Hello again everyone, I am IX404 and welcome back to my Halo/MechWarrior-BattleTech crossover.
Thank you all for your wonderful patience and support. I deeply appreciate it.
Now we come to the start of what could arguably be considered, in the Halo universe, the war to end all wars. From here on out, things are going to be nasty, especially with the SLDF's involvement.
Either way, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did.
As always, leave a review and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Halo or MechWarrior/BattleTech franchises. They are the respective properties and trademarks of Microsoft Studios, 343 Industries, Bungie, FASA Corporation, FASA Interactive, Catalyst Game Labs, WhizKids, Piranha Games Inc., etc. Any material original to the franchises belongs to their respective developers and publishers. Any material not original to the franchises is of my own invention. I do not own any music listed in each chapter. Any music listed belongs to it's original composers and/or artists.
BattleTech OST – Wolf at the Door
Sabaton - Sarajevo
Harvest
UNSC Walk of Shame
January 19th, 2525 (May 23rd, 2793, 1000 Hrs)
It took them a day to return to Harvest, partly due to the need to maintain secrecy. Following their return to the Walk of Shame, al-Cygni had made it clear that they were not to speak of this to anyone, save for Nils Thune, the Governor of Harvest.
After what he'd seen of the alien ship and it's crew, Johnson obeyed. If word of this gets out to anyone, he thought, there'll be a panic. Plus, it won't give a good first impression of this new civilization, and that can be as disastrous as a scandal.
That wasn't the only complication, however. Outside, a Riga-class WarShip, the Hetherington, hovered in the vacuum of space, a clear reminder of the mission's nature as a joint special-forces operation. The ship had been sent to escort of one of the SLDF's most important individuals.
Said individual soon walked onboard the ship. "Miss. al-Cygni," Vice Admiral Nicholas Kerensky said. "Good to see you alive and well. Heard things got heated in this system."
"They did," al-Cygni agreed. She motioned to the alien ship that'd been towed to their current position behind Epsilon Indi III to hide it from public notice. "No insurrectionists, but we found the cause of the freighters going missing."
Kerensky frowned. "I see. That's not good news. I take it we've got people to interrogate?"
"Yes," al-Cygni said. "That said, I've been elected as ONI's representative in this matter."
"I'm aware. Are the men ready for debriefing?"
al-Cygni nodded. "Yes."
"Very good." Nicholas keyed an ear-piece. "Richard, Edward, report to the Bismark immediately." He glanced at al-Cygni. "I'll send you a video report shortly." Extending a hand, he said, "It's been a pleasure working with you, al-Cygni."
"Likewise admiral," al-Cygni said, taking the hand in a shake. Nicholas nodded, then walked out of the room and back towards the Bismark.
Jilan turned to Johnson. "Report to my quarters at 1030 hours."
"What about Byrne ma'am?" Johnson asked.
"He's stable, medics are working on his legs."
Half an hour later, Johnson found himself sitting next to Byrne within al-Cygni's quarters. "Let's start with what happened," al-Cygni prompted, staring at the two.
Johnson cleared his throat. "Shortly after you gave permission to engage, we attacked the evident pirates. I wounded the alien leader, after which we were engaged."
"They used the crates for cover," Byrne added. "My guess is they figured, and rightly so, that we wouldn't engage them without a clear line of sight. Richard informed us they were moving into CQC range."
"We engaged them," Johnson added. "My rifle was destroyed in the melee, but I managed to steal one of their weapons. Richard dealt with one that keep their distance before they could shoot at me. We then moved to assist Byrne."
Byrne nodded. "One of the fuckers managed to slash at me. I caught its blade and killed it. The weapon got hot enough that I had to drop it. I realized it was about to explode, so I took cover, as did Johnson." He winced as the wound on his leg briefly flared. "I then remained in the hold with Edward while Richard and Johnson went onboard the ship."
"Once we made sure Byrne would be OK, we proceeded into the ship," Johnson said. "Richard split off to secure any other hostiles onboard, while I went after the alien I assumed was the Captain. It retaliated from the ship's apparent bridge, kept me pinned. Edward flanked and disarmed it. Richard caught two more aliens before they could escape. We returned to the freighter, then informed you of mission completion ma'am."
al-Cygni nodded. A chime on her datapad drew her attention to the message on it. Looking at it, she smiled. "I see," she said. "The Blackhearts also mentioned that their powered armor withstood the plasma fire effectively."
"So, what now?" Johnson asked.
Al-Cygni looked at the two. "For now, you two will get some rest. Johnson, you'll return to Gladsheim at 1500 hours today. You and Ponder will accelerate the Militia's training there. When the aliens come, we'll need them if first contact sours. Before you ask, you'll be a supplement, the UNSC is sending a battalion over from Eridanus. Your job will be evacuating civilians as the marines buy you time"
"What about me?" Byrne asked.
"You're on leave. Heal first, then you can join Johnson wherever he'll be." al-Cygni stood. "Given the circumstances, the two of you excelled in this mission. A greater success couldn't have been achieved. Dismissed!" Johnson & Byrne stood and left after saluting.
Al-Cygni sighed. That's one order of business tended to, she thought. Now, on to the next.
Her eyes glanced towards a holographic map. Time to see how our guests are faring. Datapad in hand, she let for Walk of Shame's medical ward.
Inside, she was greeted by Harvard Jones, the ship's Medical Officer. "Ma'am," he said. "I take it you're here to see the aliens?"
"Yes," al-Cygni said. "Status?"
"Primary subject is stable," Jones reported. "No medical issues as far as I can tell, and that's not saying much. Beyond that, it's been shouting."
"And the others?"
"No complications either, as far as I can tell," Jones said. "The smaller one breaths methane."
al-Cygni frowned. "What about the Engineer?"
"Uninterested right now. Sofia wants to talk to it."
al-Cygni smirked. "Always eager to learn. I may allow it."
Jones handed her a drive. "This is what she managed to convince it to make. It managed to make a translation matrix for us. There's even a couple languages we didn't know of in there."
al-Cygni slotted the drive into her pad, skimming the contents. "Have Sergeant James deliver this to Lieutenant Wright in Section One at the earliest convenience." Another ONI agent walked over and, with a nod, took the data-stick. Al-Cygni looked to Jones. "So, shall we?"
"I'll be on hand for any medical surprises," Jones agreed. Both then proceeded into the Walk of Shame's medical ward.
. . .
There was one word to describe Chur'R-Yar's current state of mind, miserable. The Shipmistress lay on a cot in what she guessed was the alien ship's medical ward. A glance at her arm allowed her to see the numerous wrappings, gauze pads and bandages her arm was swaddled in. She felt similar material on the back of her neck.
If it wasn't for those damn aliens, I'd be back home with Zhar by now! she grumbled. A twinge of sadness echoed in her being. She'd been impressed by Zhar, enough to choose him as her mate. Now he's dead.
Her internal stewing halted when the doors opened. In walked two of the aliens. The first was bald, the other had long hair and was in what she guessed was military regalia, a data-pad in her hand.
The apparent female sat at the bed's edge, while the male stood nearby. Chur'R-Yar couldn't swipe at her, with bound arms and legs. "Who are you?" she growled.
"Not a bad start", Al-Cygni answered, her response muffled and badly translated into Sangheili
Chur'R-Yar's shock seemed apparent, as the female made to stretch her lips upwards "Figures. That cowardly Deacon must've helped you." She snorted.
"If by 'Deacon' you are referring to the smaller alien we have aboard, then you're mistaken," the female said. "That said, let us begin a proper introduction." The female tapped something on her datapad and spoke. "Interrogation Session 045-981 Lima, Lieutenant Commander Jilan al-Cygni presiding. Subject of interrogation is a creature of unidentified avian-reptilian species. Would the interrogee state their name, rank and affiliation?"
Chur'R-Yar remained silent. "Subject has refused to provide requested details. Beginning formal interrogation. An introduction is in order. I am Lieutenant Commander Jilan al-Cygni of the United Nations Space Command's Office of Naval Intelligence."
Chur'R-Yar growled internally, resigning herself to her fate. "Chur'R-Yar, Shipmistress of the Minor Transgression.", she said briefly.
Jilan smiled. "Now, that wasn't so hard, was it? Do you have an employer, or work independently?"
"Ask the Deacon," Chur'R-Yar snapped. "He can tell you. Sniveling little coward."
"I would like to hear from you first," al-Cygni said. "If you do not cooperate, I will be forced to use… unpleasant methods to extract information from you."
Chur'R-Yar growled. So, either I refuse and earn death as my reward (and deny her what she seeks), or I confess and live. It was clear that she was damned either way. She sighed and said, "Very well."
"Thank you," al-Cygni said, a lingering note of suspicion in her voice. "Now, who is your employer?"
"The Covenant," Chur'R-Yar said.
"Who is the Covenant?" Chur'R-Yar remained silent. "There's no harm in explaining who you work for?"
This alien's persistent, Chur-R'Yar grumbled. "All I know is that it's the holy union that my species, the Kig-Yar, entered into once we were bullied into joining it." A thought occurred to her. "That said, I know something you might want."
"Go on."
Chur'R-Yar smiled. "I've been to their capital, High Charity. It's a big space station they have. If you want more on that front, however, you'll have to give me something in return."
al-Cygni made a note on her datapad. "I see. Why were you out here in UEG territory?"
"I was hunting for artifacts of the gods."
al-Cygni raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by 'the gods?'"
"The Forerunners, obviously," Chur'R-Yar growled impatiently. "You want details? Ask the Deacon." Chur snarled.
"I see," al-Cygni said. "Thank you for your cooperation." Standing up, left the medical ward.
Nearby, Sergeant James glanced at her. "I'll interrogate the deacon. Keep this one on toes." Jilan ordered.
"Yes ma'am."
In the brig, Dadab was quaking with terror. His methane tank's regulator whined in protest as he hyperventilated. His heart hammered in his chest, beating against his rib cage like a drum. Gods protect me, he mumbled to himself. Gods protect and forgive me for this transgression!
A tendril rested on his tank comfortingly. Dadab glanced at Lighter-Than-Some, who let out a comforting trill. Through a series of gestures, it said, it'll be all right. I'll keep you safe. The Huragok's words, though small in comfort, helped Dadab relax. He'd been truly blessed to have one of the sacred workers of the gods with him.
He jolted as the door to his cell opened. Four armored aliens came inside. Dadab followed them out, worry and panic racing through him as he fervently prayed. Two more came in and kept an eye on Lighter-Than-Some. Dadab was about to shriek when Lighter-Than-Some made a few gestures. Relax, it said.
Dadab frowned. Easier said than done, he thought. Still, he did not resist as the six aliens hauled him out of his cell. Two of them roughly shoved him down into a seat in a bright room, eliciting a yelp as something pinched his leg.
Then the female he'd seen a day ago walked into the room and sat at the far side of the table. She pressed something into her data pad and said, "Interrogation Session 045-981 Mike, Lieutenant Commander Jilan al-Cygni presiding. Subject is an unknown species of reptilian alien. Would the interrogee state their name, rank and affiliation?"
Dadab was surprised. She spoke the tongue of the righteous, or did the Huragok foul itself in heresy? He hoped it was something else. "Dadab," he answered. "Deacon of the Covenant's Ministry of Tranquility."
"Thank you," al-Cygni said. "Would you clarify as to what the Covenant is, as well as it's Ministry of Tranquility?"
Dadab's curiosity was piqued. An opportunity to preach to the aliens and proselytize them into the Covenant lay before him. They already know the tongue, he reasoned.
"You wish to learn of the gods?" he asked.
"Eventually, but I'd like to know what the Covenant is, as well as what the Ministry of Tranquility is first."
"Very well!" Dadab said. "The Covenant is a holy union of numerous species united in following the great journey our forebearers and gods, the forerunners, once treaded in their path to ascension."
al-Cygni glanced at James, who stood at the back of the room. So far, Dadab was proving to be more cooperative, though she knew it could very well be a smokescreen. "And the Ministry of Tranquility?" she asked.
"It is charged with exploring the furthest reaches of our space in the hunt for holy artifacts of the gods, and deciphering them for the common masses. We are also charged with bringing new species into the Covenant." Said Dadab.
"Now, concerning the events leading up to your capture…" At this, Dadab's nostrils flared in anger. He made to stand, only for the two men next to him to force him back into the seat. "Please elaborate on your reaction." Jilan requested.
Dadab nodded eagerly. "The Shipmistress of the Minor Transgression, Chur'R-Yar," he spat the name like poison, "forced me to lie to the Ministry of Tranquility, to keep my life. Kig-Yar, however, are conniving liars and tricksters Never trust any of them!"
We'll that complicates anything she's said so far, al-Cygni thought. "Is that why you attempted to leave once you had the chance?"
"I wanted no part of her heresy!" Dadab said. "I planned to report it in full to the ministry of Concert, hopefully to the Inquisition as well."
"I see. Tell me, then, about your religion."
Dadab began to speak, eager to tell al-Cygni all that he knew. "We worship our gods, the Forerunners, for their blessed gifts to us. We know that they became gods when they fired the sacred rings, burning a path into the divine beyond. It is said that they left their gifts behind so that we may follow them. We know that, some day, we will find the sacred rings, and use them to become gods like the Forerunners of old, where they will reward us for our faith and zeal. All that join the Covenant will ascend with us, but those that commit heresy will have their feet stayed, and be left behind."
As Dadab spoke, al-Cygni made a mental note on what she heard. By the time Dadab finished, she had a full page on her datapad. Standing up, she said, "I see. Thank you for your cooperation." The soldiers nodded, then escorted Dadab from the room.
James frowned. "That's one hell of a sale's pitch."
"It was," al-Cygni said. "That said, it'll take a divine intervention before I believe in any of that. Keep an eye on him and the Engineer. I need to compile my report."
"Yes ma'am."
At 1400 hours, al-Cygni accessed activated the M-HPG. Establishing a secure call to CINCONI's office. Parangosky's face appeared on screen. "Do you have a report, Captain?" she asked.
"Yes," al-Cygni said. "Yes ma'am, marked urgent at tier 1."
Parangosky looked at the transmission. "I'll hand it off to CINCONI immediately. "That said, I have supplementary orders from CINCONI. Continue your questioning of Dadab and Chur'R-Yar when possible. A Section Four team is on it's way to take possession of the MinorTransgression. An intelligence teamis on it's way to take Dadab and Chur'R-Yar into UNSC custody. You are to remain onsite as the ONI representative for when we made First Contact.
Elaborate please, ma'am?" al-Cygni asked.
"President Lebedeau and Director-General Torrance have agreed to have the SLDF transport representatives of the UEG and SLiE to Harvest for First Contact. It's almost certain the Covenant will send personnel to Harvest now that they likely know of our existence. As such, we need to be ready for when they arrive. We are also sending a battle group to Harvest to ensure things go smoothly, and to extract the delegates otherwise."
al-Cygni nodded. "Understood ma'am. I'll put my best foot forwards."
"Good. I'll inform CINCONI of any developments on your end. Parangosky out." The screen winked off.
Al-Cygni stood, then proceeded to her quarters. Once more unto the breach, she thought.
. . .
Utgard Botanical Gardens, Utgard
Three Weeks Later
Richard took in the morning air, eyes on the impromptu landing pad that was set up near the edge of the property. Always did like mornings, he thought. He smirked, memories of happier times swimming through his mind.
He brushed them aside, glanced towards Johnson. "Beautiful morning," he said.
"It is," Johnson said. "I like mornings; something about it's inevitability focuses me."
Richard smiled. "Morning person?"
"Yep." Johnson glanced at Richard. "Hope the aliens don't share the same preference."
"I know what you mean. This is supposed to be peaceful, but if it all goes to hell… might as well have every advantage we can get."
Johnson nodded. A glance at the sky revealed the stars, as well as several moving pinpricks of light. Each one represented a ship, both UNSC and SLDF. If any trouble happened, the delegates would be moved to those ships, where hundreds of thousands of tons of Lamellor Ferro-Carbide would hopefully keep them safe.
A sound interrupted his thoughts. To his right, Osmo, one of the Marines, was yawning loudly. "You tired, Osmo?"
"No, Staff Sergeant," Osmo said.
Johnson frowned. "You keep yawning like that, I'm gonna pull you off the line."
"Yes, Staff Sergeant."
That brought Johnson's attention to the rest of the militia gathered there. Accompanying them were two platoons of SLDF infantry. Johnson understood the need to present a strong front in such a time.
Then there was the location itself. The Utgard Botanical Gardens was the most remote, yet stately location that Lieutenant Commander al-Cygni could find. Avery would've preferred farther away, but Nils Thune, the Governor of Harvest, was willing to trade a small risk of civilian observation for the scenic grandeur he'd deemed necessary for Humanity's First Contact with aliens.
To be fair, he has a point, Johnson admitted to himself. The gardens are plenty grand.
He focused on the impromptu landing pad. A series of flashing red and yellow lights arranged in an X, it was located on the lowest of the three tiers in the park, a broad lawn that grew right up to the edge of the precipice. Here, the Bifrost bulged to form an unusual promontory, allowing for scenic views of the Ida Plains. To the right of that was a spectacular waterfall that marked the end of the Mimir River. Johnson couldn't see the river, but he could hear it, a dull roaring sound.
Behind the landing pad, the colonial militia's recruits stood in two lines, each dressed in freshly pressed fatigues and polished boots. Al-Cygni had initially had them in just that, but at Director-General Torrance's insistence, the militia wore standard issue BDUs over the fatigues. The SLDF platoon that was visible was fully armored and armed. Accompanying them were Marines that stood in the lines closest to the center.
Osmo yawned again. "That's it recruit," Johnson said. "Step out." He thrust a thumb towards the magnolias bordering the northern edge of the lawn. Hidden inside was the second SLDF platoon, along with Stisen and the rest of the 2/A recruits.
"But Staff Ser-"
"But what?"
Osmo's thick cheeks flushed. "This recruit wants to stay with the squad. Wants to do his duty!"
"We need to make a good impression. Understood?"
Osmo slumped in disappointment. "Yes, Staff Sergeant."
Avery slapped Osmo's backside. "Alright then. On you go." As Osmo left, Johnson looked skyward. When are they coming?
. . .
High up in orbit, their guests were finishing the final preparations for their journey ground side. At the entrance to one of the Spirit's troop bays, Maccabeus glanced out into the void. While too far to make out details, his eyes settled onto the pinpricks of light that kept a constant distance from the Rapid Conversion. Those pinpricks of light, according to Rapid Conversion's hyperscanners, were a fleet of ships from this new species. Scans were ongoing, and by the time he returned, they would have estimated the purpose of each ship.
The Jiralhanae Chieftain smiled, pointed teeth flashing. How prudent yet boastful of them, he thought. Offer one hand, yet arm the other. Something Tartarus would do well to take note of.
The sound of footsteps drew his attention to a smaller and younger Jiralhanae. Unlike the others, some of the fur on his head grew longer and taller than the rest, giving him a mohawk. "When do we leave for the surface?" Maccabeus asked.
"Soon," Tartarus, the smaller Jiralhanae, said. "The last of the Unggoy are coming aboard. I'm surprised that you requested some T'Vao and Kig-Yar." He snorted at the names of the last two species. "Most would be too cowardly to accept."
"The T'Vao and Kig-Yar have a love for adventure," Maccabeus said. "They cannot resist the allure of meeting a new species." He shrugged. "Remember my instructions to you from earlier. If you find a relic, claim it for the Covenant."
Tartarus nodded. "Yes, Chieftain. Before we leave, if I may…?"
Maccabeus sighed. "Go ahead."
Tartarus leaned in. "Are we sure this is a wise decision? For all we know, the aliens below us might use this as a trap."
Maccabeus frowned. When Rapid Conversion had arrived, they'd received information from the surface of the planet. A series of pictograms made it clear that the local inhabitants wished to meet them posthaste. That told Maccabeus that the Minor Transgression had been there. If the report the Minister of Tranquility sent him was accurate, that would confirm the onboard Deacon's report of heresy being committed.
"Because we have no other choice," Maccabeus said at length. "As you know well, the bringing in of new species to the Covenant is the duty that we of the Ministry of Tranquility must perform. Besides, if the report is accurate, we are looking at the beginnings of a new Age of Conversion and Age of Discovery. Would you forsake the chance to be a part of this monumental event?"
Tartarus shook his head. "I… cry for your pardon, Chieftain. It was not my intention to sound… unenthusiastic."
Maccabeus nodded. "I understand your concerns. That said, we cannot tarry any longer. We are needed on the surface. Perhaps the locals can inform us as to where the Minor Transgression disappeared to."
As the two boarded the Spirit, Tartarus nodded. "Perhaps."
Within moments, all were onboard the twin Spirits heading to the planet. Both vehicles were released from their docking clamps, then they proceeded out of Rapid Conversion and towards the planet.
A vid-feed appeared on Maccabeus' helmet HUD. His attention flicked briefly to the structure that extended into space. Initially assumed to be a weapons platform, hyperscanner sweeps had found it was unarmed. Likely for transporting goods, was Maccabeus' final assessment.
. . .
On the ground, Johnson's earpiece crackled. "Forsell's got contacts on thermal, ten o'clock high," Jenkins, one of the recruits, reported.
Johnson scanned the skies. They revealed no sign of their guest's whereabouts. "How many?"
"Two," Jenkins replied. "Want us to mark them?"
Johnson frowned. On the garden's eastern edge, two sniper teams had been posted to keep an eye on the landing pad. "Negative," he said. "They'll be here soon enough." Besides, we don't want to be perceived as hostile, he decided.
Nearby, Richard keyed his COM. "Blue One, SITREP?"
"Two contacts coming in," one spotter said. "Distance 12 klicks and closing fast."
"Any identification?"
"Affirm. Two large shuttles. Twin pronged. Thermal readings homogeneous. Possible weapon mount underneath."
Richard nodded. "Understood. Update me when necessary."
"Wilco. Blue One out."
Nearby, Johnson asked into the common frequency. "Company's on the way, Captain. How's our perimeter?"
"Charlie squads report all clear," Captain Ponder replied.
Johnson nodded. 1/C and 2/C should keep the highway clear. Can't risk civvies spotting this.
"And our welcome party?"
Avery scanned the remaining 1/A recruits, Marines and the SLDF soldiers. "Good to go, sir."
"Keep 'em calm, Sergeant. Weapons safe and shouldered."
"Roger that," Johnson said.
For a few seconds, the silence was broken only by the waterfall, and the birds that were now starting their songs. Then, a pulsing whine could be heard, one that grew rapidly in intensity. Soon, it bested even the Mimir river in intensity.
As he scanned the sky again, Johnson spotted something. In the brightening deep blue haze of the sky, he saw two dark shadows following one behind the other, like sharks prowling the shallows of a sea.
"Staff Sergeant…" Jenkins began.
"I see them," Johnson said. "Squad, stand to!"
As 1/A came to attention, a pair of alien ships emerged from the haze. Purple hull plating flashing, they dropped towards the Bifrost, then circled around the gardens. "How are they flying?"
Johnson nodded, then noticed their size. "Stand back!" he shouted. "They're gonna need more room!" Both the Marines and the SLDF soldiers maintained both. They assumed new positions, while the recruits in the 2nd line hastily followed.
The twin ships lowered to the ground. The lights below them flickered, then died, while grass was pressed down by an invisible field. Johnson could see water droplets rest against the field, before falling in a sheet when it faded away. Both ships settled gracefully onto the ground, their twin compartments remaining in the air.
Then one of the compartments opened, and their occupants stepped out into the light. They looked like the improbable offspring of apes and bears. Each one was a hirsute giant, with shoulders as wide as a man was tall, and fists that could easily encompass a man's head.
That's not too surprising, Johnson thought. What little intel he and Ponder had been privy to indicated that their guests were from an alien conglomerate known as the Covenant, so the presence of more than one species didn't surprise him. But it does complicate the diplomats' hopes of meeting more of the beaked ones, better pray they use the same language, he added mentally. "Heavily armored," he heard Ponder observe over the COM. "Weapons?"
Johnson glanced at them. The aliens weapons were massive, blocky and ugly conglomerations of metal. Each one had a pair of what looked like shortswords permanently attached to them. One of the aliens, a tall one dressed in gold armor with swept back V shaped crest on it's helmet, held what looked like a giant hammer.
"Heavy pistols and a hammer," Johnson reported.
"Say again? A hammer?"
"A giant hammer sir," Johnson repeated. "On their leader."
Ponder paused. "Anything else?"
"Should've gone with barbecue…"
"Come again?"
"They aren't vegetarians," Johnson said, noting sharp teeth when the leader growled to it's subordinates. "Might want to reset the table."
"No time for that, Johnson. Bring them up."
Johnson nodded. "Understood." He turned to the ambassador that had been sent, a tall, reedy man. "You ready, Edward?"
"Always," Edward said…
On the other side of the exchange, Maccabeus examined the newcomers closely. They were short aliens, taller than the Grunts, but shorter than the T'Vao and Kig-Yar. Most were dressed in what looked like body armor. Some of them had helmets with silvered visors, hiding their faces.
Tartarus sniffed the air, then glanced at Maccabeus. "They've got hidden units nearby." He jerked his chin towards a line of trees.
Maccabeus sniffed, then caught a somewhat salty scent. "I smell them too. A precaution on their part. It worries me little."
Unaware of what they were saying, one of the aliens, dressed in what Maccabeus guessed was formal attire, stepped forwards and stopped before the large alien. He narrowed his eyes and growled at him.
On the other end, Johnson looked at Edward. For all the alien's growling, he might as well have been growling at a brick wall. "Dass, Richard, to me," he said. "Nice and slow."
Both men complied, breaking formation to go to Avery's side. Slowly and deliberately, Johnson un-shouldered his M96, removed the power pack, then handed both items to Dass. The alien watched them, eyes flashing as it observed the process. Johnson then extended his empty hands. OK… now you.
To his relief, the large alien slid it's hammer up and over the shoulder, before handing it to one of it's blue armored compatriots. It then opened it's hands in the same gesture. Avery nodded. "Dass, Richard, step back." As they did, he motioned to himself, then pointed at the greenhouse.
The alien quickly got the message. It dropped down from the compartment and onto the ground, sinking six inches into the turf. Now Johnson could see the leader had almost silver tufts of fur sticking out of places on it's armor; it's escorts had different colored fur, and one looked muscular. That was like comparing two different MBTs: one might be larger than the other, but both could quickly flatten the recruits, and possibly the Marines and SLDF troops.
Thankfully, the alien had understood Avery's message. Before long, the unlikely quadruple were trooping along the lawn to the granite staircase that led to the gate's middle tier. "We're on the move," Johnson whispered into his mic. "So far, so good."
"Roger that," Ponder said.
Before long, they'd arrived at their destination. At the middle of the middle tier was a long table with a crisp white tablecloth and a large basket laden with fruits and vegetables. From inside the structure emerged Thune, his lawyer Pedersen, Ponder and al-Cygni, with Staff Sergeant Byrne at the rear. Ponder and al-Cygni were in their dress uniforms, while Thune wore a yellow-on-white suit that seemed ready to burst at the seams. Pedersen was in his usual gray linen suit.
President Lebedeau and Director-General Torrance had an odd choice of apparent wear. If I didn't know Torrance was from another Universe, I'd have thought he and Lebedeau were twins. It amused him to see that both men wore the same style of black-on-white suit. The only true difference were the differing metal emblem pins.
"Thank you, Staff Sergeant," Holt said. "We'll take it from here."
"Yes sir," Avery said. He moved to the northwest end of the table where al-Cygni stood. Bynre stood with Richard at the adjacent corner.
Holt glanced at Torrance. "You ready?"
"Yes," Torrance said, his eyes flashing with amusement. "I'm ready." At a hand signal, a hidden camera sent a signal to a small device hidden within his suit.
On the other side of the exchange, Maccabeus watched the aliens with mild interest. So far, they seemed to wish for discuss things peacefully. Perhaps they might let us have the planet, he thought. After all, we wouldn't want to harm a potential newcomer to the Covenant.
Two of the aliens, both of whom looked identical, advanced towards him. He was about to focus on them when they did something he didn't expect: they spoke. "Greetings," one of them said. "I am President Lebedeau of the United Earth Government. With me is Director-General Torrance of the Star League. We are of the species known as Humans. We welcome you to Harvest."
To Maccabeus' surprise, he could understand them. For a moment, he was confused, then he realized it. The crew of the Transgression have heresy to filter out from, he realized. That worried him, but he kept that to himself.
Realizing they were expecting a response, he said, "I see. I am Maccabeus, Cheiftain of the Maccabeus Clan. We are the Jiralhanae." He spoke in Sangheili.
Both men nodded. "It is an honor to be hosting you today, Chieftain Maccabeus," Torrance said. "I trust that you had a safe journey here?"
"Yes. The faithful need not worry about any trials in any journey, whilst they keep to the path." Maccabeus glanced at them. "I take it you captured the Minor Transgression?"
"The pirate ship that attacked us a few weeks ago?" Lebedeau asked. When Maccabeus nodded, he said, "Yes. If you wish, we can return them to you for your justice system to judge.
"That is no concern," Maccabeus said. "You can keep the heretics. That said, we are here on more important matters."
"Such as?"
Maccabeus held out a single piece of material. On it was etched a symbol. "We are here because our Luminary indicated the presence of artifacts belonging to our gods being present here. Are you aware as to the significance of this symbol?"
Both Lebedeau and Torrance's expressions betrayed no emotion. Inwardly, however, both men were worried. That's the Reclaimer symbol! Torrance thought. He frowned internally. Well… shit.
Outwardly, both he and Lebedeau feigned ignorance. "No," Lebedeau said at length. "What is the significance of this symbol?"
"According to our Deacon, it means 'Reclamation,'" Maccabeus said. "It is a sign that the gods favor us. We would like to take possession of the artifacts on this planet, as well as parts of the planet itself. In exchange, we are willing to induct your kind into our most holy Covenant."
Lebedeau pursed his lips, eyes closing in thought. "I see." Opening them, he said, "We will have to consider the matter carefully. Would you mind if I spoke with the Director-General and the others in private?"
"Of course not," Maccabeus said. "Do not tarry, however. Time is of the essence."
"Of course." Both men walked to the upper tier and spoke in low voices, keeping the Jiralhanae from hearing them. "You saw what I saw, yes?"
"I did," Torrance said. "This isn't good news. If what Nicholas told me is true, they think the Halos are a means of apotheosis, and that symbol means Reclamation. It actually means Reclaimer, and if they learn about the location of Installation 04…" He trailed off, let the implications sink in.
"Do you think we should-" Lebedeau didn't finish the sentence…
Near the perimeter, Osmo walked by the magnolias. I wish I wasn't so tired, he thought as he yawned again. If it wasn't for the fact we needed the place set up, I'd have gotten in some quality sleep.
He was about to yawn again when he heard a twig snap. In an instant, he whirled around, MA5C in hand, to face the source of the sound. On the other end of the muzzle was one of the aliens. A short, squat thing, it looked like an insect and turtle had a child. "Who are you?!" he growled. "Back off! This is a restricted area!"
The alien merely growled. It sounded silly doing so, but Osmo felt a distinctly menacing undertone. He gestured with his free hand. "I said back off! You're in a restricted area! Leave or I will shoot! This is your final warning!"
Then, before he could react, the alien charged. Osmo was knocked to the ground, then pain erupted from his legs. To his horror, the alien was trying to tear him to pieces. Only the BDUs he wore kept the alien from ripping him apart. With a howl of rage and terror, he kicked the alien off, took aim and fired.
The rifle roared in his hands, blue-white fire erupting from the muzzle. The alien jerked back as bullets smashed into it's armor. Blue blood splattered onto the ground, with some splashing onto Osmo. He spat some out as he released the trigger. Before him, the alien swayed, then fell to the ground dead. Just as he sighed, something flew out of the trees, and then blackness too him…
At the mid-tier of the park, Johnson heard the gunfire. Before he could react, the taller of Maccabeus' escorts took out his weapon and fired. Pedersen went down immediately, a series of spikes protruding from his chest. The man gasped, struggling to remain conscious as blood filled his lungs.
"Get down!" Johnson roared as he tackled Jilan, tossing himself and her to the ground. The shorter escort fired it's own heavy pistol, missing the two by inches. Lebedeau and Torrance, seeing the commotion, threw themselves behind a half wall.
"Tartarus?!" Maccabeus roared. "What is the meaning of this?!"
"We're being attacked!" Tartarus shouted. "It's an ambush!"
Maccabeus was about to respond when it happened. One of the humans at the corner of the table pulled out a blocky looking weapon, what Maccabeus guessed passed as a rifle among their kind. Maccabeus, fearing for Tartarus, pushed him to the side just as the Human fired.
Instead of a projectile as Maccabeus had initially thought, a bright red-white beam of light speared through the air and into his armor. To his surprise, his combat harness' energy shield strength dropped by 20%. A loud cracking sound echoed in the air.
Then, in an instant, several more humans appeared, these in full body armor. Unwilling to find out if these other rifles were also laser weapons, Maccabeus threw himself behind cover, pulling Tartarus with him.
Their other escort wasn't as lucky. The Jiralhanae screamed as multiple laser beams tore into it. It's combat harness' shields failed, then bits of it's armor were cut off by multiple lasers. It scrambled for cover, only for a laser beam, in a very unfortunate moment, to spear through it's neck. There was a muffled pop as it's head was detached from it's neck by the steam explosion that ensued.
Maccabeus swore under his breath. "Retreat!" he shouted into his BattleNet mic. "Back to the Spirits!" At his order, all of the forces under his command raced towards the Spirit. Pushing Tartarus, he quickly made his way towards the Spirit. Once onboard, they quickly left.
. . .
"Shit!" Johnson yelled as the twin ships took off. This was the worst thing that could happen, the worst! He raced towards the delegates. "Is everyone all right?!"
"Pedersen!" Thune yelled. Running forwards, he cradled Pedersen in his arms. "Pedersen!" He shook the man, then lowered the man's body to the ground. "He's dead…"
"What the hell happened?!" Lebedeau shouted.
"I don't know!" Johnson shouted, "but I plan to find out. All teams, report in!"
"Johnson!" Stisen shouted. Following the man's voice, Johnson came across a heart wrenching sight.
Lying on the ground, rifle in hand, was Osmo. The cause of death was plain: a large metal spike had bored through his helmet and into his face. The BDU's protecting his lower body had scratches crisscrossing it's surface.
Stisen and the other 2/A recruits had huddled around Osmo's corpse, each one silent. "I told him: stay away from the lawn," Stisen said. "I didn't want him to get hurt."
Johnson clenched his jaw. "Did you see him get hit?"
Stisen shook his head. "No."
"It was one of the little ones," Burdick, one of the others, added. "It broke in and Osmo warned it to leave. It charged at him instead. Knocked him down and tried to tear him apart. He killed it, but another small one shot him before I could move in."
"I heard his weapon fire, but it was too late."
Avery rose to his feet. "Any other casualties?"
"No," Stisen said. "The SLDF sniper team took out some of the others."
"Byrne, talk to me," Avery said.
"We're OK," Ponder said. "Pedersen's dead. Bravo and Alpha squads have three wounded, one serious. Dass and Richard say their boys are fine."
"We'd better clear out," Johnson decided. "Bastards might circle back."
"Agreed."
Johnson nodded. "Someone get a bag for Osmo."
As the others left, Johnson looked at Osmo. You just saved our asses, he thought. It's a shame you died, but at least you took one of your killers down with you. Still, he steeled himself against the knowledge that the aliens had botched it and not them – and that there would be many more casualties to come.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard al-Cygni in his earpiece. "Johnson?"
"I'm here," Johnson said. "What is it?"
"We're getting the principles out of here. fleet's moving to intercept the alien ship."
"Understood," Johnson said.
. . .
Back aboard the Rapid Conversion, Maccabeus had a frown on his face. "Uncle, are you all right?" Tartarus asked.
"I'll live," Maccabeus said. He glanced at Tartarus. "Did you claim a relic?"
"No, Chieftain," Tartarus said.
Maccabeus couldn't help an angry huff. "But the Luminary showed dozens of holy objects – all were very close at hand!"
"I found nothing but their warriors."
Maccabeus glanced at the door. "Did you conduct a thorough search?"
"The Unggoy were overeager and broke ranks," Tartarus rumbled. "We lost the element of surprise."
"I see," Maccabeus said. "Have we received any messages from the Vice Minister?"
"One," Tartarus said. He handed Maccabeus a datapad.
Maccabeus took it with his free hand, then looked it over closely. When he finished reading it, he looked aghast. "This… is this truly from him?"
"The Vice Minister has spoken," Tartarus said. "We are to begin the extermination of this species. They have destroyed a Forerunner reliquary. What we saw on the Luminary were the scattered remnants of the reliquary it seems."
Maccabeus looked stunned. "That cannot be! We've only just found the planet! We cannot -"
A Jiralhanae Minor burst into the room. "Chieftain, we are about to be attacked! The Human fleet draws close!"
Maccabeus snarled. "We'll finish this later. Make best speed for high orbit. We cannot -" The ship shuddered as something struck it. Without a word, all the Brutes ran out of the apothecarium.
. . .
Up in space, Admiral Strauss was hard at work. The Iona and her escorts were burning hard towards the Covenant ship with their UNSC counterparts in tow. It'd come as a near shock when the aliens had attacked their delegation, but he knew his duty.
"Sir!" Lieutenant Gerry shouted. "Enemy ship is coming about on heading 1-8-0 mark 0-2-0!"
Straight at us, Strauss thought. "Understood. Fire Control, lock Naval PPCs. Prepare to engage!"
"Yes sir!" Lieutenant Farragut said. "Solution locked! Engaging!"
A second later, the Naval PPCs installed onboard Iona fired, hurling particle bolts at the Rapid Conversion. Instead of impacting armor, Strauss and the others watched as theysplashed against a shimmering blue-white energy field. "Sir, did it just -"
"It did," Strauss said, finishing Lieutenant Farragut's sentence. "Energy shields. How very interesting… and fascinating. Bring about starboard NPPCs and begin charging the Mass Driver. We -"
"Incoming!" Lieutenant Yeats, the Sensors Officer, shouted.
At that moment, what appeared to be a bolus aof plasma shot out from the Rapid Conversion, while several beams of plasma shot from the ship's side. Moving at tremendous speed, they smashed into the flanks of Iona and her escorts. The ship shook about. "Status!" Strauss shouted.
"Port and Starboard Bow taking damage!" Oslow, the Damage Control Officer, shouted. "Port Front Armor at 82% integrity!"
"Lasers and PPCs ready to fire!" Farragut reported. "All other ships are reporting in as well!"
"OPEN FIRE!" Strauss roared.
All ships fired on Rapid Conversion. Particle bolts, laser beams and kinetic slugs smashed into the Rapid Conversion. Maccabeus swore as the ship was thrown about. "Shields are gone!" Tartarus reported. "Reading multiple hull breaches!"
"Electrical disruptions in multiple systems!" another Brute shouted. "Targeting is still operational!"
"Fire plasma torpedoes!" Maccabeus ordered. "Begin the ju…"
Suddenly, the ship felt as though a giant had slapped it. Maccabeus' flew into a console and slumped to the ground, unconscious. Tartarus grabbed a nearby column and waited for the shaking to stop. "Report!"
"Engines are down!" a Brute reported. "Borer drive is detached. We're drifting!"
Tartarus snarled. "Have all combat able warriors move to the airlocks. Prepare for boarding action." While the others worked, Tartarus moved towards the hangar. I can't defeat these Humans, but I can flee. The others will hate me for this, but better that the Hierarchs know what we face than be blind…
Onboard the Iona, Strauss watched as a slug from the UNSC Everest tore into where they'd guessed the engines to be. "Sir, enemy ship is disabled," Lieutenant Yeats said. "Vice Admiral Fremont is preparing a joint boarding party."
"Copy that," Strauss aid.
"Sir, new contact!" Yeats said. "Looks like a small ship. It -" He shook his head. "It's gone to slipspace, sir."
Strauss frowned. "Very well. Begin boarding all power sources onboard the ship, make sure the self-destruct is offline, then move in." He glanced at the ship as the DropShips went to capture it.
. . .
It hadn't been long before the Rapid Conversion had been taken. Onboard Iona, Admiral Strauss stood before President Lebedeau and Director-General Torrance in a meeting room "Are you sure that was the only escapee?" Torrance asked.
"Yes director" Strauss said. "Beyond that, we succeeded in taking Rapid Conversion. Maccabeus is currently in a medical ward on our ship. I've been assured his condition's stable."
"Good," Holt said, a frown on his face. "Why the hell did all this happen?"
"Maccabeus did furnish us with a few details. Apparently, they thought the Botanical Gardens had Forerunner relics. One of them, Tartarus, was sent to find and claim these relics. They instead ran into us after one of their Unggoy broke formation. Unfortunately, we've got bad news." He handed the two a datapad. "We managed to translate what we could read, but we haven't been able to hack into their ship systems yet."
Both men looked through the datapad. Torrance frowned. "Well… shit."
"Indeed," Lebedeau agreed. "Looks like they've declared a jihad on us, and all because of this incident?"
"No" Strauss said. "Apparently, the Covenant's leaders, the Hierarchs, believe we destroyed a Forerunner reliquary. Apparently, that's seen as the highest form of heresy in their society. Given that they're the bosses in charge…" He let the implications sink in.
"I see," Torrance said. "Thank you for your report, Admiral. Inform the SLDF to be ready for my return. Dismissed!"
As Strauss left the room, Lebedeau looked at Torrance. "I guess… I guess it was too much to hope that peace would ensue. Now we've got an alien alliance that wants us dead."
"I know," Torrance said. "We've got wolves at the door, and there's nothing we can do except fight." He stood from the table. "I'll head back with the fleet once their drives are ready. What about you?"
"I'll head back to Earth," Lebedeau said. "The media's probably screaming and smearing me as well. I'll need to convince the UEG that we need to declare war. Hopefully, they'll enact emergency powers and allow the UNSC to handle this mess." He stood. "Let's go. We've got a storm to survive.
"For all our sakes, I hope we survive as well," Torrance said.