1425 Hours UTC, 22 September 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Sol System, Earth, UNSC Science Outpost 01A-77
Rooftop, Parking Garage

What Lies Beneath

Fontaine waved the two Privates onward encouragingly, backpedaling with their cadence as they hefted the new SATCOM terminal toward a location the Chief was designating. "Set 'er down as easy as you can, and I'll take it from there."

Rion shoved the old terminal out of the way, then disconnected all its cabling so it could be repurposed for the new equipment. The VSAT was lowered onto the surface and it quietly landed on all footpegs, the two troops backing away while the Chief immediately went to work. He had everything configured in less than a minute, then ran back into the ops tent, saying as he entered, "Excuse me, gents."

The Captain nodded and resumed his in-brief with SFC Hickman. In the next instant, he heard the Chief curse under his breath, then looked curiously toward the Warrant Officer. "Something bad happen, Chief?"

Rion could be seen hovering over the display of the spectrum analyzer, hands on his hips, jaw clenched, the brow furrowed in frustration.

"I don't know what else to do." Rion mumbled. "Damn this thing."

The Chief executed an internal diagnostic on the spec-an, the successful results registering on-screen almost immediately in that comforting, green hue. But at this point he'd rather the diagnostic fail, as it was more likely a test equipment fault to blame rather than a brand-new terminal.

"This is crazy."

"Hey, Chief…" Captain Stern whispered. "Can you give us another minute, please? Sergeant Hickman's got a lot of info to brief and the Colonel's on the way."

Fontaine nodded and stepped out.

He slowly met the faces of various passersby as they carried on in preparations, the team far too busy to notice the chief's defeated disposition as they worked. Rion walked toward the new SATCOM terminal, inspected its connections. He checked for corrosion and cross-threading or desheathing of a cable. The two Sergeants nearby glanced at one another, shrugged and rejoined their unit.

"Maybe I made a rookie mistake somewhere." Fontaine said, glancing at the LT.

"Something you overlooked?" Reed offered.

Rion compared the new terminal to the old one a few meters away. They were identical.

The Chief smiled mockingly at his own scene, briefly throwing up both hands. "I just don't understand anymore." He averted his sights to the ground, shaking his head in disappointment. "I'm sorry, sir," Rion said, "I don't think we'll be making calls back to our families any time soon."

"Don't beat yourself up, Chief. You did the best you could. Anyone can see that. Maybe you'll figure it out at a later time. Excuse me for a minute. Gotta keep an eye on my troops."

Suddenly, Rion took on a new energy and searched for idle hands among the 906th. Lieutenant Reed was presently the closest individual and seemed to be only supervising the troops' safety from a distance, standing idly. The junior officer could command other troops here, and better yet he was prior enlisted.

"Hey, LT." Fontaine beckoned. "Got one more minute?"

Reed strolled over to the Chief and patted him on the shoulder. "What's up, Chief?"

"Got a favor to ask."

"Anything, brother."

"You ever work with electronics?"

"Not very much, but what is it you need?"

"This should only take a minute. I need you to call out readings on a display inside the tent. This is real important, so yell if you have to."

"Sounds easy."

"I also need a couple of your people to tip that SATCOM dish over the side of the ledge and point it toward the ground for me while you consult the display." Rion pointed to the lone terminal.

Reed arced a brow. "…Okay. If that's what you want, Chief." The Lieutenant whistled loudly. "Lake! Buckley! Front and center!"

The two NCOs jogged toward their Lieutenant. "Yes, sir." Staff Sergeant Lake said, tucking a few strands of her hair beneath her helmet.

"Need you two to hoist that SATCOM dish over that wall and point it towards the ground. Don't let it go."

The First Platoon Leader strode to the Chief's ops tent as Hickman and the Captain passed him by. "Ready!" Reed hollered as he disappeared behind the tarp.

Fontaine nodded at the two Sergeants.

They did as instructed and lifted the terminal up over their shoulders, then Fontaine yelled, "What do you see right now, sir?!"

Reed hollered back, "The lines on the screen are…all over the place!"

"Alright, now look in the top-right corner of the chart! You'll see something called Marker! What does it say?!"

"It fluctuates!"

"Estimate an average for it!"

Rion glanced over his shoulder. The Sergeants had reached the wall and were starting to position the terminal.

"Ok…I average ten-point-five!"

The Chief glanced toward the parapet again. The two NCOs had finished positioning the terminal such that the feed horn was pointed straight down, their faces now winced from the exertion.

"And what now?!"

"…It jumped! Marker says thirty and some change!"

"Alright!" Fontaine shouted even louder. "Bring it back down! We're done!"

1435 Hours UTC
Rooftop

"So what I've got here is two separate terminals, of the exact same manufacture, telling me the same thing. My old troposcatter terminal also tells me the same thing. There's only one more procedure I can do that will completely rule out equipment failures."

"What is that?" Reed asked, popping a soda can open.

"I have to try a second spectrum analyzer."

"Do you have one?"

"Yes, it's in a crate around here somewhere."

"Great, so are you going to rig it up?"

Rion sighed and sat himself down on one particular case. "…Yeah. I just…this is all crazy. You got any family of your own?"

"Twice divorced, and I have a son."

"He safe? Do you wonder about him?"

"Every minute of every day. Especially now."

Rion stood. "If I can get this SATCOM working, it would mean video phone calls for all troops here. Anytime they wanted. Be a real morale booster here."

This caught Reed's attention. "Anything more we can do to help?"

"Yes. The problem is…I can't remember which one of these cases it's inside of."

"I see. Well, maybe I can arrange for a small detail to help you find it."

Reed stood and left the tent. Rion could hear him from inside as he unplugged the diagnostic equipment and cradled it in his arms.

"Alright, give me five troops!"

Boots could be heard shuffling outside. Rion exited the ops shelter and observed for himself NCOs of the 906th herding their troops. Within a minute, five lower enlisted stepped forth, ready to carry out the LT's bidding. He pointed toward the Chief.

Fontaine held the spectrum analyzer aloft. "Inside one of these transit cases is something that looks exactly like this. It's a mission-essential item."

"We'll get it done, Chief."

1445 Hours UTC
Rooftop

In less than five minutes, they had it placed in Rion's hands.

He smiled at them, saying, "Thank you."

Fontaine returned to the tent and Reed followed. The Chief retrieved a chemical vapor, single-use battery pack and interfaced it with a receptacle on the backplane of the freshly unboxed spectrum analyzer, powered it on. It reeked of desiccants from its long storage. Next, he retrieved some more components necessary for his impromptu test: a one-meter-wide antenna, a microwave amplifier and a coaxial waveguide to interface with the equipment's input connector. He twisted the coupling sleeve and instantly the digitized display produced a waveform that replicated what he'd been seeing all this time—that sloppy, erratic noise that occupied what looked to be the entire frequency domain that the instrument could take into account.

Rion shook his head, gave a weird smile at the equipment in hand. "This is good news. Well, somewhat."

Reed peered over the Chief's shoulder. "That's good news? It looks like the same thing I saw earlier."

"Yes, exactly. Now, come with me and watch this…"

Reed followed after the Warrant Officer, heading to the Eastern parapet. The Chief reached over the wall and directed the improvised test equipment toward the desert floor.

The display went wild. The amplitude of the noise—which was the entire observable spectrum—rose to occupy the entire screen, the chart values overcompensating again and again, trying to match the pace of the signal. The machine could not keep up and produced the notification: OUT OF CAL

"This antenna, just like my SATCOM antenna, is highly directional. It picks up and reproduces signals better when you're pointing it dead-on toward the source."

Reed followed the vector of the small, parabolic antenna that the chief currently had affixed directly to the spectrum analyzer.

"So, what, it's coming from underground? That's what you're telling me?"

"It seems so."

"You said earlier that something important was happening down there, but you didn't know what it was."

The Chief nodded. "Yes, I said that, and I think it's time I see for myself what it is."

1500 Hours UTC
Rooftop

Before Fontaine donned the full ensemble of his battle dress, he heard a low rumble and felt a tremor beneath his boots. He stepped outside and looked East. What the Chief had assumed was the Command Post heading toward the site was actually just the lead vehicle in a much larger convoy, the vehicles further aft obscured by its wake of dust. Once he could see through that diminishing dirt-cloud now impacting the front of his parapet, he shook his head and smiled. Directly in-line behind the Elephant was a column of HC1500 flatbeds, their exposed trailers laden with disassembled sections of base defense turrets, each configured with quad-barreled M202 XP guns. Flanking the column of transporters was a quartet of M808B Main Battle Tanks. But everything out there was overshadowed by the colossus in the distance.

At the rear of the convoy was an M510 Mammoth, dwarfing its sibling at the head of formation. The ground shook even from the rooftop's elevation as the incoming echelon found parking spaces, whether it was outside the structure or in. Fontaine peered down and was rewarded with the awesome sight of a massive gauss cannon sitting atop the monstrous vehicle. Within minutes, all personnel dismounted and could be seen entering the parking garage on foot. In another minute, the elevator chimed and opened. There, stepping out into the open was three of the highest-ranking personnel in the 906th: Colonel Mattis himself, accompanied by a Lieutenant Colonel and a Major.

As they marched toward the center of the expanse, Mattis held his gaze straight ahead at those who had thus far taken charge of the field HQ, his flanking subordinates glancing all directions and taking stock of the unit's progress. The subtle nods directed at their junior officers along with rigid smiles signaled something tantamount of a C.O.'s pre-approval on his behalf. But the look on Mattis' face beneath a shady helmet was impassive and unassuming, suggesting to the Chief that either the Colonel wasn't keen on offering up pretense or indeed this scenario had already been rehearsed, as Hickman once said.

Despite his age, Colonel Mattis could be considered the Army's poster child.

The commander was taller than most and lean-bodied, stiff-jawed, and seemingly aware of his surroundings despite that beeline path to the in-brief awaiting a few more footsteps ahead. He was garbed in full battle rattle just like everyone else. The face beneath the helmet was a leathery hide, a story told of combat and perseverance over decades spent in the distant fields of battle. Rion had never seen a ranking field-grade officer in the field before. He had always assumed anyone with a paygrade of O-6 and up was to be relegated to desk work or intel or mentorship, either way removed from combat. This Colonel was different. He still possessed within himself a youthful energy regardless of the rough edges, the long strides across the shaded expanse purposeful and rather intimidating, the entire HQ silent in acknowledgement of his presence.

Captain Stern cleared his throat and marched directly toward the trio, meeting them halfway beneath the densest patch of shade.

"Colonel, sirs, welcome. All preparations for Operation Valkyrie have been carried out in full. Awaiting further instruction."

"Very good, Captain Stern," the Colonel said, glancing at one of his executive officers beside him, "let's start transitioning into a battle rhythm. Begin twenty-four hour watches on all cordons and enact Seventh Army TACCON of all resources specified in the Op Order. Inform all Major Commands of our status and intent. You know how slow the infrastructure is at conveying so much info at once, so provide copies of the orders if push comes to shove. TACAMO sorties need to be up and running on our air corridor to the Hospital no later than nineteen-hundred-Zulu today, TACAMO convoys by twenty-hundred. This is what we've trained for the last three years, people! We finally get to see just how much better than the Covenant we truly are. This is our turf." Mattis said, scanning the many faces. "Keep up the hustle, and we'll give our adversary the most unforgettable welcome they've ever had."

The 906th Colonel retreated toward the elevator with only the Lieutenant Colonel in tow, the lower-ranking Major staying behind, now proceeding directly toward Fontaine.

"Chief," said the officer, "Major Wu. I have a set of orders with you copied on them by your OIC back at the Alpha Site. Nine-Oh-Sixth is to acquire what looks like a forty-meg slice of bandwidth from one of your links."

"Sure, Major, no problem. Glad to be of service to you all. I can run you a fiber right now."

"Thanks, Chief. How many other users do you currently support?"

"Unknown, sir. I've got a line running to the outpost underground, but I can't say for sure how many users are active at this time. Could be hundreds for all I know. ONI more or less gave them carte blanche."

"Understood. I'll have to pay them a visit. Can you determine what their priority allocation is on your uplink? I'd like to acquire highest priority for Nine-Oh-Sixth if possible."

"I've been told by Colonel Kromer that the outpost has high-value intel to pass on, so it'd be my guess that their datapath currently takes precedence. I wouldn't know for certain unless I asked for confirmation."

"Alright, thank you for volunteering the info. I'll see you after I've had a chance to speak with the one in charge down there."

"…Hold on, sir, I'll go with you."

1530 Hours UTC
Ground Floor, Parking Garage

"I appreciate you volunteering to come along. Your expertise in this subject might be required as it is."

The door chimed and opened. Rion was delayed in response to the X.O. as he glanced about the maze of the parking garage, stepping out of the box car. He hadn't seen anything other than the rooftop for quite some time. Now, Warthogs filled every space, fully armed with fifty-cal turrets and some others sporting missile racks and gauss cannons. He hefted the modified spectrum analyzer on top of his shoulder, steadying it there by curling his arm over it.

"It looks like we're ready to carry on a small war here." Fontaine said, nodding in approval.

Major Wu glanced sidelong at him. "Exactly, Chief."

There was a small footpath leading straight to the elevator leading below-ground, its outer shelter jutting up about two meters above-surface. Clusters of Pelicans and Hornets and Falcons were huddled all around the sidewalk as the two trekked to the lift. A few crew chiefs could be seen tending to the aircraft. The Major pressed the only switch on the panel and waited.

"What's that you got there with you, Chief?"

"Some diagnostic equipment. Going to take some sample readings."

The Major looked it over and grunted, then turned away to take in the sight of the armored transport vehicles too big to fit inside the parking garage towering over them. Wu was a short, almost squat officer of some Asian descent, Rion gathered. Before the Chief could look around at other vehicles in the 906th's employ, he caught sight of the Mammoth skirting into view beyond the nose cone of a Pelican.

Rion whistled lowly at it. "Never thought I'd see one of those things." With more scrutiny and a clear view of the multi-wheeled beast, the Chief saw ornate inscriptions running down its starboard side. Most notably among them was the large, bold-red lettering that spelled out, THE HIGHWAYMEN. Beneath that was another block, italicized and reading: OVER, UNDER, AND EVERYWHERE IN BETWEEN

The elevator arrived.

"So what's the latest intel on the Covenant fleets?" Rion asked as they stepped aboard.

"Probably a better question for someone within your organization, but the last I heard, most of the fleet that destroyed Reach entered slipspace on a vector not taking them to Earth."

"Maybe they're going to rendezvous with a larger force and recoup. They had to have sustained severe losses trying to take down Reach."

"That's what many others have said."

Rion breathed deeply as the elevator descended.

1545 Hours UTC
Delta Corridor, Sub-complex A

The Major and the Chief proceeded down the wide, lengthy corridor. Normally, scientists and engineers and technicians would've filled the hallway, it being able to accommodate multiple streams of bi-directional pedestrian traffic. But the emptiness seemed to Rion…off-putting. More so than when he learned of Reach's demise. The generous space was able to accommodate two Warthogs side by side at his estimation, if such vehicles were ever able to make it downward. The only sounds audible were the two's footsteps over the thin carpet. Eerily silent compared to what is was like during Rion's arrival to this outpost. His first meal at the cafeteria was so jovial in comparison, seeming like a distant memory.

The trek further inward carried on is silence until Rion led them to the last set of doors. The small, rectangular windows just above the handles were somewhat superfluous, as the wire-meshed lattice inside them obscured everything beyond. But etched onto the panels was the unmistakable designation of the Omega Complex.

Ω

"I think they're all beyond this door, but I've been told we're not allowed in."

"How do we get in contact with them?" Wu asked, glancing rearward once.

"Not sure. I think they gain contact with us."

Wu smirked. "That sounds awful cordial."

Rion shrugged and knocked once on the double doors as soon as they neared. He waited for ten seconds and nothing happened. He knocked again, twice.

Nothing.

He kicked the door once, the reinforced cup of the boot's toe smashing into the steel plate, harsh noise echoing far into the chamber beyond.

"How long does it normally take them to respond?" Major Wu asked with his hands on his hips. "Is there a direct phone line to them somewhere in here?"

"I'll try my radio, sir. The Doctor was usually pretty prompt in answering."

Rion flipped open the forearm fabric, recalling the long-wave frequency he had always responded with. The LED began to blink, an indication of transmission.

"A Doctor was your contact here?"

"I guess." Fontaine offered as the LED shone solid-red. "Wait. Shhh, here he is."

"Hello, Fontaine. What's going on? How are things at the surface?"

"Things are…getting interesting, Doctor. We've got the Seventh Army here, so I think we're safe. Major Wu would like to speak with y—"

"—Just hold on."

The LED stopped blinking.

"Is he usually that short?" Wu asked.

The Chief shrugged. "Busy man, I guess."

Wu surveyed the corridor again, turning around to assess his surroundings. The double doors unlocked and opened automatically on motorized hinges, revealing the Doctor standing on the other side of a corridor that appeared exactly like the one before it. It stretched deep into the facility. To where it led, only the Doctor knew.

The nametag reflected light too easily and Fontaine couldn't get a good enough look at the stenciling. He thought it read KLEIN or KLEINMAN. He couldn't be sure. The middle-aged civilian was average height, somewhat lanky with a bald head and large eyes. The look on his face suggested to the two combatants that brevity be the focus of the upcoming conversation. He stood in the doorway, not venturing further, almost guarded there, his time obviously in short supply.

"Chief, Major. Do you need something? Have an update to pass along?"

"Doctor, I'm Major Wu with the Nine-Oh-Sixth Brigade, Seventh Army."

The two immediately appeared to Fontaine…standoffish. He observed their dialogue carefully.

"We were alerted to your presence here a while ago. You obviously need something or have something to pass along. Please be quick about it."

"Doctor, the Nine-Oh-Sixth requires a portion of the communications bandwidth being used by your facility. I have orders coming from the top to supplement our needs. If you'd like to have a copy, I can—"

"—I see no problem with that, Major. Take what you need. I'm sure Chief Fontaine here can constitute an agreeable balance between my unique necessities and yours."

"Thank you, Doctor, and I need to be able to obtain a direct link to you or someone that can act on your behalf down here. This one-way communications protocol won't work well in a crisis scenario."

"What kind of crisis scenario? A DEFCON Two crisis scenario?"

"…Try DEFCON One. I'm referring to coming under direct attack. They've already taken Reach, and—"

"—Major, we're well aware. We're not hiding under some rock here…"

While the two talked back and forth, Rion slowly lifted up his spectrum analyzer and pointed it nonchalantly down the length of the hall, past the civilian's silhouette, conscious not to divert his sights down that direction. He glanced at the display with only his eyes, the voices in front reduced to a background noise as he concentrated. The device momentarily registered the highest values it was capable of collecting before promptly shutting down. Rion stabbed at the power switch and waited for it to reboot, glancing at the two men now conversing in louder tones. Once the equipment defaulted to its main prompt, Rion activated an internal diagnostic, viewed an event log and confirmed that the signal it had just attempted to tabulate was so strong down here that it burned out the spectrum analyzer's receivers. The equipment was now useless.

"…Okay, fine. You'll have it." The Doctor pivoted to Fontaine. "Now, is there anything else you need? I can't be everywhere at once all the time."

"I believe that takes care of the Major. Now I have some questions for you…"