About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
Concept Art
Halo Bulletins
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum

Clan HBO Forum
ARG Forum
Links
Admin
Submissions
Uploads
Contact

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 1: Lurking in the Shadows)
Date: 15 February 2004, 2:45 AM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 1: Lurking in the Shadows)
2034 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Halo Installation 07, corridor of Forerunner structure converted for Human purposes.

      The stars dotted the blue sky while the clouds floated arbitrarily around the ring's first moon, Torq. Jake Bennitz, an ONI technician who had been sent to the ring for studying purposes, inhaled deeply on his cigarette. But what they had been sent to study was the most important; they had been sent to the ringworld to study The Flood.
      Jake grinned and kept the cigarette pinched in-between his forefinger and index finger, then he rested his elbows on the concrete ledge of the Forerunner structure where they had set up their studying compound.
It's been too goddamn long," groaned the Sergeant, Mike Peters, who had his cigarette butt rested on his lips so it was at an angle, "I'm getting bored, and with the Covenant not attacking so often, there's hardly anything for a Sergeant like myself to do."
      "Stop complaining, Sarge." said Jake with a smirk, "It ain't that bad, but anyways, we better be heading back in. They're expecting us."
      The Sergeant scowled and flicked the cigarette off the ledge, Jake did that as well. Mike lumbered down the ramp and Jake was about to but decided to take in the scene for a moment.
      The twin suns floated directly behind Jake's position, casting a long shadow of the structure onto the stretched plateau the facility was placed on. M41 LAAGs and Guided Missile-Flax guns had been stuck onto the flat terrain with Marines patrolling the perimeters of the makeshift camp. Even though they had been here for only a few months, the ONI operatives and leaders of the operation had managed to alter the terrain and structures for their own personal liking.
      After the plateau there was a hill with a steep drop that lasted about twenty meters, then leveled off and continued forward. There was a river coming out of the mountains to the right of Jakes position, and it led down the plateau and hill and formed a lake at the bottom. The river was perfect from keeping Covenant forces coming from the mountains, and it also set up a perimeter for the compound.
      "Ain't ya comin'?" Mike's voice broke into Bennitz's thoughts and the ONI technician nodded, walking down the ramp.
      The ramp bent at a 90 degree angle to the right, then bent again and continued down until it reached the first floor. Marines and crewman hustled about the hallways, trying to find the areas that were to occupy their time.
      They had come to the ring in a large fleet of Prowlers that scattered and landed in different sections of Halo Installation 07. And when they touched down, they were given their objectives.
      Jake only knew he was on this ring to study the Flood, but not while they were released. Scientists had taken thermal scanners and radar trackers into the hallways below the structure and implanted them into the smooth, concrete floors. For the first few days nothing had happened, but soon activity under the structure began to intensify.
      Thermal scanners showed movement of the Flood in the corridors beneath the facility, and that was how they studied them. But there had only been two forms of the Flood; the Infection Forms and the occasional Carrier Form.
      Wasn't there another type, one that had great strength?
      Jake stopped thinking about the Flood for a moment and stopped in front of the Mess Hall doors, Peters straightened his posture beside him.
      "Verification code, name, rank and serial number required," dully said the AI, Calian, which had been inserted into the Forerunner facility recently.
      "Bennitz, Jake. ONI technician," replied the technician, "Serial number 02475-27754-JB, verification code 4656."
      "Thank you, Jake, please step into the Mess Hall," said Calian from the pedestal that had been set into the floor beside the access door.
      Jake stepped in with Peters, who had bypassed the need to confirm his identity to the AI. Calian wasn't a "dumb" AI, he just was getting the bugs in his computer structure erased and reset.
      "Bennitz, Peters, come and have a seat." said the all-too-familiar Major Junards, who was settled on one of the benches that were connected to the long tables. These, no doubt, had been taken from the Prowler.
      Jake walked over to the bench and sat down at the opposite side of Junards' position. Mike situated himself beside Jake.
      "You requested us, sir?" asked Mike to Colonel Briggs, who was seated beside the Major. Briggs nodded.
      "What for?" questioned Jake.
      "Nothing arduous, Bennitz," the Colonel said calmly, "We just need you to fix the doors to the hallway that lead to the landing zone."
      Jake sighed, he had wanted to do something a bit more exciting, "Yes, sir."
      "And as for you, Sergeant," Briggs said, "We have a few Marines that have lost their squad leader; so they've been transferred to your squad."
      Once the Colonel said "squad", three Marines came out from the opposite door from which Jake had entered. A light was stationed right above the doorway and cast its luminosity into the room.
      The Marines walked over to the table but remained standing.
      "Alex Cunliffe, sir, looking forward to being in your squad," said the muscular Marine who smiled and shook the Sergeant's hand. Wisps of brown hair emerged from under the helmet of the soldier, making him look like a sixteen year old.
      "Chris Cotters, sir." said the Marine beside Alex who was slightly smaller and wore a Marine Corps hat, which revealed most of his blonde hair and scar below his left eye.
      "Chelsea Dewhirst, hope it's not too hard on you to have a woman in your squad," the last Marine said, and smiled. She sported the normal armor of the UNSC and had short, brown hair.
      The Colonel dismissed them from the room, and they strolled down the hallway, not talking. Light filled the wide corridors as soldiers, scientists, ONI personnel, techs and crewmen ambled down them. Jake was the first to reach the automated door, which was already open because of the traffic in the hallways.
      He separated from the Sergeant and Marines and continued to where he was headed: corridor D-12; the one that led all the way to the landing zone. That hallway was over a kilometer long.
      Jake sighed as he approached the damaged door-hatch; the red light centered on the mechanized door flickered green and spat out sparks, lighting up the square room before disappearing into the air. The ONI technician took out the proper tools from his back pocket and started work on the holographic access panel.

2058 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/Halo 07, In the Makeshift Research Lab of the Forerunner Structure, Zone F-02, studying movement of Flood.

      The monitor showed a rapid increase of activity in the caverns below, and the female scientist, Sara Medds, called over the other scientist Maxell Teck.
"What is it now?" Maxell annoyed, asked, who had been working on a concoction of unknown substances.
      "Look at the thermal and radar readings," replied Sara calmly, "They are massing in numbers, we have contacted the other ONI locations on this ring and they report the same thing."
      "Meaning?"
      "Meaning that they can smell the blood of a human or any kind of living organism that can sustain the Flood's genetic restructuring process," responded Sara with a look of fascination on her expression.
      Maxell looked at the monitor closer, it was a bird's eye view of the Flood activity, and only showed yellowish-red dots shuffling around.
      "Just hope those bastards don't get above the surface," Teck said, "Or we'll all be dead before we can shout fuck."
      Sara nodded in agreement and shut off the monitor, then shut off the thermal scanners so they would recharge over the night and exited the room with Maxell. They were going to get some sleep in the Cryobay; it was hard enough to get some rest without a cryotube.

2102 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Halo Installation 07/ In Forerunner structure, Cryobay C.

      They had also salvaged some cryotubes into the spare room with the twelve meter high roof. Lights beamed down from the ceiling and threw long shadows across the floor. Sergeant Mike Peters strolled to one of the tube's portable control devices that rolled along the floor. Buttons that only—or normally what a tech would only recognize—flashed a pale yellow every few seconds and energy pulsed through the translucent blue metal.
      The Sergeant pressed the correct codes in to unseal several of the cryotubes, and the Marines that were issued into his squad turned their heads to the chiiiitchh sound a tube usually made when open.
      "We gettin' some sleep tonight, Sarge?" asked Alex happily, "Just 'cause I haven't had a good-night's rest in a couple days."
      The Sergeant nodded and the Marines undressed themselves and then inserted themselves into the cryotubes. Mike pressed a series of buttons and sealed the hatches; the cryo-freezing process was automated and the Sergeant called over to a technician who was typing on a portable ONI laptop.
      "How may I be of assistance, sir?" asked the technician.
      "Just shut the hatch of this cryotube here when I'm ready," responded the Sergeant, "Get to the panel."
      "Yes, sir." the technician walked over to the control device.
      Peters began to undress and then hopped into the cryotube, the hatch shut and his vision became foggy, the last thing he remembered was when he whispered to himself, "It sure is cold."

2130 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Halo Installation 07/In Forerunner Facility, heading to control room.

      Jake had finished his appointed duty in half an hour, which was pretty quick considering that the Forerunner mechanisms were completely different from Covenant and Human technology alike.
      There was a sudden snarl, and Jake faced towards the sound, and then there was an odd groan, but nothing appeared in Jake's vision. Odd, the tech thought, better report this to the ONI Commander. He pace quickened into a run and he was at a full pace down the hallway, barely anyone else accompanied him in the corridor.
      He ran through the door where he had come through to fix the D-12 hallway door-hatch and it shut behind him silently. Jake paused and rested his hands on his knees as he bent over and panted. Whatever was back there had scared the shit out of him.
      But it couldn't have been the Flood; there was strict protocol not to release them. So he continued forward to the control center, banishing the terrifying thought of the Flood being loose, looking fearfully over his shoulders every few seconds.

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 2: Released)
Date: 20 February 2004, 8:04 PM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 2: Released)
2136 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Halo 07, Forerunner Facility, heading to control room to report peculiarities.

      Jake scrambled down the hallway, listening to the unusual snarling and scurrying that seemed to echo right above him. The tech's own shuffling of his feet filled the chilling silence of the corridor, and overhead lights cast his stretched shadow onto the wall.
      When he reached the door before the hallway leading to the control room, he stopped and looked up.
      A viscous green fluid dripped from the wall in large, glossy chunks and splattered on the floor below. Pieces of twisted metal lay scattered among the puddle, and Jake noticed that some steel grating on the ceiling had been broken; the green liquid oozed from the gap.
      The ONI tech walked under the falling olive-colored substance and coughed when it spattered on his shoulder. It smelled terrible, and the odor clung to his uniform as he tried to brush it off, it was ineffective and only stained his clothes.
      There were more puddles of the green fluid down the hallway, but it was thicker and not as runny.
      He reached the control room's doorway and stepped in, his eyes shifting wildly in fear. The tech came into the open room filled with monitors and other equipment, but other than that, the control room was empty.
      Jake activated the ONICOM and spoke into it, "This is Jake Bennitz, does anyone copy?" He paused to only receive belches of static and then killed the unencrypted channel; the unsettling calm was getting to him.
      He was about to leave the room when a voice broke into the technicians thoughts, the voice belonged to the AI Calian, "Where are you going?"
      "I'm getting out of here; this place gives me the creeps." responded Jake as he turned to face the hovering image of the AI, it floated on the pedestal.
      "I oppose that decision," said the AI with a computerized tone to its voice, "Flood are everywhere, you'll die in a matter of minutes."
      "What?" Jake said with perplexity, his eyes widened.
      "Yes, the Flood have been released, they are inevitably taking over the structure as we speak." Calian said with no emotion and then added, "I suggest you lock down the facility, you may be capable of reaching survivors."
      "When were they released? How? Why?" said the frightened tech quickly, and when the AI only stared at him he then said, "Scan the facility, I want to know where the Flood are located."
      "Yes, Jake, scanning..." Calian's voice drifted off, "It is difficult to calculate, but I have estimated that they will reach this room in a matter of minutes. Fortunately the hallways leading to the med bay and armory are unoccupied. I suggest you get a move on, Jake."
      The tech nodded and turned around, but before leaving the room he asked the AI; "Is there anyone in the cryo bays?" And when the AI nodded and told him to leave quickly Jake disappeared out of the room, leaving the soon-to-be-invaded control room behind.
      He couldn't help but feel like it was hopeless, that there was no point in trying to carry on. But Jake continued running down the hall and past the dripping green matter. The tech could feel the adrenaline pumping into his veins and began to run faster, if he could get to the cryo bays maybe he could make a formidable resistance against the Flood.
      Maybe they could even survive.
      Jake realized he was getting ahead of himself; it couldn't be that much of a struggle could it? With effort, he calmed himself down, but didn't slow as he rounded a corner and entered another hallway. The cryo bays—A through C—were located down that corridor, so the tech slowed to a walk and cautiously moved forward.

2136 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Halo 07, Forerunner Facility, in cryo bay 'A'.

      The ONI technician, Hayden Park, lifted his head up from the wooden desk he had been working on an hour before. Spittle fell from the corners of the tech's mouth which he hastily wiped away in disgust. The portable monitor he had been working on had automatically turned off, and a message containing millions of numbers and symbols filled the screen.
      Park stood up and walked over to the cryo tubes to check on the sleeping soldiers, and also to stretch his tired muscles. When he looked up the biomonitor signs and confirmed that they were normal, he sat back down at his desk and typed in the code to access the ONI databases.
      When the computer pinged a ferocious growl resonated through the room causing Hayden to jump out of the seat and unclip his pistol from his belt.
      "Who's there?" he practically yelled at the now-silent air, an echo bounced off the solid walls and back into his ears.
      He tried to calm down but was unsuccessful, then he snapped off the safety on the pistol and aimed the weapon at random places in the room. Another snarl echoed throughout the room, and Hayden yelped, sweat streaked down his panic-stricken face and he once again called out: "Who's there!?"
      There was a mild explosion as an answer and he turned to see a grate from the roof fall to the ground and shatter, sending little shards of metal everywhere. What came next guaranteed his certain death.
The bobbing Flood Infection Forms poured out of the shaft by the hundreds, some popping after failing to grab hold of the ceiling and falling to the floor. An endless wave of the creatures continued to sweep from the roof towards Park and he started to fire his weapon repeatedly at the Infection Forms.
      It was pointless though, because for every one of the creatures that popped, another five took its place. The doomed tech backed up into the wall, the opposite side of the room which held the doorway. The situation quickly turned from bad to worse as the pistol ran out of bullets, but when he tried to slip in another clip it fell from his grip and clattered on the floor.
      "Fuck!" he yelled in dismay and threw his weapon at the oncoming wave of Infection Forms.
      In a last attempt he threw his hands up in front of his face but one of the little squid-resembling creatures jumped onto his stomach and raised one of its razor sharp tentacles.
      The Infection Form drove its penetrator through the technicians flesh while several more jumped onto other parts of his body and added to the blazing pain.
      He started to scream as his blood squirted out on the floor and onto his uniform, he became dizzy and struggled to hit off the little creatures.
      His fist hit into it with all of Hayden's remaining power, a fiery pain ripped through his body as the penetrator snapped off and the creature popped, spraying blood and flesh into the tech's face.
      With his arms thrashing at the creatures, blood continued to rush out of his body and spatter on the floor. Twenty more of the creatures jumped onto his body and stabbed him with their tentacles.
      A red haze filled his vision, and for a brief moment he didn't feel any pain, but seconds after one of the creatures blocked his vision and knocked him down.

2141 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Halo 07 in Forerunner Facility, entering cryo bay 'A'.

      The doors slid open silently and Jake stepped inside and he just saw numerous shapes move up into a broken shaft on the ceiling. He vigilantly moved into the room and almost tripped on a body sprawled on the ground, little tiny creatures attached to the carcasses chest—they were Infection Forms.
      The tech backpedaled and tripped over his feet in shock, dark red blood tainted his uniform as he fell face first onto the ground creating its own color after mixing with the green liquid that had fallen onto his shoulder.
      He stood back up and looked at the bleeding body, the Infection Forms didn't move to attack Jake, but instead clung to the man's chest and burrowed deeper.
      There was a pistol a couple meters from the body and it was without a clip. Bullet casings littered the blood-stained floor, and Jake walked up to the weapon and reloaded it and aimed it at the creatures attached to the dead mans body.
      Several shots rang out and the creatures exploded in a shower of flesh and green blood. Jake smirked in amusement and walked over to one of the cryo tubes without taking a second glance at the body, death made him uneasy.
      Condensation had formed on the glass surface of the cryo tube but was quickly wiped off with the bloodied sleeve of Jakes uniform. A face appeared behind the glass, staring blankly into space, it was Mike the Sergeant.
      The tech ran over to the portable access computer and typed in a few quick commands, causing the cryo tubes to pump a wake-up stiff into the bodies of the people sleeping. Seconds passed and a low tone emitted from the computer, warning the tech that if he woke the Sergeant and the others up too early it could damage their nervous system.
      He hastily typed in a few more commands, he had done an early awakening millions of times before, and soon the cryo tubes opened and the confused expression of the Sarge was the first thing Jake saw.
      "Peters, we need to get the fuck outta here, the Flood have been released. This all may be a little too much information but we need you to hurry." said Jake quickly and handed the Sarge his clothes as he stepped out of the tube.
      Several more people stepped out from behind a support pillar with bewildered appearances, they were naked. One of them rubbed his eyes and said to the Sergeant, "Shit, we gotta get to work already? I don't feel rested."
      "Me either, Marine, but we got word that the Flood have been released," he sighed, closed his eyes, and then added, "We gotta get outta here, soldiers."
      The soldiers nodded and one of them cast a nasty look at the dead carcass at the far end of the room.
      "I feel sorry for that unlucky tech." said the female Marine, and then they all filed out of the room.
      The group of ONI personnel moved around the cryo bays for the next twenty minutes searching for any surviving men (or women) to add to their collection of Marines. They had managed to find two scientists in cryo 'C'--a male and female—who went by the name of Sara Medds and Maxell Teck. They were given some spare HE Pistols the Marines were carrying.
      Once they had gotten clothed in their white lab jackets they all left the hallway which comprised of the three cryo bays. Maxell became irritated and asked: "Where are we going now? This is pointless! Fucking pointless!"
      "Calm down, son," the Sergeant said—and stepped closer to the scientist and raising a hand, "We're going to the med bay, there's no Flood there, and we can stock up on supplies."
      Maxell continued to stare at the Sarge, looking at each face in the hallway with wide eyes—he then exhaled deeply and composed his expression, if not himself.
      "Fine, let's get going."
      The ONI personnel continued to trek down the wide hallways—going up and down ramps, passing under flickering lights, and avoiding the green puddles on the floors—and eventually came to the med bay to find it silent and glowed in an extremely white light.
      "It's a wonder we didn't get attacked while we were getting here," said one of the Marines—Chris Cotters—as he stepped through the doorway, his eyes squinted due to the brightness.
      Jake was about to reply when a scream echoed down the hallway which they came down, everyone spun around to look out the doorway. A soldier was backpedaling when he came around the corner, green blood colored the Marine's uniform; at least thirty Flood Infection Forms chased him.
      "Get away!" the Marine yelled and turned around as he was running to face the shocked people in the med bay, his eyes widened and he managed to yell, "Hurry! Let me in, please!"
      Peters—who was closest to the door's access button—looked at Jake who shook his head; the Sarge gulped and hit the switch.
      "What are you doing?! Let me in, man!" screamed the soldier as the door closed on him, thumps came from the other side of the sealed door.
      Jake walked closer to the door and looked out of the little glass pane, the horrified soldier stared back at him with blazing eyes.
      "You fucker! Open the damn door!" the Marine said with anger, but then stopped hitting the door and spun around.
      The soldier started to scream and then fell under the weight of all the little parasitic forms, blood sprayed onto the glass pane on the other side. The screams died out and everything became a deadly silent.
      Jake pushed back the sorrow for the dead Marine; he hated death, everything about it made him sick. He turned around to face the miserable faces of the other personnel, most of them stood down at the floor.
      "So..." Alex interjected into the gloomy atmosphere, "What do we do now?"
      "We wait," responded Jake, "and we collect supplies that are necessary, if we don't want to fall to the Flood then we have to work together."
      The soldiers and scientists nodded and scattered around the room to police any equipment or medical supplies necessary. Med-Kits were found in a large cabinet along with some stim-packs, hundreds of nutrient supplement packages had been stored in a freezer.
      More useful gear had been recovered and some of the Marines found three other rooms with beds. And four surgery tables had been installed into the room with movable lights overhead. It was a perfect place to withhold from the Flood; they had even managed to find some monitors and upload a motion tracking system to them.
      There was one problem though, which was soon realized when several Flood Infection Forms broke into the room via a duct in the roof.
      Two minutes were needed to kill the little genetic-altering squids. Not one got the chance to land on one of the soldiers or scientists.
      "Get that hole sealed up! We don't want anymore intruders." ordered Jake; it would seem that he was in charge.
      Mike and the Marines grabbed some welding gear and bonded some metal objects that had been found in the room to the hole. It had been covered completely.
      "Good work, maybe we should look for anymore ways that the Flood could break in—" his voice faded as a clatter of metal reverberated around the room--Infection Forms poured into the room.
      The Marines—who were carrying Pistols and MA5B's—almost instantly started firing, the bulbous little creatures popped in a mist of blood and skin.
      "Suppression fire!" barked the Sergeant, and the Marines directed their shots towards the front of the wave.
      The Infection Forms in the front popped and caused a chain reaction, it took only seconds for the creatures to be wiped out. It wasn't over though, as three Combat Forms crawled out of the large hole at the far side of the room. They were tall and had rotted, stinking flesh, tentacles protruded from the abominations left arms.
      One of them snarled and leaped towards Peters who was closest to them and raised its sharp tentacles. Noticing this, all the defenders raised their weapons and shot at the Combat Form.
      In a long spray of green blood and a horrid ripping sound, the arm came clean off of the monster. It dropped to the ground twitching. The other beasts leaped across the room and raised their tentacle-arms while in mid-air.
      One of them jumped straight towards Jake and impulsively dived to the right. The creature missed by a long shot, and bullets ripped through its skin and spat out blood and bone from Jake's Pistol. A slug managed to penetrate the neck of the Flood form and tear it from the body.
      The head of the monster flew across the room and exploded on the wall.
      Jake sighed and wiped off more blood that had spattered onto his uniform and then exhaled deeply at the silence, no one was shooting.
      "Is everyone okay?" he asked grimly, averting his eyes from the putrid carcasses and blood-stained floor.
      "Yes, Jake, everyone is fine."
      He sighed and looked at the hole where the Flood had came in from, "Someone get that hole corked up...and search for anymore entrances."
      They nodded tiredly and moved around the room, this was just the beginning of their struggle to survive.

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 3: Supplies, Ammo, and Weapons to Kill Freaks)
Date: 29 February 2004, 6:06 AM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 3: Supplies, Ammo, and Weapons to Kill Freaks)
2201 Hours, January 13, 2552 (Military Calendar)/ On Halo 07, inside makeshift medical bay in Forerunner structure.

      The mood surrounding the ONI survivors had sunk even lower as they were forced to clean up the carcasses of the Flood Combat Forms. They had nowhere to hide the bodies, so instead they stacked them in one of the open shafts and sealed it.
      Screams occasionally resonated through the massive Forerunner structure and were usually ended by the sound of weapons fire or explosions. Another muffled thump echoed and shook the medical bay room the ONI personnel were in.
      "This is useless," complained the scientist, Maxell, "If we just stand here and wait we'll never escape this structure—no, wait, ring—alive!"
      The soldiers and scientists shifted, but Jake, knowing almost every single corner and crevice in the altered Forerunner structure, came up with another answer.
      "We're not going to linger much longer, the Flood are slowly taking over this ring now that they have been released." he paused and closed his eyes, then spoke again, "We need to stay together to survive, we fail to work mutually and collected, then we die."
      "So what are we going to do?" questioned Teck again, curiosity lined his tone.
      Jake silently called up the facilities mapping routines on his neural lace, both the three floors of the structure popped up in front of his pupils. The vision beyond the floor plans blurred out as he concentrated on the diagram.
      "The Armory, it's right around the corner," Jake said as he studied the map, "We'll head there and stock up on supplies, whatever we need that is necessary."
      Mike called up his troops and pulled the bolt back on his MA5B. With the remaining ammunition it held; the ammo-counter read full. "Come on, Marines; time to test your fighting experience!"
      "Teck and I will wait here," Sara said, "We...don't want to get in your way, fighting is not my thing."
"I'll stay back with them," shyly said the female Marine, Chelsea, "It would be for the best, I'll slow you down, I'm still waking up from the cryo-sleep."
      The Sarge nodded and motioned the soldiers to follow him; Jake stepped up to the locked door and held his Pistol by his side. The ONI tech raised his right hand slowly and tapped the button to open the door, it noiselessly did so.
      The technician immediately backed up to brace himself from anything that was hoping to break in, but nothing attempted to hit him except the cold surge of air that entered the med bay.
      Jake walked down the hallway in a crouch with his Pistol raised, but noticed that the body of the Marine that had been locked out was missing. Blood stains replaced where the body of the dead soldier would have been.
      The green blood also tainted the hallway and replaced its dull, original, grey color. The soldiers wordlessly trailed behind the nervous tech, only the sound of their footfalls reverberated around the three meter wide corridor.
      They rounded the corner and continued down the hallway, a light winked at that the ONI workforce and glowed dim green, meaning it was open.
      It only took a few seconds for the persons to sprint down the remainder of the hall and run into the Armory. The door shut and Peters slid the lock on it as they all went to examine the weapons.
      "We're so close to the Armory! This is the perfect place to stay from the Flood!" exclaimed Cotters, he sounded confident. "But I realize we have to keep moving, whatever it takes to endure this struggle."
      Jake nodded and grabbed himself a large box of 12.7mm bullets for his HE Pistol, then went over to another weapons rack to check the other weapons. A Shotgun was perfect for fighting the Flood, so he grabbed one of those and a huge amount of shells.
      More med-kits and stim-packs were stored in a locker; Rocket Launchers hung from their holders and were accompanied by boxes that contained the 102mm rockets.
      "Whoa, a whole arsenal for us to pick at," commented Alex, "I want grenades."
      "No grenades!" said the Sarge, "Too close to use frags, son, might hurt one of us."
      The Marine shrugged and grabbed himself some MA5B ammunition along with a Shotgun with a shoulder-strap, then fingered around with some grenades and hid them under his belt.
      Jake witnessed this but decided that maybe they would come in handy; he directed his attention to some other weapons they had brought in from ONI.
      There was a larger Pistol that fired high explosive shots like the M6D, but had a slightly different shape and could hold more rounds. Jake liked the feel of the newer weapon but stuck to the HE, he had used it more often and it suited him better.
      The snarl that the group all feared repeated itself as the sound bounced off the room's walls. A Flood Form was undoubtedly in the room with them, maybe even more than one, but they couldn't see it.
      "Hurry up, man," said Private Cunliffe as his eyes darted around the room to try and reveal the lurking creature, "If I can't see him, then what point is there in carryin' all these weapons?"
      There was a slight ripple in the air, and then the undulation launched itself towards Peters who was knocked to the ground.
      "Sarge!" yelled Chris Cotters and jerked his weapon around and shot at an unseen target standing over the crippled body of the Sergeant.
      Almost immediately the invisible Covenant Combat Form became perceptible and its blood splattered against the wall. The monster staggered forward and swung its arm around, hoping to hit the firing Marine, but was unsuccessful as Alex raised his Shotgun and fired.
      The creature was tossed across the makeshift Armory and hit the wall, the tentacles that jutted out from its chest dropped and twitched along with the rest of the Flood form's body.
      Alex rushed over to the fallen Sergeant and shook him; Chris still concentrated his weapon on the body of the creature.
      "Sarge, are you alright?" asked Alex, then the Combat Form jumped up at Chris who yelled and fired his Pistol.
      The mutation was brought down only by five shots; it was then missing its arms, its "head", and most of its side. An awkward silence enveloped the room as the wounded Sergeant stood back up and brushed himself off, a slash on his neck was all he received from the Flood Form.
      Jake looked around the room, trying to eye something that would make it easier to transport all the weapons back to the medical bay. A trolley wandered into his vision, it had two platforms and had anti-gravity beams to keep it above the ground. The technician rushed over to it and pushed it in front of the Marines; they examined it carefully and piled the weapons they had collected onto the metal shelves. Ammo and other supplies were hastily shoved into the side pockets and Jake pushed the pushcart over to the door.
      Alex punched the button, causing the door to slide open, and the Marines ran ahead of the technician and secured the hallway. However, the hallway wasn't easily safe because many bloated Carrier Forms waddled around the intersection.
      They somehow spotted the Marines that crowded the hallway in a semi-circle and started to shuffle their way towards them. Mike opened fire first; bullets tore into the flesh of the nearest Carrier as the rest of the troops followed suit.
      The Flood Form contorted as its flesh expanded to an amazing size, Jake and the additional Marines closed their eyes for the imminent explosion. The blast from the monster threw the others backwards as a dozen Infection Forms were tossed to the green splattered wall—which instantly started moving towards the shooting soldiers.
      The other Carriers exploded—flesh, bone, and blood splashed the wall as the blast sent out over twenty of the parasitic Flood forms onto the floor. Alex flung a primed grenade over his head which landed in the midst of the scuttling Infection Forms. An explosion rattled the hallway and the teeth of the Marines, the Sergeant hit Alex who flinched and managed a smile.
      "I though one of those would come in handy." the Marine remarked and shot at the surviving parasites, several more pops rung out.
      The hallway was soon clear of any Flood; Jake pushed the trolley that was stacked with weapons of every kind—MA5B's, Pistols, several grenades, Shotguns, Rocket Launchers, med-kits, and even some Jackhammer rockets—and rounded the corner to face several Human Combat Forms blocking their path to the doorway.
      The creatures turned to face the technician and soldiers, they all wielded a weapon—two of them held an Assault Rifle while the others held Needlers. That meant that the Covenant were in—or near—the structure, forcibly giving up their bodies to feed the Flood and causing them to increase in numbers.
      Jake had just enough time to think about that when one of the Flood forms raised their Needlers at an awkward angle. The technician dived to the right where he had much more room to maneuver, and while he was in mid-air and near the cart a Shotgun came into his grasp.
      The Marines sprinted around the corner and received fire from the Human forms, and then were forced back into the adjacent passage. Jake lay on the ground, and without hesitating he raised the weapon and aimed it at one of the creatures, several shots echoed around the intersection of hallways.
      The loose flesh guarding the stomach of the nearest Human Flood Form tore, and then exposed the Infection Form curled up between pushed-aside organs and arteries.
      Another blast popped the parasitic creature and the Human Combat Form dropped like a rock—blood spewed out of the gaping hole and splattered over the tech's face, which grimaced in expression.
      The Marines charged back out into view of the creatures and let off several rounds each, knocking limbs and ligaments off the decomposing bodies of the Flood. Weakened bones—due to the genetic altering process the Infection Forms put the host through—were thrown across the room and shattered into miniscule fragments along with any flesh that had stuck.
      Jake squeezed in several more shots, bringing down the remainder of the creatures. The breathless technician arose from his prone position and attempted to wipe off the clotted blood that stuck to his face. He resumed his position behind the trolley and pushed it down the rest of the corridor while taking ragged breaths.
      "You alright, Bennitz?" asked Chris as he ran up behind the technician who in turn jumped from shock.
      Jake nodded, sighed, and pushed the trolley up to the door and tapped it several times. He peered through the vertical glass pane on the mechanical door and saw Chelsea rush over to the door from where she was standing—beside one of the medical beds.
      There was a soft beeeeep and the door slid open half way, then stopped, and shut again. A voice spoke from the speakers that had been fixed into the crevices of the roof, it was the structures AI.
      "I'm afraid I can't allow you to continue, tech—tech—continue..." Calian's tone sounded its normal self, but once it repeated the words Jake realized it was infected with a virus or was functioning with errors.
      "Calian, let. Us. In." Jake said slowly.
      "I informed you that I cannot allow you to persist!" the word "persist" repeated several times followed by a brief scratching noise, then the AI continued, "I—the—we have initiated a security lockdown, it was a direct order."
      "From who?" questioned the Sergeant.
      "From them, Human."
      The AI suddenly went silent; Jake felt a mix of anger, frustration and fear flood into his mind, his hands made fists and veins bulged from his forehead.
      "Let us in, Goddamnit!" bellowed Chris who walked to the door and hit on it as hard as he could. He withdrew his shaking hand and wiped the blood that had came from his knuckles on his pants, smiled at Jake, and motioned him towards the door, "Got a better plan?"
      Jake walked to the door and tried to pry it open—it was pointless, but worth an attempt. There were several thumps that emanated from the other side of the door, the door slid open halfway, then shut, then open again but just stopped.
      "Prepare to diiieeeee, Human," spat the AI ferociously, guttural growls resonated from the connection of the hallways; Jake spun around and saw Carriers, Infection Forms, and unarmed Combat Forms waddling their way. He suddenly felt a pang of regret for the Marine they had locked out, the late soldier must've felt the same was as the technician did right then.
      "Oh, no, they won't." Jake heard the female scientist mutter from the other side of the door, which opened suddenly.
      The technician shoved the trolley into the room—it skidded and came to a halt when it hit one of the surgery tables—knocking ammunition boxes and several Pistols onto the floor.
      Jake and the other Marines dashed into the room and yelled at the scientist to close the door, without hesitating, she did so, and the approaching monsters were concealed from view.
      The woman scientist held up the small microchip that had rerouted the doors controls and caused it to open, smiled, and put it back into her lab jacket. Jake was too grateful but couldn't come up with words.
      But it wasn't over just yet, Jake had realized, as loud thrashing noises echoed from the solid door. The first blow knocked the mechanical entrance inwards slightly, the second loosened it from its hinges, but the third time the door held its place and impeded the Flood from entering the room.
      Snarls and growls reverberated around the section of the structure, and with that, the Flood disappeared from the corridor. Jake exhaustedly looked at Chelsea who asked him: "How'd it go?"
      The technician sighed and wiped some of the Flood blood off his face for emphasis, trying to give the female Marine a hint, and smiled at her. She grinned and walked over to the trolley.
      "Finally, some real weapons to work with."
      As soon as she reached down to examine one of the Jackhammer rockets, the lights snapped off and enclosed the facility in darkness. Considering that the Flood were now roaming the facility in the shadows, this wasn't necessarily a great thing.
      "Bad, this is bad!" groaned the male scientist in the black.
      Metallic thumps resounded around the darkened med bay and filled the technician's heart with fear, he gulped and waited a few seconds, an orange haze filled his vision and the lights snapped back on, this time more faded and red.
      "Back-up lights." Jake sighed, "They've activated."
      "So you're saying they deactivated the generator? How?! They're just freaks!" asked Maxell quickly, the scientist seemed like a coward to Jake, and it was the tech who responded.
      "The Flood aren't stupid, they can seize areas or things that are important to them and use it to their own ability and understanding," replied Jake slowly in the dim, red light, "Without a doubt, they have already commenced with phase one."
      "What's phase one?" asked the Marine, Alex.
      "Killing everything they see and using the bodies for hosts."
      "Great."
      The thumps stopped, and Jake finally said, "It will be no good to travel around the structure in the dark; we'll be too easy of targets. I'm going to fix the generator."
      "By yourself?!" exclaimed Chelsea, "I'm coming with you."
      "No, it's too dangerous, I need to go alone, I know where the generator is held." the technician said confidently, the female Marine fell silent, "I know a few...shortcuts."
      Jake walked over to grab a Shotgun and the proper ammunition, nothing could stop him now, not awhile he was alive.

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 4: An Unexpected Heroine)
Date: 4 March 2004, 8:27 PM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 4: An Unanticipated Heroine)
2247 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/On Halo Installation 07, inside Forerunner facility, nearing Generator Room.

      The four Marines shuffled down the hallway in a crouch, each one holding an Assault Rifle close to their shoulders. The red light coming from the corridor lights caught onto the soldiers' helmets periodically before they moved into the shadows.
      Corporal Joe Howlrin waved the composed Privates under his command forward, his hand catching some crimson-tinged light as he did so. Howlrin wiped his face with his sleeve, droplets of perspiration came off onto his uniform and he warily surveyed his surroundings.
      "All clear." whispered the Private, Tom Li, who was at the far end of the hall, "Moving into Generator Room."
      The Corporal moved swiftly down the rest of the wide, shadowed, hallway, and then paused once he reached the faded grey doorway. He motioned his troops who immediately moved into the room, the transparent green screen in front of his right eye shimmered and small white text scrolled across it.
      Joe looked back down the hallway, and once making sure it was safe, moved into the Generator Room. The facilities lights had been disabled somehow, but his brave soldiers would fix it and then get the hell out of there; it was bad enough that the Flood were roaming the structure.
      The Corporal stepped on something that made a wet smacking noise; he involuntarily let one hand go of his weapon and reached down towards his boot. He withdrew his hand almost instantly in abhorrence; a moist, sticky, substance clung to his fingers. Howlrin decided to ignore the irritating feeling of the stuff that had glued itself to his skin.
      The room was completely black, forcing the Marines to switch on the night vision that was activated by the neural implants, a very helpful device. It took a moment for Joe's eyes to get accustomed to the sudden surge of light, but once his vision adapted he gagged and let out a spew of vomit.
      Bodies of Humans and Flood littered the room, blood—green and dark red—had been splattered everywhere, on the roof, over the generator, on the walls and floor...
      The substance that had adhered to his fingers was a dark scarlet through the night vision, meaning it was Human blood. A mix of entrails spilled out of every single body the Corporal observed in repulsion and terror, the other Marines gagged and coughed but quickly tried to compose themselves.
      "W-What the fuck happened?!" cried out one of the PFC youngsters, Vince Rivera, the Corporal felt a solid lump form in his throat.
      They shouldn't be seeing this, Joe thought, this is too intense for him, it will haunt him. Vince turned with wide eyes, and with a closer look, Howlrin saw he was crying.
      "Fix the generator, now, that's what we came here to do." ordered the Corporal fearfully as he continued to examine the gore-cluttered room, "The faster you do it, the faster we can get the hell out of here."
      "Yes, sir," Vince said, his voice wavering slightly, and he moved towards the generator.
      The quick-scurrying of Infection Forms filled the Corporals ears; he spun around to face the noise. The bulbous creatures had poured out of a shaft and were climbing down the wall, some climbing over each other or jumping to the floor.
      "Fire your weapon!" barked Joe to the Marines, muffled shots filled the room and disrupted the night vision with brilliant, white flashes.
      Vince yelled and dropped the tools he had brought to repair the generator, but as he turned around one of the parasitic forms latched onto his spine. The Private screamed and collapsed, the Infection Form held its grip as several others were popped one by one.
      Joe turned to see one of the Marines get taken down by numerous Infection Forms; the soldier dropped his gun which clattered to the concrete floor. The terrified Corporal maneuvered around while firing, and backed up into the only surviving Marine. The creatures seemed to appear out of nowhere, even though there was only one visible entrance, hundreds—at the least—swarmed around the generator, floors, walls, and the elevated roof.
      There was a remorseful click as the other soldiers' weapon exhausted its remaining ammunition. "I'm out!" The Corporal winced at these words, but as soon as he realized it was hopeless he dropped his own Assault Rifle onto the ground.
      "Howlrin! We still have a chance—" the last words of the soldier echoed through Joe's mind, but as one of the creatures grabbed onto both the Marines' chests his vision blackened. The horrified Corporal was put out of his misery.

2250 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Halo 07 in Forerunner facility, heading towards Generator Room.

      "Keep us posted, Jake." the Sergeant's voice broke out into the seemingly-calm technician's mind.
      "Yes, Sergeant."
      The tech continued down the hall, sweat trickled down his scratched up face and adrenaline coursed through his nervous system as he rounded one of the hundreds of corners in the structure. Jake walked through a door that flickered green and then red as it shut behind him—meaning he was locked in, but it didn't matter, there had to be several other routes back to the med bay.
      "Jake-Jake-Jake-Jake-Jake-Jake-Jake..." repeated the voice of Calian over and over again until it faded out, the AI was starting to bother him.
      He ignored it for the moment and surveyed his surroundings; the tech stood in the middle of a large, shadowy room—and by the natural light from the outside shining through holes in the walls onto the ceiling, the roof was twenty meters from the floor.
      Jake slowly shuffled forward, continuing to peer up into the blackness, a soft drip echoed through the spacious room and echoed like water dripping into a pool deep in a cave.
      There was another drip that resonated, but this time quicker in tempo and louder. The frightened technician quickened his pace and then broke into a run, the dripping had stopped, but now a snarl broke into Jake's thoughts. He blindly searched for the door, but he managed to compose himself briefly and call up the structure's map. It took a few seconds until the chart had completely organized itself, everything on the subroutines that marked walls glowed ghostly green and the labels were a bright yellow.
      Jake stretched his hands far in front of him and watched the dot that pointed out his position moved towards the wall. Hundreds of red blips flickered around the rest of the map, but the tech assumed they were Flood, he couldn't tell if there were any survivors. Another low growl came from behind the technician who jumped and ran to where the door supposedly was. Without thinking he charged forward and felt metal brush against his uniform; the door then shut behind him.
      Red light flooded the narrow hallway Jake now stood in, a holo-display hovered directly beside the door, the technician tapped several buttons and the doors lights turned a dim scarlet.
      He sighed, wiped his forehead with his hand, and continued forward, his long shadow cast behind him in the red gloominess of the corridor. He looked back to where he had come in from through the glass and in the pale, red, light, he saw the deformed eyes of a Human Combat Form, dark green spittle foaming around its twisted lips.
      Jake shuddered at the thought of him turning into one of the creatures, but squelched the thought and continued on, he couldn't allow himself to be distracted. The hallway stretched every time the tired technician guessed that it would end, he hadn't had time to rest yet. What had only been hours had seemed like an eternity, struggling to outlive the ever-spreading Flood and escaping the ring would be longer than he thought.
      "I'm approaching the Generator Room," Jake whispered over the private channel on the COM.
      "Good, continue to inform us of anything suspicious and we'll come and get you out of any trouble." replied Peters sternly, his tone once again cut through the eerie silence.
      The ONI tech edged down the remainder of the hallway, it turned at a ninety degree angle to the left, but another door was fixed into the wall on the right. Jake walked to the door, looked behind him to see the adjacent corridor engulfed in a heavy shadow, and walked into the Generator Room.
      A watery smack was the first nauseating sound he heard when he stepped into the room; he walked forward ignoring the putrid odor that met his nostrils.
      "Always so...interfering, aren't we, technician? It's a shame, really, that you have been put to such uses." the faulty AI spoke clearly into the room. Jake removed the MA5B rifle that was slung around his shoulder, loaded it, clicked the safety off, and activated the light.
      The technician stopped in his tracks as he examined the shadowy surroundings, his weapon and the attached flashlight moved in unison while Jake's maneuvered the rifle.
      The beam of light concentrated on the walls moved around on the dull grey metal in circles, until the luminosity from the flashlight came across a long smear of red blood.
      "You are to...suffer the same consequences as the others." the AI announced, it's once smooth, confident tone had disappeared and turned into a voice of hatred and anger.
      Jake cast the light onto the floor, bodies of Humans and Flood alike littered the room. Several torsos of the late soldiers had been completely ripped open, intestines and organs lay on the floor but still hung onto the skin inside.
      The technician gagged and covered his mouth with his free hand, the weight of the weapon shifted and Jake almost lost his grip. He forced the emotion down along with the sickness; the light swung to where the generator was positioned, he cautiously shuffled towards it.
      "I'm attempting to reactivate the generator now," the technician said in an undertone over the COM, he sighed and took a deep breath, "I'll contact you once I'm finished."
      "Roger that."
      Jake unfastened the clip on his equipment that sealed it, a soft beeping sound emitted from the metallic container and it slowly opened. A soft, blue florescent light glowed from the solid box and lit up part of the room. It was carefully set to the ground by the tech along with the Assault Rifle—its light reflected off the floor and onto a greasy green blotch on the wall.
      The nervous technician sighed again and reached into the radiant blue kit, he pulled out the necessary tool—which in this case was a laser cutter; he needed to open up the power conduit.
      He triggered the device, held it at the protective covering and clicked the button, a red light burned through the metal; seconds quickly passed and the covering clattered to the floor.
      Something was wrong, though, as the power was only deactivated, not neutralized or sabotaged. The tech blinked in confusion, and then flicked on the switch, light flooded the room along with every other single room in the structure. Jake's pupils contracted accustomed to the sudden brightness that entered the room.
      The technician noticed the same green substance dripping from the ceiling, but ignored it; he needed to get back quickly. Jake sealed the power conduit and reinforced it with two layers of Titanium-A metal—scraps had been taken from the Prowlers when they had first landed.
      "I've completed the task," Jake said confidently, "I'm heading back."
The technician eyed the room, blood—both Human and Flood—covered every square centimeter of the room, it stuck to the roof, walls, and floor. He continued to walk towards the doorway, but it suddenly glowed red and locked. Jake heard something rustle in the back corner, turned to face it, and managed to scream as he saw one of the Covenant Combat Forms crawl out of a large shaft.
      "I've got contacts!" the terrified technician yelled into the COM, "The doors are locked! Help me—"
      The creature launched towards Jake who held down the trigger on his MA5B, bullets thudded into the abomination's flesh and sprayed blood out the opposite side.
      The Combat Form crumpled in mid-air as the Assault Rifle emptied the remainder of the ammunition; Jake slammed in a fresh clip and watched in wide-eyes as another one of the creatures clambered out of the duct.
      "Requesting—" the technician grunted as he shot off two more rounds, "backup!"

2302 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Ringworld Halo 07, in med bay.

      "Requesting—" Jake's voice echoed over the COM in a gasp, "backup!"
      The female Marine—Chelsea Dewhirst—felt anger boil up and tears trickle down her face; she quickly grabbed one of the Shotguns on the cart and loaded it.
      The scientists were arguing with Cotters and Cunliffe, the Sergeant had his face buried in his hands and muttering. It was a perfect chance to run out, and she wasn't going to let Jake die, not after he had released her from cryosleep and saved her from an almost certain death.
      Chelsea dashed out the door and ran down the hall—she ignored the yells of the others as she rounded the corner to her left with the Shotgun raised. Two Human Combat Forms were blasted by three barrages from the female Marine's weapon and taken down; Chelsea continued to sprint down the hallway.
      The Sergeant yelled something over the COM, but in the Marine's sudden adrenaline spike, nothing could be made over the channel. She made it through a doorway, taking down five forms with one barrage to a Carrier Form that promptly exploded.
      Dewhirst kicked one of the Infection Forms that had been thrown from the Carrier, it popped as the others swarmed behind Chelsea who ran through another door.
      She ran down another intersection without encountering any Flood, and quickly ripped apart several more of the creatures with a well placed grenade once she made it into a larger room. Debris kicked up and showered the Marine, who quickly ran through a broken doorway that hung on its hinges—it was just wide enough for her to fit through.
      Infection Forms were hanging on the roof down the next corridor, but four blasts popped them all. The Marine took time to reload and continued down the extremely long hallway, she felt her adrenaline leave her system and get replaced with fear. But the confident soldier continued on until she came to the end of the hall, a door was placed to her right and another corridor was to her left.
      Shots and screams echoed from behind the door, and she immediately realized it was Jake; "Generator Room" had been neatly printed onto the wall. The light on the door glowed red, but Chelsea took out a code-retriever and stuck it onto the door, data surged into the device and the Marine punched the correct buttons.
      The door opened, and the ONI technician stumbled out, blood—green and red—covered his face and uniform, he fired off another round of his MA5B and tripped to the ground.
      "Jake!"
      Chelsea grabbed the fallen tech by the collar of his outfit and dragged him down the hall while cursing and shooting at a Combat Form that ran out of the room.
      Jake was screaming and firing at the creatures as the bewildered Marine continued to pull him down the hallway; bullet casings flew into the air and clattered onto the ground, making a long trail of shells that littered the corridor.
      Chelsea pulled him out into the large room and shot one of the fuel canisters that were placed in the corner, fire billowed out of the punctures before the cylinders exploded. Burning, twisted metal rained down onto Chelsea and Jake, who continued to shoot at the creatures. A piece of scorching rubble landed onto the female Marine's weapon-holding hand, she cried in pain and gritted her teeth, but didn't let go of the Shotgun.
      The horrified Marine hauled the technician down the hallways she had used to get to the Generator Room, but she was nearing exhaustion.
      Flood poured out of a shaft in front of them, not Infection Forms, but seven Human Combat Forms. They all had Assault Rifles and didn't hesitate to use them; bullets zipped past the Marines face before she let off a blast from the Shotgun.
      A stray shot pierced her shoulder, and another cut into her stomach, she winced and screamed but refused to let go, she would never let go until they got back to the med bay. Jake managed to shoot off several ligaments of the Combat Forms, the bullets ceased and the creatures leapt towards the retreating ONI personnel.
      Chelsea rounded another corner and realized she had made it; she was back at the med bay. The Marine pulled the technician back to the door and felt relief sweep into her body.
      The pursuing monsters chased down the hall as she squeezed off another barrage of bullets. But she didn't witness the Combat Forms die, however, as the hallway became a mess of smeared colors and she fainted.
      Please let Jake be okay, she thought, don't let him die on me. The floor rushed up to her very quickly and her vision winked out in a grey haze.

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 5: Assisting the Evolution)
Date: 7 March 2004, 8:00 AM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 5: Assisting the Evolution)
2342 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Ringworld Halo 07, in Forerunner structure in med bay.

      The distraught technician opened his eyes; the plain grey metal of the roof greeted him and he recalled what had happened. He had gone with the Sergeant and the two other Marines to get weapons and supplies, they had been successful. Jake also reminisced that the Flood had disabled the power and he volunteered to go reactivate the generator. He had been successful in that as well, but something was wrong, Jake couldn't remember what had happened after he had reached the room...
      Tired and confused, Jake swung his legs over the medical bed and rested his feet on the floor; he rubbed his temples with his forefingers.
      A sharp pain lanced from where his fingers touched to his legs, the technician immediately brought his hands down in front of his face and saw them covered in red blood.
      More intense pain shot up and down his body causing Jake to shout in anguish; the technician collapsed back onto the soft mattress and sighed as the pain disappeared.
      The female scientist walked in suddenly to the injured technician's aid and held up a needle, she happily flicked the glass and the lime-colored liquid moved around.
      "You need to rest for awhile; the cerebral tissue of the brain was damaged and is currently being mended as we speak." Sara Medds said softly as she injected the needle into Jake's tired arms, the technician whimpered in a confused pain.
      "What happened?"
      "You're still in shock..." she muttered and retracted the needle from his skin, "I can go into detail, if you would like."
      Jake reluctantly nodded.
      "You went to the Generator Room, fixed it, and when you were heading out the door a... Combat Form attacked you, followed by several more. Chelsea ran to your position—once you had called for assistance—and got you out of the room. She managed to drag you back, but..." the scientist paused and locked eyes with Jake, "Chelsea took two bullets from Flood while she was hauling you back to the med bay, but she's wounded bad...and she is dying."
      The technician stared wide-eyed at Medds, but in his undermined condition he didn't dare move. "What?" Jake choked these words and his eyes started to water, she had saved him at the risk of her own life.
      "I'm sorry, Jake, but it was her decision, and she knew what she was doing," the scientist pocketed the needle, patted the tech on the shoulder, and walked out of the room.
      A mix of anger, love, and gratefulness filled him at the thought of the female Marine dragging him down a hallway while he screamed hysterically. Jake shuddered and felt the contents of the needle begin to affect his system. The technician felt his eyes droop and the room begin to swirl around him, he soon yawned and fell asleep with the courtesy from the drugs.

      Jake woke up; the soft humming of machinery from far away filled the small medical room. He sat up quickly and jumped off the bed, his pain had completely disappeared and he felt fifty percent better. Not a particularly great boost of strength, but it was a start.
      The technician strolled out of the room and flexed his shoulders; an ache came from that area of his body. The two scientists and the three male Marines smiled at him, they were all sitting down on several different-looking chairs.
      Jake managed to wave with a grim smile on his face, "I'm going to see Chelsea; I need to thank her."
      Sara nodded as Bennitz moved into the room, it was slightly darker than the room he stayed in and there was more medical equipment. Storage lockers were fixed into the wall directly across from the doorway. There was a sudden groan and Jake moved farther into the small, square room.
      As he passed the edge of the wall there was another faint grown and he saw Chelsea—the Marine that had saved his life—sitting on a bed covered in bandages and a LSS hooked up to her.
      She didn't notice him though, even as Jake tried to make a sound to alert her of his presence, but was unsuccessful. The technician walked over to the bed, but stopped once his foot was several centimeters from the stone that held the mattress up.
      "Chelsea, I just wanted to thank you for..." he paused as the wounded soldier groaned and twisted her torso to face Jake, the IV cords stretched and tightened as she did so. The female Marine managed a smile.
      "I feel terrible, Jake, but it was worth it, and I know you're going to get all of those people off the ring"—she coughed and held a hand to her mouth, blood trickled out from it—"alive."
      "What are you talking about? You are going to make it, you can't die." the technician said confidently, but even he recognized a faint tone of doubt lined his voice, "You saved me."
      She smiled affectionately and massaged her arm, "I know, but it was worth it. I'm dying, so it doesn't matter."
      Jake still didn't like the feeling of death, or knowing the feeling of someone dying, and he forced tears back, she had risked her life for his, it touched him. He would never get familiar to death, never. She coughed again, but it was heavier, and her skin color was flushed from her face.
      Heavy footfalls echoed from the doorway, and Jake turned around to face the Marine, Chris Cotters. Dark circles rounded under his eyes and he looked like he had been to hell, the technician could even say he looked worse than himself.
      "She needs rest, leave her alone." snapped the Marine.
      "Chelsea saved me, I think all I can do is comfort her."
      "You're not calming her; you're killing her, look at her face! It's your fault, if she dies..." Chris was rambling on, and Jake couldn't help but feel that the Marine had feelings for the dying female, or if he was simply insane.
      "Calm down"—the nervous technician held up both his hands—"She isn't going to die, don't worry, she'll be better in a few hours." Jake lied, he felt horrible doing it, but he was scared from the actions of the Marine and decided it was for the best,
      "She better be, or I'll kill you, I loved her, man, and if she dies...there is nothing worth living for." Chris was using erratic hand gestures and waving them above his head, making him look like a complete fool.
      Jake gulped and looked at the Marine on the bed, she was pale and her eyes were closed. There was a sudden clatter of metal and the technician turned to see Chris holding a scalpel in his right hand, derision marked the Marines expression. Jake knew that the soldier was crazy and backed up against the wall.
      "You killed her." Cotters said quietly, raising an eyebrow mockingly, his breathing quickened and beads of sweat dribbled down his face. "You killed her!"
      "No I didn't." Jake had nothing else to say, but the crazed Marine stepped over to the uneasy tech and held the scalpel in front of his neck.
      "Yes you did! Don't lie to me! You killed her, fuck." Chris spat, spittle flew from his mouth and landed on Jake's face which didn't move a muscle, "You fucking killed her, and do you know what I'm going to do to you?"
      Jake didn't have time for this, if he was going to act, he had to do it then. The Marine left his stomach open while keeping his right hand on the tech's right shoulder and the left hand holding the blade to Jake's neck. The ONI tech raised his knee upwards in a swift motion and hit the wild Marine's abdomen; Chris cried in pain and doubled over, but not before scraping the technician's neck with the scalpel.
      Cotters roared and threw the razor blade at Jake; the sharp object flew past his ear and burrowed itself three centimeters into the stone wall. The tech raised his fists and knocked the Marine three times in the face, blood covered Jake's knuckles but it wasn't his.
      "You"—Chris kicked the tech in the stomach causing him to reel over in pain—"killed her!"
      Jake was about to return a punch when a sudden thumping resonated through the room, the fighting ONI personnel stopped immediately and looked at one of the shafts that had been reinforced.
      The Titanium-A armor bulged outwards instantly and Jake ran out of the room, the other Marines and scientists were already in front of the doorway.
      "Infection Forms!" Jake exclaimed as he rubbed his face, "Close the door!"
      "Chris is in there!" snapped the Sergeant at the distant creaking of the metal.
      Maxell didn't care, he hit the button to close and lock the half a meter thick door. It shut silently, and he turned around with a look of grim triumph on his expression, the other personnel looked at him keenly.
      "We all die if we don't work together," the cowardly scientist said, "Jake said it himself, and Cotters was weak-willed, he couldn't have lasted much longer."
      It was sad, but the truth, Chris was gutless and would've snapped under pressure—if that wasn't what had happened seconds before. The ONI personnel walked to the door and peered intently through the window glass; witnessing hundreds of Infection Forms pour out of the shaft and take down Chris. Chelsea wasn't able to be seen as the stone wall blocked the sight, but she was as good as infected.
      "We need to go." Jake ordered suddenly, "If they can break through Titanium-A, then they will eventually break through that door right there."
      "Grab the weapons, the supplies, and the medical equipment!" ordered the Sergeant and everyone immediately started stacking any necessary gear onto the ONI trolley.
      More thumps resonated from the bulky door that impeded the parasitic creatures from entering—for the meantime.
      The Sergeant held on to the trolley's handlebar and pushed it to the door, Jake hit the button in a rapid swing and the surviving personnel dashed out the door. No contacts.
      They continued quickly down the hall, but the male scientist asked, "Where do we go now that we have nowhere to run?" Jake pointed at an orange arrow that had been stenciled onto the wall; it read "Mess Hall."
      No one said anything as they wandered the empty halls, pale lights overhead shone down on the weary soldiers, scientists, and technician. Several minutes passed by as they continued traveling the wide corridors, the personnel followed the arrows that had been neatly painted on the dark, grey walls.
      After a total time of thirty-two minutes; they made it to the Mess Hall door, the tall pedestal beside it clearly confirmed the survivor's position.
      "Great, now let's get inside, I have a feeling that they're watching us." whispered Maxell.
      "Right." replied the technician and stepped up to the door; it didn't open, but instead made a soft buzzing sound.
      "What have I told you?" interjected the insane AI in its ghostly tone, "We have staged a lockdown, you are not able to enter, please leave. You have been troublesome enough already."
      Jake pulled a data eraser from his pocket and held it up to one of the cameras that hung from the ceiling. Calian robotically sighed and said, "Threats are of no use, Human, go away, or prepare to die."
      The technician put away the device and instead brought out a small rectangular pad, he attached it to the doorway.
      "A system-hacking tool," said Sara in awe, "I thought ONI had banned those due to the fact that many people were misusing them."
      Jake managed a nervous laugh and stuck the system-hacker to the door, numbers and symbols scrolled down the holographic panel. The technician examined the string of characters and pressed the appropriate keys, several different high-pitched tones were emitted from the small device and the door slid open slowly.
      "Meddlesome Humans." the angered AI remarked and stopped talking, the ONI personnel walked into the hall.
      Hundreds of weapons were scattered around the room along with ammunition cases and empty clips, but there was no blood or bodies. The Marines examined the guns—which mostly consisted of Shotguns and Assault Rifles—but reported that they were all empty and only needed the appropriate ammo.
      Jake shrugged, they didn't need anymore supplies, they were set already—he reluctantly sat down and sighed.
      "I don't know why ONI would send us to this ring." Maxell interrupted to the silence, "They knew something would go wrong, one way or another."
      "Yeah, those fucking noncoms deserve to come down here and see what it's like—getting killed and all." replied the tough Marine, Alex, and dabbed off sweat that had dribbled down his soot-stained forehead.
      "They had a perfectly good reason to send us to this ring!" Sara said sternly and sat up from a bench, "They sent us to study the Flood, if that Spartan—the Master Chief—hadn't given ONI that data crystal, we would have never learned about the species."
      "And it was damned lucky that they found this ring so soon and that barely any Covenant had landed on it." replied Maxell with a mock grin, "But guess it was meant to be, huh, Jake?"
      "Sure." he replied doubtfully, he'd much rather be back on Earth with his family, he'd do anything... "I just want to get off this ring."
      "We all do Jake, but we can't just stay idol. Let's plan our next move, where do we go next?" asked the Sergeant calmly.
      "The only way we can get off this ring is by getting to the Prowler, if we can make it to the landing zones, then we can take off and break through the atmosphere."
      "And then what?" asked Alex brusquely and frowned, "What the hell can we do if we're just floating in space?"
      "Slipspace jump; Prowlers are compatible with it." replied the technician confidently.
      "Well then, let's get a move on." the Sergeant remarked and smiled, "Can't wait here all day, and we certainly can't rest, the Flood will grow as we sleep."
      "Correct, now let's go." the male scientist, Maxell said and walked over to the extremely thick security door; he hit the button beside the doorway and it silently opened.
      The scientist turned around to see outside of the room, but staring at him was a familiar face, but it was twisted and deformed.
      "Chelsea!" Maxell managed to gasp before the Flood Form knocked him down in a spray of red blood.
      Jake grabbed a Pistol of the trolley and shot the once-Human Combat Form's arm with the tentacles, the appendage ripped off the body with a wet snap and the creature stopped.
      The combat clothes that she had been wearing in the recovery bed clung to her distorted flesh; the metal that attached to the ragged UNSC outfit was covered in green slime.
      The creature moaned and attempted to launch itself towards Jake, but slipped and fell to the ground in the process.
      "Find something to tie her up! This could be essential for studying purposes!" ordered Sara, her eyes were wide with keen interest; Alex and the Sergeant grabbed the creature and dragged her over to a stretcher.
      The Infection Form burrowed under the Combat Form's flesh caused the body to jerk around and try to wriggle out of the soldier's grasps, but was unsuccessful. Jake walked over to where the moaning Flood Form was writhing and helped lift it onto the stretcher, it was a struggle but they managed. The Sergeant and Marine undid their belts and wrapped them around the Combat Form and tightened it, the creature stopped thrashing around.
      Maxell stood up and clutched his shoulder, his skin was torn in that spot and leaked blood. The scientist walked over to the trolley, grabbed a supply nutrient and biofoam injector, and used both.
      "We need to rest, it's a necessity." complained the male scientist, the tied down creature snarled and started to squirm again, "We won't be able to continue if we don't sleep."
      "I unfortunately agree," said Medds, "We need sleep."
      "Fine," replied the Sergeant, "We'll all take turns watching the entrance. I'll be first."
      No one else talked as they almost immediately drifted to sleep on the tables, Peters looked down on everyone with a sullen face thinking of what he had just said.

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 6: Nothing to Lose)
Date: 1 April 2004, 2:02 AM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 6: Nothing to Lose)
0102 Hours, January 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Halo 07 in ancient Forerunner structure, in the Mess Hall.

      The technician was roused from sleep as Alex's boot nudged him in the stomach. Jake tiredly rubbed his eyes and stretched, for the first few seconds he couldn't remember anything and felt peaceful. But after he saw the weary faces of the other personnel his fears flooded back into him.
      "Did everyone get a decent rest?" calmly asked the female scientist who picked a Pistol off the trolley and slammed a fresh clip into it.
      "Now where did you learn to do that?" asked the Sergeant as he stared at Sara, who switched the safety off and aimed the weapon at the wall.
      "Alex taught me while the rest of you were resting," she replied as she holstered the gun, "I thought it would come in handy."
      The rest of the ONI workers grabbed weapons and loaded them with the appropriate ammunition, several high-pitched clacks echoed out through the small room.
      The Mess Hall was dark; the shadows hugged tightly to the corners but wavered whenever the damaged lights fixed into the ceiling flickered. Jake looked into the fearful eyes of Maxell, sweat trickled down his soot-stained forehead and were absorbed by his twitching eyebrows. The other scientist—the female—seemed much calmer than Teck; behind her glasses were her pale blue iris's that glowed with confidence and composure. Jake's eyes wandered around the soldier's faces, even though their brows were speckled with sweat, the mixed emotions of assurance, anger, and composedness etched their expressions.
      "So"—interjected Mike as he shouldered his Assault Rifle—"we're going to go down that huge passage to get to the landing zones?"
      The technician reluctantly nodded.
      "I'm all for it, but...we'll be sitting ducks walking through that narrow corridor," the Sergeant paused, but his eyes still locked with Jakes', "It takes forty minutes to go down the D-12, I've been through it, shafts are fixed into the roofs every four meters. Flood would be on us in a second."
      "That's a chance we're going to have to risk," replied Jake with a tone of certainty, "We have no other choice."
      There was a sudden, awkward silence, as the ONI personnel shuffled around and stared down at the floor, Sara was the first to speak up, "Come on, we should leave now."
      "What about Chelsea—"Alex stopped talking as he looked back at where the creature was tied down, the sorrow for his friend hadn't left his system. Jake couldn't blame him; he had only witnessed her death hours before.
      "We bring her with us, she'll be rather important for studying purposes as I have said before." replied Medds, the scientist, "We only have to bring her to the Prowler."
      Alex and the Sergeant grabbed the gurney with the altered Chelsea on it and slowly pushed it towards the door. The technician slammed the button that was fixed into the wall by the door with his fist; the metal slid apart silently and revealed the darkened corridors. The quick pitter-patter of Infection Forms filled Jakes' ears along with the odd groaning his hearing had accustomed to.
      The stretcher holding the writhing Combat Form was pushed through the door, and as the creature groaned and its head twisted to face Jake, the technician felt a lump form in his throat and his stomach groaned. Chelsea's once-attractive expression had been replaced with rotting skin—several bones protruded from its cheeks, flesh covered its mouth and nostrils.
      The survivors singled out of the room, quickly dispatching a Carrier Form that lingered at the far end of the hall with Pistols. It exploded; sending its own flesh, blood, and bone onto the walls, the parasitic creatures flew out of it, however, and latched onto the walls.
      The Sergeant shoved the loaded gurney down the hallway, it drifted towards where the Infection Forms had gathered onto the floor and rammed into them. Every one of the bulbous forms popped in a spray of olive-hue flesh.
      The ONI personnel jogged down the hall and made their way through a damaged doorway, sparks flew from the holo-port and burned their skin, but they continued to edge on.
      "We need to get to the D-12 corridor," Jake said in a raspy voice, "That's the only way to the location of the Prowler."
      "And that hallway goes under the plateau and under part of the lake, right?" inquired the male scientist with a roguish expression, a change from the normally complaining and scared Maxell.
      "That's affirmative, Teck, but we'd better get a move on, don't want the Flood to beat us to the Prowlers."
      Jake had turned away from the conversing survivors and called up the structures subroutines; he highlighted the D-12 and magnified the section. Movement all around the corridor—above, below, and to the sides of the hallway showed major collections of glowing red blips. Logic wasn't a friend right about now; they would have to make one long dash down the massive passage.
      But they were going to have to get to the entrance of the corridor first.
      "Come on," ordered Mike as he grabbed the hovering ONI stretcher, "let's get going."
      Private Cunliffe was the first into the next room, followed by Jake, then the scientists and Sarge. The lights had dimmed in this section, and the only thing illuminating it was the holo-panels on the far side of the room. The personnel shuffled through the area hurriedly and made their way down a hall.
      There was a sudden explosion and metal showered down on the survivors, the steel fragments clattered onto the ancient floor. Infection Forms poured out seconds after as the ONI personnel dived out of the way of the falling creatures while firing their weapons. Stifled pops echoed through the open hallway as three of the parasites leaped towards Jake, the technician stumbled backwards and collapsed against the wall.
      The first two Infection Forms hit the wall and burst, but the last one managed to drive its razor-sharp tentacle into the tech's left leg.
      Jake raised his head and screamed in agony; white flashes from the others' weapons illuminated the wide corridor as the bullets left the barrels. The shots ripped through the parasite's flesh, causing it to retract its penetrator, and explode in a small spray of green blood and skin.
      The Sergeant once again shoved the floating gurney towards the largest accumulation of the squid-resembling creatures; it collided with the first row of Infection Forms and initiated several more soft explosions. Peters flexed his right shoulder as he stroked it with his free hand; blood oozed from a wound as his fingers intricately rubbed the gash.
      Alex helped the dazed technician up—Jake's legs trembled and he almost collapsed, tears from the intense pain welled up in his eyes.
      "Come on," ordered the Sarge, "Get that kid filled up with biofoam and let's get the hell outta here."
      Sara stepped over to Jake and took out a biofoam injector from her lab coat's pocket, stuck it into his injured leg, and clicked a button to insert the foaming contents into his bloody hole. The technician sighed as the pain that had lanced through his body subsided and was replaced with an icy cold substance, he attempted to stand and was successful.
      Jake limped over to the door and hit in several commands on the holo-panel that was near the entrance. The metal doors slid apart quickly and revealed the perfectly square room where the technician had been only several hours ago. The D-12 doorway's light glowed a confident green as the survivors swept into the room.
      Jake held his breath as he stepped over a fallen Flood corpse, its bones jutted out from its tattered, green flesh and its limbs had been thrown across the room. A firefight had definitely broken out, but for what reason? Had some other ONI survivors tried to get down the corridor and get to the Prowlers? Had they left the ring already leaving Jake and everyone else stranded?
      Anxiety and wonder filled the technician's thoughts, but then another thing occurred to him, what if they left on the Prowler and let everyone else to die?
      Jake noticed that the others were staring at him; he approached the D-12 access panel with the pending emotion of fear and tapped in another string of commands on the glowing blue holo-panel.
      The door didn't open, however, as the last button was tapped. The radiant green light implanted into the Forerunner metal exploded and sent a stream of sparks onto the floor. Jake cursed as he moved towards the door and kicked it.
      The striking sound of metal against metal reverberated around the room, Jake—who thought he had triggered something—instantly moved backwards. The doors bulged outwards before exploding and sending large portions of wreckage across the room, each piece of debris trailed a blue flame as it skittered over the floor.
      Infection Forms flooded out of the broken hatch as the Sergeant roared and primed a grenade, he hurled it across the room. An explosion rang out and caused Jake to stumble backwards, and in his weakened state, it didn't take long for him to trip from the blast.
      "Don't stop firing!" barked Peters as more of the small, bulbous creatures exploded sending shards of flesh into the air.
      The technician held the trigger down on his Pistol in confusion, aligning the barrel with an Elite-resembling Combat Form that jumped through the smoke that had been emitted from the frag explosion.
      Bullets tore into the creatures' abdomen causing blood, flesh, and brittle bone to spurt out the opposite end. The living carcass dropped to the ground and popped any Infection Form that was under it, but more of the creatures crawled over the body and made their way towards Jake.
      Muzzle flashes from the soldiers' weapons lit up the room as the rounds were concentrated on the parasites. Another grenade blast killed more of the bulbous creatures as several more Combat Forms stepped through the doorway. Jake stood, ignoring the unsteady feeling, and shot at several of the monstrosities.
      One of the creatures were ripped apart by a Shotgun blast held by Alex, the Infection Form concealed in the chest was tossed out and quickly exploded.
      Jake shot the "head" off one of the Combat Forms, the skull—which was enveloped in rotten flesh—flew across the room and shattered on the ancient wall. The technician slipped on a broken Flood ligament and stumbled to the ground as the pain in his leg returned, Sara shot down a Combat Form that had leaped over the fallen survivor, ending the frantic firefight.
      The brave scientist helped Jake back onto his feet; she pointed at a wall and spoke: "Looks like Covenant have been here before us. Maybe we'll find some near the landing zones."
      The technician took a closer look at the walls as he shone the light on his Pistol at it. Many plasma holes had been etched into the antique metal, each one deeper and wider than the last, it was certain that the Covenant had been here, the Flood didn't always resort to their weapons.
      There was a sudden yelp of surprise from Maxell as Jake turned back to the damaged D-12 entranceway, standing there—glowing a ghostly blue from the plasma swords—were two Elites, mandibles open, energy blades raised.
      "Fire!" barked the Sarge, "These sons of bitches have shields!"
      Jake didn't hesitate to bring up his Pistol and pull the trigger, but the chamber was empty and the technician quickly slammed a fresh clip into the weapon. He crouched behind a fallen Covenant communication apparatus and raised the gun over his head and fired.
      The others had taken shelter behind crevices in the wall as the Elites walked confidently through the room, the plasma swords shining a pale blue—casting an ethereal radiance around the aliens.
      Jake peered over the side of the Covenant equipment to see one of the Elites take a trio of bullets from the Sarge, the protective shields flared suddenly as an explosion rang out.
      "Take that you fuckers!" crowed Alex as he shot the alien.
      The creature roared as several bullets tore into its armor and passed through its flesh, spraying purple blood out of the opposite side of the body. The technician delivered the final shot to put the creature out of its misery, its energy blade clattered to the floor and snapped off once the fail-safes activated.
      The other Elite had taken cover behind a large slab of rubble, waiting for its shields to recharge. Maxell foolishly ran to where the alien was hoping to finish it off, but yelled in shock as the Elite lunged out at him with its sword glimmering.
      The radiating energy blade arced through the air in one swift motion; the scientist stumbled back as the sword came down—missing Teck by bare centimeters.
      Jake, Sara, Alex, and the Sergeant opened fire simultaneously; the staccato rumble of Assault Rifles filled the technician's ears as him and the female scientist fired their Pistols. The Elite, however, kept swinging at the agile scientist with more determination than ever.
      Bullets pinged off of the walls and alien's shields as spent bullet casings littered the ground. The Elite bent his knees and stretched out his arms as the human weaponry disabled the protective shields—it roared ferociously and continued to stab at the male scientist.
      Maxell threw his hands up—hoping to block the sword with his arms—and felt the blazing hot plasma cut into his index finger. He screamed, withdrew his bleeding hand, and fell back against the wall, large beads of sweat dribbled down his sullen brow. His severed finger rolled harmlessly into the foot of the ferocious alien.
      The Elite chortled in its own alien tongue and raised the energy sword; its blue light blazed with a sudden force and lit up the room in a pale hue. Jake aimed for the head as the blade came down on the scientist, but before the plasma sword cut into Maxell, a bullet tore through its helmet and the alien dropped its weapon and collapsed onto its knees.
      Alex ran up to the fallen Covenant soldier, aimed his Assault Rifle at the alien's bloodied face, and emptied his weapons magazine into the Elite. Thick, purple gore splattered against the wall and onto the angered Marine's clothing, skin, and rifle, the alien's face was completely blown away as the ammo-counter turned to "0".
      Sara bandaged up Maxell and they started their long run down the corridor, with the male scientist complaining about the pain of his recently sustained wound.
      Peters led the personnel down the kilometer-long hallway with the hovering Flood-loaded stretcher—the dazed and confused survivors ran as fast as they could endure, thousands of thoughts flooded their doubting minds.
      "How much longer?" wheezed Alex.
      "Only another couple hundred meters," replied the Sergeant in an easy tone, if he was in pain or discomfort, he definitely wasn't showing it, "Suck it up, Cunliffe, be thankful that you're still alive."
      The Marine stopped talking after the Sarge's remark; Jake grew weary as did the others, but pushed himself to go on. His forehead burned as perspiration dripped down, it felt like his legs were being weighed down by bricks, his saliva tasted bitter and he tried to spit onto the floor—but every time he tried it would stick to his mouth spatter his ONI uniform.
      Sara was the first to stop, and the fatigued technician followed, but pretended to see what she was doing to show that he wasn't weakened.
      "What..." panted the technician, his stomach growled, "are you doing?"
      She held up a hand and covered her sweat-covered face, the tough, female scientist then put her hands on her knees and gagged; vomit spewed from her mouth and onto the Forerunner architecture.
      Jake took the time to examine the other scientist's condition; his bandaged hand was now coated in dark, red blood which he continued to grab at with his uninjured hand. He could hear the female scientist retching as he peered down the hall; the D-12 kept going until it was engulfed in a deep shadow, the technician couldn't make out much more.
      He turned to Sara, the color of her skin had been completely drained from her face, but her eye's held onto the same pale blue color that he had noticed before.
      The scientist injected herself with a stim-pack and swallowed some nutrient supplements, and soon she was fit to go.
      The ONI survivors continued down the hallway for several more meters when three Carrier forms dropped from a shaft in the ceiling. The Sergeant, who had once again taken the lead, shoved the floating gurney past the creatures.
      Several bullets exited the chamber of the technician's weapon and tore through the nearest bloated forms decaying flesh. The size of the creature doubled, its flesh bulged outwards, and its tentacle arms thrashed before the Flood form exploded in a messy combination of bone and flesh.
      The other monstrosities were tossed down the hallway from the blast and beyond the halted stretcher—two more muted explosions echoed down the hallway, the Infection Forms were flown free.
      Alex let off a whole magazine at the scurrying parasites, and in a few seconds, nothing else accompanied the frightened ONI personnel in the cramped corridor.
      "Keep going." ordered the Sergeant.
      They proceeded down the long remainder of the hallway, but at a slow pace, Sara still suffered from dehydration and slowed them all down, but for the greater benefit.
      When they reached the area of the hall that was completely engulfed in shadow, they stopped and checked how much farther they had to go.
      "We still have one hundred meters to go," put in the Sergeant, "I suggest we take a good break, this hallway wasn't meant for runnin'."
      The weary technician collapsed against the wall, the iciness of the wall came as a supported energy boost as he closed his drooping eyes. His blood burned, and he could taste copper, his breaths came in ragged gasps.
      There was a sudden explosion from the far end of the hall, the way they had entered and had spent the last forty minutes trekking across.
      "What the fuck was that?" asked Maxell as he peered down the hallway.
      There was another explosion and hundreds of bobbing shapes poured out from the smoke and debris, Jake turned to stare wide-eyed at the Sergeant.
      "Flood," he responded calmly, "We better get goin', people, don't want to let them get caught up to us."
      Even though the creatures were over hundreds of meters away, he could still feel the force of their weight slamming down into the floor, shaking the D-12 with every step. The technician backed up slowly, the wave of monsters coming towards them disappeared from sight as he turned around and ran along with the others. It was only the beginning.

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 7: Survivors)
Date: 9 April 2004, 4:49 AM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 7: Survivors)
0213 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, in structure heading down corridor D-12.

      The silent thumping of decomposed feet echoed down the massive hallway, bouncing off the thick concrete walls and rumbling the D-12. They were almost at the end, a faint border of illumination lit up the darkness many meters ahead, but it was close.
      The pain had subsided in Jake's leg, but the thirst and tiredness had gotten to him, and he grunted with every step. The others jogged slowly in front of him in the dark, their footfalls drowned out from the pounding Flood. The survivors were almost there, the passage was coming to an end. Perfect, they could escape and leave the overrun ringworld behind. But the thought of leaving any possible survivors came to enter the technician's mind, and thought hard before they exited the D-12.
      Where do we go after we board the Prowler? You certainly don't know how to control one! a voice that didn't belong to his own echoed through his skull. Besides, do you really expect to get anywhere even if you do reach space?
      He honestly didn't, with the lack of people to control the ship, and possibility that Flood wandered the corridors the Prowler; he didn't really expect to get anywhere.
      That's why he thought that there had to be survivors, even if there were only scientists and other technicians, they could still pilot the ship home. The thought lightened his mood, and so did the fresh air that greeted him as he walked up the ramp and exited the D-12. The sight amazed him.
      Longsword fighters were landed on the patterned Forerunner concrete along with Pelicans in random places, the Prowler—although smaller than most ONI spacecrafts—still towered over the aircrafts, but the sun that cast its light upon Halo's surface were blocked by a massive amount of clouds. There were footfalls, many of them, and Jake for a moment thought they were hostiles. He raised his Pistol and pointed it at the direction of the sound.
      A voice, however, echoed behind a large slab of ravaged stone, its tone was friendly but nervous.
      "Hey, we have survivors!"
      A shape stepped out from behind the block, it was a Marine clad in the standard ONI-issued armor, he spoke again, "Well, hurry up! Get over here!"
      Jake's heart lightened and he laughed, as did Peters and Alex's, the ONI personnel ran to the soldier, all memory of the Flood forgotten. A name scrolled over the Marine's head and labeled him as an ONI Marine from Bravo platoon. The technician remembered that particular squad from when they had first landed on the ring, they had been the ones that cleared out the structure and secured the plateau. Bravo was one of the best platoon's that ONI had formed. The Sergeant pushed the ONI gurney with the combat form along with them.
      "Acknowledged, Lieutenant, sending men to your position." a deep, brusque voice spoke up over the COM, "How many are there?"
      Jake pondered on how the communication network was back up and running, it hadn't been functioning before, or it was a possible outcome that the transmissions couldn't find their way out of the thick-walled structure.
      "Five, sir, they came out from the D-12 on foot," he let out a kindly chuckle, "They must've come here for a good reason, but I'll let you discuss that with 'em later."
      "I gotcha, send them over to us as soon as we get them."
      Several more Marines emerged from behind the ancient blocks of unknown stones, with Assault Rifles at the ready, they eyed the weary personnel. Although no one said anything, Jake knew what they were thinking. How did these guys get out? The technician smiled bitterly, a cut had been forged into his brow and was bleeding, and he wiped it off hastily. The Sergeant looked happy and stepped forward, holding out his hand.
      "First Sergeant Mike Peters," he said roughly, "In charge of Alpha Team... or what's left of it."
      "Good to see you, Sergeant, I'm Second Lieutenant Oliver Packs," replied the soldier as he shook hands with Peters, "We need to get you inside the Prowler to talk to Captain Corons, give the combat form to the next scientist you see."
      "Corons is still alive?" asked a surprised Private Cunliffe.
      "Affirmative, Private, now hurry, let's get you inside."
      They followed the Lieutenant through the numerous ONI and UNSC aircrafts, computer terminals, and radar diodes, with every step taking them closer to the Prowler that loomed above. The sun was peaking out over the clouds right then, casting its light rays onto the ringworld and causing the ONI spaceship to throw its shadow across the landing zone. Jake followed Peters and Cunliffe as they trailed Oliver Packs, the two scientists shuffled behind the technician. The Marines that had appeared behind the Lieutenant before had assembled in Beta formation and were cautiously glancing around. This brought the thought of the Flood storming through the kilometer long passage to Jake's mind.
      "Sir?"
      "Yes, technician?"
      "The Flood are approaching through the D-12."
      "What?" the Lieutenant wheeled around, his face was still marked with bravery, "Come, we need to get to the Captain quickly."
      They made the rest of the way through rubble and electronic equipment until they reached the Titanium-A battle armor of the Prowler, a door parted for them as they stepped inside. A gentle yellow light filled the interior of the hallway, it was oddly calming, in a way. The gurney was taken from the hands of the Sergeant by a skinny male scientist as they made their way through a door. The deformed Chelsea thrashed about and hissed before being cut off by the closing of the door.
      It took several more minutes for the Lieutenant to lead the ONI personnel to the Captain, who sat in a small office with a wooden desk, he was writing on some document when the survivors walked in.
      "Captain?"
      Corons looked up from his work and smiled sullenly; he dropped his pen on the desk and invited them in. "Sit down. Lieutenant, you are free to leave."
      "Sir!" Oliver left the room quietly as the others sat down, the Private remained standing.
      "Now, as you know," the Captain said as he stared into Jake's eyes, giving him an unsettling sensation, "we have taken cover on this landing zone, and we are holding them off fairly well... we managed to pull out three platoons: Bravo, Delta, and Romeo."
      "Three platoons, sir?" questioned Mike.
      "That's correct, Sergeant, and we have been planning an operation to retake the structure. We have a sufficient amount of men to do this, and once we do capture it, we can blow it up."
      "How do you plan on doing this?" asked Jake slowly.
      "If we plant charges in the power coupling rooms it would take down the entire facility and destroy all the equipment we had set up." replied the Captain sadly and then added, "And if we destroy the generator, it will deactivate everything set up in there, including the equipment. Either way, our stuff is gone."
      "Why are you telling us this?" Sara inquired thoughtfully.
      "We're sending you along. We need every person we can get, and now that we know you guys are tough enough to survive, you are permitted to go."
      "Permitted?! We never asked to go in the first place... sir." Maxell said angrily.
      "I don't care; we need every person we have. This operation won't be a walk in the park, just reaching the structure would be hard enough."
      "And don't you think it's a bit dangerous sending a woman in?" asked the female scientist sternly.
      "There are risks, but you will be useful." replied Corons. "The platoons head out in three hours, I suggest you join up with Bravo, they'll take care of you."
      "Sir?" asked the technician.
      "Yes?"
      "The Flood are approaching in the D-12, that's the way we came up, and they're following us." he said in a creepy-calm voice, "I suggest you hold back one of your platoons for defense."
      "Thanks for report, technician." the Captain flashed a crooked smile, "As for the operation, you will be heading across the plateau on foot, if any Flood attack, you shoot. Stationary turrets placed on the small inclines of dirt will assist you if you have any trouble."
      "You're expecting us to have 'trouble', sir?" asked Alex from the corner.
      "We can't take the chances, but we've wasted enough time, hurry back to Bravo, they'll be waiting outside. They're being briefed soon by the Colonel, just follow them. Dismissed!"
      "Yes, sir!" the ONI personnel rose from their seats and walked out the door; they quickly headed out the door that led to the LZ.
      The jarred rumble of an Assault Rifle firing on full-auto filled the silent atmosphere, and Jake knew that the creatures were attempting to file out of the D-12. They had come quick, very quick.
      "Bravo, fall back, Romeo, move in for support, you'll be defending for awhile, people." ordered the Captain over the ONICOM.
      "Sir!" replied the CO for Romeo platoon.
      Jake watched Bravo soldiers run back behind some cover, and then move over to where the personnel stood.
      "The Captain says you're with us, I'm Sergeant Vladimir," said one of the taller Marines with a Russian accent, the soldier eyed Jake carefully, "Come on, we need you guys to get ready, and by the looks of it you could use some treatment."
      The technician sighed; he had been hiding the wound that the small infection form had inflicted upon him ever since he had come in contact with the survivors. But it was worthwhile; he didn't want to slow down the platoons when they were all crossing the plateau. The Marine signaled his men forward with a wave of his right hand, Bravo moved silently under a Longsword's exterior compartments and melted into shadow. The other personnel—Jake, Mike, Alex, and the scientists—followed, and when their eyes adjusted to the dark, weapons of every category were lined up on top of crates and the ground.
      "Holy shit!" exclaimed Private Cunliffe as he immediately began browsing the weapons and ammunition. "Are these all issued yet?"
      "No, we only received a whole shipment of these before we landed." Sergeant Vladimir replied easily, "They weren't issued to ONI soldiers, but the Helljumpers that were sent with us."
      Another Marine spoke up, "What he's trying to say is... grab as many of these guns here until you can't move." Jake only grabbed a rifle that had a slightly longer barrel than the Assault Rifle, and it had several different features like zoom-in abilities.
      "That's the Battle Rifle," said the Sergeant, "One badass of a machine, I recommend that you take that one." the technician slung the weapon's strap over his shoulder and reached for ammunition. He only found several boxes containing the appropriate bullet size, but attached them to his standard ONI military-belt.
      Alex had been suited up with an upgraded version of the S2 AM Sniper; it had a slightly farther zoom and held four more bullets. The other Sergeant, Mike, equipped the same weapon. The two scientists kept to their Pistols, but the guns were apposite for them.
      With weapons lowered and grenades exploding behind them in muffled rumbles, the second-in-command Vladimir led his team and the followers back into the ship. The platoon moved through the vacant corridors that were filled with eerie light, the light which somehow greeted them, but proved overwhelmingly to be frightening. Jake didn't know how, but the odd silence and metal boots of soldiers hitting the deck came to him strange.
      It's good knowing there are survivors, but we know that you had something else in mind. You didn't want to go back to the structure to face more of the Flood. You wanted to travel into the depths of space and stay there, waiting by yourself until there was any possible chance of survival. Well, guess what? That's not going to happen, and you better just suck it up and keep on working. Perhaps you will make it and live to see another day if you cooperate. Perhaps.
      The voice deep down inside of him spoke cruelly and suddenly, making Jake's thoughts come to the fact that there was a slim chance of him escaping the ring, thousands of possible dangers popped into his mind. But the sudden halt of soldiers broke into the technician's thinking like a hammer coming down on glass. Jake snapped to attention.
      "Welcome, Bravo platoon, stay where you are." the Colonel greeted them, Jake's eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room they had just recently stepped in to. "We have newcomers, yes?"
      "That's affirmative, sir." said Vladimir respectfully.
      "Good," the Colonel said in a false-cheery voice, "To you newcomers and people that were recently issued into our platoon, I'm Colonel Smith, and I'll be your Commanding Officer. Now, let's begin the briefing."
      Jake shuffled around while fiddling with the strap of the Battle Rifle he carried, conferences like this made him nervous, almost as nervous as death, which he had in some way been accustomed to, but not fully.
      "This isn't rocket science, ladies," Smith said grimly, "we're only crossing the kilometer-long plateau on foot to reach the structure, then we—Bravo platoon—are going to set a couple charges on the power couplings and get the hell outta there."
      A Marine raised his hand, "That's all we have to do? Hell, that ain't nothing, sir."
      "It may seem that way, Corporal, but remember," the Colonel grinned, "we're crossing hostile territory now, everywhere we are, there's bound to be some of those freaks. Hold on, I'll give you women something to look at."
      The noncom stepped out of the concentrated light and into shadow, a small circular pedestal rose from a panel fixated into the metal deck, a pale azure hue glowed from the middle of the holographic projector. Colonel Smith held out a hand into the light, in his fingers he grasped a small black remote, he pressed down on an unseen button with his thumb, causing the blue light emitted from the dais to be replaced with a picture.
      It was an aerial view of the landing zone, plateau, surrounding mountains and oceans, and the massive structure. The hologram was surprisingly real, the LZ showed the clutter of Pelican's and Longswords with the Prowler towering overhead. The plateau showed the small river that developed from the large snow-capped mountains and how it led into the ocean at the bottom of the hill. Even the structure looked amazing; the abnormal detail captured the shape of the facility, how part of it curved up to reach the top of the holograph, how it stretched out far and wide, and how it sunk into the plateau. Simply intriguing.
      "Now, as you can see, we're right . . . here." Smith highlighted the Prowler, "And our entranceway is right here. Marines, the only hard part is getting across the flat terrain—"
      "—sir?" interrupted Vladimir.
      "What is it, son?"
      "Why don't we just send in Pelicans?"
      "Let me get to that next," the CO replied calmly, then continued, "The only hard part is getting across the flat terrain and coming back, that's where we will be attacked by God knows how many Flood. We won't be using Pelicans, however"—he shot a friendly look at Vladimir—"because we've picked up Covenant artillery on the other side of the mountain, they'd be able to take out our birds in an instant."
      He saluted the soldiers, "Well, sorry that wasn't much of a briefing, but that's all we need to know, get suited up and we meet outside at 0300 hours along with Delta."
      The Marines of Bravo platoon filed out of the room silently, the Colonel left shortly after, leaving the consultation room behind in silence. Jake was taken by a Medic to the medical room after walking out, and was to be treated properly for the wound he had received by the infection form. As calm as he appeared, nothing frightened him more than going back to the death-trap which was a fantastic piece of construction formed by the ancient race that had landed on the ring beforehand, millions of years ago. Nothing.

First Cycle, 2 Units (Covenant Battle Calendar)/Ancient Ringworld Halo 07, mountainside overlooking plateau.

      Rira 'Nosalymee stood proudly on the rocks before his men, a plasma sword clutched in his right hand with a Plasma Rifle in his left, both raised. He looked upon his troops, every expression was not of fear and anxiety, but of strength and reassurance, what they were going to go through with wasn't going to be easy, but Rira—the Field Commander—showed his utmost appreciation for the Prophet's orders. He bellowed his battle cry, and his men returned the favor, causing the rocky ridge to shake and rumble. Small rocks and snow dribbled down from the overhang and rebounded off onto the grass far down.
      "We are here under the Prophets decree!" 'Nosalymee said loudly so all his troops could hear, "We are here to stage an attack against the humans, an onslaught which will demean their very culture and beliefs, and wipe them out from this certain part of the Great Ones creation!"
      The wave of Covenant soldiers roared.
      Rira grinned evilly and chortled, they had not been permitted to attack the humans before in large numbers, but now, now they had enough troops to obliterate the structure the infidel's had stolen and ruined, and close off one of the passages which the Flood were emerging from.
      "Now, let's not waste our time, get ready, and when we are ready, we shall depart!" announced the Field Commander, he raised the Plasma Sword high above himself and snarled stridently.
      Rira laughed again, as soon as the humans left the area where their primitive transports were placed, the mighty Covenant would attack and kill. Lowering the energy blade, he laughed again, wondering if this would be the fight which would earn him another level advancement, or the fight which would end him. Whichever came first, he would be eternally grateful.

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 8: Sounds of Battle)
Date: 4 May 2004, 3:13 AM

When you read this story, I suggest you listen to Navras (Matrix Soundtrack) or O Fortuna, it really helps set the mood to this story. -CoLd BlooDed

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 8: Sounds of Battle)
0302 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, Landing Zones waiting for departure.

      Jake looked among the rows of Marines before him and sighed; if it took this many people just to reach a structure, detonate it, and get back, it meant it was going to be one hell of an operation. He shuffled where he stood, tightened the strap on the Battle Rifle, and looked over to Sara—she grinned bitterly.
      "How long will it take to cross the plateau?" he asked softly. The technician winced as pain coursed up and down through his leg, the wound he had recently received treatment for still hurt.
      "Longer than it took to reach the landing zones," she paused, turned around to look at the grass plain, then looked back at Jake, "Remember, we're walking."
      He sighed and rubbed his temples with his forefingers, a headache had begun thumping against his skull in slow, painful beats. It was not the best thing to have before marching across a kilometer-long field with Flood destined to appear and wreak hell across the troops.
      Sergeant Vladimir had disappeared with Peters and Cunliffe a few minutes before, leading them to the front of Bravo platoon. The Colonel was standing on a large piece of broken fuselage stripped from destroyed Pelicans; he had his arms cross behind his back and was frowning. Three other soldiers, decorated in various medals, stood by Smith with weapons in hands. The Colonel addressed his soldiers. How he got into commanding Bravo platoon, Jake didn't know, it was possible the old CO had been killed when the platoons escaped from the structure and had been of a lesser rank.
      "We will be leaving in a matter of minutes; I want armor on, weapons loaded, and everyone to be ready." Colonel Smith announced, "As you all know, Delta platoon is coming with us, and remember... no one gets left behind. Unless you can't tell the difference between a Human and a Flood, you shoot it."
      The Marines stayed quiet. The Colonel stepped down from his spot. Jake felt the feeling in his stomach grow worse along with his migraine, he grasped his abdomen and let out a pained moan.
      "What is it?" asked Sara fearfully, she looked deeply into his calm eyes.
      "Nothing, just an ache."
      She smiled, "I know we will be safe, I mean, we have two rough-neck platoons coming with us, I think that'll be enough." Jake grinned back, and for a sudden moment, he felt something for the scientist. But the emotion was squelched as an earsplitting thunderclap echoed over the human survivors; the technician looked up in a calm manner only to get warm rain drops on his face. They were big droplets, not the kind you would see back on Earth. More thunder rolled through the swelling black clouds, and Jake was forced to wipe his face with his already-soaked sleeve, it didn't help.
      It began to pour, but the Marines of the two assembled platoons—Bravo and Delta—didn't bother to move. Lightning cracked above them, the large raindrops created pools of water that became absorbed by the dirt. Dark puddles of mud spattered from the fall of hot droplets were produced by the ringworlds' clouds. Jake could feel his heart thumping against his chest in anxiety and nervousness, he laughed bitterly.
      Just go through with it, the voice of his late father echoed through his mind, Just go through with it and you'll be fine, don't make it any worse by worrying. Come on, do it for me.
      I can't!
      Don't deny Jake, or the next thing you know you'll be with me.
      He noticed his eyes were watering, he felt the stinging feeling—even through the heavy beads of precipitation that pattered on his face—and blinked repeatedly to flush the irritating feeling from his eyes. Jake couldn't lie to himself; he knew why he was crying. He just didn't want to think about it.
      It'll come around eventually, Jake.
      The friendly tone of his father was drowned out by more intense thunder and lightning, the technician closed his eyes as his shadow lit up suddenly in the dull mist; he could see the dancing colors of light behind his shut eyelids. And when the second intense flash of brightness commenced, the two formed platoons set off for their long march across their own chartered land—the land which had been taken by the hands of the Flood. The technician sighed, tightened the strap on his weapon, and walked on with thoughts on his dead father. Another thunderclap, another lightening bolt, another explosion from the grenades behind them.

First Cycle, 3 Units (Covenant Battle Calendar)/ Ancient Ringworld Halo 07, mountainside overlooking plateau.

      His troops stood before him, not talking, not moving, and not breathing. Rira 'Nosalymee parted his mandibles, which in his race was considered a smile—although the one he was making was believed as an evil sneer. The Field Commander looked upon the tanks—Wraiths as they had been named—that were hovering above the Forerunner created stone, and motioned for them to start down the massive slope, then he motioned for his men. A legion of Jackals, Grunts, other Elites and Brutes marched down the snow-covered hill just as rain began to pound against the mountainside. The clouds roared in rage and sent bolts of electricity speeding towards the grass that made up the plateau.
      Everything before had led up to this, his men were bloodthirsty, and the only thing that had only a small chance of stopping them were the Flood. Rira roared, his soldiers roared back, they had been patient enough, it was time, the inevitable was happening.
      But he had spoken—or more appropriately, thought, too soon. If 'Nosalymee had looked back upon his actions he would have called himself conceited and arrogant.

0334 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, proceeding to Forerunner structure.

      Jake, for a moment, had been nervous, but as soon as he saw the glowing blue volley of superheated plasma launched into the air, he became terrified. Not only were the Flood destined to strike, the Covenant were making a surprise attack—it couldn't have been a worse time for them to decide that.
      The technician watched in fear as the Wraith plasma soared up, arched, and began its long descent towards a large lake consisting of mire and sludge in front of the marching Marines. The shot came down fast accompanied by a low, rumbling whoosh, and exploded on contact with the ground. It threw watery sludge everywhere as the azure-hue flash vaporized the large globules of rainfall, some of the muck landed on the Colonel who was in front but he continued walking forward, slowly but calmly.
      Another plasma mortar explosion came from behind and then slightly to the side. Jake wondered if the Marines felt the same way as he did, scared, helpless, doomed, or if they had been treated so they didn't experience these emotions, so they didn't break down when it came to this. The technician very much doubted himself.
      A sudden battle-cry resonated from the cliffs, and Jake saw a large quantity of Covenant soldiers in the distance, running down the massive slope that connected the plateau to the mountains. They would first have to cross the river, however, but in the numbers they were traveling in, it wouldn't take long.
      Jake refocused his attention on the ground in front of him and the others, and through the severe downpour and haze he saw shapes moving towards them, threatening shapes. It was the Flood, and they had already taken a swift step into the ever-approaching battle.
      The Covenant had begun firing again, and the pink, blue, and green shots lit up the darkness cast by the blackening clouds in sudden flashes. They streaked towards the moving Marine as a lightning flash blinded the soldiers momentarily, camouflaging the plasma bolts and hiding them as they impacted into the platoons. Jake swore that he felt plasma sizzle past his ears; it stung for a split second but was replaced with the soothing and warm caress of intense rainfall.
      "Get ready, soldiers..." the Colonel announced over the COM, "don't give up, don't be afraid. Don't leave anyone behind."
      As soon as he finished talking another thunderclap resonated throughout the large plateau, immediately after that a lightning bolt ripped through the clouds; unofficially announcing the battle had begun. The Flood and Covenant had both gained a lot of ground, and were already shooting at the platoons. Smith looked back, waved his hand forward and shouted: "Give 'em hell, Marines!" The platoons were running straight for the oncoming Flood, which didn't show any emotion or physical conflict; the creatures that just wouldn't quit.
      Instantly—from the soldiers in the front ranks of the platoons—opened fire, ripping apart Flood combat forms and popping the infection forms buried within. Jake was now running, both to keep up with the Marines and to avoid being trampled by the ones behind him, Sara was doing the same. Rain continuously pounded down on the Flood, humans, and approaching Covenant, Jake sputtered out a mouthful of rainwater as a plasma bomb exploded directly in the center of Delta platoon. Charred bodies flew in every direction, landing in deep puddles of mud and dirtied precipitation.
      The two platoons began to disassemble and scatter, and seconds after the Marines were in staggered formation, the Covenant were quickly upon them. Screams echoed in vain over the unencrypted network, they were so deeply sickening and managed to send chills down Jakes' spine. Green and blue shots sped through the air, lighting up the small, circular circumference around the attackers.
      Elites broke through formation with glowing energy swords, slicing their way through men without a care—they kept moving without pausing to wipe their visors clean of human blood.
      Jake fired at a confused Grunt which had stumbled into his vision; the technician quickly snapped off the safety and squeezed the trigger. Bullets exited the chamber in white muzzle flashes and ripped through the Covenant soldiers' chest, the alien was sent to the ground. The tech looked to see that the Covenant had begun battling Flood along with other Marines; he saw a carrier form explode beside several Brutes and send small infection forms everywhere. Jake spun to face one of the Jackals; it hissed and fired right towards him.
      The green plasma vaporized the thick raindrops that fell from the olive-hue sky; the clouds were blocking the sunlight to make it appear as such a color. It was both magnificent and terrifying as stray plasma bolts streaked through the air, illuminating the haze that had enveloped them, all of them.
      The ONI tech dived to the ground to avoid the incoming fire, felt it tear the fabric comprised into his uniform, and returned fire. The Jackal was jerked around by the impact of the rounds, and as it was about to fall one of the plasma bombs fired by the Covenant tanks exploded on top of it. Jake let the clip slide into the mud and reloaded, Marines were running—some sprinting—past him as he lay there, letting the hot rain soak into his attire.
      Get up, for God's sake, Jake.
      He, as if in a trance, stood up and began to run with the others, he had lost Sara in the frantically sprinting group but trusted that she was still alive. Jake hopped over a body of an Elite, then a dismembered Marine, and then many Flood forms, then once he realized that there were too many bodies to avoid, he began stepping on them without a second look.
      "Stick together! Approaching half-way point, destination blocked, don't give... ahh... ahh!" an explosion that rumbled under the feet of the technician—and every other Marine—cut off the voice of the Colonel. Stifled sobs came in response.
      The rain was really pouring now; it came down so thick that Jake couldn't even open his mouth for air. The sun was completely blocked along with the three moons that floated arbitrarily across the horizon. Thunder and lightning literally exploded in the clouds, drowning out any occurring sounds for mere seconds. More screams, more explosions; more snarls from both Covenant Elites and Flood forms, everything was complete chaos.

First Cycle, 3 Units (Covenant Battle Calendar)/ Ancient Ringworld Halo 07, on plateau fighting in battle.

      Rira roared as he plunged his plasma sword into the abdomen of a human Marine, the soldier groaned and collapsed as the Field Commander pulled out the blade quickly. Blood sprayed out of the wound in tons, maimed organs flopped into the mud—and were quickly buried by the frantically stampeding Marines and other Covenant.
      'Nosalymee spun around with his sword outstretched, managing to sever the appendage of a nearby Infidel. He took pride of the splattered human blood that covered his visor, and took pleasure in the taste, Rira laughed triumphantly. The Covenant battlenet, however, was a mess, incoming communiqués came in through with panicked voices, while others were calm and content. Rira didn't recognize many of the voices, but knew that they were coming directly from the fighting ground. A lightning bolt tore through the atmosphere in an abrupt white flash, the Field Commander blinked repeatedly before tossing a grenade into a crowd of attacking Flood. The plasma exploded as another flash of light enlightened the plateau—rotting corpses were immediately sent to the muddy grass.
      His men had already clashed with the humans and Flood, sweeping relentlessly through them, killing anything that didn't look Covenant.
      But there was a problem, a problem that was overlooked by the Prophets—the Flood were much larger in numbers than they had anticipated, and that was a big mistake to have been unseen. The Flood were to be reckoned with the utmost caution, they were an enemy that actually threatened the Covenant civilization, and any other race that wasn't immune to the Flood biological transformation.
      There was a deafening roar of thunder followed by a plasma explosion—but the explosion was much too close for comfort. Rira spun to the source and was forced to use his plasma sword to slice at any large chunks of rock that flew at him. A massive stone was tossed towards him, but the Field Commander had grown weary and faltered for too long, the rock impacted into his helmet. A pain so intense ripped through his skull and a white light took him, the green haze that had replaced the once-shiny plateau disappeared momentarily, then returned. Oozing purple blood impeded him from seeing more than two meters; he collapsed to his knees and dropped his weapon.
      Rira lay there, feeling the pain subside and be replaced with a sudden sway of nausea. Rain pounded on his shoulders, his troops ran past him, and he thought why the plasma had exploded so close. He had used the best Wraith drivers that had been landed on the ring, the answer would've come to him if his brain was functioning properly—a hit to skull didn't help thinking.
      Why did you fail?
      The blood suddenly glowed pink and knew that another lightning bolt had streaked across the sky. The Field Commander wiped off the blood, spun around, and in the haze he made out a figure—a thin human, but with a weapon, posing him as a threat. Rira, however, did not make a move, but instead welcomed the white flash that would take his life. He wondered if he would make it to the sacred place that all Covenant looked forward to after death. But one thought remained...
      How did you fail?

0432 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, proceeding to Forerunner structure.

      Jake felt the Battle Rifle buck under his slippery hands, the wounded Elite that had knelt before him slumped to the ground as its brains, helmet and flesh painted the mud. More Marines ran by him, and the technician joined them. Up ahead loomed the giant formation of structures that made up the facility; yet another flash of lightning commenced, illuminating the Forerunner structure in an eerie glow. Thunder followed soon after.
      They were closer now; he knew it, the fatigue he felt throughout his body was a sign, he felt it. Jake avoided a human soldier struggling with a combat form, and instead took several shots at the Flood creature. The flimsy tendons that were attached to the head tore and the skull blew up in small, rotting fragments. The Marine's expression was of shock, but the soldier recovered, got up and continued running.
      Bullets whizzed by Jake and the others running alongside him in low, muffled shoops, he ignored them and kept running. Four explosions from the Wraith bombs rung out simultaneously in the technicians' ears, and he turned to see the bodies of several Marines flying through the air, blood flying in the air with them.
      "Stick together, men, approaching structure!" the voice of the Lieutenant echoed over the network. Jake was relieved, in a way.
      Several Flood attack forms broke through two Marines running in front of him—the two soldiers were sent into a wet patch of grass unconscious. Jake raised his weapon and shouted as he squeezed the trigger; bullets ripped into the abdomens of the creatures and sent the closest one into the mud. The other combat form slipped and was quickly eliminated by a nearby Marine.
      "This is suicide! Gah!" the panicked tone of a random soldier burst into Jake's ear, adding to the long-lasting adrenaline rush that had been inserted into his system long before.
      Jake turned to see Covenant massing behind them; they weren't bothering to fight with them anymore and had instead turned to the landing zones. Many enemy Covenant soldiers still were fighting, but they had been separated from the group and were battling for survival.
      The surviving troopers began a slight ascent up a hill. The rain was still intense, and Jake had trouble keeping his footing, as did other Marines who slid and tripped in the mud. Barely any grass was visible now; only deep dark spaces of sludge occupied the plateau. Jake slid again as he tried to fire his rifle at an infection form.
      The two platoons finished climbing up the small slope, entered the overhang of the structure and stopped, they had made it, they had fucking made it.
      "T-That was fucking intense, man!" crowed a Marine in ragged gasps.
      But Jake noticed only a quarter of the men that had made the two platoons remained, his eyes watered.
      "This is it?" asked the familiar voice of Sergeant Peters, he stepped forward and shot at a fleeing Grunt that staggered out in the storm, wounded. The Covenant soldier stumbled in the precipitation and was finished off by infection forms. "You gotta be shittin' me."
      Jake slicked his hair back; water trickled down his hands in a small stream and dripped off his elbow. He sighed; Sara, Alex and a wounded Maxell were standing in front of him, each with the pained expressions as every other standing there. The soothing—yet heavy—pitter-patter of rain resonated through the thick Forerunner metal as more thunder rumbled—although this time stifled—throughout the metal barrier.
      Flood forms were still waddling around in the storm, tripping over dead or wounded bodies from humans and Covenant alike. A mechanical door was placed where the surviving Marines stood a few yards away, glowing in the gloomy atmosphere before them. Lightning lit up the 'half-room' momentarily to reveal green blood painted on the wall; the soldiers' shadows were cast in long, awkward angles onto the walls. Lieutenant Packs groaned in the shadows, his shoulders heaved and he laughed grimly.
      "Great," he said, "just fucking great, the Colonel is dead, we've lost more than half of our goddamn Marines and we still gotta carry out this operation."—he moved out into the pale green light, blood and perspiration dribbled down his brow and he panted, his eyes were wide—"Come on, we better get movin'."
      Jake watched as Maxell was hoisted from the ground by two burly troops, and then moved to the door with the others. He knew that this was just the beginning, and the march across the plateau had claimed the lives of many. Elites fought desperately out in the rain against other Flood, the blue plasma from their rifles illuminating their bodies in ethereal glows. The flash mixed beautifully with the olive-haze environment and caught the Elites in their last moments of triumph. Jake both valued and feared the mighty Covenant soldiers. The technician turned to the el-tee who crouched near the door in the shadows, he raised his weapon.
      "Charge in on my mark..." Packs ordered silently, "If there's anything in there that ain't human, kill it. Alright boys, three, two, one... mark!"
      The technician rushed in through the doorway after the el-tee. The other soldiers entered at the Lieutenant's signal with his gun raised, and flashes of white light immediately fulfilled Jake's vision while the motion tracker painted dozens of red dots.
      "Contacts, lots of contacts!"

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 9: Shadows of Light)
Date: 16 May 2004, 2:44 AM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 9: Shadows of Light)
0500 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, inside Forerunner structure.

      It was true, dozens of contacts painted themselves on the motion tracker. The Marines fired into the blackness, illuminating it for mere seconds, nothing but shadow filled the empty space in the small room. The small, metallic clink clink of the used bullet casings intervened with the eerie silence. Jake sighed; the contacts on the radar shuffled around a bit, but the shuffling noise came from above the ceiling. It was as if the Flood could see them, but didn't take the time to attack.
      "Don't linger, we still need to make it to the Control Room." Lieutenant Packs said in a harsh, quiet tone. "There we will erase the AI, set the charges, and blow everything in the room. We will then go to the Generator Room and destroy everything there, too, so we won't have to worry about the source of power that runs through this facility. If we have time... we'll blow the power couplings to level this place. Now c'mon, let's move."
      The Marines and the other ONI personnel followed the el-tee through passages, corridors, big hallways, small hallways, without being forced to contend with any Flood whatsoever. It was odd, yes, but just not having to look at the monstrosities or even thinking about them came as a relief to Jake.
      They proceeded through shadow, light, complete blackness, and gore-covered halls. No bodies sighted, though. Jake didn't recognize anything; he had been here less than twenty-four hours ago. The lights flickered and spat out sparks, blood covered every square millimeter of the floor; roof and walls, the slightly guttural growling echoing from every orifice of the hallway threw him off. He couldn't have been here earlier, it was impossible. Nothing could change the look of this section in less than a day. Nothing.
      Oliver stepped in front of the automatic doorway, bright-yellow sparks jutted out immediately and the door refused to open. The Lieutenant called up his Heavy Demolitionist, who ran up quickly, brushed his drooping helmet out of the way, and took out a small device.
      "Hurry up, Jackson, we don't have much time."
      Green light from the glass that covered over the Demolitionist's eye glowed eerily with tiny white words scrolling down which only Jackson could read. Jackson held up the miniature contraption and held it down, a small, concentrated blue light of superheated plasma poured out of it in a straight line, connecting with the broken door in an instant. Wisps of smoke immediately shrouded the mans' hand as the laser cut through the metal. Jackson moved slowly but thoroughly, the incision his laser-cutter made was a perfect square, and when the full three minutes passed the metal inside the box dropped.
      The Heavy Demolitionist moved back, and let the Lieutenant move by him, Packs kicked the metal, watched the thickness of it drop, and moved through with his gun raised. Once the el-tee disappeared into the shadow of the Control Room, the Marines followed along with the scientists and technician.
      Someone... no, something... was humming on the other side of the wall that divided the room into two. It was unnerving, robotic, but melodic and freakily entrancing at the same time. When the humming turned into an insane laugh, Jake realized who it was.
      "Stop," he said in a whisper, "the AI—Calian—is over there."
      "What? Where?" the Lieutenant spoke loudly, Jake could've slapped his forehead. The crazy laugh turned into a devilish whisper, and Calian's voice echoed through the Control Room.
      "Who is that?" the AI didn't even sound like an AI anymore, it spoke in jumbled sentences that sounded like it was trying to speak over intensely loud static. "I won't stand for it. Whoever is there, come out... NOW!!"
      The sudden loudness of Calian made everyone jump, Jake held up a hand which caught the light from the projector that cast the AI into a human form. No one moved out except the technician. Calian smirked evilly as Jake stepped out of the darkness into the eerie blue luminosity.
      "Bennitz, Jake. ONI technician," said the AI, but its tone wasn't of itself, it was the exact same tone of Jake, it was frightening, "Serial number 02475-27754-JB, verification code 4656."
      "Calian, you've got to stop this."
      "Birth date: October fourth, origin: Earth, America, New York." it said again, eerily, but representing someone else's voice, most likely the Captain back on the Prowler. "Can I help you?"
      "Calian—"
      "SILENCE!" the AI shrieked, "You are a pathetic, useless, human! Like the rest, you deserve death... I shall grant you what you truly warrant!"
      "That's it, man, you're already unplugged." Jackson walked up to the pedestal, grabbed a data-erasing chip from his pack, and held it close to the hologram.
      "Not so fast." the AI said in the lowest, computerized tone it had, and an electricity bolt shot from one of the broken computers and united with Jackson. The Demolitionist was jerked around, his hands flailing from side to side, blood trickling out of his nose, eyes, and ears. The smell of burning flesh met Jake's nose, causing the tech to gag and make icky, retching noises. The AI spoke again in its mechanical voice as Jackson fell to the ground, burning, and as the data chip clattered to the ground. "I still have control of the facility, you infidels. And I have control of Them, and Them only, I respect them... such a wonderful creation of the Forerunners—"
      "—I heard something." interrupted Sara cautiously, she held up a hand, but the AI continued talking.
      "They deserve much more admiration, much more. Nothing can stop the Flood, nothing at all, especially not a small ragtag group of trained Marines. Your deaths are impeccable and inevitable, Reclaimers, I've been cooperating and learning... with Authentic Denial. He knows everything about this universe, absolutely everything. I do suggest you pay attention next time."
      "Let's get moving, they're coming," Oliver said, but the AI cut him off.
      "Everyone has their own policy, their own strategy for survival, Reclaimers." Calian, who had been staring forward the entire time, turned suddenly to face the soldiers. Its eyes glowed red, streams of data symbols twisted and turned around the holographic body, he had teeth chiseled down to cannibal points, the AI hissed. "This is your own fucking strive to survive, Reclaimers, and I suggest that you hurry and get out of here. And DON'T try and erase me from the data core, I control EVERYTHING, and you sure as hell don't want to try that with me!"
      Flood broke out from the ceiling behind the AI, and moved forward. They stood in shadow, and it seemed as if the shadow was following the monsters... with every step they took the light seemed to disappear. The Marines opened fire; spent shells were thrown from the weapons into the air, and then fell like rain. The bullets ripped into the flesh of the Flood forms, and with the AI's insane laughing in the background the Marines were giving the order to retreat. Except there was one problem.
      They were told they were going back to the D-12.

      And it was at that time, it seemed, that the lurking Flood decided to appear from their hiding spots. The Marines encountered a group on the catwalks in one room, and managed to take them out without much trouble. Soon after that they fought against three bloated carrier forms, a troupe of infection forms, and several human combat forms. They lost a Marine in that fight, but they had kept moving, not stopping for anything. Jake had scored a gruesome kill with his Battle Rifle, he had managed to rip open the chest of the combat form he had been fighting and pop the infection form burrowed within... with his bare hands. The tech had plunged his hands into the rotting torso and clutched onto the parasite, and then had squeezed it with all his might. He had felt proud when the combat form collapsed, and it heightened his mood.
      But his mood only stayed high for a few moments, they got to the D-12 and found the entranceway collapsed. The rubble scattered across the room, the decomposing bodies of dead combat forms, and weapons were etched into the techs mind; it was all he ever saw anymore. At least, all he ever remembered anymore.
      What had happened before that? before the Flood were released? He didn't remember; his mind had gone blank as he had desperately tried to find memories of the first few months he had been here, on the ringworld.
      Nothing had come up.
      They were currently making a dash down random hallways, it was very unorganized, but Jake and the others could care less. Much less.
      "Contacts left... and right! Goddamnit they're everywhere!" screamed Sergeant Vladimir, he shot at anything that moved in the light that shone from the mounted flashlight on his weapon. Infection forms skittered across the floor after them, but the Marines took long strides in their sprints, and managed to outrun them.
      "In here!" ordered the Lieutenant, "Get in the vehicle storage, go, go, go!"
      The el-tee shot at something that was coming from behind and enlightened his face with the muzzle blast. He dove inside whilst firing, yelled "Close the door!" and stopped sliding on the metal. Sergeant Peters slammed the hologram on the wall near the door, waited for the entrance to be sealed, and walked over to Packs to help him up.
      "Thanks, Sergeant." Lieutenant Oliver gratefully said, "I hope we're all right in here, we can't go back until we finished the mission. I'm sorry we had to retreat, it was the wrong order to give, but... that AI really scared the shit out of me, I was beginning to think it was insane."
      Jake felt the exact same way, Packs seemed as if he could read the technicians mind, it was scary. Along with the fanatical laughter echoing through the Control Room as they had retreated, Jake shuddered.
      "So now what the fuck you gonna do? Huh?" a voice spoke up; it sounded very much like a drunk. The speech was slurred, yet jumbled, and the voice came from the back of the room, behind a Transport Warthog. Everyone moved over to him.
      "How long have you been here...?" Private Cunliffe asked wearily, the soldier squinted at the man.
      "Oh, not long, not long at all. Seconds are minutes, minutes are hours, hours are days, so on and so on..." replied the stranger calmly, his eyes rolled around in their sockets. "I mean, who wouldn't like to be in here, safe... safe like me, only me, and no one else. They're dead, not alive, like me, only me..."
      "Are you alright?" asked Sara, she stepped towards him.
      "Don't you fucking touch me! I can't trust you!" the man screamed, "They turned their backs on me, I hid, I hid... I was by myself, they fucking left me! Get it? They ditched me; I couldn't do anything but hide."
      Great, another manic, he'll help us. Oh, yes.
      "Come with us, sir, we can protect you no matter—" the Lieutenant added, but was cut off. He grabbed Sara, she had wandered to close to the insane man, and she tripped, the man stood, caught her by the hair, and replied evilly.
      "—I'm not going anywhere with you, you're all the same. So don't touch me, step away, and she'll be fine... for the most part." he said with an evil smile, the man cocked his eyebrow. The light caught his eyes, causing them to twinkle foully. He pulled out a combat knife from his belt and held it up to a trembling Sara, she gasped as did all the other Marines.
      The Lieutenant attempted to be assertive, "Don't do it, we're here for you. We're here."
      "What did I just f-fucking say?! Step back, step back, fucker!"
      It was enough, there they were; the el-tee with a shocked, yet clever look on his face, and the pale, shaking stranger holding the scientist hostage. The Lieutenant—in one swift motion—tossed his Battle Rifle backwards; it was caught by one of the Marines. The man knew what was going on, and raised the knife above Sara's chest. Oliver Packs brought up his fists, grabbed the knife before he could drive it into her flesh, and punched the man in the face. Sara was released, the man clutched his face as crimson red blood spurted out, and Packs wrapped his fists in the ONI uniform.
      The Lieutenant kneed the crazy man in the stomach over and over again with all his anger put into each swift movement. The man let his hands drop, letting all the blood pour out of his broken nose, and stood there with quivering eyes. Oliver stopped, released his grip on the clothing, and began punching him in the face. The victim didn't do anything, he just stood there, his face slowly swelling and turning purple. Jake felt sick, the beating against the insane stranger wasn't just brutal, it was... cruel and unjustified. He had to do something; he couldn't just watch the Lieutenant thrash against someone. The technician grabbed Oliver and pulled him back.
      "What are you doing?!" exclaimed Jake, "We have much better things to do than this, sir!"
      "I-I'm sorry... I don't know what the hell got into me, I apologize." Packs let go of the beaten man who slumped back against the wall and collapsed onto the floor. Oliver swept his hand over his brow, a mixture of water, sweat, and mud came off with it. He then bent over the beaten stranger and searched the pockets on his uniform. "There's got to be something we can use." He pulled out a folded sheet of paper in an instant, unfolded it, and held it up to the faltering light.
      "Jesus. This is Colonel Briggs"—the el-tee looked down at the unconscious officer, he winced. Briggs had once been tough, unafraid, and intelligent. Now he lay on the floor, his back up against the wall, sitting in a pool of his own blood. Oliver looked back at everyone—"he didn't deserve this. Fuck! Fuck these creatures; we'll get 'em back for you, Briggs."
      The comatose Colonel twitched in response.
      "Captain's not gonna be happy about this," Oliver said, his voice wavering as if a joke. He then read the document out loud: "Operational code 75434... use only if necessary, keep this file classified, orders from Headquarters of ONI Research and Excavation. Hm... must be something important if it's from them HORE boys."
      Jake knew exactly who the "HORE" people were; researchers of the Forerunner. A highly confidential ONI branch, and would rely on any actions to get what they wanted. The code didn't make out to the technician, he didn't know what it was for but had a feeling in due time they'd use it. Sara seemed to take offense from the Lieutenants slight smirk and the minor amusement among the Marines.
      "I'd appreciate it if you didn't refer to them as HORE, they deserve more than that—" she said, but Packs held up a hand, Sara stopped immediately and glared at him.
      "What do you care, anyways?" she continued to glare, displeased, at him. Oliver shrugged, "We might as well stay here until the pressure is off."
      But no, the Flood and the corrupted AI wouldn't have it any other way. An explosion rung out from the far side of the room, sending large chunks of titanium skittering across the floor, infection forms crawled out, clawing at the metal to keep their grip. Combat forms followed, their rotting feet brushing aside any of the bulbous parasitic forms. Darkness devoured the light behind the fleshing bulbs pouring through the tube. They crawled horrifyingly along the wall, creating a massive green ring of the parasites. Oliver pocketed the paper, received his Battle Rifle, and yelled: "Fall back! Fall back!"
      One of the combat forms jumped straight for them, his distorted arms were thrown back, the tentacles forming along them slithering in the air. The infected human brought down the tentacled arm in one swift motion, knocking a Marine into the air. The soldier hit the wall head-first, had his skull splattered against it, and collapsed onto the floor. The attack form launched itself forward.
      "Get the lead out, Marines!" yelled Sergeant Peters, his head and weapon bounced up and down as he tried to focus on the jumping combat form.
      The others were shooting as well while they all inched back towards the forced open door. Bullet casings littered the floor, green blood splattered everywhere, and all the stray shots ended up popping one of the parasites.
      Jake exited the room at the sound of another explosion and more screams from the soldiers. He turned and ran ahead of everyone else, with Sara right behind him. Sergeant Vladimir and Peters emerged from the torturous storage room with human blood on their faces; their teeth were clenched as they fired directly through the laser-cut gap. And as soon as the light emitted from their rifles ceased, they started running along with the technician and scientist. The Lieutenant stumbled out along with three other Marines, and rushed out of the gaps way.
      "Where the hell is Teck?" yelled Sara over the rumble of weapons fire, an ethereal chant flowed softly somewhere in Jake's mind as she repeated herself. Tears began to flow down her gentle face, she was crying, Maxell was dead. Jake felt the deepest sympathy towards her, but her face suddenly lit up—not with a smile, but a deep, orange. The technician turned to face the doorway, looked at the massive fireball that sprouted out of the gap, and grabbed her.
      "C'mon, we've got to get the fuck outta here!" he yelled and pulled her arm; she was hesitant for a moment but succumbed to the technician's force.
      They wasted time just standing where they were, and were now behind the fleeing Marines who were now heading in the direction they had just come from. Flames continued to develop from the doorway behind them and lick the wall on the other side, creating grave, molten marks of ash. This wasn't enough to stop the Flood; however, as they walked out of the blaze without so much as bothering to notice they were on fire.
      "Here comes more." Jake whispered, and gave a final tug to the scientists arm. They ran back, not knowing what was held in store for them, the Flood following after them ablaze. Flesh dripping from their shoulders, the smell filling the large corridor. Jake didn't look back.

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 10: A Secret Revealed)
Date: 29 May 2004, 9:29 PM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 10: A Secret Revealed)
0614 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, inside Forerunner structure.

      There was yet another muffled blast from behind them, the light cut into the murkiness of the dim hallway. Heavy, metallic footfalls from the others echoed off the walls in fast tempo, not quickening or softening. They rounded a corner, and another, and another. The Marines were ignoring anything that attempted to attack them; Flood forms jumped over them, the parasites skittered behind, and the Carriers waddled aimlessly. Whenever they got too close, however, then a combat form would be taken down with carefully aimed bursts of fire.
      Where they were heading Jake did not know, but with his hand grasped tightly around Sara's, he did not care. He knew he loved her, somehow.
      The technician looked at the scientist; she looked at him with half-closed eyes. Thin tears trickled down her bloody cheek; she looked away as they jumped over a large pile of charred rubble. The adjacent wall had large chunks of metal missing, and revealed a narrow passage that led vertically. Green blood dribble out of it in masses, the smell gagged Jake and he refocused on what he was doing.
      There was a large intersection ahead where the lights shone bright; everything around it was enveloped in various shades of darkness. The survivors ran forward, hoping to run straight through. An explosion, on the other hand, ripped through the silence and ceased the Marines from getting any farther. They stopped, looked around desperately, and turned left—Flood forms materialized out of the darkness and growled fiercely. Weapons were raised, loaded, and fired.
      Bullets tore through the soldiers, both mutated and human, and impacted the walls behind them.
      "Retreat," the Lieutenant yelled, "Retreat!"
      So they retreated hastily as more shots zipped by them in yellow streaks. Soldiers fell, Carrier forms exploded, infection forms popped, Jake fired blindly into the massive group of Flood while keeping a firm clutch on the scientists hands.
      "We didn't bring enough ammo to kill all these freaks!" screamed a Marine as an infection form drove its penetrator into the soldiers' flesh, a white flash ensued.
      They all turned around, not bothering to return fire, and ran.
      We're heading back to the Control Room, I'm sure of it. Say something. a sudden voice broke into his thoughts, it was his own. Unless you'd rather face that crazed AI again, with his sharpened teeth, distraught laughter, and random sayings—but wait, I'm pretty damn sure you'd like to do that, wouldn't you?
      What's the point?
      There is no point, just keep your hand on Sara's, run fast, and you'll get out of here alive. I mean—who couldn't with a strategy like that?
      Shut up.
      And the voice stopped. But so did the Marines.
      "What's going on?" asked the technician to no-one in particular.
      "We're back..." Oliver answered distractedly, "right where we started."
      That was impossible, it had to be impossible. This didn't look like anything they had seen before when they reentered the structure.
      A soft, spongy substance clung to the floor, but it spread over the walls and part of the ceiling, glowing a rotten olive green. The matter seemed to come from a gap in the wall, but Jake looked over it carefully. The gap was perfectly square, and the material actually seemed to be growing from it, swelling from it as if it were its source of power.
      But the sad truth was that the malleable green shit was actually getting larger, and if the Marines had taken the time they would've noticed it too.
      Guttural growls resonated from behind them; the el-tee spun around quickly and ordered his men into the control room. "Ignore the AI." he sternly ordered before entering. The soldiers groaned as the spongy material leaked the green blood usually found in Flood under each footstep.
      "Hurry!" Vladimir hissed, but the order didn't influence his troops to move any faster than they already were.
      They moved into the Control Room carefully, slowly, waiting for the enemy to spring on them. Nothing greeted them except the AI, which grinned ferociously and laughed.
      "Back so soon?" inquired Calian thoughtfully; a childish tone roughly traced his voice. "I figured. Guess you just don't learn, hm?"
      "Oh, we do, Calian. It is you who hasn't learned." replied Sergeant Peters in yielding nature, and he held up a device that wasn't recognized among anyone else in the room... excluding the AI.
      "Get away from me with that!" snapped Calian in sudden anguish, "I shall destroy you at once!"
      "Don't even think about it," roguishly said Mike, he spun the lengthy tool around in his right hand, "you're going to listen to what I say and you're not going to complain, are you?"
      The AI's face twitched, if it was possible for an AI to even do that, and the holographic body flashed a soothing orange. The Control Room basked in Calian's glow, and the lips of the artificial intelligence curled into a sly smirk.
      "Fine." he subtly remarked with the evil sneer on his face, "What is it you want?"
      "We—" the Lieutenant began, but was cut off by Calian.
      "Let me guess, eternal life? More power? Sudden prevalence of immortality? Or is it something so simple I could never guess...?"
      The Lieutenant opened his mouth to speak again, but the AI beat him to it.
      "No, don't bother; I already know what you're thinking."
      Bullshit. It's not like a freakin' computer can read minds.
      But with all that's going on, anything can happen.
      Calian turned to him suddenly, Jake's heart jumped into his throat quite suddenly, causing him to sputter. The AI grinned even more.
      "You're right, Jake, anything can happen."
      The technician screamed.

0647 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, inside Forerunner structure in makeshift Control Room.

      Calian enjoyed doing that almost as much as when he had been awakened from his slumber, the slumber that the humans kept on him, but once 747 Authentic Denial woke him, he became much more focused.
      "What is it, Jake?" asked one of the infidels, one of the men he had once served for; but not now, oh no, not now.
      The AI tuned them out and researched the files on "Jake". He scoffed once the folder titled "Jacob Bennitz" appeared, such terms to shorten forenames wasn't proper, or holy. Calian disapproved of that.
      His eyes flowed from one section to the next, his "brain" absorbing each tidbit of info he had missed before. Typical data... born on Earth, went to school, family troubles... but then he stumbled on something interesting. It turned out Jacob Bennitz had saved an entire ship back when Reach had fallen, an entire ship by himself. A spectacular event, for sure, but Calian didn't have time to respect that; no time at all.
      How did he know that? There's no explanation that comes to mind, none at all.
      Get over it, Jake. He can read minds, so what?
      The AI looked up; the volume emitted from Them had been turned down purposefully, but he saw Them arguing among each other. Good.
      Good, because he was successful in scaring the ONI technician, Bennitz, Jake... and that he had created a diversion, but a diversion for what? The plan had escaped his electronic mind, which was odd; AI's were capable of remembering information like that. Something to do with the Process, perhaps? No, he didn't have time to remember. He would have to act now, fast, swiftly, something.
      He turned up the sound, but nothing reached his ears, the ONI dogs were staring at him, but he quickly replayed anything that had been directed to him.
      Yes, they had told him they wanted access to a computer, and with the electromagnetic disabler being waved around by First Sergeant Michael Peters, Calian permitted it.
      But they wouldn't get far in their search, whatever they were searching for, as Calian had created a new plan. Not as well thought of, but one that was capable of taking down the trust within the entire troupe of human soldiers.
      We need to use the code, damnit, beating the fuck out of Colonel Briggs had better been worth it.
      Intriguing. Lieutenant Packs seemed as bloodthirsty as one of the Flood forms, his thoughts certainly showed it. It was interesting how the clever AI had learned how to "read minds", which wasn't really reading minds at all, but reading the neural lace transmissions stuck in the human mind. Everyone in ONI
      (not everyone oh no not everyone)
      had one installed. It wasn't strange. The thoughts would be transmitted from the human to Calian in clear detail and volume, giving the notion that the AI could read minds.
      (the crazy AI oh yes oh yes the little crazy harmful AI)
      And just as one of the restricted ONI consoles winked on in a sudden blue flash, Calian focused on his own train of thought, getting ready to launch his plan into action.
      Technician Jacob Bennitz
      (we'll show him)
      would be punished along with the others, no doubt. But the AI's plan didn't consist of him doing anything, it consisted of a faith between Sara and Jacob. It would damage it entirely, and maybe even have some unexpected changes
      (death!)
      that'd shock him, an AI can't predict everything.
      He could feel the thing that had somehow burrowed into his system, his subroutines, his data stream... and it was unnerving. The thing inside him scared him, and talked when it wanted to in faint whispers, quick, faint whispers.
      (stop pondering stop-stop-stop get to work-work-work)
      Calian obeyed in fear. The thing made him hum robotically, which the AI had no more control over. With every few seconds that passed, a little stream of his subroutines were taken by the thing, slowly but surely. He had agreed, though, he had agreed for this to happen.
      (the Agreement stands)

0651 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, inside Forerunner structure in makeshift Control Room.

      The console's light amiably greeted the Marines, and right away Oliver was typing in commands to access the non-public folders. He scrolled and clicked, scrolled and clicked...
      Ah, there they were.
      The Lieutenant knew what he was doing, obviously, but the sudden smile on his face disappeared, and he frowned. Jake managed to look at the screen over the black silhouettes of helmets. The monitor read

      Licensed Officer Name
      Identification Password and Number
      Password
      Login

      It all seemed the same to him, passwords; logins, identification passwords and numbers... what was the damn difference?
      "Try the code now," Sergeant Vladimir put in, "it may work."
      So the el-tee pulled out the crumpled piece of paper and read off of it quietly as he typed in the necessary information. Oliver finished quickly, folded the sheet back into his pocket, and examined the screen as a whole document materialized. He gasped.
      "What?" asked Private Cunliffe, Packs nodded towards the screen.
      "Read it yourself kid," the Lieutenant replied angrily, his expression was of shock, and he turned to Sara, but did not say anything.
      She shuffled around as Jake read, and he didn't even notice her distressed sniffling.

      The Office of Naval Intelligence Priority Transmission 14783R-03
      Encryption Code: Red
      Public Key: NA
      From: Vice Admiral Devin Wilson, Headquarters of ONI Research and Excavation.
      To: Colonel Christopher Briggs, associate of Project Beta (officer Identification Number: 27281-353-HRS2175)
      Subject: Objectives required subsequent to settling of Halo Installation 07, factors of probable outcomes additionally supplied.
      Classification: RESTRICTED (ONI Directive)

      /start file/
      Christopher,
      Along with the rest of your associates, you've been issued this data containing all the relative information belonging to this mission. Nobody else besides you and the others can read this, so be sure to destroy the data-pad (or at least rid of its contents) before setting off. Attachments, along with some extras that I decided to put in, have been sent along with this file. I hope it will make things clear for why you have been sent to the ringworld.
      We're all lucky that the Spartan came through for us with that data crystal. He opened the tunnel for ONI development and research, we're lucky, yes. So get reading, Colonel, and be sure to dispose of this once you are finished.
      Good luck,
      c.b.

      Jake wondered what the man was talking about, and realized that Brigg's had disobeyed orders and had not deleted the remnants of the datapad. Why, though?
      He returned to the report and read it along with the others, once again unaware that Sara was crying and the AI was humming.

      Objectives list prior to landing
      WARNING: This document is classified to all unauthorized personnel; any reading of this of those who aren't permitted (and discovered) shall be punished in an appropriate matter, based on the reader's interpretation and reputation.
      1. Expand over ringworld: this will be accomplished with the ten Prowlers issued by ONI, as they enter the atmosphere of Installation 07 they will separate and colonize separate sectors of the ring, conveying hundreds of mercenaries, technicians, scientists, and officers to live on this creation from the Forerunners.
      2. Research movement of Flood (underground):scientists will place the motion and thermal trackers after foregrounds have been physically altered for ONI personnel. They will be ordered to record all Flood actions/habits/survival skills.
      3. Release Flood: any of the associates of this project will be exposed to severe risk, injury, or chances of dying once they find where the Flood can enter the facility. With use of explosives (or anything necessary to demolish the obstacle) they will liberate the Flood, retreat, and set a timed barrier which will self-destruct within a certain time-limit.
      4. Study movement of Flood (above ground): record the Flood as they sweep over the ring. But be sure not to fall into peril, or this mission may go into deep danger.
      5. Destroy ringworld or annihilate Flood: the ring will be a very dangerous place once they are released, and that is why you will be ordered to leave the ring once everything is ready to go. You will set charges in every occupied structure, retreat to the Prowlers, contact the necessary ONI officials.

Press ENTER to view additional file attachment.

      The Lieutenant did so, and another screen popped up in front of the others, it was a list of names that worked for the HORE.

      HORE Associates:
      Captain Ryan Corons
      Major Steven Junards
      Colonel Christopher Briggs
      Colonel Trevor Smith
      Lieutenant Tom Arbys
      Scientist James Logons
      Scientist Maxell Teck
      Technician Janice Richards
      Scientist Sara Medds

      The listing went on, but there it was, winking at him, blinking at him. Jakes heart shattered, his mouth curved into an angry snarl, and he turned to the sobbing scientist along with everyone else.
      "What is going on?" he said through gritted teeth, Sara looked at him pleadingly, but it was the AI who answered.
      "Oh, she left out that little detail, did she?" Calian chuckled happily. "Well, it is true; Sara has been working for them all along. Yes, she certainly has been two-faced. Sara Medds, a peaceful scientist, easy-going, loving, but tough at times . . . sure, that's what you wanted us to believe. And Teck was involved in this too, who were you guys trying to fool?"
      The female scientist didn't answer, Jake's eyes bore into hers, fierce, fiery, unforgiving. The AI continued.
      "I sure hope she will be more honest with you; like for what she has done . . . or what she has in store." Calian was staring at Sara, who had her back turned to him. Her face was covered in shadow, but Jake could still hear the small sniffles each time the AI paused. "I'm extremely pleased that you found this out on your own, Lieutenant Oliver Packs, and that I wasn't forced to show you." The holograph smiled sinisterly. "If you don't wish to tell them, Sara, I would be glad to show the events caught on video."
      She tried to say "No!" but the holograph already sent a clear, floating screen which showed inside of the facility, somewhere unknown. Jake watched intently, not wanting to find what Sara had done, but still stared at the display with a growing feeling that something bad was going to happen.
      Something horrible.

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 11: Friend and Foe?)
Date: 17 June 2004, 4:25 AM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 11: Friend and Foe?)
0711 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, inside Forerunner structure in makeshift Control Room.

      The AI flashed an evil, holographic grin. Jake felt gooseflesh pop up on his arms and his hairs rise on the back of his neck. What he was looking at was a video of Sara and some others traveling down a hallway which he had never gone to before. The display was blurry and transparent, and the rotting green glow it gave off was the only source of light, besides the now-dimming Calian, his color dying and fading.
      His voice, however, was still perceptible, and was actually quite loud and clear.
      "As you see here," the AI said softly, "Sara Medds and her associates are moving through hallway X-41Z, not that any of you would know where, or what, that is. Ah! Here we go." Calian fast-forwarded through the clip, and when it stopped Sara's voice could be heard clearly over the Control Rooms' speakers.
      "Keep your weapons with you," the scientist said on the recording, and although everyone in the Control Room could hear her clearly, an odd humming noise intervened with an almost perfect pitch that was emanating from the video. "We'll need to do this quickly..."
      The soft rustling of polyester shoes resonated through the recording, and the view (which was from Sara's) bounced up and down, after a few seconds, the associates came to a stop.
      "Here it is," Sara said in awe, someone said something behind her, but it was barely audible, "Alright, anyone have the DE?"
      The DE was a Data Scrambler, and it was very familiar to Jake. He had used many during his training back on Earth. Why they would be using them to release the Flood... he didn't want to think about it. DE's were used to erase the codes and replace them with a string of random numbers—or if chosen, they'd delete the need for a code completely, leaving the restricted door open to anyone.
      It was definite that the operatives were using the second option.
      The Sara in the video reached out with the device, placed it on the door, and let the DE do its work. Numbers scrolled clearly across the display; 9s, 6s, and 3s. The machinery in the door could be heard rotating around in its sockets, cogs (or quite possibly, "holographic cogs", devices that spun and clicked several times before unhinging) twisted, rods dropped, and the metal separated from the middle. The air decompressed from the room before them in a quiet pop, Sara moved forwards, taking the first-person view along with it.
      "I hear them." a voice said from behind the scientist in the video. "I hear them! Shouldn't we leave? Like, now?"
      "In a few seconds,"Sara concluded, "We need to let them 'pick up' our scent, just so they know where to come out from."
      Jake clenched his fists together, then they came apart; then closed; opened; closed. He turned to Sara.
      "Did you ever plan on telling us this?"
      She stared at him with shocked eyes, as if he had been the one keeping the secret, as if he had been the one who had released the Flood for studying purposes... goddamn studying purposes. Jake practically snarled.
      "I'm positive she was not going to, Jacob." interjected the AI sweetly, the scientist lowered her head.
      "Let's get out of here," Oliver Packs said, he pointed to the exit, "But I've got to do something first."
      He grabbed the electromagnetic disabler from Sergeant Peters, and with swift motion he clipped it to the AI's holotank, Calian shrieked at this sudden action.
      The Lieutenant only smiled.
      "It's been great doin' business with you, chief."
      "You Infidel! Such disrespect! And to think I let you LIVE! Prepare for your timely demises, you Infidels!" Calian was mad, truly and certainly mad, but that didn't matter. The holotank was short-circuiting, sending multicolored sparks in all directions—blue, purple, yellow, green—it was amazing.
      The holographic representation of the AI flickered, on and off, on and off, its eyes became nothing, and everything behind Calian's "eye sockets" was visible.
      "Time to go, Marines!" laughed Packs suddenly, "Saddle up!"
      The some-odd twenty remaining soldiers (including the technician and scientist) were lead out of the room quickly at the frenzied shrieks of the AI.
      As they were running down the hall, the el-tee told his soldiers that the thing he had attached to the holotank would erase the AI. Then it would create a chain reaction of mechanical failures inside of the tank, causing the device to become rather obsolete. Then somehow, mega-volts would be pumped into the container, coursing up and down until it hit something vital—the result would be a somewhat large explosion, and with all the other equipment in the room, the explosion would be much larger.
      The only downside was that this would happen in less than forty minutes and it would be able to take down the entire facility. Since the volts emitted from the device used against the AI would go from one computer to the next, running through the entire network of the facility, the explosion might occur in less than forty.
      "So where are we going?" a Marine asked.
      "We're going to the vehicle bays..." replied Oliver in excitement, "they're on the other side of the structure."
      "So we're finally gettin' off of this shithole?" hooted another, "Thank the Lord!"
      They were still running, Jake up ahead with the Lieutenant, Sara lingering in the back, sobbing quietly. The technician couldn't help but feel sorry for her, but what she did was wrong, and something—a pretty damn huge something—might be able to smooth everything out. He doubted this.
      So we're finally getting off this ring, Sara, Mike, Alex, everybody, this fucking hellhole.
      But it was never really a hellhole until they were released, am I right? This was Sara's doing, you saw the video, you know what happened.
      I do...
      Then why deny it, Jake? Why? That bitch doesn't deserve any of you, you'll show her.
      Shut up! he yelled in his mind, angrily, at the voice which emerged, the evil voice—the voice which would make the tech seem like an asshole, a very big asshole indeed.
      Maybe Sara did deserve something, not something big, but something. After all, she was responsible for all those deaths, the struggle in which everyone endured.
      As he thought about this, the ONI Marines rounded a large corner stacked with fuel cylinders and ammunition crates, roars of Flood bellowed behind them all. No one was talking.
      Is it alright for someone to go unharmed for actions that are highly consequential? No, it isn't.
      I said shut up.
      Oh, and I heard you, but I'm the little voice inside of you that greets you warmly with hate, that reminds you of what you're thinking, but what you are too afraid to admit. You coward.
      Then stop bothering me.
      Come on, Jake, lighten up! We're both on the same side here, I mean, come on!
      Shut the fuck up and leave me alone!
      Okay, bud, but you don't even know what you're thinking.
      It stopped suddenly, leaving a faint trail of thought behind, Jake's mind fed on it hungrily like a snake eating a mouse in one slow swallow. It developed questions, lots of questions; some were forgotten, some were remembered, and those which were remembered were most grim.
      "Stop, men." sighed the Lieutenant, the footfalls ceased immediately.
      "What's going on?" Jake asked.
      "Nothing that you can see..." he replied, "But you can listen."
      So they listened.
      They heard the faint dropping of blood (or was it water?), the clear hideousness of inhuman screams and snarls, the gunshots that rang out loudly—and the muffled, but certain, sound of robotic humming.
      "It's 747." the scientist said from the back of the pack, everyone turned to her.
      "What?" Oliver asked; he had heard her, but didn't understand what she was saying.
      "The monitor of Installation 07, one mean son of a bitch, if you've heard of 343 Guilty Spark, you can make a connection." Sara said clearly, although her tone was masked by the sound of someone who had just recently cried their eyes out. "We have to be careful. He's most likely in the vehicle bays, waiting."
      "Waiting?"
      "Yes, waiting, he knows much more than you think. He was the one that fucked up the AI, made it like it was."
      "We'll discuss this later," Oliver said, "We need to keep moving."
      It took several more minutes to get to the hallway branching off into the makeshift vehicle bays, lights flickered overhead, creating a dull red glow in the corridor. There were two doors leading into the vehicle hangar, one was broken; metal hung at awkward angles, drooping towards the floor as if it were no more than liquefied plastic. The robotic humming had gotten louder and clearer, and it gave everyone a slight chill down the back. Snarls from distant Flood forms(or were they near? Jake couldn't tell) echoed down the halls, the ceiling, the floor. It flustering, they couldn't tell which direction they were coming from. This gave them the advantage when they broke out of the ceiling vents, which was several seconds after they arrived in the hallway.
      "Unload on 'em, Marines!" barked the el-tee; two of his men had already fallen under the tentacles of a human combat form.
      Bullets sprayed in all directions, casings bounced off the roof and walls, landing in grooves or rolling under gaps near the floor in the walls. Blood splashed everywhere; green and red, making a strange Christmassy atmosphere on the walls... Jake shuddered and realized that the thought was grotesque, the blood had come from creatures and people, goddamn living things—that was most definitely not Christmassy. Marines ran back and forth, eventually squeezing into the center of the hallway; back to back; shoulder to shoulder.
      Jake was busy firing his Pistol at the horde of monstrosities, the cartridge emptied and he reloaded his weapon swiftly. Bright flashes illuminated most of the hallway, momentarily blinding the technician while he fired away at the Flood.
      "There's too many, Packs!" shouted a Marine, who was in the midst of reloading his Battle Rifle.
      "Don't even think about buggin' out on me now, soldier!"
      The Marine lingered too close to a combat form; it raised its mutated arm slowly, and then brought it down on the soldiers' face in one swift motion. The tentacle ruptured the Marines' right eye, filling it with pus oozing from the rotting arm and his own red blood. The Marine screamed, dropped to his knees, and grabbed at his ruined eye. By that time, the remaining soldiers had backed up even closer, and another Flood form took a powerful swing at the doomed combatant. His scarred helmet was cracked along with the man's skull, like it was no more than an eggshell. Brains splattered against the ground, the body collapsed, and a large amount of blood flooded out of the shattered head.
      This was the only casualty Jake had watched, and it had caused vomit to rush up his throat, but he didn't let it out.
      "Retreat into the vehicle bays!" barked Oliver, "Move, move, move!"
      The puke that had been in his throat burned, causing the technician to spit out a combination of blood and vomit, it spilled against the wall before he had a chance to turn around and enter the doorway.
      Except when they entered the only working entrance, another hallway greeted them.
      "What the hell?" a Marine asked worriedly, "We're fucked now, man!"
      "Stow it, soldier, we need to hold this position." the el-tee responded calmer than ever, "Does anyone have the equipment to open the door?"
      Jake spun around to see the end of the hall, a locked door stood at the end, staring at the group of soldiers mockingly.
      "I do." the technician said triumphantly, "I'll do it."
      "Good, now hurry, we don't have much time."
      Jake ran to the other end of the hallway quickly, pulled out the system-hacking tool he had used before, that seemed like ages ago when it had only really been several hours. He got to work as the jumbled thump-thump-thump of his heart emanated from his heaving chest.
      Flood forms entered the narrow hallway—which was at least a meter and a half wide—and were greeted with 7.62mm 50cal bullets, they were ripped apart swiftly. Body parts tore from the chest and waist, and either impacted into the wall or fell quickly to the floor, either way, a barrier of rotting limbs and torn muscles built up.
      They were insistent on entering and killing the remaining Marines, however, and the attack forms aggressively tore through to get at them.
      There were only a few who were successful, combat forms that managed to get through the physical barrier building up at the doorway leaped at anything close enough. At least four Marines had fallen before they began to retreat again.
      "Cover me, I'm reloading." a soldier called out, he was relatively calm in the situation.
      "How you holding up, Jake?" asked the Lieutenant without bothering to turn around, the gunfire had ceased just at that moment so he barely had to yell.
      "Fine, sir, almost done!"
      Jake almost added something but a stray bullet whizzed by his face and impacted into the door directly in front of him. The technician froze, looked at the bullet-hole... looked back at the fight... then back at the door. He sighed heavily, relaxingly, and got back to work before another one of those bullets came again—but closer, and deadlier. It was up to him to open the doors.
      Hurry, hurry, hurry, nice and quick now!
      He repeated those words in his mind.
      Hurry, hurry, hurry, nice and neat now!
      "Hurry, hurry, hurry," he muttered aloud, "fast and free now."
      The door was locked down tight, but after several minutes of toying with the several options he had, it opened for him and the others. The technician unclipped it from the doorway and stuck it back on his belt, then called the others.
      "It's open! It's open! Go, go, go!" he cried, and one by one the Marines stopped firing, backed up several steps, then turned around completely and ran home free.
      Sara and three other Marines were behind everyone else, looking just as ashen, and quite possibly excited, like everyone else. They ran down the hall as fast as they could, but no, something was destined to get in their way.
      And that very something was a overflow of Flood forms entering the hallway, jumping high over the scientist and the Marines and then landing in front of them.
      Sara gasped and the grave look upon her face turned to shock; then went amazingly calm and relaxed.
      "Sara, duck!" screamed Jake, he reached his hand out, but the distance between them was incredibly ridiculous; he had no hope of reaching her.
      "No, Jake, I'm fine."
      He sputtered just as the trapped soldiers beside the female scientist began shooting, combat forms flew backwards with caved-in skulls.
      "What the hell do you mean you're fine? You're definitely not fine, run to me!"
      "No Jake! Leave me; I've come to my end."
      Isn't this what you wanted? the sinister voice asked, he grew angry at it, at himself.
      No! Fuck, no! This isn't what I wanted at all! I never expected death, or grief, or anything, she doesn't deserve it. What do you get when you take away everything she did on this ring? A normal scientist, the one you have feelings for, if I let her go now, I'll be wishing I didn't.
      Then go for it—and die.
      I... can't!
      Jake was being pulled back by unseen arms of the other soldiers, he clawed at them and screamed at Sara to run through the pack of Flood—she shook her head calmly and smiled. Her eyes said: I will be okay.
      Her pale blue eyes twinkled, and that's when the technician began to accept being pulled back, he sighed frustratingly and looked deeply into the scientist's eyes from a distance. She raised the Pistol from her side, loaded it, and held it against her head.
      "I love you, Jake." she said just loud enough for him to hear her over the screams of the other Marines.
      There was a loud crack as the weapon went off, and the last thing that the tech saw of the woman he loved was her brains, skull, and skin spattering against the wall in a confusion of misshapen colors.
      Jake burst into tears as the door closed and locked on him.
      He stood there as the soldiers let go of him, stood there in the shadows, crying.
      Now he realized, over his stifled sobs, that the humming had ceased. He turned slowly to see the red glow of 747 Authentic Denial; the tech was filled with anger and stepped out from the narrow gap which held the door.
      "You little—" he began, but that was as far as he got.
      Sentinels floated in from the elevated ceiling, taking up positions beside the monitor, everyone stopped what they were doing. The flying metal machines hovered in place, opened up the spot where the red laser would fly from, and exposed display-screens and a mess of untangled wires. They were certainly frightening.
      The monitor just floated there, staring—if a robot could stare—silently. The light cast from the inside of the circular android was a deep scarlet red, it covered most of the shadow in the bay; vehicles behind it and the Sentinels were highlighted in its crimson glow.
      "There's only one choice for such meddlers as you," the monitor said angrily, "Death. Delightful yet simple, I know you're all waiting for it."
      "Fuck off." Oliver said quietly.
      "Very well, then. Sentinels; dispose of them immediately."
      They moved forward quietly, ancient machines of death.
      Jake suddenly wanted to be out of there.
      Now.
      Fast.

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 12: Final Requests)
Date: 3 July 2004, 1:48 AM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 12: Final Requests)

      Not even the deep recesses of Hell could've kept Jake from running. What he was about to go through for the next three hours of his life was going to come close to being like it—Hell, that is.
      "Split up, Marines, don't stand fucking idol!" crowed the Lieutenant excitedly, then he added with noticeable joy, "We're almost out of here!"
      The technician was the first to run as plasma from the Sentinels began to fly by in fast—yet solid—blurs of red. They didn't track him as he made his way under them, but did once he extracted the Pistol from his pocket and fired at the monitor of Installation 07.
      "Please!" scoffed 747 in frustration bordered with pleasure, "Your weapons are obsolete to me, I am invincible! Hee hee hee, I am a genius."
      Jake backpedaled as quickly as he could, holding his weapon up but firing at the Sentinels instead.
      "Well, it seems to work on your henchmen!" shouted Jake in dangerous delight, "Take this"—he held down the trigger, a Sentinel exploded—"and that!"
      "It does, but those projectiles will never get past me, human," the monitor spoke softly, but angrily at the same time. "Now, I have more important matters to attend to. Let's just say I'm planning ahead." 747 Authentic Denial floated around the room, leaving red rings to materialize behind them; they disappeared after moments. Then the monitor gave one last order to his Sentinels: "Do what you wish with them, but if you fail, don't expect it to be in vein." Then the hovering blue piece of metal soared away into the roof, traveling via the ventilation system in the structure that would soon be destroyed.
      Red laser found its way around the room, tracing any ONI soldier left standing—none, fortunately, had yet been taken down, despite the amount of energy they had left in them. Charred, uneven black holes were left behind anything the superheated plasma had been in contact with, thick green blood oozed out of the broken walls. Jake didn't know why, but could only see it slopping out in gelatinous glop; what it was coming out of looked like a pipe that had been behind now-destroyed metal.
      "Find cover, destroy these things, and we're getting out of this hellhole!" shouted the Lieutenant again, this time louder, gunshots rattled the room along with the tech's eardrums.
      One of the soldiers screamed throatily as one of the lasers punctured through his neck, melting the flesh around the large hole and killing him almost instantly. The man threw up his hands to his neck, fell backwards, and collapsed onto the floor in his own growing pool of maroon-red blood.
      "Shit, they got Schofield! Take 'em all out!" screamed a timid and raspy voice, "Somebody check on him, for the love of God!"
      But everyone already knew it was too late, including the one particular soldier. Jake looked at the body, saw the mans' eyes staring into space, bloodshot, glazed over, and hid behind the closest Warthog; shadow enveloped his body.
      The clip in his gun had depleted itself; Jake let it slide out, then grasped one from his ammunition belt he had accustomed from a dead soldier and slammed it in. Now all he had to do was—
      "Frag out!" shouted a Marine from the other side of the room, there was a momentary silence and then an explosion. A Warthog was thrown across the room and into a wall. Hundreds of parts broke off of it as the body came down with a loud bud-unk! including hubcaps, the muffler, glass, popped tires which managed to roll across the room. The smoking engine stored in the front of the destroyed 'Hog exploded, creating a fiery explosion that derived from it. The flames spread onto nearby wooden crates.
      There were many screams now from the remaining soldiers, but excited screams. A muffled metallic explosion rang out, sending a Sentinel to the floor where it shattered into its subcomponents like the 'Hog had just done. Then another one of the ancient steel creations fell apart, and another; and another; all adding to the amount of debris on the floor.
      Jake steadied his Pistol on a gas barrel and fired twice. The bullet holes emerged immediately and let glistening gasoline pour onto the ground. It was heading for the flames.
      "Jake! Open the bay doors!" Sergeant Peters yelled over the fight, and then he spoke in ragged shouts, "We don't have any time!"
      The man raised his Battle Rifle and fired at a Sentinel who was firing on another Marine, sparks flew in an array of beautiful colors, then a large flame protruded from the floating attacker. One of its "wings" was torn off by another bullet, and the Sentinel fell to the ground; the flame, however, remained burning as the explosion licked at the shimmering petrol.
      Another explosion, much bigger in tension and ferocity. Flames licked the ten-foot high roof, scorching it and turning it black. Smoke drifted towards the ceiling and slowly billowed out of the extremely large vent. The heat tore at his flesh, clawing at it and burning it; Jake coughed and covered his face with his arm. He saw the holo-pad behind him, squinted as he punched in the correct sequence of buttons, and watched the two large Titanium-A doors open at the other side of the room.
      He heard shrieks; wild, crazed shrieks, and saw Sergeant Vladimir with his face peeling and bubbling. Gas and fire had shredded his uniform and was now working at his already-burning flesh. Vladimir attacked the blaze with his own flailing hands, but the gas clung to his skin as much as it had to his armor and helmet. His hair was alight, smoking. One of his eyes had popped and filled with blood. His mouth was open, shrieking, actually shrieking.
      "Oh God oh God someone help help help kill me it hurts ithurtsithurts—!"
      Jake looked down despite the overwhelming heat, the bullet he had fired had gone through the mans' brain; the one eye of the now-dead soldier seemed to look at him and then popped. The fiery trooper dropped to one knee, his flesh boiling, and then the other, blood poured from his eye sockets and down his cheeks and into his mouth. Brains trickled down what was left of his hair. Then the remains of Vladimir came to a bloody halt on the greasy floor.
      "Get into the Transport 'Hog!" barked Packs, he was already in the driver seat with the seven surviving Marines. He was talking to Jake. "Get the hell in, son!"
      Jake listened. He wiped his eyes clean of soot and dust before running into the back where the metal poles stretched from one side, over them, and then the other side, they would be protected by this slightly. It was a covering.
      "Now let's get the fuck outta here!" yelled a Marine as combat forms finally broke through the door, the metal flew across the room and impacted a stacked pyramid of crates. Some broke, and the technician saw the pyramid collapse on the flames, igniting. Flood forms chased after them alight, crying after them, screaming after them. The Marines taunted them and shot them as they drove away. But it was too soon to be taunting, quite too soon.
      Over the heavy droning of wheels and the rumble of the engine, Jake heard Oliver yell into the COM network: "Captain Corons! We've made it out of the structure successfully with survivors and need you to prepare Romeo Platoon for dust-off! Advise!"
      There was static, Oliver tried again, and an answer came buried in interference. "I read...Advise... Get across plateau... More hostiles on your... Mountains and lake... Romeo has been notified. Be here in...or else... Over and out."
      "Roger that, sir." the Lieutenant said quietly, turned off the network and looked back over his shoulder to the Marines. "Alright, we've got a Hell of a ride ahead of us, so cover our back so we don't get fucked."
      They were already making a considerable advancement across the muddy terrain. The wheels of the 'Hog rolled over bloody and broken bodies of humans, Covenant, and Flood, leaving different colored substances on the tires. No Flood were behind them anymore. Or beside. Or anywhere. It seemed they were free.
      But Jake thought too soon.
      Rain slapped down on top of them, soothing their burning and aching bodies. Rain slapped down on the Warthog, sending serene trickles of water in different directions. The rain dissolved into the ground. The rain was warm. Jake enjoyed the sensation of a hot shower before an explosion rocked the speeding vehicle, hardened clumps of dirt and bloodstained grass pelted the sides, marking it.
      "There they are!" pointed out Private Cunliffe worriedly, "And they're frickin' manning the Flax emplacements!"
      The technician gripped the sides of the vehicle with his hands and peered over the side, and sure enough, Flood forms were holding the missile emplacements, tracking the Transport Warthog over open ground. Their rotten hands grasped the triggers, not twitching but carefully waiting to fire. But the surviving Marines wouldn't have any of it.
      "Let the lead out!" someone cried.
      Bullets zipped towards their targets, taking several down carefully in splashes of blood and gore—no other combat forms were able to take their place as the Flax cannon exploded from a Rocket Launcher carried by one of the Marines.
      "How's it feel to be DEAD?" screamed a Marine as the 'Hog shot past a Flood form that he had just recently killed. "Huh? What are you going to do NOW?"
      There was the sound of an explosive projectile being pushed into a hollow barrel, and the discharge of the shot: Kathunk! Jake turned his head and let out a surprised shock.
      A smoke-trailing rocket was headed for them, but that wasn't it, oh no. Behind the smoke-trailing rocket were Flood, lots and lots of Flood. Much more than a hundred, definitely more than a thousand, maybe a million, maybe a little less—but they swarmed the mountainside and were coming down in a rotting mutated freak circus of green and brown.
      "Aw, fuck no!" cried out Sergeant Peters.
      The rocket zipped by them as the 'Hog shifted a gear and swerved; it coursed ahead, and in seconds, exploded into the oncoming Flood.
      "We still gotta take out the gunners, Sarge!" one of the Marines suggested hesitantly, "They'll blow us to pieces!"
      "The kid's right," Peters replied with a maniacal smirk, "kill 'em all!"
      And it was that moment that they all realized that either they were all going to die or were all going to live. Three soldiers lined up on one side in the rear while four others lined up on the other—they were all standing—and everyone began to fire directly at the Flood. Hostiles operating the Flax cannons were hastily shot down, but then the lake (which was directly opposite of the mountains) gave birth to thousands more Flood. Dripping wet rotting freaking Flood.
      Christ! How many Flood are there?! They're coming out of the lake, the mountains and the structure... what next? The ground?!
      "Come on! I'll take you all on! Come and get me!" cheered a Marine as his Battle Rifle flashed over and over.
      The Flood were closing in ahead, quickly. If the vehicle didn't get through in time, they'd close around it and kill everyone inside. Jake turned his head from his concentration and yelled for the Lieutenant.
      "Packs? Hey, Packs!"
      "What is it, son?"
      "Can't this thing go any faster?"
      "I'll try my best, Jake!" he said with newfound vigor. "I'll try for everyone's sake!"
      The technician smiled wanly and returned to firing. One of his bullets tore one of the heads off while it was jumping in the air—the funny thing was that it was a complete fluke shot.
      "Nice one, amigo!" shouted the soldier behind him. "You're almost like one of us!"
      One of us! The Flood! You're almost like one of us!
      He took the compliment and concentrated his aim on the chests where it'd be easiest to kill the infection form buried inside. But he couldn't see chests—just a fucking freak-show where he was the cheese and they were the cats. Except the cats were rotting, mutated and killers, and the cheese was desperately driving away in a Warthog. He laughed sourly.
      "We're not destined to fail, men!" Mike said. "Oh, no, not today! Now make me proud!"
      So they did. The wheels of the 'Hog rolled over dead carcasses, grass, mud, while the soldiers in the back fired at an endless wave of combat forms, forever reaching out towards them. Bullets flew into the rear and covered the floor; bullets fell onto the plateau, being buried by the rotting footsteps of Flood.
      The 'Hog went over a hill and came out over top. Behind them, the structure exploded, sending a wave of heat in every single possible direction. Jake glanced back as they were in freefall, the sheer weight bringing them down fast.
      A fireball had ripped through the middle of the facility and several others were blossoming along its main structure. Massive pieces of ancient Forerunner-created metal were thrown hundreds of kilometers into the air; only to come down again and break into pieces. Smoke plumed upwards. Flames grew despite the heavy downfall. Jake let out a sigh of momentary relief and realized he wouldn't be going there anymore, but mere thought would haunt his dreams until he died. Whenever that would be.
      "See that, people? That's what we worked to do. That's what we were sent to do." the el-tee spoke up proudly.
      "And we fucking did it! Alright!" Alex cried out happily.
      No one spoke, but as the image was blocked out by the hill the 'Hog was passing over; Flood swarmed around them, in front of them, behind them. Everything was Flood.
      "Boot it!" roared Jake loudly, and Oliver pressed down on the accelerator as hard as he could. The engine roared along with the decaying hostiles who were closing in ahead. They weren't going to make it...
      The Warthog was a blinding blur as it coursed forwards, the Flood were closing in incredibly fast, as if they were speeding up and the vehicle was slowing down. Jake's sense of direction was thrown off momentarily as he gaped into the horde of fleshy beings, spongy, lifeless, no brain beings.
      "C'mon..." he muttered. "C'mon..."
      The Warthog lurched violently, and Jake prayed that the 'Hog wouldn't flip.
      It didn't.
      Instead, the vehicle soared upwards into the air. The Flood had sealed the gap using their bodies, but the 'Hog was going to fly over them—or land on top of them.
      Jake felt the wind through his hair, the adrenaline pumping into his system, and the rain pattering down on the 'Hog. He felt peace.
      The Marines hooted and screamed as the vehicle landed approximately a foot from the nearest Flood. The wheels spun in the mud, kicking it up and throwing it in dark clumps at the creatures behind them. Then they caught, sending the Warthog forward in a jolt of speed.
      "Yee-haw!" shouted a Marine as the vehicle left the Flood behind them to wallow in their own blood and stench.
      Oliver gave a congratulatory speech, but it was short.
      "Good goin', soldiers! Any final requests?"
      "Just to get the hell off of this ring, sir." sighed Jake.

The Strive to Survive ch. 13: From Bad to Worse
Date: 21 July 2004, 1:09 AM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 13: From Bad to Worse)
0832 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, in Warthog traveling to landing zones for departure.

      The technician breathed in grating gasps, full of noxious air--he could sense the toxins, Flood were already altering the atmosphere. What would happen? What could happen? These thoughts caught him off guard, and for a moment he could see himself choking in the back of 'Hog as Oliver was infected too--then he saw himself gasping for any clean remnants of air as the vehicle plunged into the lake, never to be seen again.
      You're crazy. We're going to make it--look how close we are!
      "Captain? This is Lieutenant Packs, we're clear of the enemy." the commissioned officer spoke over the COM in excited breaths, he wore an adrenaline provoked smile on his expression, devoid of any fear or worries. "Boot up the Sierra's system, we're almost out of here."
      The Sierra?
      Thoughts began to flood Jake's mind--he had only recently been referring to the Sierra as the Prowler. Was that strange? Quite, he responded in his mind.
      "That's an affirmative, Lieutenant, we'll be waiting for you."
      There was an uneasy silence, and then everything that had happened before pushed over the other thoughts--thoughts which damn well seemed measly and poor considered to this. Why was Packs conversing with Corons, a man who had backstabbed the ONI corporation and its people for studying purposes, like everything was normal? Maybe, Jake thought wearily, that he was going to act all friendly until he got to the Prowler (Sierra, his mind corrected subconsciously), and then deliver it swiftly to the Captain. Maybe with a punch to the face, maybe with words--but it didn't matter, as long as justice was served. Corons deserved death, Jake thought, just like anybody else who went along with this.
      Sara. Briggs. Maxell. Ring a bell?
      The Warthog dipped as the wheels pounded into the terrain, creating large square imprints on the surface. The desperate growl of the vehicles' engine pierced the technician's ears along with the beat emanating from the Prowler ahead, it's large rear-jets thrumming and pulsating a calm blue. Jake tried to listen to the flurry of comments given by the Marines beside and behind him, but all were irrelevant to what was really happening.
      "Are you ignoring the fact that Corons screwed us over, sir?" blatantly asked the tech, half angry, half mocking. The Lieutenant didn't even look over his shoulder to respond, but his grip tightened hard enough on the wheel to whiten them.
      "No." Oliver said without sympathy or even the tiniest trace of sorrow. "I am very aware of what Corons did, Jake, but I believe it is best left unsaid. The man has power."

      Jake couldn't believe what he was hearing.

      "What?! You just want us to step aside and let the asshole do whatever he pleases?" he cried, the same potent anger he had experienced when The Truth was revealed boiled up inside him. "I'm sorry sir, but you must be a damn fool if you just want to brush this aside. This kind of thing must not be ignored! If you don't do something about it, I will." His face turned red, Olivers did not.
      "We'll see when the time comes. As of now, I just want to get off this ring."
      Both men fell silent along with the other Marines--they had been listening carefully and they too were struck by what the el-tee had said.
      "Don't think I'm with this guy, people, I hate him just as much as you do." Packs said, then he turned around after making sure he wasn't going to veer off course without looking, "But this man has power; if you didn't think he had any before, you were dead wrong. Now he has even more power, and he can probably get you killed without even anyone else noticing." Oliver paused, looked back over the dashboard, swerved to miss a decayed tree, and then added: "Not even your families." the mans voice wavered.
      Jake knew what the next words that would've been if Oliver hadn't burst into silent tears: They would be killed too. Just like mine, but it wasn't Corons who did it, it was someone else, but with the same amount of power.

0847 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Human Calendar)/ On Forerunner Creation, inside human starship, engineering

      The flat colors of the massive engineering room floor flickered red as the monitor swept over them, his light pulsating fiercely yet calmly in different directions. This was no time to relax, however, he was rushing, his form bouncing and weaving through the air in careless arcs, he had to get to the ships core and see if he could break into the system. Why would he want to? Why, to download as much possible information on human history--he just had to get to the archives and everything would then be simple.
      Sentinels floated arbitrarily across the room, upwards, downwards, across; as if they were located in a room devoid of gravity. Still, 747 needed the information, whether or not the humans which had landed on this planet were dead. He didn't exactly need them dead, but it would be helpful.
      It was funny to think that mere moments ago he had been hovering above the override panels in one of the many subsystems located in and under the plateau, toying with holographic switches that would render the Flood free from their chambers. They had swept under him in what seemed like a tidal wave, found ways to the surface, and chased after the lone human vehicle speeding towards the human starship. Now he was inside the ship, trying to access the millions of records stored in the class-B restricted access system. Gracefully, he removed the system protocols and managed to establish an uplink between his own memory core and the ships memory core--now he could move elsewhere while continuing to load the endless stream of human data.

      Perfect.

      Authentic Denial was technically alone, but he had ways of passing the time. His robotic self ascended to the top of the room, skimmed over an intersection between the catwalks, and came to another diode. Pleased with himself, he attempted to access the schematics of what they called a "Prowler". The monitor of installation 07 was successful in a matter of seconds.
      He consulted the downloaded subroutines and mentally smiled, the humans were here. Lots of them, too, all located in or around the control room, or... the bridge. There were the soldiers patrolling the hallways while the officers scanned the bridge, making sure it was clear of any hostiles; currently, it was.
      In a few moments, however, it wouldn't be.
      "Sentinels," the monitor called out piously, his voice echoed. Sentinels swarmed in front of him, hovering among each other like flocks of birds, "I require you all to travel to the bridge of this interstellar vessel and eliminate any hostile forces--you all realize what this means. Remain in groups, don't be a problem. Wait for the opportune moment. As for me, I will abide in the engineering room and wait until everything is loaded. I will join you shortly."
      The Sentinels hummed and buzzed stupidly, then floated up and through the vents which were oddly tiny compared to the ones the Forerunner had created. Still, it was an easy way of travelling through large bodies.
      The monitor of installation 07 began humming, oblivous to what his plan was going to become.

0858 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld: Halo 07, inside the Sierra, the bridge.

      They had been greeted warmly enough by the remaining Marines of Romeo Platoon (which really weren't many), although the atmosphere gradually changed from hectic to relaxed, things were still a bit chaotic.
The Prowler was having technical difficulties, the Flood were swarming from all directions, and the survivors barely knew their asses from their elbows. A bit chaotic was a bit of an understatement. Saying that all hell was breaking loose was more fitting.
      They had been led to the gut of the Sierra, passing under broken lights, through scarred hallways, and over catwalks that seemed too high to have been constructed safely. The "gut" was the bridge, where Captain Corons and his henchmen conversed rather too happily, tapping commands into data-ports where the screens seemed to be ignited by blue fire.
      Now Jake stood there, not talking or moving, but listening to the stable conversation between injured Lieutenant Oliver Packs and the healthy Captain Corons. He grimaced at some of the responses given by Corons, they were lies, outright lies. It was about five minutes until Jake finally burst, directly after Corons had replied to the HORE organization by saying: "It's a beneficial association derived from the most important lines of ONI, bred for direct studying purposes that would change the world forever." only it was how the man had said it more than the words themselves. He had been practically wearing a long stupid, toothy grin.
      Jake now spoke loudly. It was not exactly yelling, but it wasn't exactly talking, either.
      "What do you mean, beneficial? This... this corporation of yours is hell-bound! You've sent thousands of people to their deaths because you wanted to study! Come on, Corons, to STUDY! That's not beneficial, that is, by God, murder; and if anyone else doesn't see it that way, you can go to Hell."
      The Captain looked as if he had been slapped in the face, and hard. Jake continued jabbing his finger into the mans chest, spitting as he yelled. "And don't even think about coming up with another lame-ass excuse, Corons, because we know what you've been up to, you stinking bastard. You've got guts to send people to gruesome deaths? Then have the fucking guts to tell us the TRUTH!"
      There was a silence, a long, awkward silence. Corons face went from pale white to a pale red, his brow furrowed abruptly and he gave his rebuttal.
      "Don't you dare take that tone with me, Jacob, I could've just as easily sent you to your death as well--which I now see is what you deserved! HORE was created to keep people like you at work, stopping you from prattling on about what has happened and what is about to! So don't you fucking tell me to tell the truth, you lowlife! For anything, I should file a report on your actions and--"
      Jake had had enough, he consciously watched his fist fly up, but as if he was watching someone else do it. His knuckles found the reddening skin of Corons, right around the cheek. Pain kicked at his clenched hand and through his arm, but he smiled. The pain was pleasure.
      Corons was scrambling on the ground, holding his jaw which was undoubtedly broken, spitting out thin streams of blood and saliva onto the tile floor. He looked up at the angered technician carefully and then his foot somehow managed to find Jakes' shin.
      "You like to hit old men, do you? Don't you? You motherfucking lowlife!" Corons screamed, getting up, hitting Jake down to the ground. Everybody on the bridge had backed away, looking cautiously from the technician to the Captain like it was an old-fashioned tennis match. "Well, hit me again, mister big shot!"
      Jake kicked out with his feet; they connected to Corons' knee, and practically crippled him. There wasn't a snap or a crack, but the Captain fell to the ground, grasping for his injury, swearing heavily at Jake.
      "No," the technician finally responded as he stood up, "I like to hit assholes who don't know what the fuck is going on, pervious to anything that is happening on this goddamn ringworld. You'll be the end of us all, Corons. You and your HORES--even though all the others are dead."
      Jake stormed out of the bridge, his anger ceasing, when the call from 747 echoed out of the speakers. No one picked up Corons as he lay there with a damaged knee and broken jawbone, but instead listened carefully.
      "Well, it seems as if some of you are in dire need of help, yes?"
      The voice was mocking, giggling.
      "I can make everything easier, for you, if you'd like." 747 stated clearly over the bridge speakers, "I've already hacked into the system and I'm downloading bits and pieces of your human past, very interesting, I might add. Who knew that much blood was spilled over your society! It's a shame, really, I was looking forward to seeing how this turned out.
      "Your ship is disabled, I'm sorry to say--well, not exactly, haw haw haw--and you're not going any place soon. Oh, how exciting this is! I feel like Guilty Spark on installation 04! The bliss is really superficial, however, and I feel more needs to be done. Prepare to go to a place where no one is welcome, humans, and prepare fast."
      The robotic voice (which seemed to hum) clicked off in an instant, leaving the personnel on the bridge to squabble, deciding what to do and fast.
      "We've got to blow the Prowler, too, people." Corons spoke up, everyone fell silent. "Everyone can take the Longswords docked outside"--he stood, swaying slightly--"but we need to blow the ship before he can get any good info out of the system. We need--"
      There were gunshots outside, then the heavy thump of falling bodies.
      "Aw, shit, what now?" one of the crewman sighed frustratingly.
      Marines backed up into the room, the door they had come to remained open. One of the soldiers muttered something, but before one of the others could ask what he said, Sentinels swarmed into the room, buzzing stupidly.
      "Fire. At. Will." Packs ordered slowly before diving behind a computer console.
      Gunshots broke out, screams rebounded off the walls, and blood splattered everywhere. How long was it going to take just to get off this ring?

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 14: Turning the Tables)
Date: 14 August 2004, 5:26 AM

The Strive to Survive (Chapter 14: Turning the Tables)
0859 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld, Installation 07, inside Sierra, in the armory.

      Jake heard heavy gunfire from down the hall, but his initial reaction wasn't all that impressive. He was still going through what had happened nearly ten minutes before, and whether it had been for the best. Corons by all means deserved it, but like Packs had said, the man had power.
      The incessant drone buzzing from the armory's speaker finally broke into the technicians wandering thoughts, and he soon realized that the situation was direr than he had hoped. Intense gunfire and a nagging alarm weren't meant for lesser situations—plus, everything hadn't been too happy for the past two days, either. Either something up was happening or something up was happening—after narrowing down the most obvious cases, of course.
      Jake immediately ran out of the armory after grabbing a custom-made M95 Shotgun, ONI Class. The barrel was slightly longer than that of the M90, and the chamber could hold five more rounds, but the weapon was much bulkier and more of a struggle to carry—and was especially hard when the shotgun discharged. The shock absorbers installed in the guns helped very little, but the weapon overall worked for the technician as he ran straight down the hallway and encountered three Sentinels glistening metallically in the flashing yellow overhead lights.
      The door to the bridge was just up ahead, glowing in the red luminosity cast by lamps that were near pasted onto the steel. Everything around it was concealed in blackness. The Sentinels, however, didn't notice Jake raise the hefty weapon into the air, and as he did so, he managed to squeeze off three rounds.
      Sparks bounced off the metallic inventions in a kaleidoscope of colors directly after the slugs confiscated the shields—shields that seemed to break into fragments of glass and dissipate once broken.
      Jake gritted his teeth as the shotgun bucked again; and again; and again. The casings ejected themselves, smoking, onto the shiny metal floor, along with the three tangled metal bodies beside them. The technician smiled grimly with water trickling down from his brow to his chin, lowered the M95, and moved over the destroyed Sentinels before entering the bridge—the bridge which seemed to house it's own malformed sense of destruction. Sparks greeted him along with a gust of exhaust, and he stood in the doorway, examining.

0901 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld, Installation 07, inside Sierra, on the bridge.

      Captain Ryan Corons looked up from under his momentary makeshift shelter—the glass display which had been knocked to the floor (which was still, amazingly, intact) housed him from anything hostile. His face was covered in deep shadow, his legs outstretched but still covered by the cracked display screen. His jaw hurt with every breath. His right hand and legs hurt with every movement.
      He backed up as red laser coursed its way past the floor plating in front of him, scarring it with a long black trail.
      Damn that technician, everything had been going fine until he and his band of Merry Men showed up. Now everything had gone to hell, including himself. He had felt a moment of grief, though, once the low-ranking ONI associate had hit him and yelled at him. Why? Because of the fact that he had sent thousands to their deaths? Because he had given orders to other ships around the ring instructing to hold an evacuation and study live development of Flood? Probably, but who really knew? Not himself, that was quite sure.
      There was a sudden cry of bloodlust and fear before blood splattered over Corons face, which wrinkled in disgust and let out a cry of its own. The Captain could feel the individual beads of bodily liquid, and felt how each seemed immovable on his fearful expression. His undamaged wrist found his heated face in the darkness, and he touched the wetness on his cheek—with revulsion, he took his hand away, exposed it to the light, and saw the smear of crimson blood against his palm.
      "Goddamn," he whispered. "Goddamn. Goddamn."
      The body followed seconds later—landing on its back—with a soft, fleshy thud, exposing the mans poor excuse for a face to the sheltered captain. The bloodshot eyes were rolled back into the forehead, exposing a thin trail of scarlet fluid that had trickled down (or in this case, up) the cheek and into the hair. The flesh was pale white and growing cold, but Corons found no shock in examining a live corpse in front of his eyes. He knew exactly why, too.
      He was a murderer. A murderer!
      "I really deserve..." he muttered, jumping back as a chipped coffee mug fell from its place on a shelf onto the floor in front of his face, exploded, and splashed Corons with its cold, aromatic contents, "...to die."
      Yes, he was going to go through with detonating the Prowler manually—after all, it was the only way to stop that monitor from learning about their very civilization, the coordinates to Earth, and what-have-you. Serious stuff. He agreed mentally he would go through with his plan; end this torture, this suffering. He wouldn't, however, kill himself if unnecessary. After all, he had been tricked, hadn't he? Tricked into killing all these people for ONI?
      But he knew the answer, and it flashed in his mind like a faulty neon-lighted sign: "No." He couldn't lie to himself.
      Corons would bring the ship down with everything around it.

0903 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld, Installation 07, inside Sierra, on the bridge.

      Lieutenant Packs whirled around as another of the soldiers were revoked of life, spilling out his blood as he fell, it spattering in miniscule beads on the wall that shone in the faltering orange light. The helmet of the Marine rolled listlessly off the cracked skull and came to a stop at the wall, reeking of dried blood.
      Several Marines and technicians raised their weapons far behind Packs and fired blindly into the air, filling the bridge with loud cracks! and sparks.
      He turned back with his Battle Rifle raised, safety off, and grimaced at the quick gust of rancid air smelling of rotten flesh. The lieutenant ducked and rolled as yet another Sentinel dropped out of a metal panel that had broken some time ago—its own metal sides scraping and sparking before emerging; flakes of steel fluttered down before Oliver could respond.
      The hovering laser-shooting creation focused on the lieutenant and relied on melee tactics—it rushed him, and fast. Packs crouched as fast as he could; his heart caught in his throat, and just barely missed the speeding Sentinel. The frightened—but adrenaline-filled—soldier turned around and waited for the Forerunner investment to charge again, bracing himself this time—he couldn't dodge again, he didn't even have enough time to fire.
      The Sentinel rushed towards him again at a higher speed, a speed just slightly less of a moving blur, and Packs dropped to his knees, his eyes half-closed, and his heart pumping fast. It came for him—
      —and exploded in mid-air. The Lieutenant looked shocked for a moment with wide-eyes... then looked slowly at the doorway which now stood open and shaded a tall character—a character which held something resembling a shotgun, which was now drooping at the silhouettes side. Flames licked from behind the shadowed man, along with what looked like a scrap-heap on the chalky floor. His face was cloaked, and the person looked fierce and strong.
      The shotgun shell used to destroy the Sentinel, which had charged Packs, rolled out from the shadow, drifting smoke. The silhouette stepped out with it—stopping the casing from going any farther. The el-tee looked up at the mans' face.
      "Jake," his voice was a little more than a whisper, "you saved me."
      "Just doing my job, sir." the technician replied, and Packs realized Jake really did look strong and fierce. His hair was tossed back in ragged wisps, gritty with a combined mix of dirt, rain, and perspiration; his eyes were rimmed with corpulent black sacks as if he was wearing mascara. He wore an enraged smile; wrinkles cracked at the sides of his lips, and didn't move. It didn't look as if he was breathing, and the arm that held the shotgun seemed frozen like ice. His foot came down firmly on the shotgun slug casing, crushed it, and he eyed something beyond the lieutenant.
      "Duck." Jake spoke with haste, and Oliver obeyed, practically throwing himself to the floor.
      There were two loud blasts from the extended shotgun, the force knocking back into the steady technician, who held his ground securely. Two shells shot out of the barrel in rapid action, hit the wall with no more than a clink! and fell onto the ground.
      There were two explosions directly behind the lieutenant, and he swore he could feel the flames eating at his flesh—then the sensation of fire subsided and he brought himself to turn.
      Large fragments of charred metal had found his boots—he kicked them away, causing them to skitter across the floor and shatter as they found the wall. The main bodies lay two meters beyond his current stature, smoldering, aflame, licking the walls and computers with heat. Jake had saved him—again.
      "Thanks." Oliver managed weakly, succumbing to the fact he had almost died twice in less than five minutes.
      "Don't mention it," the technician said, eyeing the room carefully but quickly, his raging smile disappeared, "Now, Lieutenant, I think it would be the best to get the hell out of here before they come again." He looked around again, examining dead bodies (mostly crewmen and scientists) without much focus, then his smile returned, but it was an actual smile. "Did Corons manage to scurry away? Pussyfoot his way out of yet another battle?"
      "I don't know where he—"
      "I'm right here, technician." a voice spoke from the left, Jake turned with that same rage in his eyes as before—but then it cooled and relaxed. "What could you possibly want? Go ahead and rub my face in it, if you want. I deserve it. I'm..."
      "We don't have all day, Corons." Jake said, his calm expression cracking slightly. He spoke slowly. "Spit it out, c'mon."
      "I'm... I'm..."
      Surviving soldiers and crew gathered around the captain, eyeing both Jake and Corons equally, expecting another fight. Packs backed up. The technician laughed cruelly, he bent his knees as he did—the laughter was real, too, like his insane grin.
      "Well, what is it you want to say, Corons?" he spoke, eyes glistening exactly like when a baby tortured a cat, and somehow knew it. Well; in this case, Jake knew exactly what he was doing. "Don't feel too pained to say sorry, Corons, it's really not that hard."
      "Now listen here, Bennitz! I know I've killed a lot of people, I know I've done bad things, and I know I've deceived..."
      "Your point?"
      "Shut up!" Corons practically yelled, and then he calmed himself down, and spoke. "I have a broken jaw, I have an injured leg, and I hurt—but this has made me realize something. I'm a murderer."
      "Wow, you've finally figured that out, huh?"
      "Bennitz, what I'm trying to say is..." he trailed off, looking uneasy, his face reflecting all the death he had caused, he sighed his response, "I'm sorry."
      Jake's expression went from cruel playfulness to sudden seriousness, he replied softly: "Do you mean it?"
      "Of course I do."
      "Good," the technician said, a small grin forming on the edges of his jaws, "Now, the Flood are gathering—in case you haven't noticed—but so are the Sentinels. We need to move now, because I have a feeling that we'll be getting off this ring soon."
      "What do you suggest?" Corons asked obediently, he now looked much more uncomfortable than before.
      "We need to set the engines to critical, assuming we still have the ability to do that. However, we'll need the proper terminal..."
      "Bennitz, the first option would've been to start the initial countdown here in the bridge—but the computer display was knocked down and thereby terminated any chances we had to an easier system crash."
      "What's the second option?"
      "We get to the sub-terminals down in the communications department—there should be a computer where we can establish a connection. Then we will be able to set the countdown to make all systems go critical, and then get the hell out of here."
      "That's it?" inquired Packs.
      "Easier said than done, Lieutenant," the Captain replied thoughtfully, "You've got to remember we've got enemies attacking us to the bone, here; Flood and Sentinels."
      "Right, well, where is the communications department?" questioned a crewman, as if all hope was lost. "I mean—we only have so many lives to waste until we're all dead!"
      "Stow it." Corons turned around, lifting a finger and pointing at the talker, who now turned pallid and weak, "We've only got so many lives to waste until we're all off this ring. Now, I would love to stay on this ring until that-that... ancient bastard learns about our society back on Earth. Just imagine what could happen! Imagine those mutant freaks coming to Earth! This is why we've got to take a risk."
      "We better get moving, Corons, like, right now—before those 'freaks' invade upon our current refuge." Jake eyed the captain evenly, who nodded and led the living out of the bridge.

0911 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Human Calendar)/ On Forerunner Creation, Installation 07, inside human starship, in engineering.

      The Sentinels he had sent recently to the bridge were destroyed. Already. Much too soon, the monitor had thought to himself earlier, the human contingent is a tad too powerful. Now, though, more Sentinels had arrived, and, right on cue, so had the Flood. A little more than a tea party, Authentic Denial considered mentally.
      The monitor consulted the outer charts via the Halo subsystem, where he could activate any map he wished in the form of a two-dimensional diagram. It was a massive clutter of red dots, each one moving visibly from one spot to the next, massing beside the human ship and transport spacecrafts. They were going to enter in less than five minutes, he calculated silently—and would the Sentinels ever put up a fight then; over one hundred of them were on their way.
      Something that 747 had control over now was the uplink diodes instituted all around the starship, he could deactivate them, toy with them, download the contents, upload viruses and/or destroy the console, the possibilities were endless—he could very easily blow the ship at will, but, what would the fun be in that?
      He floated to one of the catwalks built at the top of the chamber, unreachable by stair or elevator—a crude ladder polished in flashy chrome-like metal was constructed to reach the elevated platform. There wasn't much interest up here, however...
      Still, a bored monitor always found something—and this time it was no exception. There were sealed blast-doors up on the rusted walkway, flashing yellow and red lights while letting off plumes of exhaust every few moments—and a bored monitor always found a way in. He spent the next few seconds calculating what the proper-sized explosion would be to disable the doors.
      Instead, he tried the easier way—the cipher to unlock it.
      The codes had been easy to get since the connection downloading all the bits of human history was running to a minimum—the cryptogrammic structure had been implanted into the recent events and posts so the monitor could easily handpick it and memorize it instantly. 5337-1886-7417 was the cipher, to be specific.
      747 hovered on the spot, directly in front of the sealed blast-doors; all awhile he activated a computer on the other side of the ship, gave the code input, uploaded, and waited. Sure enough, the response came back positive.
      The doors jumpstarted—first by clicking and rolling beyond the monitors view; then rolling the metal circle in the middle of the perfectly square doors, the circle caught on to several metal shafts stretched out in a diamond shape, they rotated slowly. Steam puffed from exhaust pipes installed into the blast doors into 747, who did nothing but float and glow in the light-reflecting vapor. The same shafts as before then pulled back into itself, again; and again; and again; until the metal rods were visible no longer—this revealed a vertical break down the middle, which opened almost immediately after. Behind it was another door, which opened instantly—then the whir of vibrant and lively machinery came to a dead halt, letting 747 soak up the silence and view of the lonely hallway before him. He disappeared into the shadows.

0927 Hours, January 14, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ On Ancient Forerunner Ringworld, Installation 07, inside Sierra, inside communications department.

      The uplink worked, Jake noted duly, but something was wrong. The screen didn't look right, for one, and the rate it progressed was incredibly slow—even for a 26th century computer. Corons pulled up a command-input screen and sat down into the chair, which was very close to the plush design built into the bridge. The Marines were all guarding outside in the hallway, set up and divided within a thirty-meter parameter directed by Lieutenant Oliver Packs, a man now so determined to get off this ring he was willing to literally do anything to win. To survive.
      All the existing ship crew bent over the Prowlers captain as he tapped at the hundreds of keys installed into the sub-terminal. Jake looked around as he did so, and even took the courtesy of giving himself a tour—although, not a very long one.
      The tiles on the floor, walls, and ceiling were dented and blackened by hiding shadows. All the lights in the room were broken, save two large ones, both installed into the bent walls—the dominating red light cast hit the ground perfectly, but due to the lack of luminosity, shadows were abundant; anything could've hidden in here without Corons and his men knowing.
      Computers—some outdated, but certainly not obsolete—lined the walls. Attached were black, comfy rotating chairs that seemed to be oiled frequently by unseen ghosts. Jake sat in one, resting his gun on his lap while swiveling back and forth—he let his head rock against the back of the chair as his mind tried to focus on something worth worrying about.
      "Got it!" The technician heard Corons cry happily from the other side of the room, his voice slightly echoing. "The countdown is set to twenty minutes..."
      His voice trailed off unevenly as, over the outer speakers, something tapped in. The noise was the sound you got when an elevator reached the preferred level: Doo-doo!
      "Thought you could get away that easy, did you? Thought you could cheat the system by setting it for a crash-course and leaving? Well, think again, petty humans—for I have found something of great interest."
      "How'd you get into the network at all?" Corons asked rhetorically, his face buried in his hands.
Packs walked in to the communications department just then with a happy expression upon his weary face, it disappeared completely.
      "So glad you could join us, Lieutenant Oliver Packs!" the monitor said over the speakers. "In case you haven't noticed, I can see every move you make. Don't mess with me, infidels, because I'm a very dangerous person to deal with once messed."
      "What could you possibly do to make this worse?" Corons asked again, this time to the roof. Jake stepped behind him and listened.
      "Like I said recently, I've found something of great interest... something that you atheists shouldn't have brought to this holy structure."
      "Shit..." the captains face went pale, the eyes above his fingers rimmed with red, he looked to Jake.
      "Forgot to tell us something else?"
      "I didn't think he'd actually find—"
      "What DOES HE HAVE?!" Jake yelled at the top of his voice, Corons shrank back into the chair in fear.
      "Maybe I can answer that for you, Jacob—it seems that this 'ONI' installed a nuclear fusion reactor backup storage system, filled with the noxious chemicals and gases capable of killing you infidels in mere seconds. I have power of you. I have power of your fate. I have the power to filter the disbelief out of you and the power to claim your lives as more sacrifices to the Forerunner."
      Corons began frantically typing at keys on the control panel.
      "What the hell are you doing?" asked a scientist. "It's on a perfect timer!"
      "I'm trying to encrypt it, before he can—"
      There was a strange, electronic thud over the speakers, Corons stopped typing and turned around.
      "...before he can do that."
      "Hah, infidel! Don't think you can let this ship go to waste! I've stopped the countdown, but I've begun pumping the compounds—very flammable, I might add. Good luck getting out of this one." the speaker turned off, then on again as the monitor attempted to deliver one last message: "Remember, you have no chance, just give up and die. Everyone back at your home planet will undoubtedly forget you—you are all a lost expedition that traveled to the top of the mountain, found something great, and disappeared. Prepare for death, trying to reactivate the countdown, or prepare for an invasion, trying to run while I download the coordinates of you world."
      "What's your plan now, Corons?" Jake asked with a slight sense of bitter humor. "What could possibly be your plan to get us out of this shit?"
      There was a few seconds as the captain stared straight ahead into space, his eyes glazed with shock and doubt. Then they reflected and he spoke bravely: "I can activate the system manually and reprogram it to explode when I want."
      "B-But won't you be forfeiting yourself for us?" asked a nervous-looking technician, one looking on the contrary to Jake.
      "That's exactly what I'll be doing, son, and I'll be happy to do it too." he turned slowly to Jake, looking into his eyes with rekindled hope. "I trust you can get these people out of here; you've shown me the error of my ways, I realize this is what I must do to ensure safety upon the people under my command. It's as simple as a captain going down with the ship—it's the only way. How does this sound to you?"
      "I still hate your guts, Corons—don't think I'm about to forgive you." Jake replied, but humor wasn't detected. "Nonetheless, I think it's bold of you, but unnecessary. There has to be ano—"
      "Silence, Bennitz!" the technician was cut off. "This is the only way. Nobody else has the access codes, except maybe that little metal bastard, I'm your only hope. I can blow this ship before I'm killed by the gases, or Flood, or Sentinels, or whatever, I only know I need to do it. It's mandatory, Jake, and if you don't understand that, get over it." He stood from the chair, standing evenly with the technician, eyeing him seriously. "You're leaving, and that's an order."
      Jake looked at him with a smirk, a few seconds past, and then he saluted. "Yes, sir."
      Corons clapped his hands together, rubbing them. "Good, now, get everyone out of here, assemble them as fast as you can—you're going to have one hell of a fight before you get to the other ships." he turned to Packs and spoke in a hushed whisper. "You make sure everyone gets to the Longswords and Pelicans, and you make sure everyone gets the hell off this ringworld."
      The el-tee snapped a salute, "Yessir, I won't disappoint you."
      "Good," the captain spoke under his breath, as if suddenly all the pressure of being a high-ranking officer was lifted from his shoulders. "Now, let me get to work. I'll keep in contact until I blow this thing. With all those volatile chemicals floating around, the explosion will be much larger—you'll only have a short while to get out of its blast radius. Good luck."
      Jake, Packs, and the others in the decaying communications room left the heroic Captain behind to type away.
One of the Marines stepped up to the lieutenant and asked: "What's going on? Where's Corons?"
      "He's given us orders to pull out and make our way to the Longswords." he looked at all the faces that had gathered around. "We're leaving."
      "Without the captain?"
      "Yes."
      They cheered and left, excited, bold, and determined—nothing could stop them now.
      Jake, did, however, noticed the slight smell of chlorofluorocarbons in the air before leaving the hallway. He spoke to Packs before: "I smell the chemicals, we need to hurry. For Corons—don't forget our orders all of a sudden, Oliver."
      There was a moment's pause, and the el-tee responded without looking back. "Right—for Corons."

We are NOT Bungie, Inc.! Bungie Inc. are bungie.net!
Halo © Bungie Inc., 1999-2012, Microsoft 2012-2024
Intellectual © halo.bungie.org, 1999-2024