Chapter 5
"You wanna run that one by me again, boss?" Tanaka asked.
She was not the only member of the newly formed Fireteam Osiris that wanted Locke to explain himself. As Locke stood at the front of the briefing room and looked at his squadmates, all sitting in a row in front of him, he wondered if squad leaders always felt this outnumbered.
"Our mission," he reiterated, "is to pursue, subdue, and return the Spartan II fireteam designated 'Blue Team' to UNSC custody. Blue Team has gone AWOL and needs to be brought back into the fold."
"Excuse me," Buck objected, "but how exactly did Blue Team 'go AWOL'? What, did they check into some colony's red light district and not come out in the mornin'? I mean, these are the Spartan IIs we're talkin' about here, the friggin' Master Chief! Are you tellin' me-"
"I am telling you, Spartan Buck, that our mission is rather complicated. If you would let me continue, I will explain how." Locke interrupted. "Is that acceptable to you, Spartan Buck?"
Buck crossed his arms, but remained silent.
Locke took a moment to compose himself. This was the most critical point. He needed to convince the other members of his squad that Blue Team had gone rogue and needed to be brought in. In fact, Locke himself knewthat Blue Team had indeed gone rogue and did indeed need to be brought in. Halsey couldn't handle the Guardians and would only make things worse. ONI Command needed her out of the way if it was going to effectively deal with this threat. Still, the exact details of who was who and what was what couldn't be discussed with these soldiers. He resumed his speech in a loud, authoritative tone.
"Several days ago Blue Team rescued this woman," Locke pressed a button on his datapad, causing the wall behind him to change to an image of a woman with graying hair, "Dr. Catherine Elizabeth Halsey, from Covenant custody. Since then they have not returned to base, nor have they responded to attempts to communicate with them. We believe that Halsey has convinced Blue Team that she was on a deep cover mission and that they now need to help her accomplish her objectives."
"Why would they believe that?" Vale asked, confused.
"Because they have a history with her. Dr. Halsey was a member of ONI and the scientist foremost responsible for the Spartan II program. She developed the augmentations, perfected the faulty MJOLNIR armor system into the MJOLNIR Mark IV that the Spartans wore for the majority of the Human-Covenant War, and has provided them with priceless intelligence at numerous points over the years." Here Locke pressed his datapad, causing a series of photos, taken at various points during the War, to be displayed on the wall behind him. They showed Dr. Halsey interacting with the Spartan IIs.
"Blue Team trusts Halsey. Trusts her enough to believe that any attempt to interfere with them would jeopardize whatever mission Halsey has convinced them she is on. That trust, however, is misplaced. Have you all been briefed on the alien civilization known as the 'Forerunners'?" Locke asked.
They all nodded. Buck spoke up, saying, "I was on the Ark. I saw what kind of tech the Forerunners were capable of producing."
"The Ark" had been a Forerunner space station discovered toward the end of the War. It was the manufacturing site and control center for the "Halo Array," a series of superweapons capable of killing all sapient life in the galaxy in one shot. The Prophet of Truth, the last San 'Shyuum to hang onto power toward the end of the Covenant civil war, made his last stand on the Ark. He attempted to activate it, believing the Halo Array was the means by which he would initiate the "Great Journey" prophesied in the Covenant religious texts; more importantly to him, it was also the way he believed he would ascend to godhood. Only a last minute alliance of humans and the Arbiter's Sangheili, as well as the personal intervention of the Master Chief himself, had stopped that madman and destroyed the Ark once and for all.
"Well this is another example of that tech," Locke said, using his datapad to display a still image from the footage of the Guardian attack on Hadley's Hope. "This, is a Guardian. Near as we can tell, the Forerunners buried dozens of these things on planets across the galaxy millenia ago. Their reasons for doing so remain, as of this moment, unknown. What is known, is that they have the potential to be the greatest threat humanity has faced since the Covenant."
Locke returned to the topic of the Spartan's "mother." "Halsey has always been an egotist. She believes that she and she alone knows what needs to be done to save humanity. It's possible she believes she can control these Guardians. That is a chance we cannot afford to take. We need to find Blue Team, subdue them, and stop Halsey from doing whatever it is she thinks she needs to do."
Tanaka looked unconvinced. Vale looked concerned, but determined to do her duty. Buck didn't look like he was buying it for a minute.
Here Locke grew serious. He pressed his datapad again, displaying the crater and devastated landscape of Conrad's Point immediately following the Guardian's activation. He had been on-site and had gotten some good shots of ground zero.
"I am not ordering you people to burn down an orphanage, here. Done right, at the end of this mission Halsey is stopped, Blue Team is returned to active duty, everyone who isn't a war criminal gets to go home happy, and we get to save the goddamn galaxy. I am not asking you to like me. I'm asking you to help me stop this" he pointed to the image of destruction, "from happening to colonies across the galaxy. Copy?"
Tanaka agreed, saying, "Oorah, boss."
Vale said, "Yes sir!"
Buck simply nodded. The former ODST still looked like he didn't trust Locke as far as he could throw the Infinity, but he at least looked like he would follow orders. Good enough.
"How are we supposed to subdue them?" Tanaka asked.
"With these." The photo of Conrad's point was replaced by a diagram of a small, half-circle shaped electronic device. "This," Locke explained, "is a neural inhibitor collar. It attaches to the data slot in the back of the MJOLNIR Mark VI helmet. From there it directly connects to the neural interface implanted at the base of the Spartan's skull and prevents any voluntary muscle signals from passing into the spinal cord. It won't stop their hearts beating or their lungs breathing, but it will keep them immobilized so we can have them transported home."
"And how are we supposed to get that close? Ask politely? And won't their energy shields block those collars?" Buck asked.
"That, Fireteam Osiris, is where we'll have to get clever," Locke responded. His squadmates grimaced.
"Hopefully we'll be able to spring on them when they're not suited up, but if not...well, we're Spartans. We don't get the easy assignments. I've already worked out several strategies that should enable us to attach the collars properly and I want each of you to come up with your own ideas."
"My sidearm should help down their shields. At least, as a last resort," Vale offered. She was referring to the weapon she carried in place of the standard issue M6H pistol, specifically the weapon commonly known as the "plasma pistol." It had been the primary sidearm of the Covenant during the War and it was thoroughly against regulation for Vale to carry it into the field. Of course, noone had bothered to point that out to her; being spec ops had its perks. The particular function she was referring to was the plasma pistol's ability to fire an overcharged shot if one held down the activation button for too long. Due to the nature of the field that kept the plasma in one focused projectile, the charged shot caused a jolt upon impact that would down nearly any personal energy shield in one strike. Unfortunately, it would also ruin the pistol after repeated uses and if someone tried to overcharge any weapon with more power than the plasma pistol, said weapon would simply explode. These facts relegated the overcharge "function" mostly to desperate last stands. Locke thanked Vale for the offer.
Locke concluded, "The UNSC's top researchers are currently studying all of the data and Forerunner relics we have to figure out where Halsey will activate the next one. Until then, we prepare."
Buck, however, was not done. "What about the Guardians? Someone's gotta deal with the ones Halsey supposedly woke up already, right?"
"Don't worry about the Guardians," Locke stated confidently, "the fleet will have something special in store for them."
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"You'll forgive me if I ask you to elaborate on that statement, Major," Captain Thomas Lasky said. He was really starting to dislike this woman, even beyond her association with ONI.
Major Caroline Ackerson smiled. Lasky felt a sudden need to shower. "We have a surprise for the next so-called 'Guardian'. The Office of Naval Intelligence has had its top researchers working with data and relics recovered from Requiem before its regrettable destruction and they have found a way to remotely access Forerunner computer systems. Allow our technicians to use the Infinity's electronic warfare suite when it encounters a Guardian and we'll have it disabled and ready for a kill shot before it even launches an attack."
Lasky arched an eyebrow. "You're expecting me to believe a Forerunner superweapon can be disabled remotely?"
His skepticism was, admittedly, based primarily upon his background in naval warfare. The idea that a simple computer program could be capable of disabling an enemy ship remotely had never been realistic or even possible. This was because no civilization capable of building a warship dangerous enough to threaten anyone would be stupid enough to make critical ship functions remotely accessible. Engines, weapon systems, life support, etc., had always been controlled by exclusively-internally accessible systems. Even the Infinity itself relied upon hardline communication for the vast majority of its functions. The UNSC had taken no chances when it came to the potential vulnerabilities of its new flagship.
Again, however, that was his experience with modern naval warfare talking. When it came to ancient alien doomsday weapons, he was completely out of his depth.
"Yes, Captain, that is exactly what I expect you to believe," Ackerson continued, still wearing that smug, greasy smile. "High Command is in agreement with us on this one. As soon as we locate the probable location of the next appearance by a Guardian, the Infinity will jump there and prepare to destroy it with the aid of ONI's EW program. Once the thing is blown to bits, we'll broadcast the footage to every corner of occupied space. It'll be glorious."
Ah, now I understand, Lasky thought. This was all about PR. He supposed it made sense. After all, national morale was essentially the reason why the UNSC Infinity was built in the first place.
The Infinity had originally been designed as a sort of space-born "Noah's Ark"-a final refuge for the only survivors of the human race should the Covenant succeed in overrunning all UEG territories. Once the War ended and the UEG was still..well...alive, many wanted to scrap the project altogether. After all, they argued, one could manufacture an entire fleet for the cost of the 5.7 kilometer-long super-dreadnaught.
The dissenters had been outvoted because of one main argument: humanity needed a symbol. Throughout the entire Human-Covenant War the UNSC had been thoroughly outclassed in naval warfare. The Covenant fleet was vastly more advanced in everything from weapons systems to slipspace drives. The UNSC only really won when they outnumbered the Covenant 3-to-1, and even then the losses were heavy. No matter how many battles the marines and the Spartans won on the ground, the enemy could always pull back into space and glass the assaulted planet from a distance. In fact, they now knew that the only reason the Covenant ever landed at all was to recover Forerunner relics buried beneath the surface. Apparently the Forerunners had buried something sacred-looking on every rock in existence, because they seemed to pop up everywhere humanity went these days. Or maybe it was Fate or something, what did he know.
The point was, humanity needed something to prove that the days of it being outclassed in naval warfare was over. The people needed something visible, something real, to point to and feel like they would no longer have to live in fear. The Spartan IIs had filled that role during the War. ONI propaganda had played them up like the second-coming of Christ, messianic figures that were turning the tide against the Covenant juggernaut. The UNSC Infinity would fill that role now that the War was over. It would be the shining light, the shout telling all the alien races of the galaxy that humanity was now a major player.
Given how perilously close to collapse humanity's fighting spirit had been even after the War ended, Lasky couldn't help but agree that desperate measures were called for. After 30 years losing a war of extermination the human race as a whole had been thoroughly traumatized, and that trauma didn't just go away. If nothing else, the millions upon millions of refugees crowding planets from Mars to the Outer Colonies served as constant reminders of how close every human being alive had come to a violent death. Humanity's spirit was in danger of breaking, and if it did it wouldn't matter how many ships or supersoldiers the UNSC had at its disposal.
Thus it made sense that ONI Section II, the propaganda division of the UNSC's intelligence branch, wanted to set up the ultimate exhibition match. Have Infinity beat up a weapon built by the very race that the Covenant worshiped as gods. National morale would spike through the roof.
Still, he had never trusted ONI, and something about this woman's attitude struck him as overconfident.
Ackerson obviously picked up on his skepticism. "Unfortunately, I'm afraid you don't have a choice in the matter. The Joint Chiefs are in agreement. The new EW technology will be used on a Guardian, launched from the UNSC Infinity. We expect your full cooperation, Captain Lasky."
Thomas Lasky sighed. "I hope for all our sakes that you're right, Major."
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"Ain't that a beautiful sight?" Buck asked the other members of Fireteam Osiris.
He was referring to a holographic image of the UNSC Infinity that was projected over the data console in the equipment room. The image was displayed whenever any ship-board system was idle, making it the official UNSC screensaver. Fireteam Osiris had just finished a lengthy series of drills designed to get them accustomed to working with each other in a battlefield situation. Basically, they were practicing for when they would have to fight Blue Team. Every time Locke thought about it directly it didn't seem real. How the hell had he ever wound up in this situation?
"I mean, that has got to be the prettiest damn ship in space!" Buck continued. "Every time I see it I have to check and make sure I haven't made a dent in my codpiece."
Vale chocked on her water bottle. "GAHK-, really, Buck?" she said an offended tone, although she was slightly undermined by the smile on her face.
"What?" Buck asked in a mock-defensive tone. "I'm just tellin' the truth! I mean, look at that thing! 6 kilometers long, equipped with the strongest energy shield ever built by mortal hands, and lugging around the biggest MAC gun in history! Damn thing is a death machine!"
The UNSC Infinity was equipped with a Super Magnetic Accelerator Canon, or Super MAC, a weapon that propelled 3,000 ton slugs of ferric tungsten at 4% the speed of light, or 12,000 kilometers per second. Given the tens of thousands of kilometers involved in space combat, as well as the high velocity of starships in a vacuum, any MAC gun or Super MAC gun would still require advanced computer programs or a ship-board AI to properly aim. The Super MAC made up for this limitation by being able to destroy nearly any ship save a Covenant Super Carrier in one shot. The only real downside was that it took an ungodly amount of time to recharge the magnetic coils responsible for propelling the metallic slug, necessitating the installation of 2 smaller MAC guns for backup. The Super MAC was a weapon that had previously only been seen on Orbital Defense Platforms powered by their own planetside reactor complexes. It was a sign of how far human war technology had come that it could now be mounted on a ship and not have it overload the reactor every time it fired.
"Even ignoring that, the thing has hangars so big it actually carries frigates inside it." Buck continued to enthuse. "FRIGATES! Each of which has its own wing of Broadsword fighter/bombers. It's a carrier so big it launches other, smaller carriers! I feel sorry for any SOB dumb enough to get in the way of that monster."
Locke had to admit, he shared Buck's confidence. The Infinity was a testament to human ingenuity and military potential. Every time he saw it in person he felt a swell of pride.
Too bad he couldn't just threaten the Spartan IIs with it. Maybe then they wouldn't even have to fight.
Ah, to dream, Locke smiled to himself.
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Well, this is new, the Master Chief thought as he climbed out of the tanning bed.
Dr. Halsey, with the assistance of Fred, had built said device out of UV lamps intended to supply pilots with Vitamin-D on extended voyages. Halsey had insisted on its necessity, saying that the unnaturally pale skin tone shared by all 4 Spartans would make it impossible to blend in when they reached Meridian. And they needed to blend in.
Without access to official technology the group of renegade Spartans would be unable to simply scan the planet from orbit, as had been the Chief's original suggestion. Halsey was able to locate its approximate location, conveniently within 50km of Meridian's main settlement, "Meridian Station," but to narrow it down they would have to scan up close. Lacking official credentials, this meant going undercover.
The Master Chief and the rest of Blue Team had gone undercover before. Towards the beginning of their career their primary adversaries had been members of the Insurrection, a loosely affiliated group of rebels spread throughout the Outer Colonies. However, the missions that required the type of open infiltration that necessitated blending in had all been rather brief. They had only needed to blend in for hours, a day at most. And it had been a long time since they had even needed to do that, with their primary foe becoming the alien Covenant.
"There, like you spent a week at the beach," Dr. Halsey said approvingly. She was joking, of course. Each Spartan had deliberately worn an undershirt and pants in order to acquire the "farmer's tan" common to working class people across the galaxy.
John just grunted in response. He was looking at himself in the mirror. It felt odd, to look like what most would deem "normal." He was so used to being in his armor nearly all the time that the idea of going without it for an extended period was almost nerve wracking. He supposed he would have to take comfort in the fact that they would be smuggling their gear to the surface in crates labeled as mining equipment.
"Time to receive our new identities, everyone. Dibs on 'Preston Cole'," Fred joked from the door to the cargo compartment that had been re-purposed into a makeshift tanning salon. He, like John, Kelly, and Linda, had a fresh tan.
Dr. Halsey chuckled obligingly before following him into the main compartment. John took another moment to examine himself in the mirror, frowning but unable to come to any conclusions. He shook his head and moved to join everyone else.
They sat in the "multipurpose area." It was the room immediately behind the cockpit that served nearly every function the human crew would require. Towards the left side of the cockpit door were cabinets containing MREs and various food provisions. To the right was the cooker that would warm those provisions up. Further to the rear were several computer consoles built into the walls for the crew to monitor the various video feeds that the ship and its deployed satellites provided. Immediately behind that were the doors to the cargo compartments, placed on either side of the chamber. The cargo compartments were also where satellites and other devices would be launched from. Behind those was an open area intended for exercises and general movement. Built into the walls of this area were foldout bunks, two embedded in each wall. Finally, at the end of the room was a door that led to the lavatory/shower area, which also contained the water- and waste-reclamation unit. Other than the 2 cargo compartments and the cockpit, this composed the entirety of the inside of the ship. The active-stealth technology was certainly demanding when it came to limiting space.
"I still say we should have tried to contact Lord Hood," Kelly was saying to Dr. Halsey.
Halsey sighed, having had this discussion before. "Yes, well, shockingly I don't have a direct line to the Fleet Admiral at the moment, Kelly," she explained. "I tried to contact him before you rescued me, but given what Linda has helped us pick up on UNSC activity we can safely assume that my transmission was intercepted by ONI. We are, regretfully, on our own."
John sat down on the deployed port-side bottom bunk with Kelly. Fred and Dr. Halsey sat on its starboard-side counterpart. Linda stood up from one of the consoles and walked toward the front of the compartment, preparing to brief them on the coming mission to Meridian. After the revelation of her clandestine activities she had become their unofficial intelligence officer.
"With the assistance of Blue Lead I have produced what I believe is the best plan moving forward," she began. "I've gathered as much intel as I can from the 'net and Meridian's planet-side computer networks. Meridian's 2 sole industries are: the mining and sale of harvested silicates created by the glassing, and the terraforming process intended to render the planet livable. The Liang-Dortmund Company is responsible for both. It is also responsible for all utilities, trade, law enforcement, planetary defense, and infrastructure. In short, they run the planet. I have fabricated work records for all of us that list us as Liang-Dortmund employees, thereby ensuring access at least. Given how understaffed the colony is in general there should be few who want to question our arrival. Of course, I will still be implanting programs to track and intercept any inquiries that might blow our cover. The residents are mostly from other Outer Colonies, so don't expect a lot of support for the UEG or the UNSC."
The Master Chief wondered what type of experience his squad and he were going to have on the surface. For decades they had been hailed as the saviors of humanity. Being considered a potential enemy, and possibly experiencing abuse because of it, would be new to all of them. Still, they were Spartans, and they could adapt to anything.
"The colony is run by an individual calling himself 'Governor Sloan.' At first I couldn't find any detailed records of him. He seemed to simply spring into existence several years ago. After a bit of digging, I discovered why."
Linda activated one of the wall consoles, which promptly displayed a holographic figure of a man wearing what resembled 20th Century miner's clothes, including yellow overalls and a hard-hat with a flashlight on it. "Governor Sloan is an artificial intelligence. A smart AI, if records are to be believed." Linda hesitated, looking uncertainly at the Master Chief. "Also, if records are to be believed...he was put into service 8 years ago."
8 years...
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"AIs deteriorate after seven, Chief."
The Master Chief paused, but only for a moment.
"Halsey," he said.
"Chief-"
"We need to find Halsey," John said insistently. Cortana had been created by Dr. Halsey, the most brilliant scientific mind the human race had to offer. If anyone knew the solution, it would be her.
"Chief—please-"
"She made you. She can fix you," John said. There was no hint of doubt in his voice.
"I won't recover from rampancy, Chief."
"If we can just get back to Earth and find Halsey, she can fix this," John insisted. Dr. Halsey would fix Cortana. Of course she would. She was as much a mother to the AI as she was to the Spartans. She would have the answer.
He wasn't about to let his friend die. He would get her home. He would get them both home. He would save them both, like he always did.
"Don't...make a girl a promise you can't keep."
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The Master Chief was suddenly back in the micro-prowler, his excursion into memory over. He found his squadmates and Dr. Halsey looking at him with concern. He carefully avoided showing any sign that he had been in distress, instead pretending he had been deep in thought.
"Why hasn't he been taken offline yet?" he asked.
"I'm...not sure," Linda said. Although her face betrayed nothing, John could tell she was still worried about him. "All records from the past several years were careful to avoid bringing up his age, or even hinting at his being an AI at all. I suspect he is attempting to avoid deletion, although why Liang-Dortmund would go along with it is something I have been unable to determine."
"Most likely a cost-saving measure," Dr. Halsey interjected. She looked as concerned as Linda at first, but apparently decided that everyone needed to move on. John was grateful. "They'll probably keep Sloan in charge until his rampancy directly interferes with profits. It's foolish, but companies like this often prioritize short-term profits over long-term stability."
"Yes, well, whatever the reason, he's still in charge of Meridian," Linda said. "He's essentially the absolute ruler of the place, as far as regulations are concerned. Apparently the UEG has little influence over this colony...perhaps they are also turning a blind eye for the sake of profits?" she said, looking to Halsey. The good doctor smiled in approval.
"Regardless," Linda continued, "I have falsified transfer papers that indicate I am a Liang-Dortmund employee. My cover identity will be 'Natasha Romanov,' a survivor of the glassed colony world Corinthius, and an expert in administrative and network engineering. From what I've gathered from their records, these are the positions that most desperately need filling. While there, I will access the company server to search for any records that could lead us to the location of the Forerunner ruins or the Guardian itself. "
That made sense to the Master Chief. Having someone planted in the colony's headquarters would be invaluable provided the cover didn't get blown. Although, he had to wonder how Linda would function in a corporate working environment. She was always stoic and reserved, even for a Spartan, which for a normal person would categorize her as outright antisocial. Linda seemed to pick up on his unease.
"Allow me to demonstrate," she said, turning around to look towards the cockpit. The Chief noticed her roll her shoulders, stretch slightly, and finally return to standing still at a significantly different posture. She turned back around, and John was confronted by a stranger wearing his sister's face.
"Hello," she said in a rather happy voice. "My name's Natasha Romanov, but please, call me 'Nat'. It's a pleasure to work here at Liang-Dortmund and I intend to make this company proud. I look forward to getting to know all of you over the course of my stay here. I'm sure we'll get along famously." She spoke with a slight smile. A civilian would probably see her as a cheerful but rather subdued worker trying to make a good impression. For those who had known her for years, it was an unprecedented display of emotion and general enthusiasm. Even her accent was different; rather than the "Reach Accent" the Spartan IIs had picked up from their training on that planet, her voice now resembled something a person from an Outer Colony would develop.
"Where in the world did you learn how to do that?" Dr. Halsey asked, seeming annoyed that she kept being caught off guard by one of her Spartans.
"Remember how I said I refined my hacking and social engineering skills?" she asked. Halsey paused, then nodded in understanding. "Social Engineering" referred to the method of breaching electronic security via social interaction. One might, for example, come upon a secure server that one cannot remotely access. Rather than running a program to bypass the server's security, one could simply call up the company that ran it, pretend to be someone who should have access but has lost or forgotten the password, and convince the employee manning the comms to reveal the password themselves. This was but one example. It was an obvious trick, and the sort of thing that security experts had been warning against for centuries, but the average person was still surprisingly vulnerable to rather simple masquerades. Apparently said masquerades had required Linda to develop a bit of acting talent.
Linda continued her briefing, looking at the Master Chief.
"Sir, you will be working as a 'prospector.' Your official job will be to travel into the unsettled glasslands and search for deposits of particularly valuable silicates. For some reason, people last longer than vehicles in the glasslands, so you'll be traveling on foot. You will use one of the portable scanners Dr. Halsey has constructed to search for readings of the Forerunner ruins," Linda said, referring to a set of 3 clunky, jury-rigged devices that Halsey had produced while en route to Meridian. "Your cover identity will be 'Steven Rogers,' a refugee from Reach."
"Reach?" the Master Chief asked.
Linda hesitated. "Yes, sir. Since none of you have any experience with disguising your voices, I felt it was better to cast you as Inner Colonists. Reach just...felt right, I suppose," she said uncomfortably.
John thought for a moment. Finally, he simply said, "It's fitting." Kelly and Fred both agreed. The fall of Reach, and its subsequent glassing at the hands of the Covenant, had affected them all more than they would like to admit. They had trained on that planet from age 6 to age 14. It was the closest thing to a homeworld any of them could really remember. Halsey nodded as well, but with a smile tinged with sadness and...guilt? John couldn't really read her expression and did not have time to dwell on it now. He would have to ask her about it later.
Linda nodded, relieved that he, and the rest of the Spartans, approved. "I have constructed a detailed backstory for your cover identity. Please study it and delete it before we arrive," she said before handing the Master Chief a data cube.
Next up was Fred. "Blue One, you will be a security officer named 'Clint Barton.' Security officers are responsible for, among other things, investigating any signs of human ruins from before the glassing. If anything recognizable is found it is collected and shipped offworld for the "Remembrance Fund," an organization founded by survivors of glassed planets that is responsible for numerous memorials and museums across the UEG. They're subsidized by the UEG senate, so they're able to pay well. You will use your position to access security records and search for anything that might indicate the presence of Forerunner ruins. You will also attempt to use your position to go into the field and use Dr. Halsey's scanner to gather readings directly. Here is your file," she said, handing him a different data cube.
"Got it," Fred said.
Linda moved on to Kelly. "Kelly, you and Dr. Halsey will be going under cover together. Your identities will be 'Carol Danvers' and 'Dr. Janet Pym,' respectively. You are medical technicians who have come to tend to the needs of the people on Meridian. Your primary service will be treating injuries directly related to the high amount of silicate particles found in the air, particularly the condition colloquially called 'rust lung.' Your mission will be to search for any indications of people spotting what could be signs of Forerunner ruins in the medical records and to listen to the stories of your patients. An injured person is more likely to let something slip than a well person. As it would be unwise to leave Dr. Halsey alone," the good doctor 'hmph'-ed at this, "I have assigned Kelly as an escort."
"So basically we're scattering and hoping to get lucky?" Fred asked.
The Master Chief stepped in. "We won't be able to maintain stealth while entering the atmosphere and Meridian is outfitted with air defenses. Also, the scanners will be better able to detect anything the closer they are to the ground. Given the fact that the ruins may well be buried deep beneath the surface, this is the best shot we have," he explained.
"I still don't like splitting up," Fred objected.
"You won't be," Linda said, "I've arranged for you all to be housed in the same complex and I will contact you at a predetermined time daily. We will also all be assigned datapads, so we will be able to call each other practically anywhere inside the settlement."
"All right," the Master Chief said, "let's all study our individual profiles and then meet up to work out any issues. We've only got 23 hours before our window to hit Meridian, people. Move out."
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The Meridian Station Space Elevator was the centerpiece of Meridian colony. It was a kilometers-long bundle of carbon nano-tubes stretching from the surface of the desolate world into space, where multiple freighter starships waited to ship its precious resources across human controlled space. It ferried thousands of tons of silicates from the surface to waiting freighters in orbit every day. Sometimes, although far less frequently, it would carry additional equipment and personnnel to the planet on one of its journeys back to the surface. Today was one such day, although no official party had planned it to be.
Blue Team and Dr. Halsey stepped out of an airlock. They were in the portion of the elevator's structure that remained in space even after the elevator's carriage had returned to the surface. It was primarily used for storage, on-loading, and off-loading and as such was fully automated. It was only ever inhabited during regularly scheduled inspections or repair cycles. The Spartans, after securing the area and having Linda access the computer systems to erase any record of their clandestine entry, swiftly removed their MJOLNIR armor suits and placed them in cargo crates found within the station. They attached several biometric locks—equipment that they had taken from Argent Moon—to the crates to ensure noone accessed them. Linda had already fabricated work orders instructing that they be shipped to wherever the new arrivals were stationed. Their weapons also went into crates. None of them were happy about it.
"Feel like I'm going in naked," Fred said, donning the spare overalls they had found stored in storage lockers. The others were now similarly dressed.
"Remember what CPO Mendez said about being unarmed?" the Master Chief asked.
"A Spartan is never unarmed. Their body is the most lethal weapon they have," Blue One, Blue Two, and Blue Three responded as one.
"We'll make it work," the Chief concluded simply.
They moved into the carriage portion of the elevator. It was a large, circular compartment, about 100 meters in diameter and 75 meters high, with the elevator's stalk going straight through the center. Fortunately, the zero gravity made maneuvering their equipment relatively easy. Otherwise, they would have had to spend valuable time locating and using power loaders, potentially delaying the elevator carriage's descent and drawing unneeded attention.
The Master Chief took a moment to activate his datapad. Within moments he established contact with the surveillance satellite they had launched from the micro-prowler before setting it on autopilot to station itself behind Meridian's moon. The ship would remain there until they recalled it at the end of their mission. In the meantime, the satellite would grant them increased awareness of the region they would be inhabiting. He deactivated his datapad once he had confirmed the connection and stepped into the orbital elevator's carriage.
With everyone on board, Linda released her control over the elevator, and the carriage descended.
"The company employees on the ground should be expecting us," the Master Chief said. "We'll need to separate shortly after arrival. Remember: check in is 1100 tomorrow night." The rest of the Spartans and Dr. Halsey acknowledged his instruction.
The members of Blue Team then used their datapads to access the carriage's external cameras. It had no windows, being completely covered in heat- and radiation-shielded metal.
The world of Meridian greeted them. Its primary color was black, granted by the endless fields of dirty glass left behind by the Covenant plasma bombardment. Many parts were effectively invisible to them, the glare from reflected sunlight making it impossible to discern the ground beneath it. Fortunately the ground was uneven enough, and the glassing process inconsistent enough, that such parts were comparatively rare.
Stretches of the surface the size of small continents were covered in enormous, pitch-black clouds. Glass-storms, they were called, named after the fact that any substantial wind propelled millions-upon-millions of tiny particles of razor-sharp glass—silicates—into the air. Anyone caught outside in one of those storms would be shredded in seconds. Not that the danger of airborne silicates ended there. Anywhere outside the partially terraformed Main Settlement required one to wear a rebreather outdoors to prevent the silicates in the air from shredding their lungs. Every building had a large air filtration unit attached to the outside of the hermetically sealed refuge. Even those who lived in the main settlement would eventually develop lung-related illnessses due to the fine particles that the terraforming devices could not quite keep away. The price for living on Meridian was high, regardless of potential profits.
The oceans, rather than blue, were a sickly gray, and looked incapable of supporting any life amenable to human consumption, or even coexistence. What rivers or lakes could be seen were not what one would call fresh water. They looked like the result of puddles on broken asphalt that had been filled with ash from a house fire. Nothing beyond the most rudimentary forms of life could possibly be found in Meridian's aquatic environments.
The only exceptions to the bleak, desolate landscape were the settled areas directly below the elevator, although the best they could offer by way of color was the brown almost-arable dirt and the colors of the buildings and streets below. If one wanted to find natural greenery they would have to look at the houseplants found in offices and domiciles. All foodstuffs were shipped in from off-world as Meridian was incapable of growing any live produce. Only ruin, seeded by fire rained from the sky, could be harvested there.
"People actually live here?" Kelly asked. "Why?"
"A number of reasons," Dr. Halsey somberly responded. "Desperation for employment, the promise of wealth in the booming silicates industry, perhaps even some survivors have returned to help make their old home livable again." Halsey frowned. "Still, I share your...hesitance. Let's try to be done swiftly, yes?"
The elevator began slowing about a kilometer from the ground. Given the hundreds of kilometers per hour it had accelerated to in order to make the journey from orbit to ground swiftly, it needed to begin slowing that early to avoid squashing everything inside to paste on the floor.
When the elevator finally settled the main cargo doors opened and Blue Team got its first groundside view of Meridian: a line of men and women in private security armor pointing assault rifles at them.
Next up Blue Team spends time in an environment they have almost no experience in: a human colony that isn't on fire or under direct alien attack! Yet.
Note: Enough people have asked about this so I suppose I should make an official note. Yes, Blue Team using outdated tech does strain belief. They should be taking advantage of every technological leap in both weapons and armor...from a logical standpoint. From a storytelling standpoint I felt I needed to give Fireteam Osiris a fighting chance and giving them better gear is one of the only ways I could do it. They don't have Blue Team's augmentations or the decades of experience the Spartan IIs can rely on. There's not a lot of tension when the hunter is no threat to the prey, right? I won't be relying on the idea too heavily, so please, just work with me here.
Note: I'm trying to portray ONI as arrogant to the point of delusion. I think such a mindset is perfectly likely for an organization as twisted as ONI, even if they have access to information that should disprove their ideas. To paraphrase a line from American Beauty: Never underestimate the power of denial.
Thank for reading.
Slipspace Anomaly