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| - “Alright Doctor. Explain it to me again.” Verdani sat with his arms crossed, his face once again locked into a scowl. He found it stopped people making mistakes like treating him like an idiot, or asking him for favours. It sped meetings up. Unfortunately, his rank and status as the commanding officer of one of the best Helljumper battalions in the Corps held no sway over the civilian giving the brief summary. And Doctor Meredith Yankovic knew it. Frankly, he found it a little attractive about her. But mostly he just found it annoying. She sighed in equal annoyance, and pinched her nose. “Colonel Forrester, I’ve had three days to study something that needs decades to examine. I can’t tell you any more.” “And I’m not asking you to, Doctor. I’m telling you to tell me what you do know. And slower. I’m a military man, not a xenobiologist or xenoarchaeologist.” She shrugged, turning back to her display, and started it again. The holographic display warmed, light swirled through the room, and a top-down view of the region appeared. She zoomed down, until it focussed upon the sinkhole that had once been Dima hill. “After the Covenant landed their forces on the planet’s surface, ONI detected a small ship entering the atmosphere on a different angle. Not part of the fleet. A single tiny stealth ship, one which we still haven’t found yet. But we did find two Scarabs in this area. The first one was moving here from the main Covenant force. To be expected. “The second was already here, and had already begun searching near Blenheim. A special operations team followed them here, where they waited until the Covenant had excavated the artefact until they called for reinforcements. After which-” Verdani held up a hand, motioning for silence. Doctor Yankovic returned his glare. “That’s one thing I don’t understand. My Helljumpers are the only Special Ops unit in this system. If that was true, I would know about it. I would be missing Marines. And I would most certainly know more than ONI is letting you tell you.” “ONI is not-” she began, heatedly. “Right. Just keep telling yourself that. But can you answer my concern?” The Doctor adjusted her glasses, regaining her composure. “As far as I am aware, Colonel, you are the only Orbital Drop Shock Trooper unit in this system, as you said before.” Verdani frowned. As a Helljumper, he’d seen enough liars to know when someone was telling tall tales, but the good Doctor wasn’t one of them. “Then who else?” “That is something you’ll have to take up with Naval Special Weapons.” Verdani’s blood ran cold for a moment, and his glare turned into a wide-eyed stare of horror. “You mean Naval Special Warfare, surely-” “No, Colonel. Having been the person who said it, I think I’m a pretty good judge of what I meant.” Jesus. Spartans. In his damn theatre of operations. Damn. Damn, damn, damn. He didn’t hate the Spartans. Hate was a strong word, too strong for Verdani. He had met a few of them, and personally found them to be professional, skilled, intent on doing their job to the best of their abilities. And since he was a Helljumper, his seal of approval carried a lot more weight than a regular Marine CO. But as a unit, as a program, he abhorred the idea that the UNSC would willingly create less than a platoon of soldiers that could take on the Covenant on even footing, deny anyone else such capability, and then hail these Spartans as heroes of the colonies. Soldiers weren’t heroes. They were men and women who died for what they believed in. Hero was a word. Soldier was an idea. And making a group of warriors who were seemingly immune from anything the enemy threw at them heroes was an insult to the millions of regular men and women who had died in the past twenty years of war against the Covenant. Major Mitchell coughed slightly, indicating that the Doctor continue her presentation. She shuffled the papers attached to her clipboard, picked her TACPAD off the desk beside her again, and returned to the display. “After the recon team went missing, the 88th Marine Regiment moved in, with elements of the Army’s 199th Brigade and the 506th ODST Force Recon Battalion. Since my predecessor was a part of the recon team, I was called in to continue the survey. After the fall of New London, a lot of resources were switched from study and excavation to defence-” Verdani interrupted again. “As you well know Doctor, new London is less than forty kilometres from here. We are on the frontlines. If you would rather we leave you defenceless-” “That wasn’t a complaint, Colonel, merely an observation. If I may?” Verdani nodded again. “As I was saying, the lack of manpower has hindered my examination somewhat, but there are some rudimentary things that I can tell you.” She called up a number of symbols. Verdani recognised them – they were used by the Covenant. But they looked…different somehow. More elegant. Refined. Sharper. And, to an extent…deeper, whatever the hell that meant. “These symbols are carved deeply into the structure. As far as we can tell, the entire structure bears them, and they are laid in a non-random repeating pattern. So far, total translation eludes our AI’s. They are not written in any Covenant dialect, or in any style. We’ve also recorded more than 400 individually unique logograms, significantly more than that used by the Covenant. “There are also other indications that the structure is of non-Covenant extraterrestrial origin. The construction of the artefact is perfect. I don’t mean in terms of aesthetics, though its creators obviously had a fetish for angular spires. I mean it is perfect down to the molecular level, indicating an accuracy far beyond anything either the UNSC or the Covenant possesses. “It also predates the Covenant. Preliminary estimates indicate the rock strata that surrounds it to be approximately 100,000 years old, dating to the Middle Palaeolithic – back to the last Ice Age,” she said, remembering that her audience was a military man, not a xenobiologist or xenoarchaeologist. “Before the development of human civilisation, and long before the Covenant took to the stars, from what we’ve gathered on their history. “This means that the structure was obviously created by something else. Someone else. The similarities between the writing systems indicate that the Covenant at least have some knowledge of them. But beyond that, it is impossible to say with available data. Similar ruins found on Onyx, Reach, Cote d’Azure, and Bliss before it was glassed, indicate that this was an interstellar empire. I find it likely that most inhabited UNSC colonies possessed at least some remnants of their civilisation. It may be this that the Covenant are after. Or perhaps they believe our presence is a desecration. Either way, these aliens, whoever and wherever they are, are tied to this war somehow.” Verdani raised an eyebrow. “And how does that help me?” Doctor Yankovic rolled her eyes, ever-so-slightly. “This is a potential indication of the Covenant’s motivation for their war against us. Any knowledge of our enemy is better than none. At the very least, it will let us know what sins we have committed to earn the eternal enmity of their gods and their Prophets, and we might be able to correct it. At the most, it could lead to a truce. A détente. A cease-fire.” Verdani snarled, standing abruptly. “Now see here, missy! If these is EVER peace with those genocidal sons-of-bitches, it will be over my COLD, DEAD BODY!!!” The Doctor gave him an apprising look, as though studying a lab specimen that has reacted in a new way. She shrugged. “Given the rate at which the Covenant are destroying world after world, and slaughtering billions, colonel, that may very well be the case. If it ends the war and we aren’t extinct, I will regard it as a good thing.” “I don’t need to debate philosophy with some jumped-up doctor who earned her degree from some backwater colonial university. I’m done here.” Meredith waited until the Colonel was gone before she switched the holographic display back on. The swirling light returned, but the satellite photograph was replaced by another figure – a large, black reptilian, smoke billowing from holographic nostrils, eyes boring holes into her. “I was impressed, Doctor. Not many have your ability to withstand the fury of the Colonel.” She gave him a small smile. “I’ve had worse Professors in my time, Glaurung. Reach University is a hub of snobbery, pride, arrogance and spite. Frankly, he’s a little tame compared to the audience I’m used to.” Glaurung cocked his head, managing to convey through the unemotive motion that he didn’t believe her. It was almost true, though – pride wasn’t confined to military men like Colonel Forrester. “I examined your findings, Doctor. In the uncensored format that ONI approved for my appraisal. And I have found some flaws in your findings.” “How so?” “You argue that the logograms formed the basis for the Covenant writing system, and that continued comparisons of the glyphs to Covenant dialects will yield a translation. But the symbols I have observed bear only a passing resemblance to their nearest Covenant equivalents. And even when potentially comprehensible sentences can be assembled, it yields only Logorrhoea. A random jumble of words.” Meredith was curious now. “I’m sure you won’t take it as a boost to your ego when I say my intellect, as vast as it is, is no match for the sheer computing power of a Smart AI. But what is your point?” “My point, Doctor, is that Covenant translations have failed. Have you perhaps considered the possibility that the Covenant have as much idea of what the logograms actually mean as we do?” Meredith paused, mulling over that thought. “You have a good point, Glaurung. Would you add it to my briefing for Admiral Reichmuth?” “Of course, Doctor.” She began gathering her things, packing the paper, clipboard, laptop and various tiny pieces of equipment into her briefcase – a gift from her father upon graduation. She paused as her hand passed over something as alien to her as the artefacts Project TEMERITY, the project she was assigned to, had yielded – an M6D pistol. “He does care,” Glaurung said, his muzzle bowed slightly. “Not many people get past the outer shell, and the inner shell isn’t much different. You upset him with that remark about peace. But never think that he won’t lay down his life to protect humanity by any means.” Meredith picked the weapon up, feeling the weight of it in her hands. She ha received basic firearms training – most ONI consultants had to. It was heavier towards the hilt, and she doubted anything that fired a 12.7mm bullet would need a scope. But she appreciated it, tucking it snugly between his laptop and a spare sweater. “I know, Glaurung. And to be honest, I completely agree with him.” And with that, leaving a surprised but impressed dragon behind her, she departed. The squad would have laughed if they could see him now. Private Parker was, therefore, glad that they were still huddled around the warmth of the small fire they had got going. When he had joined the Army, the recruiters had told him he was entering a life of excitement and variety, fighting in the name of the motherworld, Earth. He hadn’t cared. The look on Jenny’s face when he’d shown off his uniform for the first time had been worth the effort. The cold nights, constant terror of Covenant attack, and loss after loss was not. He holds the picture, tear-stained eyes roving over its contents. He and Jenny had been eighteen – he’d just enlisted, and she’d got a job at the local newspaper as a reported. They were planning to get married – or perhaps she had just been teasing him? She did that a lot- He mentally corrected himself for what seemed like the thousandth time. She’d done that a lot. Megiddo had been glassed back in ’36. She’d been covering a story on the troops on the frontlines, when a single ship broke formation from the enemy taskforce. By the time the UNSC had moved in, the ship had glassed half the colony. He sometimes wanted to tear the picture apart. But he never did. There was a small sound from nearby. Another branch falling, no doubt. He stashed the picture away, though, in case it was a squadmate. There was another sound, louder. Parker grabbed his MA5A. That wasn’t a branch. He looked around for cover, settling on a fallen log. He crouched behind it, rifle set against the bark, aimed at the source of the noise. After a few seconds, the sound died away, and silence returned to the jungle. Parker rose, reattaching his rifle to the magnetic clamp, muttering to himself about damned jungle critters. And a few minutes later, his screams joined that of the rest of his squad.
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