"Otto, where are you?" Private Nicolaos Grivas sang out once again, enjoying the deep echo of his voice across the desolate underground hallway of the firebase. He'd stopped taking the search seriously the moment he and private Julian Castana were out of sight from anyone who outranked them. One look at the hall ahead validated his decision. Running at low power as Alpha base was, the area beyond the firebase itself had but one out of every 4 lights running, making only the clouds of dust accumulated over 20 years easily discernible. If Zeitzler desired to stay hidden, he was staying hidden, and only the entirety of First Platoon searching with NVGs stood a chance of having a say.
This was just the latest extended slight against Grivas, and judging by the heavy steps next to him, Castana was on the verge of taking this personally too. August 3rd 2552 had been the day everything took a turn for the worst. He'd been standing at parade rest for the commissioning ceremony of a newly-created UNSC Army division and his first assignment after boot camp: the 130th Motorized. Formed entirely of recruits from the colony of Neu Ruhr, the division was intended to be transferred to Reach pending further redeployment. That was until their commanding General's speech had abruptly shifted with the announcement that they were going to be facing the Covenant much earlier than expected. A large Covenant Fleet had appeared out of slipspace smack dab in the middle of the Frisia system, the mere sight of it causing their local defense fleet to bug out. The Covies took the opportunity to dump their ground troops on several major industrial centers, though their bombardment of the planet was strangely lenient. Advancing under harrowing Banshee attacks, the 130th division was sent charging into a paper shredder trying to retake the nearby city of Vieng Chan. After a month of painful urban fighting, Grivas and the rest of the 130th learned the horrifying truth: the Covenant attack on their home was just a diversionary operation taking place alongside a massive invasion of Reach, and by then, the invasion was all but wrapped up. While the local defense fleet found its nerve and kicked the Covenant fleet out in early September, the ground forces clung to their ill-gotten gains for another few weeks, all of which the ragged 130th spent digging them out.
When the last of the Covenant holdouts were dealt with, the 130th division was given some much needed R&R in San Antonio. Not San Antonio on Neu Ruhr, though, the original city in old Texas on Earth! With Reach gone, the UNSC undertook a large-scale extraction of spare units in the remaining Inner Colonies to shore up their last line of defense, and so the 130th had been embarked piecemeal on a mix of frigates and freighters with barely any explanation until their arrival. Worse, they'd only had a week to prepare before the first Covenant fleet carved a hole through the Orbital defense grid and hit new Mombasa. The rest of October and November were still a smudge in Grivas' mind: charging up and down the Rio Grande squashing landing sites, defending San Antonio, hiding out in Eagle Pass while the Covenant army tore itself to shreds around them, almost shelling the Elite envoy sent to explain the situation. A few days later, the 130th was once again back to digging out Covenant holdouts (the rebel Elites being of minimal help outside of air and artillery support, but everyone was too tired to argue).
On August 3rd, the 130th Motorized division consisted of around 17,000 soldiers, thousands of trucks, hundreds of artillery pieces, and 200 Scorpion tanks. By December 11th, while Master Chief, Forward Unto Dawn and an Elite opposition fleet were crushing the Covenant on The Ark, the division had 3400 troops fit for action, 11 warthogs, 20 trucks, 13 Scorpions, 43 looted Covenant vehicles, no artillery, and a half-dozen 600 year-old APCs taken from an old US Army museum. Everyone was tired, down several friends, and wanted to go home. When Grivas' old company was folded into another one led by Captain Esko Junnila, he assumed it was just a formality as part of the transferring procedure.
Then the ONI liaison showed up.
Most of the 130th was back home on Neu Ruhr right now, Grivas lamented while checking a janitor's closet. ONI hadn't tried to rope the whole remnant into their schemes, there certainly would've been a mutiny. But siphon off just over 100 guys and leave the rest to think "better them than us"? That was more like them. One mirage-like R&R later, the company was packed like sardines on a UNSC Prowler and belatedly briefed on their mission.
Harvest. He still couldn't believe that he was here, where humanity's escapade to the stars had gone horribly wrong. Nor had he believed there was anything left worth visiting there back on the Prowler. As the Smart AI onboard had explained, though, the Covenant gave Artifacts belonging to the Forerunners a wide berth, the safe zone in this case containing the site of the final decisive battle for Harvest in the Northern Polar region of the world. With the decrepit Alpha Base as their home, the Army Company would be keeping watch over the Forerunner Relic, reinforced by a Marine platoon from the Prowler's own complement camped out in the structure itself. The only problem? A worrisome vagueness about how long this isolated assignment would last. Grivas was no fool, he knew ONI wanted something from that relic, as the presence of their own team and another AI back on the Prowler had indicated. But the fact that he and his fellow soldiers weren't privy to what gave him concerns, particularly regarding what they would be risking to get that "something".
Grivas wouldn't deny the surface-level logic of ONI's choice. The UNSC military was a husk of its former self. As they'd been repeatedly informed, this operation would've been the responsibility of an all-marine task force if there weren't so few marines to spare. If they weren't guarding colonies still in precarious straits, they were training their future squadmates from among the many, many refugees in earth's orbit. As the Intel twerp had redundantly reminded them, the 130th division's service record was among the best in the regular Army after just 4 months of intense combat. They were not, he insisted, regarded as expendable, but dependable.
On the other hand, their Prowler hadn't enough dropships to offload the whole force in one go, but it did have enough to extract an ONI team and their marines in the event of an emergency…
Grivas scoffed at the thought, seeing Castana barely flinch. No doubt the two were brooding on similar wavelengths, he decided, storming over to the large metal door that marked their destination.
The main consolation (or rationalization, Grivas darkly noted), was that Zeitzler's potential hiding spots weren't as limitless as the base's size made them seem. The guards posted outside the reactor hadn't spotted him, the 2 supply pads were stripped of anything valuable, and the vehicle depot had been sealed shut when they arrived. That left the barracks, which wasn't locked off but also not needed. The firebase proper was more than big enough for 107 soldiers to encamp within. So it was that during the headcount before dinner, one man not on patrol was nowhere to be found: private Otto Zeitzler. This man was in Lieutenant Garrel Niecker's 1st platoon, who'd delegated it to Sergeant Klarice Greisch's 1st squad, who'd delegated it again to Corporal Son Matak's fireteam, and so Grivas and Castana were now stumbling through the darkened basement two level below the barracks itself. The modular foundation of Alpha base contained five such underground sections by which additional structures could slide onto. This one in particular was littered with old equipment crates and cases all across its poorly-lit, skeletal interior. Not a welcoming sight, but if it meant not having to use the topside entrance, he wouldn't complain.
"What happened here?" Castana asked, a flippant thought said aloud.
"The guys from Spirit probably didn't have time to clean everything up." From what Grivas recalled of the briefing, the recaptured Alpha base had needed the rest of the day to be put in working order back in 2531, followed immediately by a series of rapid assaults led by one Sergeant Forge on the poorly-guarded rear areas of the Covenant defenders. After a series of sharp firefights inside the relic itself, the Spirit of Fire had scooped up all her ground forces and took off for Arcadia to parts unknown without warning. The ONI guys' explanation? "That's classified."
The pair weaved their way past upturned crates deeper into the basement. "Otto, did you trip on a box and break your neck down here? Moan once for yes, twice for no." Grivas shouted. No answer.
"Dinner's getting cold, Zeitzler." Castana added.
Something dove out from a stack of crates they'd just passed. Grivas whirled about, raising his flashlight like a club.
A ghostly figure in sleek white armor sprang to his feet before the pair. Orange ballistic glasses glimmered in the dim light.
"Boo!"
"What the-"
Castana had his M6H pistol out of its holster with flashlight activated and trained on the newcomer in one swift motion. The featureless, sleek armor plating, quite unlike the blocky gear worn by the Army, was instantly recognizable from the archival photos on Harvest Grivas had seen during the briefing. But the man himself…
"Hey hey hey slow down man, it's me!" The desperate voice was instantly recognizable despite being muffled by a balaclava.
"Otto, what the hell." Grivas sighed.
"Call it foraging for useful equipment, I guess," Zeitzler shrugged. "There's nothing to do here now that the power's back up! The Captain will have us inventory all the leftover supplies here sooner or later, I'm only getting a head start."
"By playing dress-up?"
"Just testing this old gear out, it works pretty well. Very, what's the word, ergonomic? Feels pretty solid too," he rapped a knuckle on the chest plate.
"Not sure how this is more important than chow time," Castana replied.
"Bear with me, I'm just getting started. There's so much stuff left behind, I found 4 different types of BDU kits in here! And the guns, you have to get a look at all the guns the Spirit of Fire guys forgot. I found, get ready for this…"
"Otto…" Grivas started.
"Nick, I found a crate of Flamethrowers! Are you familiar with the Hellbringer units? They were all but disbanded by the Marines back in 2535, and of course you can't sell Flamethrowers at the surplus store. But they're here! Now if we could just find some old Hellbringer armor…"
"Otto, you do realize the Sarge is gonna kill you if she learns that you've been goofing off in marine gear for the past 4 hours." Grivas cut in.
"Now that's just the barracks. Remember how the Vehicle depot is locked off? If that was the least the Spirit guys could do before they left, just imagine what kind of treasures must be hiding there!"
"Kill is such a strong word, don't you think?"
The trio froze at the sound of a melodic voice ringing out from the doorway. Grivas wasn't fooled by the playful tone, knowing full well that the speaker must've shadowed them for over an hour, and she meant business.
Sure enough, Sergeant Greisch was not smiling when she slid into view from behind a mound of crates. Blue eyes flickered between the three men in the meager light.
"Do you still think of me as someone who would just…kill…one of mein kinder like that?"
Zeitzler started murmuring something in reply, still facing the other two.
"I'll get to you!" Grivas winced as the shout resounded sharply inside the basement. He watched Greisch's chilly gaze fall upon Castana once again. Like several instances before, he no longer felt a year older than the 24 year-old woman. For while he'd been swept up in the draft after completing his studies at Solingen University, Klarice had been one of several inhabitants with prior service called up to staff the 130th division, serving at Skopje, Algolis, and finally Ballast. She never talked about those days, just mentioning that she'd been there whenever some familiar encounter played out before her.
Castana twitched. "I was being hyperbolic…ma'am…"
"Killing is no joke, Julian, especially killing one of your own," Greisch crossed her arms.
"Now, Otto, look at me."
Zeitzler about-faced in a blink.
Greisch pointed towards her chest, and Grivas belatedly noted she was now wearing her body armor.
"Does this uniform repulse you, Otto?"
"I don't follow…"
"Do you feel the need to escape people like me, or Julian, or Nick, for some reason? To dress up like those self-righteous excuses for infantry and pretend it's 2531, and you're going to help liberate Harvest?"
The younger man gave a quivering shrug, "I'm just looking for useful equipment…"
"You don't have to skip dinner to do that, do you?"
"I lost track of the time, ma'am." The confidence in his voice made Grivas think that Zeitzler was telling the truth there, at least.
Greisch watched Zeitzler for several imperceptible seconds, eyes focused in the same manner Grivas had seen of her when she was confronted by a dilemma on the battlefield.
"Alright, I believe you. Or I will…" Greisch turned away, strolled over to a nearby open crate, and retrieved something. "Once you come back with us and eat your words." She held out a large box for Zeitzler to take. The private obliged, examining the label.
"UNSC Marine MREs…" he murmured, "Issued…January 31st…Twenty-Five Fifteen!?" Zietzler's gaze snapped back up to the sergeant. "But these are almost 40 years old."
Greisch's expression was still unreadable, practically a thousand-yard stare. "If they could keep for 16 years, what's another 22 on top of that? Don't you want to prove there's something of value here? Or we'll hold your meal for today, and I can leave you here to your own devices, safely out of sight from myself, and Nickolaos, and Julian…but also Ernst, Klaus, Chen…"
Zeitzler's form stiffened as he realized where Greisch was going, because Grivas himself hadn't heard those names in a long time.
"Jon, Oleksiy…"
"Sarge…"
"Barbara…" She said the last name almost imperceptibly more slowly, oblivious to how the taller man withered before her.
"I'll eat it," Zeitzler sighed.
"Wunderbar!" Greisch's face beamed and she clapped her hands together, "Just make sure to get changed, and keep in mind…" she skipped past Zeitzler to grab Grivas and Castana by the shoulders, still speaking in her upbeat voice, "You don't have to miss them without us."