AN: ALRIGHT! Listen up, this new story is a message. 1. I'm gonna take a break from Ghosts in the Gate after posting the next chapter. And 2. I'm gonna finish Pandora, one reason it's taking me so long to do so is I'm going over the typos and confusing paragraphs. But at the same time, I decided to explain the whole references I've made in the fic. You know… when I mentioned referencing a game, and seemingly no one recognized the Frontier Militia from Titanfall? I even dropped 'titan' as a hint and said it wasn't Attack on Titan.
Well regardless, I think this will be a gud fic… for now anyway. Now yes, the next chap for GitG IS in progress, just halted for now. So don't worry your heads off.
The first chap is gonna be short, and… sweet? You be the judge.
Note, this is before the Titanfall you know. Example: Blisk is a youngblood compared to the Blisk you know.
Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation Airbase Sierra, Leviathan, January 14, 2544
The planet was well-named. Well-named indeed. Consisting of lush swamps and arid valleys. Also named after the creatures of the same name. Huge towering creatures that so far, only stood there and intimidated those who saw them.
The year is 2544. What could've been a glorious age for Humanity became an era of war. War with itself, then against an alien conglomerate known as the Covenant. This war is not going well. Since 2525, when Harvest fell, the Covenant had been pushing into Human territory, destroying worlds and killing entire populations in its 'Holy War.' All Humanity knew was it was deemed an affront to the Covenant's gods, God knows why, and were to be eradicated.
With the threat of extinction growing closer, Human rebel groups have abandoned their wars for independence, and instead have joined the United Nations Space Command in their struggle.
But not all…
Human space was divided into the core systems, at the heart of which, was Earth. Then the Inner Colonies, supporting tourism, industry, living space, the typical duties of cities. Lastly, the Outer Colonies, they were the newer planets. And the first to get hit. They were the resource rich planets before the Covenant showed up. Now there's barely any left.
Barely, not none.
There's at least one region that was left untouched by the Covenant war machine. The Frontier. The newest of the colonies where resources thrived. And it was here the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation settled worlds in the name of the United Earth Government. Until the serious rebellions back in the home systems. Generations later, the IMC returned and found the Frontier flourishing by itself with resource rich worlds. Upon realizing this, the UEG sent orders to the IMC to peacefully negotiate with the new forces at play to mine the materials. Success was abysmal, very few falling into the play after a brief time. And diplomacy worsened as time progressed.
But when the Covenant came into the picture, it all broke down. The IMC wouldn't take no for an answer anymore, not with Humanity at stake. And it resulted in war, a war between the army of the IMC and the Frontier Militia, the decade old force of 'freedom fighters' from the Frontier who have made trouble even before the war began. Despite the looming Covenant threat, the Militia claims independence rather than survival.
The conflict was dubbed The Titan Wars.
The war has been going on as long as the Human-Covenant War, but now it is entering a major point in time. And if you're interested in the future of Humanity, it's for the better. The Militia have been winning some key victories as time passed, but the IMC was on a level field. A few weeks ago, the IMC had secured a chance at landing a major blow on the Militia. The Militia leadership was securing a meeting place on a neutral planet. A strike there could seriously destabilize the Militia there
However, they need a surefire means of doing so, and they have contacted the UNSC to ask for help in what could very well be the end of the Militia.
The call was heeded, and now, four soldiers make their way to the Frontier.
The dropship made good time as it descended towards the base to offload its cargo. The IMC knew their stuff. Being a massive industrial conglomerate tended to do that. The IMC had the support of Earth to go out into space. The UNSC had jurisdiction over all Human worlds, but those with the IMC's name on them as well were permitted to employ their forces there. Same with other worlds, such as the Resource Development Administration.
But nowadays, with the UNSC forced to focus much of its military might on the worlds threatened by the Covenant, the IMC and other companies have been given broader, but still strict freedom on their planets. Of course these forces understand the magnitude of the war, and the IMC have made their contributions in the form of Titans.
Titans were what made the IMC unique, they are advanced battle mechs developed by Hammond Robotics, the Titan is often referred to as the PMC brother of the UNSC Cyclops mech.
Unfortunately, the Militia have the capability to make their own. It was to be expected when they raided an IMC station testing the Stryder Titan. A small, thin variant.
Now, the IMC has full authority in regards to dealing with the Militia. Militarily anyway.
"So, this is how IMC bases run, huh? Not bad, for guns for hire." The speaker was an armored mountain of a man. Wearing what those in the UNSC would refer to as the Centurion armor system. (This is pre-Halo 1 mind you, so don't think the armor from 5.) with the familiar green that all UNSC personnel used, with dents and discoloration from use. His cohorts wore the same color, but different systems. A second was female, with ARGUS-class armor. A third with HERMES-class. Finally one wearing the standard gear of the Mark IV armor system those of their forces used.
They were Spartans, the best Humanity had to offer, and the one force the Covenant legitimately feared. The four were collectively known as Blue Team. Spartans-104, 087, 058, and 117. Frederic, Kelly, Linda, and John. They were pulled from the frontlines of the Human-Covenant Theater by request of the IMC, who was fine with any Spartan team. They were here to participate in the operation against the Frontier Militia. An operation that could very well be the end of the force, or at least a good portion of it.
"They may not be UNSC, but they know how to run a base or two." Kelly said, her English accent being clearly heard.
"Last I heard, the Militia's got leaders meeting up. If they don't ready up, and I'm not hoping they do…" Linda began. Everyone was thinking the same thing. So far, the three were talking about the situation and hoping to get to be on the ground in proper time. Being on a transport for so long was NOT a Spartan's habit. Spartans belonged on the ground and in the warzone.
"Hey. John. You okay?" Fred asked his leader, whose gaze never left the window. At least until a few seconds after Fred spoke.
"Huh?"
"Spacing out Chief? That's not like you." Kelly remarked.
"I've just been thinking… this isn't Covenant territory… and not just some other Human rebellion area… I'm really itching to get off the ship and to briefing. I want to get some progress towards the Militia going…" John said. He was calm, but there were traces of eagerness and impatience in his voice. When the CO's informed the Spartans as a whole about the request from the IMC, the Chief instantly volunteered at the mention of 'Frontier Militia.' His team wasn't surprised by that. They knew one another more than family did. And they knew why he was so… uptight.
Elysium City, Eridanus II, July 12, 2517.
The UEG Outer Colony Eridanus II, a rural colony devoid of pollution or crowding. Climate controlled weather.
For many, it was the perfect place to start a life. Good schools, good cities, good well, everything. Though even then, it wasn't all peaches and cream. The planet was a location of hostility to the UNSC, the military arm of the government and main enforcement of order.
Even so, it was relatively peaceful on the planet. The skies were often clear, people just happy to be able to go to and from work. Just ask the family of a young boy named John.
"John! You almost ready?" A man called.
"Yeah father! Just a minute, I'm coming!" Called a child. Wearing a green and white shirt with shorts. The brown-haired blue-eyed boy came down the stairs of his home. Nothing special. Just a simple 26th century household. John has been living here since he was born, same goes for his family and friends.
"Good. Aunt Jenny and Uncle Gerald aren't gonna wait forever." The mother said.
"Aren't you ready?" John asked his parents. The two laughed nervously.
"Ah… yeah… we just-" The father began, before seeing his son cross his arms with a mock angry look.
"So it's ok when YOU aren't ready, but whenever I'm a second late?" John said jokingly mad.
"Ok ok you got us son." The father chuckled. The TV that was on was changed to the news as they made their final preparations.
"-and with that, the UNSC has declared a successful launch of their latest frigate, the UNSC Vector. On another note, tensions between Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation forces and the Frontier Militia are once again flaring up as Militia leaders deliver speech after speech of the inevitable freedom of the Frontier's outer worlds-"
The reporter continued speaking as John watched. Seemingly intrigued by the news. "Why is the Militia acting up like that? If I remember correctly, all the IMC did was take two planets from the Frontier after going back from the rebellions closer to Earth." John said.
Around the years before 2490, a flare of rebellion sounded in the Inner Colonies, the IMC was forced to relocate its military forces to counter the growing threats. Come the present year, the IMC returned, only to find a collection of planets flourishing with access to plentiful resources. Diplomatic measures were attempted, still are, but it gets harder every day. Especially with the Militia getting restless.
"Those planets used to be theirs. Minor-wise, but theirs nonetheless. People are at times, selfish. I don't have an opinion on whether or not on who it belongs to. Sure the Frontier had them for a while, but the IMC had them first, and with all the stuff going on, I can see why the resources are being sought after."
John stood there confused, but listening. His father chuckled. "You're too young to understand, but let me tell you this. Things don't always make sense, and people often don't like being told what to do, especially without good reason. Okay, John?"
"… I guess so dad. I guess so." The child answered. His father patted him on the shoulder and got up, they were finally ready to go. They stepped out of the door and outside. The sun was shining and birds were chirping. It was a textbook scenery.
A while later, the family made their way to the center of the city, where the Aunt and Uncle waited in a restaurant. First came the process of telling the greeter what was going on, then being escorted to the table. Reaching the table, the adults greeted one another while the Aunt and Uncle gave their greetings to John.
"So, Frank, how's the urban life going?" The uncle asked.
"Ah it's going well Gerald. Job's going well and pay's great. How about you?"
"Heh, you know-"
"So Jenny, I hear you're getting a new Hog instead of the fancy cars everyone's so into?"
"Oh you know me Alice, I never was a city person."
"Oh God Jenny, you're going to drive me nuts. Sooner or later you need to get some city into you. Otherwise you'll-"
John cared little for the adult banter, he listened, but paid no heed to it. He was focused on his small bowl of mac and cheese that the waiter had delivered to him earlier. And so far, his only priority was eating. His father was right, life was good and what little inconveniences there were weren't worth bringing up. Here he was with his family, what more could he ever want?
His actions were cut off by the loudest sound he ever heard in his life.
The world was black before he saw colors… mixtures of black, orange, yellow, and red. Was it Halloween? Then he smelled something… smoke. He came too, the restaurant was ruined. A big gaping hole in the side near where his table was. There were people around, but they weren't moving.
"Mom? Dad?" No answer. "Uncle Gerald? Aunt Jenny?" No answer. The sound of sirens in the distance reached his ears, then he realized they had to be outside. He fumbled around the mess, what happened? He was eating his food, then suddenly, there was a loud noise… was it an explosion like on TV and in games? It was too much to process. "Mom? Dad? Uncle Gerald? Aunt Jenny?" Nothing.
He made way to the light, and found himself looking upon a gathering of emergency workers and people. No sooner did he leave the area, that SWAT officers and an EMT went to him. They asked if he was ok and if he was hurt of course, but he just responded with, "My name is John, where are my parents?"
The EMT relayed to the audience, only for two adults to come forward, despite orders from police.
"JOHN!"
"Mother?" The reunion was expected, the adults were indeed his parents, and they embraced their son. Who was still in a daze as he only stood there. "Mom? Dad? Where are Aunt Jenny and Uncle Gerald?" The parents stopped what they were doing and looked at their son, with faces that grew darker.
"John… they…" His father began, but before he could finish, John caught a glimpse of black bags. Dozens of them. The last two held familiar faces.
"Is… is that…" John was a child, but he knew substantially more than most. Death being part of it. "What… what happened?" He asked, getting teary eyed. "WHAT HAPPENED?!"
…
The funeral was held as expected, nowadays headstones were replaced by holographic projectors bearing the face, name, and dates of the deceased. It was also raining.
John was detached for a while after the events happened. He would go to school and interact with others, but was relatively emotionless. It was expected from a child who underwent such a traumatic event. But things got worse after the news released a report. A report about the accident. It was no accident.
It was a bombing.
"-and the latest information points to… oh my God… is this accurate…? It is? Oh God… those claiming responsibility, and who perpetrated the act are the Frontier Militia. The motive was to eliminate a high level IMC official, said official still hospitalized after-"
John sat and listened to every word. And to think he was talking about the Militia that day. He felt an anger rise in him. Not just any anger. This wasn't the anger of a child who didn't get what he wanted, or was told what to do and not to do, or was disciplined by his parents. No. This was real anger, anger that made you want to find who was responsible and tear their very being apart.
He could only guess how long he could harbor it.
…
Decades have passed, but the pain still remained. And now with the Militia being here, and on its potential last legs, John was understandably emotional. Or at least as emotional as Spartans came. "We're closing in on the drop zone Spartans, ready yourselves for departure." The words of the IMC escort was heard as the Spartans readied themselves and got up. This Goblin dropship was a bit more cramped and too flashy for the Spartans in comparison to the Pelican they were so familiar with.
The Spartans disembarked after the ship made contact with the ground. Easily catching the sight of all who were stationed there. It wasn't hard to imagine why. After all, what would you do if Spartans, the greatest soldiers in history, showed up at the base?
Upon seeing the IMC forces, the Spartans made not of their stark contrast to UNSC soldiers. The IMC preferred clean, gleaming silver-white scheme. Outside of the base walls were the massive creatures inhabiting the planet. Creatures called 'Flyers' flying around them like flies to cows. "Jeez… those things are big." Fred said.
"Yep. Thank God for the dog whistles." The escort said. "Dog whistles?" Linda asked.
"Sonic emitting Wildlife Repulsor Towers, they force the wildlife away." The escort said. The only eventful thing about the walk into the base was the fact that nearly everyone was staring at the Spartans as they passed.
The inside command center was what one would expect. At the center was the lead commanding officer. A Colonel Adams Reacher. The escort spoke with the Colonel first as the Spartans hung back, before the officer spoke with the Spartans. "Damn… I was expecting one for sure… but four? I feel like I won the lottery." The man said, joy evident in his voice. "I'm Colonel Reacher, the Commanding Officer of the airbase."
"Blue Team reporting for duty." John answered.
"As of right now, Airbase Sierra is on an easy shift, with the fleet monitoring for Militia activity… God knows why we have you here and not there." Reacher said.
"Sir, permission to speak." John said. "Granted."
"We were sent to assist in destabilizing the Militia, but instead we're here at a secure area. What is the purpose of that? And would it be possible to move in on the enemy now?" John asked.
The Colonel laughed. "You know I asked my superiors the same thing, turns out it's the UNSC. They want you here in case they need you elsewhere immediately. After all, this IS the closest planet to the warzone. Even so, I don't agree with it. I'd say just send you in and be done with it."
"As big of a threat the Covenant are, if you send us in to the planet now, it would eliminate the need for transport later. So we'd be dealing the Militia a blow that could be just what could end them, or take a long time to recover from."
"I understand son, believe me I do, even so, we need to keep the Covenant in mind. As much as I agree with you, we can't gamble everything on a strike. Don't worry soldier, the fleet is pursuing those insurgents as we speak, they aren't getting off that easy."
"Yes sir, it's just with the situation…" John trailed off.
"I share your frustration, but as we all know, we have priorities. Is there anything else you wish to know?"
"Where will we be staying, where is the armory, and are we allowed to conduct training exercises?" John asked.
"There's a barracks that is as of now, currently unoccupied, it's all yours. The armory is located in this structure on the lower levels. Firing ranges included. And as for the exercises, we try to stay inside the base, there's some mean old bears out there, I'm sure you've seen them." Reacher said, referring to the Leviathans. John nodded and saluted, directing his team to do the same and follow him. The Colonel would update them when something came up.
"So… you think this is a good idea…? I mean, keeping us here with the Militia at its weakest?" Fred asked, bringing up a valid point. "If we hit them now it could be the end."
"It would, but brass is being pretty strict about this. They want to be able to call us back if the Covies manage to show up nearby." Said Kelly.
"I can only hope that it doesn't happen, I'd like to get rid of the Militia while we can. This war isn't getting any better." Linda said.
…
The barracks was nothing to behold. It was a simple at that. The only outstanding feature was the fact that it came in the standard IMC colors rather than those of the UNSC
"Empty. Looks like it's ours for the taking after all… for now." Fred remarked. It was empty yes, plenty. In the back were some stations to help them take off their armor. Should the need arise. In fact, the Spartans had their armor removed already, some technicians helped them out with it when they made way to the barracks.
The Spartans decided to stay in for the day, the next day they'd be looking around the base.
…
The next day, it was fairly uneventful. The Spartans took watches while asleep, so one was awake at all times.
"So. Anyone read up on the IMC?" Kelly asked.
"Of course, you're not designated know-it-all, Kelly." Linda joked.
"Then what's your take on these Pilots?" Kelly asked.
"If they're half as good as they say they are, then I think we're in for a bit of a surprise. Not saying they're better than us, cuz they're not." Fred said.
"Still, from what I read, they have access to some nice gear. Decent armor, training, and those jump kits. Apparently they're good at wallrunning." Linda said.
"Heh. I haven't done a good wallrun in a long time." Kelly said. "Yeah, you would be one to run on walls." Linda replied. Kelly was after all, the fastest Spartan of all. Once she started running, no one could catch her. No one.
"I'm heading to the armory, you're free to do what you wish. Be ready to fall in should an update be delivered." John said, walking out of the barracks, in his mesh suit. The armor on his bed.
"Should we follow him?" Kelly asked.
"He'll be fine. For now, we'll check up on him later. Nothing gets him calmer than letting a few shots lose in a firing range. Besides, I wanna see these 'Pilots.' I hear they tend to crowd in the hangar down a ways." Fred said.
…
RATATA- RATATA- RATATA
Short-controlled bursts were Standard Operating Procedure in war. And John excelled at it. He was experimenting with an R101c Carbine. The staple weapon for both sides in the war. It was pretty much the MA5 of the IMC. It felt lighter and more streamlined, but more jack-of-all trades than the MA5. He figured adding some accessories would help level this out. He was in there for a good few hours and decided enough was enough. John stepped out with the weapon, given to him by the quartermaster. The Spartans opted to leave their weapons behind, seeing as the IMC would provide.
Save for Linda, she insisted on bringing her rifle.
John's gaze was caught by something large and mechanical moving. It was one of those Titans. They were descendants of the exo-skeletons, suits, what have you of the 21st century. There were two variants. The standard one, seen here which was about 7 meters. Then the major variant, about 15. This one came out around 2535. Thankfully, only the IMC could build them, the construction details being very complex. The 7 meters were used in the Titan War, while more of the IMC generously donated some of the 15 meters out to the Covenant conflict, even sending some Pilots out there. John recalled an experience with one.
It was on one of the colonies attacked by the Covenant. When the aliens got to the city, the Titans began to fight. John was never so amused in his life, seeing some of the Covenant run for their lives. It was from these fights the IMC got their hands on shield technology for their Titans, that and negotiations with the UNSC. But unlike Spartan shields, which stopped all damage, the Titan shields reduced the effectiveness of attacks, to when the armor was merely scratched.
The UNSC regulated this new technology the IMC had. Basically the IMC could only apply shields to Titans, not infantry or Pilots. Which was ok for the company, since there wasn't enough to go on in terms of the tech taken form battle.
The Titan he saw now was loading crates on a truck, one of the civilian Titans. They did more than fight, they even assisted in manual labor. Continuing on, John entered the hangar that the Pilots tended to hang out. There were some dropships and a few Titans around. Unoccupied.
"-come on man. You can't be serious." The voice belonged to one of the IMC guards walking with three others.
"I am lad. I think the Spartans are actually robots under that armor. With skin. Like cyborgs or something." Said the second.
"Cyborgs? I know the Spartans are dangerous, but cyborgs? First Pilots now the Spartans." Said the third.
"Well, maybe it's a few enhancements. Like implants." The second one said.
"The UNSC doesn't even do those kind of implants." Said the first.
"Maybe they bought them from us."
"You're an imbecile." The third said.
"I'm telling you they're too good to be normal Humans."
'Oh you have no idea how close you are.' John thought as they passed him. A small smirk on his face. He decided to move to the Titans next, they were unoccupied and had no one around. It would be a good opportunity to look. From what he read, there was the Stryder, small and thin, a fast moving Titan. The Ogre, heavily armored and deals a big punch. Then there was the Atlas, the very first. A middleground balancing Stryder and Ogre.
The Titan John took an interest in was an Atlas. He climbed up the maintenance scaffolding to see the inside. The seat looked like something meant for utilitarianism, not convenience. Probably because the owner was a PMC. There was a weapon nearby for it. Easily identifiable from the size. The designation placed it as an XO-16 machine gun. What most people label as the standard Titan weapon. He wasn't one for the excitement many would exhibit when seeing something like this, but John certainly would like to utilize a Titan for himself. Maybe one day.
"Spartans, this is Colonel Reacher, report to the Command Center immediately. Repeat, Spartans report to the Command Center immediately."
The PA was answered by the Spartans rushing to the center, hoping it was something to do with the task at hand.
"Blue Team reporting for duty." John said, standing at attention.
"Good. You're here. Remember how you wanted to get at the Militia immediately?" Reacher asked.
"Yes sir." Said John.
"Excellent, because something just came up. This is Base Golden." The Colonel was at a holo table, with a base on display.
"It looks… abandoned." John said. Noting the worn looking buildings and condition of other emplacements.
"That's because it is. The repulsors there haven't worked for at least 5 years, but that's not why this is important. What is important is the fact that it's computers hold information on the repulsors, dangerous to try and do anything with without the repulsors keeping the wildlife out." Reacher said.
"So why is it important then?" John asked.
"Because the Frontier Militia are there."
Codex:
Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation: Formerly known as Hammond Engineering, is the second most powerful non-government state in Human space, second only to the Resource Development Administration. It, like the RDA is based on Earth. And is in the resource business.
Unlike the RDA however, the IMC enjoys a less strictly governed military, given the nature of the Militia and the Frontier's location to the Covenant. But even then, the UNSC dominates Human space.
The corporation started out small, in the natural resource industries. 15 years later, Titan manufacturing was in demand. Combined with market-cornering planetary survey tech and map database rights, contributed to growth. In one century the company became a sprawling commercial empire. Despite exploitative behavior, they are looked upon favorably by the public, as the materials they distribute are affordable and convenient.
When the Covenant appeared, the IMC realized one thing. "If we don't get those resources for the war effort, we're ALL going to die. The final diplomatic mission ended in failure when Militia soldiers killed the official sent, resulting in the Titan Wars.
Frontier: The Frontier is the newest collection of planets to enter the hold of Humanity. Where much of the IMC's operations take place. Originally under its control undisputedly, the IMC left decades ago to quell rebellion. When they returned generations later, they found the Frontier thriving with resources available everywhere.
The IMC tried diplomacy, which unfortunately, got harder as time passed. But when the Covenant came and made their intentions clear, the IMC resorted to force with their people facing extinction, facing the just as long Titan Wars that have gone back and forth.
Frontier Militia: A territorial defense pact made of the Frontier planets, the Militia is a loosely governed mishmash of homesteaders, bandits, mercenaries, and pirates all rising up as 'citizen soldiers.' A "can't beat 'em, join 'em" attitude in regards to the criminal groups they work alongside, including elements of other rebels like the United Rebel Front and the Eridanus Rebels. They don't see eye to eye on how to deal with the IMC, but they're unified in fighting it.
However, with the Covenant getting closer and closer each day, the Militia is beginning to lose supporters, and some of their own have turned coat and joined the IMC or even the UNSC.