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Saber in the Sky - Part II
Posted By: mplacki<mplacki@yahoo.com>
Date: 21 July 2005, 10:52 pm
Read/Post Comments
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0530 Hours, July 18, 2552 (Military Calendar) /
UNSC Sequoia, military staging area above Sigma Octanus IV
Commander Jordan McKell yawned and stretched as his alarm clock beeped insistently. He slapped the "Off" button on the clock and slowly crawled out of bed.
"Five thirty is much too early in the morning," he muttered to no one in particular.
After taking a brief shower and changing into his uniform, McKell made his way to the mess hall for breakfast. He was surprisingly hungry, even though the ship's meals often left a great deal to be desired.
"What'll it be this morning, Commander?" asked the crewman on duty.
"Scrambled eggs and toast will be great. And an orange juice."
"Coming right up, sir."
McKell grabbed his tray and his carton of juice and sat down at one of the tables in the far corner of the mess hall. Around him, various crewmembers, Marines, and ODSTs chatted over morning cups of coffee or checked their PDAs for updates on the local situation. Following suit, McKell pulled his PDA out of the side pocket of his pants and punched in his name and password. The screen flashed red for a few seconds, and McKell frowned as he read the message that had suddenly popped up:
United Nations Space Command Priority Order 69824M-37
Encryption Code: Red
Public Key: file/kappa one/
From: Admiral Michael Stanforth, UNSC Leviathan
To: Commander Jordan McKell, UNSC Sequoia
Subject: New Assignment ("Project Saber")
Classification: RESTRICTED
/start file/
Commander McKell:
You have been reassigned to a new Longsword squadron. A shuttle has been sent to the Sequoia to collect you and your belongings, and will transport you here to the Leviathan. Upon your arrival, you are to report to Conference Room 314A on Deck 12 ASAP for your briefing. You will receive a detailed explanation of the reasons behind your reassignment there.
Lieutenant Foster has already been briefed on the situation and will be taking over as the commander of your current squadron. Feel free to make any farewells to your old squadron mates, then get over here. We have a great deal to discuss.
Admiral Michael Stanforth
Commanding Officer, UNSC Leviathan
/end file/
Jordan ground his teeth together, no longer hungry. While squadron reassignments were generally rare in the UNSC forces, McKell had been reassigned more than once, usually to help a squadron that the Navy brass thought needed him more than his current one. He understood that it was all for a good purpose, but he still hated the idea of leaving his people behind as he moved on, and he had never gotten used to doing so.
With a resigned sigh, Jordan finished his breakfast, and headed off to his quarters to pack.
Three hours later, McKell walked into the conference room, and was surprised to find that it was empty. Casting a puzzled look around, he took a seat at the table in the center of the room and waited.
A few minutes later, a man walked into the room, and hesitated when he saw Jordan. It was immediately obvious that it wasn't Admiral Stanforth.
"This is room 314A, right?" the man asked.
"Yeah. Were you reassigned, too?"
"Yep. Kind of odd, but it's happened before." The man held out his hand and smiled warmly. "I'm Commander David O'Brien."
Jordan shook his hand and replied, "Commander Jordan McKell. I don't suppose you know what's going on?"
David frowned. "Actually, I was going to ask you. I've heard of one person being reassigned to a different squadron, but not two." He chuckled. "Especially not two Commanders."
Jordan laughed, and looked up as a woman walked in, wearing the badge of a First Lieutenant. She looked uncertain for a moment, then promptly saluted.
"Lieutenant Kelly Harper, reporting as ordered, sir."
"At ease, Lieutenant," replied David. "I don't think you're supposed to be reporting to us, anyway." He smirked at Jordan. "At least, not yet."
Kelly smiled weakly and took a seat across from the two men. She brushed a few strands of brown hair out her eyes, then asked, "Do you know why I was reassigned here?"
"Wait a second… you were reassigned from another squadron, too?" asked Jordan, glancing at David.
"Yes… I've been reassigned once before, but it was still a bit odd…"
"We were reassigned here, too," said David. "Must be a new squadron. But I've never heard of a squadron having so many high-ranking pilots in it."
"Yeah, I was just going to say that," replied Jordan, "especially considering that most of the squadrons in the fleet are being led by Lieutenants. The fact that there are two Commanders in here… " he trailed off as another man stopped in the doorway and glanced around. "Come on in, Lieutenant, you're in the right place."
"Lieutenant Bobby Gordon, reporting, sir," he said, saluting.
"At ease," said David, "and take a seat. As of right now, we're not really bothering with rank formalities anyway," he added, winking at Bobby.
"Lemme guess," said Jordan, "You got reassigned here from another squadron, right?"
"Yeah, I did," said Bobby, looking slightly surprised.
"So did the rest of us. We're just waiting for the big cheese to show up and tell us why."
Over the next fifteen minutes, seven more people streamed into the room. Everyone compared notes, but the only thing they could come up with was that everyone in the room was an ace pilot, and that everyone had been reassigned from another squadron in the fleet.
"So, we have eleven pilots for our squadron," said Jordan. "Where's number twelve?"
As if on cue, a man in a Navy Captain's uniform walked in, followed closely by Admiral Stanforth himself.
"Perfect," grinned Jordan, as the eleven pilots around the table stood and saluted. "Time to get some answers."
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