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The Last of the Spartans
Posted By: ibshimo2<ibshimo2@yahoo.com>
Date: 11 August 2006, 2:34 pm
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Foreward : Some bungie.net forum friends were asking me hypotheticals, 'what if...?', and I wrote out a few scenarios. One of my answers to those questions kept getting longer, and turned into this.
Cortana and Master Chief stood outside the entrance to the Ark. Truth and the last of the old covenant guard had set up a last stand inside and had succeeded in starting the countdown to remote activation. No amount of bombardment could break through the Forerunner fortification to destroy it. Someone had to go inside to disarm the biggest, baddest weapon of the galaxy.
'How much time?' Cortana had never heard the Master Chief so tired.
'From my readings of the power emanations, I give us 25, maybe 27 minutes. Then, no more Earth, no more sentient life in the Galaxy. There is a bright side.'
'What's that?'
'No more covenant or flood. You have to look for the silver lining more, Chief.'
The Chief almost laughed. 'Thanks for the advice. Tell me the layout.'
'The Ark is comprised of three large open levels on top of each other. We have to cross each level to get to the elevator for the next level. The control panel is in the center of the bottom level on an open platform. We'll have to place the ordnance right next to the control panel to ensure success.'
'I assume each level will be crawling with the old Covenant.'
'Crawling would be an understatement. Teeming, maybe.'
The Master Chief marvelled at Cortana's programming. Even in the worst of circumstances she could still display the worst humor.
'Wait, Chief. Admiral Hood is on the horn.'
The Master Chief paused, and put his hand to his ear. 'What is it, Admiral?'
'Master Chief, hold on. Reinforcements are on the spoke.'
'Admiral, with respect, tell them to head back. The only useful force in this situation is a Spartan.'
'We know, 117.'
John-117 spun around and saw four Mark VI armor suits facing him. Even he was taken aback slightly by the potential firepower presented before him. He could picture Kelly-087's wry smile behind her comment. John-117 gave only a slight hitch of surprise before catching himself.
'It's about time you showed up. Where've you been?'
'Busy,' William-043 replied. 'While you've been collecting adulation and medals and traipsing across the galaxy, we've been covering your ass at home.'
'OK, let's go. Does everyone understand the parameters of the mission?'
4 lights blinked affirmative in 117's helmet. Good, thought John, no need for excessive emotion to affect our thinking.
The five spartans went through the hatch to the first elevator, pressed the pretty glowing button, and descended slowly to the first level.
Frederic-104 spoke up. 'You'd think Forerunner technology could speed up elevators. Guess not.'
John turned to Linda-058. She had her trusty sniper rifle hoisted on her shoulder. 'How are you feeling?'
'Good as new. What happened to your Mark VII? HQ's not going to be happy about that.'
Smiling, John turned to Kelly. 'How about you? How was your side mission with the good Doctor?'
'It went well, 117. We achieved our objective. Dr. Halsey's at peace with herself.'
That's good to hear, thought John. Dr. Catherine Halsey had done so much for humanity in her creation of her Spartans. It would be a shame for her to feel moral misgivings, remorse or regret for what she had done to them. 117 was confident that the spartans harbored no resentment towards the doctor. He knew that he certainly didn't.
The elevator door opened to reveal a huge artificial cavern, perfectly circular, maybe 1.5 miles across and half a mile high. Thousands of drones and jackals, and maybe a hundred brutes, were milling about in the area.
The spartans used a straightforward attack, a straight line 5 across, marching forward towards the teeming mass. It was more than enough. The covenant, taken by surprise, panicked and scattered across the cavern looking for cover. Disorganized, they were no match for the coordinated attack of the five spartans. Even the loud frustrated growls of the brutes could not bring order to the covenant defense. Soon enough, the first line of covenant defense was decimated and piles of covenant bodies covered the cavern floor. The spartans picked up some covenant weapons, as their Human weapons had run out of ammo around the middle of the cavern, except for Linda's carefully preserved sniper bullets. They jogged to the second elevator, and started the slow descent.
As they were descending, Cortana's voice broke into Master Chief's head. 'Chief?'
'Yes, Cortana?'
'I just wanted to say thanks, and it's been an honor serving in you, under you, I mean, with you. That didn't come out right. Well, you know what I mean.' Frederic and William snorted slightly.
'Thanks, Cortana. It's been my honor, too.'
'Master Chief?' It was Kelly. 'Us, too.' The other Spartans' lights blinked affirmative.
'Aww,' Cortana cooed. 'I knew you spartans were softies.'
John smiled. OK, maybe a little positive emotion was good for the team. He realized that he missed thinking about the 'good of the team'. He wondered if it was loneliness. No, he thought. He had spent so much time fighting on his own lately without his spartan compatriots. Obviously he was quite effective in that role. But that was not the role he had trained for. From the age of six, he had been a part of a team of warriors, working together for a common purpose. From the age of eight, he was the leader of that team, and his concern for the team and their mission had long superseded concern for himself. Leading these Spartans was his first and best duty. This role was his destiny.
The second door opened. The covenant had regrouped and were much better organized this time. No matter. The Spartans responded and adapted so quickly to the covenant defense that their reactions appeared to precede the covenant's actions. Cortana had very little to say, and could marvel at the spartans' efficiency. She had viewed some of the archives, particularly the Capture the Flag files, and obviously had experienced Master Chief's fighting abilities. It was another thing to actually watch the Spartans as a team. If war could ever be art, this is it, thought Cortana.
As Cortana watched the cruel beauty of the spartans' choreographed dance of war, perhaps the most striking aspect was the cool dispassionate tone of the Spartans. Cortana had noted earlier that, as the tension and adrenaline increase in battle, so does the volume and intensity of the vocalizations of almost all humans, often to ear-splitting levels (if Cortana had ears). Not here. The Spartans' chatter was a combination of flashing lights and simple commands spoken with the intensity of someone asking for salt at the dinner table.
'Ten o'clock. Flanking. Advance left. Taking cover, charging shields. Charged. Lay suppressing fire, one o'clock. Sniper at 2 o'clock. Sniper down. Reloading. Advance right.'
And just like that, the Spartans were through the second level, picking up more covenant weapons, and heading towards the third and last elevator.
While waiting, Kelly called out to the rest of the Spartans. 'Hey, you all remember the Spartans in the battle of Thermopylae, right?'
'Of course', Frederic said. 'How can we forget? We all grew up with that story.'
'Well, did you know that all the Spartans died in that battle?'
Linda turned halfway towards Kelly. 'No, they all survived.'
'No, they all died. It was the last of the Spartans.'
Linda now turned fully towards Kelly. 'But Deja told us…'
Kelly cut Linda off. 'Deja didn't tell us the whole story. The Spartans died on a hill in the center of the valley, surrounded on all sides. Dr. Halsey had Deja leave out that part, to help instill the belief that we could survive anything, any odds.'
William shook his head. 'That is…highly ironic. Why tell us right now?'
Kelly paused slightly, and then said 'I thought you guys would appreciate the irony.'
The third door opened, and John closed it immediately, just in time to cut off a burst of plasma from a large stationary gun near the control panel. Several jackals and drones were caught in the friendly fire and were instantly killed. So much for covenant morale, thought Cortana. John tried the door again, only to have to close it again. '058,' John called out. Linda was at the door, and John opened the door again. Linda peeked out, and the door was closed again to avoid another barrage.
Linda shook her head. 'No. No shot.'
The Master Chief thought for a second. Time was getting short. He called 104 over to the door panel, stood in front of the door, and pulled out a plasma grenade with his left hand.
'Bet you can't stick it,' Cortana whispered playfully in his ear.
'You're on,' the Master Chief replied.
John nodded towards Frederic, and Frederic opened the door. John heaved the grenade, and Frederic closed the door. There was a palpable silence from the other side of the door, and then a sizeable explosion. Frederic opened the door again, and Linda peeked through.
'Target neutralized. Nice throw.'
'I've had a lot of practice lately. And what was the bet, Cortana?'
Frederic opened the door and the Spartans rushed out. Getting to the control panel would be straightforward, as on the move the Spartans were unstoppable. Holding that position to set the ordnance was another matter, however, with the Spartans surrounded on all sides without the freedom to move.
The Spartans took the control panel easily, punctuated by John-117 punting a Grunt out of the way 75 feet to its death. William got to work preparing the ordnance while the rest of the Spartans set up a perimeter around him, shielding him while he worked.
The Spartans were getting pounded from all sides. The last remnants of the old covenant poured everything they had left at the control panel, knowing that their conventional weapons could not harm it. The bodies of Covenant began to pile up around the Spartans, and still the Covenant kept coming. All of the Spartans' shields were starting to fail. The status light for Linda's shield in John's helmet went red as a Jackal sniper hit her. Damn snipers, she thought. She maintained her position. Soon after, the status light for Linda herself also went red. The three other Spartans shifted to cover for Linda's passing.
'How much longer?' John asked, almost pleasantly. Frederic's shield status light went red after a burst of needlers exploded against his armor. Frederic held position.
'Soon,' William replied. Frederic's status light went red. John and Kelly again shifted positions to cover, kicking Covenant bodies out of the way as they went. Both their shield status lights went red simultaneously when a plasma grenade went off nearby. They held their positions.
'Now. It's a go.'
'Do it.'
With that, William pressed the button, and everything within the Ark was incinerated in a nuclear fireball. Truth. The rest of the jackals, the rest of the drones, the rest of the brutes. The control panel. And the last of the Spartans.
The Spartans, of course, had known this was a one-way journey. Success would mean setting the ordnance and activating it while they were still in the Ark. Either that, or they would die trying. Those were the 'parameters of the mission.'
Sergeant Johnson and Miranda Keyes watched, ten miles from the ark, quite safe from the effects of an underground nuclear explosion.
'Those were some nice fireworks,' Sarge commented. 'I guess the Master Chief is dead. Well, every war has casualties.'
'I suppose so, Sarge.'
'Yeah, Master Chief, Cortana, your dad, that split-chin Arby, even that Gravemind dude. Who'd have thought that big ugly piece of flood crap would turn out to be an ally? This war's over, anyhow. It's going to be hard to be friends with those split-chins, after pumping lead into them for so long.'
'Times change. You should probably stop calling them that. Yes, this war's over. How about a beer, Sarge? I'm buying.'
'You're buying? Well, I'm not one to refuse a drink from a pretty lady. I'll give you a cigar as an exchange.' Johnson flashed the commander a big, toothy smile.
'Uh, no thanks. And don't get any ideas, Sarge. Remember, I'm you're CO. And you're a little old for me.'
'Old?! I'm like a good whiskey, burnished perfectly with age.'
'OK, sarge', Miranda said, chuckling softly.
'All right! Never mind! Well, I have this friend…'
'Sarge…'
Sergeant Johnson and Commander Miranda Keyes walked off to the nearest tent that passed itself off as a bar, where they could contemplate the war just past, and their future without a war. Thanks to the last of the spartans, Sarge, the commander, and the rest of humanity had a future to contemplate.
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