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Another ONI Black File: Halo – We Got There First: Part 8
Posted By: Arthur Wellesly<arthur_wellesly@hotmail.com>
Date: 29 August 2003, 3:40 PM
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0300 Hours, September 24, 2525 (Military Calendar)/
Alpha Base - Command Tent
Captain Griffin had received the transmission from Kate Savage saying the ship was being evacuated, and when he asked why he had gotten no answer. It wasn't long before he saw one or two escape pods glowing red above Alpha base. He sent a group of Marines in the M25 HRVs to pick up the men and women in a nearby crash site, but mostly it had been a slow rescue of Pelicans shuttling back and forth from across the ring's 30,000 kilometer circumference.
The evacuation from the Silent Night had been anything but smooth. There were many crewmen who had broken limbs, two men even broke their backs, but nevertheless there had been no fatalities. However, it did take almost half a day to rescue the scattered and stranded survivors, and it wasn't until early morning that the entire crew of the Silent Night's had been brought to Alpha Base.
As more and more people arrived at the Marine fort details of the reason for the sudden evacuation gradually emerged. Many had crazy tales of robots, of futile last stands and of the ship self-destructing. Griffin refused to believe any of it until the senior officers of the Silent Night met with him, though he could think of no explanation for why all these men and women would lie or somehow be mistaken.
At last, at 0300 hours, the ship's senior officers met with the Marine commanding officers. They convened at the Command Tent near the back of the base. First Mate Gary Brown was present, as well as Kate Savage, Karen Caladon, and Peter Smith. The Marines officers present were Captain Tom Griffin, Captain James Baxter, and Lieutenant Robert Hill. Joining the men and women at this meeting was Vulcan, his iridescent figure, smaller than it was on the Silent Night illuminating the dark tent with a flickering, eerie glow.
Captain Griffin, now the officer in command of all humans on the ring, rose to begin the meeting once everyone else was settled in their makeshift chairs. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began slowly, "we are gathered here to discuss the events leading up to the predicament which has brought us all here together on the ring. I have heard differing rumors as to these events and have told my men to disregard them. I wish to hear the official story from the ship's senior officers. Mr. Brown, why don't you begin?" It sounded like a request but Brown acknowledged it as though it were an order.
Brown stood up. He began to relate the details of everything that had happened aboard their ship. He began steadily enough, speaking quickly but distinctly, but when he got to the part about Young's death, his voice quivered momentarily and the bridge officers all lowered their heads. None had particularly like their Captain, but they had all respected her and had grieved for her sacrifice, even though they did not fully understand it.
Brown was over very quickly. Captain Griffin was thoroughly surprised at all this. At first he didn't know what to say, but he managed a short question. "Do you wish to add anything else?" he asked, mistaking Brown's brief account of the tragedy for his obvious daze or equally evident exhaustion.
"Things happened really fast aboard the ship," he explained. "I left no detail out."
Griffin just nodded for a moment at nothing in particular, then suddenly snapped back in his chair and scratched his head in anger. "So we're trapped on this goddamn ring with no hope of the UNSC coming for us?"
Lieutenant Savage nodded. "The evacuation of the ship was very sudden and the Captain told us to bring only what we must. We were not even able to salvage the gamma antennae, for all the good it would have done us. But that does mean we can no longer contact home."
The tent was silent for a moment, everyone grieving their sorry situation. No one knew quite what to say until Commander Caladon at last broke the silence. "What I want to know is why did the captain blow the ship? Why didn't we just evacuate and leave the ship for those bloody robots? Surely a couple of floating machines wasn't worth her life."
Vulcan replied first, which was appropriate for he alone had the answer. "When the robots made it to engineering, they did not proceed to blow the core using their beam, however the were reckless in carving out the ship's hull. A ship with that many holes in it can't go into slipspace - when they reentered normal space, the hull would crack. So clearly they did not want the ship. And why care if you sacrifice some of the robots? It's not like they're people.
"Unless," he continued, "each one of them is valuable. Obviously whoever made them isn't here anymore to replace them and they must have some sort of function. By destroying the Silent Night the captain must have hurt them badly." He shook his head sadly. "She understood that."
"But why send so many?" Captain Baxter asked. "Surely if they are so important then the thought of the ship destroying them all would have crossed their minds."
"They probably did," Vulcan conceded, "but they figured they could get to the bridge and stop it from self-destructing. But several groups of crewmen plus the Captain herself stayed to slow them down, ruining their plans and destroying them all."
"They underestimated our resolve," Griffin growled.
"What are your plans for us now, Captain?" Brown asked.
"Well, right now I'm going to recall all Marines to the base, then I'll have to expand this fort's perimeters to house our extra guests. I'm sure you're all tired," Griffin said generously, "so you may now return to your tents and get some sleep. I will handle all matters on the surface from here on out."
Gary Brown nodded his assent. On the Silent Night, Griffin answered to Brown, but with only basic combat training and little knowledge of battlefield tactics, it went without saying that Griffin was in charge. Brown also took the subtle hint he was dismissed without the Captain actually saying so. Griffin wanted to spare the First Mate any embarrassment by being ordered by on officer technically lower in rank.
Once the ship's officers had all left the tent, Griffin dismissed Lieutenant Hill and turned Vulcan's pedestal off. Once he, too, was gone, Griffin rounded on Baxter. "By God, Jim, but what a bloody horrible Goddamned shitty mess!" He pounded the cheap plastic table before him with his fist so that his coffee mug fell and a few loose pieces of paper floated gently to the ground. "Fuck! We're fucking stranded here with two thousand souls and they're all bloody damned!"
Captain Baxter would have smirked at this violent outburst after acting so calmly and rationally with the ship's officers, but tact dictated otherwise, so he said without tone, "Yes, Tom." In the ten years the two men had known each other, they had become close friends, despite the eight years age difference and the higher rank due to seniority. In the decade they had been together Baxter had also learned the best way to ease his superior's fierce and erratic fits was to say as little as possible and say it without tone. "We're in a bad way."
Griffin's head snapped up and he glared at his friend furiously, as though this comment was meant to offend him. "'In a bad way?'" he mimicked, his voice condescending. "'In a bad way?' Of course we're in a Goddamned bad way! We're stuck of some bloody alien ring far from home with no hope of rescue! And now we've got a thousand more people to worry about. Christ! We're on the edge of a Goddamn cliff, we can't accommodate that many more. We'll have to move! Damn your eyes, Jim." Griffin had been up pacing about the tent during this tirade, but now he sat back town again and held his head. The camp was indeed packed, and Griffin guessed some of his ODSTs were listening to his rant.
"It's not promising, that's for sure," Baxter said monotonously.
Suddenly Griffin sprang back up with more bad news to complain about, ignoring his friend's attempts to placate him. "And now we've got an armada of murderous bloody robots flying about destroying our ship and mutilating our boys!"
"No, sir, you are wrong," said Vulcan, unexpectedly rising from his pedestal to once again drench the tent with his eerie light.
The fact that Vulcan had been listening in on a private discussion and had been impertinent to him did not register in Griffin's mind in the face of such an odd statement. "Wrong?" he asked, dazed at being pulled suddenly from his tirade. "What do you mean? Wrong about what?"
"I do not believe it was these 'robots' who killed Sergeant Ceilidh Weller and Lieutenant James Edmund," he explained. "I have thoroughly analyzed the video taken of these machines and the only instrument that seemed to be evident on them was the beam emitter close to their front. That would cause burn wounds, and no such wounds were reported to have been found on the two Marines."
"Well, what did it, then?" Griffin asked, confused. Suddenly he became angry. "If you're insinuating one of my Marines..."
"I am suggesting nothing of the sort, Captain," Vulcan answered coolly. "Indeed, proof dictates such a thing would be impossible. I am suggesting that perhaps there is another class of robot on the ring. But I fear it is something far more sinister than that."
Captain Griffin felt a chill creep up his spine. "Such as what?" he asked with a certain degree of trepidation.
"As to what it is specifically, I cannot say. Perhaps this construct's designers have not left yet? Or maybe something else. I really can't say without further evidence."
Baxter quietly reminded Captain Griffin, who now thoroughly sobered and chilled to his core, that there were still Marines elsewhere on the ring. Griffin nodded to himself, and then went over to a portable communications center placed along the back of the tent. He walked over to it and opened a universal channel. "All Marine teams on the surface, return to Alpha base immediately."
Alpha, Bravo, Charley, and Eagle teams all checked in. "Captain Baxter, how many teams are out right now?" Griffin asked, already knowing the answer.
"Five, sir," he responded, realizing the significance of the number.
Griffin nodded. "Five," he repeated dumbly to himself. He picked up the microphone again. "Delta team 34, come in please." No answer sounded. "Delta team 34, please respond!" he shouted, as if talking louder would somehow make them respond.
The tent remained silent.
"Send four of the pelicans to pick up Alpha, Bravo, Charley, and Eagle teams with six men escorts. Ready the C-299 for two HRVs and one hundred fifty men. Where is Delta team situated?" he asked Baxter hurriedly. He was moving quickly, picking up handfuls of ammunition and reading his assault rifle.
"In a small forest, approximately three and a half thousand kilometers downspin."
"Then that's where we're going."
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