The Plaza was filled, most of the occupants standing in neat rows at attention. The winds had died down for once, a calm, clear day for the ceremony. It had been a somewhat rushed affair, one of Golanski's ideas; Jeremy Hunter was one of the few agents left from the original Nomad War, and one of the longest serving Agents still breathing. Golanski had decided, in memoriam of his achievements and longevity of service, to name the newest high mark of service.
Hunter's Service Mark.
Jeremy had returned from his position in Coronado, from his planning and wars and some of the blackest ops Liberty would ever imagine. But today, it was fanfare. Flattery. His family sat in the few rows of chairs offered, his wife, his wards. His kids. The only ones who he lacked was his mother. Sitting there, not at all caring that he was dressed normally, and not in uniform...well, he hated it. He was a warrior, not a politician. His ways of words worked, but he preferred action. Action that was marred with bureaucracy. Fiddling with his PDA, little care for what transpired, he only seemed to pay attention near the end of the speeches. Standing and finally accepting the award, he stood before the podium...then removed about five pieces of paper.
"Anyone else wishing to give me a speech?" He asked, before tossing them aside. He hated being told what to say. It was his life. No one elses.
"Hero is a name given to the dead. We can have hero complexes, messiah complexes, and wish to be a hero. But the real heroes are those who never made it back. Those who gave the ultimate price for humanity. This award can mean many things. Maybe, it means I am a coward." He paused. "It does not matter how long your service is. It does not matter your birth, your creed, your beliefs or your choices . This is the defining moment of the Order. Do not look to have a service award. Look to having a normal life. A farm. A company. A small shop. This award is sorrow. It means we have not won." He paused. "It means you survived a long war. A sorrowful war. It means humanity is ever endangered. I implore everyone listening, to take this to heart.
These awards only mean we have not won. It means we still are fighting."
That was when the sounds of launchers roared. From rooftop lanced missiles, aiming for the stage. Jeremy looked up, and reacted; hands thrown out, Michael and the front rows were thrown...but the missiles struck. The stage was torn apart. Michal Golanski was thrown on the heels of the explosions.
The rest of the Overwatch General Assembly, and Admiral Jeremy Hunter, we're engulfed a gout of fire and shrapnel.
2 hours after the incident
Akabat northern hemisphere
Lieutenant Commander Hoss ran across a rocky plateau. Rid of all of his heavy battle garment to relieve himself of extra weight, he speeded on ahead of pursue. Short of breath he tried to piece together in his head every factor that had lead to this catastrophy. He had trusted in his commanding officer's prowess to get his men though to the end. They were beaten by unknown assaillants at the Akabat's planetary defense command center and he has been on the run ever since - without aim - merely doing his best to survive in this suddenly hostile world. No ammount of at times traumatic physical training that The Order special forces subjected themselves to could prepare anyone for that. There were after all, limits of human bodies that he himself pushes to no avail. He had to stop.
Leaning against a tree in attempt to catch a breather, he looked with panic and disbelief towards where he came. At background of the horizon, he could see his pursuit: the very same soldiers that came out on his unit in what it seemed to be lifetime ago now. Some of The Order's other military outfits he reckoned. They were walking slowly yet steady towards him, trailing behind him at march's pace. Judging them to be more than kilometer away, it mattered little as the highlands offered visual range he could hardly evade. In his heart he knew it would be the end yet his instincts urged him to go on. So he ran again.
They found him later, his back towards a big rock that served to him as temporary hide out and cover from the elements. As if sentient, the winds especially here started to howl like blood thirsting phantoms. Their weapons were lowered, they knew he was unarmed. They carried water, food, communications and enough munitions to starve them off in a firefight thrice as long it took to dispatch his former unit. Hoss could only watch the figures coming to him. Recognizing one face among them, he knew he was done for. As good day to die as any.
Said person kneeled in front of him, gun at the laps and bottle of water in the hand. "So... Commander Hoss it is. You are coming with us." Why they had not sniped him outright was a mystery. Did they wanted to torture him for the sustained ressistance, injuries and deaths of her comrades? "Valkyrie... I should've known your Reaper..." Knife lodged in his shoulder interrupted his attempt to blacklist her past she was personally proud of. "You will speak only when asked towards to. Traitors to mankind should've been killed on sight but you're more useful to us alive." Valkyrie moved the knife in his wound to left and right, causing more pain to the captive. "You will sing everything you know about the coup and I will ensure that you'll live though it. Not held in highest regard but that's better than what gruesome end we can subject you to." He believed her words at the very least. His knowledge is the only thing that he can desperately cling to, the only guarancy of his pathetic traitor life.
"Medic!" Valkyrie removed her knife, cleaning both sides at Hoss uniform before sheathing it. One of her subordinates carrying radio centrale big enough to propably to punch though signals anywhere in Omicron Mu and beyond informed her that recovery freighter is inbound to their location. By chance, he could hear two callsigns unknown to him, though troubling these officers. Did Morghart made it?
Colonel Forge had been overseeing Drydock status when the Fort shook violently. A flight of Sekhmets completed a pass, banking. Forge scowled. "Status!"
"Colonel! We have...o...oh god."
Forge snapped the feed to his screen. Stoically, he watched Admiral Hunter engulfed in flames, and Golanski thrown far by the explosions. Overwatch was gone.
"I am initiating Overwatch Protocol Series MALACOS. WATCHTOWER will coordinate with Inquisitor in charge and stabilize the Order. Move us from drydock, launch all fighters. Contact Commander Morris, he should be on duty."
"Bringing him online now sir!"
The screen snapped on, fuzzy and static filled. The comms dish had even hit. "Colonel, Carthage is holding, but we have mutiny on all decks! We need reinforcements! I can't get through to Overwatch!"
"Overwatch is gone. Myself and whichever Inquisitor -"
"Valkyrie, sir, is moving out."
"Valkyrie are taking control until the crisis is over." Svizra cleared to dock, it's defense guns opening up on the bombers. They broke formation, to their demise; Bastet Interception Wings descended upon them like wolves. Forge sat in the command seat, as Svizra turned towards the Mu jump hole.
"Sir, I'm getting a E-Band transmission...Call signs "Joyeuse" and "Nasril" have taken control of Mu Defense Assets. A third callsign, Cortana, has assumed Control of Thebes."
Three unidentified allies. As shadowy as they come.
Like Tawaret.
Like Amduat.
"Commence jump." He ordered.
Akabat
Aftermath
A grizzly lowered down, hanging over the burning stage, the side opening. The man stood poised and straight, emissary of his leader. "I am Crux! We, the Legion of Steel, have purified the echelons that became corrupt, complacent. Ineffective. Today is a new day of vict-"
The grizzly was rended asunder by a Hathor, the jet black gunship decloaking behind him. Giza defense vessels already were filling the skies, meeting rebel ships in combat. The city became a battleground, as a Nephthys crashed into Overwatch HQ and laid still, burning amidst the rubble of the old.
Station Pryde, Akabat Southern Hemisphere
It was two hours since then. WEDJAT units from Citadel Babylonia had laid siege to the taken station, trapping Commander Milli Garson and her Steel Legion within. But as WEDJAT Shock Troopers already were beginning to penetrate her defenses, she was faced with a new problem.
Morghart was gone.
And with their leader missing...Garson was soon defeated by demoralized troops, and not superior numbers.
"This is SCARAB One. Pryde has been reclaimed."
"This is Foehammer. Joyeuse and Nasril will be notified."
Several figures sat in half lit room with a table at its center. Cables and various pieces of equipment were laying about the ground, connecting makeshift assets that its denizens had required to work here. Several individuals were seated, some present only as holographic projection as they could not attend in person. One of them was Valkyrie, still wearing combat armor of an Order marine, still basted in dust of Akabat unrelenting wildlands. Most of them hardly looked more coherent: almost every single other individual present presented outfit from different sections that made up The Order. Research and Development, intelligence and Black Fleet were all represented in these nameless personas. Few of them Valkyrie knew, eyeing them with care as she did not understood their motives.
"Impressive work, Miss Valkyrie..." Bretonian voice spoke to her, rather impressed by her actions. Claidheamh as he called himself sounded honest to her ears, he hid not that he took an opportunity he might had not gotten otherwise. Nevertheless his interests aligned with survival of human race... "Testimony of Hoss gave us plenty of light on operations of the Legion. They had been beaten entirely within Order space thanks to efforts of us all." Claidheamh insisted it was victory, though they knew the price of it. The entire Admiralty board had been taken out of action, prompting the councillors to take steps towards re-establishing order. They were the Consuls, claiming to forge Overwatch anew according to original intentions of its forefathers.
"As I promised, I managed to get hold of information that you had requested... Inquisitor." Consul Curtana spoke with obvious pain in her voice - deeply affected by aftermatch of the coup more so than others - as new communication link established to their hide out. Another unknown face to Valkyrie, introduced as Consul Blackyfire. "It seems General Assembly is growing by the hour." Valkyrie commented, looking towards Consul Narsil who she knew was one of the first ones among here... suspiciously fast to her. "We are quite busy salvaging this mess... I got hold of medical records. Admiral Hunter was killed instantly... and Admiral Golanski suffered failure to his augmentations even when stabilized. Medics did what they could but these electronics are out of our area of expertese!" Blackfyre was one among them who went out to direct effort to restore semblance of normality, incidentally closest to facility that took victims of Crux's assault.
She was not the only outsider here. Watchtower initiative had their own man attend the meeting, as she was here on behalf of the Inquisitors. Respectively men and women of Admiral Hunter's and Golanski's... their personnal small armies bereft of their commanders in chief. She did not knew the man, neither did he had any credible intel on her: left hand doesn't know what right one does. He did raised some good points. "What about the prisoners? Their leader, dangerous as he is, also at large escaped our effort to capture him." Morghard deffinately left the Order space, neither hiding or counted amongst captured or dead. Nasril voiced his own suggestion "Kill them all. They have already proven their lack of loyalty. We wont have any use of them."
"As much as I am inclined to agree with you that no deed should remain unpunished, I do not believe that death should be dealth lightly. Gift of life can only be taken away, forever." Claidheamh spoke, with utmost seriousness and stern. "I am not a warrior like you or Valkyrie here present, true and thus I leave combat to those with not only the tenacity to carry out such atrocities but skill to perform such." He turned his sight towards the Inquisitor present, looking for something in her face. "Inquisitor Valkyrie. The Order lacks an officer to rally behind. As part of the covenant between the Convocation of Consuls and the Fleet we desire to offer you a certain proposition... you shall be among those who take Admiral's responsibilities for the time being. Then, you shall sentence the traitors and when it is done... you have to find and kill Inquisitor Morghart."
"Agreed, for so long you release Admiral Golanski into my care."
Curtana's armored boots echoed on the floor, a the only sound in the silence. Most of the personnel on base were asleep or quietly winding down from the day, but she was moving. Past lab after lab, through the hulk of the re-purposed Resheph, to the elevator. Inside, the crystals above warmed, bathing her in multicolored light before the panel lit up blue. Pressing the floor she wished for, she was shot downwards, within moments arriving at her destination. Stepping off, Curtana made her way to her personal lab. Deep below the facility was HADES RAZGRIZ, the Wedjat Facility built here in the north. Further below them was Deep Quarantine, where everything they didn't trust would be placed, trapped beneath multiple Order facilities and mountains upon mountains of ice and rock. Standing in the quiet laboratory, she reached up as her helmet hissed and clicked, pulling it free. She shook her hair out, before setting it down on the main console. Even with the climate controlled at a comfortable degree, she still felt cold. Looking at the helmet she had worn since the Legion of Steel incident she took a good, long look at it. Running a hand over the visor, she once more lifted it up, but did not replace it. Turning, she headed for the locker room, where Curtana set it down. Stepping over to the PARR Station, she turned and stepped inside, arms out. The armor locked into the PARRS, and soon it was pull off. Stepping out, clad only in panties and a tank top, she yelped as her feet touched the floor. The heater for the floors had conked out again. Hopping over to a locker, she quickly tugged out socks and hopped more, getting them on with a gasp. Shaking her head, now able to stand normally, she tugged out her clothes and began to get dressed. Warm pants, jacket. Heavy boots. She took one more look at the helmet...then walked it over to the station, feeding it to the machine and watching it, too, be taken away. She turned and tugged a beanie from the locker, before closing it. She briefly ran her hand over the name, then went back to the main, tugging a lab coat on.
The door hissed open mere moments after she keyed the holotable. Captain Declan Morrison stepped out, followed by Commander Jonas Ward, his XO. The two were both Order Marines, leaders of the security detachment of Razgriz Straits...and both paused. "...Ma'am." Declan said, saluting. Jonas followed suit, with Curtana leaning over the table still.
>>ENTER AUTHORIZATION
-Until men united wield a hallowed saber
>WORKING
>
>
>>WELCOME TO RAZGRIZ STRAITS, DIRECTOR HUNTER
"At east." Ellie Hunter said. "What brings you here?"
"...the armory marked power armor returning from this locker, ma'am. We were uncertain of who would be returning armor from this room." Declan shifted, adjusting his hat. "You can understand our confusion." He looked uneasy. Ellie nodded, hands flying over the keyboard. The table glowed, showing the current project she was working on - SNOW WHITE. Declan and Jonas frowned, watching as the simulation collapsed again. Ellie chewed her lip, hands working more and more.
"I understand. But the loss of the Kusanagi lies solely on myself. I have hidden within that armor for years now, hiding from everything. It has gotten to me. I cannot be Curtana any longer. I cannot be false any longer. If I am to succeed, if I am to work these damn power cells and start making our own, start moving the Order away from dependency on H-Fuel altogether, from fuel, I can unshackle us from any and all who may wish to cut off our fuel source, who may wish to ensure we do not have the ability to protect humanity from anywhere. It started with STORM COVE, and continues with SNOW WHITE. But if we are to succeed, to grow, we must work. And if I am to do my best...I cannot hide behind a mask. Waiting for terrorists in Gallia to answer Lelouch, stressing over how. What am I even doing? I am Ellie Hunter, Director of the OSD. My little sister helped create Thebes herself, and here I am failing. No, it is time I worked. It is time I did something right, and goddammit I'm going to make the Jeanne D'Arc able, make it worthy. I am going to make it my best of work, and by God, my best means nothing behind a mask."
Declan and Jonas were taken back. Eyes wide, they could only watch with ignorant confusion as the computer brought up the schematics they had put together from hull mapping scans of the former Battleship Eglantine. Stylus in hand, other hand sweeping, she moved and twisted the model, pulling and placing components with a zeal.
"...We will leave it to you, ma'am." Declan saluted, followed by Jonas, before the two entered the elevator once more. Leaving her alone, Lab 001 seemed far bigger than it really was, as she worked. For her, it was but minutes in the lab, deep below the icy mountains of the northern regions of Akabat.
But it was hours. Hours spent on the Valor, working out the power grid, the reactor, interface. The failure of Kusanagi had done what had been needed to be done for a long time.
Give the scientist the kick she needed.
First would come Jeanne D'Arc. Then? Then would come more.
The only thing needed for the triumph of evil, is that good men do nothing.
And she was tired of doing nothing.
"Kairi."
The dedicated AI pad glowed, displaying the young facsimile of Rika. "Yes, Ellie?"
"Create new Project File. Copy all data from the Kusanagi Incident into it. Furthermore, copy any and all information obtained from further tests regarding Project SNOW WHITE into this project, as well as any and all information from Doctor Sullivan's research into the IRG Power Cell given to him on Alexandria. Furthermore, I want simulations run regarding the power output of an IRG cell within a CV-1 Osiris."
"Director, if I may. The next generation CV-1s are currently being finalized for production, starting with the lead ship - Jerusalem. Battleships Solomon and Tel Aviv are currently slated behind it, though their finalizations are to be determined. Once Jerusalem is finished, we should run them in tandem."
Ellie tapped her chin with the stylus. While by appearance the CV-1 and CV-1 Horus Package looked identical, the insides were a massive overhaul, using the latest technology from the Order. Ellie swiped her hand across the screen, putting SNOW WHITE on hold.
"Label Project as HEAVENSWARD. Set to standby. Open new Refit Project. Commence recall of Oathkeeper to Fort Carthage. Based on CV-1 MK...whatever plans, to upgrade it from a base Osiris will require a month of work at present. If we can finish the refits for SNOW WHITE we can then put those crews into the overhaul and cut it down by thirty percent."
"Why not scrap the Oathkeeper on total, ma'am?"
"Because." She said softly. "There is history. My history. Seth's. Rika's. Jeremy's. That Osiris has seen battle across the galaxy, as gone through the Battle for Toledo, the Fall of Minor. It has been one of the staunchest survivors. If we can overhaul it to a CV-1 MK whatever, then we can do it again."
"...what will be the project name, ma'am?" Kairi sighed. "Whatever" yes, such....descriptive language for a scientist.
Project...Ultima."
![[Image: Dome_o%27_Light.png]](https://www.halopedia.org/images/9/91/Dome_o%27_Light.png)
![[Image: jeremy10.png]](http://i40.servimg.com/u/f40/16/80/35/65/jeremy10.png)