Halo: Road Less Travelled/Prologue



The hum of the Shaw-Fujikawa Translight Engine went unnoticed to the two Spartans sleeping. The room they were in was small, and was decorated with very little. There was one bed to the left of the room, a desk to the right and small wardrobe beside the desk. The room was black, as every personalised room in a UNSC ship were. The room was almost silent, with the soft sounds of two human’s breathing being all the tainted the emptiness.

The Spartans were onboard the UNSC Wasteland, a frigate they used to ferry them from mission to mission. It was unofficially commandeered by the Office of Naval Intelligence or ONI to the boots on the ground. These two Spartans were not official Spartans, not the infamous SPARTAN-IIs who became poster boys and girls for the war effort against the Covenant, these two were much more subtle in their importance and in their effect – they were SPARTAN-IIIs, what’s more, they were Headhunters, which made them even more classified than their brethren. Indeed, they were referred by their birth names by the rest of the crew, excepting those who knew of their real purpose. These Spartans were Joshua Héroux and Amy Scullion to the crew and SPARTANs G024 and G094 to ONI and to the men in the field who witnessed their battle prowess. These Headhunters were among the best the UNSC had, they were proficient killers and what was best about them – they were deniable. Officially, they didn’t exist and never would exist. It was almost too good to be true, and it was. Joshua was mentally unbalanced, he often went into bouts of extreme depression that crippled him and made it almost impossible for him to undertake any mission. This was dealt with by very powerful anti-depressants and by making sure that Amy was constantly by his side. It was a good trade off and something that ONI had dealt with. There simply weren’t enough devoted soldiers to the UNSC to get rid of one because he was suffering from depression.

Though ONI knew that his depression was something of their fault; it was true that there had been emotional instabilities that Joshua had had in his pre-Spartan life – courtesy of constant neglect by his parents and then by bullying and constant neglect in the care-home where he had stayed. Contagio Purgatiio had destroyed the men and women he had called Team Xiphos, of which he had led, but more importantly, they had killed the only family he knew and he blamed himself. The mission was a total failure and Joshua blamed himself for their deaths. He often still faced nightmares, and tonight was no different.

The young Spartan shot up, gasping as he did so. Sweat escaped from his pores throughout his body. He straightened himself up in the bed; placing his back against the headboard. The blankets lay around his waist. He gulped in some air and tried to relax before attempting to go back to sleep. If he had the time, that is. He looked to his left to check the time: 0557. There was no point; he would be called to report to his new liaison officer in and around 0615. He sighed and began to shuffle himself out of bed. There was a soft groaning noise from Amy, he turned around and planted a soft kiss on her forehead before he clambered out of bed. He stretched and rotated his shoulder blades; they felt stiff after spending so long in the one position. The bed he and Amy shared was not really big enough for two people, but it was the best they had.

Josh moved towards the wardrobe and opened it. There was a pair of olive-black fatigues – his and Amy’s. There was only one distinguishable difference - Josh’s fatigues had the chevrons of a Chief Petty Officer, whereas Amy’s had the chevrons of a Petty Officer First Class. Despite the difference in rank, Joshua never pulled it up on her. Their relationship was too personal for that, and the rank system did not suit them – it just wouldn’t work in a Headhunter scenario – each of them had to agree on what to do, otherwise what was the point? Their ranks were merely formalities – well that’s how Joshua saw it, but the UNSC obviously disagreed.

Josh took off the shirt that he had worn to bed and began to dress in the fatigues. He had just pulled the fatigue’s shirt over his head whenever he heard Amy stir.

“Have we been called?” She asked, while rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“No.”

Amy immediately latched on to why Josh was awake, “bad dreams again?”

“Yes.”

“Josh it wasn’t your fault - you know that.” She moved herself into a sitting posture on the bed. “There was nothing you could have done, we weren’t trained for that and we didn’t have the right weapons.”

Joshua grunted. “Get up,” he barked; ignoring her consoling words, “we’ll be called shortly. It’s probably best we’re ready.”

“Yes, sir,” Amy replied as she got up. He looked at her quickly before looking down at the ground. He knew that she was only trying to help him, but Joshua had never been very good with words or expressing his emotions. He was not a man who knew what each feeling or emotion meant, his was a child of war and war was what he was good at – he was comfortable in knowing what his place was in the world. Though, he knew he was too hard on Amy sometimes. He moved towards her and gently placed a kiss on her cheek. She looked at him and nodded. “Like you said, we best get ready.” He smiled softly and the two dressed in silence.

Josh stole occasional glances at Amy. He had always had an affinity with her, she had been the first person to speak to him on Onyx, she had also been the first person to really try and engage with him during their training. She was the one thing he needed in his life to keep him stable – they both knew that, but they didn’t have to say anything. It was one of the best things of their relationship: they knew how the other felt without needing clarification. Amy knew Josh cared for her, it was just he had shortcomings in fully letting it be known – something she was willing to accept. It worked well.

Josh was stretching again when the comlink buzzed. He turned to face it, “Chief Petty Officer Héroux and Petty Officer First Class Scullion, report.”

“What is it?” Josh replied tersely.

“Report to the bridge, Lieutenant Watson would like to speak with you.”

“Roger,” Josh turned to Amy, “we better go.”

She nodded and the pair left the room. The corridor was darkened as most of the crew were in cryostasis, the ship was currently in slipstream space, or ‘slipspace.’ Josh did not know where they were en-route to, but he assumed it was somewhere where his and Amy’s services would be needed. The two walked in silence, with the only sound of their footsteps to keep them company.

They reached the elevator and Josh pressed the button which would take them to the bridge. He exhaled heavily, and slumped his shoulders.

“What’s on your mind, Josh?” Amy asked as she placed her arm around his waist. His head shot up and he looked at her, his eyes betraying nothing. “I’m not sure. I don’t like the thought of being kept in the dark until a few moments before we go into something. It happened once before and look how that turned out.”

Amy slid her hand from behind Josh’s back as the elevator stopped with a jolt. She gave him a knowing look and shook her head in disgust. “Everything relates back to that, doesn’t it?”

Josh placed his right hand on his neck as the doors opened. The two walked in unison towards the centre of the bridge where the Captain of the UNSC Wasteland was in mid-conversation with an officer Joshua had never seen before. He could only assume it was his new liaison officer. The previous one had been killed by the vestiges of the once mighty Covenant. It was a pity really, but Josh moved on in his life. He had never really liked his old officer much anyway.

The two noticed the pair of Spartans as they approached. The captain turned around and gave them a look over before turning back to the ONI Officer. He said something, inaudible to Josh, before nodding and disappearing. The unknown man walked towards the Headhunters and clasped his hands together. “Ah, hullo!” He beamed, “you must be SPARTANS-G024 and G094.” He extended his hand to Josh to shake. Josh awkwardly took it and shook it back; Amy was offered the same courtesy. Never before had what was effectively his baby-sitter been so respectful and kind to the pair of them – it made Josh feel uneasy.

“Why’d you call us here, sir?” Josh said monotonously. He inadvertently stiffened up. He hated being around officers; he was generally distrustful of authority: a trait that had been manifested itself in him from experiences suffered during his childhood.

“We, ONI that is, have a task for you.”

“We understand that sir, bu-“ Amy attempted to say, but was cut off.

“Not you, Petty Officer.”

A warm shiver shot up Joshua’s spine and he felt his palms begin to sweat. “Sir?”

“You heard me.”

“With all due respect, sir, Amy and I are a team. We work together. Always have. I need her.” He almost spat the last words as his fists clenched.

The officer sniggered, “I’ve read your file, G024, about how you ‘need’ G094. Frankly I think it’s bullshit. I think there are other reasons behind it.” Josh glared at the officer, the officer returned his gaze. “But that’s besides the point.”

There was a sickening jolt that rocked the entire ship. Someone called aft: “Sir, we’ve arrived at our destination.”

“Roger.”

“Ah, most fortuitous timing.” Watson dusted himself off and began to speak again. “It’s besides the point as we cannot have two of you going in. We’ve only got one ship, and it’s only big enough to hide one of you inside of it.”

The same officer who had called after the ship jolted spoke up again, “sir, we have a small ship heading towards the space station.”

“Watson?” The captain asked.

Watson shrugged, “it’s probably nothing." He gave a dismissive wave of his hands. "But yes, we have one ship – a small cargo ship filled to the brim with supplies and only enough room to hide one of you in gear.” He made a cutting motion with his hand to silence all future protests. “No, you cannot fly and have Amy hide in the back. It won’t work. If you don’t want to go, she can go in your stead if you want?”

He straightened up further, “of course not, sir,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Good,” Watson smiled with a vindictive glint in his eye. “Now on to the order of business: there is a UNSC deserter here who is hiding out. He’s small fry, but thinks he’s a big fish. He’s been annoying our interests throughout the region – he’s even tried his hand at attacking some Sangheili cargo freight. You’re to go in and silence him before he does some real damage. It shouldn’t be too difficult; we don’t expect resistance to be too well equipped and trained. Does that sound easily enough done, Josh? ” Josh refused to take the bait, but before he could say anything, Amy cut across him. “Can I be the one he co-ordinates his mission with? I can read him better than anyone.”

“Sure, whatever.”

“Thank you, sir.” Amy subtly and gently brushed her fingers against Josh’s.

“There are your orders, Josh gear up and head down to the shuttle bay, Amy head down the CIC, they’ll brief you there. Hopefully this time you won’t fuck everything up, Spartan. Dismissed.”

Josh and Amy saluted before turning and heading to the elevator. Josh crunched his jaw and clinched his jaw. He and this Watson were not going to get along.