Chapter Three: Accolades and Ceremony

0700 Hours, December 12, 2552. UNSC Roosevelt Air Base, Skagen, Denmark. "The New Top Dog," Planet Earth. Prologue to the Fate of Humanity

It was a day of somber functions today. Besides all the usual mess of air patrols, aerial supply routes, and close air support runs his squadron performed at a near constant rate these days, First Lieutenant William "Willis" Hawk's squadron was also going to be attending the funeral of one of their own.

Their squadron commander, Captain Jason Dakota, had been killed in action a week ago. Though the man had been able to rescue the lives of over two dozen Marines on the ground the day he died, in the end he hadn't been able to save himself.

Willis felt terrible for the guy. He'd been an exceptional leader---and, he'd died in much the same kind of crash that Willis's co-pilot and friend, Second Lieutenant Alexander Drake, had died in. The one Hawk himself had miraculously survived. Now, the lieutenant wasn't sure if anyone that stepped in to take over the squadron would be half as good as Dakota had been.

I guess today we'll see who Major Collins decides is up for the job, Willis thought to himself as he sat up in his bunk.

He slowly ran a hand over his face, trying to force himself awake at such an early hour. Because he'd been spending an endless amount of time in the cockpit ever since he'd returned from his stint in Austria five weeks earlier, sleep was always a valued commodity that was never available in the desired quantities. It was always a couple hours here, a little nap there, and then straight back to the birds for more combat runs. After nearly four months of this same routine, with his only break coming in the form of several weeks' ground combat with his wife's infantry unit, Hawk found it just a little harder each time he had to wake up from a deep sleep.

Releasing a heavy sigh, he remained seated on the edge of his bed for a moment longer and absently picked up the picture on his nightstand. Despite its red-tinged corners---dried blood, courtesy of the crash that had killed his good friend but had somehow spared his own life---he still found it comforting at times like this.

But also somewhat painful, too.

I really miss you, Natalie, Lieutenant Hawk thought to himself as he stared at the photo. And Gabriel, my little son…I miss you a whole lot more than I could ever say, little buddy.

"Hey, Willis! What're you doing still in your bunk, man?"

Before Hawk could place the photo back on the nightstand, his best friend, First Lieutenant Brandon Heat, came bursting through the door to his quarters. The other lieutenant immediately frowned when he saw that Willis was still sitting on his bed, wearing nothing but his boxers.

"Hey, man. There's a reason why there's locks on these doors, you know. It's so that when you're busy jacking off to your wife's picture, your best friend doesn't come by to…interrupt your fun."

Willis glared at his wingman. "Jesus Christ, Brandon. I wasn't…it's a picture of me, my kid, and my wife, for God's sake, not just her."

"Oh." Heat grinned as he straightened his dress uniform. "So where do you keep the good ones, then?"

"Like I'd ever tell you. She's my wife."

"Whatever. I'm pretty sure I can figure it out on my own," Lieutenant Heat replied, stealing a quick glance at Willis's datapad, which sat on his desk across the room. Brandon turned back to his friend. "Anyway, you ready to go yet? You know we're mustering in twenty minutes, right?"

"Oh, shit," Hawk muttered. Running a hand over his short, light brown hair, he said, "All right, get the hell out of here, Heat. I've gotta go do the fastest shower-shave-dress-eat routine anyone's ever seen."

"Hell yeah, you do." Heat gestured to the picture, still in Willis's hand, and winked at him. "In that case, be sure to finish up quick then, buddy."

Lieutenant Hawk debated punching his friend in the stomach for that comment, but he was in too much of a hurry now to deal with him. Willis knew that if he didn't get his ass on the move soon, he would catch all kinds of hell for being late---and to his squadron commander's funeral, of all things.

As quickly as he could possibly manage, Hawk hit the showers, shaved, brushed his teeth, and then used his wet hand to push the super-short strands of his hair up. Next came changing from his currently scanty wardrobe into his freshly pressed Class A dress uniform, thankfully ironed to regulation standards the night before. After quickly making sure his combat boots, campaign medals, and the single silver bar of his rank insignia were neatly polished, Willis checked his watch. He had exactly five minutes left to rush to the mess, grab a cup of coffee and some chow, and wolf it all down before assembling with the rest of his squadron in the hangar.

Still, he didn't leave his quarters without placing the family photo in his breast pocket. Wish Daddy luck, Gabe, he thought as he all but ran for the chow hall. I'm definitely gonna need it.


Though technically not a clearly defined success, since the Covenant Prophet that Willis and Bravo Company were to take out had been found already dead, the ONI-ordered Operation Everest had served its ultimate purpose. Because of the high-ranking enemy leader's death, Europe not only remained securely in human hands for the time being, but it also temporarily disrupted Covenant communications across the continent. With their religious and military figurehead gone, the aliens had had a momentary collapse of command that UNSC forces were able to use to their full advantage.

The fight was far from over, of course; naval battles continued to rage in orbit all around the planet, and Earth was still being heavily hit, on each and every continent, by waves upon waves of fresh Covenant troops. Yet the situation in Europe, at least, certainly had the best foothold on the battle for Earth now. And maybe, Willis hoped, it would even be the staging ground for humanity's much-needed comeback.

And that's exactly what Lieutenant Hawk, his squadron, and the countless other UNSC units on the continent had been striving for for the past month and a half. That's what Captain Jason Dakota had died for. For the continued existence---and, God willing, the very future---of the human race.

How was it possible to live up to a commander like that?

It all still felt surreal to the former first lieutenant, that Major Erin Collins had chosen him to be the next leader of the squadron. There were so many other, more experienced officers. He wondered why she'd picked him. And he wondered if he was truly ready for this amount of responsibility. A whole squadron of pilots, and I've got to command them all now, he thought to himself. Now I know what Natalie probably felt like, when she had to take command of Bravo Company. Things are definitely different from this vantage point.

"Congratulations, Captain Hawk," the major said as she shook Willis's hand after the funeral. "You've done the UNSC and the uniform proud, son. And now you have your own squadron to command, too, to show for all your excellent work and dedicated service."

Willis was so stunned he wasn't even sure how to reply. "T-Thank you, ma'am. It's...it's a real honor, Major."

Major Collins smiled. "One you very much deserve, Hawk, and one that, in my estimation, is also a bit overdue. You're still fairly young, but your incredible skills in combat---especially when it comes to the cockpit---are more than worthy of the rank."

"Thank you, ma'am," he repeated lamely.

"No need to worry too much about it, son," the major said with a knowing chuckle. "I heard you took temporary command during the initial invasion itself, at Athens Station, so I know you're a quite capable leader. Captain Dakota always had very good things to say about you." She paused, and Willis watched as her expression suddenly turned serious. "We've already lost so many, in this invasion alone, William. A lot of good men, a lot of good officers. We need competent, and young but experienced, leaders like you. That's what it's going to take if we're going to defeat the Covenant once and for all and secure a future for our species. It all starts with having the very best at the top."

The freshly promoted Captain Hawk nodded. "Yes, ma'am. I understand." He took in a deep breath. "I think I'm ready to take up the mantle, Major."

"Very good, Hawk. We're counting on you, son."

The only thing no one took into account, that almost no one even spoke of, Willis thought then, was the other outcome of Operation Everest. Humanity had now stumbled upon an enemy that was even more of a serious threat to the human race than the Covenant.

The UNSC also had the Flood to contend with.