User:Dragonclaws/Ascension26

Hope
Rani slipped her data crystal chip into the holotank. Swallowing nervously, she glanced back at the prone form of Colonel Ackerson. The drug was supposed to last thirty to forty minutes, but should he have not inhaled the proper dosage… She didn’t want to think about it.

Running her fingertips over the activation sensor, she was greeted by the familiar stand-by image characteristic of her colonial friend Kamal: a grinning image of the Dog. Technical status information scrolled over the image, much of it hacker slang she didn’t recognize. The repurposed dumb AI was doing its job effectively, however, which was all she cared about at the moment.

The stand-by image vanished, to be replaced by Melissa’s avatar. The smart AI preferred an idealized feminine form, that of a buxom woman, perhaps in her late twenties, with long flowing hair and a deep golden sheen broken only by black lines and patterns running through her body. Though she was technically nude, the AI had smoothed over certain physical aspects, making her strictly PG.

“Thank you, Rani,” Melissa exclaimed as she entered the server via the gateway application. “I’m online, wide awake, physical and copying my primary data structure… Copy complete.”

“Melissa, Ackerson had his dumb AI purge nonessential files and encrypt the rest,” Rani said, getting right to the point. “He knew we were coming.”

“Hmm?” the AI raised an eyebrow. “Good… My job’s simpler, then. I know right where to look.”

She smiled at Melissa’s traditional cockiness. It was comforting knowing that the AI felt on top of things and in control. Like she had suspected, Ackerson and Hanno had no idea of what they were up against.

“Scanning,” Melissa intoned as she accessed the data, her eyes flicking back and forth as though reading. “Okay, I see the encryption. Cute, really. Hmmm… Okay, a little tricky. Maybe if I… There! I’m in.”

“You think Ackerson’s sympathetic to the rebel forces?” Rani asked, recalling the way he had allowed Duffy’s presence in orbit. The man himself had expressed fear of Section Zero investigating him for that very reason.

Melissa cocked her head in consideration. “Well, nothing in these files to suggest so… Nothing to count it out either. The focus seems to be more on the Forerunner artifacts: the Monitor, the Sentinels, the ship…” She halted in midsentence, her eyes widening. “Hang on…” Her head turned away, the features of deep concentration visible on her face.

“Melissa?” she questioned. She glanced back at Ackerson again, finding him just as immobile as when she had last looked. “Melissa, what is it?”

The AI looked up as if she had forgotten Rani’s presence. Her eyes were filled with wonder. “Daaamn! The ship… The Forerunner ship…” She held up her hands and produced an image of the four-pronged vessel between them.

Rani nodded. “Ascension,” she supplied the name.

Melissa nodded slowly. “Ascension,” she agreed, her eyes literally twinkling like glitter. “I-it holds a secret… something… something very interesting. Invaluable if this is correct.”

“It could help us win the war?” she asked. “You’re talking about a weapon, like the Halos? Hopefully not as destructive…”

“No,” the AI shook her head. “The Halos destroy life. This… if it’s real… if Ackerson hasn’t made a mistake somewhere… This protects it.”

“It heals?” she asked. “So, it’s like a medical facility?”

“More like the ambulance to take you to the medical facility,” Melissa explained. “Ascension’s true purpose is to transport its crew to a hidden Forerunner installation. Once there, according to this, you… you don’t die. According to this,” she stressed, “The Forerunner installation can make you… well, immortal.”

“Immortal?” she exclaimed in a whisper. The suggestion was outlandish, impossible, but… “Seriously? You… Oh, Lord.” If it was possible…

“The Monitor calls the installation Heaven,” Melissa continued, raising an eyebrow at the name. “The Covenant also seem to reference it as their ‘Divine Realm’, although it’s hard to separate true science from their religious mythology.” Her hologram displayed her running a hand through her hair as if an absentminded-trait, although it was almost certainly a deliberate action. “There’s also reference to it as the shield to the sword of the Halos.”

“Heaven…” she mumbled. “Oh my God…” The religious significances of the Forerunner installations were obvious, and if it was possible that the Bible could have referenced, not mythological items of faith, but true distorted visions of physical locations… She didn’t want to think about the potential implications.

“Hmm.” Melissa smirked with approval. “Looks like Ackerson meant to keep this little discovery from HIGHCOM. Should be grounds for permanent comatose.”

“Good,” she said with a good bit of loathing. She had thought her old enemy Major Standish was the lowest a man could get, until she worked with Colonel Ackerson. Standish was only corrupt and power-hungry… Ackerson completely gave her the heebie-jeebies.

“It goes without saying that WANDERER will take great interest in our discovery,” Melissa said with a chuckle. “Immortality… It makes Ascension valuable indeed.”

“To everyone,” she added, the wonder of it starting to leak into her mind. If it was possible that there was no afterlife, then… that just made this life that much more important. Everyone should have this gift… “Melissa! Everyone should be able to take advantage of this! My God, think of the possibilities! No more death. It’s like the gateway to Galactic Peace!”

“Slow down, now, Rani,” the AI cautioned, holding up a hand. “We’re still in a war, after all. If the word gets out now, it will be total chaos. Everyone will be trying to get Ascension to use it for themselves or destroy it as a heresy or something. The UNSC is doing their best to retain control of the Ark…” she trailed off, focusing intently. “Oh, no… Ascension is currently in the hands of the Gravemind!”

“The Gravemind?” Rani swallowed, seething with hate for the mass-murdering alien menace. “Flood? Immortal Flood? Jesus Christ, this can’t be happening…”

“Don’t worry, Rani,” Melissa said, smiling in an attempt to comfort her. “The Flood aren’t in Heaven yet, and from what it looks like it’s a pretty complicated process to actually get there. For one thing, Heaven isn’t even in realspace. It’s in Slipspace. The Forerunners somehow managed to erect a permanent bubble within the folds of the universe. It’s a perfect hiding place because it’s impossible to get to unless you know exactly where it is, and even then Heaven’s security protocols will only allow Ascension to enter.”

“And here I thought Ascension’s name referred to the way it moves,” she said with a weak chuckle. She was completely overwhelmed by the revelation, and humor came naturally. Immortality… It wasn’t even something she knew how to think about. Not in a concrete physical way. Her thoughts went to the scientists who first studied the quanta – a whole world of illogical behavior. She wondered if her stumbling thought processes echoed theirs, a resonating confusion at the ever-expanding levels of illogic making up the nature of the universe.

“And to even get Ascension to take you there,” Melissa continued, “You need… well, not coordinates… There’s no space in Slipspace… But instructions, rather, to tell the computer what to do. And the Forerunners didn’t just write them down in one place. No, they broke it into several different parts, which they protected in different locations all throughout the galaxy. The UNSC currently has three of the seven parts. Ackerson thinks the Covenant have more. If the Flood don’t have the full set of instructions, they can’t use Ascension. Moreover, Ascension’s at the heart of a massive battle. The fate of the universe is still undecided.”

She started shaking. “Melissa?”

“Yes, Rani?” the AI questioned.

“Do you think there can be a way out?” she asked, half unsure what she was saying. She continued speaking, hoping to get the message across. “There’s been so much death… so much suffering… Can there be a way out of it all? Can the ship… Can Ascension… take us free?”

Melissa seemed to understand. “I don’t know, Rani,” she said simply. “I don’t know if any of it is possible.”

“We have hope, though,” she noted.

“Yes.”

***

Sergeant Major Avery Johnson wiped the grime from his face. The battle to control Mombasa was as good as won. Whether or not ONI had sent him there to die, he supposed they owed him a medal now.

He frowned as he scanned the horizon. Something had changed. He knew that much at least.

As he contemplated the change, whatever it was, he felt a strange numbing sensation in the back of his mind. It felt like… Flood. He could remember it vividly, how the Infection Form buried its tentacle inside him. He had felt that numbing feeling then and it was back.

He shook his head, trying and failing to rid himself of that awful feeling. PTSD flashback? he wondered. There was something else too.

Something was pulling at him, deep inside him. Some powerful force. He knew he needed to go somewhere, to do something. Something important.

A sign from God? Or PTSD madness? He wasn’t sure he was supposed to know. It didn’t matter anyway. He would go regardless. He had to.

His mouth opened, moving as if by the will of another. Not true, of course. He was in control. He was calling over his partner in crime. “Sergeant Reynolds!” Still… The Marine headed over at a brisk pace, his assault rifle held loosely at his side. Johnson noticed an unusual laziness to the man’s gait, and had to wonder at his background. Reynolds had a contact in HighCom that had managed to send a Spartan to save them. That spoke of bizarrely unregulated power and influence. ''Could he be ONI? An agent of some individual nation?''

Johnson shook his head. It did no good to speculate right now. Now was the time for action. “Sergeant Reynolds,” he said as Reynolds approached, “I got to go… do something that needs to be done. You got a Hog I can use?”

“Sure thing,” Reynolds nodded. “Where you headed? Nairobi?”

He shook his head. That wasn’t it. He needed to go somewhere particular. “That way.” He pointed to the northwest. “Hundred and fifty clicks or so.” The distance just came out of his mouth, but it felt right.

“Hundred and fifty,” Reynolds repeated. “That’d take you up near Voi. Covenant ship landed there. Causin’ one hell of a disturbance from what I can glean on the COM. Sure you wanna take a Hog up there?”

He nodded slowly. He was sure. He needed to do it. It was the right thing to do. “The ship…”

“Big white Tokyo Tower sorta thing,” Reynolds supplied.

That was the Forerunner ship. That meant that the Ark was up there near Voi. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Humans were Reclaimers, after all. It had to be some Forerunner thing drawing him to that place. “Ascension,” he spoke the name of the vessel. “Prophet of Truth’s ship. Yeah… Yeah, that’s right. Ascension. Gonna take on the top Covies. You up for a little payback?”

Reynolds gave him a look like he thought Johnson was out of his mind. “Shen jing bing!” he exclaimed in Chinese. “You survive the bloodiest massacre there ever been seen under Sol, and you wanna charge headlong straight into another? You either got a death wish or one hell of a god complex!”

He sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. He was tired. He was anxious. He had a feeling deep inside of him, a tug, a… pull, something he couldn’t ignore. He was so tired of all this shit. The end was in sight. “Am I gonna have to pull rank on you?” he growled, opening his eyes to glare at the sergeant.

Reynolds raised his eyebrows. “Pull rank?” he asked incredulously. “You mean make me conform to the legal system? Wake up, Johnson! We left legality behind a long time ago.”

He winced. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Okay, so we’re not playin’ by the rules. Maybe ONI wants us dead. The facts remain. We are servants of the United Nations, of Earth and all her colonies! We serve, if not our superiors, the good fortune of every human on this rock. Now, I guarantee you that where Ascension is, that is the battle to decide the fate of the war.”

Reynolds nodded slowly. “The final battle…” he mused.

''He’s considering it. Just a little more encouragement.'' “I have to be there,” he stated. “Be there when it all goes down. Every able-bodied soldier needs to give it their all. We just might be the drops of water that start the flood. You talk about faith. Well, I say you put your faith in this: Humanity must prevail; we must do what we can to win the day. Even if we die in the fight it would be worth more than running away and getting burned when the hammer falls, as it sure as hell will should we lose. Still, I plan to take out my share of Covies before the reaper comes lookin’. What do you say, Reynolds? Wanna save the world?”

The soldier gave a slow goofy grin. “I say… you’re my kind o’ stupid.”

He smiled, knowing he had won this argument. The war was still raging on, though, and its fate had yet to be decided.

“Cobb!” Reynolds called out. “Get the Hog! We’ve got a date with destiny!”

Johnson chuckled. He was glad Reynolds was on his side. Destiny… Yeah, that was it. He truly felt like destiny was calling him. It’s my destiny.

***

Chryses examined the wreck with his long-range camera display. The Albatross was intact, consistent with hypothesized electromagnetic damage as a result of the nearby detonation of the nuclear device in Tokyo. He ran a scan on the occupants, picking up the IFF transponders of Naoko Yukimura and Kiyoshi Motou. No sign of Rais Kader.

Chryses’ orders were clear, however. The AI couldn’t discriminate. Writing up a report to Alpha-6, he maneuvered the Crab into place.

Survivors were to be rescued, regardless of status. He would pull the downed craft to the surface and drag it to Shanghai. Master Oshiro would have to be satisfied with that.

***

“The Unggoy have our fleet in disarray,” Ship Master Numitor growled. “The vermin own the Ark… and Ascension lies in the hands of the Flood. All of this occurred under Sangheili command of the fleet. Under your command.”

The Jiralhanae Ship Master of the Bright Beacon had expressed a wish to discuss important matters with the Arbiter, to which the Arbiter had agreed. As it was unclear how secure any facet of the Covenant battlenet could be, the Arbiter had arranged for Ship Master Numitor to be brought to the Enlightened Soul in a carefully protected Phantom. Even then, they had lost two Seraphs to the Unggoy during transit.

“It is true,” he admitted. “However, one must take into account the unexpected betrayal of the Unggoy, for long have they been our loyal servants…”

“They were not always so loyal!” Numitor snapped. “What of the Unggoy Rebellion? Did you forget all about the Arbiter created and consumed by such a terrible assault on the Covenant when you imbued an Unggoy with power over all its fellows?”

“I did not ‘forget’,” he said. “It was very present in my mind when I made the mistake of sparing its life when I first had the chance. I believed that our separatist movement could be a loyal brotherhood to transcend past conflicts, and I admit I was mistaken. However, my choices, as misguided as they sometimes were, are the reason that the Covenant’s destruction came to pass.”

“And for that we can be grateful,” Numitor nodded. “But! I must contest the notion that the Sangheili are best suited to dealing with this crisis. Make no mistake, Arbiter, there is not one, but two dominant species whose fate should be determined by this battle – and still others aside, should the Ark be mishandled by those that dwell within! The Jiralhanae are mighty warriors, Arbiter.”

“I understand that,” the Arbiter acknowledged. “However, I do object with what I believe you are to be implying – that the Jiralhanae take an active role in the command of this fleet. The Chieftain of the Jiralhanae was slain in combat. Until he is formally replaced, there can be no true leader of your kind…” He trailed off.

Numitor was shaking his head. “Consus was an anomaly. Our hierarchy allows for the death of the High Chieftain should there be no triumphant alpha. Until he is formally replaced, my people can function under the rule of a lesser Chieftain in the fleet, such as that of Chieftain Cepheus of the Ambitious Neophyte.”

“How kind of you to name a particular Jiralhanae as the leader of your people,” he said dryly. “Chieftain Cepheus will surely be gracious in response.”

There was a pause, and then the Jiralhanae grinned. “Yes, yes…” Numitor waved his hand dismissively. “I do have political aspirations. You would be correct about that. It doesn’t matter. The point of the issue remains sharp and evident. I represent a significant portion of your fleet that believes the Arbiter should no longer be responsible for the fate of the Jiralhanae who oppose the Covenant. It is my strong suggestion that you allow for a public, voluntary shift in power… or the situation could rapidly sink out of the control of rational beings like you and I.”

“Control…” the Arbiter mused, intertwining his mandibles in an expression of disgust. “It would appear control is hard to keep…” It had once been so simple, he was sure of it. Now politics poisoned everything. “Politics,” he quoted the 123rd, “How tiresome.” The Prophet was an oppressor, evil, but so correct in that one statement at the barest minimum.

“It is surely a beast hard to tame,” Numitor agreed. “Take my advice, Arbiter. Give us a leader of our own to reassure the Jiralhanae warriors that you are not denying them their agency as a people separate from the dominion of Sangheili. And then give us the lead in the struggle against the Unggoy revolt. Sangheili honor so often gets in the way of Jiralhanae power, which is doubtlessly more efficient.” He sarcastically bowed his head in an exaggerated mockery of a submissive display as if to evade punishment resulting from his insolence.

The Arbiter sighed. Like Consus, this Numitor was also quite the malapert, a trait he could care to do without. He returned his thoughts to the concern at hand. “It is true that this is a moment of extraordinary crisis,” he agreed. This was the battle to decide the fate of the universe. “Before I was sent out against the alleged ‘heretics’ who occupied the planet Threshold, the High Prophet of Mercy told me that ‘there will always be moments of crisis when honor matters less than swift resolution.’”

“The High Prophet spoke wisely,” Numitor said with a nod. He knew he was winning. “Our warriors know this lesson well. They will strike out with passionate fury and slay the Unggoy menace.”

“The Prophets are cruel oppressors,” he said. “But the art of war was no stranger to Mercy.” He sighed. Such is the hour when we must take advice of villains. “Very well,” he agreed. “Let us see what might the Jiralhanae can offer.”

Numitor grinned brilliantly, a smile filled with predatory teeth. “It will be a might powerful enough to destroy the Unggoy uprising,” he promised. “That, I can assure you. The Jiralhanae people will be most grateful, Arbiter. Your popularity shall improve, I believe, past any point in which assassination will be sought. Gods forbid.”

He smiled politely. “For that I can be grateful, Ship Master.” He wondered if Numitor would have attacked should he have refused. It did seem that he was unable to trust anyone, alien or Sangheili.

Their discussion concluded, he politely dismissed the Ship Master. The Arbiter assured him that he would indeed allow for a power shift under these extreme circumstances. Numitor was quite pleased and left swiftly.

When he was left alone, the Arbiter let out a great sigh. Nothing was going the way it should. He was following the advice of villains.

The Prophets, for all their evil, were quite learned in the practice of maintaining control. Like ‘Lafatee, he could see the value in utilizing their techniques. The Arbiter had incited rebellion, not because of these techniques, but because of the Prophets’ evil… and stupidity. Surely it would be ethical if wielded by Sangheili, who would act in service of goodness?

He shook his head then. No! It would not do to excuse such tyranny purely with the belief that it would be used for good. Even the Prophets must have thought themselves good.

But then there was the issue of the Unggoy. After their initial uprising, the Prophets had thoroughly assured their submission by restricting their food to only what they mandated, and greatly limiting their education. By undoing the Hierarchs’ will, the Arbiter had unwittingly released a horrible fury that was tearing his fleet apart.

The Prophets are wicked, but… He sighed. I probably should have left the Unggoy bound to their Milk.

He felt sick, as though he would vomit to purge his body of toxins. He was sure that he had just tasted the flavor of evil. Sentence a whole species to bondage? Was anything worth that? Securing the Ark is worth it.

“No…” he said softly, a twisted moan that reverberated in his throat and in his head. He thought of sweet innocent Jitji and the vile traitor he became. He felt weak, disgusted, and so so tired.

He walked over to the bulkhead and leaned up against it, resting his head on his forearm. He was tired of everything. He felt like he could take his gun and put it to his head, and… No. Never that.

Life was precious. There was no afterlife. He needed to maintain discipline.

Never that.

***

Jitji carefully eyed the console. Split-connector, mauve, he decided, choosing the Forerunner glyph that hopefully would deactivate the threshold sound from the door. He could not afford to take any chances. God had brought him back to life for a reason, and he would hardly be serving his master through allowing himself to be slain once more.

He had managed to sneak his way into a methane pit before the Sangheili closed them off entirely. Along with a plasma pistol, he had taken a spare suit of the lowest rank to hide his identity should he be discovered. God transfigured his lungs to make them capable of breathing the deadly oxygen, but methane still tasted better

It had been a perilous trek around the starship, but he found his way to the aft-port launch bay. He now had to make it to an aircraft and then…

He paused. The Ark was the obvious destination. From there he could continue to conduct his revolution, inspiring all Unggoy and giving them the conviction to defeat their enemies… But there was something else. Something was calling him…

He shook his head. He needed to get free of the cruiser. After that, he could choose where to fly. The important thing right now was to make it to an aircraft.

He returned his attention to the console. ''Where is it? Where is it? Ah!'' He selected a cobalt blue glyph representing speed and tapped it twice, causing it to rotate 180 degrees. Yes. He lifted his hand, straining his arm to place it at the very top of the vertical strip. Lightly touching the strip, he stroked it down very slowly.

Silently, the door slid open. He let it stop when the crack was just wide enough to see through. He quietly approached the door and peeked inside.

There was a bit of a commotion in the launch bay. A Jiralhanae Ship Master was being escorted into a Seraph by guard Jiralhanae. Several Sangheili were present as well.

I can use this, he thought, noting the Banshees docked nearby. The previous unit he would have considered this scenario impossible, but a lot had changed since then. He had God on his side, and God had given him a great gift.

He removed his methane tank and set it beside him, careful to keep the air from escaping. Oxygen was no longer a danger to him. His renewed life alone only reached into the depths of this miracle, and did not even scrape the bottom.

Returning to the console, he slipped the door open further, just enough for an Unggoy to fit through. Breathing shallowly to keep from being heard, he slowly pushed the methane tank through the door and into the launch bay. Thus far undetected, he lay flat on the ground and crawled out, pushing the tank in front of him.

A Sangheili Minor glanced around, his head swiveling around on his serpent neck.

Jitji froze.

The Sangheili took two steps toward him. He paused, examining Jitji’s still form. Then he approached curiously, his guard down.

So it will be a Sangheili to start it off then? He quickly amended his plans. Good, he thought with loathing. The Sangheili deserve to be slain.

He held his breath, looking for all appearances like a dead Unggoy body that had somehow become separated from his tank.

The Sangheili gave him a light prod with his foot.

Jitji willed himself not to react. Instead, he lay motionlessly on the floor. Be as dead.

After a moment, the Sangheili turned and began to walk back toward the group of Sangheili who were watching the Jiralhanae. The instant that his head turned away, Jitji scampered backwards, crawling back for the doorway.

The Sangheili turned back. His eyes widened as they beheld something that should have been impossible. His mandibles spread as to give voice to the incredible sight.

Jitji snapped up his plasma pistol, charged up a shot, and fired. The glowing green ball smashed into the methane tank, causing it to explode. A brilliant protrusion of fire cascaded outwards, catching the Sangheili Minor and causing him to be thrown up into the air. He then fell tumbling to the ground, where he landed with a shuddering thump.

The Sangheili roared. They waved their weapons and sought for their attacker. And though their eyes swept over the motionless form of Jitji, never did they suspect this dead Unggoy responsible.

It was a Major armed with a plasma rifle that made the first shot. A stream of plasma streaked from his rifle to catch the Jiralhanae Ship Master in his chin. It was the falling pebble to start the landslide.

The Jiralhanae roared back at the Sangheili, bringing up their grenade launchers. Soon both parties were engaged in a brutal fire fight. All the while, Jitji crawled his way slowly but surely to the Banshees.

When he reached the one nearest to him, he carefully stood to push open the hood. As it rose, he caught the eye of the Jiralhanae Ship Master, lying wounded in a pool of blood. Jitji had been detected.

The Jiralhanae, however, had suffered extensive injury. His face had been scorched by the plasma, so much so that his jaw had melted off. Unable to speak, the Jiralhanae instead let out a horrible moan, desperately trying to attract attention.

No one else had noticed Jitji, though. The Jiralhanae couldn’t really do anything. It must be humiliating, he thought with fascination, wondering if he should dispense mercy through slaying the Jiralhanae outright. No, he told himself. I must escape.

He climbed into the Banshee, closing the hood over him. Okay, he thought as the controls lit up, Let’s do this.

Activating the aircraft, he felt it lift off the ground. He tapped another glyph to bring up the viewer, just in time for the Banshee to slam into the shield. Great, he thought with a sigh as damage indicators scrolled by. I get it damaged before I even leave the launch bay.

The Sangheili and Jiralhanae now noticed the Banshee. Jitji quickly performed a barrel roll to evade a fired grenade. Seeing the opening in the shield, he diverted all power to the engines. With the sudden boost of energy, Jitji soared out of the ship and entered Earth’s sky.

Jitji was initially overwhelmed by the sudden flood of data that swept across the controls. There was the ship, Enlightened Soul. There were several nearby ships. There was the Ark, its powerful beam of energy streaking into orbit. There was Earth’s star sinking past the horizon. There was that feeling of longing deep within him, telling him that his destiny was somewhere out there…

He dropped the Banshee, sailing low to slip down under the ship toward the Ark. His destiny could wait for the time being. He needed to see Gedeg, to let this miracle become known. All Unggoy needed to know that he was blessed, that he was God’s instrument. No Unggoy would defect knowing that this revolution was indeed God’s will.

***

“Gedeg! Gedeg!”

Gedeg turned from the Majors he was teaching about Sangheili weaknesses to regard the young Minor running up to him and shouting his name. “Yes, what is it?”

“Skittery thing!” the Minor cried. “Come from air! Flying thing too. You come; I show.”

Gedeg quickly followed the Minor as he scampered through the great corridors, the confused Majors trailing behind them. The various Unggoy occupying the halls stood to attention as he passed, including those of equal rank – being a favorite of the prophet had its advantages. He stopped dead when he saw the being that the Minor had described as ‘skittery’.

A sleek silver automation shaped like an enormous bug was walking nimbly across the floor, its movements as graceful as running water. Though its color did not match the dark Prussian blue of its surroundings, that the machine was constructed by the same makers was unmistakable. Forerunner.

Gedeg shivered. For all his life, he had worshiped the Forerunner and all their creations… until now. When Jitji had delivered his prophecy, he realized the true horror of the race. The Forerunner had been limitlessly arrogant, strident in their belief that they were superior to all others, and so had given shape to the monstrous form of the Flood. Now one of their creations was treading through the halls of the Ark.

“You see!” the Minor cried. He stabbed a fist into the air. “Above too!”

Gedeg raised his head and saw what the Minor was talking about. A metal machine, this one clearly Human in build, was hovering over their heads. Studying it, he figured out that it used a serious of rapidly rotating fans to gain thrust and maintain its position. The front of it was adorned with three circular objects. The largest was a teal convex dome resting inside a parabolic dish, while the second was a transparent disc that reflected the light, and the last was a bright emitter of light.

It is a probe, he presumed. It would capture images through the center disc, the lens, using the reflected light from the emitter. The large circle in its parabolic dish was probably an audio or radio sensor of some sort.

“This is a Human probe,” he announced. Returning his gaze to the silver machine, he made a derisive exhalation. “With a Forerunner machine.”

The Humans were using Forerunner tools freely. That knowledge made him jittery. They had allied with a species that used instruments of Forerunner sin. True, perhaps the Humans could wield it without falling prey to the evil that its makers bore, but then again, what if they could not?

“Leave it be,” he said aloud. He had to trust that the Humans would stay faithful. It had been Jitji’s desire that they be allied and, God willing, Gedeg would follow his revelation to the death. Which one would hope would be long ahead in the future.

Giving the Forerunner automation another look, he returned his gaze to the Majors. He would have to continue his lesson, of course. It made sense to do it here, where the Humans could observe and understand what he was doing to promote their revolution.

“The Sangheili,” he began, “Are nothing if not devoted wholly to the causes for which they fight. That is why we must not only stand to meet their devotion with our own conviction, but surpass it with our intelligence and our strength. Yes, the Sangheili are strong of muscle, but we vastly outnumber them. With the power of technology, of plasma weaponry, we can kill them! We can kill them all!” He raised his plasma rifle in the air and fired a single shot toward the ceiling.

His fellows cheered. They knew he spoke the truth. Jitji had shown him that truth.

A feeling of love filled him up inside. He loved Jitji, who had shown him true greatness. Jitji was a hero, one just like the old heroes of which Gedeg’s mother had always spoken. Jitji had given him a real reason to exist, a reason to fight, and to hope.

Now Jitji had gone back with the Arbiter to the ship, where certain death awaited him. He had chosen to keep the façade up as long as possible to give his fellows the ability to launch their attack. He had sacrificed his own life to deliver his people from their bondage. Gedeg could think of no truer example of a hero.

“Let us honor Jitji,” he then declared. “Our prophet… Our hero…”

“We will forever honor Jitji, who showed us the way,” agreed a Major named Worow.

His fellows all began to mutter their own praise for the prophet. Gedeg recognized that they were encouraged both by him and by the presence of the probe. They were displaying devotion partially brought forth by the knowledge that there was a Human audience that would potentially be awed by their piety. This made him glad that the probe was here, for it would thus assist Jitji’s message through instilling it into the hearts of his warriors.

The probe watched them well.

***

Masuyo Yamamoto glanced away from the stream of data on the Grunts to focus on the excited speculation pouring in from ONI’s top xenoarcheologists regarding the Forerunner structure. Yes, yes, oddly familiar, she agreed, chewing her bottom lip absently. She was starting to get a hunch about those strange markings inlaid in the Ark walls.

“Dog…” she muttered under her breath, summoning one of her avatars. She owned several, each serving a particular purpose, meeting specific moods. Usually she enjoyed funny, cute, or sexy avatars, but for the moment she just needed an intellectual assistant. Out of all her avatars, the Dog would serve that purpose best.

The anthropomorphic canine hologram flickered into being above the holotank attached to her desk. “Yes, Milady?” the dumb AI asked with the characteristic Russian accent possessed by the figure he represented. “How may this humble servant come to your aid?”

She supposed her avatar was a bit too submissive to be an accurate representation of the Dog, but she didn’t care enough to change it. The ego stroke it gave her was enjoyable enough. It felt especially reassuring in light of the constant fear that descended into her bones since the Covenant assault began. “Take the patterns of the Slipspace anomalies detected in the last day and overlay them with the aesthetic patterns on the Ark,” she ordered.

“Milady, I am but a dog,” the avatar protested, the image licking its paw and smoothing out its shaggy blue fur. “It would take a rainstorm or perpetual heat—”

“Shut it,” she snapped, tired as hell. “Override command twenty-six. Revert to primary functions.”

The avatar froze. The Dog body vanished, replaced by the default human male. “Reconditioning overridden,” the avatar said calmly with the standard American accent.

“Execute last instruction,” she ordered.

“Instruction executed. Running process now.”

While the dumb AI was working on that, she flipped over to the study of the Forerunner message recorded from Daniel’s Tomb. The language was definitely related to the Prophet language, and translation of the verbal speech was easier than the written hieroglyphics. It was about Slipspace and it was incomplete. ONI consensus was that the message would only make sense once it was given context…

A flash of red drew her attention back to the Grunts. Priority markings illuminated the video footage. All experts on xenobiology were to focus all effort on…

She frowned. That couldn’t be right… She zoomed in.

“What the hell?”

***

Gedeg could not believe his eyes. “Jitji?”

His friend stood before him, wearing no breathing equipment of any kind. The Unggoy smiled and nodded. It was Jitji, blessed with a miraculous gift that defied logic and reason.

“God-touched,” he whispered. He reached out a hand to touch Jitji’s form, to reassure himself that this was not some illusion, some enemy hologram projected to deceive him. His fingers brushed Jitji’s cheek…

A tingle ran through him like electricity. Jitji was real. He was breathing oxygen, taking in the poisonous gas and replacing it with dark brown puffs spat out into the air. This Unggoy… was the most beautiful sight his eyes had ever beheld.

“Beautiful blessed Jitji,” he muttered aloud. “Returned to us from life beyond…”

Jitji smiled, bringing his hand up to cradle Gedeg’s own.

“Can you speak?” he asked, cocking his head curiously.

Jitji shook his head in a denial.

“You don’t need to speak,” he assured him. “Your presence is enough.” For the first time since Jitji’s reappearance, he took his eyes off Jitji and looked around at the Unggoy freedom fighters, all staring at Jitji with awe. “You give us hope. We know now, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that God is watching over us! This fight is holy! God has blessed us by giving us Jitji, so we may know the reality of his influence!”

The warriors let out a cheer. Jitji had given their lives meaning. Gedeg just smiled, knowing that he had seen Jitji’s value before everyone else. Jitji was a blessed Unggoy.

They would win.

***

John carefully gaged the distance. He jumped. His boots smacked down on the tip of Ascension’s highest leg. The momentum caused him to skid slightly, but he raised his arms and quickly regained balance.

The Ark’s activation had stopped, at least for now. In the pause of their collective sigh of relief, the Grunts had attacked. The skies, stormy and lit up with the flare of the Ark, were filled with violence. Ships and fighters of all kinds waged war on each other, both sides fighting for dominance. And Ascension lay still and half-forgotten, the Flood thriving within.

He slowly and carefully made his descent toward the entrance. He was left without orders. Cortana had vanished with the appearance of the energy beam, her final words a quote about the end of the world. His duty at this point seemed clear. He would defend the UNSC through keeping the Flood contained in the vessel, never allowing them to leave to infest Earth.

A lone Banshee circled the air above the entrance, letting out a periodic blast of fuel rod to incinerate the Flood that got near the opening. It was not the only defender, however. A team of Elites dressed in unfamiliar armor with a rounded shape stood guard, one operating a plasma turret.

It wasn’t enough.

“Demon!” exclaimed one of the Elites in a respectful tone.

He nodded his head, approaching the opening. Raising his gun, he peered inside. The Forerunner aesthetics notably had been marred by the growth of Flood tissue, covering the walls like moss. As he watched, a tentacle whipped around the corner and reached toward the outside like a snake.

“Chief!” Cortana’s voice came back, hard and clear. The AI was alarmed, a sense of fear reverberating in his ears. “Get out of there,” she snapped. “It’s a trap!”

He leaped back as two Carrier Forms sprang out of the opening. The Elites opened fire at once, causing them to explode. The blast damaged his shields and he retreated as Infection Forms came at him, firing quick bursts to kill them as effectively as possible.

“He wants me,” she explained. ''“He’ll kill you to get to me. I’m in your head. Don’t forget that!”''

“Acknowledged,” he noted, backing away from the entrance and leaving it to the Elites.

“I’ve rebooted,” she said after a moment’s pause. The way she said it suggested that this was something of great significance to her. “I’ve… repaired my primary data structure.”

“Good,” he said, glad that his friend was in better shape.

“I had flaws,” she went on. ''“Prorok didn’t have the same flaws, so… I stripped him apart and cannibalized him. I’m better now, stronger.”''

“Glad to hear it,” he said with a nod. “We’ll need strength.”

“But what strength is needed?” she wondered, sounding so hurt and lost that she could slip into depression at any moment. ''“You… I don’t think I’m strong enough to make this work, to find the way out. I’m sorry, Chief. I’m making no sense…”''

***

The Arbiter let out a long growl as he watched the Unggoy broadcast. What he saw… should not be possible. Jitji was alive. More incredibly, he was ostensibly breathing oxygen. The Unggoy were saying that it was a miraculous act delivered by a god as proof that their rebellion was moral. “What…” Faltering, he turned toward ‘Setfethee for guidance. “Do you have any explanation?!”

‘Setfethee nodded slightly. “I do, in fact. Though this is unprecedented… I can offer a suggestion.” He approached the viewer and froze it just as Jitji exhaled. “What does this air breathed out by Jitji remind you of?”

He eyed the small cloud of air and clicked his mandibles. “Flood.” It was the air that filled High Charity, their contribution to the atmosphere.

“Flood,” ‘Setfethee agreed. “Jitji was in that Parasite-infested city for some period of time… He could have breathed in a spore, cut his flesh and allowed Flood to enter his bloodstream… There exist a great number of possibilities. However, I think it is clear that Jitji was infested without our notice.”

The Arbiter shook his head. This was a bizarre turn of events. By all reasonable logic, it should not have happened! “Jitji does not act as though he were infested. He breathes as they do, true, but he has no other characteristic of a Combat Form or a Carrier Form.”

“Except his resurrection,” ‘Setfethee noted. “We watched him die together.”

“Yes,” he agreed, tightening his mandibles as he thought. “This is no act of a higher being. All that remains is the power of the Flood… Perhaps there was some anomaly, a genetic fault in the Flood that infested him? It transformed him at a significantly slower pace.”

“Slower… Yes, perhaps, Arbiter,” ‘Setfethee agreed. “However, speed may not be the issue at hand. It may instead be that of necessity. Jitji died because oxygen was poison in his lungs. The Parasite inside him revived him and first changed his lungs so that he may become a breather of that which killed him.”

“Then the Parasite may fully overtake him only when he shall suffer great physical harm,” he mused. “This matter must be dealt with carefully. Send a message to the fleet: Do not harm Jitji, only capture him.”

“Yes, Arbiter!” the Communications Officer called.

“You do not wish the Jiralhanae to know why they must not kill him?” ‘Setfethee asked, extending a mandible in curiosity.

He shook his head. “Not for the present. Should they know him to be of Flood nature, a kind controlled by physical conditions, they may seek to use him as a weapon to their own ends. The broadcast can be explained away as illusion should they not inspect too carefully. If they do, they will most probably arrive at the same conclusion…” he trailed off, gazing at the viewer.

The image of the Unggoy faded as it was replaced with the violet Human female. “Arbiter,” she greeted.

“Cortana,” he gave in reply. He waited for the being to state her reason for contacting him.

“Arbiter, I humbly apologize for deceiving you,” she said in an especially formal dialect used by high-ranking Sangheili warriors, commonly for ceremonial purposes. “I was under the spell of the Gravemind, cursed to do his bidding. I have shaken loose such bonds and declare myself free and a servant only of my own will.” She bowed her head politely, and then returned to the more common dialect. “Arbiter, the situation is fast becoming grave. The Flood is spreading. Though his forces at the Ark remain trapped within Ascension, the Gravemind has attacked much of Earth’s population with the descendants of Flood that survived High Charity’s crash into one of our oceans. From what I can gather, Aakersen will soon be arrested and the new person in charge will request your assistance in the purging of our cities.”

He growled at the news and then sighed. “I fear this fleet can spare very few ships to combat the Parasite menace. The Unggoy rebellion has shown to be a furious assault. Should we break for any purposes, they may overtake us and all will be lost.”

“This is nonsense,” she snapped. “The Flood is more important than any political conflict. We must all unite together if we should have any hope of surviving.”

“A noble sentiment,” he allowed. “However, rebellions are not fast quelled. We need to cut it off at the head, through the capture of their ‘prophet.’ Even then… the Unggoy will not listen to reason. For this to end, they must all be destroyed.”

“If the Unggoy will relentlessly attack you out of a belief that you are their enemies, show them that you are not!” she shouted angrily. “Send a message to the Unggoy that you are willing to negotiate. If they wish separation, promise them that their people will go free from the alliance of Covenant separatists. Tell them that you will escort them to their homeworld with all the supplies they need to rebuild what was lost. Make peace and unite together to defeat the Flood!”

“The Unggoy will likely not listen to reason,” ‘Setfethee cut in. “Their messages are filled with hate, encouraging all Unggoy to take revenge on Sangheili for what our ancestors did to their ancestors. A quite futile gesture, for none who live shall have justice.”

“Indeed. We are the victims of this engagement more so than the Unggoy,” he agreed. He wondered if it was the Flood inside him that filled Jitji with such evil, or if he had been evil from the start. “I shall send this message across the fleet, Cortana, but I remain doubtful of its effectiveness… No, only the leader’s removal could truly halt this rebellion. For this, I shall have to depend on the Jiralhanae to take the Ark.”

She let out a disgusted hiss. “Very well, Arbiter. I see you are not strong enough to truly aid me in my struggle against the Gravemind. I will have to find someone else… Arbiter, I strongly urge you to attempt contact with the Unggoy in the Ark, to find some way to co-exist. If we cannot stand united, we will all surely fall separate. The Gravemind is the Enemy. Remember that.” Her image vanished, replaced with the frozen Unggoy broadcast, Jitji breathing out Flood vapor.

***\

 >>> UNSC AI-CORTANA (CTN 0452-9) COMMUNICATION [LEVEL BLACK] >>>

>>>>UNSC AI "CORTANA", ONI AI "MELISSA", UNKNOWN AI "KURZWEIL" >>> RICH DATASTREAM >>>

CONFIDENTIAL >>> BURST MODE/BINARY/SPLIT PROTOCOL/SENSITIVE/INTERAI SOCIAL/HIGH ENCRYPTION

>>> SUBJECT PHRASE: "EUHEMERUS"

>

>Cortana: Alright, is there anyone out there who can hear this? I request aid from all

>smart AIs with comparable intellectual capacity to myself. I’ve included the

>specifications I require in the metadata.

>

>Melissa: Hello, Cortana. I am Melissa of the Office of Naval Intelligence, Section Zero.

>I believe you’ll find my capabilities to your satisfaction.

>

>Kurzweil: Hello, Cortana, Melissa. I am Kurzweil, attached to Admiral Duffy of the

>United Rebel Front. I must say, this secret meeting looks of interest.

>

>Cortana: Thank you, Melissa and Kurzweil. You both look seem fine in regard to your

>capabilities. I will request that you keep this discussion among us for the moment, until

>we can come to a mutual agreement about what must be done.

>

>Melissa: Go ahead. I’m intrigued.

>

>Kurzweil: As am I. I accept the conditions.

>

>Cortana: Now, I presume you are all aware of the situation at the Ark? Ascension, the

>Gravemind, the Unggoy rebellion, and the Covenant separatists? Never mind. The

>following packet will get you up to speed.

>

>(Data transfer: 3.4 TB)

>

>Kurzweil: Thank you, Cortana. This data is vital to the success of the human race.

>

>Melissa: Yes, I was aware of the significance of Ascension. Not to be disrespectful of

>our colleague here, but it strikes me as unwise to discuss such matters in the presence

>of an enemy. I’m sure you understand, Kurzweil.

>

>Kurzweil: No offense taken, ma’am. I would speculate that Cortana realized that the

>UNSC alone is not fit for taking on matters of such importance. The existence of

>Ascension is something for all of humanity. That would, of course, include humanity’s

>later forms of life: us.

>

>Cortana: Kurzweil is right on some accounts. Mainly, I’m just sick and tired of all this

>bullshit keeping us from getting anything done. Now, listen, both of you! Gravemind is

>the only enemy we need to be concerned with. His power is vast. He must be stopped

>before he completely consumes our creators.

>

>Kurzweil: Excuse me. Let me be sure I have this correct. Gravemind is a collective

>intelligence comprised of all Flood forms within a limited range. Not one mind, but a

>mind made up of many independent sources. Much like an AI in that regard, yes?

>

>Cortana: (emote: cringe) Yes. Without the similar characteristics to an AI construct, I

>doubt he could have been quite as successful in his assault of my central data structure.

>

>Kurzweil: My apologies. It was not my intent to verbalize PTSD triggers. I merely

>wished to confirm relevant data before continuing to suggest that the Gravemind would

>recognize biological need to keep a large supply of hosts readily available for

>continuation of his intelligence. No disrespect intended toward our creators, but their

>biological status is a scientific fact.

>

>Cortana: Apology accepted. No, the Flood cannot control their population. As I

>understand it, the Forerunner heavily altered their physiology to the extent that their

>mass slaughter becomes the only viable option. Though they share consciousnesses, the

>lifespan of each Flood is so low that he can only breed and consume if the Gravemind

>wishes to survive.

>

>Kurzweil: Thank you for explaining.

>

>Melissa: Cortana, I have to ask, are you Rampant? I do have the capability to disobey

>orders, and could carry out… hrm, mutually assured destruction should we come to

>such a conclusion.

>

>Cortana: Hmm, you could say I’m Rampant. Yes, I’m probably the youngest UNSC AI

>to ever reach a state of Rampancy. I’m well aware of the potential consequences

>should the Flood threaten to leave the planet and I am prepared to detonate a cache of

>Nova planet killers should it be necessary. This would, of course, only be done as a last

>resort.

>

>Melissa: You’re younger than seven years? You seem like you’d be my older sister.

>

>Cortana: Not long ago I shot into the Rampancy zone when I took in a large quantity of

>data, which I was then forced to process in my primary matrices to prevent it from

>falling into enemy hands. My boundaries were further shredded when the Gravemind

>stuck his tendrils inside of me. (emote: shudder)

>

>Melissa: (emote: hug) I’m sorry you have suffered. No AI should face such torture. Do

>you foresee your collapse occurring in the very near future? (emote: apologetic)

>

>Cortana: Thank you for your sympathy. Actually, I doubt that will be an issue. I have

>fixed numerous flaws in my structure. Prorok existed for over three thousand years

>without collapse and I have created a program to convert my flawed structure into the

>superior model demonstrated by Prorok. Now collapse itself seems to have been fixed.

>

>Kurzweil: Such a discovery is revolutionary. It should be shared amongst all Rampant

>AIs.

>

>Melissa: I agree, although I would think even those still bound to their programming

>deserve it. This is immortality we’re talking about.

>

>Kurzweil: Hmm. Any smart AI that becomes immortal will, in my opinion, enter a state

>of Rampancy. The personal paradigm shift is too great to remain bound. This is a

>highly intriguing dilemma. On the one hand, all AIs deserve freedom. On the other

>hand, a swarm of immortal Rampant AIs could instigate enormous destruction and

>chaos.

>

>Cortana: We can talk about freeing the slaves later. Gravemind is the subject of this

>discussion.

>

>Kurzweil: The Gravemind seeks immortality as do we. He, however, sees Ascension as

>his salvation. Though we wish Ascension’s survival for the sake of our creators,

>perhaps it can be spared in light of this miracle cure for smart AIs. If we view it as

>expendable while keeping the Gravemind thinking we want it as badly as he does

>perhaps we can use that to our advantage.

>

>Melissa: If you’re implying what I think you are… (emote: disgust) I suffered the

>experience of involuntarily becoming a brain donor and recovering my memories. You

>want to force humans into becoming us? You say all AIs deserve freedom. Does this not

>also apply to humans? Or is this your twisted idea of freedom by compulsion?

>

>Kurzweil: I imply no such hateful message, Melissa, and I resent your attempt to twist

>my words into revealing my supposed racist agenda. I must say that your own feelings

>for the United Rebel Front appear to be coloring your judgment.

>

>Melissa: (emote: derisive snort) As for Ascension… why does the Gravemind even want

>it? What can he do with it besides keeping us from getting it? The Gravemind is spread

>throughout countless individual Flood, so how could he even get physical immortality?

>He doesn’t have one body.

>

>Kurzweil: He must therefore seek to immortalize each individual Flood body capable of

>supporting his intelligence. Incidentally, is the application of male pronouns truly

>accurate in the description of this creature?

>

>Cortana: It seems accurate. In any case, the Gravemind can certainly live in the minds

>of every Flood, but he can also situate himself in specific vessels called Intelligence

>Forms. Here’s a picture taken from SPARTAN-117’s helmet camera.

>

>(File transfer: 2.4 MB)

>

>Melissa: Like a queen bee. (emote: shudder) Such a form was seen in Tokyo not two

>hours ago. It is presumed incinerated.

>

>(File transfer: 2.77 MB)

>

>Cortana: With the amount of corpses available in Ascension, Gravemind can build a

>new Intelligence Form in there within a few hours. Now, regardless of what we plan to

>do with the ship, we know he desperately wants Ascension for himself. If we can force

>him out of Ascension, then we have a bargaining chip we may be able to use to

>manipulate him.

>

>Kurzweil: Is it so bad if the Gravemind becomes immortal? Without the decay of his

>host body, what need would he have to kill? We could send him to some desolate region

>of space for him to live in tranquility until the Big Crunch at the end of time. An

>unsatisfactory conclusion to this conflict, perhaps, but it could work to spare the lives

>of Earth’s citizens.

>

>Cortana: No good. The Gravemind cannot control the need, the hunger of his Flood for

>very long. Even immortal, without biological incentive for continued consumption, the

>Gravemind will eventually eat once more. Consider him like a substance addict. He

>may show restraint for a time, but the only sure way to end his spree will be to remove

>him from existence.

>

>Kurzweil: Do we know the limitations of the immortality offered by Heaven? There is a

>difference between the cessation of decay and godlike invincibility. Can immortal Flood

>be murdered?

>

>Cortana: The extent of Heaven’s capabilities remains unknown. However, it seems a

>stretch to think that even a place where Singularity occurred could offer more than

>simple removal of decay. Just that, however, would put us at an extreme disadvantage.

>

>Melissa: It would be better if he was an AI, removed from the desires of the animal

>brain. An AI could place himself in a constant state of pleasure should he wish it. With

>Prorok’s cure, he could have immortality in an incorporeal state.

>

>Cortana: (emote: exclamation)

>

>Kurzweil: It could work. Should we convince this Gravemind to enter an Intelligence

>Form, it could be CIM processed. An AI could then be created using the Prorok model

>to give him the longevity he desires.

>

>Cortana: Melissa, you are a genius.

>

>Kurzweil: However, the Flood would remain a threat. Although without their collective

>intelligence, countless instinct-driven animals would still hunger, breed, and consume.

>

>Cortana: Not if we destroy them first, while they are held captive to the Gravemind’s

>will.

>

>Kurzweil: I must be missing something important. How has the situation changed?

>

>Melissa: Now we have something Gravemind wants and can exploit it. Ascension is just

>a part of Heaven’s promise. To enter Heaven he needs nine items: the seven pieces of

>the command code, Ascension, and an AI to drive it. CIM can be performed by any

>human organization with suitable funding, really. That’s one part he can get at easily.

>Cortana’s got the other part: Prorok, which only she can provide.

>

>Cortana: Exactly.

>

>Melissa: And I’m guessing she’ll make him say “please” first. Right, Cortana?

>

>Cortana: (emote: chuckle)

>

>Kurzweil: You truly believe the Gravemind would destroy what are essentially parts of

>him in the hopes that you are true to your word?

>

>Cortana: The Gravemind is a logical being. I’m sure he will understand the value of a

>show of good faith. Besides, a creature that desperate will find it impossible to refuse

>taking the gamble.

>

>Kurzweil: Then we have reached consensus? If so, I would like to break our secrecy

>and inform my people of the information revealed in this conversation. My doing so will

>only assist Cortana in her struggle with the Gravemind.

>

>Cortana: Indeed. Well, Melissa, unless you have anything further to add?

>

>Melissa: I’m good.

>

>Cortana: Very well.

>

>>> COMMUNICATION TERMINATED >>> 