Prologue
November 5, 2552/UNSC Light Frigate Come and Get ‘Em/UNSC Space near Mars
The Frigate Come and Get ‘Em drifted silently through space. A month ago, the Come and Get ‘Em had been involved in aiding a heavier Halcyon-class cruiser- the Moonlit Sonata- in a tactical strike of an Insurrectionists outpost near Neptune. They were like most other Innies; hiding out in dangerous, asteroid ridden areas to prevent intrusions. It was a quick enough operation, in and out with as few civilian casualties as possible.
The Insurrectionist rebels had been intercepting supply ships to other UNSC colonies, and needed to be put in their place. The campaign had been in progress since June of 2552, and had been a constant effort for the following three months.
On August 30th, the crew had been alerted to the destruction of Reach. The Insurrectionist Campaign was halted, and the fleet was called back to the nearest UNSC outpost. Commander Buckley of the Come and Get ‘Em made the call for the ship to run dark, avoiding a slipspace jump. The crew was put on ice after a course was plotted to Io.
Now for some reason they were heading to Earth.
Sergeant Dana Hays walked into the Cryo-Deck, sighing softly. She was an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, or ODST. They were a sub-section of the UNSCDF Marines, and they were as close to Spartans as Marines could get.
Hays had been brought out of stasis two hours prior due to a system backup-command. In the event that the ship’s commanding crew didn’t wake when scheduled, Hays was assigned to investigate the problem. The Captain wouldn’t like the news, so the sooner he knew the better.
Sharp sirens cut through Captain Eric Rowas’ cryo-sleep. The alarm penetrated every attempt to block it out, squawking on every second and persisting until he punched the ‘disengage’ button.
“Rise and shine, Cap,”
His dark brown hair was lightly frosted, ice crystals clinging to his eyelids. Cryo-sleep was a difficult ordeal for soldiers; to be plain it flat out sucked. The techies required Marines strip down to scant underwear, and even that had to pass certain standards. Regular clothes were dangerous in cryo-stasis; they caused what the Marines referred to as ‘freezer burn’, and could even be the reason behind missing digits.
“Wake the rest of the squad Hays,” he ordered in a choked voice, “Then alert Commander Buckley that we’re active.”
“Would you like a hot towel, sir?”
“No, but I’ll need a sit-rep when I’m coherent. Wake the squad.”
The Sergeant nodded, punching a few buttons and engaging the wake-up cycle on the other four cryotubes in the room. She was from Reach, making her dry humor impressive given the planet’s fate. As the remaining cryotubes hissed open, Eric pounded his chest twice and hacked up the cryo-gel the Marines had to inhale and swallow to prevent internal damage. He spat the bland mess to the tube’s floor. The tubes featured an auto-clean feature for that very reason, as well as ensuring sterility for future inhabitants.
Climbing out of the tube, Eric watched Hays as she donned a pair of ODST issue battledress, noting how the cryo-sleep never seemed to bother the Sergeant. Her blonde hair was buzzed in the standard crew-cut, and the faint trace of a scar ran down the left side of her face. Still, Eric had to admit, were it not for regulations he would take her out for a beer.
Just not an Earth beer.
Dana glanced over at Eric, giving him a knowing look and an amused smile. She knew the Captain liked her- he always seemed to ask for her status first. It was sweet, she thought, and with humanity’s current situation one was always tempted to chuck the rules.
The ODST squad suited up, the chatter light despite waking from the uncomfortable situation. There were only six of them in Cryo-Bay One; the rest of the ship was in Cryo Three.
“Man, these clothes itch like hell!” a Private- James Cavetti complained. His voice was high pitched and thick with a Boston accent, making him annoying to be around but the squad liked it.
The Hispanic Marine next to him, Corporal Maria Riviera, shook her head and smacked the Private in the back of the head. “Yeah, stupid. That’s why they tell you to not wear ‘em.” She came from Monterrey, Mexico and had a tough, no-nonsense attitude about her that matched.
“Yeah? You just wanna see me in my boxers, Riviera.”
“You wish, Jimmy.”
Eric shook his head in amusement at the squads banter as he headed to the armory with Hays. “So what’s the situation, Sergeant?”
“It’s FUBAR, sir,” she replied with a frown, “when we passed through the Asteroid Belt several small meteors penetrated the hull. Thankfully the engine room was the only one hit, but it’s blown to hell and we’re at least five hours from Luna.”
Eric raised a brow, “Would you mind clarifying Sergeant? How much damage are we looking at here?”
“Blown to hell as in the engines were hit, as well as several utility lines. The engine room sealed as soon as we started loosing atmosphere. It stabilized the interior pressure, but we can’t get to the engine without depressurizing the entire cryo-deck.”
“So why don’t we just plot a course to Earth?”
The Sergeant paused. “That’s the real kicker. Our drive core was critically damaged, and there’s almost no way to repair it without going into a zero-atmosphere environment. We are able to do that, but the tools to fix it were lost when the hull was penetrated. Not only that but the damn AI Diana was critically damaged. We’ve got her basic functions, but nothing more.”
“So we’re completely adrift?”
“Yes, sir, for the moment. As I said we’re past Mars, so it would be more practical to repair the ship on Earth if we can hail a tow-freighter.”
Eric crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth tightening to a thin line. They were currently stranded, even if it was in UNSC space. Still, the Covenant wouldn’t care what space they were in- a sitting duck was an easy opportunity. “Have you informed Commander Buckley?”
“Sir,” the Sergeant said somberly, “that’s the biggest problem.”
Eric turned to face Hays, knowing what was coming next.
“Commander Buckley didn’t make it,” she sighed, “The lifelines were cut, and we’re the only remaining crew.”
Eric shook his head. While the Commander hadn’t been the most accepting of the uncouth ODST squad, it was still her ship and the ODST were just passengers. But the ship was under his command now, until the UNSC issued a new crew.
Now it looked as though the 427th ODST battalion was going to be taken out by lack of rations or a lazy plasma torpedo.
“Sergeant, as soon as you can send out a distress signal on all available frequencies,” the Captain ordered as they headed to the bridge, “Try to hail any UNSC tow-freighters near Mars and send a status report to an ONI Office on Earth- I don’t care which continent. We may be floating dead, but we can still make some noise.”
The Sergeant gave a salute. “Sir, yes sir.”
They paused as the door to the bridge verified their IFF tags before opening. Hays headed to a console, bringing the systems online. She pressed several keys on the panel, re-engaging the Navigational Optics. Static fuzzed on the observation display screen at the front of the Bridge.
An alarm suddenly sounded at the Navigation console and Hays ran to silence it, swearing as she read the report.
“Sir, major problem!” Hays shouted as she typed furiously at the keypad.
“Enlighten me, then,” Eric said urgently as he slipped into the Commander’s Chair, “what’s the situation?”
“You remember how we’re drifting?”
“Hard to forget, Sergeant.”
“We’re drifting directly towards Earth.” The Sergeant looked up with a tinge of panic playing at the edge of her eyes, “I can’t alter our trajectory drastically, but it’s putting us somewhere in the North American Midwest.”
Eric sat forward, pressing a hand to his mouth in thought. If they were headed towards Earth, there was no way they would be able to land safely with faulty engines. There was an even slimmer chance a tow-frigate would be able to slow or halt their approach.
There was only one way to land.
“Sergeant as we approach Earth I want you to navigate around the battle cluster as best you can. Use vent thrusters, weapons systems, I don’t care. Send a distress signal directly to Admiral Hood, I want them ready when we come barreling past. Then set a deployment mark before we hit the atmosphere. Lastly bring the squad to the Bridge ASAP and put the ship on full-alert.”
Hays saluted sharply. “Sir, yes sir.”
Throughout the rest of the ship, an alarm sounded- three short bursts on a delay of a half-second. It was a signal for the ODST to suit up and fast. The alarms signified that the ship was in danger, now the question was from what. A large, black Marine, Corporal Evan Richards, jumped to his feet. “Ah, hell!” he shouted, “Double-time it, Marines! We’re in trouble.”
“Shee-it,” Corporal Emily Hackett groaned. She was the new addition to their outfit, “I thought we was in UNSC space, not hankerin’ fer trouble!”
They were the character to the squad, he the tough, leveled muscle and she the usually good-spirited southern belle. He was from Mars; a tough, unforgiving world and in contrast she was from the west side of Memphis, Arkansas.
Even still, they were all possibly insane. They had to be to make the cut. ODST’s were a step above the rest of the Marines. They hit harder, shot truer, and showed a profound affinity for dangerous situations. That’s what it meant to be a Helljumper.
The ODST suited up quickly, dressing in their dark grey battledress uniforms and battle-armor painted a matte-black in opposition to the Marine’s dull green.
Aside from the color, their suit was different in many ways from standard Marines. They were able to stand zero-atmosphere environments, as the sealed helmets supplied oxygen for up to fifteen minutes. They also had more extensive protection than standard Marines, their uniforms featuring added armor.
After suiting up and arming their BR55HB SR Battle Rifles, the four soldiers headed to the bridge at a brisk pace, their boots thudding rhythmically against the steel deck.
When they arrived, Captain Rowas filled them in on their current situation. The debriefing was interrupted as Cavetti’s voice echoed across the room.
“Oh $#!T! Oh my God, man, oh $#!T!”
Eric rose from the chair, annoyed at the interruption. “Cavetti, what the hell are you yelling about?”
Corporal Riviera raised a finger, pointing to the now operational observation display. “Sir,” she said in shock, “You might want to see this.”
As Eric turned around he understood Jimmy’s outburst. On the display screen the aftermath of battle greeted them. The Earth’s Orbital Defense Grid had been all but obliterated, only a few of the MAC platforms remained.
The Earth was in a state of chaos. Several circular patterns of fire marked key cities and sites the Covenant had decided to glass for unknown reasons, though most were in Africa. Skeletons of UNSC Frigates and Halcyon-Class cruisers floated in an almost haunting manner through space, slowly orbiting the Earth in an eternal dance of death.
“Christ…” Eric breathed, collapsing back into his seat. The Covenant ships taking down were only about a tenth of the UNSC ships. Numerous fighter ships floated around the corpses of the destroyers and cruisers. More likely than not they were composed of Longsword fighters than the Covenant Seraphs.
“Sir,” Sergeant Hays cut through the shock that had permeated through the deck, “We’re still drifting. Approaching deployment mark in ten.” Now the Sergeant understood why they were at Earth. The ship’s AI must have received a distress call, and altered their course accordingly.
Rowas stood, grabbing his helmet- the only one with a red Squad Leader stripe- as he shook the sense of shock from his head. “You heard her, boys and girls. We’ve got a hot date in ten minutes. Get a full clip and as many grenades as you can carry. Hackett, you have medical. Pack six cans of MedGel; Richards and Hays, pack two each just in case. Cavetti, grab 24 rounds and store 16 with Richards.”
The small squad nodded, a chorus of “Yes, sir” filling the bridge.
“Head to your pods and strap in tight! There’s hell down on Earth, and what’s a bit of hell without us? Sergeant Hays, lock in the deployment mark to the HEV release, then gear up and lock in.”
The Sergeant nodded and set in the appropriate commands. She hurried to the Deployment Deck with the rest of the squad, grabbing the necessary equipment. The ODST’s locked the doors to their Human Entry Vehicles, sealed the interior pressure, and then waited as the countdown was projected on their HUD’s.
Time to go to work, Captain Rowas thought to himself as he locked his helmet on, Bout damn time, too.
November 5, 2552/UNSC Light Frigate Come and Get ‘Em/UNSC Space near Mars
The Frigate Come and Get ‘Em drifted silently through space. A month ago, the Come and Get ‘Em had been involved in aiding a heavier Halcyon-class cruiser- the Moonlit Sonata- in a tactical strike of an Insurrectionists outpost near Neptune. They were like most other Innies; hiding out in dangerous, asteroid ridden areas to prevent intrusions. It was a quick enough operation, in and out with as few civilian casualties as possible.
The Insurrectionist rebels had been intercepting supply ships to other UNSC colonies, and needed to be put in their place. The campaign had been in progress since June of 2552, and had been a constant effort for the following three months.
On August 30th, the crew had been alerted to the destruction of Reach. The Insurrectionist Campaign was halted, and the fleet was called back to the nearest UNSC outpost. Commander Buckley of the Come and Get ‘Em made the call for the ship to run dark, avoiding a slipspace jump. The crew was put on ice after a course was plotted to Io.
Now for some reason they were heading to Earth.
Sergeant Dana Hays walked into the Cryo-Deck, sighing softly. She was an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, or ODST. They were a sub-section of the UNSCDF Marines, and they were as close to Spartans as Marines could get.
Hays had been brought out of stasis two hours prior due to a system backup-command. In the event that the ship’s commanding crew didn’t wake when scheduled, Hays was assigned to investigate the problem. The Captain wouldn’t like the news, so the sooner he knew the better.
Sharp sirens cut through Captain Eric Rowas’ cryo-sleep. The alarm penetrated every attempt to block it out, squawking on every second and persisting until he punched the ‘disengage’ button.
“Rise and shine, Cap,”
His dark brown hair was lightly frosted, ice crystals clinging to his eyelids. Cryo-sleep was a difficult ordeal for soldiers; to be plain it flat out sucked. The techies required Marines strip down to scant underwear, and even that had to pass certain standards. Regular clothes were dangerous in cryo-stasis; they caused what the Marines referred to as ‘freezer burn’, and could even be the reason behind missing digits.
“Wake the rest of the squad Hays,” he ordered in a choked voice, “Then alert Commander Buckley that we’re active.”
“Would you like a hot towel, sir?”
“No, but I’ll need a sit-rep when I’m coherent. Wake the squad.”
The Sergeant nodded, punching a few buttons and engaging the wake-up cycle on the other four cryotubes in the room. She was from Reach, making her dry humor impressive given the planet’s fate. As the remaining cryotubes hissed open, Eric pounded his chest twice and hacked up the cryo-gel the Marines had to inhale and swallow to prevent internal damage. He spat the bland mess to the tube’s floor. The tubes featured an auto-clean feature for that very reason, as well as ensuring sterility for future inhabitants.
Climbing out of the tube, Eric watched Hays as she donned a pair of ODST issue battledress, noting how the cryo-sleep never seemed to bother the Sergeant. Her blonde hair was buzzed in the standard crew-cut, and the faint trace of a scar ran down the left side of her face. Still, Eric had to admit, were it not for regulations he would take her out for a beer.
Just not an Earth beer.
Dana glanced over at Eric, giving him a knowing look and an amused smile. She knew the Captain liked her- he always seemed to ask for her status first. It was sweet, she thought, and with humanity’s current situation one was always tempted to chuck the rules.
The ODST squad suited up, the chatter light despite waking from the uncomfortable situation. There were only six of them in Cryo-Bay One; the rest of the ship was in Cryo Three.
“Man, these clothes itch like hell!” a Private- James Cavetti complained. His voice was high pitched and thick with a Boston accent, making him annoying to be around but the squad liked it.
The Hispanic Marine next to him, Corporal Maria Riviera, shook her head and smacked the Private in the back of the head. “Yeah, stupid. That’s why they tell you to not wear ‘em.” She came from Monterrey, Mexico and had a tough, no-nonsense attitude about her that matched.
“Yeah? You just wanna see me in my boxers, Riviera.”
“You wish, Jimmy.”
Eric shook his head in amusement at the squads banter as he headed to the armory with Hays. “So what’s the situation, Sergeant?”
“It’s FUBAR, sir,” she replied with a frown, “when we passed through the Asteroid Belt several small meteors penetrated the hull. Thankfully the engine room was the only one hit, but it’s blown to hell and we’re at least five hours from Luna.”
Eric raised a brow, “Would you mind clarifying Sergeant? How much damage are we looking at here?”
“Blown to hell as in the engines were hit, as well as several utility lines. The engine room sealed as soon as we started loosing atmosphere. It stabilized the interior pressure, but we can’t get to the engine without depressurizing the entire cryo-deck.”
“So why don’t we just plot a course to Earth?”
The Sergeant paused. “That’s the real kicker. Our drive core was critically damaged, and there’s almost no way to repair it without going into a zero-atmosphere environment. We are able to do that, but the tools to fix it were lost when the hull was penetrated. Not only that but the damn AI Diana was critically damaged. We’ve got her basic functions, but nothing more.”
“So we’re completely adrift?”
“Yes, sir, for the moment. As I said we’re past Mars, so it would be more practical to repair the ship on Earth if we can hail a tow-freighter.”
Eric crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth tightening to a thin line. They were currently stranded, even if it was in UNSC space. Still, the Covenant wouldn’t care what space they were in- a sitting duck was an easy opportunity. “Have you informed Commander Buckley?”
“Sir,” the Sergeant said somberly, “that’s the biggest problem.”
Eric turned to face Hays, knowing what was coming next.
“Commander Buckley didn’t make it,” she sighed, “The lifelines were cut, and we’re the only remaining crew.”
Eric shook his head. While the Commander hadn’t been the most accepting of the uncouth ODST squad, it was still her ship and the ODST were just passengers. But the ship was under his command now, until the UNSC issued a new crew.
Now it looked as though the 427th ODST battalion was going to be taken out by lack of rations or a lazy plasma torpedo.
“Sergeant, as soon as you can send out a distress signal on all available frequencies,” the Captain ordered as they headed to the bridge, “Try to hail any UNSC tow-freighters near Mars and send a status report to an ONI Office on Earth- I don’t care which continent. We may be floating dead, but we can still make some noise.”
The Sergeant gave a salute. “Sir, yes sir.”
They paused as the door to the bridge verified their IFF tags before opening. Hays headed to a console, bringing the systems online. She pressed several keys on the panel, re-engaging the Navigational Optics. Static fuzzed on the observation display screen at the front of the Bridge.
An alarm suddenly sounded at the Navigation console and Hays ran to silence it, swearing as she read the report.
“Sir, major problem!” Hays shouted as she typed furiously at the keypad.
“Enlighten me, then,” Eric said urgently as he slipped into the Commander’s Chair, “what’s the situation?”
“You remember how we’re drifting?”
“Hard to forget, Sergeant.”
“We’re drifting directly towards Earth.” The Sergeant looked up with a tinge of panic playing at the edge of her eyes, “I can’t alter our trajectory drastically, but it’s putting us somewhere in the North American Midwest.”
Eric sat forward, pressing a hand to his mouth in thought. If they were headed towards Earth, there was no way they would be able to land safely with faulty engines. There was an even slimmer chance a tow-frigate would be able to slow or halt their approach.
There was only one way to land.
“Sergeant as we approach Earth I want you to navigate around the battle cluster as best you can. Use vent thrusters, weapons systems, I don’t care. Send a distress signal directly to Admiral Hood, I want them ready when we come barreling past. Then set a deployment mark before we hit the atmosphere. Lastly bring the squad to the Bridge ASAP and put the ship on full-alert.”
Hays saluted sharply. “Sir, yes sir.”
Throughout the rest of the ship, an alarm sounded- three short bursts on a delay of a half-second. It was a signal for the ODST to suit up and fast. The alarms signified that the ship was in danger, now the question was from what. A large, black Marine, Corporal Evan Richards, jumped to his feet. “Ah, hell!” he shouted, “Double-time it, Marines! We’re in trouble.”
“Shee-it,” Corporal Emily Hackett groaned. She was the new addition to their outfit, “I thought we was in UNSC space, not hankerin’ fer trouble!”
They were the character to the squad, he the tough, leveled muscle and she the usually good-spirited southern belle. He was from Mars; a tough, unforgiving world and in contrast she was from the west side of Memphis, Arkansas.
Even still, they were all possibly insane. They had to be to make the cut. ODST’s were a step above the rest of the Marines. They hit harder, shot truer, and showed a profound affinity for dangerous situations. That’s what it meant to be a Helljumper.
The ODST suited up quickly, dressing in their dark grey battledress uniforms and battle-armor painted a matte-black in opposition to the Marine’s dull green.
Aside from the color, their suit was different in many ways from standard Marines. They were able to stand zero-atmosphere environments, as the sealed helmets supplied oxygen for up to fifteen minutes. They also had more extensive protection than standard Marines, their uniforms featuring added armor.
After suiting up and arming their BR55HB SR Battle Rifles, the four soldiers headed to the bridge at a brisk pace, their boots thudding rhythmically against the steel deck.
When they arrived, Captain Rowas filled them in on their current situation. The debriefing was interrupted as Cavetti’s voice echoed across the room.
“Oh $#!T! Oh my God, man, oh $#!T!”
Eric rose from the chair, annoyed at the interruption. “Cavetti, what the hell are you yelling about?”
Corporal Riviera raised a finger, pointing to the now operational observation display. “Sir,” she said in shock, “You might want to see this.”
As Eric turned around he understood Jimmy’s outburst. On the display screen the aftermath of battle greeted them. The Earth’s Orbital Defense Grid had been all but obliterated, only a few of the MAC platforms remained.
The Earth was in a state of chaos. Several circular patterns of fire marked key cities and sites the Covenant had decided to glass for unknown reasons, though most were in Africa. Skeletons of UNSC Frigates and Halcyon-Class cruisers floated in an almost haunting manner through space, slowly orbiting the Earth in an eternal dance of death.
“Christ…” Eric breathed, collapsing back into his seat. The Covenant ships taking down were only about a tenth of the UNSC ships. Numerous fighter ships floated around the corpses of the destroyers and cruisers. More likely than not they were composed of Longsword fighters than the Covenant Seraphs.
“Sir,” Sergeant Hays cut through the shock that had permeated through the deck, “We’re still drifting. Approaching deployment mark in ten.” Now the Sergeant understood why they were at Earth. The ship’s AI must have received a distress call, and altered their course accordingly.
Rowas stood, grabbing his helmet- the only one with a red Squad Leader stripe- as he shook the sense of shock from his head. “You heard her, boys and girls. We’ve got a hot date in ten minutes. Get a full clip and as many grenades as you can carry. Hackett, you have medical. Pack six cans of MedGel; Richards and Hays, pack two each just in case. Cavetti, grab 24 rounds and store 16 with Richards.”
The small squad nodded, a chorus of “Yes, sir” filling the bridge.
“Head to your pods and strap in tight! There’s hell down on Earth, and what’s a bit of hell without us? Sergeant Hays, lock in the deployment mark to the HEV release, then gear up and lock in.”
The Sergeant nodded and set in the appropriate commands. She hurried to the Deployment Deck with the rest of the squad, grabbing the necessary equipment. The ODST’s locked the doors to their Human Entry Vehicles, sealed the interior pressure, and then waited as the countdown was projected on their HUD’s.
Time to go to work, Captain Rowas thought to himself as he locked his helmet on, Bout damn time, too.