Peace to the Fallen

Even now, a week after the attack, Geneva lay in ruins.

Granted, she wasn't expecting anything to be different. Capital cities didn't get rebuilt in a week. Especially when enemy combatants still held out in portions of it. Especially when the materials needed to rebuild it had to be imported from off-world. And especially when one also had to rebuild a fleet to continue the fight against the bastards who'd levelled the city in the first place. The secretary-general had said that May 7th would be a day that would live in infamy. And while she was certain that the same thing had been said about Pearl Harbour in 1941, or Basra in 201X1, she didn't see any reason to fault his statement. When reporter Gerome Davies had called the attack on Geneva "the biggest surprise attack in the history of the world," she believed him. After all, she'd been there when it had happened. And in spite of the carnage, she was still here now. Which, she reflected, as she continued to look out the window of her office, was more than she could say about Frederick Raines or Nick Reyes. History would remember their names. History wouldn't recall the name Nora Salter. And right now, at Bravo Site, she was fine with that.

Standing here, looking out over the ruins, watching the rain pelt against the window, she reflected that one could be forgiven for thinking the war against the SDF had ended. On the morning of May 7th, the UNSA fleet had been decimated. On the morning of May 8th, the AATIS network had been destroyed. That same day, the SDF's Mars fleet yard had been destroyed, along with a sizable portion of its fleet at the hands of Olympus Mons. Both sides were howling for blood, but the crux of the matter was that neither side had the ships available to wage war. 48 hours, tens of thousands of lives lost, followed by the occasional raid across the Sol system. Raids that, stuck as she was on Earth, she hadn't taken part in.

It was torture. Blue skies, green leaves, non-artificial gravity…it was hell. And, she thought, as she turned around and sat at the desk, bringing up her emails list…it was hell without the company of heroes. Maybe there was a place of fire and brimstone for soldiers and savages alike, but at least there, she might have some company. Here though…

You're going to have to respond eventually you know.

Nora frowned as the voice in the back of her head loomed back up, tormenting her with the facts of reality. Over the last week, she'd spent time responding as best she could to the anxieties of her parents. Both of them still in Lebanon, both of them wanting umpteen reassurances that yes, their baby girl was still alive after doing her darndest to get herself killed. To them, she'd responded via email and vid-link, telling them that bereavement leave wasn't going to happen, and that yes, that "sweet boy" she'd told them about was dead. She'd smiled, she'd grit her teeth, she'd held her tongue and refrained from yelling that they seemed more insistent on playing matchmaker than learning his damn name. To her parents, she had no problem responding. To this though…

She opened the email again, frowning, as she rubbed her chin. There'd been a time where she'd believed in God. Right now, she wasn't so sure. But as for the Devil, she had no doubt the fucker existed, and that he was laughing at her right now. Laughter that was bereft from her throat as she once again read the email she'd received yesterday:

To Lieutenant Nora Salter,

In light of your service to the United Nations Space Alliance, most notably in Operation Blood Rush, you have hereby been promoted to the rank of commander.

You are ordered to report to UNSA Requiem on the 19th of this month, where you will serve as executive officer under Captain Di Yuan Chau. Please see the attached documentation concerning expected duties, personnel rosters, and ship specifications.

If you have any inquiries concerning your assignment, please do not hesitate to contact me.

Sincerely,

Rear-admiral David Karlin.

Peace to the fallen.

She'd got the email eight hours ago, and read it at least ten times. She'd gone over the specifications, learning that the Requiem was a newly built Commodore-class carrier with a crew of 510 souls. She'd learnt that this was Captain Chau's first commission, and that he'd excelled in the Academy. She'd learnt that she'd have oversight over SCAR Team 8, but of course, being the XO, she'd be expected to stay on the bridge. The email had been brief, the attachments weren't, and the admiral had opened himself up to inquiries. Right now, she had only one. One question, and the same one she'd had as soon as she'd received the communique.

What if I say no?

It was a question that she knew the context of, if not the answer. Technically, one could refuse promotion within SATO. If one didn't want extra bars or stars, they technically didn't have to receive them. However, as the saying went, "use it or lose it." If one refused promotion, they couldn't count on the offer coming again. And that saying hadn't been made in the context of a severely depleted fleet in both firepower and manpower. Staring at the black text on the white background, Nora reflected that even after all she'd done with the crew of the Retribution, a promotion like this wouldn't have come to her under normal circumstances. Because circumstances, as they were now, were desperate.

Should have been you Nick, she reflected. God, if you were here, you'd have taken the bridge and been a captain. Damn it, what the hell were you thinking? She wiped her eyes. You're the one Requiem needs Nick. Not me.

An alert popped up on her screen, asking if she wanted to accept a vid-link. Without a second thought, she accepted it. Her inbox was replaced by a link with the hanger of a warship. Men and women scurried to and fro in the background. However, it was the foreground that had Nora's attention, or rather, the man who was looking at her from it.

"Brooks," she murmured.

"Lieutenant," the marine said. She saw him raise an eyebrow. "Waterworks huh? Bad time?"

"Oh, it's just the rain Brooks, I…" She trailed off, realizing that he wasn't referring to the rain pattering against the window, but rather the water that was below her eyes. Ready to shoot herself, she instead did the next best thing and quickly brushed her shame aside.

"If it's a bad time, I can-"

"No, no, it's fine," Nora said. She looked around the office before returning her gaze to the screen. To Staff Sergeant Sean Brooks, one of the Retribution Four – the four individuals who'd made it back to Earth after the Ret's attack on Mars. "Where are you now?" she asked.

"All I can say is that I'm on my way to do something very dangerous that'll probably get me killed."

"You made it back from Mars, Brooks. Isn't that a bit pessimistic?"

"Luck of the Irish ma'am. Even it can't last forever."

An awkward silence lingered between them, one that the clatter on Brooks's ship couldn't break through any more than the rain in Geneva could. Nora struggled to find something to say. Good luck, good night, stay safe? None of it felt adequate.

"Bravo Site huh?" Brooks asked eventually.

Nora forced a smile. "How'd you know?"

"Well, the Olympus destroyed UNSA HQ, so figure you'd be there. It's the city's UNSA admin hub after all."

"Yeah. You're right."

"And?"

"Weather's crap. Chocolate's still good though. Switzerland's like that."

Brooks laughed awkwardly, and she couldn't blame him. They weren't in the eye of the storm anymore; they were on the periphery of it. One storm had passed, another was about to begin. That they'd made it back to Earth, that they'd both even made it to the surface of Mars, that had defied the odds in of itself. Chances were that by the end of this, one, if not both of them, would be dead.

"Listen," Brooks said. "I'd say stay in touch, but I don't think we're gonna be able to do that. So…fair winds."

Nora nodded. "Fair winds."

Brooks gave an awkward smile and went to terminate the link, and-

"Brooks."

…and stopped, as Nora interrupted him.

"Ma'am?"

"Brooks, when you…" She took a breath. "When Omar died, when Nick…Commander Reyes, made you a staff sergeant, put you in command of the marines on the Ret…were you afraid?"

"Um…" Brooks looked puzzled. He sounded puzzled. Nevertheless, he looked around the hanger he was on before bringing the screen close to his face. "Between you and me ma'am? I was pissing me pants like a wee lad on the grass."

"But you still took it."

"Well of course ma'am. Wasn't bout to let down the commander. Besides, chain of command was clear."

"I know, I know, but…if it wasn't? If someone else could have got the chevrons?"

Brooks gave her a look. He might have been unable to tell her where he was, or where he was going, but she could tell that he wasn't happy about being asked these questions. So, she murmured, "don't worry about it. Forget I asked."

"Sure, ma'am." Brooks looked around again. Nora remained seated, aware that she'd poisoned the well. Waiting to see whether she or Brooks would terminate the feed first.

"Fair winds, Commander Salter."

Nora blinked. "Commander? But I'm not-"

The line terminated. And she sat there. Staring.

I'm not a commander.

And yet she was. Least as far as Rear-admiral Karlin was concerned, and as far as Staff Sergeant Brooks was concerned as well. Apparently for all the UNSA's security protocols, birds cheeped, and the vacuum of space didn't stop the song from being carried. Caught up in her thoughts, it took her a good five seconds to notice the pop-up on the screen's bottom right. An email. One from a source marked as "Classified." Frowning, tempted to just ignore it, she opened the file.

What the hell?

The email had White Classification. That was used for personal messages, meant for family members only. It wasn't even truly classified in the military sense, but SATO looked after its own, and that meant respecting soldiers' privacy. It was why Nora was aware that so many of the Ret's crew had given their final testaments on Mars, but didn't know their contents. She knew, because as the senior officer who'd made it back, she was the one who had to hand the data over to the UNSA Family Affairs branch. But why the heck would she be receiving this? Her only family were her parents, and last she'd seen, they were very much alive.

The email didn't tell her much either. It mentioned an audio file, that it had been verified, and had only been recently received and processed. Without dwelling on the matter further, she opened the audio file.

Hey, Salt.

Her eyes widened, just like her ears. "Nick?" she whispered.

I don't know if you're ever going to get this. I'm transmitting in the blind here, and it's a long way back to Earth.

She leant back against her chair, putting a hand against her mouth.

I know I'm going to die here Salt. There's no way back this time. And…and I'm saying this now, because you're going to need everything you've got to get back to Earth, and you don't need me whispering in your ear right now.

The rain continued to patter against the window. Loud as it was though, as she turned the volume up, the sound of the storm was drowned out.

Salt, I…I don't know what to say. I always thought that it was a captain's job to get his crew home, but right now…I don't know. Everyone was ready to give their lives on the Olympus, but now…He took a breath. I don't want to die, Salt. I know I'm going to. But I'm not ready. I thought I was, at Titan, but now…

There was a pause, and silence. No sound but the rain, and her breathing.

Salt, I want you to know…if you get back, if you get this…you gave me a second chance, Salt. At Titan. When you called in Ferran. When you saved me. But you can't save me this time. And…and I want you to know…you're better than me Salt. You may not see it, but you are. Whatever I do in the next ten minutes, it's not going to end the war. But you can. You all can. Earth, humanity…they need you. But you don't need me. Not anymore.

Nora sat there, in silence. Wondering how Nick could lie so easily.

Fair winds, Fever.

The audio file reached its end. A helpful little prompt asked her if she wanted to replay it. Nora resisted the urge to tell it to go fuck itself. That, and the similar urge to ask Family Affairs why this was sent to her. After all, Nick Reyes didn't have any family. He'd lost them in the Secession Wars when he was just a child. As they'd joined SATO together, as they'd learnt to fight and fly together, he'd sometimes joke that she was like the family he'd never had…

…and presumably, someone knew it.

Nora got to her feet, leaning down over the desk. The wind howled. The rain pattered. Her breathing got deeper and faster.

You don't need me. Not anymore.

She slammed her fist down on the desk and screamed. Wondering how he could say that. Wondering why the hell he hadn't told her this above Mars. Why Nick Reyes, why hundreds like him, had to die. Why she was lucky enough to make it back to Earth. Why, why, why.

Earth. Humanity. They need you.

"God damn you Nick," she whispered, before slumping back down in the chair. "God damn you."

There'd be no saving Nick this time. No ship. No miracle. No way to kick the can down the road. Sooner or later, the war would start again. Sooner or later, people would start to die. Sooner or later, she'd have to take the conn. Just like Nick had. Just as he'd known in the last minutes of his life.

"Fair winds, Raider," she whispered.

She went back to the email from Karlin.

She had to familiarize herself with the Requiem.

And at last, stop singing a requiem of her own.

A/N

So not too long ago, I beat Infinite Warfare. Thoughts aside, one thing that struck me listening to the 'farewell messages' at the game's credits is that there's none from Reyes. I actually thought at the time that "hey, I bet if I play all the messages I'll unlock his or something," but nup. Got nothing. That said, in hindsight, it arguably makes sense. Reyes's character arc is about accepting that you can't save everyone, and that sometimes, you have to sacrifice those under your command to get results. That said, he seems quite willing to sacrifice himself at Titan, so, yeah.

The other thing that got me to write this was Salter's...not exactly character arc, but certainly character trait, in that it's all but confirmed that Salter doesn't want to take command. If Infinite Warfare 2 was ever made (and it's been outright stated it never will be, which sucks), I'd argue that she's have made the logical choice to be the protagonist. Because the first game arguably has her at the start of an arc, of evading command (e.g. sending Tigress to rescue Reyes rather than take command of Retribution herself), and at the end of it, she's the highest ranked survivour of the ship. You've got the groundwork for a character arc there that would be distinct from the previous protagonist.

Of course, this is never going to happen, but regardless, drabbled this up.