Phoenix Logs

A log found in the game's campaign.

In Halo Wars 2, Phoenix Logs are a collection of codex entries that provide background information on units, characters, and other events of the Halo universe. Much like its predecessor’s collectible Black Boxes, which unlocked Timeline entries in the game, the Phoenix Logs can be unlocked by both feats of completion as well as collection and be accessed from the game’s campaign menu.

Multiplayer Maps

Ashes The wreckage of a Covenant freighter lies scattered across the amber wasteland. This hostile environment, blood-red and battered by harsh winds, is rendered even crueler by the scorched and smoking remains of a Covenant freighter, blasted out of the sky by Forerunner defenses. The impact trench created by the crash leads down into a deep crater, where the force of the collision has destroyed the top layer of the refugia, revealing the proto-Forerunner substructure running underneath. Badlands The unforgiving desert threatens to engulf this Forerunner bastion and all who fight there. "I was tired. I signaled to the Grunt on the other side of the door, undid the lock and stepped back, hands held up where it could see me. The Grunt got up slowly and started walking towards it. I had stumbled upon the abandoned research outpost a couple of days ago after a week in the howling desert wind. My entire squad had been killed in a Banished ambush, but I was saved - then damned - by a sudden sandstorm that covered my escape. Then came a week walking through the biting wind, ears dulled by the constant whine, almost delirious with starvation. I tried to cry when I first saw the outpost, but I was so dehydrated I could only choke out a a[sic] few guttural noises. With the researchers long dead the outpost was filthy and a stale smell hung in the air, but the quiet hum of the power systems after the noise of the desert felt like home. I found fresh clothes, enough food stocks for six months and a communication system that I thought I could get working within a few days so I could contact the Spirit of Fire. I ate a large meal, found a cot and fell asleep in seconds. A crash woke me up, and I crept into the corridor to see a Grunt inside the pantry, searching for supplies - I wasn't the only one who had gotten lost in the storm. I slammed the door and locked it. Trapping the Grunt inside. He spun around, shocked to see someone else and then tried to barge through the door. But it was too heavy. He started pacing around in circles, which is when he saw my gun propped up against the refrigerator inside the pantry. We had a standoff; he was trapped, but I was unarmed and couldn't get to the food. My only hope was the communications equipment. After three days without food, I was ravenous and having lapses in concentration. I weighed the risks and decided to let the Grunt out so I could get to the supplies. As he crossed the threshold of the door he triggered the tripwire, setting off the small explosion I had cannibalized from the communications equipment. I dragged his body to the side of the pantry and took a drink from the refrigerator. I wasn't going to be calling anyone anytime soon—but neither was the Grunt." Report found in abandoned outpost, author unknown. Bedrock The sub-structure of an incomplete refugia stands ready to continue the Ark's work. The Ghost skimmed the surface of the Forerunner terrain as its Elite rider deftly dodged the latest salvo of enemy fire from the Hornets hounding it, effortlessly taking a sudden sharp turn to widen the gap between the pursuers. This particular Sangheili was a confident and experienced driver, a far cry from the Ghost's first owner. The Ghost first saw service in 2552 on the planet Reach, but it was short-lived. The young Sangheili who drove it then was overeager and reckless, so sure of the Covenant's superiority that he rushed ahead of the rest of the squad and was quickly picked off by UNSC sniper fire before being able to baptize the Ghost's plasma cannons. The Ghost sat out the rest of the battle until being collected and returned to a Covenant dropship. In 2552, the Ghost and its new rider were deployed to the Ark where it fought in the climactic battle of the Human-Covenant war - this time piloted by a veteran Jiralhanae warrior However, despite the Ghost pilot's combat experience he was unprepared for the Demon. Who surprised the Brute from nowhere and threw his body from the vehicle. Amazingly, this Demon demonstrated all the skill of a trained Jiralhanae in using the Ghost's tricky controls. turning the Ghost's plasma cannons against its own kind and using it as a bludgeoning tool to ram through clusters of shrieking Unggoys. This Demon, the Ghost's third driver, was the shortest owner and quickly abandoned it once it had started belching smoke from the damage inflicted upon it. Years of respite from battle followed, as the Ghost lay dormant among the other Covenant wreckage, undisturbed. With the return of humans to the installation, the Ark started rebuilding itself and repairing the damage. Life and fauna returned to the Ark and the Ghost became home to insects and small animals, while creeping weeds grew around and into it, strangling its controls. Then the Banished arrived and the Ghost was torn free from its resting place and repaired by Huragoks, then reshaped to fit a more brutal, battle torn Banished aesthetic and it once again had a driver and a war to fight in. Now, the Ghost was now closing in fast on its target. Shades of azure flashing by in a blur as the Elite manipulated it up and down the ramps and curves of the Forerunner terrain. The power resource was now in sight, protected only by a few enemy ground troops. The Elite fired the Ghost’s plasma cannons and forced them to scatter, leaving the resource open for him to capture. The Elite eased off on the accelerator and the Ghost hummed to a slow crawl. The warning whine of several Hornets came too late, and as emerged from behind the Forerunner tower, the Elite was cut down in the crossfire of their autocannons and fell from the Ghost’s cockpit. The Hornets continued onto their next target and the Ghost sat silent and awaited its next driver. Frontier Verdant grasslands overrun a Forerunner facility suspended on the edge of the world. A clash of familiar and alien environments characterize this battlefield; lush grassland and sandy beaches are punctuated by several monolithic Forerunner structures, creating unnatural 'islands' among the landscape. The sleek but complex designs of the Forerunner ramps and lightbridges that branch off from these islands form multiple paths over the natural chasms of the environment as factions clash to gain control over valuable Forerunner resources.

Highway A remote transport route bisects the crystalline wilderness. "I watched as my scattered recon team were swiftly picked off one by one by the two Elite Ranger patrols. They must have been watching all along, waiting for us to split up as we scouted the area for power nodes. The Elites had the element of surprise, the numbers and the high ground. My only advantage was that they hadn’t spotted me yet, but as soon as I took a shot, they'd be able to pinpoint my position. I checked my ammo—six bullets for four Elites. Our Pelican pick up wasn't scheduled for another hour, and I could follow the Elite's movements from the glints of light bouncing off their carbines as they reflected the crystals lining the platform. If I didn't act now, they'd have me pinned. I reprogrammed my spotter drone to patrol three points on the map and sent it off. As soon as it broke cover, I engaged my cloaking technology and made for the opposite direction. One of the Elites bellowed something and their carbine rounds pinged off the Forerunner structures as they tried to shoot the drone. While they were distracted I made a dash for the nearest teleporter and jumped in. I was lucky, and I appeared above them at a blind spot. I aimed and fired. Even before the Elite hit the ground I had already entered the teleporter and back where I started. By now, the Elites had figured out where my shot came from, taken cover and were searching for me, but now I was behind them. I aimed and took out another of them and they yelled in surprise. I ducked back into cover and waited. My drone was now reaching the final point of its patrol and as it floated past the spooked Elites, they overreacted and blasted it out of the sky. Taking advantage of their panic, I fired off a wild shot to ricochet off some crystals and jumped back through the teleporter as they swung round in the direction of the ricochet. I was back above them again. They were shouting something angrily at each other, and I saw one gesturing towards the teleporter. I took another shot and one of the Elites fell back. The last Elite finally spotted me, but it was too late. He didn't even get a chance to raise his gun. As I collected my team's tags, I checked my rifle. One bullet left. I figure I'll save it for the next Elite." Report pvt. G. R. Scott, sniper detail Rift The battles fought at this Forerunner array will echo through history. A monolithic Forerunner structure dominates this environment, sitting atop a churning whirlpool that harnesses the power of subterranean rivers and waterfalls that flow into the ocean. Though one side remains unsullied by the war, the other is pitted with large breaches in the surface as the Banished tunnel downwards to plunder the Ark's valuable resources. Sentry A sleeping giant protects this ancient landscape. "The skeletons of wrecked Covenant ships, slowly being buried by shifting sands, should have acted as a warning to us. When I warned the Jiralhanae leading our mining expedition that we should act with caution, he only snorted and called the wrecks merely 'ghosts of the old war'. The Unggoy chattered amongst themselves nervously, and I knew they too had noticed the charred terrain. Pocked by heavy blast points. The Jiralhanae roared and gave the nearest Unggoy and a swift kick as a warning to the others, and shot me an angry look for daring to scare his rabble. When we reached the site. I stayed on guard while the Jiralhanae ordered his Unggoy to prepare the mining equipment. They had just breached the surface when I felt the air move. I screamed a warning and managed to dive into cover as the first salvo exploded the rocky outcropping where I once stood. I lay on the ground. dazed from the blast and smelled a sickening burning odor, followed quickly by a jolt of searing hot pain. My sword arm had been severely burnt and the light from the blast had temporarily blinded me. I heard the Jiralhanae barking orders to his panicked Unggoy, but his cries were quickly cut short by another blast. My sight had cleared enough that I could just make out a large shadow hovering over the panicking Unggoy, who scattered as I sunk into unconsciousness. When I awoke. Our attacker had disappeared and the only things left were our mining equipment - damaged beyond use - and the body of the Jiralhanae served as the iris of a newly created crater." Report of Jato 'Ratum, only survivor of the mining expedition Vault Lush woodlands conceal an immense Forerunner storage facility. "The storage facility was only a couple of klicks out as we pushed through the woods, and after a long exhausting march I could feel the rest of the team relax a little. After all the alien sights we had seen, the familiarity of a cool breeze and the smell of those large trees was a comfort, and for a short while we could almost forget where we were. That was our first mistake. Something shimmered out of the corner of my eye and lifted Dimitri into the air. He lurched violently to the left as the cloaked Elite swung his sword free of his victim and Floyd shouted 'Elite!'. We fired off several rounds at the spot where Dimitri had been standing, but the Elite had already melted back into the trees. We still outnumbered him seven to one, but I wasn't about to follow a cloaked Elite into the trees so he could pick us off one by one. We popped our grenades. A minute later, we slowly pushed through the burning trees, picking splinters out of our uniforms. There was no sign of the Elite, but the shallow stream beyond was streaked with purple blood. I collected Dimitri's tags and blinked to get the sting of smoke out of my eyes. We wouldn't forget where we were again." Journal of Private D. Wood Mirage Rolling sands carry the ghosts of fallen warriors through arid wilds. The weight of Forerunner history lays heavy upon this beautiful but wild environment. Desert winds moan at the edge of a vast Forerunner gate that protects a long-forgotten secret; the ship-seed of an ancient Forerunner Despair-class fighter, dormant for a hundred millennia. Fissures Volatile liquid churns and boils beneath the uncertain amber surface. Scorched cracks and violent crystal protrusions scar and pock this rocky amber terrain, torn by eruptions from the explosive molten fluid energy that bubbles and smolders beneath the surface. Pressure forces up huge bursts of the liquid, quickly solidifying into huge crystals and trapping invaluable volatile raw power inside. Nearby, an elegant Forerunner structure stretches out over the precipice overlooking endless desert dunes, housing a lift that drops deep to the solemn Archive below.

Campaign logs

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]

The Graveyard

File:PL Attack.png

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.

The Turn of the Screw

File:PL research team.png

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

File:PL Cartographer.png

ONI Section Zero Board//Surveillance transcription of internal communications between

subjects 'D' and 'S'. 11.17.2550 1453 hrs//Full transcript available on request//

['S'] Sir, did you receive the report on Codename: Slow Dive? I thought you

should see it.

['D'] I did, although I'm not sure why I'm looking at it. Hit and run, neutralize

Covenant forward outpost...break it down for me, what am I missing? Why is

this an ONI concern? Did we lose anything vital?

['S'] No sir - in fact we suffered no casualties at all. When the team arrived at

the outpost it had already been wiped out. Every Covenant dead, every weapon

and vehicle gone. The only vehicles left look to have been sabotaged.

['D'] Crossed lines happen all the time. I take it you've already had a discrete[sic] poke

around the other departments. Did we have a Spartan black ops mission there?

['S'] No one's heard a peep, sir and l was very thorough. I've annotated the

report for you. The ballistics report confirms the majority of the damage came

from spikers, brute weapons. Remember our discussion about Atriox?

['D'] Ah. You think this could be his work. What did that Grunt call them, 'The

Banished'? Still out there, are they?

['S'] Once I saw the ballistics report I requested the last six months of mission

reports—under a proxy of course—and I believe I've found other similar

incidents; five months ago a rookie marine trips an alarm during a mission

against a Covenant training camp. The team dig in, fearing the worst but no

Covenant troops respond. The team sweep the camp only to find a few dead

Sangheili in a warehouse. Everything else is gone, vehicles, weapons, even the

rest of the Covenant that were stationed there. Once I started looking I found

five other similar cases, all against Covenant targets.

['D'] So he's not just stealing armaments, he's recruiting. At the moment he's still

using guerrilla tactics, which means he's still small time. Still, I'm impressed he's

still alive. If he's got a grudge against the Covenant we may be able to use his

attacks to our advantage, coordinate our operations with his raids. See if you

can find a pattern, I want us to follow him more closely. Who knows, we may be

able to come to some kind of agreement.

Alice-130 Report #1

File:PL Alice.png

Spartan Alice-130, Spirit of Fire Red Team. Date: 03/28/2559

This is senior chief petty officer Alice-130, recording status report. Operating comms silent.

I managed to hold them off as long as I could while the Pelicans carried out

Jerome and Douglas, and once they we clear I spotted a Ghost,

commandeered it and made for the nearest portal. There was a brute coming

through from the other side, and I have to admit, his surprised expression as he

bounced off the front of my Ghost was very satisfying.

The Portal transported me a couple of clicks away from the main force, so I

stashed the Ghost in a nearby cave and took up a watch. After a couple of

hours perched in a small indent of a cliff face, the hostiles had moved on. A

caravan detachment had captured some of our troop from back at the

outpost and were taking off in another direction of the main forces, so I've been

tracking them, maintaining comms silence until it's safe to contact the Spirit of Fire.

One more thing - although the hostile forces consisted of both Unggoy and

Jiralhanae soldiers they're not kitted out like any I've seen before, and the taking

of prisoners is unusual behavior tor the Covenant. It's unclear yet whether this

is some kind of subfaction or new enemy force. I will continue to make and log

these reports until contact is reestablished. Alice-130, signing off.

The Blinded

File:PL Orda.png

From the journal of Orda Val 'Saham, Sangheili Guard 03/04/2559

How my ancestors would envy me. I have walked within the cavernous corridors

of one of the fabled cartographers on the Ark, a place long considered only in

legends. I still feel strong emotions here, for so much of the history of our race

is intrinsically bound up in it. But those emotions are not those of my ancestors.

No longer do I feel the religious reverence or feel humbled in the presence of the

ancient's structures and monuments. Gone is the comforting certainty of a

shared destiny and the peace and connection between brothers that comes

with it. Instead, when I close my eyes and breathe in the air around me, I smell

only machines. I remember how many hundreds of thousands of our warriors

fell—how many were sacrificed for a journey that never existed. I feel anger and

a deep sorrow for a race that has lost its way.

Even now, long after the Prophets' lies have been revealed, the ripples of that

revelation continue. I have become estranged from my family, who even after

the truth has come to light, refuse to fully renounce the ancient doctrines I

have brought shame upon our name by offering up my blade alongside my

brothers...for hire.

Battle and conflict is in our blood, our very way of life, and that is the only truth

I can now find. I cannot wait for another holy war, not will I be duped again.

With Atriox there are no lies; he speaks like a warrior. He wished to break free

from the yoke of the Prophets, so he did. Would that we had joined him earlier.

Now he offers us a way to keep our ship and our crew together and I can think

of nothing more truthful to fight for right now. The Shipmaster brought us

through the war and to this place alive where so many others have perished.

He asked us to follow him once more, and I will.

The Telegony

Professor Ellen Anders, Civilian Consultant 500493, Spirit of Fire. Date:

03/29/2559

As we continue our campaign against Atriox and the Banished, I continue to

discover more about the Forerunner's history and the Ark. Ever since Red Team

rescued Isabel, I've been pouring over her notes, trying to catch up on as much

history as possible. There are so many intertwining stories and revelations that

each new piece only throws up more questions, sending me darting down

another branch of investigation.

I am trying my best to remain focused, but it's hard not to wander occasionally

when something intrigues. However, my passion is tempered with my

responsibilities to the rest of the crew.

Although I am still a civilian here, I've been through too much with these people

to not consider the Spirit of Fire home and its crew family. Now I can help them

by beating Atriox in the race for knowledge. It's the only way to keep them...and

me...alive.

A Split Heart is Easily Conquered

From the journal of Orda Val 'Saham, Sangheili Guard 03/30/2559

This may be my last entry. The humans reached the Cartographer and by now

have no doubt discovered the location of Atriox's reinforcement portals. I admire

the humans' courage and skill as warriors; they are just one ship, but fight as

fiercely as an entire fleet! If their leader is as shrewd as he has appeared so far,

then he will understand the value of the portals and they must be the human's

next target. They're likely already striking out to destroy them.

I have been ordered to defend the portals and must report to Decimus. This

gives me grave concern. When we first arrived at the Cartographer, I was

among the Sangheili who were to sweep the area for hostile elements and as

such I was privy to Decimus' movements.

He is Atriox's right-hand and pledges loyalty to the Banished, but as I watched

him walk among the ancient's halls I recognized the awe and reverence in his

eyes that I once saw among my own clan. I saw that fatal longing, that tragic

need to be once more struck dumb and blind by the promise of a wondrous

destiny. If we are to succeed, Decimus must purge these old conflicts from his

thoughts. A warrior's heart must be certain if he is to survive, as doubt is a

surer killer than the sharpest blade.

Rise of Atriox III

File:PL Friendly Fire.png

ONI Section Zero Board//Surveillance transcription of internal communications

between subjects 'D' and 'S', 05.06.2553 1702 hrs//Full transcript available on

request//

['D']...what's the name of the ship? Something pronounceable, I hope.

['S'] 'The Enduring Conviction', sir. A CAS-class assault carrier. The Conviction and

its Sangheili commander have been known to us for some time, we've lost quite

a few ships to it over the last four years. According to our intel it's the largest

ship Atriox controls now.

['D'] He's amassing quite a fleet. This must be the ninth raid in as many months.

Still, he's never gone for something this large before. How did he raise enough

troops to capture and then crew a CAS-class carrier?

['S'] We're piecing together what we can, sir. From what we understand, Atriox

and a small group of his warlords were captured during a raid on a former

Covenant air base and taken aboard the Enduring Conviction. Twelve hours

later, Enduring Conviction broke formation and contact with the rest of the

fleet it travelled with. The Conviction was hailed, warned, and then fired upon

when it ignored orders. The Conviction performed evasive maneuvers, returned

fire and escaped. It was an impressive move...and it's one we've seen before

during a battle with the Conviction two years ago.

['D'] Are you implying the commander was still in control?

['S'] It's possible, sir. It's unclear who's giving orders to these Sangheili ships now

and his crew was fiercely loyal. If we knew that, then Atriox would have. What if

Atriox planned to be captured by the Conviction so he could get close to the

commander and get him to defect? It may have even already been planned and

this was just a cover.

['D'] An assault carrier and its crew. Atriox has just painted a very large target

on his back, he's going to want to lay low for a while. Keep track of known

Sangheili, let's see if this snowball turns into an avalanche.

A Warning

Balkarus, Brute captain. Transcription Date: 03/30/2559

Attention all Unggoy!

As captain of this pitiless rabble I have the displeasure of having quarters closed

to you whelps, and so my ears are tainted with every cowardly whisper and

idiotic rumor that is spread among your number! Recently a poisonous tale has

become popular among you little ones, a tale that has resulted in two - TWO-

attempted desertions! This threatens to undermine my authority and is an

insult to the name of the Banished and Atriox himself. I am here to crush that

rumor before it results in any more disobedience.

The rumor is of an enemy warrior, so called 'The [UNKNOWN TRANSLATION]'. It

has been said that this '[UNKNOWN TRANSLATION]' is responsible for the

deaths of our comrades at the ancient's water treatment structure and the

loss of several captives. According to you superstitious fools, the '[UNKNOWN

TRANSLATION]' single-handedly fought our bravest Jiralhanae before freeing

the human captives and then led a path of destruction leaving not one of our

warriors standing! The worst versions have the '[UNKNOWN TRANSLATION]'

being unstoppable, a ghost or even the same Demon that defeated the

Covenant curs!

This ends now. The death of our warriors and loss of captives was due to an

accident, probably caused by some lazy Unggoy neglecting its duty! From now

on, any talk of this phantom '[UNKNOWN TRANSLATION]' will result in several

of you pathetic creatures being hurled to the bottom of the nearest ancient

chasm as a warning. Let that be the end of it.

One last thing - the execution of the deserters will happen in one hour, all are

to attend.

Rise of Atriox IV

ONI Section Zero Board//Surveillance transcription of internal communications

between subjects 'D' and 'S'. 12.21.2553 1702 hrs//Full transcript available on

request//

['D'] What are these? Wraith tanks? What's this other vehicle? I don't recognize

it.

['S'] Not many people would, sir. Those are Banished Wraiths, the other thing

we're not sure about, some kind of airborne artillery. With the war over, there's

an awful lot of materiel out there for the taking. No Covenant also means Atriox

can stop running.

['D'] But if the Covenant are gone what's he fighting for? I guess he could be

making a bid for Doisac. Brutes don't have a strong leader to stabilize them

since the war ended, and that's a good thing.

['S'] O don't think so, sir. Throughout the war he was always about raiding, about

building up his army. He never struck directly against the Covenant unless there

was something to gain from it. Never took territory, never made demands or

speeches. He kept as low as he could, a small target. Now his targets have

become more focused, less hit and runs than surgical strikes. And he's still

recruiting. Even some of the Lekgolo are joining him now as well as more ex-

Covenant who don't want to stop fighting. The Covenant was never the target.

They were just convenient suppliers. He's just getting started.

Chrysalis

Professor Ellen Anders, Civilian Consultant 500493, Spirit of Fire. Date: 03/30/2559

I've been examining data pulled from the amber lake and cross-referencing it against Isabel's information banks on the Forerunners. I couldn't help but draw a parallel with the amber that fossilized long dead species on Earth. Except on Earth, those biological relics were preserved where they fell. Here, despite all appearances, everything has been constructed and planned. The Ark is part of a larger plan spun by the Librarian, and the UNSC archives say this was a plan for humanity.

New Mombasa was the first city to have an orbital elevator, but also the site of the portal that first led to the Ark. Was this all part of the Librarian's plans? Could she have manipulated our evolution just so we would discover the portal?

If we are to be these 'Reclaimers' as so often claimed, does that mean we are predestined to follow a set path or are we merely being guided to assume a greater role in the universe? On the one hand, it is thrilling that we may be finally uncovering the great questions as to why we are here, but it also scares me. It feels like we're preserved specimens under the surface of the amber lake, observed by some great, unknown eye.

I need to get back to work, but I have to come back to this when we have time. If we have time. Back to it, Ellen.

A Small Sacrifice

Teranus. Jiralhanae guard. Transcription of audio report. Enduring Conviction. Date: 12/07/2558

Captain, how much longer must we put up with these Sangheili mercenaries? They are as haughty as their kind ever was during the Covenant. Despite how they have debased themselves for Atriox.

True, their ship is impressive; when I think of the punishment we dealt to the humans pitiful outpost great peals of laughter burst from my lips. How they ran like tiny insects, hopelessly lost and panicked as if we had poured boiling water into their dirty little nest! Yes, we burned that place. Of course, many of the Unggoy under our command were obliterated as well, but you cannot have a feast without breaking bones! Our soldiers knew the risks and were willing to die for our goal and the Unggoy - well, they are merely fodder, willing to hurl themselves to their deaths as long as there is someone to command them to do so!

Not so with these POMPOUS Sangheili! They declined our invitations to celebrate the destruction of the human's outpost. It is untrustworthy to have mercenaries be so squeamish! War is not about honor, but about who climbs out of the pit alive at the end! The end of the Covenant has freed our race, but it seems to have imprisoned theirs.

That is all, my shift is over and I must go now to find some Unggoys to beat for sport.

Rise of Atriox V

ONI Section Zero Board//Surveillance transcription of internal communications

between subjects 'D' and 'S'. 05.06.2555 1702 hrs//Full transcript available on

request//

['D'] Play it back to me, let me hear what we got.

"You wish to know about Atriox and his Banished? The Covenant's dirty little

secret. The Jiralhanae they could not control. When I joined the Covenant I was

young and easily led. Even back then he had already passed into legends and

whispers. A monstrous savage who railed against those who would show us

the way to the Great Journey. What a fool I was.

I was there when they tried to execute him. Many have said the same but I

speak the truth. His crime was to question the Great Journey. To question the

Prophets as they sent wave after wave of his kind to die. With each battle he

became harder, his dissent louder until the Covenant had to silence him.

He was to be executed for heresy; for bringing shame upon the Covenant and

doubt to weak willed minds. I was working some menial task nearby when they

brought him in. Bloodied and fresh from the fight. He showed no fear—it was

as if there was too much rage inside him for any other emotion. As the executor

brought down his blade, Atriox rose, killing his would be killer. The other Brutes

fell upon the rest of the guards—such savagery. Years later I heard Atriox had

engaged the services of the Enduring Conviction.

I wonder, would the war have ended sooner had he led the Covenant? Or would

it still be raging? I say this—do not underestimate him. I know you humans.

There is honor in you, but there is equally deceit and I know how you nurture

your plots. If you try and harness his power. He will burn you. Atriox works for

no one. He may not be the Covenant, but he is not your tool."

['S'] That was all we could get out of the Sangheili, sir. He wouldn't say any more

without us answering some uncomfortable questions so we let him go.

Enduring Conviction Battle Reports

File:PL Banished.png

Various Battle Reports, Banished station Delta.

Incoming: R-5557-4452: We have spotted a small human vehicle force on the

southern spire near the ruined human settlement. No sign of a larger strike

force, but all Banished forces in the area should be ready to mobilize in the

event of a larger human assault.

Incoming: R-6001-4452: Humans routed from the area, many dead. One of their

demons immobilized, the other missing, presumed dead. We have secured

prisoners for interrogation and sport.

Incoming: R-6029-4452: The humans launched a surprise assault against

Decimus' salvage operation. Superior numbers forced Decimus to return to base.

Decimus has been ordered to report to Atriox immediately. All Banished

outposts to be on the alert for further human assaults.

Incoming: R-6042-4452: Supply deliveries along the southern Spire supply-line

have slowed significantly. Rumors delivery outposts have been lost to human

forces. Temporary re-route of emergency supplies underway. We also have

reports of several communication blackouts at one of our settlements, seems to

be a small second force operating independently of the main enemy force.

Reinforcements sent down to bolster our bases there and eradicate this

problem.

Incoming: R-6066-5012: Cartographer lost to the enemy. It is believed humans

managed to recover information from Decimus' base and location of portals

controls now compromised. Decimus reassigned to protect likely portal targets.

Incoming: R-688-5014: Loss of captives to the guerrilla force. No survivors, but

garbled reports from the Unggoy forces of a '[UNKNOWN TRANSLATION]'.

Rumors of this '[UNKNOWN TRANSLATION]' are unsettling the Unggoy forces

and there have been several desertions. Suggest deserters are executed as an

example and anyone spreading rumors of the '[UNKNOWN TRANSLATION]' are

punished.

Incoming: R-7012-5093: Reinforcement of outer portals underway. Enduring

Conviction has finally been ordered to engage the human ship directly—

although Enduring Convictions shield is under assault from an enemy ground

cannon. All local Banished forces to mobilize and neutralize enemy threat

immediately. The Huragok onboard assure us that the cannon is little threat to

the hull of the Enduring Conviction, but losing our shield could leave us open to

other attacks.

Incoming: R-7013-5093: Enduring Conviction has lost all shields. All available

Huragok to be assigned to repair duty immediately. No sign of orbital counter-

attack, assault against Spirit of Fire continues.

Incoming: R-7016-5093: Alert! We have been...

[REPORTS END]

The Snake that Eats the Tail

Unknown Author, Installation 00, Date: 01/14/2555

Once again, the humans have damaged Installation 00 with their war, like

chidddlren allowzed to run rampnt and uncheckedd.

Correction: [Like children allowed to run rampant and unchecked]

Are these truly the ones destined to carry the Mantle? Perhaps it is heresy to

question the Librarian's plans, but one's thoughts do tend to wander and dwell

on forbidden thoughts when one has been left alone for so lone

Correction: [long]

How long has it been now? No matter.

I cannot help but question the wisdom of my masters. After all, there have been

countless battles and each time the only difference seems to be the names of

those involved.

Can the universe really be shod and bridled like some common beasts simply to

serve the wants and needs of petty organic life? I have had time to do little but

watch as events unfurl and to my senses there has been no advancement. If a

rock is cast into the water, no matter the weight or the force of the one who

hurls it, it creates a few ripples quickly subsumed by the calm of the lake itself.

Is the purpose then to simply upset the stillness, albeit temporarily?

If so, then surely it is a selfish, prideful need for immortality in the sentient

beings. A need which we should not encourage. After all, they only hurt

themselves.

No, the real truth is that the universe is cyclical and must maintain its stillness,

infinitely returning to the source. Installation 00 must be maintained and

returned to its former state and those that have done it harm must be dealt

with.

It is time for me to get to work.

Rise of Atriox VI

File:PL ONI.png

ONI Section Zero Board//Surveillance transcription of internal communications

between subjects 'S' and 'D', 03.15.2558 1702 hrs//Full transcript available on

request//

['S'] Sir, it's me. We've lost him. He's completely disappeared.

['D'] You can drop the 'sir', I'm not your boss anymore. remember? I take it I know

which 'him' we're talking about?

['S'] Every one of my sources say the trail has gone cold. Those that are still

answering my calls anyway. Without ONI channels at my disposal the only

people talking are those who owe me favors.

['D'] They don't need us now their war's over. Forget about it.

['S'] Forget it? Atriox has assembled an army somewhere out there and we still

don't know what he's after. I've got connections on Doisac and he's become a

symbol to the Jiralhanae. A new leader to rally around. While we've been

fighting the Covenant, he's been growing and gathering his forces. The last time

we heard from him he had captured a whole host of Hugarok[sic]. Forerunner

engineers. You know what those things can do?

['D'] Listen, I stopped caring when they cut me out. They pull me up on a few

shady deals after what they did with the Spartan IIs? Hypocrites. They ask you

to get your hands dirty and then they're too good to shake your hand. The only

reason I'm not in some detention station is the stuff I have on them. So let

them find out about Atriox in their own time. Don't call here again, we're done.

Beyond the Edge

Captain James Cutter, SN: 01730-58392-JC, Spirit of Fire, Date: 04/02/2559

Once again, I say goodbye to a colleague and friend. The new Halo installation

has disappeared through the slipspace portal. Far out of reach of Atriox's hands.

But it took Professor Anders with it. I know the Professor will be okay, her

intelligence and resourcefulness will see her safely back to her lab in no time,

but I will miss her and our family is a little smaller without her.

But there is plenty to keep us occupied here. The portal to Earth is still closed,

and as far as I'm concerned it should remain so until we fully evaluate the threat

the Banished pose to it. However, I have ordered Isabel to start investigating

the portals controls in the event that we need to open—or close—it again in

the future. The Ark is our new home for now and the Banished threat is too

great to leave it unguarded until we establish contact with the UNSC forces

back home.

For now, Atriox seems to be licking his wounds, but we know he still has forces

active in the darkest corners of the Ark and it won't be long before he mobilizes

them once again. This time we'll be ready for him.

Yes, I have said goodbye to another friend and we are again cut off from the

rest of humanity, but this time it's different. We know that the Covenant war

has been won and a new future awaits us back home—perhaps our families as

well. For now, we have a new purpose, something to fight for. And we'll do it

together on our new home.

A New Commander

Balkarus, Brute captain. Recorded Date: 4/1/2559

Forticus, we have received the Huragok you sent us and have already put them

to work around the operation site. I have tasked a Sangheili to look after them,

for I cannot stomach to be around them for long. Simply the sight of the

Sangheili communicating to those creatures with strange hand signals repulses

me. I often need to punt three or four short ones into a deep chasm before my

mind settles again!

I fear I would need to kick a thousand Unggoy into the depths to restore my

peace of mind after meeting our new commander. While stationed at the raid

camp, I heard utterings about a Lekgolo who had risen up the ranks to the

standing of actually having Atriox's ear! I know these rumors to be true, and

that it calls itself 'Colony'. I have only glimpsed its hulking form from a

distance, but the others swear they actually heard it speak, or something close

to a sound. I can tell many of the younger Brutes are nervous in its presence

and guard their conversations, for if they are truly a hive mind, then surely all

eels hear what one hears.

Atriox appears to have tasked Colony with investigating the ancient

technologies here and restoring them for our own use. He, they - whatever it

is - seems to have curbed its feasting habits and has already made progress in

establishing a cloaking field over the site. Such power makes me nervous. The

Lekgolo are formidable fighters, but sometimes I wish the Covenant had left

them burrowing away amongst the relics like the worms they are. Still, if it

gives us the chance to strike back at the humans, then I welcome it, but it is

not the natural way of things!

I must end my transmission now: I swear I heard something slithering behind

me.

Hold Fast

Balkarus, Brute captain

Attention pack brothers!

The next Jiralhanae that comes to me asking for Unggoy replacements to

bolster the one he has 'misplaced' will lose his tongue to my blade! I

understand patience is troublesome for warriors such as us, but hurling the

whelps at the cloaking field to watch them fizzle and pop is a waste of

resources!

True, it is amusing and I am willing to turn a blind eye to the occasional

'accident', but as disgustingly numerous as the Unggoy are, our forces here are

limited until the operation is over. Besides, the grating squealing of the pathetic

ones are likely to attract the unwanted attention of the Sentinels, which will

slow down out plans.

Until the operation is over, the cloaking field must remain in place, and we must

hold here to ensure its function. Despite their weakness, the humans seem to

have eyes everywhere and they must not find out our plans. Save your

bloodlust for the enemy, or strive for patience until the operation is complete.

We are close now, and it will not be long before we can indulge ourselves again.

Stay your hand, pack brothers, and sate your urges with the knowledge that

we will soon have vengeance on the humans for the loss of the Enduring

Conviction.

Floats Low But Steady

File:PL - Holo destroyed Enduring Conviction.jpg

From the journal of Val 'Telram, Sangheili Guard and translator.

I was overseeing a group of Huragoks when I heard the shrieking of metal, an

almost animalistic cry that pulled at my gut as the Sentinels tore the Enduring

Conviction apart. I would have given anything to be with my clan brothers then,

to die as a warrior's death among my brethren. Instead, I watched helpless as the

Sentinels carved up the ship - my home and family.

The shame I felt nearly drove me to madness. It had been weeks since I had

even unsheathed my blade, but they told me my skills as an interpreter were

more important than my swordsmanship. When we left the Covenant to join

with Atriox, we lost access to all logistics and docking support. No more repair

crews, just the few Huragoks we happened to have on board when the

Shipmaster pledged allegiance to the Banished.

My ability to communicate with the Huragoks, the sign language and the

patience requiered to learn it, quickly isolated me from my own kind. While my

brothers fought in battle, I was to work with the Huragoks to secure resources

and unlock ancient technology. How I wished we had a Unggoy Deacon that

could have taken my place. I felt less than a warrior.

Now at last I feel that vengeance and redemption is within my reach, and the

instrument is the very thing that has separated me from my warrior brothers.

Atriox has charged the mysterious Lekgolo known as Colony to seek out

Forerunner weapons, and it has found a long forgotten ship. I have been

assigned to watch over and communicate with a Huragok, which goes by the

name of 'Floats Low But Steady' because of its habit of almost skimming the

ground as it works. Within the span of a day, it has started 'talking' to the ship

and the launching systems that hold it. I consider myself fluent, but there are

occasional words I cannot accurately translate. The closest translations seems to

be 'bloom', 'grow' or 'seed'.

The Jiralhanae look with disgust as I work with Floats Low as they fear what

they do not understand, but they cannot hide their awe at the results. The

Ship seems to grow and rebuilt itself from the very launch system, a spear to

drive deep into the heart of our enemies.

A Tensed Bolt

Unknown Author, Installation 00, Date: 29,823 BCE

It disturbs me to admit, but I always feel a wash of ennui after dismantling one

of the Librarian's ship-seeds. As with all my master's designs, architecture and

function balance in perfect harmony. It seems such a pity to put it back in the

box.

It is as if a mighty archer has flexed their muscles, drawn back the box to full

strength and then suddenly frozen in full pose. The tension remains, the action

and all potential postponed, perhaps never to be realised. The temptation to

launch it and to break the stasis is strong, so I must busy myself with other

tasks. However, every Refugia has some buried inert marvel of technology:

weapons, ships, power sources - all patiently waiting to be put to use once

again.

This is the way of things, and at least the ship is in sympathy with this

installation. As with all the Librarian's plans, Installation 00 has performed

admirably, but now it lays dormant, sleeping. It is my task to watch and

maintain this installation should the threat arise once again.

Pandora's Box I

Field report, comms officer G. Peterson, SF-193-938. Transmission date:

6/1/2559

We're two klicks out from the High Charity crash zone, but even from this

distance it still dominates the skyline. I wish we had been around to see it hit

the dirt, it sure made one heck of dent. It may have been the Covenant's capital

city once, but now it's nothing but a giant reminder of their failure.

It's eerily quiet here, spooky even, and it's not just the story of the place.

Approximately three-hundred meters around the crash zone all life stops

growing, as if it hit an invisible line it refuses to cross. Might be intentional on

the part of the Ark, but we don't know enough about the area yet to be sure.

Greenery makes way to razed, blackened ground and trees look like used

matchsticks, hacked off at the head and stunted. The creepiest thing is there's

no sound fron animals, birds, or even insects. Hard to say whether they fled the

desolation or the sheer number of Sentinels swarming around here... [1/2]

Pandora's Box II

Field report, comms officer G. Peterson, SF-193-938. Transmission date:

6/1/2559

Isabel's reports from the war indicate that the strange dome over the remains

of High Charity is some kind of protective measure the Ark's systems created

after High Charity crashed. Something about walling off alien threats too big to

quickly deal with otherwise, it definitely explains the Sentinel presence here.

Regardless, after seeing what the Sentinels did to the Enduring Conviction,

we're not about to anger these bees, no matter what kind of honey could be

inside.

Brothers in Arms I

Plipbab, Grunt coordinator at High Charity crash site. Transcription Date:

6/4/2559

Central base, this is Plipbab, reporting from the High Charity salvage operation.

There was a tragical accident this morning, and, uh, we're going to need more

Unggoy. Voridus has been experimenting with the wormguy weapons and so

we were movin' some of his new incendiary jelly. Everything was goin' fine and I

was bein' real responsible! Then one thing led to another and there was a big

noise and it started rainin' Grunt gumbo, and you know it's never good when a

coordinator is wading through little chunks of his buddies.

So I go to 'fess up to Ol' Angry Chops and I know he's gonna be in a punchin'

mood, but he's doing argus with Pavium! Pavium was all like "WHY ARE YOU SO

CHARGY?" and Voridus is all like "WHY ARE YOU SO BOSSY?" - somethin' like

that, I got scared and I don't remember much. So now Pavium's in charge of the

excavations at High Charity, but I think he's also makin' sure Voridus doesn't

break anything important. Voridus is know for the breakin', so they say. [1/2]

Brothers in Arms II

Plipbab, Grunt coordinator at High Charity crash site. Transcription Date:

6/4/2559

So anyway, I says to myself, "Plipbab," I says, "this is maybe not a good time to

give angry Brute commanders bad news" and I start sneakin' away, but Pavium

smells right through my sneak and does a growl. So now I know I'm in trouble

anyway, so I just tell him about the exploding Grunts and do my most bravest

cower.

And I'm pretty sure I'm gonna be dead, but Voridus, he just starts laughing! And

then Pavium starts laughin', and so I start doin' laughts too! And we're all havin' a

Warped Reflections

Plutus, Brute captain. Emergency signal. 6/4/2559

Voridus, this is Plutus! This is not a call for help, as I know it is already too late

for us, but rather a warning. The Flood scourge has breached our base and I can

hear the screams of my Jiralhanae brothers from the outer corridors as they fall

to the monstrosities.

We were preparing the laser drills for power extraction when an Unggoy

spotted the first form. We laughed at typical Unggoy panic until we saw a

Wraith engulfed by a wave of seethering sickness. Our defences did little to stop

the sheer numbers of Flood when they first attacked, swarming over the

turrets and silencing them under mounds of filth. We fell back inside, but they

crawled and slithered through the vents and cracks and our base became a

slaughterhouse.

I watched as battle-hardened Jiralhanae screamed in terror as the Flood twisted

their forms into horrifying new shapes, their eyes pleading for a swift death.

Warriors I had fought side by side which turned upon me with unknowing eyes

and terrible rage. I ordered the few survivors to fall back to the inner corridors

as I planted my last cache of plasma mines, hoping to put an end to the

torment suffered by those infected.

There were moments of silence after the mines exploded, which we used to

count our numbers and weapons. We have not enough to hold for an hour, let

alone push back this enemy. Already, the uncanny screams have started

rumbling again, and the pounding has begun as they fling their battered and

contorted bodies against the door.

We laughed at the Covenant rumors about High Charity, but they were all true.

The Flood will consume all. You must...

[Transcription ends]

Tread Carefully

From the journal of Suta 'Noram, Sangheili Guard 6/4/2559

Commander Pavium has stationed me at his salvage operation to provide

security in case the humans try to interfere. Through the Jiralhanae are usually

ruled purely by instict and rage, Pavium appears to have a strong tactical

mind. Though he would kill me for suggesting so, he would make a fine

Sangheili.

I stand guard as the jabbering Unggoy blast through the wreckage to clear a

route to the ruins of High Charity, so that once Pavium and Voridus

have looted the area around High Charity of its weapons, we may transport

them out quickly and avoid the brunt of the Sentinels wrath.

Perhaps it is the offensive musk of the Jiralhanae or the insistent chattering of

the Unggoy, but I feel uneasy. There is something wrong about this. We have all

heard the rumors of what happened to High Charity, but we do not talk too

loudly about them, for fear of giving them life. I see a glint of the same fear in

the eyes of some of the older Jiralhanae, those for whom the Covenant is not

just a distant memory.

When we joined the Banished, we set aside all Covenant lies and those guillible

enough to believe in them. But now that High Charity looms over us like a giant

dead thing, those lies do not seem so foolish. Are we not as guilty as the

Covenant for ignoring the warning about High Charity as they ignored the

tales of the Halo Rings?

One thing is certain. There is danger here. The Ark does not deploy its Sentinels

without good reason and their numbers are many.

Idle Hands I

Unknown Author, Installation 00, Date 12/13/2552

Recently I have had troubling thoughts.

I am caretaker of this installation and it is my duty to maintain the natural

balance of things, and I have performed my task admirably. But what I have

learned from this experience, this war, is the terrible cost of peace.

For millenia, all was quiet and still and the wonderful designs of this

installation meant I had relatively little to do except making improvements and

the occasional minor system repairs. The paradox is that the better I perform in

my job, the less I have to do.

As a result, I am conflicted by the recent events on this installation. The

damage caused by the invaders and their war horrifies me, but it has given me a

purpose once again. The one constant is that this installation is the most

important thing in the galaxy and I must protect it at all costs. The destruction

that scars the place I am duty bound to protect has focused my thoughts for

the first time in centuries, and so it is once again through conflict that I have

found a renewed sense of purpose. [1/2]

Idle Hands II

Unkwown Author, Installation 00, Date 12/14/2552

I have marshalled my sentinels to construct a protective quarantine shell

around the crash site of the object once known as High Charity. If the Flood

were to escape and infect this installation, then everything we fought so hard

for so long ago would be jeopardized. This installation's primary purpose is to

create the only weapons capable of stopping a mass Flood outbreak. Upon

sealing the shell, my Sentinels will raze the perimeter and modify the refugia to

ensure that no sentient life survives nearby. I must deprive the Flood of any

host bodies in close proximity to their prison. When all this is done, I will keep a

battalion of Sentinels on patrol in the vicinity, not only to guard against the

Flood, but to guard against future invaders bent on self-destruction.

The destruction is regrettable, but I consider it a responsible pruning, necessary

to the greater good of this installation. I only wish I had the resources to repair

the rest of the damage wrought by the war. The moon at the center of the

Foundry has been largely depleted, and without necessary support structures

in place there is no way for us to find fresh sources for raw materals.

More frequently, the same thought occurs to me; this installation's purpose is

to safeguard the galaxy, and therefore must be preserved against all threats.

But the inhabitants of the galaxy themselves have proven themselves time and

time again to be the biggest threat to this installation, their self-destructive

actions apparently impossible to curb.

I shall pursue this paradox, for it is only a matter of time before I will be forced

to address it tangibly [2/2]

An Uncomfortable Truth I

Unkwown Author, Installation 00, Date 2/19/2553

High Charity has been successfully sealed, the perimeter has been razed, the

Sentinel defences put in place, and the Flood contained. I allowed

myself a small self-congratulation for a job well done, but now that the dust

has settled I find my mind wandering into forbidden territories again.

Therefore, I have set myself the task of cataloguing and researching the Flood

and its myriad forms. Of course this installation has full databanks on the

Flood's history and the war my creator's waged against it, but there is always a

small chance of new discoveries, even if it is simply reassessing old knowledge

with the context of recent events.

Many regard the Flood as the ultimate representation of chaos, traditionally

thought of as the enemy of the natural balance of the universe, a direct threat

against the Mantle itself. However, with all things, what is chaotic can form

patterns and purpose when viewed from a far or close enough distance. In fact,

the most disturbing thought is the single-mindedness of the Flood, its one goal

to subsume all sentient life, to make all as one. [1/2]

An Uncomfortable Truth II

From records I have studied, as the Flood grows closer to the critical density it

absorbs the knowledge and intelligence of its hosts. As it grows in strength,

coordination and self-awareness, it forms Proto-Graveminds and then finally the

Gravemind itself . Once a Gravemind has been created, the Flood's race memory

is re-established and it becomes almost unstoppable. This scenario is what led

to the creation of the last Halo Array so many years ago.

From the perspective of the Flood, is this not attempt at bringing order to

the galaxy rather than chaos? It is a dangerous line of thought, and I know

there was another who fell into this trap and indeed became instrumental in

the downfall of my creators civilization. Fortunately, my loyalty and duty to this

installation precludes me from following that path.

My conclusions are still disturbing. The Flood are indeed the great threat to the

galaxy my creators feared, but they are the truest to their nature. The

Forerunners, the San'Shyuum, the so-called Reclaimers all declare peace

through unity and civilization, yet endlessly make war amongst themselves and

others. Wars fought in defense of their own independence while each forcing

their own ideas of unity upon their enemies.

I stand here as a guardian of that chaos. It is an uncomfortable truth. [2/2]