Huerta Memorial Hospital
Aboard Citadel Station
2557 Military Calendar, August 30th, 11:43
The room apparently had noise-mufflers. It wasn't simply thick walls and glass. It had something to do with Eezo traces that run along the pipes. Every time a sky car passes by, it leaves a faint echo. Its gentle wake blended with the soft-spoken intercom announcements and the distant conversations. He thought it provided a small measure of comfort… a strange and familiar warmth.
Most of the walls of the room were made of glass. The window filtered in only a dark blue light. Outside he could see the river, with the shopping and apartment complexes that lined up along the banks. The Presidium was quiet, untouched by war.
He felt relaxed… or perhaps it was the painkillers.
Captain Florence was healing. The last few weeks had been torturous; physically painful and painfully boring. Leaning on the edge of the bed… he was finally able to wear something besides the stupid hospital garments. He wore a simple grey shirt with 'Navy' in black lettering across his chest and blue civvie shorts.
In the past few weeks the UNSC Navy had repositioned itself for war. A mass deployment to the next destination in this theater, and he was left behind. Battle Group Dakota had left a few days ago, along with a group of fleet logistic ships and a combination of troop transports and docking ships; all designed to carry large amounts of Army personnel from one planet to another.
It was an invasion force. An offensive. 'Christ, that hadn't been in the UNSCDF's vocabulary since the beginning of the fucking Great War.' Florence's thoughts swirled with disbelief. 'Those mass infantry transports had to be decades old…'
He may be out of the UNSC information chain, but he was still able to access the Citadel News Network. Turning it on, Florence watched the same talking heads 'reporting' on the latest breaking news. Nearly every network was on stand down to broadcast the counteroffensive on Palaven.
"Hello, my name is Diana Allers and welcome to the Battlespace….". In the background were metal walls and a mess of boxes. Every once in a while, what looked like a Quarian would pass by. The UNSC certainly wouldn't agree to host any new reporters aboard their ships.
According to the UNSC timeline (available only to O-5 and above), the invasion had already begun eight hours ago. This was all pre-recorded. But there was no indication. No time stamp. Hell, people on the Citadel might've thought they were watching it live. Or… it could possibly be in fact live. Depending on the gravitational differences in these sections of the galaxy, there could be a large time disparity.
There was a knock on the door. It opened. An Asari nurse walked in.
"Captain…" Acknowledging him. she went over to the table on the far side of the room to look at his medical charts and report.
Supposedly, no one could see through the glass walls, but Mark could see through them. Outside was the waiting room. Everyone seemed to be crowded around various holo-TVs. Each was on a different news channel. Each with a different reporter on a different aspect of the incoming invasion. Some were embedded on Quarian or Geth ships, others were already on the frontlines with the Turians and the Krogan. Most were at home.
"I'm sorry you have to miss it…" The Asari said as she lit her Omni-Tool and began to press away "...Or maybe not?"
Mark only grunted. Three weeks ago, Captain Lasky decided to move Captain Florence to this station-side hospital after he was finally deemed non-critical. For his first couple of days here, the apparent noise dampeners made it seem less chaotic than it really was. Patients waited outside the halls or were crammed into rooms. And if it weren't for the dampeners, he'd imagine he would hear all the screaming and crying.
But, Mark got his own room with two Spartan guards at the entrance, screening everyone who enters. Oh, lucky him.
Around a week later, the UNSC Hopeful had arrived to provide support to the Citadel hospitals. In an act of good faith in the eyes of the public, the UNSC has agreed to take on as many casualties as they could. While xeno medical knowledge was currently limited, they were doing the best they could. Even if they could only take Human casualties, it did certainly lighten the load.
"A few of the patients here are from the Palaven front...they wanted me to pass on their gratitude." She walked over to the IV band around his arm and synched her Omni-Tool with it… he felt the band tighten. Mark didn't feel any different, as he gazed at the doctor. She looked like every other Asari here. Dressed in a red and white lab coat with purple tattoos across her face, they looked way too human.
Soon, he felt even more relaxed. Hell, there was barely any pain anymore but he didn't want to go off the meds just yet.
"I guess you're not from there though." He said.
"Illium actually."
"Ah," Mark guessed he was about to hear another story of how the UNSC saved her family and friends.
The doors opened again and Mark almost leapt to his feet with supreme attention. Prestigious naval dress whites, flanked by Spartan detail, strode into his room. Lord Hood removed his cover and he was quiet for a moment, before giving the Asari nurse his attention.
"Ma'am." His voice, soft but firm. "If you don't mind."
The Asari nurse simply nodded and proceeded to walk out.
"I've spoken to the staff." Lord Hood said. "You've been upgraded to light duty."
"Aye, sir." Captain Florence stated. He proceeded to get up, slowly, hoping the nurse would come back to unattach the IV band. The past week has been physical rehabilitation. Mark could walk but with the support of crutches. He certainly wasn't going to run a PFT or perform a high-g maneuver anytime soon. "What's the invasion status, sir?"
"Disorganized."
...
Citadel Tower, Presidium Wards, 2186 Citadel Calendar, 06:37
September 2nd
For Captain Florence, there had been no indication that being attached to Lord Hood meant that he would attend every meeting and briefing that Lord Hood attended… especially the HIGHCOM briefings.
This wasn't just above his head, this was in the fucking clouds and it was frightening. Captain Florence wanted to hide in the corner and disappear. Everytime a hologram of a Fleet Admiral or General looked his way, he felt his heart seize. The eagles on his collar dirtied amongst the acclaimed presence of rows upon rows of service stripes, medals, and stars.
Not only that, but the aliens were here too. Aliens from both the Citadel and their old enemy, the Covenant. Various Asari, Turian, Salarian and other Citadel species had gathered in the massive auditorium to voice tactical and strategic grievances and concerns. Covenant allies, the Shipmaster of the Shadow of Intent, and the Arbiter himself stood close to Lord Hood along with Fleet Admiral Hackett.
And out of all, the only civilians in the room - somehow managing to be more layman than Mark - were the Citadel Councilors. In essence, they are the only representatives of what might be the last remnants of the civilian government in the galaxy. They stood at the other end of the auditorium, respectfully, and in stark opposition to Lord Hood.
But there was an absence. A noticeable absence. The Illusive Man, Cerberus, was not here.
"Gentlemen, as you know we've dedicated a significant amount of UNSC resources towards this theater," Lord Hood began.
"A significant amount?" The Turian Councilor barked. Spartacus, if Captain Florence remembered correctly. "What is preventing you from deploying everything you have?"
Spartacus grabbed something on the massive conference table that sat in the middle of the auditorium. Captain Florence this morning watched a bunch of poor fucking marines drag it in from an Albatross. Victus opened up a holo-display and presented the local exospheric graph of Palaven and its moon.
"From my men's reports, the UNSC is slowing down to a crawl! Exosphere is currently contested, and the Battle Group's reliance on a single ship, the UNSC Infinity, has made it a target for every single Reaper ship in the area!"
"We have our own problems," Fleet Admiral Jekorta Al-Fashid said. "Other threats to the UNSC that also require a significant amount of attention."
"Which you won't inform us what they even are," Primarch Victus replied, gently.. The leading commanding officer of not only the Turian forces, but nearly all of Turian society… And they complained the UNSC was too militarized. He hesitated for a moment, carefully eyeing the Turian Councilor, as if avoiding to say anything that may directly contradict his superior. "I guarantee you the Reapers are the ultimate threat you face. Other developments may wait."
"Right now many of our ODSTs have just made planetfall," Lord Hood stated. "Along with Geth support, we are currently establishing MSRs throughout all of Menae and are re-establishing strategically viable positions lost in the previous months. If you want a swift victory, gentlemen, then throwing men and resources at the problem is not the solution."
It was enough to silence them for a flicker, but not to satisfy them. Primarch Victus looked -at least when Mark was comparing it to Human facial expressions- unhappy. Not by Lord Hood's words, but rather by something else.
"Logistical routes to Palavean are holding," the Fleet Admiral of the Twelfth Fleet, Jonathan Rosco, interrupted. "Fleet Logistics Groups are utilizing short range slipspace jumps from our nearby naval supply posts… We're focusing on relying less on the local Relay."
"What about relief and supplies for other fronts?" Tevos asked. "Even without UNSC forces?"
"Again, that would imply overextending our allotted resources," Fleet Admiral Al-Fashid said.
"And I would have to agree," Lord Hood said. "We are already dedicating a significant amount not only to Palaven, but also to the Citadel. Medical and food supplies are being distributed as we speak.
"Our first priority is to organize both UNSC and allied forces into a coherent task force," Lord Hood continued. "As you are already well-aware, the UNSC's intelligence branch has been severely hampered. In order for our operations on both Palaven and Thessia to be successful, and for other future operations to be successful, we need to begin integrating your respective intelligence branches with the UNSC."
No one said a word. Everyone wanted to protest, but they knew better to object to what they already agreed to: this is a UNSC operation. This is UNSC commanded.
"But to put it simply, Fleet Admiral, it's not enough," Tevos rejected. "We don't want to pose an optic of overreliance, but we have nowhere else to turn and nowhere to go."
Lord Hood didn't reply for a moment, thinking. And if Mark were him, in all honesty, he had no idea what to say… Because the questions posed here weren't military manners, but rather humanitarian… Generosity and kindness. And admittedly, at least a historical standpoint, the best way the UNSC showed kindness was by sending fleets and divisions of marines. Not like the Elites ever asked for food. Fire support and weapons were the commodity. Post-war galactic trade on a national level outside of the homeworld and her colonies consisted of just that: weapons and fire support. Actual economies were internalized and militarized.
Still, the milk of human kindness only went so far, and it didn't seem to penetrate the hearts of people like Fleet Admiral Al-Fashid. At most, it could only extend to Humans. To people of the UNSC. At least that's how Captain Florence interpreted it as a snide and disgusted look appeared on her Asiatic face. In fact a few subtle indignant looks appeared on a handful of the admirals' faces.
This is weird, Mark thought. He always thought of HIGHCOM as...well, he didn't know. An enigmatic force that put their mind to whatever they were doing, could steamroll whatever was in their way? A full unifying force that followed absolutely Lord Hood without question.
Well, they respected him enough to follow him absolutely, but not without question. Not without disobeying orders. Because Captain Florence had seen those faces before. Those small angry faces that laterally came upon every face in a military structure. To poor E-1s, to O-10s (apparently).
"Our UNSC strategic resources are focusing on the war effort," Lord Hood said. "On, what is important, Councilor. Not only this, but we are ready up to supply the Crucible project when that time comes."
"If it comes…." One of the holograms said. A Systems Alliance admiral… Fleet Admiral Hackett, if Captain Florence remembered correctly. "Right now project members for the Crucible are...placated. But some are starting to ask questions. The right questions."
"And hopefully those questions can be answered once Blue Team and Commander Shepard complete their mission on Thessia," Lord Hood replied.
"Fleet Admiral…" Tevos said, "no matter what we find about the Crucible, if it requires us to stop the project… Are you confident the Reapers can be defeated with conventional forces?"
Lord Hood didn't respond at first. Though Captain Florence may not be as adept in this shit as Captain Lasky, he knew this was a loaded question. Somehow tied back into the UNSC not delivering every single ship and man in their disposal.
Hell, even the Fleet Admiral was waiting for a response. They were just as curious too.
"No," Lord Hood began… A silent shockwave seemed to spread about the room. "Not without your support. Not without your resources. If you are angered by our reluctance than so be it. But in the end, both sides have no idea what are the true Reapers' strength and power projections.
"Currently, this is not our fight. In a similar fashion where our war against the Covenant was not your fight. We are tired and battered, but if we plan strategically and thoughtfully, we can hold out until we find a permanent solution. And as such we cannot focus on the minutas of individuals. We understand the fight for pure survival, and one aspect is to abandon objectives and values as need to be to ensure the survival of the rest. This is a numbers game, gentlemen. Not an empathetic game."
"Sacrifice we understand," Fleet Admiral Hackett replied. "And I understand that this is not your fight. That you have no obligation to the rest of us. Hell, there might not even be any strategic value. But the proactive position you're taking in the Palaven front…"
He paused for a moment, looking around. "It may be because the Reapers are allowing you to push forward on this front."
"Elaborate," Lord Hood replied.
"The Reapers are a surprise to you as you are to them. In the Battle of Illium you successfully defeated the Reaper occupation and assault forces. Now, with a similar force composition - though against a larger force - the assault is proceeding slower than we hoped. Slow but steady. I understand we cannot show our full hand at this time."
Our full hand. Mark wasn't sure if he was criticizing or defending Lord Hood. But maybe that was the point. He wondered how much Admiral Hackett and Lord Hood argued alone behind closed doors.
Still it seemed enough to deter the Councilors, who remained rather silent. In the end, it felt like a civilian government interfering with business they had no business in. Hell, when was the last time the UNSC even dealt with a civilian government? Nearly...forty-five years ago with the UEG… And those admirals and generals who served on a Joint Chiefs of Staff commission were long dead.
And Captain Florence was sure it required a whole set of skills. Some officers who majored in political science only dealt with this on a theoretical basis.
The only use for a civilian arm at this point was only on a logistical basis. Transportation of supplies and troops sometimes required logistical groups that were reserved to some sectors like corporate.
And as Captain Florence thought about it further, it seemed like the Councilors never really liked the idea of a military force taking absolute control, even in a situation like this. Did he blame them? No. Civilians were afraid of strength and direct orders, and the simplicity the UNSC could provide. The military government the UNSC had created along with its corporate allies had become more efficient than anything the UEG or any democracy could dream of becoming. And through that any need for logistics was already filled. Manufacturing handled by the corporations, and the logistics handled by the endless hordes of support ships of Fleet Logistics Groups.
The Captain had to remember now… Actually, in fact, there were only two true civilian governments left. The Systems' Alliance governmental infrastructure was destroyed. The Turians government and military were one in the same. The Quarians' military structure was at the centralization of power in a similar way to the UNSC. The Geth...don't count as far as Captain Florence was concerned. Other than that, the only ones left were the Asari and the Salarians…
On a utilitarian scale, every perspective mattered, but on an actual efficiency scale…
"As for the status of the Menae invasion," A robotic voice interrupted. The deep, starling voice of a Geth Prime… Those things, Mark thought, borderline on science fiction. "Geth units are reporting moderate success on both the ground and exosphere. Despite our predictions, we are seeing adequate cohesion between Geth platforms and UNSC personnel-"
"What about…" The Salarian Councilor interrupted the Geth, which it seemed accustomed to. "The current status with ONI? And Cerberus, which we see is not present here currently…"
"The Illusive Man requested an audience away from the Citadel Council," Lord Hood replied. "Which we'll gladly comply with.
"As for ONI, that is an internal matter…"
"But you expect us to substitute ONI with our own intelligence elements," The Salarian Councilor replied. "We are willing to help Fleet Admiral, but we can only provide support to a degree without any guidance. ONI, to our perspective, has grown highly autonomous. And for an intelligence branch to adopt that trait is…"
"Unacceptable," Lord Hood finished for the alien. "We never had proper cohesion nor introduction after the dismantling of our civilian government. ONI was a tremendous instrument in our victory in the Great War, but they believe...that they are the only capable arbiters to guard humanity."
"Is there any merit in this assumption?" Tevos asked.
"Just like in any assumption," Lord Hood replied. "ONI is a small part of the component of our defense. The largest part of our strength, as with any measurable one in the galaxy, is our navy. History has shown that an intelligence agency can influence the course of a nation, but it cannot direct the nation itself without support."
"And with no government to speak of, the only way is through subversion through military and logistical settings," Tevos figured.
"Though ONI is now actively being treated as a hostile enemy, it does not mean their influence has fully been neutralized," Lord Hood said.
"At least you're honest in this," Tevos replied. "But if you're hoping for our intelligence branches and elements to wash away this ONI influence, I'm afraid that is nearly impossible without direct cooperation-"
"We will handle it on our own," Lord Hood sternly ordered. "We still have counterintelligence and subterfuge methods. All of ONI's assets that are considered high value are either under direct Naval control or lockdown. What we want these theoretical branches to do is more conventional. Targeted killings, asymmetrical warfare, intelligence gathering and counterintelligence."
"The works," the Salarian Councilor remarked.
And it made Captain Florence wonder what's stopping the Citadel Council from subtly influencing the UNSC, or worse directly influencing UNSC ground and Naval deployments? Besides both force and passive reconnaissance, ONI did seem to have the upper hand in terms of intelligence. When they went rogue and disappeared in the limelight, they took a vast amount of their agents with them.
Infiltration is impossible. Asymmetrical warfare… Well, on a direct scale the Spartans could always handle it, but to what degree? To the fine edge as ONI? Mark wasn't sure.
And that's a horrifying thought… The only 'intelligence' asset the Navy had left were the Spartans… But that being said, how many did ONI take with them?
Perhaps, the situation was actually more dire than anyone could imagine. But of course the UNSC couldn't admit it, couldn't show it. Yet if Mark was able to figure it out with a few logical deductions, then it's sure as shit the Council could deduce it, as well.
Captain Florence guessed it funneled down to a value estimate of assets at this point. What was worth more? Ships? Or intelligence? You can only throw so many ships at a problem, before utterly fucking up; because it was not even the right problem to solve. And without intelligence… you would never even least that's how Captain Florence thought about it. That's how he would weigh it.
Tevos leaned towards the Salarian Councilor and whispered in his/her/whatever the hell that thing is, ear. The lizard nodded, turned directly to the Asari Councilor who nodded in turn.
Fuck.
He wondered if the Council were crazy enough, or even had the balls to begin to barter and hold information hostage.
Still, he guessed there's another source of intelligence they could go to…
Lord Hood looked to his admirals, to the quiet and nearly apathetic Elites.
"Gentlemen, we're going to have to call a recess. I have another briefing I have to attend."
...
Captain Florence loosened the collar on his uniform. For whatever reason it felt tighter than usual. He followed Lord Hood and his Spartan security detail to an elevator. The elevator always seemed extremely slow. They passed by the Presidium, going about business as usual as if they were no war at all. Air cars passed by and the glistening sunlight pierced the glass veil of the elevator.
"What is the actual status report of the Thessian operation, Fleet Admiral sir?" Captain Florence. "I've heard the…. rumors from the underground that Blue Team had been deployed there."
"It's progressing. We'll receive a full report once they've completed their task," Lord Hood merely replied. That's all it'll be said. It's none of Captain Florence's business.
The elevator finally reached the old C-SEC HQ. The doors opened to reveal a hub of information and intelligence processing. Naval POGs ran around the room, from UNSC terminal to terminal with folders filled with data and holo pads. There were maybe a handful of Citadel personnel spread about the various UNSC servicemen. And in terms of professionalism, they were treated like everyone else. Shut up. Do this. Go away.
A dim green aurora now lit the room, pushing away the constant neon orange and blue of the Citadel with the standardization of the UNSCDF. When Lord Hood exited the elevator. As if on instinct, someone turned towards him and roared, "ADMIRAL ON DECK!"
"At ease," Lord Hood said as he headed into the makeshift briefing room that two weeks ago served as the initial meeting point and idealization for Operation HARPOON and SUN GOD.
Captain Florence followed closely behind. It only occurred to him, now, that acting as Lord Hood's interim aide... a lot of suckups would kill for this job. He wasn't sure what kind of person it took to be 'promoted' to this position. Probably some administrative POG asshole.
Definitely not a ship captain.
Lord Hood nodded to the Spartan team, who took up positions on the four corners of the room. A hologram near the long table activated, and the figure of Fleet Admiral Jay Harper appeared.
Out of all the shit in Captain Florence's life, he never thought he'd be rubbing goddamn shoulders with HIGHCOM. He was a garbage student at Annapolis and a run-of-the-mill Captain. What the fuck, man?
Part of him wished life… 'Fuck… almost three months ago…' could return to the way it was, before all the weird shit and rumors about New Phoenix… and the Master Chief. When things were finally looking to be bright and with an actual war far behind them.
However, he certainly felt different; compared to his battles in the Great War. In the Great War there was pure doubt. It infected the UNSC as they made due with whatever the fuck they had left. Now, with seemingly infinite supply lines supporting thousands upon thousands of ships and millions of troops, it seemed like they were on the full offensive for the first time… in a long time.
Lord Hood typed something into a datapad on the table. He took something out of his pocket and put it on the table. It looked like a shard, glowing eerily blue, and soon it hatched open; shining another hologram before man was brazenly smoking a cigarette and his blue eyes, even through the hologram, bore deep into Mark's being.
He took a drag of his cigarette, "Fleet Admiral, I'm rather disappointed."
For a few beats, Lord Hood and Fleet Admiral Harper did not speak, merely crossing their arms, with fury etched in their hardened eyes.
"Are you in a position to be disappointed with us?" Fleet Admiral Harper asked.
"More so than you think," He flicked away his finished cigarette and pulled another one from his suit pocket.
"Rather interesting Aria T'Loak would spend time extracting data from our servers." He continued, before lighting the cigarette.
"She's a wild card," Fleet Admiral Harper replied. "While she is currently under UNSC jurisdiction, under our agreement with the Citadel, we do not have full control of the actions of our allies.
The Illusive Man flicked some of the ashes off screen then proceeded to take yet another drag, "Have we done something to upset you, Fleet Admiral?"
"If you would like to accuse the UNSC then say it," Harper shot back.. "Otherwise, get off the line."
"You contacted me…"
"You lied to us," Lord Hood interjected. His voice was severe and his eyes were now blades.. "You understood the consequences yet you continued to harbor information that is vital to the UNSC. You did this."
"And yet you originally harbored secrets that are vital to Humanity," the Illusive Man refuted. Despite the grave air, he spoke as if they were… a pet that did something wrong.
Excuse the fuck outta me?
"What the fuck did you just say, you freak…?" Mark growled..
"You heard correct, Captain Florence," the Illusive Man replied. "The UNSC does not hold the monopoly of Guardianship over Humanity. Fleet Admiral, you must realize that we are both in a position to be equal partners."
"That's not how this works," Harper cut back. "Whatever you want to call this... this partnership is dictated by open access on your end. Not attempted infiltration of vital UNSC assets."
"A necessary precaution," the Illusive Man waving away Fleet Admiral Harper's warning. "We may not have the firepower, but we do have the agility and the precision.
Red glowed from his nearly finished cigarette. He smiled, "If you want to ask about what you found aboard Minuteman Station, you may."
"That's a question best suited to Aria," said Harper.
"Yes... Aria," Amusement laced the Illusive Man's words. "Who now possess operatives capable of full infiltration in record time, tearing right through my men without trouble... utilizing lead-based ammunition."
"Not every relationship is one way,"
The Illusive Man grunted. Insulted at Harper's apparent deflection. "Something like this required a heuristic response. You know this… Was it worth enduring such a response?"
"If you threaten the UNSC," Lord Hood replied, "the only heuristic response you'll receive is annihilation."
Lord Hood stepped towards the Illusive Man and then, Mark witnessed the full power of the UNSC.
"Son, I would think very carefully on your next words."
The Illusive Man was silent. Only the wisps of smoke were his reply.
"You may believe you're in a strategically precarious position, but believe me when I say it will only last so long," Lord Hood added.
The Illusive Man finished up his cigarette, "Lord Hood, I think you severely overvalue your strategic worth to Cerberus." With that, he walked away, and the holo-display deactivated.
"Motherfucker…" Captain Florence whispered.
Lord Hood immediately turned to the Captain, "Send word out to all security commands aboard the Citadel and within theater."
"Sir?"
"We're about to be hit. Hard. We need to be ready, Captain. Raise security to high alert, and be ready to initiate Cole Protocol. We're at REDCON One."