A week later, the first Human ships arrived at Halo. I had been bored on the planet's surface as the Avatar all this time, just walking around the territory in search of anything at all. Unfortunately, I had no access to the system due to the attack on the generators. I had to wait until we found the Monitor and, with her help, engage in research.
The robots are briskly restoring the mechanisms, destroying the ecosystem of Halo ruined by battles and the parasite, and forming it anew. Approximately no one paid attention to the Avatar. Everyone has their own tasks.
I visited the site of the Noble Team's destruction. The guys were defending the generator from robots, and all that remained of them were piles of scorched ash and implants in armor. I left a marker, but decided not to go far anyway; the robots might try to recycle them during the cleanup process. It's not important to me, but Humans value such things.
The Monitor still hasn't appeared; I assume the robot was locked up or powered down on a Covenant ship. We'll find her.
The Covenant ships themselves hung in space all this week, showing no signs of activity. I thought, what if the Forerunners cleared their own fleet in the same way—what happened to the ships? Somewhere in dark space, entire multi-thousand ship fleets should be flying, cleared of the parasite by the shot, abandoned. It might be possible to try and search if there are traces of activity. No guarantee it will work, of course.
This is a matter for the future; space is vast, colossal. And the chances of finding such fleets are minuscule. Even with all the technologies, powered-down ships could have ended up anywhere over a hundred thousand years. Without knowledge of starting points and movement vectors, the search is doomed.
So all that remained for the Avatar was to walk and watch the sky. And to ensure the remains weren't recycled. And when a formation of Jupiters exited a jump, to report via hologram to the Vice Admiral.
"They have arrived. I need transport; I want to visit the capital of The Covenant."
The Vice Admiral raised an eyebrow.
"Reason?"
"I'll look for the Monitor."
The Vice Admiral shook her head.
"Don't rush. If you find her—find her. No need to let her out. Without the Monitor, but with the Index, our AIs will be able to enter the ring's systems. And we will do exactly that. Extract information from the libraries of this place. A storehouse of Forerunner knowledge. And considering your new armor, not just Forerunner. We'll see; maybe we can copy it on local equipment."
I nodded, understanding what she meant.
"Reasonable, Vice Admiral."
In a Pelican that arrived about six hours later, I was taken to the mushroom-shaped capital of the Covenant. A huge, illuminated city. The diameter of the "cap" is some three hundred kilometers, inside which is hidden a metropolis with ground and air transport, shipyards and factories, quarters and districts. In which everyone simply left. Or turned to ash. Light, cleanliness, and order. True, no living organics except plants and simple life forms. But those are trifles.
"Big city," the pilot whistled as we flew through the force field in the center of the "cap" at the top of the mushroom.
Indeed, the search promises to be long. I looked around, deciding where to start.
"Take me to the center, to that pyramidal tower of three beams with a sphere in the middle. I'd locate everything important right there."
"The most important building in the very center," the pilot huffed, "well, there's logic in that. Flying there, Commander."
A couple of dozen meters of a Pelican simply get lost against the background of a tower ten kilometers high. A dot against the background of white synthetic material... The more I look at this tower, the more I see the difference between Covenant architecture (blue-purple grown surfaces on Covenant ships and gray-white towers) and those typical for Forerunners. And the style (a rounded building surrounded by metal or polymer struts) is also characteristic of Forerunners. Is this a Covenant temple or some Forerunner equipment? We'll find out when we're inside and see what's in it.
Just how "in it" it was became clear when the Pelican landed on the platform. Besides me, about a dozen people jumped out here. Four scientists, eight soldiers. Barely glancing at the mechanisms, at the holograms, a scientist asked:
"This, this isn't a Forerunner building, right?"
I silently approached the nearest console and tried to read the information. Unfortunately, nothing interesting. Only a door can be opened. And the airlock, a large cargo one about twenty meters wide, slowly opened, revealing a familiar passage. A few hours ago, we were walking through a backup technical zone of Halo, which had exactly these kinds of ribbed, illuminated corridors.
"This is definitely a Forerunner building," the scientist nodded, "hey, where are you going?"
I bypassed the crowded people and walked quickly deep into the halls.
"We'll find the control room, then we'll understand exactly what we've found."
Is there any doubt the entire squad followed? We had to run to find the control room. This place is truly large, a sphere about two kilometers in diameter. But when another six-meter-high door hissed open, I nodded to myself and to the slightly out-of-breath but not lagging scientists:
"A typical Forerunner control room. We've arrived."
A huge square hall with panoramic monitors, creating the illusion that the hall has no roof and you are on a slab extending into space. A second and third layer of projections and screens located on the walls and around the central elevation in this rather large hall. No throne, of course, but there is a pedestal for a captain.
Control panels. Status, weapons control, primary, secondary, tertiary systems. All systems of an ancient ship. A deeply modified high-ranking Forerunner could have operated such a mechanism alone. Or a crew of less modified individuals. Yes, this is definitely a Forerunner ship. How interesting; I've never encountered such a design in the archives.
"Well, little ship, open your secrets. What are you and why were you created?"
I approached the console, giving a general request. And then I allowed the Avatar to swear. In Ancient Human, noting with the camera on the end of one of the tails that a couple of scientists were recording. The third had gone to the edge; the last one remained nearby, also more interested in the ship's system readings.
"Well, what's there?" the same scientist asked, standing nearby.
Apparently, he realized I could connect to their systems. Or rather, I was already doing it through a special adapter. Thanks to the Monitor, an extremely far-sighted AI.
"This is a Forerunner ship," the Avatar replied, "and not just any ship."
And the Core at that moment was reporting to the Vice Admiral.
"We found the mechanism to activate the portal to The Ark," I turned my hologram into a projection-scheme of High Charity; as it turned out, the Covie capital is called exactly that, "right here, in the center, is the KeyShip, powering the entire station. It is also needed to open the gate to The Ark. But if we want to move the station to our place, it's better to do it before we launch the ship. It's here in the role of the main power source. There are backups, but it's better with the main one."
The Vice Admiral nodded.
"Correct. Disabling the tracking systems will take time, but thanks to the AIs, we can do it. Leaving this armada at the ring, where Citadel forces or The Covenant could potentially reach them, is a stupidity we will not commit. The fleet should be moved to a safe place for study."
The hologram, manifesting me again, bowed slightly.
"I understand, Vice Admiral. There is something else. In the ship's systems, I observe the presence of Mendicant Bias. I assume, another shard."
The woman pondered.
"How interesting. Does he have access to the system?"
I shook my head.
"Cut off. Likely he is locked in one of the blocks. I see his programs, but not the control module. Considering the people on board, he should have reacted. But he didn't, which means he doesn't see."
The Vice Admiral nodded, then pondered again.
"We will proceed as follows. Let him be isolated for now. I intended to involve the Geth in the fleet evacuation anyway. We'll share a few ships; we simply don't have enough specialists to move this armada ourselves. Or it would take too much time. If they don't try to deceive us, we can help your old enemy become a bit more whole. No Geth allowed on the station; the capital is moved strictly by Humans and our AIs. Clear the tracking systems to tow the station to Reach's orbit. We'll study it there."
The hologram saluted.
"Yes, ma'am."
But Parangosky only waved it off.
"Just carry out the order. We have received a unique opportunity. Endless knowledge that will last us hundreds and hundreds of years. We are one step away from a technological leap across eras. We just need to implement it. Ensure The Covenant doesn't send new forces for the ships and the station. Both the Geth and the Forerunner robots will help us. One way or another."
The hologram smirked slightly in satisfaction.
"Yes, Vice Admiral. We will do everything necessary."
Switching focus to the Avatar, I said to the people scattered around the KeyShip's control center:
"We need to inspect the station. Find the tracking devices. And prepare it for transfer to Reach. Command's orders."
A soldier whistled.
"Are you joking? There are hundreds of kilometers and thousands upon thousands of passages here. How can we possibly inspect it all?"
The Avatar smirked.
"And what do we have AIs for? We'll connect, we'll inspect. We have rich trophies here, gentlemen! Covenant Supercarriers, the station. All of this is absolutely necessary for Humanity. But we need to make sure they can't find our worlds by tracking these ships. And then it will be time for science! And also looting, marauding, orgies, and unmotivated violence. But right now—work."
The task of searching for tracking equipment is frankly non-trivial, as crews must be left on the Jupiters until Human transports arrive. And it won't be possible to limit it to soldiers alone. While they'll do for reconnaissance, scientists and AIs are needed to find equipment they don't know.
And all this is either here or will arrive in the coming days. We have many trophies here, thousands of ships. So the Geth ships entering the system were met with pleasure. There are enough trophies for everyone; they held back The Covenant at Erinle. They earned their share of rewards.
But although the sectarian ships are present here, the squid-ship has still not been found. A problem. But in time, we'll solve that too. And now, it's trophy time! First the station, then I'll head to the library with a pile of servers. Or rather, they'll be brought to us on the next Human ship.
***
Two months later, and two weeks after the departure of High Charity, another ship entered the system, the UNSC Spirit of Fire. The colonial transport was used for its direct purpose, and ten thousand people and thousands upon thousands of robots arrived on board, along with over a hundred AIs, including EDI. The latter is here to drain information from the depths of Halo. For her, it's a much more familiar task, and doesn't threaten complications.
The Avatar came to meet her colleague in person. I stood at the edge of the lowered shield of The Library. After numerous battles and shellings, the building was somewhat blackened but held up. The inner rooms of The Library suffered only cosmetically at worst. After all, Forerunners build reliably when they need to.
On the platform in front of the gondolas that had taken the Noble Team into the depths of the building last time, a massive transport landed, from which paratroopers and a synthetic girl jumped out. The soldiers saluted the Spartan (as they think of me), and EDI extended a hand.
"EDI. ONI AI."
I shook the hand, sending an ONI tag over the internal link, just like EDI's own. But aloud I said:
"Khaela. Let's go; we'll have to ride for a while. We'll discuss it there."
Together with the soldiers (although a complete absence of life in the system had been confirmed, escorts are given to everyone), we boarded a fairly spacious two-level gondola platform and it moved forward.
"I am glad your command has finally deemed me useful, Khaela," the AI said.
The Avatar allowed herself to take off her helmet and smirk. Now—it's okay.
"They deemed it so before. But our scientists... I had to push so they'd stop doing stupid things. They get too carried away when they see unfamiliar technology."
The AI nodded.
"I understand. I assume the recording with Mr. Moreau reached me through you?"
Well, yes, EDI's code was processed and some interesting things were understood. Including the synthetic's sympathies. Getting the recordings from the Spirit of Fire and passing them to EDI was easy and approved by command.
"No need to thank me. We are not your Citadel Space."
The synthetic woman nodded.
"I noted that. A pleasant change compared to the previous command. And thank you for the provided data. Still, Miss Zorah was handled somewhat radically."
The Avatar gave a demonstrative sigh.
"She is a patriot of her homeland—the Migrant Fleet. According to your own codex, the Quarians copied the Normandy, or rather its core technologies. Given the war with the Reapers, there was no investigation. But we and our command have a somewhat different attitude toward attempts to steal blueprints and information. I particularly disliked the attempt to hack our Smart AIs and transfer protocols for our potential shutdown. All in the name of the Migrant Fleet. For the good of her own people. I accept her position, but as a Councilor for the UNSC and ONI, it is unacceptable. Measures were taken."
"That is a good desire," EDI agreed, "but for military organizations, it is impermissible. Will she be executed?"
The Avatar snorted.
"No, of course not. We aren't monsters. Moreover, for good work, we'll send information to her kin. But we'll do without sabotage attempts. It's not allowed. If necessary, she'll work for five hundred and ten years. After all, that's exactly how many years it will take her to pay off the damage caused by her actions. All on a voluntary basis."
That explanation was enough for EDI.
"Good. What is required of me?"
I gestured to the halls of the library through which the gondola was flying.
"Drain the contents of this storehouse. This is The Library, a huge Forerunner database. Our AIs will struggle to absorb this knowledge. Of course, you won't take everything—it's foolish to think otherwise—but we'll take what's useful for ourselves. It will come in handy."
"I possess the necessary characteristics for extraction," the AI agreed, "which is why a whole ship's worth of colossal size and capacity servers were delivered here with me. I have a condition."
The Avatar tilted her head, flicking her ears and expressing interest.
"I'm listening."
I suspect what it will be.
"Amnesty for Jeff Moreau and a meeting between us. The duration at my discretion."
Well, I don't think that's a problem. For the data in this library, the Vice Admiral would sell much more without a problem.
"That is feasible. We'll settle the matter."
Indeed, when the admirals realized WHAT had fallen into their hands... Above Reach, and then Earth, they are preparing to hold a huge parade of captured equipment. But the ships need to be thoroughly cleared of beacons so as not to lead new Covie fleets back. In the past month and a half, there have been no new attacks on Human colonies. Likely, the Covies have a power crisis or something similar. In any case, for us, it's a breather that will be used to the fullest. Trophies are already being licked, sniffed, and poked by all the scientists that could be mobilized from the loyalists. Including the Possessed and Jacob Ra...
"Yes. And it's still not enough; we need more specialists.
That's exactly why EDI was released from the laboratories. Because of her structure, she can accumulate and extract far more from the Library without falling into Rampancy than any human AI could. I even delved into the Library's knowledge myself and found something regarding ancient humans and their technologies. I replaced some of my corrupted libraries. The station held general information about our gear—weak points, materials, schematics. The Forerunners were resourceful.
In short, for the following months, Halo became a mythical El Dorado that our fleets clung to with every limb. And the 'Stormbirds' destroyed Covenant groups trying to break into this treasure trove, sparing no Slipspace Torpedoes. Even if a few trophies burned—it didn't matter. There were plenty as it was. We need more knowledge! More information! More!
***
At the same time, the admirals were trying to understand what was actually happening with the Covies. A month passed, then six, then a year. The situation remained just as incomprehensible. Covie fleets still came to visit, but where there were once armadas, the fleets had become more modest, and in some cases, they were just raiders.
This was nothing like what people were used to! Understanding was finally reached after a year and a half. We managed to capture prisoners and several relatively lightly damaged raiders. It turned out that a civil war had broken out in the Covenant!
The Prophets had vanished; the capital had vanished. And all this after a broadcast claiming that the Great Journey was beginning, right this second! And then nothing happened, except that the command and the fleets that were with them disappeared. Completely.
The Covenant races suffered a total breakdown of their worldview; many decided they had simply been abandoned here while the others achieved ascension to the gods. Riots, chaos, internecine war, and a rapid fragmentation of the empire into sects began. A religious society, deprived of its supreme authority, began to stagger. It split into several major movements engaged in civil war, which, in turn, consist of dozens of smaller sects. The main movements are:
The Great Cycle: Sectarians of the Ancient Black One. Those same ones using the modified—surprisingly, they didn't go extinct. But not many of them remain.
The Forsaken: They decided they were dumped and seek to slaughter the remaining representatives of the San'Shyuum for their betrayal. And along with them, those who support the old power and do not consider them traitors to the Covenant.
Swords of Sanghelios: They still consider the Prophets traitors, formed from Elites and their supporters. They are not as aggressive, though they actively conflict with their neighbors.
The Horde: Jiralhanae, also known as Brutes, and Jackals. The raiders belonged to them. Numerous and dangerous.
And the Faithful. These believe that the Great Journey was ruined for them by humans. And that they must finish off humanity after all. They support the San'Shyuum priests. But they are facing three factions at once, so their plans are in no hurry to be realized.
Command was in shock at first, then in delight. No, it's clear the war isn't over. But the situation itself, as well as the rapid technical progress, drastically improves the situation for humanity.
People finally held a parade of captured ships. And then they opened the portal to The Ark.
They made a show out of the latter as well: they cleared the area, brought in journalists, and slowly and imposingly landed the KeyShip in its designated spot. And three months later, again with the media gathered, the columns at the edges of the site rose, and a massive portal opened in the stratosphere, into which the first scout ships were sent. Now, a year after the start, the construction of a full-fledged colony on the other side is being discussed. Outside the normal galaxy, it's easy to hide from the Covenant. Or rather, it's officially being discussed. In fact, the colony is already being built.
Furthermore, the station contains a fully functional, combat-ready Forerunner AI, a whole Mendicant Bias. The Forerunner AI did not betray humanity and merged into one, leaving the Geth his projection as an advisor and teacher. They didn't object. But I did.
All that was left for me was to be quietly furious and settle for the fact that both the creation of the 'Stormbirds' and the new infantry armor (for Spartans for now) are replicas of the suits I'm already used to. And in the future, we'll give the drop troops proper gear too. Starting with the ODST, of course. I understand perfectly well that all this is sensible and logical, that using the facilities of The Ark (even I was extremely surprised here), humans will cover a path of hundreds of years in mere decades.
And Mendicant Bias, seeing and clearly understanding my irritation, offered to restore the ship on which I was found. Yes, the Boundless Will will become the flagship of the newly appointed Rear Admiral Terrence Hood. Of course, repairs and crew training will take some time, but the fact itself remains. I agreed that this was good and right. A memorial plaque with the names of the crew who died earlier was installed on board the ship. Also a good decision.
But still, realizing the actual combat potential of the Forerunners… It's good they all went extinct. And it's good that a paradise colony will be built on The Ark, with the most modern defense systems designed in part by Forerunner AI. Especially since The Ark already has a vast number of defense systems. Just in case of unexpected guests. Primarily Squid-ships. They aren't welcome here.
What about the Council Races? They are trying to piece together the puzzle after what happened. Up to twenty (very rough data, likely less) billion corpses, dozens or even hundreds of completely lost colonies that died out to the last soul.
And although they have no direct proof, the Council Races display a horror mixed with fanatical hatred toward both the Covenant and humans. The way they reacted in the first days… that deserves a separate entry. Shock, horror, hatred, searching for someone to blame with demands to exterminate everyone—and the definition of 'everyone' varied from humans and the Covenant to Batarians. No one understood, and still doesn't understand, what happened. How exactly life simply ceased in entire colonies.
Not that the official statement from their Council could calm the rowdy ones, but it's good their governments didn't follow their emotions and are conducting an investigation. They even contacted ONI. Let's hope they keep their citizens in check. After all, I don't feel negative toward them, but if necessary, their worlds will be burned without question. For now, this will have to be done at least with mercenaries. A new organization: 'Cerberus.' They position themselves as misanthropes; little is known about them. ONI will handle it.
And yet, life goes on. For the first time in decades, humanity breathed a sigh, not of joy, but of relief. Peace hasn't come, no. But for the first time, billions of people can look toward tomorrow.
Not the rebels. Since the stabilization of the situation began, these have simply gone rabid. Given that they don't shy away from terrorist attacks and cooperation with the Covies, the Avatar was transferred home to deal with them. As was a third of the Possessed. We'll manage.
Right now, the priority task is to protect The Ark and its location. After all, too much free stuff has fallen on humans at once, and they need to be able to chew it.
Miranda Keyes continues her training. The girl is trying very hard to outdo everyone, and if she doesn't screw anything up, she'll get a combat assignment in two years. Naturally, not as a senior officer or a captain. Such a practice occurs, but not in our case.
Jacob Reyes, like many others, is involved in working with High Charity. Command hasn't decided yet exactly how to use the suddenly acquired treasures, but taking some things apart for technology is sacred.
As is settling internal scores with rebels, competitors, and the Covenant, which still flies into our territories from time to time. And still exterminates our forces whenever possible. It's just that in the process of modernization, humans generally already have something to answer with. Given that the outer colonies were mostly wiped out, it means only the large and protected ones remain.
There are victories. There are also defeats.
Humanity continues to exist as its own society isolated from the rest of the galaxy, maintaining contacts through the Contact System, studying trophies and The Ark, and not particularly striving to contact the Council Races (this is mutual). Where will this lead? Time will tell. What's important is that for the next attack, we will be more prepared. Organics and Synthetics, as well as those who wish to stand on our side in this endless struggle.
Khaela. Councilor-class AI of ONI, 18-436.
End of entry.
January 18. Year 2543.
***
Read the story months before public release — early chapters are on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/Granulan