Chapter 21 – Mutare
July 1st, 2545 (14:30 Hours - Military Calendar)
Sol System, Earth
Sydney, Australia
HIGHCOM Facility Bravo-6
:********:
Admiral Parangosky maintained a respectful, welcoming yet suspicious disposition towards the other four persons in the room, mainly towards the one that held the same wariness towards her. That was because he understood her better than anyone else sitting at the table. The same applied vice versa. Hyper-knowledgeability of the other was characteristic of the antagonistic relationship they shared; that of equals who didn't regard each other as such. The difference between their respective spheres of influence was one major cause of that. Another that Parangosky quietly accepted was that he had to have known that her knowledge of him surpassed his in regards to hers. While most UNSC personnel were hardly aware of the reality that was her mere existence, she knew more about the most powerful man in the Human-Covenant War than most ever would. She was aware of his life before the United Nations Space Command as well as his mistakes and failures thereafter. Above all, she knew of his greatest mistake, failing to recover the log buoy of the UNSC Spirit of Fire following its disappearance during the Battle of Acadia. Even further, how he'd spent much of his later life trying to atone by providing financial support to the family of the lost ship's captain. She could list off the quantity of every credit transfer he made to them from the early 2530s all the way to last month. Such knowledge of his deepest secrets, his worst regrets, was what made her envious of him. Envious because he could actually feel regret for people that he knew he had caused trouble for. She couldn't do the same to the countless numbers she'd had to steamroll over during her time as CINCONI. That was the point, that they were little more than numbers to her. It was difficult to imagine the faces, personalities and lived experiences behind casualty estimates for even the most personable of statisticians. And she wasn't that either. The best she could do was feel a horrific price was being paid in the immediate to stave off something far more horrifying in the future. Her counterpart didn't see things the same way on that front. That was a fact. That was fine. That was why she was the head of the Office of Naval Intelligence and he was the Fleet Admiral of the Navy.
Terrence Hood, or 'Hood', 'Terrence' and as was her personal favorite whenever he wasn't around, 'That Stubborn Mule', sat on the opposite side of their granite-black, rectangular table. The table dominated much of the space in the heavily secured room. What secured it was its subterranean location beneath the Bravo-6 Building itself. It was encased in reinforced blast-plating combined with EMP-protection and several kilometers of solid bedrock. Nothing could touch them way down here besides the inevitable flare-ups of their own egos.
This newest meeting of the UNSC Security Council, HIGHCOM's highest governing body, was convened by Parangosky, with Hood's permission of course. The topic of their most recent discussion would be decided by her, or at least the first part would. The second half would belong to an old subordinate and the equally pressing information he came to convey.
She did a final scan of everyone around her.
The closest to her, on the left side of the table, was General Dellert, Commander-in-Chief of the UNSC Air Force. He was a middle-aged man with gaunt jaws, a balding scalp and a constantly wary yet perceptive disposition. Even in his officer's BDU she could still imagine him at the controls of a Longsword winning dogfights against Insurrectionist starfighters. From the way their usual meetings went, the chances were high he would agree with her on the proposition she intended to make.
Next was the man further down on her right side, Major General Nicolas Strauss, Commander-in-Chief of the UNSC Army. Compared to Dellert, he was a younger officer with a diamond jaw, a full head of jet-black hair and a permanently stern demeanor. She figured that was the same face new Army recruits saw when they met him as an instructor on Mars, or when they served under him as a company commander in the opening stages of the Battle of New Harmony. Symbolic of his closeness to the man on the opposite side of the table to her, she was betting on Strauss being less willing to concede to her points. He would be more willing to agree with her main opposition as he so often did.
Such a two-way split could and was often only settled by the other man on her right side of the table, the one that was far enough away from either side to be an incidental tiebreaker. His name was General Hogan, the Commander-in-Chief of the Marine Corps. For someone who headed the military organization most attuned to the necessities of groundside combat, he was rather large in the face and of a markedly heavier weight than anyone else in the room. However, his officer's BDU allowed him to play off his girth as muscular bulk. While his appearances were deceiving, what was blatantly clear about him was his tangent for indecisiveness whenever it came to Security Council affairs. In any other case related directly to his groundside jarheads his judgment was usually both swift and sound. Here he was a bit iffier since their decisions pertained to wider events beyond just the battlefield. He was the one she needed to convince in order to get the three fifths majority she needed. But her adversary, or rather her compatriot had to know that as well.
Being the one she was most on alert for, Hood was also dressed differently from the rest of the council. Instead of everyone else's casual officer's BDU, he bore the distinctively white uniform, white-topped cap and golden insignia of the Navy. The four golden bars and quartet of stars embroidered on each of his shoulder pads made his rank visible to anyone, adding more obvious indication to his position as the Chairman of the Security Council. In stark contrast to his youthful uniform, his aged exterior was growing increasingly wrinkled like her own. That wasn't to say he was any less sharp. Anyone who thought age was a prerequisite for feebleness was proven a fool upon a cursory glance of him. He was still strong. His was the kind of cautious strength of someone who both recognized and respected the level of power they wielded along with its attached responsibility. A man like that was notoriously difficult to deceive. That was why Parangosky was glad there was only one of him. Otherwise, she was certain ONI would be blown clear out of the water under the weight of his own drive for honesty and transparency.
She predicted Hood would take a more honorable approach while she handled things more underhandedly. Such was their dynamic, like fire and ice or yin and yang, constantly trying to checkmate the other in a conflict of visions that few in the UNSC knew, or would ever fully understand how it changed their daily lives.
With her preliminary examinations concluded, Parangosky cleared her throat. "Since we are all gathered now and have been given enough time to ponder our purposes here, I would wish to begin our meeting with the first topic of discussion." She nodded at Hood. "Chairman?"
She noticed how his eyes reflexively narrowed in response. He nodded back. "Proceed."
"Thank you." Parangosky reached and pressed a button on the underside of the table.
A holographic image flickered on over the table. Three pairs of angular, V-shaped wings and two central diamond joints appeared: the logo of Misriah Armory. As the logo commenced a gentle clockwise rotation, sections of the table slid open in front of each person at the table, revealing a datapad for each. They took them out and the panels slid back into place. The screens of the devices activated automatically, unveiling three specific files:
1) Misriah_Armory
2) Sinoviet_Heavy_Machinery
3) AMG_Transport_Dynamics
"I'd like to begin with Misriah." Parangosky said. "If you would all be so gracious, gentlemen, as to take a look."
Her fellow officers tapped the file icons, opening up to a view of the information inside. It was a dossier compiled over the last year by a number of Section I personnel. The collected data spoke for itself. She gauged their expressions as they read through the opening categories and subfiles. Much to the satisfaction of her predictions, Hood was the first to express his undesired surprise in that restrained scowl that he was always so good at controlling. The same applied with various ranges in deviation for Dellert's air of questioning disbelief and Strauss's visible sense of betrayal. The most welcomed reaction however was the wide-eyed concern of General Hogan which seemed to grow promisingly wider with each line he read.
Parangosky grinned. "As you've all seen from the report, the mercenary group that is Aegis Material Acquisition and Defensive Delivery Services has had a wide-reaching influence on our largest material providers. The number of missing shipments as well as missing ships while working in congruence with AMADDS has cost Misriah a substantive amount of material loss, and therefore, a considerable loss of capital. That should not be taken lightly given that a high quantity of our former monetary reserves currently subsidizes Misriah under the stipulations of the 2544 High Octavia Armaments Deal." She paused to look knowingly at Hood who, judging by the slight deepening of his scowl, had caught on to the personal jab. "That said, the estimates of losses provided in the financial section won't convey how nebulous this problem is for Misriah. To do that we have to look at precisely how many times these instances have occurred. If you would take a look at the Incident's List, you'll find that there were close to 67 reported incidents of AMADDS working with Misriah between the years of 2532, the year of the creation of the AMADDS' Molnar account, and 2543. With an average of 7 incidents per year, one would think this would be bad enough. However, with the agreements made on January 6th, 2544, the subsequent year and a half yielded 35 new incidents, an increase of 9 annual incidents on top of the yearly average."
"What're you suggesting?" Hood asked straightforwardly.
"What I am highlighting, Terrence, is that following your deal with Misriah there was a major increase of incidents where the AMADDS were involved with assisting the corporation in its guarding and transportation of company resources. Resources meant for us. Resources paid for on our dime that they were able to steal for their own benefit." She held out her hands graciously. "As you might imagine, that is a serious problem, especially in light of our most recent confirmation of their ties to the Insurrection."
Hood was silent for a moment, not contemplating but silently brooding that she'd put him in a corner like this. Before their real match had even started too. "Alright then. And what would be your reason for bringing this up? We're well aware that the Office was behind the operation that finished off Kirkley. Much more than that, your organization is hunting down the remainder of the AMADDS' network with the help of special Navy assets." He crossed his arms over his chest in a fashion of gentlemanly disagreement. "It seems to me that you're bringing up a problem that you've already addressed."
She hated him. At the same time, she had to respect his tact. Right then and there, he had managed to accept his partial responsibility for the affair while also shutting down her argument, or almost shutting it down.
"Not so." She protested. "It hasn't been entirely addressed, at least not as it relates to the knowing participants of this long-lasting problem."
"Come again?"
"Misriah itself is at fault here. It's plain and simple. While the AMADDS are being thoroughly punished for their involvement, at the end of the day they were really taking advantage of opportunities that made themselves available to them. They were a service, not pirates. Someone repeatedly opened the door for these mercenaries in order to get them involved. That someone is every known official within Misriah that has willingly engaged in using the AMADDS' services, from site managers to planetary branch officers to system branch officials. Perhaps this even goes as far up as the highest echelons. I'm sure Clarke Richardson, the President of Misriah Armory, cannot simply have been blind to all the going's on for more than a decade. He knew. His hands aren't clean. He had to have known what his officials were doing further down the chain of command. Either he was willfully blind to it or willfully permitting it."
"What are you recommending?" Dellert asked her. "I'm sure there's some intention behind these accusations, correct?"
"Correct." Parangosky looked between Hood and Hogan. "I requested this meeting firstly with the intention of punishing our ally, Misriah Armory for consorting with the enemy."
Hood shut his eyes. Hogan's widened.
"What matter of punishment would that be?" Strauss asked.
"That we cut their overall funding by 30% and divert it to other allied corporations more committed to transparency."
The others stiffened or balked at the suggestion; a solid indication her plan was working. She was high-balling them. She wanted to blow them out of the water with a preposterous deal that couldn't possibly be agreed to. That way they would be much more open to what she was actually going for.
Strauss tried saying something and the words didn't get out of his throat.
Hood stepped in. "That's too much. Their diminishment in funding also means a diminishment of the output of weapon's supplies we'll be able to receive. Needless to say, that would have an adverse effect on our war effort, don't you think?"
"Why punish the whole for the few?" Strauss echoed.
Parangosky pretended to ponder it. She needed to sell her support for her own idea just a bit more before dropping it completely. Anything less would make them suspicious. Side-eying an uncertain Dellert, she was assured that her most likely supporter was too off-put by the idea to stomach it. She would save her 'Knight' for now, and perceiving Hogan's hesitance made her certain that her 'Queen' piece wouldn't take any decisive actions yet either.
"Perhaps." She replied. "However, considering that most of our forces not located on the frontlines are undergoing retraining and requalification, I don't believe I'm wrong in proposing that now is the time for a brief, artificial supply shortage. If Misriah's arms supply is affected then we can focus on sending the bulk of that supply to those within systems actively within conflict or those at risk of immediate conflict. Then once we believe the company's bottom line has taken enough of a lashing and that they've learned their lesson, we'll return their funding back to full operation."
"It's...plausible." Dellert commented with a hint of trepidation as he cupped his chin.
No, not yet.
"However, it might not be feasible. Misriah is a private company but it's been almost completely cut off from the private sector. The overwhelming majority of its material goes to us. It's practically a government agency or the armament's division of the UNSC at this point. The only thing it doesn't have is the direct leadership."
Good.
"I see." She said, maintaining her thoughtful façade. "You make a good point."
Hood didn't look like he was buying any of it. His eyes narrowed on her even more. "Why did it take so long for this to get on your radar?"
"Pardon?"
"Don't play games, Margaret. You know you've been able to observe their activities for some time already, close to 13 years now. Why does it seem as if you've only done your homework on them after the arm's deal?"
Good question. She felt the urge to sarcastically applaud him for his near clairvoyant perceptiveness. She expected it and he probably expected her to expect it, which was why he watched her so closely as she responded. "It became a priority to investigate after they started receiving UNSC subsidies in abundance. They were no longer just supplying our efforts from the sidelines like before but were actively involved in bolstering our chances of winning this war. Because they were taking money out of our wallets, I thought it prudent to keep an eye on who was taking money out of theirs. With your deal it became our priority to make sure our business partners were staying honest, and this is what came up."
She was lying through her teeth. He was right to suspect her or to at least be suspicious. The Office knew of the AMADDS' involvement with Misriah from day one. The discovery was part of their less than legal observation of business transactions between all the major defense contractors since ONI's inception. They needed to know which weapons went into whose hands and who was a friend, or consistent patron of who.
Hood shook his head disapprovingly but said nothing else.
"Nowadays, the Insurrection is barely much more than a threat in name only." Strauss said. "In this case, they were guarding our shipments as additional protection, right? Couldn't it be argued then that the AMADDS were our situational allies here?"
"Not when they're also stealing our resources as well as murdering the crew responsible for transporting said resources." Parangosky sharply replied. "As was witnessed in multiple instances, the most notable and well documented being that of the Mayweather. Allies of our allies wouldn't stab them in the back, and our allies wouldn't cover up their wounds from us like this either, or at least they shouldn't."
"Whether they're observing of it or not, the fact remains that we can't afford to risk such heavy-handed actions." Hood said. "You yourself agreed with Dellert's point about Misriah's stability now that it's become so heavily dependent on our purse strings."
With those words, Parangosky now had her 'King' piece in play. Hood honestly believed that she agreed to Dellert's considerations without gauging the ramifications well beforehand. It was one spot where his foresight had failed to match hers, leaving him wide-open.
"Well...perhaps it is." Parangosky admitted.
"Then what else is there?" Strauss asked. "Obviously that's the end of it, right?"
"Not quite. We can still reduce the percentage we cut from their subsidies."
Hood deadpanned. "How much? I'm certain you're aware of the percentage drop-off range that separates the point where it doesn't matter how much you take and where it matters too much."
"That would be the 15% to 16% mark." Dellert added. "We can't afford to cut off any more support. The ripple effects on the distribution chain would be too great. Any less than that and it wouldn't affect them at all given their influence in private markets. However, guessing which amount is the right cut-off point will be a gamble, and not one I'm certain we can afford to lose."
Her Knight was now moving the way she wanted him too, working his way down to the right range of calculations she was hoping he'd reach. Now she just needed...
Hogan finally sat a little straighter, his countenance becoming more resolute after using the conversation to inform his own thoughts on the matter. "I have to err on the side of caution for this one. We can't risk not being able to arm our people on the ground. If we do this it will be us punishing the innocent with the guilty, like Strauss said."
She watched Hood's scowl subside, and with it, her Queen had moved where she needed him to. Everything was now in place. Nevertheless, she was beginning to think of taking her Bishop for a spin. She observed Strauss' increasing uncertainties measured by his mannerisms; the way he hesitated to speak and how his eyes periodically swooped from her to Hood. Perhaps she could make a different, stronger play that would ensure her victory.
"Alright." Parangosky sighed. "Since a deduction from their subsidies is no longer an option, I would like to drop it in exchange for a better idea."
Hood eyebrowed her. "Yes?"
"My suggestion is that we take all of their money and yet only a fraction of it at the same time, a fraction so small that it wouldn't affect our arms supply while simultaneously punishing our 'allies'."
The move was already made. She was simply pronouncing where she'd set the pieces.
Hood leaned back. "You mean sanctions."
"Yes." She leaned forward. "More specifically, individual sanctions."
"Who's the target?" Strauss asked.
"Targets." Parangosky corrected. "We should sanction Misriah's President Richardson. Him as well as any and every known official who instigated involvements with the AMADDS within the last 2 years and are still working for the company. We deny them their ability to make personal transactions from their many bank accounts for a short period, let's say a month. We'll tell them exactly why we're doing it as well. Afterwards, we'll release their finances and let them go back about their business."
A brief quiet resumed across the table. They spent a few seconds thinking on it. Hood was likely contemplating what she was trying to do. That was one web she wasn't about to let him escape from as she pressed him.
"What do you think, Fleet Admiral? Is it an idea worth executing?"
He met her gaze again. "A punishment proportional to the crime?" He nodded at length. "Yes, that seems fair."
The atmosphere around the table shifted almost immediately. There was now an agreement made. It was only a question of how fast the others would join in.
Dellert rather predictably said. "I agree. It makes sense."
"Yeah, that's much more manageable." Strauss noted.
Hogan, always last, nodded. "It's a yes from me as well."
Parangosky smiled. "Then we're all agreed. Individual sanctions for the responsible individuals. I suggest we give them a notification three days from now then commence them three hours after."
There was another round of agreement save for Hood. "No, we act at least one day after the notification. No earlier."
Parangosky inwardly soured a bit. Hood had returned to his position of Chairman of the meeting after her stealthy attempt to overthrow him by seizing control of the conversation's flow.
There was a third bout of agreement with Parangosky's coming late and rather begrudgingly. She had achieved part of her victory even if it wasn't exactly what she wanted.
"Now that that's settled, what else is there?" Hood asked.
The cinders of Parangosky's smile resurged. She was prepared to seal the deal after Hood's quiet counteroffensive. She pressed down her forefinger on the 'Sinoviet_Heavy_Machinery' file then, after highlighting it, she pressed the 'AMG_Transport_Dynamics' file.
"If you would, please turn to the next two files. You can open either at your leisure because this next part pertains to them both."
The holographic projection hovering over the table emitted two more symbols next to Misriah's. One was the slanted, blockish text of two letters; a white colored 'A' and turquoise 'G' connected to form the letter 'M', comprising AMG's logo. The other was a trio of green, orange and blue arrows that met at a perpendicular intersection with a long, black rectangular arrow; the logo for Sinoviet Heavy Machinery.
"As you'll see, these two are also guilty of the crime of involving the AMADDS in their resource allocations. The average range of incidents remains steady for the first 11 years like with Misriah then jumps two-fold following the arm's deal. Though we need them, it's not hard to believe that Presidents Dimitri Ivanov and Asashi Cassowari, as well as anyone that facilitated these involvements within the last two years deserve the same punishment."
Now the trap was sealed. She'd trapped them once she got them to agree to her 'lowered' standard of punishment under the exact same conditions. Once they'd done it, there was no reason to go back on it. The punishment would be more complete but also avoid the possibility of affecting their businesses. It would also shed a decent deal of bad light on Hood whose reaction she monitored closely.
The Fleet Admiral grasped his forehead and squeezed, likely in recognition of his defeat. He couldn't go back on his standards now despite that it would affect the heads of every organization he made the deal with.
Dellert perked up first. "This strikes me as the best course of disciplinary action. Now that we know how involved they've been, we should at least punish them for using these services in regards to what was meant for us. They should know better."
There went her Knight. Now for her Queen.
"I...also agree." Hogan said with a growing firmness. "If we're to apply these standards then we must apply them equally. It's for the best."
With Hogan's words alone, she now had the three-fifths majority she needed to make this a possible resolution. However, it wasn't out of range of Hood's Chairman Veto. He could still shoot down the decision in its infancy. She needed one more.
Her bets on Strauss' hesitancy won out. The Commander-in-chief of the Army broke ranks with Hood and became her long-awaited and much anticipated Bishop. "You have my vote as well. I want to ensure that the people that provide for my boys and girls are trustworthy. We can apply these rules to them now then send out a more obvious warning for them not to do it again."
And with that, Hood was powerless. The resolution was veto proof.
"No." Hood finally said. "We can't make it a hard rule after the fact of punishing them for it. We'll let the preemptive notifications and the individual sanctions speak for themselves. For morale purposes, this will have to stay out of the view of the public, something that declaring this new rule out loud will undoubtedly bring about. I'm sure you understand, Margaret."
Veto proof sure, but perhaps not logic proof.
Once again, he'd usurped her usurping of him by turning her own way of thinking against her. She more than anyone else knew the necessity of keeping inconvenient facts out of public awareness to maintain morale. Simultaneously she suspected he might also have been covering his tracks to prevent people pointing fingers at him if they found out the extent of this scandal. Then she remembered that Hood wasn't that kind of person. In fact, she knew and loved to work with those types of persons because they were easier to manipulate. But he was no more a politician than she was a saint. He just happened to be a person with a genuine heart for the people, a man with a position from which to serve them rather than the norm of making everyone else serve his agenda. She admired him for being one of those 'man of the people' types, envying how honest they could be with others and themselves. She just hated that it was that same honesty that often got in the way of her doing some less than honest things.
She finally sighed out her acceptance with practiced incredulity. "Yes, I understand."
"It's agreed then." Hood declared. "We'll parcel out individual sanctions at the same time and end them at the same time. They'll get the message." He thoughtfully tapped his finger on the table's surface as he eyed the three logos. "Now I'm going to introduce a resolution of my own. We can't punish the behavior without acknowledging its roots. The usage of the AMADDS overtime shows they've proven highly useful. It's unlikely they were chosen in the last two years though on the sole basis of their use. No, they just happened to be more available. That's another critique of that old armament deal. We'll have to begin providing these companies with a permanent base of support forces. These days more than ever they'll need them in response to the number of planets with vital production hubs that are being found by the Covenant. It's a necessity that we provide them not only with the subsidies they need but also the protection. To eliminate their need for any other sources of defense, I'm proposing that we dispatch available divisions of the Marine and Army Reserves. They'll assist them as dedicated quick reaction forces."
Hogan thought on it quickly and sounded off. "No problem. The Marines should have sufficient reserves to send to the remaining production hubs while maintaining enough for defense in the core worlds."
"Same goes for the Army." Strauss echoed.
A trace of a scowl twitched at the corner of Parangosky's otherwise patient smile. He was taking her Queen and Bishop right back from her and all in the same move. This had just become a legitimate game of two players and she could tell she didn't have a prayer of winning again.
Dellert, not missing a beat, added; "If you need additional air forces, we have plenty that can be used to better protect our supply chains."
That was checkmate.
"Perfect, they'll be welcomed additions." Hood turned to Parangosky. "And what of you, Margaret? What of the Office?"
She was in awe. He managed to turn her entire game on its head, making her feel like she'd won, and overwhelmingly at that, only for him to rally and get the final say. "The...Office will do everything in its power to assist so long as you make it clear what is required."
"We'll need ONI to keep tabs on our former offenders. We need to make sure they stay honest. Is that doable?"
Of course it was. It was so easy that ONI was also able to keep an eye on every defense contractor that violated their trust beyond the three they were discussing. Far more had done it too. One of those contractors working directly for an ONI research installation on Algolis even went so far as to implore AMADDS to guard components of some highly sensitive materials. Those were the cases she didn't talk about on purpose. She avoided them because they didn't match her well-crafted presentation; her portrayal of it being a feature of Hood's armament partners rather than the decade's long ugly spot on the underbelly of most of the industry.
"Keeping tabs is the least we can do." For once, she was being forthrightly honest, mainly due to how horrifying that statement was in its fullest depth. Thankfully no one sought to search those depths any further as Hood moved on.
"We can settle the specific dates and requirements later. Right now, we need to move this session to its next priority." He pressed a button on the table and signaled a comm unit. "Send him in."
The group returned their pads to the openings in the table and let them be sealed away. The logos of the three companies switched off just as seams appeared in the room's previously featureless white wall. The door slid open and a single man walked in.
Parangosky recognized him right away. His officer's BDU could hardly contain the air of hubris that pervaded his raised but balding head and his expectant grin. He stopped beyond the threshold to stand at attention as the door hissed shut behind him. "Good afternoon, sirs, mam."
"You can deal out your cordial greetings after your briefing, Ackerson." Hood said. "Right now, we need to get underway."
"Of course, Fleet Admiral."
The projection over the table changed again to the ubiquitous UNSC eagle insignia. As Ackerson took up a standing position at an unoccupied section of the table, the insignia switched over to the godly view of a solar system; a star surrounded by several smaller planetoids slowly rotating along its outer radius, all against the backdrop of more stars.
"This is the 51 Pegasi System."
The view zoomed in to the satellite moon of the second planet. The moon was a red, rocky dust ball with a vibrant orange atmosphere. "And this is Pegasi Delta, our program's focus for the better part of a year and the target of our newest initiative, Operation TORPEDO."
Ackerson pointed and the projection zoomed through the atmosphere to a view approaching 2 kilometers from the ground. The surface was just as red and rocky as expected with high mountains and sloping plateaus that divvied up what was mostly a region of wide-open plains. Half of the area was dominated by a lavender sea stretching out of view to the north. Lying right on its coast was what looked to be a small city. Upon closer inspection, it was actually a factory. The gathering of different structures held the vague impression of an alien citadel. There were giant smokestacks, imposing towers possibly hundreds of meters tall, webs of interconnecting pipelines feeding off the nearby sea and blue plasma conduits whose rhythmic pulse cast much of the surrounding region in long shadows. Altogether the location took up a square kilometer of coastal space.
"This is our target, a Covenant Refinery. The facility was discovered following a separate operation to gather data on Covenant ships around this same time last year. Our experimental intrusion AI, Mr. Green was able to dig through the BattleNet of the Covenant CCS battlecruiser he'd captured. What he found was this location as well as its purpose towards the Covenant's overall war effort. It serves as refueling stop, the closest our enemy has to human space. That sea of purple there is actually Pegasi Delta's oceanic reserve of raw liquid deuterium and tritium. They refine it to fuel the plasma reactors on their ships. As you've probably guessed, this makes the refinery a prime target for us. We would've destroyed it already were it not for the difficulties involved."
"I believe we were shown the specs on this next part before." Strauss pointed out without looking away from the projection. "CENTCOM tried long range nuclear bombardments which were shot out of the sky before they could do any damage, correct?"
"That's correct, sir." Ackerson admitted.
"High rates of plutonium emissions creating auras of Cherenkov radiation that are easily detectable, making any implemented stealth coating or lead lining useless." Parangosky finished the thought. "We know this, James. We don't need any more reintroductions to that part of the subject matter at hand. We only need the specifics on what you have planned."
Ackerson restrained a frown. The pride he exuded earlier seemed to quietly deflate. "Right, well, we've fully ruled out plans for any regular invasions or assaults by ODST battalions. Instead, our plan for the current operation requires the deployment of my Spartan IIIs."
"Beta Company?" Dellert asked, trying to remember those details.
"Correct."
"How many?" Hogan asked.
Ackerson took in a noticeably deep breath. "All of them."
There was a palpable response of surprise from everyone except Parangosky. Then they settled back down under the weight of the morally dimming affair that the whole meeting had turned into. Right away, Parangosky felt the flashbacks of a similar occasion. Back then the colonel had made the same request but of a different set of Spartans.
"You want the entire company deployed for TORPEDO." Hood said. "Am I hearing you correctly?"
"Yessir. Other than those set aside for the Headhunter program and Cat-2s currently on...other assignments, the entirety of Beta Company personnel will be required to see this operation through to success."
Hogan let out a heartfelt exhalation. "It's as if we're stuck in a time loop. We're just repeating history here, aren't we?"
"Not necessarily." Hood said. "Colonel, did you run your plan past Ambrose this time?"
Parangosky caught Ackerson's eye. She nodded and he felt freer to open his mouth. "We did, sir. For the last few months of their training regime, we worked with the IIIs to increase their survivability as well as provide them with the specific skills they would require for TORPEDO. This time we prepared them with an end goal like this in mind."
"...End goal?" Hood practically tasted the word in his mouth and his expression became embittered. "Right. This was our intention from the very beginning, wasn't it?"
After taking a look around the table, he set his sights firmly on Ackerson. "What's your plan?"
Now with the tense part gotten past, Ackerson took a more confident step closer to the table. He pointed at the projection, causing it to zoom back out to a system-wide view. A UNSC carrier manifested at the edge of the system within a blue envelope of space that conformed to its hull, a representation of slipspace. "At approximately 04:35 Hours, our UNSC Carrier All Under Heaven will pass by the Pegasi System. While still in slipspace, they will deploy Beta Company via tested Long Range Stealth Orbital Insertion Pods."
The ship released a flurry of pods that fell far behind it. As the All Under Heaven carried on out of the scope of the projection, the pods also stayed in the alternate space until they got within range of Pegasi Delta. Then they burst through the encompassing confines of the slipstream envelope and entered into real space. They plummeted towards the surface of the moon. Ackerson returned the view to 2 kilometers above ground level. The pods soared down to an area south of the refinery of which several close spots were highlighted in friendly yellow. "At 11:35 Hours, the Spartans will land at designated drop zones 5 kilometers south of the target. In conjunction with their arrival, several Black Cat-subprowler exfiltration crafts deployed from the carrier will secretly land in strategic locations around the assault zone. They will be their means of extraction once the company has met its objectives. Simultaneously, we'll be using a STARS Satellite Drone to assist with real-time geological navigation of the entire region for the Spartans' TACMAPS."
The projection registered the latter two points first as a set of 8 yellow 'Xs'. They landed in various positions past the southern hills that hemmed in the Spartans' landing zones. Then the small yellow blip appeared high above the battlefield, registering the STARS drone.
"Once the company has landed, all fireteams will work together to bypass any and all outskirt defenses on their way to the target. We're expecting to have the element of surprise which will leave any hostile forces unsuspecting and therefore vulnerable to being overrun and quickly dispatched. The Spartans will need to maintain their advantage of surprise until they're as close as tactically possible to the refinery."
Three hundred yellow dots emerged from the drop zones and surged across the grounds between them and the refinery. They headed along the guiding lines of several large movement arrows. These arrows eventually converged closer to the refinery. The Spartans followed suit until they were gathered within striking distance of the facility.
"Their goal is to infiltrate and destroy the refinery. They will locate its core and plant timed charges on the main coolant ducts feeding its reactors as well as the dump valve. Once this is accomplished, they'll retreat to a safe distance. They will also work to neutralize any secondary targets if possible, such as ammunition depots and methane reserves, thereby rendering any attempt to restore or defend the refinery impossible in the immediate to long-term."
The projection showed the Spartans pouring into the refinery's grounds, smashing through the red blips representing its defenders and rummaging through the facility. After a moment a large, blinking red dot appeared, prompting the Spartans to retreat from the grounds to the safety of areas to the south. Not long after, the refinery erupted in a blast of simulated flames that eliminated it from view. The smog steadily cleared, exposing a massive crater where the facility once stood.
"With their main objective cleared, Beta Company will rendezvous with the subprowlers for extraction. They will return to friendly space before any Covenant reinforcements arrive."
The yellow dots surged back south through the hills to the exfiltration crafts waiting for them on the other side. Following their embarkation, the subprowlers ascended from the battlefield and quickly rose through the atmosphere before jumping into slipspace.
"Our estimates confirm that destroying the refinery will triple the length of Covenant supply lines to UNSC controlled space. That serves to buy us an additional time of three months before the Covenant can recoup those losses."
The projection stopped and slowly faded away, beginning a silence that captured the essence of their newest discussion.
Hood was the first to address the issue on everyone's mind, the elephant in the room. "What are your casualty projections?"
A good question. From the start, Parangosky noticed that all of the hundreds of Spartans that landed also managed to return for their exfil. Simulations like these tended to downplay the actualities of combat on such a large and fast-paced scale. Hood had come to the same conclusion.
At the mention of casualty projections Ackerson tensed up by an almost imperceptible degree. "Our estimates project a casualty rate of 40% before the mission's conclusion."
Parangosky watched the rest of the Security Council run through the numbers.
"My God." Strauss said hoarsely. "Well...losing 120 Spartans in one mission is nothing to scoff at, but considering what's come before...
"I want you to believe me when I say that we've taken every precaution within our power to ensure that this does not become a repeat of PROMETHEUS." Ackerson reassured. "As I stated earlier, their training was conducted with a focus on increasing team cohesion and tactical sustainability under the most extreme and stressful of combat conditions. That was the critical flaw of Alpha Company. We've accomplished that goal for Beta's sake. Now we need to accomplish this mission for humanity's sake."
"Humanity's sake?" Hood thought aloud. His eyes looked on to some distant memories then suddenly snapped to Ackerson's. "Have you factored in any variables that could affect the mission?"
"Yes. The sole factor that could possibly affect our success is the constant presence of the enemy ships that routinely refuel within the atmosphere. They could theoretically become threats to our mission. However, we've been able to observe their arrival and departure patterns to know when the next wave will arrive. In between the arrival and departure of various battlegroups there is on average two days where there are no enemy ships in system, leaving the facility's available garrisons as its only defense."
"And where would we fall along that timeline right now?"
"This is the last day that the most recent Covenant battlegroup will be present at Pegasi Delta. After that, the atmosphere will be vacant for the next two days. That gives us the perfect opportunity to strike fairly soon."
Hood glanced conspicuously at Parangosky again before returning to the colonel. "What about visits that fall outside the schedule? Is it plausible that a battlegroup can arrive right before or during the Beta Company insertion?"
"That is highly unlikely given that we've been observing them for so long without noting any pattern deviations. The facility has shown itself to be very heavily regimented in its fuel distribution processes. For what you're proposing, the sheer amount of coincidences that will have to occur are statistically improbable if not impossible."
"But the chance is still there."
Ackerson bit the corner of his lip, one of his quirks that Parangosky recognized as him getting frustrated. "Well, sir, the chances are low. All the same, as a precaution in the case that any unseen threats should emerge, I am authorizing the usage of the Omega Three code on this mission. Any and all Spartan personnel can issue it but only under the most stringent of circumstances."
"Like the one I just described?"
"Yessir."
"So, they can break and run if they need to. Alright then." Hood nodded and looked to see who else had questions. Dellert was next.
"I have my concerns about the STARS satellite drone, mainly its faultiness when it comes down to distinguishing certain structures or land formations from each other, particularly from aerial phenomena. A number of mission reports have confirmed that the system has been observed to bare a certain degree of flaws in its topographic analyzation. The ones that come to mind include Operation BAGMAN in 2544 and even as recently as Operation CARTWHEEL this year, no less than two months ago. Not to mention a high-profile case of STARS being deployed over the whole continent of Pavia during the Battle of Actium. There the system failed to notice the Covenant dark zone hidden within the interior. In these other cases there were multiple STARS units in use, especially with Actium, and yet the problem persisted. It can be argued, colonel, that using just one drone will amplify the chance that you miss something major before you drop them in."
"It can be argued." Ackerson said. "However, I do not believe it can be substantiated in the circumstances surrounding TORPEDO."
"How so?"
"Because I helped to write two of those three prominent reports you mentioned. In the case of BAGMAN, which I was personally in charge of, the problem was found to be visual jammers that were being used by the rebels to obscure our view of that part of Epsilon Eridani IV. They managed to get away with it for a long time before we stopped them. Not to mention the adverse weather within which the ODSTs were dropped. What happened on Actium was the Covenant version of that with their own use of jammers. As for CARTWHEEL, in which I was more distantly involved, the discrepancy in topographical information that Beta Company received was similarly caused by bad weather. Put simply, there are no problems with the STARS so long as the area of observation is clearly within view, meaning no adverse weather of which meteorological analysis shows there will be none for TORPEDO, and no jamming interference, equally unlikely given that Beta will be coming in with the element of complete surprise. With no sizable disturbances or interferences being located at or around the assault zone, they will be just fine." Ackerson turned to Hood. "And even in the instance of sheer unexpected coincidence, such coincidences are astronomically unlikely."
Hood huffed. "Would it kill you to make extra certain by giving your Spartans more than a single drone?"
"No need." Ackerson proudly declared. "My Spartans are already enough. Besides, it's too late now to give them anything of the sort."
Those around the table perked up, except Parangosky of course.
"What do you mean by that?" Hood asked.
Ackerson smiled. "They're already in place, sir, the entire company."
"When?"
"They left their base of operations two weeks ago. They are currently holding up in All Under Heaven's cargo bays undergoing individual fireteam, platoon and company-sized tactical preparations."
"Where?"
"In atmosphere over the long-abandoned colony world of New Tunis less than a two-day slipspace journey from Pegasi Delta. They're simply waiting for me to give them the go-ahead. And I'm simply waiting for you...sir."
The council members looked at each other.
Parangosky was smiling but only on the inside. Her junior officer was starting to no longer pull his punches with her rival. That was admirable in its own way. Still, Hood was her rival. Not his. Who knew, maybe Ackerson's generation would have its own version of Hood. That said, this wasn't his hour just yet. Plus, the colonel was jeopardizing the operation's odds of going forward on the basis of his building contempt for the Fleet Admiral. Both his hubris and his temper had their uses, but not here. As the colonel caught sight of her, she gave him a death glare that no one else noticed. It was enough to wipe the smugness right off his face.
The second she put her subordinate back in his place she moved to ask a question of her own. "Who are you placing in command of the Spartan forces on the ground?"
The answer itself was meant more so for the benefit of convincing the others. She already knew his pick. She'd approved him herself. Given his psyche profile during his training, his growing service file as well as his adamant refusal of any offers that might take him away from the rest of his class, there was no one else better for the job.
Ackerson brightened up. "Our selected choice for the leader on the ground is Spartan B292, Tom. While any Spartan can engage Code Omega Three, Tom will be the one in overall command. He's demonstrated considerable leadership throughout his training as well as led several majorly successful platoon-related actions during a number of Beta's operations. It will not be a stretch of his capabilities to put him in charge of the entire company. I am so certain of this decision because I know his qualifications are already known to you."
The council members nodded in agreement, even Hood. Parangosky also had to admit to the exceptionalism. Despite that the Spartan IIIs were a unique existence whose lives would only ever be known by the people who sent them to their deaths, there were some so exceptional that she herself almost regretted consigning them to a life of secrecy. Tom was one such Spartan.
"So, does TORPEDO get the greenlight?" Ackerson asked.
Hood momentarily contemplated it. Parangosky recognized when he reached his conclusion as his mannerisms made it clear. A furrowing of his graying brows, a tensing of his shoulders and a grimace that said he wasn't fully contented with his decision.
"I see." He said, slowly rubbing a forefinger under his chin as if to console himself. "Because the Spartans are already in place...I vote that we commence Operation TORPEDO...immediately. We can't afford to waste a moment."
It was settled. The king was captured. Their chest game was over. She watched relaxedly as the others fell in line.
"I second it." Strauss said.
"Thirded." Hogan declared.
"I also agree." Dellert added.
They were enough on their own to settle the matter. But Parangosky wanted to have her cake and eat it too so she saved her answer for last. "You have my vote as well, colonel."
Within that portion of time between her words and Hood's conclusion, Colonel Ackerson's chest swelled, his grin returned, a fire lit behind his eyes and he became the very embodiment of the pride that drove him.
"Then its finalized." Hood announced. "Operation TORPEDO will commence immediately, the individual sanctions will be applied shortly and this session is adjourned."
The members of the Security Council all rose out of their seats. The door from before reappeared and slid open. They all walked out in order of who was closest to the door, Hogan first followed by Dellert and Strauss. Parangosky timed it perfectly so that she fell in beside Hood with Ackerson maintaining a respectful distance at the back of the group.
As they headed along the lengthy passageway to the elevator on the far side, they began passing the first of a dozen Marine Sergeant-at-arms spaced out every 15 meters on either wall. They were holding MA5B assault rifles across their chests, ready to mow down any threat to those whom they saluted as they walked past. The way Parangosky saw it, any threat that managed to make it this far down into Bravo-6 would probably find a dozen Marine guards to be easy pickings. They were more so ceremonial ornaments to the entire process. The only other possible threats down here would have to come from their fellow Marines or the Security Council members themselves.
Hogan was stuck in his own world throughout the walk, maybe pondering how he was going to arrange for the new Marine QRFs he would have to donate to the UNSC's three biggest suppliers.
Dellert and Strauss were chatting and debating about what they thought the effectiveness of the individual sanctions would be on said suppliers. It was a microcosm of what was happening right behind them.
Parangosky and Hood walked with the officiousness of their rank but with the air of old college buddies having a minor disagreement. In some respects, that was exactly what they were.
"I still don't think you were being honest with how much you knew about these companies, Margaret."
"If you have any evidence to suggest I hid anything from you, now is the time to bring it up, Terrence."
Hood side-eyed her. She returned the glare.
He eventually broke the deadlock with a shake of his head. "What's done is done."
"Indeed."
Hood peered over his shoulder at Ackerson. "Nice move, by the way."
"What move?" She asked.
"You strong-armed me back there. You both did. You put the Spartans in place well ahead of the meeting so that it would make no sense for me to say no."
"...It was a gamble."
"A smart gamble, one that paid off." He turned back to her. "I just have to wonder how many of those loaded dice the two of us have left, or any of us for that matter."
"Whatever it may be, we'll at least have three more months of it back after Beta Company succeeds."
"Yes, but will we have Beta Company back after it succeeds?"
He phrased it with a rhetorical emphasis, probably suspecting and rightfully so that she had no intention of answering that kind of question whatsoever. He had to have understood why too because he gave her a knowing look.
"You have a good day, Margaret." He said, tipping his cap to her. Then he walked along at a pace fast enough for her to no longer be able to keep up with her cane. She quietly cursed the few remaining embers of youth that his life could still afford him.
"Same to you, Terrence."
Ackerson cautiously came up beside her.
"You certainly know how to downplay a victory, Admiral."
Her evil eye returned. "And you certainly don't know how to control that temper of yours. You might be on the Security Committee but you're not on the council just yet. Remember that."
The venom in her voice made him stiffen. "My apologies, mam."
"Oh please, it's not me you'll need to apologize to after all is said and done." She checked to make sure Hood and the others were well out of earshot before speaking in a lower voice. "Keep in mind that your lying about the casualty projections might come back to haunt us later. Given what we actually expect to happen, there'll be a noticeable discrepancy that someone with as long a memory as Hood is bound to pick up on, and that's merely depending on everything going according to plan."
"Everything will go according to plan." Ackerson added, ever the reassurer of his own ambitions. "We've planned everything to the T, mam. There's no variable that we haven't accounted for. There's no need to worry either."
"I can tell you aren't, but it's my job to worry about what no one else is willing to even conceive in their worst nightmares."
"With respect mam, you are everyone's worst nightmare. They just usually don't find out the truth of that until it's too late."
"You flatter me, colonel, and flattery does not a council member make."
"Yes mam."
Parangosky took another look at her aged right hand which maneuvered her cane ahead of each step. "That isn't to suggest though that I am not the thing I worry about. I know what the future holds for me. I just don't know what it holds for you or anyone else not old enough to drop dead at the drop of a hat."
"Don't say that mam. You have to be the one to see us through to the end of all this."
"What did I say about the flattery?"
"Right, sorry."
She cracked an earnest smile. Hidden behind his hubristic candor was a master manipulator in the making. However, even if he did end up on the Security Council, she doubted his chances of taking her full throne of authority in ONI after her. That inheritance was already being allotted to someone else, someone less blinded by their own vaingloriousness and a good deal more level-headed. On that note...
"How's your protege doing?" She asked.
"Who?"
"Commander Tarkovsky."
"Oh. He's moved on to bigger things, and I plan to move on to bigger things as well. I thought you were already informed of these matters, mam."
"I am. He's moved on to HYPODERMIC. I merely wish to find out if you two have been in contact."
"If we had, you would know, mam."
She would.
He continued. "He's moved fully into his new objectives and I've also moved fully into mine. There's no longer any need for him to take orders from me and therefore no need for any contact."
"So the bird has finally left the nest then."
"In a manner of speaking."
"Yes, I see. Much is changing around us, colonel. We can only hope that we can keep up with it."
"I can only hope it will keep up with me, mam."
"Indeed."
Hogan, Dellert and Strauss were waiting in the elevator when Hood stepped in. He turned back to face Parangosky before the doors slid shut and the lift ascended.
"He won't even hold the door for me." Parangosky mocked under her breath. "What a gentleman."
In the last seconds she had before they reached the end of the hallway, Parangosky got to ponder on her various victories.
What Hood also couldn't know or ever be allowed to discover was that this was all a setup. She wanted those individual sanctions set on those high-ranking persons within those high-tier companies. Once they were sanctioned, she would approach those such as Clarkson, Cassowari and Ivanov with a deal of her own. She would provide them with an escape route of secretly freeing up some of their more offshore accounts while keeping that information away from the rest of the council. In exchange, they would agree to dedicate significant quantities of their weapon's development resources to ONI's own initiatives. Together with research capital provided as part of the Office's 'blank check' of UNSC funding, they would work to achieve various ends for Section III. One of those ends of the upmost importance would be the special 'furnishing' of ONI's newest installation, the Trident Facility.
Then there was the partial revenge she had reaped upon Robert Schonberg. While he was nowhere to be found to pay for his crimes personally, his girlfriend certainly was. Lara Zakharov and many others of Schonberg's compatriots had secretly kept working for him within the Colonial Conservationist Society to produce multiple Pele-5 units. Following the discovery by Commander White's informant, they were identified, approached and successfully detained under sedition charges. Lara and her team were facing a possible life sentence or execution depending on how the courts ruled, and how Parangosky was feeling. At least they had been facing such fates until she offered them a deal. They readily accepted it as any logical being would when faced with overwhelming power. They agreed to work with ONI as its newest assistants in reverse engineering the captured Pele-5 Land Reformer technology. Their aim was to make it more versatile and more wide-reaching in its effects. If they succeeded in their work then they would be thanked for their service and released without charges. Their names and Schonberg's would naturally be kept from ever being attached to the future legacy of such a vital technology. That all depended on however long it took them to do the job though. If they failed or refused to work for them any further then their original charges would be upheld. They could then be sentenced to life, executed or, if Parangosky was feeling less merciful, granted a one-way trip to Midnight.
She was satisfied that at least someone was getting punished in Schonberg's place and that ONI was getting some use out of them in the process. They now had their own part to play in this war of change. Moreover, they would be involved in a process that, because of her age, made Parangosky feel less and less certain about her own legacy.
Would the changes of the future be made to her or made by her? There was never a guarantee. She could influence the hand of the UNSC's military government, and to some extent she could be that hand. But what she could never be was the very hand that controlled change itself, the kind that no one could predict or escape. That was something forever beyond her grasp. Still, she always liked to imagine what more she could do if she had it, how many more lives she could save and how much more good she could do, but in all likelihood, how much more evil for the sake of good. Maybe it was for the best she didn't have such a hand, that no one did completely, but that everyone held their own small piece of it. Never enough to change everything for the better and never enough to change everything for the worse. Incremental at first, substantial in the aftermath. That was the kind of lasting change she wanted to see, and with the growing retinue of helpers and favors at her beckon call, she was able to implement it one careful advance and one precalculated wager at a time.
She followed Ackerson into the empty elevator as the doors reopened.
"Colonel?"
"Yes mam."
She watched as the doors slowly began to close again. "I would like for you to find some way to memorialize those Spartans, to remember them for what they did, and what they're about to do."
"We can memorialize them with the victory they'll win for us against the Covenant, mam. Isn't that memory the best memorialization we can give them?"
"I hope so, James." Parangosky said as the doors finally closed. "I hope so."
Mutare - Change
:********:
End of: Genesis Saga
Next: Revelations Saga
:********:
*Author's Note: Hey you guys, thanks so much to you awesome, hardcore folks that have been reading these chapters week by week. You're all absolute legends and sometimes I even wonder how in the world you even manage to do it, particularly those that read it the very millisecond that it drops. Well, I'm publishing this last chapter of the Genesis Saga on August 9th, 2021, marking today as the 1-year anniversary of Halo Feet First. I guess you could call it Halo: FF Anniversary. As this fanfic is turning a whole year old, we're going to also be entering into the second and final half of the story of these Helljumpers as they face off against the genocidal war machine that is the Covenant. Again, anyone that made it this far or makes it in the future, especially after reading all the way through from the ancient times of the Prologue, you have my full and undying respect as fellow fanfic readers and halo fans. I salute you. With that said, I'll see you in Revelations.
