Matt-038 (Halo Fanfiction)

Chapter 14: Special Assignment

Author's Note: If you have any tips writing tips, please feel free to comment.

Again, I gratefully accept constructive criticism as a means to help me develop my skills further as a writer.

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Chapter 14: Special Assignment

5 years after Alpha Company indoctrination

Location: UNSC Point of No Return, Location Classified

July 30, 2537

0900 hours

Lieutenants Armstrong and Ambrose and SCPO Mendez had been escorted to this catwalk through a series of corridors and high-security biometric vaults into the bowels of the stealth cruiser Point of No Return.

The security officers had then left them standing at attention on the catwalk, and sealed the vaultlike door behind them. Below the metal grating of the catwalk, the shadows swallowed all sound.

Three meters to Matt's left was a slightly curved white wall. No door. Beyond was Odin's Eye, the high-security conference room where he'd first been told of the SPARTAN-III program by Colonel Ackerson.

"Think this is some Section Three test?" Mendez finally whispered. "Or maybe someone doesn't like getting news about the lousy selection results for the Beta Company candidates?"

"I don't know about you guys," Matt said, "but I have a bad feeling about this."

"I'm not sure," Kurt replied. "My requested upgrades for the Mark-II SPI armor were over budget."

Mendez raised an eyebrow. "Where did you hear that?"

"The new AI talks a lot," Kurt said.

"'Deep Winter,'" muttered Mendez. "I wonder if AIs pick their own names, or if some officer in Section Three does it."

Matt was about to offer his opinion when he noticed there now was a door in the curved white wall. Colonel Ackerson stood there. "Gentlemen, join us." Ackerson then retreated into a brightly lit chamber. When they entered, Matt had to squint his eyes for a couple of seconds because of the bright light.

Matt noticed that he hadn't met their eyes. That was always a bad sign.

They entered, and as he crossed the threshold, Matt felt static crawl over his skin. The concave illuminated walls of the chamber were disorienting. Kurt focused on the center of the half-spherical room, on the black conference table. Two officers sat there, gazing at holographic screens that floated in the air over its surface.

Ackerson waved them closer.

A woman sat with her back to them; opposite her sat a middle-aged gentleman.

The man was gray and balding. The woman appeared older than regs permitted before mandatory retirement. Her osteoporotic slump, slender frail arms, and thinning white hair indicated extreme age.

Matt froze as he spotted the one and three star rank insignia on their collars and the trio snapped off a salute. "Vice Admiral, ma'am," they said in unison. "Rear Admiral, sir."

The Vice Admiral ignored Mendez and scrutinized Matt and Kurt. "Sit," she said, "the three of you."

Matt didn't recognize either of these high-ranking officers, and they didn't bother to introduce themselves.

He did as he was ordered, as did Mendez and Kurt. Even sitting, though, his back was ramrod straight, his chest out, and eyes forward.

"We were reviewing the record of your SPARTAN-IIIs since they went operational nine months ago," she said. "Impressive."