Halo: Above Reproach

The experiment has begun.
I have found a world that was perfect for the purposes of the study. The natives are undeveloped and weak. They cowered inside their caves and watched as I stole their people. I have studied them for a time and concluded that a population of approximately one hundred, with representatives of both genders, including children, will do well. I have also taken pains to try and take with me family units- my previous studies show that they work best around those they are familiar with.
These subjects will taken from their arid, hostile environment on the planet I have labeled Sol-Three, to another world, one with an atmosphere and gravitational force similar to their own. However, this planet is ripe for planting and growing.
My question is, which of the two groups will advance quicker technologically? Will it be the ones I left behind, with a pressing need for technology to improve their lives, or my subjects, with their abundant natural resources?
They said I was mad, you know. Threw me out of the Academy. "Take a group of sentients off their native planet? Throw them into a new environment?" But I'll have the last word. When I come back to the Academy in a few millenia, arms full of data, they'll have no choice but to accept me. They'll say about me in the eons to come, "A bit over-the-top, you know, always wanting to do field work, but he did prove it."
I will be above reproach.
Halo: Above Reproach
==Chapter One==
October 21, 2528 Earth Calendar: Aboard UNSC Above Reproach, orbiting colony Groombridge-1830: 0150 hours local time
Captain Manuel Hernandez stifled a yawn as a he walked to the bridge of his ship. The Reproach had been stationed here for almost three days, with nothing for her captain to do but hope the techs would hurry up and repair the damage done in their last battle. And Groombridge-1830 itself had no particular attractions either. The only redeeming quality it had was that it was still untouched by the Covenant, which Hernandez thought was balanced out by the local culture- or lack thereof.
The ship's intercoms suddenly spoke overhead, startling him out of his reverie. "Captain Hernandez, to the bridge. Captain Hernandez, to the bridge," the mechanically flat voice of the ship's automated PA said.
Hernandez growled something under his breath and quickened his stride. What was going on that he would possibly be needed, he wondered. Groombridge was as backwater a planet as could be, so it was unlikely anyone important from the surface wanted to talk to him. What else was left...?
His musings were interrupted as he strode onto the bridge. "Captain on deck!" his XO announced. The bridge crew stood and saluted.
"At ease," Hernandez said. He turned to the exec, Lieutenant Fisher. "What's going on, Fish?" he asked.
"Message for you, direct from FLEETCOM, sir," said Fisher. Hernandez looked to see if he was joking, as his exec was known to do, but Fish seemed worried. Apparently he had realized the awful omen getting a message from FLEETCOM was during this war. Hernandez's stomach knotted into a ball.
"Thanks, Fish," Hernandez said gruffly, trying to hide his anxiety. "I'll check the message in my cabin." He turned and left the bridge.
The walk to his cabin was quick- despite her size, the Reproach was designed for ease of use. The hallways were all designed with maximum efficiency in arriving at another area, and all doors and areas were well-marked to ensure no one would get lost, even on their first time aboard the ship or in the panic of combat. When he arrived, he closed and locked the door behind him. He trusted every man and woman aboard the ship, but he wanted to guarantee that no one would be spreading rumors about the message until he was ready to address the crew. He trusted that Fisher hadn't been overly blatant about it- Fish could be counted on for discretion.
Walking over to his personal datapad, he accessed the ship's com logs. Sure enough, an encrypted message bearing an address from FLEETCOM was waiting. He selected its icon.
"This message is encrypted by UNSC security code 15532-HPTMM. Please provide the countersign," a pleasant contralto voice told him.
15532-HPTMM... Hernandez dug into his memory for the countersign. His brain, enhanced by the standard-issue neural implant, plucked the memory out of the deep recesses of his mind.
Hernandez grinned as he remembered. How could he have forgotten- he'd loved those books as a kid! "I solemnly swear I am up to no good," he said, grinning.
"Countersign accepted. Relaying message," the security protocol's avatar replied. There was a pause, and then the message began.
"Captain Hernandez, this is Lieutenant Commander Fhajad-084 of the Office of Naval Intelligence. We have recently intercepted a secure Covenant transmission and believe that a Covenant fleet is headed to your current position. Admiral Cole has been dispatched to the planet with a fleet of seventeen ships. It is believed that the Covenant force numbers at least three vessels.
"Your orders are simple. If Admiral Cole arrives before the Covenant, you are to join his fleet and aid him in repelling the enemy. If the Covenant arrive first, you are to take whatever steps you feel necessary."
The spook paused, then whispered, "Good luck." The message ended.
"Please provide countersign to close message. This message will be deleted after closing, in accordance with ONI security protocol 13T-HG9-RGD0," the female voice said.
Hernandez did nothing, simply staring at the monitor in shock. "Captain Hernandez, please provide the countersign," the voice insisted.
"Mischief managed," mumbled the captain.
"Countersign accepted. Message deleted."
The officer sat in his chair, numb. Then, in a sudden sweeping motion, he leapt up and bolted over to the PA system speaker he had mounted on his desk. He flicked the switch and began to speak.
"Now hear this. This is the captain speaking. I have just recieved word that a Covenant fleet is inbound to this system. We have been ordered by ONI to remain in-system and aid Admiral Cole, who should arrive with a larger fleet in a few hours. It is unclear when the Covenant will arrive.
"As of right now I want the whole ship at battle stations. Engineering, prepare a Slipspace jump. If the Covenant arrive before the fleet does, we are instituting the Cole Protocol and leaving system.
"That is all."
==Chapter Two==
October 21, 2528 Earth Calendar: Aboard UNSC Above Reproach, orbiting colony Groombridge-1830: 0230 hours local time
Hernandez stood on the bridge, arms folded behind his back as he looked out at the viewport. All around him the bridge crew frantically made calculations on their stations and shouted instructions to subordinates elsewhere on the ship. They had been waiting for over an hour now, and neither fleet had shown up. Hernandez hated himself for it, but he wanted the Covenant to arrive first. He had a sinking feeling that the only way he would live through this would be to make a random Slipspace jump, perhaps making it back to the UNSC slowly. 
 
"Sir!" said his tactical officer, Lieutenant O'Hara. "I'm detecting Slipspace emissions bound for us. It's not large enough to be our fleet.
"It's the Covenant, sir."
Hernandez's blood ran cold. "How long do we have?" he barked, striding over to O'Hara's monitor and reading her findings over her shoulder.
O'Hara shook her head. "I can't tell sir. Could be just a few minutes, could be..."
Three Covenant starships appeared two million kilometers off the port bow.
"Weapons! I want a MAC round as soon as possible!" shouted the Captain. "Don't launch the fighters. And fire all Archer missiles!"
"Sir, the enemy destroyer is firing!" cried O'Hara. "Five seconds to impact!"
"Brace yourselves!" roared Hernandez.
The plasma struck.
Hernandez was flung from his seat and hurled into the bukhead with a nasty crack. Fisher was hit by an unsecured chair and went flying, hitting the wall with the top of his head. He fell to the floor, his neck lolling at an impossible angle. 
Hernandez struggled upright, grabbing the chair and hauling himself into it. "Get the ship into Slipspace as soon as possible," he murmured weakly, and slumped over unconscious.
A minute later the ship winked into Slipsace.
----
Admrial Cole's fleet arrived a scant few minutes after the skirmish. In the ensuing battle, eleven of Cole's seventeen ships were lost, at the cost of three enemy vessels.
The battle was touted as a victory, the UNSC witholding their own casualties from the public reports. The Reproach was surmised to have jumped into Slipspace, as was their right given their orders. The crew was placed on the MIA list, the families given an edited account of their loved one's disappearance.
No one ever saw the ship again.
==Chapter Three==
Date: Unknown, likely October 21, 2528 (Earth Calendar): Aboard UNSC Above Reproach, in Slipspace travel: Unkown local time
O'Hara stood over the captain in the sickbay, watching him take ragged, shallow breaths. The ship was still in Slipspace, and would be for another ten minutes as per the prearranged flight pattern. 
The death toll was low, but many key personnel had been lost. The captain was out in a coma, Fisher had been killed by a broken neck, two other members of the bridge crew had died and twenty-nine others aboard the ship had been lost.
The door behind her hissed open and she turned to see Major Matthew Brandis, commanding officer of the Marine detachment aboard the ship. "Lieutenant," he said, nodding.
She saluted. Despite the difference in chain of command, she was clearly outranked. "Major."
He waved her off and moved closer to the captain. "How is he?"
"The doc says he'll be lucky to live out the jump," said O'Hara detachedly. "You appear to be the highest-ranking officer on board, sir."
"Well, as soon as we get the Slipspace drive running after this jump-" Brandis began, but O'Hara cut him off. 
"Sir, the drive is dead. I've spoken with engineering and they think we have about five minutes before the SF drive dies and we're booted out of the stream."
Brandis nodded, frowning. "There's no way to repair it?" he asked.
"Not unless we happen to arrive at a UNSC refit station. We might even end up in space with no planet for light-years."
Suddenly the ship jolted. Brandis and O'Hara stumbled, catching themselves quickly. "What was that?" asked the soldier.
"I think the ship just dropped into realspace," replied the lieutenant.
"Major Brandis, to the bridge. Major Brandis, to the bridge," the cold, mechanical PA system's voice intoned.
"I think you're right," Brandis said as he dashed out of the room.
----
Brandis stood over one of the bridge monitors, looking down at readings sensor readings of the planet below. "Any signs of life?" he asked, straightening up and walking to the viewport. He stared out at the planet below. It looked much like Earth, and according to the sensor reasdings had a stable Earth-like atmosphere and a gravitational field of 1.4 standard gees. 
"Plenty, sir," replied O'Hara, who was now the acting commander of the ship, being the most Navy officer aboard- save the captain, of course. "There appear to be seven large metropolitan areas on the planet, with small settlements between each. Our readings show that they have no spacecraft, and it would appear that they are at a technology level similar to Earth's in the early twentieth century."
"We're landing," Brandis said suddenly, stating it so matter-of-factly that O'Hara almost didn't understand what he was saying. "Sir?" she asked cautiously.
"You heard me. Down there we might be able to manufacture what we need to repair the ship. And we can't stay here in orbit forever."
"But major, if the ship is too damaged from entry to repair-"
"Then we'll die the same that we would if we stayed up here!" he shouted, rounding on her. "But if we aren't able to leave, we can farm, set up, defend ourselves against the locals. If the UNSC ever arrives here we might even have a new ally waiting.
"Plot a course that will land us in a less-settled area. Preferrably away from those cities," he ordered the nav officer.
Brandis turned back to the viewscreen, looking at the new planet. His new planet. He knew that no matter what the natives were hiding from them, nothing they copuld have would match his Marine detachment's twenty-sixth century technology. He could conquer these people like Cortez with the Aztecs, and live like a warlord for the rest of his days. But first- 
"And ready the Marines."
==Chapter Four== 
Date: Unknown, likely October 21, 2528 (Earth Calendar): Aboard UNSC Above Reproach, entering unknown planet's atmosphere: Unkown local time
The Reproach's outer layers burned away as the ship entered the gravity well. Brandis was strapped into the captain's chair, as the Old Man had died about ten minutes ago. Despite her new status, O'Hara had decided to use her old station. He had had everyone evacuated from nonessential sections into the ship's interior, and anyone who was still outside the inner area was equipped with vacuum suits and welding torches to patch holes and keep air in their stations. 
"Sir, we are less than a minute from collision with the surface," the nav officer said unecessarily.
"Noted. Carry on," said Brandis calmly.
The ship groaned as a large section of armor plate was torn from it. Brandis watched the rear camera as the plate spun away and burned up in the atmosphere.
"Sir, this is engineering. We've sustained critical damage! There is no way we will be able to reach atmosphere again without a major refit!" cried a voice over the intercom.
"So be it," replied Brandis, and closed down the speakers.
He began counting down in his head. Twenty... nineteen... eighteen... seventeen... sixteen... fifteen... fourteen... Against his will a bead of sweat rolled down his forehead. He mopped it away, angered at this display of emotion. 
"Activating all emergency stop mechanisms," said the nav officer shakily. "Releasing pressurized air... NOW!"
The ship jerked as all of the air stored in the ship's hangar was carefully but quickly balsted out forwards. "We've slowed down! Impact in three seconds...!"
The world went black.
----
The major stirred in his seat. How long have I been out? He wondered. Around him, the bridge crew began stirring and moaning as they regained consciousness. 
"O'Hara?" Brandis said, unstrapping himself and standing shakily. "How long have we been out?"
The lieutenant shifted and looked at the digital watch on her wrist. "About a minute, sir," she replied. 
Brandis almost couldn't breathe. They had done it! "Get together a team of Marines. I want three ODSTs and rifles. I'll meet them at airlock A-ten- as long as that's not buried under ground."
O'Hara frowned. "Sir?"
"I'm taking a recon team out there, O'Hara."
==Chapter Five==
I do not understand.
A vessel originating from the baseline humans' world has crashed on Utopan. I knew that they had achieved space travel, but at sublight speeds they could not have arrived here within their lifetime.
Unless...
Humans live far shorter lives than we do. If they realized that they would need faster-than-light drive to survive long voyages... and discovered it...
This is becoming interesting.
 
Date: Unknown, likely October 21, 2528 (Earth Calendar): Unknown planet, outside wreckage of UNSC Above Reproach: Unkown local time
Brandis climbed out of the airlock and stood, breathing in the air. Behind him emerged three fully suited ODSTs, armed with battle rifles. Brandis cradled an SRS99C in his arms.
"Sir, I must object to your being here. I don't think it advisable until we've further explored the area," said their sergeant.
"Noted. Now, let's move," Brandis replied, and stepped off into the woods. There was a settlement over that ways, and he wanted to observe the locals before the ship was discovered. The Helljumpers, shaking their heads, followed.
A few minute's walk took them to the edge of a clearing. The Marines crouched in the bushes, looking out. It was a small, thatched-roof village. A few of the locals could be seen lowing some fields.
The sergeant raised his battle rifle to his face and peered down the scope. He stiffened. "My god," he whispered.
Brandis raised his rifle and peered down the scope. "Dear lord," he murmured.
They were human.
End of Part One. The rest will be documented in this RP. Message me to request admittance.
Category:Halo: Above Reproach