 |
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
|
|
|
Halo: Reclaimer Part one: Ticket to Ride
Posted By: T. K. Niemann<tkniemann@yahoo.com>
Date: 21 May 2002, 8:21 am
Read/Post Comments
|
"I think we've got a problem."
Cortana's voice swirled around the Master Chief, everywhere and nowhere at once. He had long ago grown accustomed to the phenomenon. In a way, she was all around him, coursing the electronic pathways of the Longsword fighter that had recently become their home. Her simulated voice had been the only voice he'd heard for some time. While the AI was as good a conversationalist as could be hoped for, the echoes of all the other voices, the ones he knew he'd never hear again, still haunted him. The Master Chief could not forget the Marines he'd fought with and for, all the soldiers he'd left to die on Halo.
He banished those thoughts as he'd done many times before and began pulling up the ship's maintenance logs for inspection. Now was not the time.
"What kind of problem, Cortana?" As he spoke, the Master Chief accessed the maintenance work he'd done last week. Keeping a ship that was meant for brief, intense use running for months was tricky at best. Since the destruction of Halo, however, he and Cortana were without any other choice and much of their time had been spent diagnosing and addressing the Longsword's technical shortcomings and making adjustments as they went. In other words, they were jury-rigging the thing when it broke and crossing their fingers. "The nuclear manifolds seem to be holding better than we'd thought."
"It's not that simple, I'm afraid." Her semi-transparent form flickered into being above the console before the Master Chief. Some might have considered her form attractive had it not been a holographic projection of flowing data streams. "Not that simple at all."
The Master Chief spared her a glance. She didn't look happy.
"Covenant?"
Cortana nodded. "Our scanners picked up the hyperjump signature of one of their Alpha-7 class battle cruisers a few moments ago. I had hoped it was a misreading of a human jump signature, but it only took me a few sweeps to forget that idea. Human ships don't leak plasma coolant, and this ship's been doing nothing but."
The Master Chief drew in a long breath of recycled air. His life, it seemed, was defined only as a struggle against these creatures. What else had there ever been? Something in him was weary of it all, weary of constant battle, weary of the grave duties he had been given. Something deep in the Master Chief wanted nothing more than to live the normal life other Marines spoke of.
Something deeper still, however, burned with thirsty excitement. Something in his deepest place rejoiced and called out that it was time to dance the only dance he had ever known.
"How long before they're on us?"
"Analyzing." The AI construct paused, symbolically touching her forehead. "That's odd. I don't think they know we're here. The cruiser's local sensors must be out, something to do with the coolant leak. Yes, that seems right. And since we haven't jumped recently, our hyper signature isn't giving us away."
Looking over the data Cortana was pulling up, the Master Chief mentally reviewed his options.
"So they won't know we're here unless we try to jump out?"
"Or until they fix whatever problem caused them to drop out of subspace in the first place, yes," she corrected. "There is a good chance they'll spot us then. About eighty nine percent chance, I calculated."
The Master Chief rose from the command seat and paced the vessel's small bridge.
"Any estimates on how long before that happens?"
Cortana paused again. "Negative. This ship's scanners are too limited to make such evaluations. All I can say is that it seems an internal problem made her drop from subspace, so we can forget hoping to see allied forces pressing the attack. Beyond that I'm in the dark."
"Very well. Keep me posted."
Staring out into the blackness of space, the Master Chief began to think.
"Sir? You want me to do what?"
The Master Chief was back at the command screen, working furiously. "You heard me. Get to it. We don't know how much time we have until their scanners come back online."
"That's exactly my point," Cortana countered, hands on her hips. "This is madness!"
Her holographic body sputtered as the Master Chief jammed the ship into full acceleration. After a few seconds, he shut the engines off entirely and let the Longsword drift.
"Maybe."
The AI glared at him, as much as an AI can glare.
"You do realize we're going toward the Covenant cruiser, don't you? You're a good pilot, Master Chief, but nobody's that good."
"I know. Did you send that message yet?" He slipped the MJOLNIR's helmet on and felt the familiar hiss and click of its air tight seal.
Cortana groaned and several beeps sounded from the command console. "Yes, it's going out. They'll pick it up long before any human ship, you know. Now will you tell me what you hope to accomplish with this?"
The Master Chief went back to work on the console himself. "In a minute." He tapped a series of buttons with finality. "There."
"Uh, Chief," the AI asked gingerly, "I know the air supply in your battlesuit is self contained, but did you mean to vent the ship's oxygen reserves into space?"
He did not look up. "Yes."
A few button taps later he added, "And there goes our fuel."
Cortana's projection flared angrily.
"Are you totally off your rocker? What do you think you're doing? I know the Halo incident was stressful for us all and...oh, wait, wait. I see it now..."
He continued with his preparations.
Cortana arched an electric eyebrow. "You wouldn't."
The Master Chief could not help but smile.
"If you've got a better plan, I'll take it into consideration." He came to his feet and stepped over to a nearby weapons locker to review his ammunition stores.
The AI was speechless for a moment.
She then shrugged and sighed. "I suppose I'll kill the life support systems."
"That a-girl."
The bridge of Kal'Khok's ship was, by nature, a quiet place. If things were running as they should in his little world, the bridge of the Atonement would be all but silent. The only things to be heard would be the soft purr of the ship's efficient engines and soft steps of his subordinates inviting Kal'Khok to midday prayer services. Even the sounds heard during battle where quiet ones: the musical pings of enemy ships registering on their sensors and the sharp but pleasant chirps that told of their demise.
It seemed that the reality of his bridge rarely conformed to that ideal. Alarms pulsed on the screens in front of him and shrill voices of grunts relaying unpleasant messages came far more than he liked. The news he received was too often not about their continued slaughter of the blasphemous earthlings or of his family's growth in honor, but rather boring details of gravitational abnormalities and leaking plasma coolant.
This day had been noise after noise on his quiet bridge. The fact that they had been forced out of subspace on their reconnaissance mission was bad enough. That the cause was an internal error and not enemy attack Kal'Khok found even more distressing. It was one thing to be delayed by glorious battle but quite another to be delayed by some fool's misalignment of an induction conduit.
Kal'Khok silently vowed to have the one responsible boiled alive and he then set about seeing to the banal matters of his ship. Before he was too bored with reports of damage from the overheated engine, he was pleased to find the sensors back online, slightly ahead of schedule.
What really pleased Kal'Khok, however, was the ping that came next.
The Atonement's Captain had almost decided on the most pleasing and most drawn out method of obliterating the newly found prey when his subordinates interrupted with the news.
"My Captain," Kerley called as he came through the doorway, only bowing slightly in his eagerness, "we have found something!" The little creature was out of breath and nearly shriving with excitement.
Behind him, striding tall and proud as befit his race, came Pa'Garesh. He was more restrained than the science officer and managed a full bow before entering his commander's room. "Our sensors picked up the craft as soon as they came online. It is a mid-range earthling fighter..."
Kal'Khok raised a hand to silence both of them. "I know all of this already. Did you not remember that I personally oversee such things? You should both be glad you found me in a mood willing to tolerate such idiocy."
"B-b-b-but, my lord, there is more," Kerley's shrill voice began.
"Well, you have a few moments to explain before I destroy the little ship."
Pa'Garesh gripped the shaking grunt by the shoulder. "Be silence, Kerley. Sir, our more delicate scanners have intercepted a distress call from the vessel. On earthling channels."
Their commander let out a bark of laughter. "Yes, I suspect they would be begging for help upon seeing this warship as mighty as this!"
"Sir, it is not that kind of distress call. The message has been broadcast repeatedly and requests help from any other transport headed for Earth."
Now this interested him. "What was that? Earth?"
Pa'Garesh nodded before touching the screens to the left of the Captain to access the message. A translated version of the communiquÈ soon sounded through the bridge.
"This is UNSC Fireteam Charlie on Longsword designation E12278, repeat, Echo 1-2-2-7-8. Does anyone copy? This is a class 44 extraction request, maximum priority. Our jump engines gave out en route to Earth and we are stranded, repeat, stranded. Does anyone read? We have data that must not fall into Covenant hands. I don't know how long we can last out here. Does anyone..." There was a sharp crackling. "This is UNSC Fireteam Ch-"
Pa'Garesh cut off the recording and continued. "It seems as if this craft has been drifting for some time. They have minimal fuel and their life support systems are not functioning. It is my estimation that they must have been trying to reach their Earth on sub-light drive."
Kal'Khok looked over his command screen once again. Earth. The long fabled home of these heathens. If he were to be the one to find it, then his name would be revered. Revered as none such in his family's considerable history.
Maybe he would not boil the engineer at fault after all...
From inside his helmet, Cortana spoke softly to the Master Chief. "Are you sure this was a good idea?"
"We're not dead yet, are we?" He rearranged his legs in the cramped darkness.
Cortana paused. "No, not yet. But I think I should add that if we do live through the next few minutes we will be in direct violation of the Cole Protocol. We're practically handing my data stores over to them."
"No more than when we rescued Captain Keyes on the Truth and Reconciliation."
She harrumphed in his ear. "I knew you were going to bring that up. I still don't see how this could possibly work."
"Relax. We'll be fine."
"How can you tell me to relax? We're stuffed in the storage closet of an empty ship getting sucked into the gut of a Covenant battle cruiser crawling with who knows how many alien soldiers light-years from the nearest friendly unit! And that's all assuming they don't blow us out of the sky first. It doesn't get much worse that this, Chief."
Her complaints were not unexpected. "You know this Longsword doesn't have many hyperjumps left in her before she gives out, Cortana. If we're going to get anywhere, our only option is to find another means of transportation."
"Yes, but did it have to be a Covenant ship?"
"Don't worry, I've got a plan," he stated in his gravelly tone.
Cortana sighed. "I'm not sure that'll cut it this time, Chief."
Bizarre moaning shuddered through the Longsword as some nameless Covenant device warped the very gravity around them. Up and down flip-flopped. The cruiser was pulling them into its holds.
The Master Chief adjusted his grip on the dented MA5B assault rifle he held in one hand and checked the pistol at his side a third time.
"It will have to."
The next dance had begun.
|
