DT 2023: Recon-838 and Bethsaida

“We decided to go to Bethsaida after picking up microburst transmissions on UNSC-secure frequencies tailored for the Sixteenth Fleet. Given it was Commander Kedar who turned on the UNSC during the Battle of Gilboan Citadel, I would assume that is how we, and all the bad guys, came across Bethsaida and ONI Recon 838.”
Andra leaned against the far wall of a three-story office with a window overlooking the Avery Johnson Academy Pelican Yard and a hint of the distant forest and mountains behind the security wall. It reminded her of Camp Ambrose on Argus V, her first home away from home after joining the Spartan-III program. She took her eyes off the snowy mountain caps and gave Spartan O’Brien a side glance, watching as his FRET AI danced in and out of his holo-display screen as he transcribed her story on the keyboard.
Despite so much technology at their fingertips, Avery Johnson Academy’s culture seemed unusually analog. The AI were here, the automation was here. But the personnel liked to be present and active behind desks or moving equipment around the facility by hand.
O’Brien finished his typing and met Andra’s eyes. “Do you know what happened to Recon 838? Evidently, they did not survive their data vault mission but you made it here. Can you expand on that?”
“How much?”
“As much detail as you want or can recall.” O’Brien explain and gestured Andra back to the pair of reclining chairs behind the table. For a Spartan Branch office, it was neat and spacious like a flag officer’s quarters aboard the UNSC Infinity. The black-and-white marble tiling made for a less clinical environment, similar but more welcoming than the Office of Naval Intelligence.
Andra took a chair. “Alright, I’ll lay out the basics first. By decrypting the Bethsaida transmissions within the sector, we managed to identify an active operation was taking place there. As I understand from Callum’s assessment of the situation, they were a form of staggered Slipspace coordinates.
Essentially taking a sub-prowler flotilla and doing micro Slipspace jumps across a wide distance from outside a star system, dropping closer and closer to the destination and scanning for potential risks or threats to the mission. 838’s delivery force likely determined the path was clear because every transmission was a series of maneuver acknowledgments. We followed them in and did a similar check before closing with Bethsaida and not detecting anything of note at first.”
O’Brien continued to type through Andra’s retelling. When Andra stopped, he looked up at her expectantly.
Andra tilted her head to the side, trying to recall a specific detail. We found the Kru’desh Legion and Banished forces were present. Given we were still some distance from both groups, we focused on following 838’s trail in hopes of linking up with them but no sequences or signal queries were connected or responded to. At that point, we went groundside onto the planet and did an urban insertion with our lone Pelican.”
“At this point, did you know 838 was dead?”
“No. We only had their radio silence to work off and whatever markers they left during their own insertion. We didn’t encounter any Promethean forces either. Banished and the Kru’desh were still a way off. The city was quiet; kind of like New Phoenix when I was stationed there.”
O’Brien paused in his typing at the Earth city remark but didn’t acknowledge it, returning to his transcription.
Andra offered her own question, feeding her curiosity. “Why don’t you let your AI do the transcription? Isn’t that a little inefficient?”
O’Brien shrugged. “We lost the Spartan-IV training stations due to our AI networking. I guess after that, we’ve been a little more careful about how we do automation here at the Academy. Software is made simpler. Human eyes check all automation processes, we’re using Dumb AI to simplify our workloads still but it makes some sense with the Created to be a little more careful.”
“Typing still seems a little inefficient.”
“I don’t mind. Before becoming a Spartan, I was in ONI Signals Intelligence. I spent a lot of time engaging in query-typing so this is nothing new for me. I enjoy it.”
Andra nodded in acceptance. “My dad was in Air Force Signals Intelligence. I was too young to see his work but I bet you guys both did some important work.”
O’Brien nodded. “Pretty much. I spent a lot of time at home. It was nice for a wartime role, but its easy to get complacent. I was itching for the field like a lot of signals analysts so I did a couple tours. Did well enough to draw interest from the Spartan-IV program.”
“Nicely done,” Andra agreed.
“How about you? You’re a Spartan-III, right? You were recruited as a war orphan? I heard some messed up stuff in training about your generation – experimental brain augmentations and suicide missions.”
Andra nodded. “Alpha and Beta Company, yeah. Gamma Company were the ones that got their brains rewired.”
“And you’re part of Delta? I know the other three but I don’t know much about your company. First time I’ve heard of it.”
“It’s a longer story,” Andra chuckled. “Maybe another time. You want me to continue from where I left off?”
“Sure. But you can skip to your assessment on finding Recon 838. What happened there specifically, usually with these data vault operations if we lose the team we’re completely in the dark on what happened and we just have to give up or send another team to deal with it. You’re the first unit to not be part of those missions to come back because of one, and I guess you completed the job for them? According to Callum-B042 anyway.”
Andra nodded in confirmation once more. “We picked up where 838 left off after synchronizing their gear with our own, but to back up. We came across 838 on…”