Author's Note: Still alive! Just really bad at dealing with the many ups and downs of life and also trying to write. I'm really sorry. On the bright side, I'm back! And Separatist-Supporter is, as always, the greatest beta reader in all the world. kpmh2001, your reviews give me life and I don't deserve you. Hope you enjoy the chapter.
1830 HOURS, APRIL 24, 2559, (MILITARY CALENDAR) /
VALLEJO CITY, PLANET BALLAST, EPSILON ERIDANI SYSTEM
Alarms blared through Fred's ears. First, the tone warning that he was in a free-fall. Second, the proximity warning. Then his hands collided with the Watcher's hard light frame.
The Spartan's fingertips punched through the flying machine's armored "skin," securing his grip while it rapidly lost altitude, unbalanced by the extra weight suddenly stacked upon its thrusters. Before he even completely formed the thought, the neural uplink connecting him to his armor brought the distance to the ground up on his HUD – eleven meters and dropping at a rate of two meters per second.
The Watcher began spinning wildly, juking from side to side while it amped up the force to counteract their descent. Fred realized that, rather than random evasion maneuvers, the drone was angling itself back over the park in the direction of the Promethean ground forces. The Spartan clenched his left fist, pushing his fingertips deeper into the metal casing in his grasp as its owner tried to buck free of him. With his other hand he removed the combat knife from its housing in his rifle's foregrip.
Fred checked the distance to the ground again – seven meters, and the rate of their fall was rapidly ticking down to zero as the Watcher corrected for his weight. In the meantime it continued to buck and lurch like a bull trying to throw its rider, succeeding in whipping the Spartan around wildly with its rapid movements. Fred squeezed his left hand even tighter to strengthen his hold on the construct and with his right he reached up to stab his blade through the Watcher's head.
The machine was in the middle of a hard bank to the left, carrying them both over the treeline and into the park, when Fred's knife plunged through its metal "face." The Watcher's evasive juking suddenly halted and it began to plummet toward the ground even as it disintegrated in a bright orange flash. He let go of the construct's disintegrating carapace and let the momentum of its final evasive maneuver send him dropping directly into a thicket of pine trees.
He collided with the first tree shoulder-first, smashing straight through the trunk. The impact, absorbed by the MJOLNIR's shields but leaving its own mark in return, slowed his forward momentum enough that he ricocheted off the second tree he came into contact with like a pinball. He tucked himself into a ball as he smashed through the boughs of several great pines, managing somehow to keep his feet oriented to the ground as he fell the last few meters. Finally the proximity alarm in his helmet shrieked its final warning just before his feet touched ground and sent him into an uncontrolled tumble.
He finally skidded to a stop, flat on his back with his feet in the air, leaving a deep furrow in the soft earth behind him. He rolled to his feet and scanned his surroundings, turning the knife still clenched in his right hand to use it better. No contacts appeared on his radar.
He breathed a quiet sigh of relief at the realization that the Prometheans hadn't detected him. It came as an added relief that his teammates missed his ungraceful fall.
The Spartan rose to his feet and did an equipment check. His sidearm had somehow remained coupled to the magmount on his thigh throughout his tumbling across the ground, and after a quick scan he found his DMR lying across the top of a thick bush some six meters from him. He retrieved it and checked to ensure that it was in working order before getting his bearings. He then set off in the direction of the clearing where he last saw Alex.
A burst of static came across his comms, followed by John's voice. "Team One is running fire-and-maneuver," he said. "We'll draw them as far from the park as we can before we fall back. Rendezvous at HQ as planned."
"Blue Two copies," he answered before disconnecting the communication. The original plan was to reunite at the bunker, designated HQ, at 1945 hours. Given it was an hour's march, that left him with a short window to find the wayward scientists. Kelly would quickly make her way to his position with Alpin and Ellsworth in tow, which allowed him to focus solely on reaching the stranded civilians.
Fred dodged through trees and shrubs, periodically glancing at his motion tracker. Though he was seriously hindered by the environment, he made good time through the woods ringing the park. He slowed down as he neared the clearing where Alex had argued with an Officer just minutes ago.
Three red blips appeared at the edge of his motion tracker, what he reasoned to be the far side of the clearing. He slowed his pace even more, creeping through the trees as stealthily as possible. His mind raced anxiously as the three red dots grew closer the nearer he got to his goal.
Eventually his target came into view. The clearing was a wide circle with soft-looking grass and beautiful flowers, ringed with the same tall trees Fred was still working his way through. At the eastern edge the technicians were hunkered down in the same place as when last he saw them. They were not in any immediate danger, though the trio of red dots glowing on is FOF tracker quickly revealed itself to be a fireteam of the mechanical Soldiers. The machines were slowly making their way through the clearing, weapons drawn as they searched.
The constructs moved in a parallel search pattern, each taking an equal portion of the clearing. Given that the scientists were still barely hidden by a fallen tree, Fred surmised that whatever effect the device had on the Officer earlier was still working; they were essentially invisible to the Prometheans.
Fred sighted in on the lead Soldier, though he knew that if he fired now he could endanger the people he was hoping to rescue. Though the action grated against his nerves, he waited.
Suddenly, the enemy group's pattern changed. They quickly moved toward each other, converging on a point roughly five yards from Alex's position. At once, the three automatons began whipping their heads around – scanning for something. Almost incredibly, they didn't seem to realize how close they were to the targets, poorly hidden behind a fallen tree branch and almost close enough for them to touch.
Instead of advancing on her, the two machines flanking the leader began sidestepping in a wide circle around the techs, seemingly probing against some invisible obstruction.
They're testing the bubble, Fred realized. He couldn't help but admire the adaptability of the walking weapons – even blinded by Alex's device, they seemed to be researching the obstacle in their sensors and reporting the limits of the invisible bubble it generated. That said, as much as he may have appreciated their efficiency, he wasn't about to let them succeed.
The leader, who had yet to move other than a few flicks of its head that Fred interpreted as orders to continue their search, slowly reached its weapon out straight away from itself. When the Soldier's arm was nearly completely outstretched, the end of its weapon began to crack and buzz. The machine observed its weapon for a moment before it retracted the Suppressor, extending its left hand in the same direction.
Fred tensed again, preparing to fire, as the hand continued to stretch forward, reaching directly for Alex. Fred slowly began to tighten his finger as the automaton menacingly approached the scientist.
Suddenly the lights on the back of the construct's hand winked out, and the appendage came to pieces and fell in a pile on the ground below.
The Soldier quickly retracted its arm and curiously studied the vacant space at the end of its wrist. With a quick movement the machine moved its incomplete appendage behind itself and raised the Suppressor in its other hand. The other Soldiers raised their own rifles in unison. Each was aiming in the general direction of Graham and Alex, though none of them were directly facing the pair.
Suddenly, Alex rose to her feet.
The Spartan snapped his rifle up to sight on the fireteam's leader, but his line of fire was obstructed as the young woman took off in a dash toward his target. He swallowed a curse, scrambling forward to try for a better vantage point.
As she ran, the Soldiers on either side of Alex seemed to track her progress. Fred quickly shifted his aim to the left and squeezed the trigger the moment his targeting reticle landed on the other Soldier's head. The orange lights burning within the Soldier flashed more vibrantly as it began to deconstruct, though the Spartan didn't wait to watch the process complete before turning to the second target.
Alex continued her charge toward the leader. Fred jumped to his feet and moved as quickly as he could to the east, stepping into the clearing and sacrificing cover for vantage to get a view around the charging woman. Though he was faster than Alex, she managed to distance herself perfectly to keep her small frame between Fred and the Soldier he was trying to put down - preferably before it managed to harm the insane woman charging it unarmed. By the time Fred managed to put himself at enough of an angle to see the Soldier she was running toward, Alex was less than three meters from it.
The leader noticed Fred's movement and snapped its Suppressor up while Fred prepared to fire on it. The other remaining Soldier had already begun to fire on the Spartan, and his aim was thrown off as a few of the construct's frantic rounds splashed against his shields.
Fred juked hard to the right before spinning and bursting in a long lunge to his left. The Soldier firing on him continued to track its fire in Fred's original trajectory, and the Spartan used the short time afforded him by his evasive maneuver to target the leader once more. With a quick breath the Spartan fired a round dead-center between his enemy's glowing eyes.
In the split second before his bullet found a home in its target, Fred watched the lights in the Armiger's metal face suddenly go dark. It began to collapse, and the 7.62 mm round ricocheted harmlessly off part of the Soldier's face as they unceremoniously clattered on the ground.
Spending no time on further contemplation, Fred turned in the direction of the final Soldier. His shields flashing a dull orange as it fired on him. In a snap the Spartan found the final threat and centered it in his DMR's crosshairs, firing four times at the machine's center of mass. While the metal casing of the Soldier's body stopped the first shot cold, the 7.62 mm round left a sizable dimple in the metal. The second round, landing almost exactly on top of the first, left a sizable crack. The third and fourth bullets punched through the metal, cracking the inner mechanics and effectively "killing" the Soldier.
Fred turned back to the metallic heap on the ground. Bewildered at the construct's uncharacteristic fragmentation, Fred reached out and picked the lifeless head up before scanning for whatever killed it. His scan ended when his eyes alighted upon Alex, crouched a few meters away with the device clutched carefully in her hands.
The Spartan slowly approached Alex and extended a hand to her. "Did you know that was going to work?" he asked as the woman gingerly accepted his proffered hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
She dropped her gaze to the machinery in her hands and shook her head. "No idea," she said through adrenaline-induced heavy breathing. "At best I was hoping that it would blind the thing long enough for you to kill it." She lifted her eyes and looked at Fred, offering a shy smile. "Call it a happy accident."
"That was a pretty dumb bet to put all your chips on," Fred said, studying the object in her hands. "You could have died, you know."
"You want a big reward, you've got to take a big risk." She answered quickly, a small smirk touching her lips.
Before Fred could offer a response, Graham – who had until now remained motionless, paralyzed in fear – suddenly scrambled to his feet and made a dash for the nearest thicket of trees. Alex turned at the sound and started, leaning forward to chase after him.
After a quick consultation of his motion tracker, Fred placed a hand on her shoulder.
"What are you doing? He'll get away!" she exclaimed, looking over her shoulder and leaning against his restraining arm.
"Let him run," he answered calmly. "He's not going anywhere, trust me."
Alex glared disbelievingly at him over her shoulder as Graham left the clearing and slipped into the thicket of trees, but she didn't bother to pull against his grip. She may not have trusted his judgment completely, Fred reasoned, but she was smart enough to realize that she wasn't going to move if he didn't want her to. Soon enough, however, movement in the trees the errant ONI operative had just used for his escape drew her attention.
"Is he coming back?" Alex wondered aloud as she caught the sight of someone walking toward them.
"More or less," he answered with a smile. A moment later an armored Spartan stepped into the clearing, the large faceplate of her Hermes helmet shining in the afternoon sun. In her right hand she held Oathsworn, her customized M45 shotgun. In her left hand she dragged an unconscious scientist by the collar of his jacket.
Two men emerged from the trees behind Kelly. Alpin was opening and closing his left hand and rubbing his knuckles like he just punched something. Or someone. Ellsworth squinted in the brightness of the clearing but carefully scanned the area until his eyes alighted on Alex and Fred.
Without a word the young man took off at a run, slowing enough that when he gently collided with Alex's smaller frame he didn't knock her down. He wrapped her up in a tight embrace and said, "What were you thinking? Don't ever put yourself in the middle of a mess like this again." Though his words were admonishing, his voice only carried relief.
Alex leaned back from him with a smile and asked, "What, do you have some monopoly on acting before thinking?" Ellsworth simply nodded, and Alex rolled her eyes. "Well," she said, taking a step back from him so he would release her with one of his arms, "Somebody had to do a field check. And if I hadn't, we never would've figured that out." She proudly pointed at the Soldier in a heap.
"What happened there?" Kelly asked when she was near enough to be heard, nodding at the metal head in Fred's hand.
"He picked a fight with the wrong person, and she ripped him apart with her bare hands," Fred answered. He glanced at the woman who shrugged and brushed his comments off with a wave of her hand.
"Nothing that dramatic," she corrected him. "Our invention works in ways I didn't expect it to, and I got lucky."
Kelly shrugged one shoulder, "We love getting lucky."
The three civilians turned in near-unison to look at her. Kelly squatted with her back to them, observing the crumbled Soldier remains and oblivious to the attention she was receiving.
"Do the two of you get lucky . . . often?" Ellsworth asked, a confused smile creeping onto his face. Alex reached out and slapped his stomach with the back of her hand.
"Not as often as we'd like, but probably more than most," Kelly answered, her voice rising in pitch and almost turning into a question when she looked up from the disassembled Soldier to see Ellsworth's cheeks begin to redden slightly, Alex pinching the bridge of her nose between her right thumb and index finger, and Alpin knitting his eyebrows together in an expression that somehow expressed equal parts curiosity and disappointment.
Fred found himself as confused as his partner. The onboard computer in his MJOLNIR armor, linked to his thoughts through the neural interface, pulled up a solution to his unspoken query in less than a second.
In a way that was as unsettling as it was familiar, he almost heard the words as they ticked by in the bottom corner of his HUD.
"Getting lucky", a colloquial term dating back to as early as the 20th Century, formally means "to have good luck." More informally, the phrase was expanded to take on additional significance, principally denoting the act of –
Fred cut the message off when the realization dawned on him. In spite of himself, a wide grin spread across his face as he caught onto the implication of Kelly's innocently uttered responses.
"Blue Three," he grunted, drawing her attention. "They're messing with you."
Kelly cocked her head slightly to the side for a moment before she was hit by the same understanding Fred had been. In a flourish she stood and rested Oathsworn against her shoulder, her right index finger still noticeably on the trigger, and placed her left hand on her hip. "I suppose you all think that was terribly funny," she said threateningly.
Alpin's expression snapped back to one of disinterest and he suddenly found something very interesting to examine on the toe of his boot. Alex's eyebrows raised and she subconsciously took a few steps that put Ellsworth between herself and the miffed Spartan. Most of the color drained from Ellsworth's face as he stammered a quiet "No, ma'am."
"Smart answer," Fred said, cutting off whatever angry remark Kelly might have prepared. "We're still on a tight window people, time to get a move on. Get that device locked down, and someone get Graham on his feet."
"I don't mean to worry anyone," Ellsworth said, nervously glancing between the device in his hands and the angry Spartan subtly threatening him with a shotgun, "But this thing seems like it's heating up."
Alex worriedly rushed back to his side, took the device from him, and knelt on the ground to examine it. After a few moments she looked up worriedly. "The power source is failing. It's overheating, if I don't shut it down immediately, we could lose the entire project."
"The power supply can't hold up to the energy drain from the device," Graham said haughtily. "Yet another reason why my decision to barter with -" His tirade cut off suddenly when Alpin's foot connected with his shoulder.
"If it can't wait, shut it down," Fred nodded at Alex, then turned to the others. "The device is our top priority. Blue Three, go out ahead and make sure our path is clear. Alpin, get Graham ready to move. Ellsworth, you and I are on rear-guard."
Kelly was gone before he even finished doling out orders, and the three civilians quickly stepped into their roles. While Alpin hauled a belligerent Graham to his feet Ellsworth stepped away from the device to allow Alex room to work. The police officer removed his SR85 from where it hung from his shoulder by a strap.
A green light flashed next to Kelly's name on his HUD, indicating a clear path.
"Move," Fred ordered. Alpin immediately began following Kelly's trail, menacingly prodding a begrudging Graham with the end of his rifle. Alex followed right after him, tightly clutching the device in both hands. Ellsworth finally moved from Fred's side and jogged to his place in line behind Alex, and Fred followed them, keeping his back to the civilians and his rifle raised to cover their rear.
The distant sound of splintering wood reached his ears. Something was crashing through the trees in their direction. Something big.
"We've got incoming. Kelly, keep on point. We need to get back to the tunnels as soon as possible. I'll take the rear. Ellsworth," he added, "keep yourself midway between me and the others." Kelly's light flashed green, and the others nodded, increasing their pace. Even Graham seemed to have found new motivation to get moving as the sound became loud enough for him to hear.
Ellsworth hung back a moment, watching the others move away from him. "You planning to take whatever that thing is by yourself?" he asked. "Judging by the sound it's making, I doubt they want to be your friend."
"Priority is that device your friend is carrying. Our first job is to make sure it gets back in one piece," Fred answered without turning to look the young man in the eye. "I should be able to handle whatever is coming. I need you to keep an eye on Alex and her invention until I do. Can you handle that?" He glanced over his shoulder to take in a familiar sight. The young man was nervous but doing his best not to show it. He was also eager. Excited, almost.
He had some fight in him, there was no question about that.
With a nod Ellsworth turned and jogged after the others. After a few moments Fred followed suit, noting that the approaching sounds of startled animals and broken branches were growing louder by the second. Their pursuer was moving fast.
The subway tunnels, which would provide the best cover from any pursuers, were still a kilometer away. Even with the civilians moving at a jog, it would take several minutes to get there. Minutes Fred didn't believe they had.
"Kelly," he said over TEAMCOM, "Keep a distance of twenty meters in front. Let's not open ourselves up to an ambush. Ellsworth, tighten the gap with the others. Everyone stay alert." Just as he turned to catch the group again, the Spartan caught a glimpse of their hunter.
It was massive, towering over even his abnormal height. It had long, awkward looking limbs and a large beetle-like carapace over its shoulders. Instead of a lower left arm there an orange hardlight blade, and an incineration cannon was attached to its right. It charged toward him, roughly one hundred meters away. The construct was neither swift nor agile as the nimbler Soldiers, though it wouldn't take much time at all before it was close enough to be lethal.
"Contact!" Fred shouted, lifting his DMR and firing a few rounds at the metal behemoth. "Knight-commander! Scatter and make for the tunnel access immediately, everyone move!"
Without turning to ensure his orders were followed, the Spartan charged toward the Promethean. He moved laterally, wary of any stray fire from the hulking machine's arm-mounted incinerator cannon hitting the people behind him. He fired several times as he closed the distance to the Knight, hoping to get close enough for it to opt for the melee weapon attached to its other limb.
"I'm coming to you, LT," Kelly said, her voice carrying over the speaker in his helmet.
"Negative," Fred cut her off, "find Alex and the device and make sure they're secured." He let off a few shots in the Knight's direction to keep it occupied. "Don't worry," he added while jumping sideways to avoid the construct's hastily fired return shot. "I've got this."
"Copy." Kelly answered, though her voice betrayed the argument that she tried to mask.
Fred had no choice but to let her unspoken disagreement hang in the air, opting to slap a fresh magazine into his weapon instead of answering her. In moments, he was within arm's reach of the enraged Knight.
The Spartan immediately ducked under a powerful swipe from the Knight's blade and raised his rifle to fire on it. At point-blank range each round punched through the metal armor surrounding the construct's more vital parts, though the bullets cut straight through without making much of an impact on the internal workings. Fred stepped backward to avoid the lightblade's return swing, then braced his DMR above him with both hands to catch a downward blow from the Knight's other arm.
The heavy cannon came down on the Fred's rifle with enough force to crack the DMR's casing and nearly wrap the weapon around it. The Spartan himself was forced downward from the strength of the blow and had to brace himself on one knee. He slid his left hand down the DMR's bent foregrip enough to grasp the hilt of his concealed knife before throwing himself in a backward roll to create distance between him and his opponent. When he terminated his roll, landing on his knees in as mobile a stance as he could manage, Fred found himself staring down the barrel of the Knight's charging weapon.
Fred heard the Promethean let out a sinister, barking laugh as he dove sideways to avoid its first blast. He continued his frantic evasive tactics while the Knight continued to track him, its shots coming close enough to make his shields flare. Suddenly, the barrage was interrupted as a hail of 7.62 millimeter rounds collided with the Knight's back, throwing it off balance.
In a flash the Knight turned around and fired at its second attacker. Fred took the opportunity to leap back to his feet and rush the construct again. He jumped forward, landing on the Promethean's bulbous metal carapace. The Spartan scrambled for purchase for a moment before finding hold, even as the Knight bucked and writhed beneath him. With his combat knife in his right hand and his left securely gripping the Knight's shoulder, Fred pushed himself off the ground and wheeled around to collide with the construct's midsection in a powerful two-footed kick.
Metal dented beneath his feet and the Knight stumbled backward from the force of his strike, its lightblade swinging wildly in Fred's direction despite the machine's lack of balance.
Fred stepped close enough to grab the swinging arm with his left hand. He then turned and brought his right elbow down on the appendage with enough force to shatter the metal, freeing the blade. He then thrust the Knight's own weapon into its midsection before it managed a response to his assault. Finally, Fred plunged his own knife through the construct's skull. With a groan, it began to disintegrate.
"Threat neutralized," he reported to Kelly. Though he was breathing somewhat heavily from the exertion, he couldn't stop himself from adding, "Told you I could handle it."
"Copy, Lieutenant Smart-mouth," came her reply. "Two civilians and one soon-to-be-former ONI operative secured and accounted for. I haven't found the kid yet."
"Understood. I got an unexpected assist, he must have circled back. I may teach him a lesson about following orders, but I'll get him to the tunnel in one piece. Observe radio silence until further notice."
Fred turned in the direction of his surprise ally, scanning the foliage for a police officer.
Instead, he saw nothing but trees. He ventured out further, searching for any sign of the young man.
A strange sound came to him. The Spartan wheeled around, M6C raised and eyes searching for a target. The sound came again, this time sounding like a cough. Fred cautiously stepped forward, eyeing his surroundings for a potential attack, as he followed the sound. Quickly he came upon a fallen tree, its bisected trunk smoldering and letting off a faint trail of smoke.
"Did we get him?" a quiet, pained voice asked. Fred looked again and found the form of a man pinned beneath the tree, the thickest part of its trunk pressing down on his ribcage. Ellsworth managed to crane his neck far enough to see Fred. He coughed again before saying, "I started to worry about you for a second there."
"We got him," Fred answered before indicating the fallen tree and asking, "What happened? Can you move?"
Ellsworth shook his head and said, "I got out of the way of his shot, but I didn't notice that it hit the tree until it was coming down on me." He coughed again, wincing every time a cough moved his body.
Fred considered his options. He didn't know what internal damage may have been done to the young man, and it would only be exacerbated if he tried to remove the tree. That said, they didn't have time to wait. They needed to get back immediately.
"I'm going to remove the tree and get you to your feet," he said, slapping his sidearm back into place on his thigh. "It's going to hurt." With his knife he cut a strip of fabric from Ellsworth's shirt and wrapped it around a small broken branch, gingerly placing the wrapped wood between Ellsworth's teeth. "Bite down on this," he ordered, "and try not to scream."
The Spartan moved to a position where he could better grab the tree trunk. "On the count of five," he warned. "One. Two. Three." Suddenly, he lifted the tree.
Ellsworth screamed.