Chapter 1 - Halo: Dread Incursion - Part 1

Halo: Dread incursion – Part 1

 
Shortly after the events of Halo 3, a small research team is sent to investigate the wreckage site of the Flood breach on Earth. They assume the threat to have been neutralized; they’re dead wrong.
 
Not long after disembarking from the Pelican, Ajax was already up to his bitching, “Sarge, why even waste our time on an op like this? With things settling down I’m ready to put a fork in this fucking war.” The ODST checked the sights on his BR55 battle rifle while scanning the area. 
 
Staff Sergeant Mathews, team lead, replied, “Shut it CPL, this is important, for the UNSC and the doctor. We’re here to assist, not ask questions.” 
 
The doctor in question was Natalie Vance, a junior chief medical officer for ONI and the actual ranking official for the mission. That said, she lacked the stomach to command any military personnel, let alone elite members of the ODST. Dr. Vance kept her head down and stayed close to SSGT Mathews as they departed their transport.
 
The operation in question was simple: scour the abandoned crash site for dormant or faulty flood spores, collect a viable sample for further analysis, and return to the FOB; simple enough. Dr. Vance was a young Xenovirologist, thus a perfect candidate for spearheading their mission. The funny thing was, the Sangheili had already assisted UNSC forces in clearing the area of any Flood lifeforms during The Battle of Voi some months back. With their covenant technology, the remaining structures and the surrounding area for 10km out had been surveyed, deemed reclaimable or not, and glassed accordingly. To Dr. Vance’s knowledge, all signs of infection had been terminated with 95% of the area glassed over, yet here they were. 
 
“Pipeline is clear, point of entry is ready to go.” The team’s point man, SGT. Gary Rhys confirmed over comms. With his go ahead the team of four entered one of the few standing compounds, what was designated as a subsection of an auto factory during the war, and had remained so until the Flood arrived. Rhys swept the entry way with his trusty M90 shotgun, for which he’d carved into its stock: “Bad Lad”. 
 
Each of the soldiers was armed with standard issue orbital drop shock equipment, the addition of an extra filtration system in case of any unexpected “remnants” included just in case. Dr. Vance sported her usual white lab coat and a modified rebreather, along with the necessary hazmat precautions. Auburn hair was tucked into a formal bun and her stereotypically thick glasses obscured light blue eyes. She’d brought no weapons, preferring a trusty digital uplink pad for note taking and a satchel with the necessary tools of her trade.
 
“This is the spot,” she advised her small team, “within this building’s interior maintenance shaft there should be an access point to lower levels. According to ONI data releases, the lower levels were swept by Sangheili Coalition and UNSC forces some time ago, but it was a preliminary sweep, and was disregarded once other priorities came to light. I believe the best course of action would be—”
 
Ajax couldn’t help himself, coming up to the doctor’s left flank, “This is a quick check in for the brass and eggheads like yourself. No offense doc, but let the Hell Divers tidy things up and we can be on our way. We aren’t gonna find anything.”
 
Already unsure of her place amongst these veteran soldiers, Natalie sunk inward. 
 
SSGT lowered his MA2B assault rifle as he closed ranks. “Corporal, shut the fuck up,” Mathews chastised further, “another complaint and you’ll be sucking shit out of needle once this is over. Plus, you can barely tell Saturday from Sunday, I bet the ‘S’s’ confuse you; you don’t know shit regarding this op.” He toggled the transparency mode on his ODST visor and shot Natalie an encouraging glance, “This is your op, Dr. Vance, we’re on you.”
 
With a bit more courage she spoke up, “Maintenance is priority.”
 
---
 
“You ever seen The Flood before, Rhys?” CPL Ajax posed as they strolled at a casual pace. This building was rather large, and despite the eerie darkness that enveloped the interior there was nothing too off-putting about it. Any bodies, bloodstains, or signs of battle had been wiped clean by the initial task force. They had some time to kill while navigating the dim corridors. “I mean, I’ve heard the stories, but they can’t be that fucked up. We’ve been fighting all sorts of strange shit for years.”
 
Gary didn’t usually make small talk, but obliged, “Yeah, once.”
 
It was an answer none of them were expecting, “Really?” Dr. Vance chimed in. 
 
The Sergeant’s tone lowered, “Mhm, once, but not in combat. It was as a member of a containment unit on a cold storage site, working with researchers such as yourself Mrs. Vance.”
 
“Just Ms.” She politely corrected.
 
“Looks like Ms. Vance is a bachelorette boys!” Ajax razzed a little less harshly this time.
 
“My apologies on his behalf. Anyways, it was one of the only two occasions that we’d secured an active sample: an infection form. From what I saw, it didn’t move much, just twitched around a bit when prodded. Butt ugly thing, really.” Though he didn’t speak much, once you got the SGT going, he was gone. “I mean, when you think about it, ain’t too scary right? It’s alien, downright disgusting, but you’re right Jax. We’ve fought aliens before. Big, sharp teeth, shooting hot fucking plasma at us; that ain’t nothing new.” Rhys paused in his monologue, and for a moment the entire facility was dead quiet. “It’s just that, that ain’t what it’s supposed to be. It’s like uh, Frankenstein, yeah. Alien even to the aliens. The Flood isn’t natural. It doesn’t have a language, friends, family, or culture. It’s the flesh of another creature; an animal, one of those covenant squid-faces, hell, even a human. You look at it and you can’t help but wonder. ‘Specially when we lost so many boys on that damned ring. I mean, that’s what keeps you up at night.”
 
The SGT wasn’t exactly a wordsmith, but the terror of his implication hit home for all of them. The Flood weren’t natural, and whatever footage or data logs they’d seen weren’t just monsters; it was potentially their former allies.
 
SSGT Mathews broke the silence, “Enough horror stories, we’re here.”
 
The team had arrived at what appeared to be an elevator shaft, its lift still appearing to be function. Well, minus the power. 
 
“Damn, I something like this must take a lot of power to operate, not that there’s much we can do about that as the whole grid is shut down.” Dr. Vance wrinkled her brow in frustration, more so that she was wasting her men’s time. 
 
“No problem, we’d overlooked it too.” SGT Rhys interjected, entering the lift and beginning to troubleshoot for solutions. Ajax turned his headlamps up a notch, swept their perimeter, and held his tongue.
 
They waited for a couple of minutes for the SGT to finish up, and after some time he’d come up with a solution. “Well, there’s an access point on the ceiling of the lift, and given the schematics of the building—” He paused while focusing to undo the top panel, “there should be enough room for us to mosey on down the side. It’ll be tight though, so probably one at a time.”
 
No one liked that idea, but it was the best they had at the moment. 
 
“Well shit,” SSGT looked to the panel flooring and could only imagine what awaited below, “you up for a little rappelling, Doctor?”
 
Vance wasn’t the biggest proponent of the idea, but if it meant winning some brownie points with the boys it’d be worth it. In truth, she was a bit sheepish, preferring the company of books rather than people. After all, knowledge didn’t judge or chastise. Some interesting stories to tell after retirement or some neat excerpts regaling her time with the ODST couldn’t hurt, right? “Let’s do it.”
 
---
 
The three had climbed onto the lift, finding a secure point to fasten their rappelling gear and make the 13’ descent. Going down would be much easier than getting back up, and it didn’t take a genius to know that complicated exfil should things get hairy down below. Still, none of them expected much resistance. 
 
SGT Rhys decided to go first, possessing the healthy dose of 8G n’ all. He secured his bearings, checked systems and fastened the shotgun across his chest plate. “Ain’t our biggest jump but yeehaw!” With a whizz he descended into the darkness. 
 
The other marines shook their heads in embarrassment and Natalie’s confidence wavered once again as she stared into the darkness below, “You alright, SGT?”
 
There was a momentary delay, then some static over comms, “Welp, you’re gonna want visual on this.” It was concerning to say the least, but the country boy didn’t seem too perturbed. 
 
“Goddamn it, Rhys, give descriptors, and let us know if you need extraction.” SSGT whispered a growl into his helmet’s communication system. 
 
“No, just want the doctor’s eyes on this, no immediate threat, over.”
 
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Ajax mumbled off comms. 
 
All Mathews could do was sigh, “Alright. By the books people. Ajax, you’re next, then Dr. Vance, and I’ll tighten us up. If shit goes haywire then its Rhys, Vance, Ajax, and myself as exfiltration order. Retreat to evacuation point bravo and neutralize any threats until the bird arrives. Copy?”
 
Each member returned a solid copy, “Let’s get tactical.”
 
---
 
When Vance finally reached the lower level, she couldn’t make sense of what she was seeing exactly, but soon found herself in the most exciting yet precarious situation of her entire career. From what their collective headlamps revealed, nearly 10’ out everything was coated in a thin layer of dormant parasite spores; old machinery, service pipes, access panels, all of it. 
 
“Alright, whoopee, we got what we needed,” CPL Ajax nervously knelt forward and assumed a steady shooting position. “Do you need to collect this in a jar or something, doc? I wanna get shipside ASAP.” He flicked the fire mode on the battle rifle from single to burst.  
 
The doctor had brought a collection sampling kit, and fumbled with her satchel to ready it. SSGT Mathews made his descent, “What do we got ladies?”
 
“The find of a lifetime, and a worrisome threat to say the least.” She retrieved a genetic analyzer from the kit and led the team towards the first cluster of inactive spores. 
 
“You sure this shit is safe, Dr. Vance?” The SGT was beginning to feel some of Ajax’ nerves. 
 
“Perfectly, well, for us. The filtration augments made to your helmets and my respirator keep us safe. Plus, these spores are dormant. Why are some spores dormant, you might ask? We don’t know exactly, but there should be nothing to fear; trust me SGT.”
 
“Should be,” Ajax remarked. 
 
Mathews shot a glare, “Can it, got what we need doctor?”
 
Natalie’s eyes squinted, “Not quite, the degradation level of these samples is too severe. I’ve never seen Flood material this biologically weakened, even older samples on cryostasis.”
 
“Isn’t that a good thing?” SSGT inserted. 
 
“Not for research purposes, no. We need to go a bit deeper.”
 
“Ah Shit,” Rhys groaned, “I’m with you doc, but ain’t that a bitch?” 
 
Natalie gave a nervous chuckle, “Yeah, it’s a bitch, but ONI needs a viable sample so that we never have to fear this infection again. So that we can go to sleep knowing that the stars are a little less dangerous. No more fallen marines, at least not to this. No more desecrated bodies.”
 
Each ODST could feel her words, having lost brothers and sisters to the sickening parasite from beyond the starts, and none spoke out against that line of thinking. “How deep?” CPL Ajax questioned. 
 
“We’ll know when we see it.”
 
---
 
It didn’t take long, as the team passed through a maze of spore caked corridors and could tell things were picking up. Some spores were even airborne, an indicator of something a bit more active. 
 
“Gotcha,” Natalie captured one of the floaters in her specimen analysis vial, easing the marines’ growing tensions. 
 
SGT Rhys gave a relieved, “Oorah!” 
 
“We clear to go?” SSGT Mathews checked in while watching the rear. 
 
Dr. Vance checked the degradation level and saw they were in the clear, “we’re clear,” she triumphantly sighed. Still, this wasn’t an absolute victory, as it meant there were active infection vectors on earth; they may have needed to give The Sangheili a call. 
 
SSGT Mathews readied to call in the pelican but couldn’t get through, “Shit, long range comms is down.”
 
“Probably the concrete,” Rhys added, “Schematics say there is about a foot of it above our heads. We’re running close range only right now—”
 
“Wait,” Ajax interrupted the conversation, “you hear that?” 
It took a moment, but they could, the skittering of something that for a FACT could not have been uncontaminated, especially given their environment. 
 
“Close up on the doctor!” SSGT shouted, and the three soldiers saddled up around their operation lead. Vance shrunk into place, trying to contain her growing hyperventilation. 
 
The target made itself clear as it entered their circle of light, and therein Ajax’ line of sight; it was indeed a base infection form. 
 
“Contact!” the ODST roared, releasing two quick bursts on the creature. Luckily, two of the six rounds ripped through the paper-thin membrane of the Flood form and it popped like a water balloon. Vance, wearing moderately efficient earplugs, still clutched the sides of her head to prevent the ringing. 
 
“Roll call!” SSGT yelled. 
 
“Rhys, clear!”
 
“Ajax, clear!”
 
“Dr. Vance, clear!”
 
He breathed a steady sigh of relief, but his heart was still racing. “Let’s get the fuck outta dodge and glass this facility, now.”
 
SGT Rhys stood up and was beginning to back away from his sector, “We got movement on sensors, lots!” 
 
The sound of that familiar, dreadful skittering resumed, except this time it was a symphony of horror. Multiple, no, dozens of infection forms were scraping along the panel flooring in their direction, and he time to leave was two minutes ago. 
 
“Alright, emergency exfil plan is a go, move!” Mathews roared into the comms and it didn’t take much for the others to comply. In a beeline they scrambled through the dense hallways of the service tunnels, Mathews taking the rear and laying down frenzied burst of suppressive fire. It was madness. Though he barely had a visual, the sickly pop an infection form made as lead tore through it was indescribable. 
 
“Left,” Rhys shouted, “right…another left!” He was trying his best to take point, but was unaware of his own speed and was making some alarming progress ahead; the frantic bobbing of the helmet’s headlamp not helping his vision or mental state.
 
Dr. Vance panted as she desperately tried to carry her own pace and not slow down those behind her, “SGT wait!” It was a plea that fell on deaf ears.
 
“Shit. Shit. Shit.” Rhys was a couple meters ahead of the doctor when he spun right around a hallway corner, only to be greeted by a bloated carrier form not 2’ away. In that moment, he begged to God that he wouldn’t feel much. It’s two arm-like tendrils jolted towards him, and in less than a second it erupted in a violent explosion of infection types and active spores. With the force of a fragmentation grenade it crushed nearby service pipes and ripped through the helpless soldier. The SGT’s breastplate and much of his auxiliary armor were blown to smithereens in the initial blast, black fatigues beneath them singed by what appeared to be chemical burns. That wasn’t the worst part, as the complete force of the blast had blown in his visor and collapsed his sternum; “Bad Lad” soared across the hallway behind him...
 
Dr. Vance was just out of the blast radius, was able to piece together the aftermath in all its gory detail. SGT Rhys sputtered into what remained of his helmet, “G-Get e-em off—” A coughing fit of blood and bone fragments interrupted him, and as he lay on the ground a cluster of infection forms began to engulf his legs. 
 
Ajax had seen and heard enough, pushing past Natalie as she froze in terror; the CPL grabbed her hand to pull her along. 
 
“Situation?” SSGT Mathews barked as he caught up to them.
 
“Make a left, Rhys is down!” Ajax swerved to the left rather than to Rhys’ aid, not even hesitating to assist the SGT; the ODST knew his companion was fucked, no need to get the Dr. killed as well. 
 
Natalie could feel the CPL tugging at her arm, legs like gelatin but running on autopilot; could things really go so wrong this fast?
 
As Mathews released another volley of .390, now at the few visible infection forms that were hauling Rhys away, he scrambled low and picked up the discarded M90. 
 
Ajax and the doctor reached a pneumatically sealed door, noting the emergency release valves at each tide. The CPL reached for the right lever and pulled with all his might, “Natalie—Natalie!” 
 
His frantic words momentarily snapped her out of the shock, “Grab the release valve and pull!” SSGT Mathews finally caught up, immediately dropping to one knee and emptying the remainder of his magazine into the writhing darkness; hot brass littered the corridor. 
 
Dr. Vance and CPL Ajax heaved against the door’s pressurized locks, but they eventually gave was with a mechanical hiss. Ajax took cover inside and provided covering fire, “Mathews, now!”
 
That was all the SSGT needed to hear, and as he clamored into the nearby room flung a M9 frag into the clamoring Flood lifeforms; the steel door slammed shut behind him. 
 
---
 
The remaining three members of the research team collected their bearings in what appeared to be a small decontamination room, probably used to hose down employees who had just worked with hazardous materials before moving through the facility. The pressurized doors had sealed any trace of infection outside, and for the time being, they were “safe”. 
 
“Jesus Christ,” CPL Ajax mumbled to himself, leaning against a sleek surface for support. The SSGT slumped against the adjacent wall, changing magazine on his spent MA2B, “we just left Gary. Just left him.” He too was feeling the weight of their situation. One man down, and surrounded by the most dangerous lifeform in the known Milky Way galaxy; Mondays, right?
 
They were separated from the surface, without power, out of communication range, and surrounded what appeared to be an active Flood infestation; things could not get any worse. 
 
Natalie hugged herself tightly in a desperate attempt to self-soothe, “SGT Rhys was blown apart, and given the damage to his helmet and clothing was infected before he even hit the ground. Even one active spore can assimilate someone into the hivemind. We had to leave him, had to.” The doctor clung to any scrap of logic she could muster. There was no amount of sealed transcripts recounting UNSC skirmishes with Flood forms that could’ve prepared her for this, and she’d done her research.
 
Ajax assumed an uncharacteristic brevity and poise, “Your orders, SSGT.” He reloaded his own rifle and stood at full attention.
 
Dr. Vance looked to Mathews, “We have to find an access panel, or some sort of emergency exit, anything. ONI needs to know about this, everyone on this planet is at risk.” Natalie didn’t want to die, and knew that the longer they were down here the more quarantine protocols they’d be subject to. 
 
The building’s schematic indicated they were a short trek from another lift, and fighting back to their initial entry point was totally out of the question. 
 
SSGT rose to his feet, “Well, we should, erm—” He didn’t want to admit it but he was operating in the dark. “Rhys always found a way,” he muttered lowly. 
 
Ajax offered his own insight, “Why not wait it out? Isn’t protocol to send an actual infestation task force? We need reinforcements, an extraction team, Sierra 117, something—”
 
“That isn’t happening”, Dr. Vance placed her hands on her hips, nervously awaiting her companions’ responses. 
 
“What do you mean, that isn’t happening?” Ajax entered her personal space, and the ODST towered over her 5’3” at 6’1” tall. 
 
“Well, I mean—”
 
The SSGT also approached, “Answer the question.”
 
“We have two hours to reach the extraction point, then we’re on an eight-hour timer.”
 
Ajax followed up, “Timer?”
 
“Once 8 hours are up, ONI’s Section One Division will designate our operation as a BLACKBEAM Project.”
 
“And that means?” SSGT Mathews was not liking the sound of this. 
 
“BLACKBEAM is any operation that gets shelved by ONI’s oversight committee. It’ll be covered in red tape and any information regarding active participants, location, and duration will be expunged; no records.”
 
“You mean we’ll be expunged,” Mathews let out a sigh of hopelessness, with Ajax following up, “Fucking Naval Intelligence.”
 
Dr. Vance confirmed their fears, “An orbital bombardment from a MAC canon would most likely be used to vaporize this structure, and even if we’re discovered after 8 hours, ONI will presume us to be infected. They’ll destroy our bodies with salvaged forerunner technology if the situation requires; No ashes, no infection, no trace.”
 
Such a precautionary measure wasn’t exactly outside of The Office’s jurisdiction, and it damn sure wasn’t unbelievable of them to do. 
 
Natalie pleaded, “Well, I didn’t think this would be an active site! That any of this would be necessary!”
 
Mathews responded, “That’s why they didn’t send a Captain or even an LT, right? Just a couple of low-priority Hell Divers and an inexperienced doctor, so if things went to shit there wouldn’t be too many questions asked, am I right? They’ll write us up as security detail for some other BLACKBEAM project in Antarctica, or at another nameless research site that doesn’t even exist. No questions asked.”
 
Dr. Vance nodded in defeat. 
 
There exchange was interrupted by Ajax locked a round of 9.5 x 40mm into his rifle’s chamber, “So are we gonna sit around and wait to get glassed? Or fucking do something?”
 
---
 
 
“So, we know the plan,” Mathews gave his equipment a final once over. 
 
Natalie feebly gripped the M6C handgun that Ajax had offered her. Luckily for her, even though the gun was chambered in a massive 12.7mm, a heavy compensator its barrel reduced some of the kick; it was unbelievably heavy nonetheless.
 
“You ever shot a gun before?” 
 
She whimpered, “Yeah, my grandfather’s .22 rifle—when I was a girl.”
 
The CPL sighed, “We’re fucked.”
 
“By the books people,” Mathews assumed command once again, “Through this doorway is a series of hallways and thin service passages, but the next maintenance shaft isn’t too far. If we stick to the plan as follows. If the lift is down, we open the service panel and boost each other up to the first level. If it’s up, well, we’ll use the service cables attached to it and climb up. We can make the exfil time easily, glass this piece of shit facility, and raise a glass to SGT Gary Rhys.”
 
“Oo-fucking-rah,” Ajax nodded quietly. 
 
The door across the room was the same as the one they’d enter through, pneumatically sealed, but once they hit the manual emergency release the doors would slide open. What awaited on the other side was a mystery, one they’d have to shoot their way through if necessary. 
 
Mathews set up a line of fire with “Bad Lad”, giving the go ahead for his companions to unseal the door. It hissed open and revealed yet another spore caked tunnel, but this one seemed much quieter than the one they’d fled through.
 
“Well fuck me,” the CPL mumbled, “I got rear, you’re in the middle Vance.” 
 
They formed a tight line and cautiously moved through the narrow hallways, the tiny woman could feel the hefty pistol shaking in her grip. 
 
“Watch your muzzle sweeps and call your targets, we bolt if we encounter anything else.” Mathews could feel the sweat rolling off of his eyelids as he tracked visuals down the shotgun’s neon green iron sights. 
 
It was a labyrinth in the dark, and without the facility’s context as a factory worker, everything just blended together. There was a sudden crash. Ajax locked his position and called out, “Its coming from where we just left.” Another crash, this time with the twisting of steel.  
 
“Oh shit, move!” Another chase ensued, and Mathews led the team as quickly as he could to their new emergency exit. The darkness was oppressive, and the floors were now slick with another substance. 
 
Ajax called out as he opened fire behind them, “Infection forms!” 
 
It was a tidal wave of necrotic flesh, puss-filled sacks with writhing stems and probing antenna. Even when a few of them popped another sickly mass took their place. 
 
Dr. Vance peeked behind her, noticing that the CPL was reloading, and fired a round from her handgun. It hurt her wrist and kicked like a mule but the round struck true, obliterating a parasite midair; her hope rekindled, if not for but a moment. 
 
“We have three more turns, then we make our stand!” SSGT Mathews called out to his teammates, “we reach the lift and I’ll take over with suppressive fire!” Another turn. “Reload between shifts until the last mag!” Another turn, “Ajax, you take my rifle and I’ll use the M90 to—”
 
It was no fault of his own that SSGT Colt Mathews fell into the chasm of pulsating tissue below, as the slick panels before the service lift had been eroded by Flood secretions into something of a gnarly trap of sorts. It was deep, and as Mathews collided with the bottom of the pit, he was quickly enveloped by a flurry of malformed appendages and tendrils. Armor eroded, flesh tore, and the team’s military lead was gone.
 
“Aaagghh!” The ODST’s scream split the bustling corridor, and Dr. Vance nearly fell in after him; CPL Ajax once again seized her wrist and held her at the chasm’s edge.
 
“Make a left!” They dodged the pitfall and fled from their intended exit point, “shoot until you’re dry!” 
 
Dr. Vance obliged, and blasted into the pursuing horde until the weapon’s slide locked back. There was another door, sealed like before, and the two survivors knew there was only one course of action. Again, they narrowly escaped, another man lost.
 
---
 
Her wrists and forearms were on fire, hands tender from firing the M6C at such a rapid speed. There was no telling how many the doctor had destroyed, but her weapon was empty, and the Flood were numerous. 
 
“H-How?” Natalie stammered, “how did they gloss over such an infestation with this much biomass.” Perhaps there was only a few spores a couple months ago, and perhaps some of the covenant forces had been hiding below this facility after their battle with Sierra 117. When the derelict ship crashed during the Flood breach they could’ve been infected and retreated to hibernate below, choosing to fester and swell in secrecy. The doctor could only theorize, but either way their current situation seemed utterly hopeless.
 
“It doesn’t matter,” He slipped out his second to last magazine, and popped the final into place, “I think it’s time we bit the bullet, pun not intended.” He extended her a spare magazine to the M6C, “you believe in God, Natalie?”
 
“I don’t see how that releva—” She understood the meaning of his question, “Ajax, no.”
 
The CPL’s voice was drained, “I can’t be one of those things. If it means a quick burst to the dome or getting my spinal column rearranged by an alien parasite, that’s an easy pick for me.” He removed his helmet, it wasn’t as if he’d need it much longer, and Dr. Vance couldn’t help but study his features. CPL Ajax Masters’ face was covered in a thin layer of burn scars, with green eyes contrasting the rippled skin that surrounded them; black hair had been shaved into a buzzcut. 
 
In the battle for New Mombasa, a plasma grenade took the lives of two squad mates. Ajax, still a private at the time, was a safe distance away, but the sheer heat of the grenade boiled the skin from his forehead and cheeks; luckily for him, ODSTs were fond of their helmets. 
 
She placed a hand on the soldier’s plated wrist, “It won’t matter. They’ll piece your consciousness back together, Ajax. I, mean, it’s all theory but—” The door shook under the force of Flood intruders. “I’m saying it won’t matter.”
 
He gripped the rifle tightly, “Then what do we do?”
 
Dr. Vance, who had strangely enough resigned to her fate, slapped in the spare magazine, “I guess we take as many as we can with us, and when a MAC cannon wipes this place off the map, we’ll have had the last laugh.” Her hands were still quivering, the pounding was growing louder on the other side, and both the soldier and doctor knew their time was almost up. “How about we go out blazing, Hell Diver style?”
 
“Oorah.” The CPL gave her a nod, then handed Natalie his M9, “it comes to it, pull the pin, and pray to 4.” She removed her full-face respirator and gave him a weak smile, their barrier hissing as the pressure began to give way.
 
The steel door buckled soon after, and several infection forms rushed through the freshly formed opening; they exploded against a barrage of small arms fire. In between shots, Vance noticed a carrier form waddling on its deformed legs to the twisted pneumatic door. “Ajax down!”
 
It exploded, blasting the steel door into the tight quarters, and its jagged edge shredded the CPL’s right arm as it soared into the room, barely missing Natalie. He let out a shrill scream and dropped the nearly empty BR55 to the ground. Dr. Vance Scrambled backwards, yanking on the pistol’s trigger only to realize that it was dry once more; they were everywhere now. 
 
She was hyperventilating, watching as the infection forms were beginning to amass; something else lurked behind them. The good doctor remembered her gift from the ODST, reaching for the fragmentation grenade and placing a hand on its primer and a finger looped through its pin. 
 
“Natalie, p-pull it!”
 
She winced her eyes for a moment, ready to comply, but then something shook her, so deeply that her entire body tensed up: it was Mathews. Well, a warped version of him, so distorted and corrupted that he was barely recognizable as once human. His neck had been pushed into what was once a chest cavity, two probing “feelers” flailed from the SSGT’s exposed windpipe; tears were welling up in Natalie’s eyes. His face, the same one that shot her that warm, reaffirming glance, was broken and contorted into a mess of bone and blood. It was wrong.
 
“Do it! N-Now!” A bubbling infection form leapt onto his chest and a struggle began. CPL Ajax screamed louder than ever before. 
 
The combat form that was once the SSGT sputtered and groaned in an unnatural spasm of gurgling, taking its time as it lurched towards Dr. Vance. Her big blue eyes squeezed tight, finger shaking on the grenade’s pin, then, darkness. 
---
 
When Vance awoke, she was engulfed in darkness and surrounded by a viscous substance; ears humming, as if static was being broadcasted directly into her mind. 
 
The young woman tugged at her arms, but they failed to obey her commands, unable to discern whether they’d been bound or if she’d been paralyzed; how was she alive? 
 
It was a question that would soon be answered, as a discarded helmet’s headlamp suddenly flickered on. Its visor had been crushed inward and it was caked in blood; the incapacitated doctor had a sinking feeling of who it belonged to. Though she had bigger issues, as the reality of her situation had become far more disturbing.
 
She was trapped in some sort of room; not that it would’ve been discernable from any other. A thin membrane of yellowish resin coated the walls, ceiling, and floor; clusters of Flood spores swirled in the sickly-sweet air. Natalie was panicking now, her chest heaving beneath the soiled lab coat and filthy hazmat gear. At some point her neat bun had been undone and now greasy auburn hair fell over her face and shoulders. The right lens of her glasses had been shattered and the left arm snapped in half. Natalie held her breath and tears formed along the ridges of her eyes. As futile as it was, she didn’t feel infected, but after seeing the transfigured corpse of the SSGT she was deathly afraid of becoming so. Eventually, she had to gasp for air, and when no noticeable transformation occurred, her analytical mind was sent down a rabbit hole. 
 
What had happed after she and Ajax were overwhelmed?
 
Was she immune?
 
Why relocate her?
 
All would be answered soon, as something stirred in the ceiling above her. A section of the membrane separated and a pulsating orb of fleshy resin squelched and spasmed. It was absolutely repulsive, even more so when a combat form descended the meaty shaft. Once again, the corpse of Mathews shambled into the chamber; Natalie averted her eyes, and tried once again to strain her arms into action. Moments later several puss filled infection forms followed their larger counterpart, writhing near its feet as if waiting for commands. 
 
The larger parasite approached the incapacitated woman, extending its elongated claw-arm; the tip was a razor-sharp bone fragment. Dr. Vance prepared for the worst, ready to be assimilated by the disgusting creature, but was even more shocked as it surgically sliced through her articles of clothing. “W-What?” She stammered, trying to make sense of such peculiar behavior. It moved intently, and in no time had cut the lab coat, hazmat covers, and her trousers to ribbons; they limply hung as tatters. It was the smaller infection forms’ turn, each of which descended upon her like a pack of hungry vermin and secreted a sticky fluid onto the scraps. 
 
The smell was offensive, making her nose wrinkle and eyes water, but it quickly dissolved through the fibers and left her utterly naked. Natalie blushed out of both embarrassment and rage. Was this some sick joke? She had reasonably sized breasts, a slender body, and a pair average hips and thighs. The doctor was a bookish woman after all; nothing to gawk at but quite enough to fantasize about. Her skin was filthier than before, but the secretions didn’t burn. The combat form shambled to the furthest corner of the chamber and locked into place, mutated muscles occasionally jerking about as it waited in the darkness. 
The doctor was ready to die, feeling as if she’d just been prepared for some unimaginable ceremony; a feeling that wasn’t too far from the truth.
 
The infection forms slithered up the wall and departed through the flesh-like ingress, and after a couple of minutes a single pulsating one returned, though this one was unlike any other she’d ever seen. Rather than a bubbling sack of spores with a pair of twitching antenna, this one was much more rigid and elongated, it crawled into the room on a dozen or so sickly-looking tendrils as if it were a giant centipede; easily 2-3’ long. 
 
“God no,” Natalie mumbled, trying to regain control of any part of her body, “just kill me.” It approached on the glossy surface below her feet, feeling about the waxy floor as if it were blind and needed to find the way. Finally, it approached her curling toes, and began its ascent up Natalie’s grime covered legs. “No, no, no, no—” The ever-frantic doctor let out a silent gasp as its “head” stopped at the base of her womanly mound; soft cheeks hot with a river of tears. 
 
It changed course, and the doctor could barely release a sigh of relief before it continued up her body, this time coiling around to the base of her spine; the nightmare resumed. This undocumented infection form had found its destination, spreading its tendrils around her ribs and breast to secure itself. “Stop,” Dr. Vance begged between sobbing, “Stop!” Its head aligned with the nape of her neck and slick, needle-like feeler jammed into her brain stem. 
 
Her mouth flew open as if to scream, but nothing came out, hanging agape even after all the air in her lungs was gone. Light blue eyes rolled into the back of her head, tears still streaming onto the fungal infused ground below; saliva was beginning to run from her lips as well. 
 
It was, indescribable, as the lone survivor’s mind was assimilated into the messy network that was this infestation. Without a gravemind, it was as though a thousand voices and personalities were competing for dominance within one body. Their knowledge was disorganized and desperately trying to sort itself out; Dr. Vance could change that, or at least they or it hoped. That said, she wouldn’t go so easily into the fold. 
 
Her legs convulsed, fingers tensed and curled into tight fist as the violated ONI officer mustered all of her will against the encroaching horde. She knew too many secrets, too many— “Dr. N-Natalie— V-V-Vance.” Her moistened lips trembled, “I a-am.” The parasite released a shot of something potent directly into her nervous system and an overwhelming sense of rapture overtook her. Natalie’s snatch tightened and quivered, already secreting a thin line of discharge. Even as the stagnant air touched the hair on her arms she was nearly compelled to a powerful climax; she could hear the voices.
 
“We’re here, dig further!” SSGT Mathews called from the swirling darkness that was rooting itself in her mind. 
 
“Help us, Ms. Vance!” SGT Gary Rhys shouted in that rural drawl, pleading for her to come to his aid. In her mind’s eye the struggling doctor could see flashes of his final moments. 
 
“Help… help… HELP!” The final voice, belonging to CPL Ajax, shook what remained of her foundation. 
 
“Ajax!” she meagerly cried out into the void, trying to scrape together the fragments of her mind. They weren’t real, they couldn’t have been— Or, was that all that remained of them? “Her eyes glazed over, “P-Please w-what do y-you want,” she sputtered as if speaking directly to the parasite. 
 
From the darkness of the holding chamber, a figure emerged: herself. 
 
It was an exact replica, down to the matted hair and spore coated pale skin, except this version of Dr. Vance had a wonderful smile plastered across her resin caked face. It, no, she spoke, “Don’t worry Nat, we’ll get through this together.”
 
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