(2)

It was all on Edgar to make the first move. I couldn't see him—no one could—but once one of the aliens went down, it was on me to move in next to take out the other one. Still, I was tensed and ready to jump the gun if I had to. They were closing in on my position and if they rounded the corner I'd be spotted for sure. I'm just a bomb guy after all, not a sleuth like Edgar. Explosive Ordinance Disposal to be exact.

My particular suit of Mjolnir powered assault armor weighs at least two more tons than any one of my teammates due to my massive chest plate and shoulder padding. Extra protection, should a bomb ever go off whilst I'm trying to defuse it. It also has the distinct red, gray, and black color scheme of the EOD Spartan division, which wasn't too noticeable in the field most cases, but in a mostly violet setting lit by pulsating blue lights, it didn't do much in the way of camouflage.

I risked a quick peek around the corner. I was glad that I did, because a second later I saw one of the two patrolling Elites collapse to the floor. Edgar's active camo wore off and he reappeared on top of Elite with a gleaming katana in both hands. The other Elite, the one still on its feet, whipped around at the sound of the commotion and, knowing he what he would see, I broke from cover and trundled full speed down the hall. My every footfall produced a cannon-like bang on the narrow metal flooring.

Hefting my dense weight as though it were a weapon of it's own, I dove and speared the reptilian creature right in the midsection just as it unholstered a plasma rifle. I heard something like a bone crunch beneath me when we landed and the plasma rifle went skittering out of reach. Almost automatically, I removed the standard issue UNSC combat knife from my shoulder sheath and plunged it deep into his eye socket.

I flicked the blood off my blade and stood, staring down at the alien I'd just killed. He wasn't getting up. Neither was his partner, who had been ceremoniously decapitated. Threats neutralized, I went about my task of rigging the rest of the explosives. I found a blank section of wall to my right and adhered a ten-inch wide block of C-14 moldable plastic to it. As I did so, Edgar contacted the team leader.

"One, Three here. Four is placing the last charge now."

I could hear Norman's brusque response on the COM channel through my helmet's audio feed. Automatic gunfire peppered the background.

"Good. Now hurry up and get back here. We've got a situation out here."

I finished just then and gave Edgar a thumbs up when he told the commander we were on our way back.

Then to me, he said, "C'mon, sounds like trouble."

He wasn't wrong. The closer we got to the hangar, the more the walls and ground shook and rumbled. Trouble was an understatement. Once we got to the end of the hall, a blinking purple door slid open with a mechanical exhale and gave us a preview of what we were in for. If I had any delusional doubts of this being not being some kind of suicide mission, they were dispelled immediately. Nonetheless, we strode confidently through the threshold into the depths of hell, and the mechanical door sealed shut behind us.