Dr Salvia Martinez, ONI attaché, 16:17, August 15th, 2552, City of Manassas
2.5 hours after crash
"Bird? Bird!" She mumbled, shaking the pilot's shoulders weakly. Her harness had not broken as easily as Salvia's had, and the limp body of the pilot hung from the ceiling, well, the floor of the cockpit, but the ceiling of the upside-down version. She struggled to rise from the bank of instruments she'd ended up resting on, and winced as jolts of pain flared in her chest.
She raised a hand and felt Bird's neck for a pulse. Nothing. She stared dumbstruck, too in shock for the airman's death to really register. She crawled into the rear of the cockpit and tried the door controls, which mercifully resulted in the door swooshing open.
A wall of heat met her, scorching her face. She slapped the control panel, coughing as a billowing cloud of acrid smoke entered the cramped space before the door slammed shut again. Coughs continued to force themselves from her throat, leaving her hoarse, blinking tears from her eyes, which stung and reddened in the chemical-tainted smoke.
She shuffled around, eventually contorting herself so she faced out of the Plexiglas view screen, which gave her a fantastic view of the inside of an office building, cubicles and desks as far as she could see. She pounded her fist on the glass to no avail. Of course she couldn't break through, the damn thing was designed to take several hundred small-calibre bullets before it so much as chipped.
She looked around her, searching desperately for some way out of this metal coffin, painfully aware of the rapidly increasing heat within the cabin: it was already approaching sauna-level temperature, and sweat ran down her face, mixing with soot in the air to form a black layer of grime on her face. There was nothing in the cockpit that could help her, no laser cutter or release mechanism, heck at this point she'd settle for a can opener.
She screamed in frustration and desperation, immediately regretting it as she coughed, convulsing violently. Resigned to her fate, she searched the dead pilot for her sidearm, unslinging the bulbous M6 pistol from the holster and cocking it. There was no way that she'd go out burned alive, the quick and painless death she was now choosing for herself seemed much more bearable.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you Doc." Came a voice over her chatter, accompanied by a dull knocking from behind her.
She spun around, readied pistol still in her hand and saw a squad of armoured soldiers in the previously empty office, led by a familiar black-armoured man crouching in front of the view screen.
"Haverson!" She exclaimed, moving over to the glass, coughing and wheezing. "Get me out of here!"
"Simmons, give me that laser, now!" He barked as he turned around to one of the other soldiers, and when he turned back he was clutching a large pen-like object. "Doc, back up and cover your eyes, this is a 20 kilowatt cutter, even indirect observation can blind."
She pushed herself as far back as she could stand in the heat and closed her eyes shut tightly, listening the crackling of the high-power laser cutting the thick composite. 20 seconds later, she heard the device cease its loud efforts and felt a cool breeze caress her cheek. She opened her eyes and crawled forward towards the light, ignoring the heavenly imagery as she clambered over the warm edge of the hole in the view screen and out onto the cool office floor, struggling to rise to her feet, head dizzy with smoke inhalation.
"Easy doc, easy, somebody grab her a chair!" the Lieutenant yelled, and a young Private wheeled over a swivel chair, which she collapsed on to, breathing raggedly, shaking slightly.
It was a good while before she made herself look up, trying to look apologetic for her lack of composure. "I'm no soldier, I'm not good with guns and bullets and aliens."
He shrugged "No one expects you to be Doc, that's why you've got us. You okay? What about the pilot?"
She shook her head "No pulse, I'm fine, I'm good." She got to her feet, breathing slowly and deeply, trying to compose herself.
He nodded "That's a damn shame. If you're good to go Doc, we need to move. Covenant's moving in hard, we were almost run down just getting here." She looked around and saw the other soldiers moving towards the office doorway, rifles up and ready, a couple of them had minor plasma scorching on their battle armour.
He reached out his hand "Give me your sidearm." She complied, and he expertly took the weapon apart and inspected it, grunting approvingly. "This is one fine M6, custom grip, engraved slide, explosive rounds. You certified with the M6D?" He held it out to her.
She nodded, tentatively taking the bulky pistol back and holding it in her hands, getting a feel for the balance of it. "I'm ready when you are. What's the plan?"
He waved for her to follow him, and she did so, walking out of the office room, out into the floor's lobby and into the emergency stairwell. "Right now Doc, my plan is pretty much 'don't get shot, don't let you get shot, get out of the city'. Everything else is up in the air." He informed her as they bolted downstairs behind the heavy footfalls of the Marine squad.
"Hey, I like the plan so far." She muttered, already out of breath as they sprinted down the stairs. Why hadn't she worked out more? I mean, she was no slouch, and she was comfortable with her body's look, but it really helped to have a little bit more stamina.
"I'm going to patch you into the UNSC Comms networks so you can keep in touch if we get separated." He called over his shoulder, and suddenly her ear was buzzing with military signals, and she had to mute the extraneous channels.
They finally made it to the ground floor, bursting out into the lobby of the legal office that owned the building. The soldiers strode purposefully towards the large glass doors, cocking weapons and slipping into silence. It was only now that she heard the orchestra of war; nearby, all around them, the rattle and cracks of small arms fire echoed around the empty streets, further away, every once in a while she would hear the thunderous roar of something much heavier, or the high-pitched screams of aircraft, both those which she recognised as jet engines and the softer more menacing whining of impulse drives.
"Recon Six Niner, this is Kilo 22, what's the situation of East 13th Street, around the Derico Legal offices?" The burly sergeant inquired over the radio.
There was a moment's pause, then a heavily accented voice came through "Kilo 22, I'm seeing a high enemy presence in that area, nearest friendly zone is 10th street, roughly 800 metres south. I spot about two dozen infantry, no mechanicals, but there's a couple of gators ordering the little guys about, could be trouble. Over."
The Sergeant swore loudly, shouldering his Assault rifle before responding. "Copy that Recon Six Niner."
Haverson took over "Overlord, any assets that can give us Close Air Support as we re-join with friendly forces? Enemy lines have moved forward past us."
"Affirmative Kilo 22, I've got a Hornet in the AO, call sign Sierra 250, re-routing to provide CAS. Warning, he can't stay for long, enemy air presence is too strong in that sector. Acknowledge."
"Acknowledged Overlord, Kilo 22 out." He responded, motioning the team to exit the building. She followed closely, trying to keep as low as possible as they jogged down the stairs from the doors to street level along a wall. When they got to the end of it, Haverson held his fist up above his shoulder, peeking his head around the obsidian monolith.
"Two Elites, about 20 grunts, going door to door." He mumbled, withdrawing behind cover. "They're focussing on the other side of the street for now." He turned to the Marines "I'm going to signal CAS to open fire as you toss some frags over there. Divide them with the grenades, conquer with the Hornet." He showed no sign of the lethargy and exhaustion he'd shown earlier in Tolna Tower.
They nodded eagerly, resting their rifles against the wall and priming grenades. Haverson nodded and waved them out from behind the wall. She moved up next to him, craning her neck to try and see live Covenant for the first time, but before she could glimpse the genocidal conglomerate, Haverson pushed her back, shaking his head and talking into his microphone.
"Hornet's on the way" He said quietly, counting down with his fingers. On one, all five of them tossed their devices, immediately taking cover behind the bus stop outside the building. As they threw themselves to the ground, the whine of engines that had been steadily rising in volume suddenly reached a crescendo, and the roar of the AV-14 Hornet VTOL deafened her as it soared over an office building and opened up on the unsuspecting group of aliens.
The cluster of grenades detonated before the hornet's rounds could strike, flaring the two elites' shield and knocking them and their grunt subordinates to the floor. She couldn't quite see how many grunts the grenades had killed, Haverson was still holding her back. All she could hear was the thunderous booming of missile detonation couples with the sickly thwacks of 30mm shells tearing through flesh. After about 20 seconds, the din halted, and Haverson peeked around the corner.
"That's a lot of dead covenant" He whistled, before switching to Comms "Good effect on target Sierra 250, much obliged."
"Copy that Kilo 22, Sierra 250 RTB." Came the pilot's voice, and the vehicle tilted its engines and powered away.
"Move out, we got somewhere to be!" The sergeant yelled, and the group moved away from the building along the street, past the body parts and bright blue blood where the alien squad had been moments before. She gagged on the nauseating mixture of smells, the charred alien flesh, the whiff of explosive residue hanging in the air and the acrid smell of melted tarmac were among just a few of them.
She was hastily bundled along down the business districts high building-sided streets, and behind the desperate sounds of her ragged breath, the clinking of the Marines' equipment and the stamping of their boots on the sidewalk, she could hear the sounds of the city falling. In the background there was the faded blaring of the city's evacuation alarm from a couple of streets over combined with distant heavy artillery bombardment, sounding like the almighty beating of a colossal drum. Much closer by came the harsh sounds of intense gunfire, a sound which she noted that they were headed directly towards.
"Stack up!" The Sergeant half whispered half shouted, and the group threw themselves up against the tyres of a huge tanker truck.
"Recon Six Niner, this is Kilo 22, what's the situation with the street in front of us, over?" Haverson asked
"From up here, looks like friendly forces are to your right, enemy to your left, your intersection is right in the middle of no man's land. Friendly call-sign is Tango 9"
"Copy that." Haverson looked irritated as he turned to the rest of them. "This is a problem. I was hoping that we could re-join friendly lines with no problem, but looks like we're going to have to shoot our way in."
She gulped hard, tightening her hold on her sidearm until her knuckles turned white. She was already miles out of her depth, she'd never even shot at anything but a paper target before, how the hell could she survive this?
"Tango 9, this is Kilo 22, do you read?"
Nothing, for a couple of seconds, then came the thunderous roar of a high-calibre gun discharging, propelling the payload past them towards the enemies to their left. A dull detonation followed the screaming of the shell, and judging from the size of it, she guessed that it had to belong to one of the UNSC's many MBTs or heavily armed APCs. Most likely a Scorpion MBT, just because the sheer quantity produced and fielded.
"We read you Kilo 22, what can we do for you?"
"We're just south of the intersection of 15th and Main street, behind a Traxus oil tanker, we've got a tier 1 asset and need to get behind friendly lines, requesting suppressive fire on enemy positions until we can join you, over." Haverson rattled off, peeking his head around one side of the truck's fender to get a good view of the enemy.
The response came through almost immediately. "Roger that, we've got readings on your IFF tags, starting suppressive fire."
Instantly the volume of gunfire increased tenfold, accompanied by the chattering of an HMG. The Marines all jumped up and started sprinting around the truck towards the right, and she had only just gotten to her feet when Haverson grabbed her arm and pulled her after them.
She shook him off of her and ran away from the truck, slipping onto the sidewalk of the main street through Manassas. She remembered fondly her first day on leave here, looking through all the shops, planning her meals in the high-end restaurants lining the road, but now most of those establishments lay in ruin, and glass fronting shattered, stone facades ruined, nothing but rubble. A couple of the high stone buildings had massive craters in their sides, and rubble littered the streets in between the maze of abandoned cars and trucks.
About a hundred metres distant, she saw their goal, a row of sandbags and carefully placed cars shielding friendly forces, which consisted of at least two dozen grey-fatigued soldiers firing past them, as well as the flat angular turret of a Scorpion poking above a sandbag wall, using its coaxial machine gun to great effect. The 90mm gun swung around and belched another shell, eliciting jolts of searing pain from her inner ear. Her hearing dulled, replacing all but the most bass heavy sounds with a head-splitting ringing. She gasped in pain but kept running, her step faltering for a brief second as she dragged her eyes up and saw the flashes of light as the Marines on the barricade continued firing, their gunshots now dull thuds.
As she ran towards the gap in the defensive line, she risked craning her head around for a view of the suppressed enemies; the battleground behind them was covered in craters from explosive weapons and huge black scorch marks from plasma weaponry, about 300 metres behind them she spotted several of the Grunt-type aliens cowering behind a car, only the tips of their methane tanks visible, quivering in fear. One of their tanks was punctured by a lucky rifle round, and it detonated, sending a flare of blue flame up from behind the vehicle and showering the nearby are with both his and his comrades' entrails.
Haverson yelled something over his shoulder, but his voice was lost on her damaged ears
She followed suit, tearing her eyes away from the enemies behind to focus on the allies in front. There was a tiny gap in the line between the end of the sandbags and the stone wall of the bank next to it, just wide enough to fit her. She forced herself in the gap and was quickly pulled behind the line by Haverson.
She sat down heavily, panting and wheezing, her vision tunnelling slightly. Haverson leaned over her, yelling something and waving over an Army Medic, who looked closely into her eyes and ears, conferring with Haverson and presumably telling him that she couldn't hear them. Haverson nodded slowly, looking at her with pity and grabbed a data-pad from the Medic, typing out a message and showing her.
Are you okay?
She just nodded, her throat too sore for words. He seemed satisfied, and waved the Medic away, touching his earpiece and talking rapidly. He held up the tablet again after his brief conversation had concluded.
Vehicle on its way, hang tight.
She nodded again and struggled to her feet, using him for balance. He looked concerned, but she patted his arm and mouthed I'll be fine. He gave her a thumbs up and walked away towards an Army Lieutenant hanging around near the barricade. While they exchanged salutes and shook hands, she wandered over towards the Scorpion tank, the ringing in her ears subsiding somewhat.
The Medic came over to her holding two tiny beads of foam in one hand, offering them to her. "Here you go ma'am, should keep your ears in one piece." His voice was distorted, but audible, and she graciously took the adaptive earplugs from him, smiling in thanks as he shouldered his rifle, an old MA37, and walked back to the line, where the shooting had died down a little.
She pushed the earplugs into her ear canals, where they automatically expanded to fit their shape. She was familiar with the design, she'd used many like it aboard the Hephaestus to protect her hearing from the barrage of shipbuilding tools that were in action pretty much 24/7. The smart foam would detect any sounds above the safe limit of 85 decibels and change conformation to block the sounds, but would relax when sound level were normal. This ensured the best combination of hearing protection and situational awareness during downtime.
She turned her attention to the back of the tank, where copious amount of grey smoke/steam was rising from the open engine cover. A mechanic was leaned over the open compartment, fiddling with wires and tubes, swearing loudly. She checked out the profile of the vehicle, taking in the stripped down tread covers and bulked up turret armour. It was a 5th generation M808B Scorpion, and she knew enough about the machine to fix it.
"Soldier, what's the matter?" She asked as she approached, rolling up the sleeves of her ONI uniform.
"I don't know ma'am, she just up and died on me, no engine power at all." The mechanic threw his arms up in the air exhaustedly.
"She been serviced recently?" She asked, a nugget of information she'd overheard in the officers' mess on the Hephaestus coming to the forefront of her mind. "How's the oil pressure been lately?"
"What with the end of the world, we haven't had much time for a service." The mechanic answered. "And the pressure's been shit for days, why?" He looked puzzled, and wiped his face with his hand leaving a black grease mark on his cheek.
"The M808B-5 is about to have a low profile recall/mass-service issued. Some researcher on Mars has proved that after a few hundred hours of use, one of the primary coolant lines shakes itself loose from its housing, have a look at it and use some duct tape to secure it, I guarantee this beast will be running like a dream in no time." She informed, slapping the man's back and walking over to Haverson, who was subtly beckoning her over.
"Thanks, I hope." The soldier muttered, reaching for his tool kit as she walked over to the Lieutenant.
Haverson looked like someone had just told him his mother had died, his hands were balled up into fists, his gaze downturned, and his face ghostly white.
"What's wrong?" She asked tentatively
"You know that flash in the sky before your bird went down? That was a CSO-class supercarrier being destroyed by a team of Spartans. Its escort is mostly engaged in ground operations across the continent, and one of them, an SDV-class corvette is inbound on this location. ETA 30 minutes." He said, shaking his head sadly.
"Shit." She muttered, not really grasping the importance of this revelation "What does this mean?"
"It means, Doc, that your extraction just became a hell of a lot harder, speaking of which." He trailed off as the sound of a throaty engine loudened. He jogged over towards the Army Lieutenant and shook his hand, thanking him.
As he did so, the engine noise tripled as an M12 Warthog rounded the corner and came to a halt in front of her. The Marine Corporal in the driving seat bundled out and saluted her smartly, automatically respecting the ONI uniform.
"At ease Marine, the Lieutenant is over there." She said, smiling as Haverson moved over next to her, exchanging salutes with the young Marine.
"Corporal" He nodded. "Did you bring the body armour?"
"Yes sir, I've got a full set in the passenger seat. Ma'am, right this way, I'll get you suited up in no time." The Marine beckoned her forward, and she followed him around the front grill and vicious-looking tusks of the Hog. He leaned into the passenger seat and pulled a black version of the Marine BDU out, draping it over her neck and quickly fastening all the straps before handing her a black Helmet, which she gingerly forced down over her ears, flicking down the integrated visor which covered her eyes and provided a basic HUD.
She was instantly overloaded by the array of information thrown up all over her HUD, and quickly stripped it down to only the ammunition counter for her sidearm, which had automatically linked with the helmet systems, and the radio channel display.
She helped the Corporal affix the last components of the BDU, the leg armour and boot covers, which seemed ridiculously unnecessary to cover her simple leather work shoes. When the Corporal finished tightening the straps and activating the Nano-fibre assemblies in her ONI uniform which adhered to the armour plating, she looked similar to the Lieutenant, clad in protective black armour.
"Do a little twirl for me Doc." Haverson smirked, hauling himself into the driver's seat of the vehicle and starting the engine with a meaty rumble.
"Bite me." She muttered in response, walking around a little to get a feel for the mobility of the heavy armour, rolling her shoulders and stretching her limbs. She climbed aboard the Warthog, struggling initially to scale the jeep's 36-inch ride height, but after a couple of attempts she managed, slinking into the passenger seat.
"Corporal, man the 50." Haverson instructed the marine, who expertly vaulted onto the vehicles rear end, seizing the controls of the triple-barrelled M41 Light Anti-Aircraft-Gun and traversing around to scan the air around them.
"All right then, hold on to something Doc, these things aren't built for comfort." Elias warned, shifting into 1st gear and pressing the accelerator to the floor.
Her entire body was forced into the seat as the M12's fuel cell split water into hydrogen and used the flammable gas to go from 0-60 in no time at all. They sped down street after street through the debris and destruction of war, many buildings were pockmarked with plasma scorches, and every now and then a flight of banshee fliers would duck underneath the level of the skyscrapers to fire into the streets below at the thousands of UNSC troops preparing defensive positions.
They skidded to a halt in front of a column of slow-moving Scorpion tanks heading towards the front line, their moaning engines adding to the sounds of fervent activity. She'd never seen so much military in one location, but there they were; a column of at least a hundred and fifty UNSC Marines, a whole Company, all of whom were heavily armed, jogging in formation alongside the tanks down the sidewalk, chanting the UNSC Marine cadence in a call-response fashion, the Sergeants of each Platoon yelling out first followed by the bulk of the Marines in response.
"Helljumper, Helljumper where you been?
Feet first into hell and back again!
When I die please bury me deep!
Place an MA5 down by my feet
Don't cry for me, don't shed no tear!..."
They trailed off into the distance, their voices echoing around the deserted streets, sounding oddly lonely, shouting against the darkness closing in. The tanks lumbered along, spreading out and moving in pairs down each street towards the enemy lines. Mingled among the military were black-suited ODSTs arranged in teams of four, each team walked over to the temporary command centre, which was in reality a glorified tent.
Haverson drummed his hands on the steering wheel, waiting for the group of Warthogs to pass the other way before they could pass them. "I wasn't expecting this much of a response, but we need to get around this traffic, and out of the city. Air extraction may be off limit for now, but we need to get to a safer location, before-"
Suddenly, all eyes turned skyward, and a ripple of panic spread throughout the congregation of soldiers. Haverson swore loudly and put his foot down, mounting the sidewalk to avoid the column of now frozen vehicles. Before she could turn her head to see what everyone else was staring at, he accelerated further, forcing her back.
"What's going on?" She asked.
He didn't answer her, but yelled at their gunner "Corporal, I need you to scan the skies, keep an eye on that mother fu-"
"Haverson!" She interrupted, grabbing his arm "What the hell is going on?"
"Take a look Doc!" He yelled back, not looking away from the road ahead, swerving violently to avoid an overturned garbage can.
She twisted her body around in the seat, leaning over to peer around the Corporal on the turret. At first she couldn't spot what everyone was so worked up about, all she noticed were a couple of banshee fliers at high altitude circling lazily high above the city., but as they sped down the street, the menacing shape of a covenant SDV-class heavy corvette slunk into view above a skyscraper.
"Shit." She muttered as the warship dropped low to just above the tallest buildings. Where were the AAA defences? Her question was answered a moment later when a dozen propellant trails snaked towards the alien invader, only to be shot down by the pulsating laser defences which sprung out from the ship's lateral batteries. Lances of light darted through the air and detonated the missiles' high explosive payload.
Of course, from this distance, all she could really see were twelve tiny puffs of smoke as the missiles were neutralised. The corvette proceeded to swoop through the air, banking hard towards the source of the aggression, its plasma batteries glowing a dull blue against its bright red hull. Teardrop shaped missiles of superheated plasma, now bright white, arced down from the ship and disappeared behind a building, although she shuddered to think what devastation they caused to the missile battery.
"Lieutenant! Banshees, 5 o'clock, fast and low!" The Corporal yelled over the noise of the engine and the roar of the wind. She watched, transfixed as the Marine swivelled the turret to face the three purple Banshee fighters heads straight for them over a municipal park area, their impulse drives' ghostly wails rising in volume as the neared.
The gunner thumbed the controls for the M41 and the triple-barrelled weapon spooled up quickly and began firing. The .50 calibre rounds spewed from the Gatling gun at an alarming rate, and once her earbuds had rapidly adjusted to the din, it sounded more like a million pieces of cloth being ripped at once than traditional gunfire. Bullet casings cascaded down into the turret bay and onto her shoulders.
She craned her neck to try and observe the effects of this devastating barrage of lead; initially the fliers seemed to shrug off the punishment, ducking and weaving to try and throw the Corporal's aim off, but after a few seconds the lead aircraft twitched and shuddered as the Armour Piercing rounds gutted it. Its engines sputtered and failed, and it fell from the sky, crashing onto the street behind them and detonating in a blue fireball.
"That's more like it Corporal! Give 'em hell!" Haverson whooped from the steering wheel as he jerked the hog to the left down a side street.
As he did so, the remaining two pursuant craft came within weapons range, and their twin plasma canons opened up, strafing the area around the Hog with blue bolts of superheated plasma. One bolt splashed across the hood of the vehicle, blistering and melting the titanium armour plating, sending a cloud of vaporised metal and composite over the M12, thankfully avoiding the soft flesh of its occupants.
Haverson began to swerve heavily from left to right, dodging the sprays of plasma and avoiding collisions with the abandoned cars and once they almost collided with the massive frame of one of the city's Elephant automated Garbage trucks. The ONI officer swore again and shifted up a gear, eliciting a crunching noise from the gearbox, which she assumed must have been damaged by the Banshee's fire.
"Shit shit shit." He cursed, barely audible over the din of the machine gun. "Corporal, I'm going to need those Banshees down sooner rather than later!"
There was no response, but the gun continued its chorus of brass and lead, the clinking of fallen shell casings sounding like metal rain.
"Corporal?!" Haverson yelled, and she turned around in her seat to try and tap his leg or something to grab his attention.
The Corporal was dead. He had evidently been hit by a plasma bolt, which had easily eaten away the layers of armour strapped to his chest and melted the flesh all the way through to bone and out the other side. In his last few moments he must have slumped forward onto the gun, because it was now pointed straight up, firing on full auto in the dead man's hands.
"Gunner's dead!" She yelled at Haverson, feeling sick to her stomach as she yanked hard at the body's leg, dragging the man's body off of the gun and over the side of the jeep. She didn't look at where he fell, but made a mental note to find out that Marine's name. Someone had to remember the sacrifice he'd made, so it might as well be her.
"God damn it, alright Doc, tell me where those bastards are." The Lieutenant ordered, gripping the steering wheel tightly and gritting his teeth.
She scanned the sky and quickly spotted the remaining Banshee; the other had evidently bugged out, but the last one had them in its sights, swooping down from on high. Oddly enough, it wasn't firing its plasma canons, and yet it was well within weapons range.
"It's at 6 o'clock, low, but it's not firing!" She reported, unholstering her M6D and pointing it squarely at the looming fighter.
"Wait, what? Oh, oh shit, hold onto something Doc, we're in for a world of hurt if I don't get us out of here!"
"What do you…?" She began to ask, but she was cut off by the appearance of a green glow emanating from the front of the Banshee.
The Fuel Rod canon discharged, and the massive bolt of radioactive energy sped towards them. Time slowed down, there was not a second to waste telling the Lieutenant, and she had to act. She whipped her body around to face forward and leaned over, forcibly jerking the steering wheel hard left just as the energy round hit the exact spot where the M12 would have been had she not acted.
The round detonated, scorching one side of her face with intense heat and throwing her bodily sideways in the vehicle, which itself was tipped onto its side and thrown across the road, hitting a couple of cars before coming to rest. During this episode her head was whipped around, bashing against the titanium skeleton divider between the driver and passenger's seats.
Her vision darkened as the now too familiar feeling of being knocked out flooded through her, her limbs going limp, all the muscles in her body relaxing as she lost consciousness. It was only thanks to this limpness that she wasn't injured more, but even still she felt a sickening pop as her shoulder dislocated and an equally nauseating crack as her elbow dislocated as well.
Fighting the pain and the impending blackness, she realised that the Hog had come to a stop and as she craned her neck around to check in on Haverson, she noted with a sigh of relief that he was relatively unhurt, but equally unconscious as she was soon to be. She coughed and immediately winced at the jolts of pain spasming through her.
There she lay for a couple of minutes, waiting for the inevitable dark, but before she could slip into sweet sleep, she felt gloved hands gently lift her out of the passenger seat and onto the pavement. She willed herself to open her eyes, her hearing now muted as blood pooled to the essential organs, and saw herself reflected in an angular silver/blue visor.
Her imagination conjured up fantasies of armoured knights as she slipped into unconsciousness, letting the darkness engulf her finally.
Chief Petty Officer Jacob-209, August 16th 2552, 12:41 Zulu Time, MPD Head Quarter, City of Manassas
"Hold up, contacts, dead ahead." Sara whispered over TEAMCOM, flashing her status light to amber. "I spot three, in the lobby, two IFF tags and a civilian Chatter transponder."
Sara, ever the eagle-eyed sniper, had opted to take the high ground for their rendezvous with Dr Martinez and was currently camped out on top of the residential block across the street looking through the scope of her rifle's thermal scope. He and Sabina were just off the street waiting for the all clear, crouched in the shadows of a back alley that ran alongside the Manassas Police Head Quarters.
"Copy that, any sign of Covenant activity?" He asked. It wasn't as if he didn't trust the Doctor, but if the Covenant were half as smart as them they could have figured out the code in Martinez' last transmission, and therefore could be waiting to pounce on not just a tier 1 ONI asset, but three Spartans, or as they called them, "Demons".
"Negative, closest Covvies I see are a few blocks away, we should be clear for now." Sara responded, and he knew through years of working closely beside her that she would instantly alert them if anything changed.
"Alright, let me know if anything changes, we're going in." He said, checking for the hundredth time to ensure his MA5C had a full magazine and the safety was off. He turned his head to look at Sabina, who nodded almost imperceptibly.
He stretched his legs and stood to his full height, keeping his rifle levelled but not aimed at anything in particular, and walked slowly down the dank and decrepit alleyway and out onto the street. As they approached the revolving doors to the Manassas Police Department HQ he activated his IFF tag, which would hopefully warn the others of the Spartans' arrival and prevent them from shooting on sight. Through the glass frontage of the building he could clearly see the three people standing in a loose triangle, apparently deep in conversation in the middle of the marbled lobby.
When the two Spartans started using the automatic revolving doors, one of the figures, a heavily armoured Orbital Drop Shock Trooper, turned around quickly, aiming their M7S SMG squarely at the pair. The other two were slower to react, and Jake took note of the shorter soldier's inexperience with the sidearm they raised, fumbling with the holster for a brief moment before half raising the M6 model pistol. The third man didn't even try to draw his weapon, just turned his head slightly at the two Spartans.
The ODST quickly lowered the weapon, and the un-helmeted man in black armour waved them over. As they walked quickly over, his expert eyes took in details about the trio; the middle figure, who he surmised must be the Doctor, had her left arm in a sling, and seemed ill at ease in the ONI issue BDU, the un-helmeted man on the left, whose IFF tag identified him as one Lieutenant Elias Haverson, carried with him the air of an ONI spook, ice cool and relaxed. The ODST's tag named him as Lance Corporal Adam Kovic, and appeared as any of the Helljumpers did behind the silver-reflective visor, impossible to read. He suddenly felt sympathy for other members of the forces when they met Spartans in the field, if this ODST was an enigma to him, he couldn't imagine how unnerving his demeanour could be.
"Spartans" Haverson greeted, initiating the exchange of salutes. "Still in one piece after your little demolition experience?"
"Yes sir, all present and accounted for." He turned to the ONI attaché and nodded in greeting. "Ma'am, Admiral Walker sends his regards."
She snorted "No doubt, what's the plan?" She looked up at him expectantly, holstering her weapon and adjusting her sling slightly.
"Jake, we got Covenant patrols inbound, ETA 4 minutes, we've got to get out of here or take them out." Sara's voice came over his comms, and Sabina's acknowledgement light flashed green in response. He activated his own light and looked down at the Asset.
"There's a covenant patrol incoming, we're leaving, now." He looked up at the two men either side of her. "Afraid we'll have to skip the pleasantries gentlemen, I've been given Operational Command of any and all UNSC forces within the city limits by the Admiral, just so we're clear."
The ODST and the Spook nodded in unison, the former shouldering his M7S silenced SMG and the latter checking the slide of his sidearm as Jake led the group towards the revolving doors to get back out onto the street. Sabina took up the rear guard, her M90 readied, the only external sign of her alertness, but behind the mirrored visor he knew that she would be constantly scanning rooftops, shadowy alleyways and supposedly empty buildings, all while keeping her eye on the plethora of sensors splashed across her HUD. The end result of this hyper-alertness was that even if so much as a rat two blocks away moved from one room to another, Sabina would know in an instant.
"Your meta data accompanying your transmission earlier indicated a three-man fire-team, don't tell me one of you got lost?" Salvia quipped as they moved through the revolving doors one at a time, stepping through slightly awkwardly so as to protect her injured shoulder.
He furrowed his brow, turning around and looking at the surprisingly resourceful civilian "How did you access encrypted UNSC meta-data?" No one, save for trained and authorised military intelligence technicians, could normally access the encoded information.
She smiled crookedly, evidently happy to know something the Spartan didn't. "I have my ways, helpful in a situation like this, wouldn't you agree?"
He grunted. He'd done enough civilian rescue operations to know her angle; she wanted to prove herself useful to the group, not just dead weight. A similar situation had occurred in a rescue op on Jericho VII, some gun club nut who wasn't as good a shot as he thought he was, almost got them all killed on numerous occasions. In this case however, listening in to communications could prove to be very useful.
"In answer to your question, Doctor, Spartans don't get lost."
The pavement next to the Doctor cracked as Sara jumped out of the third storey window and landed about two metres away from the surprised civvie. Sara straightened up, wielding her M7, her Sniper Rifle firmly attached to her back, and walked lazily over towards a shocked Martinez.
Kovic lowered his own weapon, having instinctively pointed it at the potential threat, and shook his head. "You Spartans always gotta make an entrance, huh?"
"Says the guy who literally drops from space into battle?" Sara retorted "Yeah, real subtle"
Kovic shrugged "Point taken"
Jake added the two military communicators and the civilian Chatter device onto the TEAMCOM network. "Try not to use the radios, we've already seen that too much use attracts all sorts of trouble."
The others nodded, and Sara stepped forward, jerking her thumb backwards down the abandoned street. "Covenant patrol, 5 Elites, 6 times that many Grunts, plus they've got Skirmishers on overwatch, about a click East, moving towards us."
"Skirmishers are trouble." Jake muttered, waving for the group to follow him as he started jogging down the street in the opposite direction, which they did, Sabina falling into place at the back of them, Sara moving alongside him at the front.
"Sorry, what exactly are Skirmishers for those of us who haven't had a whole lifetime of shooting them in the face?" gasped Salvia in between winces; her shoulder was making it hard for her to keep up with them.
"A sub species of Jackal, feathered, about twice as large and twice as aggressive. Hard to hit, they're agile to boot." Kovic informed her.
"Great" She said, voice dripping with sarcasm as the group turned a corner onto a narrow apartment-lined street. "Where the hell are we going?"
"Nakatomi Plaza, friendly forces" Sara stated brusquely
"We've been in contact with some guys at Nakatomi Plaza." Haverson piped up "There were about 20 of them when we last spoke, they were going to send a team to come get us, but then we figured out that the covenant was using long-range radio broadcasts to hone in on us, so we told them to stay put and cut off all comms, that was about 4 hours ago."
They lapsed into silence for the next couple of hours, darting down streets, alleys and avenues, keeping to the shadows cast by the mid-evening sun and avoiding dozens of Covenant Patrols scouring the streets for them. And although they couldn't take the direct route due to the surveillance and patrolling enemies, their meandering path headed in the general direction of the residential Nakatomi Plaza. As they moved onwards, the buildings surrounding them changed from the low-rise office buildings, banks and shops of the district from which they had come to taller residential buildings, made to resemble old Earth city apartment blocks, with ornate staircases leading off of the sidewalk up to the main front doors. The restaurants they had previously passed now were cafes and fast food places, catering to the needs of the middle and lower classes.
All the while, the haunting figure of the Covenant Corvette hung above the skyscrapers of the business district across the river, slowly prowling around the area, accompanied by a swarm of phantoms and spirits as a shark is followed by remoras. The sight deeply disturbed him, he wasn't used to being this close to an enemy ship and not taking some course of action against it. Normally the ship would be the highest priority target, not some civilian smartass with a broken arm.
As the bright disc of Epsilon Eridani sunk low in the sky, they were a mere four city blocks away from their destination, and could see the towering apartment block rising at least three times as tall as its neighbours, the bright red logo of the Nakatomi Corporation emblazoned on the side. Apparently, according to Haverson, who insisted on filling the silence with useless trivia, the building was intended to house workers employed by the Corporation, but had laid empty for a decade when the company went bust.
"Sara, try hailing them with the short-wave." He said from his position behind a moving van. The group had spread out slightly as they got more comfortable with movement, reducing the effect of potential aggression as well. Right now, Martinez, Haverson and Sabina were crouched in the shadow of a city bus 15 metres behind him, Sara was on the other side of the street taking cover behind a scooter, and Kovic was with him, pressed up against the rear of a truck, sneaking peeks out to check rooftops occasionally.
A few seconds passed, then Sara said "Nothing, just static."
"Figures" He mumbled, then signalled the group to move forward, darting from cover to cover.
"How do we know that they're even still alive?" Haverson asked from the back, sounding like he didn't want to believe it.
"We don't" Sabina responded. It was the first time the Spartan had spoken since the rendezvous at the Police Head Quarters, and she was doing a remarkably good job of sounding as sinister as possible. He couldn't tell if she was uneasy with their new colleagues, or she was just messing around with them.
"That's… cheerful" Kovic muttered.
"Inbound! Flight of Phantoms, count three birds in the air, heading towards the Plaza!" Sara called out, and sure enough, three pearlescent purple teardrops swooped towards them from the Business District, the faint whine of their impulse drives loudening.
Jake swung his view over and upwards towards the upper floors of the Plaza, expecting some sort of defensive fire; nothing came, ore evidence that the defenders had been wiped out. Something didn't add up though; if the Covenant knew that there were UNSC forces in the area, why didn't the corvette just vaporise the whole building with its pulse lasers?
His answer was immediate and brutal; from the roof of the building, hidden beyond the lip of the edge, came trails of fire and thick smoke as 6 projectiles arced through the air, covering the roughly 2 kilometre gap between the launcher and the incoming Phantoms in three seconds. The Covenant dropships didn't stand a chance, despite their last-second evasive manoeuvres, the missiles detonated in fiery blue blossoms of light, ripping the curved hulls of the alien dropships apart and sending them tumbling down to the ground, spewing pale blue smoke and bright blue plasma coolant. The three former dropships careened into a public park a click away, throwing up a terrific pulse of blue-tinged smoke into the air. The conflict was over so quickly that the sound of the engagement only reached them a couple of seconds afterwards, the whoosh of the launch and booms of their deadly payloads' explosions echoing around the deserted cityscape.
They all looked around, dumbfounded for a few seconds, and then Sara whispered "Well, I guess they're still home."
"Fireteam Resistance to Sierra two-zero-niner, we see you down there, couldn't let the covvies know we were here before we took them down" Came a heavily Hungarian accented female voice over the short-wave, sounding exhausted "But I think the time for subtlety is over, we'll cover you with snipers until you can get to the Plaza, over."
"Copy that Fireteam Resistance, we'll be with you shortly." Jake acknowledged, shaking his head before switching to TEAMCOM "Crazy bastards"
"I know that voice…" Kovic began to say, but he was cut off by the same female voice over the radio, with a sudden spike of urgency in her tones;
"Sierra 209, enemy air units inbound on your position, they must be tracking the short-wave radio now! Triple-A emplacement is reloading, we can't cover you! They must've known where you are and sent the Phantoms to draw our fire!"
"Sara?" He barked, his heart suddenly racing "Where are they?"
"I have no idea, they must be flying underneath the skyline, and my long-range sensors aren't picking them up!" She sounded panicked, and that scared him more than anything else.
"Okay, everybody get into the buildings, we need to take cover!" Jake ordered, dragging Kovic out of cover and sprinting to the nearest structure, a grocery store with smashed in windows next to them. He glanced around at the Doctor, happy to see Sabina pulling her and Haverson towards the building on the other side of the street, an elementary school.
"Too late, Lich!" Sara's voice came over the comms, and suddenly the looming form of a Lich-class heavy assault craft thundered into view, skidding to a halt above the street a block down, the purple scintillating light of the gravity lift springing into life below it. The plasma turrets at the bow of the hulking aircraft opened up, splashing white hot ionised liquid over the streets, forcing them into cover.
"Get into cover now!" He ordered, practically throwing Kovic into the store and turning to fire on the file of covenant troops being deployed, most by the gravity lift, but some simply jumped out of the Lich's open troop bay, using jet packs to slow their fall. Grunts, Elites and Jackals sprang into action, firing bolts of energy, plasma and needle fire at them. Most of the enemy combatants took cover behind human vehicles, and as the adrenaline kicked in, Jake took half a second to make sense of the chaos let loose in the last three seconds.
About 100 metres away down the street, the bulk of the enemy were camped behind cars, firing increasingly accurately at the divided group; he and Kovic were on the South side of the street, the Marine struggling to get to his feet within the grocery store, preparing to take a firing position in the window. He was crouched outside the store's window, looking across the street to Haverson, Sabina and the Doc; they were pinned down by the bulk of the enemy fire, stuck behind a newsstand that wasn't going to take many more plasma shots before it melted completely. Sabina was forcing Martinez as low as possible, and had swapped to her MA5B to lay down what suppressive fire she could against the onslaught. Haverson was, to his credit, also squeezing off a few rounds with his M6G towards the enemy. He was wondering where Sara has disappeared to, but the sharp crack of a Sniper rifle from his 5 o'clock and the wet thwack and accompanying scream from the enemy lines answered that question.
His objective became clear; lay down suppressive fire so that Martinez's lot could escape into the school on the North side of the street. He turned to Kovic and yelled "Suppressive fire!", then swivelled on the spot, raised his assault rifle and let rip. The familiar feeling of recoil calmed him down, and he coolly took down target after target, swapping magazines with a polished efficiency. The suppressed staccato of the ODST's M7S added to the din, and the steady crack of the Sara's sniper acted at the drumbeat to this cacophony of war.
Jake spotted several enemies go down without their direct intervention, and the echoing shots of several other sniper rifles confirmed his suspicions that Fireteam Resistance had added their firepower to the engagement.
"Sabina, how's it looking over there?" He asked while slotting his third magazine into place, pulling back the charging handle to cycle the first round into the chamber. "Can you move the asset?"
"Negative, fire's too heavy, popping smoke!" She said, and he saw out of the corner of his eye the swinging motion of her arm as she tossed a smoke grenade perfectly into place midway between them and their attackers, right in the middle of the street.
He tried to move over to her, but heavy plasma fire cut through the billowing smoke, indicating that the Lich must have been equipped with some kind of thermal optics, and he was forced to stay in cover behind the mutilated and melted sports car.
"We're moving!" Sabina called out, and through the thin trails of smoke sneaking up the street, he saw the figure of the Spartan, the spook and the Doc duck into the relative safety of the school.
"Doc's clear" Sara announced "We need to move, rendezvous at Nakatomi Plaza, it'll be easier if we split up, force the covenant to divide their resources."
"Copy that" He said, throwing a couple of M9 fragmentation grenades to discourage further advances by the aliens. Random plasma and needle fire was still emerging from the smoke, and Jake vaulted over the low window sill into the store beside Kovic, moving away from the street further into the store.
"I'll see you at the RV point." Sara said, and Sabina's acknowledgement light turned green to confirm. He activated his, and then turned from the frozen produce aisle towards the back of the shop.
"So then" Kovic said, reloading his SMG "The Spartan and the Helljumper, story writes itself"
They advanced through the empty building, past the surprisingly un-looted shelves of breakfast cereal, frozen Moa steaks and baby formula. They snuck through the employees' only door into the warehouse at the back of the shop, and made their way towards the loading bay at the very back of the room. According to map data downloaded from the city's SUPERINTENDANT class AI, the loading bay led into a backstreet, from which they would have to pass through four more buildings to reach the relative safety of Nakatomi Plaza.
It was as they were moving past the floor-to-ceiling crates of consumer electronics that Jake first felt something was wrong; a momentary flash on his motion sensor, and the feeling that they were being hunted crept up on him. He held up his fist in a non-verbal gesture to halt, and scanned the darkened room; nothing moved, no sounds echoed in from the outside world, no humming of power generators, nothing.
Then, a scuffing noise, barely audible to the human ear, but easily picked up by his helmet's sensitive microphones and his acute hearing. A knot of dread tightened in his stomach, and he turned the flashlights on his rifle and helmet off, motioning for the ODST to do the same.
"What's wrong?" Kovic whispered
"Get ready for a fight" He responded, gulping "We're not alone"