They stripped her bare, and in that moment the Covenant, the Alliance Marines, and the ODST were finally given an answer to a question that had evaded them all for either nearly three decades or half an hour. They stripped her bare and even the Elites, with their lack of knowledge of human pleasantries and social constructs, cringed and looked away after they had seen enough.
They held her down and stripped her bare and she felt violated in every form.
She didn't even make a noise as her eyes shot death at those that did the deed.
MJOLNIR was a set of armor, a mix and matchable system that could be, even by one person (often the wearer) upgraded, retrofitted, and handled. The actual armored parts of it, plates and metal, helmet and gauntlets and boots and every piece of material that had cost the value of a spaceship were all shed off of Six at gun point and by force. Not by her own hands until she was left with nothing but her skinsuit that hid nothing of her form save the bare skin.
It was if she was forcibly molted, the arrangement of her armor rearranged on the floor like a body in that makeshift containment cell's block, outside the glass walls of the cell they shared.
Of the many mysteries that fell onto the planet Altis, she was one of them.
And yet her disrobing of MJOLNIR had answered a question that the Alliance Marines and Officers there had not yet asked but held by those not from that world.
Usze Tahamee had stood across the humans in another glass cell across the hall, several Elites also thrown in there with them, bare without even a cloth. He refused to sit. Sitting was a state of weakness and he did not need to show weakness here.
"Hmph." He grunted, now knowing an answer that he perhaps wouldn't have known in a normal world, looking into that glass hall at the woman within the armor. "Only human." His face continued to bleed, no treatment given, but it wouldn't kill him. It'd leave a scar.
They were the first prisoners to come to that waterlogged city's makeshift mass containment center: a giant emporium meant for fishermen to auction off their catches. It smelt of salt and dankness, but when the equipment arrived to erect giant glass boxes to throw them into, the smell had been hidden behind what JD could only discern as a HAZMAT styled ventilated scrub down. That wasn't what he was trying to deduce however.
What had really stayed his thoughts before he had to bear witness to Six being forced to shed the fortress from her skin was why they were being treated the same as the Covenant. Just behind that question had been why the Covenant hadn't just been shot dead by these other humans, these other "Marines".
She had walked back into the cell, eyes down, head hung low as her arms crossed each other and she held herself. She felt naked, and she wasn't that far off from being so.
JD felt bad however when this thought crossed by his mind: If he had been an Insurrectionist that had come across a Spartan and captured them, would he not want the same measures of protection? They had given him the courtesy of his own modesty however after a very through pat down. He cooperated, but it meant very little when Six hadn't been. All that he had been left with was his emptied combat BDU pants and his Marine Olive Drab shirt tucked into it. Even his belt had been taken, his dog-tags taken as well. Six however, had none.
His body was a weapon, he knew that, he filled out as well as any ODST and it showed in his arms and worn hands, core, maybe not a pristine set of muscled abs, but he had been full-bodied. His form however could not bear comparison to what Six's current state told:
The abs of her suit had, at first, seemed like they were molded and formed onto the suit, however a cursory glance had rendered that a wrong assumption.
It was not male gaze which had made JD run his vision down her body once. No, it was the curious gaze of a UNSC service member who had been given the opportunity to see a Spartan as they were: human.
She had almost unnaturally been formed and tight, her own muscles framed by her body suit toned and bulging and certainly screamed of threatening. He tried not to stare but it was impossible. Out of her armor the difference in height was still skewed toward her but not by much, her skin pale as all hell, despite its natural, dark complexion. Not naturally, not healthily. How often that armor was taken off her, he thought. Judging by the way she held herself, unsure of what to do, having that armor off made her feel as if naked, it hadn't been an often occurrence he imagined. Her hair was defiantly dark, her eyes shockingly blue, almost unnaturally. Her hair was long, dirty and uncleaned and uncared for, cascading over her shoulders and in front of her face as she fidgeted to clear it of the strands. Her face, twitching, contorting, running through emotions, the cell, tactically evaluating where she was. Hers was a very feminine face, lips thin, high cheeks, small nose.
She was uncomfortable, under threat, and unknowing of what to do as she moved herself into a corner, a rudimentary bench along the wall that couldn't be broken or toyed with to create any sort of instrument or tool.
JD had naturally taken off his pants.
The first emotion that he had seen on her face after her very warranted unease walking back into the cell had been shock at him, eyes going wide before getting defensive. JD had worked his pants off fast however, backing off into his own corner, boxer-clad ass against the glass. One hand had been up at her pleading, his face twisting into panic, the other had offered his pants.
She rose a thin eyebrow before understanding, raising her own hands calmingly at him. He was thankful she understood, any hit from her in the chest region would've agitated the plasma burn.
"No… no, it's fine." She said softly, uneasily. "I'm just… unnerved." She said it distantly, but JD understood, nodding, pants going back on, looking over his shoulder to five or so of those "Alliance" Marines looking at him and her in between documenting and taking photos of her armor.
"I-" she started slowly, sitting down, using one sleeved hand to throw as much of her hair behind her head and shoulders. "Understand why they would do this."
For the brief second, they had opened that glass door that allowed access to this cell to get her back in, a blast of sound and Covenant screaming for the head of the humans that now captured them had came in. This cell was dampened of sound from the outside, and the silence inside would've been maddening. The two of them had thrived via quiet however. It allowed them to think as they looked over the odd armor of the Marines before them, seeing the insignias on their head gear. A split arch with three stars below them.
Six had done Insurrectionist ops, she had made entire militia groups disappear and yet she had never seen that type of insignia before. Neither had JD. None of what they saw felt or heard could be remotely described to as familiar, and being treated like this was worrying, disconcerting.
They avoided eye contact with the Elites across from them, and the Elites did the same, however from the brief moments Six had paid attention during her violation, she had seen the cells around them filled per species, as best they could without overflowing.
Words whispered, Marines speaking candidly, her hearing could tell. These people did not know who the Covenant were.
JD had come to the same conclusion.
How nice it would've been, he thought, to not know what the Covenant was.
The tallest building of the Altis Colony had been the planetary headquarters of the Aquasola Corporation that was present on the planet. On a world that had already been developed and occupied desalination of water was nice in a drought, however otherwise costly and inefficient compared to proper recycling and conservation of water in industry and consumer goods. This was true for Earth or Terra Nova. However desalination of water on Altis, who had no shortage of water as an oceanic planet, and having it shipped out to the colonies along the Attican Traverse was a more realistic solution for those without water resources.
Altis was known for being a reservoir for a parched human frontiersman, but today that would change. That much David Anderson could tell as he made his Command Post on one of the top floors. Object Alpha had touched down close enough to the Altis Colony that clear and worthwhile observation could be observed with nothing more than powered binoculars.
The rest of the city had been co-opted into a giant military firebase, every open area not destroyed by the initial tsunami that swept in and roared through the colony: every building with enough space set up for operations or containment and HAZMAT for every single species that they got a jump on and pacified.
In a normal first contact situation, if there was one, there would be more formality, less man handling, however this situation was… extra ordinary.
For all intents and purposes these new aliens had not acted as if that them, the humans, had been new. They were familiar to them even, and on their tongues hatefully spun, as some fireteams came to know, the name of their species was yelled at them: Human.
And they responded with lethal force.
They weren't mindless like drones, and they weren't striking out in fear. They were intelligent, capable of warfare and technical marvels as the purple and pink ships flew in an airspace around Alpha and the other notable pieces of debris of their make that had come down.
Object Charlie, the grey and black ship that had been obviously destroyed in battle, its wreck had stayed in orbit, outside of gravity's pull, and the SSV Vladivostok had already been deploying EVA crews to contain that wreckage. An easy job, even with the radiation and inherent danger of battlefield wrecks, compared to the mess that was happening planetside.
The immediate debris field of note that had matched Object Alpha, or had come from Object Alpha, had covered the area the size of the old American state of Hawaii. The only solace that any place that the survivors of Alpha's wreck had been able to take however, and to Anderson's benefit, that there was little land to effectively gather on, and more often then not they had been collected and returned to Alpha via its hanger bays above water or on the surface of it itself.
There were still notably large islands that debris and survivors did come upon, as was where the two human survivors of that debris field had come from and that had been the complicated part.
Alliance Marines had touched down when they could, and they met, gun to gun, firefight to firefight, a union of aliens that did not want their help and seemed to want them all dead.
Combat casualties had been in the dozens already. Mostly wounded, but some KIA, weapons that could only be compared to the ancient reports of the Geth by the Quarians. Pure energy fired, plasma weapons, and, when the first scans were made, an impossible truth revealed:
Not one speck of Element Zero among any of it. From the smallest pistol to the wreck of Alpha itself, all of it devoid of something so integral to space flight.
That did not mean them untouched by those weapons powered by Eezo, and soon enough Marine fireteams had reported their first successful engagements. Some of the Marine leads had wanted to push on, but Anderson had kept that want down. This was First Contact, not a declaration of war. He had made Commander Ryder swear on that.
"These unknowns, they seem to be keeping a defensive perimeter around Alpha and extending no further. Their recovering personnel and equipment from the sea and bringing them back to it."
Anderson had peered through his binoculars and commented to his staff. A sniper also perched on the window of that conference room also confirming with a nod.
"Those shuttles, definitely military types. Both have notable turrets and gun ports."
There were hundreds in the air, grounding Alliance shuttle traffic down to outside of their range, and so avoiding the risk of stranding Marines he had made the call to evacuate all Marine deployments to the islands that were nearby and set up their own exclusion perimeter.
"They're moving back in, not out." Anderson was there on the ground on Shanxi. When his Marines had to move back, the Turians had filled in without pause, and it was a sound military maneuver that anyone with any sort of tactical command would've made if aggression was their aim. "They're not interesting in engaging us. This is all in self-defense."
It wasn't as much as an epiphany as much as it was an observation.
But even then, self-defense didn't seem right, not when reports from the front talked of such beasts like the giant apes or the worm like abominations with giant green cannons on their arms.
Still they were holding back, not pressing the attack, and that was why Anderson didn't feel threatened being so exposed in that tower.
"Casualties?" He asked aloud. One of his Radio Transmissions Officers, an RTO, responded back.
"56 and rising. 20 confirmed KIA."
Most of the KIAs had come from shot down shuttles, the rest: burned by plasma or shot with strange, weaponized pink Crystals that had combined and then exploded.
Space-to-ground bombardment wasn't within the MO, otherwise Anderson would've called for that already. That was the state of his mind however, caught between First Contact and Conflict. Still when the order was given for the Marines to pull back, so too had the aliens. A staring match to be sure as the rest of the Fifth Fleet stayed in orbit and either enforced the blockade, started combing the debris field, or kept the evacuation of Altis's meek several hundred thousand population going. The civilian freighters that had come to Perugia's aid had now been tasked with ferrying civilian evacuees off planet and to Arcturus Station for relocation and temporary housing. The Department of Colonial Affairs would have to shell out insurance by the millions to reimburse the colonists of Altis, however for the immediate future given the circumstances, Altis was off limits.
Shaw, given purview of ground operations, had made the orders clear as soon as the Marines pulled back: "Contain the threat, deescalate by avoiding confrontation, and capture those who are alive and have fired upon us."
Any indication that these new contacts had picked up Hackett's declaration of intent and greetings was nill, and that meant Commander Ryder had played it by ear.
Anderson had detested the fact that it had been Ryder out on the field given his record and not his XO, whom he had been grooming for months, however she had been back on Earth finishing the last of her leave. Ryder was abrasive, but effective, and so according to the tactical map set up for Anderson, it meant he and his assigned Marine fireteam remained on the island after they had dropped off the two humans.
If he wasn't going to be the first one to shake hands with an alien, Anderson grimly thought, he would be the first to be a victor over them.
"How's our prisoner count coming along?" Anderson asked again as he went to the opposite side of the room, a view of the fish market below being peered down on. The RTO responded just as fast. It felt particularly cruel to refer to those captured as prisoners: as in the Alliance was subjugating them, however there was no other word for it.
"Sixty five and counting. Five total different species we have among them."
"Out of what?"
"Eight observed." The RTO had slowly reconsidered his words as they left his mouth. There was a technicality. "Well, nine, given our two humans downstairs."
"Any identification on them?" Anderson pressed, his arm going alight with an orange, holographic interface: on his Omni-tool's UI a video feed of their cell had been displayed: the two humans idly waiting as best they could in their circumstances. The male had his back against the wall, dozing, the female: stripped down to what had been some sort of thermal underlay for her incredibly heavy armor, she was pacing back and forth in the small space, like a caged lion eyeing all those who came past.
"We found a pair of dog-tags on the male. Info reads as a "J. J. Durante. We ran his numbers and name through AWOL listings, but nothing came up… that and the service numbers are so far out of serial. That's not the most interesting part however-"
"UNSC?"
Anderson had been given a picture of those dog-tags as well, shown on that orange tinted screen. On one side of the tags that hadn't been his biographical details was a symbol he had never seen before, labeled with four letters along a banner. A bird of prey had been perched over a gridded world.
"It doesn't match any known mercenary or splinter groups commander, and quite frankly, it seems a little too military to be any one of them."
"But their both obviously trained. So where did they come from? One of the human supremacy groups?"
Human supremacy advocacy groups had been a dime a dozen since the First Contact War and the Skyllian Blitz, but most had acted more politically, not willing to go gun to gun with any of the Citadel Species or those left out. Maybe, Anderson thought, that these had been disenfranchised Marines. The armor of the female had made sense then. Exo-suit technology had been outdated in humanity's past: expensive and unwieldy to use, however when applied correctly would give any run of the mill human the ability to rough up a few aliens.
"It'd make sense." The sniper chimed in in a breath. "Word over the comms is that we've got at least eighty KIA aliens on the island they were picked up according to Commander Ryder's team."
What?!
"Just those two alone?" Even in the middle of first contact with multiple alien species, it was always men that seemed like the monsters in outer space. It was fair however. They had the most eminent questions to be asked, and they did speak their language.
In the distance, sounds of gunfire and explosions had persisted, but they had died down as the hive that had been Object Alpha seemed to recall all but the smallest of aerial contacts: most likely fighters to keep up patrol.
Questions came later, Anderson reminded himself as he pressed against the window and looked out. "This is Commander Anderson to all Marine Actuals and Commander Ryder. How copy on enemy resistance?"
"Please! Please don't kill me!"
A cynical frontiersman of space might've said that this was the best response anyone could ever get when experiencing First Contact. It wasn't as glorious or momentous as Alec Ryder thought it'd be. He figured more flag waving, mountains to climb, or at least, hand shaking.
Instead what he got was a short, squat, bipedal alien with a triangular pack on it, tubes running from it to its mouth. It's voice was scratchy, high, almost like a child. It was very obviously in fear when Ryder had peered into that tipped over shuttle on the beach, a hole in its cockpit made by some superheated plasma, and found it among the survivors.
Perhaps more shocking than that was that it said it in English.
"Shiiiieeet, wha-?"
A Marine had vocalized the obvious confusion as Ryder reached into the transport and pulled the creature out with two hands.
"Please! Don't eat me human! Leave my body whole! Don't mulch me alive! Oh please no!"
Ryder raised his eyebrow behind his helmet, Lancer assault rifle tucked away on his back. They had forced the aliens from this island, but not without casualties or damage, his left thigh having taken a green energy bolt directly, burning, then numbing him as he was caught without cover. Some men had faired worse, their kinetic barriers or biotic shields having failed them as if they hadn't been on at all. The force on that island however was unorganized, obviously still reeling from their planet fall and their engagement with the humans that he had delivered to the Altis Colony.
"What? Those guys eat you? They cannibal or something?" A Marine had helped Ryder off the wreckage with the alien, not needing any bindings as it quaked in its own short body.
"Stow it Marine," He had started, bringing the being down and into the cover on that beach, sand stained colors of blood. Purple and deep reds, their corpses taken by the ocean waves and dragged out. Debris had littered every inch of the ocean in that area, and the bodies didn't help. And on that sandy beach the Alliance Marines had taken firing positions as the shuttles and transports took off back toward Object Alpha, having run them off. Their rifles had been cooling, barrels hot and heavy. Curiosity had killed the cat and yet some of them had reached down and grabbed the weapons and bodies left behind. A giant hammer, the size of two men, was left behind, blades on one side of the head, the other emanating some sort of energy that repulsed any surface that came near. "Bag them up! If I get a misfire that's on you!"
His yelled had disturbed the squat creature even more and they only settled when Ryder had grabbed both of its shoulders. "Oh woe is me! Darkness takes me in the form of this heretic!"
To be fair he and his fireteam had killed maybe a dozen of these aliens on the way here, and judging on how they were ordered around by the squid-headed aliens and the furred apes, they were lowly grunts.
More and more, just based on how these aliens acted in battle alone, this seemed to be a military alliance. Perhaps these things were slaves.
"Calm down. I'm not gonna kill you if you don't give me a reason to." His helmet had come off and into the crook of his arm. "Now who are you, and what's been going on."
"No! No! This Unggoy refuses to converse with a dirty human! Just kill me!"
The M3 Predator had been barely unholstered when the Grunt cried out again.
"Wait! Wait! Wait! This one knows much!"
A curious species to say the least. Who knew cowardice could become a species trait and not one of the individual's. At least he had a name for them now: Unggoy.
"Got another prisoner!" Ryder yelled out to his Fireteam, a Marine picking up the Unggoy like a giant teddy bear and back to the tree line to the shuttle DZ. Most of the prisoners which had been collected that day had come from this horse shoe shaped island- now most of the combat seen by Alliance Marines on the ground too.
They were unhinged, these aliens, as if they needed no introduction to these presumably new enemies that had been humanity. If anything they'd been doing this all their lives.
"This is Commander Anderson to all Marine Actuals and Commander Ryder. How copy on enemy resistance?"
The earpiece in his helmet rung out. "This is Ryder. I've got the island covered beach to beach with my Marines and we've just pushed out the last. I'll be establishing forward observation."
"Copy all Ryder. But remember my orders are to not go any further."
"I'll try Anderson, but you know how a battle goes. If we have to take it to them-"
"I know how you are Ryder, you'd want to put your boots on that damned wreckage and take on whoever's in there but stay put. We might need you for HVT extraction."
"No promises."
"Of course." There was a distinct pause as debris still continued to fall from the sky. "Did you see anything about the human female and male you captured?"
For ten seconds Ryder had come into the clearing and observed that armored woman and the alien fight, throwing punches that would've broken lesser men, fighting in a way that had been too practiced, too familiar to both of them. They fought like masters, and they fought like they had been at war.
The male too, he had held his ground despite it all, not being distracted by his comrade squaring off against the squid-jawed alien, pumping lead into the forest and into aliens expertly. His time to acquire target and squeeze of rounds had been practiced and applied, familiarity with gear something that could only come with time. Both their helmets had been worn and battle scarred, and he had made sure to them back to the HQ.
Further evidence had been the mass of bodies that they had left behind.
"They're both military. Not regular grunts either, they're too hot and high speed to be."
"Yeah, they look it. Anything else?"
Throughout he and his Marines had found traces of the battle that went further than bodies. They found bullet casings. Bullet casings! Scattered weapons that were obviously firearms all bearing the designations of "Misriah Armory" or "Property of the UNSC". The biggest piece of such gear had been the overturned and waterlogged transport aircraft that had been upside down and hung from a tree, its turret on the chin askew. Throughout weapon hard cases had been found, and, within its bay, something disheartening: a small pouch of dog tags.
They all varied in style, either new formatting of dog tags or just hold overs from the years, but one of those dog tags had included a birthdate on its tag. The year on it had read this:
2510.
"They're fish outta water. Treat 'em like first contacts."
A ship's bridge hadn't been as entirely useful when the ship had been grounded, but it was still a command center if anything, even if the lights were on the verge of going out. Still communications throughout the ship had been resumed from it and the beginning of damage reports had started to come in. Needless to say that when the damage report on the secondary Pinch fusion reactor had come through Shipmistress Karonee had personally gone down there to the cavernous power section to see it with her own eyes, the maintenance Phantom which had been allotted to the engineers to get around that giant open space where the generator was ferrying her, looking out of its bay.
It glowed like a white star between the two gravity manipulators, a constant fusion reaction combing through that star, albeit dimmer than how it usually was.
"Faster Than Air reports that we do have enough coolant to sustain nominal power and operations for several weeks, and the reactor itself has taken little damage. However, our fuel reserves are low, both tritium and deuterium." A Sangheili translator had reiterated to his shipmistress, conveying the words the Huragok in that bay could not.
"Enough to fend off an attack?" She asked most importantly.
The engineer Sangheili had an answer for that, the reactor itself humming lowly as if hungry. It had helped that the engines and repulsors were no longer a factor, nor were the power diverted to the shields that kept the ship in a breathable atmosphere. "If we divert some of the spare fusion reactors from the Phantoms and Spirits, we should be able to power weapons and shields independently for a time, but we need to start recovery operations in repair deck. See if there's anything we could use that was intended for the support fleet's maintenance."
The Phantom swooped around and peering out Karonee had seen the engineering corps with the Huragok crawling around like ants, trying to keep the reactor stable and adjusted for their situation.
"Is this ship not equipped with fabrications for a hydroprocessing planet?"
The engineer nodded as it looked at its Huragok. "Yes, I believe so. We should have the plans at the very least, if not just the raw material to start working on it."
There was water all around them to siphon and process, and that would be key. "So that should be any spare hands focus, getting one set up just outside. We'll be able to at least keep ourselves running in the long term, that is if those blasted humans don't try to move in on us."
"It shall be done." With an affirming nod the Phantom was brought back around to its dock Karonee stepping off as the Phantom went back off. The entire ship had been tilted at an ever so slight angle that kept her wary of her foot placement, but the gravity lifts had still accounted for them as she stepped off into one of the pathways and was carried back to the hallways of the ship. It had taken her several years to get used to the size of her CCS-class battlecruiser, the Blood of Union. Even when 2/3rds of the Solace had been lopped off it was still twenty-times the size, and quite frankly her feet getting sore was the last thing she needed.
Still, the walking was needed. To see a Shipmaster or Shipmistress at all was meant that there was someone still in control, and she had taken control. As the masses of the Solace saw her on the halls, they knew that the Covenant was still in order, and regulation and rank still mattered.
Those that hadn't been broken or bleeding went back to their duty stations, ready to fight, and those whose duty stations were lost had prepped for deployment outside of the ship to help rescue and recovery.
She was without an XO right now however, and Usze had gone missing when the ship hit.
She was able however. Able enough to keep commanding a ship, even several million strong.
"Communications up yet?" She asked as she returned to the bridge. For a bunch of Spec Ops jockies, Usze's men had been competent after one or two moments of run down. Usze hadn't been an officer in Solace's detachment for long as she had learned, but he had obvious talent. More befitting an operator than a leader, but he had made it work.
"Yes shipmistress! We've established a battlenet through our remaining nodes, using the transports as relays."
"Very good. High priority message to all on comms. No encryption. We'll let whoever these humans are hear it."
No question, no remorse.
The Elite raised a finger signaling she was clear, a chair for Shipmistresses found and put on that top tier of the bridge, she spoke.
"This is the Fleetmaster Seylu Karonee, Commander of the Fleet of Shaded Justice, Shipmistress of the Blood of Union. I have assumed command of A Long Night of Solace and its remaining complement. All able units are to report to your section leaders at once, and all section leaders are to report to Solace's secondary bridge immediately for briefing and standing orders. Let it be known that even when we've been shot down, this ship will not fall victim to these heretical humans who dare gloat over us now. If they shall come, we shall do whatever is necessary to enact our retributions. We shall yet see the Consecration of the Great Journey! All that matters now however is keeping ourselves alive today! The humans shall have their day, but for now, we need to look inwards, so pay no heed to those above."
A raw roar of the Sangheili in the Bridge had echoed, and as she waited for it to stop echoing, she prepared herself to say it again in the basic human language.
When she delivered it any Alliance VIs or linguists who were trying to decipher any sort of language that had been overheard on the ground or over the air waves had been floored. It was a confirmation to a detail that Marines up and down the exclusion zone had reported:
These aliens spoke the language of man.
"Is that a declaration of hostile intent?" Captain Shaw had heard the statement on all comms, said in English. English. It had been the common language of mankind at that point, recognized by most aliens just by sound alone. Some within those alien societies had all around declared basic English as the "Human" language, but still some planets and nations had their language strains that patches to the translator software in many devices could provide.
What had been terrifying however was that no translator software was needed. Every linguistics officer doubled checked: the message that came through was the pure sound and audio, not modified by translation software. It meant a familiarity. Friends close, enemies closer. That was the implication.
Words, spoken in a familiar tongue, but alien all the same.
It'd been several hours since Ryder had set up his observation point and it went against the contrary. The unknown ships had started to pull back even more, and even though they had skirted the effective range of any of the Alliance Marines, none had fired upon them, minding their own business as they scanned the waters for survivors and life pods. Ryder had been left idle so he had come back to the colony, interrogating and questioning any alien who would talk to him. Save for a few hold outs, none would as night fell.
Shaw's direct communications had been with Anderson and Hackett, coordinating the response to this planetfall. Hackett had murmured to himself for moments before giving his analysis. "I don't believe so Captain. Not with their actions. Have the Marines reported any hostilities?"
"Anderson?" Shaw bounced down to the planet's surface. The Perugia had taken point over the ground op coordination and Shaw knew what he was doing. The man had been a commander during the Blitz, organizing in much the same way during Torfan. Fortunately for him he hadn't been claimed as the butcher.
"Last engagement was half an hour ago. They're being cautious about hitting us and we're doing the same." Anderson said. He had made trips to the front in the meanwhile, coming back to that tower at a loss of what to do. The problem was that these aliens did not even have First Contact in mind, and with that, the only step that the Alliance could possibly take was to press the assault, but there was no reason to. Even with Marines dead, they too had taken the lives, taken prisoner, the aliens that had come. "What's our move? We don't have anything to do without proper communications, and whoever is in charge over there isn't playing ball."
An impasse. Damnable, but maybe what everyone needed. Let time be the bridge. Neither them or these newly marooned aliens were going anywhere, and eventually someone would bridge the gap willingly.
Shaw had a thought. "Did they just translate our language just now? Or have they known of us, observed us, to know? There's no way they've done it that quick, it took the Turians a week, even with Citadel tech.
Suddenly a comm officer pinged in from the ship closest to the local Relay: SSV Seoul.
"Sir! We have a communication inbound over the relays. Ident reads as from the Citadel."
Hackett nodded. "To me."
"Aye sir."
First Contact like this could never be hidden, and so in the same breath that Hackett had been alerted from Shaw about Object Alpha and its debris field suddenly appearing over Altis, the Admiral had made recommendations for the Systems Alliance Parliament to bounce a message to the Council that a First Contact scenario was underway.
It's not like the Alliance had gained anything about hiding First Contact anyway they assumed, and they needed to gain favor within the Council. Any transparency would've looked good when they were looked over for final deliberations for their member status on the Council. It was better then an STG Team or a Spectre saying that humanity had introduced and harbored a new species.
The message had been static-filled, but it was readable, transmissions sent near a Mass Relay often had been less than crystal. It meant that whoever sent this message had been bouncing from Relay to Relay inbound. Before Hackett had even opened comms he suspected the Council was sending a representative ship their way to Altis.
What they had neglected to alert the Council about however was how tense the situation was and how complicated it was getting between open hostilities and the presumed familiarity every single alien they had seen with humans.
It was a simple voice message sent in a hurry, spoken by a female voice:
"This is the Asari Ship Open Arms, coming on behalf of the Citadel First Contact Ministry. We are heading a small task force to you now to your coordinates, please remain in observation and limit diplomatic contact with your encountered species. We look forward to assisting humanity in introducing a new species to the galaxy at large."
It was tone deaf, ignorant of the situation, but they weren't to blame. This was something that the Council had to see for themselves. Still it had a certain arrogance to it.
"How large was the task force that the Citadel sent for the Yahg? Does anyone remember?" Anderson was reminded of history.
"Records say a few small frigates, mostly with diplomatic and xenologists."
Hackett had felt something in his gut, a buzz on his fingertips. True, all the other aliens were fair game, and perhaps they did need help for them, but there were two humans in that mess that had been treated as First Contacts, and if the Council had implicated humans in something like this... Complications that they didn't need. Humans needed to know human secrets, and perhaps, the two humans were the Alliance's to solve. Having two humans under the scope as if they were First Contact species, while also simultaneously applying for a seat on the Council, wasn't a good image.
What would be worse if it was found out that those two humans, though unlikely, were responsible for this whole mess
There was no need for the Council to deal with a species already known to them.
"We need to get those two humans out of the area and back to Arcturus. We can't have them mixed up into whatever the Council will stir up here." Hackett's resolve was urgent, pleading.
"…They're inbound fast Admiral. We don't have a ship to split off without attracting attention, and the civilian freighters just jumped." An ensign advised.
Anderson knew better. Sure, the solution he was thinking of would throw an entire engineer corps' timeline off, but there was no reason it wouldn't be a reasonable answer. In fact, it was warranted. "We do have a ship that'll do what we need."
It was a new frigate, a first in the class, developed jointly with the Turian Hierarchy as a message of trust and cooperation between them and the Alliance. It was fast, it was quiet, and it could leave without anyone noticing: especially inbound Citadel traffic.
Hackett knew what Anderson was implying. That ship was parked within the Killimanjaro's bays right now. "Right. Someone get First Lieutenant Moreau and any of the crew slated for Anderson's ship to ready stations right now."
Anderson had made for the elevator after assigning an adjunct commander in his place. "Commander Ryder, report to the prisoner holding cells immediately, we need to exfiltrate ASAP."
Same cell at least. A small concession, seeing as so many prisoners had just been taken, they among them. But it made sense in just pure categorical organization, they were both human and not currently at each other's neck.
At the current moment however, it was just her.
She had looked away for a minute, and she had found JD slumped against the wall asleep peacefully. At first she had been concerned that they were pumping sleeping gas into their cell to pacify them, but none had come. She had internally raised an eyebrow. For being in such a situation under duress he had fallen asleep quite easily.
Her "shoes", or at least, what had covered her feet with her undersuit, had tapped him on the shins as he saw on the floor and dozed. He had woken up as men of action always do, with a sharp inhale and a slight seizing of his body, but he hadn't woken up in his bunk on the UNSC Savannah, and realized that whatever was happening had still been happening, and it wasn't a dream.
He raised an eyebrow at her in turn, she tilting her head at him in question. He shrugged.
Sleep always came to him easy. He had a few theories why, multiple doctors and medics suggesting reasons, but in time he had found it to be an asset. He had his own version of cryosleep and it had come in the form of a nap.
The shrug was an answer enough as Six let him have his sleep. She wouldn't be as welcoming of any rest. She had been trained to be on edge with the Covenant so close, but these were extraordinary conditions as she fought against her body to pound on that glass, pick up a shard when it broke, and then slit the necks of anything that hadn't been human around her.
She wouldn't get that chance today.
Hours, it'd been hours and the sky above had darkened through the skylights. That was when they came for them in the dark, Marines in blue armor stacking outside of their door, it opened. It was the same "N7" that had originally detained them. His armor had come back worse, and the tell-tale signs of plasma scorching had been on it. At least someone had been killing Covenant.
He came with a team, and those in the cells around them had cried for their heads in typical Covenant fashion, banging against the sturdy glass walls.
Again Six had nudged JD, and he had woken up, sprung to his feet as the doors to their cage slid open. Ryder had been more than observant that Six had curled her fists. "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but we're moving you two."
"Why are we being held?" Six had asked instead with all the animosity she could give without having a gun raised at her.
Ryder had straightened his lips. The real answer was that it was for everyone's safety. "You two turned up in the middle of something big, and until we can find out what's going we're keeping you in detainment."
"Why can't we just tell you then what's going on?"
Her tone raised, and the same metal bindings came out from one of the Marines. Six's gaze had seen the gear, the equipment they brought. Regular cuffs had been there as well. Ryder had waved the Marine down from his precaution however. "Because we can't confirm who you are. Let's go. We can sort all of this out in a different place. Your hands for cuffs."
Across the rows of cells Usze had been woken up by the Elite in that cell that had taken watch as the rest slept. Things were getting interesting and the Spec Ops Elite wouldn't dare miss it.
Six had glared at the N7 dead on. Her eyes had been on fire, piercing blue, a rage behind her that was diluted into pure combat ability. Without that vent for it it boiled within her, especially when she had no idea what was going on. "I'll walk without them."
"Cuffs or bindings. And we'll have to carry you with the bindings."
JD had looked at her with tired eyes, and she talked back with her own. The ODST hadn't liked the idea anymore but slowly, reluctantly, he offered his own hands forward. So too did Six then.
The least they could as they were lead out was stare down any Covenant that looked at them as well, and Six had made sure to burn her piercing eyes into Usze's memory as the Elite looked at her be escorted out.
As they left the makeshift jail hall they were eventually rushed into an awaiting shuttle: there a dark man with a very obvious officer's cap was waiting, sitting across them, Ryder alone joining as the rest of the Marines peeled off and went back to their duties in a rush.
"So, you two are our VIPs today huh? Consider yourself lucky, you're going to be passengers on my ship's first shakedown run."
He was a man of rank, a pistol at his hip and age on his skin. JD had meekly raised his hands in a saluting motion, chest high, as best he could, informal at best, but the man had known what a superior was like. Six offered no such pleasantries.
As the door had sealed and closed the shuttle had taken off fast as the man looked them up and down.
"I'm Commander Anderson of the Systems Alliance, have you been treated well so far?"
Six had felt the vibrations of flight in her bones, her senses fine-tuned. It wasn't as fast as a Pelican, this shuttle. She looked around that space before nodding at him. "Yes, Commander. Who are you?"
Anderson had confusion pass by his face. "Commander Anderson, as I sai-"
"No." Six shook her head. "Systems Alliance. I've never heard of planetary government with that name, even amongst you Insurrectio-"
JD had been seated shoulder to shoulder with her, his left elbow poking her urgently. She looked over and he had mouthed a "no", his own head shaking back and forth subtly. He didn't think that these men had been insurrectionists. Didn't even think they had been their own planetary government.
"You're not prisoners you know." Their cuffs had vibrated the sound of metal as Anderson said so. He had went to his omni-tool and Ryder had immediately disagreed, before he could articulate the two cuffs had unlocked. Ryder had basically thrown himself onto Anderson's side of the aisle, making sure to immediately unlock his sidearm and place it in his lap. "Don't mind Commander Ryder. He's been in combat for the last few hours. He's jittery, right?"
The greying man gruffed. Sure.
Six had rubbed the skin that had been covered by the cuffs on her wrist, JD doing the same being nodding once at Anderson.
"You're welcome."
In his ear piece a voice could be overheard. "Joker here, Captain. Interrupting my beauty sleep? Come on we just got off the exercises and I'm beat by kicking Turian ass."
He sounded like his name, Six could hear.
Anderson held down his ear piece to talk. "Stow it Joker, we need the Normandy prepped for dust off ASAP, destination Arcturus."
"Ah come on and I joined flight school to get off the station. But I got it Captain."
In that Kodiak there had been a simple viewport, displaying the space outside as they broke through to orbit, and both Six and JD drew bead on it.
They wouldn't know it then but as they found the wreck of the Savannah still drifting over space like so many UNSC ships during the course of their thirty year war, it'd be the last time they'd see it in space. Those blue and white Alliance cruisers had been near it, and indeed, any real chunk of debris both UNSC and Covenant and frantically scanning and collecting them. Their ships looked like nothing they'd ever seen.
Even the oldest Insurrectionists groups had access to at least the Pheonix-class ships that originally made their colonies.
This Systems Alliance, their ships weren't even close.
Anderson saw their awe, their confusion, their wonder all on their face. Fish out of water indeed. "As you can imagine, we have a lot of questions for you."
For the first time since they'd been captured, JD spoke. "You and us both."
"Hackett to Anderson and Ryder, I'll be joining you at Arcturus within the day once we let the Council get a look on the situation, but you need to leave system now before you're caught."
"We have an ETA on their arrival?"
"Five minutes. Hackett out."
Anderson and Ryder had been on their feet as the shuttle basically did everything short of crash into the hanger bay. "Once we're on this dreadnaught we need to move. So no lollygagging run with us!"
Dreadnaught? Both the ODST and Spartan thought. The ship that they had come to, as they saw out their view port, was hardly the size of Halcyon-class cruiser length wise. They had no time to ponder as they simply got onto their own feet as well and rolled with it, doors flying open as it revealed they had come in hot into a giant hanger bay: before them, a ship. Six could measure by visual alone, as per her training. 150 or so meters in length, curved, reminding her of cars almost on civilian streets, it had that stylistic approach with its sleek lines, thrusters apparently toward its back like wings. Black and white paint: on the wing that faced them designations: SR-1. NORMANDY.
"Come on let's go!" Ryder yelled and ushered them along. Multiple other crew had been filing into that ship called the Normandy via its ramp and ports, obviously in as much of a hurry as them. They joined them, cuffs and all.
In that overload of information, of being rushed and ushered ship to ship, JD and Six could hardly comprehend anything they were seeing save for the humans that were around them. They were humans, smelt, sounded, walked like them. No doubts about that, but everything was different, everything from doors to plating, sounds and systems, procedure and signs.
A voice to their left as they entered the head of the ship. "Captain on deck! With visitors too apparently, what the hell happened when I was asleep commander?"
A young man, prickly shave, and a mouth that seemed like it was used a lot.
"You'll know later Joker! Is Doctor Chakwas onboard?"
"Yes sir!"
"And Pressly?"
"Right here." An officer surely, sweaty, but so were most of the crew as they all got to their stations on the Normandy. Some them in uniforms, some of them without. Some of them had just straight out look like JD. What they saw at those stations was something far more elegant than a typical sloop or UNSC ship of this size. A little less utilitarian and a little more… It was what the future was supposed to look like, JD thought for some unidentifiable reason. It was small, not very wide. Only a few people could stand arm to arm outstretched. Consoles and displays were on the wall, and there was a blue aura to it all, moody and dark. When the two looked right as Anderson and "Pressly" spoke, giving them time to take it all in, they saw a map of the galaxy in a giant display in the center of what was the deck, surrounded by more consoles and crew stations.
It was a galaxy map like they had never seen, used to at least there being a highlighted section of the Orion Arm showing Covenant territory taken and where the UNSC stood. Every time they had ever looked at a galaxy map the UNSC territory had gotten smaller and smaller.
"Okay, lock in and we gotta go. Activate the stealth core out of the gate." He turned over, remembering Six and JD. "Ryder! Have these two confined to med bay for HAZMAT and a health evaluation."
"Aye. You two!" He pointed to two of the soldiers on deck with rifle. "With me come on!"
As the two guests had been led away by Ryder Anderson had rushed over to joker. Pajamas on, cap riding his head. "Sorry Joker."
"Ah it's fine I'm just thinking this just a dream and I'll wake up any second."
"Last one who could make it is on board! We'll have everyone take a shuttle to Arcturus later!" Pressly had yelled from the dock, it closing shut with a hiss.
"This is Killimanjaro control. Normandy you are cleared for dust off."
"This is your captain speaking, everyone hold on to your butts." Joker had been more than casual, but perhaps maybe it was because he had entirely missed the First Contact situation. "I think this is a good situation for a shakedown run, don't you think sir? What was the original shakedown run for anyway?"
"Classified Joker, let's go."
And go they did as the entire Normandy came alive and was punted forward.
It seemed like every ship they were going to be on for their foreseeable future was going to throw them around, as was why JD had fallen down the stairs to a lower deck. Six's breath hitched when it happened. She was a Lone Wolf. That's what many a commander, ONI assessor, and asset that had to work with her had called her. People kept her slow, and so she became a wolf who dressed like a man. That was the entire concept behind the Spartans anyway: the next step in human evolution as those who knew Spartan Program would say. Six had seen the progenitor of the Spartan Program after so many years of hearing about it from Lieutenant Commander Ambrose.
She met that progenitor, weeks ago when Reach had invaded at the ONI Sword Base.
Doctor Catherine Halsey.
She knew more than most about the Spartans, about herself and the circumstances of the Program. Lieutenant Commander Ambrose had confided some of this information in her when she was deployed out of training alone. She only learned more as she lived on, far past her planned expiration date of 2545 at 51 Pegasi.
Fate had a different plan for her, and whatever its plans, for those choice moments she thought of fate and destiny such as now, JD was the only ally she truly had right then and there. Whether or not she was a Lone Wolf truly, the ODST and the Spartan were now bound by shared circumstance.
JD probably felt the same in some way as he hit the bottom of the stairs and was sympathetically helped up by an older woman with silken white hair, crows feet along her eyes.
"Oh dear. Are you alright?" Classic English accent from the British Isles. "Usually when I treat wounded it's not from falling down the stairs."
The ship screamed around them, but apparently that was normal, JD being raised to his feet.
"Awfully green, are you?" She had a grey and white outfit that definitely spoke to a doctor's uniform: SR1 in a patch on her arms. She remarked on his own slacks: all green and drab.
As a Marine should be, he thought to himself.
Ryder had been more prompt as he opened up the med bay. "Ma'am. Captain says to give these two a shake down while this ship is doing its own."
"Circumstances other than the shakes?" The good doctor had brushed JD's shoulders as Six and him were led in. Only then did she notice the Marines with them ready.
"Consider them a newly discovered species."
The doctor did a double take, as if she had missed a third eye on JD or Six. "Oh."
An ensign on the Kilimanjaro's bridge tried to yell but the ship's alarms blared as it always did when a non-Alliance IFF popped up. Hackett was able to hear however as he sat in his own captain's chair, seeing the Normandy depart.
"We've got Asari, Turian, and Salarian IFF signatures coming through the Mass Relay! They'll be dropping in in two minutes, five seconds!"
Hackett had opened up comms to the Normandy. "Normandy we've got the Council coming through now! Hit that relay or else we'll be caught with our VIPs."
Hackett's message had punched through right into Joker and Anderson's ear.
"Can we make it Joker?" Anderson pressed, white knuckled on the pilot's seat.
No handles, no steering wheel or even a pull lever. Just pure touch screen madness, and Joker's fingers were flying instead. "First time these engines have been used at this speed. But hell, we will."
"Message coming through on the relay!" An ensign blurted on both ships in some way.
"This is Asari Ship Open Arms we are entering the system imminently. Be advised."
Joker laughed, turning over to Anderson. "Is this gonna be a thing? Running from the Council?"
"Joker."
"Sir can they make it?" Hackett's XO asked as they tracked the Normandy's distance to the Relay. Any rational person would say they wouldn't, even as the Normandy flew like a shooting star, far faster than any fighter in Alliance inventory right now.
The admiral could only smirk. He'd seen the specification data for it. "Let's hope so." He had gone to answer the call from the Council ships. "This is Admiral Steven Hackett to inbound Council ships, advise that you slow down your approach if you can, be aware that there are spatial anomalies in the area that have effected one of our ships."
Distantly Shaw heard that over comms. It was a half-truth.
"Copy that Admiral Hackett."
"Relay is in range. Commencing transmission sequence. Safeties off and activating the stealth drive. Engineering I need bypass on the thermal conduit locks, we're breaking in our thrusters right here right now."
"Copy all."
"Locks disengaged. Transfer complete. Pressly we locked in!?" Joker yelled back, business in his voice instead of smack.
"Arcturus Prime Relay set!"
Out in the distance through the side windows of the cockpit the giant, fork like, energy spewing constructs were seen and rapidly getting closer. The orange screens of the consoles had gone alight in readings as the Relay reached out and began to tether to the Normandy, but still not close enough.
The Relay had started to flicker, sparks of energy emanating from its core. A telltale sign that something else had been using it.
While everyone else had been grimacing, jaws clenched and at pucker factor 11, Joker had kept a defiant smirk as he looked over at the extra-pilot seat to his right and behind. "Oh I wish Kaiden and his biotic butt were here to see this."
Every Alliance ensign and officer in space who had to watch the Normandy make that sprint held their breath, a secret of humanity at stake as their worlds stood still, even with the new aliens below them an enigma far greater than even the Council that had been coming. At least the Council and its member species were cordial, had a procedure for this and humanity had benefit for.
Blue light had suddenly beamed in wherever it could as the ship shifted hard and to the right, sending the crew inside askew. A drift by any other name as the Normandy aligned with the aim of the Relay. Joker slapped through the hard-light controls as he hit the button to jump.
Moments later ships from a different alien union had come, none the wiser.
"This is Open Hand to Alliance Ships, good to see you here, now if you could please designat- By the spirits?! What is going on over there?!"
Shaw had taken conciliation that even the great, aloof Asari, the courageous Turians, and the far more intelligent and measured Salarians had the same reactions he did to the goat rodeo he had first come upon.
"What just happened?" Six knew it in her bones as the vibrations she felt in her feet shook and then settled like a bell ceasing its vibrations. She knew the feeling well. "We're in FTL."
Ryder was surprised as he checked his omni-tool. The Normandy was well underway and he couldn't tell. He felt more at home with dirt beneath his feet, but he was no slouch with sensitivity and control of his senses. "You felt that?'
That same orange, arm bound tool had been used by the Doctor Chakwas as it was JD's turn to be half naked, scanned from head to toe, on the MRI machine's bed and sitting as if it was a checkup. "First contact, Commander Ryder? He seems to be perfectly human. Twenty five or twenty six perhaps? Healthy, definitely. Keeps up his PT and vitamins."
She had given a light knuckled tap to JD's stomach, core seizing up and showing abs. JD could only give a smile for a short moment, nodding. This doctor had been amiable and, if he played his cards right, he might've ended up as the equivalent for the ODSTs. That thought had ended his smile. For when he thought of his future, he thought of where he was now, and just for one second, he realized that he would never get there. Not because of a Jackal putting a Needle Rifle round through his head or being caught in a ship when a plasma torpedo evaporated it, but because he was here.
"I'm a Combat Medic."
Six was sitting in Chakwas' chair at her desk as she attended to JD, Ryder and the Marines standing by the door. Ryder had caught her, eye to eye, when she scanned the room, analyzing her situation. He had shook his head at her, and she had sniffled displeased and kept that face on. That is until he spoke. In the short time, literal hours and a handful of sentences exchanged, she had known that he spoke only when important.
Chakwas nodded, smiling at him. "Oh are you?'
He nodded in turn.
"I keep… more people alive that way."
The doctor chuckled softly, handing him his shirt back to put on as she doubled checked her readings. "Good man. And definitely a man. 100% human."
"Anything else Doctor?" Ryder crossed his arms, looking at JD. He didn't consider him a threat, but he was ordered to take care of both.
She had taken her hand and ghosted to the back of his cranium. "Base of his skull. There's some electronics. Most likely a chip similar to the L implants with the biotics. Less activity however. I think it's more for identification, is it?" JD straightened his mouth, tightened his teeth. He wouldn't say and they both knew that. "Fair enough."
"You. Your up." Ryder pointed to Six, directing her to the table as JD stepped down and the two locked eyes again.
Six and JD spoke the language of eyes and face. Six spoke it better however, JD could tell. There were emotions on her face that she did not hide at all, writ in eyebrows, scowls, squints and the curl of her mouth.
He looked at her face to communicate to her, befitting both of them as quiet types, and only know did he look at her face to see her. He finally, subconsciously, put details to her in the back of his head. She was ethnically Arab, she was the same age as him, and she had not been used to having her helmet off. Her helmet had become her face.
She was a Spartan, and he realized he would come to learn more about them then he had any right to now as she reluctantly traded spaces with him.
"Do I need to take this off of you in order to get a subdermal scan of you dear?" Chakwas asked carefully. They were prisoners of some sort she realized, but they had a long day. She'd seen too many soldiers who had been through such and required delicate handling.
She shook her head. "I don't have much of a choice if you do, do I?"
"My last name is an anagram of hacksaw, I'll have you know, but trust me, I mean no harm." Six imagined that this is what regular medics and doctors in the UNSC were like. She never knew. She either was her own medic or dealt with those specifically for Spartans. They weren't kind or as amiable as this one as far as she could tell. "Your name, and his? Do you mind telling me?"
JD had grimaced in the seat he now sat in. "I don't think we're at liberty to say…" he said softly again.
Six was grateful that he did say so. She had no name to say that hadn't been drenched in military lies, that wasn't followed by a number or preceded by a rank. No one had said her first name in more than a decade, and she was lucky she had remembered what her real name was before she was inducted into the Spartan-III Program. With this, until now, she had almost forgotten her name.
"I see."
So Chakwas started, and with one pass of her omni-tool, she now knew why, assuming that anyone else who handled her before knew, she was basically alien.
Chakwas eyes went wide, sharing it with Ryder. Once, long ago, on one of her first missions, she was the lone survivor of an attack by the Covenant that would've killed her, even with the armor. The only reason she survived was one of the reasons why Chakwas couldn't believe what she saw on her omni-tool. She had stood in a pool of red blood and broken bodies, and she did not see it fair that those Marines died while she remained. She was ashamed of what had been done to her for the same reason that Chakwas uttered aloud.
"You're more than human."