AN: I don't own Fallout or Halo. They belong to Bethesda and Bungie/Microsoft/343 Industries respectively.
Chapter Two
UNSC Frigate Heavy Hitter, in orbit around Earth. 1203 Hours, September 05, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Captain McNeal looked up from his computer as the doors to his quarters opened, revealing an unusually tall man.
'Lieutenant Commander SPARTAN-B124, reporting as ordered,' he said, performing a crisp salute.
'Come in.' McNeal gestured to the unoccupied chair in front of his small desk inside the room. 'Have a seat.'
'Thank you, sir.'
The Spartan quickly sat down in the proffered seat but remained sat at perpetual attention.
McNeal tapped a few items off on his computer then shut the lid, directing his full attention at the man sat in front of him.
B124, or Scott as McNeal had seen on his heavily redacted and classified file, was a Spartan, the UNSC's supersoldiers, and it showed.
Scars crisscrossed his face, pale from a lack of sunlight, and the man was easily six foot ten, towering over McNeal and most of the others aboard the Heavy Hitter. He even outweighed most of them too with a weight of one-hundred-and-twelve kilos, but that wasn't the only defining feature of the Spartan.
His eyes were a piercing icy-blue, holding a mixture of wariness and distrust as though the Spartan regarded everyone as a potential hostile. The fact they never seemed to blink as well was just unsettling.
'I'm not sure what you've heard, Commander, but we're in an unusual position,' McNeal said.
'Unusual, sir?' Scott said, prompting the captain to nod grimly. 'How?'
'For starters, we can't pick up any kind of UNSC signal on the communication system,' McNeal began. 'Then we encountered an alien craft of unknown origin and the Earth is, well...'
McNeal trailed off, searching for the right words.
'Wrong,' he said. 'The Earth is wrong.'
'I don't understand, sir,' Scott said. 'How can the Earth be wrong?'
The Spartan frowned slightly as McNeal let out a weary sight, the senior naval officer saying, 'It just is.'
He turned to a small holotank set into the desk.
'Sasha, could you help explain what happened?'
The device hummed into life and Sasha appeared above it, her translucent image lighting up the immediate vicinity on the desk around her avatar.
'I'll try, captain,' she said before turning to face Scott. 'Scans of the planet have revealed a multitude of inconsistencies compared to what the Earth should be. Most notably, the background radiation count and atmospheric concentrations.'
Sasha activated the wall mounted screen and displayed a graph of some kind containing two different lines, one red and one blue.
'The blue line represents what a normal reading of the Earth's atmosphere should be,' Sasha continued, highlighting the blue line. It went up and down, showing the various concentrations of the various gases and elements that made up the planet's atmosphere.
'And this is what it currently is.'
The red line was highlighted this time, overlaying the blue line, and Scott saw the carbon and soot levels were several times higher than they should have been while the ozone levels were almost gone completely, barely appearing on the graph.
'Heavy pollutants, such as ash and soot, make up the majority of the differences,' Sasha said, folding her arms and tapping her foot, and McNeal knew from working with the AI that this was her stance for when she had discovered something, something unsettling. 'As for the high radiation count, I've developed a number of programs that allow me to create a computer model of the Earth's climate and simulate what various actions will do to it in both the short and long term.'
She unfolded her arm and looked directly at the two men.
'I've run these simulations hundreds of time, factoring in everything from unexpected solar flares, to catastrophic global warming, to a full Covenant glassing, but only one simulation came anywhere close to replicating that.'
Sasha pointed at the screen and the graphs it displayed before shifting the image to show the Earth as it should be, covered in lush greens and blues.
'Full scale nuclear war between multiple, if not all, nations on Earth.'
The image became a video as flashes of light appeared on the Earth's surface, nuclear detonations, and both McNeal and Scott watched in silence as the Earth's surface slowly turned from lush to lifeless, dull browns replacing the vivid greens, a desert.
'It's not possible,' McNeal whispered as the image finally froze. 'There must be another explanation.
'There isn't, Captain,' Sasha said as she turned the screen off. 'I'm sorry.'
McNeal covered his mouth with both hands, staring blankly at the Spartan who just sat there, face a neutral mask, remaining that way until the captain broke the silence and spoke.
'Sasha, can you confirm the presence of cities and other structures on the surface?' he asked, taking his hands away and leaning back in his chair, glancing between Scott and Sasha.
'Yes, Captain,' she replied. 'It was one of the first things I checked to confirm that this was Earth.
'Can you tell of UNSC HIGHCOM facility A-17 is still down there?'
Sasha activated the screen again and brought up a grainy image of a bombed out city, highlighting a single section and enhancing it.
'UNSC HIGHCOM facility A-17 located, sir.'
'Good.' McNeal turned to Scott. 'Because you're going down there, Spartan. Find and access any records you can and report them. Understood?'
'Yes, sir,' Scott said.
'Then go gear up. We'll be dropping you within an hour.'
'Will I be going in alone, sir?' he asked, making McNeal give him an unhappy nod.
'We don't know exactly what the atmosphere is like down there but your suit should be able to filter any toxins out,' McNeal said. 'If not, switch to your internal supply and radio for a Pelican to pick you up. But until we know what the air is like then yes, you'll be on your own.'
He looked down for a second.
'I'm sorry.'
'I understand, sir,' Scott said as he stood, coming to attention and saluting.
McNeal returned it and the Spartan left.
UNSC Frigate Heavy Hitter, in orbit around Earth. 1236 Hours, September 05, 2552 (Military Calendar)
The door slid open as Scott pressed the last number on the keypad, unveiling what he called his quarters.
It was sparsely furnished, containing only three beds, but that wasn't what he was interested in at the moment.
Set against the wall opposite the beds were three Plexiglas mannequins, and on the middle one was a full set of MJOLNIR Mark V armour finished in a dull matte grey.
Scott walked up to the empty suit and traced a finger over its hardened outer surface.
'Hello again, friend,' he murmured softly.
The armour was a masterpiece of human engineering, capable of augmenting a Spartan's already impressive physical capabilities and projecting a recharging energy shield that covered him fully, and could support a ship-borne AI like Sasha thanks to a layer of a woven memory-processor super-conductor.
The end result was a soldier that had superhuman strength, speed, and durability, with the advantage of receiving instant intelligence updates in the field, even deep behind enemy lines when cut off from friendly support.
Scott peered into the black visor of his helmet then stepped away towards a portable holotank set up on one of the beds, tapping the top of it.
The projector flickered into life.
'Naptime's over, Tara. Time to wake up.'
The Spartan sat down on the next bed and began to disrobe as the image of a woman wearing jeans and a lab coat appeared above the small holotank.
'Initiating system start up,' the woman said as she patted herself down, smoothing a series of wrinkles from her clothes. 'System online. Greetings, Lieutenant Commander.'
'Tara,' Scott said as he folded away his uniform.
Tara, like Sasha, was an AI. But unlike Sasha, she was what the UNSC classified as a dumb AI.
Compared to the smart variety, dumb AIs weren't capable of learning things outside of their specific function, which limited them to performing a single task, but it meant they could live far longer than smart AIs which had to be legally retired after seven years of service.
In this case, Tara had been designed for infiltrating computer systems and other secured areas that were protected by an electronic lock, though she had a few other capabilities that had helped Scott over the years he had worked with her.
'Internal chronometers show that it's been five weeks, three days since we last spoke,' she said, turning to follow Scott as he returned to the MJOLNIR armour. 'I trust the slipspace journey was uneventful?'
'It was,' Scott replied. 'But what happened afterwards wasn't.'
He stopped in front of the armour and reached up for the helmet.
Even though the MJOLNIR armour had been designed to deal with a variety of different situations, it could be modified to better deal with others. Almost everything was interchangeable to suit a Spartans requirements and needs, and Scott had altered several parts on his armour to reflect his.
His helmet was part of the K series of armours outfitted with additional plating on the brow and a command network module on the left side, enabling a better guarantee at radioing an orbiting ship or intercepting enemy transmissions, while the left shoulder was outfitted with a piece taken from the up-armour series of supplementary attachments, the multi-threat model.
Scott's right shoulder had another model from the up-armoured series, this one taken from the base security line, that enabled him to retain a degree of freedom when firing a rifle at long range while giving him some additional protection from attacks in close quarters.
His chest had three additional pouches that were big enough for either spare magazines or other pieces of equipment like lock picks and data pads, while a universal global positioning system was attached to his left forearm, a supplement and back up to the mapping system already present on his heads up display.
He also had a soft case clipped to his left thigh, an additional storage compartment for anything and everything that didn't specifically have a home anywhere else on his armour, and knee guards from the FJ/Para model of armours that offered maximum protection at minimal weight, designed for airborne units and pathfinders.
Every part of the armour had been dutifully examined and then tested by Scott over the course of him having the armour, both his current suit and the Mark IV that had preceded it up until November of last year.
'I don't-' Tara began to say before stopping as she accessed the ship's records, looking off into the distance as she did. 'I see what you mean, Commander.'
'Yeah,' Scott said. 'And we've been tasked with finding out why the Earth is like it is.'
He put the helmet down and started on the rest of the armour, disassembling it piece by piece, ready for him to put on once the team of technicians arrived to help him don the suit.
'Ah.' The AI refocused her attention back on the Spartan as he placed the shoulder pauldrons on the deck. 'Coordinating with Sasha to obtain detailed satellite maps of the area.'
'Good,' Scott said as the trio of engineers arrived in his room, ready to help him don the armour. 'If I'm going in alone, I want as much info on the area as possible.'
He paused momentarily as he stared at the two empty mannequins, shaking his head, and Tara caught the subtle motion.
Before jumping to Earth, Scott had been part of a three-Spartan fireteam attached to the battlegroup in orbit over Leon, a distant Inner Colony suffering from a Covenant invasion.
They had been tasked with conducting numerous operations to undermine the alien menace's position until being assigned to holding the line against the advancing enemy until the civilians could be safely evacuated.
Scott and his team had been successful in their mission but he was the only member of Grey Team to survive relatively unscathed.
One Spartan had died whilst the other was hanging by a thread aboard the UNSC Hopeful.
'Of course, Commander,' Tara said.
Her avatar watched as the three technicians helped Scott into the black bodysuit before starting the arduous process of attaching the external plating.
UNSC Frigate Heavy Hitter, in orbit around Earth. 1301 Hours, September 05, 2552 (Military Calendar)
The deck thudded under the heavy footfalls of Scott, now clad in full MJOLNIR armour, as he marched towards the Heavy Hitter's HEV launch room.
Accompanying him was Captain McNeal, feeling decidedly insignificant ext to the fully armoured and armed Spartan warrior.
'We've managed to clear up the overheads of the city to mark out a suitable drop zone for you,' he said. 'It's a little north of the city but there's no other area clear enough.'
'How far away is it from the target?' Scott asked.
'Ten or so miles in a straight line.' McNeal brought out his data pad and activated the device, bringing up a small but clear picture of the city, and Scott peered at it. 'Unfortunately, from the looks of things, there's a lot of rubble to get through so a direct route might not be possible. I've uploaded these images to your suit for when you're down there.'
The two men came to a large door that a Marine had scribbled 'Hell's Waiting Room' onto, McNeal making an annoyed noise at the sight, but it opened and revealed twin rows of human entry vehicles.
Scott pulled the hatch open on the nearest one and began packing it with his supplies.
For the operation, he had elected to use an MA5K, a cut down carbine version of the MA5B, due to the situation on the ground being relatively unknown.
Its slim profile and light weight would make it suitable for close quarters combat while the rifle sized cartridge would make it suitable for engaging more heavily armoured target, though Scott would have preferred to use a battle rifle, liking the weapon's accuracy and burst fire mode over the MA5K's full auto fire mode, but the battle rifle was more of a marksman's weapon, not a general purpose weapon, which the full auto carbine was.
Until the situation on the ground was understood, the MA5K would be Scott's primary weapon, backed up by an M6G magnum.
He stowed them both in their respective compartments inside the cramped pod then joined them, sitting down in the HEV's sole seat and strapping himself in.
'Radio when you get dirt side, Commander,' McNeal ordered. 'Then proceed to the objective.'
'Yes, sir,' Scott said.
He pulled the last restraint tight, finishing, and McNeal stepped back to start the launch process.
The hatch on the HEV closed automatically and Scott nodded through the small window built into the pod's door, receiving one back just as the whole thing was dropped from the ship and began its descent to the surface below.
Spartan-B124, in combat drop to surface of Earth. 1334 Hours, September 05, 2552 (Military Calendar)
Scott regulated his breathing as the HEV activated its drag chute, feeling his head snap forward at the sudden deceleration, and braced for the braking rockets that would soon follow.
'Landfall in twelve seconds,' Tara said coolly into his ear.
He had uploaded the AI to his armour after he was finished suiting up.
She could tap into any wireless network, secured or not, and use it to aid the Spartans no matter where they were. It had taken Scott a while to get used to hearing Tara's voice coming from not only his helmet speakers but inside his head, too.
'Braking rockets activating.'
The pod shuddered again as four small but powerful rockets activated, slowing the velocity from being lethal to survivable, and Scott braced as best he could, gripping his pistol tightly.
A lifetime of training and experience had taught him to always have a weapon handy when dropping into unfamiliar and potentially hostile surroundings, even if it was a UNSC world.
'Touchdown!' Tara yelled needlessly a scant second before the HEV hit solid ground, the door blowing off within seconds and Scott followed it out, weapon raised and scanning for threats.
When he was satisfied there weren't any, he holstered it and turned back to the HEV, retrieving the rest of his equipment.
'Start atmospheric analysis,' he ordered, pulling out his MA5K.
He checked it for damage and found none, then ejected the magazine and visually confirmed it held thirty rounds before slipping it back into place.
'Beginning analysis,' Tara said.
The MJOLNIR armour had a number of sensors built into it that could detect any number of toxins or anomalous materials in the air, enabling it to more effectively filter them out or just switch over to the internal supply depending on the air quality. It even came with an ARGUS unit for detecting explosive devices.
'Analysis complete,' Tara said.
A small graph appeared in the lower right hand corner of Scott's HUD.
'Care to explain it?' he asked, clipping the first of twenty magazines into place for his rifle onto his armour, followed soon after by eight magazines for the pistol.
'Atmosphere readings show elevated concentrations of carbon, soot, and ash, alongside high levels of radiation.' The graph winked off. 'No toxins detected.'
'Good. Send a report to the Heavy.'
Scott checked the pins on a quartet of fragmentation grenades then attached them to his armour.
With that, the pod had been stripped of all its munitions, leaving just the numerous MREs and medical supplies that the Spartan placed into a rucksack, snapping the clasps shut once it was full and swinging it onto his back.
'Now the fun begins,' he muttered, picking up his rifle and holding it across his chest.
The Spartan activated the waypoint that would lead him to the HIGHCOM facility, orientating himself on it.
A-17 was to his south, and between it and Scott was the bombed out remains of a once proud city, now nothing more than a dilapidated ruin that had smoke rising from some sections in thin trails, barely visible in the midday sun, and Scott could swear he heard the faint clatter of automatic weapons discharging.
'Maybe we aren't the only ones here,' Tara said, voicing the Spartan's thoughts.
He just nodded and began walking, rifle held closely.
