Author's note: I'm pleased that people are enjoying this story so far. Short author's note, but I'll answer questions here. You can also message me if you have any questions that are pressing and you don't wanna wait for a new chapter upload.
To nliochristou: We'll get there soon enough! Other Spartan IVs will have their roles, but there's a stigma around Palmer that plenty of people seem to have. She'll be one of the primary characters and hopefully I can breathe a little more life into her than 4 and 5 did, outside of Spartan Ops, because I never had a problem with her.
To Tori the Coviekiller: Thanks for sticking around! I always get all giddy when I see long reviews, even moreso when someone tells me that my work has been a favorite and worthy of rereads. I appreciate your continued reading, and I hope I can keep you around until the end!
To Qrs-jg: A very good observation. One of the things I disliked about the Spartan IV program was their cockiness and sense of invincibility. I'm pleased with the train of thought you've started conducting here. On the topic of Osman, well, that's classified. I look forward to hearing your thoughts as this goes on though.
"Hey, check it out!"
"No way… a Spartan!?"
"For real? You guys better not be shi-"
"No, man, I'm serious! She's here!"
- Wounded Marines upon seeing a Spartan returning to the battlefield after all reports stated they had been killed, 2552, Battle of Voi.
Green eyes roved over the document being displayed on the screen in the Infinity's primary briefing room. Morgan stood off to the side in her armor with her helmet off, crossing her arms and taking in every detail. Others sat in their assigned chairs, key members and heads of the different departments and units that would be most useful when the contents of the document were brought up.
Something had happened a few years back, involving a Forerunner artifact that had given a burst of data, deciphered as a set of coordinates for a Forerunner world or installation. Nobody knew exactly what it was, but contingency plans were always important. She felt for the officers that had to create plan upon plan when some of them – most of them – wouldn't work. Then again, they did sign up for it, so she couldn't offer too much pity.
A cursory glance around the room showed a multitude of personnel. Del Rio and Lasky in the front, on either side of the screen. Several men in lab coats sat in a group near the front, members of Infinity's science department.
Personnel wearing the fatigues of a marine ground commander, including a stocky colonel and his top NCO were near the middle, both taking notes. Another pair of men in the black fatigues of ODSTs were nearby, and her eyes roved over the face of an ODST captain and a more familiar face, one Master Sergeant Marcus Stacker. They had locked eyes in the beginning of the briefing, but had no time to talk or connect. She would catch him another time, when there was less preparation to do. Another set of officers and NCOs served as the ship's vehicle commanders, ready to operate the heavy machinery that was stored in the hangar in case of a massive assault that would require a mammoth. As far as she could tell, a brigade's worth of Marines were onboard, along with a battalion of ODSTs, at the least. Infinity could conduct a protracted ground war with those numbers alone.
Next, she caught sight of several pilots, wearing Navy and Marine flight suits. A commander in charge of the CAG, a couple of lieutenant commanders in charge of subunits and different squadrons, and the dropship corps, almost all piloted by Marines. She had seen Hocus in there somewhere, but they would speak later. Even now, she could see her wife taking notes and muttering to one of the other pilots about something, completely invested in the briefing.
Other, smaller departments were involved, such as engineering, but they were less likely to be needed, only attached to the briefing to be aware of a sudden change to combat operations if need be.
Finally, the Spartan Branch. That was her playing field. Behind her, Sarah Palmer stood quietly, taking notes of her own for Morgan. It had been a few weeks since the simulation with Vegas, and Palmer had simmered about the lesson that Morgan had tried to teach until it finally got completely through her head, and they returned to how things had been. If anything, Palmer had improved slightly as a fireteam leader in subsequent War Games simulations, and Morgan was pleased with progress, even if it wasn't too much. But, progress was progress.
Another teal colored Spartan was off to Palmer's right. Wearing the Atlas armor variant, the Spartan was bulky and cut an imposing figure slightly larger than Morgan's, even with her oversized pauldrons and angular chest piece. His helmet was on, reflecting the world through a visor that was a similar golden color to Morgan's own. While Palmer might have been one of her top fireteam leaders and a company level commander that would help with the later brief of the rest of the Spartans, Spartan Paul August was a dedicated staff member and operator for the Spartan Branch. He would also act as a member of Morgan's own fireteam should she ever need to actually deploy. Her days of running on her own were over again, but for how long, she had no idea.
During combat operations where she commanded from Infinity, he would be an operator, guiding fireteams on the ground and speaking with her voice, giving her orders when she was overseeing other elements of operations. But on the ground, when she stepped onto the field herself, he would be almost like a body guard more than a fighter, carrying a heavily modified SAW for Spartan use to pin enemies down while she closed and engaged with the enemy with her shotgun. There were others, but he was the best when it came to a mix of on and off the field operations on her staff.
Del Rio's voice droned on as he went to the next slide. "Coordinates from the artifact have been deemed by FLEETCOM to have some significance, and Infinity has been dispatched to observe and report findings after investigating whatever may be waiting for us. That being said, we're an estimated 12 hours out from our destination. Consider the location to be hostile, and move your units to REDCON 2, prepare to deploy immediately should the need arise."
He clicked onto the next slide, and started to open his mouth, when Monsoon appeared on the AI pedestal next to him. "Captain, sensors report a distress signal, standard UNSC frequency, but an older reporting code. It's the signal we picked up at our last course change."
Frowning, Del Rio's face changed, his ever present sneer only looking like he had been personally insulted by the AI's entrance to his briefing. "And?"
"Still investigating, but initial coordinates report it to be…" She stopped for a moment, an eternity in the time of an AI. "It's right on top of the coordinates for our artifact, sir."
Del Rio's sneer worsened, and he put his hands behind his back. "Understood. Commander Lasky, continue the briefing. I'll be returning to the bridge to oversee our approach."
Without another word or waiting for a response, Del Rio left the briefing room, and several people in the seats surrounding the room seemed a little more ill at ease, but they hid it well.
Lasky watched as the captain left, and he seemed to think for a moment, before continuing on as if nothing had happened. "REDCON 2. Independent briefings will be held, and you can act as you see fit to properly maintain readiness. Flight ops will prepare scheduled rotations for fighter support, at least one battalion of Marines will stand ready to deploy on Pelicans with light ground assets. ODSTs are on alert 5 until further notice. Operational posture will be kept at Radiant Spear, maintain high tempo operational capability for the next 24 hours or until posture change, whichever comes first. Any questions?" No hands were raised. Ultimately, all the commanders in the room had operational authority to handle anything minor. All that this briefing was for was to set the wide ranging application of force and readiness. How things progressed at a minute level would be up to the commanders themselves. "Good. Dismissed."
People started to stand and file out slowly, muttering to each other and finishing their notes before they left. Morgan locked eyes with Hocus at one point as the pilot turned to leave, but neither moved to talk. They hadn't had much time together since the tour had started. Maybe a couple hours in total over the last month or so. It wasn't optimal, but it got them a little bit of a reprieve when the days were done. All they really got to do anymore together was sleep, and even that was impossible some days.
Morgan tore her eyes away as her wife disappeared around the bulkhead leading out of the room, and looked back to August. "Get all that?"
His accent was Canadian, one quick to respond. "Yeah, boss. Already sent it to all the company commanders. They'll be doing their own briefings and coordinating to get all their ducks in a row for a multi-force deployment if need be."
"Very good. And staff?"
"Same thing. Already drawing up plans for larger operations and setting rotation for the companies."
Morgan nodded, almost to herself as she slipped her helmet back on. They would remain in their armor until contact and assume the worst, only leaving it when it was time to stand down. All 300 Spartans on Infinity were armed up and ready to fight at first notice.
She needed to return to the command center for the Spartans onboard, located near the main bridge, with an alternate location on S Deck, where the rigging facility was. Her staff would meet her there. They would act as operator personnel for teams on the ground or, in case of an operation where she had to deploy for some reason or another, they would deploy with her as her own fireteam, one she'd not yet dubbed. At that point, alternate personnel from the aft bridge would be brought into play in order to provide support for Spartan Operations with a direct line to Del Rio or Lasky as needed.
Lasky was still in the room, finishing looking over the briefing slides himself, but ever mindful of the three Spartans that had been left, speaking to each other in their helmets and standing as still as statues. When Morgan turned to see him, she thought of something, before looking to her two aides. Activating her helmet speakers, she spoke up. "Palmer, August, move out. Palmer can start briefing her team and company, and August, you'll take up the staff and prep them. Weapons loadouts, armor checks, and medical. Be ready to deploy before our time is up."
With two positive responses, the Spartans filed out, leaving Morgan with Lasky. He glanced over at her. "Commander. Can I help you with something?"
"Wanted to know more about the distress signal. We know any details on it or just coordinates?"
Lasky crossed his arms, turning to face her fully. "Just coordinates for now. Picked it up a couple hours ago when we dropped out of slipspace to change course, but seems like we're close enough now that Monsoon's got an idea of what it may or may not be." He shrugged, unsure of it himself. "We're sailing blind for the most part. No idea what's out there in the black."
"Understood."
"One last bit, before we break away. Spartans will be first boots on the ground, wherever this thing is. Pick a group of ten teams. They'll be our vanguard. Other than that, use your last few hours wisely. I'd like it if you spent the last three hours of our trip on the main bridge with us, give your insight into things and be ready to move to the Spartan bridge for immediate combat operations once we've got eyes on."
"Yes, sir. I'll be there."
"Good. I'll see you then, Spartan."
Morgan nodded and left without another word, making her way back down to S Deck, where her team was orchestrating the whole thing until she arrived. Spartan August was already in place, passing things on and getting the ball rolling. Palmer and other commanders were briefing in larger groups. The company structure was far looser than in a regular Marine company. It was only truly in place for organizational purposes. Otherwise, fireteams would deploy and act independently of each other and be handled by an operator as needed. Flexibility was key in Spartan operations.
Hours passed by as Morgan collected reports, plans, and got her staff together to plug everything into place in one larger plan. Updates came from Marine ground and air elements, and she implemented those too, slotting fireteams where they would be best, figuring out a schedule for deployment between teams that had similar functions, and ultimately making sure nobody would trip over each other.
Finally, the time came to return to the main bridge and conduct operations from there. Keying the comm for the rigging deck, she gave her orders. "All fireteams, commence final checks and inspections, report to hangars as ordered when complete." Releasing her mic, she looked at her staff.
"Rest of you, get to the Spartan bridge and get it set up for me to move there after. Castille, you're in charge until then. Grab gear prior just in case."
Spartan Helen Castille, a former combat surgeon in the Marines, nodded to her. "I'll get it done, ma'am." With that, she held her helmet up, the last piece of the dark naval blue colored Scanner variant armor. The visor attachment was pushed up for the time being, and she slid it onto her head before rapping her armored knuckles against the side, the signal for the rest to suit up. August and the two other members of her team donned their helmets as well, before they all filed out, with Morgan taking up the rear.
She peeled off from them early on, moving for the main bridge. They would gather her weapons and ammunition for her, knowing by now what she would carry and her preferences. It made it easier and faster than her going there as well. Until she met up with them again, though, she would be working with just the pistol on her thigh.
Stepping onto the bridge, her arrival caught Lasky's eyes, and several of the bridge crew, but they quickly went back to what they were doing. Morgan stepped up to the holographic table that Del Rio and Lasky were next to, looking at its contents. Del Rio had his face buried in it, and Lasky glanced up to her again.
"Any changes?" She was quick to get the situation into her mind.
Lasky nodded. "Our calculations were wrong. We're only an hour out from the coordinates now, and the distress signal shifted with it. We're picking it up through slipspace now."
An eyebrow raised in her helmet. "So it's capable of transmitting through slipspace?"
"Seems like it."
Morgan frowned. "Then we should have picked it up earlier."
Del Rio spoke up this time. "It doesn't change anything about our situation."
She was about to respond when a crewman called out. "Sir! We're getting distortion, but the signal is clear enough that we're able to cross check it!"
Del Rio crossed his arms, looking squarely at the crewman. "What are you getting from it?"
The crewman started typing in the information, and after a moment, he paled slightly. "It's… the transponder code for the Forward Unto Dawn."
Several eyes cut towards him before returning to their stations, but Morgan's eyes remained locked on him, and she moved over to his station, not wanting to believe it was true, lest her hopes turn into ash in her mouth. "Are you certain?"
"Yes, ma'am. I've run it again and it's a complete match."
She felt her gut start to tighten again, and scanned over the contents of his screen, taking in the information before she reached around the crewman, inputting the information for a third time, personally wanting to ensure it was complete.
When the database reference came back, it once again showed the Forward Unto Dawn's transponder code was a perfect match.
She bit her lip, straightening slowly. Looking back at Lasky and Del Rio, she nodded wordlessly. The two shared a glance, before Del Rio went about giving his orders for preparation to drop out of slipspace and raise shields and weapons. While still an hour out from the beacon, Morgan would have plenty of time to worry about what was lying in store for them.
The hour came and went, and Morgan had spent the entire time wondering if they would find what she expected when they got to it. A massive planetoid had been waiting for them when slipspace had spit them out. It was covered in artificial lines, and the planet seemed to be made out of metal. Wreckage was waiting for them, including a shredded Covenant cruiser.
There was no discernible entrance into the world, but the distress beacon was coming from what was essentially the center of it. Del Rio ordered an open channel, and started speaking once the broadcast started.
"This is the UNSC Infinity, responding to distress signal from UNSC Forward Unto Dawn. If you can hear this, respond immediately."
He waited for a few moments, before he repeated the message once, and then a final time. There was no response, and his scowl only deepened the crags of his face. Infinity closed on the world at a sedate pace, with little else to be done.
Morgan looked over the surface, her arms crossed. Something felt off about the place, but she couldn't quite place it. Maybe a surface mapping scan would show them an entrance into the sphere?
She was about to suggest it whenever something happened. On the surface of the planet, a single orange light appeared, glaring at them, before a beam shot out from it and hit the Infinity, widening and performing multiple passes.
Del Rio shouted an order to increase frontal shields, but they weren't being damaged. He started to move to the shielding control console to check it himself, but he didn't make it in time. Arcs of electricity started to shoot out from the console, and multiple others suffered similar issues as the bridge lights moved to the red of combat stations.
Monsoon appeared on the holotable. "Sir, we're being scanned by the planetoid. Multiple systems failures across the ship, including propulsion. Main reactor is offline. Secondary reactor is offline. Tertiary reactor is unstable and failing. MAC cannons are offline. Point defense systems are offline. Shielding is up but dropping at a rate of one percent every twelve seconds. All other systems remain online completely or partially."
Del Rio cursed. On the planet, something else changed. Several sections split and cracked, before sliding back across the surface and revealing a blinding light from the interior of the planet. The ship lurched under their feet, and Del Rio was brought down, Lasky grabbed at the holotable to steady himself, and Morgan's boots were mag locked to the deck to keep her steady. They were being pulled in, and with no way to stop it.
Del Rio got to his feet, a wound opened on his temple that was bleeding heavily, but wasn't a bad enough wound to warrant anything more than a squirt of biofoam that came from the underside of the holotable, and he dressed the wound quickly. "Open a ship wide channel!" He waited only a second. "All hands, brace for impact."
He cut the channel next and hit a panel on the holotable. Several restraint pods came from the decking, little more than a shock-absorbant pod with crash webbing and restraints that would protect commanders from additional impacts or lurches in such a situation. Strapping in, Lasky followed suit, and Morgan chose to remain on her own two legs. Her magboots would do the job easily enough.
They quickly approached the planet, with Infinity being buffeted the whole way as if being thrown about in a hurricane, but none of them had ever imagined something would exist that could just throw Infinity around like a child's toy.
"Captain, if we get pulled in there, there's no guarantee we're going to be able to get back out!" Lasky called out, watching through the frontal viewport as they rapidly approached.
"I know that!" Grimacing, he looked worse than usual. "Comm, record this message and leave a pod behind to retransmit on repeat!" When the tech nodded, Del Rio went on. "Mayday, mayday, mayday! This is the UNSC Infinity, an unknown entity has seized control of the ship and we are without power. We are being pulled in and on a collision course with an unidentified Forerunner planet!"
Pointing at the tech, the tech nodded again and slapped the control to launch the distress beacon. It was done, but they were still out of luck, and within another few minutes, they had been pulled through the hole in the planet, the white light not dimming, but features coming through. On either side of the viewport, her keen eyes could see details, almost like smoke or steam. Another few moments passed, and the bright light gave way to something more natural, revealing a blue sky as they passed through and into the planet's interior.
Electricity was arcing across the hull repeatedly, and with an open sky and ground beneath them finally, they were going to be going down hard. Green plains, blue water, and heavily wooded jungle made up several biomes as they dropped altitude faster and faster, and when they were about to impact, Morgan called out to brace, readying the bridge crew for what was going to be a very bad time.
At least, it would be for those that survived.
The ground rose up to meet them, and Infinity impacted as if Thor had rung the gong, a thunderclap going over the interior of the planet in all directions. A trench in the ground was ripped open like a darkened wound, gouged deep and traveling the three miles it took for the ship to finally come to a halt with a monstrous groan. Alarms went up all over the ship, injuries piled up like the people that hadn't braced well enough, dropped into a pile of themselves that may or may not get back up. One of the operators on the bridge had been launched out of his seat, his crash webbing having snapped and thrown him. Morgan looked over as soon as the shaking had stopped.
He didn't get back up, and from the way his back was contorted, he wouldn't ever be getting back up again.
Del Rio ordered the operators on the bridge that weren't in charge of weapons and shields to get on the task of contacting all departments and getting a status report. Lasky joined them, and Del Rio summoned Monsoon to quicken the process.
Morgan keyed her comms, opening one with all of the command personnel for the Spartans. "Status report."
August was the first to answer. "Banged up a little, ma'am, but no problems. Castille is already at work."
Palmer next. "Alpha Company is green."
Bravo Company's commander, Spartan Thomas Duren. "Bravo is fine, scrapes and bruises."
Spartan James Holter with Charlie rounded it off. "Charlie has a broken leg, one of us left a dent in the wall. Ready on your orders."
Morgan nodded to herself. "Good. Commanders, deploy your teams throughout the ship. We're on the back foot now and until we get Infinity off the ground again, we're playing defense. Charlie, you have the stern. Bravo, you're amidships. Alpha will handle the bow. Spread your teams on as many decks as you can handle while maintaining rapid response capability. Monsoon will be your primary operator for the time being. Further orders will pass through her. Stay vigilant, stay ready. Bailey out."
She cut the channel and glanced over at Monsoon. "Monsoon, you get all that?"
"Yes, Commander. I will deploy your Spartans as best I can."
"Appreciated." With little else to do, Morgan informed Lasky that she would be moving to the Spartan bridge, and when she left, she immediately opened another channel to someone a little closer.
The comm pickup wasn't immediate, but it didn't take forever. "Hocus here, Commander."
The accent her wife's voice was laced with always soothed her, and she committed it to her mind as a calming exercise. "Status?"
"Green, ma'am. Birds are still ready to fly if you need us."
"And you?"
"No injuries, ops had me on standby for second wave. Spilled my damn coffee though."
"Coffee grows on trees, Hocus. Contact me if anything changes."
"Yes'm. Out."
They remained professional, as much as they could given the situation. They were both hardened enough to know that attachment couldn't cloud their minds, couldn't let them get distracted during an incident. That led to deaths, and neither wanted to wonder what would happen if they got their partner killed. They had both lost too many to lose the most important piece.
Stepping onto the Spartan bridge, Morgan got to work. "What's changed since planetfall?"
Castille, having finished working on the injured crewmen in the Spartan bridge, reported. "Spartans and Marine forces are dispersing throughout the ship. Vehicle bay is a mess but they're bringing what they can online to aid in defensive posture. Warthog patrols so far through the maintenance corridors, working on getting them outside. A couple of Mantis walkers are getting spooled up and taking position near launchers on the exterior until they're back up."
A hum, and Morgan moved for the holographic table. "What about air assets?"
"Mostly CAP Pelicans that were sitting Alert Five. Troopships are grounded but ready, no need to scramble them yet."
The holotable showed the location of the Spartan bridge on a 3D model of Infinity, zooming out further to reveal the ship in its entirety, as well as small models of Pelicans that were being updated in real time with transponder data. Other small models showed up as well over time, including the aforementioned Mantises and a couple of Warthogs and other fast attack vehicles on the ground outside the crash site.
Nothing could be done for the moment, and all they could do was stay appraised of the situation and keep the roving bands of Spartans in check. After half an hour, something changed.
A warning icon, off to the starboard side and to the rear, showed an enemy aircraft was approaching rapidly, far faster than the speed of sound, and multiple other contacts were spotted as well, including Phantoms escorted by Banshee flights.
"Shit." Morgan spoke for all of them. "Prep the teams for anti-boarding operations. Covenant forces are inbound, and there's a lot of them."
Her staff and Monsoon did all the work for her, and when she called in to Del Rio, he was already aware of it.
"I see them, Commander. We're dealing with them as much as we can. Weapons are slowly coming online, but shields are still down. Keep whoever's knocking on our door off of my ship."
She didn't have time to respond, and the channel was cut. She cursed quietly. At the rate things were spiraling, it was only starting to look worse and worse with each passing minute.
With a moment's thought, she called out to Monsoon. "Monsoon, we're joining the defense of the ship. Anything big happens, notify me, but until then, we're joining the rest of the teams. Staff callsign is being updated, prepare for change."
"Yes, ma'am. Standing by for change, orders noted."
"Command fireteam will be designated Fireteam Crown."
"Noted, designation changed."
Finally, Morgan turned to her team. "Now it's time for us to move. We'll stay near the bridge, support Alpha if they need us, but primary objective is to ensure any breachers remain outside of it, rather than in. Where's my gear?"
August grabbed a case that held her shotgun, ammunition, and extra magazines for her pistol, handing it over to her. Slapping it down on the holotable, she grabbed the contents, put them in their places, and she was ready to fight.
Leaving the Spartan bridge at a jog, they made good time. It felt good to be able to heft the reassuring weight of a shotgun again. It was a new model, different from what she had used before, but it still worked the same. It would still spit out a cloud of buckshot and give someone plenty of new holes to breathe through and probably some lead poisoning.
Closing on the bridge again, they spread out in a blocking formation, each taking a position closer or further away from the bridge doors through the only access choke point. August would be the first contact, his heavy armor and LMG set up in a defensive position that would rip anything to shreds. Next was one of the other Spartans, Spartan Travis Wright, a former Force Recon Marine turned Spartan that wore blue Pathfinder armor. He was their point man and carried a heavily modified battle rifle that had been rechambered to fire a heavier round, while retaining enough ammunition to serve as a proper marksman rifle. A middle point between the high power, low capacity SRS series, and the still fairly strong battle rifles. Next was Castille, in the center to rapidly react to medical emergencies. Then Spartan Leonard Hammonds was next in cobalt colored Marauder pattern armor with a modernized MA5B and an attached underbarrel grenade launcher, ready for suppressive fire and maneuver tactics, the squad's raider. Finally, Morgan was the last step towards the bridge, remaining close by the door and the pair of Spartans that remained guarding it at all times.
Instead of waiting in the corridor that led straight to the door, she slipped into one of the side rooms dedicated to commanding ground operations. Pulling up the model of the ship once more, she watched as more and more sections of the ship were breached by enemy forces, as well as watching Pelicans and Phantoms duke it out in the sky. The unidentified object that had been the first contact was a sphere, fairly large, and it remained inert most of the time. All it ever seemed to do was to scan the ship, similarly to the planet's scanning before pulling them in.
She wasn't in there for long when her watch was interrupted. Stepping into the room, Commander Lasky gave her new orders. "Get your team, we're sending recon birds out. Monsoon has found out that what pulled us in was a gravity well of some sort, like a tractor beam. Signals in the jungle around the ship are possible connection points to a larger system that might be able to help us find out what's wrong. Maybe be able to find the cartographer for this place."
"Understood. I'll get it done."
"Just one more thing, Commander. I'll be going with you."
Inside, Morgan frowned. He wasn't a Spartan, and he was the ship's XO. Why was he intent on going out into the field? All this would do was increase the chance of something going wrong, and she didn't like babysitting. "Am I going to be able to talk you out of it?" He shook his head, and she sighed into her helmet as she keyed a comms channel. "Crown, we're moving for the hangars and going for a walk."
Four green status lights winked back, and she moved past Lasky to the door, waiting for her team to come into view before she gestured him forward. She wasn't happy about this at all, but he had enough authority to tell her to shove it if she disagreed.
Entering the hangar, several Pelicans were already stopped and waiting for her team. Others were filled with Marines, ready to go out in the jungle and do what Marines did. The Spartans would remain here, save for Crown.
When she filed into the bird, she stepped into the cockpit. A pilot and copilot were waiting, but neither was Hocus. "We ready?"
"Yes, ma'am. You were our last group. Lifting off and spreading out now in pairs."
With that, the Pelicans lifted from the deck and started to exit the hangar bays, and when they floated out, they were ignored by the large sphere. With no Phantoms or Banshees nearby and ready to bother them, though, it was a serene flight for a while.
But like all good things, it wouldn't last. Morgan was sitting near the bay door, ready to rush out whenever they touched down. It was closed, for obvious reasons, but the sight of orange colored bolts of energy passing by was enough to catch her attention, and she frowned as the Pelican started going evasive.
"What's going on up there?" She asked the pilots what was happening, and one of them grunted as they responded.
"Taking ground fire, unknown capability, but it's not fitting any of the weapons profiles we know of. Maybe small arms, but-" He was cut off as the Pelican was jolted heavily, nearly nosing down completely before he got a hold of it. "We just lost an engine! Mayday, mayday, mayday! Infinity, Echo Seven-One is hit and going down. Transponder active, setting down ten miles from the ship!"
The Pelican was hit again, and this time, a massive hole appeared in the bay floor as a round penetrated through and splashed against the ceiling, splattering against it and sending bits of energy out in all directions that did little to their shields, but Morgan was quick to shield Lasky either way.
Cursing under her breath, she turned to Lasky. "We're going down, ten miles out. Ground fire is hot and our LZ probably will be too. Get ready to move."
He nodded in response, his lips set in a tight line that did little to ease either of their minds as the Pelican rapidly lost altitude. Grabbing hold of the stability straps on the ceiling, Morgan held on, and waited for the impact as the world outside began to spin with the loss of power and sent the Pelican towards the ground.
Several revolutions and a five hundred meter drop in altitude had them smashing into the ground and skidding through a clearing until the Pelican slammed into a copse of trees and come to a groaning halt. Morgan's boots had kept her in place, but Lasky had been shoved against his restraints hard enough that it would leave some nasty bruising. The rest of the Spartans had been strapped in, for what little the straps would do, and mag locked their own boots. None of them had been forced out of their seats.
Immediately, she went for the cockpit, the door refusing to open from the damage, and so she forced it open and stepped in.
The co-pilot was slumped in his seat, limp and not responsive. Her check of his bio-signs got a negative response, and she frowned. The pilot would have been the same, but it seemed that one of the energy shots that had hit them had come up through the floor of the flight deck and disintegrated most of him. His body was gone, save for parts of his arms, still gripping the control stick and throttle bar.
Grimacing, she grabbed the co-pilot's dog tags and moved back into the blood tray. "Pilots didn't make it. We need to get out of this transport and make best time either toward our objective, or scrub it and find an LZ for evac."
Lasky frowned. "We're only a mile from our objective point. We can hoof it there and call for evac that way."
Morgan nodded. "Fine, we'll go for the objective. Until then, I'll try to connect with Echo Seven-Two." Her Spartans followed her orders without needing to micromanage, and Wright took point again, his modified battle rifle leading the way as she tried to raise Seven-Two's Marines. "This is Commander Bailey, Echo Seven-Two, say status."
There was nothing, and she tried again a few moments later as Fireteam Crown got underway and disappeared into the bushes. A third try finally got a response, and she felt some relief, even if the channel was tainted with static.
"This is Lance Corporal Espada, I read you, Commander. We were brought down by ground fire, same as you. Half our number are KIA and our team leader was killed in the crash. Sending transponder ping now."
Morgan waited another moment, before her HUD responded to the two way transponder ping that Marine armor had been outfitted with for more aid in maneuvering separately when units were split up. It was only a few hundred meters, and she could see a black smoke plume rising through the trees in that direction. "Copy all, Corporal. Dig in and wait. We'll pick you up and move for the objective. Give us ten at most."
Cutting the channel, Morgan called out to her team. "Some survivors made it out. We'll grab them and move for objective. Spread out and we'll make good time, hopefully."
They did, for a while, and halfway to the Marines, something changed. There was a feeling in Morgan's gut that told her something was about to go wrong. The hair on the back of her neck stood up, and she followed that warrior's instinct that had been honed for so many years before it took a break. Now, it was needed again.
There was an odd sound, like a whoosh, and the air started to shimmer between August, the second man in the column, and Hammonds, the center.
A massive creature made of steel and orange lighting seemed to appear out of thin air with a screech. Twin orange dots on its armored head were like lit coals, and its large body was larger than even two of the Spartans. One spindly arm had a weapon attached to the end, a rifle of some sort, and the other a large, glowing blade.
Her eyes latched on to it and her shotgun was up, the trigger already being pulled as she gave the order that her Spartans had picked up on with an enemy appearing in their midst.
"Focus fire!" Her cry went up even as the creature lifted its weapon arm and fired at Hammonds, the Spartan dodging, just barely, before the rest of them unloaded on it. It screamed at the fact that they seemed to be more competent than whatever else it had seen, and teleported again, coming out closer to Morgan.
It stepped out of its portal at her, blade already coming up in an arc. She was quick to push Lasky back, sending him to the ground as she backed up, shotgun raised and another shell going down the tube as time slowed down enough for her to properly react.
The blade missed, just barely, and scraped across her shields enough to bring them to near nothing. Her shot, however, was true. Pellets blasted from the barrel in a haze of smoke and fire, and hit the machine dead center. It went down with its chest caved in from the blast, but wasn't dead yet.
Moving to try and raise its weapon again, Morgan was quicker, closing the distance and bringing a heavily armored boot down on its rifle arm before racking the slide on the shotgun and pumping two more blasts into its chest.
Another scream, and it fell limp, before disintegrating into nothingness, but the rifle had been left behind, and Morgan frowned, bending down to scoop it up just in case before sliding it onto her back. A few moments passed before she called out. "Report!"
Several green lights went up in response, and Lasky was being helped to his feet by Castille. Glancing back at him, she breathed a sigh of relief. Things would only get worse from here.
"Castille, stick with Lasky. Rest of you, increase spacing, diamond formation. Any more of those big things come out at us, I want enough spacing that we don't club each other whipping around."
More status lights, and she took up a new position on the left side, while Lasky and Castille stuck in the center. They were able to get through the jungle until it got even denser, and went through more encounters with whatever those things had been, but few got as lucky as the first one, and her Spartans made short work of whatever else tried to stop them. The entirety of their trip had distant gunfire from Marine rifles and the same odd sound that came from those new enemy weapons before everything went quiet again. Morgan didn't like quiet.
The Marine transponder signal was nearby, and Morgan called out on the comms. "Corporal Espada, we're here, ready to move?" No answer, and she grimaced, but kept moving. "Corporal?" Her words seemed to have been pointless, as in front of her, Wright had stopped moving and held his hand up, a closed fist, before opening his hand and slicing it horizontally, palm down. Nothing good was in sight.
Moving forward, Morgan realized why. The Marines in question were scattered across a clearing, most of them having been shot by those nasty rifles the big bastards carried, and one had even been cut in half by one of the swords. She cursed softly to herself.
"Keep moving. Nothing we can do now. Gather tags on the way through but it's a secondary matter."
Green status lights, and Lasky didn't question her orders. He was out of his field, and he knew it. They continued on and scooped up whatever they could, with Morgan taking an actual assault rifle into her hands and handing it over to Lasky. His magnum was little more than a pea shooter as far as she was concerned, and he took it without any issues, as well as the additional mags, shoving them into the pockets on his uniform.
Carrying on through the jungle, they made it to their destination, and the jungle was cut short by a wide door that had a console on the right side. Her blue armored hand came up and gestured to it, her index and middle finger extending alone and gesturing towards the panel once, then again, before her hand returned to her shotgun. Get the door open, get inside, get back to Infinity.
Wright stepped up to the plate, his Pathfinder armor having an enhanced cyberwarfare suite integrated into it. He was able to make a path through foliage and steel alike with his armor and skillset. The rest covered, weapons up and scanning the trees, waiting for another mechanical demon to step out of nowhere and come at them.
But they were lucky enough to make it through the time it took to break into the room without any unwanted guests. A green light pinged on her squad's roster, and she sent one in return. The rest of the squad immediately started pulling back towards Wright, weapons up until they had all backed into the open door and Wright closed it off from the interior.
With their position safe for the time being, Morgan let her weapon down. "Wright, see if you can find a passthrough into the system through the door controls, or at least a place to begin. Rest of you, repack mags, stay ready. No reason to believe they can't attack us in here too just because the doors are shut."
Frowning, she moved closer to Lasky. "Regret leaving the ship yet?"
He returned the frown without knowing she was doing it. "Not exactly, but I think I should have let you all out here without me holding your leash."
"Honestly? Probably. I don't mind babysitting, but we're not exactly in a good position for it at the moment."
Lasky grimaced. "Sorry about that."
Morgan hummed in response as she got a contact on her motion tracker. This time it was friendly. There were no enemy contacts following it, but she was quick to respond. "Contact! Friendly!" Her eyes narrowed. A single contact? On the opposite side from Infinity? She had no idea how they had gotten where they were, but she would get them out of here one way or another. "Open the door, retrieve the contact, fall back inside. Move!"
Green lights all, and she stacked up on the door with them. They were spread across it, weapons up and ready to push out when it split open and started to rise and sink into the building itself. Her Spartans took the lead, and her shotgun was up as she scanned outside the door, but when she saw the figure standing there, her mouth went dry.
She saw a familiar figure in the olive colored armor that seemed as still as a statue, damaged and scratched to pieces, holding an assault rifle in practiced hands. There was nothing in the golden visor that spoke to her other than what she'd expected to be nothing more than a ghost. It had been too long, and she'd thought him dead, but standing in front of her was the Master Chief himself.
Her Spartans continued to clear the area, none of them distracted by the legendary Spartan that they had come to get. She swallowed, and their visors met. After a moment, she got her words back, looking him up and down.
"You haven't grown all that much since we last saw each other, Chief."
His gravelly baritone sounded just as it had the last time she'd seen him. "Sorry to disappoint."
Without really thinking, a ghost of a smile came to her face, and she came back to the battlefield. Calling out to Crown, she raised her weapon again and ordered them to retreat back into the structure and seal it. The Chief moved forward as well, his assault rifle clasped in steady hands as Lasky closed the distance, his hand already out.
"Tom Lasky, first officer on the Infinity. Never thought I'd see you again."
If the Chief recognized him, he didn't respond, but took the outstretched hand. Morgan was about to speak when her comms suite buzzed.
"...-ground forces are ordered to return to Infinity immediately!"
Morgan frowned at the sound of Del Rio's angry sounding orders. "Infinity Actual's on the comm, Commander. Responding now." She switched her speakers to send out comms chatter as well, and off to the side, she saw Wright look back at her with a thumbs up. He had found their objective. "Infinity, this is Commander Bailey. We've accomplished our objective, but our bird's down and we have no contact with any other advance forces. Approximately 10 miles from the ship's drop site."
"Then return to the ship immediately. I need those coordinates."
She stopped for a second, confused, before going on. "Sir, we're going to need transport back to the ship or it'll-"
"Make it happen!"
She had no chance to respond when the comm cut out, and she felt a hint of anger. "Son of a bitch… Alright, we're in charge of sourcing a ride."
A familiar voice sounded from the Master Chief's direction. "You were sent out on a scouting run in the middle of an attack on the ship?"
Cortana's snark hadn't eased a bit. "Infinity was supposed to be capable of covering our flights with onboard weapons, but we weren't expecting native forces to be as beefy as they are." A pause. "Good to see you again, Cortana."
A hint of pleasure entered the AI's voice. "Likewise, Morgan."
Lasky finally entered the conversation. "If we're going to be getting a ride out of here, we'll need to clear an LZ or we're going to run out of breathing room real fast. I know you only just got here, Master Chief, but… you wouldn't be ready and willing to help us break open a landing zone, would you?"
The big man in his olive armor responded, a hint of a joke in his voice. "I could be persuaded." Lasky's face seemed confused, before the Chief went on. "I'll handle it and call back when it's been cleared."
Morgan was quick to join him. "I'll go as well. Crown, stay here, guard Lasky."
Green status lights responded quickly, and Crown dispersed throughout the room, weapons ready as Wright moved to join them at the door, one hand going to the back of his helmet as he went on with his other, inputting several commands on the control panel. He looked up to Morgan, his voice carrying through in a low pitch. "Be careful, Commander. No idea how many of those things might pop out at you. We'll be waiting. Here's the data we snatched," he finished, holding out a data chip that he had pulled from the helmet he wore.
Taking it, she slotted it into her own helmet and nodded at him, and the door started to shift open at the other Spartan's command, letting them step back out into the sunlight that could pierce the jungle canopy overhead. Then, as quick as it had opened, it closed behind them, and they were alone again.
Cortana's voice was almost cheery, in a sense. "Looks like the gang's back together again."
Morgan snorted in response, her shotgun up and scanning as they moved forward, away from the door. "Didn't think I'd ever see either of you again. What happened?"
"Oh, you know, floating through space for a couple years, alone with my thoughts. It was a good time. I took pictures!"
Morgan's helmet tilted, glancing over at the Chief, who looked back without a word. "Right. Still, it's good to have you both back."
The Chief nodded, and they took a little more distance between each other, Morgan's eyes glancing down to her motion tracker. Silence until Cortana spoke up. "Topographical scans indicate a clearing big enough for a dropship to land, not too far."
"Understood." Morgan's response was immediate, and she thought of something. "Cortana, any idea what we're fighting against?"
"Long story, Commander, but in short, native defense forces. Forerunner in origin and they've caused more than a little trouble for us so far."
"Yeah, you can say that again. Their weapons are capable of bringing down Pelicans, apparently. One of those big bastards dropped us with no problems."
"Not surprising. I have no idea how much we haven't seen yet."
Morgan hummed in response as they pushed through another route, and more distant fire rose up out of the jungle. She was about to speak again when another portal opened up in front of her. With the need to command no longer in play, her shotgun was up and the trigger pulled back before the weapon bucked against her shoulder, roaring at the Forerunner fighter that stepped out at its wielder.
Buckshot blasted out in its pattern, 15 tungsten pellets impacting against the chest of the Promethean Knight and piercing the heavy armor as if it wasn't even there. It went down in slow motion, green eyes tracking it all the way down as practiced hands racked the slide and, in another instant, put a second shell into its chest before her hand dropped from the slide and into her ammunition pouch, expertly reloading the weapon in a flash.
It was over in less than two seconds, and smoke was still wafting from the barrel as she glanced back up at the Chief. He nodded to her, his weapon up and slowly going back to low ready. He approved. Of course he would. She hadn't missed a step in all those years.
They pushed further into the jungle, clearing out Promethean forces in near silence. Their comms went unused, status lights signaling their status after each fight. It was as if they had never been apart, although, things had changed. She didn't have a busted rib anymore, and wasn't running on fumes as her mind tried to rip itself apart from months of nonstop fighting and losing everything that she cared about.
Five years was a long time, and she pushed the thought away as she looked back to the Chief. His large back was to her as he pulled down the trigger on the last enemy in another clearing, his boot stomped down on its arm as it fell limp, his rifle's report echoing through the skies above.
She had long ago come to terms with the idea that he was dead, and with a moment of realization, she remembered what it must have been like for him when she handed him Jorge's tags on the Dawn all those years ago. It made her feel a little uneasy, to finally be conscious of the fact that he had faded from her memory for so long, and she felt bad about it in a way. She had remembered Noble many times over the years, usually fading from her mind, but appearing once again on those dark nights where the nightmares came back and her sister's voice sounded again, far away but still loud.
Swallowing, she pushed it from her mind. This was no time to dwell on it, and she wouldn't allow herself to fall back to old habits. She was relieved that at least they didn't have to speak to each other. She needed time to think, and now wasn't a good time or place.
It never was, if she was honest with herself, but Hocus had spent too much time and work on her for Morgan to just push it all away and let it fester. She would need to find the pilot later and open up a little. A month of little contact with her wife was noticeable, and if nothing else, she was glad that she could at least see her during the days, however little. A full tour without her, however, would have been unbearable, much to the Spartan's chagrin.
She had been fighting on autopilot, her body keeping the tempo up even while her mind inspected other things, and the sound of her comms buzzing in her ear was enough to drag her out of her reverie.
It was the Chief. "Cortana, how much further to the LZ?"
"You do your job and let me do mine, okay!?" Her reply was angry sounding, full of irritation, and Morgan was taken aback at the sound of the AI's heated words.
The Chief pulled Cortana's data chip from a nearby pedestal, where he had slotted her into to open another door that had blocked her path. He glanced back at Morgan as he reslotted it into his helmet, more than aware that her golden visor was watching him, and he could tell the twin green irises inside were doing the same.
Whatever else was said, she didn't hear, and he turned away, moving through the open door. Something was different, off. Cortana had never done an outburst like that before, and she frowned as she followed him inside. She had detected something else in Cortana's voice, a warble, or a shift in her tone, that was definitely not normal. It left a pit in her stomach as she thought back to her earlier mental woes.
Five years. The majority of a smart AI's lifespan. Only two more were left to Cortana, and the amount of data that had been pulled in on the Halo array and the Ark itself, not to mention whatever had come from High Charity, made her stomach tighten up enough to worry her.
Something was wrong.
They moved around a corner, and Morgan's eyes narrowed as she saw a group of Covenant troops and a Knight. She raised her weapon to fire, but realized something else was amiss. The Knight was gesturing to the troopers, as if giving orders, and she cursed. "Knight's directing the Covies. Looks like we're getting deeper in this shit hole."
"I noticed as well. It's astonishing just how much they're working together already…"
"Already? How long have you been dealing with them?"
"Not long, a day or two at this rate, but we came face to face with the Forerunner in charge of the Prometheans. Nasty character, doesn't like Humans much, or well, at all."
"More to brief. We clear this out, you fill me in later."
"Yes, ma'am."
The Chief was the first to fire as Morgan closed range, firing the shotgun and choosing her targets. A beam rifle shot passed over her head, and she grunted as she kept one hand on the slide for the shotgun and her other dropped from the trigger to her magnum, ripping it off and aiming at the sniper before firing and painting the wall behind it with bits of skull and brain. She whipped around, bringing the pistol down to her hip before putting a pair of shots into a Grunt and sending it to the ground, the magnum returning to her hip as she brought the shotgun back into play.
The LZ was cleared quickly, and she made sure of it. Opening a comm channel to Crown, she ordered them to regroup. "Landing zone secured, move up."
Lasky responded, sounding relieved. "Good work, Commander. I'll get the coordinates for-"
His voice was cut off as a new player entered the channel, priority comms from Infinity. "Mayday, mayday, mayday! Code red! Hostile elements are attempting to gain access to the bridge! All ground elements are to return to the ship immediately and repel boarders!"
She grimaced, even as a Pelican's downwash started to buffet them, the bird lowering to the ground quickly. In her comm, she heard other voices enter as Del Rio continued to give his orders. An explosion, then gunfire filled the channel, and cut out.
Lasky was quick to pick up again, giving his orders as if he had a plan. "We'll make our way there and get another bird, until then, you have tactical command of the forward assault force. Sending nav coordinates to you now."
"We'll get it done, sir."
"I know you will. Lasky out."
The Pelican set down, its landing gear shifting as she stepped aboard and moved to the cockpit. In the front seat, a familiar face looked back at her, but her normal smile was cut off, replaced by a grimace. Hocus was in charge of this bird. "Ma'am. Coordinates?"
"Already sent, Hocus. Get us airborne, keep us low. Fast as we can go."
"Aye, ma'am."
Without another look, Morgan moved back into the blood tray. The back ramp stayed open, and the bay machine gun was held in two massive armored hands as the Chief took up position. He was as ready to fight as she was. Then again, when were they not ready?
Standing ready at the bay door herself, she listened to general comms traffic as they closed on Infinity. The Pelican remained in motion, rolling and jinking subtly as it cut through the air rather than a fast, straight flight path. Hocus had been the subject of too much ground fire to count, and she knew the ropes when it came to getting in and out of the hottest zones.
Their flight was quick, seeming to pass by in a flash as the Pelican dropped into a clearing and went into a canyon filled with debris and shadow. Touching down, the two Spartans were on the ground and maneuvering, weapons up. Hocus vacated the area quickly, returning for the rest that had been left behind by the sudden emergency.
A squad of other IVs were fighting in the area, stationed there at an entrance into the ship to prevent any contacts from entering if they could. Morgan joined the overall battle net again, hearing one of the Spartans speaking.
"-Ground teams, be advised. Commander Bailey and the Master Chief are on the field. Advancing."
IFF tags identified the team as a group of dark green colored Spartans, Fireteam Shamrock. The Master Chief had left her side, already heading for the Scorpion. He was quick to take the big toys for himself, it seemed.
"Shamrock, embedding with you. Get me into the ship."
Shamrock's leader, Spartan Darnell Morris, immediately responded in the affirmative, his deep voice ordering his Spartans to take point and keep enemy infantry forces away from the tank to let its cannon work without worrying about boarders.
A couple of Warthogs, one of them a gauss, were waiting as well, and the Spartans hopped aboard with Morgan taking the gauss for herself. They would ride as the Scorpion's escort, deal with what they could. Until then, they were still a few hundred meters from Infinity's hangars, and would need to be fast.
In her ear, the main comms net for the ship was still going, with Monsoon giving out orders and status updates as needed. She had likely split herself into dozens of fragments, allowing her to keep eyes and ears on all Spartan fireteams, leading them directly and ensuring they were put to work in the best way. Morgan was more than happy to let her keep doing it while she was on the field.
Chaingun fire, the crack of a guass cannon, and the roar of the Scorpion's smoothbore cannon were constant sounds alongside Shamrock's battlefield comms, and they closed on the ship without any major problems while Morgan leapt from the back and ran towards the controls to a cargo elevator, reaching the controls just as the Scorpion rolled onboard, treads creaking in protest with every movement they made.
Slapping at the controls, she tried to force it to go up, find an override, something. Cursing, she called for Monsoon. "Monsoon, we're at an elevator, hangar two dash one niner. Requesting assist."
"Yes, ma'am. Please keep the area clear of hostiles while the elevator ascends."
The elevator jolted and her knees flexed as it went up, the tank rumbling quietly and the turret swiveling in increments, always looking for another enemy to paste. Entering the ship, the use of the main gun would be restricted, but the coaxial MG would be free fire on anything that wasn't a Human.
When they came to the top of the elevator shaft, the Scorpion was quick to open up, and Morgan saw only a moment later that UNSC forces were being engaged not only by the Covenant and new Promethean forces, but a Hunter pair was active and firing their fuel rod guns with impunity, rounds pinging off of their heavy armor until the Scorpion came into play.
Immediately, Morgan was in motion. "Get off the elevator! The tank's a target!" She moved off of the elevator, taking cover and watching as the Hunters engaged the Scorpion, the coaxial MG opening up and putting down a withering barrage of fire on the troops that were more vulnerable. The Chief would clear the way to the Hunters, and Morgan started to broadcast on her helmet's speakers. "Focus down the small troops, close with the Hunters, take them down before they rip the tank apart!"
Marines and Spartans alike responded with a fusillade that put bullets into things both organic and otherwise. Grunts and Jackals fell, ripped apart by jacketed rounds. Elites took fire to their shields and dove for cover, some not making it before their shields popped and their bodies followed behind. Promethean forces weathered the storm better, heavy armor managing to tank some of the shots that came in on them and returning fire without seeming to worry about cover.
But none of them were able to spare much fire on Morgan while the blue armored Spartan ripped a grenade from her belt and sidearmed it at the Hunters. One saw it coming and raised its shield, the grenade bouncing off and exploding harmlessly in the air, shrapnel from the detonation pinging off of the floor and nearest wall of the hangar. It didn't matter. She hurled another one, never slowing or stopping in her advance as another pair of Spartans from Shamrock realized what she was doing.
They were quick to mimic her tactics, the second Hunter trying to cover behind its shield as well, but they were both exposed either to one of the advance forces, the Marines still engaging other forces, or the Scorpion in the back flinging lead like it was going out of style.
One of the Hunters finally took some hits to its unprotected sections, roaring in pain as orange gore fell to the floor in a nasty splatter. It repositioned, backing away with its bond brother.
Morgan wouldn't let them get far, and rather than skirt the side of the battlefield, she pushed off hard, and sprinted down the center, her shotgun held in shifting arms as she closed the distance faster than the Hunters had expected.
One raised its shield up and readied itself to bring it down, but a heavy barrage of fire from the Scorpion was already on target, the tracers giving plenty of evidence as to why the Hunter was being torn apart in front of her, until it had been hit enough that it simply sloughed apart, the upper half falling to the floor. She pushed past it, her shotgun coming up as she saw the other Hunter turn in slow motion, its shield starting to swing towards her rather than arcing from the top or bottom.
She dropped to the ground, her armor giving off sparks as she slid across the steel decking, lowering herself even further as she did. The shotgun pointed up at an angle, and she felt like she locked eyes with the Hunter that watched as it struggled to bring the shield back around, and pulled the trigger.
The cone of pellets was more than enough to blow out a massive amount of the orange eels that made up the big Covenant species, and it rained back down on her as she slid between heavily armored legs and out the other side. It, too, fell like its brother had, and she was on the offensive again, attacking what remained from behind, before the hangar fell silent from all but the sound of spent shell casings being kicked around, status callouts, and a warbling alarm.
There was no time to stop and breathe, to let things settle in. Spartans were always moving forward, leading the way, breaking through until either the enemy had stopped breathing, or the Spartans, and too many times had the latter happened.
Shamrock was quick to follow as Morgan ordered them together, and the Master Chief abandoned the Scorpion, closing the gap and rejoining her as they moved out of the hangar, further towards the bow. Morgan's comms opened up again, Del Rio's voice filtering through.
"Commander, I'm told that a legend has come back to join us. We'll need his skills to break this assault."
She didn't slow her stride, weapon up, passing through split doors as the ship swallowed her whole once again. "Status?"
"The satellite outside is attempting to access the ship's mainframe. It's already got a connection, along the port side, not far from your entry point. Quickest way there will be through the maintenance causeways. Mantis support has been authorized in mech bay six. Send the Master Chief there. Your job is to break the siege on the bridge section. We're holding them off, but barely, and we've had multiple Spartan casualties."
She cursed, frowning as she carried on. "Understood. I'm on my way."
"Make it quick. We've retreated to another section, but they're attempting to break through now. Monsoon estimates five minutes, maybe, before they make it through the doors."
She cut the channel. There was no need for further information. The survivors from Shamrock were with her, and she had to lead them to the bridge. They weren't too far now. Turning back to the Chief, she cut his orders for him. "We're splitting up, you're going external in a Mantis, manual reboot of the defensive batteries to drive whatever it is off. We'll cover the bridge. I can take Cortana and get her into the system, try and flush out whatever is inside from the breach point."
The Master Chief seemed to almost hesitate, something she'd rarely ever seen from the big Spartan, and her frown deepened.
"Chief?" She didn't have much time. Holding her hand out, she waited for the chip, but every second was precious now. He shook his head and turned away.
"Negative. I'll insert her into the system closer to the contact location where it's scanning." His response was quick, and he turned his back to her, setting off into the maintenance corridor that would lead to the Mantis bay, and she grimaced, knowing there was no use in pursuing.
"Alright, Shamrock, we need to move fast, or the bridge crew is toast."
"Yes ma'am," Morris answered.
The walls of the Infinity passed by in a blur, the group of Spartans passing by multiple conflicts that had Marines and other Spartan forces battling scattered Prometheans and Covenant forces, slowly but surely pushing them back according to an overlay of the ship that showed thinning conflict zones as the ship's contingent pushed the invaders out, either through a forced retreat or ensuring they were all dead. More and more lights winked off as friendly forces managed to break out and support other zones, the enemy casualties skyrocketing as the ship was cleared.
But there was a heavy enemy presence at the front of the ship, and friendly forces had been unable to properly break through, despite their best efforts, and several Spartans had been wounded a the least enough to take them out of action. She had no idea how many had been killed so far, and she didn't want to until all the dust had settled. Every Spartan, and every Marine that was lost to combat on this world was another hole in their defensive strength. Until they could get out of here, they were limited to whatever was on hand, and after enough punishment, even a ship as large as the Infinity would start to feel the strain.
Corridors and decks across the ship were at a standstill leading to the bridge, and Morgan closed on a line that was loaded with Marines exchanging fire with Covenant forces at the end of the hall, likely a rearguard for heavy Promethean vanguards. Morgan's shotgun was up as she charged into a crossfire, her first round blasting a Grunt off of its feet and sent it slamming into the deck. An Elite, stripped of the heavy armor that the Covenant had worn during the war, was quick to close the gap, and she whipped around to face it before several rounds came in from one of Shamrock's gunners, piercing the shields and painting the walls with whatever the Elite had in its skull.
The Marines moved along in the trail of devastation led by Shamrock and Morgan, keeping their rear covered to allow the Spartans to go wild on anything to the front. Morgan was their point man, something she hadn't been since Reach. She had always worked alone before Noble, and then was more or less alone again during the final months of the war until the Chief had come back onto the field.
Working with a team again, it was nice, in a way. She could rely on others, not having to constantly keep one eye on her sights and one on her motion tracker. Focusing purely on the fight at hand led to devastating results with a veteran Spartan able to run free on targets. The Marines were bearing witness to it now, unable to stop and shoot with the frenetic pace that the Spartans kept up, firing on the move and defining maneuver warfare in the modern age.
A spearhead of green and a tip of blue led the group to the bridge, Covenant forces fading more and more until only Prometheans stood guard over the way to the bridge and its occupants. They all fell to the roar of Morgan's shotgun, the crack of Shamrock's rifles and machine guns, and the heavy boots that carried them through. Marine corpses were on either side of the decks, run through and cut to pieces by swords, blown to bits by the heavy rifles, sometimes even just crumpled from a bludgeoning hit. Plasma damage, bullet impact holes, whatever the Promethean weapons did, all increased as they pushed forward.
It had been a hard fight, but the Marines had held as long as they could. She counted three Spartans left in the halls, their armor damaged and their bodies limp from the fight that had brought them down. Neither Shamrock nor Morgan kept count. Only one set of numbers mattered right now, and it was the remaining ammunition they had packed onto them.
The bridge doors came into sight, and Morgan watched as a Promethean far larger than the others of its kind turned to look at her, twin rifles in each hand, with an additional pair of large cannons poking from sections of its back. It looked less like the Prometheans they had seen, and more like a crab shell with two legs beneath it. Armor split open in the dead center of its chest where the glowing eyes stared holes in the Spartans, and a trio of bright orange Human shaped skulls screeched at her before the armor closed back around them.
One of the cannons on its shoulder roared loudly, a massive red ball of energy pushing out of the barrel and moving towards them. It was slow, slower than any bullet, or even plasma fire, but when it impacted, it was devastating. One of the rounds hit a downed Spartan, one of the dead guards, as Shamrock tried to get away. The body, armor and all, disappeared in a bright red flash, and Morgan felt her stomach tighten.
Another shot like that would be able to kill any one of them. Trying to push forward and dodge around the shots only meant that they would be open to the rifles. Trying to sit here and wither it down would expose them to more of the heavy cannon fire.
To her right, a cylinder spun through the air, moving at a higher speed than she had expected. They didn't have rockets or heavy AT, but they did have grenades, and one of them spun through the air until it bounced off of the Promethean Crab's armor, detonating and sending shrapnel pinging off of the walls.
The massive enemy combatant wasn't damaged, the explosion having left scorch marks on the armor, but there were no pocks or holes, but Morgan had noticed it stumble back on the twin legs. They were large, more than capable of carrying the Promethean, but possibly unstable.
She had an idea. "More! Hit the bastard again, everything you've got!"
More grenades came flying in at her command, all having the same effect. There were no damaging hits, but the thing was kept off balance, struggling to keep its large bulk on target, and Morgan saw her opening.
Pushing out of her cover, she sprinted forward, and heard the clamor of boots behind her. Shamrock was led by someone that had the same keen eyes as the Commander, and had come to the same conclusion. They would get in close while it was off balance and deal with it like barbarians. After all, a Spartan was just a barbarian with an advanced cudgel and tougher skin.
The cannons started to line back up a shot as rifle fire came in from the crab, inaccurate and rapid. Morgan was able to dodge most of it without losing speed, but the rest of Shamrock would have trouble. There was only so much room to dodge and move without tripping each other or taking a hit.
Her shields dropped with each near miss, until she heard the warbling in her ears as the shields went to critical levels, heat passing through her armor to the skin beneath. She was too close to stop now, and there was no cover anyway. Green eyes tracked the direction all four barrels were pointing, and she put on a burst of speed. The remaining ten meters were gone in a flash, and she threw the shotgun in her hands to the side, dropping her heavily armored shoulder and tucking her head in as one of the shoulder cannons went off again.
Her shoulder impacted just as she heard armor crunching against armor, the loud click followed by a dull thump as the weapon fired, and her world spun. The crab had been knocked down onto its back, and Shamrock had dog piled it almost as soon as they had gotten in range. The shot that had been taken as the crab fell had impacted against the ceiling, dropping already damaged shields. Electricity arced over all of the Spartans, none of them shielded anymore as they fought the crab with fists and boots.
Heavy armor could protect against distant rifle fire and explosions just fine, but when an adrenaline filled squad of Spartans hit the crab like a freight train, they had set to work on tearing it apart piece by piece.
Literally.
Shamrock had ripped off both arms, straining against the metal that made the creature up, and the twin cannons on its shoulders were moving on gimbals, trying desperately to get a target, but it was unable. A synthetic screech went up, and Morgan felt herself going weightless.
"Get off! Get the hell off!" Her orders went up just in time, and she felt the crab starting to leave the area through its odd teleportation system. Shamrock bailed off of it like they had finally captured a rampaging bull. Morgan was last, and she nearly didn't make it, falling to the ground hard after trying to push off. Her boots left the downed crab, but with it disappearing under her a half an instant later, she barely moved, and it disappeared as she fell to the ground, grunting.
Shamrock fanned out, the squad leader moving for the bridge door that had been almost white hot. Several spots had been hit by rifle fire, and the cannons on that things shoulders had been doing a number on the reinforced doors that covered the bridge. Slapping the communications panel next to the door, Morris called out.
"Friendlies! Bridge secured!"
The door split open, struggling to fit inside of its slot after having been pelted with fire and deformed by heat. Another minute, or even less, and the crab would have annihilated the bridge.
Morgan rose to her feet, feeling the weight of the battle and its actions coming down on her shoulders. She was next in, and Shamrock's remaining Spartans peeled back into the bridge room, shutting the door and staying on it, just in case anything else came.
Del Rio's eyes met hers through her visor as he came up from behind the holo table, a magnum clutched tightly in his hands. It was a textbook stance, one learned from time on a range, rather than time in a trench. It lowered. "Commander, nice of you to finally join us."
She nodded. "Sir. We've managed to clear plenty of hostiles from the area. Hopefully it takes the pressure off the rest of the ship."
Del Rio was about to respond when Monsoon appeared on the holotable. "Sir, my sensors indicate the unknown alien forces are leaving the ship. Covenant forces are attempting to disengage as well, but lack the teleporting capabilities of the others. Enemy air forces are being destroyed as we speak by ship defenses."
"And the satellite?" He asked, glaring down at her with that scowl of his.
"It has been forced away as well by the combined efforts of the Master Chief and other Mantis personnel. I estimate we have half an hour before the ship is cleared, but as of right now, the danger has largely passed, sir."
The older officer nodded slowly, finally holstering his weapon. "Good." Turning back to Morgan, he pointed to her. "Commander, remain here. Spartans, the rest of you return to clearing the ship."
Shamrock was quick to leave, none of them wanting to remain under Del Rio's gaze any longer than they had to. Morgan turned to watch them leave, one of them returning after a moment and tossing her the discarded shotgun with a sketched salute.
A hint of a smile as she racked the slide and reloaded it, before clipping it to her armor's back plate. Looking back to Del Rio, she waited for his orders.
He was slow to give them, staring at the holotable and the overlay of the ship, slowly returning to a full blue shape. Several minutes passed before he spoke again. "Commander, do you have the data on the gravity well location?"
She nodded, pulling the data chip from her helmet that Wright had given her. Doubling as both an AI storage chip and one that could pull data from consoles both Covenant and Human, and apparently Forerunner, hackers and cyberwarfare experts could fill it with targeted data rather than large dumps. She had lucked out with Wright's expertise. "Yes, sir."
He took it and slotted it into the holotable, Monsoon immediately latching onto it and setting it up to show what the area looked like, structures, and more. Del Rio was formulating a plan, one that would be their next course of action.
Finally, he nodded again, satisfied. "Monsoon, how long until we can regain full power and get back into the air?"
"Estimating… Thirty Two hours, Captain."
Del Rio cursed, his hands tightening into fists. "The longer we're here, the more likely we get attacked again. Bring all weapons online first, then shields. Have all combat forces come to REDCON 1, roving patrols constantly. Place heavy weapons throughout the ship, and entrench in chokepoints with emplaced weapons teams, load armor piercing ammunition to deal with the big armored enemy types. Engineers and mechanics stick with a squad or two of Marines on guard, and keep a CAP flight up just in case more air forces try to obtain a beachhead. Seal all hangars and elevators other wise. We're gonna be here for too long, and I don't want a repeat of what just happened."
Turning back to Morgan, he made her the subject of his scowl. "Commander, gather your Spartans, re-arm, and stay appraised. Once your team has returned, keep them close. You'll be leading the charge on the gravity well generator when it comes time to happen. More details to follow. Until then, do what you need to to be ready. You're dismissed."
She nodded, taking her orders. "Yes sir." Anything to be out from under that look. She left the bridge shortly after, returning to S Deck and finding that several Spartans were being treated for injuries by medics. Sarah Palmer was near the large overhanging observation platform, her helmet off as one of her team members treated a savage wound that led from her temple nearly to her jaw. Blood was pooled in a puddle on the deck, but it had stopped gushing with the application of biofoam and a bandage.
Palmer looked up at Morgan. "Ma'am. What are your orders?"
Morgan pulled her helmet off, feeling the recycled air of the armor giving way to the ship's recycled air, only marginally better in her opinion. "Rearm, repair, lick your wounds. We got slapped, and not with an open palm. We caught the back of whatever hand came at us. I've directly encountered multiple Spartans KIA. Have commanders update their rosters and recover their bodies when able." She saw Palmer grimace, not at the pain in the wound, but at the loss of Spartans. It was never good to lose a comrade, but the fact that Spartans had been cut down, it didn't bode well for an extended campaign if it came down to it.
A nod as Palmer listened, and Morgan went on. "Gravity well generator keeping us in this place has been spotted, we're planning to take it out. Crown will be moving with whatever else Del Rio decides to give us, and we'll drop it and then get the hell out of here. Still plenty we don't know here, so you and the others will be getting your information on the fly. So, at this point, plan for anything and everything. Stay flexible. Otherwise…" Morgan shrugged, and Palmer watched her. "Just stay ready to move at a moment's notice. Weapons and armor on at all times."
Palmer licked her lips, and nodded again. "Yes, ma'am. I'll pass the information on. We'll be ready when you need us."
Morgan gave a nod, but internally sighed with relief. Wherever things took them now, she had no idea, but she didn't like it, and her mind once again wandered back to the Chief and Cortana as she left S Deck, moving to the Spartan bridge to stay close to the bridge and ready for anything.
Something about them had changed since she'd last seen them, and it wasn't for the better.
