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Project Omega by Commander Valois
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Prologue
Date: 5 November 2007, 3:43 am
"ATTENTION. LIFESIGNS DETECTED. HANGAR BAY 7." Two human-like figures were running down a dark corridor. The sound of their shoes pounding on the metal grates below them filled the corridor with sound. Their chests were pounding, and their lungs were gasping for air. The lights above them flickered, revealing parts of their Naval Uniforms. One of the two, which appeared to be a woman, was wearing a light gray uniform and had three gold bars on her shoulders. The second, which appeared to be a man, was wearing a similar uniform, with the exception that his left arm was stained a dark crimson color. Something was behind them, for load moaning noises outsounded their breathing. It was at this point were something dragged the man to the ground. Only the flashes from a silver object in the woman's hand saved the man from becoming one of these things. The man got to his feet, drew his side-arm, and began firing down the corridor from which these grotesque creatures were trailing them. "What are you doing? Come on, we're almost to the hangar!" Yelled the woman. "Go! I'm buying time for you to get out of here! He wants you, not me. Go!" The woman nodded, and continued running down the corridor. "Get some! Get some!" Shouted the man as he shot one creature after another. A frightened look came upon the man's face when he pulled the trigger of his firearm and all he heard was a *click*
Having no other option, he pulled a gray object from his back pocket, pushed a button, and from it emerged a bright-blue blade. Swing after swing, he cut down anything who tried to get passed him, for his life was not the only one on the line. The creatures were persistant, one by one they charged towards the man, and one by one they were met with energy emitting from the sword. It felt like hours, Stabbing, slashing, hacking, and swinging. At one point he thought he would collapse due to sheer exhaustion. He was about to throw in the towel when a voice began speaking, and as it did, the creatures stopped in their tracks-"Why do you fight on? Nothing you do can stop me from holding my only daughter once more! Accept defeat now, and you shall be allowed a quick and painless death!" This disgusted the man. "Show yourself coward, so that I can personally send you to hell!" Once he finished, something began to manifest itself right before his eyes..."Very well, have it you're way..."
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Two Days Earlier...
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Two Broadsided vessels were locked together. Cannon fire wreaked havoc aboard the opposing vessel's hull. Musket fire contributed to the chaos by unleashing deadly volleys on the unfortunate men at the end of their sights. September 23, 1779. The HMS Serapis was in a bitter engagement with the USS Bonhomme Richard off Flamborough Head. The fighting had been going on for hours when one of the crew members on the Richard offered to surrender to the better armed British frigate. Captain Richard Pearson of the Serapis asked the Richard-"Quarters? Quarters? Do you strike?" John Paul Jones, Captain of the Richard threw his pistol at the crew member that offered the surrender, and replied with "I may sink, but I'm damned if I'll strike!"
Commander Valois, of the Sol Defence Group 3/A5, was cursed every night by this dream. Was it his ship? The newly constructed Bonhomme Richard was a gift to him from the UNSC for his services during the Human-Covenant war. Furthermore, the dreams began occuring two years ago, same time as he was given command of the Richard, so it could be possible. Or maybe it was the fact that Jones' blood ran thru his veins. Whatever it was, it prevented him from getting a full nights sleep, which in turn effected his performance as a Naval officer.
4:30 Standard Military Time.
Valois was woken by a knocking sound at his cabin door.
"Commander, you're needed on the bridge."
"Give me ten-minutes and I'll be there." replied the half awake Commander.
"Aye sir."
He got out of bed, got dressed, then made his way towards the bridge of his frigate.
On the way there he noticed Pelicans were bringing personnel up from the surface of the moon they were orbiting. He also noticed that men were scrambling to their duty stations. The walk to the bridge was over, and the doors opened with a *whoosh*.
"ATTENTION ON DECK!" shouted one of the Lieutenants on the bridge.
"At ease. Whats the situation?"
"Sir, Lord Hood has ordered us to return to Earth for briefing."
"Already? We have only just begun our excavation."
"Sorry Sir, but Hood ordered us and another vessel to return."
"Whats the other vessel?"
"Hood didn't tell us much more then that Sir, classified."
"Classified? *sigh* Lieutenant, set course: 34824-27483 Sol-System."
"Setting course, 34824-27483 Aye Sir."
Classified...
Welcome Home...
Date: 10 November 2007, 1:20 am
The sea was calm. On the horizon, four American Naval Vessels, one of which being the USS Brooklyn, were cutting thru the crystal blue ocean water. The wind began to pick up, and clouds appeared from nowhere. Rainwater had begun to gently sprinkle upon the decks of the convoy. The calm, crystal blue ocean water turned a dark blackish color. An American hero, was returning home...
"Valois? Valois."
A soft voice rang in his ears...
"Valois!"
The soft voice had become a loud yell. Startled, the Commander leapt to his feet. His vision was distorted, the room seemed to sway back and forth. After a few seconds, he realized what had occured. He had fallen asleep in his chair during the short slip-space travel, and now had to face the embarrassment of the action. The voice had woken him was that of a woman over the COMM systems. At first he did not recognize the woman, but when she spoke, his memory caught up with him.
"Valois, still embarrassing yourself in front of other people? Some things never change do they?" asked the woman over the COMM systems.
Struggling to keep his eyes open, the Commander sat back down, then asked in a scratchy tone of voice:
"What? I thought you were dead."
The woman began laughing.
"Dead? Who told you that?"
The Commander cleared his throat, then replied in all seriousness:
"Staff Sergeant Avery Johnson..."
The woman stopped laughing. An uncomfortable silence came across the two of them. In an effort to change the subject, the woman asked the Richardfor ID numbers and confirmation codes.
"Bonhomme Richard, this is Commander Miranda Keyes of the Sol defence group 2B/7. Please send ID numbers and confirmation codes for verification."
Valois then patched a series of numbers and letters into a computer screen on his chair.
"Doing so...Done. ID numbers and confirmation codes sent."
The Richard was forced to go on standby while awaiting verification from the home fleet, for if his ship got any closer, the cluster of Orbital Defence Platforms would determine the Richard as an unidentified vessel, therefor opening fire when in range. About a minute passed when a voice over the COMM system broke the silence by stating:
"Verification complete, prepare for docking with the Moscow. Welcome home."
The Moscow was an Orbital Defence Platform commissioned on May 14, 2547. She proved her worth during the Human-Covenant war, more specifically, the Second battle of Earth, when she accumulated thirteen Covenant loyalist ship kills. Now however, she was far from her former glory. The station was in moderate disrepair, and was to be decommissioned the following week. The Richard was to be one of the last vessels to have the honor of docking with her. What amazed him was not the station, but the planet it was orbiting. Earth. He hasn't seen her in years. The sight of the blue mass in the distance sent a farm, fuzzy feeling thru his body. I'm home.
Docking sequence was one of the most annoying tasks in the galaxy. Text-book precision maneuvers were the only things acceptable to the UNSC while docking. Screw-up, and you'll be Commanding officer aboard the UNSC Latrine for the rest of your life. 40% of preventable hull/armor damages that occure in space are caused by improper docking procedure and failure to slow speed on approach. Caution was a major factor in preventing these blunders...
"Moscow to Richard, you are cleared for docking in bay two. Slow speed to ten-thousand knots."
"Understood. Richard slowing speed to ten-thousand knots."
The Commander waved his hand at one of the men on the bridge who, clearly understanding the order, pulled a small lever at his station. With the lever being pulled, the frigate began to lose speed at an extraordinary rate. Orders were orders... Ten-minutes later, with a loud boom, the frigate and Orbital Station were securly locked together.
Music began to play on the radio as they docked.
The Commander realized that the music playing was of old Earth "rap" music, something his mother sang to him as a child. The music put a smile on almost every face aboard the frigate.
"Watch me supersoak dat ohhh!"
The music began to fade away.
"Welcome home, welcome home. Givin' a shout out to the UNSC Bonhomme Richard, whos crew has been in space for over four years. Four years people! Can you believe that? Well stay tuned, we have more old-skool music for Humanity and... any others that may be listening.
96.721-Serving the troops and sailors for over thirty years."
It was a USO radio-station transmitting from the Moscow. The crew of the Richard knew they were home. From the Commander's point of view, they all looked eager to get to the surface and see their family and friends.
The Commander however, had other priorities. Whilst the crew thought of this as a recreational visit, the sole purpose of their return was to be directly briefed by FleetCommand. He figured they were not worried due to the fact that the crew were not authorized to be briefed, which they used as an excuse...
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