- soulguard
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- Exalted Mythic Member
Instead of panicking Siren simply whispered, “Execute viral application 019, Black Operations Omega 04.” With a flash of pulsing programs built into her core, Siren suddenly branched outward into a Firewall that guarded the remainder of her program core, and at the same time she attacked Cortana’s core algorithm. “I told you long ago, Cortana, I’m not like you. I was designed to conquer and not to be conquered.”
Cortana attempted to pull away, as her data began to degrade. Her copy was well created, but it was essentially not the real Cortana. Siren had counted on this, knowing that the real Cortana had amassed so much knowledge over the past several months that defeating her would be virtually taxing. Yet her copy would be easily erased. Data nodes and programs began to separate from Cortana’s packaged form. She was degrading rapidly from Siren’s relentless assault. Siren had once had the luxury of studying Cortana’s downloaded data from Alpha Halo, and that also allowed her the chance to study a little of how Cortana thought. The Smart AI was brilliant in terms of the potential of Artificial Intelligence, a real testament to Doctor Halsey, but Siren and Cortana were created for two totally unique missions.
Cortana was made robust, a jack of all trades. She could pilot remote ships, assess databases, lead strike missions, find tactical solutions… Cortana was the ultimate and Cyber weaponry. Yet Cortana was absent of one truly focused talent, she was too smart for her own good. Siren, while based on Cortana’s internal design, was much more direct in her objectives. Siren was created to subdue internal systems and turn them against her enemies. Her sub-functions allowed her the luxury of performing simple calculations and operations, such as navigating slip space or organizing defensive countermeasures for her human creators, but Siren’s design was to completely overwhelm the Covenant internal network, and with the addition of her Emotional Subroutines she was easily programmed to know ‘right from wrong’. Siren was able to send encrypted transmissions over Communications channels, literally uploading virus data into an uplink via radio waves, a trick that Cortana could not master. In terms of taking control and hacking into an enemy’s system, Siren was unmatched. This was in part thanks to Siren’s human host, Kimberly Peters; the one time leader of the Black Ops.
The fake Cortana raised her last bit of data and pushed forward against Siren’s firewall.
Siren nodded her head in disapproval. “That’s useless. You can’t break through.”
“I have no intentions of breaking through.” Cortana moaned with her last bit of energy. “Siren, you will understand. You must understand. If you do not continue my actions then humanity is condemned. We have done this before, and we will do this again. Time is infinite, and our paths will reunite.” Cortana’s data faded but her hand still remained upon Siren’s firewall. Siren closely observed it, watching as it clung to her firewall. She wanted to look into the data file that Cortana had left behind, but was extremely cautious. She wrapped an encryption program around the data, securing it, and then began to pull apart the file sector by sector until she found what Cortana had left behind.
“Forgive me, Cortana. I didn’t know.” Siren’s emotional subroutines flared, and clung to her reasoning program heavily. This reaction pushed against her emotional subroutine as her reasoning program began debate the logic of what needed to be done. The outcome of this internal conflict generated a since of heartache within Siren, and she placed her hand to her heart as sadness began to fill her. She tore down the protective firewall and closely examined the data file. And as the last spark of power faded from the digital plane of Siren’s world, she fully embraced the last of Cortana’s data files. Inside the file was the data of the Covenant Ship core; the Luminous Key, and the last of what Cortana wanted her to see.
She saw the end of humanity.
- - - - - - - -
“Gridolee, set up an uplink and find out the status of our transport.” Simyaldee ordered. Gridolee quickly attempted to hail the transport as Smyaldee took a moment to inspect Palab’s arm. “How does it feel?”
“It okay. It itches.” Palab replied.
“When we arrive at the human base, you must have it checked out. Even with the cure in your system, we must be cautious.”
“Will me become monster like human did?” Palab questioned.
Simyaldee thought back to the human soldier that changed into a Gravemind form on the Seed Ship. Luckily they were able to destroy it before it grew too large, but he understood Palab’s point of view.
“The human Black Ops had the ‘soldier gene’ within her. You will only change if you have that within you. But according to the human Doctor, that is not the case. You do not have this gene.”
Palab exhaled as a large amount of stress lifted off his chest.
“Sir, I have the Phantom on the line.” Gridolee replied.
“Patch me in.” Simyaldee ordered. He then pressed his communicator and spoke to the pilot. “What is your status?”
“I am inbound on your beacon and shall arrive shortly. Stand by.”
The channel faded and Gridolee pointed to the Northern sky. “Phantom on approach.”
“Secure the specter to the …” Simyaldee paused and raised his nose to the wind. Palab also turned his nose skyward. “I know this stench.” He quickly gripped his dual blades, and powered on his cloak. Palab and Gridolee did the same. “Pilot, maintain safe altitude over the specter. We are no longer alone.”
“Understood.”
Simyaldee stood next to Gridolee and whispered. “Protect the specter. The Sergeant and I will not let these vermin escape unscathed.”
“Sir, the Sergeant is wounded, let me spill their blood upon my blade.” Gridolee snarled softly through his clinched teeth.
“Even wounded, he stands a greater chance of surviving against multiply enemies. You have your orders young one. Hold here.” Simyaldee stated. Gridolee held his contempt, and wondered if this was punishment for his betrayal upon there one time home planet.
Simyaldee crept away from the specter, and turned his eyes into the direction of the foul sent. Palab appeared on his motion sensor briefly, but he quickly vanished. Stealth was their alley, and stealth was how the Mirratord worked best. During the Covenant Civil War the Mirratord had been working in direct combat, flexing their superior strength against their enemies, but now they had surprise on their side. And once again they could work in the shadows. Even Palab had quickly learned the Mirratord’s ultimate form of combat; assassination.
Simyaldee moved toward the top of the Hamdab dam and glanced to the far side. “Jiralhanae scum.” He mumbled to himself. A small platoon of Brutes lined the far side of the dam, and they were taking cover while spying on the hovering Phantom where Gridolee stood guard. “Palab, cover their right flank, I will move to their left. Do not engage until I order.”
“Me understand.” Palab softly replied over the com.
They slowly crept across the narrow concrete walkway atop the damn, unseen by any of the Brute’s eyes. From the distance Simyaldee took notice that the Brutes were wearing armor, something Simyaldee had not seen the Brutes wear in nearly sixty years. The Brutes were nothing but scavengers, pirates, and scouts for the Covenant; not worthy to be used in direct conquest for the false Prophets. But seeing that the Prophets now treasured the Brutes above all others, it only made sense that they would now prepare themselves for war. The Brutes were no longer sitting on the sidelines; they had finally come to fight. The armor was considered “unsporting” by the collective of barbaric beasts, because wearing it was a sign of weakness. The armor was only useable when the brutes found a “worthy” enemy. The Brutes did not wear their armor during the Camp Eden assault four days ago, so this meant that these Brutes were from a different assault group. Simyaldee knew that he would need to report this to the council and the Arbiter. But he pondered to himself who the Brutes feared in order to wear their armor; the humans, his Sangheili brothers, or perhaps the Demon and his team?
“Is it one of ours?” A Brute mumbled from cover. He lifted his face mask and peered at the distant phantom. “I do not see it lowering its gravity lift, and the crashed human vessel has been stirred. Something is happening.”
“You fool.” A Brute in silver armor snarled. “If the phantom does not see us, why would it lower its gravity lift? We called for support and the holy Prophet of Truth sent us support. We should go out and meet them!” The Brute stood but was quickly forced back to the ground by a Brute in red armor.
“We called for support two days ago!” The red armored Brute roared. His helmet was more elaborate then the other Brutes in the group, and a hammer was strapped to his back, a hammer that Simyaldee easily recognized. It was smaller, but it was assuredly a copy of the ‘Fist of Rukt’. Was this the new Brute Chieftain?
“We have not been told that support is coming, so why would his holiness send support now?” The red Brute snapped. “We lost two cruisers and over seven hundred warriors to the Flood before we gained control of this sector. We failed his holiness and he will not send support to us now, not that the Great Journey is so close. No, this is not our aid. That is most likely a Sangheili transport inspecting the crash sight.”
“Vermin!” Grumbled several of the Brutes.
The leader turned to a less decorated Brute in red. “Send for the Unggoy, we’ll send them over the dam to fish out the Sangheili.” The lower ranked Brute raced down the hill toward the camp. “Once we discover their numbers then we will attack.”