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Halo Clairvoyance - Chapter 1
Date: 20 January 2010, 7:09 am


Halo Clairvoyance
Chapter 1


By Gary Cogdill


//January 20th, 2555, On board Thoughtless Resolve orbiting unknown planet orbiting Keplar System//


The room was mostly silent except for the soft humming of the motors from the control panel, and only lit with iridescent blue of the hologram. The silence was finally broken by a low, raspy voice. "We've received a message from the High Council to follow the Brutes onto the planet and exterminate the fleet and all the ground forces" The voice was that of Nira, one of the highest ranked officers in the covenant army. The Assault Carrier's control room was illuminated by the purple tint of the lights surrounding it, and glowed violet on the elite's skin and armor.

"No offense Elite, but that will take too much time, time we do not have." said the humans' commanding officer, Patterberg scolded. Nira knew the human was right. If the scouting parties were spotted on the planet the Brutes could quickly escape his grasps. Nira clenched his fist and growled in disgust over the thought of the dirty Brutes escaping. Turning around to look at the image of the human captain he continued on. "Indeed Captain Patterberg, but the Brutes are surprisingly only fast at fleeing."Smirked Nira.

"I have a feelin' that those ugly bastards are going to show themselves." the Captain commented back with his own snarling smile, the lines of his face defined themselves a little more as the corner of his lips curled up. Nira had grown in admiration for the humans, they'd survived the covenant's genocide with honor and valor equal to those of his own kin, and for 25 years they had never surrendered.

"What we need to do is send down some of your special operation soldiers and I'll send down two of my Spartans, Nira." Patterberg suggested. A cold feeling crept up Nira's back, and he straightened himself up with this. Spartans, the humans ultimate weapons that slaughtered so many sangheili brethren in combat. It wasn't long ago that all of the covenant thought of them as unholy demons sent to stop the Great Journey, and in the end they did, but for a good reason. The thought of the unstoppable, enhanced humans being on his side eased the fear of them only for a short while.

Nira scratched his helmet as he contemplated Patterberg's plan. "Whad'ya say split chin?" Patterberg spat. "Let me think for a moment Patterberg!" Nira snorted in annoyance. Nira slowly sat down in the control room's gravity seat, and lowered his head. Nira didn't have any objections to the plan but wanted to appear to the human that he was thinking, they may be on the same side, but it doesn't mean he didn't have contempt for them.

Finally Nira spoke and lifted his face to the monitor, "Agreed, send your Spartans down first, and then I'll let my spec ops down to assist them in reconing the Brutes; this mission will happen tomorrow. When they spot and map out all the camps the cleansing will start." Patterberg's image nodded as Nira waved his hand over the hologram to end the transmission with the human. He slowly stood and rested himself on the chair as the blue light faded away. Suddenly the control doors opened and he heard foot steps. A minor entered the control room with his new, blue combat harness glittering in the violet and blue hues of the light. The minor was young and strong; spitting image of what Nira Farem used to be over 40 years ago.

The young elite hesitated in the doorway, and Nira could tell that he was nervous. Nira turned around and held out his hand. "Go on brother what is your message?" He nodded to the minor. The minor must have not heard him as he still was scoping out the control room like it was his first time, in
awe of the overwhelming authority of it.

"Your Excellence," He finally breathed, "I came here to ask you if I may join my spec op brothers in slaughtering the jiralhanae?" He asked nervously.
"How do you know of this operation minor!?" Nira asked in a furious tone.
"I overheard while I was traveling to the summit to repair a banshee."
The minor was still worried he might be punished for his stupidity rather then his bravery, and took several steps forward to try and hide his anxiety. Nira paused and examined the young recruit, looking him up and down while he stepped down from the gravity seat. Nira tried to be stern, but something in him still saw himself in the minor, and saw something special in the sangheili soldier.

"Tell me sangheili, what makes you more qualified than someone above you?" Nira sneered lowering his shoulders and raising his gaze. "What is it that you have to gain from all of this?" The minor fell silent, then breathed in and walked forward. "I have nothing to lose, and nothing to gain. I don't have any qualifications other than I know this is what I'm meant to do." Nira smirked. "You remind me of myself when I was younger. Young, dumb and eager to please, but most of all you have the thirst for adventure like I once had." Nira placed a hand on the minor's shoulder. "I will also give you a spec op harness, but do not say anything about this minor! I don't want all of our ranks thinking I'm too weak for my position as Fleet Admiral." Nira looked at his other energy sword. He gripped it and held it out to the minor. "Survive this operation and I will give you my blessing to promote you to major." The minor slowly walked up the steps to the Fleet admiral.

"I bestow my other energy sword as a good luck charm for you." Nira slowly let go of the hilt as it landed in the minor's hands. The minor gripped it as his eyes shined in awe of the holy weapon. "It brought me luck on more than one occasion, but I'm sure you won't need it." The minor glanced down towards the sword. "One more thing I must ask you Minor." Nira said.
"I will answer it with the best of my abilities my excellence" He knelt down in front of Nira.
"What is your name?" The sangheili lifted his head
"My name is Ilte' Arcod, and I won't fail you Fleet Admiral I promise you my life."

Halo Clairvoyance - Chapter 2
Date: 26 January 2010, 9:32 am


Halo Clairvoyance
Advanced Drawing Assignment
Chapter 2

By Gary Cogdill



// January 20th, 2555 on board the UNSC Clairvoyance orbiting Unknown Planet //

Ren gazed at the new poster that the on board media station had spammed all across the Clairvoyance. The poster was that of covenant ships torn to pieces orbiting a planet that seemed to look like Reach, before it was turned into a pearl. Ren giggled at the unoriginal and poorly done work put into the poster. In it were some covenant ships from previous battles that the UNSC got lucky on, others were destroyed loyalists ships that the Elites had annihilated. Most of the ships were copied and pasted though, just pure laziness, but the main focus of the poster was bold white words saying "Honor the Fallen."

The memory was still fresh as ever in her mind, as if it was burned behind her eyes just yesterday. In her hometown in Wyoming people rocked the streets with celebration. Beer bottles flew half empty or half full, people firing make shift fire works, some even were just containers filled with dry ice thrown in the air as they went off. Her entire life was spent living in a world where humanity was losing a war against a alien empire that seemed unstoppable, but in the end there was light in the darkness the human race was sunken in to. That light was a single man that brought the covenant empire to it's knees. A Spartan. The stories spread across her town like wild fire and jumped into fairy tales in others, Spartans' were unbeatable, Spartans' were not human, Spartans' did not exists, Spartans ' are bioengineered. The stories she heard around the late night bonfires of these Spartans' would stand her hairs on end, like they were so powerful that even their stories sent electric shocks to the listeners, no matter how many times she heard it. Maybe it was the flickering light of the flames licking the night air, maybe it was just the atmosphere it created, or maybe it was that glimmer of hope that she held on to that made the word Spartan her Superman. That was when Ren was only 15 years old, it's been three years since then. She found it odd to think that so much took place and abruptly ended in such a short time.

Ren's day dream came to a screeching halt as she was startled when the hallway she was in began to shake. "The Covenant?" Ren whispered to herself. She raced to the window as her dark hair whipped around her from her speed. She soon came to see what was causing the floor to quake under her, a gigantic soldier sheltered in metallic armor which was poorly painted to look like woodland camouflage. She couldn't see his face as he still wore his helmet that looked extremely similar to those ODSTs wear. The armor was bent, burnt, scuffed, stained and any other adjective describing its poor condition. A jolt ran up her spine and the hairs on the back of her neck rose with the ones on her arms. Her light, honey colored eyes widened and fixated on him. She pressed her hand to the window and her eyes met the metal man, her image reflected back in his visor. "A Spartan!" She breathed on the glass causing the water vapors to condense on it. He started moving, and she followed the Valkyrie shadow of him.

Adrenaline pumped through her body causing her to feel weightless as she sprinted down corridors and hallways. So many questions to ask, so many things she could learn! The Spartan kept on walking but even Ren couldn't keep up with his speed, she was baffled at this spectacle. The Spartan seemed distracted, from the stories Ren was told as a little girl and a marine, a Spartan could spot a grunt five miles away with just their eyes. This one, though, didn't even realize a marine was following him, it wasn't as if she was trying to keep herself hidden, she wanted him to see her. She sped past several marines, her tan skin and dark hair becoming just a blur to them. They eventually stopped what they were doing to watch what she was running after. Groups of them gawked at the Spartan walking to the bunk rooms. The bunk rooms? Ren thought. He can't sleep on any of those things wearing that. Ren lost sight of the Spartan when he went into the bunks. She quickly followed, only glancing back for a moment to see the crowd of people she had caused to follow her then her body hit something hard. Ren was knocked back on to the floor, startled she sat there trying to find where the sudden spark of pain had come from.

The Spartan slowly turned to see who had rear ended him. Ren rubbed her nose to ease the pain as the shadow of the massive figure engulfed her. The Spartan turned fully to face Ren, his armor's gel layer making indescribable sounds. Ren shook off the vertigo that was pounded into her head from impact, her ponytail had come loose and her long, chestnut hair wrapped around her shoulders. When she opened up her eyes a jet black hand was held out in her face she gulped and tried to suppress the sudden anxiety that had consumed her. Ren pulled her head back and stared, startled by the enormous hand.
"Here let me help you up marine" a deep voice rang. Ren grabbed it as it easily lifted her up to her feet. "I… I'm sorry sir!" Ren pleaded to the Spartan saluting awkwardly in the process. She was beyond embarrassed at her first encounter with a Spartan. Walking straight into him without paying proper attention, how could she have been so negligent. Several other marines were out of there beds in their pajamas looking at the two of them talk. To Ren it seemed like hours passed waiting for the Spartan's response.

"Its okay marine just look where you're going next time" the Spartan laughed. With that, the Spartan quickly turned and continued down the hall of bunk beds, but as he turned Ren caught a number on his chest plate. 089, The Spartan's tag is 089? Ren thought. As the Spartan reached the end of the hallway he stopped and looked at Ren again.
"And by the way, " Spartan-089 said "it's not nice to stalk someone." Then leaving her sight the Spartan continued to where ever he was going. Ren then finally noticed all the marines were gazing their eyes at her now. Ren turned bright red and stiffened, and quickly walked out of the room.

Embarrassed twice? What the hell! Ren thought as she exited the bunks into the hall once more. She spotted the Spartan again through blast doors that had been malfunctioning lately and were closed for repair. She quickly snapped herself to the wall to hide from the Spartan, and gently peered around the corner. The Spartan was greeted by a tall woman with a hug. She was covered with scars from top to bottom, dressed in regular marine attire Ren could only assume that the woman was also a Spartan herself. The female Spartan had her platinum gold hair tied into a pony tail just to keep it out of her face, and for assumed regulations.

After a few minutes of talking and laughing the two Spartans headed toward the armory after a lieutenant came up and said something to them. Ren knew she too could get to the armory fairly quickly so she sneaked to the armory door and she curiously looked into the armory through the door's window. Totally oblivious to the fact other marines were walking in and out the armory. Ren's day of hunting in Wyoming took over her senses as she kept her eyes on the Spartans being greeted by several ONI spooks.

The Spartan she came to call Spartan-089 had taken off several pieces of his armor to get comfortable. Finally, the unveiling of who was behind the helmet. He took lifted the battered helmet off his shoulders and gingerly set it on a table. To Ren's surprise Spartan-089 was well ...normal. Not a mythological beast that they were made out to be. His jawline was chiseled, like that of a leading man in the movies, and well groomed goatee. His once crew cut hair had grown out to a shaggier styled version, and his smile seemed to shift only to the right side of his face. His eyes to Ren were the best of his features. Hazel twirling down into dark brown, like the color of hot springs in Tensleep Wyoming she used to go to as a girl. Ren quickly snapped out of her probing thoughts. There is no way she could have the hots for a Spartan. That was definitely not allowed.

"You need something marine?" a male voice said out of no where startling Ren as she squeaked. The man shocked by the sound Ren made laughed "Wo! Hah, calm down there soldier. I'm sorry I spooked you" he apologized. "No sir let me apologize, I didn't know the Clairvoyance had Spartans aboard. I'm just a little star struck." She quickly said. "I'm as shocked as you are marine, I'm just glad they're on our side." The marine cladded in ODST gear said. The ODST stuck out his hand out for a shake.
"My name is Askerson, and you are?" he smiled waiting for an answer from her. "I'm Lance Corporal Church, Ren Church sir." She caught his hand and held it firmly. "Church huh? Why does that name sound so familiar?" he itched his head trying to dig out an answer to his own question.

"Oh well guess I'll never know, anyways wanna go in and watch?"
"Watch?" Ren asked.
"Yeah the Spartans are being set up with new MJOLNIR armor."

Askerson gestured for her to walk into the armory. When she didn't move he then casually shrugged his shoulders and walked into the armory and sat down on a bench. Ren decided to follow her new ODST friend and entered the armory as well. The armory opened up with rows and rows of rifles, pistols, grenades, SPNKr Launchers, shotguns and other weapons stocked up. Next to the weapon lockers was an open space full of seats that Askerson had sat down on. Beyond the benches were more olive drabbed crates carrying more weaponry for the Expeditionary force that the lockers couldn't hold. In front of the benches was a armor station that was created for the Spartans on board.
"Alright Spartan here is your new MJOLNIR armor a Mark VI F/S." A man in a lab coat that was way to big for him said. "Must be a spook" Askerson whispered to Ren. "Another ONI scientist up in a observatory overlooking the armory gave an okay sign with his fingers.
"All damn spooks must be germophobes or sumtin." Askerson said shivering in disgust of ONI personnel standards.

"Askerson, you do realize we can all hear you right?" the ONI scientist said with annoyance. Askerson shifted himself a bit to reassess his situation he put himself in. "I knew that" Askerson said crossing his arms in defiance. Ren laughed and tried to cover her smile. Another habit she had gained while living on Earth from her parents and their parents.

"Sierra-089 please connect yourself with the armor station please" the intercom crackled. 089 walked over to the station with the female Spartan. He grabbed the new Spartan helmet and connected the cord in the back of it. A lift raised him up and held him in place in mid air. Several mechanical arms came out and began removing pieces of armor and replacing them with new and better parts. This sight was astonishing to for Ren to behold. A Spartan being given his new armor right in front of me! She looked at her hands as she lifted them from her thighs, they were shaking extremely fast. Am I that stunned of this? She thought thinking of herself pathetic that she was getting all round up over a soldier getting armor.

"How does it feel Gary?" The female Spartan asked. So that's his name? Gary? I had an uncle Gary so weird thought Ren.
"A bit odd but it makes life a lot easier… ooh! than doing it ourselves" he said as the machine continued to use its arms as they rotated and twisted around the Spartan. After around 20 minutes the machine was nearly complete with the Spartan. "Wow this is a ride!" Gary exclaimed as the last part, a armor piece for his hand was placed on. The Spartan dropped down with his new armor and quickly tested it out by doing a few jabs and punches. "This fits like a glove! Hurry up Linnea and gets your armor set." Gary said as he walked over to the armory and grabbed a special battle rifle configuration out of the olive crates.

Linnea placed her helmet on and did the same motions that Gary did before the machine started up and began on her. "By the way Linnea the machine has been programmed to modify your armor's color after it is fully emplaced upon you. Linnea unable to communicate at the moment gave a thumbs up. Ren had been sitting in the armory the past 40 minutes doing nothing but living her fantasy. Although this was her off time on the Clairvoyance and she should be resting for tomorrow's big attack on the brutes, but she was too enthralled by the Spartans she didn't pay attention to what she should be doing.

The armory seemed to Ren like it was the only room on the ship that had its lights on; which was a little pet peeve of hers. When she was little her family always bothered her on turning the lights off. She still doesn't know why to this day but she inherited the trait from them. Her eyes were getting heavy, Gary noticing the young marine was about to pass out walked over to her, his
every step making her jolt up a little bit more every time as her eye lids shot up.

"Hey Linnea, I'll be right back, you get set up for the op I'm taking this one to the bunks so she can rest for tomorrow." Gary said as he walked out of the armory with Ren in his arms.

//1900 Inside the Drop pod bay, On board the UNSC Clairvoyance//

Captain Patterberg's voice rang echoing and just a little flat, throughout the drop-pod bay.

Gary and Linnea, the only people down in the bay, quickly readied themselves for the drop, burying anxieties with attentions to detail like placement of equipment, weapons, and other sundry gear within the cramped interior of the single occupant orbital insertion drop pods. Each piece of ordinance had its place as standard operating procedure for two reasons. Space within the ceramic ablative shells of the pods was at a premium and became cramped for the occupant very quickly. Nothing could be allowed loose for fear of damaging the people or equipment and because orbital insertion using the 'coffins' had to be balanced and carefully controlled all the way into atmosphere for fear of exposing a less protected area to the super-heated plasma air caused by the dropping pod. Fear of a pinhole in the ablative covering ceramics focused one's thoughts admirably. If it happened, it was the same as turning a plasma torch on yourself with no where to go or run. There are better ways to die, preferably in bed.

"Alright Spartans! As always, first in, last out! You will secure and hold the LZ. The Elites' team of spec ops will meet up with you for the later recon." Patterberg explained as the Spartans finished the securing of equipment. Each Spartan quickly climbed into their pods, securing straps over chests and around legs to keep from bouncing around inside the small area that was their only comfort from the insertion. Some intel weenie was said that when the chutes failed on drop, the pod doubled as a coffin for disposal, given the pod and occupant would wind up auguring into the ground at terminal velocity. Real confidence builder.

The pod doors closed length wise and the helmet of each Spartan compensated for the dark by imposing Patterberg's image inside their HUDs, right beside the vital signs of the other Spartan. The only concession to contact between the soldiers at this time.

"Intel believes there will be little to no action during this OP. Simple splash-n-dash." Patterberg continued. "To tell you two the truth this OP is beneath an ODST but I want to show you off to the Elites. They need to realize we can watch our own." Patterberg's image flickered slightly as the pods shuddered and slammed from side to side for a bit, lowering into the floor of the ships drop deck. Final preparation for drop, taking on a closed bottom shell of ceramic polymer to aid in the friction of re-entry through the planet's atmosphere. Many were the rude jokes about sliding on the ceramic cover in readiness for orbital insertion.

"Aye aye, sir! We'll strut our stuff," Gary realized as he said this, something felt wrong. He He glanced to the right of his HUD and called a subroutine to the fore. His pod harness had not automatically secured on the right side. He could and would move around during the drop. He forced one arm up carefully to the unconnected framebar that was loose. Carefully, because given the inherent strength of the suit's armature, he could tear the inside electronics out by the roots or even more of the securing harnesses and braces. The clamshell torso armor bulged too much by his raised arm for him to be able to pull the offending harness back down.

A tiny private communication window opened in the HUD to the right of the captain's image. The left window showed the captain distracted by a technician getting him to sign off on something, while the new comm window showed Lin's cramped face. "Gary, my telltales show your heart rate up and blood pressure rising. Everything okay?"

A disembodied voice came over the internal comms of both Spartans, "Drop in 10 ticks."
The captain looked up nonchalantly and sketched a lazy salute, turning off his comm to the Spartans.

Gary felt his composure torn. The drop clock... his partner... This.Damn.Harness.

Shudder! Slam! Bang!

That same voice, "Drop!"

The force of the pods being ejected down toward the slowly listing planet threw Gary against his harness. He twisted and hit his helmet forcefully against the low overhead. Gary decided the harness was a lost cause as he felt the freefall of space but he knew not for long.

"Gary, your vitals are worse. Report!" Lin composed herself from fluttering null-grav after such a violent drop from the ship.

Gary fought hard not to move. His earlier hitting of the overhead had done enough. He could see in his HUD the pods status. There was a bad listing to port and the angle was increasing. The pod did not carry enough propellant to correct this and keep balance during reentry. He watched the pods status as the outer pickups of his helmet registered the beginnings of sound. He began to feel his weight slowly returning and settling to the bottom of the pod. He was listing three degrees out of plane of attack for entry. The sound outside increased. It turned smoothly from a steady sigh to the sound of sand flowing around the shell.

The sound outside progressed to a roar and Gary knew he would be killed inside the pod as soon as the angle increased too much and strained the outer ablative layer. The top of the pod was unprotected armor, not to last long in the hellish fires outside. Gary bounced hard inside as the aerodynamics changed. Using his eye designator, he called up subroutines. He hacked the pods telltales and repeated a loop showing the pod is fine condition, a perfect virtual entry to the planet. Lin wasn't fooled.

"Gary!"

"Linnea, my straps failed and the pod is turning. I have to compensate or I'll never make it down in one piece. The Clair' doesn't need to know and scrub the whole mission. I can pull it out."

"What are you going to do?"

"When the angle is too great I'm going to blow the hatch and break through the weakened shell." A new twist of turbulence slammed the pod and the angle steepened.

"Gary, no! You won't survive the reentry plasma bloom, let alone the landing! What about the retro fire to slow decent before the 'chutes deploy?"
]
He ignored the question and watched the pods sensors. The real ones. The temperature outside increased and the shell thinned. The tilt of the pod caused the unprotected upper portion of the pod to enter the plasma bloom. The metal above his head began to glow cherry red, casting the interior lighting into a promised hell. He watched as the heat continued to climb. The interior light went from red to white. He slammed his hand down against the harness tearing at the equipment. The displays began to static out and fuzz as they failed but he saw that he had given the pod a slight spin around the long axis. The equipment and its connection to his HUD failed altogether. Instead he watched the light reflecting down on him.

The light took on a bluish tint and the sound outside began to rise till it drowned out even his own hammering heart.

Gary slammed out his elbow and his knee at the same time. A second blow from the mighty armor and the hatch door separated from its hinges. Ceramic splinters flew out to the sides of the edge as he smashed through the quickly eroding shell. He bent and kicked. He felt the umbilicals connected to the rear of his armor tear as the interior oxygen hook ups disconnected. His armor HUD reported that he was now on internal oxygen alone. That he hadn't planned on. That was all the air he would have until he reached the lower atmosphere.

The static built up by the plasma roaring around him drowned out any other communications from Linnea or the Clair'. They were now in complete comm blackout. He floated with the door in his right hands grip, the strength of the servos twisting the metal slightly. The way he floated free was surreal and his time sense seemed to leave him in limb.
He had been lucky, he emerged from the pod with door in hand with the pod directly between him and the dense and denser atmosphere of his entry below him. He snatched a harness strap free from its mooring and tied the door quickly to the outer jamb. Making sure the door was inverted, he used the removal of another strap to twist him up and over. The curve of the door was now resting in its original place only reversed, him cradled in the curve outside. He strapped the door down and held on to the dangling ends of both sides with each hand. He kept his chest to the curve and looked into his surroundings. All around him was the hell of fiery reds, whites and blues; licking out and around, reaching for him. His visor HUD was awash with warnings and telltales of impending doom. The light began to change and he could feel the body of the pod shuddering under heat it shouldn't have suffered, metal pattering against the underside of the door. He watched the flames and quelled the HUDs warnings with a blink.

So many ways to still buy it now, he thought. Heat could reach my oxygen tank at my back. The pod burns through to fast... I fail to open the backup chute.. terminal velocity...

SLAM! The pod was hit by increasing air pressure and shuddered ominously.

Heart attack, he finished the thought.

The pattering of melted metal hitting the underside of the door increased but he thought, wait... yes! The plasma is decreasing, I'm slowing! Hot damn!

He spared a quick glance over and a distance away he could see Linnea's Drop pod. The coffin was making a textbook re-entry.

He smiled, she was always the teacher's pet.

The outer plasma began to gutter and falter but the melting metal had eaten through. His HUD declared new warnings of damage to shields, his suit was losing power, oxygen, protection he hoped to use when he neared ground. He reared back a fist and plunged his fist through the doors softening metal. He groped blindly for a second.

Thank SOP!, he thought desperately. His hands closed on his pack and he rolled. His arm came up through the rapidly enlarging hole of the door. His shields at the arm were partially depleted and heat had already began to bubble the metal and the underlying gel layers of armor. He continued the roll and ended outside the pod and its heat and rapidly melting and cooling metal. Gary fell away from the pod and strengthened his armor toward his feet, raised his elbows in the heat and spun expertly. With shields at his feet strongest he plummeted through the atmosphere feet first.

Shield power dropping as quickly as the friction of the denser air. Finally his own personal plasma was gone but he had to extend the freefall to cause his armor to cool. He moved the pack to his back and strapped in. This time the straps all snugged properly and the pack was secure behind him between the shoulder paltrons. He watched the pod tumble beside him, now looking more like some abstract nightmare than his ride down. He knew he was moving too fast and he knew he could bever hope to deploy the chute in the pack in his hand and not rip it to shreds. What the opening of the material would do to his crotch did not bear mentioning.

The HUD altimeter spun crazily down and he delayed the opening. He knew he had to time this right. Time the opening to stall as much velocity as possible, reserve power for shields, or even try for a deeper area of the many lakes or ponds below that Intel had briefed them on. He already knew he was aimed for one of the bodies of water but the rest...

The altimeter continued to countdown frantically. The pod plunged ahead of him and hit the water deeper, he saw and took hope.

Gary counted, debated, hesitated, pulled and cursed to any power that would listen.

He snatched the cover on his release and the pack sprung open and the lead parachute deployed snatching the greater material out into the howling wind. The spider-silk of the shroud blossomed and the cryolines pulled taut with the sound of a dropped piano.
The material was designed to be as tough as possible. It faired better than the rest of his body. Honestly, its not the fall that kills you but the sudden stop. And this sudden stop just about castrated him despite layers of protection and armor. However, everything has its breaking point. Thankfully this time it was the harness connecting to armor rather than tortured flesh. The reminder of the pack stayed with him, as the parachute fluttered away. Freefall returned for one second.

Two seconds.

Three seconds.

Four seconds.

He slammed into the leading edge of a lake at over a hundred miles an hour. Water sprayed fifty feet into the air. HUD read oxygen at 35%, shields at 12%, power at 3%, though the organic instrument behind Gary's eyes provided the most damning information. He had plunged through water and into about 10 feet of sand and silt. His hands were pinned above his head and his helmet and finally succumbed to air pressure and lifted ever so slightly. Water was pouring in and his undies were getting wet. Well wetter than they were when that pod blew. With a awkwardly placed elbow he managed to get the visor down but his armor was half full and his oxygen was spent.

A sudden feeling of dread overwhelmed him. He was buried without his coffin, were the intel weenies going to be upset. He started to feel woozy and his eyesight already hindered by muddy water began to black out. A spark in his helmet woke him up again as a familiar voice rang over the com system.

"Gary! The Elites were already down here watching us come in. They are sending one of their soldiers in to get you out!" Linnea's voice shouted over the comm. Gary kept himself awake barely until something grabbed him by the back of his helmet and lifted. There was a terrible tearing sensation around his legs as the lake bottom refused to release him. Several seconds went by wondering which would give first and he shot up out of the water. Gary emerged from the five feet of water into the air and ended sliding on his back at the water's gravelly edge. He quickly removed his helmet to breathe fresh air. So close to drowning in just a few feet of water.

"Human, are you alright?" the Elite waded ashore as Gary inspected his helmet for any damage done during the fall. The Elite squatted down beside him and waited for an answer as Gary gained his composure again.

"I'm fine... and thanks for the help." said the rumpled Spartan. The Elite's face was covered in some special forces helmet very similar to a Spartan's.

"I only wish I could have been here sooner. The pod is still under out there about twenty feet from where you landed." The Elite reminded Gary as he pointed to the body of water. Gary grabbed what he brought up with him, a rucksack filled emptied of the parachute but still containing 200lbs of ammo and the battle rifle he had harnessed to his torso before getting in the little deathtrap of a pod. Coffin indeed, he mused, this story would get him a few drinks aboard the Clair'.
"My commanding officer in this sector is waiting for you around here with your spartan friend." The spec op said as he pointed into the forest. The night sky was almost invisible as green lush trees covered every inch of it. The forest was eerie, Gary was so used to the forests on Reach as a child that he forgot that forests don't come with engine sounds and make shift explosions 24/7.
The water began to dry while he and the spec op elite were walking to the others.
The elite was invisible using his camouflage to hide himself from any jackal snipers. Gary didn't have any fancy add-ons to his armor to do that, so every 5 seconds he would twitch his eyes to his motion sensor for any movement, something all spartans were trained to do. The forest almost seemed identical to those on Reach. Even some of the plants seemed the same. What he could remember before he was kidnapped was very vague and was almost like a dream to him now, he couldn't grab hold of it as it taunted him like mist. Gary stopped as his motion sensor marked 2 dots moving east. 089 put his hand up as his elite partner drew out his energy sword. The elite began to chant a whisper to himself as he waited for the Spartan's next move.

"You stay here spec op I'm checking out these two contacts." Gary said as he raised his BR55 and began to sneak up on his prey. "As you wish human." The elite responded.

Sneaking through foliage and ducking under dead lumber Gary was soon on top of his enemy, two skirmisher jackals, they had split up from their full pack and were menacingly hulked over eating a rotting corpse of some native animal. What was strange is that jackals and skirmishers were the same creature but something the covenant did to the skirmishers caused them to almost go primal similar to brutes. One skirmisher had almost all of his quills on the back of his head cut. Several times it would fidget with its hair like it was an itch on its back.
The other was to busy clawing the left overs of their kill to even pay attention to any sound. Gary decided to not kill them since their pack wasn't all together. If he were to snap these birdos' necks the others of the pack would find their bodies and alarm the brutes.

Gary went back to the elite to report his findings. "Well we've got two kigyar skirmishers fighting over food and what not." Gary said. The elite eased himself down as his sword slowly turned off.
"Reclaimer I suggest we continue on to the group." This time the elite took the point and walked around a ridge that he must he had went previously. Gary wondered why the elite didn't just lead him there in the first place. Almost like the elite was testing the spartan. Could this mission just be a huge test for us Spartans? Gary thought as he followed the spec ops elite to a tree almost three times the size of a redwood that seemed almost hollow. The elite turned his sword on and roared a guttural sound.

Several other swords simmered on as the spec ops elite team turned off their invisibility. Linnea came out of a hollow about 50 feet up holding on to the tree for balance. Gary knew she was smiling at him, it was just instinct after fighting along side her for the past 16 years. Knowing he was with her, he knew they could show to these elites that Spartans are what the stories say they are, legendary.

Halo Clairvoyance - Chapter 3
Date: 5 February 2010, 5:25 am

Halo Clairvoyance
Chapter 3

By Gary Cogdill



// 19:50 January 20th, 2555 on Unknown Planet//

A 'Gathering Of Giants' would adequately describe the scene of the Spartans conversing with the Elites. Towering monolithic figures, rumbling voices, auras of power that promised bloodshed and pain. The immovable objects meeting the unstoppable force, this time seeming to be on the same side. Discussing the same purpose.

Ilte' was nervous. He, just a Minor Sangheili in his heart chambers, felt a fraud. Disguised, wearing the shell and cloth of a greater caste. Promoted maybe in spirit but still feeling lesser in comparison to those greater Sangheili' who wore such garments proudly. They wore them proudly because of a simple thing. They earned them. Ilte' had yet to and feared the future of such an endeaver. Adding 'insult to injury', as the humans put it, he was now paired with the humans Spartans. The most deadly enemy the Covenant had ever faced.

Spartans were the Sangheili' equal in almost every way imaginable. Be it in fighting, strategy, or tactics, Spartans were extraordinary examples of a race already worthy of greater things and respect. Before the Great Schism, most Sangheili' officers and other caste races asked the once great Prophets to allow the humans into the ranks of the Covenant. The Prophets, knowing the dire secrets of the human race, denied and later punished those who made such a grievous demand. Frightening the fragile Prophets and threatening their stranglehold on control and power. Ilte' tried to keep his composure in front of these great warriors. What had he done asking his Fleet Admiral to let him join with these experts?

"Spartans!" grunted Rtun, the SpecOps leader for the operation. Reminding himself, Spartans were stubborn but not dumb; they demanded respect, same as everyone else. Rtun never had any high regard for Spartans. He thought of them as... less. Stories the Covenant pressed on the masses were that all Spartans had been given sangheili' blood to enhance them. Genetic shortcutting to enhance the super-soldiers. No matter now, Rtun reassessed his tone. "Spartans, draw closer as we require your thoughts on our trail I have laid out for us," Rtun feigned indifference to hide his rising revulsion.

The two Spartans walked over to SpecOps group as Rtun clipped a data crystal into his foldable holo-console. The surface of the field unit lit and a function touched called the surface to light about a foot off the surface. Terrain was shown in dull brown with a line of red throughout detailing the path for the small units to follow. In yellow arrows, possible areas for enemy units were marked. The light from the projection underlit the watching soldiers. Some like the Spartans, underlit to ominous effect.

Ilte' hardly cared for the scene. Ilte' turned away, knowing the details of the briefing already and looked instead into the night sky tinted with green highlights. Something in the atmosphere with it's ochre-ish clouds and reddish stars. He sighted a moving star shape and believed it was maybe his ship rather than one of the human's. He imagined Fleet Admiral Nira in the 'Thoughtless Resolve' watching over his every step. The blessing the fleet commander emplaced on Ilte's shoulders seemed confusing and stifling. Ilte' nervously chattered his mandibles ever so slightly, a tick he acquired at a young age on his homeworld while being raised by his creche-uncle.
Though 25 years old by human reckoning, Ilte' was an extremely young Sangheili' male chiseled by his people's ideals and his own exacting training and indoctrination. Though he missed the cleansing of the Jiralhanae, he knew he would account for himself well now in combat. His fear did not daunt his need to take the furballs with him when he did succumb to the embrace of ages.

"So, we have come to a state of union, Spartans?" Rtun asked.

The Spartans looked on at the SpecOps leader, their faces hidden behind visors reflecting the forest and the face of the SpecOps, then as one they nodded in unison.
Rtun turned directly to the rest of his command, especially the wet one assigned at the last moment, Ilte. "In a short while brothers we shall provide assistance to the Spartans as they mark every single jiralhanae encampment, patrol path or outpost. human repeaters will mark the way. Do not activate them until you know the area is clear to avoid announcing our presence. We will have our time of honor." the Sangheili troop rumbled assent in support. As they gathered their gear, a stray gust of wind caught a hollow knot or maybe cavity within one of the nearby tree equivalents. The strange creaking echo rolled softly around them making many of quirk upper mandles in the Sangheili version of a smile.

"A sign from the gods my brothers, they will be pleased of our slaughter!" Rtun shouted with another round of sangheili roars of anticipation. "Remember Spartans, we will be behind you watching your back for any patrols." Rtun said. "Thank you, Rtun your help is extremely appreciated." The light violet Spartan said. Both Spartans picked up their weaponry and jumped down the embankment and slid into the bushes unnoticeable. Rtun barked at 2 spec ops and waved them in to follow. The sangheili followed and jumped down as well.
"You! Spec ops" Rtun shouted at Ilte' "Yes shadow?" Ilte' confused asked. "Take this beam rifle and observe over them, if you encounter any brutes in your sights seize his head." Rtun said as he extended his hand with the beam rifle to Ilte'. Ilte' grabbed the beam rifle and inspected it for a few seconds to get to know his weapon. The fine violet case for the weapon shined from the reflection of the stars. Ilte climbed the ancient flora of the planet and found his spot to snipe his enemies. The scene he saw from the large branch was of sheet beauty.// 2013 Hours 22 Jan 2555, Unknown Planet //

Gary and Linnea rushed through the brush at break-neck speeds knowing their Sangheili allies had sent subordinates to watch them. Branches and logs broke as the agile Spartans flitted through the underbrush of the forest. Signs of Brutes littered the area, foot prints from animals long since consumed and others still clutched in crude traps, flailing to try and loosen it's grip and flee to safety. The spongy forest floor muted the Spartans' heavy footsteps. Banshees flew wailed over the tree tops and their engines gave flight to any capable species.

Never seen so many defenses since the war, Linnea thought.

She flicked her status light green letting Gary know they were close to a encampment. She was right on the money; light from fires trembled in the camp on the next rise.

"We've got the first camp, Gary mark it." Linnea whispered as she motioned him closer to show Gary her's for comparison. Then her armor changed color rapidly as she activated her latest toy: the new prototype camouflage technology that had been entrusted to her. It was extremely hard to focus on her form, even for Gary. The mottled patterns quickly crept around every nook and cranny of her armor, efficaciously breaking up her silhouette. Gary did notice that a few strands of her pale blond hair had gotten caught in the neck seal.

Brutes, Grunts and Jackals barked, grunted and squawked about a doorway that had been found in another encampment over previously encrypted comm channels much thanks to the UNSC Clairvoyance's ship AI.

"Doorway?" Gary asked Linnea. " Must be Forerunner. If it's Forerunner we'll need to secure it and let the Elites take care of the rest."
Gary motioned for the camoflaged Elites behind him to move forward, smirking, knowing that the split chins were surprised. Bushes and ferns moved aside around the shrouded Elites and they disengaged their camouflage.

"Yes, what is it Spartan?" one of the Elites queried, his mandibled face masked by a commando helmet.
"One of you go tell Rtun we may have Forerunner artifacts or an installation on this planet and that we'll need more then just a sweep and clean method for tomorrow," Gary said. The Elite bobbed his head in a shallow nod as his companion quickly cantered off into the darkness of the forest.
"Spartan, do you require anything of me?" the last Elite asked.
"Yeah. I need you to create a distraction for me, draw them a distance from the camp for a while so we can retrieve any intel on where that Forerunner stuff is located." Gary said as he jerked a thumb to their right. The Elite dipped again and quietly slipped into the underbrush to plan the distraction, whatever that ended up being.

"UNSC Clairvoyance, this is Sierra-089, something has come up. We've discovered a possible Forefunner installation on this planet." Gary reported into his comm. Linnea signaled she was heading up a few more meters to watch for the Elite's distraction. Gary bristled at the silence from the Clairvoyance.

...

"Sierra-089 we do not have authority to do anything with Forerunner artifacts. I'm linking you to the Thoughtless Resolve's Fleet Admiral," Patterberg said regretfully as a spark of static finally signaled the comm's activation.
"Spartan, I have heard report that you've discovered a Forerunner relic?" the soothingly deep voice of the Fleet Admiral said. Gary, with a twinge of annoyance responded in his own mock of the Admiral's assuasive tenor.
"We haven't discovered it, but from what we are hearing from the Brutes, there are Forerunner artifacts of some form on this planet." Gary checked his Battle Rifle's ACS, still 60 rounds and the 200lbs of ammo on his back if the situation got really hairy. With the Brutes this was the most common result.
"Alright, Spartan, this changes our whole mission entirely," said the Fleet Admiral, disappointment lingering in his words. An ear scraping mechanical shriek came from the direction the second commando Elite had gone making the Fleet Admiral's voice sound hushed in comparison.

"The distraction, Gary! Lets go," Linnea whooped as the two Spartans sprinted up the hill into the camp. Gary was astonished at what the Brutes had left. Their camp was made out of branches and twigs , nothing alien remained. The tents were covered by ancient tree leaves the size of scarabs - the end of the war had devastated the Loyalists. Gary wouldn't be shocked if they were back to using spears.
Efficiently and without hurry they searched every tent in the camp. All that remained were food nipples for the Grunts and rudimentary beds that seemed only fitting for Brute Chieftains. The tents still housed the occasional hologram of the esteemed Prophet of Truth; although dead it was obvious that the voice of the Covenant was still spreading His words. Gary had a feeling the Prophets had enacted several well thoughtout plans and shivered at what they might have set aside in the event they failed. For all Gary knew he could be stumbling into that very plot.

"Gary, I found something," Linnea whispered.

A 'friendly' nav marker placed her about ten meters away behind the tent he'd been searching. Gary decisively demolished the tent he was in to get to reach Linnea, leaving his uniquely Spartan boot impressed in the muddy ground the camp was settled on. Several plasma daubs raked the treetops originating in the currently distracted Brutes' vicinity.

"Hurry Linnea, I think the brutes found our friend." Gary said as he knelt next to her to get a better look at the strange Covenant contraption -shaped like a lemon but still coated in the ever eccentric blue-violet alloy the Covenant favored- in her gauntlet enclosed fist. Linnea flicked it with her finger to see if the item would power on.

"Nothing," Linnea said, her voice hinting a mock pout, "Chuck it in your ruck sack." Gary shrugged and turned to offer easy access to it's flap.

"Oh shit," Gary breathed. He froze in place; a Brute Chieftain clad in armor marked like the smouldering embers of a fire was staring at the two Spartans with a viciously squashed face even a mother couldn't love. The Chieftain forcefully lashed out his gravity hammer -moving far faster than would be thought for a weapon of this bulk- at the Spartans, bellowing.
Linnea pivoted under and in, taking the brunt of the blow in her outstretched hands before latching on in a death grip to the weapons handle effectively stopping the Brute from landing a fatal blow on her comrade. Gary moved without hesitation launching himself into the air and whipped out the heel of his boot into the Brute's throat.

"Ready," Linnea said with anticipation drenching the single word.

"Mark."

Like twin bolts of lighting the Spartans streaked in to tackled the Brute. But this Chieftain had not meerly been given his high status for ferocity alone and with inhuman speed snapped the Spiker from his belt, releasing five near molten 'railroad spikes' of metal into Gary's chest. That was thorough enough to catapult the Spartan away, drain his shields and leave a single spike partially embedded in his armor. The MJOLNIR's shields popped and recovered.
In the split second he'd been airborne the Brute had side-stepped and plucked Linnea from the air, her throat clutched in his massive hand. Linnea clawed at the alien's hand, searching desperately for a weak spot in it's leathery hide ,the bones in her neck ready to give under the strain.
Gary, enraged, sprinted for the beast, his emotions shrouding his senses, blinding him to any tactical approach. In turn, Gary had become the enemy he'd fought, powerful and reckless.

The Brute heaved the captured Demon over it's head and hurled her at the second. She slammed full force into Gary. It cackled at the sight, emboldened by it's sudden victory.
Gary recovered, his rage receeding, and twisted with the impact, his fingers gripping Linnea's shoulder. Her momentum carried her upright -she landed not fifteen feet back from Gary- and they sprung back to give themselves elbow room. The Brute, too inebriated by it's laughter didn't notice that it hadn't won... and definitely wouldn't. They charged the nine foot alien and cold cocked it with perfectly syncronized fists. It's prognathic muzzle caved into it's face and purple-red blood sprayed from the wound. It fell to a knee and rebounded, but too slowly.
Gary snatched up his fallen BR55 and unloaded as many rounds as he could squeeze off. Several three round bursts deflected as the power armor sustained the brunt of the funfire. The Brute rocked with each impact, too shocked from it's injuries to notice Linnea streaking towards it and her combat knife arcing for it's face. Blade slicing with the a half of a ton of Spartan behind it, it cut through the corner of where the alien's lip use to be back through to it's throat. The Loyalist gurgled out a wet scream as it tried to rise, the pain almost too much for the traumatized creature.
Suddenly a plasma beam tapped it, causing the hulking Brute's back to arc into a violent spasm. The armor fell from it's body and it tried to give out a throaty wheeze, the plasma having ruptured it's lungs and blood now filling the cavity.
Thoroughly ticked off, Gary walked over to the drowning Brute as it's dark blood ran freely down it's chest in a river both from it's lastest wound and it's ravaged face.

"Laugh at this you Covenant piece of shit," Gary said, both disgust and irritation empowering his voice, and raised his rifle at the Chieftain's head.
The Chieftain strained out it's last words in a wet bark, mangled jaws slurring it's speech and two meaty fingers plugging the hole in it's chest, "You mongrrrels haven't yet won thiss war!"
Blood from its maw slopped onto Gary's visor and with the pull of the trigger the Battle Rifle sent three rounds into the Brutes hide. It's body sagged for a finally time.

What does it mean by that? Gary thought about it a moment longer then pushed it away.
As the Spartans emptied a few more rounds into the body, making sure it was dead for good, a cluster of Grunts waddled into the camp. They shook in disbelief and shied away from the sight of their leader laying in a pool of it's own blood, the two Demons standing over it.
Gary unsheathed his combat knife and whipped it towards one of the knobbed aliens in one fluid motion. The knife thudded into the Grunt's temple and it limped. Linnea sighted two of the other Grunts as she brought up a pair of M7 sub-machine guns and mowed them down. One's head exploded like a melon. A wave of chitters and grunts faded in from behind the tents. The camp's original residents had returned.
"We've been compromised!" Gary barked as he flagged Linnea to follow. The Spartan duo sprinted down the hill away from the camp as whicked streams of plasma flew around them.

"Spartans! Quickly! Hide yourselves as far a distance as you can reach!" an Elite's voice resonated over their coms," I'll give you as much time as I can muster!"
Beams danced overhead and a Brute fell. Gary felt a grin tug at the corners of his mouth. Skirmisher Jackals slid down the slope in persuit just behind them. He could hear their raspy snarling grow louder. Jackals were fast, their semi-hollow bones lightening their mass.
"By the Forerunners!-" the Elite gasped over a hail of static.

Then the forest floor became blacker than the void as everything went silent.



// 21:49 January 20th, 2555 On Unknown planet //

Ilte' was paralyzed, as was almost everything else in the entire valley. Anything caught in that baleful gaze was staring. An enormous construct appeared to have risen from its hiding place disguised as a hill. A forerunner sentinel, having risen from concealment, activated by who knew what and standing stiffly as if in waiting. Its one baleful eye belied its robotic origins with movements bordering on malevolent intelligence and hateful emotions.

In slow motion the entire valley awakened to a new night of nightmares and pain. Alien avian forms took to the air in droves, squawking and honking and fleeing as quickly as possible. Covenant loyalists forgot everything and scrambled for landing areas and awaiting ships. The mass exodus had started and no one wished to stay to find out what the sentinel would do next.

Phantom dropships began to ascend into the sky, making for orbit any orbit. Banshee scout craft screamed away even though they could not get into orbit. They could take their occupants to another place away from what might be every living creatures doom.

An unknown Elite whispered over the comm, "The Brutes! What have they unleashed!"

The enormous sentinel lumbered into motion, tentacle-like arms snaked out into the surrounding air. With snap-hisses, hot beams of greenish-yellowish light began to strike everything flying, including the local wildlife. Like a breath held too long, panic ripped out and engulfed the valley. Activity to get away from the behemoth was frantic and desperate.
"I'm receiving jiralhanae cries over our system, my brothers. They are broadcasting in the clear in their undisciplined panic." Rtun tuned everyone into the same frequency.

"What have we done!"

"Hierarchs have mercy please! AAAGH!"

"My pack has been eaten!"

Ilte watched as more hills in valleys further away began to tremble and shake. Sentinels were awaking all over the planet it seemed. But why have they suddenly awakened? What have the Brutes unleashed? Ilte' thought as he quickly reoriented to the task at hand. Looking through the scope, he found the Spartans rushing to the extraction point at breakneck speeds now. Behind them the Sentinel had caught the forest aflame and they were backlit by hell.

Knowing he should begin to fall back on the extraction point, fired more rounds, helping some of his brothers in their flight to safety. Then he saw it. The fires were beginning to get wilder and hotter. Spreading more and more quickly despite the moisture as they sucked up everything under the steady barrage by the sentinel.
But why have they suddenly awaken? What have the brutes released? Ilte' thought as he quickly remembered his assignment. Looking through the scope he found the Spartans rushing to the ridge with break neck speeds. The forest was soon ablaze from the sentinel's massacre of the loyalist forces.

"My commander, what shall I do?" Ilte' shouted at Rtun from his branch. Rtun looked up to Ilte' but didn't say anything only returning his gaze to the sentinel becoming an arsonist to the planet. Some of the banshees which had earlier got away were speeding past the ridge. Covered in decorum the brutes had placed, it had seem the brutes were on their own without any authority. If it weren't for the situation they were in Rtun would have those banshees scorched until all that was left was ash.

"My brothers let us, assist the Spartans and return to the Thoughtless Resolve." Rtun ordered. As all the other elites ran down the embankment to the Spartans Rtun slowly walked to the edge of the ridge. "It seems the gods have left a few more traps for us to spring." Rtun whispered to himself.

Ilte' quickly jumped down the tree by leaping branch to branch. The severe heat now reaching his position from the winds kicked up by the sentinels. As he reached the forest floor he walked up to his leader.
"Commander? Is everything alright?" Ilte' asked his leader. Rtun didn't respond. Ilte' gave Rtun back the beam rifle as he wielded his plasma rifles. "Please commander when you come to your senses, assist your brothers." Ilte' said as he leaped down the ridge. Sliding down the muddy trail using a previously made skid as guidance. As he reached the bottom the forest was completely different then what it was an hour ago. With a huge orange haze expanding in the background. Ilte' looked down at his armor. It was covered in mud and wouldn't help if he had to use his camouflage.

Ilte' not knowing where his teammates were, ran in the general direction where he had last saw the Spartans. The forest floor, charcoal black was smearing against Ilte's boots. The blood of the forest stains my soul Ilte' thought as a strange smell entered his nose. It was not the carbon smell of wood or plants, but rather a coppery smell, almost like blood. He looked around at the forest floor and saw that just below the layers of detritus and debris was a metallic surface. Other features all about the valley like a butte some distance away had shaken off its coving of dirt and revealed the same bluish violet metal as the rest of the exposed areas. The architecture was that of the forerunners. Hulking shapes were converging on the valley as more and more sentinals awakened.

We did not find a relic, Ilte' realized, it found us... it is the very planet upon which we squabble. But that shock was soon cut short as the Spartans and his teammates appeared from the smoke. One of his brothers was holding his side in pain.
"Hes hurt, we had him create a distraction for us but he was had by the brutes and injured." the green Spartan said as he tried to tend the wound. "Did you Spartans have anything to do with this uprising?" Ilte could feel the beginnings of angry but not having a direction to allow it to flow.

"No. The artifact we found and the sentinel breaches are unrelated. The Brutes were reacting to threat before us and before your diversions. Something else lit this off," the male Spartan provided. His voice too was tight with suppressed anger. Ilte felt the trueness of that and internally relaxed, scanning forest and flames. Off in the distance, sentinels still burned the loyalists from sky and ground.

"Very well," Ilte' turned, "We must get to the dropship over the ridge. You two take the major's body and the rest walk cover. As the Spartans say, no sentient left behind." Ilte now commanded the Elites and the snapped to eagerly to maintain order. The Spartan stared at Ilte' inscrutably for a second and then nodded curtly in appreciation of the situation.

The Spartan finally stood up, weapon trained into the flames creeping up on them. "I think we need--." He was drowned out. The team slipping away with the major's body had stopped and started firing into the air. The Spartans and Ilte' looked up just as the ground shook with a titanic impact and rumble knocking some from their feet. The sentinel had flown to their position and now stood over them. Ilte' just shouldered the strap of the rifle and bared his holy blades. "What is this!" Ilte' shouted as the sentinel looked down on them. "Holy shit!" the strangely colored Spartan shouted. The sentinel groaned again as the arms stretched for them. More segments began to show themselves out of the arm. Finally unveiling strange pincers the size of warthogs.
"Quickly! Escape!" A spec op yelled. But it was too late the arms seized the squad and the Spartans. "I shall not let you capture me!" Ilte' roared as he unleashed his sword that Nira had honorably given him. The sword did nothing but deflect of the sentinel's shield like a rubber bat to a door. The sentinel opened a strange door on its underbelly. Throwing the squad in the sentinel was dark within only the stereotypical forerunner architecture glowed a fluorescent blue.

// On board the UNSC Clairvoyance //

Ren awoke to the 'general quarters' alarm ringing throughout marine country barracks aboard ship. Frantic running in the halls heralded her fellow marines gearing up. She donned her gear quickly and hit the corridor running for the equipment bays. Ren gathered her last bit of hair into a bundle under helmet. Maybe she could manage to look less like a mental patient and more like a marine, she thought.

She regarded a marine to her right in the crowd and asked, "Whats going on?"
The marine next to her was in full gear already, "The attack on the Brutes has been moved up."
They both took a second to check each others rand and name tags in the rush. The marine drew back slightly and Ren fell back a pace.

"Sorry, Gunny Whitney."

"No harm, besides you've been assigned to 5th company, my company. Get to docking bay fifty-four. Full battle rattle from arms lockers Support should have on site," and with that he nodded and turned down a side passageway toward officer country. No man's land for a grunt like Ren.

The bay was a study in controlled chaos, marines in all directions getting equipment and boarding waiting craft of every type and design. Ren approached her designated area as a armorer directed her to racks of weapons. She began signing paperwork and thumbing signatures quickly, barely having time to scan descriptions and types as a second tech walked around her placing equipment in their designated places. Occasionally the second tech would tug a strap or wrap a line into place until she felt the need to squirm. She knew she would have to make adjustments before she boarded her drop craft or the trip would be a miserable one. No one knew one's equipment load like the wearer themselves. She finished with the armorer and took a second to glance out a nearby port. The hangar bay was pouring out craft like rain into a bucket, all heading for the planet.

"Pelican, Golf-237, that way," the tech gestured with a consignment board before moving to the next marine in line.

She scrambled to her assigned station, tugging and setting her harness to more comfortable lines. One hand steadied her MA5 rifle attached to her shoulder so that it snugged cross chest for transport. She checked the slide, jacking it back and making sure the barrel was clear and no stray round in the chamber. Before releasing the slide she made sure the caseless ammo slot was clear of anything until she herself loaded the weapon. Nothing like ruining a trip down to a planet than letting a MA5 round shoot through the ship or somebody.

Gunnery Sergeant Samuel Whitney surprisingly was already at the gangway, ushering troops with his quiet stolid demeanor and the occasional word of encouragement to settle the anxiety of his troop. Seeing Ren, he turned to the pilot next to him, "Go on forward and get with the officer of the deck. That's the last of the troop."

"Copy that," the lieutenant stepped back into the craft, one hand habitually cupping his ear area through the helmet.

"In here, corporal," the 'gunny' stepped into the craft and motioned to the last of the seats in the troop bay area of the Pelican. Then stepped forward toward the flight cabin for his own seat.

"Who's this cutie," a marine whispered as the rear doors began to close.

Corporal Ren flicked the marine off politely, scratching an eyebrow with her middle-finger. She settled into her seat and locked her rifle into place between her legs where brackets were meant to hold the weapon during the drop. Saved on injuries as all were also held down to the seats with solid pulldown harnesses of hardened aluminum. She felt her stomach make the first flutter, first steps to full nausea she would fight all the way to the surface.

The pilot's voice came over the Pelican's loudspeakers, "Alright, orders to place your troop on the frontlines. The is an air assault into an undoubtedly hostile landing zone. We are going in hard and fast with one strafing run to get their heads down and the rest is up to you. Communication with the surface recon team has been gone for an hour. We do not know if it is atmospheric or electronic. So we might be flying blind and that means an exciting ride for all and sundry. Pilot out."

Ren started nervous, moved to nauseous and with the closing of the rear doors and the rising rumble of the engines setting into her spine, she was adding claustrophobia, suicidal urges, and gibbering hysteria. Feeling ashamed, she tried to distract herself with the her neighbor's hand terminal. The smallish scree displayed some vid-tainment of some sort. "I don't recognize that. What vid?"

The marine holding the vid just turned to her with haunted eyes. "This is a hacked feed from one of the external cameras aimed at the planet. I'd hoped to get additional intel."

"But those are fires so big--," she started.

He finished, "-- so big they can be seen from orbit. Welcome to the gates of hell."

It worked, she thought numbly, I didn't even feel us take-off.

Halo Clairvoyance - Chapter 4
Date: 13 March 2010, 12:13 am

Halo Clairvoyance
Advanced Drawing Assignment
Chapter 4

By Gary Cogdill



// 23:12 January 20th, 2555 On board the Thoughtless Resolve//

The Thoughtless Resolve's control cabin was frantic with activity; the chaos all too familiar for Nira having been through similar engagements. Nira, however, was in opposition, frozen in his gravity couch like a monument. His long deep-violet cape flowed languidly over the seatback with the bottom edge fluttering in the grav field's wake. Sangheili Zealots commanded the troop deployment to the planet, golden clad elites who had proven themselves in holy combat against the humans or along side them. They shouted quick instructive orders, their mandibles sap-clicking like the wings of a beetle caught in a sudden gust. Nira remembered his days as a lower ranked officer for The Covenant, how every slaughter of the humans brought him new feelings; pride, joy, disdain, to finally disgust. He was shaken quickly from his drifting thoughts by an approaching Zealot.

"Fleet Master, reports from the ground say Sentinels are burning the entire planet. They target not soldiers but the planet's skin," the Sangheili concluded.
Nira muscled out of his couch jerking it enough to release it from the grav lift that held it aloft. It slammed down onto the deck hitting a crewman.

"Images?" Nira growled in concern.

The Zealot shook his head, still in awe of the behemoth Forerunner guardians scowering the planet. Nira walked down to the main holo screen where two Sangheili crewmen danced over the controls and monitors of the Thoughtless Resolve's flight path.

"Something has awakened the planet," Nira breathed, pausing then continued," I think the Brutes had a hand in it." He turned back to his seat, twisting his cape around him before lifting the command couch back into it's nook in the gravity field.

"Fleet Master, the Brute's ships are behaving erratically, nothing like I've seen before," a technician said, eyes widening slightly as he dragged the image to the main viewer.
"The likes I've never seen either," he said clenching a fist. Nira hated confusion and blind floundering in situations like this. He needed to know.

The image of the burning planet was nothing special to Nira, years of glassing the Human's colony worlds made him numb to it but locations that once harbored the massive Sentinels seemed to be revealing something new about the planet. He looked closely, squinting for details. Trailing the lumbering machines was a metallic surface; definitely Forerunner.

"Quickly, what did our scans speak of when we first entered the system?" Nira asked. He searched the room for an answer but received none and his subordinates eyes betrayed only confusion.

"Did the Thoughtless even scan this planet?" He said angrily. He stared coldly at his crewmen until suddenly one stood.
"The planet never had any signs, Excellence," he said, only able to meet the Fleet Admiral's steady gaze for a moment before looking down.

"Assumptions!"
The young Sangheili cringed slightly.

"And why did you not speak of this when we exited our jump?" Nira roared. The crew didn't respond. "No matter," he huffed, " This planet is an impostor; the planet itself is a Holy Relic and tried to disguise itself from us." Nira waved a claw at the image, the crew's eyes following.
The planet taunted them, tension in the room building as a gathering roar echoed through the chamber. The crew soon was chanting a Sangheili war cry they'd all learned during their training years ago as children on Sangheilios.

"We shall bring death to the Jiralhanae's door, save this Holy Installation and gain honor from this situation which has been building since we first stalked the Brute's fleet nearly a year ago!" Nira cried, rallying the bridge crew and now the entirety of the Thoughtless Resolve's personnel. His mandibles gridded into the Sanheili version of a grin, something he hadn't done in years. He felt his devotion to the Forerunners renewed as it had once swelled in him the first time. He would not allow these corrupt Sentinels destroy the beautiful planet.


// 23:12 January 20th, 2555 on Unknown forerunner installation, inside a behemoth sentinel //

The group quickly gained their composure and stood up. The inside of the Sentinel was stained with golden hues and lighting; the walls, floor, and ceiling all with strange patterns that were consistent with Forerunner aesthetics.
Gary walked up to what seemed to be windows, Linnea followed him wanting to find out the true nature of their situation. The Elites were more than enthusiastic about being inside Forerunner technology. The Sentinel steadied itself as it went over a steep ridge with a similar degree to the one the Sangheili were originally posted upon. The Special Operations Elites began to talk in their native tongue. Gary wasn't sure if their tone but it sounded like questions. The Spec Ops that had taken control of the team before they were abducted stepped forward, "Do the mighty Spartans have a strategy for us." Gary sensed the half sarcasm, ignored it, and nodded in reply.

"Yes, I do have a plan; We ask the AI what it wants with us." Gary looked at Linnea from the corner of his eyes to see if she approved or not. She made no move as was natural to Spartans, the slightest shift in posture might have signaled him yes. "Unless," he continued," you suggest we destroy this Sentinel from within?" The Elite flinched just slightly, a gesture only a Spartan could catch, taken aback a moment before shaking his head "no".

"No. We mustn't destroy this Holy Sentinel," Gary broke the seal on his helmet and lifted it off to give the Sangheili warrior the frown and smirk that mixed on his face. The Elite shifted weight to his hind most leg, a sign of adolescence, something a Sangheili warrior would never do and even less so a Special Operations team leader.

"What we do now is some how communicate with the construct. It seems even more ancient then the ones we saw in the reports," Gary said, "it seems we'll need to tap into this guy if we're ever going to get an in with him." He rapped on the wall with the back of his fist three times.
"I'll see what we can muster," the Spec Ops said walking into the Sentinel's belly.
I have a feeling this planet has a Monitor and he's not far from us, Gary thought sliding his helmet back into place with a click and hiss as the airlock sealed. The HUD reactivated but his motion sensor was made useless with the Sentinel's large yellow blip filling it. He'd have to adjust it's range later. Gary looked at Linnea, shoulders slumping a fraction of a millimeter.
"I'm tired of being stuck in Forerunner shit, Linnea," Gary sighed, referring to their previous engagement with the Brutes almost two years ago on Arctic IV, another Forerunner construct planet. Linnea's head dipped down a little in agreement; her armor's prototype camouflage couldn't understand the Forerunner alloy inside the Sentinel and she shut it off revealing olive armor plating.
Stumbling back into the room the Spec Ops conjured just enough wind to speak, "You need to see this. My brothers and I have uncovered something within the Sentinel." And with that he rushed back out the way he'd come. The Spartans stood and followed in one motion. The Sentinel's insides seemed like an endless maze.

Finally reaching the place the Elite led the Spartans noticed a panel with a hand print design similar to humans, five fingered.
"Please, Spartan, activate whatever hides within the confines of this construct," the Elite said, a hint of desperation and eagerness in his gruff voice. Gary walked over to the panel and watched the Forerunner symbology scrolling lazily across, over and behind the strange hand icon. Placing his hand in the same manner he pressed down on it, silently surprised to feel it resist like a solid object. A diagram of the Sentinel's insides lit and showed an entirely new configuration of the architecture. With jolt, everyone inside lost their balance as the Sentinel stopped dead in it's tracks.
"Did we just stop this thing?" Linnea asked as she looked down at her feet to rebalance herself. The Sangheili team leader walked up to the panel and looked over Gary's shoulder. Little too close there bud, Gary thought remembering his encounters with the serpentine aliens during the war.
"Interesting. So it seems the rumors are true about you Humans. You're able to command the Forerunner Relics." The Elite removed his helmet revealing a young Sangheili, too young to have achieved Special Operations rank already. The Elite's mandibles twitched in an expression no Human would ever figure out. Gary crinkled his nose slightly at the Elite, his face still obscured by his gold tinted mirrored visor.

Too ignorant to be Spec Ops and too young to be one either. "We must now discover a new path out of this leviathan," the Elite exclaimed as he moved his hands across the walls, savoring within himself the splendor of touching such a religious icon as this. He turned to Gary, " From what I saw of the files your Captain gave us you have knowledge of the Forerunner Installations, do you not?"
Gary nodded in response. The Elite seemed about to ask for a favor but before the elite could continue a small far off voice hummed a tune. A light sputtered in a dark hallway and the humming grew louder as the familiarly shaped Forerunner construct came bobbing into the room.
"Oracle!" The Elites gasped as one. It was a Monitor. Gary had been right but never thought it would come to them before remembering that the rampant AIs were all scheming to their core processes.
"Which Monitor are you?" Linnea asked curtly, taking a step towards the machine.
It's design was all too memorable; a single pulsing "eye" surrounded by a spherical chassis. The Monitor's humming continued as if not realizing anyone was there with it.
"Excuse me Oracle, but I..." the Sangheili approached the Forerunner's prized creation. It turned and floated up within inches of his face, scrutinizing him for nearly twenty awkward seconds.
"Meddlers," it chimed offhandedly in the metallic voice it's creators endowed it, proving it was annoyed with their presence. It drifted to the holo panel, pushing Gary roughly aside with the audacity the Spartans well remembered of his other two counterparts. Electricity arched from it's eye and into the panel.
"Excuse me, Monitor, but don't touch that," Gary said leveling his battle rifle at the luminous floating ball. "Reclaimer? Why do you insist on the spread of the parasite on this installation?" it said turning it's glowing pupil to Gary.

"The Flood? It's here on this Planet?" Gary asked in disbelief. "Indeed. The meddlers let them loose! After a hundred-thousand years of a perfect sustainability record a barbaric race of primates waltzed in and let them loose upon the planet!" the Monitor exclaimed having temporarily forgotten the panel. "Now nearly 34.003% of the installation is compromised by the infestation and bound to triple within the next 24 hours." It's dark blue eye studied the motley team. "I am pleased to see Reclaimers within my care. I haven't not had the pleasure in nearly a tenth of a million years!" it said bobbing in delight.
"Please, Oracle! What would you have us do to stop this foul plague?" the Spec Ops cried.
"Excuse me! I am quite rude. I forgot to give you my name. You may call me 252 Finite Power, I am the monitor of this weapons testing facility." Power chimed gleefully.
Gary watched as the Monitor maneuvered over to encompass his vision.

"So, Reclaimer, will you aid me in quelling this outbreak?"
Gary nodded. "SPLENDID!" the Monitor chuckled and zipped through the air in dance-like movement. "You must come with me so we may move this plan into action," it said. A door hatch in the floor popped open and the Monitor dropped out of sight. Gary shrugged and the team jumped down after it.
The group's fall was slowed by a gravity field and they were lowered to the forest floor once more. The stench of burning flesh and trees tainted the air. The monitor reappeared from the bushes in front of the team.
"Follow me Reclaimers!" it hummed. It disappeared again into the smoke leaving a contrail of light behind it. Linnea shrugged, a gesture small enough to be unnoticeable and followed Finite Power. Having no other plan the rest joined her. The entire battlefield had changed drastically within the space of an hour. What was once lush green forest was now a burnt carcass reeking of copper and tar. The sky was different as well, dark green sky was now blanketed by roiling clouds of fire and plasma.
Screeching reverberated across the valley, a sound Gary knew too well. The Flood was spreading. Radio was down for every faction. The Clairvoyance couldn't reach the Spartans and the Thoughtless Resolve couldn't reach their brethren Sanheili. This war had fallen back to the 20th century. The Spartans could care less. They were trained for every possible outcome, this being one of them. The Elites, Gary wasn't sure, in some train of thought would relish the challenge.
The group came to a halt. The Monitor had stopped it's journey at the face of a tree. A fleshy pod was stuck to the face of a tree as if it had been glued there and the Monitor seemed confused by it.

"What do we have here?" the Monitor puzzled floating closer to scan the pod. The pod was a new form, something the Spartans hadn't seen or read about. "It seems the flood have evolved more quickly than I had anticipated..." it concluded.
A strange eye like structure appeared beneath the skin of the pod as it stretched hidden tendons and muscles while scanning it's surroundings. The eye was pupiless but was shot through with prominent red veins and twitched around the pod in agitation.
"This does not forebode well," the Sangheili leader said as he took a step back," We must destroy it now before it does something we may not live to confess." Gary started to step back as well. The pod's eye disappeared but a new tendril sheared through the hide.
"What's this?" the Monitor sputtered tentatively closer to the appendage. It twitched in reaction to the Monitor's new close proximity.

The eye reappeared and looked at the group surrounding it. It seemed almost too bizarre even for the Flood. A strange muted rumble sounded from the pod as it began to quiver. The pod's "arm" tendril suddenly shot out a yellow fluid that splattered everyone. Everyone was shocked but unharmed.
Gary had gotten some on the left side of his helmet and his chest plate. He checked Linnea, her whole visor was smeared with it.

"Oracle?" Ilte' asked. The monitor hadn't removed his gaze from the pod. Slowly Finite Power turned to it's small band of Reclaimers and aliens. The fluid was eating away at the front of it's casing and blue eye.

"Shit, it's corrosive!" Gary shouted and his helmet began dissolving. The Monitor was shorting out as the fluid reached the delicate circuitry within it's chassis.

"Oh.. d-ddeeeaauurr.." the monitor faded, eye flickering until what remained of it landed in the dirt with a noticeable thud.

"By the Forerunners! The Oracle is dead!" a Spec Ops said. The Sangheili's metallic armor dissolving fast leaving them to tear the combat harnesses from their bodies before the corrosive yellow liquid reached their flesh. Gary flung his helmet away as several drops ran down his cheek. Even Spartan discipline couldn't keep him from screaming and he whipped out a can of biofoam spraying it on the wound. By the time the foam neutralized the corrosive he already had a wide gash on his cheek. The pain was enormous. Compared to plasma burns this was no contest. A handful of Elite's weren't quick enough and the acid burned to their wide torso's and they dropped dead. Only the Spartans and the Spec Ops leader remained.

Gary walked over to his helmet, picking it up from the mud, the helmet was almost entirely gone, the opening left was surrounded by scratched titanium missing the green paint that once covered it. Slapping it back on his head enough of it was still functional that the VISR module was still working although almost half of the helmet was corroded away. Linnea's visor was entirely gone but the rest of the helmet intact making her eyes visible and exposed. She decided to throw it away, without a functional helmet the camouflage system won't work. The helmet skipped across the ground into a fern .

"You alright Elite?" Linnea asked as she tied her hair back into a pony tail. Her blond hair stuck out like a sore thumb in the dark forest reflecting any light source.
"I am called Ilte'," placing his wrecked helmet on his head.. His face oozed purple blood from his eyes, mandibles and wounds. "I'm fine," he huffed, coughing up blood.
"No. You're not. Let us work you over," Gary said with biofoam canister in hand.
"No! I will not lose my honor to Human medical equipment!" Ilte' shouted and unsheathed his plasma sword.
Ilte' continued hacking up blood. It stained the soil and smelled of tar. "Let us continue the Oracle's wishes, let us rid this installation of the Flood in any manner possible," Ilte' said making his way over the closest hill, hunched over and dripping blood. The acid had crawled down his throat, it was only a matter of time before it would reach vital organs.
"Alright. I guess we'll need to contact Patterberg, find out how to destroy this damned place," Gary sighed as he slung his BR55 over his shoulder, magnets sucking it firmly in place. Linnea followed, the path soon turning into a steep hill reaching up above the forest. The trees were burning, the mountains were burning, the sky was burning, the planet was burning.

The silence was broken as the depleted uranium round of a MAC gun slammed into the valley, the impact knocking the trio off their feet. The scream and roar of banshees, phantoms and pelicans alike filled the air. The sight was beautiful at that moment with the Humans and Sangheili fighting together against the common enemy that greeted them on the surface. The invasion force was met by Sentinels and Flood, a foe neither species was equipped for.
One of the leading pelicans was hit by a Sentinel laser, the left wing and turbine gouged out. A shower of fire and melting metal tore open the forest floor below. It's momentum carried the wreckage tearing through the forest leaving a half mile wound in the ground across the group's path. Similar firefights erupted across the sky and the Flood threw themselves on the banquet the Sentinels provided. Corpses both Human and alien littered the wreckage.
"That pelican is out ticket in contacting the Clair," Gary remarked sliding down the hill. Linnea looked at Ilte' and he to her both silently agreeing to Gary's plan and followed him down the loose-soiled slope. The pelican's shrapnel powdered the ground in still molten beads splotching their path like the snow of the first winter day on Earth. The metal shards caught the light from the sky and the ground fires making the whole scene seemed surreal.

Linnea shook herself out of the moment's trance and continued down the hill. Several Combat Forms burst from the wreckage of two downed banshees half-melted by laser fire. Their shrieks froze the blood in Ilte's veins and turned his legs to stone. He felt shell-shocked but managed to turn slightly to see the male Spartan slice clean the Combat Form's head, it's blood glowed a sickly yellow and gushed from it neck to spray across the forest floor.
Moving with the momentum of his previous attack the Spartan pulled back into a stabbing motion burying his blade deep into the spongy flesh of another Flood. The fight was like a dance cleanly transitioning from one movement to the next and each attack connecting as swiftly as any Sangheili and gracefully more so.

Linnea joined the fray with her sub-machine guns spouting fire into a Pure Flood Form. The caseless metal-jacketed rounds penetrated the centipede-like creature and tore it's body in two.
Gary released his BR from it's magnetic holster as more Flood surrounded the three. The struggle continued as Ilte' vigorously struck down the Flood and combating his fear with each blow. The Spartans displayed their coordination in return for Ilte's courage.

When the battle finally ended, twenty mangled corpses lay around them in a poor circle. A perfect ending, just like they were taught of Sparta and her warriors. An eerie calm grew around them while battles raged elsewhere.
"Lets go," Gary said waving Linnea and Ilte' over. The pelican was thrashed, the only remaining piece of it was the cockpit complete with half of the pilot's corpse; the other half incinerated by the Sentinel's lasers.

"Poor souls.." Ilte' whispered.
"Here's the radio, thank god, it's still intact." Gary pressed down on the button.

"UNSC Clairvoyance, this is Sierra-089, do you read?" Gary said into the cracked console. Only static. He repeated again. "UNSC Clairvoyance, this is Sierra-089 do you read me? Over."
This time a faint but detectable sound came in return. It grew louder materializing into the voice of Patterberg. "Sierra-089, this is Captain Patterberg. Whats your status and why are you hailing us from Golf 237's radio?"
"237 crashed, sir. We've been trying to reach you. The planet's defense system is active because of the Flood outbreak. We need to destroy the installation before the contamination spreads." Gary replied. Linnea strolled out of the remainder of the troop carrier and searched moodily for any unlikely survivors.
"Alright, Sierra-089. During the attack the Elites took out a Brute cruiser carrying a modified power supply for it's planet glassing weapon. The Elites have a remote detonator strapped to it but we need to get within ten yards to start the timer. The whole ship is shielded from outside signals," Patterberg explained. "The timer will be set for thirty minutes elbow room so we can get off the surface. The Elite's ship will be picking you three up. But let me lay this out for you, Spartan, the explosion is going to be huge. It should be well enough to tear the planet apart."
Gary looked to Ilte'. He looked impressed and nodded then turned to assist Linnea.
"Sounds good. All we need is transportation and we'll be set, sir." Gary said as he watched the carnage through the broken cockpit windows.
"237 was towing a warthog when it left the Clair, Spartan. Sorry I can't be more of help. I'm coordinating the retreat at this moment." The radio went dead.

Alright.. Gary thought, we gotta get off this time-bomb before we're space dust. He turned to see Linnea cradling a badly wounded marine, her right leg broken and third degree burns blotting her face. He hardly noticed these when he realized who it was. It was the rookie who'd bumped into him the night before.
"She needs medical treatment soon, Gary. I can't believe she's not in shock yet." Linnea said setting her down and gingerly straightening the marine's shattered leg. Gary looked around for the medical supplies mandatory for every pelican but the containers were empty having lost their contents in the attack. He pulled up the roster on the inner plate of his visor, she was listed as Lance Corporal Ren Church and only held that rank as a sole survivor of a previous mission. Gary listed her as critical, something he'd seen all too often on the battlefield over the years.

"Get her in the hog and spray some biofoam on the burns. We can't do much about her leg until we get back to the Claire for surgery." Gary said.
"I believe I saw a human vehicle buried in the mud over there," Ilte' said gesturing to a large mound not far from the crash site. Gary trotted to the hog, gripped it's exposed rear bumper and began to pull at it. Slowly the vehicle came free with a fat sucking sound. Warthogs could handle anything, even if it was covered in alien mud.
"Everyone in. Linnea you've got the turret, watch our ass. Ilte' you've got shotgun, keep our injured marine safe, got it?" Gary said curtly. Ilte' accepted the order without argument and took the human into his arms like one would a child and squeezed his mass into the passenger seat of the hog. Linnea bounced into the M41 Vulcan turret and powered it up.
"Gun's still hot," Linnea said twisting around to their six. Gary got into the driver seat and fired her up. The engine roared as the liquid hydrogen flowed into it. The green beast was still operating at peak efficiency and they zipped off through the burning forest. The Flood corpses were no where to be seen, not a good sign. Gary pulled the hog through the forest following a NAV marker he'd received from Patterberg.
At only one kilo left the battles around them noticeably dwindled as UNSC and Sangheili forces retreated to their vessels. Sentinels held their fire in an unspoken armistice and returned their attention to the planet.
"Hopefully they got everyone." Linnea said looking at the grim scene.

500.... 350....200 meters. They grew nearer until they finally spotted the downed Brute CCS cruiser. But there was something not right about it. Fat yellow lesions spread across it's hull.
"LOOK OUT!" Ilte' shouted, too late. The nose of the hog dipped down, the tail rose and they were hurled from the vehicle. They were unable to see their assailant but whatever it was, it was a behemoth.

Halo Clairvoyance - Chapter 5
Date: 2 April 2010, 11:39 am

Halo Clairvoyance
Chapter 5

By Gary Cogdill



// 03:25 January 21st, 2555 On board the UNSC Clairvoyance//

"Someone tell me what the hells goin on down there!" Captain Patterberg spat, he tried to calm himself down with a quick sip of his coffee. Staying up wasn't really the best thing to do for a man his age. An image of the Sangheili Fleet Admiral appeared on his personal monitor.

"Captain Patterberg have your spartans given any word on their current situation?" Nira asked, his voice muffled by the planet's magnetic field disrupting some transmissions. Nira seemed agitated the word from his spec ops leader Rtun was that they had all died by the hands of the massive sentinels. But Patterberg knew that was a lie. The Spartans were making their way to finish this fight and he had faith in them, their task could be equaled to that of King Leonidas' 300.

"My Spartans and one of your spec ops are making their way to the brute cruiser." Patterberg answered. Nira's mandibles fidgeted by those words. "I suggest when they're done down there we get away far enough that when the planet implodes we aren't in the line of the fire." Patterberg said as he took another sip of his boiling coffee, something to keep him on his toes and his mouth burnt. The planet had changed, almost as if it had been split into thirds, 1/3 was pitch black and only leaving heavy smoke clouds the following area was in full ablaze, almost blinding to the eye. The remaining part of the planet was still lush and green and hopefully was the area where the spartans were.
Nira nodded and followed by his image on the monitor disappearing. If it was one thing the elites were excellent military experts, 27 years of facing their unstoppable might gave Patterberg's respect for them and nothing could ever make that become a fleeting respect.

So many lives lost, for no good reason.. Patterberg thought, his age had always bothered him, he was a soldier through and through, knowing he cant go down to help his men bothered him, always.
Sounds of incoming wounded reeled through out the Clair. Several crewmen that were attending some hardware in the bridge knew that injured marines always came first so they left to help their brothers.
Try and get me patched into the Spartans" Patterberg said to the bridges comm system manager. The man quickly typed up the codes to the spartans warthog. The signal came in but the sounds that greeted his ears were vicious.

// 03:29 January 21st, 2555 On Forerunner Testing Installation//

The pure form that had toppled their warthog was at least 20 feet tall. Grumbles of anger, sorrow, pain, ferocity, and sickness trickled its carapace. Gary knew this fight would be nearly impossible unless they somehow reached the top of the creature. The tentacles growing out of the monster swung in the air like some sort of bug was irritating it. Strange enough the flood had given the group enough time to recover, somehow Gary had a feeling some sort of intelligence had now formed within the flood on this planet.
Gary distracted the giant as he grabbed his battle rifle and began to fire at the floods face, the bullets shredded flesh but didn't cause any pain for the creature. Another wave of tentacles slashed at the three of them. The image almost seemed like an extreme version of jump rope. Ilte' finally ended the annoying predicament they were set in plunging his sword into the ground. The next swoop of the tentacles were decapitated by the energy sword.

Ilte' growled and took his blade out of the ground. "Spartans leave me here, my place is here to face this monster" he said looking back at Gary. Knowing he couldn't deny the elite his honor Gary gave his friend a thumbs up as they rushed into a breach into the cruiser's hull. The marker for the engine room was soon transferred to a map of the CCS cruiser's layout the UNSC had since the early 2540s.
Both spartans rushed through the maze of halls of the brute ship, signs of flood spreading across the surfaces. Strangely though nothing opposed the two of them. The rending halls quickly turned from the covenant violet into the disgusting flesh yellow the flood had. Gary and Linnea had experienced this sight before several times. The smell was never one to get used to, accompanied with their broken helmets without their filtration system it was nauseating. Gary tried to cover his mouth from releasing his contents onto the floor.
As they passed the prisoner cell rooms of the cruiser they had finally found the ship's crew. Brute bodies were all scattered in each corner of the cell rooms.
"Gathering the bodies to form a gravemind no doubt." Linnea said sounding smug of the scene. She quickly detached a frag grenade from her thigh and activated it, lobbing the grenade into the pile of corpses. The explosion launched limbs, scattering them across the room along with a bath of blood.

"Not even these damn hairy bimbos deserve to fall to the flood." Gary said shaking his head. "Quickly lets get this thing done, we've given the calvary enough time to return home." Linnea said leading the way.

The next room was a collapsed hangar bay, banshees, phantoms and seraphs were all totaled within the hangar. Some brutes were mangled, crushed, and entirely destroyed from the crash. One thing Gary knew was that the worse kind of crash was being in a cruiser, human or covenant would definitely fuck you up. The path that their waypoint system pointed was blocked by severed doors, enormous in size and definitely too heavy for even two spartans to push out of the way.
Linnea quickly scanned the room for some sort of tool or leverage to use to move the debris. She quickly grabbed a shaft that seemed to have been a wing of a banshee. She shoved the wing under the crack of the door and signalled Gary to push as she lifted it.

The door slowly rolled out of the way and then landed with a large bang onto the floor. The room hadn't been touched by the flood as they entered it. Only small whispers came from the dark corners. Gary pointed his rifle at one of these corners. Several grunts quivered in the corner holding each other. They were scared shitless. Linnea giggled knowing they were completely harmless but on the same level were completely useless.
Gary didn't have time to care for these grunts, so he ended their lives firing 12 rounds into the 3 or 4 of them that huddled together. They quickly dropped to the floor with a thud without a noise, their glowing blue blood leaking on the floor. The spartans quickly hustled around the corner to their left meeting several more survivors, jackals who didn't care of the moment and ignited their shields willing to face the spartans.

Gary sprinted towards the leader of the group slamming his body into the orange shield, the jackal's arms broke from the sheer force of the collision. The bird like alien screeched its arms bent like the letter L. The other 2 were greeted by Linnea's big foot to the shields, causing them to stumble, the opening grew, Linnea took the opportunity and pulled out one of her SMGs and fired into the jackals' abdomens. They're bodies didn't take it that well shredding them in half. Gary grabbed the jackal he had injured by the neck.
"I know you understand me birdface, now what I want to know is if there are any more of you bastards in the rooms?" Gary said tightening his squeeze on the fragile neck. The jackal coughed and screeched in panic as its arms were being pressed up against the spartan's clunky armor causing further pain.
"ANSWER ME!" Gary shouted at the jackal. The alien slowly nodded taking what it learned from human language it had learned. Gary tossed the jackal into the wall followed by Linnea stepping on the jackal's neck a crackle noise came from it as the last release of breath came from its mouth. Now having this knowledge of other possible tangos the spartans checked each room, clearing out each room within 10 seconds. Most of the furniture or strange protruding architecture of the covenant had been taken from the rooms to barricade the door they had just got through earlier.

A brute minor stumbled into the spartans as he rounded the corner. Before he could even give out a gasp, his throat was met with a pistol slug, ripping through every inch of him. "Damn we're good" Linnea boastfully said keeping her attention to the mission. Running low on ammo, Linnea took a carbine off the brute's body.
"I think this suits my color, don't you think?" Linnea said comparing the carbine to her armor. Gary chuckled but quickly corrected himself. The Spartans had cleared 30 rooms only meeting dead half eaten grunts and jackals. The brute must've taken control over the lower species and used them as a food source.

They were now only 2 rooms away from the engine room but the flood had found a way to grow in that section of the ship without touching the previous 30. Wall spores were uncannily abundant here. Even the strange flood wall form that had killed 252 Finite Power were also apparent. Gary warned Linnea of them, pointing them out.
"Be careful we have no way of defending ourselves of the corrosive fluid." He said as the finally reached the engine room. The room was enormous, 3 fuel rod pods that were the main power for the engine eating Helium 3 like a marine given one of the chemicals used to enhance spartans.

"So here it is, lets get close enough to start up the damn countdown shall we?" Linnea said waving Gary to throw the tool to start it. Helium 3 extract leaked from the ceiling like rain coating the spartans in a strange light blue substance like grunt blood. Almost making the room seem surreal. Linnea gave a thumbs up signaling Gary the countdown started. She quickly turned around and began to ran.
"We don't got much time, lets get the hell out of here!" she said passing Gary. Gary followed smiling, amused how enthusiastic Linnea was. They now had 29 minutes and counting to get out of the cruiser, reach their warthog and race to the extraction point where a phantom would wait for them and then leave the planet right as it imploded in on itself. No stress at all!
The two ran through the halls of the brute cruiser quicker since they had carved out a path previously. A counter flickered on Gary's broken visor, leaving 23 minutes left. Several carrier forms had entered the cruiser and blocked a hall way. "Damn, pop one and it they go out like dominoes." Gary said pulling out his pistol again. Firing several rounds into the lead carrier form.

It grunted pig like noises as each round entered its bulbous form. Finally it collapsed, beginning to inflate and erupting. The explosion of the lead carrier form launched 4 others as they exploded as well. 200 infection forms flew at the spartans intending to stab their tentacles into the spartans' spines.
Linnea used the rest of the ammo for the carbine. The green rounds ripping through multiple forms. Popping like popcorn, the spartans quickly took the brunt of the remaining infection forms shattering their shields. "Lets just go, ignore everything else!" Gary said as they ran up the ramp the carrier forms were blocking. Finally turning right they reached the hull breach they had entered before. Ilte' was no where in sight along with the gigantic flood. The warthog waited for them nose stuck in the mud.

Gary shoved the warthog out of the mud as he jumped in the driver. Only 12 minutes remained as Linnea climbed up on the gunner seat once more. "Turrets still hot" she acknowledged. Starting the engines up the flood form reappeared now with several torn sheets of skin hanging off of it. "Oh shit not you again!" Gary said looking back at Linnea to start unloading on the creature. She unleashed a barrage of rounds into the monster. But it still did nothing, Gary reared the engine and began to circle the flood form as it became more and more angered by the warthog dancing around it.

The creature collapsed several times but still got up. A gigantic arm sprouted from it side within seconds as fluids spilled out from the regeneration. "Oh now thats just wrong." Gary said keeping his foot on the floor. The arm successfully timed the warthogs next go around and slammed its arm into the dirt in front of the warthog.
The 2 spartans were once again launched from the vehicle. "Shit!" Linnea said crashing into the side of the cruiser.


// 04:35 January 21st, 2555 On Forerunner Testing Installation//

Ilte's battle with the beast bore fatigue to his body. But honor pulsed through every vein on his body, managing to stand up he could hear the spartans fighting the plague over on the other side of the ship. He had come to far to falter at this moment in time.
"No I shall not fail you Nira!" Ilte' roared into the air a burst of life threw Ilte' to his feet once more. He turned Nira's sword on for the first time, it glowed a special green he had never seen any energy sword show. This was his defining moment, he would prove to the gods, to Nira and mostly himself and his bloodline that he was worthy of legend.

He slammed Nira's sword into the brute cruiser. Following his sword into the hull as well and used it as leverage to climb the ship. Each rip in the hull screeched just like the flood. But Ilte' wanted to finish the fight. He flew up the ship with super sangheili speeds. Finally reaching a position where he could grip his feet to the surface he ran across the top to get a good position to see how the spartans were fairing.
He reached the other side soon slanting down to the ground he balanced his feet. There were the spartans trying to climb the beast as it struggled to shake them off. The Spartans were amazing to watch for that split second, firing into the beast at the same time using their weapons as stakes to climb.

Ilte' sprinted to get the right spot to launch himself onto the form. He finally reached his spot.

"DIE FOUL SCOURGE! FOR THE FORERUNNERS!!!!" Ilte' screamed as he leaped onto the flood. Landing on top of the beast thrusting both energy swords into its core. The monster quaked as it roared, screamed, shrieked as it collapsed to the ground.
"Wow, I am grateful Ilte'" the lead spartan said. Ilte' only nodded and pointed to their transport. The spartans agreed and jumped into the warthog.

"How much time do we have?" Ilte' asked looking at the spartan. "We have around 6 minutes left" he said as he reached into a container on the warthog. In his grasps were strange masks with tubes on each side.

"Given the time we have put these atmospheric oxygen masks on." he said, tearing off his green helmet as it tumbled into the mud, to be left behind. The spartans attached the masks on as a hiss of air came from the masks signaling they were working. Ilte' placed the mask on his face, although designed for human skulls it attached itself to him anyways awkwardly bending his mandibles to fit inside.
A similar hiss came from his mask as a rush of oxygen burst into his breath.

"There! The phantom awaits for us!" Ilte' pointed the dropship waited for them at a cliff. The human vehicle gain speed as it rushed towards the cliff. Anxiety spinning with the tires every second. Inside the dropship several sangheili waved them aboard. "When we get there we need to jump out!" Gary said his voice muffled by the mask he wore.
The warthog finally reached the cliff, all three of them planted their feet on their seats as it fell off the cliff. The moment seemed to take forever in a slow motion feel. Ilte' reached the dropship as a fellow brother pulled him up. The 2 spartans didn't get a good enough leap as Ilte' caught the lead spartan's hand while he held the other. The 2 dangled in a chain link type of design.

"We must flee now!" Ilte' shouted as the phantom screamed towards the skies. Ilte' was supported by the other sangheili as he held on to the spartans. They swayed in the air as the phantom tried to steady itself as it cut through the skies at speeds breaking the sound barrier. "FUUUUUCK!" Gary screamed both arms being pulled out of their sockets.
Everything went silent as the cruiser soon was replaced with an enormous explosion growing to engulf almost all of the planet. The sheer shaking of force from the explosion shattered some of the phantom's screens for the pilots and even broke off pieces of the ship. But still Ilte' endured and still held the spartans firmly in his grasp. The planet shattered into thousands of pieces the sound was deafening with foreboding wrenching sound. Rocks crashed into the phantom breaking its balance it had established.

"Brothers help me pull the spartans in!" Ilte' ordered 4 sangheili soon grasped the Spartan's hand and pulled both enormous soldiers. Ilte' collapsed to the floor and breathed a great sigh of relief, as did the spartans.
"My god that was almost too much for us to handle" Linnea joked laughing as she rested on the floor of the dropship. Soon the walls slid into place and blinded them from the view of the destroyed planet. "Alright I think we can take our masks off" Gary said releasing the hatch and taking the mask off. Ilte' and Linnea followed. "Spartans.... it was an honor to fight at the mighty humans' best and most honored soldiers." Ilte' bowed.

"Yeah it was great huh?" Linnea gaffed.

// 05:59 January 21st, 2555 On board the Thoughtless Resolve//

Nira greeted the phantom dropship personally with zealot guards at his side. The door shifted and opened. The human spartans were the first to exit. Nira saluted the warriors pounding his fist to his chest. Then followed the sangheili brothers who were already in the dropship when they picked the 3 of them up. Finally Ilte' Arcod exited the dropship. Covered in scars and armor stained with every substance the planet stored.
"My my it appears my blade did bring you luck" Nira said saluting Ilte'. Without hesitation Ilte' bowed down before Nira once more. "No no young one, I shall kneel before you, your honor is legendary in my eyes." Nira said as he knelt before Ilte' taking off his helmet. "Honor him my brothers, kneel before a living legend." the other sangheili in the room followed and knelt to Ilte'.

"I can see this is a very personal moment let us leave the room." Linnea said chilishly sneaking out of the room. Nira stood up and faced the spartans. "Lest not forget about the reclaimers." Nira said looking at the spartans, for the first time without their helmet on. They looked like any other human just covered in more scars from so many fights.

"Thank you, Fleet Admiral" Gary said giving the Nira the human salute. Linnea followed and saluted as well.

"You have proven human strength, tenacity, spirit and honor, it rivals that of our own species'" Nira continued. "I will give my word and support an alliance between our two races." He said taking markers off of his desk. "I give you the sangheili marks of honor, dignity and respect" Nira marked the spartan's armor chest plate with the symbols.
"I also thank you for ending the foul plague on that planet, although losing valuable religious artifacts." Nira said turning to other sangheili to see their reaction. No one showed anger only envy and respect towards the humans.

"We will return you to Patterberg soon, but you are welcome in the ship." Nira definitely wanted to say the Thoughtless Resolve was the first Sangheili ship to allow humans to stay without fixed laws and such. Maybe in the future sangheili children would be told stories of how The Thoughtless Resolve was the flagship of combining the forces of the humans, descendants of the holy forerunners and the Sangheili.

"If you don't mind we'll stay here in the control room until the Clairvoyance arrives." Gary said. Nira didn't mind and nodded. Returned to congratulating the sangheili warriors who fought on the planet.


// 06:51 January 21st, 2555 On board the Thoughtless Resolve docked with UNSC Clairvoyance//

Ren awoke in the medbay, she felt sore everywhere. Her leg was in a cast with several layers of biofoam healing it. She tried to remember what happened on the planet, but the stuff the doctors put in her made her mind dizzy and she couldn't think straight.

Several doctors and medics walked through the medbay with clipboards writing things down on each patient. A female medic came over to Ren's bed and began to write down on her pad. She must have been reading something off of a data file since Ren couldn't see anything she could write about around her.

"How long have I been out?" Ren groggily asked. The medic only looked at her and showed 4 fingers. "4 hours?" the medic nodded and walked off. The only image Ren could remember was the night before walking into the spartan. This sparked worries that the spartans didn't make it or were still on the planet. She tried to get out of bed but she was tucked in so tight it was almost impossible to move an inch.

A familiar voice was at her side, "So from what I see, you didn't see that much combat did ya Church?" said the voice. She turned to see it was the ODST Askerson from the night before in the armory. "What did you in?" Ren asked.

"Oh damn spiker round went right into my chest, it was 2 inches to the right of my heart and didn't hit my lungs." He said "I'm damn lucky" Ren thought the same. "What happened?" Ren asked another question. " Damn spartans we came to love so much last night blew up the entire planet, so much for a stealthy mission huh?" Askerson laughed only followed by a whooping cough he gained from the spike.
Ren smiled, she was glad the spartans made it out alive, the stories her family told seemed to be totally true. The spartans almost seemed omnipotent now to her.

"So what happened to you Church?" asked Askerson. Ren shrugged she didn't know all she knew was her right leg ached like a sunuva bitch.
"Her pelican she was on was shot down before even fighting, she was the lone survivor." a man's voice said.

"Looks like you got fans Corporal" the medic said letting in the guest. It was the spartan, out of armor in full regalia, white uniform covered in medals and ribbons. Gary took off his hat and walked over to Ren. Still extremely tall the spartan had to hunch over a bit to fit into the medbay.

"Just came in to check up on ya rook." Gary said. "Wow its an honor sir to meet you again and in different circumstances."Smiled Ren. She finally got her right arm free only to notice it too was wrapped up, her feelings must have came back as she felt her face as well was covered. "I'am burnt?" Ren asked tears welling up from the thought of what she looked like.

"Don't worry its nothing some advanced biofoam can't fix." Gary said finally kneeling down to her level. He grabbed something out of his pocket it was a shell casing. "Here I want you to have this souvenir" Gary said placing the casing on the bed in her lap.
"What is it?" Ren asked, knowing it was a casing but why? Gary got up again and placed his hat back on. "It was a casing from one of my battle rifle rounds that I shot to kill a brute chieftain. It ain't his helmet but at least its something to keep you to remember me by." Gary said saluting and then finally leaving the medbay.

Ren sighed, for some reason she felt accomplished with the mission, she felt she had done something important even though she never saw combat and her entire squad was killed. Maybe the fact she may had earned several friends out of the entire debacle was more accomplishing then fighting itself.

Whatever she felt, it almost felt like she was clairvoyant about things to come, most felt very positive, somewhat like what she felt right when Gary walked by her when she was looking out the window yesterday. Others felt dark, a lingering evil seemed present everywhere, something angry and wanting to be released. Something that could grow quickly and destroy the premonitions of good.

Ren was ready to take it on though, and this time she wouldn't fail at the fighting part this time. Along side the spartans, she felt secure and safe. Spartans were the example of undying faith and joy the UNSC needed and still needs in the future to face those unknown evils that lurked within the universe.

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