 |
About This Site
Daily Musings
News
News Archive
Site Resources
FAQ
Screenshots
Concept Art
Halo 2 Updates
Interviews
Movies
Music
Miscellaneous
Mailbag
HBO PAL
Game Fun
The Halo Story
Tips and Tricks
Fan Creations
Wallpaper
Misc. Art
Fan Fiction
Comics
Logos
Banners
Press Coverage
Halo Reviews
Halo 2 Previews
Press Scans
Community
HBO Forum
Clan HBO Forum
HBO IRC Channel
Links
Admin
Submissions
FTP Uploads
HTTP Uploads
Contact
|
|
|
Contact: Prolouge
Posted By: Bronzemage<mrbronzer@hotmail.com>
Date: 18 March 2005, 8:12 AM
Read/Post Comments
|
0658 hours, May 4 2552 (Military Calendar), UNSC Sensor Station "Pythagoras", Epsilon Lapis system.
Lieutenant Scott McGill strode through the decks of the Pythagoras on his way to the hourly check-up. He sighed and ran a hand through his collar-length brown hair, again noting the lack of sleep which showed in his every action. He walked with a purposeful stride, but he was haunted by his dreams and the feeling that he was destined for something greater than being a Commander on a remote, albeit important sensor station. It wasn't the work... or the hours that was making him weary, no he was used to that. It was something else... a nagging feeling that he was needed somewhere, for something.
He'd been having the dreams for several months now, not knowing what they were or meant. The dream was white noise, static, hurtling through space and time, and most of all an incessant thumping that drove into his very soul. He had consulted several military doctors and shrinks and they seemed to think it was connected to a childhood trauma. He knew what is was, of course, but it wasn't something he could tell. It was too... private.
McGall wrenched himself from his thoughts as he reached the Command deck, noting that the personnel present looked up from their cups of coffee and sensor readouts. Corporal Roundtree was manning the main station, and not a finer man could be found anywhere. Brilliant at calculating the trajectories of the probes and radio dishes used to monitor this sector of space, Roundtree had been pulled out of the Outer Colonies years ago and bad been jumping from station to station for the last 10 years. He was an expert at his field, and knew just about everything that could pass through the station's sensors.
Now though, Roundtree and the others were busy checking their stations for anomalies. The Covenant could be seen anywhere...and this was a system they could ill-afford to lose. High ranking government and military officials were recuperating on Epsilon Lapis in readiness for their next jump to Earth. If they fell, the war would be lost. Humanity needed hope, hope that their Governments could hold together, hope that the military would succeed, and most of all, they needed to be reminded that there was hope. All was not lost.
"Ok people, listen up. I want a full check of all radio frequencies and the probes sent out. We aren't going to sit here drinking coffee when we should be doing our job." The Lieutenant's voice rang out over the quiet hum of the monitors and the officers on the deck busied themselves with the tasks.
McGill felt a moment of pride as he watched his men and women going about their tasks. He had trained them all, and watched as they gravitated towards their favourite skills. With the exception of Roundtree, every member on the Command deck was under twenty-eight years old.
Communications was manned by a slender Chinese women, Li-Mang. Her striking accent was usually accompanied by cheers of releif on the other end of the comm.
Scanning was manned by a burly Zulu, Ensign Nwamba. His slow, deliberate actions were accompanied by a feeling of lethargy by the African, but time and tike again, his scanning had saved one convoy or another from getting lost or destroyed by the asteroid fields that were numerous in this system.
Weapons and Engines were manned by an Australian, Jack Hay. Hay was extraordinarily optimistic and energetic, something that McGall admired. Although Weapons was a minor role onboard the Pythagoras, he was stil needed as a moral booster for the entire crew.
"Shortwave radio signals are clear," Corporal Roundtree's eager voice answered. "I'm going to activate the long-range dishes now."
"Scanner... clear"
"Weapons... clear"
"Communications... clear"
"Slipspace probes... clear"
"Radio? You got anything yet?" McGall demanded. "Corporal? Speak to me man!"
"Uhhh....sir. I think we've got something here. I'm putting it on speakers." The Corporal's shaky voice was oddly clear over the background noise. "You really need to hear this, sir."
Roundtree thumbed the switch, and the noise he had recorded hammered over the speakers. He felt his stomach tighten as he heard it. It was like nothing he had encountered before. In fact... it was like nothing anyone had heard before.
---Thump�--
---Thump Thump Thump---
---Thump Thump Thump Thump Thump ---
McGill felt his eyes widen. Oh my God, he mouthed. This was... exactly like his dream."
He had no time to ponder on the correlation between his sleepless nights and this bizarre signal, as his people needed him, needed him to say something. He licked his dry lips and tried to comprehend what was going on.
"Jesus... They're prime numbers... Someone is sending us a signal... Communications, get me an Priority Alpha channel to FleetCom on Epsilon Lapis. Scanning, continue to monitor surrounding space for any changes. Radio, keep recording that signal and playing it through the speakers. It;s time to find out what we're dealing with here.."
Around him, the men and women of Sensor Station Pythagoras got to work. Their real challenge was just beginning.
|
