UNSC Dominion, Bridge
October 15th, 1455 Local Time, 2552
By the standards of modern UNSC naval battles, the Battle of Argus was going quite well. In UNSC space, the Covenant tended to end major battles in a matter of hours, usually ending with all UNSC vessels destroyed or routed. But despite Richard's relatively optimistic perspective, he could tell that by Remnant standards, this battle had already been extremely bloody. The biggest giveaway was the expression that Ironwood was trying to keep off of his face, an expression of nervousness, a slight break from his normal stoicism that Richard had not expected.
Losing Cordovin to an assassin, who was presumably a Terrorist from a radical Faunus organization, given what Ironwood had told him, had been a nasty shock. Thankfully, Ironwood was available to take over commanding the forces of Atlas in her place. The Dominion's bridge offered the perfect platform from which to do so, with Curie's assistance and the Dominion's complex holographic displays, Ironwood had a grand overview of the battle and his forces. For the most part, Richard relied on him to manage the fight on the ground, who so far had yet to break out of the deadlock it had been stuck within.
Outside of the Bridge's viewport, Richard watched as the Sabres dived and dodged throughout the Grimm, never once breaking formation as they rhythmically disassembled every Grimm that had the severe misfortune to get in their way. Coilgun slugs from the Dominion joined forces with laser blasts from the Atlesian Cruisers to form a nigh-impenetrable defensive screen. What had once seemed like an untouchable mob of flying Grimm to the citizens of Argus had been reduced to a few flocks of smaller Grimm by the UNSC's unmatched air power.
If we do find a way home, the Sabre program is getting my ringing endorsement. Richard thought as he watched the vicious starfighters launch another volley of Medusa Missiles, turning what would have been a menacing swarm of Griffins into ash and memory.
In the distance, Richard could see smoke rising from outside of Argus, where the Dominion had used her point defense cannons in a high-altitude strike. Although he couldn't actually see the landscape, it wasn't hard to imagine that whatever had previously existed there was now gone, replaced with craters and scorched land. Just to be safe, he'd ordered a flight of the Hornets to go finish off the survivors.
"Chakra Lead reports major Grimm casualties, half of their wing is returning for rearmament." Lieutenant Chen called out, as if somehow aware of his thoughts.
"Tell them to land in the Starboard Hangar, and outfit them for Close Air Support." Richard replied, as he devised the next part of his plan.
With the skies clear, the aircraft would need to be outfitted to engage ground targets. But that would pose a challenge of its own. Even if they killed all of the Airborne Grimm, it would be difficult to effectively strike at the Grimm already in the city without hitting civilian targets.
The Covenant had been known to employ similar strategies, although Richard strongly doubted that the Grimm had intentionally planned such a maneuver. Still, the coincidence was worrying, perhaps the Grimm could sense how dangerous the aircraft were to them, and sought to use the civilians as cover knowing that the humans were reluctant to fire upon their own? Or maybe he was giving too much credit to mindless beasts. If they were attracted to negativity, then it only made sense that they would pursue the crowds of civilians when given the opportunity.
"Just bad luck I'm afraid…" Richard muttered, the pressure would be on the Marines to do most of the heavy lifting.
Still, even with those problems in place, that did not mean there was nothing that the Dominion could do to help. Even if most of her weapons were too powerful to directly use on Argus, strike craft like the Hornets and the powerful but few-in-number Sparrowhawks were purpose-built to perform precise strikes on targets that gave the ground troops trouble. Meanwhile, the larger craft like the Vultures could stop any further Grimm from infiltrating the city.
Thankfully, they had some heavy-handed help with their goals. The 3rd Armor Battalion had a Company of tanks and self-propelled weapons systems stationed on the Dominion when it had been pulled into Remnant's reality, and now more than ever before, their presence was proving to be a blessing. Argus had unfortunately not had any proper tanks of their own, relying instead on the Colossus and their airwing for defense.
"Commander." Ironwood interrupted, snapping Richard up to attention. "My men need assistance on Kettle Street, and only your Marines are in a position to respond."
Richard understood the issue, Ironwood needed authority over the Marines to manage the battle on the ground effectively. "Ensign Gillespie, inform Lieutenant Clark that he is to respond to any order from General Ironwood as if it came from me."
"Aye Sir!" He replied, hastily carrying out the order.
Still, that would only be a short-term solution, fortunately, the UNSC had a protocol in place for such a situation. "Curie, I am authorizing the emergency issuing of command credentials to General Ironwood."
There was a noticeable delay before she responded in an oddly emotionless voice. "Aye Sir."
She has the hardest job of all of us. Presentation can be forgone under the circumstances. Richard thought, immediately dismissing his concerns, as he himself had more pressing matters to attend to.
"There you go General, you shouldn't have any more issues with the system now." Richard said.
"Thank you, Commander." Ironwood gratefully replied, before returning his attention to the battle on the ground.
"Guns four through eight are down for emergency maintenance to their ammo mechanisms, they'll be back up momentarily." Gage interjected from the weapons console. "Guns two and ten are reporting low ammunition, it'll take time for them to reload more out of the magazine."
Richard frowned, he didn't want to see half of the Dominion's guns offline at one point in time, that would leave them open. "Order them to conserve their shots and switch to full-power firing, but not to fire upon Argus itself."
"Aye Sir." Gage replied.
The point-defense guns of the Dominion were versatile. They could fire lower-power rounds at rapid rates of fire, or fully charge their capacitors to increase stopping power, at the cost of rate of fire. While they were far stronger than the Atlesian Lasers, they could also over-penetrate their targets, and injure anyone unlucky enough to be caught on the receiving end of the blast.
Sir Issac Newton is one deadly son of a bitch. Richard thought, recalling something that an aging Fleet Admiral had once jokingly said to him.
Outside of the window, Richard watched as the Sabres split off their formation and began to take on the straggling Grimm one by one. The Atlesian Gunships joined in, and partook in concluding perhaps the most one-sided aerial engagement in Remnant's history.
"Now, we make our move." Richard muttered under his breath, eyeing the strategic overlay on the holotable as he put together the fine details of his plan. While the Marines deal with the Grimm, we'll take the place of the wall, kill any Grimm who think that they have a stake in this fight. Without a steady stream of fresh Grimm, the Marines can finish the job.
Still, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness and doubt, it came with the pressures of command. The only thing he could do was lead his men well and have faith in their strength.
Argus, Primary Radar Tower
October 15th, 1455 Local Time, 2552
Normally, performing a combat landing with only two people was a suicidal venture. But with the twin rotary-cannons of a Hornet to cover their entrance, Fairfire and Winter only found smoking Grimm and a handful of wounded stragglers waiting to greet them. What had once been a full pack of Beowolves was now only four of them, two fell by Fairfire's shotgun, and the other two by Winter's sword.
Traveling by the small and maneuverable Hornet meant that they had been able to land directly within the grassy area around the Radar Tower, where the forest had been cleared. Immediately, Winter ran a quick check on the vitals of every Atlesian soldier she could find, but Fairfire could tell just by the way that they lay that it was too late to save them. It was a brutal sight, the corpses having been slash apart in a savage manner. The wounds were made seemingly at random, but still too precise to have been the work of any Grimm.
Whoever did this is one sick fuck. Fairfire thought, feeling a fresh wave of disgust at the brutal slaughter. Whoever had a reason to kill humanity's defenders like this, it wasn't a good one.
Through the trees and undergrowth, the sounds of battle raged from Argus. Explosions, gunfire, artillery, and the roaring of larger Grimm punctuated what must have been a hellish fight. Somewhere in that chaos, her squad was fighting without her, but with two Spartans and a Huntress, they would be more than a match for anything they came up against.
Focus on your own mission. Fairfire thought as she kept pace behind Winter, her shotgun ready to be fired at a moment's notice.
As Winter inspected the final dead guardsman, Fairfire heard a wild snarl behind her. In one swift movement, she turned to come face-to-face with an Ursa Major. One fresh serving of eight-gauge buckshot in the skull proved sufficient to convince the Grimm that it was time to die, the familiar sound of an M90's report sounding like sweet music to Fairfire.
I've missed this. Fairfire thought as the Grimm vanished into the air.
"No survivors." Winter said, apparently having concluded her search. There wasn't a hint of emotion in her words, she concealed them well. "Keep your eyes open, the negativity here is going to act like a dinner bell for the Grimm."
"Good thing it's hunting season." Fairfire commented as she reloaded a round to replace the one she had fired.
"Don't get cocky." Winter commanded, with a surprising authority in her voice. "The Grimm might not be coming in force, but that does not mean we should expect this to be easy."
Fairfire gave a firm nod. "Understood Ma'am."
Winter drew her sword from its sheath as she scanned the surrounding woodlands. "Although… it's odd that there isn't more here yet."
As if to answer her challenge, the shrill cry of some kind of Avian creature sounded from above them. Fairfire looked up to see some kind of bat-like Grimm dangling from a tree branch as it's counterparts landed on the same branch, maybe twenty meters up in the canopy. Unlike the other Grimm, this one seemed to be reasonably-sized, although that didn't make them any less disconcerting.
They think they're out of my range. Fairfire realized. That explains why they're acting so suicidal.
While Winter summoned some sort of Glyph from the ground, Fairfire fired her first shot into the cluster of Grimm to devastating effect. A pair of follow-up shots proved sufficient to kill every one of the Bats before Winter could even finish summoning the ghastly Nevermore from whatever realm she pulled it out of.
A shiver went down Fairfire's spine as Winter completed the summoning anyway, she must've expected it was going to come in handy. I don't care how many times I see her do that, I will never get used to it.
"I didn't expect your shotguns to work at such a range." Winter admitted, her expression indicating that she was more confused than impressed.
"It can put a wad of buckshot through something at around double that range, actually. Load it with slugs, and it's at about four times that." Fairfire explained as she reloaded before she found herself grinning behind her visor. "Why, were you thinking about grabbing one?"
Winter scowled. "I think I'm perfectly comfortable with my current arsenal, thank you."
Fairfire shrugged. "Suit yourself, the offer stands if you ever change your mind."
Forget the Grimm and the scary-ass superpowers, a planet without good shotguns is a travesty. Fairfire thought.
There was a lull of relative silence in spite of the battle in the distance, as they walked throughout the bloodstained grass that coated the ground at the Radar Station, staying vigilant for any further Grimm. But it was while Fairfire was looking at where the Radar Tower had been sabotaged that she noticed something odd.
"Hey Specialist, come have a look at this…" Fairfire said as she came to a standstill, examining the charred metal that had once been the intact steel supports. "Looks like whatever brought this thing down did it quick."
"An explosive." Winter summarized. "We knew that a saboteur was involved here, but if they had explosives like that, they must be well-equipped."
"You think so? It can't be that hard to find Dust around here." Fairfire said. She'd seen stores outright selling the damn stuff by the crystal like it was some kind of high-risk jewelry.
"It's not, but to make it into such a potent explosive would take skill, time, and considerable effort." Winter explained as she too examined the burns closer.
Fairfire felt a sense of anger, whoever did this clearly planned it out. "Who the hell would do that?"
"The criminal, or the insane, usually both." Winter dispassionately answered. "Rest assured, if we get our shot, we'll bring them in."
Fairfire took one last glance at what she really hoped wasn't the remains of a human skeleton before turning back to the woods. She didn't feel a need to respond to Winter's statement, partially because Winter clearly wasn't expecting an answer, and partly because there was a part of Fairfire wondering if she counted as the criminally insane.
They won't forget what you did, Semblance or not. Fairfire thought, a familiar churning finding its way into her stomach, before she banished it outright. Focus on the mission you moron, you've got an excellent chance to test out your Semblance right here.
Fairfire didn't even glance over her shoulder as she spoke, she wanted to remain alert. "So, Specialist. Now that we're in the field, how do I turn my Semblance on?"
There was a moment of silence as Winter probably thought about the question. "I don't think your Semblance works passively, it probably works actively, so the best thing that you can do is to just try using your Aura as you fight."
Although somewhat annoyed by Winter's cryptic answer, Fairfire figured that the Operative who had learned how to summon her fallen enemies to serve her probably knew what she was talking about. After only a few more moments of waiting, Fairfire heard heavy footfalls ahead of her and saw Winter take up a position beside her outside of her peripheral vision.
"That sounds like something heavy, be ready to move!" Winter warned.
Even before Fairfire could respond, a gigantic Grimm gorilla burst through the treeline with a ferocious roar as it barreled towards them on all fours. Heeding Winter's advice, Fairfire squeezed off a single shot and dove out of the way as the Grimm barreled past her, a massive fist landing where she had previously stood.
"Beringel!" Winter called out from the other side of the wall of black flesh between them, although there wasn't a hint of fear in her voice. "Wear it down, target the limbs!"
Fairfire rapidly returned to a firing stance, and took aim at the creature's legs. She squeezed off her first shot, and instead of releasing the trigger, proceeded to rack the slide of her weapon, firing another, then another, until the tube was empty. Slam-firing was a fairly simple technique on paper, but performing it with an Eight Gauge Magnum Shotgun was exceptionally difficult. Thankfully, Fairfire was well-practiced, and almost all of her pellets went around where she wanted them to, straight into the legs of the Beringel.
The Grimm let out an awful screech as its lower limbs were ground apart in a maelstrom of buckshot, but its scream of agony was interrupted by Winter's summoned Nevermore, which latched onto the Grimm's head and proceeded to peck at its face unrelentingly. The Beringel responded by reaching up to the Nevermore, grabbing it, and crushing it in a muscle-bound fist.
Well, at least this ape doesn't have a gravity hammer… Fairfire thought as she reloaded.
The Beringel focused its efforts on Winter, who dodged around the Grimm, delivering a series of heavy-handed, yet elegant strikes on the beast's unprotected flanks. The Beringel swung its arms in protest, eventually landing a lucky blow that sent Winter flying back, but she managed to recover and properly right herself. With Fairfire now the closer target, the Beringel turned its attention towards her.
"Oh shit…" Fairfire muttered as the massive beast came barreling towards her.
This time, it seemed consciously aware that she might try to evade it, as it moved from side to side, seemingly trying to catch her before she even acted. And so, with her sensible strategy now no longer an option, she opted for a more unconventional plan. Rather than try to avoid the Beringel, she would try to stop it before it reached her.
She eyed the Beringel over as time seemed to slow to a crawl, its legs were tattered and torn where she had shot at them, but it's dense muscles were barely even touched. She could try to use her grenades or her pistol, but reaching either of them would take too much time. As it drew nearer and nearer, Fairfire was suddenly consciously aware that her Aura wasn't at its full strength, and without her full reserves, the Beringel might actually kill her.
For a split, brief moment, her mind was overtaken by fear as instinct took over. But something strange happened as she felt that familiar instinct do the exact opposite of what she anticipated it to do. Rather than instilling a sense of panic, Fairfire felt an urge to hold her fire, almost like an instruction. Against her training, judgement, and common sense, she did the risky thing and obeyed.
Seconds passed as the Beringel tore up clumps of dirt and grass beneath its massive feet as it closed the distance down to only a couple of meters. Then, Fairfire felt her instinct shift drastically, commanding her to fire now. She felt a sizable chunk of her Aura deplete as a familiar muzzle flash filled her vision, and she watched as before the Beringel could finish its leap to pounce on her… it vanished into a fine black smoke. Then a harsh ringing filled her ears as she noticed that whatever had just happened, it had made her shotgun considerably louder than her hearing protection was configured for.
Winter was at her side within a moment, shaking Fairfire into a clearer state of mind as she sat completely dumbstruck by what she had just done. With a single blast of her shotgun, she had stopped a Grimm that by no means should have died that quickly. The ringing in her ears began to die down as Winter's voice became audible.
"...Corporal, Corporal wake up!" Winter commanded, a hint of nervousness in her voice overriding her traditionally clinical tone. "Can you hear me?"
"Yeah, I'm good, fine actually." Fairfire answered as she looked at the weighty footprints where the Beringel had last stood. "What… just happened?"
"Well…" Winter said with a faint hint of pride. "I believe that you've just used your Semblance."
UNSC Dominion
October 15th, 1500 Local Time, 2552
Behind every transmission that went through the Dominion or its forces, Curie was managing the call to make sure information was being passed along correctly. In the last minute alone, the Dominion received no less than fourteen-thousand messages, calls, and transmissions. Of them, only a small number were relevant to the battle, Curie declined to respond to all of the others.
Every shot that fired from the Dominion's Point Defense Guns had a bit of her focus behind it as well. When Turret Two reported a miss, she ran a split-second analysis of the shot, isolated the issue, fixed it, and sent the corrected firing solution to the Gunnery Crew. On top of the Dominion's Point Defense System, Curie also needed to ensure that no Grimm were evading their fields of fire. Thankfully, the Atlesians were happy to fire upon any of the targets that she asked them too.
But managing so many different actions was starting to take a toll on her, so great was the pressure, that Curie would've assumed she was overworking herself, that was if an A.I could become exerted. Her processing power ebbed and flowed as various subroutines completed their tasks and Curie assigned new ones in their place. Her greatest strength was that all of her was in the Dominion's systems, not one fragment of her being was missing. And yet, she still found herself reaching the upper limits of just how many individual tasks she could handle, and sadly, she knew why.
Even if she wasn't totally aware of her own origins, she was aware of certain elements of her unique nature. While her unusual aversion to rampancy and her fragmenting capabilities were well-documented advantages, they came at a price, Curie's total processing capabilities were roughly half of that as an average Third-Generation Smart A.I. and as the battle intensified, she quickly found her reserves of excess processing power vanishing.
I simply must be more efficient. Curie thought.
She simplified her targeting algorithm for the point-defense cannons, requisitioned a chunk of Lieutenant Gage's system for her own usage, and put it towards generating better firing solutions. At the same time, she redirected another six transmissions of critical importance to Lieutenant Chen, she would be able to handle them better anyway. In spite of her efforts, she found her limits within reach.
What is diverting so much of my power? Curie thought. Silently, rapidly, and efficiently, she reevaluated every single program she had currently running, and found a solution to her problem.
Her long-term projects were taking up a considerable part of her processing capabilities, a little over a quarter, in fact. They included various long-term strategic programs such as finding a way home and her coordination of Remnant's larger education reforms. With a heavy heart and much regret, she paused them all, and offloaded them onto an auxiliary storage drive.
With her newfound powers, she redoubled her focus on the fight, and found herself comfortably within her limits again. Now she could think clearly. In an effort to ensure that such a problem did not happen again, she reluctantly employed the elements of Auntie Dot that she had absorbed prior to the Dumb A.I's death.
This may be morbid, but it is necessary. Curie thought, although she was well aware that nothing remained of Dot to hear her. Even in death, you will help us complete our mission.
"Curie, I need direct contact with the Captain of the Fox." Richard said, siphoning her attention away from the battle and onto the bridge.
"Oui, Sir." Curie said through her hologram. While she established the handshake protocol with the Fox, she looked to the Commander apologetically. "I am afraid I have been forced to postpone all of my long-term programs to focus on the battle."
He looked at her with a nearly unreadable expression, save for a shred of gratitude. "Do whatever you have to do to keep us going Curie, Argus needs us."
Curie gave a stern nod, his instructions could not be misunderstood. "Aye Sir."
Curie patched him through to the transmission he had requested, and returned to focusing on the fight outside. While the battle in the air began to draw to a relative close, the battle on the ground intensified by the second. She couldn't help but feel a hint of fear and worry for Ben and the rest of Onyx Team, well aware that they were in the thick of the action.
He's a Spartan, accompanied by one of Humanity's greatest warriors, as well as a veteran Huntress, your worry is unfounded. Curie sternly reminded herself, and yet, her concerns barely wavered.
Argus
October 15th, 1502 Local Time, 2552
The more Grimm that Onyx Team defeated, the easier it became for Ben to predict their movements and actions. Ursas tended to charge haphazardly, Beowolves employed basic pack tactics, as their wolf-like nature would suggest, and the Creeps seemed to be capable of grouping up into swarms, not unlike the Grunts of the Covenant.
This meant each type of Grimm had an exploitable weakness, the Beowolves relied on their pack leaders, which quickly became Nathan's priority target. The Creeps were nothing but cannon fodder in the face of Jorge and Mags. The Ursas were durable, but the vulnerabilities in their armor were easily exploited by flanking them with the help of Kerry, Peggy, and Kowalski.
As the rest of Onyx Team finished up wiping out the last of what had once been a sizable horde of various types of Grimm, Ben finished off a Boarbatusk using his Kukri, something that proved to be far more effective than he had anticipated against what was effectively an armored boar. But the gaps in its bones were easily exploited in melee combat, especially against an opponent that didn't have a chance in hell of piercing his armor.
"Not bad Sergeant, I can't remember the last time I saw someone wrestle a Boarbatusk." Mags commented as he sheathed his blade.
"Eh, compared to the Ursas, they aren't so bad." Ben replied. "At least with these things, you have a free hand to kill it."
Ignoring Mags mildly disturbed, yet vaguely impressed expression, he returned to his place in the squad's formation.
"Man, where the hell are all the Atlesians? I thought this was their damn city!" Nathan complained.
"Further towards the front I imagine, or defending the base." Ben answered, although he couldn't say anything for certain.
"Eyes forward Marines, it looks like we're getting close." Jorge said, snapping everyone back to attention.
Their target apartment building now loomed overhead, less than a block away, standing considerably taller than most of the surrounding structures. The fire on the top floor was spreading rapidly and wildly, it would be difficult to find a decent firing position to kill the Tyrant. Ben shifted the Spartan Laser over his shoulder as he remembered that with Meadows out of the fight, it would now be his duty to kill the target.
As Onyx Team approached the intersection in the roads that lead to their objective, Ben could hear gunfire and shouting, there was clearly some sort of combat already taking place at the base of the building. Jorge picked up the pace, the rest of the squad following suit, and they rounded the corner to see a squad of Marines fighting off a pack of Ursas at very close range. There were some Atlesian soldiers mixed into their ranks, and they were formed in a semi-circle around the entrance to the building, trying to defend a group of terrified civilians in the lobby.
"Give us a hand!" The squad leader of the Marines shouted. "Bastards just keep coming!"
Onyx Team engaged immediately, offering the Marines some much-needed breathing room. The weak armor on the Ursas flanks was easily exploited by Onyx Team, while the Marines and Atlesians redoubled their efforts, putting the Grimm into a deadly crossfire. More Grimm of various types arrived, coming from down the street, where Argus's defensive wall could be seen in the distance.
There must be a breach somewhere else down the wall, or multiple. Ben thought, noting that at least from here, the wall seemed to be intact.
"Form up with the Marines!" Jorge commanded over the din of the gunfire. Onyx Team carried out his order as they pushed towards the entrance to the apartment, and joined the Marines in their makeshift fortifications. "Mags, get up on the second story and get some fire on their reinforcements."
"Aye Aye!" She replied. She made a single great leap onto the awning over the lobby, from which she made another, shorter jump through a broken window into one of the apartments.
As Ben took a position just outside of the door to the lobby, he could see all of the people sheltering inside. The Marines looked deeply relieved to see them, and although Ben couldn't see the faces of the Atlesians beneath their helmets, he could sense their relief as well.
"Good to see you, Lieutenant!" The leading Marine said as he picked off an approaching Creep with his Battle Rifle. "Almost thought that they had us there for a moment!"
"What's your name and unit Marine?" Jorge asked.
"Sergeant Garrick, Sir, Wendigo Squad. I think these Atlas dudes said that they're from one of the local fireteams, Crimson or something-" He replied, but was distracted by the heavy footfalls of what must've been some sort of large Grimm.
Ben's radio crackled as the voice of Mags became audible over the line. "The Tyrant is coming here, down the main road!"
Even before Jorge ordered him too, Ben holstered his rifle and drew the Spartan Laser. They would need to adjust their strategy. The firing mechanism unfolded with a mechanical whirring sound, and the targeting reticle on his HUD adjusted to match his newly-equipped weapon.
As easily the most powerful handheld firearm in the UNSC's arsenal, the Spartan Laser would be their best chance at neutralizing the large Grimm. Although Jorge had proven in the deserts of Menagerie that even the largest of the Grimm were vulnerable to sustained fire, the panicked civilians crowded in the lobby of the apartment building served as a prime reminder that they did not have time to slowly erode the Tyrant.
We'll have to kill it fast, stop it before it can reach the building. Ben thought. Even if the Marines and Atlesians could take a hit with their Aura, the civilians didn't have that luxury.
"What's our plan?" Ben asked.
There were two obvious courses of action to take. If he attempted to gain an elevated firing position, he might be too slow and be left out of position when the Tyrant arrived. If he ventured outside, he would be at risk of being attacked by the rest of the Grimm while he fired at the target.
Jorge didn't take long to decide what their strategy would be. He turned to Sergeant Garrick and shouted a set of instructions at him. "We're going out to kill a priority target, have your men cover us!"
Garrick looked up at Jorge's visor like he was insane, but firmly nodded anyway.
"Mags, take care of anything that has heavy armor, the rest of us will cover Ben while he takes down the Tyrant." Jorge instructed over the radio. "Move out on my Mark!"
Confirmations rang out over TEAMCOM as the adrenaline rushed in Ben's blood. Even though he could fire Meadows' SMG with one hand should the need arise, he would still be largely under the protection of his squadmates amidst what was rapidly becoming a sea of Grimm.
"Mark!" Jorge commanded.
Onyx Team sallied forth under the cover of the Marines and Atlesian Soldiers, hundreds of spent casings littered the ground as dozens of Grimm of all kinds were killed in a tidal wave of gunfire. The Grimm around them dropped like flies, and even though more attempted to take their place, the combined firepower of both squads was enough for Onyx team to begin gaining ground.
Even as the firefight intensified around him, Ben focused on preparing the Spartan Laser to fire.
It didn't take long for the Tyrant to come into view, and when it did, Ben realized that he had fundamentally misunderstood Curie's description of the Grimm. She had compared it to an ancient long-deceased animal of some kind, but archeology had not been one of the things that Ben was taught during Boot Camp, leaving him without a proper expectation of the monolithic beast that was now approaching them.
Standing well over twenty meters tall, the bipedal lizard was larger than an M313 Elephant Recovery Vehicle in every regard, save for being about half the length. Its head was the size of a Warthog, and its mouth consisted of three jaws in a triangular formation, similar to those of an Elite, only lined with dozens of teeth, all of which were the size of swords. Its arms were oddly short for such a massive creature, and much of the rest of its torso was layered in spikes.
Ah, so that's why Jorge said we needed the Laser to kill it. Ben thought, a sense of primal fear threatening to surface itself, although it was quickly buried beneath adrenaline and his efforts to ignore it.
The effective range of the Laser was effectively infinite, so Ben wasted no time as he unfolded the targeting apparatus, lined the weapon up with the Tyrant's head, and charged his first shot. After a few seconds of charging, he fired, and the entire street was bathed in a harsh, bright red glow. The pulsed-laser shot through the air at lightspeed, burning through the Tyrant's skull and emerging unfazed throughout the other side.
The Marines and Atlesians cheered as the Tyrant slowly came to a halt… before it began to move again, seemingly unfazed by the massive burning hole reaching from its nose to the back of its head. If anything, it moved even faster, it's eyes glazed over in the same hatred that all of the Grimm shared. It was now around a hundred meters away, but with the Tyrant's massive size, it's stride meant that it would arrive any second.
Undeterred by the fact that he had apparently not delivered a killing blow, Ben let the laser cool, charged a second shot, and fired a steady beam into its neck. The Laser had a firing period of a little under half a second, which Ben used to try to maneuver the laser mid-stream to cut the Tyrant's head off. When the familiar red glow again cleared from the air, the Tyrant was now fifty meters away, still moving, with its head attached only by a small portion of what had originally been its neck.
Ben was utterly astonished, and the panicked exclamations that he heard from his squadmates indicated that they were equally surprised by the Tyrant's continued survival. Its spine must've been totally severed from its head, and the brain of any normal creature would've been either destroyed by the first blast, or starved of oxygen by the second. Faced with such a sight, there was only one reasonable conclusion to make.
It must not need its head, it's organs must be somewhere else! Ben realized.
"Ben, go for the knees!" Nathan shouted, his voice overpowered the steady whine of the laser as it charged again.
Although Ben's gut reaction was to go for a center mass shot, he realized that Nathan's tactic had a point. If the next laser didn't at least incapacitate the Tyrant, it would be upon them before Ben could fire a fourth. Even with its head severed, the Grimm would still have easily torn through Onyx Team and pushed its way to the civilians before Ben and his squad could recover.
Making the split-second call to follow Nathan's suggestion, Ben lined up a shot on the creature's left knee while Nathan fired every round in his magazine into the same joint to soften up the armor and flesh for Ben's shot. Bone armor splintered and cracked as flesh was rendered by the hefty kinetic penetrators loaded in Nathan's Sniper Rifle, all the while, Ben prepared the Spartan Laser for one last shot.
Once more, a beam of brilliant red light illuminated all of Matsu Street as the Tyrant was stopped in its tracks by the laser. In what must've been some kind of instinctual attempt to avoid the laser, the Tyrant made the critical mistake of attempting to move its leg out of the way. As the Tyrant shifted its leg, the Spartan Laser did not grow any cooler, and its intense heat severed the Tyrant's left leg at the knee, causing the Grimm to tumble to the ground, incapacitated.
Although the Grimm was still alive, and it snarled and growled in a terrible way, it was, for the moment, no longer a threat. The remaining Grimm must've been scared by the fall of the Tyrant. The Marines let out a hearty cheer as they fired at the fleeing Grimm, which was quickly joined by the Atlesians, who were presumably stunned at the display.
"Goddamn, you guys have guns that do that?!" Mags said over the radio, a sense of wonder in her voice. "And to think, you all still use rifles!"
The Spartan Laser still hissed softly in Ben's hands as it dissipated the heat of three consecutively-fired shots. Ben's HUD stated that he had two shots left in the weapon before the battery was depleted entirely.
Here's hoping that the Grimm didn't bring any more of those things. Ben thought, watching as the Tyrant still struggled to right itself.
"Jesus, that thing's still alive?!" Nathan softly said, an unmistakable hint of fear in his voice. "And to think, I used to like Dinosaurs…"
Ben placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's tough, but it ain't invincible."
"Yeah, on that note…" Jorge said. "Squad, reform on me, let's go finish this thing off, make sure it's not going to hurt anyone."
Mags rejoined the squad as they cautiously approached the still thrashing Tyrant. Even with its head nearly severed into two, it was remarkably undeterred, even as its own movements caused further damage to its body.
"Christ, look at the size of that thing!" Nathan commented. "It's like a big, angry building."
"You got many buildings like this back where you come from?" Mags jokingly asked. "Shit, your planet sounds a lot more interesting than here…"
Jorge and Ben ignored the chatter and deduced a plan to kill it quickly without wasting munitions, and eventually settled on throwing three grenades under the beast at once, one under the remains of the head, one under the torso, and one under the remains of the legs. No matter where the creature's "brain" was, it would be hit by something and killed, thus avoiding the problem that the Spartan Laser ran into.
Onyx Team returned to cover as Jorge, Ben, and Mags each primed a fragmentation grenade and threw them at once. The blast was deafening, and when the smoke cleared, the Tyrant's mangled corpse was still visible, although it was now completely still.
Moments later, it began to steadily melt into a viscous black fluid, which began to pool around it's rapidly melting body. Onyx Team instinctively began to slowly back away as the liquid naturally pooled in the streets of Argus, filling in the lowest points before moving on.
"Mags, what's it doing?" Ben asked.
He figured that maybe she would know what was happening, and why it wasn't just dissipating like a normal Grimm, but Mags didn't respond. Ben turned to see her staring at the rapidly spreading black fluid with a mix of shock and fear, and he quickly deduced that something was dreadfully wrong.
A painful knot formed in his stomach, as if trying to warn him about something coming. At the same time, a solid shape began to take form as it emerged from the puddle, droplets of the black fluid falling from what was now becoming visible as the tip of a long, slender limb, complete with a set of claws on the end.
"Back up!" Ben shouted, hoping that he would be fast enough to warn his squad to move out of the way.
He drew the SMG from his hip at such speed that most of his squad had not even reacted to his words before he started firing. The strange Grimm tendril flinched the first few times it was hit, but quickly adapted to the pain, and lunged forward towards Ben just as the magazine ran dry. Thankfully, the rest of Onyx Team had now reacted, and their combined fire was enough to stun the tendril, before a shot from Mags managed to cut it in half, the liberated portion of the limb quickly dissipating into the air.
But as the remains of the first tendril retreated back into the puddle, seemingly re-melting into a liquid form as it did so, at least six more of the limbs reached out of the puddle, all bearing down on Onyx Team. Even without any way of seeing the humans, it was as if they could sense their presence, as they lashed out to try and strike them with immense force. But with the element of surprise lost, the tendrils quickly fell to combined gunfire.
Jorge took the initiative and took aim at the puddle of black goo itself, rather than the tendrils, and with his explosive ammo, successfully severing two of them in their entirety before the rest disappeared back beneath the surface. Although it might just have been an illusion, Ben could've sworn that the puddle grew slightly as the tendrils retreated.
"Ben, plasma grenade!" Jorge shouted.
Ben withdrew and primed a plasma grenade before throwing it into the pool of black liquid. When the grenade detonated, the pool exploded, sending the liquid flying violently in every direction with particles and blobs of burning plasma still fuzed to it.
With the pool now broken up and its remains burning, it finally disappeared in a familiar, if ever-unnerving, black smoke. No more tendrils emerged, and no more of the strange Grimm fluid remained. With the unusual remains of the Tyrant now completely dead, Onyx Team regrouped once again in front of the apartment building, finding that the Marines and Atlesians were beginning to file the civilians out of the lobby.
"I'm so glad that guy's dead, he was freaking me the hell out." Nathan said in a half-joke, his voice cracking slightly as he looked back at where the Tyrant had once been thrashing on the ground, as if expecting more tentacles to appear from that area.
"Tell me about it…" Mags said, a haunted look on her face. "Ten years as a Huntress and I have never seen anything like that…"
"Disturbing or not, that thing wasn't invulnerable, none of these things are." Jorge said, clearly trying to offer some reassurance. Ben recognized something in his words that any non-Spartan would have totally missed, concern.
"Fuck me, man…" Nathan said. Ben could hear him let out a hefty breath, it must've really gotten under his skin.
"Pull it together, Helljumper." Ben said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's going to take more than some demented spaghetti to kill us."
Nathan let out a halfhearted chuckle at Ben's attempted joke, but his effort to lighten the mood had clearly not succeeded. Mags stared at nothing in particular with her eyes wide and blank, no doubt pondering what exactly they had just fought. And even though the rest of his squadmates all had visors covering their faces, it wasn't hard to see that they were shaken.
How could they not be? That was like Staring down a Scarab, only it had teeth, and didn't even die the first time around. Ben thought, realizing that perhaps their discomfort was justified. He himself had felt a fair hint of fear as he stared down the Tyrant, but thankfully, none of his squadmates had backed down when it had mattered, and because of that, everyone was still alive.
For just a little bit longer.
Salem's Castle
October 15th, 1914 Local Time, 2552
Of course they have lasers. Salem thought with a grumble of irritation.
One of her most powerful, newest creations, had been killed by some alien lunatic with one of the most powerful non-magical weapons that she had ever seen. She had honestly expected their warship and its weapons to be the last trick they had up their sleeve, but it seemed that she had underestimated the versatility and power of the UNSC's arsenal.
Perhaps Tyrian could steal one for us, that is, if he could get close enough to try. Salem thought.
"The Dominion is moving." Watts unceremoniously announced.
Salem shifted her vision to a Seer that was concealed in the forests, far outside of Argus, and took a look for herself. Indeed, the UNSC was moving their vessel forward, in a sort of sluggish drift that seemed odd, given the impressive speeds that it was apparently capable of travelling at. It moved away from the airspace above the Argus Military Base and repositioned itself over the outer wall of Argus.
As the cannons aboard the ship began to fire upon the Grimm outside of the wall, Salem quickly deduced the UNSC leader's strategy. They were attempting to use the warship and its firepower as a bulwark, stopping any further Grimm from entering the city. Admittedly, it would prove an obstacle to any of the wild Grimm who had not yet entered the fight, but it was fatally out of position for what Salem had planned.
"Then it is time to release the hounds." She commented, and all at once, the commands that she had given to the Grimm became null and void, only to be replaced by their anger and need to destroy.
"Beowolves? I expected something greater." Watts said with a huff of amusement.
"It was a metaphor." Salem said, looking at him with a glare that quickly put him back into his place.
At first, nothing seemed to change. Then the ground itself shook around Argus, the waves in the distant sea intensified as a gigantic black mass emerged, and a howling roar pierced the afternoon air of Argus.
At the same time, the forests around Argus's twin mountains began to shift and shake, as thousands of fresh Grimm moved beneath their canopies. The canopy then parted altogether, as swarms of a new breed of Acid-Spitting Lancers flying into the sky.
"...I see." Watts said, without an ounce of humor in his voice.
Salem gave a quiet smile as she saw the fear in his eyes.