A/N: Alright, so it's finally here, long overdue, the rework that needed to happen.
Honestly, this chapter was a mess structurally, and I didn't think it'd need this much help, but dang was I wrong, frankly, I want to apologize for the state that it was in before this rework, and thank all my current readers that pushed through it and the subsequent chapters, you all are amazing.
To new readers of this fanfic, please do leave comments and reviews on this chapter, as always I appreciate feedback for future use. Without further ado, unto the first chapter of Unknown.
Unknown
Chapter One
Everything Will Change
Lance Corporal James Danton
Date: June 18, 2556
Time: 05:47
Location: Shanxi UNSC Outer Colony
You'd think that at some point they would have updated these things? James reflected as his single-occupant exoatmospheric insertion vehicle, or S.O.E.I.V, sped toward the small mining colony of Shanxi.
The old pod shook violently as it entered the upper atmosphere of the planet. The g-forces made the descent unpleasant for most. However, being a Helljumper for as long as he has made it easy to fall at terminal velocity toward the ground in what might as well have been a metal coffin. In fact, he often found himself slipping into a drowsy state during a drop, only to be pulled out of it when his pod would slam into the earth giving his brain a decent scramble, or when his squad leader, Sergeant Buck, screamed over the radio telling him to wake up and adjust his course of descent.
This drop, however, James was wide awake and focused on the task at hand. The planet below was currently being torn apart by an unknown alien force.
The fleet, which he was deployed with, had picked up on an emergency transmission from the colony of Shanxi stating that an unknown fleet came out of nowhere and had started attacking the colony. Fleet admiral, Jonathan White, responded to the colony's QRF request with the entirety of the tenth patrol fleet.
The tenth was average in size for a post-covenant war patrol fleet. Consisting of five Paris class frigates the StandTall, Jacobs, Steadfast, Atlanta, and the Desolate with the command vessel standing out as a bit of a rarity as it was a Marathon class heavy cruiser the UNSC Say My Name.
The ship which James had been stationed on for the last few years.
When the fleet arrived at the colony the situation had already been dire. The two stalwart class defense frigates that had been stationed at the colony were destroyed, while an unknown fleet of twenty-six ships sat in orbit above the colony.
"Adjust on my mark." Captain Veronica Dare commanded over the team's comms.
James' hands gripped the two control sticks as he waited for the signal from the Captain. The team comms was unusually quiet. Not even Kojo "Romeo" Agu, the squad sniper and resident wise ass, dared to crack a joke.
He knew that the severity of the situation and everyone on edge most likely contributing to the unusual professionalism that befell the squad.
Last time humanity met aliens we were nearly driven to extinction. It was a grim thought, James tried to ignore it.
Unknown enemy forces had already overran the garrison, so they were being deployed as a fast reaction force ahead of the fleets marine contingent. Once on the ground, James knew their mission was to disrupt enemy formations and open up landing zones for the main spearhead of marines to land, for once they'd be dropping in Company size as Dog company of the 103 shock battalion would lunch from the underbelly of the Say My Name.
An uneasy feeling gripped James as his leg bounced in agitation, last time they'd deployed as a Company was New Mombasa, back during the Covenant War, where they'd taken 70 percent casualties.
His thoughts were broken as a flash of light cut across the face of his pod momentarily blinding the young trooper, as the pods entered the lower atmosphere they had apparently entered a thunderstorm.
James looked out the small window of the pod seeing nothing but dark storm clouds. Water droplets collected on the glass hindering his view.
"Mark!" Captain Dare finally commanded.
The squad seamlessly adjusted their descent. At three thousand feet, the upper exterior panels of the pod separated acting as a drag chute. The added drag causing the pod to slow and allowing a "safe" landing, but as a result, it also made the pod shake a hell of a lot more.
I can't believe we're at war again. It feels like only yesterday I was slogging through the mud across Earth kicking out the brutes. James thought. When he finally hit the fifty-meter mark before impact the pod's braking rockets burst to life slowing the pod down enough to make the impact non-lethal. And now we're at it again, in a whole new mess.
Looking out the window he could see skyscrapers, and tracer rounds from thick urban combat, just before his pod slammed into the middle of the concrete city street. The impact of the pod slamming his head against the reinforced window with a jarring clang as metal met metal.
James groaned in pain grabbing his helmeted head with one hand while activating the explosive bolts on the pod's door with the other. A sharp hiss followed by several small explosions sent the door to his pod flying across the city street impacting and eventually stopping when it met a parked car.
Shaking off the pain in his head and grabbing his M7 submachine gun, configured in the SOCOM variant, he sprung from the pod onto the wet city street. He brought his weapon's scope to relative eye level as the weapon synced with his heads up display to allow him to use the reflex scope to scan the buildings around him, from the ground floor to rooftops for any hostiles. Only after finding none did he lower his guard. Having secured his immediate zone, James looked up to see if he could spot any additional pods coming down. Raindrop's impacted than streaked down his polarized visor as he looked up peering into the cloudy grey sky.
James heard the unmistakable sound of a SOEIV's brake rockets activating. Turning around seconds before a pod slammed into the street twenty meters from him. The door of the pod fell away and a fellow ODST trooper stepped out. James let a small smile touch his lips as he recognized the skull and crossbones adorning the chest piece and the face of death slapped right onto the iconic yellow striped ODST helmet.
The trooper could be nonother than Corporal Taylor "Dutch" Miles.
Well at least I'm not on my own, he thought in comparison to his mission in New Mombasa, in which the drop had rendered him unconscious for six hours, and therefore alone in the city as his team had moved onto their objective eventually linking up with James to successfully conclude their mission together.
It had been his first mission as a member of Alpha Nine.
He sprinted from his position to Dutch's keeping low not wanting to be detected by any hostiles he may have missed in his quick sweep of the rooftops. Dutch's MA5B assault rifle swept the streets and alleys for any threats, apparently having found none he lowered his weapon, turning to face James as the grizzled veteran depolarized his visor.
"Good to see ya Rook, for a second I thought that I'd be on my own." Dutch smiled toward the end. James nodded in agreement before doing another perimeter sweep.
"Dutch you hear me?" The voice of their gunnery sergeant Edward Buck came over the squad's comms, for the first time since they dropped.
"Yes sir, I'm here with Rookie, what's your location?" Dutch questioned.
"Main street, listen I'm with the rest of the squad and a few marines-shit!" Their Sergeant was cut off by a loud explosion followed by static.
That's never a good sign, James thought as he kept his grip on his weapon sure, and his eyes scanning.
"Sergeant come in!... Buck?" Dutch attempted to get a response. He shook his head and looked at James.
"Come on Rookie, sounds like they need our help," Dutch concluded. James nodded as he accessed the city's superintendent utilizing his armor's advanced software and was rewarded only after a short couple of moments with a complete map of the city.
We're twelve blocks over damn how'd we get that separated? He thought. We should probably avoid the main streets. James mapped a route to Buck's last given location before signaling Dutch to follow him.
The two of them rushed through the back alleys of Hena checking the streets and rooftops for any hostels. As they ran through alleys they stepped over rubble from nearby buildings and the corpses of the human troops who lay dead slumped against walls or lying in the street.
The Helljumper tried to avoid the fact that all of them looked younger than twenty. After a while of running the duo stopped at an intersection scanning the streets again before moving on. About ten minutes had passed before they were two blocks away from the waypoint, and could clearly make out the sound of gunfire.
"Dutch what's your position?" James heard Buck command over the radio. Both of the soldiers breathed a sigh of relief knowing that their squad leader hadn't fallen.
"About two blocks away sir!" The Martain responded as they slowed their pace.
The Helljumpers could see main street from their position from a side alley, unfortunately, they could also see a squad of five unknown alien combatants blocking them from reaching main street.
James paused ducking behind the conjoined alley wall before slowly peaking out again to gain a better look at the creatures, to him the aliens looked like a cross between an insect and a bird. Given these simple characteristics to the Helljumper, they resembled a Sangheili.
Fortunately for them both, the hostiles were facing toward the main street with their backs to the two shock troopers.
James signaled Dutch to take cover both of them creeping forward into position behind a dumpster further up the alley, toward the enemy squad.
Once in cover James detached a flashbang from his BDU harness. Glancing over to his squadmate James got an affirmative nod from the man before he pulled the pin priming the grenade and chucking it into the middle of the enemy squad.
The aliens looked at the grenade curiously before panicking once they realized what it was. However, their reaction proved to be too late as the grenade went off rendering them deaf and blind.
The two Helljumpers leaned out of cover, not suffering from the grenade's devastating effects due to their advanced helmeted systems.
James wasting no time drew a bead on the closest alien and let off a short burst into the causing the creatures to fall to the floor letting out a sharp chirp in panic as a blue shimmering field appeared over the creature as the M443 rounds from his M7s bounced off harmlessly.
They have shields too?
Not missing a beat the Hellhumper continued to unload on the alien firing round after round from his submachine gun until finally blue soldiers of blood gushed from multiple wounds originating from the aliens center mass.
James' eyes darted to the corner of his hud checking his weapons remaining magazine round count finding it, to his relief, at about half capacity.
Not as tough as Covenant tech, still annoying though.
To James' left, he could hear the sharp retort of Dutch firing a long burst from his assault rifle, which after cracking the aliens' shields, nearly taking the head off of another one which was running toward an overturned trash can. The force of his rounds sending the body crashing into the very object he sought to shield himself with.
James had to duck behind cover as long bursts flew from the alien rifles as the remaining three grew wise to the Helljumpers.
"Rook, wait for the reload, then flush them right," Dutch slung his rifle retrieving his M90, slamming the pump and chambering a round.
James gave a wink in acknowledgment over their comms as he crept around the dumpster to the left side, the waste bin vibrating as it came under heavy fire from the alien weapons. He could barely hear the frustrated chirps of the creatures over the constant suppressing fire. Having positioned himself on the leftmost side of the container, he unhooked his only fragmentation grenade, lifting the safety, as he clutched it in anticipation in his left hand while his right cradled his M7s.
Eventually, the fire lessened to a degree as a high pitch whine originated from somewhere beyond the bin and therefore James' vision. The frustrated chirps seemed to reach a zenith and James' took that as his signal.
Here goes nothing, he primmed and tossed the grenade gently around the bin, hearing another chirp of panic, followed by a loud explosion. Throwing himself into action he sprung around the corner of the bin, in a low crouch as he stormed forward unleashing a torrent of fire from his weapon into the three aliens which remained within the alley.
None were injured by the grenade, which according to the scorch mark around their feet had gone off amongst them. Yet James had expected as much and was still rewarded for the well-placed grenade in the form of rivets of blood that flowed from the first alien to come with the sights of his weapon.
A responding boom took the arm off the rightmost one which left only the middle and last surviving member of the alien squad. Recognizing that it was the last member of its squad, it beat a hasty retreat toward main street. James ejected his spent magazine, retrieving one from his waist pouch before sliding it into the bullpup designed weapon before racking the bolt, all while keeping his eyes forward on the retreating hostile. Another boom took the ODST's gaze from his foe as he saw Dutch standing over the corpse of the alien with the served arm. The freshly blown open chest cavity of the creature left little room for imagination within his mind as to what the noise had been.
"You left one," Dutch said his mask depolarized, revealing his weathered face, as he shrugged toward the retreating alien. "Gettin' slow on me?" Dutch joked.
James' shrugged bringing his weapon too bare, lining up the creatures center mass with the center reticle of his reflex sight.
Before he could take a shot, however, just as the alien exited the alleyway onto Main street the head of the fleeing alien disappeared into a cloud of blood, brains, and skull fragments followed a split second later by the unmistakable sound of an SRS99.
James slowly lowered his weapon, his eyes remaining on the now headless corpse which twitched idly in a shallow puddle of rainwater and blue blood.
"Well good to see we're not stuck behind enemy lines, come on Rook lets go," Dutch patted James' shoulder as he passed the younger trooper moving toward Main street, his feet pattering of the rain-soaked concrete floor.
Yeah, good to know. James moved to follow the older Martain, at a slower pace.
As soon as the duo left the alley onto Main street they might as well have been stepping into hell.
Destroyed carcasses of four warthogs created a barricade of sorts in the middle of the street. Countless marines littered the cold damp ground staining the street with blood. A lull in the rain left the two amongst the carnage in an eerie quiet. The only sound that James could hear was gunfire in the distance and his own soft breaths.
"Hey, up here buttercups!" A recognizable voice came over the comms.
James' head snapped from building to building trying to locate the origin before finally seeing, Alpha Nine's sniper, Romeo standing atop a two-story building four buildings down to James' right past the destroyed warthogs. Upon making visual contact with the sniper, who stood behind a low wall lining the top of the building, Romeo made a lazy two-finger salute toward the duo.
James scuffed.
Of course, it was him.
"Come on Rook let's move," Dutch moved past James toward the building.
The younger trooper followed, the duo making good progress, covering each other as they took turns hoping the barricade.
Having overcome the obstacle the two approached the building Romeo stood atop, a battered-looking marine stood guard at the door his MA5D rested in a relaxed grip at waist level.
"Friendlies coming in," he called over his shoulder as the duo moved past him.
The building, which had apparently been a food market due to the produce lying everywhere, was filled with a few battered marines keeping watch from various windows and holes in the walls, while nearly double of their number lay upon the floor groaning, many of them appearing to be severely wounded.
"Jesus!" Dutch swore under his breath looking at the scene around them. "I thought we were past this when the war ended..." Dutch trailed off mournfully while looking at a marine that had suffered an amputation directly below the knee.
So did I, James agreed silently with the man. Unfortunately, it seems war is inescapable.
"Hey! You guys made it!" A familiar cheery voice called from behind them.
Upon turning toward the voice James was confronted with another one of his lost squadmates. The red armored form of private first class Mickey Crespo approached pair, his visor depolarized revealing exhausted brown eyes masking a mirthful attitude. The demolitions expert's armor possessed a plethora of new nicks and dents in addition to scorch marks and a missing left shoulder pauldron.
He looks like shit, James couldn't help but think after seeing his friend.
"What the hell happened to you guys? And where's Buck and the Captain?" Dutch asked as Mickey reached out his hand, the two clasping each other's hand before releasing.
"Nice to see you too," Mickey sarcastically quipped as he and James fist-bumped.
Mickey gestured for them to follow him as he led them further into the store.
"As soon as we landed we joined up with a platoon of marines heading toward Main street. Apparently they were trying to head off a large hostile contingent from regrouping with the main body of the enemy force." The trio passed by a marine groaning in agony as a visibly sleep-deprived medic administered some form of painkillers. "Initially things were going well, until elements from the main body tried to break through to rescue their cut off forces, suddenly we were surrounded. After our vehicles were taken out, we set up a barricade to hold them off. This just seemed to piss them off though, cause they started hitting in force up front and using the alleys to flank the barricade, we lost a lot of guys pushing them back." Mickey stopped as the group passed a section that contained body bags. His face was blank as he stared at the dead. An uneasy feeling overcame James as he grew concerned for his friend.
"You green?" He asked placing a comforting hand on Mickey's shoulder. This seemed to shake him out of his stupor as he gave James an exhausted grin.
"Yeah I'm good James," They continued to walk as Mickey finished his story. "Then Romeo reported that a scout force was moving through the alleys, but he couldn't get a bead on 'em. Well, it turned out you showed up and solved that problem." Mickey finished opening the door to the manager's office. Stepping inside James saw Buck talking in a heated argument with the Captain.
Buck ran a frustrated hand through his short-cropped brown hair as his furious blue eyes met cold eyes of the same color as the couple argued.
"What the hell do you mean ONI gave you orders? Our orders are to hold the Main street and keep the Raptors from regrouping Veronica!" Buck seethed at the Captain while glaring daggers at her.
Some things just don't change.
"Our orders were to help establish a foothold, and the rest of Dog Company will continue to see that objective through, however, the situation for us has changed Buck! HIGHCOM has retasked us." Veronica countered staring daggers back at Alpha Nine's NCO.
Still can't believe these two are married. James shook his head in disbelief.
Mickey coughed announcing the group's presence to the couple.
"What!" Buck and Dare shouted together rounding on Mickey.
"Look who I found," the startled trooper gulped pointing over his shoulder.
Dutch and James walked around the private to show themselves to their squad leader. Buck visibly relaxed seeing them and approached the group as Dare started talking with someone over the comms.
Naval Intelligence no doubt.
"I'm glad you guys made it here in one piece," Buck said sincerely. "Listen, the Navy's kicking ass up there for a change, so the Raptors seem to be pulling out," Buck informed his squad much to their surprise. Thirty years of Naval inferiority led them to expect the worse from their sister branch. Yet despite this good news, James couldn't shake the feeling of dread building within him.
If we're winning why the hell does he look so grim?
"Then why the long face Gunney?" Dutch voiced James' thoughts.
Their sergeant seemed to tense before sagging his shoulders and throwing his hands up in defeat.
"Well, before the Raptors pull out, ONI in all of its wisdom, decided that they should capture part of their deployed leadership for interrogation, and HIGHCOM's agree, so that means while everyone else is kicking back, we're going to have to go deep behind enemy lines and capture the suspected general of the alien's operation while his forces are in full retreat toward his location," Buck explained exasperatedly.
A dreadful silence followed.
"Oh Lord," Dutch muttered.
"You can't be serious!" Mickey exclaimed.
James slung his M7s while he checked the munition pouches lining his waist.
I'm gonna need more ammo. He wondered if the marines downstairs had any.
"Look, I know this ain't exactly the party we'd planned on crashing but as our Captain," Emphasised Buck throwing a look over his shoulder toward his significant other, who was still on the radio, her brow creased in either confusion or stress, James couldn't tell. "Likes to remind us,"
"Orders are orders," Mickey and Dutch echoed in defeat.
"That's right! Or so I'm told, now the bird should be arriving any moment-"
"Hey Gunny, the birds here!" Romeo's voice sounded over the comms cutting off the sergeant.
"Perfect timing," Buck muttered darkly to himself. "You'll heard Romeo, we're heading to the roof boys, time to bag us a general." The squad moved together, weapons drawn, and visor's polarized, Dare followed them as she finished her conversation over comms with a muttered.
"Understood."
Well so much for a briefing James thought sarcastically. Though he knew he couldn't be too surprised it was rather typical as Alpha Nine briefing went, at least the ones he didn't sleep through.
Dutch and James followed the rest of Alpha as they headed for the staircase leading to the roof.
"Lieutenant Reynolds, sorry we got to leave you like this, but Dog Company's 2nd platoon should be arriving in ten minutes," Buck said over the local, Battle net, or B-net as they jogged up the stairs to the roof.
"I understand. We'll hold down the fort and wait for the cavalry to arrive!" The Lieutenant replied.
"Come on Alpha hustle!" Buck barked as they squad jogged up the winding staircase regrouping with Romeo at the roof in which a single UH-144 Falcon waiting for them.
"Sergeant get your men on board!" The pilot's voice called from the cockpit of their craft.
Romeo was already seated on the aft bench of the vehicle. With the thudding of boots on drenched tile, the troopers loaded into the craft. Dare and James taking the two passenger chairs within the cabin, while Dutch and Mickey took position behind the twin M247H's on either side of the craft. Buck loaded last, as was his way, electing to stand within the cabin using an overhead hand grip to support himself.
"Were all on! Take us up!" Buck spoke over the radio connecting with the pilot.
The craft slowly rose from the roof in response as the pilot lifted off from the imprompt tp LZ before making a wide pass sweeping over the area around the barricade before taking the team toward their objective, deep into the heart of the city.
While the craft flew at a high elevation, James took the opportunity to examine the city from the overhead view.
It looked like hell.
The city wasn't that big compared to others he's been to, not by a long shot, but it still easily could have had a population into the hundreds of thousands. As they flew overhead of the stirring chaos below he could see the vicious street to street fighting as a squad of marines pushed down a narrow street with the support of an M808 Scorpion. The "Raptors" as he had heard Buck call them being pushed back by the combined fire of the Scorpion's 90mm gun, and the marines various small arms. Dispight the overwhelming force of the tank and the solid advance of the marines, James was impressed as the aliens didn't seem to break and flee, but rather lay down covering fire for their forward elements before falling back on a squad basis.
They're incredibly disciplined and well trained.
As the craft flew deeper into the city he was treated to the sight of a full armored push as Warthogs with the support of three M808's charged an entrenched position of Raptors which had set up various defensive works within a city park that sat as an intersection of many of the cities main roads. James watched as the Raptors did all they could to stop the advance laying down heavy fire from both small arms and a few deployed heavy machine gun turrets. To their credit, they managed to take down a couple of the light reconnaissance vehicles and incapacitate an M808 before they were overrun and subsequently torn apart.
He sat back closing his eyes letting his mind relax and wander toward the constant hum of the crafts engine and whirl of the blades.
Well, it looks like we're going to have another war. Disappointment followed the revelation.
At least it can't be as bloody as the last one. It wasn't a comforting thought nor did he feel like it was an entirely truthful one.
The trooper enjoyed the solace he found within the great emptiness within his mind as the constant noises of the craft became his entire world, and soon found himself slipping into sleep only to be rudely shoved by Buck.
"Come on James, you can sleep after we grab this bad guy," Buck assured the trooper. "We're two minutes out from the LZ, I want equipment checks!" Buck's voice came over the team's comms.
James checked his magazines finding only four left, excluding the fresh one he had chambered. He knew he still had his M6 SOCOM with three magazines, which would be a more than an adequate secondary weapon, yet he was concerned about the lack of grenades as his firefight with the aliens in the alley had burned through his short supply. Soon the squad as a whole was responding condition green toward their NCO who winked back an affirmative.
"One minute!" Buck called the atmosphere within the cabin growing tense as they approached their destination. Dutch and Mickey sliding their door guns aside so they'd have an easier dismount and wouldn't hold the squad up.
"Thirty seconds!" Buck held his MA5D in one hand as his other continued to grasp the overhead grip. James' leg continued to bounce in anticipation as the craft slowed it sped and began to rapidly descend.
"Fifteen seconds!" The LZ was on the roof of a four-story apartment complex six blocks from their target. The craft never truly landed more just got within a reasonable dropping distance as the Helljumpers threw themselves from the craft. The team was unloaded and had secured the LZ in five seconds flat. James knew this was as close as they could've landed without causing unwanted attention.
"You get off here, good luck troopers," came the final call from the pilot as the transport Falcon sped back toward friendlier skies.
"Acknowledged, thanks for the lift, Alpha Nine out," Buck responded before signaling the team forward into the stairwell access that led from the roof into the building. Mickey and Dutch stacked up on either side of the door as the rest of the squad lined up off to the side.
"Alright standard formation, once inside Rookie takes point, Dutch, Mick, you're on his flanks, Romeo, Veronica, you come in behind me," Buck ordered. "Alright, breach."
On his word Dutch and Mickey both kicked in the door and entered the darkened stairwell sweeping for targets, James following right behind them and pushing past further into the black.
The building must have lost power.
"Zero visibility," James spoke over the comms.
"Everyone VISR's up," Buck ordered.
James activated his VISR, outlining his world in yellow allowing him to make out the interior of the building so that he may safely navigate it. His helmets IFF system worked in tangent with the VISR outlining friendlies in green and unrecognized as red, weapon systems appearing blue. Yet the only color projected to the trooper at the moment stood at a golden yellow.
Nobody's home.
"Clear, moving forward," James said as he took his first cautious steps into the building descending the staircase, the rest of Alpha following close behind him.
The team moved down the staircase, led by James, whose eyes were constantly scanning his forward sector wary of any hostiles that may be lurking in the darkness.
It took Alpha two minutes to descend the staircase and reach the bottom room, which contained a door leading into the building and one exiting.
"Alright, Dutch, Mick, stack up, Rook, move through the door," Buck spoke. Obeying their orders the squad shifted, as James deactivated his VISR before opening the door slowly, gun first, exiting the dark building into the brightly lit streets.
Abandon vehicles sat parked as discarded liter floated by on a gentle gust of wind, James eyed the street and rooftops solely, trusting Dutch and Mickey to cover their sectors as he made way toward the nearest cover which was a small compact sized car parked curbside in front of the team. Crouching down concealing most of his profile toward any unseen hostels, James continued to be on the lookout not turning to see the rest of his squad taking cover with him, cramped behind the small car.
"What's our next move Gunny?" Romeo asked scanning the building to their front with his SRS99.
"Good question, Captain?" Buck asked.
"The target is one block to our left and five blocks up. We should leave someone in the area to keep overwatch of enemy ground movements while the rest of the squad moves on the objective, we have roughly half an hour before the front reaches us, we need to grab our target and extract before than."
Great," Buck's sarcasm wasn't lost on anybody. "Romeo, take up position on the roof of that building. It should give you a good line of sight. Relay any information you can to us," Buck ordered as he pointed to an eight-story building across the street.
Romeo nodded before taking off across the street. "You got it Gunny."
"The rest of us will proceed to the target building. Once we get there we'll infiltrate it grab the bastard and get to the extraction point, which is?" Buck turned toward Dare.
"This plaza here!" She pinged the squad's city map within their HUDs.
"Um, hun?" Buck blankly asked.
"Yes dear," Veronica sighed.
"That's eight blocks away." Buck elaborated.
"Yes, yes it is Buck."
"Just so I understand what you're saying, you want us to hoof it five blocks to our objective, subdue them, then hoof it eight blocks to extraction, all within a half-hour?" Buck asked in disbelief.
"According to ONI, yes." Dare turned toward him.
This is fubar. James frowned.
"Alright, shiny! Gorram core world pice of shits" Buck muttered under his breath.
"What was that Buck!" Dare seethed.
"Nothin' honey, Romeo you got all that." He held a finger to his comm unit.
"Yeah, it's a pretty tall order Gunny." Romeo's concerned voice was not something James was used to hearing.
"Yeah don't I know it, but we got a job to do, so we're gonna get it done," Buck affirmed. "Wouldn't be an Alpha mission if it were easy, let's move it troopers!" And with that Alpha set out, now minus their sniper element.
Crouched low and sticking to as many side streets as possible the squad moved their way through the ghost town of a city. Ducking from cover to cover they came across the occasional dead civilian as they made their way toward their objective.
"Bastards," Dutch muttered angrily as he saw the corpse of a woman in her late thirties, nearly torn apart by some sort of explosive."
James lowered his head in reverence for the civilian.
Everywhere I go it's always the same, from New Jerusalem to Mombasa, it's no different, death and destruction never seem to cease.
"There's nothin' can be done for 'em now, we got a mission to complete, let's stay focused Alpha," Buck spoke his tone somber.
The echoing of boots of concrete and the forms of alien creatures to his front caused James' eyes to widen in momentary panic.
"Cover, cover, cover." His voice echoed over comm as he ducked behind a lip of a low wall lining a storefront, the rest of Alpha following suit.
Shit, did they make us, James grit his teeth as they hide from a small five-man patrol.
"Did you make 'em?" Buck questioned an edge present in his voice.
"Five contacts, small arms unslung, looked like a patrol," James responded quickly and evenly.
"Wait for 'em to pass, if they made us, they'd be shootin'," Buck ordered.
The team scrunched up to one another trying to limit their movement while lowering their profiles as much as possible.
"Romeo, you got eyes on?" Buck radio the sniper.
"Affirmative, Rook tells it right, want me to engage?"
"Negative, sit tight, if the shootin' does start, work your way down the chain of command."
"Roger that."
James' whole body was tense, his eyes locked on his motion tracker as the now present red dots slowly blipped by running parallel to the squad.
"Dutch, nades?" Buck asked.
"Four."
"Good."
Slowly the patrol moved along its way as the small group of Helljumpers awaited with bated breath. As the blips made it out of motion tracker range Buck sighed over the comms.
"Alright, well shiny, Romeo, keep an eye out for that patrol." Buck breathed a sigh of relief.
"Affirmative."
"Great, Alpha we're movin'."
Once the patrol past the ODST's moved on to their objective swiftly and silently quickly closing the distance toward their objective, James keeping a constant eye out as he remained on point. Soon the HellJumpers had eyes on the target building.
A three-story office building sat in front of the squad untouched by the horrors of war. From James's concealed position across the street, he could easily make out the three sentries guarding the doorway into the building. Their blue armor standing out amongst the muted greys of the city, assault rifles clutched in their taloned hands.
"So Veronica, any of your spook friends tell you where the target is located?" Buck asked.
"Second-floor left corner office," she replied checking a datapad she had clutched in her right hand, while her sidearm remained holstered.
James raised an eyebrow. Guess Buck does the shooting in the relationship.
"Romeo…you catch that?" Buck asked.
"Yup...I even got eyes on the top Raptor." Romeo responded. "He's in the corner office like the Captain said, though he's not alone. I count five other Raptors. Looks like they got some heavy weaponry. I spot what looks to be shotguns and assault rifles well within reach."
"Veronica, do we have any information on how many Raptors are in that building?" Buck asked.
The Captain shook her head no.
That's disappointing. James shifted uncomfortably as he spotted two of the sentries seemingly chatting boredom away.
Buck sighed in defeat. "Fine, fine, it looks like we'll have to do this the hard way, boy's pick your targets and fire on my command, once the sentries are down we're rushing the front, Dutch be ready with those grenades, Rookie you got he trauma kit?"
"Affirmative." James sighed.
"Excellent, Mickey, I need you ready in case they have any hardpoints set up."
"You got it Gunny!" The demo expert replied enthusiastically.
"And Dare."
"Yes, Buck?"
"Keep lookin' gorgeous,"
"Go to hell!"
"Hehehe."
General Secaucus Maclin
Date: June 18, 2556
Time: 08:45
Location: Unknown Colony.
This whole operation had been a mess from the start, General Maclin flexed his mandibles in irritation.
When they had gone through the relay 314, they had thought that they would encounter a primitive species, and integrate them into the Citadel Council with ease. What they found, however, was not some species taking its first steps into interstellar travel, but rather an extremely developed civilization of at least similar technology to the Turian's own.
Once through the relay, the frigate THS Gaerium collided with an orbital station that had been situated with the exit point if the relay.
Admiral Victus, believing it to be a military installation, had ordered the station fired upon deeming it hostile and a danger to the remainder of the patrol fleet.
"Knock that station out of the sky!" The Admiral roared. "What's Gaerium's situation?"
"They're reporting multiple hull breaches, shields have failed, and their eezo core is breached!" The communications ensign reported.
Maclin could only sit back from his position on the bridge and watch in parade rest as the situation unfolded around him.
"Route the Kilourus to damage control and rescue services. Tell the Vetter and Calgorum to split off with three frigates of their choosing each to scout the rest of the system. I want to know what else is in store for us."
"Yes, sir!" The ensign had responded. "Sir! I'm reading unidentified signatures originating in orbit around the planet, looks to be two cruiser class vessels."
"What are their drive core signatures reading as?" Admiral Victus looked down on the ensign from his command station within the CIC.
"Sir, I'm not sure as to whether it is a sensor malfunction, but I haven't detected any sign of element zero from either the station or the new ships, only trace amounts of bleed-off from the relay itself."
"Ensign, are you sure?"
That's impossible, the General twitched his mandibles in uncertainty. He stood behind the Captain and to his right, a station worthy of respect to any navy man, doubled in the respect, given the General's ground pounder status, yet even from this position of high honor the general grew restless.
Everything about this situation seems off, we've entered this unknown system, have engaged in open hostility by firing upon a station, and now are encountering ships that defy all previous beliefs regarding galactic travel, who knows their capabilities. Maclin felt that this was going to be a long day for sure.
"Sir, I'm-"
"Admiral! The Telvan has gone down!"
And in the single utterance of a spoken phrase, the tense atmosphere had shattered amid the CIC of the HSV Palavens Grace dreadnought of the Hierarchy's 3rd Fleet, shattered.
"Battle Stations, all crew report to your battle stations, section leads standby for orders, helmsman, bring us into the center of the formation. Recall the Vetter and Calgorum, I want all seven cruisers' tight formation around the Palaven's Grace. Where did the shot originate from?"
"Sir, the sensor's traced the round to this ship!" The ensign called over the sound of the ship's klaxon, on his word a 3D image of an unknown ship appeared before the Admiral, replacing the holographic map of the system.
The vessel to the General appeared to be angular in nature with long vertical running armored plates, with two massive rear-facing thrusters and a visible center along the command structure located toward the aft of the ship with viewing on forward-facing operations.
"Tell the Decimus and Vetter to break off with six frigates and flank their formations, I want those ships racked from bow to stern!"
"Yes, admiral!"
"Sir?"
"Report," Victus' snapped to an awaiting ensign.
"Reading a massive power signature originating from the secondary vessel!"
"Have all ships brace for evasive maneuvers!" Victims roared in response.
"Sir the Vetter's just been struck, shot hit just off the face of her bow, starboard wings been clipped!"
"All ships within effective firing range open fire!"
The ship vibrates under the strain of the dreadnoughts fire gun firing.
"Sir, cruisers Decimius, Calgorum, Jarris, and Algoris, are opening fire."
"Order all frigates forward, swarm the enemy and exploit weaknesses."
For the next five minutes, there was silence as the General stood behind the admiral. The only sound heard aboard the CIC was the report from various servicemen across the Grace monitoring systems, reports from shots originating from the alien ships, and casualties sustained.
Two frigates were lost as they engaged the alien vessels in close quarters combat. Guardian laser fought a losing battle against some form of defense matrix of overlapping fields of heavy turret fire and, more discouraging, missile barrages in overwhelming quantity.
"Spirits!" Victus cursed. "What are these things made of?" The General heard the Admiral mutter under his breath.
"Sir, we just lost the Jarrus, shot hit their core, it went critical, she was lost with all hands." A mournful atmosphere followed the news.
"Then let their sacrifice not be in vain, pull all cruisers back to maximum engagement range, tell the frigates already engaged, to pick at current wounds until they bleed out, these things are tough but not invincible, we will bring them down. Obtineo Ordo!" Victus roared hands firmly clasped behind his back.
"Usque ad mortem." The ensigned chorused back spirits lifted by the navy's old adage.
The words themselves were a little grim. Maclin twitched his mandibles as his eyes observed the system map which depicted ship positions. Then again with four ships down, and one in critical perhaps this was the time for such drastic words.
Yet luck had proved serendipitous for the Turain patrol fleet as a lucky strike from a frigates guardian laser system struck a key point within one of the alien ships causing a chain reaction that rent the ship in two in a series of fiery explosions.
Despite the nearly divine sight before the beleaguered bridge crew, no one spoke, no shouts of joy nor victory, as even the second unknown beast fall victim the swarming frigates, they still had a job to do and they knew it.
"Ensign Nealius, I want a full scan of that world, those ships were defending something on that planet, General Maclin," Victus turned toward the career soldier behind him.
"Admiral?"
"Ready your men, I want boots on the ground within the hour. We have a mess to clean up here, but we've just engaged a space flight species with operational non-element zero spacecraft. This warrants an investigation"
"Even a full invasion?" It wasn't necessarily disobedience, no true Turian would behave in such a manner to a superior officer.
Yet these are interesting times indeed, perhaps a little more thought could be put into our actions.
Victus's eyes scanned Maclin, his mandibles idly twitching, before his predatory eyes seemed to narrow by a fraction.
"You have your orders, General."
"Yes, Admiral."
So be it.
Almost as soon as they had landed the Turians encountered fierce resistance from the planet's military.
The unknown species tactics were unconventional at best, and damn infuriating at worst, they had utilized fast-moving light armored fighting vehicles to catch the Turians off guard attacking their flanks as they tried to establish a beachhead for the rest of the invasion force.
Once additional forces had landed and the Turian's pushed further into the colony, they had expected to encounter some meaningful hardpoints and weighted counter-attacking forces, yet to the contrary, they encountered none of that, but rather small mobile infantry elements that would hop from building to building in the face of the Turians main advance halting their progress with short but intense firefights before disappearing into the maze-like city.
At every turn, the aliens had denied Maclin the stand-up fight that the Turians expected from a combatant. Turian arms doctrine had not evolved since the days of the Krogan and it was beginning to become apparent to Maclin.
How do you overwhelm an enemy that refuses to fight?
Despite this inconvenience, the invasion force pushed forward. They had captured most of the city, including what appeared to be their garrison's barracks, before they had finally encountered true resistance.
In what the General could only call a last-ditch effort or desperate measure, they attacked. In full force with what the General assumed was everything they had.
Tanks with devastating main cannons, flanked by lightly armored troop transports and recon vehicles dove straight into the front column of the Turian's center flank overcoming the Turian's own light armor with devastating ease, and punching through toward the command column. Foot bound infantry compliments had followed the armored push trying to keep open the saline as best they could, yet were quickly overwhelmed themselves in turn as Maclin ordered the Turian flanks to collapse center cutting off the aliens offensive.
Maclin had thought the plan bold, brash, and beyond reckless, yet at the same time almost disturbingly Turian.
And not at all what I had expected given the day's events.
He holstered his pistol as he examined the carnage around his forward op center, which had come under direct attack as the lead elements of the alien's counter-attack had broken through his retreating center's forces, and began their assault on the command unit before the flanks could move to support.
Almost worked too.
He had estimated at the moment that nearly eighty percent of the colony's defense force must have either been killed, wounded, or captured in the assault.
More likely killed. He thought grimly as a few of his men rounded up what little prisoners they had managed to collect. Whether due to a translation error within the Turian's omni-tools or perhaps the very culture of the aliens, Maclin did not know, the aliens seemed to fight with a will and determination to rival that of the Krogan. While not nearly being as physically intimidating as the previously mentioned reptilian species from Tuchunka, the aliens being shorter and softer than Turians baring a striking resemblance to the mono-gendered Asari from Thessia. Yet the zealous ferocity, and skill that they fought with, left far more of his men in body bags than he had ever seen within his long military career.
Or wanted to see.
A weathered sigh had left the Generals mandibles as he starred over a long column of recently bagged dead servicemen which laid within the shade of a bombed-out building in a courtyard behind what the General had been lead to believe was the colonies government capital building.
It was while examining the bagged bodies on his men who had fallen, that the general had received word from Admiral Victus, that additional hostile ships appeared in high orbit, from some sort of stabilized wormhole of all things, and were engaging the Turain fleet in close quarters combat.
What would follow would be the worst three hours of his military career.
Reports of enemies dropping into the city utilizing some form of low orbit single-occupant vehicles had started to sprinkle in soon to be followed by reports of apparent enemy special forces units causing entire platoons to disappear around various locations of the city. The only conclusive report about the units was their black armor and comparatively advanced weaponry to anything the Turians had seen thus far from their enemy. These units were able to rally the remnants of the colonial defense force, and easily push back forces three times their size inflicting heavy casualties and frustrating the general to no end.
It was when reports of enemy dropships started to come in, and the city's skies were filled with hostile air units, which decimated what few hardpoints of resistance Maclin had been able to organize, that the general knew the situation was hopeless.
He had requested an immediate evac of all remaining ground forces, and Admiral Victus relented stating he wouldn't be able to maintain his position in orbit for long as the fleet was being ripped apart. A full retreat order had been sent out as all Turian forces fell back to the generals' new headquarters, which had been set up in some office complex a couple of city blocks from the government building he had stationed himself at before.
"Admiral you can't leave my men down here! Knowing how these demons fight, we'll be slaughtered to the man!" The general was enraged, his men were being left behind.
"I'm sorry General, my position is hopeless I've lost ten more vessel's with multiple ships reporting shields on the verge of collapse, they've already pushed us out of orbit away from the city, and the skies are clogged with the enemy's craft. Evac is hopeless. All I can do is preserve what's left of my fleet, we're retreating to the other side of the relay. Hold for as long as you can General Maclin, I will return with additional forces to relieve you, Victus out." And with that, the connection, and the general's hope, was severed.
He sat there within the corner office room he had made his headquarters, surrounded by his aids, which attempted to bring chaos to their retreat from the frontline. His talons gripped the alien table in anger.
"I swear I'm going to kill that sonofabitch!" Maclin swore under his breath.
The sound of gunfire from the hallway called his attention, as he and his aids, armed themselves with various weapons and took up defensive positions around the room.
Spirits? Maclin questioned as he aimed his service pistol at the door leading to the hallway.
They can't be here already, Maclin's eyes widened in terror. Has our frontline collapsed that badly? He shook in fear and panic as he examined his men. Silent they stood, firm grips and squared shoulders ready to lay down their lives for him and the Hierarchy. He knew that on his order they'd follow him into hell itself, as was the way of the Turian.
And I have led them to it, and a great many won't be coming home cause of it. He knew what he had to do. Not one more.
"Men lay down your arms," Maclin let his pistol fall to the floor.
"Sir?" One of his aids questioned in disbelief.
"Drop your weapons and raise your hands in the air and hope they understand what we're doing," Maclin spoke softly, his voice drained from war.
Confused expression adorned the faces of many of his men, he knew they were just as afraid if not more than he was and didn't feel comfortable with his orders.
"It's okay boys, you've done more than anyone could have asked of you in service to Palavin, there's no shame in this, let them down." He spoke as a father would to his children.
Slowly one by one, they let their arms fall to the floor as they assumed the position of surrender.
As the last rifle fell, the door to the command room was blown down as black armor-clad soldiers stormed the room with precision. Fear gripped Maclin as he thought perhaps they'd open fire yet after they cleared their sectors of the room one by one the sounded off something in their barbaric language. Maclin knew that they were declaring the room clear. "I know you don't understand us...but we surrender ourselves...into your custody...unconditionally." Maclin nervously spoke.
One of them approached the General, his armor black like the rest with a single white stripe running down the center of his helm, he slung his rifle over his shoulder attaching it to his back as he spoke short words to the general as he brought from his side pouch some form of restraints. The very presence of these soldiers demanded respect as they started systematically restraining his men and collecting weapons.
General Maclin complied with the soldier in front of him as he lowered his hands in front of him holding them out toward the soldier, wrist to wrist.
Whatever comes next, everything will change everything, Maclin thought as the restraints tightened his wrists together.