Cath

The Cradle

595 burst through a particularly flammable clump of matter with the staircase just a dozen metres away when the source of the chittering sound revealed itself. An armoured carapace with four insect legs, a long jagged tail and slime-dashed teeth clacked out of the tunnel and chittered furiously. Freyr screamed.

The Agent charged her shotgun to full power, narrowed the vector and fired at the monster. A sheet of plasma covered the front half of its body just as it began clambering up the side of the platform from the tracks. It screamed, recoiling back underneath the parapet where 595 lost sight of it.

A gurgling cry issued from the opposite tunnel; the Agent swivelled towards the new threat as it appeared on her sensory grid. Before she could complete the turn, two vines decoupled from pillars either side of the way forward and lunged at her. 595, fully dialled in behind the stubby shotgun, blew one of the vines to pieces before it gave an electronic sigh as the energy cell drained. The second vine wrapped around the gun and tried to yank it from her hands, so 595 grabbed the Rothian energy sword from her waist, flicked it on and slashed the vine in half.

The Agent shook the vine off the shotgun, then compacted it down as far as it would go and magnetised it to her chest plate. There was no time to reload now. She glanced behind her, but realised Dr Lang was no longer there.

Freyr recoiled from the terrible fascination of the creature coming for them, and stumbled off to the right, towards the middle of the platform. She fired her blaster wildly in front of her, still shouting and swearing, until another of the creatures burst from the tunnel on the opposite side of the platform. Freyr’s shout raised in pitch, and she turned tail to run back the way they’d come.

The Cradle

Keeping her shotgun poised with one arm and her eyes scanning around them, 595 unsheathed her nine inch blade and passed it back to Freyr. She then turned and gave it to Vreta’Sori. “Let's get out of here…” Dr Lang pleaded.

“We’re moving - stay close and don’t make a sound.” 595 hissed, as the train doors closed behind them and the train rattled off into another tunnel. The Agent picked a path through the maze of detritus and vines on the platform. Moving quickly, she barely made any noise at all as she headed for the stairs leading out of the subway.

Freyr by contrast, seemed incapable of being stealthy. After a few seconds, she yelped as she sent a piece of CraSec armour scraping across the floor with her foot. A guttural snarl accompanied by frenzied chittering echoed around the station. “Shit.” Freyr looked down at her feet as if to scold them personally.

“Run, now!” 595 ordered, setting off at a loping jog, hopping over clumps of vines as elegantly as one could in a suit. The sound of click-clacking rose significantly in volume from both of the tunnels on either side of the staircase. Vines began shifting and licking at their legs; 595 fired an incendiary shot across the platform, setting some of them on fire in front of them. They gave a shrill, gaseous scream.

The Cradle

“Hah. Welcome back Vreta’Sori.” 595 grunted, checking her shotgun’s charge as the train pulled into Illyria station. “Stay on my shoulder and give me hours on the clock if you see something dangerous, OK?” She looked intently at Freyr, who nodded hesitantly. 595’s sensors would pick up most things before an observant Human in this enclosed space, but it was good to keep Dr Lang busy and alert.

595 then looked at Vreta’s visor, and nodded quickly.

When the train doors rattled opened, the Institute Agent emerged first with her gun raised and scanning the immediate area. 595 moved quickly but quietly, picking a way through the discarded items littering the platform. Freyr had to pin her mouth shut to avoid shouting in surprise when the tannoy burbled to life above their heads.

“All personnel are to report to their nearest transit hub for immediate evacuation.” The pleasant female voice declared.

“Looks like they left in a hurry...” Freyr commented, carefully moving a metal briefcase out of the way with her foot.

595 knelt down quickly and picked up a discarded assault rifle from a pile of refuse. It had full charge, so the Agent stowed it on her back and pulled out her trusty pistol. She offered it to Freyr butt-first. “Aim, then fire. Remember the firing range.” Freyr looked uneasily at the gun, then reluctantly grabbed it.

A sharp click-clacking sound echoed through the station. 595 immediately turned back to the front with her shotgun raised. Her sensors showed one large bogey moving fast. It should be right on top of them… “Got something nearby - could be underneath or above us.” She snapped. “Oh gods, help us…” Freyr whimpered, raising her pistol.

The bright lights above flickered, then died. Eerie red auxiliary lights blinked on, revealing thick organic vines matting the floor, walls and ceiling that hadn’t been there before. “Oh no, oh no, oh no…” Freyr whispered, huddling close behind the Agent.

The ticking, chittering noise stopped, and so did the object on 595’s motion tracker. She gulped, her gun swaying quickly back and forth across her line of sights. Everything went silent, with only the sounds of heavy breathing over comms registering.

Halo: Aegis Team

Tar barely heard the mission details being discussed. Her ears were ringing like she’d been struck. Her own brother had betrayed the entire family with his treachery. She should have seen this coming! The warning signs had been there, now she really thought about it in this conference room, with the sound of others talking droned on in the background.

When the three of them were just children, Falx, Tar and Uztel spent many hours hunting Du’nak in the forests outside their Keep with the other younglings. Imported from Sanghelios centuries before and rewilded by accident soon after, these animals had adapted well to the cold, wet hillsides of Brissekh and grown suspicious of Sangheili again.

Operating as a pair, Tar and Falx, her older brother, had wounded and cornered a prime specimen. An adult alpha with long, broad tusks and mature back-horns resting within a muscular frame - the ultimate prize. They’d been closing in on the wounded animal after harassing and tracking it for the entire morning. Finally, they found it collapsed up against a rock formation, with dense bushes on one side and a steep drop on the other. They had it trapped.

But as they approached to strike the killer blow and claim the animal as their own, a spear flew through the undergrowth and pierced the Du’nak’s head, killing it instantly. Uztel appeared. Tar & Falx had exploded with fury as Uztel calmly collected his weapon.

“I’m sorry, siblings. I didn’t see you there! Forgive me.” He proclaimed. But Tar saw a glimmer of amusement in her brother’s eyes that day. A sadistic streak that thrived on reaping rewards for minimal personal risk. Uztel swore he had not been stalking the pair of them once he knew they had a worthy prize. Yet, Tar later found out her younger brother’s hunting partner had lost sight of him hours before the incident had happened.

Tar returned from her reverie just as the Human female dismissed them.

“No one touches my brother, except me.” Tar growled, tapping her chestplate with one fingernail as the others turned to leave. “If I fall in battle, you leave and allow Brissekh to decide Uztel’s fate. Or you find Falx and free him, if he still lives. Those are my terms.”

The Cradle

“Funnily enough, they’re a bit cagey about just giving away their building schematics. I’m working on it.” 595 grunted. Her pet cyber-weapon was investigating the government info-net which integrated with pretty much all of Outremer’s creations inside the Cradle. “The complex is belted by a park, so we can stay undercover up to a point. See if we can spot anything out of the ordinary.” She continued.

Under normal circumstances, they would’ve been able to transit straight into GCHQ like all the workers would. But the government communications centre had locked down days ago, allowing no one in or out. Even if they had been a way, after everything that was happening 595 was content to take extra precautions and approach on their own terms.

Their train rattled out of the tunnel and into the sub-level of another large building. Freyr took in long lines of civilian staff waiting patiently for their turn to use portable transit stations, under the watchful eye of private security guards.

“DeWinter will lose a no-confidence vote because of this fiasco.” 595 announced suddenly. “If we pull this off, you’ll need somewhere secure to continue your work, Dr Lang. Contact Captain Andersen; she can be trusted.” The Agent urged, flicking her eyes from the scene unfolding before them to drill into Freyr. “Do you understand me?” 595 turned her head to look at Vreta too. “You too. Both of you have to carry on living, alright?”

Freyr gulping. Her suit compensated for her shaking hands as she grabbed a support pole and slid down into a seat. “I tried to warn them, I…” Her lip wobbled, and she tried to compose herself as the view of the garage disappeared again. “Wait...are you leaving?” 595 shook her head, placing a reassuring hand on Freyr’s shoulder. “Not yet, but I may have to soon. Just for a little while. Things could get messy, but I need to know you won’t run into other life-threatening situations after this one. Either of you.” 595 looked at Vreta again, letting out a wry smile.

The Cradle

“It’s Ok.” Freyr nodded encouragingly, trying not to show how scared she was to Dr Girard as she stood alone in the small transit station. 595 hit the switch and the junior researcher deconstructed before their eyes. “Don’t worry, she’ll be fine. It’s us I worry about.” 595 admitted, tight-lipped as she motioned for both her companions to get to the train.

It was a modular design, so each of the small carriages could split off and head on different routes. A blinking neon sign showed that the front two carriages were destined for Illyria station, which the public maps showed was right outside the GCHQ complex.

They bustled aboard. 595 instructed the G5-CSF virus to attach to the train too, since it was resisting calls to fit back into the bottle from which she’d released it. The Agent covertly scanned comms once the train began whistling through a dark tunnel out of the garage. She was alarmed how little sense they made. Had the Cradle found their communications infrastructure too?

“I won’t lie to you both - something feels very wrong here. Even by our lofty standards.” 595 muttered, her visor momentarily sliding off her face so she could get some proper air. She gazed between both of them.

The Cradle

Freyr nodded feverishly. “Exactly. We need answers. This could be our last chance.” She turned from Vreta to look at the Agent, who stood with one arm vaguely extended towards the transit station.

The arm dropped, clapped against her thigh. 595 cocked her head slightly and took one step forward. Vreta was acting quite uncharacteristically. The Rothian she knew would have jumped at the chance to get out after everything they’d just experienced.

“What’ve you done with the real Vreta, huh?” 595 asked, then chuckled grimly. None of this was making any sense. They said in the Vault that the Cradle could sense the Navigator, so why was it still fighting? She hated to admit it, but Freyr’s brilliant mind seemed more capable of solving these mysteries than all of the Institute’s codex fragments. That was one of the reasons 595 had been attached to the scientist in the first place.

Not the main reason, but one of them.

She had to keep Freyr alive for now, but there was no guarantee the Vault was any safer than in the sim. At least if she was still logged in here, they might be able to preserve her somehow...But 595 had been summoned back to Alpha! She couldn’t be in two places at once.

A sleek chrome train pulled silently up to the station. Some of the internal lights were flickering, but otherwise it looked ready to go. “Well?” Freyr asked, hands on hips. She felt sick with anxiety, but pure adrenaline and the hope of finding out about her family drove Dr Lang on.

595 sighed. “Fine! What about you?” She asked, looking at Dr Girard. “I’ll be Ok, but I have to get out of here...I’m sorry…” The junior researcher sniffled, stumbling towards the transit station.

“Ok. Tell the Vault we’re en route to GCHQ.”

The Cradle

Dr Girard nodded woozily, wanting to believe the giant lizard. “We saw all those soldiers, all the defences. Surely nothing can get through?” The two scientists stepped gingerly through the dark garage after the Agent’s light blue HUD outline.

“I don’t know anymore. None of this shit has gone to plan since the start. Let me think...” 595 snapped, feeling burdened by this ragtag group she was leading.

There was no immediate reply to Vreta over comms. “Forget it. This thing could be controlling all our comms. I’m not even sure GCHQ is still operational.” 595 whispered. All the instruments in her suit were going haywire. She queried the G5 CSF virus she’d planted in the building, and found no reliable options for getting a message out. She did, however, find a way to turn the lights on.

They stopped flickering, and while more than half had been blown, the garage was still more visible than it was before.

595 led them carefully to an enclosed office next to the subway station. Holding her shotgun out in front, she pushed open the door and the lights turned on, revealing a waiting area with a transit station built into the walls. She moved quickly over to the controls and tried to plot an extraction back to the Vault.

Meanwhile, Freyr went to the subway terminal in the office and tried to decipher the complex diagram of New Antioch’s train system. “Says there's a train in thirty seconds! Lets see if i can eliminate the additional stops…” She mumbled, deftly working the interface. “GCHQ is just a few minutes away! If we’re quick, we can-”

“No. I’m getting you all out of here. It’s too dangerous.” 595 responded firmly. Text comms from other assets in the area were beginning to ping up nested under the Priority 1 order in her HUD. 595 just needed to get rid of these people, so she could focus. “Ok, the connection is weak but we can jump from here. Get in.”

Freyr turned to Vreta. “You know we need answers. Will you help me?”

“Don’t you fucking enable her.” 595 growled straight afterwards, pointing a menacing finger in the Rothian's direction.

The Cradle

“Good luck, Godspeed. You two, secure the far side.” Osman ordered her soldiers, before switching back to commanding the battle unfolding outside. The CraSec grunts moved to take positions around the hole, freeing up Vreta to fall back.

Agent 595 jumped into the hole feet first, her knees bending slightly to compensate. She spun nimbly round, surveying the garage through her shotgun sights while her suit pinged the area. Some of the motion-lights flickered on and off, never fully activating. Sounds from above were muffled and disconnected from this tranquil subterranean zone.

Cars hung vertically from the garage ceiling like bats in their nest. 595’s eyes followed the ceiling rail system which connected them all to a wide metal door at the opposite side of the room. It seemed intact, and nothing appeared to be moving around her.

“Clear. Come down.” 595 called, just as a Priority 1 alert appeared in the corner of her HUD.

[ALPHA SITE COMPROMISED - RETURN TO BASE.]

“Shit.” She growled.

---

“We can still make it!” Freyr asserted in response to Osman’s final command. She turned to Dr Girard, trying to keep her voice level and reassuring. “I need you to jump now, Thalia. We’re going to GCHQ to talk to the Object. I’ll be right behind you.”

Dr Girard nodded, her watery eyes full of fear. She tottered towards the edge then fell forward, landing clumsily on her front. Freyr jumped right afterwards, managing to stay standing. Vreta soon followed.

“I need to get you all out of here. GCHQ, are transit stations online?” 595 asked.

No response.

“Transit station is this way, let's go.” 595 pushed forward, marking a waypoint beyond where the subway line crossed the garage.

“You heard GCHQ. There was an ATTACK!” Freyr wailed, still supporting her scientist colleague who was continually unsteady on her feet. “It may be no safer out there than in here. They could be waiting for us to exit the sim so they can kidnap us! We can still finish this.”

The Cradle

“Yeah, on it.” 595 confirmed, requesting a route through New Antioch’s sub-layer.

“All units - fall back to my marker.” Osman commanded, as the three of them spraying plasma fire all over a clutch of attackers surrounding the boxed in convoy outside.

“Negative! We’re all torn up and there are still bogies in the windows - they have us pinned." Came the reply.

Osman glanced back into the lobby. There were still a lot of infected people rushing their position. Through what was left of the windows, she could also see runners clambering over the lorry blocking off the street behind the convoy.

The Major had a difficult decision to make.

“Tangier One, the Vault cannot halt the recoupling. There’s been an attack on the control room. I am finally awake.” GCHQ crackled over comms.

“GCHQ, say again? Think we misheard that last part!” Freyr called. No response.

“Get downstairs, get to the transit station. We’ll hold them off from here!” Major Osman boomed.

595 didn’t need telling twice. She pushed Freyr and Dr Girard towards the hole, shooting an infected person who was skirting round the side of it to get in front of them.