/UNSC ENCRYPTED CHANNEL/
/AUTHORIZATION REQUESTED/
/CNI UPLINK… BTLN CMDR/
/ACCESS GRANTED… LINKUP STARTED CLARION SIX-EPSILON/
"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I fear no evil, for I am loaded out with 20,000 rounds of 10 millimeter AP/HE fuck you." The microphone picked up the whisper and transmitted it to the powers that be who were watching through his neural link. Said marine currently sat in the cockpit of a Reaver Urban Combat System, trying along with the remnants of 21st Company to keep a veritable horde of civilians from breaking into the local UNSC base.
One day after the last Abyssal had been destroyed, Marines and Army soldiers equipped with heavy duty riot shields formed a solid wall, holding back the tide. Powered armor suits like the Reaver stood silently behind them, a menacing, missile armed presence guaranteed to make even the most hardened rebel or Abyssal think twice about an assault. An angry, frightened civilian, however, was a whole different breed of creature.
Shouted questions and demands mixed into a sort of white noise for the troops, a backdrop to their struggle. The civilians in direct contact with the cordon demanded, bargained, or pleaded to be let through, for their questions to be answered, or to simply be reunited with loved ones scattered by the aborted evacuation. By now, most of the soldiers had stuffed their ears with whatever was on hand, complementing the built in noise protection of their helmets.
Captain Armandez walked up and down the line, giving orders, whispering encouragement, or yelling back at the civilians to back off. At one point the line buckled, threatening to give in to the massive wave of humanity. She'd ordered one of the Reaver drivers to fire a short burst, just 100 rounds or so, from her rotary cannon into the air. Needless to say, the sight of the orange-red tracers arcing into the sky created much consternation among the crowd, though they weren't deterred for long.
"Back! Off! Now!" A squad of marines had finally had enough and were levelling weapons at the civilians. That wouldn't do, even if the people were technically committing an illegal act she couldn't have her troops aiming at unarmed civilians.
"Echo Squad! Stand down!" The marines looked around, surprised their CO had noticed their little episode.
"Captain! They're refusing to obey orders, and they're going to break through! If this keeps up much longer, we'll be forced to fire!" The marines appeared nervous, even loaded for bear as they were, since most of their rounds were simply stun. Every other soldier had been issued lethal rounds, and only one magazine apiece at that. More than enough to turn the scene into a bloodbath, but most definitely not enough to take all the civilians out before they rioted and stormed the base.
"I don't care! We're not about to turn this into a massacre! Air support will be arriving soon, just hold on!" 21st Company had been holding the line since early morning, when the shock of Reach's survival had finally broken and crowds had swarmed the base, demanding answers.
"Ma'am! Wyverns inbound, ETA three minutes!" Her primary comms officer shouted from his position near the temporary CP. That was good news, with a wing of AV-28s on her side she'd have a better idea of the overall situation, plus the intimidation factor they would provide. She just hoped that her people would hold on long enough, the troops were tiring and the crowd just kept growing.
Captain Garcia sat in the cabin the captain of the Eternal had lent to him. He stared at the floor, numb to the activity going on right outside the door. What else was there for him to do, after all? His ship was gone. He didn't know where his crew was. He was a captain, they needed engineers. He was an officer, they needed gunners. He was a commander without a command, a captain in name only.
When the buzzer above his door sounded, he didn't bother checking the person's identity. "Enter." A marine, kitted out with full combat gear, stepped into his cabin.
"Sir, if you would, please come with me. Admiral Lasky wants to see you" Garcia took a moment to straighten out his uniform, then stood up from the bunk.
"Of course. Could I know what this is about?"
The marine's answer was prompt and abrupt. "Classified, need to know."
"Very well, lead the way marine." If he was going to disappear, he was going to disappear with dignity. The marine nodded, then stepped aside for him to exit.
They walked through the hallways of the Eternal, the marine glancing around nervously and his trigger finger constantly twitching. If Garcia had to guess, he'd say that this guy had probably been 'requisitioned' by ONI, pulled away from his unit and given this task. Using Admiral Lasky's name was probably just a front. He felt sorry for him, the marine most likely had no more of an idea of what was happening than Garcia did.
"Marine, may I ask you a question?" The marine started at his voice, his entire body doing a small jump.
"I-I guess, sir."
"Thank you. Are you at liberty to tell me why Admiral Lasky wants to see me?" The marine looked around, making sure there was nobody near by, then leaned in close.
"Well, he didn't say I couldn't. Rumor has it- you know that thing down in the brig? Rumor has it that another one showed up at Horizon, just blew away the Abyssals! They probably want everyone who's had contact with the first one planetside."
So Lasky, not ONI, had actually asked for him? Of all the things he'd thought might be the reason, he hadn't expecting the appearance of a second girl with magic powers to be it. "Thank you, marine. Lead the way."
A Pelican waited in the hangar, rear door open. The coffins were gone now, the final rites done and the bodies taken to be dumped into recyclers. Now there was only business, ships were landing every few minutes, technicians rushing out to refuel and prepare them for their next trip. Broadsword flights launched from the tubes right below the bay while returning fighters lowered themselves to the deck.
The marine knocked on the side of the Pelican, then entered and lowered himself into a seat. Garcia followed, seating himself in a position from which he could see into the cockpit. The dropship was fueled, the pilot was ready, what were they waiting for?
He didn't have to wait long, as another marine jumped into the hold. He was followed quickly by a corpsman, a HM1 by her rank insignia. As soon as they were in their seats, the rear door closed and the Pelican lifted off.
The dropship began to heat up as they hit atmosphere, but the cooling systems absorbed the energy, keeping the inside nice and chilly. They sat in silence, mulling over the information they'd been given. As the one they'd be meeting was Admiral Lasky, all of them were going over the proper procedures for greeting an admiral and what they'd be discussing with him.
Suddenly, several flaming streaks fell past the Pelican, the shockwaves buffeting the ship.
"What was that?" One marine asked, his helmet knocked askew by the shock.
The corpsman spoke up. "There's riots all over the planet, local forces have called for backup. ODSTs are going in." They all thought about that for a second, ODSTs dropping in could only mean trouble for whoever was on the receiving side. Garcia only prayed that they would be far away from wherever the riots were.
Lasky frowned as his Pelican entered the atmosphere. FLEETCOM still hadn't gotten back to him about his report. Usually they'd have sent a response by now.
"Sir, UNSC Newport News reports that transfer ops are complete. Their passenger has been secured and is being flown to Johnston as we speak."
"Thank you Roland. Send Newport News back to Horizon post-haste. They need every ship they can get over there."
"Aye, sir." Lasky broke the channel, coming back to reality. The dim interior of the Pelican shuddered as they fell through the atmosphere, and Lasky was forced to hold onto his seat to keep from being jolted about.
Looking through the cockpit, he could see the fiery streaks of SOEIVs going in. He didn't like ordering in the ODSTs, but the riots were getting out of hand and as overall commander of UNSC forces in the system he was responsible for putting them down.
Somewhere out there, he knew three other dropships were also heading planetside. Each carried its own very important cargo. Dawn was on one, the only few people who had had meaningful interactions with her were on another, and that new girl, In Amber Clad apparently, was on the third. If he hadn't been so worried about ONI interrupting, he'd have conducted the meeting on the Infinity. As it was, the only spook-free locations were on the surface.
Lasky looked over the meeting agenda he'd prepared and sighed. He had a lot of talking to do once he hit dirt.
/UNSC OPEN CHANNEL/
/REACH FLIGHTCOM/
/ACCESSING CHANNELS… LINKUP STARTED/
/FLIGHTCOM: Say again, Infinity, how many Pelicans? Over./
/UNSC INFINITY: FLIGHTCOM, we have four Pelicans inbound to Johnson AFB, say again four Pelicans, priority override Wilco Zeta Epsilon Three. Requesting empty skies out to 20 kilometers, over./
/FLIGHTCOM: Roger, Infinity, skies are yours. Sending routing data to you now, over./
/UNSC INFINITY: Wilco, FLIGHTCOM, complying with route now. Infinity, out./
Sitting in the passenger compartment of a Pelican, Dawn played with the tablet she'd been given. It was an awkward process due to the restraints clamped around her ankles and wrists, but she'd devised a method in which held the tablet with her four fingers and tapped at with her thumbs. Slow and tedious, to be sure, but the only other alternative was using her nose.
"Let's see… Admiral Lasky wanted me to read up on the history of the Abyssals… that would be… here, probably." She tapped the file labeled 'Library'. "Okay, we're in. So… here, this is probably good. 'A Current History of the Abyssal War'." She tried to touch the icon, but ended up tapping the title immediately to its left. "No! Damn!" She went back and tried again. This time, she was little too far to the right.
"Dammit! Too far! Too far!"
"Goddamn hitboxes! Too high!"
"Too low!" She finally got her thumb positioned over the book she wanted. Glaring at the screen, she slowly but surely lowered the digit. "Got it! Wait, what do you mean 'do you want the audio version?' I can read, you know!" It was a strange sight: a young girl, sitting in a Pelican, bound hand and foot, guarded by a squad of ODSTs, yelling at a tablet.
"Finally!" The book finally opened to the first page and for the first time, she had a glimpse of the war she would be fighting.
15 years ago
Arcadia, 2570. Re-terraformed into a living colony, the formerly glassed world was thriving. Industry had returned to its surface, chipping away what remained of the glass, restoring the environment. People, some the former residents of Arcadia, once again roamed the streets of the settlements. Hope was in the air.
Private Julie Armandez marched down the streets of New Pirth City along with her platoon, marking the tenth anniversary of mankind's return to the world. The citizenry, normally reserved, allowed themselves a moment of wild revelry, cheering, throwing confetti and dancing in the streets.
As she looked around her, a sense of pride swelled in her chest. She'd heard stories from her mother about this place, about how once they'd had a house by the Inland Sea, and her mother would fish for trills to sell at the market. How the air smelled so sweet, especially on those days when the two moons were full and you could read by their light.
Her father had told her tales of working on the farms, how for kilometers all one could see was gently waving stalks of wheat. How he got lost in the fields once and survived for a week and a half eating nothing but corn. She always asked him to tell that one again, and each time he told it the story would get more outlandish, with her father waving his arms about while her mother shook her head and laughed in the background.
This had all been glass ten years ago, when the colony ships had touched down. Since then, with the help of the UNSC and advanced terraforming technology, the colonists had nursed the battered world back to life. They said that, in a few years, they might even be able to bring the trills back.
The parade rounded the corner, turning onto the main street. Most of the soldiers marching today had some connection to Arcadia, whether they'd lived here as children or had family from it or had friends who hailed from the planet. Nowadays, Arcadia was a massive agri-world, rivalling Harvest for scale of production. Its crops fed people across human space, and it was said in another ten years Arcadia might even replace Harvest.
Armandez didn't care about any of that. All she knew was that she was back on her parent's home world, finally seeing with her own eyes what she'd only heard about in stories.
The parade came to a halt, the soldiers coming to parade rest as the governor stepped onto a podium, preparing to read his speech. The crowd fell silent, waiting for her to speak.
"People of Arcadia, today we mark ten years since we returned. It's been a long, hard struggle, but we've come so far. I wish to thank you for all your efforts. It's truly been humbling, seeing how much we can accomplish when we come together. I am honored to be your leader."
Armandez stood with her hands behind her back, staring up with a stony face, as per regulations. This was a great day, and she wasn't going to ruin it by breaking out into a smile on a live broadcast.
"Look at our world! Ten years ago, nothing lived! Now, with our technology and our labor, we grow as much as Harvest! The name Arcadia, across human space, brings to mind fields of wheat, visions of great cities and glittering waters. It is all thanks to you. Now, I've held you long enough. I declare to you all, let the celebrations begin!"
As the crowd went wild, the soldiers held their formation for one more second before also dispersing. Armandez ran over to her squad leader, an Arcadia native, and gave her a massive bear hug. She squealed, "Isn't this great?! Ten years! Can you imagine?!"
"Yeah, yeah, get off Julie. Remember, we're still on duty. We're supposed to provide security for the celebrations, keep anyone from getting too excited."
"Sure, sure, whatever you say! I know all you want to do is party!"
Miranda glared at her for half a second longer before breaking into a massive grin. "You know me too well, Armandez. We're not supposed to drink on duty, but is there a bar around here? You know, just so we can assess the situation and supervise the patrons?"
"Yep! Come on, I'll take you there. Grab the squad!"
"One second. Mayer! Dubois! Get the rest of the squad! We're falling in for drinks!" The two marines grinned, saluted, then ran to find the others. The squad gathered and marched off to the bar in order to conduct a recon in force.
Fifteen minutes later, weapons leaning against the stools and helmets on the counter, the group was drinking away merrily, laughing and trading stories. "And then Laurent… Laurent tries to salute, but he's still holding the mop, so when he salutes, it comes up and hits the major in the face!" The squad roared with laughter while Laurent, face red, grinned and ducked his head behind his drink.
"Come on, Laurent, you gotta have something!" The private thought about it for a second.
"Well, there's one thing. So, this one time-" He never got to finish the tale. Cutting through the noise of the crowd, through the hubbub of the bar, through the slightly alcohol impaired senses of the marines, came a series of three high-pitched tones.
The marines whirled around, staring out into the street. The crowd had gone deathly quiet, everybody staring up at the PA loudspeakers.
"What was that?" Then, the loudspeakers blared again, answering the question. A series of five rising and falling tones turned their faces white.
"All citizens, please remain calm and proceed to designated evacuation zones. This is not a drill." The same five tones played again, followed by the message repeating. To anyone who'd lived through the Covenant War, these sounds could only mean one thing. Arcadia was about to burn once more.
"Oh fuck no." Outside, people were coming out of their shock. The joy and revelry were gone, replaced by grim determination. Some stood still, unable to believe their ears. Most of them, however, began an automatic response drilled into them from birth. They found their family members and began moving towards the evacuation zones.
"Everybody, on me!" Miranda was already strapping on her helmet. The others, figuring that it would be their last for a while, downed their drinks and followed her example. Armandez buckled her helmet strap, adjusting it so it sat comfortably on her head. She picked up her rifle and went through her mental checklist.
Magazine secure and full, bolt cocked, safety engaged, aimpoint synchronized. She sighted down the barrel of her rifle, making sure that the crosshairs projected in her HUD were consistent with the iron sights. As her drill sergeant had said, the crosshairs were nice to have but in the end the iron sights were always right.
"Come on, people, let's move!" Miranda was already moving onto the street, rifle out and ready to perform crowd control, the others close behind. Armandez moved to follow them, her mind in a daze, not truly comprehending what was happening. Her greaves, improperly adjusted, caught on the bar stool, sending her sprawling to the ground.
"Agh! Fuck!" She picked herself up slowly, kneeling in order to properly put on her armor.
"Come on, private, let's go!" Miranda's shout came floating through the door.
"One second!" Armandez finished adjusting her armor, then stood up, picked up her rifle, and ran out.
She had just exited when a shadow fell across the street. Everyone felt a shiver of dread crawl up their spines and as one they looked up. The burning wreckage of UNSC vessels fell from the sky, blotting out the sun. As she watched, one piece in particular, shedding debris and belching smoke, seemed to be heading right for her.
"Go! Run!" Someone screamed, breaking the paralysis that had overcome the group. Civilians screamed, soldiers yelled, and they all ran for safety. Julie dove back into the bar, hoping the sturdy construction of the building would protect her. The others ran for a building on the other side of the street and hunkered down.
Armandez locked eyes with Miranda. Her squad leader nodded at her one last time, then turned to yell orders at the rest of the marines. Armandez began to shout out to her, but then the wreckage hit and the world turned dark.
Captain Julie Armandez shook her head and growled. This was no time for flashbacks, not when she was holding back the crowd like this. The Wyverns were overhead, and the Reaver drivers were doing their best to look scary, but it just wasn't cutting it. The crowd was getting bigger and more agitated by the minute.
"Sir! We can't hold them back, we're about to go loud!" Her marines were clicking safeties off weapons, it was about to turn into a bloodbath.
She began to yell an order. "Stand do-"
BOOM
The sound of multiple heavy objects slamming into reinforced concrete hit them, followed moments later by a sonic boom that stumbled a few civilians.
The hatches on the pods hissed, then blew off in classic ODST fashion. The black armored shock troopers jumped out, stun batons and riot control guns raised and fell on the crowd, swinging, stabbing and shooting. Civilians went down left and right, electrocuted or knocked unconscious, as the other soldiers, sick and tired of not being able to fight back, joined in with a wild yell. The line of soldiers crashed into the riot, people knocking each other to the ground in panic. She saw the ODSTs take hold of multiple people and throw them to the ground, stunning and cuffing them. They were then unceremoniously thrown in a pile, bodies limp like ragdolls.
Armandez tried to rein in her troops, but saw it was useless. There was just too much frustration and anger, waiting to be taken out on something, anything. The Reaver drivers joined in, using grenade launchers loaded with tear gas to further pacify the civilians. A few Wyverns flew in close, using the force from their engines to drive the crowd to the ground. Soon, the riot was contained, all civilians either detained or knocked out. Through the commotion, an ODST lieutenant jogged up to her, coming to crisp attention.
"Captain Armandez?
"Yes, that's me. What is it, lieutenant?"
"Ma'am! Orders for you, 21st Company is to withdraw to Johnston AFB in order to conduct security ops, we'll take over here!"
"Johnston?" Isn't that where all those tanks were heading earlier? "Very well, on our way. Let Johnston know. Thank you, lieutenant."
"Ma'am!" The ODST snapped a salute, then turned on his heel and jogged off back to his men. She watched him go, then turned to gather her men. Before she did so, she resynchronized her HUD crosshairs with her iron sights, remembering what her drill sergeant had told her so long ago.
Three Pelicans touched down at Johnston Air Force Base. Their engines shut off, their pilots completed the final checks. Guards, warned of the high priority and possibly dangerous cargo on board, swarmed the dropships, making a cordon around each. Tanks, brought in earlier that day, leveled their guns at the dropships. If anything on board the craft had hostile intentions, it'd die courtesy of sixty-six tons of HE spewing divine intervention.
Inside the first Pelican, Dawn felt the bump and hastily stowed her tablet, stuffing it into the pouch below the seat. Her guards stood up, roughly pulling her with them. The rear hatch hissed, equalizing the pressure inside the craft with the outside. It fell open with a clunk, letting sunlight stream in.
Garcia squinted at the sudden brightness that poured into his dropship. The corpsman, whose name he'd learned was Hikowa, stood and, shrugging off the protest of the guards, walked down the ramp first. Garcia followed, allowing the marines to go before him. He stepped out, blinking the last spots from his vision, and was greeted with the sight of a tank platoon, two companies, and an aviation wing pointing their weapons at him.
Hikowa stared down the barrels of at least fifteen MA5ds. Seven point six two millimeters wasn't very large, but looking down those barrels it suddenly seemed very, very over sized. The marines behind those barrels remained as still as stone, faces concealed behind grade 5 HAZOP masks. She risked peeking to the side to check the safeties on the weapons; all off. If she knew her equipment right, those canisters on their belts would contain all sorts of chemicals, and she'd be damned if that marine wasn't carrying a Splazer.
Finally, the ramp on the last Pelican dropped, and half the marines swung their weapons over to cover it. Almost as one, Dawn, Garcia, and Hikowa turned to see who it would be.
First came an ODST, clad in a Mk 6 powered exoskeleton. A recent development, the miniature servos and fusion cell essentially turned the ODST wearing it into a mini-Spartan, capable of keeping up with actual Spartans during operations. It did come with drawbacks though, requiring some augmentation and surgery to wear. The Mk 1 had been bolted to the user's skeleton through a series of connecting ports. In this case, the ODST was wearing attached to a specialized bodysuit, linked to his neural lace.
A girl, wearing a UNSC Navy BDU and a flattened officer's cap, stepped out of the hold, shielding her eyes with her bound hands. She stood there, trying to get her bearings, but her other guard gave her a power assisted shove in the back. She nearly stumbled over her bound feet, but recovered and gave the ODST a vicious glare.
"Move it!" She complied, moving in an awkward shuffle down to where six Warthogs waited. The marines with Hikowa, Garcia, and Dawn also motioned for them to move to the Warthogs, pushed in Dawn's case. They took up three Warthogs in total, the other three kept their guns ready and aimed at them. The barrier of marines stepped aside, the drivers revved the engines, and they sped off towards the buildings of Johnston AFB.
/JOHNSTON AFB/
/SUBSYSTEM 14.A.8/
/SEAL LEVEL: FIVE/
The bunker door closed behind them with an echoing thump. The marines stood near the walls, taking positions that were unobtrusive yet allowed them to observe everything. Hikowa, Garcia, Dawn, and the new girl looked at each other awkwardly, then took seats at the long table in the middle of the bunker. The new girl sat down carefully, touching as little as she could. It seemed like she was trying to minimize body contact with anything, whereas the others just plopped down into their seats.
The silence stretched on. Dawn swore she could hear crickets, even though they were underground.
She tried to break the tension. "So… should we do names?" Everyone in the room shot her a look, and she shrank back into her seat. "Sorry…"
At that moment, the door opened and Lasky walked in. "Sorry to keep you waiting, people." There was a rush to stand and salute, with all four of them knocking over their chairs. Lasky motioned for them to sit back down.
"There's no need for that here. We're way off the book, and I'm here to get things done. I'm not about to stand on regulation." He paused as he took a seat at the head of the table. "Captain Garcia. I'm glad to see you."
"Same, sir." Dawn took a closer look at the guy, and confirmed that he was the officer she'd saved.
"Ms. Hikowa. Good to have you as well." If her fuzzy and rather painful memories served her well, that was the corpsman who'd saved her.
"Dawn. Nice to see you've been doing well since our last meeting." She nodded, wondering what all of this was about. The other girl gave her a strange look, but jolted back when Lasky spoke next.
"And finally, In Amber Clad."
Everyone seated at the table, wondering who the girl was, did a double take and stared at her. The guards got in on the action as well, subtly craning their necks and leaning to get better angles. "Sir." The girl said, speaking up for the first time, seemingly unperturbed by the stares she was getting. "FFG-142, UNSC In Amber Clad. It's good to be back in action."