March 23rd, 2537
Leonis Minoris System
9th Fleet
UNSC Carrier Tempest
Liliana Song did not hear her cryo-tube open. Did not hear the other personnel stir from their slumber as the ship woke up close to their destination. Song was in a dream she refused to let go of. Her fingers entwined with the golden wheat stalks on Reach. Her simple dress flowing in the breeze. Peace, calm, quiet... She loved it, felt at home with it, and despite feeling herself slip further and further away from those lazy summer days she clinged to it as long as she could.
The UNSC wasn't one to let marines sleep in. She was shaken awake, a stranger's face hanging over her, his hand clutching her shoulder.
"Corporal, hey-hey, you alright. First time?" Asked the stranger, an Asian male face with inquisitive eyes. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the light, surprise turned to embarrassment when it dawned on her what was happening.
"Yes-I mean no, not my first time. I'm fine, thanks." She said quickly, flashing a smile to hide her discomfort. They were both nude, as was protocol when undergoing cryogenic hibernation. She sat up as he backed away from her cryo-tube. Looking around she could see she was among the last to wake up from the deep sleep. All around her were marines feeling the classic symptoms. Numbness in the limbs, dry itchy skin, and the favorite, nausea induced vomiting. Song felt the first two, she wondered when the third would come as sounds of retching filled the air.
Gingerly she stood up and stepped out of her pod. She wobbled for a moment, waited for the feeling to return to her legs and walked over to the lockers provided. There they would find their clothing and equipment. Some marines were adjusting better than others, including the one who had interrupted her dream. He was already fastening a belt around the loops of his fatigues when she walked up beside him, opening her own locker. She caught his nameplate on the side, it read, "PFC. Jin Roth" and while it was unlikely that he lied about his age when he enlisted, he sure looked too young to be here. With their lockers next to each other that meant they were squad mates as well. A fact that he must have realized too, as he quickly averted his eyes from her while she opened her own locker with a nameplate reading "CPL. Liliana Song". She began dressing herself, turning her head and watching the chaos of hundreds of marines getting used to being conscious again. She watched them all, listening intently, her eyes moving from one conversation to the next.
"Christ they found a way to put humans on ice but they couldn't figure out how to stop nightmares?"
"No I didn't look over the squad roster before we went dark, you know where I'm at?"
"Oh this? That's from when I was fifteen, drunk at a party, I could get it removed but I dunno, it was a helluva night, hate to forget it."
"Quit starin' at my tits or I'll punch your lights out."
"Wow this sucks, you see this shit? Looks like a rash on a rash!"
"O-Oh why can't I just stop puking, Jesus!"
One conversation, if you could even call it that, caught her attention. She watched a lanky dark skinned man with gaudy tattoos saunter over, turning his head to call out to a marine who had his head in and out of a puke bag.
"Hey Murphy I guess it's true what they say, cryo really does add ten pounds, how'd you pass basic?"
"Blow me, Bronson. That vomit on your chin or you just drool in your sleep?"
The man in question, Bronson wiped his chin with a toothy smile and walked up to the locker row Roth and Song were using. He didn't seem to pay them any mind though. Song craned her neck to catch his nameplate. "PVT. Tyler Bronson". She frowned at that, he was part of the squad too then, and just a Private. She made no attempt to hide her frown. She was looking at the soon to be most "popular" man in the squad, at least the most talkative. He turned his head and caught her staring, cocked an eyebrow and smirked as he was still naked. Without a word she reached her hand up and tapped the "CPL." part of her nameplate. The smirk faded away, and with his fatigues bundled in one fist he walked up to her and offered his other hand.
"Private Tyler Bronson, at your service, I apologize."
"Corporal Song, don't worry about it." She said, not offering any handshake in return. Not to be dismayed he brought his hand up to rub his forehead while he continued.
"Uh-yeah, yeah! Song." He said, repeating her name back to her. "I was wondering if you might know where the squad postings are Corporal, I didn't get the memo before we went under."
"Techies got up in the middle of the night, locker rows are formed into squads. Which means you're with me and Roth over here."
Bronson looked at the two of them and then up at the rest of the nameplates. His eyes lingered on one and he smiled.
"Oh, oh man you gotta be kidding me. Ash is in this squad? Oh what are the odds man! Crazy!" He said enthusiastically. Talking to himself as a quick glance at Roth meant he had no idea who Ash was either. She decided against asking, the others would reveal themselves in time.
A loud click drew everyone's attention away from banter and on nearby terminals throughout the cryo-bay projected a hologram of a squat, portly, bearded man in biking leathers. his arms crossed and he spoke through the room's loudspeaker.
"Cryo Bay 2-3 welcome to the UNSC Carrier Ship Tempest. I'm Russell, the onboard A.I. Your locker rows have been divided into your squads. The time is 1500, we will be departing slip space at 1900, all marines are advised to dress for combat readiness and queue in the mess for chow. Any medical or technical issues should be reported immediately. Up and at 'em Marines, the first day of your vacation starts now."
A cheer could be heard from the marines. Marines liked two things, leave and chow, and after a long rest in the cryo tubes they had worked up a mighty appetite.
Song was quick to get fully clothed, having slipped into her underwear, fatigues and had fully encased herself in her "shell" which was the nickname for the M52B body armor marines wore like a second skin. With the war ongoing everyone was always at battle ready status. While the guns were locked away in the armory all active duty marines would be in their battle dress unless they were on leave or getting sleep. Of course there was a lot you could do with your BDU as they allowed for a great deal of customization. For now however, Song threw on what was expected and shut her locker door. Realizing there was a crowd forming around her now.
"Damn it Shah hurry up and dress I wanna eat and there's gonna be lines."
"Hey I'm not an early riser alright give me a break."
"Uh, Corporal Song, do you know where the Sarge is?" Came a familiar voice. She looked over at Roth and shook her head.
"Hey yeah where is our fearless leader?" Questioned another marine.
It was something that had been on her mind since before she was put on ice. Uncomfortable with just hanging around she searched for the one who outranked her among the lockers. They all looked up at the lockers. Finally she spied the nameplate belonging to a Staff Sergeant Kurt Junger. No one had opened it yet and a quick look around found no one with intention to. The others all felt the same way she did. Despite wanting to see who exactly her Sergeant was, she had to admit it could wait, her empty stomach was quickly becoming first priority.
"What should we do?" Roth finally asked.. Song shrugged, offering a smirk.
"Well if he's not around then I outrank you all right?" She reasoned. "Then hit the mess hall marines, double time. That's an order."
Lieutenant Iota always put effort into first impressions. He had read the logs on all his men but there was something beyond the reports that made men who they were. You had to see it in person to understand it. He stood in one of the many operations centers inside the Tempest used for plotting missions and patrols and watched his three sergeants file in. Officers were awakened earlier than the enlisted men but he went out of his way to bring back to life his own so he could speak with them directly.
Standing opposite were two men flanking one woman. Staff Sergeant Kurt Junger, Sergeant Coleman and Sergeant Auerbach. They saluted until they were put at ease and now all four of them stood in silence while he activated the holo table that would bring up details of their assignment. Lieutenant Iota was always slow to do this because it gave him time to observe. Observation was a key part of his job, one of the many ways to learn more about his men.
Like for instance, Coleman was slouched, still groggy from her cryosleep. Auerbach had other things on his mind since as his eyes drifted to the corners of the room. Only Junger stood nail straight, rigid, maintaining eye contact with that characteristic scowl he had read in his reports. The decision was made for him, he started his spiel.
"I hope you all caught up on your beauty sleep. Welcome to eighth platoon. I asked the techs to unfreeze you all a bit earlier than the rest of the men. You can fill them in on your own time. For order sake I'll designate you now. Junger, Coleman and Auerbach you're first, second and third squad respectively. I've already uploaded your squad rosters to your files. You can look at them once we're done here." He said in a folksy accent.
"Come close to the table now. This is our destination, the Leonis Minoris system. Seven planets but three are habitable." He said, as he explained their overarching mission. His beady green eyes constantly shifted from one face to another while he went on. Every wrinkle, every blemish, every scar. It was all there to paint a picture only he could see. But one man kept his attention after a while. Junger was staring intensely at the holo table. Then without asking for permission had tapped on the keyboard to bring up points of interest on one of the planets. His eyes reading line for line the excerpts that he brought up, finally the Lieutenant had had enough.
"Sergeant are you hearing me?"
"Yes sir." Junger said, finally breaking away from the holo table to his commanding officer. Two other Sergeants stood next to him and offered a mix of bored interest and mild annoyance with the sudden interruption.
"Repeat what I just said, Sergeant Junger."
"Yes sir, we're patrolling the Leonis Minoris System and several platoons will be making ground visits to any of the three habitable worlds in system in order to bolster and train the colonial militia."
"That is correct, at least humor me with eye contact, will you?"
"Yes sir." He said, keeping his eyes trained on the man. Lieutenant Iota grinned, there was a charm to being so by the book you become a parody of it.
"Thank you, anyways, where was I?"
"I think you were just about to tell us how boring this assignment was, Lieutenant." Replied Coleman, the oldest of the three squad leaders from what Junger could remember. She was pleasant to her men but despite her age most of her deployments have been "lottery ticket" assignments. Reach, Mars, Paris IV. He wondered how much she really earned those stripes.
"Thank you, Coleman, that's right. This assignment is boring, but I like it boring. Boring means easy, nothing to write home about. Of course life in the UNSC is rarely boring, people. The brass up top are telling me that in addition to your duties of civilizing the militia. We are also expected to receive a new member of our little platoon. A reporter for the UEG."
"Oh you gotta be kidding me." Retorted Auerbach. The Lieutenant smiled.
"Don't worry Auerbach I wouldn't leave her with you. The UNSC wants a positive portrayal of the corps after all." He joked. "In seriousness people this is just side thing. The UEG wants the inner colonies to know they're being protected. So I'm putting her with you Staff Sergeant your record should make for an interesting story at least.
"Sir yes sir." Came the reply but the tone was non committal. Iota smiled, Junger, he knew the least but he saw something in the answer. The man was upset with this assignment. Perfect, he thought. At least he knew something about the man behind that combat history.
"Do you know the name of the reporter, sir?"
"Yes its…" He brought up his own file on the holotable, a photo of a younger deeply tanned woman with long black hair appeared. "Samantha Barker. Thats all I kno-."
Junger physically flinched at the name. The Lieutenant was surprised, at a loss for words. He raised an eyebrow at the Sergeant.
"Everything okay son?"
"Yes sir."
Iota held onto the silence for another second before continuing.
"Right, anyways the three planets are Easter, Fadlah and Hunan. We'll be touching down on Fadlah. More information is available in your report, now." He said, crossing his hands behind himself.
"Your marines should be in the mess hall by now. You can either wait for them back at the barracks or go introduce yourselves at will. I'll be in here if you have any questions. Dismissed."
The three Sergeants saluted and exited wordlessly. Junger however held for a moment, as if he wanted to say something in private but decided against it. The lieutenant thought back to the flinch. He knew his record, what he was capable of, what he'd done and had done to him.
His eyes drifted to the woman, Samantha Barker. If she made him flinch after all that then she, frankly, scared the hell out of him.
Liliana Song did her best to tune out the rest of her squad while she got ready to eat. She couldn't make heads or tails on how slip space work or how one had kept track of time during their journey but she was happy that the cooks decided it was a Tuesday.
That meant Taco Tuesday.
The marines were ecstatic. The mess hall was loud with the conversation of dozens of enlisted men. She quickly mowed her first soft shell taco and was ready to move onto her second when her squad dragged her out of her taco euphoria.
"Corporal, hey Corporal you eating too fast you're making Doc here nervous." Called out Shah who had nearly double the portions of everyone else on his tray. How he managed to get that under the radar was anyone's guess. They were all jovial and she couldn't help but smile. Donovan, the squad medic sheepishly grinned back at her.
"Just wanted you to know, you're in good hands but I'd slow down just a tad."
"Yeah talk with us instead, Song. Where you from lets go around the table now, lets mingle a bit."
"Oh what is this community college? Read your damn report, you'll find it all there." Replied his inseparable friend Shah.
"Yeah but this way we get to be friendly, friendly." He sounded it out slowly. "You know so you get to know people? So anyways ignore him, where you from, Song?"
She answered in between bites of her taco. "I'm from Reach, what about you Bronson?"
"Reach, damn look at you, big time. I'm from Tribute. Same as this moron." He slammed his hand against his friend Shah's back, he got a friendly elbow in the ribs as a response.
"You gonna ask her a fun fact about herself next?" Replied the Medic, Donovan. Bronson laughed again, it was loud, booming, and turned attention to the squads table.
"Nah, nah I'm gonna move on to you doc, where you from?" Bronson asked.
"Why don't you guess, see what you come up with."
The marine smiled, nodding, he thought to himself for a moment and answered. "Oh, oh I know, you got that superiority about you. Doctor man, smart, you got a career ahead of you and you know it. You from Earth ain't you."
Donovan was clearly surprised. "How'd you know?"
Bronson just tapped the temple of his bald head. "A man sees, a man knows. I can read people like a book Doc, watch." He pointed to the other members of the table that haven't spoken yet but were all listening with varying levels of amusement.
"Him, big dude over there? Farm boy, look at him, he loves this job. This is like going to the city as a kid. I bet he still thinks spaceships are cool. Ain't that true, Carson."
The hulking surly man just smiled, "Oorah." He said in the middle of chewing, small bits of taco spraying out onto the tray.
"Oorah, and you, little miss Casper. If looks could kill I'd have just burst into flames by now. I ain't even gonna ask where you from."
"Smarter than you look."
"And you, boy you look like you left mommas house yesterday. Whatever, you gotta be from an inner colony, inner colony kids are smart. You gotta be smart to lie about your age to get in, huh Roth?" He said, pointing at the timid kid Song had seen earlier. Just like that he laughed again, the kid got red in the face and kept eating. This was her squad, all of them obnoxious in their own way.
Clutching his chest, Bronson leaned back, his head hitting the hand of someone walking by, his beverage spilled onto the ground.
"Watch it cueball, you fuck!"
"Ah screw you you sonofabitch." Bronson said, throwing a hand up dismissively without turning to look at him. The clattering of a tray hitting the ground silenced the mess hall as a hand grabbed Bronson by the shoulder and whirled him around to face him. Just like that two of Song's squad were standing, Carson and Shah, Carson looked ready for a fight, cracking his knuckles while still chewing his food. Shah was pensive, and his aggression died away immediately, Song saw what he was looking at and her eyes went wide.
The arm wasn't made of flesh and blood but steel and circuitry. It belonged to a man standing over Bronson in his seat, on his other arm was a massive tattoo just above the wrist.
The words, O.D.S.T. with a skull just above it.
You could hear a pin drop in the mess hall. The marines weren't going to make the first move, not against those crazies, the helljumpers, the cream of the UNSC crop.
"Christ McClure, relax." Came another voice behind the ODST. He grabbed his arm and pulled him away from Bronson. "You scared the shit outta him, the Covenants gonna have a field day with these guys, c'mon." He said.
The Helljumper begrudgingly listened to his comrade and the two of them walked away, the tray and food left on the floor. Slowly, the mess hall returned to normal, conversations picked up where they left off. Shah and Carson sat back down, the former sweating and visibly relieved. Bronson turned back around in his seat to face the questioning looks of his squad. He put his hands up again.
"Alright, I pissed my pants. So what?" He said. Everyone at the table laughed nervously. Inside Song suddenly lost her appetite for tacos. Realizing her first real tour was going to be with someone like Bronson.
Casper's eyes scanned the table and then leaned in as if she was telling the squad a secret. Most of them were digging into their food but she had barely touched hers.
"So, who do you think our Sergeant is?" She asked.
"I don't know. Hopefully he's not a hardass." Chirped Donovan.
"What was the nameplate again, Song?"
"Junger, Kurt Junger." She answered, curious to hear if the squad knew anything.
"Sounds like a scary German dude, I bet he yells alot."
"You watching too many war movies, Bronson." Shah said, his friend shrugged. "You ever heard of a soft spoken Sergeant?"
"I hope whoever he is he hates you Bronson." Casper chimed in.
"You kidding me? Imma be like the son he never had."
"Yeah, a bastard son.." Shah joked, that got another laugh out of the table. At the very least, it wouldn't be a dull squad she was a part of.
The shipboard A.I. Russel, chimed in from a few different terminals that scattered the mess hall.
"Alright marines now that you got some grub it's time to do your jobs. Report to your barracks for next assignment. Cmon marines double time next batch is waking up and they need their breakfast too." He commanded them. Begrudgingly the men started to clean up after themselves and move out. Shah stretched when he stood up. Looking at the rest of them.
"C'mon boys, let's go meet our fearless leader." He said. Song couldn't help but agree. If this was to be her squad, then she wanted to see the last piece of the puzzle.
Staff Sergeant Kurt Junger sat alone in an increasingly crowded barracks, his eyes downcast at an ereader he held in both hands to mask their shaking. It came and went, with everything else in life but it was another in a long line of personal failures. His nerves were shot, he had done well in hiding that though. He had learned after a decade of war to hide as much as he could. One day something would slip.
Her, it had to be her, why?
Junger prided himself on being distant. Being cold and collected no matter the situation. Keeping everything under a shell. The men under him had a hard time adapting to it but as long as he kept them alive they couldn't complain. Now she threatened to break the shell, to undo what he had spent ten years making.
He pinched the photo of her, minimizing it, refocusing himself. Instead he brought up the planets orbiting the white dwarf star that centered the system, Of the six celestial bodies he could see. Three had been chosen for human settlement. Thus the budding colonies of Hunan, Fadlah and Easter were born. He clicked on Fadlah, where they were assigned. Fadlah was the middle child of the three colonies. Made up of three continents and had all the makings of a future "Paradise Planet" to be advertised to the core worlds. It was no wonder the UEG wanted people to see this one. After all, a war of survival wasn't going to stop people from blowing money to see a nice beach.
That wasn't all though, Fadlah was a budding industrial planet too. Metropolis' dot the continents with a few archipelagos shoring up the coasts. Mineral rich, there was something to be said about the few golden ticket planets in the inner colonies. The ones that were similar, sometimes even better than Earth. Of course after all this time humanity finally found a way to mine these resources without leaving the planet a husk of itself. Mars still hadn't recovered.
But they were a close, important doorstep to the war for their very existence. While the denizens of this system lead pampered lives by colonist standards, they effectively lived with massive targets on their backs. The Covenant didn't care if you were backwater or a crown jewel, just another rats nest to be exterminated. That's how he saw it, he wondered if the people in charge of colony development realized that too.
Finally someone was close enough to stir Junger from his concentration. Just before he found himself in his doldrums, thinking about the inevitable again. He checked his watch and was expressionless. He stood up and put his portable away and folded his hands behind his back. Watching the newcomers closely.
The first one in was Liliana Song, a Corporal from Reach, he had taken the time to ingest the squad roster passed down to him from the Lieutenant. She was dressed correctly in her BDU and said nothing when she stood at attention just off to his right by her bunk. She was good at hiding it but she was clearly watching him, waiting for him to do something, anything. He said nothing, keeping her there indefinitely while he waited for the rest to trickle in. She was young, never seen combat even for a corporal, first tour, just turned twenty five. Green in every way, they were all green of course. That was one thing he was acutely aware of. He watched them stream in, standing at attention by their bunks and waiting for him to move, to say something, to put them at easy. Yet he stayed silent, didn't move a muscle, watched and observed, and with each passing second he learned more and more about them.
Just as Junger predicted, the loud one, Bronson. Was the first to break the silence.
"Uh, si-."
"At ease." His voice came out just higher than a harsh whisper. His eyes were tight, shrewd and inexpressive. He paced slow steps up and down the bunks.
"I am Staff Sergeant Junger, you belong to me now, we belong to first squad, eighth platoon. Was the lunch good marines?"
"Sir yes sir!" They responded in unison.
The Sergeant nodded his head, the tip of his lips twitched into a smile.
"Be the last decent meal in a while. We have an assignment, marines. Fadlah ground patrols. We'll be keeping the militia company for the next while." He said, stopping at the end of the row and standing tall.
"On top of that, we'll be partnered with a reporter from the UEG. The lieutenant has entrusted us that we will do a good job of showing her the capabilities of the marine core." He said, pausing and surveying the surprised faces of his men.
"Personally I think you couldn't find a more sorry group of losers this side of the war. But maybe under all that green there's something worthwhile." He shrugged, he kept his tone quiet and even despite the insult.
"I doubt it. Hangar bay one-nine marines. That's our ticket off this boat. Any questions?"
The last couple insults had left confusion on many of their faces. Silence hung in the air, it could almost make him laugh.
"Good, you guys learn quick. Dismissed."
They filed out, in one of the barracks windows you could see the planet Fadlah in all its splendor. An emerald among the stars.