 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Terminus Part 3
Posted By: monitor101<wasup1989@hotmail.com>
Date: 14 July 2006, 2:44 am
Read/Post Comments
|
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…
|
