Chapter 15: Pre-Battle Jitters
UNSC Cruiser Talon, In Slipspace Near Planet Gantrithos
11th Cycle, 5th Division, 3rd Stage, 9th Age of Reclamation (Covenant Holy Calendar)
2120 hours, October 30, 2552 (UNSC Military Calendar)
"ETA to Gantrithos is thirty minutes, Commodore," announced the disembodied voice of Franklin, the Talon's shipboard AI.
Commodore Frank Schmidt yawned as he woke from a short nap in his command chair. "Good, wake the rest of the crew from cryosleep. And let me know when everyone is back at their posts."
"Yes, sir," Franklin replied.
The long Slipspace trip had caused Frank to lose quite a bit of sleep. The trip was just long enough to require the ship to run on a three shift skeleton crew while the rest were put in cryosleep to save resources. The crew that was still awake worked three rotating eight hour shifts with four hour breaks in between. Among those still awake was the entire bridge crew. Hopefully the thirty-seven hours in Slipspace wouldn't take too much of a toll on the crew.
Frank stood up and stretched. He walked around the bridge and saw that Lieutenants Braxton and Ramirez were awake. He nudged Zheng and Rhodes and they groggily woke up.
"How is everyone feeling?" Schmidt asked.
"Fine, sir," the junior officers said in near unison.
"Good," the Commodore said as he made his way back to his command chair. He nervously tapped the armrest as he waited for the crew to be thawed. His pre-battle jitters weren't as bad as they were back at Earth, but that was because he wasn't defending his home anymore. His job now was to make sure his invasion force got to the surface of the planet and fall back. Simple enough.
"Sir, every member of the crew is now awake and at their posts," Franklin suddenly appeared after ten minutes of waiting.
"Excellent," Schmidt said, "Where are the Spartans?"
"Armory B-03, sir," Franklin replied as he pushed his holographic glasses up on his nose.
"Thank you, Franklin," Schmidt nodded at the AI as he stood up and walked out of the bridge.
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The last of the Spartan supersoldiers helped each other don their half ton Mjolnir armor suits in the armory. After almost thirty years of wearing the Mjolnir Mark V & VI armor, they had gotten quite proficient at putting it on. They could now dress a fellow Spartan in less than five minutes when it took technicians nearly an hour to put the armor on a Spartan for the first time.
Commodore Schmidt, like most of Humanity, had never seen the Spartans without armor before, and to see them put the suits on was quite a site. Most of the parts were heavier than Schmidt could ever dream of lifting. The Spartans were much larger than normal Humans; all were around seven feet tall and had nearly four hundred pounds of muscle. Their skin was also very pale. Frank imagined that the Spartans typically didn't get much tanning time while in their armor. Despite their size, he couldn't help but think about how vulnerable they must feel to be outside their armor.
"Officer on deck!" one of the Spartans suddenly shouted when he saw Frank watching them. As one, the seven Spartans stopped whatever they were doing, swiveled around and sharply saluted the Commodore. A few had full armor save for the helmet while the rest were still naked from the waist up. All of them, even the females, had biceps bigger than Schmidt's head. The Spartans were a very intimidating bunch.
"At ease, soldiers," Schmidt said. "I need to speak with Master Chief John-117 for a moment. The rest of you can continue dressing."
A Spartan that was undoubtedly the Master Chief strode up to the Commodore. He held himself with so much pride and honor that Schmidt could have mistaken him for a Fleet Admiral if he hadn't known the Chief's rank already.
"Sir," John saluted the Commodore, who subconsciously returned the gesture.
"It's good to meet you, Master Chief," Schmidt said as he extended his hand to the Chief.
"Likewise, sir," the Master Chief grasped Frank's hand and shook it. To Frank's surprise, John's grip was firm, but no firmer than any other person he had met.
"I assume you've been briefed on the invasion, Master Chief?" Schmidt asked.
"Yes, sir," Master Chief replied as he clasped his hands behind his back. The position made his muscles flex slightly, which further unnerved the Commodore.
"Then you already know that you'll be leading the assault," Schmidt assumed again. John nodded an acknowledgement and Schmidt continued, "Just as a reminder, the brass at HIGHCOM has given you command over all marine and naval forces on the ground, and the Arbiter has given you command over all the Crusader forces on the ground as well. Also, don't forget to pick up Cortana once you get your suit on. She will aid you once you reach the surface. We expect nothing less than your best on this mission, Master Chief."
"Aye, sir," John responded. "The Spartans always go beyond our best to make sure our missions succeed, sir."
"You will make Humanity proud, Chief. Good luck," Schmidt said as he saluted the Chief. John returned the crisp salute and continued to help his fellow Spartans dress.
Frank wished he had nerves of steel like John. Master Chief could charge into battle against overwhelming odds without fear. He obeyed any order given as long as it was a reasonable order. And he led the finest group of soldiers Humanity had ever known. John was the perfect soldier.
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Staff Sergeant Jim Shank watched over his platoon of ODSTs as they loaded up their drop pods for the invasion. This was going to be the biggest invasion Humanity had ever seen. Each ship had at least one platoon of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, or Helljumpers as they were sometimes called, and at least a hundred Pelicans loaded with marines. Not to mention the addition of the Holy Crusaders.
Before the Spartans came along, the ODSTs were considered the best the military had to offer. They were fearless. They had to be to drop from orbit in a small pod into enemy controlled territory. They were always the first ones on the ground.
However, as Sergeant Shank watched his troops pack, he couldn't help but notice how nervous they all looked. A little anxiety was a good thing, it increased adrenaline, but his troops were already past that point. Too much anxiety hinders thinking in the heat of battle. He couldn't blame them though. This was the Prophet homeworld. The war depended on this battle. The fate of the Human race depended upon this battle. Jim had to find some way to calm his soldiers down.
"Roberts, you alright?" Jim asked as he walked up behind the Private and put his hand on the Private's shoulder.
Private Roberts looked back at the Sergeant. "Yeah, boss. What's up?"
"Oh nothing, you guys just seem a little on edge, that's all," Shank replied.
"Yeah, typical pre-battle jitters. We'll be good once we get on the ground. I know I will be," Roberts seemed to be the calmest of them all.
"Well, this is a little more than 'typical' pre-battle jitters," Jim refuted. "We could be in serious trouble if the platoon is this nervous when we hit the ground."
"Don't worry about it boss," Private Roberts reassured. "Once the bullets start flying, all these guys will be thinking about will be kicking some Covenant ass. Kinda sounds like you need to calm down yourself, sir. We'll be fine."
"Yeah," Jim muttered under his breath. "Well, just keep packing. Not much longer till we drop."
"Yes, sir," Roberts saluted and returned to his packing.
Sergeant Shank continued to pace along the drop pod corridor and supervise his troops. Maybe he was overreacting. Maybe he did need to calm down. He got to his drop pod that he had already packed and leaned up against it. He closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. It didn't help. He reached into his pod and pulled a picture of him and his wife off the inside wall of the pod. He thought about his home back in the Alpha Centauri system, and how he hadn't seen it in four years. He took a few minutes to stare at the picture and finally calmed himself down.
"We'll be fine," Jim repeated Roberts's words.
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Holy Crusader Flagship Perpetual Devotion, In Slipspace Near Planet Gantrithos
"Prepare your warriors, Kado," the Arbiter said via comm. link. "We will exit the alternate dimension in three units, and launch the invasion force shortly after."
"Right away, Arbiter," Kado 'Toromee replied.
"One more thing, your warriors get the honor of leading our army in battle," the Arbiter announced.
"Thank you, Arbiter," 'Toromee said with a respectful nod.
"You deserve it. Make the Crusaders proud. And make the Humans proud to fight alongside us. Good luck," the Arbiter nodded in return and disappeared from the screen.
Kado put his helmet on and decided to stop at the Perpetual Devotion's temple before heading to the armory. He walked in the large room and saw a robed figure kneeling on the altar in the middle of the temple. 'Toromee slowly approached the figure and waited for the figure to notice him. It wasn't long before the kneeling Sangheili stood up and removed the hood from his head.
"Forgive me if I'm interrupting, Keldorx," "Toromee kindly said. "But do you have time to offer a blessing?"
"Never will I not have time, Kado," Keldorx said as he extended his arms to 'Toromee. 'Toromee knelt in the middle of the altar and Keldorx put is hands on the Field Master's armored shoulders.
"Oh, Gods of might and wonder, bless this warrior so he may better lead our armies," the priest began. "Guide his blade in this time of war, and guide his soul for the rest of his ages. Keep him under your eyes so he may return safely home."
Keldorx then touched the top of 'Toromee's head as the warrior bowed low. Kado touched his head to the metal floor and rose to his feet.
"Many thanks, Keldorx," 'Toromee said.
"Good luck, Kado," the priest replied.
Satisfied with the blessing, the Field Master finally made his way to the armory. Once there, he saw that his warriors were already donning their black armor. He paced down the center of the armory.
"Warriors, we have been chosen by the Arbiter to lead the Holy Crusaders into battle," the Field Master bellowed. The warriors in the armory responded with a roar while pumping their fists in the air.
"This is the greatest honor you will receive," 'Toromee continued. "To lead our army in open war on the home planet of the traitorous Prophets." This was followed by another roar.
"The Army of Swift Revenge will be known as the greatest the Holy Crusaders ever had. Every warrior here will be forever remembered in Sangheili, Unggoy, and Lekgolo history from this cycle forward. Now, recite your new oaths of battle!"
"We spill our blood today to protect those who we wrongfully slaughtered," the warriors said in unison.
"Who is our enemy?"
"Those who once fought alongside us. The Prophets, and all who follow them shall be destroyed!"
"Who are our allies?"
"Together with the Humans we shall cleanse the galaxy. For all they have suffered by our hands, we owe our allegiance to them."
"The enemy will be ruthless and unrelenting. Show them no mercy, for you shall receive none."
"By bullet and blade we will strike them down until none remain standing."
"The Great Journey was a lie. We may never know the path to true salvation."
"Our faith is all we need. It guides our blades and our souls."
"Victory is at hand; this war of rage will soon be won."
"The Covenant will fall and peace will be restored in the galaxy."
"The Holy Crusaders will not be stopped!" 'Toromee finished the oath with a loud roar. "Finish preparing and make your way to the Phantoms. The invasion will commence in approximately two units."