Phoenix Logs/Campaign Logs

Main Campaign

The Signal

The Healing of Old Wounds I Journal of Nathaniel J. Palmer, Archaeologist, Henry Lamb Research Outpost. Personal Diary Date: 03/16/2558 The will and resilience of life never ceases to amaze me. Infinite permutations of bacteria, animals, and plants all exist as a direct result of the endless struggle and adaptation against a hostile universe. This installation, light years from the galactic center, is a paragon of that fact. When we first arrived here, the Ark had suffered great wounds from our war against the Covenant, and so we activated dormant retriever sentinels and deployed them to strip-mine lifeless planets for the materials needed to repair the installation. Like watching a sleeping giant nudged into wakefulness, the reconstruction slowly reached full automation until we were no longer needed to guide the sentinels and could simply sit back and record the wonder of a world being reborn. [1/3] The Healing of Old Wounds II It has been three months now since we established the outpost, and each day we wake up to some new, shift in our surroundings as its Sentinels repair and rebuild the Ark around us. I have witnessed dense forests spring up from pit-black, barren terrain over the span of a week and monitored a particularly virulent strain of weed checked by the reintroduction of voracious, insectoid parasites before it could strangle the budding plants nearby. [2/3] The Healing of Old Wounds III My role as an archaeologist has been inverted. Instead of peeling back the layers of the past to reveal hidden truths, I watch and document those layers being placed and marvel at the subtle ambiguities. More than anything, I want to tell my family back home about the wonders I've seen, but for now I have to be content with news from home until the confidentiality contract is lifted. So much to talk about - we could learn so much here! [3/3] A New Bridge to Cross I Journal of Nathaniel J. Palmer, Archaeologist, Henry Lamb Research Outpost. Personal Diary Date: 04/02/2558 Isabel, our new smart AI, has embraced our new home with a wonder and enthusiasm that matches our own. She is a young AI and this is her first assignment but even so, her excitement for discovery and investigation is infectious among the team. I even caught Brewer, the most jaded of the scientists here, swapping jokes with her while they worked. Although we are hesitant - and too worldly - about admitting it openly, it feels like we are on the cusp of a new era. [1/3] A New Bridge to Cross II The Human-Covenant War often felt impossible to win, or at least, would be so prolonged that as a race we would end it exhausted and broken, retreating back to our own galaxy, cowed by the power of a greater enemy. Instead, it proved that there was always hope, and that even enemies can become allies. Now the war is over and events have brought us to the Ark. Peace reigns, and we have the time and resources to unlock some of the mysteries of the Forerunners. We've been mired in war for so long -perhaps now mankind can focus on development, on self-enrichment, for a change. [2/3] A New Bridge to Cross III As I have cataloged the marvels of the Ark, I've come to realize it is not simply repairing itself from the ravages of the war, but remains remarkably adaptable to change. Only this morning, I watched in awe as giant tectonic plates rearranged, shifted and unfolded to form a new pathway across a chasm. My amazement at the size of these things was only matched by the naturalness of the movements, as graceful as a flower opening in time-lapse. If eon's-old technology can move with the present, if it can adapt and change to work in harmony with the universe, then perhaps we can learn to evolve as well. [3/3]

A New Enemy

The Graveyard Palmer, Nathaniel J. Archaeologist, Lamb Research Center. Personal Diary Date: 11/28/2558 Fifteen of us managed to escape the attack. I still don't know if anyone else made it out. We were returning from a survey expedition when we heard the first explosions. I ran back, following the plumes of black smoke rising into the evening sky from just over the bluff. Sounds of UNSC gunfire were soon drowned out by the too-familiar whine of plasma weapons, confirming our worst fears. As we looked down at the horror below, we saw several hulking outlines move amongst the shadows. Jiralhanae, I think. Brutes. They were everywhere. The air was filled with the smell of burning ozone as a couple of bright, electric blue shapes arced their way toward us. We scattered as the plasma blast hit, vaporizing the trees nearby and showering us with ash and debris. We instinctively turned and ran. My ears were ringing and the ground shook, but we somehow managed to stay together. I yelled at everyone to keep moving, to not look back no matter what. But when the firing stopped I couldn't help myself, I turned around and witnessed the orbital plasma bombardment of our home firsthand. It didn't last long. I didn't need to. But the finality of it will be forever seared into my memory. We've been on the run for three days now. The grime and smoke and ash clings to our clothes, our hair. We sleep in shifts, but not for very long. Every sound wakes us with a start and we expect to see the enemy bearing down on us. We don't know where we're going but we've found some temporary shelter amongst some old wreckage from the last time humanity was here - skeletons of the past. I can't help but think of the people we left behind. Will the Ark simply clean them away as it repairs itself? As if they never existed, layering fresh grass and fauna over their graves until the scars are no longer visible? They should not be forgotten. I think of you and I pray we are not at war again. Rise of Atriox I ONI Section Zero Board//Surveillance transcription of internal communications between subjects 'D' and 'S', 02.15.2550 0313 hrs//Full transcript available on request// ['D'] Whatever it is you woke me for it had better be good. I have a 0600 with Zero and I'm going to need my full four hours to keep ahead of them. ['S'] Yes, sir. It's one of the Unggoy we captured. It's offering information in exchange for a deal. ['D'] A grunt? Why are you wasting my time? Those things don't know HOW to tell the truth. Besides, something that far down the chain won't have access to plans. Not beyond kitchen duty anyway. ['S'] You're right, sir. But it's not about the Covenant. The Unggoy says he was snatched from the Covenant. You remember the attack on Carter Guard Armory six weeks ago? ['D'] I'm still trying to make up the losses from the fallout. They took everything we had and left no survivors. I've never seen the Covenant take our gear like that before. Are you telling me we have a splinter group to contend with now? ['S'] Maybe. Whether they're our problem too is another matter. I started doing some digging and the group's targets seem to be chiefly Covenant. I guess hit what you know, eh? Anyway, I pulled the security vids of the raid to get the Unggoy to identify the leader. ['D'] And did the grunt ID? Do we have a visual? ['S'] Pulling it up now. It's a little blurry, but what you're about to see is the leader, a Jiralhanae, fighting a squad of ODSTs. There's a lot of blood, sir. It's not an easy watch. ['D'] Good lord. Is he beating that ODST with...? Do we have a name? ['S'] We do, sir. From the Unggoy. Says his name is Atriox. ['D'] Make sure no one else talks to that grunt. I want this compartmentalized. Some at ONI will see this as a problem to be fixed, not an opportunity. Find out all you can on this Atriox and keep me informed.

Ascension

The Turn of the Screw Palmer, Nathaniel J. Archaeologist, Lamb Research Center. Date: 01/17/2559 It has been two months since the attack and our group has atrophied to eight. Four disappeared one night while the rest of us slept. Each of them had argued with us that week about returning to the base to see if they could reopen the portal, so I can only hope they left in the night to go back without us. Three we lost to thirst, hunger and the elements. I am ashamed to notice that our smaller group is now more manageable - finding food and water is easier with fewer mouths to feed. During this time, the invaders have not been idle. Yesterday we stumbled upon what seems to be some kind of transport route, moving resources they're mining to supply their forces. The lanes sprawl out across the land like a spider web, with all the grace and aesthetics of Forerunner design. We rested and argued for a while about which direction to head in. There was a real danger we could accidentally stumble upon an enemy base, but that could also lead to supplies, perhaps even a vehicle we could steal. We are hungry and exhausted and cannot last much longer in the wild. One of us, Brewer, said as much and not for the first time raved about surrendering. We thought we had talked him out of it but the next morning he had gone. If he had successfully surrendered he could have given away our position, so we had no choice but to start moving immediately. We look for cover but avoid the trees because I have seen strange shimmers and movement amongst them. I am scared and tired and want to give up. But that won't get me back to you. Rise of Atriox II