Futuristic Halo: Operation SHATTERED SKY (IC - CLOSED)

[0stinato]

A pointless quest and a pointless delve into the bowels of some once-pristine tight-arse operation that Lyster’s non-ONI eyes probably weren’t ever meant to see. Thems that knew him were aware of his peculiar relationship with curiosity. Where one trooper might be quietly fulfilling their childhood super-agent dream of discovering tech whose existence was never written down, Lyster would take little interest. He didn’t care. If he did survive, and if what they were dealing with was worth a threat and a warning, he could only hope they’d take his ennui of the situation into account when consider whether he’d talk or not.

Course he wouldn’t. He didn’t care. Not about something like that, anyway.

It wasn’t worth the time or energy to worry about though: if it was a concern, Black wouldn’t have allowed him to go with the two agents. Unless somewhere down the line Black had factored in a probability that Lyster would die or get himself killed – which, with ONI was never impossible – he was allowed here.

He had intended to make a joke about it to King if they found the weapon, but with the arrival of Grey and the subsequent confirmation that the weapon was a no-show, the joke was replaced by an eye-roll executed with sardonic exaggeration within full view of Grey.

‘That’s the problem with scientists, they think about things. How many times have clever plans just made things harder?’ Lyster muttered. He didn’t deplore clever people, far from it, but he knew he wasn’t one of them and never would be. Being a schmuck with no prospects is what got him here in the first place, and he resented that more.

He shut his mouth while listening to Black though. He sounded upset. Whenever they regrouped, Lyster knew he’d have to cease the dumb bullshit he allowed himself to say for his own fun.

‘May I make a proposal of how we will extract ourselves from this position and return to Black?’ Lyster said, attempting the appropriate vernacular. He raised his eyebrows, then jutted a hand out, gesturing towards the reinforced truck. ‘We no longer have the element of surprise out there, but I’m sure the last thing those covvies are expecting is a mounted machine gun.'

--
Interactions: Viper Actual Worthlessplebian

 

[Solar Daddy]

Owen's search through the warehouse was slow and methodical, with a grimace plastered to his face under his opaque visor. His MA rifle was raised so the barrel would be about waist height in front of him. He was ready to bring the gun up into firing position at the drop of a dime. Owen acknowledged Tremell's callout with a quick "understood" before attempting to listen in on any sounds he could make out in the darkness. He wondered what Prieto had been up to in the time she'd been away. He didn't hear any gunfire come from her direction, so he assumed her and the civilians were safe.

That's when Davis appeared from a corner, startling Owen just enough for him to raise his gun. Bassett's heart beat faster momentarily, but the shock started to subside once he realized who it was. Then, it shot right back up as Davis was abruptly pinned to the ground under a fallen shelf, with an Elite soon stepping into Owen's vision brandishing a plasma rifle. Shit.

The alien's laugh made Owen's blood boil. Owen had to act fast if he wanted to save his superior. Bassett propped himself against a strut along the wall, a small protrusion that gave him the slightest bit of cover. He then engaged the enemy. "Hey fuckface!" Owen said as he pressed down on the trigger of his rifle, letting bullets fly at the red elite. "Come get some, I've been waiting to score an elite corpse all day!" Owen's heart pounded and adrenaline pumped through his body. He assumed the alien couldn't understand the insults, but it had to understand his tone and the lead pelting its shields.

As Owen continued to lay down fire on the enemy, Owen spoke into his comms. "We've been engaged! Elite Major, close!"

 

[Viper Actual]

Mountaineer's Rest - Final Approach

Despite the very limited information to go on, Captain Yasir of the 99th Shock Troops had followed his gut and mustered a platoon's worth of troopers and mobilized up the mountain. On foot it would have been a brutal hike that would have taken an hour and a half.

Fortunately for Yasir and his troops the 99th still had enough Warthogs to ferry the improvised QRF from the abandoned mine all the way up to the town.
If the intel was solid- as far as cryptic ONI intel was- then it was imperative that the ONI unit Yasir was rushing to reinforce were allowed free passage out of the Jigsaw Mountains.

Now, as the sharp dagger-like cliffs around him turned to a blur because of the Warthog's speed Yasir spent the final minutes of the approach going over a tactical map.
With information received from a orbiting UNSC ship the platoon AI- Henry- had been able to give Yasir some manner of advantage in the form of an overhead layout and highlighted friendly and enemy positions.

If he were to guess Yasir would bet his lousy hazard pay that a ONI prowler had taken the images considering their high resolution and superb quality. He grunted to himself.

I sure as hell haven't seen or heard any Longswords doing flyby's.

Yasir didn't pay the map much further attention. His troopers had already been assigned preliminary positions. Assuming that the enemy hadn't been reinforced Yasir would just need to squash a single Spirit dropship and provide some limited firing support until the spooks had been airlifted.

With any luck he might have time to go look for the four ODSTs he had sent to the town looking for supplies, though he wasn't all that concerned.

A sudden beep from Henry made Yasir blink. He glanced at his driver- a veteran corporal named Tiggs- before refocusing on the road in front of them. "Give it to me, Henry."
Behind Yasir the Warthog gunner rotated to the left. The entire vehicle as well as those that followed shuddered as a section of the road was covered in fist-sized rocks and smaller stones.

"Sir," began the AI, speaking with a posh British accent. One of the guys said it was a London accent and Yasir did not have a counter-argument as he'd never been to Earth, much less the British Isles.

"Preliminary tactical evaluation has concluded. With the QRF and the assigned strike-package from the Empire I calculate that we will be able to counter the enemy forces with overwhelming force. As you know, UNSC statistics for ground engagements against Covenant forces are remarkably positive. Adding to that, air support from both Pelicans and strike-craft will give us a clear edge on the enemy scout party."

Henry paused, as if thinking. Yasir didn't mind the momentary pause. Despite being counted as a 'dumb' AI Henry was good at what he was designed for which, in his case, was warfare.
"Sir if you don't mind me saying but this feels a bit like overkill. Surely some other asset can carry out this assignment? It is after all a mere scout party."

Now that was a word Yasir liked. Overkill. In his world overkill equaled victory and victory equaled good. He smiled briefly underneath the visor of his helmet.
"It's about being swift and decisive, Henry. If the Covies manage to sound alarm after alarm then more forces will pour in. If we squash them all in a single instant they might think that they can save conquering the mountain later once they're done with the city."

Yasir glanced at his BR. The display read '36'. He nodded to himself. "Think of it as a show of force."

"I see," Henry replied. The AI lacked an emotional matrix so Yasir couldn't tell if he did understand or not. Regardless, Yasir knew that a swift strike could open up all the mountain. That meant opening up an escape route for the civilians under his protection which was without a doubt worth a try. That and the less intel the Covies managed to pass on the better.

Usually he'd prefer staying out of ONI business but with the sudden arrival of a UNSC battlegroup he was willing to make an exception- even if it meant lending some of his own soldiers.
Indeed, the cost of freeing up the mountain had been clear- the AI onboard the UNSC Empire had made sure of that- and aside from ambushing the Covenant scout party Yasir's QRF might get attached to the ONI team.

Until Mountaineer's Rest had been cleared, however, Yasir didn't know how many of his ODSTs he'd have to send away. Hell, if it wasn't for his rank he'd volunteer himself just to keep the others safe and out of harm's way. Sadly that was the burden of command. To send away your soldiers, not knowing if they'd make it back.

Another bump in the road shook the warthog and Yasir sighed.

Seated two vehicles back were two of the company radiomen or rather, one radioman and one Joint Terminal Attack Controller (or 'JTAC' for short). Both were veterans of previous battles with the radioman, Corporal Alvarez, having seen plenty of action prior. It was rare for such a junior ODST to already have such a long service record though unfortunately the war with the Covenant had made even the greenest of greenhorns scarred and weathered veterans in short time.

This was especially evident in the JTAC operator. An unusual role for an ODST it was nevertheless a crucial one and in this case the burden had been bestowed on a man already weighed down by survivor's guilt. Despite this the trooper in question was one of the most experienced ODSTs within the battalion.

Hopefully it would count for something.

The radio crackled once more and Alvarez, seated on the rear bench of the transport Hog, continued to write down numbers and letters on a piece of rainproof paper. While archaic, paper and permanent marker was still a solid method of writing down encryption keys, password of the day, GPS-coordinates and more.
Not only did you eliminate the need and risk of digital storage on a device but you could also receive and forward information in near-complete silence, thus preventing the enemy from homing in on a broadcasting signal.

Alvarez finished writing and tore off the page before handing it over his shoulder to the JTAC operator seated on the opposite side of the Warthog.

ONI = Phantom Actual
Shortswords ready, callsign Gladius
Call on D-band. Freq. 0.47.
Verification = Minuteman

Alvarez prepared a new piece of paper while the Warthog pushed on. "You got that, Ray?" He asked aloud.

SpazTheButcher

* * *
​

Mountaineer's Rest - Warehouse

Fyze 'Latanai was counted among the most decorated warriors of his house. Indeed, he had been bestowed with the privilege and honor that accompanied the rank of Obidentiary and its crimson armor. The House of Latanai was perhaps not as great in comparison to that of Vadam but its keep and Kaidon showed a defiant endurance and a will to expand- something Fyze gladly mirrored in his service of the Covenant.

Upon being ordered to mobilize his lance to this remote Human dwelling Fyze had initially been filled with doubt; What strategic value could an insignificant location such as this hold? It was a great distance away from the planetary capital and upon first glance Fyze had not noted any military installations.

This doubt would be quelled almost immediately upon landing. Judging upon the gunfire and explosions the Unggoy fools that had been sent to scout the structure adjacent to the dwelling had encountered fierce resistance. Fyze hoped that the worthless creatures had at the very least taken one or two Humans with them- though he was not counting on such.

Furthermore, the Kig-Yar mercenaries sent to boost the lance's size and to help improve its scouting capabilities had also been felled in combat. Either that or they had deserted, which wouldn't have been all that surprising knowing just how spineless and cowardly the Kig-Yar were.

Now Fyze found himself stalking a unknown number of enemy combatants deep inside the Human warehouse. The place reeked with the stench of heresy and Fyze would take great pleasure in burning down the building and the rest of the dwelling with it.
That is, once the fight had concluded.

A shadow moved on the other side of a shelf directly in front of Fyze. Realizing that it was too small to be his second in command- a young and inexperienced Sangheili warrior named Koso- and too muscular to be one of the remaining Kig-Yar Fyze realized that at least one of his enemies was in front of him.

With a sudden burst of ferocious energy Fyze tackled the shelf, forcing it to topple over the Human. The enemy soldier realized what was coming and started to pedal backwards though it had reacted far too late and was forced to shield itself once the contents of the shelf peppered it ruthlessly.

Pinned underneath it all Fyze could see the opaque visor and matching black armor that was unique to the more elite soldiers in service of the heretic military- the 'Ooh-en-ez-ee' as they referred to themselves.

Seeing his prey rotate its visor towards Fyze while desperately trying to reach for its primitive weapon made the Sangheili laugh. Fitting that a barbarian would meet such a dishonorable end such as this.

Fyze was almost tempted to allow the heretic to reach for its weapon for there was no honor in slaying an unarmed enemy. Then again, heretics deserved no mercy.

Raising his plasma rifle Fyze narrowed his eyes. He was about to squeeze the trigger when someone called for his attention. Both Fyze and the pinned Human turned, only to see a second armored Human bracing itself against cover.

Rolled: 2

Fyze's jaws opened and shuddered just as the bullets began to fly, activating his personal shield.

Dropping into cover, the Sangheili stepped off of the collapsed shelf and retreated behind another shelf filled with large mechanical parts. His shield flickered across several of his limbs but no projectile managed to pierce it. Once behind cover Fyze growled and peeked around the corner with one arm and half of his face in an effort to locate and target the lone Human engaging him.

His plasma rifle let loose a short burst of three blue plasma projectiles.

Rolled: 3

Plasma splashed all over Owen's cover, burning through it rapidly. Metal groaned as the shelf Owen used for cover started to slowly collapse under its own weight. Residual plasma jumped from the impact and fell onto parts of the ODST's armor. Suffering only minor damage from the plasma scoring the black armor was now dotted with small notches somewhat similar to that of acid burning through metal.

By now Davis had managed to lift the shelf pinning him down slightly and he was now able tor each for the M6G strapped to his thigh. Yanking it out of its holster with a single quick move Davis pulled the weapon towards him then up and over the shelf to line up a shot.

Rolled: 8

With a determined expression underneath his helmet Davis pulled the trigger twice and watched as the semi-exposed Elite was struck by the large caliber bullets of his Magnum. Already weakened by Bassett's own rifle-fire the shields gave up the moment the bullet impacted and as the second bullet reached its target the alien warrior's crimson armor was colored purple with blood.

The second bullet had tore a hole right through the Elite and most likely tore apart one or two organs- if not several blood-vessels- with it, forcing the great warrior known as Fyze 'Latanai to meet his ancestors far earlier than he himself had envisioned.

As the Elite took one final, gurgling, breath Davis slumped back and allowed his helmet to rest on the concrete floor. "Not a second too soon, Bassett. Not a second too soon..." He said aloud.

Outside the sound of the Spirit's gravitational drive began to intensify as the craft appeared to move away from the warehouse. Despite this objectively good sign more clatter could be heard from within the warehouse, roughly in the same direction where the red Elite had appeared.

Solar Daddy

*
​

Admin Building - Lobby

Black nodded. "I understand," he said, seemingly speaking to thin air. Uzi and Langdon remained near the reception desk with the former watching the entrance closely with his weapon in a low-ready position. After broadcasting an SOS via the facility's array of antenna it hadn't taken long for the Tangible Excuse to reach out. Concerned that the prowler would be triangulated and shot down, Black had urged Captain Gentry to minimize surface communication to short, encrypted, tightbeam transmissions only.

That's when Gentry had briefed the ONI team-leader on the situation in orbit and explained that Karma was routing the communications through layers upon layers of proxies which in turn piggybacked on transmission feeds sent from the UNSC Empire- one of three recently arrived reinforcing vessels.

After giving a quick explanation of the situation on the ground Black had been surprised to hear that the cavalry was already on the way, though the outgoing traffic had indeed alerted nearby Covenant forces.

Looking up, Black began to speak over TEAMCOM;

"Listen up, team. Reinforcements and evac is en route right now. Unfortunately our direct call to the Tangible resulted in some two Covenant patrols changing course to our location. That means we'll need to hold our ground until they get here. I expect it won't take more than five minutes for our chariots to arrive but- for safeties sake- let's presume we'll be stuck here for another thirty. Plan accordingly."

Just then the Spirit outside began to move. A ping on Black's tacpad notified him that the alien craft was inbound towards the ONI facility. "Spirit's inbound. Anyone got a plan to deal with it?"

"Stand by, sir." Replied Grey over TEAMCOM with a voice as calm as ever...

Calibutcher
DrabberRogue
Kenshin772

*

​

"X-Building" - Lower Floor

"There," said Grey only so that Lyster and King could hear. "It's opening."

Having installed a data-spike into the security station Grey had officially began to scrub most of the on-site vital systems and storage. It was the last and final step of the work they had been sent here to carry out and after being wiped the spike would trigger built-in safety mechanisms, igniting several low-yield charges that would scrap the server mainframes for good.

Alongside these handy brute-force programs were a powerful decryption software which in turn had unlocked the security station. Then, as Lyster and King mounted up on the armed truck, Grey had activated the external site defenses. Now the depot was filled with the roar of the heavy vehicle engine as Grey slid down the ladder and jogged over to the vehicle. In front of it the reinforced doors were slowly opening with the innermost doors parting to the left and right to reveal the roll-up garage doors observed from the outside.

Truly, ONI had built this place like a fortress.

Closing the door behind her Grey took a deep breath and nodded to King in the driver's seat. Between the two of them were Lyster's armored legs, positioned on a piece of black stepping plate directly underneath the gunner's hatch.

"Go."

Outside the Spirit grey closer and closer. It would require a combined effort of the entire team to bring it down with the weapons they carried. That or wait for the automated defenses to do it for them.

0stinato
Worthlessplebian

 

[SpazTheButcher]

Ray silently moved his mechanical left arm in front of him, the motors whirling as he brought it into position. Due to his new ODST status, he had the arm upgraded and a comms system and uplink had been installed into it. Using his right arm, he changed frequencies and set up his HUD. Sending his own signal to not Alvarez, but someone above(if there was someone above) he took a BR55 mag and knocked it against his helmet three times, his own sort of good luck ritual. Then Ray's mind started shifting from ODST to Marine.

Ray was deciding whether or not to be serious or funny, and Ray knew that casualties would be high, and if they thought back to his pep talk, what would they want to remember? Some guy joking about how they would all die, or some solid advice? Ray decided the joking would be best, and he would save the advice for combat. These guys were, of course, combat vets. Most guys didn't make it to ODST without some funny bone, and those who lacked one didn't last long. He set his headset to SQUADCOM so the unit could hear him. Hell when did he get all old and start making speeches? Ray was only 20-something years old, but he was now a grizzled Sergeant. He had "the look".

"Alright Jumpheads, listen up." Everyone turned to him save for the driver, "These split face fuck bags have been glassing planets for a while now, and what we have here today, is a chance to hit back. The civvies are safe, so personally, I want to send these sorry S.O.B.S. an uppercut straight to hell, not give them some half-assed bitch slap. Command may call in the long arm of the UNSC(Bombers), but you can never be sure with these bastards, cuz they have shields, plasma guns, and shit you've only seen in films. But we got something they don't have. And it's not god, country, or Corps. We have empty stomachs, and I'm hungry as hell. So when we hit the place, shit'll be hotter than New Mexico, but I'm hungrier than a pitbull and I want fucking breakfast, so let's kick some Covie ass so we can get back for some fucking cereal! Oorah!"

Ray grinned and adjusted his helmet, with it's telltale spades one each side. He remembered the dumbass officer who did it. Before the 99th, Ray spent one eventful week with the 101st "Screaming Eagles" ODST Regiment. The company commander thought that as a way to "boost morale", he would resort to an old WW2 tactic, by painting a cards suit on each platoon's helmet as a way to help identification after a drop. Ray was lucky he got spades, the poor guys who got hearts were pissed. He VISR slid down and smiled. He was back in his element.

Viper Actual

 

[Calibutcher]

After he heard the explosion from his first rocket he was hoping to find a sense of relief. Instead, a hail of fire pelted the building, and based on the shudders from his robotic companion Big Dawg took some hits as well. He worried little about Dawg until the second rocket splashed down and not long after a rain of gunfire ended the brief skirmish. He sat there and worked to control his breathing waiting to see if any more fire would rain down on them.

“You good Bunny?” He called on a private channel.

“Yes!” Came a high-pitched reply.

Bret sighed and his helmet dropped slightly. He took in a breath and peered over Big Dawg and looked out the windows. He saw the destruction of his rockets and grunts sprawled about, dead grunts. His favorite kind, he reflected. An all Clear was called out and He set to loading his launcher again. Once complete he checked his ammo carrier. Fresh plasma marks still cooling on the metal hide dripped residue and most notably one on the leg rotors had been hit. Brent frowned and brought up his wrist pad. He ran a quick diagnostic and found that the leg was still partially functional but it would not rotate to allow for the proper waking motion. “Big Dawg is hobbled, but still mobile.” He said to Bunny.

“How about you?” Bunny asked still tense from the recent firefight.

“Fine, no injuries.” He said flatly. He stared out the window at the next threat, The phantom floating in the distance drew his attention and his eyes narrowed at the threat. The floating craft was hard to judge but quickly he determined it was in fact moving towards them. He looked back to his ammo carrier, in a red crate was a tube loaded with Thermobaric rounds, essentially high yield rockets. A lucky strike to the phantom could cook off the plasma inside. But did he want to waste such a precious resource now? Looking back to the phantom bearing down at them answered his question. He quickly moved to Big Dawg and began switching tubes.

He opened his team com and made his inquiry. “I’ve got ordinance for the phantom if someone can draw its fire and give me time unless anyone else has a bright idea?”

Ugly lookin’ thing, and coming from Lyster that meant something. His face as a sculpted work was far away from those handsome whitewashed statues that deserved their place in mind and memory of Earth, but even he thought the Spirit was hideous. A tuning fork, a - ahem - marital aid, hell, perhaps the love child of both? Still, better show it some respect if it was going to be the enemy in this scuffle.

‘Go ahead Bang. King’s got the wheel and I’ve got firepower. If you’ve got a plan for the giant space dildo, we’ll set you up,’ Lyster reported with a grin. The panic was getting there, pulsing right under his collarbones. They hadn’t been able to test this truck’s maneuverability and Spirits were particularly effective against ground troops and slow-moving vehicles. Still, take it down, grave-destined, and you’ve got yourself a prime spot in purgatory while you await your sentencing.


“You found some more firepower?” Bang knew that they were here to secure some kind of weapon but he hadn’t figured it would be something they could actually use. “Well the more the merrier I suppose. The tricky bit is I need to shove a rocket right down the middle, think you can get it pointing at me?”

With the rotation abilities of the Spirit’s mounted weapon on its undercarriage, Lyster knew the only certain way of ensuring the ship would point its two prongs towards Bang would be down to King’s driving: they’d have to lure the Spirit to move towards Bang.

‘We’ll do our best. And when you get the chance, don’t miss.’

What else needed to be said? He could jokingly add that he’d turn the turret on Bang, but he didn’t trust his dry delivery to be picked up by everyone on the team. Best to keep his mouth closed than risk someone thinking he might actually do it.

Though, it would be funny to actually do it. It’d be even funnier to actually shoot, too.

‘Alright King, you heard the plan? This is gonna be down to you, mate.’

Bang shuffled in place for a moment and looked to the roof access door, for this shot to work he may want to be a little higher, he finished switching tubes out and went for the door.

“Bunny sit tight on that door.”

“Ok..” There was a pause in her voice and the comm remained open for several seconds as she worked to move her mouth. Fear boiled in her as the shadows in the office pulled at her fears. But she was told to watch the door, keep Bret safe. “Rodger that, Bret.” She cut the comm and stamped in place as she tried to quell her worries a little longer.

 

[Worthlessplebian]

King had meandered around as the Lyster and Grey did their preparation. Things really started moving when Grey had finished her preparations. Literally. The roar of heavy machinery filled King's ears through his helmet. Bringing back memories of a lifetime ago, he remembers them from the ships that he lived on as an insurrectionist's son. King slung his battle rifle over his shoulder as he flung the vehicle's doors open, and jumped in behind the wheel. Checking where everything else by feeling. Once the checks were done, then he turned on the giant target.

Bang's voice came over the team com and before King could answer, Lyster had already volunteered for the cooperative work. He was going to do that anyway, but least now he doesn't have to speak it. "Ah, yea. That crossbar." King commented, obviously towards the shape that the Spirit reminded him of. He thinks that each person sees or is reminded of a different shape, like one of those blasted Rorschach tests.

Listening in on the plan, King agreed with its' premise though wasn't enthused with the whole ordeal. He turned to Lyster who sat in the vehicle. "If we get blown the shit up, ке ти купам питие в пеколот!" With that exchange out of the way, King revved the vehicle's mighty engine before blazing out of the X building as fast as he could. Remembering the plan, King drove or at least attempted to drive in such a way that he drew the Spirit's attention. Even honking his horn at annoying intervals. To be frank, King is kind of scary behind the wheel. Not scary as in bad, but at times it looks like he would tip them over but never getting that close. At one point, King opened the window and went: "WOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

ке ти купам питие в пеколот! - Buy you a drink in Hell!

0stinato
Calibutcher
Viper Actual

 

[Solar Daddy]

Owen only realized after the Elite had fallen that his heartbeat was near the intensity of an engine's piston firing off. Long after Davis rested his head on the ground out of relief, Bassett still kept his gun trained on the crimson armor just past the shelf, obscuring it slightly. Owen slowly approached, keeping his gun on the Elite while scanning the rest of the room to ensure he wouldn't be sliced in half on his regroup efforts. Then, Bassett offered a hand in lifting the shelf off Davis. "Mighty fine shooting, Sir," Owen said with a grunt as the object was removed from pinning Davis down. "Are you hurt?" Owen scanned the room once more while offering a hand to his superior, only now noticing the scorch marks coating his chest and right shoulder armor. Thank the heavens ODST armor had a bit of resistance to it, otherwise Owen wouldn't have survived the encounter. He was concerned about the integrity of it, though. His armor may not be able to handle any more plasma splash like that in the same spots, so he'd need to be extra careful.

"There's more clatter going on in the back, where the Major came from." Owen readied his rifle and reloaded a fresh magazine into it; he'd ammo-dumped the alien to empty, but barely hit his shots from the suppressive fire and obstacles in his way. Plasma was a damn intimidating weapon to go against. Once he finished, Owen looked to Davis for orders. "Tremell, Prieto, you there?" He asked into his comms, hoping he'd get a response back from both.

 

[Viper Actual]

Mountaineer's Rest - Final Approach

As Ray's speech echoed over SQUADCOM the other ODSTs fell silent. A faint smirk appeared on Captain Yasir's face with Corporal Tiggs raising a fist in silent support of the JTAC-operator's attempt to boost morale. In the same Warthog as Alvarez and Ray the troopers in front uttered a silent "Hoorah" in unison. One of the Warthog gunners banged on his gunshield twice as well, earning him the glare of a more serious and slightly more veteran ODST sergeant in the same vehicle.

Clearly, regardless of what awaited them, Yasir's QRF were pumped up and ready to go.

*​

Opting for a more strategic approach, Captain Yasir had ordered his QRF to halt and dismount a good distance away from Mountaineer's Rest. Even with ONI intel a frontal assault into enemy-held territory was incredibly risky- a risk Yasir would gladly try to avoid if possible.

Having parked farther down the road in a slight curvature a fireteam of three had been left behind to guard the line of Warthogs as Yasir and his troopers began to maneuver up through the cliffs. The terrain was relentless;

With uneven and sharp rocks protruding everywhere the "footpaths" weren't much more than slim passages to squeeze through. Despite being difficult to navigate and traverse however the terrain offered a significant advantage in the way of preventing enemy ground forces from mounting an effective assault. Terrain such as this would stop the tall and proud Elites, not to mention preventing the short and stubby Grunts from moving forth as well.

That said, the slender and highly agile Jackals would have the best odds at moving through the cliffs but they would in turn have to evade armor-piercing rifle fire from Yasir and his troops.

"We're almost at the top," said Yasir as he continued to squeeze through the knife-shaped cliffs surrounding him. Indeed, the QRF were nearing the summit which should give them a good view of the town and its surrounding terrain.

A few steps behind Cpl. Alvarez cursed underneath his breath. The radio gear on his back made the hike a bit more difficult though it was far from impossible. A faint chuckle escaped from the ODST as he glanced back at Ray. "You good back there, Ray? Or is all that weight on your back too much for Sgt. Gramps?"

"Quiet," said Tiggs, who was moving in front of them. The trooper was carrying a stripped down SR-7 on his back alongside a grenade launcher dangling off of a sling. He was surprisingly silent considering the amount of weapons and munitions he was carrying, though perhaps that might be why Yasir always chose to bring him along for the more sensitive operations.

After another two minutes of relatively silent hiking the QRF reached the summit. With spikes poking up from the ground in every direction there was ample cover and camouflage. Yasir used hand signals to order everyone and soon enough the top of the hill was covered by pairs of ODSTs evenly spread out.

Tiggs remained near the top accompanied by Alvarez whereas Ray had been ordered to stay close to Captain Yasir himself. As Yasir produced a rangefinder from one of his utility pouches he nodded towards the town. "Eyes up, people. Covenant ID'd."

As the trooper peered down towards the town a single Spirit moved away from them and lazily idled above the large facility outside of town. This lone Spirit however was not the cause of any immediate concern;

Visible only from their position one of the smaller cliffside roads was buzzing with activity. Unknown to Yasir and his men this very same road had been used by the ONI team currently residing within the covert facility situated below the Spirit a short while ago. Yasir mouthed a silent curse under his visor as a column of no less than fifty Grunts marched up the road. Flanking them were several Skirmishers- T'vaoan's in the Covenant language- armed with medium to long-range Needler rifles.

At the head of the column walked an Elite in red armor whom in turn was flanked by four of his kin donning blue armor whereas two Wraith mortar gun carriages hummed at the rear. If any of Yasir's people had survived this far- not to mention the ONI assets he had been ordered to secure- they wouldn't last much longer against a force that size. Thankfully the column of enemy forces were taking their time to advance up the road and they were still a good distance away from the town of Mountaineer's Rest.

Lowering his rangefinder Yasir looked at Ray and gestured with one hand towards the column. "Person! Get on the horn ASAP!" Yasir rotated his hand, making it flat, before moving it forward in a sweeping motion. "I want some of our air support to strafe that location. HE or AP- I don't care- tell them we'll mark it with IR."

That said, Captain Yasir placed the rangefinder on the cover in front of him. He shouldered his BR-55 and took a deep breath while waiting for Ray to make the call. Somewhere not too far away support would be ready and waiting for the call to swoop in and save the day.

SpazTheButcher

*
​

Mountaineer's Rest - Warehouse

Unlike his more senior and experienced peer, Koso 'Nasam wore the blue-colored Sangheili combat harness associated with the military backbone of the Covenant.
Despite his inferior rank and ancestry however Koso had shown repeatedly that he was a devout follower of the Great Journey and a capable fighter as well.

This had in turn earned him the favor of Fyze 'Latanai- the commanding officer responsible for this lance- and a position by his side. Sangheili tradition demanded for Koso to serve without fault and with a unbreakable resolve. Koso had no issues with this for if the ancestors blessed him then his loyal service would earn House Nasam the favor of House Latanai- something that far outweighed Koso's own pride.

Unfortunately for both Koso and Fyze these would-be plans for a long and healthy alliance between two minor but prominent houses were shattered into pieces the moment Fyze was felled by one of the Humans.

With a hint of panic in his eyes Koso was unable to avert his eyes as Fyze charged- most likely having been detected- and engaged the enemy. Like a crude and mocking gesture Fyze was gunned down as if he was no more than a mere Unggoy dreg.

Koso watched the entire scene unfold via a small opening between two shelves filled to the brim with storage crates.

As Fyze took one final, gurgling, breath Koso felt his determination leave him. His shoulders slumped and his eyes were now filled with hesitation. Clearly Fyze had paid the ultimate price for underestimating the Humans.
Koso's shoulders slumped further as the Spirit announced its departure.

Stranded inside an enemy structure with no one to order or direct him Koso felt the sense of panic at the back of his mind grow more intense by the second.

What if he were to deliver a final avenging strike? Surely some of the Kig-Yar had survived and were ready to assist?

Koso shook his head. No, he could not expect any support in his current position. Relying on Kig-Yar mercenaries for help had been the death of many and Koso wished not to be added to that long list of casualties. Despite the obvious consequences that would come with retreating from battle Koso knew better than to waste his life attacking a numerically superior foe. With this in mind he retreated farther back into the shadows, hoping to remain unseen.

Moments later he had vanished completely, having snuck out through a unlocked backdoor leading into the warehouse.

Elsewhere the remaining Kig-Yar mercenaries also retreated. Having lost the support of the nearby Spirit alongside the loss of their commander as well as several of their peers meant that they were in a particularly exposed situation. Thus, one Kig-Yar quickly scurried through the warehouse in the relative cover of two shelves whereas the second one abandoned its post at the roof in favor of lower and less exposed terrain.

For now, the skirmish surrounding the Mountaineer's Rest warehouse had concluded in a decisive UNSC victory. Little did those inside know however that a far larger and much more immediate danger loomed on the horizon...

Davis was quick to get back on his feet, nodding his thanks to Owen before shouldering his rifle. Not too far away the dead Elite remained as still as one expected a dead alien to be. "We need to regroup and move out. By the sound of things the Spirit has moved away, should make it easier for us to retreat out of the town."

Just then the SQUADCOM crackled to life as Tremell responded to Owen;

"We read you, Bassett. Prieto and I are making our way towards the main entrance shortly. We got one dead civilian here and one alive- a kid no less."

By now the warehouse had once again turned completely silent. Whatever had just left had done so in a hurry. Davis nodded towards Owen. "Let's go. We need to fall back while we still can."

Moments later the two troopers reunited with Prieto and Tremell who in turn were accompanied by a young boy. He couldn't be more than ten years of age- if even that. Red coloration around his eyes hinted that the boy might have cried recently and as Davis looked to Tremell for answers the Lance-Corporal shook his head. "His father didn't make it, sir."

Davis nodded. "I'm sorry for your loss," he said, nodding towards the boy. The boy however remained silent.

Outside not too far away from the town the rumble of an engine emerged...

Solar Daddy
queendilettante

*
​

ONI Facility - Courtyard (w. Adjacent Buildings)

As the flying fork drew closer and closer its crew prepared to pepper the structures below with boiling-hot plasma fire. Unfortunately for them their plan to engage the three figures crocuhed behind cover on the main building roof were delayed as the ONI truck more or less catapulted up the ramp and out onto the tarmac.

Surprised, the turret on the Spirit rotated to track the moving target with the entire Spirit re-orienting itself to face the target as well. Despite adavnced electronic targeting systems the crew- a pair of Unggoys- much more preferred shooting at something they could see through the viewport. Had there been an Elite nearby to guide them they kight have received a harsh scolding for exposing the dropships weakpoint so easily but currently the Spirit's superior officers were either lying dead inside a warehouse or in the wind.

Thus, turning the entire craft around to witness the destruction of the truck seemed like a very good idea.

That is, until the truck opened fire.

Rolled: 4

Heavy-caliber rounds impacting the hull created a repeated clink which echoed throughout the craft. Some exposed and much lighter armored parts of the Spirit were struck as Lyster's sustained machinegun fire peppered the craft but all in all the Spirit remained intact.

The truck continued to drive- now moving directly below the Spirit- in an attempt to lure the dropship towards the damaged office complex.

Unamused by the attempt on their life the crew returned fire...

Rolled: 2

...only to miss catastrophically. Plasma splashed the tarmac next to the truck and created tiny craters all around but the truck remained undamaged aside from some minor secondary plasma-scoring lining the left side of the hull.

King continued to accelerate and Grey grabbed onto the handle placed above the door as the heavy vehicle started to follow the curved road. By now the spirit had rotated to face the truck as well as the office complex.

Rolled: 6

A rocket suddenly streaked through the sky and struck the Spirit between its two pontoons. It did not impact the cockpit viewport- but it had landed close enough. The anti-gravity field at the center of the craft used to carry cargo and vehicles blinked and faded, having been disabled by the rocket. Meanwhile the right pontoon sparked in various locations with the troop bay going as far as opening up halfway.

Inside alarms blared as a wave of purple-ish flames engulfed the interior. The Spirit drooped slightly to the right though despite the severity of the damage the craft remained operational with its turret now focusing entirely on the office complex.

Before it could do anything however the team perched up on the admin building let loose a round of deadly weapons fire!

Rolled: 8

Angled towards the office complex meant exposing the cockpit viewport towards the admin building as well- a mistake that would prove to be incredibly costly. In a feat of astonishing luck Rose, Doc and Hayworth all opened fire simultaneously. A pair of APFDS-rounds shattered the viewport whereas armor-piercing BR and DMR projectiles peppered the craft's crew into pieces.

Inside the Unggoy manning the turret was killed instantly after receiving the brunt of it all while the pilot wheezed as his chest, arms and methane tank were injured and severely damaged. Attempting to disengage from the clearly far superior ONI forces the Spirit started to turn away from the facility in an attempt to flee.

"Good shooting out there," said Black over TEAMCOM. "We're not out of the woods yet though- stay sharp!"

Inside the truck's cab Grey monitored her datapad with renewed interest while shaking her head. By now the truck had rounded the courtyard centerpiece and had a clear line of sight over the half-decimated checkpoint and the burning Spirit retreating. "I can't believe that worked," she muttered while still shaking her head. Grey looked to King before continuing; "Base defenses should be coming online soon- though I doubt we'll need them."

Calibutcher
DrabberRogue
Kenshin772
ONI
0stinato
Worthlessplebian

 

[SpazTheButcher]

Ray grinned at the Corporal's comment, and at Tigg's orders to essentially shut up. He wasn't a damn gramps, and this was lightweight. He remembered being a glorified powder monkey way back when he was still a private. Hauling belts of ammo to keep the gun firing was a hell of a job. They reached the top, and Ray pulled up his battle rifle, and used his pitiful x2 sight to sweep the town, his eyes flowing from the Spirit to the cute parade. Nice marching group. Would be a shame if something happened to it.

Then he heard the Captain's orders, and Ray grinned. AP or HE? That wasn't even a debate. Ray loved some fireworks. HE all day baby. He switched his comms and opened up a channel with ground forces located at the space-port.

"Baseplate Baseplate, this is Minuteman, we have eyes on Covvies in the open, lightly armored, moving Northwest. Targets are on unknown coordinates, we will be marking their position with IR. Requesting immediate Alpha strike via Sierra Sierra* to destroy all targets. Current friendlies marked on coordinates Romeo 192-384"

He heard the radio bark back a response. "Copy Minuteman, we have Sierra Sierras en route. Standby for effects."

Getting ready for the fireworks, he then dug into what should have been a pistol holster and withdrew an H-165 Target Designator. Ray rested his rifle against a rock and pointed the tiny device at the convoy, using his VISR to let it lock on the targets. He held it's spot and followed the grunts as they marched up the road. Keeping it pointed at them, he turned his head at the sound of gunfire and watched the Spirit beginning to take heavy weapons fire. Some ballsy shit to open up on a Spirit like that, and Ray had to give them credit for it. He almost turned and made a joke to Alvarez, but immediately remembered the power in his hands and the need to not get distracted, lest he pointed it down and got his own guys killed.

*(Sierra Sierra is phonetic for Shortswords)

 

[Viper Actual]

Elsewhere...

The ever so iconic staccato of conventional weapons fire echoed through the many streets of Verent City, being only occasionally drowned out by the sound of heavy weapons or explosives going off. Similarly the harrowing whisper of plasma weapons could be heard as well with UNSC and Covenant forces exchanging blows at multiple locations.

High above the skyscrapers UNSC Pelicans could be seen flying to and from hot-spots carrying either fresh troops into the fray or transporting wounded back to the Verent City spaceport for medical care. Covenant Banshees and dropships- both Phantoms and Spirits- attempted to use the very same skyscrapers to cover their advances though automated air defenses were quick to either deter the craft or shoot them out of the sky like a hand swatting a mosquito.

Far away past the downtown districts, the surrounding boroughs and industrial zones a lone excavation beam from a Covenant cruiser painted the horizon in a warm, orange color. This terrifying sight was broken up partially by the jagged outline of the Jigsaw Mountains.

Despite all this chaos the UNSC ground forces were- surprisingly- holding their own side of the frontline pretty well. Armored units, mechanized infantry and elite special forces had been paired up with local UNSCDF Army forces, members of the Verent Planetary Militia and even officers of the Verent City Constabulary donning SWAT-gear. So far the Covenant had only managed to advance through (mostly) evacuated areas which in turn led to them throwing themselves at reinforced UNSC strong-points and fortified outposts.

To help with such a massive defensive effort the local UNSC Air Force garrison had mustered every flight-worthy craft capable of supporting ground operations in any way possible. State-of-the-art C712 Longsword bombers were carrying out strategic strikes whereas AV-19 SkyHawk jumpjet craft were strafing enemy infantry in an effort to delay their advance.

From both a logistical and a tactical standpoint such an operation was far too large to be handled effectively by UNSC flight controllers alone- which is why the lone flight control tower overlooking the increasingly crowded Verent City Spaceport runways, terminals and hangars had been filled to the brim with both military and civilian staff.

It was without a doubt crowded- but for the moment it would have to do. Cooling fans rotated back and forth in an attempt to alleviate the stress on everyone in the room as commands were exchanged between controllers and pilots as well as controllers and ground crews. Senior staff in olive drab combat uniforms were joined by civilians with security card lanyards around their necks as they all guided the efforts of the spaceport together.

Outside the tower one of many UNSC command hubs- a glorified container resting on the bed of a heavy-duty truck- relayed the call for an air strike. The unit was marked as 'Prioritized - Level 1' which most likely meant UNSC special forces or a ONI team. To the controller that had received the request it didn't really matter. He looked at his second monitor which marked the fourth spaceport runway- R4- as available.

Looking up from and past his two monitors he could indeed confirm that the runway was clear of any aircraft and personnel. Nodding, he adjusted his headset with one hand while bringing up a list of available craft. Several B-65 Shortsword bombers had been put on reserve by someone way up the chain of command with the flight control system automatically "earmarking" them for special, high-level requests only.

The controller established a FLYCOM-link with two of the Shortswords going by the callsigns of Gladius 1-1 and Gladius 1-2. "VCSP Flight Control to Gladius 1-1 and 1-2, prepare for immediate take-off at R4."

A pair of winking lights blinked on the monitor and soon enough both crafts could be seen taxing out from a military hangar and out onto the runway. Chatter from both pilots and their respective crew began to sound while the controller waited for them signal that they were ready.

It didn't take long until the smooth voice of one of the pilots sounded in the controller's ear. "VCSP Flight this is Gladius 1-1 reporting ready for take-off, over."

"Acknowledged," replied the controller. He pushed a button to which blinking lights on both sides of the runway responded to. "Gladius 1-1 you are cleared for take-off. Good luck."

"Roger," replied the pilot. "Commencing take-off. Gladius 1-1, out."

* * *
​

It didn't take long for the support to arrive. Technically it only took forty-three point five seconds as Henry, the battalion AI, had informed Yasir and everyone else in the QRF of. Still, air support that fast was rare these days as most theaters of war would witness skies filled with swarms of Banshees. Yasir kept his BR trained on the enemy forces as they continued to march up on the road.

By now everyone in the QRF- including Ray- had been pinged by Henry to let them know that the Shortswords were fast approaching.

Suddenly their SQUADCOM crackled to life;

"Minuteman, Minuteman this is Gladius 1-1 on strike approach. ETA 5 seconds- hold on to your helmets down there."

The ODSTs on the mountain remained perfectly still. Behind them the first Shortsword was beginning to become visible. As it moved closer tiny flashes erupted at its nose.

Rolled: 5

At first nothing was happening but then chaos erupted within the blink of an eye as the dirt-road began to spew dust and rocks. Surprised, a third of the column turned to see what was happening but by the time they noticed the Shortsword screams filled the air as numerous alien soldiers were torn to shreds by explosive 30mm ammuniton. One of the Wraiths was flung to the side as some of the projectiles struck its side, causing an explosive reaction within.

The Shortsword flew past the carnage at supersonic speeds and was followed by a long BRRRTTTTT-sound that echoed across the mountains.

Once again the SQUADCOM sounded as the pilot spoke;

"Gladius 1-1, strike complete. Requesting splash and additional intel for Gladius 1-2, over."

Down below the second Wraith was tugging the left side of the road at an increased speed. Meanwhile the Grunts and Skirmishers that had survived the initial strike were fanning out or tending to their casualties. The Elites at the front however were barking out orders in an attempt to increase spacing though for now they were making little in the way of progress.

Captain Yasir nodded towards Ray. "Call in the second strike while they're still in shock- we'll take care of the survivors."

SpazTheButcher

 

[SpazTheButcher]

Ray grinned like a kid. He watched as the Shortsword pounded the hostile column. It wasn't as effective as he would like, but some support is better than none. He heard Alvarez whooping as the guns began to whirl up and spit out fire. He almost told him to shut up, but Tiggs took care of that for him.

"Hell yeah, good hits One One, good hits. One affirm armor kill. Gladius One Two, maintain heading and distance. This time egress to your starboard side. One One was a little to close to that enemy bird, over."

"Copy Minuteman, this is One Two, bringing the thunder."

Ray now took and opportunity to look through the designator's scopes at the scene below. It was chaos. Covvies bleeding out, a wrecked wraith. They didn't know what hit them. Now they knew how he felt. How it felt to be minding your damned business, only to one day find that your whole company was cut off and there was nothing you could do about it. Humanity had been the lamb for too damned long. Now, the Humans were the Wolves. The predator turned into the prey. His eyes twinkled darkly as Ray awaited One Two's strike.

 

[0stinato]

The second Lyster processed the perfect shots by Bang and the roof crew, seeing the two-pronged threat moving waspishly above them veer round to retreat, he let go of the machine gun and flexed his hands, needing to stretch the tendons to free them from the rocky kickback. He gurned to himself, a full-toothed mirthless grin, and took the gun again. His countenance would truly have been a sight to behold if his visor was transparent, but the planet was mercifully spared the view, only getting the usual pink tint as he moved his head. His helm kept him faceless, anonymous enough to die with no eulogy. An exoskeleton that made him fully disposable. Maybe that’s why he was sitting at the turret now; he’d take a full plasma cannon round to the face if that was his death-right, but if that spirit even thought about coming back, he’d finish what Bang started.

Of course, he wanted them dead. Everyone did. The sheer glee that had run off King when the plan got in gear proved his side of things, and Black’s confirmation provided the rest of the context. Still, shooting wildly at the craft now would only succeed in wasting precious ammunition, ammunition they might just need if they were heading towards Verent city.

He gurned once more for good measure at the Spirit’s retreating shape then leaned round to throw a peace sign up at the roof gang. A little gesture of acknowledgement. Some people liked throwing up a fist, a rebellion, but Lyster had preferred the peace sign. Preferred its ironic history and its grave future. Peace for now, V for victory, and with a mere twist of the wrist, a fuck-you directed outwards.

‘Want to take her for a spin around the complex, King? Make sure nothing’s lurking where it shouldn’t and all,’ Lyster suggested, stretching his hands again.

A tiny victory, a tiny little win, a complex defended for now. Hopefully there was a reason for bothering to defend it, given the weapon was somewhere else. Perhaps that reason was just to hold out until any remaining civilians could be evacuated. That was worth it, right? Would they take George’s corpse? Eject it in space and shatter it like a snowball hitting a window? Ah’m sorry ma’am, but yer husband’s space dust bah naow.

What a life, for the civvie who tried to kill him to get a eulogy yet he knew his own would just be a footnote, a name amongst the slew of others, and lost in the names of other Lysters unrelated to him. At least his own name would command the top though: A. ‘Lull’ Lyster. Can’t get a letter earlier than that in the alphabet.

--
Interactions: Worthlessplebian Kenshin772 DrabberRogue
Mentions: Calibutcher

 

[Worthlessplebian]

Thanks to King's expert driving and the Unggoys' staggering incompetence, this sheer suicide plan worked. He did not know when or how, but King's armoured boots had left an unnoticeable indentation in the pedals. He slowed the truck around the centrepiece to a stop, then turned his head to the window. The view dimly reflected off his ashen visor; the trail of purple fire shined brighter than the rest. A faint smirk began to grow underneath that standard-issue helmet. On the battlefield, it is hell for everyone involved. But in King's eyes, this collective of xeno-trash were not to be pitied, not to be coddled, and not to be understood unless it involved learning how to best them.

With a tap of the button, the window of this gun-mounted truck lowered down with a squeak. King draped his elbow over the open window. The rushing current of chemicals from the combat high had begun to die down. King slowly returned to his naturally calm state. Black's voice broke the silence that had possessed King. "Black, this is King. Copy. We'll keep our eyes sharp." Immediately after sending the transmission, Grey who had taken refuge in the back of the enclosed truck exclaimed her surprise. King glanced back, meeting her gaze. "If I'm being honest with you, Agent... My hopes weren't high either," There was no mistaking the sincerity in his voice, this plan had recklessness written all over it but being an ONI agent meant that he had to deal with mind-bending outlandish scenarios all the time.

Lyster, who had manned the gun, suggested to take the little-truck-that-could around for a spin. A patrolling assignment. Fine, King thought. "Affirmative." He shot it back to Lyster. His radio buzzed to life as he explained his plan to Black. "Black, this is King. We're doing a perimeter sweep, will inform you if we find anything. Over" Once finished, King awoke the sleeping beast and revved its' engines, waiting for Black's response.

0stinato Viper Actual

 

[Viper Actual]

Mountaineer's Rest - Final Approach

As the remaining Covenant soldiers were beginning to re-orient themselves down on the semi-cratered road Ray's intel had been passed out among the second Shortsword's crew. After acknowledging the crew chief- doubling as co-pilot- aboard Gladius 1-2 sent all relevant data to the system technician seated at the back of the cockpit.

The strike path had been slightly altered to cause maximum casualties on the ground in one, final, lethal flyby.

By now the enemy commander had spotted the UNSC craft far above the mountains and were barking out orders to his forces. Time to strike at the column grew more scarce with each passing second as the majority of hostiles on the road prepared to fan out further.

Rolled: 5

Sadly, whatever gods the Covenant revered had chosen to turn a blind eye on the Jigsaw Mountains;

SQUADCOM crackled to life as Gladius 1-2 drew near. "Guns, guns, guns."

Again the ground was riddled with explosive projectiles, absolutely decimating the surviving alien combatants. The second Wraith was over-penetrated by a swarm of projectiles which caused it to explode on the spot. The shockwave tossed several Grunts and Skirmishers off their feet whereas nearby Elites had their energy shields flare up and even fail depending on how close they were to the armored vehicle.

Counted among the casualties of the second strike was the Elite commander as well, leaving the a dozen and a half survivors without effective leadership and in a state of complete shock and disarray.

As Gladius 1-2 screamed past the mountains the silky-smooth voice of its female pilot reached Ray's ear. "Gladius 1-2, strike complete. We're RTB- good luck down there, boys. Over and out."

Before either Ray or Yasir could send a response the latter raised his head slightly. "All elements, prepare to engage on my mark." Yasir tightened the grip around his BR and offered Ray a momentary glance before further steadying himself.

"Fire!"

SpazTheButcher

*
​

ONI Facility - Courtyard (w. Adjacent Buildings)

"Yeah! Get 'sum you gas-guzzling babies!" Yelled Hayworth over the ONI TEAMCOM. Up on the roof the ODST corporal stood up in a half-crouch only to raise a defiant fist and pump it twice before resuming to shoulder his rifle.

"If I'm being honest with you, Agent... My hopes weren't high either..."

Grey had, up to that point, remained silent since the heavy-duty truck had pummeled its way out onto the courtyard. She visible relaxed and let out a deep sigh followed by taking a long, deep breath. "Yeah," she said, closing her eyes briefly. "That was one for the history books."

Outside the Spirit continued to distance itself though when a UNSC Shortsword suddenly appeared the enemy dropship shook and rumbled slightly because of the extreme turbulence that followed. Deciding that it was unfit for an air-to-air engagement the Spirit decreased its altitude and began to zig-zag through some of the larger mountain outcroppings for extra cover before vanishing out of sight.

When Lyster suggested a recon sweep Grey looked at King and nodded silently. "It won't hurt to check our surroundings for a bit."

Black's voice echoed through the comms of those currently riding or otherwise manning the truck; "Understood. Keep me posted and try not to stray too far."

"I'm getting word that the first wave of UNSC reinforcements are on the mountain and en route to our location." Just then the second Shortsword screamed past above the complex, causing a loud bang as it broke the sound-barrier during its rapid ascent.

"Apparently they just engaged an enemy column on their way to Mountaineer's Rest."

Calibutcher
DrabberRogue
Kenshin772
ONI
0stinato
Worthlessplebian

 

[Worthlessplebian]

King smirked at Grey's comments. About history and documentation. These fields are no strangers in King's experience. Being an agent of section I, King will be the one to clean up everyone's reports after the matter. That is if he survives this whole wretched ordeal. A grimace beneath the obscuring helmet indicated that he did not have much hope. "Yea... History." He mentions off-handedly. Then through the roaring of the engine, Black's clandestine voice broke through. He approved the suggestion to sweep, surely much to Lyster's glee. King's posture changed from its' relaxed form in the seat.

A depression of the clutch and a swing of the transmission stick later, the vehicle began to move. Not too fast but not slow. King drove around the compound, throwing attention to anything that seemed peculiar. There is little to notice, the security fence had encircled the entire compound. The rear fence almost contacted the neighbouring mountain. An interesting vehicle stood next to a limply, blinking light. It was the emergency exit, still signalling to anyone present of its' use. The vehicle had been ATV that was to be used to transfer the civilian population. King stepped on the brake. "Strange, how everybody just up and left the all-terrain over there." Lifting a finger to point. "You think any science guys managed to sneak off, tovarishes?" If Lyster or Grey would suggest investigating the ATV then King would stop. If they didn't, King continued his driving.

0stinato Viper Actual

tovarishes - comrades.

 

[SpazTheButcher]

"Great hits Two One, happy trails, out."

Ray holstered his target designator as the strike absolutely destroyed the Covenant convoy. He was so happy that he yelled out as the order to open up on the survivors was given, "Yee Haw!" He let his BR55 bark as he sent rounds down range. Each burst was mostly well aimed, but just at a glance one could tell that Ray was having fun.

"Alvarez, what was that about being old? I think I just blew up a convoy while you just sat on your ass. You kids nowadays have no motivation at all." Ray said with fake disappointment. He reloaded his rifle and dumped another mag of the convoy's remnants.

 

[Solar Daddy]

Owen's gaze drifted to the floor for a moment at the mention of the civilian casualty. Luckily it wasn't the child; though he seldom found comfort in a pyrrhic victory like that. The father was dead. Owen and his fellow soldiers did what they could, and luckily they'd kept more casualties from racking up. Giving a quick glance around to make sure he wasn't in a vulnerable spot, Owen checked his weapon and ensured his ammunition counter displayed a full mag. He then dropped the barrel to a low-ready stance. "Hear that?" Bassett asked and grinned, almost to himself, as the roar of engines in the distance slowly cascaded Mountaineer's Rest. Owen was more than surprised air support was available with Verent City in flames a few miles away. What kind of asset were they protecting way out here?

Regardless of their target, Owen would gladly take whatever help they could provide. Knocking down a Covenant target would make securing Mountaineer's Rest all the more easier. They'd secured the warehouse, but the town itself was still vulnerable to incursion. Owen couldn't keep himself from peeking out the door carefully, just in time to see the second Sword pass by. The rumbling of the ground and the sudden brightness of missile fire accompanied by plasma explosions caused Owen to raise his fist triumphantly; whatever they were aiming at must've been a hit, and a good one at that. "Hit 'em hard," He said under his breath. The AOE was much closer than he expected; the force the Swords targeted must've been passing through close to the town. The thought of having to fend off a Covenant column with just him and a handful of ODST's weighed on him a bit; he believed in their strength, but all it took was one good hit from a Wraith to turn their stalwart defense into a Covenant victory. Regardless, thanks to the jets, Owen knew they'd have considerably better odds in the fight.

"Sounds like they're having all the fun without us, Sir." Owen said while glancing down the road. "We're missing out." Bassett was half tempted to get a better look at the invading force, but they had an orphaned kid in their company now; suicide missions were on hold for the time being, unfortunately. With the others finally joining back up with Davis and himself, Bassett gripped his rifle and prepared to move out - whether that was towards the fight or away from it, Owen wasn't sure. The kid complicated things.

 

[Viper Actual]

Mountaineer's Rest - Final Approach

Rolled: 8 (!!!)

If there truly were any deities worth worshipping it would soon become abundantly clear that they either held no real power or that they had simply chosen to look away from what was about to happen down below on this lonely road leading to the top of the Jigsaw Mountains;

Having already been reduced to a few meager squads by two guided airstrikes the Covenant forces re-orienting themselves were anything but ready for their final, decisive, killing blow.

Like a thunderous storm Captain Yasir, Ray and the rest of the ODSTs opened fire with everything they had.

Rifle bullets of varying calibers tore through armor and skin alike completely unopposed as the Covenant survivors were too shocked to do anything. With Ray delivering a highly effective mag-dump two of the other troopers used the window to prepare a fresh tube on their SPNKr-launcher.

The loading mechanism whirred as the tubes were attached and rotated into place.

"Clear backblast!" Yelled the launcher-wielding trooper as his battle buddy tapped him on the helmet twice to signal that he was ready to fire.

With a roar the launcher fired, sending a plume of smoke and dust in one direction and a high-explosive rocket in the other. The rocket created a loud WOOOSH as it hurled itself down towards the unsuspecting Covenant forces, creating a loud bang and a fiery explosion as it reached its target.

After the rocket impacted Yasir held up his hand, signaling a cease-fire. Just like that the fighting died down, leaving nothing but the distant echo created by the ballistic weapons of the UNSC and the faint wailing of wounded Covenant soldiers crying out for help.

As the ODSTs posted along the clifftop prepared to let loose another salvo in case any more survivors popped up Alvarez simply shook his head in response to Ray.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep yapping, old timer."

Captain Yasir on the other hand remained as serious as ever. "All elements, prepare to commence sweep. Stay sharp, people."

Alvarez slowly got up, as did Yasir and the others. Tiggs was one of the last troopers to stand up and once he did he was still aiming at the road while carefully and slowly moving out of cover. Alvarez tapped Ray on his left shoulder pad. "Let's go, cowboy."

If there were any humorous sentiment in that final statement before the descent down towards the road it was lost as the harsh reality of war settled in. No armed conflict was ever "pretty" and the war with the Covenant was no exception to this rule as mangled and torn alien bodies laid spread out on and along the remote road, surrounded by other dead or dying Covenant soldiers.

Alvarez remained silent as he put some of the wounded out of their misery, as did the other troopers. Captain Yasir stood at the center of it all and observed the entire scene. He glanced down at a dead Elite lying at his feet. Few parts of the body remained intact with the warrior having been caught in either the first or the second airstrike. Underneath his helmet Yasir frowned.

What family would wait and wait for him to return home? What was his name? What reason did he have to come here- to this mountain- just to die?

Yasir shook his head slowly. We cannot afford to humanize our enemy. They would never grant us the privilege of a second thought.

Tiggs walked up to him, looking as indifferent as the rest of the squad with the carnage being reflected on their opaque helmet visors. "No survivors left, sir." He paused. "At least none in fighting condition."

Yasir nodded before addressing the squad; "Scavenge what you can. Pistols, grenades and more. As long as it doesn't slow you down. We'll need any advantage we can get over these bastards. We're moving out in five- that ONI squad is still waiting for us."

SpazTheButcher

*
​

ONI Facility - Courtyard (w. Adjacent Buildings)

"Negative," said Grey. She pointed towards the license plate positioned on the bumper. It bore a ONI sticker next to its number. "My guess is that it belonged to George. Him or that techie Bang and Bunny reported in."

She nodded forward. "Honestly I don't think there'll be much to find. Let's circle back to the entrance." Grey glanced at King and raised an eyebrow at him. "That is unless you or Lyster wants to search it for valuables," she said with a sarcastic wink.

Inside the lobby Black received a fresh report from Karma via the encrypted communications channel and all the technological mumbo-jumbo that said channel included. Supposedly extraction was now closing in alongside reinforcements on foot. "Be advised team, we're moving out soon. Looks like scaring off that Spirit decreased the chance of our ride getting show down and as such the brave Pelican pilots of the UNSC will be here soon. Pack up your things and rendezvous at the courtyard ASAP, over."

DrabberRogue
0stinato
Worthlessplebian

*
​

Mountaineer's Rest - Warehouse

Like Owen, Tremell and Davis both looked at the man lying dead at their feet. Their focus shifted once Prieto silently covered him up with a tarp from a nearby stack of crates. Remaining silent, the boy kept staring at his father's corpse as if expecting his father pull down the tarp and jump right back up again.

Tremell grabbed the boy's right hand and gently tugged at it. "Let's go, little guy. We'll come back for him later." It was a lie and everyone in the room knew it but an empty promise was the best they could do at this point.
When aircraft sounded above Davis tensed up slightly as he too looked upwards. "Here's hoping Yasir pulled a magic trick and found us a way offworld." He looked at Tremell, Prieto and Bassett. "Time's wasting. Let's go."

Upon exiting the warehouse the squad started to move back towards their vehicles when their HUDs pinged. Friendly forces detected nearby. Less than 500 meters.

Davis' visor turned towards Owen. "Am I dreaming or did you get this too?"

Solar Daddy

 

[SpazTheButcher]

Ray looked at the destruction and grinned. Another win for the UNSC. He kicked the toe of a mostly intact Elite, which refused to flinch. Most folks he looked at watched the carnage grimly. Ray on the other hand was grinning like a crazy S.O.B. He got not only his breakfast, but he got revenge. He had lost his company twice to these bastards, and he was damn determined to make them pay for every Marine he lost with blood. He had seen the news reels too. Madrigal. Bliss and Biko. Circinius IV. Harvest.

Ray had a hometown friend attending the Corbulo Academy of Military Science when Circinius got glassed. A joker named Richard Phillips. He was bright, had a future as an officer. Kid wanted to become a politician and help people. The covvies took that away from him. They were fucking animals, they killed women and children, cadets who didn't even carry a gun, civilians. It was bullshit. That's why Ray took pride in his work. It was from here he derived his nickname and callsign, "The Butcher," and "Minuteman." Guaranteed airstrikes in one minute or less. Or the next one's free.

He hadn't bothered with their weapons, but he did grab some plasma grenades. He swapped a plasma pistol with Alvarez for his Magnum, and after that he was loaded up. He was ready to walk away, until he spotted a moving chest. It belonged to an Elite, who spoke whatever native language the damn Covenant had. Ray couldn't recognize the words, but he almost immediately knew the reahearsed beat, the general meaning, the sort of thing anyone could recognize regardless of language, or culture. It was praying. He stood over the dead beast, and unholstered his M6C with his metal left hand.

He let it sit at his side, and then raised the pistol. Under the visor, his eyes were stone cold as he stared the creature in the eyes. its neon blood spilled out from quite a deep chest wound. Whatever god it worshipped would not help it now. He decided to make this one be for Phillips. Richie would rest in peace now. As Ray recited CAMS' favorite phrase, he spoke it softly, with great care, as if saying to too loudly would destroy their memory. "Axios." With this, he let the Magnum bark, the lone shot echoing throughout the valley.

"Area secure Cap. Let's roll. I'm picking up something... Friendlies half a click out. ONI and Helljumpers. Want me to make contact?"

"Go ahead Ray."

"This is Ranger 1 to Phantom Actual, please advise we are operating in your AO. How copy, over?"

Interactions: Viper Actual DrabberRogue 0stinato Worthlessplebian

 

[DrabberRogue]

Jace took a deep breath as the unexpected air cover screamed overhead, his helmet tilting slightly upwards to watch them go by. Slowly he lowered the long, heavy barrel of his rifle into a more comfortable position, shifting posture to let his spine relax. That engagement could've gone a lot worse. The lance corporal let his gaze drop back to the courtyard below as the order came to regroup, briefly scanning over it one last time before standing to head back towards the ladder. Along the way he passed a glance at Hayworth, checking to see how the other lance corporal was handling his wound. One of two casualties, as far as he'd heard, the other being Grey.

"Hayworth, you good?" Jace asked, finally speaking up beyond just tactical comms. Though it was less a question so much as something that just felt appropriate. The guy had taken a bolt of plasma to the shoulder after all. Jace for his part intended to linger behind the rest of his fireteam until both the others were off the roof, continuing to provide overwatch just in case. In the meantime he took a moment to glance skyward again, turning his gaze past the peaks where a blinding crimson light filled the horizon. A breathtaking view, in spite of what it represented, holding the sharpshooter's attention for a good several seconds while he looked on with a grim awe.

Although appreciation for the spectacle was the last thing on Jace's mind once he looked away, turning to stare back down the road as the voice of 'Ranger 1' came over the radio. They were on the clock. If that egghead had just sat tight and waited for evac, the mission would be more or less over and done with. Just slip in, exchange some fire, have a friendly brush with death, and slip back to the Tangible in time for dinner.

It never was that easy, was it.

The shock trooper let out a sigh, dismissing that train of thought as he brought his attention back planetside. He'd already had enough pre-mission anxiety on the ride down. Now, he busied himself with sorting out his ammo, swapping the empty magazine of his sniper with fresh one. The last bullet from the previous mag was still in the chamber, but Jace wanted to make sure he had next four already lined up. Once the other two made it down to the courtyard, he would follow, stowing his rifle on his back for the climb down. Hopefully quickly enough that Black wouldn't get impatient with him.

Viper Actual

 

[Worthlessplebian]

King sighed as he listened to Grey. While he did suggest searching the transport, he wasn't exactly thrilled with it, plus their limited timeframe also meant little room for lollygagging. "Negative, we'll leave it for the after crew." King flicked the gear stick from neutral to one and drove off, continuing the encircling. It is rare for an ONI agent to lack critical information, rarer still for someone like Joseph. This top-secret project grew all the more fascinating to him. Yes, he knew that it was probably Sector Three's usual tomfoolery, but with the way, everyone and their grandmother is acting it might as well be the key that could end this war. Lord knows Agent Black won't tell him, and Agent Grey will also be unwilling to divulge that information.

Just as King's train of thought was coming to bear, the crackling sound of the radio broke the unwitting silence. 'Ranger 1' announced his presence in their AO-area of operations. Well, it might have been too little too late, where was he when the squad had to take on a spirit? King jested, he's been on enough theatres to know that you're always up shit creek without a paddle. He would like to answer, but he decided to leave that to Black. Speaking of Black, he had relayed his own orders just moments prior. Switching to squad communications. "Roger that, Black. Coming up on the courtyard now, over." And they were, as King swung around the building ending up just shy of the main building doors. "Thank you for driving, Tax-K-ing." A shot of brevity to Lyster and Grey.

 

[Solar Daddy]

When Davis gave the order to get moving, Owen was first to flick his visor opaque and ready his weapon. Although he would protect the boy to his dying breath, Owen was looking for a fight. Every Covenant force he killed was one less plasma rifle aimed at a civilian, or one of his brothers. All this time foraging and protecting was important; it just wasn't the job Bassett wanted. He wanted to drop in on a chaotic battlefield, pod bursting open and securing him a kill before he even raised his gun. Mowing down aliens across Verent, and beyond its atmosphere up in orbit. He'd arrived on a training expedition, and the Covenant sought him out here. Bassett wanted to bring the pain down on the forces that thought Verent was going to be a worthwhile target. Instead, he was escorting a child in the dark brush of the Jigsaw Mountains. He fired at a few Covvie forces, but nothing quite like he wanted. Not high-enough octane for him. Regardless, the distant explosions and Swords passing by gave him hope a battle was to be found somewhere close. When Davis asked about the friendly tags, Bassett spoke up. "Seems like we're in for a reunion, Sir." Bassett and his group loaded up what they could into the Warthog and Mongoose, including giving the young kid a ride in the passenger seat before taking off towards the friendly tags, hoping to crest the hill and spot those who the designations belonged to. The gunfire had stopped a few moments ago, so there was either a lull in the firefight, or it was already over. Bassett prayed some poor grunt was still running around like a headless chicken for him to end.

When Owen spotted the friendly forces standing among the columns of smoke and dead bodies, he couldn't help but feel a little let down. Bassett at least wished he got to watch the strike for himself, rather than just feeling the rumble of the ground from a distance. Regardless of Owen's fun, it felt nice to be back in the fold with Yasir and his men. Covenant forces seemed to be getting rampant in the area, so more UNSC forces to counter the opposition was welcome. Owen admired the work of the Swords for a few moments before turning back to his smaller group, giving them a nod. He then dismounted the Mongoose began approaching the larger UNSC force, spotting the Captain among his subordinates and walking up with Davis, Prieto, Tremell and the boy right behind. "Captain Yasir Sir, Lance Corporal Bassett with the foraging party; heard all the fun going on down here and had to join in." Owen reintroduced himself to the Captain with a nod, waiting for Davis to arrive and brief Yasir on the accomplishments of their outing.

 

[Viper Actual]

Mountaineer's Rest - Final Approach

The radio crackled to life. "Ranger 1 this is Phantom Actual," replied a dark and crispy voice over the comms. "We read you loud and clear. Please proceed to the compound outside of town- we're expecting you, over."

Yasir, who was standing next to Ray, had overheard the exchange and nodded. "Let them know we're coming."

Just then several friendly IFF tags showed up followed by the sound of a Warthog and much smaller vehicle, most likely a Mongoose or a Jackrabbit. When Sergeant Davis and his team approached the QRF Yasir visibly relaxed.

"Captain Yasir Sir, Lance Corporal Bassett with the foraging party; heard all the fun going on down here and had to join in."

"Damn good to see you, son." Replied Yasir. He nodded towards Davis. "You too, Sergeant. That goes for the rest of you as well. Casualties?"

Davis nodded. "Affirmative. One, civilian." He nodded towards the boy. "His father engaged the Covenant head-on, sir." Yasir nodded and frowned. He studied the boy from behind the comfort of his visor.

"I'm sorry for your loss." Goddamnit.

Yasir held up two fingers and made a lasso motion, signaling for the QRF to regroup. "Let's go. ONI's waiting."

*
​

ONI Facility - Courtyard (w. Adjacent Buildings)

Hayworth grimaced. It was unclear if it was due to the plasma that had scorched him up or if it was because of the sight of the ladder leading all the way down. "I'm fine, don't worry."
The corporal shrugged. "Let's just head down- I've had enough of this roof as is."

By now the truck had returned to the courtyard and Grey shot King a semi-amused glance before exiting. One by one the members of the SRG team regrouped out on the courtyard and as Black left the office complex he appeared to be talking with someone over the radio...

* * *
​

Jigsaw Mountains

Once it was clear that there were no more imminent Covenant threats it didn't take long until the Jigsaw Mountains and its surrounding areas returned to the relative calm synonymous with a lonely mountain region. The wind carried with it the many sounds of war as the battle for Verent City continued far away in the horizon, though unlike earlier there were no more humming from Covenant anti-gravity drives.

In a way the battle for Verent City was so distant that it didn't feel real. Yet the threat posed by the invading forces were very real indeed and for the people currently in or around Mountaineer's Rest- be they ONI or UNSC- you would only need a quick glance around ones surroundings to re-affirm such thoughts.

Eventually the ONI team had regrouped at their vehicles, leaving the seized truck near the compound entrance with its machine gun pointing at the perimeter. A few minutes later the first ODSTs showed up at the gate, followed by the rest of the QRF that poured in.

Lastly came the members of Yasir's QRF that had stayed behind to guard their vehicles and by then there were plenty of troopers watching the perimeter that surrounded the compound.

A few minutes after Black and Yasir had briefed each other on their respective situations with help from Grey and Davis the familiar sound of a Pelican dropship drew near, followed closely by several more.

Hovering at a comfortable distance above the town were the SRG team's prototype D77-TC/c Pelicans as well as another three standard D77-TCs sporting Navy-grey paintjobs. Things in Verent City were deteriorating fast according the AIs Karma and Gladius of the Tangible Excuse and Empire, respectively.

Because of this key factor word came from above to regroup below the mountain where everyone assembled could figure out the next step of the plan.

*​

Upon vacating the ONI compound and Mountaineer's Rest the safety measures were triggered, detonating several low-yield charges inside the compound to prevent enemy forces from accessing both equipment and data.

The mountain roared and thundered as a much larger secondary explosion collapsed a large portion of it, pulling stone, gravel and dirt down into a gaping pit that had not existed mere moments before.

Langdon- the ONI tech rescued by Bang and Bunny- sighed loudly as he looked out of the Pelican's rear hatch. Somewhere below all that rubble laid the remains of the offsite data storage that had been linked to the compound.

Black watched Langdon's expression harden and then soften from his seat on the opposite side of the troop bay. It's a real shame about all that data. Still, beats letting the enemy have it.

Whatever problems Langdon might have with ONI turning his place of work into a pit of condensed rock were abysmal in comparison to the situation Black and his team face. Namely, locating the weapon and the man whom had stolen it.

Thirty minutes later...

Surveyor Plains - Temporary UNSC-ONI Rendezvous

​

"All patched in," said the ODST, a low-ranking, no-name trooper that belonged to Captain Yasir's company. He nodded towards the holographic display device and stepped back.

Surrounded by Pelicans of different models and a wide assortment of wheeled UNSC vehicles all positioned in a circle Black's SRG team had- alongside Captain Yasir's QRF, reinforcements from the UNSC Empire and some local militia soldiers- regrouped and gathered up their pool of available resources on a relatively safe side of the mountain. From their current position Verent City was barely visible with the exception being some of the taller skyscrapers as well as the spaceport's space elevator.

With both hands on his hips Black watched the football-sized holographic display device flicker to life as the liquid-cooled hydrogen engine it had been hot-wired to came to life with an uneven growl. The Warthog remained in place though and all eyes were on the display as no less than three AI avatars presented themselves. Representing the Tangible Excuse was Karma- whom appeared with her arms crossed and with a grim expression adorning her pixel-perfect face.

She was joined by Gladius, her Empire counterpart, whom looked equally grim while balancing the tip of his sword on a non-existent surface. Lastly was Captain Yasir's battalion AI Henry who was represented by a featureless orb slowly bobbing up and down.

Aside from Black, Grey and the rest of their team were Yasir, Ray, Bassett, Davis and many more ODSTs of varying ranks. Most of them looked at ease but Black couldn't help but notice Davis' blood-stained armor and Bassett's light plasma scoring. In a way they fit in well standing next to Black's equally battered team. Meanwhile the reinforcements from the Empire- a platoon's worth of veteran ODSTs- had a different kind of wear and tear on them.

Most of the troopers had removed their helmets and their faces all shared the traits and signs so common with soldiers that survived well past their expected number of missions and years of service. Weary eyes, old scars, tattoos and dog-tags in memory of past comrades all hinted what these men and women had gone through. Further reinforcing this image was their commanding officer- Major Mokoena- who observed Black and Yasir with seemingly empty eyes.

If Black had to hazard a guess he'd say that Mokoena was around his late thirties but the man could very well have been in his early fifties. Scar upon scar added a light contract to Mokoena's dark skin, making them stick out abundantly clear. His features reminded Black of the UNSC propaganda posters as the Major had a strong and well-defined jawline, deep eyes and wide nose that looked like it had been broken once or twice.

Mokoena's eyes met Black's and for a moment the ONI agent felt as if years of training and experience went right out the window upon being watched by the dark, near-black, eyes of the ODST CO in front of him. Thankfully Karma cleared her throat, catching the immediate attention of everyone.

A semi-detailed map of Verent City was projected in sky blue with some parts of it being either grayed out or having red and green tags above in the shape of triangles to pinpoint hostile and friendly positions. "As you can see," began Karma. "Most of downtown Verent City is still under UNSC control. While the Covenant forces have indeed pushed through and secured the outlying industrial- and residential-zones our current intelligence suggests that they have had little to no interest in fortifying those areas."

The holographic display panned over the city outskirts which showed few UNSC and Covenant positions with plenty of space far in-between with the rest being either neutral or contested. As the display zoomed out it was clear that the UNSC forces were maintaining a fairly "straight" perimeter that cut through the entire city and enveloped their side of it all, creating a sort of semi-circle shape in green focused entirely around the spaceport and its nearby tether.

Meanwhile the Covenant positions were spread out thinly in comparison with the majority of their forces having been clumped together to form an aggressive V-shaped wedge being driven towards the city center. A few strong-points and smaller clusters of military forces remained independent from the main forces- most likely being scouts or support units.

One of the green markers was enlarged and highlighted. As the icon was enlarged the flaming skull of the ODSTs appeared alongside it followed by tiny text that identified the unit as 'UNSC Empire - 211th STB, 1st Tactical Company (ODST)'.

"As you can see the Empire has already deployed forces in advance to strengthen their own operation with more units- including armored support- being on their way as we speak," said Karma.

Black raised his chin slightly. "Karma, any intel on where our target might be? Where's the location of the local ONI offices?"

"Here," replied the AI, highlighting a location not far from the friendly unit marker previously highlighted.

"And where is our asset?" Asked Mokoena.

Another marker appeared in close proximity to the designated building. "There," said Gladius. "At least according to the latest intelligence."

Several troopers exchanged glances. Black glanced at Yasir who made a barely visible nod. Mokoena tilted his head slightly, his eyes danced between the two different markers. Finally, he looked up at Black. "Agent, I suggest we pool our resources together. If we work fast we might be able to reach both of our targets without straying too far into Covenant territory."

Black nodded. "I agree, Major." He turned towards Karma. "What's the latest intel on the ground?"

"Members of Mokoena's 1st Tactical Company are holding at Verent City's School of Applied Technical Sciences and are currently fending off Covenant recon elements probing UNSC defenses. Our closest LZ would be at Innovation Plaza which also happens to be a command posts established by a joint Marine-Verent Militia force."

As Karma spoke the mentioned locations were highlighted and enhanced. "From Innovation Plaza it would take roughly ten to fifteen minutes on foot to reach the ODST team and from there- assuming you face light resistance- another twenty or thirty minutes to advance through Initiative Street which would take you directly to the Discovery Complex skyscraper."

Grey cleared her throat. "We won't have a lot of time to locate Dr. Kinsley."

Black nodded. "We'll split up. Divert half our team to the spaceport in the event that he shows up there instead. That way we can cover more ground."

Captain Yasir frowned. "You're going up against some pretty bad odds. We don't know how long the Covenant will pull their punches." He nodded towards Black. "Let me send some of my men with you. I should be able to spare a few- assuming they volunteer."

"I'll take any that you can spare," replied Black, now looking past Yasir.

Almost immediately Sgt. Davis stepped forward. "I'll go." He grinned. "This old man still has some fightin' left in him."

"We'll go as well," said Tremell. He stepped forward and intentionally bumped into Owen, forcing him forward.

Yasir observed the men with a blank expression and nodded. He then looked past them and pointed at two troopers near the back- late arrivals that had shown up before the start of the briefing- and nodded. "Dax and Sticks. You've both been itching for some payback- this is your moment."

Finally, Yasir pointed towards a trooper standing next to him. "Take my JTAC-guy as well. You'll need that air support downtown more than I'll need it watching over fleeing civilians." Yasir tapped Ray on his shoulder-pad. "You know what to do, Person."

Black nodded once more. "You're all welcome to join us- any help would be appreciate and I'd rather not divert troopers from the Empire unless I'd absolutely have to." Mokoena nodded approvingly in the back.

"It's settled then." Black gestured towards the map. "We'll mount up. One half of my SRG team will divert for the spaceport. Everyone else on the mission will make for Innovation Plaza. From there we'll rendezvous with Mokoena's armored support and advance towards the recon team followed by moving up on the target area. Hopefully we'll find our egghead and you'll find your, well, whatever it is you're looking for."

Yasir nodded. "I'll pack up here. Make sure that the rest of my troops and the few militia guys still breathing find every last straggler before we head away from the city. With any luck we can make the evac relatively fast."

Once it was clear that the plan was indeed in motion the AIs all excused themselves and vanished one by one. Mokoena and some of his more senior ODSTs remained at the map to take notes whereas Black turned towards his team. "Bang, Bunny, Doc and Uzi. I want all of you heading towards the spaceport. Comb every terminal, refugee tent and shuttle if you have to but we cannot let Kinsley vanish out of thin air. Take Langdon with you as well."

"The rest of you are with me. Grey and Hayworth go and have your injuries checked before we deploy." Black then turned towards two troopers standing next to Hayworth. They were the same two ODSTs that had accompanied the team on the way down that had remained on the Pelicans post-landing. "Wendell and Johansen. I want both of you to tag along for this one as well. Yasir's men or not we'll need every barrel we can get."

Both troopers nodded with Wendell fist-bumping Hayworth as he passed them by.

Nearby Yasir was addressing his own away-team; "I want you all back in one-piece. If we don't link up before the evac I'll see you all back on Reach." He looked at Davis. "Keep them alive, Sergeant. Stay sharp out there." Davis nodded. "I'll do my best, sir. See you on Reach."

With that said Yasir departed, leaving Davis and the 7th STB away-team to chat among themselves and with the ONI team they had just been assigned to. Not long after that it was time to go and the team- now fourteen strong- made their way towards one of the ONI Pelicans.

*
​

Even with its spacious troop compartment the Pelican did end up feeling severely cramped with fourteen soldiers and ONI agents seated within. Having only ten seats in the back meant that four soldiers had to remain standing- Black and Davis were two of them with both standing in front of the rear hatch as it closed up. Outside the other ODSTs were scrambling to their transports while the four-man spaceport team casually strolled onto the second ONI Pelican.

Just as the hatch was about to close Captain Yasir became visible for a mere second. The officer saluted his men onboard with his visor masking the expression underneath.

"Alright," said Black. "Let's get everyone up to speed." He eyeballed Grey briefly who looked at him with a rather neutral expression. "I won't bother quoting the exact laws and why it's imperative that this information doesn't get leaked because quite frankly we all know what's at stake with this war."

"Considering the mission parameters I thought it fair that I'd tell you enough for you to know what we're going after; Developed some unknown time ago, the weapon stolen by Dr. Bernard Kinsley- one of ONI's top researchers- is little more than an incredibly powerful transmitter. This device- if used correctly- is known as Project Deliverance. I don't know the exact specifications for it, nor its functions, but from what I was briefed on it is supposedly capable of bringing down an entire Covenant battlegroup with ease."

Black paused, allowing that final part to sink in. "From what I have pieced together myself it is completely electronic though its exact range and power consumption remains a mystery to me."

"Right now I have no idea what Kinsley wants with it. He might be moving to test it himself or he could have some other motive for stealing it. Regardless our top priority is to recover that weapon with Kinsley being a secondary objective."

"If he cannot be secured then you are all cleared to terminate him to prevent Kinsley from falling into enemy hands. The Covenant rarely take prisoners but in the event that they realize his potential as a source of military intelligence his capture could have a catastrophic effect on our entire war-effort. Understood?"

0stinato
Darth
DrabberRogue
NamelessTrax
SpazTheButcher
Solar Daddy
Worthlessplebian

* * *
​

Innovation Plaza - Marine CP

Heavy footsteps sounded outside the prefabricated military command structure- shaped like a large 'T'- as a platoon of marines rushed past its open door. Inside the structure were at least a dozen marines either seated in front of terminals or standing in front of large monitors or the tactical display that dominated the room as its centerpiece. Any gunfire or screams sounding from outside were drowned out by the constant static of military communications, portable power generators working well beyond their tested limit and muffled chatter between soldiers.

Lt. Dawson- a young officer by military standard- wrinkled his face as the tactical display updated to show another checkpoint falling back after being subjected to intense long-range plasma fire. He pointed at its flickering icon. "Reinforce that squad. We cannot let the Covenant create a gap."

One of his aides- an equally young freckle-faced corporal- nodded before stepping off to locate someone managing company communications. Dawson shook his head and leaned over the display. He sighed and looked up at Sam. "So," he said, eyebrow raised. "I'm still waiting for those other troops you spoke of earlier. Armored vehicles and another platoon's worth of ODSTs would have been great right about now."

He shrugged. "Hell, they would have been great thirty minutes ago."

Dawson pointed to another icon- marking the ODST advance-team that had arrived at the same time as Sam. "At least your scouts are holding their own out there, though I'd expect nothing else."

Naril

 

[SpazTheButcher]

Ray looked to the Captain, and looked over the guys before departing. Ray knew the Cap was doing it to help the ONI guys, yeah, but it was also a little bit for him. The Captain knew the Ray had an urge, the kind that couldn't be satisfied on perimeter duty. As Captain Willard once said...

"Saigon, shit. I'm still only in Saigon. Every time I think I'm going to wake up back in the jungle. When I was home after my first tour, it was worse. I'd wake up and there'd be nothing... I hardly said a word to my wife until I said yes to a divorce. When I was here I wanted to be there. When I was there, all I could think of was getting back into the jungle."
​

This was his jungle. Killing covvies was something he could never stop thinking about. Making them pay for every inch in blood. But as he passed his squad, his mind returned to its joking self. He got a silent nod from Tiggs that said "Take care of yourself," and Alvarez gave him a nod as well. But Ray wasn't going to let him off that easy, and softly slammed his fist over his helmet.

"Take care of yourself kid," Ray said, grinning as he boarded the Pelican. His eyes followed Yasir as his fate and the ramp were sealed.

. . .

​

Ray did a once over of his gear while Black was talking. He took extra time on the Magnum, remembering that Alvarez placed it in his care. He checked everything and listened for the last part of the briefing...

"If he cannot be secured then you are all cleared to terminate him to prevent Kinsley from falling into enemy hands. The Covenant rarely take prisoners but in the event that they realize his potential as a source of military intelligence his capture could have a catastrophic effect on our entire war-effort. Understood?"

He ran over the details in his head. Primary objective was the weapon. Secondary was the acquisition of a non-compliant actor. AKA a kidnapping. Wasn't the worse that could happen. He could be in the Free Irish Systems. His brain then shifted into joke mode.

"So, we're after a superweapon that can possibly end the war, in the middle of what looks like a crusade, with little to no support. And all we have are a handful of helljumpers and some air support." He falsely contemplated this for a minute before loading his BR 55 and racking a round. "Well, battles have been won with less." Even under his helmet the others could feel his grin as he cocked his head, "Just another shitshow with ONI."

 

[NamelessTrax]

Feeling awkward by the comment from Ray, not that it wasn’t true, but mostly from a professional perspective. Dax knew from the rumor’s that ONI had its flaws like any other organization, Marines and ODST’s just liked the thought of a “Perfectionist” being flawed. The Breifing was interesting, it was way outside his normal. Coming from average missions to a joint task with ONI operations, Dax was beginning to wonder if he’d been promoted in more than just rank.

Attempting to ignore the part about terminating Kinsley if needed, Dax focused on preparing his supplies. Going over his checklist, even checking the personal bag he brought, mostly stuff the usual field dress didn’t have. On his right thigh was his Magnum, something he added on since a previous encounter with an Elite. His BR placed in the weapon slot next to his seat. Glancing around, Dax realized he knew none of his Squad-mates, this was a new unit for him after all. They barely had time to converse with all the briefings they took part in before departure. As their Medic, He felt a sense earning their trust, considering it was his job to keep them alive.