[A-Deck] Major Revisions Necessary...

[Harrison, D.]

1158 Hours, June 16, 2542 (MILITARY CALENDAR) /
Aboard UNSC Vengeance, en route to Phoenix III,
Alpha Phoenicis System

The bridge was rife with activity. Naval personnel moved to and fro between their assigned stations, making preparations for when the Vengeance would drop out of slipspace. A timer counted down the time until the ship's estimated exit on the main tactical display in front of the captain's chair occupied by Rear Admiral MacArthur.

According to the clock, there wasn't much time left. Standing beside the command chair, his eyes fixed on the clock, was Lieutenant Colonel Harrison. His pearlescent blue eyes shifted momentarily towards one of the forward view screens, and to the untrained eye it would have appeared that the screen was off. The Colonel knew better, however.

On the screen was darkness; a black void of nothingness. Occasionally hues of blue and white would stream by, but for the most part there was absolutely nothing there to see. Such was the nature of slipspace. The knowledge of the physics of slipspace, and how the Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine managed to tear a hole into the temporal dimension from real space, was far beyond the grasp of his understanding.

The countdown timer chimed as it denoted there was but a minute left until the Vengeance transitioned back to real space. There was a flicker of static energy beside the command seat, and suddenly it swirled and transformed, taking shape to to form the body of a remarkably attractive woman adorned in a hospital gown circa-1940. Beatrice, the ship's AI, turned to face Admiral MacArthur with a sultry smile upon her face.

"Good mornin', Admiral," she greeted the ship's commander with a wink as she placed her right hand on her hip in a seductive pose, her free hand twirling a loose strand of shoulder-length hair between her fingers. Her tone had been mildly flirtatious.

Admiral MacArthur glanced at the avatar hovering mere inches above the holo-tank and flashed her a polite, yet uninterested smile. "Beatrice," he replied curtly.

She giggled and then glanced at the countdown timer on the tactical display. "I'm just here to remind you that we'll be returning to real space in fifteen seconds."

Fifteen seconds? Harrison thought. According to the timer on the display, they still had thirty seconds to go until the transition was made. He shook his head, deciding it was best not to think too hard on it. Derrick's eyes returned to where they had been set before, watching as the Admiral nodded towards the AI's avatar. "Thank you, Beatrice."

Beatrice tipped her nurse's cap once in response and then her image fizzled away, the holo-tank falling dark. MacArthur turned his head back towards his command staff and cleared his throat, preparing to issue them orders. "Lieutenant Markham," the aging flag officer called, his voice booming within the confines of the bridge.

"Yes, sir?" Lieutenant Travis Markham, the ship's primary communications officer, sounded.

"I want us connected to the nearest comm buoy as soon as we make our transition," MacArthur ordered. "I want to know what's going on in the system."

"Aye, aye, sir," Markham responded.

Seconds later, the images on the forward view screens changed, replaced by the stars of the cosmos and the vibrant array of colors of a nebula off in the distance. Derrick felt the gentle tug of gravity from the reversion, though it was barely detectable. Immediately, the sound of Markham's fingers dancing across a keyboard resonated through the room as he went to work fulfilling his assigned task.

"Sir," Markham sounded off a moment later, "I've logged into a buoy and --"

The lieutenant abruptly fell silent. Admiral MacArthur leaned forward in his chair, his brow arched in both curiosity and concern as he waited expectantly for the officer's report.

"Sir, you're gonna want to hear this," Markham stated, his voice grim.

Lieutenant Markham punched in a series of commands, and the bridge's intercom squelched to life with a momentary burst of static. The static was replaced by a stern, terse voice. Instinctively, all eyes looked up at the ceiling. "All stations this net, this is an automated emergency alert transmission. At 0200 hours Zulu Time, June 12th, multiple unscheduled in-system slipspace events were detected. Covenant forces have arrived and have launched an invasion on Phoenix III. Winter Contingency has been declared; all forces are to commence immediate defensive and offensive combat operations against all ground-and-space forces. All stations this net..."

Markham killed the speakers and the bridge fell uncomfortably silent. Harrison quietly swore under his breath, his fears about their mission having just been realized. Both he and the Major had been worried that the Covenant would be the first to arrive to the system, and now it seemed their worries had not been misplaced. Derrick glanced at MacArthur, whom seemed to be in the midst of deep contemplation.

Suddenly, the shriek of a shrill alarm reverberated through the bridge. All eyes diverted over to the Vengeance's primary tactical officer, Lieutenant Chang. "Sir," she exclaimed, her eyes focused on her console. "I'm reading several CCS-class battlecruisers and a handful of CPV-class destroyers in proximity of Phoenix III. It appears they're being engaged by friendlies."

"Anything else," MacArthur asked.

"There's also an assault carrier hanging back from the rest of the pack, sir," she answered promptly. "It appears to be holding just over the planet, likely deploying troops groundside."

MacArthur nodded. "Beatrice," he called, "what's the status of the battlegroup?"

Beatrice's avatar reappeared over the holo-tank. She had a look of deep concentration. "All ships have exited slipspace and reported in. They're currently moving to regroup with us, Admiral."

"Status of ground forces?"

"I've managed to translate and decipher a few bits and pieces of the Covenant battle net," Beatrice explained. "I wish I could've translated more, but --"

Harrison sighed and cut her off before she went off on a needless tangent. "What did you find out?"

Beatrice turned to him and huffed in annoyance. She never appreciated being rudely interrupted. "They're still in the fight. According to reports they've barely managed to hold the Covenant at bay along the river bisecting the planet's capitol."

The Colonel nodded. Whoever was in charge of the forces groundside had reacted in the same manner he would have if he were in the officer's shoes. The Great Tallusa River was an obvious chokepoint in the event of an attack by a stronger and numerically superior force. The only path across it was via a series of five bridges spread across it that connected the eastern and western parts of the city together.

So long as the UNSC maintained air superiority on one side of the river to prevent the Covenant from simply bypassing the bridges altogether, the forces on the ground had a viable chance at holding the enemy at bay. Of course, one could only hold a beast back for so long before they grew tired and weak. The Covenant were an enemy that did not tire easily, nor did they ever retreat from a fight.

Harrison looked over at the Admiral. It sounded like he needed to make haste so that he could begin preparing his unit for battle. "Sir, I need to go. I need to revise my Op Order and prepare my battalion for deployment."

"Understood, Colonel," MacArthur replied with a nod. He turned his attention to the holo-tank. "Beatrice, can you assist the Colonel with what he needs?"

She nodded. "Yes, Admiral. I can devote twenty percent of my core processing to assist him with whatever he needs." The last line was delivered with an overtly seductive tone. Derrick shook his head and rolled his eyes. Were he afforded more time, he might have had a sarcastic retort to come back with, but unfortunately time was not on his side.

"Very well," MacArthur said, ignoring the tone in which she responded. "Provide whatever assistance he and his staff may need as they prepare to rapidly deploy to the planet." MacArthur turned his attention away from the two and onto his executive officer. "XO, sound General Quarters and bring the ship to Combat Alert Alpha. I want all hands at their action stations five minutes ago."

Commander Jeager, a slim and pale man of middle age whom hailed from the Jovian Moons of the Sol System, stepped forward and nodded at the Admiral. "Aye, aye, sir!" he barked in his thick Austrian accent.

With that, the Commander marched back to the Combat Information Center located in the aft section of the bridge. Seconds later alarm klaxons blared and the bridge was momentarily bathed in dull crimson light. Jeager's voice rang over the ship's intercom, calling for all hands to report to their action stations and prepare for battle.

Colonel Harrison nodded respectfully at the Admiral and then turned on his heel, heading for the door that would lead him out of the bridge. He made his way into the connecting corridor and marched across, stepping into the chow hall directly across from the bridge. The chow hall was empty, totally devoid of its usual occupants and cheery atmosphere as the alarms still blazed.

Derrick brought the TACPAD strapped to his left wrist upto his face and typed in a string of commands. Almost instantly, a direct link was established between his and the Major's 'pads. "Major," he said into the built-in microphone, "I need everyone up on A-Deck on the double. You will find me in the chow hall across from the bridge. Have the FROST DRAGON operation order open and ready."

He paused for a moment as he found a table of suitable length to set down his belongings. Derrick rummaged through his pockets until he found his datapad, and then placed it on the table beside the rest of his stuff.

"It's as we feared," he said grimly. "The Covenant are here."

[Harrison, D.]

While waiting on the his executive officer and the command staff to arrive, Derrick had already started working on the FROST DRAGON revisions. Admiral MacArthur had contacted him moments ago over the ship's intercom, promising to buy him as much time as possible so that he could get his things in order. Beatrice proved to be a godsend, as she directly interfaced with his datapad remotely, and was feeding him data that he desperately needed.

"Beatrice," Harrison called.

"Yes, Colonel?"

"We'd be screwed without you," he replied.

Derrick could hear the grin in her voice. "I aim to please." He laughed and shook his head. Beatrice may have been quirkier than most AI he had dealt with in the past, but she was a powerful asset to have on one's side. The cold, hard fact of the matter was; without her, none of what he was trying to accomplish would be doable.

Not as effectively, at least. Before that train of thought could carry on, the sound of doors giving way echoed through the room. The Colonel glanced up from his datapad and to the doors on the opposite end of the room from where he stood. Through them, Major Killinger with his command team in tow, emerged. He greeted them with a nod and waved them over.

"Beatrice, link to their 'pads," Harrison ordered. "Give them the same information you're giving me."

The AI acknowledged his order, and his team's datapads beeped as a remote connection was made. Derrick scrutinized his men for a moment as they checked their devices, and studied the information given to them. "Will that be sufficient to get you started on your respective sections of the order?"

Weathers was the first to answer, followed by the others. "Yes, sir."

The Colonel nodded. "Good. Then get to work," he said. "We don't have much time until we arrive at the planet. The Admiral is trying to buy us time, but he can't do it for long. You have ten minutes to get your sections written."

Harrison then turned his attention to Killinger. "We're in for a hot drop, XO. I need you to head down to the hangar and talk to the CAG. You remember that talk we had about approach vectors? Give him the flight path you suggested so that he can brief all pilots on their flight plan. Let him know the first wave will be our Marines. Second wave will be the Arty boys and motor transport. Good to go?"

He waited for the Major's response and then ushered him off. "Beatrice, tell cryo to thaw my company commanders. I want them up here on the double."

"Aye, Colonel," the AI smartly replied.

They were racing against the clock, and time wasn't on their side. He was concerned that the pressure might effect his subordinates performance, and prayed that that wasn't the case.

Mistakes right now would only get people killed.

[Flannigan, S.]

The light was far away at first, barely a point in the distance. It had been growing, ever so slowly, for what had felt like forever. There was a sound with it, but that was as far away as the light, growing slowly in volume and clarity. He focused on it with all his senses, willing the light and sound to come closer. It came, no faster or slower, and he pulled at it harder. Still no extra speed, but steadily it came on. The sound became clearer, an old IRA war tune, and the light continued to shine brighter and harder. Finally he opened his eyes as the music faded away, leaving nothing but the freezing cold and the view of the cryo room through the ice crystals formed on the panel in front of him.

The hiss of the air exchange signaled the pod was about to open, and Captain Flannigan took a long slow breath to aid him in the fast transition he knew he had to make. He had done this more times than he could count, both for real and in training. He took in the background noise trying to guess what was waiting for him on the other side of the panel. With a final hiss, the pod opened up and Flannigan willed himself forward. Nothing responded correctly, just like always, but he pushed past it. Both feet stood solidly on the cryo bay floor when the mucus started to pour out of his face. A slight shiver went through his body and a knee buckled. He followed it to the floor, letting the nerves start to refire as he sat with a single knee on the floor. He took the moment to empty his stomach into the grated floor beneath him, taking another steadying breath before his stomach convulsed again.

"Don't ye fookin' touch me, Squid," Flannigan said, raising a finger to the cryo tech who was moving towards him with a towel. "I'll take the towel, but I'm nay doin' yer fookin' tests again. Where'm I needed?"

"Colonel Harrison wants you on Alpha Deck sir," the cryo tech said quickly, tossing him the towel and backing away. Flannigan numbly caught the towel, and it looked awkward to say the least. Wiping the moisture out of his bristled hair, he forced himself back to his feet and towards his locker. Things kept getting easier as he worked the combination and started to get dressed. His boots were barely bloused, and if the sleeves hadn't been prerolled, they might not have even been buttoned. Hastily tying his boots, and putting his cover on smartly, he glanced around the bay. Zieed and Matheson were starting to thaw. He assumed they weren't needed yet, but they would likely be ready when he left this brief.

Striding out of the cryo-chamber, Flannigan started to pick up his pace when he saw the growing chaos in the passageways. This wasn't a simple link up. There were too many people running back and forth and it looked like their were far too many people out of the coffins. Taking his fast, pumping strides, Flannigan quickly ate up the distance to Alpha deck. He wasn't sure were to go from there, but thankfully a friendly face met him.

"You're ahead of the others as usual Captain," Beatrice said with a wink. 

"Well, if you aren't a sight fer sore eyes," Flannigan said with a smirk. "I don't s'pose we've time fer that though. Where's the Colonel?"

"In the Chow Hall across from the Bridge," Beatrice said, fading from view. "Another time perhaps, Captain."

"If only she had a real body," Flannigan said with a shake of his head. He hustled to the Chow Hall, not bothering to pause when he walked in. He pulled his cover off and announced his arrival.

"Captain Flannigan, reporting as ordered sir."

[Harrison, D.]

The operation order for FROST DRAGON was coming together nicely, due in large part to Beatrice. She was able to process information at a faster rate than any human being alive, and Harrison found that it was he who was struggling to keep up. Just when he believed that there would be a problem amending a particular section of the order, or coming up with the necessary information, would the changes suddenly appear in the blink of an eye. That kind of help when they were pressed for time was an absolute godsend, and the Colonel quietly thanked whomever it was that invented smart AIs in the first place.

Despite the quirky AI's help, there were some things that needed to be done that she could not handle. For those problems, he turned to his staff. "Sergeant Major."

Sergeant Major Carson stepped forward and snapped to rigid attention. He was a tall and solidly built man who hailed from the Inner Colonies. He'd served in many different infantry units over the course of his career (his stint with One-Twelve being the longest), and had even once served as a drill instructor years ago. So when he barked "sir!" at the top of his lungs in his typical English brogue, it was rather intimidating.

"I need you to go down to the hangar and secure us a couple transports for the trip down to the planet," he said in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Aye, sir," the Sergeant Major crisply replied. Just before he turned around, Harrison saw his lips curl into a grin. "I love rustling up the flyboys."

Before Derrick could make a comment, the Sergeant Major was gone. He couldn't help but smirk, and shook his head. Over the years he had met his fair share of E-9s, but none of them held a candle to Sergeant Major Carson. He was truly an enigma, and one of the finest enlistedmen he knew.

Just as the Colonel was about to return to what he was doing, he heard the door to the chow hall open. When he looked up, he saw Captain Flannigan marching over to where he and his staff had set up shot.

"Captain Flannigan reporting as ordered, sir," the Irishman said.

Harrison nodded. "Standby, Captain. Your peers should be here shortly."

To their credit, the other two company commanders of his battalion arrived in little under three minutes after Flannigan had appeared. Colonel Harrison stepped away from the table and approached the trio of captains, momentarily scrutinizing them before glancing down at his datapad. He noticed the operation order was being uploaded to their datapads already by order of Beatrice. Damn she's good, he thought with pleasure.

"This is going to be brief, so bear with me as we're pressed for time here," the Colonel began, his eyes moving between the three. "The Covenant seemed to have beaten us here, so Operation: FROST WALL is hereby scrubbed. The Op Order for Operation: FROST DRAGON is being uploaded to your datapads as we speak. Study it fast, and use it to write your company orders."

He paused for a moment to give them time to pull out their datapads and access the order. "The Covenant have hit the Navy pretty hard, and things aren't looking too good on the ground, either. Approximately half of the capitol is under alien control. There is good news, however. The Army have managed to stall their advance by securing the five bridges that separate the western and eastern halves of the city. The western half is under enemy control, but the eastern half is ours. I don't know how they've done it, but they've managed to hold out and kept the Covenant at bay."

"Your mission thus far is simple. You will be relieving the Army at the bridges and holding down the fort so that the Army can rest, rearm, and prepare to jump back into the fight. Captain Marrett, your company will hold down the two southern-most bridges. Captain Alexander, you get the middle two. Captain Flannigan, your company is responsible for the northern-most bridge and the defense of your section of the eastern bank. The Covenant have tried numerous ways to overcome this obstacle, including attempting to bypass the bridges altogether. So far, they've failed on all accounts."

Harrison paused to take a breath, and took the time in-between to scrutinize his men. While grim as they appeared, he knew they were ready. "After the Army has gotten their beauty sleep and rearmed, we're going to be the spearhead in a counter assault of the western half of Tallusa. And let me tell you, we will be rolling with a lot of ass. In the meantime, Force Recon will be forward of your positions calling in fire missions and sorties on any target juicy enough to spend the ordinance on. So expect weakened resistance when you make your push west into enemy territory."

He tried to think if there was anything that he had missed, and couldn't think of anything. He shrugged. "Anything that I may have missed will be in the Op Order. We launch an hour from now at 1300. You're dismissed."

[Flannigan, S.]

Flannigan nodded, grabbing the datapad and starting back down to Bravo deck. Zieed and Matheson should be upright in the cryo-bay, even if they weren't fully functional yet. Flannigan had a whole set of orders put together, but much of it would be easy enough. He had already copied the command and signal piece and the supply sections to his own OpOrd. His big decisions were going to be where to place everyone. His AO had three major areas that needed to be tended to, and the three platoons would each get one. He wanted Zieed's opinion on that, and Matheson might even have something worth adding. He hoped they were up and ready to go by the time he got there.

Rounding the final corner into the cryo-bay, he found both men standing at their lockers in various states of dress. Zieed was far an away more experienced at this and it showed. The man was nearly dressed, while Matheson was still trying to pull on socks with awkward looking attempts. Flannigan smiled to himself, trying to keep in mind that Matheson was, comparatively, a new guy. His three years of experience had landed him in the XO chair due to a shortage of officers and was doing a fine job. He just lacked the experience of Flannigan and Zieed.

"Lieutenant," Flannigan said, standing casually at the door. "You're giving the officer corp a bad name letting the First Sergeant be prepped faster."

"Let me," scoffed Zieed. "Like anyone could keep up with me getting out of the freezers?"

"I'll get faster sir," Matheson said, finally pulling his sock on.

"I was a joke lad," Flannigan said with a smirk. "We've got an OpOrd to write and a planet to save. Meet me in the briefing room ASAP. Data pads will be there for you."

Both gave him a nod and hurried to get dressed. Flannigan made his way over to the head tech.

"Start thawing my platoon leaders in ten mikes," Flannigan said brusquely. "Make sure they report to our briefing room as soon as they can move."

"Aye sir."

With that, Flannigan made a quick about face and headed for the briefing room. there was plenty to sort out before he got his help, and he wanted to make sure he could make this move fast. They didn't have much time.