AN: I apologize for yet another long wait. I've been preparing to head off to college, and doing last minute work on my Mandalorian Mercs cosplay kit(shout out to any Mandos in the audience!) for the last couple weeks and haven't had much time to write or do anything for that matter. I'm settled now though so hopefully I'll be able to write more soon.
Enjoy!
"Teamwork is essential; it gives the enemy other people to shoot at."
-Excerpt from Murphy's Laws of Combat Operations
Location: Pelican dropship Tartcart, on approach to URF controlled planet X50, 08:33 hours standard military time, mission clock +00:00. January 9th, 2559.
Every ride with Devereaux was like a orbital roller coaster ride from hell. Luckily, even though it was too large for her to fit a restraining harness over, Alison's armor kept her from being thrown about in her seat while Tartcart's airframe buffeted heavily as it descended through the thick atmosphere of X50.
Brandon, however, wasn't as fortunate. He was thrown about in his seat as the cockpit began to heat up from the friction of the orbital entry. His head hung like he wanted to vomit, but his helmet made that a potentially deadly scenario. Alison could see the fog beginning to form and condense on his blue face shield as his armor's air conditioning system kicked in at full power, but still failed to keep out the heat.
The ODSTs, on the other hand, seemed to be having the time of their lives. Mal and Vaz rolled with every punishing buffet, relishing the feeling of screaming towards the drop point and hardly seeming phased.
"What's the matter Army guy, not used to a little heat?" Asked Mal.
Brandon laughed lowly in return, then tapped his back, where his Army issue jetpack was located.
"You think drop pods are bad jarhead, wait until you try an ionospheric entry in only your armor, with nothing but a parachute and a jetpack to break your fall, said Brandon with a winning grin his helmet hid. "That's how we do it in the airborne."
For once, Mal and Vaz didn't have a witty comeback, and instead went back to enjoying the ride.
Alison allowed herself to enjoy the banter between the three men. Before this op, she would have probably seen such useless dialogue as unprofessional, but now she saw it as a much-needed way for soldiers to blow off steam. Maybe one day she'd even learn to participate.
Alison lurched as she felt the dropship quickly decelerate. She knew the ship had reached a height of 100,000 feet above the planet's surface when it fired it retrorockets to correct its entry so that it could engage its cloaking system. The Devereaux banked the control surfaces and fired the engines downward on low power, allowing the ship to essentially spiral straight down to the insertion point fully cloaked.
Naomi's distorted voice broke through her comm a moment later.
"Ready, sister?" She asked as she removed her DMR from the rack next to her seat.
"Always," responded Alison in an upbeat tone.
Alison took a deep breath, and then glanced at Brandon. She'd been worried before about losing acquaintances in combat. She may be a Spartan, but she was also human, and death meant pain universally. Brandon, however, was more than an acquaintance, and more than a friend. How could she possibly survive losing someone like him?
Slowly the dropship began to buffet less and less as is fell closer to the ground. Alison retrieved her cut down SAW from the seat next to her, attached the LALS to it from her backpack, and checked the ammo counter. 950 rounds.
She felt the ship's vertical thrusters fire harder as it drew closer to the ground and was pushed down into her seat by the upward force of the dropship. She immediately turned to see if Brandon was ok. He too was buried into his seat, and given the awkward position of his hands pinned beneath his rifle, he couldn't move, but he appeared fine. She hoped he was.
Alison's augmentations allowed her to stand under the weight of the dropship's descent and stack up on the rear hatch of the dropship with Naomi.
"Thirty seconds to touchdown!" Yelled Devereaux through the pelican's PA.
Alison began to feel the weight of inertia lift from off her shoulders and her stomach lurch up into her throat as the dropship slowly came to a stop. The thrusters gave one last push, and then the pelican stopped dead.
"Go, go, go!" shouted Devereaux.
The Spartans didn't waste any time. They jumped the remaining twenty or so feet to the ground from the hovering dropship into a small hole in the dusty planet's fluorescent foliage. Alison's boots hit the ground hard, cracking the sandstone-like rock, and throwing up a cloud of dust. She glanced to see if Naomi made it alright, and sure enough she was standing just fine. The two of them made their way deep into the clearing, heavily lit by the neon red glow of the spindly alien flora.
Alison engaged her VISR and scanned for any nearby hostile contacts. Nothing came up, so she flashed a green acknowledgment light to the dropships. A second later a pair of ropes fell. Mal, Vaz, Brandon, Sgt. Mathews and two additional ODSTs rappelled down from the dropship.
"Kilo-5 is down," said Brandon over the radio when he hit the ground.
"Azrael-6 actual is down," said Sgt. Mathews as she did the same.
The dropship's crews retracted the ropes, cloaked, and flew off to loiter and provide air support if necessary.
The soldiers formed up in a circle and projected a map onto the ground while the Spartans provided security. Brandon highlighted their location. He pointed out the road that cut through the jungle on the map and made a wordless motion for Sgt. Mathews to follow the path away from the URF installation to find out where they were pulling the forerunner devices from, while they would breach the compound and destroy any that they already had.
Sgt. Mathews nodded in acknowledgment, before engaging the optical camouflage on her armor. Kilo-5 shortly followed suit, leaving only their IFF tags and the outlines of their armor in VISR to identify where they were.
The eight took off on the road with the Spartans in the lead until they were right up against the clearing. The soldiers held position and waited for Osman's command.
"All callsigns Azrael, this is Athena-6 actual. Your ride is approaching," said Osman over the radio.
Seconds later, a heavy truck along with a long shadow, cast in the bioluminescence of the plants, began to rumble into view as a convoy of vehicles approached up the road.
Sgt. Mathews motioned for her men to move in.
Standing fully cloaked and motionless so as not to disturb the ground around them, the three troopers waited for the two escort warthogs that lead the convoy to pass before jumping and grabbing onto the side of the dual axel armored truck that they were escorting.
"Azrael is Oscar Mike," said Willow a moment later.
Kilo five held the position for a few minutes longer, waiting for the convoy to pass fully before Brandon waved his hand and signaled them to move onto the road and fast march towards the URF compound. Alison took the lead while Naomi covered the back. They had maybe a half a mile to cover before they reached the compound, and Alison wanted to get there and get out as quickly as possible.
Typically the team wouldn't have opted for marching along the road like this, even with the advanced, almost undetectable optical camouflage ONI provided them with, but this mission was time sensitive. They'd just have to rely on their gear and hope that was enough.
Without thinking, Alison glanced over her shoulder to see if Brandon was doing alright, and immediately felt a pang of guilt. Not only was Brandon a capable soldier who didn't need her watchful eye, but her concern for him was beginning to detract from her focus. This was why relationships weren't allowed, wasn't it?
Alison searched her conscience. Did she regret how she felt for Brandon? No. And she always went with her gut. Anything else would eventually pass.
When they began to approach the main gate of the URF facility, they ducked off the main road to keep from crossing into the guard towers and spotlights that lit up the entrance, which would trigger their camo's one flaw; its inability to adjust to rapid change in light.
They dove into the alien fauna and blazed a path towards a less conspicuous section of the perimeter fence.
The Spartans approached the chain link fence slowly in the dark, followed closely by the ODSTs and Brandon. They stopped as two URF soldiers passed along the perimeter, walking only a couple of feet from them, and waited for them to pass.
Alison approached the fence slowly and pulled out a small can of liquid nitrogen. She sprayed down a section of the fence with it, and then drew her heated combat knife and touched it to the metal, which snapped like peanut brittle, exposing a hole for the troopers to enter.
Alison and Naomi went through first and checked both directions to ensure they were clear, before allowing the ODSTs and Brandon follow them through. Alison remembered from the briefing that the camp only had two perimeter patrols at any given time, one for the west side and one for the east, a serious lapse in judgment. All she had to do to buy them enough time to break into the camp without anyone noticing the fence was cut was dispatch that first patrol.
She drew her suppressed M6C pistol and motioned for Naomi to follow her. The two of them chased down the perimeter patrol, and put two low-velocity rounds into the backs of their heads without hardly making a sound. They caught the bloody bodies before they hit the dusty ground, dragged them to the side of a nearby building, and stashed them behind a forklift.
By this time Kilo-5 caught up to them. The Spartans both had blood on their hands, which showed up against their camouflage, but it still wasn't all that noticeable in the pitch-black of the night.
"Athena-6 actual, Kilo-5. Perimeter patrol is down," said Alison. "Proceeding to eliminate AA guns."
"Athena-6 actual copies all," responded Osman. "Proceed."
Without a moment's hesitation, the Mal threw down his rucksack and pulled out spray cans of C8 foaming explosive, as well as detonators. He passed four to Brandon and kept four for himself, then followed Naomi towards the western side of the camp. Brandon followed Alison towards the East.
Kilo-5's reconnaissance revealed the guns were left unmanned and unattended during most times of the day, so planting explosives on them without being detected could be done with relative ease, especially now that the base was mostly dormant.
Alison approached the first AA gun, situated inside a ring of sandbags not far from the wire, with caution and her silenced handgun raised. Brandon did the same, bringing up the rear with his rifle. She did a quick sweep of the area before kneeling down next to the matte OD green weapon and pulling out her can of C8. She coated the control console and computer targeting systems with a thick layer of explosive resin before Brandon threw her a remote detonator, which she quickly jammed into the volatile substance. The resin dried a moment later, causing the detonator to become active and synced to her HUD.
She smiled and glanced at Brandon's shimmering form. They did make a great team, but she didn't have any time to dwell on that now.
They dashed to the next AA gun and repeated the process. Before long Naomi, Mal, and Vaz did the same. Alison blinked an acknowledgment light on her HUD to confirm that the guns were rigged, which Naomi returned like clockwork, just like she did during all those cold days of training on Reach.
Once again Alison found herself pushing aside fond memories as she signaled Brandon. It'd been a long time since she'd been in combat with the people she trusted.
Brandon knelt down for one last radio call to the 'Law.
"Athena-6 actual, Kilo-5," said Brandon, "AA guns disabled. Proceeding to priority target. How copy?"
A moment of silence followed his sentence before a terse reply of, "Athena-6 actual copies all. Permission to execute."
Brandon stood and tapped Alison on the shoulder. Alison nodded, and they both took off silently for a warehouse on the other side of the compound. They were joined at the halfway point by another set of three ethereal shapes, outlined in green by her VISR.
They met at a small side door to the warehouse. Alison, Naomi, Brandon, Mal, and Vaz all stacked up in order along the warehouse wall and cracked their weapons. Each member of kilo-5 signaled they were ready by putting their hand on the shoulder of the trooper in front of them.
Alison heard Brandon take a deep audible breath, before finally giving the order.
"Execute, execute, execute," he said over the com.
Alison kicked the door in with her powerful armored foot, tearing it off its hinges, before leveling her SAW and charging through the doorway.
Brandon was hit by a wave of cold air as he and the rest of Kilo-5 followed Alison forward into the cryo storage warehouse. He was temporarily blinded by a gust of tiny, snow like ice crystals that blew in his face as he entered the dark room. He flipped on his rifle's flashlight and activated his armor's heating system, causing most of the particles that obscured his vision to melt from his visor.
What he found was an endless, unlit warehouse filled with nothing but AI storage devices, all emitting a sickly blue glue that dimly illuminated the floor, and the various cooling pipes that ran throughout the facility. Nothing seemed out of place, and Kilo-5's entrance didn't raise any visible alarm, so they kept moving.
He and the other members of Kilo-5 swept the dark room from top to bottom with their lights, searching for any URF personnel who might be hiding among the many racks of forerunner devices, but found none.
The warehouse was eerily silent other than the sound of cold air circulating throughout the facility. Brandon couldn't help but think this was far too easy. His bad luck hadn't struck yet, which was a record for any op he'd ever been on. If something bad didn't happen quickly his good fortune would inevitably become too good for the universe to handle.
Brandon deactivated his camo, and the rest of Kilo-5 followed suit. He withdrew a can of C8 and an electronic detonator.
I really shouldn't jinx myself before working with explosives, he thought.
"Alright troopers," said Brandon to the rest of Kilo-5. "Set your charges on all of the building's structural weak points, as well as any of the exposed devices. Naomi, provide security, and alert us if anyone comes in. Alison, link the detonators for synchronous activation. When that's done meet at the doorway. We'll retreat to the tree line, blow the warehouse and the AA guns, and signal Dev for extraction. "
Green lights illuminated his vision as they ran to complete their tasks.
Brandon and Alison immediately ran to a ceiling high stack of forerunner devices and began to coat the bottom of it in a double thickness layer of C8.
When the devices were thoroughly covered in resin, Alison reached into one of her Armor's many pockets and withdrew a detonator. She quickly armed it for remote detonation, set it to the proper frequency, and slammed it into the still hardening resin.
Brandon cracked a smile under his helmet. There was something undeniably sexy about a woman who could handle explosives.
Brandon nodded to her and dashed off to the next rack, but her hand caught his shoulder and stopped him.
She turned him around, forcing his eyes to meet the cold blackness of her visor, and reached out to swipe a Spartan smile across his faceplate. Then, without saying a word, she dashed off into the warehouse to complete her duty.
The action only took a couple of seconds, and it happened in the dark where no one could have seen it, but Brandon knew that was what a Spartan would consider a very public display of affection. Alison knew him and knew that a mission with this level of importance, with this many lives on the line, wasn't an easy thing for him to stomach, especially with his track record for survivability in the past.
He felt confidence swell inside him. With Alison watching his back, maybe he would make it out of this one alive.
He withdrew another can of C8 and knelt down to coat more forerunner devices, but stopped when a soft, red glow appeared behind him. Caught by surprise, he turned around quickly to a sitting position to see what it was.
His eyes fell upon the glowing red figure of a female AI avatar, projected from the ceiling in red lighting that was slowly fading into orange.
Dammit, he cursed. Did I activate one of the containment units?
He brought his rifle up to bear on it, only to feel stupid when the barrel phased through the AI's holographic forehead.
The AI smiled softly at his floundering. It's avatar was of a ridiculously tall woman, at least ten feet tall, wearing a kimono covered in a flowery pattern. Her eyes were ridiculously large, her hair was tied in a bun, and her face was heart shape that came to a small point at her chin.
The design of her avatar reminded Brandon of the five hundred-year-old Japanese film art style he believed was called anime. She seemed rather unconcerned with his hostility towards her and instead knelt down to meet him at eye level.
"Lieutenant David C. Brandon," said the AI. "UNSC Army 52nd Airborne division. Currently on temporary assignment with the Office of Naval Intelligence, and attached to Special Activities Division unit Kilo-5 aboard the UNSC Murphy's Law."
Brandon stared blankly at the AI. It couldn't know all that just by looking at him, right?
"How did you….." he said before his voice trailed off.
This was an enemy AI, something he wasn't used to encountering. This enemy might not be able to hurt him physically, but just like any UNSC AI it could pull any information it liked from thin air as long as it had a waypoint connection.
The AI winked at him knowingly and knelt down to meet him at his own level.
"Hello Lieutenant," she said sweetly. "what are you doing in my storage facility?"