Disclaimer: I do not own the video game series Halo, or any of the contents of its universe
Disclaimer: I do not own the video game series Halo, or any of the contents of its universe. I only co-own the central characters of this fic.
Part 2: The Op
Several minutes had passed since the ODST's had escaped what was once an outpost, but had become a slaughterhouse. Sergeant Cardell was currently driving the Transport Warthog deeper into the city, the other three survivors watching carefully for signs of enemy contacts. Turning onto Sheridan Avenue, Cardell saw his destination: a field headquarters in a small business building, or what remained of it. He came to a stop near it before exiting the driver's seat.
"Alright, Merven, collect what medical supplies you need. Rowen, head to the armory and grab whatever ammo we need. Grenades too. Corporal Ryerson, collect any rations we're lacking, and refill the canteens. I'm gonna find whoever's in charge and get new orders." Sergeant Cardell ordered. After he and the others handed their canteens to Ryerson, Cardell strode into the HQ, set his Battle Rifle onto his armor's back magnets, and removed his helmet. Stepping up to a radio set, he addressed the ODST working on one of the field computers. "Who's in command here?" he asked.
"That would be me." said a voice from behind the staff sergeant. Turning around, he saw the officer who had spoken.
"Major Austad?" he asked, obviously confused.
"That's right." said Major Torgeir Austad, commanding officer of the 502nd ODST Battalion, 83rd Marines Regiment. He wore the basic armor of an ODST, but his helmet was replaced with the black patrol caps issued to ODST's. "Would you come this way, Staff Sergeant?" he asked. Though obviously shocked by the presence of such a high ranking officer in such an unimportant position, Cardell followed, his helmet tucked under his arm. Major Austad had grown up and lived in the Earth country of Norway, but he spoke with little to no accent of any kind. "So what's the situation?" he asked as he led the noncom to his office in the back of the HQ.
"With all due respect, sir, I already told the techie I contacted over the radio." Cardell replied as he sat at the battered desk across from the officer.
"I know, he informed once he broke contact with you. I just need to hear it myself…Captain Garcia wanted me to be sure that a third of his company was actually dead."
Sergeant Cardell let out a sigh. "Okay," he said. "I'll talk. It started when we lost contact with 3rd Squad's Fire Team Bravo. They'd been sent out on routine patrol, and we just thought that something was up with the comms. When the Brutes attacked, we pretty much figured out they were dead. It was a full scale infantry attack. No vehicles or armor involved, just one Banshee. The El Tee was killed in the first few seconds of the attack. Damn Spiker took his ear off before it hit his head. The squad leaders and I tried to rally the boys, but they were just too fast. I managed to escape with heavy weapons gunner, Private Rowen, our sniper Corporal Ryerson, and our corpsman Merven."
"Need a cigarette?" Major Austad asked as he pulled out his pack, a crumpled package of Marlboros.
"Thank you sir." Cardell said as he accepted the major's cigarette and light. "If you don't mind me asking sir, why are you here? I'd expect a company CO at the most."
"To give you your orders. Special orders, directly from ONI."
Cardell froze at the mention of the Office of Naval Intelligence. "ONI? What the hell do they want?" he asked.
"Don't know," said Major Austad as he blew smoke. Using his cigarette fingers, he pointed down a hall. "But he does." Turning to glance down that hall, Cardell saw a figure that was taller than any human he'd ever seen, save for one. It was unmistakable what that green armored soldier was.
"A Spartan?" Cardell asked in disbelief. "Is that…?"
"No, the Chief's out in space somewhere with the frigate In Amber Clad, or was last we heard. This is one of the new ones, made in response to the number of Spartans gone MIA. Public don't know much about the new line yet, and neither does most of the Corps. This particular specimen is Petty Officer Second Class Steven Delgado-158. And he's got a mission."
"What kind?"
"Don't know. He won't tell, says it's too classified, even for a higher-up like me. The only thing he would tell us is that he needed a platoon of Orbital Drop Shock Troopers for it, and fast."
Understanding dawned in Sergeant Cardell's eyes. "It was my platoon, wasn't it?"
"We tried to raise you on the radio roughly forty-five minutes ago. We thought it was a problem with the connection until you contacted us from your 'hog. No, we don't think it was a set up, the Covenant showed no signs of knowledge of the need for a platoon of soldiers."
Cardell nodded sullenly. "Looks like you'll have to find another one."
"Nope."
"…Sir?"
"Delgado said he would make due with the survivors of the platoon. Apparently, this mission is so important, it can't wait for proper reinforcements. You're going with him on this mission, whatever it is. I personally think it's a suicide mission, but that's what we're trained for."
"What about Razgriz?" asked Cardell, referring to the 502nd's Special Operations Unit. "Aren't they trained for this kinda stuff?"
"All five teams have already been deployed to areas all over the city. Don't have any to spare." Major Austad replied, closing the subject. He then stood, Cardell following suit. "Trust your instincts, a noncom's instincts are his best friend. I also wanna say good luck, Cardell." With that, he held out his hand. Cardell looked at it for a moment before shaking it.
"Thank you, sir." he said. With a salute, Cardell turned, walked down the hall toward the Spartan, and never saw the major again.
"Are you Staff Sergeant Cardell, 1st Platoon Sergeant, B Company?" asked the Spartan as Cardell approached.
"Yeah. You're looking for my platoon I hear." Cardell replied.
"Yes sir. You are needed for a highly classified mission of the utmost importance."
"And what kind of mission would that be?" asked Cardell as he dropped his now small cigarette to the ground and stamped it out.
"A retrieval mission. Several days ago, marines of the 18th Recon Battalion recovered a data disk from a Covenant encampment in the forests of the German/Austrian border. From it, ONI was able to learn of an approaching Covenant vessel, carrying a high ranking Brute Chieftain, thought to be the most tactically brilliant of his kind. His carrier has recently arrived in system, and I am to take your platoon into a boarding action on it. We will then eliminate all enemy resistance, clear the bridge, secure the Brute Chieftain Raisalus, and extract him back to Earth, where he will be interrogated by ONI for information and detained for negotiation purposes. But it seems our force will be a tad…underhanded."
"You got that right." Cardell mumbled. "And you seriously intend to go through with this mission, even though there're only five of us total?"
"Yes sir." Delgado replied. Cardell nodded.
"Okay. But let's get some things straight: I outrank you, so I have command. Secondly, I know for a fact that the only reason ONI wants my men on this Op is to be cannon fodder, but I'm not gonna let that happen. I also know that if something happens to me, you'll end up in command. If that happens, I don't care about your mission, you're number one priority will be to ensure the survival of my men. Am I understood, Petty Officer?"
For a moment, Delgado simply stood there. Then finally, he said "Yes sir. Understood."
"Good," said Sergeant Cardell. "I assume you have all the equipment you'll need, so wait at the landing pad. When my men and I are ready, we'll meet you there, and get started." With that, Cardell turned and headed towards the 'hog, where his men had already regrouped and were waiting.