SECTION I: REVELATIONS
Chapter Two: The Woman in Black
1238 Hours, February 21, 2557 (Military Calendar) \
Office of Naval Intelligence Research Station 054323-45 "Prometheus", Location Classified
Commander Atwood frowned. Upon opening the file, he noticed several things. First, the file was heavily redacted, even the pre-Spartan service history. Onyx Five was clearly a mysterious individual. Second, the CSV was at least four times that of any ODST on the station, an impressive feat. But still, he couldn't read any of it.
"Black-Box, get rid of all this. Let's see who Onyx Five really is." Upon his command, the AI went to work. He scrubbed away the work of the ONI censors like a child wiping away letters in the sand. Within seconds, the full CSV floated in front of Atwood, with all redactions gone. Atwood nodded and took a swig of water from a plastic bottle.
"Do the same to the other four records. Let's not waste time." Black-Box's avatar tipped up and down, doing what could be best approximated to a nod. His cold mechanical voice rang out just seconds later. "Done. Shall we begin?"
Atwood poked the hologram with his index finger, opening it fully. Black-Box began to narrate. It was more for his pleasure than Atwood's, but the commander didn't mind. It was useful to have another set of "eyes" on the document.
"Spartan Yasmin Rajavi, service number 15270-73060-YR. Born on October 25, 2528 in County of Newton, State of Mare Nubium, Luna." A picture of Yasmin popped up. She was quite beautiful, with caramel skin and shoulder-length black hair. A long scar ran from her right ear across her cheek to her chin. Her eyes were a soft brown: inviting rather than frightening.
"Mother was Commander Sana Rajavi, teacher at the Luna Academy." Atwood tapped on her mother's name, opening an ancillary file. Now he spoke. "Amazing. Commanded the UNSC Ulysses during the Second Battle of Harvest, received the Legion of Honor for her efforts. What did she teach at the Academy?" He scrolled down, his eyes flashing across the page.
Black-Box highlighted the relevant information in yellow. "Advanced Orbital Tactics. I remember that class. It was…" He looked up at Black-Box, who somehow managed to look unamused. "Never mind. Continue."
The AI cleared his imaginary throat and began to narrate once more. "As I was saying earlier, she was born in a hospital at the OCS Academy. A mere eleven months after Yasmin's birth, Commander Rajavi was sent back into the fray by the orders of Vice Admiral Cole himself. She was given the brevet rank of Rear Admiral and given command of a small battle group tasked with defending the Outer Colonies." A holographic representation of a small UNSC fleet replaced the file. The battle group was commanded by a Marathon-class heavy cruiser, the UNSC Baghdad.
"On August 12, 2532, Battle Group Baghdad engaged a fleet of five Covenant battlecruisers over Sansar. All fifteen ships were lost with all hands, Sansar glassed soon after." The holographic representation faded away, once again replaced by Yasmin's file. Atwood looked sympathetic to her plight. Even though he no longer remembered his parents' names, he still remembered their faces, the soothing tone of his mother's voice. The pain of their loss had stayed with him for his entire life.
"Early psychological evaluations of Yasmin indicated an extreme hatred for the Covenant, combined with a keen tactical sense. At age 17, she enlisted in the Navy, being selected for OCS straight out of basic training. After only two months at Luna Academy, she was placed in the Naval Special Warfare School, training as a member of NAVSPECWAR Team Bravo-One-Two."
Her service history zoomed in on her training record: near perfect scores in weapons training, tactical exercises, and stealth techniques. "Yasmin, now a Lieutenant and commander of Team Bravo-One-Two, fought first against the Insurrection. Deployed across the colonies, she completed eleven high-risk missions against various targets."
A bevy of operations files flashed open, inundating the Commander with information. "One mission in particular stands out. In January 2549, she and her team deployed to Mamore as part of an anti-insurgency taskforce. Bravo-One-Two was tasked with the elimination of a fifty-man Insurrectionist cell operating out of the capital. Lieutenant Rajavi inserted into the Insurrectionist stronghold before the rest of her team, killing at least twenty-five enemy soldiers and the cell's leader. The survivors claimed that they only saw 'a women in black.' The members of Bravo-One-Two, and soon the entirety of NAVSPECWAR, came to call Yasmin just that: The Woman in Black."
A mission report from Operation: JESTER flashed up now, which Atwood skimmed briefly. He was amazed: Rajavi had entered the compound without a support team and only armed with a M7S submachine gun. She had killed at least seventeen Insurrectionists before opening a back door to let the remaining members of her team in. She then killed another four Insurrectionists, running out of ammo and forced to kill the enemy leader, a former ODST, with her bare hands.
"This mission record runs more like a Headhunter op. It's impressive." Black-Box signaled his acknowledgement with a simple nod and continued to narrate. The mission record disappeared, replaced by a picture of Yasmin in full dress uniform being awarded the Silver Star by Admiral Stanforth in 2550.
"After receiving the Silver Star, Rajavi was promoted to Lieutenant Commander and was given command of NAVSPECWAR Troop Bravo-One. She was soon deployed across the Inner Colonies to help stave off the Covenant advance. Taking part in a number of zero-G operations, Commander Rajavi was wounded over Fumirole and returned to Reach for medical leave."
"When the Covenant invaded the planet, she was called back to active duty and deployed in New Alexandria alongside ODST units. However, following the loss of Olympic Tower and the arrival of the Fleet of Particular Justice, the Commander was evacuated on the UNSC Glamorgan on the direct orders of Admiral Parangosky. The Glamorgan escaped into slipspace just as the Covenant began to glass the planet."
Atwood frowned: why would the head of ONI want a lowly Lieutenant Commander evacuated from Reach? He knew from experience that only the most important personnel were able to get seats on the few transports able to make it off-planet during Reach's demise. If Parangosky wanted her, then Yasmin Rajavi must have been one hell of an asset.
"It appears that Admiral Parangosky met with Commander Rajavi on September 23, 2552. After the meeting, Admiral Parangosky forced NAVSPECWAR to promote her to full Commander and then deployed her aboard the UNSC Infinity. She was to join growing shadow force of operators to be utilized in hit-and-run operations in the event of the UNSC's fall."
Atwood smirked. That was Serin's old command. It was a great example of Admiral Parangosky's motto: "Strength through Paranoia." Following the disaster at Reach, ONI secretly began to stockpile assets outside the Sol system for a guerilla campaign against a victorious Covenant. Infinity would have taken part in the campaign, once she reached completion in early 2553. However, the ensuing Battle of Earth and the fall of the Covenant ended the need for such an operation.
"Following the end of the war, Commander Rajavi was once again deployed to the Outer Colonies to quell the resurgent Insurrection. In February 2554, she participated in the UNSC's campaign on Draco III, working alongside Spartan-III operators in the combat theater. Receiving the Colonial Cross for exceptional gallantry during the Great War, Commander Rajavi was forced into mandatory leave for six months."
Atwood raised his hand, and Black-Box paused. Atwood expanded the file with a swipe of his hands, scrutinizing it for a moment. "Says here her recruiting officer was Jun-A266. Wow, she must have been something special."
"Yes, she is."
Spartan Yasmin Rajavi walked out of the Spartan barracks. She wore her fatigues, having changed out of her armor a few minutes before. The atmosphere in the barracks was too much for her to handle, so she decided to find the O-Club on the station. A drink would feel great right about now.
Her right shoulder itched. She grimaced. Not this again. The phantom limb continued to irritate her as she walked down the hallway. The prosthetic arm whirred as she clenched her fist, willing the feeling to disappear. It continued unabated. It's so fucking frustrating sometimes.
After nearly half an hour of searching, she finally found it: a compartment located on Deck E where most of the officers and scientists lived. The Spartan noticed a small security panel to the right of the door. It read her neural transmitter, flashing green as it recognized her as an "officer." Perks of being a Spartan, I guess.
The door slid open, revealing a converted storage room. Apparently, ONI hadn't built an Officers' Club originally, so the men and women of the station had gone to work. A beautiful oak bar stood at the far side of the room, with a young Lieutenant JG acting as a bartender at the moment. Spread throughout the room were leather armchairs, oak tables with matching chairs, and even a small library of paper books. Something you don't see every day.
The Spartan stepped into the room, the door sealing shut behind her. The room was mostly empty at the moment, with only a few naval officers and some scientists occupying chairs at one of the tables. Yasmin strode over to the bar, her heavy footfalls garnering the attention of everyone in the room. Still haven't gotten used to that. When she served with Delta Company, she was around other Spartans constantly, and never really paid attention to their quirks.
However, as the only augmented individual in the room, she became painfully. Clocking in at around six foot four inches, the Spartan towered over almost any human male. Yasmin weighed around one hundred ten kilograms, and while she hadn't lost her womanly curves, her muscles were toned beyond human capacity. This is why I like the armor. Inside her armor, she got different looks: ones of admiration, even fear. Bared as she was now, Yasmin felt like people were silently judging her as a freak of nature.
She ignored those thoughts and stood in front of the bar. The JG had turned around, her hands thoroughly scrubbing a dirty glass. The Spartan cleared her throat to grab the officer's attention. The young woman turned around, her jaw dropping at the sight of the supersoldier standing in front of her. This must be her first time. Yasmin spoke up, her voice filling the awkward silence in the room.
"Give me a scotch on the rocks." The JG simply nodded, wide-eyed at her new patron. As the young blond woman turned around to fiddle behind the counter, Yasmin turned to look at the other occupants of the room. One of the Marine lieutenants was currently dealing in a game of poker, with two naval lieutenants and another three scientists taking part. A lieutenant commander, an engineer by his uniform, was sitting in one of the armchairs, a beer in his hand. He noticed the Spartan glancing at him and raised his drink in acknowledgement. Yasmin simply nodded and turned back around to find a neatly made scotch sitting in front of her.
She'd picked up an affinity for the drink at OCS, where a certain Scottish lieutenant had introduced her to it. Unfortunately, the lieutenant had died aboard the UNSC Culloden just a few months after graduation. The last time she had seen him, they had gotten plastered in some bar on Reach, right before they both shipped out. Rest in peace, Murray.
She looked up to thank the JG, but the young woman had already turned back around. Yasmin decided to sit down at the bar, drinking alone in peace. As she swirled the whiskey around, taking in its aromas, her mind began to drift. The setting reminded her of one quiet August afternoon three years ago…
1546 Hours, August 12, 2554 (Military Calendar) \
New York, New York, United Republic of North America, Earth
Commander Yasmin Rajavi took a sip from her glass. The scotch on Draco III was better. She set the glass back down on the bar, thinking back to her time on the colony. She and her new troop, Alpha-Six, had just been reassigned to Earth when word arrived of the uprising. The NAVSPECWAR troop had been one of the first to be deployed, operating from the UNSC Andraste.
Upon reaching the planet, Alpha-Six dropped in Human Entry Vehicles to secure a high-value asset for the UNSC. Her troop, forty operators strong, was deployed to the northern pole of the planet. While ODSTs and Marines secured the city of New Albany, Alpha-Six fought their way to a vital superluminal communications relay.
Upon securing the lightly guarded station, the troop was ordered to wait for reinforcements. After two days, the Insurrectionists began to attack en masse. Alpha-Six lost seventeen good men and women that day: Yasmin still had condolence letters to write to their families.
Yasmin took another sip, grimacing at the bad scotch. Is it just the brand or is all Earth scotch this bad? She shook her head and looked up to talk to the bartender. She found the burly man with his mouth agape, staring at the door behind her. The commander turned around to see what exactly made such a "tough guy" so intimidated.
A man in a black suit stood in the doorway, his massive frame blocking most of it. His head was completely shorn of hair, his dome shining in the sunlight. He strode into the bar, his footfalls sounding more like those of a Cyclops exoskeleton than a person's. A Spartan. A fucking Spartan.
The human tank, while out of armor, reminded Yasmin of Draco III once more. On the third day, after losing Senior Chief Petty Officer O'Hara, the NAVSPECWAR troop was out of options. But just as the Insurrectionists moved to attack, four drop pods slammed into the earth behind them. The commander was stunned that theater command would send that few soldiers, until she saw just who they sent.
Spartans. Like mythical angels of death, they descended on the battlefield to dole out divine punishment. Yasmin was amazed as the four-person team demolished an entire company in the span of five minutes. The way their armor shimmered as they took fire, the skill and precision with which they attacked, the absolute grace and fluidity of their movements: it was intoxicating to watch.
The Spartan walked up next to her, looking the bartender straight in the eye. "I'll have whatever she is having." His gaze seemed to pierce the air, his blue eyes boring right into the unfortunate man behind the bar. The bartender simply nodded and rushed off to make the supersoldier a drink.
The Spartan sat down next to her, the bar stool groaning to support his weight. As he sat to her right, she noticed a tattoo on the left side of his face: a fist grasping three arrows. That's an odd thing to tattoo on your face. The commander realized she was staring when the Spartan looked over at him, his lips moving upwards in a smile.
"Appreciating the artwork?" Yasmin's cheeks flared red with embarrassment. The man chuckled and stuck out his right hand. "The name's Jun." Still flustered, the young naval commander shook the Spartan's hand firmly. Damn. What are his bones made of, titanium?
"Commander Yasmin Rajavi." That elicited another chuckle from the Spartan. Confused and somewhat angry, the commando pulled her hand back and took another sip of scotch. By that time, the bartender set down an identical glass in front of Jun. Without another word, he took a gulp of the whiskey, whistling as it went down his throat.
"Not nearly as good as the booze on Reach." His voice sounds familiar. She couldn't place it, but Yasmin knew she had heard his voice somewhere before. "Did you serve on Reach?"
Jun looked over at her. "Yes, I did. Saw New Alexandria turned into a wasteland before my very eyes. Watched from a prowler in orbit as Reach became nothing more than a memory." He took another gulp, this one bigger than the last. "Heard the last moments of my teammates' lives as they bled out in Aszod."
Yasmin now knew where she had heard the voice: the Spartans who had fought in New Alexandria, he was one of them. "You were part of Noble Team?" Jun smirked once again. "Very clever. I saw in your file that you served in New Alexandria attached to the 11th Shock Troops. Did you ever meet a Gunnery Sergeant by the name of Edward Buck?"
Yasmin shook her head, confused once more by his question. Jun frowned. "Huh, interesting. I just had a very similar talk with him not too long ago." Another gulp of scotch. Jun turned to her and looked her over. "You and he are very alike. Both soldiers of the highest caliber, both of you served for years against the Covenant. Now, we're asking you to serve again."
Yasmin was puzzled. What is he talking about? "I'm sorry, but I still have three weeks of leave left. If ONI thinks that they can pull my team into some joint op with Spartans, they…" Jun chuckled again. "And what's with that chuckle? What is going on?"
"Let's just say that important people have seen what you can do and are interested in using that potential. I'm assuming you have heard of the SPARTAN-IV program?" A simple nod from Yasmin answered the question. "After the war ended, HIGHCOM decided that creating new Spartans was in humanity's best interest. Our success against the Covenant was partly due to men and women like the Master Chief, after all. So, we began to screen some of the most experienced soldiers across the UNSC for compatibility with our genetic protocols. Those that were found to be compatible were withdrawn from their units and turned into some of the greatest soldiers in human history."
Jun placed a holopad on the counter, pressing a few buttons at the base. A holographic representation of a Spartan leapt from the pad to hover in the air. Clad in a suit of form-fitting MJOLNIR armor, the supersoldier elicited a look of admiration from Yasmin. Even with all her training, all her skills, she would never be as lethal as a Spartan. Their augmentations, coupled with their highly advanced armor suite, made them the most efficient killers in the UNSC.
"The first class of one-hundred forty-five were selected immediately following the war, augmented and immediately deployed against the Insurrection. Now, HIGHCOM just approved the next phase of the program: an additional three hundred Spartan-IVs." Yasmin's jaw dropped: over four hundred Spartans? If they'd had that many during the war, the Covenant would've never glassed Reach or taken Earth.
Jun powered down the holopad and stored it in his breastpocket once more. "So, Commander Rajavi, are you willing to leave the comfort of the Navy for a chance at greatness? A chance to become one of the greatest champions of humanity?"
"Are you ready to be a Spartan?"
Yasmin's eyes widened, despite herself. A Spartan, me? She found herself nodding vehemently before she could even process what had happened. Jun smiled and handed her a data chip. "You are ordered to report to the Quito Space Tether at 0700 two days from now. Pack light: and don't bother bringing clothes. You won't fit in them after the augmentations."
Jun turned to leave, Yasmin staring at the Spartan in astonishment. As he reached the doorway, he slipped on his black sunglasses and turned around to speak once more. "And Yasmin? Congratulations." Yasmin tried to stammer out a thank-you, but all that came out was gibbersh. Jun chuckled and stepped out into the sunlight.
Yasmin looked down at the data chip in her hands. What just happened?
1307 Hours, February 21, 2557 (Military Calendar) \
Office of Naval Intelligence Research Station 054323-45 "Prometheus", Location Classified
Yasmin took a big swig of whiskey, whistling softly at the taste. This is damn good. Better than that swill on Earth, that's for sure. The Spartan absentmindedly swirled the glass around, the servo motors in her mechanical wrist whirring at the motion. It was just another painful reminder of everything that had happened since that fateful day three years before.
She unconsciously clenched her mechanical fist. Uniquely designed for Spartan operators, the cybernetic limb was permanently grafted to the nervous system and surrounding muscles. It was as strong, as fast, and could react as quickly as the Spartan's own augmented limbs.
However, there was a downside to this. Following their augmentations, the Spartan-IVs had undergone extensive training to control their impressive abilities. It took months, with each Spartan adjusting to the augmentations in a unique way. Protocol dictated that after receiving a prosthetic limb, Spartans would undergo the same training to "relearn" all the muscle memory they had lost. Yasmin had only been in training for six weeks before Fireteam Onyx had boarded the Ajax. The control she had over her cybernetics, while improving, still had a ways to go.
The glass shattered in her hand, spilling whiskey all over the bar. "Shit!" Yasmin muttered under her breath as she swept the glass fragments into her hand. Every eye in the O-Club was on her. The crazy Spartan with a robot arm. Sounds like a psychologist's favorite patient. The JG behind the counter helped her clean up the mess, hands trembling the whole time.
Yasmin shook her head and deposited the glass into a trash can. Striding over to the door, she turned to see the officers and civilians return to their cards, trying not to stare. Rolling her eyes, Yasmin opened the door and walked out into the hallway. She stood there for a few seconds, wondering what to do next.
Maybe I can get a good workout in. I need to get used to this damn arm. The Spartan stalked off, oblivious to the eyes watching her.
"She lost the arm at Malurok?" Black-Box "nodded" in affirmation. Commander Atwood leaned back in his chair and contemplated the Spartan's complete file. She truly was remarkable: highest scores in stealth among the entire Spartan branch. HIGHCOM had selected her as the sole tester of a prototype active camouflage module, which she used in unorthodox situations with the utmost efficiency.
Even with the loss of her arm, something that would warrant at least a year of physical training, Yasmin was back in the field. Sure, she was rusty and needed practice, but the young Spartan was still an efficient killing machine by all senses of the word.
Satisfied with the first Spartan, Atwood closed the file on Onyx Five. One down, four to go. "Might as well go in order." Black-Box scoffed, claiming to have found the "perfect way to digest such dull and drab information."
Atwood ignored the pompous AI and opened the file simply marked "Four." Once more into the breach.
Author's Note:
So another chapter is down. I hope you enjoyed your introduction to Onyx Five, otherwise known as "The Woman in Black." Don't worry, this fic isn't going to be all narration, but we need to set up the characters for the big action sequences later.
You probably have a lot of questions, mostly relating to Malurok. I promise, that will be addressed eventually. I've planned most of the fic out, including a 24-page (I'm not kidding) summary of the Battle of Malurok.
The next chapter, which I will hopefully have out soon, is entitled "An Explosive Personality." So keep an eye out for that! Until then, see ya!