Seventeen: Covenant Dance

"I didn't want to react inappropriately in front of Captain Lasky and the others, but really? A tail?"

"Indeed."

"A tail?"

"I'm not exactly thrilled about it either, Admiral. It keeps curling over my feet when I stand still for any length of time and trips me up."

Hood glanced down in time to see the extra appendage do exactly that. John appeared not to notice, instead focusing on the battle simulation taking place in the holodeck before them. A number of the S-IVs had come aboard the Enterprise to meet the S-IIs, and some people made noises about "testing themselves against the older generation," resulting in the current state of affairs. Namely, the S-IVs were getting their asses thoroughly kicked.

"These – wing-things – aren't exactly easy to deal with either," the Spartan Gravemind went on, "They're too sensitive to damage and they're throwing my balance off. The spines I can deal with – they're lighter and can be compressed without too much discomfort, which is what I did in the Parallel, but the wings and tail I'm going to have removed before we engage the Flood. Too risky."

"More trouble than it's worth."

"Exactly." John raised an eyebrow as an S-IV integrated hologram dissolved right in front of them after getting blasted with a Scattershot.

Hood pursed his lips. "They're going to need more training."

The Chief glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, keeping his eyebrow raised. "You asking?"

"Whatever ONI did with you obviously worked," the admiral answered, "I hate to say it like this, but I can't think of another way – we don't make Spartans like we used to. It's for the best that we don't repeat the dubious ethicality of the original program, but we still need the same results."

John inhaled through his nose and let it out the same way. "I'm reluctant to send any of my Infected anywhere ONI could have access to them, especially the other Spartans. In the Parallel, I saw the things they did. The kind of projects and missions they sanctioned. I had to stand by and watch as my own half-brother was taken, and all the others, because I knew humanity needed us… but that didn't make it any easier." He furrowed his brow, then relaxed again. "I could move the Enterprise to Sol System orbit and just add to their training as you send them to us, but I imagine people wouldn't take kindly to that, especially after what happened over New Phoenix."

"You'd leave the Enterprise stationary?"

"It takes a lot to move her in the first place," he answered, "Forerunner ships 'outrace their own realities,' in the words of the Librarian, and it takes time to reconcile that kind of 'Slipspace debt,' as the Forerunners call it. The kind of 'debt' that it takes to move a ship this size any substantial distance through Slipspace is very 'expensive.' She's unique in that she reconciles before she jumps, enabling her to come out of Slipspace and be ready to engage right away, but it's easier to just keep her in one place and have the rest of the fleet use her as a resupply station, a home base that's closer than the Greater Ark.

"That's our plan for when we go to speak to the rest of the Covenant, by the way."

"You're leaving me here?"

Cortana materialized in the observation deck with her hands on her hips.

"Wouldn't dream of it," John replied, "The ship will stay, but you're welcome to come along if you want. If something happens, you can use the Domain to get back right away." He gave her a small mischievous look. "Gotta keep you out of trouble somehow."

"Me? Trouble? You're more likely to get in trouble than me. All those gunfights and alien abductions and parasitic lifeforms…"

"The Warden."

"That was one time! You've blown up – what is it, three Halo rings now?! And been abducted by aliens and turned into a Gravemind?" The AI crossed her arms, but she was grinning and so was he.

"The first one was on your orders, Cortana, and Delta Halo wasn't blown up, just glassed."

Admiral Hood was smiling, too. 'It's good that they've been reunited,' he thought, watching them interact with such ease, 'They're better when they're together.'

Then John turned to walk toward the control panel for the simulation environment and tripped over his tail, making Cortana start giggling.

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

The admiral returned to Earth with the Chief's counteroffer and the documentation of the P'Vort's approach. The rest of HIGHCOM accepted both with reluctance, contingent on actual negotiations provided they survived the impending invasion. They also made the decision not to alert the UEG unless they were unable to stop the enemy fleet from arriving in the Milky Way.

The Enterprise left Genesis for what remained of Reach in early November 2558, the rest of the fleet docked within. The Infinity had other missions to take care of, but when the Forerunners and the Infected actually started going out to meet the leaders of the former Covenant's respective races and clans, humanity sent their own representatives as well.

"Why're we on guard duty?"

"Because the universe hates you, Buck."

Locke sighed heavily and snapped off his comm as Buck and Vale started going at it again. In combat they worked well together, even great, but during idle time, they grated on one another.

Patrol on the Unggoy home world of Balaho could hardly be called "idle time," but almost all of the little aliens were terrified of the "Demons." All the Spartans really needed to do were stand around and look menacing to deter any would-be rebels while the Forerunners and the Infected worked to persuade the leaders of the Unggoy that it would be in their best interest to work with them against the Flood. Though cowardly, the little aliens were not unintelligent, and their sheer numbers would be an asset.

An added incentive for them to cooperate would be the Forerunners' offer to adjust their planet to be able to properly support the Unggoy race, provided they kept an eye on their breeding habits.

"Intra-team friction becoming a bit much, Spartan Locke?"

The S-IV flinched at the sudden voice in his ear, making a few small Unggoy who'd been creeping closer to him jump up and run away. "Indeed, Master Chief," he replied, glancing toward the ships overhead. The hybrid was on his way to Sanghelios instead, claiming that they wanted to ally with the little aliens, not terrify them to death. The presence of the Demon on Balaho or even nearby would do more harm than good. He and a few other S-II teams were remotely observing the S-IVs in a battle simulation and giving critiques. "How's it going up there?"

"Better than expected, though it likely will disappoint you to hear that we didn't expect very much."

"Low expectations leads to pleasant surprises or a lack of disappointment."

"Indeed. Both Fireteam Crimson and Fireteam Osiris still have the highest scores, though the others have shown improvement."

"Do you think they'll be ready by the time the Flood arrives?"

"Most of them, yes. The main problem seems to be that they are still acting like Marines when they should be Spartans. I've threatened to lower their starting ammo count in their next simulations by however much they waste on enemies who are already dead."

Locke couldn't stop himself from snorting at that. He'd noticed the same problem; the S-IVs and Marines alike had a bad habit of shooting up the corpses of fallen foes after they had already perished. "How many times have you done it so far?"

"Four," was the amused reply, "I think the rest of them learned their lesson after Corporal Thomas started a simulation without any ammo at all. Or at least they took the threat seriously."

"Ooh. That's harsh."

"They need to learn. All quiet down on Balaho?"

"So far." Locke signaled to Tanaka that he was going to do a quick loop around the hall where the talks were taking place. "No one's tried to kill us yet. Half the others don't even have their weapons loaded."

The other Spartan made a low noise over the channel. "Another lesson to teach, how delightful."

"Really? You'd have your guns all loaded even surrounded by this lot?"

"Always, Spartan Locke. One never knows when one will be engaged in battle. It's really an old habit left over from our boot camp days, but still – it pays to be prepared."

"You were children," he protested, scaring off a few vandals when he came around a corner.

"We were soldiers," was the reply, "and we don't resent it being done so much as we resent it being necessary. Is it really that hard for our species to keep it together?"

"Questionable decisions were made on all sides. We're just going to have to move forward."

"I can agreed to that, but if I see one more alert about Venezia talking shit cross my news feed…"

"What did they do this time?"

"A civilian trade ship was passing through the area, and they took potshots at it. Wasn't even UNSC or anything. It got away before they could shoot it down, but the captain's filed a complaint, another one of many in the long list against them."

"I've heard rumors that ONI's planning a raid through some of my old contacts, but if it's real, it's probably going on hold because of the Flood."

The Chief huffed. "I'm not looking forward to trying to bring them onboard with this. They probably don't give a shit. They'd be glad to see the UNSC get toppled."

"I was unaware that was part of the plan."

"We've got to at least try."

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

"Spartan."

"Arbiter."

The Sangheili stepped forward and greeted the other soldier as he would another Sangheili, a firm embrace and an honorific in his native tongue, which the Chief returned. "Where is your construct?"

"Right here." Cortana stepped out of the group of Forerunners who had come down with the Spartan. She had decided to return to the flesh form John made for her in the Parallel, which the Infected had kept in cold storage.

"I see Spartan Locke was successful in his hunt for you, then," the Sangheili said, leading the way into Vadam Keep. It was a castle of impressive size carved deep into Kolaar Mountain, full with the Arbiter's relatives and friends and visitors from all around, come to see the Demons and the Forerunners who came with them. Though the Covenant no longer held sway over them, many Sangheili still revered and admired the Forerunners. Seeing them together with the Spartans would help assuage the doubts of at least some.

"Indeed," the Chief answered. Then, "Impressive."

They had arrived in the main meeting hall, where the kaidon – in this case, the Arbiter – and his councilors met to decide the fate of the Vadam State, and now likely the whole of Sanghelios. The walls of the hall were carved with part of the Vadam Saga, which told the stories of famous past kaidons and their deeds.

Ordinarily, the hall was empty during meetings of kaidon and councilors, but today it was standing room only, with scores of other kaidons and some of their councilors speaking amongst themselves. Many of them quieted upon seeing the Demon himself, helm plates retracted and flanked by a Forerunner honor guard – both sets of Twins, in this case, on their very best behavior. Nep'Thalia was also with him, but more had chosen to remain outside and socialize with the other Sangheili.

[Oh, shit, I have to talk in front of people.]

'HA!'

[Quiet.]

"This is the Demon," the Arbiter said simply to the assembled kaidons, "I am told he brings important news."

"Bad news, unfortunately," John added when he was given the signal to speak, mentally flipping through all of his talking points, "Before I begin, some background – before the firing of the Halo Array millennia ago, before the Forerunners built their empire, a race of beings known as the Precursors ruled the galaxy. As far as we know, they created all races we know of today – or in the very least, accelerated our evolution. Yet they mandated that the Forerunners were to be destroyed to make way for their heirs, and so the Forerunners rose up and destroyed them instead, almost to a one."

More murmurs were rolling through the crowd, but they exploded into outright shouts at that until the Arbiter shouted for silence. "Let the Demon speak!" he bellowed, "Then you may say all you wish!"

"Thank you. According to the few records surviving from that time, the last survivors fled, and through still unknown means reduced themselves to a powder through which they might have someday been revived. But over time, it became degraded, twisted and monstrous, and when it returned to the Milky Way, it no longer sought to shepherd life to higher levels of evolution. Instead, it seeks to enslave life, destroy it.

"We now call this remnant the Flood."

Absolute silence filled the hall. The Sangheili's mingled shock and horror was so strong that John could feel it without even actively trying. "Humanity of old was a space-faring race before the firing of the Halo Array," he continued, "and first encountered the Flood as this powder. Initially, it seemed beneficial – it made our pets more docile, some of our crops more fertile… but then it began to change. Turned malignant and destructive, and it spread quickly. Though we pushed the Flood back for a time, resulting in its temporary flight from this galaxy, in many places, we had been forced to resort to a policy we refer to as 'scorched earth' – nothing left behind for the enemy to take. That left entire systems beyond our power to recover, so we sought new worlds from which to fight back.

"That pushed us into conflict with the Forerunners.

"We fought, and lost. They reduced us to little more than animals, not realizing that we hadn't been expanding." His gaze flicked from face to face in the crowd of kaidons. "We were running. Weakened from their war with us, they were no match for the Flood when some of it returned.

"But the rest of it went further. Some Precursors had survived in their own forms, but just as they manipulated the Flood, it manipulated them. They are now a slaver race called the P'Vort, with some thirty-odd other races under their rule as the agents of the Flood.

"And now, it's coming back. The Flood is returning." With the flick of a thought, he pulled up the video loop that the Infected had taken, as well as the accompanying data – ship numbers, estimated population maps based on estimated size, weapons specs and materials, information from their few battles against them in the Parallel – and projected it before the kaidons. "Your people are skilled and brave warriors. I have come," he continued as they looked the information over in silence, "to ask for your help. I will beg for it, if need be, but none of us can hope to survive this coming onslaught alone."

The Arbiter sank down into his seat at the head of the table, and let out a heavy sigh. "I knew you brought troublesome news, Spartan, but nothing like this." He waved to one segment of the data, a visual of the Battle over Earth in the Parallel. "If Forerunner ships can barely fight back against these 'P'Vort,' what chance do we have?"

"We are providing the UNSC with new gear and repairing and refitting their older ships," the Chief answered, "We have a small army of Huragok; I see no reason why we can't do the same for your fleets."

As the various heads of state resumed their muttering, he stepped back to let them debate. The Arbiter was listening to the kaidons, weighing his decision for his keep. He couldn't force the other keeps to aid the humans, but he could persuade them to do so. "What would you ask of us, Spartan?" he asked, "If we join with you, what would we be doing?"

"It would mostly be ship-to-ship combat," he answered, "We have the beginnings of a plan." The data about the P'Vort vanished, and a projection of the Lesser Ark blossomed into view, its spin slowing as it expanded. "The route the Enemy is taking through Slipspace will bring its army past Installation 00b, or at least very close to it. Forerunner technology is advanced enough that we can force all possible Slipspace paths to meet over the Ark-" As he spoke, a tangled web of lines branched through the space around the Ark's projection, then twisted together so that they converged above its cradle. "-and then make them drop out of Slipspace."

Two holographic fleets of ships met and engaged above the translucent installation. "It's not much – we've not yet gone to see exactly what state the Lesser Ark is in, but it's intact enough that the Portal Generator is still online. The Enemy has the first-mover advantage, but this would give us the first strike, a surprise attack, an opportunity to engage the Flood on our own terms, before it can disappear into the space between stars and spread."

The Arbiter folded his hands. "And the chances of success? Of a united army stopping the Flood then and there?"

"Current projections put it at around two percent."

Many of the kaidons began muttering again.

"However…"

Silence fell once more.

"If we include a… contingency plan… it rises to almost one hundred percent, provided we force as many enemy ships as possible out of Slipspace."

The Arbiter stood up sharply, along with many of the other clan leaders. "How is that possible?!" one demanded, before another shouted, "To wipe out the Flood in one fell swoop, something even the Forerunners could not do-!"

"I cannot tell you our plan!" John managed to shout over the chaos, "If even one of you knows and falls to the Enemy Flood, it will no longer be viable!" When they settled once more, he continued, "I cannot tell you much most, but I can tell you this: you will not need your most heavily armed ships, but your fastest. Because if it all goes to hell, and makes this contingency necessary, you need to be able to get away, quickly, or you'll die."