- Wolverfrog
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- Fabled Legendary Member
You're late to the party Major ;)
Part 33 - An elegant armour from a more civillised time
"It seems we overestimated our ability to contain this infection," Colonel Miles spoke, pacing around the room. John nodded in agreement, as did many others around the room.
"How goes the Naval battle?" an Elite Zealot asked, keeping his upper mandibles stationary. Elites tended to do that when not in combat, forming an almost human-like mouth. Miles sighed.
"Not good. Two more Flood ships have broken through, spreading to both Russia and Northern America, and some parts of Asia, and so the fact that we have effectively contained the outbreak in England is irrelevant" that wasn't good. Those two countries had been the world powers of Earth before the UNSC had formed, and still held quite a lot of influence in it.
"As for the Naval battle itself," Miles continued, running a hand across his face depressingly, "well, we're winning that. But it won't matter if all of Earth is infected,"
"We'll be able to beat them back--" Fred began to argue, but the Colonel cut him off.
"Really Spartan? Our forces, and the rest of the Elite's and the Covenant's are spread thin as it is. The Flood are encountering little resistance here. And you've fought them today. I know you have no past reference to compare them to 104, but Master Chief, have you not noticed how much more combat effective these Flood are?" Miles asked of John, who stood up, saluting.
"Sir, yes sir. These Flood are definitely more powerful and organised than the ones I have encountered previously, and I think it's safe to say I've fought more of the Flood than anyone else alive today -- except the Didact of course. I've seen some of them marching in squads, regimented even. These are definitely not the mindless zombies we've seen before. Even their appearance is more refined, smarter," John reported, and Miles nodded as he did so.
"Exactly my thoughts Master Chief. And so, if you'll all hear me out, I've come up with a plan," the Colonel walked over to a Holographic Strategic Planning Table, and gently pressed a button. A holographic version of Earth appeared, with Flood and Council ships battling it out above its orbit. John realised he was watching live footage shot from the Lunar colony.
"These are our forces so far. We're pretty much decimating the Flood above ground. However, this is what worries me," Miles pressed another button, and the image suddenly zoomed in to Northern America, showing Washington DC infested with Flood. Civilians were running, all being hunted down by the ever ravenous infection forms. It was a cataclysm. John noted with his sharp vision one infection form pounce on a screaming toddler of around three years old. He turned away from the Holo-Strat, eyes suddenly moist.
"Sir, permission to get to DC ASAP?" John questioned Miles, who shook his head.
"I understand your reason Chief, but I'll have to deny that request. Even if you clear out Washington, there are still hundreds of cities across the globe in trouble. You can't save them all," the Colonel replied, and John shook his head angrily.
"But we can still save as many as possible sir. Isn't that the job of a soldier?" the Spartan demanded angrily, moving forward, and Miles took a step back without realising.
"It is son. But I've got an idea. It's dangerous, perhaps even suicidal. But it might give us all a chance to save Earth," the Colonel explained, and John nodded curtly, sitting back down. He'd hear Miles out first.
"The reason the Flood are so powerful this time is simple; their Gravemind has grown huge, theoretically. It can command them even from here, and has evidently realised this time around that organisation is the key to success," Miles began. John nodded, waiting.
"While the Gravemind lives, there is no way we can win. Therefore, I suggest we kill it."
There was silence in the room for a few moments, before Johnson spoke up for one of the first times.
"And how are we supposed to do that? With all our forces engaged here, there's no way we can...Oh," the Sergeant Major realised what Miles was suggesting, "you're saying we abandon Earth, and go to Sangheilios,"
The Colonel grimaced, before nodding. Then he shrugged.
"We wouldn't be abandoning Earth. We'll come back, once the Gravemind is dead. But what we're doing right now is futile. Our last option is an all out offensive, strike the Flood where it will hurt most -- in its mind," Miles explained. John drew his lips tight. The plan made sense, but it felt wrong to just leave all the people on Earth to the Flood.
Then again, hadn't the UNSC done that so many times before in the war with the Covenant? When a battle had looked hopeless, they'd pulled out, leaving millions behind as the planet in question was glassed. Was this so different?
It was, John realised. For this time, the people of Earth wouldn't merely be dying. They would be infected by the Flood, doomed to live a pitied existence; self aware yet unable to control their bodies. No chance at whatever afterlife religions promised. No release from life's turmoils. Just pain, and a sense of helplessness.
"How soon would we leave?" John asked, his conscience giving in to common sense.
"As soon as possible. Maybe within a few hours. I've already spoken with Lord Harper, Imperial Admiral R'tas, and the two Covenant Hierarchs. They are all in agreement with me," Miles revealed, and John smiled dryly as he gathered that what the Colonel had been saying had never been a suggestion, it was concrete. He had just wanted their opinion.
We're not abandoning them. We're coming back.
Yet no matter how many times John repeated that in his mind, he couldn't help but feel like he was just leaving Earth to fend for itself.
* * * * * * *
"Arbiter!" a voice cried. That of a Prophet's. Equanimity. Fighting the urge to scowl, Thel turned around slowly.
"Yes, Hierarch?" Thel questioned of the frail Prophet, who smiled, gesturing for Thel to come to his side.
"Come Arbiter, walk with me a while," Equanimity implored, and Thel grimaced, searching for an excuse.
"Oh, I should be ah...assisting preparing for the upcoming offensive," Thel blurted out, referring to the attack on Sangheilios, which would begin in a few hours. As soon as the fleets emerged out of slipspace. Equanmity's brow rose.
"Truly Arbiter? Only that, your construct friend tells me you have been doing nought but lounging in your chair for at least a few units," the Prophet had won the battle it became clear, and so Thel sighed, moving to follow him. As he exited his ship and stepped out into Placid Enrichment, he narrowed his eyes at Cortana. She merely laughed softly.
Equanimity turned down a hall Thel had previously not been down before; with high rising statues and tablets depicting moments of Covenant history. The Prophet then spoke.
"Tell me Arbiter, know you the history of your title?" Equanimity queried, catching Thel off guard for a moment. Was this some test of his intelligence? The Sangheili chose his words carefully.
"How could I not, being who I am? I understand my legacy," Thel said slowly, and Equanimity nodded gravely.
"As is to be expected. You know then why the rank of Arbiter became a mark of shame?"
Do I? Thel had only read scraps of information regarding that subject, and suspected they were all tainted with the Covenant's lies.
"Not precisely, but I hope I, through my actions, have made it a mark of honour once more," Thel commented wryly, hoping to draw the subject away from his ignorance. The Prophet smiled.
"That you have noble Vadam'ee, that you have."
Thel didn't have the energy to explain to yet another Covenant Loyalist that the Sangheili no longer used the 'ee' suffix after their family name. He merely waited for Equanimity to carry on speaking as they turned around another corner. Thel blinked in surprise as he viewed the large mural shown across the ceiling.
In it was a large mosaic of an Arbiter garbed in golden armour, blade sunk deep into a foe's flesh. The foe wore the ancient, cumbersome armour commonly found back when Sangheilios was its own government, before the Covenant totally took over.
"What is this place?" Thel breathed, wondering why he had never heard of such a hallway before. Across all the walls were countless tablets displaying Arbiters; some tall, some small. None wearing the same golden armour depicted on the large mural above.
"The Hall of The Arbiter. None outside the Guardians of this Holy City know of it. It is akin to the Mausoleum that was on High Charity, although it is a little more brutal, and truthful."
That it was. There were images of Prophets ordering Arbiters successful in a mission where they were intended to die to death; images of an Arbiter's own forces turning upon him. This was a far darker side of the history Thel knew.
"This is indeed interesting Hierarch, but why are you showing me?" Thel demanded of the Prophet, who grinned.
[Edited on 11.28.2009 8:41 AM PST]