Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the Halo or Mass Effect universe.
Chapter 3 - Combat Ready
Krotok collapsed on his bed after a long day of suffering the hated base commander's undivided attention. It was physically and emotionally draining. The batarian wondered for a brief moment how experienced soldiers could keep their emotions in check so well. He envied them as he wished that he could possess such an invaluable skill. He often felt his knuckles itch when within the presence of his superior, longing to know the feeling of bashing the batarian's skull in like an improvised warhammer from ancient times.
But Krotok knew better than that. He only had a few months left before he could be covertly transported back to Khar'shan, back to his family. The mercenary sighed to himself sadly; considering the actions he took to provide for his beloved family. It was no secret that the Batarian Hegemony bombarded its citizens with endless lies and propaganda, hiding them from the grasp of foreign media.
But out here, there existed no such censors. Krotok was free to browse on the extranet and see for himself what the rest of the galaxy thought of his people. It ached him to no end to witness the sheer hatred and fear that other species held for the Batarians. There was no respect, not like how the Hegemony described it. In Batarian society, slavery was normalized and often times the Hegemony cried discrimination whenever other societies called them out on such practices. Krotok at first stood with the Hegemony like the loyal citizen he was. But unlike most, he was smart enough to keep an open mind, to see situations from other perspectives.
The Batarian clenched his jaw as he thought of the horrors that the slaves had to endure. Sensless torture, unending forced labour and far, far worse. He took pity on them, and wished he could do something. But Krotok knew that he was powerless. At the end of the day, as horrific and morally obtuse his line of work can be, he knew that this was for his family. What choice did he have? There existed no other opportunities that would allow him to properly provide.
The mercenary spared a glance around his barracks. There were four sets of bunk beds for his eight subordinates arranged like the chairs of a dinner table. Since Krotok was the leader of this motley bunch, he had the luxury of sleeping in a single bed furthest from the doorway.
He frowned and closed his eyes. Security within the base has been increased ever since they've gotten their hands on that mech… thing. He was privy to some of the knowledge the techs have acquired. The weapons still haven't been touched until they can get specialists on hand.
But the armor… the alloys that composed it were apparently far more sophisticated than anything they've ever seen. It possessed a level of strength more commonly observed with armored vehicles and allegedly a heat resistance rated to withstand low level plasma. He gawked once he began to read the reports. That wasn't even from a hands on analysis. In fact, they couldn't even get through the physical barrier with the basic tools they had been given. That was the shocking thing. No one in the galaxy had been able to produce a physical barrier. This technology was revolutionary! Especially since there are absolutely zero traces of eezo emitted from the mech.
He smiled to himself as thoughts ran through his head of batarians clad in almost impervious plates of armor and superior barriers crushing all opposing resistance.
Maybe things won't be so bad after-
The peace within Krotok's room was suddenly replaced with a torrent of weapons fire and the shrill sound of the base's alarm following immediately after.
The Batarian mercenary immediately shot up from his bed, the adrenaline pumping through his bloodstream immediately culled all feelings of exhaustion. Krotok grabbed his assault rifle along with some thermal clips and rushed to the front of the room, scowling as the rest of his men took a little longer than expected to join him.
"The subject has broken free in engineering. Repeat, intruder in engineering. All units respond."
Krotok felt his heart skip a beat, he knew what that meant. Judging by the expressions of fear and concern, he could tell the rest of them knew too.
"We're so fucked," muttered one of the younger mercenaries. "We are so, so fucked."
"Hey!" Yelled another one. "Quit your yammering. This thing is alone in a base full of over two hundred of us. No way is one mech getting through that!"
Krotok's squad visibly calmed down as realization sunk in and the mercenary leader himself chuckled. Damn him for worrying so much. It was just one mech. They had enough combined firepower here to wipe out a battalion sized force, no way is one of anything getting through that.
"Alright, let's check it out. It'll probably be over by the time we get there anyways. The mech wasn't even armed in the first place remember?"
Nods and murmurs of agreement resulted in a light smile from Krotok. Without another word, the Batarians filed out of the room with their leader bringing up the rear.
As the gunfire continued though, Krotok felt his concerns return, shouldn't the troops already on hand have dealt with the thing by now?
No, Krotok thought; he remembered the heavy armor on the mech when he first saw it. It will take more than a few rounds to bring it down. Still, without a weapon it shouldn't be too much of a problem.
Then, as if the very universe took humour in contradicting all of Krotok's thoughts, he heard a gut-wrenching scream pierce through the cacophony. It was followed by another, and then another. Krotok's heart began to beat fast, his breathing became more shallow as they approached the door that would lead them to this... menace.
The rest of his men felt the same, gripping their rifles so hard that their knuckles began to turn white.
No one found the strength or courage to speak as the screams and gunfire continued.
The batarian felt himself zone out, staring at the door, wondering what he will see on the other side.
All Krotok could do was nod to his team, and they made their way through the door.
The sight that followed, Krotok knew he would take to the grave. Scattered around the large room was anywhere from two to three dozen corpses. They were twisted and broken in horrific ways. Bones were shattered, ligaments and tendons were torn apart and limbs were separated from torsos. Brain matter and bone fragments were sprinkled all over the floor like confetti and blood ran everywhere like a gorey river.
It was a scene straight out of Krotok's nightmares, to see his brethren butchered as if they were bound before a pack of hungry, ravenous vorcha; completely helpless as they were ripped apart. The batarian realized in that short moment that they didn't just enter a combat zone, no, they entered a slaughterhouse.
And Krotok and his brethren were the domestic animals.
Something else caught his attention; a blur. He turned his head to the source and felt a shiver run down his spin.
Standing in the center of the room, as massive and hulking as ever, was the mech. For a moment it seemed to stand still like a statue, unmoving and unwavering, as if it was displaying its power; a judge that got to decide who lived and who died. Krotok stared wide eyed at the golden visor, his brain moving a million miles a minute.
How did the mech set itself free? Who initiated hostilities first? If it was the mech, why? Why did it automatically assume the Batarians to be hostile?
Why? Why? Why?
He continued to stare, realising that time seemed to be moving slower than it should.
He could have sworn that he felt a pair of eyes scanning him from beneath that visor.
The shivers increased in intensity.
None of the other batarians seemed to have felt the same way; they opened fire... and then it moved. The giant mech moved so quickly that it was almost as if it froze time and then edited itself out of that particular frame. The armoured behemoth then rematerialized, as if by means of magic, in the middle of three of the survivors showing on display the true horrors it was capable of to Krotok.
The mech moved too quickly to follow, but Krotok was clearly able to see what became of the three victims. The first one's arm came off, prompting another blood curdling scream which sent an unconscious shiver down the mercenary's spine. The second one's head just… exploded, eliciting a shower of blood, bone fragments and brain matter. The third one was sent flying into the air before he collapsed in a heap fifteen meters away.
Nothing that massive should have the right to move so quickly, to be so lithe.
It all happened in less than half a second. Krotok could scarcely register it. It was as if they were all slain at the exact same time. The thing disappeared again, and three of the dead man switches turned off, signifying the deaths of three of his friends.
The third body from the previous group hit the floor after they died.
The Batarian's four eyes widened. Before the third body even hit the floor, the mech-no the demon slaughtered three of his friends within a heartbeat as if the effort needed to end their lives was equivalent to Krotok squishing an insect beneath his boot.
Krotok knew that if he didn't run he would die at the hands of whatever hellish creature was sent to punish them.
This wasn't no normal mech, this wasn't just a mere killing machine. It was an unholy blight brought upon them by some angry, sadistic deity that wishes to see all life suffer.
How can mere mortal sentient beings ever hope to drive off such a horror? Krotok was confident but he wasn't stupid; he knew a one sided battle when he saw one.
He turned around, but not after a moment's hesitation.
He looked at the remainder of his friends with sad eyes. He cared for them… but he cared for his family more. He wanted to see them again, not die a horrific death on some backwater planet in the middle of nowhere.
He hesitated for a second as more of his friends began to scream in horror and excruciating pain. Krotok muttered an apology, before he turned and ran.
He ran as fast as he could, ignoring his fellow mercenaries as they pushed in the opposite direction to meet their doom. The base was in complete chaos so no one questioned Krotok, no one even cared. The sounds of gunfire and screams took up their undivided attention. No one cared as Krotok ran out into the courtyard, past the main gate and into the forest.
Krotok himself didn't care anymore for his fellow batarians, and didn't care as the rest of the dead man switches for his team blinked out of existence one by one. He did care however when one of the omnitools of his dead friends, through means unknown, turned on as if the universe wished to taunt and shame him for his decision.
Krotok collapsed to the ground and began to sob uncontrollably as the sickening screams of agony and gunfire filled the confines of his helmet.
Knowledge was power, and one's own mind was the greatest weapon one can possess. It was a concept that was drilled into his head time and time again. To understand the psychology, habits, tactics, biology, strengths, weaknesses and so on about one's enemy would give you an edge. A competent soldier could use the information to craft strategies and effectively apply them to breaking an opponent's resolve and crushing all opposing resistance.
He's fought the Covenant in thousands of engagements, utilizing countless methods of combating them. His methods were ruthless, efficient, creative and effective. He's killed his enemies with bullets, explosives, fire, plasma, numerous chemicals, radiation, asphyxiation, drowning (not just with water mind you), strangulation…
The entire list would be too long to write down.
In one case the Spartan recalled pulverizing the head of a Jiralhanae with a jackhammer, a mere construction tool. The memory brought a rare smile to Yuri's usually mechanical demeanor.
Noble Six intends to do the same with this new enemy; figure out their strengths and weaknesses and what makes them tick.
Afterall, they deserve nothing less. That much became clear once the Spartan hacked their security cameras and witnessed what was happening outside of this complex.
Human slaves…
They were beaten and tortured, put through forced labour… subjected to worse. The latter was something not even the Covenant did. Alongside the humans were two other alien species he's never seen before. The first one was eerily similar to humans, except for the fact that they had blue skin and strange tentacle protrusions on their heads instead of hair. Of this species, only what appeared to be females seemed to be present, and they seemed to be around as numerous as the humans.
The second species seemed to vaguely resemble a cross between a Sangheili and a Kig-Yar. It was noticeably taller than the present humans, though quite lanky. There were only a handful of them present.
Yuri felt a brief spike of anger before he quelled it. No, letting emotions control him would be foolish. Instead he would do what he was trained to do. Yuri would focus and hone that anger into a spear, driving it into the heart of his enemy with the precision of a scalpel, yet with the brute force of a battering ram. He would use that emotion as a fuel, a drive.
Unlike the Spartan IIs, the Spartan IIIs had anger to motivate them, anger towards the Covenant; the alien menace that slaughtered their families in ways so horrific that it would not be fit to be written, the alien menace that glassed their homes and took everything from them. The result was an elite force of super soldiers that fought with a brutality that even the Spartan IIs did not possess. The more experienced and older super soldiers fought with a mechanical precision almost at all times. They only occasionally expressed a cold anger towards their enemy.
But the Spartan IIIs always fought with a cold fury guiding them. They were brutal yet precise.
Yuri however? He was worse than even that, brutal even among the Spartan IIIs. These aliens didn't know that… but they will.
He would treat them just like how he would treat the Covenant.
His eyes quickly glanced around the room, the aliens were going about their usual business. They were either observing the motionless Spartan from afar or busy on their consoles.
That would change.
His plan was simple; break out, fight his way to wherever his equipment is being held, wipe out the remainder of this base, and then free the hostages.
Simple brute force, sometimes that's all that is needed.
Noble Six accessed the room's lights using MJOLNIR, and then easily switched them off.
Immediately, the night vision in Yuri's visor turned on, casting the dark room in a bright green hue. Six's augmentations allow for 'natural' night vision far beyond a normal human, but Six wouldn't abandon the advantage of having night vision built into his suit. Every little advantage counted, it was an important lesson he learned during his training.
The aliens were clearly confused, looking back and forth around the room aimlessly. It seemed that their night vision wasn't too impressive, likely not much better than human capabilities.
"What the hell happened?"
"Get the back up generators on!"
"Where are the technicians?"
They muttered and growled to each other angrily as they tried to access their consoles to contact additional personnel.
Too late.
Six flexed his hyper dense muscles.
'CLINK'
The metal shackles snapped effortlessly and Six could feel his lips being tugged upwards as all of the aliens stopped and stared fearfully in the direction of the sounds of metal snapping like twigs.
"W-what was that?"
"C-call b-backup!"
Six stepped forward, adding weight to his steps as the over fifteen hundred pound super soldier clenched his fists, prompting his gauntlets to groan slightly from the ludicrous pressure.
Each monstrous 'thump' prompted the humanoids to jump in fear.
It was when their fear became almost palpable enough for the hyper lethal to smell that he struck. He lunged forward towards the closest alien, quicker than a cobra and with all the subtleness of a stalking puma.
The giant of a man crossed the ten meter distance in the time it would take someone to blink.
He grabbed its arm and pulled.
The blood curdling scream that followed would send the others over the edge in a sort of uncontrollable, primal fear. They would be less coordinated, more likely to make mistakes. Psychological warfare was something that all Spartans were taught to master, and Yuri was intimate with its usefulness on the battlefield.
He didn't even finish the alien as it collapsed, only letting it scream and scream and scream.
He switched his attention over to another trio of aliens and let loose with punches and elbows that shattered bones and splattered blood and brain matter everywhere.
It was at that point that the survivors panicked and began to blind fire around the room in an attempt to pick off the invisible Spartan. The weapons in question didn't sound powerful, but there was one property about them that surprised the Spartan.
He couldn't dodge the projectiles.
A Spartan's reflexes after augmentation clocked in at around twenty milliseconds on average. Unfathomably fast for a normal human to comprehend. But, clad in MJOLNIR MK VI, that same Spartan's reaction time is decreased by a factor of five; meaning 4 milliseconds. With this speed, Six could dodge even hyper quick twenty sixth century bullets travelling at a few thousand meters per second at closer ranges.
But that was at the age of twelve, immediately after receiving his augmentations. As a Spartan got older and became more accustomed with their augmented bodies, their physical abilities would dramatically increase. As it stands right now, Yuri's reflexes in armor are actually faster by a half a millisecond.
To a normal human, the difference would be non existent. But to a Spartan that is capable of perceiving such short instants of time, the difference is quite dramatic; a twelve point five percent improvement.
But Noble Six couldn't even react to these new weapons; their projectiles simply moved too fast.
The lights suddenly turned back on, the green hue displayed on Six's visor immediately disappeared and a shrill alarm pierced the cacophony of gunfire.
Several new soldiers rushed through the door; reinforcements.
There goes the element of surprise.
As some of the projectiles hit his shields, Yuri noticed another strange phenomenon. The kinetic energy that these projectiles hit with was comparable and, dare he say, even slightly less than that of a MA5D.
As the Spartan laid into his enemies with his fists, he thought about the logic behind that. Kinetic energy increased exponentially with velocity but only linearly with mass. So for these new weapons to pack less of a punch than what would be expected would suggest that the projectiles fired would have to be tiny, sand grain sized if anything.
So that would mean not much stopping power but excellent armor penetration. After all, there was a reason why tanks used sabot rounds to defeat armor. Firing long, slender darts of dense material at high velocity increased the chances of armor penetration since all of that kinetic energy would be focused on a very small surface area.
Yuri rushed forward and backhanded one of the humanoids, exploding its head like a watermelon. He then continued his rampage, slaughtering another two dozen of the creatures, making sure that they live long enough to scream out their agonies for their friends to hear.
More reinforcements rushed through the door, damn.
The Spartan quickly analyzed his new enemies, nine of them. One of the soldiers hesitated and stared at Six's visor, four eyes unknowingly locking with two.
A few milliseconds later and the Spartan lunged towards a trio of hostiles and brutally mutilated them, followed by another group.
Yuri switched tactics; he reached out and violently wrenched one of the weapons out of the hands of its owner, breaking both wrists and dislocating the shoulders.
He pointed the weapon at it and held down the trigger.
The gun's recoil wasn't even noticeable to the Spartan, but he raised an eyebrow as a thin blue film seemed to envelope the creature, deflecting a handful of projectiles before the armor was overwhelmed and the alien collapsed in a heap.
A non physical energy shield? One that only activated upon contact with high velocity projectiles?
Oh well, he'd take every advantage he could get. It was comforting to know that his energy shields were indeed superior. A nice change of pace from fighting heavily shielded zealots, ultras and chieftains. In the previous case the former often equalled the Spartan in physical capabilities whereas the latter would greatly overpower him in sheer strength whilst being several weight classes above even the massive Spartan.
Not here though.
Six switched targets, dropping two more with well placed headshots. He marvelled at how fast these new weapons were, he didn't have to lead his shots. Not that he had to really lead shots with UNSC armaments at such close ranges, but still.
The Spartan's weapon quickly ran out of ammo, prompting a frown. Since he was in the middle of a firefight, there was no time to figure out how to reload the weapon. So the Spartan settled for the next best thing; he threw the weapon like a hatchet at one of the aliens. The rifle spun end over end before smashing into the humanoid's skull, killing it outright.
He lunged to the side, avoiding another torrent of weapons fire; he may not be able to avoid the projectiles, but he can definitely move fast enough to outrun his opponents' ability to track him.
Spartan B312 watched as the soldiers tried to readjust their aim. They moved so slow, as if they were submerged in jello. To someone not used to possessing such reflexes, watching them move so painstakingly slow would be maddeningly irritating.
Yuri rushed forward and shattered a skull with an elbow before spinning around with a vicious heel kick that sent one of the aliens sailing across the room.
He laid into the remaining dozen or so survivors, executing them with superhuman strength and speed and a level of hand to hand mastery that even most Spartans did not possess.
The screams stopped, but the alarm continued. The Spartan quickly picked up a similar weapon and inspected it with a practiced eye. All Spartans are masters at operating any weapon in the field, and Yuri quickly found the mag release on the weapon.
The weapon ejected a small cylindrical piece of red hot metal.
Interesting, the magazine was a heat sink of some sort. So was the ammunition simply integrated into the gun somehow? It would certainly support Yuri's original theory about these new weapons firing incredibly tiny projectiles at high velocities. Such a weapon could fire off thousands of projectiles before needing to be reloaded. Plus, launching a projectile at any size at such high velocities would produce a large amount of thermal energy.
Without a heat sink, these weapons would just melt from the high heat.
The Spartan's thoughts concluded after only a split second before he grabbed a dozen or so of the heat sinks and stuffed them into his utility pouches.
He scanned the room within just a few milliseconds, put a few rounds into a wounded survivor, and then made his way through the room's only exit.
Yuri had the satisfaction of running into another octet of hostiles, they hesitated. Clearly they hadn't expected the Spartan to appear so quickly before them. The Batarians (though he didn't know their species' name) had never imagined anything humanoid to be able to move so quickly.
Their hesitation killed them, not that it would matter if they were expecting the Spartan anyways.
Yuri's weapon barked, and half of the group dropped before the aliens could even register what was happening.
A second later, and the rest left the realm of the living as broken and twisted corpses. It wasn't fair. How could these aliens, whose physical capabilities were similar to that of regular humans, ever hope to compete with a super soldier that could lift thousands of pounds, perceive their movements in slow motion, outsmart them every which way, and has a seemingly limitless amount of combat experience at his disposal?
Simple, they can't.
It wasn't fair, and Yuri wanted to keep it that way.
As the Spartan quelled more and more of the aliens, he realized just how lacking this new enemy is in terms of training. They were so unorganized; rushing forward in small groups rather than massing together and increasing their chances of being able to put up a fight. There was no discipline, communication or leadership. Even though the supposed leader of this compound was already killed, (he just so happened to be the first unfortunate victim) the Spartan would have assumed that someone else would have taken command.
A competent force would have realized that close quarters combat was suicidal, and instead would have pulled out their troops and surrounded the building, keeping the Spartan boxed in before heavier reinforcements arrived. But they didn't
It just made Yuri's job even easier.
He was close now, the engineering room that contained his equipment was around the corner. He memorized the path using surveillance footage he managed to hijack using MJOLNIR prior to his breakout. The armored behemoth crossed the thirty or so meter distance eerily quick. He took a left and gave the armored door a quick glance over. Like the rest of this compound it was a dull, gun metal grey. It looked more resilient than what he's seen so far; it means that they recognize the value of the hyper lethal's equipment.
Yuri didn't even bother to wait and see if it would open for him. He plunged his massive armored gauntlets into the solid metal. The sound of metal being pulverized was deafening, despite the constant screech of the alarm.
Clad in MJOLNIR MK-VI, a Spartan has the very real power to shred metal apart like paper mache. Yuri's augmented muscles flexed, and the door screeched in protest as the Spartan slowly pried it open. Sparks cascaded over his armored form and from within, Six could hear more of the aliens cowering in fear. Once the entrance was wide enough for Six to fit his bulk through, he rushed in, allowing his shields to take the automatic fire, and opened up with his own weapon.
The rounds killed two of the aliens hiding behind an overturned metal table in the middle of the small room. A third alien rushed at him with what appeared to be some sort of orange/yellow blade protruding from his wrist.
Curious, it reminded the Spartan of the wrist mounted energy daggers that higher ranking Sanghielli would come equipped with. If the two shared any similarities, then getting hit would prove to be fatal, even for a fully armored Spartan.
The Spartan jabbed the humanoid in the face. The strike was too quick for the alien to register, and while weak by Spartan standards, the strike caved in the alien's skull, killing it instantly.
With the immediate threats neutralized, Yuri quickly found his equipment tucked away at the back of the room on a table. He grabbed his MA5D, magnum, plasma swords, Spartan laser, plasma rifle, grenades, ammo, as well as some miscellaneous equipment.
After stocking up on more heat sinks, Yuri decided that it would be best to save the more familiar weapons for when he finds himself in a difficult situation; no telling when he'll get the chance to rearm.
The Spartan was on the move immediately; staying in one spot for too long was a fool's gambit. He moved quick enough that the enemy couldn't quite pinpoint his position, they made the mistake of spreading out, widening their search but making themselves more vulnerable.
It was a response that Yuri predicted well; he was rarely wrong about his enemy.
Their surveillance systems were useless as well. Yuri's armor system came equipped with a small jammer, powerful enough to disrupt small electronics within an acceptable radius. This meant that his enemy couldn't even keep track of him using their surveillance.
Cameras, communication suites and omnitools failed when within range of the Spartan.
Omnitools, yet another weakness that can be exploited.
It seemed that the enemy used these devices for all manner of function. But most important to Six right now; they used them as IFF tags as well as a means of sending distress signals.
As such, the hyper lethal activated the distress signals on the devices of yet another group of dead aliens that he easily ambushed. These signals would lead the aliens to his position, which is exactly what the Spartan wanted.
He learned quickly that this particular enemy equipped their troops with deadman switches, a quick search of their equipment manifest proved that to be true. It would make stealth against this new enemy very difficult.
Now that he was privy to this knowledge, the Spartan wouldn't normally use this trick to ambush his opponent since they could flag the location of the distress signals as a potential ambush point on the basis of the activation of the deadman switches. But, on their turf they'd assume that the Spartan wouldn't risk ambushing them in such a risky environment and be long gone by the time they reach the distress signals. Meaning that it would either be easier for him to directly ambush his opponents if he chose, or easier for them to walk into the surprise he has planned for them.
Thinking quickly, the Spartan produced a thin fiber optic wire that he procured from a box of random miscellaneous supplies and ran it along the entrance that he came from, tying the two ends to foot long pieces of rebar that he hammered into the metal floor bare handed with the strength only a Spartan can possess. Before tightening the wires, the Spartan slipped two grenades that he jacked from a corpse in between the wire and metal. He left enough room for the wire to just keep the grenades in place, but when one of the humanoids tripped over the wire, it will tighten around the grenades and push the activation buttons. The door would automatically open, revealing the wire, but it would be too late for them to react, if they even saw the extremely thin wire in the first place.
It was a primitive but effective trap, not the first time Yuri would be putting trip wire based traps to good use.
He worked quickly and gracefully. The super soldier was on the move in less than ten seconds. His weapon and head was on a swivel, checking corners and doorways quick enough that the movements would be nothing but blurs to an outside observer.
He hated hallways, and this place seemed to have no shortage of them. There were countless rooms on both sides in front and behind him. In each of those rooms could be a hostile, someone could throw a grenade out the door or stick their rifle around the corner. The smarter ones would wait for Yuri to pass and attack him from behind. Six had no time to check the rooms, so he pressed on.
Yuri glanced at his motion tracker, and bolted around the corner.
He lunged and grabbed one of the soldiers by the throat, effortlessly hoisting him into the air in front of his comrades; a living shield.
Six fired off his rifle one handed. The shots still landed true with super natural accuracy. Three punctured skulls later and the Spartan snapped the neck of his captive, unceremoniously dropping the lifeless bag of meat.
The super soldier heard a pair of distant heavy thumps and nodded to himself. Traps and casualties in multiple areas of the base would convince his enemy that he wasn't alone. Best case scenario they might suspect this whole thing to be an inside job and start suspecting each other. If the Spartan could sow distrust among his enemy, then all the better.
The next minute or so was uneventful, Yuri didn't detect any enemies as he made his way past room after room.
They were wising up.
Following along his predetermined path, the hyper lethal reached his exit; a sort of intersection with three possible hallways that branched off from the entrance. This place sort of reminded Yuri of civilian interplanetary docking bays. There was a small reception desk and several scanning devices designed to detect unwanted foreign elements.
Yuri cautiously approached the door that would lead him to the outside world. He knew that they were waiting for him; his motion tracker picked them up. There were dozens of them no doubt. Six checked his weapons and equipment, bracing himself for what was to come.
The door opened.
Immediately, the super soldier was met with a tsunami of automatic fire, it was intense and already a third of Yuri's shields were depleted by the time he dove for cover. He managed to catch a glimpse of his opposition.
The outside was some sort of courtyard, shipping containers and pieces of scrap littered the area and made it look like a paintball course. The several dozen aliens were hunkered down behind hastily placed concrete barriers. Some of them were set up in the windows of the small two story buildings that sat on the outskirts of the courtyard. Beyond even that, atop the concrete walls, sat sharpshooters waiting to pick off Yuri should he attempt to return fire.
This would be considered a dire situation for even the toughest and most experienced of ODST teams. But for a Spartan, it wasn't much. After fighting the Covenant alone for years and years, after fighting the ravenous Flood and hyper advanced Prometheans, the Spartan felt… relaxed. As if this new enemy was so inconsequential that they mattered as much as the ants he walked upon.
But Yuri shook those thoughts from his head; no matter how weak an enemy seemed, underestimating them was just asking to be killed.
He's seen enough Unggoy turn themselves into living bombs to know that better than most.
They knew that he was difficult to kill and skilled, that made them afraid of him. But they didn't fully know the Spartan's capabilities, and they weren't going to live to tell about it.
The Spartan readied his weapon… and suddenly faded from existence. The light around him was bent and manipulated in such a way that he appeared to be nothing more than a faint shimmer.
Optical cloaking.
Back when Six was clad in his MkV armor, such capabilities were only available to him if he could acquire a Covenant cloaking device. But after the war, UNSC technology began to accelerate rapidly, even more so than during the war when humanity was using every possible trick to combat the Covenant.
Humanity's understanding of optical camouflage became sufficient enough to seamlessly integrate it into the armor worn by Spartan IIs and IIIs, resulting in a powerful ability that the Spartans always had available to them at all times.
Unfortunately, since the ability draws power from his fusion reactor and not an external power source like with a Covenant cloaking device, it takes longer for the ability to recharge.
Still, it was better than nothing.
The second the suppressive fire stopped, the Spartan silently slinked out of the entrance and into the light. He wasn't fired upon, indicating that these aliens might not have much experience with cloaking technology.
He moved quickly, but not so quickly as to disturb the cloaking technology. Despite his mass, the Spartan didn't make a sound as he approached one of the aliens.
The one carrying the shoulder mounted anti tank missile.
There were at least a half dozen or so small two story buildings on either side of the courtyard. But one of them really caught Yuri's attention. Closest to the main structure on his right was a small warehouse-like building with its door wide open.
It was open enough for the Spartan to see what was inside.
Munitions. Lots of munitions. He cringed; these things had the intelligence of a brain dead Unggoy. How could they have forgotten to close off and protect their armory? A mistake like that in the UNSC would result in severe consequences. Then again, no one in the UNSC would be so mentally deficient that they'd commit such a transgression.
Still, it was stupidity that he could capitalize on.
He drew closer, listening in on their conversation as he did so.
"Think we got him?"
"Nah, tough bastard hit the deck just in time."
"No matter, just gotta keep him boxed in until-"
The hyper lethal lunged forward, he ripped the launcher out of the alien's hand. It screamed in pain as shoulders and wrists were dislocated. The other creatures, shocked and terrified at the sudden appearance of a 7 foot tall walking tank, turned around to try to meet the threat.
Or at least they tried.
Six shouldered the weapon, aimed, and fired. The missile shot out of the tube, about as fast as what the Spartan would expect from a rocket, and made its way to the target.
Yuri turned the empty launcher into an improvised baseball bat and swung it at the closest alien. The weapon, despite being made out of several strong alloys, shattered once it impacted the alien's head. The four eyed humanoid didn't even fully turn around before quite literally being decapitated.
The Spartan quickly reached for one of the concrete barriers and picked up the over five hundred pound object as if it weighed no more than a pillow. He held it out in front of him like a shield just before the rocket impacted.
There was a blinding flash and thunderous bang. MJOLNIR instantly polarized the visor and turned off the audio receptors to protect Yuri's senses from the assault. The powerful shockwave shattered the concrete and knocked out a quarter of his shields.
The aliens were less fortunate.
Most of them were shattered from the multiton explosion that occurred no more than a hundred meters away from them. They were flung into the air like toothpicks caught in a hurricane. A small mushroom cloud rose into the air and a massive fire engulfed what remained of the structure, its light peeking through the smoke and embers in a way that Yuri found quite beautiful.
Smaller secondary explosions went off rapidly in and around the blast zone, indicating that that wasn't the only place where they stored their munitions.
The remaining hostiles posted up on walls and buildings, though disoriented from the explosion, opened fire, hoping to suppress the armoured behemoth.
With a quickness that would leave most mortal men trembling pieces of helpless flesh, the Spartan zigzagged this way and that, outrunning their ability to effectively track him and reducing their concentrated automatic fire to nothing more than superficial suppression.
Yuri shouldered his weapon, sighted in on the closest building, and fired. The rounds struck true and drilled through the skull of the offending alien, killing it instantly. He switched targets, movements but a blur, towards another alien on the adjacent building. He squeezed the trigger and it too left the realm of the living.
The former head hunter caught a flicker of movement, he turned at the right moment to catch one of the hostiles on the wall fire off a rocket at the Spartan. It was a good move; anti tank weaponry was about the only thing they had that could reliably injure the Spartan short of excessive small arms fire.
Too bad they didn't know just how fast a Spartan can move. Yuri's adrenaline spiked in anticipation and the already slower moving rocket slowed down even more. His rifle shifted, faster than what a mortal being could even hope to register, and fired. The rounds impacted the rocket like a spear through a man's heart, and the projectile exploded in mid air, showering the poor aliens in white hot supersonic pieces of shrapnel. Three of the creatures were instantly filleted and a fourth was finished off from a burst of automatic fire.
There was a momentary pause as the disbelieving creatures tried to process what happened.
Their mistake.
The Spartan III brought his weapon from his left to the right, raking it across the visible survivors, downing hostiles in windows, doorways and on top of the complex's wall before having to reload.
The return fire was paltry; the Spartan was on the move constantly. He darted from cover to cover, behind concrete barriers, old rusty shipping containers and piles of useless scrap.
His motion tracker caught movement, and he spun around and momentarily observed with a cold eye the alien slowly sticking its weapon out of the window, a sleek, bulky weapon with a large drum attached to it. Despite its unique design, the Spartan could easily make out its purpose.
Grenade Launcher.
It fired.
A trio of high explosive projectiles were launched at the Spartan. He moved out of the way, only taking a small amount of shrapnel to his shields. He shouldered his rifle, but found that the enemy already ducked down behind cover.
Six frowned. He wasn't going to give his opponent any breathing room. To defeat an entrenched opponent, you must use overwhelming force. Speed and strength is how you overcome a defender. If carried out properly, defence isn't even a factor.
Yuri grabbed another concrete barrier by one end, he swung the several hundred pound object and threw it at the two story building. It spun end over end like a boomerang. The thin metal wall offered no protection and was promptly torn asunder.
The scream of agony from the inside of the building confirmed to Six that the improvised projectile found its mark. Six's muscles propelled him forward, and he jumped, easily covering the five meter vertical height.
The lethal soldier's boot found purchase in the survivors head. He scooped up the grenade launcher and came out the other side of the building, warping the metal with his mass.
Below him, he fired the grenade launcher until it was empty at a dozen of the bastards. The explosions ripped them apart, scattering limbs and gore a few dozen meters from the point of impact.
Six checked his surroundings.
Nothing.
Either he eliminated all of the hostiles in the compound, or the rest were in hiding.
The latter was more likely.
Then, there was a sound. The sound of engines.
Aircraft engines.
He turned to the source of the sound and frowned.
Enemy air support.
The two incoming craft were no doubt gunships. They were angular dangerous looking things. But their design was strange, reminiscent of a skycrane helicopter from hundreds of years ago rather than what would be expected of a gunship.
Immediately, the aircraft fired. The projectiles, even from almost a kilometer away, struck the Spartan before he could dodge them. He took a smattering of rounds, and felt the sheer kinetic energy knock him backwards. Yuri worked with the momentum and was back on his feet in an instant.
He checked his shield indicator, and frowned. He took only four to six rounds but it was enough to deplete his shields by about eighty percent.
That level of damage output surpassed UNSC thirty millimeter chainguns. Any more and it would be equivalent to that of the fifty millimeter cannons found on skyhawks. Yuri hastily dove out of the way as the powerful though somewhat inaccurate rounds tore off chunks of concrete from the outer walls and punched through metallic walls like a sabot round through tissue paper.
A second later, and over a dozen rockets impacted the Spartan's original position. Deafening bangs forced MJOLNIR to cut off his audio systems and powerful shockwaves smashed into the military style buildings, easily denting the metal. Shrapnel impacted Yuri's cover and everywhere else around him with enough speed to easily slice through conventional body armour.
A large dust cloud permeated the area, allowing only a few rays of sunlight and the light from the flames to peek through. The Spartan took this as his chance; the firepower they just employed to bring him down is excessive. To them at least. To bring down a Spartan, you'll need more firepower than that. They'll likely still be cautious, but more relaxed with the realization that they might have prevailed. They'd imagine themselves untouchable from such a distance away from their enemy.
Yuri will capitalize on that hesitation.
He darted from out behind cover and turned on his visor's thermal package. He could easily make out the gunships' heat signatures, his rangefinder confirmed a distance of around half a kilometer.
No matter.
The super soldier already traded his weapon with something a little more familiar.
The M6 Grindell/Galilean Nonlinear rifle.
He shouldered the forty five pound weapon as if it weighed no more than a feather, sighted up his target, and fired. The weapon began to charge, displaying a small targeting laser on one of the aircraft. It reached the zenith of its charging time after two seconds and fired.
The Spartan laser is capable of outputting about one point twenty one gigawatts of power. Which means that a single second of fire time can expose a target to one point twenty one billion joules of energy concentrated into a beam with the diameter of a coin.
No known armor system can provide adequate protection from such a weapon. A direct hit could punch all the way through a grizzly tank and retain enough energy to gut a second one.
Yuri's visor polarized to protect his eyes from the blinding lance of ruby red light. It crossed the half kilometer distance at only a fraction less than the speed of light-almost instantly.
The light instantly melted through the entire gunship and went out the other side unfazed.
The aircraft spun out of control; the pilot inside the cockpit would have been vaporized in an instant and the main internal components melted into a fine, white hot liquid; there was nothing that could be done to stop the gunship's inevitable plummet down to the ground.
It crashed and exploded, even from behind the fortified wall, Yuri could see flames and plumes of smoke lazily floating up into the air.
The second gunship reacted almost immediately, but Six was already in a different place, having anticipated his opponent's next move, and his response.
Where he was a second sooner became showered in rocket fire and autocannon rounds. But he was already gone, rushing back into the main complex. He used his memory of the surveillance footage and rushed up a lengthy flight of stairs, blindingly quick.
Yuri knew he was in the right place when he found himself staring at an armored door at the end of a short, barren hallway. He checked his motion tracker.
Ah, so some did survive.
The super soldier accelerated instantly to the speed of a highway vehicle, and rammed his armored form into the door.
It was sturdy, but it wasn't designed to withstand the titanic forces associated with a charging fully armored Spartan. The metal warped and shattered from the force, and Yuri's shields almost depleted from the impact.
But it didn't matter.
His weapon snapped up and fired, three of the creatures, hiding behind computer consoles, dropped dead. He lunged forward and efficiently executed another four.
He spun to the last target, but didn't fire.
The alien was on its knees with its hands clasped together ,staring up at the Spartan submissively expecting to avoid its comrades' fates.
"Please," it sobbed. "Please don't kill me. I have a-" Yuri didn't even let the thing finish as his mammoth hand wrapped around the creature's head.
Ignoring the muffled scream, he slammed its skull into the ground, crushing it like a grape.
He curled his lips in disgust; he had no respect for those that begged and sobbed for mercy. Especially when he damn well knew that this creature just as easily ignored the cries for mercy from the human prisoners it gleefully tortured.
No, there would be no mercy, only death.
He spared a glance around the room he was in. This was definitely the command and control center for this complex. There were a few dozen consoles arranged like an auditorium with a large, blank screen at the front of the room.
Good, he'd need the information for later.
He took a left and went through the door there, passing through a security checkpoint and finding himself on top of the landing pad.
Yuri was prepared to use his laser a second time but stopped, when to his surprise, the enemy gunship was actually getting closer to him.
Why? Air support never risked getting close to enemy ground troops unless it was absolutely necessary. In fact, it was common for UNSC aircraft to drop guided munitions from orbit rather than engage ground forces in atmosphere unless the need called for it.
He attached his alien rifle to the magnetic plates on his back and waited as the gunship drew ever closer. When it was about ten or so meters below the landing pad, he jumped.
As Yuri fell, he activated the magnetic function on his boots, and they easily found purchase on the gunship's metallic surface.
He had the satisfaction of seeing the flabbergasted expression of the pilot who certainly didn't expect the enemy to jump onto his aircraft from above. It spun around desperately to shake off the super soldier. But it was no use.
Yuri plunged his gauntlet into the canopy, effortlessly shattering the bullet resistant glass and caving in the pilot's skull.
The effect was immediate, the gunship violently spun out of control, but Yuri's magnetic boots didn't give in. He calmly waited for the aircraft to descend. At the last moment, only a second or two before the ship crashed. He jumped. The Spartan flew through the air and gracefully landed, rolling as he did so.
The gunship slammed its bulk into the ground and erupted violently, shooting plums of blackened smoke and jets of ravenous flame high into the air. The shockwave slammed into the Spartan, but other than dropping his shields by about a third, it didn't do much. He was far enough away where the explosion wouldn't be lethal, at least to a Spartan.
The super soldier quickly checked his surroundings, then his weapons. The next task on his bucket list would be to free the prisoners. He expected resistance; whatever survivors were left were either already posted up on guard duty at the time that he broke out or retreated from the main complex in the hopes that they could use the slaves as meat shields to gain an advantage.
Worse, is that there's no guarantee that whoever sent those gunships won't have another nasty bag of treats in store for the Spartan. He needed to move quickly, but Yuri knew that if he engaged them head on that they'd execute the slaves.
No, he won't allow more innocents to die.
Fortunately, after spending years working alone against insurrectionists and overwhelming amounts of Covenant, the former head hunter was a master stealth artist, more proficient than most Spartans.
He moved quickly past mangled corpses and raging fires, through the smoke and embers, and once more faded from existence.
His visor zoomed in by thirty two times. He counted between a dozen and two dozen guards and instantly noticed their first and final mistake.
There was no perimeter set up around the slave camp. All of their guns were pointed at the complex. Yuri rolled his eyes.
They won't realize they're dead until it's too late. The Spartan was a physical manifestation of death and suffering to those that made an enemy of humanity. There did not exist a single force in the universe that could stop a Spartan from completing his or her mission.
These aliens? Their minutes were numbered.
Yuri was simply a manifestation of death, a weapon of mass destruction to be unleashed upon the foes of Humanity.
Nothing could save them now.
Fear.
That was the only emotion that the mercenary could feel right now. Not sadness that his friends were slaughtered like livestock or anger at the thing that did the slaughtering.
No, all he could feel was an intense, primal fear. The kind that paralyzed you and made you unable to fight back, unable to think, unable to run. He didn't even bother to struggle against the crushing weight of the massive armored boot pressed down on his chest. The thing that had him pinned down looked like a god of war to all those that could see its armored bulk, standing tall amongst the dead, unbothered by the suffering it brought upon its enemies.
The batarian wanted to beg for mercy, beg for the mercy that he never would have given to his captives. But he couldn't find the strength or the courage to do so. He was smart enough to realize that this monster had already decided his fate the moment it locked eyes with his brethren.
With those sobering thoughts in his mind, the batarian could only watch through tear filled eyes as the thing raised its weapon… and the only thing the mercenary knew afterwards was a calm, peaceful void.
Yuri glanced around the camp and nodded in satisfaction. Most of the guards were dispatched silently and without much trouble. The resistance was paltry, which made rescuing the captives much easier.
The cheers stopped as his golden visor locked onto the defenseless civilians. He was familiar with the reactions. Even though the original Spartans were hailed as heroes, many people still saw them as alien. The silent, robotic super soldiers seemed as alien as the Covenant, and it made it impossible for regular people to relate to them, even in the most basic human principles. People often fear that which they don't understand. As such, civilians were perfectly content with watching Spartans through vids or from afar. But up close it was a different story.
That was to say nothing of the other aliens locked up here with them.
He approached the camp entrance slowly, so as to not scare the captives even more. As he drew closer, he heard some of the captives gasp; probably appreciating just how massive the super soldier was up close. Some of them hid in their improvised shacks while the rest stared at the Spartan in awe, as if he were a deity.
Given their previous predicament, maybe he did seem a deity to them.
"Hostile alien element has been eliminated," his rock hard voice prompted many of the captives to jump in surprise. He reached out with a gauntlet and snapped the lock open.
He was about to open his mouth again, when Yuri was interrupted.
"Help! Help, my mom's injured!" The Spartan's head snapped to a girl, probably no older than fifteen, frantically running out of one of the improvised shacks. She beckoned him forward, and Yuri quickly followed her into the shack, frightening the bystanders with his sudden burst of speed.
He entered the cramped construction, and saw a woman probably in her forties laying sprawled out on her back. She had dark hair and a delicate complexion many would consider attractive. But now her skin was pale, her breathing was ragged. Clinging on to life has getting harder and harder. Without proper medical attention she would die.
There was a man crouched over her with his hands on her wounded shoulder, trying desperately to stop the bleeding.
The man looked up at the Spartan and nodded to him, seemingly unfazed by the appearance of a massive seven foot super soldier.
Yuri crouched opposite of the woman. "How long?"
"Ten, fifteen minutes. She's lost a lot of blood." He said.
"You need to help her…" the girl said shakily. Yuri momentarily looked at her bruised and dirty face. For a moment, his consciousness seemed to leave this reality, and all he could see was the aftermath of every single Covenant assault he's ever had to face off against. Children whose parents were taken from them. Children who lost their innocence, their humanity.
Children who became like him.
No, she won't suffer that fate.
"She will survive," Yuri said confidently, with so much conviction that the girl visibly calmed down momentarily and stared at the Spartan almost in awe.
Six readied a canister of biofoam. "Take your hands off," with a practiced eye he examined the shoulder injury. He saw three entry wounds and three slightly larger exit wounds in a tight grouping on the woman's shoulder. Six nodded to himself, no major organs were damaged, otherwise she'd be long dead.
It was a good thing that the rounds didn't strike bone too. Fragments could ricochet off of bone and do all kinds of terrible damage. Yuri remembered an instant where a marine took a bullet in the hip from an Insurrectionist. The bullet hit the pelvis at an odd angle, ricocheted, and came out the top of the man's shoulder. It took an extensive amount of field care to keep the man alive before they could get a medevac on site.
This woman was lucky.
"This will sting," he said to the woman, who only groaned in acknowledgement. He applied the compound to the wound, watching the liquid polyethyl triphosphate seep into the wound and harden. The chemical compounds work quickly, speeding up clotting, disinfecting the wound and numbing the pain.
Yuri nodded. This will prevent bleeding for a few hours until UNSC reinforcements arrive.
The woman relaxed slowly as the numbing agent worked its wonders and the bleeding stopped.
"Will… will she be alright?" The girl asked hesitantly.
"Yes, this will prevent bleeding for several hours until she receives proper medical attention."
The girl stared at the Spartan through tear filled eyes in silence, before opening her mouth. "Th-thank you, I don't know what I would've done if she didn't make it. I wish I can repay you somehow… but thank you so much."
The Spartan nodded and was about to turn back to the man that was assisting the woman but hesitated.
"It's my duty."
The girl stared wide eyed at the Spartan, as if struggling to come to terms with how casually the Spartan made saving lives seem. But she simply smiled.
"You should stay with your mom," the man said. "Keep an eye on her." She nodded, and the Spartan motioned the man to follow him.
Yuri turned to the man as they exited the shelter. "Any other wounded?" The man looked up into Yuri's visor and dejectedly shook his head.
"No, the bastards killed at least a dozen captives. Their wounds were too severe for them to really last long at all."
Six frowned, but he knew there was nothing that could be done for them. What he can do now is make sure the rest of these people make it out in one piece and avenge the fallen after.
There was something else. The way that this individual moved, spoke and analyzed the Spartan with cold, intelligent eyes. It was much more than what he got from the other captives, and was something that the Spartan instantly picked up on when he first laid his eyes on this person.
Spook. So, ONI either has already slipped agents behind enemy lines or this one was just unlucky and got caught unintentionally. Regardless, every good special operative knew better than to interfere with missions undertaken by different operatives or units. He certainly wasn't going to give away his identity in front of all these people.
They quickly exited the shack and found themselves surrounded by a crowd of humans and the other alien species.
One of the blue aliens tentatively stepped forward closer to the intimidating Spartan.
"Will she be alright?" The Spartan nodded and several sighs of relief could be heard from within the crowd.
"Thank you," she said, "I don't know how we can repay you for this.
"Not necessary," replied the large soldier immediately. The alien frowned. "I will scout the area for survivors or additional hostiles, stay here unless told otherwise." Several captives nodded, and some of them looked nervous, suddenly being reminded that their captors haven't yet been completely dealt with.
It was then that the Spartan noticed one of the blue humanoids behaving strangely as he made his way to the camp's entrance. Instead of moving out of the way of the hulking super soldier, she tentatively stepped forward and reached out with an arm. Six quelled his urge to shoulder his rifle as her delicate hand found purchase on his armoured forearm. Her hand stopped a few millimeters short of the actual armor plate due to Six's shields, perplexing her.
Then, Yuri felt… strange.
He couldn't really explain it. It was almost as if there was a tugging sensation in his mind, as if… there was something… else trying to peer into his head. Yuri stared at the humanoid, watching as her expression went from curiosity to frustration, as if she was looking for something and can't seem to find it.
Yuri gently pushed her hand away, and she frowned, but didn't say anything. Noble Six gestured to the rest of the captives, and she hesitantly left to join them.
Meanwhile, Yuri's brain swam a million miles a minute. These extraterrestrials had… telepathy?
Yuri was ready to completely throw that idea out the airlock when he was reminded of his encounters with Gravemind, a being that did indeed possess telepathy on a scale that allowed him to communicate with other creatures without requiring close proximity. It was a baffling phenomenon for sure. But an entire race of aliens that possess this capability? That was concerning. Thankfully, judging by this strange interaction, it didn't seem like she was able to gain access to his mind. Maybe he was able to somehow resist it or perhaps the phenomenon required direct contact and his shields were able to mitigate that.
Whatever the case, this required further investigation, so Yuri logged it in the back of his mind. If there was a strategy or technique that can be employed to further counter this ability, or even a way to exploit it somehow, Yuri wanted to figure it out.
"I think it would be a good idea to call in the Systems Alliance as soon as possible," Six turned around, visor locking with intelligent and analytical eyes.
Systems Alliance? What is that? Yuri has never heard of any organization with that name. Could they be Insurrectionists? A private military corporation? Something else? Were they enemies? Allies? The Spartan wasn't sure.
"What is the Systems Alliance's affiliation with the UNSC?" The man raised an eyebrow.
"Sorry, but I don't know what the UNSC is."
What?
This individual, this human, didn't know what the UNSC is? Six was tempted to roll his eyes at what he at first thought was a pathetic excuse for deception from an insurrectionist agent.
But he didn't.
Spartans were taught very rigorously on human psychology, how to tell if someone is hiding their emotions, what those emotions are, as well as how to detect lies. Obviously whoever this is, he can mask his expression well, but not good enough.
Things like changes in breathing rate, providing an unnecessary amount of information for simple questions, an abnormal absence of body language and so on. Yuri can easily pick up on these things, and he can tell that either this man is a remarkably good liar, or he really doesn't know what the UNSC is, as ridiculous as it sounds.
"The United Nations Space Command is the scientific, exploratory and military agency of the Unified Earth Government." The hyper lethal watched as the man's expression became both stunned and skeptical at the same time. No one else was in earshot of the conversation, having either retreated to their makeshift homes or gathering in groups at the center of the camp.
"I'm not sure what galaxy you're from but that's kind of the job title of the Systems Alliance." Now, it was Yuri's turn to be surprised. His finger twitched imperceptibly as scenarios and thoughts swam back and forth in his augmented mind.
Is it possible that they were too late and that Didact's ship caused enough damage to cripple the UNSC resulting in Insurrectionist cells overthrowing the UNSC chain of command? Is this individual an insurrectionist and is trying to stall for time before insurrectionist reinforcements arrive?
Or is there some other scenario that Yuri never even considered?
"There has to be some kind of miscommunication," the man said. "You're obviously not from around here… who are you? What is your species?"
It seems that he also didn't know what a Spartan is, something that every human would know after their existence was declassified.
"Lieutenant Spartan B312 UNSC ONI branch, navspecwar subdivision." He watched as the man's eyebrows raised. "I'm human."
The spook's eyes widened. "You're human…" he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Look, you may not believe me when I say this… but I don't think you're in Kansas anymore. I'm willing to bet that technology you've got there doesn't even exist in this galaxy, trust me I've been around. "Six watched as the man's eyes scanned over his suit with a hint of what looked to be amazement.
"Seriously, how much eezo does it take to power that?"
Eezo? Yet another term that the Spartan wasn't familiar with.
"I am not familiar with the term 'eezo'." Once again, the spook's eyes widened almost comically, eliciting an imperceptible sigh of annoyance from the hyper lethal. If every single one of Six's responses was going to result in this type of reaction, then this conversation is going to take forever.
"Ok… either you're messing with me, or you really aren't from around here. Everyone knows what eezo is. You know, the wonderful element that can be electrically excited to create a mass effect field to manipulate the mass of an object?"
The Spartan stared blankly at the person in front of him. An element that can manipulate the mass of an object at will? A scientific discovery that groundbreaking and physics defying would have been known to him. Still, this doesn't make sense. Manipulating masses in such a manner goes against some of the most fundamental laws of physics. This has to be a lie. But once again this man seemed serious.
But Spartans were beings of pure action. Yuri wasn't going to trust this man's conjecture until he found out the answers himself. He was going back to that base with the purpose of contacting the UNSC, and if he really can't get in touch with them, then he'll try and contact this… Systems Alliance.
"Stay with the rest," he said, in his all too characteristic deadpan. "I will contact the Systems Alliance,"
"Goodluck with that," he called out to the leaving Spartan. "I'd offer my help but I don't know how to use their technology. You seem smart, so I'm sure you'll figure it out."
The hyper lethal's mind whirred ceaselessly as he left the camp, unable to come to terms with what might be his current predicament. No, it can't be. There is no way that he is in a...different galaxy.
The Spartan shook himself from his stupor and instinctively scanned his environment for hostiles. He'd quickly patrol around the camp for any of the four eyed aliens he fought earlier and then look for a way to contact the UNSC in the base. With the speed of a Spartan, this won't take long.
He was looking forward to returning back to the UNSC.
Hey guys! So sorry about the unexpected delay. I shouldn't have even promised an update so soon given how unpredictable things have been. I didn't have the motivation to work on this story for a while. When I did gather the will to continue, my second semester came around and bombarded me with a storm of tests, assignments and lab reports the likes of which I've never seen before. In their infinite wisdom, my professors thought It would be a great idea to move up a bunch of courses in the hopes that COVID calms down enough for us to perform in person labs. Obviously that didn't work out so now I'm stuck with an unusually large workload. I'm not yet done with this semester and am currently attempting to throw everything I've got into seeing this through to the end. It hasn't been easy, and it will no doubt become harder. Again, I apologize for the delay and this time I won't promise a quicker update. Just know that it will come, though likely not for a little while. Please make sure to drop a review if you feel so inclined and let me know how I did. I'm kind of worried I spent too much time on Six here, but I'll see what you guys think. Anyways, stay safe guys! The more we stay safe and adhere to social distancing guidelines, the quicker this shit will end!