Text = onomatopoeia
'Text' = Thought
"Text" = Nonverbal communication
Chapter 15: Bright Lights, Silent Night
January 2nd, 2569
12:30 Local Time
Fort Keyes, Minerva, Lambda Rho System
"Andrew, I only ask to make sure you're stable enough to take this mission."
"Doc, I'm fine, really. I've been transparent with you since I got back from the desert. I understand why I reacted the way I did that night. I understand how my team feels about that. It isn't happening again."
"If that's the case tell me how you rationalize your reaction."
"I was under stress from being in a direct command position. Things were suspicious from the get go. I learned that we had been sold out and that my network was in the line of fire. When we took our chance to complete the objective, I learned that most of them had been killed, despite my promise of safety. I felt angry and guilty. Instead of letting those emotions trigger a response from my augmentations I shut them out. I felt that was the more productive option and despite what I believed, I still put my team at risk. Next time I need to communicate with them more efficiently to avoid shutting down like that again."
"Well, I didn't expect you to take that as seriously as you did. Alright, I'll clear you for your mission. Now, how was your Christmas? I heard that you opened your presents and are expected to participate next year." Arinn was awfully chipper about the one thing she forced him to do.
"It was actually kind of nice. The gifts were a little morbid, but I get the sentiment. I'm not gonna be around forever, as such I should start looking for the upside."
"What did they get you?"
"Well, King somehow managed to get my old GUNGNIR helmet from O.N.I. The thing is absolutely thrashed. Still has blood stains and busted components in it. It's kinda crazy to think I made it out of that one. It's a reminder of the past, and a reason to keep going. If I can make it out of that, I get through anything."
"What about Sam?"
"Back before we bugged out of New Sydney Sam may or may not have broken some rules. We're not supposed to take souvenirs from the field. Well, Sam checked the grenade launcher that Sangheili was using. Turns out he had a chance to kill me. There was a forty-millimeter grenade loaded, but he chose to face me head on. He showed me respect, despite our differences. Sam took the grenade and turned it into a charm for my armor, sort of like a sniper's HOG tooth."
"Hog tooth?"
"Hunter of gunmen. A sniper starts as a professionally instructed gunman, or PIG. They become a HOG, when they kill an enemy sniper that was gunning for them and take the round from the chamber of the enemy's rifle. I know, it's kinda strange and ritualistic, but it's their tradition. Sam gave me it as his way of making me a HOG."
"The more I learn about you Spartans, the less I actually understand. I'm glad you enjoyed yourself though. Your team is a family, your family. You're lucky you found them, don't let them go."
January 3rd, 2569
08:30 Local Time
"At ease Spartans. Welcome to Operation Street Sweeper. Your briefing packet has been uploaded to your data pad. Open to page one and familiarize yourself with your team's role. You may notice that we will be operating within New Sydney. You are to keep collateral to the barest of minimums. Your primary objective is to eliminate any and all Red Hand forces you can. Some of you will have secondary objectives to extract friendly assets, code phrases have been provided. Does anyone have a question?" Commander McKnight had complete control over the briefing room, the same auditorium Phoenix met Sylas. She watched as the members of her Spartan company went over their reading material, all but Fireteam Phoenix. The room filled with the low murmurs of Spartans. The chatter slowly died down and one of the Spartan's of Fireteam Aquila stood.
"Ma'am, may I inquire as to where this intel came from? I don't see any mention of an intelligence operative."
"Spartan G199, would you care to share?"
Andrew stood up and cleared his throat, drawing the attention of the room. "Over the course of the last four months myself and Fireteam Phoenix have investigated insurrection activity here on Minerva. We caught a lucky break at the end of September. O.N.I Intelligence Analyst and Mission Coordinator Clayton Henshaw was found to be supplying the Red Hand with weapons and helping them move them through the system under the guise of a special operation. After Henshaw was removed from the equation, I was given authorization to use my skills to secure a network of data dealers. These underground contacts provided us with the location of a weapons cache held in an abandoned mining town. We can speak to the validity of the intelligence provided."
"So, you expect us to do this based on intel you bought from people sifting the slush. Pardon me for not feeling comfortable with this, Commander."
"Yes, I do. The network Spartan G199 assembled wouldn't have been killed if they didn't know something about the Red Hand. I expect all of you to do your job and clean house. This is our planet and I'll be damned if we let them get comfortable here. These rebels killed over one hundred civilians, over fifty police and injured countless more during the September attack. This isn't just a standard sweep and clear. We are going to push these bastards back into whatever hole they came from. If that is all, head to armor bay and get ready, you deploy at ten hundred hours." McKnight watched as her Spartans began to leave the auditorium. Each team moved together with a sense of purpose. Something caught her eye though. An interaction between the members of Phoenix and Aquila. As the Commander approached the two teams, she made several observations. Despite Andrew's relaxed body language his face was a clear expression of anger. Aquila's leader was much more animated in his body language. He was obviously agitated, meanwhile the rest of his team were more than exasperated with him.
"I don't care if you don't like where the intel came from. You wanna push the insurrection off world or do you want a repeat of the September attacks?" Andrew's tone of voice carried a great deal of venom. Enough to get the man to shut up.
"Let's go Walsh! Just leave him be!"
"Just do your job, Aquila One. 'Verse knows I've been doing mine." Andrew turned away, checking something on his wrist as he went. McKnight closed the distance between herself and Spartan Walsh Kasbin before the young leader could catch on. Her hand grabbed a hold of his upper arm just before he could storm after the Spartan Three.
"Don't even think about it, Aquila One. O.N.I has always obtained intelligence from local sources. He did his job, now report to armor bay and do yours. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal, ma'am."
10:45
New Sydney
The transport rolled to a stop in the small lot behind Club небеса. Sam and King hopped out of the back first. Andrew stood up, but was stopped by Thermer. Jesse motioned for the two to sweep the lot and receiving dock. He grabbed Andrew by the back of the head and pressed their helmets together. Depolarizing his visor, the leader spoke in a stern yet concerned voice. "Don't let that Aquila fuckhead get to you. Stay grounded in here, aight."
Andrew depolarized his own visor, grabbed Thermer in a similar manner, locked eyes and smiled. "You think I'mma let that shit bird get to me? C'mon boss, I've got anger issues, but that guy's below us. Let's go. I got a business associate to kill."
The two exited the vehicle and quickly linked up with Sam and King. Andrew examined the panel next to the door. Ripping the panel from the wall and linking his Tac-Pad to the maintenance port, the Spartan uploaded one of his oldest intrusion programs. "Looks like someone cheaped out on home security. This is easier than I thought."
With a tap, Andrew had the door unlocked for his team. King extended his shield and entered first. The back-of-house was surprisingly quiet. Andrew had expected the kitchen staff to be prepping the snacks the club usually sold throughout the night. Coming into the kitchen they found no one. Less potential for collateral damage. Andrew signed for them to stop. Sam gave him a questioning glance. Andrew's voice came over TeamCOMM. "There's some sort of broadcast in there. Looks like a conference call. I'm gonna try to lock them in. If she's talking to other bosses, I want them to see this. Give me a sec."
The Spartan rapidly tapped away at his Tac-Pad, sifting through his intrusive programs looking for the right one. With the building under his control, it took little effort to upload the virus. Andrew counted down on his fingers as it locked its targets' controls. Sam signed at him. "I forget you do that. Scary shit."
"Get ready. Lights out in three." Andrew responded.
"King, door. Now." Thermer signed. The four Spartans stacked up to the door. Thermer nodded to Andrew and the lights were killed. Bursting through the kitchen door, King cracked the closest guard in the leg with his stun baton. The crunch of the man's leg and crackle of electricity brought the attention of everyone in the room, not that it helped them. Several more guards dropped as Sam, Thermer and Andrew opened fire. With enough of the syndicate lackies dead Andrew made his way to their boss's lounge. The Spartan's armor lit up with an ethereal glow as he passed the holograms of his target's associates. Suddenly the lights came on.
"You have no clue how much you pissed me off."
"What is the meaning of this? I have a deal with you people!"
"We had a deal. Actually, I think your associates here should know about that. I'm sure they're very concerned as to why you'd make deals with the military." Andrew turned around and looked at his audience. "Ladies and gentlemen, it's nice to make your acquaintance. Your friend and I made a deal at the end of October. You see, in September a terrorist attack forced the UNSC to up our security in New Sydney. Her profits dropped because we started to make it harder for her to move whatever illegal products you people push. At the end of October I offered to get the UNSC off her back in exchange for access to her network of info brokers."
"She took the deal. I began to work with the brokers she provided in order to hunt down the Red Hand forces that have made their presence violently known. So imagine my surprise when last month, in the middle of an operation, I get a call from one of the brokers saying your associate here sold us out. That she squealed when the Red Hand came in here and that most of the network had been fucking murdered. That leaves me with a question, is that how your organization normally operates? You just fuck over your associates when someone waves a gun at you?"
"Daryna is this true?" An elderly man asked.
"Yes." The woman was far more reserved than normal. She'd been caught. She was sure none of them would've survived.
"You threw away everything I taught you. For what?"
"I was sure they-" Daryna had stood up only to receive the barrel of a handgun in her mouth. She could taste the burnt gunpowder around the muzzle of the weapon. The Spartan's speed and lack of hesitance only made the gravity of her situation sink in even faster.
"She was certain we wouldn't have survived. What she failed to remember was that she made a deal with Spartans. As the old phrase goes, 'Spartans never die.'"
"I'm sure we can work something out. Please remove your gun from my goddaughter's mouth." Andrew pulled the weapon from her mouth and motioned for her to sit.
"You folk and I can work something out, but she's already signed her death warrant by tossing in with the Red Hand. Daryna, is it? Give me that Chatter they gave you." The terrified woman removed the comm device from her wrist and handed it over. Andrew looked around to see the remaining guards held captive by his team.
"What is it you want?"
"You pull your remaining people from my planet and you don't come back."
"What do we get in return."
"You don't get labeled as an accessory organization run by the Red Hand."
"I don't see much benefit for us."
"You don't have a choice. Either you leave this planet or your organization comes crumbling down. O.N.I wouldn't even question my report."
"Fine. Now release her."
Andrew cocked his helmeted head to the side. He spun around unbelievably fast and opened fire. Five shots rang out in the otherwise silent club. Daryna's body slumped in her chair. Andrew looked back over his shoulder before speaking. "I told you. She signed her death warrant. Now get your people off my planet."
The syndicate leaders watched in silent shock as Andrew walked away. Another burst of gunfire signaled the end of the last guards in the building. As the four Spartans left the building Andrew shut the power down. O.N.I would come around soon enough to clean up the mess.
February 7th, 2569
11:43 Local Time
Fireteam Phoenix Barracks
"You did what to my rifle? I was gone for two months!" Jaq threw a pair of wire cutters at Andrew's head. He dodged them easily.
"Will you let me finish my damned sentence? Fuckin' Christ!" Andrew shouted back at their new teammate. She had only been in the barracks for three minutes and they were already having issues. She crossed her arms and waited. "Thank you. I was saying, I took your rifle to the armory and ran it through a few checks. Turns out your receiver was about to fail. Another three or four rounds would've put your bolt in your damned head. I did you a solid and redesigned the receiver. Aesthetically it's the same, just has better construction to reinforce the weak points I found."
"Oh. Can I ask why?" Her body slackened a bit.
"I was bored after Operation Street Sweeper and I wanted to make sure your gear was up to snuff. I'm gonna guess you printed the old parts yourself?" The others were taken aback by Jaq's initial volatility. Andrew tossed what he and King had begun to call the Garbage Cannon back to her. She caught it and noticed that it seemed lighter than it should. "You're a Spartan now, it's gonna feel lighter. May want to get some lifting in to help learn your limits."
Jaq snapped out of her thoughts. "Oh, right. Yeah, I've had to rebuild the rifle a few times. I've always just printed my parts."
"Alright, well if you two are done trying to antagonize each other, we have some combat drills." Thermer stated authoritatively.
"Don't I get time to settle in?"
"Nope. Get changed into your techsuit and grab any gear you need for medium to close range. Andrew, get Sylas geared up. King, I want you to grab your wall. Sam, you bring your DMR. Get a move on people."
"Did you say close range? I can't fight at close range." Jaq said worriedly.
"You're about to learn real fast. Andrew doesn't hold back in these drills. It's only gotten worse since they gave us Sylas." Sam said flatly. What he said was true though. Before Sylas came around Andrew was aggressive in close quarters, but his partnership with the Hellhound had fostered a new love for his preferred range.
"You're kidding, right? Is this a common drill?"
"Yeah, we gotta make sure you snipers can hold your own if we're separated in combat. Andrew's close combat rankings have only increased since he was partnered with Sylas. Alone he'll keep me at a stalemate all day. With Sylas, he'll take us all down in half an hour." King replied. Jaq looked over at the man in question, fitting Sylas's harness in place. "You'll be fine. We'll be all armored up. Worse comes to worse, you get thrown on your ass a lot."
From where Jaq was sitting, this whole drill seemed rigged. Her, Sam and Thermer had to disable Andrew, King and Sylas and vice versa. Sam had been right about Andrew, once he was close enough the man was ruthless. His use of the dog to disarm the enemy followed by a finishing blow was something to be feared. The BR55HB she'd been given barked, but it was far too late. The rifle was ripped from her arms by Sylas. Her legs were swept out from under and the familiar sound of Andrew's SOCOM sounded off as she fell. Her armor had already locked by the time she hit the ground. "Damnit! Is this for the wire cutters or something?!"
"No, this is just what I do. If you'd like I can train you in hand to hand, that is with the Boss's permission of course." Andrew reached down and helped her up. She had been the last to go down, true to her insurrection roots she'd been good at evading her opponents and brilliant in her use of grenades to gain distance. She wouldn't need SERE training, that much he could tell. She had everything other than close quarters combat in the bag.
"Not to come off as dismissive, but all you've done is sweep my legs. I'm not really sure that's going to help me."
"That's because it's the fastest way to take you down. I'm ruthless and efficient. King and I can go at this for over fifteen hours if someone lets us. Our movements are deliberate, our strikes calculated. I don't waste energy. The offer still stands." Drills had been going on for two hours and Jaq was still making the same mistake as when they started. Back when the team had first formed it only took Sam and Thermer twenty minutes not to let him get too close.
"Andrew, I want you to train Jaq in hand to hand. She clearly needs it. Jaq, no room for arguing here. Sam and I will work with King." Thermer said as he went to grab a water bottle.
"That settles that. Go grab a drink, I'll be waiting."
"Great, I can't wait to get beaten by the dog some more." Jaq muttered under her breath.
Andrew lowered himself into a kneeling position, sitting back on his calves. Sylas trotted over to his primary handler, licking his chops free of lingering water. Jaq eyed the two as she took a sip of water. Thermer stood next to her and let out a wry chuckle. "If you're wondering why they're bonded so well, it's because they both almost died the same night."
Jaq shot him a confused look; her eyebrow arched high. "You make it sound like he's used to almost dying."
"He is used to it. We were taking an insurrection airport. Got to the warehouse to find a massive weapon cache. We engage the enemy and start to clear the building. Halfway through a flashbang blinds those two and a Sangheili puts two shells of eight gauge in Andrew's gut. Split chin made the mistake of saying something about killing Sylas. Big guy gets up, disarms the elite and rips his arm off. Tried beating him to death with it before settling on smashing his skull in with the shotgun. Sylas trusts Andrew more than anyone else now." Thermer sipped from his bottle, letting Jaq wrap her head around what he said.
"So, he's this aggressive in order to protect us snipers?"
"No, he's aggressive because he was made to be so. He channels that to protect everyone. He's going to train you. In doing so he'll kick your ass until he needs to find a new way to do so. He'll exploit your weaknesses and openings until you stop giving them to him. Tell me, when Sylas is about to disarm you, does time seem to slow?"
"Yeah?"
"Good, when he's coming in for an attack, watch how he moves. Use those microseconds to watch what he's aiming for. You may learn what you're leaving open before he gets bored and tells you. Now go. Sylas, auf King." Jaq walked back to Andrew, slipping her Recon helmet back on. Sylas passed by her on his way to King. Thermer's words hung in her mind. It wasn't too long ago that she watched Spartan's from behind the scope of her rifle, learning their movements before she pulled the trigger. This shouldn't be too hard.
"Try to knock me down." Jaq stood in front of the kneeling Spartan. All she had to do was kick him and he'd topple. Her leg swung out at him lightning quick. Time slowed as his arm came up to block. As soon as their limbs connected, he wrapped his arm around her leg and pulled. His right hand lashed out and pushed her hip. She toppled to the ground. Andrew gave her time to stand up. This time she observed how he sat. His ankles were crossed, meaning pushing him backwards would be impossible. If she went from the side, she'd end up like she just did. It had to be from the back. She launched a kick aimed straight at his back. Again, her sense of time slowed. Her target leaned forward and a foot kicked back, knocking Jaq's from under her. Momentum took hold and she fell forwards. Andrew was in a runner's four-point start, albeit greatly exaggerated. He stood up and offered her a hand. "What did you learn."
"You're aware of every angle of attack. I can't take you when you're seated like that."
"Close. Height has advantages and disadvantages. It's hard to beat an opponent that can fit inside your guard. I'm almost thirty centimeters taller than you when we're in armor and almost twenty without. I have more reach, but I have to aim down. You're shorter than any Spartan I've ever met. Use that when fighting, slip in and out of my guard. Fight on your terms, not the enemy's. We'll work on that more later. For now, we work on your guard and strikes, you clearly have no clue how to throw a kick and I doubt you can throw a punch."
"Wow. You really know how to motivate people don't you?"
"No, but I know that you saw my every move. I know you stored that away for later. I know that with enough training you won't get taken down by a simple trip. Now, show me your fighting stance." The two carried on like this for another two hours. Seemingly minor mistakes were corrected as though they'd lead to her untimely demise. The two quipped back and forth. She'd need at least a month's worth of training by his estimate. He was okay with that to be honest. It would let her grow accustomed to her new body. She'd only gained twenty centimeters during augmentation, making her a towering 1.82 meters tall without her armor. Her armor only granted her another five centimeters. Andrew wasn't shy with the short jokes, saying anger made a good motivator. When Andrew decided that was enough, he instructed her to watch the way King fought.
"What am I looking for?"
"Wait for it, there you see that? How he's swinging wide to bash Thermer away?"
"What of it?"
"He's open. Sylas is out, Thermer dodged the strike, but Sam didn't do anything. He's gonna punish Sam for it." Sure enough King pulled the shield back in to guard his core and lashed out with his stun baton at Sam, dropping the sniper on the spot. "King's attacks are very telegraphed. You know what he's doing long before he does it."
"Why didn't Sam use his grapnel to tie up King when he was open?"
"That's what I'm wondering. Good catch." They watched on as King pushed Thermer farther back. King swung wide with the massive shield again, Thermer flared his thrusters propelling him back against the wall. Jaq leaned forward to yell something to their leader, but Andrew's hand stopped her. King dashed forwards with the shield narrowly missing Thermer as the marksman rolled away. Thermer was up before King had recovered and took advantage, tackling the machine gunner to the ground and pressing a knife to his throat. King's baton was pressed to Thermer's obliques. The two helped each other off the floor and unlocked their eliminated teammates' armor. Thermer signed for the team to rally on him.
"I think that's enough for today. Jaq what did you learn with Andrew?"
"Telegraphing and practiced my strikes. Sam, when King lashes out with the shield you should use your grapnel to tie him up. Boss, get into his guard faster, it takes him time to bring the shield back around." Jaq replied.
"She understands the concepts. It's just a matter of making them muscle memory. I'd say she has a month of training before she holds her own." Andrew said.
"Make it so Andrew. Jaq, I'm glad you took that advice to heart. Keep at it alright."
"Thanks Boss. I'm going to have a hard time sorting out Andrew's movements. He's subtle in how he strikes."
"He's been at this for twenty-four years. He plays his cards close to his chest. The signs that he'll strike are miniscule at best." Sam said.
"He doesn't look old enough to be a twenty-four-year vet."
"I'll tell you more when we get back to barracks." Andrew said plainly. "We should hit up armor bay and the mess first, I'm getting hungry."
Operation Street Sweeper is not the end of the Red Hand threat in Lambda Rho. O.N.I's significance in this story will be reduced from here on. The team will be getting adjusted to their new teammate. In the meantime I'll be diving into other projects.
небеса means Empyrean or Heaven in Ukrainian
