Sam's internal clock woke him up at exactly five in the morning. He didn't stir, just opened his eyes and sat up. His room was the same way it always was, empty, save for the stand with his armor on it, and the cabinet on the far wall. He looked around, thinking for a moment how nice it would be to have a window, then stood and dressed himself. He understood that not every room in a battle cruiser could have one; it was just a bit of wistful thinking on his part.
Sam started his daily routine, jumping up to a bar set in the ceiling and starting his first set of pull-ups. He always did this when he wasn't in the field, exercise, then a few sessions in a combat simulator, then some target practice. At that point he would either walk aimlessly about the ship, or find something on battle strategy to read.
Today however, was different. He had just finished his usual fifteen mile run and was on his way to the training floor for his combat practice, when the intercom crackled to life. "Lieutenant Sam, 172, please report to Captain Thomas' office immediately. Sam 172, the Captain needs you to report to his office ASAP." Said a gravelly male voice before the intercom clicked off.
Sam's eyebrows rose slightly as he paused, then turned in the other direction and headed towards his superior's office. He wasn't close, having been on the other end of the ship for his planned day, so he jogged most of the way, ignoring the whispered comments and sparse greetings that were made as he passed other Marines.
He made it to the requested meeting place and knocked three quick raps on the doorframe. The same deep voice from the intercom earlier answered, "Enter." Sam walked in. The room was large, as rooms go on a battle cruiser. A large screen took up one wall, while a desk took up the one opposite. "Thank you for getting here so quickly, Lieutenant, the Captain is still on his way here from the Bridge, make yourself comfortable." This came from the ten-inch, blue, holographic figure of a muscular man in combat fatigues and a T-shirt reading 'MARINES' across the back.
Sam nodded to the hologram, as he made his way to the wall opposite the door he had entered through. Three windows looked out into the endless beauty of space. The battle cruiser was currently en route to supply materials to Harvest, a planet recently colonized by humanity. They were still several weeks out, but had just made preparations to enter slip space to cut that time down to a few days.
Sam stared into the abyss of space, coming to parade rest; feet shoulder length apart, hands clasped behind his back. He stood there, admiring the view for a full three minutes. He gave no outward indication, but he was quietly getting irritated that the captain had requested him and not been ready for him. He heard the door open behind him.
He span around and came to attention, "Captain Thomas, sir!" He said quickly, delivering a crisp salute.
"At ease, Lieutenant, my apologies for my tardiness, I had some trouble with a few marines trying to start a fight." He captain stated in a young-sounding, friendly voice, though he also managed to sound mildly irritated.
"Not at all, sir."
"Yes, well, it won't happen again if they want to stay on board. How are you keeping up aboard the Close?"
"The Battle's Close is treating me well, sir." Sam quickly replied, somewhat disliking the unnecessary conversation.
"Glad to hear it. Now, on to business. You are aware that we will be entering slip space at 1800 hours, correct?"
"I am, sir" Sam was thankful to be moving on towards what he hoped were his new orders.
"Good. You, along with the rest of the crew will be put into Cryo-sleep for the trip; however, you will not be staying for the duration of it."
"Sir?"
"Sam, I am going to have Duncan wake you up, early. You are going to be in the Drop-Pod bay by 0550 in two days, and you will have been launched by 0600. You, lieutenant are not going to Harvest. You are going to be launched onto Harmony as we pass."
"Might I ask what exactly I will be doing, sir?"
"Yes, indeed." The Captain said, pausing for a moment. "Duncan, would you care to explain?"
"I will do, sir. Sam, your skills as a Spartan are going to be put to use. We are dropping you on Harmony at the request of ONI. They want your help delivering a high-interest package of unknown origin, and heavily classified files say that it may be Forerunner, but that's all I can tell you for sure. It will be in a lead box, which will be inside a padded and heavily armored transport container to protect either from damage."
"With all due respect sir, wouldn't a Pelican make this easier, safer and faster?"
"The file shows that the aircraft engines malfunction for an unknown reason when the package is within a certain distance, once it is moved back away, performance reforms to normal. You and a small squad of Marines will escort the Package approximately 200 kilometers on foot to a lab for study; you are to protect it from damage. Another possible threat to this operation is the Insurrectionist activity that has been confirmed on the planet. Watch for rebels, and shoot to kill, however, only do so if attacked first. Understood?"
Sam was happy to finally have something to do, particularly if it involved getting off the ship, "Yes sir!"
"Good, be ready to drop at 0600. It was a pleasure having you aboard, Sam." The captain said, as he walked around the desk to stand in front of the soldier. He looked tiny compared to the nearly seven and a half foot tall super soldier.
"The pleasure was mine, sir" Sam said quickly.
"Dismissed" the Captain said with a nod.
The Spartan delivered another salute before leaving to prepare his few possessions for the drop to Harmony.
SPARTAN S-172
BATTLE'S CLOSE-IN SLIP SPACE
0530 HOURS
Sam pulled the one of his last pieces of armor on, and then turned to his helmet. He was covered head to toe in the signature MJOLNIR body armor of a Spartan super soldier. He wore the Mark V, not the most recent armor model available, but it was reliable and could take a serious beating. He picked up the helmet, staring into the visor to see the distorted reflection of his face. All his other belongings were in pouches in his armor, his cookware and a few small, sentimental pieces hidden in and underneath the titanium plates.
Sam stared into the visor a moment longer, and then pulled the helmet on. Immediately, the suit began to run a diagnostic. All systems came back green, and the suit sealed itself. His HUD gave him the familiar motion tracker display in the bottom, right hand corner.
Sam smiled before he left his small room for the last time, grateful to be on his way back to real gravity and legitimate air. He ran to the Drop pod bay, the hydrostatic gel in his suits' hydraulic system giving the half ton of man and machine some boosted strength and speed. The ships AI, Duncan, greeted him at his destination, "Lieutenant, early as always." He said in his deep voice.
"Duncan." Sam replied with a nod. He put his gear into the pod that had been selected for him, and started to get in, but was stopped by Duncan.
"Not yet Lieutenant."
Sam turned around, head cocking to one side, "Sir?"
"Here, take this," the AI said simply as a small holodisc was ejected from the panel that Duncan stood on.
Sam pulled the disc out of its slot and examined it for a moment before inserting it into the slot in the back of his helmet. His HUD flickered for a moment, and a new window opened, showing a young woman in jeans and a hoodie.
"Hello," she said with a smile, "I am the UNSC AI construct: Catherine."
Sam gave a small smile of his own, "Hello, Catherine. I am Spartan S-172, Lieutenant of the UNSC Marine Corps."
She smiled, "It's nice to meet you, Sam. I will be accompanying you starting now and continuing for duration of my life."
"Or mine," Sam said grimly, "whichever comes first."
She cocked her head, "I suppose so."
Duncan cut in at this point, "You'll be fine, Spartan. You are a super soldier wearing some of the most advanced in high-tech armor the UNSC has to offer."
Sam nodded, "Yes, sir, but we all know it'll happen sooner or later."
Duncan gave him a look, "Be that as it may, that day is not today. Speaking of death, we have approximately ninety seconds until launch, I suggest you strap in."
Sam complied, ignoring the attempt at humor and strapping himself into the pod in just under a minuet. He looked up and saluted to Duncan, who gave him a crisp salute back. "Until next time Lieutenant."
"Until next time." The door closed and Sam took a deep, calming breath. Launching into orbit was risky and incredibly dangerous; doing so in Slip space was even more so. After a brief moment of silence, the pod launched. Sam watched the ship for as long as he could, taking in the sheer size of the thing, before calmly drifting off to sleep, while Catherine monitored the descent and kept them on course. It was going to be a long trip.
Sam woke to Catherine calling his name. "Sam, get up! We're entering the atmosphere! Come on, look sharp soldier!" Sam shook himself awake, and looked around, everything seemed to be normal. He ran a final system check on his armor, and waited for reentry.
He didn't have to wait long. He was soon buffeted by a small bought of deceleration as his pod hit the outer atmosphere and suffered a bit of wind resistance. Catherine began a timer counting down to impact and tracked their descent. When they reached roughly eight thousand meters, the chute deployed; part of it broke away, quickly followed by the rest of the device. Alarms went off in Sam's suit as the backup chute deployed, but it wasn't nearly enough to slow them down. Digging his own grave, as the ODST's called it.
"The backup chute is tearing itself apart, firing brake rockets!" Catherine yelled, sounding concerned.
Sam's head was whipped forward as the pod decelerated even more rapidly than before, the rockets doing their job perfectly. They were still a hundred meters up when the brake rockets went out, and they might have sped up again if they'd had any time. They hit the ground going 36 meters per second; Sam was instantly knocked unconscious, Catherine's frantic voice fading into nothing.
