| abstract
| - The Sixth Age of Doubt was over, and the Seventh Age of Reclamation had begun. The new Hierarchs had taken their place. But seeds, even dead ones, cannot be sown without consequences. And doubt would forever live in the heart of SpecOps Commander Sesa ‘Refumee. He could not deny his eyes, nor his ears. The discovery of the Forerunner station should have been a momentous occasion. But for ‘Refumee, it would only seal his fate. The station was discovered above a gas giant, barely holding on to a powered cable which held it in a close atmospheric orbit. After a proper search of the place was conducted, it was discovered that much of the power was being used in a special form of stasis. This was quickly corrected, and the reason the power was diverted was made clear not half a unit later. Sesa and a team of Elite commandos were coordinating the search from a makeshift command center located in a circular room with a spiraling ramp, leading up to the cable. Gora, a veteran officer, stood awkwardly in front of Sesa. “What do you mean, they’re all gone?” Gora’s jaws were slack, and he stood a little bowed, shamed of running from a battle. “Commander, it is as I told you. When my team reached the cells, all we found were Unggoy and Kig-Yar bodies. All Sangheili were simply gone!” Sesa thought for a moment. Unfortunately this supposed “incident” had happened in an unmonitored area, so he could not simply check the holologs. Kig-Yar and Unggoy were not currently outfitted with holo-recorders, as well over 90% of their deaths were a direct result of combat with humans or industrial accidents. Sesa trusted Gora, but they were too short-handed right now. This was a covert operation, and they could not simply call for reinforcements. Gora watch Sesa expectantly, awaiting his judgment. Sesa kept his eyes on Gora’s the entire time he spoke, “If what you say is true, then you have done no harm. We are not meant to stand and fight this mission, and that is against what makes us Sangheili. But the Prophets will’s, will be carried out. I myself will go to this area and discover what has transpired there. You, Gora, will have command in my stead.” This last sentence was stated with a greater volume, so that the other commandos would know that Gora was temporarily in charge. Sesa walked out of the room and took an elevator down to the floor in which the battle had supposedly occurred. The first thing he noticed when he entered the room was the Gora was right, all Sangheili bodies were gone. A new addition to the affair was that all Kig-Yar and Unggoy bodies had been piled in a corner. Sesa studied the purple and fluorescent blue blood smears on the ground and found that they had been awkwardly dragged to the corners. Inspection of the bodies revealed that some had been killed by plasma fire, some by energy swords, but most by fists. One body in particular had curious marks, as if he had been lashed by a leather whip. Sesa discarded this possibility immediately. Leather whips were things the Jiralhanae would use, not his Sangheili warriors. There was a small ‘bing’ and a door behind him slid open. Sesa whirled around. There stood a Sangheili that should not have been standing. His neck was slack, as if all the bones there were jelly, and the head hung limp down his back. Sesa also had an answer to why the wound mark looked like a whip. Glancing at this newcomers arm, he saw that the wrist bones had been snapped, and threw the skin and muscle long tentacles had been thrust. The greatest oddity was the being’s flesh. It was puffy, as if his entire body had a crippling infection, and the skin was a sickly yellowish-green. There was a small hole in the center of the creature’s torso, and Sesa would swear from that day forward that he felt like something was looking out at him from that hole. Sesa barely had time to activate his energy sword before the thing pounced him, letting out a gurgling scream. It bowled him over on to the ground and hauled back. Before Sesa could bring his sword up the thing struck him on the side of the head with the tentacle. The hit momentarily stunned Sesa and hit shields dropped to the critical level. As his vision cleared he saw the creature hauling back again for another strike. Realization that he was dead if the creature struck him again galvanized Sesa in to action. All he had time to do was bring up the sword, and slice the arm off at the elbow. The creature squealed in surprise and clutched at the slice. Sesa noted now that the former Sangheili’s blood was now a dark green. He pushed himself up as the creature swung again with the other arm, and cut it cleanly off as well. As the creature reeled back, letting out a longer squeal this time, Sesa stood and swept his blade horizontally across the flopping neck, neatly and efficiently decapitating the abomination and tossing it back on the ground. While the squeals halted, the creature did not, and it went berserk. Robbed of sight, hearing, and touch, the creature flailed as much as it could and attempted to kick Sesa. Sesa calmly walked around and examined the hole while the creature continued to buck. Something seemed to move inside it. Sesa pulled out his plasma rifle and fired three times in to the hole. The creature finally went still. Sesa crouched and carefully reached in to the hole and pushed aside flesh and rotting skin. The remains of a strange creature filled the empty cavity. It was very small, but bulbous. It had many small tentacles. Two of these were attached to the Sangheili’s spinal column. Sesa was very familiar with the Forerunners, and a chill swept through him as he thought about what he had just killed. If he was right, nothing had killed one for about 100,000 years!
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* Sergeant Major Anderson and his team got clear of the LZ just as more EV pods began to fall from the sky. His division of ODST’s had missed the ring-world, and landed on the moon of Threshold, Basis. Now it was apparent that two other squads had missed the ring. 24 ODST’s now sat together in a makeshift base. The senior officer, Anderson himself, was bent on the idea of keeping moving. The other two were not so in to the idea, but followed orders anyway. Anderson’s logic behind this was that the Covenant was known to glass any planet with known human habitation. If they didn’t know that humans were on Basis, they could survive. The first option was to stay where they were and hope that the Covenant were too distracted by the ring world to bother finding them on scanners. The second was to move to the poles of the planets, where sensors would probably be too scrambled to get any good readings. The other two squad leaders, Staff Sergeants O’Brien and Donald, were opposed too this in case any UNSC ships tried to find them. Anderson countered that they’d be able to find them anyway to due radio communications that might get through and the fact that an entire Covenant fleet would not simply allow a UNSC ship to scan a moon when there were more interesting things to do, particularly with the ring world. So they packed up and began hoofing it towards the moon’s arbitrary north, with Anderson in the lead. As small as Basis was, it took but 12 hours of intermittent marching and jogging that got them to the North Pole. Here they found a small base that held a long cable. Upon closer examination, the ODST’s discovered that it was powered, if the slight glow of flowing energy was anything to go by. Anderson immediately ordered the best hacker in their small company to get in to the door. After fifteen minutes the man had the door open and all 24 men and women were inside. They quickly went through the facility and made sure it was clear. They secured all exterior doors and began hunting for the source of the power. It was found not half an hour after entry and immediately put to use. That’s when Anderson noticed something that, in the excitement of the entry, he had missed. As he looked at the ceiling and walls, he realized that the architecture was not Covenant make. Not only was the metal wrong, but it wasn’t quite as fluid, or even the same color. There was Covenant tech all over, however, so the ODST’s go lights, computers and even a small food and water production facility working. That’s when Anderson decided he had to see about that Cable. As he reached the zenith of the building, he found a slightly larger door than the others, which opened with the touch of a holographic control panel. Here he entered a large, circular room, the same dull grey as the others, with a spiral ramp leading up to an elevator. Taking the elevator, he came up to an even larger room, with the massive cable stretching away in to the distance above him. He climbed another ramp and in to the walkway down the center of the cable. He was not prepared for the shift in gravity that planted him firmly on the wall. Looking behind him, he stared down 60 feet to the floor. Realizing with a chill what would happen if the power cut, he climbed back down to discuss with the techies and other squad leaders what to do about this.
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* Sesa and his team watched the elevator rise. As it reached their floor, Sesa turned to Gora and the other Commandos with them. “Stick together. Any who gets separated dies!” They entered the elevator and sped downwards. Sesa waited for a glimpse of the room below them. Finally it came, view from the glass that surprised Sesa. There was nothing but the Forerunners Ring Guardians. Sentinels. These beings were not so luminous as the Oracle, but they were working Forerunner technology. Presently a door on the bottom floor binged open, and dozens of the strong warriors Sesa had fought earlier bubbles out, along with hundreds of small, infected looking things. The Commando Sangheili and Unggoy immediately opened fire. Sesa pumped bolt after bolt of plasma in to a target, but it was on him before it fell. A snap was heard and Sesa’s back was slammed in to the wall, his shields almost gone. He shook his head and looked up. And knew he was about to die. The mutated elite whipped its arm back and howled an unholy howl, preparing to cave Sesa’s head in. Of a sudden, there was a sizzling sound and a light. The form collapsed, moaning. The Sentinel folded back the bars, which resembled wings, and bobbed in mid-air, then floated off. Sesa stood and took stock of the battle while his shields recharged. His worst fears were confirmed when a few dozen of the small pods swarmed a commando Sangheili, who screamed and fell as many small knifes pierced him. Moments later his flesh boiled and a pus-like substance filled his veins. Sesa watched in horror as the Sangheili rose again, and was promptly burned down by his comrades. Shaking himself out of his reverie, Sesa picked up his rifle and looked for targets. Spotting a group of his fellow Sangheili about to be overrun, Sesa braced himself and charged. A combat form turned to face him, let out half of a roar, then collapsed under Sesa’s fire. As Sesa and his brother’s burned the rest of the group down, Sesa saw another one flanking them. Pulling a plasma grenade from his belt, he hit the charging button and flung it in to the center of the group. It attached itself to the arms of one of the forms, then detonated, halting the rush and decimating the group. With their corner secure. Sesa took the Sangheili near him and began to cleanse the rest of the room, gathering his followers to him. Before long the rest of his small force had set up a proper defense, and no more commandos were falling. Along with the help of the Sentinels, the room was soon made secure. Sesa called down the team of Unggoy in charge of transporting the bodies and examined the room. Looking to either side of what he thought had been a glass window, he noticed a pair of control panels. Walking over to them, he raised his hand to the holographic surfaces and activated them. Down the middle of the “window” a seam split, then widened. Looking behind him, Sesa realized that if they cleaned all the junk out of this room that the Sentinels had brought in, the place would make a functional hangar for a dozen Banshees or a Seraph class fighter. Sealing the window, he left the Sangheili and Unggoy commandos to hold the bottom of the elevator shaft. Taking it back up to the control room, Sesa found that the place had become a veritable hive of activity. Many of the combat forms had been taken to tables and strapped down, and the obvious signs of Unggoy blood showed that some of them had reanimated during transportation. Sesa observed several more Unggoy helping two Sangheili scientists dissect one of the forms. The scientists carefully pulled the form apart, piece-by-piece. Then they found the remains of one of the small pods. It had been burst when killed, so naught but a few scraps of flesh remained. However, its penetrator tentacles were quite whole, and the senior scientist examined them carefully. Looking up, he saw Sesa observing, and gestured to him. “If you have time, Commander, I think you need to see this.” Sesa threaded his way in between bodies until he stood across the table from the scientist. The scientist gestured at the remains. “There is no doubt about it, Commander; their DNA has a direct match to the Flood.” So, Sesa thought to himself, I was right. The Holy Scripts speak truly. He turned his back as the scientist returned to his work. Walking up to Gora, who was examining security feeds over the shoulders of Unggoy technicians, Sesa spoke in low tones. “These are the flood, brother, and this station must be cleansed.” Gora turned and nodded to Sesa. Gora had redeemed himself in the battle, and was still covered in the blood and gore of his enemies. There was, however, a slight cloudiness in his eyes. “It shall be as you wish, Commander.” As Sesa turned to go, Gora spoke to him again. “What will you tell the Fleetmaster?” Sesa hesitated. He didn’t know what he could tell them. “I will tell him the station is secure, and to send more soldiers down. We need more scientists and warriors to scour this place.” Gora nodded, and a thought occurred to Sesa. “Gora, if possible, try and contain the Flood. The Fleetmaster will likely want live specimens to examine.” “It shall be as you say, Commander.”
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* The technician’s hand slipped off his wrench and hit the cart. Swearing and nursing his rapidly numbing hand, he bent down and carefully retrieved his wrench. And head appeared on the other side of the cart. “Problem, Rich?” Flashing an archaic hand gesture, Richard went back to his work. “No problem, Hill. Hand just slipped.” “Well hurry up, my sides already fixed up. The boss wants this cart moving ASAP.” Biting his lip and twisting the wrench, Rich cursed this fool-brained idea. The good Sergeant Anderson had ordered that the technicians of the team set up a cart to carry them rapidly through the large cable. Most of the ODSTs were dead set against traveling up there, but Anderson was a master persuader. He didn’t necessarily get everyone to like his decisions, but he got them to see it was the best. The carts they were fashioning had been scrapped from Covenant metal, and the propulsion system was mainly salvaged gravity pod parts reengineered for lateral movement. And that’s the story of this damned war¸ thought Rich, whatever we find we can modify and make better, and that’s it. The two techies/engineers stood and admired their work. The large cart was rectangular in shape, and that accursed deep shade of purple. Eight gravity pods underneath would keep the cart afloat, while gravity propulsion engines on the back would move the cart forward at an incredible pace, along with magnetic accelerators found all along the cable to boost that velocity. Mounted near the front were two Banshee propulsion pods, providing steering. The techies had been working on this project ten hours a day for several weeks; there was little to do. The hackers had been building games for the ODSTs to play in their spare off time, and the sergeants kept them fit and combat ready. The hackers had been useful, opening up new areas, even a large Covenant weapons cache. The hackers said they had located some kind of drone production facility, but until the medics got a brain cloned they couldn’t make an AI powerful enough to punch through the security. So everyone did what they could, and when Anderson came to the techies with the scheme for traveling up the cable, they had jumped on the idea. They needed something to do. And now they had nothing to do again. Presently they wandered down and reported in to Anderson, who congratulated them and set out to get his team ready. The cart would easily carry up to 12 ODSTs and get up the cable in approximately six hours. The ODSTs would have to wear their armor the entire time, or the G forces would kill them. Rich was chosen to go along, and within fifteen minutes he was suited up and armed with his MA5B Assault Rifle, his service pistol, and a Covenant Needler, a nasty weapon which fired small, homing projectiles which stuck in to an object then exploded. Rich had watch a dozen of these needles sink in to fellow marines, and then detonate, literally leaving nothing but shreds. He felt it would be poetic justice if he felled Covenant with it. If there were any where they were going. The cable ride was long, and Rich slept most of the way and chatted with his fellow ODSTs the rest of the way. Sergeant Anderson stayed up front; making sure the cart was on course and communicating with HQ. Every so often one was required to stand up and walk around, which is not fun for something traveling faster over 30,000 meters per second. Just a twitch, a scrape again the side, and they’d be free floating molecules. Rich was glad when they began to slow, and was the first off the cart when it came to a complete stop. Readying his MA5B assault rifle, he checked to make sure it worked. The compass flickered for a second, and then stayed pointing toward the arbitrary north of Threshold. His ammo counter stayed at 60 without flickering. He estimated that they had traveled some 200,000 kilometers in just six hours. The rest of the ODSTs piled out, Private Watson a big groggily, having been rudely woken up by his squad mates. He slapped his helmet and stepped down out of the cart. The jeering was polite. No one wanted to tick off Watson, as there was almost no one else you’d rather have on your team in a fight. Speaking of which, there’s not much I wouldn’t do to have a Spartan or two here with us. Ah, well. The squad’s hacker, Jason, sauntered over to the door and grabbed one of many kits. “Don’t worry guys, I’ll have this open in a jiffy.”
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* Sesa fought his way tooth and claw out of the squirming, writhing flesh, and regrouped with the remains of his squad. Two had already gone down to the Flood, and one had sustained a slash mark from a tentacle across his chest. The fighting and containing had been raging on for many cycles, and Sesa could not remember how many of these beasts he had destroyed. Only the recent influx of reinforcements had allowed them to make this one final push, and trap the Flood here. The door slammed shut behind him, and locks hissed in to place. A combat form smashed itself again and again in to the hardened glass of the door, and Sesa watched as the glass began to break. Then the shield activated, and the combat form ran across the room, screaming as its flesh began to burn. As it slammed against the wall, it howled again, and then the infection form began to slide out of the burning body, and bounced off before the flames claimed it. Turning from the horrid scene, Sesa turned to a Sangheili, who reported. “Commander, the infection has been contained, but Gora would seek your audience.” Frowning, Sesa went looking for Gora, and found him in the control room. In it was a flurry of activity. Gora turned to him, jaws slack and eyes glazed over. “Commander, the worst has come to pass. Halo is gone." It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room. Every Unggoy and Kig-Yar went slack, muscles loose, staring blankly in to the sky, jaws slack. The Sangheili just stared, disbelievingly. 'Refumee was the first to recover, and ordered an immediate and total lock down except for external com. The response was immediate as most of the energy was cut. The com officer worked his jaw for a moment, then spun in his seat. "Excellency, we just received a communique from the Hierarchs, and another message, coded." Sesa turned to him. "Play the Hierarch broadcast first, and broadcast it throughout the station." The Prophet of Truth's face appeared, with his body garbed in the most formal clothing imaginable in the Covenant. "Warriors of the Covenant. Today is a grave day, for something has been taken from us most dear. "In their misguided attempt to halt the Great Journey, a human was able to destroy the Sacred Ring! "This Demon carries with him now the sorrow of a thousand generations. His deeds will be entered in to the Hall of Infamy, as our mortal enemy! "But I say this to you, most noble warriors: Weep, but do not despair. Mourn, but do not lose hope. The Great Journey is our divine absolution, and nothing, not even the Demon can stop it! "We will find the other rings! We will have our reward for a hundred millenniums of suffering! We will walk the Path!" While none throughout the station dared cheer, they felt a renewed hope, that everything would be alright. Well, except for 12 individuals viewing the broadcasts, visors mirroring the image of the Prophet. Sorry, 13 individuals.
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* Sergeant Anderson and his team moved quickly and silently down the hall. The broadcast had left them rattled, in more than one way. They headed down, 3D imaging laying out a precise map of the station. The team had split in two, with the six-man teams scanning down two different directions, but attempting to stay close and communicating often. "Alpha, this is Bravo, unknown contacts." Anderson clicked his teeth twice to activate the mic. "Hostiles?" "Negative for now sir, they're locked up and don't notice us- fuck!" A slam was heard, then the clicking of multiple weapons being raised in to position. Anderson's blood ran cold. "Bravo, report!" "One of them threw itself against the glass! Its breaking and the rest have noticed!" "Fall back, repeat, fall back to the last checkpoint! We're on our way!" Anderson clicked the mic off as the sounds of glass shattering broke out, then he and his squad thundered back the way they came.
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* PFC Rich sprinted at the wall, firing the needler over his shoulder, proclaiming: "Yeah, I'm pretty sure there asses are hostile!" Corporal Hafsa just shouted "Shut up and keep going! We're almost there!" They tumbled through the hatch and closed it just as the creatures reached it. They heard banging and hurriedly prepared defenses. They set up cover and good firing positions just as Anderson and his squad rushed in to join the melee. Not two minutes later the banging reached a crescendo, then the wall erupted in to smoke and strange and twisted creatures bubbled forth. The ODSTs did not hesitate. They opened fire at the first limb that showed itself, then kept up an incredible pattern of fire on the door, shredding most of the aliens in seconds. One small, bubbly creature jumped at Rich. He swiped at it, and became unbalanced when his fist swung easily through it, and nearly disrupted the fire from three others. He spun just in time to see an Elite swinging at him. Not an elite, but a hideous version of the already ugly bastards. Up came his pistol, and the rounds cored the Elite right through the head. He slowed and flinched, which saved the PFC's life but did not stop. Rich was dumbfounded for but a split second, then he reacted as the creature prepared to swing again, this time aiming for the chest. The hole in the back of the Elite was a foot in diameter, and this time, it dropped. Rich caught a glimpse of something in the chest that shouldn't have been there, and had an epiphany. He activated his mic: "Aim for the chest area, upper thorax. That's the weak spot." The ODSTs, about to go under from sheer numbers, shifted their fire from low and high, to middle. The effect was immediate, and the aliens were destroyed within another minute. Anderson congratulated Rich, who was only to happy to show the Sergeant what gave him the idea. Anderson decided a swift retreat was in order. Ten minutes later, he was cursing under his breath as they passed through yet another unknown chamber. He turned to Hafsa and queried him. "Are you positive this is the way we came?" Hafsa replied, flustered, "Yessir, the map we made claims we're ten feet from the exit to our transport." Then a giggling was heard. "I am a genius, heeheehee!" Anderson spun on his heel, raising his rifle. Before the ODSTs floated a silvery orb, with a central blue eye. It was the source of the giggle. "Greetings Reclaimers. We have much work to do." Another, deeper voice spoke from behind them. It was obviously shocked. "Reclaimers? What madness is this!?" Anderson spun on his heel again, and this time fired. The voice belonged to an Elite wearing black armor, who quickly recovered his composure and ducked behind cover. The ODSTs moved towards her, but the orb floated in front of them. "Please! I would ask you to desist your current course of action! This alien will be a friend, Reclaimers!" Anderson lowered his weapon, stunned in to complicity. Collaborate with a xenophobic alien race! Unthinkable! 'Refumee was just as shocked. The humans are the descendants of gods! Impossible! All the creatures stared up at the orb. For the Elite, it represented a profound religious experience. For the humans, the site of the alien artifact awoke something deep within their minds. The "Oracle" bobbed, as if relieved that violence had been averted, and the Elite slipped out from behind the column. "Thank you, now please, listen carefully...
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* 'Refumee stormed back in to the control center. Gora turned to him. "Excellency, another communique from High Charity has arrived, and we have been instructed to..." "Open a channel! Get me the everyone! Full holo!", 'Refumee roared. Gora blinked and his jaws went slack. "Ignore the Hierarchs? This is-" In the background the com officer stated that their range wasn't too far. "I know the consequences, and damn them! Open the channel!" The communication officer hit the switch, and a holo of 'Refumee was broadcast throughout the station. He briefly composed himself, then spoke: "Warriors, I come sharing with you grave news. "Several units ago I received a communication from an unknown source. I investigated that source deep within this facility. "There I found one of the Oracles." A collective gasp rippled throughout the audience. 'Refumee stood straighter. "But that is not all I met there. There I encountered several humans." Another gasp, this time of anger. 'Refumee made the silencing motion. "However, I learned from this Oracle, many secrets that I would have you know. "I warn you now, you will not be happy to hear what I have to say. "The Halo rings were not created to send the Forerunners on a Great Journey!" Many troops roared at this. This was heresy! The only possible reason they didn't tear 'Refumee limb from limb was their years of served under him, had known him as a courageous and trustworthy leader. All the Prophets had done was speak the word of the Gods. And when it came down to it, the former was what counted. 'Refumee waited for peace again, then continued. "I know what I say to you goes against everything you've been taught, but heed my words! "The humans are not our enemies. They are the descendants of the Forerunners, attacked by the Prophets who thought we were the Reclaimers! "We have been blinded for thousands of years, led to believe a web of lies! "We have been betrayed by those we held dear! "Our Prophets are false! "Open your eyes my brothers! They would use the faith of our forefathers to bring ruin to us all! "The Great Journey is a lie! "The Covenant is a lie!" Everyone was motionless, breath held. This was the height of heresy, even one of the Hierarchs himself would suffer long for this! 'Refumee just looked deflated, as if everything in his life had been destroyed. And truly, it probably was. He pointed to a floating orb above the control station. "If you want to know yourselves, ask him. I've said all I have to say."
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* Several hours later, the ODSTs arrived back at the base. None had spoken, just done their business on the way back. When they reached the main room, they were surrounded, asked question on what was at the other end of the cable. Anderson shouted for silence, and when it came, he talked, for a long time.
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* Several days later, 'Refumee was finally getting used to the new suit that the Sentinels had constructed for him and the Unggoy. The Kig-Yar had fought back, being too devoted to the Prophets, and hateful of the "gas-suckers". The new suit had anti-gravity pods that allowed him to float indefinitely, and his subordinate Sangheili had weaker versions of the same suits. The Unggoy's cumbersome methane tanks had been replaced with atmosphere conversion modules, which prevented an explosion that could wipe out an entire squad. Gora approached 'Refumee. He had had a tough time, as he hailed from the Zatan keep, who were followed religion as their entire lifestyle. For one of their warriors to refute that religion was just as if not more amazing than this entire heresy. "Sir, three Covenant Phantoms are on an approach vector, they'll be there in a few minutes." 'Refumee clicked his mandibles. "Prepare to release the Flood." Right on mark, the com officer turned to 'Refumee. "Sir, low-level sweep squads are reporting that some Flood have escaped their cages. Sentinels are on their way to cleanse the area." 'Refumee ordered all squads recalled to defense platforms and the central command area. "Find out where those Phantoms will land, and stop them in the first entrance they come across." "Yes, sir."
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* Thel 'Vadamee dropped from the Phantom and flicked his energy sword on. The sizzling blue blade was fully powered and ready to fulfill the bidding of the Hierarchs. "Warriors, prepare for combat!" Thel strode down the ramp after a few Special Operation Sangheili. They regarded him with wary eyes, as several more approached. Rtas 'Vadumee's voice crackled in his earpiece: "We are the arm of the Prophets, Arbiter, and you are the blade. Be silent and swift, and we shall quell this heresy without incident. The storm has masked our approach and it should have their local Battlenet in disarray. We have the element of surprise...For now." They entered the airlock, and a hissing sound filled the chamber as it pressurized. "Engage active camouflage! Reveal yourselves only after the Arbiter has joined battle with the enemy!"
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* 'Refumee observed the team traveling through the halls, and checked on the spread of the Flood. Many of his teams had been slaughtered and converted already, but he had many more. He prepared to spring a carefully set trap, and then went to talk to the creatures that wanted to kill him.
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* The Arbiter and Rtas 'Vadumee were last in through the door, with the Arbiter covering their rear. 'Vadumee paused and sniffed the air. The Arbiter examined him. "What is it?" "That stench, I've smelled it before." The door binged shut and locked behind them. The next room was covered in a familiar paste, and bodies were littered with it. One of the Unggoy felt scared enough to comment: "Me have bad feeling about this." Another berated him, saying, "You always have bad feeling! You had bad feeling about morning food nipple!" An officer shut them up, threatening to bind their jaws shut, when a high pitched humming was heard, and a light flickered and the Heretic Leader appeared before them. The first Unggoy panicked, "See! Heretic!" And began to shoot the hologram. It flickered, and almost died, before 'Vadumee called him off. The hologram turned to the Arbiter. "I wondered who the Prophets would send to silence me. An Arbiter... I'm flattered." 'Vadumee decided he had to say something. "He's using a holodrone. He must be close. Come out, so we may kill you." The Heretic laughed. "Get in line." 'Refumee returned to the command center. Gora stood there, armed to the teeth. The rest of his forces were spread out, most were dead already. Gora bowed his head. Sesa felt a wave of despair. "Old friend..." "Do not say it. This must be done. You are the hope of our species now. There are things that must be done that only you can do." Sesa nodded. "Goodbye. I shall join you soon." "Goodbye, Sesa 'Refumee." The door exploded inwards, Gora screamed and threw himself in to the fray, and Sesa ran from battle for the first time in his life. He made it in to the safe room and turned back in time to see Gora cut in half by the Arbiter. He stared at the former fleetmaster and Kaidon of the 'Vadam keep. "This will save me from the storm, but you will be consumed." The door slammed shut as the Arbiter slammed his fist in to the barrier.
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* 'Refumee ran. He had to get to the Seraph fighter bay and get to the cloaked corvette in orbit. He paused as the station rocked, then stumbled against the wall as it rocket violently. Just as he regained his balance he slammed against the wall again and lay there dazed as the bottom of his stomach dropped out. "No..." There was only one explanation for this. The fool of an Arbiter had cut the cables holding the station, which was now in free fall. He made it to the Banshee and hopped in. He fired up the engines and took off as plasma bolts streaked by him. He circled around and forced the Arbiter back in to cover in order to buy a few seconds. He made it safely to the hangar and hopped on the Seraph, preparing to open the hatch. "Turn, Heretic." 'Refumee sighed and turned around. There stood a "god-chosen" warrior. "Arbiter. I would rather die by your hands than let the Prophets lead me to slaughter." "Who had taught you these lies?" A humming sound floated downwards. The Arbiter looked up, intrigued and shocked. "The Oracle!" The Oracle hummed and introduced himself cheerfully. "Hello! I am 343 Guilty Spark. I am the Monitor of Installation 04." 'Refumee stood straight. "Ask the Oracle about Halo. How they would sacrifice us all for nothing!" The Arbiter was obviously distracted, intrigued by the Oracle, which was commenting: "More questions? Splendid! I would be happy to assist you." 'Refumee whipped out his plasma rifles and peppered the Arbiter, forcing him to retreat, and the Oracle to float towards the ceiling, complaining. 'Refumee floated to and perched himself on the Seraph fighter. "The Sangheili are blind, Arbiter... but I... will make them see." He released two holodrones, which floated to the ground and created two impressions of himself. They couldn't hurt the Arbiter, but they may give 'Refumee the edge he needed. All three 'Refumees bracketed the Arbiter with withering fire, with the real one concentrating on the warrior. The Oracle blustered happily, and'Refumee kept up a rhetoric: "This mining facility predates Installation Alpha by several hundred years. It was retrofitted to research possible offensive and defensive measures against the Flood. Indeed, I designed and oversaw the construction of this facility's various outbreak management systems." "How did the Prophets buy your loyalty Arbiter? With a new command, a new fleet, or was it the promise... their "Great Journey"?" The Arbiter tossed a plasma grenade on to one of the holograms, which detected the grenade and sent a signal of being organic. The grenade stuck and exploded, destroying the hologram. "The cable on top of this mine was designed as a fail safe in case an outbreak took place. I am glad someone had the foresight to cut it! " "And now where are these "Gods" the Prophets would have us worship! Transcended?! ... Hardly. Come, Arbiter, let me show you where they went." However, his shields were down, and the Arbiter retreated in to cover. The second hologram circled and fired. So did the Arbiter, and the hologram flared and died. Now the Arbiter charged 'Refumee, and both activated their energy swords and became locked in a fierce battle that took them around the entire room, even on and under the Seraph fighter. "Fortunately, all the Flood on this installation will perish once this facility enters the planet's nitrogen core" "And now where are these "Gods" the Prophets would have us worship! Transcended?! ... Hardly. Come, Arbiter, let me show you where they went." 'Refumee swung angrily, and overextended. The Arbiter grabbed his wrist and pulled him close, smashing 'Refumees face in with his harder helmet. As the Heretic was temporarily stunned, the Arbiter swung the killing blow. As the pure energy point flew toward his heart, 'Refumee felt a warmth. This was not perfect, but he would be at peace now, he had done his duty. The blade flashed through his flesh. For and instant, there was blinding pain, then nothing.
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* (Three days later) Anderson stood on the bridge of the Covenant Corvette. The escape from Threshold had left their slipspace engine damaged, and they'd been forced to exit or risk floating through inter-dimensional space forever. Corporal Hafsa strode up to him. "This is the closest planet sir, Rich checked twice." Anderson examined the planet. Green and blue, with a good atmosphere. And the corvette came with everything they'd need to live comfortably there. Hafsa did not walk away. Anderson turned to him. "What is it, corporal?" The enlisted man shuffled, an odd thing for an ODST. "Do you think the plan worked sir? Do you think the Elite got his message through." "No." Hafsa looked up in to Anderson's eyes. Anderson looked back at the chart, the planet's designation was simple on a UNSC chart: Zeta-9. "I don't think he got his message through, because the warrior he fought was a fanatic, and fanatics rarely turn. However, I do believe that Sesa 'Refumee accomplished something. He laid the foundation for something great. He managed to sew his seeds of doubt." Bold text
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