Chapter 4
The reports were troubling. But then again, they were always troubling. Serin was always predicting rising trouble among the Covenant, and each year her predictions seemed more fiction than fact. Linda sighed. She knew Serin was just doing her job as the Director of ONI. She just got tired of the glitter-and-doom prophecies.
"Think this year it will happen?" She asked Kelly.
"Hard to say," she replied. "Elites are strange. They play by their honor and not much else."
"So what would be the honorable thing to do when starting a revolution?"
"And therein lies the rub," Kelly sighed. "I feel sorry for Serin. Each year, she has to say the same old things. When the shit finally does happen, would the UNSC finally act?"
"As I have said before, speculative thinking would achieve nothing," Demeter said, appearing in the officer's lounge. "'The Boy Who Cried Wolf' is a strong analogy to the situation that Vice Admiral Serin is facing, but it would be best to leave that to the trained intelligence officer."
"Because us dumb grunts sure don't know anything," Kelly chuckled.
The door to the officer's lounge slid open and Fred and Mendez walked in.
"Kelly, Linda, I need your opinion on this," Fred said, handing the two data pads.
"What's this?" Linda asked, thumbing the screen to life.
"It's reports of Spartan 1.1s," Fred said.
"One-point-one?" Mendez said, grabbing Fred's own data pad. "ONI made another generation of Spartans?"
"If I may request a copy of the file?" Demeter asked.
"Sure thing," Fred replied. He pulled out a data chip from the pad before he gave it to Mendez, and slid the chip into the hologram projector base. Demeter's holographic form shimmered as she assimilated the data. "ONI didn't build them. They were naturally occurring. According to these reports, they are the offspring of surviving Orion members."
"What do you mean, 'naturally occurring?'" Mendez asked. "And why would ONI be keeping an eye on them?"
"The augmentation process you underwent in Orion altered your genetic code," Demeter said. "According to the report Fredric handed you, those genetic changes had a trickle-down effect for the offspring."
"Boosted intelligence, strength, agility and reflexes," Linda read. "Improved immune system and healing rates. This is starting to sound familiar."
"Who gave you these reports?" Kelly asked.
"Serin did," Fred replied. "I asked her to look into ways we could get more trainees who fall within Dr. Halsey's genetic parameters. This was something she found. Actually, this was the only thing she found. There's not much material on the subject."
"If you don't mind me asking," Linda said, "why would Serin help you? I thought she didn't care for Dr. Halsey."
"She was very cooperative when I told her that we were trying to save trainee's lives. She heard about the augmentation process."
"I am amazed that she is still on friendly terms with you," Demeter said. "I would have assumed that she would bear at least a small amount of resentment towards you, misplaced after her washing out, of course."
"I don't know, it seems understandable," Mendez said, handing the data pad back. "But these 1.1s are too old to be recruited. Hell, they have kids who are older than our recruitment age, and I don't think that trickle-down effect would give them much of a boost."
"No, it won't," Fred said. "At least, not that ONI would care to document. But there was one thing that caught my eye."
"What's that?" Linda said, biting the bait.
"All of the Spartan 1.1s fall within the top ten-percent of Halsey's parameters."
Linda, Kelly and Fred traded looks. Demeter shimmered as she tried to extrapolate Fred's hidden meaning. Linda skimmed the report's abstract again, seeing if she could find some piece of data she missed. Finding none, she looked back up at Fred.
"What are you planning?" Mendez asked, voice starting to lower to a growl. Linda could see his hairs starting to stand on end. He knew what they were thinking.
"It's a win-win situation, sir," Fred said. "ONI doesn't have to kidnap children, or even twist their arms or their parent's arms to get them to volunteer."
"You cannot be serious," Mendez said.
"The augmentation process was a great success, if only for the trainees who were within Dr. Halsey's parameters. They only had a seven percent wash-out rate, and even then, they didn't die from the process."
"No, you are not."
"No more soldiers have to die from the augmentation process. No more children would be kidnapped."
"You mean to use your altered genetics to create the ideal Spartan candidate," Demeter said.
"So is that your solution to the augmentation process? To genetically create your own child soldiers?!"
Fred looked puzzled as he faced Mendez.
"I figured that ONI would be more willing for this as opposed to kidnapping children and conscripting them."
"Oh, and growing your own children in test tubes is any better?"
"If you want to split hairs, neither option is giving them a choice," Linda pointed out.
"'Split hairs?'" Mendez sputtered.
"That phrase might not be suitable for the situation, Linda," Demeter said.
"It makes sense," Kelly said. "We create our own soldiers, already born into Halsey's parameters. None will die when they undergo the augmentation process, and ONI gets their Spartans."
"So the end justifies the means?" Mendez demanded. "This is fucking inhuman!"
"Chief, if I may, way are you so opposed to this?" Linda asked. Mendez stared at her. "We have a job to do. Our orders dictate that we are responsible for the creation and training of new Spartan groups. I believe we've just found a better way to create these groups."
"You seriously don't see anything that's wrong with this?" Mendez said. "You're playing god. Creating children just for the purpose of becoming soldiers?"
"This is a subject of great moral ambiguity," Demeter said, holding her chin in thought. "One that would be looked down upon, for sure." She quickly shut her mouth, a sign that she wanted to talk, but didn't let herself.
"Is that any worse than our training?" Linda asked.
"Linda has a valid point," the AI admitted before shutting her mouth again.
Mendez went bright red with anger. If looks could kill, Linda was sure his could cut through the hull of the Infinity. For almost a minute, he glared at them.
"And how would you go about creating these children?" He said through clenched teeth.
"We would take sperm and egg donations," Fred said. "It will have to be in vitro fertilization, as our augmentation has greatly suppressed our sex drives."
"You've figured this all out, haven't you?" Mendez hissed.
"Fredric's plan is logical," Demeter said, breaking down. She spoke fast, almost slurring her words. "With the advances in in vitro fertilization, successful implantation is almost certainly guaranteed. And even assuming the absolute worst, ninety-nine percent of the trainees would survive, barring unforeseen accidental deaths, of course."
"Demeter, shut up!" Mendez roared. "Look at yourself, Fred. I've trained you better than this. Creating your own soldiers? Using your own children? What have you been thinking?"
"Sir, respectfully, you taught us to do things the most efficient way," Fred said, returning Mendez's glare. "And yes, I'll use my own children. I've been using my own children, and I lost half of my children not just four months ago. If I can find a way to save the next group of my children, you bet your ass I will do it. And given your actions in the past, I don't think you qualify as the kind of person to tell me what's moral or not."
The two glared at each other, vying for dominance. But Linda could see Mendez deflating. He had no right to tell them what was wrong or right; he was the one who trained the original child soldiers.
"No one is going to like this," Mendez finally muttered. "Not ONI, not the UNSC, nobody."
"We've been operating out of the public's eye since we were shipped in to boot," Kelly said. "I don't think this will be much different."
Mendez snorted as he stormed out of the room.
Fred worked the speed bag as fast as he could, but he knew he could have gone faster. He kept his breathing under control as he pushed himself faster and faster.
"Fredric, I am detecting a slight drop off in your performance," Demeter said. For the umpteenth time, Fred regretted having the AI monitor his private workout sessions.
"I know," he grunted, giving the bag one last heavy punch. He was getting old, dammit, and he didn't like it.
I'll have to ask Mendez for some pointers, he thought as he grabbed is water bottle.
"What's the damage?"
"Your speed has dropped by twelve percent," Demeter replied. "Your strength has dropped by fifteen."
"Just great." Fred never would have imagined he would have to worry about getting old. Never in his life.
"I wouldn't worry, Fredric. Your current performance is that of a man half your age."
"That doesn't really make me feel better, Demeter," Fred said.
Demeter's holographic body shimmered into existence.
"Why not?" She asked with rapt attention.
Fred frowned slightly. How would he explain this to an AI, to a computer?
"I'm a Spartan," he finally said. "I'm supposed to be stronger and faster than normal humans. I'm supposed to be at my best at all times."
"So you believe that your slight performance drop is linked with doing your duty to the UNSC," Demeter asked.
"Well, yes," he said. "If I can't fight, I can't be a soldier. And I didn't train to be much else."
"Chief Mendez has been growing old for quite some time now, and he seems to be happy with his level of physical fitness."
"Mendez is different."
"I'm afraid I don't understand."
"Technically he's an Orion, not a Spartan. He's a first generation super soldier, but he's not like us. He wasn't raised in the military, like us."
"Ah, now you're bringing service and upbringing into the equation." Demeter gave a rare coy smile. "If he was not raised to your expected level of military experience, then why do you get along so well with him?"
"Because he trained us," Fred replied. "He's the closest thing to a father we have."
"Interesting. I thought I had you figured out, Fredric."
Fred was about to ask her not to use his full name, again, when her head suddenly cocked to the side.
"I'm receiving an incoming transmission from Ms. Serin," Demeter said. "She's requesting to talk to you. It's urgent."
"How urgent?" Fred asked, wanting to wash his sweat off.
"Very."
Fred sighed. "Very well. Link me in."
Demeter vanished into the air, replaced with a holographic screen. Serin was sitting at her desk at ONI headquarters, tapping nervously on the desk. Her hair had seemed to start to gray. Fred self-consciously rubbed his.
"Fred, what in the hell are you doing?" She snapped.
"I'm sorry, ma'am, but I'm going to need some context."
"Don't you 'ma'am' me," Serin hissed. "I'm calling you as a friend, and as a former Spartan. This isn't the rank checking up on you, making sure you didn't scrape your knees on the sidewalk."
"I understand," Fred said. "But I'm still confused as to what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about your proposal for ONI on the next generation of Spartans," Serin said. "What the hell were you thinking, creating genetically engineered children to turn into soldiers?"
"We're not genetically engineering them, we're using the trickle-down effect the augmentation had on us," Fred said.
"That's splitting fucking hairs and you know it. You want to grow your own damn army of Spartans in test tubes."
"'My own damn army?' I'm not doing this for my own personal gain, this is for the UNSC and humanity."
"I know that, but no one else does," Serin said. "They're thinking you've finally lost it. ONI thinks you want to set yourself up as some kind of demigod and start your own insurrection right here in Sol system."
Fred stared at the screen in shock. Him? A traitor, and worse, the leader of a rebellion?
"…What?"
"Yea, that's the kind of shit you're in."
"Serin, that's not me. That's not any of us. I came up with the idea so that we could stop using kidnapped children."
"By making your own genetically perfect ones?"
"Genetic engineering was never part of the plan, only the trickle-down effect."
"Doesn't matter, everyone else sees it that way, and they're all shitting because of it."
Fred opened and closed his mouth, stunned at what he was hearing.
"You know what they're going to do?" Serin continued.
"What?"
"They're going to send in the IVs to get you," Serin said. "They're going to kill anyone who resists, and drag you back to Earth. There, you'll be put on a one-sided trial, take all the blame for kidnapping children for the Spartan-III and V programs, and be put to death. Or, if you're goddamn lucky, they'll shut you in a hole under Antarctica for the rest of your life."
"Pin the Spartan-III program on me? I didn't even know about the III program until after Reach fell. Hell, even a year after that."
"It doesn't matter, ONI doesn't want to be caught dead being linked to that," Serin said, leaning back in her chair. "They'll do whatever they have to in order to pin it on you. And you know ONI place hardball."
"You'd order that?"
"This is so far beyond me, it's not even funny. Admiral Hood himself is putting the order out."
It was more than Fred could take. Him? Turn traitor?
"Why did you call me, Serin?"
"I'm calling you to tell you that you've got one week," she said. "One week until the Spartan IVs knocks on the doors of the Infinity. And I don't care what you think of them or their status as super soldiers, they're over five hundred of them now, and they will win."
"What do you suggest we do?"
"Turn yourselves in, now," Serin said. "Maybe you'll be able to make some kind of deal with ONI. Publicly take the blame for the III and V program, and maybe they'll turn you into some kind of Covenant kill team leader, send you off on some suicide missions. You and everyone else associated with the program, that's Kelly, Linda, Mendez, and the IIIs, Lucy, Tom and Ash."
"What about you? Won't they want to throw you in with us?"
"Got that right. The power-hungry sociopaths are already trying to tear me out of my throne, calling me guilty by association."
"By association? We haven't spoken in years, not even through messages."
"There's an old saying: 'don't let the facts get in the way of the truth.'"
"Nothing in that is truthful."
"Doesn't matter. As long as enough people believe it, it'll become the truth."
Fred paced in the workout room, his mind spinning.
"Turn yourself in. The sooner, the better."
"And what about you?"
"Don't worry about me," Serin said. "I'm the heir to the ONI throne. Parangosky, rest her soul, left me plenty of dirty secrets to help keep my position, even in this shit storm. I've even added a few to the pile myself. They won't leverage me out of this desk, never in a million years."
"And you're making sure this conversation can't be traced back to you?"
"Please."
"That's good. And Serin?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
He could have sworn to see Serin sadly smile as she turned off the video chat. In the absence of the holographic display, Demeter returned.
"What do you want me to do?" She asked.
Fred paced again, then again.
"Call everyone," he finally said. "Kelly, Linda, Mendez, everyone but the trainees. We have to talk this over."
Humans were so brilliantly complex. Demeter may have been working with them, for them, for her entire operational life, but she was sure that she would never truly understand them. Her plan on a massive dissertation seemed so impossible, it made her giddy to try and write it. She watched them from the cameras in the officer's lounge as they listened to Fredric explain the situation with them.
Everyone had a different reaction. Ash and Lucy were the hardest to read. Demeter suspected that it was because of Ash's anti-aggression medication and Lucy's past history with mental trauma. Thomas, however, was livid. He had an accelerated heart rate, his pupils were pinpoints, and muscles were tense; classical identification of rage.
One thing she did expect was that the rest of the Spartans, Mendez included, were the most well-kept. Linda was especially good at keeping her cool, while Kelly simply seemed resigned to her fate. Demeter was trying to figure out if Mendez wanted to say 'told you so' to the Spartans, or if he was making his peace with his fate.
"This is bullshit," Thomas hissed.
"That's the truth," Fredric said. "Serin gave us one week's warning."
"I knew ONI wouldn't like this, but I never would have imagined they would react like this," Mendez said.
"Calling a scorched earth policy on their own people? None of us could have seen that," Linda said.
"Do we do?" Lucy asked.
"The only thing we can do," Fredric said. "We turn ourselves in, make some kind of plea bargain with ONI."
"And get conscripted into a suicide mission or three?" Kelly said.
"At least we'll still get to serve."
"This is bullshit!" Thomas said. "Let them walk all over us and close down our program, just because they want a fall guy?"
"What are you saying," Ash said. "That we don't turn ourselves in, resist arrest?"
"No!" Thomas glared at Ash. "We run."
Suddenly it got very quiet in the officer's lounge. Demeter made sure that she was recording everything. She didn't want to miss this for the world.
"You watch your mouth, soldier," Fredric ordered. "We do not abandon our post."
"Even when that post doesn't need us anymore?"
The two glared at each other. Demeter was sure that this was how alpha males fought without physical violence. The two were obviously vying for dominance and control of the pack.
"Do you remember why you became a Spartan, Tom?" Fredric asked. "It was to protect the UNSC and her colonies from themselves and the Covenant. We pledged not to become her enemy, which is what you're suggesting right now."
"The hell I am," Thomas shot back, taking a step closer to Fredric. Lucy was instantly stepping between them, assuming her roles of the omega, trying to placate both feuding men. "I'm saying we leave."
"Leave? Leave ONI for what, the UNSC armed forces? They would never take us in once ONI paints us as demons."
"I never said that, I said we should just leave."
"What are you saying?"
"Just leave, and protect the UNSC our own way."
Fredric was shocked. Eyes wide open, pupils fully dilated, mouth almost slack open, full-on shock. Most of the Spartan-IIs were. Mendez and Lucy, however, seemed to have arrived at Thomas' conclusion. Only Ash seemed most unaffected, but again, probably because of his medication. Most curious. Was the dosage too strong?
"You want us to become pirates?" Fredric finally said. "Have you gone mad? We're soldiers, not raiders."
Demeter couldn't hold herself back anymore.
"I believe Thomas wants the Spartans to become more like a private security group," she said, breaking the conversation. "One outside of UNSC jurisdiction."
Hopefully she wouldn't interfere too much with the group dynamic; she simply couldn't retrain herself.
"That's exactly it," Thomas said. "Us, defending the UNSC how we see fit, not how a group of old admirals plot it."
"That's ridiculous," he said. "No one would want our help, not after ONI paints us as kidnappers and warlords."
"That's why we'll give them our help whether they like it or not."
"I won't allow it," Fredric said. "Never."
Thomas looked at Ash and Lucy for support. They didn't stand up to Fredric.
"And why not?" Demeter was surprised to see Mendez speak up. "You'll get to serve, and train your Spartans. The best of both worlds."
"We'll be going against the will of the UNSC," Fredric sputtered.
"Yes, but we've been doing that since I trained you," Mendez calmly replied. "It isn't their policy to train child soldiers, but we did it. It wasn't their policy to push teenagers through puberty with unstable chemicals, not to mention the deadly augmentation process, but we did it."
Demeter was almost laughing with joy. Fredric would never give up his beliefs, and yet here he was, almost contemplating it. Humans were just a thrill to watch.
Fredric turned to Kelly. She apologetically nodded.
"We'll have to vote on this," Fredric snapped. "I may be the ranking officer, but I will not make my troops suffer under my decision. I'll talk to the Vs, and get their input."
"A good thing for a leader, but I believe we already know the answer," Mendez said. "They want to serve just as much as you do."
"We'll see," Fredric said. "Our action will depend on their votes."
Demeter was already calculating the probability of each Spartan's individual answer when Fredric summoned the Spartan-Vs. If she had a body, she would be shaking with joy. Oh, how she loved humans and their petty politics.
"UNSC Ort, this is Cargo Ship Tangent, we have a package to drop off," Stevens said.
"Roger that, Tangent, we have you on sensors. Initiate docking procedures."
"Ten-four, systems are linking. See you in a few minutes."
"Not too bad, Pyro," Mike chuckled from behind him. Stevens hated Mike, especially for his nickname. Every time he called him 'Pyro,' his side ached.
"Hey, Mike, why don't you take a step outside and see what the temperature's like," Stevens growled, unclipping himself form the helmsman's chair. "Be sure to breath real deep."
"It's all in good fun, man," Mike grinned his shit-eating grin.
"Fuck your fun." Stevens floated to the rotating cargo hold, followed by Mike. Why did he have to get stuck with this asshole? He wasn't getting paid enough to put up with him.
"You know, most ex-marines I talk to are only too happy to show off their old war wounds," Mike said as they got accustomed to the gravity.
"I've told you a thousand goddamn times, plasma fucking hurts."
The ship shuddered as they connected with the small UNSC ship. Stevens looked over the Joton crop combines. None had been disturbed from the coupling.
"Come on, just tell me the story."
"If you wanted your own damn stories, you should've joined up instead of sucking on your momma's saggy tits."
"Don't bring my momma into this," Mike pouted.
Stevens keyed the airlock, and the doors started to slide down.
"What do you think the UNSC wants with these, anyways?" Mike asked.
"Do you get paid to ask?" Stevens replied.
"You aren't the least bit curious?"
"Rule one of the military: you got stripes, you don't ask."
"What do you mean?"
"What he means is that if you're an enlisted man, you don't get told anything," a woman said as the door slid all the way down. She was a big girl, maybe even bigger than Stevens. And she was pretty, with picture perfect hair and skin. Two men and another woman stood behind her, all standing 'at ease.' Pretty as she was, Stevens knew that she could break him in half without even blinking.
"Are you the buyers?" Mike stupidly asked.
"We're here to take the cargo, yes," the woman said.
"Damn, what's the military feeding you?" Mike said.
Stevens knew that woman. Not her face, not even her name if she ever told him, but he knew the stance, how she held herself, and he knew her size.
"Is the cargo ready to be transferred?" The woman asked.
Mike looked over his copy of the sales sheet.
"You're the Navy person?"
"That's right."
"No way Navy guys are that big," he insisted.
"That's because she's a Spartan," Stevens said. The woman and her friends all turned their gaze on him. Suddenly, Stevens knew he said something he wasn't supposed to.
"Whoa, you mean a Spartan, Spartan?" Mike gasped.
"Is there any other?" Stevens replied, meeting the woman's stare.
"How did you know?" She asked.
"I fought with the Master Chief in New Mombasa."
Mike's eyes threatened to pop out of his skull. Even the Spartans seemed impressed.
"You fought with the Chief?" The woman asked.
"Fought with him? I took a plasma round for the son of a bitch." Stevens lifted up his shirt, showing his burnt side.
"And you're still in one piece? You really lucked out."
"Not really. Fused a few nerves, I need to take painkillers for them sometimes."
The woman walked over to him. Now that she was closer, Stevens could see that she was young. Really young. So young that he was surprised that the UNSC let her sign up, let alone as a Spartan.
"It's an honor to meet a veteran, especially one who fought with the Chief," she said, offering a hand.
"It's nice to meet another Spartan," Stevens said, shaking it. It felt like squeezing a brick. "Now where do you need these?"
"Just load them on. We'll take care of the rest," she said.
"Sure thing," Mike said. He keyed his data pad, and three fork lift bots drove up and began unloading the Jotons. "If you don't mind, what are you using these for?"
"That's need-to-know information," the Spartan replied.
"Fucking typical Navy," Stevens spat.
"Don't worry, we don't need to know either," she said, half grinning.
"Like I said, fucking typical Navy."
"Got that right," she laughed.
Captain Del Rio examined the holographic table. Xen, the ship's leading smart AI, had plotted out their change in course to perfection.
"This is good work, Xen," Del Rio said. "What's our ETA until Earth?"
"Once we begin engine burns, five days," Xen said, her avatar appearing on the table. Her particular avatar was a simple 2D box with circuitry wires spinning off of her and disappearing into the air.
"And when are we meeting with our special guests?"
"They are seven hours out."
"Good." Del Rio hated getting involved in ONI feuds, but his orders were orders. Somehow the Spartans on board pissed off the powers-that-be, and they were going to reap the whirlwind. "Notify me when they're about to board."
"Understood, sir. For the record, ONI Intel suggests that the Spartan-Vs and their trainers might have hostile reactions. They are suggesting that you and your crew prepare for the worst."
"Got it." Del Rio turned to the crew on the bridge. "Everyone heard that? Pass the word along to get our marines ready, but keep it off the comms. I don't want our passengers getting wind of this."
"Understood, sir." His crew nodded, and a few of the junior officers left to inform their standing defense marines. Del Rio turned to the captain's chair and sat down, picking up his data pad to look over the projections of the actions. He was two paragraphs in when he felt the slightest tremble. He looked up. The crew had felt it as well, and were looking around to see what had gone wrong.
"Xen?" The AI appeared, her avatar turning from blue to a light green. "What happened?"
"Strange feedback from the engines, sir," she said. "I'm correcting it now."
"By 'strange feedback,' what do you mean?"
"Avoiding technical jargon as best I can, the engines shuddered."
"I could feel that. What went wrong?"
"There was an anomaly from the control center. I'm currently investigating it."
"Open a channel to our patrol ships. Ask them if they detected any energy spikes."
"Sending messages," the AI said. She slowly began turning to a solid green. "Four of our escort ship AIs have reported sensing a gravitational energy spike. Our conclusions indicate it is an error with the Forerunner tech."
"Can you fix it?"
"Implementing the software patch now." Xen began turning back to blue, then another shudder ran through the ship, and she turned to a yellow-green. "The patch didn't take."
"What do you mean, the patch didn't take?" Del Rio demanded. The crew traded looks of unease.
"The Infinity was built from the ground up with every available piece of Forerunner tech the UNSC has recovered. Much of the tech was barely understood upon its instillation; scientists have only recently made the Infinity self-sufficient. The patch was my first guess at how to fix such technology."
"So you're saying the work isn't quite working," Del Rio said sarcastically.
"That would be the understanding."
"Well, what's the affect it's having?"
"The engines are increasing in power. If they continue to increase in power output, they will red line in two hours."
Del Rio sighed.
"Not the best news, but at least we have two hours. I take it you've ordered the scientists to the engine room?"
"That's right," Xen said. "They will arrive in fifteen minutes."
"Ship just had to be three damn kilometers long," he muttered.
Another shudder ran through the ship. Xen began turning a yellow-orange.
"Status."
"Engine output just jumped. Red in forty-five minutes."
"Jesus Christ, what happened?"
"The engine controls, which are Forerunner based, are going out of control."
"What's the cause, dammit?"
"Unknown."
Del Rio quietly hissed. The UNSC just had to build this damn thing as fast as possible, cut as many corners as they could.
"Power down the engines."
"I've tried that, sir. It was not effective."
"What if we vent the engine rooms? Would that buy us time?"
"Yes sir, but it would take seven minutes to evacuate the appropriate area."
"Do it. It's best to overreact now than risk a meltdown."
"Sounding alarms."
"Engines, what's the status?"
"Xen is right, sir," the bridge officer replied. "The engines' output is growing exponentially."
"Sir, we've lost control over the engines," Xen announced, turning to a light red.
"What? How did that happen?" Del Rio demanded.
"The control system shut us out."
"More Forerunner tech going berserk?"
"It would appear so. Engines will redline in twenty minutes."
"Sir, if the engines redline, we risk a catastrophic explosion," the bridge officer said.
"What will the damage be?" Del Rio asked, even though he already knew.
"Aside from the complete destruction of the Infinity, conservative estimates say that everything within half a million miles will be vaporized."
"Jesus fucking wept."
"The Infinity is carrying radically advanced technology, sir. The engines are particularly potent."
Del Rio's mind was racing. It was his duty to protect this ship at all cost; it was the most expensive piece of equipment to ever be created, truly one of a kind. But it was his duty as a Captain of the UNSC Navy to protect everyone under his command.
"Sound the alarm, we're abandoning ship," he said.
"Sir?" Xen asked.
"Ask the scientists to stay. We'll work on getting this thing under control while everyone else evacuates to a safe distance. That includes our escort ships."
"Understood, sir," the AI said. "Sounding alarm and contacting the scientists."
"Everyone, get to the escape pods," Del Rio said, standing up. "I don't want any good men dying here today."
The crew looked at him. Some left.
"Sir, with all due respect," the engineer specialist said, "flying this ship is not possible for one man. I'm volunteering to stay."
Del Rio nodded.
"If anyone else wishes to join their companions in the escape pods, you will not be thought less of. In fact, I encourage it. Please, go."
A few more officers left, leaving only a skeleton crew.
"Sir, I'm receiving word from Lieutenant Fredric," Xen said. "He wishes to talk to you."
"Patch him through."
"Captain Del Rio, I understand that there is a situation aboard the Infinity," Fred said.
"That's right, Lieutenant. Xen is predicting a catastrophic failure within twenty minutes."
"My Spartans stand ready to help."
"With all due respect, Lieutenant, there's not much for you to do."
"We just wish to serve, Captain. I'll send a team up to help man the bridge so your officers get a chance to escape."
"Are they rated to pilot a UNSC vessel?"
"Yes sir, that's one of the support roles they trained for."
"We'll take all the help we can get."
"Understood. They should arrive there in less than ten minutes."
"We'll be cutting it close."
"Cutting it close is in our job description. Lieutenant Fredric out."
"The Spartans have left their quarters," Xen announced.
"Then let's make sure they came all this way for nothing. How is the evacuation of the engines going?"
"The lifeboat is launching now. Venting atmosphere. We now have several additional minutes."
"Good work. And the rest of the ship?"
"Evacuations are sixty percent complete."
"Good. Open a channel to the Central America."
The holographic table lit up as the comm channel opened.
"Captain Haal, this is Del Rio of the Infinity," he said. "I take it you've gotten word on our current situation?"
"Yes I have, Captain," Haal replied.
"Good. Can I ask a favor of you?"
"Anything."
"Please pick up the lifeboats. Some of them might not clear out of the blast radius."
"Consider it done, Captain."
"Thank you."
"Good luck."
"We can all use a bit of luck," Del Rio said, closing the channel. "Xen? What the status."
"Red line in eighteen minutes. The scientists have arrived at engineering."
"Good. Tell them they'd better work—"
"Hold," the AI said, cutting him off. "They are moving from engineering. They appear to be entering an escape pod."
"Open a channel to them."
"I have tried. I am being blocked."
"What?"
"The cameras in the area are also being blocked. I am tracking them via their data pad's movements."
"What the hell is going on down there? Are things that bad?"
"Unknown. I have dedicated a minimal amount of processing power to it; the engines are my focus."
"I want eyes down there, Xen. Use as much processing power you can without shooting us in the foot."
"Understood."
The door to the bridge slid open. Del Rio turned to see a full squad of armored Spartans walk in.
"Thank God you got here," he breathed. "Do you have a team in engineering? There's a situation there."
"We're taking care of it, sir," the lead Spartan replied.
"Good. Take up positions at engineering and helms. I want to steer us away from the escort fleet before we blow up."
"Sir, we're going to have to ask you to leave."
Del Rio looked over. He noticed that the Spartans were carrying arms. A pistol was at each of their sides, while some carried rifles and others shotguns.
"What is the meaning of this? Why did you bring arms onto the bridge?"
"You need to leave."
"So you can go down with the ship?"
The lead Spartan walked up to Del Rio. On an unheard command, the others walked over to the remaining officers.
"You need to leave."
"Stand down, Spartan, that's an order."
"No, sir, we won't."
The bridge grew dead quiet as the Spartan loomed over Del Rio. He could feel the eyes of his crew on him.
"This wasn't an accident, was it?" He asked.
"No sir, it wasn't."
"How did you get the engines to redline?"
"We have our own Smart AI, sir. And many dumb ones."
Del Rio glared at the Spartan.
"You're going rogue, aren't you?"
The Spartan didn't reply, but Del Rio could see him bristle.
"You need to leave. Now."
"Fine," Del Rio said, getting out of the captain's chair. He turned to his crew, who were staring at him. "We can't fight Spartans, not like this."
"We'll escort you to the escape pods," the Spartan said. "And take the AI."
Del Rio walked to the holographic table and pulled Xen's memory card out. A small team of Spartans lead him and his crew off the ship.
The remaining Spartans assumed positions at the bridge.
"Sir? We have the bridge. Giving Demeter control of the Infinity," the Spartan said, typing commands on the captain's chair. "We're ready to move out."
With the last of the escape pods jettisoned, the Infinity moved away from small fleet of ships surrounding it. It moved out past the orbit of Pluto, and began charging it's Slipspace capacitors. Before any of the ships knew what was happening, it jumped out of system.
"This is Lieutenant Fredric, Spartan one-zero-four, UNSC Naval Special Warfare. As of 13:47 Central Earth Standard Time, me and the soldiers under my command, including the members of the Spartan-V program, have captured the UNSC Infinity.
"We knowingly commit this act of war and high treason not to protect ourselves, but to protect the UNSC. We had planned on great changes to the Spartan-VI program, but our actions in creating the personnel necessary for the program was met with widespread shock and disapproval from the Office of Naval Intelligence, prompting them to shut down the Spartan-V Commando program and purge its members.
"We have seized control of the Infinity, and will take it out of UNSC controlled space, not to turn traitor, not to ally ourselves with possible Insurgence groups or even the Covenant, but to protect the UNSC from her enemies. During the Human-Covenant War, the Spartan-II program was integral to the survival of the UNSC, and we want to continue to protect her, even if she does not willingly want us. We will patrol the borders of the UNSC, providing help and support to her colonies in time of need.
"We will be called many things, but let it be known that we are patriots, and are willing to fight, kill and die for the United Nations Space Command."
"Vice Admiral Osman, I don't believe you know the gravity of the situation," Admiral Anderson said.
Serin knew he liked having affairs with barely legal girls, even though he was a grandfather. One particular affair resulted in a pregnancy, and the bastard was carried out instead of aborted. Serin had been keeping tabs on him, and he showed great promise to be an ONI agent, possibly her protégé.
"No one understands the situation quite like I do," Serin said, facing the Admiral Board. "The Spartans have gone rogue, seized the Infinity, and I'm one of the last remaining Spartan-IIs in the UNSC. You want me to answer to the crime."
"We know you've had contact with Lieutenant Fredrick," Sarah Rabi said. She knew her son had a thing for necrophilia; the fresher the corpses, the better. Ms. Rabi had gone out of her way to keep her son's disturbing habit a secret, but didn't go far enough. She looked at Serin, but quickly looked away. "You've obviously told him to run from the UNSC."
"Do you have recordings of that conversation? Transcripts?" Serin asked. The room grew quiet for the briefest of seconds.
"Do you, or do you not, admit to having contacted Fredric one week before the theft of the Infinity?" Rabi pressed.
"I did contacted him. And do you know what I said? I told him to turn himself in. Do you wish to hear the recording I personally took of our conversation?"
"No, Osman, that's quite alright," Zeshan Biswas said. He was running a pyramid scheme, one that had yet to break. "Given your past history with ONI, we are willing to take your word for it."
"You just mean to say that I'm doing a good job destabilizing the Covenant," Serin said flatly.
"That's not the purpose of this court hearing," Admiral Zanesh said. He owned a series of high class brothels and drug trafficking rings on almost all UNSC colonies. "The purpose of this hearing was to put you on trial for allowing Lieutenant Fredric and his Spartan project to go rogue."
Serin suppressed a grin. For an intelligence agent, she was remarkably uninformed on the capture of the Infinity, which she took with good humor. She only learned of Fred's actions seven hours before the trial was scheduled to be started. She had to admit, though, that ONI did a great job keeping the event hidden from the public. The Infinity had only been stolen ten hours prior, and they already put together a trial.
The fact that she didn't hear about the theft also spoke leagues about Fred. He was able to plan an incredibly risky op, and kept it hidden from everyone. She felt an old surge of pride for him.
"I opened my files to you to examine for yourself; I had no prior knowledge of Lieutenant Fredric's actions."
"I find it hard to believe that the director of ONI is uninformed," Admiral Moore said. In his youth, he had killed a girl. A pure crime of passion, but he had gone through incredible lengths to ensure that she was never found. Good thing, too, because as the chair of the Human Augmentation Morals Committee, he was expected to have a flawless record from the moment he was born.
"'Small leaks sink great ships,' Admiral," Serin said. "Fred minimized his leaks, and as a result, his plan was not sunk."
"You're saying that he kept this a secret from everyone, for one week, on the most monitored ship in the UNSC fleet?" Moore asked.
"I never said it would have been easy."
Admiral Moore snorted.
"Ms. Osman, you have had several hours to look over every fact we could gather on the theft," Admiral Smithe said. She had slept with numerous younger boys, one of which was her cousin's son. "Can you tell us where they might be going, or how long they can operate without support?"
"I believe you already know the answer to the first question," Serin said, fiddling with her data pad. "We have a vector of the Infinity's Slipspace jump, but we cannot hope to know how long they will travel for. They could change directions every parsec, or they could still be traveling in a straight line. We have no way to accurately predict where they are headed. They are lost to us, and I doubt we will be able to find them.
"As for their operations, it would be a good estimate to say that they can operate without UNSC support indefinitely. As you are all aware, the Infinity was originally designed to be humanity's home should the Covenant find Earth and glass it. Because of that, it was stocked to the gills with supplies, from food to medical supplies to construction equipment. The repurposing of the Infinity to serve as the Spartan's headquarters and training ground did not lead the UNSC to removing its survival capabilities.
"Also, it came to my attention that the Spartans have acquired numerous agricultural machines, such as Joton crop combines, farm animals, as well as a plethora of extremely specialized manufacturing equipment. This would lead me to believe that they plan to set up a base of operations where they can not only train the next generation of Spartans, but to also manufacture their needed equipment, such as Mjolnir armor. It's also worth noting that eight Prowler class vessels were docked with the Infinity, giving the Spartans stealth capabilities, as well."
The Admirals muttered their disproval. A few whispered to each other.
"And you claim you did not have any knowledge of this plot?" Chris Robinson asked. He operated dog fighting rings on multiple colonies.
"That is correct. Neither did Naomi, the other remaining Spartan-II in the UNSC."
"Where is she?"
"She's currently operating with Kilo-Seven."
"And this Kilo-Seven is…?"
"Highly classified, I'm afraid," Serin said. "Talking about it would compromise the agents in the field. All I can tell you is that she is light years away from the nearest UNSC instillation and has had no contact with them for quite some time, nor will she until her mission is completed, which could take weeks."
"We will have to discuss this matter," Robinson said. "Thank you for your cooperation, Vice Admiral Osman."
"You are welcome," Serin said, standing. "Oh, by the way, where is Admiral Gilden? I noticed that she wasn't here."
A few of the Admirals shifted uncomfortably. Admiral Gilden, like Smithe, abused children, physically and sexually. Serin leaked all of her secrets to UNSC high command as well as the press, and Gilden was quickly arrested.
"She…is currently indisposed," Admiral Rabi said.
"Such a shame that something happened to her," Serin said.
"Yes, a real shame."
"Well, if you need me, Admirals, I shall be in my office." Serin turned to leave, not waiting for permission to leave the hearing.