The 13th Tribe Book II: A Symphony of War

[U.P. Cinnabar]

Looks like the Covies are going for atttiting the good guys and trebling their logistics and infrastructure load while distracting them. Nice going, Phil. The rest of Act III should be interesting.

Possible heavy cruiser names : Mea Est Ultio, Obviam Nox Noctis, Per Ardua, Ad Astra, Semper Paratus, Semper Fidelis, Semper Libre, Invictus, Belle Poule.

[U.P. Cinnabar]

Enough Traveller references already! Or there will be retribution! I'll....I'll resurrect Franklin North via implausible time travel shenanigans, give him Commander Cinnabar as an XO, then write a really embarrassing death for both of them!

And, this was the part where I talked about Fire, Fusion And Steel . But, okay, E_F, no more Traveller references. Promise. Boy Scout salute and everything.

(you'll find my actual name in the list pinned in the FB group, BTW)

[Eternal_Freedom]

I'll take Semper Paratus and Ad Astra, thanks.

As for the Covvies...well, the hierarchs told them to attack on all fronts and to disregard losses, because as far as Truth, Mercy and Regret are concerned they'll soon begin the Great Journey. When that happens they don't need warriors. So losses are not a concern for the Covenant leadership at this point.

It is a concern for the Sanghelli leadership however, so we may yet see the Great Schism.

And Admiral Whitcomb gets to play with his NOVA bombs, so good for him. For those who are unfamiliar with the books, Whitcomb had built several of these, each of which was a cluster of 9 very high-yield nukes surrounding an even bigger fusion fuel mass. Only one was ever detonated - and it shattered a moon and boiled away the atmosphere of a planet. Some people on the Halo wiki helpfully calc'd it as low petaton-yield (or, one thousand max-power superlaser shots from the Warstar). And now he's added naquada to it, so we're looking at low-exaton yields. Biiiiiiig boom

And good, but I'll hold you to that Boy Scout salute - I am still a Scout leader and I'll make you go visit the next troop and ask them for a long wait or a bucket of air or a pot of tartan paint. Don't test me

[U.P. Cinnabar]

I should be glad I'm not in the USN, or you'll be sending after Form India Delta One Zero Tango.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Most likely, yes

[fnord]

Enough Traveller references already! Or there will be retribution! I'll....I'll resurrect Franklin North via implausible time travel shenanigans...

... do you have my dunny bugged?

I answered a call of nature, did some musing, and only recently sat down to the above.

Let's see what E_F comes up with next.

[U.P. Cinnabar]

See PM. There simply cannot be any fictional death shittier than that.

[Eternal_Freedom]

I'll have Franklin North wind up in Texas and get shot in a drunken saloon fight!

[U.P. Cinnabar]

By a barefoot dark Jedi reduced to the degrading role of comic relief.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Yeah, that. Enough of this. I have no interest in Traveller and Franklin North remains a cloud of disassociated atoms floating around near Terra.

Any thoughts on the actual chapter?

[fnord]

When I'm more awake, I'll plow through it again.

[U.P. Cinnabar]

Yeah, that. Enough of this. I have no interest in Traveller and Franklin North remains a cloud of disassociated atoms floating around near Terra.

Any thoughts on the actual chapter?

My thoughts are upthread, but the Covies are fighting smart, instead of like brainless jihadis. Even if attrition and chaos weren't their intended goals, it certainly helps them along their intended goals. Smartly written, and makes me want more.

[Natzo]

Makes me wonder how the Infinity is doing with all the new technology. Ion cannons, enhances Super Macs, enhances nukes, Jump Drives and a whatever other tech they want to add.

[fnord]

Be interesting if the human mob manage to rumble exactly why the Covenant's overall operations have changed. Maybe a sardonic comment from one of the Kobolian skippers about seeming to attract enemies bent on genocide every third time they turn around. Yes, they did jump into this one, but after a while, that would become less relevant.

343 Guilty Spark... he was from the first Halo game, iirc. Rampant, too. Halo 04 firing at even reduced power would still pose an existential threat - if the action flags, I guess you can throw that in.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Jellicoe and Cole have a sort-of supposition of what the Hierarchs are up to, beginning their "Great Journey" which means firing the Array - they don't know that the Covenant know about the Portal or Installation 04 yet, or that they'll stumble into Installation 05 before too long which already has a Flood outbreak. They know Covenant scouts are heading for Installation 04 and a small fleet to Earth, but not why.

343 Guilty Spark wasn't rampant in the first game I think - he was just following his programming - if the Flood are released, find a Reclaimer and fire the weapon. Having said Reclaimer turn on him, refuse to fire the Ring, and then destroy it probably drove him over the edge.

I have plans for both him and his Ring, probably around Act 5, after the assault on Reach.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Something a little different for y'all

Quiet Reflections
Warstar Nemesis, Deep Space, Thirty Light-Years from Earth
0230 hours, 21st August 2552 (UNSC Military Calendar)

The massive ship was as quiet as she ever got. With the completion of the crude sensor grid they now would have at least twelve hours warning of any Covenant forces approaching the Inner Colonies, and that meant that the constant four hours on, four hours off combat watches could be stood down. At the moment, with about five hours until the small Covenant force heading for Earth reached their position, two-thirds of the crew were in their bunks, soundly asleep. The remaining third were waiting to be relieved so that they too could get some sleep before the next engagement.

Vice-Admiral Sir John Jellicoe was not technically on watch. As the Commander of the Alliance Forces, he was high enough up the chain of command that he didn’t have a duty watch to organise his days around, but he was kept busy in Fleet Ops enough of the time to keep him exhausted. Now, in the down-time between fights, he should have been in his quarters catching up on his own sleep. Every gram of logic and common sense he possessed was screaming at him to do just that thing, but he knew that short of going to the hospital and getting some pills from the stern-faced yet caring Chief Surgeon sleep would once again elude him this night.

It had happened before, during the Pegasus Campaign and a half-dozen times since, when the nightmares returned and sleep became a phantom that he chased but never caught. The same nightmares, showing him the Fall of the Colonies and the chaos and bloodshed that entailed. The ships of the Fleet powered down and helpless; ripped apart by Cylon nuclear strikes. His brother’s Battlestar disabled and crashing down into Caprica’s atmosphere before impacting a mountain range in a colossal fireball. The city where his wife and children had lived vanishing in the flare of a high-yield nuclear detonation. His former command, wrecked and lifeless, crashed onto the surface of an airless moon.

It was all happening again. Once again the Colonies were falling and he, despite commanding one of the most potent Fleets in known space, could not stop it. Millions of lives were ending in searing plasma impacts as city after city was wiped away and he was out here in deep space, reacting to the enemy assault because taking the initiative simply wasn’t possible at this point.

And so instead of sleeping, the weary Commander of the Alliance Fleet wandered the seemingly-endless halls of his flagship, nodding in greeting as crew and officers he passed came to attention and saluted his august presence. He had no particular destination in mind; he was simply wandering, making completely random and arbitrary decisions on which way to turn when he reached a junction.

With the ship being over three and a half kilometres long and nearly a kilometre wide and tall, there were tens of thousands of possible compartments he might wind up in. But instead of a weapons battery, or a sensor array, or one of the medical decks or the hangers or the engineering spaces, he found himself, quite by chance outside the ship’s Chapel. Possibly the only place on this ship that he hadn’t been since he’d hoisted his flag aboard her at the start of the Pegasus Campaign.

He had never been a religious man. He didn’t really care if there were Gods and Goddesses looking down on them, he didn’t think that prayer was a helpful thing in any circumstance and he found the entire idea of ritual offerings and sacrifices to be ludicrous. But he had always kept his tongue on such matters, because those were simply his views and he really couldn’t speak for anyone else. If others wanted to believe then good for them.

All of that had changed slightly in the last few years however. The Terrans had a curious perspective on religion – the question of whether the Lords of Kobol existed was not a matter of faith but historical record. Whether they were divine and should be worshipped, or were simply advanced beings that should be admired and respected was about as far as religious discourse went on Terra.

But then had come that day. In the immediate aftermath of the Battle of Atlantis, when the Wraith were annihilated, he and a handful of other had stood in the city’s Control Room and spoken with two of the Lords, Prometheus and Athena – or Janus and Morgan le Fay, depending on which set of names you preferred. He, a convinced atheist, had met two of the Gods. And they had told him to tell the Children of Kobol that they were pleased.

Such a thing had not been possible to keep secret of course, and no-one involved saw a need to keep it secret. But it had caused quite a stir on Terra when the news had returned. The Colonials in New Delphi had rejoiced, the Lords really were watching over them and attendance at the various Temples had skyrocketed. Even Admiral Adama had been seen sitting through a few sermons, though that may have had something to do with the presence of President Roslin beside him.

Among the Terrans there had been something of a religious renaissance, but the practices and dogma of the old Terran Churches had largely been discarded. That dogma preached that they must stay isolated on Terra and never seek out their wayward brothers and sisters, never explore the cosmos – and yet also spoke about how they would one day return to Paradise to destroy the Wraith.

Instead the Terrans had flocked to the Colonial temples to learn about their new faith, which was bolstered substantially by the knowledge that those they worshipped really did exist and really were watching them.

And in the middle of this was Admiral Jellicoe, who was the only Colonial to actually speak with the Lords in over two thousand years found himself being labelled as a Prophet, or a Saint, or a Messenger or Emissary. Those were names that had been flung about between the different sects, each one devoted to one of the Lords. Eventually, the Cult of Prometheus had won the unofficial fight for dominance and declared that he, John Jellicoe, an atheist and sometimes vocal critic of the negative effects of religion on Colonial society was the Harbinger of the Lords.

The Cult of Prometheus had felt that “Harbinger” sounded more appropriate for a legendary warrior.

John had found the entire argument vaguely sickening and had stayed out of it as best he could. But here, now, with them due to engage the enemy in only a few hours and most of the ship asleep, John felt that perhaps the Chapel was the place to go to sit and quietly reflect, which was as restful as he would likely get at the moment.

Unlike the Chapels on Colonial warships, the Warstar’s one was a sizeable room – one that had originally been used for far more pedestrian purposes. Not long after the Pegasus Campaign ended and the Terran religious revival was just beginning, the Priests of the Temple of Aurora in New Delphi had petitioned the Admiralty for permission to add a Chapel to the Warstar, saying that as the flagship of the Combined Fleet, it should reflect both Terran and Colonial attitudes, which meant a place to pray for those that believed. The Admiralty had decided it was a fairly harmless request that, at worst, would be even more good PR for the Navy.

And so, while the Warstar had been docked at Styx Base repairing her damage from the battles against the Wraith, a number of Priests had come aboard, selected a spare cargo bay deep within the central hull and set about converting it into a Chapel – complete with blessing the deckplates with holy water, installing an altar and consecrating the room with the ritual sacrifice of a lamb, which had then been taken away by the Wardroom cooks and prepared as a sumptuous feast for those who remained aboard.

The Chapel was a large space with a high ceiling and seating for newly two hundred people. The walls of the compartment were lined with paintings and murals displaying scenes from the Sacred Scrolls and other events from Colonial and Terran history, interspersed with niches dedicated to the individual Lords. The ceiling was painted with a single vast work that depicted the entire Pantheon – Zeus and his thunderbolts, Hera, Poseidon and his trident, Hades, Aphrodite, Apollo, Ares, Helios, Athena, Demeter, Heracles, Prometheus and Aurora. At the far bulkhead was the raised altar, covered in lit candles and holding a single huge copy of the Scrolls. To one side was the pulpit that the ship’s Chaplain, Brother Moreau preached from.

At this time of night, the place was surprisingly empty. A handful of crew were spread out between the various individual shrines, lighting candles and quietly praying to their chosen deity. None of them looked up as the Admiral passed, for rank did not matter in this holy place. Or rather, John’s military rank did not matter here, his unofficial position as Harbinger of the Lords would raise a few more eyebrows.

He approached the altar and bowed his head in respect. He still didn’t believe the Lords had created them and given them life or any of that, but he knew what they had done to contain that false vacuum collapse and saying the entire universe – that was something that deserved respect. His gesture completed, he sat down in the front pew and bowed his head, letting his mind wander in this peaceful place. He sat there for nearly half an hour until someone sat down next to him.

Jellicoe was all ready to rip the interloper a new asshole when he actually looked at him, only to find the open and caring face of Brother Moreau looking back at him.

“Welcome Admiral, I have not seen you in here before. What brings you to the Lords this night?”

Jellicoe snorted at the trite comment. “Does it really matter Brother? I am here now; surely that is what matters to a Priest.”

Ethan Moreau nodded. “It does matter Admiral. If I am to help or offer guidance than I have to know what ails you.”

Jellicoe looked away and buried his face in his hands, enough that Ethan only barely heard his reply. “Help and guidance…I’m leading one of the strongest Fleets ever assembled, in a war the Lords would barely even have conceived of, in another universe no less and you think they can offer me guidance? How do you know they can even hear you from another universe by the way?”

Ethan just smiled. “Of course they can hear us Admiral, they always do. Did they not hear you when you said during the Pegasus Campaign that you needed a way to destroy them all at once, and the Tau’ri just happened to have the needed equipment? When the weapon worked too well, did not the Lords hear and step in to limit the damage? They even appeared directly to warn you afterwards.”

Jellicoe shook his head, his face still hidden. “That was self-preservation Brother, nothing more. The weapon would have killed them as surely as it would have killed us. And as for them warning me, doesn’t anyone remember that plenty of others were in that control room? General O’Neill, Colonel Carter, Colonel Sheppard, Doctor Weir, Doctor McKay, Doctor Zelenka…I don’t see any of them being declared a Harbinger of the Lords or anything like that. Why was it me? Why is it always me that has to do this?” And here the tone shifted from annoyance to despair as the stubborn and dauntless Admiral finally admitted what was really on his mind.

“Why Ethan? Why is it me that has to carry this fight? I fought the Cylons, and the Wraith, and the Goa’uld and the Rebel Jaffa and the Lucian Alliance and now the Covenant. Nearly four years of constant warfare…I only go back out to fight because I have no home to return to, no family to embrace me…they’re all gone, Ethan, everyone’s gone. For four years I have fought these wars because there is nothing else left.”

Ethan placed a comforting hand on Jellicoe’s shoulder. “You fight, Admiral because it is who you are. Not because you have nothing else left, tragic though that is it isn’t a reason. You fight because you cannot bear to see the innocent suffer. From the rumours I have heard you said as much to the Presidents to get them on side. Something about swearing an oath, and standing against evil.”

There was a moment of silence as Jellicoe thought about it, and remembered that meeting when he, and to a lesser extent Admiral Adama had basically rammed the idea of helping the UNSC down the throats of those who had doubts. He supposed that answered his question, it was him that had to fight this particular war because it had been his idea.

“Standing against evil is never an easy thing to do. It is painful, and frequently violent and all too often fatal. But it is right Admiral. Evil has to be opposed. You remember the first lines to the Litany of Ares?”

Jellicoe shook his head. The Sacred Scrolls were long and frequently tedious, he had never even read them completely, never mind having passages memorised. But Brother Ethan Moreau had done so, for it was his calling.

“All that is needed for Evil to triumph is for good men to do nothing” Ethan recited. “Too many times in our history, both in the Colonies and on Terra we have ignored those words, and evil has flourished. Be honest with yourself Admiral, if you had stumbled across the Battle of Terra and the Cylon offensive, would have you have walked away, said it wasn’t your fight?”

Jellicoe sat bolt upright, his expression utterly furious. “Of course I frakking wouldn’t! What kind of question is that? Those toasters were there to obliterate an entire world, they had to be stopped!”

Ethan just nodded. “And the Wraith? You had a choice there, you could have stayed here, and if you hadn’t gone to fight the Excalibur may still have been in service, her crew still alive and breathing.”

Jellicoe’s anger dropped in temperature, going from hot-tempered rage at a painful question to a cold fury. “That’s a low blow Brother Moreau. The crew of the Excalibur knew what they were doing, what they risked. They made their choice.”

Moreau didn’t even blink at the Admiral’s tone. “So if they made their choice to stand against evil, as did the crews of the Barham and the Galactica at Terra…why do you sit here and question why it has to be you?”

Jellicoe’s ire cooled somewhat. “I’m just so tired of having to be the one on the front line.”

Ethan nodded in understanding. “You’re the one out on the front line Admiral, because you are the only one who can do this. Time and again you have taken this Fleet to battle against the forces of evil. Time and time again you have, to quote the last line of the Litany of Ares, done what is right and not what is easy. You’re out here because you chose to be.”

The Admiral opened his mouth to speak, but Moreau stopped him.

“You may be about to say that you’re out here because you have no home to return to, no family to embrace as you said earlier. But I do not believe that is true Admiral. You are here because you chose to be, because it is who you are to stand against evil. Just as you told the President, it really is that simple. Stamus Contra Malum, Admiral Jellicoe. I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”

The priest stood and walked away, only to stop when the Admiral called out.

“Brother Moreau…why are you here? You’re not here in a combat role, or a medic, or an engineer. Why are you here?”

The Priest stood a little straighter, his shoulders back and his head held high, it seemed as If he had suddenly grown six inches taller and he radiated an immense sense of dignity. His face also changed slightly, enough that Jellicoe had his suspicions confirmed.

“I am here to stand against evil, Admiral Jellicoe. Doing so takes many forms – the path of the warrior that you have chosen, the path of the healer that the Chief Surgeon and all his doctors have taken…and then there is my path. I will not pick up a weapon to fight the enemy Admiral, but I can help those who do.”

Jellicoe just nodded, and then he fixed the Priest with a powerful glare. “So who are you really?”

Ethan Moreau seemed to waver before him. “Who do you think I am Admiral?”

“I know you’re not Ethan Moreau. He and I have spoken on occasion, enough to know that you are not him. For one, you quoted the Litany of Ares, something Ethan Moreau would not do as he belongs to the Cult of Hera, not Ares. There is also the fact that according to the ship’s computer, Brother Ethan Moreau is currently in the hospital getting a sprained ankle fixed after he tripped down the stairway during the last combat alert.”

“Ethan” simple smiled beatifically at Jellicoe. “So who do you think I am then, John Jellicoe?”

The Admiral almost snarled in anger. “I’d say you’re one of the Lords or their Ascended fellows, here to check up on me.”

Moreau’s form wavered once again, the face shifted and the robes changed into the same outfit Jellicoe had seen once before. Instead of a Priest, before him stood the Lord Prometheus – or the Ancient Janus if you preferred.

“I am not your enemy John Jellicoe, every word I said to you earlier was true. The Lords hear you, the Lords are watching you. And while I cannot lift a weapon to destroy these Covenant you face…I can help those that do. You are on the right path Admiral, even if you do stumble here and there. But be warned, there is a greater evil stirring in the darkness, beyond those you face now.”

“The Flood, Dying Light warned us about them and how dangerous they can be.”

Janus shook his head. “No Admiral, not the Flood but rather their creators…and the creators of the Wraith as well. The Eternal Cycle I spoke of in Atlantis makes another revolution.”

Jellicoe’s anger had returned. “You told us that we’d broken the cycle.”

Janus looked down in sorrow. “I truly believed you had. But the Flood and the Wraith, their creation shows that this Cycle is not what we thought, that the enemy is not hubris and pride but something else…something darker. There is evil stirring in the shadows Admiral Jellicoe, and even I do not know what it is – only that is awakening once again. It will come for you and Terra and Earth and everyone else. I do not know how long, but it is coming for you.”

Janus’ form began to fade out slowly, becoming almost transparent as he finished his speech. Jellicoe was still angry and hurriedly spoke before the chance was lost.

“What can we do? How can we fight this?”

“That question is the answer you sought when you came into this Chapel tonight Admiral Jellicoe. That is why you fight, because it is in your nature to stand against evil. When the time comes, you will face this threat…for you are our Harbinger.”

The Lord faded from view entirely. Jellicoe looked around and was pleased to see he was alone, the last thing he wanted was for news of this to get spread around. His mind was whirling at the possibilities of this new threat…and that was when he realised what Lord Prometheus had done.

The nightmares that were always there just behind his eyes had faded, replaced with the possible futures ahead. But with the possible futures, there was a chance that he could prevent them, unlike the nightmares that were of events long passed. His question had indeed been answered.

With that realisation, Jellicoe decided to return to his quarters and succumb to the bone-deep exhaustion he felt. Maybe this time he would awaken feeling refreshed. He glanced up at the painting of the pantheon on the ceiling, specifically at the painting of Prometheus. It looked nothing like the actual Lord, but Jellicoe saw the painted face shift for a moment, as the image smiled encouragingly at him.

Admiral John Jellicoe walked out of the Chapel with his head held high. He had a war to fight.

============

A little more character stuff for Jellicoe, Janus makes another appearance, and more hints are dropped about the Greater Scope Villain. Mwahaha.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Ghetto edit/update: For those counting, I've filled the last 4 Heavy Cruiser names for the UNSC with the Una Salus Victus, Para Bellum, Who Dares Wins and Against All Odds. THe six Heavy Carriers are the Atlas, Dawn Under Heaven, Hugh Dowding, Takeo Kurita, Baron von Richtofen and Eternal Freedom. I'll still have 18 light carriers without names, and 25 light cruisers, so if anyone wants a character and a ship name, PM me and I'll work it in.

Also, as I've already said the Covenant Fleet strength is currently 2500 ships or thereabouts, broken down as follows:

20x CSO supercarriers – Long Night of Solace, Unending Reverence, Hammer of Wrath, Implacable Devotion, Triumph of the Will, Ascendant Justice
160x CAS Assault Carriers – Blight of the Profane, Incorruptible, Chainbreaker, Oathsworn, Solemn Penance, Day of Jubilation
300x DDS Light Carriers
600x CCS Battlecruisers
600x Destroyers
800x frigates

Long Night of Solace, Ascendant Justice, Solemn Penance and Day of Jubilation are all from the games or the books, though I have amde the Ascendant Justice a supercarrier instead of a light carrier. If you've got suggestions for names, please PM them to me rather than posting them here. I don't need to name all the Covenant heavy ships, obviously, but having a pool of names will be useful.

[U.P. Cinnabar]

Brilliant passage, nice character sketch of Jellicoe.

[U.P. Cinnabar]

Other light cruiser names: Tears Of Niobe, Power Of Righteousness , Retribution's Sword, Legionnaire Of Cinnabar, Hecate's Horse, Vengeance Of Harvest, Speaker For the Fallen, Avenging Spirit.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Other light cruiser names: Tears Of Niobe, Power Of Righteousness , Retribution's Sword, Legionnaire Of Cinnabar, Hecate's Horse, Vengeance Of Harvest, Speaker For the Fallen, Avenging Spirit.

All good names, though I may well use some of them as Covenant ships since I think some of them fit the Covvie themes better.

[U.P. Cinnabar]

The second and the third one especially.

[Eternal_Freedom]

Indeed, though Avenging Spirit would work nicely as a Covvie ship too.

[jayel]

light cruiser or light carrier "Cowpens"

[U.P. Cinnabar]

Gambler Bay. Holding off on other suggestions til I skim Halopedia.

EDIT:Another light cruiser or carrier name:Clavileno

[Eternal_Freedom]

On an unrelated note, I've been having fun updating the TVTropes page with such delightful entries as More Dakka and One-Hit Kill. Nerdism levels are approaching ten to the twelth power.