Chapter 12 – Maecenas Vitae

Undisclosed Time (Military Calendar - Redacted)

Undisclosed Location

:********:

The hallway ahead was of an even deeper shade of the color that was Commander White's namesake. The sterile walls, lights without a visible source and a continuous track of walking space was starting to drive him mad. He felt like he could walk on forever, to experience an eternity of boredom with nothing to do but wait to suffer the fate of any ONI executive officer; delivering a mission brief to a higher-up. It wouldn't be just any ONI higher-up either. That fact alone made this occasion more of a judgement day than a briefing.

He subconsciously checked over his uniform. A few cursory glances across his apparel proved that his shoulder patches and insignia were in place, that his shirt held no sign of an incriminating crease and that his boots were indeed polished to an appropriate shine.

There wouldn't be any room for error where he was going. They would inspect both the content he'd come to present as well as his own presentation of himself. These were no pushover pencil pushers. They had more in common with psych branch in their ability to gauge everything about him on first glance with heightened accuracy. Straightforwardness, a sense of direction and most importantly, recognition of the importance of their time and the importance of his target would be what ultimately sold this mission. He had little doubt about that last part given the identity of said target, but ONI could always have bigger fish to fry. Therefore, this one had to be fried quickly before they let him off the proverbial hook that he didn't even know he was on.

Despite that most of the hallway was filled with an empty quietness, there were doors to his right and left that kept him from losing his sanity. He finally found the one whose frame was highlighted in green indicator lights as the motion sensors detected his presence. He steeled himself and strode towards it.

:********:

The room was basic, its featureless white-walls and dark, smooth granite floor were unassuming, as they should be. The secrets hidden within were too consequential for anything other than a look that demanded the observer lose interest. However, its two observers today were not interested in the architecture at all. They knew exactly what was contained here in the many hidden halls, rooms and passages. Still, it could have used just a bit more class than the oval-shaped mahogany table at its center that gave off just enough officiousness to set the mood.

Just enough was not enough. She felt that what was needed was an adequate balance of style to hide away the scenery's overwhelmingly sedentary optics. Perhaps a house plant in one corner, a painting of the Battle of Psi Serpentis in another and a regular office desk in the middle more suited to ONI's stature. Or maybe she was missing her personal office again. Her accommodations would naturally disagree with her subordinate's tastes. He had to share the room with her just as much as she did with him until the briefing was over. Regardless, she made a mental note to put in a word with housekeeping about adding some new touches. The more that junior grade officers who used the room considered only its normal features rather than its abnormal plainness the better.

She sat at a chair at one end of the table with the other end pointed towards the room's only door and a wall-mounted projection screen. With nothing to do for the last few minutes before the briefing, she lay a hand on the table and tapped an aged finger on its surface to the tune of I Vow to Thee My Country. As she did, she looked at the wrinkles on her hand, at how the veins were visible through patches of skin left discolored by time. She wondered back to another era that felt like only yesterday when those features were replaced by youthful skin. Those hands, stronger then, helped her during her first service as captain of the UNSC Lutyens. They'd been there to help her manage the process of incorporating the failing Colonial Administration Authority's own Department of Colonial Security, or DCS, into the Office's fold, thereby boosting her ascent up ONI's chain of command. Today they were frail things that could only hint at the greatness they had once aspired to. But she also felt they were right to become what they did. It was in-line with the guilt she should have felt for the unspeakable acts they had instigated. Honestly, there was no guilt other than a prospective sense of failure at unsuccessful ventures, no punishment exacted but that of time's natural processes. Those who could punish her were for the most part blissfully unaware of her decisions. Those that did know were too busy maintaining their plausible deniability for when the war ultimately ended, if it ever did, while they reaped the rewards of her present labors.

She all the while was left with the cost and the bitter-sweet sense that every victory was worth the expense paid in blood and morality. Then again, a certain event soon to unfold on July 3rd was beginning to make her question where those lines might fall, between victory and outright annihilation.

In the middle of her tapping she glimpsed the man sitting to her left.

Rear Admiral Rich, or Ned since they were on a first name basis, was a man well into his 50s. He'd started graying when he was in his early 40s and was already well into the transition. Rich oversaw every covert operation undertaken by ONI Section III save for one. Having come to a spot of boredom himself, he had taken out his personal drink, a gold flask wreaking a refined woody aroma, and was taking regular swigs. Judging by how refined the scent was, she guessed that he had finally dropped his personal preference for cheap whisky in exchange for more expensive tastes of the same brand, a sign that just like her he was getting older.

On the rare occasions that they were in the same physical space it was usually to discuss and finalize something of high-significance to ONI, the UNSC and humanity at large. The commissioning of Ackerson's Spartan III Program, the review of its first generation with the men who'd personally trained them as well as that generation's subsequent annihilation on Operation PROMETHEUS were among their more memorable sessions. Though a few other key players were missing, on this occasion they were about to discuss the matter of 'finishing off' the Insurrectionists. She had to wonder how possible that truly was given their observed resilience. She also had to wonder at the commander who personally believed it was feasible to accomplish. Yet he was the only person who she was willing to entertain such an opinion from. While she had spent much of her life battling both terrestrial and extraterrestrial threats, the agent coming to brief them now had much of his early life dedicated solely to defeating the Insurrectionists.

As if on cue, the indicator lights on the room's single door flashed green. They slid open, allowing that very same officer to step inside.

Her first thought was his striking resemblance to one Lieutenant Jacob Keyes, though with a narrower jaw and subtle dimples, hair fully white and eyes a steely gray. Another difference, one she noted keenly, was what completely set the two apart. Keyes had that look of reserved honesty suited to someone who'd worked as a liaison officer with ONI operations, though without being part of the organization itself. White had all that along with the accustomed darkness of a man fully acclimated to the Office and its dealings.

The door slid shut behind Commander White as he stood at attention between the wall-screen and the other end of the table.

"Admiral Parangosky, Rear Admiral Rich, it is an honor to have you in attendance." White said officiously. "If you will permit me, I would like to begin the briefing."

Rich gave her a look that said he knew whose permission he was really asking for.

Parangosky checked the commander over for a few seconds. He stood ramrod straight for the duration of her examining him for any signs of indiscipline or a lack of confidence. There were none. Then she glanced over at a small digital clock built into a panel on the table's surface and smiled. "Right on time. You're quite punctual, commander."

"As is to be expected of ONI personnel mam." White astutely replied.

She nodded, scrutinizing him closer. "Indeed. Now then, let's get on to the details."

"Of course, mam."

The room's lights dimmed as the front screen brightened to an active state. White stepped to the side of it as the organization's pyramidal insignia appeared. A moment later it changed to the symbol of two arrowheads, one inverted and phased over the other to form the letter 'A'.

White cleared his throat. "Since its formation in 2534, followed by its addition to that detected Molnar Colonial Bank account opened in 2532, Aegis Material Acquisition and Defensive Delivery Services has been a mercenary organization operating under the guise of legality. In truth, it is little more than a front operation for Insurrectionist activity centered on the glassed planet of Kholo."

The image changed, splitting into three sections. The one on the left showed the insignia of the AMADDS while the one on the right showed the easily recognized face of ex-Major Benjamin Kirkley. The last below the other two showed a brown-hued world she presumed to be Kholo.

"We've managed to plant a temporary agent within the organization, an informant that was able to personally confirm the presence of Major Benjamin Kirkley after a face-to-face meeting. Our informant also confirmed his position as leader of the AMADDS and commander and chief of Hayth, the local township that they've established in the northeastern hemisphere."

Two panels on the table each slid away to reveal a datapad. Rich took his after putting aside his flask. Parangosky took hers without so much as breaking eye contact with the stilled image of the major. The devices activated in their hands. Parangosky made a quick read-through of the op's specs. Names, dates, resources and unit recommendations were all laid out in neat bullet points. One detail held her attention in particular. It was the identity of White's field operative; a HUMINT asset from the 7th Shock Troops Battalion along with his portrait picture.

The name 'Iris. Duncan R.' immediately rang a bell.

"Interesting." She thought allowed and gestured for him to continue.

The screen changed to show a less familiar face, a man sporting glasses, a lab-coat and an expression that said he had somewhere better to be.

"This is Dr. Schonberg. Our informant also confirmed his presence at Hayth. He's a former member of the Colonial Conservationist Society. The UEG tried cutting his funding when they discovered he was making devitrification technologies. Not long afterwards he went missing. As it turns out, he still managed to successfully complete his design of an environmental system able to devitrify the surface of glassed planets. However, investigations into the CCS branch in Casbah, following a report by our informant, confirmed he maintained connections with CCS personnel. While this helped him finish production of what we now know to be called the Pele-5 Land Reformer, he received the necessary funding from-"

"Kirkley." Parangosky finished.

White nodded. "He's currently in charge of Land Control, a department of Hayth's governing structure responsible for creating arable land. He's also accompanied by an artificial intelligence named Athena. She helps him run the Pele-5 systems in the selected areas known as 'Grids' as well as many of Hayth's internal facilities."

The screen changed again to show the frontal profile of a man who seemed like a living contradiction. His caramel hair was perfectly buzzcut yet his scraggly beard looked like it was left to manage itself. Then there was the honest, amused smile and a pair of sleepy eyes that gave the impression of a predator ready to pounce at a moment's notice.

"Next is this man, Jonathan Stewards. He holds the rank of captain within the AMADDS and is one of Kirkley's longest serving subordinates." White stopped to briefly consider his next words. He stood a little straighter, a noteworthy movement that Parangosky couldn't miss. "He is also an augmented individual due to his heritage as the child of two successful candidates of the ORION Project."

Rich raised a brow. "Come again? He's the child of two 'ORION' personnel?"

"That's correct, sir."

"A Spartan 1.1." Parangosky noted thoughtfully.

"I thought we had them all catalogued and located." Rich said. "We wouldn't just let one slip out of our hands like this."

"We can't keep track of everyone, Rich. It's easier for us to maintain tabs on those who don't know we're keeping tabs on them. It seems that Mr. Stewards here knew we had an eye on him. Once they know we're watching, they can take extra precautions, some of which cause them to drift off our radar."

Rich still looked confused by the matter. He grasped his forehead and sighed. "An Insurrectionist Spartan, who would've guessed."

"Well, technically, it was a time before we called them 'Spartans' but it probably still counts. Please continue, commander."

"Yes mam." White said. "Now that I've introduced the individuals of note, we can go into the next topic of our priorities and how we intend to carry out this operation."

The screen flicked over to satellite imagery of a planet's surface zoomed in to just 2-kilometers above ground level. It offered a comprehensive view of an oval-shaped town dominating the desert outskirts of what looked like a tri-city area. Outside of its guardian walls were several dozen locations mostly to the immediate west with at least one in the east. All were labeled with white texts.

"We've deployed our specialized observation unit Oden's Eye to acquire a view of Hayth from local space. We've combined this with locational reports from our guy on the ground to identify the name and purpose of important infrastructure. Our priorities for this mission will be as follows. First is the capture and or neutralization of Major Benjamin Kirkley. He actively uses the Bastille Building here as an administrational center."

A large building at Hayth's center was highlighted in green.

"Second is the capture of Dr. Schonberg and the acquisition of his Pele-5 Land Reformer. That will be conducted here at Land Control in Grid-20."

Another area was highlighted several kilometers to Hayth's northeast.

"Third is the capture of Starship Row, the landing area for their ships. We'll need to secure it before any of the freighters there can escape the planet or offer us trouble."

The next area to be highlighted was another few kilometers to the west of Hayth.

"Fourth will be securing Hayth itself as well as the local population. An estimated 5,000 civilians live there. These are added to by a garrison force of 300 AMADDS stationed on rotation on any given day. We're looking at an urban firefight scenario within a dense, closely packed civilian population. The operation will warrant both extreme prejudice as well as swift neutralization of hostile entities. Each priority target will have to be handled quickly and simultaneously."

Parangosky sifted further through the notes and mini-diagrams of the battle-plan on her datapad, checking each stage from one phase to the next, searching for where it could all go wrong. Friendly and enemy casualty proposals showed a reasonable leaning in favor of friendly forces. Civilian casualties would also be mitigated. It was mostly an airtight strategy except...

"How do you plan on compensating for unpredictable, third-party factors?"

"Mam?"

"Third party factors." She repeated matter-of-factly. "You'll be behind enemy lines, commander. There's a solid chance that you may very well end up bumping into a Covenant patrol."

"Will just four prowlers be enough if they manage to engage you with ships from this Starship Row place, even worse, at the same time as a Covenant cruiser shows up?" Rich asked. "Those would be long odds even for the most seasoned Navy men."

"That is also a factor we've considered." White said. "Which is why we'll purposefully be attacking during one of the cyclical dust storms that appears on this region of the planet. Surveillance shows that when a storm is actively in progress over the area, the flight control for Starship Row keeps all flights grounded. The details are made clearer in the climate report."

Parangosky shifted her attention there. A quick read brought a smile to her face. "I don't believe I'm mistaken commander, but the plan here explains how the ground assault will commence 'before' the storm comes."

"Yes mam, right before it."

"Then what about Starship Row? Isn't there still an opening for them to send additional support against a siege on Hayth?"

"No mam. How the dust storms operate is that they typically materialize from the far west and push east to the town and the arable lands. That gives us our window. We'll time it so that our forces hit the ground right as the dust storm reaches Starship Row and secure Hayth before the storm arrives there next. That way we keep from a protracted combat scenario under hazardous conditions. Until then, we'll avoid detection in the atmosphere using the prowlers' stealth ablative coating. It's unlikely the Insurrectionists possess anything powerful enough to detect us beforehand. However, an element of our forces will have to move in just before the storm has fully passed in order to neutralize Starship Row. The same will be done for Land Control before the weather reaches there."

She already knew the answer he would give of course because she had read the full explanation and connected the dots. However, she wanted to test him, to see how well he handled getting holes poked into his plans. It would be a good indication of how well he'd respond when predictably unpredictable events forced a sudden change in operational strategy.

"No plan ever survives contact with the enemy." Rich said as he contemplated the intel. "Montke taught us that, then proved it himself with the Schlieffen Plan. From just that historical precedent, you should know we cannot afford to find ourselves in a two-front conflict in Hicetas, especially when we're already having trouble handling one of those fronts on the wider scale. What will you do to counter the Covenant making their most recent debut in the system since '39, mainly if they arrive in force?"

She could tell Rich was testing him in a similar vein.

"We've deemed it an unlikelihood that Covenant ships would arrive in force since they tend not to return to worlds they've already glassed. Further, due to disclosed intelligence gathered on Covenant patrols from Operation HYPODERMIC, we know that the typical Covenant patrol consists of a single CCS. They normally stick to their territorial space. If one does show up, a pair of Prowlers armed with SHIVA Tactical Nukes will be more than equipped to both ambush and neutralize such a threat."

"Before it could squawk for reinforcements?"

"That is the belief, sir. However, due to the astro-navigational and ship-to-ship tactics required for such maneuvers, as well as the slim possibility that our ground incursion may not stop rebel ships in time, I have a consideration."

Good, Parangosky thought. He was considering the chances of his plan coming apart altogether.

"What's the consideration?" Rich asked. "It's not listed on the dossier."

"It's an additional one, sir. Actually, it's a request from me to you directly that you be the commanding officer in charge of the operation in space."

Parangosky smiled even more. This commander was truly trying everything to ensure this operation was not only approved but succeeded. It was good preparation, a kind that she could tell Rich himself hadn't seen coming. The rear admiral blinked a few times in surprise. He looked to Parangosky who nodded back, satisfied with the idea.

"It's been a while since my last deployment in the field." Rich said, pride rising in his voice. "I guess we'll have to see how rusty I've gotten."

"I would hope not too rusty, sir."

Parangosky laughed in that light, polite way that could make even the strictest disciplinarian crack a smile. She was amused and pleased. The commander certainly wasn't a people pleaser. He didn't say Rich wasn't rusty at all to try to endear himself to them. That was a common feature to other snobbish Section I operatives. Those were the sort that thought they could reach the top by bribing COs with just enough undue compliments. Simultaneously, he wasn't so critical that he would incur a response from the disciplinarian of disciplinarians herself. He had a level-headedness about him that would soon come in handy.

"Well, I see you're obviously enjoying yourself, Margaret." Rich pointed out. "And yes, commander, I hope I've not lost my touch behind the wheel either. I accept your offer, though I assume it's also to balance out the rank inequality with the task force's two other commanders."

"That's correct, sir."

"And you'll be the one to take care of things on the ground?"

"Yessir."

"Good to hear. Glad I could fill the void, now if you'd excuse me while I fill mine."

As Rich took another long drink from his flask, Parangosky stepped in, pushing her pad aside. "And what do you plan to do with Kirkley, precisely? Your rules of engagement say kill or capture. That doesn't tell me which is your preferred method of acquisition."

"As for now, the priority is Kirkley's capture. We've designated special teams from the ground incursion force to secure the Bastille Building's perimeter, then to move in to cut-off Kirkley and his staff."

"We've cornered him before." Parangosky said, thinking back. "But the last time we did, he ended up weaseling out of the safe house we had him in thanks to an Insurrectionist team that knew where to look. What guarantees can you make that even if he is captured that he won't escape us again for another decade. Who knows where we'll be in that stage of the war. The last thing we'll need is an opportunist like him preying on an already hard-pressed UNSC. Like you said, there are always 300 AMADDS on rotation, meaning that we have an unknown quantity of fish who will be evading your net. What will you do to make sure they and Kirkley aren't a factor in the future, that they won't link up later to resume this little operation of theirs?"

"We've accounted for these realities as well. In Kirkley's case, we'll be taking what efforts we can to capture him. He will then be tried under the appropriate judiciary boards of authority and executed. That said, if unforeseen conditions do arise that deem it necessary, I plan on granting that permission to the capture team. They'll perform his execution then and there if need be."

"Understood."

"You wanted to bring him to Midnight, didn't you Margaret?" Rich asked snidely.

Margaret ignored the jibe that was so unadmittedly true, that she wanted Kirkley tortured more so than executed, and nodded to the commander.

"As for the remainder of the AMADDS, we're proposing additional task forces of ONI personnel from Section I continue to spy on seperate units and platoons. They are to keep the individual teams out on missions from returning to Hicetas, launching small scale elimination operations to stop them from also communicating or rendezvousing with each other. I am also recommending these operations be undertaken in conjunction with available Spartan assets."

"Divide and conquer." Parangosky noted. "That's a suitable strategy, especially given what we trained the Spartans for. Which will be your preference in that case? We have teams of both Spartan IIs and Spartan III Cat-2's suited to counter-insurgency operations of this kind."

"Either one is preferable mam. Whichever units are available, we'll gladly take them."

"I see, and on the note of Spartans..." Parangosky lay a finger on her pad and tapped on the screen. Coincidentally, or at least that was how she planned for it to appear, the screen reactivated and the face of the man named Captain Jonathan Stewards appeared beneath her finger. "What of this man, this rogue Spartan 1.1? What is your preferred approach?"

"The same conditions apply to him as with Kirkley. The assault teams assigned specifically to Hayth will be warned to keep an eye out for him. Now due to his altered physiology, there is a greater chance that we may end up having to eliminate him on the spot."

"That...will be a regrettable loss but an acceptable one." Parangosky said. "From what you noted in the details in your dossier I was hoping we might capture him. I want to know what this 'condition' is that he struggles with, especially as to how that might relate to Spartans of his kind as well as those in active service. If you cannot secure him alive then bring back his body as intact as possible."

White nodded affirmatively to an order whose morbidity had been regarded with the casualness of one placed to a fast-food restaurant. Another good sign. He could respond receptively to changes in his strategy on the spot, however small they panned out to be.

She scrolled down without looking and stopped on the exact image of Dr. Schonberg, not difficult given her analytical memorization skills had only sharpened with age. She raised a quizzical brow. "And the good doctor?"

White looked to Rich uncertainly then back to her. "I believe our approach there has already been stated, mam."

"Yes, and I don't like it."

Though his demeanor didn't change, she saw his reaction in his body language as he stiffened up by a minute degree.

"Which part do you disagree with?"

"It's in relation to-, oh who am I kidding that's exactly the issue; why is killing him not an option?"

"He's a civilian, mam."

"So?"

"...He poses little threat to us personally."

Parangosky leaned over the table, grasped her hands together to rest her chin on her knuckles and eyed him closely. "It's not about the personal threat he poses. It's the ideological one." She scrolled down to the images of the Pele-5 unit taken in secret by White's informant. "Commander, please understand that if people become more and more aware of a growing force outside of the UNSC capable of restoring glassed planets, while avoiding Covenant detection, that risks sparking a mass-exodus from UNSC-controlled space. People will no longer look to us for a guaranteed future but will gamble away their chances on whatever this man is providing...with the Insurrectionists. Make no mistake, there could be no Hayth without Dr. Schonberg."

"Do you want us to assassinate him?"

"What I want is for you to take the necessary precautions applied to the other two. Like you said, there's little chance he will pose any threat personally. Even so, if he escapes, namely with all that successful re-terraformation technology, then we will have a problem. And if he should slip through your grasp anyway, if you can't kill him, keep him from taking or destroying that technology." She leaned back in her seat and spoke low. "We may very well end up needing it for our own purposes after this war is over. Hope will be the primary weapon at that point, hope that we can bring back what we've lost. Whoever wields it will wield humanity itself, and I don't plan on finding its hilt in the hands of an Insurrectionist sympathizer at the end of my days."

White's response was to the point as expected. "I understand, mam. The precautions will be enacted by the teams assigned to Land Control."

"Excellent."

"And you're certain the AI you've selected will be able to handle the local artificial intelligence?" Rich asked.

"I do. GRN-24877 was specifically selected for his capacities in offensive-intrusion and counter-intrusion software. He'll be more than capable of locking Athena out of the system and giving the forces going to Hayth the upper hand. We simply need to get him into a primary access terminal at Land Control before the main assault."

Parangosky considered it. Her contemplations on the AI selection showed there really was no option better than the one White had chosen. He'd really done his homework. She decided to switch topics.

"I see here that once you've removed the population, you intend to perform demolition work for the entire site, correct?"

"To prevent its future use by other dissident factions, yes."

"I'd rather you didn't. I want that town kept in one piece as part of a continuation of Operation Red Sahara. I do believe you know the specs on that?"

"Section II's operation to side-track Covenant resources using abandoned planets." White affirmed. "I've heard of it. You want to use Kholo?"

"Yes, more specifically Hayth. You can demolish infrastructure needed to maintain a strong militant presence like these 'grids' as well as munitions depots and Starship Row. But keep the houses and buildings. Leave their power systems running as well. On the off-chance that a Covenant patrol does visit the system, they may spot the settlement and mistake it for an active colony or a genuine recolonization effort. It will possibly even call-in a small fleet to readdress the entire planet. Better yet, it will make the Covenant wonder as to whether we return to the worlds they've already glassed. Potentially, they'll return to said worlds to investigate, thereby eating away at resources directed at the inner colonies. The years' worth of efforts from psychological operations that that would incur by itself would be tremendous."

White was fast to figure things out for himself. He replied, "That's a much better use for the planet, mam, I honestly wasn't even thinking on that level. We'll leave the specified infrastructure intact as you've requested."

Not a direct complement, so she could be sure he was avoiding the suck-up routine some in his section were known for. That behavioral consistency combined with his tactical versatility helped seal the deal.

Parangosky shared an agreeing look with Rich before they both nodded to the commander.

"It's a greenlight from us." Rich said.

"Past operations have enabled us to wound the Insurrection both before and after the arrival of the Covenant, but this will be the critical blow." Parangosky declared. "If you succeed, we won't simply leave them limping but crawling like a decapitated cockroach. Fitting considering that we'll be taking out the last prominent heads of their leadership. Once that's gone, the rest of the body is bound to follow. If that is the end of your presentation, commander, then you are dismissed with our blessing."

White glanced between the two gratefully, his posture straightening with the confidence to go forward. He nodded to both of them in turn. "Thank you, Admiral, Rear Admiral, we'll begin making our preparations right away."

"You do that, commander." Rich said, tipping his flask to him.

White saluted, turned and walked out the door. They watched it slide shut behind him. Rich took another swig of his whiskey.

"Will you ever stop drinking?"

"Will you ever stop haggling me about it?"

"No."

"Then that's your answer, admiral."

Margaret lightly laughed. "Very well then, your liver, your choice."

"Hey, it's not like I'm trying to get up in age. I don't plan on living long, just long enough to see this war through, and this just so happens to take the edge off of the whole ordeal."

"And is there a problem with being 'up in age'?"

Rich briefly side-eyed her from around the curve of his upturned flask. He caught sight of her waiting glare and put his bottle down hesitantly, swallowing the last of its contents. He gently shook it, perhaps hoping for more to magically appear inside. "Alright, I'll take that one back."

"We'll scrub it from the record." She dropped the topic entirely to bring her datapad out in front of her. She scrolled back up to the specific profile and the corresponding unit affiliation that had held her interest from the start. "I'm sure you noticed White's informant."

Rich thumped the stopper back into his flask and put it away. "How could I have not noticed? My question is, how did you?"

"I keep tabs on everything I deem worthy of keeping tabs on. People aren't exempt from that list."

"I'm certain I kept quiet about it. Since you know anyway, I guess I failed."

"You honestly thought you could get that past me? Well, at least you signed them on to the confidentiality contract. For all their service, it will be their silence that saves them."

"In my defense, we needed them to boost the chances of success for TORPEDO. The team was acquired for the program by one of Ackerson's most trusted subordinates. I figured-"

"Tarkovsky?"

"...Yes. How'd you guess that?"

"He's the only ONI agent with the drive and machinations needed to keep up with a man like Ackerson." Parangosky stopped to smile. "I've been looking at his modus operandi as of late. I swear, the colonel won't be the only one vying for my position when the time comes."

"That's the far future, I'd hope?"

"Hope is irrelevant in that case. Time is relevant, and right now we don't have very much of it. How much longer do you think it will be before they burn that informant?"

Rich thought about it as they rose up out of their seats. "I'd rather like to think they won't figure him out. If they do, and torture him enough to get answers, it won't be pretty."

They moved for the door, Rich with ease while Parangosky took each step with a preemptive one from her wooden cane.

"My concern is that if he's informed of the invasion plan and then is interrogated before that happens then our intentions go up in smoke."

"I doubt it'll come to that. If the AMADDS weren't discerning before they picked him up, they likely won't be now."

"I simply hope we won't end up having to find a way to kill him before that can happen." The door slid aside for them and they stepped out into the luminous, white-walled corridor. "Killing our own is the last thing I want. I'm not very fond of putting down allies, however compromised they may be."

"Unless they're straight-up traitors like Kirkley, but I guess you'd view those as very different circumstances."

Parangosky's eyes became venomous to behold. "Very."

Rich turned his back on her and started down the left side of the corridor. He waved back without turning. "I'll be sure to pass on your greetings to Kirkley if I see him."

"If you see him."

Leaving it at that, Parangosky headed right. The two parted ways, one leisurely swishing around the airy contents of his golden flask and the other filling the infinite corridor with the echoed pattering of her cane.

:********:

Nova was pissed.

In the wake of the events of the last few weeks, she was ready to shoot someone, namely a certain squadmate who had gone AWOL without so much as leaving a note. She'd already promised him once that she would shoot him if he ever used her pet-name. Now she was more than ready to expand that criterion.

When they'd gotten back from their week-long trip to Quezon, squad Epsilon was surprised to find no traces of the team's resident cryptanalyst.

Rather worryingly, they instead found Erica living alone with Noah in the civilian residential building. They knew something was wrong when she explained that Duncan had gone off to New Alexandria to meet with an old friend, only to never return or answer any of her calls. Worse yet, when they'd found Deaks, who'd also decided to stay in Falchion, he didn't have any answers for them. However, even though he didn't say anything, Nova could sense that something had him more worried than he was letting on.

The Staff regularly contacted the New Alexandria Police Department to find out if they'd come across their missing member. The reply was always no.

Day by day, their collective worries increased. At one point Hector volunteered his full salary to pay for another set of starship tickets to New Alexandria. Then they could search the city itself and comb it for their lost comrade. However, the Staff shut down his idea, insisting that Duncan technically wasn't AWOL yet. He hadn't abandoned an active military post since they were all still on shore leave. At his insistence that he would eventually turn up, the squad waited at Falchion.

More days accumulated into nearly two weeks of silence. Contacting him on different devices didn't work, nor did interrogating the local AI William or even an ever wearied Erica for details surrounding his disappearance. No one knew anything.

Duncan had told them he would be spending the time they were gone with his wife and kid. Instead, he decided to dip on them. It was more so the emotional distress of her friend searching for her missing husband that made Nova more infuriated than anything else.

That anger was currently cooled down to a low boil as she focused on Bravo Company's most recent mission briefing.

On the evening of June 11th, all Bravo Company personnel were called in to Falchion's primary auditorium, one of the base's largest buildings in the general vicinity of the Center. No one was particularly enthused by the idea of a mission briefing while they were still enjoying their hard-earned time off. Nevertheless, they flocked to the building and fanned out across its chair-filled interior.

The meeting began at 1900 Hours sharp. In that hour a set of doors on the left-hand side of the elevated front stage were opened. A pair of Army MPs held them open for two men. One they recognized right away as their own Colonel Garrison. He'd been cultivating a new goatee beard since they'd last seen him. Then there was the other man they didn't recognize at all who just so happened to share Garrison's white-haired looks without the respective age. The two could have been mistaken for brothers, Garrison possibly being the eldest. That idea was shot down as they drew closer to the front of the stage and the differences in their apparel became obvious. They were from sister services. Garrison wore his camouflage-gray pants and the characteristic black shirt with the white letters 'ODST' written on the chest. On the other hand, the newcomer sported a grayish white uniform bearing much more officiousness as well as the double 'L' bracketed insignia of a commander. And then of course there was the insignia that made a cold feeling descend into everyone's stomachs; the black and white pyramid of the Office of Naval Intelligence.

Stopping at the edge, Garrison used a comm-piece connected to the building's PA to first personally apologize for intruding on their shore leave. He then apologized again that he would be intruding on it for the next several days before introducing the man next to him as Commander White. His last words to them were that they would be using that aforementioned time to undertake a mission of grave importance. He left further elaboration up to the ONI officer as he stepped aside.

White, thanking him for the introduction, proceeded to use the main screens hanging above and to either side of the stage to make his presentation on Operation TROJAN.

The rest of the squad and the company got quickly engrossed in the details. TROJAN would be a bold-faced assault on an Insurrectionist headquarters based in the long lost Hicetas system. Nova hadn't heard of a planet named Kholo before or could have imagined the extensiveness of the post-glassing settlement on its surface. 'Hayth' was an impressive little hideaway hosting a sizable civilian population, so much so that there were whispered worries in the crowd about getting civies caught in cross-fires.

White activated the room's holographic projection system. It displayed the different components of a technology called the 'Pele-5 Land Reformer' that enabled this settlement to exist. He explained everything: the purpose of the drones, the pylons, the heating plates and the stunningly complex devitrification process that they induced. An array of shocked expressions and inspired oohs and awes comprised the majority of Bravo's reaction. None of them had thought it possible that a glassed planet could be restored in mere days' worth of time, or at least enough of it to restart arable cultivation. The amount of land needed for a place like Hayth entailed that whoever was responsible for Pele-5 had been at it for a while.

Then White showed them the frontal picture of a man with glasses smiling annoyedly at the camera. He explained that it was Dr. Schonberg, the maker of Pele-5. He briefly went over his history, then exposed his involvement with the going's on at Hayth and that he needed to either be captured or neutralized.

Next, the commander dropped an image of none other than Major Benjamin Kirkley. He was more a rumor than a real person to Epsilon given how long they'd trained to catch him on Epsilon Eridani IV. Now they were surprised to find out they'd been looking in the wrong place. Instead of being at the Meleonich mining facility, he'd actually been hiding away in Hayth as the leader of town affairs. And, again, they were being sent out to capture or kill him.

As if it weren't enough of a gut check, White informed them that he was the commander of the mercenary group Aegis Material Acquisition and Defensive Delivery Services. Said service was also headquartered on the same planet. Of course, the mention only hit home for Epsilon, the lone survivors of 1st Platoon during that prolonged asset reallocation mission on Miridem. Even then, it didn't register to Mito and Renni who tried to figure out why everyone else had gotten so tense.

It was like the feeling of being betrayed by someone you never trusted but didn't think they were capable of doing something 'that' bad.

Nova was trying to piece together her rampant thoughts. There was her general sense of being right about her instincts on the guys. Then there was also her unease. She didn't know how to make sense of the fact that she'd been serving with Insurrectionists while carrying out an order by UNSC personnel that would assist a corporation in league with both. A mouthful to explain and a mind-full to think through.

White's follow-up action made her ignore her confusion altogether as he showed them pictures of the commanding officers; the 'captains' ranking beneath Kirkley. There were different photos taken of over several dozen individuals. Some looked like ordinary civilians wearing casual clothes that made them blend in with their surroundings. Others sported that same ballistic tactical gear they'd seen before but in various environments, a few even shooting rifles at targets blurred by distance and motion. None of them looked like they'd willingly or knowingly gotten their pictures taken. Not unexpected for ONI.

However, White went out of his way to single out the one face among the captains that everyone in Epsilon, except for Mito and Renni, knew personally.

Captain Stewards was posed in his tactical gear with the light of an afternoon sun in the background. He was standing with his foot atop something out of view and looked ready and determined to run somewhere, MA5B in hand.

"This is Captain Jonathan Stewards. He is an exceptionally dangerous member of the AMADDS. His capture is a top priority. However, due to the danger he poses, his elimination is authorized. In that scenario, recovery of the body is also of high priority."

Interesting. Nova had to wonder what made Stewards so impressive that he got singled out. He never struck her as someone able to fight above the level of the average merc. So why was he so dangerous, and why was ONI interested in his body?

White went on to show how the mission would unfold, weather conditions, secondary and tertiary contingency plans, individual tasks intended for squad and platoon actions, the works.

A dust storm was the last thing anyone wanted to fight in. The result was a plain understanding that they needed to achieve their objectives before it got into town. When he spoke on the assault of Land Control, most of Epsilon heard quite clearly the name 'Mr. Green'. Whoever was going to capture the doctor would also be required to insert the artificial intelligence into a local terminal. Thereafter, their AI would be free to address the local guardian intelligence known as Athena. An AI battle was something she struggled to wrap her mind around, but so was the notion of seeing an old face again, a smart fourth-generation that liked pawning himself off as a wheelchair-bound paraplegic.

Finally, White topped it all off by saying that Bravo Company wouldn't be going in alone. The 10th Battalion, their sister unit, would be joining them with their Alpha Company under the command of one Colonel Hayes. The intention would be to make up for the fact that many of the 7th's other companies were mostly undermanned, that being because almost everyone else was on shore leave around Reach. It was easier to work alongside a battalion still on active duty in order to make up their numbers.

Nova wasn't too personally familiar with anyone in the 10th and only had a few friends from her days at Camp Adorjan that got assigned there. And those friends were mostly dead or missing. It would be undoubtedly entertaining though to see how things played out between the commander, the two colonels and the two companies.

In the end, White said something that drew her attention in most. He spoke of the need to extract an ONI informant on-location. The informant would, ahead of the assault, activate a beacon indicating his position. He would then confirm his identity to his recovery team by responding with his service number, a number which would only be made known to said team. She quickly peered over at the Staff who looked to have already pieced everything together.

Now finished, the commander made his closing remarks. "This operation will be critical to finishing off the last of the major Insurrectionist movements and their offensive capabilities. We have to put the death nail in their coffin here. There can be no room for error. Thank you."

The ODSTs rose to attention as White strode off and Garrison took his place.

"Helljumpers, I'll leave you to go over additional details on individual squad and platoon assignments. There'll be uploads provided on tactical planners at the RTETC. You're welcomed to rehearse combat scenarios you may encounter at your objectives there as well. The date of the operation will be provided shortly. You're dismissed."

The ODSTs saluted and started filtering out of the chair aisles towards the doors.

In the middle of the grumblings and whisperings of Bravo Company, Epsilon was having their own conversation.

"Hey Zack, didn't that Stewards guy used to talk with you about the Galactic Cup or something whenever we were on the maglev?" Hector asked.

Zack, desperate to defend himself, held up his hands. "Look, I didn't know he was an Innie, okay? He had good taste in Gravball teams and, what do you know, the Reach Grizzlies made it to the championships last year. It's not my fault we liked the same group."

"Wait, you know that guy?" Mito asked.

Zack shrugged. "Yeah...well, I mean-...kinda."

Hector nodded. "Yeah, we do. We fought alongside him and his buddies too back when we were still a platoon."

Mito looked surprisedly between them. "Woah, small galaxy, huh?"

"That was back before we knew what they were." Yuri added. "We can't blame 'selves for not knowing."

"I can't really blame them for not telling." Nova chimed in. "I would've shot'em right then and there the first time we met had they been so honest."

"I think we almost did." Rico noted. "I had the 319 ready that first time. I felt we couldn't trust them. What do you know, we couldn't, but did we ever?"

Nova shook her head as they moved out their row of chairs for the nearest door. "No, I don't think we did."

"I'm getting the feeling you guys are used to working with people you don't immediately trust." Renni said with a hint of a jibe.

Yuri turned back to her as they walked. "Oh come on, you're not still holding moment in sewer against us, are you?"

"No, I think I've made peace with that little session. But it's not hard to notice a pattern."

Nova slipped in next to her. "Try not to notice too much about us and a bit more about this mission, okay? Speaking of which, what do you think, Mr. Tooth Fairy?"

Their attention turned to Deaks who'd been moving with them in silence. He had mostly kept to himself. Seeing that he was now under scrutiny, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and shrugged. "About what?"

"That informant?"

Deaks looked away from her and said nothing. She really wanted to get to the bottom of why he was so shut-in all of a sudden. She turned to the Staff who was walking at the head of the group. "What do you think, Staff?"

"It's him." He said without even a hint of doubt.

"You mean Irish?" Zack asked.

"Who else?"

"Well, how do you know for sure? It could be another agent, right?"

The Staff glared over his shoulder at him, regarding him like someone his age that didn't know what two plus two equaled. "Did he ever strike you as someone that would just go missing? Without his family?"

"Well...no."

"It's him."

"But how can you be-"

"When we get him back," Nova interrupted, smacking her right fist into the open palm of her left, "I'll be sure to give him the business about working with ONI without saying anything to us, or Erica for that matter." She smacked her fist into her palm again, harder.

"We're working with ONI now." Zack pointed out as they neared the door. "Doesn't that kind of make us hypocrites?"

"Since when were you such a critical thinker? Listen Zack, we don't do this kind of stuff willingly except..." She looked knowingly over her shoulder at Renni. The former ONI agent flashed an ingenuine smile to hide her suspicious smirk. Nova returned the favor. "In most cases, anyway, it's not good for our health. That was the basic rundown we gave him when we took him to New Alexandria with us for the first time."

They passed through the door into the pinkish-orange light of evening and headed down a sidewalk.

Rico sighed. "Él no está cuerdo. He's one crazy hombre, that's for sure."

"He broke the rules so we break him." Hector insisted, cracking his knuckles. "First we get him back, then we snap his back for making us worry like this."

"Maybe he had a good reason."

The last comment made them look once more to the resigned Deaks. He stiffened under their glares and said nothing more.

Nova was going to tell him off when the Staff spoke up. "Whatever the cause, we're getting him back. Then we'll talk with him afterwards about his reasoning. Rico, you still have that device?"

Rico perked up. "Ugh, which?"

"The special one for special occasions."

Though he didn't catch it at first, the inference soon became clear to Epsilon's demolitionist. "You sure about this, jefé?"

"I'm sure. Bring it with us, we'll need it."

"Are you sure it's us that'll need it?"

"Just don't forget it."

"Yessir."

"Alright," The Staff said as he led them towards the RTETC where many of the other Bravo Company personnel were also headed. "Now let's figure out where we fit into all this."

Maecenas Vitae - Background