Chapter 5
Attrition
1500 Hours - UNSC Military Standard Time :: 1300 Hours - Magma V Central Standard Time
March 15, 2551 (Military Calendar)/
GH-5 Star System. Magma V
'North Death Valley' forest.
Force-Sergeant Zhaojun Wang was in the middle of a brutal fight. Not against Covenant, but against sleep. For the hundredth time in the past 2 hours, she adjusted her scope. Trying to focus her mind on any task, no matter how small. After all this time, her insomnia was finally receding for a moment - receding while she was alone and without a partner to split a shift with. Closest thing she had to a teammate right now was Scat. And the little beast was sleeping on its back a few feet away, its fat belly slowly rising up and down as it snored lightly.
Zhaojun sighed. Overwatch. One of the most important - and boring - jobs that a sniper could do. Out ahead of her was a seemingly endless forest that stretched as far as she could see. Zhaojun was perched on the side of a small mountain overlooking a section of the forest that separated the task force from the Covenant spires in the far distance. Waiting and watching. Had crawled into the position after that first major battle. Had been there since. Keeping an eye on things. Keeping an eye out for enemies.
Normally, Zhaojun would be taking shifts with her partner. But Caecin had never reported in. He'd been listed as MIA. So Zhaojun was running solo for the foreseeable future.
Something caught her eye across the valley on the opposite side. It was probably nothing. Probably just the rain, which never seemed to end.
Zhaojun shook her head. I can't afford to be slacking. Not now. Slowly, she adjusted her rifle until it was lined up on where she'd seen the flicker of light. Then readjusted her scope once again. Magnified her visor's zoom by three times. She saw wood. Trees and vegetation. Green foliage. Nothing of interest, so far. She set her eyes slightly off-center, then slowly scanned from left to right in a grid-like pattern. Not really looking at any one object in particular, but letting her gaze register the general shape of everything she looked at. There weren't any surefire tricks to spotting - ultimately, it boiled down to noticing unusual patterns in the environment. Noticing unnatural shapes, like straight lines that might be artificial. Looking for the glint of light bouncing off metallic surfaces.
"Alpha-Lead to Delta-2," Zhaojun's radio crackled. The voice was a little spotty. She kept her eyes glued to that spot on the far side of the valley. Took her TACPAD and set it next to her rifle, fine-tuned the frequency by just a tad.
"Delta-2 here. Reading you loud and clear. Go ahead."
"Check your sectors," Alpha lead came back, his voice much clearer than before. "We're getting reports of enemy scouts possibly encroaching toward quadrant W-Niner. Trooper patrol team just took a hit; unknown contact. How copy?"
"Solid copy. I'm already on it. Be advised: Possible enemy hide site at grid..." Zhaojun mentally recalled her updated map. Calculated the coordinates based on her current location and used her HUD's range-finder for the distance. "Lima-22." She fed the data into her TACPAD while still scanning. Normally, Caecin would have already done that. But without him, she had to fulfill his role as well as her own, and it wasn't easy.
"Affirmative," Alpha-Lead replied. There was a moment; something was briefly discussed in the background. Zhaojun couldn't discern what was said. "ROE is fire-at-will. Engage enemy targets as you find them. Good luck, Delta-2; Alpha-Lead out."
The COM automatically shut off.
Zhaojun swallowed. Covenant snipers weren't the best... But they were still snipers. They don't miss. And their beam rifles were more accurate than anything the FSDC could produce.
Still, Zhaojun hadn't spotted anything particularly out of the ordinary. Not yet, anyway. She mulled over what Alpha-Lead said. Unknown contact... So the Covenant were definitely deploying their snipers. Which meant that they intended to take this ground campaign seriously. W-Niner was to her 12 o'clock by a couple kilometers and slightly to the east. Ahead of the main task-force positions. Zhaojun shook her head and scratched at an eyebrow. Tried to run a number of rough calculations in her head. Tried to isolate variables. Then mentally discarded the exercise.
Not because she couldn't do the math - she could - but because she again spotted a flicker of light across the valley. An unmistakable metallic flicker.
Very slowly and very carefully, Zhaojun transitioned to her rifle scope, leaning into the gun until her visor was lined up with the scope. Very slowly adjusted her aim until she found that glint of light once again. It was buried deep behind multiple layers of bushes and trees. Almost impossible to identify. The rain obscured her vision even more. But that glint was there, nonetheless.
She didn't go for the shot. Not yet, anyway. Covenant snipers weren't the best - but, of course, they were still snipers. Zhaojun couldn't ignore the possibility that she was currently looking at a decoy. Covenant weren't particularly known to deploy those kinds of tactics, but it wasn't unheard of. And one important rule Zhaojun had learned back in scout school was that, if she thought of it, then it was safe to assume that the enemy also thought of it. And Zhaojun had multiple decoy hide sites prepped along the mountain surrounding her current position.
Zhaojun didn't want to wait though. In spite of all her training, she'd never been that good at patience. She reactivated her COM system. Kicked the volume up just a tad.
"Delta-2 to Alpha-Lead."
"This is Alpha-Lead, reading you loud and clear. Go ahead, Delta-2."
Zhaojun slid her map over to read it better. "Requesting 3-shell ordinance screening; coordinates 31:-84."
"Solid copy, Delta-2. Hold one."
She waited a beat. Checked the time on her wrist-chronometer. Then set a countdown from 5-seconds on standby.
"Request granted, Delta-2. 2nd Bravo-Six to send 3 155 Mick Mick 'Jailbirds' at 31:-84. Confirm."
"Confirmed," Zhaojun replied. She checked her rifle to make certain the aim was set. Used her thumb to clean raindrops off the scope lens.
"Check time off mark: rounds sending in 5... 4... 3... 2... Mark."
Zhaojun activated her chronometer countdown. At the same time, a collage of distinct thuds sounded in the distance. She readied herself on the gun, allowing her posture to relax. Conformed herself to the ground. Let one hand keep her stable, the other hand resting with a finger by the trigger.
The moment her countdown touched 0, a trio of explosions rocked the forest not far from her position. Sent big plumes of dirt and grit into the air. Blew away a few trees. She used the explosions as a mask and fired her gun. Quickly loaded another round and fired again. Nobody would have heard the gunshots. And there would be no muzzle flash. Not in this hazy weather, and not from a gun fitted with a shrouder. Two seconds later, her rounds struck the target all the way across the valley. Something erupted, but she couldn't yet discern what. But the metallic glint was gone.
"Think you hit him?"
Zhaojun swiveled onto her back, sidearm raised and pointing directly at the helmet of an ODST. She instinctively frowned. Gritted her teeth. She recognized who it was. And wasn't pleased at all.
"What the hell are you doing here!?" she demanded. Zhaojun was pissed for two reasons: that she'd been too focused and had allowed someone to creep up on her. And that her position was compromised.
"Orders," Staff Sergeant Mago Rictus replied. He was lying prone, buried beneath a shroud of shrubs behind and above Zhaojun's pit.
"Fuck your orders! We're sitting ducks!"
"Chill," he said, de-polarizing his visor. His grey eyes were looking out across the valley in the direction of the suspected enemy sniper. "If there're snipers out there, they won't have seen me. I can promise that. I'd probably be dead otherwise."
Then he looked down at her. Seriousness in his eyes. "Put that gun away."
Zhaojun slid her pistol back into it's holster. But she kept her eyes on Rictus. Watched him closely.
Scat had woken up, sitting on its hind legs as it glared at Rictus. Ready to pounce. It did one of its throaty growls. Like a threat.
"I won't even ask what that is," Rictus remarked, eyeing Scat warily.
"Answer my question. Now."
"Long story short - Lieutenant Nyxa's prepping an op. We need a shooter. Got word that you're the best," Rictus said with a note of admiration. "So you got picked. I'm here because they needed someone to find you. It wasn't easy."
"And you've been here how long?"
He sighed. "That doesn't matter."
"Well, you could've just ordered me RTB through Alpha-Lead."
Rictus shook his head. "We're not going back to base. We've got a nice little staging site set up, several clicks south of here on the far side of those hills," Rictus gestured toward the other side of the valley. "It's a hell of a hike."
Zhaojun took a moment to process the information. Questions ran through her mind.
Rictus shrugged. "Not like you're doing much here anyway. And orders are orders."
True. "Ohkay then," Zhaojun told him. "But we're making a detour first." Zhaojun could see the exasperation on his face.
Rictus sighed. "We don't have time to play games."
"I'm not playing any games. It's standard procedure: I have to do confirmations after leaving post if I engage enemy snipers. And you just watched me engage one."
"What, so we have to go there ourselves?"
"Yep, since we don't have our Wombats in the air. We investigate the location. If I killed something, I need to confirm and report it. If I hit it, but it's still alive and running around, I need to confirm and report it. So on and so forth."
Zhaojun wasn't particularly in the mood to explain all the rules and procedures followed by snipers. It'd take all day, and Zhaojun simply didn't have the patience. Typically, the role of contact-investigation would be carried out by any available UAVs on-site. To provide aerial scanning. It was a lot safer and easier; UAVs could do basic spotter-work, could identify enemy weapons, infantry, vehicles and so on. But ever since the invasion started, the Combined Fleet hadn't been able to establish any air-superiority at all. And so for the time being, Zhaojun had to do those jobs herself. It was a part of being a scout sniper. Normally Zhaojun would at least have her teammate Caecin with her. But without him... She'd have to rely on Rictus.
There were worse allies, Zhaojun admitted. Though she still didn't much care for him.
"That's... Inconvenient," he whispered. "And dangerous."
She shrugged. "You're an ODST. You've done things like that before. Right?"
"On occasion."
"Give me a second to break this stuff down," she told him. Before she could get to work, he stopped her.
"Uh..." Rictus pointed to Scat, who was still growling. "Your friend won't be attending us on the op. That's not negotiable."
"We'll see."
Several hours later, Zhaojun was crawling into yet another overwatch position. This one was on that opposite side of the valley. Roughly 100 meters away from the suspected enemy sniper position. Slowly lifted her rifle onto a large root protruding from the ground, letting it rest as she went prone up against the tree. Swapped out her scope for a shorter distance variant. Adjusted it and took aim. Took a second to watch Scat crawl up next to her and then blend into the environment. Far ahead, she could just barely discern Mago Rictus crawling to within CQB distance of the enemy position. Usually, Caecin would've had that job. The hands-on job. It was particularly risky for multiple reasons. Enemy combatants could place traps, lay ambushes, so on and so forth. But Rictus had been more than willing to take on the role. Zhaojun would do her best to keep him safe from her vantage point. If anything attacked, it was her job to provide covering fire.
She activated her localized OPCOM. "See anything?"
There was a moment's delay before Rictus replied. "Looks like a dugout. Ten meters ahead of me. Moving to secure."
"Hold on."
"What? It's right here in front of me."
Zhaojun scratched at her eyebrow. "You've got your M7S?"
"... Of course," he replied drily.
She sighted on the back of Rictus's head then aimed at the bushes past his shoulders. There was a lot of dense foliage and wood surrounding what looked like the dugout. And that dugout was located in a relatively open area of field.
That was a red flag.
"Fire into the treeline on the far side of the dugout."
There was a moment's hesitation. Zhaojun was about to tell him to stop wasting time. But then she spotted him rise to his knees, unloading half a magazine from the hip. Bushes were cut down as though someone had taken a machete to them. A second of quietness went by. Then there was the briefest flash of movement. A shadow, leaping from the ground into the treeline above. Several of them. Too fast for Zhaojun to track them. But she'd caught the unmistakable glint of metallic Covenant weaponry.
Jackals. More than one.
"Get down!" Zhaojun shouted.
Rictus was already rolling into cover. Just in time. High-powered beams of energy pierced the air where he'd been seconds prior. A firepower mixture of beam rifles and carbine rifles. Based on the weapon signatures, Zhaojun estimated at least four enemy targets. She followed the trajectory from one in particular. Traced it to a tree branch sitting over a dozen meters off the ground. Could barely discern the shadow silhouetted behind a thicket of leaves. She fired. Scored a direct hit. The jackal was falling to the ground as she fed another round in the chamber. Before it fell out of sight, she fired again and hit it a second time mid-air. Making sure it was dead.
Zhaojun loaded up and fired another trio of rounds in rapid succession, trying to provide some suppressive fire. More movement occurred in the treeline. The jackals were switching positions. Quickly, too. Zhaojun needed to move herself. But she couldn't just yet. Rictus was nowhere in sight, and she needed his position. "Where are you?"
There was no response, but Zhaojun thought she could just make out the quiet puffs of an M7S trading fire with the skirmishers. Situation was looking worse. Rictus was likely pinned somewhere. They'd get his flank before long. Zhaojun needed his location to prevent that from happening.
"Talk to me, dammit!"
This time he came back, his voice breathless and strained. "I got two of 'em! Last contact somewhere at your 3 o'clock. I don't -" An explosion swallowed the COM, and Zhaojun saw it through the scope of her rifle.
The bluish hue of a plasma detonation rippled the air toward the right. She swiveled her aim in that direction and spotted Rictus dive into cover, roll around the side of a tree, and open fire at an unseen target - the one at her 3 o'clock. Return fire forced him back into cover. Pinned Rictus into position again behind the tree. Zhaojun followed the plasma beam trajectory. Immediately fired. The beam rifle stopped shooting. But Zhaojun didn't see a body drop. She loaded another shot. Seconds later, she spotted the jackal leap to the ground. Trying to sprint deeper into the woods. It was fast, too. But not fast enough. Zhaojun fired again, aiming for center-mass. And the shot didn't hit.
Or, rather, it did... The shot flew through the holographic decoy before exploding through the base of a tree several yards ahead of it.
It was a fake. One of the hologram projectors skirmishers use to send out identical 'copies' of themselves as decoys. To bait out shots. Zhaojun instinctively backed down behind cover. Roughly a split-second before a shot from a beam rifle split the air just above her. Right where her head had been. Heat from the round washed over her like a miniature star. A red warning sigil flashed on her HUD. And she closed her eyes a moment to keep from panicking.
The sniper was clever.
Zhaojun quickly fed a round into the chamber then rolled to the right. Brought her gun back up to bear. Fired on where the jackal had been, but didn't hit anything. It'd already moved.
"Damn it," she muttered.
"Say again," Mago's voice came in over the COM.
"I said fall back!"
"I can't. He's got me pinned here still. Can you get a shot?"
"Where is he?"
Silence - Mago didn't have its position. And that silence stretched for at least 10 minutes. Then that 10 minutes stretched into a whole hour.
It felt like a whole day. Zhaojun spent it slithering away from her previous position, crawling along with Scat toward the right flank. Keeping her head as low as possible and moving slowly. She heard the distinct phoosh of another beam rifle shot. Then two more. The jackal didn't seem willing to back off, even with its buddies dead. Maybe it wanted revenge.
"Directly ahead of me," Rictus finally came back, his breathing heavy and his voice barely a whisper. She could hear the fear in his voice... And she was afraid herself. "Posted in a tower. It's camouflaged, but he's there."
Zhaojun took a second to swipe at the insect crawling along her arm. Sent it flying. Scat caught it mid-air and swallowed it whole. Gross. Then she rolled over onto her side. Fumbled around in her backpack until she produced a small camera. She extended one end of it, then connected the feed to a port on the side of her helmet. Her HUD sectioned off like a picture-in-picture mode, with the smaller zone having a direct link with the camera. She maximized the FOV, then slowly pushed the camera lens up and out of cover. To get eyes on Rictus without exposing herself. She spotted his FOF tag floating above a dark patch of ground behind a tree to her 1 o'clock; he was dug-in deep within cover.
With his frame of reference in mind, Zhaojun shifted the camera slowly, trying to pinpoint the jackal's location.
"In front of you?" she asked for clarification.
"Mhmm. My 12 o'clock. Twenty-five meters out or so, li-like... Like 15 meters off ground level."
Zhaojun tried to hone in on the location. But she couldn't spot anything. It was possible her line-of-sight was being blocked by a pair of trees in-between her and the suspected target location. "Is he still there?"
"Far as I know."
Ohkay. That didn't help much. Zhaojun switched optics to infrared. And that didn't help much either. Bright red and yellow heat spots were all over the place.
This wasn't working, and Zhaojun was tired of waiting. "Let's try something," Zhaojun suggested, reducing the camera-feed to a small box on the right side of her HUD. Then she chambered another round.
"Like what?" Rictus asked hesitantly.
"Take off your helmet."
There was a moment's hesitation as Rictus considered her words. "You want me to bait out a shot?" His voice was barely audible.
"Uh... No shit. Stop fucking wasting time."
She waited for his response, but there was none. Instead, she spotted his helmet slowly rise up out of cover. It was seated on the end of his M7S barrel. Rictus edged the helmet into the open. At the same time, Zhaojun set her rifle and got ready to fire. She inched out of cover, minimizing her signature as humanly possible. Tried to calm her shaking hands, to no avail.
But the jackal never took the shot. Seconds went by, and Rictus slowly brought his helmet back into cover.
"He's not gonna bite," Rictus sighed over the COM. "I've got something for him though," Rictus continued. "Keep watch and make sure he doesn't move."
"What're you up to?" She asked.
Rictus didn't respond.
"Gonna go cowboy mode on him?" Zhaojun asked. Still, no response.
"You ignoring me?"
Rictus still didn't say anything.
She sighted on his position. Flipped her gun's safety on. "Don't make me send one. I'll do it."
"I don't appreciate having a gun pointed at me," he finally responded, a note of anger etched in his voice.
Zhaojun smiled. "How do you know I'm aiming at you?"
"I need you to focus. I'm gonna flush him out. Firing 1 HE round, on my mark."
Zhaojun thumbed her safety back off. She'd forgotten Rictus liked to carry around some type of specially-made grenade launcher.
"5... 4... 3... 2... 1... Mark."
A distinct thump sounded off. Zhaojun witnessed the HE round sail through the air. It disappeared from her line-of-sight, blocked from view by a single wide tree. Then it detonated, the explosion rippling in mid-air. Fire and shrapnel rippled out in shockwaves, sending branches flying out omnidirectionally. At least two trees were split and toppled over; the sound reminded Zhaojun of her old job with Izepeda Transmigratory Services, when crates would topple over in a heap. She finally spotted the jackal leaping through the air, attempting to escape. This time, it wouldn't be a fake. It flew from one tree to the next. Zhaojun tracked it... But hitting a moving target was quite difficult. And she only had a few seconds before the jackal escaped from sight altogether.
"Shoot him already," she heard Rictus say over the COM.
This time, Zhaojun ignored him. Focused on the target. She timed her shot for when the jackal made another leap. It hopped from one spot to the next, the beam rifle strapped to its back glinting in sunlight. She fired - and the round connected at center-mass, tearing through the jackal's armor and sending it toppling to the ground. Had to be a kill-shot.
"Think you hit him?"
Zhaojun exhaled. "That's the second time you've asked me that," she said over the COM.
"Hm. Fine work. Really."
"We should report this before we move on," Zhaojun told him, setting up on her knees. Scat materialized beside her. It sat up on its hind legs. Mimicking her yet again. "I don't really like Covenant scout parties moving around this close to our lines."
"On it," Rictus said. "In the meantime, regroup on me. We're behind schedule."
Tightrope
2120 Hours - UNSC Military Standard Time :: 1920 Hours - Magma V Central Standard Time
March 15, 2551 (Military Calendar)/
GH-5 Star System. Close orbit above Magma V
'Combined Fleet' Orion-class carrier UNSC First Salient March
First Lieutenant Nees Khulaisle switched her thrusters to 2% beneath lift output. Then thumbed her control knob to manual. The side-stick extended from its mount to her lefthand side, and she tabbed through her multi-function display until all its controls were activated. An alert appeared on her flight-management-module:
F-41C-SYSTEM PREP LEVEL 100%
PRIMARY AND SECONDARY ENGINE FUNCTION STATUS: GREEN
VTOL MOTOR FUNCTION STATUS: GREEN
QUERY: INITIATE DOCK DETACHMENT SEQUENCE?
Y / N
Nees took a long breath. Steadied her hands. This is what I trained for. No sense gettin' spooked now. She reached over to her primary control panel and selected Y.
"Initiating dock detachment sequence; standby," her onboard computer spoke.
"I'm 'ere waitin'," she whispered, even though she knew it couldn't respond.
Seconds later, her F-41C Broadsword shook violently as external security clamps released it from its docking bay holster. Thrusters automatically increased efficiency by 2%, causing her broadsword to lift from the deck by a couple feet. Dozens of other craft in the hangar similarly loosed their security clamps. All of them rose to just above 3 feet before maintaining that position. Satisfied, Nees prepped her attitude control system for exo-atmospheric stabilization thrusters. Set them to activate automatically upon leaving the First Salient March's hangar. Then, she took a moment to relax in her seat. Pulled off her helmet for a second to pop a Marshpellet gummy into her mouth. Savored the taste. Then put her helmet back on. Then turned up the volume on her COM and waited.
Nees flipped through her various internal cameras. It was always a bit disorienting to see herself in real-time from up close, unorthodox angles. Her face was hidden behind her helmet, but she could easily imagine the nervous expression on it. If she survived the next couple hours and made it back alive, she'd be grateful that her camera feed wouldn't capture anything but her dark visor. Nees reached into a pocket and produced a holo-still; it was an image taken from Nees's second year at the Reach Naval Academy. Sitting there on a couch with a grin. Laughing it up in celebration with other cadets. Friends. All of whom had either branched off on their own career paths, or had died by now. Nees had the grave suspicion that it was her turn to be added to that infamous KIA column, and she wasn't ready.
About a minute later, Lieutenant Colonel Dune Seccaroph's voice came in over the localized Battlenet OPCOM.
"Raptor Lead to all Raptor elements - receive: sortie commencement in L-minus 221 seconds," Seccaroph spoke calmly. His voice was weathered from years of active duty service. Nees didn't need to see him to know that Seccaroph had the composure of someone unafraid of death. "Viper flight is already spaceborne; we will be assuming their security prior to atmospheric entry. Covenant patrol squadrons have been reported in the AO. So expect contact before we perform entry. Acknowledge."
Fifty-nine blue acknowledgment lights winked on the flight-management-module, including Nees's own. Looking out the cockpit, she could also see those same blue LEDs floating above the other broadswords as her canopy reflected her HUD elements like a holo-screen.
"Remember everyone: this is a short trip. As soon as Viper knocks out those scarabs, scram back to RV Tango. If you haven't already," Seccaroph continued. "Say a prayer."
"SWACS to Raptor Lead," a new voice cut in. This one was a lot younger than Seccaroph's, and a lot more excited. "Be advised: multiple bandits detected on the LIDAR and AESA super-high frequency. Reference SWACS-bullseye, bearing 045, 180; range 2 ticks and encroaching toward Viper flight. Escape velocity. Transmitting system-feed to all Raptor elements now."
Nees felt her hands grow sweaty and her heartbeat jump. Bandits, rising from the surface and heading toward Viper? Covenant are going full-aggro. Oh no. She quickly pulled her helmet off to pop another marshpellet. It didn't do anything to calm her nerves.
"Receiving SWACS system-feed. Upload to MFD?" the computer asked Nees. Unemotional and unaware of how dangerous the situation had gotten. As always.
"Yeh... 'Gwan 'n do that."
A moment later, her multi-function display overlay split into 2 viewscreens. The top one was a visual recording taken from an external camera mounted onto the Spaceflight-Warning, Action, Control Systems vessel holding position just beyond the First Salient March. Half of the screen was taken up by the giant dark-maroon orb of Magma V. A pair of small white square icons materialized on a specific point near Magma V's surface. The boxes slowly shifted upwards across the screen, bleeding into Magma V's atmosphere. Then the video looped back to the start, lasting roughly 15 seconds in total. A timestamp at the bottom of the feed read 2115 MST. The bottom viewscreen showed the accompanying radar data, essentially providing her a XYZ-axis spacetime location representation of the targets. There were 100 in total. They were pushing up close into 'No Man's Space' - the region of space surrounding Magma V that contained no major vessels of either the Covenant or UNSC fleet. Most of it was within effective weapons range of both fleet's primary guns, and so it could only be 'safely' traversed by smaller vessels and strike craft. Anything that would be almost impossible to hit with large ordinance.
"Wolfhound and Tigershark squadrons are already moving to intercept. Advise you commence sortie now, Raptor Lead," SWACS finished.
"Affirmative," Seccaroph replied. "Requesting permission to launch."
"Launching bay reports ready. Cleared for takeoff, Raptor flight. Godspeed."
"Solid copy, SWACS. All Raptor elements, switch to SQC Battlenet and activate EAS thrusters. Keep radio chatter to a minimum - first sortie of Operation: TIGHTROPE is a go. Time to make some hazard pay."
The next couple minutes were a blur. Across the hangar bay, broadswords slowly lifted further from the deck by way of VTOL thrusters before spilling out into the blackness of space. Goosebumps ran the length of Nees's arms and back. She left the relative safety of the First Salient March hangar, finding herself enshrouded on all sides by void. Void, and other starships. The SQC - Squadron Quick-Chatter - was filled with the voices of virtually all pilots active in the battlespace. Patrol orders, interception encounters, starship position reports and so on. Nees's computer automatically filtered out the bulk of it, condensing the signal relays until she could only hear Raptor and Viper flights. Typically, her comms suite would primarily be one other person - the squadron lead. But TIGHTROPE was a large-scale series of deployments, and Raptor squadron was 60 F-41C Broadswords strong, with several other similarly-sized squadrons already deployed and in the void - including Viper.
Seccaroph pinged a general command that scrolled up a side-screen on Nees's PFD. Assume staggered dual-spread formation; 6x10 split 3; S - 36MMPS. So she made micro-adjustments to her trajectory, assuming a position at the center of the formation where she could see the lieutenant colonel in front of her. Checked her speed and locked it to 36MMPS. Her hands still shook as she tapped the various controls.
"Raptor 1-7, check your PT angles... You're drifting 2 degrees zeta," another pilot reported.
Damn. Nees quickly micro-tapped her sidestick and leveled up on the rear of the broadsword ahead of her. She hadn't imagined her nerves would be this bad.
"Jeez. And people wonder why you newbies always die so fast," the pilot added.
"I said to keep radio chatter to a minimum, 1-8." Lieutenant Colonel Seccaroph chastised the pilot. "Stop yapping so much, you might finally get better than a 75 on the simulators. Might actually catch up to Khulaisle's score."
"Oooh! He got you, 1-8," another pilot said. Multiple others laughed over the COM.
Nees smiled. It didn't take away the nerves. But she appreciated the colonel nonetheless. Only a few months had passed since Nees transferred from the training battalion to the 141st. Since that time, her only 'action' had been more training simulations and practice dogfights, both close-visiual-range and beyond-visual-range. The Admiral had been keeping most broadsword squadrons in reserve so far, and so she hadn't even participated in the initial space battle back when the fleet had first arrived.
Several minutes went by. Most of it filled with occasional SWACS status reports and location registries. Keeping track of small fighter-sized objects in space was a difficult task and required a lot of computer-assisted mathematics. Because it was practically impossible to directly see objects unless at extremely close ranges. And so most sensing equipment relied on standard radars, infrared sensors and the like, as well as relatively new 'gravitic destabilization' sensors. A cutting-edge tracking system that detected subtle fluctuations in local geodesics. But vessels like Nees's broadsword only came fitted with the usual radar packages found on most UNSC ships. Able to detect most vessels within a number of distance settings. SWACS, on the other hand, was strapped with a number of more advanced sensory tech and a smart AI. Not only could it pinpoint exact locations far more accurately - it could do so in near real-time with the use of gravitic sensors, which was a massive advantage on interplanetary scales where information could usually only travel at up to lightspeed. So Nees and the rest of Raptor flight ultimately relied on constant NAV marker updates from SWACS for the positioning of Viper flight. Up until they fell into a defensive formation surrounding the bombers.
When that happened, a new marker appeared on Nees's canopy - this one a red diamond shape. Located off her starboard side at roughly 80,000 kilometers. Two smaller green icons floated near it, representing Tigershark and Wolfhound fighter squadrons. Nees couldn't see any of the vessels directly, even when she magnified her HUD settings to max. But she could just barely discern the brief flashes of explosions dissolving almost immediately against the backdrop of space. They were in combat, and it looked like close-range. Bitter and brutal. Both Tigershark and Wolfhound together were about 80 or so fighters strong. Which meant they were outnumbered against the Covenant.
"SWACS to Raptor Lead," the SWACS operator came in, that same excitement in her voice. "Wolfhound and Tigershark are requesting assistance. We have two Hound-gunboats en route, but they're 30 minutes off. Captain Markoff is ordering you shift two teams in support. How copy?"
"Solid copy, SWACS. Teams 5 and 6 - that's you," Seccaroph ordered. "Everyone else, tighten up. We're entering the stratosphere in 30."
Acknowledgment lights winked blue again. Twenty broadswords broke formation and headed toward the fighting. Nees was part of first team, headed by the Lieutenant Colonel himself. So she didn't have to split from formation. But she had the sinking feeling that it was only a matter of time before the formation itself would be directly engaged.
Nees's onboard computer came to life.
"Prepare for stratosphere entry. Automatic stabilization emitters have been activated."
Heat began flicking along the outer hull of her broadsword. At first, it was mostly just the standard vibrating and instrument-shaking typical of orbital entries. Then it grew a lot more violent. And Nees, herself, grew a lot more heavy. That was because of gravity. One of the universe's great equalizers. Flames began to kick up around the broadsword, and Nees rushed to tap in the appropriate commands. She diverted energy from her primary thrusters to all four of her cooling units. And then she reset her canopy viewport, because the HUD was starting to flicker uncontrollably due to Magma V's electromagnetic field strength. Then it shut off. Her primary function display took longer than usual to report: the canopy HUD would take 30 seconds to restart. Not good, but not bad either. Seccaroph said something over the COM, but it was washed out with static. Nees attempted to spot his - or anyone else's - broadsword visually. But all she could see was fire. And beyond that, the faintest glimpse of stormclouds coming into view.
Nees locked her sidestick and let the autopilot guide the rest of the entry. For the next several seconds, she rode a brutal roller-coaster down into Magma V. Except this was no amusement ride. She wished she could pop another marshpellet into her mouth. But that would have to wait.
A low series of beeps sounded within the cockpit. Her canopy HUD finally reloaded. Just as the fires dispersed and the shaking subsided. It gave her a tactical layout of just what the hell she was looking at. Thankfully, her broadsword was still in formation. She was situated toward the rear end of first team, posted at the outer edge of a wedge formation of all Raptor interceptors. Small blue diamonds animated across the canopy, each identifying the Raptor broadswords with their accompanying flight tags. Center of the formation was a tightly-packed group of B-65 Shortsword bombers - callsign 'Viper' for the duration of TIGHTROPE. Twenty of them in total.
"Successful atmospheric entry. Altitude orders: drop to 20,000 feet. Automatic adjustment enabled," the onboard computer reported.
Together, the entire formation burst through Magma V's upper cloudline and finally entered its airspace. Nees readjusted energy output to balanced, then reactivated manual flight-control and took control of the sidestick. She slightly yawed until at a slight off-angle behind the broadsword in front, then pulled back until she leveled out with the rest of the team, noting with familiarity that from now on, she'd be fighting G forces.
Things got wild almost immediately. Even before Nees had a chance to actually look at the surface of Magma V for the first time.
"Detecting multiple SAM launches at 400 kilometers," Seccaroph alerted over the COM. "And we've got bandits on fast-approach. Check your primary displays."
Surface-to-Air-Missiles, and Nees's PFD buzzed in warning. They got me locked up already!? Her radar system tracked at least 50 blips, and two of them were yellow - signifying they were tracking her broadsword. Those were the plasma missiles. Two small yellow squares appeared on the canopy at Nees's 2 O'clock. Even smaller distance-estimations appeared next to them. Nees selected them on the HUD and increased their size by 15%. At the same time, another series of beeps resounded. Then her radar picked up thirty more targets, these showing up as white blips off to the east. This time, small white squares appeared on the canopy at 3 O'clock.
Nees had been holding her breath and her hands had been shaking uncontrollably. She was already panicking, and the mission had only just begun. She swallowed. Both her mouth and lips felt dry as a desert.
"Raptor Leader," a voice came in on the COM. This was Raptor 3-1, the leader of third team. "I think these bandits wanna fight. I also think they don't know who the hell they're messin' with." To Nees's surprise, 3-1's voice sounded eager. Like he was having fun.
"Solid copy, 3-1. They're looking to go fisticuffs," Seccaroph replied. Sounding just as eager. "We're going to oblige. Viper flight - defend any SAMs at you and drop speed to mach 1, continuing bearing toward primary objective. Everyone else, check your PFDs and go tactical. Conserve ammo and relay as many targets to SWACS as you can."
The formation broke apart then as everyone got to work.
Nees was still trying to get her breathing under control. It took her longer than it should've to register Seccaroph's orders. Quickly, she thumbed her COM suite to first team and SWACS. Then checked on the range of the two plasma missiles tracking her. Three hundred kilometers out. Moving very fast. Had to remember her training. There were multiple methods for defending against missile launches, depending on the type and the angle. But the general idea was simple: movement. Any time a fired-on object changed trajectories, it forced the pursuing missile to also have to course-correct and adjust. And any time a missile adjusted, it would bleed speed. Because they didn't have active thrusters and pilots like actual ships.
At least, in big gravity wells like Magma V, that was the case. Even guided Covenant plasma weapons, which relied on magnetic fields. In-atmosphere, they could be defeated somewhat easier than standard missiles. That didn't make them less dangerous.
"Alright first team, listen up," Seccaroph said, his voice taking on a much more serious and hard edge. A lethal edge. "We're going to break ahead and neutralize those SAM sites alongside second team. Check your logs and switch to your AGMs now."
Nees activated her weapons then. Her broadsword was outfitted with 30 standard air-to-air M6088 ST/MMP, as well as a complement of 40 air-to-ground M6B MMB 'Slayer' missiles. Ideal for striking ground-based AA targets from range. Orders ran along her PFD side-screen: Raptor (1,2) Target-Priority: Hostile SAM site(s). Raptor (3,4) Target-Priority: Bandit interceptors. ROE: Weapons-Free. She switched weapons system to the slayer missiles, then pulled back on her side-stick to gain altitude. Her speed dropped to mach 1.1, but that was fine. Because the two plasma missiles tracking her would have to adjust trajectory and also climb further up. Which meant that they'd bleed a lot of speed and fight a lot of gravity. Which would make it a lot easier to defeat them. Or, so she hoped.
Things were about to get serious.
"You'll be fine. You need the experience," Admiral Shepard had told her. Annoyingly so. With that unwavering confidence that he always carried.
It irked Lieutenant Aylexx Jonesyn. But at this point, she had no choice. Operation: TIGHTROPE had already started. And she was already onboard SWACS-class starboat Helios. Already in the thick of action.
"Receiving new target set from Tigershark," Blue Roxet reported. The AI had split the 'blue' half of its personality matrix to assist with TIGHTROPE, while it's 'red' half had stayed onboard the Despair's Light. At first, Aylexx had assumed that such a split would limit the functions and capabilties of the AI... But that hadn't been the case. Aylexx still didn't quite understand it, but from what she could gather, Roxet itself was some sort of sixth-generation AI. Not quite a pure Smart AI, but something the heavily black-inked PERSCOM files described as an experimental 'composite neural-wave' dual intelligence system. How Admiral Shepard had gotten his hands on it, Aylexx would likely never know. For her own good, at that. Shepard had never been on good terms with ONI, and there was no doubt they'd seek vengeance on him for his acquisition of Roxet.
Regardless, Blue Roxet had proven to be quite effective. Albeit, quite distinct in terms of personality.
Aylexx's eyes jumped across the data screen in front of her. Processing the information as rapidly as possible. Her viewscreen was split in two: one part was linked to an external camera grid located on the portside wing of Helios, while the other was a series of data-points that read off target positioning, speed, distance, and multiple relative-specific trajectories. On her righthand side was a holographic 3-Dimensional LIDAR sphere that span a few thousand kilometers in all directions. Like a globe of local space. A small holo model of Helios was at the epicenter. She reached out and rotated the sphere until she could clearly identify the big marker indicating Tigershark squadron. Then opened her palm to zoom in, replacing the big marker with smaller individual green icons of Tigershark broadswords, as well as the other squadrons. It also revealed a number of red diamonds that indicated Covenant fighters - roughly 25% of them were seraphs. The rest were banshees.
All of the members of the target set were seraphs.
"Seraphs, and a precarious number of them," Blue Roxet said with a note of grandiloquence. "Tracking. We shall dispatch the vile heathens with grace. On your ready, of course, Miss Jonesyn."
"Loading Python rockets now," Aylexx responded as she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. She couldn't move as quick as the AI.
"Do march to your own drum, ma'am. Hurried mistakes are exorbitant compared to the cost of deliberate perfection."
Of course. But Aylexx needed to be both efficient and quick. Because the typical Medusa guided missiles outfitted on broadswords and longswords were ineffective against Seraph shielding, Helios carried a complement of M97T Python Rockets. They didn't have automated target-locking systems, and their flight paths had to be remotely adjusted mid-flight. A separate system controlled the activation and detonation of the rockets, as well as their speed. And so two people were needed in order to operate the rockets effectively.
"Pythons are loaded. Firing payload of 4 in five, offset two," Aylexx reported.
Five seconds later, Aylexx fired the first Python rocket. It streaked out from its housing chamber, leaving behind a silver trail that quickly dissipated in its wake. Two seconds later, she fired the next. Then repeated that process with the final two until the entire payload was in the void. She watched on her viewscreen camera as the rockets fled away into space before disappearing into obscurity. A moment later, a series of 4 black circle icons appeared on the LIDAR sphere, representing the four rockets.
"Manual control systems engaged. The dance of death begins, Miss Jonesyn. Prepare yourself."
Aylexx's hands were already hovering over her keyboard. She'd only ever operated the Python weapon system in simulations. But she had the easy job. Trying to hit an object roughly the size of a basketball court in space - manually - was like trying to hit the tip of a needle by throwing a cell at it.
"P1, set thruster to 80%," Blue Roxet commanded.
Aylexx quickly followed the command.
"Copy to P3 and P4."
Again she adjusted thuster power, dropping both the pythons to 80% efficiency.
"Spiking... On my mark, adjust to 60%, all P... Mark!"
Aylexx's fingers danced across the keyboard. She reached out with a hand and rotated the LIDAR sphere to get a better picture of the situation. The rockets had closed in on the seraph formation. She readied herself to initiate detonation sequences.
"Detonate P2 ... Now!"
Aylexx input the detonation command on the second python. The LIDAR sphere showed the black circle icon cross-out. A small highlight appeared on the viewscreen data-feed: TARGET DESTROYED.
"Tragic fall, does the vanquished prey suffer," Blue Roxet whispered. "Prepare to detonate remaining pythons, Miss Jonesyn."
Part of Aylexx wanted to take a second just to breathe.
"And detonate in 3... 2... 1... Now."
She punched in the codes. On the LIDAR sphere, the remaining black circles crossed-out before blinking out of existence. Another highlight appeared on the data-feed, reporting that three more targets had been destroyed. An ammo counter revealed that there were 56 Pythons remaining, and that another salvo was loaded and ready to go.
"Your refined abilities are as liquid crystal given human form," Blue Roxet complimented.
"I take it we're not done yet?" she asked as she reached for a nearby bottle of water.
"Our quest has only begun. In fact, whilst extirpating the Covenant foes, I processed a significant tally of target-sets from within Magma V's atmosphere. And have already completed signature calculation. Viper and Raptor require our lethality. Should we remain here, or proceed to their aid - the decision is yours, ma'am."
Aylexx savored the water. Leaned back in her seat and let out a sigh. After that first salvo, she wasn't feeling stressed anymore. If anything, she felt eager to get back at it.
"Let's go to Magma V," she decided.
Warning alarms buzzed loudly. As though in a fit of rage at the circumstances. Heavy breathing.
Nees processed the warnings and shoved them to the back of her mind. Instead of focusing on that, and her uncontrollable breathing, she banked her broadsword hard to the right. Rolled with the turn until she could look straight ahead at the ground beneath her. Her cockpit rocked violently. As though she were sitting inside a blender. It felt like the broadsword was being torn apart. And the pain was blistering; the kind that made one want to hang it all up. In a few seconds, that would be the case. Provided Nees didn't do anything to prevent it. A proximity alert flashed bright red all around her canopy. Then there was a new alert flashing incessantly in her helmet HUD: EJECT-EJECT-EJECT.
Nees ignored it. The plasma missile appeared as a red dot on her radar. Dangerously close and moving fast. When it got to within 300 meters, she thumbed on her exo-atmospheric thrusters and drained all primary engine power. Then yanked her sidestick back as hard as possible.
"Over-G, Over-G, Over-G," Her onboard computer warned.
She was well aware. Her vision began to black out around the edges. Her breathing had gotten very short. As though she'd just run two miles without hydrating. And it felt as though her entire body was being squeezed. Like having a rope tied around her tight enough to the point where no blood could circulate. And the pain was something a bit worse than having ants eat her inside out. Had she not been a trained pilot, she would've lost consciousness right there on the spot. All she could do was scream. To keep herself from going unconscious, and to wail against the agony pulling her body apart.
Her broadsword completed the turn - angling an entire loop on a level of super-maneuverability that seemed to defy physics. Seconds later, the plasma missile streaked past her canopy, flying off into the distance. Heat washed over the broadsword reminiscent of atmospheric entry. But it subsided, and the plasma missile trailed off harmlessly. All the alerts within the cockpit vanished. Nees deactivated the exo-atmospheric thrusters, then pushed her primary thrusters back to 50% engine power. Her vision cleared. Lungs kicked back in, and the pain began to subside.
Then, she thumbed a weapons activation button. "Sl.. - slayer-1," Nees managed to eek out between deep gulps of air into her COM. A split second later, a missile streaked from her broadsword. The contrail shot forth then curved toward the ground. Nees rolled her broadsword in a 360 spin, making sure to witness the final SAM site detonate into a ball of fire. It erupted with enough force to wipe away the surrounding ground and a number of trees.
"All 'dem g-guns 're down, Ra - Raptor Lead," Nees reported, still struggling to even speak clearly. That'd been the final identified SAM site.
"Nice work. Now get up here and help us clear out these bandits," Seccaroph ordered, his voice sounding strained.
Nees craned her neck to look above and behind. One hell of a furball dogfight was taking place between Raptor teams 1 and 2, and a flight of Covenant banshee interceptors that'd been scrambled from somewhere BVR - beyond-visual-range. Fuel rods and plasma rounds criss-crossed the sky alongside a flurry of medusa missiles. Occasional explosions pockmarked the air like fireworks. Amidst it all were the broadswords, caught up in a weblike dance against the banshees. Nees barely had time to register it all when her system lit up yet again: someone had a lock on her.
A triangulation icon scrolled along her canopy to a target at her tail, and above her by about a couple thousand feet and closing.
Which was highly dangerous. There would be no out-maneuvering this attack.
"I'm locked up, hostile at Angels 8 'n closin'. Defendin'," Nees alerted on the open COM. She fought to calm her nerves and think clearly. Time was swiftly running out. Her best chance was to try and break lock by swooping even lower and scramming into the mountain range. Try and go cold out over the nearby sea.
Immediately she angled the broadsword to drop her altitude. She glanced back at the attacking banshee. Visually, it was still a small dot, but the red icon surrounding it was all the visual she needed. Nees increased her engines to gain speed; one of the smaller mountains was coming up on her 2 o'clock, and she'd need it to save her life. Because right then, she got the angry warning of a weapons launch. A fat blob of plasma raced after her, the proximity tracker closing dangerously fast.
Shit. Nees hadn't imagined she'd go out like this. Or, rather, she had. But she wasn't ready.
It wasn't over yet, though. Her altitude was at just over an Angel. At least that'd give the plasma a lot of thick air to fight through. Nees pitched and made another hard bank to the right. At the same time, she fired off a handful of her magnetospikes. Several metallic rods shot from her broadsword, carried along by small rockets in multiple different directions. The countermeasures were meant to fool the magnetic motion-sensors that Covenant plasma weapons used to track targets. They weren't perfect, and at this close of a distance, their affect would likely be negligible.
But Nees would take all the help she could get. Within the next five seconds, she'd either successfully slip behind the mountain... Or the fuel rod would hit her first.
She curved along the mountain at a dangerously low altitude. Pulling back ever tighter on the side-stick. She got a missile proximity warning. Another over-g warning. And closed her eyes. Her bones and muscles felt as though they were being shredded to pieces.
Seconds later, heat washed over the broadsword. Then it dissipated.
"Altitude... Altitude... Altitude," the computer warned.
Nees reopened her eyes. The fuel rod had missed. She rolled and leveled out along the backside of the mountain, then boosted her thrusters to maximum output and pitched upward. Distance readouts listed the hostile banshee at just over 1000 feet away, closing the distance at a remarkable rate. Which was a good thing. Nees looked over her shoulder and spotted the banshee. Its wings were angled as it banked to try and keep its nose pointed at her. I can stop that from happenin'. Nees rolled right yet again, this time pitching her broadsword until she was roughly upside down and heading in the direction of the banshee. By her calculations, she'd have just enough momentum to merge with the banshee before it lined up a shot. And she began draining her speed. For a certain maneuver she was already lining up to make. She was going to use the banshee's speed against it.
The banshee grew in size as it got within gun distance. Nees could make out the details on it, including the red-hot plasma guns ready to shoot. And it did. Blue plasma rounds flew from the banshee in a neat spray. Most of them missed - but at least two of the rounds struck the tail-end of her broadsword just before the banshee shot by. There was a metallic screech as the Titanium-A armor plating was peeled away dangerously close to her primary engines. Sparks burst from the broken section.
Systems status reported light damage and overheating. One of the cooling units had been destroyed. Nees looked over her shoulder, both to keep an eye on the banshee and to visually assess the damage. Silver-blue liquid spat out from an open gash that ran from her right wing down toward the primary engines. Automated sealant injectors sprayed the gash. Most of the black fluid dispersed into air uselessly; barely a little managed to comb along the wound as it tried to close up the opening. But the coolant unit still leaked, and would do so until it emptied. The onboard computer automatically readjusted power output to her remaining 3 coolant units as it fought to stop her craft from overheating.
Hmm. It wasn't horrible. The broadsword was still good to fight. But Nees couldn't afford to take another hit like that. Because from that one hit alone, she already had to worry about the broadsword's energy and engine strength. She couldn't count on getting lucky a second time.
So she focused her attention on the banshee... Which was now in front of her, having overshot due to its high-speed. The banshee pilot pivoted in the opposite direction toward the left, hoping to turn the fight into a scissor where it would cross along the nose of her broadsword back and forth, too quick for Nees to get a shot off. Jinking. An old-school dogfighting tactic, and Nees wasn't going to fall for it. Instead of trying to line up directly behind the banshee, she kept her speed low and cut back to the right. Predicting the banshee pilot's move ahead of time. The banshee banked right a second later, walking itself right into her crosshairs. Nees thumbed the switch to activate her 35mm autocannons. At the last second, the banshee tried to roll and dive out the line-of-sight. Abandoning the righthand bank to take the fight even closer to the deck. The pilot must've realized the mistake. Way too late. Not merely because Nees had a shot lined up, but also because it didn't have nearly enough airspeed to keep from crashing into the ground if it dived.
Nees squeezed the trigger on her side-stick for a full two seconds. And the banshee erupted in a fiery blue haze. It was blown apart almost entirely, leaving behind a trail of smoke and bluish fuel. Only half a wing remained to plummet toward the surface. There was no trace of the pilot.
"Splash one!" Nees shouted the words in triumph. She'd survived. So far.
Sergeant Lucius Cain was vaguely reminded of Nihdarra. Dark and stormy skies. Eerie nighttime vibe. A lot of waiting and watching. A lot of sneaking and stealth. And Sarah Palmer. Whom he hadn't really expected to see again after the whole court-martial situation.
"Military's just funny like that," Lucius said. He kept his voice low. "I get railroaded by ONI. You get made Sergeant."
"Take it with a grain of salt," she whispered back. "Everybody's a replacement for someone else. Can't leave NCO positions unfilled."
Lucius scratched at his hair. Then felt the itch moving. He quickly swatted at his head. A bug came flying off, landing on the soft mud just in front of his face. It was some type of arachnid. The bug escaped his fist by diving into a nearby puddle of water, causing its own miniature wave alongside the raindrops pelting it.
Water. Lucius dug out a small hole just outside the lip of the foxhole, unscrewed his canteen, and sat it inside the hole to collect some of the rain.
"Really?" Sarah asked drily.
"It ain't gonna stop raining. I might as well take advantage." He twisted to his side, getting a better angle so as to reach the big leaves stemming from one of the alien bushes to his right. Adjusted it so that the rainwater could slip from it into his canteen.
"Overlord Ziborg did this in episode 39 when he was hiding from Hawkman. We all saw how that turned out. Dude survived," he finished, lying back in prone position. He and Sarah were situated beneath a lot of branches and leaves, which kind of kept a lot of the rain from hitting them directly. And lying prone was practically the only comfortable position available. Lucius glanced over at Sarah. She fixed him with an annoyed expression.
"You don't remember? After he escaped from Ark's Asylum?"
Sarah shook her head in annoyance. "Where's that old Lucius that broke onto Nihdarra?"
Lucius sighed. "I forgot how uncultured you were. Seriously, though - command's head is stuck firmly up their ass. Supplies are running low and those clowns expect us to capture a whole continent."
Which was basically true. The supply situation had been shitty since day one. It drained on morale across the board. Based on what Lucius had been hearing in dispatches, the southern front - where the main invasion force had landed - was in the exact same damn boat. So far, the battle group had won pretty much every firefight and skirmish, more or less. Apparently the Marines had even scored a pretty big win a few hours ago. But at the current rate, the UNSC was going to lose this campaign. Lucius wasn't a history-buff like Mago, but even he knew there were countless examples of armies winning every fight and still losing the war. The Magma V campaign was shaping up to be one of them.
They'd come to this world with a plan. And that plan had been tossed out the window before the first shot had ever been fired. Since then, everything felt like spending a lot of lives on negligible gains. And even Lucius, who'd technically been a combat veteran since before graduating boot camp, was beginning to grow weary. Lucius always tried to stay in good spirits... And that was growing more difficult to do by the day.
"Well, that's why we're here," Sarah responded. She nodded forward.
Out ahead of them, far off in the distance and downhill from their current position, the forest gave way to an open area littered with multiple tall pylons. They stretched above the treeline by at least a few dozen meters. Odd towers that pulsed every few minutes, releasing a sort of pink-blue glow that dispersed outward from the apex. Altogether, the pylons produced a domelike field that covered the entire area. Lieutenant Nyxa had explained that they were some sort of stealth field generators. Which made sense to Lucius. Because on occasion, Covenant dropships, vehicles and patrols would enter the field... Whereupon they'd vanish. Like active camouflage. There'd even been a flight of over twenty banshees that'd emerged about two hours ago.
Nyxa had infiltrated the dome yesterday alongside spartans Tyshawn and Abdul - the three of them making up the newly formed 'Gauntlet Team'. And they'd confirmed that it housed the airfield everyone had been looking for.
"We take that, AME has a nice staging site. Can't really airlift materiel when Covenant still have air superiority around here," Sarah finished.
Lucius hoped that'd be the case. Reports from up above still sounded like the fighting was brutal. The Navy fighters up in space, as well as the Air Force fighters that'd been running sorties in-atmo against Covenant targets. Most of those engagements were happening down in the south and southeast, where the Marines were. But just yesterday, he'd witnessed firsthand several banshees get wiped out by missiles fired from somewhere several miles away. And, on occasion, there were search and rescue requests from downed pilots.
Footsteps approached from behind. Lucius and Sarah both turned to look back. Seconds later, the branches covering them parted, revealing a 2nd Bat ODST corporal. Lucius didn't recognize him.
"The Lieutenant wants to see you. Both of you," the guy reported. He had a boone hat on in place of his helmet. "I'll take watch."
"Which Lieutenant, Dynan?" Sarah asked him.
The guy - Dynan - scoffed. "The psycho that could probably kill us all if she wanted to."
"Bro," Lucius said. He held up a hand. "Relax." Then he glanced past Dynan's shoulder. Then tapped the side of his helmet by his left ear. "You know they can hear really good, right?"
Dynan just looked at Lucius. Didn't say anything. Then he looked back at Sarah. "Better get going, sergeant. Before the freak snaps again."
Lucius winced. Some of the guys had been giving the spartans a hard time. To the point where one of the 2nd Bat troopers had outright refused to follow Nyxa's orders. Everyone was in relatively low spirits currently. Uneasy and anxious and tired and sick of the rain. But that guy had taken it a step too far and lashed out. Tried to throw hands at Nyxa...
It hadn't gone well, and ended with that guy sporting a broken arm and being escorted back to FOB Juniper.
Morale was a hell of a thing.
Together, Lucius and Sarah emerged from their foxhole, leaving behind Dynan to pull security alone. Lucius wouldn't have let a trooper do that job solo, but Sarah seemed to trust Dynan, so he didn't say anything. If anything, it felt good to finally stretch his muscles after lying still for several hours.
The camp site was situated on top of a small rise in the woods about a few kilometers away from the airbase. It was a decent enough site, by Lucius's standards. And the treeline above provided ample cover against any Covenant dropships, banshees, or otherwise. The perimeter was lined with several foxholes, dugouts, and a number of motion trackers in a 360 degree radius. Because their group was deep within 'South Death Valley', well within Covenant occupied territory. This wasn't the first time Lucius had been behind enemy lines - hell, it was part of his job description - but the unfamiliar faces, and the dwindling supply situation, left him with a distinct sinking feeling within his stomache. The spartans were one thing, and the TSC guys another... But the 2nd Bat troopers were a whole different ball-game. They were just too aggressive, even by ODST standards. And the Jump-Jet Legion had never gotten along with 2nd Bat.
Lucius fell in behind Sarah as they made it to the center of camp. Tapped his prosthetic finger and thumb together. The entrance to the command tent was already open, and he glanced past Sarah at the scene inside. He could tell tensions were high, even without needing to hear the conversation. He immediately regretted leaving behind his helmet at the foxhole. A rookie mistake. The type of mistake JD would make. Sarah glanced back at him with an expression that read: here goes nothing.
"...an unnecessary risk. We're Troopers - we hit hard, we hit fast, and we hit decisive," Lucius heard a voice say.
He entered the tent behind Sarah and took in the scene. At the center was a table, sporting a pair of maps laid out next to each other - one of which was hand-drawn with an incredible amount of detail. On one side sat Lieutenant Jane Shepard, her hands loading rounds into a BR55 magazine. Standing next to her was Magnum. He took a quick glance at Lucius and nodded once before refocusing his attention on the maps. On the other side sat the 2nd Battalion, Alpha Company Lieutenant Exelet. Even with the helmet, Lucius could tell that the man's Martian-red eyes were affixed to Lieutenant Nyxa, who occupied the third edge of the table. Next to Exelet sat his subordinate, Staff Sergeant Nyxine, who had one hand resting on a sidearm. Lucius couldn't see her face, but he imagined she was probably glaring at Mago. If 2nd Bat and the Jump-Jet Legion were rivals, then Mago and Nyxine were the spearheads of each side and embodied that rivalry to the fullest. On the fourth and final edge of the table was a lone TSC. Force-Sergeant... Isn't it Wang? Or something like that? Lucius couldn't quite recall her name with certainty. But she was the only other person in the room without a helmet, revealing her unique Faerisian features - lustrous white eyes that seemed to have no pupil, framing a round face with small features. And, unsurprisingly, she looked annoyed.
"That strategy is impractical at best," Nyxa said. She looked at Lucius and Sarah for a brief second before looking back at Exelet. "And suicidal at worst. And any sound plan should take into account the worst case scenario."
"You're squandering a golden opportunity," Exelet shot back.
Lucius filed in alongside Jane and Magnum. Sarah slid into position behind Exelet and Nyxine.
He leaned over and whispered to Magnum. Vaguely aware that Nyxa could probably hear him anyway. "They got a different approach, huh?"
"Mm," Mago whispered back. "I think he's just mad about that private."
Mago was referencing the trooper that'd gotten his arm broke.
"Can you blame him?"
"I'd have shot the kid," Mago answered. "This is a battlefield. Not a high school."
And he was dead serious. Lucius smiled. Mago wasn't the same guy he'd been back in boot camp; he'd gotten a lot more ruthless. Especially after Nihdarra. Lucius liked it.
"The decision's already been made," a new voice stated. Heavily modulated and heavily deep. Everyone - except for Nyxa - glanced to the far rear of the tent, where another spartan seemingly materialized out of the shadow. Lieutenant Tyshawn. His armor was covered from neck to toe with a dark green cloak, making Tyshawn look like some type of armored wizard. Lucius had no idea how long the spartan had been standing back there, and doubted anyone else aside from Nyxa had been aware of his presence.
"The strategy is already set," Tyshawn continued as he stepped forward. "This isn't an advisory meeting. It's a briefing."
Exelet leaned back in his seat. Resigned. "Well, shit."
Tyshawn took position next to Nyxa, leaning over the table with his faceplate pointed toward the hand-drawn map. "When I scouted the eastern perimeter of the base, I identified ten spotter posts... They are located in these locations." He pointed to a number of small triangles spread out along the terrain covering the far opposite end beyond the base.
"Supplementing those posts," he continued, this time pointing to a series of lines drawn from the base and into the woods on that end. "Covenant are fielding infantry patrols similar to the ones we've seen on our side of the base... Their pathing is roughly along these lines. Though they deviate. Strength varies, but tends to be grunts, jackals, skirmishers, and at least two elite minors."
Lucius nodded. Then swallowed. One thing he hadn't yet fought since landing on Magma V was an elite. But it made sense for them to have a presence at an airbase. They were the primary pilots in the Covenant army.
Tyshawn continued. "Their assigning elite pairings to the patrols suggests that the base houses a significant number of them. Which falls in line with the numbers we saw when we infiltrated the base. And makes a sizable stealthy approach non-feasible. This leaves two options: we force a battle, and take the base through direct confrontation. Challenge the Covenant to a decisive battle. Or we play it smart. Gauntlet team performs another infiltration of the airbase, in order to sabotage their stealth pylon network. Leave the base exposed to aerial assault and bombardment."
Exelet leaned back in his seat. Crossed his arms. "And... I take it you're going with the infiltration approach?"
"Strategy is as follows," Tyshawn continued without directly answering the question. "Lieutenant Exelet, you'll take your team along the northern end to the eastern perimeter of the base. Shepard will do the same thing with her team along the southern path. Exelet team callsign Alpha, Shepard team callsign Bravo. Once at that end, you'll plant charges along their spotter posts in these locations. Then regress back to base. Do not engage the enemy unless it's absolutely necessary. Gauntlet team will have entered the airbase by that point. Await our signal to detonate and destroy those spotter posts."
Tyshawn turned to appraise the sniper. "Force-Sergeant Wang will provide overwatch for both of your teams. Questions?"
"What happens if we get engaged?" Mago asked. "Continue as planned, or fall back?"
"Fall back," Tyshawn answered immediately. "This is an airbase - a critical one. The moment they detect hostile forces, they'll respond swiftly and with full strength. If you get bogged down in a firefight, you won't survive. If you're caught in a fight, go to grass and exfiltrate toward FOB Juniper. Gauntlet will continue the mission alone."
"And what if you get engaged prematurely?" Nyxine asked this time.
Tyshawn and Nyxa glanced at each other. Lucius wished he could see their expressions. Tyshawn looked back at Nyxine.
"We won't."
"Well," Wang started. "I'm good, but not that good. That's a lot of ground to cover, and I'd need a spotter if I'm going to be effective."
"You don't have one?" Lieutenant Nyxa asked her.
"Not since the day we landed."
There was a brief pause. Then Wang pointed at Mago. "He'll do."
Lucius scratched at his stubble. Then looked at Mago from the corner of his eyes. He wished he could see Mag's expression. But he could read the body language well enough. Mag wasn't pleased.
Before anyone could say anything further, the radio crackled to life on the table.
"Sitrep," the voice came in. Lucius recognized it as Dynan. "A convoy just entered the base. With a big escort - ghosts, a wraith tank, and a flight of banshees."
Zealot-Marshal Kareg 'Xarxee emerged from the bosom of the Umbra, taking a moment to consume the smell, taste, and feel of fresh air on his face. Even the rain was a welcome partner. This was his first time being exposed to the natural planetary elements since departing for the fleet several weeks ago; since landing in Ghalossus City yesterday, he'd been situated within the Umbra the entire time. Traveling across the surface toward the western frontline.
"Zealot-Marshal!"
Kareg slowly opened his eyes. He hadn't been finished. General Castellax stood before him with a crisp salute, alongside a number of other adjutant and minor officers. Kareg affixed him with a glare, and the general bowed his head a moment.
"Your presence honors us all, Zealot-Marshal, and is a great boon to our war efforts," Castellax heaped praise. Eager to impress.
The rest of Kareg's retinue disembarked the Umbra - his personal team of Zealot warriors, as well as his right-hand and mentor, the Ascetic warrior Nocclus. Kareg watched and waited until they gathered their equipment and departed. Then, he took a look around the base.
It was quite massive in size. Probably a kilometer in length. Maybe a bit more. There were at least ten Summits he could see, which meant that at least 200 standard banshee fliers were housed here. And similar numbers of vampires. Hangars lined either end of the base and housed, among other things, Type-11 and Type-12 Seraphs as well as various dropships. Other than that, the place was roughly the same as any other base. Typical guardhouses, spotter towers, an armory, a small motor pool, and plenty of light infantry - unggoy and kig-yar. The most defining feature were the stealth pylons. Four of them towered in each corner of the base, and would make the location virtually invisible across most wavelengths of the electromagnetic spectrum.
Prior to the invasion, this place had served as a special-operations piloting facility. Which explained the experimentally new Type-11 and 12 Seraphs, which had yet to be distributed for official use across the various ministries. And it explained the stealth pylon network. Recent events had turned the Flight of Illustrious Predation airbase into a primary stronghold on the western front. It was the only full base standing between the humans and the Greater and Lesser Spires... And the only thing standing between the humans and a meaningful zone of aerial control.
So that explained the major fluctuation in troops that'd been ferried to the base over the past few days. The surge of numbers was evident from a single glance: no matter the direction Kareg looked, he saw brother sangheili warriors as well as other Covenant infantry. More than a thousand.
It was not enough.
Kareg finally turned back to face Castellax. Then signaled for the general to follow as he headed for the Command Center.
"Status report," Kareg demanded. He had already spotted multiple security issues upon entering the base.
"Our situation remains roughly the same since last we spoke, Zealot-Marshal. Our aerial fighter teams yet support the war effort for control over the Primean Sea. And we, as of yet, have not been able to carry out bombing operations against the humans situated at the Etulan Range. They are dug-in well, and have sufficient Anti-Aircraft weaponry to fend off our sorties. We have a number of deep-range patrol files probing the humans, and small-scale firefights have begun happening daily now. As well, I have deployed several kig-yar sniper teams as advance scouts - one of which has dropped out of contact and is presumed dead."
They rounded a guard tower. Sitting atop it was a pair of unggoy manning a plasma cannon. The duo had been in a fierce argument with one another. But the barking stopped when they spotted Kareg and Castellax marching by.
Up ahead was the Command Center. It was a tall building, sporting multiple floors - each of which housed various security monitors and automated weapons. A guard patrol of unggoy marched along its perimeter, the small beasts appearing more asleep than awoke.
"I have petitioned the City for reinforcements," Castellax continued.
This caused Kareg to glance at the sangheili from the corner of his eye. He hadn't expected Castellax to identify the weakness of the base's numbers. Perhaps the general was more acute than he'd anticipated.
"If they send us more warriors, we can counter-strike the humans. Wipe their stain from this world," Castellax continued...
And immediately drained whatever modicum of respect Kareg had just gained for the general. Only a fool would brave such an assault at this juncture. The humans had - by Castellax's words himself - managed to dig-in and fortify their positions along the Etulan Range, which was itself a naturally defensible location. And there was no need for an offensive mobilization. The onus was on the humans to press forward into unknown territory. That was an advantage any wise commander would use to the fullest.
He allowed the general to continue. To further assess the situation, and the general himself.
"We are otherwise eager to engage the humans in open battle. I tire of these little skirmishes they seem keen on doing."
Kareg was now especially worried. He needed to see the latest updates from these patrols ASAP.
They entered the Command Hub moments later. Kareg took just long enough to glance around and get his bearings. The many officers and sub-officers present all took their time to salute him being continuing on whatever tasks they were working. Mostly sangheili, though there were a number of kig-yar present. A gravity lift was located at the center of the room, which would take Kareg straight to the primary control station. Again, he signaled for Castellax to follow as he made for the lift.
When they reached the top floor, Kareg was greeted by a number of Ruuhtian kig-yar staff officers. Small and fragile creatures, not the best fit for the brutalities of frontline combat. But decent enough with their heads as to be of use within administrative and staff roles. Either way, Kareg harbored very little trust of their entire species. For good reason, as well. If it were one thing he could agree with humans on... It was the name they'd given the species. Jackals. But he decided to set aside those concerns. One of them stood to greet him as he marched toward the main command dais - Kareg blew past the kig-yar as if it weren't even there, then spoke directly to Castellax.
"Your patrol reports."
"Right here," Castellax answered as he reached past Kareg to the holotable in front of him. Castellax input a series of hieroglyphic codes. Seconds later, the holotable materialized into an intricately detailed, multi-layered map revealing the region's higher altitude alps, the groundfloor surface, and even the underground beneath the surface of the planet, ranging more than three thousand meters within Magma V's lithosphere. The map automatically readjusted it's dimensions and focus settings until it offered a 3-dimensional view of the airbase and everything surrounding it in a 360-degree sphere. The sections underground automatically highlighted softer and weaker regions; locations primarily composed of lighter igneous minerals more easily mined away. Kareg filtered away most of this data. It was probably just leftover code adopted from the mining computer systems back in Ghalossus City. He instead focused on the flashing yellow orbs that highlighted patrol team position reports.
Kareg wasn't so interested in the content of those reports... His interest was on the location and frequency.
"We have not detected any major offensives coming from the humans," Castellax jumped in, breaking Kareg's chain of thought. "They reveal themselves as the cowards we know they are."
Kareg swiftly shot up a hand. Castellax silenced himself on the spot.
As I suspected... Of course.
Contact sightings in virtually all front-most positions... Except for one specific region in particular. Relatively close to the airbase. Which was highly strange. And suggested, in Kareg's mind, a closer look was needed. The humans liked to be stealthy on occasion. Too stealthy.
"Summon my team," he ordered Castellax. It was time to hunt.