Volume 1: Chapter 6: Intervention
Originally Drafted: April 22nd, 2022
Originally Uploaded: April 24th, 2022
Updated On: September 17th, 2022
Thank you, yangn33 for pointing out something I missed. Probably should've googled what kind of ammo UNSC firearms used before. But, thankfully, edits exist.
"A Shift In Priorities."
/ UNSC Eternity, Bridge, November 2nd, 2558. 1800 hrs. /
Captain Morgan had been briefed on the situation. The person of interest they had been looking for was MIA. When the Captain had heard of a potential UEG citizen stranded on this planet, he'd at first been skeptical. If it weren't for the determination seen in that Helljumper's eyes. He wouldn't have cared so much for some unknown person claiming to be one..
The man was adamant. It seemed he truly did believe her. Based on his determination, the Captain wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. If someone from the UEG had been stranded here, then it would be part of their duty to do so. However, the problem was starting a potential conflict. If they moved based on minimal information and a gut feeling, then it would definitely be in poor judgment. It was something he wasn't eager to do.
With him, at the moment. Was the ONI Lieutenant, Oliver Redding. The two were discussing possible plans in regards to their current dilemma. He knew of personnel that could help, but it could take some time to get them ready. And he didn't know how much this Count person was willing to put on the line.
Lieutenant Redding had already compiled a report on the Count who acquired the person they were looking for earlier with the help of their informants. And so far, what he heard wasn't pretty.
For all intents and purposes. The man was the very definition of a corrupt politician. Using his privilege and power over the common people. Exerting his own influence over the Academy to "hire" the female staff. Etc…
It absolutely sickened him. Were this the UNSC during the height of the Human-Covenant War, they would have had the man shot already without much due process. Thankfully, for the Count at least, they didn't have any say in the legal proceedings of Tristain. They were in a bit of a legal conundrum for this situation.
The Count had acted within the confines of the law. Something which bothered them immensely. Is it the country at fault, or its leadership? He couldn't say. He hadn't met many of the natives yet. It was too soon to cast judgment based on the actions of one individual alone.
For example: Old Man, Osmond and Professor Colbert, the ones he'd met at the Academy seemed amicable enough. A stark contrast to the Count. If the Count acted this way as an extreme outlier to the norm, then he would have had no qualms bearing their might upon him.
"Do we have any legal reasons to go after the man?" Captain Morgan asked. While he would have wanted the situation done and over with. He couldn't do so without an actual casus belli.
"Well we can't arrest him based on suspicion. We'd have to have some concrete proof of him committing some wrongdoing to us." Lieutenant Redding replied with a scowl as he rubbed his forehead in seeming consternation.
"Fortunately, I think we've got the next best thing." He later added after moving to let Captain Morgan see the information shown on his datapad.
It was a recorded confession. One of their informants, a man by the name of Jean or Jacques, a local that they had captured earlier with the help of one of their "Special Assets" according to ONI. Captain Morgan didn't care too much about his name or the circumstances. The fact that he'd given up some valuable intel was a boon to their efforts.
After confessing to being a double agent - one working to subvert the Crown of Tristain. The man had become quite the helper after the ONI Agents had spent days grilling the info out of him.
The Count and the man both worked for the rebellion known as Reconquista. With the Count siphoning funds from Tristain's economy for the rebels. And the other man being a deeply embedded agent. Able to strike and gather information without being suspected.
The implications concerned Captain Morgan. He'd figured that the UNSC would be embroiled in local politics soon enough, but not this soon. Still, they had to rescue one of their own. Even if she wasn't technically a citizen.
"What are our options, Lieutenant?" Captain Morgan asked. He wanted to be rid of the situation as soon as possible.
"Well, we could always send in a Sparta-" Lieutenant Redding was about to suggest before being cut off.
"No, the deployment of a Spartan Fireteam, would be a gross misallocation of resources." Captain Morgan shut the idea down.
While the Eternity did carry a compliment of Spartans. It wasn't to the same number as their sister ship, the Infinity's due to time constraints. As a result they had precious few Spartans under her command.
"No, not an entire Fireteam. That would be overkill by this world's standards." Lieutenant Redding shrugged off the Captain's rebuttal and replied. While he'd been miffed about Captain Morgan shooting the idea down initially. He could understand how he felt.
"All our Spartans are indisposed at the moment. Where are we going to find a Spartan willing to go on this little operation of ours?" Captain Morgan asked.
"We have a single Spartan-III onboard actually. His presence isn't supposed to be known. Which is why I've had him 'supervise' some of our specialists discreetly. I figured keeping him incognito would help with his rehabilitation." Lieutenant Redding admitted. "Which makes him. The perfect candidate."
Captain Morgan didn't know what to make of this revelation. While he had served with Spartans from other generations before. He didn't expect anyone aside from the Spartan-IV's to be onboard.
Typical of them to hide such things. It would make sense as to why I didn't hear about it until now. Spartan-III's usually worked discreetly for ONI.
"Where is he now?" Captain Morgan asked. This sounded too good to be true.
"Currently, Da-" the ONI Lieutenant caught himself and paused. "Spartan-G074, is 'supervising' one of our assets. He's been assigned to observe him as part of his rehabilitation. But, I think we can pull him out of that duty for tonight."
"A single Spartan won't be enough, Lieutenant." Captain Morgan sighed. "While normally I would have been fine with this. We still don't know their full capabilities with this 'magic' of theirs."
"Which is why he won't be going alone." Lieutenant Redding displayed the profiles of a certain ODST Squad.
"You want to bring them along?" Captain Morgan asked.
"Yes, they're already familiar with the girl. If we tried to send anyone else, she probably wouldn't trust us." Lieutenant Redding handed the datapad to Captain Morgan as he looked over the rest of the information on it.
"Is there anything else we need to know?" After viewing their profiles he turned to ask.
Lieutenant Redding moved to the holotable. After connecting his datapad into it. A display of the continent and its geopolitical borders appeared.
"This Reconquista group is bad news." He pointed to the island of Albion. "It started a few years ago from a bunch of discontent nobles and some commoners who had more balls than brains."
"Just like the Insurrectionists." Captain Morgan surmised.
"That's one way to put it. But they're all united in one other purpose." Lieutenant Redding highlighted a portion of the continental map. A region of desert due east of their current position.
"This 'Holy Land' of theirs as the more fanatic of the Nobles would call it. A region supposedly inhabited by another race they call Elves. It has a great religious significance to the people here as it's where their supposed Founder was from."
"What's this got to do with Reconquista? And by Elves do you mean the fantasy race with pointed ears?" While an intriguing bit of insight into this world's history. He couldn't quite see the bigger picture yet.
"The very same. This Reconquista group wants to 'unite' the continent for one great crusade. Aiming to retake their Holy Land and kill the Elves." Lieutenant Redding summarized.
"Great… the origins of the Insurrectionists with the zealotry of the Covenant." Captain Morgan said dryly. Having to deal with more future problems was getting to his nerves.
While he didn't want the UNSC involved in a fight they had no stake in. The threat of Reconquista was becoming apparent.
"Do whatever you can." Captain Morgan said to the Lieutenant.
/ UNSC Eternity, Brig. November 2nd, 2558. 1820hrs. /
It had been at least 3 days. That was all it took for him to break. Having been sent by the Kingdom and his other employer to ascertain the cause of disappearance for some of their observers. He'd carelessly walked into an ambush.
He couldn't exactly remember how it went down. He'd remembered reaching for his wand to launch the strongest lightning spell he could muster. But the foreigners were faster than him.
He felt a searing pain all over his body. Something akin to being hit with multiple lightning spells even more powerful than his own. If he were a lesser man he'd have given up then and there.
But he didn't. He resisted them all the way to the brig inside this massive ship. Along the way he saw the missing scouts the kingdom had ordered him to find. At least he now knew what happened to them.
From what he could see they were treated rather fairly. Better than how the kingdoms here would have treated a non-noble prisoner at least. If this was how they were going to treat their prisoners. He didn't mind. He'll just have to wait for the kingdom to bail him out. All the while looking into these people and their strange magic.
After being led to a cell which was rather minimalistic in its appearance, but rather comfortable looking nonetheless. Compared to the ones in the dungeons of the kingdoms at least, but a cell nonetheless. Initially non-hostile. The guards had treated him rather well. But that didn't apply to the others who replaced them.
They had come wearing black uniforms. Some sort of intelligence division for these people, if he guessed correctly. They had prodded some basic questions out of him first. Like the brief histories of these kingdoms, or the nature of their religion.
Something he was confused about. How could they not know who The Founder was? When they felt satisfied with the brief rundown of continental Halkeginia. They moved onto other topics of a more personal nature. From there they started prodding into who he was.
He'd noticed that these people didn't particularly care if someone was a noble or not. His titles would do him little help. But, clearly. They had an idea of who he was and who he worked for. Day in and day out they prodded him. They even brought out strange tools to help in their interrogation. He couldn't understand the means of how they worked. But they were effective.
He'd told them everything he knew. About who he really worked for. Even the things his mother learned. But they seemed nonplussed at that. His ties to Reconquista had made him quite the informant.
They seemed to take the threat of Reconquista far more seriously than the bumbling fools within the courts did. Did they have some experience dealing with rebellions? They seemed like the type of people who showed no quarter to treachery. He shuddered at the thought.
By the third day, they'd eased up on him. Seeing the proud noble that he was a while back, be beaten and broken down. They'd loosened with their interrogation techniques. Something he was mildly grateful for.
He'd spent the last few hours ruminating on his thoughts. But was brought out of his thoughts when the door leading to his cell opened. It was the leader of those black uniformed men. A man named Lieutenant Redding, if he recalled.
"Good Evening, Jean." The man said.
"Good Evening, I guess…" He was able to weakly mutter out. Was it really evening? Being locked inside here for so long had left the passage of time meaningless.
"I've got a few more follow-up questions if you don't mind." The man politely asked.
"Fine… what else do you want to know?"
"This intel of yours. How accurate is it?"
"About as accurate as the best musketeers in Germania, I would wager." He said. While an unfamiliar analogy for these people, he was sure he'd understand what he meant.
"Can we trust that the Crown wouldn't take it too badly if we 'apprehended' this man on their behalf?"
"What do you mean?"
"A traitor in our midst, Jean. What else? This man is clearly a threat. He's siphoning money to fund a rebellion known for their anti-monarchist sentiments. Plus he's already kidnapped one of our own." The man had leaned in closer. A quiet simmering hatred seems to radiate off him.
"So, you're going to do what? Get rid of a Noble? You may have bested me, but I doubt you'll be able to go through his manor without a scratch."
"And why would that be?" The man asked. His curiosity piqued.
"He's a Triangle-class Water Mage. They call him Mott the Wave. Before your men could apprehend him. He would have flooded the entire room. That, and he has an army of mercenaries at his disposal."
If these people were hell-bent on apprehending the man. He honestly didn't care. At this point, he was likely dead to Reconquista. Having failed to do his regular report for days now.
"Anything else?" The man asked after tapping away on his glowing tablet.
"You are not dissuaded? Surely even your common levies would pause at facing such a credible threat!" He nearly shouted. Were these people mad?
"Trust me when I say this: we've faced worse." With that, the man turned to leave. Once more he was left alone in his cell. He could only hope they'd at least grant him the mercy of execution to prevent this embarrassment from leaking out.
/ UNSC Eternity, Science Deck, 1840 hrs. /
Saito Hiraga had been quite busy the past few days. Then again. Everyone aboard the Eternity was.
You'd rarely see an idle crew member. Be they an actual serviceman or a civilian pressed to work. They had all been busy. Saito was no exception. Although it seemed that his "bodyguards" had been called off. After the meeting with the locals on that fortress past the forest had concluded. Captain Morgan had personally told him he had nothing to worry about anymore.
It felt good to not have ONI on your back. But he suspected they weren't entirely gone.
For now he was helping Dr. Belle with her research on this world. It was truly fascinating for those who grew up in UEG territory.
Magic being a common thing, weird creatures only found in old Earth mythology, and even floating islands and ships. He had to admit. He felt like a kid again here.
He had that same feeling as when he read those fantasy novels from when he was younger. It was a shame however that their magic was limited by bloodline. Something that disappointed many when they figured it out.
Currently he was looking into the strange wooden pieces the mages here apparently carried. A foci as they called it. An item that lets them channel their willpower to cast spells.
These seemingly harmless wands had been cause for alarm for many within the UNSC. An easily concealable weapon that doesn't show up on their scanners. Capable of untold manners of destruction. Something their enemies back home would certainly exploit if they had control over it.
He was curious as to how exactly it worked. Were the wands themselves magical? Were they actually needed to cast their spells? He didn't know.
He turned to look at Dr. Belle, she had been busy examining some of the other curiosities in this world. In particular, those magic stones the locals seemed fond of using.
Studying a piece of stone they had acquired from one of the scouts they apprehended. Dr. Belle ran a series of tests on it. After she was told that these things were the cause of that floating island they could occasionally see through the layers of clouds. She wondered of the other kinds of practical uses they could get out of it.
The idea of a piece of land floating upwards and displacing the local ecology seemed ludicrous. But reality was often far stranger than fiction. If such a thing could happen again, or if someone managed to find a large deposit of windstones. They could cause an obscene amount of destruction.
But it could also mean their way home. If they could get the Eternity airborne again. They wouldn't need to deal with this continent's problems. Something she would bring up with Captain Morgan, once she had a decent understanding on the topic.
So engrossed she was in her work. That she had failed to notice Dr. Hiraga staring at her. The AI Specialist seemed to have been doing so for the past while.
"Something on your mind, Dr. Hiraga?" She asked.
"Ah, nothing at all. I was just wondering what you were so engrossed in." Saito replied.
"The windstones." She pointed at the rocks layer out on her table.
"What about them?" He asked, puzzled.
"I think we might be underestimating just how potent these could be."
"How exactly?"
She moved to display to Saito on her personal datapad an image of Albion.
"The floating island. It's said to have a large deposit of windstones underneath. If they could lift off an entire landmass. Far above the earth I might add. Then it could happen again."
Saito seemed to realize what she was getting at. His eyes widened in shock.
"Do you really think it will happen again?" He asked.
"It's a theory. But just like the tectonic plates eventually shifting the continents into new positions. I imagine these windstones do a similar job. Eventually lifting off and displacing land." She surmised.
"How long?" Now he was really worried. The portal incident had been pushed off the back burner in his mind.
"I don't know. We'll have to be here awhile to observe any changes. But I'll bring it up to Captain Morgan during the next meeting."
"What if these weren't naturally occurring. But they happen as a response to magic?" He asked.
"Well, that's something I haven't considered. But if that's the case. We need to figure out a way to neutralize them before some madman accidentally triggers this world's apocalypse." She said in response. Her tone was serious.
Saito couldn't help but worry about the future.
/ UNSC Eternity, ODST Quarters. 1900 hrs. /
The room was empty, save for a few chairs, a projector, and a very angry Helljumper. Who had been waiting here for hours.
Sergeant Dizdar had told him "Corporal, you're too heated right now. Go calm yourself down before you do anything rash." So, he did. He waited in the room by himself for a few hours as they prepared the debriefing behind the scenes.
He'd been antsy ever since they got back from the Academy.. Itching to beat up the Count after hearing the stories of what he's done to many of the other commoners. Nobody would miss such a cruel bastard. A voice in the back of his mind called.
He hadn't felt this much hatred since he saw the Covenant glass his home. He thought he was over it. Which is why he was usually so carefree in tone and personality. But he had to admit, putting a bullet in that man's cranium seemed like a good idea at the time.
He was soon joined by a disgruntled looking Sargeant Dizdar. The man looked like he had just been pulled through the ringer. As he grumbled about something unintelligible under his breath as he walked into the room.
"Corporal." Sergeant Dizdar called out to him, making him stand straight at attention.
"Sir, what's the situation?" The Corporal asked. Eagerness evident on his face.
"Our little rescue mission is going to proceed as planned. But…" the Sargeant paused before the sounds of footsteps echoed down the hall leading up to the room.
A towering man walked inside with heavy steps and the resounding clang of metal on the floor could be heard. He wore a full set of Semi-Powered Infiltration Armor painted midnight black. Corporal DiMaggio blinked. He didn't think they still used those as he hadn't seen a Spartan-III since Reach.
"I'll be joining you for this Op." The Spartan finished. Holding out a hand.
Hesitantly he took it. The man just nodded back at him.
"Spartan-G074." He introduced himself.
"ODST, Corporal, Dan DiMaggio." The Corporal reciprocated in turn, a bit of awe in his voice.
"I honestly wasn't expecting one of you to show up." Sergeant Dizdar interrupted.
"Me, neither." The Corporal added as he looked at the Spartan up and down.
"I've heard of your exploits. I hope we can work well together on this operation." The Spartan responded briskly in turn before taking a seat at the rear as his height would have interrupted anyone else's view of the upcoming debrief.
The debrief occurred not long after as other ODSTs who would join them on this mission had piled in. They were the ones who had accompanied the Sergeant into their first foray to meet the locals. Privates First Class Lucas Silvester and Sung Jin-Woo, followed by Lance Corporal Cristofero Ybarra. The latter being a long-time member of Dizdar's group.
Aside from them were a compliment of Marines. They hadn't been told exactly what they signed up for yet as they all slowly trickled into the room and took their seats beside the ODSTs.
The front of the room was commandeered by an ONI Agent. He didn't bother giving them a name so the grunts had unanimously decided to just call them the "spook." As everyone got comfortable with their positions in the room, the Agent began to speak as the lights dimmed and the harsh light of a projector illuminated the space.
"Gentlemen, this operation is strictly off the records." The Agent simply said. He then turned to manipulate the projector. Now displaying an overview of the area they were currently in, their task was about to be made clear to those unaware.
"This is going to be a relatively simple rescue operation. Your Area of Operations, while under the Crown of Tristain. Technically falls under the jurisdiction of an individual known as Count Jules de Mott. The Kingdom's Royal Messager, so you can assume he's fairly high up there when it comes to importance." He then highlighted a region on the map.
"His Manor is located here." The Agent gestured to a large structure on the estate. "It's a bit of a ways away from any of the main roads since nobody usually visits the man, so we'd have a few days at least before anyone discovers what happens." He zoomed the projected image into a section of forest which then highlighted a series of buildings around a Manor.
"Three stories tall. Multiple rooms. With a main hall at its center." Another building was then shown. Which was smaller in dimensions compared to the main.
"We assume this one to be a barracks of sorts. Our long range scanners have detected multiple armed men around this general area. It seems this is where they go when exchanging shifts. It's from this location."
"Rules of Engagement?" Interrupted the Spartan in the back.
"Weapons Free for the most part. But, no need to kill them all. Incapacitate if possible. Shoot back when fired upon." The Agent replied.
"Objectives?" The Spartan asked again.
"Primary Objective is to: rescue our High Value Target. A woman who has been recently taken by the Count. Siesta of Tarbes." The Agent displayed an image of the woman in question. A composite sketch based on Corporal DiMaggio and Sargeant Dizdar's reports.
"She's suspected of being a descendant of a UEG citizen that was also marooned here years ago, based on her testimony. She's a Person of Interest to us." The Agent concluded.
"Secondary?" The Spartan asked.
"Acquire sensitive intel. The Count is a double agent. Working for a rebel group known as Reconquista. Gather any shred of evidence you can get connecting him to the organization. It will give us a leg up in the coming negotiations."
The debrief so far had been a back and forth between the Spartan and Spook. Not to be outdone one of the ODST's shot his hand up with a question.
"How will we be infiltrating?" Sargeant Dizdar asked.
"The long way. I'm sorry to have to tell you this. But, you'll have to march all the way to the Estate." He moved the projection to a section of forest nearby.
"From there on out you'll neutralize the barracks after moving in. Once the outside perimeter is secure. The Marines will come in and help you clear out the Manor."
"How will we be exfiltrating?" Sergeant Dizdar nodded before he asked once more.
"Once you've secured the HVT and the Intel. You'll be exfiltrating the same way you got in. But we'll have some of our Mastodons ready to pick you all up when you're done at a nearby clearing. We can't afford to be seen flying out of the area." The Agent said. "Any questions?"
Seeing the room silent. He nodded. "If all goes according to plan. The Op starts by 2100. Get yourselves a meal first then gear up. No slip-ups, understood?"
"Understood, sir." Chorused the crowd.
「Count Mott's Estate, 2000 hrs. 」
The Count had spent most of his day finishing up a few reports. Both on behalf of Tristain and for his other benefactors. Unable to relieve himself with his usual hobbies. He felt incredibly pent up as more and more work piled upon his desk.
He hadn't even had the time to spend with the maid he'd acquired from the Director a few days ago. Who, for the most time, had just spent her time doing odd chores all over the estate. Ranging from helping tend to his gardens, cleaning, and delivering refreshments to his numerous guards. While her uniform courtesy of the Count made her look quite appealing. He'd rather see the woman disheveled and whimpering in front of him.
A slight pang of jealousy threatened to appear at the thought of having her be taken behind his back. But, he pushed the thought out of mind. For tonight, he'd planned to finally make her, his.
He promised to himself he'd do such a thing tonight. No use keeping it all inside, his father would say. And he fully intended to enjoy it. After dinner he'd only have another hour of paperwork to do before he could fully enjoy his vice.
Having worked only odd jobs around the manor the past few days, Siesta felt anxiety build up inside her. While she was at the time grateful for it, she now dreaded what lay ahead for thought of having to be taken by someone of the Count's reputation was something that put her ill at ease.
As she disrobed herself of her rather risque maid uniform, courtesy of the Count. She had been ordered into wearing something even more revealing. She blushed at the thought.
She hadn't expected her first to be like this. With a heavy sigh she went off to change. Her new 'Master' would have his way with her soon. She could only sigh in shame at what was to come. Though she inwardly prayed that her family be left safe and sound as the Count had promised.
"Please, Make Yourself at Home."
/ Count Mott's Estate, Outskirts, 2100 hrs. /
The sun had set hours ago. The twin moons of Halkeginia provided the only source of illumination in the pitch black of the night sky. The Count's estate was in a quiet sort of mood as the only signs of any people at all were the occasional roaming lights of torches held by the guards on the outside of the estate walls.
Underneath the night sky, stood a pair of Guards. Blue and Red moons shone on the darkness below, giving off a faint glimmer to the metal of their armors. The pair were dressed rather immaculately for those within their line of work. Having been made to wear some stifling clothing, picked out of the Count's own unusual choice of aesthetics. It was uncomfortable for many of them as they'd often just choose to rather be in their casual attire when off-duty instead.
"Hey, you ever wonder why we're here?" One of them asked. He had a red sash fashioned on top of his armor. They were given this much lee-way for their uniforms at least. To help differentiate them as the Count never bothered with learning their names.
"It's one of life's greatest mysteries isn't it? Why are we here? Are we the product of some vast cosmic coincidence, or is The Founder himself really up there with a plan for all of us?" The other one replied. Wearing an orange sash on top of his armor. "I don't know. But it keeps me up at night." He finished.
The one with the red sash seemed confused. "No. I mean why are we here? Protecting this bastard of a Count? You've heard the rumors about the man's hobbies. In fact you could even hear it going on at night if you listened closely." He continued.
"Oh, I'm just in it for the écu. I figured nobody would be brazen enough to attack a Count. Easy payment." The orange one freely admitted. Though he did grimace at the thought of doing nothing when they knew what went on behind their backs.
"Well I can't fault you for that. But, what was all that about life though? Do you want to talk about it?" He questioned his companion. Trying to put their previous discussion out of mind.
The orange one turned to the other. As he was about to speak he was interrupted by a rustling in the forest.
"Wait, quiet down. I hear something." He told the other man.
"I don't hear anythi-'' the man was about to say, before he was cut off by a blur of shimmering air.
From where he once stood he had been knocked down. An unseen and unstoppable force had seemed to pin the man down with the sickening crunch of bones signifying his companion's defeat. It held his fellow guard down and knocked him unconscious as it set his weight upon him. Threatening to crush him to death with the sheer weight of him before materializing into view. A giant of a man that towered over the guard had crouched upon the body of his fallen comrade.
Its faceless gaze turned to the remaining guard who had stood there in shock. The man-like creature had stood in front of him now. At a height of 6'8. It looked taller than the average human. Much more menacing too with its faceless gaze. An orange dome which looked like glass but its body was coated black as the night around them. Before he could react the creature had grabbed him.
It began to do the same to him as his companion and he soon took a dirt nap as well. From his perspective it seemed to last an agonizing eternity before he fell. But to the Spartan who took him down. It was only in under a few seconds.
With the two guards now neutralized, the Spartan motioned to the unseen forces hidden under the foliage. They had found their way in.
/ Count Mott's Estate, Inside Perimeter, 2110 hrs. /
Over the last few minutes they had been here. The ODSTs and Spartan had neutralized many of the guards the Count had hired. Many of them were under equipped and unprepared for the skirmish ahead.
To their perspective, it seemed the Count had a paper army at his disposal. Numerous but weak. They were dispatched with relative ease as the army for hire could barely keep up at the speed they had been going. Breezing through much of their meager defenses.
Those that they could take out non-lethally, they did so with precision. Those they could not, they took out with ruthless efficiency. 5.23mm M443 Caseless FMJ ammunition from their SMGs made sure of that.
Cutting through the ground's opulent and gaudy architecture on the outside. They had found the Barracks within a few minutes of entering the estate.
From the outside, the only signs of life inside were a dim light that could be seen illuminating the room from the windows.
A dull orange glow signifying that they had to have been asleep. With the rate they took to overwhelm many of the Count's men, they hadn't had the time to raise an alarm yet. The ODSTs stacked up against the door with the Spartan leading from the front.
David saw the men with him were tense. So far, they'd had the element of surprise with them when they took down the stray guards around the perimeter. But now, they were about to jump into the proverbial frying pan. Getting up close in the thick of the fighting was never a pretty thing. He couldn't fault them for having second thoughts on taking a life so intimately.
He noticed that one of the men, Corporal DiMaggio, if he remembered right. Was particularly nervous. His body language betrayed any sign of calm when he was visibly trying to hype himself up.
The man beside him noticed. Another member of his squad. He tapped the Corporal on the shoulder, shaking him out of his little moment. With everyone else now back in the full swing of things, the Spartan motioned for everyone else to get ready as he took point.
Equipping himself with tear gas, the Spartan chucked it into the room after bashing the door open. The sound of the canisters popping off and the agonized screams from the remaining garrison afterwards had now alerted the rest of the estate to their incursion.
The unprepared guards gagged and choked as the smoke proliferated throughout the room. The Spartan leading the charge had taken care to disarm those that he could find who struggled to scramble for their weaponry. Thankfully for them, it seemed they didn't have much of an opposition left.
"Restrain them!" Shouted Sargeant Dizdar as the rest of the team started moving in. While it would have been easy to kill these dazed men. They felt that they did not need to take any lives if it wasn't necessary. The last thing they needed was to be labeled as murderers and having the accusation of them being nothing but bloodthirsty savages on their mind. But, he knew it wouldn't remain this easy for long.
Finding a long piece of rope inside one of the building's closets. He had his men tie the guards together in one big bundle. Crude, but effective. He would not expect them to flee if they were smart enough to realize the situation.
Seeing their job done, they began to move to their main target after letting the Marines in. The Count's Manor.
「 Count Mott's Estate, inside the Manor, 2115 hrs. 」
Count Mott felt irritated at the trouble his men were facing tonight. From what he could hear outside: the sporadic gunfire and the shouts of men screaming in agony. He could tell something was amiss.
I'm being attacked! Such insolence! Who dares disturb me at this hour of night? Once I get my hands on them they'll answer for this slight! He thought to himself as he grumbled and fumbled into his clothing and picked up his wand from within his dresser. He'd been annoyed at having to deal with a job his men were supposed to do.
After all, he couldn't hear the sounds of spells being cast. Which could only mean one thing. Those damn peasants!
He didn't know how. But they must've acquired an ample amount of muskets and gunpowder. If the sporadic shots weren't obvious enough. But if it was a peasant led attack. He was more than capable of dealing with it.
A simple spell to turn the very ground they stood on into a quagmire of mud and they'd be apprehended in no time. He knew he had to make an example out of them later once he had his hands on them.
With an air of confidence. He stormed out of his room. Wand at the ready. Wearing only his nightwear. He made to sally forth and meet these interlopers.
As he made his way through the halls from his bedroom and into the main halls of the Manor. The sound of his bodyguards barking orders at each other could be heard filling the room. How could they have such trouble from a band of mere peasants? The answer came when the doors to his home burst open.
To their surprise however, instead of the peasants immediately charging into their assured demise. They'd tossed in some strange metallic canisters. Had they run out of ammo? He wasn't sure how this was going to he-
Ringing...
In the midst of the noise and disorientation he could only hear the sound of his ears ringing and a brilliant flash engulfed his view. Briefly blinded and lost as to what to do, he was pulled out of the mess by one of his men.
As soon as the effects began to dissipate, the sounds of combat still lingered on. Becoming closer and closer to his current position as he regained his bearing. As he looked towards the scene of devastation, he happened to see what had become of those who were nearest to the miniature explosions.
When it exploded in a blinding white light and deafening roar, it had left many of the nearby guards disoriented. They were swiftly taken down with ease by the strangely armored men. They were oddly dressed to the eye of the natives. With some of them wearing darker colors and the rest being some drab green shade. But, what they had in common was the fact that they were armored. Though, they now realized they couldn't possibly be wearing ordinary steel plate armor as the Knights and Mercenaries of the land often did.
As the Count saw one of his own men attempt to shoot at the armored figures. His musket's projectile merely bounced off the enemy. Ricocheting off of his plates and impacting the wall adjacent to him in a subdued explosion of shrapnel.
Impossible! This had to be a dream. Jules de Mott could not believe what he was seeing with his own eyes. Like an unending tidal wave, they seemed relentless as they pressed onwards with the sparks of lead pinging off them.
Thinking quickly, he turned to the remaining guards at his command. "What in the Hel are you waiting for?!" The Count shouted.
The guards were broken out of their shock at the Count's urges and moved to fire back. Forming a line for him to hide behind whilst he gathered his wits about him. They fired as one, obscuring the room with their thick smoke and caused a brief lull in the fighting. Were they dead? They were surprised to hear the sound of a single groan emanate from the other end as the smoke began to clear.
They had hit an unfortunate bastard. He'd had his sleeves rolled up, exposing his arms and was relatively lightly armored compared to the rest of the enemy. He screamed in pain as he started feeling around the affected area before promptly collapsing in shock.
The small victory gave the men assurance. They could bleed! And if they could bleed, they could be killed. Although one of them had to admit, they didn't exactly see red pouring out of the man.
The injured enemy was dragged back by his comrades into the safety of cover. Before promptly returning the favor with a barrage of overwhelming firepower which arrived in extremely fast bursts in-between shots.
"GET THE FUCKERS!" Yelled one of the armored men in front of them. Throwing caution to the wind. He had let loose a torrent of gunfire with his weapon.
Rapid thunders of fire and lead spewed forth from his Assault Rifle. Riddling holes into the walls, mercenaries, and furniture around them. When it was all over, the clattering of metal hitting the floor was the only thing they could hear after the shooting ended.
What had once been a score of men in the hallway, hiding behind a makeshift barricade and forming a volley. Was reduced to a mess of splinters and bodies. Blood caked the walls and floor beside them, alongside their shattered equipment.
But the Count was nowhere to be seen. He had fled further inside in the midst of things.
"Medic!" A Marine yelled out as he tended to their injured squadmate.
"You're gonna be fine, Pietro. Quit crying!" Said the Marine who was helping dress his wound.
"Easy for you to say! I'm the one with the lead ball inside him! Fuck!" He cursed.
"Calm down!" Shouted the Medic. "It didn't punch through your BDU's." He pointed at the affected area on his shoulder.
"You're probably bruised underneath but for the love of God, man. Hold still and let me check!" The Medic grumbled. There was no room to argue with the man responsible for keeping everyone else in the squad alive.
Hearing the commotion, Sergeant Dizdar's squad and the Spartan had run up to their location. The ODSTs and Spartan were busy elsewhere. Checking the other wings of the Manor hoping to catch the Count before he tried to escape.
"What happened here?" Asked the Spartan. All eyes were on him when he spoke.
"Private Pietro got hit by a stray shot, sir. Poor bastard's gonna feel the bruising tomorrow. Had his arms exposed when the ball struck him." Answered the Medic as he held out a tiny deformed metal ball in the palm of his hands. He'd taken over from the Marine who dressed the Private's injuries.
"Move him to the rear. We still have a job to do." Ordered the Spartan.
"Copy that, uhh... sir." Responded the Marine.
It was a little informal for the Spartan's liking. But he ignored it for now. The mission came first. He looked at another Marine. This one looking at the pile of bodies and debris they'd made. His eyes were off staring into the distance at what he'd just done upon his fellow man. David could see that the Marine was visibly shaking at the carnage before him. His hold on his Assault Rifle was wobbling as he struggled to stand.
"Any sign of the Count?" The Spartan asked, breaking him out of his daze.
"N-no, sir. He seems to have used his men as a distraction while he fled deeper inside." The Marine replied, startled.
David then turned to Sergeant Dizdar. "Have your men search for Intel. I'm going after the Count." He ordered.
The Spartan sprinted off into the direction where the Count was assumed to have gone before anyone else could really object. Leaving the rest of them bewildered.
This was bad. This had gotten out of hand. Mott had locked himself in his room. The Maid he had 'requested' stood terrified as he barged in like a rabid pig attempting to escape his demise. He'd intended to use her as a shield. To Hel with all of this. I'll make the bastards pay when they come through! He thought to himself as he began thinking of ways to get through this.
He could always attempt to flood the room and then freeze their bodies solid before they could even react. If the commoner's crude muskets could unleash such devastating power, then surely his magic could do so twicefold. All sorts of theories raced their course in his head as he figured out his next move, only to be interrupted by a rattling noise originating from the doorway.
The door to his room was broken open with a heavy kick. Revealing the intimidating figure of a heavily armored man. Clad in all black armor, it had cut an imposing form. Standing easily taller than him as its faceless head stared back, the Count lost all his wits about him.
"Stay back!" The Count shouted.
"I am known as Mott the Wave! A Triangle-class Water Mage, and I will not allow myself to be pushed around like this!" He said to the figure at the door in an attempt of intimidation.
It did not seemingly work as the figure stood stoically. Unperturbed by his outburst. A pause was held between them as the cries of the maid was the only thing that gave the room any sound. It was the beginning of a stand-off. A challenge the Count recognized from his younger years when he'd often got into trouble with other noble brats.
He shuffled his position slightly. The Count wasn't sure what the tall figure was trying to do. But it was surely no good.
"Stay back! I'm warning you!" The Count kept shouting. But the figure seemed undeterred. Slowly creeping forward. Each step seemingly heavier than the last, it inched closer and closer towards him.
The Maid he held captive took the opportunity with the Count distracted as he stared intently at the figure. As she bit into the arm holding her, the Count yelped in pain.
The figure then burst into a sprint. Far faster than the Count's eyes could follow.
Impossible! Such speeds could only be achieved by a skilled wind mage when applied to their own body. But I see no signs of magic coming from hi-
A fist had hit him in the face. Interrupting his train of thought. His grip loosening, the Maid fell out of his hands and moved away.
"Y-you dare hit a Noble?! When The Royal Crown hears of this. They will have your head!" He shouted back.
The figure only responded by hitting the Count again, and again, and again, and again, and again. Knocking him unconscious. Though his face now resembled a mangled mess with the fury of the fists that rained on it.
The Maid looked terrified at what had become of her "Master." Wondering if the same fate awaited her.
The figure turned to her and said calmly. "You're safe now. We'll get you home." In a voice that was far rougher than she expected. Though she couldn't understand why they'd done all this.
Across the room. The familiar black uniforms of the ODSTs came into view. Recognizable on their shoulders were the insignia of the UNSC. They had come to rescue her! She smiled at the thought, forgetting the previous horrors she had just seen. Maybe her grandfather's words of them never leaving a man behind was true after all.
"Great work, Spartan." Sergeant Dizdar approached. "I see you got the bastard too. I wouldn't have minded hitting him a few times myself." He stared in disgust at the unconscious figure before them. Resisting the urge to spit in disgust.
"We're taking him back to the Eternity." The Spartan said as he turned to Dizdar. "The Intel. Do you have it?"
"Neatly secured. The Count was kind enough to have all his contacts and reports organized." Sergeant Dizdar said while tapping on a briefcase they had brought with them to store the documents in. "This will make the ONI spooks' jobs a helluva lot easier I reckon." Sergeant Dizdar returned with a triumphant smile.
"As for you, ma'am." Sergeant Dizdar turned to Siesta. "Captain Morgan would like to formally invite you aboard the Eternity. He has a lot of questions for you."
/ Count Mott's Estate, outside, 2130 hrs. /
The raid had taken roughly thirty minutes. But their job wasn't over yet. They still had to get home.
As soon as they had accomplished their primary objectives, they freed the incapacitated guards from the barracks after they promised not to fight back. Giving them free reign over the Count's estate with the noble no longer being able to have a say in anything.
Greedy eyes of underpaid mercenaries eyed the lavish estate with avarice as they immediately began tearing apart the place and stealing valuables as the UNSC made a quick getaway.
The ODSTs, Spartan and Marines with the Count and Siesta in tow. Made their way through the forest in the dead of night. Taking care to obscure their tracks as they went. After a few hundred meters of travel along thick foliage and confusing bends and turns. They reached a clearing.
Occupied by the sight of a land vehicle that was waiting for them. A six-wheeled monstrosity of a transport vehicle, painted in the signature olive green of the UNSC. It nearly blended into the dark of the night at this late hour, effectively camouflaging it. It was an M650 Mastodon. One of the few APCs the UNSC operated.
Due to the size of the vehicle. They were all able to fit inside. Albeit, cramped with all the munitions and equipment in the interior.
"Fuel tanks check, passengers check." The driver of the APC said as everyone began to enter from the rear.
As soon as everyone found a comfortable spot to rest inside, the Driver turned to ask. "Y'all good to go back there?"
"We're good." Sargeant Dizdar responded for them as he gave a thumbs up.
"Alright, next stop. Alpha Base. Get yourselves comfortable, Lady and Gentlemen. It's gonna be a long ride."
Author's Notes:
Welp, now that's done. Raid ended up shorter than I liked. But I guess you could chalk it up to them having a Spartan with them. Pretty sure that's what the III's were meant for anyway.
I was going to try to make the Count's scenes longer but I didn't feel comfortable writing from his perspective. I'm not that depraved.
As for the action scenes. I'm not really that confident in writing those. So if it comes off weird or bad, do tell me. I'll take whatever suggestions you have into consideration.
As for the windstone thing. I do have a plan for that particular plot. But that's long into the story. Probably by 20-30 chapters in. I don't expect to be able to write past 50 chapters. Not unless I start introducing other elements. Which I'm not comfortable with at the moment. For now. I have a rough idea of the story direction.
[!] As for the injured Marine. I know that 26th Century body armor would be more than capable of protecting someone from musket fire. But that would hardly be entertaining enough if the UNSC could just curbstomp their way through every problem unopposed. Nothing a can of biofoam and a trip to the doctor can't fix either. [!]
Update: Okay, I realize how silly it would seem for 26th Century armor to be penetrated through by muskets. Edited the scene slightly.
Update 2: Changed a character name.
Also tried a different format with the dates and such for this chapter. With /Location, Date, Time] for the UNSC perspectives. And 「Location, Date, Time」 for the Halkeginian perspectives. To better differentiate between the two. Also noticeable would be the reduced amount of Tristainian/French in UNSC PoV's. I imagine their own translators would make that not much of a problem for them.
Update 3: Re-wrote portions of this chapter to line up with the new canon. Also made major changes to David. Made him a Gamma Company S-III instead. So, that's going to end well.
Update 4: Added a little bit of character moments I felt I neglected for this chapter.
If you have any suggestions or comments. Feel free to join the Discord server: /sDgJN8F4tY
Thanks for reading. And as always. I'll see you in the next one. じゃ、またね