++July 22nd, 0900 Hours++
The deeper we go into the interior of Sword base the more similar everything looks. I wonder if that's intentional or not, part of some sinister design. It's hard to recognise anything, and easy to get lost, two things I imagine would be useful for a base that probably doesn't officially exist. I realise I should have been dropping points in my sat nav, just in case we have to retrace our steps. It wouldn't help to start now though, and honestly what do I think is going to happen? Even if things get totally fucked it's not like we're going to be able to fight our way out of an entire ONI base. Fight? What am I thinking, these are allies. It won't get that bad. It can't.
I haven't seen the doctor, or the rest of Spear team since we entered, and I'm not going to ask where they are. All of us just follow Spear One quietly. I haven't talked to the rest of Kilo-Five either, figuring that our Spartan chaperone probably has our comms on tap. Nothing like not having privacy to make you behave.
Finally after what seems like an eternity of corridors, elevators, and doorways we arrive at something of note, at least more notable than stark white corridors. It's another large blast door and the Spartan starts the opening sequence.
"I don't have to tell you not to talk about anything behind this door." Spartan One turns his head and looks at us directly for the first time in recent memory.
"What about the stuff we just walked through?" Viking retorts.
He just can't help himself, can he? The Spartan doesn't answer and we're all too focused on what we can now see. It's a huge natural cavern, miles wide and full of clear, reflective ice. Above us is a massive ice dome, that is who knows how thick. It's breathtaking, but also strange. The strangeness isn't helped by what I can see in the distance. A ship, or some kind of installation larger than anything I've seen and constructed like nothing else. It's buried here, probably hundreds of feet below the natural ice shelf, hidden from view. How did ONI even find this place?
"That's not one of ours, is it?" Wink asks.
"No." The Spartan answers without further elaboration.
I don't want to think about those implications. We start walking through the cavern, heading towards what looks like a bunker next to the structure. The evidence of construction is everywhere, but it looks like things have been halted ages ago. Digging equipment, trucks and loaders are scattered around boxes of heavy mining equipment, all long since turned off and abandoned. They didn't even bother shipping the stuff back out to the surface… They must have found what they were looking for.
Inside the bunker it's more of the same. Long, plain metal hallways leading towards the foreign structure. Eventually it opens up into a larger room, and behind a glass window I can see an entire team of scientists working. They're busy, too busy to acknowledge our presence. All except one. An older looking woman, maybe in her late fifties with a short bob haircut and piercing eyes. She signals to those next to her, giving them orders I can't hear and leaves the console where she was working. After passing through an airlock she approaches Spear One who for the first time removes his helmet.
I see Scratch recoil, and I can't help but stare. The man behind the helmet looks… young. Fifteen maybe? He's just a child but his eyes are unavoidably ancient. Scars cover him. Thin scars from medical tools, implants just underneath the skin, as well as a variety of different battle scars. This kid, this soldier, has been fighting for a very long time. What that means... It unsettles me.
"Spartan One-Zero-Four… Frederic," The woman says. "You completed the mission to an acceptable standard?"
"Yes, Doctor Halsey." The Spartan replies, his tone is respectful as though he were talking to his own mother.
Halsey… this is the woman who brought us down here. She turns to our team, and I shuffle uncomfortably under her gaze. I feel like I'm being judged, and in all honesty we probably are.
"You're Kilo-Five, correct?"
"Yes, ma'am." Chance replies.
"I read your file. Remove your helmets."
We pause. I look sideways at Wink who does the same. Neither of us seem keen on the idea, but we see Chance opening the atmospheric seal on his helmet. I let out a small sigh then do the same. The air here is cool, and tastes metallic from being pumped through filters a dozen times.
Halsey studies us for a moment, as though she were looking at a piece of equipment. I've seen the look before from Major Horn just before he's about to send us on what can politely be called a sucide mission. It's the look of someone trying not to see you as a human being, or someone who sees you as an asset. Is that really so inaccurate? I guess not. At the end of the day we're fixers- shoot us at a problem and it goes away.
"Sergeant Alex Chance, would you mind telling me why you were attempting to kill a member of my staff?" Halsey's voice is clipped and firm, but not angry.
"Ma'am?" Chance asks. He sounds confused. So am I.
"Doctor Amari is a member of my staff, Sergeant, and come to find out you were trying to kill him. Thankfully my Spartans got there first."
"We had orders to eliminate an enemy spy, ma'am."
"I read your orders, they were for VIP retrieval."
Chance looks back at us with a perplexed expression. I shrug, unsure what aid I can offer him. Wink steps to his side and leans forwards, whispering something into his ear. Chance's face goes dark and then he speaks.
"I understand, ma'am-"
"Please, call me Doctor Halsey."
"Doctor Halsey, there was a miscommunication over the lines. We got our wires crossed and must have intercepted a rogue transmission. Obviously our official orders, the ones you read, the ones that came from Major Horn, are correct. We were there to retrieve the package."
Halsey laughs, but it isn't full of humor or levity. Afterwards though she gives us a genuine smile. "You care for your team, don't you Sergeant?"
"Yes ma- Doctor Halsey."
"How would you like to come work for me?"
Viking starts coughing violently, and everyone stares at him. After a few moments he waves us off. His face is bright red. "Sorry." He croaks. "Own spit. Down the wrong pipe."
"I'm not sure I follow, Doctor Halsey." Chance admits.
"You're smart, Sergeant. Think about the situation you're in and how you found yourself here, then think about who you work for. I mean really work for. You can either… stay the course and keep your head in the dark, sent on ops with unclear objectives where you don't know friend from foe or… you can work for me. I need work done on Reach and I can't afford to send an entire Spartan fireteam out every time. I have a use for you and I'm making you an offer."
Silence. The Spartan, Fredreick, is staring at us. Me, specifically. "Sir." I say. "I think we should… consider it."
Chance looks at me, his brow furrowed. Wink is nodding in agreement with me.
"Consider what? Major Horn isn't just going to let us switch uniforms, Ginger. How do you think this works?"
"Leave Major Horn to me, Sergeant."
I look down at my boots, still coated in mud and dust from the previous mission. I check my cronometer, and realise it's only ten in the morning. Feels later. We've been moved to a different room. It's a plain box with benches and chairs. We're supposed to be thinking, talking about what to do next, and getting ready to give Halsey an answer. No one has said anything for fifteen minutes. Wink is still pacing in the center of the room.
"So…" Scratch starts, and the rest of us look at him. "What just happened?"
"We were used." Wink accuses.
Chance shakes his head. "Wink, we weren't used…"
"Then what do you call it? Major Horn sent us to kill a loyal man. He was kidnapped. That's what Halsey said- He's just a scientist, with a family, and the Innie's surrounded his home."
I look at Chance who lets out a sigh and picks at a piece of dirt on his armor.
"You remember what you said during the op? That this wasn't some sketchy mission ordered by ONI? That we were bringing a man to justice? A traitor." Wink stares at him.
Chance nods. "I remember."
"Well I guess you were partially right. It wasn't ONI who ordered it. We were basically a hit squad!"
Viking scratches the back of his neck, he looks exasperated. "She's right."
"Oh that's a helpful contribution, Viking. Thanks." Chance retorts while he rolls his eyes.
Viking shrugs, throwing his hands up in the air. "What do you want from me?"
"What makes any of you think working for ONI- no, working for Halsey, because don't be fooled that's exactly what this is, what makes ANY of you think that will be different?" Chance waves his hand at us, inviting anyone to refute his statement. "We don't even know who this woman is, other than she has access to a team of Spartans. That sound normal to any of you?"
"Because she's personally invested." I answer. "If she wants it done she's going to give us the tools we need to be successful. That's more than can be said for the UNSC right now. We've been fighting ghosts, Chance. It's been nothing but dark op after dark op. When's the last time we were even in a stand up firefight? The Innie's are fighting a losing war on Reach and they know it. It's only going to get worse when they start going into hiding and we have to start kicking down doors in the main cities tracking down accused war criminals."
"That's what you signed up for!" He shouts back. He isn't wrong I guess.
"If that's what we have to do then we should be told." Wink's face is more solemn than I've ever seen it. "We have the chance to at least know what we're getting into this way. We should take it."
Chance sighs, but nods his head. I think he already agreed with us, just needed to hear it aloud. "Here's the deal. This conversation dies in this room. We'll take Halsey up on her offer but there is NO guarantee Major Horn goes for this. She might be the real deal, she might not. If not, we hop back on the Pelican and leave, and this whole thing stays between us. None of us are getting court martialed. We stick to the official story, we do our jobs, and we all make it out on the other side alive. Just like always."
Everyone stands up and nods. "Yes Sergeant." We say.
Chance walks over to the intercom attached to the wall and thumbs the bottom. "Doctor Halsey? We're in."
There is a pause, before Frederic's voice replies. "I will let the Doctor know. In the meantime head up top. Get some food, and hit the armory."
We were all surprised when Major Horn himself thanked us for our service over the comms, with Doctor Halsey standing next to us the entire time. Your service to the UNSC has been exemplary, and I know that given this position aiding Doctor Halsey your record will only become more impressive. I don't pretend to be a smart man, and I don't try to follow the politics within the UNSC and Highcom, but I certainly didn't think transferring out of the ODST and into ONI would be quite so smooth. I look down at my new armor and combat suit, painted black with ONI's colors as markings. It's the same model as ODST armor, but I can feel the joints are smoother; everything feels just a bit more responsive. Apparently in addition to a host of smaller upgrades it has some kind of new energy dispersal weave that's supposed to make it substantially better at absorbing punishment than the standard issue stuff. I'll focus on not getting shot before relying on it.
I hang my legs over the side of the Falcon transport helicopter watching the scenery go by. Its two twin rotors are locked in the forward position and underneath us the rolling mountains of Reach zip past. We're speeding towards the coast and our new assignment, our first assignment as an ONI Fireteam.
"Innie combatants have assaulted and taken control of an ONI research installation which is dedicated to translating the data funneled to them by the main dig site under Sword base." Chance says over the coms. "According to ONI camera feeds the science team at the site has locked themselves in a secure safe room on the western side of the complex. We'll be landing at the Eastern entrance, where we'll be greeted by ONI security. Our mission is to push in, link up with a Spartan asset already inside the facility, and return to facility to ONI control."
"How'd a bunch of insurgent yahoos get inside?" Wink asks.
"Who knows, not our job. I'm sure the investigators will search for any holes after we pull ONI assets out of the fire."
I clear the breach on my M7 and get set for combat. "How much longer till we arrive?" I ask as I watch Scratch anxiously drumming his hands against the shotgun in his lap.
"Almost there." Chance confirms.
The flight goes by fast and soon we're landing on a rocky, ugly beach about fifty yards from a coastal facility. It's much larger than Sword base, at least the part I can see. The outside looks more like a civilian structure, some kind of shipping yard or launch station. The entire facility overhangs the coastal cliff with an industrial dock below. This place is used to dealing with heavy equipment.
"Kilo-Five?!" A man runs up to the chopper, waving us forward.
"Yeah, what's the situation?" Chance asks, taking the lead. I fall into his left, and Wink takes his right.
"The Insurgent force has continued to push deeper into the facility. We're pursuing them as they give up ground, but without backup we can't push in before they've reached the science team."
"That's why we're here. I was told the science team is secured in a safe room?"
"That's correct, Sir."
A pair of guards salute and open the door to the facility. It squeaks and wines with protest, rust from constantly being exposed to the coastal elements having darkened and potted the steel. Inside the corridors are utilitarian, confirming my suspicions that this was, at least at one point, a civilian heavy shipping facility. Exposed pipes and heavy power cords are openly strung along the walls, labeled with bright, primary colors.
"Assuming the enemy gets there, what are we dealing with? How much time do we have?" Scratch inquires.
"It's hard to say, Sir, probably not long. Thirty minutes or less? There were two insurgent teams that hit the facility in a coordinated attack. One of them went to the loading bay and has been transporting welding equipment to the safe room. They're ahead of the main force that's delaying us and they're likely to be at the doors within the next few minutes."
Chance speaks over our internal comms. "Have any of you been looking at these blueprints? Half of the hallways we've passed aren't even on here."
"Yeah… ONI's definetly put their own spin on the interior since these plans were made." Scratch remarks. "It looks like we're just going to have to go old school and fight our way through."
"What we do best." Viking says with a grin in his voice.
"We were told a Spartan was at this facility, you know anything about that?" Chance directs his question to the man escorting us.
"Spartan, Sir? No. You're the first group we've seen. It's just through here, Sir."
We arrive at a locked security door and just behind it I can hear the discharge of assault rifles. They sound like dull thuds from behind the heavy steel door. Viking and Scratch are already loaded and ready, taking a position on either side of the door. I fall in behind Scratch, Wink moves behind Viking. We each nod to Chance who takes the middle avenue.
"Open it." Chance orders.
As soon as the door lifts an explosion sends an ONI trooper to the floor, shrapnel having ruined his face. He's coughing, his lungs probably torn to shreds by the shockwave from the grenade. I step over his body and move forwards under Viking's covering fire.
"Moving up!" I call, dashing down the corridor and taking cover behind a makeshift barrier of steel equipment boxes the ONI security team had moved into position. I peak over the top of the bunker and survey the area. Down the hall is a similarly constructed barrier, with three innies taking cover and returning fire with MA37 assault rifles. A moment later and Wink is next to me.
"Ginger, suppress and I'll pop the one on the right!" She calls.
I nod and stand, bracing my M7 against the box and letting it roar in full auto. The rapid fire sub catches one of the innie's by surprise and before he can get down his torso is hit by half a dozen rounds. I see him fall, a fine mist of red hanging in the air for just a fraction of a second. The boom of Wink's rifle rips through the air a second later, the large projective tearing through the enemies' barrier like a mere inconvenience and turning the man behind into a mess of dead flesh.
Before the third has time to run I've vaulted the barrier along with Scratch and we're running down the hall, his shotgun belching gouts of flame from its barrel as he pumps shot after shot into the enemy position. We arrive before the target has managed to recover from the death of his two allies and I put a few rounds into his chest before moving on.
"Next checkpoint!" Chance calls from right behind us.
Three more barriers fall to our assault, and the innie's will to fight is already starting to break. We're chewing through them faster than they can prepare the next strongpoint. I feel good. My heart is racing but I'm calm. I'm in my element, we all are. It feels like an eternity since Kilo-Five has actually been in a proper combat scenario, not since we'd shipped off Tribute after the conclusion of Operation Trebuchet. This is what we trained for.
"Stationary!" Viking calls, pointing at the next barrier.
"Where the fuck did they find that thing?!" Scratch cries before diving for cover under a hail of bullets.
I peak around my position. About thirty yards down the corridor is another barrier, but this one is heavier. In the middle of it I can see an M247H heavy machine gun mounted to an armored gunner is almost totally obscured by a thick metal shield bolted to the gun. It's the perfect killzone. A bullet impacts next to my face, forcing me to duck back behind cover again.
"Those heavy rounds will tear through our shit, Sergeant, what do we do!?"
Chance grunts with annoyance, firing a few rounds down at the target which bounce harmlessly off the gun's shield. "I don't know. We can't flank it- these blueprints are a damn mess and they don't show another way into where the scientists are being held. We have to go through!"
I fire a few rounds myself, hoping for a lucky shot but the turret is too well armored. They must have been preparing for this position the entire time. The other barriers were just to buy time. This is the real defensive position. "Someone's gotta bounce the barrier and throw a grenade behind the enemy position. It's the only way we'll dig them out." I shout over the roar of the enemies' incoming fire.
"To get that kind of accuracy you'd have to get within fifteen yards of the position!" Wink points out.
"That's ten yards you've got to cover with that MG on your ass. No way. You wouldn't make it ten feet!"
"No other way." I growl between gritted teeth. I know I'm right, but I'm not happy about it.
"Leave it to me." A voice breaks over our comms, one I haven't heard before. It's soft, and inescapably feminine. Then I see her- the Spartan. Just as intimidating as the others and in dark, metallic blue armor. She sprints down the corridor and leaps over my position. The enemy position answers her assault with a wall of firepower. I watch mesmerized as the lone Spartan all but dances around the majority of the incoming shots, the few that do manage to hit her bouncing harmlessly off the brilliant golden shielding. She covers the distance in a few heartbeats and I see the grenade pulled and thrown in a fraction of a second. It lands perfectly in the gap where the machinegun's shield meets the ceiling and detonates.
The entire enemy position is smoked out all at once, the grenade cooking off what armaments the innie's had been hiding behind their fortified position. I'm used to seeing a lot of crazy things in the heat of combat, and I've worked closely with some of the most skilled soldiers and veterans within the UNSC, but the Spartans… they're a totally different level. I stand up from my position and slowly approach the Spartan as she stands among the ruins of the enemy position, pieces of the enemy scattered around her. There is a dark red stain on the floor where the gunner used to be.
"Thanks…" I say awkwardly with a smile on my face.
The Spartan looks at me for a few moments, the silver visor of her helmet completely impenetrable. Her reply is quiet, the delicateness of her voice completely mismatched against the terror of her physical appearance. "Spartan 010 - Naomi. I've been assigned to Kilo-Five. Now... we have people to save, and data to recover."