CHAPTER III

2215 HOURS, 19 JUNE 2555 (REVISED TIMESTAMP; UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)

ONI CASTLE BASE, PLANET REACH, EPSILON ERIDANI SYSTEM

"Lieutenant Jessica Fehling, Office of Naval Intelligence, Section Three."

"Voiceprint confirmed. Clearance code: Epimetheus. Access permitted to Priority Four documents and below."

"Shit," the Lieutenant muttered. "Fat lot of good P4 does us."

"Can't you hack the system?"

"I could sure try, but I hope there isn't an AI on this system- if there is, there's no chance. Only one person has ever hacked through an AI's security coding, and it wasn't me."

The team grew more and more agitated, watching the Lieutenant at work, letting minute by silent minute slip by. Fehling's fingers flew across the keyboard, making a sound akin to Mexican maracas as they struck the keys. Then finally-

"Protocol script accepted. Welcome, Admiral Hood. Clearance code: Jupiter. Access permitted to all Office of Naval Intelligence records."

Jessica Fehling pumped a fist. "Yes! Now let's see…"

Brakes strode over. "This thing will accept any voice key now?"

"It should."

"Computer- what AIs have been active on this system?"

"Scanning…found. UNSC M/CLAI ID CTN-4597/0241. Common name: Kalmiya. Attached to Section Three civilian liaison Doctor Catherine Elizabeth Halsey."

Every eye in the room widened behind polarized faceplates. The personal AI of the legendary Doctor Halsey had been the last AI on this computer system.

"Computer- activate AI retrieval process."

"Negative, exposure of Riemann crystal matrix to beta radiation has caused irrevocable data corruption- retrieval impossible."

"Damn it!" Brakes and Fehling exclaimed in unison. Brakes, though, went the extra step of pounding the keyboard once with a fist.

"Sergeant! We need the terminal active if we're to find our way around."

Brakes was unapologetic. Fehling simply sighed.

"All right, all com sets on, transmitting installation map data…now."

A green bar popped into place on the left edge of Pyro's visor, slowly filling, second by second. After around half a minute, a metallic voice chimed, "Download complete."

"Good. Now the base's layout should be part of your TACMAP as long as you're in CASTLE base. Now we can find out if anyone's…" she broke off abruptly.

"What is it?" the other four asked in unison.

"Sublevel Five, Area 6-B" a blank voice replied.

Several images flashed across Kurt's visor, finally zooming in on the overhead map of Sublevel 5. On the map legend, Area 6-B was listed: SPARTAN-II ARMORY.

"ODSTs, we have a new priority. We have to get to that armory NOW. If the rebels got their hands on any SPARTAN tech, we're in real deep shit."

"All right, troopers, you heard her! Weapons up and eyes open! Let's go!"

Squad Seven raced through the subterranean tunnels of CASTLE Base at a full sprint. Kurt's heart pounded in his ears despite his ragged breathing as he put one foot ahead of the other with his eyes trained down the rudimentary scope of his M7. ODSTs Squad Seven might be, but if the rebels had gotten their hands on SPARTAN armor, they would be in for one hell of a fight.

They arrived outside an otherwise completely nondescript door, but every person present knew better. The Sergeant put away his SMG, drew his pistol, and extended three fingers from his left hand. He then coiled them one by one- 3…2…1…

Invisible, the Lieutenant kicked the door clean off its hinges as the squad burst into the room, a weapon pointed at each and every corner.

The room was huge- thirty seven-foot lockers stood side-by-side, doors shut tight. A dozen crates were stacked neatly at the back of the room- some open, some shut.

"Shit… they already took something…"

"Is it possible that UNSC soldiers took any of it?"

"SPARTAN Blue Team returned to Earth with some experimental tech- maybe some of it came from here. But we can't assume that this is the case. Thinking the rebels are more dangerous than they are is better than assuming they're harmless. I'll need to run inventory in the computer system- see just what was taken." Fehling bent over to examine some of the crates.

Brakes piped up again.

"All right. Etch, keep watch and- what's up with you?"

John ran up the line of lockers, peering into the metal grilles at face level. Ignoring the Sergeant, he stepped right up to the Lieutenant.

"The SPARTANs- they'd leave their armor in here when they weren't using it, right?"

"Yes, Corporal. But all those SPARTANs were MI-" she paused, and then sighed wearily, "killed- killed in action. The only things that should still be in there are their older suits- Mark IV. They were wearing the Mark V during the battle."

Pyro pulled up Etch's BIOCOM on a hunch. Sure enough, his blood pressure had just spiked, and the solute level in his bloodstream fell steadily- as if he was sweating. Profusely.

"So those lockers shouldn't be empty?"

"What are you getting at, trooper?"

"There's nothing in them- not armor, weapons, power packs- nothing, sir. It's all gone."

The ramifications did not need to be discussed. Thirty suits of MJOLNIR Mark IV armor were in the hands of rebel forces.

A full minute of silence ensued.

"Troopers," came the Sergeant's voice, the same as always- and yet different, "let's go. We've still got another mission." He traipsed from the room, his gait slumped and slow. Pyro understood it as well as he knew what was pouring from his heart like water from a broken pipe- hope was leaving him. At the very least, the four ODSTs and one ONI soldier would have to fight their way past thirty rebels in SPARTAN armor. The SPARTANs had faced thousands of Covenant troops on Reach's surface- hopeless odds.

This was beyond that. The rebels would be wearing armor less powerful than that of the Spartans, but they outnumbered the squad six to one. This wasn't a fight. It was suicide.

Pyro broke the ice.

"C'mon guys, Sarge is right."

And with that, Squad Seven walked from the room.

Only one of them seemed to still have their heart in the mission. Fehling strode with purpose- the rest of Squad Seven seemed content to just amble around.

"Pathetic. What the hell's wrong with you four? The Covenant attack and you're all raring to go- a few rebels commandeer derelict MJOLNIR armor and you mope? Get a grip!"

The four ODSTs just stared at her. Of course she wouldn't panic. ONI had been known for pulling every damn stunt in the book, and then writing new ones, just to survive another day. SPARTAN-II was proof enough.

The Lieutenant shook her head. "Pathetic…" was all she said before the five kept moving. They entered a storage corridor. Crates and sealed containers littered the room. The UNSC had definitely left CASTLE Base in a hurry.

Oblivious to the slight patter behind them, Squad Seven continued on the route to its doomed mission.