Alright boys girls and others, I'm here again to see what I can do to peak your interest in my writing. I'm AA, if you're following my writing I started and had a block on a RWBY fanfiction writing that followed a team of my own original characters. It ended when I couldn't figure out where to continue, or how I could. I'm going to try seeing what I can do to continue it here soon. For now, I hope this can appease the ones who watch for me, and help get my name out there so I can get more feedback on my work and learn how I can write better. I hope you enjoy and review my writing.

I do not own Halo or any rights to the series, this is only a fiction following an idea that a friend of mine had when we we're playing through the series. Depending on how well I can get this to flow this may become more than just a short story, if you'd like to see more or have suggestions feel free to PM myself or review the writing. Thank you for your time, let's finish this fight.

Receiving encrypted message…

Message file corrupted…

Preparing cypher programing…

File: Media_Attachment damaged…

Sender: Redacted

Subject: Immediate pick-up

Status: -file corrupt-

With the minimal staffing of this comms station, two naval officers were on their rotation of one standard day on, one off, the station quiet, sitting on the outside edge of the Epsilon Eridnai system, with Humanity's near annihilation, and with much of the colony worlds glassed or severely radiated from the plasma bombardments of the Covenant that attacked. The junior officer sipped coffee as he read the message, with no details, and the file corrupted he could make no sense of it.

"Major, are you getting this?" Ensign Robert Taylor asked turning from his message center. The Deck officer turned towards the message center, then recieted the message. Tacking to the end, "Sir, how can we reply to a hail for evac without knowing who or where they are?"

The Major swiped his screen to pull up the message. "Triangulate the message origin, There's only three teams we are currently responsible for relaying messages to, and each are in different regions."

"Aye, Sir." Taylor stated while typing in the sequence and expanding his screen to have more viewing area. Within minutes the triangulation process was completed. "Sir, it's being relayed from a communications buoy from the other side of Reach. The signal was sent from out side of the map."

"Out side the map? Are you sure Taylor?" The Major asked, walking briskly to his subordinate's station. Selecting the location of the ping, then redoing the man's triangulation process. The beacon jumped from it's pinging location to their location then back to the planet which was home to the Spartan three projects. Full ONI jurisdiction, not his, but if he were not to act, his collar would be on the line, "Patch the signal to the ONI listening station. This has them written all over it." The Major said backing from the work space. The Ensign resumed his space, following the instruction of his superior.

"What now, sir? What if those guys are in trouble down there?" The man asked.

"It's not our conscern, ONI takes care of ONI business, not the other way around, if ONI want's full UNSC help, they will contact an emergency response team that is in the area."

"Rise and shine boys and girls." The main cryo-technitian stated as he popped the caps of the ODST squad that the Destroyer, Seasons In The Abyss carried as part of her contingent. Being the escort to the ONI stealth cruiser Affirmative Action, the two ships were assigned to assess the distress beacon that had arose from the now abandoned military installation. For now, our job was to get out of the bay then stand by, which usually meant full gear, full load out and ready to move. "Cock, get your fucking team out of my way." A very pissed off Gunney Thompson stated as my two new kids were toddling around as they were supposed to be heading to the showers.

"Hey Mother fuckers! You heard Gunney. Now, move." I said, having a name pronounced the same as a company known for it's cuts of chicken had it's downfalls, like the now official nickname that always had something to do with chickens, weither it was Chicken, Cock, Rooster, or anything else my staff felt like calling me that day. My new guys began to move stumbling while trying to warm up from cryo-sleep.

"Hey Chicken, dibs on first drop." My counter part, the third fireteam leader, Corporal Heather MacAllister said flipping me off.

I shook my head as I headed to the showers to give a rinse of my body before I got into my gear. "What ever you say Mac. I just want a shower and to not have to beat myself with my metal arm to do anything."

"Well get goin' stumpy, can't back up the Spartans with only one arm." She said as she hit the door way. I rolled my eyes and continued into the showers. Stripping before stepping under the stream of water for a few moments, running my one hand through my hair to get it wet instead of have all the water just fall over my head. I stepped from under the water to where my locker was, pulling out a towel and my skivvies before drying off with the towel and beginning to dress, catching up with the rest of my team in their various stages of showering.

I wrapped my towel around my waist and began to the sinks, opting to shave before getting in uniform. One of my juniors, though in just as long, Patt, came to the sink next to me, "Think we're even going to be boots on the ground?"

I shrugged between swipes of the razor, "Honestly we're back up if the Spartans can't handle it, and since this is an ONI operations and handling team, I doubt we'll be on the ground unless something is way out of wack. So I'd say be on stand by with the absolute basics, recon load out." Recon load out for my fireteam meant pack light, weapons, four plus one mag for the main weapon, and two plus one for the side arm."

He gave a nod, he was my point man, the most experienced man on the team besides myself, having five combat campaigns under each of our belts and being from the same training company since ODST training, this was both of our second enlistments, neither of us were going to make this a career, it had already taken a lot from them both, with my arm gone I was surprised they let me re-up after the war, but they were short on ODSTs, especially after the S-IV project opened up to all applicants, especially that of specialist NCOs. I beat the razor against the sink to get the last few hairs that get stuck between the blades out of the spaces before putting away the kit. I moved back to the locker room to get dressed and got myself into my utility trousers before pulling out my calibration tool for my mechanical arm from the duffel bag of bull shit I had. I put the tool to the access port, wiring it in and putting it through the debugging procedure then had it run through recalibration, telling me to think and attempt the actions of moving my forearm, twisting my wrist, clenching and unclenching my fist, then moving my fingers individually.

Once the process was completed, I unplugged the tool, and put it back in my bag. The one bad thing about the permanent prosthetic was the fact that it was prone to damage in cryo, even if it was something just as simple as loosing motor function, it was a time consuming fix.

"Corporal Purdue, where do we go from here?" One of the rookies asked coming up to me.

"Go prep your shit, you have three minutes to have your weapons in your pod and your gear on your body, tell your twin the same. Go." I said using my prosthetic to make a loose fist and open it as I said 'Go'. He took off and I put my combat shirt on, a more breathable version of our utility that was more form fitting, resembling the S-IV's base layer suit's top without all the armor or receptacles over it. I rolled the layer over my prosthetic back over the joint at what would be my elbow, the fabric often caught in the prosthetic, and jammed up the joint, problem with having tech from the fall of Reach was that it was basically built rapidly, and made to get the user back in the fight in weeks instead of months. Currently, there have been many cases of repairs and even full on replacements being required for certain batches that were made from the model of prosthetic that I had on my arm, and now that we humans have space to breathe again, the quality of the gear is jumping up some what.

I walked to the locker with my name on it and reset my bag before gearing up, starting with the vest, clipping into it then setting up the armor for my legs, strapping up the armor after clipping it into the placements in the utilities. I set up my shoulder pads strapping them up after fixing the hook into the slot on the sleeve, then brought the forearm pieces as I walked after the two rookies, really, I just wanted them to not act as dumb as they did, it'd make my job a lot easier, but, it wasn't likely that it'd happen, especially since the kids were about as dumb as dog shit.

My Gunney stopped me, putting his hand out then edging me back before stepping in front of me, "Chicken."

"Yes, Gunney?" I asked, I don't recall having done anything to piss him off before I got to this point besides my two juniors making asses out of themselves.

"I'm having a meeting in the smoke pit in ten minutes between my fireteam leaders, I already told Mac, I haven't seen Cole, let him know if you see him." He said before tapping my chest plate with his fist and walking off.

"Aye Gunney." I said making my way to the armory to get my weapons, the standard issue battle rifle, a silenced pistol and my fail-safe, an eight gauge short barreled shot gun with a foldable stock that would sit on the side of my pack if there was an absolute emergency, or a door that needed blown off the hinges. Picking up my rifle, I pulled my add-ons from my cargo pocket and placed the foregrip on the lower rail, added my tac-light to the side of the barrel on what was my outside with the on switch to the light going where my thumb could touch on the fire arm, up by the foregrip. I checked the add-ons for tightness and went through the functions check, being sure that everything worked as it was supposed to. When it did I set it down on the table to check my pistol, checking the silencer to be sure it was fixed to the muzzle before going through my functions check and placing it in my drop holster that was on my mid thigh at my dominant side. I picked up my rifle carrying it with the muzzle pointed between my feet as I walked to my pod.

The two boots were finishing their gear tabs as I came up. I checked the watch on my wrist, it was sitting five minutes later than it had been when I told them that they had three minutes. "So you both want to say fuck me and waste my time?" I asked as I came up to them in a slightly surprised voice.

"No Corporal." They both chimed, standing themselves up, waiting for me to further berate them. I put my rifle in the pod before placing my helmet on the seat.

"Both of you, go figure out where Sergeant Cole is, tell him Gunney want's all fireteam leaders in the smoke pit at..." I looked at my watch, "1355."

They gave their own respective nods before taking off. I made my way to the pit, pulling the pack from my hard case on my thigh with my disposable lighter inside the half used pack. Once I got there I pulled one out, and lit it. I stood by the butt can that was more a pole with slits in the side that held a filtration vent over the area so that the smoke would be filtered and removed from the equation. I saw the other two fire team leaders come up and then Gunney, who sat on the bench in the small area, "Alright, lets get this over with, everyone have their counts?"

Cole read off his numbers and then Mac did the same, with me at the end. Gunney nodded, "Alright, now, Spartan team Janus has begun their approach to the target, current reports are that they are en route to the beacon on the outside of the city of Casbah, currently they are eight mikes from the location of the beacon. Only information they are giving us about the beacon is that it was an ONI recon team's signal. With the amount of time that's gone by, I'm doubting there are going to be any survivors there, it's been three days, and with the insurrectionists and covenant loyalists surging back into prominence, we're probably going to see hard contact from the Spartan team, they asked for us to be a panic button to help get heat off of them instead of go in with them and fan out from there."

He took a puff of his cigarette and exhaled the smoke, "Now, that being said, each one of you know what you're doing, the only team I'm worried about is Purdue's with two new guys, I'm not sure how well they'll do."

"We've been hitting them hard with training Gunney, they're green, but their ready." I replied

He nodded, "Having each other team with one rookie, they should all be well off with experience. Anyways, the assignment's I have for each of you are simple as of now, I'll update details as I get them, but Cole, your team is going to be dropped in advance of the Spartan team when they call. MacAllister, your team is going to be on overwatch in a Falcon that will be flying in support of a Pelican flying in for evac and medical pick up. Purdue, your team is going to be direct support to the Spartan team, dropping in danger close to them when ever they call."

I gave a nod and puffed on my cigarette, the other two nodded, Mac asked, "Any special load outs you want our teams having?"

Gunney was caught in the middle of a puff, he exhaled quickly, "Your choices, I honestly don't give a damn, we have limited support, the Cruiser we're up here with isn't equipped for a sustained ground fight, and this destroyer can't sustain ground fights for long either, there's less than a company of marines on this old bitch and enough trucks to move a platoon and that's it."

I gave a nod and finished my cigarette, scraping the butt against the mesh of the can's inlet before dropping the now cherry-less butt in the can. Gunney did the same before saying, "After you get your teams ready, Mac, go to the hangar, the bird taking you down is called "Cigar boat", Cole and Purdue, your teams are going in the launch bay. Go." I gave a nod and the others gave their own recognitions.

I headed to the armory and pulled what I thought my team may need, my new guy, Alphabet was our team's EOD tech, Patt and I were riflemen, with myself being cross trained with Corpsmen, and the other new one, the one girl on the team, who hadn't got a name from the team yet Smith, was our team's automatic rifleman. I returned with the weapon bags and handed them off to the two new guys, "Alphabet, you're getting the grenade launcher, Smith, you're trading up, get rid of the rifle, you have a SAW. Patt, you still know what you're doing with a marksman rifle?"

Patt gave a smirk, "Better than you know your way around a med bag." He said taking the rifle from my hands, trading up his battle rifle for the more accurate DMR. The other two did the same, following the lead of their, more experienced team mate. I checked over my gear, sorting through the inventory of mags, realizing I said recon load, not combat load, I cursed myself and pinged up the message to Patt on the short wave chat that was on my wrist, giving three bursts of vibration to it, one meant disarm, two meant recon load, three meant combat load. I checked my personal medical bag that would sling on the outside of my hard pack to be sure I had everything necessary for medical practice, a couple of bags of iodine tablets, eight canisters of bio-foam, gauze sheets, tape, and multiple doses of a mild sedative to relieve pain.

Patt and the two others came back with their new weapons and with the ammunition for them. I secured my pack to the pod and went to update my ammunition count. I headed to the armory and as I got the additional rounds in forms of mags and bags, the alarm went off, and I heard the Gunney's voice, "Teams one and three, get your asses in the pods, drop in two mikes!"

I cussed to myself and ran the way back to my pod, putting my mags in the pouches that my vest had while moving. I dropped my shotgun shells in the cargo piece to the top of my chest armor before getting to my team. Patt was already checking the new ones' straps and everything by the time I got there, I slid the last of my ammo in place while climbing into the pod. "Patt, strap in, less than a minute on that timer."

Patt nodded and moved, sliding in the pod to my left. I pulled my helmet up and strapped myself into my pack and the pod, "Everyone check in."

"Smith here." Smith stated first.

"Alfonse-Romera here." Alphabet responded moments later.

"Patterson here." Patt said.

"Good, team three is up." I said as I clicked on the green light for my team's status indicator. As I did so, Gunney came by, checking last minute on my team.

"Chicken, the situation downstairs has gone to shit, as of right now, Janus is on their target location, but came into an ambush, they have one WIA, and currently are calling for air support, MacAllister is riding down now as we speak, but the two drop teams are the ones that are going to be there first, get them covered, get the area clear, and move, bridge posted an alert that there's a hostile battle group inbound. Get down there, and get back as soon as possible."

I gave a nod, "We're your team Gunney." I said as the pod began to automatically close before pulling itself to the racking position. "As soon as we hop out, be sure you stay with the rest of the team, this is a combat drop, this isn't training anymore." I said mostly to our new guys. I got clicks of acknowledgment as the racks were set. I gave my breathing count as my pod stopped, it took one full inhale, and one good deep exhale before being launched. I inhaled slowly and fully, exhaling just as much, the launch caught me just as my lungs were about to empty, knocking the last bit from my chest as I went into an aided free fall. I watched as the hull gave way to space, and the planet, over a hundred total jumps, and it never failed to captivate me to see the planet, seeing it from upper atmosphere as it rapidly drew me to it's surface.

I felt the jolt as the drag chute opened for the pod, watching as the cloud cover took my view then left, just a few seconds more, then I'd feel the sharp jolt of the ground as impact occurred, the boosters fired to slow the pod down to protect the person inside from being a part of a crumpled can if someone were to hit the ground at terminal velocity.

The jolt came and I pulled out my rifle, waiting the moment before my door would pop.