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Chapter 8
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Part 5
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3 AIF (After Imperial Founding)/
15.08.2552 UNSC Military Calendar/
Palace of the Republic
Coruscant
Coruscant System
Corcusca Galaxy
After two more ships returned to Coruscant, bringing back Senators, Satine decided it was time for decisive action. She ordered them all brought to the plaza in front of the Palace of the Republic, which to some extent was still a vital part of the government's apparatus, even if she didn't live or work from here like most Chancellors used to. The Empress avoided the place as a Chancellor, too, when she could. It symbolized a Republic she used to believe in and found the hard way, which had perhaps never existed.
Emergency services vehicles, military transports, and tens of thousands of civilians milled around, cordoned by Imperial Guards and two Regiments of soldiers. Climate control and ancient machinery did their best to clear the air and end the firestorms, making it possible to see the devastation wrought upon Galactic City through the theater shield that kept the complex intact.
The Empress stood on a quickly assembled podium, flanked by political allies and enemies alike, in a show of solidarity and barely restrained fury. Bail Organa mingled with people who his loyal opposition couldn't stand. In contrast, the Senators from Kuat and Corellia stood beside each other in yet another display that the ancient rivalry was potentially at its end. Padme spoke with Horus Yomaget's son, a visible reminder that the Mid-Rim Alliance and the Mandalorian Freehold stood together against the old order.
Thousands of Senators streamed in from hundreds of transports while two Star Destroyers hovered above them. Those ships were yet another reminder of what happened and that the Senate had to evacuate while under attack.
An aide used a feed to recon droids that hovered above the plaza to identify and count the Senators. He got Satine's attention and nodded at her, tapping a data pad he held. They had a quorum already.
Quickly, everyone on the podium assembled behind the Empress, and she began to speak. Camera droids from countless news agencies recorded the live performance. At the same time, civilians, still in shock after barely escaping death, stood as witnesses.
"My fellow representatives, yesterday is a day that shall live in infamy! An entity calling itself the Covenant attacked unprovoked Coruscant and assaulted the Senate itself! They murdered countless innocent civilians for a simple reason – some of us are humans. The Covenant is a theocratic state whose leadership has decreed that the extinction of humanity in their corner of the galaxy is the will of their gods," Satine's voice dripped with scorn and contempt. "This is nothing less than madness from the darkest day of our galaxy, brought back to life by murderous fanatics. Hundreds of millions of our citizens are dead! The Covenant murdered innocents living peaceful lives. We all can see the bleeding scars of Coruscant itself! I ask of you to declare war against the Covenant! A war we shall prosecute until they are no longer a threat to our citizens. A war to end their murderous ways once and for all!"
It was rare for this many Senators to cheer at her, Satine decided. The last time was on Imperial Day, which by design coincided with the celebrations over the end of the Clone Wars. Not everyone was glad that the Empire emerged from the ashes of the Republic. However, there were still fanatical few who didn't feel joy and relief that the Clone Wars were finally over.
After the publicity stunt, the Senators gathered in one of the largest chambers within the Palace of the Republic, which by design could act as an emergency Senate Chamber. Only a hundred odd Senators abstained from voting. Seven thousand five hundred and twelve Senators voted for the formal declaration of war against the Covenant, making it more than legal. Even if every missing Senator voted against it, they wouldn't have been able to change the outcome.
That was the easy part. Moving the Federal Government to a safer world loomed in Satine's future. Convincing the Senate to release more than the emergency funding the Empress now had to use for the war effort was another.
But first, she had other plans to put in motion.
"Padme, when the system on the other side of the portal is secure, and we are in contact with the UNSC's government. You will lead a diplomatic team to establish formal relations and a formal military alliance. Veil will handle the military portion of the equation. He'll be moving to the other side to hold the portal until we can muster a proper fleet to station out there and establish fixed defenses on both sides of the portal," Satine first corralled her friend and gave her marching orders. "Among other things, we will need to know what support the UNSC would need to take on the Covenant while we limit our naval deployment. From what I gather, they are technologically inferior to our mutual enemy, yet had survived against them for years. Find out how and why if Obi-Wan hasn't by the time he gets back."
Padme nodded and began talking with one of her aides.
Meanwhile, Satine's gaze locked on her next victim.
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3 AIF (After Imperial Founding)/
15.08.2552 UNSC Military Calendar/
Bridge
UNSC Leviathan
high orbit above Reach
Epsilon Eridiani System
Milky Way Galaxy
By now, Imperial ships transitioning in both directions through the portal were becoming a common enough occurrence that Vice Admiral Stanforth didn't get immediately informed about every transition. Cruisers with evacuating politicians and damaged ships left. At the same time, reinforcements, including more Imperial ground forces to aid in the ongoing capture operation, came in to replace them.
There was a slow growing in size squadron of wedge-shaped ships in orbit now. Only one of the pair that first made it after finishing off the Covenant fleet was still there. The smaller vessel, which had taken a beating, eventually returned through the portal, presumably for repairs and resupply.
Now, there were three of the large Imperial ships – about 1,700 meters long, four of the smaller ones at 900 meters, and a pair of sleeker ships just over a kilometer long that flew nested between the rest of the battle group. Carriers, Stanforth thought. They certainly lacked visible spinal guns to consider them long-range artillery ships.
Two squadrons of small fighters, at least compared to the large Longswords that still were the workhouse of the UNSC navy, flew as combat space patrol around the Imperial squadron. Their presence was reassuring, not something the UNSC crews would have ever believed alien ships in Reach's skies could invoke.
At this point, Stanforth was more interested in the ongoing Red Flag operation and the mopping-up operations ongoing all over the planet. Sixteen confirmed Covenant frigates were hovering above significant population centers. They wisely didn't fire at the cities and towns below them and only shot at UNSC ground troops in support of their own. The Vice Admiral had to dispatch most of his remaining fleet to keep an eye on those Covenant escorts. Left untended, they could still cause catastrophic damage. At the same time, shooting them down above cities yet to fully evacuate with MACs wasn't ideal either. As long as the Covenant commanders were restricting themselves from slaughtering civilians, they were at a stalemate.
That was going to change relatively soon – Longsword squadrons were assembling to deliver overwhelming strikes at the frigates and ideally drive them away from population centers, so the UNSC ships in orbit could shoot them without fearing too much collateral damage.
There were Covenant incursions in hundreds of places still. In many cases, the fanatics decided to go out in a blaze of glory, killing as many people as possible. As concerning, if for other reasons, were the smarter and saner alien commanders. In places, they were pulling their troops back, or as many of them as they could feasibly afford to, and doing their best to vanish in the wilderness. Stanforth wasn't the only one to suspect that there were still undiscovered cloaked bases the Covenant were retreating toward to await reinforcements.
As the highest-ranked UNSC officer in contact after the Covenant took out High Command's complex on Reach, Stanforth found himself busy coordinating defensive efforts across the system. The aliens weren't making his job more manageable. They still had more ships in Epsilon Eridiani, which until recently, were busy hunting down shipping or going after industrial targets. It was a small blessing that now they were busy concentrating their forces, which were insufficient to take on the UNSC presence as long as they could pull back to the cover of the Super MACs or the Imperials.
For now, Reach would hold. This meant more UNSC reinforcements might make it, and the Imperials would have time to mobilize and hopefully deploy more assets.
Stanforth didn't know it, however, he was bout to get one of those hopes fulfilled.
"Admiral, we've got major movement at the portal," the Flag Lieutenant at the sensor station announced.
"We also have a call from the Emperor, sir!" An ensign informed him. Her sole job right now was supervising a communication device left behind by Knight Skywalker.
"Give it here, Ensign," Stanforth requested. "What are our guests doing?"
"Two more ships are slowly moving away from the Senate building and towards the portal. We also have incoming ships from the other side, so far escorts and one of their small destroyers, Victory-class?"
Stanforth wasn't sure if the harried Lieutenant had made a statement or was asking for confirmation about the ship's class. He took the offered disk-shaped device and pressed the button to accept the incoming call.
A tiny hologram of the Emperor formed above the Admiral's palm.
"Admiral Stanforth, I've got news for you. It's time for me to return home and pick up the pieces," Kenobi spoke, and a synthesized voice the Admiral couldn't see translated. "I just got a message that my wife managed to coral enough Senators to get a successful vote on a formal declaration of war against the Covenant. In that regard, a Star Dreadnought and her escorts are transitioning as we speak. General Veil will be in operational command over the Imperial forces and assets on this side of the portal for the time being. Be advised he is also a head of a member state within the Federated Empire. Veil has limited ability to speak diplomatically for the Empire and can make deals for the Mandalorian Freehold. He will be in contact with you shortly."
The connection cut off, and Kenobi's form fell apart in moths of light. Stanforth looked at the camera image of the portal to see one of the ships that almost certainly had the Emperor on board ponderously accelerate towards the portal. Within moments, its nose slid into it as if plunging into a pool of silver.
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Part 6
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3 AIF (After Imperial Founding)/
15.08.2552 UNSC Military Calendar/
CSO Long Night of Solace
Reach
Epsilon Eridiani System
Milky Way Galaxy
They were in storage space a few hundred meters away from the reactors. The Covenant threw bodies at them with extreme desperation, replacing losses almost as fast as they could kill them. Still, the allied forces advanced bloody meter by bloody meter. Hunters, Brutes, and Elites waited for them behind a semi-circular barricade made of heavier-than-standard Covenant supply containers. Turrets and assorted heavy weapons should have made breaching the place through the single entrance they had a suicide.
Skywalker and the four-armed Pong Krell changed the equation again. They managed to weather the murderous firepower for just long enough to allow Imperials in heavy armor, carrying the biggest weapons they could, to charge into the open. The Spartans followed them and wasted no time to begin killing Covenant.
Here, finally, their luck ran out. Deflected spikes and clouds of needler shards exploded all over the place. Linda's shields burned when a redirected Hunter shot hit a soldier beside her, showering her with plasma and boiled metal. She kept moving and shooting, yet even Spartan reflexes couldn't help you when there was nowhere to go to avoid the incoming firepower. The Imperials weren't even trying. They advanced grimly, determined to kill the Covenant before the Covenant could kill them.
An overcharged shot from a plasma pistol homed on Linda and struck her in the neck just as her shields came online again. Superheated gas burst over the flexible underlayer of her suit, burning through it and searing the flesh below. Linda fell with a choked hiss, clutching her burning throat.
Medics were nearby, waiting for the assault parties to make the area survivable for triage. All John could do was weave around as much incoming firepower as he could and make every shot he had count. Desperate anger and fear for his friend drove him to the limit of his enhancements, yet it wasn't enough. For every Covenant he shot, another emerged to take its place! Imperial soldiers fell, even their incredibly tough armor failing after tanking too much firepower.
Another Spartan went down, one of…
Reality broke down. John could see and hear. He could feel beyond his body. His mind touched those of friends and colleagues he had grown up with, trained with, and fought beside for years. There were countless alien, unfamiliar minds, all bound by a pulsing web of frozen darkness, united in a singular purpose. John could sense something at the center of those strings.
A figure stood there, shrouded in darkness and standing upon a throne carved from a black, dead star. Molten metal blazed from where its eyes were supposed to be. Murderous anticipation stabbed in John's very soul.
Time moved sluggishly, with the familiar crystal clarity allowed by adrenaline and his enhancements synchronizing to speed up his perception, making it appear that the world moved in slow motion.
Master Chief knew where every single Spartan was. He could sense them as if they were extensions of his own body. This was far beyond what the endless hours of training and years of fighting as a team allowed. Simultaneously, the same was true for every allied soldier in the vicinity.
He, no, they all knew what every single part of the collective organism that was the allied army would do at any moment. Most importantly, they knew what every enemy was about to do before they did it. Spartans and Imperial alike moved between the rain of firepower coming at them with impossible coordination.
As if all that wasn't enough, the Covenant finally faltered. The incoming fire suddenly slacked, becoming less and less effective with every passing moment. Imperials still fell, too sluggish to avoid the last vestiges of the enemy's onslaught. Kelly crumbled with her leg shot off at the knee, yet instead of dying, she managed to roll away from the last shots to come her way.
John shot a slack-jawed Elite between the eyes, and suddenly, there was no more Covenant moving in to replace the death. He sprinted forward, racing alongside Spartans and Imperial Knights to take the enemy's position. Behind them, medics finally ran to tend to the wounded.
Master Chief jumped over the crates and opened fire at Covenant Brutes he knew milled in confusion behind them. Grunts ran in panic while Elites moved ponderously as if the weight of the whole galaxy pressed down on their shoulders. Now and then, a Covenant warrior shot at them, barely trying to aim.
Fred dropped his empty rifle and drew a pistol, shooting from the hip yet hitting targets without even trying. Hundreds of Covenant warriors died, while others broke and tried to run. In places, Elites and Brutes alike just stood, mumbling to themselves. They died as fast as the rest.
All over the carrier, Covenant resistance collapsed at the same time. John knew this. He could perceive it somehow in the back of his head. In countless corridors, Imperial soldiers and UNSC marines pushed through Covenant forces that had no fight left in them whatsoever. There was no more coordination within the enemy's ranks. No reinforcements came to plug breaches in the defensive lines. No counter-attacks tried to blunt the allied progress.
Not a single ambush materialized as they pushed closer and closer to their objectives.
John didn't even hear Cortana's distant voice. He knew where everyone in the combined military was going. He knew what his objective was. They all knew it and acted accordingly like a well-oiled machine.
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Rho'Barutamee staggered. The world tilted, falling from under his feet. He knew without a shadow of a doubt that the Gods themselves looked down upon him with disgust. He had failed them! It was his fault that Heretics profaned relics on multiple worlds! They were blaspheming in the heart of his ship! There would be no salvation for the likes of him or his crew! They were all damned in the eyes of the Forerunners, who averted their merciful gaze off them. The Great Journey was denied to them.
The sheer weight of despair, of comprehending the depth of his failure, brought Rho'Barutamee to his knee. The knowledge that he doomed his crew and the whole fleet's worth of faithful ravaged his mind. All around him, the faithful understood the depth of their failure and damnation. Some screamed, and others prayed or ran to hide from a shame they couldn't live to bear.
None of them deemed him worthy of killing for his failure. Rho'Barutamee was alone, all alone with his damnation, and the Heretics were coming for him. That was indeed fitting. To be judged by those damned souls he failed to purge in the name of the Gods? He surely didn't deserve a clear, honorable death. Such wasn't fit for the likes of him!