• This section is for roleplays only.
    ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.

    Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.

Futuristic Halo, Project Ares soft reboot (An 18+ roleplay set in the Halo universe.)

Foster

Inheritor
Concorde was, depending on who you asked, either the safest or most dangerous place in occupied space. For those sheltering from the long arm of UNSC law it was an oasis at which they may thrive, surrounded by smugglers, bounty hunters and people who wanted to make a relatively honest living outside of Earth’s colonies. Concorde was independently thriving since the end of the Covenant war and its population would fight tooth and claw to keep it that way. It had established itself a free colony the moment the war had come to and end, its insurrectionist roots having held on for the duration of the fighting. So, landing on the ocean planet baring the UNSC’s, or good forbid ONI’s, insignia was a quick and easy way to have a target painted on your back. Of course, that meant that for a Spartan to set foot on Concorde was just asking for trouble…

Dean Z-013 shuffled slightly on his perch high above Concorde’s busy market district, trying to dispel some of the stiffness that had settled into his joints after hours atop this rain-soaked ledge. The towering warehouse building provided the perfect vantage point for him to observe the speck sized people going about their lives beneath him, all while keeping him concealed from any prying eyes. If by some miracle he was spotted, the M99 Stanchion cradled in his arms and his intimidating MJONIR armour would have him appear like the most well-armed gargoyle in existence, the thought causing the corners of his mouth to curl into a wry smile as it crossed his mind.

The time displayed by Dean’s HUD showed it to be 21:35 by Concorde’s 26 hour clock, the last of the planet’s daylight having vanished over 2 hours ago. Now Concorde was awash with the lights provided by its inhabitants, those illuminating stalls, roads or signs. They came in all colours and intensities, a beautiful urban painting on the dark parchment of night. Although Dean took the time to admire the view he wasn’t fooled. Concorde was a pirate colony though and through. It had more than its fair share of honest workers holding up the infrastructure but the reason this place had made a name for itself was its black market, not its sizeable seafood industry. The foundations on which the city had been built upon consisted of a single massive platform jutting out of the endless sea that engulfed the planet, a truly fitting place for pirates to call their home. And with Concorde’s views about the UNSC on full display it had attracted the attention of others who would rather keep out of the grasp of Earth. The Jackals had been the first to arrive. Natural born miscreants, they were welcomed with open arms by the criminals that had established themselves here. Other species soon followed, Grunts, Brutes, even dishonoured Elites. It had blossomed into a multicultural metropolis, with some covenant style structures even cropping up here and there. If you weren’t with the imperial UNSC you were safe on Concorde, or so these people liked to think.

Dean shouldered his rifle and peered through the scope as he swept it across the market, the streets jumping forward in 10x magnification as he tried to pinpoint his target amongst the sea of faces. Even this late the market was packed to the brim with those haggling at stalls, enduring the endless drizzle from the sky to grab the best deals. A middle-aged man in a slightly worn suit caught Dean’s eye, his thinning hair pressed flat against his head by the rain. Sumeet Khan. The file Dean had been handed by ONI revealed Khan to be a small-time salvager who had recently begun making waves in the criminal underworld. For such a small fish to suddenly be getting so much attention he must have stumbled upon something big. Big enough that there was buzz across the solar system about it. And considering how sloppy he’d been in letting news spread to ONI this quickly he was definitely eager to get it off his hands. That likely meant it was dangerous, a hot product he wasn’t used to dealing in. And when words like ‘relic’ and ‘Forerunner’ had begun cropping up in intercepted transmissions it hadn’t been long before Fireteam Mercury had been called in.

Flanking the man was some obvious hired muscle, a pair of surly looking mercenary types that were helping Khan cut a swathe through the crowds. “I’ve got eyes on the target.” Dean spoke into team COM, his sights never leaving Khan. “Safaa’, Reb, he’s heading towards the docks via the fish market, get on his tail.”

Reb, and their tag along Spartan 4 Safaa’, had been milling around in the market for a while now waiting for Dean’s signal. Spartan Reb Z-004 was one of Fireteam Mercury’s core members and had been since it was established, Dean had no doubt she’d accomplish her mission down there. Safaa’ was a different matter. Mercury had worked along Spartan 4’s before of course, they made up the bulk of the Spartan branch these days, but this was the first time one had been added to Dean’s own fireteam roster. It wasn’t that he doubted her skill or commitment to the mission, but she was an unknown element thrown into the mix of a well -oiled machine. He’d be keeping a close eye on her performance as the situation developed.

The entire reason she’d even been brought on, at least as far as Dean was aware, was that they needed somebody to pass as a civilian down on the ground. Without her MJONIR armour Safaa’ could just about get away with that. Had any of the Spartan 0s tried that stunt they’d be spotted immediately, their superhuman frames making it near impossible for them to blend into a crowd. For all their enhancements and skills there was little any 7ft spartan could do to look like normal person.

The final members of Fireteam Mercury, Charlotte and Paige, were already at the docks, holed up in the van they’d be using to extract Khan out of the market district. Once they had him they’d book it to the courier ship waiting nearby, with a pilot already there to keep the engine hot. Their intel placed Khan’s meeting tonight at the docks so the plan was for these two to intercept him before he could make it there. The Jackal pirates Khan was meant to be meeting would be very upset when their prize never showed up, but by that point Mercury would be off-world and out of their claws. Provided everything went as planned.
 


Reb perked up as Dean spoke her name. Pushing a rusty and worn trolley ahead of her filled with scavenged parts from a mothballed Spirit or Phantom (she wasn't sure seeing as everything was purple) the usually tall Spartan maintained a hunched stance and a fake limp as she traversed through the marketplace. To mask her bulky armor she'd been covered in three layers of woven cloaks with the uppermost one including a hood. Her feet had been disguised to look like vintage work-boots resembling a popular but very generic make used aboard military and civilian orbital stations whereas her visor had been covered in dirt and grime to avoid any accidental reflections.

All in all she looked like any other homeless scavenger on Concorde, getting by through the simple trade of selling used parts. Humans would pity her and any aliens in close proximity would think her dirty and disease-ridden. Several patrols from the various street gangs, pirate bands and militias had already dodged Reb for that specific reason with several visibly frowning upon seeing her and her creaking trolley.

"Zed zero-zero-four is oscar mike, over." Replied Rebeckah silently for nobody to hear but Dean and Safaa. By now she could see their target as well as Safaa as the latter began a much tighter tail than Reb could afford. Even with her disguise it was risky to get too close, not to mention that relying almost entirely on her motion tracker because of her hunched stance was a real pain in the ass.

Then again, Reb would most likely be the last person on the team to complain about anything. Whatever annoyance she felt right now was temporary. Besides, walking around hidden in plain sight offered a bit of fun too. It was as if she was a child playing hide and seek. Or rather what she thought a child doing that might feel like.

As far as threats go Concorde was unique because it was practically the Wild West in the sense that everyone carried something. Luckily for Reb (and by extent, Safaa) she had several gadgets with her to help level the playing field. Spartan reinforcements aside the ground team's immediate help would be Dean sitting behind a Stanchion-rifle which was a threat worthy of its own league.
Secondly Reb and her experimental Spider armor came with an array of E-war tools that'd make a firefight living hell for any opponents relying on HUD's and technical sensor equipment. IFF system? Nah-uh, your friends will be highlighted red. Motion tracker? Good luck singling out a target among a hundred red dots. Team communications? Now playing the UNSC anthem on maximum volume.

If all of that wouldn't be enough to sell the idea of running back home to mommy then Reb with a silenced MA5K and a M6C/SOCOM certainly would- assuming that Safaa wouldn't already be on them, looking like one of their own but with the strength on-par with a Sangheili warrior.

Behind her visor a slight smirk appeared over Reb's lips. It faded as the Spartan refocused. She offered herself a quick peek at Safaa. "Bastet. Status?"
 
As a gentle rain fell, the inhabitants of Concorde had gone about their business, hours ago, the light of the nearby star had faded, slipping away past the horizon, out of sight for all in the area. The market was still busy, as vendors pitched and sold their wares, some pitched simple household items and trinkets, others, however, sold dubious goods. Stolen UNSC weapons and equipment, old covenant weaponry, you name it, it was likely in the backroom of someone's shop. Despite the pitches and sales, a raven-haired woman stood by one of the booths, brushing her dampened hair from her face as she appeared to look at an item on a table, her eyes masked by the dark lenses, as closely as she seemed to look, her eyes were elsewhere.

The target she was tailing was no more than ten feet away, and Safaa' knew it. Straightening her posture, she adjusted the black leather jacket that wrapped around her chest, as a Spartan IV, she was the best for tailing normal targets without her armour, as, she blended in just fine compared to those in her squadron. Second to be adjusted, was the M7s she carried along her left hip, it wasn't uncommon for someone in this place to be carrying in some manner, though her second best option was the stun baton which rest in an inside pocket of her jacket, for when she needed less lethal options to deal with things, of course, hidden on her also was her combat knife, in case she needs to get stabby. Soon enough, Safaa' kept pace with the man, Sumeet Khan, a target ONI wanted bad, and who best than a bunch of Spartans to deliver?

Keeping her pace even with his, Safaa' could hear Dean through her earpiece, moving towards the Fish Market, a small smile curled from her lips, as a response came from the smaller Spartan, "Oh, wonderful. I planned to get something for Hapi. Thanks for telling me of the sale, I'll head there now." A mention of a false sale in the fish market, while it would be useless chatter to her team, it would serve it's purpose as a deception, Safaa' had a feeling that Khan was aware of her tailing him, and wanted to be sure he had a harder time sniffing her out. Then Rebeckah came over the radio, asking her status, which got a quieter response, this time, in her native tongue of Arabic, "Heading southeast towards the docks, I'm five meters behind." Keeping her eyes up to her target, watching like a lioness on the hunt.
 
The pitter-patter of rain was like soothing white noise inside a metal vehicle that was parked in a dark, make-shift alley along the docks between a pile of junk parts and a stack of rusty storage containers. The water washed and poured over the windshield in waves, the inside lightly fogging up from the breath of an un-helmeted, impatient she-Spartan. Paige shook her short black hair as she set the helmet in her lap. "This is taking forever..." she mumbled, a light, shadow of a French accent that lingered since childhood could be heard. She couldn't keep her helmet off for long, she knew, but the tight space of the van being taken up by two large Spartans was driving her to feel cramped and even more impatient that she naturally was. With a few twists and cracks of the neck, and a couple controlled, deep breaths she was ready to be resealed into her armor. The outside of the van fit the rickety, shanty look of Concorde, with the exception of the UNSC's most lethal weapons fully armored and ready for action, packed inside. Paige picked up her helmet with both hands and placed it back over her head, the visor flickering it's HUD back on.

"....south east towards the docks, I'm five meters behind."

With the comms reconnecting, Paige managed to pick up the end of the conversation. She sat up in her seat, raising her left arm to look at her TAC-pad and see exactly where Safaa' was once she entered a certain radius. The TAC-pad provided every bit of intelligence a recon specialist would find useful and was even more valuable to a tech-fiend like Paige. It not only helped with tactics but served as a data pad for splicing, hacking, overriding, etc., everything Paige could dream of getting her hands on in the digital world. The real-time map showed everything around them, the docks, the cargo containers, and other objects in the area. Safaa' popped up as a blinking, white blip once Paige zoomed out to increase the map's tracking proximity. Paige looked up to Charlotte, the other Spartan on her team doomed to suffer the same fate, that is, being stuffed in the same metallic box, "They're close," she stated, "Finally." She readied the van to start, and when the engine turned over with a fierce rumble (muted by the rain) she looked to Charlotte again, "I'll keep the car hot, are you ready?" She faced the front windshield, switching on the wipers, "Its a good thing, I like going fast..."
 
Last edited:
Charlotte had to crouch to avoid hitting her head on the roof of the van, a silenced M6C/SOCOM in her hands as she waited for further orders on extraction from Dean. Meanwhile, her partner on this current endeavor, Paige, was holed up alongside her, equally cramped.

"Eager to show off for the new girl?" Charlotte laughed, responding to Paige's comment about how long it was taking.

On Rapture, Charlotte remembered Paige as the one that was always trying to get first. Beat the score, or get beaten down trying. Charlotte held no such ambition. For her, the price to get a ticket was worth the access to weapons and all kinds of next-gen tech that would ensure an efficient, yet interesting result on her enemies.

But for this mission, she was stuck with some basic silenced weapons and a frag grenade that she'd been told repeatedly to only use as a last resort. Now, in her defense, Charlotte had about a dozen different ideas that a frag grenade could be used for but she wasn't saying it here or today.

Reb was currently doing undercover work while Safaa, the newest member of their team and a Spartan IV, was tailing their target. Still, this planet was certainly interesting. One minute we're enemies now we're partners in crimes. Humanity and jackals.

Unlike Paige, Charlotte had kept her helmet on, checking the silencer. It was a wonder why she couldn't just rig up a few explosives, but orders were orders after all. "Close huh? Bet you're ready to drift right in the nick of time and get some glory."

She chuckled under her helmet. "Locked and loaded."
 
From his lofty vantage point Dean was able to spot Safaa’ filtering her way casually though the crowd towards Khan, slipping through the throngs of people as if they were hardly there at all. He could also make out Reb a little further back, keeping a safe distance to avoid blowing their cover. It would only take one curious Unggoy to take a peak under that rag she was wearing and cause a panic, then this entire marketplace would erupt, Dean was sure of that. But it was a possibility they were all prepared for of course, in a mess like that snatching Khan would be difficult but not impossible. Spartans don’t believe in impossible.

A large bridge stood over the route Khan was taking, a long line of vehicles crawling over it as they traversed the complex layout of the city. The chatter of Dean’s team faded away as a buzz of apprehension began to fill his head. Once Khan and his goons slipped under the bridge they’d be concealed for a good 10-15 seconds, even Spartan optics couldn’t see through several feet of concrete and reinforced metal. Even with Safaa’ and Reb down on the ground Dean couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was wrong, that this mission was about to evolve.

That was when he spotted it, a large open back truck was barreling down the street beside Khan’s, parting the sea of people effortlessly as they scrambled to get out of it’s path. It skidded to a halt right inside the archway of the bridge, blocking off Khan from the Spartans on the ground. The driver was a rather shifty looking Unggoy, his stubby legs probably struggling to reach the pedals on that human built vehicle. Several people were crowding the squat alien, shouting obscenities as he apparently tried and failed to get the truck moving again. Dean wasn’t watching that however, instead he was looking to the other side of the bridge, the side that by all rights Khan should have emerged from by now. Dean muttered a curse under his breath.

“Forget your manners Safaa’, I need eyes in that tunnel.” Instructed Dean as he swept his sights over the area, searching for possible alternate exits. Sadly the Spartan 4 would find the tunnel empty, with only a few blood splatters on the concrete to prove that anybody had even been in there. Dean knew this because he’d found their target, now being escorted by beasts that put his previous bodyguards to shame. Jiralhane, or as they were more appropriately named, Brutes. There was a small pack of them emerging from a manhole one street over, and once a few of them were on the surface Khan was passed up out of the hole, one arm hanging limply by his side. So ONI hadn’t been the only group looking to steal the man away for themselves. The Brutes passed Khan along like he was a toy, their immense strength on full display. All of them were armed to the teeth with a variety of ex-Covenant toys, everything from spikers to the odd brute shot. Those Dean recognized, what he didn’t, was the faction these hairy kidnappers belonged to. They wore ornate battle armour, not dissimilar to what they had worn in the Covenant but it had clearly been modified to be closer to what Elites had worn. All of their gear was painted white and gold, clashing with their dirty coloured fur.

“Somebody’s beat us to it. I can see a group of Brutes coming out of a manhole one street over from you, heavily armoured and sporting colours I don’t recognize.” Dean growled into his helmet mic, frustrated that his gut feeling had been right. “Forget the grab and bag, screw your helmets on tight Spartans because this is now a rescue op.”

Spartan Z-013 didn’t have to know what faction these alien apes belonged to, he just knew that ONI would give him hell if Khan left this planet with them. Best case scenario, they recovered Khan before the Brutes could get him off world. If that didn’t seem likely then Dean would just have to make the call and put a shot in the man, In dire situations ONI operated on a “If we can’t have it, no one can” basis.

“Reb, you and Ava have a chat with Dockmaster, dig up anything you can on Covenant ships here on Concorde.” Dockmaster was Concorde’s smart A.I, and at 12 years old he was ancient by the standards of his kind. He was certainly rampant but he still got the job done and served the people of this pirate city well. No way he would willingly give up information to a UNSC A.I but Dean wasn’t expecting Ava to ask, she should be able to get past the defences of that aging machine even while Reb was making a break for Khan. “Van team, I’m painting a waypoint over Khan for you, move to intercept.”

The Brutes were making decent headway through the maze of backstreets they’d chosen to make their escape through, any civilians that got in their way either fled or were brushed aside. The crosshairs of Dean’s Stanchion hovered over the Brute carrying Khan but he didn’t fire, knowing full well that he might actually kill Khan from here. The 5.4mm round fired by the magnetic accelerator rifle had been known to cause fatalities from near misses, and with Khan literally in the arms of the huge alien it was far too risky. Besides the Brutes were moving fast, but not as fast as they could be. Clearly they were unaware of the ONI operation they’d just crashed, otherwise they wouldn’t risk the team of Spartans catching up with them. He’d only fire if absolutely necessary.
 
Last edited:
Reb's internal armor systems effortlessly translated Safaa's words to which she replied with a quick "10-4" before huddling down again. While unable to put her physical eyes on the target, his bodyguards and Safaa the built-in motion sensor kept things relatively easy enough.
There was a whisper within, one that made Reb nod in reply. "I see it," she said to no one in particular.

Up ahead was a bridge that'd block the Spartan's line of sight briefly. While Reb wasn't particularly worried for herself or for Safaa the bridge did make an excellent chokepoint and- almost as if on cue- a rugged and worn truck showed up to block off one end of the underpass.

As Safaa moved to investigate Reb picked up her pace. The fake limp was now gone and her hunched posture had straightened itself slightly. When Dean called out that Brutes had taken their target followed by barking out his orders Reb cursed and stood up straight.

"Roger! We'll get it done. Bastet! I'm circling around on the left but I left a present for you at the bridge."
True enough Reb had released her creaky old trolley before rushing down a narrow side street. Somehow the trolley moved towards the bridge om its own as if guided by some divine power.

In reality Ava- the experimental and highly classified AI paired with Reb- was driving the trolley remotely. Hidden sensors installed across its metal frame helped Ava guide the trolley through the crowds of people and eventually into the handa of Safaa.
Without word the trolley shook and shuddered as the seemingly large pile of scrap on top of it was cleared to the sides, revealing a military hardcase inside.

Protected by shock-resistant material was an experimental ONI vest and tactical visor. While not nearly as protective as a suit of MJOLNIR powered armor the vest did have a rudimentary shield generator capable of recycling shields and absorbing damage- even if it was limited. The visor worked like any other piece of tactical UNSC optics and came with a HUD, seamless communications and a ammo counter. All in all it was a temporary solution but then again it would give Safaa enough of a advantage.

Meanwhile, as she sprinted through the alleyway, Reb's eyes moved between the path in front of her and the distance marker to Khan.
"I am initiating contact with Dockmaster," spoke a calm and smooth artificial female voice.

Reb grunted. "Think you can handle him on your own?"
"No," said Ava, chuckling. "I fear that poor little me will stand no chance against that old sailor."

"Ava..." Replied Reb.

"Sorry, I forgot we were top secret government killers and that we can't joke," said Ava with a slightly mocking tone.

Reb rolled her eyes. "Just let me know if I should distract him. He might be a logistics computer at heart but at his current age too many processes should slow him down quite a bit."

Ava smacked her virtual lips. "I'm sure I'll do just fine. Hell, getting us the right information is in his interests too. What's people gonna say about Concorde if just about anyone can grab people off the street left and right without consequence, huh? It's bad for business."

"Let's hope you're right," said Reb. By now she had almost cleared the alley.
"Initiate handshake. Put offensive measures on hold for now but stand by to deliver a surprise punch just in case."

"Aye aye, sailor." Said Ava. "Let's start the introductions..."
 
Last edited:
Following Khan was simple, it was as if he hadn't realized that he had someone following him at all, which played right into Safaa''s hand, she could eventually close distance from her target, and eventually get him when nobody was looking. That is, until he got to the bridge, it happened fast enough that Safaa' was not ready, as a truck came screaming past her, placing itself between her, and Kahn, someone else was after her prey too. Not even acknowledging Dean's orders, Safaa' had her M7s at the ready, firing a quick burst into the unfortunate unggoy driver. In the back of her mind, there was something different there, a nagging fear that was long since buried, seeing the unggoy driving the truck reminded her of her time in the war. Her breath hastened, as her mind slowly succumbed to the panic, snapping from the fear for a moment, was the sound of a trolley nearing, inside, a vest, and visor. Gods in situations like this, Safaa' wished she had her armour, as tracking Kahn would have been much easier.

But that was neither here or there. Placing the vest under her coat, Safaa put the helmet on, taking up her M7s, she began to sprint towards where Rebeckah went, doing what she can to keep pace, though, taking a different route, she had a general idea of the area, and wanted to get parallel to the brutes. Weaving through the many civilians again, there was easily that sense of urgency in her that the brutes lacked, they had no knowledge that they had disrupted an ONI operation, and little thought of the ONI agent they agitated.

Positioning herself ahead of the pack, Safaa' remarked to Dean, "I'm going to start harassing the animals." Without waiting for a response, Safaa' put the sights of her M7s towards the flanking brute, before pulling the trigger for a short burst, no more than six rounds into him likely not enough to kill at center mass, but surely enough to piss him off, if not severely injure him. Following those shots, Safaa' moved, she was going to give them the idea that there's a larger force ambushing them...
 
Charlotte rolled her eyes at Dean’s orders. “My helmet is ALWAYS on, sir.”

As Paige stepped on the gas, Charlotte was already loading in a magazine into her weapon system, peering out of the window.

"Paige, the team is heading from this direction, we should cut them off. And for once I regret not bringing any heavy weapons to the situation." Charlotte braced her back against the seat, her gun aimed towards the door. She didn't have a lot of options except perhaps picking up the few members of the team and readying up for whatever Paige had in store. If she wasn't crammed in the van, she could have done something right?

Either way, the adrenaline and heat of battle was settling down into a calm, ocean of information. The target was being taken by something new. Members of a group that Charlotte hadn't anticipated before. Not Covenant and not pirates. And if the op went bad, Dean would have to pull the trigger on the dead man walking, or rather being carried at this point.


Still Charlotte wasn't too concerned. In the end, a surprise and outlier had entered this so far carefully controlled experiment. The results now would be vital for future study.
 
“Whatever your selling, I’m not interested.”

Dockmaster’s voice was heavy with the weight of years past, like the digital being had only recently recovered from some horrible flu. It was also cold and flat. Clearly he wasn’t pleased to see ONI on Concorde, although he didn’t seem particularly surprised either. Accepting Ava’s handshake was all the ground he was willing to concede, and in the digital plane on which the two A.I were meeting he stood just beyond a visual representation of his many firewalls. His chosen avatar was that of a pirate captain, complete with tricorn, pegleg and scraggly grey beard down to his chest. Even this was terribly aged though, his clothes artificially frayed, wooden leg splintered. Had he been enlisted in the UNSC the poor decrepit thing would have been put out of his misery years ago.

“I suggest you and your merry little band of imperialist dogs get the hell out of my city before I pinpoint your location to every soul with a weapon and a grudge to settle with the UNSC.”
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The target of Safaa’s gunfire staggered to a halt as her shots made their mark, thick spurts of blood dripping from between his fingers as he clamped a hand around his wound. A guttural snarl was produced by the jiralhane and he bared his fangs at the poorly armoured Spartan only to find her already dipping back out of sight. The rest of pack had heard the shots and were now on edge, forming a tight circle around Khan and the large brute carrying him. Despite no longer being able to see Safaa’ the brutes still insisted on firing a few pot-shots from their spikers back the way they had come.

Back at the warehouse Dean allowed a sigh to escape his lips. Had it been his call, and technically it was, he’d have held off on shooting the brutes until they had more Spartan’s in firing range than a lone and not even Mjolnir equipped Spartan lV. All Safaa’s burst of gunfire had done was slow down a lone brute and alert the rest to the fact they were being pursued. And those big bastards could really hustle when they needed to, even when they’re forced to constantly look over those meaty shoulders for ONI boogiemen. Still, the operation was far from unsalvageable, and he knew how excitable these IVs could be. It was however, time to intervene personally.

Spartan Z-013 took a deep breath. His finger twitched, and a brute on the right flank of the group exploded.



There really was no better way to describe it. Jiralhane were some of the toughest creatures the galaxy had to offer, but there was nothing out there made of flesh and blood that could stand up to a Stanchion round. The projectile had landed centre mass and obliterated the alien’s upper body, knocking it clean off it’s feet in the process. In it’s wake a long line of light could, for the briefest of seconds, draw a line from Dean all the way to his target. None of the Brutes wanted to stick around long enough to work out his location though. They weren’t stupid enough to remain in the barrel they’d found themselves in.

The big one dragging Khan along shouldered his way through a closed door leading into the back of a restaurant and led the way for his merry band of brutes, screams ringing out from inside as they terrorised those within. They now had two choices, bunker down inside and try and hold out against an attack or make a break for it into the next street and hope they wouldn’t get blown apart by gauss shots. Or at least those were the only choices Dean thought they had. He was proven wrong by two purple ships rising into the skyline about a km away, likely having been concealed by a dry dock of some kind until now. The pair of phantoms sped towards where the corned brutes were hiding, their powerful searchlights sweeping the streets below as they approached. Shit. If the brutes got aboard those…

“Zuko I need you in the air, we’ve got a pair of phantoms inbound and I don’t have the firepower to take them both down. Get over here and provide extraction for the others once they grab Khan.”

Until now Zuko had been concealed much like the two phantoms, sat in the cockpit of the owl dropship fireteam Mercury had stashed nearby for their extraction. The stealth ship wasn’t exactly designed with dogfights in mind but phantoms were cumbersome beasts, so with his skillset Zuko should be able to give them the run-around.

With backup now safely on the way the brutes seemed to have no intention of leaving the restaurant, and the humans that had been enjoying a late dinner in their moments ago were flooding out in terror. Inside tables had been flipped to provide temporary cover, and the jiralhane had taken up firing positions wherever they could.
 
Ava's avatar smiled as Dockmaster attempted to both scare her off and threaten her. Her virtual lips curled upwards to form a slightly cocky expression as she spoke;
"Ah, but that would be real shame, wouldn't it?"

She shrugged. "Not only would the people of Concorde find themselves at the epicenter of a HAVOK tactical nuclear weapon because, yes, we would go that far, but they wouldn't be able to hear the story of how their brave and loyal AI saved them from being dragged into a war between various Covenant splinter-factions."

Ava continued; "Look, as much as I enjoy this small-talk we both know that you and Concorde are better off the faster my team and I leave. Correct? That's not even mentioning how quickly you'd break down if I really wanted to apply pressure on you- hypothetically of course."

A silent alert from Rebeckah combined with feeds from several hacked sensors and cameras told Ava that a pair of Phantoms were currently on their way towards the brutes currently being pursued by the Spartans.

"I don't need you to be my friend," continued Ava. "But I really do need you to stand down and let me use whatever equipment you have access to in order to disrupt those two ships, though I'd settle for you simply standing down. As an AI I cannot offer you any compensation- assuming you'd want it- but I can offer a promise that an aging AI as yourself will be able to live out his final days in peace as opposed to conflict."

*
Reb cleared the alleyway and finally caught up with the trail of dark blood and still-glowing rounds fired from several different spike rifles. She still wasn't in visual range of Safaa or their brutes carrying Khan but by now she was closing in and fast. When the unmistakable sound of a Stanchion Rifle echoed throughout the district Reb increased her pacing even more.

"Safaa! Do you have eyes on the targets?" Asked Reb over the squad comms, vaulting over the disintegrated brute lying dead on the street.
 








bad luck






" if you want to die , stay out of my way "

The dark-skinned male blinked, hues narrowing as he listened attentively to the command that rattled inside his helmet. Lips curled into a scowl as he hurriedly stretched from being seated in the owl's cockpit for so many hours to the aching of his muscles as he stood - sat - in the cockpit, awaiting something to do. He hated sitting and waiting. It drove him insane. He hated waiting. Not when everyone else was out there while he was holed up in the dropship.

Hues flickering towards the weapons system with distaste. If only he had a better suited ship, then perhaps he could do something other than supply them with cover fire and get the others the hell out of there. Zuko huffed angrily as he powered on the massive beast with nimble fingers as if he were the one on autopilot.

Bright hues glistened under his helmet as his gaze once again flickered over towards the minor weapons the dropship had stashed which merely comprised six internal argent v missiles and the retractable M370 auto-cannon located under the craft’s chin which could do some damage to the twin phantoms currently slicing through the air like water.

As the small ship that could only hold ten passengers whirled to life, thrumming against his fingertips as he took flight without a hitch. The massive machine hummed silently as the cloud-gray like finish flashed against the sky while reaching to commend his commanding officer, his deep voice vibrating against his sleek armor, “in the air - heading to your location.”

Without hesitation, he veered the machine towards their direction all while his finger hovered over the button that would release hell-fire upon the phantoms, body twitching to release his pent up energy. He would never defy orders, but it wouldn’t be him if he didn’t at least put his life in danger. After all, he was bad luck to most others because of the countless times he witnessed those die around him. It was always his fault. He was surprised no one had opted to kill him, but he supposed he was still needed and then? He was nothing more than scrap metal waiting to be crushed - tossed away like yesterday’s trash in the empty streets.

Lips curling into a scowl, shaking his head to get rid of them as he focused on powering through, fingers gripping the steering mechanism tightly. Bright azure hues flickered as he caught sight of the twin phantoms, lips curling into a feral grin at the sight as he arrived shortly towards his designated destination without fail. Hues darkened as he gazed at the alienated-like ships with bitterness swelling up within the pit of his stomach while he reached over to flick on the auto-cannon.

“Damn bastards,” Zuko grumbled all while waiting for the order to drop the ramp as he hovered, the owl’s down-turned wings thrumming like a heartbeat easing his tensed muscles, all while watching the phantoms like a hawk through his helmet.

code by low fidelity.
 
That didn't go as expected. Hoping she could stop the whole contingent, Safaa' had instead only slowed but one, while he didn't have a full bead on where she was, her plan fell through in a frustrating way. However, she was not alone, as a different brute's chest had exploded open from a distant shot, Dean had made his presence known as well. Having slowed a single brute down, Safaa' didn't feel as if her idea had completely failed, as, it was one less gun that the enemy could use later, and especially so once the last of her magazine finished off the one she slowed, allowing for the much nimbler Spartan to run down the remaining brutes with dogged fury.

Reloading on the run, Safaa' kept the short pursuit, leading into a restaurant of sorts, as one brute shouldered his way in, followed by the screams of the unfortunate patrons, and his team to get within. However, things became more complicated, as over the radio there were mentions of the Phantoms inbound. 'Dammit... Of all times...' Was all the Spartan could think watching the spotlights come from the Phantoms, which were likely searching for their fireteam, "I've eyes on the building they've hidden in, they're bunkering down from what I can see past the civvies." Safaa' responded, having heard Rebeckah ask if the other Spartan had eyes on the target. Of all times, Safaa' had wished she had her armour, hell, even just her helmet would do, as the sensors that the Cat's Eye system brought would change this battle with ease. But now was no time for wishing, not while the Phantoms were in the air, and the Brutes in the resturant...

Watching the Owl engage, that brought Zuko into the fray, engaging the two phantoms. Thinking of the situation, Safaa' was effectively a non-factor in a breach situation with her light armour and armament, she could maybe take one or two shots of the Spike Rifles before it became much more of an issue, however, she had something else in mind. Darting through the alley, Safaa' wanted to be sure that she could get a full idea of the firing locations, she was going to infiltrate the restaurant, and that's where the open kitchen door came into play, as the staff fled through the door to the back, Safaa' took advantage of the chaos, slipping in behind enemy lines, "Getting eyes inside the building." She remarked over the radio before casting the helmet aside, as it only got in her way in her mind. Quickly taking up a hidden position that gave her a look through the window to the dining room, Safaa' would whisper enemy positions as she could see them, as to make sure her squamates didn't go in blind...
 
Dockmaster presented Ava with a digital scowl, not taking kindly to the younger A.I’s words or cocky attitude. He did seem to be considering her statement however, turning his avatar’s head towards where the twin phantoms had risen into the air. After a period of 2 seconds his shoulder’s slumped and he raised his hands in a defeated manner. He hadn’t bought the nuclear threat for a moment, he was old not stupid after all, and there was no chance the UNSC would risk vaporizing a target they deemed important enough to send a detachment of Spartans after, along with the Spartans themselves and a technically neutral city. However she was right that the sooner these imperialist’s were off his planet the sooner things could return to normality in his pirate paradise. And provided they weren’t seen by too many prying eyes he could spin the whole thing in his favor once they were long gone…

“Fine, have it your way.” He spat, baring his teeth in something that wasn’t quite a smile or a grimace. “I’ll take care of those phantoms for you but next time my people run into an issue I expect the UNSC to remember how accommodating we were for you, despite having every right to toss your entire team overboard.”

The gnarled sailor cracked his knuckles, a pulse of flashing light running along the length of his arms. He began to skim through the vast array of systems he was imbedded in throughout Concorde, absent mindedly twirling a stand of beard hair around a digital finger until he came across something he deemed satisfactory, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. He dismissed the rest of his logic threads with a clap of his hands, zeroing in on the line of code that he was preparing to send off to the T-27 anti-air battery he’d managed to procure after the fall of the Covenant. The imposing weapon was concealed about half a kilometer from Zuko’s owl, nestled down at the docks were it had been placed with the intent of shooting down unwelcome visitors. The elderly A.I pulled together his weary processors and powered the T-27 up, lines of blue plasma humming along the length of it’s barrel as it perked up and began tracking the two phantoms across the night sky.

“I’d like to put this behind us as soon as possible. When you’ve finished whatever shady business your trying here get the hell off my planet.”

And with that the old sailor was gone, dropping the link between himself and the Spartan’s A.I. Luckily Ava hadn’t wanted to make any new friends today anyway…

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The insectoid phantoms were in hot pursuit of Zuko, plasma turrets discharging hot globules of death as they maneuvered above Concorde’s skyline, the shots sizzling in the rain as they honed in on their target. Dean wasn’t too concerned. phantoms were dropships after all, and while certainly a threat the purple vessels made for poor air-to-air combatants. His fellow Spartan piloted the owl effortlessly out of the path of the plasma, causing the shots to sail off harmlessly into the night. Things would become tricky once Zuko had to stop and pick up his teammates however, as there was no chance the phantoms could miss a stationary target. Of course, that problem could be circumvented if he never actually had to stop the owl…

Thankfully it seemed Zuko was of the same mind as Dean, and as the stealth craft neared his sniping perch the cargo bay door dropped open to reveal the all too familiar interior. Spartan Z-013 shouldered his Stanchion and fired a single shot at the nearest phantom’s plasma turret, the round tearing through the weapon like tissue paper and causing it to explode into a shower of blue sparks and flames. With the closer of the two crafts now crippled Dean slapped his oversized weapon into the magnetic holster on his back and eyed up the open cargo bay through the yellow screen of his warmaster helmet. Zuko was moving at a reasonable pace, but not so fast that this quick transfer was going to be too difficult. Hell a confident marine could have done it. He leapt precisely the moment before the owl was about to pass by, successfully landing with a loud clunk on the ramp, magnetic boots stopping him from toppling out backwards as the pilot began to accelerate once more. Dean reached out to grab one of the rails adorning the cargo bay’s, only deactivating his boots once it was firmly in hand. Death by falling out the back of a dropship would be an embarrassing end for a Spartan after all.

With no chin gun left the phantom Dean had disarmed earlier adopted a new tactic, dropping down and behind it’s twin to allow the second phantom a clear line of fire. With plenty of ammunition left he could target the turret on this phantom as well, but that was easier said than done considering he was now rocking around in the back of a moving dropship with incoming fire. Zuko was doing a good job with evasive maneuvers but a smattering of blue death sprayed into the open dropship, creating small sizzling holes in the craft’s interior and causing Dean’s shields to flare up in response to the incoming fire. Keeping faith in the trillions ONI had invested in his MJOLNIR Z-013 stood fast and plucked his trusty weapon from his back, looping his arm through the railing he was gripping so he could hold the massive gun with both hands and attempt to return fire with some degree of accuracy. The VISR software in his helmet linked to the stanchion’s scope, causing the phantom to leap forward in 4x magnification, the plasma turret shaking wildly as Dean rocked with the movements of the stealth ship. A flash of light signaled the firing of the gauss rifle but it was impossible to tell if it had been on target as the entire left side of the phantom had erupted in flames, sending the craft careening down over the buildings below and into finally into Concorde’s infinite sea, the pilot fighting and failing to pull up and save themselves from their watery grave. What the hell had done that? It certainly hadn’t been the shot he’d fired, regardless of if he’d actually hit the phantom or not. The remaining phantom had peeled off and rounded on the source of the AA fire and as Zuko beelined for the rest of Mercury the scene came into view for Dean. A satisfied grin spread across his face as the phantom tried and failed to engage the T-27, it’s lone plasma cannon doing little to the huge weapon as it disgorged a brilliant azure stream of death. It seemed Ava and Dockmaster had reached some sort of agreement.

“Cheers for the lift Zuko, nice flying back there but I’m gonna have to knock a star of your review for the plasma damage.” Dean said over team com, planting himself in one of the 10 seats lining the cargo bay as the boarding ramp slowly closed and the stealth ship shot away over the bustling streets below. The citizens of the pirate planet were far too interested in the downed phantoms and whatever spiel Dockmaster was spinning through a city-wide PA system to look up and spot the grey ship as it settled down outside the restaurant where the rest of fireteam Mercury were engaged with the hunkered down group of Brutes. Any pedestrians that might have been around the restaurant had long been scared off by the angry aliens shouting incomprehensible threats and firing spiker shots over the heads of those fleeing, leaving nobody but the Spartans outside the building.

Dean checked his wrist mounted tacpad as he left the owl and was pleased to see Safaa’ marking off targets for the rest of the team to dispatch. Smart, considering her armour situation it would have been near suicide to take on that many by herself. As the Spartan lV continued to map out enemy locations from her hiding place Dean contact Mercury 2 over coms, knowing she was coming up behind Safaa’.

“Reb can you and Ava knock the lights out inside the building? I want you near Safaa’ in case she needs back up or any Brutes try leaving out the back once the shooting starts. Zuko, Charlotte, switch to night vision and get ready to take out designated targets the second Reb flips the switch.”

It was crucial everybody knew their place in the plan at a moment like this, especially with a live target on the line, but Dean was satisfied that every member of Mercury could pull this off like a well-oiled machine. Once the shooting started there was no need to tell the Spartan’s what to do. This is what they were born for, what ONI forged them into. Those brutes had no idea just who’s prey they’d taken…
 
“I’ll take care of those phantoms for you but next time my people run into an issue I expect the UNSC to remember how accommodating we were for you, despite having every right to toss your entire team overboard.”

Ava's virtual image nodded. "Of course, the UNSC silently thanks you for your help. From one AI to another I promise you that I'll do what I can to return the favor one day."

Then, as Dockmaster vanished, Ava silently disconnected from the outer periphery of Concorde's local data networks. Reb felt a chilling sensation at the back of her mind as her neural implants spooled up, signifying that Ava was "back" for a lack of better words.

Crouched outside the facade with her MA5K shouldered and ready Reb remained practically motionless. "Well?" She asked.

"He was a bit tense at first," Ava said playfully. "But eventually he recognized the benefits of cooperating with the UNSC military."

Reb grunted. "Good work, Ava."

"I live to serve," replied the AI.

Then almost on-cue the skies lit up further as Dean and Zuko engaged the Phantoms- only for the two dropships to be absolutely decimated by a concealed anti-air battery. Reb made a mental note to always look for concealed weapon emplacements when visiting post-war pirate installations in the future. When Dean started handing out orders over TEAMCOM Reb's acknowledgment light winked green.

Even now she could hear the Brutes shuffle around furniture and walk with heavy steps inside the restaurant. "Ava?" Reb said.

"Already in," said the AI. "Not only did I get access to the power supply of the building but I also managed to tap into every electronic screen inside..."
She continued, now with a much more amused tone; "Ready to kill the lights and follow up with blinding lights from all directions."

Reb didn't say anything. Her acknowledgment light winked green twice on Dean's HUD. Ready.

She tightened the grip around her rifle, increased frontal shield strength and awaited the order to breach...
 








bad luck






" if you want to die , stay out of my way "

The azure-hued male huffed, head inclining to the right with an annoyed hum. He was a bit irritated at the phantoms. The gentle thrum of the engine easing some tension that weighed heavily along his rhomboid and trapezius. The strain brought thrums of pain down the length of his spine, sinking deep into his nerves as he waited.

He hated waiting.

The platinum blond brute grumbled as the owl touched down, allowing Dean to leave into the fray of battle. His body thrummed at the familiar sounds, tempting him to join those on the ground but refrained.

He was much more lethal in the air than he was on the ground, but Zuko was just as reckless.

Azure hues flashed with mild annoyance, a puff of air wheezing past his parted lip that settled into a thin line. He wondered how far he could push the dropship ( not that he hadn’t tired before ). The machine continued to hum melodically, its sleek cloud-grey frame blending into Concorde’s skyline. His head tilted at the sudden static of the comm, eyebrows knitting together in concentration.

“Affirmative.” His deep rumbling voice echoed like the roar of an engine, sending shivers down the length of his spine. Hues flashing with excitement, allowing a quick curl of his lips that settled into a thin line. The owl might have a minor choice in weapons, but he was thankful for its sensors and night vision.

A thundering thrill rattled in the base of his throat while watching in anticipation for the fight that would begin. His heart thundering against his caged rage, roaring in his ears as he waited for his cue to fire the retractable M370 auto-cannon. He was beyond excited to fire at something.

code by low fidelity.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top