March 3, 2532 (UNSC Calendar)
New Alamo, Hercules, Zeus System
"Quinn?" My mother calls from down the stairs, "Come down for dinner!" I open my eyes and look at the clock next to my bed. Eighteen hundred. I sigh and roll out of bed, shuffling my incomplete homework off my chest to the floor.
I hate math, I grumble to myself mentally. I leave my room and step into the bathroom directly across. The light automatically flickers on as I wet my hand to fix the pillow induced cowlick. How my suede hair managed to mess up at such a short length always confused me. I sigh and slouch slightly. Math always had a tendency to put me to sleep. Being fifteen and in an advanced calculus course is my own damn fault. It came to me so naturally but it bores me half to death. I dry my hands and rub the sleep from my eyes. My blue-grey eyes shift in their gaze from shoulder to shoulder, eyeing the fabric of the lieutenant bars on the shoulders of my uniform. I proceed to beat the wrinkles from my trousers and jacket.
Satisfied with my repair job I leave the bathroom and stomp down the stairs, light shutting off behind me. I shuffle into the kitchen and take my place between my mother and father – at least where he is supposed to be.
"Where's dad?" I scoop some mashed potatoes and slap it onto my plate.
"Still at the office. He has been swamped recently," By 'office' she means the branch that ONI planted right here in the Zeus system, Hercules system. Being a fortress world in the early stages of development, you better believe ONI has its grubby little fingers in the pie.
With less than ten percent of the population that had zero ties with the UNSCDF, it is a highly loyal outer colony. If you are a parent and have a child, you more than likely send them to a military academy. My brother had graduated from a mechanized infantry academy, as it fit his capabilities and in-born talent. Meanwhile, the parents either teach at an academy or work in building up the planet to the similar glory of Reach.
While my mother is a linguist for the academy I attend, my father works on the less public side of building up this planet. He most recently has been kept late into the night by his superiors to finish a project, a "super-secret" one as my father would have described it to me when I was younger.
"How is your physics course coming along? Colonel Hakiim says you are a natural." Mom refocuses. I roll my eyes.
"Its astrophysics, mom, and it is a fuck-ton harder than physics."
"Watch your language!" She gasps. I recite it again except in the Mandarin equivalent. She huffs, displeased with my choice of words, but too satisfied with my mastery of Mandarin to continue her scolding me.
"Regardless of what it is called, are you enjoying yourself?"
I shake my head with a mouthful of roast beef. "Its math, mom," I swallow, "I hate math. Why put me in a program that I hate when I can just as easily be an Infantry-cadet like the rest of my friends?"
"Because the rest of your friends can't calculate a slingshot maneuover in their head, Quinn."
It is a tired argument. Why can't I be with my friends? Because you're a fucking genius, Quinn. Why can't I choose what I want to do? Because your talents are needed elsewhere, Quinn. Fucking bullshit.
I stand up abruptly and slap out the wrinkles from my Naval service uniform trousers. "I'm not hungry anymore." I make my way out of the kitchen and through the living room to the door. I hear my mom slam her silverware down and growl in frustration. Yeah, me too, mom. I remove my cap from the coat rack and leave.
Closing the door behind me, I look west. The sun is setting and my breath crystallizes in the dying light. Autumn would soon arrive, and with it the change in leaf colour. Unlike on Earth where all the leaves turn yellows, red, and oranges, the leaves on Hercules turn into a deep purple. From atmosphere the purples and the light greens from the hemispheres blend in swirls at the lush, dark green equator, giving it a rather unique look. I thought it looked beautiful when I saw it. My father showed me a picture on the internet when I was seven. I would spend hours looking at pictures after that.
I smile at the memory but it turns into a grimace. Dad isn't around much anymore, always working on some stupid ONI project. He missed my promotion to Lieutenant last week after the drill competition because he was called to go in to work. What could be so important that he had to leave in the middle of my squad's performance? He can't even tell us what he is working on. I can understand secrecy in the face of the Human-Covenant War and the Insurrection but both have yet to show their faces in this part of the galaxy. But I'd rather have some sort of explanation for why he'll not come home and disappear for days at a time.
I shiver as the last of the light transcends the curve of my side of the planet. I pull my double breasted service coat together and button it.
Inside I can hear the telephone ring. My mother answers it and all goes quiet for a moment, minus the native species of insects. The door opens behind me.
I turn and I face my mother, eyebrows raised in hope. "Your dad isn't coming home for about a month this time," She sighs. I repeat the gesture, hopes dashed. That's the longest he has ever had to stay at work. Maybe a week or three but never any longer than that.
"Did he say why?" I ask, confused.
"It was Vasilik. I couldn't even get to talk to your father. But you know why, Qui-" She begins to say but something in the west catches her attention. She steps out and I redirect my gaze to her line of sight.
A light in the west grows, a white and blue light. At its brightest, a beam of the light tears into the sky, almost looking solid as it cuts through the atmosphere into space. Then we hear it. A gargantuan crack of supersonic proportions shakes the leaves on trees and rattles the glass of houses. Car alarms go off and dogs bark as our neighbors come out to investigate.
Dear God, why did it have to come from the west. "I think we know why he has to stay now," Mom says softly. I stand there stunned by what I had just seen.
Holy shit.