Point Guderian, AKA Selfoss Strip Mine
October 9th, 0732 Atlas Time, 2552
It seemed that the rest of Onyx Team had been quite busy. Ben marched his prisoners past at least a dozen corpses on the way to the rendezvous. Not all of them were killed by bullets, as it seemed that the Grimm had also mangled their way through a fair number of them. The rest of the enemy's defenses were in a similar state of ruin, with most of the robots clearly being disabled without even having switched on. Had they been active, it wasn't much of a stretch to think that the battle would have been considerably bloodier, especially as the enemy might have been able to stabilize a frontline.
"I see that my viruses worked well." Curie commented. "Although, it seems a great deal of the drones failed to self-destruct."
"There will be plenty of time for a post-mission analysis, Curie." Ben pointed out, deliberately not speaking into his microphone. "Let's try to stay focused."
"You make an excellent point." Curie replied.
The rest of Onyx Team had taken control of one of the bunkers, which had been utterly ravaged by the battle. There was a giant gap in the wall and the ceiling where Meadows had landed. Bullet holes and the scorch marks of lasers dotted the out surface of the structure.
"Good work Sergeant." Fairfire noted as she walked over to double-check their bindings. "By my count, this is four more prisoners than we took."
"I'm pretty sure you drove them into me, they were recovering from something." Ben offered, examining the carnage around him. "Decent bit of resistance, huh?"
"Yeah, more human defenders than we were expecting, but less Grimm." Jorge noted. "On that note, don't get too comfortable, the Grimm are still coming. Looks like they've formed up into a bigger group, maybe they have some intelligence after all."
"Can we see them from here?" Ben asked, before Jorge led him around to the side of the bunker that faced outwards. "Ah, nevermind."
The Grimm were around a kilometer away, but Curie magnified his vision so that he could see the enemy in better detail. Dozens of smaller Grimm had assembled around a single, larger kind, as if it was commanding them to concentrate around it. The largest Grimm resembled some demented malformity of a woolly mammoth, with gigantic tusks that would almost certainly deliver a devastating blow.
"How are we on rockets?" Jorge asked, turning back to Yu.
"Two left, the spares Kilo was carrying got ripped apart... along with him." Yu commented, shifting the launcher that she had slung over her shoulder with obvious discomfort. "But even the SPNKR is going to have trouble with that thing, it's built like a Scarab. Maybe if I can hit the joints or the neck, but that's a stretch with how much it's moving."
"Yeah, the Sparrowhawks were supposed to cover us, but they're getting caught up with some unexpected air contacts. More mercenaries, by the sounds of it." Jorge added. "But that doesn't matter, we need to find a way to kill that thing, without air support."
"Give me a moment, I will survey our surroundings for additional options." Curie interjected. A few seconds later, she posted a camera-feed onto Ben's HUD, displaying some kind of large laser turret. "There, Laser Battery Two is fixable, if you can get me there, I can see about bringing it back online. It should have the firepower to kill the Megoliath."
"Ben, go handle that, we'll move up to the Barracks Complex, try to find some better cover." Jorge ordered. "Meadows, go along with him."
"Yes Sir!" Meadows sounded off, standing up from the firing position he was in and jogging over.
"We'll get it done." Ben added.
They took a path that took them throughout the defensive line as they made their way to the turret. Even though most of the immediate threats on the surface had been eliminated, they were still in a very dangerous environment, and caution wasn't optional. The ruined trenches and bunkers offered meaningful cover in an otherwise very exposed position.
"Curie, how did you kill the turret?" Meadows asked, seemingly prompted by spotting another one of the disabled guns. This one was quite clearly out of order, as evidenced by the steady stream of flames emanating from its control suite.
"Battery Two was eliminated by a total software purge, one of the roaming Viruses I deployed. In order to bring it online, we'll need to reset the power and operate the gun manually." Curie answered. "Unfortunately, it seems that the rotation mechanism was reliant on that software, so the barrel will have to be adjusted manually."
"Wait, like, one of those things?" Meadows asked doubtfully, pointing to the flaming turret. "Those things gotta weigh at least a few tonnes! How the hell-"
"There is an analog backup system to rotate the turret." Curie answered before he could finish. "One of you will fire the weapon while the other operates the mechanism."
"I can handle that. Meadows, you'll take the shot." Ben offered.
"Fine by me." Meadows replied.
They only encountered a handful of isolated, smaller Grimm along the way. A quick burst of gunfire seemed capable of eliminating most of them, but some of them, such as the Boarbatusks, seemed more resilient, even to headshots.
"Curie, where's the vital organs in those things?" Ben asked, after expending more ammo than he would have liked on one of the offending creatures.
"The Boarbatusk's brain is located just below the throat, aim there." Curie advised.
"How's that for a choking hazard?" Meadows taunted as he put a three-round burst through the final creatures, exploiting the weak point. "Right, sorry, that was terrible."
"Crack all the jokes you want, just keep moving, and keep your focus on the mission." Ben replied.
I'd rather have a jokester who can aim watching my back than a professional soldier who can't. Ben thought.
UNSC Dominion, Bridge
October 9th, 0737 Atlas Time, 2552
It turned out that running away was an instinct built into Grimm. Even with what Winter had described as a cataclysmically large swarm, they quickly learned that the Dominion was off-limits, and the stragglers were effortlessly picked apart. However, as the ship circled high above its target, more obstacles were presenting themselves.
"New contacts on Long-Range Radar! Twelve Bogies, constant bearing, decreasing range!" Lieutenant Chen called out. "They're flying formation, they've got to be human."
Richard looked to the holotable. A dozen neutral-tagged contracts were now approaching the Dominion's starboard side at a respectable pace. With the Grimm cleared away, there was nothing in their way except the Dominion's own Combat Air Patrol.
"We'll need a visual, can't just go blindly shooting them." Richard said. "Lieutenant Gage, do any of our Clarions have a view on those bogies?"
"Momentarily Sir, Clarion Two, patching the feed over to you now." Gage replied, fear no longer evident in his voice.
I would be surprised if his confidence recovered after only a single battle with the Grimm, maybe he's just gotten better at hiding his doubts? Chen's looking a bit better too, maybe they just needed a job they can feasibly accomplish. Richard thought, momentarily becoming distracted by his concerns, before shaking his head back into the present.
"Lieutenant Chen, sharpen up that Radar signature if you can, and see if we can read their IFFs." Richard ordered, but most of his attention was focused on the video feed now playing on one of the displays built into the holotable.
"I've adjusted the Drone's course, you should have a visual momentarily." Gage interjected.
The Clarion Spy Drone was designed with Space Combat in mind, but it still performed capably within the atmosphere of most planets. It's camera systems proved valuable for effectively any engagement, and could offer a direct visual feed whenever the host ship's cameras could not.
Richard had intentionally kept the Dominion in Atlas's cloud cover, well aware of the faults of Atlesian Radar systems at such ranges, which made her own camera systems somewhat useless. The video feed the Spy Drone offered confirmed that the attackers were indeed human aircraft, around the size of a strike fighter.
Well, let's see who you belong to. Richard thought. "Specialist Schnee, may I have your eyes for a moment?"
Winter obliged, taking a look at the video feed herself. "These are our incoming targets, do you recognize them?"
She answered immediately. "Gunships, Atlesian make and model, probably under Military control, although the SDC having some isn't necessarily out of the question. This model is armed with guided missiles, capable of targeting both air and ground targets."
Richard immediately turned to Ensign Gillespie. "Ensign, open a channel to them."
After only a scant few seconds, Gillespie shook his head. "They aren't responding, Sir."
They're flying into a live combat scenario, we already know who they belong to, shoot them down. Richard's gut seemed to tell him, but he ignored it. "Lieutenant Chen, what do the IFFs read?"
"Schnee Dust Company... Freighters, that's probably a translation bug." She answered.
"It almost certainly is, the Schnee Dust Company operates its own fleet of dedicated freighters, and these certainly aren't them." Winter added.
"Hostile Combatants then. Order Voodoo Lead to intercept and destroy." Richard ordered, which Gillespie quickly relayed.
"Voodoo copies all, moving to intercept." The Squad Leader reported, before Richard placed the radio back into the table. The four contacts broke off their patrol around the Dominion and formed up to intercept.
"Four fighters against a dozen?" Winter asked doubtfully.
"The Sabres are the best we have, even back home. And those four out there are specifically equipped for dogfighting, so they're certainly well prepared." Bradford explained. "I once watched a single Sabre pilot tear apart an entire squadron of Innie fighters without breaking a sweat... that was the first time I ever worked with a Spartan actually, now that I think about it."
"Stay focused Lieutenant. I need a report from Clark's team, and an update of what we need to be shooting at one the ground. We're hovering up here for a reason, after all." Richard stated, to which Bradford gave a brief nod and picked up one of the radios. "Ensign Williams, increase our passive burn to thirty-four percent, we may need the speed."
"Aye Sir." The helmsman reported.
There was a lot to focus on, but Richard was confident he had addressed all of it, leaving him free to observe the upcoming fighter engagement.
We haven't gotten a recent report from Onyx Team, but I'm not terribly worried about them. Richard thought, well aware of the impact that two Spartans would have on any engagement.
"What in the world are they doing?" Winter asked, noting how the Sabres seemed to deliberately be flying around the targets.
"They're trying to get behind them, down here in the atmosphere, that's very important. In space, you can turn on a dime, but the playing fields are a bit different down here." Richard answered, before pointing to one of the indicators that was next to the enemy contacts. "And this marker means that the Sabres are using Electronic Countermeasures to confuse the enemy Radar, I'm sure Lieutenant Keegan has thought this through."
"Is he the flight leader?" Winter asked.
"She is, yes." Richard subtly corrected, noting that the Sabres were now coming about and returning to formation, now behind the enemy bombers. "And now, moment of truth."
In unison, the Sabre's launched missiles. It seemed that Keegan had planned the spread well, as every single target had been locked onto by at least one of the Medusa missiles. The enemy were caught totally off guard, and their squad leader must've ordered them to scatter, as their formation was rapidly abandoned.
Richard's earpiece quickly buzzed shortly after the first missile made contact, likely a comms malfunction. Considering that the target didn't vanish, it wasn't hard to guess who was contacting him, and what had happened. "Your signal is garbled, purge comms and repeat."
The follow up was immediate. "Voodoo One to Dominion Actual. Targets are energy shielded, please advise." Keegan stated, not a hint of panic in her voice.
Energy shields, figures, they use shields for everything. Richard thought, deeply annoyed. "Switch to your cannons and erode the shields, it shouldn't be any different than a Seraph, out."
"I take it that a Seraph is a... Covenant fighter?" Winter asked.
"Covenant fighters are typically better than ours, and they also employ energy shields. Thankfully, so do the Sabres." Richard explained. "The Sabre is designed expressly to strip away a fighter's shields with its autocannons, before using the missiles to deliver a knockout punch."
Winter nodded. "They'll need to close the range with the enemy in order to do that."
"The Sabre might not have been designed to fly in atmosphere all that well, but don't underestimate the pilots." Richard said, noting how the first two enemy contacts had disappeared before they had even gotten to fire a shot, with one of the enemies returning volleys of missiles failing to penetrate the Sabre's shields.
Point Guderian, AKA Selfoss Strip Mine
October 9th, 0738 Atlas Time, 2552
The defensive laser cannon wasn't too structurally dissimilar from an old flak gun, like those employed in the first global conflicts on Earth. The only major difference was that this weapon fired a directed energy beam, not artillery shells. The weapon was mounted on a large concrete base, which itself was reinforced by the same metal bracings that apparently made up the construction style of many Atlesian structures.
Impractical, but certainly impressive. Ben thought as he looked over the cannon, hearing Meadows give a low whistle.
"Looks much better when it's not torched, doesn't it?" Meadows asked.
"It does have a certain elegance to its appearance, let's see if it works as good as it looks." Ben replied, pulling himself onto the gun platform and walking over to the control seat.
"The Terminal, hold your hand over it." Curie requested, to which Ben obliged.
A steady stream of data passed between the terminal and his gauntlet, before suddenly stopping as the data retreated back into his hand. "No good?"
"I appear to have been a bit overzealous with the viruses, I have completely destroyed the operating system." Curie explained, somewhat embarrassed. "We don't have time to find a workaround, we'll fire the gun manually."
"How do we do that?" Ben asked.
"Head down to ground level, and pull open the maintenance panel." Curie instructed.
Ben obliged, and was joined by Meadows back on the ground level. The maintenance panel was actually just a sheet of metal that was bolted onto a hole in the turret's base, which Ben tore off with the assistance of a conveniently located pry bar.
"Did you actually need that thing?" Meadows asked as Ben climbed in and turned on his helmet lights, revealing the Atlesian circuitry and electronics.
"Probably not, but it's certainly useful." Ben replied, tossing the tool aside. "Now, unless you're secretly an electrician, pull security. If some merc throws a grenade in here, it's bad news for us."
For a veteran helljumper, he seems to have lost some of his instincts. Ben noted, inadvertently recognizing some of the faults of his teammate.
"Wilco." Meadows replied, thankfully recognizing the logic in his words. Ben returned his attention to his own duties.
"Curie, I'm a bit out of my element here." Ben stated, somewhat intimidated by the massive pile of electronics.
Is all of this really easier to put together than a flak gun? He thought, noting the complexity of the systems. A conventional gun would have maybe half the parts of this thing, hopefully the firepower's worth it.
"I'm marking the auxiliary battery, turn that on, and then flip the circuit breaker. That should bring the power online." Curie instructed.
Ben did as she instructed, requiring some extra assistance to work the vaguely familiar components. Everything that the Atlesians built seemed to have been designed with perhaps a bit too much attention given to aesthetics, which made it hard to recognize things that would otherwise have been fairly universal in appearance.
"We should be fully operational." Curie noted once he was done. "We'll only have a few shots however, so we'll need to make them count."
"Understood." Ben replied as he climbed out of the gun's internal mechanisms. "Meadows, head up and man the console, I'll get us adjusted."
Meadows took his position while Ben moved to the lever system that manually rotated the gun, it would be slow, but certainly better than manually pushing the barrel into position. Ben could see the Megoliath was much closer now, and it showed no signs of stopping. The rest of the Grimm around it charged forward, and were met by the rest of Onyx Team unleashing a hail of gunfire onto them from the Barracks Complex.
"Curie, the control console isn't turning on." Meadows urgently said. "And that Mammoth is getting closer!"
"You only need the trigger, and it's reading functional." Curie replied. "Ben, use your rangefinder on the Mammoth."
Ben complied. "Target reads one-eighty-two meters out."
"Adjust azimuth negative forty degrees, elevation by negative ten." Curie instructed. Ben quickly went to work manipulating the gun's mechanism, before Curie ordered him to stop. "Sergeant, fire on my mark."
"Wilco!" Meadows replied, notably more urgently. It seemed that the Mammoth had spotted them now, and decided that the makeshift artillery crew posed a greater threat to its existence. "I think it knows what we're planning!"
"Focus!" Ben snapped. "On your mark, Curie."
There was a moment of immense tension as the giant beast charged them, alleviated only when Curie spoke. "Mark."
The barrel of the gun shifted slightly, before a bright red beam of light emerged from the bore. The beam carved straight through both of the Mammoth's left-side legs, causing it to stumble to the ground as the beam dissipated.
Huh, so this one's a beam laser, not a pulse laser? Ben thought, somewhat confused by the inconsistency of Atlas's weapon systems.
"He's still kicking!" Meadows called out. The Mammoth was still inching towards them, although its body was poorly equipped to crawl.
"Ben, adjust azimuth negative four degrees, elevation by negative twelve." Curie instructed, which he obeyed.
"Done." Ben announced.
"Fire!" She commanded, which Meadows obeyed.
This time, their shot flew into the Grimm's nose, and burned its way through enough of the Grimm's body to kill it. It seemed that it was dissipating a bit faster than the other, smaller Grimm, either way, it was dead.
"Excellent work gentlemen." Curie noted with a hint of pride. "I appreciate your faith in my mathematical capabilities."
"And I appreciate you being here to lend us them." Ben replied. "Any new orders?"
"Not yet... wait, incoming transmission." Curie interrupted herself, before Jorge's voice overtook hers.
"Ben, Meadows, regroup at the Barracks. We're wrapping up the last of the Grimm now, and then we're going into the mine itself, that should be where the objective is." He instructed.
"Wilco, shouldn't take us too long." Ben replied, before Jorge cut the transmission.
Meadows turned to face the Barracks Complex, where a large amount of gunfire was still emanating. "That sounds a lot more intense than 'wrapping up'."
"Well, maybe there's some unexpected issue." Ben said, returning his Assault Rifle to his hands. "Let's go see if we can assist."
Selfoss Strip Mine
October 9th, 0742 Atlas Time, 2552
Escaping from the armored alien was easier than he had expected, although the abundance of gunfire that he had heard as he fled all but confirmed that the soldiers he had left behind had suffered a bitter fate. He'd retreated into the mines not thinking clearly, more out of an animalistic desire to escape than with any strategic mindset.
I wonder if they were in on all of this slaving horseshit, or if they were like me, just... mislead. Garrett thought, well aware that he was not in the best mental state at the moment. Veteran Huntsman, my ass. I'm nothing but a coward, and a crook.
He hadn't found anyone else while he was underground, although the mine was so large, it was unlikely that he was alone. Any slaves would be held behind the secondary security measures, and any surviving staff would be near the subterranean office complex.
I wonder if anyone else made it out? They'd regroup at the offices, surely- Garrett thought, before being thrown out of his thoughts by the echoing sound of a large-scale energy weapon being fired.
Fortunately for him, it was coming from the surface, and presently not a threat to him. He remained far from defenceless, most of his Aura had recovered, and he still had his rifle. Still, a long-barreled sniper rifle in such close quarters wouldn't be very useful.
"Sir!" A voice ahead of him shouted. A single soldier stood watch over the door to the offices, but upon spotting Garrett, he rushed forward and gave a salute. "Are you alright? What the hell's going on up there?!"
"I'm fine, and in case you haven't noticed, the aliens are attacking." Garrett wearily replied, before noticing that the soldier was only a private, and a young one at that. "...What's your name, Private?"
"Private Weber, Sir!" he responded, somewhat shakily.
Garrett narrowed his eyes, he sounded somewhat different from all of the other recruits. "When did you get shipped out here Weber?"
"Um... yesterday... Sir." Weber awkwardly replied. "But I'm ready to fight!"
Is this really how this kid is going to die, fighting for a bunch of corporate bastards in a hole in the ground... Garrett bleakly thought. Is this how I'm going to die?
He took a seat on the ground, and rested his back against the wall, closing his eyes in a vain effort just to forget everything that had happened.
"Sir?" Weber asked, obviously concerned.
"I'm good, don't you worry about me." Garrett lied.
"...what should we do?" Weber asked, nervously fiddling with his rifle.
Fuck, good question. Garrett thought. "Didn't think that far ahead, give me a moment."
Most of his men were dead, a hostile alien force of unknown size had literally fallen out of the sky, and a horde of Grimm were only making things worse. His employers were a bunch of slave-driving monsters, and his odds of survival looked very slim.
"Hell of a morning, huh?" Garrett casually asked.
"Heh, guess so." Weber replied, but the situation was still weighing on him. "Did we even get orders, sir?"
"Are you kidding? I never would have had a chance to issue them." Garrett replied with an awkward chuckle. "Besides, we're done following orders, we're gonna make our own."
"Oh?" Weber responded, clearly shocked. "You're uh, going AWOL?"
"Aren't you?" Garrett asked. "You saw all of the shit they're doing down here, right?"
"...I mean, I didn't think backing out was really an option, Sir." Weber said. "But if we're deserting... how are we gonna get out of here?"
Garrett thought for a moment, but he quickly realized a traditional escape would be impossible, at least for the young soldier.
"Give me your sidearm." Garrett calmly ordered, only interrupting when Weber moved to take the magazine out. "Keep it loaded."
"Yes Sir." He nervously replied as Garrett shouldered his own rifle, took the ballistic sidearm, and racked the slide.
"Good, now ditch your rifle and get up to the surface. You are to surrender to the first alien son of a bitch that you see, do you understand? That's your best shot out of here." Garrett demanded, pilfering one of Weber's stun grenades as well.
"Yes Sir." Weber shakily replied. "What about you, what are you going to do?"
"I'm going to go find the Executive Manager, make sure he doesn't run." Garrett stated simply. "Do you know where he is?"
"In the central complex, but it's a bloodbath down there, you don't want to-" Weber answered, but Garrett interrupted his warning.
"To hell with what's down there!" Garrett yelled. "Now go, do whatever you have to do to survive... enough people have died here already."
"Yes Sir." Weber replied with a nervous gulp, before running up the way Garrett had come.
I might be a naive coward, but I'm a coward who took an oath. Garrett thought, before proceeding through the door that the young soldier had been guarding.
UNSC Dominion, Bridge
October 9th, 0750 Atlas Time, 2552
As Voodoo Squadron finished off the last of the bombers, the Marines on the ground began to report on the situation there. Point Adolf and Point Frankfurt put up little resistance, as expected, and dozens of freed slaves were being extracted along with the Marines. The two dropship hangars were beginning to suffer from congestion, so Richard authorized the usage of the main underslung hangar to help keep the dropships moving.
"New report from Point Josef, Lieutenant Clark is requesting reinforcements." Ensign Gillespie relayed.
"Rearm Third Platoon as soon as they are aboard and send them to assist." Richard ordered, knowing that the already slightly-exhausted Marines from Point Frankfurt could catch their breath on the transports. However, moving an entire platoon of Marines would take time.
Perhaps we can get them some help a bit faster. Richard thought, picking up one of the radios. "Get me direct contact with Onyx Actual."
"You're connected Sir." Gillespie confirmed, after a moment.
"Onyx, this is Dominion Actual, report status." Richard instructed.
"All surface hostiles neutralized, we're regrouping and preparing to enter the mine itself, status green." Jorge answered.
"Affirmative, we're rerouting Excalibur to another target, let us know if you need support, out." Richard said, before turning to Bradford. "XO, get those Sparrowhawks on the right track!"
"Aye Sir." Bradford confirmed.
Winter remained on the Bridge, quietly observing and making the occasional comment. "A ten-man unit took down an entire facility?"
"Everything on the surface." Richard pointed out. "There could be something we're not anticipating lurking underneath."
Chen suddenly interjected. "New Radar contacts, three new signatures, hostile IFFs!"
"Lieutenant Gage, reroute Clarion Two, get us a visual. Lieutenant Chen, sharpen up that signature and put them on the holotable." Richard ordered.
Three Corvette-Sized signatures appeared on the holotable, a little over a hundred kilometers away, but closing towards them at a respectable speed. They were flying in a Vee-Formation, and were at a notably higher altitude than the other airships.
"Hmm, bigger than the other ones, by a quite large margin." Richard quietly noted. "Lieutenant Chen, can I get an estimation of their classification?"
"Their Radar Signature is minimalized, likely by some sort of jamming system." Chen answered. "Their size is fluctuating anywhere from two-fifty to one-fifty meters."
"Those are Atlesian Cruisers, capital ships!" Winter immediately interjected, realization spread across her face. "Commander, these will prove significantly more capable opponents, and they can close that distance very fast. I strongly advise you to consider your options!"
Richard paused, a trio of Atlesian cruisers were closing in on them. Remnant had proven it's technological capabilities were inconsistent, making predicting the strength of the enemy vessels extremely difficult. Even with the capabilities of the Dominion, there was risk in any engagement, especially considering their lack of knowledge on the opponent's weaponry. But retreating wasn't an option, as it would leave the forces on the ground without cover, which left only one alternative.
"Lieutenant Gage, engage masterarm for the MAC, and begin the charging sequence. Top off the capacitors to fifty percent and load a Flechette round."
"Aye Sir." Gage replied.
"Ensign Williams." Richard spoke, turning to the young helmsman. "Bring us about, gentle maneuver so that we're targeting the main ship.
The Dominion shifted into position, slowed by the power drain of the charging Magnetic Accelerator Cannon, but the ship's reactor rushed to fill the new demand. The Spinally-mounted coilgun demanded the entire ship rotate to aim the weapon, but even with the limitations of a planet's atmosphere, the Dominion possessed capable maneuverability.
Thank god I turned down that commission on a Destroyer. Richard thought, thankful for his vessel's capabilities in the atmosphere.
"Sir, if I may interject." Bradford said, with Richard waving him to continue. "This provides a perfect chance to test our weapons strength against the enemy, perhaps we shouldn't jump straight to the main gun."
"I had a similar idea, but I'm hesitant to use anything that we can't replace without guaranteed results." Richard replied. "Maybe a spread of Archer Missiles? It would certainly soften them up."
"Excellent thinking." Bradford replied. "Lieutenant Gage, arm Archer Pods A through C and lock one pod to each target, let's soften them up for the storm."
"Aye Sir!" Gage replied, before carrying out the order. Richard thought he detected a hint of nervousness, but to be honest, he was feeling a bit nervous himself.
Well if you're so worried about the enemy's capabilities, ask the Atlesian standing next to you! His inner consciousness critically suggested. "Specialist Schnee, what's the strength of the enemy's energy shields?"
"Considerable, many times more effective than any other shield in service. The Cruiser is the pride of the fleet, I'm amazed they've managed to acquire these." Winter stated. "Still... I don't imagine they could stand toe-to-toe with some of the weapons you've described."
"All targets now one-hundred kilometers out, and closing." Chen interjected, furiously working away at her console. "Energy signatures are intensifying, they're charging weapons!"
"They will need to get closer to fire." Winter added. "But not much closer, they're approaching maximum range."
"Firing solution set!" Gage interjected. "Archer pods are hot, ready to fire!"
"Fire." Richard simply replied.
A series of dull thuds echoed throughout the hull, as sixty Archer Missiles were launched from their tubes, before quickly igniting and proceeding on their own power.
"Clarion in position, patching the feed over." Gage reported. "I'm working on the firing solution for the MAC now, we're almost at half of the required charge."
Richard took a look at what the Clarion was seeing. The three Atlesian cruisers looked very unusual, unlike any warship he had seen before. It was difficult to pick out any meaningful information about the vessel at a glance, which frustrated him greatly. The most familiar element of a long narrow spine that comprised much of the ship's superstructure. Any sense of familiarity was lost by the rest of the ship, including what appeared to be a sort of underslung command or observation deck. As well as a series of large, blocky, cube-like structures that were presumably the ship's engines, and a series of six wing-like appendages emerging from the rear of the airship. The three Airships were now standing off with the Dominion, with the only thing separating them being layers of clouds and distance.
"Wait, these are their warships? I thought these were their troop transports." Bradford said.
"There are multiple variants, all with the same general hull pattern." Winter explained, also looking at the feed. "I can now confirm those are the Cruiser models, I advise extreme caution."
"Way ahead of you Specialist..." Bradford said, eyeing the unfamiliar ships with great uncertainty.
"Missile impact, twenty seconds." Chen reported. "Enemy countermeasures are going live, attempting to counter..."
Richard watched through the camera as bands of red light lashed out from the bows and broadsides of the Atlesian Cruisers. The blasts of energy weren't aimed at the Dominion however, but at its missile volley. Seven missiles were destroyed outright, and another three were damaged enough to trigger their self-detonating mechanisms.
At least a dozen small missiles erupted from each cruiser, aiming again towards the incoming missiles from the Dominion.
Missile to missile interceptors? Richard curiously observed. Perhaps their technology has some capabilities after all.
The interceptor missiles collided with only a further three of the Archer Missiles, which slightly altered their courses to avoid the oncoming hazards. CIWS guns went live as the Archer's performed their final approach, bringing their total number down to forty.
Two-thirds hit, not bad, by modern standards. Richard thought, waiting for the impact.
Those missiles that successfully impacted had impressive effects, creating large blasts and clouds of smoke that obstructed line of sight momentarily. All three Airships were struck by the missiles, with those on the flanks taking the worst of the spread. Their shields flared with the impacts, and when the smoke had cleared, the shields of the airship on the right flank had died altogether.
As all of this was displayed on the Bridge's primary console, many of the Bridge Crew gave a hearty cheer. Richard allowed himself a small grin, victories were a rarity in the Navy.
"Steady!" Bradford shouted, although even he seemed to be emotionally lifted somewhat by the display. "We're not done yet."
"Certainly not, and they're now within firing range." Winter added, worry evident in her voice.
"Lieutenant Gage, what's the status of our MAC?" Richard calmly asked, not letting his own concern show.
"MAC charge at forty-three percent." Gage reported. "Firing solution is almost calculated."
Well, I suppose we'll be testing the armor then. Richard thought, letting his gaze wander to the blast shields that covered the windows of the Bridge. If they're anything like Covenant Pulse Lasers, we'll survive, just with a few new bruises and burns.
"Ensign Gillespie, order damage control teams to stand ready for action, order non-essential personnel to secure themselves." Richard ordered.
"Aye Sir!" Gillespie responded.
Almost as soon as he relayed the order, the Airships unleashed a volley of pulse lasers, this time aimed at the Dominion. The whole ship briefly shifted thanks to some quick thinking by Ensign Williams, who fired the port thrusters at full strength in an attempt to shake off the attack. The Dominion rumbled under the surprising physical strength of the impacts, the sound resembling an angry, animalistic growl.
I know girl, we're gonna make em' pay. Richard thought, reassuringly rubbing his hand on the holotable's edge, knowing damn well that the ship couldn't understand his thoughts.
"Damage report!" Bradford shouted, but Richard could guess it wasn't nearly as bad as they had expected.
"Frontal armor on decks one through three suffered hits, structural integrity stabilizing now. No hull breaches detected, but the out plating is at the boiling point. Ablative sheeting is gone!" Gillespie rapidly reported.
"MAC is charged and ready!" Gage interrupted.
Time to make history. Richard thought, well aware of the impacts this exact moment would have in the future. "Fire!"
For the first time in Remnant's history, recorded or not, a weapon of mass destruction was fired by humanity. The Dominion physically shifted a few millimeters as it shook, the lights flickered, and a sonic boom loud enough to deafen anyone within a kilometer of the Dominion on the ground, which nobody was. In a matter of milliseconds, the projectile had cleared the barrel of the Dominion's main gun.
Richard had intentionally selected the Flechette round for a number of reasons. Most predominantly, it allowed all three targets to be struck with one shot, hopefully eliminating or crippling all of them. It was also easy to replace, and worked better within a planet's atmosphere due to the aerodynamic nature of the projectiles. But most critically, it had a short enough range that overpenetration wasn't too great a concern.
The Flechette round initially started as hundreds of tungsten rods bound together by pressure seals. The seals were designed to snap microseconds after the projectile left the barrel, causing the massive darts to begin to scatter. The effect was something akin to a dramatically scaled up shotgun, flinging a massive web of mechanically-engineered aerodynamic shrapnel in the face of the enemy.
The monumental speed of the flechettes meant that they hit their targets in less than a second, the effects were devastating. While dozens of darts missed their mark, many more didn't, and whatever remained of the two Airships shields was eliminated almost instantaneously. The tungsten darts punched through armor, weapons, computers, flesh, and superstructure as if they were hot knives through butter. Many projectiles punched completely through the vessels, their speed barely affected.
The lead Airship quickly lost power and began to fall apart as the superstructure failed under the extreme damage, as well as the sudden force of gravity. The right-hand Airship was struck in multiple volatile components, and exploded into a massive multicolored fireball, fueled by her ammo storage. The final airship, whose shields were already disabled, was literally ripped apart, with the result scraps of metal being so badly malformed they were barely identifiable as once belonging to a ship.
The display was utterly stunning, even to the crew of the Dominion. They were so accustomed to even their strongest weapons failing to match Covenant shielding, that they sat in silence and shock.
He had expected results but… it was different to see it with your own eyes. The power they had at their fingertips weighed on him for the first time since their arrival. HE understood why the locals had feared them. He understood why some had hated them. Richard's mind fell to words uttered centuries ago by a mind ahead of his time. He spoke softly. "I am become death…"
The planet below was dangerous, even by UNSC standards, but the people had proven himself strong-willed, resourceful, and reasonably advanced… and he had just shown the world just how useless they were. The elation at the victory was practically unrivaled, as the beleaguered servicemen gave a cry of victory. Richard wished he could join in. Bradford offered Richard a quiet handshake, which he accepted.
"Huh, that went well." Bradford muttered, before clearing his throat and shouting out. "Celebrate later, we still have a job to do!"
As the rest of the Bridge Crew returned to their assignments, moving to help complete the final stages of Operation Bismarck, Richard turned to face Winter. Her face was flushed completely of blood, and she hadn't lost her expression of shock since she had seen the destruction. For the first time, her professional demeanor was overpowered by sheer shock and awe at the mayhem she had witnessed.
"Are you still with us here, Specialist?" Richard gently asked, remembering that she had just watched her people's strongest vessels get obliterated.
Show a little empathy, this is probably like watching Harvest get burned for her. Except Harvest wasn't covered in Slavers. Richard thought, mentally kicking himself.
"I... believe so." Winter said, taking a deep breath, regaining her stony expression. "I won't lie to you Commander, I'm... deeply unsettled by that display."
"No harm or dishonor in that, Specialist Schnee." Bradford commented, offering a rare bit of empathy. "Do bear in mind that where we come from, it's normally our ships that get thrashed that badly, take a moment to breathe."
Richard was content to let her sit the rest of the operation out if she needed to, but she steeled herself quite admirably, and within a matter of seconds, her demeanor hadn't quite returned, but she was at least mentally present. He knew word of this would make it to General Ironwood… maybe even with a request to be taken off the ship.
"Right, let's finish this mission then, shall we?" Winter asked.
"Certainly." Richard replied.
Author's Note: Edited all timestamps to be consistent across previous three chapters.