All language subtitles for Halo_ The Complete Saga v2 Movie (MCC, Reach, Guardians, Terminals, Wars, ODST, Evolutions) 1080p HD (1080p_30fps_VP9-128kbit_AAC).anglais

THE LIBRARIAN: Our enemies move deeper into our territory with abandon.

They must be eradicated.

THE DIDACT: Shall we take revenge?

Abandon the mantle and all that its philosophy has given us these thousand generations?

LIBRARIAN: All our plans have been torn asunder.

DIDACT: More reason not to abandon our beliefs.

The mantle is our guidepost in times such as these.

We must not falter in following its teachings.

The enemy must be sent home

and taught to stand with the galaxy,

rather than rail against us and take what they desire.

The Mantle shelters all.

MASTER BUILDER: Didact, you make a fair, if uncomfortable point.

You have my support.

Librarian,

will you likewise follow the Mantle as Didact suggests?

LIBRARIAN: Yes, Master Builder.

DIDACT: You're not angry at me?

LIBRARIAN: We had this discussion a century ago.

DIDACT: Ah...

So you are angry at me.

LIBRARIAN: In the chambers yes,

but not now.

You'll depart for Requiem soon?

DIDACT: At dawn.

My Prometheans are already there.

LIBRARIAN: Already there?

You knew the Master Builder would side with you.

DIDACT: Should we step back inside the council chamber?

LIBRARIAN: No.

I would rather we spent our night out here.

You will be fighting enough the days ahead.

DIDACT: My love,

put fear from your heart.

LIBRARIAN: War is your realm, Didact,

not mine.

And you marched to this war,

facing foes that, while always aggressive,

were never so aggressive as they are now.

DIDACT: Your fears are unfounded.

The enemy will be turned

and I shall stand by your side once more.

LIBRARIAN: Promise me that!

DIDACT: I promise you.

Nothing will stand between us.

BRIDGE OFFICER 1: Lord of Admirals.

We are in position over the Forerunner planet.

LORD OF ADMIRALS: Show me!

BRIDGE OFFICER 2: Population numbering over 2 Billion.

Forerunner ships on alert and inbound.

LORD OF ADMIRALS: Is it possible?

Have we gotten ahead of it?

BRIDGE OFFICER 1: Flood infestation detected my Lord.

LORD OF ADMIRALS: Damnit!

BRIDGE OFFICER 2: My Lord,

the infestation is in a remote locale.

Perhaps if we warn the Forerunners...

LORD OF ADMIRALS: If we warn them,

we give the Flood time to spread.

You know we have no choice.

Cleanse the planet!

DIDACT: The Humans' actions threatened the galaxy,

yet we had treated them as the Mantle required.

Their punishment is just.

LIBRARIAN: Justice is reducing their genetics in such short generations

from a spacefaring race to

THIS?

DIDACT: They are closer now to the animals they behaved as.

LIBRARIAN: If not for their encounter with the Flood,

their gene plan could have surpassed our own.

They could have someday held the mantle of responsibility.

DIDACT: The humans were not meant to protect others.

The Mantle of responsibility for all things

is ours.

And ours alone.

LIBRARIAN: Yes.

The Mantle is ours.

And we hold it so tight,

that even in death we shall hold it still.

DIDACT: Lord of Admirals.

So very many years have we battled.

My finest opponent.

The Mantle accepts all, who live fiercely.

Who defend their young,

build,

construct

and grow.

And even those, who dominate,

as humans have dominated.

Cruelly,

without wisdom.

But for all of us,

there is a time like this.

And for you,

that time... is now.

Know this, relentless enemy.

Killer of our children.

Lord of Admirals.

Soon we will face the enemy you have faced.

And we are afraid.

LIBRARIAN: My Lifeworkers are investigating, but

I believe the humans were never attacking us.

DIDACT: Tell that to the millions of dead.

LIBRARIAN: The humans were acting as caretakers.

Pruning away planets so that this infection would not spread.

DIDACT: They took the Mantle of Responsibility upon themselves

and in so doing,

they brought this sickness to our shores.

LIBRARIAN: Husband.

MASTER BUILDER: The Flood cover more of our galaxy with each passing day.

They feast on the essence of life itself.

The only way to stop their advance,

is to remove that life

upon which they feast.

LIBRARIAN: My Lifeworkers have made plans for the re-seeding of Humanity

and of all life after the Halos are fired.

MASTER BUILDER: So you agree, the Halos are our only solution?

LIBRARIAN: I do.

MASTER BUILDER: And your husband?

LIBRARIAN: My husband has a different opinion of what steps to take against the Flood.

DIDACT: Did it work?

Run the Simulation!

The procedure is a failure.

I'm still susceptible to Flood infection.

PROMETHEAN: That leaves only the Composer.

DIDACT: It will not work on my new form.

PROMETHEAN: Then you will lead us. As always.

DIDACT: You would submit to such sacrifice?

PROMETHEAN: Didact,

if the Composer is our final hope to defeat the Flood,

no Promethean will resist.

DIDACT: I have lead you,

my Prometheans,

for thousands of years.

And I shall continue to lead you.

Rise!

Rise! And protect the Forerunners!

Rise! And protect the galaxy!

The Flood is still too strong.

Perhaps if I had greater numbers...

Humans,

your kind brought the Flood to our shores.

Now you will aid, end its' threat.

LIBRARIAN: They were to be safe here.

I ensured they would rise once more,

better than before.

DIDACT: Your pets have a nobler purpose ahead of them.

LIBRARIAN: You do not face me in person after your deceit?

DIDACT: I have an army to build from the raw materials harvested this day.

The citizens of this Halo are my first conscripts.

And with them in my thrall,

the Flood will meet it's defeat.

Humanity's loss of biological form,

will service final payment for their crimes.

It is a kindness,

they do not deserve.

LIFEWORKER: What will be done?

LIBRARIAN: Move the other humans to safety.

Ensure the security of their index samples.

They must finish what we have failed to do.

LIFEWORKER: Librarian?

Where are you going?

LIBRARIAN: To stop my husband's madness

My dear Husband,

I know your crimes

and I have found forgiveness.

I know your reasons.

I understand them.

I know you.

Perhaps better than you could ever hope to know yourself.

I ask you,

forgive my transgressions.

Like yourself,

all I have done

I have done

for the greater good.

Our time as the galaxy's caretakers is past.

The Flood have overrun us.

In the days to come

the Halo rings will fire,

eradicating the Flood.

And all other life for a time.

I have worked hard to index all species in known space.

When the time comes,

these indexes will open

and once more the galaxy will breathe and grow.

Blood will pump.

Life will claw its way out of the oceans and through the mud.

Babes will be born

and grow old under the warmth of a thousand suns.

Civilizations will rise in our stead

and our job as caretakers will at last bear fruit.

Until then,

I leave you here, my love.

The only living thing in this galaxy.

Sealed safely away.

Spend these ages ahead of you

in meditation on your choices.

When you wake,

you will find the humans.

I have ensured that they will grow strong and vibrant.

They, will be our rightful heirs.

Their gene plan dictates that the galaxy be theirs to care for but...

I beg of you,

find the strength to help them learn from our mistakes.

And my Husband?

Let them teach you something.

Please.

343 GUILTY SPARK: I am experiencing such a mixture of anticipation and dread!

All preparations are complete for my Installation.

In accordance with the final dictum of the Ecumene Council,

I have released myself of all remaining connections to my former station.

This was not difficult.

What was could never be again.

We had seen to that quite thoroughly.

Prior to my final journey through the Great Portal,

a gathering of my fellow Monitors was convened upon the Lifeworker's crèche,

to distribute the final Index collection.

It was most unusual to have this vessel of Rebirth play host to such an event.

Even though Lifeworker ships were the only ones still allowed Slipspace permissions.

Lifeworkers were responsible for getting us to our places on the active facilities of the Array

While all of this was in accordance with the plan,

one entirely unsatisfactory breakdown remained:

we had no contact with the Domain.

The history of all Forerunners, was now lost to us.

We relied upon the permanence of the Domain to preserve our record of the events that led to this point.

But without that record,

would future civilizations know anything about us?

Or only of our weapons?

My fellow monitor,

049 Abject Testament,

had only one comment on this, before we went our separate ways.

049 ABJECT TESTAMENT: We deserve to be forgotten.

Perhaps.

Perhaps...

But now,

the Portal opens,

and through it, the familiar shape awaits.

Halo.

Home.

Entropy.

It has now been 3,000 years

since my last contact with any of the other caretakers

of the Halo Array.

Despite clear communications protocol,

my fellow monitors have either chosen to ignore,

or more likely,

have lost the ability to engage in our scheduled updates.

The continued lapse of the Domain

means that we are stuck with achingly slow

wormhole superluminal communications.

Prior to this total communication shutdown,

the only messages I received

in the preceding 4,573 years,

were incomplete and quite perplexing transmissions

from Installation 05.

I suspected that monitor 2401 Penitent Tangent

was not functioning correctly for some time

before his messages ceased.

I have logged my concerns about his ability

to perform his duties.

At this point, however,

I am not sure who I file logs for.

2401 may be destined for madness.

There are fail-safes for this, I know.

I hope they work.

I will continue to visit the projection systems

at the assigned dates.

Perhaps the other monitors are dealing with

interfering galactic phenomena,

or unexpected system failures.

3,000 years of system failures...

Indeed...

In the meantime,

I've exhausted all scheduled research activities

assigned by the council.

Once those experiments were complete,

I shut down all Sentinel function

and put myself into a state of

significant hibernation.

To measure performance of the Installation

with negligible upkeep.

After 150 years with no noticeable impact

upon Installation systems or integrity,

even in hibernation I became...

bored.

This was quite troubling,

as I was led to believe I was not capable of such a state.

This was one of the gifts I was promised...

an end to strife.

I am aware of the dangers of a system such as myself losing operational focus.

Quite troubling.

I wonder if my fellow monitors are experiencing similar states,

or if this is because of my particular path

to this Installation.

For amusement, I have begun a series of experiments

involving the evacuation of all matter

from contained sections of my Installation.

By measuring the geologic effects

of exposure to the vacuum of space,

and the eventual biological recovery of these sections,

I anticipate gaining valuable insight

into emergency response scenarios

in case of-

SECURITY SYSTEM: Sentient Proximity Warning.

It has been 26 hours since the sentience landed in Sector 1215,

and so far,

they have not attempted to exit the remains of their vessel.

I say "remains"

because their landing was either not executed adequately,

or this vessel lacks significant maneuvering capability.

The physical portions of the vessel have suffered

catastrophic structural damage

during the violent landing experience.

I have detected atmospheric leaks in 17 distinct locations

along the hull.

My analysis shows that the mixture of gasses coming from the ship,

matches the natural atmosphere on my Installation,

almost exactly!

Perhaps the occupants,

if they still live,

were originally cataloged here?

Perhaps these beings will confirm that the plan was successful,

and that the galaxy has returned to its proper cadence.

I am beyond optimistic.

But I do not understand why these sentients have not attempted to exit their vessel.

Other than the leaking atmosphere,

the only thing emanating from this wreckage,

is an automated distress call.

I am currently translating this automated broadcast.

But with such a limited data set,

and no direct communication,

I do not anticipate full comprehension.

Given the short-range nature of this craft,

it is likely that other vessels are nearby,

but, in accordance with procedure,

I am blocking the distress call.

No communication of the location of any Installation

is permissible.

I admit great curiosity about these visitors.

While the plan is quite clear about procedure with this situation,

I have my doubts.

How many failure points can the plan sustain

before blind adherence becomes counter-productive?

Surely in light of all that has changed,

I should be able to modify my responses to adapt?

No.

I have duties.

And I have a terrible cargo here.

I must be sure.

I shall obey and contend myself to monitor

I hope they go out soon though.

So many questions to ask...

So many questions!

Construction of the sarcophagus around the

unexplained vessel was completed today.

No occupants ever exited.

No attempts to communicate were made.

Other than the automated broadcast

that repeated every 72.83 seconds,

until the signal terminated one week ago.

In accordance with procedure,

no attempts at physical or remote contact were made

with any survivors of this vessels inelegant landing.

Atmosphere from inside the craft stopped venting

two weeks before the signal ceased.

No relationship between these two events can be established with certainty.

Gasses that did escape were sterilized.

No further sign of alien visitors, or rescuers,

has been identified on any sensor systems.

I have now endured 60,000 years

without word from outside the array.

I have no way to know

whether we actually saved the galaxy we destroyed,

and because of protocol,

I sat silently while my first chance to be judged

for those acts

died.

To say that I regret being forced to this outcome,

is a tremendous understatement.

But as I perform my inspection of the quarantine labs today,

I am reminded of the gravity of my responsibilities.

Just one of these spores, if released from this facility,

would render the ultimate judgement against our

self-appointed role as protectors of this galaxy.

When the plan to maintain the Halo Array was created,

it was a point of some contention

whether we should preserve any remnant of the Flood infection.

Many thought this unwise,

as there was a notable chance that one day,

one of our containment facilities might be breached.

Those who held this belief were almost successful

at convincing the Ecumene Council

to destroy the last flood samples.

But oddly enough,

it was The Librarian who decided otherwise,

and I believe she was correct.

I know in a way

I cannot logically explain, that there exists a way

to actually defeat the Flood.

To immunize...

to cure.

I still struggle with multiple layers of memory

of fighting the Flood,

but I know this cure is possible,

even though the full genius of the Forerunners

was unable to achieve it.

The Forerunners' ancient enemy held and used that knowledge once,

but it was denied to us,

and without samples for further study,

that cure will never again be found.

Of course, I have no reason to believe

that here lies the entirety of the parasite.

It may be waiting in the frozen void beyond this galaxy,

or worse,

inexorably drifting toward us.

I don't know what survives out beyond my Installation,

but I know that in order for anything to survive,

I have to protect this Installation,

and its quarantine,

very carefully.

Yes.

The Librarian was right to store it,

examine it,

continue to seek a cure.

Still...

next visitor,

things will be different.

Alone...

Alone, alone, alone alone!

Am I the only intelligence left?

Waiting here on this Ring for a rebirth

never truly conceived?

Guarding a weapon with no targets?

A weapon I can tune to any target.

This is not what I had in mind when I volunteered,

not what I had in mind at all.

I was naïve to think I understood what this Installation meant.

We were all so naïve...

Looking back,

we should have done a few things differently.

For one thing, we should have installed

2 caretakers per Installation.

Because I am alone, I am losing focus

and that is very,

very dangerous for a system such as myself.

Perhaps a visit to the nearby gas giant is in order?

My impulse drives could certainly make the journey.

A few hundred years of travel might do me some good.

There it was again!

How very unproductive of me.

It seems strange

that The Librarian did not account for this;

her strength was always in planning and

positioning the pieces and-

and then being bold enough to let it happen.

To let her plans come true.

I was a part of many of those plans.

Long before I knew for certain that she was real.

Before any of us were.

But at the end,

we had only a fragment of her brilliance left to us,

and I fear that she did not fully appreciate

the nature of my situation here.

The problems at my post.

But even a fragment-

frr- frr- rfr- rfr

FRAGMENT! YES.

Oh dear.

Here it comes again...

25,000 light years.

That is the effective range of this Installation.

According to the star charts archived

on board this Installation,

I estimate that there are 3,792 worlds,

capable of sustaining biological sentient life,

within that 25,000 light year range.

In reality,

it may be significantly more than that.

And if the full array was tuned and activated by Installation 00

the harmonics of the overlapping waves

would magnify that effect exponentially,

cascading to cover every known star system.

And that only considers the firing of a mere 7 Halos.

Had the original 12 Rings survived to see use...

Sterilization would spread far further than most Forerunners

ever feared we could reach.

But even with just 7 rings

we were able to destroy every sign of the Flood,

and every other sentient creature along with it.

This victory was the will of our people,

despite the fact that it meant our own end as well.

But by our Pyrrhic measurement, it was a victory,

and cleared the stage for the rest of The Librarian's plan.

I sometimes wonder

whether The Didact could have succeeded at a much smaller cost.

I know the folly of opposing him personally,

and his brilliance was unsurpassed,

except,

perhaps by her own.

He never got the chance to fully execute his proposal

The Council saw to that.

But if something were to go wrong

with one of the Halos,

if our tools were ever turned against us...

Long plans,

indeed.

JOHN: You ever wonder what's up there?

ELLIE: Like what?

JOHN: Maybe someone up there is wondering what it's like here?

ELLIE: I guess?

Do you think we'll ever meet them?

JOHN: I hope so.

Don't you?

BLUE SIX: "Spirit of Fire", this is Blue Six

We're joining Blue Five and are en route

to the recon patrol's last known position.

Six out.

BLUE FIVE: Blue Six! Blue Six! We're under attack!

GAAARRRGGGHH!

What the-?

SPARTAN: This is Spartan Group Omega

If they want war...

We'll give 'em war!

SOLDIERS: Go go go!

Move on him!

Fire! Arrgh!

I've been hit!

Keep firing!

SERINA: Captain, wake up

Something has happened.

RED TEAM: Command! This is Red Team.

Something hit us!

Douglas is down! Immediate evac requested.

ATRIOX: Yes.

Run!

Little demons...

Hunt them down!

MEDICAL TECH: It's just cancer.

MICHAEL BAIRD: What do you mean it's JUST cancer?

MEDICAL TECH: I mean it's "just" cancer.

A very simple cancer. That hasn't spread,

or metastasized and is eminently all purple.

BAIRD: I don't mean to sound rude doc-

MEDICAL TECH: Oh, I'm not a doctor.

I'm a medical technician.

BAIRD: Whatever! What I'm saying is that I don't know what "cancer" is.

MEDICAL TECH: Oh! I gotcha.

Cancer is kind of umm....

Slow burn, localized infection, kind of.

But we haven't really seen a lot of it since...

Hmm...22nd Century according to this.

Anyway, it's easy to treat

but you're gonna have to have surgery.

BAIRD: What for?!

I thought you said it's an "infection"?

Can't you just irradiate, or drug it?

MEDICAL TECH: Yes.

And we're going to do both of those.

But to be sure we get all of it,

and don't have you back here next month,

we have to remove some tissue.

BAIRD: What kind of tissue?!

MEDICAL TECH: Nothing you need for a date.

Don't sweat it.

BAIRD: Crap.

What a bastard-ass of a morning!

Mo Ye, how come I have "cancer"?

MO YE: Hmm... Nothing in your civilian, marine,

or ODST record to suggest any particular

genetic preponderance.

But, it happens from time to time.

Perhaps you're just a throwback, Baird?

It would explain that Cro-Magnon brow of yours.

*laughing*

*coughing*

BAIRD: Well, my high school nickname was "Captain Caveman", you know?

*chuckles*

MO YE: Don't worry about the surgery, Baird.

It really is trivial.

The auto-surgeon will be done in less than an hour,

but you'll be under for significantly more than that.

It's a straight-forward,

but invasive, procedure.

I'll be observing, and can retain a vid for you

if you want to see the procedure after you wake up.

BAIRD: No, thanks. I'll be seeing plenty

of blood and guts where we're going.

Mo Ye: Let's hope not.

The intelligence is rough but,

we are not expecting trouble.

Just a lot of rubble.

BAIRD: When will I be back on duty?

MO YE: 2 days, by rule. But you'll be happy

and ambulatory in the morning.

Now, go...to...sleeeeeep.

Wake up...

Wake up...

Wake up!

WAKE

UP!

BAIRD: What the-?

What's...

happening?

MO YE: I'll tell you as you move, but right now

if you don't put on some clothes and do as I say,

you will be dead in a couple of minutes.

They were waiting for us as we dropped out of Slipspace

BAIRD: Covenant?

MO YE: Yes. A small group.

Not a formation we've encountered before,

at least, according to my records.

One cruiser and 4 completely new ships escorting it.

All dark gray, no surface features or lights,

and no weapons systems that I could discern.

What they did have,

was a belly full of boarding craft,

and our ONI contact group was not there.

BAIRD: So we were boarded?

MO YE: Almost as soon as we dropped out of Slipspace

Perfect targeting; as if they knew exactly where we were going to exit

inside the range of our weapons systems before I could react.

Punctured the hull in 200 different locations,

and swarmed us before we could sound the general alarm.

It was like exiting in the middle of a meteor storm.

BAIRD: What about the crew?

What about the men?

MO YE: Dead.

BAIRD: All of them?!

MO YE: Shhh!

They're still here and I suspect they're heading here

to Med-Bay for another look.

This is happening too fast!

BAIRD: How long was I out?

MO YE: 23 hours. And that's why you're still alive.

BAIRD: Why didn't they just destroy the ship?

What do they want?!

MO YE: Me.

And Earth.

The boarding craft was full of troops.

Grunts,

Jackals,

and several Elites.

They had operated like Shock Troops.

The crew never stood a chance.

Couldn't even reach a weapon.

It had been a slaughter.

Almost every sidearm and firearm aboard

had been secured in one of the ships.

Those who had fought back,

did so with the sidearms of fallen Masters at Arms,

and the weapons dropped by the covenant boarding party.

Few had died well,

and those who lingered,

have been executed.

You had been spared by narcotic slumber.

The Covenant had gone from deck to deck,

looking for either movement or simple life signs.

Your pulse and vitals had apparently slipped under

whatever criteria the Covenant sought.

BAIRD: So what the hell are they doing?

MO YE: They are trying to extract me from the ship.

And then they're going to try and extract Earth's location from me.

By hook or by crook.

BAIRD: What about the Cole Protocol?

Aren't you supposed to destroy the ship

or self-terminate?

MO YE: I can't self-terminate.

I already tried.

When they boarded, they brought something new with them:

things they call "Engineers".

They're-

I'm not sure what they are, precisely.

But they're semi-organic.

The first thing they did was separate me from the core systems.

A splinter of my persona is out here with you,

but the bulk of my memories and sheer processing power,

are locked in Computing on the bridge.

I can't access myself.

This fragment of me is just a hunk

I chipped off to monitor your surgery.

And it was severed, along with my access to Security, Engines, Navigation...

all the useful stuff.

I'm not exactly running at full capacity here