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"The district is secured and locked down, Admiral." Lieutenant Denbei reported when they had finished clearing the district of the Cerberus stragglers and returned to their base. "No major casualties or complications. Reporting from Charlie station to request further orders, Sir."
It had been set up right in the bones of the Cerberus one, in fact, for obvious reasons. Albeit after a thorough security sweep for sensors, and repairs to the damages he'd caused. Outsidethey'd taken up residence in Cerberus' own barracks and cafeteria, though they'd set up their communication hub inside. Safe and sound, set up in a private waiting room on the top floor, right against the armored hull of the station. More sleeping quarters for officers - separated for indoctrination related concerns - had been spread out along the other private rooms and offices of the top floor.
With it secured, more soldiers and mercenaries had been docking amidst the battle outside, which was going well enough. For a slug fest, that was. But then all naval battles seemed to devolve to that, in this world and his old one both. It seemed to just be the nature of the beast, like how guns were used in both places.
But he forced his attention back to the mostly empty, cord covered and overly warm room.
"It's good to hear it." Hackett grunted quietly, eyes flicking to pay attention to something they couldn't see for a moment. He nodded and they saw him sign something on a datapad offered to him by someone who was invisible but for their hands and then moved on, "Offensives station-wide are grinding through Cerberus lines with only moderate difficulty, at least in the lower quarters."
"Not the higher ones though, Admiral?"
"No. Unfortunately not, but the details of that bring me to the reason I arranged this connection." At a wave a simplified map of Omega came into view, the bottom third lit in blue and the rest in red. A small green dot blinked to life where they were and the man explained, in brief, "As you can see, we've secured most of the base of the station. Their fleet presence outside is heavy, but so far they haven't decided to bombard it."
"Whatever they have wouldn't punch through the hull's armor anyway." Denbei grunted, hands clasped behind his waist and thumb working a circle on the outside of his hand. A nervous tick, and so the ODST ignored it. "And even if they did, Sir, then that would almost certainly compromise the station's integrity. Not a good plan if you want to use Omega as a staging point to hold the Relays."
"Our thoughts exactly, which is why we're not doing much unless we see them trying a boarding maneuver. And why we're fighting from the bottom of the station out here." Which wasn't a good place to be, that was sure. Most of the station's defenses didn't work well trying to fire up, thanks to the curve of its own hull, so they could take as much as they wanted. But while the fleet matched their pace, they couldn't contribute to that fight. "We're dragging, though. What we need here is a blitz, not a proper siege, or we'll get bogged down. And if that happens, there are seven kinds of hell that can come down on us."
"Reapers." He guessed, though it wasn't exactly a leap to make the conclusion. "Or Cerberus reinforcements. Neither are things we want to deal with."
"Both of which are damn good reasons we can not sit and wait while our forces grind each other down." Hackett said by way of agreement, grimacing and taking a breath before moving on and making his displeasure's reason clear as day. "All of my strategists and tacticians agree that we can't wait around here, grinding our lines against each other and pushing them back. We'll win, as things are, but…"
"But things won't stay that way." John guessed, earning a nod and then sighing tiredly. "You're going to try something with a lot less patience, aren't you, sir?"
"You don't approve?" The man asked with a small chuckle, a thin smile breaking his sharp veneer for the briefest moment. "I'd have thought that 'balls to the wall' was the one and only way your mind went, honestly.
"I do approve, actually, even if the Commander wouldn't. And yeah, my mind does tend to run along the same lines..." He chuckled at the man's amused snort, shaking his head wryly and letting out another sigh as the duo slid back into professionalism, at least for the moment. "What's the plan, then? I don't imagine you want us to exfiltrate and do another insertion."
"Nothing that dangerous, no." The man dismissed the idea easily, with a wave of his hand and a shake of his head. "Even if I wanted to, we don't have the insertion pods for it at the moment. We'd have to withdraw and resupply on them, or call on a supply run from a friendly system."
"The Geth could manage it, Sir." They were as industrious as the Rachni from what he'd seen and heard, and close enough to resupply them rapidly. They probably already were, for all he knew. Respectfully, and for the admittedly rather minute fear of offending the most powerful man in the system, he added, "Assuming you hadn't already thought of them, that is."
"Relax, son, my pride isn't so easily bruised. And besides, you aren't technically under my command anymore, since your adoption." Another chuckle and the man turned to the other in the room, who had thus far been quiet and simply watching them. Whether for dislike, awe or simple patience and knowing not to step into a minefield, John couldn't be sure. But he blamed a day of fighting for not considering it. Regardless, Hackett only grunted a small, "Forgive us, Special Lieutenant, we seem to have gotten off topic a bit."
"Nothing to forgive, Sir." The man answered quietly, voiced taut and edged in familiar energy. Awe and respect it was, then. "Everyone needs a moment to breathe and relax sometimes. I won't begrudge either of you a couple words of it. We should focus, though, even if no one minds it."
"Good man. And right too, besides." The Admiral nodded, turning back to the task at hand with a bit more finality. Firmly and with his military edge back, but still echoing the fatigue that had led them into their little digression, the man explained, "My strategists and I have decided to stage a systematic, station-wide assault along all combat lines. Orders are going out through regular channels to start it at six hundred tomorrow. Mercenaries and Coalition forces both, and we're using contacts Aria… Found elsewhere to get on-station support as well."
"So what is our job then?" He asked, the older man raising an eyebrow in response. "The line to the Admiral isn't a standard channel, sir. You're contacting us personally and that means you have something special, our ears only, in mind."
"You know me too well, it seems Lieutenant Commander. And the apple hasn't fallen far from the redheaded tree either, it would seem." He could only really shrug at that and the old admiral chuckled, giving another amused, wry shake of his old, scarred head. With a sigh, he explained, "I want you to lead a small team into Cerberus territory and attempt to move to coordinates I will give you near Aria herself. Move quietly, and avoid exposure at all costs. You will have twelve hours to get to near enough where she is and, once with her, you will lead an assault with her mercenaries and local gangs to retake Afterlife. There you will hopefully find and be able to capture General Petrovsky, the officer in charge of the siege and occupation."
"Hm." A spearhead maneuver, thrusting straight into the heart of the station in both a symbolic and a literal sense. If he was stationed there, then their command chain would feed through it, and thus be crippled with their taking it and the general. But that posed a question, "What are your orders regarding Petrovsky, sir? How should he be handled?"
"Assuming of course that you have a say in the matter." Denbei pointed out dryly, choosing then to step in, "We should take him alive if at all possible. Interrogation alone would be a substantial boon."
"Assuming of course that he can be taken captive at all, that is." He pointed out, amused at the admittedly petty humor of reusing the phrase. A tiny and dumb thing that probably shouldn't have amused him, but there it was. Ignoring the silliness of it, he went on, "Cerberus infantry have internal explosive devices that kill them when taken captive. Who is to say he doesn't as well?"
"I doubt he'd allow it." Denbei answered simply, though with a small shake of his head. He hadn't been so simply amused as he had, then. Oh well, you really couldn't win them all, and it had been a silly thing to find funny. "Reports have shown that high ranking officers, like generals, tend not to have been subjected to the normal levels of synthetic Cerberus indoctrination."
"Capture him if possible." Hackett ordered simply, easily cutting the back and forth off with the simple words. The two men snapped back to him, shoulders straight, and he nodded. "If we can get our hands on him, he'll be an invaluable source of information. Further, you are to assist her in disabling the plasma-barriers our forces are finding in the higher levels."
"Plasma, sir?"
"I don't know how they've managed it either, Doe, but our scientists are chomping at the bit to get a chance to study them." Hackett answered simply, shrugging his uniformed shoulders in a way that very clearly said he didn't much care how they got the technology. "According to Aria, they were deployed in the higher strata to defend the station. Primarily around the highest levels at first, and then descending down. We stopped them spreading throughout the station, but it is likely that you will encounter them as you go forward."
"Understood, Sir." And wasn't that a great discovery. If Cerberus was developing plasma, though, he was worried about what would happen if the technology was left alone. "Do we have a method of engagement for them?"
"Don't walk through the barriers and blow one of the generator poles producing the field." Hackett responded simply in the way military men did. Short and blunt, with little care for elaboration beyond what was needed. "Your first mission after rendezvousing with Aria will be to disable the reactor junction powering all of them. Forces in your district are thus ordered to begin skirmishing now, to cover your crossing. As are allied forces in a dozen other districts."
"Understood, Sir." Recon to find it and then simple sabotage. Right up his alley, then, and something he was geared for. "The generator is mostly likely their own design. It should be obvious comparatively, with the state of Omega's own technology."
"And heavily guarded, of course." The Lieutenant added, in what sounded like a helpful voice. "Their best forces, and probably near the top, where they had the best ground. For holding, for building, whatever the case, it'll be obvious and entrenched."
"Understood, Sir." He'd already surmised as much himself, of course, but the man was only trying to help. And you didn't spit on help. "I'll keep an eye out and get it dealt with if at all possible. When do I leave, Admiral?"
"Immediately, son. Immediately, because we can't delay your meeting Aria." The man answered, voice tight with dislike and resignation. The kind that had the ODST already sighing, resigned in the same way as the Admiral. "The last resupply carried stimulants and emergency rations that will keep you going under special protocol."
"Understood, Sir." He snapped a salute and the Admiral, no doubt needed elsewhere, cut their connection. As the blue hologram faded the room's whiter lights took over, stinging the edges of his tired peripheries but otherwise not bothering him. Turning to the special lieutenant he added quietly, "Where will my supplies be, Sir?"
"Your bunk room." The man said snappily, turning to follow him out of the room and into a hallway, past the two guards at the door. As they walked, passing by busy officers and soldiers toting supplies, weapons or furniture from wherever it had come from to wherever it was needed, he went on, "I'll have ammunition and a restock on your explosives brought to you while you eat. Alongside orders on where you're to cross during the feint assault."
"Understood." And with the he turned to leave, aiming to get some time off his feet and with his eyes closed before he had to leave. Not a lot of time, of course, but some. And who really needed more than half an hour of sleep and some stims?
Certainly not a Helljumper.
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His down time wound up being around an hour and some change, while men and women scarfed down their own food and stims and plans were made and then disseminated. The loud clattering of boots on the ground and equipment being moved didn't exactly equate to a good nap, but an hour or so with his eyes closed while stims filtered through his body and his rations processed was better than nothing. Not much so, of course, but still. Better than absolutely nothing.
Some didn't even get this out there, now, so he wouldn't complain.
"Lieutenant Commander." A guard was waiting outside his door when his alarm told him it was time to get up and mobile once again. She was small, lithe, and fully armored with a new looking Avenger across her chest. She snapped a crisp salute and he returned it, waiting to hear what she had to say, "Orders, Sir. You're with my unit for the assault. I was sent to get you."
"Ah." he could have simply been sent a message and found his own way there, but it didn't matter in the end. Not really, at least. With a wave and a shrug, he ordered, "Lead the way then, ma'am."
The Shiny - his word for someone with clean and clearly new armor, and thus not someone that had seen much deployment - gave a curt nod and gestured for him to follow her. Following her, they meandered through halls stacked high with crates and bunks, the barracks outside not enough to compensate for the additional mass of the men and women that had been brought in ahead of the assaults. Here, like he assumed everywhere else was at this point, crates had been stacked wherever possible and beds had been fit in in much the same way. Hammocks hung between high stacks, blankets and pillows had been spread across the tops of crates and in more than one location, little alcoves had been formed around balconies with blankets sectioning them off. Through the gaps he saw the insides of canvas tents pitched on the balconies and filled with even more crates, cots and weapon racks.
Impressive and depressing in two very different, but connected, ways.
Outside, Makos and other tanks he couldn't recognize trundled around the wall like school buses, stopping at the gate for their assigned forces to load into the crew compartments and then trundling off. Smaller craft, like a Krogan vehicle that looked like a motorcycle with treads rather than wheels and a rear gun mount, flanked them for escort duty as they zipped off. The taller buildings around the base were also swarming with activity, be it entrenchment or soldiers and supplies boarding gunships and Kodiak shuttles.
The perks of capturing a larger, more freight oriented space-dock was the ability to bring in armor. Maybe that was why he'd been directed roughly to this district, honestly, though he questioned why he'd been sent alone.
"Here we are! Lancer company." The woman crowed energetically as they joined her unit, loitering beside the main gate and seemingly waiting for them to get there.
Around a dozen men and women of several species. Asari and Human mainly, though with a hulking Krogan in the back leaning against the wall. It saw him looking and bowed its great head, but didn't say anything. A greeting enough for a Krogan, he supposed. The rest greeted him with a flurry of 'hellos' and the like that he returned, but no one seemed eager for a sit down session to share names and backgrounds with someone only temporarily embedded with them.
Sensible, he supposed, even if it left him feeling a bit put out.
"Lancer Company!" The small woman snapped suddenly in what had to be her best impression of a drill sergeant, dragging helmet-covered azes around to them, faces only just visible beyond their visors. She jerked her head towards the gate out and snapped a final, "Now we have our guest with us, it's time to load up. Get your gear, and grab a Mako seat. If another squad is loading up, make them move, we have priority order."
"Why's that?" The Salarian nearest to them asked, turning to retrieve a collapsed Vindicator.
"Dunno." The woman answered, abandoning her attempt to play the drill sergeant and shrugging more simply and honestly, acting more like he suspected she generally was. In a way, she reminded him of Shepard with her exuberance, untempered as yet by what was coming. "But this guy," she jerked a thumb over her shoulder at him, stood behind her and with his Harrier across his chest, "has orders attached that gives him priority. Top tier orders, too. Kind that come from the Admiral or the Coalition Council. So get your gear and get in a tank, ladies, gentlemen and various sized Krogan."
That earned a quiet round of chuckles as the soldiers gathered their gear and stepped out. Another unit had half-loaded into a Mako, flanked by a couple Krogan bikes, but the young woman saw to that quickly enough. A brief shouting match erupted from tense soldiers, but a quick pull of his rank and ancillary allowances ended it, aside from sour looks and quiet grumbling. Soon after, they were loaded up onto it and, aside from a minor delay to them and their allies waiting in line behind them, they were on their way without any problems.
Well, minus the 'headed into a warzone' problem, of course, but that was a matter of course for him.
"We're here. Krak, Levanas, you're out first. Sweep the area with the biker boys and then we'll unload." The woman, a corporal apparently but somehow already in charge of her own squad, ordered crisply. "Orders from the top, we have to protect the Lieutenant Commander, in the interests of Operation Hades."
A small chorus of grunted 'Ma'ams' echoed through the interior of the Mako, from even the pilot and the gunnery officer sitting at the turret controls. His voice didn't join them, not particularly enthused about being babysat even for the moment. But as they filed out he nodded to the Asari and pounded a fist to his breast for the Krogan. The latter, at least, hesitated before returning his gesture. Caught off guard by the display of respect from someone technically his superior, the Warrior added a deep inclination of his head to the gesture before he left, baring the side of his head to the smaller man.
A sign of respect and admiration, he knew from his reading material, sent to him by the slowly reforming Krogan priesthood. He'd not gotten any of it until boarding the Everest, of course, and so it had been stockpiled in his accounts and files. Once aboard the ship, though, and with nothing to do...
Well, he'd had time to do the reading and then some.
A few minutes passed before a heavy, meaty fist banged on the door outside and the corporal grunted a quiet, "All's clear. Load out, and prepare to stage the assault on the bulkheads. Ten minutes to launch."
At her words, they did so, with him waiting at a signal until the others had all unloaded and spread out. Then he followed, stepping into the dimly lit streets of a more cramped and slummy looking quarter of the district. The buildings were squat, poorly maintained and, in places, looked on the verge of outright collapse, teetering over the streets around them. High overhead a gunship circled, providing them their aerial recon and dropping soldiers off on the surrounding buildings as fallback defenders, for if their attack failed and Cerberus countered. An outcome whose likelihood was unfortunately high, given the real reason behind his attendance was to desert the line as soon as they broke through.
He disliked that part of the plan but orders were orders, after all, and good soldiers followed orders.
The road ended in a steep wall that climbed high into the purely proverbial sky and vanished out of sight, spindled by landing pads buzzing with gunships dropping off units to breach there. Catwalks, ladders and even outright buildings pockmarked the high wal that divided the massive station compartments and in places he could already make out the muted flash of rifle fire where battles had already sparked. At the end of their street a high, curved arch held an indented door like a bank vault, sealed and heavily armored. Lancer Company was already filtering towards it with the Mako's heavy cannon oriented on it.
"Alright boys and girls, get ready for us to pop the-"
The corporal's words were cut off as the massive vault door surged toward them suddenly, grinding out with the sound of metal on metal and grinding gears. The woman barked an order to instead prepare as the door slid open and they fanned out, the squad sprinkling itself behind parked cars or the corners of buildings. He himself took cover behind the tank, Harrier ready and eyes hard.
"Hold fire until you confirm your targets!" The corporal ordered, kneeling behind a car a dozen feet ahead of him. "Focus on officers as you locate them and watch for Phantoms and Dragoons! They'll flank and rip us apart if we let them!"
Dragons, he knew from more of the reading material, were a Biotic assault unit more dedicated to the front line than Phantoms. Though they were apparently rarer, and he hadn't had the fortune of fighting any, he'd read enough in the reports he'd been given to be wary of them. But he felt confident that the Mako's heavy cannon would make short work of them. Man-sized Biotic barriers didn't tend to hold up well against heavy mass accelerators or heavy machine guns.
Before the door even opened, though, they heard the feral howling and shrieking.
"Reapers!?" The corporal's shout was equal part warning and terrified question as clearly synthetic blue arms gripped at the edged and bulbous bodies pulled themselves through the spreading gap. Several stumbled forward awkwardle on fleshy, meaty legs, hissing and chittering as they went, and she ordered, somewhat needlessly, "Open fire!"
Adjutants - he'd read of them in Aria's own information packets, detailing the initial fall of Omega - scrambled forward as their rifles tore into them. Blackened blood sprayed as the dozen or so creatures' in the front line's barriers sparked and fell, and the heavy thump of the Mako cannon sent three spiraling in a dozen chunks through the air. Then their arms snapped up and electric balls of Eezo, or what looked like it, sparked across the area.
"Gah!" One of the soldiers, the Salarian from before, barked as the round bit into him. Initially he staggered back, coughing as he was forced from cover, but then he was wrenched forward. Past his fellows and into the line of the Reapers, disappearing under them with a howl of pain that the synthetics matched, some turning to carry him back while the rest pushed on.
"Veeran!" The corporal cried, standing taller and firing into the mass, trying her best to reach him.
"Explosives going out!" The ODST howled, loping forward with several of the heavy detonators in his hand.
The charges sailed through the air and landed among the mass as an Eezo round hurled him onto his back. Before it could wrench him forward, though, he set them off. Fire and wind rushed past him as the howling was washed away. Though the din of mass accelerator fire never stopped, even as he staggered up and looked to the fire that had washed the doorway clean of Reapers.
"Forward!" The Corporal ordered snappily, not one to waste the opening he had bought them. "Mako front, sweeping arc of fire! Biotics to the fore, get a barrier up to ward off incoming fire!"
The soldiers snapped off a chorus of 'Ayes' that this time he joined, forming up along with the company behind the tank as it pushed forward. The next leg of the assault of Omega was under way and, apparently, the Adjutants were still on the station. That, he imagined, would infuriate Aria once she found out. Which was all well and good, he figured.
Because it had pissed him off too.
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Apologies for the late update today, birthday last week threw off my writing shifts a little bit.