure the base. Destroy any Flood subjects spotted, then report back here. We're going to knuckle up and take New Mombasa back." Guy nodded to the Chief. "You got it."

      "And Guy," the Master Chief said. "Rig this place with explosives. We're making damn sure that this place is sealed when we leave."





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