What was my inspiration for this novel? A moment in Game of Thrones, when Bronn guffaws as Samwell's young brother tells his first name: Dickon! The taunt from the crude mercenary seems to upset the heir of House Tarly, just like if he had endured this kind of reaction much too often before.
Usual disclaimer: The elements of the Halo universe used below are borrowed from the video games by Bungie and 343 Industries (Microsoft). Please forgive the fact that English is not my native language.
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The Pelican dropship started its landing approach, as it got closer to the starboard hangar bay of the Charon-class frigate stationed in low planetary orbit over Reach. The troop carrier aircraft had a capacity of ten seats; but on this occasion, only two distinguished passengers enjoyed the full volume of the main compartment: two Spartan-II soldiers, one male and one female, wearing the same verdigris armor, and the same blind helmet with reflective visor. Their numbers were clearly screen printed on their chest: 038 for her, 069 for him. Sat at some distance from each other, both giants looked as still and silent as statues of warrior gods.
The Pelican landed on the inner pad upon the completion of a maneuver as perfect as if it had been guided by an invisible wire. The pilot lowered its ramp at once. The male Spartan, 069, was the first one to leave his seat; 038 looked much less hurried, as if she was emerging from a restorative sleep or meditation. As he walked down the ramp, 069 noticed that several teams of UNSC shock troopers were equipping themselves in another area of the hangar bay: most probably, they were the ODST platoon that was to support 038 and himself during their classified mission.
But as soon as the Spartan's armored big foot hit the pad floor, he was approached by a petty officer handling a data pad – the local controller, quite obviously. The little man swiftly saluted him:
-–- Welcome aboard UNSC Polemarch, Sir. I guess you are the two Spartans whose arrival was scheduled?
««The war is won beforehand, with geniuses like you!»» 069 thought – yet did not say aloud.
-–- Yah, here we are, the armored titan eventually just confirmed in a terse way.
The petty officer didn't look willing to give way to the green giant, though. ««This one is a top-level pain in the ass...»», 069 quickly assessed. The gnome with the data pad wasn't long to confirm this judgement:
-–- Well well... I'm sorry to bother you, Sir, but I need to check your identity. Just the usual routine security procedures, you see...
069 had some personal reasons not to be keen on giving his full name to a newbie. So he loudly sighed inside his helmet, in a probably vain attempt to get rid of this damned pubic louse:
-–- Officer, do you really think I may be a Grunt trying to pose as a Spartan, just by wearing a Mjolnir armor?
-–- Er, I suppose not, Sir, the pen-pusher admitted. Still, I am explicitely requested to register a name, besides the number that I can see on your chest. So, can I get your full name, Mr. 069?
The colossus sighed again, and finally surrendered when he stated in a toneless voice:
-–- Dick-069...
As usual, the Spartan had pronunced: «Zero-Six-Nine». But as usual as well, the bloody moron that was facing him intuitively found a much more vexatious and exasperating way to read his name. The sucker with the data pad raised an eyebrow in surprise, and started to giggle:
-–- Dick o' sixty nine?! Honest, Sir? Whowh, seriously, how could they give you such a number, that makes your name sound like a porn actor's?
««Now that's a meaningful question at last...»» D-069 thought. A question he had asked himself countless times before, without having ever found out any satisfactory answer. As for the stupid logistic minion in front of him, Dick restrained the urge to clout his idiotic face. First, because this probably would have sent his head rolling thirty feet away from his neck, which would have let an embarrassing spot in the Spartan's records – and this insignificant bug wasn't worth that. And second, because D-069 was suddenly feeling incredibly tired...
A synthetic feminine voice unexpectedly sounded behind him:
-–- Relax, Dick. The little boy is only doing what he's asked to do...
038, his female counterpart, was walking down the Pelican's ramp in turn. Standing, she looked even taller than D-069.
-–- Welcome aboard UNSC Polemarch, Ma'am, the untiring pen-pusher nagged again at seeing her. May I also take your full name?
-–- J-038, officer. J is for Judy.
-–- And does 38 stand for anything special at you, Ma'am? the petty officer jested while mischievously casting a side-eye at Dick-069.
-–- Well, apart from the exact measurement of my breast, you mean? No, not really.
-–- Oh, er... Interesting fact, Ma'am, the poor sod awkwardly noticed.
The hangar bay janitor had a swift look at his data pad, then added:
-–- ...Ho, and the captain wishes to meet you both ASAP. I suppose you'll find your way to the command bridge, aboard a classical Charon-class frigate?
The helmeted tall female soldier nodded silently, then punched her teammate's shoulder and invited him to follow her:
-–- Come on, let's try not to be late...
««Please, oh please Judy, D-069 thought, don't add one of these stupid nicknames!»»
-–- ...Copy, "Big Dick"? J-038 added.
The bitch had done it, again!
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[ ... To be continued
on the bridge of UNSC Polemarch ... ]
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