0500 Hours UTC, 23 September 2552 (Military Calendar)/
Sol System, Earth, UNSC Science Outpost 01A-77
Rooftop, 7th Army Main Command Post
The Calm Before
Fontaine awoke with a light yawn and no memory of any dream taking place during his exceptionally-long rest. The faintest amount of light crested the horizon, evident by some of it streaming into the wavering tent seems flapping in a gentle breeze. He rolled over and checked his watch: for more than nine hours he lied asleep. He felt incredibly well-rested and instantly alert. It reminded him of the vigor he once knew well of his teenage years, the youthful spark that became ever-dwindling once he got around to his mid-thirties.
But today was different for him. He rose slowly with ease, rolling up one of his pant legs and assessing his recent wound. It had already healed and was fully scabbed over. All was quiet as he sat there for a moment at the cot's ledge, wondering if he should satisfy the morning hunger with a quick cheat from the fridge or venture elsewhere for a more hearty meal. He glanced around the tarp confines—still dark inside except for areas where the tarp didn't quite sit flush with the rooftop surface. With no ONI tasking or locally-significant matters to lend assistance in, Rion mumbled, "Steak and eggs it is."
He took his time getting ready, remembering he now had a sidearm to look after. Once fully garmented, a cool and gentle breeze permeated his fatigues as he pushed the entry flap aside. The full circumference of the sun hadn't yet transcended the Easterly horizon, and he had the clearest view of Mombasa he'd ever get. He paused there for a moment, taking it all in, breathing deeper, intermittent gusts pelting his face. He smiled and stretched, thinking this place was worth a good fight even if Earth wasn't the last of all the worlds he'd known. He then noted the blood-hued clouds further aft of the twin cities, collecting there and riding the prevailing winds ever closer.
Red sky at morning, sailors take warning. Rion mused the age-old folk saying.
He surveyed the rooftop, noting the state of the equipment, making sure anything critical was still weather-proofed. To his content, nothing changed. He then noticed there was no more sniper-scout teams present here, either relocated to lower levels or having relegated the lookout duties to the swarms of drones now patrolling the outlying vicinity. He was alone here while scanning the entire perimeter of the rooftop from where he stood. He yawned again. Rather than moseying toward the elevator, Rion decided to take further ganders at the facility on his way down to a meal by proceeding to the central ramp.
He accomplished two steps and realized he'd left his equipment inside the ops tent. He marched back inside to heft the electronics once again for another journey, this time into an empty transit case waiting below inside the larger and more accommodating living tent where it would spend the duration of its deployment until needed again. Before grabbing it, he hesitated, and his pointer finger began to twitch. Rion rubbed at his chin and jabbed at the unit's power switch.
After the procedural POST, the display came to life again, brightening. He wondered if humoring his curiosity would prove productive, but in a few seconds surmised it was a good thing he did.
Now, across the entire receivable spectrum, Rion saw a completely different kind of signal than before.
Though the same, inexplicable noise floor was evident and prevalent as times before, there was clearly a structure to be seen here and now. Tiny spikes—narrowband pulses within this observable domain—were materializing and disappearing at seemingly random arrangement across the breadth of the horizontal axis. Popping up and down very fast—so fast that he didn't think this Analyzer was capable of sampling at such a rate.
Rion maintained his watch on the display while veering toward the cot for a front-row seat at the show. He rested his elbows on his knees and squinted in delight or amazement or confusion, or maybe all three. He'd never seen or heard anything like this—ever. He simply watched as this behavior went on for ten minutes. There was no change occurring other than the randomness of the sub-carriers embedded within this white noise, and it showed no signs of stopping or relenting.
He checked his watch: going on fifteen minutes. He rushed toward the display and made sure the logging buffers were capturing this. He even withdrew his personal communicator and took a video of the equipment, himself, the ops tent, and especially the equipment's display. He got up close and made sure to capture the equipment's configuration parameters on-screen as well.
After stowing his communicator back in his pocket, he stood, glancing at the display as he exited the tent.
The light of day was now stronger than before. The sun broke through the lowest reaches of the sky and was beginning to evaporate the dew collected on all surfaces. The storm front was approaching and would precipitate at some point in the day. Soon, the sun would rise high enough and situate itself behind the obscuring, grey mass. Rion kneaded his hands together and could no longer ignore the hunger in his stomach. He sealed up the outer lining and checked his surroundings again, walking briskly toward the elevator.
He had a lot to think about now.
0540 Hours UTC
Ground Floor, 7th Army Main Command Post
"Hey, Chief, there's showers on the second floor if you need one." Fontaine heard a soldier say.
The Warrant Officer glanced over the shoulder to find one of the motor pool mechanics tending to a dismantled turbine, its various components soaking inside of a parts-washing bin.
"Are you handy with tools at all, Chief?"
"Some," Rion stopped his brisk walk back up to the rooftop, "why?"
"Could you give me a hand with something over here?"
"Sorry, soldier, no time. I'm kind of in the middle of something and I gotta get topside. I'll see if I can point someone toward you on my way up."
The mechanic looked around and reached for a clean towel for a wipe across the face. "Don't' sweat it, Chief, I'll find someone."
Rion looked back once. "Sorry."
He resumed his path to the elevator and the Chief caught sight of Sergeant Lake in a solo session of calisthenics, doing pushups with her feet elevated on a ledge. At first glance, Rion arced a brow in surprise. She was seriously pumping them out, carrying on at a pace he normally would. She glimpsed upward at him, paused in mid-rep and gave the Warrant Officer a thumps-up. He nodded back at her, thought about offering his thanks to her for the efforts she'd lended him recently, but then assumed he would get the chance at a more appropriate time.
He pressed the only button to call the elevator.
Once the doors parted at the top, he resumed the brisk pace back to the ops tent, scanning the East as he walked. Rain was no doubt headed this way. He could see it already coming down at the farthest point, a dark curtain draping the metropolis. Cradled in the crook of his right arm was a clear, Tupperware container full of his favorite breakfast food: Eggs Benedict, a bowl of oatmeal and a handful of fruit. The 906th had already set up a chow hall line at the second floor opposite the living quarters, with regular runners fetching everything from below decks. He'd no longer need to venture there himself for sustenance. He opened the tent and sat the container down on the table next to the spectrum analyzer, noting its display.
The bizarre waveform was gone.
"…What the?"
It was back to normal, the screen nearly blank, the noise floor attenuated to almost nothing as it always should've been. It somehow disappointed Rion just as much as it perplexed him. He shrugged at the thought of it, instantly realizing that he had at least garnered plenty of evidence this whole time. He'd been witness to some very strange things here, and he doubted anyone would take him seriously even with such compelling data findings. Only like-minded and equally-skilled professionals were capable of understanding him if and when he decided to disclose any of these events. For now, he smiled contently as he started on the oatmeal. After a few bites, he reached for the fridge and took a can of cold orange juice and savored its sweetness.
And far off in the distance, he heard the first crack of thunder.
1300 Hours UTC
Ground Floor, 7th Army Main Command Post
The downpour was loud. The sound of heavy water drops crashing down onto the structure and the surrounding plain drowned out every other noise, even the crew chiefs initiating pre-flight spool-ups of the various aircrafts' turbines just outside the Southern front of the Garage. The lengthy orderwires stretching from the structure's interior to the shrouded connectors on the vessels' hulls afforded every technician the thankful means of conducting their tests out of the elements. The massive, two-story fuel bladder previously laden above a flatbed truck was parked not far off, its protective Titanium crown sending the droplets ricocheting in all directions.
Rion saw small puddles collecting beneath each ledge of every level, the torrent so fierce that the wind currents brought some of it right through the camouflage that essentially netted the entire place. He could hear the vertical drain tubes evacuating water from the rooftop as they transitioned through each level and into to some unseen reservoir deep below ground every time he ventured near one of the PVC conduits. Wandering aimlessly was now his charge, much the same for many of the 906th personnel stationed here. Dog Company's presence was all but superfluous for the time being, their function as a reserve & relief force not ready to be put to the ultimate test.
"Hell of a storm."
Rion wheeled around to see Lieutenant Reed standing with his back resting against a pillar near the West side, the leeward side of the squall. The prior-enlisted LT was dry as the desert basin was a day ago, loitering there with an electronic cigarette pinched loosely in-hand.
"Thought it wasn't supposed to be the rainy season until at least a couple months from now." Rion responded, halting as if deciding to speak casually with someone for a while.
"There's two rainy seasons here, and yes, this is definitely a fluke." Reed looked away and outward, beyond the ledge and into the solid sheet of rain. There was nothing but gray. "Not a good omen."
Reed flashed a toothy grin as if he would welcome any sort of conflict every day of the week.
He sighed, saying, "Truthfully, I'm a little bored. Most of us are. We didn't get all dressed up for nothing, you know." Reed puffed on the smoke.
Rion pursed his lips and offered a slight nod at the Lieutenant. "Well, sir, we'll get our shot soon enough. You're not alone in the waiting game, either. Always hated it, myself."
Reed shoved his back off the reinforced concrete and deactivated the drug with a swipe of a finger along its length, smiling again. "Well, Chief, we've done all we can to prepare. I'm confident. I know you are. You hungry?"
Fontaine checked his timepiece. "Yeah, sure, I've got some time to grab a few bites, I guess."
1320 Hours UTC
Second Floor, 7th Army Main Command Post
The Chief and the Lieutenant side-stepped through the serving lines.
Other soldiers in between shifts found themselves shuffling with them, picking away at what offerings there were. It was all the same, delicious and remarkably fresh food as below decks, but by order of the Deputy Commander the food was now to be rationed. Soldiers couldn't stuff themselves silly and it was for good reasons. The force needed to be lean and alert, not content and lethargic…and there was no telling when the food would run out. Only the staff underground had any idea when that would occur—another item to be rectified on Major Wu's growing to-do list…once he'd get the opportunity to confidently march all the way inward. But that, too, was only a matter of time. And the troops were growing restless as all humans do—regardless of how much training and discipline they could throw at themselves. Some were better at postponing it than others, but it was evident.
The entire CP's functions were now on auto. The conveniences of modern-day warfare enabled all these efficiencies.
Most in the line favored the hot meals while the rain and the winds drove the cold air in and out of the porous structure like a street musician's accordion.
"So how's that equipment of yours doing?" Reed asked while plucking an apple from a basket.
Rion chuckled. "Which one?"
"That analyzer tool of yours."
"Yeah. Well, it can still keep reading what's out there. I hope it stays that way."
"Still think something strange is going on?"
"Of that, I am certain." Rion sighed. "But it seems it just might've gone away."
"How do you know?"
"Earlier this morning, that signal was acting especially crazy. Half-hour later, it vanished without a trace."
"Has it remained that way?"
"I'm not sure. I haven't checked up on it since the rains came. Maybe I will, later."
"If all that interference is still gone when you get back up there, does that mean your other equipment is safe to bring back on-line?"
Chief looked down and smiled at the young Lieutenant. "…Perhaps."
"Well, good luck with it. From what the Major's been telling me, we need all the luck we can get. Let me know if you need any help with any of it. I'm bored outta my damned mind."
"It might be a while. From what I've seen, the roof doesn't drain all that well. It could be a miniature lake right now."
"Yeah, it looks like your tent on level twelve is better than the one you have on the roof anyways."
"That's where the spectrum analyzer is for now. I can check up on that aspect, but the other terminals are up high in the weather. We'll get to those later. I don't think this storm front is all that big. Should pass before the end of today."
"Do let me know how the next reading on the analyzer turns out. Major's pretty busy and hopefully I can fetch him your info without him trying to be two places at once."
"Understood." Rion peered at Reed's plate as the two found a seat at a table. "What'd you get there?"
"Panino."
"Italian, eh?"
Reed grunted at the first bite.
"Not bad." Rion nodded. "Got myself a succulent Chinese meal."
"This food is the only thing keeping this place sane right now. That reminds me…we really appreciate you giving us the ability to phone our families."
"Least I could do for you all," the Chief said in between bites, "just let me know what else I can do to keep the fight up when it comes our way."
"How about you? You keeping in touch? Had a chance to contact your family lately?" Reed pointed at the Warrant Officer.
"Yep. All's well. I'll probably phone again tomorrow to let them know everything is alright."
"Just tell them you're bored. That's what I always do. It's a sure-fire way to settle 'em down and ease the fears."