Double Tap would quickly reach Fortitude's Mile, dropships taking on the wounded that the vessel had gathered for transport. The Arcadian destroyer didn't communicate beyond providing a course and ATC coordinating transportation of the wounded. What was evident, however, was that some sort of new crisis had occurred. While waiting to arrive at the orbital anchor station, Fortitude's Mile would pick up a sharp increase in the amount of radio traffic around them. It seemed the freighter that had also arrived in orbit was causing quite a commotion.
Several of the small Unidentifieds had begun moving, and the frigate greeting the problem freighter puked out several dropships, all heading surface-side. Each one was carrying a tank, and the purpose of their launch was unknown.
"So much for that 'briefing,'" Cassady huffed, grey eyes wide and brows furrowed tightly, a tell-tale sign her compulsive cataloging was in effect. "Granted we're still a few minutes out but..." The young woman nodded towards the freighter and the radio traffic that erupted around it. She couldn't kick the feeling that something just wasn't quite right.
"Cmdr., they're actually taking our wounded to get treated, right?" Cassady glanced around as the last of their men were taken aboard the foreign craft. "God, I hope they're not cannibals."
Cassady rubbed at her forehead, scrolling through her data pad and checking channels. Nothing had changed in the three minutes since she last checked. What she noticed that had changed was strapped to the commanders thigh. She sucked in a sharp breath.
"Cmdr., did you mod your M6 again?! I just finished the paperwork for the last one."
"It was a long four months, and the handgrip was not comfortable, nor weighted. I made… adjustments," Cmdr. Fujiwara answered back with the closest thing to sheepishness the staid woman could produce, notably avoiding eye contact with Cassady.
"Cmdr., diagnostic's finished on the other mystery ships," Hypatia cut in. "Either we went in a weird direction with ship design and aesthetic in the last forty years, or these aren't ours— way too advanced. On top of that, the friendlies we do know have energy shielding I haven't ever seen before."
Fujiwara's eyes remained on the ships' coordinates before her, like milling ants around an overturned beetle. The picture she was gathering here made her think of a rally point, but this was too chaotic to be a simple rendezvous.
"This will be as much fact-finding mission as diplomacy. Pruitt, on your best behavior, please."
An all-clear was given that they had made contact with the dock and were ready for hook-up. Fujiwara didn't know if she should be holding her breath or sighing with mad relief.
"How are we on munitions? Depending on how things go, we may need a full restock."
With the Fortitude's Mile docked to Anchor 1, it was time for Commander Markus to present himself. He'd shared host duties with Lupes Devries since Double Tap had been assigned to the Arcadia Naval Garrison, and while the two had their differences, they were well respected for their decorum and presentation. That being said, Markus was glad that it was he who greeted the crew of the Fortitude's Mile, rather than Devries. Let the civilians handle civilians, and let the soldiers handle soldiers.
As Anchor 1 extended an umbilical to the Fortitude's main airlock, Markus checked over himself a final time. Shoes polished like black mirrors, uniform spotless, and cap firmly in place. The airlock door began sliding open, and he stood at attention, ready to salute Commander Fujiwara as soon as she stepped into view.
As he came into view, Fujiwara snapped to salute him as well. In comparison, she was slightly threadbare, the inevitable wear of months starside. She fell into parade rest, eyes briefly scanning the other man.
"Commander Markus, welcome to the Fortitude's Mile. I'm Commander Naomi Fujiwara, and this is my Weapons Officer, Cassady Pruitt. I appreciate your willingness to take time and bring us up to speed. We've been out of the loop for some time it seems. If you'll follow me…"
Fujiwara led the way back to the briefing room, the ship well-maintained, albeit still sporting the marks of previous engagements.
Weapons Officer Cassady J. Pruitt was on her best behavior— meaning she had her eyes open and her mouth closed. She mimicked her commander while taking in the minute details the two shared and especially the ones they didn't. She took a peek behind him, at the airlock mechanisms beyond and realized with a pang that even they were different. Similar enough, true, but she could tell by the form and the tilted degrees it'd been changed, upgraded over time. Cassady suppressed a sigh, just as she suppressed the urge to correct Cmdr. Markus.
God, even Hypatia could get that right.
She followed behind both commanders, stealing glances behind her, wishing she could spend a minute just cataloging the differences in the umbilical. Her cataloging was too useful though and admittedly, she was interested in hearing about everything new. When they made it to the briefing room, Cass stood off to the side, readying some meager refreshments.
"Black coffee or water?"
"Water, thank you," Markus spoke with a resigned tone. As the party had marched through the ship, the modern commander had seemed to age.
"I've taken the liberty of ordering information on your next of kin. Old service records still exist, after all. It's liable to be a few weeks; but the families of your crew, living or dead, will get to know you've returned."
Markus' eyes focused in the distance for a moment, "That being said, it's time I informed you of the important changes in the world."
Markus placed a small projector on the table, "The Insurrection fell into the background not long after you disappeared. That is not because of a UNSC victory."
The projector displayed an image of what appeared to be UNSC personnel fighting a great ape in armor. Markus continued, "In 2525, humanity made First Contact with intelligent alien life," the projector displayed an image of Harvest on fire, "It did not end well."
The projector changed to show a map of human space. One by one, planets turned red, and a chilling message played from the machine, "Your destruction is the will of the Gods."
Fujiwara's dark eyes widened in shock at the image of an unknown humanoid creature — in bulky armor, with foreign weapons — fighting a soldier. She slowly stood from her seat to walk towards the projection of the rapid loss of territory. Her gaze honed in on the planets still in their control.
"They outpaced us, militarily. The proverbial Cortès meeting the Aztecs," she guessed, looking to Markus. "So we are currently fighting these aliens, then? They have some… religious pogrom against us?"
Cmdr. Markus' actions were thoughtful, a bit intrusive, surely, but kind nonetheless. Cassady knew many among the crew would find it a bittersweet blessing to find out what transpired during their elongated slip through space. The weapons officer set the glass of water down with little interest and got as close to the projection as was polite, absorbing as much as she could.
"Or have we already been destroyed?" Cassady tacked on with a grimace, motioning to the legion of red planets.
"I assure you, we haven't been destroyed," Markus' presentation changed screens again, this time displaying what could only be described as a juiced-up ORION soldier. Footage from CCTV cameras followed as this soldier drove a warthog through urban streets, facing down alien hordes.
"A group of Super Soldiers known as Spartans turned the tide of the war. The leader of these soldiers, a man known as the Master Chief, was able to eliminate the Covenant's leadership, and a truce was formed with one of the species of this Covenant. The Sangheili."
The projector changed again. A spinning holo of an alien with a split jaw, taller than any human Fujiwara and Cassady had ever seen. Footage of them butchering marines turned to scenes of these 'Spartans' doing the same to them, ending with a helmet cam video of a Spartan and one of these aliens charging into a horde of apelike aliens.
"Currently, this alliance still holds. The two larger unidentifieds that you've seen belong to this species. Various members of other species have also chosen to work alongside the UNSC, but we can go over that later. Do you have any questions so far?"
Fujiwara sat back down again with the full weight of this new knowledge, her fingertips pressed together under her chin as she took in the totality of the situation. They had been pushed, but humanity pushed back. Her eyes slid back to Markus, and she blinked, slowly.
"What holdings does humanity still have on the board? What are our resources? And how can we contribute?" Fujiwara asked calmly, but her eyes continued to flick between Cassady and the alien species they were now allied with — and evidently against.
"We are still UNSC assets. What aid we can provide, we will give."
They had little other choice.
"The UNSC has a few worlds left in the Outer Colonies, and a number of Inner Colony worlds. Earth is under the control of a third hostile faction, Reach was glassed in the final months of the previous war. Tribute is the current seat of power."
"There's more to know, however," Markus' presentation changed again. Now it displayed an array of the ape-like aliens. These wore different armor from the previous slides. No longer blues and purples, but matte reds and blacks. "We face two enemies now, and the first is the Banished. They started as a pirate group operating around the fringe of the old Covenant. Now they've grown to be the dominant power in the galaxy. While the employ every species, they are led by man-eating apes known as the Jiralhanae. In 9 days, the bulk of Arcadia's fleet is deploying to a former UNSC colony world, now controlled by them."
The slide changed again, now displaying automatons that seemed to be made of floating pieces, with no hard connections. Markus continued, "Our other enemy is a force of advanced progenitor machines bent on galactic domination. The Master Chief, hero of the last war, was deployed to cut the head off that snake a month ago. He's out of contact, but we're starting to see signs of disorganization. My bet is that he was successful, and we'll see him popping up again soon."
"As for what you can do? Rest awhile. Your ship is so outmoded a single fighter could kill it, let alone a warship. We can repair and refit the Fortitude's Mile, get her ready for the threats we now face. If you'd rather keep moving, try to get to Tribute and Highcom, I'll at least have your slipspace drive replaced. Can't have you disappear into the void for another 40 years, now can we?"
Fujiwara digested the information she was given in one fell swallow, eyes slowly moving over their new enemies with a languid, predatory intent. It was the look a mastiff might wear, sniffing for the bear it would soon sink its teeth into and attempt to bring down.
So much has changed. One thing did remain. An old gun was better than no gun.
"Your offer is appreciated. To be frank— I do not believe rest is in the cards. We have had four months enough of rest," Fujiwara stated. "Highcom may wait. How fast can you refit our ship?"
Those men and women who would desire immediate recuperation would have their opportunity on Arcadia. Fujiwara got the feeling there would be very few takers.
"It's going to be a few weeks. Time enough for us to salvage another drive and replace yours. Roll out new armor for your superstructure, upgrade and replace your weapons, carve out space for a shield generator. Your crew is also going to need extensive retraining for what they're going to face out there."
She tapped the surface of the table with her fingernails, chafing under the time constraint. Ah, they had slipped forty years ahead. What was another few weeks?
"Perhaps by then, we will have adjusted to this strange new Galaxy we find ourselves in. One full of monsters, which finally do not wear our faces. I wish I could feel relieved," the commander stated, looking to Cassady.
"Please update my weapons and engineering officer on any advances made in the meantime. We shall have plenty of opportunities for further questions later."
She stood then, shoulders bowed by some invisible weight.
"I wish you luck on your future endeavors. I appreciate the grace you have offered us, and your forthrightness."
"Of course, Captain. It's an honor to be the one welcoming you back. If you have any further questions, let me know. Otherwise, I'll see you when we get back from Levosia," Markus extended a handshake, a warm smile on his face.
