Halo: Ancient Curse

Halo: Ancient Curse is a halo story written by Jonathan 'Baccus' Karlsson, with support from Matthias 'Matt/Survivor' Karlsson.

Prologue
0743 HOURS, MARS 7, 2584 (MILITARY CALENDAR)/CENTAURUS ALPHA SYSTEM, OUTPOST 3, PLANET ORPHEUS

Michael Norwich yawned loudly. He had been up too late last night. He had been stupid enough to go on a friend's party even though he knew he had the early morning shift the next day. Michael regretted his mistake, but it was too late to do anything now. Besides, it would likely be possible for him to get some sleep on the job. It was rare for things out of the ordinary to occur at the outpost. Outpost 3's purpose was to identify unscheduled arrivals and alert the authorities. But few ships arrived at all to Orpheus. The colony was largely self-supplying; everything proceeded on its own, contact or trade with other colonies was largely unnecessary. The most common visitors were pirates, both human and others, hoping for some easy plunder. However, the pirates soon learned to leave Orpheus alone. Even though it was largely isolated, three UNSC Heimdall-class Frigates patrolled the system, ready to engage whenever something arrived. While it wasn’t enough to protect a planet from enemies like the Covenant Remnants, it more than sufficed to keep raiders and pirates away, who often used leftover vessels incapable of putting up a fight. Mike relaxed, putting his feet on the control panel. He closed his eyes.

He had almost fallen asleep when something beeped. Cursing quietly, he corrected himself in the chair and tapped some buttons on the control panel. The layout for the Centaurus Alpha System appeared on a screen in front of him. A red dot winked on the outskirts of the system, moving slowly towards Orpheus. Mike pressed more buttons, initiating a scan of the new arrival. After a few minutes, a holographic image of the ship appeared in a separate window. None of its features matched that of any human vessel. Mike ran a quick search through the comparison archives, showing that the vessel was neither of Covenant, Elite, Plainsfierian or Machina origin, although parts of the ship seemed to have built-in Machina parts. The rest of the vessel appeared Forerunner, according to the comparison charts. Most likely, some Machina had found a Forerunner ship that was either incomplete or damaged, and then filled the incomplete or damaged sections with their own constructions. However, the fact that Machina would have found a Forerunner vessel, kept quiet about it and then make an unscheduled arrival in an isolated system confused him. The Machina appeared terrifying, because of their size and the appearance of their frames, but they were actually very friendly. They had been enthusiastically introduced into the galactic community, and inter-species relations had been friendly. Unlike other races, the Machina "cyberized" themselves when they reached maturity; replacing their organic parts with machine parts. In the end, little more than their brain remained organic; everything else was machines and cybernetics, what the Machina referred to as a frame. He opened the COM and linked to the UNSC Carolina, the commanding vessel in orbit. A man with graying hair and bushy mustache appeared on the screen. "Outpost 3, report." The man replied. "Captain" Mike started. "There's a vessel on the edge of-" "I'm aware of it." The Captain fingered with his mustache. "What I want to know is if your long-range scans have identified exactly what it is and who it belongs to." "The vessel's definitely of Forerunner origin. However, parts of the ship has Machina infrastructure." "Machina!?" The captain appeared surprised. Not that Mike could blame him. The Machina Federation, the Machina's government, didn't even have borders to UNSC space. This meant either there had been a communication delay, or it was a rogue group they were dealing with. A rogue group in control of a Forerunner ship could be trouble. Especially for just three UNSC frigates. "All right, Outpost 3. We'll attempt contact. If they get violent, we engage. Send a message back to FLEETCOM and alert all ground forces. Just in case it's out of our hands." A Forerunner ship was probably well out of their hands, but Mike didn’t dare say it. "Aye, sir." He added nervously.