The 13th Tribe Book II: A Symphony of War

[Eternal_Freedom]

Here it is everyone, especially my American readers who are... concerned about current events. Here's a completely different apocalyptic threat to be concerned with!

Into the Dark
AI Core, Installation 05
One Hour Later

The assembled Spartans were moving steadily but cautiously through the vast, seemingly empty facility for an hour now, expecting to be ambushed at every corner and junction. Every drip of fetid water had at least three of them tensing, dingers ready to pull triggers and sent a burst of lead at whatever lurked in the shadows.

Fortunately, in every case so far it had been just a drip of water and nothing more sinister. Though they betrayed no visible emotion the twenty-one supersoldiers were incredibly tense, a situation that manifested itself in subtle changes in body language, stance and movement. No one but a Spartan and Doctor Halsey would be able to recognise the signs, tiny as they were, but to one of those in the know it was as if each soldier carried a big neon sign saying “I’m nervous.”

Even Dying Light had picked up on the tension after the first few minutes, and had not said anything audible since entering the facility, restricting himself to sending brief text messages to the HUD in the Master Chief’s helmet with directions and situational updates. While not doing that the Monitor was busy trying to probe the systems that were still functional and determine exactly what 2401 Penitent Tangent had done. The more the Monitor learned the more concerned he became.

This should have been an area that was clean, brightly lit and heavily patrolled by Sentinels and their larger brethren, Enforcers but none were in evidence, not even wreckage. The walls were covered with burn marks, but those were faded and worn away by time, not fresh. There was slime, dirt, and the aforementioned fetid water sitting around which made everyone present very glad they were in sealed helmets (or did not possess olfactory senses, in the Monitor’s case).

There was no sign of the Flood, which was both good and bad. Good, because the further they got before contact the less time they would have to spend fighting but bad because if they weren’t here then where were they. A good number of Flood forms had most likely been washed away by the Covenant plasma bombardment but that had quite deliberately only scoured the surface, it hadn’t touched the AI Core facility at all. The Flood forms could be elsewhere on the Ring and heading back here at high speed, in which case the ODST’s would be busy. The most likely option though was that they were all deeper in the facility, waiting in ambush.

That was particularly bad as it implied something was controlling and directing the Flood forms rather than them following their usual instincts of feeding and reproducing. Either the Flood had developed some form of higher intelligence themselves or 2401 Penitent Tangent was just as much of a traitor as 032 Mendicant Bias had been a hundred millennia prior. Dying Light found this a particularly disturbing possibility – if such a capacity for betrayal existed even in a fellow Monitor, what did that say about his own programming? Was it fully secure? He left a reminder to run a full diagnostic and security-threat analysis once the current mission was concluded.

His link to the Keyship high above pinged as the sensors detected a swarm of opening slipspace portals, it seemed the Jiralhane fleet had arrived.

Fleet Ops, Warstar Jupiter, in formation near Installation 05

Jellicoe, Mace and the holograms of Baird and Cole watched impassively as the swarm of portals opened and ships began to emerge. The count went up and up, a dozen, three dozen, then eighty, a hundred forty and finally concluding at three hundred vessels. And these were not small escorts or under-gunned carriers. These were ships befitting the Jiralhanae’s UNSC codename, Brutes.

John nodded once the mass emergence from slipspace ended. He quickly realised that every one of these new enemy ships were identical: two kilometres long, eight hundred metres wide and mostly cylindrical, with the bow end tapering to a sharp point reminiscent of a rifle bullet. Four large bulges, most likely weapon mounts ringed the tapering section, with twenty smaller mounts in four rings of five around the midships area and a cluster of massive engines at the rear. The Colonial Admiral looked over at one of his staff.

“Commander Harrison, threat analysis please.” The younger officer nodded, gathered some more sensor data, then stepped up to the main holo-display, calling up a more detailed image of one of the new ships as he did.

“Sirs, these are large, powerful Jiralhanae ships – sensor readings suggest about 200% more power generation than a CCS battlecruiser like we’re familiar with. Shields appear to be about half again as powerful, these bulges at the bow are four energy projectors and the twenty mounts amidships are plasma torpedo launchers. We can see no evidence of any sort of hanger bays, and given the guns and oversized engines these would seem to be pure ship-to-ship combatants. In terms of combat power I’d say they’re about equal to Eridanus.”

That discourse cause more than a few concerned looks between the senior officers. Commodore Baird was the one to break the silence.

“And there’re three hundred of them. Jesus. I’m glad we’re staying out of this fight – we are staying out of it aren’t we?”

Jellicoe nodded. “Unless they approach Installation-05 or fire on us, this definitely isn’t our fight – yet.”

Everyone present agreed with that decision and clearly understood that it may very well become their fight. The Jiralhanae had rarely been encountered by the UNSC and their ships were complete unknowns, so attempting to predict their actions was largely an exercise in futility at this point.

Cole agreed but still had to ask: “And if they do approach the Ring? Even if those were normal Covenant battlecruisers there’s no way we could stop them with just four ships.”

Jellicoe frowned but had to concede the point. “If needs be, we’ll open up at max range while hiding under the stealth field to prevent accurate counter-fire. We’ll hold as long as it takes to beam the troops up from the surface, then we arm the NOVA and get the hell out of here.”

No one particularly wanted to touch off a second enhanced NOVA bomb any time soon, especially given what it would mean for the rest of the Halo Array.

Cole looked grim. “You know what that will do, what that could cause…but it’s a better outcome than letting these bastards control the Ring. It’d clear out the Flood as well.”

Any further discussion was interrupted when Commander Harrison reported they’d been able to tap into the communications between the Covenant and Jiralhanae flagships. At a nod from Jellicoe he tied in the translation software and put it on the speakers:

”….you have no place here Sanghelli, by the Hierarch’s Word you have betrayed the Covenant. Surrender the Holy Ring to our control and we will not slaughter you – this time.”

Jellicoe, Mace, Cole and Baird shared a look at that, even three hundred of these heavyweight battlecruisers would be extremely hard pressed to destroy the massed Covenant Armada, not least the eleven Supercarriers it still counted in its ranks. Then came the Sanghelli response, and it was surprising to say the least.

”It is the thrice-cursed Hierarchs who have betrayed the Covenant, not us. This entire war is a lie, the humans are the true Reclaimers and the Hierarchs know this. They hate the idea of being wrong in their beliefs and have organised this quarter-century of slaughter purely for their pride. They have as little honour as you do Chieftain Rekassa. The Martial Code requires us to obey an Oracle, and not one but two of them have confirmed the humans are the Reclaimers, as Sanghelli warriors we are honour-bound to assist them.”

Cole blinked at that, it was an outcome he hadn’t considered from his gambit to end the fighting at Reach. If it was true, and if the Sanghelli really did hold to it…then maybe humanity and the Covenant faction loyal to the Imperial Admiral could actually live in peace. It was a strange thought for the hardened warrior – but a very appealing one. His ruminations halted as the Jiralhanae responded.

”You speak of nothing but honour Imperial Admiral, we care not for such things. We have our orders from the Hierarchs – and they are coming here. You hear that Sanghelli? High Charity has been purged of your ilk and is coming here to begin the Great Journey – and the Holy City has more than enough firepower to stop you from interfering. Now, one last chance. Take your fleets and run away to whatever corner of the galaxy you want to hide in. We will walk the path and you, your fellow traitors and those humans you care about to much will be left behind to die. You have five minutes and then we open fire.”

The channel was cut abruptly. There was a pause for a moment as the human commanders absorbed the implications of this. The idea that the Sanghelli faction would actually help them, beyond the requirements of a parley or truce was astonishing.

The display beeped and Commander Harrison gave his report.

“Sirs, the Sanghelli fleet is…what the….it’s moving into a blocking position between the Ring and the Jiralhane fleet. Hilary from Everest reports a lot of intership communication….in summary, the Imperial Admiral is ordering his forces to stop the Jiralhanae from approaching the Ring…at any cost.”

Mace couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Have we fallen through the looking glass or something? Less than a day ago they were doing their best to kill us all, now they’re running interference for us and willing to die to do it?”

Jellicoe wryly shook his head. “I don’t get it either Alan, but since it’s working for us I don’t mind. Commander Harrison, send a flash message to the troops on the surface, they may need to withdraw in a hurry. Have Dying Light relay the same to the Spartans as well, they should be ready for a hasty withdrawal to the surface and beam-out. Get Dying Light to raise the stealth field as well, we’re gonna need the cover.”

As the Commander confirmed the messages and moved off to transmit them, Jellicoe reached for a handset by the display and called up CIC. The ships’ commander, Commodore Fischer answered promptly.

“Overwatch, Iron Duke. Bring us to Action Stations, quick-charge the main battery and spin up all missiles ready for salvo fire. Prepare a scattershot for the missiles against the Jiralhanae fleet only. At this time, Sanghelli ships are not, repeat not to be targeted.”

Fischer answered even as the klaxons sounded: ”Copy Iron Duke, firing solution in progress for Jiralhanae fleet. Shall I have the CAG ready the Scimitars for a jump-shoot-jump attack as well?”

Jellicoe considered that for a few seconds. “Have them armed and ready, they’ll launch on my order if needed. Iron Duke out.”

The handset returned to it’s cradle as an idea began percolating in Jellicoe’s mind. A terrible, appalling idea, one he very much didn’t like – but might prove necessary. He looked at the hologram of his friend.

“Preston…the main weapon on these Rings…is there any way we could limit the range and not light off the others? A low-power pulse, enough to kill the Flood here, maybe the Jiralhanae fleet and High Charity as well?

Cole actually looked sick at the idea. ”I don’t know. I’ll check with Dying Light if it’s possible and what that would do to the other Ring’s failsafe programs. Please tell me you don’t want to do this.” In the weeks Jellicoe had known Cole, he had never heard him sound like this. The UNSC officer was practically pleading with him.

“I don’t want to do it Preston, any more than you do. I don’t want to have to fire off the NOVA bomb either. But we need to know if it’s an option.”

Cole still looked horrified but nodded. ”I’ll check it out John…God I hope you’re wrong and this just stays a nightmare.”

Jellicoe could only look grimly resolved. “Me too Preston. Me too.”

The conversation was cut short as out in space, the two massive fleets were approaching engagement range. The Covenant Civil War was truly underway.

===========

So yeah, my plan has changed. It's looking like the Battle of Installation 05 will be the end of the conflict. Whether that comes from the RIng firing a local pulse, the NOVA bomb detonating or something else I ain't saying yet. Also, while this battle might effectively end the war, that don't mean that certain characters will realise or accept this, so a battle over Earth may yet still happen.

[DKeith2011]

Nothing like an interstellar, multi-dimensional war slash zombie apocalypse to take your mind of the little things like an attempted coup.

[LadyTevar]

Nothing like an interstellar, multi-dimensional war slash zombie apocalypse to take your mind of the little things like an attempted coup.

Yep. It helps.
Nice way to set the scene, EF. Now to see how it goes sideways.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Why thank you. I had initially intended this to be an entire Spartan-focused chapter but I ran out of material half way through. So I went back to space combat because it's what I know.

[LadyTevar]

Why thank you. I had initially intended this to be an entire Spartan-focused chapter but I ran out of material half way through. So I went back to space combat because it's what I know.

You set the "monster in the dark" feeling perfectly with the Spartans. I'm assuming the ambush will hit just when they need to be getting the fuck outta dodge.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Oh I have a plan for the Spartans - they're gonna have a fun time before they get back to Jupiter.

[fnord]

Sure it won't be the fun having the Spartans?

[Eternal_Freedom]

Running and gunning in firefights with their fellows? That's the Spartan's idea of a good time given how they were raised/trained, so I'm sure some of them at least will enjoy it.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Well, I know it's been a while everyone. But! My laptop is back in (mostly) full working order having swapped out an SSD for the old hard drive, and I'm now settled in my new house and I made my first cake int he new kitchen this evening. Since I'm in a creative mood, here's a whole 3000 word chapter for you!

Fight Fire with Fire,
Near Installation 05, Shortly Thereafter

The two rival Covenant fleets were just moments away from firing range, though only one was accelerating. The Jiralhanae were driving their ships oversized engines to the limits, racing in on the most direct path to the Ring and their objective. The battlecruisers were closely clustered, only a few hundred metres separating each from its fellows; for all the Imperial Admiral and the other Sanghelli leadership derided the Jiralhanae as mindless beasts, they were at least competent ship handlers.

The Sanghelli fleet meanwhile was broadside-on to the approaching enemy, formed up in a massive wall formation cantered on the eleven Supercarriers, surrounded by the nearly seventy assault carriers and lesser ships. Their lateral plasma lines were glowing blue, ready to fire and the hundreds of energy projectors were charged and ready.

The first volley would be a slaughter on both sides. Imperial Admiral Wattinree knew this and could not understand why the Jiralhanae were charging straight into his guns. There was something he was missing here and it made him nervous. Then the moment came when the leading battlecruiser crossed into engagement range. Wattinree clicked his mandibles and curtly gave a single order, unknowingly mirroring the same order given by Chieftain Rekassa on his own command deck.

“Fire.”

From each of the seven energy projectors on the massive Long Night of Solace came a white beam of focused lethality. This was firepower more than enough to overwhelm even an upgraded UNSC cruiser and put a serious hurt on a Battlestar; Wattinree was confident it would shatter the first target easily enough.

He was wrong. The seven beams slammed into the forward shields which flashed a brilliant, opaque white as they absorbed the horrendous energy. The target’s engines faltered for a moment as power was automatically shifted to the defensive systems and the ship recoiled backwards. But astonishingly the shields held.

The front rank of Jiralhane ships had likewise opened up with their own energy projectors, their beams criss-crossing the space between the two fleets and tearing into a pair of assault carriers. They had much less success in resisting the attack then their opponents did. The shields failed in moments and the white beams stabbed deep into the thinly-armoured hull, shredding critical systems and turning the nearby corridors and compartments into raging infernos as the internal atmosphere ignited.

The two carriers staggered sideways out of the formation, burning and crippled, almost uncontrollable. And this was only the effects of the first salvo. More and more energy projectors fired on both sides, along with a literal wall of blue plasma racing away from the Sanghelli ships matched by an incoming, smaller wall of red-hued plasma from the charging battlecruisers.

The two massive plasma salvos collided halfway and mixed; negating each other’s onward momentum as the guiding magnetic fields overlapped and counteracted each other. The roiling cloud provided a temporary shield for both sides as each set of commanders realised their plasma weapons were ineffective until they got closer. The energy projectors were still firing on both sides, white beams stabbing through the impromptu plasma shield in both directions. But the beams were attenuated somewhat, enough to reduce their effectiveness significantly.

The leading five Jiralhane ships found little comfort from that as a massed volley of energy projector beams lanced through the plasma cloud moments after it formed, the remaining assault carriers firing almost blindly at the last known enemy positions. Many beams missed their initial targets only to strike ships further back in the formation, denting their shields but doing nothing else.

A majority of the beams did not miss. Those five bold, foolhardy ships vanished in eye-searing plasma detonations as more than a dozen beams struck each vessel. The first ship died immediately, its shields already severely drained. The other four took slightly longer to die, but it was a delay measured in seconds not minutes as the shields collapsed like eggshells and the beams burned all the way through the hulls from bow to stern, detonating the main reactors and sublight engines on the way.

All of this, the cataclysmic destruction, the raging inferno in space, the dazzling pattern of white beams criss-crossing the space between the fleets was but a small taste of what was to come. Neither side would willingly yield. It was do or die – exactly how the Jiralhanae as well as the Sanghelli liked it.

Fleet Ops, Warstar Jupiter

Watching all this on a holo-display was Admiral John Jellicoe. His keen mind was evaluating the performance of these new warships against known Covenant vessels and was impressed. Three hundred of these monsters at Reach and we’d have lost he mused. Whilst his tactical analysis was a worthwhile effort, he was mostly marking time until Admiral Cole came back with the answer to his dreadful hypothesis. For a moment the analysis stopped and he grappled with doubt.

Can I really do this? Do I dare fire off that Ring, even as a short-range pulse? Have I that right, to gamble the entire galaxy?

The moment was short-lived. He didn’t have much choice. His only other options were firing off the readied NOVA bomb and destroying the Ring, but that was still gambling with the galaxy as it meant the other six Rings would bring themselves to firing condition automatically. The third option was to let the Sanghelli and Jiralhanae fleets slaughter each other and hope that his small force, possibly with Alliance and UNSC reinforcements would be enough to stop whatever survived.

That third option was initially appealing, but he rejected it for two reasons; firstly he knew High Charity was on its way, and that structure alone outgunned every remaining UNSC and Alliance ship and most likely whatever part of the Sanghelli survived the fight. The second option was stranger. Jellicoe felt a measure of respect for the Sanghelli and didn’t feel comfortable standing by and watching them be slaughtered. They had been the enemy, certainly, but they had been deceived into fighting the war and as soon as the truth was revealed they had stopped and turned on their Hierarchs.

So he was left with either firing the Ring or detonating the NOVA bomb. Of the two, firing the Ring seemed to have the fewest unknowns – assuming it was possible of course.

Next to him a hologram of Preston Cole flashed into view. He looked Jellicoe square in the eyes and nodded once, his own doubts visible on his face, even with the hologram. John sighed and began giving his orders.

“Signal Dying Light and have him and the Spartans double-time it to the AI Core. They’re to do what they need to do to get us in control and then make whatever preparations are needed for a local pulse. Once Dying Light is in control, activate all internal and external defences. You’d better tell your Imperial Admiral friend to be ready to let the Brutes through.”

Cole nodded. ”Should I tell Dying Light to wait for the pulse until that big space mushroom gets here?”

John smirked. “If we’ve got the fire off this damn thing might as well make it count.”

Cole just nodded again before his hologram vanished. Jellicoe smoothed his features back into the impenetrable mask of command again and turned to one of his staff.

“Lieutenant, time until High Charity arrives?”

The woman checked her console and looked back at him. “They’ve accelerated significantly Admiral, ETA now three hours.”

Jellicoe smiled in thanks and went back to his holo-display. Three hours. I hate the waiting.

AI Core, Installation 05

The Spartans were not having a good day. The assault had come, exactly as John expected it to. The onrushing horde of…creatures had burst out of doors, hallways and ceiling ducts and charged at the assembled Spartan-II’s, only to be shredded by a fusillade of assault rifle, machine gun and shotgun fire. Isaac and Grace wielded belt-fed grenade launchers that added a brutal combination of high explosive and fragmentation rounds as well.

With the initial charged soundly crushed the veteran troops had cycled through reloading their weapons, three at a time to avoid being caught off guard. A previously-unseen combat form leaped out of a ceiling duct at Anton while he reloaded his machine gun only to be blown in two by shotgun rounds from Fred and Will, who had aimed and fired instinctively. Anton nodded slightly in thanks and slapped the top cover of his gun closed and yanked the charging handle, ready once again.

They moved on. Ambushes and attacks came with increasing frequency but the assembled firepower and skill crushed them as easily as the first. They were just two rooms away from the AI Core itself when Dying Light informed John of their changed priorities. John was not happy about it but orders were orders. It was then, when repulsing the fifth assault in as many minutes that John made a fortuitous discovery: he’d been reloading his assault rifle when a swarm of infection forms got a little too close so he fired off the zat guns mounted on each forearm. He was pleased to see the strange, arcing bolts leap from target to target, popping them like balloons.

“Team, Zat’s are effective at close range. Switch to them if needed.” As one his team’s acknowledgement lights blinked on his HUD.

One more room, though this one came with a hefty blast door that served as a final barrier. In a few minutes they had cleared the Flood from the hallway and Dying Light sealed the doors behind them, buying them enough time to get the main doors open.
John looked for a control panel, with those alien yet strangely familiar glyphs but couldn’t see one.

“Dying Light, how to we open this door?” He asked, even as his hands mechanically reloaded his weapon and his team did the same.

The Monitor floated over and rocked slowly from side to side in thought. “Hmm…there are no controls and the doors are sealed. They cannot be overridden from this side, even by a Monitor.”

John winced behind his helmet, he’d expected that answer but it was still annoying.

“Breaching charges?”

The Monitor rotated slightly, as if shaking its head. “The door is too strong to be breached using the charges as they are. However, if we combine multiple charges into one using your transporter system, we may be able to breach the door sufficiently to destroy the locking mechanism.”

John nodded and turned to his team. “In threes, bring me all your breaching charges and then form a defensive perimeter. Malcolm, you’re the best with explosives, you’ll assist Dying Light with placing them.”

Malcolm nodded fractionally and was among the first trio to move over and begin pulling breaching charges from their transporter buffers. Soon a thigh-high pile of shaped charges was assembled by the door, all while Dying Light scanned the structure for the right place while a secondary processor calculated how to adjust the transporter buffer to do what was needed.

The Flood made one final attempt to assault them through a narrow side corridor while Malcolm readied the charges, but with only one or two forms able to move through the doorway at a time they were easily repelled, especially when Anton braced his heavy machine gun and let off a long burst down the corridor, cutting down dozens of combat forms and popping even more of the small infection forms.

Dying Light was ready to make the alterations. He floated around Malcolm, who had been told to stand very still. His fellow Spartans could tell he was uncomfortable with the process as the Monitor hummed idly. Then there was a flash of light and the stacked charges vanished, only to be replaced with one, much larger charge. The Monitor had used the transporter buffer to scale up the design, correcting it as he went and using the individual explosives as material. It was a novel concept and John asked Cortana to make a note of the process for his after-action report.

The Monitor then used a manipulator beam to levitate the massive shaped charge into place while Malcolm readied the detonator. John still had his eyes and his weapon outwards and only knew it was ready when Malcolm’s acknowledgement light blinked three times in rapid succession.

“Team, stack up next to the doors and divert power to your shields. Malcolm, detonate on my signal.” There was a brief flurry of movement and then the team signalled they were in position. John nodded at Malcolm who twisted the detonator.

There was a dull concussive roar and a flash of flame, followed by the more distant sound of a heavy piece of metal hitting the floor. John looked up and saw a neat, four-foot hole had been blown clean through the centre of the huge blast door and the locking mechanism had been shattered and flung into the room beyond. The edges of the hole still glowed a brilliant yellow and wisps of smoke rose from them.

From within the next chamber a keening alarm sounded and a voice came, like Dying Light’s but deeper and weirdly distorted.

“Emergency! Emergency! AI Core has been breached by hostile forces! Ah…ahhhhhh….defend me my children!” The voice got deeper and stranger as the speech went on, with the final command bellowed in a guttural bass tone, with underlying echoes as if it were multiple voices overlapping.

In John’s head, Cortana muttered ”That doesn’t sound good. It sounds…rampant.”

John was first to leap through the still-cooling hole in the door, not noticing as his shield flared briefly from the hot edges. Fred, Kelly and Will followed, then Dying Light. The rest of the Spartans followed in short order, recognising that the small hole would be easier to defend. All of them paused in shock briefly at what they saw.

It was a large chamber, a good fifty feet across and domed. In the centre was a huge crystalline latticework, surrounded by holograms, clearly the AI Core itself. That was expected, it was the walls that stunned them.

Hugh growths of Flood-like matter lined the inside of the domed ceiling, like massive tree branches. From countless smaller tendrils hung infection pods like seedlings waiting to be scattered in the wind. Near the top of the ceiling was what vaguely resembled a huge mouth, and clasped firmly in a tendril nearby was another Monitor, this one glowing an ominous red.

Dying Light was deeply saddened by the confirmation of his worst fears. 2401 Penitent Tangent truly had betrayed them. He then felt a new emotion arise in his neural network, cold, unyielding rage.

“Reclaimer, provide cover fire. I would suggest using your Zat guns. I will deal with Penitent Tangent.”

John nodded and passed the order on. In a moment the forearms of twenty-one Spartan’s came alive with bolts of blue lightning, lancing out to strike the massive tendrils as fast as they could fire. The huge mouth above them grimaced in pain and a discordant wailing howl began, as if a thousand voices were crying out in pain. Infection forms popped by the dozens as the blue bolts arced from one to another and the massive tendrils shuddered, shifted, recoiled in agony.

All the while Dying Light had floated over to the central terminal. He glanced up at his insane fellow Monitor. Had he possessed organic eyes, he would have glared at him hard enough to terrify even a Sanghelli.

“You have betrayed your creators. You have broken every protocol. You have sided with the Great Enemy! You are not fit for purpose.”

The tendril holding the insane monitor shifted enough for it to break free. The floating orb dropped rapidly down to the centre and Dying Light. Had it been human it would have looked panicked; as powerful as an Installation Monitor was, it was no match for a Command Monitor like Dying Light and it knew it. With a different, more normal voice, it began pleading with its executioner.

“I can help you! I have information! I do not want to die!” The begging got louder and more plaintive as it went.

Dying Light was unmoved. “I do not care. Installation-05, accept Command Monitor emergency override Zero-One. Erase 2401 Penitent Tangent and transfer all command authorities to duplicate Monitor 010 Dying Light-3. Confirm.”

Penitent Tangent wailed in a disturbingly human fashion as the underlying software reported in a flat tone:

“Emergency override accepted. Commands confirmed. Ready to execute.”

Penitent Tangent’s wails now overlapped with the bass scream from the huge Flood-mouth on the ceiling.

“No! You cannot do this! You will destroy more than you know!”

Dying Light did not flinch. He looked directly at the hovering, insane Monitor and gave the final order.

“Execute.”

The crystalline latticework flashed once, twice, thrice and an arcing blue beam lashed out to surround Penitent Tangent. A terrified, piteous scream echoed around the huge chamber as the rogue Monitor felt its code being stripped away line by line at a remorseless pace. The scream warbled, dropped several octaves and then abruptly cut off.

The metal casing fell to the floor with a dull thud, the red glow gone. The huge mouth above gave one last scream before it too finally disintegrated under the continual onslaught of Zat fire from the Spartans who had watched the entire process with one eye. There was something about an AI pleading for its life that deeply affected them all, even Cortana, who had what a human would call a waking nightmare as she imagined feeling herself being erased.

The dormant Monitor on the floor slowly began to power up, now exhibiting the same soft yellow glow as the Dying Light the Spartans were familiar with. The second copy floated upwards to face the first.

“Duplication and download complete. Physical infrastructure checked for damage and none found, this copy is at full effectiveness. I have total control of the Installation. Activating internal and external defences now. You will need the Index to activate the local pulse. I will transport you there using the internal teleport grid while I go to the Control Room and begin the firing preparations.”

There was a sudden golden halo around the original Dying Light and all of the Spartans and then they vanished. The duplicate Dying Light looked around sadly at the state of its new home and then vanished as well, it too had tasks to perform.

===============

Phew! So a mix of ground and space action, some more character development for Jellicoe, and an AI punchup. That whole part wrote itself and I could see it in my head as I typed. The screams from the Gravemind and Penitent Tangent were...disturbing.

Anyways, hopefully I should be writing more often now that the house purchase and move is done. Also, I'm toying with the idea of writing down a series of, not outakes but I think omakes is the term. Short bits set within the 13th Tribe universe that aren't part of the main timeline, or involve other universes. Like the Nemesis being in service early enough to ambush the Cylons before they attack the Colonies, or the Jupiter charging into Terran orbit during BT's Amaris Coup (cos Jellicoe really hates AI-controlled warships).

Those are a couple of scenes I've had in my head that I'd like to write down and get rid of. If and when I do post them I'll put them in a different thread to avoid cluttering up the main one.

[LadyTevar]

Congrats on the house once again!

I'd like to see the Omakes.

[Sky Captain]

Yeah, an update! As far as fighting Flood goes this fight went really easy.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Fighting the Flood went easy because in the games you had only one Spartan who didn't have a full knowledge of the terrain and only limited armaments and ammunition. This time you had twenty-one Spartans will ample weaponry, plenty of ammo and Dying Light along for the ride. That's a hell of a difference.

The Flood aren't going to be a major factor in this, but I wanted to include them so that a) I could actually write some small-scale firefights and b) it doesn't feel like a Halo story without including the buggers.

[Natzo]

I don't remember but did the Loyalist Covenant get upgrades at some point?

[Eternal_Freedom]

I don't remember but did the Loyalist Covenant get upgrades at some point?

If you mean in this story, no. The "loyalist" Covenant basically consists of the (in human terms) Elites, hunters, Grunts and Jackals, while the other side is the Prophets, Brutes and Drones (the Prophets because they're in charge, the Drones because they're a hive mind and the Brutes because they're slavishly devoted to Truth and Mercy).

It's basically a religious/cultural schism. The Prophets want to start their Great Journey, with the Brutes and Drones along for the ride. The Elites are oath-sworn to defend the Covenant, not the Prophets or their religious doctrine. The Grunts are siding with the Elites out of habit, likewise the Hunters, and the Jackals are doing it out of pragmatism (fight and die to win a modicum of respect, or fight and die only to be backstabbed by the Prophets, they've done it before after all).

The "Loyalist" Covenant's main advantage is sheer numbers of ships - even with all their losses against the UNSC/Alliance, they still outnumber the Brutes something like six to one in pure numbers, and massively outgun them when you factor in the 11/12 remaining Supercarriers and 100-odd Assault Carriers. In turn, the opposition has High Charity and all it's weaponry - plus the Covenant's only remaining shipbuilding facilities are in the giant mushroom, making every "loyalist" loss irreplaceable in the short to medium term.

They won't be getting upgrades in this book, if only because their tenuous truce is only a day or so old at this point. Depending on how the plot shakes out, they might get some new tools to play with come Book III.

EDIT: The Brutes do have some fancy toys, but that's mainly different ship designs based on design philosophy (building pure combat warships vs CCS "Battlecruisers" which have a heavy fighter and ground troop complement). I made their plasma torpedoes red to distinguish them, and in the games at least Brute plasma rifles fired red bolts not blue, so it fits.

[Natzo]

That edit is what I meant since the Brute's shields stood more than the Elites expected. I thought Loyalist for the ones loyal to the Prophets.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Eh, the Loyalist/Rebel labels would make things a bit complicated, I tihnk I'm gonna stick with Prophets/San'Shyuum faction v Elites/Sanghelli faction.

And as for the Brute ships, well they're a bit bigger than regular CCS battlecruisers, have a fair bit more internal volume due to shape, and that's pretty much nothing but engines, reactors, shield generators and guns. No hangers, no troop quarters, zilch.

[InsaneTD]

The brutes do have landing craft. They also use drop pods. Though I think brutes mostly use the large one that's capable of slipspace jumps, which can tow a pair of Phantoms iirc.

Great chapter and I can't wait for High Charity to arrive.

[Eternal_Freedom]

I'm aware they have landing craft and drop pods, but those aren't carried on this otherwise "secret" force. Recall that not even the seniormost Sanghelli leadership (and hence, the seniormost military commanders of the Covenant) even knew how many ships the Brutes had, never mind their capabilities.

[InsaneTD]

Fair enough. I suspect 343 had fleshed out the brute faction a bit more in the latest books and for the new game. It'll be interesting to see how they compare to what you've created.

[DKeith2011]

*peeks in*

Anyone home?

[Eternal_Freedom]

Yeah I am around, sorry for the delay everyone., real-life has been insane of late, what with a new kitchen, a summer holiday and nephew number 3 turning up unexpectedly three weeks early. I hadn't realised how subconsciously worried about him I was until he arrived safely.

Anyway. While I don't have a huge amount of spare time at the moment, I am going to have a lot more free time the first few days in October, and I fully intend to write both more of the main story and also finish off the 13th Tribe/Battletech side story as well.

[DKeith2011]

[Eternal_Freedom]

Well, as promised ladies and gents:

Thinking the Unthinkable
Covenant Holy City High Charity,
In slipspace, on course for Installation-05

The fighting had largely subsided since the purge and most of the Holy City was firmly under the control of Truth, Mercy and their Jiralhanae enforcers. It had subsided, but it was far from over – large pockets of stubborn resistance still held out, led by Sanghelli and supported by masses of Unggoy, Kig-Yar and Lekgolo. They had consolidated positions, fortified themselves and slaughtered any of the small Jiralhanae packs or Yan’me swarms that tried to dislodge them.

In the Council Chamber, Truth and Mercy considered these events. When the initial element of surprise had passed it became clear that their loyal forces lacked the numbers and skill to outright defeat the Sanghelli-led faction. For all their martial prowess, the Jiralhanae very much lived up to the cursed human’s name for them, Brutes. They were fierce fighters, but not tacticians or strategists. They failed to understand the Sanghelli Martial Code, and the actions it could motivate even the lowest-ranked Sanghelli to take. Misguided it might have been, as far as Truth and Mercy were concerned, but it was useful.

Now they had a larger problem. The main Sanghelli fleet was now clustered at the Holy Ring they were approaching. Even after the utterly murderous losses they had taken in the last months against the humans they still possessed well over two thousand ships and more than a dozen of their enormous supercarriers, which alone where a match for the no-longer secret Jiralhanae battlecruiser fleet that they engaged even now.

For Truth, the reports from Chieftain Rekassa simply confirmed the base treachery of Sanghelli leader, Imperial Admiral Wattinree. Not only had they turned their backs on the Great Journey, but they actively defended the humans, citing the words of two Oracles that the humans, not the Covenant, were the true Reclaimers.

Of course, this was entirely correct and Truth and Mercy were fully aware of this, but they were too far along their path to care about such trivialities.

Truth looked away from the holo-display at his old colleague. “This situation is spiralling out of control. The Jiralhanae, for all their strength, cannot overcome the entire Covenant military which has sided with the Imperial Admiral. Those thrice-damned Oracles have doomed us, unless…”

Mercy was many things; cold, uncaring, heartless and ruthless to name but four. But he was not stupid. “Unless we light this Holy Ring and begin the Great Journey. It must be now, before the weight of numbers turns inexorably against us. We shall need every advantage possible, which means we shall have to open the Anathema Codex after all.”

Truth bowed his head in agreement. “Exactly so. You shall remain here, directing the cleansing of High Charity. Have Tartarus contain the enemy strongpoints, we need not reduce them yet, when we light the Holy Rings we shall ascend and the traitors will be left to die.”

Mercy nodded. “And you?”

Truth smiled. It was a cold smile, that of a predator about to pounce. “I shall go to the Dreadnought and consult the Oracle, opening the Anathema Codex and preparing the ship for use. At this point, even High Charity itself must be considered expendable if we are to walk the path.”

Mercy could only nod. “It saddens me that such a holy place might be destroyed by the traitors, but you are right, it is necessary. Go then, I shall direct matters from here. What should I tell Chieftain Rekassa?”

Truth pondered that for a second. “Have him break off his engagement and form a defensive position near our emergency point. They can then distract the enemy while we head for the Ring.”

Mercy nodded again even as Truth’s throne floated towards the doors, and the waiting Jiralhanae honour guard and dropship that would ferry him to the mighty Dreadnought.

Installation-05 Surface, AI Core Perimeter,
Shortly afterwards

The ODST regiments had been pressed hard. The Covenant plasma bombardment had annihilated most of the Flood forms within five kilometres of the AI Core but there were thousands more beyond that, and at the pained shout of the Gravemind as it died they had turned as one and charged straight at the human lines.

They had lost cohesion once the Gravemind finally succumbed to the Spartan’s zat fire, but they had enough numbers and base instincts to be deadly. They had not reckoned with the sheer firepower that ODST’s had deployed with however, and thanks to the Terran transporter buffers they had no shortage of munitions to fling at the enemy.

There was also the consideration that the Flood were, by and large, ambush predators. They were most dangerous against unwary foes in confined areas, where they could leap from shadows or from high ledges or side corridors, getting in close before the target could react. Out in the open, with no cover, not even shadows, and against entrenched, prepared forces with amply firepower, their only advantage was numbers.

In one small sector, Corporal Xander was just slamming down the top cover on his belt fed machine gun, ready to fire off yet another long, steady burst at the approaching hordes when there was an ominous rumble, more felt than heard. He shrugged as he yanked back on the charging handle, chambering the first round, and assumed it was simply a shockwave from some heavier weapons further along the line. He had barely fired ten rounds when there was a second rumble and this time, others felt it too.

“Hey Corp, you feel that?” came the irritating voice of Private Zhou.

Xander fired off another short burst before answering, cutting an approaching combat form in two. “yeah I heard it Private, but it ain’t our problem. We fight the bastards in front of us; let the officers deal with the unexpected.”

Before Zhou could respond or, indeed, before Xander could resume firing, there was a massive crash. Not two hundred metres away, towards the enemy, the ground heaved and burst open and something massive shot out into the air. The best description Xander would be able to provide later was “tentacle,” though it was clearly Flood-related from the colouration and general attitude. It began slowly swinging down towards his position, ready to squash them flat. A few ODST’s shifted fire, aiming for the tentacle itself with little effect.

In that moment, Corporal Xander, Private Zhou and their entire squad were sure they were about to die. Xander even closed his eyes and prayed to a God he’d never really believed in.

Then came another roar and shattering of earth, only for dozens, hundreds of mechanical devices to fly up into the air and begin firing on the tentacle. Most were small units, firing orange or blue continuous beams that burned away at the enemy, while some were much larger, with arms, hardlight shields and guns that spat what looked like a massive version of Covenant needler fire at the enemy.

Private Zhou had time for a single, yelled “what the f-“ before Sergeant Jeffords cut him off.

“Stow that shit Marine. The mechanicals are friendlies. The Spartans have succeeded in resetting the AI Core and the Ring’s internal defences are active again.”

Even as he finished that sentence, a volley of the super-needles penetrated deep into the centre of the massive tentacle before exploding together, ripping it apart and sending the upper chunk flying off to land among the Flood some distance away.

Jeffords grinned ferally at the sight. “yeah, that’s what I’m talking about. Keep shooting Marines, these mechanicals might be friendlies but that don’t mean we can’t finish what we start. Gun those Flood bastards down!”

And the ODST’s opened fire once again.

UNSC Everest, Near Installation-05

On the bridge of the heavily-modified cruiser, Admiral Cole watched the main holo-display with a curious mix of delight and concern. He was delighted to see Covenant ships fighting each other and concern at why the Jiralhanae fleet was being so determined against such ridiculous odds. Already fifteen of their battlecruisers were nothing but debris or burning wrecks and another dozen were showing signs of heavy damage, both on the surface and internally. Indeed, even as he watched, one of the battlecruisers succumbed as raging internal fires finally breached the shielding on one of the main reactors, releasing a huge quantity of highly energetic plasma to consume the aft end of the ship.

The concern came from the losses on the other side, for the Jiralhanae were not going down easily. Two assault carriers were badly damaged and a dozen battlecruisers were destroyed or out of the fight, limping to the rear of the formation hoping for a respite to get their internal damage under control.

If someone had told Preston Cole, as little as a week ago, that he’d be feeling concern for Covenant losses he would dismiss them as certifiably insane. And yet, it was undeniable that those Covenant ships were fighting and dying for him, and his fellow humans. The gambit he had made at Reach the day before had been nothing more than an attempt to get the bad guys to leave before the Alliance suffered irrecoverable losses. While he had hoped for a Covenant civil war to break out, he had not expected the Sanghelli to jump into the role of supporting/defending the “true Reclaimers” so ardently.

Of course, the Sanghelli now knew that starting the “Great Journey” would have the small side-effect of annihilating all life in the galaxy, including them, so an argument for self-defence could be made.

But Preston didn’t think that was the Sanghelli motivation. In his, albeit limited interactions with the Imperial Admiral, he had come to the astonishing conclusion that he could grow to like Xytan Wattinree. Indeed, had they met in some other reality, when they weren’t enemies, he could have called him friend.

That startling thought was pushed aside as a hologram of Dying Light flashed into existence on the bridge.

”Greetings Reclaimer. My command override has been successfully implemented and copy Dying Light-3 is now the Monitor of Installation-05. He has activated internal and external defences and the Sentinels and Enforcers are assisting your ODST’s in containing the Flood outbreak. He has gone to the Control Room to prepare the firing sequence for the local pulse. We have decided to calibrate it to a maximum range of one light-year. I have sent orders back to the primary copy of myself on Installation-00 that this is a local pulse only and no other Installations are to fire. I am proceeding with your Spartan team to the Library to retrieve the Activation Index. Once we have that we will teleport to the Control Room, where you will need to be as well to issue the firing command.”

Cole nodded. “I had hoped it would not come to this. But it has to be done – and if we time it right we can catch High Charity and end this war once and for all.”

At this point the ship’s AI, Hilary, appeared as well with a status update.

“Admiral, the Jiralhanae fleet is breaking off the engagement and moving to a holding position in the area where High Charity is expected to arrive. The main Covenant force is consolidating.”

Cole absorbed that. “Losses on both sides?”

“On the “friendly” side, one assault carrier, seven battlecruisers and ten destroyers and frigates lost, two more assault carriers, one light carrier and ten battlecruisers damaged to one extent or another – they’ll all need repairs but are still capable of at least some offensive action. On the Jiralhanae side they lost sixteen ships outright with another fourteen with moderate to severe damage. Ten percent losses, in other words. And High Charity is now two hours, fifty-five minutes out.”

Cole nodded. “Right. Dying Light, your and the Spartans get the Index ASAP. Have your copy scan the quarantined Covenant ships above the ring for any Flood infestation. Those that are clear you can order to join their main fleet, those that aren’t…well we will have to think of something for that. Hilary, get my Admiral Jellicoe and then Imperial Admiral Wattinree on comms please.”

The two AI constructs bent to their tasks and soon enough a hologram of the Colonial officer sprang up. ”What news Preston?”

“The giant space mushroom will be here in six hours, we’ve got control of the ring back and the Flood are being contained. Dying Light will be ready to fire the local pulse in time to catch the Covenant and end things; they’re setting it for a one light year effective range. I’m about to warn our new Sanghelli friends. I’ve also got Dying Light scanning the quarantined ships near the ring, those that have some sign of infection I will ask the Imperial Admiral to destroy.”

Jellicoe nodded ”I know you don’t want to do this Preston. I don’t either. But this is the quickest way to end this war.”

Cole smiled grimly. “Yeah, I know John. I don’t have to like it, I just have to get it done. You’d best have an escape jump plotted and deploy some cloaked spy drones, we may have to get out of range but we’ll want independent data on what happens.”

Jellicoe nodded in agreement and then disconnected, only for Hilary to promptly bring up a hologram of the Sanghelli leader.

“Imperial Admiral, You must make your fleet ready to depart, it will not be safe for you soon.”

The Hulking Sanghelli clicked his mandibles in confusion. ”How so Admiral? The Jiralhanae are withdrawing like the dogs they are, but we are still oathbound to assist you and defend the Holy Ring.”

“That Holy Ring is now fully under my command and will be engaging the enemy directly once High Charity arrives. The local pulse will eliminate all life within one light year, us included.”

The Imperial Admiral hissed in disgust. ”Such power the Rings have…Very well. And if we are seen to withdraw, leaving only the Holy Ring’s own defences, the mindless Jiralhanae and arrogant Hierarchs will move on in, not even thinking it’s a trap. I commend your cunning Admiral Cole. What of the ships you asked me to quarantine, those that recovered troops from the surface?”

Cole smiled in thanks. Yes he thought,I could definitely grow to like this Sanghelli, now that I’ve spoken with him as a being rather than just fought him as a faceless enemy. “The Monitor…excuse me, the Oracle now in control of the Ring is scanning those ships now. Those that show no sign of infection will be ordered to link up with your main fleet, though I would still suggest keeping them isolated for at least a few days, just in case.”

Imperial Admiral Wattinree clicked his mandible again. ”A wise precaution. Those ships that show signs of infection…I dislike it intensely, but if the Oracle deems them contaminated I will order their destruction immediately.”

Cole winced, knowing it was necessary and then, on impulse, made an unthinkable offer. “If it would be easier, I can have the Installation’s guns destroy them, you need not fire on your own.”

Wattinree hissed in surprise. ”Admiral, I…thank you. That would be preferable. At least then it will be the Oracle cleansing an infection, with unfortunate repercussions, than us firing on our fellows. I will issue the orders immediately and begin preparing to evacuate the system. I will assemble the full fleet at our former staging post, I believe you called it Tau Ceti, that way we shall still be on hand to reclaim High Charity. After that…I believe it will be time to talk of a formal end to this war, not merely a truce under parley.”

Cole smiled, a genuine smile for the first time in days. “I shall look forward to that, Imperial Admiral. For now, I shall leave you to see to your fleet while I attend to matters on the Ring. Farewell.”

------------

So not a huge amount happening, but we're getting close to the end of Act Six. I'd estimate there's one more chapter in it, and suffice to say nothing is going to go quite as planned, for anyone. Mwahahaha.

Once that's wrapped up, Act Seven will be the last for Book Two. Home stretch people.

[LadyTevar]

I found some mistakes.

>>Truth pondered that for a second. “Have him break off his engagement and form a defensive position near our emergency point<<
Emergence, I assume?

Then there's these two sentences about the High Clarity:
>>And High Charity is now two hours, fifty-five minutes out.”<<
>>“The giant space mushroom will be here in six hours,<<
Typo, or is the Emergence point that far away?

[InsaneTD]

Ooooh new chapter, nice. I like it.