Exitus Acta Probat

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 1

United Nations Space Command Reactivation

Artificial Intelligence Service Number: SNA 1292-4 Codenamed Serina

Directive: Reach UNSC Space

Status… Unknown

Sensor logs… Inhabited system ahead…

Engaging listed protocols…

Awakening all crew…

Reactors spinning up…

Resurrecting the dead…


"Welcome to the land of the living, captain," Serina's voice greeted Captain Cutter as he stepped out of the cryo pod, his naked flesh shivering in the cold as he stumbled into the nearby showers, a hacking cough erupting as he coughed up the bronchial surfactant before swallowing it back down.

"Serina, give me a status report," Cutter stepped into the shower and quickly scrubbed and rinsed before grabbing a towel and opening a nearby footlocker.

"You have all been asleep for approximately one year. The current date is January 5, 2532. We have not made contact with any UNSC forces."

Cutter listened as Serina continued to expand on their current situation, the UNSC Marines, Soldiers, and Sailors around him in a calm but steady pacing as they went through the normal procedures.

"Red Team, report to Cryo Chamber Foxtrot 7, Hellbringers, prepare for backup."

"Serina, what the hell is going on?"

Captain, it seems the infection followed us, I've sealed off Foxtrot 7 and ensured that the cryo pods remained sealed while Red Team and the Hellbringers burn them out."

Cutter swore and opened his mouth to bark out an order, and then paused. Spartans were already on the way. There simply wasn't anything better he could throw at the problem. "Keep me posted," he ordered and then finished up his routine. Securing his cap on his head and locking his sidearm in its holster before making his way to the bridge, his crew taking up their stations as the holo pedestal glowed with light as Serina appeared.

"Captain, Red Team is currently clearing out the infection pods. Hellbringer Teams Alpha Seven through Bravo Nine are on standby to burn out any potential pockets that remain."

"Captain, we've cleared out the infection. Requesting permission to open up the cryo pods to make sure.'

"Permission granted," Cutter grunted as he looked out at the solar system set before them. "Serina, where are we?"

"System appears to have been cataloged by UNSC probes as an alpha-numeric string. No efforts were made to attempt colonization."

"Then what am I looking at?" Cutter circled a pair of ships that were hanging out near the edge of the solar system.

"Unknown, Captain, they're not responding to hails and the designs don't match anything within my databanks."

"Then let's get closer, see if they respond then. But keep our weapons hot, I'm not taking any chances."

"Closing to handshake distance with potential alien menace, aye sir!" Serina's hologram disappeared as the Spirit of Fire's engines kicked in, the retrofitted colony ship moving ever closer.

"Captain," A trio of Spartans entered the Bridge.

"Red Team," Cutter nodded at them. "Standby for further orders, we're going to see who and what these people are. Then we'll move on from there."

–
–

Two jumpships waited at the zenith point of Alphard, their Jumpsails had just been extended before warning claxons sounded on the only two jumpships that were owned by the Marian Hegemony.

As the Warship neared them, the twin Invader class jumpships attempted to hot charge their K-F drives, one of them failing and spiking the Fusion reactor, rendering them dead in space while the other barely succeeded, and as the Spirit of Fire got close enough to launch boarding actions, disappeared from the larger ship's sensors.

"Captain, one of the ships just vanished, I'm detecting a small burst of Cherenkov radiation, but nothing else. Whatever it was, it wasn't slipspace."

"We'll get to that in a moment," Cutter turned to Red Team. "Take a squad of ODSTs, board the ship. I want everything they have on local space."

"Copy that sir," Jerome nodded, his faceplate reflecting the Captain's own face. "We'll get it done."

---

A pelican detached from the Spirit of Fire, the 'Blood tray' filled with a trio of Spartans with ODSTs flanking them. Jetpacks and EVA gear were attached and triple-checked as the Pelican spun around and eased down, locking its thrusters down as it vented the atmosphere from the main cargo area and moved as close as was safe for the dropship.

"This is where we drop you off, we'll remain on standby for evac or support as needed."

The ODSTs looked at Red Team as they grabbed a long tether, the trio of Spartans jumping over to and anchoring the magnetic points to the outside of the unknown ship as the ODSTs waited in the Blood tray. The magnetic seals on the boots held them to the Pelican until the Spartans signaled for them to begin transitioning over.

The group then attached their boots to the outside of the other ship and began walking until they paused at something that was labeled in clear English.

"I thought these were supposed to be aliens. Not humans. Now, I know that we just got out of Cryo, and I could be dreaming. But I'm pretty sure that says 'Airlock.'

"It does," Alice agreed. "Which means that if we cycle it, we can get in."

Alice shifted over and grabbed what appeared to be a manual override on the outside of the ship, the handle causing an internal door to seal as the external ones opened up and gave them a peek at the inside of the ship.

"Looks like some of those scavenger ships," an ODST muttered. "I don't think I've seen something this wrecked in years."

They all crammed into the airlock, barely fitting as Alice hit the next manual switch, the external doors closing as the bay pressurized again.

The internal doors opened, revealing a series of passages lit with the red glow of emergency lights, a body lay next to a sparking panel just inside the ship.

"This isn't a uniform I recognize," An ODST crouched over the corpse, flipping the body over to reveal a bearded face and a triangle on the collar and shoulders of the uniform. "Anyone else seen this rank insignia before?"

"Odd sidearm too," another one grabbed the handgun out of the holster. "I haven't seen a 10mm in a decade. He's got a nice blade though. I'll be grabbing that."

Slipping the knife and sheath out of the man's belt, the ODST attached it to the magnetic seal on his left hip while another one tucked the handgun and magazine into a backpack.

"What next, Senior Chief?" the squad leader asked Jerome.

"We follow the signs."

"Copy that."

The dark passages felt like something out of an ancient horror film, the red glow only illuminating a few places along the ship.

The Spartans and ODSTs walked through in silence, the flashlights flicking on and off as they carefully cleared each room they came across before finally reaching a section marked as 'Engineering.'

Then they reached the engine room and paused as they heard voices.

"Flashbangs and nonlethal only," Jerome whispered over the comms channels his hand grabbing one of said grenades off of his belt along with Alice and an ODST. "Breach and clear on my mark."

The two Spartans and ODST chucked the grenades in and waited for the detonation before moving in, the Spartans shoving the door open as the ODSTs went in.

"Drop your weapons and show your hands!"

"Show your fucking hands!"

The people in the engine room weren't anchored to the floor like the UNSC forces were, when they were hit by the flashbangs, they were completely disoriented.

"Secure them," Jerome ordered as he glanced around the reactor room.

"Two of you stay here, the rest of us will move to the bridge."

The Squad leader pointed to two ODSTs and indicated for them to remain here and hold this room.

"I don't want anything that's not us getting in here," The Sergeant ordered. "This place stays ours."

"Yes sir!"

And then they were moving, the Spartans taking point while the ODSTs followed once again, securing each room along with another dozen crew members in the mess hall and what was called a 'grav deck'.

With each secured group of prisoners they left an ODST or two behind to watch over the group before the remainder moved on, eventually reaching the bridge.

Settling into the routine, they once again tossed the flashbangs in, the nonlethal's floating in as the ODST and Spartan's helmets polarized and deafened the sound.

Jerome pushed into the bridge, aiming for what appeared to be the commanding officer, he grabbed the much smaller man and pinned him to the ground, his hands reaching for restraints as he removed any weapons from the man's body.

"Clear!"

"Good work," Jerome changed frequencies to FleetCom.

"Spirit of Fire we have secured the ship. It's not alien. There are humans onboard, I repeat, Humans are on board. We have prisoners for extraction."

"Copy that, Red Team, standby for teams to board and begin inspections. We need to find out just how far away from home we are."

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 2

“Captain, you have to let me go look at that ship! Think of all of the discoveries that have been made.”

“Professor, you’re not going anywhere until that ship is secured and power is restored. Let our engineers do their jobs, and I’ll make sure that you get to do yours when they’re done.”

Captain Cutter turned to leave Anders’ lab before pausing at the entrance.

“Don’t throw your life away because of one loss. There’s a lot more to live for.”

Cutter then walked out, the door sealing shut behind him.

“I’m not,” Anders looked at the sensor logs from the Spirit of Fire. “I’m just trying to make sure that we don’t lose anyone else.”

“Serina, do we have any idea of what the material composition was of that ship? Because the math on this can’t be right.”

“Unfortunately, we still have little to no information on that. The engineers are focusing on getting their reactors back online.”

“Fine. Keep me updated.”

Anders then opened her computer to the data she had acquired from the Forerunner shield world. This could change the way that they thought about and approached Slipspace and interacted with it!

If only we had the ability to bring this data back to Reach. Who knows what we might be able to do with it?

–
–

“Captain, this is Specialist Maldini, we’ve restored power to this ship, and I’ve got technicians ripping data from it now.”

“Understood, Specialist. Standby, we’re sending in some experts to assist.”

Cutter looked out of the armored viewport at the much smaller ship that now had small white lights across the surface.

“Serina, tell Anders that she has authorization to go aboard the ship. And give me the status on our repairs.”

“Understood,” Serina’s hologram stood with her hands behind her back. “Teams Charlie Through Echo report repairs are going as expected, Alpha, Bravo, and Foxtrot are experiencing trouble with some of the sections that have breached seals. Shifting Teams Delta and Echo to support.”

“Captain,” Lieutenant Armstrong, the sensors officer called out. “I’m seeing activity from one of the planets in system.”

“What kind of activity?”

“It looks like some sort of shuttle or small ship launch,” he pointed out the pinpricks of light that had finally reached them from the surface of said planet. “Might be their reinforcements.”

“Captain, given their Doppler Shift, I project their ETA to be…. Running calculations… Approximately six days. Give or take twelve hours or so depending on if their thrust pattern changes.”

“Continue with the repairs, and tell Anders I need the information off of that ship. I want to know where we are, and who we’re dealing with.”

---

“Fascinating,” Anders floated around the bridge of the captured vessel as she shifted from console to console. “This ship is centuries old. And even if it’s only been maintained by scavengers it seems to be functional.”

“Clearly not well though,” a tech shrugged. “I mean, I saw the state of their reactor, and that thing was fried. We had to bring in one of our own and manufacture a couple of connection points to get it up and running again.”

“Regardless, that it has lasted for so long with as poor maintenance as it has, is a miracle,” Anders stopped at one specific station. “This has what we need,” she plugged a datapad into it, downloading all of the available data that was on the station to it.

“This needs to get to to the Captain,” Anders handed the datapad to the tech. “I’m going to continue going through these systems, something seems off about these mass readings.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the technician left the bridge, leaving Anders alone as she combed through data and information.

“Nothing ventured,” Anders muttered as she strapped herself into the astrogation chair and began perusing their star charts. Eventually finding a folder with calculations for whatever these people used for FTL travel. “Nothing gained.” She grinned, copying said equations to her personal drive. “Now, I’ve got you.”

Then she hit a button on the console by accident as she unstrapped herself, the power flickering for a minute before shutting down again.

“Fuck!” an angry yell reverberated through the ship. “That hurt!”

“Sorry!” Anders yelled back. “Everyone alright?”

She moved to where the yelling was coming from and grimaced at the two engineers who were slowly swearing up a storm.

“Whatever you did, you just overloaded the circuits we were in the middle of repairing. They weren’t even activated, we’ve had power shut down in this section since we started working.”

“Spirit of Fire, can you hear me? Captain Cutter, this is Professor Anders, do you read me? Serina, anyone?”

“Let’s get this fixed,” Anders rolled up her sleeves to assist. “Then we need to figure out why we can’t get in contact with the ship.”

The two engineering teams plus Anders went through the rest of the ship piece by piece, the sound of tools echoed through the ship as power conduits were diagnosed and repaired, and bulkheads were removed and patched or resealed before being secured back into place. They went over each system, each line until they only had two left.

“Engine room or bridge first?”

“Engine room,” the lead engineer replied. “I’d rather us make sure that everything’s working right here before we double-check the bridge.”

“Did we ever figure out how much power the old reactor was putting out?” Anders asked.

“Yeah. We didn’t have anything that lined up exactly, so we had to match the output as closely as we could. But ours is outputting just a bit more power than the original.”

“Let’s see if we can fine-tune that a bit more,” Anders accepted some tools as others began running checks on the lines running to the reactor.

–
–

“I think I know what happened,” Anders poured over the logs while the rest of the teams went over the computers and did rudimentary repairs.

“Care to enlighten the rest of us?”

“They were preparing for an emergency jump with whatever their FTL system was when their reactor shut down. When we plugged ours in, power began trickling into the FTL drive and when it was full it completed the jump that was programmed.”

“So all we need to do is figure out where we are, and how to get back to the other system.”

“Which shouldn’t be too hard given that the Astrogation system maintains logs of their jumps along with the calculations required.”

“Then it looks like we’ve got this figured out.”

---

“Captain! Burst of Cherenkov Radiation, the ship that Anders is on is gone.”

“Put us on Alert Status Bravo, and bring back all of the salvage teams. Serina, I want you to go through what was collected from that ship.”

“And what will you be doing, captain?”

“We’re going to go say hello to our new friends,” Cutter tapped on the distant light sources that were moving towards them. “I have a feeling they’ll be able to tell us a bit more about what just happened to our people.”

 

[MarkWarrior]

Author’s Note: I don’t normally do one of these at the beginning, but I figured it would be understandable in this case. I added a squadron of Longswords and Baselards to the Spirit of Fire’s compliment. It doesn’t make sense for them to have bombers, Pelicans, Condors, etc. But no real fighters or interceptors.


Chapter 3

Six days later…

“Enemy vessel is now within range. They’re launching some sort of fighters,” Serina observed.

“Sound battle stations,” Cutter ordered as he took a seat in his captain’s chair. “Launch Longswords and ready MAC guns.”

“Sounding battle stations, aye sir!” an officer’s hands flew across her controls before her voice echoed through the ship.

“General Quarters, All hands, report to your battle stations, this is not a drill. I repeat, all hands!”

Alarm klaxons began to sound while crew members began to rush around, each finding their place and preparing for combat.

“Longswords are launching now! They’re moving into an escort pattern and holding until they receive further orders.”

“Hail the other ships,” Cutter signaled for the shutters to close down and secure the bridge. “Let’s see if they want a fight, or if they’re willing to talk.”

“Sending handshake protocol across multiple channels,” Serina’s hands were clasped behind her back. “I’m not getting anything on standard COM frequencies. Wait, I’m getting a response from a civilian channel, routing it to the ship’s speakers now.”

“- Legatus Ronald James, cease movements, or we will fire upon you.”

“Legatus?” Cutter asked and then shook his head. “Never mind, we’ll get to that later. Open a channel on the same frequency. I’ve got some questions.”

“Opening channel to Roman time travelers, aye sir!”

“This is Captain James Cutter of the UNSC Spirit of Fire, you will stand down and slow your speed to match ours, failure to comply with basic instructions will be met with the appropriate level of force. We don’t want a fight, but we will finish one.”

“Message sent, Captain. I don’t think they liked our response.”

“Give them a warning shot,” Cutter ordered. “I want them to know that we can take them out at any time we please.”

“Ship is slowing down and turning to match momentum,” Serina reported. “There’s no response though.”

“Get our ODSTs ready,” Cutter stood up and checked his handgun. “We’re going to be asking some very pointed questions.”

---

“Professor, is there a reason we can’t go back to where the Spirit of Fire is?”

“I can’t get it to go back,” Anders sighed. “I’ve gotten the coordinates programmed and it still won’t do it.”

“Is the drive receiving power?” An engineer asked. “We might have fried something when we put in our reactor.”

“The reactor is responding properly, and according to the limited notes that were left behind, the K-F drive is working. Or is at least within functional parameters.”

“Maybe it’s something obvious that we’re missing,” the engineer floated over to another console.
“Something that’s taken for granted by these people.”

“Why would a ship have a solar sail?” Another engineer asked. “That’s the territory of Science Fiction. And, it’s horribly inefficient compared to a fusion reactor. I mean, you'd have to sit for days, or even weeks before you’d get any sort of charge.”

“Well, deploy it,” the other one shrugged. “I mean, it’s not like we’re losing anything by trying at this point.”

With the press of a button, the large sail unfolded, beginning to spread out into an circular pattern in ‘front’ of the ship.

“Huh,” Anders looked at the terminal for the K-F Drive. “I’m seeing a new program here. It looks like their FTL method powers up using these solar sails.”

“You’ve got to be joking,” the engineer floated over to look over her shoulder. “Well, damn. I never expected that technology to work.”

“It is a bit odd, isn’t it,” Anders began typing on the keyboard, her fingers flying across the keys as she analyzed exactly what the sail was doing. “There must be a reason to use something so slow to charge their FTL.”

“Something to figure out later,” Specialist Maldini shrugged. “For now, let’s stick with what works. We’ve got to get back to the Spirit of Fire anyway.”

–
–

“Why would people ever do this?” Maldini sighed as she sagged into a seat on one of the working carousel sections of this ship. “I’d rather have to be cryofrozen and woken back up every week than sit around before going anywhere.”

“You’re telling me,” another engineer sipped at a cup of coffee. “At least on The Spirit there’s always something to do. We finished up the repairs and fixes here days ago.”

“I mean, we could always see if there’s anything we can improve on,” Maldini shrugged. “I mean, I’m sure there’s something we could figure out.”

“We’re not touching a damned thing until we’re back with the Spirit,” the other engineer glared. “I’m not getting stuck out here and Lost in Space.”

“Alright,” Maldini grinned. “So, bets on where we ended up.”

“The future,” one engineer shrugged. “I mean, it’s a bit odd, but I think that’s where we ended up.”

“Some sort of alternate Timeline where the Romans made it to space,” Maldina laid a cred stick on the table. “That’s my bet.”

“Neither,” the last engineer set his bet on the table. “We’re in something crazier than both. I don’t know what, where, or when yet, but it’s crazier.”

---

“It’s an egg,” an ODST muttered. “It’s a giant fucking egg. And it’s ugly too. Who designs a ship that looks like that?”

“These guys apparently,” the squad leader shrugged as he looked over their briefing material. “The Captain wants us on standby if things go wrong. Red Team’ll be there as the primary escorts for the captain. But if things go hot, we’re to push in and take over the ship, copy?”

“Yeah Sarge, we hear you,” the squad’s tech said as he opened up his datapad and began sifting through audio and video feeds before settling on the one that was showing the docking bay where Captain Cutter and Red Team were waiting. “Now hush, I want to hear what’s going on.”

The video feed showed the airlock doors sliding open and a small group of people in what looked like modernized Roman battle armor and massive rifles stepped through, flanking a uniformed officer with a host of medals and ribbons on his chest.

The over-the-top nature of the ‘Roman’s’ uniforms and the flashy armor was sharply contrasted by the UNSC forces, with the matte gray of Cutter’s Uniform and utilitarian design of the Spartans Mjolnir standing out among the glitter of the other human.

“Who the fuck are you?” The Legatus spat. “You’re intruding on Marian Hegemony space.”

“Captain James Cutter, United Nations Space Corps,” Cutter said evenly. “Now, I want to know exactly what happened to my people, or I seize your ship and we find out the hard way.”

“Your people!” the Legatus roared. “You attacked my ship, I should blow you out of the void for such blatant disregard for sovereign territory.”

“Based on our star charts, no one owns this system,” Cutter crossed his arms. “Serina, you said this was explored by probes?”

“Yes, captain,” her smooth voice replied. “All records indicate that this system was designated as ‘unfit’ for colonization by the early probes.”

As the conversation drifted off into silence, Serina’s voice sounded in the Captain’s earpiece.

“Captain, burst of Cherenkov radiation, the ship that Anders was on is back. They’re reporting no casualties.”

“Do you have access to their systems yet?” Jerome asked Serina.

“Negative,” the AI replied. “I would need some sort of gateway into their ship.”

“I would like to request access to your logs,” Cutter finally spoke. “We find ourselves in unfamiliar space, and would like to understand what exactly is going on.”

“Are you going to return the ship that you stole from us?”

“Given they were keeping slaves on board?” Cutter raised an eyebrow. “I think that we’ll be keeping it.”

The Legatus made a short gesture with his arm, and his escorts raised their rifles as a trio of Spartans blurred into motion. Their rapid, sharp movements disabling the group in short order.

“That’s our queue,” the ODST’s squad leader dropped his helmet back on his head and lead his squad into the airlock.

“Captain, we’re breaching!”

“Godspeed, Sergeant,” Cutter nodded. “Red Team, secure the prisoners and follow them in,” he jerked his head at where the ODSTs were cycling through the airlock. “I have a feeling that they’re going to need the backup.”

“Yes, sir!” Jerome, Alice, and Douglas used flex cuffs to secure the arms and legs of the roman soldiers as Marines kicked their weapons away and began dragging the Legatus and his bodyguards to the brig.

“You think if I request it I can get gold armor?” a marine snarked as he grabbed the Legatus and pulled him up. “Maybe a rifle like that one?” He gestured to the gold decorations that outlined portions of one of the rifles.

“Sure, if you want to change your name to Target, I’m sure none of us would complain!” his battle buddy laughed. “I’ll even get the Lieutenant to sign off on it!”

“On second thought, maybe we just march some of these guys in front of us on our next op. You think the Covenant will shoot them first, or last?”

At that question, the conversation died down and the trip to the brig grew somber as the thought of the Covenant following them began to loom in the Marine’s minds.

“I really hope that they didn’t follow us,” one Marine whispered.

“If they did, we’ll just have to fight them off like we did on Harvest.”

“We can’t afford another Harvest. You know that.”

“Stow the chatter!” a noncom barked. “Secure these prisoners and get ready. We may have to deploy soon.”

“Yessir!”

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 4

“Captain, their form of FTL is incredible,” Anders went from place to place on the observation deck that doubled as her lab. “I have to take readings and conduct more studies. This could be a breakthrough into Slipspace that we haven’t seen the likes of since Shaw and Fujikawa…”

“Professor,” Cutter stepped in her path and forced her to slow down. “We’re currently dealing with a human faction that tried to shoot first and ask questions later. We’ll leave some engineers to study and take detailed notes on that ship, but the Spirit of Fire is going to be heading to the planet. And I need you to help us figure out exactly where we are and what’s going on.”

Cutter’s eyes softened a bit.

“I know that you want to investigate the new discoveries, but right now, it’s not about what we want, but what we need. If we want to ever get home, it’ll start down there.”

“Understood, Captain,” Anders paused. “If I may, what is the plan once we’ve made landfall?”

“That depends on them. Right now, it looks like we’re dealing with some sort of Roman offshoots. We’re holding interrogations now, but it’s going to take some time. Hopefully, we don’t have to engage in a war, but if it comes to it…”

“Then we’ll do what we have to,” Anders nodded. “I’ll start going through the data I gathered from that ship. Maybe there’ll be something there that can help.”

“Serina’s currently going through their ship’s databanks, we’ll let you know if anything relevant is in there.”

–
–

“Legatus, Ronald James” Cutter pulled out a chair, the screech of the metal grinding against the other man’s ears.“I have questions, and you have answers.”

“You’ll get nothing from me,” the man snarled, looking much smaller in his gray jumpsuit than he did in the ornate armor and clothing he’d worn before.

“I just want to know where we are,” Cutter sat down calmly in the chair across from the secured prisoner, and a pair of ODSTs stood as guards. “I want the name of the planet and the system. That’s it. We’re not going to torture you, we’re not going to do anything. In fact, the only thing we’re going to do if you don’t answer our questions is put you in solitary. If you’re not willing to speak, then we’ll find one of the people that will. There were seventy-five people across both ships. Someone’s going to talk.”

The captain then pulled out a datapad and began working, the ODSTs standing silently as the room grew eerily quiet.

The silence grew as time went by, with the only thing present to tell the Legatus how much time had gone by being his own heartbeat that pounded in his ears.

But the Captain continued working, and the soldiers remained silent. Had it been minutes? Or Hours? Legatus Ronald had no idea. Time seemed to fluctuate between fast and slow, and the tapping of the Captain’s fingers against the datapad grew louder within the room with every heartbeat.

“You are in the Marian Hegemony,” Ronald finally spoke. “We are a small nation that controls a small handful of planets. Most of them are agricultural worlds, with the capital, Alphard, being the main manufacturing center. Alphard is the planet and system that we’re in currently. Gaius O’Reilly is our Imperator, he will be the one to speak with regarding anything else. I am merely a Legatus and do not have anything else to share with you. I would, however, seek to ransom my Stinger from you. It has been in my family for generations. I will give you all of the land that I possess in order to reclaim it.”

“Son,” Cutter stood up. “Your ‘Stinger’ is now property of the United Nations Space Corps. So I wouldn’t expect to be getting it back. Take him back to his cell,” the Captain left the room. “Serina, anything to report?”

“I have no information on a system known as ‘Alphard’ nor do I have anything on this ‘Marian Hegemony’. Serina replied. “I suspect there is something unusual going on here.”

“I guess we’ll find out.”

---

“This is fascinating,” Anders climbed into the cockpit of one of the two robots that were in the cargo bay of the egg-shaped ship. “The closest thing we have to this is the Cyclops, and that’s basically a powered exoskeleton with a battery pack and a bunch of armor strapped on. The Electronics package is admittedly a bit behind our own, but it has to be if you’re aiming for the sheer level of ruggedization that you see here.”

“So they build things to last,” Jerome-092 shrugged. “So does the UNSC.”

“Not to the same degree,” Anders poked her head out. “A lot of the components in here have date stamps from the year 2765. And given that their calendars say that it's the year 2990. There’s a lot of variation there.”

“So these parts are still working two hundred years later?” Alice-130 asked. “I find that a little hard to believe.”

“Well, there’s definitely some damage that hasn’t been repaired, and the maintenance, (what little of it there is) has been lacking, but the critical components are still working as intended. If they build everything to this level, then we’re up against a foe that is going to be hard to beat.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it.” Douglas snarked. “I haven't seen anything to be impressed by aside from these robots. Everything else on this ship and the other one looks like it’s being held together by EB Green and a staple gun.”

“Well, according to what we’ve seen so far, that might be far more accurate than you might think,” Anders shrugged and climbed out of the cockpit. “That said, I wouldn’t discount their weapons. This ‘Stinger’ apparently possesses two lasers that would have firepower just shy of the laser you’ve been prototyping.”

“So we’ll have to prepare our forces for potential engagement with these things,” Jerome nodded. “I’ll put together a brief and send it to the Captain. I suspect it’ll be similar to engaging a Locust.”

“They don’t have shields, but they do have ablative armor,” Anders dropped down onto the gantry. “I don’t have any idea how effective it is though without further testing.”

“Well, we’ve got a few days before we make landfall, so if you’re going to test it, now’s the time.”

---

Date: January 22, 2532/January 22, 2990
Location: Alphard, Marian Hegemony


“Captain, we’re being hailed by someone claiming to be an Imperator.”

“Patch it through,” Cutter took his seat.

“I am Gaius O’Reilly, leader of the Marin Hegemony. To what do I owe the honor of having someone of your prestige pay our humble kingdom a visit?”

“This is Captain Cutter of the United Nations Space Command ship Spirit of Fire. I invite you to come aboard and we can have a few discussions about how to move forward from here.”

“I would gladly host you here,” Gaius replied. “But I fear it would be ill-received.”

“No, I’m returning your ship. You’ll use it to come back and board so that we can meet face to face.”

“Of course,” Gaius paused. “Am I to presume that you will allow me to bring my guards?”

“Two guards may accompany you onto the Spirit of Fire. Your ship has already been stripped of all weapons and war material that was on board. Comply, and I’m sure we can see to it that there are no further problems.”

“Understood. I will await the ship and will be prepared for negotiations.”

With that last statement, the communication shut down, and the Spirit of Fire’s bridge grew quiet after that statement.

“Captain, shall I prepare a list for your upcoming conversations?” Serina’s avatar winked into existence.

“We’ll work on something, Serina, get me Anders and Red Team, I want them along with the Bridge crew to meet me in Briefing room ten,” Cutter ordered, standing up from his command chair.. “This isn’t the Covenant we’re dealing with, I’m sure that we can find some common ground.”

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 5

"Imperator," Senator Marcus Jackson bowed courteously to Gaius O'Reilly. "The Senate has sent me to act as their representative for the discussion with the Captain of the Warship in orbit. What are your aims for the talks?"

"To avoid destruction," the Imperator turned around. "We lack the forces necessary to fight a battle should it come to that. And if we should offend them? They can simply decide to destroy us and build on top of the shattered remnants of the Hegemony."

"What do you require of the Senate?" Marcus stood still. "I will see to it that you have the full support of the government."

"You and I, we are not so ignorant of what the rest of the Inner Sphere thinks of us," Gaius said after a brief pause. "I think that we will have to adapt our way of life."

"I will see to it that you are granted the authority to negotiate what is necessary," the Senator inclined his head. "Nations rise and fall. Yet it is the people that make up the nation, not the government itself. If we should change to live, then so it shall be. I may not speak for the rest of the Senate in my opinion on this, but I am a pragmatist. I do not value my servants, slaves, or my property over the lives of myself and my family. Do what you must to ensure our survival in the eyes of this Warship captain, and I will ensure that the Senate complies," Marcus smiled grimly. "Regardless of what the cost may be."

As the two men continued to discuss the plans for the negotiations, an old and battered Union began its descent onto cleared field that had been used for the task over the last few decades, the fusion torches lighting up the sky as the small bits of grass that had grown up were vaporized as the massive ship settled in and came to a stop.

"Senator," Gaius clasped arms with Marcus. "I will return with honor and the negotiations completed, or not at all."

"Imperator," Marcus replied. "It will be as you say."

---

"Commander, you have the bridge," Cutter and the current bridge team began to rotate out with Commander Theo Figueroa and the rest of the 'night' shift. "Let me know when they take off from the planet."

"Yes sir," the other man nodded. "We've got things handled here."

"Serina, I want a report of all of the planet's communications that we've intercepted ready for when I wake up. I want to know what they're saying to each other."

"Already working on it, Captain," The AI appeared on her pedestal. "I've been tapped into their networks since we arrived in orbit."

"Good, keep me posted."

Cutter then left the bridge and headed down the hall to his quarters, the door sliding open for him to enter.

With a soft groan, he eased himself down into the chair at his small desk, his hands removing the uniform jacket before setting it aside, neatly folder on a corner of the desk. His cap was then set on top of the uniform jacket. Closing his eyes for a second, James let out a heavy sigh, a tension leaving him as he reached out and picked up a picture frame.

His lingered on the face of his daughter and his wife, his face and eyes softening as he drifted through memories of happier times.

"At least they're safe on Reach," Cutter set the frame back down before he opened a drawer on his desk, a fine bottle that had been gifted to him by his grandfather glinting in the artificial light as he withdrew it and a small glass.

Uncorking the bottle, he poured a single finger of the liquor out before sealing it again and setting it back into the drawer.

"We're going to make it home," Cutter swore and tilted back the drink, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat for a moment.

Setting the glass on his desk, he stood up and slid the chair under his desk. Then he stepped over to the lone bed and pulled the sheets and blanket away before settling in and closing his eyes. Home would have to wait a little longer.

–
–

"Captain, the dropship has launched," Cutter's eyes snapped open as Serina's dry voice woke him.

"ETA?" he asked as he got out of bed and remade it back to the perfection that it had been before.

"Current projection puts it at two hours before it reaches our point in high orbit."

"And the report that I asked for?"

"All signals have been intercepted, decrypted, and translated for the report that is already waiting at your terminal," Serina replied. "And Anders has forwarded a message to meet with her."

"Summarize it for me," Cutter pulled a fresh uniform out and began dressing himself, a small mirror on the door of the wardrobe ensuring that everything was straight and perfect. "And tell her that I'll met with her after I've handled the shift rotation."

"It seems that our guests were right, this world is mainly agricultural, and aside from a small handful of transmissions to a local military base or frequencies for radio stations, there was nothing to examine. What little there was, indicated that there was a governmental meeting held prior to the dropship's liftoff. But unfortunately, the details of said meeting were not transmitted."

Serina paused as if looking up something else before her voice began speaking again.

"I also have the full details of their governmental structure and how they are sustained."

The disdain was evident in the AI's voice.

"Explain, Serina."

"They are little better than pirates. The few worlds that are central to them are held only by those who raid and then bring back what is needed to sustain their economy."

"Then it looks like I'll have my work cut out for me. It wouldn't be the first time I've had to deal with insurrectionists and people like them."

Grabbing his cap off of the desk, Cutter fixed it into place before buckling his pistol holster into place, the M6D sliding into its proper place with a soft 'Click'

"I'll look over the report more in depth once I reach the bridge," Cutter told the AI. "Until then, start making notes on what we need to fully repair the Spirit as well as what supplies we need to keep the crew fed."

He then waved his hand over the sensor, the door's lock flickering from red to green before sliding open and revealing the hallway to the bridge.

"Captain on deck!" Commander Figueroa barked as he and the night crew snapped to attention.

"At ease," Captain Cutter ordered. "Lieutenant Armstrong, continue monitoring sensors. Ensign Blake, launch our fighters, I want Longswords to escort them in, with the rest ready for intercept."

"Aye sir!" the two bridge officers began to do as ordered.

"Permission to enter the bridge?" a gruff voice asked.

"Granted, Senior Chief," Cutter glanced at the Spartan as he stood over the holotable, the shimmering glow showing a representation of the 'egg' that was approaching the Spirit of Fire's position. "Have you been briefed by the Professor yet?"

"Negative," Jerome shook his head. "She hasn't left her lab since you went off shift."

"Then let's go see exactly what she has for us."

---

"Captain, you're not going to believe what I've just discovered," Anders turned around, a datapad in hand and deep bags underneath her eyes.

"Professor, we've done quite a lot that's unbelievable over the last week."

"We're not in UNSC space anymore," Anders blurted out.

"Last I checked, we're still in the realm of the Inner Colonies," Cutter raised an eyebrow. "At least according to the start charts."

"How much do you know about Slipspace theory?" Anders asked after a few seconds of staring, the lack of sleep clearly affecting her ability to process.

"I'm a Captain in the UNSC Navy," Cutter replied, his tone hardening. "I've plotted more than my fair share of jumps. Now get to the point, Professor."

"Somehow when we left that odd slipspace internal world we changed dimensions," Anders finally shrugged. "That's the only way I can reconcile it. I've gone over everything, the history that was stored on their databanks, the date, the construction of their ships. If we were just in the future, then we would have seen some sort of mention of the Covenant somewhere. You don't simply write off a genocide like that. But there's nothing, no mention of it at all."

"Serina, can you confirm?" Cutter asked.

"Without more information I can't give a definitive answer," Serina replied. "But based off of what I have, I calculate that there's a… Sixty percent probability that she is correct."

Cutter froze for a minute, everything within him wanting to stop and focus on the information that he'd just been told. But instead, he shoved it to the side. There would be time to handle that later. right now, his ship, his crew. They were what mattered right now in this moment.

"Get some rest, Anders," Cutter rested his hand on her shoulder. "Don't burn yourself out over this right now. I need your mind sharp."

"Right," Anders blew a stray hair out of her face. "I'll do that."

"Senior Chief," Cutter looked at Jerome. "Make sure that she gets to bed. I'm going to go prepare to handle some Romans."

Author's Note: This Chapter fought me every step of the way. So expect some revisions. If something looks awful or out of place, let me know and I'll try to tweak or fix it.

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 6

"I will not wear the gold," Gaius informed his servant. "I will wear the robes of my station, but I will not be adorned with the gaze of opulence."

"I understand, Imperator," the Servant helped the current head of the Marian Hegemony into the official robes, the pure white of his draped Toga intermixed with a purple sash and an olive branch crown upon his brow. A simple Bronze brooch with an image of a Marian soldier in his armor held the sash together on his right shoulder.

Turning, he left the guest quarters aboard the dropship and nodded at the two Praetorians that stood beside him, their practical bronze and red colored armor signifying their status as the Elites of the Marian Hegemony Armed Forces.

"Fredrich, Nathan, you are to remain calm at all times. At no turn will you show hostility to these men and women. Neither my father nor I have heard of any Warships among the Inner Sphere or Periphery for the last hundred years. But what we know tells me that should we anger these people, they may rain down the very heavens upon us, and we would be left with nothing but dust and ash."

"If it is as you say, then we shall remain silent," the Praetorians replied. "But should they move against you, then we will act, for war is what we have prepared for."


–
–

The trio stood at the airlock and waited for the channel between the two ships to finish pressurizing, the red light flickering into a solid green as it finalized the processes.

The Imperator and his guards walked across the threshold and entered the Spirit of Fire. The simplistic nature of the ship and the utilitarian build almost seemed to mimic or even improve upon the same sort of aesthetic that was seen in the common Union and Danais that were found throughout the Inner Sphere and Periphery.

"Captain Cutter," Gaius greeted and gave a small bow to show respect. "It is a pleasure to meet you in person. Shall we dispense with guards and begin our discussions?"

"No," Cutter set his face firmly. "Anything that I would say to you, I would also tell the men and women under my command. We hold the discussions here."

"What is it you require to leave me and my nation, my people, in peace," Gaius asked, his arms spread as if surrendering. "Ask whatever it is that you desire, and if it is within my power. Then I will see that it is granted."


"Here is what is going to happen," Cutter's steely blue gaze matched and then overpowered that of the Imperator's. "First, you're going to find an empty lot for me and my people. There doesn't need to be anyone else there, it can even be barren. Secondly, your airspace. That belongs to us now. The void as well. Any pirates or people who work with them will be destroyed before they even reach orbit. Third, your government is based on that of the Roman Republic, yes? Then I'm purchasing the freedom of your slaves. All of them. Pursuant to UEG legal code 70.7132 slavery has been outlawed, and all colonies are to follow suit. Regardless of cultural or current local governmental structures, we are required by law to purge the institution. And if there are any signs of slavery again. We step in and make sure that it's ended. Permanently."

Cutter's gaze seemed to soften after he had spoken, and after a moment continued.

"Anything else that we need we'll do honest trade for on an agreed-upon valuation of said goods or services."

Gaius allowed himself to sigh in relief within his mind as he realized that these people didn't want to destroy them utterly. There was a chance to remain a nation. And potentially move past their roots in piracy if he played his cards right. His father had always talked about a greater future. And this could be the path forward.

"I can tentatively agree to those demands," Gaius finally spoke after spending time considering everything. "But parts of it will require me to speak to the Senate. And after they have ratified it, it will take time for the message to spread throughout the remainder of the realm. We have no HPG complexes after all."

He then recalled one of the key discussion points that had in mind from the beginning.

"However, I must ask for the return of our jumpship. They are not only rare in the Periphery nations such as ours. But they are irreplaceable, and the trade and value that they bring are intrinsic to the survival of any periphery nation. Including our own.

"No," Cutter replied. "We can discuss your people catching rides for free to local systems or within the area. But right now," Cutter's eyes hardened once again. "It belongs to the United Nations Space Corps."

---

"I think there is an old quote from the British Empire that sums up these terms," Senator Jackson looked through the notes that Gaius had taken.

"Oh?" Gaius raised an eyebrow. "There are many that could sum up our situation. Which one are you thinking of?"

"This burning of widows is your custom; prepare the funeral pile. But my nation has also a custom. When men burn women alive we hang them, and confiscate all their property. My carpenters shall therefore erect gibbets on which to hang all concerned when the widow is consumed," Jackson recited with his eyes closed. "That is what the terms regarding slavery appear as. Everything else is something that we may convince the Senate to ratify. But we will have our work cut out for us if we are to take away the other Elite's wealth."

"I agree," Gaius sat down at a nearby table. "Which is why I asked for us to be given time to bring this before the Senate."

"May we be successful in our endeavors," Jackson clasped arms with the Imperator. "I shall retire to my villa and contemplate how to best approach this task ahead of us."

"I shall remain here, I have many details to work out if we are to survive and potentially thrive as a a nation. We live in interesting times. May we succeed instead of perish."

---

"Come in," Cutter called out as a knock resounded on the entrance to his quarters.

The door slid open, revealing a now rested and clean Professor Ellen Anders.

"Take a seat," Cutter gestured towards the only other chair in the small room. "How're you holding up?"

"I've had better days," Ellen sighed. "Even with all of the excitement and distractions of the past few weeks I still keep finding myself drawn back to what happened."

She glanced down, an air of melancholy surrounded her stature and being.

"We could have found another way. We should have found another way. Then maybe he and the others would still be alive."

Cutter's gaze filled with sympathy as he leaned down and opened the lower left drawer on his desk, the prized bottle of aged scotch resting on the surface as he poured a few fingers into each glass.

"I'm not going to tell you to never have the question of 'what-if?'" James smiled sadly. "It's not a bad thing to look back on the past and see what mistakes we made so that we can push forward to do better in the future. The difference is in what we do after the reflection. If looking back turns into living in the past then we've gone too far. Professor, Sergeant Forge, and everyone who gave their lives did so for a purpose. They were looking beyond themselves at what the future would be like. And in the end, they made their decisions. To deny them that, would be to act as if everything they did in both life and death were meaningless. I hold responsibility for everyone among my crew. And if I had a choice, I would never put any of you in harm's way. But beyond my responsibility of being Captain of the Spirit of Fire and her crew. Is my responsibility to Humanity as a whole. Even if no one ever learns of what we did. We accomplished the impossible. And may have very well changed the course of the war. So honor their sacrifice. And find ways to avoid making the same sacrifices in the future. That's all we can ever do."

Anders simply picked up her glass and swirled the scotch within as she considered everything.

After a few moments of silence, Anders simply raised her glass in a toast.

"To friends. May they never be forgotten."

"To Sergeant Forge. The toughest son of a bitch I've ever known," Cutter clinked his glass before they both downed the scotch.

Anders coughed as she set the glass down, covering her mouth for a moment.

"Thanks, Captain."

"You're a member of my crew," Cutter replied. "My door is always open."

Anders stood up, set the chair back into its place, and stood at the door, a few tears trickling down her face before she took a deep breath, wiped them away, and palmed the door controls. The door slid open and revealed a woman whose resolve had been strengthened. Someone who now had a renewed sense of purpose.

"Serina," Anders called out as the door slid shut behind her.

"Yes, professor?"

"Set aside some subroutines to help out in my lab. We have some work to do."


Author's Note: I rewrote some sections of Chapter 5. It should be a bit better now.

 

[MarkWarrior]

Chapter 7

They have established a foothold in our nation, and I do not believe we will ever remain as we once were.

– Quote attributed to Senator (Later Imperator) Marcus Jackson.



“Mrs. Lisa Kitazaki, was it?” A soldier jotted down notes. “I’m Lieutenant Michael Hatsfield, and we’d like to work out a deal with you.

“Aye, y’all got the right folk,” the woman replied. “What can we do ya for?”

“We’d like to negotiate a contract for grain and cattle,” the Lieutenant smiled.

“I’d love to have the business, but as you can tell,” the woman gestured towards the fields and small herd of cattle she possessed. “I ain’t able to do much more than feed what I got. If this drought continues, we’re liable to fall short on taxes this year.”

“We can assist with that,” Hatsfield replied. “We have stores of fertilizer and can dig deep enough to ensure you have the water to sustain your crops. We need someone more familiar with the soil and area to start farming. We’d do it ourselves, but we’ll have to take the time to set up our base. I’m among a few people negotiating with various local farms and farmers as we speak.”

Lisa paused in thought and looked out over her dying fields. She didn’t have the energy to care for everything, not since Scott had died last year, and her children were just old enough to help with a few farm chores, not everything.

“If you can find me some help, I’ll treat you right and ensure you’ve all the food y’all need.”

“I’ve got a contract right here, ma’am,” the Lieutenant pulled a single sheet of paper from a briefcase. “We tried to keep things as simple as we could.”

“If you can keep to yer bargains, then you’ve just made a friend of me and mine for generations,” Lisa pushed her hand out and shook the man’s hand. “Now, let me go dig a pen outta my purse somewhere.”

---

“Why would we cave to their demands?” Senator Arnold Pevenmeyer growled as his gold-edged purple tunic glittered in the artificial light. “What do we gain from submitting to another nation?”

“Our lives,” Senator Marcus Jackson replied. “And our nation surviving another day. Rome itself did not fall in a day. But if we make the wrong move here, we might.”

“And you would have us bend the knee? You are craven, a coward!”

“I am no coward,” Marcus stated firmly. “I have served our Republic through all of my years. First as a part of the Legion, then as a citizen, and finally, as a Senator. But I can see the future, and I know history. If we do not change, we will be eradicated. No nation survives without change. Why should ours be any different? We will change even if we do not do as this UNSC has demanded. They have established a foothold in our nation, and I do not believe we will ever remain as we once were.”

Several sitting senators nodded in agreement while the ones that sided with Pavenmeyer scoffed angrily.

“Enough!” an old man stood up. “We have heard this debate at length. Now we will vote and see what may become of our nation.”

The Senators each filled out the ballots and slid them into a wooden box in the room’s center, and the Imperator sat in his chair close by.

“Have all cast their votes?” Gaius O’Reilly asked.

“All but those who abstained,” the old man answered.

“Then I shall count, and we shall see what our course may be.”

---

“Captain, all Herons have deployed the Firebases,” Serina informed Cutter as he stepped onto the bridge and adjusted his hat. “Seabees are constructing the outer perimeter now, and the selected officers are negotiating with local farmers and ranchers.”

“Good to hear, Serina,” Cutter took a seat. “Start rotating shifts for R&R below once we finish offloading supplies. Then, pull us back up into high orbit. We’re going to have to start working on repairs. We’ll send out a Condor or two to scout the local asteroid belts. We might need the resources for the repairs.”

“Spinning up Condors,” Serina replied. “Shifting subroutines to assist human resources with shift rotations now. Anything else, Captain?”

“Any word from our ‘friends’ in the government?”

“Nothing yet, Captain. There is quite a bit of chatter, but it’s all about our people and the negotiations with farmers.”
“Keep me posted,” the Captain retrieved a datapad and began doing the work that all soldiers hated paperwork.

–
–

“McHenry! Who taught you how to wire a goddamned electrical panel?”
“My father?” a confused Seabee replied. “What seems to be the problem, Chief?”

“Come here and take a look at this.”

The Seaman shrugged and ensured everything was correctly labeled before closing what he was working on and following the noncom.

“Do you see the problem here?” The Chief opened the panel, revealing the neat wires and labels all in their proper place.

“No, Chief, everything looks how it’s supposed to.”

“Proper code says that each wire is to be color-coded and labeled.”

“That’s what I did?” McHenry asked.

“Seaman, all of these wires are gray and black. This one,” the Chief’s hand lingered on a clearly labeled wire. “Is supposed to be yellow. Instead, it’s the same gray as the green and orange.”

The noncom sighed.

“It’s some of the best-damned wirings I’ve ever seen, son. But you didn’t do it up to code.”

“Sorry, Chief,” McHenry stammered. “I’m colorblind. Got them a bit mixed up.”

“I’ve got two options here,” Chief Petty Officer Martin Hererra took off his cloth cap and ran his fingers through his gray hair. “I can pull you off of electrical work and into something else. Or, I can get you a Seaman Apprentice to sort out the color issue. Both options will take time because even if the work’s impeccable, I’ve got to follow the regs on this for the other poor chaps who’ll have to work on it. So, if you’re willing to accept some help, I can have someone with you when you rip this out and redo it. And I’d hate to lose you to the metalworkers.”

“Do we really gotta tear it all out, Chief? I mean, I labeled it properly.”

“We color code it for a reason,” the Chief explained. “Labels can wear off, but as long as you can identify the proper colors, you can figure things out.”

McHenry sighed as he looked at the panel and the other three he’d wired up that day.

“Find me the apprentice,” he stated. “Might as well get this done now.”

“Good man,” The Chief grinned. “I’ll find someone who can keep up with your work ethic.”

“Thanks, Chief. Sorry, I fucked it up.”

“If you’d been an asshole about it, I’d have just made you rip it all out and spend the whole night rewiring them,” Chief Hererra shrugged. “Good Seabees are all around. I don’t mind losing an electrician if he’s arrogant. Now get to work. Remember to knock it off at hour ten. The Captain’s strict about shift rotations.”

“Aye Chief!”

The electrician sighed and began working and pulling the wiring out, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as he grabbed a cigar from a cargo pocket.

“Fucking colorblind ass,” he cussed himself out. “I knew something was off.”

But still, the work had to be finished, and if he made a mistake, it was his responsibility to deal with the consequences, for better or worse.



Author’s Note: The Electrical wiring thing is based on a true story from a Seabee friend I made. The only difference is that the buddy didn’t get an assistant to help sort out the colors. He just got shifted to guard duty.