Chapter 27: One Problem at a Time
Johnson's POV
Johnson looked out over the quickly put together shooting range stoically. This assignment has been the most chaotic thing that has ever happened to him at this point, and he was honestly just rolling with the punches.
"Sir, how far do we want the targets to be?"
Looking over to one of his fresh-out-of-training privates, he idly noted it was a young kid named Jenkins.
"Set them for standard marksman and sniper drills, but place some out a lot further than the maximum effective range of our guns. We don't know what their tech can do, but we need to find out while they are still peaceful."
A quick "Yes, sir!" Was his response as the rookie ran off to do just that.
Shaking his head, he turned away from the massive repurposed farmland toward the mansion behind him. Assessing the tactical issues of the area, Johnson grit his teeth in annoyance.
It turns out that the spot Thune was thinking about was an extravagant mansion deep into the rolling hills and plains of Harvest. The vast plains had sight lines that went around for miles, giving absolutely no chance for a covered retreat if the aliens decided to attack. The area had no sort of anti aircraft placements anywhere near here, and the speed of the craft that Sif tracked was disheartening as she calculated it would only take one of those ships fifteen minutes to make it here.
Judging by the size of their hangar, they have hundreds…
Sighing, he turned toward the several tents set up by civilians for local cuisines and cultural exchanges. Thune seemed to go all out for this, the popular governor calling in favor after favor to his scholarly friends and reporters. Several local reporters and camera drones were skittering about, ready to record the upcoming diplomatic meeting.
Johnson could only hope they weren't here to record a slaughter.
"Follow me sergeant."
Looking over, the staff sergeant saw the ONI spook standing directly behind him dressed in casual civilian clothes. Her face was stern, giving the impression that she had something serious to discuss with him. Knowing that saluting in a public place like this completely surrounded by unknown civilians of an outer colony was a bad idea, he opted for casual conversation as the two began a small walk toward the governor's mansion.
"Ma'am."
Ignoring any sort of social etiquette, Al-Cygni started to question him quietly.
"How are the preparations going?"
Knowing she wasn't talking about the upcoming 'diplomacy', Johnson shook his head.
"Honestly ma'am, I don't like our odds if they turn hostile. The men are as ready as they are going to be, but we just don't know what we are up against. They have an army and a warship and we have rifles and a single battalion of green farm boys."
The two stepped into the house and away from the reporters. He reflexively scanned his surroundings before shutting the door behind him. Continuing where he left off, he asked the one question that has been on his mind for days now.
"Any chance of reinforcements from FLEETCOM?"
The undercover ONI officer let out a small smile for the first time since he'd met her. The sight sent a shiver down his spine for some reason, even though it most likely meant good news for their situation.
"I've managed to convince Thune to send a missive to the aliens to delay the… competition for a few days. I did so under the guise of an impending insurrectionist movement. Thankfully he thought we needed some more time to make sure his little plans go right anyway…"
The footsteps of a mansion staff member walking through the entranceway towards the door resounded through the house, causing the spook to go silent immediately.
"Oh! Pardon me…" the woman said, stepping by them as she headed towards the door. She was met with stoic stares from both military personnel as she passed, neither of them giving the person the satisfaction of a response.
They both knew better than to trust anyone, as anyone could be an insurrectionist. The war had been going on for too long now to begin to trust now.
Slipping by them, neither moving or saying a word, the civilian opened the door awkwardly. Seemingly unsure of exactly what to say, she opted for an awkward goodbye
"Ahem… right. Good day then!"
With the door shut behind her, the two were alone once again. Picking up right where she left off.
"…but even before your return I sent out my sloop with orders to burn out the FTL drive out on it's way to Reach. I may have just destroyed several hundred million credits worth of military equipment with that order, but Reach should know the full situation by week's end if that AI's calculations are correct."
Blinking, Johnson was absolutely floored at the news. Making the journey to Reach that fast was almost unheard of this far out into the outer colonies.
"That's the end of the good news I'm afraid. While the news of what's happening here will reach central command soon, pulling resources away from the insurrectionist conflict will take time… time we don't have."
Shaking his head, the sergeant made his way over to a window. Using two fingers to part the blinds, he saw the alien ship looming far off in the distance.
"Well let's just hope that their shipmistress doesn't have to call home for a while yet."
(\\\(*v*)/)
Timore POV
Stepping off the phantom, the brooding jiralhanae began heading straight for his workshop. His massive armor and imposing figure made it to where the menial workers in the hangar quickly moved out of the way.
Something in the back of his mind was screaming at him. A deep instinctual desire to protect his only family, his chieftain, his little kig-yar warrior sister was overwhelming.
He truly didn't realize it at the time, but that fateful day so long ago in his garden-home on High Charity changed his life forever. Before, he had no family, no clan, and no hope. Banished to the holy city just for being who he wanted to be was devastating. Unwanted, unloved, and with no family, he had no purpose. Living without a meaning…
But now?
Every tool he has made for the last two solar cycles has had a purpose. Stronger shields, better holograms, automatic turrets that can disable troop carriers with ease…
No one will hurt my little sister. Ever.
He's seen her fight. He's heard the stories the crew told.
According to everyone, she was the greatest kig-yar warrior to ever live. Beating majors with seeming ease in sword fights, marksmanship with her rifles unrivaled, and the battle tactics of a seasoned sangheili.
Even the new recruits knew her name before ever entering the ship. Her absence from Covenant space just served to raise her popularity in her home system. Over time, her story went from killing a hated sangheili warlord to sniping an entire lance of majors to single handedly putting down a rebellion.
It seemed from the rumors and hushed conversations that the jiralhanae had heard that the kig yar population was using her name to deify her, lifting her on a pedestal and personally giving her credit for everything good.
The Covenant granting more autonomy to the Y'dao system? Piracy and rioting on their home planets calming down? Crop yields and trade routes opening up, putting an end to the longest famine in the history of the system?
Even the sangheili seemed to revere her, viewing her honorable leadership as something they respected. Her combat prowess and fantastic exploits during her tenure as a lowly female special operator were known even to them, with many of the warriors onboard hailing from Malurok.
They all saw that she was a rarity among her kind, something Timore has known for a lot longer than these newcomers.
They all looked up to her, viewing her as one of the best success stories of the kig-yar and she didn't even know it. She was known far and wide in the galaxy now, something that Timore was well aware wasn't a good thing for her health.
Being well known doesn't mean she won't have enemies…
Moving with a purpose, the brute angrily sped past a small lance of sangheili casually chatting in the passageway. His thoughts were entirely on how he needed to hurry up and complete his longtime project. His peace of mind now depended on it.
Timore wasn't a fool. He knew full well that his avian chieftain was going to get herself into trouble, even if he didn't know if it was with the Covenant or these new aliens or even someone unknown. The tension in the air at that meeting was so thick he could nearly sink his fangs into it.
The image in the back of his mind of Sohm getting shot with one of those strange weapons those aliens had flashed in his mind before his clawed hands balled into tight fists. He wouldn't let that happen. She was the only family he had, not including the strange friendly huragok, and he would be dead before anything happened to her.
Stepping into his workshop, he set his massive hammer to the side of the entrance hatch. Not bothering to remove his armor, he opted for expediency as he headed straight to his work table. Sifting through the doors for a bit, he found his small wooden box with his most valuable possession.
It wasn't valued due to any sentimental reasons, nor was it valued due to being an overly complex piece of equipment. No, it was valued for the simple reason of expense.
Opening the small wooden box, he slowly reached in and pulled out the only functional prototype invincibility module he found years ago.
He's been studying it for years, the highly advanced but surprisingly fragile piece of equipment giving him far more trouble than he thought it might. It was a one time use module, and just from studying the thing he noticed that it wasn't rechargeable. A limited time of near invulnerability was a huge boon in a fight, but it came at a cost.
The tech itself was the main limitation, the sheer burst of power from activation burned out the delicate circuits and specifically tailored shielding module. Timore already used it once and spent months recreating the original, replacing and recreating burned parts over time.
The simple fact was that he couldn't just direct the power elsewhere into the system to extend the duration. There was a very delicate balance of power and fine tuned circuits that Timore quickly realized was a work of art.
But it didn't matter.
He needed to make it better. His adoptive sister's life might be on the line if he didn't.
(\\\(*v*)/)
Dadab POV
Looking down to the meal that was given to him through the energy barrier, the deacon sighs before snatching the tray. Surprisingly enough, the food he's been given has been more filling than what he was getting on the Minor Transgression.
It didn't matter though. He was once again under the thumb of another kig-yar female relic thief. He did his best to convince his guards of the folly of their ways, but none of them listened. Somehow, this 'Sohm 'Bir' commanded loyalty from even the religious sangheili onboard.
He needed to get word to High Charity at any cost. The reliquary couldn't fall to another wannabe kig-yar pirate queen. The ministry of tranquility needed to know!
Suddenly, the energy barrier dropped again, surprising the unggoy. He had already been given his food, so the barrier dropping was unexpected.
Looking up, he saw as another unggoy walked in. Dadab thought for a moment that this newcomer was yet another prisoner, but one quick look at the datapad in his hand and confident demeanor told him that something else was going on.
"Greetings. I am the deacon of this ship, the Rapid Conversion. I have been tasked by my shipmistress to assess your viability of release."
Blinking, Dadab seemed shaken by this new turn of events before his mood quickly turned to excitement.
All I need to do is convince him to help me! Surely another deacon from the ministry will understand the urgency of this situation!
"First things first. My name is Dimyap… What's yours?"
Biting down on his excitement at finally getting a chance to be free, he nodded his head vigorously.
"I'm Dadab, Deacon of the Minor Transgression… or at least I used to be."
The unggoy in front of him grunted, typing away on his datapad before looking back up.
"I'm going to be blunt and to the point here, the two conditions of your release given to me by my shipmistress are as follows."
Blinking, Dadab readied himself for… something. He didn't quite know what, but kig-yar were well known to dish out humiliating punishments and drastically unfair demands when in positions of power. He knew that first hand by now after serving under Chur'R Yar.
"First, you will not do anything to harm any of the people aboard this ship. You will remain unarmed at all times, and a single guard will follow you for the first two weekly cycles of your release from here."
Blinking, he supposed that was reasonable enough.
"Second, you will not be allowed access to any terminals. No communications equipment will be given to you, and your usual access to the ships systems granted to you by the ministry will be stripped."
There it is.
This kig-yar was trying to stop him from calling the ministry! That was the only explanation for such a demand.
"Do you agree to these terms?"
Dadab truly thought about them for a moment. He had only been in this cell for a few cycles now, but a prison is a prison. He could accept the terms and wait the two weeks to sneak his access to a terminal, but that could take too long! Who knows how many of the relics this brigand could steal before then?
"Listen to me." He began, attempting to convince his deacon colleague to see reason. "This world is a vast reliquary the likes of which hasn't been seen before. We need to alert the ministry-"
The red-robed unggoy waved him off, shaking his head.
"The situation isn't as cut and dry as that. I actually agree with the shipmistress's decision to-"
"To steal them and make a profit? What about your oath! What about the Great Journey? Surely you don't believe that money is more important than that!"
He was expecting guilt, betrayal, and sadness to well up within the eyes of the unggoy. It took years of study and vigorous devotion for an unggoy to become a religious advisor, Dadab knew this well.
What he wasn't expecting was anger.
"You think she's stealing the relics? Bah! You don't even know what you are talking about! As if she could even sell them for a profit! These aren't simple Forerunner relics and ruins, they are-"
Growling, Dadab pointed angrily at Dimyap.
"How much is she paying you to betray your gods? What is the price for your betrayal?"
Dimyap's eyes widened before narrowing dangerously.
"She left the judgement of your release entirely up to me you know." He said, taking a single step back and waving to something off to the side. A second later, the blue electric barrier reappeared and Dadab's hopes of freedom were thoroughly dashed.
Rushing over, he placed a chitinous hand on the barrier causing several ripples of energy to emanate from the contact.
"Please, you need to believe me. Your shipmistress is trying to steal the relics for profit just like mine was!"
Shaking his head, Dimyap began to walk away.
"Perhaps it is best you remain in there for now… Let one of the guards know if you wish to see me again, as I'm sure you will eventually see reason."
Watching the unggoy walk away, Dadab felt a stab of betrayal fill his heart. He couldn't even trust another deacon to see reason!
Walking back over to his food, he began to eat in silence once again. Thinking of his predicament, he realized he could have handled that a bit better. Two weekly cycles until a chance was given was a much better deal than indefinitely sitting in this cell.
I will contact the prophets of this blasphemy, even if it kills me!
(\\\(*v*)/)
??? POV
This is it? This is everyone?
Looking over the small group of followers in his house, the man watched as one more person walked into his house. Around him, the group were chatting loudly about the strange turn of events on the planet.
Aliens! A literal alien civilization out there, and they happen to have first contact here of all places!
The news was exciting at first, but then the rumors on the back channels began to circulate. One of the fertilizer bomb makers that was holed up in a front company selling fruit saw the aliens escorting UNSC soldiers. Then Governor Thune, the optimistic fool he was, began taking his orders from some unknown woman from out of system!
ONI… She can only be ONI, as that has their signature modus operandi all over it.
Idly watching as his wife brings out some snacks for his guests, he sees her cringe at the blatant showing of weaponry. Sure, she was against UNSC occupations and taxation of the outer colonies, but she never was one for violence.
But these aliens? They changed everything.
Realizing that this was all he was going to get, he counted up how many men he had.
A meager group of only fourteen people? All the others are traitors to the cause, all of them!
Sighing in disappointment, he waved the rowdy group to silence.
"Welcome everyone. I think we all know why we are here."
Grumbles of agreement went through the room as everyone began to take a seat. The sound of leather cushions from the many couches stretching filled the area for a moment before the man continued.
"As we all know, the aliens have been seen opening diplomatic relations with the Governor, and more importantly the UNSC."
Grumbles of anger came up from the group, but one voice spoke up.
"How do we know the UNSC is involved? I know for a fact that Thune isn't exactly a war hawk, but he has stood up for our independence before…"
Shifting his stance from side to side, the man shook his head.
"We don't know for sure, but even if he wasn't, then it doesn't matter."
Looks of confusion went through the crowd for a moment before he continued.
"The UNSC is losing this war. Public opinion is against them with every new attack with more and more people joining our cause and abandoning theirs! I have it on good authority that the UNSC might be instituting a draft soon!"
Gasps rang through the crowd at the revelation. A draft of the population would be a death knell for the UNSC, as the voluntary nature of the army was the one thing keeping the popular opinion in check.
Force the UNSC into drafting, and they might cut their losses and finally give them what they wanted.
"These aliens are our chance to land a decisive blow to the UNSC's image and finally gain the independence we have saught after once and for all!"
While there were some excited faces among them, the confusion was still present.
"How will these aliens help us achieve our goal?"
A brutal, cunning smile reached the man's face as he gestured toward a blocked window.
"We force them into a two front war."
A few murmurs went through the crowd, everyone's mood turning grim at the thought. Needing to rally support for his cause, he continued.
"All we need is one more bullet. One more final attack to force them into it!"
Pacing back and forth, he laid out his grand plan for everyone.
"We all saw the pictures! They have guns and ships unlike anything we have ever seen! If those aliens declared war on the UNSC, they would need to institute a draft! They couldn't fight both of us at once, so they would finally acknowledge reality and give us what we want!"
Thinking back to the image of the strange red armored bird-like creature that's been circulating around social networks, he didn't feel even the least bit remorseful for what he was going to do to it. The thing wasn't even human after all, so why should he care if it lived or died? It would serve his purposes well enough.
"So your plan to end the war… is more war?"
And just like that, the figurative wind was cut from his sails. Looking around the room, the older members of his posse of innies immediately looked exhausted at the prospect. They had been fighting too hard for too long, with most of them retiring from the war to settle here on harvest. The younger members didn't appear all too interested either, the excitement and awe at seeing another sentient race drowning out any desire to shoot one.
"Are you truly so far gone my love? To stoop so low as to shoot another person just to suit your goals?"
Angrily gritting his teeth once again, he whipped around to his wife and jabbed a finger harshly into her chest.
"You wouldn't understand! You never fought in the war! Independence is just a pipe dream for you, but I fought for it! Friends of mine died for it!"
The disappointment in her eyes seemed to grow, shaking her head as she tried her best to reason with her husband.
"These aliens have done nothing to you! They are literally the furthest thing away from the UNSC that you can get, and you are casually throwing out the idea of murdering one in cold blood?"
"They aren't even human! Who cares if one dies?!"
And just like that, he lost the respect of his men. The younger men didn't like the idea of killing these new people in cold blood, and the older ones didn't appreciate the idea either. One by one, two by two, the group began to make their excuses and left, including his own wife.
Alone in the room, he slumped against one of his chairs in defeat.
It was over. The war would continue, and his hopes of ending it were done.
"I'll do it."
Looking up, he saw someone standing in the doorway of his house. Wearing a blue uniform with the pointed star badge of the local police, he appeared to be a strong built man with a stern look. A stern frown was shown behind a thick down mustache as he stared the insurrectionist down with dark brown eyes.
But it was what he said that caught his attention.
"Admittedly, I'm willing to do it for different reasons than yours… but who cares about that eh?"
Blinking, the man stood back up and looked to the unexpected officer at his door. Normally the sign of the police unexpectedly arriving was an unwelcome one, but his words caught the insurrectionists' attention.
"Why?"
The officer had determination clear on his face as he spoke his next words.
"Thune is a fool. He is trying to play nice with monsters, but it is only a matter of time before they turn on us and kill us all…"
He took one step inside and placed his hand on his service pistol.
"My precinct has been briefed on the situation as we are running security next to the colonial militia on his little get together. I've seen those monsters, and I say you can't trust anything with teeth on the outside of its face."
Snorting, the insurrectionist walked over to shake this man's hand. Sure, violent racism wasn't the motive he was going for, but if the result was the same, who really cared?
"You will be a hero sir. Are you sure you can get it done?"
The officer smiled, yellowed teeth showing from behind his thick moustache.
"It would be my genuine pleasure."
(\\\(*v*)/)
Daisy-023 POV
Aliens?
"I realize how unusual this request is, but given the current situation FLEETCOM has authorized a single fireteam and a squadron of ODSTs to respond to the situation until we can scramble a response fleet together. "
The situation was so absurd that even the stoicism hammered into the spartan was tested.
"Given the unprecedented nature of this, we have decided to take volunteers. No matter your previous team, those that speak up will be taken to Harvest as a response to this potential threat… This decision will be left entirely to you, as I'm sure you all will come up with a better decision as to who should go than I ever could."
The members of Gold Team all looked at each other, surprised at the turn of events. Silence went through the room, which was a bit odd considering John usually was the first to volunteer for anything.
Until they all remembered that Blue Team was off on a mission to Eradanus. Suddenly, mumbles of discussion began through the area as they all tried to strategically evaluate the situation to the best of their abilities.
Suddenly, her team leader Joshua-029 spoke up.
"As much as I hate to admit it, my skills as a technical expert would be next to useless on a mission in an alien vessel. Who knows if their tech works anything like ours?"
Murmurs of agreement went through the group as they all turned to the ever curious Naomi. Surprisingly enough, she didn't seem overly interested in volunteering, looking toward the team leader and shaking her head slightly.
"I'll go."
Gold team all turned to the voice, one spartan standing up above the rest. The large imposing form of Cal-141 stood up and walked to the platform next to Halsey.
Cal was well known to be the protector of them all. Highly attentive and hyper aware of her surroundings, she would be a valuable asset to the fireteam if anything went south.
One.
The four members of gold team turned back to their team as three of them all looked toward Grace.
The explosives expert would definitely be a worthy asset of the put together fireteam, and her extremely tempered and calming attitude would be a boon if the aliens did indeed prove peaceful.
She looked toward Joshua, a small smile given to her fireteam leader as she nodded
"If you order me to, I will go."
It wasn't a volunteer, but a reluctant suggestion. Shaking his head, Joshua tilted his head toward Halsey.
"No. This is a volunteer mission, and if you don't want to you don't have to."
"I'm in."
Hearing another voice, everyone turned to Jorge as he made his way to the platform.
Two.
Daisy couldn't help but snort at the sight. Two of the biggest spartans were up on that stage now, and despite the skills they brought, they were definitely not the most disarming people for a possible diplomatic visit.
"Me too."
Blinking, the last person that anyone expected to stand up began making his way to the stage.
Kurt?
Sure enough, Green team's leader began to make his way to the stage.
They have leadership, sniper support and a scout, and heavy weapons covered. Not bothering to mention Kurt's unusual trap sensing ability.
It was a well balanced team to be sure, but they were lacking in all subtlety. Jorge was loud and prefers to haul around massive weapons, and Kurt was too sociable. Since this mission was at the very least starting as running simple security, having his social behaviors was a downside as that means they were definitely going to be noticed.
Cal was a bit better as a scout, but she was just so big that it would be nearly impossible for her to blend into a crowd in an urban environment. Their element of surprise was nonexistent. They needed an infiltration and assassination expert
Only three people fit that bill better than anyone else. Jai, who didn't work well with others, Alice, who was still undergoing physical therapy from augmentations…
And me.
Sure, there were other options, but this one made the most sense. Someone trained as an infiltration expert would be of good use in both instances of peace and war.
She could gather tech for study, while remaining unnoticed. She could record examples of their speech to decode messages. She could take out their leaders before they could rally, causing enough discord to possibly make a difference.
Looking over to where Grey team sat, she met eyes with Jai. Both of them seemed to come to the same conclusion. Seeing a condescending eyebrow raise out of her spartan companion, she sighed before looking to her fireteam.
They all knew what she was thinking, the group seemingly in tune with her own thoughts. Before she could speak up, Joshua placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Good luck Daisy."
Nodding, she stood up. Seeing all the other Spartan's eyes turn to her, she stood a bit straighter. She couldn't help but feel that despite her strength and training, she was a sacrificial lamb.
But just like all the rest, she was better trained than anyone else in the entire galaxy.
Looking over to meet the eyes of the woman that took her from her family, she began to make her way to the stage.
"I'm in."
-Author's Note-
Hello everyone, sorry for the delay and the lack of a real chapter, but this was needed to fix the main block I had.
It essentially boils down to the fact that the plot points I was about to make we're going to absolutely blindside people if I didn't explain them somehow. Tons of foreshadowing in this little interlude of mine eh?
I'm about 3000 words into the next chapter, so here's hoping I can nuke it in a day or so and give ya 2 chapters in a row… but my predictions haven't been spot on so…
As always, read and review, and if you like it, consider giving me a follow and a favorite.