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Legacy of The Precursors

Chapter I

Spartan Conner-066 sat in the captains cabin deftly twirling his fifteen inch, diamond composite, stained black KA-BAR in his massive gauntleted fingers. The chair was designed with a fully geared spartan in mind. Still it creaked dangerously when he moved. His brain was preoccupied by a whirlwind of thoughts. He was bored so feeling nostalgic he thought back to all the events that led him here.

The Great War ended in 2553. He was only five when the covenant found earth and his family died. After their death an ONI operative by the name of Sandra offered him a chance at revenge. He immediately accepted. She took him to a super secret compound on one of the recently discovered forerunner shield worlds. He asked her why he was so important, what made him so special, and what they had planned for him.

She had replied "we need another hero." Since the master chiefs disappearance ONI had been searching for an individual that displayed the same desirable traits that he did. Apparently Conner was the one. He was to be different then any other spartan before him.

For starters he was the only one at the compound. There were no other kids, no other Spartans in training. Only him, his instructor Marcus, the ONI agent Sandra, and the base personnel. They also had improved the drug cocktail that they used to enhance Spartans. It was more potent and effective. His armor and equipment would also be better then the top of the line, most being experimental.

He wasn't really a spartan IV. He was just put under the moniker. The way he was trained and at his age were still considered unethical by the citizens of the UNSC. They used the IV title as a smokescreen to mask the truth.

He trained on that base for eleven years. On the ninth year he was put through the augmentation process. It was the most excruciating and agonizing thing he had ever been through. But the results were worth it. After it was all said and done he gained an extra foot and was now six feet and five inches tall, and he wasn't even done growing at the time. His muscle density had been increased and his bones coated in ceramic plate. He could lift tanks and other heavy vehicles. His test score in tactics and combat evaluation had skyrocketed.

The only problem was when he was placed into spartan IV teams. He exhibited a sort of lone wolf syndrome. Most likely caused by his isolated development. He clashed with his superiors and was reckless and brutal in combat, even more so then spartans usually were. Yet he always got the job done no matter the cost to infrastructure or regards to civilians safety.

ONI approved of his efficient strategies. So they took him out of the spartan core and struck him from the records after his third year running ops with IVs and marines. Then he was give the largest and most advanced prowler in ONI's arsenal. The Spirit of Vengeance. It was the first of an independent line of constructs from the shipyards towed from Trevalyn to Salvador.

The prowler was infused with forerunner tech and human ingenuity. It was the largest ship that the UNSC built that could achieve complete and total stealth. It was a hybrid vessel. Part carrier, cruiser, and prowler. The designers made it self sufficient as well. Two and a half kilometers long it was one of the largest UNSC ships ever constructed and was one of the most heavily armed.

The Spirit of Vengeance had six plasma projectors two super Mac cannons, six hundred and fifty archer, rapier, and howler missile pods as it's offensive armament. Its defensive capabilities and close in emplacements consisted of a network of four hundred 70mm cannons and a large number of onager mini macs. The spirits shields were reverse engineered from forerunner dreadnoughts. All of these were powered by the three flash point graviton generators which also maintained the the rest of the spirits systems.

All in all it was one of the most advanced and dangerous vessels in the UNSC's arsenal and it was given to a spartan. A spartan, who technically never existed. He was on its shakedown cruise, it's maiden voyage. He and his crew were just patrolling the far reaches of the known galaxy. A simple and easy assignment.

"Commander, your presence is requested on the bride." A voice interrupted his musings.

He didn't respond to the hail. He just got out of the complaining chair, it let out a humanlike sigh of relief, and exited his cabin. He was not one to bandy words around. Conner-066 plowed through the corridors drawing nervous and fearful glances from his crew. They had heard allot about him. Antisocial, violent, quiet, and recluse, even more so then any other spartan, all of these things they whispered to each other. He never bothered to dissuade them.

The bridge doors opened with a clang and he swiftly strode to the man who summoned him. His heavy metal boots making a loud thunks. He never said a word, he just stared at the sweating ensign through the red visor of his all black warrior power suit.

The poor ensign looked up at the towering armored behemoth and began to stutter. "S-s-sir t-their is a spa-c-cal ano-m-maly in the sector."

".....so?" He replied in his rough as shattered glass voice further amplified by the suit radio. His larynx and voice box were damaged in the augmentation procedure, but not irreparably so. The doctors could have fixed it but he had declined. He didn't care about material cosmetic changes.

"S-should we i-i-investigate?"

Conner-066 just continued to look at the ensign. His stare provided the answer he was looking for.

"O-o-of c-course sir r-r-right away!" The ensign hastily beat feet away from the intimidating spartan in front him and shouted for the bridge crew to set the coordinates and reenter slipspace.

Conner just scoffed internally and took his usual place at the back of the room, away from all the annoying and frail bridge crew. He knew it wasn't their fault, and he didn't truly dislike any of his crew. In fact they see all outstanding men and women. Its just that they were not at the standards he would want from his crew. And honestly they didn't even need to be here the dumb A.I could handle all the functions.

While he spent time thinking over what it would be like to not have a crew, the Spirit of Vengeance opened a slipspace tear and glided through.

The slipspace engines were of forerunner design so it only took a few minutes for them to arrive at the anamoly. When the Spirit slid out of the hole on space time Conner and his crew got a good look at the anomaly.

Conner had just one thought. 'It sure was anomalous.'

Just off the ships prow was a titanic wormhole. It's blue red swirling waves were somewhat hypnotic. The wormhole was big, it dwarfed the impressive visage of the Spirit. This was definitely something that needed to be reported immediately.

"Communications officer get me a line to fleetcom!" He barked harshly.

"Right away sir!" The dark skinned man quickly began to open a line of communication through a buoy at the edge of the system. As the man types on the console Conner's executive officer shouted in panic.

"Commander Cherenkov radiation is being ejected out of the anomaly and we're being pulled!"

"I want maximum burn, get us away from that wormhole!"

"Yes sir, engines at maximum."

Conner nodded and watched as they slowly pulled away. After severely minutes he noticed that they were getting closer not farther.

"Status report!"

"Sir! The gravitational pull is to intense, we can't get out of its radius!"

"Divert all power to the engines, everything but life support!"

The deck was a maelstrom of activity as the crew did their best to prevent the ship from being sucked into the wormhole. Soon they even had to turn of the artificial gravity. The crew floated around until they tethered themselves to their workstations. "Sir it's not enough we're still being drawn in!"

The bridge was silent as they all realized their would be no escape. This is where a normal commander would blather on of how it was an honor and whatever else they did. Conner just stood there unflinching as he vehemently gazed at his end.

The Spirit of Vengeance was violently tugged into the wormhole. The bridge shook and people were tossed out of their seats like rag dolls and thwacked into the unforgiving walls. Conner's enhanced ears could hear the snapping of fragile bones. The only reason he wasn't thrown of his feet was his considerable weight and his magnetized boots. He heard the radiation warnings in his suit spike. It was lethal enough to kill everyone on the ship. He could see his crew convulsing in pain. There was nothing he could do. Then he was finally ripped of his feet and tossed into a bulkhead and hit it so hard he blacked out.

---

Admiral Adams sat in his chair on the bridge of the CDF Ironside. The old terrier had a mug of coffee that was cooling slowly on his armrest. The wispy faint trails of steam daintily floated into the many times recycled air. The last week had been boring, nothing but standard patrols and occasional pirate activity. Even the crew was bored. Adam could swear he saw Donnels playing an old arcade game at his station.

"Anything to report?" He asked his second in command hopefully. Seriously even a pirate raid would be something.

"No sir." The female otter replied, tail swinging lazily behind her tracing abstract patterns on the decking. "Wait!"

Adams jumped up in his seat surprised, knocking over his mug and sending coffee all over the floor. "What?"

"Admiral deep space scans have detected strange readings coming from the neighboring sector!" She replied quickly and efficiently.

"What type of readings?"

"Sir they are similar to the reading from the Beltino gate systems!"

"Hmmm set a course, gather the fleet and get us there now."

"Right away sir!" The bridge lit up with activity as the bored crew had finally managed to find something interesting.

"I hope it's nothing too interesting." The admiral muttered as the fleet of ten ships activated their hyperdrive and vanished in a flash of light.