Chapter 12: Off to War

"How long since we lost contact?"
"Over half an hour sir, none of our signals are even finding something to bounce back off of." Lieutenant General Avery Johnson II hurried down dimly lit hallways towards a pair of dark wood doors. Standing in front were two fully armed guards, almost their entire body covered in composite armor painted a black color over urban fatigues. Flying past, Johnson could see his reflection of the blue visor that covered their face, hastily returning their salute. Once inside, the Lt. General started speaking again as he met with the other officers who had arranged around a massive holotank imbedded in the ground.
"Bring all fleets up to full ready status. Any reserve units need to be brought into active duty and start getting warnings out the governments of the Outer Rim planets."
"Yes sir," the man who had been hurrying with him turned around and left the room.
"Thank-you for joining us so quickly General," one of the officers, much older than Johnson, said. Light danced across all of their faces, aging them by twenty years at least as different images of a planet flicked back and forth. Red warning messages circulated the forested planet.
"There hasn't been any communication with the planet's defense fleet for more than twenty minutes. I believe it's safe to assume they've been wiped out." A few of the officers broke away from the circle and walked towards the large floor to ceiling windows that afforded a view of the Pacific on one side and metro Sydney on the other.
"I'm sorry if this question has already been asked, but how long do we believe the assault lasted?" Johnson asked.
"No more than ten minutes. Don't take it at face value; their fleet consisted mostly of a few old Mako-class corvettes using outdated weaponry. Pirates wouldn't have even had a hard time with it."
"Have any decisions been made regarding troop movements around the area because I have a proposal of my own I'd like to bring forward."
"Nothing has been done, we've been waiting for you."
"Thank-you." Those who had migrated towards the windows moved back to the center as the UNSC HighComm logo floated in the air. Sliding a small disk into a receptor in a chair, Johnson dimmed the lights, furthering the glow that was produced by the holotank. "The last two…engagements, if we can even call them that, with the Forerunners were decided even before the first shot was fired. So far," the image flipped to a view of Esterea, "the Keyes was engaged by at least three enemy capital ships and was destroyed in a matter of minutes as well as the planet being burned. Now, if what General Hockers is saying, the battle over Lambda Prime consisted of a poor colony's fleet of UNSC decommissioned corvettes. Neither one of these show our true strength nor the enemy's true strength. Essentially, we're still at square one in terms of creating a viable tactic to use against them. Therefore, I am proposing we reinforce the Outer Rim with as many fleets as possible up to an arbitrary two-thirds point. From there on out, those planets will need to defend themselves with whatever they can afford or evacuate immediately."
"You want us to just abandon those worlds!" One of the officers spun around and looked wildly into Johnson's eyes.
"If we don't do this, every planet from here to there will be in danger! We can not have our fleets running back and forth to try and defend the next hinterland colony that is requesting support for a battle we-can't-win! If you wish to take yours hip and help, then go ahead, but the UNSC fleets won't be there to back you up." A tense mood fell upon the officers and was only broken by a man who had yet to speak.
"Go ahead with it. General Johnson is correct. Our best hope out winning is by staying back and defending those planets we cannot afford to lose."
"But Admiral-."
"Please, General Nguyen, my mind is made up. Furthermore, I'd like to assign the Spartan squadrons to our largest fleets to give us even more options. General Johnson, I would like you to oversee their operations."
"Yes, sir."
"This meeting is now over, dismissed."

"Where are you going?" Kat sat up in her bed and looked at Will who was fully loaded up.
"Good question. We're leaving in about an hour so I decided to say goodbye." She leaned over a little and flicked a light on next to her bed. White light illuminated the room and Will suddenly looked even taller as his massive hulk sent shadows against every surface.
"Can you tell me what's going? The nurses aren't telling me anything." Will took a deep breath as if to start speaking and then caught it, looking off to his right. "Tell me!" He looked back over and glared for a few seconds.
"He's back and he's already destroyed two planets. The entire UNSC is fleet being mobilized. Right now they're splitting the Spartans up in squads and assigning us to individual ships. Once you're ready to go, you'll join us, assuming nothing happens between now and then." Kat's gaze had drifted down to her feet and it didn't leave. "What's wrong?"
"It's nothing." There was no point in pushing the issue because he knew he would get nowhere.
"If you say so. I need to get going, stay safe and get well."
"Nothing else to do now is there?" He laughed and shook his head before walking out of the room.

Arriving at landing complex Bravo-Two-Niner, Will set his extra bag down and looked around at the other Spartans. A few Hawks had already landed on some of the pads and had their engines running at the smallest amount of power. Off in the distance he could see bright landing lots turning on as even more Hawks were making their final approach. The rest of his squad showed up and in the darkness he could see even more squads grouping together. After about a half an hour of waiting, a small entourage of officers arrived. All of the Spartans saluted and then were at ease.
"I'm Lieutenant General Johnson. I'll be commanding the Spartan Company as a whole. Right now, specifics on your missions are pretty much unknown. You'll be divided up into the different battle groups and then further broken down to assigned ships. You'll be under our command and our command only so if you're going on a mission, it's important and not some captain sending you on a mission he deems important." A final Hawk landed and took up the last of the landing pads. "No need to keep your rides waiting. Good luck and give 'em hell." The Spartans saluted as the Lt. General Johnson left the complex and the soldiers were assigned to their designated Hawk for departure.

If this chapter seems…yucky…I know it is, I had some serious writer's block with this chapter and this is like the fifth version of it.