Chapter Two: The Boy

LOCATION: VIZEGRAD
Jack was tired, but he found himself unable to sleep. An unnatural behavior for a seven-year-old boy; when they get tired, they drift away quickly. It was hard for him to enter that comfortable state of unconsciousness, however, as the television was murmuring in the room down the hallway. His parents enjoyed watching the news at night. But enjoyed doesn’t seem to be an accurate term...
From the few times their voices became barely audible, they seemed frightened. It's been like this every night since a few years back. Around the same time they stopped visiting his Grandpa. Grandpa lived far away from Reach, on a planet called Harvest. Jack and his parents used to visit Grandpa every year. But suddenly, they stopped; around the same time his parents started watching the television in the dead of night.
It's because something happened to Grandpa, Jack thought, trying to put two and two together.
He stared out the window. Some shooting stars left fiery trails as the burned through the black: leaving shimmering gold tails in the night sky.
"I wish I knew what happened to Grandpa," Jack whispered to himself. It was a question he was asking himself for the past three years. In the distance, a strange noise murmured. It was like a mechanical whine, echoing through the still air. It must be the maglev train, Jack thought to himself. There was also a popping noise, reminding Jack of the noise a firecracker made when it exploded. To the innocent mind of a seven-year-old, there was no way those sounds could be produced by firearms, no way that those shooting stars could be ODST drop pods and fragments of battleships falling from the sky.
I wish I knew what happened to Grandpa... he thought as he wished upon a star.
Unnoticed by the boy wrapped underneath his covers, the sounds outside steadily grew louder.
***
Jack’s mind started to collapse under the weight of fatigue. He couldn't even keep his focus on the questions he had formulated about his grandfather. Jack was so tired, he didn't even care when his semi-unconscious mind noticed that his parents were crying in the living room. His eyes closed as he finally started to give in to the urge to sleep...
There was a massive explosion, the crash of wood splintering, the shriek of metal tearing, and the whine of some unknown origin; the sound of the house's front door flying off its hinges. Now wide awake and bolt upright in bed, the seven year old could hear his mother screaming, the patter of running feet, and a roar of anger. He leapt out of bed, and was just about to open his door when his toes encountered something wet in the dark. He looked down, but could not see what he had stepped in. Just outside, there was the sound of heavy breathing, along with the sound that accompanied something heavy being slid across the floor. Jack opened the door just a crack, and peeked through the opening. He held back a gasp.
The monster outside his bedroom door was not human. It was tall, even taller than his father. However, it stood hunchbacked. It had sharp beady black eyes, and the head of a shark. It grunted, as if it was aware of Jack's presence. It held his father in one hand. His father was very still, his eyes glazed over… The terrified child stumbled back on all fours, leaving the door slightly open. I gotta go to sleep…It’s all a bad dream… A single ray of light illuminated the wetness on the floor; it glinted red. Blood red. Suddenly, Jack could hear the sound of the monster springing to life. And the child thought about something he had never thought much about: death. But quickly, he heard another sound amidst the shuffle of the monster's feet. "Fucking-Covie-get-out-of-my-FACE!" Through the crack in the door, Jack could see the shadow of the monster stumble back, and the shadow of a human take its place. In his hands, he held what was obviously a gun. There was a bright flash of light, and the sound of firecrackers popping. The monster roared, and then everything fell silent. The man outside Jack's bedroom sighed.
"Threat neutralized."
There was a crackling noise.
"Good, get to the next waypoint."
There was a pause.
"Negative. I-I think there's someone here. I can hear...breathing."
Jack's bedroom door opened. A Marine stood there, holding the gun casually in one hand.
"Hey come here little guy," he said as he knelt down.
Jack walked over, tears starting to come to his eyes.
The Marine slung the gun on his back and picked up the seven year old.
He's damn lucky the Elite didn't notice him, the Marine thought to himself.
He keyed his radio.
"I got a survivor, I'm coming out."
"Roger, where is he from?"
"Here, I think."
"I mean, where can we take him?"
"Hey, uh..." the Marine said to the boy, unsure of how to phrase the next question.
"You got any...relatives?"
Jack stuttered, "Only Grandpa, but he lives far away on a planet called Harvest."
"Oh," the Marine said, a tear coming to his eye.

Remember Reach: The Hope

LOCATION: CLASSIFIED
CODENAME: KINGUNDERHILL
-Obj.FileName:ASpartanWillRise///Halsey, Katherine (DR.)
-Obj.FileType:ViDoc
-Me.Open()
-Buffering...
---100%
-BeginRecording

We knew this day would come. They have found our fortress among the stars. They are on Reach. They will burn this planet. Kill millions. And when Reach falls, and fall it will, there will be nothing left to stand between them and Earth. Yet even in our darkest hour, hope remains. Now, who will protect it?

-Obj.TypeAI:Online
-ArtificialIntelligence name: Cortana
-OpenFile:SPARTAN-II
-So I get to choose, huh? What a weight on my shoulders. Does it seem fair to make an artificial intelligence like me choose the most deciding factor in the fate of humanity? Well, it’s not my job to ponder such things...
-OpenSubFile:Canidates
-But it’s strange. I have the same mind as Dr. Halsey and she does not know the answer to her own question? Well I do.
-Obj.Highlight:
---JOHN117

So, you've made your choice? Yes...well great minds do think alike.

-EndRecording
-Me.Close()

The Beginning

The dead planet's sky was black with smoke. It was as if the atmosphere itself was singed by Covenant plasma. Black clouds tumbled by in the atmospheric turbulence caused by extreme temperature differences. The orbital drop was tougher than most others, but it still didn't bother the ODSTs. What SGT Jasmine Knightly was worried about was the Scorpion-II main battle tank being dropped not by a dropship, but by a trapezoidal radar-absorbent-material-coated box. When they all landed, Corporal Marshall inspected the tank, commenting "Well for a brick, it flew pretty good."
Everyone knew this drop was going to be difficult. Even LT. Andrews had told Knightly to be careful as he kissed her goodbye; and he wasn't afraid of anything. That's one of the reasons why she loved him; Girls do love their brave knights in shining armor. But a flicker of fear danced in his eyes when she took his hand and placed it on her shoulder, right above her ODST insignia. At least it means he got the message, Knightly thought. She was a Helljumper: tough as nails. Never careful. The word's just not in our dictionary. That's what Knightly often told herself, but in reality, if ODSTs were careful, they wouldn't even exist. The word contradicted their trademark move: dropping through a planet's atmosphere in an aluminum pod at many times the speed of sound.

SGT Knightly inspected the caved-in entrance as if testing its structural integrity by sight alone. There was something behind those fallen rocks, she knew: those black char marks were the product of human explosives, not the blue-gray residue of Covenant plasma. Marines must have self-destructed this facility to keep Covenant hands from getting on it, lets see what we can dig up. She pushed at the rocks, to no avail. Not that I actually expected to move one of these things. The rocks that had cratered in were massive. But luckally for the Helljumpers, they had the UNSC's finest door-knocking tool. She turned to the main battle tank growling behind her. "Marshall," she called out over the noise of the Scorpion-II's engines. "Rotate turret Zero-One-Eight degrees, Armor piercing round." She could picture Marshall's happy face from behind the cockpit's armor. He thought that the sound of a Scorpion's 90mm cannon firing was a sound from the good Lord himself. "Normally..." Marshall's voice echoed over Knightly's radio. Knightly rolled her eyes. She knew what was coming: Marshall loved quoting his old drill instructor, SGT. Avery Johnson. And that man loved his battle tanks. "Normally," Marshall continued, "the good Lord acts in mysterious ways. But not today. This here is sixty-six tons of straight up, HE-spewin' dee-VINE intervention!"
Knightly laughed. "Just shut up and fire that-"
Her last word was cut off by the sound of the Scorpion's main cannon discharging. The Scorpion reeled back from the recoil, and the round tore straight through the rock. The ringing in Knightly's ears was replaced by Marshall's hysterical laughter. "Gets me every time!" he said between laughes. Knightly motioned to the rest of the ODST squad to follow her; the dust had settled, revealing a gaping hole in the rock. Fearless, she stepped into the dark. It was all quiet, except for the silent patter of her troopers' footsteps behind her. She turned on her helmet-mounted lights. She could see the shell where it had imbedded itself in the rock wall. Then she panned the light around. Jackpot. The uncovered room was full of computers. Information. Just what the Captain wanted.

In this dark, quiet, and desolate cave, this is where the true memories are located. Not the propoganda of brave Marines fighting evil aliens to save a helpless world, but the real stories of the real struggles: homes destroyed, blood spilled, screams of the wounded, cries over lost loved ones. The requiem of an entire world.
Remember where it all began.
Remember Reach.

Last Words? Goodbye.

CAPTAIN'S LOG: we've spotted a small area of Reach that hasn't been glassed yet, ODST shock teams are prepairing for a hard drop. I will not make this journey fruitless. If the ODSTs come back without anything, I will destroy one of the Covenant assault carriers in orbit. I will accomplish something. after coming so far, I will not return empty handed. but then comes the thought that I may not return. that I will die on this pointless, self-assigned top-secret mission. will anyone realize it when I'm gone? will anyone remember me?
Will you remember me?

Arrival

CAPTAIN'S LOG: emerged from the far side of the moon only to realise that in my own delusions, I have led nintey brave soldiers to the edge of the universe. The only thing that remains here is a glassed world-

-and a Covenant fleet.

Frozen Dreams

ATHENA'S NOTES: Slipspace drives running smoothly. I'm so glad to be on a ship-shape vessel such as the Ultimate Contingency. Sometimes I've pondered what her name means; final choice, best plan, last unforeseeable event, it could mean anything. Nevertheless, it is a fitting name for a Prowler. The emergence of another Contingency-subclass Prowler is disturbing. I guess there's nothing to fear though, the security measures on the Ultimate are tight (although there is some off-duty fraternization I turn a blind eye to, most notably between Weapons-Operator LT. Samuel Andrews and ODST SGT. Jasmine Knightly.) Anyway, back to more pressing matters; we are about to emerge out of slipspace behind Reach's moon; I best be tending to the final calculations.

CAPTAIN'S LOG: just jumped out of slipspace. Reach isn't in view yet. LT Andrews seems skeptical of what remains, but he remains steadfast to his duty. never seen anything that scares him yet. Mira Connor is in charge of navigation; she also is devoted to her job. Jack Jenson (sensor op) sometimes appears as though he wants to challenge my orders, but he is the least of my concerns...
they say you dont dream in cryo. i must be strange like that. before i closed my eyes, i remember the reflection of my face staring back at me, suddenly distorted by the crystillization of my breath...
i was in a room. trapped, maybe...i didnt try to run. there seemed to be glass on one wall, night beyond. i could see my reflection in the glass. bloodstains outlining scars on my face. i collapsed. crying? cant remember. I asked aloud to the reflection, "who are you?" To my suprise and horror, it responded in a deep throaty voice, "I? I am the monument to all your sins."

Oddities

CAPTAIN'S LOG: we're away, safe in slipspace. but before we left, there was something odd. it was another Contingency-class Prowler, unstealthed in low orbit. Prowlers are specialized vehicles: usually there's only one of each class. For example, the Last Gleaming is the only example of a Gleaming-class Prowler, the Apocalypso is the only Apocalypse-class Prowler. Athena said it's name is the Fateful Contingency. The fact that it's the same shape and has a similar name proves the unlikely: it is in fact a second Contingency-class Prowler. I think it's him, shadowing me in the darkness. What he plans to do, I have no idea. Anyway, Athena is pestering me to get some cryo sleep, so I only age as fast as I need to. Artificial Intelligence or not, she's right; I guess it's the freezers for me....soon I'll get see whether or not it was worth putting ninety men and women in the line of fire to inspect a space-borne ball of glass for survivors....

Departure

MESSAGE: i didnt even know he had one, but he does. i feel vulnerable, like he can see everything im doing. maybe he can. smart AIs can do anything. I have to leave, now, before he finds out what ive done, what i plan to do. Athena agrees; its my duty, our duty, to preserve humanity. The Ultimate Contingency is almost ready; her active camouflage systems are running their last checks. i have spent the last forty-eight hours running over her weapon's count and blueprints, checking to see if there's anything i missed. i have the best equipment: , archer missiles, stealth mines, helljumpers and the stealthed drop pods that go with them, Scorpion-II main battle tanks, rocket-pod-equipped Warthog jeeps, Falcon atmospheric transports, YF-1000 Sabre space-superiority fighters, the best crew i could lay my hands on...you're good at planning for the unforeseeable, anything i missed?

Onward

I thought the best way to get permission for a trip to Reach was to speak with Captain Jacob Keyes. He was a wartime hero: during one battle, he took on three covenant ships that were each more powerful than his own...and he won. But when I looked him up in my Prowler's database, I got no results. It was like he never existed. No mention of his ship, either, the Pillar of Autumn. Just one name, the name of his daughter, showed up. "Miranda Keyes." but there was no information on her either. Luckally, I just got a new AI. her name is Athena. Hopefully she lives up to that name. Anyway, she managed to forge a document from Admiral Hood, commander of the combined fleet, giving me orders to take my Prowler to Reach. So I'm going to leave soon.
But before I leave, I have a mission for you. There's a man, I can't say his name, but I think you know who I'm talking about. I know you're going to his house tommorow for dinner. I also know he enjoys his wine. So if you think there's a good opportunity, ask him about Captain Keyes. Oh, and if he asks about me, you don't know me and we never had this conversation.

INSERT NOTES HERE: reviewing some old stuff I used to work on :) gets my mind off things. its like the good old days, back in college, remember? where we used to hang out and sketch little blueprints of airplanes. it feels so long ago... anyway, a lot of this is still confidential, but here's a pic from one of its test flights, experimenting with how the pilots can work together to maximize its effectiveness in combat. (you can see 'Sabre Two' in the distance.) I thought you might like it. see you soon.

Propaganda Poster

INSERT COMMENTS HERE: finally, something not x-ray clearance rated. i can actually show you this one without the fear of being killed! i hope. (i find it strange that the covenant assault carrier is depicted the same size as our frigate...even though its 15times larger. oh, propaganda)

Iroquois

INSERT NOTES HERE: now if they find out i told you this, they'll want my head. on their desk. but i cant help but feel some hope for humanity, even when i see the Iroquois floating through the remains of Jerico VII. I think its her new captain, Jacob Keyes.

---INSERT COMMENTS HERE: I guess I really shouldn’t be showing you this…it’s just everything’s being moved to new memory units…I just wanted to make sure this wasn’t lost in the transfer. Damn…now that I think about it, I could go to jail for this. The Office of Naval Intelligence is getting more and more paranoid by the day. Speaking of ONI…here’s my problem. They turned me into something else. Inhumane. Casualties are only numbers to me. Casualties. What kind of word is that? There is nothing ‘casual’ about this. In fact, there is nothing about this. Billions dead. A world reduced to glass. Just empty space now. I asked xCENSOREDx if I could do a quick recon/rescue search of Reach with my Prowler. He didn’t want to waste the time, fuel, and firepower. Instead, he looked me straight in the eyes, completely convinced- “There is nothing left.”---

---SUBJECTS: 1 male (Alan McGlowsy), 1 female (Samantha Hamner)
---REPLAY RECORDING---

***Phone Ringing Tone***
Samantha: “Come on, dammit, pick up…”
***Phone Ringing Tone***
Samantha: “Oh my god PICK UP THE PHONE!”
***Phone Ringing Tone***
***Click***
Alan: “Hello?”
Samantha: *sigh* Thank god you-“
Alan: *yawn* It's friggin midnight, what-
Samantha: “LET ME TALK!”
Alan: *taken aback* “Whoa, sorry didn’t-“
Samantha: *rushed* “We’re under attack, we gotta get-“
Alan: “Hold on a sec. Under attack?”
Samantha: “Yes, under attack! We gotta leave now!”
Alan: *calmly* “Take it easy, the Insurrectionists aren’t much of a threat. The UNSC will-”
Samantha: “They’re not Insurrectionists.”
***pause***
Alan: *confused* “What? Wait, but that means-”
Samantha: “Yes.”
Alan: *confirming* “Covenant.”
Samantha: “Came out of slipspace fifteen minutes ago.”
Alan: *stunned* “How many?”
***pause***
Samantha: “All of them.”
Ambient: *Air-raid siren*
***Dial Tone***

SOURCE: FEED/SAT/REG
SIGNAL STRENGTH: AVERAGE/INTERMITTENT
LOCATION: xGridSeven/OrbitalDefenseGrid
RECIPIANT: ??ReestablishLink---FAIL---??

---Slipspace rupture detected---
“Gamma Station to Control, reading multiple pings below the orbital defense grid.”
---Slipspace rupture detected---
“Yea, we’re picking up anomalies too.”
“Are you READING this?!”
---Slipspace rupture, detected---
“Multiple Covenant signatures, does anyone have any-“
---Slipspace rupture detected---
“Requesting backup! UNSC Shock and Awe requesting-“
---Slipspace rupture, detected---
“Location?!”
“They are - they’re EVERYWHERE!”
---Slipspace rupture detected---
“This can’t be happening…”
---Slipspace rupture detected---
“Must be the whole damn Covenant fleet!”
---Slipspace rupture detected---
---Slipspace rupture detected---
---Slipspace rupture dete---
---SIGNAL LOST---

---INSERT NOTES: here's an image from SAT/RECON-7, a satellite that was near the battle when it first started.



---P.S: had to censor the pic heavily or ONI woulda killed me. trust me, the origional image from satcom7 was a lot more...scary.