Author's Note

Okay so... Yeah, I'm going over past mistakes and Re-Writing and or editing existing things to make the story seem like less of a train wreck.

Chapter #1 [Re-Written]

“Salve regina misericordie,”

August, 17th, 2555…

Unidentified System…

One Astronomical Mile from the closest star…

UNSC Forti Animo… (Orion Class Assault Carrier)

Subdeck #3-B Infantry Housing Quarters (Bravo Company)...

UNSC Army Sgt. Grayson Maxwell - SN: #33154…

1648 hours...

The silence is unsettling, not just for me of course, but for everyone. This ship, though moving through space and teeming with thousands of lives on board, some of which, if not all, have grown tired of being stranded in this endless vacuum, is still cloaked in a blanket of silence. Of course the ship really isn't quiet. Footsteps are heard walking around me, moving down halls, above and below me, their boots thumping against the floor like the drumming of a stagnant marching band. The air filtration system whirls cold air around the ship as it hums hard at work keeping things fresh, even though we all know the air is recycled, but most importantly keeping the atmosphere dry and cool, which we all appreciate. And over all of that, the belly of the metal beast echos with the sound of talking, and laughing, soldiers, noncommissioned officers, commanding officers, and ship staff, all probably voicing their displeasure, and misfortunes about still being stranded on this ship.

Once and awhile to break up the monotony of listening into an endless void of what I can only assume is repeating sounds and voices, a couple of alert notification sounds would sound off around me from the Public Announcement System, followed by a burst of an automated and robotic voice that gives me little Snippets of information of happenings around the ship, detailing information and such. But as of right now, it doesn’t pertain to me, so I mainly only listen to just to see what's going on elsewhere… giving me something to think about. But still… the silence is unsettling..

And so here I lay on my bed, inside a room of about two dozen or more empty racks while white, bright lights from the ceiling illuminate the sterile and obviously military looking living quarters for my platoon. Each bed, has its own personal foot locker, filled with other soldier's personal belongings, most likely Copenhagen, various different types of candies and snacks, pornographic magazines, and who knows what else… Of course, I wasn't one to talk, as I had a fair bit of my own personal stash in mine.

I am, completely bored out of my mind, alone with absolutely nothing better to do to, or anything to keep me busy. Of course there is a legitimate reason for this, even though not everyone likes it. We’ve been on standby for the past few weeks, as our Expedition Fleet makes its Final Approach on an uncolonized planet that the UNSC has deemed fit for colonizing with their newly introduced colonization tactics, and we're waiting for the warning order to Stow our equipment, and equip our gear. That order is something that me, and the rest of the battalion would all wish would come sooner. The Battalion Commander has ordered our company commanders to rigorously drill the Infantry on Mission tactics, for hours on end, and, we have grown sick of it. Simulation after simulation, classroom after classroom, and lecture upon lecture, never before would I have thought I would grow tired of seeing a firing range, but every time I stare at the targets down range, I want to puke…

For god sake someone give me something living to shoot at, otherwise i’ll go insane.

It’s gotten to a point that, some of the men in my platoon have made their own shooting competition, organized by some of the lower NCO’s, E-5’s and -6’s mostly.

Yeah the, “10 bottle, 10 second challenge,” Our Squad Sergeant, Staff Sergeant James Kowalski said. I didn’t care for the competition enough to put my name down on the roster when it was handed out a few weeks ago, nor did I participate in it. I find it childish, as if our soldiers are begging command to look and see that they are improving, just so they'll relax with the training, and seeings how we’ve been getting slammed with more as of recently, it’s not working. So much like a child's crudely made drawing being put up on the fridge, it was ignored after a couple of days.

But, I digress. The silence of space and the ship is just, mind numbingly exhausting. And I know the ship really isn’t silent, but the lack of combat, and actually military operations, something that I have grown used to while I’ve been enlisted, makes everything that isn’t a plasma grenade going off beside you, quiet. It’s gotten to the point in which, in my down time, like now, i've just decided to count the stitchings on the mattress above me, every little wave of the binding strings that I pass over, another second on the clock. All just to keep my mind active, and moving, to keep it thinking about something, that isn’t nothing...

“324, 325, 326…” I would murmur to myself in the silence of the room. The numbers the only thing on my mind, that and the door to our barracks, of which was closed right now, as it has been for a very long while now. I was waiting for someone to come in here, to do something, say something, clear their throat, fucking anything. But since nothing had happened, I just continued to count away the boredom, count away the day in the endless expanse of space that is this unnamed star system.

“328, 329, 33-,” I stopped counting, the word frozen on my lips as it melted away to nothing as I closed my mouth. I stopped thinking for a moment about the mattress above me and just, stopped thinking all together. I looked around the room slowly, scanning it to find anything out of the ordinary, something for me to straighten up, or hell even clean. Though I liked the silence, and the solitude from the infantry, as an NCO, I can’t help but look out for them, and worry for their sake, even if they don’t worry themselves. A phrase jumped back to my mind for a moment, a sentence from the NCO’s Creed. ‘My two basic responsibilities will always be uppermost in my mind. Accomplishment of my mission, and the welfare of my soldiers.’ The duty and responsibility I took when accepting this rank was of my doing, I earned it and I shall live up to the expectations of our platoon commander. I will do unto my men, what they did to me, and let the cycle of leadership continue. And laying here, counting fucking stitches isn’t helping.

I pushed my upper body off the mattress and stood up proper, by boots thumping softly on the deck as I swung them around. I straighten my back out and adjust my neck, a small few pricks of pain shoot up and down my body for a moment as cracks and snaps emanated from my bones and spine. Then after came a wave of pleasure and contentment, that shimmered about my body, kinda like a breath of fresh air, or the cusp of an amazing orgasm. I smile and adjust my Battle Dress Uniform, straightening out the wrinkles and creases that it obtained while I laid on my bunk. I ensure that my boots, my new shiny black boots, are bloused properly, and laced up in a orderly fashion. I ensure my name is straight on the left of my chest, and that my rank is squared up in the middle of my two pecs, right above the zipper seam. I then reach down to the ground and snatch my NCO soft cap as I affix it to my head, I square the brim and smile as I look ship shape again.

The uniform that the UNSC has us dressed in now is much different from the past. Instead of a blue BDU, and grey armor, which we wore while fighting the Covenant, it was now all an Olive Drab. It was a plain, stale, old color that has existed in the militaries of the past for a very long time. And yet, it still exists to this day, our equipment, our aircraft, our tanks, it’s all that boring olive green. And now we, the infantry are all that special, not so special olive color. Some units around us have varying versions of it.

Pathfinders, soldiers that drop first, and mark landing zones in the cover of night, have a camouflage pattern that is called, “Tiger Stripe.” And much like the name implies, the pattern is colored to mimic the style of a tiger… a green tiger that is.

Medical Personnel, like combat medics and shock trauma units wear the standard stuff, but they have these large white arm bands, marked with a red cross. Their helmets also have them on the front. It’s so they can be seen in combat easier, so if your hit, you can find them sooner… but of course, so can the enemy.

There are probably others, but I haven’t seen them yet… Which is fine by me.

I walk past row after row of bunk beds, as I head to the front of the brightly lit barracks. I reach the far wall, and turn around. I look at the empty room, the beds facing me vertically, stacked head to toe on one another, in four neat rows. I smile on how clean the room is, knowing full well who its occupants are. I turn back around and see on the white wall, two flags, one the UNSC Army Battle Flag, and then the Flag of the UNSC. Both looked very similar, yet very different all at the same time.

The honor of these symbols, and what they mean, the message they carry to all that see them. The rising storm of the human race, reborn into a new galaxy after we were nearly brought to the brink of extinction, now back on top. Our neverending conquest into an endless of amount star systems, bringing them all into the modern era, or back into it again, and introducing them to personal freedoms, and the rule of law beneth an all poweful One United Government, while nurturing them to make them strong, and powerful, and proud to be united with Earth.

I could feel a smile creep to my face as I stare at our flags, completely acknowledging the meaning behind them. Though I see only two, I know there are more behind it, flags of our past of a bygone era, long lost to history books and time, well almost all gone. I then look to myself, I look down to my right arm, while still smiling a proud smile. I raise my sleeve, I roll it up to my elbow, and there in still proud patriotic red, white, and blue colors, was another flag. A flag of a lost nation. A nation of stars and stripes, the nation of my forefathers and their fathers that died to see it free. A nation of democracy, freedom, and the pursuit of justice, and happiness, just like banners in front of me. A name and meaning lost to many, a culture lost to all. Well, maybe not exactly alike in everyway, but they were close enough for me.

Running my thumb down the ink on my skin, over the stars and stripes, I could feel a magic in the air, as if I carry the symbol of a nation's pride with me, the pride of millions of long gone souls, long lost to civil conflicts and time. A mark of a lost world, a mark of luck for me. I throw down my sleeve and looked to the door. A new world waits for humanity. We will be the soul influence of a new world. We are pioneers of a new era, an era built off of the backs of a world long gone. Long gone, but not forgotten. I walk to the door, leaving the flags behind. The door opens as I walk up to it, I turn back and look at the room one last time before exiting into the ship.

“Our time is now, and we will bring humanity with us,” I say to myself out loud to no one in particular, just wanting to enjoy the sound of my voice, that wasn’t spouting numbers away like some kind of possessed calculator. What I didn’t expect to hear, was a response.

“Oh what now... are you some kind fuggin’.. philosopher or some shit?” The voice came, it’s tone very low, with a bit of slang thrown in, it flowed from it’s lips like syrup, smoothly yet extremely harshly in what it was asking. I spun to my left quickly, slightly caught off guard, and I see Staff Sergeant James Kowalski the, “Child of the Stars,” or, “Star Child,” for short, standing their.

This man had a presence around him, a feeling of death people have described it to be like, a dark history following in his wake, that only those who knew him on a personal level have heard of, but only in snipits, and never the full picture. Luckily, I was buddy buddy with him so he was more, carefree around me.

But physically, he was a tall man, standing at 6 feet 7 inches, and his frame was built to match. He looked as if he could bench press a warthog, and punch a hole in reinforced steel. Other squad NCO’s paled in comparison to him, mostly because he stood out in a line up. Some say he had been with the UNSC for as long as our Platoon Sergeant, and he had been given the chance to be promoted before, on a multitude of occasions but declined, saying in his own words, “I work better in small groups.” Even I don’t know if that’s true.

“Aren’t we all philosophers in our own way Kow’?” I Asked facing him properly, a brow on my forehead arching upwards, a sly smirk creeping to my face, knowing full well he hated being called Kow, and just preferred to be called James. He rolled his ocean blue eyes, and passed some air through his closed teeth, a chuckle shaking his chest.

“Only a dumbass optimist philosopher would say that Maxy. And you, are no philosopher, trust me, you think too much to be one,” He walks slowly over to my right side and playfully wraps an arm around my shoulders squeezing me into his hulking body, without even trying, as the two of us begin to walk down the long corridor.

He extends his right arm out as if showing me a diagram.“You’re more of a living breathing, history book, one that has a mouth,”

“Yeah how so Kow?” I say looking up at him, me being only 6 feet. It was like looking up a mountain, a green mountain with a square jaw.

“You’re boring, heavy, and unfortunately I need to use you. But you’re fun to drop on the ground and scare the shit out of people,” He says forcing me to walk beside him, as he walked down the hall he head come up beforehand. I meet his pace quickly, not trying to slow him down.

We walked through the halls and talked. The halls walls were a pallet of whites and greys, and the ground was, an iron like floor that was polished to a mirror like shine, which gave our boots a nice sounding click clack sound as they passed over. Inspirational posters hung from the walls, telling us to do our best and be all we can be and things like that as bright lights lit everything so bright... you almost needed a pair of sunglasses to look in a mirror.

We also passed signs for rooms with arrows pointing different directions, and directional maps for the ship. Windows that appeared once and awhile beside us, opened up into either classrooms, that were either dark, or filled with soldiers at desks, or into open space, which usually had one or two soldiers standing at, looking off at the planet in the distance that we were slowly growing close to. Pipes would be trailing along the ceiling above us filled with water, gas, or oxygen and such all bolted to the ceiling, and all painted a grey, with a colored red, blue, or yellow stripe on the side indicating what was inside. We also passed room after room of barracks, all part of different platoons, and support elements within our company, and battalion.

“Jesus James, if this is how you flirt with women no wonder your single,” I Jokingly say in a sarcastic tone of voice.

“Yeah ha ha ha very funny dickhead. Maybe if you didn’t constantly rant and rave about humanities past all the time, you’d find a girlfriend too, instead of boring them to death,” He said back in stern but obviously joking sounding tone. In response I became jokingly offended by his jest.

“I do NOT talk about the past all the time Kowalski,” I say as I roll my eyes.

He pointed at me with a flabbergasted face. “YES you DO! What do you mean you don’t?! Every second I’m around you, you’re quoting some fucking dead general or something stupid shit like that! Don’t even play me like that Max, you know that I know better then that!” He said taking his arm off my shoulder, as the two of us walked side by side now at a normal pace.

“Yeah yeah, okay, I do. But what are you gonna do about it huh? Break my arms?” I says nudging him in the side, of which he barely moves. He shoots a menacing death glare at my face, accented with a smile. If looks could kill, he would have blown a hole in the ship.

“I can if you want me to,” He says in a very menacing sounding voice. It was damn near a growl, like some kind of twisted animal. I face front and look away. I knew he was just putting on a act but, Jesus he doesn't hold back sometimes.

“Fuck. Note to self never give you ideas,” I could feel him grin devilishly next to me, without even looking at him. He laughed quietly, it was so full of base... I could feel it.

“Anyway, what brings you back to the barracks?” I Say as we pass a group of infantrymen standing together in a clump, talking amongst themselves in the hall. They make passing glances at me and the Squad Sergeant, and quiet down for a moment as we pass. Something I would have arose suspicion at, if it were not for the person I was walking next to.

“Were you not paying attention at all to today's morning announcements?” He said as we rounded a corner at a “T” junction, taking the right path. I thought to myself for a few moments recounting to this morning. I then snap my fingers at the info I figured he was talking about.

“Oh shit that’s right, briefing at 1700 hours. Shit thanks for coming to get me James. I would have missed it,” I say slapping myself on the side of my head out of pure ignorance. He then proceeds to also slap me upside the head as if reinforcing what I had already done.

“Yeah well, time to get your head in the game, the waiting is over, shits about to get real, and it’s about to get real fast,” He says as we approach a group of soldiers. They were all above the rank of Corporal. Some wore soft caps, some stood their with their boots unbloused, some with their black gloves on, some with knee pads on, but they all looked at least decently uniformed. Some tapped their boots impatiently, others talked to each other, and a few just stand in silence with their arms crossed.

Most looked either annoyed or just plain bored, which was understandable. A small amount of them actually looked excited, probably for what this briefing entailed. It was all about the planet we were slowly approaching for about two days.

It was a relief for all us when the planet was finally found and came into view. It was good to know that we could finally have a chance to feel grass underneath our boots again, instead of concrete or steel.

That’s what me and the rest of the soldiers around me thought about when they came to the window too, to watch the planet in the distance for the first time. Watching the planet just sit their from a distance, watching clouds roll over each other, watching the unmoving oceans, and the mountains that scraped the skies. God it was like some kind of movie, us being the first humans to lay eyes on that marvelous rock, a much needed break from space, and a chance to breathe real air again.

We entered the room a little while after me and my tall friend had arrived. We sat there for a little while, I looked around awkwardly at the men around me, the silence returning reminding me of how alone we were in the vastness of space, and how much it meant for us to be here right now, just as it always had been.

“Lieutenant on deck!” Came our platoon sergeant, Sergeant First Class Nate Long, whom of which was standing at the front of the room. His voice boomed around the small room, forcing us all to our feet. We snapped our heels together and brought our hands to our brows in a proper salute. And then, he walked in his presence really hitting us as he walked slowly across the platform to the Holoboard on the wall behind him. He said nothing until he inserted a flash drive into the board and turned to us properly. He then too stood at attention and returned that salute.

“At ease gentlemen, please take a seat,” He spoke with a slight british accent, which made him sound sophisticated in my opinion. In other soldiers point of views, as I have heard from many sources, makes him sound pompous and arrogant. But luckily for me I tend not to listen to such words. And luckily for Second Lieutenant William Holland, he had the experience to back his voice. It was without question that he had seen his fair share of conflict while serving with the UNSC. His battle record extends farther than all of us lower NCO’s, and it is only surpassed by that of the platoon sergeant. He has led many soldiers before us, and probably will continue to lead more after I, and the rest of us are long gone. And so when he spoke, we listened.

And so we sat down.

“Good afternoon gentlemen, ladies. You have all been assembled here today under circumstances of which, I am sure you already know. We have received intelligence about the planet below us, command has given out a Need to Know doiser of things we need to be briefed on, which includes the only things they can see with the eyes aboard this ship,”

The board behind him began to flicker to life, the UNSC logo disappearing, which was replaced with a white loading bar that jolted and jumped forward. Then as it reach the end, it flashed twice, then a series of reports and pictures flashed up on screen. I looked at them closely and inspected what I could see at the moment. It was aerial photographs of what looked like the rolling hills and shorelines of a massive continent, the one directly below us, assumed to be the largest one on the planet.

“Now from the pictures that they have taken, a few things have become obviously certain on the planet. We, are not alone,” Upon hearing that it put me, and the rest of the sergeants next to me on the edge of our collective seats. We squinted our eyes and looked at the pictures that were appearing on screen over top the existing ones.

“And the best part is. Whatever’s down their isn’t covenant, and it’s not human. It is something brand new, and we are the first ones that are going to be making contact with this new civilization, at least we hope so anyway,” He then clicked the existing pictures away and showed us a new couple of photographs. These pictures, were much closer to the ground of the main massive land mass. They were shots of what looked like a small old european style looking town.

And thus I became confused.