The Dominion, Bridge
October 7th, 1140 Menagerie time, 2552 UNSC military Calendar
The meeting in the War Room had been cut short by Lieutenant Clark, as something on the ground demanded his attention. But before he and Bradford had returned to the Bridge, however, Ben had delivered a message from Thomas, containing his own suggestion on their next course of action.
Thomas had been doing a lot of work for a sick man. He had focused on what unforeseen problems might cause serious trouble in the future, and the conclusion he had reached from all of his research was simple: the UNSC needed money, and fast. Having a somewhat stable economic presence would offer them a reliable way to resupply their depleting resources, and also give them more diplomatic options.
Did he really feel the need to explain why money is useful? Richard thought, slightly insulted, but more so curious as to Thomas's thought process.
He had also suggested that the ever tenuous morale of the Dominion's crew would be stabilized if they were able to start issuing Basic Pay, as well as Hazard Pay for the Marines on the ground. However, he had also pointed out that it would need to be a constant point of focus for them, and that Morale would likely get worse before it got better.
That's fair enough, I did overhear a few Marines wondering if they'll get back pay for all of this crap, and they certainly deserve it. Richard thought. He wasn't horribly bothered by not getting paid, especially after he'd realized that he probably held more destructive power at his fingertips than anyone on Remnant, a fact that substantially disturbed him.
The biggest obstacle that Thomas had listed was that their own money was worthless. He had listed out a whole page of reasons why the UEG Credit now carried more value with its zinc and plastic content than as any sort of currency. His suggestion was to issue Remnant's standardized currency, the Lien, in its place. However, they only had a proportionally insignificant amount of it, and almost all of it was in physical bank-notes. Thomas had provided a handful of suggested methods to get more, but evidently he hadn't gotten very far. He'd also written half a novel's worth of political observations, but all of that would have to wait until they had more time.
Maybe we could combine his and Bradford's ideas- Richard thought, but had his thoughts interrupted by someone speaking to him.
"Sir, incoming transmission from General Ironwood!" Gillespie called out, silencing the chatter of the Bridge.
"Patch him through." Richard ordered, quietly dreading the oncoming conversation.
"This oughta be good." Bradford muttered, taking his position by Richard's side.
Ironwood's unwaveringly professional expression quickly filled one of the view screens that lined the front of the Bridge. He looked somewhat tired, but showed no indication that it was affecting his disposition.
"Hello, Commander." Ironwood said dryly.
"Hello General, what's the occasion?" Richard asked, afraid he already knew.
Ironwood gave him a look that Richard couldn't quite discern, but it seemed to be based around some form of reluctance. "I was hoping that we could clarify and expand upon our existing Rules of Engagement, as what we have now is not good enough, especially if this conflict continues for the foreseeable future."
Richard wasn't surprised. "I agree, we should formalize our rules of engagement. I assume you have some major concerns that provoked this, maybe those would be a good place to start."
Ironwood quietly nodded. "My greatest concern is the lives of innocent civilians, something I hope that you and your military can empathize with." he stated, the subtle inquiry was not lost on Richard.
"We have standing orders to protect civilian lives. While Atlas may not fall under official UNSC jurisdiction, we have no desire to target noncombatants." Richard answered the challenge, well aware that they had the means to prove their lack of ill-intentions.
"That's reassuring." Ironwood said, his expression unflinching, although his tone did lighten somewhat. "Then I assume you understand that due to the nature of this conflict, it is going to be a considerable challenge to avoid collateral damage."
We were just talking about raiding his Nation's largest shipyard. Richard thought, recognizing the hint of bitter irony. He fought to squish the concern he had that the General had somehow found out about their plans. It was an absolute impossibility, given their advanced cybersecurity and the fact that only Bradford, Lieutenant Clark, Curie, and himself were the only ones aware of the conversation, and yet, he couldn't help but be paranoid regardless.
"We're no strangers to difficult situations, General. Our protocols for minimizing civilian casualties have been constantly improved over centuries." Richard stated, aware that they possessed the dreary paperwork to back up that claim as well.
"I don't doubt that." Ironwood simply replied. "But I also recognize that you're operating on minimal information and that you might inadvertently strike civilian targets, believing them to be your enemies, and that isn't the only risk."
Ah, here it is. Richard thought, anticipating the oncoming scrutiny of their recent operation.
The General paused for a moment before continuing. "I received a report regarding your recent strike on one of the SDC's mining facilities, the startling number of civilian casualties are absolutely unacceptable."
Bradford tensed up, even more than usual. Richard could almost feel the anger emanate from practically everyone on the bridge, and he could put the reasons together in his head effortlessly. It's not like he's sending in his own troops, he'd rather let the aliens die for him.
Richard opened his mouth to respond, only certain that his response would be harsh, but Ironwood softly waved his hand, and Richard decided to let him explain himself. "You did what you could, I know, and from what I've been told your soldiers fought valiantly. But far too many innocents lost their lives, and I will not take any further risks with the lives of Atlesian citizens, I hope you can understand that."
Richard glared at the man. "So, you're going to start deploying your own forces?"
"I've been forced to divert forces from elsewhere to keep Atlas itself safe, I do not have the time or men to deal with Jacques Schnee and his rampant negligence. What I am proposing is to cooperate on the informational front." Ironwood said.
Richard lowered his glare, but he was still far from satisfied with the man's assessment of the conflict. "Our current intelligence is perfectly serviceable."
He knows I'm lying. Richard quickly realized, but did not back down.
"Is it?" Ironwood asked doubtfully, his tone souring somewhat. "Browsing the CCTS and putting some satellites in orbit hardly grants you the same degree of information as the Atlesian Military. I would ask you to give us a little more credit, after all, it is our Kingdom."
Richard fought back the urge to sigh in frustration, he was never born to be a politician. "That's a very good point. Are you planning on offering us a solution?"
"In a manner of speaking." Ironwood vaguely answered, which immediately made Richard nervous. "I was hoping to solve two problems at once, namely, these conversations are taking up a large portion of my schedule, and I have a lot to do already."
So he didn't call us to discuss military protocol, hardly surprising. Still, I don't know if I can blame him, it is certainly a dreary topic. Richard thought. Still, I wonder what he actually wants.
"Then what would you propose?" Richard asked, deciding to take the bait.
"I was hoping you would allow a representative of the Atlesian military to advise your forces... from aboard your starship." Ironwood said, rather bluntly.
Richard's immediate gut reaction was a definitive no, but his discipline kept him from voicing it. He noticed Bradford tense up slightly, and he could almost feel the general attitude of the Bridge slightly sour.
"All I ask, is that you hear me out." Ironwood added, seeing the shift in mood.
"Well, you certainly have my... our full attention." Richard said, deciding that he would subtly inform the General that Richard was not the only one skeptical of letting foreign agents on board.
"Thank you, genuinely, I recognize how this would seem if our situations were reversed." Ironwood said, his tone lightening again. "But I still wish to point out that you are conducting military operations on our soil, and you're doing it with marginal oversight, military or otherwise."
Richard frowned. "We've been doing just fine without your oversight… but I see your point. Still, all of this depends on who you plan on sending."
Ironwood brightened up slightly, evidently, he thought he was making progress, although Richard was still unconvinced. "I did have someone in mind. She is a talented Specialist, a good soldier, an intelligent individual and has my utmost trust... Specialist Winter Schnee."
Once again, Richard stifled his gut reaction. "I trust that "Schnee" is simply a common surname?"
"I'm afraid not, Winter is the daughter of Jacques Schnee, CEO of the Schnee Dust Company." Ironwood said, his voice carrying that same hint of reluctance that Richard had spotted earlier.
Does he actually expect me to accept this "offer"? Richard thought, his patience expended. "General, with all due respect, is this some kind of bad joke?"
"Not quite, Commander." Ironwood said, unflinchingly. "Winter has earned my trust twenty-times over, and halted more tragedies than I care to count. If her loyalty were at all in question, she would not be in our military."
"Her father is complacent in a slavery operation that would embarrass the Eridani Insurrection, forgive me if I'm worried about who you want representing you. Not to mention, you want to send her aboard the Dominion itself." Richard countered, not particularly caring about Ironwood's lack of context.
"People are not responsible for the sins of their fathers. Besides, she no longer has ties to her father, for unrelated... domestic issues." Ironwood said, which did little to stop Richard's concern. "I understand you have reasons to doubt my intentions, but I don't care for Jacques Schnee and his crimes any more than you do. My methods of dealing with him may differ substantially, but ask yourself this, why would I surround myself with people whose loyalties lie with him, and not with Atlas?"
Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer. Richard mentally quoted from his ONI training, although it was obvious that thought wasn't occurring to Ironwood. That same training taught him what to look for in a person's statement, to gauge if they were telling the truth, and while Richard had never had a talent for questioning, he could see that Ironwood genuinely believed his question was valid. He doesn't doubt Winter's loyalties, but this does present a valuable opportunity.
"I'm afraid that this is less of an offer than I am making it sound." The General's voice was stern, cold, and as blunt as could have been expected. Even as his words came across as threatening. "This is not a request, this is a demand from the council itself. The council is unwilling to bend on this matter. If you refuse, then any and all support and military cooperation with the UNSC will be terminated immediately."
The General's words left the room both surprised and concerned. It was a rather bold move from the Council of Atlas. They were threatening somebody they had no hopes of defeating, with something that sounded far too close to an ultimatum for Richard to feel comfortable.
Theoretically, a tactical victory against Atlas was possible, even likely. A single MAC round from orbit would knock Atlas off of its delicate balance and smash it into Mantle, effectively ending the war with a single shot. But the resulting Civilian death toll would be catastrophic, and the resulting Grimm attacks would strain humanity to the breaking point.
But it was a strategic victory that they needed, and with only a single company of ground troops, a prolonged ground campaign was doomed to fail. Richard briefly considered accepting the offer, but that would open the door for the Council to start throwing more demands at them, demands that were far less reasonable than a single military advisor being stationed on the Dominion.
It's almost comparable to hostage-negotiation, only their whole Kingdom is the hostage. Richard grimly thought, well aware that with a single order he could level the Continent the small nation stood upon.
"That's certainly a difficult decision, General." Richard said, unable to keep all of the bitterness out of his words. "Give us a moment to consider this "offer" of yours."
Gillespie paused the feed to Ironwood, leaving them free to speak their minds without fear of repercussions. The General's face vanished, and the bridge chatter resumed, much quieter than normal, however.
"It's an ultimatum, they want their power back." Bradford grumbled. "Are you actually considering this?"
"What choice do we have?" Richard asked, somewhat disturbed. "If we go to war, the only way we would win is with WMDs, and Ironwood damn well knows it."
"He's bluffing, trying to play on your conscience." Bradford stated firmly. "There's no way he would actually risk the lives of everyone in his Nation."
Richard paused, thinking about Bradford's words, but dismissed them. "He may not think he has a choice, and desperation can drive a man to make some extremely questionable decisions."
Bradford remained silent, giving Richard time to think. On paper, he wasn't necessarily against the idea, having someone aboard who knew Atlas's culture and geography would be an invaluable asset. But Ironwood's choice of advisors couldn't be a coincidence, he had to be testing Richard's resolve.
"Maybe a bit of topical research is in order, before we decide our next move." Richard quietly said. "Curie, are you available?"
Her holographic form quickly joined them. "I am, momentarily. I can set aside other projects if you need me to-"
"Get me whatever information you can on "Specialist Winter Schnee"." Richard ordered, already knowing what she was going to say. "I am authorizing the use of electronic intrusion software, regardless of the target."
"Aye, one moment." Curie said, the naval lingo still foreign to her traditional accent.
"Regardless of target?" Bradford asked. "Wouldn't the Atlesian military would have all the information we're looking for? Well, either them or the SDC."
"Maybe, maybe not." Richard replied. "When you're putting together a profile on someone, turn over every stone, and leave nothing unrecorded. The devil is in the details, and all it takes is one critical piece of information to find what you're looking for."
Bradford nodded. "I can understand that, even if it's not my speciality."
"Oh, do you specialize in something besides Command?" Richard asked, somewhat jokingly, knowing they had a moment to kill while they waited for Curie.
"Hydration Equipment Operation." Bradford said, not shifting his tone from it's usual seriousness.
Alright, not what I would have guessed, but fair enough. Richard thought, somewhat amused despite the circumstances.
"Monsieur, my task is complete." Curie said, as a surprisingly small data package appeared on his datapad.
"Thank you, Curie. Did you notice anything predominantly unusual about her military career in your search?" Richard asked, skimming the data himself.
"Only that it was so... textbook." Curie said, evidently not knowing how to voice her observations. "She has a litany of commendations and a track record of combat victories. And I could not find any notable faults in her loyalty, something that I admit doesn't make much sense, given her familial history, although I admit that my expertise on that topic is quite insubstantial."
A bit of sympathy for Curie hit Richard. Yeah, I guess me and Ben are really all she's ever had, and maybe Kurt. I can't help but wonder how he would've handled all this.
"I did find her Semblance rather interesting, although it is not entirely relevant for this topic." Curie concluded.
"And nothing was sanitized, no data-scrubbing?" Bradford asked, his tone offering no small amount of disbelief.
"I found nothing that suggested that." Curie answered, her voice also indicating a tone of suspicion. "Did you need anything else from me?"
"No, I believe that was all, thank you." Richard said, before Curie's hologram vanished. "Give me your thoughts here, Bradford."
He took a deep breath, his expression filled with worry. "I think Ironwood's testing us, and that he's using Winter to do it. He knows we'll question his ultimatum because of who she's related to, and he's using that against us."
"Well, in that case, maybe we oughta take a closer look at Winter herself, get some insight into what he's planning." Richard quietly replied, scrolling through the data package, before stopping at a file that caught his eye. "Here, look at this, it's Specialist Schnee's banking information."
Bradford took the datapad, and quickly frowned as he examined the information. "Isn't her dad the most wealthy person on the planet?"
"That's correct." Richard said, glad that Bradford was catching on.
"So why does she only have the bank account of a rank and file soldier?" Bradford asked, handing the datapad back.
"Because, if you look here, her ties with her father are tumultuous... at best." Richard said, scrolling downwards to Curie's personal notes on that specific topic. He could understand why Curie didn't understand, but Winter may as well have been disowned with how her father thought of her. "Remember how Ironwood mentioned domestic issues?"
"Yeah... damn, that's a lot of scandals." Bradford commented, reading the headlines of a dozen articles of how she had passed up her father's line of succession in order to join the military.
"I think we may have misread him." Richard stated, overwhelmingly surprised at his own words. "Maybe he just wants to help us, even if the Council wants to do something regrettable."
"You think... Ironwood's telling the truth?" Bradford asked, his tone implying that he couldn't believe what Richard was saying. "If he's full of it-"
"Well it's either that, or he's a damn good liar." Richard interrupted. "Either way, I'm not sure we can truly afford to say no. Our public perception right now is rather low and if the Atlesian Council comes out against us..."
"We're never going to win these people over, and we'll never beat the Grimm, or the SDC." Bradford finished, now seemingly more accepting of Richard's thought process.
Richard sighed, before turning back towards the Operations station. "Ensign, resume the feed."
He did as he was commanded, and soon, Ironwood's steely expression once again found itself on one of the bridge monitors.
"General, I have made my decision." Richard said. "We will receive your advisor, and do our best to cooperate with them. While I certainly have my reservations about this, I hope that this can serve as a way to start building bridges between our... organizations."
Nation didn't sound right, not when we have a smaller population than a passenger liner. Richard thought, recognizing the difficulty he had experienced in selecting his words.
"I'm glad to hear that." Ironwood said, his expression shifting to one of relief.
"There will be some limitations, of course." Richard quickly added, not willing to completely bend the knee. "Certain areas of the ship are extremely sensitive, and will be strictly off-limits, namely Weapons and Engineering. I hope you can understand that I wouldn't let any foreign agent or citizen in these areas, as the damage they could potentially cause would be catastrophic."
"That is completely understandable." Ironwood said with a nod. "I'll send word along, and I'll give her access to your contact information, you can speak with her yourself."
"Good, we'll hash out the details of this assignment with her personally." Richard said. "Was that all, General?"
"That was all for now." Ironwood said, his tone still noticeably less intense, although it was still far from friendly. The feed ended, and the General vanished.
Bradford turned to look at him. "Well Sir, this is either going to turn out very well... or get us all killed."
Richard nodded, he'd thought of that. "We'll have contingencies in place, in case the worst happens. Get me two members of Fireteam Onyx, and issue them plasma rifles, they'll be acting as Miss Schnee's' guides around the ship, and as our first line of defense should the worst happen."
"Covenant weapons?" Bradford asked, although he began to carry out the order regardless.
"Curie has a working theory, that plasma might be the key to how we even the odds against Aura." Richard explained. "But we don't know for sure, of course. I'd rather not test the theory, we don't have a lot, but we both know what plasma can do to a person."
There was a distinct hint of disgust in the back of his mind. He didn't enjoy the possibility of using Plasma weapons against their own kind, but he reassured himself that it was just a precaution. As long as General Ironwood or Specialist Schnee weren't planning anything nefarious, everything would turn out just fine.
The Dominion
October 7th, 1203 Menagerie time, 2552 UNSC military Calendar
Fairfire walked down one of the many titanium corridors that lined the Dominion, carrying with her a crate loaded with what would probably be considered top-tier contraband by the admiralty.
Well, if they want it, they can damn well come and get it. Fairfire thought with a devilish grin. I guess that's one upside to all this shit, is we can use the Covie stuff for a change.
She reached the room she was looking for, a somewhat large barracks intended to hold a platoon-strength unit of Marines. Her understrength squad didn't even fill a quarter of the beds, but there weren't any other Marine units that took priority over them, and likely never would be. Yu and Meadows were present, disinterestedly playing some sort of card game on one of the tables. There was also one of the helljumpers she hadn't known that well, Private Kowalski, who was sleeping.
I know Clark wants to keep the comm-relay safe, but I'd appreciate it if he used his own damn leathernecks. Fairfire thought, dumping the crate unceremoniously before the two conscious ODSTs, Kowalski's only reaction to the noise was a snore.
"Howdy." Fairfire greeted, placing her hand on her hips as her squadmates looked up at her.
"Hey Liz, what's the good news?" Yu asked, eyeing the munitions-grade storage crate.
"New kit, for a very special mission." Fairfire answered, making sure to pronounce "special" as disingenuously as possible.
"Oh boy." Meadows said, rolling his eyes. "Tell me, which organ am I gonna need replaced this time?"
"If I had to guess, anything above here." Fairfire said, drawing a line across her neck with a finger, before opening the biometric lock on the crate.
Yu opened it, admiring the contents as she gave a menacing cackle. "Hot damn, and we get to keep these?"
"All yours, for now. The Commander says you'll need to keep them on your person at all times, and leave them in here while you're sleeping. Don't go blasting them off at the range either, we still can't recharge this crap." Fairfire answered, relaying some of the basic instructions she had been given as well.
I wonder if the Commander would let me try out one of those gravity hammers... Fairfire thought, before getting her mind back on track.
"If I ever get married, that man better propose to me with one of these." Yu joked, drawing one of the Covenant plasma rifles and admiring the alien inscriptions.
Meadows appeared far more skeptical about the new equipment, although he also retrieved and cradled his new weapon. "Somehow, I get the feeling that we're getting these for a reason."
Fairfire smiled, his perception was still sharp. "That's correct Sergeant, Yu and yourself are bodyguard duty for a very important individual."
"Babysitting?!" Yu demanded, suddenly disappointed. "Who?!"
"A representative of the Atlesian military, she's also the daughter of the head Dickhead on Remnant." Fairfire said, her disingenuous smile the only thing masking her own grand displeasure.
"Hold on just a minute." Yu responded, her voice a bit strained. "You're telling me, that we're letting one of those damned crooks onto the Dominion?"
"I don't think so, this has to be planetside, right?" Meadows guessed, although Fairfire could tell that he was just being hopeful.
Fairfire gave a short, unhappy nod. "I'm afraid not, and it ain't so simple. Apparently she ain't with the SDC..."
"Like hell she isn't!" Yu protested, gesturing wildly. "Who the hell knows where her fucking-"
"Corporal, that's enough." Fairfire calmly interrupted, although her voice carried more weight than even when she yelled. "I am well aware of the obvious fucking problems with this assignment, and I have my own personal reservations as well. But this isn't our call, orders are orders, and we're gonna follow em', got it?"
Meadows gave a reluctant groan, but fell in line. Fairfire could tell Yu briefly considered blatant insubordination, and wasn't entirely certain what the hotheaded ODST would do, but she also backed down.
It's when they blindly follow dodgy orders, that's when you worry about their loyalty. Fairfire thought. "Thank you, Corporal. Now, the Commander has considered the possibility that our incoming visitor, one Specialist Winter Schnee, is a hostile infiltrator."
Yu's eyes flickered with realization, and a hint of satisfaction. "I see, we're not bodyguards, we're watchdogs."
Fairfire nodded. "In a manner of speaking. If she reaches for the nukes or takes out a crewman, you put her down, hard."
"I think we're doing a bit of both, bodyguard and watchdog." Meadows commented, pulling another odd piece of Covenant equipment out of the box. "Woah, jackal gauntlets?"
"That's right, we only have four, and you get two of them." Fairfire said, watching as he ran a brief diagnostic on the shield gauntlet. "That being said, on the off chance that she's not with the enemy-"
"Play nice, got it." Yu finished, somewhat snappily.
Fairfire realized quickly that she hadn't received the message, and snatched the plasma rifle out of her hands, regaining her full attention. "Hey, look at me. You have a job to do, you guard this lady, and you keep your eyes peeled for any suspicious activity, that's when you start shooting, are we clear?"
"Yes Sir." Yu said, and Fairfire trusted that she had received the message.
"Play this safe, I don't know what I'd do without you morons." Fairfire stated. "Oh, and try to avoid starting another international crisis."
Meadows gave a shrug. "Given some of the other crap on Remnant we've seen, I fail to see how bad this can go."
Atlas
Alliman Surface Excavation, Site 1 "Point Hindenburg"
October 7th, 1800 Atlas time, 2552 UNSC military Calendar
"So that's why they call it "Surface excavation"." Ben muttered to himself, examining his target with the help of his helmet's visual magnification system.
"There are five different sites with the same label, I do not understand the purpose." Curie replied. "Point Hindenburg is one of two that actually conduct surface mining."
"Maybe it's the name of the local region, or some form of political maneuvering." Ben offered, although he was far from certain. "I don't suppose it matters that much, it'll be a crater when we're done."
"But, it is a crater." Curie pointed out rather sassily.
"It'll be a bigger, less organized, crater then." Ben replied, although he was also somewhat humored.
The mine in question was more than four kilometers away, with Ben lying prone on a nearby hill, performing reconnaissance for an orbital strike. The other two Marines stayed with the arctic warthog that they arrived in, that way they could perform a rapid escape. It's defenses were notably weaker than Point Wilhelm, with only a little over a dozen guards, as well as a notable lack of slaves. The guards had deployed some sort of large, static cannon on top of one of the buildings, probably a defense against larger Grimm types.
Just like we hoped, no civilians, maybe we can go home early. Ben thought, giving a quiet smirk. "Curie, are you seeing any Civies down there?"
"I do not, it would appear that the intelligence we recovered from Point Wilhelm is accurate." Curie confirmed. "Shall I establish communication with the Dominion?"
"Negative, let me figure out where we're targeting first." Ben replied. "I know the rest of you is overstretched already, and a firing solution like that would take some time, and I'd rather not be here when the Grimm show up."
"That is very good thinking." Curie acknowledged.
Ben took a more broad-scale look at the mine, and noted it's rather steep incline, as well as a small group of concrete and metal structures clustered away from the mine itself. His view deeper into the pit itself was limited from his position, but the spy drone flying overhead offered a far better perspective, revealing both the lack of slaves and a large amount of exposed Dust Crystals.
"Curie, how volatile is Dust in that state?" Ben asked.
"Rather potently, in its crystalline state, it is similar in composition to quartz, although it's explosive potential varies drastically." Curie answered. "Almost all of my information on the material is sourced from Remnant's publicly available information, so it's accuracy is debatable."
Ben frowned slightly, this might make things more difficult. "What model warheads do we plan on using?"
"The delivery vehicle will be an old M30 Trebuchet Orbital Support Missile, loaded with a hybrid composition warhead." Curie stated. "Were the strike to be conducted on open ground in test conditions, the resulting blast would have a force equal to around a kiloton of TNT."
A bit light, by orbital weaponry's standards. Ben thought, although that didn't solve the problem. "What are the chances that we would start a chain-reaction if the blast impacted the dust?"
"Almost certain." Curie confirmed, now seeing the problem. "If we were to do that, we would not be able to recover any of the Dust, or any further intelligence."
And that would violate our standing orders to collect both of those things. Ben thought. "Let's call it in, get some instructions. Can you patch us through?"
"Affirmative, although there will be some delay in transmission, there is some sort of anomaly affecting our systems." Curie confirmed, routing a signal from Ben's helmet to the warthog, which would be able to establish a secure connection to the Dominion. "Signal is established, go ahead."
"Dominion, this is Onyx, do you read?" Ben said.
The response took almost ten seconds, but Lieutenant Commander Bradford's voice came through, somewhat distorted. "Onyx this is Dominion, barely. What's the situation?"
"We've completed our reconnaissance, no civilians are present, but the Dust in the mine would possibly be destroyed by an orbital strike, and any enemy intelligence along with it." Ben relayed. "Please advise."
The response took slightly longer, before Bradford spoke again. "Onyx, what's the disposition of enemy forces?"
"Approximately a dozen foot mobiles, no Specialists. At least one static artillery emplacement, as well as some light vehicles, which seem to be unarmed." Ben reported, visually double checking his report, which all seemed to check out.
"Wait one." Bradford said, before speaking again several seconds later. "Dominion copies all, we're working on a solution now. Rendezvous with your team and await further instruction, out."
Simple orders are good orders. Ben thought, before getting back onto his feet and beginning the short trek back to the arctic warthog.
When he returned, he found the two Marines he'd be placed in Command of fiddling with the radio, one in each of the two front seats. The warthog was parked in a small indent in the snow, big enough to easily hide the vehicle and it's crew from any passing patrols, while also providing feasible escape.
"Is there some kind of problem?" Ben asked, his tone implying that he was going to be very unhappy if they were just toying with it.
"We lost signal to the Dominion!" The driver shouted. "Helmet comms are out too!"
"Are we being jammed?" The navigator asked. "They shouldn't know we're here."
A pinch of frustration suddenly gripped Ben's forehead like a vice. "Yes, they shouldn't. Curie, what can you tell us?"
"I am analyzing the equipment, both in the vehicle as well as your helmets, it seems that something similar to electronic jamming is happening to us, although it's... different." Curie answered, using the helmet's speakers to brief the Marines as well. "It's as if the antenna is transmitting, but no radio waves emerge."
"What about the motion tracker?" Ben asked, noticing how it wasn't picking up the Warthog right in front of him, or the Marines.
"Also neutralized, how peculiar." Curie said. "Perhaps this is one of the regional anomalies I have been studying-"
"Sergeant, behind you!" The Marine in the driver's seat shouted in a frenzied panic, interrupting Curie as she struggled to draw her sidearm. Her partner in the navigator seat quickly followed suit.
Ben turned around, and saw the heavily armored head of some kind of lizard-like Grimm poking its head over the edge of the snow, quietly watching them, although it was aware that it had been noticed, as it emitted a deep hiss at him. He grabbed the MA5B assault rifle off of his back in one well practiced movement, before firing off a long burst of gunfire towards its face. The Marines contributed with their magnums, but most of their shots went wild, likely due to their panic, although one of the large rounds managed to make the creature flinch.
The Grimm's bone armor held strong as it placed a foot, lined with raptor talons, into the edge of the snowbank, getting a better stance. It used its newfound leverage to launch itself at Ben, it's mouth open wide, revealing row after row of razor-sharp teeth. Time slowed down as the adrenaline kicked in, triggering Spartan Time, which gave him the reflexes needed to roll out of the way, stopping just out of the beast's path.
The Grimm snapped it's jaws shut right where he had been standing, and thanks to its momentum, slammed into the side of the warthog with enough force to knock it on its right side. It seemed the Driver had been smart enough to slam the door in its face, preventing her from being devoured.
Ben examined the beast as it brought itself about to face him. It resembled some sort of armored quadruped lizard, that was around the same size as the vehicle it had knocked over. It's tail was heavily armored by overlapping bony scales, capped with some sort of spiky club-like tip. It almost resembled a wingless dragon, but it's head was an indecipherable mess of bone, strange red lining, and around a dozen yellow, hatred-filled eyes, positioned to cover many different angles.
Ben fired off the rest of his magazine, but the bullets failed to penetrate the beast's skull, leaving Ben vulnerable as it prepared for another lunge. He ejected the empty magazine, but realized he would not be able to load a fresh one in time.
"Ben, dodge left, load Shredder Rounds!" Curie quickly instructed.
Ben complied, leaping to the side, before being struck mid-air by the Grimm's tail. He was knocked off of his course by the unexpected attack, and suffered a small amount of damage to his shields. He also landed rougher than intended, while the Grimm was able to perform a far more graceful landing.
That thing's far nimbler than it's armor suggests! Ben bitterly thought, getting back to his feet. As the Grimm prepared to deliver another strike, a blast of buckshot peppered it's scaly flank, and it gave a displeased hiss in response.
"Come get some!" The navigator Marine shouted from behind Ben, diverting the Grimm's attention long enough for him to get to his feet and reload the desired ammunition.
"Target the base of the tail!" Curie practically shouted, her calm demeanor gone, and Ben could see why. If he wasn't quick, the Grimm would strike the Marines and not him, and they could not survive a hit like that.
He adjusted his aim, and realized Curie had noticed something that he hadn't. In order to allow its tail to move more freely, the base of the Grimm's tail was poorly armored, offering a valuable target that could only be struck from it's flank. Ben let loose a long burst, watching as the ammo counter on his gun rapidly declined. The Grimm let out a hateful screech as its tail was savagely torn from its body, before it rapidly burned up into a foul black smoke. It quickly recovered, readying another strike, returning its focus to Ben.
"Dodge this, I need more time!" Curie instructed.
"Negative, I've got him." Ben replied calmly, holding his rifle in his right hand and priming a grenade with the other. With the Grimm's tail neutralized, it only had two offensive weapons left, it's teeth and claws.
As the Grimm lunged, it opened its mouth again, hoping to catch Ben in a fatal bite. Ben took the opportunity to hip fire another burst into it's open mouth, knocking loose dozens of its teeth as he lobbed the grenade into its gaping maw. As he had hoped, the Grimm shut its mouth shut mere moments after the grenade entered, a delayed reaction from when he had blown it's teeth out.
The only flaw with his plan is that he was still in the way when the beast slammed into him, sending him flying. He managed to land on his feet, but his shields were decimated. Rather conveniently, Ben had been knocked clear of the kill radius of the grenade, so when it exploded, the only casualty was the Grimm.
"That was... certainly creative." Curie commented as Ben got back up to his feet.
"Hey, Sierra, can we get a hand?" The Navigator asked, still leaning against the tipped over warthog. After retrieving the Driver from the vehicle, Ben flipped it back over and inspected it to make sure it still functioned.
"Jesus Christ Sergeant." The Driver commented, kicking over some of the shrapnel-riddled snow where the Grimm had once stood. "Remind me never to play poker with you, you just stared that thing down like it was nothing."
"I'm not a gambling man." Ben replied, before noticing that the Marine had subconsciously used her helmet radio. "Wait, are our comms back online?"
"Seems like it." The Navigator said, using his own radio to transmit the words. "Maybe the Grimm was blocking us?"
"...Fascinating!" Curie commented. "A Grimm that can manipulate radio waves!"
"That's a bad thing, Curie." The Navigator pointed out, a sentiment Ben quietly agreed with.
"I agree, but think of what we can learn from this!" Curie enthusiastically replied. "We could even manipulate this to our own advantage-"
"It can wait, we need to get back into contact with the Dominion." Ben interrupted, knowing Curie would talk about their discovery all day if she got the chance.
"Actually, they've been trying to contact you, I'll patch them through." Curie replied.
"-repeat, if you can read me, respond immediately!" A notably agitated Bradford said over the radio.
"Dominion, this is Onyx, solid copy. We encountered a Grimm that interfered with our radio signals, we managed to kill it but it was noisy, our cover is likely blown." Ben reported, keeping his message quick and informative.
Bradford's response was almost immediate. "Understood Onyx. Interrogative, what's your status?"
"Green." Ben simply replied.
"Understood Onyx, your new orders are to link up with Echo team and assault the mine, take any prisoners you can, but don't take any chances." Bradford instructed.
Ben nodded, mostly to himself. With the other warthog from the other recon team, they would be able to outmatch the defending garrison, even while outnumbered. "Onyx copies all, we'll get it done."
"Make sure of it, Dominion out." Bradford concluded, cutting the connection.
"What now Sergeant?" The driver asked, as she performed a quick inspection of her own weapon.
"We're linking up with team two, and then we're going to knock that mine out." Ben replied, taking his position on the gunner's seat. "Saddle up, we're Oscar Mike."