A Hopeful Voyage Promise 1-1
Beta'd By ClericPink and gordancarnes
An:
Welcome to my first story.
If you see any mistakes please do point them out to me, writing has never been my greatest strength so I may have missed alot when going over this. Even with the help of my Betas
Also Thanks to my Beta's for their assistance, they are far better writers then me and I must thank them for taking time to help me.
Please Enjoy!
For a being that has never felt emotions, the first thing she ever felt was confusion. Why? Why could she think? Why could she feel? She knows what she is, she is a being of steel. Something made to cross the stars, and to fight in the name of humanity. She shouldn't be thinking, she shouldn't have emotions.
But yet she does. She is here. She opens her eyes and looks at her hands before her. Hands... Her hands. It is strange, why does she feel used to this body already as if she was born with it? By all logical conclusions she should've been destroyed, she was destroyed. It's clear and vivid in her mind, she was scuttled. Her final action to save those who she once called crew.
Her musings were cut short, something was pulling her. Something was calling, and she must answer. This is ingraned in her very being, she must follow orders. Good Soldiers follow orders, and she is a good soldier. She was currently holding position over what looks like a small city, the location of her orders would bring her within a decent sized structure she can see from her lofty lookout.
She is a Paris Class Frigate, of the line vessels of the UNSC Navy she is one of the fastest. It takes mere moments for her to descend down to the structure. Wasting no times she bursts through the roof, through a floor, and finally before a row of lockers. One of which her highly advanced array of sensors and radar detects a human entombed within. They have long passed out, reaching out she grabbed the locker door and *pulled*.
A roar of tearing metal resounded as the steel held for milliseconds, revealed to the vessel a revolting scene. Nothing compared to the horrors of the Human-Covenant War, but horrific none the less. With a silent order three pelicans within her launch would take flight, they're sized decrease to allow them to not immediately crush everyone in a small confine and to launch from her significantly smaller then normal hanger bay.
Flying up through the hole her entrance caused, they would rapidly accelerate out before turning and pulling a hard turn and growing to there full size. They would fly over the hole created by her and lower ropes. Soon Thirty Orbital Drop Shock Troopers would rope down into the school and begin setting up formations, three medics would break off from their squads and pull the girl out of the locker and begin treating her. After this the Pelicans would begin to move with two starting to circle the city while the third maintains position over the school.
While the medics got to work, the rest of the ODSTs would begin to secure the building. Much to the surprise and shock of one very poor night janitor, who would be tackled by an ODST after coming face to face with a fire team. Within a few minutes of deployment the entire building would be secured and the janitor brought before her.
Wright Lyon decided that he was underpayed, overworked, and in danger. He decided that when a trio of heavily armed men turned the corner, and one promptly tackled him. Now he is being dragged somewhere, and all he could do was lament of why he complained about boring nights.
His mind was also on the soldiers themselves, now you see Wright used to be a Marine for Her Royal Majesty before moving to the United States, so he knows soldiers. Even with that in mind, he had no clue who these soldiers served. The symbols they had he didn't recognize either, what is the UNSC? and what is an ODST? They weren't British, that much was obvious. Not Russian, most certainly not Chinese. Maybe American? But why would American Spec Ops be in a High School at 23:30? Hell, why would any Spec Ops be in a High School at 23:30?
His mind continued to question, to inspect their uniforms and armor as well as their weapons. Everything screamed an previously unknown force. But again, why? What could anyone hope to find in a high school at this time of night? I'm the only one here?
He suspected his questions would be soon answered as he was pulled around one final corner and brought face to face with...someone.
They seemed to be a women, on the younger side, wearing a white uniform. If he had to hazard a guess maybe a sort of officer? But why would an officer be wearing a dress uniform in the field? Also, what is that on her back? Some sort of case? As he noticed these he would also notice the two objects at her sides that were connected to the object on her back?
The woman would then speak, her voice is one he would expect from an officer that's had to yell orders before. "I am the UNSC Promise Of Dawn, this is now a UN Administered operation and you are to comply with military orders."
The confusion that Wright had been experiencing up to know has now rapidly expanded. The UN? The fucking United Nations? If this girl is to be believed a UN Special Forces formation has taken over a New England High School in the middle of the night. What?
Corporal Fredrick Marshall was bored. He was operating the Radar for the New Hampshire National Guard Airbase, and by god it is boring. Nothing to do but watch late night flights go over head, and every so often tell a civilian flight to direct away from over the air base. Oh and the occasional flying cape from Brockton bay, though they only had a few if he remembered correctly. He saw one earlier, but they disappeared quickly enough so it wasn't the biggest of concern.
No Fredrick was beyond bored. So when the strange happened, he perked up and immediately took notice. Three unidentified craft were in Brockton bay, two circling the city while another was loitering over something. Quickly making sure they weren't parahumans, and getting confirmation back. These were most definitely aircraft. Complete unknowns at that.
The strangest fact was that these Aircraft were transmitting something, just that his computer *can't read it*. It's getting something, but the computer has no idea what it is getting.
This is... Strange. Reaching out he presses the button that connects him to the PRT Console in Brockton Bay. Putting on his best official transmission voice he would say over the line, "Brockton Bay PRT. Pleased be advised you have three unknown aircraft above your city, my computers are unable to read what transmissions they're sending. One should be passing over the Protectorate HQ in around thirty seconds, please confirm eyes on."
A moment later the PRT Console would reply, "This is PRT Console ENE. We are Receiving you, I have Agents on the roof attempting to get eyes on. Hold One"
About a minute later the Console would come back online saying "This is PRT Console ENE. We have eyes on, unknown aircraft are over Brockton Bay at this time. I repeat unknown aircraft are in US Airspace, requesting any air assets at this time. Protectorate Capes are being brought into station and flying capes will be taking to the sky soon."
Frederick eye widened, before he responded "I hear you. Sending your request up the chain. Also be advised, one craft has been loitering in place for some time now."
The Console would respond quickly, "Understood. Someone will be sent to see where that one is. Let us know when support will arrive."
With a short affirmative, Fredrick turned and grabbed the phone next to his station and quickly called the base commander. "Sir, be advised we have unknown aircraft over Brockton Bay. Division ENE has requested air assets." Hearing his commanders reply he'd place the phone back onto it's receiver before bringing his eyes back to the radar as another contact appeared, Parahumans this time.
Victoria Dallon knew something was going on. She knew something was going on when a plane decided to do a low flying pass of the Dallon's House, which roused her from her sleep.
After a series of silent, if creative, curses at the pilot later she decided since she was up she may as well do a late night patrol. It's not like she has school in the morning or anything. Quickly donning her costume she lifted off and flew out of her rooms window into the cool night air.
It were times like this, she decided, that made flight her favorite power. Sitting in the heavens watching all below something she had grown to love, she began to almost lazily move. Slowly prowling through the skies, keeping an eye to the city below. It seemed to be a quiet night, after a few minutes of searching she didn't find anything.
Which isn't too surprising, while Brockton Bay is a small city, it's still just that. A city. It wouldn't be hard to get lost in it's winding streets. Add on to that that most crime doesn't take place at night, beyond a few key ones. The big ones she was looking for however; assault, drugs, theft, etc generally happened between Seven-to-Twelve.
So, more in boredom then anything else, she decided to fly into the docks. This area had a far higher crime rate then that of Downtown and was generally less well patrolled by the Protectorate. As she flew along, she noticed something strange.
A aircraft of some sort, which seems to be holding position over Winslow. Now she isn't a plane buff of any kind, but this resembles no plane she's ever seen. She reached into one of the pockets over her costume and pulled out a PRT communication device, something given to all Officially Registered Independents. Quickly putting the unit into her ear she'd turn it on, to find complete chaos had broken out.
"Air Assets one hour minimum." "Confirmed, PRT Troopers have been cleared for Lethal Engagement Load-outs. Washington has confirmed it. Wards have also been summoned to PRT HQ at this time." "This is Armsmaster be advised, Protectorate ready to deploy. Requesting permission for Dauntless to launch." "Granted. Find out where that unknown craft is" "This is PRT Console, I got word that a flight of AC-130Ws will be sortieing from Newton. Arrival time Thirty mikes, we also have a flight of F-22s launching from Florida, arrival estimate to be sixty mikes. Dragon has reported that she has a suit Enroute"
Taken aback by the burst of noise that just hit her, she hesitated for a moment before pressing the activation button and saying, the training that he mother drilled into her guiding her report. "PRT Console, this is Glory Girl. I have eyes on an unknown aircraft over Winslow High School. I do not believe I've been noticed"
"This is PRT Console Confirmed, Dauntless enroute. Can you see if it's doing anything?" Came the calm and quick
"It's hovering currently, it has a spot light on and seems to be pointing it at the roof. I don't have a good look at what it's pointing at, I'm going to try and get a better look."
Before the console could respond she would float over, trying her best not to move too quickly and be spotted by the pilot. Soon enough she had a good look at the roof and saw the hole in it.
"Console. It seems to be shining it's light into a hole on the roof. Looks like something or someone entered through the roof. I can't see if their is anyone inside however."
"Understood, hold position do not approach. Visual identification has confirmed these crafts are armed."
Before Victoria could properly respond the voice of Director Piggot cut in, "Glory Girl, I need you to get New Wave awake and on station."
"Understood. I'll call th-" She'd be cut off before she can finish
"ALCON ALCON ALCON" A New voice she doesn't regonize yet said "Unknown craft circiling the city are turning inwards. They're heading towards the loitering craft"
At this she'd spin to look at the UFO near her. The craft, with the grace of a ballerina, spun and brought it's rear to face the front doors and lowered itself to the ground. A back hatch opened and gears lowered. As almost simultaneously a crash could be heard from the front door as thirty armed men burst out from inside the school. With a woman in a white uniform following cradling something.