Section I – Surrogate Victor

Chapter One - Assignment

0747 Hours, August 30, 2552 (Military Calendar) /

UNSC Surrogate Victor, Epsilon Eridani System, in low orbit over Reach

SPARTAN-067 had barely grabbed a handhold before the Pelican's nose dipped and they impacted. His body was flung about as the dropship gyrated from the G-forces across the hangar bay, as the FFG-142 class frigate Surrogate Victor accelerated above the planet's atmosphere. The Spartan lost control of his grip as their Pelican slammed hard into the hangar bay wall.

He dropped to his knees, shaking away a moment's disorientation to survey the deck, his beeping shield indicator fading from ringing ears, as the reserve dim-lights kicked up and filled the room with a soft orange glow. SPARTAN-045, Rachel, was already on her feet and helping SPARTAN-109, Logan, stand up. Of course, Logan shook his head at Rachel's offered hand, and instead used his MA5B assault rifle to prop himself upright.

They had all just fought a racing battle from an orbital Super MAC gun generator to a last resort reserve Pelican, barely escaping the area before it was bombarded by searing streams of plasma pitch. The survivors of Fred's assigned Beta Team had formed Green Team, with Jack as their leader, and together they had reached their salvaged Pelican from the site. Jack knew the generator was lost once the Covenant began to swarm by the thousands. Fortunately, as they had fired the Pelican's engines, they'd been able to contact the Surrogate Victor as it was fleeing from the surface to join the battle, and were able to rendezvous for pickup.

The only problem had been, the Surrogate Victor was in such a hurry to break orbit that the Spartans' Pelican had to enter the hangar bay at top speed just to catch up. No doubt if they'd had to wait any longer to enter, the frigate would simply have taken off without them. Lieutenant Commander Alkaev Vladimir apparently wasn't a very patient man.

Rachel ignored Logan's stubborn attitude and turned to SPARTAN-067, cocking her head and saying over her external speakers, her voice cool, yet fragile as glass, "You alright, Jack?"

Jack nodded. I'm fine. Rachel never insisted on calling him Green Leader, or even by his number for that matter. She was the same way with all the other Spartans. Without her suit, no one would ever have figured her the military type. She always seemed so…civilian. But then again, that might not necessarily be a bad thing. After all, it was civilians they were fighting to save, wasn't it?

Then again, no one had seen her cold and ruthless behavior in battle, save her fellow Spartans.

The sound of a slight groan from the cockpit reminded Jack where they were, and he turned on the spot and entered the cockpit where SPARTAN-073, Ashley, sat strapped into the pilot's seat, looking over her twisted arm, which was being supported by SPARTAN-004, Eric. Even from where Jack was standing, he could tell she didn't look good. Hopefully it wasn't permanent, and could be snapped back into place.

Eric looked up at him, saying, "She's dislocated her shoulder. Can't tell if it's serious or not…"

"Can you fix her?" Jack asked impatiently. He caught himself, heard his own tone of voice. Why was he so angry? Eric would do his best. He should be thankful they'd all made it off of Reach alive.

But that was it, wasn't it. They'd failed. Reach was finished. Cities and people and whole forests and oceans were getting glassed, vaporizing into nothing but a molten rock, dead in space. Sure, there were other worlds, other people still alive in other parts of the galaxy, unharmed and safe thanks to the work of Spartans. But Reach was their world. Their home. When would come the day when Spartans were safe from harm? Jack turned his thoughts away from the notion.

Spartans were bred for danger.

Eric looked again at Ashley's arm, mumbling, "I think I can pop it back in, y-yes…sir."

Oh no, now he had Eric afraid of him. Then again, maybe now he would fight harder under his command. But no, Eric was always good at what he, what Spartans, did. He just couldn't...focus. Ashley had become his first priority, even over the team. If he began to doubt her safety, began to hesitate, like their hectic battle on Reach...he'd lose his determination, would disobey orders, perhaps even compromise the mission. He became useless as part of a unit. Jack, although he hated to admit that he thought it, wondered how it was that Eric was ever accepted to become a Spartan.

No. We're a team. I can't lose faith in my soldiers. And they shouldn't have to fear me. They should respect me. Otherwise, we're all dead in space like Reach.

"Do it," Jack said, and before he turned to leave, placed a reassuring hand on Eric's shoulder. But just remember: Ashley is a soldier too.

Jack entered the Pelican's deck to find Logan grunting to tear off a jammed hatch. Rachel stood behind him, shaking her head.

She noticed Jack as he approached, clicking on her external speakers so everyone could hear her whisper sarcastically in Logan's direction, "He's so strong."

The Pelican hatch crumpled and broke free, sending Logan and it thumping against the back wall.

Rachel continued, "And so graceful…"

"Shut up," Logan muttered.

Jack ignored their playful bickering and was the first to step out and hop onto the hangar bay floor, into the bright light. Medical and other personnel were hurrying over to the damaged Pelican. Jack could see several cargo crates they had torn through on their way down, as well as a long, steaming trail of grinded metal stretching halfway across the bay. They'd really made a rough landing. Jack was just glad they hadn't hit anyone.

A medic slowed his pace as he approached, staring up in awe at the looming, intimidating figure that was a Spartan. Nearly seven feet tall, clad in iridescent green Mark V MJOLNIR armor, it was not surprising that the medic had to swallow and put aside his amazement before asking if any inside were injured.

"There's one who's dislocated her shoulder and may need medical attention. Go in and see if you can help SPARTAN-004 to pop it back into place."

The medic saluted crisply, saying rather too loudly, "Yes, sir!" before hurrying inside the downed bird. Other men came and began inspecting the damage around the Pelican, while others merely took a glance before returning to their duties. After all, the Surrogate Victor was headed towards a Covenant fleet waiting in space. In minutes, they might all be dead.

As if his grim thoughts had set off a beacon, Vladimir's hollow, Russian-accented voice spoke over Jack's COM Channel.

"SPARTAN-067, report to the bridge, ASAP."

"On my way, sir."

Jack looked at Rachel and Logan waiting outside the Pelican's hatch, who stood at attention at his glance.

"Wait here. I'll be back with news," he told them.

They lowered their stance, Rachel giving him the two-fingered signature for a smile. Jack could almost picture her grinning through her faceplate. No matter what dire a situation they were in, she always seemed to know how to cheer everyone up.

Logan merely nodded and slung his assault rifle over his back, locking it into place. Although subtle, it was Logan's way of saying 'good luck' as well.

Luck. They'd need more of it soon enough.

Jack turned and stepped onto a lift, reaching behind him to retrieve his own assault rifle from his back. He glanced at the glowing blue ammo counter reading 07 bullets left, remembering how he had burst fired his way through Covenant alongside the rest of Green Team, tearing through swarms alike, racing to their Pelican.

It had been a close call.

o o o

The bridge doors parted with a soft hiss, and Jack clanked across the deck towards the commander's position. Vladimir turned at his approach. Jack snapped into a salute. Vladimir returned the motion.

"At ease."

Jack lowered his hand and allowed his shoulders to slacken a little. Vladimir gestured towards the main forward view. It took a moment for Jack to realize that the images flashing across the screen were pre-recorded footage. He looked at Vladimir and cocked his head at the picture of the old Halcyon-class cruiser he and his team had descended from towards Reach. It was weaving its way between drifting ship debris, both UNSC and Covenant, as well as asteroids, meanwhile fending off dozens of enemy seraph fighters, as well as seven pursuing Covenant frigate ships. Were the Chief and his team already back onboard and engaging the fleet?

"That is the Pillar of Autumn, set on an evasive course across the local asteroid belt. Watch here…"

Jack looked as suddenly points of light gathered at the front of the ship, and in a flash of light, it was gone. The pursuing Covenant ships followed right after it into the hole torn through normal space.

"That was an hour ago," Vladimir said, then hitting a button on his control panel, finished grimly, "this…is now."

The main display was filled with hundreds of Covenant ships: cruisers, destroyers, everything, all in formation, melting Reach beneath their volley of hellish fiery red plasma. Only now two destroyers turned away from the main group and headed straight towards them.

Jack couldn't quite place it, but something about the number of ships and their positioning seemed off from the usual criss-cross pattern the Covenant normally proceeded with. Odd. He'd ponder it later.

"Sir," Jack said, not taking his eyes off of the ominous view before him, "Are there any other survivors of the fleet? When was the last contact the Pillar of Autumn made with us? Is the Chief onboard?"

Vladimir shook his head, "We've lost contact with anyone else. The Pillar of Autumn left without a word. As for the Master Chief…I have no way of knowing. But that's why you're here." He turned towards Jack.

"SPARTAN-067, being the highest ranking officer in this system, I hereby promote you to Master Chief Petty Officer."

Jack was stunned. It took a lot to make him blink twice. He was filled with a sudden rush of pride and honor. But then he felt a sense of despair and dread.

Vladimir's replacing the Chief with me. He thinks he's dead. He knows he's dead, and won't tell me.

But before Jack could let his thoughts wander further, Vladimir continued.

"You are now in charge of all the Spartans and their operations."

All the Spartans? That's only us five here onboard. Not so much a change in command at all. I was already Green Leader. Now I'm a Master Chief. It was slightly scary, yet exciting at the same time.

I'll do my best to do whatever John would have done.

"Master Chief, I'm reassigning Spartan-117's mission to you. Once its safety was in doubt, the Pillar of Autumn's A.I. beamed a secure message to Reach HighCom containing the details while we were planetside. The capture of a live Covenant Prophet is in your hands. So then tell me: do we engage the Covenant and attempt to capture one of their ships? Or do we activate our Shaw-Fujikawa drive and jump out of system on a randomized vector? It's your call. I'm just your transportation."

Everyone on deck paused in their work to look at the Spartan standing by their commander, looking over the display at the oncoming Covenant vessels. They all tensed, deciding between preparing for battle stations or for a jump. Make up your mind! Some thought desperately. We're running out of time! Never trust a Spartan to take charge of space operations.

"Both," Jack said.

Everyone in the room looked at each other, at their commander, then back at him.

It was Vladimir's turn to tilt his head.

"My team and I will take a Longsword fighter and engage the enemy. We'll sneak by while you distract them. If you can lower one's shields, we can slip in and take it over. The second we're onboard, activate the Shaw-Fujikawa and jump to Slipspace. We'll take it from there."

Vladimir nodded with understanding. Jack was grateful he had found it a wise decision. In truth, Jack wasn't really in charge of the mission at all. Vladimir still had the authority to override his decisions if he'd wanted to. Maybe Vladimir wasn't so bad a commander after all.

"You heard him, get going! Evasive maneuvers! The Master Chief needs time to prepare and depart with his team," and turning to say personally to Jack, "One thing I must add to your plan, however," Vladimir said, "When and where do we rendezvous?"

"Sir?" Jack said, "I thought that you would return to Earth and spread the news of Reach. Maybe even return here to search for any possible survivors."

"Negative, Spartan. I'll be following you to this Covenant home world you're searching for. You'll need more supplies, reinforcements, and artillery than what you could bring onto any Covenant ship."

"Sir, our mission is not to engage the enemy in open combat. Our priority will be to infiltrate the Covenant system and get to their religious leaders. To do that, we can't have any human ships accompanying us and giving away our intentions. This is a stealth operation, sir."

"My decision is final. The Surrogate Victor will join your team on its mission."

Damnit, Jack thought. Why was Vladimir acting so stupid? Bringing along a human ship was completely contradicting their means of achieving victory. Why was he being so arrogant? Did he want a piece of the glory if they won? Was that it? Would he rather take a shot at returning to Earth to announce the surrender of the Covenant and the safety of all humanity than be the bearer of Reach's destruction?

The survival of my team and the success of my mission will not be compromised by an idiot like you.

But orders were orders. He'd have to deal with that situation later. Perhaps he could give a fake rendezvous point. After all, like Vladimir had said: this was his mission, a Spartan's mission.

"Yes, sir. Understood, sir," Jack replied bitterly.

"Good. We'll meet your team here at 0900 after our departure. We won't be late. Dismissed," Vladimir turned to his station and began assessing their battle predicament. Jack turned and left the deck, angrily jamming the down button on the lift.

What a waste of military command. Vladimir was most likely going to get his whole crew killed by following after his team of Spartans blindly on their already desperate mission. But he couldn't think of that now. He had to assemble his team for departure. He keyed the Spartans' COM.

"Green Team, listen up. This is Master Chief SPARTAN-067. Prepare for departure by Longsword. Grab close-quarter weapons. I'll brief you of our mission there."

Four acknowledgement lights blinked on his HUD.

Here he was, out of one hellish fight, ready to dive headfirst into the next. His fellow Spartans were gone, with maybe a few still alive, lost in space aboard the Pillar of Autumn. He was about to lead his only remaining brothers and sisters to certain death, attempting to board a Covenant destroyer with only a Longsword fighter. If the odds didn't look good, Vladimir might order the Surrogate Victor to make the jump and leave them in the dust, to become flash-fried like their home world Reach, smoldering below them, a ghost of humanity's last hope.

Time to get to work.