Chapter 1 – Electiones

July 28th, 2543 (15:35 Hours)

Sol System, Earth

Chicago, United Republic of North America

101 days after Admiral Preston Cole's Last Stand at the Battle of Psi Serpentis

:********:

"Helljumper, helljumper, where you been?

Feet first into hell and back again!"

His dad had taught him that. As a child he would poke and prod him about his job on the rare occasions when he was home. Blue Visors. Black boots. One-way missions and pods that offered rides unlike any rollercoaster. It was a single drop, and whether it landed you in heaven or hell was the result of a fine cocktail mix of skill and blind luck, but it was often the latter.

When his dad had taught him the cadence, he would sing it almost every morning. After saying goodbye to his mom, he would take his backpack, rush out the door and down the street. He would jog to the school-shuttle singing it under his breath. Oftentimes he would struggle with his pack while an imaginary drill instructor roared at him to keep pace with both song and step. The other kids would stare at him once he got there as they tried to figure out why he was so pumped to go somewhere they would rather avoid. Ignoring the stares came easily enough, because what they didn't know was that he was 'pumped' for something completely different, and if he had to charge his way through elementary school to get there then that left only one option.

"When I die please bury me deep!

Place an MA5 down by my feet!"

Right now, those stares were baring into the back of his head, just as much as the sight of the open casket lying in front of him bore into his soul. He had forced himself to take one heavy step after another until he reached it. He didn't dare look at the face inside. Instead, he placed a rose on top of the growing pile of flowers laid over the casket. But his eyes betrayed him and he glanced at the opening.

There his mother's face that was usually warm and filled with affection was cold, pale and the doll-like texture of the skin courtesy of embalming made it seem like it wasn't her. For a moment he entertained the idea of it being some fake, that she had used a replica in place of the real deal. Then memory squelched the thought once it took him back to that morning two weeks ago when the doctors had come out to them in the main foyer of the hospital and shook their heads. His mother's battle with lung-cancer brought on by years of obsessive smoking was over. The frail, lifeless body he found lying in her hospital bed testified to who had won that fight.

"Don't cry for me, don't shed no tear!

Just pack my box with PT gear!"

Addiction. It was something that she had used to balance her juggling act of two realities: being both a mother and a widow.

He had only just turned six years old when he first saw the officers coming up the steps onto their front porch. He'd gone out just behind his mother and watched from the door. The officers used a data pad to project the image of his dad's face with dark buzz-cut hair, piercing blue eyes, a tough jawline, and a confident smile. He didn't see the 'status' listing next to it or the words "KIA". Being silly he had thought that they accidentally gave his dad a girl's name. But everything became clear once his mother fell to her knees, shaking. Even today he could still remember how she wailed as the officers tried to help her back onto her feet. Their condolences never drowned out the sorrow he heard that day.

There was no body. Just a notification he was gone. It was that way for many families that lost loved ones in the most recent war faced by humanity and the UNSC. That fact didn't make it any easier for those left behind.

Back then, the Harvest Campaigns had been grinding out more and more devastating losses of life every day. Even with a naval genius of a man like Admiral Cole at the helm, the fighting on that world proved little more than one bloody stalemate after another. That wasn't to knock Cole's leadership, but to attest to the nigh unstoppable nature of the new enemy they now faced.

The strange amalgamation of aliens known collectively as the Covenant were a threat that seemingly materialized from the farthest depths of the galaxy. They also couldn't have come at a worse time. The UNSC was already struggling to deal with the Insurrection in the outer colonies which had risen to a fever pitch by the time of first contact. Still, upon arrival the aliens quickly stole the show. While the Insurrectionists had bombed ships, destroyed military installations and even fought toe to toe with the Navy, they had never torched an entire planet.

Once the Covenant had discovered more human worlds, the term "glassing" became a familiar word to the masses. Leaked images started to show more and more colonies reduced to glowing balls of radioactive destruction. Places like Biko, Bliss, Circinius IV and Hat Yai were ones where even the mere mention was enough to change the atmosphere of the most jovial conversation to a solemn one. Despite the losses, humanity had at least won at the second battle of Harvest. That said, it still bore its own weight in blood, and at least one of its casualties had hit far too close to home.

The week after the telegram, another letter had arrived for them. It was from his dad, sent before he died presumably. Knowing he would miss his son's birthday while on deployment. He had wanted to make it up to him by sending him a rock or other souvenir from another world. It was a simple gift: a granite rock the size of his fist from the farthest flung colony world of Harvest. He would never know that his son would always keep that rock on him at all times. It was the closest thing he had to the man himself being back home. Yet his mother was left to cling to what jobs she could find and to what relief she could get. Thanks to one too many nights of cigarettes, eventually her son was the one taking care of her.

After graduating from high school, he skipped college and immediately jumped into the Marine Corps Reserves. The goal at the time was a lofty one, join the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers and serve in the war effort against the Covenant like his Father had. Then his mom's failing health stalled that dream indefinitely. He didn't want her to be alone, not at a time when she needed someone by her side, so he stayed.

"Cuz one early morning 'bout zero-five!

The ground will rumble, there'll be lightning in the sky!"

Thunder resounded through the dark clouds that had come to blanket the morning skies over Chicago. They released a growing torrent of rain on the bustling city below that started off as a shower and was gradually becoming harder with each passing minute. The bad weather had caused the funeral of Lian Iris to be sped up a bit. After a few rushed speeches by distant relatives and coworkers that knew her, the entire thing was over.

Now, the casket was being lowered into the newest of many graves within the old Saint Mary's Catholic Church cemetery. Most of the gathering hadn't even stayed long after the casket itself was fully closed. The procession of men and women in dark-suits, dresses and umbrellas dispersed towards the entrance, leaving Lian's son to his lonesome.

Well that wasn't exactly true. A gentle squeeze by the woman holding his left hand reminded him he still had company. His own azure pupils shifted beneath his damp, black hair to look to his left. Both his own hand and that of the other shared the same silver rings. He looked up to meet her emerald gaze already looking out the corner of her eyes at him, gauging his response.

She looked strikingly beautiful in her black dress and heels. Despite the way her long blonde hair whipped about in the wind, she seemed unabated by it. It just added to a sense of quiet love and strength that she tended to exude at times when her husband could not. This was one of those times, and it never ceased to amaze him that he had had the good sense to give her the ring and his last name like he did.

"Ready?" She asked in a gentle voice that managed to reach him above the howling wind.

He turned back to the grave at his feet and tried taking a breath to steady himself. Before he could answer, he caught sight of a new arrival.

"Don't you worry, don't come undone

It's just my ghost on a PT run!"

The shock only lasted a moment. The man was the spitting image of his Father, at least how he would have looked had he lived a bit longer. A number of wrinkles creased his face while there were none to be spoken of in the crisp black and gray recruitment officer fatigues that he wore. Eyes that had probably seen the worst life had to offer and still come out sane looked with a sense of finality on the casket below. The man reverently kneeled down to drop a single flower onto the smooth fiber-glass surface below. Then his attention flitted to the couple standing nearby.

He stood up straight and brushed some water off his fatigues as he strode over to them.

"I guess I'm late." He said in a raspy voice. "Erica, its good to see you."

Erica gave a smile and accepted a hug from him. "Hey Rick." Rick turned to the one who was the real center of concern.

"How're you handling, D?"

Duncan couldn't find the right words to muster beyond "Alright, I guess."

His Uncle Richard, or Rick as he had grownup calling him, could easily sense what lay behind his words. Pain. He rested a hand on his shoulder and turned to Erica. "Can I borrow him for a minute?"

She looked between the two and nodded. "I'll meet you by the gate."

"Don't worry about that, I'll drive him home."

There was a flash of confusion on Erica's face. It faded once she understood what was really going on. "Okay, drive safely, alright?"

Rick snapped off a two-fingered salute. "Will do, mam." They both watched her stride across the wet grass and waited until she had disappeared beyond the gate. Without saying a word, they started along the cobblestone path leading up to the entrance. Both men knew exactly what this conversation would be about and neither was willing to entertain it until they were clear of the rows of gravestones. Duncan figured that his uncle asked for Erica's permission to talk to him rather than his own because he already knew that his nephew wouldn't say no to what he had to offer.

They made their way across the street and walked along a small plaza. Along the way, Duncan caught sight of a coffee shop where everyone inside was gathered around the News Displays. He briefly spotted a Waypoint reporter with an image of Admiral Preston Cole beside them. He could overhear what was being said. Words like "a day of great victory", "great loss", and "a day of mourning" stuck out to him. Thankfully, they didn't hurt as much as they did earlier.

"You heard about Cole, right?" Rick asked.

Duncan nodded and tore his attention away from the screens. "Yeah, I saw an earlier newscast."

"Turning a brown dwarf into a star?" His uncle huffed, shaking his head. "That's one hell of a last stand. I mean sure he took an entire armada of Covenant uglies out with him, but I don't know if I could go out like that myself. I'd prefer my boots on the ground."

There it was. He had to hand it to the old man that age hadn't made him any less sharp, or any less subtle. Still he didn't capitalize on the topic yet. Instead he let it sit there for now.

The two came to a parking lot on the opposite side of the road. They scanned along rows of cars for a full minute until they found their ride. It was an M12 Light Reconnaissance Vehicle or 'Warthog' so named for its thick armored carriage, all-terrain rubber wheels and a tusk-like tow rope mounted to the front. It lacked the hulking turret that was usually attached to the back. That didn't take much away from its imposing stature.

Rick hopped into the driver's seat while Duncan took shotgun. With a turn of the keys in the ignition the vehicle roared to life.

They slipped out of the lot and through a labyrinth of busy streets before settling on an interstate highway. They headed south, away from the storm. It was after the last of the rain had fallen behind them that Rick finally spoke up.

"So, what's the story now, D?"

"No story, Uncs. Just life." Duncan replied with a palpable measure of apathy in his voice.

"…You sure about that?"

This wasn't the first time his uncle had tried to recruit him for the ODSTs. He had started on his case once Duncan had become a Marine Reserve. That showed he had the potential. But as his uncle concluded after numerous failed attempts to convince him to join up, what he lacked was the willingness. But now even that had to change and both of them knew it.

Rick drove them off the main highway and over a roundabout leading them onto a busy intersection. They had to stop for the light.

"You know, Cole was something of a hero of mine." Duncan said. "In high school I had to read up on all his old essays. The man practically predicted the Insurrection before the first shot was even fired, and he was only a teen when he wrote it. A 'teen'. I read up on other stuff like the articles of the Cole Protocol too and each of his major engagements with the Covenant for history classes. The man was a genius."

Duncan felt a heaviness settle in his heart at the praise he was now giving to a man he had idealized to the same degree as his Father, until having found out this morning that he had died almost half a year ago. His voice fell to a hoarse whisper. "He was all we really had between us…and them."

"Sounds like you're using his 'genius' as an excuse not to do anything yourself."

That stung, but in a way that only his uncle could do it and not be insulting. Duncan shook his head. "No, it's not that. It's just that-"

"What difference would it make if one more grunt joined the war effort compared to losing a hero like that? That's what you were thinking, right?"

Though he didn't want to admit it, his uncle had stolen the words right out of his mouth.

"Let me tell you something, D. What humanity needs today is not what it needed a few years ago. Maybe a hero would have sufficed when there were still outer colonies to protect. But times have changed. People don't need another hero like Cole, they need more grunts like you and me who are willing to grab a rifle and hold the line even if we know that we can't do it forever. And I know your dad would have thought the same way."

That stung too.

Duncan hadn't even realized that he was rolling around the rock from Harvest in his pants pocket. He stopped once he did. In some way holding it felt like being rebuked, especially after what Rick had said.

He bit back. "One man doesn't amount to much against a Covenant ship glassing a planet from orbit."

Rick shrugged. "No. But a Shock Trooper could amount to something, at least more than a charred body could that didn't try to do anything more than the bare minimum."

Rick was on a roll, and he had to have known that. He was breaking down his nephew's best arguments one after another for why he couldn't sign up. And slowly, Duncan felt himself being convinced. He didn't like it to say the least.

"Why don't you just admit it?" Rick asked.

"Admit what?"

Since the light was still red, his uncle turned fully to face him. "Admit the truth. You're not sold on the idea that being a soldier is meaningless. You're not scared of being glassed from orbit or dying in an out of control pod. I know you, deep down you're still that same kid that wanted to become a Helljumper while others his age were too busy picking their noses with their pencils. I know you, D."

Duncan felt the irritation boiling in his veins. He turned to face his uncle full on. "Why!? Why do you want me to join up so bad!? Why're you so eager to send me out there just so I can end up like dad, and leave Erica struggling to cope for the rest of her life? What, you haven't met your recruitment quota for the damned yet or something?"

The two stared the other down for seconds. It felt like an eternity. At length it was Rick who looked away as the light turned green. He drove them across the intersection and into the files of fast-moving traffic headed west, further towards the downtown area.

They let the silence of blaring horns and roaring engines simmer the growing heat between them. Rick was again the first to speak up. "My little brother, your father, was not damned. He was one of the first ODSTs to face those animals. We were in different battalions so we experienced different things, sure, you can argue that. However, while we were often sent into hell, we never once thought for a second that we were damned."

Duncan released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"The reason I want you to join up is not to get you killed." Rick said, eying the youth in his rear-view mirror. "It's because I want you to finally come alive, to live the life you know you always wanted, not an easy one but one that carries weight."

Duncan met his gaze and again the two were staring the other down. Eventually it was Duncan who gave up and settled his attention on the dashboard with arms folded.

"I know you stayed here with the Reserves because you didn't want to leave them; your mother and Erica I mean." Rick said. "I know it feels like it's too soon. That doesn't make it any less necessary to approach you about this. Because more worlds are being taken with each passing day. If there was ever a time for such an important decision to be made, its's now. What do you say, D?"

Duncan took another heavy breath and exhaled slowly. "Tell me something first. Why'd you join up?"

"Me?"

"Yeah."

Rick thought it over as he pulled them off the highway and into a cluster of high-rise apartments. "I did it because I had asked myself two questions and had the balls to answer them both."

"What were they?"

"It's something you'll have to answer for yourself when you go out there. The first…is that you'll have to decide if we're really worth saving."

Now his uncle could feel him staring at him. He had his full, undivided attention. "The second." He brought the Warthog to a stop and pulled in along a sidewalk. "Well, the second question will reveal itself by the way you answer the first."

"Sounds like a copout, Uncs." Duncan said. "Weren't you just calling me out earlier for doing something similar?"

Rick ignored him and pointed behind his nephew. "We're here."

Duncan winced. He hadn't even noticed that they had already pulled up at his apartment building. He spotted the yellow Kabord parked a few vehicles ahead that proved Erica was already home. She had probably taken the more direct route.

Duncan threw his legs out the passenger section and swung down to the sidewalk.

"Take some time, D. Think about it." Rick said.

Duncan gave him a curt nod. "We'll see what happens."

He watched his uncle pull off and disappear around the corner. He had made sure to hide it well, but that conversation had shaken him, because while he always suppressed that voice that told him he could do more, he couldn't do the same with his uncle. In less than a few minutes he had poked holes through all of his excuses, even the ones he hadn't brought up directly. It showed him just how flimsy they really were. Using them for years like he did was able to work solely because he was too afraid to think any different.

Every excuse was gone. Every argument made null and void. Nothing was stopping him from going and everything in him was screaming that he should go.

Then one thought reminded him that he still had one good reason to stay. He turned back up to his apartment. He felt heavy with each step he took as he headed for the front doors.

:********:

Erica dipped her hands into the basin and washed off her face with the water streaming out of the faucet. When she finished, she pressed the touch-display on the faucet and it shut off. Her hands clung warily to her face. She managed the strength to pry them apart and look at her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

She looked fine. She felt sick. It wasn't because of the most recent funeral for her mother-in-law. In the back of her mind she had already accepted that Lian would pass on and fairly soon. She hadn't been wrong in that but tried to help Duncan with her the best she could and to support him when it ultimately happened.

If it wasn't the funeral then what was it? Her mind flitted to Rick's arrival and his request to talk to Duncan. Immediately she felt her stomach tighten. She felt ready to throw up but placed her hands on her abdomen to steady herself.

She gave a long sigh. That was half of it, fear. Fear that this may be the day that Rick finally managed to break through to the part of her husband that she knew was always there. Moreover, she feared that she would lose him for good to the war raging amongst the stars if he finally changed his mind.

Then there was nervousness.

Her attention flitted to the pregnancy test resting on the bathroom table. The slide in the middle showed positive. That was another reason to worry.

Erica had known Duncan since they were kids. They had both gone to the same elementary, middle and high school together. They were always a part of each other's lives. At first, they had just been childhood friends. To her he always seemed to be "on a mission" for lack of a better phrase. Even in the games he played with her he was always the overly determined type. She had found that to be one of his most endearing traits. That endearing trait turned into something else, however, once they entered high school. They had both started seeing each other differently then.

From childhood friends to high-school lovers, they had gotten married a few years after. He had supported her while she went off to university and he to the Marine Reserves. Then they came back together after her graduation. Today, something more was in store for them, and only one of them was currently aware of it. And, depending on what her husband had to say to her once he got back, it may very well stay that way for some time.

Erica dried her face, wrapped the pregnancy test in a napkin and hid it away in her pocket. She gave a sharp exhale then walked out into the rest of their apartment where there were pictures everywhere, chronicling their lives together. She settled in the living room couch and never got the chance to close her eyes as the front door opened.

A second later Duncan walked in. His face suggested that a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Coincidence?

"Hey hun." She said, doing her best to disguise the nervousness in her voice. "How'd it go?"

Duncan seemed tired as he did a U-turn and walked towards the couch. He threw himself into the unoccupied half of the couch and sank into the pillows.

"Rick's as relentless as always." He sighed.

Erica nodded, reaching for a glass of water and handing it to him. "I can see that. It looks like he really drilled you this time."

Duncan knocked back half the glass before resting it on the table. "He really did." His gaze began to focus on the carpeted floor near Erica's feet. His eyes looked heavy. She could tell he was struggling with something.

"Hey babe…what if, um…what if I went away…for a while?"

Erica cocked her head at him. "You mean on a vacation or something?"

"No-no-no. I mean, on a job." His eyes were coming closer to hers but not exactly past her shoulder. "Like, if my company is pulled out from the reserves to serve as reinforcements for some frontline regiment. I mean it happens all the time, and you can't ever predict when the axe will fall."

She hated that analogy for more reasons than one. Though she forced herself to look outwardly calm and confused, inside she was falling apart. She knew exactly where this conversation was going. Her heart was beating fast. Rick had actually managed to pull it off this time. He'd reached Duncan. The funeral had probably done the job of knocking something loose inside of him that had kept his ears closed to what his uncle had to say.

"Erica?"

She snapped back to reality. Duncan was looking at her, visibly worried. "You're looking a little pale. Need some water?"

"No, I'm-, I'm good."

The tension in the air was rising. They could both feel it.

Duncan leaned forward and folded his hands, his brow creased. There was no point skirting around it anymore so he let it out.

"I'm thinking about joining the ODSTs."

To both their surprise, the heaviness in the room dispelled rather than intensify like they expected. It took a moment for them to realize that they had long since accepted this as an inevitability.

Erica still found her mouth feeling dry at the announcement. "I know."

"You do?" This time Duncan fully met her eyes with his own.

Erica gave a light laugh. She took the glass of water from the table and finished it. "It's not that hard to believe. You've wanted to do it for years, haven't you?"

Duncan blushed. "Well, yeah. That doesn't mean that I should." He wasn't expecting her to suddenly lay her head against his chest like she did without warning. She could hear his heartbeat, and it eased her somewhat.

"It means that you want to."

"Is that what I really want?"

Erica raised a half-sarcastic brow at him. "I've been trying to figure that out for the better part of a few years myself. I think we both know you were in denial."

"Maybe." Duncan huffed.

"I'd be lying to you if I told you that I wasn't just as much in denial about it as you were though." Duncan arched his own inquisitive brow down at her.

"What do you mean?"

Erica got up a little and nuzzled herself into the cruck of his neck. "It's because I'm selfish. I'd rather keep you all to myself rather than risk losing you."

Duncan winced at that. He wrapped her in his arms and rested his head on hers. "But you're not losing me."

Erica slowly rose up from under him and planted her hand firmly on his chest, pushing him back slightly. "Yes." She said. "I am. Duncan Iris, I want you all for myself. But more importantly, I want you to do what you've always dreamed of doing since we were kids. I'm tired of watching you debate this in your head, and I'm not about to serve as your excuse to stay here either."

"What are you saying exactly?"

Erica inched up to his face until their foreheads touched.

"Go."

There it was. "I'll still be here when you get back. I can wait, but you've already waited long enough. Go."

Duncan swallowed the hard lump in his throat. "And if I don't come back?"

She shook her head. "Just promise me that you will, then I'll let you go."

Duncan's blue eyes stared deeply into her emerald ones. He could tell that she wasn't kidding, she wasn't backing down either. Neither was he. He willed the words out: "I promise. And I'll keep that promise."

Erica's eyes briefly widened then relaxed. A satisfied smile graced her face. "I know you will."

Like gravity they seemed to pull the other in closer until their lips finally met. They kissed, enjoying the closeness of the other, savoring their very presence, something that they knew would no longer be a constant in their lives. That fact didn't deny them the heaven they felt now. Right then, in that moment at least, they were together and no one could separate them. No one except themselves.

After a minute they pulled away. Erica lay her head back down on Duncan's chest as he leaned back into the couch. She felt the fabric of her pocket stretching the form of the test device hidden inside. For Duncan's sake, she had decided that it would remain hidden. She knew that what it indicated couldn't stay that way for long. Just long enough.

Duncan used his freehand to toy with the granite rock in his own pocket. The hard and aged exterior was beginning to resemble more and more his personal resolve that had formed back when he was a child. He closed his eyes and breathed in deep. He knew what needed to be done, and more importantly, that there was nothing in the way of him doing it.

Electiones - Choices