John Shepard
Subdistrict Seven, New Taiyuan, UEG Shanxi, Shanxi System
UNSC Military Calendar: February 4, 2561
The blue sun of Shanxi was just beginning to crest over the sky in front of John causing ripples of deep blues and violets to percolate through the darkness of the approach to the city. He leaned over to look out of the front the bus as he maneuvered his backpack with his feet. "Are we there yet?" John quietly asked no one in particular.
In the seat across the row, a hulking alien creature occupied an entire row to himself. It looked something like the lizards that John learned about in his stellar biology class, but with two arms, two legs, and gigantic. The creature, John's physical education teacher, opened his eyes and turned to look at the young child. "You have asked this question thirteen times before and the answer has been the same each time. Go back to sleep."
John knew this was no time for sleep. "But Gym Master Ludomai, the buildings are different, and look," he pointed to the unending vertical line in the distance, "that's the elevator!"
From the driver's seat, Mister Kapatu chuckled as the highway began to give way to the skyscrapers of the city center. "We're actually pretty close, John."
"Do not encourage him!" the alien growled at the human driver, "human adults are sometimes even more exhausting than their younglings."
Shanxi was a small, but new colony of a bit over a two million people, and her capital, New Taiyuan, claimed a little over a million of those, along with about five thousand non-humans on a trial basis. The world was supposed to be the first step to not just allowing humans and aliens to acknowledge each other's existence, but to coexist. Hostile alien ships orbiting above the world were not helping.
As the highway turned into a major city road, John carefully leaned over his sleeping sister to look up at the towers of glass and steel. "Woah," he breathed out. Each one must have been at least two hundred stories tall!
Then, as quickly as the skyscrapers appeared, they disappeared. The bus' view changed from buildings to the building, the space elevator itself. John pulled himself back from the window, taking care not to wake his sleeping sibling, and leaned into the corridor of the bus to get a better view through the front. Even looking at the structure, its size was unfathomable to him- the base must have been a kilometer tall and just as wide!
"Hey, Ludomai," the human driver spoke as he merged onto a highway with a slew of other vehicles all headed in the same direction, "start getting the kids up. We'll be here real soon."
The large alien grunted and heaved himself up, still crouching in the diminutive frame of the bus. "Students! Rise!" His orders were met with groans. "We shall be arriving at your elevator's anchor momentarily. Prepare to disembark this vehicle."
John blocked out the complaints reverberating through his transport and instead turned to his sister. "Hey, Jane, you awake?" The question was followed up with a gentle shaking.
"Hmm," came the reflexive response, "yeah," she managed.
"Check it out! We're almost there!"
"Mhmm," she almost whispered as her eyes opened.
That was good enough for the young boy when the splendor of the outside was begging for his attention. Around the base, an uncountable number of tendrils of gray concrete and silvery metal made their way throughout the city. Each one was filled with cars, busses, trains, and people making their way to the relative safety of the orbital anchor. A teeming mass of color- people- scurried about the base like so many ants while the contrails of militia planes cutting through the clouds provided an ever-reassuring cover.
John's bus descended into the maw of the elevator bumper to bumper at a forty kilometer per hour pace, give or take, concrete pillars zipping by. A wide berth of vehicles rapidly unloaded its cargo as soldiers drove off the emptied husks.
"Okay kids," Mister Kapatu yelled out, eyes darting to the central rear-view mirror, "when we arrive, remember the emergency evacuation drills. Have your belongings ready and hold hands with your seat partners."
Vehicles blew past the security checkpoints and directly into the unloading bays. John's pulled hard to the left-center lanes and pulled into bay 9. The door opened outwards allowing an army trooper onto the bus. He turned to look down the aisle pausing briefly at Gym Master Ludomai's towering Sangheili form before uttering some words to Mister Kapatu.
Kapatu nodded and stood up. "Alright, everyone, welcome to the anchor! Just like we practiced! Buddy up and let's go! Remember to count off as you step off the bus!" He grabbed a railing and followed the trooper off the vehicle.
John stood up, slinging his backpack over his left shoulder as his right hand tightly held Jane's left. "Ready, Jane?"
Her right hand's knuckles were turning white as she gripped her knapsack. "Yep."
John silently moved left into the aisle, taking his place before Gym Master Ludomai. Nofoto and Susan went forward, bags smacking along the seats. John followed suit, Jane in tow, just like they'd practiced countless times before. They followed the girls down the stairs, out of the bus, counting off as he did so, and into the waiting area on a ramp leading to the launch bays.
The anchor's base was alive with activity as cars, busses, and military vehicles of every size and shape moved through their practiced motions towards the orbital anchor's array of cargo boxes-cum-lifeboats. A cursory glance showed most everyone being as calm as could be given the situation. John grew up hearing stories about evacuations from colonies- Miridem, Skopje, Actium, Sigma Octanus IV, to name a few. The adults knew what to do.
"This way," the solder beckoned towards John's group of children and teachers, "into this line over there." Ignoring the large numbers of children, the line was largely filled with aliens of every color, just like the ones on the holoscreens.
"Woah, Jane," John shook his sister's hand, "look," while pointing at a pair of ogre-sized monstrosities with his other, "hunters!"
Mister Ludomai approached behind the young boy as a sea of children continued to move around him. "Mgalekgolo, Johnathan."
The boy looked up, then back at the enormous aliens. "Mega-lego," John repeated.
"That is sufficiently close."
Ahead of their group, a large mechanical lift moved a lifeboat into position. The bonded hunter pair and a variety of other humans and aliens- easily over three hundred- moved into behemoth as soldiers managing the evacuation shepherded them all along.
After the aliens, it was the human soldiers' turn. They were all clad in gray and brown armor as they piled into a cylindrical car filled with ammunition and medical supplies. John saluted as the door began to close. Two of them saluted back as door closed and cylinder flew up into space.
John looked at his art teacher. "Hey, Mister Kapatu, where are they going?" Kapatu was pretty old, but he fought in the war. If anyone knew what was going on, he would.
"The aliens are fighting to stop the space elevator while our soldiers are fighting to keep it open. As long as it's open, more of us can escape."
"Oh." Jon looked back at where the elevator car used to be, then back at his teacher. "Are they going to win?"
"I hope so, John," Kapatu said as he ruffled the child's hair. "Do you have your bag?"
"Yes sir!"
Mister Kapatu examined the bag. "Is it tagged?"
"Yep!" John pulled his bag front and center and flipped it around, revealing the white plastic rectangle with the spotted box printed on it, "see?"
"Excellent." Mister Kapatu picked up the bag with ease and walked out in front of his mass of children. "Students, listen up, take your bags over to that conveyor belt! We're going to be packing as many people as we can into the escape pods, meaning your stuff will get to you as soon as it can!"
"What about my dinosaur," a child asked.
"You can all bring one stuffed animal or action figure," the teacher acquiesced, "but no more." Someone started crying.
Everyone shuffled over as the same pod from before descended. A huge robotic mechanism moved the old pod over as a much taller pod was maneuvered into the launch mechanism. The new one's door opened, revealing walls stuffed with food and blankets.
Then, the other pod followed suit. Soldiers poured out of it with red dribbling from small holes in their armor. Others were dragged out on cots, unmoving. John saluted them too, but they just responded with tired stares.
"Alright, kids," Mister Kapatu yelled out, "let's move out, one bus at a time! Form up in a line on your bus chaperone. Count off as you enter."
The children formed up on each of their teachers, John and his sister, Hannah, behind Gym Master Ludomai. His chaperone motioned for the children to move forward.
"One!"
John turned to sister as he walked forward. "Ready, Jane?"
"Yeah." She pulled her stuffed penguin a little closer, eyes red from lack of sleep. "I'm tired."
John paused a moment for his sister's number before following suit- "Seven!" and walked into the pod. "Well, we'll get some sleep on the flight." He made his way to a seat in the back. His sister followed. The seat wasn't that comfortable, but John could fall asleep in it just the same, as long as everyone stopped talking. Every single kid was having a conversation with their neighbor.
His best friend, Billy, made his way to the seat next to his as the rest of the pod was quickly filled with his classmates. "Hey John, where do you think we're going?"
"Hey Billy," John reached under his seat and grabbed a pillow. "Mister Kapatu said we're probably headed to Partition or Desdoron Five."
"What about the covie worlds? They're kind of close."
"Yeah, but we're humans. They hate humans." Billy could be really stupid, sometimes.
"Yeah, but-"
"Silence, younglings!" Ludomai bellowed. Every conversation immediately ceased. "Excellent discipline. Now, buckle up," John grabbed his seatbelt, "we will arrive at the human world of Partition in about two weeks. Once we enter slipspace, I want everyone sleeping. No talking for at least six hours." The escape pod grumbled with dissatisfaction.
"Told you!" John said as his belt clicked into place. He looked over to his sister- she already buckled in and was already trying to fall asleep.
"Darn," Billy grimaced as he put his pillow to his side, "my dad is stationed there."
Out in front of the pod, the doors started closing. "Is he with second fleet?" John turned to Jane, but she was already out.
"Yeah," Billy's belt clicked into place, "he just made captain on the UNSC Uncanny Valley."
"Woah, nice, you never told me that! What kind of ship is that?"
Billy's grin almost reached his eyes. "Strident-class frigate, one of the new type B ones! He just got the commission two weeks ago."
"Nice!" John tugged at his restraints. The chair had already automatically tightened them to fit his small body. "He was on one of those Halberds before, right?"
"The Widening Gyre. It was-"
Billy was cut off by the blaring of a claxon. Lights dimmed from a clear white to a deep crimson. "Launching in 3," a robotic voice began as the two children smiled at each other, "2, 1."
This was always the coolest part. John's stomach lurched as the pod shot upwards towards space.
Captain Michael "Sully" Sullivan
Aranuka Space Tether, above Aranuka, Gilbert Isles, Earth, Sol System
UNSC Military Calendar: February 4, 2561
Captain Michael Sullivan's stomach lurched as the elevator's passenger pod came to a rapid halt high above the Earth. He grimaced with displeasure.
The woman across from him, Ambassador Anita Goyle, looked perfectly calm. "Something wrong?" she asked.
"Nah," Sullivan replied as he put his smile back on, "I just hate tethers."
She tilted her head to the side a bit, trying to get a read on him before her lips curled slightly. "Motion sickness?"
"Old war memories."
Ambassador Goyle's hint of a smile vanished. "I'm sorry."
Sullivan's mind raced back to his first encounter with the Covenant all those years ago, as those purple, bulbous vessels descended into the atmosphere of his old academy, fired their energy weapons, and popped a portion of the tether into a fine mist. Those heart-wrenching screams of his classmates falling back down were seared into his memory forever. "Nothing to be sorry about," he smiled back reflexively, "ancient history."
The door behind him finally opened, prompting a pre-recorded voice. "We have arrived at Aranuka Space Tether Geostationary Orbital Facility," it said with with the customary feminine tenor perpetually laced with that mild irritation, "please disembark and have a safe trip."
Sullivan unclipped his seat's belts, grabbed his singular piece of luggage from underneath him, and followed Anita out onto the orbital facility. Like every other one, it was simply huge. Since the station and its space elevator were one of six Earth used for all of its cargo lifting requirements, it had to be. A cavernous main entrance of silver and gray- suitably sized for the herculean task of moving an interstellar civilization's-worth quantity of goods- illuminated by the reliable yellow of sodium lights greeted the visitors. Aranuka was one of the quieter space elevators- nothing like Quito, or even Havana- but it was still perpetually packed and humming with the vibrant energy of all of its cohabitants. Artificial gravity plates sat below, anchoring visitors to the ground, while a dome made of transparent aluminum gave visitors a view of the docked ships and the Sol fleet. Robotic arms and selective applications of the gravitic plating moved heavy cargo pods onto and off of the space tether while throngs of dockworkers coordinated dozens of ships coming and going.
The pair made their way to the side and off to the small vehicle bay. Dozens of pelicans, shuttlecraft, condors, and darters sat around with crews and cargo coming and going. At bay 7B, a bored looking pilot leaned over his SKT-13 shuttlecraft before looking up. "Captain Sullivan and Ambassador Goyle?" He stood up and saluted. "You must be my cargo."
Sullivan smiled and gave a weak salute as continued forward. "Sure are. Ensign?"
"Ensign Dale, sir. You two are headed to the Infinity, right?"
"That's right," Anita confirmed as she looked into the stout rear doorway of the diminutive craft. "Anywhere is fine, I'm guessing?"
"Sure," he went into the squat doorway and moved forward to the pilot's seat. "Just clamp the luggage down underneath you," he warned as he plopped himself down into his seat and put on a flight helmet. "You guys have everything you need?"
"Sure do, Ensign. Ladies first?" Sullivan motioned to the doorway.
Sullivan detected the faintest hint of a smile on Ambassador Goyle's lips. "And they say chivalry is dead," she dryly responded. She hunched over slightly and moved into the diminutive shuttle, luggage dragging behind her, taking care not to get her army dress pants caught on the metallic edges of the seats.
Sullivan followed her in. Inside of the ten meter long craft, eight crash seats sat at forty five degree angles to the wall. Thick side walls provided a healthy amount of lumbar support in case of any sudden acceleration. The inside was dimly lit with those yellow lights that made everything inside look like sick. Anita and Michael both made their way to the front to get their best view out of the reinforced glass canopy.
The whole SKT-13 shuttle design was ancient, itself a derivative of the ancient Class 3 "Bumblebee" escape pod first used in the Halcyon-class way back in 2510, but no replacement had yet been designed. It differed only that two rotating reactionless drives with maneuvering thrusters had been haphazardly slapped on, along with a microfusion reactor to power them, while the stabilization fins for atmospheric reentry were removed.
The door in the back of the shuttle slid shut as the lateral thrusters rotated downwards with a mechanical whirring. "Orbital traffic control," the young ensign began, "this is Infinity Ess-Fourteen-Aych at Aranuka Orbital requesting priority brachistrone burn to You-Enn-Ess-See Infinity, over." He looked around the shuttle bay listening to words only he could hear. "Wilco, control. Beginning transit now, over."
The now-rotated thrusters rumbled to life, their ferocious vibrations rattling the aging shuttle. Features of the titanium walls disappeared below the cockpit's field of view. Past the first airlock door, artificial gravity disengaged completely as the main thrusters rotated furiously to prepare for slowdown. "Firing counter burn," Ensign Dale held a finger over one of the infinite number of buttons on the dash, "now." Another roar permeated through the thin walls from the reactionless drives as the walls of the orbital station gave way to the hustle and bustle of Mother Earth's geosynchronous orbit.
Behind Sullivan, the sun beat down on humanity's home, the star's illuminating rays reflecting on the underside of countless ships. The sunrise from Aranuka and the beauty of space was a nice change of pace from the artificial light of the Bravo-6 bunker and the perpetually dark environment of prowlers he'd grown accustomed to. In front, human ships of every size and shape, largely civilian, were frantically scrambling to comply with the newly instituted martial law. Small specs of gray with brights motes of blue and yellow exhaust- the UNSC Navy- were further out, performing shakedown maneuvers and preparing for another thirty year war.
In spite of the healthy amounts of life, Sullivan only noticed the shortcomings. Humanity's place in the galaxy was still unassured at best. Resources were stretched to the breaking point, this shuttle being a prime example. Despite being an ancient design with limited autopilot capabilities, it was never updated. He knew a design overview wasn't scheduled for another decade, ostensibly to instead focus on updating the still devastated UNSC fleet.
The Halberd-class destroyer he noticed being retrofitted at the Aranuka docks was a strip-down special, lacking half of its point-defense, nearly any and all of sensors, tertiary communications, and most of its battery back-up: a floating monument to the desperation of the late 2540s and early 2550s. It was still in service, of course.
"Alright," Ensign Dale turned around to his cargo, "we'll be meeting the Infinity above Mexico City. We'll be doing a four-gee burn, inertially compensated down to point-one-gee inside. Eee-tee-aye is just under thirty minutes," he explained before turning back.
"Excellent, Ensign." Ambassador Goyle turned back to Sullivan, "enjoying the view, Captain?"
Sullivan snapped back to attention. "Hmm? Oh, absolutely. You don't get to see this sitting conference rooms all day."
Anita, eyebrow slightly raised, turned to Sullivan as she rubbed her knuckles in thought before putting them at rest on her thighs. "I always pictured ONI as living out of the shadows of their prowlers," she shrugged, "no matter how ridiculous that actually is."
"I'd take a conference room over a prowler any day," Sullivan reminisced, "unless I was the pilot, that is. On prowlers, they keep the lights off to lower heat emissions ever so slightly. Lower heat emissions means the prowler is tougher to detect, plus that higher thrust capacity while cloaked. Even if it's, say, point-zero-one percent extra thrust, it's still extra thrust. Onboard, the only illumination is from head lamps and holo-monitors. Otherwise, it's just always nighttime."
The Ambassador responded with a grimace. "That sounds awful."
"Compared to breaking bread with your spoiled covvie bra-"
"Systems confirmed green," the pilot interrupted, "prepare for burn in three, two, one."
The engines thrust pushed Sullivan back into the seats ever so gently, padded support cupping his left side. On a trip to, say, Mars, it might have caused some soreness, but this was just a quick jaunt across Earth.
As the shuttle flew, it picked up some rotation around the center of thrust. The view out front shifted from High Earth orbit to the surface itself. Far below but moving closer, in Low Earth Orbit, the hulking masses of metal known as Orbital Defense Platforms sat peacefully, daring anyone to come close. Below them, the milky whites, blues, greens, and yellows of humanity's cradle dominated the background.
Ambassador Goyle broke the silence in the craft. "So, Ensign, why the Navy?"
"Oh, umm," Ensign Doyle sat up from his slouch and talk back in raised voice, "I've always just loved ships, ma'am. Martian, born and raised. Mom worked at the 'yards." He turned his head to face his passengers. "Her first was the Pillar of Autumn," he beamed with pride.
"You sound like a shipwatcher," Sullivan guessed.
"Yes sir," he turned back, "no better place to do that than the Infinity, you know? Always going somewhere on there."
"I can imagine," Sullivan responded. "Have a favorite? Human or covenant?"
"Covenant? Hell no, they're ugly as sin, uhm, sir."
"At ease, son," the ONI captain chuckled, "'couldn't agree more."
"But for the UNSC? That's a tough one. The Strident-class, plus that first new Actium-class cruiser being laid down on Mars, they're good looking alright, but they're too cold. Infinity is too big to be beautiful." The Ensign scratched his temple, coaxing the gears in brain to keep churning through his mental encyclopedia, "as good as the Halcyon-class looked, I've gotta give it to the old Valiant-class cruisers."
The ambassador nodded. "They do have a certain je ne sais quoi to them, don't they?"
"Darn straight, ma'am. They've got that aesthetic that just screams pure function, you know, but somehow still looks more like art than science." Ambassador Goyle nodded in agreement with the ensign. "Haven't seen a Valiant in years, though."
Sullivan shook his head in disapproval. "There weren't many to begin with. The war took them all except for the Sun-sin, I think, and now apparently the Everest."
"Nah, Sun-sin got scrapped in late fifty-nine after the Battle of Huctyus," Ensign Dale corrected, "took three Brute plasma torps across the side. I think the Everest is all that's left of the Valiants."
"Damn." Michael winced as he mentally prepared to tally up another several thousand dead, "all hands?"
"Nah, nothing that serious," the pilot responded, "brass decided not to repair a ship that old. Most of the crew survived, actually. Those Valiants are tough, you know."
Routine shuttle flights tended to be routine, and after half an hour of routine small talk, the shuttle glided through the Infinity's enormous hangar deck and stopped at a landing pad nearer the center. "We've arrived. The ground crew will take you to your destination."
"Thanks for the ride, Ensign," Sullivan managed as he fumbled with that damned third buckle.
"Not a problem, Captain," he said as he got up with groan and grinned. "Yer' not a bad guy, for a spook."
"Thanks," Sullivan smiled back as he got the last clasp off, "I'll take that as a complement." He stood up slowly, as befitting a man his age, and lifted his carry-on up from under his seat. "Need help, Ambassador?"
"Yeah," she looked down at exasperation, "how do you get this off?"
"Here," the Captain bent over and effortlessly actuated the restraint mechanism, then stepped aside. "It's always easier from the outside looking in."
The trio exited the shuttlecraft into the hangar. As the pilot of the craft broke off in the direction of some technicians making their way over, Ambassador Goyle and Captain Sullivan, flanked by crew members, moved past a set of landing strips, next to walls of pelicans and fighters, down a set of ramps, and next a set of elevators. One of the crew spoke up, "the ship's CO will be meeting us here momentarily, sirs," before joining the remainder in an at-rest stance.
Captain Sullivan gently placed his bag down. "Thanks, son." His view shifted to the hangar itself- filled with shuttles, fighters, bombers, and pelicans of every type.
Not ten seconds later, an elevator descended a few feet away. Out stepped a middle-aged man in gray officer's combat fatigues and a white hat bearing a new flag officer's singular silver star and branches. Captain Sullivan noted the man was shorter than remembered with more creases in his cheeks. His hat sat atop a well-trimmed crop of black hair with thin streaks of gray, though his eyes let everyone know he was as sharp as he was three decades ago. The two men reflexively saluted each other.
"So you're the spook," the man noted. His eyes made their way from Sullivan's face to his nametag, and a smile crept along the man's face, "I thought ONI was sending their best."
A few of the crew looked around uncomfortably.
Captain Sullivan sized up the man in question before allowing a smile to match his. "You know, Rear Admiral Lower Half Lasky doesn't have the same ring as Captain Lasky." He paused, "mmm," followed by another pause, "Captain Lasky," and let the words swirl around his tongue like a fine cabernet. "Sounds like the name a focus group came up with. I'll let Hood know that he'll be demoting you next time we meet. For public relations purposes."
The man in front of him broke into a full smile and went to embrace the ONI captain. "Sully, it's been too long. How are you?"
Sullivan reciprocated, "not bad Lasky," giving him a pat on the back, "not bad," before stepping away from his childhood friend. "Far too long." Captain Sullivan stepped back to present his co-passenger, "Admiral, allow me to introduce Ambassador Anita Goyle."
The ambassador extended her hand. "It's an honor, Admiral Lasky."
His hand met hers and shook, "the honor is all mine, ambassador," before opening his palm upwards to the hangar at large. "Roland, introduce yourselves to our guests."
From somewhere just out of sight, a masculine baritone with an American accent spoke. "Welcome aboard! I'm Roland, ship's AI, at your service."
"Hello, Roland," the ambassador warmly responded.
"Right," Lasky turned to a young woman, "Ensign Mariani, could you two please take the Ambassador's bag and escort her to her quarters?" The young officer saluted as the ambassador gave a polite smile. "Captain Sullivan, I assume you're not parting with your bag?"
Sully glowered. "Can't, sir, ONI protocol," and shook his head, "I believe the official policy is 'over my dead body.'"
Lasky smirked. "Fair. Ambassador, we'll meet up in a bit. Sully, on me," he commanded as he turned from the elevator behind him and into a separate hallway just beside.
After a short 'see you in a bit,' the ambassador disappeared behind the elevator doors as Lasky began moving down a long corridor just behind his old friend.
The two walked in silence for roughly five minutes as crew busily walked past until Lasky broke the silence. "Hey, Sully-"
"Hmm?"
"-did you ever keep in touch with Orenski?"
"Hmm." Captain Sullivan let his memory stir. Him, Lasky, and a cadet, April Orenski, were the only survivors from the planetside of the battle of Corbulo Military Academy and Circinus IV back in '26. Just three kids on a planet of over a million. His very first encounter with the covenant.
"Only through her reports," Sullivan responded. "She passed away in '59."
The admiral's pace slowed as he nodded twice. "Combat?"
Sullivan responded with a grimace. "Survivor's guilt."
The rest of the walk down the hallway was a quiet one. The Captain's eyes took in the crisp, white, angular walls and the clean yellows, reds, and blues that demarcated service panels. All of these were illuminated by the sunlight-colored lights that refracted just so off of the walls, like Earth's sun off of a fresh morning snow. And all if this was punctuated by the lessons of humanity's hubris taught to him so thoroughly by the past thirty years.
The two childhood friends walked through the door and into the officer's lounge. Metallic tables with faux-wood inserts cluttered the floor with comfortable chairs around them, four to six per. A window to the outside dominated the far side of the room letting in the vibrant greens, deep blues, and warm yellows of Mother Earth.
"Bar?" Lasky gestured to the gray slab of titanium peppered with stools manned by a surly forty-something-year old. "Or table?"
"Bar's fine."
The Admiral moved effortlessly onto an obviously familiar stool.
Sully dragged his carry-on next to a suitable candidate just to the left and gently shook it. Satisfied with the stool's balance, he climbed up next to his old friend, hands around the metallic-rimmed cushion.
"So," a bartender rounded the corner, "what'll it be, sirs?"
Lasky grinned in anticipation. "A shot of the ship's plasma, Hawthorne."
The bartender raised his eyebrow. "You sure, sir? That stuff is-"
"I know what I'm getting myself into."
Hawthorne turned. "And you, Captain?"
"The same," Sullivan responded without hesitation.
"Comin' right up." The bartender sounded almost disappointed as his hands moved past a mixer and to the glasses.
Two shots of clear liquid from an unmarked bottle appeared in front of them. Lasky and Sullivan both lifted theirs up.
"To Corbulo Military Academy," Admiral Lasky began.
"And the heroes still there," Captain Sullivan finished. "Axios."
"Axios."
The two kicked back their drinks.
Lasky grimaced as he slammed his empty shot glass down. "That was terrible."
"Best I've ever had." Sullivan gently placed his on the bartop. "There are six thousand people on this ship. More than likely that one of them knows how to distill something decent. Hawthorne, two glasses of water and some privacy, please."
"Coming right up, sirs." The bartender pulled up two glasses from a mechanism with a satisfying "pfwish," filled them, and placed them on the table. "Anything else, sirs?"
"That's it," Lasky gave a warm smile, "thanks Sergeant."
The bartender saluted the other two, turned about face, and moved into a kitchen by way of a sliding door.
The admiral looked at the clear bottle of plasma sitting on the counter. "Why does the UNSC even bother packing those sugary gelatin things? No one eats them- they're disgusting."
"To make alcohol with."
Lasky paused to digest that information. "Really?"
"Yep."
A moment of silence lingered before Lasky pivoted. "Anyway-"
The ONI captain waited for the kitchen door to close before interrupting. "Enough of this sentimental shit. First contact."
"I got a chance to read your abstract." Lasky pulled one side of his face into a knowing grin. "Peaceful aliens, huh?"
"Yep." Sully leaned back across his seat's terrible support for a quick stretch, "shuttle cramps-" and paused for a moment to let out a groan. "-god damn, I'm an old man. Then there's some mean xenos, too, and a massive number of unknown quantities.
"But let's start with the good guys. They call themselves 'Quarians.'"
Author's note:
Long time no see, everyone. I write this story while traveling for work and my last job stopped all business travel for a long time. The good news is that I got a new job with lots of time for writing. The bad news is that you should probably reread the story to reacquaint yourself with what's happening.
As some extra sweetness for you, the next chapter is almost done and is where the action really starts. If I ever do decide to give up on the story, I'll post the outline for all ~40 chapters to not keep y'all hanging.
Finally, a big thank you to the people who left reviews and messaged me asking to keep going- you're the reason I kept going instead of catching up on my reading.
Anyway, enough of the boring "story" stuff, let's talk physics. Space elevators, also rarely called space tethers, are an age-old science fiction concept. The idea is simple in principle: what if we had an elevator so tall that it could ferry equipment into space? In Halo 2 and 3, these structures played a huge role as the backdrops to New Mombasa, a city in Africa. In Mass Effect, they are nowhere to be seen. Is it science, science fiction, or science fantasy? Here's how we'll break it down:
What is an orbit and how does it work?
What is geostationary orbit and why is it special?
What are the basic requirements for a space elevator?
How would we build such a structure?
Is a space elevator science, science fiction, or science fantasy?
We begin our exploration with orbits. Wikipedia defines an orbit to be "a gravitationally curved path of an object around a point in space," such as a planet around a star, or a spaceship around a planet.
When talking about a smaller body (such as a planet) orbiting a way more massive body (such as a star), the easiest way to think of orbits is that the object in question (the planet) is moving really fast in one direction, while the more massive body (the star) is pulling the object in question inwards. In this example, the planet is moving fast enough that the star can never drag it in completely, but slow enough that the planet doesn't just escape the star system. This "equilibrium" between two celestial bodies is an orbit.
Technically, any two objects will orbit around each other's barycenter (center of mass), but we're going to take the limit that one object is infinitely lighter or heavier than another one. For example, the UNSC Infinity and the UNSC Everest are both really big, but they're vastly smaller and lighter than the whole of Earth, so it's an acceptable approximation. The distance from the barycenter to the center of mass of the object in question is the orbital radius. If we're talking about something like a spaceship orbiting a planet, we may instead choose to use orbital height, or the distance from sea level to the ship. For a spaceship orbiting a planet, the measurements are related by way of the radius of the planet through the following equation: orbital radius = orbital height + radius of the planet.
Moving back to the planet and the star, the closer our planet is to our star, the faster its rotation around the star is. That's because the distance travelled per orbit is smaller while the gravitational attraction between the bodies is larger. Earth's orbital period, or the time it takes to make one complete revolution around its star, the Sun, is 365 days (approximately). We give this orbital period a special name called a "year" or a "solar year." Mercury, which is closer to the Sun, has an orbital period that's about 88 days. Neptune's orbital period is a little longer, at about 60,182 days. Quite a difference!
If we search on google images for a model picture of our solar system, we'll notice that the planets are arranged in approximately a flat plane, but nothing is preventing an object from being outside of that plane, orbiting on a different angle from everything else but still orbiting the sun nonetheless. This is called orbital inclination, and some objects in our solar system are on very inclined orbits compared to our own, such as the dwarf planet Eris (44 degrees), or Pluto (17 degrees).
Moving onwards to special types, Geosynchronous orbit (GSO) is a type of orbit where the orbital period (e.g. one orbit around the planetary body in question) perfectly matches the rotation period of the body itself. For Earth, that means that a GSO is one that takes approximately 23 hours, 56 minutes, and 4 seconds, or the length of Earth's sidereal day. On modern day Earth, most objects in GSO are communications satellites- the orbit has a number of properties that make it attractive for such applications.
Geostationary orbit, also known as geosynchronous equatorial orbit (GEO), however, is a special type of geosynchronous orbit wherein the satellite in question stays permanently above a place below it on the ground. Due to physics which I will not derive here, the only way this can happen is if the satellite is over the equator of the planet, hence the name, i.e. its orbital inclination is exactly 0 degrees. Orbital altitude is approximately 35,786 km (22,236 mi) above sea level, which would cause an orbital period of very close to one sidereal day. GEO is a popular orbit for communications satellites, weather satellites, and color-sensitive oceanographic equipment, among others.
In the year 2561, however, GEO takes on special significance for a structure known in science fiction as the space elevator. Imagine, for a moment, that there was a structure that could reach from the ground all the way into space. We could use that structure to deliver goods into space, removing the costly expense of rockets from the equation, and making space vastly cheaper. This structure would have to be really, really, really tall and be made out of some incredibly lightweight but incredibly strong material. Such a structure is called a space elevator and would take the form of the world's most expensive string with a counterweight attached to it.
Let's pivot for a moment to an experiment. Grab a string with a weight on one end and begin spinning it. Notice how it wants to pull away from you- that's called centrifugal force.
Imagine your hand is the Earth and the string with counterweight is a space elevator. The elevator will always be above one point on the Earth, so the easiest place for spaceships to dock with the elevator is GEO! Any higher or lower and the orbit wouldn't be stable; it wouldn't have that equilibrium we talked about earlier, so docking would be a real nail biter. Go lower and you'd be moving too fast. Go higher and you'd be moving too slowly.
Now, is a space elevator science fiction or science fantasy? The idea has been around for almost one hundred years, but we have nothing close to what would be required for a material to build such a structure. Graphene has been proposed as a possible solution, but we haven't figured out how to produce it at quantity. Verdict is an extremely plausible science fiction that could be reality within our lifetimes if we focus more on science research funding.
Eagle-eyed readers may have noticed that I placed orbital defense platforms in Low Earth Orbit (LEO). LEO makes a lot of sense for orbital defensive installations- the faster rotational speed (not higher than 127 minutes as compared to the ~24 hours of GSO) means that most orbital platforms will have the opportunity to fire, vent excess heat, reload, and fire again during an orbital engagement. Additionally, an orbital defense platform is unlikely to be as maneuverable as a ship and the added firing distance means that the defense platform has less rotational movement per shot- a huge boon to accuracy against potentially relatively fast-moving vessels.
Responses to questions:
I'm going to try a new section after the author's note- a response section. Here, I can answer selected questions from the previous chapter in a public and transparent way, especially since plenty of people are probably wondering the same thing.
Funkyshnelpu jr: "I'm confused about the date." A number of people have previously expressed some questions about this. Firstly, the dates in Mass Effect are the human calendar, not the council calendar. The council calendar is never explicitly stated except in a single off-comment in a codex: "The Citadel Council was founded in 500 BCE… The founding of the Council marks the beginning of the Galactic Standard (GS) calendar, the year 0 GS." Canonical Mass Effect humanity discovers the turians in the year 2157 CE through the first contact war, putting the council calendar at 2657, hence the discrepancy. Halo Humanity is placed in the same location as in the canonical universe with their own canonical timeline, since the two are not causally related in any way, shape, or form.
Redshirt07: "Great chapter, except for the 'New Texas Republic' reference... The inclusion is especially nonsensical since this is set after all of Earth has been united for centuries." Actually, that's not entirely true. From Halopedia:Unified Earth Government: "Many national governments continue to exist under the ultimate authority of the UEG, though their influence and importance has greatly waned. In addition, the individual cultures, languages, and other such unique characteristics live on among the people under the UEG as late as the 26th century. By the 26th century, the endonyms of several countries, including Hanguk and Deutschland, have been adopted into official usage alongside their exonyms." Texas has a sufficiently different culture from the rest of the United States (which has probably fractured from an earlier civil war by this point).
Prince Sheogorath: "...isn't it better to use Star system rather than Solar system? At least when aliens are concerned, since Solar comes from Sol, our systems star." Solar system does come for the word 'Sol,' but can be used for similar star systems- a star, some planetary bodies, etc. For example, the (somewhat) newly discovered 2MASS J23062928-0502285 (TRAPPIST-1) system from the 2016 paper "Temperate Earth-sized planets transiting a nearby ultracool dwarf star" by Gillon et al is an example of a solar system (doi:10.1038/nature17448).
