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The End of a War - Chapter 1
Posted By: Mr. Clark<mrclark84@hotmail.com>
Date: 7 February 2005, 7:29 PM
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The End of a War
Chapter 1
Whatever Happened to Making a Truce?
Commander Miranda Keyes UNSC, followed the towering Elite before her uneasily, her left hand never straying far from the handgun situated in the waistband of her pants. Behind her Sergeant Johnson and several other Elites along with the monitor, 343 Guilty Spark, marched along slowly, attempting to leave the control room.
A tense atmosphere had descended upon the group once 343 Guilty Spark had acknowledged that the location of the Ark was located upon the planet known as Earth. After a short conversation it was decided that attempting to leave the installation was the best idea for now. It had only been a moment before the uneasy feeling had descended upon Keyes. She was walking with creatures that had been waging an all-out war upon the human race and were determined to wipe it off the face of existence.
"We have reached the surface," the Elite in the lead announced. He was the one that had killed Tartarus, the Brute that had been trying to activate Halo's main weapon. This Elite was dressed differently than the others. His armor was in a more ceremonial design than the heavy armor that was traditional garb for the other Elites.
The Elite walked them through several rooms that looked as if someone had set of a box of plasma grenades.
"What happened here?" she asked. The Elite in front of her turned and pointed at Sergeant Johnson. Glancing behind her, Johnson grinned at Miranda as he fished through his pocket for a cigar.
"I found a Scarab sitting around so I decided to see what the big fuss was about."
She was about to enquire further when the Elite pushed aside some rubble and the scent of fresh air assaulted them. Turning back Keyes saw outside of the control room. She exited the installation and stood upon the docking platform, the others falling out behind her. Once more she found herself captivated by the natural beauty the landscape projected. Had the forerunners appreciated nature so much that they built such wondrous lands to cover the ring?
"What are we going to do about a ride?" Sergeant Johnson inquired as he stepped up to the very edge of the platform and glanced down. "I'm not much for freestyle diving."
The Elite in the ceremonial gear turned and looked out down at the far beachhead.
"Our ride will be here momentarily," he said simply, and motioned one of the other Elites to come with him as he walked to the far end of the platform.
Seeing as how the others were distracted, Miranda took the chance and motioned for Sergeant Johnson to approach.
"Things are getting terribly fucked up wouldn't you say ma'am?" Johnson commented as he took his trademark cigar from his mouth and tapped the ash over the side of the platform.
Miranda shared that sentiment but decided to simply nod her head. She glanced over to where the two Elites were now talking.
"Sergeant, do you know what significance that Elite's battle armor signifies?" she asked. Johnson looked over at the Elite and the grin slipped from his mouth.
"The armor he's wearing identifies him as 'The Arbiter', some kind of special Elite," Johnson explained. "We've never encountered one of them before, but I've heard nearly every Elite around here speak of him with a lot of reverence. Not sure if that makes him some kind of super-soldier like the Chief, but I happened to overhear one of those Brutes back in High Charity saying that every Arbiter dies from the duties expected of him. I don't know what the Prophets had him doing, but either way, that Elite is one hell of a soldier."
It felt odd, hearing praise from a human for a Covenant warrior. But it would seem that the Elites were now in the same position as the humans. The Prophets and the remaining members of the Covenant were seeking the Elites destruction, a situation mankind knew only too well.
Would this mean some form of alliance was needed between the two groups? Miranda glanced at the other Elites, who had grouped up and were standing near the doorway, watching the her and Johnson closely.
No, there had already been far too much fighting and death between the two groups for an all out truce to pass. The Prophets may have betrayed the Elites, but it certainly didn't mean they would come running to mankind for help. It was the same for what was left of the humans. The Elites had led the charge, destroying planet after planet that man inhabited, murdering all who dwelled there. The bad blood between the groups couldn't be solved with such simple motivation.
"We will be picked up by that dropship, human," the Arbiter announced from beside Miranda. She had been so deep in thought that she hadn't noticed him approach.
"The lady has a name, and rank," Sergeant Johnson said nastily. "I suggest you learn it."
The two soldiers regarded each other. The Arbiter stood well over two meters, towering over Johnson, but the hardened marine stood there imperviously, his gaze never faltering.
As quickly as it came, the tense moment passed. The Arbiter turned from Johnson and looked out away from the structure to where a Covenant dropship was fast approaching.
"When we get onboard, it would be wise not to wander about," the Arbiter said, before adding stiffly, "Commander."
That remark generated silence as the Arbiter stepped into the mini-gravity lift generated by the dropship. Johnson and Keyes went up next, followed by the other Elites and the monitor. The Arbiter led them to a small room, ordained with a large table and chairs.
"You will wait here, we have a base set up a ways away. Once there we will come up with a strategy on how to deal with the Ark," the Arbiter announced before nodding briefly at the other Elites and exiting the room.
"He doesn't mince words does he?" Johnson remarked to Keyes, settling down as best he could in the oversized chairs. They were obviously intended for Elites to use.
'Who would have ever thought that two humans would be sitting as guests aboard a Covenant ship?' Miranda thought to herself. She would have been more amused, had it not been for the events over the past few days. The Covenant assault on Earth, the random jump through Slip Space by the Prophet of Regret, and the discovery of another Halo. She felt her head throb with the onset of a headache, a sure sign that she was stressed out. Her thoughts shifted over to the Master Chief, who undoubtedly was somewhere on this godforsaken ring. The Spartan had fought with her father when Reach fell, and had fled with him to the first Halo.
Even for a Spartan, the Master Chief was truly amazing. The man defied odds that even an entire human battalion would fail against. He had earned the title of 'Demon' from the Covenant, a sign that even humanity's enemy revered him.
If there was one thing a person remembered most after meeting him, it would be his presence. Incased in the Mjolnir armor he carried the appearance of an emotionless killer, a machine engineered for the purpose of dealing death. It was true the Spartans had been developed as weapons, but the Master Chief's demeanor was one of strength, purpose and hope. Simply his presence on a battlefield brought hope to an otherwise hopeless situation. Panicking soldiers would calm at the sight of him, and they would return fire and counterattack with renewed strength. The enemy would pause in their assault once they caught glimpse of his green armor.
When Reach fell, if the Master Chief had not fled on the Pillar of Autumn and instead been killed along with the remaining Spartans, there would be no hope of victory against the Covenant. With destruction looming only moments away, Earth felt hope when the Spartan's image appeared. He was humanity's last weapon.
That thought rang through Miranda's head for a moment.
"Sergeant," she began slowly, "do we know what happened to the Master Chief?"
Johnson shook his head, "No ma'am, he disappeared after the Covenant fried that structure Regret was holed up in."
A voice came from behind Miranda, nearly startling her out of her chair.
"The Demon? He is no longer on this Ring, the Parasite leader sent him to High Charity to stop the Prophets."
Miranda turned and saw the Arbiter standing behind her, his gaze bearing down on her and Johnson. This Elite moved far too quietly for her tastes.
"The leader of the Flood?" Johnson questioned. "You mean to tell me those things answer to some kind of leader?"
The Arbiter turned to Johnson and nodded, his mandibles clicking as he did so.
"It recovered both I, and the Demon, instructing us that we must stop the key from turning. It possessed the ability to bend space and transport us thousands of miles away in a mere moment."
"Just what we fucking need," Johnson muttered to himself.
"If the Chief is still on High Charity, than we have to pick him up," Keyes said. "Were going to need him to stop the Prophets from activating the Ark."
The Arbiter shook his head slightly. "I have received word that High Charity has been taken over by the Parasite. They have taken control of the city. If the Demon is still there, he has been killed."
Miranda was about to respond when Johnson snorted.
"Listen boy, it would take more than some city full of Flood to take down the Chief. He's not one to bow to pressure. I would have thought you Elites would know that by now."
The Arbiter stared at Johnson for a moment before turning away.
"The point is moot anyways," he began, "All that remains on the Holy Ring are transport craft and dropships. We must return to High Charity and acquire a ship capable of entering Slip Space. Once we reach the Elite base, we will inform what remains of our force about what transpired in the control room and then set out. You, Commander, and the sergeant, will not leave my side for an instant once we debark."
"You don't trust us?" Miranda asked, before nearly smacking her forehead for asking such a stupid question.
The Arbiter turned and stared at Keyes for a long moment before shrugging his massive shoulders.
"It is not that I do not trust you humans, it is the others that I am wary of. Just because you travel with me does not change the fact that you are humans, and we have a sworn duty to destroy your kind."
"So you would continue to fight mankind," Miranda said, a cold lump forming in her stomach. "Even knowing your Prophets betrayed you?"
The ship shuddered to a stop, and Miranda glanced outside to see that they were now on the ground.
"I would not worry about myself, Commander," the Arbiter said, walking out of the room, beckoning the others to follow. "I shall never kill another human for the rest of my life."
The Arbiter's words dissolved the cold feeling that had descended on Keyes, and she found herself smiling despite the situation. If there were other Elites were like this one, than perhaps peace could be achieved.
Their arrival had garnered a large crowd, Elites, Grunts, and even Hunters. Many of which let loose a mighty cheer when the Arbiter stepped out of the dropship. He seemed unaffected by the praise, as he simply turned and waited for the humans to debark. The cheers that had erupted so quickly, died just as quickly when Commander Keyes and Sergeant Johnson stepped free of the gravity-lift. Once more the Arbiter seemed to be oblivious to the reactions of the other Covenant, waiting for Miranda and Johnson to catch up before leading them away from the ship.
The Elites, Hunters, and Grunts that had managed to avoid termination by the Brutes and the Flood had retreated to the ring, setting up a base in one of Halo's many research stations. From here they were able to listen in on the chatter-net to the sounds of those on High Charity slowly and efficiently be destroyed by the Flood.
Seko 'Ekaporamee, the leader of Covenant Special Forces Units, was standing before the research station as they approached.
"So Arbiter, it would seem Tartarus was no match for our savior," 'Ekaporamee said in way of greeting. Normally the Elite was able to control his voice despite his disfigured mandibles, but in severe cases of exhaustion his words were slurred. Obviously he had done his fair share of fighting while the Arbiter had been battling with Tartarus.
"I am afraid to say that it would seem the death of Tartarus is only a small ripple in the grand scheme of things, Major," the Arbiter said. "There is much to discuss, and these humans as well as the Oracle will help me explain."
------------------------------
Luckily for the Master Chief, Lord Hood had been able to stop the firing sequence for the MAC gun before it could try and put a round through the Forerunner ship. He wasn't sure if the shot would have actually harmed the craft in some way, but it would for sure give the Covenant aboard reason to try and take that gun out.
So far John had been fortunate. The lower maintenance levels of the ship were relatively unguarded. Engineers fluttered about but they were ignorant of his presence. His interaction with them in the past had been the same. They moved about in a kind of stupor.
It was times like these the Master Chief truly missed Cortana's presence inside his mind. Granted she could be overbearing at times, and she often used his suit as if he were a battle cruiser but she was at least someone he could speak with. Ever since Reach fell, the Master Chief had been fighting without his fellow Spartans, the men and women he had grown up with were his family. After Reach, John had been forced to fight by himself, depending on no one but himself. This development had left him without a sense of security, as if every little action he took held the balance of whether or not millions would perish or live.
He was a Spartan, designed to fight and win under the most extreme cases of pressure, and if one were to look at his record, they would be inclined to believe that he was capable of overcoming odds that were so far against his favor that the only explanation for his survival would be that he were a God. With the responsibility of being the last Spartan alive, John carried the hope of humanity upon his shoulders. Such a weight could not be supported before troubling emotions set in.
Having Cortana with him while he fought was almost like being back with his unit. She was as tactical as a Spartan, if not more so, and was always prepared for any situation that might arise in the midst of battle.
Here on the Forerunner ship, the Master Chief found himself wishing for the intrusion Cortana presented when occupying his mind.
I must be going insane, John thought to himself as he peered down a corridor. Next I'll be wishing that I could run through one of CPO Mendez's survival exercises again.
The corridor looked empty, so John slid around the corner and hurried down it. The Forerunner's seemed to prefer making their ships confusing in their general architecture. It made for hard navigating, but it did make sense. What better way to insure that somebody attempting a hostile boarding would get lost than to make the ship so damn confusing even having the layout of the place wouldn't help.
Just as he was about to turn the next corner the Master Chief heard heavy breathing and the sound of shuffling feet. Heavy feet, to be precise. Stopping his charge, he leaned into the wall, waiting for the enemy to appear. He was certain a pair of Brutes were about to come around the corner.
His assumption was proven correct as two Brutes walked past the turn in the corridor. The last thing they expected to see was a human, let alone the one they called 'Demon', so there was a moments pause before their brains kicked into gear.
That moment of surprise was all the inclination John
needed. His Battle Rifle was out and he aimed a vicious butt stroke across the chin of the first Brute. It fell to the ground, hard, sliding across the floor until its momentum was halted by the wall. The second Brute, seeing what had just occurred, quickly charged John, intending to knock him to the ground.
The Master Chief had expected the maneuver, and when the Brute swung its massive arms at him he dove to the side avoiding the attack and, quickly planting one foot on the bulkhead, launched himself at the overextended Brute, landing a hard elbow into its neck. The Brute may have had the superior bulk, but John's momentum knocked it into the wall. Wasting no time, the Master Chief grabbed the Plasma Rifle from it's belt and shoved it against the Brute's face, holding down the trigger. The weapon overheated and John tossed it aside, letting the Brute's lifeless body slump to the ground.
By now the first Brute had risen to it's feet, and was snarling angrily at him. His adrenaline burning, the Master Chief charged the Brute, dropping his Battle Rifle to the side as he did so. The Brute had obviously not expected for the Chief to run straight at him, but he was not loath to pass the opportunity aside. When the Master Chief was within arm's reach it ducked down and aimed a savage punch to his midsection.
John planted his left foot firmly on the ground, the Brute's fist a mere centimeter from his and pivoted to the right, avoiding the attack by a narrow margin. Before the Brute could take into consideration that his attack had failed, John had slammed a fist into the Brute's face. If not for the helmet the Brute was wearing, it's skull would have been crushed from the pressure. The Mjolnir armor as well as the genetic enhancements made the Spartans powerful enough to lift a Scorpion-class tank. A well-delivered punch could break through a ship's bulkhead.
The Brute slammed to the ground, and before it could recover the Master Chief threw himself on top of him, reaching back and sending another punch into the Brute's face. The helmet gave way under the Chief's unyielding attack, and there was a loud crack as his fist drove the Brute's head into the floor. The body twitched for several moments spasmodically before finally stopping.
His heart was beating wildly as he got to his feet, reclaiming his discarded weapon. With luck his encounter with these Brutes had gone unnoticed. John was in no hurry to have every Covenant on board come barreling down on him.
He continued on his way, moving down the hallways the two Brutes had come from. There was a small window off the port side, and he took the opportunity to glance outside. The ship was still in orbit around Earth. The fighting between the remainder of the Covenant fleet and the orbital defense stations still raged on.
Why would the Prophet of Truth be content to sit back and watch the battle from afar when it was certain that this Forerunner ship could easily beat back Earth's defenses?
Regardless of what was going on, the Master Chief needed to make it to the bridge before the ship decided to enter the fight.
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