Five: Requiem for a Fallen Angel

A conveyor moved the Broadsword along its track under the watchful eyes of the station's surviving personnel. It stopped over a hatch, which opened, and a gravity lift raised the HAVOK missile into place. Once it was secured, the conveyor released the fighter, and John pulled it around to face the asteroid field beyond the station.

"Good luck, Chief," said one of the security personnel.

"Kick his ass!"

"Show him what happens when you mess with the UNSC!"

"Acknowledged," the Spartan replied, "Once everything's settled, we'll have HIGHCOM dispatch whoever they can to help you."

The Broadsword blasted out of the hangar in pursuit of the Approach. The g-force from the acceleration kept even the Spartan pressed flat against the cockpit seat as they fought to catch up with the Forerunner ship.

"Approaching the Didact's ship in two hundred kilometers," said Cortana, "Once we get onboard, we'll find the bridge."

A Slipspace portal irised open in front of the Approach. "He's on the move again," said the Chief, already throttling the engines higher.

"The fighter's shields aren't rated for Slipspace!"

"No, but the Didact's are." He brought them in below the shields right before they came online, a silvery-blue barrier overhead. The Approach moved into Slipspace, the world beyond its shields dissolving into black and faint silver blurs. The Broadsword shook under his hands but held.

"Broadsword's hull integrity is stable," Cortana told him, monitoring its systems closely, "We'll be safe as long as we stay below the Didact's shields."

John guided the fighter through a short section of trench, noting that if he kept his gaze low, near the bottom edge of the Broadsword's windscreen, his anticipation picked it up as a target. The ghostly image of it flew ahead of them for a short while before the Didact sensed him. This time he actually, physically spoke. "Your determination is impressive, warrior, but the Composer is still mine once more. Once your Earth is Composed, that rabble you saved will follow."

"Locking on to his transmission…" Cortana said, "He's at the Composer. We can take them both out at once."

The Spartan accelerated again, evading a series of thick panels trying to block their passage through a narrow tunnel, then dropped back again, trying to conserve power.

There was an energy barrier blocking the trench ahead; the Chief launched a few of the fighter's missiles into it, disrupting the energy. It broke apart in a shimmer of light, the narrow gap opening into a wide and easy passage. The Didact continued manipulating the ship around them, trying to cut them off, but John was able to evade him while still steadily making his way down the ship toward the Composer.

Finally, Cortana said, "Cherenkov radiation fluctuating! We're coming out of Slipspace!"

The Approach faded back into real space, revealing Earth above them. At once, his armor's COM systems started picking up human transmissions. "At current velocity, hostile will achieve Earth orbit in approximately four minutes," someone from FLEETCOM reported.

"Roger," a female voice answered, "Battlegroup Dakota, close on the Forerunner vessel."

"Infinity must have warned them!" Cortana cried.

John nodded shortly in agreement and opened a channel. "Sierra-117 to Infinity, Captain Del Rio, do you read?"

"Chief, it's Lasky - is that you?!" The man sounded genuinely shocked.

"Affirmative, sir. Where's the captain?"

"FLEETCOM didn't take too kindly to his abandoning you on Requiem. I'm afraid I'll have to do."

Cortana started laughing, and the Spartan grinned but ignored her for the moment, saying, "The Didact's got the Composer. We're in a Broadsword carrying a HAVOK-grade payload, on approach to deliver it." The fighter streaked into a tight tunnel filled with spires. He steered them through, then boosted again to get through the doors ahead, grinding closed in an attempt to cut them off.

"Let's see if we can grease some wheels for you. All ships, prepare to engage!"

As the man prepared to snap off, John glanced up to his infotag and saw that it now read Captain Thomas J Lasky. His grin returned, even as Cortana's laughter subsided.

They continued their trench run, and the Didact continued manipulating the ship around them, trying to cut them off, even redirecting some of his own internal supply vessels in an attempt to make them collide. Then they were in another tunnel, more open, but also with more anti-air turrets, whose fire he had been evading for the entire flight. The Spartan continued evasive action, even as Captain Lasky came back over the line. "Chief, the battlegroup's moving forward to engage, but at the rate the Didact's ship is advancing, he'll reach the wire in T-minus two minutes!"

"Sir, direct all ships to the Composer."

"Copy that, Chief!"

"Orbital Defense Command, this is FLEETCOM. Hostile inbound; proceed to Condition Red."

"This is Earth Orbital Defense! MAC defense ineffective against enemy vessel - it's still approaching!"

There was a triple row of laser gates ahead. They had other purposes, but here the Didact was using them in an attempt to restrict the Broadsword's flight. It might have been successful if it weren't for the Spartan's anticipation; as it was, he wove through them with ease and throttled the engines a little higher, picking up the pace. They had to destroy the Composer before the Forerunner achieved Earth orbit.

"Infinity to FLEETCOM, battlegroup has reached Didact's ship!"

"Captain Lasky, you are clear to engage!"

So it hadn't been his imagination. He exchanged a quick grin with Cortana on his HUD, then refocused on flying the ship. He cleared a chain of energy barriers, then accelerated through a tunnel that grew steadily smaller further along its length. The fighter narrowly escaped before it irised shut completely, emerging into the bowl-shaped firing center. Massive metal panels were already closing off the interior of the ship - they couldn't destroy the Composer, but neither could the Didact fire it.

"Infinity, the Didact just closed off our access to the Composer," the Spartan said, swinging the fighter around to circle the edge of the firing center.

"We could try punching a hole in that hull plating," the other man offered, "but Infinity won't be able to get a clear shot with all that flak."

"We'll take care of the guns." John swung around to target the energy pylon at the center of the ring, taking down the shields that protected the guns' own energy cores. He returned to circling the edge of the ring and blasted the first energy core apart.

"Whatever you're doing's working!" the officer said over the COM, "Clear up the approach, and Infinity can drop in and punch a hole for you!"

Two more guns went the way of the first. "Only one gun left," the AI told the new captain.

"Copy that, Cortana," Lasky answered, "Weapons, prepare firing solution! We promised to get the Chief in there, and I'm not about to let that man down!"

The last gun followed all the others, vanishing in a flare of golden hard light flakes. "That's the last one," John said, guiding the Broadsword up and away to get them out of the blast radius, "Infinity, you're clear."

"Roger that, Chief." Beyond the Didact's ship, Infinity moved into position. "You might want to back up a little. Main battery, fire!"

The ship's forward lasers blasted a hole in the plating protecting the Composer at the Approach's core, ejecting a cloud of debris with a plume of fire. "Clean hit," the Spartan reported, "We're proceeding to insertion." He guided the Broadsword up in a loop that brought them down into the opening.

"Acknowledged. We'll be on station if you need us. Make sure to give the Didact our regards."

Despite all the damage Infinity had done, it was still a tight fit. No - the Approach was reconfiguring to seal off the hole, forcing him to put the Broadsword through some tight rolls to avoid slamming into the walls, but it was still going to be close -

The fighter slammed through the smallest gap imaginable and skidded painfully to a stop in a scorched hall. John held his position for a moment longer, then let out a long breath and released the controls. The fighter was too damaged for the cockpit to open on its own, but he managed to twist enough to bring his legs up and kick out hard, shattering the windscreen. Then he pushed himself up and out, and dropped to the floor below.

"Now what do we do?" Cortana asked.

John looked around briefly, then pulled the warhead free from the missile before swinging it back to attach to the magnetic panels on his back. "Plan B."

He headed out of the scorched hall. The next one had been spared the destruction of Infinity's guns; it was shaped like a "T", and the crosspiece of it formed the main branch of the next hall, shaped identical to the first.

The distortion at the edges of his HUD intensified. "Chief, I know I'm supposed to know what to do, but…!"

"We'll have to deploy the warhead manually," the Spartan responded, "Scan for the Composer."

"I always know what to do - I always know what to do…! Just give me a second…"

There were Prometheans portaling in to engage him, even as the Didact hissed, "Where reason cannot stop you, perhaps force can at least delay you."

John ignored him and kept moving, eventually coming to a grav lift. As he dropped down it, Cortana's personality spikes came through. "I won't leave you, I promise! I'll always take care of you."

Cortana appeared on his HUD. She looked tired. "Still good for something, I guess," she said, a bit of distortion in her voice to match that on his HUD, "I detected an energy signature up ahead - I think it's a transit system like on Requiem. Find a way to access it."

The Spartan trusted her judgement. He jogged up a short ramp, doors opening before him, and stepped out onto a tongue of metal that jutted out into a large chamber. Intraship supply vessels flew up and down and all around beyond the edge of the platform, moving parts and raw materials to places where hard light would not suffice.

A plinth rose to meet them. "I'll try to route us to the Composer," she said, sounding almost resigned now, "Put me in the system."

He did so. Her avatar appeared for an instant before compressing into a sphere of fraying code, flickering red and blue.

"Is this the secret you kept from me?" the Didact rumbled, "This… evolved ancilla?"

"Didact knows I'm in the system! Hurry, go!"

A portal opened nearby, and he threw himself into the vortex. It dropped him at the bottom of a ramp, a Crawler peering down at him. He shot it, then moved up to take its place. Another portal formed at the end of a short path, but there were more than a dozen Crawlers between him and it.

That could be to his advantage. He hurled a pulse grenade into their midst, then fired at the ones clinging to the walls. When the last of them went down, he scooped up a binary rifle and kept moving.

"I sense your malfunctioning companion, human. And yet… she eludes me."

John jumped through the portal and arrived on a routing platform with a number of inactive portals, and also a number of Prometheans. "Ca-aa-n't fight… Didact… and… myself… si-mul-ta-neously," the AI managed, her voice thick with static, "Opening another portal…"

He gunned his way through the Prometheans, used the binary rifle on the Knights and traded it out for the Commander's Incineration Cannon. When he jumped through the next portal, it dropped him in some kind of armory.

"I'm sorry!" Cortana said over the COM, her personality spikes whispering in the background, "I can't control what my processes are doing! The stronger threads keep reprioritizing themselves over me! I'll try to move you to the Composer again."

The Spartan stocked up on ammo and grenades, then headed through the portal. It dropped him in another routing center, this one also with its own complement of Prometheans. One of the Knights had its back turned to him; he lunged for it and yanked it around to plunge his combat knife into what passed for its face. As golden flakes swirled away around him, he turned his guns on the others.

"Portal open," Cortana called, "far side of the room!"

"Where are you?" John demanded, even as he moved to obey.

"Didact's cloaking the Composer from me!"

He gritted his teeth. If he were still - but no. On this front, he was worse than useless. No doubt she was trying to split her focus - half to find the Composer, and half to monitor his progress. He'd become a liability.

The Crawlers died with viciousness some would have called unnecessary. He kept his autosentry up the whole time, using it to cover his back while he used his lightrifle to shoot the ones that came from below before they could leap at him.

He almost jumped when Cortana spoke again. "I'm taking control of the local defense turrets," the AI said, spawning the machines. They too fired on the Crawlers, and together with the Spartan they were protecting, they destroyed another two dozen of the things before Cortana appeared on a plinth nearby. "Got it!" she called, "I've locked him out of the system, but I don't know for how long!"

The Chief retrieved her and raced down the ramp to the portal at the end. Turrets lining the bridge held the attention of the Crawlers and let him jump through the vortex.

They landed in a short hall. The doors at the end opened to reveal a grav lift, which carried them up and out onto a ramp with a conveyor lift at the end. The "man cannon", as it was colloquially known, launched them through four ring-shaped accelerators toward the platform where the Composer rested.

His HUD distortion had returned when he reclaimed her, and now it intensified again. "Chief, once that warhead is primed, the window for getting out of here is going to be pretty slim."

Even as Cortana spoke, the panels overhead began retracting, the centerpiece retracting in a golden flare of hard light.

"...I know," John said finally.

The Composer's amplifiers began latching together. "And so, you come at last…" the Forerunner rumbled.

"Significant Slipspace event building under the Composer!"

"He's powering it up."

They landed on a ramp that led up through another small armory. John grabbed another binary rifle, thinking he could shoot the Forerunner from afar, but once the last set of doors opened, he saw that it wasn't an option. The Promethean was inside a barrier, directly in the energy stream powering the Composer, letting him control it more closely. The shield generators for the barrier were on either side of thin, the line of their energy beams perpendicular to the Spartan. "The nuke won't do us any good unless we can disable that barrier - find me a terminal!"

As if summoned by her words, a plinth rose up from the floor. The Chief slotted her in, and she appeared at once. "I have to do something you're not going to like," she said, right before she screamed in pain, her avatar flashing red and blue, splitting and distorting.

He yanked her as quick as he dared. "What did you just do?" he demanded, still obeying the implicit command when she put up a nav point over one of the man cannons below.

"I ejected my rampant personality spikes into the system," she panted, "If I do that at each of those beams, the copies - can overwhelm the Composer's shielding."

The copies would keep splitting, duplicating, John realized, and suck up so much system memory that even the Forerunner tech wouldn't be able to process anything else. All of it would crash and shut down, taking the shields with it.

There was a horde of Crawlers between him and the next console. He wished more than anything that he was still a Gravemind - he was confident that he could have taken control of the little machines, even without contact with the Composer - but if wishes were horses, beggars would ride. He fought his way past the little bastards to the next plinth.

Cortana's cry of pain was agonizing to him, too - he couldn't do anything to help her, and it went against everything in him to let her hurt herself like that.

But as he returned her to his armor, the shield beam flickered and faded out. "That's it! It's working!"

John crossed another gap in another man cannon, set up his autosentry and ran for the second conveyor lift on the far side.

"You humans sought the Didact. You will have him."

"Chief, his ship's in range! Once we get the barrier down, we need to get the nuke in there fast!"

The Spartan focused fire on the Knights, finally hefting his Incineration Cannon to take them out in groups, mostly leaving the Crawlers to his autosentry. More than a dozen of the insectoid machines portaled in by the end, but it still wasn't enough to stop the Spartan.

He inserted the AI matrix into the plinth once more and watched as she split herself again. The shield beam went out, and the barrier vanished.

"And yet," said the Didact, "still you fail."

The Composer came online with a hum, then fired at Earth, hitting the ground somewhere in the American southwest. John briefly touched the warhead to make sure it was still there, then reached for the plinth.

A wave of energy hit, knocking him backwards, his shield alarm ringing in his ears.

The plinth dissolved in a swirl of golden hard light.

No! No no no no no - ! "Cortana?!"

There wasn't time. The nuke, the Composer - he had to - he jumped off the ledge and sprinted for the conveyor that would take him back to the first platform. The copies whispered to him as he ran - "Get to the Core. Destroy it. I'll always take care of you. Place the bomb in the core."

There were a handful of Knights waiting for him. He didn't bother going for anything less subtle, just fired the Incineration Cannon until there was nothing left to fight him. But as he went, Cortana - the original - pushed through just long enough to say, "Prime the nuke… sa-a-a-ave them! Destroy the Composer!"

"Cortana!?"

She was gone again, but his objective notice changed to a message from her: It's all right. But you must hurry…

A gravity lift activated and carried him up to a light bridge leading to the Composer. The Didact was no longer in the energy stream, and the overwhelming radiation from the Composer was creating all kinds of false contacts on his motion tracker.

"You persist too long after your own defeat."

John swept the area. Still no sign. If he was cloaked, it was good enough that his anticipation wasn't picking up anything beyond a sharp unease in all directions.

"Come then, Warrior. Have your resolution."

-behind-

John whipped around, and managed to get off a shot before his gun was slapped out of his hands by the Forerunner's constraint field. His lightrifle skidded across the bridge and off the edge. The nuke did not, thank the Precursors, but as he lunged for it, the Didact snared him in the constraint field and lifted him away from the warhead.

The Promethean's helm plates retracted. "So misguided," he hummed, holding the Spartan out over the Slipspace portal below, "Humanity's imprisonment is a kindness."

He clenched his fist, and the constraint field tightened. John groaned in his grip, tried to struggle - then noticed the flickering of the light bridge.

Multiple copies of Cortana emerged from the hard light, surrounding the Didact. "In that case," one - the original? - said, "you won't mind if we return the favor."

"Your compassion for mankind is misplaced-" the Forerunner began, but they cut him off.

"I'm not doing this for mankind!"

And then they lunged, jumping into his armor and causing it to malfunction and spark, forming themselves into tendrils of hard light that shackled him to the bridge. In the process, John was released, and he caught the edge of the bridge as he fell, panting with the strain. But he heaved himself back up onto the bridge.

The Didact was still fighting with Cortana and her copies - the Spartan couldn't give him time to wrest himself free. He got his feet under him, groped for a grenade -

-and came up empty.

He took a deep breath, then charged the Promethean, throwing all his weight and momentum behind tackling the Forerunner off the bridge. The other was much larger, but he was already off-balance because of the Cortanas - their bodies collided and went over the edge.

But John was already twisting in midair, pushing off of the Forerunner and catching the edge of the bridge. The ship's artificial gravity caught them both and pulled them down, the Spartan latched onto the bridge-

Agony ripped through him, and he let out a howl of pain that sounded more than a little bit like the Flood's. The Promethean had grabbed his ankle as he fell, using the Spartan as a living safety rope. 'One try,' John thought, gathering himself, 'One - and if he doesn't let go-'

Then I will.

He snarled and swung his lower body up. The Didact slammed against the underside of the light bridge, the impact stunning him, making him loosen his grip just enough for the Spartan to jerk free.

The Chief held fast to the edge of the bridge despite his body's shuddering and shaking from injury, watching as the Forerunner fell away, swallowed by the darkness of the Slipspace event below.

Then he heaved himself up onto the bridge again and crawled, inch by agonizing inch, to where the HAVOK warhead lay. When his hands closed on it, he twisted it open to prime it, then slammed his hand down to detonate.

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

'I always imagined death to be painless, peaceful darkness. I must still be alive.'

The Spartan blinked away the afterimage of the detonation and found himself encased in a box of hard light, blue, familiar patterns and pulses of light traveling slowly over the walls. "Cortana?"

No response. He forced himself to his feet and said, "Cortana, do you read?"

Still nothing. His heart rate picked up again. "Cortana, come in," he nearly begged - then the anticipation whispered.

Movement at his back. A soft, sky blue glow. He turned.

It was her, and he relaxed as she approached. Still… "How…?" The question had a thousand endings. How had she snatched him away from what should have been his demise? How had she survived her endless rampant splitting, the destruction of the Approach? How were they getting home so he could save her?

"Oh, I'm the strangest thing you've seen all day?" She was smiling, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"But if we're here…" Was this real?

"It worked," she said, "You did it, just like you always do."

He accepted that. "So how do we get out of here?"

She looked down at her feet, then back up. "I'm not coming with you this time."

His flesh crawled, so strongly that for a moment he thought he would spontaneously become infected by sheer force of will and denial. "What?"

"Most of me is down there. I only held enough back to get you off the ship."

"No. That's not - we go together."

"It's already done."

This he would not accept. "I am not leaving you here."

"John…" Cortana crossed the distance between them in a single smooth stride, his arms already opening to receive her. She tucked herself against him like she could burrow into him again, like she could jump back into his armor by sheer force of will. Her hard light form was solid in his embrace, more unforgiving than flesh but somehow all the more real for it.

He held her close and whispered, "I was supposed to take care of you."

"We were supposed to take care of each other," she corrected gently, tilting her head up to look him in the eye, "and we did."

He let out a shaky breath and clenched his fists to stop from clutching at her when she stepped back. Damn the consequences. "Melintyë, enedhen." I love you, my heart.

We are not like others, even in our own Hive - we love only once. There will be no other.

A bright smile, but still rich with sorrow. "Welcome home, John."

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

He wasn't sure how long he drifted in the remains of the Mantle's Approach, only that it was long enough that his breath had grown thin, spots swimming before his eyes and darkness lingering at the edges. Even so, he didn't miss when a spotlight shone down on him, drawing him out of the meditative state he'd been using to try to prolong his life. He slowly turned his head to look up into the light.

"Infinity actual? Pelican Nine-Sixer. We found him."

The Pelican's troop bay opened up, the ship gliding slowly overhead. He lifted a hand and caught the edge of the bay platform, and used it to pull himself inside. When it sealed behind him, fresh air was pumped back in, and he was finally able to unseal his helmet and breathe easy, even as two Marines helped him hobble to the seats. He strapped himself in but barely felt it when the Pelican turned for the Infinity.

There were SPARTAN-IVs and Marines waiting in formation in the bay where the Pelican docked. They saluted him as he descended the ramp, a gesture he returned before disappearing into the ship.

HIGHCOM was still in disarray after the assault on Earth, so he had no orders to report anywhere - not yet. He made his way to the observation deck, looking out over the green and blue planet. Cortana had sacrificed her life, but saving Earth had only been incidental in that.

He let out a shaky breath and blinked back tears.

The peace and quiet was too good to last. There were footsteps behind him, followed by a voice. "Mind if I join you?"

Lasky. John straightened automatically and turned to look at the officer. "Of course not, sir."

The man's lips quirked up in sardonic amusement. "At ease, Chief," he said, walking slowly over to stand next to him, "Feels kinda odd for you to call me sir."

Both of them gazed out at Earth, their minds light years away. John had had people close to him sacrifice themselves to defend Earth and humanity before, but never specifically to defend him. Not since Sam, and that doubled the grief.

He returned his attention to the present when he realized Lasky was speaking. "Chief," said the officer, "I won't pretend to know how you feel. I've lost people I care about, but… never anything like what you're going through."

His whole body went tight. It was more than the man knew - more than he would likely ever know. If the Fleet wasn't here, then the secret of the Parallel would die with him, as it had with her. He wasn't just a Spartan grieving his partner - he was a husband grieving his wife.

A hundred thousand years, and he'd never dreamed that one day he would be a widower.

"I'll let you have the deck to yourself."

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

Eventually the orders came. The Spartan reported to S-Deck to have his armor removed - part of him wanted to keep it; the last set he'd worn that Cortana had inhabited - but distantly he recognized that that wasn't a healthy response and forced himself to let it go. From there, he reported to the infirmary; they had finally freed up enough space to see him.

The chief medical officer - one "Lieutenant Commander Sarah Davis" - took one look at him and blinked in shock and a strange sort of recognition (and she looked familiar too, in some undefinable way – he half-expected her to smell crisp and fruity, like apples, but the infirmary's disinfectant overpowered anything he might have caught). Then she said, "You look like shit, sir."

A weak smile twitched his lips. It was worse than she knew. But after that she worked in silence, treating everything she could see. When he was as good as new, she let him up off the table.

But she'd seen more than he expected. "I'm making you an appointment with the ship's grief counselor."

He raised an eyebrow at her. She said, "You might not have actually been in a relationship, but I recognize the look of one who's lost a life partner. I had that look once myself."

She pulled her datapad over and minimized everything so he could see the background. It was an old "selfie" of a younger version of her with another woman, an ODST, with short, electric blue hair and a bright, friendly smile. "Kyla Emmett," said Davis, "She served on the Spirit of Fire."

"Declared lost with all hands in '34," the Chief said, "I remember. There were Spartans onboard. Three of my siblings."

Davis's expression went a little odd at that, but she nodded in assent. "Once you're done with HIGHCOM, I recommend you go see the counselor - we've got a good one here - but it's not a requirement. Other than that, you're good to go. Dismissed."

He stood up, saluted, and departed.

The quarters he'd been assigned under Del Rio were still empty, so he claimed them once again for a shower and a brief rest before reporting in. He stripped out of the new MJOLNIR undersuit and stepped into the bathroom.

The stark lights and white tile were harsh on his eyes, and his skin felt weirdly tender, especially his stomach. When he touched a hand to the muscle, he felt the slightest slick under his fingers, a faint oiliness that hadn't been there when he entered cryo so many ages ago, and he was fairly certain it wasn't sweat - that had long since dried.

When he lifted his fingers to his nose, he caught the faintest whiff of revolting, sickly-sweet rot.

**********

I would've gave it all,

Truth be told I can't believe you're gone,

Like a dream I can't recall,

Now I gotta face the fact that you're never coming back.

'Cause you're running through my dreams,

It's like you're on repeat.

Feels like eternity, and I can't believe,

I let you in, you left me out,

You left me on my own, you left me all alone,

I let you in, you bled me out,

You left me skin and bone, you left me all alone.

You used to run, run through my veins,

And to be honest, I know I'll never be the same,

I let you in, you left me out,

You left me on my own, you left me all alone...

You left me all alone...

-"Alone", I Prevail (Lifelines)