Age of Reclamation
Fleet of Subliminal Hymn
In the hanger bay a few huragok and utility unggoy milled about. In a corner was a lance of Covenant that the others dared not bother. A half dozen of the Covenants finest, clad in black and purple armor and laying out their gear for inspection. A few talked quietly amongst themselves, paranoid at being overheard by even the lowliest of the service personnel. A trait shared by all special forces of the Covenant. All talk was silenced when a nearby door slid open, revealing a single sangheili,San'Saruma, their commander. They nodded at one another, eager to show their perfection to him.
The commander strode over and with keen eyes looked at their array of weaponry. He knew full well everything was accounted for, that everything was as it should be. He tolerated nothing less from his own and they delivered each and every time. Inspection was a source of pride not just for him, but for the whole squad.
"If the Hierarchs could see, they would be proud." San'Saruma said when he was finished. The squad was put at ease, and with a gesture of the commanders hand they went over to the gear and began outfitting themselves with the equipment.
An unggoy walked over to his sangheili commander and leaned in close enough that the commander could hear the mechanical whirring sounds of his methane breathing apparatus.
"Me overheard shipmaster talking about next mission." The unggoy said. The commander downwards at the squat unggoy, staring into its beady eyes. He was quite fond of the unggoy, named Kawa. He had fought at his side in many conquests and displayed intelligence far beyond his own kind. They were casual, relaxed with one another. An unusual pairing even with their status. A few of the squad's newest initiates were uncomfortable with it. Yet anyone who would fight and die by his side was worthy of respect and he led with that ideal.
"Kawa, did you think I would be here with you if I didn't already know the mission?" San'Saruma replied. He crouched down so he was more level with his friend and clicked his mandibles together. "Or... is this a ploy to get me talking about the mission behind the mission?" He asked. If the Unggoy could smile he would have but the breath apparatus obscured his mouth entirely. He did deliver a wink in return. The commander couldn't help but chuckle.
"Such a hunger for knowledge. One must wonder how much trouble you would get into if you had not stuck by my side?"
"Trouble? Yes, but where would you be if me did not save your life?"
"Less distracted at least, truly the Gods have a sense of humor in keeping us together." He retorted. The other members of the squadron laughed quietly. Behind them, a large, two pronged spirit drop ship was brought into the hanger and lowered enough to the floor where it could open its empty bay doors. Their ride was here. The commander nodded to himself, strapping his energy sword to his leg and hefting a plasma rifle in one hand.
"Brothers." He started, addressing his lance who were finishing their preparations. "I will not lie. Our shipmaster has located relics for the Covenant. Their collection is paramount. On a planet festering with humanity." The squad of course knew this, Kawa had told them all perhaps even before San'Saruma knew of the mission himself. "We… shall be the ones to hand them to the prophets." The lance nodded in near unison at that. He was proud of them. young but experienced, violent but measured, cunning but humble. The shipmaster relied on them mightily, and they were successful every time.
"Yet brothers, there is an undercurrent none of us are blind to." He looked out the hanger bay, past the transparent wall of plasma that kept the atmosphere in. He stared at the stars and the inky blackness of space. The next few words came out in a low growl, his mandibles flexed downward. "The Jiralhanae... A fleet of them. Their ilk looks to claim the relics not for the glory of the Covenant, but for the glory of their animal pack!"
One of his men growled, curling his fingers into a fist. "Do the prophets know of this betrayal?"
"Temper yourself, Maru'li. They will find out in due time, for when we beat them to the relics. It will be us who tell their tale with our success as evidence. For now…" The commander gestured for them to board the spirit. "For now, we will entertain this competition."
March 24th, 2537
Fadlah
Leonis Minoris System
Staff Sergeant Kurt Junger and his marines surged forward, jarred in their seats as the Pelican touched down on the tarmac. The bay doors opened slowly as the crew chief pointed a gloved finger at Bronson.
"Don't you dare marine! You will not puke on my bird, do you understand me?"
Bronson had his head between his legs. Having complained about space the entire drop from the Tempest to the planet Fadlah. Too sick to have a comeback, the marine weakly waved the belligerent crew chief off and stood up. The marines collected their gear and disembarked.
Junger inhaled the planet's air. It smelled of diesel and oil but underneath all that was the crisp, fresh air of a newly colonized planet. All around him pelicans, falcons and even the small hornet aircraft were landing and taking off. Without a space elevator like some of the core worlds had any deployment to the surface was a messy, disorganized endeavor with as many moving parts as one could imagine. The ground crews were overloaded with work. Everywhere he looked there were squads of marines trying to find their place in the mess. The chaos, however, was something Junger had learned to act and even revel in. While the rest of the squad looked around with eyes as wide as dinner plates, taking the new sights in. Junger found the militia squad assigned to be their introductions and quickly waved them over.
"Sir? Are you guys eighth platoon?" The leader of the pack shouted over the din of the engines. He was a pudgy man around his mid thirties, similar to Jungers age. Like the rest of his militia squad he wore olive colored fatigues and very little in the way of heat plates or ballistic vests. They looked ramshackle, even for an inner colony defense force. Junger nodded, extending a hand to shake.
"First squad, eighth platoon, Staff Sergeant Kurt Junger." He replied. The militia sergeant had to lean in to hear him properly, then the man saluted and then went for the handshake. "Sergeant Roland Thompson, these are my boys! Were assigned to you for now! We gotta couple warthogs to take you out of this mess! Sorry for the whole thing, it's been a busy day!" Thompson looked up at the other pelicans streaming in from space. "How was the trip down? Not too bumpy?"
Junger glanced over at Bronson who was getting some help from Donovan in the form of anti-nausea tablets.
"Smoothest ride I've ever been on. Lead the way Sergeant."
The two squads filed in and made their way off the tarmac to the motor pool. Once they were away from the cacophony of all the aircraft it was much easier to converse. The militia Sergeant walked next to Junger looking for more conversation.
"I gotta say it's pretty cool seeing all that hardware back there. Fadlah doesn't get much planetside these days. We're pretty self sufficient, most of the time the navy just does flyovers to remind us you're still around. Helps spook the innies too y'know?" He said, Junger turned, raising an eyebrow.
"You got insurgents?" He asked, the man nodded in return.
"Oh yeah, lots of them fled the outer colonies once the covies started torching the place. I'd say every planet got its problems with them now 'side from Earth. Not that I'd know, only ever been here." He said, beginning to ramble. "I was a captain in the police force in our closest city Vineta. You can even see the skyline from the base, beautiful city! More or less crime free. Course I decided to pull this gig 'cause of that. Got bumped down in rank but it feels more like a vacation than a duty most days. You know most of these guys here are much the-."
"Anything recent from the insurgents?' Junger politely cut him off. He cared very little for their life stories.
"Huh? Ahh, smuggling out in the countryside. Just last week we picked up a crate of their pamphlets, detailing all their manifestos and ideologies. Its a buncha bullshit but to the farm boys out there looking for something better I can see the appeal if you guys don't recruit them first. The cities are getting restless from it though. There's been protests, big ones. Anyways over here's the hogs. They told you about the reporter right? She's over here." He said, pointing to the four warthogs parked off the motor pool.
Junger slowed his step, looking at the reporter from behind. She had a camera up, attempting to get a photo of the warthogs all in a neat row. Thompson whistled and she turned around to face the squads. Junger inhaled sharply.
She had aged too, he could see that. But there was the same youthfulness in her as there was ten years ago. Her eyes were still catching and she still grew her wavy black hair out longer than necessary. She wore gray fatigues and a simple heat plate chest and back protector. The words PRESS were written across the front and back. On her shoulder was a mounted video camera that caught whatever she was facing. She smiled at the approaching groups and quickly brought her camera up to snap a photo of them all. Then she approached them, approached him, his heart was in his throat.
"Kurt, it's been too long." She said in that soft, silvery voice he never forgot. There was that smile, it hit as hard as it did back then. Something burned in his chest. He wanted to look away.
"Samantha Barker." He replied, unable to say anything else. His squad was just as surprised as the militia sergeant was.
"Oh, you two know each other?" He said. "Well she's been tagging along with me and my boys for a few days now but now that the marines are here I'm sure she'll capture something interesting, right Sam?"
"I'd like to think so." She smiled, looking back at Junger now. She read him like a book, sensed the awkwardness, the tension. Knew not to impede, not now at least. He was annoyed she could see him so clearly, how she knew everything already.
"A sergeant now, huh?"
"Staff Sergeant." He said, his voice wavered for a moment, as if he was thinking of something else to say.
"Staff Sergeant." She repeated. He knew what she was saying in those large eyes, the way she tilted her chin. Right now, he was the biggest story on the planet. He wasn't gonna be able to avoid her, avoid the talk that had spent a decade festering between them.
Of course, he wasn't about to do that now, not in front of his men. He'd give her a chase, she wouldn't let up he knew, but it'd keep her busy while he tried to come up with the right words. He turned to his squad who were all mumbling to each other. Everyone looked at him.
"Corporal Song, Miss Barker here will be with you." He ordered, "Alright marines load up, next wave needs room." He said in his strangely quiet but commanding tone. They all nodded and moved into the troop carrier hogs. Roland offered to drive and Junger rode shotgun, happy to see Song and Barker boarding one of the other vehicles. He needed his mind off this, else the shakes would come back, or even worse. He needed a distraction, looking over at the militia leader.
"Let's talk about our squads, sergeant."
Corporal Song sat down and made enough room for the reporter to sit next to her. Bronson wasted no time.
"Hey ma'am it's nice to meet you. Private Tyler Bronson but you can call me Ty. I hope you do interviews soon cause I wanna be first in line." He said, laying on the charm and offering his hand to shake. Barker smiled and shook his hand.
"Pleasures all mine, Bronson." She said.
"You been planetside long? I was looking for someone to show me a good place to get drinks."
"In your wildest dreams, Bronson." She replied, that got the others to laugh and loosen up a bit. The reporter looked to Song next. She tilted her chin downward as if to see over a pair of imaginary glasses.
"So... You're his second in command are you?" She asked.
"Only in rank ma'am." Song said with a shrug.
"I kinda figured that'd be the case." The reporter replied, quickly sifting through different photos on her camera screen and deleting some. Song looked over at it. The photos were typical of a military journalist. Marching squads and weapons and vehicles in favorable lighting.
"Why is that?" She asked her.
Barker smiled, not looking up from her camera. "All things in due time, I just met you guys. The last thing I want to do is be the squads water cooler. Just pretend I'm not here for now, don't worry I won't get in your way." She said with a wolfish smile. It didn't put her at ease.
Shah looked behind him at the other hog from the passenger seat while Casper was behind the wheel and frantically searching for the lever that brought the seat forward. watching the other militia members converse with Roth and Donovan. "Man we really gonna be babysitting these guys?" Shah asked aloud, eyeing the militia squad members.
"C'mon Shah they're good people." Casper rebuked him. Having successfully brought the seat up she started the hog and moved into formation with the other three. Carson snorted and spatted off the back.
"If they was good they'd be in our uniforms. They just lazy people, Casper. Bet they ain't got a lick of sense between them." He drawled. "I'm from the outer colonies. I seen the militia myself."
"So am I, trust me Carson they're good people. You rather there be nothing out here protecting the planets? UNSC can't be everywhere at once."
"I'm saying it'll be like there's nothing out here if the Covenant show up. They'll drop their guns and run." He said nonchalantly.
"That ain't true."
"Well shit, Carson. Maybe you outta train them yourselves. Whip 'em into shape by shoveling hay or milking cows or whatever it is you did to get that freakishly big you friggin hayseed." Bronson joined the conversation. Carson eyed the joker but thought against saying anything. He shrugged.
"I'd rather see what our fearless leader has in store for us." He grumbled, glancing in Samantha's direction. She cocked an eyebrow at him.
"Are you expecting an explanation? A hint at who he is?"
"Is that so crazy?" He responded.
"It's been a decade." She said. "I'll tell you this, I really hope he didn't overhear your comments about the militia." She said with a wink. Song looked over at her Sergeant's warthog nervously.