Chapter Two.
2100 Hours, 15th March, 2559 (Military Calendar) /
Orbiting the Planet Harvest, Epsilon Indi System /
Aboard the UNSC Hide and Seek
"Sir, Fourteenth Squad have just sent us a surface report - they've just defeated a Rebel ambush party and they've recovered data that pinpoints the location of a large Rebel complex to the north of Harvest - quite a lot north in fact." Catrina's clear voice woke Captain Marvin Jacoby from his fatigue-induced sleep. It had been a long day.
Marvin pulled himself up straighter in his Captain's chair and wiped a fleck of sleep dust from the corners of his eyes. He spun his chair round to face the holographic navigation table. A 3D render of Harvest was spinning slowly in the centre and he watched as it pinpointed the Rebel base and changed to a view of the surrounding terrain, the snow banks and jagged rocks becoming a blue-tinted reality on the table.
After a minute of examination and after reading Fourteenth Squad's report fully, Marvin thumbed a button on the arm of his chair and patched the Ship-to-Surface COM through to Fourteenth Squad's leader, Staff Sergeant Gregory Lachance.
"Lachance, come in, over." Marvin waited for a reply, the seconds seeming like hours. No-one was supposed to be within light-years of Harvest, let alone on it's surface. It was a dangerous place down there, and he didn't like it one bit.
"Hide and Seek, this is Lachance, reading you loud and clear - we've secured an ell-zee, requesting for evac, over."
"Evac request granted - we've got a Pelican en route to your location ASAP." Marvin sighed with relief. "Over and out."
Captain Jacoby watched as the battle-worn Pelican rocketed past the huge observational windows, engines burning a silent orange against the murky depths of space.
The Pelican touched down on the dirt, just as a Marine capped the green signal flare. Seven exhausted Marines climbed aboard the blocky grey dropship, weapons slung over their shoulders, some clutching their helmet under their arm and scratching profusely at their sweaty heads.
The pilot turned back to the squad and counted seven.
"Hey, where's the Staff Sergeant?" she asked, voice crackling over the small ship's speakers. One of the Marines yawned and then replied.
"Didn't he tell you? He went to find another LZ - Hide and Seek's gonna start a proper war down here!"
The pilot shrugged and punched a few buttons, slamming a lever into the upright position. Engines flaring, the Pelican hovered above the ground for a minute, then gained lift and took into the air.
Just as the blood tray started to close, the Marine closest to it cried, "Wait!" and held it open. "It's Sergeant Lachance!"
A lone figure, fatigues torn and ragged, skin scorched and stained with blood, staggered out of the forest, eyes wild with pain, adrenaline and fear. He turned back towards the trees and fired a burst from his assault rifle, just as an overwhelming group of over thirty Rebels burst from the shrubs and charged at the running Sergeant.
"Get this damn thing down there!" wailed the Marine, kicking down the blood tray and firing wildly at the Rebels, eyes moist with fear for his beloved Sergeant.
Lachance stumbled and fell, bullets tearing through his armor and spurting blood from his prone body. He crawled forward a few feet and turned up towards the Pelican, arms raised towards the sanguine sky, as red as the blood that poured from his ruined chest and face. The Sergeant looked one last time at his retreating Marines, tears streaming down his face, a fallen angel, a pleading soldier saying good-bye one last time.
A bullet whizzed through the air and cut through Lachance's head, finally slamming him down onto the dirt, where he did not move.
The sobbing Marine turned towards the shocked faces of his fellow Marines, and then collapsed onto the deck, thinking only of their dead Sergeant who had lead them through so much. And the Pelican arced on through the night, carried into space on the wails of it's occupants and the spirit of the dead Staff Sergeant Lachance.
Captain Marvin Jacoby watched the distressing scene on his monitor, face twisted in anguish as he watched the dramatic death of Lachance. The first death since the end of the war. It felt bitter on his tongue. He turned away from the monitor, unable to see it play again.
"Catrina, dispatch platoons 93rd though 103rd down on that Rebel complex - deploy the 26th Buffalo squadron with Warthog escorts down there, pronto."
"Aye aye, sir." she replied, calculations roiling across her shimmering robes.
"Winter-thermal dress advised - orders to take correct provisions and protocols. Prepare for harsh weather and frigid cold." Marvin stood up and stretched his legs.
"Settling in for the night sir?" asked Catrina, her voice straying between sarcasm and actual concern for his well-being.
Marvin looked around the deserted bridge - he had sent his crew to their quarters a while ago, leaving the ship in Catrina's more-than-capable hands.
"You know it, Catrina. It's been an... eventful day."
"Well then, good night and sleep well, sir." the AI replied, giving him a cheeky wink and a smile.
He smiled sadly and turned off the main bridge lights, stepping through into the elevator and punching the button for the Captain's quarters.
Marvin groaned as he opened his eyes to the dimness of his room - the lights hadn't turned on automatically, meaning it was sometime after midnight and a fair few hours away from dawn. Of course, there was no real "time" as such in space, but just thinking about it made his head ache.
The Captain swung his legs over the side of his bunk, smoothing down his heavily creased uniform as he did so. He hadn't napped for as long as his body would have liked, but then, what did he care? The men and women he'd sent down to the barren surface that was once the prosperous planet of Harvest were his responsibility, and while it was vital to rest so as to maintain his attention on the current siege, he had to be there for them.
Once again he exited into the steam-hissing corridor, batting the mist aside with a hand and coughing noisily into the other. The elevator ride seemed to take forever - he needed to know the situation down on Harvest now, dammit. At last the doors growled open and he stepped onto the bridge.
It was packed - totally crammed with crewmen and orderlies, the loud buzz caused by their concentrated chatter dying down as they all stood to attention.
Marvin returned their salute and they all returned to their seats. He called over his ops personnel, Lieutenant Hilary Jafford, who cleared his throat.
"Jafford - what the hell are all these people doing on my bridge?" barked Martin.
"Sir, we were struggling to keep up. These men and women volunteered to help us. They've been, erm," the Lieutenant fiddled with his uniform's high collar. "They've been a credit, sir."
Martin stood up on the raised platform his chair sat on, and clapped his hands. The room quieted once more.
"You all volunteered to help lead this highly dangerous operation without a second thought," he said, looking round at them all. "You have worked through to these early hours doggedly, and without want for rest. You are a credit to yourselves and your fellow crewmen - thank you all."
Martin jumped down from the platform, smiling both within himself and on the outside. This was something special, something he was intensely proud of, all of them.
"Thank you sir," beamed Lt Jafford.
"No, thank you," replied Martin. He turned towards the navigation table. "Now, Catrina, give the heads-up on what in hell's going on down there."
The AI flickered into existence, shimmering just a few inches away from the Captain's face.
"Sir, it seems to be going well, we -"
* * *
/Extract from a UNSC Carnage-Report, dated 16th March 2559 (Military Calendar)/Subject: HARVEST/
Under command from recently refitted Pheonix-class ship, the Hide and Seek, UNSCDF Marine platoons 93rd through 103rd, accompanied by the 26nd Buffalo squadron, were sent down to the untouched fragment of Harvest's surface under orders to capture and destroy a large complex attributed to the Reformed United Rebel Front, or RURF.
Before the forces even set foot on the surface, the Hide and Seek was decimated by several unidentified slugs, presumed to be fired from the complex itself. If this is the case, then the Rebels have gained a technological advantage over the UNSC and pose a serious threat.
The Hide and Seek was lost with all hands and wreckage from the ship fell through the atmosphere. The majority of it burned up, but the 97th and 102nd platoon were severely compromised after their Pelican transports were hit by debris and subsequently crashed. The remaining forces quickly vanished off-radar, leaving the complex's status and the size of the Rebel's force unknown.
Conclusion: The Rebels clearly have some sort of super-weapon in their hands, possibly a scavenged Covenant weapon, and are guarding it with all their might. Despite the heavy forces sent down to the surface, reports show that a large chunk of these simply vanished, with the rest being shot down or crashing due to debris. It is clear then that any force within reasonable parameters will not suffice, and with most of the UNSCDF concentrated on eliminating surviving Covenant forces and negotiating with the many other rebel groups, a large enough force simply cannot be surmised.
The Hide and Seek was was one only two ships even remotely near the Epsilon-Indi system. The other has since been declared MISSING.
Suggestion: Reactivation of the SPARTAN-programme.