CHAPTER 28
1804 Hours, August 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Docking bay of UNSC battle cruiser Consitution
Dropship Foehammer came wheeling into the docking bay, engines flaring in protest through the zero-gravity as the docking bay doors closed behind them. Landing gear dropped from the ship's belly as it settled on the bay floor. On the back, the boarding door hissed open and a ramp extended. Down it walked the only surviving Spartans of the disaster at planet Raiek and its moon, Orean.
"Welcome home, Spartans!" Captain Hank Moores said as he approached them, holding out his hand. "You did an excellent job eradicating those Covenant forces and, even though it cost four men of your team, Commander, your—" James pushed past the Captain and confronted Captain Martin, who was standing behind Moores looking extremely unhappy with himself and everyone around him.
"You knew more than you told us. Why didn't you tell me about the EMP device?" he asked, frowning under his helmet, which was back on his head to hide the red, swollen eyes. "What about the Howlers? You never informed Moores or my team of any of this before we were sent down. I understand you gave Moores his orders." He pointed his MA5B accusingly at the Captain. "You could have sent us to our deaths!"
"Perhaps I should explain myself," Martin said, his mood suddenly brightening. James nodded. "First things first...why didn't I tell you about the EMP device the Covenant hid in the core? Well, I didn't want to worry you."
"How long ago did that thing get installed? I thought Fortress Orean was a human-built establishment?"
"It was. Humans settled on the barren wasteland three hundred years ago, after we had barely achieved light-speed space travel. The planet itself was transformed through atmos-tranformation, a new technology we had developed at the time to change barren rocks like Orean into habitable ecosystems. Houses were erected and the moon became a human colony."
"What about Raiek?" James pressed.
Martin held up his hand. "I will get there in due time. A hundred years after the colony was built, an unknown race with howling cries came and destroyed the planet, turning it into a barren rock again, and killing thousands of humans. What remained of the colony fled the planet, and the Howlers followed, eventually killing off all of them. Fortress Orean was the last standing complex, and it was actually a weapon to fight off the Covenant, as you probably know, harnessing the plasma core of Raiek."
"So this is where Raiek comes in," James interrupted.
"Aye, Commander," Martin said, nodding. He continued. "The atmosphere of Raiek was much too harsh for human life, so Orean was used. When the Howlers destroyed it, the Fortress was turned to rubble. Hundreds of year later, along come the Covenant, and they decide they want to harness the plasma energy for themselves. They erected a complex called Daygars, named after a powerful Prophet, and used it as a site for 'harvesting,'" Martin held up two hands and moved his pointer finger and middle finger up and down to signal the quotations, "if you will, the plasma of Raiek, and delivering it to Orean, as we did. I needed to eradicate that force, but not let anyone know of the tragedy that happened beforehand, so history would not repeat itself."
"Repeat itself?" Bryce asked.
"When I got wind of the Howlers coming to the planet and moon, I covered it as best I could so as not to worry those who had heard of Orean hundreds of years ago."
"At least you have some good points there," James grunted, shouldering his weapon.
"I forgot to mention, when the Covenant took Fortress Orean for themselves, they realized they didn't have the atmos-transformation technology, so they set up an EMP device that slowly deflected radiation rays and allowed plant life to grow again, which they sped up using their own technology, turning Orean into the moon it once was."
"What was in it for the Flood?" James asked.
"After their defeat on Halo, the Flood were interested in defeating both the Covenant and the humans, but as you can tell, they succeeded at neither one."
"Yes, they did," James muttered.
"Pardon?"
"You have some nice points, Captain," James said, straightening up and walking calmly towards the ship hatch beyond. "And I forgive your actions." He turned around and faced his Captain. "I expect a ceremony for my comrades' and my own services?"
Moores was a superior officer to the Commander, of course, but he felt the certain need to fulfill the requests of the man that had saved the planet Earth, along with billions of humans.
"Of course, Commander," Moores jumped in, looking haughty. "As soon as possible."
"I thank you, sir, and if you'll excuse us, Spartans need their rest too...it's been a busy day..." With that, Master Commander James Carser and his only remaining teammate, Master Chief Bryce McClain, walked past the Captain and their officers, heading up into the barracks, looking forward to a peaceful and completely uninterrupted rest.
"Ten-shun!" Captain Moores ordered as they retreated, his voice echoing all through the ship via his mic. Six hundred salutes, all coming from somewhere within the ship, saluted the two survivors. They had become true, respected heroes.
Three days later, a memorial service was held for the four Spartans and several dozen Marines that had lost their lives to eliminate outpost Raiek. Since no bodies could possibly be recovered from that type of an explosion, empty caskets engraved with the names—General Alex Daufel, Sergeant Brent Ashley, Colonel Jason Lent, Lieutenant Jarrett Daufel—sat in a row, with the Silver Star medal placed on top.
Commander James Carser, wearing not his Spartan armor, but the traditional UNSC uniform, stood with countless badges pinned to his chest—including the recently-added Purple Heart—and watched. The four caskets sank into Earth's soil at about the same time, lowered by cranes and placed on the hole's bottom. Standing up at the head of the rows of Marines watching was Captain Frank Martin. Alongside him stood Captain Hank Moores. Directly in front of them stood four battle-dressed Marines—one to represent each Spartan that had died—and held an ancient type of rifle in their hands. The elongated barrel was pointed towards the sky, and they rested the back of the weapon on their shoulder. This type of weapon had been used during World War II, hundreds of years before.
"Ready!" Martin boomed, indicating the Marines. The four Marines raised their guns and aimed them away from anyone, towards the sky behind the Captains. "Fire!" One shot. "Fire!" Another shot. "Fire!" A third shot. "Fire!" The final shot rang out, as Carser watched, standing beside McClain, who was also out of his armor.
Those four shots had indicated each Spartan that had died in battle. Carser remembered when Reach fell, thousands of Marines had lined up and fired at the same time. The resulting noise had deafened them for several seconds. McClain looked sideways at his Commander and saw tears course their way down his cheeks, one from either eye.
The trumpet began to play, booming out the death march as another Marine stepped up to the front of the line. Notes hit Carser's heart like a hammer, making him fully grasp the fact that he was never going to see his lost friends again. When the final note hit, and the trumpeteer finally silenced himself, James Carser cried one last time, wiped away his tears, and saluted with the rest of the Marines.
"Ten-shun!" the trumpeteer barked. "Salute!"
Two thousand salutes came at the same time, and the Spartans were laid to rest.
1804 Hours, August 13, 2553 (Military Calendar)/ Docking bay of UNSC battle cruiser Consitution
Dropship Foehammer came wheeling into the docking bay, engines flaring in protest through the zero-gravity as the docking bay doors closed behind them. Landing gear dropped from the ship's belly as it settled on the bay floor. On the back, the boarding door hissed open and a ramp extended. Down it walked the only surviving Spartans of the disaster at planet Raiek and its moon, Orean.
"Welcome home, Spartans!" Captain Hank Moores said as he approached them, holding out his hand. "You did an excellent job eradicating those Covenant forces and, even though it cost four men of your team, Commander, your—" James pushed past the Captain and confronted Captain Martin, who was standing behind Moores looking extremely unhappy with himself and everyone around him.
"You knew more than you told us. Why didn't you tell me about the EMP device?" he asked, frowning under his helmet, which was back on his head to hide the red, swollen eyes. "What about the Howlers? You never informed Moores or my team of any of this before we were sent down. I understand you gave Moores his orders." He pointed his MA5B accusingly at the Captain. "You could have sent us to our deaths!"
"Perhaps I should explain myself," Martin said, his mood suddenly brightening. James nodded. "First things first...why didn't I tell you about the EMP device the Covenant hid in the core? Well, I didn't want to worry you."
"How long ago did that thing get installed? I thought Fortress Orean was a human-built establishment?"
"It was. Humans settled on the barren wasteland three hundred years ago, after we had barely achieved light-speed space travel. The planet itself was transformed through atmos-tranformation, a new technology we had developed at the time to change barren rocks like Orean into habitable ecosystems. Houses were erected and the moon became a human colony."
"What about Raiek?" James pressed.
Martin held up his hand. "I will get there in due time. A hundred years after the colony was built, an unknown race with howling cries came and destroyed the planet, turning it into a barren rock again, and killing thousands of humans. What remained of the colony fled the planet, and the Howlers followed, eventually killing off all of them. Fortress Orean was the last standing complex, and it was actually a weapon to fight off the Covenant, as you probably know, harnessing the plasma core of Raiek."
"So this is where Raiek comes in," James interrupted.
"Aye, Commander," Martin said, nodding. He continued. "The atmosphere of Raiek was much too harsh for human life, so Orean was used. When the Howlers destroyed it, the Fortress was turned to rubble. Hundreds of year later, along come the Covenant, and they decide they want to harness the plasma energy for themselves. They erected a complex called Daygars, named after a powerful Prophet, and used it as a site for 'harvesting,'" Martin held up two hands and moved his pointer finger and middle finger up and down to signal the quotations, "if you will, the plasma of Raiek, and delivering it to Orean, as we did. I needed to eradicate that force, but not let anyone know of the tragedy that happened beforehand, so history would not repeat itself."
"Repeat itself?" Bryce asked.
"When I got wind of the Howlers coming to the planet and moon, I covered it as best I could so as not to worry those who had heard of Orean hundreds of years ago."
"At least you have some good points there," James grunted, shouldering his weapon.
"I forgot to mention, when the Covenant took Fortress Orean for themselves, they realized they didn't have the atmos-transformation technology, so they set up an EMP device that slowly deflected radiation rays and allowed plant life to grow again, which they sped up using their own technology, turning Orean into the moon it once was."
"What was in it for the Flood?" James asked.
"After their defeat on Halo, the Flood were interested in defeating both the Covenant and the humans, but as you can tell, they succeeded at neither one."
"Yes, they did," James muttered.
"Pardon?"
"You have some nice points, Captain," James said, straightening up and walking calmly towards the ship hatch beyond. "And I forgive your actions." He turned around and faced his Captain. "I expect a ceremony for my comrades' and my own services?"
Moores was a superior officer to the Commander, of course, but he felt the certain need to fulfill the requests of the man that had saved the planet Earth, along with billions of humans.
"Of course, Commander," Moores jumped in, looking haughty. "As soon as possible."
"I thank you, sir, and if you'll excuse us, Spartans need their rest too...it's been a busy day..." With that, Master Commander James Carser and his only remaining teammate, Master Chief Bryce McClain, walked past the Captain and their officers, heading up into the barracks, looking forward to a peaceful and completely uninterrupted rest.
"Ten-shun!" Captain Moores ordered as they retreated, his voice echoing all through the ship via his mic. Six hundred salutes, all coming from somewhere within the ship, saluted the two survivors. They had become true, respected heroes.
Three days later, a memorial service was held for the four Spartans and several dozen Marines that had lost their lives to eliminate outpost Raiek. Since no bodies could possibly be recovered from that type of an explosion, empty caskets engraved with the names—General Alex Daufel, Sergeant Brent Ashley, Colonel Jason Lent, Lieutenant Jarrett Daufel—sat in a row, with the Silver Star medal placed on top.
Commander James Carser, wearing not his Spartan armor, but the traditional UNSC uniform, stood with countless badges pinned to his chest—including the recently-added Purple Heart—and watched. The four caskets sank into Earth's soil at about the same time, lowered by cranes and placed on the hole's bottom. Standing up at the head of the rows of Marines watching was Captain Frank Martin. Alongside him stood Captain Hank Moores. Directly in front of them stood four battle-dressed Marines—one to represent each Spartan that had died—and held an ancient type of rifle in their hands. The elongated barrel was pointed towards the sky, and they rested the back of the weapon on their shoulder. This type of weapon had been used during World War II, hundreds of years before.
"Ready!" Martin boomed, indicating the Marines. The four Marines raised their guns and aimed them away from anyone, towards the sky behind the Captains. "Fire!" One shot. "Fire!" Another shot. "Fire!" A third shot. "Fire!" The final shot rang out, as Carser watched, standing beside McClain, who was also out of his armor.
Those four shots had indicated each Spartan that had died in battle. Carser remembered when Reach fell, thousands of Marines had lined up and fired at the same time. The resulting noise had deafened them for several seconds. McClain looked sideways at his Commander and saw tears course their way down his cheeks, one from either eye.
The trumpet began to play, booming out the death march as another Marine stepped up to the front of the line. Notes hit Carser's heart like a hammer, making him fully grasp the fact that he was never going to see his lost friends again. When the final note hit, and the trumpeteer finally silenced himself, James Carser cried one last time, wiped away his tears, and saluted with the rest of the Marines.
"Ten-shun!" the trumpeteer barked. "Salute!"
Two thousand salutes came at the same time, and the Spartans were laid to rest.