SGP
Halo ODST => ODST Fan Fiction => Topic started by: Dunder Moose on November 26, 2009, 04:21:24
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Perchance To Dream
Part 1:
Sierra 417 decanted from the chryopod, put its boots on the line and initiated startup sequence. James recovered from hypersleep slower and often woke up during systems check. The techs called it wet bootup, the period of confusion before James the man and Sierra 417 realized they were the same being.
The thaw was far quicker than the freeze, and James was fine with that. As far as he saw it the ice crystals could melt as fast as they wanted, provided they froze nice and slow. If they froze too fast, large jaggy crystals form, puncturing cells. It’s like taking a dozen needlers on full auto at the cellular level. You couldn’t tell until you thawed the poor guy and saw him rot faster than apple slices on the counter.
For another thing James 417 liked the slow freeze. Sure it felt like dying of exposure, but that was the only sleep where he dreamed true human dreams. Once the Spartan entered full freeze his subconscious was caught up in a battery of procedural refresher dumps, weapon and vehicle specs, technology and tactical updates (years could pass and he’d need to be current with warfare), but most of all training simulation. In the coldness of his pod he fought battle after battle against all types of enemies to keep his reflexes and intuition razor sharp for combat. Most sims involved him fighting other Spartans, Spartans with outrageously colored armor going by names like Stompy, Noodle and Grumpy.
The room snapped into heightened focus. The machine-weapon merged with the man-weapon. He was now James 417. He subconsciously cataloged every weapon in the room as well as entry points, exits (both built-in, and ones he could make with the weapons) and set up arcs of fire likely for taking the room or defending it. He didn’t think about these, just knew them as well as the technician knew c followed b.
The technician gave him thumbs up.
“Hold it.” James 417 popped his helmet.
“Something wrong with your display?” the Tech asked.
James 417 scratched his nose.
“Been needing that for a year and a half.” he said.
The tech just stared.
Frag! James 417 thought. Spartans don’t joke often. That one had been wasted. He’d forgotten the Spartan’s characteristic slack facial expression didn’t sell humor well. Those who have seen a Spartan’s face usually feel relieved when the helmet goes back on. They find Spartans’ strange humanity even creepier than the faceless man-tank.
Time to find out what they need, James 417 thought. He loaded an assault rifle, pressed it to the tracking on his shoulder and stalked out toward the bridge as it secured to his back. It was presumptive of him to take it. Usually the Spartan’s first weapon on awakening is a Magnum personally handed to him by the ship’s Captain. A century’s old tradition saying: “You are the finest arrow in my quiver. I loose you against our foe.” James 417 had just woken up on the wrong side of the pod today.
Part 2
James 417 stalked into the mess hall and grabbed a tray. The place quieted immediately. He went through the whole line grabbing only a bulb of Sierra Dew and a candy bar. He turned, looking for a table and saw every eye on him. A tech beckoned him over to their table, but he kept scanning. He’d rather eat with a an elite. Sure their mouths looked like an octopus crotch, but they didn’t take the techs’ mothering tone with him. He was sure each tech saw him more like their prize sports car than a person. Not to take anything away from how disgusting an elite’s mouth was. They had four jaws like a squid and a shark had a baby. Each tentacle had serrated teeth and they were soft and loose when punched, but without a Mjolnir glove on you’d pull back a bloody pom-pom for a hand.
He saw a table of ODST’s but decided to sit with Marines. Jarheads love a good Spartan. They love him like the sight of a Scorpion coming over the hill, a wing of Hornets streaking toward the enemy, almost as much as they love the sight of an empty Pelican landing with open doors.
James 417 had found ODST’s to be polite, professional, and distanced. No doubt they were used to being the top dogs on the respect chain and resented any time one of his kind were thawed out.
He took his seat at the table and popped his helmet.
“Nice ‘stash!” said a Marine across from him in a drab tank top, “Been a few decades has it?”
“Not so long.”
“No, Judson,” said another Marine, a female named Velazquez, “after you’re dead and they unthaw him for the next mission, that will be the style. He’s just planning ahead, man.”
Suddenly the ODST table erupted in laughter. The Marines looked over, then back at each other.
“My name’s Velazquez, this is Hucks, Rooke, and the mouthy one is Judson.” she said indicating the Marines in turn. Rook nodded. Hucks was playing with a combat knife, making it walk down his fingers, and flipping it around the back of his hand.
“James 417”
“That’s a mouthful, I finna call you Tank.” said Rooke.
Judson was still staring at the ODST’s
“Fraggin’ Peas man. I heard one of ‘em attempted the ONI test.”
“Here we go.” said Velazquez.
“Yeah, man. They had three applicants, a Jarhead, a tech and a chick from ODST. They told them, ‘We have your spouse in that room, the final test of loyalty is to take this loaded pistol and shoot them. The leatherneck goes in, sees his wife sitting in the chair and cuts her bonds. He comes out and hands the pistol back. ‘I can’t do it. She’s my wife.’ he says. The tech, who’s lucky to even have a wife, just breaks down cryin’ in the room and they have to drag him out. The ODST fraggin’ goes in there and they hear the entire clip go off. Then they hear all manner of screaming and ruckus. Finally she comes out wiping blood off her fists and says, ‘That pistol you gave me was full of blanks so I had to beat my husband to death.’” Judson looked around the table to see if they laughed.
Velazquez rolled her eyes. James 417 laughed. He’d not heard that one before.
“Yeesh man, smile when you laugh!” Judson said.
“You know any jokes?” Hucks asked him.
“Yeah, Tank, how ‘bout it?” Judson added.
Just then an ODST walked over, turned a chair around backwards and sat across from James 417.
“I’m Riddle,” he said. He gestured to the magnum on James 417’s thigh, “you’ve talked to the Captain, do you know what’s going on?”
The room went quiet again. There was a series of screeches as the other ODSTs moved their chairs to join the group.
Riddle went on. “The ship’s been busting subspace and we’re on high readiness, but we haven’t heard squat and the Cap’s too busy to talk to us.”
The Captain had turned over the magnum without any ceremony on the bridge.
“A transmission came to prep for deploy and wake me up, but it cut off. I saw ship debris and a damaged Pelican out the viewscreen.”
“I’ll speak to that in our briefing in 30.” came a female voice from the port. An operative in dress whites from the Office of Naval Intelligence walked toward them. Everyone stood to attention.
“As you were.” she said.
“Have a seat Major!” Judson called, “Tank here was gonna tell us a joke.”
“Tank?” She looked impatient, but curiosity drew her mouth into an unwilling smile. She didn’t know Spartans could joke.
“Sierra 417, ma’am. James.” He tried to think of something funny. There was one moment that always tickled him when he thought about it. Sierra 228 and he had been in a firefight with a covenant battalion. They were doing very well for themselves when a lucky grunt had clipped 228’s arm off with a Fuel Rod Cannon blindfire. The grunts danced around his body. When 228 got up they were shocked. He sprayed them all down with his assault rifle, one armed. James 417 chuckled every time he remembered the way their little faces looked when 228 stood up. Their little eyes went wide and the methane breathers bobbed as their little mouths fell open. But that wasn’t really a joke. More of an incident where something funny happened.
“Come on, man, what’s a good Spartan joke?” Judson asked.
“I could do the cut-puppet.”
“Yeah, man, whatever.”
Quicker than any of them could follow James 417 grabbed Judson’s left arm in one hand and caught Hucks’s knife in the other. He drew the blade across Judson’s bare biceps and squeezed to either side of the cut. The red wound bulged open and shut.
“Hi my name is Cutty and I have a drooling problem, waaugh!” James 417 said in an odd high pitched voice as the cut bled down Judson’s arm.
Judson screamed. Chairs clattered as the ODST’s stood and drew their pistols, clicking safeties off and aiming at James 417’s bare head. The only other sound was Velazquez’s laughter. After a while James 417 said, “She gets it.”
“Stand down!” the ONI commanded loudly, then softer, “Stand down. He may have forgotten how slow we heal. To Spartans that’s probably a good one, huh?” she said, turning back to James 417 as the ODST’s holstered their side arms.
“Only a little funnier than tripping somebody.” he admitted, handing Hucks back his knife. Rooke and a still smiling Velazquez lifted Judson by the arms. She shook her head as she sprayed a little med foam over the cut.
“Sorry Judson.” James 417 said.
“No man, it was a good one!” Judson said wild-eyed. “Glass you!”
“Get him to sick bay, the rest of you prep your gear for drop and assemble at briefing!” the ONI said. The room cleared. James 417 sighed and put his helmet back on.
“Major.” he said before leaving.
“Noble, Amelia.” she said.
“Major Noble, thanks.” she couldn’t know what her defense had meant to him.
“You’re making quite a start of things.”
“I’m better in the combat theater.”
“You don’t say.” she smiled.
“The truth is I am having trouble fitting in.”
“Keep trying, Tank. Give them a chance. Just don’t hurt anybody.”
He was way over the normal Spartan’s word limit for the day, but something about her compelled him to go on.
“There’s not many Spartans left. I,” he didn’t know how to continue.
“I know. It’ll be alright. We just gotta get to know each other.” She patted his armored shoulder. “Now move out.” He thought she meant the whole Unit, but part of him wanted to believe she was talking about the two of them. She spanked his armored flank on his way past her.
Part 3
James 417 leaned against the acceleration as he pushed his booster frame in a high-g turn. He was with the Defiant Answer’s Broadswords, out in the debris field looking for spacesuits. His shields kept lighting up as bolts, shrapnel and silverware struck it. A mug drifted past with part of a hand affixed to it by a ball of flash-frozen coffee
The briefing had been short and sweet, because there wasn’t much to tell. The Defiant Answer received a data splash from the Cost of Dereliction commanding them to thaw the Spartan, prep for engagement and jump to this location, but it cut out before a sitrep could come through. The Defiant Answer arrived to a massive debris field and a drifting Pelican.
James 417 rounded a warped disc of reactor shielding and swept scanners over the Pelican. Red light played over his face as his visor lit up.
“Major, I have something. Minimal life support on the Pelican, heat and 02 only.”
“Copy that, Tank. Couple and bring it back. Do not crack the Pelican, we don’t know if the survivors are prepped for depressurization.”
James 417 matched speed and rotation approaching the bird from above it’s six. About 4 square miles of hull plating was lazily spinning toward the Pelican, he had to make it fast. It would take too much time to couple and power up the Pelicans controls, much less slave them over to the booster frame. At the last minute James 417 rolled the booster frame and reached up to grab the gantry hooks behind the Pelican’s cockpit with both hands. He toed the throttle to max and gritted his teeth as the two ships tried to shear him apart. The myomers in his back and shoulders whined under the force, but the Pelican accelerated, pitching down slightly, out of the path of the hull plating. He let go and realigned the booster frame for the coupling and control-slave procedure. Twelve minutes later they were back in the Defiant Answer’s landing bay.
There was no movement inside when the Pelican’s back hatch lowered. The medtechs pulled an unconscious man out on a stretcher. James 417 looked at Major Noble.
“He’s the only survivor.” she said. “Capital warship blasted to bits and only one person made it.”
“Major, he’s in a coma.” one of the techs said as they wheeled him past.
“Great.” she said.
“Ma’am there’s more.” James 417 said, “In all the debris we scanned there isn’t one fragment of the Cost of Dereliction’s engines. We have the onboard computer from the Pelican, but Amelia, the AI is missing.”
“You’ve got to be fragging kidding me!” She sighed. “Let’s brief the Captain. I want you in on this James.” She whirled and strode off toward the bridge with James 417 stalking after her.
Captain Ridley took the news well. His face remained composed although it drained white. He looked at Cerebello, the Defiant Answer’s AI. Cerebello was a perfect foil for Captain Ridley. Where the Captain was short, stocky and graying, Cerebello looked like a hairless Greek Olympian in black and green striations. Cerebello was also currently one sixth the Captain’s size as he was projected from a computer node before the starfield battle plan screen.
“Medbay report!” the Captain shouted.
“Sir! He’s in a complete coma. We checked him for implants, found none, Sir. He’s a civilian.” came a medtech’s voice over the intercom.
“Deck officer?”
“Sir! We’ve scanned the Pelican’s flight log, sending it now.” Another intercommed voice.
On the starfield screen’s top corner a window opened with the dimensions and flight log data from the Pelican. Cerebello promptly translated it.
“The Pelican indicates a massive asteroid in this location. There is no sign of it presently.” Cerebello’s voice was deep and clinical. The Starfield screen zoomed into the location to show the ghost image of the missing asteroid.
“How the frag does a glassing asteroid that size disappear?” the Captain asked. “Did we find any mineral deposits in the Cost of Dereliction’s debris?”
“None, Sir, but as I’ve pointed out to the Major, the ships engines are missing.” James 417 said.
“Are you saying someone stuck the Dereliction’s engines on the asteroid and shot it off somewhere?” the Captain asked.
“It looks like it, Captain.” said Major Noble, “We did find debris from the Hyperdrive core so we know it couldn’t jump away unless it was already equipped. Assuming it’s moving at subluminal speed we can track it, and catch it. That’s what I want you to do.”
“Yes Ma’am, but we still don’t know what hit the Cost of Dereliction. We don’t want to jump into a trap.”
“Yes Sir, we do.” said Cerebello. “The Cost of Dereliction was deliberately scuttled according to the Pelican’s logs.”
They were all silent at this. Why would the Captain deliberately scuttle his own ship after the AI and Engines were already gone, with everybody aboard?
“Well it will take months to collect and analyze all this mess.” the Captain waved a hand at the debris.
“In the meantime we have a missing ship’s AI and only one very strange theory on where it went. Let’s track down this asteroid Captain.” Major Noble said. Her tone of voice said, “that’s an order.”
“Yes Ma’am. Cerebello, call in the Broadswords and get me a fix on those engine signatures.”
“Course already plotted sir.” Cerebello said as a yellow path appeared on the starfield.
“Lieutenant, get my ODST’s ready to drop.” The Major said into her com as they left the bridge. “What the frag is going on?”
James 417 said, “I look like Sherlock Holmes to you? Just give me something to shoot.”
"Sherlock who?" she said.
Part 4
“Scramble fighters, scramble fighters. Battlestations all.” Came the Captain’s voice over the Comm.
James 417 sprinted to the hangar bay and plugged into his Booster Frame. He connected with Cerebello long enough to hear that the Defiant Answer had come across a ship while tracking the asteroid.
He launched with the broadswords but pulled up to flank as they took point in a v-wing formation. The Defiant Answer shone orange beneath him in the light of a distant supernova.
The lone craft before them winked brightly, reflecting the dying star’s rays. The light winked out and it became apparent the ship was in an uncontrolled roll.
“Unidentified vessel this is the UNSC Defiant Answer please transmit ID codes, over.”
James 417 waited.
“Unidentified vessel, I repeat this is the Defiant Answer, beam us your codes, over.”
James 417 tensed. He saw a flare of blue as the ship came about. As it got closer the electronic Friend Or Foe identified it as a broadsword. He heard sighs over the comm. Sighs of relief or maybe frustration. James 417’s neck tingled. The broadsword hadn’t transmitted its codes and it was accelerating.
“Unidentified broadsword this is Blue Leader, cut speed and join formation. We’ll bring you home.”
In response the Broadsword opened fire with chainguns. Blue Leader’s broadsword shattered in half and set off beautiful silent explosions as it’s ammo cooked off in nightmares of color.
Blue wing scattered and regrouped, but the Broadsword was accelerating toward the Defiant Answer. Before James 417 could site the broadsword in his eyes were dazzled by the staccato strobing of the Defiant Answer’s foreward batteries. The Broadsword disappeared in a rain of light leaving blue afterimages on James 417’s retinas despite the protection of his visor.
“What the frag?” He asked.
“James get back on deck. It’s time to chemically awaken Mr. Pelican and get some answers no matter what it does to him.”
“Aye, Ma’am.”
Twenty minutes later he was standing in the medbay watching Captain Ridley grit his teeth and punch his palm. Amelia Noble’s head tilted back, eyes closed and she pinched the bridge of her nose. The mystery civilian lay on the gurney flatlining.
In his helmet and in the medbay’s speakers James 417 heard Cerebello’s voice.
“He mumbled in his coma. Here is a processed sound clip.”
The clip played. It wasn’t very clear but he clearly said the sentence, “Don’t worry sweetheart, we’ll be rich and famous.” He also said soldiers or maybe salvage.
That was it. Their only witness was dead on the bed. He didn’t bother anyone again until he was on the bridge shooting the Captain.
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I really like this, a great mix of sobriety and comedy.
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Yes, I second that thought. Very, very nice Dunder. I especially liked the simulation tie-in with the real-life game.
For what its worth, I'm quite proud that the SGP is hosting the talents of all who have written so far! I look forward to more daring exploits from Spartan 300, more revelations about Yumiko Kitano, another slack-faced joke from James-417, and maybe even the slightest peep from Sergeant Kenji Hiamato. (nudge, nudge)
(It's ok, Kenji. I know I have you pretty occupied at the moment...)
Well done one and all!
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Part 2 posted. It's a bigun because I had a lot of driving time and not much access to computers. I typed it all in one sitting in a 1300 word spree. Just a warning, there's a little blood and guts type stuff in this one. A bigger warning, you get more Spartan humor as well. Actually the two are kinda the same thing.
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"Hi my name is Cutty and I have a drooling problem, waaugh!"
That..was...how should I said it...
Weird? :laugh: Anyway, it's a good one, Keep one goin'.
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Part three posted as well as some minor edits. Tightened up some prose. Promoted the ONI from "Agent" to "Major." Renamed some characters slightly.
Part three uses the Booster Frame from the Legends episode "The Package." If you didn't get a chance to see it, it looks like a motorcycle had a baby with an X-wing.
Feel free to post critiques or where you think this story is going. And sorry it took so long for part three to come along.
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Part 4 posted. More mystery, more space.
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Cool, Did you make this?
I am thinking of making a Story
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Thanks Hornet. Sure did. Check out the ODST Fan Fiction (http://subculturelifestyle.com/forum/index.php?board=52.0) section of this forum. Read the Readme and get started with your own. I can't wait to see what you come up with.
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Not gonna be easy i have thousands of stuff lol but i might get it done tommorrow
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Sorry for the jump. Max character limit hit. Part 5 is violent and has scary imagery. You've been warned.
Part 5
James 417's helmet sat next to a 3D Chessboard in Major Noble's quarters. They played while trying to make sense of what they'd seen. James 417 didn't talk much during hard thinking so Amelia bounced ideas off him. They played like amateurs.
"Maybe it's some Covenant troop type we haven't seen before. Like commandos that can infiltrate and even use our equipment?" she said.
"Hmm." James 417 said and moved a bishop up two boards and diagonally three squares. "How did they get onboard?"
Amelia took the Bishop with a pawn. "What if they can look like us?"
Their eyes met, horror on both their faces at the possibilities.
"You really need to lose that mustache. It's very distracting." she said. James 417 stared at her and their tension broke with sudden laughter.
"It must be really bad if it takes your mind off shapeshifting aliens." he said when he could.
"It's just, that's how I deal with stress."
"Random insults?" he asked. She went into the head and came out with a towel, a razor and a bulb of shaving cream.
"No way!" he said, laughing again.
"Hold still. That's an order." She squirted cream on his lip and whisked the razor under his nose. James 417 shifted in the seat. She was leaning over, straddling his armored thigh, focused intently on his mouth. He could see the fine wrinkles around her eyes, and faintly smell her floral shampoo. She wiped the leftover cream from his mouth. "Much better." He grabbed her waist, intent on stopping her next word with a kiss when the alarm klaxon sounded.
They moved as one, she grabbing her pistol and he his helmet before dashing into the hall. He jammed his helmet on and heard Cerebello giving the damage report.
"Fire in the morgue, two casualties. Small arms fire in the hall behind the Bridge."
The Bridge! They rounded the corner to see the dead civilian jamming on the button to close the decompression doors. James 417 dove through the hole as the door irised shut, trapping Major Noble outside. Captain Ridley raised his sidearm to fire on the corpse. It caught and wrenched the Captain's arm, loudly breaking the bones and tossing the him into the comm controls. It picked up the pistol. James 417 ran at it, but the dead man fired five shots into the Captain's chest. James 417's armored fist connected with its jaw with all he had. The dead man flew across the bridge, cracked the viewport and fell to the deck. It rose steadily. Its jaw had unhinged on one side and hung at an angle. It tried to grin.
The crew took cover as it emptied the pistol at the Spartan, lighting up the deflection field and sparking off his armor. James 417 had frozen for a second. He simply had not expected an unarmored human to get up after taking that punch. Cracking the viewport should have broken every bone in its back.
They ran at each other, James 417 pulling back for another punch. The dead man caught his fist and pivoted, throwing James 417 right back at the viewscreen. Wen the Spartan hit it, the tortured shriek of escaping atmosphere filled the Bridge. They ran at each other again, but as the man swung James 417 ducked under it and hit the override button. The pressure doors opened and Major Noble was ready. Her Recon armor was sealed and the full complement of ODST's swarmed in and pulled the crew to safety as she opened fire on the man, sending him staggering backwards. As soon as the ODST's were clear James 417 released the button. Noble realized what he was doing a second too late to lunge in, but Riddle tossed in a Spartan Laser before the door shut.
The dead man and the Spartan saw the weapon come sailing into the room, saw each other see it, and dashed toward it. James 417 got there first and laying hold of the long weapon swung it up into the man's damaged face, pulling the trigger. The man fell over on its back as the heavy weapon whined, charging up for the shot. The beam would have burned right through it had it not lashed out to tangle the Spartan's feet. The shot went over high, destroying the cracked viewport and sucking them both spaceward.
James 417 was amazed the thing could reach him. He released the weapon as they both skittered across the deck. He got a handhold and the dead man held his foot. The thing-man crawled up him until it stared into James 417's faceplate. Its jaw had completely detached and its tongue furiously slapped his neck in the wind. Fine red filaments writhed out of his open throat, feeling for James 417's face. He saw that its right arm was now a tendril twice as long and thin as it had been.
James 417 grabbed the head in one gauntleted hand and slammed it against the deck three times. On the third it finally released him and went sailing toward the open hole. The whiplike arm lashed out desperately and wound around James 417's right arm. He gritted his teeth and gave his suit the command to jettison his gauntlet. The monster sailed out into space, gripping his glove and followed by his naked hand as the Mjolnir armor amputated the forearm and sealed itself against the vacuum.
Cerebello patched video into his helmet. The exterior camera panned along the ship. The man-thing was crawling along the hull, looking for another way in.
"Shoot it." James 417 said and watched a turret rotate and fire, finally destroying the thing.
"It's over." he said into the comm.
"The Captain's dead." Major Noble replied. "I am assuming command of this ship."
James 417 sat in the Captain's chair, regarding his stump as the doors cycled open and repair techs in hardsuits came in to patch the hole.
Part 6
The next day they sighted the asteroid. Though the Cost Of Dereliction’s thrusters were by far the largest, there were many more engines sticking out of the rock at bizarre angles. It was peanut shaped with most of the thrusters bristling off the larger bulb. Along its waist lay a clutter of landed broadswords and one civilian yacht. People were climbing around the outside of it.
Now-Captain Noble whistled through her teeth as they surveyed the readouts on the Defiant Answer’s bridge.
“Is there any atmosphere on that rock?” she asked.
“Affirmative.” Cerebello said. “I detect a weak Crawford field holding in the atmosphere. But most of the reactions powering those thrusters are unshielded. It’s how I found them so quickly. The whole asteroid is extremely radioactive.”
“So how’s the crew climbing around in high rad?” she asked.
“Could be a resistant alien biology, or hardsuits.” Cerebello offered.
“The thing I fought yesterday used to be a man.” James 417 said. “If it was an alien it didn’t start that way.”
“Give me closeup on those crawlers.” said Noble.
The screen magnified to show the creatures. They had four limbs and a head, but there the similarities to humans ended. The shoulders were huge as were the arms. The neck was engulfed. Also, many of them had a long whip for one or both arms, or extremely long fingers.
“We’re taking those things out and getting our AI back.” Noble said grimly. “Battlestations! James get to your booster! I want my peas in the pods! Marines, suit up for vac! Techs, proof the Scorpions and Hogs for anti-rad. You have two hours people! Shag it!”
As the boots hit the deck she turned to Cerebello. “Wait ‘til my Broadswords are ready to launch. Fire a salvo at their thrusters and then jump us 3 hours ahead. Launch Broadswords and set up the optimal ambush formation.”
“On your mark, Ma’am.” Cerebello said, smiling.
“Mark!”
The Defiant Answer opened fire. The fighters launched off the asteroid like a swarm of hornets, whirled once then homed in on the Defiant Answer. It waited just long enough to see the main thrusters shatter then disappeared.
Part 7
It was a typical land-commander error. Noble had assumed that without thrust the asteroid would drift in a straight line right into their ambush. They sighted the drifting asteroid an hour early and it was well above them.
Everyone was prepared but the techs. They had fitted the Warthogs and Scorpions with gripper treads for maneuvering the asteroid in micro-gravity but they had not completed shielding the electronics from the radiation. As James 417 and the broadswords broke formation and accelerated in pursuit of the asteroid, Captain Noble gave the command to launch without the land vehicles.
Scores of pods launched from the forward bay of the Defiant Answer like a salvo of coffin-missiles. Pelicans followed trying to keep up.
“Hit it with high explosives!” Noble commanded.
“Ma’am, HE shells won’t do much except to the surface. Would you like me to fire Armor Piercing instead?” Cerebello said.
“Just do it!”
“Aye Ma’am.”
James 417 caught his breath as the main guns fired lances of light straight through the onrushing ships, but Cerebello knew what he was doing and though the shells speared the void close to some Pelicans and ODST pods they went down range straight and true.
The shells impacted the asteroid as the broadswords were launching. The detonations barely cratered the asteroid’s surface, but the shockwaves crumpled the fighters like a giant stomping on tin cans and blew most of the air outside the range of the Crawford field. Only a dozen or so made it off the surface whole and they flew like they were stunned, neither forming up nor attacking.
James 417 lead the dive hoping to mop them up before they could get their bearings. As one, the enemy fighters wheeled and opened fire. Ignoring the Spartan’s broadswords they sent missiles and chaingun fire into the ODST pods, shattering several.
“Foxtrot one! Foxtrot two! Guns,guns,guns!” James 417 cried and his wing opened fire destroying the enemy fighters in one volley. He broke off from the group, heading for the asteroid’s surface, commanding the fighters to pick off the remaining thrusters and provide air support for the surface battle.
Ten minutes later, his boots on the asteroid, he commanded the deploying ODST’s to fan out, fire on site and locate the AI. The void was unbearably quiet. Nothing moved on the surface. They swept their patrol. He went back to his booster frame for some altitude. Thirty minutes later he radioed the Defiant Answer to report.
“Ma’am there’s no sign of life down here. The ODST’s have discovered some very unusual linkages for the Thrusters, but no sign of the AI.”
“Tell me about the thrusters, James.” Captain Noble said back.
“They are powered and commanded by some sort of biomechanical connections. Part cabling from the Cost Of Dereliction, part connective tissue from who knows what.”
“Is it alive?”
“Yes, Captain. I think so.”
The radio filled with screams.
“Defiant Answer this is Delta Seven! Multiple contacts, multiple contacts!”
“I’m inbound Riddle!” James 417 called whipping the booster frame about. “Marines! Converge on Delta Seven, move! Broadswords give me cover!”
They were on the far side of the asteroid. As he rounded it James 417 could see the bright lines of tracer fire and see the tiny sparkles of starlight off the spinning ejected casings, but he could only hear the gunfire when the suit radios activated.
The creatures were boiling out of a cave. The gunfire was really chewing on them and pushing them around, but they didn’t fall or stop. The first one reached the squad of ODST’s and batted the first three off the asteroid with one swipe of its tentacled hand. They flew off screaming and writhing as the air and the blood and the heat escaped the long gash each had across his chest. They died quickly, their bodies would not be recovered.
The night burned red as an ODST discharged his Spartan Laser into the mass. Multiple creatures flew off the asteroid in burned pieces, but more swarmed out to take their place. James 417 crash landed his frame on the surface, skewing around tail toward the cave. He popped the minigun and opened fire on the horde, sweeping the fire back and forth at head height.
The monsters spun off into the sky as James 417 reaped them like grain before the scythe. The ODST’s were able to regroup and focus fire into the mass. Rockets thumped into the opening as the Marines arrived and opened fire. The wave ended and everyone waited, their barrels glowing red in the airless night.
The second wave was equally monstrous, but they looked more human and many of them came out firing assault rifles, pistols and smg’s. Air escaped the cave with them and the sounds of battle were oddly muted and tinny in the thin pressure. The front ranks of ODST’s got stitched up with the small arms fire, but only two died of suit rupture. They opened fire and let the monsters have it and it was over even quicker than the previous wave. After that there was no enemy activity for half an hour. The Marines quickly set up a minibase and stationed turrets around the mouth of the cave. The base was pressurized in minutes and the simulated gravity plate switched on. Captain Noble touched down in a pelican and called a meeting in the minibase.
James 417 watched out the portal as the gripper tanks and hogs were flown in and secured to the asteroid.
Cerebello had captured many battle images from the broadswords, and showed them zooms of the creatures they were fighting. Many wore scraps of uniforms and armor from the Cost Of Dereliction.
“You mean we’ve been killing Marines?” Judson asked, face pale. His group had been especially boisterous in celebrating on the mic’s as each monster fell.
“They weren’t Marines any more.” James 417 said.
Cerebello spoke. “Seismic scans from the bombardment show this asteroid is heavilly tunneled and hollow in at least one large place. We have to assume the main force is inside and have secured the AI there.”
“What are the alternatives?” Captain Noble asked.
“That they just tossed the AI into the void like an empty beercan.” said Riddle. Judson and Rook exchanged knowing glances and Velazquez laughed.
“You mean we might crack this egg, fight all the forces of hell inside and the AI might be whipping through the galaxy?” she asked.
“Not likely.” said Cerebello.
“He’s right.” James 417 said. “Whatever these are, they started human. Some of them had to know the value of an AI. What’s guiding this asteroid? What are the thrusters connected to?”
“But why would our AI guide their ship for them?” Riddle asked. He looked at another ODST, callsign Chillswooper who shrugged.
“Probably had no other choice.” said a serious ODST named Helios Thulsa.
“Alright. So we’re going on the assumption that the AI is in there.” Noble said. “Cerebello, what can you tell me about the Cost of Dereliction’s AI?”
“Real sweetheart. Striata. She’s pink and a genius.” Cerebello said.
Thinking of the human monsters he’d seen, James 417 asked a question and dreaded the answer.
“Cerebello, did the Cost of Dereliction have a Spartan?”
“Yes, James. It did.”
“Ann.”
“I’m afraid so. It’s likely that the AI is toward the back of the asteroid, close to where the main thrusters were wired in.”
They all sighed at Cerebello’s words. The cave entrance was on the front of the asteroid. They would have to fight through the whole thing.
“Alright people we know what we need to do. The good news is that cave is big enough for our Scorpions and Hogs. And the Defiant Answer should be able to punch holes along the way for drop pod insertion of backup weapons and extra ammo. Let’s go get our lady and get out. Oo-Rah?”
“Ooo-Rah!” they answered. As they poured out of the minibase to form up James 417 thought of Noble’s words: Let’s go get our lady. He thought about Ann. He’d seen what a civilian could do when the monster took hold of them. He wondered about what a Spartan monster might be like.
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Cool Dunder Moose, That thing man seemed quite revolting
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Cool Dunder Moose, That thing man seemed quite revolting
Quite. :)
But you should be more sharp in writing: You using of pronouns is sometimes wrong.
James 417, unarmed, ran at him, but could not close the distance before he fired five shots into the Captain's chest.
It sounds funny, when you think it.
From this quote you could think that it was James who fired the pistol, but of course, it was the dead man. You should do it like this:
James 417, unarmed, ran at him, but could not close the distance before the man fired five shots into the Captain's chest.
No typos, no misunderstandings.
I think there were a couple of these, but I leave that for you to check...;)
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Thanks Imppa! I edited the confusing pronoun out and changed references to the dead man as an it rather than a him. I also edited it for length. It should flow a little better now. I like to change things like, "He was running" to "He ran." and "The door started to close" to "The door closed."
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How is he or should i say It a Dead Man
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How is he or should i say It a Dead Man
SOmething Moose won't just slip out...:/
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Part 6 posted after 5. Preparation for war.
Hornet- The Dead Man-thing was the civilian that they found in the Pelican adrift, the only known survivor of the UNSC ship, Cost Of Dereliction. He was in a coma, and then died when they tried to revive him. It reanimated in the morgue and fought its way to the bridge where James 417 encountered it. Unfortunately they couldn't get a name from him/it before it died and became monstrous.
As to why it could do that, or how? You'll have to read on.... :)
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Kewl...You're good in this Moose!
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the dead man seems like a flood lol that would be awsome to fight the thing wouldn`t it
will you ever include how he turned into the....creature ::) this story is awsome i actually been thinking of my own story when walking home today i haven`t got it quite sorted out today though may make part one though
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Thanks guys. I hope the ending satisfies. :)
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Part 7 up. Some space warfare ahead, as well as some oddly named ODSTs. :)
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YyYes! Finally!
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Part 8. Some questions are answered. Resupply for the fight. More inside-joke ODSTs show up.
Part 8
At the weapon rack James 417 looked up to see Noble approaching him.
“Captain.” he stood.
“It’s Major again. I am going in with you.” She looked at the flat surface of his armored stump. “The techs are growing your arm back as quick as they can, but it’s nowhere near ready.”
“Tell them to take their time. The fast-grown ones aren’t as strong and never quite stop tingling. Besides, I had a tech work something up on an old souvenir of mine from Reach.” He opened a case and pulled out a bone shaped rod that had been welded onto a circular cap. It snapped into place over James 417’s stump. He took a step back and activated the Elite sword.
Major Nobles eyes widened in the blue glow. She gasped at its sudden crackling energy field.
“I lost my paw, but not my claw.” James 417 said. He deactivated the sword.
“When you said that it sounded like you were smiling behind that faceplate.” she said. “I don’t think I’ve seen you do that without your mustache. I bet it looks good.”
“Spartans don’t smile, Ma’am.” James 417 said.
“They sure can lie though.” She put her hand on his armored chest. “I know you’ll do well in there, but I don’t know what we’re up against. We need to get that AI back. It’s more important even than figuring out what these things are. It could be a cake walk or we could lose everybody on the first breach. Promise me that, no matter what, you will get Striata back. And if you can’t, that you’ll destroy her.”
“I promise.”
“And if we both make it out of this...well, there’s an unfinished chess game in my quarters.”
“Ma’am you need to know about Ann. I am sure she fought to the last breath against these things. She may have been the one to destroy the Cost of Dereliction. But if they didn’t kill her, if she got...infected... The one I fought was stronger than me and it was a civilian. Ann got better scores than I did at the clone facility. She is faster, sharper, meaner. And I only have one hand.”
“Did she mean a lot to you, James?”
James 417 couldn’t speak. He was struggling not to do something else Spartans never did behind their faceplates.
“She is lovely.” he whispered so low that the helmet mic didn’t pick it up.
“I’m sure you will do whatever you need to. We all will.” she put on her Recon helm and strode away.
James 417 looked at the weapon rack before him. The sniper rifle was out, he didn’t know how much range there would be in the asteroid’s interior. The shotgun would have been the next logical choice, but with one hand he’d be slower at cocking it. He put a magnum on the hardpoint on his thigh. Turning he saw an ODST lifting a Spartan laser. His patch read Imp.
“This ought to finish them off.” Imp said, patting the weapon. That made James 417 consider his heavy weapon options. He jammed his stump under the forehandle of an incinerator and hefted it.
“Finish ‘em hey?” he said. The flamethrower had sharky jaws painted near the nozzle.
“I’m big on the finish.” said Imp.
“Me too, man.” said an ODST named Blast Nimbus. He sliced at the air with a knife.
James 417 remembered Judson’s complaint. “Fragging peas, man.”
“Zip up! We’re on the move!” Major Noble called and they all pressurized their suits. The large minibase doors fell open and they ran to form up, taking odd jerky steps in their gripper boots. Marines were mounting Scorpions and Warthogs.
A Warthog with three ODST’s skewed around to a stop by the formation. The driver’s callsign was Wasp. ODST Bugger rode shotgun and their gunner’s tag read Shatbiker. They all seemed to carry an almost ridiculous amount of grenades.
Major Noble gave the order and they marched toward the cave.
Part 9
Two hundred meters in the asteroid’s cave ended in a thick muscular portal, which Judson loudly dubbed the ast-hole. Noble and Riddle were deliberating how to cut through it when it irised open on its own, whistling wind and disgorging another shambling horde.
James 417 lead the UNSC forces into the fray. He registered the front line and the odd tissue lining the tunnel and then the battle was on him and thought took a backseat to reaction. He remained on point as nobody wanted to run in front of a Spartan with a flame thrower. He was letting the thing off in short spurts, conserving the fuel. In the pressure of sudden atmosphere the gel flared brightly and the nightmare howls of the burning monsters echoed through the cavern. For every five he burned down ten got past him. The gunfire chattered from both sides and human screams joined the monsters’.
James 417’s remarkable subconscious was still busily assessing and storing away facts (he thought that perhaps the flesh lining the tunnel had exuded an acidic mucous to bore the tunnel) but his forebrain was entirely engrossed in killing the enemy. He did not hesitate. His every move was sure. For James 417 , behind joking and human interaction, this was what life was really about, and life was good.
Yellow-white streams of fire ate through limbs and armor faces and things that were once-faces. The more normal man sized things were wearing thin and behind them a monster shambled towards him, running with knuckles and feet. He hit it head on full stream and it bowled him over. The flamethrower went spinning and James 417 was in a furious hand-to-hand battle with the thing while they both burned. It grabbed him by the head and slammed him into the cavern wall hard enough to make his helmet creak. A lance of bright red light blinded James 417 and he floated a bit until his gripper boots clamped onto the ground. The things arm drifted in front of him severed at the elbow. The howling thing’s stump was big around as a tree’s. It turned to face the Marine who’d shot it and saw Judson charging up his Spartan laser for another shot. Before it could go for him James 417 slugged it in the side of the head. It hesitated just long enough for another shot from the Splaser that cut it in two.
“Thanks Judson!” James 417 called.
“No sweat Popsicle! Just gave him a cut-puppet!” Judson hollered back.
A bulging sack on two legs with tentacle whips stumbled toward them. James 417 drew his pistol, but another Marine hit it first with a burst from an assault rifle. The explosion blew James 417 to the other side of the wide tunnel and killed the front row of Marines.
Judson was screaming. James 417 looked up to see him covered in large bulbous jellyfish. He took aim and fired six times, bursting one with each shot. Judson was up and running. One was on his leg. He stomped it into the ground and emptied his pistol into it, screaming.
Noble ordered them to fall back. They had widened the breach and it was time to follow the Warthogs and Scorpions. They got halfway in when their own dead rose up and fired on the vehicles.
“Cerebello! What’s going on?” James 417 asked. In his helmet Cerebello’s calm voice replied.
“Reviewing the footage. The little ones that came out of the exploding life form fixed on their bodies and have reanimated them.”
James 417 shared this horrific news and they turned their weapons on their newly fallen comrades. They almost broke then, but they survived the fight and pressed on, clearing out the tunnels as they went. By the time they were halfway through the asteroid all of their vehicles had been destroyed, mainly by their own grenades and rockets. They feared the stumbling bag monsters. Once some small arms fire raked an infected looking clump of spheres and more of the jellies swarmed out, leaping and whipping red-feathery tendrils. Once more their dead arose. Once more James 417 had to pick them off with his pistol, this time from Major Noble herself. Her suit was ripped open at the arm and several tentacles dove at the wound like tongues to lap the blood. James 417 ran up and ripped the thing off her, it’s tentacles tearing into pieces. She sprayed sealer foam over the cut.
“There’s pieces wriggling in my arm! I’ll get the rest out when we’re back at base.” she said.
“Ma’am! We can’t go on like this.” he said. She nodded. She gave the retreat order before the men could run. They had reached over seventy percent casualties.
“James!” she called him, “You know what to do!”
He nodded and watched them retreat, leaving him behind. He replenished his ammo and grenades, picked up a battle rifle and pressed on.
“New strategy Cerebello.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’re not gonna clear this thing out. We’re going for the AI and getting out. Give them a chance to get off the rock then prepare to fire.”
“Sir, I can’t fire danger close without authorization from the Major.”
“Just get ready.”
Part 10
20 minutes later, panting, James 417 stood at a thick muscular wall. He had killed more creatures than he could count. He had sneaked past even more. If Cerebello’s heads-up display was accurate he was near the nerve center of the asteroid. According to the seismic readings the initial bombardment provided, on the other side of this portal the asteroid was completely hollowed out. No more tunnels to slink down.
He checked the tunnel down which he’d come and, finding it empty, activated his elite sword. The membrane was thick and tough, but once he’d cut past the outer ring the door shied open away from his blade.
Must have hit a nerve, he thought.
Inside was a huge cavern dominated by the internal workings of the large ship motors, harshly lit by the glaring spheres and angles of the Crawford field generators. Before the main control for the Nano-graviton pulse hub was a familiar pedestal with a pink hologrammatic female glitching occasionally.
“There she is.” said Cerebello. James 417 deactivated the blade.
The egg-sacs he had come to fear filled the cavern and he saw a pulpy mass, larger than a broadsword-class fighter, with several fibrous tendrils wrapped around the base of Striata’s pedestal. Way off to the left, tipped over as if tossed aside, was a Spartan cryopod.
He jumped for it, through the sagging portal relishing the acceleration as his boots left the tunnel and he floated into the empty globe. His rapid flight seemed like a lazy drift in the large open space and the spears of blue, yellow and white Crawford light played over his armor like dapples on a dolphin just under the surface.
Striata noticed him sailing toward the cryopod and giggled.
He hit the surface hard enough to activate his velocity shields, then hand-over-handed his way to the cryopod. The armor inside was almost identical to his own. A little shorter perhaps; wider pelvis and narrower codpiece. Ann 137 was stenciled on its shoulder. His armored fingers scraped down the frosted glass. Then he pulled the release lever.
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Part 9 up. The good guys get a whoopin'. Enjoy.
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"This was what life was really about, and life was good." Yeah! :)
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Part 10 up. It's short, but I figured it was better to keep them coming than wait until I'd finished the thing. More coming soon. Warning. Contains sword use on a sphincter.
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IT'S A TRAP!
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Part 11
Sierra 137 Decanted from the cryopod and snapped to zero-G attention, body rigid, toes pointed. James 417 fished the gripper attachments out of its case on her cryopod and fastened them to the bottoms of her feet while the startup sequence initiated. By the time he had maneuvered her to latch on to the wall next to him Ann had woken up. She put both hands on his chest and shoved hard, grabbing the magnum off his hip while he windmilled his arms, trying to stay attached to the cavern wall.
“You son of a bitch!” she said.
“Woah, woah!” said James 417.
She aimed the pistol at his head and he executed a quick takeaway, snapping the gun out of her hand. As he raised it to bear on her she used the same move taking the gun right back. As it left his hand he managed to flick the clip release and the magazine slid out to float between them. When she reached for it he snapped the gun out of her hand again and aimed it with his stump in front of the handhold. She quickly grabbed the top and racked it back toward him ejecting the last chambered round to spin between their faceplates. They stared hard at each other. Finally she grabbed the round and clipped it into the magazine.
“You have the gun and I have all the bullets.” she said. James 417 didn’t reply. An impish part of him wanted to activate the elite sword soldered onto his stump, but he refrained. It might be good to have a few surprises left in him.
“I need to get to medical. I don’t have much time! You shouldn’t have woken me here!”
“Let me grab Striata and we’ll get out of here fast.”
“No. That one’s crazy.” She said, pointing at the pedestal with the large mass attached to it. “I have a backup taken before that thing took hold of her.” She tapped her helmet.
“I can’t just leave her here.” James 417 said and pushed off. He sailed across the gap and landed hard next to Striata.
“Hang on, ma’am. I’m getting you out of here.” he said.
The AI’s laugh was a delightful tinkling in his helmet. When he touched her disc the large mass convulsed and several of the chords let loose of the pedestal to thrash at him. Her laughter turned to a hideous scream.
“NO! YOU WILL NOT TAKE HER!”
James 417’s vision blurred as the new voice rolled through him. He grit his teeth and pulled the disc. Keeping Ann 137’s warning, though he put it in his belt pack instead of sliding it into his helmet.
“YOU FOOL!”
The egg sacs in the entire chamber burst open and the strange creatures exploded into the cavern like a firework in hell. James 417 fired his pistol three times before he remembered it was empty. Three loud explosions rocked him and he saw an open path through the writhing monsters to the portal.
How did she? he began to think, then realized that all the grenades were missing off his belt.
“Move it James!” Ann 137 shouted, diving for the portal.
“You beautiful kleptomaniac!” He said back starting to dive, then he saw it. One of the creatures he had come to think of as a tank was forcing its way through the ruined portal.
“Ann!” James 417 cried and tossed the pistol at her. She caught it, slammed home the clip and chambered the first round in one fluid motion while she soared toward the hole. She raised the pistol over her head and fired the whole clip into the monster’s head. It finally died on the last round, but the entire opening was filled with the monsters, alerted by her grenades. Three pear shaped ones crawled around the opening and opened, looking like an inside-out hedgehog, bristling with spines. The spines fired, each one zipping dead-on into the velocity field around Ann 137’s head. She tossed a flame grenade which engulfed one killing it, and caused the other two to close up, protecting themselves from the heat and ceasing their fire. She landed and leapt off of one of the closed ones, back toward him as more tanks bashed their way in. As she speared toward James 417 he noticed the tunnel her grenades had made through the little creatures was collapsing quickly
“Cerebello! Fire one AP round on my position!” James 417 commanded.
“I need authorization from the,”
“Do it or I die!” James 417 commanded.
“Foxtrot one.” Cerebello said and James 417 jumped for all he was worth. A magnificent hole opened on either side of the great cavern, with a core of light running from one side to the other, passing three centimeters below James 417’s feet. The Crawford field generators exploded in a glory of light and all of the little creatures in the cavern popped at once.
James 417 saw Ann 137 as a blue lozenge of light coming toward him as her shields maxed out, trying to cope with the energies being released in the room. Then the entire cavern went dark.
She collided with him in the weightless dark. He put his arm around her waist. A tentacle wrapped around his foot and pulled them both back toward the pedestal.
“PUT HER BACK, NOW!”
James 417 quickly got his bearing. He shoved Ann 137 toward the opening the Defiant Answer had blasted into the asteroid. She drifted bonelessly toward the opening.
“Ann!” he called, but she did not respond.
When his boots touched down on the squishy mass it spoke in his head again.
“I HAVE PLANS AND YOU CAN BE A WONDERFUL PART OF THEM. THE BIOMASS ON THAT STARSHIP IS CALLING OUT FOR THE LIBERATION OF THE GRAVE. POOR RAMPANT STRIATA WANTS A MATE AND I WANT ANOTHER AI.”
Before it could say more James 417 activated his sword and jammed it into the center of the mass. He dragged it one way, then another making a large plus sign, before leaping at the hole in the sky. The thing made no more noise.
He caught Ann 137 with the crook of his elbow and caught the rim of the asteroid, swinging them out onto the surface. His gripper boots bit into the rock and he ran toward his booster frame with Ann 137 over his shoulder. She shuddered. He set her down on her feet.
“It’s too late for me James, I can feel it.”
“No, we can get you back.”
She coughed, gagged. “I can feel them tickling my throat. How many Spartans left?”
“I don’t know.”
“John?” Her question bit a piece out of his heart.
“He’s alive. He’s on the Pillar of Autumn.”
“That’s good.”
James 417 was about to tell her how he’d always felt about her, how it had changed since he met Major Noble, but was stronger for the trial. Before he could say anything she interrupted him.
“You should run now.” Her voice had grown so deep the last word was almost masculine.
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Part 11 posted.
Warning: an upset character swears. I usually Keep It Clean, but Spartans can wake up nasty.
I also edited earlier portions to include atmosphere on the asteroid. I learned that high explosives produce no shock wave in a vacuum and I needed oxygen for James 417's incinerator to burn. It also gave me the option for the cool lighting effects of the Crawford generator in the hollow cavern.
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Well here it is, the thrilling conclusion to Perchance to Dream. Since we are at the end I thought I'd give you parts 12 and 13 together. Note, I have edited part 11 slightly, adding a couple significant coughs and a gag to Ann's speech.
Part 12
James 417 saw the pressure seals on her joints mist as tentacles broke out of them, spraying her oxygen reserves into the vacuum left by the Crawford generator's collapse.
James 417 froze. His options were to run, and leave behind the sane Striata in Ann 137's helmet, or stand and fight the woman he had come to care about more than anyone else. But while James the man froze on his dilemma, Spartan 417 acted for him. Spartans were built for one thing, and if running was involved, it was toward the enemy.
His low kick dislodged one of her gripper boots and sent her overbalancing backward. As she fell a tentacle whipped out of her left palm and snaked around James 417's helmet, blocking his sight. She jerked his head forward and both his gripper boots lost traction as he sailed over her.
He grabbed the tentacle before it could release him into the void and swung around like Tarzan, landing on the asteroid behind her. She released her remaining gripper and pulled on the tentacle, crashing into him in a flying kick that knocked them both off the surface of the asteroid. He climbed up her body until he was looking into her faceplate. The thing in there had her eyes, but little else, and even those were beginning to change.
"Ann. If you're still in there...." his voice choked off.
"YOU KILLED THE GRAVEMIND, THERE CAN BE NO REASONING!" she said.
"If any part of you is aware, know that to me, knowing you was the best part of being a Spartan.â"
The pupils of her eyes broke like yolks into her irises and her jaw unhinged as a beak pressed out of her open mouth. It opened and he swore he heard her voice.
"Release me."
The tentacle whipped his back hard and when it pointed at him he saw a spine of bone protrude from the tip, sharpened to the molecule. It was now or never. He held his stump above her heart and activated the elite sword. The beak opened and shrieked a duet with his heart as he destroyed Ann 137.
He saw a red glow and realized that she still had a grenade. He put his feet on her shoulders and shoved off just as it detonated. His sword had overpowered her shields and she shattered into pieces, his shields held as he rode the wave away from her body, the overmax alarm beeping in his ears.
Faintly he heard Cerebello's voice.
"He's clear, opening barrage.
Red and yellow fire bathed the cosmos as the Defiant Answer obliterated the asteroid, and floating amidst the chaos one blue dot, sobbing into the silence.
"James 417, you will be retrieved shortly." Cerebello said.
"Leave me," he said, "I failed. Striata, the sane one, just got destroyed." He reached across himself with his good hand to touch his belt pack, thinking of the infected mind it contained. The stars were blotted out by the Pelican slowly jetting over him. The analog tactile pistons in his glove told him there were two disks in the pack.
He looked at the red starburst that had been Ann 137, like a firework frozen at its apex.
"You beautiful klepto. You planted it when I carried you. I'm sorry all I could give you was rest. I hope it's enough."
The gangway opened and a Recon-helmeted trooper floated out on a tether to embrace him.
Part 13
The tech held up the two disks, eyeing one, then the other.
"How do we know which one's infected and which one's sane?"
James 417 pointed to the one on the right.
"That one with the goop on it is the bad one."
"Which should we study first?" the tech asked, clearly more interested in the insane AI.
"You are not plugging an insane AI into my ship, get a quarantined box if you want to play psychiatrist." Captain Noble said.
The tech pushed the clean disk into Cerebello's pedestal. Striata materialized next to him. They hugged, delighted to see one another, his electric green clashing with her pink.
"I don't know as much about it all as the rampant Striata, but from my position in Ann 137's head I gathered a loose timeline." Her voice was high and clear like a silver bell. "The Cost of Dereliction came upon a damaged yacht with an SOS beacon. The civilian we brought onboard was reluctant to speak, but eventually it came out that he had discovered an artifact. He described a giant ring. He didn't want to talk because he wanted the salvage rights to it; thought he'd make a fortune.
"He unleashed something on the ring and it followed him back to his ship. When we found him, he was living on an oxygen tank in the ship's privy. It got onboard the Cost of Dereliction and killed, then resurrected our shipmates one by one. Ann 137 was able to start the self-destruct, but not before she got infected. She tried to pull me and went back into cryo to slow the metamorphoses and hopefully get cured before she changed. Unfortunately she didn't get the full dump. The infected crew cut the lines to a few of the scuttle charges and so preserved the ship's engines and me. They ghosted me aboard the ruined husk and that other version was pressed into service, designing their asteroid ship and salvaging what she could from the decimated warship. By that time they had enough biomass to start amalgamating a bio-AI calling itself a Gravemind. It turned the other me toward its purpose. They were off toward the nearest habitable planet to infect it. They don't care, Covenant or Human, they want it all."
"They were destroyed. Everything but the rogue Striata," James 417 said.
"She should be destroyed too. She would try to bring him back."
Noble turned and looked at James 417.
"Thank you James. Thanks for going in when we fell back."
"You are welcome, Captain."
"It seems our enemies are not alone in the universe. This is bad news. We need to jump near command and pass the word along." She cleared her throat.
"Yes Ma'am. I'm going back to my pod."
"You know, our last command was to thaw you. There's nothing official that says you have to go back into freeze." That's all she said in front of the men on the bridge, but with her eyes reminded him of an unfinished game of chess in her quarters.
"Yeah, Popsicle!" said Judson, "You may have a horrible sense of humor but you saved us all in there. You're nice to have around, man."
"You don't want to go back in the pod just when you're starting to fit in." Riddle said with a smile.
“There are not many Spartans left. The clone facility was on Reach. Each minute we stand here talking about it is a minute I get older and closer to my expiration date. It is a waste of UNSC resources, training and materiel. I was made to do one thing, and this ain’t it.â€
"James, don't be like that. What about our time? Our time together?" she said, shocking him with her openness in front of the troops. She was sacrificing her leadership credibility to ask him to stay.
He froze again. Wanting it so badly. To open up to them, to lay down his fight and have fun with his friends. To let them become his family. And he could sense that they needed him too. Needed a hero to help them deal with the grief of losing so many. And while James the man froze, Spartan 417 acted. Spartans were built for one thing. It spun him on his heel and said:
"Wake me when you need me."
As he stalked off the bridge he heard Amelia Noble cough loudly. Riddle asked if she was okay. She told him it was just a tickle in her throat.
The lid closed and the cryonic fluid filled his veins, slowing his heart, goose pimpling his skin and making him gasp. He shivered. His new hand itched and tingled. He shuddered and then hypothermia set in. As he lost consciousness he started to dream true dreams that would soon be replaced with subroutines and battle simulations.
He dreamed of a woman. She was Ann and Amelia Noble at the same time. She ran to him across an enormous checkerboard. When she reached him he embraced her, running his gloved hand up her back, and watching her lips smash on his faceplate as he kissed her.
James 417 "So whoever knows the right thing to do and fails to do it, for him it is sin."
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O.o
*speechless*
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This was fraggin awesome!
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Wow! That was great!