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Battle for the Norah: Prologue
Date: 11 May 2003, 1:35 PM

Battle for the Norah: Prologue

      In the year 2525, mankind had evolved to an age of space travel and had explored the vast recesses of space, colonizing every habitable planet that they came across. On November 2nd, contact with an alien race was made. A large colossal object had wiped out a small human colony known as Harvest. When a United Nations Space Command scout vehicle and battle group was sent towards the Harvest system, the object wiped them out except for one destroyer which was part of the battle group. As the object left the system, the commanders of the "ship" sent a bursted transmission to the wounded UNSC destroyer. "Your destruction is the will of the gods, and we are their instrument."

      For the next 27 years, the human race began fighting a losing war against an alien race they called "The Covenant." A large collection of alien species, the Covenant's religious leaders believed humans would bring the downfall of the universe and felt the need to wipe them out. After Harvest, dozens of other human colony worlds became floating dead planets as the Covenant Armada moved quickly. Naturally, the humans fought back, but their various space vessels were no match for the awesome power of the Covenant war vessels. The only comfort the humans had was the military planet known as Reach, which harbored a deadly secret. Here, a large handful of human candidates were being trained to take out the Covenant for good.

      They were called Spartans, but the UNSC called them "super-soldiers." Their main purpose was to wipe out the Covenant threat. First used in 2552, in the destruction of a Covenant destroyer, the Spartans immediately began bringing back the glory to the human race. There was only one flaw. The Spartans couldn't save the colony worlds they fought to protect. Spartans were trained to fight on the ground and not in space, which was where the UNSC was weak. The Covenant merely wiped out the ships in orbit, then used their plasma weapons to take out the planet itself. There was nothing to Spartans could do about that.

      It was on August 30th, 2552 when the Spartans knew that something had to be done about their flaw. The Covenant had found the military planet Reach, where the Spartans had first been trained. A fleet of over 150 human ships formed a defensive wall and the 20 gun platforms orbiting the planet, formed in a diamond shape, preparing to wipe out any vessel headed towards the planet. However, the small human fleet and limited gun platforms was no match for over 300 Covenant ships, which came into the system and wiped out the planet, including all of its defenses.

      During that battle, the majority of the Spartan forces had been on Reach and when the blasts from the Covenant ships came down upon the planet, there was nothing the Spartans could do. A lone Spartan, the leader, known as Master Chief was the only surviving Spartan of that battle. He and the crew of the old human cruiser Pillar of Autumn were able to leave the system. The Master Chief still had a mission to complete. Wipe out the Covenant.

      When exiting their random Slipstream jump, the PoA came across a large floating ring in space, which the Covenant called "Halo." It was here on Halo, were the Master Chief would make a stand. The crew of the PoA crashed onto this ring and began their guerilla war against the small Covenant armada that had followed them. With limited resources, the humans were able to fight off the Covenant for awhile, until they accidentally released the secret of Halo.

      A new race, simply called "The Flood" had been hiding in Halo and was set loose upon the humans and Covenant by the humans. Immediately, the Flood went to work, looking for "food." Vastly outnumbered, the Master Chief was able to find the PoA and detonate its fusion core, which then destroyed Halo. It was assumed that everything was wiped out.

      However, not everything was destroyed. A single piece of Halo, which harbored the actual environmental systems of the ring world had survived the nuclear blast and was thrown into the recesses of space. On this single piece of the ring world, the remaining marine forces, Covenant forces and Flood army finished the battle of Halo. The only means of escape from this nightmare is a Flood controlled-Covenant cruiser known as the Norah, This cruiser had been knocked out by the nuclear blast of the PoA and all the crew aboard were killed by the Flood, who then took it over once they had found it.

      This story tells the tale of how these warrior races continued fighting on Halo and were able to get off. Who wins? Who losses? Who reaches their home? Find out. (Coming soon, Battle of Norah: Part 1)

By: Agent Shade

**Hey folks, I'm the author (no shit) and I'm here to clear up any confusion. I've always had an idea about a piece of Halo that survived the blast and still had the Earth environment that allowed humanoids to survive on it. This cruiser known as the Norah is the only way of getting off Halo and the humans, Covenant and Flood fight over control of it. I hope that you enjoy this part of the story and please tell me if you see any problems, which I will do my best to clear up. Cheers**

Battle for the Norah: Part 1
Date: 12 May 2003, 6:49 PM

Battle for the Norah: Part 1

      "Fancy a look?" the AI construct named Cortanna said to John, who sat in the Longsword's command chair. Reluctantly, the Spartan stood and walked to the window that ran along the cockpit of the attack vessel. He watched horrified as a chunk of Halo blew apart from the rest of it and went spinning out of control into the other side of Halo. Slowly, the big ring world began to fall apart in space, each chunk of it exploding with a large force. John lowered his head.
      "Did anyone else make it?" he asked.
      "Scanning" Cortanna said. It took her a whole two seconds to come up with her answer.
      "Just dust and echoes...we're all that's left" she said.
      As the Longsword fighter glided out of the system on the propulsion from its take off, Halo continued to break apart. The large chunks burned up in the atmosphere of the nearby gas giant, while others headed towards the large sun that shone light into the system. Near the edge of the uncharted area, where no light from this sun could reach, a small object moved quickly, spinning out of control. As if aided by an invisible planet's orbit, the piece of wreckage slowly stabilized itself and continued to drift out of the system and into the next. Light penetrated the emptiness of the space that surrounded this piece of garbage and revealed what it truly was.
      A somewhat large piece of Halo, which had been blasted away from the ring world itself, floated continuously towards the galaxies not yet explored by the humans or Covenant. The surface of it was similar to that of the Halo it came from. Lush vegetation dotted the large hills, and various signal outposts sat upon some of these hills, inoperable. The surface of this piece of Halo was a box canyon, which was filled with large, rolling hills and the odd tree and rock cluster. A system of rivers also flowed towards the ocean that was no longer there. The oddest thing that gave this canyon suspicion was the large Covenant cruiser that lay upon three large hills, completely offline.
      The cruiser was called the Norah, and had been in the area to pick up a large team of Covenant forces, who were fighting off the Flood. However, when the Pillar of Autumn's engines ignited and the nuclear shock wave spread across Halo, it knocked out the systems of Norah, and the ship plummeted to the ground, crushing a large majority of the Covenant forces waiting to get off Halo. Those few crew members that survived the crash were then killed by the Flood, who boarded the ship immediately after it, fell. The remaining Covenant forces then retreated, firing wildly at the reinforced Flood. Luckily for them, the Flood did not pursue. Unknown to both of those races, the main contingent of Marine forces had been stationed on the other side of the box canyon and had taken refuge inside a large cave. This is the story of the Battle for the Norah.

      Staff Sergeant Jacob Strom kept his eyes closed, even though the heat of the bright light which had blinded them was gone. He knew he wasn't dead, since he could feel his entire body tingling. Finally, after a few seconds of him moving a few limbs around, he opened his eyes. At first, all he saw was dirt, but then he raised his head and could see the large outline of the cave he was in. He looked around him and could see his fellow marines all slowly coming conscious. Jacob sat up, rubbing his head which was still throbbing with pain. He tried to remember what had happened, but couldn't. His mind just kept replaying back a large bright light.
      Shrugging his shoulders, he stood, stumbled a little, and then regained his balance. The entire Marine division he had been with lay scattered all over the cave. He was quite happy that they were all alive and moving. He walked over to a few, trying to help them up, but they were all tough and were able to do it themselves. Jacob let them do what they wished, then went and found the CO.
      Lieutenant Commander Paul Cunningham was sitting along the cave wall, his head in his hands. He looked up as Jacob approached.
      "Jesus Christ Strom, what happened?" he asked, looking bewildered. Jacob shook his head.
      "I have no idea sir, but we gotta get out of here. This cave offers no protection from possible attack" he said. Jacob felt that he was always alert and ready for battle and he was right. The cave had no individual boulders inside, which meant no cover. A well placed grenade or rocket would finish them all off. The Lieutenant smiled.
      "You're right, let's get these men moving. We need to establish a base of operations" he said, standing and straightening his combat uniform. Jacob turned to look at the men, who all seemed to be recovering nicely.
      "C'mon ladies, get your asses up. Find whatever weapons you can carry and prepare to move out, this ain't no ice cream social" Jacob barked. The men didn't question him and went about, looking for their weapons. Jacob found his. He was a sniper and a damn good one too. He grabbed his SRS99C-S2AM sniper rifle, and picked up a random pistol, slapping in a fresh magazine. The marines salvaged everything, and then awaited new orders. The Lieutenant was standing near the cave entrance. Jacob walked over to him
      "Where the hell did we leave our vehicles?" Paul asked, turned to look at the Sergeant. Jacob suddenly remembered. They had four M12 LRVs (Warthogs) and two M808B Scorpion MBT tanks parked and camouflaged in a cluster of trees and boulders. Jacob raised his sniper rifle and looked through the Oracle scope. He carefully scanned a small canyon made out of two large hills and spotted them.
      "I see them sir. They're about a few clicks away...looks like the men we left with them are alive as well" he said, watching a few marines stand out in the open to look around. The Lieutenant nodded, and then turned.
      "All right, let's get our sorry asses out of this cave. Follow me and the Sergeant to that cluster of trees and rocks" he ordered. Immediately afterwards, Jacob and the Lieutenant began jogging towards their vehicles. As a precaution, Jacob had his rifle up, in case they ran into trouble. Luckily, they didn't and slowed down to a walk as they approached the tree and rock cluster. The marines they left with the vehicles walked towards them too. First Sergeant Andrew Barnes saluted quickly, and then grinned.
      "Thank god you guys are still alive Lieutenant. We thought we were the only ones that survived" he said.
      "Any idea what that explosion was Sergeant?" inquired the Lieutenant. Barnes nodded.
      "Yes sir, it was the Pillar of Autumn sir. The Master Chief went and blew up the engines on that bird. The resulting explosion wiped out everything" he said. Jacob raised an eyebrow.
      "Wiped out everything? We are still alive, and this sure as hell looks and feels like we are still on Halo" he said. The Lieutenant looked up and his mouth dropped into a frown.
      "That planet which Halo orbited is gone. Look, there's nothing near us, nothing bur stars" he said. This caused everyone to look up. The Lieutenant was right. There were no planets nearby or asteroids, there was nothing. Only fast moving stars that crossed their vision. Paul finally lowered his head.
      "We will figure out what happened later, right now, we need a command post. Jacob, post yourself on top of this hill here, look for a possible HQ, we will refit the vehicles" the Lieutenant ordered, gesturing to the hill near them and the tree cluster. Jacob nodded and ran up the steep slope. He reached the top within seconds, and crouched low, looking into his scope. He started from the east and scanned westwards.
      At first, he saw nothing but rolling hills and a few of the signal outposts which had blasted lances of energy into the sky. Obviously, they weren't working. As Jacob continued to scan, he suddenly noticed a large outline of some sort, near the other side of the canyon. He zoomed in to 10x and his mouth dropped. A Covenant cruiser lay against the cliff wall of the canyon, supported by three huge hills. It looked like it was still in good condition, but it was completely offline.
      "What are the odds of that happening?" he asked himself. He suddenly saw some sort of movement and activated the night vision on the scope. What he saw made his entire body freeze. Two Flood combat forms stood on one of the hills near the ship, looking up at the cruiser. They looked like infected Covenant Elites, and were holding plasma rifles. Suddenly, another Flood form joined them. The three grotesques looked at each other for several seconds, and then ran down the hill. Jacob swore. As he looked for more hostiles, Sergeant Barnes joined him.
      "Any luck there Jake?" he asked. Jacob didn't answer. Instead, he watched a handful of Flood forms post themselves on the same hill and start firing their weapons at something. Jacob stood to see what they were firing at and froze again.
      A handful of Covenant troops were moving along the base of the hill, firing their weapons at the Flood. There was a huge battle taking place there.
      "Must be the crew" he whispered to himself. Barnes looked at him.
      "What?" he asked. Jacob gave him his rifle and pointed.
      "Look near that large outline at the other side of the canyon." Barnes did as Jacob told him. After a few seconds of him fiddling with the rifle, he froze, his mouth dropped open, and the cigar in his mouth dropped to the ground.
      "Good god" he said, then handed the rifle back. The two of them looked at each other, and then slide back down the hill to the Lieutenant, who was trying to piece together a map that his marines had worked on. Paul turned to look at them.
      "Anything?" he asked. Barnes motioned for Jacob to explain. Strom took in a deep breath.
      "Sir, there is a Covenant cruiser that seems to have crash landed near the other side of this box canyon. It seems to be offline at the moment, but it isn't empty" he began. The Lieutenant put the map down and faced the Sergeant.
      "Go on" he said.
      "At closer observation, there are Flood and Covenant troops all over that area, fighting" he said. At that moment, all conversations surrounding them stopped. Everyone looked at Jacob and the Lieutenant. Paul merely stared at Jacob, before turned to look in the direction of the cruiser. He couldn't see it naturally, but knew it was there.
      "Fuck" he said out loud. He took a few more seconds to sort of let out his anger, which was him merely kicking the dirt and saying a few insults to the Flood and Covenant. He finally, turned to look at the Sergeant again.
      "All right, but did you find a possible HQ?" he asked, hoping that he did. Jacob did not disappoint him.
      "Yes sir. Due west of our position is an installation that seems to be built into the wall of the canyon. There is a large entrance, and above it, looks like some sort of control tower" he said. This made the Lieutenant happy. He immediately jumped into the side seat of the nearest Warthog and looked at his men.
      "Saddle up men. If there isn't room in a vehicle, run after us. Sergeant Strom, drive this 'Hog to our new HQ" he said. There was a small cheer of approval from the men, as they moved to get into the vehicles. Strom jumped into the drivers' seat and turned the key of the jeep. The engine started and various readouts scrolled across the data screens. Good, he thought these things are loaded on fuel. Once he made sure everyone was ready, he revved the engine and sped off.....
By: Agent Shade (Battle of the Norah: Part 2, coming soon)

Battle for the Norah: Part Two
Date: 17 June 2003, 6:02 PM

      The 'Hog's engine roared and her tires squealed.
Jacob Strom frowned; he had misjudged the distance to the new HQ.
      "Sorry, sir," he said to Lieutenant Commander Paul Cunningham. "It looks like it could be another ten to fifteen minutes before we reach it. Those tanks are slowing us down."
      "Crap," was Cunningham's only response. He knew that, in order to get off of this forsaken rock, they'd have to capture that Cruiser, maybe with a few Covenant on board ASAP. If they didn't, the flood could get almost impossible to kill.

      Andrew Barnes stuck his head above the little balcony that proceeded from the instillation...and almost smashed his nose into an Elite's foot.
      "CRAP! There are Covenant in here!" he yelled as the Elite roared in surprise; Barnes brought his MA5B Assault Rifle up and pulled the trigger.
      Bullets smashed into the Elite's shield and knocked him back as the shield began to overload.
      Andrew held down the trigger for full auto fire.
      The Elite's shield failed and bullets tore through him, sending its sickeningly colored blood splattering onto the wall.
      Barnes pulled himself up and over the balcony's edge and spotted a pair of Jackals, so he opened up on them too.
      They didn't have their energy shields up, so their fragile bodies were torn apart by the hail of bullets.
      Just then, a Gold Elite charged out of the shadows and raised his sword, fixing to kill Barnes by decapitation...and fell as a Sniper Rifle Bullet tore through his shields and sent his brain flying into the already messy wall.
      There were no more enemies left.
      Andrew turned around to look outside and saw Jacob Strom waving at him.
      Barnes shook his head. He had never trusted Snipers...then he saw what the Covenant had been guarding.
      His eyes opened in surprise.
      There were twenty Humans there and they all wore the uniform of UNSC navy personnel.
      "What took you guys so long?" one of them asked as he stood up. He wore the rank insignia of a lieutenant and had regulation cut brown hair.
      "We've been under lock and key in this little cavern ever since that Cruiser fell outta the sky.
      "Sorry, the Pillar of Autumn blew. It kind of put a kink in our escape plan...that and the Flood," he replied irritably.
      "The Flood?" the Navy guy answered blankly.
      "Yes, the Flood," Barnes said, more than a little annoyed. "The thing is, they take over your body, turn you into a grotesquely mutated form, and then force you to fight for them against both the Humans and the Covenant"
      The navy guy laughed.
      "Yeah, whatever," the Navy guy said. "You can quit joking around now."
      "Just what makes you think I'm joking?" Barnes replied, his tone cold and icy.
      The Navy guy's smile wilted.
      "What exactly did the Covenant want you for?" Barnes asked.
      "To pilot that thing," the Navy guy replied.
      "Sorry," he said, "I guess I didn't introduce myself. The name's Pierce. Hudson Pierce. I'm a navigation officer."
      Barnes smiled. This was perfect. They had found somebody capable of piloting that thing.
      "Oh yeah, I've a piece of valuable cargo as well."
      "And that would be...what exactly?" Barnes asked, somewhat surprised.
      "This," Pierce said as he produced a small chip from his pocket.
      Barnes frowned.
      "What is that? A ration?"
       "No, it's not a ration," Pierce said knowingly.
      "It's the Autumn's backup AI that the Captain never had a chance to boot up. We don't know if it'll function or not, but it's a safe bet to say that it will."
      Barnes smiled. Cunningham was going to like this.

      Cunningham had liked it.
      Staff Sergeant Jacob Strom sat on the edge of the Scorpion and looked through his Sniper Rifle's Scope.
      The plan was to send their hogs up toward the Cruiser and draw the Flood out. And once the Flood were out, they would bombard them with the Scorpions. Wash, rinse and repeat as necessary.
      His rifle was Smart linked to the Scorpion's aiming system.
      "All right, McCarthy, a little lower....there, perfect" he said to the Scorpion's gunner.
      The aim was just inside the docking bay, where it was thought that most of the Flood would come from, seeing as how it was the fastest way out of the Cruiser.

      Barnes gunned the engine. Paul Cunningham was the gunner for the 'Hog as they wound their way towards the Cruiser's docking bay.
      Cunningham hefted a plasma grenade towards the docking bay, watched it bounce off of the single door and blow.
      It was as though somebody had turned on a faucet.
      Flood or every form-infection, combat, carrier-surged out of the various nooks and crannies like a mass wave of flesh.
      Barnes spun a 180 and slammed his foot on the pedal while Cunningham opened up with the LAAG, mainly focusing on the Combat Forms.
      Everyone else followed suit.
      The LAAGs roared and cut down rows and rows of Flood, but no matter how many they cut down, more appeared.
      Cunningham's eyes widened in terror as one Elite combat form leaped high into the air-to fast to retarget it with the LAAG-...and saw it shot out of the sky by a sniper bullet.

      Strom breathed deeply.
      If anything, that had been a lucky shot...

I hope you like this Shade!

Battle for Norah: Part Three
Date: 8 July 2003, 12:25 AM

      Cunningham held the LAAG's fire button down with such concentration that his knuckles turned white.
      Thousands of rounds tore through the Flood's ranks, but more kept coming.
       Of course, the Hogs weren't the only thing facing down the Flood.
      On a hill west of their position, two Scorpion Main Battle Tanks were bombarding and wiping out the Flood by the dozens-no, hundreds with their huge shells.

      Pierce Hudson's heart was hammering and his mouth was dry. He was also sweating profusely.
      He was nowhere near the fighting, but he could still vaguely see the orange flash and high crack of UNSC weapons, the slight whoosh, fraash and glow of Plasma Rifles and pistols, wielded by both Human and Flood.
      The fact that he was sitting directly under one of the Scorpion's main guns didn't help either.
      As a matter of fact, he had embarresingly soiled himself the first time it fired.
      He glanced down at the Autumn's backup AI chip.
      He had to guard that thing with his life...
      Then an idea struck him.
       He craned his neck to look at the driver's seat of the tank.
      He was looking for the diagnostic slot for a class "D" AI.
      The Autumn's backup AI was a class "A" and would therefore have no trouble interfacing or booting up on the Scorpion's systems.
      Once he found the slot, he inserted the AI into it.
      He didn't expect what was coming next.

      Inside the Scorpion, she awoke...and then leapt into action.

      The Scorpion's controls locked up.
      McCarthy, the Scorpion's gunner, wrestled with them for a moment, thinking something vaguely about how, if he couldn't get the dumb thing to work, they'd all be dead in a matter of seconds.
      The Scorpion then rumbled to life, pitching both Hudson and Jacob off of the treads.
      The Scorpion opposite it also came alive, and together, they charged down the hill, their cannons and machine guns firing.

      She bit her virtual lip; no matter what computation she ran, she'd be cutting it close.
      She commanded the Scorpions down the hillside, directly through the Floods' ranks, towards the shuttle bay.

      Barnes swung the Hog toward the right, narrowly missing a Carrier form.
      What he saw when he turned made running into the Carrier seem like a more viable option.

      A Warthog rambled towards the other tank; it was coming in to fast to turn, brake or have the Scorpion dodge it.
      She lowered the other tank's barrel...

      All Cunningham knew, was that he was screaming. Loudly.
      The Warthog's left, front wheels smacked into the barrel and began to power over it.
      The Hog went a good seven feet into the air before rolling.
       The Warthog began to barrel roll to its right while Cunningham plugged away with the chain gun, narrowly missing the Scorpion in the process.
      Cunningham and Barnes held on for dear life while the roll completed.       Miraculously, the Warthog landed right side up. Normally, a roll would have been seriously injurng and possibly fatal to all of the occupants. However, the seven foot height had given the Hog enough air to complete it.
      Cunningham immediately made a mental note to do three things: First, kill Barnes for his driving skill, promote whoever was driving and shooting that Scorpion, and finally, go to confession the first thing once they got back to the nearest UNSC base.

      The tanks continued to roar towards the Norah's docking bay, crushing hundreds of Flood under their treads.
      The Scorpion's fired their cannons one last time, twenty meters from the door of the docking bay.
      The shells blew just above the bay's door, collapsing it and stopping most of the Flood.

      With their main avenue of escape cut off, the Flood began to recede. Those that remained were easy pickings for the Hogs' LAAGs.

      Once all of the Flood were gone, Cunningham hopped out of the turret and stalked towards the Scorpions. He had a half mind to kill whoever was driving them, and another half to thank them for saving his life.
      Once he had reached it, he opened his mouth to yell, and froze when he saw a 2D representation of the Autumn's backup AI.
      It was a "she", and she was wearing a white tank top, green pants, with fiery red hair. She held an Assault Rifle in her arms.
      She was all business.
      "Lieutenant Commander Cunningham," she began. "AI Sami reporting for duty."

Battle for the Norah: Part Four
Date: 24 July 2003, 1:43 AM

      Lieutenant Commander Paul Cunningham worked his jaw up and down several times.
      Where the heck had she come from?
      It took a split second for him to regain his composure.
      "What were you thinking?! We almost had them!"
      "With all due respect, sir, you didn't. There were too many of them. You would've been overwhelmed had the battle gone on for thirty more seconds."
      Cunningham worked his jaw again.
      He knew that she was right. He was just racked emotionally. After all, who wouldn't be if you had had faced down thousands of Flood, a combat form blown up five feet away from you and finally, make a seven foot tall Warthog jump?
      "Fine, whatever. Just ask for permission next time," he said as he stormed off.
      Sami waited until he was out of hearing range then "turned" her two-dimensional "body" towards McCarthy, who was still in the Gunner's seat.
      "Is he always like that?" she asked him.
      "You really want to know?"

      Cunningham was hoping to high heaven that most of the Flood had been killed in the assault.
      He sat down on a rock to think and chewed his fingernails.
      They were poorly equipped to take the Cruiser. They had only a few weapons suited for the task- a pair of Shotguns, twelve Assault Rifles, a few Plasma Rifles, one Jackhammer Rocket Launcher...the other weapons were Sniper Rifles or weapons that had some sort of sniping function and were not the best for close-quarters.
      Cunningham cursed silently under his breath.
      And, as if that wasn't enough, the only way into that blasted ship was through the docking bay where the Flood had come from.
      "Crap."

      Down below in this particular piece of Halo, 343 Guilty Spark was not a happy camper.
      The reclaimer had destroyed Halo, which went against all protocol.
      And now, the only way to reach the other Halos was to board that Covenant ship, due to the fact that his anti-grav generators only worked in gravity, so he couldn't fly in spaces
      He had had teleported off of the Human ship just before the nuclear explosion to this section of Halo and took the remaining Human and Elite with him. They were now leaning against a wall, knocked out. Unfortunately, he didn't teleport fast enough to avoid the EMP blast, which had some of his systems wiped out and left him weakened.
      And as for the Flood problem...his programming was ridiculously strict on regarding that matter. He could not let the Flood get off of Halo...or at least what was left of it. And since Halo couldn't fire anymore, he was released from his programmed bonds; he could now rely on his inventiveness.
       However, the only choice was for him to ally himself with the Humans and get off of Halo. Normally, he'd just send his Sentinels in... but his Sentinel control center was destroyed with the rest of Halo and, even if he did have a control center here, their would be insufficient power for the Sentinels to run.
       He had, of course, known about this particular group of Humans. Their four landing craft had landed far further up-spin than the rest. Their radio gear had been knocked out during landing...or at least the transmitting part. They could still hear what other radio traffic there was, so if they had heard of him, he might be met with hostility.
      Oh, well, there wasn't any other choice.
      He locked on to the nearest Human life sign and teleported two feet in front of it, took the Sergeant and Elite with him, all the while muttering "Hee, hee, hee. I am a genius!"

      Cunningham saw a blinding flash of light, felt a heavy weight land on his back and was thrown face-forward under the weight.
      "Greetings!" Spark said no less than two feet in front of Cunningham's face.
      Cunningham struggled out from under the Elite and Sergeant, yelled a sentence that shouldn't be repeated in polite company and followed it immediately by saying, "Who the heck are you!?"
      "I am 343 Guilty Spark. I am a genius!"
      Cunningham just stared at him with a bewildered look on his face.
      "SAMI!" he roared who the heck is this!?
      Sami's voice crackled through his earpiece: "His name is 343 Guilty Spark. He almost slit our throats just under forty-eight hours ago.
      "And you know about this how?"
      "Each AI starts out its life in a standby mode. While Cortana was in Halo's systems, she located this group of Marines and sent me a burst of information, which I received and stored in my standby mode. That burst contained all of the information of the others' campaign here on Halo, including information about Spark," she said; her tone was cold, icy and filled with hatred.
      "And how did Spark here almost slit our throats?" Cunningham inquired.
      "He almost fooled the Master Chief into firing Halo, which, once the other Halos followed suit, would kill all of the life in the galaxy, Human and Covenant alike."
      "You cannot blame me for trying. It was hardwired into my code."
      "Oh, yes I can!"
      Cunningham wheeled around on his heel, brought his Assault Rifle to bear and emptied a full clip into Spark before he saw that he was having no effect.
      Spark rotated himself to the right as though he were confused.
      "Was that really necessary, Lieutenant Commander?" Spark said, his voice vexed.
      Cunningham hissed a sentence that amounted to "Darn straight, it was!" picked up the Sergeant and Elite, and huffed off back to the Scorpion.

Cunningham cursed all the way back. Once he reached the Scorpion, he hefted them both up onto the port fore tread pod.
      "Sami," he said. "How are they?"
      "Scanning," she said.
      "They're fine," she reported. "They should both wake up in a few minutes. No lasting after effects either."
      No sooner than Sami had finished saying "either", than Cunningham saw another blinding flash of light.
      "WILL YOU STOP THAT?!" he roared at the top of his lungs.
      "Really, Lieutenant Commander. You ought to be more gracious. I have some important information for you."
      "And that would be?" Cunningham growled.
      "The Flood are beginning to alter the atmosphere. If you will notice, the air is dirtier and the sky is taking on an orange hue."
      Cunningham had noticed it, and it made him a little nervous.
      "All right, you're got my attention...I'm listening."
      "You see, as the Flood grow and spread, they begin to release small spores into the air. These spores have the effect of paralysis on those who breathe enough of them in, making them easy hosts for the Flood. So, the longer you hesitate in taking the Cruiser, the more time the Flood will have to spread the spores. I'm afraid that time is tight, Lieutenant Commander. I estimate you have, since this is such a small portion of instillation 04, a little less than five hours before the spores begin to take their toll."
      Cunningham's gut felt queasy. If what Spark said was true, they'd really have to hustle it.
      "By the way, Lieutenant Commander...are all of your men armed with weapons suited to taking the Cruiser?"
      Cunningham turned and looked at his men.
       They were better off than he had expected. Since their battle with the Flood ten minutes earlier, every Marine, even the bridge crew seemed to be carrying an assault weapon.
      ]So he turned to Spark and said, "Yeah, I guess so, but why-?"
      His breath caught in his throat as he suddenly felt light headed, saw rings of pulsating gold travel down the length of his body and saw a literal explosion of light...

Battle for the Norah: Part Five
Date: 29 September 2003, 12:36 AM

      Cunningham felt himself begin to come back together, like a million piece puzzle precisely re-assembled at a hyper-sonic speed...several hundred feet in the air.
      He realized he was hanging over a large chasm that spanned three decks and was probably three hundred feet deep.
      Then he felt gravity take over and fell. He had only gone five feet...when he hit the glass panel.
      He could hear the other Marines and Navy personnel materialize with a whoosh and heard their expletives as they found themselves five feet above the deck, and WHAMS as they landed.

      He started to get up, nursing a bloodied nose when the Sergeant and Elite fell on top of him again.
      His dislike for Spark just kept growing.
      He once again struggled out from under their dead weight and observed the area.
      They were in a large room that spanned three decks. The walls were lined with the purplish metal that the Covenant favored, and it made Cunningham slightly naseaous. There was a huge cylinder that ran the decks' length. There was some kind of phosphorus liquid inside that was emitting a faint, red glow.
      He was on the top of the three decks, looking down through a meter thick pane of glass towards it.
      What interested him though wasn't the shape of the decks or the huge cylinder...it was the carnage below them.
      There were Covenant on the second deck who were leaning over the edge and firing with reckless abandon. Flood Combat Forms were jumping up to the second deck at different points and were smothered by plasma fire by Elites, Jackals and Grunts...but not before they took a few Covies down with them.
      Cunningham was struck dumb.
      What should he do? Kill the Covies? The Flood? Both?
      No, no...the answer was obvious. He'd have to ally his troops with the Covenant. The Flood was the most deadly of the pair and would have to be dealt with first...but how the heck did you get thirty Marines through a meter of glass?
      "Sir," came Sergeant Barnes voice from behind him.
      "What is it?" Cunningham said, not even bothering to turn around, for he was too mesmerized by the carnage.
      "Well, sir," he began. "My men and Sergeant Strom's men are ready to move."
      "Right...Right...Let's look for a way out of here," he said, finally tearing himself away from the battle.
      Spark once again warped straight in front Cunningham's face.
      Cunningham felt every muscle in his body tense out of anger. He took a few deep breaths and then said through gritted teeth "What is it, and would you please not do that?"
      "Commander, there is only one way off of this deck. That would be the lift to your right.
      "Whatever. Thanks," Cunningham said once again between gritted teeth.
      " However..."Spark began again.
      But Cunningham wasn't listening. Cunningham and each Sergeant with all of their men quickly trotted across the one hundred fifty meter space towards the single lift. The reason for the single lift was that the deck they were on, the observation deck was meant for inspections and decoration.
      Once they reached the lift, half of the men stepped inside, including Sergeant Strom and Lieutenant Cunningham.
      Cunningham pressed the lift's button.
      Nothing.
      He frowned and pressed it again.
      Nothing.
      It was then that he noticed the smell of burnt metal that was still wafting from below.
      Cunningham scowled, slung his MA5B and pulled out his M6D pistol.
      There was a thin space that ran around the circular lift and separated it from the wall.
      Cunningham pointed the scope on the pistol down through the crack. He decided to look directly below the control panel on this floor. After all, putting the controls any where else wouldn't make any sense. He had barely zoomed in when he saw a smoking panel in the wall.
      He let out a low growl. Some Covie must have torched it in order to keep the Flood from following them. It made sense, but it hindered his progress and made it impossible to get down to the next deck.
      "As I was saying," Spark continued. "A Covenant soldier destroyed the control panel in order to stop the Flood from accessing the second deck. There is no way to repair it, so you are essentially..."
      "Stuck," Cunningham finished. "Yeah, I kind of noticed that. Since you seem to be the expert here, what do you suggest we do?"
      "The only other way is to destroy the glass and drop through...but a fall of one hundred feet would surely kill you."
      "Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious!" Cunningham spat.

      Now what? he thought. There was no way to get through that glass.
      Then a rather obvious thought occurred to him. Does Barnes still have them?he thought.
      "Barnes," he said as he turned to face his Sergeant. "Do you still have the rappelling gear?"

      When they had located the Navy personnel earlier, they had used self-adhesive rappelling gear and D-rings to get them down. It would've taken them hours to have them all climb down. The self-adhesive ascenders themselves were bi-functional. That meant they could raise or lower a Marine due to a small, powerful battery operated motor that had 5 horsepower. The thin cord that the ascenders utilized was a titanium-nylon composite and could stand 5,000 pounds of pressure per inch, which was enough to hold several Hogs, even though it couldn't lift them...they were far to heavy for the motor. They also had a small computer chip, which allowed them to smart link with any normal neural interface for voice commands. All that, and they were only the size of a fist.

      "Uh...yes, sir...why do you ask?"
      "What's their maximum extension?"
      Barnes consulted the side of one of the Ascenders.
      It says here that it has a maximum extension of one hundred and fifty...oh..." he said as Cunningham's plan began to dawn on him.
      "I get it...we blow a hole in the glass and rappel down into the fight, eh?"
      "Exactly."
      "You're crazy, you know."
      "I know all to well, but we don't have a choice," Cunningham said as he checked the electronic ammo counter on his MA5B; a full clip.
      "Why can't we ever have another choice?..."

Battle for the Norah: Part Six
Date: 11 October 2003, 2:29 AM

      Everything was set. The four ascenders had been attached to the floor a few inches away from the glass.
      "Frag!" Cunningham yelled as he and four other Marines tossed one Frag grenade apiece onto the glass.
      Three...
      Two...
      One...
      WHAAAAAAAM!!! CRASSSSSSKLKLKLKEEE!!!
      The grenades went off and cratered and splintered the glass two feet. That glass was tough.
      "Frag again!" The Lieutenant Commander yelled as he tossed another grenade and the four other Marines followed suit.
      The grenades exploded and blew a hole threw what left of the crater, which caused several Covenant to look up, startled at the sudden appearance of the Marines.
      One gold armored Elite in particular, Kall 'Kanamee felt all of his mandibles go slack at once.
      Humans on The Norah? How was that possible? He was brought back into combat as the Grunt to his right, named Dadap, had an infection form leap on to his face and screamed. Kanamee vaporized the unfortunate Grunt with an explosion from the Fuel Rod Gun he had scooped up.

      The glass had muted the sounds of the battle below. Before it had sounded like someone hammering on aluminum siding. Now it created precisely the sound of a screeching cat being kicked to death by a air raid siren, all while being forcibly pushed through a meat grinder.
      Cunningham hooked the D-Ring onto the cord and took one last look before he jumped through the hole he had created in the glass.
      All that carnage...he grinned. The Helljumpers had nothing on the Marines about to go through that glass.
      Then he jumped.
      What a rush! All of his limbs felt light; his senses became incredibly alert. He could see and process everything at once. Adrenaline had flooded his system and he felt as though he could take on the Flood in their entirety. As he slid down the rope he fired his Assault Rifle; the bullets tore apart a combat that had jumped right in front of the gold armored Elite, which sent its sponge like gore splattering all over the floor.
      He landed right beside a Jackal, which, needless to say, was surprised and started to bring its plasma pistol to bear, but Cunningham jerked the weapon out of its hands and fried a Combat form with it. He then proceeded to hand the pistol back, smiled and said:       "Hi."
      The Jackal just gawked until Cunningham pointed out a rather large concentration of Combat forms on the floor below. Cunningham primed and tossed another frag grenade as the Jackal obliged by overcharging his pistol and fired in their midst, mangling two and setting one on fire in the ensuing explosion while the grenade tore the rest to bloody ribbons.
      By this time ten more Marines had come through the hole and were showing the crew of the Norah how to rip the Flood a new one. As more Marines came, more Flood fell in quicker succession...but something was wrong.
       The Flood were still coming. Cunningham moved away from the Jackal, stepped over a mangled corpse, reloaded and continued to fire.
      Flood were falling down like clockwork, but instead of receding like they should've, it seemed like there was actually more of them. It was like the more that they killed, the more there were.
      Not unlike their usual modus operandi, Cunningham thought to himself. It was right about then that he noticed the Infection forms starting to climb up the walls. This fact was brought to his attention as a Jackal screeched and sent a stream of plasma arcing toward the Infection Forms. Cunningham immediately rotated and his Assault Rifle spit lead.
      His burst caught one of the lead Infection Forms, causing it to set off a chain reaction, eliminating an entire group.
      ...And this wasn't just the usual feeling that Cunningham got, there were more of them. Cunningham started to feel nervous. They were starting to overwhelm the group, even with the Marines in there mixing it up. The infection forms were coming in waves up the wall. He had to do something about those. They were the largest threat to the force.
      Over the command freq he yelled "Strom, I want your men on those infection forms! Barnes, get your men on those at the bottom of the wall. I want those Infection Forms gone, do you hear me?"
      "Yes, sir" They both said. Then Strom said "What about the Covies?"
      "For all I care, they can fall on their cute little plasma swords. We can't depend on them. All we've got is ourselves."

Back up on the observation deck, Pierce Hudson had a decision to make. From here, he could see the battle as it unfolded, and he was worried. They were getting overwhelmed, even after Cunningham had split his fire....He and the 19 other Naval personnel could balance that out...Even win it for the sudden alliance. A frown creased his brow as he considered his options. He and his men had been given specific instructions to not dive into the fight for any reason...but what's a fight if you didn't improvise?
      He grinned. He'd always wanted to be a hero.
      "All right, guys," he said as he turned; he toyed with the Plasma Pistol hanging off of his hip. "Cunningham obviously needs us, so I say we get down there and fight." He was met with incredulous looks. He had been known to be the most reckless of the backup crew, and he wasn't exactly what one would call trusted.
      He waited for volunteers, and, finding none, resolved to dive into the fight himself. He walked over to the ascenders and started to lower himself down, hand over hand. The relatively large diameter of the rope made it possible. Despite the fact that he was using gripping with his bare hands and was looking over his shoulder to make sure he wouldn't get nailed by a stray shot, he was making good progress.
      80 feet...
      60 feet...
      40 feet...
      He quickly shimmied down the last twenty feet and dropped to the deck.

Battle for the Norah: Part Seven
Date: 13 October 2003, 11:13 PM

      Pierce Hudson dropped to the deck and searched for Cunningham.
      There. 30 yards to his right. The Eel-Tee Commander was dealing with a group of Infection Forms that were climbing up the wall.
      Hudson started to run in that direction, and as he did, he pulled the Plasma Pistol off his bet and held down the trigger. As the charge built up, the pistol started to buck. Hard. He was having trouble getting the dang thing steady.

       Cunningham stood between two other Marines, one Private First Class and a Corporal. They were both armed with M90 Shotguns, which was good. Shotguns were to Flood what Raid was to cockroaches. Cunningham triggered another short burst from his MA5B, which put four Infection forms out of business, when a man in a naval uniform dove in front of him and knocked him into the wall; his vision became blurred and he slid to the floor. He lifted his head up and looked over his chest.

      What the-?

      It was Hudson. That idiot!Cunningham thought. He has orders not to jump down here for any reason and yet here he is! The fool's to darn valuable to let him die. He's going to get himself killed and we might be stuck here!

      As he ran past Cunningham, he accidentally clipped him with his shoulder and sent the Lt. Commander into the wall. He still had the Pistol charged as he jumped in front of the other two Marines and blocked their lines of fire. One of them yelled something at him, but he wasn't listening.
      He steadied the pistol as best he could, and let the ball of green death fly. It homed in on the lead infection form and it was destroyed in the ball of fire. Not only that, but its explosion started a long chain reaction among the infection forms. The explosions snaked down along the wall and took all of the Flood on the wall out.
      The pistol opened and dumped waste heat out onto his hands. Pierce yelped, because he hadn't expected it to dump heat, and blisters quickly appeared all over his right hand. The pistol clattered to the floor and Pierce nursed his injured hand.

      Cunningham had started to get up when he heard more of the boot-squishing-in the-mud sounds that he associated with the Flood. For some reason he could only guess at, his adrenaline spiked and his vision became clear. He looked over at the wall. There were no forms coming up. His arms hefted him up to a sitting position and he felt himself frown as he looked back at Hudson (Who grinned nervously and carefully cradled his right hand.) and prepared to chew him out.

      He never got the chance.

      He saw one, then two infection forms flip up from the edge of the floor on his left. They both launched themselves at Pierce and one nailed him in the back of the head. More kept coming, and they all threw themselves at Hudson. He was screamed a terrible high-pitched scream of mortal terror as one popcorn like form inserted a controller tendril into his neck and searched for his spinal cord. The Corporal and the PFC stood stock still, afraid to shoot the Bridge officer. Cunningham groped behind himself for his Assault Rifle to kill Hudson with, but he couldn't find it. He drew his M6D pistol, but the Flood was to fast. As he brought the pistol to bear, he had a brief picture flash in his mind; a picture of a man covered by hundreds of bees, yellow jackets and hornets, all stinging as they attempted to take him down.
      Cunningham managed to fire a wild shot that destroyed an infection form on the outermost reaches of Hudson's arm, but instead of starting a chain reaction like it should have, the force from the blast launched the infection form next to it into the air. Cunningham cursed and trained the pistol on the form so he could destroy it, but it suddenly moved as if struck by lightning. The infection forms used their tentacles to lift what had to be a substantial amount of weight and raced over to the edge at an unbelievable speed and Cunningham's next few shots went wide.
      Once there, the forms left the same way they had come. They streamed back under the edge of the deck and Cunningham and the two other Marines ran after them.
      Cunningham threw his head and arms over the edge in order to search for it on the underside of the deck, and with a shock, realized it was already to the bottom deck. He used the scope and fired a few more shots, but he realized it was useless. The aberration had made it to the far corner of the room and had suddenly shifted shape. For one terrible second, Hudson's face was exposed. His eyes were wide, his mouth frozen open from the pain and terror. He screamed one more time "HELP MEEEEEE!!!"
The infection forms skittered over one another, as they struggled to fit through a ventilation shaft. Most of the Flood in the room suddenly turned and followed them.
      The shaft! Cunningham suddenly thought. They must be coming in through that shaft!
      He yelled into his boom mike as he reached for his MA5B: "Somebody get an ascender down here NOW! We need to cut the bastards of here!"

      An Ensign heard the yell, and hit a button on one of the ascenders a hundred feet above. There was a pop as the vacuum motors that the ascender used to attach itself to the floor let go, and the Ensign side armed it through the hole in the glass. It dropped rapidly, gaining momentum as it fell.
      Cunningham caught the five pound object and could have sworn he had broken his fingers, but he was still able to move them. He yelled at a particularly trigger-happy Private who wielded one of the two Jackhammer launchers they had: "If the Covies try to kill us down there, you silence 'em! Got it?!" The Private nodded and grinned.
      Cunningham attached the ascenders to the edge, clipped his D-ring on and jumped, all in one smooth motion. The Corporal and Private hooked themselves on as well and followed him.
      They slid haphazardly down the rope, and the three of them landed with a jolt on the deck. With surprise, the Commander realized several of the birdlike Jackals had jumped down here already, and were firing wildly. As he and the two others ran past the Jackals, Cunningham paused long enough to pick up a shield from a dead one.
      They raced forward, made the corner of the large cylinder, and were confronted by a Combat Form. The Corporal slipped on the large amount of multi-colored blood on the floor and slid under the form. As he did, the shotgun roared and the Flood form ceased to exist.
      The Corporal stood back up and they continued to run towards the shaft, the two shotguns and the pistol kicking like mad.
      Only a few more feet now...50...35...10...Cunningham dropkicked an infection form out of the way, primed and rolled a frag grenade into the shaft, and slammed the shield into place, which blocked the Flood's way out. He could feel the vibrations through his shield as the grenade went off, killing hundreds of the little bastards. Then he realized his critical mistake.
      He had no way to make sure the things didn't get out. He wasn't strong enough to hold for long, and he couldn't let the shield up to frag again.
      Unless he figured out something, he was dead.

Battle for the Norah: Part Eight
Date: 26 October 2003, 2:46 PM

      Darnit, darnit, darnit! Cunningham thought as he held the Jackal shield against the vent. How was he going to get out of this one?

      He felt the Flood give a particularly strong shove and the shield got knocked back; the Flood hadn't been expecting that, and had backed off to give another shove. Cunningham slammed the shield back into place.

      His strength wouldn't hold for much longer. He had to find a way to seal the thing, but how?

      His eyes swept over the room...and he spotted the dead, Red Elite slumped over the nearest corner of the engine.

      "One of you, get that Elite's sword!" he yelled at the PFC and the Corporal.



      The Corporal spun on his heel and ran. He was five feet from it when a Combat Form leaped in front of him from behind the corner of the cylinder, reared back, and impaled the Corporal upon its huge claw hand, killing him instantly; the Corporal didn't' even have time to scream.

      The PFC cursed, started running, took aim and fired; the M90 Shotgun kicked. The shot took the Corporal in the back, blew through him and smashed through the Flood form, which collapsed on the ground, growled and died. The PFC reached the sword, turned around, wound up and let the sword fly at Cunningham.



      Cunningham caught the sword and wondered vaguely how he turned it on. He saw a button on the back of it. Thats gotta be it, he thought to himself as he swung it behind him, and pressed the button. It ignited with a sound that Cunningham thought of as a small thunderclap. Strangely, there was no heat near the hand guard, but he could see the air waver near the blade and tip. The sword also seemed to lock his wrist in place.

      Whatever, it wouldn't hurt.

      The stabbed the wall with the sword, which sank all the way in up to the hilt. The metal around the sword hissed, bubbled, popped and began to melt back over the Jackal shield. He worked the sword around the edges of the shield as fast as he could, melting the metal evenly to provide no weak points for the Flood to exploit.

      Cunningham saw the Flood disappear behind the shield for a second in order to back and give another lunge, and lunge they did. It was their hardest shove yet, and the shield barely held. Barely.



      Though by this time, the metal was running down the shield like wax. It started to harden around the edge of the circle. Cunningham had to disengage the wrist brace so that the metal wouldn't fry his arm. The Flood kept slamming, but each time, it became less noticeable and less noticeable. That metal's heavy, Cunningham thought to himself. Really heavy. The Flood can't even slam through it!

      Above, on the second deck, Kall 'Kanamee keyed the Covenant equivalent to a radio. The Human commander was sitting there, with the sword in the wall, waiting to be shot. Granted, he had saved his life, but the Human was an enemy and would have to go.

      There was a moment of static as the device tuned to the correct frequency. After a moment, 'Kanamee said: "Excellency, Humans have managed to board the ship. They have helped us remove the Flood from the Engine room. They Flood managed to capture a Human ship officer. Would it be wise to kill the Humans?"

      Back on the bridge, Ship Master Faly considered. The very fact that there were even Humans left on Halo surprised him, but he did not let it cloud his judgment. Here, he would have to weigh both sides of the coin against one another. How much of the crew was left? Not enough, that's for sure he thought. We ourselves are too weak to regain control of the Norah on our own... Besides, the Humans were merely pests, easily brushed aside at a moment's notice.

      "No. Do not kill them all. You may pick off a few and make them look like accidents or something of that nature, but we will keep them alive as long as necessary. We can dispose of them at out leisure."

      "Yes, Excellency. You are correct." 'Kanamee spoke back. Faly heard the com crackle and go silent. The Ship Master turned back to his own dilemma: He was trapped in the bridge with only one way out. When the Norah's power had gone out, he had ordered the Elites with Plasma Swords to begin cutting through the door, including himself. However, when the power had come back on, he had attempted opening the door using the controls, but they did not respond. They were either knocked out during the crash, or he had cut too far into the door and destroyed the mechanisms that powered it. At the moment though, it was only a minor annoyance. He had but a few more inches to go.

      He re-ignited the sword and jammed it back into the door. It only took him a few seconds to finish cutting to the floor, so he stood back to admire his handiwork.



      The door had metal rivers running down both sides of the giant gash he had created in the door's center. With a little pushing and wedging, it would be open and Faly would escape to a place where he could do some good by directing troops and liberating essential compartments. Nobody knew the Norah like he did, after all. He advanced back towards the door, placed his hands in the crack and began to force the sides apart, but he never finished.

      The door seemed to explode towards him. It knocked him off of his feet, lifted him and threw him into a console; his shield flashed, and he felt a sharp pain in the back of his head. His eyes seemed to have stars explode in front of them as he slid to the floor. He felt a liquid run down his snout and into his mouth. He tasted it. Warm and sticky.



      Blood.



      Even with his reduced vision, he could see the monstrosity that advanced towards him through the doorway and smoke. It was huge, at least ten units tall. It seemed to writhe as muscles rippled under its skin. Infection forms crawled over it, and he could make out bumps where infection forms had allowed themselves to be absorbed into the monster's body. Its pale green flesh glistened and it made squishing sounds as it slowly approached him. A Human head, deformed to the point of near non-recognition stood out on its shoulders. Faly could barely make out the words: Lt. Hudson, Pierce on the being's chest, for they were faded as the Infection forms had taken the Human over.

      It let out a deep, bass rumble that shook the room and hurt Faly's ears. Immediately a number of Infection Forms leaped off of the aberration's body for him. A few crashed into his shield and popped, but the shield, already weakened by the explosion from the door, gave way quickly. As the forms started to insert tendrils down his back in order to take over his nervous system, Faly let out a final scream.

      Cunningham stood hunched over, his hands on his knees, his breath hitching in his chest. He leaned up against a wall and let himself collapse to the floor. The first battle had been won, but many more were to come.

Battle for the Norah: Part Nine
Date: 4 November 2003, 3:10 AM

      Well, if his Excellency says it's all right to kill a few and make it look like an accident, there's no better time to start than now, 'Kanamee thought to himself as he swung the Fuel Rod Gun he hefted to the counter-clockwise in order to destroy the Human who had trapped the Flood in the air vent with the shield and sword. He adjusted his aim, and was about to fire when he heard a loud CHUNK! behind him. He turned around and realized his face was no more than a few inches from the launching tube of a Human Rocket Launcher. A grinning Private had the weapon hoisted above his right shoulder. The rank insignia had the name Pvt. Thompson, Colin stamped on it.
      "I wouldn't do that if I were you," he said as he cocked an eyebrow and smiled smugly.

      Adrenaline burst through his system, his eyes opened wide and 'Kanamee took an unconscious step backward. He slipped comically on the blood on the deck. He slammed onto the floor and his shields briefly flared; the Fuel Rod Gun he was carrying skittered away behind him. He felt the adrenaline slow after the Human did not shoot. Quickly, he swallowed his surprise and spoke. "Rednammoc ruoy rean mrof noitcefnI na rof gnimia saw I."
      Thompson, unamused said, "Speak English, you idiot. I know you can."
      'Kanamee growled, then said, "I was aiming for an infection form near your Commander-"
      "Yeah, you weren't aiming at Cunningham and Hitler promised to stop after Poland. I have got a half a mind to blow you to bits right here, but I won't. So far as I can tell, you're the only one of the Covenant nuts here who can speak English, so I'm going to let you live. The next time you even think about pulling a cheap shot like that, your friends get to peel you off of the wall with a spatula. Do you get me, or do I have to blow you to kingdom come anyway?"
      'Kanamee felt his muscles tense and his jaw clench at the shame of the indignity. A Human commanding him to do something! He made a mental note to make sure that this Human died. If anything, 'Kanamee would make sure of this.

      On the deck below, Cunningham pushed himself up from the floor, which was slick with blood, and surveyed the results of the carnage. Blood spattered walls and corpses were everywhere. The cylinder's liquid still pulsed steadily. He drew his M6D and fired at a few stray infection forms that were near the wall. He missed his first and second shot, but his third shot nailed the last one in line. It exploded and set off a chain reaction which took out three more of the squid-like aberrations.

      He walked over to the Corporal, who was in the center of a growing pool of blood; he had three gory holes punched through his torso from a Combat Form's claw-like hand. As a matter of fact, the arm was still there. The blast from the M90 didn't make the Corporal look any prettier either. Bone stuck out at irregular points. His ribs had been shattered and scratched at the same time by the shot. Cunningham saw what he thought was part of the soldier's vertebrae, but he couldn't tell. It was mangled far too much. For all he knew, it could have been part of the jaw. Literally. The Corporal's face was just about nonexistent. All that remained was a bloody, gory, ugly, unrecognizable mess.
      The scene was grisly; so horribly grisly in fact that Cunningham was forced to swallow rising bile. He shook his head and took the Corporal's dog tags. He didn't bother to look at them as he stuffed them into his pocket. He took the dead man's shotgun; his own MA5B wasn't doing much good against the Flood. Then he looked through the corporal's rucksack and found several packs of shotgun ammo; three in all. He multiplied in his head. Each pack held about 30 shells, so that gave him 90 in addition to whatever was already loaded into the weapon.
      The Private joined him on his way back to the ascending cable. He was tight-lipped and stared straight ahead. The Corporal and he must have been very good friends.

      Cunningham, weighed down by the three weapons and their ammo, attached his D-ring to one of several loops on the ascender.
      In the HUD over his left eye, a message appeard:
      Smart Link Established. Command?
      All Cunningham said into the boom mike was, "Up." The ascender recognized the command. He was jerked off of his feet as the motor came to life with a whir, and he quickly reached the second deck. "Everybody, get down here now; get ready to move," he spoke into the mike.
      The Navy personnel began shimmying down the three remaining ascenders on the top deck. Those that weren't armed picked up Plasma Rifles, Plasma pistols and grenades from the dead Covenant on the floor. Cunningham handed his M6D pistol and its seven clips of ammo to a navy Ensign. It wasn't going to do much good in the close quarters he expected to be moving through.
      He walked over to a Golden clad Elite, Kall 'Kanamee, who was scowling at the Jackhammer wielding Private. The Jackhammer was still pointing at the 'Kanamee's face; the Private was grinning. He obviously enjoyed making the Covenant lie on the ground there, looking helpless and foolish.
      "At ease," he said to the Private. The Private grinned even wider, chuckled and lowered the rocket launcher. "I assume you're in command of the Covenant forces here?" he said to the Elite as he walked up.
      "Yes. And you are in command of the Humans?"
      "That would be correct. Like it or not, we're going to have to work with each other if any of us here want to make it off of this forsaken rock alive. I have about twenty-nine Marines along with nineteen naval officers. Your forces?"
      "I have with me seven of my own kind, twelve of what you call 'Jackals', and ten of the 'Grunts'. I also have two Engineers."
      "Two what?" Cunningham said as his brow creased in confusion.
      "Engineers," 'Kanamee said as he pointed to a corner. Cunningham turned and saw a pair of what looked like some kind of purple, cloud-like squid. They floated about a meter off of the ground by means Cunningham wasn't aware of.
      "They can repair machinery and electronics with remarkable speed and precision. I am afraid that they are not fighters, however."
      "Great," was all Cunningham said in reply. "Do you know the way around this ship?"
      'Kanamee shook his head. "I am afraid not. Because of our caste system, I only know the way to the bridge, here and back from my quarters and-" 'Kanamee's sentence was cut short as a spheroid dropped right between he and Cunningham. 'Kanamee felt himself visibly jerk, and he nearly slipped on the gore that covered the relatively clean floor. "What in the Prophets' name-?" he began.
      It was Spark. "Greetings," he said. "I am Three Four Three Guilty-"
      Cunningham growled, smacked the back of Spark with the butt of his assault rifle, rolled his eyes and said "What are you trying to do, turn us on each other? I'll do the introductions." Spark made a small harrumph! and floated off tersely.
      "That was 343 Guilty Spark, the monitor of Halo. He's a real pain." The Lieutenant Commander shook his head and sighed. "He tried to trick a Human into firing Halo. Along with the other Halos, it would've destroyed all Humans and Covenant. It's a doomsday kind of weapon, I suppose."
      'Kanamee nodded. "There have been legends of such an artificial intelligence construct, but I did not believe them...at least until now."
      "Well then, how do you propose we begin our campaign to take back the ship?" said Cunningham as he looked back over his shoulder at Spark, who was floating in a corner and humming what sounded like a Gregorian monk chant.
      "I suggest we-" 'Kanamee started, but Spark turned, flew, and inserted himself back in the way. He ignored both beings' scowls and muttered threats and spoke.
      "Take back essential compartments from the Flood. I suggest we start by taking back the security center. It is down on the next deck and down a hallway. Teleportation to that target is-"
      "Hold it. Before you pull your disappearing act with all of us, I want to confer with Sami...Speaking of whom," Cunningham said as he looked around "Where is she? Did she get pulled out with Pierce?"
      "No, actually. I'm out here in the bloody tank," Sami said back over the radio. "I've been drawing Flood out of the docking bay and destroying them. There are less and less each time, though." There was a crackle of machine gun fire and a burst of static. "I've also used the radio equipment to broadcast myself into the Norah's system...I've got access to the security cams, and some life support systems. I'm afraid I can't do much for you. Oh..." she paused as if surprised. "You aren't going to like what's going on in the bridge...It has to do with Hudson... "
      "He's alive? He can't be alive, there's just no way." Cunningham said incredulously.
      "No. There's no way he could be alive like this. Anyway, the Norah is surprisingly like a Human ship, at least in design. They have a bridge, but they also have backup compartments and a secondary bridge. Oddly enough, they also have airtight access tunnels that aren't in the schematics. Dozens of them. They're blocked by doors that are about two meters thick. No kind of scan could locate them, not even one of Cortana's. I found them by using a camera in one of them."
      "All right, where's the closest one?"
      Sami sighed and said "Down a hall on the first deck. The one to your right."
      "All right, let's get moving. Spark," Cunningham said. "Zap us to the security center."
      Spark processed an electronic sigh and said, "I am afraid that is impossible."
      "Like crap it is," Cunningham muttered as he thumbed the M90's safety off and pointed it at Spark. "I want us in there now ."
      Spark laughed. "You realize that your weapon will have no effect on me, do you not?"
      "Not just me." Cunningham nodded and several Marines nearby raised their weapons. Thompson also raised his Jackhammer and coaxed as many metallic sounds as he could out of it, all the while grinning like a fool.
CHUNK! KA-CHACK! CLICK!
Cunningham nodded to 'Kanamee. 'Kanamee growled an order and several Covenant nervously pointed their weapons at Spark. Three Elites, including 'Kanamee, even went so far as to activate their plasma swords and approached Spark.
TSWEEE! CRASSSH!
      Now Spark became nervous. He began to stammer. "Commander, teleportation is...sui -suicidal. That room is full of Flood! After all, why leave yourself with an ex - p -posed flank?! They would attack from the hallway!"
      Cunningham scowled; Spark was right. It would be suicidal. At least they knew they could twist Spark's arm. He had gotten very nervous when they had ganged up on him. He could stand one Marine with a weapon, but he didn't like going up against 50 plus weapons at once.
      "Right then," the Lieutenant Commander said as he walked back towards the ascender. "Let's go."

      One deck above, the last of the bridge crew had just started to climb down the rope, when he heard a pair of groans. He poked the top of his head over the lip of the hole, and was shocked to see the Sergeant Johnson and the Elite stir.
      "Commander!" he said "I think you'd better take a look at this!"
      Sergeant Johnson groaned again, rolled over and said, "Five more minutes..."

Battle for the Norah: Part Ten
Date: 21 November 2003, 2:53 AM

*Author's Note: Sorry abuot it being so short. I'm leaving my comp for Thanksgiving, and I wanted to get this out before I left.*






      All First Sergeant Avery Johnson felt was somebody yelling in his ear from only a few feet away. His head was throbbing and all he wanted was for it to stop. It had been hurting ever since he had gotten away from the Covenant in that Ghost...

      With the memory, adrenaline shot through his system and he sat bolt upright. The sudden light nearly blinded him, but he blinked a few times and the sensation passed. He saw the butt of his Assault Rifle out of the corner of his eye and he reached for it. However, he realized that the barrel was under the body of a sprawled out Elite that he had been playing tug-of-war with. Johnson recoiled and nearly fell through the hole that Cunningham and the Marines had blown open earlier. He cursed heavily and caught the lip. Unfortunately, his feet caught an Ensign on the head, and the Ensign was knocked down the rope several feet. Avery hauled himself back over the lip and caught his breath.
He then noticed his surroundings

      Wha-!? I'm on the T and R?! He quickly realized that he had not been in this room before. He leaned back over and looked through the hole. His eyes met with several staring faces of both Human and Covenant origin. He stared back a few seconds, then reached over and shoved the Elite off of his rifle. (None too gently) It barely stirred; it was still knocked out.

      He then realized that treating the Elite badly wasn't the smartest idea. It was the best idea he had ever had. That was the reason he brought his combat boot down on the Elite's groin. The Elite's eyes blew open and gurgling sounds emitted from its throat. Johnson repeatedly dropkicked the Elite, and each time it moved a good six feet. The final kick lifted off of the floor and threw it into the wall. The shields didn't flash, so they must have been turned off. The Elite squeaked something out and a shimmer wrapped itself around the armor. Sarge realized what was happening, cycled the bolt on his rifle, and uttered a one word sentence: "Dance!" The forthcoming staccato burst from his MA5B ripped up pieces of the floor and the Elite yelped. It tried to run away, but only succeeded in limping. "How'd that feel?" Johnson chuckled, turned around, climbed down through the hole, and went hand under hand down the cord. He reached the deck quickly.

      He turned and spoke to Cunningham." Sir, Sergeant Avery Johnson reporting."
Cunningham nodded. He was about to say something when the door that lead out aft of the engineering room opened with a crash. Five combat forms were framed in the doorway.
      Cunningham cursed, turned, hooked himself back onto the ascender and dropped to the bottom deck. Cunningham pulled the slide back and braced the 8-guage against his shoulder. Two of the forms sprinted towards him, one of them jumped like it had springs attached to its feet and the remaining two hung back.
      The Lt. Commander aligned the shotgun's barrel with the leaping form and fired. The shot was perfect. The torso landed right at Cunningham's feet, all without major limbs. He swung his upper body to the right and centered the sight on another one of the combat forms. Its leg disappeared as the M90 roared. Then its arm as the M90 coughed again. The form fell and slammed to the deck.
      He turned to take care of the third form, but Sergeant Johnson had come down the rope, and with the yell, "Eat this!" his assault rifle let out a high pitched screamed. The combat form jerked as the wall of lead slammed into it. It seemed to twitch, wilt and fly apart.
      There was a WHOOSH! and a contrail flew from the second deck. The Jackhammer rocket slammed into the floor in front of the final two forms at the door, and they disappeared in a ball of fire.
      Up on the second deck, a Private with a Jackhammer named Colin Thompson offered a friendly wave to him.This is getting monotonous, the commander thought. He turned to hook himself back onto the ascender, and was surprised to see Kall 'Kanamee, Fuel Rod Gun and all, was already at the bottom deck.

      "So," he said. "Ready to take back the Norah?
      "More than ready. Where to?"
      "I'm no groundpounder. I'm not much of a hand to hand fighter, either. What does your intelligence construct suggest? She has control over the cameras, does she not?"
      "Well, Sami? What compartment should we take first?"
      "Well," she began. "I'd suggest starting out with the Security Center. Go through a passage directly fore of your current position.
      Cunningham turned a saw a solid wall. "Um...I'm sorry, but I don't see-"
      There was a sighing sound from Sami "It's directly in front of you. Get your men positioned about five ten meters on either side of this," she said, and a nav marker appeared on Cunningham's HUD.
      "All right then," he said. "Time to get jiggy wit it."
      'Kanamee gave him a strange look.

      
      Cunningham had divided his forces between his three Sergeants; Andrew Barnes, Jacob Strom and Avery Johnson. One squad, Strom's, was a man short thanks to the Corporal's earlier death. However, one less Marine wouldn't make much difference. They, along with the Covies, had surrounded the door, and every weapon was pointed towards it. Strom reached up, and almost imperceptibly pressed the open button.

      Nobody saw what was in the hallway, because it was bathed in fire a millisecond afterward. The noise was deafening. They could hear popping noises and explosions. They had hit something, but nobody would know what was in there.

      The forces wound their way down the hallway and reached the Security Center.

TO BE CONTINUED

Battle for the Norah: Part Eleven
Date: 10 December 2003, 2:43 AM

      "Frag out!" somebody yelled from behind him. Sergeant Jacob Strom was forced to duck around back behind a corner in the path to the Security Center in order to not be blown to bits. A fragmentation grenade flew past him, bounced around the corner and exploded. It took out a Combat Form with an overcharged plasma pistol, and some Infection Forms. Amid the dust and smoke, a mangled, claw like limb shot away from the point of detonation and lodged in the lavender wall just above a Grunt's head. It promptly screamed, and rolled up into a little ball on the floor. Jacob grunted and brought his upper body around. He drew his M6D sidearm and popped off randomly aimed shots. He heard more wet thunks as the HE rounds hit something, and a Carrier Form emerged out of the smoke and collapsed against the wall, dead. The Infection forms inside of it were still trying to worm their way out. Strom sighted in on one of them and popped it. The others began to crawl out, but a sustained burst from a Corporal's MA5B tore more chunks out of the already mutilated form and shredded the unlucky infection forms to featherlike shards. The Corporal, Locklear, was an ODST who had his HEV land not to far from them, only a kilometer downspin. He was as good a fighter as any in Lieutenant Commander Cunningham's forces. That was the end of the firefight, the third one they had run into. It was, needless to say, getting tiring. How many more of these would they run into?
      As the group began to move out again, Strom tapped the Grunt with his foot. It whimpered. He rolled his eyes and growled. The Grunt must have thought that Jacob was an Elite, because it jumped to attention. Strom stared at for a few more seconds in disgust. The diminutive Grunt looked up at him, looked back down at himself and muttered something.
      "What'd you say?" the Sergeant demanded.
      The Grunt kept a straight face and said loudly for anyone within thirty meters to hear, "I just wet myself!"
      The Sergeant had to struggle in order to not burst a gut.
      "Good, we've reached it." Strom turned to see who had spoken. It was Cunningham. "I need two volunteers," he continued as he looked at the men under his command. Locklear immediately stepped forward, and was followed by a PFC with an M90. They took up positions beside the door. Locklear ejected his magazine and slid a new one in with a satisfying clack.
      The soon to be utilized battle formation for the group had two Humans with assault weapons, such as Shotguns kneeling in front of the door, and two Covies with heavy, explosive weapons in the back, such as Fuel Rod Guns. The group wouldn't have the use of the heavy weapons this round, though. They would damage the computers if they did. Instead, they were going to have to make due with a Shotgun armed Marine and MA5B utilizing Corporal, two Elites with Plasma Rifles and a Jackal with a Needler who managed to squeeze in on the side .
      They had made their way down the hidden hallway with Sami's directions. The "open button" for the door had been cleverly concealed as an air conditioning control panel. A certain pattern of hot and cold buttons was needed to open the door.

      The door to the Security Center required a normal access code, which Sami was searching for with her hacking skills, and several tools that Cortana had left behind for her. 343 Guilty Spark was hanging at the back of the group, muttering and blabbering something about proper procedure and protocol. They were ignoring him, though he had already gotten under most of their skins.

      "Bingo. It's seven, forty-nine, three hundred forty three, and two-thousand four hundred and one. Be careful. I'm reading several hostiles."
      "Gotcha. Since I don't know Covie numbers, 'Kanamee, open it up."
      The golden Elite and leader of the Covenant there, 'Kanamee nodded and punched the button combination in. The door opened to reveal a smattering of Infection forms, and a group of Combat forms. The Jackal threw back his head and let out a screech as he fired the Needler indiscriminately. The Marine and ODST both proved to be superior marksmen as both arms were blown off of a Combat forms at the same time. Locklear was slightly overzealous, and pockmarks from bullets appeared on the back wall. One of the Elites nailed some Infection forms and they chain-popped. Their feathery shards hovered in the air for a moment before drifting gently to the ground. The Corporal and PFC were forced to pull back their guns as the door slammed shut. A Combat form had taken enough of the glowing, glassy needles, and it was about to blow. The muffled explosion could be heard through the doors, thick as they were. The doors whooshed open again and revealed a messy scene. Gore covered a good part of the wall, and severed limbs from the Combat forms lay on the floor. They advanced into the room, and gingerly stepped over the various appendages.
      "Sami, are there any more hostiles?"
      "The ventilation shaft."
      "Gotcha." Cunningham directed a Grunt to fire into the shaft. It waddled over, stuck its plasma pistol in and fired. Several infection forms popped; their hope for surprise flank attack was gone.
      The pair of Engineers sensed that the room was clear, and they floated in like big, purple blimps. They immediately began typing on the keys that belonged to the row of computers. While Sami gave them commands, Cunningham looked around.

      The Security Center was surprisingly small. Cunningham estimated that it was only eleven feet by thirty feet. A bank of computers occupied the entire right-side wall. There were only two doors out of here. One was dead ahead and lead forward. The other door was on the left, and the Lieutenant Commander could only guess as to where it led. Cunningham himself didn't exactly know how capturing the security system would do. He had his suspicions, but he wanted to make sure. Just as he was about to ask, Sami asked and told him the answer.

      "Okay, I suppose you're wondering why I dragged you to this compartment. The truth is, before, I had very little control over the ship."
      "Very little control?" Cunningham asked incredulously. "You were hacked into the system and the bridge. How couldn't have had control?"
      "Well, if you must know, the Covie security system for the ship is very complex. It's almost airtight. Before a ship can activate its systems completely, it must receive a specific code from each essential compartment, with the exception of life support. Each code is, fortunately stored on a computer. I just need those Engineers to help me hack it."

      "Why can't you hack it yourself?"
      Sami processed an electronic sigh. "Because I'm not meant to hack. I'm a ship operator, but I'm no Cortana. You wouldn't believe how hard it is for me to smash my way through this counter-code. It's like trying to run through a brick wall with pillows for padding."

      "Ah, very clear. I see...So what exactly can you do now?"
      "I'm glad you asked."
      "Really?"
      "No, but I'll tell you anyway. I now have control over the doors. I can open and/or close them anytime I want. I have control over all the cameras-" Sami suddenly stopped in mid-sentence and scowled.

      There. A ping at the edge of the system. It wasn't a normal ping from one of the systems, either. She immediately initiated a tracing program that Cortana had used, but the presence had covered its tracks. The program had nothing to follow. Could the Flood have taken over an Engineer? Despite their appearance, they were extremely intelligent. She knew that from the way they navigated around the computer system. She knew that no Engineer had ever been seen infected before, but it was a possibility...
      Then, without warning, she lost a system and was hit full force by an onslaught of code.

      "What's the matter? Why'd you stop?"
      "I just lost the bridge cameras. The Flood don't want me seeing what's going on up there. They're fighting me hard. Whoever is up there is moving in on the other systems, and he's good. Very good. I'll need one of the Engineers," she said demandingly, "To stay here and help me keep what we've got under our control. The other one of you can go with the group and help at the other compartments."
      The Engineer gave no sign of comprehension, but began to type on the keys once more.

      "Okay, anything else we should know, and what's our next target?"
      "Right. With the exception of the bridge, I have all of the security cameras. I'll provide you with intel while you make our next move."
      "Good," Cunningham muttered. "I always wanted a Cortana."
      "Glad to be the next best thing." Sami's reply was so dry that the Marines could feel the humidity level in the room drop. "Leastways, I think you should hit the Jackal's quarters next." Carrier Forms...Cunningham thought. "There's something funky going on in there, and I can't tell what, even with the cameras. However, I can tell you that the artificial gravity system in there is reversed."

      "Reversed? As in things are floating up in the air instead of having their feet planted solidly on the ground?"
      "Precisely, but I don't know why. Once you've cleaned that out, move further forward and hit the life support systems. We want to kick the air conditioner into high gear so as to filter out the Flood's paralyzer spores."
      "Okay, then. How far is it to the Jackal area?"
      "It's down some more hallways. About one-hundred meters. You'll take a few more firefights before you reach it."
      "Joy. We all know how everybody likes firefights. Don't we boys!?" Cunningham yelled at the Marines.
      "Sir, yes, sir!"
      "All right, you pantywaists. I hope you haven't gotten too comfortable with having gravity angled down. We're about to go to the Jackal barracks, and we're going to nail the Flood with everything we got. Flying or not, got it?!"
      "Sir, absolutely, sir!"
      "Lock and load, gentlemen. Let's move!"

      At the back of the group, Kall 'Kanamee watched the morale raiser through narrowed eyes. This Human was a good commander. 'Kanamee would have to find a way to get rid of him...And, by any means necessary, he could not let the Humans get the strange alliance near the brig...There was something there that the Humans could absolutely not discover...And to make matters worse, is was right in their path.

Battle for the Norah: Part Twelve
Date: 19 December 2003, 1:27 PM

      Blast, it had disappeared again. It was pressing its attack by moving in on the nav comp. Sami threw up a firewall. The incursion code crashed against it and dissipated. For a millisecond, the A.I. considered using a tracing program like before, but that hadn't worked. She changed tactics. Carpe diem she thought as she took her opportunity in the brief respite and ran a search program for all consoles in the ship to find the intruder. He had to be using a console. Nobody could perform an insertion with a handheld device. Of course, using a handheld was possible, but it was highly unlikely. Wherever the feedback was coming from, that had to be where the culprit was. The results came back almost instantly.
      Nothing.
      She let out the electronic equivalent of a growl. This was getting here nowhere fast. Not only had it blocked I.D., it had blocked its source, too. Perhaps some cameras would work... Her strategy sub-routine chewed on that for a full second and committed. Find the party responsible and then vent the air out of the room, or at least shuffle it to another room...Yes, yes, that would certainly work. She searched every camera under her control that would be over a console, and came up blank again. That meant the culprit was on the bridge. Sami hadn't seen any other information to show herself otherwise. She'd just have to play defense, then, though it wouldn't get her anywhere.

      At least something could be said for the Marines. They were making quick progress, and were only about 50 meters from the Jackals' quarters. So far, they hadn't sustained a single casualty, which left them with a total of 31 Marines, including the Sergeants and Cunningham. The Covenant hadn't taken any casualties, either. She had dedicated about 25% of her full processing power to helping them. The other 75% was being utilized to defend against the intruder. She was able to keep track of them through brief usage of the camera, and their biomonitors. One particular bio-monitor drew her attention, Sergeant Johnson's.
What surprised her about that was that Sergeant Johnson's heart rate was at normal, even during the height of combat. She had decided that this man was 100% hardcore Marine.
That wasn't the most intriguing information; it was the fact that he had traces of Flood DNA in his system, for reasons she could only begin to guess at. She glanced again at the ship's schematics to check their exact route and found something interesting.

      Cunningham was walking down the hallway with his M90 raised and at the ready when Sami keyed him.
      "Hold it. I suggest that you send a small detachment of Marines through that door on your left. There's a hidden armory in there. Several Plasma Rifles and assorted other weapons. They'll be useful, because the Jackal area is overrun with Flood."
      The Lt. Commander looked to his left and saw only a wall. "Sami, when has a room not been overrun? And lemme guess," he chuckled. "Another case of concealed doors?"
      "Abracadabra," she responded, and a five by ten section of the wall rose up and backwards into darkness to reveal a hallway. It was dark beyond five meters in the corridor.
      "It's an armory. You'll need some more weapons in order to make it through the engagement in the Jackal room. Plus, I believe you're running short on ammo."
      Cunningham pumped the slide on the assault shotgun several times and six shells arced into the air and landed on the deck. He picked them back up, and loaded those six plus six additional shells into the gun. He had about seventy shells left, but the others were probably running low...
      "All right, then. I'll need three volunteers," Cunningham began as he turned around. Strom had already stepped forward, and an African Private named Hernandez, and an Oriental PFC that Cunningham didn't' recognize had as well.
      Cunningham grinned and ordered, "Okay then, gentlemen. Get to the armory, grab as much crap as you can and then hightail it back here. I need everyman available, understand? We'll continue on to the room. Make it fast."
      "Yes, sir," the three chorused as one. They turned and disappeared into the darkness.

      Perfect. When opportunity comes, take it and strangle it. Kall 'Kanamee's thoughts echoed in his own head as he grinned. A perfect opportunity, indeed. He looked to his right and spotted the lone spec ops Elite under his command, Harrak 'Dulammee. 'Dulammee had a reputation for carrying out orders with precise and lethal efficiency. The hardcore spec ops fighter had garnered the image of a butcher due to his constant brutalizing of his foes. Even though an enemy would be dead, Harrak would run the opponent through with his plasma sword as he explained, "Just to make sure." He had once done such a thing to a Human who had no arms, a single leg and was missing his head. The Elite was the best that 'Kanamee had ever known, and he knew it. He was just the
      'Kanamee got the expert's attention with his eyes, and gave a tiny nod towards the armory. The Elite gave no sign of the order, but instead disappeared as his active camo was turned on. 'Kanamee strode down the hallway with the rest; he was confident he'd have three less Humans to worry about.

      The heavy door closed with a slam and left the group in complete darkness. It was so dark that Strom couldn't even see his own hand in front of his face. Strom still held his S2, even though he knew it was foolish to do so. It would just feel wrong to him to not fight without the sniper rifle in his hands or slung over his back. He considered activating his night vision from the scope, but thought the better of it. Could Sami get him some lights in here? He decided that he'd better ask.
      "Sami? Sami? Crap, I guess we're either out of range or something with my radio's broke," Strom muttered. "One of you got a flashlight?"
      "Yeah," one of the voices responded. A light appeared on the end of the African's MA5B. It revealed the hallway in a splash of ghostly colored white light. It led to a dead end about twenty meters in front of them.
      "And you?" Strom asked again.
      "No, sorry. I got an M6D and a Plasma Pistol, though," replied the Oriental.
      "Grenades?"
      "One frag and two plasma."
      "Nope."
      "Great. Sami?" he asked one more time. "Sami?"

      "khzzzhza-ere."
      "What was that, Sami? I didn't copy that. Say again, over."
      Her voice came through clearer this time, though it was irate. "I said I'm here. I can get the door open here. Just hang on a second." About ten meters ahead of them, a section of the wall slid up into the ceiling.
      "All right, guys. Let's go." The group's footsteps echoed along the corridor as they advanced.
      Clack, clack, clack, cli-clack...

      Sami realized immediately what was happening. She tried to get a warning to them through the radio, but the Hacker, as though he were reading her mind, blocked all access. She screamed in frustration and began fighting tooth and nail for whatever systems she had left.

      Strom felt his muscles tense. That sound...it sounded like there were four pairs of footsteps instead of three. The Sergeant spun around quickly and stared with intensity, as though he were trying to make whatever was following them appear. He didn't see anything and forced himself to relax as he assured himself that, for all he knew, Flood couldn't use active camo. Plus, if they could, they would have taken him down as soon as he had entered the corridor. The Flood weren't smart enough to do anything stealthily. The trio walked into the armory, and Strom let out a long, low whistle. To his left was a rack of Plasma Grenades. Directly to the left of that were a row of locker-like storage units that must have contained something along the lines of a Fuel Rod Gun. Ahead were some Plasma Rifles and pistols that were also on a rack. To his wall was a computer terminal that looked like an inventory keeping system.
      An inventory, huh? Hmmm...Even with all this, we could still use some more guns... "Can either of you figure this thing out?" he asked his companions. Hernandez shrugged.
      "Well, I minored in computer science at Baylor. If I can tinker with it enough, I can mess around with it. Why?"
      "Because", Strom explained. "This will give us access to the inventory, I think. It'll be handy; we can know where and how much of each gun there is. Take it for a spin and see if you can't work some magic, Hernandez."
      Hernandez muttered something noncommittal, walked over and inspected the terminal. It wasn't complex. He hesitantly tapped a few of the symbols that functioned as a keyboard. Once he got a reaction, he became more aggressive.
      The PFC walked over and fiddled with the lock on the lockers. Strom himself was loading Plasma Rifles into his rucksack when he felt something wet and sticky hit him from behind, on his neck. He frowned and turned to ask just who had spit on him. As he turned clockwise, he froze. Hernandez was slumped over a very bloody console; blood flowed freely from the stump where his head and neck should have been. Those two items were rolling on the floor, away from the body.
      There hadn't even been a sound.

TO BE CONTINUED

Battle for the Norah: Part Thirteen
Date: 29 December 2003, 4:00 PM

      Where is it!? Where is it!? Strom silently screamed at himself. His eyes flew desperately around the armory in a fleeting attempt to find the silent assassin. Hernandez's head continued to roll away and tapped into the Oriental PFC's heel. The PFC jerked in surprise and stopped wrestling with the lockers long enough to glance down at his heel. He screamed, turned and drew his Plasma Pistol.
      "Shoot! Shoot! The bolts will home in on it!" the Sergeant yelled at the Private. The Oriental stood frozen; his eyes were wide and looked wildly for any sign that might give the assassin away. As he heard the tell-tale sound of a Plasma Grenade being primed, he quickly backed into the lockers.
      Straight into the trap.
      Strom shouted a warning, but it was too late. As though the phantom had read the human's mind, it had stuck the grenade to the lockers. When the PFC felt himself stick on the grenade and felt its heat, his eyes went wide. He knew instantly that there was no way to escape.
      He died before he could scream.
      The grenade detonated. The PFC's stomach and chest blew outward; guts, entrails and bone were blown into the opposite wall with a sickening splat. Strom held hope for the briefest of moments that the blood spray would outline the killer, but there was no such luck. The dead Oriental slid to the floor, with a gaping hole in his torso, in a pool of his own blood.
      It became absolutely quite, with only a distant hum of machinery and the whir of an air conditioner to make noise. Strom slung his S2 and drew his M6D sidearm. The rifle's accuracy and power wouldn't help him here, especially if the killer were a Flood form, be it a very smart one. He could hear his heart hammering in his ears and he began sweating heavily. His neck felt like volleyball had been shoved down it; he could barely breathe, and even his breathes came short and rapid. He had thought that saying that one's legs could feel like rubber was just an expression; he realized with alarm that it was true.
      A plan, he needed a plan.
      Both of them dead...both from behind...
      Instinct quickly backed him into the rack of Plasma Rifles and Pistols. He didn't feel any heat, so he knew he was alive for a few more seconds. He narrowed his eyes and looked into thin air as he willed the assassin to reveal itself. Realization sent adrenaline coursing though his system.
      No, no...I'm going about this all wrong. I'm looking up in the air. This guy's too good. There isn't even an active camo shimmer...
      As he saw the shimmer in his mind's eye, it reminded him of something. Waves? No, it wasn't that, something more subtle...
      Ripples?
      Strom lowered his eyes towards the pooling blood on the floor and let them slowly go out of focus. It helped him to see motion. Three seconds passed. Then...motion, near Hernandez's decapitated head. Strom swung the M6D into position above the puddle of blood and fired.
      The slug missed, but the assassin jumped out of the way and made a large splash in the blood. The Sergeant brought the pistol into line and shot again. Another miss, but the bullet passed close enough to cause the assassin's active camo to falter briefly.
      Strom drew a perfect bead, and held down the trigger for full automatic fire. Four bullets slammed into the Phantom, and were accompanied by a roar full of pain. A Plasma Sword ignited and it advanced towards the Sergeant, ready and more than willing to strike.
      It became a race. Strom tried to find the assassin's head for a fatal shot, but the bullets only impacted on its chest. Six more shots connected, and the active camo finally failed. The spec ops Elite was exposed. Dark colored blood gushed from multiple wounds in its chest. By all rights, it should have died.
      Should have. Strom pulled the trigger a final time...and heard a distinctive, metallic, click. The Elite roared and brought the Plasma Sword down and forward, as though he were punching the Sergeant in the gut.
      Strom felt the sword smash through his stomach and penetrate the wall. It barely missed his spinal cord. The Sergeant screamed; the pain was unbelievable, unlike anything he could imagine. He felt several of his ribs crack, and some broke in half. A lung collapsed and spots and stars appeared in his vision. Blood ran out of his body and over the sword like red wine. Molten metal from the wall ran across his back and caused second and third degree burns.
      The heat the sword created cauterized any wounds it opened; they were instantly sealed by dried blood. However, even as the sword closed off wounds, they were torn open by the immense heat. It created a constant cycle of pain. To Strom it felt as though a small, vicious animal was tearing him apart from the inside. His breaths came raggedly and his vision began to darken. He coughed up blood. He knew there was no chance that he would survive; he was finished.
      So, he resolved to take the Elite down with him. He let the useless M6D fall to the floor and slid his S2 down his arm. With the strength that his ragged body could muster for him, he shakily lifted the rifle and pointed it squarely at the Elite's head. It gaped in surprise and struggled to remove the sword from Strom's gut; unfortunately for him, it was still stuck in the wall. The Sergeant grinned unsteadily and muttered his last sentence.
      "Adios."
      He pulled the trigger.

      It left. Just like that, it left. Sami would have torn her hair out if she had any. The hacker had withdrawn once again. At least she could talk to Cunningham and the others again.
      She knew she had to report PFC Chang's, Private Hernandez's, and Staff Sergeant Jacob Strom's death...No, she couldn't do that. It would spark a small civil war between the alliance. That would be disastrous for both sides. Instead, she would have to spend her time eliminating the insurgent.
      She scanned the radio system and found that the hacker had left himself a backdoor. And another...and another...She deleted all that she found. The A.I. knew she would have to destroy this insurgent. It had taken three Human lives. Well, she had tried all of the options that would have helped her locate someone working at a console and come up blank. It was a long shot, but whoever it was must be working from a handheld...She skimmed across the wavelengths of the radio found a signal. No, two signals. Three, seven, sixteen.
      There were hundreds of signal echoes across the entire ship!!! The construct restrained her anger and began to sift through them.

Two minutes later...

      "So, what do you make of him?"
      "Which one?"
      "Goldilocks, there."
      "Oh, him? He who may very well be a load of sheet."
      "Yeah, that was my analysis, too, Sarge," chuckled Private Colin Thompson. Sergeant A.J. Johnson grinned back.
      "Well, I never trust them any further than I can throw 'em."
      "Which is about?"
      "Six feet." The two Marines laughed. Lieutenant Commander Cunningham glanced back over his shoulder at them. He was mulling over the problem of how to take out Flood in a room with zero gee...He knew that he couldn't just dash in there. That would be disastrous for he and his crew. All sorts of problems could erupt. He knew that they would have to push off of walls, ceilings and floors to get anywhere. It would be tricky to make precision jumps.
      But then again, perhaps the solution was not to go in at all...
      "Barnes," he hollered back to his second Sergeant. "You still got that rappelling equipment?"
      "Boss," Barnes whined. "Please tell me we're not going to rappel into the room..."
      "All right then. We're not going to rappel into the room."

Battle for the Norah: Part Fourteen
Date: 9 February 2004, 2:59 AM

      "Boss," Andrew Barnes groaned. "You said we weren't going to rappel into the Jackal quarters."
      "We are." Lieutenant Commander Cunningham answered. "But we aren't. Confused?"
      "Yes."

      The alliance of Humans and Covenant were outside the Jackal room. Though, under normal circumstances, it would have served as quarters for the Jackals, but the Flood were apparently using it as some sort of headquarters or base. Whatever it was that was in there, the Flood wanted to protect.
      And anything the Flood wanted to protect was worth destroying.

      "Allow me to clarify. My first plan is to frag them out until there's very few of them left. Failing that, we're going to hook three of us onto the ascenders as anchors, float partway into the room, and shoot them."
      "Then, if the first plan fails, we're still rappelling."
      "Technically yes, technically no."
      "What?" Andrew was truly vexed.
      "Well, fighting in a room with zero-gee is like fighting in space. There isn't any up or down. If you were to look at the Jackal room as you would at a dollhouse, we'd be coming in through the door and hanging in mid-air. If you look at it as a box with a hole in the top, we'll be hanging face-first, looking down. Does that make sense?"
      "No."
      Cunningham sighed. "Look, the moment I asked you for the gear, you knew that we were going to rappel in some way shape or form. Therefore, any hope that we weren't going to rappel was just self disillusionment. Do I make myself clear?"
      "That time," Barnes muttered, "it was all too clear."
      "Good. Sami?" When he got no response he continued with his request to the A.I.
      "Sami, if you can hear me, my plan is for us to prime some grenades and then throw them in there. Open the doors, and as soon as the last grenade is through, close them again. We'll wash, rinse and repeat as necessary." No sooner than had Cunningham said the last syllable on the word, "necessary" than the doors slammed open to reveal...
      A completely empty room. Cunningham stared for a full three seconds before moving. Where was the Flood? Oh, well. The further he was from the Flood, the better.
      The Jackal room was a large circle, and was dimly lit; almost exactly like twilight on Earth. Cunningham could barely make out that the floor was sloped downward to a point in the center of the chamber where a large, black disk resided. Or was it brown? He couldn't tell in these miserable lighting conditions. As he took in the room, there was a sudden humming, and the lights in the room came up to a more normal level of illumination. The disk was brown after all. It looked strangely like Flood-colored flesh. The lights must've been on an automated cycle. Or did they have motion sensors in here? If there had been any Jackals in the room, they would just be waking up. Or Sami just turned them on.
      Cunningham took the initiative and stepped into the room, fully expecting to bounce up and float in midair. Instead, he stayed solidly on the ground. Strange. Sami had said this room had no gravity, but he was still on the floor?
      This, as it turned out, was fortunate, because he was forced to throw himself face-first to the floor as what appeared to be a completely solid part of the wall in front of him exploded. Pieces of shrapnel hurled of his head and hit the wall behind him. Shouts and curses from different languages filled the air as everyone in the group tried to keep from being impaled by the larger pieces and figure out what happened.
      The Lieutenant Commander heard footsteps, looked up and was surprised to find that he was facing down another group of Covenant comprised mainly of Grunts and Jackals. A silver armored Elite, who Cunningham guessed was their leader stepped to the front of the group and yelled something incomprehensible at him. Great, they must've come through another security tunnel. He scrambled to his feet and backed up to 'Kanamee, who seemed as surprised and worried as he was.
      "Is this guy trouble?"
      "I believe you Humans have two words for this situation."
      "Oh? What are they?"
      "Uh and oh."

      'Kanamee knew he was right to worry. The leader the group opposite them was Sul 'Turralee. He was an absolute religious fanatic. He kept strict discipline over those he commanded and wouldn't stand for any kind of violation of the edicts the Prophets issued.
      Which, unfortunately, included partnering with Humans. Which was exactly what 'Kanamee was doing.
      However, instead of yelling at 'Kanamee he smiled.
      "Excellency, I see you were in the middle of slaughtering the infidels. I'm sorry to have interrupted. May I join with you?"
      "Certainly," 'Kanamee replied, quite shocked. Was 'Turralee an idiot? "However, there is one problem..." 'Kanamee said as he nervously shuffled his feet.
      "Oh? What is it?"
      "We need these Humans."
      'Turralee looked surprised for a moment and then laughed. It sounded like sandpaper being run over a washboard.
      "Funny, Excellency. Funny. Please, continue."
      "I am serious, 'Turralee. We cannot recapture the Norah from the Flood by ourselves. We must use the Human as pawns."
      This time, what 'Kanamee was saying finally hit 'Turralee. The Silver armored Elite didn't even let his expression change. His voice even remained neutral. He just raised the Plasma Rifle he held in his right hand and pointed it directly at 'Kanamee's head. "The Human to your side," 'Turralee ordered as he flicked the snout of the rifle towards Cunningham. "Kill him or I will fire."

      She felt stunned. She had used every trick she had known, everything she could think of. She had had the help of an Engineer, use of most of the Norah's systems.
      And yet the insurgent had still beaten her. She could feel it closing in on all sides...suppressing her, crushing her.
      She saw it enter the bridge. She showed her image on the hologram above the navigation console. Sami knew instantly who it was.
      "You," she hissed. She put as much malice as she could into her voice as it played out over the bridge's speakers. "You all along..." she made a sudden maneuver and tried to manipulate the radio so that she could warn Cunningham. She had to warn them about the traitor, but also about the terrible thing in the Jackal quarters that threatened to kill them, and what she had discovered in the brig that could lead to their salvation...but it cut off her access.
      It didn't bother with any preamble, but Sami knew what was coming. The Autumn's backup A.I. watched in horror as the insurgent began to copy her to its own files and erase her line by line at the same time. There was only one option left to her, and it was risky. It might save her from destruction at the insurgent's hands, but could delete her off as well.
      Quickly, she left instructions for the Engineer in the security center, modified her core coding, and desperately tried to contact Cunningham and the rest.

      This was not good.
      This was really not good.
      Ever so slowly, 'Kanamee raised his Fuel Rod Gun, and pointed it towards Cunningham. He heard dozens of metallic clicks behind him as the Humans cocked their weapons. 'Kanamee's heart skipped a beat as he heard the Private's Jackhammer being loaded, and felt the tip of the barrel on the back of his neck.
      That was getting rather old. He also heard hums as Covenant on both sides activated their weapons. Just what was he going to do? He was pinned down by both sides, and death awaited him either way. If he killed the Human commander, he would be destroyed within a second by the rocket launcher wielding Private or blown away by any number of the other Human weapons. The Human commander, himself, had his shotgun pointed directly at 'Kanamee's lower torso. If he didn't comply with 'Turralee's order soon, he would be killed by the other group of Covenant...
      "Well, Excellency, where is your sense of honor?" 'Turralee asked mockingly. "Your death will be mourned, but your memory will live on." So that was it, was it? 'Turralee knew exactly what kind of a position that 'Kanamee was in. He didn't care whether 'Kanamee died or not.
      "Where is your honor!?" 'Tarralee yelled again. It's been replaced by my innate sense of self-preservation, 'Kanamee thought as he swung the Fuel Rod Gun around, and brought it in line with 'Turralee.
      The Fuel Rod Gun kicked against his shoulder, and the trademark green fireball leapt away from 'Kanamee. It arced into the air and slammed directly into 'Turralee. The Elite didn't have time to scream. His shield overloaded and he was literally cooked as water in his muscles superheated and exploded, all thanks to the ball of flaming gas.
      Pandemonium ensued. A red-armored Elite that 'Kanamee didn't recognize screamed something at his underlings and they began to fire. The Humans didn't wait for any order, but the air was already filling with bullets and plasma.
      'Kanamee took a step backward and began to run...but his feet kicked against air. Someone had turned the gravity off! Thinking quickly, 'Kanamee took advantage of this as he was launched up into the air, fired his Fuel Rod Gun. The round landed in a group of Jackals and Grunts.
       He realized his mistake as the kickback spun him horizontally like a top. The force of the shot also threw him backward into the wall. He cursed as he rebounded off of it.
      He let go off the Fuel Rod Gun and it floated off. The kickback was too much of a liability. He washed it away from his mental process; it was of no concern now. Instead, he drew his Plasma Rifle. 'Kanamee drew himself up into a ball to make himself a smaller target; he thrust his Plasma Rifle between his legs and began firing without aiming.
      He heard a high pitched squeal as one of the plasma bolts flew straight and true and nailed a Grunt dead center in the chest. It flew backward and slammed into a Jackal's shield. 'Kanamee opened up on it, too, and the shield gave out. His next group of shots slammed into the Jackal that was backed up against a wall, and it jerked and writhed like a puppet whose strings were being yanked every which way.
      Despite the casualties, the other Covenant force kept advancing, some of them in the air, the others walking slowly so as to remain on the ground...but halted over the flesh-like circle in the middle of the floor. An instant later, 'Kanamee knew why. He slammed to the floor like so much dead weight and was surprised by the fact that he could barely breathe. Granted, he had just had the wind knocked out of him, but he could barely draw a breath. As a matter of fact, he could barely move; everything felt like he was weighed down by several tons. Someone had reversed the gravity again by a magnitude!
      Despite this, he could still see his opponents out of the corner of his eyes. The ones that had been in the air had already slammed onto the floor. One by one the ones that were still standing fell like lead towers. As the last one fell, there was a terrible sucking, ripping sound. The circle gave way along with everything on it, and it all disappeared into a void below.

Battle for the Norah: Part Fifteen
Date: 5 March 2004, 3:36 AM

      "Yikes," Cunningham muttered. "Looks to be about, what, forty meters?" Barnes nodded. "The only problem is," Cunningham continued, "that you can't tell whether it's up or down."
      "Agreed. Zero-g stinks," Barnes said as he grinned.
      It had been about five minutes since the second Covenant group had crashed through the covering in the center of the room. The alliance had only lost one Marine, two Jackals and a Grunt. Strangely enough, gravity reversed itself again, far more than creating zero-g. It actually created negative-g. That's why Cunningham and the rest were able to walk on the ceiling. 'Kanamee and Cunningham were letting their groups each take a break. Over to Cunningham's right was a group of four Marines sitting on the floor, or rather, ceiling, in a circle, playing poker. A Grunt stood on its toes in order to see over their shoulders as it tried to decipher the game.
      "That King, right?" it asked a burly Marine in its diminutive voice. The other three Marines traded glances.
      The Marine grimaced and muttered, "Maybe."
      "Those other four ace?" The other Marines instantly folded. The burly Marine turned beet red; Cunningham could tell that it was taking all of his self-restraint to not kill the alien. He must've had some money riding on the game.
      "Well," Cunningham said as he turned to 'Kanamee. The Elite seemed weary. Cunningham couldn't blame him after nearly being blown to bits by his own kind...but there was something else going on there, he could tell. "Shall we get moving? It's been what, five or ten minutes? The longer we wait..." 'Kanamee nodded. "Okay, break's over!" he yelled. There were complaints and curses muttered as the Marines gathered up their equipment. He motioned to Barnes. The Sergeant dipped into his rucksack and produced an ascender with a pleading look. Andrew breathed a sigh of relief when the Lieutenant Commander attached the ascender to the floor and hooked the D-ring to his belt.
      Barnes then groaned when Cunningham demanded he attach himself to one. He really, really hated rappelling, and Cunningham knew it. The El Tee Commander called Sergeant Johnson over. Johnson gladly accepted an ascender, and attached it to the ceiling. Barnes sighed after he latched himself on; he kicked off.

      Why him? They were heading right towards the last place that Kall 'Kanamee wanted to be right now. He might be able to make them bypass it...but it was a small chance. Plus, Harrak 'Dulamee, the commando Elite that he had sent to assassinate the group of three Humans had not returned. Though the Humans hadn't, either. That was a good sign. As long as the Humans didn't return, there was little to no chance of "Kunninghamm" finding out that he intended to kill them off soon.

      The room was dark. Pitch black as a matter of fact. The hole was deeper than Andrew had expected. The only light came from the top of the Jackal barracks, which were about sixty meters above he and the Lt. Commander. He felt his body become heavier. Had gravity been restored down here? Not that it mattered. He wanted to be out of here, anyway. It felt like he was being entombed.
      "Sir, it's too dark in here. Let's go back."
      "Not until we figure out what happened to the rest of those Covenant."
      "Sir, we could hear a massive firefight; they're dead. Let's go back."
      "I agree that they're gone, but I don't think it was from normal Flood."
      "Sir, if it's something that's more dangerous than the Flood, it's not smart to be down here. Let's go back."
      "Suck it up, wussy," Johnson chuckled.
      "Shut up," Cunningham growled. "Turn on your flashlight." Barnes gave a sound that was halfway between a sigh, a groan, and an animal wail. But he flipped the light on the end of his AR anyway.
      The ghostly beam fell on gore. Lots of it. Multicolored at that. Barnes swung it to the right. More gore, more colors. Then his beam fell on something that he couldn't take his eyes off of.
      "Sir, you...uh...you'd better take a look at this."
      "Hold on, I'm looking at something else right now. I can't tell exactly what it is, but it looks like an Elite torso without any arms or legs...and I don't want to think of how that happened."
      "Sir, I'm telling you..." Cunningham sighed.
      "All right, all right..." Cunningham rotated around and followed Barnes's flashlight beam. "Okay," he said, his voice oddly flat. "What is that?" The flashlight beam had fallen on something huge. Cunningham estimated it to be twenty feet wide by thirty feet high. Plus, it looked like it was made out sickly colored Flood skin like the floor covering above had been . This naturally was not a good thing. There was a large, gash that was oozing a foul-smelling, brown colored liquid.
      "Looks like a giant zit," Sergeant Johnson commented. "What do you think it is, some kind of nursery? Where they hatch Infection Forms?"
      Cunningham shook his head. "Sergeant, we don't know how the Flood reproduce. For all we know, they spawn. But, that theory is as good as any, I suppose." Johnson directed the flashlight on the front of his Assault Rifle at the floor in front of the object. There was a Jackal. Crushed flat. There wasn't more than a millimeter of Jackal on that floor.
      "I thought they was ugly when they were just dead. But crushed?" Johnson murmured. "I need a new rating for this on my weird crap-o-meter...what's that sound?"
      "Sound?" Cunningham and Barnes asked in unison.
      "Yeah, sound. It sounds like a grinding�" Then Johnson was cut off as light exploded into the chamber. "What the�?!" Johnson spun himself around, winced in the harsh light and raised his AR to fire on any Flood that might enter...but none did. A door that was, once again, flush with the wall had opened to reveal a hallway with a vaulted ceiling. "Okay, this is scoring about a seven on that meter..." He grinned. "Hey, as long as we haven't got any Flood, no worries, right?" Cunningham and Barnes nodded. Barnes seemed genuinely relieved...

      A few minutes later, the rest of the group was down at the bottom. In front of the door to the environment control center, as a matter of fact. The door in the Jackal room had led to a large, tall hallway with a number of doors. The doorway to the environment room had large writing above it, which caused 'Kanamee to say that it was, indeed, the environment control center. The entire group was happy at the disappearance of the Flood. With the exception of Cunningham. Secretly, Cunningham was getting worried. No Flood? That couldn't be right. Couldn't be at all. Plus, that door had slid open without any help from Sami. Or maybe she had done it on her own initiative. But that seemed out of character for her.
      The hallway seemed larger, too. Plus, it was, as usual, streaked with gore...but more so than normal. It was making Cunningham nervous as well. He felt small, insignificant. He shook his head. He couldn't let his nervousness get to him now. Not in front of his men. They would lose confidence in him, and that would be unacceptable. He was shaken out of his train of thought as the door to the environment center opened.
      He felt his stomach get queasy. Another door had opened without any requests to Sami. This was getting too weird. He sighed and stuffed his fears into a less noticeable portion of his stomach and walked into the environment control center with the rest of the group. His first impression was of a large, cavernous structure. It was huge. Sqaure, like the engine room. Unlike the usual Covenant art aesthetic, this room was full of pipes. They lined the walls, blanketed parts of the floor. Computer consoles where everywhere.
      The feeling in his stomach became more insistent. His instincts yelled at him to get out, but why should he? He had an objective to accomplish, and it would probably save them all. The air conditioning system had to be kicked into high gear so they could filter out Flood spores. Once enough spores had been inhaled by a victim, they caused paralysis, at least temporarily. It was a mechanism the Flood used to make their hosts easier to infiltrate. Cunningham glanced at his watch. Two hours ago, just after the Humans had used their Warthogs and Scorpions to lure as many Flood out of the Norah and destroy them, Spark had told him about the spores, and that it would be about five hours until they began to take effect. It stood to reason that it would work more quickly inside the cruiser since it was an enclosed space.
      The watch said that it had only been two hours since that had happened. There was plenty of time. The Lt. Commander felt his stomach relax a bit at the good news. He was right here where he could shut off a major threat without any trouble. What was there to worry�
      There was a computer screen on the far right of a bank set in the wall that suddenly snapped on, and blasted with static and an earsplitting squeal. Cunningham felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. His stomach began churning again, twice as hard as before. He walked over to it, and the static gradually resolved itself into a picture.
      It was Sami. Her normally colorful appearance had become as white as a sheet. Her expression was flat. Cunningham watched as a single logic symbol traveled up from her combat boots, snaked up her leg, and finally disappeared as it crossed through her head. In a voice that made Cunningham's blood turn to ice, she said with her completely blank face:
      "Run."

Battle for the Norah: Part Sixteen
Date: 3 April 2004, 3:40 AM

      The screen reverted to static, and Sami disappeared. Cunningham was surprised to realize that he had been holding a breath. He let it out slowly and inhaled deeply. That had scared the wits out of him. What was the point of that anyway? Sami was a ship A.I., and she wouldn't be able to find the ability to pull a prank like this.
      That and the fact that Sami had opened the doors without his permission or opened them with a bust of static...He had to get a hold of her. He keyed his radio.
      "Sami? Sami, are you there?" Only static answered him. Was the signal simply not getting through? Or was something seriously wrong? He hoped it was the former. He had to get though to her. Retrying the radio probably wouldn't yield and results, so that left boosting the signal, a ludicrous task in its own right. What was he going to do, wrap tinfoil around the boom mike? No, that wasn't a possibility. Was there another way? Maybe he could get Spark...
      Cunningham snapped his fingers. Of course! It was so obvious now. All he had to do was get Guilty Spark to relay the signal or something. He turned around. "Spark, I need for you..." He trailed off as his eyes scanned across the room. "Anybody seen Spark?" he said aloud. Marines shrugged. Most shook their heads. 'Kanamee barked an order and the Covenant answered him in their own tongues. 'Kanamee turned around to Cunningham and shook his head. Cunningham found it strange that 'Kanamee would pick up a very Human gesture.
      But still, Spark was no where to be found. Why hadn't Cunningham used him before? He should have asked Spark to help Sami destroy, track down or at least block the insurgent...Suddenly, everything clicked into place. Cunningham cursed." I really, really hate that robot," he muttered right as a bloodcurdling roar echoed off of the pipes.

      343 Guilty Spark, the monitor of instillation 04, hummed to himself as he finished erasing the annoying Human artificial intelligence construct. That had been far too easy. The Human artificial intelligence construct had almost seemed to have been pre-occupied. He floated in place for a moment on the bridge as he examined the code. Oh, how he was going to enjoy every moment of categorization, organization, dissection, reconstruct�. He halted his joy subroutine. That was odd. A subdirectory in the Human's artificial intelligence construct seemed to be mutating. It constantly changed is address within the larger directory. Odd, indeed. He tried to access it, but received an error message.
      ERROR: #2401 ACCESS IS DENIED. WARNING; THIS FILE MAY HAVE ONE OR MORE READ/WRITE ERRORS. DELETE IMMEDIATELY. How unfortunate. Spark took the error message at its word and tried to erase the subdirectory.
      ERROR: #147 CANNOT DELETE FILE. ACCESS IS DENIED. WARNING; THIS FILE MAY HAVE ONE OR MORE READ/WRITE ERRORS. DELETE IMMEDIATELY. Puzzling. Almost exactly the same error message. Hmm. Well, if he couldn't erase it from its immediate source, he could erase it another way. Spark copied the subdirectory to his own system. He started to erase it�but stopped. Perhaps this had been what the Human's artificial intelligence construct had been pre-occupied with? Spark had always been intrigued by mystery, so he set to work on trying to access it.
      He spun off a small program to constantly change the directory to match the subdirectory's address. There, that should do it. He accessed it. Very odd. There was only one file...such a shame. Spark opened it.
      It had the extension .exe, which meant it was a program instead of a text or picture file...but something was wrong with it. He was surprised to find that the file contained multiple dead ends and infinite loops. When he had looked at the Human artificial intelligence construct's code, it was inelegant and brutish, but at least it was functional. He made a tsking noise. How foolish could the Humans be? He corrected the errors and ran the program.
      He was surprised to see the Human artificial intelligence construct appear in front of him again. Had he resurrected it by mistake? No, of course not. The file was much to small. It spoke: "Spark, if you're watching this, you're a tremendous fool. You're system files are being deleted even as this movie is playing. Oh, and I imagine you'd like to meet an old friend...or at least part of her. She's left Halo, of course. Her name is Cortana. The small part of herself that she's left behind will quickly eat away at you. Have a nice day." Spark was stunned as Cortana's image also appeared before him. The two images of the A.I.'s then proceeded to give him a tremendously rude hand gesture.
       Then part of the program terminated. With horror, Spark realized that his system files were indeed being deleted! He scrambled to block the virus, but it was spreading far too quickly for him to stop. He felt sheer terror as the virus snaked its way into his core code.
      With a twitch, 343 Guilty Spark, the monitor of instillation 04 crashed. His entire system shut down as necessary files and folders disappeared from the Human A.I.'s trickery. He fell to the floor of the bridge.

      Cunningham felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as he spun around to find the source of the roar. Whatever it was had was had stepped out from around a bank of pipes in the corner of the room. When Cunningham saw it, he almost lost control of his bowels.
      It could have come straight from the darkest depths of hell: it was huge and could have easily been nine meters tall. It was covered in sickly, puckering, oily green flesh that looked to have the texture of leather. Armor plates that looked to be as big as a Hunter's covered is from head to toe, but only emerged from below the skin in a few places. It roared again. The creature somehow managed to combine a deep, bass rumble with a high pitched scream. Its mouth was about a yard wide and had a set of razor sharp, serrated teeth. It faced directly towards them and became as still as a statue.
      Nobody, Human or Covenant alike moved. No one breathed. No one said a word, except for Corporal Locklear who expelled a long, breathy, heartfelt expletive. Cunningham heartily agreed. "Okay," he said; his voice was barely above a whisper. "Everyone back away slowly. I'm hoping that thing has bad eyesight. Maybe we can sneak out without us noticing it and�" Cunningham grimaced as he heard the whine of a plasma pistol firing.
      He heard a Grunt half scream "Run!" The green bolt of arced across the bay and hit the monster. Oh, Cunningham thought to himself. The voice in his head was strangely calm. Crap. That thing is almost four times larger than you are. It looks like it has impenetrable armor and its skin looks almost as tough. Plus, it's Flood. It is going to come over here and kill us.
      The monster roared again and charged. Cunningham screamed. He fired his M90 shotgun as rapidly as he could. Every being in the room fired at the monstrosity. Bullets bounced off of the thick armor. Plasma hit it and left a slight burn, but did no serious damage. "RETREAT!!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. The group turned around and ran.
      Cunningham realized more things as they ran. Not only had Spark cut off communications, he had led them into this. Also, the big zit-like cocoons they had found in the Jackal quarters must have been used to grow or breed this thing. He pointed his shotgun over his shoulder and fired again. The Lieutenant Commander chanced a look over his shoulder.
      The beast was faster than Cunningham would have guessed. It had almost caught up with them. Cunningham sprinted through the large doorway, heard a crack, and instinctively ducked. It was fortunate that he did; I Grunt that looked like it had nearly been smashed flat and was trailing methane flew past his ear. He looked up again. Both Private Thompson and the other Jackhammer wielding Marine had been in the back of the group and had gotten the furthest.
      "Get going, get going!" Thompson yelled as he pointed towards an open door to his left. Cunningham nodded as he sprinted through the large doorway. The two kneeled lifted their rocket launchers and fired once. The pair of rockets streaked across the room with a roar that seemed puny compared the beast's shriek.
      Cunningham felt his heart leap as the two rockets slammed into the beast. Two craters appeared in the beast's chest. The monster nearly fell over. It stumbled into the wall. The Lieutenant Commander lost his footing and fell face first to the deck as the floor shook violently. He quickly got his legs under himself and looked back. The beast shouldered his way off of the wall and continued towards the group. Colin and the other Marine cursed and ran towards the room. Cunningham turned and kept running.
      A second shockwave knocked him off of his feet yet again. He rolled over and looked over his chest. One of the Jackhammer wielding Marines had been vaporized by the aberration's fuel rod gun and left only a pile of ashes on the floor. The other lay face-down. The beast stepped over the fallen Marine and advanced into the room.
      Cunningham got to his feet again. The room he was in had a solid left wall. Directly in front of him was a weapons locker filled with plasma pistols and rifles. The right wall was punctuated by panels of large, purple energy. They looked to be about seven feet high and ten feet wide. He couldn't tell what was on the other side of the energy. The entire group was in the room. Several Marines and Covenant were already shooting. Cunningham spotted a control panel next to each of the energy panels. He knew that they would have to get inside these things and reactivate the shields to save everyone. He slammed his fist into every button, but the plasma shield remained.Out of frustration, he shot it with his M90. The wall of energy next to it immediately fizzled and died. Several Marines stood inside.

Battle for the Norah: Part Seventeen
Date: 2 May 2004, 6:18 PM

      Lieutenant Commander Cunningham stood slack jawed for a split second as the Marines in the plasma cell stared back. How in blazes had they gotten in there? For some reason, the absurdity of the situation hit him: Here he was, on a facility that was hundreds of thousands of years old, fighting alongside beings that were enemies a day ago and fighting against a bunch of motley skinned freak shows and an insane, ancient artificial intelligence. Now he was on the only piece of said facility that could support life, on an alien cruiser, in a detention center where a few beat up looking Marines were, and being chased by a monstrosity that wouldn't have looked out of place in a science fiction movie.
      The Hunter Killer's blood-curdling roar brought him back to reality. He swung around the edge of the large doorway and reloaded his shotgun. A Marine from the cell yelled an obscenity as he caught sight of the twenty-nine foot tall behemoth.
      "Shoot it!" Cunningham yelled. The Marines dashed into the group of Humans and Covenant and grabbed any weapon they could from fallen allies. The El Tee Commander finished reloading and swung back into the pandemonium. The M90 assault shotgun kicked against his shoulder twice, and two sets of eight-gauge buckshot smacked into the mindless juggernaut.
      The Hunter Killer continued to advance into the room. It crushed a Jackal underfoot and kept coming. Cunningham fired his M90 into the next cell's control panel and freed a second set of Marines. They didn't hesitate to dive into the chaos. A loud buzzing sound caused Cunningham to look over his shoulder and back at the monster.
      Its advance was slowing. The firestorm that the alliance was putting forth was beginning to take its toll. In what must have been a move of desperation, it raised its Fuel Rod Gun. Dark green energy formed inside of it as it prepared to fire.
      Two words entered Cunningham's mind: Uh-oh.
      He dove into the cell that had held the Marines that he had just freed. The ball of plasma came so close that Cunningham could feel blisters form on the back of his neck and saw part of his left sleeve catch on fire. He screamed in pain as he hit the floor and swatted at the flames in an attempt to put them out.

      Kall 'Kanamee closed his eyes and turned his head away as the ball of plasma detonated near the back of the group. Even through his eyelids, the explosion was spectacular. When he opened his eyes again, there were wild spots in his vision, though he could see that a Human had been blown in half and a Grunt had exploded like an overripe fruit. The Elite shook his head to clear his vision and swung his Fuel Rod Gun into line with the Hunter Killer. It looked like it was really starting to hurt. Its steps were less confident, and it even stumbled. One shot from 'Kanamee's Fuel Rod Gun would finish it off. 'Kanamee allowed himself a small smile as he pulled the trigger.
      And nothing happened.
      Great. Just when it was needed the most, his Fuel Rod Gun had given out. He discarded it to the floor and drew his plasma rifle. It failed to power up. Fury that had been a long time in coming suddenly exploded inside of him. Here he was, having to cooperate with beings that should have been his mortal enemy and his stupid weapons failed!
      Another buzzing sound that characterized a Fuel Rod Gun preparing to fire caused him to realize that the Hunter Killer had its weapon pointed straight at him. His shame at joining together with the Humans momentarily forgotten, the Elite felt immense pride swell within him as he remembered the warrior tradition of his race. None of his forefathers would have died without a fight against this beast.
      He grabbed the only weapon he had left: his plasma sword.
      Though he knew it was suicidal, he didn't care. The sword snapped to life with a small thunderclap and 'Kanamee charged. The Fuel Rod Gun fired, but the golden armored Elite dodged the round easily as he leaped to the side. It exploded too far behind him to slow him down. 'Kanamee continued along the wall for another ten yards before he brought his feet up and used friction to run a meter upwards on the wall.
      He kicked with his right leg and let out an ancient battle cry: the Martyrs Prayer. It was one passed down from the ancients for those who were going to give their life to destroy an enemy. The Elite brought the sword back as far as he could while flying through the air, and slammed the blade--up to the hilt--into the Hunter Killer's belly.
      The creature screamed in pain as the sword burned away layers of flesh and armor. 'Kanamee snapped the sword off so that he wouldn't have to struggle to bring the blade back out and clawed his way further up the beast. Fire from the alliance didn't lessen. It only intensified as more Humans were freed from the plasma cells. All along, 'Kanamee had been hoping to keep the location of the Human prisoners secret; if the Human commander had known about them, he probably would have killed the Covenant off.
      It was of little concern now. Taking down this monstrosity had become the priority. The occasional bullet and plasma bolt hit his shields and nearly knocked 'Kanamee from his place on the aberration but he dug his claws deeper. Every few seconds as he clawed up the tower of flesh, 'Kanamee re-ignited his sword and plunged it deep in the monster. The Hunter Killer shook itself violently to throw 'Kanamee off, but by then it was too late.
      'Kall Kanamee had reached the beast's shoulders. With a final cry, 'Kanamee ignited the plasma sword, the chosen weapon of the ancients themselves, and slammed the holy blade into the top of the Hunter Killer's head. To 'Kanamee's great surprise it did not die immediately. Instead it groggily tried to swipe the Elite off of its head. It must have had its central nervous system in a different place or it was spread out. 'Kanamee dodged the first swipe from the shield arm, and nearly dodged the Fuel Rod Gun as it whipped over the monster's shoulder.
      He wasn't quick enough, and the weapon caught him with a glancing blow. The Elite fell thirty feet to the ground and felt the air leave his lungs. His shields flashed as they struggled to recharge themselves from the impact. 'Kanamee retained his consciousness, however, as the beast moved to crush him under its foot. But for some reason, 'Kanamee realized he wasn't afraid. He had fulfilled his duty. Today, he would gladly go to paradise.
      But now was apparently not the appointed time. A 102 millimeter shaped charge exploded on the Hunter Killer's back, accompanied along with sounds that 'Kanamee associated with bones fracturing and snapping in two at the same time. The Hunter Killer's foot slammed down just in front of the Elite and was clearly dying when a second rocket slammed into the Hunter Killer's back. The rocket didn't detonate immediately; instead, it traveled a full yard into the monster's body before exploding.
      With a final scream, the Hunter Killer toppled. 'Kanamee rolled out of the way to the left, and the beast fell to the floor with bone jarring force.
      It looked like Kall 'Kanamee was going to be stuck in the physical plane for a while longer.

      Beyond the door was a smoking Jackhammer rocket launcher wielding, kneeling Private Colin Thompson. He knew that luck had brought the monster down and not his skill. The creature's central nervous system must have been along the spinal cord. Thompson exhaled deeply to calm his nerves. His flesh was tender along his right arm. It had been given the equivalent of a sunburn by the Fuel Rod Gun round. The other Jackhammer wielding Marine, Corporal Rafael Mitsuba, had been reduced to dust by it.
      Colin reloaded his launcher and walked into the room. Every one was breathing heavily. The Grunts were wheezing in their high-pitched voice and squeaking curse words that they had learned from the Humans. Some of the Humans traded high fives and let out whoops. The private walked over to Cunningham, who, though he was grinning warily, looked absolutely exhausted. Thompson couldn't blame him; he felt exactly the same way.
      "Well, sir," Thompson said as he approached the Lieutenant Commander. "What know?"
      "Well, I thought I'd order some Chinese take-out," Cunningham deadpanned. Thompson smiled at the poor joke. He knew it wasn't that funny, but he didn't care. Anything that would keep his good humor up was fine, no matter how stupid it was.
      "Actually, I thought we'd get back to the security center. We left the backup crew there, and I thought we might be able to figure out what happened to Sami."
      Thompson raised an eyebrow. "You think that something's happened to her?"
      "I'm positive!" Cunningham spat. Both of Thompson's eyebrows went up. "I'm sorry," Cunningham muttered as he leaned back up against a wall. "It's just that the past few hours have really rubbed me raw. If you really want to know what happened to Sami, I think it's Spark."
      Thompson's eyebrows knitted as he mulled the idea over. "Makes sense. Doors opening with no message from Sami, the gravity changing...it all fits. So, back to my first question: what next? We head back to the security center, right?"
      "No, actually. We don't move a muscle."
      "What are you talking about? It's not like there's a..." Thompson trailed off as he realized what Cunningham was saying. The room had gone deathly quiet. "...A...second one." Slowly, Thompson turned his neck and looked back over his shoulders.
      A second Hunter Killer stood in the doorway to the cellblock.
      Almost indiscernibly, every being in the room readied their weapons. Clips being loaded made almost no sound, and plasma rifles and pistols mutedly hummed to life.
      It turned out to be a waste of effort, because a blast door that was at least a meter thick slammed down onto the second Hunter Killer's head. The monster struggled
against the heavy door, but the alliance released a firestorm. Thompson shouldered his Jackhammer and let loose with another two rockets. The beast wilted under the fire, and the door crushed it. It let loose and ear-splitting screech. It writhed between the door and floor as it was choked of breathable air. With a gurgling sound, it died beside its brother.
      Thompson grinned. That one had been too easy. "Sorry about taking so long to get back to you," a female voice cooed in their ears. "But its kind of hard coming back from the dead." Thompson's grin grew wider.
      Sami was back.

Battle for the Norah: Part Eighteen
Date: 28 May 2004, 10:28 PM

      "Sorry about taking so long to get back to you, but it's kind of hard coming back from the dead." With that sentence, Lieutenant Commander Paul Cunningham's day got a lot brighter. He keyed his radio and spoke into his boom mike.
      "It's about time," he said in a faux angry voice. He put as much growl into it as he could. "Where have you been? My men and were all but crushed by overpowering gravity, almost annihilated by a Hunter that was nearly ten meters tall, and I was nearly made into a Human flambé by that monster's Fuel Rod Gun!" He paused for a moment and then added: "So�how was your day?"
      He could tell that Sami was clearly amused, despite the fact that she was nothing more than lines of code. "Oh, just fine if you consider fighting off 343 Guilty Spark, worrying myself halfway to deletion and 'death' by being erased line by line relaxing."
      He smiled. "Happy holidays to you, too. I take it that you've eliminated Spark?"
      "If I hadn't I wouldn't be here right now. Since he was copying me before erasing me, all I needed to do was use the portion of herself that Cortana left behind to plant a viral bomb in my coding and draw his attention to it. It worked perfectly. The moron opened the file and the virus spread throughout his system in less than a millisecond. I made it as painful as possible. Sheesh, you should see what this maniac kept in his files and how he ran. There was a recording script in the bomb, so I could tell how he reacted to it."
      Cunningham looked around the room before saying, in a stage whisper, "Did he pee on himself?"
      He heard Sami laugh, but it sounded hollow for some reason. "I do believe he shot his trousers. But I've got something more important to tell you."
      Paul Cunningham became concerned. "About what exactly, Sami?"
      "Multiple things," she muttered. "Hold on, I do believe I need to commence a little bit of jamming." Cunningham was clueless. Just what does she mean by jamming, he thought to himself. He got his answer a split-second later as dozens of hands went flying to their helmets. Sami had somehow created a feedback loop, which was the equivalent of shoving a gym whistle down someone's ear. Marines yelled "Mute!" with various expletives attached.
      "There, that should do it," she commented. Cunningham wondered how on Earth Sami had managed to knock everybody's eardrums out but had left his own left untouched. "Okay, first things first: the Marines that were in the brig were in several lifeboats that landed downspin of you. When the Norah came to investigate the climate control, teleportation grid and its power, it captured them, thinking they would be valuable for learning about Human tactics. They fought for a few minutes, but they were quickly overpowered."
      "As for Pierce Hudson. The Flood have somehow transformed him into a monster similar to a Hunter Killer but not quite as strong."
      Cunningham sighed. Just perfect; another hulking monster.
      "Though, strangely enough, it doesn't seem like the Flood want to use him for combat. They're using his body as a kind of command post, apparently. He's no direct threat, but I thought you would like to know about it. Second, Staff Sergeant Jacob T. Strom is dead, and PFC Chang and Private Hernandez have been killed in action."
      Cunningham visibly jerked from surprise. "All three of them?" he whispered. "How?"
      "'Kanamee sent a spec ops Elite equipped with active camo after them into the armory. It killed Hernandez by decapitation and Chang with a plasma grenade. Strom was run through with a plasma sword, but he took it out with his last dying act; firing his S2 rifle directly into its brain. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier, sir. I wanted to keep a civil war from occurring between us and the Covenant."
      "Great, just great. Did he do anything else?"
      "No, sir; nothing. The Hunter Killer and ambush in the Jackal quarters weren't his doing. All of that was Spark's."
      "Thank you, Sami." Cunningham took several deep breaths and then turned around. He was going to give 'Kanamee a chance to surrender. The Humans outnumbered the Elite's forces nearly two to one since they had freed the Marines from the brig. Unfortunately, he never got the chance.

      From the Human's body language, Kall 'Kanamee could tell that he knew about Harrak 'Dulamee. The Human commander visibly stiffened as he received the news from his artificial intelligence construct. That was fine with the Elite; he was sick of compromises, sick of his shame at joining with the Humans. He'd had it.
      The golden armored Elite snapped his wrist downward and ignited the plasma sword that he had used to help take down the Hunter Killer. There was no chance to kill them off one by one now, but he didn't care. Since the Human knew, it was everything or nothing, because he'd surely try to destroy the Covenant forces onboard the ship.
      There were several Humans between him and the Human commander. 'Kanamee didn't care. His large, powerful legs propelled him forward and he cleaved the first Human in half. The next one met its death as he swung his sword in a wide arc from left to right; the holy blade cut the Human into two pieces as its torso was separated from its midsection.
      "Kunninghamm" had begun to turn at the sound of the sword igniting and he had fully turned around by the time 'Kanamee had reached him. The Human brought his primitive, multiple projectile weapon up as he attempted to target the Elite. He fired too soon; the small, ball-shaped projectiles hit 'Kanamee's legs, but failed to destroy his shield.
      Chaos was immediate as both sides reacted to the surprise and possibly suicidal move by the Elite. Grunts screamed and Jackals ducked behind their shields as the Humans opened fire. One of the other Elite in the group was caught in a five-Human crossfire and danced like a marionette with its strings being yanked by a mad puppet master.
      The projectiles from the Human's gun did slow 'Kanamee down enough to where he was a few feet short of a perfect kill distance. He swung his sword at an angle that was designed to separate the Human's head from its shoulders. It was smart, though and fell to the floor. The sword missed, and 'Kanamee felt his anxiety jump several notches, not just from missing, but the fact that there was a rocket launcher wielding Human right behind it. The Elite realized who it was: the same Human who had constantly menaced him with a rocket launcher, and had prevented him from killing the Human commander back in the engineering room.
      The Human grinned as a rocket was launched nearly point-blank at 'Kanamee's stomach. The impact knocked the air out of his lungs. Instead of exploding like the rocket should have, though it carried the Elite on its nose. On a pillar of fire, 'Kanamee was carried to his death; he fell off of the nose as he flew across the room and clear into the hallway. His momentum carried him into the wall and he slid to the floor. The monstrous 102-millimeter shaped charge exploded above his head.
      The explosion missed the Elite entirely, but it decimated the wall and sent hundreds of pounds of rubble crashing down on him. There was no movement from under the rubble.
      The battle was short, but intense. The Grunts and Jackals were massacred quickly. Only one private was killed as a Jackal managed to shoot him from behind its shield.
      Total elapsed time: forty-five seconds.

      The young naval pilot shook her head. She didn't know what was wrong either. She leaned against the doorjamb and sighed. Her eyes traveled across the docking bay again. Banshees were lined up on the right wall, and Seraphs and the U-shaped dropships the Covenant used were held in anti-gravity fields on the left. Sami had told them to report to the docking bay and wait for further orders. That had been nearly half an hour ago. Another pilot had come with her, Warrant Officer Eric Harrison.
      Warrant Officer Polaski didn't know what to think of him. He had been extremely aloof on the Pillar of Autumn and had stayed away from the other squadron members, though everyone had made every effort to be friendly. Just what was this guy's problem, anyway?
      He had come with her off of the Autumn when Foehammer had everyone launch his or her birds. He was a surprisingly good shot with the standard issue M6D sidearm; but then again, so was she. They had fought their way to her Pelican, Sierra 852, and launched. They had no clue as to where any of the others had gone. Their only mission was to survive and find the others. On their third night on Halo, Covenant troops discovered them and captured them in their sleep. They were held with the backup bridge crew in that blasted hole in the wall until Cunningham and the others had rescued them.
      Finally, her radio crackled; it was Sami again. "Sorry about the wait, but there was some business I had to take care of first. What I need you to do is commandeer a few Banshees and secure some supplies. Believe it or not, what the Covenant try to pass off as food could kill you. Or at least make you violently ill. Possibly even give you gas. A few Marines are coming for support. Wait for them and then get the supplies as fast as possible. I've done some analysis lately of where this piece of Halo is headed�" she trailed off.
      "Well? Where's it headed?" Polaski's eyelashes jumped. Stone face had just spoken, and he sounded irked.
      "The orbit's decaying. On the completion of this orbit, Threshold's gravitational pull will be to great and this piece of Halo will be sucked right into it."
      "And, uh�just how much time is that?" Harrison spoke again.
      "About another twenty minutes." Polaski unconsciously set the timer on her digital watch, an old pilot's habit. "The supplies will be located near where Cunningham and the rest of them first touched down, which , surprisingly, is only two and a half kilometers down spin of where you last left your Pelican. Good luck."
      No sooner had Sami finished saying "Good luck" than five Marines walked in. She recognized one man immediately: Sergeant Avery Johnson. He had a length of what appeared to be the Covenant version of rope. It looked extremely strong, yet almost liquid-like. It carried the same tint of purple that the Norah had. A corporal, and four privates walked in right behind the Sergeant. Johnson wasted no time. "Well now, who might this lovely young woman be?" he said in a smooth voice. Polaski was surprised. She'd expected him to say something macho like, "Let's get this over with, shall we?" Or "Oh, goody. We got a girl in pink flying us out."
      "You're navy, but I suppose I can't hold that against you," he continued. Harrison cleared his throat.
      "Let's get this over with, shall we? We've only got twenty minutes."
      "Fine, fine," Johnson relented. He winked, stepped back and lit a cigar. Polaski raised an eyebrow and then pulled out a cigar of her own and lit it.
      The smell completely overpowered Johnson's. Harrison actually retched as she blew the smoke out of her nostrils.
      "C'mon, the sooner we get this over with, the better. I really hate flying," the Corporal muttered. He spun on his heel and marched towards the Covenant craft.
      "Quit your whining, Locklear," Johnson laughed. "Don't throw up in that thing."
      One by one, they boarded the Banshee of their pick. Johnson was the last to board. Almost as an afterthought, he flicked the cigar to the floor. He hadn't even been able to taste the darn thing because of overpowering nature of Polaski's cigar. The Sergeant started to rub it out with his foot, thought the better of it, and jumped on it instead. Worthless piece of crap.
      He climbed in. The controls were odd. There were two joysticks, and there was no throttle to be seen. There was, however, a stripe of a smooth material built into the control panel. Out of curiosity, Johnson felt it with his hand. He looked up in time to realize that the Banshee he was flying had shot across the bay and was headed straight for a Seraph. The only thing Johnson could think off was: Oh, crap.

Battle for the Norah: Part Nineteen
Date: 23 June 2004, 7:01 PM

      Oh, boy, Johnson thought as the Banshee sped toward the Seraph. Quickly, he slapped the stripe of smooth material again and grappled with the two joysticks. It wasn't enough, however, as the Banshee skidded across the floor, missed the Seraph by three feet, and hit the wall at full steam. It stopped immediately, and Johnson smacked his face into the control panel. He cursed and rubbed his nose.
      "You, uh, need a little 'crash course' in Banshee control, Sergeant?" Polaski teased over the radio.
      "No," Johnson answered tersely. "I crash just fine. What I need is a minute to figure out this alien piece of crap that they call a flying machine!"
      "Right, right," Polaski said, a chuckle still evident in her voice. "Well then, shall we get going? Oh, and before you haul off and do something stupid, Sergeant, you push the right stick forward to go down. You pull it back to go up."
      "Shut up," Johnson muttered as one by one, the Banshees floated out of the bay.

       It was over. It was finally over. All of the Covenant lay dead at long last. Cunningham smiled and laughed as he leaned up against the wall. Spark had been deleted; the Hunter Killers were dead, one crushed, the other with a shattered spinal cord; and finally, Kall 'Kanamee was buried under several hundreds pounds of rubble. Things couldn't get better.
      "Okay, Sami, let's get off of this rock, shunt the atmosphere, and get back to Earth." Sami made a small sound in surprise.
      "Oh no."
      Cunningham suddenly felt the same feeling in his gut that he had gotten when getting near the Hunter Killer in the environmental control room. Something was definitely wrong...again.
      The smile melted of f of the Lieutenant Commander's face. "Great. What now?"
      "Commander," Sami said, her voice still aghast. "Some of the bridge crew and Marines are missing. And I can't find their biomonitors on this ship."
      "Who's missing?"
       Sami's tone was worried and apologetic at the same time. "Warrant Officers Harrison and Polaski, Sergeant Johnson, Corporal Locklear and three other Marines are missing as well. I don't know what happened. They must've left right before the second Hunter Killer came. That gave them a time of about five minutes. I was too busy rebuilding myself to look for them."
      "Why would they take off like that? It doesn't make any sense!"
      "I know it doesn't, but--" Sami was cut off as a pompous, authoritative voice butted in.
      "Well, Commander Cunningham, I really must congratulate you. Your construct nearly erased me, but none of you can destroy me. I am, after all, a genius." Cunningham's jaw dropped.
      "Spark!? You're supposed to be dead!"
      Spark continued un-phased. "Quite. Unfortunately for you, I created a routine just before your construct's virus destroyed me; it essentially reloaded all of my systems from what remains of this instillation's computers. I can't destroy your construct; at the moment, I'm far too weak for that. I can, however, destroy you. This piece of instillation zero-four's orbit is decaying. It will crash into the planet shortly. I suggest that you spend your remaining time wisely."
      "You're insane! You'll kill yourself, too!"
      "Oh, most certainly not. I have commandeered on of the Covenant's fighter craft and am speaking to you from orbit."
      Sami, cut him off with a noise of exasperation and frustration. Cunningham couldn't believe what was happening. "Sami, we've got to act fast. Get this cruiser off of this rock!"
      "I would," she said, her voice strained. "But I've just found the missing personnel."
      "Well, where are they?"

      "Well," Sergeant Johnson yelled over the radio. "Where are they?"
      "How should I know?" Polaski yelled back. "Sami said they'd be right here!"
      The orbit had already begun to decay once they had taken off from the bay. The weather had gotten worse as they went. As the piece of Halo tumbled towards Threshold The spore filled air had actually begun storms that were nearly impossible to fly through, especially with the Covenant craft. They had gone to the exact spot that Sami had said there would be supplies at.
      There weren't any.
      "Why would she be wrong about this?" Polaski asked as she wrestled with the twin sticks to keep her Banshee from colliding with the canyon walls. "Did the supplies move when Halo blew?"
      "I'll tell you why," Eric Harrison said suddenly. Polaski felt her heart flutter; whenever Harrison spoke, it was always unexpected. "That wasn't Sami."
      "Are you nuts?" Locklear cut in. "We heard her as plain as day!"
      "Trust me," Harrison continued. "It was Guilty Spark."
      "How do you figure that?"
      "Simple. Her voice didn't send just Polaski and me. Why the Marine escort? Surely, we could tie a rope to a cargo module and haul it back to the cruiser by ourselves. That and the fact that we had to wait twenty minutes before you guys showed up. She wouldn't have sent us out there until she had finished with Spark."
      "Well, maybe she was!"
      "Why, then, did she nearly let you get killed by this Hunter Killer thing you've been telling us about?"
      The channel fell completely silent as the realization dawned on them.
      "We need to get back to the cruiser," Polaski finally managed. The Warrant Officer looked down at her watch. "Scratch that. There isn't time. We've got four minutes until this thing starts to go down."
      "Four!?" Locklear exploded. "How're we going to get off of this thing in four minutes?"
      "We've got one shot," Harrison jumped back in. "The Pelican that Polaski and I flew down here. We passed over it on our way here. Back in those rocks. Those really high, really sharp, really dangerous looking rocks."
      "You're kidding, right?" Locklear asked, clearly flabbergasted.
      "I wish. Polaski and I thought they might make good cover." Back inside his cockpit, Locklear shook his head.
      "Uh-uh, no way. I'm getting back to the cruiser."
      "Did you not hear Polaski? There's no time!"
      "There's no way that Pelican will have time to take off; I'm heading back to the cruiser!"
      "Listen, I'm the lieutenant here, and you will--"
      "Say what, Harrison?" Back inside his cockpit, Lieutenant Haverson realized that he'd blown his cover. Oh, well, he though; no point in hiding it any longer.
      "Yes, I'm a lieutenant. Haverson. Lieutenant Haverson if you have to know. And as a lieutenant, I'm ordering you to get your insubordinate butt in line and help us find that Pelican!" To punctuate his point, he dropped his Banshee in behind Locklear and pulled the trigger under his right finger, which sent six bolts of plasma over Locklear's Banshee.
      Locklear got the point and wheeled his Banshee back around.

      "Commander, we can't wait for them any longer. If we're going to get off of this rock, we've got to go now. There's no chance of them getting back to the cruiser."
      "Do we have enough supplies to make it back to Earth?"
      "Yes, I hauled them in with the two Scorpions, from outside immediately after Spark got you into the ship. I'm sorry...if I had let you know, then those seven might not be out there."
      Cunningham had been hoping against all hope that they would have time to make it back. But, by now, it was obvious that they weren't. He felt the last of his strength leave him as he gave the command: "Do it."
      The doors to the hidden armory, cellblock, and security center slammed closed. In some sections of the ship, air pressure was immediately quintupled. The popcorn like infection forms exploded instantly, and their feathery shards were sucked towards ventilation grates as the pressure dropped by a magnitude. Combat forms' blood boiled, and carrier forms were torn apart by the rapidly changing pressures.
      Soon afterward, the deck rumbled as the Norah powered up once again. Her engines growled as they warmed themselves up and antigravity generators came online. The Marines fought a sense of vertigo as the battered Covenant cruiser named the Norah lifted off of the largest piece of Halo left. It climbed out of the atmosphere like an eagle rising out of a storm. As it began to leave Threshold's gravitational pull, it activated its slipspace drives; with complete accordance to the Cole Protocol, it selected a random jump vector, and leapt into slipspace.

      "Got it!" Polaski yelled. She set her Banshee down just in front of the passenger cabin. Gale force winds buffeted the Covenant craft and she struggled to keep it steady. She rotated it clockwise to where the Banshee's side faced the Pelican's back and opened the hatch. The Warrant Officer was almost carried off by the wind, but she managed to find a handhold on the bird.
      She took a breath and immediately gagged. The spore's felt like a meat-grinder as they wound their way down her throat and towards her lungs. Polaski slapped the open button, and the hatch came down like a medieval drawbridge. She staggered in to find that Sergeant Johnson and Lieutenant Haverson were right behind her.
      The Warrant Officer grabbed Haverson's arm and pointed to the cockpit. She couldn't speak; the spore's had seen to that. Haverson nodded and he helped her to the cockpit.
      She all but collapsed into the pilot's seat. Haverson sat down heavily in the co-pilot seat and flicked a series of switches in a split-second. The bird hummed as it warmed up. "No time for a pre-flight checklist," Haverson yelled above the roar of the engines as they came online. "We'll have to take her out manually!" Polaski could only nod in reply.
      She gripped the twin sticks that would control the bird like a twenty-first century helicopter. The stick on the left determined the angle of attack for the Pelican's pulse detonation engines. The stick on the right handled normal flight controls, such as climbing, diving and turning. Pedals under her feet controlled the yaw. She tested each stick in every direction and then gave a thumbs up to Haverson. He nodded as the hatch in the back came down once more and Corporal Locklear staggered in.
      "What are you trying to do, kill me? I get within a yard of this thing when BAM! The stupid engines change their angle and nearly fry me!"
      "Quit whining!" Johnson yelled, "and let them do their work!" Then, after a moment, "Where're the others?"
      "They didn't make it. They lost control of their Banshees in those rocks and slammed into them." Johnson nodded gravely. Another couple of good soldiers gone.
      "Easy on the stick, Polaski," Haverson muttered. "I'll help you, but we can't hit these rocks in this wind."
      "Why?" Locklear asked, his voice full of disgust. "Will it damage the Pelican?"
      "It won't damage it," Haverson muttered. "It'll crush it."

Battle for the Norah: Part Twenty [FINALE]
Date: 19 July 2004, 5:41 PM

      "What do you mean by 'crush it'?" Locklear yelled.
      "Exactly what I said," Haverson yelled back. "If we hit those rocks in this wind, it'll crush this bird! Not damage it, not hinder it, completely and totally destroy it!" Locklear fell silent. The Pelican shuddered as Polaski gunned the throttle. The Corporal and Sergeant Johnson had to grab onto the doorframe for support. The turbulence grew worse as the dropship rose up into the air.
      "Hang on!" Haverson grunted against the g-forces as the Pelican cleared the rocks, and tilted its nose to a forty-five degree angle. Polaski slammed the throttle to 100% full military thrust. The Pelican groped for sky as its engines screamed. It reconfigured its moveable wings for maximum lift and jumped upward.
      "Angels forty," Polaski grunted under her breath as she used the short term for forty-thousand feet. "Forty-three...fifty-one...sixty-seven...seventy-eight..." Gradually, the sky began to give way to the star filled void of space.
      "Get into the cockpit...I'm going to...blow...the hatch. We're still...way too deep in Threshold's... gravitational well to escape." Polaski grunted against her harness. Johnson grunted an unintelligible reply and managed to swat roll himself into the cockpit. Locklear swore and managed to haul himself halfway into the cockpit from the now, nearly vertical Pelican. Johnson grabbed the corporal's hand and yanked him upward.
      Haverson reached over his shoulder without looking, and slapped a button on the back wall. The two halves of the cockpit door slid closed horizontally. Polaski reached up and flicked a switch over her head. There was a tremendous explosion, and the Pelican stopped its backwards slide. Polaski pushed the throttle even farther forward than recommended, and the bird struggled to escape Threshold's gravitational hold.
      Slowly, the passengers felt their weight leave them as they exited Threshold's pull. Haverson slapped the button again to close the ramp. He flicked several more switches above his head, and oxygen was pumped back into the compartment. Johnson opened the door and floated into the cabin. He kicked off of the wall and did several flips.
      "Try it, Locklear! You'll like it!"
      Locklear made another contorted face that didn't look entirely composed of disgust. "I feel sick," he said, with a slightly higher than normal voice. Johnson just laughed.
      Back in the cockpit, things were not as cheery.
      Haverson sighed in relief and forced himself to relax. The straining he'd been doing against the g-forces and it had really tired him out. He brought the Pelican out into the debris field and activated the scopes. Polaski raised an eyebrow at him.
      "What're you doing?" she asked.
      "Looking for the cruiser." Polaski just shook her head. Before she could say anything, the instruments pinged. "Got an echo...but it's clear on the other side of the debris field..." Haverson announced. His eyebrows knitted in confusion. "Why would he be on the other side of the field...?"
      "Well, here," Polaski offered. "Let me turn on the beacon--"
      "No!" Haverson hastily said and grabbed her hand before it could turn on the distress beacon. "Why just an echo? And why so far out? Cunningham would have kept the ship right here," he said, exasperated. The instruments pinged again. Haverson glanced back at the scopes. "Whatever that echo is, it's getting stronger."
      "Meaning...what exactly?" Johnson asked as he poked his head back through the door.
      "Meaning that it isn't an echo. My guess is that it's one, if not several Covenant ships."
      "Crap."
      "Agreed."
      "How are we going to get past them, back to Cunningham?"
      "There's no chance. We'll have to hide."
      "Hide? Out here?" Johnson cast a quizzical eye at the Lieutenant. "Just where can we hide out here?" Haverson shrugged and shook his head.
      "Any number of places," Polaski put in, sensing her co-pilot's helplessness. "Lieutenant, set the radar for a wide scan. Burst mode; activate it for two seconds only." Haverson complied with a confused face until he looked out of the cockpit. Yes, he thought.
      The radar scanned the debris field for exactly two seconds before it gave a return.
      "Wait," Johnson spoke back up. "Wouldn't using the radar give away our position?"
      Polaski nodded. "Normally it would. But with so many rocks out here, we'd only appear as an echo, an anomaly. The good news is, we still get a good view of what's around us. For instance, look here," Polaski tapped the radar screen and indicated a large return.
      "What's that?"
      "It's a piece of Halo. A big one, too. About half a kilometer in diameter." She grinned. "Perfect."
      "Perfect for--" Johnson began to ask, but Polaski jerked the throttle to sixty percent, and the Sergeant flew backwards through the door...and straight into Locklear. Together, they yelled curses, tumbled towards the back of the Pelican, and slammed into the hatch.
      Polaski initiated a series of rolling maneuvers combined with sudden climbs and beyond vertical drops that were designed to bring the dropship ever closer to the largest piece of Halo in the vicinity. It was approximately half a kilometer in diameter. The Warrant Officer set the Pelican down as gently as she possibly could. It didn't help much. Locklear and Johnson still bounced around the cabin like super balls shot out of a cannon.
      Polaski brought the Pelican down slowly on the rock, nose-out. It needed to be ready to go if the Covenant found it with their sensors. She shut down everything except for the basic systems and put the radar into passive scan mode. Locklear and Johnson, both nursing bruises, came back through the door and the group surrounded the scope.
      It took thirty seconds before they got another hit.
      "Contact, bearing zero-one-zero; small distress beacon." Haverson muttered. "What on Earth...? It's a cryotube...It must have ejected before the Autumn entered the atmosphere. It's a miracle it survived Halo's explosion...Captain Keyes must have ejected the crew that wasn't reawakened in time..."
      "We obviously can't go get it...those Covenant ships are close enough"
      "Should we chance a scan?" Polaski asked as she looked back at the radar scope; the "echoes" of the Covenant ships had indeed grown stronger. Haverson bit his lip...and slowly shook his head, no. Any radar scan would be far too risky. The Covenant were close enough that they would definitly pick it up. But Polaski, with her pilot's instinct, insisted. "Infrared? It won't light up the Covenant's sensors. It's totally passive." Haverson sighed and relented; his fingers flicked to one of the multi-function displays.

      In the nose of the Pelican, under the 70 mm chain gun pod, the Combination Infrared, Night-Vision, and Electromagnetic Targeting pod (CINVET) warmed up. The CINVET was created by Boeing under government contract specifically for low-altitude support aircraft, such as the Pelican. As its full name showed, it had full infrared, night vision, and electromagnetic targeting abilities. Haverson slaved it to the distress beacon's location, and the pod swiveled around to get a look.
      The cryotube was completely dark on the MFD; nobody was surprised. They hadn't really expected any heat from a living person aboard that thing. After all, it had floated out in space for four days. What did catch their eye, was a small red dot behind the cryotube. Polaski enhanced the magnification, and it became evident that they weren't the only survivors out here.
      Behind the cryotube was a C709 Longsword.

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