-Day 12-
Six Spartans stood surrounding the varnished oak table in the center of the Situation Room on Atlantis. The cloudless night sky was lit by the two of the three moons orbiting Athens, their silver light glimmering on the restless tides in the vast lake just outside. They had only a month ago received the new and experimental MJOLNIR Mark V[B] armor, but in the twelve days since the Covenant landed every man's armor has become dirtied, bloodied, but not broken. Each man tinkered or augmented their suit in one way or another, creating a unique look for them all. Ordered to wait for the general to arrive, they past the time in silence. Some checked their weapons while others stood against the wall or leaned on the table, daydreaming to pass the time. A few minutes after entering the room, General McArthur entered. One arm was in a sling and heavily bandaged, damage taken from two needler rounds impaling his arm. His fatigues were spotless down to his shins and carbon fiber boots, which were covered in dried mud and spattered with alien blood. The Spartans stood at attention and saluted, McArthur gestured for them to be at ease.
"Damn good job Spartans, taking back that mining station is sure to leave the Covenant vulnerable for the next few weeks." He gladly proclaimed after coming to stand at the head of the table.
"It's not a victory. The Covenant are still on the march, and won't stop until we are nothing but a stain in the dirt." Silver Team's leader Spartan 254, better known as David replied. His grey armor chipped and dented, but recently washed and polished to a sheen.
"Yeah you know us, sir. We don't count success until the ground fucking shakes in response!" Spartan 225, James, zealously added with his fist leaving an indent in the oak table after slamming it down. His voice, like his Captain, revealed him to be of British decent.
"Captain David is right, this planet is going to fall very soon if things keep deteriorating at the rate it is now." General McArthur sighed with a sense of dread clouding his mind, but the good news he was about to share banished the blight on his thoughts, "I made the call to ONI's CASTLE base on Reach, and ordered the transfer of a few individuals and some spare supplies. Included in the package, which will arrive approximately twenty-eight hours from now, are a dozen ODSTs, four dozen marines, and three Spartans."
"How good are these Spartans?" David asked.
"These three have been in the Lavrentian Abyss systems for months, and even the Spartan-IIs are impressed with their skill. One of them is the chief consultant to ONI for Covenant Counterintelligence, one is a damn good explosives expert, and one is of the mythic Spartan-2.5s."
"Sounds good, but what are our orders until they arrive tomorrow morning?" James asked.
"Stay on base until they get here, when all of you are set we will give you your next mission. So get yourselves cleaned up because you all smell like… whatever the hell you were stepping in." McArthur saluted with his non-bandaged hand, "Dismissed!" The Spartans also saluted, and then left.
-Day 13-
Spartan 206, Max, surveyed the dark cloudy sky with a pair of binoculars he found in the passenger seat of a Warthog. He leaned against the Gatling cannon in the rear of the vehicle and peered into the sky, looking for a break in the clouds. After about twenty minutes he finally found some good luck, a small hole in the clouds revealed the orbiting MAC station lit up like a Christmas tree. Carefully, he held his gaze and could barely make out the silhouette of a cruiser docked with the platform. "Why bother sending help? Why couldn't that cruiser just come down here and blow up that damn Covie ship?" He muttered to himself.
"That's because even the MAC gun on that station could only graze it." David walked over to Max with his helmet under his left arm, drinking refreshingly cold water from a stainless steel bottle in his right. Capping the bottle with his thumb, he secured it to his belt snuggly between a fragmentation and plasma grenade. "When they get down here, we'll make sure to unleash hell on those alien bastards."
"Well, they're on their way down, and fast too." Max never took his eyes out of the scope of the binoculars, noticing the orange dot that was a Pelican dropship entering the atmosphere. It lit up the small screen inches from his eyes like a flare, and over the course of a few long moments the aircraft grew closer, making its shape and color more visible. David felt a drop of water drop on his head and put his helmet on, just before it began to drizzle. The hot tarmac in the center of the base churned up a cloud of slight fog in its wake. Now the Pelican broke through the clouds, lighting up the sky like a fiery beacon. David could now see it with his unmagnified visor, and walked towards the center of the flight deck in anticipation of their arrival. The Pelican seemed to pick up speed as it descended, and soon the roar of its engines became a whine in their ears. More Spartans emerged from their barracks and approached the tarmac, filled with a mysterious sense of wonder. They all wanted to see who would emerge from the Pelican, the otherworldly strangers that would join them in the fight against the Covenant.
The Pelican made a steep turn as it descended, and slowed down little by little until it made contact with the landing pad. The boiling hot bulkheads and blazing engines kicked up more steam as the light rain landed on the dropship and the heated tarmac surrounding it. David strolled towards the rear hatch of the Pelican as it cranked open, casting a dim light on the Spartan Captain. When he came to stand just beyond the rear hatch, he heard the sounds of heavy footsteps walking down the anti-skid plates on the rear hatch. When he jumped to the ground beside him, David was nearly overcome with shock and awe. Wearing Mk V[B] armor, Athens' humidity and the drizzle covered it in a mix of rainwater and condensation created by his body heat and fission reactor powering his suit. The jet black plates covering his helm, torso, and legs shimmered in the lights from the interior of the Pelican and the buildings surrounding the tarmac. Ammo packs, knives, grenades, and other assorted tools littered his suit, some of which David could not recognize. His arms were covered in brick red gauntlets and hulking black pauldrons that only added his imposing stature. He outstretched his open hand towards David, putting light on the silver text running up the armor just below his right collar. "Martin-216" His mind stopped dead, for years he heard secondhand tales of the mythic Spartan-2.5s…
When Dr. Halsey created the Spartan-II project, she 'recruited' seventy-five children between the ages of six and eight years old. Unfortunately, the project called for an even one hundred children, obviously out of the UNSC's price range. Over the course of six years she was able to get enough funding for five more children. But by the time she received the funding, the target children were in their teenage years, which was too old for the Spartan project genetic enhancements. She chose five children, and subjected them to the same training and modifications as the Spartan-IIs, but then tossed them into the pile of 'run of the mill' Spartan-IIIs. Despite their posts, each one performed far beyond the expectations of both types of Spartans. David memorized the ID tags of the five legendary soldiers, and two-one-six was standing right in front of him.
"You there, Captain?" The Spartan asked, his voice commanding and imposing. David snapped out of his trance and looked to his hand, finally understanding his greeting. Upon shaking hands, he introduced himself, "Spartan-216, Lieutenant Commander Martin Shepard reporting for duty." The other two Spartans removed themselves from the Pelican, along with a few ODSTs. They began unloading crates of supplies, weapons, and equipment and handing it to workers who transported them to other parts of the base. David looked over Martin's shoulder when he saw a Spartan in purple armor wheeling a cage towards the Spartan barracks, it was rather large and it emanated strange noises.
"Spartan-254, Captain David Silver of Silver Team. Welcome to Athens, the barracks is over there. Get some shuteye while you can, the sun rises at 0700 and you will be briefed at that time." Martin left for the barracks and the Pelican took off once again.