Human Colony of Victoria
111 Tauri System
November 18th 2545 (0638 Military Standard Time)
"This is Oculus One, Oculus Team check in." Lieutenant Drake-114 called over his team's COM channel.
"Oculus Two in position." Lieutenant Junior Grade Brooke-115, the team's reconnaissance specialist and second in command, checked in.
"Oculus Three in position." Warrant Officer Ty-B147, the team's demolitions expert radioed.
"Oculus Four in position." Warrant Officer David-A229, the team's sniper checked in quietly.
"Oculus Five in position." Warrant Officer Hunter-A184, the team's technician checked in last.
"All Spartans present and accounted for," Drake stated flatly. "We are prepared to execute mission. Flash me your indicator light for acknowledgment." All of the lights in Drake's heads up display flashed simultaneously. "Acknowledged, move out on my mark. Three...two...one...mark." On mark, Drake rushed from his cover in the trees to a Covenant barricade that was on the edge of the enemy camp. He looked to his left and right and saw the other Spartans doing the same. All except for David-A229.
"David, give me a sitrep. How's it looking?" Drake asked as he peaked around his barricade.
"This is the busiest Covenant camp I've ever seen." David snorted. "Eighteen squads of Grunts roaming the interior perimeter. Ten Jackal snipers set up in sniper nests around the camp. Finally there's about fifty Elites with a mixed bag of troops throughout the entire camp. Then of course we have our main objective in the dead center. One Type-27 Prototype Plasma Cannon." the Sniper gave a rundown of the alien infested camp.
"Brooke, what can you tell us from your run around?" Drake asked the recon expert.
"Well for one, they have Spec Ops Elites patrolling the woods around us. Then in a clearing not far from here, they have eighteen fully armed dropships ready to provide air support. And finally their CCS-Class Battlecruiser is parked in orbit just over us."
"Thank you for the good news, as always." Drake replied sarcastically.
"A pleasure," Brooke replied in a similarly sarcastic tone.
"David, make sure you keep an ear open and an eye on your motion sensor. Don't want one of those Elites to get the drop on you." Drake cautioned the sniper, who silently replied with an acknowledgment light. "Alright Ty, I want you on those dropships. As soon as we go loud I want those crafts to go boom, understand?" Drake asked the demolitions master.
"Consider it done, sir." Ty replied with barely contained excitement.
"Perfect. Alright Spartans, prepare to execute attack. David, work on taking out those snipers quiet as you can. After they're dispatched, just keep me covered. The rest of you Spartan-III's, take full advantage of your top of the line cloaking systems, courtesy of the Office of Naval Intelligence. Just bear in mind your SPI armor can't hold up to more than a couple hits of plasma. Stay hidden and stay nimble. Good luck Spartans, see you on the inside." Drake shut off the COM and prepared himself to rush forward. He steadied his breathing and pulled the charging handle on his MA5B Assault Rifle. The smooth slide and click of the bolt was comforting to the Spartan's ears. One last breath and the Lieutenant hopped over the barricade and quickly moved to the next point of cover. He swept back and forth with his rifle as he moved. The whisper quiet snaps of David's Suppressed SRS99C-S2 Sniper Rifle could just barely be heard. With each crack, a Jackal fell dead in its sniper nest.
Sierra-114 narrowly avoided detection by a squad of Grunts as he moved. Drake sat in cover for a minute until a green indicator light blinked in his Heads Up Display. It was from Ty, he had the charges set and ready to blow. That meant the team could go loud at any point. Drake trained his rifle on the group of Grunts and was about to fire when he heard the gravel move behind him. Drake whipped around to be met by the ugly mug of an Elite. The unmistakable gold armor with glowing accents pointed to one class of Elite, a General. The Spartan had faced a few Generals in his time, mostly as targets of assassination. He relished the chance to fight a General head on, hoping to see its combat skills firsthand. The massive and powerful Alien produced a deep throaty roar, fully extending its four mandibles, signaling the desire to fight.
"You wanna dance Hinge-head? Lets dance." Drake smirked. He held down the trigger to his rifle, quickly unloading his magazine into the General's stomach. Its energy shield was absorbing the rounds but the kinetic energy caused the Elite to stumble backwards. The shield finally broke, but by that time the Rifle's clip was empty. The Golden Elite bellowed with rage and activated an Energy Sword he pulled off his hip. The fork-like blade hissed as the plasma heated the air around it, arcs of electricity jumping between the two blades. Drake quickly tried to reload his Assault Rifle, but the Elite swatted the weapon out of his hands. The Hinge-head picked him up by his throat and was about to run him through with his blade when a hushed crack intervened. A round from David's Sniper Rifle struck the General, breaking its recently regenerated shields once more. It dropped Drake and stepped backwards, narrowly missing a follow-up shot. The distraction gave the Lieutenant enough time to grab his rifle and slam in a fresh magazine. With a satisfying click of the receiver, Drake took aim at the Alien's head and held down the trigger. The hail of lead eviscerated the Elite's skull, turning its head to mush, held together only by its bullet-ridden helmet. The body collapsed into a pool of dark blue blood, splashing on the Spartan's armor.
"Thanks David," Drake let out a long breath.
"Anytime sir," he replied with smug confidence. Miraculously the fighting had not drawn attention to the invading Spartans. Drake kept moving through the camp, dispatching groups of Grunts and Jackals, and the occasional Elite. Still managing to remain quiet somehow. As he got closer to the cannon he understood why. The thunderous rumbling of the cannon's reactor made it difficult to hear much of anything. Within forty minutes since the mission clock began, Drake made it to the entrance of the cannon's control room. Of course there was a special guest waiting for him in the doorway. An absolutely gargantuan Elite, even for his species, clad in ornate maroon armor. It was obvious to Drake this Elite was a Zealot. He had read the reports from the field about Zealots, from their armor to their tactics. However, unlike the General, this was the first time he met one face to face. He was unsure exactly how the fight would go, but he wanted the opportunity to try. The Zealot wielded an Energy Sword and a Plasma Pistol, which was trained on Drake's head.
"You are a difficult Demon to keep track of." It growled.
"I would disagree, you can always find me around a pile of dead split-lips." Drake prodded. The Elite did not seem to be phased whatsoever.
"You talk big, nishum, but I have the advantage. My superior weaponry will kill you before you can get too close." The large Elite stated slightly puffing out his chest in confidence.
"True, I am too far to rush you and live. Your shields are also too strong for my rifle to kill you quick enough. But you have no such advantage over her," Drake jerked his head skyward.
"What!?" The Elite exclaimed in surprise, looking up. From above, like an artillery strike, Lieutenant Brooke-115 came down on top of the Elite. She drove her knife into its skull as she brought her bulk down on top of the hinge-head. If the knife did not kill it, the crushing weight of a Spartan in full MJOLNIR armor did.
"Good job," Drake gave a thumbs up.
"All in a days work," Brooke retorted, removing her knife from the skull of the dead Elite.
"Still more to do," Drake said stabbing his thumb towards the cannon control room. As he said that two Spartan-III's in SPI armor materialized as if from nowhere.
"Warrant Officers," Drake nodded to them. "Any news to bring?"
"I pulled the pin on the dropships, they won't be a problem." Ty said with firm nod.
"I have news that is not so pleasing," Hunter stated, an obvious sadness tinged his throat. "David was...he was compromised. An Elite patrolling the trees around the camp discovered him, and killed him."
"I see," Drake said with a lump in his own throat. He marked David as Missing in Action, as per protocol, on the team roster that appeared in his HUD. It saddened him greatly, but he knew they had to keep moving on.
"However the silver lining, if you want to see it, his armor's reactor detonated. Took the son of a bitch hinge-head with it." Hunter said with mellowed anger and sadness.
"Good," Drake nodded. "I know it's difficult to lose a team member, but we have to press on. Or else his death will be in vain." They all nodded in agreement. "Alright Hunter, here's your chance to pay David back. Get in this control room and see what you can do about this cannon." Drake ordered.
"Yes sir," Hunter nodded. He ran into the control room and quickly went to work. Brooke approached Drake and put her hand on his shoulder.
"It wasn't your fault," she consoled him. "Besides, you know what they say. Spartans never die, they just go missing in action."
"I know, it's still hard. I remember when I first brought him aboard. Crazy bastard was ready to go take on the whole Covenant. He was a good kid," Drake admitted. In that moment he remembered, that David really was just a kid. The Spartan-III's were augmented at twelve, and that was no more than nine years prior for David.
"Spartans! Look alive! We've got company!" Brooke called out, rifle at the ready. Drake raised his rifle to see Covenant troops surrounding them. Except for a few Jackals taking pot shots, they did not fire.
"Why are they holding their fire?" Drake asked, keeping his rifle trained on the Covenant in front of him.
"No clue," Brooke admitted. The Spartans and the Covenant stood in a face off as neither side launched an attack. When a shadow began to enshroud the area, the Aliens started retreating into the woods. Drake and his team seemed confused as they looked back and forth at each other. Finally they looked up to see that the Covenant CCS-Class Battlecruiser had taken it's place over their heads.
"They mean to glass us and this camp. They don't want the cannon falling into our hands." Drake stated.
"Sir!" Hunter called. "The cannon has a lock on the Battlecruiser. Permission to fire?" Hunter asked in disbelief. Drake raised an unseen eyebrow, sharing in his disbelief.
"There is no way the Covenant are this dumb," Drake whispered. "Permission granted!" He yelled. "Light 'em up!" After he gave the command, Hunter keyed the firing panel. In a few seconds, the cannon began to spin up and it fired three High-Velocity Plasma rounds upward. The bolts hit the Cruiser's shields, striking the glowing barrier, causing the craft to rock to one side. Much to their dismay though, the shields held up to the plasma. Warrant Officer Hunter keyed the fire switch again, launching another salvo of plasma at the cruiser. This time the shields failed, glowing bright before finally breaking.
"Again!" Brooke ordered. Hunter gave a thumbs up and pressed the panel one more time. The cannon fired once more and this time the bolts struck the ship's hull directly. Explosions bloomed from the underside of the ship as the rounds struck. With the impact of the last shot, the Alien craft erupted in a final central explosion. Chunks of alien metal and flaming debris began to rain to the surface. Large chunks struck all around the Spartans and AA Gun.
"Hunter, blow the reactor." Drake ordered firmly, while dodging flaming metal. "We need to leave."
"But sir, this reactor could cause an explosion that will destroy the surface for Kilometers. Half the planet maybe." Hunter warned.
"We have a clear objective, Hunter. ONI wants this cannon gone and that's what we'll do." Drake replied in a commanding voice.
"Yes sir," Hunter replied with some reluctance. The same reluctance that made him hesitate hitting the kill switch. "Wait, how are we getting out?"
"Good question," Drake pondered. As he thought, a transmission came over their COMs.
"Oculus Team, this is Oculus Actual. Are you prepared for evac?"
"Roger that Oculus Actual. We are ready to blow the reactor as soon as we have a ride home." Drake replied.
"Negative Oculus Team, we cannot send an evac craft until the reactors are set to detonate. ONI orders." Oculus Actual replied.
"Then you better be damn quick getting us out." Drake pointed to Hunter and gave him the thumbs up. He tapped at the console furiously before hitting a glowing red sigil. Once pressed, a countdown appeared over the console. "Reactors set to blow, you have sixty seconds starting five seconds ago." Drake ordered and shut off the COM. "I swear if we die down here I'm gonna kill 'em." Drake said shaking his head. As the countdown was nearing completion, a jet-black Pelican swooped down and hovered over the surface. The Spartans ran towards the dropship and jumped inside the troop bay. Once aboard, Drake ran to the front and slammed his hand against the wall of the cockpit.
"Get us out now!" He exclaimed. The pilot nodded and keyed the thrusters. The craft climbed into the air towards space as the cannon exploded in a wave of pure energy. It swept outwards from ground zero and consumed the surface quickly. Hunter watched out of the rear view port as the destruction he warned of ensued. The Pelican reached the hangar of the UNSC Hidden Enigma where it docked in safety. The Spartans climbed out of the troop bay, this time one soldier short.
"Spartans," Drake turned to the two Spartan-III's. "Go ahead and armor down and get some rest. Brooke and I will make the report."
"Yes sir," Ty and Hunter both saluted the Lieutenants and hurried from the hangar. Drake turned to Brooke and gave a solid nod, both of them starting for the bridge. Once there, Drake approached the Captain of the ship and gave a crisp salute.
"Sir, Spartan Drake-114." He stated.
"At ease, Spartan." The Captain waved. Drake relaxed and looked him square in the eye after removing his helmet.
"Sir, the mission was successful. The cannon was destroyed, only one Spartan casualty." Drake reported a bit too casually.
"My sympathies, Spartan." The Captain said. "I'll report in to Admiral Parangosky and let her know. You and your team go get some sleep. It is well deserved." Drake nodded, gave a salute, and left the Bridge. He met up with his Spartans in the armory who were still deconstructing their armor.
"Officer on deck!" The young Master-at-Arms called out, standing at attention.
"Carry on," Drake snorted. "And by the way," he looked at the man looking for his name. "Irvings," he stated firmly. "Don't call the deck to attention for me."
"No problem sir," Irvings replied somewhat confused.
"I know you're taught different, but I prefer not to bring attention to myself any more than I have to." The Spartan explained. The Enlisted trooper gave an acknowledging nod and went back about his business. The Lieutenant turned to his Spartan-III's and looked them over. He noticed a couple singe marks on their SPI armor, but they looked altogether alright.
"Can we do anything for you Lieutenant?" Ty met his gaze.
"No Warrant, I'm fine. Just checking in on my men. Making sure everyone is alright." Drake started to trail off, thoughts of David creeping in on his mind.
"Yes sir, we're fine. Just wish David would have come back with us." Hunter admitted.
"I know. Me too. It's never easy to see a teammate die, especially in a leadership position. But we have to move forward. If we let the Covenant win, his death will mean nothing." Drake announced, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than his men.
"Will we get a replacement?" Ty wondered.
"Not sure. There doesn't seem to be many Spartan-III's to pull from, and I doubt another Spartan-II will be assigned to us. Only time can tell." He speculated.
"You're probably right. With the death of all of Alpha Company and Beta Company dead, far as I know we're all that's left." Ty admitted.
"We'll see," Drake muttered to himself.