A/N:During the creative process for my crossover, I often entertain a lot of ideas that just can't fit anywhere without being a drag. Now I have the solution: a one-shot and short story collection gathering all my Halo-only plans in one place. Some chapters may include characters from my other 3 fanfics, but don't think of this as "required reading" or anything.
These stories will be set solely during the Human-Covenant war, nevertheless this is my AU which borrows some fanon equipment here and there, so check my other stories for explanations of any non-canon ships. I'd also like to thank "Ian Otter" on ffnet (if you're reading this on AO3) for his "Halo: Firefights" story collection, which along with Halo Evolutions inspired me to consider a oneshot collection as a viable option.
1750 hours, March 10th, 2527
Maubeuge city, Louvre province
Galodew, Gindenn system
Ochre sunlight streamed through wiry clouds down, reflecting off the metallic paint that tried to add flair to the blocky prefabricated structures littering the city.
Private Angelika "Lika" Tomšič watched the sunset in silence from her vantage point atop the 2nd story balcony of a local restaurant. The young woman fiddled with the last helping of soggy salad on her plate and tried to ignore the sound of manic chewing across from her, where Private Barrington continued chowing down on a fresh bowl of tortilla chips. Many men in the rest of the squad were still eating around her, but they weren't causing nearly as much of a racket.
In the streets below, Lika could see the people of Maubeuge going about their business in a similarly frantic state, weaving around the usual acquaintances and coworkers they passed on numerous occasions without exchanging so much as glance now.
Even she herself was unable to hide her own agitation; beneath the table, her left foot swung from side to side on her heel despite her best efforts to focus on the pristine sunset.
Lika was grateful that the garrison commander still permitted soldiers like her to exit the base and enjoy the city, albeit with one important qualifier: everyone had to go out armed, armored, and in groups of 5 or more. Propped up against the wooden chair she sat in was her MA30 Assault rifle.
A cool breeze caressed her unbound hair-despite all the tension, she had still chosen to take her helmet off and leave it next to her rifle. Sergeant Shriver could fume all he wanted, she wasn't going to deny herself the small pleasures of life.
It was in the brief lull when Barrington was reaching for more chips that Lika overheard a commotion quite unlike even the past few weeks of silent agitation: bystanders crying out in shock and annoyance, many sets of heavy footfalls thudding on the sidewalk in unison, and one word that explained both nothing and everything at once, shouted by several concerned citizens: "GUN!"
That roused the squad to action. All over the balcony, marines disregarded their meals and secured their weapons in anticipation of what awaited them as more shouts of alarm filled the street.
Lika should've grabbed her own rifle, but she was overcome by curiosity before her utterly inexperienced combat instincts could kick in. This was her first assignment after bootcamp back on Vodin, and she barely had any time to settle in before the current anxiety had taken hold. That was why she chose to lean in her chair towards the edge of the balcony, and when that proved inadequate she twisted out and approached the antique wrought-iron guardrail.
She only had a few seconds to catch sight of the armed intruders: black face masks, anachronistic body armor, opaque tactical glasses, no identifying insignias or patches. The scrawny individual leading the gaggle caught sight of her and raised his blocky assault rifle her way…
Something struck her from the right just as the armed man opened fire. Bullets keened past Lika and banged loudly into the guardrail as she and her savior tumbled to the ground, alive but not safe behind the thin metal rails. Screaming on the street was drowned out by several guns firing full-auto below.
"Next time, you're on your own," Sergeant Shriver's voice rang out uncomfortably close to her right ear. Then he was gone, rising to his feet with his MA30 already drawn.
Lika didn't need any further explanation. That was a stupid thing she'd just done, exposing herself to an obvious threat out of sheer curiosity. Perhaps Shriver was overbearing sometimes, but there was a reason he didn't suffer fools lightly. There was no room in his squad for people who didn't get smart quickly.
At that point, she knew what she had to do. Rolling shakily away from the railing, Lika grasped for her rifle, which had been knocked over in the confusion. More gunfire was filling the streets, this time from further down, and with not a single ricochet on the squad's level. Were the Innies gunning down civilians now? She had no idea what was going on, all she knew was that the threat had to go.
By the time Lika grabbed her MA30 and rose up to a sitting position, the cacophony had already died out. Several of her squadmates sat crouched behind metal tables they'd been eating at seconds before, a clear defiance of the rule that "concealment isn't cover", but they were just as green as her.
Peering between the guardrails, Lika observed a strange sight, though not nearly as grim as she'd been expecting. Several of the black-armored terrorists were dead. Trails of blood marked where the rest might've fled. A few civilians lay where they had fallen, but all of them were injured. The rest had taken cover behind anything solid, from other stores to trash cans, and were just now taking their first tentative steps into the open.
Lika remembered the sudden burst of gunfire from the other end of the street. Someone had clearly intercepted this group before they could do more damage, but who?
1002 hours, March 17th, 2527
UNSC Teribus Island, CVA-103
In Orbit over Galodew, Gindenn system
Fleetcom Sector 2, subvolume F-3
87 light years from Earth
Rear Admiral Carlos Rebane leaned callously against the edge of the holodisplay towards the source of his latest frustration: Galodew, a planet splattered with greys, greens, and blues courtesy of both terraforming efforts and native wildlife. But sprinkled over the burly green-gray continents were numerous red warning signs, each one corresponding with reports of gunfire and the like.
Now, all Rebane could think was that instead of the Covenant, the colony would need to be protected from itself. Certainly, this outbreak of violence was no fault of his. According to preliminary reports, the disorder had kicked off in early March, well before anyone could've known Rebane's battlegroup was on the way into the system. As for the cause, Rebane's utter lack of intel on that front was the main reason his thoughts remained grim.
The longstanding situation in the Gindenn system meant that simply planning to defend against the Covenant was unfeasible. The primary colony in the system was the not-so-unwilling host to a particularly deft Insurrectionist movement known as the "Galodew Emancipation" which had stubbornly resisted the UNSC for over 25 years. A lucky series of defections in the 2490s allowed the fledgling terrorists to assemble a small navy. Obsolete though most of their ships already were, the rebel fleet had proven itself adept in commerce raiding, connecting with the wider United Rebel Front to trade their ill-gotten gains for materials to build hideouts outside of their home system. Several of these makeshift stations had been uncovered and destroyed by the Navy, but with more prominent groups like the Freedom and Liberation Party, the Secessionist Union, and the People's Occupation getting more attention, the GE fleet simply managed to avoid being pinned down for a long enough period of time to crush them once and for all.
It wasn't until February of this year when the Galodew Emancipation finally came back into the spotlight in a very unexpected way. When URF-aligned hackers began seeding Waypoint networks with propaganda claiming that two "Covenant Battleships" had been destroyed by GE ships, ONI immediately took notice. Aside from the minor embarrassment of an Insurrectionist group being more proactive in defending a human colony than local UNSC forces, the chance for some kind of cooperation with the rebels was obvious. The Covenant's genocidal intentions were undeniable by now, as the Galodew Emancipation should've known. Their offworld hideout in the Restow system had been destroyed by a Covenant scout fleet at the very start of the war, causing plenty of discontent between them and other Insurrectionist groups that imagined they could reach some form of agreement with the aliens according to ONI.
In general, the Covenant also never let the loss of a few scouts deter them from further incursions into a system. If the GE could be convinced to work with the UNSC before a proper Covenant fleet arrived, then they stood a much better chance of preventing what neither group wanted: the complete obliteration of all life on Galodew. That was why ONI had instructed their local agents to seek out Richard Hausvek, the illusive self-styled "High Marshall" of the Galodew Emancipation, to arrange a meeting. Meanwhile, Rebane had been placed in charge of Battlegroup 104 of the Fourth Fleet and sent out from Asmara to oversee the defense plan.
This wasn't unprecedented. Last year, a URF flotilla had taken advantage of the confusion caused by the war to reestablish their outpost near Bomogin in the Sorong system after it was quashed a few years prior. When a Covenant fleet arrived in-system in July, the rebels had cooperated with the local UNSC and CMA squadrons to try and fight back. The key word there was "try", because the Covenant wound up destroying over 20 ships for no losses of their own and glassing the colony.
Unfortunately, as he took in more intel reports from confused Army forces on the ground, Rebane doubted he would be coordinating anything other than what his flagship was designed for: a planetary invasion.
So far, he'd seen enough to hold off on deploying his battlegroup's marine, and had informed the Army officers who seemed to be deferring to him to hunker down and wait. He had good reason to do so, he hoped: on only a few occasions had Army facilities been targeted. Most of the time, their involvement was purely incidental or initiated by aggressive local commanders. The rest of the violence was centered around areas suspected or verified by ONI to be the locations of rebel cells.
In other words, the Galodew Emancipation was tearing itself apart. The question was, why? None of ONI's contacts inside the terrorist group had reported in yet, a very abnormal turn of events. ONI was so secretive and compartmentalized that it was impossible for all of their agents to be located in one fell swoop. Either they were laying low until they could verify what was going on…or they were responsible for what was going on. The Rear Admiral doubted it was the latter, because Naval Intelligence could at least lay claim to numerous operations that involved far more…finesse than this string of violent incidents.
As the Rear Admiral continued poring over incident reports, he was suddenly joined by a green hued figure who appeared on the holotable. This was Dörich, the "Smart" AI tasked with assisting battlegroup 104. The AI's avatar, a mustachioed man dressed in a fine suit, was inspired by a UN double agent who had infiltrated the Frieden movement in the 2160s and passed on crucial intelligence that helped end the Jovian Moons campaign.
"Well sir, it appears someone's finally come out to explain themselves. We're receiving a transmission from right about here-" he pointed towards the hologram of the colony, which suddenly magnified to display the source of this request, deep within a treacherous and mostly unexplored mountain range on the southern continent.
Rebane stood up straight. "Really now? No spoofing, no encryption?"
"None whatsoever."
"Which means the GE just revealed their primary hideout," the Rear Admiral stated.
"Most likely as an act of good faith, sir."
Rebane nodded. "Just patch them through so we can let Hausvek explain himself."
But Richard Hausvek was not the man who appeared on the holodisplay to greet him.
Rebane had reviewed the intel on Hausvek, and he seemed as intimidating as he was charismatic: tall, a well-trimmed beard, ex-military physique, and hard to pin-down age-wise, though records indicated he'd been born in 2472.
The individual sitting behind a bullet-ridden desk before him only had the beard, and it was considerably more messy and lighter than Hausvek's. His narrow face exuded exhaustion-the parts not covered by bandages, which were also all over his right arm. A pair of masked guards stood on either side of him in the scarred room, while a gaudy banner covered in revolutionary slogans and sigils hung from the wall behind him.
Dörich didn't need to be asked before he provided an explanation, and the screen was sono overlaid with various photos and records of the battered man.
"Eamon Chautemps. Leader of the Wusi cell of the Galodew Emancipation and the mastermind behind several attacks, including the Bonder-Mendoza prison break."
Rebane recalled that incident well: several hundred GE fighters and notorious criminals had wound up escaping into the Galodew countryside as a result. Rebane had his own suggestions on how rebel prisoners should've been dealt with, not that he would utter them right then. Chautemps was certainly a province-level leader of some renown, but the excerpts provided onscreen confirmed that he was still nowhere near Hausvek's inner circle.
Wary of letting his thoughts drift for too long, Rebane checked the screen again only to see that the other man hardly seemed bursting with anticipation to get down to business. In fact, he was starting to slouch in his seat, likely waiting for the Rear Admiral to initiate the discussion.
Rebane decided to oblige him by asking the most important question on his mind.
"So. Eamon Chautemps. Tell me, why isn't High Marshall Hausvek the one contacting me right now?"
The younger man straightened instantly and began a gradual explanation.
"Oh, I'm afraid Richard and many of his advisors didn't see eye-to-eye with the rest of us on how negotiations should proceed. They started to become very…fixated on the idea that we could extract concessions from the UNSC in exchange for helping to fight the aliens. Such as…" Chautemps paused for an awkward length of time before he spat out his explanation. "...autonomy for the Gindenn system.
Rebane's nostrils flared, and though he wasn't sure the sound came through on the Innies' end, Chautemps still twitched back slightly at the mere motion of the Rear Admiral.
The idea that these terrorists would hope to strike a bargain with the UEG was absurd. The Gindenn system had no shipbuilding facilities or raw ore deposits worth speaking of. Even if they did receive some form of autonomy, it would still be the UNSC Navy that did the fighting and dying to keep them safe from the Covenant.
While he went over the stupidity laid out before him some more, Eamon went on.
"I merely took the initiative and acted on the will of the people to ensure that our cooperation could proceed without any disagreements."
"There seems to have been some minor discontent with your approach."
Chautemps glanced at his bandaged arm. "Just personally ensuring that the peaceful transition of power goes forward…" he trailed off.
Rebane decided to keep the pressure up.
"You know, the location of your hideout is the perfect target for a pair of 90C1E1 Mass accelerator slugs, and with absolutely no risk of collateral damage."
Every man in the room visibly stiffened at the statement, even the once stoic guards.
"No, that's not necessary," Chautemps started cautiously, then grew more frantic. "Please understand, Hausvek, he had a dead man's switch. The disinfo was flowing everywhere, I couldn't stop it. They called me an ONI puppet, they said your Army was making a move. We've been trying to stop the rogue cells, not help them. Most of them have already been dealt with. We're more than ready to help fight the aliens now, I assure you!"
Rear Admiral Rebane kept his expression neutral, but inside he was feeling quite satiated. Whatever the truth of this man's putsch, he seemed quite cowed by the vagaries of wrangling a planet-wide terrorist movement that didn't wholly accept his leadership, all while he lay under the guns (now literally) of the UNSC.
"Then we can look forward to meeting with your space forces?" he finally inquired.
"Ah, of course. They're waiting on the nighttime half of the planet with your local squadron."
"Perfect. I'll be rendezvousing with them shortly," Rebane replied triumphantly.
Chautemps' face brightened weakly. "Great…I hope you have a very…democratic planning session."
Rebane gave an amused nod and terminated the transmission.
His worries soothed, the Rear Admiral took a contemplative glance around the bridge. His flagship was part of the newest block of the Orion-class Assault carriers. So new, in fact, that they were usually named after battles fought during the Insurrection. In this case, Teribus Island was named after the highly successful takeover of the namesake island on Eridanus II during Operation Charlemagne. As an Assault Carrier, it was packed with far more pelicans and gunships than most UNSC carriers, but not quite as many marines as the 2200-meter long ship could've carried. No, the Orion-class was fitted for a very different role.
"Dörich, give me a status update on the factories."
"All production facilities are standing by at 99.95% readiness, sir."
Orion-class carriers devoted a considerable portion of their internals to automated factories, allowing the ships to support ground operations for an extended period of time depending on how many raw materials were on hand. In this case, 4th Fleet HQ had selected the Teribus Island in the hopes that it could be used to provide the Galodew Emancipation with better weapons…assuming they were willing to cooperate.
"Good, fire them up while we're on course to the defense fleet. If we find ourselves regretting this…well, there's a good chance we won't have to worry for long."
—
"Where's the Gindenn system defense fleet?" Rebane barreled into the conversation without mincing words.
"This is the defense fleet. Half of our ships were redeployed to counter the Covenant," came the exasperated reply from Captain Gabiden Muso, current commander of the Navy's local defense squadron. Rebane cursed himself for not confirming this in advance. Although the Gindenn system once boasted a respectable Naval force for an outer colony given the ever-present threat of the Galodew Emancipation Navy, the drastic shift in priorities brought on by the Covenant threat should've been obvious. He was now far less confident in his chances of repelling the Covenant after seeing what was available to supplement his fleet.
The Gindenn patrol squadron was currently waiting in formation over the planetary capital of Peytonville. Only 11 ships on the holodisplay were noteworthy, the rest being simple short-range patrol vessels.
Of those, only 3 were of any use against the Covenant. There was Muso's flagship, the Arcturus-class missile cruiser Fomalhaut, which had at least been upgraded with a MAC cannon. The 900-meter light cruiser still possessed its half-dozen nuclear missile silos, which could be painful-with the right timing, that is. There were also the Lancer-class attack corvettes Manitou and Main Duck, two ships that were packed with coilguns and might be more than a nuisance to smaller Covenant vessels. Aside from that, the 3 Scholte-class missile boats led by the Galway and 5 Osa-class corvettes led by the Babeldaob would only be nuisances in the event of a fight.
With only 3 ships of any effectiveness to help them out, battlegroup 104's 28 ships might still have seemed imposing…if they were fighting the Galodew emancipation. Given her importance to this operation specifically and as a carrier, Teribus Island would have to give the coming fight a wide berth, carefully coordinating with other ships to deploy its twin Heavy MAC guns effectively. The ship was supported by the old Noryang-class light carrier Amacayacu serving in a fleet carrier role, and local space stations operated by the air force could at least provide additional fighters to help even the odds.
For cruisers, Rebane only had the bog-standard Marathon-class Comet Ballet and two old CMA Vulcan-class hunks of junk: Surtr and Angrboða. He would've liked to have a Marathon or two, but the past year's unprecedented losses meant that 4th fleet was becoming stingy with the newer ships.
His escorts consisted of 9 Chimera-class destroyers, the predecessor to the Halberd, and 12 Charon-class frigates. These ships would be divided into 3 groups led by one of his Able-class heavy destroyers: Noctus, Calcutta, and Seadragon. Lastly, he had a few support ships and a mobile drydock.
Overall, the battlegroup had the potential to fold more quickly than it seemed. Rebane could already identify numerous shortcomings: the relatively underpowered main guns of the Chimeras, the generally underwhelming nature of the Charons, and of course, the lack of local support. Even the Able-class destroyers weren't flawless. The older ships were manned by Naval reservists who were still being educated on the capabilities of the Covenant before being assigned to battlegroup 104. Admiral Cole's Gorgon they most definitely were not.
"Dörich, contact one of ONI's Prowlers and tell them to head for the nearest 3rd Fleet rendezvous point. See if Cole can spare a Marathon and some heavy frigates."
Before heading out to Galodew, Rebane had received reports that Vice Admiral Cole's 3rd fleet had just smashed a small Covenant foray near Unasana in February, and numerous elements of his fleet were sure to be dispersed in several sectors adjacent to Harvest while that had occurred. Because there was no such thing as "too many ships" when dealing with the Covenant, Rebane was certain that Cole would be willing to lend him a hand. All he had to do was play it safe for a few weeks.
Fortunately, he did have one more source of immediate aid.
Finally, the Rear Admiral turned his attention towards the second gaggle of ships arrayed on the holodisplay. There, a hodge-podge of stolen warships, modified civilian ships, and scratch-built vessels constructed in hidden Innie shipyards waited impatiently for him to let them on the plan.
Just like the UNSC defense squadron, only a dozen or so ships were of any value to him. The cargo ships carved open and refitted as missile barges would be nothing but annoyances to the Covenant, and the makeshift corvettes built by the rebels would be long-lasting annoyances.
On the display, Dörich had helpfully provided two names for the ships Rebane was looking over: their commissioned name, and the one provided by the GE's transponder signals.
Their makeshift fleet was centered around 2 Superb-class frigates, the predecessor to the Charon. The flagship, formerly Kalbarri, now went by Giovanni dalle Bande Nere, although her sister Grecale hadn't been renamed. They also had two Lancers of their own, the unchanged Lightning and the Raconteur (formerly the UNSC South Fox). Three old Mako-class corvettes were there as well: the Kazenstein's Revenge (Nauru), Opaque blade (Inisturk), and Starving artist (Isla Lennox). The remaining 3 Scholte-class missile boats, 3 Akita-class missile boats, and lone Sharpfin-class corvette were just as unremarkable as their UNSC counterparts despite sporting Insurrectionist paint jobs.
"Sir, you should be aware of ONI records indicating that the GE has more ships at their disposal than what we're seeing here."
Dörich brought up a list of warships for the Rear Admiral to examine. Rebane took one look at the list, saw that the missing ships were all missile boats at best, and looked away dismissively. He wasn't surprised that the rebels were trying to hedge their bets, all he really cared about was seeing that every ship of theirs worth a damn was accounted for. Did they really think they could brave occupied Covenant space? They were welcome to try.
"Patch us through to their flagship," he ordered.
"The Nere is already hailing us, sir," Dörich noted.
Rebane tried not to roll his eyes at the sight of what awaited him on the other end of the transmission. Dressed in a patchwork of archaic clothes complete with golden epaulets, the apparent leader of the GE fleet had already struck a bold pose in anticipation of their conversation. Beneath the brim of his anachronistic peaked hat, two brilliant green eyes watched the Rear Admiral flippantly.
"So, the slayer of the Bellicose finally joins the war," the younger man started. "Be careful, I've heard that 4-to-1 odds aren't so safe for your Navy anymore.
Now allow me to introduce myself. I am Admiral-"
"Humberto Martoccia, yes, I have your service record right here." Rebane cut the man's long-winded introduction off, not wanting either to humor him or waste time.
"Let's get one thing straight here: I'm the only Admiral in the system right now, Ensign, and your pirates will follow my plan. You can start by providing me with the real data about your encounter with the Covenant last month."
The self-styled Admiral straightened out at Rebane's words, a leftover instinct from his time in the Navy. Martoccia watched him exasperatedly, then tapped a button on the armrest of the leather command chair behind him.
"It's done," he declared brusquely. The other man made no move to disable the transmission, instead simply sitting in his command chair and waiting silently.
Rebane's worst suspicions were quickly realized as he looked over the rebel files. Footage released over waypoint had been carefully edited to show the spectacular destruction of both alien ships, but not what exactly they were. Now, Rebane knew why: what the rebels called "battleships" were actually two DAS-class cutters. At 225 meters long, the DAS was one of the smallest Covenant ships encountered and one of the few so weak that their shields could be broken by massed missile volleys, as the Galodew Emancipation ships had done when they got in range.
Self-aggrandizing propaganda aside, the rebels had certainly learned the wrong lessons about the Covenant's capabilities from this engagement, and Rebane would have to dispel them of those notions quickly.
Insurrectionist groups frequently pushed the idea that the UNSC was deliberately fighting the Covenant halfheartedly at the expense of rebellious outer colonies. But Rebane had devoured reports from a dozen engagements before setting off to this system, and he knew better. The truth was that the UNSC was fighting the Covenant at every turn; they were stretching the sparse logistical capacity of their frontier to its limits with how many warships were being sent out…and it still wasn't enough.
Rebane considered the words of his unlikely ally, and his thoughts drifted back to that fateful day over 20 years ago…
The day the Bellicose finally got what was coming to her.
He wouldn't deny the fear he'd felt at the time. As the skipper of the old, unmodified Resolute-class destroyer Rhandeia, he had engaged the turncoat frigate and its added MAC with nothing but missiles and good luck. Martoccia's snide words denied the reality of the situation: all four destroyers had the same obsolete armament, which was part of why the Bellicose was able to severely damage two of them. It was only thanks to the cool headedness of Rebane and the captain of the remaining destroyer that the Bellicose was condemned to a painful fall into the atmosphere of a gas giant.
Yes, Rebane had no firsthand experience fighting the Covenant, but he understood the nature of the average fight against them more than most in the Navy.
That was one old friend he never wanted to meet with again.