Chapter One: Crossing Paths
2362
Sol System, Orbital Station "Cairo"
James Cutter fussed with his cover as he approached the office of Fleet Admiral, Lord Terrence Hood. Satisfied, or as satisfied as he could be, Cutter knocked. "Enter," came the muffled reply. Cutter enters the large office. There, behind the desk, across the room, sits Fleet Admiral Hood. However, the woman standing in front of his desk gave Cutter pause. She was a short, copper-skinned woman with hair cut short and obsidian black. Her ears stood rigid and sharp, pointed at the tips. He recognized her as a Vulcan. The aliens, discovered by a colony ship and its escort in the Epsilon Eridani System, in orbit above Reach. 'What's she doing here?' Cutter wondered as he snapped to attention and saluted. "Captain James Cutter reporting as ordered, sir!" Lord Hood rose and returned the salute. "At ease, Captain." Cutter relaxed. "This," Hood says, gesturing to the woman next to him. "Is Sub-commander Sava Naren of the Vulcan Science Corps." The woman nodded but didn't speak. Cutter did the same. Hood continued, "she's being assigned as your XO aboard the Spirit of Fire." Cutter flinched internally but maintained his outward composure. He didn't hate Vulcans but he was a career soldier in command of a navy vessel, it was not the place for a scientist. Hood noticed the change in Cutter's demeanor, even without him saying anything. "I know it's unorthodox but as our alliance with the Vulcans is still developing, the central command thought it would be best to undertake a military exchange to build trust in and familiarity with the other technologies and tactics. "Understood sir," Cutter replies curtly, coming again to attention. Hood nods, "dismissed Captain," he turns to Sava who, Cutter noted, didn't stand in any form of attention when in the Admiral's presence. That kind of lax shit would not fly, not on his ship. "Report to the Spirit of Fire at once," he says, dismissing them both. Cutter salutes, "Admiral," Hood returns the salute. Before he can about-face and leave, he notices Sava walks past him and out of the office without saluting. His jaw tightens. After she leaves Cutter executes a smooth about-face and leaves after her. "Go easy on her Captain," Hood says, a smirk playing across his face.
"I do not understand the issue, Captain." Sava says standing across from Captain Cutter's desk. He had asked to see her immediately after they returned to the Spirit of Fire. "The issue Commander," Cutter says, temper in his voice, "is your lack of respect for authority." Sava doesn't answer right away. "If you're going to serve on my ship then you will do so my way, am I clear Commander?" Sava raises her eyebrows, "for an officer your emotional responses are quite illogical if I may say so Captain." That was it, she was out of line. Had she been a human sailor or marine and talked to him or any officer that way she'd be on the first shuttle home. But he was under orders from Admiral Hood; she had to stay. That was only true if she wanted to stay. And he had a plan for her and her attitude. "Commander," he began, an icy calm now in his voice. "I understand that our customs must seem foreign to you," he begins typing something on his desktop, "which is why I'm assigning you to Chief Petty Officer Randon to familiarize yourself with shipboard operations at the ground level." Sava nods in approval. "A logical suggestion, Captain." Cutter nods. "You will report to the Chief tomorrow at 0300 for PT, you're dismissed." Sava nods, turns and leaves his office. Cutter sighs, "Serena, anything come in while I was station-side?" He asks. "One communique," Serena replies in her cool, business-like voice. "It carries a standard O.N.I. encryption. Shall I display it?" Cutter raised an eyebrow. ONI usually handles their own missions. "Let's see it," he says as the report displays on his monitor.
Bajor System
The Winter-Class Prowler, Poltergeist slips gently into the atmosphere of Bajor IX. Captain Charlotte "Checkmate" Ortega monitors the ship's altitude. "Captain Ortega to Red Team," she says into the ships comm. "Red Team," comes the gruff reply from the other end. "We are in atmo, stand by for deployment." The reply came quickly, "Standing by Captain, and thanks for the ride." Ortega smiles, these Spartans were something else, but their results spoke for themselves. "Take us to 300 meters off the deck," Ortega instructs the bridge crew and the Poltergeist pitches into a steeper angle toward a small clearing on the planet's surface.
In the cargo bay stand three figures clad in green armor standing over two meters tall. Between the three is a single cargo crate wrapped in a special net and parachute cord. An alarm sounds and amber lights flash as the rear cargo hatch yawns open, cold air whips through the bay ruffling fabric covers and rattling loose panels. Without hesitation, Jerome steps to the edge of the ramp then turns to his two companions. "RV point is marked," he says. The soundproofing inside their helmets deafening the sound of the rushing wind. Inside their helmets a green marker indicates the intended point. "Red Team, move out." With this command Jerome jumps from the ramp and streaks planet side. Behind him the other two Spartans push the crate over the edge and fall with it. "092 good separation," Jerome says as his altimeter displays 200 meters to the planet's surface. "042 good separation," came Douglas' gruff voice over the comm. "130 good separation," Alice was the last to check in but not too late. "Red Team to Poltergeist Actual, we are clear."
From the bridge Captain Ortega heard as each of the three Spartans checked in. "Roger that, good hunting Red Team." She says into her comm before turning to her bridge crew. "Take us into orbit and establish overwatch, let's give them all the support we can." As swift as a bird on the wind, Poltergeist turned her nose and rocketed up and out of Bajor's atmosphere.
To someone on the surface, Red Team's deployment would appear as something out of a ghost story. The cool, quiet pre-dawn air began to shake with a tremendous roaring as if some monsters were barreling down on its helpless victim. As the roar reaches its zenith were one to look up, they would discern four dots appearing from nowhere. After a few seconds all four dots, three of them human sized, slam planet side. No sooner had their boots touched the ground then all three Spartan II's un-holstered their weapons and established a perimeter. "Red Team to Poltergeist Actual, assets are planet side." Jerome didn't wait for a reply; he immediately turned his attention to the mission. "Douglas, keep perimeter, Alice get our gear unpacked." Jerome ordered as he shouldered his SRS99 Sniper Rifle. "The first anomaly should be just through those trees," he says as he makes his way out of the clearing and into the thicket. After about twenty minutes Jerome exits the woods and finds himself on a cliff edge overlooking a camp of some kind. "Red Team to Poltergeist Actual target located, standby for Laz out." Dropping to a prone position, Jerome flicked a switch on the scope of his rifle and an infrared beam pointed directly at the center of the camp.
From her Captain's Station Captain Ortega watched as the Winter Class's powerful sensors and previously deployed camera drones fed real time topographical, thermal and electric readings back to the Poltergeist's computers. "What do you think Vincent?" A small image of a man in a gray suit with a long face and thin, pointed mustache appeared next to her left hand. "I'm detecting several hundred thermal signatures, most concentrated in four square structures on the northwest corner." Charlotte examined the holographic projection Vincent had displayed for her. "It looks like a prison to me," she said under her breath. "Mining camp more likely Captain," Vince chimed in. "Seismic scans have detected vast deposits of precious minerals in the cliffs surrounding the installation." "Even so," Charlotte countered, "look at the drone imagery." She switches the hologram to display a live drone feed of the camp. Through the wisps of clouds pale yellow lights dot the interior and perimeter of the compound. "There," Charlotte says, zooming in on a section of the northwest corner. At the joint where the two walls would meet is a large square, in the dim light, a figure can be seen walking into and out of that same square. "Guard towers," Vincent concluded. Charlotte nodded. "Whoever these people are, I doubt they're willfully employed. Update Red Team, find out the nature of the compound." "Yes Captain, transmitting now."
Jerome was still surveying the compound when his helmet pinged, and he saw a new marker on his HUD. This one pointed to the compound with the objective: "Investigate" tagged onto the arrow. 'Now that's more like it' he thought to himself. "Alice, sitrep," he asked into his radio. "130 reporting bivouac is established and concealed, perimeter secure, over." Jerome nodded, "understood, new orders from up top. I need you and Douglas here to cover me." "You are going in?" Alice asked, it was a rhetorical question of course, "always" he replied. "Copy that,'' Alice responds, "there in 10." Five minutes later the other two Spartan II's of Red Team slid up to Jerome on either side. "You two, post up here," Jerome says as he hands his SRS99 to Alice and takes the extra weapons Douglas had brought, an MA5B Assault Rifle as well as an M6 magnum pistol. Jerome perched himself on the cliff's edge. "RoE Sir?" Alice asks, flipping down the bipod and taking a ready position. "If I get detected, weapons free but do not enter the compound. Cover until I'm clear then extend and evade until we can return to the bivouac, understood?" Both Spartans nodded but didn't speak, they didn't need to. With a nod Jerome pushed off from the ridge and slid into the valley below.