Struggle (The Cole List)

by Watsi

On the opening year of the Harvest Campaign, Cole writes his protocol, with some tweaks, and with that, humanity changes to face the alien menace, striving for survival. On temporary halt.

6. Origin

So… yeah, I may own the ideas here but Halo is the property of 343 industries and Microsoft.

….

….

Huge shutouts to Amir, who has helped me with plot points and ideas and has helped me with my writing.

…

Also shoutouts to King of Summer for his ideas :D

...

Annnnnd to 'Guest', thanks for pointing one of my errors, I'll get it fixed uvu.

The M4 Magnum was the predecessor to the M6, introduced in nightfall, but I changed it to an M6 now for consistency uvu

And I will try to fix the fight on the underlevels :D

And there it was an M6B, in Silent Storm :D

…..

Also, a note on some things used here:

– "text" –: For contextual thought and narration.

'()': Author interjection

– "[]"–: Means character thought.

– "{}" –: Character whisper.

'*': Something that will be explained at the bottom.

Cursive or Italic is used for ship names and to highlight.

Bold is just to highlight too or to intone something.

Now, thank you in advance mates, and sorry for leaving you waiting for too long, it not might seem like much stuff written for that, but I want to get something better for you to read than what I was previously; that's why I love when you leave reviews, be 'em good or bad it helps me, I'm not perfect but I think my story idea is good, and with enough guidance, I might be able to make a good story from it.

So please, please, any error, please tell me.

And… Most of this and the next chapters will occur before Chapter 3, I was a tad hasty to do things, so I hope these things fix a tad.

And I hope this is something you'll enjoy! :D

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

"Musa would love to see one of these creatures dead."

That sentence made echoes on the young soldier's mind, and while he went on a Pelican to a special mission to Persia his mind echoed with what happened on the time before that, the mission on Harvest, the defeat of the Virtue colony's insurrection and... When his life changed.

---

Somewhere, in 2525:

"I'm sorry, Soren. You can't serve in this way. You'll be able to serve, but not in a combat position." – A female voice came.

"All I want is to be given the choice" –He said.– "You always were willing to give me a choice in the past. Can't you do it again this time?"

She shook her head.

"I'm sorry, Soren. Not this time."

---

ONI–S2 complex ON–045

Somewhere in 2526, a month after the battle of Redstow.

A reinforced–concrete structure rested lost far from Szolnok a square surrounded by fences and defensive positions and with its only road being guarded by four people on navy BDUs; their faces bored as they are expecting for the trio of Wombats to detect anyone coming through the near forest, leaving them as just the final defense before an enemy could storm the facility if they somehow evaded the other posts, and with that, they smiled as they saw probably the only interesting event of today, a group of pelicans coming, their IFFs being recognized by the drones above as friendly, Navy ones.

One of the soldiers left her SPNKR aside, preferring to sit and wait for the eminence that probably was going to come down from one of the transports.

A marine carrying a DMR spoke then.– "Top ONI brass?"– She asked trying to understand the flock of six dropships coming at this technically secret installation.

"Nah, Parangosky and her bootlickers don't like bombastic presentations." –Answered another marine, a woman with a raspier, more mature voice.– "And we also haven't had a notice of anyone above O-6 for a while, so I doubt it."

"Probably an envoy of light materiel and personnel for the war effort?" – An unsure explanation came from the only male of the four, who then grabbed some binoculars to try to confirm his theory.

"Good idea, but they would've brought an albatross if that was the case." – Replied the older woman.

The marine that had left the launcher then neared the male of the group, sitting her hands on his shoulder as she tried to take a sneak peek at what he was seeing through the binoculars.

Her eyes soon shrank in surprise at the same time as the male marine, and she immediately ran for the launcher while the man grabbed his DMR and crouched behind a concrete barrier; the other two were left confused, but they soon got an answer to why their teammates were now preparing for defense.

"The birds are armed with Phoenix missiles and more…." – The man stated with fear.– "All of them are armed to the teeth!"

Every Marine or even Soldier worth their salt would know what that meant, siege, something confirmed by one of the machines sending a few flashes to the UAV fighters above them, Streak missiles which exploded and downed the air defenses of the complex. Soon other flashes were directed to what they supposed were the locations of the defensive towers and the outer defense outposts.

Pseudo earthquakes could be felt due to the explosives going off, and sounds of bullets flooded the distance.

They were under attack by some pretty organized insurrectionists that probably knew about the extents of the war against the aliens, and they were going to reveal uncensored information, or worse, some of the experiments carried on this facility.

And when the marine was about to grab the SPNKR to down one of those birds; a trio of successive sounds akin to a coin knocking on a metal gate came to everyone's ears and she soon felt something sharp on her back, and then nothing as some metal had pierced on her neck, with one bullet going as far as penetrating her throat and crashing against a window of security stand, panicking the officer in it.

"Where!?" – Shouted the DMR–armed marine while trying to activate his rifle's thermal sight to get a hold on the enemy that just killed his companion, as it probably was a well–trained ODST to have that accuracy.

The oldest marine walked towards her dead teammate while looking at the trees on the zone, her MA5C on hand and the fingers on the grip ready to fire.– "I got nothing, be prepared for a flash and shoot!"

"Understood corporal!" – Answered the DMR marine, now sitting next to the third guard there.– "Karimov, got visual on the target?" – He asked before continuing to search for the attacker, getting a simple 'No' from his companion.

The older woman then crouched near the deceased body of her teammate as the officer on the stand alerted the facility of the attack. And then she saw the hits that had killed her were separated by millimeters, the flesh in-between had receded due to the shock; that firing was almost recoilless and damn accurate to do that.

"Tremblay is down for good!" – She shouted with a hint of sadness as she grabbed her dogtags and turned to the SPNKR.

But after seeing that, her mind got clouded for a second as she recovered from the shock of seeing a friend dead in a so strange situation; so she looked down, not being able to move a single muscle.– [No, later will be time to mourn] – She told herself.

And so a burst of energy gave her the control of her hands and her body enough to bend herself a little and get a hold of a 102mm AA/AT weapon to dispense fire against the problem, namely the birds on the air that threatened more than just one soldier which her team could take on. But as she stood up to turn, her peripheral view got a look of the officer now lying dead on his seat and the shadow of a Pelican above her, followed by the IFFs of the other marines disappearing from her VISR.

She hadn't snapped out of the surprise quick enough.

Soon another sound came, another metallic clash, and she knew she was dead, so she just closed her eyes, and accepted it.

Her body dropped to the ground, her weapon now being thrown far away by a figure on a full black suit and a yellow visored–helmet that ran to the building followed by ten other figures similarly clothed, an ODST team with blue visors, all ready to storm the facility.

---

Inside, on a cryosection buried deep on the ONI–owned zone, a white-coated woman touched a panel on the pod where a blurry yet massive figure rested on a tube-fed stasis.

"Is her armor ready?"– Asked the apparent scientist, getting a nod from a technician opening an abnormally–sized crate.

A black-clothed man opened his eyes in surprise and grabbed the woman's arm.– "But what about the others?" – He asked – "Are we going to abandon the other ones?"

The woman gently moved his hand from her shoulder and smiled.– "Don't be silly, we will deal with the menace, and keep working on them, do not worry."

"Understandable, but if this fails, I will give these kids a proper burial."

The woman nodded and kept her smile as she now looked at the pod, trying to get a good look at what was inside.– "Good, then it's time to wake up our protector, isn't it, Margaret?"

And the human inside opened her eyes.

---

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

…..

---

Ten minutes before:

A boring day in the office:

On a room occupied by five people, of whom one rested on wheelchairs, was one particular bald young man, with an overly muscular body concentrated on some datapads and papers.

[This is gotta be the worst day of this month]– Thought huge dark-skinned man cladded on a full-suit black ONI BDU as he felt his implant leg aching due to the recent 'overhaul' it had received at the hands of some sketchy lieutenant on the robotics section, all the while he had to keep up reading the manual.

But there were worse things than that though, the air conditioner was not enough to cool down his body, and he, as every day on his life was unconsciously comparing himself to the defects the others had, all situations that got Soren desperate for something new to distract him from the hellhole the other research teams called the 'Creep analysts room'

He wanted something else than shuffling and reading boring documents on tech that he had almost no implication on save for reviewing the calculus all to get some rest on the night and to let the time pass until he had another choice than this.

He quietly sighed and kept thinking while his eyes moved through the papers.

How does one go from being the literal hopes of the most powerful entity on the human territory to a washout of a program, a failure like Musa, who rejected leg implants or an exoskeleton and decided that he'd just exercise until becoming as strong as Soren was, or Cassandra a crystal boned girl who was instructing Fhajad –another failure like him– on some notes about slipspace before she went to practice with her biofoam injector prototypes, without mentioning those on other installations here on Reach; every single one of them, the once strongest humans now left as the statistic failure.

The answer was: Luck. He and those here –or in Vats waiting to be rehabilitated– were all unlucky enough to not be in the group of 33… No, 32 after Sam sacrificed himself for humanity… No! The lucky 30 after Tsubasa and Oscar decided that they would not live any longer after getting that gift, that they hated being the pinnacle of humanity so much that they would prefer to die.

Those idiots, they were his… Teammates and –they– were lucky enough to pass through all of the augmentations almost unscathed, they got the opportunity to reach greatness but they instead betrayed humanity by surrendering, not even joining their… crippled comrades in other roles. How could they reject being amongst the ones who received their flashy armors and now were defending humanity from the greatest threat known to mankind aside from the now–diminishing insurrection.

Screw that, as every washout thought: they were ready to join their 'successfully augmented' compatriots as even in their disfigured, damaged form, they were trained, they were ready to go to fight or at least serve in a better way, they just needed some help to be more… proper to be used in full capacity against those who tried to attack the ones murdering innocent humans, their people, they should be given an opportunity.

No, he should concentrate on what he was doing instead of thinking as Fhajad does, swearing against Halsey and the universe for his situation; Soren was already doing service for humanity like this, reading papers, sending proposals, and studying.

Because, even if things weren't like he hoped, he could in a worse position.

He could be dead.

A sigh came from the giant man who then looked towards the image of that blue Sky showing itself through the glass window above them. So after he calmed himself after that mental outrage, he took a mental picture of his fellow 'crips' and smiled.

Soon he flexed his insufferably–massive upper body muscles to relax his body a tad while he saw a beta 'civilian' version of 'The Cole–Volkov Manual to Fight Humanity's enemies' to reflect upon it a little bit, so, he sluggishly moved his arms to then struggle trying to get a hold of the datapad as his deformed hands impeded much room to grab it without crushing it.

"Brilliant, isn't it? Just condenses explanations and data for everyone, no wonder ONI hates the guy." – Spoke a talkative Musa who ditched a file of Arenal, the 35th system attacked by the covenant, and the 1st one to be reclaimed by the UNSC new policy of guerrilla space fighting; all to see what he called his 'brother' was looking at.– "So, what do you think? In what section are you, have you read 'bout the enemy classifications yet?"

"I-… suppose he – Cole-, that he won't use it too much, sub…." – The hairless Spartan answered, arching his brows, denoting a degree of uncertainty thanks to the visible muscles moving.– "Sublcassifications are not worth different, uh, treatments, according to him."

Musa patted Soren on the shoulder and smiled, prompting him to continue; in the background, the Marine guarding also smirked as he probably knew these kids were trying their best to humor each other given their situation.

The paralytic Spartan then spoke again, with a jovial tone. – "Well, makes sense, the CRS is weaker technically than a corvette, yet they say it's a light cruiser, and on the other hand, they sometimes call the CAS a Supercarrier because there exists some class we've not seen before, plus, they are all bulbs, they look like made by a clay craftsman." – He reasoned about their enemy, trying to amuse Soren with some knowledge.

The guard on the room, a marine that by some astronomical coincidence was one of those who trained the Spartans; stepped in to comment something, trying to intervene in the conversation so the young ones might have some interaction outside them decided to step in while they were talking; after all, he felt a tad close to these kids.

"Yeah, they are all similar, ain't them?" – He said trying to make a funny comment, smiling genuinely as Musa awkwardly smiled.– "I–uh…"

The marine was about to speak again but he saw the faces of the other kids there, especially Soren's who instead of getting a neutral, emotionless face, had a slight frown. it was clear that they did not want to be talking openly with someone that wasn't one of them.

Thanks to god he had some experience with them, otherwise he probably would have experienced an even worse reception.

"They indeed are, sir." – Said Soren, demonstrating something that Musa didn't have the rashness to show: coldness towards non–spartans.

Time to defuse the bomb before they are received with even shorter answers; he knew how people like that one kid John or Kelly tended to be when in a bad mood, his back still hurt after all.

So, boom, the manual from Mendez for training with super-strong kids said clearly, he had to get out for a while and show respect to the kids.

A quick idea came to his head so he looked to his back and his body, getting his Magnum out of the holster and offering it to Musa.

"I-Go…Gotta take 'a time on the bathroom'." – He started before finally getting his idea working properly.– "So you, Lieutenant Musa, are in charge of the safety of everyone." – Soon the gun was on Musa's desk, his augmented arms getting a good grip on the hand cannon.– "Everyone, be safe."

"Acknowledged, sergeant, thank you."

"Yes, sarge."

"I will do my best"

"Yes sir."

A thank you and not–so–cold answers, hell yeah, he made it, Mendez would be proud, go him.

[These kids never change, God forgive me for not helping them more]– Trotter thought before moving from their desks.– "Remember, if something happens, you stay here."

The marine after speaking like a dad to his children just left, closing the door with a lock behind him. Everyone kept calm for a few seconds, but after that, they all exchanged looks and smiled, save for Soren who still was a tad confused by the Marine's actions.

A dark-skinned girl with frail arms and thin but strong legs got out of her seat, going to the frame of the door and sitting her ear on it. And thus she waited for some seconds, her face locked in concentration.

"I think he is gone." – She said smiling, looking at the group behind her.– "Now we can speak freely, alright!"

At this, Musa chuckled with a hint of mischievousness before Fhajad moved his wheelchair to the center of the room and began spinning until his cyber–eye sent a shockwave for him to get calm, prompting most to laugh and him to just return to his place.

"So… Anyone learned something important?" – Cassandra soon asked, giving a clap after, only to feel sudden pain due to her bones feeling that impact even after the dampening of the exoskeleton, something that his brothers noticed.

Musa rushed to see her, just to be stopped by her smiling and going to sit, Musa sighed and relaxed after that, but just in case he took a look at the biofoam injector.

A chatter between everyone ensued in the following moments, mocking the officers there, how some talked, about the things their friends (other Spartans) exploits, something he didn't like doing due to that feeling he still kept on his heart, that notion of being… Different, from the others, but he nevertheless tried to give sentences to add to the conversation; because Cassandra was pretty happy talking about what John told her about how he invaded a covenant major planet, apparently the capital of some sector.

And Fhajad hated that, saying that they could probably invade reach if they wanted; so to not push it any further they moved into other themes. Soren just added things, being on the sideline, enjoying the time with his… Friends.

Amid the chatter unrelated to their work as advisors, technicians, and military planners, Cassandra, spoke again, interrupting Fhajad's trembling discussion with Soren about 11th dimension physics, something the two would get very into if it wasn't for our heroin.

"Yo, I remembered what I wanted to tell ya'!" –She began with a cheerful tone, getting the attention of the other people present.– "Look, look, I was taking a stroll on the training grounds some clicks from here, ya'now, the one with the tank prototypes" – She began, clearly excited as she remembered what happened.– "And I asked cap–Sali to give me a ride on a pelican to space, becuz' I saw they built a new space elevator, a pretty ragtag one and I wanted to see it a–."

"Wait, stop right there sis' because I've been there, Fhajad is the one designing prototypes here and we all went to take some air a few weeks ago; and that wasn't on sight th-" – Musa began to speak before being silenced by the happy Cassandra showing him her palms of her frail arms in a sign of that she was about to talk again.

"Yo, lemme finish, I swear it'll be worth it bro."

And she spoke again, with her tone now gaining the attention of Soren, who remembered the place, the neat rides on the old tanks being refurbished, the occasional test–firings; something different from the usual desktop work.

"That's the thing boy, they spedran' it, to fuel something on space, they brought a Punic and the Graff Spee*, and I think they are tryin' to make something big and, and…." – Her hands soon went to draw something, leaving everyone hanging on her story for a bit until she showed them the image of a bulb being carried by a rough drawing of a freighter.– "I think they are using the thing from Redstow."

Everyone kept silent for a second, until Fhajad began laughing, something that soon everyone shared, including Soren; why if he did not encounter anything funny on that? Because he felt included, they were his family, and laughs are contagious too.

"Oh, ok, yes, I'll bite the thing about the ships probably being fused, but using covvie tech? Are you even sure that we won in Redstow?" – Asked Musa.– "I mean, not even in Harvest have we been able to recover anything useful from a ship, it was probably some 'sektion uan' joke."

Cassandra gave a cheeky smile and winked, then she opened a file on her terminal and showed the images of an ODST running through a purplish corridor; then, a female voice sayin that she updated the route; and finally the troop going through a door along with other shock troopers, where they shot at some elites and then saw how the other covvies didn't even move, with one particular Major dropping his blade.

"[THEY SURRENDERED?!]- Everyone save for Cass thought and silence struck the room, the three youngsters were surprised enough that they did not have words to describe what just happened.

The Black girl got even more excited and just kept talking, maybe to see how would their teammates react.– "Captain Salieri gave me the permission and I saw it yesterday so booom, it all made sense; they gonna build some crazy thing up there." – Spoke the happy, almost epidemically warm girl who was noticeably happy that humanity was making big strides towards evening the field.– "So whatcha think?" – She enthusiastically asked.

"Just whoa. Maybe we will get a human plasma lance?"- Fhajad joked while Musa tried to come up with something.

"Nah, it will be some 'supership' for sure."- He responded.

Amongst all of this, the bald man focused on one thing instead, she was taken outside, with no explanation, and they were not given permission to just go outside; not since Randall stopped Soren from 'getting out' of the UNSC, so he raised his hand like he still was on the classes with Deja; getting his 'friends' to quell their ideas in favor of letting the massive man speak.

"But, I don't get it, why were you on a ride there… in the first place?" – He asked.– "Did something happen? Because we pretty much spend our time together; here, and… You know."- He tried to explain with a hint of doubtfulness in his own words.

Again, silence, the accusation was there or at least the implication. Soren never struck as the possessive guy, but something told the other Spartans that he didn't quite like secrets even if he was quiet enough to not appear as someone interested in social implications.

In all of that, the paralytic Spartan understood what Soren tried to say, so his abnormally quick brain worked and soon began flooding him with crazy ideas, but he tried to calm down and better just go safe: "Well, yeah, our Hulk is right." – Fhajad scoffed.– "Last time you were in for a walk was like a week ago, and you told us it was for some air, you keepin' secrets, Cass?"

Musa, less struck by the situation; knew that there was something shady, but it seemed more like a private thing, so he tried to vouch for Cass' innocence in hiding something, but Soren spoke, his voice echoing on the room, stopping the 'big brother'.

"What would the invitation be for then? Did you got yourself a… Date?" – Soren asked with a hint of hope, making a joke that made everyone get a shy, awkward smile at the action, maybe he just wanted to see how she reacted, or he would like to see her happy with something new, but any intention was hidden behind a stiff face showing little to no emotion.– "Because... Ah–he… As…" – He tried to speak up.– "As your- teammate Cassy.."

"[He called her Cassy but didn't call her sister, I swear I'm going to die before he does that.]"- Musa thought while Soren tried to regain his will to talk, which had been lost after his little incident with the insurrectionist.

"I would, like to know."

Full bomb.

"Yo, your throat is cured now?" – Mocked the surprised Fhajad, not having heard him say so many words since the depression came after the augmentations and the thing with Partch.– "But you said it brother, what's up with that, Cass?"

"Hey, maybe a promotion that you are hiding to not get us jealous?" – Prompted Musa to act like the big brother he liked to try and be.

The tension was rising for the young officer; enough so even the amused face of Musa struck her as slightly off, so she just answered with honesty, looking a bit down while she sat with caution of not damaging her crystal arms.

"I was offered– " – She began.

"What? A nail job? Extra juice fo– " – Fhajad interrupted, being shut by a gentle slap of Musa; the spasmodic Spartan just kept his interest hidden between the sounds of the medical exoskeleton parts colliding due to his disease acting up.

"Ejem." – Cass continued.– "Well, the thing is: They offered me a possibility, get me a good prosthetic and work for ONI at the Medical station on Emerald Cove to work with Bayer Corp for the injector system, they said that this would allow every soldier to live, I would be on par with Alexei Huang* if I get it right!" – Cass finished with a hopeful look on her face as if expecting comprehension from her 'bros'.

Soren smiled, but felt a pain deep within him, something his friends also showed due to the tilt of their heads after saying that; and if he knew them well, it was because they would be separated and because she was given an opportunity to work on something bigger than them, again being sidelined. So they felt jealousy when they should be happy.

"I know this is sudden, but I showed an ODST helmet with one of my early versions of the biofo' injector, and then, boom, I was on a ride talking about my future, I would live a normal civilian life!." – She excused herself, knowing her brothers would feel bad.– "And, I– I… I heard! That, it would be difficult, but eventually, they would heal yo– "

Musa was the first to react then; trying to defuse the situation.

"We understand sis, don't worry." – And he smiled after saying that.

But it didn't work.

"I–am –I am very sorry! I don't want to leave you, but I, they told me this was going to be for hu– "

"For humanity, it isn't the first time… I've heard it." – Soren spoke.– "And please do not say it; we all know the implications, our turn may or not come, but we all can do something for our people; right?"- He tried to say with a faint smile.

A fully eloquent speech from him, enough to make Cassandra smile and Musa sigh in relief, but Fhajad just frowned and decided to not pay attention, so the big bro instantly jumped, hugging his fellow Spartan as to try to calm him.

"Brother, she will do her best, she isn't going to die, nor abandon us forever, we might be lightyears away, but we will still be family." – Musa tried to explain to him while Cassandra looked down.

This was weird, they were supposed to be united, a Spartan team is never separated, the whole reason why they were on teams is because they were better that way, that's the thought they imprinted on them all; that's how they helped Fhajad make in record time the first prototype of the Alacran Tank, or how they wrote the revisions of the Cole Protocol and The Manual. But separations are never easy.

And ever since Soren tried to escape they had been closer than ever, or at least Musa always tried it.

A rash head movement came from the Fhajad, his spasms covering most of the emotional response; and it was to be expected, he was barely 15, and while her sister had only her arms' bones disintegrated, he suffered from mass bone de–ossification blindness on one eye, mutations on his remaining bones, elephantiasis on his torso, and Parkinson's disease. Gone was the prankster that coped with that, Fhajad just felt bad, he would be without one of his family again, and he couldn't hope to be like them.

He would be left alone eventually, he knew.

Soren could get a Mjolnir to supplement his legs; a weapon could be crafted for his hands, he could use the strength that topped Sam's to good use against Brutes.

Cassandra could be recovered, and her work could catapult her to be the Halsey of 26th-century medicine.

Even Musa could be outfitted with an EVA exoskeleton for his legs and right arm to be sent to fight.

But he would always remain as the most crippled of the Spartans, Kirk and René were Halsey's priority, she was already working day and night to recover them; but when he had asked for a way, she said: "Your great intellect is still your best tool, you are working for humanity even if not at the spotlight, but if I can, I will try to help your condition", a spit on the face as he saw it.

Thus the situation turned to orbit around S-084 as Cassandra noticed the dim state of her brother, and Musa knew this dilemma was worse on him than anyone else; as even people like René had more of a chance of being fixed than him.

Soren didn't know how to react, he always felt left aside, and with this, that happened once again, but his mind got things right when he saw that Fhajad began tearing from his only natural eye.

But someone could not leave Fhajad to keep thinking like that, he had already dismissed his thoughts of jealousy and selfishness some minutes before; maybe he could snap 'Fha' out of it.

So a 240kg (530lbs) human stood up, his artificial leg screeching due to the immense weight of its user, and he moved towards the young person on the wheelchair, the two and a half meter (8.2ft) behemoth opened his massive arms to envelop someone crying.

And the squirming kid hugged his brother, feeling that this massive man could protect him, that he would not be alone, that he had family and that even if they were separated, or that they do not get to serve how they all dreamt to do… There will always be one Spartan to fight your inner enemies, as they did on training, as they did on their first missions. So Fhajad smiled, Musa joined, and Cassandra slowly moved as to not overuse her body due to the lack of trust she had for the orthopedical exoskeletons.

"Please, I was unlucky enough already." – Fhajad said quickly while sobbing on Soren's shoulder.– "Never abandon me." – He pleaded.

"I would never, you are my brother." – Musa began saying before something came up. – "We all are."

"We might be the last ones from Purple team, but we still stand united"- Said Cassandra.– "And if something happens, I'll write your names after mine"- She joked to get his brother's hopes up.

"{Thanks}"- Fhajad shyly said, lightly smiled.

"We can serve, but we will never stop being the people we were before."- Soren tried to calm his teammate. – "After all, as Musa said, I… Am your bro-" – The bald youngster was about to finish just as something came into everyone's focus.

[Almost] – Musa thought.

Tremors could be felt.

Multiple, successive quakes of earth, like massive footsteps moving the ground.

Everyone snapped out of the emotional trance, they had cried just to get into a paintball war before, Fhajad got Cassandra on to seat on his lap and he went for the foundation of the room on the corner left from the door a quake at least an 8.2 meant that no matter how well had ONI built this, some debris was cursed to fall over them.

Soren on the other hand opened the door by brute-forcing its lock and remained under the metal door's frame and Musa hid under a desk.

But the slight quakes did not stop if at all, they seemed to get stronger; the sound of the edification and the floor moving though wasn't enough to mask something else.

On the roof, feet were moving, and the sound of an engine flying overhead could be heard, and everyone save for Musa could use their augmented hearing to know that the ones on the roof were wearing something heavy.

Then, a window broke in the distance, with many more following.

Soren got a look at what was happening as he saw through the window of the corridor how an ODST on the other side of the park in the middle of the facility was rappelling, followed soon by ten other operators, shots thrown at them, responded with the same amount of violence.

"What is happening!?" – Screamed Fhajad while wiping his tears off.

But before the massive man could answer, he was pushed by someone, and everyone got nervous due to the sudden action just to realize that it was Trotter, the marine that guarded them, and he soon closed the door and reached for his MA5C, looking to the windows above the Spartans.

Soren laid on the ground for a few seconds before realizing and standing next to the soldier.

Musa immediately prepared the Magnum after turning the desks they were working on to create a barricade around Cassandra and Fhajad to protect them, and crouching behind one to get a good shooting point.

"We are under attack by an unknown force." – The sergeant said, his sight still fixed on the window.

Soren quickly tried to reason, speaking immediately after remembering the details of the enemy's armor.– "What? Bu–…aren't those ODSTs?" – He babbled with doubt.

"What!?" – Screamed Fhajad not understanding and quickly moving into theories.– "Imitations by the Tribute insurrectionists?"

"Possible, might be them, or maybe its Viery territory–based CMA sponsored militia." – Cassandra tried to explain.

"No, they have Battlerifles, only forces on the ships and the Danger zone have 'em." – Replied Soren.

The Sergeant just kept frowning and looking upwards while the constant sound of feet came while the bullets on the corridor sounded like their origin was getting closer.

"Whatever it is kids, you engage, if I get downed, don't play hero, surrender, I'm not letting you all die here."- Trotter said, slightly lifting the Spartans' hopes even if they did not show it.

"Standard protocol for home invasion?" – Asked Cassandra trying to use her phone to access data of the facility.

"Yes, you now are to keep near me, we are going to resist until someone notices and gives us help." – He started, but the uncertainty of help got some of the Spartans preoccupied, and his peripheral vision told him that, so he explained.– "The enemy has allied IFF and has jammed comms, we are alone until someone notices the smoke."

"Hell where has Parangosky been this month, she would have foreseen this, that old witch."- Fhajad said, voicing his complaints.

And they agreed, this was a gloom situation indeed, enough to make the group feel a hint of fear accentuated by the constant movement on the roof that was an advent for the explosions now coming from the lower levels of this 6 story building.

"Keep focused." – Advised the marine.

"Sir, I have no extra cartridges, and I think you gave me an FMJ magazine." – Said Musa.– "If we are fighting ODSTs I think I sh-"

"Now!" – Trotter said as a black figure was seen above them on the skylight; holding a distinct BR-55.

A series of rounds came flaring from the guardian's weapon, hitting the glass and then the lower body of the soldier, making him fall four meters and land on the floor where Musa was quick to get a round to the enemy's visor, killing it instantly.

But three more came, firing to the obvious threat, his heart pounding, he had to protect these kids, he wouldn't let them touch them.

The helmet endured a burst of bullets that still had the energy to crack some bones inside of him but he retaliated with hordes of 7.62 rounds to the enemy, suppressing or outright crippling the armored bastards that came for them.

His chestplate was enough to block the penetration from many series of the new flashy rounds the black-vested enemies sent to him, but the constant hit damage was numbing enough to feel desperate.

His left hand tried to reach a grenade on his belt just as the ODSTs reached the ground and crouched to fire at him while his other hand still held the MA5 that sent enough lead to deter the intruders.

But a flash followed by the door behind him exploding and sending shrapnel to his back before he received shots from there too, and while he had trained Spartans: he was human, he could not endure such punishment in such a short time so he passed away while still firing at his enemies; his battered body collapsing due to so much damage.

And he saw something from one of the kids just as he fell to the ground while small bullets pierced his neck. Musa was taking action, so when he touched the slabs of ceramic, lifeless, ignored by the ones he had to protect; he felt good, as he had done his job, and they could take care of themselves.

What happened is that Spartan Lieutenant saw his protector being overrun with attacks, his heart raced as he felt anger at the sight of the person that had been with them since they arrived at that camp just die; so, for the first time in two years Spartan time kicked in.

On a span of just five seconds, Musa showed that even in his unperfected form, his arms, sight, and shier skill prevailed over defects as he had sent one bullet to an intruder's visor, two for another one's throat, and the last one got a shot on the leg before he had to turn to the new menace entering, a figure moving and shooting to the now lifeless body of Trotter, but their teammates made a move before he could kill the bastard too.

Fhajad had shouted to take action: "Quick jab Soren!", followed by Cassandra saying "Now!" at the moment when a fifth of the helmet of the attacker could be seen past the door. And that was enough to make Musa not fire because he was proud of what he saw.

The massive guy that laid next to the door moved as he saw a figure with slender, almost armorless, black-suited, carrying just a silenced M7 SMG, with some curves that indicated femininity; and a yellow visor that differentiated her from the there troopers; she was going to be a victim of his massive left arm that punched the side of the helmet of the assaulting soldier, who turned just at the exact time as to receive a hit at that yellow crystal.

The force of the impact of the Spartan with the strongest upper body was massive, to say the least. Nearly a ton of force concentrated on three knuckles. They broke it into tiny pieces the energy dispersed along with the helmet and when the fist eventually touched the enemy's skin, it had already launched it flying towards where Fhajad and Cassandra rested, but it nevertheless caused damage that could only be described as breaking a nose.

His hands received cuts after impacting the soldiers' nose and getting out of inside the helmet, but he did not hesitate and jumped towards the falling person all the while Musa now finished off the last enemy 'ODST' in revenge for the Sarge Trotter who now laid on the floor next to the first assaulter, smiling for some reason.

They had defended themselves, now they were to end this last one and begin to prepare for the other ones to come.

So as the massive soldier was about to smash the attacker's ribs, she threw the helmet far away and it revealed the shocked face of someone he knew.

Eyes he remembered, and that the other three Spartans looking at her noticed too.

"Stop!"- Cassandra shouted.

But he still hit that woman hard, her bones almost cracking as such force was imparted into her, but the massive man could control himself, choosing to instead giving a small jump as to instead of thrusting more of his arm into her to reach the wall and rest for a movement from such movements that had heated his body even more.

A scream followed, the damage was enough to make clear that she had felt an impact that would incapacitate a normal human, her nose too now poured a small flow of blood due to the previous hit.

Seconds passed while she gasped for air, getting Musa astonished, and Cassandra nervous; Fhajad? He just tried to connect things.

"Soren?" – The operator said as she looked towards the bald young one in front of her, dropping her gun as she stood up and touched the said man's face.– "Is that really you?"

And the voice of the woman struck them. A voice with a hint of sadness.

The woman was none other than a fellow operator, one that Musa almost shot as he turned to face her, but was stopped by Cassandra getting in his way.

The woman was Serin, Serin–019

"But you are supposed to be dead!" – Screamed Fhajad

In retaliation, a frown was set on her face as she pointed to the dead ODST–cladded people on the ground next to the dead Marine who now was being mourned by Cassandra's eyes.

Serin's mouth showed sadness too as she recognized the man, one of the kinder soldiers she had training the Orion successors, but she had to move onwards because this wasn't something to ignore either.– "You weren't supposed to kill UNSC personnel either." – She was as sad as they were because they killed members of her team as it seems.

But it wouldn't become a discussion; none wanted to argue about that.

With that, Cassandra moved out of Musa's way and went to sit on the floor with the dead personnel she had to give some honors to them, make their souls rest, the others speak with the dead amongst the living.

They all looked at her for a moment, but they understood, so they continued, the three against the newcomer.

"Serin, please tell us, what is happening?" – The 'Big bro' asked lowering his gun to not appear as a menace to their 'sister'. – "Why are you even here?"

Before moving her mouth, she cleaned her nose from the dripping blood, to which Soren helped by just handing her some papers to use to close the red liquid.– "Slow down, Missy." – She said while still frowning, clearly mad at the situation but happy at the same time due to the 'family reunion'. – "First of all, why aren't you on cryo?"

A confused look came from them all; even Cass momentarily stopped closing the fallen's eyes to look amazed at what she had just said.

"We aren't supposed to be in cryo. At least not since the latter part of last year." – Musa explained. – "We've worked like normal people for months to iron things for the manuals and the new tanks."

Serin looked at them with disdain too, she evidently thought they were playing with her, but when she again looked at them, their disfigured maimed forms, she understood, something was wrong, these were not the Spartans she was sent to search, she was looking at the other part of Purple team* alive.

But these guys, they had been suffering for some time

Just looking at Soren made her sad. His right leg had cancer-like protuberances and stiffness proper of an Aluminum-based military prosthetic leg while his upper chest looked like copied from an exaggerated Japanese cartoon; all added to unnatural hands and an evident lack of hair.

On the other hand, you had Cassandra and her obvious backfired carbide ossifications that had made her bones unsuitable for lifting well a 86kg human; and Fhajad, whose constant spasms and lack of eye gave her enough to consider Musa normal, whose legs and back were assisted by a light exoskeleton, like the ones used by mine workers.

She was damn lucky to just have her body rot when it received some of that stuff touched her bone marrow; having fletcher's disease like most of these guys would have been disastrous. But God might have some mercy, as at least they were alive, and they did not have to be painfully revived just to serve.

"Now, are you going to answer, Serin?"- Fhajad inquired, moving the tables set by Musa to then go with his wheelchair to where the interrogation was occurring, snapping the girl out of her thoughts. – "First, how are you alive. Then. What are you doing here?"

The girl just didn't know what to answer for a moment as she still saw what had the Project: Aster did to them. But the looks of the faces of her brothers told her to answer quickly, something reinforced by the continuous gunshots coming from the entire installation reminding her that this still was a fight.

"I am alive because humanity needs the Spartans." – She responded, trying to install the usual 'go shady stuff' narrative on them, but she wasn't fooling anyone when she saw Soren's brows obviously denoting a hint of anger. – "And I am here because HIGHCOM has decided to dismantle section two and divide it, by force, given Parangosky's actions with the organization not being suitable for humanity's survival."

The crippled Spartans were about to ask more, but she soon stood up, with a swiftness that the eyes of the people there almost and didn't catch. But Serin just reached for her dismantled helmet and put it on, giving her back to the others as she did.

"Now please excuse me for a moment."

Fhajad was about to speak but she lifted her right arm and lifted her index finger, prompting them to shut up

"Weasel actual to Leviathan Actual." –She spoke, clearly talking with someone related to this mission albeit she weirdly had a jovial tone when talking.– "Yes, hello Forth. Yes, everything is going oki-doki, Koala team is down but everything is alright." – She then listened to some questions, the sound of them mostly muffled by the helmet.– "Yes, casualties are on ten percent, but we will later mourn them, we've got something important." – Angry sounds came from her intercom. – "It is more important and I am not cynical." – The voice did not agree with that statement as more angry sounds came before being cut by Serin.– "Sir, I think your package is not sealed."

[What package? Is she talking about us?] – Thought Fhajad as he listened closely to what happened, ignoring what was happening outside.

"Yes, I have four Spartans, but they are not on ice, so what the actual fu-"

[Alright, she is definitely referring to us.]

"I have Cassandra, Fhajad, Musa, and Soren."- She stated after some arguing with the voice in the helmet.

Silence then struck for a second before the voice again sounded, this time hearable by everyone.

"Please give me your numbers."- They all knew whose voice that was, Section Three's boss, the brother in arms of Cole, and the first human to jump from O-6 to O-10 and then O-9; Hieronymus Stanforth, the boss of all Spartans. And sure enough, everyone in the room got mixed emotions when hearing him, mostly happiness, so they immediately jumped to answer.

"Zero seventy-five."

"Eighty-four."

"O-nine-six."

"Zero-six-six."

Again silence, accompanied by Serin's smile as she saw the other Spartans clearly enjoying this acknowledgment as a real part of the program.

The voice now sounded, but this time, not with a neutral and serious tone.– "It's good to see you are alive kids even if you were not who I was expecting. Nevertheless, I assume you are aware of what's happening.

"A rude removal of ONI's section that deals with insurrections and inner comms."- Answered Fhajad showing his latest theory.

"Not exactly but almost on point." –The voice answered before explaining.– "We are cleaning Section Two's important projects and VIPs, they are a threat to humanity."

"Was it really necessary?" – Cassandra asked while closing the eyes of the late Trotter.– "You could have just imprisoned them."

A 'Hmn' could be heard from the Admiral as if reflecting for a moment.– "Section two has branches in Military Police, they'd still hold some influence, and they wouldn't want to release you from their hands either."

They were important to Forth as it seems, something that alleviated even if so slightly the souls of the youngsters, even Cassandra decided that she had made her part and went to the group to get a better hold of the conversation.

"But, what are going to do then?"- Asked Soren, getting his thoughts out as he did not get the real intentions of having them working for him. – "Why do we even matter?"

"Simple, you are going to work in the field and Project: PILOT, your minds are great, but some genius called Frederic 'one-o-four' proposed using AIs for intensive research, and that you could help while you did lighter work than killing aliens."

The explanation was enough to get everyone excited, they would work not in desks as it seemed.

Light cheers came from them, but in front of someone that wasn't a Spartan, they got a hold of their emotions enough to not give Forth a good idea of their reaction.

"But for now, you need to escape the facility."- The admiral said.

At the same time, Serin's eyes behind the broken visor shrunk as she got a notice from her comms of what was happening.

"What? Are we not going to wait for evac?" – Musa asked with a hint of nervousness.

"I've received notice of an armored soldier and their stooges rampaging through the underground levels of the building and it almost reached the floor level." – He stated while Serin got a pad out to give information and receive data better of what was happening. – "Reports speak of something equal to an overly armored soldier, likely a Mjolnir Mark II being used to defend the facility, small arms are not going to work against that."

They all had worked with instructors in Mark I&IIs before, some months before the augmentations, and those suits were strong, they did not doubt that if it was real, it would be a real problem.

"Impossible, that's a section three design, they should all be on the mines of the Viery territory." – Fhajad inquired. – "Maybe it's an ODST with an exoskeleton prototype using addon armor."

"Good idea 'Fha', but it still is a problem." – Musa added.

"But the shock of shrapnel and the hits would still be a problem for any person." – Cassandra said. – "Even John had problems with that."

Everyone in the room got a weird look at Cass due to the comment, seems like she was a fan of the class president. Soren quickly ignored it and ended the superstitions.

"This place has twenty levels, sixteen underground, and I counted twenty ODSTs for this floor alone, and they were more Pelicans carrying I assume." –He began.– "with that I think you brought here some hundred and fifty ODSTs assuming this followed an anti-innie protocol of going for above ground first. – "A summary of what was happening, something that got a nod from Serin.– "to reach the surface that soldier would have to kill at least half of that, that's impossible for any human… Aside from a Spartan or someone with that kind of equipment."

"Brilliant answer." – Serin said.

"Yes, indeed, it is probable that the Spartans on cryo Serin was looking for were awakened, and used against us." – That notice from Fhajad got everyone in shock, they would fight a Spartan in the worst case, and Soren already demonstrated what could an augmented punch do.

"In any case, prepare, go outside, we will quarantine the zone and send blue team in," – He said, getting the Spartans excited due to the mention of their once rivals. - "and do not engage the soldier, please stay safe kids, Leviathan out."

There was no time for jokes this time as it seems.

A trio of ODSTs came into the room, weapons pointed, but they were stopped by Serin just waving them off, understanding this was a special occasion.

"Dress with the armor of those downed, I ain't risking you getting some stray bullet to the heart." – The operator spoke while the Spartans quickly grabbed the pieces of protection that they could, mostly from the ODSTs, as Musa was the only one to instead take the heavy armor of the deceased Marine, to who he said 'thanks for everything' before standing with the MA5C at his hands.

Soon everyone save for Soren had a chest piece and the helmet of the deceased to protect themselves, but the hulk soon got help from Serin, who managed to latch the leg and arm pieces of an ODST to his ONI BDU.

The members of the assault team meanwhile just waited.

"Status report?" – Serin asked while tending to the bald Spartan.

"Teams Gabriel to Jamaica down, downstairs everything is chaos, Camelot wants to send Hellbringers and Rangers to deal with the menace."- One of the soldiers, one with a blue paint strip on his right arm spoke.

"Any inconvenient with your new rifles?" – Serin inquired. – "Ammo problems?"

"None, we are all on more than three clips."- A orange-painted ODST said.

"However we've used all of our flashes." – The last one, the one with a white strip, said.

"Good, these four are now your teammates, do not ask names, their tags are Purple one,"- She then indicated to Musa while she helped his brother.– "Two."- She indicated Fhajad, who tried to get a hold of an M7 due to his frail arms not being able to lift a BR. – "Three." – She indicated to Cass, doing the same as Fha'.– "And four."- She just nodded to the mole she had in front.

The HUD's in the Shock troopers now marked the newcomers as allies and they prepared their weapons as screams began to flare in the background; from the 1st floor.

"That's a problem." – Said Fhajad.

"Yes, and we will do our best, Cass and Fhajad, you stay on the back, you plan our movements to stop this madness, Soren, I want you flanking always, Musa, you keep next to me, you three, with Four. Your IFFs are down so you are silent; we are to clean and then retreat, get it?"

Finally, they would strike, as a Spartan team.

"But first, cure yourself Serin." - Musa said, getting the medkit he had eyed before to aid his 'sister'.

Everyone felt a melancholic happy feeling after that.

---

…..

…..

…..

…..

---

Just waking up.

Seven minutes before:

It felt weird. You don't always lie down on a medical bed, get injected, and then wake up in a place that looked the same as a scaled-down cryosection of a ship.

But she was told one thing.

"If they manage to get here, your team will die, they are going to shut down their treatment."

She wasn't stupid, there was something sketchy, but when she was given an armor that felt tailored for her and made her feel like she didn't even have something on: she knew that these ONI guys were doing something special here.

She had been told that they had suffered damage during the augmentations and now were being 'reactivated' to fight against inner threats while the others went for 'alien forces' something she did not believe until she saw footage of Bliss just being rampaged, and a soldier with the same armor that she wore but in green fighting against some weird looking creatures. All of that may have been created using animation, but seeing the nameplate 117 on one of the soldiers changed her opinion almost immediately.

"Are you ready?" – Asked a man wearing a navy battledress, his decorations indicating that he was a Captain, probably the leader of the installation she was in.

The Spartan just nodded.

"Great, we lost contact with the 10th level, we have twenty-seven guards, thirteen marines, and four shock-trooper armed guards to help you." – The man said while a trio of people in grey clothing tweaked some details on her armor, being directed by a woman that was under the constant observation of the captain. – "Any questions?"

"How many foes? What am I fighting really?" – She asked in a neutral tone.

"Nearly two hundred insurrectionists in ODST BDU, how did they get it is a mystery."

"Got it." – She now saw how the people got away from her, and the woman smiled.

"Can you please move to test your armor?"

Margaret did as she was told, crouching immediately and then lying on the floor just to jump into a standing position, after that she curled her arms, feeling the tight armor just feeling naturally moving as she did.

[What kind of miracle of armor is this?]

Her mind had that question, and soon enough a message showed kinda an answer

YGGDRASSIL/MJOLNIR BIOS .9

PRODUCTION DATE: August 5th, 2524

ATOMIC CLOCK DATE: 5/12/2526 (5th of December)

TORIUM STATE: ….. Stable. Reactor at 25% output….. Batteries are at 50%.

MOVEMENT SENSOR STATE: Drivers outdated. Working… Self-Update applied.

PERIPHERAL SYSTEMS STATE: Checking….. Active…. Error. UNSC Heads-up-display Materiel information and icons not installed.

COMMS STATE: Short Range Radio active…. INTRUDER communications hijack system not installed…. NOTE: Remove the functionality, Stanforth wants the suit for 2525.

ARMOR STATE: All Titanium-AB sections installed, 90% integrity….. Inner bodysuits at 95% integrity.

WELCOME, TEST USER.

Hello Spartan, well, if you're using this it means that you either have been a casualty of the UNSC's complicated logistic chain and didn't get the final version of the Armor for your mission, in which case I hope this is enough to deal with anything you encounter; or that you are a BIOS tester seeing this message.

In any case, this is a prototype of the Mjolnir System with this being the next iteration of the series aside from the Civilian versions of the YGGDRASIL models.

Since the .75 we've done a lot of progress in the miniaturization of the reactor, and this is the step when we add the low-impulse propulsion jets and some tweaks to the 'force multiplier' that it gives. And you, are to be sure that it goes to good use.

This is not a tool, this suit is an extension of the operator, you use this as if it was your second skin, it will make you powerful, strong, faster; and even if It does less than what I've anticipated, this will be the step towards greatness that you will one day wear.

And if you're one of my Spartans, then happy Christmas, remember to follow orders; but, be free to use this suit to your heart's desire.

-Dr. Catherine Halsey.

An answer, she was knocked out cold for a year and a half as it seemed; well, that was enough for humanity to create something like this, this probably was a small version of those big-ass mechas.

[Thanks, mom.] – Margaret thought after seeing the message, getting an odd feeling when seeing the author's name

"Everything seems alright." – The woman in the lab coat said seeing a datapad that apparently had a connection to her armor due to the information that woman had, then she looked at the other three pods that laid next to one that was open, where the Spartan had come from.

"What about the others?"- Margaret asked after seeing where the apparent scientist was looking at.– "Why aren't there on armor with me?"

A frown came from the woman and sweat from the Captain, something really shady was happening. But she would probably get it later.

"That's the only prototype we could procure for you before this… The incident, and we can't risk the others dying again, that would be counterproductive." – She explained, not very convincingly as she had seen other Spartans wearing more advanced looking versions on the videos, meaning that this was a very old model, something the production date confirmed. But hell, she had seen the YGGDRASIL suits on the titanium mines being used to get the ore so this was probably a skunkworks way for ONI to get another Spartan quick.

But she wasn't going to get bitchy just now, she had work to do.

"Well lady, your weapons are on the box, take whatever you like and rendezvous with the security team in the elevator." – The Captain said after wiping his sweat. He then indicated to a large crate being opened by a technician.

Inside there was a treasure that rivaled your standard frigate's loadout, Otto would have loved to see the number of different guns that she hadn't even seen just ready to be taken.

And when she took three guns, the suit indicated that she moved them to her back, and so she did.

UNRECOGNIZED EQUIPMENT

The message flared on her screen, the outlines were present, but no information was given, not even ammunition.

"Oh, sorry, you lacked this."

The woman on the coat moved her black hair to the side and got from her chest pocket a small chip that she inserted onto a pad and then another message appeared on the HUD of the Spartan.

Accept data transfer?

She instinctively nodded. Soon the weapons showed ammo under their drawings on the top right, and names could be seen.

7.62 Caliber. Carbine, Automatic, Silenced, M5AKs

.44 Caliber, Pistol, Automatic, Silenced, M6/S

Weapon/Anti-Vehicle Model 6 Grindell/Galilean Nonlinear Rifle.

UNSC Heads-up-display Materiel information and icons installed successfully

"That's all, I hope you are ready, 053." – That woman scoffed, but Margaret got a hint of her badge and replied before looking at her guns.

"Thank you 'nashe'." – Then, the Spartan just walked out of the room, leaving a mad 'Ignacia C' behind her, noticing how outside a group of injured people and obvious Military Police soldiers was being tended by people with very much civilian attire.

And as it seems, it was a dire situation, the 15? 14? 16 year old?... The teenage soldier just felt that she had to act quickly.

She had a Rifle, a good pistol, and apparently a lassgun to deal with the situation.

The corridor was long enough to let her familiarize herself with the magnetic clamps of her suit, and how to grab correctly the weapons she had in possession right now.

But when she neared the end of it an ODST welcomed her with a hand wave and then a salute.

"Please, follow me, Spartan." – A male voice coming from him said. The HUD soon marked him as the Sargeant Vulpes I., Rifleman, ONI Section Two Heavy Security and Force application group, 1st company, Service number 01555-1740-61420; a good amount of information about him.– "We are running low on ammo, and we are counting on you to breach them, we will follow you, any actualization on orders will be transmitted to your heads up display."

While she tried to digest the info dump given to her by the armor she noticed something, the IFFs of many other people on a 1km radii came, and the info on the 'ONI' people engaging other recognizable signatures came but they were recognized as mostly from the 5th Shipborne Shock Trooper Division, weird, but she would get answers, now there was work to be done.

"Any notes on how I am supposed to strike?"- Margaret plainly asked. – "I don't think this thing will endure much damage."

A laugh came from the soldier while they walked towards the elevator that now unloaded a new set of injured Marines.

"You…. You! Are you serious?"—The ODST asked while still smirking under the visor, but he got a nod from the Spartan, making him understand that she indeed did not know.– "Oh."

They first waited for a tad for the injured to unload and for two Security officers with light armor to join the pair in the elevator, then, the sergeant continued.

"Your armor can shrug off consistently 20-mil shots*, we've tested it with 102 mil rockets and they left a dent, sure, but your suit is hard to break, you might get hurt, but that thing will make you impervious to most things." – The explanation made the woman feel a sudden change of mind, she now felt… Powerful. - "Though be careful, the suit is neigh unbreakable, but I think that you are not."

[That explains the integrity not being at full]- She thought.

After that 053 did not speak again with the soldier, making an uncomfortable trip to the minus thirteenth floor, where the main fighting was occurring, and where the travel of this lift ended.

The main corridor had almost no fighting, the one connected to the main elevator and the stairs concentrated where the soldiers engaged those 'innies'.

They walked past a makeshift machinegun position where some five people were laid around, guns pointed forward, and then they walked to the corner where the fest was occurring, ten ODSTs versus the six marines defending the position.

The Sarge crouched and got his MA5 out, firing it against the end of the corridor where two other enemies could be seen arriving through the emergency stairs.

The middle lane was littered with ONI defenders, in the office boxes rested injured people, some supply caches, or people firing from relatively safe places instead of the open area with scarce cover that was where three marines used a 20mm launcher as their main weapon to shrug off the invaders.

A weird situation, but hey, she had once started a food war that ended in one instructor dead, so this could be worse.

"What are you waiting for!? Kill!"- Vulpes shouted, getting a 'spartan smile' from the black-cladded warrior.

So she sprinted towards the people firing against her, noticing how her steps had absolutely no sound, and how the projectiles that hit her were not giving her any pain at all, they just decorated her armor as they squished themselves, leaving marks that would get some of the paint off, or just ricochet from her, it hurt her as each felt like they were punches, but she had endured that for years by now and it wasn't going to stop her now.

[Hah, god bless Halsey for this project.] – She thought as the hits just numbed some of her body as they began to come out more and more towards her.

But eventually, they were at the reach of her hands, she could feel the scared faces inside of the helmets, the information given to her by the HUD said that their pulsations went up.

Perfect, they were humans indeed, not just some suicidal guys; now it seems this is either an internal conflict she'd had to resolve by trying to contact Stanforth, or this was a convoluted live test for the armor.

The invasors tried to back off, their weapons still firing against the Spartan with a precision that gave off experience to make them qualify as Shock troopers; but Black-01 did not do more than just look at them, trying to get a hold of what was happening.

"Just kill them, Spartan!" – The intercom sounded, coming from the 'Captain Federico B.' as the HUD told, with a picture next to the message looking eerily similar to the man she had seen on the lab. – "They are attacking an ONI installation!"

Well, time to work.

With blinding speed she moved her arm right arm in a simple move forward, her fist ready to punch with mild strength the nearest ODST to prove the suit's and her augmentation's strength.

"What the actual fuck!?" – One MP shouted when he saw what had just happened.

The invader was now on the ground, the helmet dented and the visor cracked.

He was still alive, but that was a lot of damage, and he was not going to stand up any time soon.

"Zealot containment, form up!" – One of the 'Navy' soldiers said to the other attackers.

The other raiders soon formed on a semicircle around the elevator and the staircase to fire against the Spartan, the punches now hurting her in such a way that she knew couldn't handle it for long. The fire was constant, precise, layered, and enough to make the Spartan groan in pain as she discovered that the undersuit was flexible and dispersed kinetic energy, but not enough to make these battle rifles useless at engaging her.

So Black-01 decided to take from her lower back the Carbine while she ran to behind a desktop, the gun she took was surprisingly light, probably made for Spartans or as a replacement for the Helljumpers' MA5s, and hopefully, it still had the punch of the big bro.

The HUD quickly coordinated with the approximate bullet trajectory the weapon had when she moved in, and in one second she was in a position to get ten rounds going against four of the nine she had insight, rotating her body to adjust to every position she had to fire at, they all died, the surprisingly light weapon was accurate enough to deliver two rounds to the same place, piercing the bulletproof crystal of their helmets and getting a metal jacket inserted on their skulls.

"Brute melee containment!"- Another order came, five of the soldiers went to tackle her, while the other two dealt with the Guards of the place that had been advancing while she was tanking bullets.

The first trooper to go against her received a small uppercut that lifted him some centimeters up the air and dropped him to the ground momentarily.

The second got a left hook to the right side of his helmet and a quick roundhouse kick to his left leg, that dropped him, and also cracked his visor but this time blood spilled from the cracks, maybe she had pierced the attacker's temporal bone.

The third managed to slip by her look and pull her left arm while the fourth slipped a knife to her throat's undersuit, the blade, recognized by the armor as the M8 Combat Knife* was surprisingly enough to momentarily pierce it and get some of her blood drip to the floor and some acute pain, but she just slammed with her free arm the attacking soldier visor, her fist ramming the crystal and breaking the assaulter's nose before just crushing his skull, apparently killing it.

The third one wasn't slow though and got a round from his M6 to the Spartan's helmet, the energy almost made her neck snap but with most of the energy dispersed by the headgear she was able to grab the knife of the deceased and threw it towards the shooter, the self-sharpening blade only stopped when the metal bolster was touching the trooper's larynx, he tried to gasp for air immediately, but when he couldn't, he just hot the pin of a grenade off and throwed himself to Margaret.

Meanwhile, the other two ODSTs nodded and ran towards the left staircase, leaving the kamikaze to be dealt with by the supersoldier.

[Organized melee and formations, they retreat when they are to lose, non-verbal communication. They are professional soldiers.]

Not risking anything, the Spartan grabbed the soldier by the neck and the chesplate, lifting him and nonchalantly throwing him two meters away, where he exploded, shrapnel was sent to the others on the ground and the feet of one of the guards, who were quickly aided by another one helping with a biogel pack.

A sudden and acute pain then came to some parts of the supersoldier's body as the hits on the undersuit hurted badly, her flesh was still damageable by bullets impacting as it seemed.

She then sat for some seconds, trying to recover herself from the number of abrasions and bruises she took in such a short amount of time.

No Biofoam/Optican® Medigel detected, unable to dispend to injury.

A message on the HUD appeared as a solution to her problems it seems.

[You really think of everything, mom.] – She mentally joked before signaling with her finger to a Medkit laying on the ground next to a trooper that was recharging her gun.

The soldier soon got notice of it and ran with it towards the armored woman, before noticing that the suit did not have any apparent way to apply any of the medical supplements to the operator; but she got notice of blood dripping out of the behemoth's throat so she applied a gentle amount of biofoam there, the cells quickly absorbed the nutrient paste on the foam and began multiplying, creating a small crust that prevented further bleeding.

"Thanks." – Margaret said as her suit opened a small hole on the right shoulder, something which the armor notified to the Spartan so she decided to alert the helping guard about it. – "Right shoulder; apply some medigel for the suit."

And so she did quickly, nervous that she was dealing with one of the strongest people on the UNSC; but she did her work right, filling a meter on the suit to about three quarters.

A thumbs-up came from the black-armored woman before feeling some sharp pain before feeling relieved by the magic of the UEG's medical work, she was grateful that Halsey made something like this available.

Soon though she got up, and orders came.

"We need you to keep advancing, disable the elevator and advance to the next floor to mop up enemy presence." – Spoke the captain through the radio.

"Understood." – The Spartan answered feeling that this might be wrong. But the image of her killing the guards too clouded the possibility of them being able to escape punishment if she was on the wrong side.

And so she ran to the closed doors of the lift in front of her, a 'marine' tried to give her some explosives; but she wanted to test herself and her strength.

So she punched the metal door.

A loud thud was heard when her fist created a bulge on the steel.

Another was heard when she provoked the bulge to become deeper.

A small grunt of pain came as she sent the next fist, getting the two sections of the door to separate and let the sight of the inner walls be seen.

Then she grabbed one side and pulled with force, using the strength of her whole body to just ram the slab of metal towards the concrete that hid it.

It was revealed that the elevator now was on the upper levels, probably taking on troops to continue the assault.

But Margaret thought of another way to deal with them.

She let the Carbine on her lower back and then got the M6 out of the magnetic clamps of her upper back.

"Whoa… Are you going to?" – Asked a dumbfounded guard just lifting her cap to see the beast nod. – "Uh… give 'em hell, operator."

And so she entered the empty site at the bottom of the elevator shaft, her eyes sat on the dim form of distinct metal conjunction above her, but even what she assumed was augmented vision couldn't decipher if it was just a door or the elevator going down.

But the suit soon answered with the reflected infrared coming from the hall of the floor revealed that she was seeing her real objective, so she smiled, knowing what she had to do by instinct.

She crouched; the massive gun lay on her right shoulder as she prepared her other arm to line up the muzzle of the 'lassgun' towards the apparent objective. Her sight though soon became a different one as she suddenly saw things from the perspective of the gun mixed with the IR signals given to her by the suit; she had the gun slightly lower than she needed to have. A small correction was all that was needed before her right hand directed her index finger to the trigger.

A small flash of red light built upon the muzzle, energy flowed through the weapon as solid light suddenly fired, with the effect being sudden immolation of the metal in an explosion and transfer of energy such that she could easily see the light coming from a hole she blasted on the top of the building.

[Shit this is powerful] – She thought before seeing how quickly the elevator now went swiftly downwards, towards her. – [Oh fuck]

She did not hesitate to throw the weapon outside, landing on the hands of the dumbfounded guard from before; but she would die if she did not move quickly so Margaret just jumped towards her, tackling the guardswoman as the chunk of metal loaded with ten troopers slammed the ground, compressing itself and exploding due to the ordnance carried by the enemy ODSTs. Shrapnel was sent everywhere and the other door of the elevator was sent flying towards where the Spartan was, but she still hold to the guard so she flew with her due to the shock of the explosion. They ended up striking a column while the metal just ended up buried deep within the now ruined cubicles of the level.

All in all, one guardsman had died, and when Margaret stood up she saw that the woman she 'saved' was crushed to death, along with the M6 laser that had suffered a small crushing on the stock.

She saw how the disfigured form of the woman now laid on the armor, the column, and the floor where she now was, the lifeless body of someone she failed to save.

It was a horrible sight, no matter how much mental conditioning you had been through, the remains of a human were always something terrible to see.

She wanted to puke.

Gasps could be heard, but no one said a thing about what happened, they understood it was an accident, but they looked at what happened with disgust before turning to tend to the two deaths.

Margaret was told by one of the guards to "Just move on." And so she did, running towards the stairs while trying to get as much of the grey matter and blood of the girl as she could while moving. And no soldier followed her, most were astonished and did not know what to do.

[I'm sorry.] – She thought while moving, slowly returning to focus as the thought of the young corporal just lost importance – [After this… I will pay honors to you.] – She mentalized to try and cope with that weird feeling of undeserved guilt.

So while running towards the next floor, she encountered an ODST that snapped her out of thinking about the event with a precise shot to the visor. The bullet from his Battle rifle slamming against the crystal made an alert about integrity show up, but she sped up and grabbed the right leg of the enemy trooper then she smashed him against the wall, the shock was enough to make him unable to answer to a stomp to his helmet by the Spartan's foot.

After that, she kept running upstairs until she got sight of another shock trooper waiting for her to show up, but she was quick enough to grab the carbine while running to send a trio of rounds directly through the enemy soldier's visor; letting her reach the back of the next floor, the main hall was dominated by five ODSTs.

[I had just enough today and I just woke up, let's finish this quickly.]

She wasn't keen on being revived, left with the pressing issue of defending her asleep 'siblings', she had just received her first battle damages, and saw some girl she tried to protect dying; all the while the supposed enemies were humans, UNSC humans, fighting for some reason legit ONI troopers, she hadn't received the final training that she was supposed to have after the augmentations so this wasn't something the Spartan was ready for.

Nevertheless, she smirked at some relief of the mental stress in the form of her body instinctively lining up the carbine towards the backs of the enemy troopers; whose IFFs told their provenance from the UNSC Allegiance.

"Weasel, thank god you're here!" - Said one trooper that turned her head to see the armored operator. - "We need to crack these guys!"

They thought she was one of them, one that would help to kill the five guards entrenched with an M247. Huh.

Well, she was going to surprise them.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

Five shots to five necks, the recoil was not felt by the Spartan, and the drop of the bodies surely relieved her from the overextension the last minutes were.

The guards showed their heads from the swiss-cheese that their protection had become under the fire of those powerful new weapons the troopers had.

"Uh... Orders?" - Asked a private holding barely the Magnum he had as only weapon.

"Follow me, and shoot." - Margaret told them.

---

A rampage ensued. The Spartan visited most floors, making the enemy troopers retreat with aggressive proficiency and just brutalist kills to rout the enemy at the sight of such force of nature that kept gaining followers that aided her on the attacks.

First she was mistaken as a soldier, Weasel, and every time they tried to contact her she just backstabbed them as if they were the innies she was trained to kill. Then they understood that she was a persona non grata and began actively hunting her. But she always outran them, she always endured more; and more importantly, she hit harder.

Impossible shots were the specialty of spartans and Margaret demonstrated it with deadly proficiency, sending single bullets to the necks of her enemies and then crushing their skulls with stomps from her feet, all to hurt morale as much as she could to deal with the simply massive number of trained soldiers that albeit separated and without anti-armor equipment, were enough as to make her feel each time more disconnected from normal contact, from normal behavior; as the pain fueled her to kill of them even more, almost forgetting she was supposed to protect the facility.

Thus, she had killed on a short time some hundred ODSTs, making the rest retreat to the first floor, where she was just steps away from. Almost the entirety of the remaining guards of the facility was behind her; following the path taken by the blood and lead-painted armored warrior whose service numbers were even hidden behind the marks of grenade spalls hitting the chestplate.

But in the massive hall plans given by the suit, where beautiful scenery would be encountered if this was a normal situation; laid a problem.

The IFFs of the soldiers became now showing things more and more interesting.

Sargeant, Hauser L., 19000-10500-OD, riflemen, 103rd Shipborne Marine Detail Division, UNSC Minotaur

Lance Corporal, Dismas C., 77500-3155-SC, grenadier, 103rd Shipborne Marine Detail Division, UNSC Minotaur

Private, Wawuda L., 888414-2014-MB, rifleman, 103rd Shipborne Marine Detail Division, UNSC Minotaur

The existence of a private totally dismissed the idea that this was an insurrectionist ploy; she really had been killing UNSC servicemen. Even worse was that on the distance, on an intermittent way, she would receive the notice of another soldier:

Operator, Serin O., 39489-72738-SO, Operator, ONI Section three, UNSC Leviathan

That, added to the existence of other IFFs following it close while they made the identifications of some of the guards go dark: made her doubt of this at all.

She wasn't on the right side. But she had people on her back that really looked like they were defending themselves, not knowing what happened. What was the right decision then? Following her instincts and surrendering?

Killing everybody and expecting rescue?

No. She had dug her grave deep already, best if she just continued this and saw what would happen next.

If only she had Kurt's sixth sense.

Soon though, she saw how the friend-or-foe indicator flashed with the location of the Operator going downwards. And if she wanted to have an idea of what happened really, she had to talk to them.

"Prepare for assault, I will rush, you then wave assault them." - She commanded to the platoon of Section II guards that followed her, she was greeted by tens of 'understoods' flashing on her heads up display so she decided to just mute notifications of short comms.- "Anyone with flashy armor besides me is an enemy, if we push them, we scavenge and prepare for a siege." - This time she only heard the voices of the people agreeing to the orders, a neat change.

Some steps away though a problem presented itself, a squad of shock troopers appeared with a trio of machinegunners and two shotgun users that soon opened fire at the Spartan and her companions.

The 'dragon breath' shots fired burned some of the present soldiers going by the stairs; and the metal jackets struck armor and flesh alike, mowing down twelve people in just some seconds.

Margaret herself was hit by at least fifty bullets mostly on her torso, making a severe dent on her armor and provoking the near-collapse of her ribcage. So she just grabbed the body of a downed marine and used it to tank most of the hits that came.

The brutalist action would normally impact the people present, but they used it as the soldiers immediately focused fire on the operator, letting the hordes of small arms fire be unleashed over the attackers that while not instantly overran, had to get to kill the new batch of ten troopers now copying the black-team member.

[Very smart, troopers] - She thought as she saw that the others followed her gruesome example.

But she wouldn't hold for long.

Thus she took a better hold of the body of the deceased soldier, Zhai Leng as the IFF told, and threw her lifeless body towards the group of troopers with enough force to make one of the ODSTs and a machinegunner fall down. A window of opportunity that she used to make a jump that crushed the step she was in and propel her towards the group where she grabbed the leg of the gunner on the ground to then use him to maul his companions as his body now moved on the air and was used as a bat to swat the others with mixt effectiveness.

But it served, three troopers retreated to the hall running while the others were overwhelmed by smalls arms fire and the hits of metal against their human bodies.

It had hurt a lot, and she could feel her blood flowing on the inside of the undersuit. Her chest was probably full of bruises and maybe some cuts made from the energy of the hits just tearing her skin, but the suit dosed her with enough meds to numb the pain for now.

[I seriously hope a medic survived in here.]

Then she walked towards the double door that gave view to a nice garden in the middle of the facility, but she wasn't stupid and knew at least fifteen enemy troopers were dispersed to kill her so she decided to grab one of the M247s the guys had and carry it instead of the depleted carbine.

Her steps were still silent, and she wasn't recognized by enemies, but she knew that getting her head out of the frames of the doorway meant getting shot at by probably sniper rifles, and if she was pressed against 8mm fire, the precision and lethality of the 14.5mm DU rounds these guys must have meant that she would get some nasty pain.

[One... Two... Three... Now!] - She jumped into the view of the garden to quickly begin spraying rounds against the second floor's windows, breaking most of the untouched glass there. - [Wait, where is-]

A massive hit then came, she felt it, it was a mass just launching itself against her left side, with enough strength as to make her drop, and with speed enough to move her away from the open doors that soon became flooded with grenades launched from behind some plants; which exploded and killed a sizeable amount of guards.

Margaret wasn't happy with the sudden attack, thus she threw the machinegun away when she dropped to the floor to free her right arm. A quick move to turn and she snapped out of the control of the attacker's body, but when she saw who was above her the Spartan noticed a massive and overly muscular soldier with makeshift armor and black skin that reminisced her of someone.

But an attack was an attack so she launched her left hand on a jab towards the bald man's face.

Only to be stopped by one of his and retaliated by a hammering punch from him, with force such that he actually managed to make a crack on the visor of the Mjolnir.

[What?] - She wondered with a hint of fear at the display of strength, only to be answered with another hit that deepened the crack, and a third one that was aimed at the base of her helmet, to try and get it out of her. - "No you don't!"

A quick uppercut to the man's diaphragm stopped him and lifted him up momentarily, just to make him frown and get another try to get her helmet out, this time with both hands.

"Snap out of it!" - He screamed, getting the attention of the Spartan just as the firefight broke out between the guards and the shooters that came off multiple places around the garden.

It was a familiar yet different voice. And the feeling she had felt after seeing the name 'Serin' flared out again.

But it would be an astronomical chance of it, because this man looked like Soren or a bald version of Tomás*, yet it was so different.

His body looked augmented, like hers, but the muscles were too massive to even look natural. And a quick glimpse to his hands showed a disfigured form worthy of a circus freak.

Nevertheless, she couldn't lose her helmet or she would die from some bullet in the forehead.

She used a great load of effort to retract her legs and arc her feet towards the abdomen of the man and then just stretch them with force to throw the soldier away from her, preventing him from leaving her armorless.

Then she grabbed her M6S to get a quick shot to the enemy, her left hand was quick to line up to his throat, but she received a shoot to the visor that sent a small shard towards her prosthetic eye, surprising her enough to not fire. Some other shoots came, with unbelievable precision as almost all of them were able to hit the same place the others did.

The motion sensor revealed that four other people were near her and away from the main fighting.

How to engage them properly then? Going for that guy with the godly aiming, so she jumped back into standing position to then look at two kinda-ODST looking people, of whom one wore the IFF of the so-called Serin and a broken helmet. Then more fire came after they nodded, all directed to her visor.

She answered with not-so precise rounds from the weapon, getting hits against non-vital areas and their armor. The motion sensor at the same time showed the figure of the giant man coming to her, so she tried to use an uppercut to stop him from ramming her again, but when she turned to look, the man had crouched and sent his own punch towards her throat, and it managed to cut her air supply for a moment, then he followed with a hook to her sides, and another, and another.

When Margaret tried to counterattack this brutal assault, the only thing that managed to do something was a strike to the man's helmet to drop him to a knee strike to his jaw. But the force didn't seem enough to break his bones unlike the other soldiers she had engaged, but he nevertheless retreated some steps behind before she spartan could get a finishing strike.

With that small skirmish, some of the blood had gotten out of the armor, letting the dark black show itself as a reflection to the other ONI-BDU-wearing soldier.

The sound of the firefight marked the tone of the situation, she didn't know how to proceed in another way than just killing these people, including the ONI operator she thought she could reason with.

The enemy man tried then to talk, relaxing his stance a little.- "I don't know who you are. But I know you are a Spartan. I am S-"

"Shut up!" - Margaret replied and used the opportunity to advance her right leg while lifting the left and rotating her body, the roundhouse kick slammed the man's arm that he had lifted to protect himself and threw him off balance, perfect for a front kick by her right leg and then another roundhouse to the head.

But he didn't fell to the ground, he stood up there.

And a signature came on the motion detector running towards her. prompting her to turn quickly and throw a punch to the approaching foe's head.

"It's us, you can stop this, pleas-" - The person coming said before being struck by the powerful fist of a Spartan-II on a Mjolnir suit.

And what she had hit was the face of someone she knew, a black woman, Cassandra. Her braided hair was still the same as ever, her face still the same and admittedly taller than she remembered, with hints of scars she had too from the augmentations, she tried to stop herself from hitting her friend, but she was unable to stop her knuckles from breaking bones, leading the girl to the ground, then the motions of three other people came into her sensor.

[What have I done?] - She thought with remorse as she saw that the two 'ODSTs' and the bald man came to tackle her.

The impacts were with reason, she had thrown bullets to spartans, she had hurt them, and Cassandra was now probably dead.

But she was presented to a situation she had no word on, she had already seen what happened to those defending, she thought she was doing the good thing... Was she? She was protecting other spartans from... No.

She was being used as a weapon, against her own people.

Not insurrectionists or anything. Other Spartans.

She was defending people that tried to revive them from the dead to make them serve against the UNSC.

And she was furious to not have decided against this sooner.

But the violent outburst from the realization came as a fist destroying the woman of the yellow-visored helmet's abdomen, and another that hit the ODST vested man whose de-polarized crystal showed to be Musa, sending him flying towards a tree.

The bald man came next, he tried headbutting the helmet to cause damage, managing to actually break the crystal and making a dent on the floor worthy of a mortar explosion; but she used all of her strength to just slam his forehead. The shock apparently managed to make his brain touch his skull, as he blacked out almost immediately after that.

And she wasn't satisfied with that, she looked at all the targets present there.

Soon there was no one left but her.

She sprinted and shot at everyone she could see as her reaction and speed surpassed everyone there.

No weapon stopped her as she dodged the direction of their barrels and broke the users before they could fire to the menace in front of them.

No person was left alive there, she went downstairs and killed everyone save for the other spartans, and the Pelicans above just looked, knowing that they had no idea on how to proceed

The black armor again flooded in red, her fist holding the arm of a Marine from the guards.

She was again at the garden, looking at the dead companions she once might have called siblings, brothers, and sisters.

And apparently, she had missed one, a person on a wheelchair looking at the bodies of the others, as he was apparently tending to them.

The bald man now stood up before him and tried to lift his hands, assuming a combat position to defend him.

So Margaret sprinted to go and... She didn't even know what she would do. But a voice sounded and stopped her.

"I looked to the records and saw your number, Margaret." - It was Fhajad's voice, he was the man in the wheelchair. - "I was sending orders to the troopers, and I hid when I saw you, using my lack of IFF or movement due to my state." - He sighed and turned to face the woman, revealing his mutated form, his aftereffects of Project: ASTER. - "You managed to stop a company's worth of troops, in thirty minutes. You have been damaged enough to kill you once the adrenaline runs off. And you almost killed the remains of Purple team."

She immediately stopped and looked, if that was supposed to be Purple team... The black man was Soren, the other on ODST was maybe Musa or Ralph... She had fucked up really bad, and now the guilt kicked in.

"And I saw the records of black team. Once we've cured these two, we will revive them and send them to battle." - He stated, acting like a CO. - "But you..." - He stuttered, frowning and grabbing with anger the armrests of the wheelchair. - "You will suffer until you rehabilitate."

She was going to protest, she was a victim, she did not know what was going to happen... Yet she decided to act.

---

Soren was weak now, he was knocked out cold but awoke quickly, and now had the sight of someone he thought dead in front, Fhajad had tended to him, but he had a force of nature that had already beaten him before in front.

He had done things so good today, from stopping the guards, making some surrender, sending them to the pelicans; he had even helped place weapons positions to end the traitors. But it all seemed like it was going to end with a swift strike, no matter the words Fhajad said.

His orthopedical skeleton was about to break, his meds to numb the pain of his massive musculature was about to run off.

But he still defended his friend from the angry bull that wanted to kill them out of the pure emotional discharge, so he crouched and when he was supposed to receive a jab to the chin, he lifted himself against Margaret's hip, and then he fell down over her, using his massive force to slam her against the porcelain that floored some of the gardens.

A nasty crack was heard, but she lifted herself up before Soren and delivered a quick kick to his jaw, dropping him and snapping the neural lace he had with the exoskeleton due to the shock of the impact.

He needed a miracle if he wanted to survive.

And someone had the luck of appearing at the right moment.

The air blurred for a moment as the image of something formed between the crippled Spartans, a figure taller than Margaret began forming on a vivid green that contrasted with the sight.

It was someone on a green Mjolnir suit, a tad more slender than what Margaret had, but nevertheless bulky.

"You awoke too soon and got to fight without your normal calmness, Margaret, I'm sorry for what they did." - He said while advancing to the now surprised-battered operator in front of him. - "But you must forgive me, too."

His Project: COBALT armor moved so swiftly that there was no reaction for when he grabbed the right arm of Margaret.

"What are you go-" - She was about to ask when a quick strike to her elbow answered instantly. The bone had shattered and it bent inwards.

The green demon thus moved his elbow to strike the broken glass of her helmet, piercing it with his titanium carapace and hitting the other Spartan's nose, but she didn't move as she was being held.

The second after, another hit came in the form of a stomp to her right knee, breaking it too, making her slip and fall to the ground where she just began screaming, until the chief got from his thigh pad a syringe filled with a purple liquid which he used by just ramming it against the exposed neck of the spartan as some biofoam had fallen off from a cut.

After that, the black-team spartan fell asleep, not knowing what was going to happen with her, entering a long nightmare.

"Thanks for coming." - Fhajad said with a melancholic tone. - "A second more and we... God..."

Soren just didn't know what to do, so he sat down, and memorized what happened, this was a new episode of his life; because he wouldn't see things as he did before this, the others were barely alive, and he couldn't do much. Worse of all, so many people died today.

A sad voice came from the man*. - "I could have..." - He then crouched to touch the face of the supersoldier, who he believed dead until now, and at this moment represented the fears of three of his people dying, and the reason why so many human souls had been wasted today.

"It's alright, we all do what we can do for hu-" - The paralytic youngster tried to say before being interrupted by the Blue leader letting a small sad grunt, the epitome of emotion for someone like him. - "John? Look at me." - The young officer ordered.

The bald operator looked with amazement at what was happening, Fhajad was acting with seriousness, maybe copying how Musa would do most of the time, or how John acted when something bad happened, save for when human blood was spilled.

"They can be recovered, we are Spartans, even those who couldn't be saved still would have said the same, just look at me."

Halsey was a lying bitch, the trio thought. Dead spartans alive, and the crippled ones being able to do something, if they were in another place this wouldn't have happened.

"Furthermore... This was a rude awakening, better here than before the real enemy." - Soren said while looking at the number of people on the floor. - "But we survived." - He added, getting a nod from Fhajad.

"And we will do whatever we must."- The man looked at his friends, and decided to approach them, and smile behind the helmet. - "thank you." - 117 finished, apparently getting again on his duty as the leader, he obviously would be hurt by the scene, the image of Sam on the Unrelenting was almost as bad as this, where he could see people he had seen just before the augmentations, crippled, hurt, all among a hellhole where blood was spilled and bodies laid like they were the grass of a field.- "And, it's good to see you, purple team."

A small moment of happiness for them, but contemplation was what followed.

The football-stadium-sized area of flooring, small plants, and some trees circled by the concrete building and its many 2-meter long windows was decorated by bodies, splashes of blood, broken crystals, bullet casings, and weapons.

Silence struck for some seconds until the Spartan that was as tall as the John in armor got up and walked to the bodies, moving them near Fhajad.

"Did you come here alone?" - Soren asked while gently placing his 'family' in a place near them.

Silence still reigned for some seconds before a certain someone moved his helmet.

"No. The others are recovering the cryopods on the underground." - He stated, with no emotions whatsoever.

The massive man sighed.- "Then, are you going to help me with this?" - Soren asked with sadness, but strangely calm, as he knew that nothing else could happen, nor even the pelicans were above them to do something to interrupt this pseudo-peace

While Fhajad looked at the sky, the green man came to the aid of the man of the deteriorated hands, placing the other three Spartans near each other, and then next to the wheelchair of a certain someone; then Soren went for a medkit that had been thrown during the massacre.

"John... Fuck you." - A faint voice came from the bodies when John was about to start staring at nothingness and Soren was about to try and help Cassandra. - "You came late."

One of the figures, a feminine-looking one with five bullet holes on her body struggled to get a squashed helmet off. Serin Osman was awake.

Inside the armor, the leader of the blue team smiled.

"I didn't think that you'd prefer living." - He joked to cope with the situation, something that Fhajad internally approved. - "How did you survive being thrown into a star?"

What he got in response was a middle finger from her.- "Shut up and aid the others." - After that, she closed her eyes and rested her arm.- "And don't tell anyone what happened, this was a terrible day."

"Huh, you evaded dying twice in two years, congratulations." - Fhajad joked, prompting the laugh of someone else, Musa, and the aperture of the eyes of a certain black-skinned girl.

"Fuck you, spartans never die, Fha'." - She replied.

In the background, a Pelican arrived, soon, they got out, leaving the cryopods for an albatross and a ODST crew to recover them.

The Facility would be destroyed three hours after that by a trio of archers fired by the UNSC Pillar of Autumn, at the same moment that the transmission of Parangosky's execution would appear on the screens of the Epsilon Eridanis system.

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

A week after, UNSC Leviathan:

"So?" - Asked a stern voice from a man in a plain medal-less naval BDU. - "What are your resolutions?"

"I will need Soren for the next mission." - A feminine calm voice replied. - "If you are kind enough, please prepare Sam's Cobalt prototype for him."

"Why is that, don't you prefer Musa?" - The confused tone in which the man said this demonstrated his real doubt on the decision. - "He or Cassandra have the charisma to deal with most situations, and the smarts too. Even Fhajad could serve as your assistant."

"He knows how to take orders."

The plain answer got more doubts that it had solved.

"Don't all spartans take orders well?"

"I saw him break a soldier's neck and treat the knee wound of another that had surrendered."

Well, that explained things for the man in the naval dress, but he still needed more explanation than just that.

"And?"

"He tried to escape once, he failed, he tries to make up for it, tries to be a good soldier; he is strong and decisive." - She listed. - "He actually reminds me of me, just not as agile nor elocuent as me~."

The answer made the white-haired officer laugh, yet he instead decided to look at some files on his personal datapad and showed to the woman on the bed-like stretcher what he needed.

"I still will send the others with you, Project: PILOT still is a must, and they can be extra firepower for you in... any case."

The hazelnut-skinned teenager just eyerolled and then nodded.

"That's why I gave you the extra spartans, didn't I?"

An eyebrow was rosen by the officer as he tried to understand what she just said.

"Did you deliberately plan this without my knowledge?" - He asked while frowning at the possibility.

"I knew something would fuck up, and I knew about the crippled being there, it is just that I did not know if they would be on cryopods too." - She explained herself. - "Though Cassandra's notes that I recovered will help with project GUGNIR, and she will be good investigating; Black team can be sent to deal with insurrectionists, Margaret too, the rest of Purple team will help you with your Section three projects... All in all it was a victory." - She smirked.

"You are a fucked up person, Osman." - Admiral Stanforth replied before downing a shot of Martian Whiskey. - "I'm glad you survived."

Silence struck for some seconds before the girl smiled and finally talked, looking directly to the screen in front of her, where the image of the construction of Project: ENDURANCE laid.

"Thank you. But I want a good suit for the funeral of the troops." - The request was astounding, but understandable. The amount of carnage was... not a good sight for anyone save for maybe a Brute. - "And a Mjolnir undersuit, Margaret's bullets were pretty efficient at downing me."

Stanforth smiled and patted the girl's head and then just walked towards the door.

"Don't worry, just recover quickly. Fifty Spartans is a good number, but without a Serin I can't coherce innies."

After that, he left the room, walking to his desk, with a pain on the heart as he felt guilty for putting youngsters through this stress.

[Heh, that old geezer.] - Serin thought before closing her eyes, and getting to sleep.

---

Some months after, a giant black-bald man took a step forwards, this time, inside a metal carapace that made him the largest human on UNSC active service.

A slender woman walked besides him, a skintight black suit with pads that were hidden with clothes reminiscent of an average politician's attire; she smiled, and looked at the place below.

"Ready for your second deployment?"

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….….

….

….

….

….

….

….

….

….

….

* The infodumps 'bout the asteriscs:

1: The UNSC Graf Spee is a Panzerschiff-class battleship, mentioned in chapter 2.

2: Alexei Huang, this AU's inventor of the Biofoam.

3: Here Fhajad and others were part of Purple team before the augmentations, Purple team was the most damaged by Project ASTER, their only successfully augmented member (technically) being Ralph.

4: Based on Mjonir G3 Armor thickness and RHA endurance against 20mm rounds nowadays.

5: The 'Shielded-elite killer knife' is the M11, but in 2526 the Master Chief killed a Zealot with just a blade, so the M8 would be the grandfather of what you'd use on reach and H4.

6: Spartan-073s name here.

7: Master Chief has feelings too, remember, this is not how we would see him in the latter years, this is his second year in a war against aliens, and the second time he sees his teammates suffer so much.

---

AN: Mates, sorry for the short chapter, but I kinda said I hoped to give one before the end of the month, and I'll work on the continuation.

And, yup, this is kind of an Anthology, that's why the timeline is kinda messy, but it is all going forward! :D

So, would you guys like to hear more about Soren's story of do we leave this aside for a while?

And… To the reviews!

AndyTheSharkGuy:

–I'm sorry mate xd. I re-read your review and… Yup; I misunderstood everything.

–And I did research mate :(

UNSC Hail Mary:

–I doubt if I can write so much, but it'd be fantastic if people like this enough to expand it, but I hope that the length I have planned is enough to satisfy you, mate, :D

–And here is the chapter, sorry again, but I will try to get 'em running sooner!

.

.

.

Now, if you have data, names or something you want to be added to the story, tell me! If you have a Spartan II or III OC that you'd like to include, tell me!

If you have any issue, question or anything, tell me! I want to get better at this, and with your help, I think we can work something out!

Have a neat day everyone!

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.