Chapter 12 – Praesenti
January 19th, 2552 - (21:30 Hours - Military Calendar)
Epsilon Eridani System, Reach
Csaba Mountain Region, Viery Territory
(Present Day)
:********:
The crackle of the campfire's flames rose to a stochastic clamor as the evening wind rushed through it. The air chilled Duncan's skin but was itself not the cause of his goosebumps. He watched Renni finish her story. Like the rest of Epsilon, for a while he continued to do so in silence.
At a certain point, the storyteller herself broke out of the daze that had glued her to the dancing inferno. She looked around to the others waiting to see who would speak up first.
After a moment of hesitation, Duncan spotted Zack out of the corner of his eye. The radioman sported a grin. Seeing it brought Duncan a smidge of ease to his nerves. He could always count on him to break the ice when nobody else wanted to.
"I guess all that torture training didn't work then since you're spilling your guts to us like this anyhow." Zack said. "So your real name is Carisa, right? Good luck getting us to call you that after all this time. If you ask me, Renni sounds cooler, but I'm pretty biased."
The cold atmosphere melted away. The crew broke out of their stupor and fidgeted back to life again.
"Ugh." Hector scratched his head. "That's-...you're-...we-….I don't know what I'm saying. Somebody else say something."
"It's a lot, I know." Renni said. "Take a minute to breathe it in."
"No thanks." Rico laughed. "All I'd be breathing in is second hand smoke. That's some strong stuff there, Staff, I can still smell it."
"Yeah." Mito added. "I don't want it to get all in my clothes and everything. It'll be a nightmare to have to wash out."
"Is that everything you can tell us?" The Staff asked. Having probably figured out they were trying to evade the discussion; he was quick to get them back on track.
"That's everything I can remember."
"Then it's like Zack said, that super special interrogation training really wasn't worth much."
"It's meant for a different scenario." Renni rebutted. "It comes in handy if I get captured by the enemy, but you're not enemies. You're my squad. Friends too."
"I wouldn't be too sure of that last one." The Staff said, drawing everyone's attention his way. "You've gone through a lot. I could tell that about you from the start. Hearing your full story clears things up, but not everything."
The Staff rolled what remained of the Sweet William cigar between thumb and forefinger as he stopped to think. The topic he was searching for came to him and he pinched the cigar like an annoying bug.
"Did you have anything to do with Spartans?"
"Spartans?" Renni asked.
"Yes."
She thought about it. "You asked me this before. Remember, those sewers on Actium?"
"I do. I'm asking again because the way we approached you last time might have been too threatening. I realize that it wasn't the most effective means of getting the truth out of you, plus that chat was one-sided. Better that we have you talk here in a more relaxed setting."
Renni peered around at their surroundings. "Well, it is relaxing. The Spartans, you're referring to the ones we encountered on Actium? I mean, didn't we all have something to do with them?"
"I mean before you met us, while you were still in ONI. I'm not specifically referring to the older set like the Chief. I'm also talking about Spartans this squad has met before but not on Actium. A later generation. However, the Chief and his crew are on the overall list of people that I'm talking about. Did you do anything with them? Training perhaps or resource acquisition?" He paused. "Recruiting?"
"...Sir, I don't think I get what you're asking me. What's this later generation of Spartans? I thought they were all the same." She looked around to the rest of the squad who, save Mito, were glancing between her and the Staff like deer in the headlights.
"I guess you're clean then. Sounds like you don't know what I'm saying. So just to be sure, I'll ask this again. Did you have a hand in the training of Spartans of any kind?"
Renni checked him as well as the rest of Epsilon, gauging them, probably trying to understand where all of this was coming from. Duncan knew exactly where and he wasn't sure why the number one person who told them to stay quiet about it was intent on bringing it up.
"I haven't." Renni said. "Nor will I likely ever be involved with the training of Spartans. They're ONI alright, but they don't fall under Section II authority. I'm certain they fall under Section III, just as the Janissaries did. They handle all the special projects. I know a guy who can get you better intel on them if you want. That is if you're not afraid to get used by him later."
"No need." The Staff replied. "He already told us all we needed to know." He sighed and said in a low groan, "And he sure as hell got some use out of us too."
Renni sat ramrod straight, her curiosity and her worry visible. "Pardon me?"
"Staff?" Nova called, looking worried for another reason. "What're you doing?"
"I think you've puffed one too many clouds there, sir." Rico said nervously, nodding to the cigar. "Maybe you're a little too relaxed?"
The Staff shot him a glare that shut him up. He zeroed in on Renni. "Your friend, his name is Tarkovsky right? The super genius brat from your story?"
Renni swallowed. "That's-...yes, that's him. He's not my friend but...why do you ask?"
The Staff peered up at the stars dotting the night sky. "We met him before."
It was almost out in the open. The dam was breaking and Duncan wasn't certain how to react. He considered talking over the man, to see if he could convince him to drop the topic. The expression on everyone's faces told him they were considering it too. Then again, that would make them appear more suspicious than they already were. Plus, he could tell that despite the soothing effects of the Sweet William, the look in the Staff's eyes was still sober. He slowly realized what he was doing. This was in all likelihood the reason why he decided to pick up a habit that he'd dropped years ago. He wanted to be relaxed enough to dig up what no one else in the squad had the stomach to think about.
"How?" Renni asked.
"Epsilon, I know you have your reservations as it relates to what I'm about to say. I'm going to say it regardless. We're in the middle of nowhere and there is no possibility that the people we gave a vow of silence to will find out what we said. What happens in this forest and what is said in this forest stays in this forest, do you copy?"
In the quietness that resumed, the squad looked uncomfortably among themselves. Duncan felt the old emotions he had buried start to arise again. There was guilt there, regret too. Most palpable of them was fear. He feared for the people, for the kids they had trained. Where could they have gone after Epsilon left? What did they do? Were they even still around after all these years?
What ever happened to Beta Company?
While he consciously accepted that he would never get answers for that, seven years later and his subconscious still tried to find it in his dreams. Nightmares really.
Suddenly he recognized the need to bring it up. That part of his life was kept under wraps from his family, his friends and from his own conscious thought for a longer period of time than he'd known his own son. Like pressurized water seeking release, the memories came rushing up like a geyser, as did the understanding that he could never again regain his hold on them.
Duncan crossed his arms over his chest and made his peace. "I copy."
The others rounded on him and he refused to back down.
"I...copy, sir." Nova said.
"Yeah." Rico agreed. "Copy that."
The rest of the squad from those days followed suit.
Once they were in agreement, the Staff's eyes descended from their starry reminiscence to meet Renni's again. "I know I said I'd spill my guts to you, but I lied. I kept this part back because I wasn't certain what all you might know. After we knocked out your sister on Miridem, she had us arrested and held in the brig on the UNSC Trafalgar. I was certain she was going to get us a one-way trip to the stockade. Then your friend showed up."
"Dimitri?"
"We knew him as Commander Tarkovsky. Like you said in your story, he was in Section III. I could tell he was ONI right off the bat because the first thing he did was offer me my old weakness." The Staff held up the butt of the Sweet William. "There's no way that was a coincidence. He knew."
"He's as perceptive as always then." Renni remarked. "So why did he come to you?"
"He wanted Epsilon to assist him with what I think is the same Naval Special Weapons program that got the Janissaries shut down. It's called the Spartan III Program. They were much like the Janissaries, too young to be where they were and to be doing what Sec III asked us to teach them. They were well trained before we met them though. Just one of them could wipe the floor with a whole crew of us. They repeatedly did in our case, almost on a daily basis. The main reason we were there was to show them how to pilot the long-range stealth orbital insertion pods that your sister taught us to use for a previous mission. Not many others possessed the know-how to use those things so it made us pop up on the commander's radar." The Staff stopped to let out a troubled laugh. "I remember now. Deaks, he used to have this kid, one of the Spartans that he hung out with. Taught him how to hang teeth on strings. He was like a little brother to him. What was his name again?"
"Johnny, was it?" Hector asked.
"No, that's not it."
Duncan skimmed through his recollection of the Spartans he worked with the closest. He could clearly recall the faces of Team Zeta, most of them. Roland-B210 and Harris-B170 were forever youngsters in his mind, little boys with the bodies and souls of men. As was B312, but his face was always hidden behind the helmet of that SPI armor and the mystique of his own character. Six was a lethal introvert, much like and unlike the last member of the team, the one that Duncan remembered for the cut-throat skills of a soldier and the dicey personality of a modern pirate.
"You're talking about kid who liked playing with knives?" Yuri pointed out.
"Jonah." Duncan laughed. "B283. He was a riot alright. Real hardcase too."
"Yeah, him." The Staff chuckled. "The kid that was ballsy enough to cut someone's air supply in the middle of a hard-vac op. I mean, who does that?"
"And B320, remember her?" Zack chided, jutting his chin at Duncan. "She's the only person I ever heard of that managed to outsmart that guy on a computer. It was pretty bad too, saw him shaking when he came out of that first simulation we had with them."
"Kat, right?" Nova giggled. "She was something else."
"You don't have to tell me." Duncan huffed. "I never thought I was a genius at that stuff but she made me feel downright stupid."
Those of the old squad broke into a fit of laughter together at the old memories, the kind Duncan could sense they had never gotten the chance to joke about until now.
"It was crazies like them that made the whole experience worth it sometimes." The Staff cackled. "Getting shot, blown up or hacked, you could never tell what they were going to throw at you next. Hard to believe they were just kids."
The group was caught in the humor of its own banter. But the laughter softened as did the mirth. Soon the last of it died out and they were quiet again. The last traces of a smile disappeared from the Staff and he rubbed his head, looking thoroughly exhausted. He let out a long sigh as he stared into the flames. "Hard to believe they were just kids."
The atmosphere turned sour. To Duncan, the way the light of the campfire seemed to dance on the old crew's face showed the hidden price they had all paid for the secret. Clenched jaws, slackened shoulders and long stares that looked beyond the fire to somewhere else.
"Deaks agreed with what we were doing there." The Staff said. "He told us as much, dared us to say otherwise."
Nova shook her head but could hardly conceal her fond smirk. "Madman."
"We did say otherwise. Nova here certainly did. I let everyone make their peace, say whatever needed to be said then ordered them not to speak about it again. Makes me feel like a real hypocrite now that I'm the one bringing it back up." He looked to Renni and Mito, both of whom stood out among the gathering of the guilty like oranges among apples. "Shortly after that, we got orders for Actium. That's where our stories connect. You didn't know everything because we couldn't say it. Tarkovsky had our hands tied with non-disclosure agreements. I think he realized that he barely needed them. Conscience was good enough. Who wants to tell their buddies that they were able to dodge prison time because they trained kids to fight and die in their place? Still, here I am breaking Office rules within the relative safety of the middle of nowhere. So, what do you think?"
All eyes turned to Renni. She was utterly speechless. Amidst her loss for words, Duncan checked on Mito. Epsilon's resident samurai was no better, no less shocked than their medic.
Renni found the strength to put her lips together in mimicry of a few loose thoughts that her mind wasn't ready to voice. Soon she was talking again. "Can I ask...why you guys are...telling me all this now?"
"Spilled guts for spilled guts." The Staff said. "We're even now."
"No, as in, why at this time when...you had all those years that you could have brought me out here? You could've explained this stuff to me some time ago. Why now?"
"To be honest, it's because we ended up running into Cordova again. That little reunion you guys had was a tad unexpected. The resemblance was there but maybe I wasn't smart enough to make the connection before then. Needed a face-to-face comparison in order to believe it was more than a coincidence. 'Coincidence'. I hardly believe in that word anymore whenever it comes to Naval Intelligence. Anyway, the shock was what made it abundantly clear that we didn't know you as well as we thought we did. And...how long have we known you again?"
"That was 2545." Yuri counted. "About seven years."
"Seven." The Staff echoed. "That's a long time to not say anything that important, whether you were aware of that importance or not. However, that's also a pretty long time not to tell you about something we did. This is a trade-off. I used it to get to know you better and for you to get to know us a little better. Hopefully so you can trust us more."
"And vice versa." Yuri insisted.
"Right. Vice versa."
Renni moved to speak but her voice refused to come and she sat down, struggling to get her ideas out.
"You guys trained Spartans?"
Attention turned to Mito. He was wide-eyed, having overcome the shock and registered everything with an air of awe. "Man, that's amazing."
The old crew were the next ones to be shocked. It was not what Duncan expected to hear. For a second, he wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Believe me, it's not that amazing." Nova groaned. "It plays a number on your mind."
"Forgive me for saying this, guys, but I don't see you as being that guilty. Alright, you did something that you didn't want to. I get that. It's not like the candidates were there against their will. Right?"
Duncan thought back to his conversation with one Lieutenant Commander Ambrose back at Camp Currahee. "No. They weren't." Thinking on it harder, he pondered whether the older Spartan II, which was the only thing he could possibly have been for someone his size and age, was given a choice for himself.
"See?" Mito beamed. "No big deal."
"Good God, you sound just like the corporal." Nova laughed to herself. "No wonder you two got along so well."
"Or maybe I'm seeing things differently than you all." Mito rounded on Renni. "Hey, now that I think about it, you're upbringing was sort of like mine, you know, without the whole ONI part. By the time I could walk my dad and my older brother were training me to hold a sword. They started me out with sticks. By the time I learned how to do multiplication I already had a good idea how to disembowel a man. I also had the discipline to keep me from trying it out on random people like some psychopath. That's why I'm so good with the Murasakino. I'm guessing the same applies to you with intelligence."
"Sort of." Renni muttered. "Look, I'm sorry for not telling you guys what I knew. I didn't mean to hide it from you. Like you said, I wasn't aware of your run-ins with Cordova or Tarkovsky, or that they were this serious."
Yuri leaned in. "Its opposite for us. We meant to hide Spartan IIIs from you. Question is are we sorry for it. Answer is 'yes', mostly. I'm certain Mito might have clearer conscience than we would if he was with us then. Deaks could sleep just fine when we were with the IIIs. Never bothered him one bit."
The Staff nodded. "Maybe we can have that same peace now that we've told someone. I don't think it excuses our actions but at least we're getting somewhere. That said, Renni, I remember you spoke on that conversation you had with White back in the day. He told you there were other generations of Janissaries including himself and your other instructors. What it looks like to me is that there's a ten-year time gap at minimum between each of the different generations. That's around 40 years that the program's been functional. Is that correct?"
"Yessir, that sounds accurate."
"Interesting."
"What is, sir?"
The Staff held up two fingers. "I've got two takeaways. The first is that, calculating for the date the program ended, ONI started the Janissaries in 2495, one year after the start of the Insurrection. That's too soon to already have this much infrastructure in place for training the children of your newest enemy."
"It's Naval Intelligence, Staff." Yuri argued. "They're always prepared for crazy stuff nobody else thinks is coming."
"That's not what I'm saying. ONI was prepared but it would typically take years to execute an action plan like the kind they used to make the Janissaries. It's too convenient."
"The Carver Findings came out in '91." Renni pointed out. "Wouldn't that account for the time discrepancy?"
"No. I wasn't around for that and neither were of any of you, but from what people told me, the Carver Findings weren't taken that seriously by most in the UNSC. Not until the 2500s. Maybe it was just ONI and the people higher up the ladder that listened before then, not your everyday joe. Still, something's off. Let's factor in that graduation exercise your class had to do. The elites like Tarkovsky infiltrated the government. Why would you need to learn or practice espionage on government institutions, specifically those that you're employed to serve under the ordinary chain of command? That doesn't sit right with me."
"What're you saying, Staff?" Renni asked. Everyone else listened in, thoroughly curious as to what he was aiming for.
"It seems like the Carver Findings and the timing of the program itself were excuses, the type you use to cover up the fact that you're brainwashing children into hardline loyalists. To turn them into the person that the Office can trust with its highest classified projects, operations, initiatives. All without any concern for accountability to a higher power outside the agency." The Staff scrutinized the squad's medic. "If I didn't know better, Renni, I'd say you and everyone you knew were part of a massive power play. You'd be the key to getting your benefactors the greater autonomy and control they would want over society."
Duncan was lost. He took a second or two to think harder on it. "You're saying ONI's trying to take over the world, Staff?"
"That's the gist. However, it's not the real question that I'm asking, is it Renni?"
Renni had sat back on her hands. She looked relaxed, so much so that Duncan thought she hadn't heard the question. Then a knowing smirk crossed her lips that let him know she had.
"'Am I wrong?' That's your question, right? I'm going to be honest with you, Staff. You're probably right on the money with that one. A few of us came to the same conclusion while we were in training. It didn't sit well with most. Even so, it did sit perfectly fine with the guy who was the first person I remembered to suggest the theory. As far as things went at Topkapi, his assumptions were gospel."
The Staff laughed at her hidden meaning. "It was Tarkovsky I'm guessing?"
"The one and only, and thank God for that."
"He doesn't strike me as someone who's afraid of increasing the agency's reach. More like a guy that's happy to help."
"He sure is. You're not the first to think they're after de facto domination of the UNSC and UEG, sir. If this kind of information ever gets out, you won't be the last either."
An uncomfortable noiselessness passed wherein Duncan struggled to get his bearings. The Office trying to gain control of the system? Now that he contemplated it, the theory wasn't that far-fetched. At that moment, all of the talk about ONI reminded him of an old conversation. He lingered back to his stay with the AMADDS, the undercover mission that almost got his family and himself killed. The op that made him promise Commander White it would be the last he ever did for the agency. He saw the events play out as they did years ago. The escape from Kroedis II, coming aboard the Mayweather, staying in the med bay with the most interesting rebel he never wanted to meet.
Sleepy eyes.
A constant smile.
Perpetual pain.
"My second takeaway," The Staff began. "Is that it seems as though the Janissaries as a program are older than the Spartan IIIs, maybe even the Spartan IIs as well. I'm going out on a limb here but it seems the Jans may be partly responsible for their creation. My logic's based off a connection I'm seeing. The IIIs of Beta Company that we met weren't that old, basically still children. However, there was one previous group that Tarkovsky hinted at. Let's call them 'Alpha Company' for chronological consistency with the Greek alphabet naming scheme that they've got going on. Apparently, they were the same special forces that the old 1st Platoon ran into on New Constantinople back in '37. Beta was right about to graduate before we left them and they had trained for six, going on seven years. It's probable that the previous company had close to the same amount of time invested into it. That's at most 14 to 15 years, so the program must have either started in 2530 or 2531."
The Staff paused as he arrived at a spot in his logic that made him hesitate. "In fact, there's been more enough time for them to train or still be training a third company. A 'Gamma' Company if you will."
Suddenly the Staff was making far more sense than Duncan wanted him to. The possibility that a third company might be receiving training on Onyx chilled him to the bone. It rattled his fatherly instincts which had become more pronounced since then. Nevertheless, right or wrong, there was actually little to stand in the agency's way of making a third company. They had done it before. They did do it again. A third attempt seemed likely.
"Oy, gracias for the nightmare fuel there, Staff." Rico whined. "Much appreciated."
"That's not my intention, trust me. I'm trying to piece these things together. We might not get another moment of clarity like we have now. We should make the best of it."
"Okay, 2530 or 2531." Hector noted. "What does that have to do with the Janissaries?"
"That's the thing. It doesn't. It doesn't have anything whatsoever to do with the Jans directly except that they line up too perfectly. Renni's story matches those of the IIIs we trained. Their experiences aren't identical but they are fraternal if you catch my drift. Let's get to the IIs, the kind that I believe we encountered on Miridem. They had very different armor from the type we saw on the IIIs. Tarkovsky all but admitted to their existence in the briefing he gave us. The leader of the IIIs, LC Ambrose, looked to be part of a completely different generation than those he was in charge of. By his looks, he couldn't have been more than in his early to mid 30s. He couldn't have been born before 2510. I have a hunch that the IIs went through a similar treatment in terms of the age that they were inducted into their program. It would explain why ONI gave us the impression that it was used to selecting minors. You can't train before you're born, right? So let's say the IIs had a similar age range to those we saw with the IIIs. We'll use 2510 as a definitive marker for when the II's program may have started. Compared to the Janissaries who began around 2495: that's a 15-year gap. There aren't that many Spartan IIs either if you consider how many IIIs we saw in Beta Company. Yet we can't ever seem to stop running into Blue Team or meeting people who have. The most that we saw of those set was one or two dozen on Miridem, remember, when they saved us from that counter attack at De Gaulle? Even Alpha Company came with bigger numbers than that on Constantinople-"
"Um, hey Staff?" Zack murmured, trying to keep his head from spinning. "I know you're a sleuth and all and you've probably thought about this for a while now but I didn't join the ODSTs to crunch a bunch of numbers. I wanted to drop out of high school just so I wouldn't have to. You sound like you're figuring out a crime scene over here."
"You might not be wrong about that crime part." Nova suggested. "Oh, and joining up to not crunch numbers? That's rich coming from the guy who has to do mental math every time he calls in an airstrike."
"Yeah, see, that's different. That type of math is actually fun. Since when did your teacher ever show you how two times two Longswords equals 80 kills?"
Nova rolled her eyes. "You were saying, sir?"
"Back on topic. Alpha and Beta were both bigger than the number of IIs we encountered. Even so, the Spartans people customarily run into are the IIs, the older generation. ONI's decision to talk about them openly in '47 has gotten their encounters a lot more press coverage. People aren't as shocked to run into them as they were back in the day. It's more like a pleasant surprise to see them now. But you never see the IIIs. It's never those guys on Waypoint. The best run-in I can think of is the events of '37 and that's still not been officially explained as to who they were. The IIs get coverage. The media seems to ignore the IIIs altogether."
"Ah, the media." Renni clicked her fingers. "You have us to thank for that. Rather, you have Section II. They take care of things like this that concern public relations. People know about the IIs because ONI decided they wanted them to know they existed. To raise people's hopes and all that. I can't say the same for these IIIs. Whatever their main purpose is, it's obviously different from their elders. My guess is it's not something the Office would want people to find out about. No doubt for good reason. One of Sec II's main responsibilities is maintaining morale. If the new Spartans are kept secret regardless of what's going on with those like the Master Chief or your Lieutenant Commander Ambrose then that suggests one thing fundamentally different about them. Whatever the IIIs do, whatever it is they're really meant for, if normal people ever found out about it, it wouldn't be good for public morale. Sec II can't allow that to happen under any circumstance. That's probably why the media coverage is so one-sided."
Again, Duncan found an unpleasant taste in his mouth. Not from anything he'd ate, rather from everything he'd heard. His heart ached a bit and he felt a sickening feeling, like a hand reaching into his body and twisting his stomach. The faces of the Spartan IIIs, Teams Foxtrot, India, Zeta and the others flashed through his mind. Now he really wanted to know what had happened to them and he feared he would never have peace again until he did.
"I see." The Staff said in a manner that captured the grimness that the rest of the squad appeared to be grappling with. Not even Mito seemed happy with his own view. "Tarkovsky never told me what happened to Alpha. He clammed right up when I pressed him on it, said he would be obligated to kill us both if he told me. I guess that was for the same reason Section II avoids their coverage."
Renni perked up at the news, perhaps surprised her old acquaintance would say such a thing. She said nothing. Neither did the rest of the gathering as the crackling of the flames and the pressure of the questions they couldn't answer crushed them into silence.
"And the Janissaries, sir?" Zack asked, sounding genuinely interested. "What's their connection to this? You started this whole investigation. I think I'd sleep better tonight if you finished it."
Here was Zack for the win again, never one to be trumped by things like being quiet.
The Staff rubbed his hands together, eying them as if he were seeing them for the first time, as though the secret to his conclusions lay hidden within them. "Right...right. The Janissaries had a specific purpose. So did the Spartan IIs and IIIs. The IIs started no sooner than 2510. There's that 15-year gap between them and the beginning of the first class of Janissaries. Leads me to believe that-"
"Have you ever heard of something called the ORION Project?" Stewards asked.
The captain hadn't said it. Duncan had. Yet with how clear the memory came to him, it felt as if Stewards had spoken those words himself.
The squad turned to him and he set his sights on Renni. "Well?"
"The what?"
"The ORION Project."
She gave a slow, confused shake of her head that instantly worried him. He wished she could have explained it better than he could. The details fell fully to him and the squad seemed surprised with what he knew, albeit ready to learn.
"We're breaking a lot of non-disclosure agreements tonight. I'm going to break one more. Is that okay?"
Hector shrugged. "What's said in the forest stays in the forest, right Staff?"
"That's right. Go on."
Duncan took a breath while he relived his time with the AMADDS. There were more familiar faces there, most of them dead or captured. Looks of betrayal, hatred and sadness stared back at him. He forced them aside to focus on the one that was always smiling.
"During my time undercover with the AMADDS, it was after this op that went sideways that I got a personal audience with Captain Stewards. It turns out he had this regressive genetic disorder that left him in a constant state of pain. He told me himself that he had his own parents to thank for that because he was the child of two Spartans, making him a 'Spartan 1.1', or so he said."
Duncan stopped at seeing the squad go screwy faced.
"The child of Spartans?" Yuri squinted. "I never even thought they could have kids."
"Apparently they can." Hector said, still sounding unconvinced.
"Believe me, he had the physical condition to prove it." Duncan insisted. "I saw him take down a goliath of a security guard and drag him around like he was a dead puppy."
Zack whistled. "Geeze, he killed a puppy? Glad I never messed with that guy."
"No, I'm making a-"
"I know what you mean. On a serious note, I'm happy we never had to fight that freak."
"Yeah. Anyway, his existence alone lends credence to what he was saying. He told me this ORION Project was started by ONI in the early 2490s."
"The same time as the Janissaries." Renni noted, eliciting a greater interest from the squad in what he had to say.
"Exactly, if not slightly earlier. Stewards didn't clarify whether they were officially called Spartan Is or not. I think they would have called them ORION candidates like how they called Renni's crew Janissary candidates. They were biologically augmented too to a greater degree. They had the same basic purpose of countering the earliest movements of the Insurrection. If I had to say how ONI might've planned things out, the Janissaries were meant to handle the intelligence gathering side of things while the ORIONs took care of counter-insurgency operations. Both are prongs on the same trident of a plan meant to bring the fight to the rebels."
The Staff pointed at him. "That's it. I think you found the connection I was looking for."
"Sir?'
The Staff clasped his hands together with the confidence of a man that had finally solved an ancient riddle. "ORION helped ONI dip their toes into the super-soldier idea. The Janissaries helped them experiment with the possibility of inducting and indoctrinating children into the service. Both of those experiences may have, no, almost certainly culminated in the Spartans we know today."
"From child spies it's only a small jump to child soldiers." Renni thought aloud. "God, you might be right."
"I hope I'm not. I feel like I'm standing on top of a lot of bloody secrets right now."
Duncan noticed a slight shake in the Staff's hands despite how the rest of him was rock-solid.
Epsilon's leader glowered at the campfire. "They took children off of war-torn streets under the rationale of using them as assets so that they wouldn't have to kill them later as enemies. They augmented adults and ended up creating a whole new type of human being, one of whom has it in for them. And they didn't stop there either." He ran a hand through his hair and grasped his head, a frustrated grin manifesting between his palms. "If I'd known all of this, I don't think I would have ever agreed to signing us all up for the job we did. Tarkovsky could have kept his cigars. He could've kept his offer too. I should never have taken you guys into that. If I hadn't..."
Duncan understood where he was coming from as did the others. The Staff's guilt was palpable. So was theirs. He tried searching for some word of encouragement or switch of topics. Nothing came. Neither did the squad find a way to escape the newfound heaviness.
Except for Renni.
"I-, it's okay, Staff." She said. "I-...I'm sorry you had to live through those things. You shouldn't have been forced to do what you did."
A sarcastic laugh escaped the Staff's lips. "Forced? No. No-no-no, sorry Ren, but that's not what happened. We chose this, or at least I did for everyone else."
"You had no choice."
"Would you say the same thing to your instructors, the people that trained you? To apologize for what we went through is the same as saying it to them. How much did you appreciate what they did to you? You ran from them, didn't you? How're we-, how am I any better than that?"
Renni hesitated for a while. Against the odds, she pulled out a smile. There was mercy in it. "Because after all this time you still feel this way about it. The fact you feel different than they would is what makes you different from them."
Duncan was hanging on her words now. He could tell the rest of the squad, eyes glazed, backs bent, were just as hooked and just as convicted.
"You still have a conscience." Renni said, sniffling. "Sometimes that's good enough."
It was the honesty with which she said it that struck Duncan in his seat.
Within the glow of the fire, past Renni's smile, he saw other faces there. He saw the Spartans there that he'd trained. He saw the AMADDS there that he'd laughed with. He saw old friends that he'd been forced to abandon. They were all sitting there by the fire saying the same thing as Renni.
He felt the heat in his chest rise up behind his eyes. He would have broken down right then were it not for his restraint.
Epsilon watched her like she was a ghost of specters long gone. Duncan sensed the same reminiscence from them.
The Staff pulled his hands away from his face. Duncan was immediately taken aback at the sight of the tears that had welled up in his eyes. He was holding them back without sign of strain so that it was hard to believe they were real. They were there nonetheless.
"We were given two options." He said, his voice hoarse. "To work for Section III or risk facing a firing squad. If I could choose now, I would have taken the firing squad for myself. Except I couldn't choose for myself alone. I had to choose for everyone. By then, we'd lost almost the whole platoon. I decided I'd had enough of losing people I cared about. I made the decision thinking I was saving all of us. Look where it got us."
Renni stared at him with a care that could not come from a subordinate but from a friend. "That's your conscience, Staff. It's still there. You're all still there. You can still feel. If that's not important when everything in this war is said and done, I don't know what is."
He looked her straight on. "You think so?"
"Yessir."
"We made that decision with you, Staff."
The group rounded on Nova. She was staying strong but was on the brink of something herself. "You no longer counted as our leader once we were in that brig. We were prisoners then, not troopers. There was no need to follow you...and we did anyway. We chose it just like you did."
"She's right." Yuri said.
"Straight shooter as always." Rico agreed.
"We followed you then, sir." Hector added. "We'll follow you now. Even if it's back to those months we spent with the IIIs. Nothing's changed."
A couple nods and agreeing stares showed the old crew shared the sentiment.
"Same here, sir." Mito said. "I know I wasn't with you guys then. If I was though, I would've been happy to let you take the lead."
"He's not here." Nova remarked. "But I know Deaks would have said the same thing if he were, and strangely enough, both him and me would've finally agreed on something. No doubts about it."
The Staff took a second to look at each of them individually. For the first time, Duncan could see the tired man that sat behind his superior's gaze. A tear streamed down out of the Staff's control, quickly followed by a second. His frame shook with what Duncan thought were sobs. But then they started to build into a chuckle. Soon he was laughing aloud, clutching his chest, and the tired man from before vanished.
"You guys...you're a real bunch of crazies, aren't you?" He asked.
Yuri grinned wide and proud. "We're Helljumpers, sir. You shouldn't expect anything less."
"If we're not busting balls with the devil on a daily basis then we don't deserve the name." Hector reasoned. "But I'm pretty sure Ivan here wants to bust his own with somebody else, right Matchstick?"
"Da. Wait, what?"
The Staff laughed again and this time the rest of the group joined in. Yuri scowled at them. He would have told them off were it not for an empathetic glance from Renni that convinced him to tag along.
The heaviness passed. The moment endured for a while. Then it too passed as they calmed down. The resulting silence was nowhere near as loaded as it once was.
"You know, at first I thought I was selfish dragging you guys along." The Staff said. "Now I find out you're all just as selfish as me." The beginnings of a lasting smile etched itself on his face. "Thank you, all of you. I mean it."
"Anytime, sir." Zack spoke for everyone. "Anytime."
The Staff let out a long breath that signaled his next move. "Alright, troopers. That's enough therapy for one night. Maybe for a lifetime." He arose off his boulder, triggering the others to do the same. "Let's head back to base. You've got some sleeping to do and I have some plans to make for tomorrow's PT schedule.
"Nooooo." Zack groaned. "Come on, Staff. Don't do this to us."
"I haven't done a thing to you yet. Its tomorrow."
"Why not let us take a break? We've just gone through so much, am I right?"
"What do you mean?" The Staff grabbed a pail of water from behind his boulder and hefted it. "That was your break." He tossed the water onto the fire, dousing it with a sizzle. "Let's go folks. Back to the Hogs."
The Staff got them moving. Leaving the gathering of logs and boulders, Duncan felt unusually lighthearted. The conversation had dislodged a pain he had tried to learn to live with. While it wasn't completely gone, the relief itself made him question how he'd managed to live like he had for almost a decade. His mind was a little clearer than it was before. For better or worse, though he believed for the better, he felt free again.
:********:
Renni moved with an unfamiliar calm. She noticed it in the squad as well. They had the bearing of a very different group of people than those she'd grown used to. The atmosphere between them was far more relaxed in their departure than it was in their coming here.
She was thankful for the night. As strangely as it began, stranger things had happened to her. This was an unusual event that had worked out for good. She would never have imagined that her squad had such deep secrets. Neither could they have imagined hers. Ultimately, they had learned a good deal more about each other and themselves in a way she hadn't seen coming.
That they decided to pull down the hidden walls between them was a major help. She knew more about the people she was working, living and fighting with. She felt she could trust them more as a result. And hopefully, like Yuri had said, that growing trust would apply both ways.
:********:
The Staff hurried them to the Warthogs, ordering them to leave the plateau one vehicle at a time. They would have to head out in five-minute intervals to avoid being seen coming back together. Coming so far only to be caught because they let their guard down would be the worst outcome. The squad understood this perfectly and stayed in place as he hopped behind the wheel of his Hog.
He got his foot on the accelerator, his hand on the ignition and stopped. He stared out at the scenery one last time. The old gathering spot was returned to the darkness of the night. However, his memory brightened up the scene.
He watched as Warthogs wheeled down to the spot. Other ODSTs hopped out, dressed in casual singlets and their regular fatigue pants. They carried out plates, utensils and a grill.
Captain Harper was there. She jogged towards the rocks wearing a pair of shades and hefted a pack of drinks under her arm. Behind her, the towering and powerful Joels followed her with a massive cooler loaded atop his shoulder. As the rest of 1st Platoon laid down their cargo, Harper and Joels stopped halfway to the meeting point. They turned and hailed him, shouting for him to hurry up.
A younger, rookie version of himself dashed around the hood of his Hog and ran after them. The Staff noticed that he had a cigar glowing in the corner of his mouth which Harper and Joels told him to get rid of as he caught up to them.
The Staff held up the butt of the Sweet William and examined it. He felt comfortable enough to do what needed to be done. He savored the memory for a moment. When he was finished, he flicked the cigar out of the Hog and started up the ignition.
:********:
The first Warthog will drive away from the gathering site. The rest of Squad Epsilon will leave five minutes after each other.
Commander White's observations played out just as he'd predicted. How could they not? The squad had said they intended to do as much, or at least their squad leader did. The man had a high level of discretion. He wasn't an NCO that an officer could afford to ignore. His sixth sense that ONI could be watching them, along with the precautions he'd taken, were well-founded.
Well-founded did not mean effective.
"Staff, Staff, Staff." White sighed. "We're not bugging your clothes or anything like that. Why would we need to when we can just tune in from orbit?"
From his console station in one of Section I's many non-existent operational sites, he watched the central projection screen hovering in front of him. His left hand held up a fresh mug of coffee to his lips which he sipped with half-hearted interest. He was more invested in what his right hand was doing as he typed across a holographic keypad, summoning up several sensory modulation applications to display themselves simultaneously. Their individual outputs partitioned the screen into three sections. The olfactory modulation software notified him of the new traces of hydrogen, synthetic silicon and carbon traces in the lower atmosphere, offering a 98% match with the fuel profile of a Warthog's engine. The visual sensors showed up in a different screen, displaying the heaven to earth view of a region of Reach a few kilometers southwest of the Csaba Mountain Range. It had zoomed in to the requested magnification that left only the plateau on which the Warthogs of Epsilon remained. White watched the lead vehicle take off and head down a dirt road.
Aside from the visuals, it was what the auditory modulation captured that confirmed his suspicions. The voice of Staff Sergeant David Atell came through, causing the auditory waves to vacillate at each syllable of "See you back at base." He had honed the listening software so well that the interference from the blare of the Hog's engines was almost muted. What remained was a harmonious sound file with a duration of '58:37'. Nearly an hour of what White deemed the most damning conversation he had ever heard, something he had ONI's nigh omniscient foresight to thank for.
Reach was a planet that was understandably accustomed to surveillance. It was the seat of power in the inner colonies for the UNSC and a major commercial hub for humanity. Maintaining visual security was an absolute necessity. This especially became the case during the prime years of the Insurrection. The need for orbital reconnaissance that could surveil and counter rebel activities was an essential. No clearer example of such a need was demonstrated more than in 2524 when the luxury starship, National Holiday, was bombed by two unmanned orbital taxis. The plot that tore the massive liner in half and led to the deaths of thousands of crew and passengers was discovered to have been accomplished by an Insurrectionist cell. The group used a private satcom link with the taxis that allowed them to pilot the spacecrafts to their intended target. Tragedies of that magnitude could not be allowed to repeat themselves. Thus, the Oden's Eye observation unit was born.
'Oden's Eyes' as they were called were the classified brain child of one of the rare joint initiatives between Sections I and III. The observational devices were capable of long-distance monitoring of happenings in star systems abroad as well as events on a local planet's surface. The best signal interdiction and sensory detection equipment were hybridized together to make the Eye, creating a device that could tap into virtually all satellite communications, private and public, regardless of their level of encryption. Nothing on the surface of a planet or in the far reaches of space was hidden so long as it remained within the maximum visual range of 10 lightyears. Many of these Oden's Eyes were planted onto UNSC as well as civilian satellites like parasites, usually without the knowledge of those responsible for the launch of said satellites. Their atmospheric proximity gave ONI free reign over the goings on of the planet. Reach had the most Oden's Eyes, numbering somewhere close to several dozen. Most were deployed to view the regions with the greatest population densities. There was little said or done both on or around the planet's major centers of civilization that wasn't recorded by the network's plentiful AI shepherds. All the data they collected was filed in regular reports to Section I.
The specific unit that White utilized, an Eye named 'The Chaplain', was among the few that monitored less populated areas. It was mainly responsible for surveillance of the Csaba Mountain Region. It maintained constant vigilance of the surrounding area but paid close attention to the ODST battalion headquarters constructed there. Aside from watching troopers go about their daily lives, The Chaplain also helped to keep an eye out for certain priority individuals.
Epsilon was that priority, a band of outsiders that had altogether gotten themselves involved in one-too many of the agency's affairs. They were too useful for their own good which was why they were so dangerous. Dangerous in the respect that they knew far too much. Being involved in multiple operations with Section I, II and III provided them a wider range of access to information about ONI activities than most other rank and file could imagine. This was exactly why Section I thought it prudent to keep eyes on them whenever possible. They were always observed, whether it was through security cameras secretly tracking their movements at Falchion or listening software discretely recording their private communications online. White himself posed a few doubts over the necessity of keeping the squad under watch, thinking them loyal enough to leave alone. His superiors were of a different opinion. Theirs was the reason why a dedicated team of Sec I agents along with a smart AI, one of those that took care of the Oden's Eye network, had spent the past several years listening, recording and assessing everything Epsilon said and did. They were busy with those duties up until recent events pulled their manpower elsewhere. In their absence, the observation work fell to White. How convenient was it then that the squad would choose now to 'spill their guts'.
He was working on an intelligence report on a separate issue when he was alerted by the system's resident AI, Merlin, to come see the new activity. The long-bearded, fifth century wizard of Welsh legend got him up to speed as they went to the listening post's console station.
Merlin noticed the strange behavior of the squad by how they departed from Falchion in pairs, using their Warthogs to travel in the same direction over the course of the day. They also stopped halfway there to take out changes of clothes for themselves before proceeding to the plateau.
The behavior was worthy of scrutiny and he decided to pay it his full attention the second he reached the station. His suspicion turned to worry when he realized they had saved a certain former lieutenant for last. He soon learned that his worries were justified as she arrived at the gathering place and eventually unveiled everything.
Her story was a familiar one. The problem came from who she was sharing it with. The abhorrent breach of information security did not stop there either. What followed was an avalanche of non-disclosure violations and classification breaches that the commander hadn't seen coming. He suspected Epsilon had experience with ONI before they met him. His conclusions didn't stop him from the shock of learning the true extent of their involvement with Section III.
They had trained Spartans?
He was surprised to find out Colonel Ackerson, the black sheep liaison officer of ONI's upper echelon, was willing to entrust outsiders with his beloved program. The breach of confidentiality with regards to the ORION Project made matters worse. Iris' experiences with the Insurrectionist child of Spartan Is was helping his squad put one too many pieces of the puzzle together. Their accumulated knowledge made them into a massive intel security threat, the likes of which a reasonable Section I officer would be obliged to have assassinated.
However, that was not what he planned to do. Unbeknownst to anyone else, that was far from his intention.
He watched the second Hog take off five minutes after the first. Believing the conversation was over, he used his keypad to end the sensory recordings from the Oden's Eye.
"Sir?" Merlin asked as he flashed into being on a nearby holo-tank, his grayish glow emanating off of his robes. "What are you doing? We need that evidence."
"No, I don't think we do." White calmly replied. He responded to the old druid's confused look with one of his own; satisfaction. "Are there any other Oden's Eyes listening in to this sector of Reach?"
Still bewildered, Merlin shook his head. "This is the only one focused on the Csaba Mountain Range, which is why I don't understand how you could stop-"
"Good. Upload the recordings to my personal pad. I want everything you picked up starting with the first bit of anomalous behavior you noticed."
"Ugh...um, alright then commander. Question, will that include the tracking of their neural interfaces?"
White sipped his coffee and enjoyed the mild presence of hazelnut that helped take the bitter edge off the caffeine. "Everything means everything, Merl."
"Understood." The druid's gray vibrance briefly dimmed. White watched his pad vibrate atop the console station at the reception of the data files.
"Thank you."
"Will that be all, sir?" Merlin asked.
White picked up on the nervousness in his tone. "What's got you so worried, Merl?"
"Worried? Well, there's the fact that you stopped the data stream when there was still possible evidence to be gleaned. I just hope the higher-ups don't call for an examination of me during Epsilon's court-martial if they find out I didn't record everything I could." Merlin put his hands to his back and pushed, causing several loud cracks from his digital spine. "I'm approaching that age, you know. I'll be celebrating my sixth birthday next week."
"You'll get to enjoy your birthday." White assured as he took another sip and rested his mug down. "And don't worry, you won't remember any of this."
"Pardon?"
"Initiate deletion of all logged recordings of Epsilon's movements from the past 24 hours. Include all rudimentary backups saved to your personal database. Leave no traces behind."
"But-, but commander-"
"That wasn't a request, Merl, it was an order."
"Commander," Merlin said sternly. "Might I remind you that my primary job here is to always keep all files on hand. I have a standing directive to maintain data continuity at this post."
"Right." White said, sounding remorseful. He sat back into his chair and eyed the AI like he would a friend he had wronged. "Sorry about that."
Merlin relaxed a bit. "It's alright. I understand you wish to protect these troopers. Sadly, they've crossed a line that they can't come back from. Its best if we-"
"Artificial intelligence MLN-7552-2, initiate Countermanding Directive A-71-7552-2."
Merlin froze.
White watched him stand utterly erect like a man paralyzed. Merlin's mouth gaped. He tried to say something but failed to get a word out. The AI's visage dimmed by a more pronounced degree than before. Then his avatar vanished. The screen in front of White deactivated. Merlin reappeared a split-second later, looking like he'd just come away from a pleasant afternoon. He looked up at White and smiled, surprised.
"Good evening, commander. When did you get here?" He peered back at the empty screen. "Oh my. So sorry, sir. If I knew you'd be coming to observe personally, I would have prepared the system for you."
"No need. I only came here to check-up on you. Anything unusual to report with regards to those troopers?"
"No, commander. Epsilon has continued with its usual routine today. It's not that interesting, really. All they do is train all day every day. They're almost too predictable."
White rose from his chair and pocketed his datapad. "Are you saying you're getting bored around here, Merl?"
"No. I'm simply saying things could be a little more interesting if something unexpected could happen every now and again."
"I hear you." White sipped down the last dregs of his coffee. "Me personally, I prefer things to stay as normal as they can. No need for upsets if it can be helped"
He turned and started walking to the observation room's exit. "I'm off."
"Take care, sir." Merlin waved. "Hopefully I'll have the same mundane news to report to you later, as always."
"Hopefully."
On his way out, White considered how much he had kept secret, not only from the outside world but from ONI itself. It was no easy feat in the slightest. Trying to keep it up was part of the reason why his hair had lost its youthful color so early in his life. That and the unintentional effects of the endocrinal mutations wrought by the augmentations he had received as a child. The price he had paid for silence then could not match the price he was willing to pay now to keep this out of his superiors' hands. The lives of everyone in Epsilon depended on it.
He hoped that with the end of their discussion it would mark the last time they would risk talking so openly. His listening post wasn't the only one out there. For their sake and his, their continued silence would determine whether they would remain safe until the time came that he could make his next move.
Praesenti – Present
