Authors Note; Thanks to everyone that's started reading, I know the first two chapters probably weren't as amazing as they could've been. The next chapter after this, we'll finally have some Covenant action, as well as a little Space combat. This chapter was more of a "setting stage" so that we could get troops on the ground, the Carrier in the sky, and the Covenant in the system. Well, R&R and hope you enjoy!
1400 Hours. September 14th, 2552 (UNSC Military Calendar)
UNSC Carrier Beijing, In orbit above Coral, Rio Sigma System.
The deep blue oceans of Coral were easily visible out of the forward windows as Admiral Freeman admired the small planet. Smaller than Earth, but larger than Mars, the planet wasn't even in need of terraforming when the UNSC discovered it in 2342. Over eighty percent of the planets surface was water, and what was left was all compiled onto a single continent. The small continent, only about three times the size of Earth's China, composed of a mountainous range, as well as lush green valleys leading to the sandy beaches and oceans.
"Sir, docking with Echo Station." Commander Jones called over from his console.
"Thank you for the update, Commander," he called back over.
After they'd escaped Reach, the crew of the Beijing had been refit, but remained the same, the only new additions being additional Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. Curiously enough, the Carrier's precious cargo of a Spartan-II solider, James-005, should've been deposited with HIGHCOM back on Earth. Instead, they were instructed to join Coral's Defense Fleet, and to keep the Spartan on board. However, they did pick up a new ONI attache, who was present on the bridge, hovering in the corner.
Captain Jerome Williams, the ONI Section Three commander, was assigned to the bridge to "observe tactics" utilized by the Admiral. While Freeman knew it was obviously connected to the Spartan that remained on board, he couldn't upright say anything; ONI held more leverage than the entire UNSC when it came to just about anything.
"Admiral! Incoming transmission from Thebes Remote Sensor Outpost! Multiple contacts, coming out of Slipspace near the systems edge!"
Admiral Freeman shook his head, clearing his thoughts on the spook and focusing. "Isolate and scan those targets. Are the targets confirmed Covenant?"
"Sir! Thebes Outpost confirms four Destroyers, three Covenant CCS-Battlecruisers, an Assault Carrier, and a dozen Corvettes! We're gonna have a hell of a fight, Admiral! Also have a Carrier! Jesus, it's behind our lines! Just dropped troops and pulled back into Slipspace, what the..."
As the Commander trailed off, Freeman hung his head low, before that determined look he always got sparked in his eyes. Staring out the bridge, he recognized pinpricks of light in the distance; the incoming Slipspace ruptures. Knowing the sure to be soon outcome, he would put up the best damn fight he could. As these thoughts flew through his mind, the "spook" stepped over to him.
"Admiral. The Covenant are here for a reason. Forerunner structures are on Coral, and they need to be withheld from the Covenant at all cost. Deploy your Marines, ODSTs, and Spartan-005 ground-side."
Freeman glared at the ONI spook for just releasing this information, and trying to order him around on his own ship. Admittedly, though, there wasn't much he could do. The ONI officer, regardless, "outranked" him and had more command authority. Freeman had no choice but to comply.
"Alert the crew, Commander! All members, to battle stations! Have all ODST troops ready for drop, and have those Pelicans ready for dust off! I want Marines prepped and ready in ten! Get Longsword Squadrons Delta-Knife-One and Two into the dark, ASAP, have Delta-Knife-Three arm up with one of our Shivas if things get too heavy."
"Sir, yes, sir!"
"Harrison, what's the status on our MAC gun?"
"Sir!" the officer called over from his station, "MAC gun is at thirty-six percent and charging fast!" Should be ready within sixty seconds!"
"As soon as its charged, you've got control of it, Harrison."
"Of course, sir!"
Turning towards the main panel, the ship's A.I came into view, illuminating above the panel. Nodding his head, feather headdress ruffling, Fenix turned to the Admiral. Freeman looked over the A.I, barely cracking a smile. Having worked with Fenix for six and a half years, the Fourth-Generation A.I was fast-approaching the end of his effective lifespan. For lack of a better word, Freeman and Fenix had become, friends.
"Fenix, get this boat moving in twenty. Once we drop our cargo, we're going into the fight."
"Of course, sir."
Smiling at the A.I, Freeman merely nodded in reply, before taking his seat at the command post.
1420 Hours. September 14th, 2552 (UNSC Military Calendar)
UNSC Carrier Beijing, In orbit above Coral, Rio Sigma System.
Jacob Rawlings grumbled as the loud, alarm klaxons began blaring. "All troops! Battle ready and prepped for drop in ten!" Shaking the last few seconds of sleep away, Rawlings stood at his full six-foot-three-inches, grabbing the standard Orbital Drop Shock Trooper helmet that was tossed carelessly on the ground. Turning to his right, he saw Corporal Mitch Stevens getting armored up.
Stepping out of the makeshift bunk room the ODSTs had on the Carrier, Rawlings quickened his pace to a slight jog, as he rounded the corners to the Armory, which led straight to the SOIEV pods the Shock Troopers used for surface deployments. Slowing his pace slightly, Rawlings took a second to grab a standard S2-AM Sniper Rifle off of the first rack, as well as a BR55-Battle Rifle off the third. Nodding to the Acting Commander of the ODST Batallion, Major Harris, Rawlings spotted the first open pod, and immediately took his place next to it.
Carefully positioning his Sniper Rifle along the left side of the cushioned interior, he tried to cram the BR55 alongside it, before giving up and removing the SMG attached to the other half. Dropping the light, automatic weapon on the ground, he clipped the Battle Rifle in, before backing into the pod and hitting the close button. The pod's main door swung down and he heard a satisfying click as the gears locked. The display to his left flickered on as he opened the TEAMCOM channel.
"Alright, boys. Looks like the big, bad Covies wanna take Coral. According to what I've heard through the grapevine, we've got some Forerunner structure on the planet, which no doubt the bastards want. Well, guess who's not letting them get their dirty fuckin' hands on it?"
"The Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, Sir! Fifty-Third Battalion, Sir!"
"Damn right, boys. Now, while the Marines fly their happy asses down, and our resident freak takes his ride down, we're goin' in how?"
"Feet first, into hell, sir!"
"Exactly. Now, drop is in three minutes, so all of you, hustle your asses to your respective drop pods. I don't give a rats ass which one, but you better be armed and ready! Because we're gonna set up shop and hold that bitch down!"
"Sir, yes, sir!"
1420 Hours. September 14th, 2552 (UNSC Military Calendar)
UNSC Carrier Beijing, In orbit above Coral, Rio Sigma System.
Captain Williams stepped briskly off the bridge as the Admiral started launching orders. The firing solutions and such towards the incoming Covenant task-force wasn't of immediate concern; getting down to the surface was. Opening up a secure COM link, he quickly located the Admiral.
"Admiral, I have important business with your soldiers on the surface. I'll be riding down the first Marine Pelican drop-ship. I need you and the defense fleet here to hold position, and make our job as easy as possible. Is that clear?"
"Crystal, sir," replied the Admiral, bitterness evident in his voice.
Williams couldn't blame him; before he joined Section Three, an entire ship of his was blown nearly to bits protecting an ONI spook during a routine op on a sensor outpost. In the end, however, Williams was shown the importance of things like this, and why a ship, or even a fleet full of men, was worth defending a small object, or a structure.
Quickly reaching the nearest flight bay, Williams watched as twenty or so Marines loaded up onto each Pelican Dropship. Seeing an open seat in the cockpit of the second one, he quickly trotted over, through the row of confused marines. The pilot, a blonde male, turned to him from behind his pilot's gear.
"Ah, you're the resident spook. Well, pleasure to meet ya', welcome to Kilo-Two-Two-Six. We'll be your ride down."
"Just cut the chatter and close the hatch," Williams quickly said to the pilot.
Looking at his FoF tags on his neural implants Heads-up-Display, he brought the man up as Paul Smith. Good flight records, save for a crash with a Shortsword bomber during the Harvest Campaign. Nevertheless, Williams was at least semi-satisfied with his ride down to the surface. As he heard the afterburners launch, Williams pulled on his Recon variant helmet from under his arm, and activated his mission recorder.
"Control, this is Pelican Kilo-Two-Two-Six, we are prepped for take off!" the pilot called over the radio. "Permission to fly and fry some Covies when we hit dirt?"
"Permission granted, Harris. Good hunting."