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Absolution
Date: 14 July 2004, 11:58 PM
ABSOLUTION
"....I do hereby swear to uphold and protect the integrity of the human race, with my blood, valor and very life if it be necessary."
The oath finished, ten thousand hands lowered, and a solemn silence overtook the cavernous room. The tough looking marine at the podium drilled everyone in the face with a piercing gaze.
"Welcome to Hell, ladies."
_________________________________________________________
"WAKE UP YOU MISERABLE FOOLS!!!"
The shout was deafening in the concrete barracks, amplified by the bullhorn held to the drill sergeant's face. Men fell out of wistful sleep with a crash and lined up at the foot of their beds with crisp precision. The bull necked sergeant strode down the line with a miserable glare imprinted on his stern features. The plasma scars on the side of his shaved head glistened in the harsh lighting, reinforcing that the recruits had woken up to a terrible reality. War was waiting outside, just past graduation day. And that day was fast approaching.
The recruits mustered beneath the flag of the UNSC on the parade ground at 0400 hours. Despite the rude awakening, the men were rigid at attention, the sleep gone from their eyes. This was no time to screw around.
"FORM UP!"
The men turned and fell into a brisk jog behind the sergeant, and the column took off into the predawn darkness.
_________________________________________________________
"Ladies, from this day forth, you are sissies no more. Congratulations."
The loudspeaker blared into the cool mountain air, pronouncing the news to the vast ranks of men in combat fatigues. The large UNSC flag snapped in the breeze, augmenting the sergeant's words with its presence.
"You are now among the strong. The merciless. The brave. You are Marines." The sergeant never once cracked a smile, never shifted his feet. He was the paragon of discipline.
"On this, your graduation day, I leave you with only one word of advice: keep your heads and asses down and your gun on the enemy. Don't fight to win; Fight to survive. That is all."
The stolid drill sergeant saluted the assembled graduates, then turned, and left the podium. He would see very few of them again.
The grandstands were empty. There were no family members, no friends. No one watching, for they were all standing at attention on the parade grounds. Humanity was in the midst of the largest military mobilization in the history of civilization. However, there also one major difference from ever other major call to arms in history. There was no draft, no conscription act. Every able bodied man readily volunteered for the military. The women joined the air force and navy, for it was widely believed that women had faster reactions with a ship, and men were faster with guns. The disabled and elderly tended to that which robotics were unable to build and repair. In short, civilian population as it was once was known vanished. There were no anti-war protests, no picketing or second guessing the powers that be. It became very clear to everyone that the only options were fight or be destroyed. They chose survival.
_______________________________________________________
The tough drill sergeant sat outside in the moonlight. His grizzled jaw ground on the stub of a cigar. He exhaled, breathing thick white smoke out into the night. The smoke hung in a cloud around his face, shrouding his features. Absently, he reached over and peeled the nametag off of his breast pocket, held it up to his face. T. Heines. He snorted, sending tendrils of smoke over his name.
Heines stood up, slapping the nametag back over his shirt pocket. Tom Heines, meat grinder operator. Sending men off to the war machine. But he harbored no guilt. He was training men to survive, training them the best ways he knew how. The sergeant took a great deal of pride in his job, and felt it was his duty to make sure those boys had the best chance of coming back alive.
He dusted off the seat of his pants, and wandered back inside his hut. His home, way up here in the mountains. High altitude training for combat on low oxygen planets. There were thousands of other training bases set up in every climate zone on earth. And several other planets as well. The flat screen monitor in the corner of the hut beeped at him. He sat down in front of it, and a set of orders flashed up onto the screen. He expected them to detail another shipment of recruits. But he saw he was wrong in making that assumption. It detailed the arrival of a replacement drill instructor. Orders to pack his bags. He fingered the scars on the side of his head. He was returning to the fight.
***
Absolution: Chapter I
Date: 17 July 2004, 5:07 AM
ABSOLUTION
CHAPTER II
Sergeant Heines sat in the back of the transport, duffel bag under his seat. The compartment was empty save for him. The Pelican decelerated and initiated docking procedure. Retro rockets fired, and correctional thrusters twisted the transport around, nestling it securely into the bay.
The hatch opened, and Heines stood, grabbed his duffel, and walked over the bay's second floor to the main corridor. His combat boots clattered over the titanium grating, attracting the attention of several nearby spacecraft technicians. A liaison officer met him inside the corridor entrance.
"Good evening, sergeant. Welcome to Galleon Station." The man peered up at the looming Heines, suddenly feeling slightly intimidated. The man was huge, built like a pro boxer, and the scars that peeked from under the camouflage cap only served to reinforce the man's sinister disposition. This was not a nice person.
"I...if you will follow, me, the general is waiting for you." The officer turned and walked down the corridor, beckoning for Heines to follow.
They proceeded to an elevator, which took them a kilometer into the belly of the Section Command Headquarters.
The liaison left the sergeant in front of a set of double oak doors. The man returned to his desk, and some urgent paperwork. The slightly bewildered Heines left his bag by the liaison's desk and stepped up to the doors. The last five days had been an extremely puzzling affair. The transport that had delivered the replacement drill sergeant had orders to take him to the North American space command center. From there, he had been escorted to an ONI Prowler vessel and promptly put in cryogenic suspended animation. When he was awoken, he was in deep space, and the prowler was approaching a massive space station.
Through these doors is the answer to this little adventure. He took a moment to square his shoulders, and edged closer to the doors, which slid open for him. He stepped inside, and found himself in a conference room. A general was sitting at the head of a long table, with an admiral on one side. The were sifting through some documents, and looked up as he entered and stood to attention.
"At ease, sergeant" the general gestured at the seat in front of Heines. "Please, sit"
The sergeant remained standing. "If I may, sir, I'll stand. I've been on my ass for the last few days."
The general nodded acquiescence and got down to business. "You no doubt are wondering why you are here, and why unusual method of transport."
Heines said nothing.
"First off, why don't we tell you exactly where here is." The general leaned back as the lights dimmed and the holoprojector warmed up, displaying a model of the galaxy. "Galleon Station was assigned to Section Three command of combat operations." An arm of the galaxy was highlighted, and Heines noted that it was the arm adjacent to the one containing the solar system. "Unfortunately, we took some moderate damage in a surprise Covenant assault and had to jump to deep space to effect repairs. When repairs are complete, we will jump back, and you will be coming with us. Before the assault, a recon flight found something most intriguing."
The image of the galaxy blurred and disappeared, and the image of a solar system took its place. Seven planets, mostly gas giants. A single planet, however, stood out. A white planet. The image focused on the planet, which seemed to follow no orbit.
The Admiral cleared his throat with a rumble and took over the briefing. "Gamma Epsilon System. A flight of prowlers entered the system on its patrol run. Section Three Command is new in this area and we are currently engaged in mapping previously unexplored systems and searching for any signs of the Covenant. Part of Operation: Absolution."
Heines nodded, familiar with the operation. After the fumbled Covenant attack on earth, a desperate push was made back against the enemy lines in an effort to regain control of Sol System. The Covenant advance was stonewalled and slowly pushed back, which gave the Admiralty time to launch several counterattacks and give humanity time to regroup and regain control. After a stable base of protected systems was formed, Command launched Operation: Absolution, a program to scour the solar system for Covenant outposts and uninhabited worlds for colonization. So far the operation was a stunning success, yielding dozens of planets ready for human colonization, and hundreds of Covenant outposts destroyed. The UNSC had gotten the ground and strategic positioning it needed to rebuild its power base.
The Admiral cleared his voice again and continued. "The recon flight noticed this planet," the white planet zoomed into focus and rough jagged mountains came into view. "Which really cannot be classified as a planet at all. It follows no apparent solar orbit. ...It's just...well, floating around." The admiral pushed his glasses up farther on his nose. "We believe it may be artificial. Of Forerunner construction. Sergeant Heines, this planet needs to be explored and its secrets found."
Absolution: CHapter II
Date: 19 July 2004, 4:57 AM
ABSOLUTION
CHAPTER II
The General leaned forward and spoke. "You, as the former drill instructor at the high altitude training base, are the most qualified to lead the forces we will deploy on this planet."
Heines glanced at the holoprojection. "Yessir."
The straightforward and abrupt answer took the general by surprise. Judging by the look on his face, he was expecting somewhat more of a hesitant answer. He had underestimated this marine. "We have put together a special task force for this mission. The main contingent will be the marines you had a hand in training at your high altitude base. Those will be complimented by the UNSC Prometheus for air support and defense, should it be necessary. The Prometheus is complimented with three squadrons of Longswords, so, barring a full scale covenant assault, you will be in good hands. Your "Mountain Division" will be equipped with complete cold weather gear and munitions." The General looked at the holoprojection, still displaying the jagged, forbidding looking mountains. "That is all, for now."
Sergeant Heines saluted, spun on his heel, and left the room.
The UNSC Prometheus dropped out of slipspace one Astronomical Unit from the ice planet. Immediately, one squadron of Longswords cleared the launch bay, and blue afterburner trails shimmered as they accelerated toward the planet.
After the squadron leader declared the area secure, swarms of Pelicans dropped out of the bay headed for the north pole of the planet. A second squadron of Longswords provided cover while the dropships pounded through the atmosphere. As the Pelicans approached the ground, black ropes dropped from the lead ships. Marines clad in white combat fatigues zipped down the lines and scrambled into the deep snow, seeking cover. They spread into a circle and searched the snow and rocks for any sign of a threat as the rest of the dropships landed behind them and disgorged thousands more troops and supplies. White camouflaged warthogs were disengaged from their couplings and troops jumped in each one, immediately taking off to secure a larger perimeter.
Within an hour, a command post had been set up in the center of a plateau surrounded by concentric rings of bunkers fabricated with instacrete and boasting 50 mm chain guns and mounted jackhammer emplacements. Snowfall covered every surface of the firebase in minutes, blending the newly constructed defenses in with the background.
A newly promoted Colonel Heines sat in front of a table in the command post, taking stock of inventory, while his advisors surveyed the surrounding terrain recorded by the Prometheus' sensors, and compiled them into a three dimensional holoprojection.
"Sir, if you could take a look at this..." one of his officers called his attention to a specific area near the equator of the planet.
Heines stood up and walked around the holoprojection, to the spot where the officer pointed.
"After sifting through the preliminary data recorded by the density resonance scans, this mountain chain here," he outlined the area with a laser pointer, "appears to be entirely hollow. The scans penetrated to a depth of one thousand meters, and then the scans reported a "floor" which the scanners were unable to penetrate. This means that the floor of this cavern is made of a very dense material, something very close in composition to the outer walls of the HALO rings."
"Another anomaly that the scans uncovered is that, while the cavers are hollow, they are not empty. That is, there is no air in them. Something more dense than air, about the same density as water, as near as we can tell." The officer looked up from his data pad. "I'll get on the horn to Section Three Command. We're going to need underwater combat equipment." The officer scuttled away to the communication section to make the necessary arrangements, leaving Heines to his thoughts.
A liquid storage facility, possibly... what the hell would it be doing on an artificial ice planet? Why isn't it frozen? Can it even freeze? Heines ran a hand through the projection, scattering the arranged light particles momentarily. He went back to his desk and began arranging an operation to the equator. He reflected that rearranging men and equipment was a real pain in the ass.
Forty eight hours later, eight Pelicans lifted off from inside the secure perimeter of the firebase. After all the data had been sorted and verified, another chain of hollow mountains had been found on the exact opposite side of the planet. A fire team would land and explore each mountain chain. Due to the horribly jagged terrain, warthogs could not be used. The search would be carried out the old fashioned way; on foot.
Fire team Alpha landed on the central mountain of the mountain chain designated MC1. Follow up scans revealed several "vents" located equal distances apart from each other on the peaks of the mountains. The fire team fast roped down to the snowy ground, and immediately spread out into covering positions. A flyover by several longswords pronounced the area clear; no enemy contact.
Corporal Chris Whol pried his helmet off. The damn thing itched like a son of a gun, and his faceplate de-fogger was all screwy. Why in the hell did I choose the high altitude training? Should've picked tropical deployment. He searched his pockets for the no-fog solution, fished it out, and sprayed a healthy amount onto his faceplate. Snuggling his helmet back down over his head, he picked up the duffel bag containing the submersible combat equipment
He trudged over to his Lieutenant, readjusting the grip on the heavy bag.
"Okay el-tee. Just where in the hell is this point of entry supposed to be?"
The Lieutenant looked up from his tac-screen and pointed to the southern ridge of the snow capped peak they had landed on. "Should be right on the other side of that ridge." He hit the unit com link. "All right everyone! Pack it out and let's go! Follow me."
And with that, had hauled up his equipment bag as if it was no more than a lunch tin, and started jogging to the ridge. The fire team followed suit, the scout elements scurrying from one patch of rocky cover to the next, covering the distance quickly.
Whol dropped over the ridge and skidded to a halt, barely in time to keep from toppling the lieutenant. The team was spread around a massive structure built into the tough ground. Columns rose from the ground and supported a roof four feet above the ground, keeping snow away from the entrance. Red lights pulsed gently, warning away from the hole in the ground. Whol knelt down and peered into the entrance, training his flashlight into the blackness. The liquid sloshed around the opening and reflected the light back at him.
"Readings?" the Lieutenant asked a marine next to him, who checked his meter.
"It's some water based solution, sir. A damn ocean of it. But the strange thing...."
"What? What is it, Private?"
"...Its just that...well, sir, its ionized."
"Ionized?"
"That's what it says."
Suddenly, static filled the team's comm. Channel. Then a voice came through.
"Fire team Alpha, this is fire team Charlie. Do you copy?
Corporal Whol keyed his mike. "We copy."
"We've found the strangest damn thing. The water at MC2...it's negatively ionized. Have you gotten to the vent yet?
The Lieutenant responded, "Yes we've got the same reading you do." He reached for the private's meter. "Except our readings are positive."
The radio crackled. "You want a theory?"
"I'd take anything at this point." The Lieutenant said in frustration. Ionized water didn't make any sense at all. But then, nothing could really explain an artificial planet, now could it?
"Nanotechnology."
Absolution Chapter III
Date: 24 July 2004, 3:24 AM
ABSOLUTION
CHAPTER III
Colonel Heines looked as his Executive Officer with skepticism. "Nanotechnology?"
"Yes, sir." The officer peered at his noted, organizing thoughts. "The planet is apparently a large Forerunner nanotech construction facility. The two storage tanks that we found in the mountains are holding tanks of charged ionized water based solutions. We surmise that, through the barrier which our sensors cannot penetrate, there is a nanotech factory that the Forerunner used to make war materials."
The Executive Officer, paused, and then felt it necessary to continue, as it was apparent that the Colonel had no idea what this meant. "Nanotechnology allows the constructor a way to make a material atom by atom. Since you obviously cannot sew or weld atoms together, a unique approach is needed. An object, such as glass, is dipped first in one solution, and then the other, then back again. What this does is allow the positively and negatively charged solutions to bond by sharing electrons. Simply put, the electron bond is virtually unbreakable. The Forerunner must have been able to make ships and armor that was impenetrable."
Heines leaned forward, his curiosity piqued. "So, we are sitting on top of a war factory capable of producing weapons eons ahead of our current technological understanding."
"It means," the officer stated with no little amount of anxiety, "That we have in our control a means to produce weapons eons ahead of the Covenant.
"Unbelievable." The Colonel breathed, absently touching the scars on his head. "You informed HQ?"
The executive officer nodded in the affirmative. "They have already dispatched an entire battle group for additional security, and the Office of Naval Intelligence has, of course come to assume control of the operation."
The Corporal scowled. He had no great love for the ONI, who seemed to care little for individuals, or even the success of military campaigns. They lived for knowledge and advancement of technology, not for protecting humanity. It was common knowledge by now the attempt to show the Covenant the way to earth by leaving an intact navigational database on an ONI ship in an orbital dock around Reach.
"So I am relieved of command." Heines said with finality. A short operation after all.
"Actually...no, sir. You're not. It seems that a certain..." he consulted his notes. "...Doctor Halsey has respectfully requested that you be kept in the loop."
________________________________________________________
The sky around the white planet, now dubbed 'Nano-Planet' by those who were assigned there, grew dark with the arrival of hundreds of ships. A Defense Battle Group consisting of twenty eight warships patrolled the system nonstop. ONI ships flitted about, ferrying scientists and operatives to and from the planet.
Dr. Halsey inspected the group of young scientists arrayed before her. "Welcome to the nano-planet. You've all read up on the events concerning your respective fields, so all I have left to say is, good luck, and Godspeed."
Colonel Heines stepped up to the front of the group. "For those of you descending into the planet, you will have a compliment of two marine guards wherever you go. We cannot risk losing any one of you to accidents. A waste of a mind is a terrible thing. Especially now. We need all the brainpower we can get, so lets not try to lose anyone here." He surveyed the group with his eyes, and slid back to his place along the wall.
On the way out of the room, Marines tagged along with their assigned 'protectees,' having been assigned them in advance. Satisfied that everything was going smoothly, Heines beckoned for Dr. Halsey to follow him, and together they left the room.
On the way to his office, Heines turned to face his new boss. "I was curious, Dr., why you decided to let me stay on."
"I am not an ONI-supremacist, Colonel. I believe that each service should leave the other to do their job. You and your men will provide protection, and my team and I will pry out whatever secrets this place has to offer."
Seemingly satisfied with this answer, Heines looked away, studying the patterns in the wall. "I thank you for your just decision, Dr. Apparently I was wrong about everyone at ONI being the slime balls that I made them out to be." His eyes caught a man trying to slip past them unobtrusively. "Ah, Corporal Whol. A good thing I ran into you. I'm sorry, but I have to assign you to other duties."
"And what assignment would that be, sir?" the young marine asked expectantly.
"You are hereby detailed to protect and assist Dr. Halsey in any way that you can, for the duration of this deployment."
"Thank you for the offer, Colonel, but that won't be necessary."
"No, really, ma'am. I insist-"
He was cut off mid-sentence by the ghostly silent appearance of a towering form in iridescent green armor.
Dr. Halsey turned to the new arrival, a little smile on her face. "I have all the protection I need."
_______________________________________________________
Corporal Whol nervously fingered the trigger guard on his MA5B assault rifle. Of all the damn luck...He had never imagined he would ever see a real life Spartan, much less be assigned duty with one. Of course, he didn't let his misgivings show. One major reason why he had lasted so long in the marines. He always masked his emotion, letting nothing through the walls he set up. He stayed completely cool under fire, never letting the fear get the best of him. His friends often said he would have made a respectable Spartan.
Mastering his emotions was becoming supremely difficult now, as he thought of the task at hand. He was standing outside the outer door of the air lock, awaiting his turn to go through. A complex had been set up over the several vents on the mountain peaks, allowing the scientists and their escorts to change into their submersible equipment inside, away from the cold.
The airlock cycled and Whol stepped inside, greeted by soft white lights and a sterile looking changing room. The door at the end of the room pulsed red. The marine set down his weapons and shed his winter utility uniform, trading them in favor of his underwater combat equipment.
When he finished, the door pulsed blue and popped open.
He stepped through, greeted by the menacing sight of the Spartan, who stood silent and immobile. Dr. Halsey was fiddling with her glove adjustments. Dressed in a scientists white underwater suit, she stood in stark contrast to the Spartan's dark green armor and Whol's own black combat suit.
Kelly. Dr. Halsey stole her away on the obsolete ONI vessel, and no one had heard of her since. The doctor kept their adventures a tight lipped secret, and no one tried to pry into them. It certainly appeared that Kelly was permanently assigned to the scientist.
Dr. Halsey hit a control on the panel in front of her, and the cover welded over the vent spiraled open, revealing the black depths of the holding tank. The scientist stood aside as the Spartan dove into the water. She sank immediately, and Whol could see her combat light swivel around as the warrior surveyed the depths. Dr. Halsey followed, easing into the water, neither hesitant or in a hurry. A woman of calculated measures, the corporal thought.
Whol jumped in after them, and he felt the skin of his combat suit press against him, and then pull away again as the suit compensated for the pressure. His faceplate fogged momentarily, then cleared, and a rolling list of electronics runtimes and self-checks scrolled over the transparent material. Self diagnostics completed, a heads up display appeared, showing oxygen/nitrogen mix, pressure, and time to empty. Ammunition on all weapons showed full capacity. Status normal.
The Marine decided not to use lights. Instead he opted for the underwater night vision, which hummed to life and washed everything in an ethereal bluish haze. Effectively invisible in the black water, he drifted after his companions. His FOF system showed three other teams descending from alternate vents. All headed toward the bottom.
Half an hour of steady downward drifting brought them to the bottom of the caverns. The floor was etched with intricate geometrical patterns, similar to those found on the HALO rings. Dr. Halsey consulted her data readouts, and found they were only a few hundred meters astray from their destination; another set of airlocks. Kelly led the way, propelling herself forward with short, powerful strokes. Under the water, a Spartan could move as fast as a torpedo. The cybernetic soldiers were as much at home here in the depths as they were on land, even if they did have a limited amount of oxygen in their suits.
The airlock gradually came into view, albeit at first it was only a hazy outline in the black water. The marine again took up the rear; training is MA5V backward as his legs took him forward. The underwater assault rifle variant was even more deadly than the original MA5B. Compressed air charges discharged titanium rings with razor edges at unbelievable velocities through the water. Though without explosive tips, the rings did terrible damage to living tissue and could slice through most underwater combat skins.
The Spartan was the first through the airlock, which cycled slowly, due to the immense pressures at this depth. Next was Dr. Halsey, followed by Whol, who didn't trust the structural integrity of anything quite this deep. The possibility of a collapse was a little too close to home for him. But he swallowed his misgivings and slipped into the airlock.
What greeted them on the other side was nothing short of astonishing.
Absolution: Chapter IV
Date: 30 July 2004, 3:55 PM
ABSOLUTION
CHAPTER IV
The airlock emptied onto a platform which projected a few thousand feet over....nothing. The edge of the platform melded with the air. The powerful spotlights trained outward past the end of the walkway didn't even come close to penetrating the all encompassing darkness. Several scientists scuttled about, immersed in their own problems. At the end of the platform were several viewing telescopes that were powerful enough to peer into the monstrous space.
Dr. Halsey strode to a hastily erected pressure building. The Spartan and Corporal Whol took up posts at the entrance. Once inside, she unlocked her helmet and pulled it off of her head. The "air" outside was not breathable. It was something resembling a vacuum, although trace amounts of some unknown element was present.
She downloaded the preliminary reports onto her glasses. The next hour was spent sifting through reports. The findings, even this early, were incredible. The planet was, in short, a gargantuan nanotech construction facility. Built by the Forerunner, there certainly had to be more drifting around in the galaxy. Many operations had been put on hold in order to find and capture as many of these floating factories as possible. Letting the covenant get their claws on one was explicitly out of the question.
The scientists had seen all there was too see literally minutes after the first telescopes had been brought down. The cavern was empty. Devoid of life, objects, even dust. The perfect nanotech working space. The main scientific push at this point was to find the control room. Several smaller hollowed out mountains were at this moment being searched by marines assisted by ONI scientists.
Once the control room was found, work could begin on finding out just how to work this planetary machine. When and if they got this nanotech factory working, they could delve into its secrets, secrets that could almost immediately make all threats posed by Covenant weaponry virtually nonexistent.
___________________________________________________________
A white coated scientist huddled over a microscope, watching with barely contained excitement as electrons attracted to each other and bonded. Bit by bit, atom by atom. The samples taken from both holding tanks were doing their jobs, unimpeded by lying dormant for millennia. Ever so slowly, an object began to form. The scientist sat riveted to the eyepieces for almost two hours. Finally, sleep overtook his excitement, and he left the electron microscope for the safety of his bed, five feet away from his workstation. When he awoke in the morning, he would have something amazing for Doctor Halsey.
_________________________________________________________
Fire team Charlie was on yet another mission. After two weeks of fruitless searches for the control room, this tunnel had the least promising look. After descending elevator shaft after elevator shaft, they had come upon a corridor that stretched for kilometers. Worn out and weary, they had been most surprised when they discovered the end of the corridor. The walls pulled away, and the ceiling stretched higher and higher above them. The massive door that stood in their way seemed to be the answer they were looking for. As the lieutenant approached the door, a green light pulsed and chimed softly. Slack jawed; he reached for his mike and keyed it.
"HQ, this is Fire team Charlie. We've found it."
__________________________________________________________
Colonel Heines stood on a raised platform and watched the hustle and bustle around him. Lab coats blurred around him, electronics sparked and warmed to life, he blocked out the commotion and concentrated his attention outside the enormous bay window that dominated the front of the control room. Even though there was nothing to look at, it was still beautiful. The vast emptiness reminded him of being on a warship in the deep of space.
"Ok, I think we got it! Translation algorithms up! Here we go..." the flurry of motion seemed to halt all at once. The spotlights were turned off, and now the only lighting in the large room was the glow of the holographic Forerunner controls.
"All right, let's see...." The scientist looked first at Dr. Halsey, and then at Heines. "What...what should I tell it to make?"
Heines turned around to face the man. "What are the options?"
"Well, this facility seemed to be geared mainly toward shipbuilding...though I can make virtually anything I tell it to."
The Colonel turned back toward the window and clasped his hands behind his back. "Let's tell it to make a space fighter."
"Ok, translating...entering data....done." The scientists looked up from his display. "Nanoconstruction commencing....now."
Everyone became deadly silent as a subtle blue glow enveloped the huge space. A space opened in the "ceiling" of the cavern, and the optics built into the bay window zoomed in millions of times to show the substrate that would begin the construction process. The minute substance was drawn to the center of the room by some invisible force, and then slits opened on both sides of the cavern. A light mist sprayed into the space, one from the positively charged holding tank, one from the negatively charged one.
The mist washed over the substrate, and the optics in the window showed an object beginning to form. It began slowly at first, but then the mist became more dense and focused. The assembled scientists and guards looked on in absolute wonder as layer after layer of solution formed around the growing object. And then the object began to gyrate and twist so more of the substrate formed on certain places. And gradually a shape began to emerge. Other slits in the walls of the cavern opened up, disgorging different solutions to form the different components of the craft. The process began to speed up, and the object grew increasingly complex.
The slack jawed wonder turned into downright drooling envy as the mists finally slowed, then halted completely. The blue glow in the chamber brightened, and the finished product was bathed in a cleansing light. The Forerunner space fighter was one of the most alien looking ships the assembled crowd had ever seen. The nose of the fighter was needle sharp, which formed into a sleek looking low slung cockpit. The wings curved gently forward and down, and looked as if they could be used in atmospheric conditions as well as space. The body of the ship was very aerodynamic, yet seemed large enough to house a formidable array of weaponry. The tail arched gracefully up at a slight angle. Behind the tail, where the exhaust should be...there was nothing. In fact, it looked as if the fighter had no engine at all.
The fighter rotated in the void, and drifted toward one of the many protruding platforms. It set down on one devoid of scientific equipment. After a few moments of silence, the scientists seemed to snap out of their trance. Several flat out took off back down the tunnel, their escorts jogging after them. Colonel Heines turned and slowly made his way back to the elevator shafts. HQ definitely needed to know about this right away.
Absolution: Chapter IV
Date: 30 July 2004, 3:55 PM
ABSOLUTION
CHAPTER IV
The airlock emptied onto a platform which projected a few thousand feet over....nothing. The edge of the platform melded with the air. The powerful spotlights trained outward past the end of the walkway didn't even come close to penetrating the all encompassing darkness. Several scientists scuttled about, immersed in their own problems. At the end of the platform were several viewing telescopes that were powerful enough to peer into the monstrous space.
Dr. Halsey strode to a hastily erected pressure building. The Spartan and Corporal Whol took up posts at the entrance. Once inside, she unlocked her helmet and pulled it off of her head. The "air" outside was not breathable. It was something resembling a vacuum, although trace amounts of some unknown element was present.
She downloaded the preliminary reports onto her glasses. The next hour was spent sifting through reports. The findings, even this early, were incredible. The planet was, in short, a gargantuan nanotech construction facility. Built by the Forerunner, there certainly had to be more drifting around in the galaxy. Many operations had been put on hold in order to find and capture as many of these floating factories as possible. Letting the covenant get their claws on one was explicitly out of the question.
The scientists had seen all there was too see literally minutes after the first telescopes had been brought down. The cavern was empty. Devoid of life, objects, even dust. The perfect nanotech working space. The main scientific push at this point was to find the control room. Several smaller hollowed out mountains were at this moment being searched by marines assisted by ONI scientists.
Once the control room was found, work could begin on finding out just how to work this planetary machine. When and if they got this nanotech factory working, they could delve into its secrets, secrets that could almost immediately make all threats posed by Covenant weaponry virtually nonexistent.
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A white coated scientist huddled over a microscope, watching with barely contained excitement as electrons attracted to each other and bonded. Bit by bit, atom by atom. The samples taken from both holding tanks were doing their jobs, unimpeded by lying dormant for millennia. Ever so slowly, an object began to form. The scientist sat riveted to the eyepieces for almost two hours. Finally, sleep overtook his excitement, and he left the electron microscope for the safety of his bed, five feet away from his workstation. When he awoke in the morning, he would have something amazing for Doctor Halsey.
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Fire team Charlie was on yet another mission. After two weeks of fruitless searches for the control room, this tunnel had the least promising look. After descending elevator shaft after elevator shaft, they had come upon a corridor that stretched for kilometers. Worn out and weary, they had been most surprised when they discovered the end of the corridor. The walls pulled away, and the ceiling stretched higher and higher above them. The massive door that stood in their way seemed to be the answer they were looking for. As the lieutenant approached the door, a green light pulsed and chimed softly. Slack jawed; he reached for his mike and keyed it.
"HQ, this is Fire team Charlie. We've found it."
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Colonel Heines stood on a raised platform and watched the hustle and bustle around him. Lab coats blurred around him, electronics sparked and warmed to life, he blocked out the commotion and concentrated his attention outside the enormous bay window that dominated the front of the control room. Even though there was nothing to look at, it was still beautiful. The vast emptiness reminded him of being on a warship in the deep of space.
"Ok, I think we got it! Translation algorithms up! Here we go..." the flurry of motion seemed to halt all at once. The spotlights were turned off, and now the only lighting in the large room was the glow of the holographic Forerunner controls.
"All right, let's see...." The scientist looked first at Dr. Halsey, and then at Heines. "What...what should I tell it to make?"
Heines turned around to face the man. "What are the options?"
"Well, this facility seemed to be geared mainly toward shipbuilding...though I can make virtually anything I tell it to."
The Colonel turned back toward the window and clasped his hands behind his back. "Let's tell it to make a space fighter."
"Ok, translating...entering data....done." The scientists looked up from his display. "Nanoconstruction commencing....now."
Everyone became deadly silent as a subtle blue glow enveloped the huge space. A space opened in the "ceiling" of the cavern, and the optics built into the bay window zoomed in millions of times to show the substrate that would begin the construction process. The minute substance was drawn to the center of the room by some invisible force, and then slits opened on both sides of the cavern. A light mist sprayed into the space, one from the positively charged holding tank, one from the negatively charged one.
The mist washed over the substrate, and the optics in the window showed an object beginning to form. It began slowly at first, but then the mist became more dense and focused. The assembled scientists and guards looked on in absolute wonder as layer after layer of solution formed around the growing object. And then the object began to gyrate and twist so more of the substrate formed on certain places. And gradually a shape began to emerge. Other slits in the walls of the cavern opened up, disgorging different solutions to form the different components of the craft. The process began to speed up, and the object grew increasingly complex.
The slack jawed wonder turned into downright drooling envy as the mists finally slowed, then halted completely. The blue glow in the chamber brightened, and the finished product was bathed in a cleansing light. The Forerunner space fighter was one of the most alien looking ships the assembled crowd had ever seen. The nose of the fighter was needle sharp, which formed into a sleek looking low slung cockpit. The wings curved gently forward and down, and looked as if they could be used in atmospheric conditions as well as space. The body of the ship was very aerodynamic, yet seemed large enough to house a formidable array of weaponry. The tail arched gracefully up at a slight angle. Behind the tail, where the exhaust should be...there was nothing. In fact, it looked as if the fighter had no engine at all.
The fighter rotated in the void, and drifted toward one of the many protruding platforms. It set down on one devoid of scientific equipment. After a few moments of silence, the scientists seemed to snap out of their trance. Several flat out took off back down the tunnel, their escorts jogging after them. Colonel Heines turned and slowly made his way back to the elevator shafts. HQ definitely needed to know about this right away.
Absolution Chapter V
Date: 3 August 2004, 8:20 PM
ABSOLUTION
CHAPTER V
Dr. Halsey sighed with exhaustion as she locked the collar on the helmet, mating it with the rest of the suit. Cool air gently brushed her face as the environmental systems kicked in. It had been a hell of a day and she was dead tired. The ancient Forerunner walls seemed to suck the life right out of her.
She absently rubbed her fingertips together as she made her way to the airlock, he two bodyguards in tow. Protection was never a bad thing. The doctor kept reminding herself. Although the Marine's usefulness in an unexpected situation would no doubt be completely nullified by the presence of Kelly.
Corporal Whol stepped into the airlock first, waiting patiently as the gadgetry hummed and the space slowly filled with water. He never really liked the water. Too many variables in an environment like this-
The hatch in front of him clicked open. He floated through, a cursory glance checking out the area. After surveying the front, he slowly turned around to await he arrival of Doctor Halsey. The airlock cycled again, and he could see the water rising past the window set in the glass. That's odd, he thought. There seemed to movement in the water behind him-
The Marine's feet propelled him several feet up and spun him around to face behind him. Training ingrained in his reaction time brought the muzzle of his weapon to bear. The form was dangerously close, and wielded a wicked looking needle in one hand.
Whol's finger clamped down on the trigger, and the rifle spat three razor sharp disks in front of a funnel of compressed air. The first disk sliced through the palm of the assailant's hand, destroying both the syringe and muscle. The second and third rounds tunneled into the attacker's neck and head, following the line the rifle traced as the startled Marine brought it around. The man's pressurized suit was compromised, and the crushing pressure crumpled bone and cartilage.
The Corporal scissored around to face the airlock again and shouted a warning to Doctor Halsey. The lady had just opened the outer hatch, and Whol saw a second attacker creep over the top of the airlock, knife in hand. Seeing its partner botch the assassination that would leave no suspicion of foul play, the second form dropped the unwieldy syringe and opted instead for a surer means of elimination.
The Marine saw that he didn't have time to swim over to the doctor's aid, but before he could raise his rifle to aim at the attacker, a green helmet slammed into the form's midsection, propelling it clear of the doctor. Before the man could recover, a gauntleted fist slammed into his facemask, effectively ending the struggle.
Without waiting to assess the damage done by her fist, the Spartan kicked her legs, and shot forward, straight at Whol. The Marine ducked and turned at the same time. Two more forms were nearly upon him, and mentally kicked himself for not watching his back. Mistakes like that had nearly ended his life before; it seemed he got lucky once more.
Kelly tore into the nearest attacker. This one was carrying a rifle not so different from the Corporal's it put a burst into the warrior's midsection, seconds before his life was torn out of his suit. The Spartan's shield's flared, illuminating the second form. Whol emptied the rest of the clip in one long burst of compressed air. The disks screamed through the water past Kelly's hip and shredded the attacker's torso.
Before the body finished its last death throes, Whol had ejected the spent clip and inserted a fresh one, and checked visually and his sensors both for more motion. The area was clear. Doctor Halsey had come up behind them, and was now examining one of the would-be assassins. The Corporal's com link hissed.
"An ONI hit squad." Halsey said, her words dripping with acid. "I should have expected something like this. That bastard Ackerson..."
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The Pelican screamed over the hills, invisible if not unheard in the darkness. The passenger seats protested under the weight of the tons of armor that sat atop it. Three Spartans checked and rechecked their gear, silent killers dedicated to their mission of vengeance.
The dropship gradually slowed down, then pulled up sharply, nullifying their forward velocity. The craft descended quickly and kissed the ground. As soon as contact was made, the Spartans were off the ship and into the night.
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Colonel Ackerson sat by his workstation, glued to the screen. He was impatiently awaiting word that the target had been taken out. I finally have that leech of a civilian off of my organization. Funding for his special weapons programs had been starving for money, fund that had been unwisely- he thought- spent on the SPARTAN program.
He leaned back in his chair, reluctant to get up and leave the workstation even for a second. The beach house was silent, the guards being as unobtrusive as possible. Waves crashed onto the shore, providing a comforting background noise. It also masked the stifled gurgles of the deaths of his loyal goons.
He nearly toppled off of his balanced chair when a heavy thud of combat boots sounded behind him. He stood up and turned around, an angry snarl on his face ready to tear the head off of whoever had disturbed him this late at night.
The snarl froze on his face as his blood ran cold. His Hawaiian shirt hung open revealing a belly borne of bad food and an ill temper which required beer to calm. A bad image to present to his killers.
Master Chief SPARTAN-117 stood before him, flanked by two more unidentifiable armored warriors. His mirrored faceplate reflected the shabby looking Colonel back to himself.
"Colonel Ackerson, you have been found guilty of treason against the UNSC and humanity, of consorting with the Covenant to gain your own ends, and for the attempted assassination of Doctor Halsey." The towering soldier's voice resonated through the room, drowning out the surf and vibrating inside the traitor's mind.
"The penalty for these crimes; death."
Before Ackerson had a chance to shout something, anything at the top of his lungs in defiance, the Master Chief raised a pistol and brushed the trigger. The single round caught the Colonel in the forehead. His eyes rolled back into his head and he fell back to the floor, dead.
Absolution: Chapter VI
Date: 5 August 2004, 1:16 AM
ABSOLUTION
CHAPTER VI
The staccato report of automatic weapons fire echoed in the nanotech facility. Cameras recorded the bombardment of tests the Forerunner fighter was going through. Right now, a platoon of marines was pounding the spacecraft with full auto fire.
The clips ran empty, and silence reigned once again. Scientists hurried forward to inspect the hull of the ship. Nothing. Not even a scratch. Dr. Halsey furiously typed notes into her data pad while she watched the close-up replay of the experiment. What was happening seemed illogical. Something else had to be going on here.
The doors behind her opened, and five jackhammer-toting marines stepped into the testing area. The data recorders were reset, and on cue, the soldiers opened fire. The missile launchers belched fire and smoke, and high speed cameras caught the impacts with beautiful clarity. Again, nothing. No, wait. Something happened. Dr. Halsey replayed the image on the screen, and upped the magnification. There. The magnified image showed the skin of the craft flexing and dispersing the warhead impact and detonation.
The size and force of the munitions brought in steadily increased. It was now obvious to everyone that although the skin of the fighter had a lot of give, it was unbreakable. Shaped charges made the impact area ripple like water. It was amazing to watch. Naval Intelligence specialists ran about, collecting and transmitting data. ONI had acquired one hell of a treasure trove.
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The next few months left the entire scientific and military community breathless. More ships were fabricated, as well as several heavy space based weapons and ground vehicles. Scientists built translation suites into the vehicles, and slowly at first the technology was reverse engineered, and the ships were made suitable for human use.
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Sweat rolled off Heines' nose. It fell to the ground and splashed into the dust. God I really hate this place. He thought for the hundredth time since his force landed on this miserable excuse for a planet. The sun loomed huge and unforgiving in the sky, and never seemed to set.
The sound of scorpion tanks thundering behind him in a never ending roar dulled his senses, threatening to drive him insane. He turned around and surveyed the land behind him. His force of ten thousand had been reinforced by an additional desert corps for this op.
Ever since ONI had managed to duplicate the Forerunner technology, every unit the UNSC could muster was on extended deployment. A major overhaul of weaponry and equipment made the equal fight on the ground severely one sided.
The Colonel looked down at his armor again, relishing the way it gleamed in the overbearing sunlight. The armor sheathed his entire body, with robust nanotech plates providing additional cover to the chest, forearms, thighs, hands, feet, and head. The material was silvery and was gentle on the skin, which every man no doubt appreciated.
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The Marine's eyes traveled from the body armor he wore to the decking of the warthog he rode on. Nanotech this, nanotech that. He thought, with mock irritation. Those ONI bastards will never let me have my fatigues back.
Corporal Whol was drumming over much the same things as Heines, though he was at the back of the formation, sitting on the side of a tank. He couldn't figure out for the life of him why ONI couldn't make the combat armor camouflage. The suits made them damn near invincible; that much was undeniable. But that didn't account for a whole lot if every enemy for a thousand miles saw you coming.
Suddenly over the next dune, the objective came into view. A massive covenant base. Jesus was the collective thought of all twenty thousand troops as the structures on the horizon got bigger by the second.
The scorpion tanks halted, pivoted, and fired their first salvo. The muzzle blast kicked up dust obscuring the tanks from enemy sensors. A second salvo was delivered, and then a third. The men on the tanks just hunkered down and waited. Some crawled under the tanks to find a safe spot to light a cigarette.
A half hour of solid firing devastated the outer walls of the Covenant base. The firing stopped, and the warthogs surged forward, faster and more agile than their heavy set counterparts. Massive treaded tired thudded over alien rubble and chain gun opened up on the few grunts who managed to survive the onslaught. The tanks finally reached the outskirts of the base and spread out, seeking targets of opportunity. The infantry hopped off of the tanks and split into four man squads to mop up the area.
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"Sweet mother of pearl!" a quad blast of plasma seared the wall where Corporal Whol's head had been an instant before. A shade turret was tracking him, and the outcome of his personal battle right now didn't look good. The new armor was impenetrable, so he was told. The marine learned long ago not to trust anyone who made anything and guaranteed them to be one hundred percent effective. It just wasn't smart to work that way.
The turrets swiveled on it anti-grav pods and fired a sustained burst. Whol dove out of the way, but not fast enough to dodge a bolt that slammed into his midsection. Expecting immense pain, he was stunned to feel an intense cool instead. He slammed into the ground and looked down at himself. The plasma was still dissipating, rivulets of it drooling to the ground. Ok, shit can definitely not get any weirder than this. He crawled against the base of a half destroyed wall and peered around the end.
The elite in the gunner's seat manipulated the control, searching out any more targets. Whol reached to his utility belt and unclipped two frag grenades. Yanking the pins, he let the spoons fly and counted to three, then hurled them in a tight overhand arc right at the turret. The elite saw the incoming and tried to crawl out of the seat, but it was too late. The grenades hit the turret, splashing into the plasma anti-grav pod, and detonated.
A fierce blue plasma fire enveloped the elite, charring the armor and flesh instantly.
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Heines hopped off of the command warthog, and strolled around the broken ground, surveying the carnage. The base was littered with smoking fires. Covenant carcasses littered the area, smoking from the immense firepower that chewed through their now outclassed body armor.
He looked up as a flight of sleek Forerunner fighter-bombers screamed overhead, scouring the area around the base for runaways and stragglers. Pelican dropships fell from the sky, disgorging more troops and supplies. Gleaming machinery pushed away the rubble, and construction crews hopped off arriving maintenance tugs in preparation for rebuilding the base in a more human fashion.
The Colonel looked out at the horizon, the dominating sun burning a path through the night. It was time for the UNSC to take the offensive, and the future looked very bleak for the Covenant indeed.
Absolution: Final Chapter
Date: 6 August 2004, 11:39 PM
ABSOLUTION
CHAPTER VIII
"You will smash the entire area!" the gunny screamed at his men, who were securely strapped in to the buffeting Pelican. "This is not a surgical mission. This is not a situation which requires the least bit of discretion in the way you use your weapons. Destroy anything in your path that is not human." The marine had a fierce look in his eyes. The look of a man finally allowed to fight.
The sky around the descending dropships was ablaze with plasma fire. The underbellies of the Pelicans deflected the incoming shots with impunity. The few plasma trails that landed on unarmored parts of the hull failed to do enough damage to render the craft useless.
The dropships plowed through the dense forest, splintering trees with their immense velocity. Engines whined in protest as they struggled to slow downward momentum. Fighting against gravity, the back blast scorched the forest floor, incinerating leaves, bushes, and Covenant air defenses.
"GO! GO! GO!" the sergeant yelled, hustling his men onto the blackened forest floor. The first men out of the dropships sprayed the edge of the drop zone with thunderous suppression fire. The thick foliage wilted under the weights of nano-jacketed bullets, coughing up neon blood, revealing the places where their enemy lay in wait.
The marines dropped to the ground and reloaded while those pouring out of the ships behind them fired over their heads. The constant rate of heavy fire was sure to destroy anything that might try to jump them. The Pelicans dusted off, leaving the platoon on its own. As they pulled out of the treetops, the men spread out and started off through the forest. Their improved armor blended nicely with the surrounding foliage. The armor had been tarnished and repainted with digitally enhanced camouflage to break up their outlines.
The "smart" armor sampled the environment it was in, and reproduced the pattern and color accordingly. Not quite as good as the elite's active camo, but what the chameleon paint lacked in total stealth, the suit more than made up in durability.
The gunny was on point, assault rifle at the ready, finger on the trigger. If a leaf so much as twitched the wrong way in a gentle breeze, anything behind it was sure to get cooked. His marines were spread out behind him in a wedge formation, constantly checking to their front and sides. Their orders were to recon the area, but the primary goal was to kill as many of those Covenant bastards as they could.
A faintly outlined object dropped from the branched above the men on the left flank. It crashed into one soldier, sending him sprawling. The men next to him pivoted and fired at the racing object. Thermal scanners in their goggles clicked to life and the once invisible object was seen clear as day. The camouflaged elite dodged and weaved, avoiding most of the round tossed at him. One wrong move cost the alien its life. A marine on the other flank fired his grenade launcher. The high explosive round caught the elite in the head, lopping the front of its face clean off. Purple blood spouted from the jagged hole like a fountain, tainting the ground. The body toppled over, lifeless.
As the soldiers watched the spectacle, several more elites jumped from cover and launched themselves at the formation. One golden elite wielded a plasma sword, which caught one unlucky marine in the armor gap between his shoulder and helmet, slicing his neck in two. As he collapsed, the armor pinched the blade, dragging the elite down with the weapon. A hail of bullets tore through its body and it twitched as the blood drained from a thousand holes.
A medevac was called immediately. The enraged men spread out in a circle around their fallen comrade and emptied clip after clip into the forest. They spread out from their positions, shooting at anything that dared move.
The Pelican dropped through the trees and the man was hauled onboard. A crate of clips was pushed out at the craft ascended back into the sky. The marines were called back to reload and reorganize. Then they resumed the hunt.
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Corporal Whol hung on to the mounted machine gun for dear life as the driver tore around a bend in the river. A ring of confused and frightened grunts squealed as the warthog slammed into their midst, sending several to mangled, bloody deaths. Whol swung the gun around on its mounts and opened up. The bullets impacting on the water threw up trails of spray as he expertly walked the round onto his targets. The spraying water mixed with covenant blood as chunks of flesh were gouged out of the alien bodies.
He stopped firing as a second warthog rounded the bend and its own gunner took over the target shooting. Whol turned back and aligned his barrels over the head of the driver. The heavy tread on the warthog's tires threw up an amazing amount of water in two long rooster tails.
Search and Destroy missions. My kind of operation. There were few things the marine loved more than an honest-to-god turkey shoot. Military high command had deployed a large portion of available forces to randomized S&D missions wherever and whenever the Covenant were found. No real valid strategic objective other than projecting UNSC military power far and wide, and stabbing fear into the minds of the Covenant, and throwing them off balance while human forces gained fresh blood and upgraded armor and weaponry.
The driver wheeled the recon vehicle into another tight turn at top speed, jarring the corporal's senses. Soon enough, the UNSC would have enough manpower to begin planetary takeovers. When that phase was reached, all the rules would change. Whol was ready to take the fight to the Covenant's doorstep, and it seemed that day was fast approaching.
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