Right, so... i've been gone for a minute from this sight. Long time no see!
So first off, I'd like to apologize for my absence on here. First, I'd gone through a bit of an emotional turmoil, not outright depression or suicidal thoughts mind you, but I just had no desire to write or do any kind of work on the stories for a while. (Mild depression, perhaps? Not sure what exactly to call it.) Then, thankfully, I got out of this mindset and started working on the stories some more, but then the idea of a Manga adaptation for this story started getting brought up. Initially, it was just going to be a cover of the Sea Confederacy Invasion Arc, just for a proof of concept, but ultimately turned into an outright adaptation of the entire story itself. (I figured, if I'm going to do this, I might as well start from the beginning.)
This manga adaptation... wasn't supposed to be such a serious project, but I must admit, it's been a blast making this manga adaptation and I sort of got a little too focused on making that. Which, of course, caused me to neglect what even gave me most of my fanbase to begin with. And for that, I want to apologize to you, the fanfic readers, so being gone for so long without any content.
But now, I'm taking a break from the manga (burnt out on doing story plot, storyboards, and learning how to draw, not to mention my bank account has really hated this manga adaptation. Making a manga is hard work. Who'd figure? lol) and dedicating the next few months to try and get as many chapters out for both this, Raider-9, and Task Force Hestati as I can. I plan on resuming work on the manga in either late June or July, as I'm also currently in the middle of changing jobs (HVAC) and prepping for two weeks of military shenanigans in June so I'll be having a lot going on.
And for any of you who are interested, the manga adaptation for Halo-Naruto is uploaded onto DeviantArt, under my profile Azores-1994. Artist is tomi_sa, whose also on Deviantart. Feel free to go check it and him out if you're interested. I also have a discord server now, for anyone interested, that's also linked on my DeviantArt profile. Feel free to come visit there too!
So without anything else, here's the latest chapter, and I hope you enjoy it.
!WARNING!
This story contains content not suited for younger readers, such as Violence, Blood and Gore, Language, and Explicit Sexual Content. This Chapter's Rating will be placed at T-Rated. Future Chapters may, and most likely, will switch back and forth between the T and M ratings.
Regardless, Reader Discretion for this Chapter is advised.
I don't own Halo or Naruto.
Bold-My Own Words
Bold & Italic-Locations, Time & Calendar
Normal-Narrative
"Normal"-Person Speaking
'Normal'-Thoughts
"Italic"-Foreign Language
'Italic'-Radio Chatter
/Italic\-AI/Computer typing
-Progress is impossible without change, and those who cannot change their minds cannot change anything.
George Benard Shaw
-When there is teamwork and cooperation, wonderful things can be achieved.
Mattie Stepanek
Prologue Arc-Episode 14
-Expedition: Visok Pt. 2/Training/Digging up the Past-
(Part 14)
November 23, 2543
New Gaelic System
In orbit over New Falkirk
Visok Expeditionary Fleet
UNSC Everest
Hangar Bay 1
To say that Leonard Barnes did not like the opening prospects of their upcoming adventure was an understatement. There was a lot of bad blood between the Helljumpers and Insurrectionists, and that bad blood was being shown on full display during this trip. There were already three fights and an attempted stabbing between the Innie Crew and his ODST. And this was just during the transit between The Cove and Falkirk. Oh, did anyone mention they were about to spend nearly two months traveling through Slipspace just to make it back to UEG space and then 2 to 3 weeks getting to Ludogorie?
'God help us.' At this rate, the Covenant will be the last of their concerns. Christ, he could go for a drink right now.
At least the last bits of refueling and restocking of goods and munitions on New Falkirk went off without a hitch. However, that was probably more thanks to Major Hart and his Falkirkan Rangers standing by to make sure nobody pulled anything stupid. They may be using outdated CMA equipment, like VK78s and CMA Army BDUs. However, the Rangers still had way more firepower than any of the Insurrectionists could ever hope to bring and could certainly hold their own with any of the UNSC's elite special forces. (Save for the ODST and Super-Soldier kind.) And Hart was bringing an entire light Infantry Brigade, 3 Battalions, of Falkirk's best troopers with them on this expedition. A bit much for a man of Hart's rank to be commanding, but with such a reputation and influence within the Falkirkan Government, Hart was able to get away with much more than other officers of his rank or higher. (Not too dissimilar to Barnes' own situation, ironically.) It also told the Helljumper Officer that Hart was expecting trouble.
Barnes continued to stand by and watch as the loading crews finished up the last of their work in the hangar bay, stowing away munitions or provisions for the long trip ahead. In one part of the hangar bay, he could see elements of one of the ship's Marine Company working on the handful of warthogs that had been kept on board for the trip. (In the unlikely case of an emergency needing them.) If all went according to plan, those hogs wouldn't even leave their parking spots. Aside from the ship's pelicans and these ten warthogs, every other vehicle or unnecessary item was removed from the ship to make room for what was expected to be a lot of cargo.
"All clear on your end, Colonel?" He heard Hart ask, walking up behind him as the ODST continued to chew on the stub that was once a Sweet Williams Cigar.
"So far. You?" Came the curt reply. Hart merely nodded in return before lighting his own cigar. He heard the Major sigh as he exhaled the smoke, "Damn shame there won't be too many of these left out here soon. There are only four colonies out in the Cluster that I know grow tobacco."
"Aw, hell. You're fucking kidding?" Barnes grumbled, pausing to adjust the cigar in his mouth, "Any of them happen to be growing Sweet Willams?"
"None of the colonies have the flower needed for the cigars, as far as I know. So we're buggered on that end." Hart answered, which only earned another curse from the Colonel. "Guess we'll have to get conservative with our smoking habits for the foreseeable future."
"Right. Because neither Ludogorie and Nova Moldovia don't grow them, and neither of the moon colonies grows them in any significant quantities, either." Barnes summed up, "Just our fucking luck."
"Quite." Hart agreed, "But on the plus side, we still have plenty of booze and cannabis to compensate." This earned a snort from Barnes. At least they had that going for them. "Yeah, maybe we can shoot it at some Covenant ship and get its crew too drunk and stoned to fight back." This earned a laugh from the Falkirkan Officer, one that Barnes would join in.
"Are we almost done?" Came a slightly annoyed voice, one that Barnes immediately recognized and came to loathe at this point. Turning to the source of the voice had Barnes confronting one Rebecca Castilla Cole, his coworker and transport for this expedition. The look on her face made it clear how much the feeling was mutual regarding having to live and work with ODST, or any UNSC forces. But regardless of either of their feelings on the matter, they were stuck with working with one another for the next few months until this whole expedition ended.
And as far as Barnes was concerned, the sooner, the better.
"Yes, almost." Barnes politely responded, doing his best to stay civil. "Couple more crates of supplies to drop in, and we should be good."
"Good, we need to hurry this up, so this whole mess can be over and done with," Rebecca said with some annoyance, "The quicker you get off my ship, the happier I'll be."
'Feeling's mutual, bitch.' Barnes thought but restrained himself from saying it aloud instead of replying in a mockingly hurt tone, "And here I thought we were starting to get along." This earned an eye roll from the Insurrectionist Captain, but also the desired effect of getting her to leave them alone as she walked off to check on other matters. As she walked off, the ODST Colonel couldn't help but mutter, "How I will survive three months alone with her, with minimal alcohol and without killing anyone, I do not know."
A sympathetic chuckle was all the Colonel received as Major Hart slapped him on the back. "Just think of it as an extended honeymoon." He said as he started to walk off.
A glaring Barnes responded, "As your ancestors would say, sod off." This was followed by a laugh from the Falkirk Officer, "Falkirkans don't say that. We're not that English and Scottish. We just say fuck off like everyone else."
Holding his hands up in mock shame, Barnes sarcastically replies, "Oh, I'm sorry. Lemme be more culturally sensitive. Fuck off, twat." This earned a belly laugh as Major Hart walked off with a wave. Shaking his head in annoyance, Barnes walked off to find the man in charge of this entire expedition.
'Annoying Falkirkan Prick... We're gonna get along just fine.' He thought with an amused smile.
Later...
Everest Bridge
"How's everything looking, sir? Are we almost good to go?" Barnes asked as he approached the newly promoted Rear Admiral (RDML) Alexander Simmons. The admiral turned from the holotable towards the ODST, nodding at the officer's presence, "Just about. Loading up the last of the supplies, then we should be good to depart."
"And then I get to spend three months trying not to commit mass murder or suicide... yay..." Barnes muttered under his breath, lamenting his inevitable posting to a certain warship belonging to a certain admiral's... 'rebellious' daughter.
"Can't say I envy you, but you won't be the only one having to play nice with the Innies."
"You're not the one who has to live with them for three months." Barnes countered, which received a shrug and a nod conceding the point. "Still, it needs to be done, Colonel. Regardless of what either of us thinks." Simmons responded, "We need to trust that the Vice-Admiral knows what he's doing."
"Ah, you're saying that because he finally gave you that promotion." Barnes teased, slapping the man on the shoulder, "See? You're already embracing the UNSC's proud tradition of nepotism." This earned a snort from the Rear Admiral, who was more than aware of how bad nepotism ran within the UNSC, especially the Navy. Hell, the only reason Simmons had even made it into an Officer's School was that his uncle had been friends with a UEG Senator from New Carthage.
"So, what do you think we'll encounter, aside from possibly hostile CMA troopers?" Barnes asked.
"I'd rather not do or say anything to jinx us. A lot of the Fleet's on edge as it is."
"Huh, wonder why?" Barnes mused playfully but quickly got serious again, "Seriously, though. We're talking about traveling for three months nonstop without knowing what will be waiting for us. We need to have a few contingencies in place."
"You think I haven't considered that?" Simmons asked accusingly, glaring at the Colonel. The ODST held up his hands defensively, "No. I'm just saying a lot can happen in 3 months, and we ain't gonna know until we get there. We could be coming to a wonderful planet with a populace waiting on us to help evacuate. Or-"
"A glassed world." Simmons finished, earning a solemn nod from Barnes. "... Right. Nothing we can do about it, Colonel, except prepare for the worst and hope for the best."
"And be ready to haul ass faster than you can say it?"
"Exactly."
2 Hours Later...
URF Thunder Child
Hangar Bay 1
"Yay, our new home for the next few months." One of the ODST grumbled as the soldiers disembarked off the Pelican. Several soldiers agreed, grumbling and conversing about their newfound 'arrangements,' while Barnes kept quiet. Satomi's small fireteam of shinobi stepped out with her out of the pelican and began looking around, taking in the surroundings with a sense of awe and surprise. (Despite this not being their first trip onboard a starship.)
Silently observing the hangar around them, Barnes immediately noticed the difference in standards between the UNSC and URF. While the upkeep, maintenance, and overall organization weren't terrible, it was painfully clear that the URF held such things to lower standards than the UNSC Navy. With the hangar bay being expanded when this Paris-Class had first gotten its upgrades and refits, the newly clad 'Olso-Subclass' Frigate found itself with a lot more cargo space. Scores of supply boxes and canisters, full of who knows what could be seen, were set up within the hangar bay in no particular order. Or rather, things were organized somewhat, with specific equipment like medicine and weapons racks being kept together in certain areas, but this was about the extent of the organization. If a Navy Quartermaster or Logistics Specialist had seen any of this, they would have lost their shit and started putting boots up the asses of everyone responsible.
Still, at least they wouldn't be short on supplies or munitions.
He could see several Insurrectionist crew members and personnel in the hangar bay. Most had stopped whatever they were doing to observe the rather unwanted newcomers to their ships. Some had a look of curiosity on their faces, but most Innies' expressions made it very clear that the ODST weren't welcome here. "Alright, ladies and gentlemen." Barnes said nonchalantly, "Remember to play nice. Socialize. Don't loot, riot, eat the babies. All that normal civilized bullshit." This earned a few snorts and chuckles from the Helljumpers, looks of mortified confusion from the shinobi team, but most of the ODST were too on edge to lighten their moods. And he couldn't blame them. There was no doubt about it; they were in enemy territory.
They would need to be on their toes for the next few months. "Yeah... and nobody goes anywhere onboard without a battle buddy."
"Welcome, Helldogs," A voice called out, catching their attention, "To the Thunder Child." Barnes turned to see one Rebecca Cole approaching them with a trio of Innie 'soldiers' flanking her, all holding assault rifles. Barnes had no clue why these Innie 'soldiers were wearing muscle shirts, seemingly flexing their guns instead of wearing body armor when facing a platoon of spec ops soldiers. Maybe they were trying to show they weren't intimidated by the ODST, or maybe they didn't have much in the way of body armor. Either way, it was stupid of them to do this.
"Ah, H.G. Wells fan, huh?" Barnes inquired, "Well, hopefully, you ain't planning on ramming any ships, especially the Covie kind. Knew a guy who tried that with a Halberd many years ago." He shook his head, "Didn't go well for him... or the Halberd."
"Right, well, if we're in a situation that requires that, then chances are we're going to die regardless." Rebecca chided, staring at him intensely as she crossed her.
Nodding in concession, Barnes cheerfully replied, "And I have the utmost faith that our lovely captain will do everything in her power to keep that from happening."
Rebecca closed her eyes momentarily as she took a breath, trying not to roll her eyes at the statement, "Yeah, I bet." She then motioned for the soldiers to follow her, "Come on. I'll take you to your... quarters. Satomi, was it? Follow Rosco here; he'll take you to your quarters."
"Not gonna keep us all together?" Barnes inquired, which simply earned a shrug from the captain, "No. There a reason to?" without waiting for an answer, the captain of the Thunder Child started to walk off with her two bodyguards, while one of them escorted the four ninjas to their quarters.
"Oh boy, I can't wait to see our 5-star accommodations. Hopefully, they have a jacuzzi and a bar." Barnes heard Peltier grumble somewhere near him as they followed the URF Captain to their new home for the next few months.
"... The fuck is this?" was all that came out of Barnes' mouth when they reached their 'quarters.' They had been brought to one of the maintenance bays of the Thunder Child, and a small one at that. It looked like it had been a tool bay to keep spare tools and equipment typically used for maintenance, but had now been stripped of anything. Lockers, toolkits, and even benches or workbenches were taken out to leave an empty room. Aside from a couple of what looked like oil slicks on the floor, the room was empty save for one thing.
At least they'd been nice enough to leave out cots for them. 'How thoughtful,' Barnes thought scornfully, noting the big pile of them left in the middle of the room.
Rebecca, feigning innocence, shrugged and simply answered, "Your accommodations. Why, what's wrong?" As the ODST Colonel gave her a knowing 'don't bullshit me' look, knowing what she was doing, Rebecca quickly responded, "We're expecting to have hundreds if not thousands of refugees onboard. We need to try and have all the bunks and rooms we can spare for when these refugees come aboard."
"... Uh-huh. The refugees." Barnes replied in disbelief, "The same refugees we won't be seeing for roughly three months. Maybe." Rebecca simply shrugged innocently, saying, 'Nothing I can do.'
"No Latrines. No Showers. No curtains for privacy. Fucking hell, we're not even anywhere near a fucking chow hall. Not even on the same goddamn deck as one." The Colonel heard one of his soldiers, who sounded like Jackson, hiss out in a low voice. Barnes couldn't help but agree. There was bad blood, sure, but this was just outright blatant. Even worse, they couldn't even close the door to their 'room,' meaning anyone could enter their room. He'd have to post a fireguard (Not that he wasn't going to anyway. No way in hell he was going to sleep on board an Innie vessel without some kind of security measure.) just to make sure no Innies come snooping around trying to steal their shit... or slit their throats.
'I know we're not wanted on the ship, but Jesus Christ, folks, it ain't like we wanna be here either.' Barnes grumbled. 'Annnnd I got to endure this for three months with just three bottles... I'll just throw myself out the goddamn airlock now to save us all the hassle.'
"This is bullshit." One of the Troopers said as the ODST set up their 'beds' as best they could, "This is the kind of crap you expect the Weekend Warriors to put up with, not Special Fucking Forces. Why the hell aren't we on Everest?!" They had set up the cots in rows according to their respective squads, with their rucksacks and gear at the foot of each cot. A couple of ODST were pulling security outside the door, watching the hallways, making sure no Innies came snooping around to spy or cause trouble. Barnes, who'd situated himself in one of the corners of the room, sat on his cot and silently chewed on the end of a Sweet Williams. Everyone situated themselves into what would be their home for the foreseeable future. While the soldier was right, this was bullshit; there was also nothing they could do about it. Anywhere they set up shop would be a risk, especially with hundreds of hostile Insurrectionists.
Overall, he understood why Cole was having them do this. They needed to smooth relations with the URF factions and show that the ex-UNSC could play ball. However, this probably could have been done better by offering Navy Technicians and Specialists to live aboard instead. If there was bad blood between the UNSC and URF, then it would be an outright Blood Feud between ODST and Insurrectionists, and now the Innies were being told to put up with a platoon of them for several months.
He'd be amazed if there weren't at least one attempted murder during this voyage.
Thunder Child
Bridge
"Why the hell are we even tolerating them on our ship?" One of the Engineers, Isaac, grumbled with some fellow crewmen about their newfound 'guests' onboard. Several of the crewmen grumbled and discussed quietly amongst themselves, almost the majority of which
Rebecca Cole ignored them as she sat in her officer's chair pondering everything that's occurred. The past few weeks and months had been... interesting, to say the least. The first was her meeting her father for the first time in her entire life. Growing up, she'd hear stories and tales about her father from both her mother and the people she grew up with. Most of the people, admittedly Insurrectionists or their sympathizers, were either on the side of animosity or begrudging respect in their opinion of her father. Her mother, bless her heart, had seemed torn in her thoughts about him. Part of her seemed to hold on to the idea of Preston as nothing more than an asset to be exploited to help the rebellion. After all, he was working for the UNSC, so clearly he had to be the bad guy. And yet simultaneously, it was clear to Rebecca from a young age that her mother seemed to remember still the man she fell in love with fondly, often speaking very highly of her father despite him being 'the enemy.'
Given all the hype and legend built around the man, Rebecca's own first encounter with her father had been... anti-climatic, if not disappointing.
Instead of a man with a commanding presence and a fierce personality, she saw a man, slightly overweight and well past his prime, who seemed to have visibly aged 40 years after nearly 20 years of constant war and loss against the Covenant, the Insurrection, Everything. A man who seemed held together and pressing on with sheer willpower more than anything. But above all else...
Preston Cole was a man simply exhausted.
Exhausted with bearing the weight of humanity's survival on his shoulders. Exhausted with having to confront the problems of humanity, Exhausted with constantly fighting one campaign, one battle after another, against a relentless and merciless enemy with ultimately nothing to show for it. Did any of his stunning victories somehow turn the tide of war? Force the Covenant to the negotiating table?
No.
Preston Cole had fought stellar and remarkable campaigns against a technologically and numerically superior enemy yet was still losing the war. In a sense, his military career could be compared to Robert E. Lee or Hannibal's. They won every or almost every single engagement they fought in, yet still lost their respective wars. And Preston simply wanted a way out. To live out what years he had left in peace.
That's what Rebecca saw when she looked at the man who sired her. And yet, despite this, it was almost as if something wouldn't let him stop simultaneously.
Hence he'd asked her, behind her mother's back, to help him rescue a planet full of people under threat of annihilation. She wasn't sure why her mother didn't know of this plan, but would likely be quickly aware once many ships, namely hers, went missing. Nevertheless, despite being unapproving of her serving on a warship, her father seemed willing to trust her abilities and leadership in assisting with a major evacuation. (One that, for some strange reason or another, her mother had decided against helping.) While she wasn't particularly fond of the CMA or its remnants, it still didn't sit right with her to simply leave hundreds of millions of people to their deaths if there was something they could do about it.
That was the whole reason they came out here, right? To find a new home for humanity to hide and rebuild its strength? Sure, not every colony or its people could be saved, but this one could be saved. Shouldn't they at least try and get something out of it?
To her mother, that answer seemed to be a resounding no.
But her mother wasn't here right now, and she'd agreed to the plan. Too late to turn back now. Nevertheless, she wasn't too keen on having a bunch of Helljumpers onboard. She could tolerate working with ex-UNSC staff and personnel. Many within her ship's own crew were former UNSC or CMA. But to be made to house Orbital Drop Shock Troopers? On her ship?! That was something she had an issue with. The Helljumpers may have been seen as heroes by the UNSC and the people of the Inner Colonies, but that's because they'd never been on the receiving end of an ODST raid or attack. People of the Outer Colonies, particularly those living in the conflict zones of the Insurrection, detested the special forces soldiers for a multitude of reasons. The ODST were used to great effect in military crackdowns, detaining, arresting, and even executing or assassinating people throughout the Outer Colonies at the behest of ONI spec-ops missions. However, many of those people finding themselves staring down a Helljumper more often than not had nothing to do with the Insurgency and were simply innocents caught in the crossfire. For the Inner Colonies, they were heroes. For the Outer Colonies, they were no better than the Waffen-SS or NKVD of old if either one had been actual special forces.
And now she was supposed to house some for several months? In some ridiculous attempt at mending bridges? She could have tolerated it if it had been Marines, Army, or Navy personnel. But Helljumpers? Hell no. She would tolerate them, no more, no less. But the moment they attempted anything, she was tossing them out of the airlock. A part of her hoped it came to that so that she'd be rid of their Colonel. But for now, she'd put up with it.
The last thing she needed to worry about was both the Covenant and her passengers.
December 11, 2543 (UNSC Military Calendar)
Kenhaba, Sky Country
Yasuda Residence, Backyard
Yasuda Tetsuo hit the ground hard, eliciting a small yelp of pain as he did so. Yasuda Kazuko, however, didn't give him any time to recover, pressing his advantage as they continued their taijutsu training. "Come on. Get up, Tetsuo. Your enemies will not wait for you to get off the ground." Though slowed by his career-ending injury, the former shinobi was still quick enough to pounce on his cousin before he could get back up. Kazuko slammed his foot down, wincing as he did so, but forcing Tetsuo to roll away to avoid being stomped on. Quickly rising to his feet, Tetsuo charged, jumping up and swinging a kick aimed at his uncle's face. However, being a seasoned shinobi and warrior, even if it had been years since either had been done, Kazuko caught the foot, throwing his nephew over him and slamming the boy into the dirt.
"Too obvious, kid. You signaled that attack from a mile away." As Tetsuo struggled to get up, he said, "I thought ninjas were supposed to be full of surprises."
The onyx-haired boy struggled to get up, panting and sweating after nearly two hours of sparring and ninjutsu practice this morning. Kazuko may have agreed to help teach him, but that didn't mean he would go easy on his nephew. Tetsuo's first experience with combat, especially against what sounded to be some new faction, should have been an eye-opener for the boy that his career wasn't something to take lightly. Hopefully, these training sessions would help reinforce that idea.
Young, forest-green eyes looked up into older eyes of a similar color, still full of determination and vigor, even if Tetsuo's body said otherwise. His auburn hair was matted with a layer of dirt and sweat. As he started struggling to get up, Kazuko suddenly called it, "Alright. That's enough for today." Tetsuo began to protest but was cut off, "Tetsuo, you've done well today. But it won't do you any good if you're too battered even to move. You need to keep in mind your body's limits."
Kazuko quickly helped the younger Yasuda to his feet, then shooed him inside, "Now, go on. Inside, a nice bath then breakfast. We'll go over what you should improve on then." Tetsuo seemed like he wanted to protest but relented and obeyed his uncle as he slowly walked inside. As his nephew walked out of sight, the older retired shinobi let out a groan of relief as he slumped his posture slightly. He gulped in a breath of air, holding his sides in pain. The back of his injured calf also felt as if it was on fire after what he put it through.
'Am I really this much out of shape?! Kami, I thought I was going to die for a moment.' He thought bitterly, slightly ashamed that he had let himself go this badly in his years retired from shinobi service. And here he thought that, despite his injury, he'd thought that he'd kept himself in fairly good shape. But having both your tendon and the back of your calf getting sliced into by a knife makes it hard to run or put any serious weight on it, thus you tend to cut back on any sort of exercise. Despite that, he thought he'd stayed in pretty good shape over the years.
Apparently not.
As the older Yasuda slowly regained his breath and limped back inside, he could hear both his wife and daughter in the kitchen making breakfast for the family. While Mio, his daughter, had been mainly indifferent to the idea either way, like most children her age tended to be, his wife Koyomi had been against the idea of continuing Tetsuo's service within the Ninja Corps after the two of them got a better idea as to what happened. While Tetsuo couldn't go into too many details, for obvious reasons, the two adults had garnered enough from the boy's retelling of how his first mission went to get a fairly decent idea of what happened. Countries like Fire Country or Marsh Country would be bad enough as-is for a young recruit to fight, but a new faction with strange weapons capable of annihilating entire companies of Shinobi? For Koyomi, such ideas terrified her. She wanted Tetsuo to have nothing to do with such things that could kill him so quickly and brutally. But Yasuda knew that, unfortunately, once one joins the Shinobi Corps, you don't just leave a few months later after deciding it's not for you. When you join, you're going to put some time into it and serve the nation. You don't get to leave after one mission. Whether he liked it or not, Tetsuo was committed to the shinobi service for the next couple of years.
Kazuko walked through the door to the sight of his wife and daughter in the kitchen finishing up breakfast. Looking up from the rice she was stirring, Koyomi looked up to her dirty and sweaty husband entering the room and scowled. Scrunching up her nose, she quickly said, "How did it go? And you better take a bath before sitting at the table, mister."
Kazuko held his hands up defensively and laughed, "I will, dear. Just letting Tetsuo go first. And yeah, he did alright. He's never been someone to fight from the front, but he's catching on quick."
Doubt still lingering, his wife looked away slightly, her silvery hair shifting somewhat in its bun, "I still don't think it's a good idea for him to stay in-"
"And we've been over this, dear. You don't just get to leave the service after one mission. He's stuck with the service for at least a few years. With all the years and resources they invested into him, the government will want something in return to make up for those investments." Kazuko explained in a calming tone, "But that's why we're going to help him with his training and help make sure he keeps coming back home to us."
Scowling, Koyomi sighed in resignation, finishing up her stirring of the rice bowl before setting the prepared food to the side to work on another bowl of rice. The retired shinobi grimaced slightly at his wife's discomfort, knowing full well that this wasn't the end of the discussion but also understanding her frustration and concern. But she was also from a peasant family, ones who never understood what exactly it meant to be a shinobi or a warrior in general. It would be impossible for someone like her to ever truly understand.
Kazuko enjoyed his own time in the bath but made sure not to linger in the bath as his family would need help with the customers about to enter the store. The morning rush was about to begin, so they'd need all hands on deck to handle the incoming surge. Luckily, with Tetsuo back home for the foreseeable future, it would make handling these rushes a lot easier.
He finished putting on his clothing as the sound of someone entering their store could be heard, followed closely by his daughter greeting their first customer, "Welcome! How may we service youuuuuuuUWAAAHHHHH! AHHHH~!" Mio's sudden scream has the retired shinobi rushing down the stairs, despite the stabbing pain of his leg injury. Leg injury or not, nobody was going to harm his daughter. Storming down the stairs, the sight he was greeted by was one he never expected. All three of his surviving family were looking at the entrance with stares of either awe or shock. Looking over, he saw why they were shocked.
Standing at the entrance with an Iron Guardsman on either flank, was none other than the Sukiakage, Miura Kenji.
December 11, 2543
Uzushio Island Chain
Uzushio Island
Ruins of Uzushiogakure
'Shinsei Societal/Cultural' Archaeology Outpost w/ UNSC Army, Charlie Company, ARC-BAG/1/4* as Security Garrison
The UNSC Army Trooper walked cautiously over the rubble of what had once been someone's home, his M392 held in one hand as he carefully traversed the broken brick and wood that littered the ground. Occasionally, an individual's skeletal and tattered clothing remains could were sprawled out on the ground. Some of them had been cut down where they stood. Others were crushed by falling debris or seemingly eviscerated or dismembered by unknown means. It was a slaughter for the people who once called this place home.
Specialist David Moser, who used to call Harvest his home, found the scene hitting a little too close to home. The only difference between this and Harvest was that this place hadn't been glassed.
Moser looked around at the ruins surrounding him, scanning for anything or anyone that didn't belong, but was satisfied to see no signs of them having company in the city. Once the center of a sprawling civilization, the city was truly dead and abandoned, except for the small team of researchers and soldiers pulling security for them. If they had a choice, they wouldn't be here right now, especially with how thin UNSC forces are spread across the Aquarii Star Cluster, but they needed more information on the capabilities of the locals if they wanted to try and call this place home. And Moser was convinced that you'd have to be a fool to believe that those swamp ninjas were telling them everything they knew. In their position, he sure as hell wouldn't.
Unfortunately, HIGHCOM had come to the same conclusion, so... here they were. Helping scientists dig through a mass grave to hopefully find some helpful material and documents that may have survived gives them better insight into how these natives acted and how this whole 'ninjutsu' crap worked.
"To think hundreds of thousands used to call this place home." Doctor Azarov Semenov said to no one in particular, walking up next to the Specialist. The Specialist noted that the 39-year-old's facial features were weathered by years of exposure to the elements and overworking himself in his work. In the short time he'd known Semenov, it was clear to Moser that the doctor was a man married to his work and happily at that. He was a seeker of knowledge and had a soft spot for Human Archeology and history, even in an age where most of humanity's past was now considered more a part-time hobby than a serious field of study anymore. To be able to explore human relics like this, and on an unknown human civilization at that, was probably a dream come true. But that wasn't to say archeology was Semenov's sole profession. In fact, that was more of a hobby of his. He has an Engineer's and Master's Degree in engineering and xenobiology, respectively. Both are useful for work in the terraforming and xeno-studies industries Semenov worked in on Groombridge-1830. Unfortunately for the scientist, the Covenant's arrival at Groombridge in 2530 spelled doom for the colony and his career. As soon after the UNSC defeated the Covenant, Groombridge was abandoned. All 33 million inhabitants would be evacuated from the world and sent to other colonies. Desperate to avoid bankruptcy due to the morbid costs of relocating operations, the company he worked for began a mass layoff of employees. To Azarov's surprise, being one of their best scientists, this had included him. The only thing that had saved him from being 'enlisted' into ONI had ironically-
"Specialist Moser?"
Semenov snapped Moser out of his thoughts, who was giving him a concerned look. The soldier quickly waved it off, "Sorry, doc. Spaced out for a minute. What was it you said?"
"I asked that you were a survivor of Harvest, correct?"
Eyes narrowing, Moser slowly responded, "Yeah, I was 13 when they attacked... why?"
Semenov seemed to give him a look of pity, "My condolences. To survive such an event and now come here to another mass grave. I can't imagine that's easy for you."
Moser pondered it for a moment, looking around at the ruins of a once majestic city... and simply shrugged, "I survived Jericho VII and New Harmony. I've seen worse than this, and at least they didn't get glassed. They could have escaped this. Kinda hard to escape a glassing."
"You think some of the inhabitants survived? The destruction and massacres seemed pretty thorough."
"You know how hard it is to search an entire city? Every little nook and cranny within every house or street? Now try doing that for an entire country. There's simply no way to do it outside of using a WMD. And I doubt these guys have anything similar to a nuke or VX-7. Some of them had to survive, even devastation as bad as this." Moser looked around at a few of the skeletal remains beneath him. To think so many people used to live here. This city must have been their equivalent of New York or Hong Kong before it was destroyed. From what few records they've recovered, this city was calle-
Moser suddenly stopped what he was doing and snapped his DMR up at a set of ruined buildings to his left, his motion tracker having detected a red dot to his right. But movement caught in his peripherals had caused him to snap his weapon up in alert, well before the motion tracker noticed anything.
"Specialist Moser?!" Semenov said in alarm, but he ignored him as he scanned the area where he thought he spotted something. His motion tracker went red with whatever it had detected, which wasn't a good sign. The insurrectionists they were working with would still occasionally appear red on the motion tracker, but the only 'Innies' here were the scientists and none of them had been appearing red. There had been rumors circulating about these scientists finding a shipwreck off the coast of this island. When they prodded Semenov about it, the doctor quickly clammed up and got very nervous when they mentioned the word 'shipwreck.' That and the scientists being seen removing some kind of painting that had been wrapped up in cloth had only further riled up the rumors and theories as to what they found. And some of those theories had gotten very concerning.
Was it possible that... No, surely not. Sure it wasn't them... Not here... Was it?
"Moser?! You see something?" he heard the rest of his squad come up from behind, alerted by him suddenly raising up his weapon and scanning the broken houses before him. Moser continued scanning the destroyed houses and broken buildings before him, looking for whatever it was that had caught his attention. But as hard as he looked, there didn't seem to be anything out of place. He wasn't even entirely sure what he saw that caused him to snap his weapon up, but all it took was for the corner of his eye to catch something and his instincts immediately shouted 'enemy.' And in his days of service within the UNSC, that meant one of two things. Either Insurrectionist... or god forbid...
"..."
"Moser?"
"... I guess not. Must have seen an animal and got spooked." Moser finally relented, lowering his weapon slightly as he continued looking. Despite his best efforts, he couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Scowling, as he was sure he saw something, Moser slowly stood down and eased back to his squad to talk to them about whether or not he actually saw something. Maybe they'll send out a patrol to investigate.
After all, there were things like ninjas in these lands, and Moser silently prayed to whatever deity was out there that they were the only thing they had to worry about.
Dekar 'Nythrus, Former Arbiter of the Covenant, watched silently from the shadows of his hiding spot as the strange humans went about their work within the mass grave that was once Uzushiogakure. For a moment, he feared he'd been spotted by the one human holding the long Arcabuz-like weapon in his hands, but the human and his companions must have decided he'd been mistaken in whatever he saw as he went back to assisting the other human male in its exploration of the ruins. He quietly cursed his carelessness at getting too close to the humans, as it was clear just by looking at them they were different from all the others who called this planet home.
He had been returning to his small hut on the island following a hunt in Wave Country, hearing rumors of a pair of individuals wearing the colors of the Akatsuki being seen in the tiny island nation (A story that had proven fruitless.) when he spotted a strange object flying through the sky at incredible speeds. The metallic color and the sound of its mighty engines were a noise he knew far too well. The sound of a dropship flying through the atmosphere. Initially, he feared that after all this time, the Covenant had located him, still determined to slay the one they called 'Fallen Arbiter,' but those fears were quickly dashed when he observed the design of the aircraft. Though he had been gone from the realm of the empire for many winters, no aircraft within the Covenant's arsenal looked remotely similar to the machine he watched fly through the sky. No Covenant dropship used a green color scheme. The vessel looked more like one of the native avian flyers of this planet than the more organic and bulbous look of many Covenant craft. Whoever it belonged to, it wasn't anyone of the Covenant.
Then he saw the dropship head towards the once Whirlpool Country lands, joined by three more of its type as they flew low over the water and towards the ruins of Uzshiogakure. This warranted an immediate investigation. Following as best he could, he was rewarded for his efforts a couple of days later with the sight of all four dropships landing in a clearing near the ruins of the ancient Uzumaki homeland. But what he hadn't expected to see were a bunch of humans with strange armor and weaponry exiting the vehicles.
'Who are they?' he wondered as the individuals in question went about the ruins, either clearing rubble from the road or investigating structures or remains. The humans were adorned in what he could only describe as combat armor. The weapons they were carrying must have been some sort of projectile throwing firearm, not unlike what the Sangheili fielded in the ages of old, before their ascension to the stars. But these weapons, just from observation, looked far more advanced than any of the Arcabuz firearms used by the Romanus in Esura. (Which themselves were the most advanced civilization on the planet until these people had arrived.) While many of them did look like people who belonged to the Romanus, the Tauro, or the Austrvegr, it was impossible that these people could have been from any of the nations of Esura. The last time he had been in the lands of Esura was just three years ago, and there had been no indication that they had access to any of this technology. They had only just recently, as in the past 70 years, learned how to harness the powers of steam, crude oil, and black powder for firearms, so for them to have gone from that to outright dropships and firearms of such refinement was purely absurd to consider for any sane person.
So this left only one conclusion. A new faction. But where did they come from?
In the decades he'd spent trapped on this world, Dekar had traveled to nearly every corner of the planet known by the Edo as 'Shinsei,' and encountered most if not all of the human civilizations that called this world home. And not one of them looked or appeared even remotely this advanced in their technology. So where had they come from?
Overhearing their conversations provided some key information crucial to revealing the secret of their origins. He wasn't familiar with names such as 'Haarvust,' 'Jerako seveen,' or 'New Haarmoney,' but to these people, they were clearly locations of significant importance. But where were these places? Here? Somewhere in or near Esura? His mind wandered back to some of the rumors and myths the people believed about a secret civilization living in the frozen northern continent of 'Kōtta-Sekai,' or Snelandia as it was known by the Esurans, or of the southernmost land known as Barapha, another frozen hellhole situated around the planet's south pole. Those notions were immediately dismissed from his mind as absurd. Kōtta-Sekai did harbor much in the way of life, but nowhere enough to support a massive civilization. Most of the fauna lived in the oceans, as the land is too inhospitable for most plant life to support agriculture. And Barapha was even more barren than that, with hardly anything in the way of life existing on its frozen wastelands. And if this civilization that supposedly lived at either of these locations were as advanced as the individuals before him, then they would have no need to stay in such areas when they could easily take over lands in Edo or Esura that were much more habitable from the local powers. But that still didn't explain where they had come from. And they seemed to be interested in Uzshiogakure, too. What interest would they have in a dead and desolate city?
'...They must be investigated further. I must make sure Kushina is safe from these people.' Dekar thought as he watched the newcomers continue to excavate the ruins of a once-mighty city.
David Moser stared blankly at the spot of rubble he'd been clearing away, hands trembling and his breath hitched in his throat as he stared at the object that had caused him to stop digging. He'd refused to believe what he was looking at beneath him, at first. But he'd seen them far too many times to confuse it for anything else. A thousand thoughts swam through his head. Why was it here? How did it get here? And worst yet, if he found this, then what had he really seen earlier moving within the ruined buildings? The thought terrified him to no end, especially considering the implications present before him, as a dark thought in his mind hissed that he knew damn well what he'd seen, but refused to believe his own eyes. "Moser? You find something?" He heard his sergeant call out from behind, but he made no move to acknowledge that he'd heard him. His mind was too ransacked with thoughts that filled his very soul with terror.
David Moser continued to stare at the Covenant Plasma Rifle, cracked and slightly rusted but still showing its vibrant royal purple coating, laying in the rubble, and his heart filled with dread at the implications.
That the Covenant have been to this planet...
*UNSC Army, Charlie Company, ARC-BAG/1/4 stands for Charlie Company of the Arcadia-raised 1st Battalion, 3rd Infantry Brigade.
And that's it for this chapter. I'm looking to get another chapter out before my little break is done in June, so be on the lookout for that. Hope you all enjoyed the chapter and let me know what you thought in the reviews.
See you next time!
-Azores
