 |
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
|
|
|
The Reckoning- Chapters 3-4
Posted By: Miguel<bludawg7@hotmail.com>
Date: 17 February 2005, 1:43 AM
Read/Post Comments
|
The Reckoning
Chapter 3: Insertion
The u-shaped Covenant dropship screamed out of the launch bay. The uncomfortably cramped interior was well lit with off-blue lighting, and lined with tall chairs molded to fit an Elite's back. Hamammee went over his equipment again. He carried a plasma rifle with 3 spare power cores, 4 plasma grenades, plasma sword, and a back-up plasma pistol. The rest of the Covenant warriors went over their equipment as well. Most carried a similar compliment of weapons as he did, as all Elite commandos usually did.
These troops were the best, and although Ossoonas might be stealthier, Mogomo's Commandos were renown throughout the fleet for being the best in combat, stealthy or not. The red-armored Elite next to Hamammee hefted his weapon, a new prototype Covenant Carbine, and aimed it at the floor. Satisfied, he set it aside and ignited a plasma sword. He cut shapes into the air, then examined the glowing blade of pure energy. The sword closed, and Hamammee watched as he unclipped for a plasma grenade on his belt. He moved to ignite it... Hamammee opened his mandibles to protest a warning, then suddenly the Commando gave Hamammee a sideways look and let out a hearty laugh.
"Don't worry commander, I've been doing this for decades."
Hamammee let out the breath he had been holding. How dare this unkempt warrior toy with his commander!
"Do that again, and you will be severely punished, commando or not."
The elite laughed once more, then returned to his self-administered equipment check.
Hamammee was about to respond, then was interrupted when the pilot announced that the dropship had entered the ring's atmosphere and would arrive at the pre-arranged drop zone in 10 units. He and Mogomo had selected a LZ close to a large forerunner structure, in a more arboreal region of the ring. The cruiser's sensors were still damaged, so finding the artifact's control center and index, if it even had one, would be close to impossible. So they decided based on previous forays into sacred rings and chose a likely area for insertion. Hamammee did not like landing blind without any forward scouting, but that Human frigate was not going to sit idle for long to let them find out.
Turbulence rocked the dropship, and the dropship careened over a grassy plateau. The plasma turret scanned the area as the ship settled in an open clearing. The side doors opened, and 12 heavily armed commando Elites exited and moved to nearby rocks for cover. The dropship lifted off and circled once around the group, scanning the area for hostiles, then quickly accelerated into the atmosphere and out of sight.
"Elements 1 and 2 are in place, Commander." Mogomo's voice whispered from the comm.
Hamammee looked around. They were in a large grassy plain, with hilly terrain, surrounding cliffs and a sharp drop to their rear. So basically, the only way they could go was uphill, towards the shadowy Forerunner structure in the distance. Hamammee retrieved his Plasma Rifle.
"Okay, Furooti, lets move out. Split your commandos into 4 groups of 3, and keep aware. There is no telling what this ring harbors."
Fresh memories of the Flood outbreak on the previous ring Hamammee was assigned to sprang into his consciousness. His comrades, falling one by one, slowly overwhelmed by countless monsters, always attacking, never tiring, thirsting for their blood...
"Commander?"
The red Elite Hamammee had encountered earlier snapped him out of his reverie.
"We are moving now."
"Okay soldier, continue without me."
The Elite marched briskly ahead, crunching footsteps into vibrant green grass. Hamammee waited for Mogomo to catch up.
"Who is that Elite there, clad with the colors of a veteran?" Hamammee gestured with a long golden arm.
"That is Kimaree sir, one of my best warriors. Should I summon him?"
"No, but remind me to look into him later, I always need another good bodyguard. How far to the structure?"
"A half-kilometer commander, we should by there in 4 units, give or take a few."
"Good."
The expedition continued, through a narrow bend, following a small stream, before halting in front of the Forerunner structure. A scout was sent to investigate the interior of the single door, then the rest of the group ventured forth into the cold, dark facility. The Elites on point activated their armor's built-in lighting and led the way. The corridor they had entered was massive, perhaps 9 meters tall and 7 meters wide and continued, sloping deeper and deeper past smaller branching corridors which they ignored until a large door blocked their passage. Lights on the door glowed a dull red, indicating that it was locked. Mogomo motioned to one of his commandos. A dark blue Elite approached the door, pulled out a compact electronic device and mounted it on the door. After a few seconds, the lights changed green and the doors slid open quietly.
The interior of the room was pitch black. The already quiet commandos engaged in a soundless flurry of hand-signals. One by one, the Elites slinked inside, covering each other and ready for anything. Hamammee was second to go, right behind Mogomo himself. They both approached the doorway leading to uncertainty and possibly an ambush. Hamammee scanned the dark area in front of him, sweeping it with the plasma rifle clenched in his armored hands. For the first time in years, fear took hold of his body, and he fought the urge to run the other direction. He quickly banished such cowardly thoughts from his head. Even the high intensity light beams from the Elite's armor suits seemed to fail against the prevailing darkness. In an instant, the room became brightly illuminated. Hamammee tensed, and his beady black eyes adjusted. The large room was rectangular, with 5 doors, one at the far end and 2 on either opposing sides.
The Elites dispersed in a rough 'delta' formation and converged on the center of the room. The commandos scanned the room for targets ... nothing. Mogomo opened his mandibles to speak, but was cut off by a loud clanging. The Elites looked and brought their weapons to bear in unison at one of the doors. Another load clang resounded through the room. Something large, something very large, was breaking the door down from the other side. The Elites stepped away from the door, keeping their weapons trained on it and their eyes open. The door finally gave and clattered to the floor in pieces. A tidal wave of pale flesh burst through the doorway and approached the group. Flood infection forms. They opened fire all at once. The silent room became a deafening cacophony of whining plasma rifles and other weapon discharges. Amidst plasma fire and shattering needles, Hamammee was able to glimpse the other doors breaking down as well. Soon they would be overwhelmed. Like on the other ring, Hamammee thought grimly to himself. Mogomo had evidently come to the same conclusion.
"Move towards the exit." Mogomo instructed.
The group complied and edged towards the door from which they had come, firing at the enemy who now surrounded them on nearly all sides.
Hamammee fired his weapon into an incoming row of infection forms and watched them pop into a fine mist of sickly green blood. A pod popped on his shield. The shield indicator bar flicked a hairsbreadth. Four more popped on his protective coating in quick succession. This was going to get hairy really fast. They were almost at the door now... and then a fresh batch of Flood infection forms burst from that doorway as well. Now they were completely surrounded, and running low on running room. Nothing to do but fight, and they fought well. More doors burst open, and waves upon waves of infection forms bobbed out to meet their opponents, throwing their bodies forward, eager for flesh. At last, all of the Elites stood in the center of the room, beset on all sides by infection forms. They fought furiously, driven by their desire to survive and succeed, but were hopelessly outnumbered. They could not hope to survive, not with odds like this. A flood infection form flew towards Hamammee's helmet...
Suddenly, each one of the Elites in the entire group were surrounded by a halo of light which consumed them, leaving no trace of them at all to evidence their departure.
The Reckoning
Chapter 4: The Foundation
Captain Taylor was in a dilemma. Sergeant Abrams stood patiently at ease in the room, awaiting his decision. Taylor had one of either two choices. He could send Sergeant Abrams and his team to the ring, but risk engaging the Covenant cruiser. But if he waited for Admiral Cole, the Covenant could be gone by then. Such decisions always made commanding hectic. Taylor sighed and sat up straight in his chair.
"Given the circumstances, what do you think we should do Sergeant?"
"Sir? .... I think it would be wise to wait for reinforcements. Should the Covenant recover what they are looking for before then, we could always engage the cruiser and ensure that they do not leave. And even if they did escape, we still know the location of this... ring, and could examine it more closely later."
Taylor looked the Sergeant over, thinking. He made the decision. Taylor hit the comm to contact the bridge.
"Anthony, I want a message to be sent to Admiral Cole via long distance communications. Tell him the coordinates of this structure, and our situation, as well as scans of the object we have discovered. Give it encryption, code x-ray, and send it on alpha channel."
"Yes sir, sending. Um, sir? The Covenant has dispatched a dropship to the ring's surface."
"Not surprising. Ok Lieutenant Anthony, once you have the dropship's destination, relay it to Sergeant Abram's personal communicator."
The comm snapped off. Taylor turned back to the Sergeant.
"Prepare your men, Sergeant. I'm making a compromise; we will send your men to the surface of the ring to find out exactly why the Covenant are here, but I will launch your dropships from a safe distance, say, about 70 kilometers. Should the Covenant choose to engage us, well, let us hope the Admiral gets here in time. I want you to land where the Covenant are landing, and trail them to what ever the hell they're after. Do you get me Sergeant?"
"Yes sir, completely sir."
"Good, now move, the faster we get this done, the faster we can decide what to do with our Covenant friends."
The sergeant saluted and marched briskly out of the room. Captain Taylor watched him go, silently praying that he would return safely.
Fifteen minutes later the Fateless maneuvered tentatively closer to the structure and two Pelicans rocketed out of its launch bay. A pair of Longsword fighters followed close behind on escort.
Sergeant Abrams stood in the middle aisle of the lead Pelican, bracing himself against the floor in the zero-gravity environment.
"Listen up men, we are making a hostile insertion deep into uncharted territory, against a superior enemy. We've fought these aliens on our share of missions together, and just because these bastards ain't human doesn't mean they ain't flesh and blood. Heck, I even know a couple of you who have been fortunate enough to have killed a couple of them too. So now, who is ready to kick some alien ass?"
"HOORAH!"
"That's right. Now gear up, strap in, and enjoy the ride ladies."
The sergeant strapped down into his seat and nodded to the pilot. She snapped a mock salute in return.
"Hang on" the pilot said and pushed the throttle. The ship rocketed forward and the other ships followed suit.
Captain Taylor watched the ships rapidly disappeared from the main display, then turned to Anthony.
"Any word from our Admiral?"
"No sir."
"Keep me posted."
"Yes sir."
Taylor would need the reinforcements, he had the sinking feeling that this was going to escalate, and soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Zuka Hamammee was bewildered. He was in a fantasy world, filled with pin points of glowing light and swirling patterns. He had the sensation of blinding speed even though it appeared that he was motionless. Suddenly, as quick as it came, it was over. Rings of light descended over him, leaving him in a large room, devoid of any features. Nothing but an enormous door, lights overhead, grooves in the floor, and various geometric patterns adorning the walls. Perhaps 12 meters by 12 meters was the size, and immediately Hamammee scanned the room for the enemy. Nothing hostile greeted him.
Hamammee looked around, 4 other elites flanked him, equally confused. Where were the others, where was Mogomo....?
An amber contact of a neutral appeared on his motion detector. Hamammee spun to face a peculiar glowing, floating ball of some sort. He squinted at it, when it moved to look at him with a single blue electronic eye.
"Greetings, I am 910 Repentant Gleam. I am the monitor of the installation 00 Foundation. There has been another Flood outbreak, which must be contained immediately. While you are not a true Reclaimer, the Foundation does not require one to be activated, unlike the other 7 installations. Therefore, you have been chosen as the Reclaimer to activate the installation's defenses."
Hamammee examined the object, remembering similar monitors on other Halo rings. Repentant Gleam returned the favor, scrutinizing Hamammee and his small group of confused Elites.
"Where are my other commandos?"
Repentant Gleam hung his head, or more accurately, the entire orb of a body.
"Teleportation requires immense levels of energy. I was not able to bring your entire party here." The Monitor said bluntly.
"Where are they?"
"I'm sorry, but they've most likely already been assimilated by the Flood. There is no chance of survival for them."
Hamammee stifled his temper, barely. He thought of Mogomo, Dekanee, and the other fine soldiers under his command, now lost to the vile life forms that threaten to overrun this universe.
"Commander, orders?" Kimaree asked hesitantly.
Hamammee turned to Kimaree.
"This monitor will be the quickest way to the Arc. We should follow him and see..."
"The Arc?" The monitor interjected incredulously. "I am sorry, but this installation does not contain the Arc."
Hamammee was speechless. If this is not the Arc, then what is it?
"What exactly is this installation's purpose?" Hamammee asked.
"Why, it is the Foundation of course." He replied matter-of-factly.
"Explain."
"The Forerunners constructed this ring prior to any of the other rings. This installation was purposed to be a blueprint for future constructs. Its efficiency at containing the Flood was gauged, and necessary modifications acted upon in the other rings. The mistakes evident in this installation were used to create the other rings with minimal chance of outbreaks. One such mistake was the amount of Flood contained here. No other ring has nearly a comparable amount of Flood"
"But enough of that, the entities need to be awakened in order to contain the Flood. The Reckoning must be accomplished! Hurry, follow me."
"The entities? Who ...."
Hamammee opened his mandibles to protest. He had so many unanswered questions. But 910 Repentant Gleam had already zipped away through the single enormous door. The Elites followed the monitor on Hamammee's command at a slow trot. And as the first group of Flood rounded the corner at the end of the long hall, he knew that the battle for this ring's index was just beginning.
|
