Chapter 3
UNSC Normandy
October 24, 2537
Bridge
"Transitioning in 5...4...3...2..." The NAV officer counted down.
Stars winked onto the display, and Miridem shone red and yellow and blazing. Captain Harbin covered his eyes. In the bottom left view screen, a blue and brown sphere reflected the starlight. Miridem III, the prowler's destination.
"Initiate contact with Camp Artemis," The nameless commander ordered his COM officer. "And Lieutenant Willis, get us down there."
"Yes sir!" The COM officer and her cohort Willis rushed to type commands.
Several junior officers waltzed around the titanium-A deck. The click-clack of boots rang from the feet of an Army patrol marching in the adjacent corridor between cryo and the bridge.
A rumble sounded as the engines came to life. On the central viewer, a flight path traced from the Normandy's current location to the surface of Miridem III. The blue arrow representing the Normandy slowly slid down the hyphenated trail through the display. The Captain inhaled deeply, and felt his stomach flip when the Normandy hit an air pocket, and the sickening sense of gravity returning. Even though he wore boots with magnetic clips, the UNSC, unlike the Covenant, had no artificial gravity without spinning sections. A prowler, designed for stealth, could not possibly have one of said sections. It would create motion, and a careful sensor operator would notice it.
Evergreen forests and bright blue and indigo oceans rolled under the angular thrusters of the prowler. They parted and revealed black asphalt and concrete, spaced by bunkers and quarters. Three Scorpion tanks and several Warthogs sped around the perimeter, keeping watch for any that would trespass on the base.
"Bring us down, Lieutenant."
"Sir, yes sir!"
The craft spun, and landed on an octagonal platform, one of seven equally spaced. On the others, Pelican 77-TC dropships lay, landing gears splayed outward like a giraffe drinking from a waterhole.
"Final landing sequence initiating... and... done. We're good." Lieutenant Willis eased back against his chair.
Proceeding to the back of the bridge, the commander gestured for the Captain to follow.
"Sergeant," the man nodded at the Army squad. "Open the hatch."
"Got it, sir." The sergeant jogged over to a control panel and tapped in a series of commands. the hatch to the landing deck opened, and to the right, a section of the floor lowered and exposed the ground of Miridem III.
In a single file line from highest to lowest rank, the 90 crew of the Normandy lined up and shuffled off the prowler. Shore leave... or the equivalent for an officer in the UNSC. No one ever got leave any more. Always on the defensive... There were a few attempts at offense against the Covenant, but they almost always failed. Blood was spilling, and not a soul came by to clean it up.
In any case, the prowler crew would stay here for three days while the cargo being carried by the ship was unloaded, processed, and made ready for testing. The reason for the long delay was because in one day, the new COM satellites would be going online. The UNSC forces on Miridem III wanted a ship with offensive and defensive capabilities ready to go on a moment's notice. Not that a prowler had much except a few point defense cannons and several SHIVAs, but it would do against any determined Insurrectionists wanting to snatch the plans for the armor.
In the meantime, back at Gamma Company, Harbin had delegated command to Beta Platoon leader, Lieutenant Javerson. He would be doing double shifts as company leader with Sidious and as Beta Platoon's leader.
The sun warmed Harbin's cold hands, and rolling up the cuff of his fatigues, he rubbed his hands together in an effort to quickly heat them back up from the 15C temperatures of standard UNSC vessels. The gravel crunched under his tightly laced boots, and a Warthog drove up to meet the step of his feet.
"You Captain Harbin?" The driver, a lieutenant, nodded at Harbin.
"Yes, I am." Harbin nodded back.
"Well, hop on in. We have work to do."
**************
Captain Harbin leapt out of the LRV, and walked over to a permacrete bunker. A man with a grizzled face and stubble on his chin walked over to meet him.
The Captain saw three stars on the collar of the man's uniform, and snapped to attention.
"Sir, Vice Admiral, sir!" He yelled.
"At ease," The Vice Admiral nodded. "I am Vice Admiral Vetriki Metrenko." Vetriki spoke with a heavy Russian accent. The man extended his hand to the Captain.
"Glad to meet you sir." Harbin reached out and clasped the other man's hand. It felt like sandpaper. The Captain saw patches and ribbons on the Admiral's uniform that showed participation in Operation: TREBUCHET, the Harvest Campaign, the Battle of the Atlas Moons, and dozens of other engagements.
"Come inside, Captain Harbin. There are some... things I would like to discuss with you about Project: GUNGNIR." He waved Harbin into the bunker.
Inside, lights flickered on and illuminated a single table with fold-out chairs placed all around. A bulletin board covered the far wall.
"Sit down." Metrenko gestured at Harbin, and then grabbed a stack of papers from off the table top and began flipping through them. He apparently found the page he wanted, and looked back up at the Captain.
"I wanted to inform you of the risks of the GUNGNIR program." Metrenko breathed deeply.
Sweat beaded on Harbin's forehead.
"You will go through several... augmentations before putting on the armor." Metrenko looked down. Augmentations? Harbin thought, What kind of augmentations? Obviously, his thoughts showed on his face, for Metrenko immediately tried to console him.
"No, don't worry, there's a 90% survival rate. I mean, uh..." He stammered and tried to cover his mistake.
"Wait, you've done this before?" Harbin gaped. "...sir." he added, uncertainly.
Metrenko sighed. He rubbed his stubble, and swatted at a fly buzzing around a light. He looked like he said this every day. Which he probably did, Harbin thought. For a moment, they were both quiet. Harbin tried to open his mouth and break the ice, but nothing happened.
"Yes... we have," the Vice Admiral's face suddenly hardened, and his voice grew stronger. "and you will not mention that to anyone, at any time, under any circumstances, ever. That's an order."
"Sir!" Harbin nodded briskly.
"But really, there's nothing to worry about. The real reason we chose you was because your genes matched the code of the augmentations. Though, it wasn't a lie about your cracking career. Still, if you want to back out, now is the time." Metrenko stared into Harbin with his deep, all-knowing, gray eyes. It was a rhetorical question, and both of them knew it.
"I'm going to stay, sir. I didn't lose my CO and half a platoon on Harvest to let humanity down." Harbin meant what he said. For a brief moment, he wondered about the green armored men who had saved him from that Brute. The moment came back, vivid as day.
Epsilon Indi beat down upon his uncovered head. The body of Captain Riley was carried on the stretcher into the Pelican, along with a number of other wounded and dead. The giant men in armor looked upon the deceased with no emotion, no faces--just a cold, shining stare out of polarized golden visors. Then, they got on board, two of them carrying a red lump between them. Harbin realized it was a body, and saw it was holding a pistol in one hand, and a key chain in the other.
He moved his eyes back to Gamma Company. All of them were under his command now--three hundred men, ready to fight and die at his order. He wasn't sure he could do it. The weight fell on his shoulders like an over-laden pack back in boot. Then Harbin knew that there was no one else. He breathed deeply, and exhaled.
The Admiral dismissed the Captain, and the ODST smartly saluted. Outside, the sun beat down on him. The same Lieutenant he had seen on the way in beckoned Harbin back into the jeep.
"I'm designated to take you to your quarters, sir." The Lieutenant said.
"Thank you. By the way, what's your name?" The Captain looked over.
"Lucas, sir. Devin Lucas."
The Warthog weaved through warehouses, restrooms, and armories, until it got to a box shaped building with a sign that said 'Officers Quarters'.
"Last stop, the big O." The Lieutenant hit the brake, and with a screech, the LRV came to a halt.
"The big O?" Harbin raised an eyebrow.
Lucas explained that the OQs were arranged in a large O out of coincidence. In the center, there was the CO's quarters.
"Yours is the one on the left, numero dos." Lucas handed a silver key to the Captain, and drove off after Andrew had retrieved his bags. On the side of the key, there was a lanyard, and an ID card, with the words 'Harbin, Andrew Captain' along with a bar code and a picture of the Captain. Approaching the door, the Captain entered the key in a slot, and stepped over the threshold.
Inside, he could smell an air freshener, and after taking a quick look around, he saw a bedroom, a lavatory, and a central lobby-type area he was in now. The floor was perma crete with a carpet draped over it, and there was a desk in the far corner. Otherwise, the room was empty. Harbin trudged into the bunk room, and set his bags down.
He heard a beep from the other room, and noticed a computer terminal mounted on the desk. It beeped again, and the Captain stepped over and silenced it. A pop-up lay over the screen. It read:
Captain, at 0700 next Tuesday, report to Medical. Wear fatigues. Be prepared.
Metrenko