Twenty-Four: Floodgate

The portal generator looked like a strange city, lit up by the energy streams flowing up out of the core and along the machinery that made up the generator, the power sustaining the deep navy portal above the remains of Kenya's devastated landscape. Faint streams of blue energy were being emitted from the fourteen "arms" stretching skyward, sinking into the portal and giving its edges a wispy look as they maintained the hard light boundary.

"The Flood," Miranda said worriedly, "It's spreading all over the city." The Spartans, Forerunners, and Arbiter were already moving towards the devastated city, sprinting down the slope away from the remains of the gun and pounding back onto the asphalt.

"How do we contain it?" Lord Hood asked.

"Find the crashed Flood ship. Overload its engine core," she advised, "We either destroy this city, or risk losing the entire planet."

Lord Hood didn't even hesitate to give the order. "Do it."

"Senior Chief, make your way to the crash site."

Blue, Red, and Gray Teams tensed when a handful of combat forms leapt overhead, but the Forerunners ignored them in favor of darting around the Spartans and moving further into the city. "All squads, report!" Sergeant Reynolds suddenly barked over the COM.

"Multiple contacts, unknown hostiles." It abruptly hit the group that the vast majority of the UNSC had no idea how to fight the Flood, and they picked up their pace, wanting to get to the unprepared Marines before the Flood did. "There, over there! We're surrounded, Sergeant!"

They rounded a corner and came upon a squad of Marines just outside of the door leading into the Traxus warehouse, but as they got closer, a score of Infection pods fell from above, along with a handful of already-claimed combat forms, the Gravemind seeking the Marines for its own, as well. Thanks to the quick thinking of the Forerunners, all but one of the humans escaped infection, and the extra guns were very much welcome when they took on the combat forms that awaited them.

'Ta'Ron-'

[For the love of - I AM NOT THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD!]

'Yet.' Kenera interjected as their group took the time to reload their human weapons before ducking inside the warehouse.

[Goddesses, I hope the day never comes. What is it?]

'Has the Darkest Hour already gone through the portal?'

[Yes, they're inside the docking station on the north arm.]

'...which way is north again?' Venera ducked the swat of the combat form made from the Marine that had been previously chased by Infection pods, and viciously slammed the butt of her rifle into the place where the pod protruded from the corpse's torso, popping it under the incredible force.

[The Core-Cartographer line marks 'north.' Status?]

'Right. We're on the move, heading back into Voi to retrieve Cortana's message-'

[Provided it's there.]

'-Don't be such a pessimist, sir. Nothing's gone SNAFU yet, so I assume we're in the clear.' Venera and her twin darted out of the way as Fred hurled a grenade at the mob of combat forms on the floor below; it bounced once and exploded, blowing the majority of the combat forms and Infection pods to hell and saving the lives of several Marines in the process. The squad had been split up by the Flood, and though a handful had been lost fighting the parasite, they were happy to be reunited.

[The operative word being 'yet.'] He sighed over the mental connection. [I'll be waiting for you on the Shadow of Intent.]

'Affirmative, sir.' The Infected chose to leap over the warehouse's section partition rather than go around like the Spartans, Marines, and Arbiter would have to, and they alighted easily atop the stacked shipping containers all over that part of the room, promptly leaping over the next partition and charging into battle against the Flood that awaited them.

"How do you do that?!" Alice demanded as the ground-pounders finally caught up with the Infected, only to find them sitting atop a pile of corpses, cleaning their weapons.

"Do what?"

"Jump fifty feet in the air! I've seen the Flood make some pretty good leaps, but more in the ten to twenty-five range!"

"Our armored suits are custom-built Class 42 Combat Skins, designed and built specifically for our use," Dacien replied, "It enhances our natural abilities to the point where, if we put all of our effort behind it, we could punch through six feet of steel in one go. 'Course, we didn't think Traxus would appreciate that when they're doing clean up." He jumped down from the pile and headed toward a slightly-concealed set of stairs, the other Infected following close behind.

"What does that make our MJOLNIR on your scale?"

"Class 2, maybe 3."

"You mean to tell me that your armor is between fourteen and twenty-one times as powerful as ours."

"Perhaps. There's a lot more to account for than just the strength of the plating and shields." The Forerunners chose to break the glass off to their right once they had entered the brightly lit room and leapt through the opening rather than drop down through the floor, the Spartans following them out. Just as they impacted on the lower level, their armor's systems began to lag again, slowing them down as Cortana's copy whispered, " Chief! I can't tell you everything; it's not safe. The Gravemind - it knows I'm..." but it trailed off and died away before it could finish. "I'll send you all of the qualifications later," Dacien finished, tossing a frag grenade that he'd stolen from Kelly between the partition and the ceiling in the next room.

The combat forms beyond screamed and died as the grenade exploded, enabling them to move around the corner and gun down the remainder before moving on with the now-amazed humans. They could hear a terrified Marine talking in the next room, and Venera knelt next to him. "I...I didn't have a choice...!" he gasped, rocking back and forth, occasionally lifting a pistol to his temple before the Forerunner gently took it from him, "The L-T...the Sergeant...they were all infected! I could see it crawling...sliding around beneath their skin!" The twin pulled the traumatized human into a hug, and he clutched at her for comfort. "A-and then they got up...they s-started to talk! Oh, God! Their voices! Oh, God! No, make them stop! I did them a favor...y-yeah that's it; I helped them! (sobs) Maybe...maybe I need to help myself..."

Venera looked up and shook her head, waving them on and calling for Etra to teleport her and the psyche ward's latest patient onto the Perfect Storm. The bright golden rings rippled around them, the pair disappearing a moment later, and the group continued out onto the boardwalk just as a CCS-class battle cruiser roared overhead.

"Hail, humans, and take heed," Shipmaster Rtas 'Vadum called over the COM as orbital drop pods thudded into the ground, their covers bursting outward to release the Sangheili amongst the Flood, "This is the carrier, Shadow of Intent. Clear this sector, while we deal with the Flood."

The Spartans and Forerunners quickly moved to support the Sangheili against the alien parasite, jumping down to the lakebed and blowing a handful of combat forms to bits as they landed. The Sangheili seemed not to realize who the Forerunners were, and humanity's ancestors seemed to want to keep it that way for the moment, so they said nothing; the Arbiter, however, stepped forward. "My brothers, I fear you bring bad news."

"High Charity has fallen," the Major Domo replied sadly, "become a dreaded hive."

"And the fleet?" the Arbiter asked as the Forerunners moved forward with the Minor Domos to block off the area to the Flood, "Has quarantine been broken?"

"A single ship broke through our line, and we gave chase."

"But we have a fleet of hundreds!"

'Not a very reassuring thought, when the remainder of our fleets number in the tens,' Fred thought as he and the rest of Blue Team took potshots at the Flood streaking in their direction.

"Alas, brother," the Major stated, shaking his head, "the Flood - it has evolved!" He hefted his weapon as Venera reappeared, the Elites taking a good look at the Forerunner for the very first time, and she glanced at them before bounding forward to reinforce her brothers- and sisters-in-arms.

"How is he?" Kelly called over their gunfire, aiming for the combat forms that leapt up to meet them in their advance.

"He should be alright," Venera replied, picking up a plasma sword and dexterously slicing a pair of combat forms to bits, "Our best and brightest are looking after him; he was sleeping when I left." She shut the sword off and swapped it for the suppressor over her back, kicking one of the combat forms off the cliff edge as she moved up next to her twin.

"Good."

"What's the probability that he'll recover?" one of the Marines still tailing them asked, looking concerned.

"Almost 75 percent, I think. He was just diagnosed with PTSD, and we have a couple of methods of treating that, all very likely to succeed. We ourselves use them quite regularly."

"Mm." The warriors pounded up the slope and into a melee of Brute and human combat forms, fighting for their lives, and Kenera paused at the door into the transport tunnel, fiddling with something small with her twin covering her back. Finally, the Arbiter beat down the last of the combat forms and stamped on it to crush the Infection pod in its chest, and they moved over to where Venera was wrestling with a small sphere.

"Care to explain?"

"It's a Resonator," she growled, finally seeming to get it the way she wanted after much struggling, and pulled out a pair of earplugs, "an experimental form of a full size one. It releases a sound wave at such a high intensity that should be enough to pop the Infection Pods, even the ones inside the combat forms. Here's hoping it works. You might want to back away." The humans and Sangheili began doing so.

"Wait," Kelly said suddenly, reaching out and grabbing her wrist, "what about you?"

"We are not 'infected' like they are; the Commander personally injected the majority of us with his Flood DNA. In the rest of the cases, we have already integrated our pods, so either way, we're good." She gave them a sharp-edged grin, then charged around the corner, throwing the Resonator at the enemy Flood. She darted back out of the warehouse and crouched down with her hands over her ears. Even with their earplugs and other sound dampeners and the wall between them and the device, the sound hit them like a ton of bricks. Some of the Sangheili staggered, a few of the Marines fell over.

When they entered the warehouse an beheld all the dead enemy Flood, Jai said, "I think I'm in love," in a deadpan tone, shoulders slumping in relief. Then he cocked his head, "I'm also out of ammo, give me a second."

The other Spartans followed his example, rooting through the corpses for extra ammunition as Venera and the other Infected stowed their earplugs. "Unfortunately, this little thing isn't large enough to be powered by a micro reactor. It runs on battery power." She shook it gently, checking to see if any parts had been damaged by the sound waves before placing it back inside a pouch on her hip.

As fast as they possibly could, the allies moved on from there, out into the open air at the crash site. The ship had plowed into the ground and broken open, caught on fire, spewing Flood spores and thick black billows of smoke into Earth's atmosphere. Miranda chose that moment to come over the line. "Spartans, the Elites are looking for something. We didn't believe them when they told us."

"It's Cortana, Chief; she's on that ship!" Johnson growled, "Find her, get her out!"

Immediately, the Spartans began to hustle, gunning down any combat forms that headed their way. They shot straight for the spots where the Infection pods protruded from the host's torso, seeking to eliminate their parasitic foes as fast as they possibly could. As they moved around shipping containers strewn all over the place, they came across a new form of Flood, a sort-of spider like being that lunged at them and knocked Fred's shields down in one blow.

Venera tackled it, snarling, and literally ripped it in half, making everyone visibly take a step back - except for the other Infected, who were used to such displays of protectiveness bordering on possessiveness. The lot of them took cover behind two large shipping containers and peered around at the wreckage as a vibrant green Phantom dropped off some Elite reinforcements.

There were more of the Stalker forms prowling around, along with some large beings with essentially fleshy spikes for arms; the Forerunners called them "Tank" forms. One of the Stalker forms jumped up onto the wall nearby and began to mutate, making all of the "newcomers" to the Flood War raise an eyebrow; Thenma grabbed a plasma grenade from Zadok's hip, ignited it, and hurled it at the now-Ranged form before it could start firing at them. It exploded and sent the Pure form crashing to the ground; the Forerunners quickly hustled them on past the body, aiming for a large rent in the side of the ship.

"Hurry, Demons!" the Sangheili Major with them called as more Flood charged forward to kill them, "We seek the same prize. But our Shipmaster will sacrifice all to stop the Flood." He drew his plasma sword to cut down a Tank form lumbering in his direction. There were Pure forms mutating all over the place, mostly into Tank and Ranged forms, which promptly attacked the group of allies as they fought their way through wave upon wave of walking corpses.

All three teams thundered up the slope leading to the rent in the ship, but only Blue Team continued on in. "We'll stay here," Douglas-042 said firmly, dropping to one knee next to the opening and sweeping the area with his assault rifle, "let nothing pass."

The four Spartans going in hesitated on the edge, preparing to jump but trying to see the safest route in. Linda finally dropped through the opening, falling from ledge to ledge until she reached the bottom, and the other three followed her lead, finally landing in Flood muck and trudging forward around a pillar of Flood flesh. Scant seconds later, their HUDs began to darken, their armor lagging yet again, but this time a terrible voice whispered in their ears and in their minds, "Do not be afraid. I am peace... I am salvation..."

"It's not here," Kenera said over the radio, "Just keep going."

Fred flashed an affirmative at her and continued forward, passing a handful of dead SpecOps Elites before dropping through another opening onto a short stretch of bulkhead uncovered by the Flood flesh growing on the walls. They splashed through a pool of opaque white liquid and moved through another short tunnel into an open space. A console dominated the center of the room, an AI housing resting on top of it.

They advanced toward it, but once again, the Gravemind began speaking to them. "I am a timeless chorus. Join your voice with mine and sing victory everlasting!"

Fred lost patience and leapt up onto the console itself, activating the housing. With a slight hiss, Cortana's hologram appeared over it and said, "Chief!"

"Cortana?"

"High Charity, the Prophet's holy city, is on its way -" Her hologram suddenly flickered and vanished, and the hum of a Phantom overhead pulled their attention away from the AI. Much to their surprise, 343 Guilty Spark floated down out of the Phantom.

"Reclaimers," he said as the Spartans aimed at the Monitor, before he blasted a combat form that had been sneaking up on them from behind. "I must act quickly, before your construct suffers any further trauma!" He picked up the portable housing with some kind of tractor beam before Fred grabbed him by the cowlings, pulling the device out of reach.

"Wait," he growled, "Leave her alone."

"If we do not take this device to a safe location, somewhere I can make repairs," Spark said, once again activating his tractor beam to grab a hold of the housing, but Fred broke the connection again.

"On Halo," he snapped, "You tried to kill Cortana. You tried to kill us." He released the Monitor but held the housing out of reach just the same.

"Protocol dictated my response!" the Monitor insisted, "She had the activation Index, and you were trying to destroy my Installation. You did destroy my Installation. Now I have only one function: to help you, Reclaimers, as I always should have done." He sounded truly remorseful, so Fred reluctantly held out the housing. Spark took it and ascended upwards into the Phantom, the transport's grav beam picked up the Spartans one by one. All of the other teams in the area were picked up by other Phantoms and swiftly got well out of the glassing zone, the thick beams of plasma from the cruisers vitrifying the surface immediately and making it red hot even as the ruins of the Flood-controlled carrier spewed spores and smoke into the skies.

"Will it live, Oracle?" Shipmaster Rtas 'Vadum asked the Monitor as he tried to do delicate repairs and interfacing with his tractor beam, "Can it be saved?"

"Uncertain," Spark replied honestly, "This storage device has suffered considerable trauma. Its matrices are - highly unstable."

"Perhaps one of our technicians - " Lord Hood began, taking a step forward, but Rtas cut him off with a "That will not be necessary."

Right then, the storage device appeared to have reached a point where it was functional enough to resume playback, which it promptly did. Cortana's hologram appeared over the container once again; "Chief!"

"Success!" Spark was clearly proud of himself.

"High Charity, the Prophet's holy city," she said again,"is on its way to Earth - with an army of Flood." The recording instantly had the complete and undivided attention of every sentient being in the room. "I can't tell you everything; it's not safe. The Gravemind - it knows I'm in the system." The recording began to skip, the damage its container had sustained interrupting the playback.

For a brief instant, the collective gazes of everyone in the "War Room" flicked to the hazy figure flanked by his Infected before moving to Fred, who stated, "It's just a message."

When it looked like Rtas was not going to say anything against that, John spoke up. "Let it play."

Spark jolted it again, and the recording resumed: "But it doesn't know about the portal, where it leads. On the other side, there's a solution, a way to stop the Flood without firing the remaining Halo rings." She gasped and cried out in pain, collapsing to the "ground," and all but the Infected missed the way John jerked forward as if to reach out, to protect her. The hologram appeared to take a moment to collect itself before moving into a semi-upright position, touching its head for an instant. "Hurry, Chief... The Ark - there isn't much time." The playback began to skip again, but it was clear that the message was finished.

"I'm... sorry," the Monitor said to the group.

"No matter, Oracle," Rtas said quietly, "we've heard enough." Then, louder, "Our fight is through the portal, with the Brutes and the bastard Truth!" The other Sangheili in the War Room roared their approval of the Shipmaster's statement.

"Fine," Hood said in a subdued tone of voice, as if he was resigning himself to being consumed, "we'll remain here. Hold out as long as we can."

"Did you not hear?" the Shipmaster asked, "Your world is doomed." A swift tap of a control enabled him to descend from his throne, and he clenched a fist. "A Flood army, a Gravemind-" Once again, John ignored the people staring at him with practiced ease, "-has you in its sights. You can barely survive a small contamination."

"And you, Shipmaster, just glassed half a continent!" Hood shot back, "Maybe the Flood isn't all I should be worried about."

"One single Flood spore-"

"Would you all stop staring at me?"

"-can destroy a species. Were it not for the Arbiter's consul, I would have glassed your entire planet!"

Lord Hood was ready to snap back a reply when Miranda laid a hand on his arm. "Sir, with respect, Cortana has a solution - one that I assume exists." She glanced at the Gravemind for confirmation.

"It does."

"Even so, did you see her condition? How damaged she is? This 'solution' could be a Flood trap!"

"We should go through the portal," Miranda insisted firmly, "find out for sure."

"What we should do, Commander," Hood said, laying a hand on her shoulder, "is understand, clearly, that this is humanity's final stand. Here, at Earth. We go, we risk everything, every last man, woman, and child. If we stand our ground, we might just have a chance."

When it looked like the Arbiter was not going to speak, John snorted, making everyone look at him oddly. He turned his head slightly to look at the Spartans, saying, "Do you remember what my Infected told you about my abilities?"

"You mean about your - what was it? 'Predictive resonance?'"

"Indeed. That is why I know that High Charity is not coming here. It's going to the Ark, and heaven help you if the Flood gets there and spreads unchecked; even the Halos won't be able to save you." The Dark Spartan shook his head slightly. "The Halos can both be fired and permanently deactivated from the Ark – that's why Truth wanted to get there so badly. If the enemy Flood takes control of the Ark and then comes back here… I don't know about you, but I'm going. And I'll be leaving about forty thousand infected Forerunners here to help out if something does happen; that way you can get a hold of us quickly."

The Fleet Admiral blinked, then waved them all on, saying, "Then by all means. I'll lend you the Dawn, Commander. What about the Spartans?"

"That depends. Do you want us back in five months or five days?"

"The 'days' is preferable."

"Then they should come with us. All of them."

"A- You won't need all seventy-five of them!"

"That you know. Let's see here... we've got Truth and his minions, the enemy Gravemind and his, and the Ark's defense systems. When you're up against all of that, it's always a good idea to have more firepower than necessary. They're your first line of defense against Earth's foes, and the Ark is about to become the first line of battle in the Second Human-Flood War. They should come to help fight. And the three Forerunner ships that my Infected are on board will be remaining behind, too."

Hood waved in the general direction of the Spartans. "Prepare for deployment to the Ark. Have fun."

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

John decloaked the Perfect Storm at the very edge of the portal, watching through the eyes of his various sycophantic followers as the Sangheili ships and the Forward Unto Dawn were prepared for battle. He moved silently, restlessly about the bridge of his ship, waiting for the all clear to head on through.

A hundred thousand years of waiting, and it was almost over. The Halo Campaign - they were almost there.

"Parasite," Rtas crackled over the COM, making him raise an eyebrow.

"Receiving," he said absently, scratching the throat of his Dragon-horse as it trailed along behind him in his pacing.

"We are ready to depart."

"Then let's get moving."

**********

(Why) looking but never seeing.

(Why) searching but never finding.

(Why) for the kiss to bring his

cold dead heart back to life.

- "The Last Cowboy," In This Moment (A Star-Crossed Wasteland)