~This is a story following the mission of Recon Team Sigma, and elite ODST squad. My first upload, and I would appreciate any feedback and reviews that anyone would like to give. Kindly keep it constructive critism though, right? Awesome. ~Alell~
Corporal Brian Carson knelt down to pull tight the metal clasps on his combat boots. He straightened and double checked the clips on his chestpiece, making sure that they were still sturdy. Carson grabbed his ballista-proof gloves from the shelf on his left and slipped them over his hands. They fit like a second skin, if you didn't mind the steel plate on the back of each hand. Carson had grown used to the feel after 18 months in the Corps. He had joined the United Nations Space Corps when he was 20, originally signing up for a pilot. However, as he worked more and more on his weapons and combat training during boot camp, Carson realized that a pilot wasn't going to be able to satisfy his thirst for battle. With that thought in mind, Carson abandoned his career as a pilot and began intensive training for an Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, chosen for the program after showing considerable prowess in the marksmanship training.
He was now a few weeks away from his 22nd birthday, and was part of a highly tactical ODST squad known as Recon Team Sigma, often referred to as simply Sigma, or RS. Along with the other members of his squad, Carson had a strong sense of companionship and brotherhood. That's what made their team great. That's what allowed them to thrive and survive.
As he walked toward the sliding metal door, Carson scooped up his helmet off the metal crate that served as his bedside table and tucked it under his arm. Reaching into the pocket on his side, he removed a small data tablet, which contained all the information about the assignment he and his group were getting prepared to engage.
Although the Covenant were still a major threat, the colonists on the outer rims were getting extremely panicked. Some had gone to the extreme of trying to secede from the UNSC. Some had succeeded. Or at lease succeeded to the point that they had no UNSC personnel watching over them. All, if any, who had been stationed on those colonies had either been captured, killed, or had converted to their cause. Most of these colonies were small, and easily handled by a small force of marines. Occasionally, though, a big enough population had been convinced by a rather charismatic speaker that they would be better off alone. This called for a more specialized op team, for the UNSC wanted as little bloodshed as possible, which was understandable, for they were still part of the human race. This was the case on the colony Consent, which was the planet that the UNSC frigate Give Remembrance, which contained Carson and his squad, was heading towards.
On the planet Consent, a radical revolutionary named Tyson Sig had risen up after a hard winter, for the planet orbited in a pattern that gave 8 months of cold, harsh winds and snow. One of the outer cities had literally frozen because their generator had been broken by a minor meteor, and the UNSC didn't respond to the call for help quick enough. It wasn't exactly the fault of the UNSC. They did have a war going on, and many other colonies were being completely demolished, leaving little room to worry about a single city on a planet that wasn't even at risk yet. Even with these explanations, the time of grief was great enough that Sig rose up and called out to the colonists to demand freedom and declare their independence. As always, in a time of need, a solution always presents itself in a brighter light than it really emits. The same could be said of Sig, who converted the colonists to pirates and raiders, who plundered any cargo ship or transport that strayed to close to their planet. They had started as minor hijackings, with some good being stolen from freighters, and occasionally the ships would be commandeered, but as of late, the colonists had ramped up the stakes. They had begun to kill the crew of the ships, and had grown bold enough to actually attempt an attack on the UNSC cruiser Rising Twilight as it was returning to a shipyard after a Covenant encounter.
Needless to say, the UNSC had had enough. Plans were made, and troops were called together to decide what needed to be done. Finally, Carson and his team had been drafted for the assignment. They were fine with the choice. This is what they did. This is what they trained for.
Carson entered the hangar where his three comrades sat near a Pelican dropship, a pilot checking the engines. Sergeant Norman Barker made eye contact with Carson and slightly nodded his head. Carson returned the nod and glanced at the marine who was calmly cleaning an M6G pistol with painstaking determination. Private Second Class Gregory Sheffler lifted his hand from the pistol and gave a casual salute. Private First Class Marcus Reyes was less militaristic and flashed the peace sign, BR55 Battle Rifle clasped loosely in his hand.
"All briefed and ready?" questioned Barker, a small spark of anticipation showing in his voice.
"All briefed and ready, sir," replied Carson sharply, rapping a knuckle on his helmet. "We all set to drop?"
"No, and for two reasons," Barker said, rising from a sitting position and crossing his arms loosely across his chest. "First, we aren't dropping in." Carson cocked his head in interest. Usually, ODST's, as their names implied, entered combat through HEV pods, essentially metal coffins that were rocketed from and orbiting ship, through the atmosphere, and onto the surface. It was quick, rather undetectable, and minimized collateral damage and equipment loss, which was always a danger with any other type of vehicle landing. "I know, caught me off guard as well," commented Barker as he noticed Carson's face. Carson blinked and straightened out his expression. "We will be taking this Pelican here, which will drop us off about a mile from the outskirts of the city. Second, we still need to gear up." Again Carson looked at him in mild confusion. "Weapons kid, we got some good ones for us. Some pretty kick-ass equipment as well." Barker started walking off the flight deck towards the armory. Sheffler stood as well, stretched, and smacked his lips. He spun his pistol around in his hand and slipped it into the holster at his belt as he followed Barker through the sliding metal door. Carson started after Sheffler, and Reyes fell in step beside him.
"Man I hope this pilot can fly." Reyes rolled his eyes and stuck a thumb over his shoulder at the Pelican.
"I have the same thoughts," agreed Carson. "I can't even count the number of times I've heard of a bird going down."
"Even though I have a chance of death each time I jump, at least it will just be me, not my whole team," said Reyes, speaking with a trace of humor. Carson smirked as they rounded the corner and followed the arrow painted on the floor that lead to the armory. Twenty more steps and the pair turned left into the armory, where weapons lined the walls. There was even a row of tables, stretching the length of the room that contained a plethora of different devices. Sheffler was nodding in approval when Carson caught sight of him. Carson walked over to check out what Sheffler was examining. On the table was what looked like a metal squid. On one side was a bulbous sphere, somewhat resembling a fragmentation grenade, that was stretched ever so slightly so that it took on a more elongated shape. The other side was four spikes, or legs, that extended downward, away from the bulbous head. Sheffler was holding one in his gloved hand, rolling it over in interest.
"And what the hell are these things?" asked Carson mockingly.
"This is going to save your life brother," replied Sheffler seriously, disregarding Carson's sarcasm. "This is a anti-artillery and personal defense shield, or just called a 'bubble shield.' "
"Two questions," piped in Reyes. "One, what does it does, and two, why is it called a bubble shield?"
"It creates an energy shield that protects from any sort of weapon ammunition, from bullets to energy beams, plasma bolts to grenades," replied Sheffler. "And it's called a bubble shield, because, well, that's what it looks like." To follow up his explanation, he keyed the activation button and tossed the device to the ground. It rolled a few inches then hummed, standing up on its legs. There was a climax of humming then a quick flash of light. The soldiers found themselves enclosed in a shimmering gold bubble.
"Damn, you're right, it is a bubble," laughed Carson. Sheffler reached out and grabbed the emitter, shutting it down.
"Unfortunately it only lasts about 20 seconds at a maximum, but the full 20 seconds will cause it to overheat, and essentially self destruct," noted Sheffler.
Barker shook his head and clicked his tongue. "There's always a drawback, isn't there Sheffler?"
"Don't look at me I didn't make it." Sheffler set the bubble shield back down on the table and turned to the weapons. "Now to pick an offensive piece."
"First we have to decide who needs what weapons," Barker interrupted. "I think we'll need two snipers, the other two as spotters. Carson, Sheffler, you two are my snipers. Grab yourself a rifle. Reyes, you're Carson's spotter, Sheffler, I'm yours. Have enough ammo, but don't weigh yourselves down. This should be a quick run, if all goes well..."
"Which it won't," Reyes chimed in.
Barker rolled his eyes. "And hopefully we won't be killing too many people. After all, most of the population are simple civilians. We're going after the main event, as in Sig's crew. And if we do manage to run out of supplies, the Pelicans can always drop in for another supply run."
Carson walked over to the far corner of the armory that housed a display of sniper rifles. Carson grabbed one with a dull metallic finish and held it in his hands, testing the weight. It wasn't too heavy, weighing in at about 28 pounds he would guess. He ran his finger along the barrel and was satisfied with the finish and thickness of the metal. Carson triggered the magazine release and the 6 shot magazine fell into his waiting hand. He nodded in appreciation. Well, it's awfully helpful for them to have upgraded that mag feed, he thought. Barker noticed Carson admiring the clip.
"I actually had our own engineering crew here on the ship modify those, so essentially they are one of a kind," said Barker proudly.
"Yeah except that there are six of them," smirked Sheffler. He reached up and grabbed one for himself, and after a quick overview and inspection, he decided that it was adequate for his style, also happy with the magazine modification. Carson walked over to Reyes, who was fingering the trigger of an M90 CAWS shotgun. Reyes looked up, briefly made eye contact, then was again absorbed in the M90. Carson grabbed one of the M6G pistols off the rack then walked over to the grenade crate. He slipped the pistol into the holster at the small of his back and leaned his sniper against the wall. Thumbing the two metal clasps that held the crate shut, he lifted the lid and tossed it up, propped against the metal.
