Hard Landing

“Everything seems in order” Wright yelled. Borges could hear him just fine with his headphones had he whispered but Wright loved to yell. He somehow felt better every time he shouted. Most of the time he did so on the cockpit of the D77H-TC Pelican Dropship, which didn't really bother anyone, but on the hangar bay of this battle cruiser it became rather annoying. It also pissed the hell out of the Comms officer on the bridge, who was kind enough to ignore him during the battles and flights, and that only meant trouble for both of them. It wasn't very wise to be on an officer's bad side, specially during the war.

“This piece of shit will most surely kill us, but not today” said Borges. Wright's answer didn't take long to reach him “Nah! She's a good girl! Uncle Luis is kiddin' because he is a pain in the ass” Wright kept repeating the same thing over and over through the Comms, he was certainly trying to piss Hogder off. Borges thought of shutting him up, but he knew it would be a pointless argument, and besides he enjoyed seeing Hodger rage as much as the next guy. He had a peculiar OCD with order, which became extremely helpful as a Comms Officer; even with an assisting A.I. things could get very hectic in a matter of seconds. Whenever things were hectic Hodger would talk like a maniac, and his body would start having spasms. He would have been discharged were it not for how efficient he was and the little fact that the UNSC would take anyone it could get its hands on. He found a way to keep his calm during combat, but he still couldn’t control it when things got chaotic outside of battle. Seeing him at his station while docking on port had proven a real amusement for some of the crew. Hell! It was fun to piss him off just for the sake of it.

Borges mind drifted away while Wright was checking the wing thrusters for the sixth time. It had been a long time since he remembered a time of calm like this. Eight standard earth days had passed since the last slipspace jump. Granted, it was a random jump per Cole Protocol, so the chances of running into something interesting, which for Borges meant dangerous, were narrow. However this time the covies they had run into hadn’t followed them and that was unusual. After a jump the Covenant used to send one or two corvettes after any human ship. They weren’t hard to avoid but it made the possibility of being engaged in naval combat all the more likely; and that was a completely different story. Everyone’s blood froze when that possibility arose. Human ships had a very low survival rate against Covenant. He somehow felt proud of his Pelican, the odds onboard her were much higher. He felt inclined to kiss the ship, but he had an agreement with Wright, she was no pretty girl to take out, she was their daughter and they would care for her as much as she cared for them.

“Wrigth, Borges, to the Captain’s Briefing Room, ON THE DOUBLE!” Hogder’s voice sounded calm. Borges could almost feel him sniggering. “I bet he ran like a little girl crying when he went to the Captain” Wright said. Borges couldn’t help to chuckle with his joke. Hodger was certainly listening to the Comms and by now he was surely shaking, more so with the following timid laughs that could be heard. They belonged to the mechanics and engineers on duty at the hangar. They all really liked Wright, and that meant getting the best assistance a Pelican flying crew could ask for. It even meant on occasion getting access to some mods that were outside of UNSC Regulation. “I’m sure we are going to get spanked” Borges said, but his comeback didn’t resonate as well as his partner’s joke. He wasn’t a funny guy, and it showed. For many it was a mystery how he and Wright put up with each other, there even was a bet going on about how long it would take them to tear each other apart. What many didn’t know was that they had been together for twelve years. They had crossed the white line of Earth’s Icarus Combat Flight Academy together; they had crashed into what was left of a Destroyer. They had been through hell and back together. “The Cap..tain said on the Dable” Hodger reminded them, he had clearly lost his calm.

“Roger that Sir, on our way” replied Wright in a very militaristic tone. To everyone it seemed like a soldier following an order, but Borges knew the truth, it was a mockery. They gathered at the nose of the Pelican and marched together towards the elevator. Wright was sure it was going to be a slap on the wrist, but Borges had other things in mind. He feared something, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. He felt the two minute life sensation that fighter pilots talked about so much. Two Marines were waiting by the Captain’s Briefing Room. Wright’s smirk disappeared as they turned to face them; this was no slap on the wrist. They announced to the Marines and they let them in. The door locked behind them. Few ships had a private briefing room for the Captain. This room was specially designed with secrecy in mind. Borges was sure that it was a safe house for ONI’s spooks during the war with the insurrectionist. I was dimly lit, and the holomap in the middle showed some planets circling a sun. The Captain was sitting in his chair reading files on his data pad. “Are you two waiting for a formal invitation?” the Captain said without raising his sight. He had a tough as nails attitude that sit well with the crew and with what is to be expected of a Battle cruiser Captain. “Sir!” they both said in unison and approached the holomap. They stood as straight as they could. “At ease” the Captain said. He stood up and looked at them for the first time. He started walking towards them “Luis Borges and Jackson Wright I simply cannot fathom what you two want..” he said “..on the one hand I have two complete fools who love to piss on my Junior Officers; on the other, two pilots with one of the very best god damned flight records I have ever seen.”

Borges felt inclined to say something, but his military training had tough him to quench those urges. “I know only one other pilot who managed to cross the white line with a Hornet in Icarus Academy and here I stand in front of you not knowing whether to congratulate you or to give you some arrest days to think about it”. Borges couldn’t help but to remember what it felt to fly the Hornet on Earth’s gravity. He remembered the tenacity that had brought him and Jackson together. Flying across the white line was an extremely dangerous exercise that very few were given the privilege of attempting. The whole idea was to get the best students to try and maneuver a gliding Hornet in order to follow a white smoke trail laid by a drone. You had to fly solo, with no assisting electronic commands of any kind. It was just you, the stick, your calculations and the pedals that controlled the tiny Hornet’s flaps. It was considered suicidal by the books and in fact you quit the exercise by ejecting. The idea was that the student’s ego met its limits. It was very rare that a student achieved it, let alone that two managed to do so. It was considered a great honor. For Borges, it was the last time he had tested freedom.

“Think very hardly about Earth men” the Captain paused; his tone was different “Think about what we are protecting. They are all yours”. Suddenly a man came out of the shadows. He had a uniform of the UNSC, however it was matte black and had no insignia. He was a spy working for ONI without a doubt. “Gentlemen, need I remind you that if anything we discuss leaves this room you will be banned traitors and executed?” He didn’t have to remind them, everyone knew this even if they had never encountered an ONI spy. It was one of their scare tactics, and so far it was paying off. Borges clenched his teeth. He had crossed an ONI Officer before, he had never told Wright. It was after the battle of Hestion, when their Pelican crashed into a Destroyer. The ship was being decimated by Covenant plasma bolts and broke formation, drifting dangerously through the battlefield. Wright was too concentrated in keeping the attached Scorpion Tank stable to notice the incoming ship; and he was too focused on avoiding Seraphs and debris to imagine that the incoming Destroyer had lost all control. When he realized what was going on, it was too late. Even if he reacted with all the Pelican’s thrusters the speed of the Destroyer was too fast to avoid it. So instead, he chose to aim for one of the hangars, which was twisted and had clearly melted due to plasma. It was the only place where there was no chance of splattering a friendly. He had very little time to warn Wright to brace for impact; but when he turned to do so he was already reading the cargo release. He had to time it right, otherwise they would be crushed by the Scorpion Tank after the improvised landing.

The crash was rough, especially on Dolores, “his girl” back then. The nose bent as it hit the charred metal, and the Dropship turned on its side. The screen in the cockpit went black as soon as they touched what was left of the hangar bay. Borges had set the thrusters to full reverse throttle before impact to reduce the collision force and it had worked, but it also tilted the Dropship. If it started to spin, they were both dead men. Wright had timed the payload release to the Pelican’s full reverse, in order to reduce the Scorpion’s momentum. It would definitely smash against the Dropship, but at least it gave them a few seconds to flee the remains provided they survived the landing. As soon as the ship hit one of the hangar’s walls, they both unbuckled and left through the Pelican’s cargo bay door. It was the furthest from their seats but also the only one that was very unlikely to jam. A jammed emergency escape hatch would otherwise mean dying crushed under the Scorpion, not the best way to go. When the door opened what little oxygen was inside the Pelican was sucked out. They both felt the pressure and the cold through their pressurized suits. They had ten minutes worth of oxygen. They to find an air pocket soon. They jumped off the Pelican in the nick of time and heard as the Tank squashed what was left of Dolores.

“Goodbye my love” said Borges as he floated across the hangar. Most systems were clearly offline in the bay. Wright took out his ICE repair kit torch and approached the nearest door. He was already working on the door control panel by the time Borges caught up with him. It was tight shut so they had to force it open overriding the lock. I was hard to operate the torch and the tweezers under the pressure of space. They felt a little numb between the freezing cold and the slight pain in their joints. As soon as they opened the door they found themselves in a pressurization room. In case of emergency all contents of the hangar bay could be vented into space. They activated the mechanism and the door shut firmly behind them. They relaxed for a second as they felt the pressure reducing. They tried to calm down and breathe normally, but they both had one thing in mind “Payback”. As soon as the door opened on the other side they were treated to a gruesome spectacle. Dead soldiers were floating on the hallway, some simply dead, others burned beyond recognition, and a few with strange markings.

The Covenant had been on board the ship killing any survivors and searching for any useful NavCom data. Without saying a word they both headed to the engineers locker room and suited up with proper space suits. Since they did maintenance on the hull of the ship, their suits were far better designed for precision work and endurance. They argued for what seemed to them a couple of minutes and then decided on an interesting surprise for the Covenant. They went back to the hangar, this time however the pressure of space and the cold were not a nuisance as before. Wright went inside the Scorpion Tank and a few minutes later handed Borges some cables, which he connected to the now silent Dolores. The ship came to life for a couple of seconds in spite of being in a very bad shape, and it started broadcasting an emergency signal. After a while, Borges unplugged the cables and the ship went dead again. He would make sure the covies payed for what had done to her. Wright had managed to get the Tank’s turret working. Borges joined him in the cockpit, which was very tight, as far as he was concerned a Pelican was far cozier than that, but for the moment it had to do. They waited for a target to come into view, any Covenant would suffice, they just wanted revenge. They would even settle for a Banshee or a Seraph, but fortune gave them a big smile when a Covenant Corvette came into view. The god dammed ship had ship was a great and easy target, but it had shields so they had to time it perfectly. Luckily for them timing was their mastery.

They had to wait until the ship charged a plasma round and then fire at the main battery as it was firing it. The ship would drop its shields for a second, if not less, to fire and that was their window of opportunity. If they fired too soon, they were dead. It they fired too late, they might hit the ship, but the plasma round would hit them. They didn’t want to damage the ship. They wanted it sunk. They had to hit the plasma round with the explosion of the shell to ensure that the ship went down for good. A bold and risky strategy. The ship had been lured to the destroyer’s remains by the Pelican’s SOS signal. Dolores last words were not of helplessness and shame, but an angry defying roar.

They stayed still in the Tank's cockpit waiting for any sign from the Covenant ship as it became bigger and bigger. Suddenly Borges spotted a bluish glow near the bow and Wright took aim. This was it. Neither of them spoke a word, they knew what had to be done. The adrenaline that rushed through them made them feel as if time had slowed down. They were gliding again free of electronic commands and assists. Just them, the Tank and the ship. The blue glow started changing in both size and color. They could feel their nerves wrecking, just as they had felt trying to pull the dammed Hornet up. And then amidst all that, Borges saw it, a tiny glimmer on the ship's stern. “Fire!” he shouted, but Wright had already pulled the trigger a fraction of second before he had finished yelling. Wright immediately begun shouting, if he was going to die he might as well do so doing what he loved. Borges, relieved of the stress, looked at Dolores one last time and said “we did it baby”. Then he fainted.

He woke up inside the cell of an ONI Prowler. An Officer explained that they were found due to the distress beacon and that they had managed to sink the Covenant Corvette. They had fallen unconscious due to hypoxia, Wright had not yet regained consciousness. The Officer then left the room and the interrogation begun. It was an endless torture of question after question, they went from basic color recognition, to the assembly of a weapon. From strategical deployment, and flight controls to the events of the battle. From the names of his fellow soldiers, to the names and dates he had graduated. They feared they were spies of some sort, or they simply couldn't believe his story. Truth be told, he couldn't either. Every time the interrogator left the room, another came in. The new one asked the same questions all over again and left, and another one came in. Borges estimated he must have been twelve of fourteen hours being interrogated. For a couple of moments he wished the Covenant had killed him, it was far better than being endlessly interrogated. Finally a man came into the room, he had a different uniform, it was matte black and had no visible insignias. He explained that both him and Wright would remain under surveillance, but for now they chose to believe his story. He also explained that there would not be any decoration not due to the lack of heroism in their actions, but because of the fact that the battle had been a complete massacre for the UNSC, almost thirteen ships had been lost with all hands. The battle was to stay out of the public eye and the Official Communications channels. Just as he was leaving he said the same thing the ONI Officer I the Captain's Briefing Room had said.

Wright couldn't understand what was going through Borges mind, but he could know how he felt about those words. He had asked Borges many times about their rescue after waking up in the Hospital ship, but his answer had always been the same “Classified ONI Directive”, which were the exact words the ONI Officer had told him to repeat. The Officer approached the holomap and gave it a nostalgic look. He took a deep breath and said calmly “Reach has fallen. On August 30, 2552 all remaining UNSC ships were ordered to abandon the planet.”. He had a hard time saying those words and keeping his calm tone, it was the first time he had said it aloud.

Borges and Wright couldn't move. They were frozen in place, unable to act, think or do otherwise. They simply couldn't understand how humanity's biggest military stronghold in the galaxy had fallen in eight days (considering the last Comms entry before the last slipspace jump). The ONI Officer took a moments pause and the continued “Needless to say how dire the war has become. I have orders to take you with me to Earth. Your services, loyalty and secrecy are required.” The man handed them a Datapad and then vanished again in the darkness of the room.

The Captain ordered them to be ready at 0700, since they would be transferred to an ONI Prowler. He saluted them as if Wright and Borges were his superiors and said “Take good care of Earth for me boys, make me proud!”. They nodded in silent respect and left the room. The walk towards the hangar was silent, neither of them was bold enough to say a word. It was too much to take in, too much to bear. They both tried to remember the names of any acquaintances stationed in Reach, but came out empty handed. They couldn't even remember the planet's landscape or the space port, or even the fancy bars in New Alexandria. It was as if it had been ripped from their memories. They both knew they couldn't let that happen to earth, they couldn't let that happen to humanity. And they wouldn't.