- Wolverfrog
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- Fabled Legendary Member
"Location unknown Captain. Can I help you with anything else?"
"Unseal pod hatches AI, and prepare yourself for a hard transfer. You're coming with me," Graham ordered.
"Certainly sir. Opening hatches in 3-2-1--" The large door near the rear of the escape pod swung open with a hydraulic hiss, shortly before a crystalline chip ejected from the control panel, which contained the AI. Cursing once again at his bad luck, Graham pulled the chip out from the slot and inserted it into the slightly beaten wrist computer he wore.
"Transfer complete!" the annoyingly chirpy tones of the AI sung through the speakers of the wrist computer. Ignoring it, the beaten captain began to gather up the supplies he would need; weapons, food, water, camping supplies, and a whole other array of useful things. Once the MA5C was securely in his hand and fully loaded, he felt a lot better. With a grunt, Graham stepped out of the pod, into the horrific world around him.
Some years ago, Graham had needed a small operation after he'd developed bowel cancer. With a morbid curiosity, Graham had opted to see the procedure on video after it had been completed. His insides had looked disgusting and completely alien.
That's what the world around him looked like now, albeit it was even more putrid, and everything seemed dead.
"Holy shit," he breathed, staring in amazement at the world around him.
"AI, which way is north?" Graham questioned the program on his wrist, who took a few seconds to respond.
"I shall place a waypoint over your neural interface showing a compass," the AI complied, and in a few seconds Graham saw a digital compass appear in the top left of his vision. Neural interface freaked him out at times, the image was being artificially fed into his retinae which then sent signals to his brain, overlaying the image over the real world. Or something like that.
"Thanks."
Now at least Graham sort of knew his bearings. He needed to find a way to contact the fleet before it was too late for him. There had to be a settlement around here somewhere. Right now though, it was dark and late, and Graham didn't care for the idea of walking blind through enemy territory.
After around half an hour of effort and fumbling around, he'd set up a camp, in the loosest sense of the word. At the very least, the tent would protect him from the howling wind and bitter cold. Realising how tired he was, Graham climbed inside his shelter, and immediately felt safe. He knew he wasn't, but the illusion of safety was there, and that would have to do.
Ten minutes later, he fell into a fitful sleep plagued with nightmares and other horrors of the mind.
* * * * * * * * *
"Spark?" Mendez wondered with a tinge of fear, staring at the buckling blast doors. Parasitic tendrils were already snaking their way into the room through the gaps.
"Not yet Reclaimer," the Monitor replied in a level tone, as if he'd just been interrupted whilst reading the morning paper. The Forerunner AI was currently surrounded by several power cables somehow suspended around its metal chassis. Electrical sparks crackled in an encompassing nexus.
"This had better work," the CPO replied, settling into a sturdy position in the centre of a group of crates. It was hardly brilliant protection, but then it was better than nothing.
"Have faith, Reclaimer," Spark chimed, sounding under duress.
"Faith? After what I saw in the war? There is no God, Spark. And if there is, he sure as hell doesn't give a damn about us," Mendez replied with a grim laugh.
"You mean your war with the Meddlers? Correct me if I'm wrong Reclaimer, but am I not right when I say you won that war?"
"Yeah, eventually, if you can call it a win. Scores of planets glassed, and the human population whittled down to a mere 200 million."
"But still...you won. So as I said Reclaimer, have faith," Spark answered self dismissively, as if he found the notion that there was no divine deity guiding their paths ridiculous. It had probably been programmed into him.
"The only thing I believe in is the ability of my gun to keep on firing. Believe you me Spark, I was once a very devout Christian. But over the years, I came to realise the truth -- God either doesn't exist or doesn't care. Besides, the arrival of the Covenant and Flood contradict dozens of things in the Bible to the point where its preposterous. You're welcome to fight alongside me Spark; God ain't."
"Faith doesn't have to be about gods, Reclaimer. Remember that."
Mendez was starting to feel uncomfortable about the topic, and so changed it.
"You done yet? This situation ain't getting any prettier Spark."
"Be patient Reclaimer, these things take--"
The Monitor of Installation 04 was suddenly cut off mid sentence as the huge, heavy blast doors finally caved in, and Flood poured in the room. Mendez immediately opened fire, dropping several of the slower, more clumsy ones.
"Time?" Mendez finished Spark's sentence for him, voice straining to sound over the cries of the feral Flood. "That's something we don't have Spark. Hurry!"
One of the Flood forms broke past his barrier, and lunged at Mendez's unprotected back. The CPO turned around, reaching for his knife frantically. The Flood form knocked it away, wrapping a molted, powerful tendril around Mendez's lightly armoured neck.
Suddenly, the pressure was released as a highly concentrated laser smashed into the Flood form's torso, practically disintegrating it.
"Well, that will set us back a little bit. Try not to force me to waste power Reclaimer, it doesn't help in the long run," Spark rebuked Mendez, red lens reverting back to its previous colour.
"Understood," Mendez grunted, firing another volley of rounds into the advancing Flood. They were moving slowly, but surely. Their assault reminded Mendez of history lessons discussing how Napoleons French overwhelmed the British forces by marching slowly forward. They took terrible losses, but eventually would fall upon the helpless British soldiers with swords.
The CPO stumbled backwards as several infection forms lunged at him, landing on his chest and pushing him back with their surprisingly dense weight. Panicking as they reared their barbed tentacles before his face, Mendez rolled across the ground, practically squashing them against his armour. The pus released looked and smelt disgusting.
He fell back to Spark, quickly ending the 'life' of one Flood form who was attempting to prevent the Monitor from recharging its power.
And that was when one got the better of him.
Mendez felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder, looked down and saw a spiked tendril poking through it, his blood splattered alongside it. Immediately he began to shake and dropped to the floor, feeling hot and then suddenly cold.
He was aware of the Flood gathering around him, as if they were gloating. Spark was dimly shouting, but Mendez couldn't hear him over the ringing in his ears. The world began to grow dark, tinged with a golden light. He felt himself drifting into unconsciousness, and knew it would be a slumber from which he would never awaken.
Then, gunfire sounded, accompanied by Flood screams and cries of frustration. The unexpected sounds brought Mendez back from the brink, and the murky well of black began to clear. He looked up, and saw a Spartan battling a Flood Tank form.
Was he hallucinating? He had to be, no-one else was on the ship.
"Sir! Are you okay?" a male voice battered at the ringing noise in his ears. Now that seemed real. So did the hands which lifted him up and supported his weight. He looked around, and saw another Spartan, systematically plunging a knife into the corpses of Flood forms in a manner that was all too familiar. His head cleared further, and he realised that they were Spartan IIIs.
"Tom? Lucy?" he wondered, although all he heard was a faint groan followed by a pitiful sounding cough. He almost dropped to his knees, but was supported again by Tom.
"Yes sir, it's us. Don't worry, you're safe. Lucy, get a med kit out. Didact, come over here and apply some pressure to his wound."
Mendez looked at his surroundings; alien steels, greys, and gigantic holograms. This was definitely not the Galapagos.
"I apologise creator, but this was the first place I thought of and I was under a lot of pressure. Had I hesitated a second later, we would have been overwhelmed." Mendez faintly recognised the voice as belonging to Guilty Spark.
"You did the right thing, 343."
"Where--" Mendez began to croak out, before breaking off again. Tom, helmet removed, looked down at him with an intent, concerned look on his face.
"Just relax sir, you're at Halo. Spark teleported you out of that ship; accidentally brought a few of the Flood with him too. They've been dealt with. Now, you're going to pass out momentarily, but you'll be up and walking again in no time. Just don't fight the sedative, it can be dangerous."
All this was too much for Mendez's pain drunken head, but he accepted the words anyway. He felt the black tinge return, but this time, he embraced it.