Legacy of Onyx

by Matt Forbeck

  A video feed suddenly appeared in the wall, surprising all of them, before they realized that Prone had turned it on. The feed showed the Guardian towering over Trevelyan. It looked like an impassive angel hovering ominously above the city. From this angle, something about its sweeping lines and the vast difference in scale between it and everything around it seemed eerily beautiful.

  The Guardian sent a clear message to humanity from its creators. They were only insects in the face of such power.

  “Can you zoom in on that?” Kareem said. “Beneath the Guardian, I mean?”

  Prone to Drift flicked something with one of its tentacles, and the image on the screen changed to show the landing field on which Molly had first set foot inside Onyx. The shadow of the Guardian fell there, wide enough to blot out the sun for everyone who stood below it. Molly saw gunfire splashing off one of a squad of those Forerunner machines they’d seen earlier, who were blasting away with their energy weapons at UNSC soldiers offscreen. Seeing them up close was eerie. They looked and moved like humans, but had a highly advanced robotic architecture, impressively armored and clearly designed for war.

  “What are these, Prone?” Molly asked.

  “They are defensive armigers. Your people refer to them simply as Forerunner soldiers, and their purpose is to protect the Guardian upon its activation.”

  “Where did they come from?” Kareem asked. “It’s like all of a sudden there are thousands of them, just appearing from out of thin air.”

  “You are correct. They do come from out of thin air,” Prone said cryptically. “The Guardian uses translocation technology to draft them over from their hidden storage sites, sending them directly into the combat you see.”

  “Well, they’re still fighting,” Molly said. “It’s been hours, and the UNSC is still trying to stop these things.”

  “Where are those shots coming from?” Kareem pointed to weapons fire that came from a different direction. “Can you pull back a bit?”

  The view switched to show a completely different angle, covering the spaceport at a distance. It was a haunting sight. The marines stood alone on the platform, only a handful at the very center. The landing pad had been entirely overrun by Forerunner soldiers, and the marines were under fire from every direction. Every time a barrage of bullets knocked down one of the armigers, it seemed that another two stepped up into its place in a never-ending supply.

  “What are they doing?!” Kareem asked. “Those marines don’t have a chance of surviving out there, do they?”

  “It is certainly a low probability,” Prone to Drift said. “There are pockets of resistance throughout the city, much like this one. In a short time, much of Onyx’s security personnel will be either incapacitated or dead.”

  “We’ve got to do something to stop it!” Molly said. “Quickly!”

  “I am working as fast as I am able, Molly Patel. It is not an easy task.”

  “Did the Guardian take out the power in the entire shield world?” Gudam asked. “It’s such a big place, you know, that it’s hard to imagine that it could have affected everything.”

  “Most human activity in Onyx is centered in this region,” Prone said. “By design, the Guardian’s attack shut down everything inside of that.”

  “What about the researchers?” Molly said, thinking of her Newparents. “Some of them worked pretty far out in the field. Maybe they were far enough away?”

  “No researchers were outside of the attack’s radius of effect.” Molly’s heart sank at Prone’s report. “However, there was one ONI staff member who was on assignment at the time, and she was beyond the attack’s range.”

  “Who?” Molly’s heartbeat quickened.

  “You know her. She is named Spartan Lucy-B091. She took a single Pelican on a high-priority reconaissance mission.”

  “That’s right!” Kareem said. “She said she was going to investigate the portal leads, remember?”

  “Not that it does us much good now.” Gudam pointed to the screen. The armigers swarmed forward against the same group of marines, who fell back against the assault. “The Forerunners’ tech seems to be working fine. What’s one Pelican going to be able to do against that?”

  “One Pelican and a Spartan,” Molly corrected her.

  “Wait a second,” Kareem said. “How are we seeing this, Prone? I mean, how did you get the screen in this room to turn on at all?”

  “I fixed it. The pulse that the Guardian sent out shut down the power supplies for this entire region, but I set to repairing specific pieces right away. That is how I could check the school’s sensors, and that is how I can access this terminal. Restoring the power to a single room is simple enough, but there are many rooms in Paxopolis and many power sources.”

  “What about the cameras there? How are they working?”

  “There are other Huragok inside Onyx, including two others at Trevelyan. I can only assume they repaired the cameras there, and I was able to link into them. They also spent a great deal of time repairing weaponry there that the armigers have now destroyed.”

  “And you can also fix Onyx’s slipspace controls too?” Molly asked.

  “I have already done so. I only need to activate them to remove Onyx from realspace.”

  “And that will cut off the Guardian from Cortana?”

  “At least for a while. The Guardian is not without its own resources. I suspect that it would attempt to circumvent the dimensional problem and eventually be able to overcome my efforts and reestablish communications with Cortana.”

  “Then do it,” Molly said. “Cut off its communication to Cortana now.”

  The others all nodded in agreement.

  Prone to Drift massaged the console with all of its tentacles at once. The cilia on the end of them moved so fast that they seemed to dissolve into a glowing blur. After a moment, it retracted one of its tentacles and used it to speak through the translator on its underside again.

  “It is done. Observe.”

  The four youths stepped back to watch the scene at the spaceport again. The Guardian, which had been coursing with energy and power, still hovered there, but now it was inert and dead, completely frozen above the ground. A moment later, its wings, shoulders, and head slumped forward, and it remained that way, unmoving and seemingly dormant.

  Molly and the others cheered at the sight. Prone to Drift glowed a bit bluer than before, which Molly took to mean that it was pleased as well. As bad as this day’s events had been till now, Molly finally started to hold out hope.

  CHAPTER 27

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  The forward vanguard of the Servants of the Abiding Truth raced through the streets of the Forerunner city, chasing after the Huragok. Dural ‘Mdama might have lost it in one of the twists and turns if it had not kept itself so high in the air to avoid being forced to navigate between structures. Yet, that it did not have to follow the streets meant it could move much faster than them, and the Sangheili could barely keep sight of it.

  Eventually Dural and his vanguard found themselves in the newer part of town, the section built by the humans. The transition from Forerunner structures to human ones was bitter and grotesque. It seemed as if vandals had thrown up these new structures simply to prove how far beneath their betters they were.

  Eventually, they saw the Huragok rise up over a large building—the human school—and disappear. It did not come down on the other side, which could only mean one thing.

  “We have cornered it,” the Pale Blade said. “Now all we have to do is capture it.”

  “Perhaps,” Ruk said, “there are humans and even Sangheili within that building. They will fight to protect it.”

  “Then they will die in their efforts,” Dural said with confidence. “They have not detected our presence yet, and this is no fortress. Let us secure the perimeter and then make our ingress.”

  Dural had his team fan out in two different directions and make a circuit around the building. They kept ou
t of sight, moving from cover to cover, doing their best to make sure no one inside saw them. When they were done, the vanguard met at the edge of an open yard at the rear of the building. It was filled with what appeared to be recreation structures and game courts.

  “Ruk, do you recall our observation of this structure from afar?” Dural said. “What would the Huragok be doing at a school?”

  “I am more concerned with who might actually be in there with it. It could well be a trap, filled with demons.”

  “You worry like a doddering kaidon,” Dural scolded. “You would have us wait out here until our prey slips through our fingers. We must act now if we wish to seize that prize. It is the key to any success on this world.”

  The Pale Blade signaled for his warriors to ready themselves to charge the building, but he saw that Ruk was still hesitant to run headlong into the place. When planning from the protection of the Cathedral, Ruk had boasted that he longed to charge into the humans’ ranks and lay waste to them. Yet now, with victory within grasp, he faltered.

  Dural wondered why this commander had begun to take the path of the doubter, just like Buran. Will I have to deliver Ruk to the same fate? Why have the gods entrusted so many faithless worms to me? Despite Ruk’s weakhearted reluctance, though, Dural could see the wisdom of leaving someone behind to guard their rear, just in case enemies showed up to help whoever might be inside the school.

  Wordlessly, Dural gestured for two of his warriors to remain behind with Ruk. The rest came with him. He led the charge across the yard at full speed, barreling toward a transparent set of doors. As he and his warriors neared them, Dural blew them open with a rapid burst from his storm rifle, blasting the doors to pieces. The Pale Blade heard screams from inside, evidently just beyond another set of doors. The thought of humans cowering in terror spurred him on.

  Charging headlong, he braced his rifle in front of him and smashed through the second set of doors. They rent off their hinges and scattered across the floor as he burst into the room beyond.

  He found himself in a large space, high ceilinged and seemingly meant as some kind of communal dining area, if the food on the many tables inside was any indication. The room was packed with fledglings sitting at tables and a handful of adults watching over them. Most of them were human, but Dural spotted a significant number of Sangheili and even Unggoy among them.

  The sight made him furious.

  He fired a burst at the ceiling and shouted in Sangheili: “Everyone hold still!”

  Dural’s warriors marched in behind him and spread out, creating a perimeter and covering everyone in the room. He was astonished to see that none of the adults appeared to be armed. How foolish they were to think that they would be safe in such a place. How arrogant! Dural thought to himself.

  The Sangheili among them had forsaken everything their people had held dear and had become just like the self-assured treacherous human vermin, with no care for the necessity of securing one’s keep. He had expected as much. His whole plan had assumed such blatant absurdity.

  A human fledgling at the table nearest to him stood up and threw himself at the Pale Blade. Vengeance for some unknowable sin burned in his eyes, and he was not about to let Dural stop him from risking his life for it.

  He seemed so small that Dural could hardly believe the fledgling could even talk. For a moment, the Pale Blade considered stomping on him just to send a message to his fellows.

  Instead, Dural let the child strike his chest. The young creature bruised the knuckles of his rodentlike hand on the Sangheili’s armor, and Dural sneered, tightening his mandibles in response. That the human couldn’t injure the Sangheili only enraged him further, and he launched himself against Dural again.

  This time, Dural caught the fledgling’s hand in his own fist and squeezed it until he could feel the creature’s frail bones collapse into mush. The foolish child cried out in agony as Dural lifted him into the air with the same hand. Then Dural dropped him to curl up into a weeping ball at his feet. The child stared at his shattered fingers, and Dural watched as the rage in the boy’s heart turned to abject fear.

  The Pale Blade glared at the others in the room. None of them would stand a chance against his vanguard. Even if all of them charged at once, they would not have a prayer against his few warriors assembled here.

  What affirmed Dural’s confidence was that it was exceedingly clear that they all knew it too. Some of them cowered in sheer terror. Dural saw others staring back at them with calculating eyes, assessing their numbers and adding up their odds, but in the end, they all came to the same conclusion: to struggle against Dural’s forces would be to invite death.

  The adults reached that answer faster than many of their students. Some of the youngest humans in the room scowled at the Servants, but those in authority held them back, often by putting their own bodies in front of them.

  “I am the Pale Blade, leader of the Servants of the Abiding Truth. The first thing you must know is that I do not care if any of you survive. There is no parley you can offer me, nor any mercy that I might share. Rather, I would gladly slaughter you all—but I am not here for you.”

  A Sangheili female stepped forward and stood defiant before Dural. The children parted before her, not in terror but respect. They closed ranks behind her just as fast, moving in her wake for the protection she offered.

  “I am Kasha ‘Hilot,” the female said in perfect Sangheili. “And this is my school.”

  Dural had not met many people from Hilot before, but she fit the mold he had always had in his mind: a cosmopolitan female with more than a little pride in her education. The province of Hilot had supported the Arbiter during the Blooding Years, and Dural suspected that was one key factor in her acquiring this current role—that and likely her ability to rise to the fierce defense of her charges, no matter how unwise her cause might be.

  “What is it you want?” she demanded.

  As she spoke, Dural recognized her from the earlier incident at the hangar where they had missed their first chance to capture a Huragok. She was the one who had led the rafakrit away from the students. She struck Dural as both brave and stupid—an idealist, as the field master had once said.

  “I am here for your Huragok,” Dural said.

  The female narrowed her eyes at him. She knew Dural meant to capture the creature, and she wasn’t about to make it easy for him. “We have no Huragok here. This is a school. Take your filthy killers from this place of peace, and get out!”

  Dural flashed her all his teeth. “I hope you are a better teacher than you are a liar. I do not have much time to spare with this effort.”

  “Then go. You will not be missed.”

  Dural motioned toward one of his warriors. The soldier picked up the boy still whimpering on the ground, and Dural said one word in Sangheili: “Arm.”

  In a single, sharp move, the warrior snapped the boy’s arm completely in half. The human child let out an agonized scream as his fractured appendage flopped down at an unnatural angle.

  The fledglings in the room groaned and murmured in fear. Those who could understand his speech no doubt wanted to tell Dural where the Huragok was, even if the adults did not.

  Dural scanned the room again. It would be impossible for a Huragok to hide among these human children, but it was a large school. It would take far too long to search the entire place for the creature.

  Despite the power he exerted over these few, Dural suddenly felt exposed. While chasing the Huragok, he had left the bulk of his force far behind, in the middle of the city. It would not take a significant countermeasure to sever his group from the others completely and—more problematically—from the portal they needed to escape through.

  “I tire of this game already,” Dural said to Kasha ‘Hilot. “The next time I order one of my warriors to break something, it will be a neck.”

  The female gaped at him in distress. “There is a Huragok who comes to help here in the afternoons.” She glanced around t
he room. “On a normal day, it would have already reported in to me, but it has not.”

  “Your excuses shall not dissuade me. If you do not produce the Huragok within five seconds, I’m going to start killing these useless things one at a time.”

  Kasha reeled in shock. “You would execute innocent children?”

  “Innocent?” Dural enunciated every syllable of the word in Sangheili. “These are the offspring of the humans who have trampled the splendor and might of the Forerunners by setting up this abomination of a city here. They have pillaged and looted this world of its treasures, not for the glory of the gods, but for their own self-exaltation and in an attempt to subdue other species. I can see they already have you in their thrall.”

  “You are fools,” the female said to Dural’s warriors. “You follow a discredited faith, and you are led by a youth with no morals!”

  Dural’s warriors did not laugh at her, nor did they begin to rethink their loyalties. They did as they should have and showed her no reaction at all.

  Dural snarled at ‘Hilot and raised his hand to signal his warrior to snap the boy’s neck. “Your time is up.”

  CHAPTER 28

  * * *

  * * *

  A force of Sangheili warriors has breached the school,” Prone to Drift announced, immediately after having forced Onyx back into slipspace. A new image appeared on the screen, replacing the one of the dormant Guardian. The joy Molly had experienced in Prone’s cutting off the Guardian from its control spun so fast into despair that it felt like a knife being twisted in her gut.

  On the screen, they saw a small team of fully armed Sangheili slam through the dining-hall doors and burst into the room. The screams of Molly’s fellow students rang out so loud they could hear them echoing down the hallways of the school, even without any audio from the feed.