2101 hours, May 11, 2542 (UNSC military calendar)
ONI prowler Circumference, New Milan system
John-117 looked at what was happening and couldn't believe what he was seeing. An alien armada had just jumped unannounced into the New Milan system and was destroying the Covenant invasion fleet. In the first minute the Covenant had lost their escort ships, and their numbers were already dropping precipitously.
The UNSC forces which had already been moving to engage the Covenant had changed course and were now heading directly for the Covenant carrier, firing every weapon available at the only Covenant ship that still had shields. Then forty MAC rounds hit the shields, the resulting release of energy collapsing them, and tore the ship into large chunks as the rounds broke up or punched through.
The battle had lasted but four minutes, but to John, it had felt like an hour. He was taking particular note of -how- the newcomers' ships moved, to gauge the personality of their crews. There seemed to be three parts to the new alien armada.
One engaged at medium range in a standup fight, using both the spinal guns on the big ships and the broadsides of the smaller but more numerous ships, concentrating their fire on the carrier. There was little finesse, merely spreading out their forces and aiming to land their hits on a surface as large as possible to overstress the shielding.
He imagined this species must be determined. Digging in and taking hits, while dishing out just as much.
The ships in the second group had more curved hulls, reminding him somewhat of flatter Covenant Phantoms, but without the stark color difference between the armored top and the weaker underside. These engaged at range, using lasers and kinetic projectiles to take down the shields, then sent in fighters and frigates to close the distance at high speed before unleashing their nuclear weapons to finish the job.
This species seemed to be slippery, but possessed of great strength and finesse; a fighter who'd dance around his opponent, then drop them with a devastating strike.
The third group he couldn't get a read on. Their ships looked more like ornate objects of art than actual warships, although their firepower was nothing to scoff at, being the strongest of the three fleets present. The holes through the ship must have served a purpose John could not determine, but he wondered if they could somehow pivot around the ball of energy they seemed to generate inside.
They also engaged at range, like the first group, but instead of using nuclear weapons they just continued hammering the enemy ships with long-range fire. He'd noticed their main cannons did more damage to the Covenant armor, and the larger ships could shoot straight through when firing from 'above'. The ornate ship design, he thought, was therefore meant to show off wealth or power.. As the Covenant ships lost their shields the newcomers had deployed what appeared to be kamikaze ships loaded with monstrously powerful gravitic weapons, which seemed to shear large chunks of hull away. They also fired torpedoes possessing the same spatial-warping effect which dug deep into the hull and wreaked havoc inside.
He imagined these people were long ranged fighters who only got close when they needed to, but were nonetheless quite good at it.
Captain Exaviel was equally dumbstruck, then snapped out of it. "Master Chief, our prior orders still stand. We'll deploy you and your team to take out the Covenant orbital defense cannons so the reinforcement fleet can deploy the Marines safely."
The communications officer piped up. "We are receiving a transmission from the unknown ships. Sir! It has Admiral Cole's encryption and identification codes. EWAR says it's clean. Playing it now."
The voice of the legendary admiral came from the communications console. "This is Admiral Preston Jeremiah Cole. I am transmitting this message to the Citadel Expeditionary Force, formally requesting their assistance in the New Milan system. To all UNSC forces who might be listening: these aliens have saved the colony of New Ghent and are to be considered our allies against the Covenant for the time being. You will allow them to provide assistance in both space and ground operations against the Covenant."
"Verify that again." Captain Exaviel commanded. "Surely it's a fake."
"I believe the results speak for themselves, sir." John-117 said. "The Admiral's orders are clear. These aliens won the battle in orbit for us. Now it's time for us to win the ground war."
"Agreed, Master Chief. Get your team into the drop pods. We'll wait for the perfect opportunity to deploy you."
John-117 saluted the captain and marched towards the drop bay.
The Circumference had been modified to experiment with prowler-launched drop pods for Spartans, and Blue Team would be deploying this way for the third time now. Every other deployment so far had resulted in the Spartans dropping and then extracting when the Covenant began glassing.
Third time's the charm. Right? He thought to himself.
-
UNSC Marathon class cruiser Rotterdam
Vice Admiral Karil looked at the new arrivals with a sense of apprehension. They had most likely saved his fleet from the Covenant carrier and its overwhelming destructive power with their sudden arrival, but being so outnumbered and outgunned by an alien power still rubbed him the wrong way. Still, Admiral Cole's message had been confirmed as authentic by every single EWAR suite and AI in the New Milan system.
He transmitted across an open channel towards the alien fleet. "I do not know who you are, but I'm not turning down anyone who shows up with a thousand ships and helps me destroy a Covenant ship. Can you provide ground support to our army on the surface?"
His communications officer, France Powell, spoke up. "We're receiving a transmission on an UNSC channel. Unencrypted. Putting it on viewscreen."
An undeniably alien face appeared on the viewscreen. It was a large avian-looking alien, most of its grey skin covered by darker, metallic-looking plates. It had two mandibles that it seemed to be clicking. "This is Admiral Karandis. We are able to deploy strike forces groundside. What is the situation on the planet?"
It felt fundamentally -wrong- to provide an alien with intelligence about a surface battle, but that was exactly what was happening. "New Milan has a single supercontinent, and the Covenant have landed in the north. There's a mountain chain in the middle of the continent they are trying to cross. If they do, millions will starve."
The alien nodded. "We'll land strike teams to take out their anti-orbital weaponry. The rest we'll keep in reserve until you ask for them."
"Understood."
-
John-117 walked into the converted drop bay of the prowler, where Blue Team was performing their final equipment checks and discussing the upcoming mission.
"Think we can trust these aliens?" Kelly-087 asked across their team's communication channel, as she cleaned her M6D sidearm with a piece of cloth and then began examining her M45 shotgun. It was a rugged, dependable model, tough enough to be used as a club and still be able to fire afterwards. He'd seen her beat an Elite to death with one, and then unload the remaining rounds into a pack of grunts without a hiccup.
"Admiral Cole has vouched for them." Fred-104 said. "If he vouched for a Brute, I'd listen." He was examining the sights of his BR55, testing the fire selector as well as the new sights he'd added.
"And it's not like we have much of a choice." Linda-058 chimed in. "They outnumber us, remember, even if individually their ships are weaker. Did you see how they took on the carrier? It was like piranhas swarming a bull." Linda said, examining each 14.5×114mm APHE round and discarding any with the slightest imperfection. Linda refused to use any ammunition that wasn't the best for Nornfang.
To a normal UNSC squad, this kind of banter would be a serious breach of communications protocol. But they were Spartans; they knew when to talk to share information, and when to be silent and focus on the task at hand. John took his preferred weapon from the armory rack - an MA37 assault rifle with an underslung M301 40mm grenade launcher, and two M7/Caseless submachine guns in case they came up against a Grunt swarm.
"In the end, none of this will matter if we don't stop the Covenant. Fifty million people have been killed since the invasion began, and twenty million still live in the farmland to the south of the Alessandro mountain range, with many millions more missing or evacuated. We'll be deploying from orbit to take out Target Alpha, the most isolated Tyrant-class anti-orbital weapon. If we take it out, the navy can drop the ODSTs behind the Covenant advance. If possible, we'll proceed on foot or in captured transport and widen the gap in their orbital defences. Understood?"
Three green lights lit up on his HUD.
Kelly finished inspecting her weapons and placed them in her assigned drop pod. "They've been fighting for almost a month down there. Fighting for the cities is going to be like Harvest all over again."
John thought back to Harvest. It had been the second time he saw a Spartan die. Daisy-023 had fallen to the Covenant there - the second Spartan to die after Sam. John-117 had fought his way through a small Covenant army after receiving her last transmission, and when he'd found her, he'd put her necklace in her hand, closed her eyes, and activated her armor's self destruct.
Daisy had been one of the few to reject induction into the SPARTAN-II program, and one of the most difficult to manage. Easily the most emotional Spartan, she'd on more than one occasion threatened bodily harm when her temper ran high in the heat of battle. She'd never said what had made her return, but at least she had come back. Oscar-129 and Felix-123 had never returned after their escape. He sometimes wondered what had happened to them. Were they still hiding out there? Or had they been killed by the Covenant by now?
As the war dragged on, he hoped they'd show themselves again. They needed every Spartan in the fight.
"It's only been a month down there. Not the five years of hell on Harvest. We've got orbital control. Without their Tyrants, we can nuke them off the planet. " Fred said, stowing his own gear in his pod and climbing inside.
John looked at his own command pod, specifically the Havok tactical nuke stowed in an overhead compartment. It was the last one the Circumference had left. Normally they would have had another half a dozen nukes to use, but the effects of the war on supply lines and the loss of many outer colonies had left the UNSC's nuclear stockpile dangerously depleted. They were using nukes faster than they could build them. And even if the Spartans had priority, a supply depot couldn't give nukes it didn't have.
He climbed into his pod, secured himself and closed the hatch.
The alarm indicating an impending drop went off, red warning lights turning on. In thirty seconds, the system would start pumping the air out of the compartment, and their drop pods would be prepped for release.
-
"Admiral. This is ridiculous. We're working with aliens now?" General Milosovic, the commander of the UNSC Army forces on New Milan, angrily stated over their communications line. "You can't expect my men to fight alongside aliens they have no idea about."
"General, we don't have the luxury to look a gift horse in the mouth. And in any case, their fleet is already moving into position to launch shuttles. Now, unless you want humanity to be in -two- interstellar wars instead of one, I suggest you give the order to your men to -not- shoot them. Unless you want to disobey an order from Admiral Cole himself?"
Karil continued. "Their general has convinced me they'll focus their attacks on the enemy orbital defenses, as well as the least secure mountain passes. With their Tyrant guns down, I can provide ortillery support and we can drive the Covenant from the planet. We're focusing on Target Alpha so as to open a hole in their orbital defenses I can launch ODSTs down."
"I'll send the message." General Milosovic nodded. "But I can't guarantee there won't be any incidents. My men are jumpy, hungry, and worn out."
"Then we'll deal with that later, general."
-
Three.
Two.
One.
Drop.
The pods containing the Spartans launched from the Circumference. John felt the pod shake as it fell through the atmosphere.
Through the viewscreen in front of him, he could see the shattered remains of the UNSC armies that had already tried, and failed, to defend New Milan. Destroyed tanks, armored personnel carriers, downed fighters and gunships, Pelicans as far as the eye could see, and even the wrecks of three Vulture gunships. He grit his teeth. Those were exceedingly rare as the war progressed. The Vultures would be hard to replace.
"Prepare for course correction on my mark. Current LZ is too hot." John-117 said. "We'll land on that ridge to the west of Target Alpha. Sync to my pod. Maneuver on my mark."
Three green lights lid up on his HUD.
The pod began to shake harder.
"Mark." He said, the four pods immediately diverting to head for the small ridge.
All their chutes deployed, except for John's. He quickly pressed the button for the emergency chutes, which released safely.
"Blue-One. You're using your emergency chutes. Are you alright?" Kelly asked.
"Confirmed. Primaries failed. Rocket burn in five. Brace for impact."
Three green lights lit up on his HUD.
Then the retro-rockets kicked in, slowing their descent.
"Confirm rocket ignition."
Three green lights blinked again.
Then the pods slammed into the ground, throwing up explosive bolts activated and the hatch of the Master Chief's pod flew off its hinges. He retrieved his weapons, as well as the Havok tactical nuke, and stuck them to the magnetic locks on his armor, the nuke fitting snugly on his lower back.
He looked down from the ridge, quickly examining the Covenant defenses around Target Alpha. A Type-38 anti-orbital cannon, also known as the Tyrant, with two more under construction nearby, the closest just around two hundred meters away. Each of them could destroy a UNSC frigate in a single shot.
Standard complement of Covenant guards. A large group of Grunts roughly forty strong, ten Jackals, five Elite Minors and a single Major. The defenders were only just starting to respond to their arrival. They wouldn't be given the chance.
"Blue-Four, take out the Elites. Blue-Two, take out the Jackals and the Elite with carbines. Blue-Three, with me. We're going in for a close assault."
Once again, three confirmation lights lit up on his HUD.
John, Kelly, and Fred sprinted down the ridge at over fifty kilometers an hour, opening up with their weapons at the six-second mark. Their aim was impeccable, .
Four shots rang out, and four Elites collapsed, headless. Linda's handiwork.
Kelly emptied her M5D pistol into the Grunts advancing on them, each shot being a perfect headshot.
Fred took cover behind a large rocky outcropping, firing his DMR, precise shots taking out Jackal after Jackal and forcing the remaining Elite Minor into cover, only for Linda to take the Minor's head off when she'd reloaded.
John took aim at the Elite Major and fired his underslung grenade launcher, hitting the alien in the chest and knocking him back, then switching to fully automatic fire and clearing a path through the remaining Grunts.
Kelly was the first to close the distance to the Major, firing her shotgun as she charged him at the speeds only she was capable of. Her first shot finished off the Elite's shields, the second ravaged his chest, and the third, point blank one, blew his brains out.
John's mission clock read twenty-five seconds after landing.
Kelly formed up at the entrance to the Tyrant's base, taking cover to the right of the doorway, with John getting into position on the left. They nodded to each other and entered, keeping an eye on their motion trackers as they moved. There was nobody left inside.
Kelly took a pack of plastic explosive from one of her equipment pouches and put it on the power core.
"Two minutes." John said.
He activated his comms. "Two minutes until the gun goes down. Take any Jackal shields you can find. Special Materials has been asking for more. After that, we'll head for the unfinished Tyrants and destroy them before they become operational."
Confirmation lights lit up on his HUD again.
We made a gap in their defenses. Now it's time for the ODSTs to force it open. John thought to himself.
Linda spoke up over the comms. "Four Ghosts heading to your position."
An idea immediately formed in John-117's head. "Blue-Four, take out their drivers."
Four shots rang out in the distance.
"Transportation secured."
John looked up to see the first ODST drop pods heading through the gap Blue Team had created.