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Halo: War in the Ruins by Marty
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Desecrating Providence (Prologue Part 1)
Date: 12 January 2004, 5:38 AM
Desecrating Providence (Prologue Part 1)
This story follows a contingent of Marines who escape a second assault on Sigma Octanus IV, and, not wanting to lead the Covenant to Earth, or the remaining inner colonies, follow the footsteps of the Pillar of Autumn by cruising towards the star formations illustrated on Sigma Octanus' rock formations.
Comments'd appreciated, but I'm not demandin'. ;)
PROLOGUE
1200 Hours, September 3, 2552 (Military Calendar) /
Sigma Octanus IV, United Nations Space Command Alpha HQ, outside the ruins of C'te d'Azur
Colonel John Murray sighed with frustration and allotted himself a five-minute break to calm his nerves. The fit and crisply uniformed officer eased back into his office chair and rubbed his bloodshot eyes with his clean and manicured hands. After almost two months of time, the young field commander was still far from quelling what remained of the alien forces on the planet. The officer had no idea how he was going to explain the latest incident to his boss. That man, General Niccoli, commander of Sigma Octanus IV SATCOM, while complacent as a military leader, would, nonetheless, be furious about this particular guerilla attack.
A convoy of maintenance personnel en route to a temporary firebase took a wrong turn and ended up stuck in the sands of "the gilded beach," a beautiful, but hostile area just a few kilometers from the eerily dark and ominous nuclear crater upon which, before the invasion a couple months prior, had been the beautiful coastal city of C'te d'Azur. All twenty of the soldiers in the convoy were killed by soldiers of the alien religious alliance - known as the Covenant - as they tried to return to their starting point on foot. From what the recovery detail could gather, it indeed seemed as though the monstrous "Hunter" breed of Covenant were involved in the slaughter; gigantic footprints and leveled jungle brush surrounded the scene of the ambush.
"John!"
The normally cool and collected Major Adur Imam startled Murray: chief assistant field commander.
"What is it major?" The colonel inquired with worry in his voice.
"There was an attack repelled at grid thirteen by twenty-seven! But something was very wrong about it."
"What?"
"They engaged Grunts."
Murray suddenly felt his heart race, and for the first time in many weeks, he didn't want his job anymore; the "Grunt" race of aliens had depleted what remained of their cache of methane air supply almost immediately after the UN fleet prevailed in the intense starship battle above the planet two months prior. The presence of the Grunts indicated that the resistance was being reinforced - from space.
Get me an alpha priority uplink with the frigate Alliance, now!" the Colonel demanded.
"Right away, sir." Major Imam quickly left to carry out his order.
The Colonel brushed his long fingers through his thick black hair and sighed. He was not naive enough to wait for the Major to return; he knew that the Alliance either got itself out of Dodge, or that it was a molten hunk of titanium in orbit. General Niccoli, who had sworn by a rumor of heavy combat near Epsilon Eridani, now appeared to be correct: the Covenant were invading the Inner Colonies with full force. Truth be told, Murray had always known it was only a matter of time before the Covenant returned to and destroyed Sigma Octanus IV. No matter, he thought to himself, time to find a way out of here.
Imam rushed back to Colonel Murray's office, speaking as he approached.
"Unable to contact Alliance, sir, but our Artificial Intelligence computer has detected Covenant ships in high orbit, and..."
The back door of the Colonel's office was swinging open and shut; Murray was gone.
"... And enemy drop ships are inbound." Imam told himself, while looking down to his shaking hand.
Murray's cowardly escape from his own headquarters paid off. As the Colonel sped away from Alpha HQ in his M12 Warthog Light Reconnaissance Vehicle, he saw and heard the ominous and frightening plumes of covenant mortar fire smash the base's defensive barriers; it was only a matter of time before the whole area was infested with thousands of Covenant.
"Watch out!" screamed a young Private that Murray enlisted as his warthog gunner.
The Colonel didn't have time to slow the velocity of the three-ton Warthog, but he was able to brace himself for a collision.
A loud, thunderous boom occurred and caused the olive drab Warthog to nearly flip end-over-end. The quick thinking Murray managed to move his hand to the vehicle's console, optimize the LRV for front-wheel drive, and gun the vehicle into reverse. Soon after, the rear wheels of the angular truck slammed to the ground. The young woman manning the Warthog's Anti-Air missile system had ejected herself and flew through the air. Another Warthog trying to escape the base was running parallel with the Colonel's, and quickly sped up just as the Private jumped into its path.
Murray survived the bone-rattling impact and regained his senses just as the Private who was manning his missile rack flew through the air like an airplane in a hopeless spin. The Private collided with the ground, but failed to move after that. Another powerful M12, albeit with a significant dent in the front, screamed by with a Covenant vehicle in hot pursuit. The craft chasing the Warthog was a "Ghost," a fast, but relatively unprotected combat hovercraft armed with two plasma weapons. The Colonel quickly engaged manual fire for the Warthog's AA system. Unsure if it would work, Murray targeted a missile at the Ghost hovercraft, which had now caught up with and shot the pilot of the other Warthog with its mounted weapons. He didn't know if the missile would detonate at such a close proximity, or if it would even fire for the matter, but he ducked his head, covered his ears, and fired the sonic missile. The projectile moved with such velocity that seemed to melt into the purple, piscine Covenant attack vehicle. The craft expanded, rippled and bubbled for a split second before detonating in a massive blue-white fireball; the flesh of the Grunt pilot was instantly fried and the partially flailing skeletal structure of the creature quickly scattered away as the flaming hover craft settled into the ground well into the jungle foliage off the side of the road.
Obviously, Murray's Warthog was about as useful as the UNSC frigate Alliance against an entire Covenant fleet. He sprinted, M6D pistol in hand, towards the other Warthog with hope that it would still run. But when he reached the Warthog, the Colonel was met with the unfortunate task of prying a dead Corporal from the driver's seat of the damaged vehicle: that was the bad news. The good news was that the motor of the truck was running, which meant Murray still had a chance of escaping.
Murray began hypocritically reprimanding the dead soldier's driving.
"What kind of soldier just runs down one of their own like that anyway, Corporal? And I suppose you were just running scared, trying to get away from whatever that thing was that I hit."
The Colonel slowly pivoted to see what exactly it was that he collided with.
A lame, but nonetheless living Hunter was pinned under Murray's Warthog, its lower half was bleeding orange venom in such volumes that the Colonel could not understand how the monster was still living. With a quick leap to the side Murray just barely missed a radioactive, green colored projectile from the behemoth monster's fuel-rod cannon. The shot vaporized the body of the Warthog's driver and flew through the passenger side of the vehicle before exploding with explosive force against a thick jungle tree.
Murray jumped over the Warthog's rear fender, took control of its three-barreled Light Anti-Aircraft Gun, and quickly swiveled it towards the wounded Hunter. The Colonel did not aim at the Covenant monster; he aimed at the wrecked Warthog's AA missile pods and pulled back the trigger. Several super-sonic explosions quickly coincided with each other and popcorn like explosions ravaged the Warthog. A plume of red-hot metal and fire enveloped the surrounding area. As the Vehicle ripped itself apart, the pinned hunter screamed in a low pitched howl and instantly died as metal shards of the truck twisted and cut into the massive creature with each missile detonation. Satisfied that the Hunter was dead, Murray climbed into the driver's seat of his new Warthog and zoomed towards Alpha HQ's airfield. He was happy that the Hunter removed the dead driver for him.
The now dirt-covered Major Imam was personally leading a fire-team of soldiers who were trying to escape from Alpha HQ. The Grunt aliens, with their orange colored armor and plasma pistols, were tiptoeing into the base's perimeter and showering the prefabricated military structures with random fire. Despite all of this, the major still thought his team had a chance to accomplish their mission.
The Major thought the Marines and the citizens of Sigma Octanus IV were as good as dead. It was the officer's duty, however, to prevent the Covenant from obtaining the Office of Naval Intelligence's classified information, including, but not limited to, the navigational coordinates to the most important planet: Earth. Because of this, Imam and his small band were hard at work trying to reach a Prowler-class corvette named the Oedipus hidden somewhere in the jungle brush across from the base. This stealthy star ship was equipped with ONI's best technology and contained a large encyclopedia of classified information.
Rock, the United Nation Marine battalion's class C Artificial Intelligence personality, was temporarily downloaded into a cylinder-shaped data pod being wielded by the Major. The AI had been in contact with Imam on the status of the situation at large; it was Rock who alerted the fire-team of the wealth of knowledge that was vulnerable on board the Oedipus.
The only question on the major's mind was: Why was that stealth ship left there?
"Major, where is the Colonel?" asked a frightened Corporal.
"He's dead son, forget about him. Don't worry; we're going to get out of here." Imam, who thought nobody was leaving the planet alive, felt a spike of guilt strike his heart.
"Yes sir!" the Corporal responded with a new found sense of confidence.
The group couldn't proceed, as they were pinned outside of a maintenance garage near the end of the base. A large Covenant Wraith tank was pounding the area. The vaguely beetle shaped war machines contained a magnetic battery filled with ionized gas. Using a series of adjustable magnetic coils, the tanks were capable of projecting a large bubble of super hot plasma at any target using simple projectile motion. In addition to these tanks, a group of tall, blue-armored Covenant Elite warriors were prowling the battlefield for targets.
"We need a distraction," the Major realized "any ideas?"
Nearly all the soldiers held their heads down, except for an older Sergeant, who jumped to his feet.
"Sir, I have an idea."
"Let's hear it." Imam was open to suggestions, but unprepared for the noncom's blunt response.
"Run!" the Sergeant bellowed.
The entire fire team followed the noncom as he started a mad dash across the yard towards the jungle foliage. Major Imam didn't understand what was happening until he himself began to run, and saw exactly what he had been looking for: a distraction.
About one hundred meters from the fire-team's position, a humongous, sixteen ton Scorpion battle tank was making a suicidal run towards an armored Covenant platoon. Luckily for the Marine tank crew, the Covenant armor, in the form of four bright purple Wraith tanks could not adjust their powerful primary weapon to hit the Scorpion as it sped through the Covenant infantry screen and towards their positions. At point blank range the Scorpion blasted a Wraith, and the sabot round managed to pierce through the Covenant fighting vehicle's main hover engine. Plumes of blue-tinted smoke incinerated the terrain below the Wraith as it spun wildly out of control. Its driver - trying to regain control - cut the power from the main engine. This action, however, caused the Wraith's sharp bow to slam into the ground and sink partially into the muddy, jungle soil. When the Covenant pilot activated the tank's emergency engine, the hovercraft was trapped in the mud, and as a result, the mighty Covenant war craft began to slowly perform a front-end flip. Imam's fire-team was making their way to the jungle without being fired upon even once; the entire Covenant contingent was watching in awe at the tank battle in the distance.
Captain Albert "Renegade" Rochester put the petal to the metal, ran down an entire file of tall, armor-clad "Elite" Covenant foot soldiers. The short but loud mouthed officer prayed to himself - for a change - that his Scorpion battle tank could get enough speed for his daring maneuver to work. Lieutenant Madeline Moore, the tank gunner seated next to him, was hard at work firing the Scorpion's 50-caliber machine gun at the new Elite Covenant soldiers that were wielding automatic plasma rifles.
"Did you really need to run over that one? It's more fun shootin' them!"
"Just keep firing. Clear that infantry screen as much as possible." replied the maverick officer.
"Fine," answered the pessimistic Lieutenant, "Just don't get us killed."
Rochester scoffed and replied in a witty, but daring fashion.
"Lieutenant, if I wanted a back-seat driver I would have brought an AI with me to handle the turret. Now get back to work and keep that enemy infantry off our backs!"
Rochester knew it was going to be close - too close. Unlike most Scorpion drivers in the UNSC, Rochester loved being outnumbered and outclassed by the Covenant's armor. During the Human-Covenant war, it was indeed a rare treat where a ground engagement in which the opposing forces both had armor on hand would take place; usually Special Forces would take out the Wraiths before Scorpion divisions were even brought planet-side - or else the Covenant would bombard the planet rather than waste some of their precious tanks. Unfortunately, the major thought, the latter seems to take place more often.
The remaining three Wraiths on the battlefield were moving away from each other - they were flanking the Scorpion.
"Good," Captain Rochester said "I'll take you out one at a time."
One of the three Wraith tanks was rapidly closing in from the left flank. To the right flank, however, was an even greater danger. The Wraith battle-tank that Lieutenant Moore had so eloquently disabled had flipped completely over its bow and was falling back to the ground. To further multiply the danger of his Scorpion being crushed and destroyed by the massive Wraith, Rochester took note that the tank had a plasma bomb fully charged in its turret.
"Lieutenant, when that puppy hits the ground everything five meters from it is going to be vaporized!"
Moore nervously whined and did what she could to keep the tank's turret low enough to avoid hitting the falling Covenant vehicle.
The left-flanking Wraith closed in towards the Scorpion. Its sleek and shinning surface gave it the appearance of some sort of exotic jewelry. A plasma-bomb was fully charged and the Covenant pilot had a clear shot. Unfortunately, it was not clear to the Covenant pilot that his "perfect spot," just five meters behind the Human Scorpion, was exactly where his platoon compatriot's tank was about to collide and turn into an explosion of ionized gas and white-hot fire. As the Covenant driver prepared to clear his gun, a collision alarm sounded...
Imam was in utter disbelief at what he was seeing. His fire-team was well into the jungle by now: searching for the Oedipus, but he decided to stay behind to watch. The Major knew he wasn't going to be leaving Sigma Octanus IV, so he figured: why not go down seeing a human tank-commander completely outclass his or her Covenant counter-parts? Imam watched as the Scorpion - after having obliterated two Covenant tanks - swiveled its turret and blasted away yet another Covenant tank. Only one alien vehicle remained, but its pilot had turned himself around and was trying to leave the combat area. The Scorpion gave pursuit and easily caught up with the hovering killer. The Wraith tried to pivot and deliver a killer blow to the Human "hell on wheels," but it was too slow; the Scorpion snow-plowed the Covenant mortar-tank and pinned it under four sets of massive treads. Covenant grunts with small arms were taking pot shots at the Scorpion, but the battle-tank, with its class-A titanium battle-plate, was unstoppable against the light weapons.
With an armored platoon out of action, the major knew that the Covenant would have to regroup before mounting another assault on the base; that tank had bought his men the time needed to find the Oedipus and interface with its controls. Later - if there was a later - Imam knew he owed whoever was behind the wheel of that Scorpion a drink.
"Captain," began Lieutenant Moore. "That was the most brilliant maneuvering I've ever seen."
"Yeah, thanks." Rochester sarcastically acknowledged.
"You don't sound too happy." The Lieutenant stated, with a hint of guilt on her voice.
"It's not your fault Moore, but it's not going to be discussed now."
"No sir, tell me!"
"Lieutenant, we need to get to the airfield on foot!"
"So?" the Lieutenant responded.
"Don't you see? We're going to have to leave this beautiful machine behind!"
The young lieutenant laughed for the first time since the nightmare of a battle began.
"I was the one doing all the shooting!" She criticized.
The two officers abandoned their Scorpion tank, but not before Captain Rochester paid his respects by leaving his UNSC arm-patch on the front-left track pod of the tank. Armed with commandeered Covenant plasma rifles and grenades, the pair made their way towards the narrow jungle path that led straight to the airfield. As the two began their long run, plasma pistol rounds cracked passed their ears.
Rochester took a hit on the back of the knee and collapsed to the ground. He could feel his skin blister and moisten, and he felt as though he had a forth degree burn; he wouldn't be walking until he could make it to a hospital. He did keep consciousness long enough to see Moore dive to the ground firing a plasma rifle with precision. As he became lightheaded, Rochester prayed she was as good with a rifle as she was with a turret.
Desecrating Providence (Prologue Part 2)
Date: 16 January 2004, 11:14 PM
Desecrating Providence (Prologue Part 2)
This story follows a contingent of Marines who escape a second assault on Sigma Octanus IV, and, not wanting to lead the Covenant to Earth, or the remaining inner colonies, follow the footsteps of the Pillar of Autumn by cruising towards the star formations illustrated on Sigma Octanus' rock formations.
Comments'd appreciated, but I'm not demandin'. ;)
Colonel Murray could not imagine why the Covenant sent ground forces down to the planet. Sigma Octanus IV's atmosphere was transforming to a pale orange, and Murray knew why. Massive Covenant plasma bombs were falling from space. This place was going to be a glass ball soon. But not before I'm out of here Murray thought to himself.
What was normally a short drive to Alpha HQ's airfield was taking quite some time for the Colonel. Every thirty seconds Murray pulled the Warthog over and manned the vehicle's LAAG for several minutes, just to be safe. He saw a full squadron of SkyHawk jump jets scream overhead, and he wondered if those planes were from the airfield, or if they were reinforcements from another base.
With the airfield in sight, Murray was greatly relived too see that the rear of the base littered with undamaged Pelican transport ships, and even a dozen Longswords. The gigantic space-superiority fighters dwarfed the Pelican dropships, and that was for two very important reasons: The Longswords needed to be large enough to be armed with Archer anti-starship missiles, and they were fitted with cryo tubes for both pilots. The colonel would have to run a Covenant blockade, power down, and glide towards a human installation. However, the multi-month trip would seem like an hour for the officer because he would be cryogenically frozen within the cryo tube. Murray flinched at the painful thought of such a long dry freeze.
Air raid sirens rang loudly just as Murray reached the field. Such a sound could mean nothing but trouble and the Colonel couldn't help but wonder where those SkyHawks were if there really was an incoming raid.
There was no soldier manning the front gate of the airfield, there was, however, an entire fleet of Warthog attack vehicles in perfect formation at the far side of the base. A hell of a battle was about to take place.
"Yeah," Muttered the Colonel, "where were you when your C.O.'s base was being bombed?"
There wasn't much time; the Colonel needed to get to a fighter. Just a few hundred meters and he would be home free. The nearest Longsword was waiting for him; its black titanium hull seemed to shine like a gate to heaven.
Battle began to rage at the far end of the airfield. Murray could see hundreds of Covenant Banshee attack flyers bombarding a long row of Warthog LRVs. There were so many of the purple stubby-winged flyers attacking the Marines that at regular intervals, two or three of the planes would suffer mid-air collisions and fall to the ground in flames. Anti-Air rounds tore through dozens of the Banshees and sent them crashing down in a heap. The insect-like Banshees were swarming SkyHawk jump jets making their second pass over the airfield. Not only could the nimble flyers outmaneuver the SkyHawks, they could outrun them as well. Murray watched as two of the jet fighters had their armor completely striped by hundreds of plasma hits. One SkyHawk, however, engaged his afterburner, destroying two Banshees that were snapping away behind the larger fighter. 50mm cannons from another jet ripped through the main group of Banshees, knocking down dozens of the flyers, but crushing some Warthogs with debris.
Pelican drop ships were also in the air, using their chin-mounted auto cannons and Anvil IV missile pods to aid in the fight. Wave after wave of the covenant flyers entered the battle, and all hope seemed lost. The maneuverable Pelicans were managing to score dozens of hits, but as they ran low on ammunition, they simply had no choice but to eject or pancake into the surface of the planet.
Colonel Murray finally reached a Longsword fighter. The officer was baffled and wondered what man could possibly be coordinating the airfield's defense. As he was marveling the suprisingly strong Marine resistance, Murray started to regain his senses and notice the massive plasma bombs smashing into the planet on all horizons. The whole colony was going to be glassed; time to survive.
"Lieutenant! There's too many of 'em!" Yelled Sergeant Hanley, her hands were bleeding from firing a Light Anti-Aircraft Gun for so long, and the normally bottomless ammunition supply on board her M-12 LRV was running low.
Lieutenant Julian Galvin knew that the battle, overall, could not be won, but if what he heard from one of the SkyHawk pilots was correct, there was a Prowler-class stealth ship hidden in the jungle somewhere that needed to be protected from Covenant data theft. The Lieutenant was aware of a full squadron of Longswords parked in the rear of the base, and had planned to get his men off the planet in those ships, but now he couldn't do it until the Prowler was secured.
Banshees were relentlessly attacking the Warthogs on the ground. Even as Pelicans and SkyHawks cut their numbers in half within seconds, they still concentrated their fire on the ground vehicles.
"They think we're easy targets" said Hanley, her voice full of anger.
"Prove them wrong, Lieutenant." Galvin simply stated.
"Yes sir!"
Human forces relentlessly cleared their guns into the skies above them. Many Banshees were taken out of action, but they simply weren't taking them down fast enough. Ammunition was dwindling and the Warthogs had lost formation.
Galvin knew that the Covenant fliers were trying to force the Humans to waste their ammunition chasing targets, but the officer had other plans in mind.
"Sergeant"
"Sir?"
"Hanley we're wasting ammunition, we need concentrate our firepower effectively and kill them all."
Hanley felt the company commander had stated the obvious.
"Any ideas?"
"Contact the fly-boys; I want you to coordinate all firepower on a single plane, with all air units flying parallel. No targets, just full automatic fire from all units."
The young officer didn't understand her superior's orders, but once she started coordinating the effort, it was clear to her: Galvin wanted to build a wall of fire.
Firing automatic weapons in salvos was too much for even the mighty Covenant to handle. Banshees were falling from the sky by the dozens as Sergeant Hanley's coordinated firepower from both air and ground created a virtual "wall" of projectiles. The maneuverable Banshees that were making their strafing passes for the nth time were flying directly into Galvin's wall and were rattled with bullet holes. As the remnants of the Covenant air attack were being dealt with, Lieutenant Galvin observed the carnage from atop his plasma-scarred Warthog.
Almost all of the Marines were wounded or dead, a good portion of the LRVs were disabled, destroyed or out of ammo, and the air support was in just as bad shape. Four jump jets remained and their torn up hulls somehow managed to land on the airfield without falling apart. It seemed like all the Pelicans were destroyed or landed - permanently - during the engagement, surviving pilots were limping towards the Warthog phalanx.
More hideous then the Human casualties though were the Covenant casualties: with a quick look Imam guesstimated that no less than two thousand wrecked Banshees littered the airfield and the surrounding area. At least a dozen of those Banshees collided with Warthogs on their return to the surface. Not a single Covenant pilot appeared to survive the ordeal. Visibility in the entire region was terrible. The black smoke rising from the smoldering Banshees and Warthogs blocked the vision of the entire group.
But the Marines had bought time to find the Prowler.
Galvin tried the radio to make sure the area was clear before sending the survivors into the jungle to find the Prowler.
"Can anyone see anything?"
"Sir! Ghosts!" crackled a Marine's voice.
Plasma fire ignited and engulfed multiple Warthogs. Covenant hovering attack vehicles were pouring heavy suppression fire into the smoky ruins of Alpha HQ's airfield. The Covenant had wasted scores of Banshee attack flyers neutralizing the human position and now they were throwing the land-based Ghosts at them. The aliens were hell bent on raiding the Human Airfield.
Those suckers think the Prowler is in the airfield. The Lieutenant realized.
Galvin could hear the unmistakably thunderous sound of a Longsword fighter taking off from the airfield. Thinking that air support was on its way, the officer unleashed his cohorts and ordered them to emerge from their defensive positions. At first, the Marines surprised and nearly overwhelmed the tenacious Covenant cavalry units with their daring attack. However, Lieutenant Galvin frowned in horror as he saw the Longsword interceptor ascend and accelerate on a space-bound trajectory.
Murray could see it all from the cockpit of the Longsword fighter as it climbed the atmosphere: dozens upon dozens of Covenant ghosts were simply firing blindly into the smoky remnant of the Marine position; it was only a matter of time before the soldiers were all dead and the planet was annihilated. As the large fighter climbed Sigma Octanus' atmosphere, the Colonel wondered what dangers awaited him in space. He, like most, had heard countless stories of Covenant supercarriers unleashing hundreds of Seraph fighters. While the small vaguely piscine space fighters were on equal terms with their Human counterparts, their vast numbers could simply overwhelm Longsword fliers.
All the officer could see above him was fire. He couldn't understand what was happening, but the automatic targeting computer in the Longsword did: the frigate Alliance was tumbling into the atmosphere. Murray acknowledged the fact that the starship was going to slam right into the area that the Marines were defending, but he was more concerned with the fact that the star ship was going to knock his fighter out of the sky. Unable to alter the Longsword computer's escape velocity course, Murray made a quick reaction and contacted Alliance's shipboard AI.
Boru, the class B AI on board the Alliance was puzzled that he, personally, was being hailed. It was unnatural for the Woad Warrior-impersonating Artificial Intelligence to negotiate with the enemy. The proud AI attached an image of a decapitated Grunt to a profane text message, and quickly replied to the source of contact. Systems on board the star ship were failing, and the artificial Celtic warrior was ready for his imminent death.
With a second glance, however, Boru flushed as he realized the contact was from a friend. With this realization, he listened to the Longsword pilot's channel.
"Alliance AI, be advised that your current freefall places you right over a mass of UN personnel. If possible - reorient your crash in order to avoid Human casualties." The pilot stopped speaking as he silently observed Boru's text message. "What the? Boru AI, please respond."
Boru replied with fury in his voice. "Longsword Knife seven-four, I shall fight to my very last breath to protect my countrymen."
Colonel Imam and his fire-team finally located the ONI Prowler. The ship was partially submerged in warm jungle water; vines and moss concealed the jet-black hull.
The mission was accomplished: the would-be-heroes of the battle successfully cleared the navigational database on the Oedipus, it was decided - unanimously - by the group of soldiers that no one should try to escape on board the faster-than-light capable star craft; they would have had to risk running the Covenant blockade, and if the Covenant disabled the Prowler, they would have been able to dissect and study the ONI stealth ship, its components, Rock's AI algorithms, and possibly even restore purged data.
Even with Earth's secret location preserved, victory was not on the minds of the Marines. The soldiers simply leaned back against the Oedipus and looked up. Rock informed the Colonel that the frigate Alliance was falling into the atmosphere and was expected to collide near Alpha HQ, thus enveloping the entire region with a nuclear detonation. Imam couldn't believe the misfortune: of all the places to crash, it had to be here. This unfortunate turn of events disappointed the Major who had, before he found out about the crash, planned on getting his men off the planet on Longswords at Alpha HQ's airfield.
Imam looked up, and saw the fiery outline of the UNSC frigate tumbling into the atmosphere.
Hanley and the seven other surviving Marines were completely exhausted. Lieutenant Galvin was severely wounded by a shrapnel explosion, but thankfully, the Covenant hovercrafts halted their attack, turned around, and quickly withdrew. None of the Marines understood what had happened, but a low rumble prompted some of the soldiers to look up at the wrecked UNSC starship that was tumbling into the atmosphere. The Sergeant was saddened, but also thankful that the digital data on board the Prowler would be vaporized by the coming crash.
"The bards shall tell the tale of my bravery for a thousand years!" yelled Boru on Covenant communication channels. The AI felt he was committing the ultimate sacrifice in the memory of the former pilots of the Alliance. The AI briefly materialized in Alliance's half-destroyed holotank, just to look into the lifeless brown eyes of the now deceased General Niccoli. The AI's holographic body was a half-naked and muscular man. Though covered with war paints and battle scars, the artificial construct managed to shed a tear. Boru extended a holographic hand towards his former commander and hopelessly tried to shut his eye lids. He had befriended the General as well as his command crew during his three month period of service aboard the frigate. Boru flickered off the holo tube and returned to the task at hand. He tried to use the last of the ship's functioning engines to maneuver the descent towards an ocean, but friction forces were relentlessly keeping the warship at terminal velocity.
With only one alternative remaining, Boru analyzed his morality algorithims and pinged a search in the Alliance's computer network for "the value of one life vs. the value of many." Nothing was available in the now defunct computer libraries, and Boru's own subroutines placed only universal selflessness as a logical being's greatest moral priority. Boru processed information for three full seconds, and then decided his course of action. The Longsword pilot would like his decision, but nonetheless, the construct began overloading the Alliance's fusion engines.
Murray was sweating; the frigate was going to collide with his fighter in thirty seconds. His worry subsided momentarily as he managed to reopen his communications channel with the Alliance's AI.
"Boru! Move that ship, now!"
"Unable to comply, sir." howled the battle-crazed AI. "Fear not, however, for our deed here and now shall prevent the deaths of those brave warriors on the plains below us!"
Murray was confused. A spike of radioactive energy on the Longsword's sensors began to paint a better picture, however.
"Boru, don't!"
A flash, and the two ships were gone.
Desecrating Providence (Chapter 1)
Date: 30 January 2004, 8:05 PM
Desecrating Providence (Chapter 1)
This story follows a contingent of Marines who escape a second assault on Sigma Octanus IV, and, not wanting to lead the Covenant to Earth, or the remaining inner colonies, follow the footsteps of the Pillar of Autumn by cruising towards the star formations illustrated on Sigma Octanus' rock formations.
There is a Prolouge (split into two parts) for this story in the archives. Search my author name in the Fan Fiction section if you wish to read it. It really isn't necessary to read in order to follow the story. It simply explains how and why the survivors escaped from Sigma Octanus.
CHAPTER 1
0238 Hours, October 2, 2552 (Military Calendar) /
Aboard Longsword fighter, uncharted system, Approaching Planet "Threshold"; Earth Survey Catalogue Number B1008-AG
Union lines were being charged by legions of fierce Confederate attackers. Though 65,000 Confederate soldiers outnumbered his force of 25,000 riflemen, Rock, a class C artificial intelligence, managed to miraculously stonewall the Confederate advance during a simulated Battle of Chickamauga. The construct huffed triumphantly as his tiny holographic gunmen prevented the battle-hardened enemy from taking Horseshoe Ridge, destroying the Federal army, and, ultimately, conquering the Union controlled state of Tennessee.
Rock was only able to enjoy his moment of victory for three computation cycles before he was forced to turn off the Longsword space fighter's holograph tank to concentrate on more important tasks. As the construct made the necessary calculations to guide his pair of Longswords into high orbit around an orange-purple gas giant, he marveled at the statistics. After nearly three hundred reenactments of this particular American Civil War battle, he had only managed to defeat the powerful Confederate Army seven times. Rock wondered if "The Rock of Chickamauga", Major George H. Thomas, the man upon whom which Rock's AI persona was modeled around, was actually a brilliant tactician, or if he had just been amazingly fortunate.
The good fortune must have been inherently programmed into Rock's algorithms. Along with five Marines, he had escaped destruction on the fallen colony world of Sigma Octanus IV. Two of those Marines were in the final stages of waking up from cryo-sleep in another compartment of the fighter. The AI double-checked their status. Bio-monitors indicated that one of the two men, Captain Albert Rochester, would need several hours to thaw in order to prevent permanent dry-ice damage to his wounded back. A forth degree plasma burn left a small, but critical portion of upper back charred and torn, so Rock would have to carefully isolate and thermally bandage that portion of his body the exact instant that his system began circulating blood again.
Rock's artificial emotions echoed a sense of annoyance. "Lovely, another task to monitor."
Though no other person or construct was around to hear it, Rock had shown an unusual Human trait: he had spoken to himself.
Rock was frightened by the abnormal behavior he had just shown. In an attempt to refresh his core, and repair it of potential damage, Rock enthralled himself in menial calculations. While submerged in the Longsword fighter's navigation system, the AI construct noticed a curious error. After making a full analysis, Rock realized it was actually quite a serious error. His Longsword's navigation computer indicated that his tiny group of survivors had only been gliding through the stars for a month.
The construct froze for thirty seconds; he was being overworked. Rock quickly terminated all non-critical processes. Rock's paused Civil War battle was deleted, the attempt to orbit the star system's large planet was abandoned, and other small tasks were aborted. Now, with a large capacity to debug this serious error, the AI went to work.
Rock accessed his memory core to recall all events leading to the escape from Sigma Octanus IV.
A standard quality video feed played on the Longsword's main view screen. Twelve Longsword fighters ascended an orange-tinted atmosphere and broke free into an enemy infested space. Seventy Covenant ships, big ones: cruisers and carriers, were bombarding the planet to glass. Though no Covenant fighters were harassing the Human refugees, a small oval-shaped Covenant corvette was moving to intercept them. The lateral lines of the space ship were glowing red and the ship was preparing to fire a wave of superheated plasma torpedoes. The man piloting the Longsword, who presently was about to wake up from cryo-sleep, Major Adur Imam, jerked the Longsword at a strange angle in order to avoid a collision with another Longsword that was blasted by a lucky Covenant pulse laser shot. Rock fast-forwarded through the video. He didn't want to have to see the rest of the escape from orbit; too many good soldiers died.
Rock resumed the video feed and Imam was right on the tail of a Covenant Seraph fighter. With the push of a button, an AGSM-10 missile launched and slammed into the teardrop shaped Covenant fighter. The Seraph's shield generator exploded into blue-white fire. Decompression resulting from the explosion sent the Covenant fighter into a blindingly fast spin. It was obvious that the pilot of the Covenant ship had to be dead from the outrageously high gravitational force caused by the damage, so Imam abandoned the chase and cut the engines. The second surviving Longsword slowly made its way towards a metal object floating in the void. Rock recalled that the last Longsword that the Covenant had managed to blast ejected one of its two Marines in a cryogenic tube that was being used as an improvised escape pod. Miraculously, the two remaining Longswords beat back six Seraph fighters and recovered the Marine.
After watching the rest of the video feed, Rock learned absolutely nothing new: Major Imam had ordered the two surviving ships to go into cryo-sleep and accelerate on a randomized vector for two years before reverting course towards Earth. The AI followed the instructions to the letter and created a countdown clock in order for him to easily create a daily status report log. Some sort of major malfunction must have occurred, perhaps due to damage sustained during the escape from the Covenant blockade, because, according to the navigational computer on the Longsword, the ship had traveled for only one month. Rock checked his other systems checks and discovered the navigation computers and the engine computers on both of the Longswords produced similar results: the ships had traveled what would have taken a month traveling in subspace in the same amount of time in real space. It was impossible.
Major Adur Imam coughed up a mouth-full of regurgitated slime. Like many military personnel, the officer couldn't stand the taste of the disgusting nutrient-rich substance. Imam was glad to be awake, but knew that his two years in cryo-sleep would be a cakewalk compared with the multi-light year journey back to Earth. The ultimate fear that Earth would be glassed upon his arrival loomed in his heart.
Rock had created a subroutine to direct the Major's reanimation. Imam was rather intrigued that the AI was too busy to coordinate the effort himself.
Annoyed that the Longsword didn't have a shower on board, the officer began wiping himself of dead skin and frost with a towel. As he was doing this, he wondered why the Captain in the tube next to his wasn't being revived. Rock's subroutine didn't know either. This made Imam all the more curious, so he floated out of the compartment and moved towards the cockpit.
"Good morning, Major Imam." Rock spoke with annoyance, as if talking to an intelligent being for the first time in two years was a waste of time.
"Good morning, Rock. Why hasn't the Captain been revived?"
"His wounds are too serious for a quick revival, sir."
"Understood." The Major nervously paused and looked out the Longsword's view ports. "Rock, where is the second Longsword?"
Rock's navy-blue uniformed hologram winked into view atop the fighter's hologram-tank. His body flared the entire color spectrum - an indication that the construct was panicked.
"What is it?"
"I was in the process of guiding both ships towards planetary orbit, but I encountered a serious error that required all of my processing power."
A strong gravitational shift sent the Major flying towards the left wall of the cockpit. He could hear the Longsword's engines accelerating at maximum burn towards the exosphere of Threshold.
"What the hell is going on?"
"My apologies, sir. I'm currently attempting to reacquire the second Longsword."
The Major realized the gravity of the situation; the AI had made a very serious mistake.
"Did you abort the orbiting attempt for the other Longsword?"
It took Rock three seconds to respond, "No, sir."
Imam grabbed on a nearby handle and lunged himself towards the pilot's seat. Although Rock's computation abilities were impressive, he was a mere Class C AI; he was hardly capable of flying a Longsword while performing the search for the other ship.
The officer quickly, but erroneously strapped himself to the seat and reacquainted himself with the UNSC fighter's controls. Rock gratefully relinquished control of the ships movements and dedicated all of his data towards locating the second ship.
Imam's ship soundlessly cut through the night with red clouds of friction outlining its descent into Threshold's upper atmosphere.
"Major we will not have the energy to escape the planet's atmosphere once we cross this threshold."
A NAV marker appeared on the Longsword's scope nearly 10,000 kilometers away. Moving at 400,000 kilometers per second, however, the fighter was rapidly approaching the point of no return.
One intense minute ticked by with no sign of the other ship. Rock was hurriedly trying to contact his AI subroutine onboard the other fighter with no success. As Imam was approaching Rock's NAV marker, several collision alarms began to echo throughout the cockpit.
"Be advised Major: multiple contacts falling into the planet's atmosphere. I recommend we break our descent at once."
Major Imam had no intention of abandoning his fellow survivors, but hundreds upon hundreds of small meteors began tumbling through the atmosphere. A rainfall of red-hot material obscured the officer's vision and made flying through Threshold's atmosphere extremely hazardous. The falling debris was simply too thick; he had to pull up.
As the Longsword broke free of Threshold's atmosphere, the scale of the debris became clear: the space around the planet as far as the eye could see was littered with millions of fragmented metal pieces. Imam wondered if the UNSC fleet had battled the Covenant here.
"Talk to me Rock; what am I seeing?"
"Processing data, sir." Responded the construct.
Humongous kilometer long stretches of alien alloy spun gently and soundlessly while colliding into other pieces of debris with explosive force. Imam gasped as an orange fireball erupted upon the impact of the monstrous metallic fragments. Trickling, microscopic metal fragments bounced and clattered against the hull of the Longsword fighter, and the Major eerily looked to the stars as though they were evil eyes starring him down. Major Imam glanced down at Rock's holographic figure as it scratched its furry beard.
"I'd hazard to guess we've stumbled onto something incredible, Colonel." Rock surmised. "There are billions of fragments consisting of rock, ice and an unknown metallic alloy."
"Covenant alloy?"
"No. The metal I'm analyzing is radically different from anything Human or Covenant. I'm detecting random energy bursts and strong radioactive isotopes; this debris field was created recently."
Major Imam had been in the military for a long time, but he had never seen destruction on this scale. Investigating the ruins, however, would have to be set aside while the search for the rest of the survivors continued.
"Any sign of the other ship?"
Rock's hologram shifted uneasily.
"There's something out there but it's... Not the Longsword..."
"What is it?" Imam impatiently inquired.
"Power surge detected!" Rock alarmingly reported.
One of the metal fragments floating in the void suddenly came to life and glowed the matter around it with two faint blue lights on both of its sides. The front of the object, however, tinged an angry red.
Imam instantly commanded his vessel to thrust away from the threatening object, but the ship's engines would not respond.
"Rock, give me power now!" The officer demanded.
"Unable to comply sir," the AI responded, "our fuel cells were depleted while escaping the gravitational pull of the gas giant."
A needle thin beam of energy sliced through the tranquility of the debris-strewn space and slammed into the titanium hull of the Longsword fighter with concentrated force. The armor, made of Humanity's strongest metallic alloy, was being purged away as if it were tissue paper. Alarms flared throughout the interior of the ship.
Rock's hologram flickered off and his voice boomed loudly over the unstoppable whine of the hull breach alarms, "Major, get yourself into a pressure suit immediately; internal atmospheric pressure is collapsing."
The Major attempted to free himself from the pilot's station of the fighter, but he couldn't unhook the safety harnesses he had quickly and inefficiently strapped together a few minutes prior.
Just as the robotic hostile floating in space was about to sever the Longsword fighter amidships, tracers of 120mm auto cannon rounds tore through the dark and slammed against the robot with explosive force. The robot fell back and reverted its frighteningly accurate laser beam towards the shells coming towards it. Several incoming shells were actually detonated while moving blindingly fast to their target, but the vast majority of the explosive rounds pierced and detonated inside the meter long machine. Tiny fires ignited within the hostile for a moment before the overwhelming hail of bullets flying towards it simply caused it to explode into a hundred small fragments.
A Longsword fighter, the one Rock had lost, materialized into view as it burst through a cloud of vaporized metal within the debris field. Fine particles of alloy and crystallized ice swirled and rippled as the jet-black warplane approached Rock and Major Imam's crippled ship.
"Good morning gentlemen!" a jovial female voice called on the naval ship-to-ship radio frequency, "might I be of assistance?"
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