The rain fell steadily and loudly outside the dimly lit cavern on The Ark. It had been raining for over an hour already and was slated to continue for at least another three. Although the Spartans' Mjolnir armor reduced the rain to a negligible annoyance, the Banished squadron they had spent the day following decided to make camp and wait out the downpour. Any effort to advance would be an unnecessary risk, and as such Jerome gave the order to lie low until the storm passed.
It was rare for Red Team to have time to kill. Deployments always demanded complete focus for long periods, leaving little time for rest or relaxation. Even when off-duty, Red Team spent much of their time preparing for the next mission aboard the Spirit of Fire. The Phoenix-class vessel had proved to be an adequate, if not comfortable new home for Jerome, Douglas, and Alice. Aside from an impressive armory and multiple battle-sim bays, the three super-soldiers enjoyed a barracks wing all to themselves. This arrangement had the hidden benefit of preventing other soldiers from assailing the Spartans with pleas for advice and innumerable questions.
In the humid confines of their cave, Jerome leaned against the wall near the large circular entrance. He turned his head slowly, examining as many details as he could about their makeshift shelter. Douglas's towering form entered Jerome's vision as he scanned the rear portion of the cave. With a gloved hand, Douglas wiped some dirt off his right pauldron, revealing a red phoenix emblem. He crossed his arms and nodded to Jerome, who continued sweeping his gaze to the right. As he reached the far-right wall, Jerome saw Alice seated on a boulder. She was staring down at her hands. After a few seconds, she lifted her head.
"I'm bored," she said to no one in particular.
"You could help me carve up this wall. I'm thinking of recreating the Battle of Thermopylae." Douglas retrieved his knife from its holster on his leg and motioned toward Alice. "I need someone to give me a zoomed-out view as I work." Alice stood from her seat on the boulder and glanced at Jerome before turning to face Douglas.
"Thanks but no thanks, Doug. I've never had an artist's eye," she replied jokingly.
Douglas shrugged. "Suit yourself."
Despite his admiration for Douglas' optimistic demeanor, Jerome sighed quietly, closing his eyes underneath his visor. Alice moved to join him, leaning against the wall opposite his.
"You need to loosen up," she said.
Jerome opened his eyes to see Alice looking at him, her head tilted slightly to the side.
"Funny. I'm usually the one telling you to relax," he responded. Jerome could recall multiple instances when he found Alice running battle scenarios in the middle of the night on the Spirit of Fire. Jerome might have been Red Team's leader, but Alice was the most dedicated soldier he had ever met. She was confident in the field and rightly so. Both Jerome and Douglas agreed that she was a natural-born Spartan, if such a thing existed.
"That's true," Alice started, "but even I can see that there's nothing more to do right now. Maybe you should try and enjoy that."
Jerome knew she was right. With all the chaos associated with their arrival at the Ark, he had not allowed himself any time to decompress. And, beyond the normal stresses of combat, Jerome regretted the loss of Sergeant John Forge. Back at the Apex Site, Jerome was prepared to detonate the FTL drive himself to ensure the destruction of the Forerunner fleet. Forge, however, insisted on doing it. Jerome couldn't help but feel that if he'd at least tried to reason with the Sergeant, he might still be alive.
"You're right," Jerome conceded. He shifted and stood up straighter. "How do you suggest I enjoy our little vacation?"
"Good question. I wish we had a sim bay right now. I've been wanting to try a new airborne offensive tactic." Alice pushed off from the wall and began to pace in front of the cave entrance. "As soon as we make it back, I'm reserving a slot for all of us. We could get some time in before the next mission. Maybe even two sessions! That would give me enough time t0 "
"Alice?" Jerome interrupted. Alice turned on her heel and looked up at him. He motioned with his hand to look outside the cave in the direction of the Banished campsite. While the rain obscured her vision somewhat, Alice could clearly make out multiple moving bodies.
"Guess vacation's over. They're getting ready to move," she observed.
Jerome nodded in agreement and turned to Douglas, who was immersed in his wall carving. "Doug, time to wrap it up. We're leaving."
Douglas scoffed and stowed his knife. He stepped back and raised his arms as if he were unveiling a priceless work of art. "Well, what do you think?" He asked.
On the wall was a series of scratches that vaguely resembled a group of stick figures. Even with their perfect vision, Jerome and Alice both struggled to see what was happening within the carving.
"It's…nice, Doug. I really like what you did with the, um…" Alice stammered, hoping that Jerome would step in.
"Phalanx…" Jerome finished. "You really captured the Greeks' strategic genius."
"You are too kind," Douglas said, bowing.
The three Spartans quickly emerged from the cave. As they stepped through the underbrush, the rain emitted a muted tink as it hit their armor. Two-hundred yards up the path, the Banished squadron was walking at brisk pace. The group was comprised of five Unggoy and two Jiralhanae. Grunts and brutes, as humans took to calling them. The grunts wielded needlers and plasma pistols while the brutes brandished their modified plasma rifles. One of them, though, had a gravity hammer slung across his back.
Jerome used his visor to zoom in on his targets. "They're maintaining standard infantry formation: grunts up front, brutes in the back," he said quietly into his comm. Alice and Douglas acknowledged his statement while the trio continued to follow the Banished from a distance. After 15 minutes, a large outpost came into view. A large, weathered sign outside showed that the complex was originally a UNSC research station, but the Banished had since taken over the area. The former human base was now a stronghold for the enemy, and Red Team was keen to correct that cruel irony.
The squadron the Spartans had tailed to the outpost disappeared within its fortified walls. Jerome, Alice, and Douglas were lying prone at the crest of a small hill just southeast of the base. Although there were no infantry patrolling the area, two automatic turrets guarded the front of the main building.
"We'll need to slip past them in order to get inside," Jerome said, pointing at the turrets.
"Yes, thank you for that. I had no idea." Douglas muttered, sneering under his helmet. Jerome and Alice both looked over at him.
"What's with the sarcasm?" Jerome asked, raising an eyebrow.
Douglas shifted his weight but did not turn to face them. "You were both lying when you complimented my carving." There was a hint of sadness in his voice that immediately betrayed a hurt deeper than that caused by an insincere compliment. The authenticity of his sorrow surprised Alice and Jerome, whose faces softened within their helmets. Jerome raised his left arm and laid it across Douglas's shoulders in a side hug.
"I'm sorry, Doug. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings." Jerome said earnestly.
"I'm sorry too," Alice followed.
Douglas was silent for a moment before thanking them. As the moment passed, Alice tried to think of the truth behind Douglas's distress. Nothing immediately came to mind, but she couldn't help but think how similar they were to a family. Douglas was despite his size the little brother of the group. The definition of a gentle giant, she thought. He was certainly more comfortable showing his emotions than either Jerome or Alice herself. As she considered why that might be, Jerome lifted his arm off Douglas's armored shoulders, and the three Spartans formed a plan to circumvent the building's defenses.
Jerome and Douglas stealthily moved north toward the back of the building while Alice walked casually to the front. As Alice approached the turrets' effective range, Jerome and Douglas split up and positioned themselves directly behind the western and eastern turrets, respectively. As she crossed the detection threshold, Alice gave the turrets a mocking wave. With inhuman speed, she began to weave back and forth across the threshold. Her movements caused the turrets to loop between standby and active states, preventing them from firing on Alice or detecting Jerome and Douglas, who promptly deactivated them.
"Nice work," Jerome said. "Time to get inside."
Jerome took point as they entered the outpost. The Spartans walked cautiously, keeping their weapons pointed downrange and constantly checking their motion trackers for movement. Eventually they turned a corner and found a closed door. Jerome knelt in front of the control panel and, after half a minute, opened the door.
"Where is everyone?" Douglas asked.
"I don't know, and I don't like this." Alice answered. "It's too quiet."