Halo: Minorca Saga/Chapter Twenty Five

There is light. Blessed 
sunlight. The Titan basks for a moment – so long since it felt the warmth of a 
stars light. So long since freedom.
 
To the Titan, it is like 
poking a finger between prison bars. But it basks, and it plans.
 
It senses movement – the 
scurrying of miniscule beings of insignificance. Beings who believe this planet 
to be theirs. Who shall be relieved of their erroneous belief soon enough.
 
The gates of Tartarus bend 
and ripple. They shall give way soon. Very soon. But not yet.
 
There is still something 
missing. But the Titan can wait, and its dreams are filled with images of worlds 
conquered or to be conquered. It can dream as it waits.
 
Something brushes against a 
fingertip – a tiny burst of consciousness that is quickly snuffed out. But it is 
enough.
 
The gates shudder, and the 
cracks begin to give…
 
 
 
JUNE 17TH, 
2551 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR) / ALIEN ARTEFACT QUARANTINE ZONE, NORTH-EAST OF 
COLONIAL CAPITAL OF NEW LONDON
 
“Alright Doctor. Explain it to 
me again.”
 
Verdani sat with his arms 
crossed, his face once again locked into a scowl. He found it stopped people 
making mistakes like treating him like an idiot, or asking him for favours. It 
sped meetings up.
 
Unfortunately, his rank and 
status as the commanding officer of one of the best Helljumper battalions in the 
Corps held no sway over the civilian giving the brief summary. And Doctor 
Meredith Yankovic knew it.
 
Frankly, he found it a little 
attractive about her. But mostly he just found it annoying.
 
She sighed in equal annoyance, 
and pinched her nose.
 
“Colonel Forrester, I’ve had 
three days to study something that needs decades to examine. I can’t tell 
you any more.”
 
“And I’m not asking you 
to, Doctor. I’m telling you to tell me what you do know. And slower. I’m 
a military man, not a xenobiologist or xenoarchaeologist.”
 
She shrugged, turning back to 
her display, and started it again.
 
The holographic display warmed, 
light swirled through the room, and a top-down view of the region appeared. She 
zoomed down, until it focussed upon the sinkhole that had once been Dima hill.
 
“After the Covenant landed their 
forces on the planet’s surface, ONI detected a small ship entering the 
atmosphere on a different angle. Not part of the fleet. A single tiny stealth 
ship, one which we still haven’t found yet. But we did find two Scarabs in this 
area. The first one was moving here from the main Covenant force. To be 
expected.
 
“The second was already here, 
and had already begun searching near Blenheim. A special operations team 
followed them here, where they waited until the Covenant had excavated the 
artefact until they called for reinforcements. After which-”
 
Verdani held up a hand, 
motioning for silence. Doctor Yankovic returned his glare.
 
“That’s one thing I don’t 
understand. My Helljumpers are the only Special Ops unit in this system. If that 
was true, I would know about it. I would be missing Marines. And I would most 
certainly know more than ONI is letting you tell you.”
 
“ONI is not-” she began, 
heatedly.
 
“Right. Just keep telling 
yourself that. But can you answer my concern?”
 
The Doctor adjusted her glasses, 
regaining her composure. “As far as I am aware, Colonel, you are the only 
Orbital Drop Shock Trooper unit in this system, as you said before.”
 
Verdani frowned. As a 
Helljumper, he’d seen enough liars to know when someone was telling tall tales, 
but the good Doctor wasn’t one of them.
 
“Then who else?”
 
“That is something you’ll have 
to take up with Naval Special Weapons.”
 
Verdani’s blood ran cold for a 
moment, and his glare turned into a wide-eyed stare of horror.
 
“You mean Naval Special Warfare,
surely-”
 
“No, Colonel. Having been the 
person who said it, I think I’m a pretty good judge of what I meant.”
 
Jesus. Spartans. In his damn 
theatre of operations. Damn. Damn, damn, damn.
 
He didn’t hate the 
Spartans. Hate was a strong word, too strong for Verdani. He had met a few of 
them, and personally found them to be professional, skilled, intent on doing 
their job to the best of their abilities. And since he was a Helljumper, his 
seal of approval carried a lot more weight than a regular Marine CO. But as a 
unit, as a program, he abhorred the idea that the UNSC would willingly create 
less than a platoon of soldiers that could take on the Covenant on even footing, 
deny anyone else such capability, and then hail these Spartans as heroes of the 
colonies.
 
Soldiers weren’t heroes. They 
were men and women who died for what they believed in. Hero was a word. Soldier 
was an idea. And making a group of warriors who were seemingly immune from 
anything the enemy threw at them heroes was an insult to the millions of regular 
men and women who had died in the past twenty years of war against the Covenant.
 
Major Mitchell coughed slightly, 
indicating that the Doctor continue her presentation. She shuffled the papers 
attached to her clipboard, picked her TACPAD off the desk beside her again, and 
returned to the display.
 
“After the recon team went 
missing, the 88th Marine Regiment moved in, with elements of the 
Army’s 199th Brigade and the 506th ODST Force Recon 
Battalion. Since my predecessor was a part of the recon team, I was called in to 
continue the survey. After the fall of New London, a lot of resources were 
switched from study and excavation to defence-”
 
Verdani interrupted again. “As 
you well know Doctor, new London is less than forty kilometres from here. We are 
on the frontlines. If you would rather we leave you defenceless-”
 
“That wasn’t a complaint, 
Colonel, merely an observation. If I may?”
 
Verdani nodded again.
 
“As I was saying, the lack of 
manpower has hindered my examination somewhat, but there are some rudimentary 
things that I can tell you.”
 
She called up a number of 
symbols. Verdani recognised them – they were used by the Covenant. But they 
looked…different somehow. More elegant. Refined. Sharper. And, to an 
extent…deeper, whatever the hell that meant.
 
“These symbols are carved deeply 
into the structure. As far as we can tell, the entire structure bears them, and 
they are laid in a non-random repeating pattern. So far, total translation 
eludes our AI’s. They are not written in any Covenant dialect, or in any style. 
We’ve also recorded more than 400 individually unique logograms, significantly 
more than that used by the Covenant.
 
“There are also other 
indications that the structure is of non-Covenant extraterrestrial origin. The 
construction of the artefact is perfect. I don’t mean in terms of aesthetics, 
though its creators obviously had a fetish for angular spires. I mean it is 
perfect down to the molecular level, indicating an accuracy far beyond anything 
either the UNSC or the Covenant possesses.
 
“It also predates the Covenant. 
Preliminary estimates indicate the rock strata that surrounds it to be 
approximately 100,000 years old, dating to the Middle Palaeolithic – back to the 
last Ice Age,” she said, remembering that her audience was a military man, not a 
xenobiologist or xenoarchaeologist. “Before the development of human 
civilisation, and long before the Covenant took to the stars, from what we’ve 
gathered on their history.
 
“This means that the structure 
was obviously created by something else. Someone else. The similarities between 
the writing systems indicate that the Covenant at least have some knowledge of 
them. But beyond that, it is impossible to say with available data. Similar 
ruins found on Onyx, Reach, Cote d’Azure, and Bliss before it was glassed, 
indicate that this was an interstellar empire. I find it likely that most 
inhabited UNSC colonies possessed at least some remnants of their civilisation. 
It may be this that the Covenant are after. Or perhaps they believe our presence 
is a desecration. Either way, these aliens, whoever and wherever they are, are 
tied to this war somehow.”
 
Verdani raised an eyebrow. “And 
how does that help me?”
 
Doctor Yankovic rolled her eyes, 
ever-so-slightly. “This is a potential indication of the Covenant’s motivation 
for their war against us. Any knowledge of our enemy is better than none. At the 
very least, it will let us know what sins we have committed to earn the eternal 
enmity of their gods and their Prophets, and we might be able to correct it. At 
the most, it could lead to a truce. A détente. A cease-fire.”
 
Verdani snarled, standing 
abruptly. “Now see here, missy! If these is EVER peace with those genocidal 
sons-of-bitches, it will be over my COLD, DEAD BODY!!!”
 
The Doctor gave him an apprising 
look, as though studying a lab specimen that has reacted in a new way. She 
shrugged. 
 
“Given the rate at which the 
Covenant are destroying world after world, and slaughtering billions, colonel, 
that may very well be the case. If it ends the war and we aren’t extinct, I will 
regard it as a good thing.”
 
“I don’t need to debate 
philosophy with some jumped-up doctor who earned her degree from some backwater 
colonial university. I’m done here.”
 
 
 
Meredith waited until the 
Colonel was gone before she switched the holographic display back on. The 
swirling light returned, but the satellite photograph was replaced by another 
figure – a large, black reptilian, smoke billowing from holographic nostrils, 
eyes boring holes into her.
 
“I was impressed, Doctor. Not 
many have your ability to withstand the fury of the Colonel.”
 
She gave him a small smile. 
“I’ve had worse Professors in my time, Glaurung. Reach University is a hub of 
snobbery, pride, arrogance and spite. Frankly, he’s a little tame compared to 
the audience I’m used to.”
 
Glaurung cocked his head, 
managing to convey through the unemotive motion that he didn’t believe her. It 
was almost true, though – pride wasn’t confined to military men like Colonel 
Forrester.
 
“I examined your findings, 
Doctor. In the uncensored format that ONI approved for my appraisal. And I have 
found some flaws in your findings.”
 
“How so?”
 
“You argue that the logograms 
formed the basis for the Covenant writing system, and that continued comparisons 
of the glyphs to Covenant dialects will yield a translation. But the symbols I 
have observed bear only a passing resemblance to their nearest Covenant 
equivalents. And even when potentially comprehensible sentences can be 
assembled, it yields only Logorrhoea. A random jumble of 
words.”
 
Meredith was curious now. “I’m 
sure you won’t take it as a boost to your ego when I say my intellect, as vast 
as it is, is no match for the sheer computing power of a Smart AI. But what is 
your point?”
 
“My point, Doctor, is that 
Covenant translations have failed. Have you perhaps considered the possibility 
that the Covenant have as much idea of what the logograms actually mean as we 
do?”
 
Meredith paused, mulling over 
that thought.
 
“You have a good point, 
Glaurung. Would you add it to my briefing for Admiral Reichmuth?”
 
“Of course, Doctor.”
 
She began gathering her things, 
packing the paper, clipboard, laptop and various tiny pieces of equipment into 
her briefcase – a gift from her father upon graduation. She paused as her hand 
passed over something as alien to her as the artefacts Project TEMERITY, the 
project she was assigned to, had yielded – an M6D pistol.
 
“He does care,” Glaurung said, 
his muzzle bowed slightly. “Not many people get past the outer shell, and the 
inner shell isn’t much different. You upset him with that remark about peace. 
But never think that he won’t lay down his life to protect humanity by any
means.”
 
Meredith picked the weapon up, 
feeling the weight of it in her hands. She ha received basic firearms training – 
most ONI consultants had to. It was heavier towards the hilt, and she doubted 
anything that fired a 12.7mm bullet would need a scope. But she appreciated it, 
tucking it snugly between his laptop and a spare sweater.
 
“I know, Glaurung. And to be 
honest, I completely agree with him.”
 
And with that, leaving a 
surprised but impressed dragon behind her, she departed.
 
 
 
The squad would have laughed if 
they could see him now. Private Parker was, therefore, glad that they were still 
huddled around the warmth of the small fire they had got going.
 
When he had joined the Army, the 
recruiters had told him he was entering a life of excitement and variety, 
fighting in the name of the motherworld, Earth. He hadn’t cared. The look on 
Jenny’s face when he’d shown off his uniform for the first time had been worth 
the effort.
 
The cold nights, constant terror 
of Covenant attack, and loss after loss was not.
 
He holds the picture, 
tear-stained eyes roving over its contents. He and Jenny had been eighteen  – 
he’d just enlisted, and she’d got a job at the local newspaper as a reported. 
They were planning to get married – or perhaps she had just been teasing him? 
She did that a lot-
 
He mentally corrected himself 
for what seemed like the thousandth time.
 
She’d done that a lot.
 
Megiddo had been glassed back in 
’36. She’d been covering a story on the troops on the frontlines, when a single 
ship broke formation from the enemy taskforce. By the time the UNSC had moved 
in, the ship had glassed half the colony.
 
He sometimes wanted to tear the 
picture apart. But he never did.
 
There was a small sound from 
nearby. Another branch falling, no doubt. He stashed the picture away, though, 
in case it was a squadmate.
 
There was another sound, louder. 
Parker grabbed his MA5A. That wasn’t a branch.
 
He looked around for cover, 
settling on a fallen log. He crouched behind it, rifle set against the bark, 
aimed at the source of the noise. After a few seconds, the sound died away, and 
silence returned to the jungle. Parker rose, reattaching his rifle to the 
magnetic clamp, muttering to himself about damned jungle critters.
 
And a few minutes later, his 
screams joined that of the rest of his squad.
 
 
 
The Titan touched their 
minds. And the gates that barred its way shut for millennia crashed open…
Category:Minorca Saga