Author's Notes: Alright, first, to all the people who loyally read this story: my humblest apologies. During the holiday season, as I'm sure you can understand, things got just the slightest bit hectic, and I was unable to work on this as much as I wanted to. In addition to that, I finally finished this chapter early on this week, and then subsequently decided to make a major plot change for the next few chapters...and I had to redo it. So yeah...that's why it's so late. Throw in a minor case of Writer's Block, and you've got my problem.
However, in the future, I promise to do all I can to avoid two-week intervals in-between chapters. It throws me off too. As long as I have no major cases of Writer's Block or some random emergency, chapters will be posted just as soon as I can make them worthwhile for you to read. Okay? Thank you. :)
Now, reviews (while I still get some, lol):
killerman83ca: Hey, I considered the idea and pretty much took a poll on the Flood from everyone, and I think I'm gonna hold off on them until later, like I'd originally planned. Thanks very much for your input though. I'll probably be asking for more later on.
Benaia Dre: lol, I don't know if stuff will get cut short or not. Hopefully, there won't be cause for it. But, I know that, for some people, to sit and scroll through 12,000 words of text (some of it bolded or italicized, lol), is a real brain-killer. Heck, it certainly is for me to proofread. Thanks for the review, though, and YES, Malone is dead and buried...err...eaten.
WolfyWolf: Hey, thanks for the review and compliment! You should know, the fighting hasn't started up just yet, as this one will be their introduction to the next segment...but, after that, I'm sending in the super-soldiers for a little more havoc on the Covenant lines. hehehe.
Taylor114: Thank you! There are several reviewers I can count on to hear from, and you are one of them! Thanks much for the compliment, and I hope you like the lead-up chapter to the next segment of all-out war. ;)
The Great Valley Guardian: I'm glad someone commented on that. I didn't want to take too long and make a huge deal out of their disagreement, but I did want to draw attention to the fact that they don't all view war the same way. I got Ghosts of Onyx, by the way...haven't read it yet, though. Plan to. lol. Thanks again!
Suliac Griffin: Electrocution? Surgery? I applaud the originality. :) hehehe...love it... Also, lol, back on track, thanks for your input on the last one. I know it was a little...shallow, as far as actual content goes. As you've probably picked up on, I have trouble writing in general (lol), but I have major problems with debriefings and such. They do not come easy to me, and it shows miserably. But again, thank you, and I hope you like the next segment, once it really gets going.
zned51: Meh, I know it's short, but I couldn't have added a whole lot to it anyway. Really, I thought about combining it with this one here, except that they're at two different times, and I HATE doing that. I know it was short, but this one was supposed to come right after, so...yeah...didn't happen, but...ANYWAY, I tried to cut down on the bolding. Really, I checked back and I might've overdid it in a few chapters, but last chapter in particular I think I just went overboard a little. It shouldn't happen again. Thanks!
Gormanuyai: Hola! Thanks for the review, lol. You can go a chapter or two without a review...especially when I go a week or two without a chapter, lol. What was your bone with it? I think...oh yeah, nvmd. I remember.
Passerbywanderer: lol, hello. I don't know if "suck" is the right word. It would suck to become one and then DIE during the augmentations and such. I think, passed that...well, it would take some getting-used-to, but it would have its perks too. Thanks for the compliment.
1 way ticket: lol, no, the Spartans of Zulu Company are not known for tolerance...especially when it comes to two-legged aliens holding large guns. In that instance, the words "attack and kill with extreme prejudice" tend to fit much better. But, you know me, so you know that a few of the characters aren't going to be known for their patience or kindness anyway. ;)
Also, in regards to the Covenant Army...it's big enough for you to disregard any numbers I use to describe it unless they're in the millions or hundreds-of-thousands. Otherwise...assume no large dent was made. Perhaps Gormanuyai could give us an actual number, but I'm too lazy to look one up right at this moment. Ask me next time you see me, lol.
Finally, the funeral...well, yeah. It did suck. And the comment you made about Zeke...It's not a self-blame game. It's an "I-screwed-up-and-someone-else-paid-for-it. Why-did-I-do-that?" type of game. ;)
Now, to the chapter that was postponed for an extra week because of my busy schedule and having to redo it. Before you even start, know that it's another info-chapter, but it should be a little better (and longer) than the last one. After this, though, I'm bringing the guns and smack-talk back. ;)
Chapter 25:
- New Orders -
1100 Hours - January 1, 2553
UNSC Weapons Research Station - Los Angeles, California
Captain John Morris fired the last four rounds from his sidearm before holstering the weapon and running for the door after his squad. As he flew into the building, one of the Marines already inside pressed buttons on a wall-mounted monitor and the huge, two-foot-thick, Titanium-A door swung slowly shut.
The Captain hunched over and grabbed his knees, panting. Outside, he could hear the whining sound of superheated plasma splashing across the door. He couldn't believe how fast the Covenant had mounted an attack. One second, he was watching a pair of Phantoms landing more than half a mile south of the station. The next, his team was trading fire with nearly thirty alien soldiers.
"Sir, we've just received word from Alpha and Gamma Squads." Private Scott Hill said as he stepped toward the Captain. "Their doors are shut and locked too."
Morris nodded his head and stood up, having finally caught his breath. He could still hear plasma hitting the door. "What about Delta and Zeta?"
Hill shook his head. "Nothing from them yet, sir," he said.
The Captain looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of the best way to stay alive. He'd been told, only hours before, that his squad and four others would be in charge of guarding the major entrances to the UNSC Weapons Research Station from Covenant attacks. He was never told why or for how long. Hell, he wasn't even told, for sure, whether or not the Covenant would mount an attack. His orders were short and clear: If they attack, keep them out at all costs.
Morris subsequently learned from one of his more technologically-inclined Marines, Private Dave Bolding, that this "Weapons Research Station" was actually a storage plant for something the UNSC was keeping secret, to be revealed on a "need-to-know" basis. The Captain had only heard stories and rumors about what was inside, and nothing he'd heard so far was remotely plausible.
Until today, he hadn't been in major combat for almost a month. His troops had been stationed in southern Oregon, and no one had seen so much as a glimpse of the Covenant there. It was almost like the war hadn't even been going on.
The Captain shook his head. Not anymore, he thought, looking at the door and listening to the sound of plasma burning on the other side. He could still hear the yelling of the Covenant Brutes on the outside, barking commands and no doubt ordering the smaller aliens to work faster.
None of it made any sense, though. There were too many holes in the whole "guard the Research Station" order. For instance, why was this station – the whole damned thing – made of Titanium-A, the very material used to make the hulls of all the UNSC starships, including Destroyers and Carriers? Why were there over two-hundred Marines on-staff to stop the Covenant from getting their alien fingers on the research held within the station, when there were still scientists in the lower levels fully capable of deleting all of it at a moment's notice?
Morris rolled his eyes. Because it's not a damned "Research Station," you old fool. It's something else. It has to be.
"Sir," Hill said, snapping him out of his thoughts.
"Yes?"
"Bolding just got word from Delta and Zeta. All entrances are secured, for now."
The Captain smiled. Finally, he thought, good news.
"What do we do now, sir?"
"Well, Private," Morris said, reloading his sidearm and his Assault Rifle before taking a seat on the floor, facing the door. "We wait."
…and keep us safe. Be with Magnus, wherever he is and whatever tests are being done to him. Watch over us as we wage this war, in some attempt to cling to what we have left. Give us what we need to fight the Covenant, who are still waiting out there, crouched on our doorstep. Please. Amen.
Samuel lifted his head to see Victoria and Zeke going at it with a pair of steel swords with hilts and blades identical to Covenant Energy Swords. The only difference between their little sparring match and a full-out battle was that neither the swords nor the blades on their armor were plasma-covered, and therefore, neither would be capable of getting through their MJOLNIR armor.
The ten-foot Spartan smiled and shook his head. They'd been at it for two hours, fighting in the parking lot. On some level, the dedication was admirable. On another, it was ridiculous, overzealous. The two of them simply never tired of fighting, ever.
That's all Samuel could remember from the past few days, really, was the daily routine the Spartans had developed. After Zulu Training Ground had been obliterated by the Covenant's Anti-Matter Charges, they'd had been taken via Pelican to a different military base, located in northern Arizona. The next day, after the funeral services, they were flown to yet another base, just outside the city of Las Vegas, Nevada. Now, they'd been there for four days, recovering, and a few of them appeared to finally be going stir-crazy.
In addition to Zeke and Victoria slicing at one another like a pair of Elites, Blaine and Stephanie had both been called in that morning to have a set of armor permutations done on their upper halves. Jason was asleep somewhere, Samuel believed, and Landon was off test-driving a few UNSC vehicles the Spartans had never seen while at the Training Ground, including a UNSC Cougar and Sparrowhawk.
Samuel sighed. It was true: he'd wanted just a couple days to relax after nearly being slaughtered at Zulu Training Ground. However, sitting still for four days was beginning to get to him. This base was made for standard Marines, not Spartans. Their gym didn't have enough weights to challenge a Spartan. The so-called "obstacle course" they had was easier than the one Samuel had done in basic, before his augmentations.
He shook his head and stood up. It was no use watching the two DNA-altered Spartans. They'd still be at it when he came back to the parking lot in a few hours.
"That all you've got?" his voice echoed inside Victoria's helmet. She took another swing at him, and Zeke barely dodged to the left.
"You know, you're really annoying when you're losing." She said. She heard him scoff loudly.
"Well, at least I'm only annoying on rare occasion then." He said. "As opposed to you, who seems to actually be in charge of the department dedicated to irritating me."
Victoria ducked easily, perfectly aware of the six centimeters she'd dodged Zeke's blade by. "Always the smart-ass," she said.
"Always."
She twisted to the right and parried his blade with the one on her left elbow, bending her arm so that his sword came up over her head. When he was exposed, she stabbed her own forward, but was surprised when the blade on his knee came up to block the shot.
"Oh come on," he said mockingly, shaking his head as she drew back for another strike. "You at least have to work for it."
Victoria rolled her eyes. She lunged forward with her sword, purposely leaving her stomach open, but blocked with the blade on her left arm when Ezekiel went in for a strike. "You at least have to work for it." She said, mimicking his tone.
He mumbled something under his breath and swung the sword hard, hard enough that it would've dented the blade had it actually connected with her armor. At the last second, however, she ducked again, and the blade whistled by, cutting through the air inches above her head.
Victoria raised her right arm and brought her own sword down, but Zeke blocked it with one of his elbow-mounts. A second later, the wind was knocked out of her as he punched her hard in the gut.
She hadn't been expecting it and, as she recoiled, he stepped forward and thrust his boot into her stomach, sending her skidding across the parking lot. She got up, fuming.
"I didn't know we were using our hands." She said irritably.
Zeke shrugged. "Sure," he said sarcastically, "feel free to ban any form of combat if it makes your life easier. I'm sure the Covenant will oblige."
"You can be a real-"
"Bastard? Yes. I know. Thanks."
Victoria was about to respond when Samuel came running out to them from one of the buildings.
"You want a turn, Goliath? I'm getting bored out here." Zeke said, still focusing on Victoria long enough for his suit to relay the message to her.
Samuel shook his head. "We're getting new orders." He said. "Follow me. The others are already waiting for us."
Both Spartans dropped their "toy-swords" and walked toward the base, double-time.
Stephanie walked into the Las Vegas military station's mess hall clenching and unclenching her fists. She felt strange. The doctors had finished up her and Blaine's permutations only a few minutes before the Spartans had all been called down for their new orders, and she hadn't had time to get used to them.
The two cybernetic Spartans were told that their permutations would, in essence, only provide additional options to them in battle, and wouldn't hinder them, should they decide not to use them. There were two main adjustments: the first was a set of implants in their helmets that would enable them to see in infra-red to compensate for a loss of vision in darkened areas and against Brutes utilizing Active-Camouflage. Stephanie felt like there weren't enough of them to even warrant an implant, but according to recent reports, they were apparently being deployed far more often than before. The second, and more notable alteration, was one made to their breastplates and to their bodies as well.
This specific permutation was similar to one utilized by the original Spartan III's. A chemical implant would inject high amounts of adrenaline into the Spartan's systems for sudden bursts of strength or stamina. The major difference between Zulu Company's alterations and those of the Spartan III's, however, was the inclusion of an energy-converting device that would divert energy from the Spartan's shields directly to the MJOLNIR armor's motor-systems. This would allow for an incredible burst of physical strength in the soldier's upper-body, second only to, perhaps, a Covenant Hunter.
Thankfully, both of these permutations could be activated by the Spartan by using the neuro-implants in their helmets along with their primitive AI's. Until that point, they would be inactive.
Which, unless it's completely unavoidable, is exactly how they'll stay: inactive. Stephanie thought. She wasn't comfortable with the idea of injecting massive amounts of adrenaline into her system for the sole purpose of getting a few seconds of Hercules-level strength. Not only that, but the idea of sacrificing her shields for that strength, the very shields that had single-handedly kept her alive a dozen times now, seemed ludicrous.
Sighing, she took a seat between Samuel and Jason as the Corporal walked in from a side-door to the mess hall. "Do you know what's in store for us?" She asked Samuel.
The giant shook his head slowly. "I have no idea." He said. "All I know is that it involves a lot of Covenant and the city of Los Angeles."
Stephanie's eyes lit up for a moment. "Los Angeles?"
Samuel nodded.
Suddenly, the permutations didn't seem to matter as much. Neither did the Covenant. Stephanie took a deep breath, trying, but failing, to keep her mind from wandering too far. She worked to keep from thinking about it, but found that she was powerless within her own mind. It had been over seven years. So many thoughts, so many memories were floating around in her head.
She was going to Los Angeles.
She was going home.
"I hope you all have enjoyed your days off." Corporal Charles said as he took a spot in the center of the mess hall. He looked around as the seven Spartans sat around anxiously. Then, he added, "because they are officially over."
That instant, seven pairs of eyes lit up eagerly, waiting for the next challenge. Charles understood, but he still couldn't fathom how much they loved the thought of a fight with the Covenant. To a Marine, days off were a blessing to recuperate from battle, spend time with his or her family, and just kick back and relax. To the Spartans, days off were if a necessary evil to regain their strength, nothing more.
He cleared his throat before going on. "The Covenant have taken the city of Los Angeles." He said. "There are literally dozens of Phantoms stationed at or around the UNSC Weapons Research Station, just off the coast. The station walls are one-hundred-percent Titanium-A and have held up to everything the aliens have hit them with so far." He paused, then added, "but they won't last forever."
At this, Charles heard the sound of someone's knuckles cracking. Either Zeke or Landon, he wagered silently.
"What you should know is that this station is built in a cone-shape, with its greatest area at the bottom, where it sits on the ground. At the top, it's only about one-hundred feet in diameter. At the bottom, it's a two-mile jog from one side to the other."
Jason whistled loudly.
"The UNSC branch in L.A. is opting for an air-strike to level the whole area around the building. The station should hold up to a low-level nuclear strike just fine, but a pair of missiles will completely annihilate every alien in town." Smiling, the Corporal scanned the line of soldiers in front of him. "This is where you come in."
A second later, the line was plagued with puzzled looks…except for Landon, of course, who was most likely simply jumping at the thought of flying a vehicle armed with tactical nukes.
"The Covenant have stationed four anti-air guns around the perimeter of the station. They're massive stationary weapons, and together, they've been able to blast everything bigger than a Hornet right out of the sky. The L.A. branch wants the seven of you to go in and take them out." He thought about leaving them with that, but decided against it. "It's going to be Hell in there." He said. "All we really need is a pair of them destroyed. That should open up a window large enough to drop the bomb. Once we drop one, the other won't be a problem."
Samuel stood up. "So, our orders are simply to go in and take out the anti-air?"
Charles nodded.
"Damn," Landon said, "was hoping for a challenge."
The Corporal shook his head. "Trust me, Landon," he said, "you'll get your challenge. Because of the AA Guns, we can't drop you off anywhere close to the station. You'll be dropped off in a ruined part of the city, where the dropship can get in low and avoid the guns. After that, it's gonna be a fight the whole way there. L.A. is crawling with those aliens. If I were you, I'd see what the UNSC has in the way of vehicles and try to accelerate your progress a little."
Samuel nodded, understanding. "Anything else we should know?" He asked.
"Just one thing: the Phantom will be here to pick you up in three hours. It's time for you to gear-up."
Instantly, Zeke stood up. "Did you say the 'Phantom'?"
Charles nodded. "Yes, I did. This time, I made sure that you'd have some help. The Elites are sending a few of their soldiers along with you, and you'll be meeting up with a squad of Marines when you land. There'll be twenty-one of you when all is said and done." He smiled despite himself.
Not this time, he thought. They're not alone in it this time.
"The Hell," Zeke snapped. "I'm a soldier, not some damned babysitter!" He threw his arm out and tagged the wall with enough force to dent the iron. "As if sending the Elites with us wasn't enough, he decides it's in our "best interest" to make us watch over a bunch of Marines?"
"Enough." Stephanie said. "We've fought with the Marines beside us before. They're perfectly capable soldiers."
Zeke rolled his eyes. "I know," he growled, "but they're only human. They can't keep up with you or me, or any of us, for that matter. And I refuse to slow down just to let them catch up. If you want to, you're more than welcome, but don't expect me to wait."
Stephanie opened her mouth to say something but, apparently, nothing came, because she closed it just as quickly. Zeke's smirk glowed with an arrogance that earned him a glare from both the cybernetic female and Victoria as well.
He shrugged, and then nodded appreciatively as Samuel held the door to the Armory for him and the rest of the Spartans. Slowly, he stepped inside, looking for his weapons of choice. He saw Stephanie stalk off to another end of the room. Suddenly, as he approached a gun-rack, a large shadow overtook his.
"Samuel," he said.
"Do you have to do that?" The head-Spartan asked. Zeke shrugged again.
"Do what?" He asked innocently, reaching over and gripping a Sniper Rifle from one of the racks on the wall.
"Zeke…" Samuel dragged the word out, making it all the more irritating.
"What?" Ezekiel snapped. "You want me to apologize to her? Fine, I'll go apologize." He sat the rifle back down and turned to walk over to the Cyborg before Samuel grabbed his shoulder.
"No, I don't want you to do that." Samuel laughed as he started to speak again. "Only because you are the only human being I know who could possibly start another fight with an apology."
Again, he rolled his eyes. "So then, what do you want me to do?" He grabbed two magazines of ammo for the rifle and stuffed them into the small bag he was carrying before moving again.
"Play nicely." Samuel said, following him. "Act like you actually care."
Zeke stopped dead, almost dropping the Carbine he'd just picked up. "But I don-"
"That's why I said 'act.'"
Zeke smiled and put down the Covenant Carbine. He lifted the rifle again, attaching it to the mount on the back of his armor. "Whatever you say, Goliath."
Author's Notes: Well, that's it for this one. I'll try to have the next one out ASAP. I'm back to school now, so time will be a little...short...but, thankfully, we're off Friday of next week, so it should be done by that night, at the latest. Until next time, please leave me something to read, and tell me you're all still there...