Chapter 1: War Games
April 19th 2511 military calendar 08 00 hrs
ONI Training Facility. Planet Reach.
UNSC Marine Lieutenant Shaun M Gallagher tensed against the polynylon restraints which bound him to the inside of the metallic pod, which his squad mates affectionately nicknamed: the bullet-coffin. The pod was called an HEV or Human Entry Vehicle. It was made from several folds of heat and impact resistant steels, and was the latest in UNSC tactical technology. The HEV's were a quick deployment method designed to carry a single soldier with complete field kit and weapons to the surface of a target planet, from an orbiting ship. The pod itself; contained a vertically positioned harness for the soldier, with several equipment racks for weapons and gear. There was an LCD screen which displayed tactical information, as well as communications equipment, and a control console so that the soldier could manually control his descent speed, and trajectory in case of a guidance malfunction.
The developers who designed the HEV concept had originally recommended incorporating a shipboard AI program to coordinate the drop sequence, due to the potential of human error. However, the ever expensive Eriandus conflict caused tight budgets, which forced the designers to incorporate human controlled adjustment systems. It was part of the UNSC's goal to outfit the entire fleet with units of elite special ops troops who could be quickly deployed on enemy territories as a method of overwhelming, and extinguishing their targets resources, and organization in order to pave the way for a full assault. The name of this operation was the ODST project. The Orbital Drop Shock Troops were currently preparing for their third live jump. This time they had a mission objective.
In a makeshift garrison just west of the Big Horn River, a division of marines were protecting a mock relay station. All personnel were armed with stun ammunition, and had standing orders to use whatever means necessary to repel an attack. The ODSTs had to deliver a TAC nuke to the target and demolish it. The simulation's objective was to determine if it would be possible to use ODSTs to disable a planet's orbital defenses from the surface.
To the Hell-jumpers this mission was a cakewalk. Hit the dirt, own the jarheads, and blow the relay station. Simple enough, but in the past two drops they had lost four troops. They had either been disintegrated on entry, or were killed due to equipment failure. The platoon had been instructed that should an incident occur the mission would not be pulled. They were to compensate for any losses, and complete their objective. Their carrier ship: The UNSC Winston Churchill would also be sending a flight of Pelican drop-ships to provide recon and supplies. The birds would also be standing by to EVAC the ODSTs on completion of the mission.
Gallagher and his men were suited up in the UNSC's experimental ODST armor. The black, vest-like outer layer was reinforced Kevlar with heat resistant coating. Each troop also had set of guards which hugged their legs from just above the knee to the boots. The second layer was a set of grey fatigues.
The most intriguing part of the ODST's unique armor system was the body glove. Worn underneath the combat fatigues was a flexible nanofibre suit. It allowed full flexibility, but solidified when hit with a high velocity projectile. Microscopic nano-fibres would swell and contract around a bullet and absorb the round, rather than repel it. The body glove could also regulate the soldiers body temperature, and adjust to different environments. The entire armor, minus the 50 pounds of gear strapped to him weighed in at a "comfortable" 115 pounds not including his own body weight.
A black combat helmet with a polarized visor protected the ODSTs head. Like the armors outer layer it was coated with an ultra smooth light resistant laminate, which increased its strength and impact resistance. On the inside of the visor a complete heads up display was projected showing the trooper a GPS layout of the drop-zone, a mission timer and a squad indicator icon for each of his twelve teammates. There was also a motion tracker display, as well as a NAV-point system, which once planet side, would show him each squad member's position.
Gallagher was one of the many volunteers who signed up for the very hush-hush operation with ONI section 3. He and his squad were the newest fighting force being prepared for the United Nations Space Command. Their existence was completely top-secret and not even the highest-ranking joint chiefs knew about the ODST project. "Ok L.T. we're ready to commence countdown. Please confirm."
Gallagher bit his lip and exhaled loudly. "Roger that drop command. Do me a favor this time. Try not to flash-fry any more of my troopers." He said in a snide sarcastic tone.
"Uh, roger that. Inform your squad we're anticipating some rough weather over the big horn this morning so it may be a bumpy ride going down." Said the drop controller.
Sergeant Gallagher was about to respond when another voice interrupted the frequency. "Bumpy ride? Hey boss, maybe you'd like to strap your balls to a rocket propelled toaster and see if the ride is smooth!" barked a British accented voice over the squad freq.
"For Christ's sake Hargrove stow that shit or you'll be a debris trail from here to Kansas!" Barked Gallagher, chastising the cocky section corporal. "Command we're ready for drop."
"That's a ten-four. Drop commencing in t-minus thirty. Lay back, take a deep breath, and enjoy the ride." Reported the drop controller in a sarcastic tone.
"Roger that dropping in thirty." Gallagher swallowed hard as his mission timer outlined a thirty-second countdown. "Alright ladies you heard the man. Hell bound in thirty. Lock those jaws and clench those asses!" He said as he banged his fist against the inside of his HEV's bulkhead. His squad indicators all winked green in acknowledgement as several responding thumps echoed throughout the drop bay as the ODSTs prepared for planet-fall.
The last moments before a combat drop are something that can't be understood unless someone experiences one for themselves. One instant you're sitting in total darkness, save for the lights in your visor display. Instantly followed gut wrenching weightlessness which almost feels like forever. But just when you begin to panic from the helpless sensation you're falling so fast it feels like all your flesh trying to shrivel down the length of your body to your toes, as your body is literally fired out of a giant rifle. A giant rifle aimed at a planet.
Gallagher's thoughts were interrupted by precisely what they described. In an instant he was fired like a bullet from the safety of the Yorktown, and was suspended floating in his harness.
Gallagher keyed in a tactical display of the drop-zone. The LCD came to life showing him an overview of the planet Reach as he descended in silence toward the upper atmosphere. The sun was just rising to his left and Gallagher regarded the sight thoughtfully. It's amazing how there's always a beauty within mans brutality.
Suddenly the pod lurched violently as it hit the topmost layer of the planet. An intense screaming sound filled the capsule as the outside temperature began to climb to obscene levels. The display on his LCD changed to a topographical display highlighting his pod's elevation and position within Reach's stratosphere.
A secondary countdown appeared on his helmet's heads up display indicating there was one minute until the pod's chute would be deployed. I hate this part. He thought to himself as he ran a check of his inventory. His main weapon: a scoped MA5B assault rifle was a dream come true. It held a sixty round clip of armor piercing 10mm rounds capable of shredding a target like shooting a wet paper towel. His special issue MA5B had an extended barrel which allowed for neater bursts of fire. He glanced at the digital ammunition display built into the rifle and confirmed he had a full clip. He also double checked the safety to ensure it was on.
His standard issue sidearm was M6-D pistol. The magnum was a neat and powerful weapon which packed a decent caliber round with semi-explosive tips. The pistol, as well as the assault rifle had a remote feed to his HUD, which assisted his aiming accuracy. He also had a full set of fragmentation grenades, and mini charges strapped to his outer armor. Each troop was supposed to contain the firepower of three standard marines and the ODSTs did not take that ego booster lightly. On three consecutive occasions, his troopers had nearly blown the top on the project picking fights with marines in the junior ranks mess.
SLAM Gallagher's skull felt like a firecracker went off inside his helmet. The chute had deployed, interrupting his train of thought. A warning alarm sounded as the pod's velocity slowed dramatically. The LCD readout changed to show the platoons position around him. "Thompson, your pod is starting to fall out. Adjust your course by fifteen degrees port." Ordered Gallagher, studying the LCD. A green acknowledgement light winked beside Thompson's icon.
The trooper's pod had begun to correct its course trajectory when something bad happened. The pod started to skitter and sway back and forth within the formation and actually collided with an adjacent pod. They smashed together with such an intense impact that it caused their chutes to break away prematurely. "Shit! Oh my god, chute failure! What the fu…" Was the only transmission from Thompson's pod before the negative friction caused by the descent added to the entry speed turned both pods into flaming meteorites.
Gallagher could only watch in muted horror as two of his best troopers rocketed straight past his pod towards the planets surface like a pair of archer missiles. There was nothing he could do. By this time, both ODSTs would be reduced to a pile molten slag smeared throughout the inside of their pods. "Drop command this is Gallagher. Two troopers are down premature. Repeat, two down on entry." He said as he watched the pods explode over the morning sky, raining debris over a ten-kilometer stretch. "Roger." muttered a mournful voice in Gallagher's ear.
He didn't even have time to mourn their passing. Instantly after the transmission ended he was slammed against his harness as his chute broke away, and the pods retro engines began to regulate his final descent. It only took twenty seconds to vaporize those kids. God damn it! He thought as a chime announced his pod's groundside approach.
No time for sorrow. He was an ODST. The best of the best. He braced himself as his pod's retro rockets flared to slow his pod prior to touchdown. He snatched up his rifle from its rack and clicked the safety to off, and tensed up for the landing. He mentally went over his mission objectives. Rally the squad, pinpoint the target, remove all resistance, and wax the site. This wouldn't normally be an issue, but now he had a two-man gap in his squad. Not good. He would have to get creative, or hope that the contingent of marines waiting for them would be sloppy. Doubtful.
He felt the thump as his HEV hit the ground, and was nearly blinded as the hatch charges sent the armored door flying off its hinges and the bright morning light poured into the pod. He hit the ground running and took cover in a nearby cluster of trees, ducking under a hailstorm of stun-rounds from a .50 caliber turret somewhere below the rise where his pod landed.
A screaming filled the air followed by several thumps as the remainder of his squad hit the DZ. Their landing zones were spread over a half kilometer around his current position. It wouldn't be long before his team was rallied. But it wouldn't be long before that fifty tore them up either. "Hargrove: we have a surprise at the DZ. The enemy has a support unit gunning for us. Keep your heads down and make your way toward my marker. I'll provide a distraction." Said Gallagher as he aimed his MA5B toward the gunner's position and snapped off a responding burst of fire.
His distraction had worked for the most part. He could tell because the machine gun's rounds were more focused on his position. The stun replacement rounds were bouncing off the hull of his pod raining electrostatic sparks over his head.
Gallagher reached down to a trio of smoke canisters strapped to his right thigh. He carefully glanced over the ridge and counted a fire-team of at least six marines grouped up around the support gun. He yanked the pin from the canister and hefted it over the ridge as far as he could throw it. Within seconds a smoke screen erupted from the canister and clouded the entire ridge and surrounding area. "ODST six to squad, you're safe to approach my position smoke us up."
His squad's acknowledgement lights winked, and twelve yellow blotches showed up on his motion tracker as the squad neared his position. Gallagher crawled in the prone position to the crest of the hill and switched on his thermal imaging. Through the smoke he could easily make out six heat signatures. He brought up his rifle and thumbed the safety. He snapped off a series of responding fire and with satisfaction counted only two targets remaining.
Within moments his squad was formed up around Gallagher with their weapons facing their individual fields of fire.
"Let's get a snipe on that turret! Hargrove! Initiate offensive delta-six." Gallagher barked as he sprayed an additional burst of return fire through the smoke screen toward the turret. "The jarheads are wise to our DZ. We'll have to use our beta route."
twelve acknowledgment lights winked on his HUD and the squad instantly broke in half. Corporal Hargrove took his team of six south of the drop-zone, to wheel around the turret's position. They moved with remarkable speed through the brush each focusing on a pre-assigned direction to make sure no cocky marines were trying something foolish. "Standby six, we have a clear field of view to the turret. Awaiting green light over?" Hargrove whispered into his comm. Set.
Gallagher checked their position indicators to confirm that Hargrove's team was below the turret and completely unnoticed. "Do it." He said.
Two crisp shots from a sniper rifle rang out over the turret fire and the gun was instantly silenced. "Gunner down." Reported a recon trooper who was monitoring the situation with a range-finder. The gunner was rolling around on the ground, his body engulfed in blue bolts of electrostatic energy.
Within moments, the ODSTs were regrouped at the drop-zone collecting their gear. Support troops were geared up with their tripod guns, and anti-armor was locked and loaded. Gallagher patched a transmission to the Yorktown. "Command we are groundside and operational. Initial resistance neutralized." He reported.
'Acknowledged, move to phase two. And keep your eyes peeled. Looks like the marines are going to try to throw a wrench in your plans." Answered the drop controller.
He was right. One turret was the only resistance waiting at their DZ? It Didn't make any sense at all. The jarheads had probably set up an ambush somewhere. But luckily for Gallagher he had a few more aces up his sleeve. "This is hammer-six to Echo eighty eight, requesting a thermal sweep of the staging area over?" He said into his radio.
"This is Pelican echo eighty eight to hammer six, reading you five by five. We're on station and ready to paint some targets over." Said a cool and relaxed voice.
"Roger that Screw-man good to hear ya." Gallagher said as a pair of bulky yet maneuverable Pelican drop-ships roared over his squads position. The Pelicans were a ground troops best friend. They were equipped for quick supply drops, recon flights, and even air support if things got hairy during a dust off. They had a dark forest green camouflage pattern, and short stocky fuselage. They banked west and went into a vertical climb as they began their thermal scan. "Hammer six looks like you've got a surprise party waiting for you on the other side of the Big Horn. Count at least forty bogies over."
"Roger that eighty eight. Requesting archer strike on bogie positions over?" Said Gallagher with a hint of malice in his voice.
"Roger that Six, Echo eighty eight fox-two!" Said the pilot, as the flight of Pelicans turned toward the target. Gallagher's HUD showed a salvo of simulated archer missiles streak from eighty eight's wingman and impact with the target area.
"That's a confirmed kill six. Enemy has been informed and acknowledge the hit. You're all clear to the target. Keep an eye out for any survivors." Without the need for instruction, the ODSTs were on their feet and formed up for movement. The Pelicans wheeled back toward the squad's position. "Screw-man is ready for vehicle deployment. Clear the drop-zone." Reported the pilot, as the Pelican flight made their way toward the DZ.
Ten minutes later The ODSTs were on the move. Six were tearing across the landscape on ATV's and six were loaded up in a pair of Warthogs. Gallagher took his fire-team in on foot toward the relay station with the Warthogs on both flanks. Shaun always insisted on walking point to prove to his men he wouldn't give an order he wouldn't carry out himself. That and it was bad form to look like a chicken shit in an ODST outfit.
He had decided it would be best to approach the target area through the dense foliage surrounding the Big Horn. This way his men could slip through the forest silently. Enabling them to sneak around any enemies, as well as take them down unsuspecting.
Gallagher slammed his break pedal, and pulled the convoy to a halt. Before them was a wide section of the Big Horn River. On the other side was a tree covered hill which looked like a perfect piece of real-estate.
"Alright, let's take that hill with a pair of scouts. The rest of you follow my lead. Keep your eyes peeled." He said over the radio.
A pair of ATV's carrying Hargrove and a recon troop sped off and splashed through the river. In a matter of moments they were at the top of the rise under plenty of cover.
Hargrove set up his sniper rifle and aimed toward the other side of the rise. In a small valley was a medium sized garrison, and just beyond that their target. A massive communications dishes which was coordinating Reach's orbital defenses. There were six sniper towers situated around the compound. Hargrove grinned. Damn noobs.
"Count six." Said the spotter. "Objective spotted. Fire….fire….fire…." BANG….BANG! rang out Hargrove's rifle. "Count five…they're on to us L-T."
Gallagher winked his acknowledgement and gunned his warthog. He blasted right through the river and straight toward the target area. He glanced to the passenger seat at the trooper carrying the spherical TAC Nuke. "get ready." He said
The remaining ATV's sped past Gallagher's Warthog, and took up positions on either side of the relay station. They dismounted and leveled a pair of jackhammers, aimed directly at the compound.
The second warthog slid to a halt beside Gallagher's and the driver and passenger jumped out and went prone. The support gunner on the back of the vehicle didn't hesitate before filling the area with suppressing fire. Gallagher's gunner quickly followed suit filling the garrison grounds with fire.
"Bogies are pinned L-T. Move it!" Said Hargrove as he downed a pair of counter-snipers who were positioned on the garrison roof.
"Open up those rocks!" Yelled Gallagher as he revved his Warthog. A pair of simulated SPNKR rounds screamed into the midst of the battle, confirming a devastating hit. Several marines charged out of the garrison blaring their assault rifles. The sad part was, they didn't even know what they were shooting at. They were firing blindly in all directions in a state of complete and utter panic. They didn't even notice the Warthog as it smashed through the wall of the relay station which was situated just east of the garrison.
The bomb carrier didn't even miss a beat. He ran to the base of the relay dish and began keying in the detonation sequence on the TAC nuke. "Bomb armed…." He announced as an electrostatic round impacted with his left shoulder. "DAMN IT!" Yelled the soldier as he went down.
Gallagher didn't have time to think. He dove on the TAC nuke and keyed the detonation cycle. A chime sounded over the comms frequency signaling the victory. "Hammer six to squad: Bomb planted." He said.
Two soldiers. This training exercisecost them two good men. When he should have been preparing to get wasted with his men in celebration of their first victory, he could only think of one thing. How the hell was he supposed to tell their families? What was he supposed to say? I apologize sir, but your son died in action doing his duty? There were some elements of command he would never come to grips with.
"That was some fine work Lieutenant." Said a voice. Gallagher turned to see a tall slender man dressed in officer whites.
"Colonel Ackerson…Sir!" He said as he snapped his best salute.
"Something's come up son. We've received a priority one our listening posts in the Sol system. Get yourself sorted out and report to ONI briefing as soon as possible."
"Sir?"
"Just report to briefing as soon as possible" Said Ackerson in a stern voice.