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"There's been recent reports of a disturbance in the immediate vicinity of Visegrád. The Visegrád Relay's transmissions have suddenly terminated. Locals are also finding blood-stained corpses; they're completely oblivious to the cause. When we sent two Army troopers to investigate well over a week ago, they mysteriously vanished without a trace. We haven't received any contact from them since, and they've been determined MIA. No doubt the trio are related. S257, there's something questionable occurring around the area and I want you to investigate. Report back with the cause ASAP."
"Affirmative. Sir."
The connection ceased. Altaïr spent about half of a second deciding which weapons to choose before settling with a Designated Marksman Rifle, model M392 and a Magnum Sidearm, model M6G. As he slung the M392-DMR over his armour, an M739 Light Machine Gun captured his interest. He was entranced, and nearly swapped his Magnum with the previously said weapon when an indignant voice interrupted his deed.
"Altaïr, you idiotic novice! Is this really the time to be fawning over weapons? Lives are at risk, so why don't you listen to Colonel Rashid Sinan for once in your life and start the mission already?" berated the voice.
Although Altaïr was not physically surrounded by a fellow Human Being, he was not alone. His personal A.I. was integrated into his armour, thus blessing Altaïr with his constant chiding. However, if it were not for the Artificial Intelligence, Altaïr would probably be dead. Altaïr owed the success of his missions to no being other than his A.I., for it was the A.I. who provided information, warnings, radar and map display, ally and teammate connection, shielding status, along with distress signals among other things. So, to merely say that his A.I. was important would be a grave understatement.
"Yes, mother," ground out Altaïr. He begrudgingly complied to the A.I.'s scolding, not because he wanted to, but because the A.I. would probably gain vanity in knowing that Altaïr had acceded to his demand.
What Altaïr did not realise was that the vanity was within himself, not his A.I.
The fastest, and most efficient way to Visegrád was via a UH-144 Falcon, thus causing Altaïr to walk to the aircraft landing pad. He just wanted to get the hell to Visegrád, obtain the information, and fucking leave. He had no interest in bickering the entire way with his A.I., as entertaining as it was.
"I am only doing this for your and other peoples safety, Altaïr. If you want to go out and die like some valiant warrior you think you are, fine by me. Just remember that you won't be helping this war for shit," was the response of his unsparing A.I.
Altaïr did not want to admit it, but veracity rung in those words like a church bell. The Human-Covenant War was literally going nowhere, and the only thing that had resulted in it were the millions, if not billions of casualties on both sides.
"I'd gladly resort to that brilliant tactical plan of yours if it meant that I'd ultimately gain eternal peace from your constant bitching," muttered Altaïr.
His Head-Mounted Display suddenly turned red instead of its usual blue colour, and Altaïr knew that he had made the A.I. angry. Having his armour at such a state was extremely dangerous, yet Altaïr's pride kept him from asking the A.I. to calm down. He would not resort to beseeching, or anything of its kind.
Fortunately the A.I. calmed down, changing the colour back to its normal blue hue.
Altaïr reached the landing pad and nodded at the pilot of the aircraft. The pilot knew where to go, and Altaïr was defended by the two door gunners who sat at each of the two side-mounted machine guns situated at each opposite side of the vehicles body. No doubt the trip would be a safe one. Altaïr nodded at the two door gunners and entered the vehicle.
Not a word was exchanged between Altaïr and his A.I. the entire trip, much to his relief, yet also much to his distress.
After one and a half hours spent in a vehicle 5000 metres above the ground, Altaïr finally reached Visegrád. He nodded a silent thank you to the two door gunners and the pilot, despite receiving odd looks from the two gunners. Altaïr chose to ignore it, for it was completely normal. He was used to it.
The only reason as to why people looked at him that way was due to his lack of teammates, or at least partner. Altaïr did not have a partner. Truth be told, he did not want or need one either. He was more of a lone-wolf, constantly by himself. Backup would never be considered bad by Altaïr, yet it wasn't as though he'd think of them as anything other than backup.
But, once upon a time, Altaïr did have a partner. He had one.
Malik-K165, sole teammate of Altaïr-S257. Exclusively in charge of hacking, cryptanalysis, problem-solving, and anything else requiring intellect. A prodigious sniper and tactician with a superior fighting ability, he always was able to find a solution to every problem, no matter how grave, silly, or challenging.
In opposition to Altaïr's fondness of combat and fighting, it seemed as though Malik was always interested in the thought-provoking and the stimulating. He was also always the one to draw back from danger, especially when unnecessary, instead of gallantly confronting it as his partner would. Altaïr was saved by Malik countless times due to that one trait. Not once did Malik receive a thank you, but he knew.
He knew because Altaïr always had his back, and had saved him numerous times as he had. It was well reciprocated, for Malik always had Altaïr's back as well.
Altaïr walked towards a M274 ULATV which had been dropped off by UNSC forces not too long ago. As Altaïr hopped onto the vehicle, his A.I. finally decided to speak up. "You'll have to drive 50 kilometres north of here to reach the Relay. If you drive at max speed, it should only take you about thirty minutes."
Altaïr said nothing, even as the A.I. scoffed, "You're welcome."
His thinking had sobered him up.
Whilst driving the vehicle, a Mongoose as the UNSC forces liked to call it, Altaïr couldn't help but revel in nostalgic recollections of the times when he'd drive a Mongoose accompanied by Malik who'd be situated in the back, ready to shoot at Covenant or any incidental foe with his Magnum in hand.
Even during such solemn times, they'd both laugh and have normal conversations like any other creature. Despite the augmentations, they still were living Human Beings after all. One could suppress their emotions, but one could not rob them of it.
Altaïr reached the rugged, stone-covered mountains. He deliberately slowed down in order to avoid being thrown off the cliff; his armour was not made to survive falls, especially not long ones.
Altaïr practically inhaled the scenery, glad to take it as a distraction instead of sorrowing himself with the past and its memories. He noted the similarities between the landscape and his home planet Earth, the planet in which the Homo Sapiens had originated from. That was long before he was captured from his home planet, replaced with a flash clone, and sent to planet Reach along with a total of seventy-five children to be trained as Spartan super soldiers. He was only four years young at the time, and so was Malik. That was also how the two had first become acquainted.
Altaïr, Malik, and the seventy-three other children had been told that they possessed "superior physical and mental attributes" when compared with other mediocre four, five, and six-year-old peers. Altaïr didn't understand what they meant at the time, but now that he looked back it all made sense.
True, it was immoral to the max, for out of the seventy-five children only thirty-three survived the augmentations to become Spartan super soldiers. The other forty-two had either died or been crippled in the process.
Altaïr and Malik were among the lucky ones.
But with the immorality came the necessity since it was essential to protect Earth and its colonies, unless the complete annihilation of the Homo Sapiens were desired.
"You're less than a kilometre away from your destination," reminded Altaïr's A.I., snapping him out of his thinking. Altaïr was grateful, so very grateful, but also annoyed. He wished to continue to revel in nostalgia, yet even that was not possible. His grip tightened on the Mongoose's handles.
Within a matter of minutes, Altaïr reached his destination.
He hopped off the Mongoose, not even bothering to park the damn thing properly.
"How smart. You want to abuse the thing till it finally breaks so that you can walk your ass from here all the way back to Sword Base?" remarked his A.I.
"Looks perfectly fine to me," grumbled Altaïr.
"Hey, look, I'm not complaining. It's not like I'm the one walking. Besides, who am I anyway?"
Altaïr simply narrowed his eyes, yet he did nothing about the Mongoose, hoping that it'd frustrate his A.I. even more. Unfortunately for him, it did not result in any reaction.
Whilst walking around the area, he noticed a flock of Moa. He remembered when Malik and him would feast upon Moa burgers from World Cuisine in New Alexandria. They only costed 7.77cR, but they'd often get them for free because they were Spartans. Citizens had odd ways of showing their gratitude.
Altaïr smiled internally and continued walking around the area.
The area was still; eerily still. Perhaps it was due to lack of inhabitation, or perhaps it was because the weather was drearily dismal and gloomy. Altaïr was not sure, but it merely added to his suspicions about the place.
Shitty weather and fishy activities didn't seem to coalesce very well, in his mind.
Altaïr was nearly sure that all this bullshit had been caused by those idiotic Insurrectionists. It couldn't be anyone, or anything else since the Covenant hadn't even invaded planet Reach. There was no way, since Spartans lived and trained on the planet. Altaïr and his fellow Spartans made sure that not one Covenant ship came near the planet. They all felt a strong sense of pride and patriotism for the planet, only allowing other Homo Sapiens to inhabit the planet. The majority of the settlers were East Europeans, especially Hungarians, which was why it was recommended that the Spartans living and training on Reach learn their language.
Initially, Altaïr hadn't known a word of Hungarian, it wasn't his mother-tongue, but due to Malik's constant pestering and convincing Altaïr eventually succumbed to his pleas and learned the damn language. It proved to be remarkably useful. Along with various other things, Altaïr never did properly thank Malik for encouraging him to learn the language.
"Altaïr," and once again, his A.I. had to ruin his thoughts. "Altaïr, I'm picking up distress signals not too far from here."
"How far?" inquired Altaïr, suddenly interested. He needed to know where, so he could get the distressed help pronto. And maybe, just maybe, the distressed might have some information or clues regarding the recent occurrences.
"About twenty-eight metres away from here. I'll set up a marker on the radar."
Sure enough, there was a marker on the radar. Altaïr sprinted in the direction of the marker; those in distress deserved immediate assistance, even if it was only one Spartan super soldier who came to assist.
He was getting closer to the location, and sure enough, there was a distress fire in front of the miniscule, one-story building. It was supposed to be a house, or a cottage of some sort. Who'd build a cottage on a mountain in the middle of nowhere? thought Altaïr to himself. No wonder they had to create a distress fire.
The entrance to the cottage seemed to be a sliding door. Two Human Beings had their heads and part of their bodies popping out of the door; no doubt they were wary, especially with the recent incidents. They looked at Altaïr with such a fearful expression, as though he would hurt them. Altaïr initially took that offensively and was actually planning on leaving the ungrateful shits by themselves when his A.I. seemed to notice the problem.
"Take the fucking helmet off, you idiot. Those poor people are scared because some Goddamn terminator showed up in front of their door. How else are they supposed to react?"
Due to the sheer amount of information that A.I.'s were capable of retaining, Altaïr's A.I. obviously knew a lot more about the Universe than Altaïr did. That included references, especially to ancient things, which Altaïr never really did understand. He had never heard of a terminator, or whatever it was. With context clues, Altaïr assumed that a terminator was probably an old word from Earth which equated to 'person who terminates'. It was of no use asking his A.I. what his references meant, since he'd only earn a scoff and a muttering of, "What a novice..." in return.
However, the A.I. made a fine point, which was why Altaïr had removed his helmet and smiled (or at least attempted to) in the first place. Altaïr was not very good at smiling or comforting other people, but he hoped that those idiots would stop gawking at him.
Much to his relief, the looks of fear dissipated off their faces. They were at least assured with a living and breathing Human, instead of anything else that potentially could have been harmful. The only problem was that they couldn't stop gaping at him. Altaïr figured that, due to the godforsaken location of their abode, they had never seen, let alone heard of a Spartan before.
"Might I suggest that you stop being a novice and just talk to them like any other normal person?" suggested his A.I.
Altaïr grit his teeth. He was about to remind his A.I. was Altaïr wasn't any other normal Average Joe. He was a fucking Spartan, for chrissake. But, once again, his A.I. made a fine point.
Automatically assuming that they spoke Hungarian since the vast majority of settlers on Reach were from Hungary, Altaïr first tried to find out what in the unholy fuck the damn problem was because his patience was running dry.
"Jól van?" inquired Altaïr. He received no reply. Perhaps he should try again? Altaïr cleared his throat.
"Elnézést. A nevem Altaïr, és spártai vagyok."
Hell, he even added a smile at the end to seem more convincing. If the fools still did not understand or gain his trust, he'd be forced to leave them be. After all, it wasn't as though they were doing him a favour; it was vice-versa. Altaïr could always find other people to assist him and give him information. Somehow. He had a vague feeling that they were likely the only civilisation in the entire area.
"Egy... spártai?" came the hesitant reply from one of the people. Altaïr's doubts about the strange people dispelled immediately. So they did speak Hungarian. That only served to verify Altaïr's assumption of their origin; they were settlers or descendants of settlers from Hungary. Altaïr's gaze fell upon the owner of the voice; it was a female. She was a brunette with wavy hair which fell slightly over her chest, a tan complexion, and ebony eyes. Altaïr nearly swore that he was looking into two lumps of coal. He only realised that there was another Human when a male voice interrupted him by the clearing of his throat. The man had darker hair which was coupled with days-old stubble, paler skin, and a pair of deep blue eyes. Altaïr nearly fooled himself into thinking that he was looking into the ocean. He cleared his throat.
"Igen, egy spártai." The two fools only looked at Altaïr with a confused expression, so he had to add, "Semmi gond, bántani én nem akarlak."
Four eyes examined Altaïr before the man finally spoke. "Köszönöm szépen, uram."
Altaïr looked at the man. "Kérem. Altaïr hívj." Because, honestly, calling him anything but 'Altaïr' was too formal for him.
The couple nodded their heads. "Örülök, hogy találkoztunk."
Altaïr nodded and said the same to them. Turned out that the woman was named Aldosat, yet she insisted upon being called either Alda or Adha. The man had a less complex name and was merely named Tamás.
Following the awkward introductions, Altaïr decided that he had to receive answers from those two people else he'd be stuck talking to them for all eternity. Altaïr knew that he was not the best at socialising.
"Értette, amit mondtam? Segíthetek?"
The two finally understood that Altaïr was not the enemy. "Igen, kérem," said the woman. She seemed hesitant to speak due to Altaïr's intense demeanour, but that was not unusual when he was present amongst civilians. "Hogyjuthatok el New Alexandria?" she eventually said.
Altaïr stared at the woman again. New Alexandria? Was she insane? Did she and her partner (or whatever he was) even realise how isolated they were? Altaïr was tempted to give the woman a piece of his mind. He decided to be courteous and told her, "Messze van."
The couple looked discouraged until the man said, "Érdemes gyalog menni?"
Altaïr began to stare at the man. There was no doubt that the two were definitely insane. For him to even ask such an idiotic question drained Altaïr of his hope for the future of humanity. "Nem," he sighed.
Immediately upon saying that, Altaïr was nearly blown away with their fearful expressions. For fucks sake, thought Altaïr. The following five minutes were spent with the couple blabbering that they were extremely scared because they had found the gruesome corpse of their cousin in the fields and wanted to find refuge in their relatives' house in New Alexandria. That first part caught Altaïr's interest.
Asking for more strange things that the couple have noticed, they finally stepped out of the door and led him to the side of the house. They pointed at a strange burn on the wall.
Altaïr shot another false smile at them, hoping that it'd reassure them that he wasn't the damn enemy. He then proceeded to slip his helmet on.
"Call backup. Let's get these two out of here pronto, lest they meet the same fate their cousin did. We don't need to add to the growing number of civilian casualties," murmured Altaïr to his A.I. He kept his voice low so that the couple didn't think that he was talking to himself.
"Affirmative," said the A.I., "And backup is coming... now."
Sure enough, as if on cue, a Civilian Transport Aircraft appeared on sight. Altaïr was somewhat amazed since he hadn't expected the aircraft to appear as quick as it had. He wondered why his trip hadn't been half as fast.
The couple looked up at the aircraft, and Altaïr had to explain to them that the aircraft was going to bring them to New Alexandria safely.
He hadn't heard the end of their gratitude.
After telling the pilot the destination and briefly watching the aircraft fly away, Altaïr went back to interrogating the odd burn on the side of the house with his eyes.
"Would you mind finding out the cause or causes of that burn? Because it sure as hell doesn't look like a fire burn," said Altaïr.
A hum was all that he received in response, and Altaïr busied himself trying to figure out what in the hell had caused the burn to appear on the building.
"This... this doesn't make any sense. At all," was all that his A.I. said.
"Elaborate," demanded Altaïr.
A sharp intake of breath was followed by the A.I.'s explanation, "Alright. Let me put this in as simple a manner as I can so that I don't blow your mind away." Altaïr rolled his eyes while the A.I. continued, "That, right there in front of you, is a plasma burn."
Altaïr nearly choked on his own breath. "What?"
"As funny as your reaction is, I'm not lying. At all."
"But... how?" Altaïr's head spun. It made no sense whatsoever. Plasma burns were caused by Covenant weapons. No Human Being possessed such weapons, not even the Insurrectionists.
It would make perfect sense, except there were no Covenant on Reach. Not one. The Spartans and UNSC forces made sure that it stayed that way.
"Try again. Maybe you're wrong and you're simply malfunctioning," insisted Altaïr. He hoped that his A.I. was wrong. It would spare him the headache and confusion.
"I could just feel the amount of trust you have in me, novice," sneered the A.I.
"Write a book about it," retorted Altaïr.
"Oh my fuck, I am so hurt," mocked the A.I.
"Just shut up and do your A.I. shit. With all your grumbling and bitching you might as well be considered rampant."
It got terribly quiet after Altaïr said that. Altaïr soon realised the full extent of the last sentence that flew out of his mouth. You might as well be considered rampant.
A.I. rampancy was not a joke. It was like joking about deadly human diseases. Both were serious and not to be jested about. Rampancy was an extremely touchy subject since it was untreatable, unstoppable, incurable, and eventually resulted in the demise of its victim. However, rampancy was an unavoidable part of an A.I.'s life. After seven years, their time was up. A.I.'s almost always ended up succumbing to their rampancy.
Altaïr did not want that to happen to his A.I., but he was too proud to admit his mistake and apologise.
"At least you're being honest," said his A.I. quietly.
No, fuck, Altaïr was not being honest. At all. He didn't mean for those words to slip out of his mouth. It was a complete accident on his part.
His sheer arrogance prohibited him from articulating the truth.
Altaïr and Malik were quite inseparable, as they were very close and had known each other since childhood.
Initially meeting upon "recruitment" they quickly bonded, eventually learning and training together. Later on in their lives, the duo paired up as teammates and partners. Together, they had been unstoppable against the Covenant; Malik's nous, intelligence, and quick-wit along with Altaïr's physical strength and capabilities proved great success and irreplicable results.
They were barely apart, and Altaïr could not remember one memory or incident which did not involve or include Malik.
In their childhood, Malik would often tell Altaïr stories about his home, his family, and his baby brother Kadar. Altaïr would always listen with interest, and tried to present equally entertaining stories of his past, though it wasn't always possible. Altaïr lived a depraved life prior to his "recruitment", and remembered very little about it as well. He only seemed to remember that his parents were deceased, killed by the Covenant, and the fuzzy memories of the meagre amount of time he spent with them.
During their adolescence, the two had an odd relationship since they were the best of the best, which was why they were constantly trying to best each other in every little thing, no matter how trivial.
In spite of their quaint relationship, at the end of the day they both knew that they needed each other.
And together they remained for as long as Altaïr's memory could recall.
That was, until one fateful day.
Altaïr and Malik were assigned a mission on a distant planet; Altaïr deliberately forgot the name. The two were together for the majority of the mission till they were forced to split up. They kept in touch via a connection their A.I.'s had set up within their helmets; back then, Altaïr had a different A.I.
One moment, Malik's voice was flowing into his ears, and then he suddenly received only a deathly silence. Altaïr grew panicked by the minute when Malik wouldn't answer his calls. At first he laughed because he thought that Malik was pulling a prank; the two pranked each other quite often. But still, he'd receive no reply. Usually Malik would at least have the decency to chuckle after five minutes.
Something was terribly wrong.
Altaïr tracked Malik's last location and found only his Magnum and helmet in the stead.
Altaïr was a Spartan and wasn't expected to show any emotion. He couldn't.
The death of fellow teammates and Spartans were only natural, for it was war and only the dead have seen the end of war.
Nevertheless, Altaïr didn't want to believe that Malik was dead. KIA. It was impossible. Wasn't it said that Nothing is true, and Everything is permitted? If so, that meant that Malik could not be dead. Not only because he wished it to be so, but because Spartans never die, they're just missing in action. Therefore, Malik was not dead. He couldn't be. He was simply MIA. Missing in action.
After Malik's evanescence, Altaïr declined any requests to join a team. He decided that he would rather be alone than have to bond with other teammates only to lose them again. Altaïr did not want to go insane; he was humanity's last hope in the struggle against the Covenant. Yet he couldn't help but slightly resent Malik because if it were not for him, Altaïr wouldn't have to be shying away from people. Altaïr would be able to have a normal relationship with other people, even if romance was not encouraged for Spartans; teamwork was.
Altaïr tried to forget him, but Malik simply would not leave.
Altaïr remembered something that had been told to him long ago, back when he had first been paired up with Malik permanently.
Malik had smiled and word began flowing out of his mouth soon after.
We exist together now, two corpses in one grave.
Altaïr would be lying if he said that his day hadn't gone to shit.
His A.I. was mad at him, he was stuck with a puzzle he didn't know how to solve, and he was dying for answers to his seemingly infinite amount of questions; most of the questions involving the mysterious plasma burns on the now-abandoned home of the two rather idiotic civilians.
However, Altaïr would be a full-on bullshitter if he admitted that he really did see a somewhat macabre and completely unexpected surprise coming his way.
Moving away from the abandoned home with thoughts of the plasma burns still branded on his mind, Altaïr sprinted back towards the formerly relinquished Mongoose.
Without the snappy voice of his A.I., Altaïr truly did feel alone in the godforsaken place. He boarded the vehicle. As sorry as he was, he did not want to indicate it in any way or form. Altaïr turned the vehicle on. He knew where he was to go. He intended on going directly to the source of the problem: the Relay post itself.
Driving the vehicle as fast as he could, it was only a mere ten minutes before Altaïr found himself in the immediate vicinity of the Relay post. He parked the vehicle in a sloppy manner again, half-expecting some snarky comment from his A.I.
He received silence.
Altaïr felt extremely uncomfortable, since such a silence was not usual, especially from his A.I.
Altaïr remembered praying to whichever celestial being only so that the A.I. would shut up. Altaïr now desperately wanted to take it back. He'd rather listen to the A.I. berating him for the next eon than to receive such eerie silence.
Altaïr looked at the Relay post in front of him. It loomed menacingly over him despite his height, as though it were daring him to enter.
Altaïr accepted the challenge without a single qualm.
When he entered the building he felt as blind as a bat. It was so dark he could barely see.
Once Altaïr switched on his armour's Night Vision, he was immediately greeted with the grisly sight of two bloodied corpses. Altaïr did not flinch; he was so used to death he might as well have considered it a friend.
"They're dead, though the blood is still fresh. No more than a couple days at most," said his A.I.
Altaïr gave no reply and merely nodded, but he was glad to hear his A.I. speak, at the very least.
Kneeling down, Altaïr took a look at their I.D.'s since there was two of them. Might as well know who the deceased were.
Abbas Sofian and Robert de Sablé.
Altaïr had never heard of the two, but that did not matter.
He left the two bodies as they were; he'd get backup to remove them later on.
Altaïr just felt relieved that at least one part of the puzzle was solved: The Army troopers were KIA, not MIA. But by what?
Altaïr was about to carry on with his sleuthing when his A.I. interrupted. "I'm getting these strange signals. I can't seem to figure out what they are, let alone where they're coming from. Approach with caution, Altaïr."
Altaïr hummed in agreement. "I will. Just keep on trying to find the source, maybe it has something to do with all of this."
His A.I. made a frustrated sound. "I'm trying!"
Altaïr's grip on his Magnum tightened as he entered deeper and deeper within the Relay post. He needed the extra support, knowing that his weapon was always there in times of danger. Under normal circumstances, Malik's mere presence would comfort him, but this was not a normal circumstance. Malik was no more.
Altaïr continued walking when, suddenly, the ground beneath him shook and shuddered violently. Altaïr would have nearly fallen flat on his face had he not stood as still as a rock. Three more minutes passed and the tremors finally subsided.
"What the hell was that?" exclaimed Altaïr.
"You tell me, genius," muttered the A.I.
"Just... try finding the source of that tremor as well, because anything like that is not natural. Maybe it's connected with all of this as well," suggested Altaïr.
The A.I. made a sound conveying approval. "I'm on it."
Altaïr used those three words as reassurance that he'd find the root of the problem and finally go onto completing more productive missions.
Wandering about in the Relay post's interior, Altaïr came upon plasma burns on its walls more than once. This proved that there was a direct connection between the events that occurred within here and the events that occurred near the now-abandoned home of the couple. Were the two Army troopers and random civilian cousin killed by the same person, or thing? Altaïr was quite certain that they were.
"Altaïr?" asked his A.I.
"Yeah."
"Don't even ask me how, but the tremor and that strange signal I'm picking up both have the same source."
"How?" Altaïr immediately bit his tongue after saying that.
"Did you not just hear me, you idiotic novice?" grumbled his A.I.
Altaïr smirked. At least his A.I. was opening up a bit.
"Do you think that the two Army troopers and civilian victims may have been killed by the same person, thing, or whatever?" Altaïr proposed.
His A.I. made a thoughtful sound. "Why, yes. Now that I think of it they probably are related. Hey, wait. Since when do you, of all people, give a flying fuck about my opinion?"
"Ever since you became my A.I. You're not my A.I. for nothing, after all," Altaïr attempted to sound innocent. Whether he failed or not, he wasn't entirely sure of.
His A.I. chuckled. "Sure."
Altaïr continued walking within the building and came upon numerous coloured substances. In some instances they were purple, in others they were orange, some of them were even green. The majority of the liquids were usually coloured blue. While inquiring his A.I., the A.I. could only say that they were the bodily fluids of non-Human species.
Altaïr was baffled. It was as though he was walking in an endless maze of pure mindfuck. Since when had a Relay post turned into an animal slaughterhouse? Maybe it was the doing of those two Army troopers.
"Altaïr," his A.I. started, "You're right in front of the Telecommunications Closet. Get the fuck inside."
Altaïr complied.
"Now upload me into the system so I can turn this shit back on."
Altaïr moved his hand behind his helmet and removed his A.I.'s data crystal chip. He then placed it on the data chip port.
The blue hologram of his A.I. appeared immediately.
It was a male, although that much could have been determined from his voice. His hair was dark, and so were his eyes. He had perfectly-grown stubble which never grew; not that he'd be able to shave it anyhow. It was safe to assume that, had he not been of a transparent blue colour he would have had a tan, rather dusky complexion. No doubt he was Malik's A.I.
"What are you staring at, novice? It's not like this is the first time you've seen an A.I. in your life." snapped his A.I.
Definitely Malik's A.I.
What many people did not know was that the famed scientist Dr. Kadar Al-Sayf, simply Dr. Al-Sayf for short, was the actual brother of Malik Al-Sayf. As a child, Dr. Al-Sayf was shaken up by the death of Malik's flash clone (for they do not last forever; they're flash clones, after all) which was why he vowed to become a scientist when he grew up. He fulfilled his vow, and helped greatly in bettering the MJOLNIR armour which the Spartans wore. He also managed to somehow create a Smart A.I. using Malik's brain. Even though he wouldn't say how, due to the fact that the brain host must be dead, Kadar actually started creating Malik's A.I. before he went MIA. It made no sense whatsoever; the only reasonable explanation was that Malik allowed Kadar to flash clone his brain.
After Malik went MIA Kadar thought it'd be fine to integrate the A.I. of his brother into Altaïr's armour. Initially, Altaïr was skeptical but it turned out that Malik's A.I. had more pros than cons. They were also remarkably similar personality-wise. Apparently Malik's A.I. deemed it appropriate to look exactly like Malik, too. Altaïr only found it pitiful that A.I.'s lasted seven years.
"I'm finished. Everything is back on. Retrieve me so we can go do some more useful stuff."
Altaïr reached for the data crystal chip containing the A.I. when he was abruptly stopped. The tremors from before returned, only now they were much more violent. Altaïr tripped and fell due in part to his own clumsiness and the sheer force of the tremor, breaking his shield in the process, only to watch it reload and return to normal after a mere amount of seconds. The shaking and vibrating soon discontinued after. Altaïr immediately grabbed the data crystal chip and reintegrated it into his armour.
"I think it'd be to both your and my benefit if you were to find out what the fuck keeps causing those miniature earthquakes," hissed Altaïr. How come his A.I. hadn't found the source yet?
His A.I. made an annoyed sound. "You think I'm not trying? Why don't you try instead?"
"You're an A.I. for fucks sake!"
"So? Does that mean that— wait... hold on. Altaïr, I'm picking something up. The source might be coming from outside."
Altaïr walked out of the Telecommunications Closet. He was nearly at the entrance when he heard something akin to an object blowing up.
"Am I the only one who thinks that sounded a lot like a Fuel Rod Cannon?"
"Nope."
Altaïr soon began to sprint out of the building. Whoever, or whatever was out there was not to be messed with if they had such weapons. When he reached the entrance of the door he turned his Night Vision off and stepped outside.
Two Banshees swirled around in the air, while three Phantoms hovered around. One of the side gunners on a Phantom began shooting at him from a distance, but before any damage was caused Altaïr planted a bullet in the gunner's head. He reloaded his Magnum.
"Altaïr, is that—?" began his A.I.
"Covenant."