 |
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
|
|
|
Forsaken Forefathers by AlphaBravo343 and Havok
|
Forsaken Forefathers: The Beginning of the End?
Date: 2 May 2003, 4:07 AM
Note: This is the series in continuation of the Death from Above series. Havok and myself will be collaberating to write this series and make it as enjoyable as possible.
1845 Hours, January 26, 2552 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Fort Republic, Dallas, Texas. Earth
The Master Chief and his invincible army had swept through the lower United States, meeting only minimal resistance. The Covenant forces were spread thin across Earth, and had generally focused on keeping their troops out of the way of the huge attack force. He pondered what the Covenant would do, if they would try to evac their remaining forces....or if they would try something sinister.
In the following days, the Chiefs' worst fears had come true, and the Covenant launched an assult on Earth. Not just any assult, but an assult force larger than had ever been amassed by any one race in the history of the universe. They landed, how they slipped that many transport ships through the defense net was unknown. The Covenant army swarmed over the plains, creating a thundering that could be heard for a hundred miles. Elites roared out battle cries in their native tounges. Grunts and Jackals swarmed like insects, and Hunters lumbered through the crowd, also letting out thundering war cries.
The Master Chief shuddered as he looked on the horde from atop a large hill. To his sides and in the outlying land in front of him were four Scorpion tanks, mounted .50 caliber machine guns, Several Batttalions of UNSC Marines, Two Divisions of ODSTs' and one hundred SPARTAN-IIs'. Despite the enormous force he had to work with, he feared that it would not be enough to stem the Covenant this time. This was the basic remnant of the human miliatry, if this failed, Earth would be vulnerable to the Covenant for plundering....and destruction of humanity's base origin planet at their self-righteous whim.
The .50s opened up and cut down wave after wave of the soldiers, the Scorpions launched a salvo of cannon fire into the midst of their ranks. Covenant soldiers were thrown in wild arcs from the explosions, limbs and blood splattered and rained down on the still charging forces.
A moment later, the Covenant plowed into the firing ranks of Marines. Their tenacity and bloodlust had warped their minds. They literally started tearing limbs off of the Marines not lucky enough to fall back. Pretty soon, they had mixed into the entire UNSC army, and scattered battles were rampant, and in close quarters. The Chief gunned down a foolish Elite, it had been roaring in the center of the battlefield, until he sent a 5.7mm round through its' throat. It crumpled into a growing pool of its'own blood. He looked around at the battle, it was like a battle between the Romans and another 'barbaric' army. The forces on both sides were fighting close together, sometimes hand-to-hand. It wasn't going well, the Covenant had cut their numbers in half, except for the Spartans, they were in their element, and waging as fierce of a war on the Covenant as the Covenant was on them.
The Massive ships rocketed through space, passing the star system that the humans called 'Alpha Centauri' They had returned from the deepest reaches of space, to find their plans thrown to the wind. To find their children, their creations, waging war on one another. They were coming to avenge those who had been oppressed, those who had been slaughtered, those who were their own descendants.
A large shadow loomed over the battlefield. The Master Chief peered up through the clouds, and his blood ran cold at what he saw. Four giant covenant flagships were moving into position to glass the planet. They were in position just over the battlefield. All of the sudden, the fighting stopped. The Covenant and humans were staring at the giant ships in very tight orbit. He watched as motes of red light collected along their lateral lines. Watched as the plasma bolts grew and prepared to launch. And nearly fell to the ground when all four of the flagships detonated simultaneously. He was confused, the UNSC couldn't do that with the weapons they had, they could barely get through flagship shielding. And he was confused and amazed as ships moved into orbit. They weren't Covenant, and they sure as hell weren't UNSC. They easily quadrupled the largest UNSC carrier, and doubled the largest Covenant vessel. They had large beam cannons along their sides and fore decks. He saw them strobe at another Covanent vessel, and the concentrated beam cut through the Covenant ships' shield and through its' decks as if it were cutting through air.
Both sides still stood in awe and wonder as thousands of drop pods entered Earths' atmosphere and landed in the ground amidst the Covenant forces. For a moment, the pods simply sat in place, smoke hissing from their shells. They were vaguely reminiscent of ODST drop pods, but easily four feet taller. In the blink of an eye, the door of the head pod vaulted outward, crushing several Jackals. And a humanoid figure jumped from the darkness inside the pod. Its' armor was irridescent green, and seemed to have the same strange patterns engraved into it that Halo had in some of its walls and structures. The figures' armor looked like Spartan armor, but with several noticeable differences. It was rigid, with sculpted forms for the wearers' muscle structure, it had white lights on several points across the surface, and it was roughly nine feet tall. As the 'Spartan' jumped from the pod, it raised a large rifle that had glowing lines along its' sides, a large magazine that curved out from the butt of the weapon, which was a deep grey color. The soldier raised its' arm, pointing at the Covenant soldiers, and shouting in its native, but familiar tounge, to open fire on the Covenant. It raised its' weapon and fire colored beams lanced out of its' muzzle at a fast rate. The beams that spewed from its barrel cut large holes in the Covenant soldiers, cutting through several targets before dying out.
There's no way, the Chief thought, No way in hell
These couldn't have been who he thought they were. According to the data he had learned from Cortana, they should have been extinct thousands of years ago.
The soldiers made short work of the Covenant soldiers, losing only one of their number. The leader strode up to the Master Chief. He noticed the gold-plated Eagle that was on its right pectoral plate. It stood in front of him, and he seemed inferior instantly. It removed its' green helmet and the Chief was shocked to see that it was human. It was of the origin of an ancient race however. It had high cheek bones, dark olive skin, and a square and powerful jaw. The Chief removed his own helmet and extended his hand. The man extended his own and took the Chiefs' hand with a firm grip, he could tell that the man could have lifted and thrown him halfway down the hill if he desired. He exerted a sense of power and ancient wisdom. Finally, he spoke to him in English.
"Greetings, I am Tukara, Commandant of the military forces of the race you call the 'forerunner'," it said in a deep, accented voice, "We learned of our creations and children at war, and came as fast as we could."
The Chiefs' face contorted in confusion and he spoke back, "I am John, SPARTAN-II number 117." he opened his mouth again to ask Tukara a question, but he replied before the words escaped the Chiefs' mouth.
"Several millenia ago, we were a race known as the Aztecs, we advanced rapidly in technology and left this world to explore and discover what secrets lie in wait among the stars," he continued, "We created the races that comprised the 'Covenant', The Onrra, Prophets to you. The Kinron'ku, Elites. The Maudrene, Hunters. The Nef'tik, Jackals. Moont'uk, Brutes. And the Londrik'tu, Grunts. We origionally intended for the races to unite with yours to form an invincible empire, however, when the Covenant learned that you directly descended from us, they decided to destroy you. This would leave tha galaxy open for their maniacal doings. We have come back to aide you, and to stay with you." He finished his breathless speech. He grew silent and waited for the Chief to reply.
"Well, I appreciate your help, and I see that you can certainly handle yourselves well in combat," at that note, Tukara grinned, "But what about the rest of the Covenant?"
"The rest?," he pondered that for a few seconds, "We will kill all those within the Covenant that oppose us, and begin rebuilding."
At that very moment, the Chief felt an odd kin-like connection to the giant man in front of him. He had met the forerunner. He had met someone who was at home on the battlefield. He had met a brother in arms far more advanced and skilled than he. He had met the answer to his prayers. He had met his forefathers.
To be continued...
Foresaken Forefathers Part Two: Righteous Rebirth
Date: 13 May 2003, 3:21 AM
Together, the remnants of Humankind and the Forerunner began the process of reconstruction. Earth, once a lush paradise of green and blue, was now charred and blackened from the long months of war. The top UNSC military commanders had doubted that anything could ever live for a sustained period of time with the planet's depleted resources.
They, however, had greatly underestimated the godly power of the Ancients. From the great warships in orbit, thousands of large, spherical glass balls were ejected out into the atmosphere. From some unknown power source, they kept a stationary orbit just inside the stratosphere. The Forerunner scientists had informed the human command structure that the balls were replenishing the atmosphere that had been burned away from the low-orbit naval gunfights that had taken place over the last weeks. The ozone, after hundreds of years of decay, was being rebuilt; toxins were being absorbed through filters in the glass spheres and neutralized.
On the ground, great machines tilled the land as far as the eye could see. Landscapes that had been glassed over by covenant weaponry were being rejuvenated and oxygenated by the machines. They also injected nutrients into the soil that greatly increased the growth rate of flora and fauna.
Human cities, devastated worse than the firebombing during World War Two, were being cleaned away. Huge mountains of twisted metal and concrete littered the countryside, cleaned away by huge Forerunner robotics. The robots had eight legs, and four great arms, each molded into some unknown tool. The machines cleared away the rubble that were once vast human cities, containing populations of several hundred million. The rubble was heaped up, and then loaded onto mammoth cargo shuttled, which ferried the waste into orbit. Once in orbit, the trash was ejected from the ships on a trajectory intersecting the sun.
In the place of the old human cities, a new wonder arose. Forerunner architects and technicians rode shuttles down to earth and picked out the sites for a new Empire's cities. The great plains were left to the animals of earth. The Forerunner chose other, stranger locations for their cities. Tall, graceful spires reached up out of deep canyons, enormous buildings stretched for mile underground, and the capital of the Human/Forerunner Empire was a sprawling, flowing metropolis constructed on the floor of the Atlantic Ocean
The UNSC military was upgraded enormously; weapons technology advancing several hundred generations. Projectiles were all but thrown away, in favor of the devastating power of Forerunner laser technology. All UNSC ships were completely overhauled. New beam cannons were added, as well as much more precise gravity drives and navigation equipment.
Now the average Marine wielded firepower equivalent to a scorpion tank, and armor almost equal to MJOLNIR. The Spartans themselves were equipped with Forerunner armor suits. These were different colored than those worn by Forerunner troops to differentiate between them.
The human population of earth before the Covenant attack had been somewhere in the vicinity of eight billion. After the last remnants of the covenant soldiers had been wiped off the face of the planet, humans numbered just above four billion. Billions upon billions of innocents had been executed. Of the five billion who had been conscripted into the military, only a scant few lived to tell about it. With all of her colonies extinguished by covenant fire, four billion humans had survived to this point in time. Four billion, compared to the hundreds of billions who had been alive before the war.
Through the greatly superior forerunner technology, the human defense forces were bolstered almost beyond comprehension. Fast grown clones replaced the haggard but determined forces defending earth. These soldiers were built by forerunner geneticists to be the perfect combatant.
Unwavering under enemy fire, smart, fast, and deadly, these were the first wave of human shock troopers. Thousands were spawned each day, with basic military training and discipline already ingrained into their bodies. One could see the troopers muster for parade ground inspection, assembled into ranks as far as the eye could see. Hundreds of millions of shock troops in black uniforms, menace in their eyes.
New and powerful combat cars and tanks churned the earth and mighty ships swept around the planet in close orbit, ready to take on its military cargo. This force was being assembled, and the fight was now going to be taken to the Covenant.
Earth bulged to the seams with humans. But these were humans were ready to fight. A military force the human race has never before seen has risen up from the ashes that were earth. They will defy the Covenant onslaught, and emerge victorious.
Forsaken Forefathers part III: Unexpected Annhialation
Date: 26 May 2003, 4:10 AM
0320 Hours, April 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Carrier Achilles in distant orbit over Covenant occupied planet
"Gentleman, We are here today to deliberate the manner in which we will strike the Covenant planet below," said Admiral Sabian as he sat in his padded chair at the head of the long conference table. Around him sat the Forerunner military leaders and Human Admirals. "Here is an overview of the situation groundside, The Covenant have occupied three regions across the surface of the planet. Two land factories and one large harbor. The two factories just got up and running twelve days ago and haven't begun real construction yet, the harbor, on the other hand, is a different story." The Admiral clicked a button on the tac pad in his hand and a holographic display of the Harbor and its surrounding area flickered to life in the center of the table. In the hologram, there were hundreds of Covenant ships hovering above the water. Small hovercrafts moved in between them and large cargo and repair arms jutted from the large docking pads next to each ship.
"The harbor is one of the pivotal docking stations for the Covenant fleet. Over one-thousand ships come in and out of this station each week. I need your thoughts on how we should attack. The planet is able to sustain a large population. So, do we destroy the planet?, initiate bombing raids?, or send an invasion force?"
"I think we should initiate surgical air strikes on the stations," replied Commandant Tic'ondrel, "If the planet can sustain a population, then we can do so when this is all over."
"No good, they could have defenses up that we don't know about. I recommend bombardment from orbit," retorted Admiral Miller.
After thirty minutes of bickering and complaining, Admiral Sabian was becoming irritated. If something was going to be decided, it needed to be now. "All in favor of the air strikes?" hands raised all around the table, "All in favor of the bombardment,?" a handful of the leaders raised their hands. "Air strikes it is then. They will begin at..." he looked at his watch, "0360 hours, dismissed."
He watched as the men filed out of the room. He walked over to his personal tac display and began making the necessary preparations for the attack.
__________________________________________________________
Zimik glanced out of the porthole next to his work station on the ridge above the docking harbor. The blue ocean spread out as far as he could see. His eyes drifted down until they fell upon the large cruisers and battleships hovering above the water. He sighed and turned back to his holo sensor screen. He was part of the sensory outpost crew of four, three grunts and an elite. He looked over at the grunt in the personal station next to his. The grunt was toying with its plasma pistol until the top popped open and the small energy core was exposed. Zimik chuckled as the core, exposed to the oxygen, liquified and poured onto the grunts' workstation. The grunt yelped in suprise and scrambled for the small freon container mounted on the wall at the rear of the room. Instead of help, the grunt only got jeers and snickers from the other grunts. The grunt flicked the switch on the containers' handle and freon spewed onto the station, cooling the plasma and coating the wall behind the station.
"Good job," said one of the grunts sarcastically as it turned back to its station.
The grunt dropped the empty container to the floor and hobbled back to its seat. Zimik looked back at the display and his eyes splayed wide. The entire fore area on the sensor screen was covered in blips. Zimik ran to the elites' office, panting as he stopped in the entrance.
The elite growled and removed its hooves from the desk. "What is it?" it snorted.
"There are multiple targets on the sensors heading for the harbor!" Zimik shouted.
"Hold on there," replied the elite calmly as it reached for the holographic operations log on the desk, "There is a flight of Seraphs coming in from the north production factory. Nothing to worry about," said the elite as it returned to its slumber.
Zimik sighed as he walked back to his station and plopped into his chair. I've got a bad feeling about this, he thought as he remembered how bored he was. This is going to be a long day...
The sleek Forerunner Phoenix bombers screamed over the water, flying lower after the Covenant had detected them initially. The main land became visible on the horizon and quickly, the starships appeared, hovering above the water. No Covenant fighters were in the air, they had achieved suprise.
The entire harbor sprang to life right after the first of the mini warheads streaked into the open deck of a Cruiser, and detonated, crippling the large ship and dipping the bow toward the water. The strange fighters slipped and swerved in between the large ships, firing their laser weapons at the exposed decks of the ships. Zimik had walked down to one of the docking stations next to a Covenant frigate, and when the fighters began their suprise bombardment, he sprinted onto one of the open decks of the ship. All around him ships were detonating in huge balls of blue flame as their plasma cores cracked open, feeding the flames with super-heated plasma. Some of the fighters he could discern as human, fired their chain cannons' projectiles at some of the remote gun emplacements on the decks of the ships. He saw an elite fall from a gun emplacement and he scrambled behind a group of grunts for the turret. He was about four meters behind the group as they were dismembered by a burst from a human fighters' guns. He stared, dazed for a moment and was brought back to reality abruptly by an explosion inside the ship across the docking station, he watched as the center of the ship bulged and gave, sending chunks of the hull in wide arcs from the severed ship.
He clambered into the seat of the turret and charged the plasma core. He sighted one of the foreign fighters and squeezed the triggers. Plasma spewed from the twin barrels at the fighter, and it dipped to avoid the stream. It came about toward Zimik and its chain cannons opened up, one of the small projectiles cracked the plasma core and the turret erupted into a ball of furious nuclear fire. Zimik was consumed by the blast.
Several Seraph fighters launched from the airbase a few miles away from the harbor and rushed headlong into the fray. A Longbow fighter dropped in behind one of the seraphs and opened up with its chain cannons. The tracer rounds whizzed past the nimble fighter and it went into evasive maneuvers. The Longbow stayed with it however, and the bullets found their mark, ripping the fighter into three smoldering pieces that spun toward the water. Soon after that, the Covenant realized that they had lost the installation and surrendered to the Human and Forerunner forces.
Admiral Sabian surveyed the smoking harbor, saw some of the broken and destroyed ships sitting halfway out of the water. He looked out over the water at the hovering Forerunner ships and the small prisoner transports ferrying POWs' to the ships. A complete victory, a world wiped clean of the Covenant. This would serve as a message to the remaining Covenant troops, that their days were numbered.
To be continued...
Foresaken Forefathers Part Four- Rendezvous
Date: 28 May 2003, 9:08 PM
'Zprazdny sat at the controls of his Phoenix Fighter Bomber, in a deep state of meditation. The AI in control of the assault force was guiding his and his squadron's spacecraft to the rendezvous point. For the time being, he had nothing to do, and so was looking into his past.
His mind shimmered and his long raven black hair fell across his face as his head sank lower in front of his body. His fiery red irises faded to black and spiraled open, admitting the mind to inner thought. In his mind's eye he saw his home world. He saw his family, kneeling around their shrine to the Sun God. From the sun, his people had drawn their immense power, and all homage must be paid. He saw his soul mate and their children. And he could see that they were happy.
They were happy because the Sun God had told them that they were to be reunited with their long lost brother race. They had spawned from the same planet, and now they were in grave danger. And so the great Forerunner military, long kept dormant, was reinitialized. The Ancients had sought refuge from the flood in an alternate universe, but now they must go back. They must return to save their brothers.
This last image brought 'Zprazdny out of his meditation. His black irises, wide open with the concentration of inner thought now spiraled closed, and his pupils glowed like burning embers as he sat straight in his cockpit seat.
He checked his tactical display, reaffirming that his forces were in order. He submitted an inquiry to the AI. A few seconds later, text scrolled across his man screen. They were two hundred million kilometers out from the rendezvous point. ETA was ten minutes.
The pilot's fingers danced across the holographic displays as he silently alerted the other men under his command to come to full alert. This would be one of the most important missions since his days as a young novice fighting the flood almost five hundred years ago. On this mission, they would be surprising a very clandestine meeting of the most important species in the Covenant caste system. Out here, far away from any prying eyes, was the meeting place of the Covenant Prophets.
It was here that they conferred with each other and drew up to battle plans for their holy wars. 'Zprazdny's eyes blazed brighter as he thought of the treacherous crimes these beings had committed. Their main objective was to destroy the Hand of God. This ship would be carrying the Minor Prophets in control of the lesser Covenant worlds. Their secondary objective would be to disable the Mind of God.
Once this was achieved, an assault transport would jump into the area and attempt to take control of the ship. Even for the Forerunner, this would not be an easy task, these Prophets were powerful, and their contingents of Holy Guardians never left their sides even for a moment. That ship would be crawling with the meanest and best-equipped bunch of elites in the galaxy.
'Zprazdny signaled the other fighters that they would shortly be in range. A combat mask snaked down from the ceiling of the craft and secured itself to the pilot's face. The chair morphed and molded itself around its precious cargo, forming an airtight seal with the mask. The cockpit was vented of atmosphere, and missiles and laser pods were extended outside the hull. The Phoenix was ready.
A volley of blasts struck the Hand of God in a full broadside, nullifying the shields. The Minor Prophets looked on in utter silence. It was no use to run around screaming. Their time had come. The second and third volley of anti-matter warheads struck the unprotected hide of the Covenant Super Cruiser. Purple armor plated boiled away and bulkheads shattered. The great ships shuddered and writhed. Wrenching deck plating and ruining structural integrity. The plasma core burst open and detonated in a brilliant ball of alien fire. The Hand of God was destroyed.
The night was alive with purple pulse laser fire and the deep red strobes of Forerunner answering fire. The meeting, though very secret, was not unprepared for an attack. Eighty seraphs swarmed around the larger Forerunner Phoenix fighter-bombers, trying to score a kill. The Mind of God was firing blindly into the fray with pulse lasers and plasma torpedoes. The six escort destroyers were giving everything they had; every weapon was firing. Three of the destroyers simply stopped firing, their fire control grids melted down.
The two hundred and thirty Phoenix fighter-bombers danced and weaved around the overwhelmed enemy. The seraphs were no match for the vastly superior Forerunner craft. The few shots they did manage to land on the spacecraft did little damage, as there was no crucial atmosphere to vent or start fires.
The three remaining operational destroyers took volley after volley of the potent anti-matter missiles. One of the junior pilots in 'Zprazdny's assault force boldly advanced too close to the destroyers and was consumed by the hellish detonation of a ship's plasma reactor.
'Zprazdny fought his way out of the entanglement of combat and searched his tactical display for the Mind of God. He kicked in full military thrust as he saw it sneaking away from the battle. A smaller set of weaponry slid out of the belly of his fighter. A red and blue aiming reticle danced over the purple glow of the huge ship's engines. The holographic icon pulsed, signifying a lock. 'Zprazdny tightened his grip on the trigger and the launch tubes spat twin bolts of fire. The smaller missiles jetted toward their target and impacted seconds later with a bright blue flash. The EMP shockwave shut down the alien power plant, leaving the enormous craft dead in space.
The other ships under his command finished off their targets and retargeted the Mind of God's weapons. These were systematically destroyed and soon the ship was dead in space. The signal was sent and the assault transport dropped out of Slip space amidst a brilliant blue glow. Its engines warmed and it closed with the Covenant ship.
This Battle To Be Concluded in Forsaken Forefathers- Boarding Action...
Forsaken Forefathers part V: Boarding Action
Date: 2 June 2003, 4:15 PM
0500 Hours, April 5, 2553 (Military Calendar)/
UNSC Spartan-117, John, On board of Covenant capitol ship Mind of God
The Chief waited for the eight Forerunner troops to step through the open doorway from the hangar of the Covenant ship. They were remarkable soldiers, and he had never seen any soldier fight with such quiet fury before. They had widley expanded his horizons on the perfect soldier. Now they were stepping through the door, and it slid shut.
"Alright, let's move out," spoke the Chief. He felt odd, commanding a squad of superiour soldiers, but it was the Forerunner Commandant that had suggested thet the Spartans be the team leaders.
The Chief glanced at the motion tracker in his HUD, contacts in the next corridor. The Chief held up a fist, signaling for the troops to hold position. He stuck his head around the corner and saw a lone grunt standing by a control panel, he pulled his head back around. This was strange, it felt wrong. He had a feeling that this night would be full of suprises.
He popped his head out again, and saw that the grunt wasn't alone anymore, a gold elite had stepped behind the grunt and spoke to it in their strange, mingled tounge. He motioned for the Forerunner soldier behind him to move up and fire on the elite, their weapons cut right through elites shields. The soldier moved to the corner and slowly leaned into the corridor, a second later, a gaping hole had been burned in the elites head. The grunt yelped in suprise and fumbled at its belt, trying to unclip its plasma pistol. The Chief fired his battle rifle once and the grunts' brain matter stained the wall behind it.
They moved into the corridor, past the corpses they had just made, and into a large chamber. Just as a squad of elites entered the chamber through the door opposite to the Chief. The lead elite let out a cry, alerting its comrades, and they opened fire on the Chief and his troops. They sprang into action, the Chief rolled to his left, firing his battle rifle into the chest of the lead elite. The rounds ricocheted off of its flaring shield and smacked into the head of the elite next to it. The Chief grunted as he came out of his roll and crouched, still firing. The rounds drained the elites' shield and sheared through its muscular chest. Its howl of pain turned into a soft gurgle as it fell to the deck. He lowered his rifle, and watched as one of the Forerunner troops engaged in hand-to-hand combat with the remaining three elites.
The Forerunner soldier was a blur of motion as it dodged the elites' strikes and gave a counter-strike for each missed blow. It struck an elite in the stomach and its shield immediatley fell, the elite clutched its stomach and doubled over, then its was thrown back by an uppercut landed by the furious soldier. Its skull was crushed by the blow and it fell backwards to the deck, dead. The soldier was still combatting the other two elites when a gold elite sprang through a door next to the Chief. He quickly clipped his battle rifle to his back and grabbed his shotgun. He leveled the weapon at the elites' chest and settled his finger over the trigger when it swung its plasma sword at him. He lunged back and the sword swung vertically up his body, missing him, but managing to cut his shotgun into two pieces. The Forerunner soldier behind him opened up with its rifle, tearing three holes in the elites' chest. It fell to the deck, twitched twice, and was still.
The other Foerunner soldier finished with the two elites, who now lay in a twisted mass of broken bones and twisted appendages. It scooped up its rifle and strode back to the Chief, gave him a small nod, and they began moving again.
After thirty minutes of clearing the winding corridors of the huge ship, they came upon a large door.
"It reads, 'Abandon hope all ye who enter here'," spoke one of the Forerunner soldiers behind the Chief, referring to the odd inscribing on the door. "It is the High Prophets' Courts, this is where they would reside if they were on board," continued the soldier.
The Chief looked back at them, they stood ready. They probably would have gone into the hands of the Covenant Monarch if instructed to. The Forerunner had taught the UNSC much about the Covenant caste system, the Monarch was the one above all, the Emperor so to speak.
We should wait for backup," said the Chief. The soldiers relaxed a little. He didn't dount their ability, but he didn't doubt a High Prophets' ability either. "This is the Master Chief, requesting backup, I'm at the entrance to the High Prophets' chamber," he said into the COMM channel.
Several minutes later, twenty more Forerunner soldiers and five more Spartans came storming around the corner where the Chief and his squad were waiting. The Commander of the Forerunner troops pressed through the small crowd of soldiers and stood in front of the Chief. The soldier was much more muscular than the already heavily muscled Forerunner troops. And across the Commanders' chest was a two headed eagle, wings spread, emblazoned in platinum. The soldier extended his hand and greeted the Chief.
"I am Zon'talin, Commander of the Third battalion of Forerunner soldiers, it is an honor to meet you," spoke the soldier in a deep voice.
"Thank you, let's get to work," replied the Chief. He turned and stepped toward the door. It slid open softly and gave way to a large,open chamber. Eight spotlights shone from somewhere above on eight figures standing silently and completely motionless. He only knew they were alive by the steady rise and fall of their chests.
The Chief zoomed in his helmet camera and examined one of the figures. They were elites, but the irridescent armor usually present on elites was missing. Instead, their thickly skinned heads were bowed. They wore robes that hung to below their waists from around their wrists, which were atop long swords made of an unknown alloy. Their waists were clad with loin cloths that hung to their ankles. They had long, tunics that splayed limply around the immediate area around their cloven hooves.
The troops fanned out in the room and targeted the silent soldiers. They prepared to open fire when a booming voice spoke from a dark platform in the center of the room.
"Who dares enter my sanctum?" the voice thundered, full of malevolent rage.
We are the human forces, come to take you captive, give up now and you will not be harmed," spoke the Commander, stepping forward. The elites came to life as he did, drawing their swords.
"You were foolish to come here, Zon'talin, you and your men will die here," the voice spoke and the elites charged forward. The room erupted into gunfire as the soldiers fired at the elites, bullets twanged off of some unseen armor beneath their cloaks. And they began to slash into the Forerunner ranks. One of the elites charged toward the Chief, he fired his battle rifle wildly at its chest, the bullets bounced off harmlessly and it continued its charge. It reached him ans swung its massive sword, the chief jumped to the side and swung his rifle at the elites' side. The rifle smashed into its' unprotected side. It howled and swung again, fueled by its' rage. He sidestepped again and the sword glanced a piece of his shoulder armor, the small piece clattered to the floor and the elite prepared a final strike. Its muscular arms brought the sword above its' head, flexing as they struggled to stop the backward momentum of the heavy bludgeon. It began its journey downward and the elite groaned as it helped the blade on its' way. The Chief braced for the blow, ready to die, and something strange happened. The elites' waist began to glow a firey red, the Chief saw the elites eyes grow and it went slack-jawed. It sowly began a howl and the Chief looked down to see what had happened. An energy sword had plunged into the elites stomach, and it swiped to the left, severing the elites' torso from its legs. The Commander stood behind it with energy swirling around his hand, it looked like fire, and concentrated itself toward his fingers. It had shaped itself into a twin bladed sword, much like the elites' plasma swords, but more advanced. The Commander gave the Chief a nod, and ran back toward the fray. The Commander struck another elite in the back with his energy sword, and was searching for another when an elite ran up behind him and swiped at him with its metallic sword. The blade came down and was stopped by the Commanders superior shielding, and then electricity surged out of the Commanders' shield and fell upon the attacking elite, burning its' insides and launching it several meters away, where it crumpled in a smoking heap of burnt flesh.
The battle was over, and the High Prophet hovered above the platform. Four Forerunner soldiers fell victim to the onslaught. The Prophet slowly floated down the ramp and up to the soldiers. All of them had their weapons trained on the Prophet, ready to fire if it moved in a precarious way.
"Hold your fire," said the Chief. The prophet looked at him in the way a prey looked at its' predator, knowing that its' life rested in the Chiefs' hands.
"You may have one here today, but your destruction is the will of the gods and we..." he was cut short by the Forerunner Commander-
"Your gods have abandoned you, your destruction is our will, and we will carry out your sentence with ruthless tenacity," said the Commander, his voice full of vengeance.
To be continued...
Foresaken Forefathers Part VI: Island Infiltration
Date: 19 June 2003, 1:08 AM
The night was humid and hot, the air buzzing with unseen insects. The black expanse of water shimmered with the reflection of the planet's seven moons as calm waves broke against the sandy beach. A grunt patrol relaxed in the surf, their tanks of super cooled methane letting them float lazily in the shallow water.
To one side of the beach, jagged cliffs rose straight out of the water for a thousand feet, a vertical impregnable barrier against any covert intrusion, in the unlikely event that some force had landed unseen by the Covenant armada in orbit.
To the other side of the beach, the mouth of a wide river yawned across a split in the beach, spilling fresh mountain water into the salty sea. A single light bridge spanned this gap, with a tower on either side, manned by sleepy grunts. The river stretched far inland, coming from the menacing looking mountain at the center of the small island.
It was from this river that the covert assault group made its infiltration. A Pegasus stealth ship had stole its way into the system, past the Covenant orbital facilities, and was now parked safely on the ocean floor a few hundred meters from the mouth of the river.
The infiltration unit was made up of four Forerunner spec ops soldiers. Genetically enhanced to maximize their stealth and skill, they were clad in the matte black stealth combat skins. These suits maximize speed and agility, while packing no weapons. When and if a stealth warrior came into a confrontation, the problem was always solved with bare hands and immense strength not immediately apparent in their compact forms.
Strung out in a loose and flexible formation, the stealths made their way up the river. Their suits morphed on demand into almost any form for any use. Now, eight feet underwater, the feet had elongated into flexible flippers. The air in the suit could be recycled endlessly without the need to take in more oxygen. With subtle but powerful kicks, the silent warriors sped up the river against the current, their movement making not the slightest ripple on the calm surface.
Their objective lay up the river two kilometers, in a sheltered grove by the river. In that grove was the back entrance to a very extensive and secure Covenant installation. ONI had been trying to find some Covenant intelligence gathering devices of any kind-except the tracking device placed on the Iroquois during the battle for Sigma Octanus. Their hard work and endless efforts had proved to be fruitless, until now.
A combined effort between the Human and Forerunner intelligence services had brought a number of likely candidates for a Covenant intelligence gathering operation. This paradise planet had been at the top of the list for an Intel recon mission. The amount of scrambled radio traffic coming from this planet suggested very valuable information, seeing as the Covenant almost never scrambled transmissions.
The unit's main objective was to find the main computer system and download all available information to disk. This was easier said than done, as the complex stretched underground for untold kilometers in all directions.
The warriors came to a drifting halt at the bend in the river where they could see the back entrance. It was guarded by a lone grunt on a shade turret. The little alien was napping, his snores muffled by his breathing apparatus, but still audible to the keen hearing of the stealths.
The intruders silently stepped from the water onto the bank, careful to not splash around with their flippers. As they stepped onto the sand, the flippers molded and faded back into the soft rubberized soles of the combat suit.
The approach to the entrance was a little tricky due to the overgrowth of vegetation and the sheer number of things that could spell disaster for the mission. Each step was carefully sought out and planned, but done at a surprising speed.
They unit was almost upon the sleeping grunt when the point man stopped short suddenly, his body tense. His had clenched into a fist, and his teammates froze. The leader backed up a step and triggered the thermal imaging system in his helmet. He knelt slowly, and spotted the danger.
A razor thin shaft of infrared energy was being beamed across his path. The energy beam was so thin that it was virtually invisible even with the thermal imagers. He stands back up slowly and spots another one at waist height, and then one at eye level. An energy fence, wired to the security system. Tricky.
The point man backed up, signaled to his comrades, and jumped ten meters straight up and over the fence, landing behind the shade turret without a sound. His team followed him seconds after. One was tempted to kill the sleeping grunt, but they decided to let him sleep, content in his own oblivion.
The corridors stretched for miles, and just about the only thing going for the infiltration team was that the halls were dimly lit and that they hadn't been spotted yet. A quick hack into a data port on the wall brought up a holographic map of the interior. The main computer system looked to be three corridors over and two levels down. After a split second hesitation, the lead stealth took off in a blur down a side passage, headed for a nearby elevator shaft.
The three other stealths streaked after him, every so often, on would pause momentarily and affix a clear sticky membrane onto the wall at a corridor junction. These were cameras, feeding valuable optical information back to the Pegasus ship, where two Forerunner technicians sat tracking the progress of the infiltration.
At a large junction of hallways, the stealths split up, each taking a corridor, the timetable was running short, and they needed to get out of the facility sooner rather than later.
The last stealth reached the main computer mainframe. As he approached the doorway, the doors slid open, revealing two blessed elites clad in the ceremonial loin cloths, their claws clacking on the floor.
The intruder caught the movement of the door and leapt upwards, affixing himself to the dark ceiling ten meters overhead. The elites paused, hideous noses sniffing the air for danger, satisfied the way was clear, they moved out of the doorway, revealing a prophet leaving the control room. The spindly creature nodded to its guard detail, and hummed down the hallway in its antigravity chair.
The stealth took a deep breath and dropped silently from the ceiling and rolled through the doorway. The only other creature in the room was an elite studying the main computer monitor on the far wall. The stealth bounded forward and snapped the warrior's neck with a powerful twist of its arms.
The disk slid easily into the main data port, and a special intrusion software program neutralized the mainframe security system. The huge amount of intelligence information was downloaded to the platinum disk in thirty seconds, countless terabytes of vital information on the vast Covenant military and intelligence network. The stealth slipped the disk into a slot in the back of his helmet, and jetted out the door without a second glance. The other stealths were notified that the objective had been achieved. The Forerunner warriors each made their own way out of the base as fast a possible, streaking down corridors in black blurs that passing Covenant personnel barely had time to notice.
The reason for their quick and less than stealthy departure was soon apparent as the building began to rumble and shake with the detonation of ground penetrating charges dropped from the Phoenix dive bombers that suddenly swarmed over the Covenant radar displays.
The stealths leapt back into the river and the fins protruded from their suits as they muscled their way downriver at a speed that a power boat would envy. They swam back into the cargo compartment of the Pegasus, the pilots closed the hatch and pumped out the water, then lifted through the water and sped away to the safety of the deep dark void of space, the Phoenix dive bombers following them, their job of providing the distraction done. Another infiltration mission accomplished, and a wealth of information obtained.
Forsaken Forefathers part VII: Arctic Warfare
Date: 25 June 2003, 7:02 AM
0900 Hours, February 12, 2553 (Military Calendar)/
Fort Siberia on the surface of Micha VIII
"Let's run through this one more time," spoke the Forerunner interrigator to the Prophet hovering several feet in front of him, "You not only strayed from the path that was set for you to follow, but you abused the power we left you, and imposed tyranny on your brother races. And on top of that, you attempted to wipe out our origin race to stop them from becoming as great as us."
"Yes, the rate at which the humans had progressed in technology with no help from your artifacts and instructions was alarming, and they would have destroyed us given the time and opportunity," replied the prophet, shifting uncomfortably as it stared at the ODST trooper standing next to it.
"How do you know that they would have destroyed you? The humans had hoped for a peaceful encounter with any alien species, and you immediately began to slaughter them. You knew the plans we had laid for them, and you, and that they would have the best outcome. But instead, you chose to wage war on them and hope that we wouldn't come back." The Forerunner interrigator was becoming angry.
"Fighting the vermin proved to be arduous and more difficult than we expected, but had you come back a month later, we would have destroyed them. Their destruction was the will of the gods," scoffed the prophet.
"The gods had no such intention, you had no such influence. You thought that the gods were on your side, but let me tell you something, the gods you know, are not true. You created false gods, and used your mental abilities as spectacles of "their" power. You fooled the masses into thinking that your actions were ordained and set by the gods, you twisted the truth and lied to your own people."
"That is irrelevant though," continued the interrigator, "What is relevant is the location of your fellow cohorts. Tell us where the rest of your leadership is, and we will endeavor to make your death relatively painless," the interrigator said, using a phrase coined by the Forerunner to its criminal offenders.
"I will tell you nothing, what you are doing is pointless. You will never defeat us. With all your technology and all your soldiers, you will still never defeat us," the prophet replied flatly, but with a hint of fear and uncertainty.
The interrigator grinned and stood. The prophet's gaze followed the interrigator as he walked to a table. On the table was a single syringe, and a small vial.
____________________________________________________________
The two Phantom dropships, refitted with white hull plating, swooped low over the snow covered hills. The snowstorm had been raging for a few units now, and the two dropships still pushed through the thick sleet and snow toward their destination.
"We drop in, move into the Forerunner bunker, extract the Exhalted one, and retreat to the dropships. If we run into trouble, or if something terrible happens, an entire battalion of troops and armor support are position just south of the outpost," spoke Field Master Ganumee' to the squad of Elites and Brutes seated inside the Phantom.
The Elites had been fitted with white armor, and these particular Brutes had been raised on an arctic world, and had developed white fur. The strike team was specially trained for infiltration.
"And remember, no weapons fire unless absolutely necessary, we move in stealthily. Rely on your tactics and knowledge, not your weapons." Though they were going to rely on stealth, they were still armed to the teeth. The Elites carried plasma rifles, grenades, pistols and other stealth tools. The Brutes were armed with their normal arm cannons, and carried incendiary plasma grenades.
Ganumee' looked at all of his troops, they were ready.
The two Phantoms touched down just outside of the west perimeter of the outpost, the least heavily gaurded area.
The troops clambered out of the large ships and into the unforgiving storm. They moved foreward for two kilometers until they could see the outpost. Ganumee' pulled out his optical intensifyer and zoomed the eye in on the outpost. Two Forerunner soldiers, clad in white armor, were stationed outside of a rear entry access hatch. That was their way in. The stike team, almost invisible in the storm, moved closer to the garrison and stopped when they reached the west wall. Ganumee' motioned for two of the Elites to move up and silently kill the two warriors. The two Elites crept forward slowly, and had almost reached the two warriors when one jerked its head toward the Elites and with lightning fast speed, raised its weapon and fired a small ballistic missile from a lower tube on its rifle. The missile slammed into the first Elite and threw its remnants away from its standing point.
Ganumee' growled and shouted for the squad to open fire. The Brutes opened up with their cannons and left smoldering craters where one of the Forerunner commandos had been standing. The other fired another missile at one of the Brutes and the resulting explosing obliterated what had once been the Brute's torso.
"Reinforcements!!!, send reinforcements to Fort Siberia now!, we are under Covenant att-," was all the soldier got out before his torso was separated from his legs by a blast from a Brute's cannon. Ganumee' spat, and reached for his own communicator.
"This is Field Master Ganumee', send in the battalion, suprise failed. We will press into the complex and attempt to extract the Exhalted," he growled into the small communicator and turned it off. This mission was going to be difficult before, but now it seemed impossible.
____________________________________________________________
Klaxons blared and red emergency lights winked to life and flashed throughout the garrison. They were under attack. The Forerunner interrigator shot an accusng glare at the prophet, who sat calmly, staring back.
"You better hope that those alarms weren't set off by Covenant," said the interrigator as he loaded an M6D pistol given to him by one of the ODSTs, "because if they were, then you wont be leaving this room alive."
The strike team stormed through the corridors until they reached the holding and interrigation area. The team paused by the door, and Ganumee' took a brief moment to look at his troops, they nodded and he pressed the release button to open the door.
The door behing the interrigator slid open to reveal a squad of Elites and Brutes. One of the Elites stepped forward and pointed its plasma rifle at the interrigator.
"Give us the Exhalted, or die. Choose," it said maliciously. The Interrigator open his mouth to reply, but before he could, a single shot rang out behind him. Ganumee's eyes went wide and he began to tremble with fury. The interrigator turned slowly to find the prophet slumped in its hovering chair, a sinlg bullet wound in it's right temple, and the ODSTs battle rifle aimed at the prophets head, the barrel still smoking. The interrigator turned back to the Elite, and looked blankly into its white eyes.
The human had shot the Exhalted. Ganumee' felt the fury surge through him, making his extremeties tingle and his pulse pound through his head. He squeezed the trigger of his rifle and sent a plasma bolt into the face of the emotionless Forerunner interrigator. Then turned to the remaining two soldiers standing next to the dead prophet. They opened fire and the squad jumped into action. The firefight lasted about 45 seconds. Three Elites lay dead, along with the two human soldiers. The squad moved out of the garrison and into the tundra, or what had been a tundra. It was now cratered and smoldering as the battle raged between Human and Forerunner forces and the Covenant forces.
A group of Wraiths lobbed a salvo of plasma bombs at the human Scorpion ranks, two of the tanks melted into slag and sank deeper into the snow. The Scorpions returned fire and destroyed several of the Wraiths. Infantry scattered across the mile wide area were engaged in furious battle and hand to hand combat. Warthogs spun and plowed through the Covenant ranks, mowing down the soldiers with LAAG fire. And Covenant Ghosts did the same among the human and Forerunner ranks. A group of banshees swooped in and opened fire on an LRV squad of rocket jockeys. The jockeys returned fire and rockets streaked into the air, destroying several of the banshees.
The battle raged for three hours until the Covenant decided to pull their forces from the area. When the forces had left, they left it decimated. The outpost was destroyed, the smoldering rubble lay in heaps. The battlefield was cratered and littered with corpses. The snow was stained a mixture of reds, blues, and purples. Warthog, Ghost, Banshee, Scorpion, and Wraith chassis lay burnt or burning among the bodies. 300 Marine and Forerunner casualties weighed against just shy of one thousand Covenant casualties were tallied. The Covenant had fought with sheer bloodlust, rather than their quiet diligence. They were blinded by their fury, and they suffered for their lack of self control. But the Covenant were far from finished, the may have lost this battle, but the war was undecided as of yet.
to be continued...
Foresaken Forefathers Part VII- Knowledge Gained is Knowledge Earned
Date: 4 July 2003, 3:10 AM
The ground rumbled and shook with the impact of penetrator bombs. The high energy explosives ripped apart solid buildings and showered the area with debris. The air shook with the passing of Phoenix dive bombers flying six times the speed of sound.
Twiliek buried his head in the rubble as more fighters passed by. The little grunt wanted to hide away from the frightening sounds. The dirt and clumps of grass muffled the blasts, and the loud sound of his methane rebreather thundered in his ears.
The rumbling roar of incoming fire slackened, and Twiliek hesitantly lifed his head. one eye poked over the top of the rubble, surveying the area. satisfied that he was out of immediate danger, the little alien dug free of his protective cocoon and brushed the dirt off of him. Will of the Gods or not, Twiliek had had enough of this terrifying warfare. He dropped his weapon, scavenged a few methane fuel cells from his dead comrades, and took off for the distant hills.
The red coherent light of laser fire could be seen right outside the perimeter of the Covenant military complex. Blue sparks flew when any Covenant warrior got too close to a Forerunner battle commander. ODSTs climbed over rough terrain brandishing evil looking assault rifles. The vicious warriors poured an amazing rate of laser fire into the stunned and helpless reaction force.
Trails of smoke and fire filled the sky as the phoenix fighters mixed it up with the Banshee upgrades. The air above the compound was a giant fur ball of diving and strafing aircraft. It was complete and total chaos, and the only ones who could actually keep track of anything were the forerunner radar operators safe in their armored warships in orbit.
A group of silver armored elites rushed a group of ODSTs. Laser rifles chattered and whirred as the elites were cut down in their tracks. Frontal resistance was futile, and many valuable moments were wasted as the covenant commanders tried to find a way to protect the smashed compound.
The defending force was reduced to taking hastily aimed potshots from doorways and from behind crates as the combined forerunner and human force swept over the first half of the base, neutralizing any threats.
In a half hour, the Forerunner battle commanders got tired of the ragged and infrequent resistance coming form the other side of the complex. Another wave of Phoenix bombers was sent in, and the resisting soldiers were dissolved in the ensuing inferno of high explosive cluster munitions.
The remaining resistance was crushed in the hellish onslaught. The facilities above ground were utterly gutted and destroyed from the support craft, but according to the information obtained from the Covenant intelligence compound, this research facility extended far below ground. A perimeter was established, rubble was cleared with huge dozers, and the ONI and Forerunner Intelligence Service (FIS) set up camp above the tunnels leading below the surface.
Six squads of stealths were sent below to scout the area and bring any Covenant scientists to the surface. They reappeared two hours later herding six scientists floating before them. The bloated Covenant creatures were restrained and crammed into a drop ship for transportation to interrogation facilities in orbit.
Forerunner and human researchers were soon crawling all over the covenant base, finding immense amounts of information. Nothing like this had ever been found before. It was incredible. The Covenant research into biological and nerve agents were extensive to say the least. However, to date, any successful nerve agents had yet to be developed for use on human test subjects.
It appeared that the Covenant researchers, though brilliant in their own right, were far behind the competition when it came to biological weapons. Humans had used and perfected various substances over the millennia, and which were now being used to great affect on Covenant ground troops. An agent was now being developed to permeate through the armor of covenant ships and attack the inhabitants inside.
Valuable information pertaining to Covenant weapons systems, intelligence networks, and defense protocols had been obtained from the base. In the time span of one day, the entire Covenant military system had been severely compromised. Now their sworn religious enemies had every byte of information pertaining to ever weapons system ever developed. They knew their weaknesses and their strengths, and how to nullify those strengths.
The Covenant were, in a word, screwed. Every engagement and defense protocol was known, all their strategies were exposed. The Covenant war machine had seen the first day of the end of its existence.
Forsaken Forefathers part IX: Defection
Date: 10 July 2003, 12:19 AM
A plasma bolt slammed into the already injured carrier, and it listed lazily to starboard. Another hit like that would mean certain destruction. The only hope for the damaged ship and it's fellow ships in the small battle group was to get into the Forerunner and UNSC quarantine zone...
____________________________________________________________
1800 Hours, September 12, 2553 (military Calendar)/
UNSC Carrier, Fisher of Men, UNSC and Forerunner airspace over Malachi XV
"Play that back one more time, and clean up the sound," said Captain Vlamaski with shock and disbelief in his voice.
"Yes sir," replied the tech officer, struggling to clean up the transmission. "There," he continued after several moments, "That's the best I can do sir, it's too distorted to get any clearer," he finished and turned to look at the Captain, who gave him a curt nod and seemed to look off into space as the garbled transmission played back, slightly clearer this time.
"This is Ship Master, Meeka 'romamee of the Covenant Cruiser,Justice and Judgment and I am requesting assistance in the sector you call eight one by four nine. We are several ships strong and we wish to defect from the Covenant, we are willing to give our services and fight alongside you in turn for your he-," the transmission was cut short, then came back in with shouting in the alien tounge.
"Sir?," his pilot said, turning to face the captain. The Captain looked at him for a few seconds, then gazed out of the forward window for a moment.
"Inform the Forerunners that we are going to help a defecting group of Covenant ships, and request support in the sector. Make sure when you see which ships will be helping us, that you tag them with friendly indicators....We're going to get them."
____________________________________________________________
Twenty ships were all that was left...after three were annhialated by multiple plasma bolts, and their hulls melted into slag. The lead ship in the resistance group sent twin plasma bolts streaking toward one of the pursuing Covenant ships. One of the torpedoes splashed across the shields of one of the smaller frigates, and the second struck the engine coolant vent, and started a chain reacton of explosions that rippled through its hull, and it finally erupted in a ball of nuclear fire.
The Covenant answered by launching a massive salvo of torpedoes at the fleeing resistance ships. It was large enough to wipe out two thirds of the small fleet. But something happened. The view screens flashed a brilliant white and then went black.
"What's going on?!," shouted 'Romamee, "get the screens back online!"
"There is nothing wrong with the viewscreens Excellency." the tech Elite answered with a shrug.
"Then turn down the picture amplification, see what is in the way." The Elite did as he was told, and the screen seemed to jump back and as it did, a Forerunner ship came into clear view. The plasma bolts splashed harmlessly across the side of the giant ship. It's beam cannon pods swiveled around and tracked several of the Covenant ships. Fiery red beams lanched out and cut their targets cleanly into halves, then they began to move from ship to ship. Several of the Covenant ships detonated several moments after being cut by the beams, but most exploded upon contact with the beams. Within moments, all traces of the pursuing ships were gone.
____________________________________________________________
"... and we are willing to comply with any circumstances that you have. We are willing to do anything to help your forces," 'Romamee finished his testimony to the UNSC Admirals and Forerunner Commandants seated at the long table. The Admirals and Commandants looked at each other silently for a moment, and finally one of the Admirals stood and gave the verdict.
"We have always hoped for a peaceful initiation into relationships with any alien races that may be found. I, and many others feel that this is the start of an era of peace. Members from every race in your caste system have defected with you, and they will all be welcomed into the alliance. Together, we will complete the plans laid for our races by our ancestors," the Admiral finished and sat down. The rest of the officials nodded in satisfaction.
"I thank you," replied 'Romamee, and stepped down from the podium.
The members of the rebelling faction leaving the Covenant were absorbed into the regular Human and Forerunner forces, were given new armor, new weapons, and better training. They were integrated into the colony communities and accepted as equals among the public. The soldiers that they contributed to the alliance gave special forces tactics and information that had not been previously known. The complete and total vision of the Forerunner had come into view.
To be continued...
Foersaken Forefathers Part X
Date: 22 July 2003, 3:59 PM
The Axis task force jumped into the system in a blinding flash of brilliant blue light. The formation was huge, numbering in the thousands. The Axis was the freshly formed alliance between the Human, Forerunner, and Covenant rebel faction. With the combined resources and Forerunner technology, another breed of super ships had been built in the short span of five years.
Each ship was identical, each wielding a dizzying array of weapons. They were large, measuring a kilometer from bow to stern. The main guns were a meld of Forerunner and experimental Covenant technology. Each ship had two large turrets, one fore and the other aft. In each turret was the bore of a giant X-Ray laser. Deep down in the bowels of each ship were two large fusion bottles.
The task force lanced in system, its target soon obvious: around the star system's sun was a ring of planets, twelve in all. Each planet was heavily fortified, supplemented with a formidable array of ships in orbit. The Covenant had grown in number, and this was one of their breeding grounds: star system 81902.
The defending warships drifted out to meet this somewhat expected threat. The forces now in play across the board were nearly equal. This was a huge group of installations, a special military base for the Covenant. The Prophets had no say on what went on here. This was the scientists' domain.
The Axis spacecraft wheeled at their centers of gravity, presenting their twin cannons to the enemy. Deep in the depths of the Axis ships, certain energies were released. Atomic energies. In each fusion bottle, plutonium was smashed together in a sea of liquid nitrogen. The resulting detonations were contained in the fusion bottles, and forced up into the cannons.
The attacking formation became one giant flash of white light, thousands of kilometers across as every ship fired together. And in that instant, the Covenant ships and three of their planets...melted. The nuclear energy in each cannon was focused and compressed, and blasted at their targets at almost six times the speed of light.
It was incredible; the Covenant commanders had never seen anything like it. Millions of Covenant soldiers had just evaporated into the unforgiving black void. The Forerunner ships continued in system, readying their guns for another salvo. The defense could not hold up for many more of those volleys. With a heavy hand, the Battle Commander activated a secure link to a small remote planet on the other side of the star. He morosely muttered in his guttural tongue, and the reluctant command was acknowledged.
The Axis fleet, spread out strategically so as not to concentrate their forces in any one area, continued to slide toward the crumbling Covenant live of defense. The Forerunner and human commanders were already lightheaded with the optimism of complete victory. A sense of victory and security slid over the minds of the bridge crews. It was a tragic error.
A large blue sphere dropped out of slip space in an ethereal glow, right in the center of the massed Forerunner forces. Maybe if the gunners had been more alert for danger, maybe if the commanders could have possibly imagined this happening, the following moment could have been changed. But it was not so.
All bridge crews turned their eyes toward the strange object. Its surface was alight with swirls of lazily twisting blue light. It was mesmerizing. And it was deadly.
As all the captains and commanders watched, something began to happen. The blue whorls began to slide around the sphere, twisting faster and faster. And as they accelerated, they began to change colors, from the soft blue glow, to a deep purple, and then to a deep fiery ruby. The sphere expanded to twice its original size, and then, vanished in a flash of blood red light.
And from the focal point of its existence, the black space, rippled. These ripples rapidly turned into huge rifts in space- time. And these rifts rapidly sped away from their point of creation. And the effect was deadly.
Axis ships were torn apart by the unstoppable force; immensely strong alloys were twisted and shredded as if they were tissue paper. Reactors and fusion bottle erupted in violent throes all across the Axis formation. In a few short seconds, thousands of powerful warships and millions of lives vanished. The debris were sucked out of real space, into the rifts in the space-time continuum. There was nothing left.
It was total devastation, and it did not stop there. The rifts swiftly consumed what was left of the Covenant fleet. The Covenant Commander knew the threat those new Axis forces posed to the very survival of the Covenant Empire. And so he sacrificed his forces for the greater good.
The rifts rippled through the planets, shattering them. The fission reactions in the star became unstable. The center of that solar system erupted in a flash of pure white light, leaving nothing left.
The rifts ran their course, finally wearing themselves out three light years from its focal point. Axis watcher drones recorded the event silently. The data was pulsed toward the nearest information gathering station, and from there it was transmitted to the highest command in the Axis command structure.
The loss of life was horrific, and it had dealt an immense blow to the military capabilities of the Axis war machine. The Forerunner and their counterparts retreated to lick their wounds in hiding for a while. The Covenant had brought this war to a whole new level, and it was time to play dirty.
To Be Continued...
|
