Halo: Reach's Promise

The Covenant Find Reach-

   July 24th 2552-
   Ensign Lenard sat  at his desk, watching the clock for the end of his shift. The Zealot's Bane, an unusual name for humans, so he thought, was a human Prowler deployed on the edge of Reach's orbit. The Prowler, along with many others, were there as orbital defenses against the Covenant on Reach. The brass told them they shouldn't expect engagement for another year, and that's why he took this job. if  the Covenant found them, it would be on accident, and with all this firepower, they could take out the spacecraft without any reports relaying back to their fleet; and it eliminates the chances that it could bug out before getting demolished. After that, he could request to be deployed back to Earth or one of the Inner Colonies. Even if the Covenant did find them and the UNSC started calling in reinforcements, they were contractually obligated to send him back if  the Covenant sent a small task force or a lone scout, and if  they didn't send any Intel revealing the location of Reach. The last one was the biggest if  there was, however. 

   The Ensign sat up and looked out the the window, studying the first wall of the Orbital defense, and felt confidant that they were going to do just fine with just a task force. He looked around the square bridge of Zealot's Bane, large enough for about ten pelicans to fit, and saw that everyone else was busy either on their tacpads/commpads, or their Holo-screened monitors; tracking frequencies, movement, mass-to-gravitational disturbances, comm lines, and a lot of other stuff he knew nothing about. 

   Lenard's job for the ship was relatively easy, considering everyone jobs were Spec level bs he didn't understand. Lenard wasn't exactly the best in his class, but he was a a born strategist. He excelled in Geometry, so naturally, he was Weapons officer, the one who called the shots; literally, in fact. His C.O. usually never questioned his tactics, for he knew that it always seemed to turn out positive for them.

   "A half-watch, unit One!" The overcom sounded, breaking the steady line of tapping from pads and the mute of all the officers. 

   The Ensign looked behind his shoulder at the middle of the room where the Captain sat, eyes red and wide open, well past the point where he felt sleep deprived, much like Lenard himself. The Captain noticed Lenard after his mistake of holding his gaze too long, and awkwardly nodded in Lenard's direction. Lenard returned the nod, and looked back at his screen. 

   "Gentlemen, do you think you can handle the shift changes without me?" The Captain, his voice heavy with effort, broke the three and a half hours of silence. Many confirmations from all the officers made Lenard's brain hurt; he wasn't prepared for all the voices at once. He saw some of the others wince as well, but the Captain, a tall slender man who was mid-fiftys with green eyes and no hair, a five o'clock shadow slowly taking over his face; only nodded. "Good, wake me in two and a half singles. Hold out just three more days, and the crew will officially be changed, remember. After that, you've got two whole months to deploy on Reach, but be warned; you will be on stand-by. Dismissed." The Captain gave his usual motivational speech he gives at the end of every personnel change; or, the last time he would see that particular shift, as in this case. He got up and walked out of the Bridge to the Captain's quarters. Two minutes later, the annoyed looking Lieutenant-Commander Junior grade Sanders, a pseudo rank created only for non-commissioned Captains sleep hours, sat down in the chair; checking over all the ships systems to see if they were nominal. Satisfied, he put the statpad down and looked around the room. 

   The Ensign looked over the ships weapons systems and saw that they were all normal. He again went back to convincing himself that all was going to be alright. He sat in silence until something startling shook him.

   "Sir, incoming signatures! Too large to be human, sir!" A female Lieutenant; Lieutenant Stark, reported quickly as if someone were rushing her.  

   "What? Are you sure?" Sanders asked with a strained voice. He was obviously trying to keep his cool, and that was difficult when you were tired and prone to make irrational decisions.

   "Yes sir, unmarked signat- three more just exited slipspace! Sir, ten more!" She said, raising her tone at the news.

   "Sound the alarm! The Covenant have found Reach!" The Ensign knew it to be true; a task force didn't consist of fourteen Battle cruisers. But he didn't want to believe it!

   He looked down at his set of sensors, and found that it was true...a task force didn't consist of...thirty battle cruisers. And they were still multiplying by the second! 

 By the time the ships alarms were going off, there were already seventy-eight. 

   "Report! Defense Alpha-One! Positions!" The ship started lurching laterally, aligning with the surface of the planet, the ship covering as much area as possible to block stray shots. Through the veiwport, he saw the other ships moving in concession with each other.

   Well, it was official. The Ensign was a dead man.