/03_04_2549/

/7:00 A.M./

/OUTER_COLONY: NASIP/

/ONI BASE KOVCHEG, NEW POPLAVA CITY OUTSKIRTS/

/STATUS: GREEN/

It was a regular afternoon, just like any other.

The city was bustling with life, just as any should. It was a "Megacity" after all. Massive skyscrapers blocked out the skies, some easily containing some five hundred floors. Highways traced the city from end to end, all of their traffic lanes filled with vehicles. Businesses were just starting for the day. School was just opening. People were heading to their work, to the stores, or wherever their next destination would take them.

Crime was at an all-time low. The local insurrectionist cell had been detained, tried, and executed about a month ago. Law enforcement was keeping a strict hold on the city, but none of the agents had any reason to do so. Nothing bad was happening. The city was safe, and it seemed nothing could go wrong. Normal really didn't describe it well enough. Dull didn't describe it well enough.

It was quiet.

The only thing worse than a loud environment was a quiet one.

That meant something big was about to go wrong. The quiet before the storm.

Nasip wasn't a large planet. In fact, it was small enough to be considered a planetoid. When Humanity had first stumbled upon it, they overlooked it, and for many good reasons. It had hardly had an atmosphere capable of sustaining Human- Or otherwise "Earthly," to be more correct- life. To terraform it into a more hospitable environment would have, and eventually did, cost a lot of time, money, and resources.

Most species native to the quasi-world died off for the most part, surviving only in captivity in a very controlled environment, where their base instincts became dulled, and they became nothing more than side-show attractions or scientific research projects. Others, however, adapted, and remained a part of the planet's somewhat now-unbalanced ecosystem.

As always, once the planet was more suitable for Earthly life, construction began. First the frontier, then towns, and eventually cities. Once cities became outdated, they became "Old." Their replacement, a Megacity, was built closeby, and was referred to as "New." The system of things didn't make much sense, and for most, it didn't need to. Modern times called for doing away with the old and reigning in the new, after all.

As such, this small world was more or less all city- A sprawling metropolis of a world, more city than land. That wasn't to say there weren't some regions that were left untouched. While replacing the old with the new was the policy, the past was not to be forgotten. It had taught many lessons in the past. Among which was the realization that when people lived in a concrete jungle, and there was nothing but towering skyscrapers as far as the eye could see, with not a natural structure in sight... They began to feel invaded, alienated.

And so some regions were left untouched. Retreats from the city-world that some began to find less than pleasing after so long.

Yet there was more to this planet than met the eye.

The Office of Naval Intelligence base codenamed "Kovcheg" was stationed here as a sort way to keep some control in the Outer Colonies, as they were now known, and as an early warning system in case the Covenant came into the Sector. It could contact other nearby UNSC forces in order to repel the invaders and protect what little of the Outer Colonies they had left. Out of the hundreds of colonies that existed in the Outer Rim, as some called it, very few were left. They had become the casualties of a ruthless, senseless war.

The Covenant, as they called themselves, were a coalition of aliens who banded together under the same banner. They all seemed to share some common goals and ideas, which were somewhat simple. First was their religion. They all worshiped some old race that apparently existed at one point, which they had some odd idea that died off and became Gods... And apparently were waiting for their successors to step up to their mantle. The Covenant were technologically superior to Humans in just about every way, spanning across unknown numbers of worlds with unknown populations inhabiting them.

Unfortunately, they were also unified in their current cause: To completely exterminate Humanity from the face of the galaxy.

Their reasons weren't clear, other than that they deemed Humans to be an affront to their Gods.

On the other side of the scale was Humanity itself. Humanity had made many technological advancements within the past few hundred years. They were now capable of faster than light travel thanks to Tobias Fleming Shaw and Wallace Fujikawa, and had colonized many worlds because of it. The ruling government had previously been the Unified Earth Government, which stemmed from the United Nations having finally become a government rather than an organization, and inevitably taking control of the world.

Of course, all colonies created by Earth were also ruled by it.

With the Covenant surfacing in 2525, however, things had taken a drastic turn. For a while, the UEG had remained in control. However, with the fall of world after world, it became invariably clear that more drastic actions had to be taken. The United Nations Space Command, or UNSC, induced a state of martial law. Everything was for the war. Everything was to survive. To surrender was to fail, and to fail was to die. If there was any one characteristic that Humanity shared, it was that they did not surrender in the face of a greater foe.

Not that everything was perfect. There were still many who opposed the UEG before the UNSC took command, and many more after the fact. Most of the naysayers simply dealt with it. Others resorted to more violent tactics. Humanity had been in the process of waging an endless war against itself for decades, centuries even. And with new frontiers and technologies to explore, warfare was all the more devastating.

How ironic. It took a foe who was utterly aligned against every being in the Human race to make even an uneasy peace, however temporary.

From an enclosed overlook that offered an easy view of the approach to Kovcheg, a lone figure silently sat on a bench. A large man, dressed in black. He was easily two meters tall, and appeared to be solid muscle, through and through. The fact that he was wearing the tight-fitting UNSC Orbital Drop Shock Trooper jumpsuit didn't help the appearance of it very much, rather than solidify the fact that he was someone that nobody wanted knocking on their door.

The man looked up slowly, having been staring at his jet black boots for the past ten minutes or so, and crossed his arms over his broad chest. He rolled his neck slowly, then sighed loudly, impatiently. He'd been sitting in the room for a long while now, reflecting on the past, as well as the future. Not that his mind had spun up to its full potential yet; He'd awakened from the cryochamber he chose to sleep in a mere hour ago. Despite being refreshing, it did little for one's physical or mental abilities.

It certainly did little for comfort as well.

Transitioning from the tube to the outside world wasn't too terrible. At least, not at this time of the year. The calendar wasn't the same as that of Earth. The length of hours, days, months, and years were entirely different from that of Earth, yet for the sake of ease, the UNSC chose to use a more Earthly calendar. It was the beginning of March, which might as well have been the middle of the winter. Snowstorms blew through frequently at this time of the year, but generally were never an issue. It was just cold.

As a side-effect of the winter, the windows of the enclosed space that this man sat in were usually completely frosted over. Occasionally an automated system would clear the windows, for some purpose or another. Not like the base ever came under attack or anything; Nasip really just wasn't that important when it came to insurgents.

The man stretched his arms, revealing the "Senior Chief Petty Officer" rank emblazoned on his jumpsuit's arm, as well as the word "Fullmetal" stitched into the shirt's chest. He worked for ONI, though he didn't do the things ONI traditionally did. He was a field agent, rather than a pencil-pusher. Few "Spooks," as ONI operatives were frequently called, could say the same. He prided himself in that fact.

The man appeared to be somewhere in his late thirties in age. His hair was worn in a somewhat longer fashion than the military usually sported, a messy dirty-blonde mane. His face was in a less than regulation state, and adorned several scars. His right eye had a large burn scar over it caused by a near miss from an energy blade. His cornflower blue eyes were staring out the window with much intensity, despite the blank look that his face held. He was far older in Earth years. Cryosleep had done him many favors in that department.

His name was Edward Rommel.

He was stationed on Nasip for the sake of serving out an unofficial punishment. About four years earlier he'd been on another world, cleaning up Insurrectionist forces. The mission had gone relatively smoothly, save for the hostage crisis that had ensued. Things had become very tense, and for him, very personal. A fluke and terrible coincidence had more or less driven him over the brink of his sanity for a while. He'd broken the jaw of his superior because of it, as well as his fist.

Rommel had barely managed to keep in the UNSC after that event, but people had gotten away with worse. There was a need for good troopers in these harsh times, so there was a lot more lenience. He'd been a Lieutenant at the time of the skirmish. They'd knocked him back down to a Petty Officer Third Class, nearly Crewman. He'd only managed to get even that much because of the testimonials of other people in his unit, namely his closest friend.

So for the next few years he hadn't seen much action. He was continually stationed in places where there wasn't much happening, it seemed. He had taken place in a few of the decade's major battles, but for the most part, he seemed to have been placed where the action wasn't happening. Being a man of action, he was almost certain that it was entirely intentional.

Sighing loudly again, Rommel shifted in his seat. He reached over toward a table to his side, picking up a ceramic mug that was placed upon it. The mug was white, and, unsurprisingly, had the "all-seeing-eye" that was ONI's logo slapped across it. It was full of a thick, brown brew, which even now had heat fumes wafting upward quite visibly. He took in a deep breath, taking in the aroma of the coffee he'd just recently acquired. He grinned at it briefly.

This early in the morning, with this much crap to deal with? He'd need the caffeine.

He tilted the cup back, taking in a brief sip of the stuff. It was strong, but that was good. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the warmth of it in comparison to the bitter cold of the world outside these windows.

And then there was a flash, and a very peculiar sound.

With a third sigh, Rommel lowered the cup of coffee. His eyes remained closed, and he sat there for a few seconds, listening to the noise. It was a combination of droning, hissing, and pure vacuum all at the same time. Its initial release reminded him of a sonic boom, but that wasn't right. It had more to do with light than it did sound. He shook his head slowly. "Somebody better have spiked my coffee with something, or it's going to be a Hell of a day," the man said in a low, gravelly voice.

He opened his eyes slowly, pushing himself up off his seat. He took a few paces forward, glancing upward at the sky. Everything was bright, as though the Sun had just gone supernova and they were experiencing the effects of it first-hand now.

His eyes fell upon it quickly. The spot in the sky was still very small, and was only now beginning to form the outer ring, so it appeared as a bright white ball. Lightning-like crackles rippled outward from it as energy was released. It was like a second Sun had formed right there in the sky. To someone who was inexperienced, they'd probably think that someone had set off a nuclear bomb in the upper atmosphere.

To someone who'd been in the war as long as he had? This was the indicator that all Hell was breaking loose.

The ball seemed to tear itself open. Wider and wider it spread, the outer ring of energy expanding through the sky, and the insides of the ring grew dark. Flashes of black and purple flickered in this new void, each one spawning a new arc of energy that crackled through the morning sky. The skies began to grow dark, as though the void was sucking the light out. The void seemed to linger there for a moment, not doing anything. It was, more or less, a self-contained black hole.

An anonymous voice announced various things over the communication lines. "Slipspace rupture detected. Control, are we scheduled for any friendly arrivals?"

"Negative, Kovcheg. Stand-by for further orders..."

The droning got louder, and suddenly the emptiness was filled. A tan-white, bulbous structure slowly emerged from the darkness, a massive object that was easily bigger than any building. It dragged out of the Slipspace rupture, carrying the tail end of the structure with it. The shape of its entirety was hard to describe, with a very bulbous form in the rear, and a bulbous yet hook-like forward section. Its design was an affirmative appearance in Covenant construction. Two ships shared the same design, the Assault Carrier as well as the Supercarrier.

The sheer size of this one made it clear: It was a Supercarrier. At twenty seven kilometers long, the thing was a monstrosity. Lord only knew what might be aboard it.

"Winter Contingency is being declared. The Covenant is on Nasip."

Alarm klaxons started to blare. Red lights began flashing all over the place, and the voice started to call everyone to their positions. Rommel looked down at the coffee again, and frowned. "I really hope I'll wake up from this at any second now..." He downed another drink, staring at the Supercarrier for a while longer. It was moving rapidly. Something was... Off. It wasn't showing signs of hostile intent, and no other ships accompanied it. Yet it was moving so rapidly...

At a downward angle.

Something else was amiss, too. There was some sort of cloud being emitted from the ship, through a great many holes in the hull of the ship. It had taken great structural damage, he could see that even from this far.

He watched from afar as the ship collided with several skyscrapers, and fell like a rock. A whole lot of debris was being kicked up, and he realized what was going to happen even as it was: the ship was crashing, and by the looks of things? Deliberately. Covenant didn't usually make kamikaze runs with capital ships, especially not before they did some other damages first.

Sighing, Rommel knew that a long day was ahead of him.

He chugged the rest of the mug, and shoved himself up and out of his seat. There was battle to be done, and he, as always, would be in the thick of it.