Halo
On the Edge of Tomorrow
A Fan Novel by CMDR Fr33zy
PART I: TURKEY TROTS TO WATER...
CHAPTER 1: HOOD
APRIL 22nd, 2526 2473 HOURS
NEW ALEXANDRIA, ACHOSY TERRITORY, REACH
HIGHCOM HQ
Sitting in the near silent conference room deep in the heart of HIGHCOM, Rear Admiral Terrence Hood was biting his fingernails. Reading over initial reports from the Combined Fleet at Harvest, the Briton could do nothing but return to a dirty nervous tick that his parents had specifically hired a tutor to cure him of decades ago. He hadn't done it in ages, not even during the worst parts of his career when as a newly minted officer he had fought the Insurrectionists in brutal and deadly space combat. This was all before February 2525 however. This was before the poor souls of the Colonial Military Authority discovered that humanity was not alone in the stars. They had found alien life, and it was angry. Knocked from his thoughts by the opening of a heavy metal door, a UNSC Marine Corps Lance Corporal, immaculate in his dress blue uniform and shining leather Master-At-Arms belt with gleaming M6D locked and loaded in its holster opened the door, snapped to attention and called
"Admiral on deck!"
Instantly, Hood and his 22 fellow admirals snapped to attention for the man who followed. Already in his early fifties, Fleet Admiral David Menendez certainly showed his age. Buzzed salt-and-pepper hair topped his head where a few years before one would have found well-kept black waves. While he still cut an imposing figure standing a hair over six feet tall, he now walked with a pronounced stoop-the result of planetary gravity on a frame that had spent much of its life in zero or micro-G. It was clear to all the men seated that the Fleet Admiral was tired. Chosen for the position of Chief of Naval Operations for the entire United Nations Space Command, one could not deny that the Admiral excelled at his job, and despised it nearly as much. The news that had come from the colony of Harvest-who's hologram currently hovered half a meter over the conference table-had only served to age Menendez more it seemed.
The man had a bad heart-the result of a horrible combat action over Eridanus III with Insurrectionists more than 20 years ago. The then Commander had been manning the comm when a surprise attack by a terrorist-controlled tug had rammed his ship, the UNSC Chippawa, causing severe damage and causing the then-Commander to violently slam into a bulkhead, putting his heart into cardiac tamponade. He had been saved but his heart and vasculature had been damaged. The man had walked with a cane in Earth-G ever since, but it certainly had never slowed him down. Hood noticed that as he stepped into the room and walked to the podium at the front, that after a few seconds he immediately changed demeanor, standing straight, and stealing his gaze to look over the entire room of officer who together had decades of experience leading men into battle in space.
"At ease gentlemen...we've little time for formalities today. Our friend Mister Cole has engaged the enemy, and we have a new report from the Prowler Sombra that he has won."
At this news, a smattering of claps passed over the table, though what was most audible was a few signs of obvious relief. Hood himself let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, and he removed the tip of his thumbnail from his mouth before he subconsciously took another nibble. It was a huge relief to a tactician to know that his enemy could be beaten.
"He suffered over 60% casualties…" Menendez finally stated. The somber attitude of the room returned, and suddenly, damn his childlike mannerisms, he wanted to light up a cigarette just to get the shaking to stop.
"Major losses included 12 new Primal class destroyers, 10 Charon Frigates, a Halcyon-class cruiser Matador, and the Marathon Prometheus. In one engagement, we have lost more warships than in the previous 10 years of fighting the Insurrection combined...obviously, this information must be distributed to the public as...gently as possible." Menendez continued. He leaned heavily against the podium as he continued. The MAA continued to watch the room silently, standing a step behind and to the right of the Admiral.
As the other fleet officers began discussing the logistics regarding the loss of what would normally constitute an entire CMA battle fleet, Hood caught the gaze of the Fleet Admiral, who called him to the front with a silent wave. Terence passed a half dozen admirals on the way. To the front, slipping past Admiral Motti, in charge of PERSCOM who was sitting silently and reading the after-action report of the engagement, Rear Admiral Danforth Whitcomb who was already in deep conversation with Rear Admirals Jacobs and Jiang regarding methods of fighting this new threat, and Captain Zavala, an aid to Whitcomb, who was perspiring heavily under his uniform and clutching onto what appeared to be the Admiral's leather briefcase. His gaze briefly met Hood's, and he appeared to actually flinch away from him, looking briefly in the direction of the Fleet Admiral, and then back down at the desk, muttering what sounded like a prayer in his native Brazilian Portuguese.
Had he a family member or a loved one that had deployed with Cole's new Battlegroup 15? Hood didn't know, in all probability the man was afraid of losing someone he loved in an engagement against this "Covenant." Hood would be scared for a sibling or other family member as well if he were in his shoes.
Hood finally reached Menendez, stepping behind the podium and shaking the aging man's hand.
"Hood, it's good to see you son. Has the Home Fleet been treating you well?" He asked, referring to Terrence's new posting as second in command of the combined 1st and 2nd Fleets.
The fleets, following the Colonial Military Authority campaign to retake Harvest, had been posted around Sol following the panic and loss of contact with the colony. Overnight, the number of ships posted at the Oort cloud and Luna station had doubled, fully 60% of all CMA Naval ships had been conscripted into the UNSC Navy for the duration of the crisis, and the small naval forces recalled had been reconstituted into the "Home Fleet", comprised of the Regular Navy's 1st Fleet forces, and the CMA's 2nd Fleet. Truthfully, the CMA's restructuring had been nominal at best: the largest change having been a few cans of white paint marking the aging corvettes and frigates as new property of the United Earth Government rather than the Colonial Military Authority, but Hood, being posted as the new commander of the fleet, had been busy putting out the political brush fire created as captains and crew posted to protect their homes were conscripted and taken away from defending Earth's "colonies" in order to take up postings around the Mother planet in her defense.
It was a job that Hood's upbringing had certainly prepared him for. Nobody had batted an eye at the transfer request for a product of the British aristocracy, a Hood no less, requesting transfer from the XO posting of a Phoenix-class colony ship to a staff officer position and a brevet promotion during a time of crisis. Hood still kept in touch with James Cutter, but the two had certainly never seen eye to eye. Cutter was a company man if there ever was one. He loved his ship and his crew...and his career had suffered from it. Hood knew he would never fulfil his dream of truly leading men under the man, nor would he get true wartime experience on the Spirit of Fire and he found himself as adjutant to Menendez for just over a year and a half before he was given a ship and then a flag rank.
"It's been going tough sir. CMA is going through the same troubles that HIGHCOM seems to have, only they don't have a unified command anymore. We struggle with some of the younger captains who want a stand down order to return to patrolling the Outer Colonies," Hood responded. He glanced at his watch and groaned internally, noting that he had missed a daily briefing with his new XO, Commodore Harper, regarding modernization of his new "fleet." More paperwork that he would fall behind on.
"Well, that is good. You're the most important person here really. I wanted you to know first, before FLEETCOM got wind...your boys are up." Menendez responded, stepping close and placing a soft hand on Hood's shoulder. Within 6 weeks I want the 2nd ready to deploy to Harvest to relieve Cole."
"2nd Fleet sir? But...why us?" His mouth seemed dry and his mind raced. He ran through the scenario in his mind. Surely the UNSC had real expeditionary fleets ready that could be sent to Harvest. The 5th, 7th, and 9th Fleets had been deployed to the Outer Colonies almost exclusively for the past 5 years fighting the Insurrection, and had permanent bases on Paris IV, Bliss, and New Vladivostok, it made little sense to send in a reserve fleet made up of militia ships no less.
"Because son, we don't know the size of this thing. The UEG is still trying to sort this out and they don't think the current solution is deploying 3 battle fleets into the Outer Colonies. The situation is bad now," he stopped, looking back at the MAA who was doing his best to appear as if he was not absorbing not just their conversation, but the entire room's dialogue, before staring straight ahead and returning to parade rest as he noticed the CINO regard him, "Imagine dealing with this new alien threat while also dealing with Insurrectionists in the colonies protesting "military action."
"We...we can do it sir, but I'll need time to continue to forge the fleet. So far we only have 40 vessels and over half of them are the colonial equivalent of one of our frigates" He paused, pulling out a pocket datapad and showing the Admiral the breakdown of a fleet he doubtless knew most of the details about already.
"We will give you 7 more Tribal destroyers and a Halcyon to accompany you. All Under Heaven is a good ship. Slow but from what Cole's data shows, they can take a beating." Menendez noted, leaning against the podium and pulling up a schematic.
"You'll send an invasion force made up of our ships to attack us then?"
An unfamiliar voice chimed in.
The Master At Arms was looking directly at Menendez...and he was clutching the grip of his sidearm, though he hadn't drawn it.
Whitcomb stood up from the table and slowly approached the podium, an arm outstretched in a calming motion."Young man, you're gonna need to calm down...nobody is invading anybody. This is to defend the Outer-"
"Shut the FUCK up you goddamn Yunny!" The man screamed, this time unholstering the shining M6 and aiming it at the approaching flag officer. "What did I tell you Zavala? They couldn't be fucking trusted!"
Suddenly the entire room turned their gazes on the adjutant, still sitting and not daring to meet the gaze of any of the flag officers questioning him. "They approached me...they have my kids...my wife. They said they'd kill them!"
"Zavala...put the briefcase down...we can talk about this…I can help you" an older female voice responded. Vice Admiral Parangosky normally had a steely-eyed look that could kill a misbehaving Ensign, but as Cole slowly, ever so slowly backed behind the CINO and into a position where he thought he might do something about the gun-wielding terrorist, he noticed a glimpse of what appeared to be...fear in the woman's eyes.
"She can't. If any of you leaves here alive Captain, then your family is dead. We will cut their throats dead like you Yunny pukes did at Eridanus! At Harvest!"
The MAA was interrupted as Hood took action. Terrence had slowly closed within arms reach of the Insurrectionist and went for his M6. The two briefly struggled before going to ground. The Marine imposter was strong, too strong, corded muscle struck like a locomotive and punched Hood upside the head. All he could do is fight the man for his gun. He reached up and grabbed the man by the neck, squeezing at his jugular hard, but the MAA responded in kind by breaking his shooting hand free and moving it to aim it at Hood. He had less than second before it was all over, and he used it to drive his knee into the man's groin. Hard. He rocked forward in agony, allowing Hood time to slap the firearm away and deliver a palm strike to his head. He rolled out from under his attacker, returning the struggle to more even terms as he held the man's face down, struggling to peel finger after finger off the firearm's grip when he heard a shout.
The other officers in the room had surrounded Zavala, desperately trying to reason with the man, who had opened his briefcase...revealing a tangle of wires and at least 20 lbs of C12 high explosives.
"DO IT!"
Hood screamed, forcing the gun from the terrorists hand as he tried to stand, aiming the sights at the Captain before it was too late. Time seemed to move slowly. Too slowly. Zavala pressed the detonator that had been hidden up his sleeve. Hood was tripped by the grip of the man he'd just fought. He stumbled behind the podium and watched the fireball as it engulfed over 20 officers. He watched as friends he had known for years were incinerated. He watched as Jose Menendez was thrown clear by the blast, impacting the wall behind him with sickening thud and the still finality of a man that would never breathe again. He would later learn that he watched 73 different pieces of shrapnel impact the speaker's podium that he had tripped behind, inadvertently saved by known Insurrectionist Daniel Miller who had murdered and assumed the identity of a UNSC Marine 72 hours prior. He would stew over the name of that Marine that night, hoping his widow would find some solace in knowing that Hood put a 12.7mm slug into his head 8 seconds after the explosion according to AI surveillance of the room.
At 0103 hours on April 23rd, Terrence Hood would learn he was one of two survivors from the HIGHCOM bombing. Danforth Whitcomb was the other survivor. Through sheer luck he had decided to charge the front of the room with the hope of opening the door and call for help from real guards that could have ended the situation. The blast had blown him clear...and also severed his left arm neatly at the elbow. Based on the chain of command he was now Commander in Chief of Naval Operations, and that made Hood his Vice Chief. It also meant that 20 flag positions were now empty.
The defenders of humanity now had no leadership.
Well, no structure anyway. Hood sat quietly in a dark unfamiliar office. An office belonging to the 2nd most powerful man in the UNSC. That man was dead, and Hood was in his place, playing a chess game for the fate of all of humanity, and he needed to know where his pieces were.
He made the call.
30 MINUTES LATER, UNSC Everest
"Cole...it's Terrence. We are recalling you."
"Hood we just retook a planet from a hostile alien force. We aren't gonna retreat now!"
"Not your fleet. You. You're my new head of NAVCOM."
This is an alternate-reality scenario. A made up butterfly effect to explore what humanity could have achieved without a Halo. What a change in leadership at the start of a conflict can do to an organization. Without spoiling too much, Star Trek fans will understand that this version of the Halo universe will look much like it is in a mirror, darkly.
I claim no ownership of Halo or any properties within, all belong to Microsoft. This is a fan work of fiction I derive no monetary profit from.