Hello again, everyone, and welcome back to my Halo/Star Wars crossover redux.
Thank you all for your wonderful feedback and support. I deeply appreciate it.
After some careful consideration, I've decided to put the story on hiatus after the next chapter is posted. This is the chapter before that one, and it will be the start of two storylines. What they are, I will not tell you, but I can say that sometimes the past comes back to haunt one in ways we never expect.
As always, leave a review, and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Halo or Star Wars franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of Microsoft Studios, 343 Industries, Bungie, Lucasfilm, 20th Century Fox, Disney Films, etc. Any material original to the franchises belongs to their respective developers, producers and publishers. Any material not original to the franchises is of my own invention. I do not own any music listed in each chapter. Any music listed belongs to its original composers and/or artists.
UNSC MOB Bastion
Pantoran Highlands, Pantora
June 28th, 0BBY, 1000 Hrs (February 13th, 2559, 1000 Hrs)
If there was a way that I didn't figure my career going, it would be this way, Cole thought as he worked at his desk. Already, he was looking at an impressive stack of paperwork that was on his desk, from forms that would authorize the construction of new parts of the base, to requests that the Pantoran Defense Force was making of the UNSC. While all of them were going to be considered, examined, and either signed or rejected, the fact that there were so many already was enough to cause lesser men to begin questioning their sanity.
Cole glanced outside, gazing past the energy shielded window and at the world outside. Snow capped mountains dominated the landscape, with craggy mountain faces interrupted by the occasional white streak of snow. Here and there were small green patches of lichen that gave some life to the area. Further down the mountain, one could see large patches of snow, as well as evergreen trees that dotted the landscape. Further down, and the mountains were dominated by vast swaths of evergreen trees that were covered in snow.
For those that enjoyed living in such a region, it was nothing short of heaven, an alpine paradise where one could get away from it all. For the UNSC and Swords of Sangheilios, the Pantoran Highlands were perfect for the establishment of main operating bases that would help coordinate the flow of UEG and UNSC ships from the Milky Way Galaxy to the Andromeda Galaxy. Once the civilian fleet had arrived, and the current treaties between the UNSC and Pantoran Assembly expanded upon, the UNSC Corps of Engineers had quickly plopped down the MOB that Cole was now sitting inside of.
Cole could also see the Swords of Sangheilios MOB that was just two kilometers away from Bastion Base. Unlike its UNSC counterpart, which was all sharp angles, geometric shapes, and the standard olive green/matte gray color scheme the UNSC used, the Swords of Sangheilios base had the appearance of having been grown, rather than built. A tall spire dominated the base, with smaller structures being built nearby. The base was also a beautiful burnished autumn brown color that gleamed in the light of Pantora's sun.
Goes to show how far we've come since the end of the Covenant-UNSC War, Cole thought. A few years ago, we would've been engaged in extremely close combat if we built these bases at such close ranges. He shrugged. The more he thought about how the Covenant-UNSC War ended, the more he realized that it had been sheer luck that had brought them all together.
He was about to continue working at his desk job when the HoloCOM projector built into his desk chimed. Keying it, he watched as the face of a middle aged woman appeared. The woman had blond hair with streaks of gray running through it, and her tanned skin was wrinkled with age and the stresses of life. Her brown eyes, however, held a vitality that belied her appearance as well as an intelligence and cunning that most people didn't have.
Cole knew who the woman was on the spot. "Lieutenant General O'Connor," he said. "What can I do for you?
"Checking in," she said, her tone of voice all business like. "I was wondering what the status of the defense fleet is currently, as well as the status of the shipyard that is being built. Given that we, along with Lieutenant General Hogan Grant, are charged with the defense of Pantora, I feel that giving each other regular status updates would be beneficial to task force cohesion, as well as organization."
Cole nodded. He fully understood the need to have regular progress reports on things that were going on. "Fair enough," he said. "The shipyard that the civilian fleet began construction of has been completed. We currently have enough capacity to repair six vessels simultaneously. I've also authorized the construction of a second shipyard over Pantora to further bolster our ship building and repair capabilities."
"That's good to hear."
"It is," Cole said. "So, how about you? I've given you a progress report. It's only natural for you to do the same now."
O'Connor laughed. "Fair enough," she said. "Given that I'm in charge of colonial defense, same as you, I was able to have Cleese convince the Pantorans to allow us to begin constructing some Moncton-class ODPs to better protect Pantora against pirate incursions or even an Imperial invasion."
"And how is that coming?"
"We've gotten four operational so far," O'Connor said. "That being said, our goal is to have another four more operational before the week is out. So far, we're ahead of schedule in getting those assembled and ready. If all continues to go well, we should reach our projection of 70 ODPs within four months."
"Very good. That'll make our job of defending Pantora much easier in the long run. If memory serves correctly, a single Moncton ODP's gun can fire a slug fast enough to punch through two Covenant Supercarriers and severely damage a third."
"That it does," O'Connor agreed. "I've looked at the design information on the Imperial I-class Star Destroyer. A single shot from an ODP would be enough to literally rip one of those things in half. Talk about poor ship design. Besides, who would be dumb enough to have the bridge at the highest point of the ship and exposed in the way it is."
"Yeah, who would? All that tells me is that the Empire is more concerned about how a ship looks rather than how it's supposed to work. I've read up on the Tarkin Doctrine, and I can say that the man that wrote it is, legitimately, a fool. Aside from all of that, though, how's the hangar for your Sabres coming?"
"Fine," O'Connor said. "We've run into a few complications, though nothing that wasn't taken care of in short order. I've also asked Admiral Kovalics if he can have the civilian fleet build a manufacturing facility for the Sabres. We'll need more of them if we're going to have a chance at fending off the smaller fighters that any pirates might be smart enough to send along."
"Let me guess: he's still getting things built?"
"Yep," O'Connor said. "According to him, though, the creation of a production facility for the Sabres is on his list of priority factories to build. Should all go well, we should have a manufacturing facility set up in short order."
"Good," Cole said. "Speaking of progress reports, is Lieutenant General Grant on the line?"
"I am now," came a deeper voice. Moments later, the holographic image of a middle aged man appeared over the holoprojector. The man was fairly tall, with green eyes, brown hair and pale skin. A giant of a man, General Grant was half-jokingly nicknamed 'Magni' due to his massive size, as well as his penchant for using artillery in a battlefield. The nickname was also appropriate due to Grant's Nordic heritage; rumor had it that his ancestors lived during the time that the Vikings existed. "Need anything?" he asked.
"Just getting a progress report," Cole said. "Lieutenant General O'Connor felt that sharing information on how things are coming along in our areas of the military would be beneficial for task for cohesion."
"Fair enough," Grant grunted. "We're planning on establishing more bases on Pantora, though Ambassador Cleese is having to arrange for more building sites with the Pantorans. They're being quite picky about where we're going to be setting up shop on the planet. I've also been speaking with Lieutenant General Jacob Holtzmann on that front as well. He's happy with the barracks that's been set up for the Marines, but like me, he's hoping that we'll have more MOBs for the Army, Air Force and Marines soon."
"Agreed," Cole said. "We'll have to wait for things to progress within the Pantoran Assembly. Cleese is currently hammering out a number of political agreements with them to enable that to happen. Beyond that, I don't think there is much we can do aside from continuing to do what we're doing right now."
"Fair enough," Grant said. "In the meantime, we'll fortify the current MOB we have. I've already got fixed M400A2 Howitzer emplacements set up, with presighting of the area being done as we speak. If the Empire or any pirates decide to invade, they'll learn why the Covenant found out UNSC artillery was so dangerous to them."
Cole nodded. While he wasn't too privy on matters that went on in the Army, Cole knew from experience that the Army's artillery shells and artillery weapons were nothing short of nasty. "I know what you mean," he said. "I've seen some of your handiwork."
"Yep," Grant said. "If those pirate and any Imperials get past your fleets and the ODPs, they'll learn really quick that they're not safe from the Army's artillery." After a moment, he said, "I should probably cut this call short. I've got some more matters to tend to. Talk with you later?"
"Sure," Cole said. As Grant's hologram faded out of view, Cole asked, "O'Connor?"
"I'll have to be going too," O'Connor said. "I'll talk later with you and see if we can improve the coordination between the Navy and Air Force, since colonial defense is the Air Force's primary job. I'll talk to you again when I'm available, Cole."
"You too," Cole said. Once O'Connor's hologram faded out, Cole clasped his hands and rested his chin on his thumbs. So far, things are looking up, he thought, but I won't expect it to remain that way. My gut is telling me that, sooner or later, we're going to have another crisis on our hands, especially given the Death Star's existence.
A thought crossed through his mind, reminding him of another thing that he had been wanting to do since the two fleets had arrived. Ah, yes, he decided. Standing up, he moved into the adjacent room nearby, which held a HoloCOM system for his personal use. Keying it, he quickly selected the contact marked out. Once the call was pending, he activated the security measures. A thick metal door slid over the entrance, while soundproofing and Faraday Shielding was activated, making the room practically bug-proof. Once that was done, Cole began to wait.
When the civilian fleet had arrived, they installed an FTL COM buoy in the star system to ensure reliable FTL communications from Pantora all the way to Earth, courtesy of a chain of similar buoys in the void between the two galaxies. To prevent the buoys from being destroyed, each one was offloaded when the ship carrying them was in Slipspace, ensuring that enemy fire wouldn't destroy the buoys. Acquiring them was no issue either, as the fleet had specially designed ships that could bring the buoys out of Slipspace for servicing and maintenance.
As such, when Cole issued a call request to Vice Admiral Sark, it was just a few seconds before the call request was accepted. Moments later, Cole watched as the hologram of a middle aged woman with black hair and green eyes appeared before him. Looking up, she said, "Vice Admiral Cole. Need me for something?"
"Yes," Cole said. "I was wanting to ask you a few questions concerning the UNSC Infinity, as well as the circumstances of her design and manufacture. Do you mind if I do?"
"Not at all," Sark said, a smile on her face. "The Infinity is my pride and joy, my pièce de résistance if you will." Clasping her hands, she asked, "So, what would you like to know about her?"
"I was wanting to know why the ship was designed without my input," Cole said. "From what I recall, the Infinity entered the design phase around 2530, during the Covenant-UNSC War, in case the Covenant were successful in destroying Earth. However, that means that there was around 13 years during which you could've spoken with me on the design of the ship. Mind if I ask why?"
Sark frowned. "I see," she said. "To be honest, Cole, I wanted you to have some input on the design of the ship as well. Unfortunately, when HIGHCOM suspected that you were compromised by the Insurrectionists, I was forced to remove you from the list of Admirals that would be in the know on Project OUROBOROS. Personally, it was a decision that I disagreed with. You were one of the greatest admirals to ever lead the UNSC Navy. However, HIGHCOM didn't think you were trustworthy, so they blocked any attempts I made at a petition to have the decision reversed."
I see, Cole thought to himself. "So, it was politics that kept me from being in the know on the project?" he asked.
"Yes," Sark said. "Again, as I said, I believe it was a colossal error in judgment and a missed opportunity. Had you been allowed to give input on the design of the Infinity, a number of errors we made would've been rectified a long time ago. I personally believe that some of your decisions have helped rectify those errors."
"Then we're in agreement," Cole said. "That being said, are you aware of the… other problem that we're facing?"
"Yes," Sark said. "Is this HoloCOM channel encrypted?"
Leaning slightly, Cole checked the encryption status for the room. "Yes," he said.
"Good," Sark said. "To answer your question a second time, yes. I am firmly aware of the Death Star and its capabilities. To be frank, it seems like a waste of valuable resources to me simply to make a station whose sole purpose is to destroy planets that support rebels. It's like using a hammer to perform surgery instead of a scalpel."
"I agree," Cole said. "Judging from what I've read about the Tarkin Doctrine, the Death Star is designed to be used as a weapon of terror. Basically, make it to where if you try to rebel, your planet is put into the crosshairs of the space station. What Tarkin fails to realize is that, with such a cruel, heavy handed gesture, you will incite rebellion, not stop it."
"Agreed," Sark said. "If the Empire really wanted to stop rebellions from happening, they would've instituted reforms that would give the people more power, and convert the government from a junta into a constitutional monarchy. Apparently, though, the only people in charge of the government are neo-fascistic idiots that think that military power solves everything when it doesn't." Taking a breath, she said, "Sorry. Had to let off some steam."
"That's fine," Cole said. "I do the same thing too. So, do you have a plan for destroying the Death Star?"
"Well, the NOVA bombs sent to the Infinity are a part of it," Sark said. "Given that you're the same clearance level as I am, and that you know of the Death Star, I believe you should know what we're doing as well." Clearing her throat, she said, "What we're doing is designing a delivery system so that, if we run into the Death Star, we can fire off a single missile with a NOVA bomb as its warhead. One single shot, and the Death Star will be completely destroyed. You've seen the footage of what happened at that one Sangheili colony, have you?"
Cole nodded. The NOVA bomb was the most powerful weapon in the UNSC's entire arsenal. A weapon designed by Vice Admiral Whitcomb, the NOVA bomb consisted of nine nuclear fusion warheads, each one encased in a shell of litium triteride. When detonated, the shells would be compressed to neutron-star levels of density, boosting the yield exponentially. The weapon was powerful enough that, when detonated on a planet, the resulting blast was enough to cause the planet to be shattered into thousands of pieces. "I have," Cole said at length. "It wasn't pretty, I can tell you that. I can imagine what would happen to the Death Star if the weapon went off."
"Indeed," Sark said. "The Death Star would be completely vaporized by the intense thermal radiation generated by the bomb. However, the problem isn't power, it's delivery method. A NOVA bomb is large, too large for our purposes, so what we're doing is we're having to make it small enough to fit into an Archer missile. If we can get it that small, we'll be set."
"Good," Cole said. "That'll be a tremendous amount of firepower that the UNSC can use." Noting the time, he said, "I'd best be leaving now. I don't want to take up anymore of your time if I can help it. Talk with you later?"
"Of course," Sark said. "If you need to speak with me more, Cole, I'll be here." With that, Cole ended the COM call, with Sark's hologram fading out of view.
Once he left the room, Cole sat down behind his desk. So, the reason I wasn't consulted when the Infinity was designed was because of the fact that I was a suspected Innie sympathizer. He shook his head. Damn politicians. They get so worried about rebellions that they begin to question the loyalty of people like me. He sighed. Oh, well, I suppose. Not much one can do other than ride out the storm. At least I have a few more answers, though. With his curiosity sated for the time being, he returned to his duties for the day.
. . .
While Cole was busy with his work down on Pantora, Lieutenant Colonel Parisa was moving towards RDML-117's office, her mind squarely focused on what she was going to be doing. It had been several weeks since she had been able to gain the security clearance needed to find out more about the Spartan-II Program, as well as all of those that were involved in the project. She had hoped that it wasn't as bad as what the initial files had made it out to be.
Unfortunately, though, the program, while enabling the survival of Humanity in the long run, had plenty of dark moments for her to learn about. Military training of children, purposeful abandonment of those children, augmentations that were not rendered safe yet… She shook her head. What was ONI thinking going ahead with such a program?!
She took a deep breath to calm herself down. Get a grip on yourself, she thought. You'll do no one good, least of all John, if you get angry and upset. The only way you'll get answers is if you remain calm. Letting the breath out explosively, she proceeded to the door of Chief's office. Pinging it, she waited for someone to reply.
She was surprised when a voice said, "Hello, Parisa. Is there something you need?"
"That you, Cortana?" Parisa asked.
"Of course it is," Cortana said. "Was there something you needed?"
"Yeah," Parisa said. "I was wondering if I could speak with RDML-117."
"He's currently away on business," Cortana said. "However, if you want, you can wait inside of his office."
"That'll work." With that, the door opened, with Parisa walking into Chief's office. Once the door was closed, she said, "I take it you want to know why I want to talk to him."
"I can hazard a guess," Cortana said. "I take it you've finished reading about the Spartan-II Program, yes?"
"I have. To say that I'm angry is like asking if the sun is in the sky. I don't know if I should thank ONI, or blow the whistle on them. I can understand wanting to stop the Insurrection, but using child soldiers is not the way to do it! That's how dictatorships run things, not democracies!"
"So you're not too happy with how ONI did things at all, yes?" Cortana asked rhetorically. When Parisa didn't reply, she said, "I thought as much."
"Yeah," Parisa said. Looking at the holo-table, which now had Cortana's avatar over it, she asked, "Why did you do it?"
"Come again?" Cortana asked.
"Why did you share all that info on the Spartan-II Program with me? You had a million reasons not to do so, yet you chose to. Why?"
Cortana was silent as she considered Parisa's words. Parisa was right; there were a million legitimate reasons why sharing the classified information on the Spartan-II Program was not to be shared with Parisa. There was one, however, that had been the deciding factor in it all. "I wanted you to have closure," she said at length. "I dug up your psyche profile after John's disappearance. You fell into a deep depression when John seemingly passed away from numerous neurological symptoms and the like. Your grades in school plummeted and you had to take some corrective education in order to earn your General Education Degree, after which you joined the UNSC Marines and began climbing the ranks."
"So all you wanted to do for me was ensure that I could finally earn some closure?" Parisa asked.
"Yes. That's exactly the reason. I wanted you, Parisa Monica, to finally have closure."
Parisa sat down, her mind a whirl of emotions and thoughts. So the reason why Cortana shared that information with me is because she wanted me to finally have closure, she thought. She laughed ruefully. "Damn. To think that I learned all this because you wanted me to have closure." Looking at Cortana, she said, "Well, for what it's worth… Thank you, Cortana. At least I can finally stop moping about in the past and start living in the present."
"Of course," Cortana said with a smile. "Anytime, Parisa. If you want, you can wait in your quarters until John arrives. He'll be a while."
"No," Parisa said. "It's all right. I want to be here when he arrives, that way, I can tell him that I know who he is, and that you told me who he is."
"If that's what you want, then I won't stop you." With that, Cortana's avatar winked out of existence, leaving Parisa alone in Chief's office. Sitting down in one of the nearby chairs, she continued to wait for him.
She was about to head back to her quarters when the door opened, revealing RDML John as he walked through the door. As soon as he spotted Parisa, his hand reflexively reached down towards his right hip, only for the Rear Admiral to turn it into a brushing motion as he realized he no longer had a gun. Taking a breath, he asked, "Lieutenant Colonel Parisa, why are you in here?"
"I wanted to talk with you, sir," Parisa said. "I wanted to see if we could have a private moment, John."
The moment she mentioned his name, Parisa noticed that John had stiffened. For a brief moment, his eyebrows twitched in surprise, then his face resumed its normal, neutral expression. His voice, however, was deathly calm as he asked, "How do you know my name?"
"Cortana told me," Parisa said. "When I was promoted to Lieutenant Colonel, I gained the security clearance needed to know about most aspects of the Spartan-II Program. I know that they replaced one of my friends with a flash clone that died due to a cascade metabolic failure. I know that they put six year old children through an augmentation process that killed a good portion of the candidates."
Standing up, she said, "I also know that my friend, who I thought was long dead and gone, is not only alive and well, but is standing before me right now. For a friend that I thought was dead, you look very handsome, John."
For Chief, it was an incredibly awkward moment. Not only had Parisa gained the clearance level needed to learn about the Spartan-II Program, she had figured out who he really was. On top of that, she had told him who had told her the truth. "Cortana?" he asked.
"I told her," Cortana admitted. "I told her the truth about the Spartan-II Program because I wanted her to have closure. Did you see that one file I sent to you about Parisa's psyche eval?"
Chief pressed his lips slightly. He had read about her psyche evaluation, especially after his disappearance when he was recruited into the Spartan-II Program. Deep depression and a few instances of attempted suicide before she cleaned up her act, he thought. Nodding, he said, "Yes. It wasn't too pleasant shortly after my… recruitment."
"Exactly," Cortana said. "I'll let you work it out with her right now. Let's just say that she had a few moments where she was beside herself once she learned the truth." Her holographic avatar winked out once again, leaving the two to themselves.
Looking at Parisa, Chief said, "I recognized you, when you came onboard the bridge of the Infinity during the coup. I was not certain if you had survived the war against the Covenant."
"I'm glad I did, though," Parisa said. "Otherwise, I would've never found out the truth for myself." Pacing about slightly, she said, "What they did to you was wrong, Chief. I understand why they did what they did, but it was still wrong. They should've tried another way, a different way. Why did they do this?"
"Dr. Halsey said that the only suitable candidates were at the age of six," Chief said. "It was the idea augmentation age for candidates of the Spartan-II Program. She had need of us, and we answered the call."
"How can you say that about her?!" Parisa asked. "She turned innocent little children into weapons of war! Don't you hate her for what you did?"
The question caught Chief off guard. There were times, he knew, where he wanted to hate Halsey for what she'd done. However, whenever those times came up, he found he could not do so. For one thing, Halsey had been their shield from some of the nastier members of ONI, who had wanted to cross even more ethical boundaries in the defense of Humanity. For another, she legitimately regretted doing what she had to do. When he had met her once more, he'd seen it in her eyes; the guilt, doubt and shame, all of it rolled up into a ball that continued to roll along, adding more emotions like anxiety to it.
At length, he finally said, "There are times where I wanted to hate her. I couldn't though. She was our protector. She was also… our mother figure. She kept us safe from some of the people in ONI. She also picked me as her favorite."
Hearing this, Parisa's anger deflated like a balloon. Even with all of the reports she had read, the things she had heard, she hadn't expected John to make the admission that he had. She also knew that John was right. Some of ONI's higher ranking officers wanted to go farther with the training, farther with the augmentations, farther with the brainwashing. Halsey, however, had stopped all of that.
Taking a breath, she said, "I… understand. I don't fault her for some of the things she did, but still, it wasn't right. There's also something else you have to remember."
"And that would be?" John asked.
"That you promised to marry me," Parisa said. "Remember, when you make a promise…"
"… I keep it," John finished. It was a promise that he had made long ago, before ONI had 'recruited' him, before the Covenant-UNSC War. That had been a long time ago, though, and he knew that war had a way of changing people. "I'm not certain I can keep that promise."
"Why?" Parisa asked.
"The war," John said. "It has a way of changing people, of changing their personality. I'm not sure if we would be able to -"
He was surprised when Parisa said, "John… stop. You know damn well that isn't completely true. Yes, you might be a Spartan-II and, yes, you might be Humanity's big damn hero, but you will always be my best friend, no matter what." Pulling out the photograph she kept with her, she handed it to John and said, "You proved that to me the day this photograph was taken."
John looked at the photograph silently. The moment he saw it, memories from long ago rushed into his mind. He remembered that moment, when he was walking along the bank, when he heard the scream for help. He remembered spotting a young girl that was drowning, her eyes wide with fear as she sank below the water. He remembered the cold shock as he plunged in after her, grabbing a hold of her arms before pulling her towards the shore, the sound of his heart beating like a snare drum as he pulled her to safety. He remembered when he said, "I'll always keep you safe, Parisa. I'll even marry you in order to keep you safe. I promise." He remembered when Parisa's father, a tall and stout man named Richmond, snapped the photograph of the two, remarking that they fit together quite well.
The fact that Parisa had kept that photograph of himself all that time indicated to him that Parisa's remembrance of him was more than just mere remembrance. The fact she kept this shows a level of dedication and hope that is clearly unique, a clinical part of his mind said. Besides, Cortana told Parisa this so that she could have closure. It wouldn't be nice if you refused her advances.
No, he decided to himself. It wouldn't be. Looking at Parisa, he said, "I remember that day, when I promised that I would marry you to keep you safe." Handing the photograph back to her, he said, "I'll have to think things over. In the meantime, I expect you to continue your duties with the utmost professionalism. Am I understood?"
Parisa nodded. "Yes, sir."
"Very good. Dismissed." Once Parisa was out of the door, John sat down and pinched the bridge of his nose. What had happened was something that Spartan training hadn't accounted for: a loved one finding out about the Spartan-II Program. I'll have to speak with Vice Admiral Cole about this, he thought to himself. I do not know how to handle something like this.
Cortana reappeared over the holo-table. "Well, that went well," she said. "I was expecting it to not go half as well as it did. You all right?"
Chief looked at Cortana. A part of him was irritated that she had gone ahead and shared that information with Parisa without his knowledge. Another part of him, though, countered that Parisa would've eventually found out anyways, and that Cortana had taken the least contentious route. Besides, that part of his mind said, Cortana did what she did because she wanted you to be happy, that part of his mind said. She wanted you to be safe. Is that too much of you to ask of her?
John sighed. Looking at Cortana, he said, "No, but thank you. I have to figure out how to handle this. I don't have the -"
"-training to take care of it," Cortana said. "Don't worry. I'm certain Halsey can help you there. She was once married, after all. I'll go ahead and inform her of what's going on, if that's all right with you."
"Granted," John said. As Cortana went to work, he noted that, ironically enough, it had actually felt good to hear it all from Parisa. What would come next was anyone's guess, though he knew one thing: as a Spartan, he would see it through, to the end.
. . .
Onboard another section of the Infinity, a pair of ONI agents were escorting another man along the hallways leading to the interrogation rooms. The man in question was tall, with tanned skin, brown hair and green eyes that were like emeralds. He had a fairly strong chin that defined his face, as well as a sharp nose.
For most people, though, going into the brig usually meant that they were in for a long time. For UNSC Army Major George King Glenn, it was a part of his job to interrogate prisoners that were inside of the brig. For the most part, that meant interrogating the Imperials, whom he had found to be boring after some time. Kept on prattling on about how the Empire was going to rescue them and make us all pay, he thought. We'll, they'd be rescued all right, and then the Empire would kill them for their incompetence. Reminds me of that one time from Earth's past.
Even so, things hadn't been the same once Ferdinand had been arrested and placed into the brig on charges of high treason and dereliction of duty. When he heard that Ferdinand had been arrested, he had requested that he be allowed to interrogate Ferdinand and find out more behind the motives that he had on attempting the coup. I'm the logical choice, he thought. Ferdinand and I used to be friends a while ago. Hell, we went to the same high school together.
It hadn't been particularly easy, though. The first time that he had begun interrogating Ferdinand, his fiancé had burst into the room and had begun aggressively interrogating Ferdinand, causing the man to verbally shut down and clam up. Took the two guards to pull her out of there, he remembered. You don't burst in on someone like that during an interrogation. Classic textbook example of what you shouldn't do.
After that, Ferdinand had started to open up, albeit rather slowly. Today, Glenn was hoping that Ferdinand was going to start opening up some more. He stopped his train of thought as they reached the door to the room that Ferdinand was inside. Opening the door, he moved past the chair that Ferdinand was sitting at and into the chair on the opposite side of the table.
As he sat down, he looked at Ferdinand for a moment. Ferdinand looked much different from when the coup had begun. The former ONI officer was now in an orange jumpsuit that had black numbers stenciled onto the front and back of said jumpsuit. While he was clean shaven and publicly presentable, it was the eyes that told Glenn that Ferdinand seemed… resigned. The man was meeting his gaze, but his expression was solemn.
For the next ten minutes, the two men sat there silently, each watching the other. Just when Ferdinand was about to speak, Glenn said, "You look like you need to get something off your chest."
Ferdinand nodded. "Yes. I do."
"All right." Leaning in more closely, Glenn asked, "Why did you attempt the coup against Captain Lasky? I know the official reason why, but I want the personal reason why, or is there no personal reason at all."
Ferdinand laughed bitterly, a low, deep sound that echoed in the room. "There was nothing personal about it all," he said. "Just business really. Lasky didn't do what ONI would've liked him to do, therefore he needed to be removed."
"And what do you think ONI would've had him do?"
"Simple, really," Ferdinand said. "Pretend to be a friend, while having agents begin infiltrating the Rebel Alliance to turn it towards our purposes. Against an enemy like the Empire, they would've been cannon fodder, something to keep us from sacrificing good UNSC personnel when war began."
"So you rebelled against ONI's standing orders not to harm Lasky due to the fact that Lasky didn't begin subverting the Rebel Alliance?"
"Yes," Ferdinand said. "That's precisely the reason."
"Then why did you threaten Melody? As an Envoy, she's the equivalent of a three star Admiral in the Navy."
"She was just in the way," Ferdinand said. "I was going to clear her out of the way. Besides, the UNSC might've built the vessel, but ONI was really the power behind the throne there. She would've been a… disruptive presence onboard the ship. What better way to deal with a disruptive influence than to terminate it?"
Glenn frowned. "So to you, Melody was nothing more than a nuisance to be crushed like an insect?"
"Basically."
The Army Major shook his head. Ferdinand had been behaving like this ever since his homeworld, Eridanus II, had been glassed by the Covenant. The incident was said to have made Ferdinand more driven, willful and forceful. He'd gone from someone that was nice to someone that was cold and hard. "I don't know if you were being an idiot, or if your reasoning was clouded from the very start in that regard," Glenn said. "Do you know what will happen to you now that the UNSC has arrived?"
"Of course I do," Ferdinand said. "I've been charged with high treason against the UNSC and UEG. There's no way out for me other than death, which is what I will be getting anyways. I'm already a dead man to the UNSC, not that it'll do them much good anyways. ONI always gets what it wants in the end, even if they have to stab someone in the back to do so."
Again, Glenn frowned. "I see," he said. "So, you tried to depose Lasky not just because he did not infiltrate the Rebel Alliance the way ONI wanted, but also because your prejudices against the Empire drove you to."
"What prejudices?" Ferdinand asked. "I don't have any against the Empire."
"Don't play dumb, Ferdinand. We both know that you hate dictatorships more than anyone else onboard the ship. Hell, we know of your dislike and hate of the Empire simply from the audio recordings that were taken from speakers on the bridge of the Infinity. "
Ferdinand shrugged. "So you got me there. Yeah, of course I hate the Empire. I hate any government that is not under the sway of the UEG, which is Humanity's rightful government. Any others are shams and lies that are to be crushed underfoot. If you disagree with me in that regard, then I don't know what else we can talk about. I've said my piece, and no one else can say otherwise."
"There is one other thing that I wanted from you, actually," Glenn said. Leaning back, he said, "I would like to have the access codes to the data vault that you have, specifically your tank designs. You were pretty big on all of that when you had the passion for it."
Ferdinand smiled. "Yes… that. I was really big on that, then I got shoehorned into being an ONI officer, same as you. If that's what you want, then go ahead. I gave up on that career path a long time ago. I find that, despite being shoehorned into the job, being an ONI spy suited me much better than being a tank commander. Go ahead and take my access codes from my computer, for all the good that it'll do you."
"Have you really given up?" Glenn asked Ferdinand. "Don't you care about Angela? She's the one person that still cares about you. Wouldn't you want to try and come clean for her?"
Again, Ferdinand shrugged. "I've dug my grave, Glenn. Now I have to lay down inside of it."
"Of course you would say that," Glenn said. "You've been so well trained to lie about it that you do it pathologically. You've abandoned all of your responsibilities and have become the very thing you hate. You've even abandoned your oath to Angela, who still wears the ring you gave her. The fact that she came into this room and yelled at you shows that she still cares. You could still turn this around."
Ferdinand laughed bitterly. "So you say," he said. "Still, I don't regret what I tried to do. I'll be proven right eventually. We'll speak again when the Empire invades our home galaxy and holds the UNSC hostage." He smirked even as the guards dragged him away.
Glenn frowned. Not this time, Ferdinand, he said to himself as he walked into the room behind the mirrored glass. Inside, he found Captain Dare waiting for him. "I take it you saw how it all went," he said.
"Yes," Dare said. "Even when he's been beaten, Ferdinand is an insufferable bastard. Tries to remove Lasky from his legitimate position onboard the Infinity, then acts as though we've done the wrong thing by imprisoning him. On top of that, he's smug and self-righteous. Was he always like that?"
"No," Glenn said. "Ferdinand used to be a much nicer guy, then Eridanus II was glassed. After that, he changed and not in a good way. He became stubborn, forceful and driven after that. If someone disagreed with him, he always said something that would shut that person up instantly."
"It sounds as though you hate him."
"I don't hate Ferdinand, ma'am," Glenn retorted. "I hate what the war against the Covenant turned him into: a monster willing to lie, cheat and murder his way to success. I just wish that we could show him the error of his ways. It feels like it was my fault in a way."
"Sometimes they do, but refuse to change," Dare said. "What happened wasn't your fault, nor was it ours. Ferdinand just chose to do this, even though he knew that doing so would end in his death." Sighing, she asked, "Did you gain access to his access codes for his data vault?"
Glenn nodded, then handed Dare a small slip of paper. "Ferdinand was always clever when it came to handing off information to other people. Out of all the ONI teams he ran, his was the most successful. They made constant use of dead drops and the like to transfer information, send orders and so on, so forth. It's shame, though, that he decided to do something this stupid and arrogant. He would've made for a fine intelligence officer. I guess some people can't get over the past and move on."
"I guess," Dare said. "Still, justice is being done, and the UNSC will be all the better for it. Once you've left to gain access to his information vault, I'll send a report to RDML Osman detailing the information we've retrieved from Ferdinand thus far. If she deems the information to be satisfactory, Ferdinand is going to be shipped off to Earth to await trial, after which he will be executed for his crimes. The trial is really just a formality at this point."
"Yeah. It really is." Noting the time, Glenn said, "I should probably get to getting the contents of his data vault now."
"You should," Dare said. "Dismissed."
. . .
On another part of the ship, Weapons Engineer Borodin was in the firing range, testing out a new rifle design that he had developed based on the Verpine Shatter Guns. The rest of his team were standing nearby, each one wearing safety glasses and earplugs for the duration of the test. Advancing into the firing booth, Borodin checked the weapon that was before him.
Aesthetically speaking, the weapon looked very similar to the MA5D series that the UNSC used as their standard issue rifle. Internally, however, it was a completely brand new system. Took us a while, but we finally managed to refine the technology, he thought. We've made ourselves a fully automatic railgun. Snapping the magazine into the weapon, he raised it to his cheek and, after taking aim, opened fire.
A loud RAKKA-TAKKA-TAKKA filled the air as the prototype weapon fired, sending 7.62mm projectiles flying down range at high speed. While there was a muzzle flash,it was nowhere near as pronounced as what the standard issue MA5D produced when fired. The recoil also felt softer than before, though that was likely due to improvements made in recoil compensation.
Holding down the trigger, he continued to fire until the weapon simply stopped. Did I have a malfunction?he wondered when it abruptly ceased firing. Checking his magazine, he was surprised to find that he'd fired all of the ammo inside of the magazine.
"Damn," he heard one of his colleagues, Enrique Alejandro, say. "I'm impressed. We really figured out how it worked, and we made it more durable. Now that's what I call a 'smashing success.'"
"Indeed," Borodin said. "If all goes well with the Ordinance Commission back at the Milky Way Galaxy, then we might have replaced gunpowder as a means of projectile acceleration, though the military will likely keep them around still in case something happens."
"Yep," Enrique said. "Should we consult with our friends in the Swords of Sangheilios when it comes to reverse-engineering the Disruptors. I heard that they might be on the verge of a breakthrough."
"I'll speak to them a little later on that," Borodin said. "Right now, I want to get the new designs that we've been testing out sent to the Ordinance Commission for testing. Continue working with our Sangheili counterparts on studying the disruptors. We'll need a breakthrough there if the armor engineers back home are going to create armor that can survive a direct hit from one of those."
While his colleagues went back to work, Borodin entered his office and quickly began a HoloCOM call. Within seconds, the holographic image of a man with green eyes, brown hair and dark skin appeared on the screen. "Lieutenant Stanley Harods here," came his reply. Seeing Borodin, he said, "Ah, Borodin. I had a feeling that you were going to call at some point. Is there something you need?"
"Yes," Borodin said. "I understand that you've been testing the new weapons I've designed ever since I cracked the technology behind blasters, correct?"
Yes," Stanley said. "The Ordinance Commission has been conducting rigorous tests on the designs that you sent to us around three weeks ago. So far, the designs appear to be holding up quite well to testing."
A sigh came from Borodin, the worry and concern building up inside of him fading away. "That's excellent news," he said. "You know the Ordinance Commission. When they receive a new design for testing, they test the hell out of the design until it falls apart. Still, I wouldn't want it any other way, especially if history is anything to tell by."
"Definitely," Stanley said. "I remember my history lessons in terms of weapons engineering. Remember the Mark. 14 Torpedo the United States designed before the Second World War? Now that was a failure in designing and bureaucracy if there ever was any."
"Yeah. The water depth sensor was next to the propellers, which caused it to have erroneous readings, the fuze for the warhead was too insensitive or sensitive depending on the location, and the tests used dummy warheads that were deliberately too light. Plus, they sealed the operating manual away in some damn vault where it was gathering dust. On top of that, the Ordinance Bureau tried to blame all the problems on the sailors using the torpedo, rather than actually going back to make sure it was actually tested properly. It ended up dragging Fleet Admiral Ernst King into the whole affair and resulted in Le. Only then was it finally fixed."
"Yeah," Stanley said. "A bureaucratic nightmare, one that ended up killing good men, men that didn't deserve to die. Makes me happy to know that the UNSC created the Ordinance Commission to prevent that from happening ever again."
"Agreed." After making a few more notes, Borodin said, "Also, I called because I wanted to send you a new list of designs that I've been making. You remember the information I sent you on the Verpine Shatter Guns?"
Stanley nodded. "Yeah. It's surprising to imagine that this galaxy developed projectile weapons that are, effectively speaking, a miniaturized version of the M99 Stanchion. The only thing that really gives us an edge is that their weapons are much more delicate in that regard, whereas ours are built to survive even the worst abuse." After a moment, he asked, "I take it that you're about to submit new designs based on the Verpine Shatter Guns?"
"Yes," Borodin said, "I've been able to study them for a good two months. My colleagues and I were finally able to crack the technology behind the Verpine Shatter Guns, and were able to make new designs based on them. This could finally make it to where we don't need gunpowder to fire projectiles. However, I'd imagine that the Ordinance Commission will likely recommend that we continue using and refining the older system in case something happens with the new one."
"Yes," Stanley said. "Railguns are good, but if a powerful enough EMP happens, then they're nothing but elaborate looking bricks. I'm certain, though, that with your new designs, they'll be adequately shielded from all EMPs, directed and otherwise. Still, as I've said before, you'll need to fill out all of the digital paperwork and send it to us, with the designs attached to that paperwork."
"Understood," Borodin said. "I filled out the paperwork this morning. Just have to send it to you now, along with the designs. The line is secure, I take it?"
"Yes," Stanley said. "Our HoloCOM call is encrypted. You'd need a few Smart AIs to crack it in any reasonable amount of time."
"Good. Sending the designs now." A few taps on the keyboard, and within milliseconds, the designs Borodin had created were whisked off to the Slipspace Buoy, before being rocketed over the two and a half million light year distance between Pantora and Earth. "Designs sent," Borodin said.
"And received," Stanley finished. "I'll send them up to the Ordinance Commission immediately. In the meantime, I'd suggest that you speak with Geras when you can. He seemed to be quite excited, especially when he sent me more designs for the Ordinance Bureau to test."
Borodin could only imagine what the cause of the excitement was about. "I see," he said. "I'll go ahead and speak with him. He and his Artisan-Engineer friends have been getting along with us quite famously. Take care, now."
"You too," Stanley said, with his hologram fading out of view a moment later. Getting up, Borodin quickly made his way to the second level for the Weapons Engineering sub-deck, which held yet another firing range and testing facility.
Here, however, the entire room was filled with Sangheili that were quietly working away at their stations, with UNSC personnel having discussions while working alongside them. The sight didn't cause any alarm for Borodin. As the Swords of Sangheilios were working with the UNSC in this endeavor, the Arbiter had requested that more Artisan-Engineers be sent onboard the Infinity to assist the UNSC in reverse-engineering the weapons and armor technology of the Galactic Empire. This request had been granted, and the Forgeships sent along had begun using their built-in Assembly Forges to help in the endeavor as well, while also helping the Swords of Sangheilios establish a base on Pantora.
It wasn't long before he found Geras standing next to another Sangheili. This new Sangheili was shorter than Geras was, and had a slightly slimmer shape as well. Hearing him walking inside, Geras turned around and said, "Greetings, Borodin. Is there something you need?"
"Yeah," Borodin said. "Stanley suggested that I speak with you about something." Noting the other Sangheili, he asked, "Who's this?"
"This is Xera 'Xhotum," Geras explained. "She is my mate."
Xera bowed slightly and extended a hand. "Greetings, Borodin," she said. "It is an honor to meet you."
"Likewise," Borodin said, shaking her hand. "So, what is it that you were so excited about?"
"With the help of your colleagues, we have finally managed to work out how the 'disruptors' work, and how to make them," Geras said. "Xera?"
"Of course," Xera said. "Observe, Borodin." Picking up what looked like a modified Zubo-pattern Beam Rifle, Xera quickly aimed it down range towards a target and pulled the trigger. There was a loud CRACK, followed by an electrical warble as a beam of blue-white energy zipped downrange and into the target.
Watching the target, Borodin watched as the target was promptly disintegrated, with the target turning into nothing but a small pile of ash. He whistled loudly. "Damn! Now that's what I call a disruptor!" he said. "How'd you manage to figure it out so quickly? Usually, Sangheili weapons development lags behind that of the UNSC, no offense intended."
"None taken," Xera said. "It is an excellent question. Normally, we would've taken longer than two monthly cycles to work out the design of the disruptors."
"However," Geras continued, "the disruptors that were developed by the Galactic Empire are much simpler internally than our own plasma weapons. This made it easier for us to reverse-engineer the design. The other reason was that we had your people on hand to lend assistance and new ideas."
"As a result," Xera finished, "we were able to reverse-engineer the technology behind disruptors. Your colleagues even worked out how to modify your blaster designs into disruptors without having to completely redesign those weapons from the inside out."
"I see," Borodin said. "Well, that'll definitely give us an advantage on the field of battle. Still… disruptors are nasty weapons. I saw what they did to those ODSTs during the rescue mission at Pantora." He shivered when he recalled seeing the images of the dead and injured ODSTs.
Geras and Xera laid a hand on each of his shoulders. "That they are," Xera softly agreed. "It made me angry when I saw that dishonorable pirate scum killing honorable soldiers. Personally speaking, I am glad to know that they have been punished accordingly."
"I agree," Geras said. "No soldier should have to die at the hand of such scum." Looking at Xera, he said, "We will have to return to more of our tests, Borodin. Shall we speak again at another time?"
"Certainly," Borodin said. "Take care, Geras."
"And you as well, Borodin."
. . .
A decidedly different atmosphere was present at the Senate Apartment Complex at Coruscant. Inside her bedroom, Leia was packing the last few dresses that she was going to be wearing for the occasion that she was going to be having soon. Gently folding the dresses she had, she quickly placed each one inside of cases and packs that her escort of Imperial guards were placing on trolleys and carts.
Outwardly, she appeared tranquil, but on the inside, she was nearly bursting at the seams with excitement. I am about to do something that no Imperial Ambassador has ever done before, she thought. I am going to be going to another galaxy to be speaking with the UNSC and UEG. The mere thought of that was nearly enough to cause her to go 'squee.'
Once she packed the last bag, she handed it to her escort and said, "That should be all of it."
"Good," her escort, a short, but stoutly built man named Gesar Jondor, said. "I didn't know that Ambassadors needed so many clothes for such an occasion. We might run out of room if things keep going as they are."
"Ah, no worries," Gesar's taller and thinner compatriot, Hondir Renich, shrugged. "We can always put some on another shuttle. Who knows? Maybe the UNSC ship that we're going to has more than enough room for our luggage. Might even make the trip go faster." The two men laughed heartily at the last remark.
Leia smiled. Of all of her Imperial 'escorts', she found that she liked Gesar and Hondir the most. Unlike her other escorts, who were all serious, somber and reserved, Gesar and Hondir were laid back, outgoing and cheerful, a result of their employment as assistants to diplomats. If my other escorts were cheerful like them, this would be even more exciting, she thought.
As they moved towards the lobby, Leia spotted her ambassadorial retinue. Nearly thirty people had gathered at the Senate Apartment Complex, which was being used as a meeting point for everyone making the journey to the Milky Way Galaxy. Economists, criminologisits, educators, all were waiting patiently for Leia to be ready. She also spotted her father, Bail, standing near one of the elevators. "Father," she said, giving him a gentle hug. "I thought you weren't going to be able to attend."
"I thought so too," Bail said. "However, the meetings I was in ended quickly enough to allow me to come and visit you." Brushing part of her hair, he said, "I just wanted to say good bye to you one more time, Leia. Going to another galaxy entirely is something that has never been done before. I'm worried about what might happen to you."
"I know," Leia said. "I'm well aware of the risks involved. However, I believe that I must do this in order to ensure peace between the Empire and the UNSC/UEG." What she didn't add was that she also intended to rally public support from the UEG for the Rebel Alliance. If all goes well there, we might have a formidable ally.
Bail smiled, having come to the same thought that Leia had. "I know," he said. "Perhaps I'm just an old man that's worrying far too much for his own good. Either way, I hope that you have a safe journey and an uneventful time at this brave new galaxy." Looking at the elevator, he asked, "Shall I accompany you to the embassy that the UNSC and UEG has?"
"Of course," Leia said with a smile. Before long, all of them were quickly moving out of the apartment and down the elevator that would take them to the landing pads for the repulsorlift craft that were waiting for them. Within a few minutes, two cargo skiffs, as well as several repulsorlift cars, were flying away from the Senate Apartment Complex and towards their destination. One had Leia and Bail, the others had all of the personnel that had been picked to head to the Milky Way Galaxy.
Looking to her left, Leia spotted their destination in short order. Standing tall in the area was the Fortena Tower, a tall, spire-like structure that resembled the Republica 500 in terms of aesthetics. Fortena Tower, however, had been given to the UNSC and UEG by the Empire to be their official embassy and consulate. Here, members of the UNSC and UEG were hard at work preparing to begin some of the finer details in ensuring peace between the UEG and Galactic Empire.
As they drew closer, Leia could see that the UNSC had already made it clear that this was their embassy. Near the front of the building, a pair of flags were gently swaying in the breeze. The first had the symbol of a planet that had a pair of golden fronds that encircled it; the other was the symbol of a an eagle, an animal from Earth, that had its wings outstretched, while a shield was in the foreground and a planet that had three stars on either side beneath it. Also in the foreground were the letters that form the acronym for the United Nations Space Command.
As they came in for a landing, Leia spotted the pair of guards that were at the front entrance of the building. As their airspeeder landed, a group of men exited the door and came to a stop once they were just a few feet away from the airspeeder. One of them advanced and said, "Welcome to the UEG/UNSC Embassy, Ambassador Organa. We were told to be expecting you today."
"Thank you," Leia said. "It's a privilege to be traveling to another galaxy." As she stepped out, she asked, "Does your ship have enough cargo space? I have a few things I'll be bringing with me. I'm also worried that we might not have enough room for my retinue as well."
"Of course," one of the men said. "The Egret Spaceliner-class can carry a copious amount of cargo if need be. We've also got enough capacity for around six hundred passengers, so no worries there. Shall we assist in loading that cargo onboard once we arrive at the Coruscant spaceport?"
"Of course," Leia said. As the men began moving her luggage towards the building, she turned one more time to Bail and said, "Good luck, father. I hope that your ventures go well."
"The same to you as well," Bail said. "Do what you can to ensure peace between the Empire and UEG." Leaning in closer, he whispered, "Do what you can to rally support for the Rebel Alliance. We will need the UNSC in the days to come."
"That I will," Leia said. "Goodbye, father." Both people hugged each other tightly, before parting from each other. Smiling one more time at her father, Leia turned and began following the men that were moving her luggage to the ship they were going to be using. Once they got into a Pelican, they quickly took off.
At the Coruscant Spaceport, Leia got her first look at the ship that they were going to be using to travel to another galaxy. The ship was quite long, with Leia noting that it was barely small enough to fit into the hangar it was assigned to. The rear had a pair of wings, as well as a tail that extended from the ship's stern. Five large cargo containers were present on the bottom, with the luggage being loaded into those cargo containers. A single ramp led up to the door that would permit them all to go inside.
As Leia approached, she watched an older man stepping down from the ship, the Captain she presumed. Her presumption was proven correct when the man said, "Welcome aboard the Dreamliner, Ambassador. I'm Captain James. I'll be the Captain for the duration of this journey."
"Pleased to meet you, Captain James," Leia said. "I must admit, the Dreamliner is a beautiful ship."
"That she is," James said. "I wouldn't want to pilot anything else, if you ask me. The men are loading on the last bit of cargo. Once that is done, we'll go ahead and take off. Some of my crew will also be getting you ready for cryonic suspension."
"Cryonic suspension?" Leia asked. "I thought UNSC ships could travel as fast as ships with hyperdrives."
"They do," James said. "However, the time it takes to go from our destination to the Milky Way Galaxy will take us around three weeks. To conserve resources, it is standard procedure for occupants of any UNSC ship to enter cryonic suspension. If you're worried, I'll have some of the crew help you get settled in. It's perfectly safe."
"That would be most helpful," Leia said as she came aboard. "Mind if I inspect the interior while we wait?"
"Not at all," James said with a smile. "Feel free to explore." Without further ado, Leia began to explore the interior of the Wu. The first deck, she noted, was quite spacious, with the deck having a number of creature comforts, from showers and a small kitchen, to what appeared to be an observation room. The deck below held what Leia guessed were likely cryo-tubes, as she could see hundreds of tall, cylindrical objects with transparent doors framed by solid metal. The are was already filled with men and women, most of whom were wearing body armor, the security retinue that the UNSC had insisted she accept. It was here that James found her looking around, with the Captain smiling. "So, what do you think?" he asked.
"I think it is a very interesting ship," Leia said. "I've never seen a ship quite like this one before in my life."
"And you probably won't for a long time," James said. "I came down here to inform you that the cargo's been fully loaded onboard. We're ready to take off at any time."
"Then please do," Leia said. "Mind if I come observe the launch?"
"Not at all."
Within a minute, Leia was standing at the back of the bridge. There were two chairs that were inside of the bridge, both for the pilot and co-pilot. A single bank of computer screens and controls were before the two chairs, while viewports allowed one to see outside of the ship.
Right now, James and his copilot, a woman named Anastasia, were manning the controls. Both people quickly went through the pre-flight checklist before contacting Coruscant Space Traffic Control. "Coruscant STC, this is Captain Reeves of the UEG Dreamliner. Requesting permission to take off. Over."
"UEG Dreamliner, this is Coruscant STC," came the reply. "Cleared for take-off. Follow the flight plan being relayed to your ship now."
Reeves, with utmost professionalism, quickly keyed in the flight plan. "Roger Coruscant STC. Cleared for take-off." Engaging the systems, he turned to Leia and said, "Here we go."
With a grace that belied its size, the Dreamliner lifted off from its flight pad and quickly began to ascend into the sky. The ship quickly powered through the atmosphere, with the ship quickly exiting atmosphere and entering the vacuum of space. Up ahead was the 30 warship strong fleet that would serve as their escort for the duration of their time in the Milky Way Galaxy. "We are clear of atmosphere," James reported. "I've reported to the Pantheon that we are go for Slipspace jump."
"Roger that. Coordinates locked in," Anastasia said.
"Engaging Slipspace Drive in three… two… one… now."
As soon as he said the words 'now', the ship's Slipspace Drive activated. Leia watched as a rupture into the black nothingness that was space opened, with the ship quickly flying into it. All around, the other UNSC ships entered Slipspace as well, beginning their journey back to their home galaxy. There was a slight rumble in the deck of the ship that quickly faded away, announcing their full immersion into the non-dimension that was Slipspace. Getting up from his seat, James said, "There we are. Textbook entry into Slipspace. Shall I escort you down to the cryo-bay?"
"Of course," Leia said. When they arrived, she found that pretty much everyone on the ship was entering the cryopods, with some members of the crew helping her retinue enter the pods. All of them had exchanged their normal uniforms for skintight suits.
One of them, a young man with black hair and pale skin, motioned for her to come over. "Here's your cryopod," he said. "Captain James ordered me to help you get into the pod safely. Before we do that, though, you'll need to dress in this suit." He quickly handed her the suit in question.
"Why?" Leia asked. "I'm not familiar with cryo-pods."
"Freezer burn," the man said. "If you go into the cryopods without form fitting clothes, you'll end up having blisters form in the areas where the clothes are at. The condition is also caused by the break-down of the pharmaceuticals used in cryonic suspension in the joints and muscles, including one known as Cytoprethaline, which we use to prevent ice crystal formation in the body. It's often described as a very painful pins-and-needles sensation. Modern medical technology, however, means that the new pharmaceuticals designed don't often cause freezer burn."
"I see," Leia said. From the sounds of it, cryonic suspension was not a very pleasant experience. Still, from what Captain Reeves had said, it was mandatory for journeys of that length. As such, she decided to grit her teeth. "Can you turn around, please?"
"Sure thing, ma'am," the man said. Turning around, he waited for her to get out of her dress, before slipping on her skintight suit. As she slipped it on, Leia noted that there were small gaps in the suit. When she tapped him and he turned around, she asked, "What are these?"
"That's for the catheters," the man said. "They'll administer pharmaceuticals and anything else that is necessary for your continued survival in cryonic suspension." Noting that she had put her suit on correctly, he said, "Well, ma'am. Time for you to step inside. See you on the other side."
Doing what she could to hide the shaking in her hands, Leia stepped into the cryopod. Once she was lying down on the angled bed inside, she watched as the door slid down, while small pinches indicated that the catheters were being pushed through her skin. Within a few minutes, she was starting to feel drowsy, while her veins felt cold. Before long, she could hear a whooshing sound as the cryopod went to work lowering the temperature inside below freezing. Within moments, Leia was unconscious, her mind blissfully entering the artificial sleep created by cryonic suspension.
. . .
A day later, in another part of the galaxy, Jyn was watching nervously as they flew down towards the surface of Lah'mu in a Pelican. Behind them, the Port Angeles floated in the vacuum of space, ready to aid them should the worst happen. Jyn's normal uniform had been replaced with the body armor used by the UNSC Marines. While bulky, she found the weight and bulk comforting, especially when she learned that it was capable of resisting multiple shots from military grade blasters.
There was little that the Marine BDU could do, though, against the memories that washed through her mind. She could remember when she lived here with her father when he escaped from the Empire. She remembered the times he would gently rock her back and forth after she experienced a nightmare. She could remember when her mother cooked food for them fresh from the garden at the homestead they used.
She let out a rattling sigh. I miss you, she thought, her mind going to memories of her father, Galen Erso. I wish you had survived, dad. I wonder what you would be thinking if you saw me now. Wherever you are, I hope you're looking down on me with a smile.
A hand settled onto her shoulder, prompting her to look at the Master Chief. Fully dressed in his MJÖLNIR Powered Armor, Chief towered over her by a good head and shoulders. Having sensed her anxiety, he asked, "Are you all right?"
Jyn nodded after a moment. "Y-yeah," she said. "Some memories is all." Looking at the planet as they entered the atmosphere, she said, "I remember when Krennic came and abducted my father when we were living here. I don't know what came of my mother. Saw Guerrera said she was dead, but I don't know for certain. We didn't stay long enough to find out."
Chief regarded her quietly. It was hard enough for Jyn to survive, even more so when she was a child. Deep down, he sympathized with her. He knew what it was like to lose someone close. "It'll be OK," he said. "You sure you want to do this?"
Jyn swallowed, then nodded. "Yes," she said. "If I don't do this, I'll never be able to look at myself in the mirror. I have to do this, even if it hurts."
Chief nodded, before turning and heading into the troop bay. He and Jyn weren't the only ones that were onboard the Pelican. All members of Blue Team were present, as well as Dr. Halsey. As part of the joint species operation, two Sangheili, N'tho and Usze, were present. As Chief came inside, Halsey asked, "How is she?"
"She's fine," Chief said. "She's continuing with the mission."
"She is a strong warrior to face an unpleasant moment of her past," N'tho said. "Few warriors have the strength to look at their past and face it with dignity."
"That she is," Halsey said. She herself had experience with that.
"So, what's the plan?" Fred asked.
"We'll move out and secure the area before we begin looking for any intelligence that Galen Erso might've left behind," Chief said. "N'tho, Usze, you will accompany Jyn Erso and Dr. Halsey while Blue Team secures the perimeter. Once we have, you will help them find anything that Galen might've left. Understood?"
N'tho and Usze both nodded. "It will be done," N'tho said.
"Yes, sir," Fred said.
"Right on time too," Linda said. "We're about to land."
"Coming in for a landing," the pilot reported. "Looks like there are a couple of structures down there, but I'm not seeing anything else. Setting her down." A few moments later, the Pelican shuddered as it landed. "We're good to go." The group of people quickly got up, with the door opening to reveal a beach far off in the distance. The ground beneath their feet was a dark brownish-black, with patches of green here and there.
Moving out of the Pelican, Blue Team quickly moved towards the structures that the pilot had spotted. Instead of any tall buildings, Chief spotted a pair of grayish-tan domes that were near the beginnings of what looked like mountains. Time and the weather had caused streaks of rust to appear on the domes, with rusted crates nearby. A mess of what appeared to be plants was growing nearby, though they looked neglected.
"Looks like subterranean structures," Kelly noted. "Chief?"
"Secure the area," Chief said. "Jyn, Hasley, stay close to N'tho and Usze."
"Got it," Jyn said.
As they moved, Chief keyed his COM. "RADM-117 to RDML Osman. We are on site. No sign of Imperial activity."
"Roger that," Osman said. "Kilo-Five is on standby should you have any trouble. We'll inform you if we detect any Imperial ships in the area. Over."
"Roger that," Chief said. "Blue Team, move out!"
As Blue Team moved to secure the perimeter, Jyn, Halsey and the others moved towards the structures. As they did so, Jyn spotted what appeared to be a lump of plants, as well as some dirt. Moving closer, her breath caught as she spotted bones in the mix, human bones. Within moments, tears were streaming down her cheeks as the awful realization hit home. "Jyn?" Halsey asked, hearing a sob from Jyn. "What's wrong?"
"It… it's my mother," she said, falling to her knees in front of the pile of bones, rotted clothes, dirt and plants. "She…" Wiping at her tears, she said, "Saw was right. She didn't make it. They… they killed her."
"Krennic's bodyguards?" Halsey asked.
Jyn nodded. "She shot at Krennic with a blaster. They killed her in retaliation." Hearing this, Halsey walked over and gently rubbed her shoulder.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"Don't be," Jyn said. "It happened a long time ago. You weren't here, so there's nothing for you to be sorry about." Taking a breath, she stood up and wiped her tears.
N'tho and Usze both approached the two. Realizing why Jyn was crying, N'tho bent down on a knee and began speaking in a language that Jyn didn't understand "A Sangheili Death Chant," Usze explained when Jyn gave him a questioning glance. "We speak it at a warrior's burial to honor their memories and their deeds. In times past, we also wished for the warrior's safe passage into the afterlife."
Jyn nodded. Reaching into her pack, she pulled out a small spade and began to dig a hole in the ground. Once it was at a suitable depth, she gently moved the pile that contained her mother's bones into the hole, before burying them. Halsey, gathering some stones, placed them in the shape of a cruciform over the dirt. Once the burial was complete, N'tho stood up. Placing a hand on Jyn's shoulder, he said, "Your mother was a good person, and a proud warrior, to have faced Krennic despite knowing she would die."
Jyn nodded. "She was," she said. Taking a breath, she looked around and said, "Come on. Let's see if dad left anything else here. We'll leave when we've checked the place." With a nod, the others began moving towards the two domes that were in the land. As they approached, Jyn opened up a panel, before hitting a single button. Despite years of neglect, the door into the subterranean building opened, permitting them inside.
Inside, Halsey noted that the interior was arranged in a circular format. Doors to hallways led to bedrooms, bathrooms and other facilities needed for comfortable living. The centerpiece was a large, circular room that had a sofa, a small table, a kitchen, as well as some small terrariums. Walking inside, they were greeted with the lights coming on, with one burning out moments later.
Jyn, walking inside, said, "It hasn't changed very much since that day." Taking a moment to look around, she said, "Dad's bedroom is over there. I'll check that area out. Halsey, you can search through my mother's. N'tho, can you help me?"
"Of course," N'tho said. Following Jyn, they walked into what appeared to be a small and cramped room that had a desk, a single bed, as well as a small holographic projector. The room was unchanged from when Krennic had come to take Galen Erso away from the place, with the two quickly beginning to look through it. Walking over to the bed, N'tho lifted the mattress, allowing Jyn to search underneath it.
"Nothing," she said. "He wouldn't hide anything in an obvious spot like that. Dad knew some really clever hiding places."
"Perhaps he would hide something beneath a reminder of his family," N'tho suggested. "My uncle, whom I later learned was my father, often did things like that, mostly for my amazement and his amusement."
As he said this, Jyn thought she spotted something. Wiping at what looked like a frame on the wall, she watched as a holographic image of her family came up. How strange, she thought as she looked at it. Why would my father be pointing at the camera? Unless… Following the holographic image of her father's finger, she noticed what seemed to be a section of wall. Walking over, she tapped it with her armored hand.
Immediately, she noticed something odd. While the wall sounded solid in some areas, she noticed that a certain area had a dull ring to it. "N'tho," she said. "I think I've found something here! This part of the wall's hollow. You think you can open it?"
In response, N'tho activated his Energy Sword. The twin bladed weapon's flashed to life, with both plasma blades casting a blue glow in the room. Maneuvering the blade towards the section of wall, he very gently began to cut along where Jyn had marked out the edges. The metal where cut glowed white-hot, with heat billowing off of the molten metal. Once he was finished cutting, he waited for the metal to cool down some more, before pulling with both arms.
There was a loud CLANG as the metal panel fell to the ground, revealing a small, hidden alcove. Jyn smiled. "Dad, you were one clever person. Looks like you were right, N'tho. He did hide something here after all."
"Then let us see what he hid," N'tho said.
Both people began to sift through what was in the alcove. Searching through one part, Jyn pulled out what appeared to be a hold-out blaster, as well as some pieces of flimsiplast. On the bottom, N'tho pulled out a few items, including what looked like a metal box of some kind. Looking it over, he realized that it was a data drive of some kind. Before long, the two had cleaned the entire alcove out. "That looks like a data drive," Jyn said.
"That it does," N'tho agreed. "Let's share this with the others."
Walking back into the living room, Jyn found Halsey and Usze waiting for her. "Anything?" Jyn asked.
"No," Halsey said. "The other rooms were disappointingly boring. I take it you had better luck?"
"Yep," Jyn said. "There was a hidden alcove in my father's bedroom. When we cut into it, we found a blaster, some flimsiplast, as well as a small data drive. It could hold something valuable inside."
"That it could," Halsey said. "At least our trip here was fruitful. I'll inform Chief that we've found what we needed. I believe that it is time to allow ghosts to have their rest."
"Agreed," Jyn said. They were about to leave when she said, "Also, there was a secret hiding place not far from here that we could examine."
"I see," Halsey said. "Chief?"
"We spotted it on sensors while we were coming down," Chief said. "Kelly's already investigated it. Nothing that can aid us in our mission."
"Understood," Halsey said. "Ready to leave the ghosts of the past behind?"
Jyn nodded. "I've been ready. Let's go."
. . .
The next day, Jyn was walking along the streets of Pantora City, her mind a whirlwind as she moved along the streets. After they had returned from Lah'mu, Halsey had taken the data drive to her lab for personal study, during which she recommended that Jyn get some shore leave. The walk also gave her the chance to see how Pantora was faring now that the UNSC had begun trading with them.
When she had last visited Pantora, Jyn had noted that there were food lines and rations for just about everything, from electricity to water, to even commodities like recaf. Now, however, she could see construction crews that were hard at work, as well as people that had smiles on their faces. While it would be a long time before economic prosperity returned to Pantora, it was clear that the entire system was well on its way towards that state.
Still, after everything that Jyn had seen, she needed a drink. Fortunately, she wasn't the only one that was heading to get a drink. Ever since the Infinity had been allowed to allow personnel to visit Pantora for shore leave, rules had been created to ensure that UNSC personnel wouldn't have any embarrassing incidents. For one thing, no member of the UNSC was permitted to travel alone. For another, they had to go to places that had been examined and approved by the UNSC.
As such, she wasn't alone. Two Sergeant Majors were accompanying her, the first being Sergeant Staker, while the other was one Lieutenant (Junior Grade) Olson. Both men had agreed to be her minders while they were on Pantora. Walking down the street, Stacker said, "There we are. That's a good bar to head to."
Jyn looked at the establishment in question. The Pantora Shantyhouse was one of the more reputable establishments in Pantora City. Well kept and well staffed, the place had a bar, as well as a restaurant that provided services to hundreds of Pantorans within the city. According to most UNSC personnel, it was one of the best bars in the entire city, hence why it was approved after a thorough inspection by the senior officers on the planet.
Walking inside, Jyn, Stacker and Olso entered the main barroom. The walls were a warm sandy color, with beams and pillars in the room being made of a dark brown wood. The counter was made of the same wood, while modern implements had been installed into it At chairs that dotted the L shaped room where UNSC Marines, members of the Swords of Sangheilios, as well as Pantorans that were out on the town for the night. There was a decidedly relaxed atmosphere in the room, with some people laughing, while others were in deep conversation, suffusing the room in a dull roar.
Approaching the bar, Jyn watched as a single Pantoran male with gold eyes and blond hair approached them. "Welcome to the Pantora Shantyhouse," he said with a smile. "What can I get you three today?"
Jyn scanned the holographic menu with a careful eye. There were some drinks on Pantora that were safe for humans to imbibe, while others were so strong that a single drink was enough to cause a person to pass out within minutes. After a few minutes, she said, "Three Highland Phoenixes, please."
"Sure," the bartender said. "Three Highland Phoenixes comin' up!"
As the bartender left to mix their drinks, Stacker looked at Jyn. "I've had one of those before," he said. "Reminds me of a Scotch that I had when I was visiting London back at Earth. It's a good drink."
"It is," Jyn agreed. Looking around, she said, "I wanted to thank you, Stacker."
"For what?" Stacker asked.
"For helping me with my training. You've been a really good teacher."
Stacker smiled. "You're welcome. Just doing what I can. Besides, if I didn't, Lasky would tear me a new one."
"That he would," Olson said in his husky voice. "I remember what happened to Ferdinand. You tore him a new one. I know, because I was with Parisa when she went onto the bridge of the Infinity. You know how to slug a man really good."
"Comes with being part of the Partisans," Jyn said.
As she said this, the bartender came back with their drinks. "Here you go," he said. "Three Highland Phoenixes, as ordered. Enjoy!"
Taking the drink, Jyn quickly downed the shot. The drink tasted like honeybutter and syrup, with the alcohol inside giving it a kick. "Cheers," she said.
"Cheers," Stacker and Olson said, toasting her before swallowing their drinks.
By the time evening had become night time, Jyn, Stacker and the others were moving towards a housing unit the UNSC had set up near the edge of the city. Woah, Jyn thought as she and Stacker swayed. I don't recall the Highland Phoenix being that strong. I think the bartender confused the two drinks. Still, she didn't mind. She had been desiring something strong.
Of all of the, Olson was handling the drink the best, partly due to the fact that he was a tall and stocky man. "Damn," he said with a hiccup. "I've never had a drink that strong. I thought they were weaker than that."
"Same here," Stacker slurred out. "That was… a little much." Hiccuping, he slowly said, "Still, maybe we can flag someone down to take us to the barracks."
"Yeah," Olson agreed. "Let's cut through this alley. It'll get us there faster." Turning to the right, they quickly proceeded into the alley before them. As they did so, Jyn thought she heard more than her, Stacker and Olson's footsteps.
Before she could ask what was going on, she felt a sharp jab in her neck, causing her to jump upwards after a second. At the same time, two heavy thudding sounds echoed, with both Stacker and Olson falling to the ground unconscious. Jyn had little time to realize what was going on before she fell unconscious. As she slumped to the ground, the three humans that had knocked Stacker and Olson out looked at each other before picking Jyn up. "Damn," one of them grunted. "She's heavier than she looks. Must've been the UNSC's doin'."
"Oh stop complaining," the other human said chidingly. "Only weight around here's in an idle tosspot's arms."
"Enough," the third human growled. "Just get her to the meeting point. Our boss wants her alive and well, and he wants the newcomers to be none the wiser. Off we go!" All three men soon left with Jyn, leaving Stacker and Olson lying on the ground with bruises forming on their heads.
. . .
Things were decidedly different on the planet of Lotho Minor, one of the junk worlds within the Galactic Empire. ONI Commander Edward Haines was already hating the planet, even though it was a literal treasure trove of technology. Why make an entire planet a literal garbage dump? he wondered. Wouldn't it make sense to simply recycle all of this junk into useful materials? He shook his head. I guess even people in another galaxy are too fucking lazy to clean up after their own mess.
The fact that it was raining only added to his dislike of the planet. A simple glance skyward revealed the muddy grayish-brown clouds that had completely covered the sky. Looking down revealed a haphazard maze of partially disassembled ships, ruined buildings, piles of junk and pools of tepid chemicals. Though invisible to the naked eye, the sensors that his HAZOP ODST armor had indicated that the atmosphere was heavily polluted, so much so, that even a single breath would have a person choking to death.
Edward wasn't the only one that was hating the planet. All around him, the eight man squad of ONI Agents and ODSTs were grumbling about the weather. "Why couldn't the galaxy clean up their own shit?" one of them, Jordan Hall, grumbled. "It's not as hard as it looks. Just clean up your mess before it gets this bad."
"Yeah," Denise, an ONI Agent, agreed. "I guess it's just because of how lazy they are. You know the old adage: out of sight, out of mind."
"Enough," Edward said. "Let's just recover any technology that'll be interesting for the eggheads to look at and head back." He took a step forwards to join his comrades.
As soon as he did, the metal plating beneath his feet, weakened by centuries of corrosion and age, finally gave way. Edward shouted as he fell into a crevasse, before contacting solid, unyielding metal two seconds later. Grunting as he landed, he shielded his head as more metal plating and wreckage fell down onto him. When the dust settled, he found that he'd fallen into a crevasse that was twice as tall as he was.
His team, hearing his shout, came over instantly. "Sir!" Jordan shouted. "Are you all right? Edward?!"
"I'm fine!" Edward shouted. "Just stepped onto a bad area!" Getting up, he brushed himself off and checked himself over. No injuries, he noted. Thank fortune for small favors. Looking at the walls, he said, 'I don't know if I can get myself out. Can you lower a short rope?"
"Sure!" Jordan shouted. "We'll get you some rope! Give us a minute!"
While Jordan and the others began pulling rope out of their packs, Edward took a moment to look around. The crevasse he was in was filled with junk, particularly old robots that were no longer usable. One robot that looked practically destroyed caught his attention. Walking over, he spotted what looked like its memory drive. Apparently, the destroyed chassis was more than willing to give up the object, as when he tugged, the memory drive came away freely. Pocketing it, he turned just in time to see some rope land near him.
As he clambered up the rope, Jordan asked, "You find anything down there?"
"Yeah," Edward said. "Found a memory drive from some robot down there. It was practically destroyed, but the drive was in relatively good condition. Might be something useful on it." Glancing down, he asked, "Y'all find anything else?"
"Other than a few interesting bits, no," Jordan said. "The entire planet has so much junk that we'll need entire teams to thoroughly search even a kilometers worth of this area."
"Understandable," Edward said. "We'll mark this place and recommend a permanent salvage operation here. Let's also grab that destroyed robot I found; it looks older than everything else around here. Beyond that. let's get the hell out of here. I'm already sick of this place."
'Amen to that," Jordan agreed.
