UNSC Army's Light Cavalry

by Saber 6 Actual

The story of the UNSC Army's Light Cavalry. Beginning with the Insurgency in the Outer Colonies and fighting through the Human-Covenant War.

4. UNSC Cavalry, Chapter 3, Class 7 Armory

UNSC Cavalry, Chapter 3, Class VII Armory aka "Kids in a Candy Store"

2523 MAY 25, 1300 hrs.

Orbital Defense Platform

Diego Garcia Station

Earth Orbit

I about faced. "At ease." The platoon relaxed from attention. "Alright, you heard the Colonel. We are heading to the Outer Colonies to take care of the "Innie" problem there for the UNSC. Second squad, Sergeant Wilson, go find the billeting office. Billet us by squad, see if they have something that can accommodate the NCOs in one room. We have planning to do. When you get the billeting assignments, get the duffels up there. Third squad, post guard on this bay until our gear is secure. Fourth, go find the chow hall, eat, come back and relieve third. First, you are with me. Let's go find the armory.

Naomi, Dale, Tom, Nigel, and I walked to the back of Bay Three, through the man sized door and we found ourselves staring down a long corridor.

"Ok Sarge, where to next?" Naomi asked as she was on point.

I moved past the other members of the squad, "Hell, I don't know, I've never been here before." I took the lead, "Follow me." We walked down what seemed like an infinite hallway with "hatches" on both sides ever couple of meters. After about one hundred meters we came to a four-way junction, thankfully there was a direction placard on the wall. Straight ahead was more billeting, left was the elevator, to the right was Cargo Bay 38. According to the placard we were on Deck 20, Section 20, Intersection 42 East. "We go left to the elevator and down four decks." We turned left and proceeded down another hallway for 50 meters and into the elevator. An elevator with no buttons, just a black glossy panel to the right of the door.

The door closed and we stood there in the elevator for a few seconds.

"Umm, there are no buttons, Jack" Tom stated. We all turned to look at him incredulously, you know, that 'Thanks oh great stater of the obvious' look.

'Destination Please?' A computer generated monotone male-ish voice asked.

"Deck 24 Section 38." I stated. 'This is going to be a long three days,' I thought to myself.

We couldn't feel the elevator moving except for a slight downward drop. Inertial dampeners, good ones at that. We felt the elevator lurch sideways, about as noticeable as the slight drop at the beginning. There was no noise inside except a barely audible humming from the magnetic field the elevator was traveling on. Twenty seconds later we felt a slight deceleration.

'Arriving, Deck 24, Section 38. Class seven armory.' The elevator voice stated. The door slid open and we stepped out. In front of us was a Marine guard behind a counter. Behind the Marine, another gray metal wall with a double-wide door to the left of the counter.

The Marine looked us up and down, focused on me and noticed the stripes on my collar denoting me as a Sergeant. "Good morning, Sergeant. Please insert your ID card into the slot." The Marine nodded downwards to the ID card shaped receptacle in the front of the counter.

I inserted my ID card into the slot, there was an LED display just above the slot. As my ID was processed a green status bar crept its way across the display from left to right. When the scan was completed it flashed a full green bar twice. "Thank you, Sergeant. The rest of your party please." Everyone else scanned their ID cards, while this was happening, the door opened, a Navy type walked through.

"Sergeant Storm. I am Petty Officer Orlan, NAVSPECWARCOM Ordinance Command. Colonel Thorton has relayed your authorization from HIGHCOM. Will you and your team follow me, please?"

We followed Petty Officer Orlan through the double door that swished shut behind us. Right turn through the door, down a short hallway, then a left. The next doorway we went through opened up into a room about two hundred meters long and one hundred meters wide. It was filled with guns, lots of guns. Every type of weapon in the UNSC arsenal. It looked like the armory contained the entire Misriah product catalogue in this one room.

"Sergeant Storm, my orders were a little vague. I was just told to expect you and outfit you with whatever you choose." The Petty Officer walked over to a row of what only can be described as military grade shopping carts and started to pull one out. "So it will be just you five then?"

"There are twenty one of us, Petty Officer." I said flatly.

"Rrriight." Petty Officer Orlan pushed the cart back, walked over to a desk with what looked like handheld scanner guns, unplugged one from its cradle and handed it to me.

"What is this for?" I asked.

"Every item type in here has a barcode on the shelf underneath it. Scan, enter quantity, press enter. Now, we have everything in here that is available to the UNSC," Orlan continued to explain, "Follow the green path, that will take you along throughout every equipment category area. Since you are going to be taking so much equipment, just leave what is on the racks there, and we will deliver your order by Close of Business today."

"Thanks Petty Officer Orlan. You coming with us?"

"Sure. This way. First up are uniforms." We walked as a group, following Petty Officer Orlan and the green line painted on the floor. "These are normally reserved for ODST, black undersuit, thermal regulation, fire retardant, air tight. The Kevlar/Nomex weave is puncture resistant, providing protection against shrapnel, stabbing, and small arms fire up to 50 caliber pistol rounds. Moisture wicking and non-chaffing, and form fitting."

"Do you have that available in mottled green?"

Four hours and an exasperated Navy Ordinance Command NCO later, First Squad and I walked back into Bay 3. All the duffel bags had been moved to our billets and the platoon was sitting in a loose formation in the middle of the bay (they acquired chairs somewhere, those really cheap, uncomfortable folding metal chairs that seem to only make it a few hours without breaking).

The only things First Squad took from the armory were four rucksacks, twenty one data pads, a pad of paper, a roll of 100 mph green tape, and two Sharpie type markers. The rest of the platoon saw us enter and started to stir in their seats.

"FORMATION! MOVE IT, FALL IN!" The platoon jumped up from their seats and ran over to form up at attention, First squads rank six feet from me at the head of the formation. "Platoon, Attenntion!" Nineteen pairs of boot heels snapped to.

"Squad leaders, report."

"First squad, all present and accounted for, Sergeant," Nigel Hawthorne reported. I had to designate an assistant Squad Leader to take over while I was in charge of the platoon.

"Second squad, all present and accounted for, Sergeant. Platoon billeting secured on Deck 16 Sections 38 through 42. All gear secured in respective "berths"." Sergeant Wilson winced as he said "berths".

Third and fourth squads reported in a similar fashion.

"Berths, Sergeant Wilson?"

"Yes Sergeant, another one of those "Navy" terms, Sergeant."

Most of the platoon found that funny, "Understood."

"Troopers, we have been to the armory and our gear will be arriving shortly. For now, we have a data pad each. When the gear gets here this afternoon, we will have to put a 24 hour guard on it until we leave the station. From the time it arrives to the time we leave; we will be assigning individual weapons and equipment, and inspecting and if necessary, repacking everything else. Once you are issued your sidearm, you are to be armed at all times, just like the rest of the combat soldiers on the station. First squad, lets start getting the signs up so we are ready when the gear starts arriving. Second, Third, and Fourth squads, get these chairs folded and against the wall, get that podium and dais, and the flags out of here. Second thought, keep the Cav flag, we are going to need it. Fall out."

The other squads went about their assigned tasks. The members of first formed a semi-circle around me. I pulled out the pad of paper, the tape, and the markers. "Ok this is the way it is supposed to work, assuming the delivery guys from the armory bring the stuff in the order I specified." Labels were made with each category and type of equipment written on it and taped to the walls of the loading bay. By the time we were done there was a beeping and a flashing yellow light coming from the main bay door control panel. "Dalton, go get the door."

Tom Dalton sprinted over to the control panel and pushed the 'Open' button on the control panel. The huge two foot thick door slid open, on the other side was the first forklift in what would be a very long procession. Petty Officer Orlan was in front.

"Sergeant, good afternoon." We shook hands. "You guys ready to receive this stuff?"

"Good Afternoon, Petty Officer. Bring it."

One hundred pallets of OD Green and Black military shipping crates (some square, some rectangle, spring loaded handles on all side with spring loaded latches securing the lids) and one hour later, everything I requested from the armory was arranged by category and type along the walls of the cargo bay.

As the stacks of equipment crates got higher and more numerous, Marines (ODSTs and Regulars) that were in the main docking bay started getting really curious as to why the Army needed so much of their equipment. As the last forklift left the bay I walked over to the main bay door controls, just then an ODST officer and several NCOs walked up to me.

"Sergeant?" The ODST officer started, "Who authorized you to take equipment from OUR armory?"

I snapped to attention, an officer is an officer after all. "Sir, we have orders directly from HIGHCOM to equip ourselves as we see fit out of this station's Class VII armory."

"Huh…let me see your orders then, Sergeant." The ODST officer was clearly anticipating the ass chewing he thought he was about to give me, the ODST NCOs were standing behind the officer, slightly grinning.

"Hawkins, my data pad, here, now!"

"On the way, Sergeant." Dale double timed over, handed me the data pad.

I swiped the 'unlock bar', entered my four digit passcode and brought up the relevant orders. "Here, Sir."

The ODST lieutenant took my data pad and started reading. As he read down the page his facial expression went from annoyed/pissed that the Army was, in his eyes "stealing" from the UNSC Marines, to beet red embarrassed/I'm a ODST Officer that just got one upped by an Army Sergeant. "Very well. Carry on Sergeant." The officer handed me back my data pad. "Let's go, Marines." The Marine NCOs that were with him had puzzled looks on their faces but nonetheless, followed their Platoon Leader out of Bay 3. I pressed the controls and the doors slid shut.

I walked over to the far end of the bay, the platoon was in a loose formation, first squad was handing out data pads. "Listen up. Down at the far end of the bay there are empty personal equipment crates. Inside each of those crates is a duffel bag, not everything you are getting today will fit in the crate. Weapons, ammo, and body armor in the crate, clothing and soft tac gear in the duffel. Duffels will be secured in your billets, crates stay here in the bay and will be loaded with the rest of this stuff in general cargo. Now everyone, go grab a personal kit crate.

With that out of the way I began to go down the list of the equipment each Cav Trooper would be issued.

"Alright, as you move through the issue line you will each be issued the following weapons and munitions: 1 x M6D Personal Defense Weapon with drop leg holster and back up/concealment holster and three magazines, 1 x M6C SOCOM aka M6S Suppressed variant of the M6 series, with drop leg holster and six magazines, 1 x M7S Suppressed Caseless Submachine gun with side folding stock and five magazines, 1 x M392 Select Fire Single and Auto Designated Marksman Rifle with variable 1.5 to 6 power Tritium illuminated smart link capable, red chevron reticle Combat Scope with grenade launcher interface, quick attach suppressor, and under barrel 20 mm smart grenade launcher with five – thirty round magazines (not the standard 15 round magazines given to Regular Army, an advantage of raiding a SPECWAR armory); 7 Enhanced High Explosive Dual Purpose 20 mm "smart grenades, 3 buckshot, and 3 napalm 20 mm grenades; 1 x M392 to BR55 short barrel, bolt, and magazine well conversion kit with five magazines, 2 x smoke grenades, 2 x thermite grenades, 2 x 4 million candlepower/200 decibel flashbang grenades, 3 x M9 fragmentation grenades, 10 meters of thermite – carbon cord, 2 x cans of C-7 foaming explosive, 20 x micro-remote detonators for C-7 foaming explosive, 1 x claymore mine, 1 x trauma kit containing: 2 x cans biofoam, 2 x chest seals, 2 x tourniquet, 2 x pressure dressings, 2 x cravats, 2 x morphine auto-injectors; 1 x multi-tool, 6 x d-ring bungee cords (2 x of each of 3 different lengths), 100 feet of 550 lb. test paracord, 100 feet of green multipurpose tape, and 1 x standard issue UNSC Combat Knife."

"Sergeant?" A hand raised from the middle of the formation.

"What do you want?"

"Sergeant, I thought our mission was to save the Outer Colonies, not crack the plant in half and kill every living thing on it!" The entire platoon chuckled at that. Private Danny Purcell, 100% trooper, 100% smart ass.

"Oh, Danny, I thought we left you in Atlanta. Dummer. Thought you were going to keep your trap shut for once," I fired back. "True, I am issuing you more equipment than we have ever had access to at any one time, but we really have no idea what we are getting into out there. You heard the Colonel, intel is sketchy on the situation out there…besides, better to have it and not need it than to need it and not have it."

"Hooah, Sergeant." Pvt. Purcell sounded off, (Before you scratch your head in wonderment, "Hooah" is Army, "Hoorah" is Marines, don't ask the difference).

"Now, Troopers, that was just the weapons. Combat Uniform will be a mottled green undersuit, thermal regulation, fire retardant, air tight. The Kevlar/Nomex weave is puncture resistant, providing protection against shrapnel, stabbing, and small arms fire up to 50 caliber pistol rounds. Moisture wicking and non-chaffing, and form fitting; Mottled green flight oversuit, also air tight. Level IVenhanced, ultra-light, multi-threat thermal dissipating full-body, body armor complete with shin, thigh, pelvic, shoulder pouldrons, forearm guards, chest and back hard armor with 'upgraded and enhanced' abdomen soft armor. Fire, chemical, and puncture resistant, air tight, zero slip assault gloves. One rifleman/grenadier ammunition bearing chest rig, and last but not least, one R4238 fully component integrated, extreme combat battle-net linked protective helmet.

Now, that is just your basic combat load. Everyone will be issued two combat loads of ammunition and grenades, and to carry all that extra bang…I have gotten you this wonderful mottled green assault pack complete with water bladder and interior pockets specially designed for the mags and grenades that you are issued.

There are more arms and demo to be issued, but that is all issued at the squad level. We will take care of that when we get to Reach. Except for the sniper rifles and M247G-A Squad Automatic Weapons. Those will be issued at two each per squad." I looked at my chronometer, time enough to start issue, rotate squads out for chow, and meet the Colonel.

"Alright, this full list has already been downloaded onto your data pads, third and fourth squads, go to chow, first squad issue, second squad receive." The squads broke out and executed their assignments with me over watching. It took an hour and a half to get second issued their gear and to get that gear stowed in their personal crates and duffels; by that time third and fourth squads were back from chow. Third took over issuing for fourth, they would swap out when fourth was finished. Second and first squads and I went to chow.

While in the chow hall, I looked at my chronometer again; "Dave, take over the platoon. I have a meeting with Colonel Thorton in half an hour. Finish the issue, post second squad as first watch on the bay, get everyone else to their billets. First formation tomorrow will be 0600. We will start with full personal kit layout and inventory and then we start field stripping the weapons. At 1400 hrs tomorrow we go to the firing range two squads at a time.

"Roger that Jack." Dave replied. I got up and exited the chow hall, headed towards the nearest elevator and Deck 10 Section 10, UNSC UNICOM SPECWARCOM (UNIfied Ground COMmand, SPECial WARfare COMmand).

I arrived at the HQ within about 20 seconds and stepped off the elevator into the reception area of SPECWARCOM. Grey carpet, but carpet nonetheless, on a station where everything was battleship grey bare metal. Wood paneling covered the walls on which were paintings of battles waged on far off battlefields and as far back as the 1600's, replicas no doubt. There was a reception desk straight ahead of the elevator. I approached and identified myself to the Amy Staff Sergeant sitting behind it.

"Sergeant Storm, reporting as ordered for a meeting with Colonel Thorton at 2000 hrs."

"Ah, good evening Sergeant. I am Staff Sergeant Wilcox." She smiled, light pink tint on her thin lips, green eyes, brunette hair up in bun, off the collar as is regulation. She was wearing Class B's, obviously tailored to her quite nice frame. Runner or swimmer I would think. Quite an attractive woman, mid to late 20's I would guess. "Please have a seat; Colonel Thorton will be with you momentarily. Good thing for you that you have arrived a bit early."

"Why is that Sergeant?"

"Let's just say that the Colonel believes in being punctual."

"Very well, Sergeant. Thank you." She was trying to not be so obvious, but she was checking me out. I can't blame her, I am a pretty good looking guy if I do say so myself. I sat down and waited, checked my chronometer, 15 minutes early.

"Sergeant Storm, the Colonel will see you now, and if I may, be careful in there." She gave me another one of her warm-ish smiles, I was still junior to her in rank after all. Not too long a wait, a whole 30 seconds. The hair on the back of my neck was standing up again.

"Thanks for the advice, Sergeant."

I walked up to the door to the left of the reception desk. I slid open to reveal…another long hallway of doors. 'What the hell is it with the Navy and their long hallways of doors?' I thought to myself.

Sergeant Wilcox half giggled when she saw my hesitation. "Last door on the left, Sergeant. General Pollack's office."

"Thank you again, Sergeant Wilcox." I preceded down the hallway to the last door on the left, and yep, it belonged to a General. I stood at attention, knocked twice and waited…and waited…and waited.

"ENTER!" The voice came from inside. If someone could accurately judge someone from the sound of their voice at top volume coming from the other side of a closed door…this one would tell me that as the pretty Sergeant said….I should be careful. There was something in that voice, a quiet undertone of a deep, menacing wisdom…the kind that says 'I have spent more time crapping in a hole in the woods than you have been sucking down oxygen'. I twisted the knob and entered the General's office.

It was a nice office, moderate in size for a space station, one belonging to the Navy at that. Square in shape, maybe 30 square meters. Two sofas with two matching single chairs, coffee table, lamp in the corner. Towards the back was the General's desk, behind that a credenza with a lifetime of framed photos. All fellow service members, most of them had the General in them. There was one photo frame; however, on his desk, lying face down.

"Come in, Sergeant. At ease, have a seat. Coffee?"

"Thank you General, no, no coffee, sir, thank you for the offer." I moved to the sofa nearest the door back into the hallway. The General was sitting in one of the single matching chairs, he leaned over and pushed a button on an intercom panel that rested on aside table I couldn't see when I initially came in the room.

"Stephanie, please get Sergeant Storm a coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream."

The disconnected voice of Staff Sergeant Wilcox, Stephanie, answered back, "Right away General."

"So, Sergeant. How do you like things here on Diego Garcia? Are you getting everything that you require for your mission?"

"Everything is going well General. We have received all of our equipment requested from the armory. The rest of the platoon is conducting personal equipment issue as we speak, sir."

"Yes, that brings up two issues Sergeant. First, I got the list of equipment delivered to you. Quite extensive. Overkill don't you think? You are taking enough equipment to start a small war in the Outer Colonies."

"Well sir. Colonel Thorton briefed us on our mission and the conditions in the Tau Theta System and I have don't some research on my own over the last few hours. Tau Theta Prime has a Colonial Militia of 350 in strength, all light arms, the Battalion is commanded by a career Colonial Militia Lieutenant Colonel. They have neither air assets nor armor. UNSC Navy Reserve indicates that they do have a fifty year old Blockade Runner that makes regular patrols between Prime and Tau Theta Two. Tau Theta Two has no Colonial Militia, only a Provincial Police Force. According to Intel, sir, there could be a significant Insurrectionist presence in this system. With local forces not capable of providing too much back up for us, and if HIGHCOM thought they were capable, they would be going after the insurrectionists themselves. Therefore, General, I feel it prudent to take as much equipment as possible in order to extend not only our own capabilities, but those of the Militia, if necessary."

"Excellent answer, son. I really give a good gods damn that the Commander of NAVSPECWAR is pissed that you took damn near everything in the armory and the depot that wasn't bolted to his precious station. HIGHCOM authorized it that is all that matters."

"Yes, sir."

Just then Staff Sergeant Stephanie Wilcox entered with the coffee. Two cups on the tray, one for the General and one for me. What I found really curious was how he knew how I took my coffee. But then, right as I thought that, I must have let my guard slip and had a puzzled expression on my face.

Staff Sergeant Stephanie had given the General his cup and was leaning over to hand me mine, in such a way that the General could not see her face, she gave me a right sided grin and winked at me. She had put on fresh lip tint? Lip gloss? I know sure as hell it didn't qualify as "Lip Stick", at least not in my mind….I have three sisters…I should have paid more attention. The quite curvy Sgt. Stephanie in her fitted Class B's with skirt that terminated at the knee…and not the pants (I am sure they would look equally as good on her) exited the General's office.

"Don't look so puzzled, son. The Army knows everything about you. Even how you like your coffee. And yes, you let your guard slip a little, she does that to Admirals and politicians. She is as lethal as any special forces sniper, count on it."

"Yes, sir." I didn't feel embarrassed so much that I let my guard down as I did that I was naïve enough for half a second to think that every little detail about me was recorded somewhere in some database. "Sir, I beg your pardon, but where is Colonel Thorton, I thought I was meeting with him this evening."

"Yes, yes of course." The General leaned over and pushed a different button on the comm system. "Colonel, are you ready?"

"Yes sir, coming in now," again, another disconnected voice. One would think that with as many credits as these stations cost, they could at least put in a decent intercom.

The door to the General's office slid open and Colonel Thorton came in and quickly took the other single seat that matched the sofas. There was a steaming cup of coffee in one hand, a small black box in the other.

"Alright son, that brings us to the second issue. This Directive 31 business," the General let his voice trail off.

When he said 'Directive 31' I must have given a tell…a sign of what I was thinking. Damnit, I broke eye contact with the General and looked at the floor.

"It looks like having this authority disturbs you, Sergeant," General Pollack asked quite pointedly. Colonel Thorton put his cup down, leaned back, and put his right hand to his face, middle finger running under his nose, index up the side of his eye to his temple, thumb under his chin, he was assessing.

"General. It isn't that it bothers me having this authority. It is just that I understand what having this authority means. The responsibility that accompanies this authority, the absolute power contained within this Directive. It doesn't frighten me, Sir. It humbles me. It makes me conscientious of myself, my own morals and values."

General Pollack looked at Colonel Thorton, one of those looks asking if they were in agreement of the answer they had both already decided the question to. The General raised his eyebrows, the Colonel gave a half shrug.

"Alright, son. That sounds good enough to me. Remember, Directive 31 is not to be used as a blunt object, a cudgel. In the hands of the wrong person, it will turn everyone and everything against you, and there will be nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. Yet, in the hands of the right person, it is as exact as a surgeon's blade. People will accept what had to be done, and will probably even praise you for your courage to see your duty through and your commitment to the people you serve and protect with this power and authority. Understood?" With that the General and the Colonel stood.

I followed suit. "Yes sir, I understand completely."

At that General Pollack chuckled, "No you don't son," the General said with a grin, "Nobody does, until you are standing on the edge of that particular abyss."

At that statement, I looked dead in the General's eyes. Blue like mine, but tired, distant, yet with an underlying strength of wisdom that only men who have seen and done these things possess. I knew at that instant that the General did know exactly what he was talking about.

"Now, this brings us to the third issue," the General said matter of factly.

"Third issue, sir?"

"Sergeant Storm. You graduated top of your class in overall assessment. In the few short hours you have been on this station, you have accomplished what some of our Special Forces take three days to get done. The care in choosing the equipment you are taking shows that you have enough forethought to at least try to anticipate the unknowns that you may face out there; and we have been watching you since your arrival, the other members of your platoon have no issue taking orders from you, and in this short meeting you have impressed the heck out of me. I wish I had a whole battalion like you. Captain Sanborn is going to need a top notch platoon sergeant if your unit is going to accomplish its mission. Therefore, you are being promoted to Sergeant First Class; your new billet is as Platoon Sergeant, First Platoon, First Squadron, 2nd Armored Cavalry Expeditionary Unit."

"Sir? The General is aware that I am a Sergeant E-5?"

"Well yes, but the platoon needs a platoon sergeant and platoon sergeants are E-7s. Do you have a problem with that Sergeant Storm?" There was a tinge of annoyance in the General's tone, General's don't usually have their decisions questioned by NCOs.

I snapped to attention, "No sir, I have no problem with that whatsoever."

"Good." General Pollack once again called the very lovely Staff Sergeant Wilcox. "Stephanie, can you come back in here, oh…and bring the camera."

"Right away, General." Within twenty seconds Stephanie was standing in the General's office.

"Well let's get this done, shall we? Let's come over here by the flags. Colonel, the insignia please."

Colonel Thorton opened the small black box he brought in with him and called Staff Sergeant Wilcox over, she took the box and held it so both officers could take one of the insignia.

General Pollack was on my right, Colonel Thorton on my left, Staff Sergeant Stephanie directly in front of me. The two officers tore the sewn on rank off my collar and then each took a metal insignia out of the box and began pinning it on my collar.

"Colonel, am I not supposed to say something?" The General asked facetiously.

"Yes sir, something about trust and confidence in the abilities of our boy Jack here…"

"Oh yes yes, that is right. Sorry Jack my boy, I don't like to stand on ceremony all that much, but then again…"

"Neither do I, sir. But then again.."

"We already knew that…" the General finished my statement, he grined.

"Well here is something regardless. Sergeant Jack Storm. You have shown and demonstrated special skill in your area of expertise; dedication to the United Earth Government, the United Nations Space Command, the Department of the Army, the Cavalry, and your members of your unit; you have demonstrated honesty, integrity, and are forthright in your beliefs and convictions. As such, in recognition of your potential as a future Army leader, and out of necessity of mission. I Lieutenant General Franklin Pollack, Commander, UNSC Army SPECWARCOM, hereby promote you from the rank of Sergeant E-5, to Sergeant First Class E-7 on this, the 25th day of May, in the year 2523. May God have mercy on your soul."

Staff Sergeant Stephanie took two steps back and the General moved in front of me. I saluted my superior officer, he returned my salute and we shook hands.

We posed for pictures, The General and I shaking hands, the Colonel and I shaking hands, the very lovely Staff Sergeant Stephanie (now subordinate in rank…hehehehe) shaking hands, and then all would be downloaded to my data pad before I left the HQ this evening.

"Thank you sir, I won't let you down."

"Ha! Don't worry about letting me down son, I know you won't. Colonel, Staff Sergeant, will you please excuse the Sergeant First Class and I for a moment?"

"Of course, sir." They both quickly left, Sgt. Stephanie gave me one long, quick glare, Colonel Thorton another. Two completely different messages. A rather nice one, and the other…well not so nice. The door slid shut and the General and I were alone.

"Jack."

"General?"

"Sgt. Wilcox will transmit to your pad the requisition orders for the depots at Reach."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now, two more things and then I will let you go and get your people loaded into that Navy tin can. First. I am transmitting sealed and classified orders to your data pad. Transmit them to Captain Sanborn when you link up at Reach, oh additionally I am granting you a TS-SCI Level 6 security clearance for the duration of this mission, you might end up needing it." The General turned and walked behind his desk and sat down.

"The second, sir?"

"Remember what Lord Acton said, 'Absolute Power Corrupts Absolutely', hold on to that Jack, remember it. Dismissed."

I snapped to attention, saluted General Pollack, about faced and headed for the door. Right when I was about to activate the door control he spoke again. "Be careful who you trust out there, 'Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer'."

"Machiavelli, 'The Prince'" I responded. I paused for half a second, opened the door and walked out.

When I got to the reception area, Stephanie had already left. Too bad, seeing her once more before heading out "there" would have been quite agreeable.

I walked over to the elevator, the doors opened right as I got to them, Stephanie…she was leaning up against the back wall, ankles crossed, hands behind her butt holding the railing that ran around the inside of the elevator just below average waist level, regulation tie untied, top button…unbuttoned. She let her hair down out of the bun, light brown, wavey, it fell quite delicately on her shoulders.

I stepped inside the elevator with her. "I am sorry," I said. "My departure window has just been moved up by two days."

Instead of frowning or pretending disappointment she said, "Your departure window never was two days from now. If you had failed to adequately impress the General, your unit would have been scrubbed from this mission."

"What about the insurrection in the Tau Theta System?"

The doors slid shut, "Level 83, Port Docking Ring." Stephanie ordered the elevator. "If you had failed to impress the General, he was going to order the Tau Theta System to undergo nuclear bombardment. Complete sterilization. Four million people wiped out because the UNSC doesn't have the resources to deal with the insurrection problem there. It was deemed the only way to be sure."

I stood there in the elevator not six inches away from her, I could pick up wafts of cinnamon coming from her hair, there was a slight sheen on her chest, the part that was exposed buy the unbuttoned button, I stood there, digesting what she had just told me.

I looked into her deep green eyes, I found myself getting a little lost in them, everything got blurry for a second and then I snapped back to the here and now

The elevator stopped, the doors opened.

"This is my stop," she closed the distance between us, I felt her hand in mind. She kissed me on the right cheek, the scent of cinnamon was overwhelming now. She exited the elevator, turned around and looked dead into my soul.

"Do not fail them."

I stood up a little straighter, squared my shoulders, set my jaw. "I won't."

Constructive Criticism would be much appreciated as would be reviews.

Stay tuned for Chapter 4. Reach.

I know this chapter is a bit longer than the other two. Hope I don't lose your interest!