AN: I wish you all a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year!
Thank you to the guest that wrote that really long ‘rant’. I honestly wish more people made effort posts like that. I feel like my writing is more ‘wobbly’ since there is no skeleton to work off of in the form of the original. So please don’t hesitate to critique it.
One MAJOR change I’ve made (rather hesitantly I might add) is for Piett’s Base Delta Zero to have been unintentional. IMO it makes him more in line with his character as portrayed in the movies/EU. He’s not really shown to be super ruthless. Another thing I’d like to change is combine Delta Squad’s Geonosis chapter into the second chapter, making for betting pacing, but that’s probably not going to happen.
UNSC PRIORITY TRANSMISSION 83413T-39
Encryption Code: Gamma
Public Key: N/A
From: Rear Admiral Jan Mengel, Surgeon General of the UNSC Navy (UNSC Service Number: 10329-51221-JM)
To: CINCONI Admiral Serin Osman (UNSC Service Number: 39489-72738-SO)
Subject: Andromedan Blood Samples
Classification: EYES ONLY TOP SECRET
Blood samples of surviving Republic POWs match with preliminary autopsies of KIA. 100% of sampled individuals contain cells genetically similar to Inferi redivivus LF.Xx.3273 supercells. Further study is underway.
Civilian population immunization to Andromeda bacteria and viruses nearly complete via water supply.
Strongly recommend against allowing HIGHCOM to turn over killed and captured Republic personnel to the Confederacy of Independent Systems Dagu facility.
Bacta compound manufacturing plant nearly complete, experimental production batch underway aboard the UNSC Hopeful awaiting HIGHCOM approval before mass production.
Coruscant, Republic Executive Building, Chancellor’s Suite, Private Office
Sidious couldn’t help but grin as Captain Piett left his office. He knew the Terrans would no longer accept any offer of peace given to them by the Republic. The rather unfortunate loss was beginning to play out in Palpatine’s favor. The Senate would not be convinced by the burgeoning peace movement in view of the threat posed by the Republic’s newfound enemies, but quite on the contrary would soon accept the measures necessary to achieve a swift victory and establish a lasting peace.
However, the situation could easily grow out of hand.
The unique technology possessed by the Terrans freed them from the shackles of hyperlanes, allowing them to bypass strongpoints and strike anywhere with ease.
More forces would have to be mobilized, new weapons devised, and tactics revised or created in order to meet the shifting demands of war.
‘The Senate is tightly within my grasp.’ Sidious thought. ‘No matter what Senator Amidala will present tomorrow when she arrives, the war will continue on for as long as I need.’
He would surely be able to pass whatever bills he wanted soon enough. His first order of business would be to reduce the Senate’s ability to interfere with military affairs, then a massive military expansion was in order.
If he was to truly reform the military once again, he needed a brilliant mind with suitable martial prowess, who was well acquainted with alien territory, and had the tenacity to achieve victory under any circumstance.
Darth Sidious knew just the men to talk to; men like Admiral Tarkin, Raith Sienar, Walex Blessex, and another who he had not talked to in years.
Palpatine was getting ahead of himself, for now, he would remain content with the way current events were fast unfolding to his benefit.
Reclining in his seat and tapping his fingers together rhythmically, Sidious began to plot his next course of action.
Reach, Highland Mountains, FLEETCOM Military Complex
“As you could’ve guessed, this is Taris,” Admiral Stanforth began, gesturing to the holographic projection. “Home of the Republic Tenth Sector Army, headquarters for over a quarter million Clone troopers, as well as the staging ground for their attack on Alpha Rendara.”
Admiral Stanforth once more motioned towards the display. “Your primary targets will be the planetary shield array and air defense grid, shown here. The targets of secondary importance are the sensor and communications array mostly located on the upper levels. Your final objective will be their groundside headquarters. You will be inserted via prowler deployed LRSOIPs directly after the conclusion of Operation Suckerpunch’s first phase. Master Chief, I’m needed with the rest of the admiralty, if you’d like to take over the briefing?”
“Yes sir,” John nodded, striding over to the front of the amphitheater from behind the Admiral, who exchanged a salute with the Spartan before departing.
John proceeded with the rest of the briefing. “We’ll be coming in fifteen minutes before Fleet Admiral Cole’s fleet arrives. Teams Blue and Green will infiltrate the planet to ensure the planetary shield generator stays down. Teams Red, Crimson, and Majestic will handle their anti air net. Teams Bailey and Gold will deal with their sensor and communication arrays. Team Jackhammer will be the first to infiltrate their local planetary HQ. Team leads will fill in the particular details. We embark in five hours. Blue Team, meet me at armory seven. Spartans, dismissed!”
The seated supersoldiers stood up and began to filter out of the amphitheater in an orderly fashion.
John lingered for a minute, shortly reflecting on the fact that he now occupied the role Chief Mendez once did, before following the rest of the group.
The hallways seemed to be clogged with a mass of the armored soldiers passing through, yet their movements were so precise and coordinated so as to not once jam the passageways.
John made his way to the armory and was greeted by the sight of the other members of Blue Team gearing up. They were on track to clear the room of everything in short order, snagging things like C-7 charges, sterile field generators, and spare armor modules. Things which would be inexpedient to have fabricated onboard a warship during a prolonged campaign.
Kelly was the first to greet his arrival. “John.”
“Kelly.” John greeted before glancing towards the others. “Fred, Linda.”
“John.” Linda simply nodded.
“Glad to have you back John.” Fred acknowledged.
“Glad to be back.” John replied. Indeed he was, to be on solid ground, to be on Reach, the planet which was essentially home to the Spartan-IIs.
“You don’t look any worse for the wear.” Fred remarked. “Jedi don’t typically leave their enemies in one piece.”
“Neither do we.” Linda said, riding the bolt on her personalized SRS99-S5 back and forth once to ensure its smooth function.
John knew that the Jedi had come close to killing him by holding him in place with her telekinetic abilities, a situation which he wouldn’t let happen again to himself, let alone to any of his team.
“They’re tough, but not invincible.” John remarked.
‘Just like us,’ was the unspoken thought shared between John and the rest of Blue Team at that statement.
John plucked a fresh M6D Magnum off the rack, the first opportunity he’s had to do so since his previous one was destroyed. “We’ll encounter Jedi in the future, one nearly killed me. They’ll make you think on your feet, so be prepared.”
“We’ll have your back next time.” Kelly said as she cleared the action of her shotgun. “I don’t know what NAVSPECWEP was thinking, deploying you alone.”
John doubted that someone higher up in the chain of command was trying to get him killed, not that that was what Kelly was suggesting. “It was a test.” A test of new armor, new weapons, for a new war which might not be so different from the last.
“And he certainly wasn’t alone.” Cortana added, projecting herself from John’s armor.
“Cortana, how nice of you to join us.” Fred said.
“I get lonely.” Cortana responded. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”
Coruscant, Coruscant Spaceport
As she departed alongside Ahsoka from the cargo ship, Padmé noticed Anakin out in the distance, far from the terminal. He was waiting for them both, it seemed.
She tried her hardest to suppress her smile as she neared closer and closer.
“Anakin.” She greeted him. “I see you’ve come to collect your padawan.”
“I’m sorry your talks with Bonteri failed.” Anakin cast a dirty look on Ahsoka.
“How did you know?” She asked, surprised.
“We have eyes and ears everywhere Ahsoka. That was dangerous and careless going to Raxus, not to mention illegal.” He shot a stern look at Padmé. “You went too far this time.” He started to walk with them.
“You would do the same, you do the same all the time.” Ahsoka protested.
“This was too much.” Anakin scolded.
“Maybe so. But I did realize something. The politics of this war are not as black and white as I once thought they were.” Ahsoka responded.
Both Padmé and Anakin gave somewhat approving looks at this.
“Well, I expect an extensive report of your reconnaissance mission behind enemy lines by tomorrow morning.”
“It’s already past midday!”
“Well, you better hurry.”
Ahsoka shook her head and started to sprint for the nearest air taxi.
“Anakin, you should really go easier on her, it was my idea after all and-”
Her sentence was cut short by a kiss from Anakin.
She broke away after a while to scold him. “Anakin! Not in public!” She exclaimed in a half whisper.
“What? We might not see each other as often, with the war escalating and all.”
Padmé ashamedly cast her glare downwards before smirking at him. “Well, we better get going.”
Anakin grinned before Padmé continued. “I need to speak with Senator Organa. It’s important.”
Reach, Highland Mountains, FLEETCOM Military Complex, HIGHCOM
“I’ve authorized the temporary closing of half of Reach’s civilian tethers for the Army to get their heavy equipment onboard faster. The shipping companies weren’t happy with it, but they’ll be reopened within the week. The loading of personnel will occur over these next three days before the jump on UNSC tethers only.” Admiral Roland Freemont said.
“Great thinking Admiral. That will alleviate the strain on our spacelift capabilities.” General Dellert said over the live feed. “The Air Force will pick up any slack the Navy leaves us in that regard.”
“How much of our supply are we projected to expend in the first year of deployment?” Admiral Stanforth asked.
“About twenty five percent, without any resupply. We’ve been able to narrow down our predictions by a substantial margin thanks to the experience gleaned from Admiral White’s engagement.” Admiral Davis of the Logistical Operations Command, also known as NAVLOGCOM or the Logistical Corps, said while glancing towards Admiral White.
Admiral White gave him a slight nod.
“What about the preparations at Boz Pity?” Fleet Admiral Hood asked.
“We’ve finished well ahead of schedule, the refit stations are waiting for Fleet Admiral Cole as we speak.” Vice Admiral Dubois replied. Dubois was the particular NAVLOGCOM officer in charge of overseeing the smooth function of the Andromeda campaign’s supply lines.
“I’ve particularly ensured the allocation of enough replacement weaponry, ammo, and food for our units on the ground, in the air, and in space which should be adequate for three years. The three years having been for a simulated conflict with twice the current intensity.” Admiral Davis said.
“Betcha those ain’t four star accommodations either.” Admiral Whitcomb whispered to Admiral White.
White gave an amused grunt. Whitcomb was one of the few of the top brass that wasn’t grated by his temperament, perhaps due in part from the fact they both hailed from Texas.
“Thank you for your caution, Admiral. Fleet Admiral Hood, does that cover all our bases? May I proceed?” General Nicolas Strauss of the UNSC Army asked.
“Go ahead, General.”
“We expect light resistance from Republic forces in our initial groundside assault on Taris,” Strauss began without further preamble, a holographic map of the planet projecting in the center of the room.
Admiral White waited for the catch; a planetary invasion was never straightforward, especially considering it would be the only UNSC ground operation during Operation: SUCKERPUNCH.
“However.” Strauss continued. “During initial contact, our units will likely be facing a mixed bag of elite Clone units interspersed with what is essentially low quality planetary militia. As they consolidate and reorganize, our forces will begin to face extreme resistance as early as twelve hours from initial contact due to the heavy urban terrain. If everything goes well, we will be able to turn over the campaign to the Confederate military within a week. While General Hogan and I expect the fleet to maintain orbital supremacy, there is a possibility of Republic reinforcements reaching the planet.”
Strauss continued, highlighting various objectives around the planet and voicing other considerations before he handed the talking stick back to NAVCOM.
“ONI prowler intel shows heavy fleet movements concentrated around the Taris system.” Admiral Whitcomb pointed out. “Signal Corps has drawn off some of them, but my fleet’s attack coordinated with the Confederate Navy should be able to draw off their strength and then link up all the way down the Hydian route with Fleet Admiral Cole’s forces.”
“Intel also shows no chance of a Republic spoiling attack at Boz Pity. The system’s too deep behind allied lines for them to reach.” Admiral Stanforth reported. “I will still stay in reserve as planned, in case the attack goes south.”
White had to envy Captain Haithum who was probably spending his shore leave with his family instead of sitting through meetings, but such was the life of a flag officer.
He glanced towards Fleet Admiral Preston Cole, who was writing down notes on his datapad as diligently as ever. White noticed that Cole had never taken a break in wartime, whether it was against the Covenant, or now against the so-called Galactic Republic.
“The Harvest and Midguard staging areas are finishing the middle stage of their preparations. Fleet Admiral Cole, how are the preparations coming along at Reach?” Lord Hood questioned.
Cole’s head snapped up. “Everything is on schedule. Almost all elements have reported in, but I’m still awaiting Rear Admiral Lasky’s arrival with the Infinity and her battlegroup before I begin final maintenance checks throughout the fleet.”
“The Infinity should arrive within the hour, she just left Sol. Her energy weapon refit took a little longer than anticipated due to the damage she sustained in deployment with the Eternity over the Ark.” Admiral Serin Osman of the Office of Naval Intelligence said.
White caught a vestige of a grimace in Cole’s face, but the man simply nodded instead.
“Thank you for keeping me informed, Admiral.” Cole said, glancing towards Admiral White. “Shore leave for Admiral White’s men ends in two days. After all that, we will be ready for departure.”
“I look forward to it, Fleet Admiral.” White said with imperceptible sarcasm.
“I call this meeting adjourned gentlemen.” Lord Hood said. With that, everyone got up to leave.
After exchanging pleasantries with the other officers of various branches, he departed for his luxurious officer’s quarters.
“Admiral White.” He heard a familiar voice call to him in the hall.
He turned around. “Fleet Admiral Cole, sir.”
“I am glad to be working with you again, but I want to make it clear that you will not be pulling any stunts like what you did to those prisoners. They had nothing to do with what happened. Let’s get revenge on these Republic bastards the right way.”
“Yes sir.”
Cole nodded, and strode off.
In his quarters, White was reading a report of the repairs, personnel transfers, and rearming of the Warhound and the rest of his fleet that had survived intact enough to be worth fixing.
He imagined that Cole was doing similar checks, probably for each individual ship in the fleet down to the last Longsword and Pelican. After he finished, he promptly fell asleep.
It was only an hour or two before he woke up with a start.
He was having a dream about his brother. His brother, the ODST that never made it home. White was sitting in a packed city square, an amalgamation of all the ones he’s seen before, the faces of the people blurred together, but his brother was at the forefront.
Then came the fire from the sky. The fire from the sky which boiled away every layer of flesh, muscle, and bone. He could only watch as his brother and the thousands of others faded away into slag.
White leapt out of his bed and reached for his cigar humidor. It was full of knockoff Sweet William cigars, he actually preferred their taste to the real things.
He clenched the unlit cigar within his mouth before taking a seat and pulling up his datapad to access the latest intelligence report on Republic force deployments, ship schematics, and their version of the Extra Planetary Wide Web.
‘Where are you, you bastard.’ He thought to himself. ‘Gotcha.’
He had stumbled on a news piece about Republic officers appearing before their Senate. White tapped through his pad. He came to an image of two men giving their report. The shorter one was who he was really after. White estimated the man’s height to be between five foot four to five foot eight, the man who had glassed the colony alongside the hundred thousand civilians White was supposed to protect, who was the reason thousands that were under his command would never come home, and who was the reason this war might not end peacefully.
He furrowed his brow. ‘Captain Firmus Piett. I’m coming to kill you, you son of a bitch.’
Coruscant, Senate Building
“Bail, I need to speak with you.” Padmé said with more than a hint of urgency while accompanied by her aide, Teckla Minnau.
“As do I.” Bail replied, twisting to face the doorway from his chair. “A great deal has happened in your absence.”
Bail motioned for the two to take a seat, which Padmé happily took while Teckla remained standing.
“The Separatists are still deliberating on whether or not to offer us peace, Bail. They seem confident in the Terrans' ability to win them this war.” Padmé’s voice seemed to grow lower and lower.
“No surprise, especially after this debacle of an invasion.”
She lowered her voice to a near whisper. “Bail, that fleet scorched one of their colonies.”
Bail covered his mouth and stood, turning to face outside the window.
Bail turned around. “That can’t be true, when has the Republic ever done anything like that during this entire war?” he asked, exasperated. “Where did you learn of this?”
“I spoke with Mina, Bail. I saw the broadcasts on the Shadowfeed when I was coming back. It’s gone.”
“Senator Bonteri?” Bail scoffed. “How can you be sure it's not just propaganda?”
“Trust me, Bail. Please. I have recordings of the tragedy if you don’t believe me. Haven’t they delivered their declaration of war to the Senate?”
“No. The Terrans haven’t. If they have, we haven’t been shown it yet.” Bail let out a long and frustrated sigh. “What were they thinking? When we had a real chance at peace after all these years? It doesn’t make sense!”
“It doesn’t make sense to me, either,” Padmé said. “Bail, we have to bring this to the Senate. Even if many of them haven’t listened to us before, it could change some minds about the war.”
Bail’s face seemed to lighten. “This news might still help us stop the war and bring peace firmly back onto the table. You and I both know the Senate can’t ignore such a gross breach of civilized behavior in wartime from our own forces. The Senate might accept a reconciliation, but our enemy?”
“With the Terrans’ history, they will never forget this, or let any of the galaxy forget this for that matter.” Padmé said, downtrodden.
“You’re right.” Bail sighed. “Even if we can’t stop the war now, we can still try to prevent it from escalating even further.”
“This might just be what we need to plead our case.”
“Bring it up as a last resort, it’s risky since our opponents would use it as ammunition to call your allegiances into doubt.”
“They use everything as ammunition to call my allegiance into doubt.” Padmé pointed out.
“I know, but this session is crucial. I don’t want to derail the whole debate by giving them something to latch onto.”
“Alright, when does the Senate assemble?”
Bail glanced at the wall mounted chronometer. “We have two hours to prepare before the Financial Reform Bill and the other motions are put up for a vote. It will take a while to even explain everything that’s happened while you were gone.”
Padmé glanced at Teckla, then turned towards Bail. “Then we have no time to lose.”
Reach, Highland Mountains, FLEETCOM Military Complex
John, flanked by the rest of Blue Team, made his way through the halls leading to the base’s spaceport. Even travelling in single file, the Mjolnir clad Spartans carrying enough equipment to furnish a combat engineer platoon took up nearly a third of the corridor.
Following the waypoint in his HUD and his memory of the base, John took a right. After ascending a slight but long grade in the metal flooring, they were met with the sight of hundreds of dropships arrayed before them. Fleet Admiral Cole wanted the Spartans to be ready to go aboard the Infinity as expediently as possible, thus necessitating the foregoing of traveling aboard one of Reach’s space elevators.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
Beyond the airfield were the Highland Mountains, another familiar sight to the Spartan-IIs.
“It’s been a while since all of us Twos were in one place, hasn’t it?” Fred said, swiftly falling silent.
Fred was right, the last time they were all gathered on the same planet was during the Battle of Reach.
“War has its way of bringing us together.” John said, readjusting the strap on one of the duffle bags swaying across his chestplate.
Very swiftly, memories began to flow through John’s mind. The return from Sigma Octanus IV, preparing for Operation: RED FLAG, boarding the Long Night of Solace, fighting for weeks on end throughout the system, discovering Halo, staying behind to destroy it, FIRST STRIKE, the Battle for Earth, the Ark, Requiem, Cortana.
Though John hoped they would all be able to see each other once again, there was simply no telling how this war would play out. The UNSC was resilient, robust, and knew almost everything important about the Galactic Republic. However, the Republic had half a galaxy at their disposal.
There were only three responses John considered. Attacking in full force at their weakest point before they could muster a response, engage in unconventional warfare to nullify the advantage found in numbers or wait for reinforcements, or surrender.
A surrender, or even a tentative peace agreement, was an unlikely prospect. The UNSC would fight to the bitter end after the destruction of one of Cienna’s cities. That left the first two options on the table. The Republic controlled half a galaxy, the Navy simply didn’t have the ships to spare to cover such a massive front. Thus, they would have to strike with precision to give the Confederacy breathing room. The UNSC was a heavyweight hard hitter lacking the stamina to go the full twelve rounds.
To win would require close cooperation with their newfound Confederate allies, or the destruction of countless military strongpoints with NOVA bombs. The idea of the wholesale slaughter of other humans made John feel uneasy. The amount of lives at stake were scales of magnitudes above the trillions.
“Remember when Chief Mendez found out we were stealing food from the mess?” Kelly said, taking John out of his thoughts.
“Yeah, only after a whole month of doing it.” Fred smirked beneath his helmet.
“We should’ve listened to Kurt.” Linda remarked.
“It was a strategically sound plan.” John said with a hint of humor.
“Incoming transmission, Chief.” Cortana announced. “It’s Fleet Admiral Cole.”
“Patch him through.”
“Master Chief.” Cole greeted over the COM channel. “I need you, Blue Team, and the rest of the Spartans on board the Infinity ASAP.”
“Consider it done, sir.” John said before the Fleet Admiral cut off the link.
“Let’s move Blue Team, double time!” John barked over the SQUADCOM.
Blue Team picked up their pace to a brisk jog. John opened a secure broadcast to the other teams, informing them of the situation.
Despite being burdened with various bags and pouches, the Spartans seldom made a rattle thanks to the way they fastened their equipment to themselves.
John and the rest of Blue team had hardly thirty seconds to enjoy the warmth and light of Epsilon Eridani before they filed into the interior of a Pelican dropship. Soon after, they dusted off towards the Infinity.
John made a quick mental note to drill his Spartans relentlessly in zero-G combat as soon as they were able to use the Infinity’s training facilities. It was the closest approximation John could think of to fighting a Jedi. It might just give them the edge they needed in combat.
The Jedi were a variable on the battlefield that would be hard to account for. To John, they seemed to have the ability to generate snags on the fly. Fighting in zero-G and surmounting hazardous terrain were things every Spartan trained for, but the Jedi were an entirely different animal.
The Spartan-IVs came from the best the UNSC had to offer, with some even having served longer than the Spartan-IIs. Despite this, if there was one principle John felt a certain anxiousness to inculcate within them, it would be to think on their feet.
Throughout decades of war, John had personally seen thousands of valiant men snuffed out in an instant. In battle, no plan survives first contact with the enemy, and every life, no matter how well trained, how experienced, or how confident, is to be considered ephemeral.
There was no guarantee of survival for anyone, and John would make sure his Spartans remembered that.
Epsilon Eridani System, Staging Area Alpha
It was the largest fleet ever mustered in Human history. Thousands of ships were arrayed in formation for the big jump to Andromeda. Frigates and destroyers clustered together around cruisers, carriers, and battleships. He had even seen CMA Gorgon- and Hillsborough-Class heavy destroyers on patrol throughout the system.
In his whole naval career, only the Battle for the Epsilon Eridani System had come close to matching the sheer amount of UNSC ships Admiral White currently saw present.
Unsurprisingly, the logistics and support vessels took up the bulk of the fleet despite the high tooth to tail ratio the UNSC enjoyed. This would quite possibly be the first time in history anyone had ever undertaken an intergalactic military operation of this scale and magnitude, dwarfing even the Republic’s recent attempt.
Following its repairs, Admiral White had gone back onto the Warhound, which was nearly in the exact same condition as it was before the battle, save for the plenty of fresh kill marks painted onto its hull. White colored wedges of various sizes representing its fresh Republic kills from the battle were added next to the bulbous silhouettes signifying Covenant vessels of numerous types.
As glad as he was that he would be allowed to participate in the operation at all, he loathed the fact that his fleet would be acting directly under Fleet Admiral Cole’s own. Of course, he would’ve been under his command regardless, but to be directly under Cole’s watchful eye the entire time was not something he would enjoy.
It was not so much of a rivalry as it was a disagreement turned longstanding petty squabble ever since he had drafted what came to be known as the White Doctrine. In its initial form, Cole had objected to concentrating around strongholds while completely abandoning the Outer Colonies. That one objection might’ve cost the UNSC time they didn’t know they had, but White had to admit Cole’s revision saved billions of lives. Despite this, they had argued ever since, even over things as minute as drink choice.
Other than that, White could only guess why Fleet Admiral Cole didn’t like him, he thought it was mainly due to his quick ascension through the ranks during the War. Either that or it could be possible that Cole was envious over having to share the spotlight with him, but he didn’t seem to be the jealous type.
Though he was uncertain about the Fleet Admiral’s opinion, White knew why he didn’t like Cole. He was too much of a stickler for the rules to do what was necessary. He cared too much about pleasing his superiors by carrying out his duties with a strict code of conduct and without question…
Though he didn’t always play by the rules. The Callisto Incident had shown that much. He also seemingly went rogue to be with his insurrectionist lover after Psi Serpentis.
Now that he thought of it, his dislike of Cole might’ve been because he reminded White too much of himself.
“Sir, the final shakedown has been completed.” Captain Haithum reported. “All systems green.”
“Very good Captain.” He turned around to face Haithum. “Move us into position next to the Everest.”
“Aye aye sir.” The Captain promptly went about his duties, swiftly giving out orders to the bridge crew.
Admiral White couldn’t help but admire the impressive formation set before him. He watched the fleet as if he would miss it if he blinked. A pair of heavy destroyers, a Gibraltar and a Halberd-Class, traveled past his view.
The most crucial vessels outside of the logistics section were the carriers. Of particular importance were the Orion-Class Assault Carriers. Ten of them were currently present at the staging area, and another twenty were split between the Midguard and Harvest systems.
White had seen them firsthand in combat action against Covenant ships. They had fared well enough against them, so he had no reason to believe they wouldn’t fare just as well or even better against the Republic.
Also present were fifty modified Phoenix-Class ships spread throughout the system, with twenty five each once again at Midguard and Harvest. They’d fill in multiple crucial roles for the future of the Andromeda Campaign and White expected to see some of them in action at Taris.
At the forefront of the formation was what many held as the crown jewel of humanity.
The Infinity.
She was an impressive sight. As the lead ship of the Infinity-Class, the Infinity absolutely dwarfed every other ship currently present. Every visible square inch of her was dedicated for armor, armament, or propulsion. Titanium-A3 battleplate, weapon mounts of every kind, her engines glowed a brilliant blue. Shields and armor thick enough to scoff at energy projectors, weapons packing enough punch to make a CSO think twice, and a slipspace drive capable of carrying her thousands of lightyears in a single day. The Infinity and her sister ship, the Eternity, were the closest things the UNSC had to invincible starships.
Each one of those vessels, as well as the other carriers of various types participating in the first wave, served as the backbone around which the Marine Expeditionary Forces were formed.
Of course, the Army, which was chronically underfunded in comparison to the other branches, didn’t want to miss out on any of the action. Seventy Airborne divisions were being deployed to Andromeda, and roughly four hundred regular Army divisions would act in conjunction with the five hundred Marine divisions, fifty of which were ODSTs. Admiral White had even heard rumors that they would be reactivating the 21st SAB/ODST and forming it into a full fledged division under General Antonio Silva in preparation for the second wave.
Captain Haithum strode up to the bridge. “Sir, we are in position, destination solution locked in and final preparations for the slipspace jump are complete across the fleet.”
“Good job Captain. I want you to get some rest when we’re underway.”
“Yes sir,” he said without complaint.
“This is Fleet Admiral Cole to all ships, prepare for synchronized slipspace jump on my mark.”
White’s hair stood on end. He turned to Captain Haithum and the rest of the bridge crew. He activated his own intercom for the ships under his command. “This is Admiral White. All hands, prepare for slipspace jump.”
“Mark.” Fleet Admiral Cole said.
Thousands of portals ripped through the fabric of spacetime, and thousands of ships sallied forth into them, winking out into the pitch black nothingness.
Coruscant, Senate Building
Padmé stood in idle nervousness as she watched Chancellor Palpatine ascend the podium. The ever present murmuring went silent as Vice Chancellor Mas Amedda prepared to speak..
“To begin this Grand Convocation of the Senate, the Vice Chair recognizes Senator Bail Organa of Alderaan as first to speak.”
Bail maneuvered to the center of the chamber. “Senators, yesterday I pleaded with you to allow cooler heads to prevail. It is my hope today that you have heeded my advice. Now more than ever our Republic is threatened. It is threatened, not by the Separatists fighting against us nor their newfound Terran allies, but by financial ruin. This bill threatens to drag the Republic into bankruptcy, to destroy the very thing we are trying to protect. This bill would put us at the mercy of the banks, who will be enabled to lend money however they please. The way to protect the Republic is not by deregulating the banks to expand our war machine, but by seeking an end to this conflict. So I urge you to vote no on these bills, which will only incline us more and more to set upon the path of destruction. I now pass the floor to Senator Amidala.”
“Thank you, Senator Organa.” Padmé began, hovering in the middle of the Senate chamber. “Members of this noble Senate, once again I stand here, begging before you to seek an end to this war which has ravished the lives of everyone we are supposed to represent. We must ask ourselves what we are hoping to accomplish for them by passing these new pieces of legislation. Continue the fight for their sake? The fight which has brought the galaxy to the zenith of chaos?”
“What right have you to say such things when these malefactors pound on our doors?” One senator interrupted, exasperated.
Padmé continued, unfazed. “This war requires a new approach. We must act in a way which tells the Separatists, the Terrans, and even our own citizens that we want to end this war without further bloodshed. I know for a fact there are people in the Confederacy who wish for a peaceful resolution to this conflict.”
“You have Separatist friends, Senator Amidala?” Senator Mee Deechi inquired.
At that comment, accusations of being a traitor were hurled at Padmé.
“Who’s side are you on?!” one shouted.
“Order! Let Senator Amidala continue!” Mas Amedda commanded.
“The passing of this bill will only lead to more suffering for our own citizens, citizens like Teckla Minnau,” Padmé paused.
Various murmurs were heard throughout the Senate.
“Teckla is one of my aides,” Padmé continued, gesturing to the woman waiting by one of the entranceways. “Like so many of the people that we tell ourselves we're here to serve, Teckla lives in a district that rarely has electricity and running water as a result of the war.”
Her speech began to garner the interest of many senators, particularly those on the fence about the proposed bills, who listened intently to her words.
“Her children can now only bathe every two weeks, and they have no light in which to read or study at night. The Republic has always funded these basic services, but now, there are those who wish to drive us deeper into debt to divert money to the war with no thought for what the people need to survive.” Padmé grasped the edge of her pod, gesturing towards the Senate and then herself.
Padmé paused for a split second, pushing aside her nervousness and slight dread at the thought that trillions of people were watching her speak.
“If not for people like Teckla and her children, who are we fighting for? My people, your people, all of our people.” She resumed, motioning towards the Senate and herself. “This war is meant to save them from suffering, not increase it. I support our brave soldiers, whether they come from the clone factories or from any of the thousands of systems loyal to the Republic, but if we continue to impoverish our people, it is not on the battlefield where Dooku will defeat us, but in our own homes. Therefore, it is our duty and our responsibility to preserve the lives of those around us by defeating these bills!”
Padmé’s words were met with a tidal wave of applause from the Senate, prompting even members of the opposition to give token claps. She exchanged smiles with Teckla, Bail, Onaconda Farr, Mon Mothma, and the other senators who opposed the bill before basking in what seemed like victory for nearly a full minute.
Bail maneuvered over to congratulate her. “Simply amazing Padmé!”
“Thank you, Bail.” She timidly accepted.
“Padmé, we need to capitalize on our success. It’s a risk but it's up to you if-”
“I understand, Bail.” She said, solemnly.
Padmé brought herself about towards the middle of the convocation chamber and cleared her throat. “Vice Chair, if I may be allowed to continue briefly?”
The applause quickly dissipated.
“You may.” Mas Amedda said.
“Senators, as you well know the citizens on both sides suffered tremendously from the war. Over the years of fighting throughout the galaxy, hundreds of billions have died as a result of collateral damage. A continued escalation in the war would mean the deaths of billions more. Do we really wish for this to happen, financial ruin or not?” Padmé took a deep breath in. “Nothing exemplifies this more than the tragedy which occurred during our invasion of Terran space.”
Padmé could feel Palpatine’s demeanor change, even if he didn’t outwardly show it. “One hundred thousand,” she continued, her second dramatic pause of the evening.
“What is she talking about?” one senator murmured.
“One hundred thousand Terran civilians were killed when our fleet fired upon one of their colonial settlements. This is what war brings. This is what must end.”
She punched the datacard she’d been saving for the occasion into her hoverpod, broadcasting the images captured from a Terran warship around their colony world. Reinforcements arrived for the defenders. Then, the Republic fleet in orbit fired a full salvo at the colony world, slagging it. Slagging not only the land itself, but scorching away the hopes and dreams of one hundred thousand lives.
Many gasps and murmurs voicing disgust were heard from the mouths of senators, although the majority of the Senate merely sat in stunned silence momentarily before conversations began to break out.
“Where did you get this from?” Mee Deechi questioned.
“Liar!” one cried.
“Whose side are you on!”
“It’s clearly doctored!”
“How could we have done this?”
“Senators, if we question where Senator Amidala gets her information instead of asking ourselves if it is true, what are we really interested in?” Senator Onaconda Farr quickly pointed out, exchanging glances with Padmé.
Padmé could feel the uneasy tension in the Senate teetering little by little towards an all out screaming match.
She understood Farr’s comment was a politician's trick, the answers to both of those questions were no trivial things, but it got the Umbaran senator thinking rather than talking.
Finding herself not in the mood to take issue with her former mentor’s tactics which would play in her favor, Padmé seized the moment which would have otherwise been taken by another. “What I am saying is true. What I have shown you is true. When we receive their declaration of war, you can hear it for yourselves. By defeating these bills, we demonstrate that we believe this war can be resolved peacefully, and not by a fight to the death.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Palpatine and Mas Amedda exchanging whispers.
This is it, the moment of truth, Padmé thought. She turned towards Bail and exchanged nods.
“I say we vote on the Financial Reform Bill now,” she suggested.
Mas Amedda almost seemed irritated by the request. “There is a move to vote on the proposed bill to lift regulations on the banking clan. You may enter your vote now.”
Padmé returned to her pod’s original position and cast her vote to strike down the bill, and then remained in idle nervousness as the rest of the Senate did the same.
After a few minutes, Mas Amedda began to deliver the results.
Padmé gripped the edges of her platform in eager and impatient anticipation.
“Five hundred and eleven votes in favor of passing the bill, and five hundred and thirteen votes opposed. The Financial Reform Bill will not be passed.” Mas Amedda announced.
The tension in Padmé’s body seemed to disappear by itself, and she let out a breath of relief before nearly leaping for joy within her pod. It was a close vote, but it was a done deal.
Before she could celebrate, Mas Amedda once again whispered something to the Chancellor.
Palpatine straightened, and began addressing the Senate. “We have just received the United Earth Government’s official declaration of war!”
UNSC Infinity
John looked on as Fireteam Jackhammer struggled through the grueling obstacles he had prepared for them.
“Son of a bitch!” Spartan Harland, the team leader, yelled. The man’s feet were swept out from under him after a gravity plate was activated behind him. He only got hit by a slim margin, but in a fight a slim margin was the difference between life and death.
The man quickly unsheathed his knife and stabbed into the floorplate, stopping himself from being dragged across the floor. He rolled to the side, out of its range of effect, and swiftly shot up into a sprint down the narrow corridor. Gravity hammers swung out from every direction, forcing Harland to hastily contort his body in various directions to avoid getting flung around while the rest of his fireteam followed close behind.
Only a few moments later, the team made it to the end of the course and rang the bell, the final objective.
John was pleased with Fireteam Jackhammer’s performance, giving them an approving look.
They had adapted quickly to the changes in the situation and worked well as a team. The exercise would undoubtedly increase their confidence on the field facing the Republic’s Jedi.
Before John could counsel them on what they needed to improve on, Cortana spoke.“Chief, Rear Admiral Lasky is calling the Spartan teams to hangar bay 143, ASAP.”
John wasted no time in barking out orders, the fleet would be dropping out of slipspace soon, and then the operation would be a go. “Blue Team on me! Fireteam Jackhammer, move to hangar bay 143 on the double!”
John and the rest of Blue Team took into a sprint as Fireteam Jackhammer got themselves together.
It was a short trip to the hangar bay, and Blue Team was met with the sight of dozens of Spartans loading gear into various prowlers docked in the cavernous bay.
“Attention!” Joshua-029 called out, causing everyone in present to snap to and salute.
John returned the salutes. “As you were.”
He came up to Joshua, followed by the rest of Blue Team. “Where’s-”
“Rear Admiral on deck!” A Spartan-IV called out.
John and everyone else instantly straightened.
“At ease.” Rear Admiral Lasky said while striding over to where the bulk of the supersoldiers were, right in front of John. “I’ll make this quick. Spartans, we might not be fighting the Covenant anymore, but that doesn’t make your job any easier. You’re going to be the tip of the spear today for the operation which might hold the fate of this war in its hands. Good luck. Make humanity proud.”
Lasky saluted the Spartans, who were quick to return the gesture, and departed just as soon as he had arrived.
“I’ve taken the liberty of loading your team’s gear into the prowler, John.” Joshua said.
“Thanks, Joshua.” John said. Alarms began sounding, interrupting their conversation and signaling the fleet’s imminent exit into subspace. “Let’s get a move on Spartans!” John barked.
The Spartans swiftly policed their gear together and were all aboard their prowlers within thirty seconds.
Blue Team loaded into their prowler.
“Launch bay is this way!” A crewmember guided, gesturing between the guidance arrows and a fork in the hallway.
“John, I stowed your gear in these pods.” Joshua said, tilting his head towards a row of four open LRSOIPs.
“Roomy, I like it.” Fred said after locating his own gear, nestling himself between duffels of ammunition in his seat.
“Don’t get too cozy.” Kelly said. “We bought a one way ticket.”
“Five minutes until launch!” A crewmember called out.
“Double check comms.” John ordered. “I want strict radio discipline after we make landfall until we regroup.”
Three green acknowledgement lights winked in John’s HUD.
John got situated inside the pod. It was a tight squeeze for a Mjolnir armored Spartan.
John felt a certain excitement inside of himself. It was years since he’d been inserted into a world where resupply, reinforcements, and retreat were uncertain. There was no telling what might happen on the ground.
Despite this, John knew he and his Spartans were ready to face anything.
Boz Pity, UNSC Andromeda Staging Area
Blue portals opened in the void of space, disgorging hundreds upon hundreds of ships.
“All ships accounted for and reporting green across the board, Admiral. Our formation is intact” An officer reported. “The other fleets have already left for Ord Mantell and Lantillies.”
“Rouse Captain Haithum and double check IFFs.” Admiral White ordered before opening a communication line to the Everest.
“Sir.” White saluted.
“Admiral.” Fleet Admiral Cole returned. “Status report.”
“All ships reporting in green and formation intact.”
“Excellent. The Infinity’s already launched her Spartans. Have your fleet match my acceleration but maintain formation. Make ready for the jump, we need to move fast before they can reinforce the planet. For now, we’re sticking with my plan, but I know you can think on the fly. I’m ready to execute Operation Suckerpunch now. Today’s the start of what’s going to be a long month.”
White’s own fleet was organized in a trapezoidal shape as planned, with the three hundred or so ships divided into roughly four segments for each vertex.
Cole had opted to form a cloud of ships within the center of White’s trapezoid. Frigates and destroyers clustered next to the larger carriers and cruisers to complement each other by coordinating fire.
The fleet sat idly by for a few minutes, enough to create a fifteen minute gap between the arrival of the Spartans and the fleet. The fifteen minutes were crucial to allow the Spartan commandos to infiltrate the planet’s surface and pave the way for the invasion force’s heavy laden carriers and troop transports. It would ensure their offloaded forces would have the best chance of survival, unburdened by the threat of anti air fire.
“Captain on deck!” One called.
Captain Haithum arrived on deck from his quarters, ordering the crew back to their stations after returning their salutes.
“You ready, Captain?”
“As I’ll ever be, sir.”
Fleet Admiral Cole began a broadcast to the entire fleet. “Prepare for synchronized slipspace jump on my mark.”
White let out a primal smirk. It was time for revenge. “Let’s give these bastards hell!” He snapped to his bridge crew. He intended to hold that over them as a standing order.
“Mark!”
Slipstream ruptures once more tore through the fabric of space, this time guiding the UNSC fleet to the field of battle.
Taris
Above the vast cityscape of Taris, invisible to the naked eye and the advanced sensors of the Republic fleet, ten Shiva nuclear missiles outfitted for duration flight and with stealth packages to act as maneuverable mines coasted towards their targets on predetermined courses.
For nine of them, their targets were in orbit. Eight of those had a section of nine Golan III defense platforms defending one of the world’s poles for their targets.
The tenth kept on going. Gliding, as it were, past the other decelerating mines who broke their orbits to slow down. It descended, and after firing a short burn from one of its thrusters, slowed down to the point where it looked like nothing more than an ordinary piece of debris that endlessly orbited the planet.
With its speed slowed, it entered the atmosphere of the world, the planetside sensors tagging the weapon as a piece of debris or a small meteor which would burn up in the atmosphere, thus making it harmless. There was no alarm, no alert prompting the activation of the planetary shield, an ecumenopolis such as Taris had too much orbital and atmospheric traffic to switch it on indefinitely.
However, to the personnel manning the gigantic complex housing the primary planetary shield generator and its world wide emitter array, they watched on their screens and out of their viewports as the meteor burned through the atmosphere and began to pick up speed.
Worry began to set in with a few of the younger members of the engineering crew, but the veterans who worked countless hours watching unregistered civilian craft slip by the security forces on a daily basis didn’t give it a second thought.
For them there was no need for concern, they only needed to alert the authorities with the push of a button.
Suddenly, nine new suns appeared miles overhead as nine mighty Golan III orbital defense platforms, their thick armored hide covered in heavy turbolaser batteries and shield generators able to withstand dozens of salvos from superheavy plasma batteries, vanished in nuclear fireballs millions of degrees hot. The bulk of the planet’s fleet was put into disarray by the massive explosion within the center of its home port, where hundreds of ships were docked or patrolling nearby. Electromagnetic pulses washed down onto the planet, knocking hundreds upon hundreds of civilian transports out of the sky, trapping people in turbolifts and shutting power off in a hundred mile radius of the planet wide city. Thousands in the skyways died as flying taxis fell out of the air to crash down to the surface. Dead repulsorlifts and transport ships coming in for landings slammed into nearby buildings or fell out of the sky to crash into oblivion.
Now thoroughly panicked and bathed in red emergency lighting, the crew of the planetary shield complex could only watch as the Shiva ignited its booster and shot towards them at hypersonic speeds, air friction causing its outer shell to burn red hot and look like a speeding ball of fire.
They scrambled to activate the shield generator, getting it up for a moment, but it was too late.
Taris’s planetary shield shimmered out of existence as the complex vanished in an ominous mushroom cloud.
UNSC Now You See Me
John felt a thud as his pod launched out of the prowler into the pitch black darkness of slipstream space, still faintly hearing the deployment signal beeping within his mind.
John shifted in the pod as it rumbled through the void. LRSOIPs, or long range stealth orbital insertion pods, were just about the smallest vessels in UNSC inventory capable of making the transition from slipspace to normal space without killing their occupants.
It wasn’t the most comfortable ride, owing to its diminutive construction, but it was a relatively cheap and highly effective solution. Invisible to radar, they would bypass any remaining defenses on the planet amidst the chaos caused by Operation: SUCKERPUNCH.
It was going to be a hard and fast execution, it had to be. The fleet would be just half an hour behind. So long as the LRSOIPs did their job, the Spartans would be able to complete all their objectives within that time frame to pave the way for the Army and Marines to make their landings.
John’s pod rattled once more, it had successfully exited slipspace in the wake of the prowler, the UNSC Now You See Me. They exited close to the planet, roughly five kilometers away, coming ever closer by the second.
John could see the nukes had done a wonder on the defense fleet in orbit. Husks of ships drifted through space, the debris field was immense. Hull plating had been torn off to leave behind metal skeletons, fragments flew in all directions. Their timing had been perfect, they arrived just after the nukes had detonated, when the enemy would be the most disorganized, and the shrapnel cloud would mostly dissipate by the time the Spartans arrived. Although the pods were tough, they were not nearly as durable as a dedicated warship was.
What it lacked in resilience, it made up for in its capacity for shock and awe.
A light flashed within John’s pod. “Blue Team, coming up on final approach. Fire boosters!” He ordered.
Three green acknowledgement lights flashed once. John felt his pod accelerate under the strain of its rocket booster. They quickly breached the planet’s mesosphere and were in the stratosphere not long after. The surface became visible in detail. Fires were spreading throughout the ecumenopolis.
John pinged waypoints onto his team’s HUDs. “We’ll rendezvous at our target site.”
They were still undetected. Not a single plasma bolt or missile flew past them, meaning either the stealth coating did its job, or the nukes did by taking out local AA weapons.
The pod shook as it came down through the atmosphere, the gel layer on John’s armor compensated for the massive increase in temperature due to the pod’s speedy entry. A light buzzed on, it was time to deploy the chutes and reentry rocket.
“Blue Team, the light is green!” John pressed a button. The pod’s brakes burst forth like a flowering bud, the reentry thruster fired and began to violently slow the hurtling chunk of metal. John affixed his gear to himself in order to exit the craft in short notice.
After a few moments, John had hit the ground. The door blew off with an explosive hiss.
It was showtime.