Chapter 11 – Debriefing

/End Deployment/ 342 Hours:30 Minutes:07 Seconds
0600 Hours, 27 April 2525 (Military Calendar)/
Epsilon Eridani System, Planet Reach, Reach Military Complex—Camp Hathcock

"I want medical teams on 'round the clock watches!" some booming voice resonated. It sank into the hazy depths of Brad's cognizance, just an echo to him. It was barely audible. He almost understood each word, but his subconscious didn't want him to. He was still technically frozen. The voice carried on every now and then with long periods of silence in between. Brad could sense the stretcher beneath him as it rolled a great distance, feeling as though the world passed him by.

He knew some time had gone by since the last sounds of those hazy words spoken in a place he couldn't remember the looks of. For now, he winked a few times at the harsh lights overhead, blazing white. It dazzled his head.

He rolled his sights around to anywhere but up, trying to come back to his normal sense of equilibrium. Tiny tracers squiggled and raced after his vision as he swept over the panels of luminous white above. As he gradually sensed relief, he picked up a scent: food. It was excellent food, the best he'd had in a while. On a nightstand to his right, there was a plate full of scrambled eggs, a square of hash browns, thick slices of bacon and all the orange juice he could wash it down with. He devoured it all in minutes.

Brad surmised that the Argo was intercepted when it entered normal space from the long return journey. He and his crew were ushered to somewhere secure on Reach. As they came to, they were placed in small rooms of their own with more than ample amounts of sustenance. By his taste, the food was one-hundred percent real. Nothing synthetic. Each room was a twenty by twenty square, nothing fancy. Just styrocrete walls, a hospital bed, as well as a camera in the upper right corner. Illuminating everything was intense fluorescent lighting overhead. The mission ended in almost the same way it started out.

Just as he finished wiping his lips with a napkin, he looked around once more: there was absolutely nothing for him in here. How long was he needed to stay? As he tried forcing himself to fall back asleep, he wondered what was next.

Then...the only door to the room swung open on heavy hinges. Outside, it was almost pitch black, intensely dark, almost troubling. The outlines of a man were visible.

Brad began to wonder where everyone else was. What happened to his crew and his ship?

The lone figure outside stepped forth. Dressed in a black suit, tall and thin he was. Mirror-black shoes tapped against the floor with every step as he approached Brad's hospital bed. That's when Brad looked up and met the man's eyes. There was nothing unusual about this person from a distance, but Brad fostered a strong hunch that this was an Intel field agent the closer he got. Matching the elegance of his business attire was a full head of silver hair, much like Pryor's, but trimmed to more precise cut. The man looked very busy with his lips pursed thin and his cheekbones tight with concentration. As the man drew nearer, he seemed too comfortable despite how fast he walked. He was definitely accustomed to this sort of scenario. He knelt down to Brad's eye level, smiled and asked, "So, are you ready for the debrief?"

Still groggy, Brad reached to put his plate of food on the nightstand next to his simple bed. "I…I guess so. When is it?"

"I was hoping for right now if you're up to it."

The man motioned with two fingers for a guard to bring forth a chair and it was promptly done.

Brad wasn't thrilled that the debriefing was being conducted so hastily. Brad had a lot of his own information he felt was needed to be disclosed. He always felt they demanded more, like he had to sugar coat his every action, where as being debriefed by good 'ol brass like Colonel Sherr, he could just be himself. But he was home, almost. He was surely safe. And this man in front seemed rather down to Reach despite the tell-tale signs of spookiness.

"What day is it?" Brad asked.

"It is April twenty-seventh and the time is zero-six-fifteen. You are in Camp Hathcock, Reach." He eased down into the mild steel chair and settled in. "Do you mind if I smoke?"

"Uh, no. Not really."

He lit up and took a long, slow puff—held it there for a moment and then let it out just as smoothly.

"Can I bum one?" Brad asked.

"Sure." the man happily obliged. "Our records indicate you don't smoke. Why the sudden change?"

"I figured I'd start in light of recent events."

"Understandable, used to be these things would kill ya."

"I've heard that once or twice."

"Not nearly as bad as those creatures you all encountered." the man exhaled smoothly. "I had a look at those video logs. Nasty stuff. I'm Lieutenant Colonel Ackerson. I know you think the suit is odd, but I'm a special agent with the Office of Naval Intelligence and it's part of my job to blend in." he finished with a contented smile.

"A man of many hats, I see." Brad replied. "I'm sure it has its perks."

"I get to ditch the camouflage every now and then."

Brad smirked.

"So, down to business. I'd like to know a little more about the civilian you rescued during your deployment."

Brad took in a drag of his first ever cigarette, surprisingly not coughing or gagging as he drew it in, and let it out appreciatively. He nodded as he raised the cigarette up briefly before asking, "What did you want to know?"

"How you came in contact with him, how long he was aboard your ship, and anything he said about these hostiles you encountered."

"Well, after we arrived and subsequently came in contact with the Covenant—"

"—Covenant? That's the aliens?"

"Yes. After we came in contact with them, they immediately fired on us unprovoked, so we hauled ass to this nearby asteroid field. It was then that we found Al."

"Yes…Al."

"So, we brought him aboard and used his ship as a diversion to get us out of there."

"Ship's instrumentation data indicates that you then released and detonated the NOVA."

"Yes sir."

"Quite a sight. Yes?"

"Well, sure. It was...incredible."

"And what did he say about the aliens?"

"Al? He just said that they called themselves the Covenant and that we are against the Gods they worship."

"Where did he tell you he came from?"

"He said from Reach…on business."

"And did he say who he works for?"

"I'm pretty sure he said he was once a Marine, now he's a private government contractor or one of those types."

"Good. Thank you."

Ackerson began to rise, checking his timepiece.

"Don't you want to know more about the Covenant?" Brad furrowed his brow, sitting straighter. "How they took out Harvest or what kind of firepower they're packing?"

"We already know." Ackerson replied, stopping short of the door. "We've had a look at the Argo's data and in accordance with official instruction, scrubbed it."

"What official instruction is this? There's a lot of personnel who need to know about this mission, sir."

"The appropriate personnel will be briefed following my visit here."

"Why scrub the Argo's master station log, sir?"

"Tell me, Brad, how does early retirement sound?"

"I don't understand."

"Some great things are in line for you if you provide a little cooperation."

Dumbfounded, Brad answered nonetheless. "I'll cooperate no matter what, sir." he said with a challenge. "Anything you need to know. You'll have full cooperation from my men as well."

"That's good to know. Collaboration is the sole of good business." Ackerson reached into the breast pocket inside of his suit, retrieved a small datapad and pulled from his inner lapel a plastic stylus with the ONI emblem scribed into it. "I understand that you're up for retirement in the next attrition cycle. Congratulations. Here is everything to bump the pay up a little and to make it effective immediately, if you so choose."

Brad eyed the screen suspiciously as Ackerson offered it with an outstretched arm.

"You're serious?"

"Sign by all the prompts and you will settle down into the good life with a monthly stipend equivalent to seventy-five percent of Captain's pay, guaranteed, free and clear. But I caution you, it doesn't come without caveats."

Brad took a hard look at the document. "Lot better than what big Navy's gonna do for me." he uttered with an ambitious glean in his eye.

"Certainly is, Brad. And I'll tell you what: there will be no harassment from ONI if you put your name to this NDA."

"Harassment?" Brad involuntarily gave the agent a sidelong glance, and his brow furrowed into deeper lines of concern. "Sir, did our mission go against protocol?"

"First, protocol is too exact a word for a mission with no precedent, Brad, but many have said that the Argo crew did about as well as it could have. Personally, Lieutenant, you did a commendable job, you and your team. I don't believe any other crew could have performed better. More than likely, most would have failed long before you gave the order to return to this star system. Now, we just need to make sure this incident remains under wraps. The public needn't know there's a technologically-superior alien horde out there that wipes out colonies for kicks."

"What is the CMA doing about it?"

"It is now being handled through the appropriate channels." the Light Colonel said. He then nodded solemnly, but the look in Brad's eyes was anything but convinced. "Take solace in the fact that you'll be able to spend all your time with your wife and your daughter, Vanessa. I know I would."

Brad's adrenaline spiked at the mention of his family. He didn't dare show it, though.

And Brad's own perception was still sharp despite having been flash-thawed for this event; he could sense Ackerson gauging his reactions very carefully with the kind of cryptic vigilance only an Intel officer had the ability to perfect over many years.

Something strange was going on here, something vast in scope. Why mention his family? Brad didn't quite know what to make of Ackerson's last statement. This Lieutenant Colonel did not want anyone knowing the mission's details, that was clear. It was also just now made clear that Brad's family was on the chopping block, not just the possibility of an early retirement with benefits.

Brad stared back a few heartbeats, swallowed the lump in his throat gingerly.

Whatever it was that this agent had going on under the surface, it was deep. Too deep for just a lieutenant and Brad knew it.

Brad involuntarily blinked and nodded, as if trained and told to do so like an obedient house pet. He felt a sense of foreboding regret letting himself be bullied into this situation he was now about to literally sign off on, but this was quite possibly the only option he possessed here and now. He was unprepared and out of his element against the likes of ONI types. And after all, he did complete the mission. He got everyone back safe and ONI had all the Intel they needed. He could go back to his family. Whether Brad liked it or not, signing his life away was a win-win situation, especially when the one in front knew everything about him.

"Sir, this all sounds really good. I'll take it." he said as he hastily signed the page. He gave the pen one last tap at the end of his last name before he handed it back. "Do my men get the same benefits?"

"Yes, in fact they do...and that's another thing, Brad."

"Sir?"

"I know your mission is over and you want to get back to your family and friends, but this is a time to choose wisely which friends you remain in contact with."

"Are you saying I can't contact my crew?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Any slip up, especially in public places, could allow disclosure of classified information to unprivileged eyes and ears and that would just make things messy."

Ackerson once again stared into Brad, rhythmically slapping the plastic stylus into the palm of his other hand.

Brad got the drift. He'd heard of the members of this clandestine organization, how they operated...sometimes above the law. Just then, the door to the cell opened and another man in a suit appeared in the threshold. Ackerson shot up from his chair like lightning.

As if perceptive of Ackerson's apprehension, the guard waiting outside instantly came into view. "Sir, he had clearance."

Ackerson casually turned his back to the newcomer in what was tantamount to disrespect and trained his cool gaze back on Brad as he sat down. He pointed a thumb toward the exit and said, "Beat it, Watts."

The guard approached the newcomer's side, waiting for him to comply before he'd resort to any use of force. The other agent stood there and panned his sour expression off of Ackerson. As he looked to Brad, his demeanor changed.

Brad was unable to tell what just happened.

After the guard escorted that agent away, Brad sat straighter. "So what's going to happen to Al?"

"That's an entirely new matter. Good day to you, Captain. We'll be watching."

Lieutenant Colonel Ackerson got up and walked away, never to be seen by the crew of the Argo again.

The story continues with HALO Genesis: The Last Drop...