Chapter 5
Camp Hoxha, Actium
May 6, 2545
0830
Tariq
Tariq hauled himself out of the hatch so closely behind Noble, his head was almost up her ass. Fortunately Chenko wasn't around to crack some joke about Tariq being a literal brown-noser, so he turned around to check up on Corona.
"Come on Rook, hurry the fuck up!" Tariq snapped. "We're at war, don't you know? This ain't some fucking, comedy sitcom road trip bullshit! This is the shizznit! Move like you got a pair!"
Corona came scrambling out of the crew compartment hatch like his ass was on fire. He moved to jump off the top of the tank, but Tariq grabbed the back of his vest before he could.
"Hey! Where the fuck is your em seven!?"
Corona gave him a confused look. "You mean my SMG? It's in the tank."
"The fuck is it doing in there?"
"Um... not a whole lot?" Corona suggested, and Tariq barely managed to stop himself from smacking him.
"You trying to be funny? Go fucking get it!"
As Corona dove back into the tank to retrieve it, Tariq roared after him, "From this point on Rook, you take that damn thing wherever you go! You go get chow, you go take a shit, that weapon better be glued to your side! Treat it like it's your dick! In fact, treat it better than your dick! At least that thing might save your life someday!"
"Sergeant Helmand!"
Tariq turned around. "First Sergeant?"
Noble jerked a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the company CO. "I need to go get encryption codes, call sign info, and authentication codes from the CO. You know what you need to do?"
"Yes First Sergeant!"
"Then fucking get to it!" Noble demanded before jogging away.
Tariq grunted before reaching down to help Corona out of the hatch.
"Sergeant, I don't have any ammo for this," he said, lifting his SMG.
"Nobody has any fucking ammo, they don't give ammo out for training missions! That's what we're doing here. Strap that thing to your thigh, we'll worry about getting bullets later. Our first priority is to load up Lillian!"
Climbing down Lillian's side, Tariq ran to her backside where some quartermasters from the local Colonial Militia were waiting with a couple pallets of live, 120mm shells.
"Come on kid, help me get this shit out," Tariq demanded as he slide his dog tags through the reader and unlocked Lillian's ammunition carousel. He began ripping out the twenty-three kilogram shells, their warheads painted blue to show they were inert training rounds, and began stacking them on the ground out of the way. "Compartment one is for HEAT, two is for SABOT, three for canisters, and four for beam riders(1)."
"Got it!" Corona chirped before reaching down to start helping the quartermasters with the live rounds.
"Hey Sergeant, what else are you going to need?" one of the quartermasters asked him.
"We're going to need about twelve hundred rounds of 12.7 mil for our RWS, and about eight thousand rounds of 7.62 apiece for our coax and commander's turret, and about thirty 73mm grenades for our smoke dispensers," Tariq commanded between grunts. "Twenty smokes, ten incendiary!"
"I'm on it!" one of the militiamen volunteered, and started running towards a nearby Cyclops powered exoskeleton.
"We're also going to need 5mm rounds for our SMGs!" Tariq yelled after him. "Cased rounds!"
"Copy!"
Tariq grabbed another quartermaster by the shoulder. "You guys got any hydrogen fuel around here? Let's get Lillian topped off."
"Who the fuck is Lillian?" the quartermaster asked before shaking his head. "Never mind. Let me go check."
Tariq watched the man run off before turning back to Lillian. So that took care of the ammo and fuel; what else was he going to need? Food and water he supposed. But then again, that wasn't an immediate priority and they could always acquire that at a later date. After all, he still didn't know if the Covenant were doing a quick smash and burn or if it was a full scale invasion. If it was just a smash and burn, then all the Covenant would do was blow the Navy out of the sky and proceed to turn this entire colony to glass at which point, there was nothing Tariq could do to prevent that. If it turned out to be a full scale invasion, there was still a chance they would land ground troops on the other side of the planet, at which point he would have time to prepare. And if they did make a landing near his location, then there was a chance Tariq wouldn't live longer than a couple hours, at which point he wouldn't have to worry about food or water ever again.
"Might want to think about dropping those SABOT and picking up more beam riders instead."
Tariq glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Chenko's voice. Chenko had evidently wandered up and was currently talking to Corona and the other militia working on loading Lillian up. Curious, Tariq walked over to see what was going on.
"What's up? You giving my crew orders again? Jeez, give a man a couple of chevrons and next thing you know, he thinks he's Lord Hood or something," Tariq teased.
Chenko grinned for a moment before quickly sobering up. "Nah, I was just saying you should probably be packing more beam-riders than SABOT rounds."
Tariq glanced at Corona, who was in the middle of loading up a couple SABOTs. "Why?"
"Don't you remember Draco III?"
Tariq involuntarily shuddered. "I try not to," he admitted.
Chenko inclined his head. "Yeah, me too. But we kind of have to. The point is, on Draco III, remember we realized Covenant armor wasn't really our big problem; one or two HEAT shells was usually enough to destroy anything the Covies could field. No, our biggest problem with the constant air attacks cause the Air Force couldn't maintain air superiority. I just remember Duvall bitching non-stop about not having the right weapons to shoot back."
Tariq considered what Chenko just said. It was true, air attacks had proven to be their biggest problem on Draco III: towards the end there, it proved to be next too impossible to travel further than three klicks before they were suddenly under attack by Banshees. And naturally the SPAAGs(2) were never around when they were needed most, so it would be nice if Lillian could defend herself without waiting for outside support...
Tariq looked at Corona. "Yeah. Go ahead and do what he says. Dump the SABOTs, replace 'em with beam riders. That'll make half our ammo reserves missiles: twenty four total."
Corona shrugged then put down the SABOT shell he'd been carrying, picked up a missile, and got back to work.
In the meantime, Tariq had turned back to Chenko.
"Shouldn't you be getting your Armadillo ready?" he asked as Chenko calmly pulled out a fresh pack of cigarettes and cracked it open. Pulling one out, he offered it to Tariq, who took it after a moment's hesitation.
"The crew is loading up on autocannon rounds and Anvil missiles," Chenko replied with a shrug. "I can't do nothing until these Cunt Munchers bring out the small arms ammo."
Tariq grunted in acknowledgement as he triggered the self-igniting end of his cigarette. He sometimes forgot Chenko was an infantryman now.
As they stood around taking a smoke break, Tariq noticed Chenko staring very closely at him.
"What?" Tariq bluntly demanded.
"You alright?" Chenko asked, just as bluntly.
"Yeah, of course I am," Tariq breezily replied. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Chenko shrugged. "I seem to remember you taking the fall of Draco III pretty hard."
"Yeah? Well, if you didn't take that shit pretty hard, then you've got no fucking soul," Tariq snapped. "We left those people there, and they ended up paying the price, didn't they?"
Chenko looked at him closely. "We didn't have a choice," he began, but Tariq wasn't having it.
"Yeah? Well, neither did they," he snapped, letting his cigarette drop out of his mouth. He put it out by viciously stomping on it. "Look, I'm not fucking talking about this right now. What happened, happened. Just focus on the task at hand, that's what's important right now."
He pushed passed Chenko, only to see his outburst had caught Corona's attention, who was now staring at him with a look of concern on his face. The sight infuriated Tariq, who snapped, "What the fuck are you looking at kid? Get the fuck back to work!"
The loud CLUNG CLUNG of a power exoskeleton heralded the return of the Cyclops.
"Hey, I got small arms ammo!" the driver yelled as he deposited the pallet he was carrying on the ground.
Tariq immediately dashed over. Grabbing the prybar sitting on top, he wrenched open one of the wooden crates, revealing three dozen olive drab ammunition cans, each carrying a single two hundred round belt of 7.62x51mm rounds. Tariq immediately grabbed four of them, as well as a hand full of loose rounds.
"Hey! Give me a can!" Chenko urged as he walked back to Lillian.
"Get it yourself you lazy asshole!" Tariq jokingly yelled back.
"Fuck you!"
"FUCK YOU!"
Tariq could hear Chenko laughing.
Returning to Lillian, Tariq popped open all the cans and connected the belts together, before sliding the now extra-long belt into the ammunition feed chute for the coax. As he worked, four more cans were deposited by his feet. He looked up to see Corona standing there with an expectant look on his face. Tariq grunted his thanks, but instead of walking away, Corona dropped to a knee and leaned in close.
"Sergeant," he began, "are you okay?"
Tariq glared at him. "That's none of your fucking business kid."
Corona frowned. "No offense Sergeant, but I think it kind of is. We're crewmates. We ride in the same tank. Our fates are intertwined. Anything happens to the tank will affect both you and me. Plus, practical reasons aside, I kind of like to make sure my friends are okay."
"We aren't friends," Tariq said shortly. "Whoever gave you that idea is a fucking idiot. Look Rook, let me break it down for you: I know what I'm doing. I've done this before. You on the other hand? You are nothing and nobody. If I were you, I wouldn't worry about me, I'd worry about doing my fucking job properly. Because so far? You haven't. So stop sitting around yakking, and go get some 12 mil for the RWS!"
Rather than have the good graces to look offended, Corona seemed even more concerned than before, but nevertheless obeyed.
"Fucking FNGs getting more uppity every day," Tariq muttered darkly under his breath as Corona walked away.
"KILO COMPANY! ASSEMBLE ON THE CO!"
Tariq looked up to see Noble, standing by his company commander's tank, bellowing at the top of her lungs. Suppressing an irritated sigh, Tariq abandoned what he was doing, grabbed his SMG and walked over to where Noble and his CO, Captain Lightfoot, were standing.
"Okay, listen up troopers," Lightfoot barked as soon as the company had assembled. "We got encryption and authentication codes. TCs, check your TACPADs for that information and come see me or the XO after this briefing if you've got any questions. Alright, that's that. Call sign. Until further notice, Kilo Company has been assigned the call sign of Cataphract. We are now Cataphract. I'll say it one more time: Cataphract."
Tariq hastily pulled out something to write that down on. He was riding with the company first sergeant, so that meant Lillian was now officially designated Cataphract-07. Good to know.
"Our sister company," Lightfoot continued, "Joker Company, is call sign Hippeis, our infantry support company is Dragoon, battalion HHC is Lancer, and our FSC is Merkava . Remember these call signs people."
"Now, as of right now, we still don't know what the Covenant intentions for this colony is. We don't know if they're here to conduct a smash and burn operation or what. Whatever they want to do though, the Split-lips will need to eliminate all resistance, in orbit at least, to do it. Which means taking on the orbital defense platforms. You veterans know there's only two for them to take on the ODPs: either take out the platform itself, or send down a strike down to take out the platform's ground based power generator. Which is where we come in."
Lightfoot pulled out a holographic map of the area and laid it against the side of his tank so everyone could see it.
"Now, Byzas Station's generator is located roughly thirty klicks due west of here, towards the mountains. As of right now, that installation is being protected by a single, Marine Corps anti-aircraft artillery battery. If the Covies hit that place in force, those Marines wouldn't be able to hold out for long. Therefore, Kilo Company, the rest of 3rd Battalion, accompanied by a platoon of engineers and anti-aircraft guns, will proceed at high speeds down I-270 towards that installation where we will dig in, assume a defensive posture, and hold out until further orders. In the meantime, I want all vehicles to max out weapons and ammo, we're Oscar Mike in ten. Any questions?"
No one spoke up.
"Then let's get to it people! Dismissed!"
XXXXX
Camp Hoxha, Actium
May 6, 2545
0900
Marcus
The rumbling of heavy vehicles filled the air, and Marcus looked around to see a massive number of tanks, more than he had ever seen in life before, departing from a building on the other side of the base. They drove down the main road before disappearing through one of the base entrances headed... where? Marcus had no idea. Nor did he had any idea as to why there were leaving. Shouldn't they stay here and help them defend the base? After all, they would have a much easier time than Marcus would. He didn't know much about the military, but did know tanks were pretty much invincible.
Marcus jumped when he felt a hand grab his shoulder.
"Come on Marcus, need to keep moving," Dresden urged. "We don't have time to dawdle: we got to get some guns, then go prep our rig, and then get loaded up with some cargo, all before the Covenant start their attack.
Marcus numbly nodded and allowed Dresden to guide him towards the armory. He still couldn't believe it. Covenant? Here? On Actium? Impossible. Actium was an Inner Colony. A lot could be said about the way the UNSC was running this war, but no one could say they weren't doing their best in trying to keep the location of the colonies a secret from the Covenant, especially the inner ones. So how was it the Covenant had found them? And they had to have found them. When Marcus had first heard the news, he had tried to convince himself this was all just one giant, elaborate trick to do... he didn't know what. But with everything he had seen so far, with all the jets flying through the air, the tanks rolling down the street, and all the soldiers, Marcus knew everybody's worst nightmare had come true: Actium was under attack.
And he was stuck here, on the frontlines, when he should have been at home, seeking shelter with the rest of his family! Damn this draft! This wasn't supposed to happen like this!
"Come on Marcus, I know you're worried and probably more than a bit scared. But cheer up! We don't know what the Covenant are up to, so there's a chance they won't actually attack this area," Dresden cheerful announced. "Maybe they'll make landfall on the other side of the planet, and the fighting will take place far from us."
"My family lives on the other side of the planet sir," Marcus miserably reminded him, and for a moment, Dresden's smile wavered.
"Oh. Right," he dumbly said before quickly recovering. "Then the poles. With any luck, maybe they'll land at the planet's poles."
"The Covenant want to kill all humans. Why would they land at a place where there are no humans?" Marcus couldn't help but point out.
Dresden stared at him with an incredulous expression, before he burst out laughing. "Man," he commented, "you are way too young to be this grim. I can see we're going have to work on you. Well then, Mister Grumpy-pants, if the end of the world is here, we better make sure we're ready for it, shouldn't we? Let's get some guns."
He grabbed a hold of the door to the armory, opened it, and gestured for Marcus to enter first.
Inside, there was already a long line of soldiers leading up to a pair of windows where rifles were getting issued. Marcus and Dresden waited in silence until it was Marcus' turn.
"Next!"
Marcus stepped up to the window.
"Name, rank, serial number?" the lady standing there demanded.
"Olsen, Marcus T," Marcus immediately recited for the umpteenth time today. "87662, 12457, O, M."
He watched as the lady insert all that information into a data pad.
"What unit are you assigned to honey?" she asked.
Marcus opened his mouth to reply, but then froze when he realized he couldn't actually remember. He could feel his face start to redden as he felt the impatient eyes of everyone else in the room staring at him.
"He's with me," Dresden suddenly said from behind him. "6th Platoon, 707th Transportation Company."
The armorer nodded and made a quick note on her data pad, before glancing at Marcus. "First day?" she gently asked.
Marcus nodded miserably, still embarrassed about not even knowing which unit he was part of.
"Man, you really got the short end of the stick, didn't you? First day, already struggling to figure everything out, and then boom: Covenant attack. Jeez," the armorer commented sympathetically, before disappearing into the back.
She reappeared a few seconds later with an MA37 rifle in hand, of which she laid on the counter. He watched as she recorded the number stenciled on its buttstock before sliding it over.
"Sign here," she commanded as she handed the data pad over.
Marcus signed the spot indicated, then grabbed the rifle. He slipped the sling around his shoulders and let his rifle hang near his waist, feeling a bit awkward and completely out of place.
"You're all set Private," the armorer told him. "Hey – good luck out there!"
"Yeah," Marcus hesitantly replied. "You too I guess."
The armorer nodded before calling out, "Next!"
Moving out of the way so Dresden could take his place at the window, Marcus headed for the door. He didn't know where he was supposed to go next, so he hovered around the area, waiting for Dresden. He emerged several minutes later, carrying a rifle of his own.
"What do we do now Sarge?" Marcus anxiously asked.
"Normally I would say we should go get ammo, but I think it's more important right now we get our rig ready," Dresden replied. "Once the Covenant start attacking, the air is going to get flooded with fighters and it's going to get really hard to get supplies to where they're needed. So yeah... let's go do that. Come on, we're heading to the motor pool."
Dresden hefted his rifle with one hand and started walking away. Marcus quickly plodded after him, anxiously looking around. Dresden's talk of air attacks had made Marcus realize how vulnerable he was out in the open like this, and he couldn't help but nervously look around, half expecting to be attacked at any moment. Every noise made him twitch, and every movement, real or imagined, made him jump.
"Marcus."
Marcus jumped, not expecting Dresden to suddenly call out his name. "Sir?"
"Calm down," Dresden ordered without turning around.
"Sir?"
Dresden stopped and glanced over his shoulder. "Calm… down… If the Covenant were making landfall right now, trust me, we would know it. We're safe at the moment so relax. You're making me nervous."
Marcus nervously swallowed. "Sorry sir," he managed to get out.
"Don't be sorry, just… breath. Okay? I will tell you when it's time to panic."
Marcus nodded in understanding, not trusting himself to speak. Dresden gave him an encouraging smile before he started walking again.
They passed several buildings before reaching a large open area on the other side of the base where dozens and dozens of snow covered M8888 Heavy Expanded Mobility Tactical Trucks, or HEMTTs(3), were parked. HEMTTs were the main logistic vehicle of choice for the UNSC Army and most Colonial Militias for hauling heavy cargo around on a planet's surface. Essentially a 10x10 flatbed truck, HEMTTs could be configured for a variety of cargo, though they mostly hauled supplies around in large intermodal containers. With a payload capacity of twenty metric tons, HEMTTs were manned by a crew of two or three, all of whom sat in an armored cab located at the front of the vehicle.
Marcus and Dresden weren't the first soldiers there, as several other crews were busy getting their vehicles ready. Dresden ignored them all though as he led Marcus to the second row of HEMTTs before stopping at one in particular, one whose cab had been covered by a olive-drab tarp before being covered in turn by snow.
"Well, this is us. This is our rig," Dresden proudly announced. "This right here? You're looking at the best rig in the entire fleet, bar none. Ain't she a beaut?"
Marcus stared at the truck in question, then quickly glanced at all the other trucks around him. If he was being completely honest, they all looked identical to him. Still, he didn't want to accidently offend the one guy who seemed to know what the hell he was doing so he casted around for something to say.
"She's um, very nice?" Marcus suggested.
"Thanks," Dresden distracted replied. He had slung his rifle over his shoulder and was currently bent over, digging through the snow on the ground. What he was looking for was revealed a moment later when he pulled out the edge of the tarp that covered the cab. "Come on. Help me get this off."
Marcus hastily bent over and grabbed the edge. Together, they managed to knock most of the snow off the cab and onto the ground, before Marcus helped Dresden fold the tarp closed. Tossing the tarp into a toolbox mounted on the side of the HEMTT, Dresden pulled out a shovel and handed it to Marcus.
"Here. Go shovel off as much of the snow as you can from the bed of the truck. I got to check the engine."
Marcus nodded and went to work. It didn't take him long to complete his task. But just as he finished, he happened to look up and see the soldier who had checked him in this morning struggling through the snow towards them. Marcus couldn't remember his name though. What caught Marcus' attention though, was the sheer amount of weapons the man was carrying. The man had a rifle strapped across his back, but he was also balancing a machine gun on his shoulders with one hand, while carrying two ammo cans in the other.
"Orlović! Finally. What were you doing, taking a nap?" Dresden teasingly called out. "Marcus! Go help him!"
"Nah Sarge, I got this," Orlović said with a grunt as he tossed the ammo cans onto the bed of the rig, then gently leaned the machine gun against the side. "Jesus fucking Christ Sarge, I don't get the Army sometimes. Seriously, I don't. Fucking end of the world is coming, we got Covies about ready to attack any second now, and I still got wait like five fucking centuries in line just to pick up my Gimpy? Seriously, what the fuck. You think the armory would be handing out weapons like candy on Halloween."
"Welcome to the Army Soldier, where not even Covenant plasma swords are sharp enough to cut through the red tape," Dresden cheerfully declared. "By the way, Orlović, this here is new guy, better known as Olsen, Marcus T. Marcus, this is the last member of our team, William Orlović, or as he sometimes calls himself, 'Billy-O.'"
Orlović groaned. "I will forever regret telling you that story." He turned to Marcus and glared. "I was in a band in high school and I thought I was being clever. Just call me Orlović because if you call me Billy-O, I swear to God I will fucking shot you in the nads."
"R - right. I'll keep that in mind," Marcus stuttered as he involuntarily crossed his legs. Orlović glared at him, before breaking out in a smile.
"I'm just playing with you bro," he said cheerfully, then abruptly pointed his finger right at Marcus' face. "But seriously, don't call me that."
"Well then. Now that we've got the team assembled, let's talk about what we're going to be doing today," Dresden announced, letting the engine compartment close with a loud bang. "We're going to need a driver, a gunner, and someone to monitor the radios. Who wants what?"
Orlović's eyes lit up. "I call dibs on – "
"You can't drive," Dresden interrupted.
"What? Why not?"
"Seriously? You really need to ask? Last time you drove this rig, you backed it up into one of the supply warehouses."
"Hey, that was not my fault!" Orlović protested. "I didn't see it there!"
Dresden stared at him with an incredulous expression on his face. "It was a warehouse Orlović," he said slowly. "It's not like it was packet of, I don't know, peanuts or something."
"It was at a funny angle!"
"It was behind you…" Dresden said, sounding very much like he couldn't believe he was having this conversation. "Whenever you reverse, things come from behind you(4)!"
"Well… if I can't drive, then you shouldn't either!"
"Why not?"
"You're the idiot who gave this truck such a fucking stupid name!"
Orlović pointed to the cab where, for the first time, Marcus noticed the word "Rig" was stenciled in black letters on the front bumper.
"Okay, so it's not the most original name," Dresden sheepishly allowed.
"My three year old niece could have named this truck a lot better than you and considering she named the family dog 'Bunny,' that's saying a lot!"
"Okay, fine," Dresden relented. "So, if you aren't allowed to drive and I'm not allowed to drive, I guess the new guy will have to."
Almost as one, they both turned to look at Marcus, who jumped.
"Who me?" Marcus blurted out. "I couldn't…"
"You graduated from AIT, right?" Dresden asked. "You got your military license?"
"Yes, but…"
"Cool. Orlović, you're on the gun and I'll be on the radio." Dresden glanced at Marcus. "It will be fine. We're going to stick to the highways, there'll be plenty of security and support. Just don't crash."
Marcus opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything, he was distracted when a woman came walking up.
"HEY, THEO!" she yelled.
"There's no need to yell Standish, I'm standing right here," Dresden said as he hopped off the bed.
Standish shrugged unapologetically. "LT wants everyone by his rig for a brief," she said.
"Okay. Orlović, Marcus, come on. Marcus, bring your rifle: from this point on, don't go anywhere without it, got it?"
"Yes sir," Marcus said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder. He followed Dresden and Orlović as they walked over to the command rig, which was a 6x6 flatbed variant of the Warthog, with the lieutenant standing on the bed.
"Gather around ladies and gentlemen, let's go over our game plan really quickly," the lieutenant said. "First off, for the guys who just started today, welcome. Normally we'd have a more formal welcome for you, but unfortunately today is very clearly not normal, and you're just going to have to adapt. Sorry."
"Second, our mission. Our priority today is ammunition. Most of the units in our general AO have enough fuel, food, and water to last them a couple of days, but when the Covenant attack in force, which they will, they're going to be burning through ammo pretty quickly. It's our job to make sure they don't run out. Our first priority are the air defense artillery battalions..."
The lieutenant trailed off and Marcus looked around, bewildered, until he saw the woman that had collected the team had her hand raised and was patiently waiting to be acknowledged.
"Yeah Standish?" the lieutenant called out.
"I just have a question sir," Standish began. "But have we actually gotten official confirmation that it's the Covenant attacking us? I mean, everybody is talking like they are, but I don't remember anyone actually confirming it's them."
Marcus quickly thought back on the last few minutes and realized she was right: people just started talking about the Covenant, but no one officially had come outright and confirmed it was them.
For a few seconds, Marcus felt hope blooming. Maybe all this really was one giant training exercise, and people just started getting carried away with the rumor mill. Maybe they really weren't getting attacked.
Marcus' hope though, were immediately dashed when the lieutenant shook his head.
"It's a fair question," he admitted, "but the battalion commander has already confirmed. Plus, the colonial governor's office down in Lygos will be holding a press conference confirming the Covenant presence to the civilian populace soon. In fact," he checked his watch, "they should be holding that any second now. Arty! Anything?"
A soldier poked his out from the cab of the Warthog. "The music just stopped on all radio channels. I think they're about to begin."
"Well why the hell didn't you say anything?" the lieutenant demanded. "Boost the signal and put it on screen; I want everyone to hear this."
Arty nodded and a moment later, a holographic image appeared, depicting a stage with an empty podium bearing the seal of the governor's office sitting on top. Marcus could see and hear the flashing and clicking of cameras, as well as the murmuring of reporters in the background. The room fell silent when an old lady, flanked by a number of politicians and military officers, walked onto the stage. Marcus recognized her as the governor of Actium, though for the life of him, he couldn't remember her name.
"Good morning," she began. "My fellow Actonians, at exactly 8 am this morning, Coordinated Universal Time 00:00, the UNSC put the entire Ambracian System into a state of Winter Contingency: the presence of a Covenant fleet was confirmed to be orbit around Tenedos."
"In light of these events, and in an attempt to facilitate better communication and coordination with the UNSC, I am hereby declaring martial law over the entire colony. All civil and government facilities will be turned over to UNSC military control."
"At this juncture, the intentions of the Covenant are unclear, however as a precaution, the UNSC has already begun preparations for the immediate evacuation of key members of the government and prominent citizens. However until the military has determined exactly where the Covenant intend to strike first, I ask all citizens to remain in your homes and your workplaces until safe evacuation routes can be established and secured: unless there is an emergency, please keep all roads clear so as to allow both the UNSC and Actium militaries the ability to respond to events in a timely manner."
"While the military deals with these catastrophe events, in the meantime, I must remind all Actonians to remember that we are all sworn citizens of the UEG, and to act as so. I implore all citizens to remain calm and civil, and to continue to obey all laws and any commands given by uniformed UNSC military personnel. To all law enforcement officers, I charge you with maintaining order until this crisis has been averted."
"Before I finish today, I would like to take a moment to leave you with this reminder: throughout mankind's history, we have constantly been divided whether it be by religious, political, or racial reasons. However, we cannot afford to allow such divisions to continue today. Today, the Covenant are here, and with them, they bring nothing but death and destruction. Their record speaks for itself: the Covenant have proven time and time again they care not for our petty differences. They care not for our culture, our religion, or our way of life. In the eyes of the Covenant, we are nothing but scum, only worthy of extermination."
"On this day and the coming days, I want all citizens to remember who they are. We are not Inner Colonist or Outer Colonist. We are not Loyalist or Innies. We are not white, black, yellow, red, or any other color of the rainbow. We are all humans. Humans. And its humanity versus everyone else in the galaxy; if we are to remain divided, we will surely fall. But together, I promise you, we WILL hold strong!"
"Thank you very much, each and every single one of you. May whatever deity or being or ideal that you believe in see you through these upcoming dark days and I wish you all -"
XXXXX
Byzas, Thracia Province, Actium
May 6, 2545
0915
Selene
"Good luck."
The train was silent as Governor Sargsyan walked away from her podium, followed by her entourage, ignoring all the questions the reporters were yelling at her. The image switched back to the two news hosts, who were now joined by a political and military analyst, and all four of them began dissecting exactly what Governor Sargsyan's announcement meant to the people of Actium, and the UNSC as a whole. It was at this point Selene stopped listening; she didn't need an "expert" to tell her what the ramifications of a Covenant invasion were, she read the news every day and quite a few of her friends from high school were in the military and had fought against the Covenant. She knew exactly how devastating and painful the next coming days were going to be.
The Covenant. Here. At Actium.
It shouldn't have been that surprising, honestly. Subconsciously, she had known from the moment she had seen the hundreds of military jets headed for orbit. But she had refused to accept it, and remained clinging on to the hope that it was something else. It was only human nature, Selene supposed, to deny such a horrendous event was occurring.
But now with the governor's announcement, that hope was gone. And all that was left to do was to try and make sense of it all.
"Hey motherfucker, don't you fucking touch me!"
A loud scuffle at the other end of the train drew Selene out of her thoughts, and she looked up to see two young men, kids really, screaming at each other. Before she could do anything, one of them threw a punch, which the other dodged before throwing himself at the other man in retaliation, knocking them both to the ground.
Without hesitation, Selene leapt to her feet and ran to the end of the train to intervene. Fortunately, by the time she had gotten there, a rather burly woman and two old men had grabbed the boys and separated them, but even then, the two boys struggled to attack one another.
"HEY!" Selene yelled as she pulled out her badge and showed it to the assembled group. "Knock it off you two! Calm down before I make you calm down!"
To emphasize her threat, Selene put her free hand on the butt of her stun gun, though she didn't draw it. The action, while not quite enough to make the two boys calm down completely, was at least enough to force them to calm down enough to think rationally.
"Now that I've gotten your attention, what the heck is going on here?" Selene demanded. At once, both boys began to speak.
"This fucking asshole here -"
"Hey, fuck you, you little prick!"
"Alright, enough!" Selene yelled. "Let's try this again. You," she pointed at the kid being held down by the two old men. "What's your story? And without the profanity? There are kids present." Selene jerked her thumb over her shoulder where three young kids were sitting, looking scared.
The young man glanced at the kids and to his credit, had the decently to look ashamed of himself. He visibly composed himself, and Selene nodded at the two old men, who immediately let him go.
The man took a deep breath, before he began. "So, I just came the bank. I've got my entire life savings here in this backpack. All I'm trying to do is go home, get my girlfriend, and get off world before the Covenant attack. But then this as..."
Selene gave him a warning glare.
"...dude came up to me and tried to steal my bag. I grabbed him, naturally, and that was when he started screaming and punching me. I'm the victim here!"
"Its true officer," one of the old men offered. "I saw the entire thing. That young man tried to steal this young man's bag."
Selene nodded before turning to the other man, the one who had originally started shouted. "Well, that's two people against you. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"It's my girlfriend," he sullenly said.
"Excuse me?"
"That girl he says he's going home to?" he pointed at the other man. "That's MY girlfriend. Those two... pukes have been sleeping together, BEHIND MY BACK, for the last two MONTHS! Yeah, you think I didn't know about that?" he roared as the other turned pale. "He takes my girl? Fine. Then I'll take his cash. Seems fair to me."
Selene resisted the urge to sigh. "Okay, first off, I shouldn't have to say this in this day and age, but a woman is not an object that you buy or demand monetary compensation for!"
The young man blinked in confusion, before turning pale. "That's not… that's not what I mean!" he began to stutter in protest, but Selene quickly held up her hand.
"Secondly… look, how old is this lady anyways?"
"Eighteen," both men answered at the same time.
"Then that means she's old enough to make her own decisions. Cheating on her boyfriend, while extremely trashy, is not against the law. Stealing other people's money is."
The kid stared at her defiantly. "Why? The world is ending. What does it matter what I do now?"
"The world is ending," Selene agreed, "but it hasn't ended yet. And until it does, I'm going to need you to continue acting like you're a rational citizen, ready to obey the laws of this city because you see, it's not about you. You're not the only one caught in this situation. We," Selene gestured to everyone else on the train, "are all in the same boat. And if we all start acting out and doing whatever we want, we're all going to fall victim to the Covenant. But if we stay calm and work together, we all might just be able to make it."
Selene stared closely at the kid. She could tell he was wavering, but he wasn't entirely convinced and this time, Selene didn't bother suppress her sigh. She was way too tired for this.
"Look," she told him. "I'm not going to arrest you because obviously this situation is a bit tense. I am warning you though: if you pull another stunt like that again, I will lock you up. As for you," she turned to the other kid. "Secure your bag, go home, but stay home. That goes for everyone here," she said loudly, making sure everyone could hear her. "If you're going to pick up your family from school or work or something, that's fine, but go home as quickly as possible and stay there. I know a lot of you are wanting to try and evacuate as soon as possible, but the last thing the military needs is a bunch of people running around like chickens with their head's cut off, flooding the streets. I guarantee you the mayor's office is working on a plan to evacuate everyone from this city, but until it gets implemented, stay indoors."
With that, Selene headed back to her seat, wondering how much impact her little speech was going to have. No doubt there still was going to be people, probably from this very train, who would still try and rush towards the spaceports, trying to get offworld as soon as possible, like that kid planned on doing. She didn't have any doubt because honestly, she was half tempted to that herself. The only thing that was stopping her was the fact that she was sworn officer of the law, and as a police officer, her job was to ensure the safety of everyone else in the city before worrying about herself.
So when the train finally reached her stop, Selene dolefully got up and walked off the train towards her precinct station.
Inside, the building was filled with police officers from every shift. The air was filled with the scent of fear and badly suppressed panic as her coworkers ran from room to room, shouting out orders and gathering all sorts of equipment. Selene wasn't sure what the game plan was, and she didn't want to aimlessly run around the building like how everyone else was seemingly doing, so she headed for her lieutenant's office. As she walked towards it, she suddenly remembered all the reports left over from her last shift, and she couldn't help but wonder if she would still need to finish them. Probably not.
"MAKE A HOLE PEOPLE!"
Selene quickly moved to the side as what appeared to be every single officer in the building that was assigned to a SWAT team came pushing their way down the corridor. Every single one of them was fully geared and carrying live weapons, which for this province, was a little bit unusual. Though given the circumstances, it was probably expected. She did have to wonder where they were going though.
"Riddle!"
Selene turned around to see Kingsley poking his head out of his office and gesturing at her. She quickly walked over.
"Nice to see you were able to make it Riddle," he commented.
"Wasn't easy, but I managed," Selene distractedly informed him. "Hey, where's Dawlish and the rest of the SWAT teams going? We get assignments already?"
"-Ish." Kingsley walked behind his desk and gestured for Selene to go ahead and sit down. "You hear that the governor has declared martial law over the entire colony? And that we're no longer taking orders from the mayor's office but UNSC military command?"
"Yeah, I saw the press conference Governor Sargsyan held on my way here. What about it?"
Kingsley reached up to rub his bald head. "Military wants us to round up and arrest every single person that was ever arrest or suspected of the following: murder, rape, theft, and supporting the Insurgency."
Selene raised an eyebrow. "We were able to get warrants for all that?"
Kingsley snorted. "What warrants?"
Selene stared at him. "No warrants? We're just going to pick up people off the street? That doesn't seem wise; their lawyers are going to have a field day!"
"They aren't getting lawyers," Kingsley sighed. "Our orders are to throw them into cells and worry about it later."
Selene was shocked. "But… that's illegal."
"It's martial law Selene." Kingsley plucked his badge off his desk and began fiddling with it. "As part of martial law and 'in the interest of public safety,' certain rights had already been suspended. Rights such as the right to habeas corpus. The right to legal counsel. Right to a jury of peers. That sort of thing."
"And our department is just going along with it?"
"I mean, in some ways, it makes sense. Situation like this, panic starts to set in and people do some dumb things. Plus, there's always that one person who thinks a state of emergency gives them carte blanche to do whatever they want, regardless of the effects it has on their peers."
Selene squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. In some ways, she understood the reasoning. After all, she had already seen an example of someone losing control on the way here. Not only that, she had done some riot training in the past before, and she knew how much time and effort it took to restore order once it had been lost. A small part of her even wanted to admire the military for being preemptive and getting a hand of the situation before it could grow out of control.
At the same time, this stood against everything she ever stood for, and the very reason why she had decided to become a police officer in the first place. She had wanted to protect people, not oppress them. Sure, on paper, all the steps the military was taking to ensure control was great and all, but it was a very slippery slope.
"I'm… not sure how comfortable I feel about this LT," Selene finally admitted.
"I know. I figured you wouldn't. But unfortunately, it's completely out of my control. The best I can do is assign you to other duties so that in case this does blow up in our faces, you won't be part of the responsible party."
Selene shook her head. "Doesn't matter. I'd still be guilty by association."
"Not legally."
"Perhaps. But that's not what I'm worried about."
Kingsley sighed. "The only other thing you could do is resign, but unfortunately, I can't let you do that. I need all the help I can get. Especially yours."
Selene was silent for a moment as she thought about what she should do. On one hand, she wanted no part of this whatsoever. On the other hand, by remaining here staying as a part of the system and supporting Kingsley, she could potentially minimize the damage done.
Of course, how many people told themselves that right before a disaster?
"What exactly would I be doing," she finally asked, figuring she might as well hear the other option before making her decision.
The relief that appeared on Kingsley's face almost made decide to stay. "There are apparently a couple of roads the military wants to remain clear," he informed her. "Despite what the governor has said, we're still going to see a lot of idiots trying to flee the city. Right now, we just don't have the manpower to stop them. What we can do however, is take a couple of patrol cars and make sure these roads the military wants cleared, remains clear."
Selene thought about it for a moment before nodding her head. That, she could do.
"You'll ride with me. We'll take one of the SUVs," Kingsley ordered as he climbed to his feet, prompting Selene to do the same. "But before we do that, we need to go and empty out the drunk tank."
"Do we have permission to do that?" Selene sardonically asked, but Kingsley waved his hand dismissively.
"Don't care if we do. Most of the prisoners in the drunk tank are there for disorderly conduct or disturbing the peace. They're not career criminals; I'm not going to leave them there for the Covenant to kill."
"Fair enough."
Together they walked out of Kingsley's office and headed down to the holding cells. Before they got there though, Kingsley suddenly stopped.
"Hang on. Let me go get some weapons for us before we leave," he told her. He handed her a keycard. "You go on ahead. I'll catch up."
Selene nodded and watched him head for the armory before turning and walking the rest of the way to the holding cells.
"Alright ladies and gentlemen, everybody get up!" Selene bellowed as she entered the room.
"What's going on copper?" one of the occupants asked.
"All of you are getting release," Selene informed them as she opened one of the cells.
"Why?"
"Martial law has been declared."
"Really. What, is there a riot going on?" the first speaker asked.
Selene shook her head, wondering how she was going to break the news. She decided the best thing to do was just admit the truth outright. "No, worse. The UNSC has declared Winter Contingency. The Covenant are here."
"What!?" one of the other occupants exclaimed, leaping up from the bench he'd been laying on. He looked vague familiar to Selene, though she couldn't remember why.
"The Covenant are here," Selene repeated. "They haven't made landfall yet, but it's only a matter of time. We're releasing you all so you can go back to your families and get ready for evacuation. Come on everybody, let's go."
"Shit! I got to go call my wife!" the initial speaker yelled, before running out of the cell and out the door. He was quickly joined by the rest of the drunk tank. Selene started to join them when someone called out, "Officer Riddle, could I ask a question?"
Selene turned around. It was the familiar looking man. "Yeah?" she asked.
"If we're getting sent home to go cower with our families, what exactly are the BPD's finest going to be doing?" he asked, sounding curious.
"Maintain order. Hopefully," Selene informed him.
"You're going to need some help."
Selene blinked at that. That was a statement, not a question. "Who are you again?"
The man waved his hand in greeting. "Joshua Shin. You arrested me last night for disorderly conduct?"
Ah. She thought he looked familiar. "Oh, right!" Selene exclaimed. "Mr. Do-You-Know-Who-I-Am! You sober up pretty quickly. Anyways, sorry, but I don't think we're deputizing civilians right now."
"I'm not a civilian. I'm an airman. SF, specifically," Shin informed her.
Selene shook her head. "I don't know what that is."
"Security Forces. It's the Air Force version of military police."
Selene looked over her shoulder to see Kingsley entering the room with a shotgun in hand and carbine slung over his shoulder.
"Military police, huh?" Selene echoed. Then realization struck her, and she whirled on Shin. "You're a fuckingcop!? Then what the fuck was up with all those insults last night, huh?"
Shin gave a sheepish grin. "Ah. Right. About that… Um, I am really, really sorry about all that. I had way too much to drink and… I wasn't in my right mind. I didn't mean anything I said last night, and I'm very, very sorry for insulting you like that."
"Too much to drink?" Selene incredulous repeated. "If you're a cop, you should know that's no excuse for your behavior!"
Shin hung his head in shame. "I know. And again, I'm really sorry for that."
"If you're in the Air Force, shouldn't you be returning to your unit right now instead of trying to help us out?" Kingsley asked before Selene could berate him any further. Selene and Shin turned to him.
"I'm stationed aboard the UNSC Richard Bong(5), which came down to the surface for some minor hull repairs and upgrades," Shin explained. "But if the carrier isn't in orbit by now, then it's not going anywhere, and I might as well stay here where I can do some good. And try to make up for my behavior last night," he added, jerking his head in Selene's direction.
"Well, I for one, am alright with that," Kingsley declared. He turned to Selene. "Officer Riddle? What's your opinion?"
Selene thought about it for a moment. Truth be told, they probably could use the help. "Okay, yeah. We could use the help." She suddenly whirled around and point her finger right at Shin's face. "But no more alcohol for you, got it?"
Shin chuckled. "Fair enough," he allowed.
"Great!" Kingsley cheerfully exclaimed.
"Let's go get you a weapon and a vest."
1. Despite their names, I don't actually intend for them to be laser guided munitions. I'm just using the term "beam-riders" as a generic term for tank fired missiles.
2. SPAAG: Self-Propelled Anti-Aircraft Gun
3. HEMTTS, or Heavy Expanded Mobility Tactical Truck take their names from the real world M977 HEMTT, an 8x8 armored vehicle manufactured by Oshkosh Corporation and currently used by several militaries around the world, most notably, the US Army, for heavy logistic transport. Unlike the US Army version though, the HEMTT Marcus and his team are riding in would actually be based on the 10x10 Oshkosh vehicle currently used by the US Marine Corps, called the Logistic Vehicle System Replacement, or LVSR. I just decided to stick with the name "HEMTT" because honestly, to me, it sounds cooler than "LVSR."
4. The backing up gag (it was at a funny angle!) has been blatantly stolen from the 2000 British comedy film Snatch, directed by Guy Ritchie.
5. The UNSC Richard Bong is named for US Army Air Force pilot, Major Richard Ira Bong (yes, that is his real name.) Major Bong was credited with shooting down 40 Japanese fighters in the Pacific Theater, making him America's highest scoring fighter ace of World War II. In December of 1944, he was awarded the Medal of Honor for volunteering to fly combat missions in the months of October and November of 1944 over Borneo and Leyte, despite being on flight instructor status at the time. Major Bong was killed on August 6, 1945 (coincidently on the same day Hiroshima was bombed, marking the first time a nuclear weapon was used in the history of warfare) while acting as a test pilot for America's first fighter jet, the P-80 "Shooting Star." Major Bong was 24 years old.