Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted materials contained herein. They are the rightful property of their respective creators and/or associated companies I make no profit from this whatsoever and I have no intention of changing this in the future. I write because it's fun and because there are those who enjoy reading my stories. Therefore it would be appreciated if no one decided to sue me for whatever reason. I can assure you that whatever you got from me wouldn't cover even a fifth of your legal fees.
Note: Okay here it is, the turning point many of you have been waiting for, Xander and Joyce getting back their memories of Sunnydale and that universe. It won't be happening in this chapter but it will be happen during the course of this mission so please be patient.
UNSC Thermopylae
Main Infirmary
Alex-069's POV
Time to put the finishing touches on my last lesson, he thought as he walked towards a particular group of cadets huddled around one of their own injured in a hospital bed.
If he recalled correctly, the cadet in the bed was Walter Vickers, who'd taken a glancing plasma bolt to the leg during the last quarter of the trek to the mine. Nothing serious from what he'd been able to determine and, with proper medical care along with some rehab, the kid would be back in classes in a couple months. He and the other former members of the Corbulo Academy were being relocated to the teaching facilities on Reach since the planet was far enough inside UNSC space to make a repeat of the Covenant attack unlikely any time soon. With any luck the firsthand experience fighting the Covenant would give the cadets both the experience and incentive to do better in their studies so that, when they finally graduated, they'd be ready for whatever came after them next.
Orenski predictably was the first to notice him and immediately snapped to attention. "ATTENTION!"
All of the other cadets did the same either because they had been conditioned to respond so or had quickly spotted him after looking to wonder why their squad leader had spoken.
"At ease, cadets," he said, deciding that since technically he wasn't an officer in the UNSC, there was no need for them to be so formal. "I just came to see how you were doing."
"A few cuts and bruises sir but nothing Hastati Squad can't handle," Cadet Orenski replied, speaking for her squad like a commanding officer would during a debriefing.
"Good. You've all been given a gift few cadets get to have, so I hope you'll make the most of it," he said, looking at each of them in turn.
"A gift?! We nearly got killed a dozen times!" Cadet Sullivan exclaimed, clearly thinking that what'd happened on the planet was something else entirely.
"Cadet! Stand down!" Orenski barked, clearly disapproving of her subordinate's behavior.
"Your reaction is understandable, Cadet Sullivan. From one point of view, that is," he said, not showing any sign of offense or anger. "From another point of view you now know what real combat is like and you've survived an encounter with a threat that is proving to be substantial. Most cadets elsewhere only have books, vids, lectures and field exercises to help them become officers of the UNSC. All of that occurs in safe and structured environments far from the front lines, with your instructors deliberately holding back to keep from seriously harming you or killing you. In combat there is no such safety or structure. You know this now."
He could see that all the cadets were taking this in and he could tell that, after their brush with the Covenant, their fear of the enemy was tangible. However he knew that he could not let their fear take root especially at this stage of their training. While fear might be helpful in keeping a soldier alive, it could just as easily lead to disaster if they didn't learn to control it properly. He needed to give them the one thing that every soldier needed to have if they were to keep their heads in battle and keep pushing forward to victory.
Hope.
"Unlike the cadets elsewhere who can only think of battle in terms of their training exercises, you know what the real thing is like," he said, trying to sound more confident in them. "Take this experience into your training from this day forward. Use it to push you to become better, to fight smarter and if you have the time help those around you to become the soldiers the UNSC needs. Do this and I know that someday you will be the ones giving a speech like this to your subordinates."
There.
It wasn't a roaring flame or anything so dramatic but he could see in their eyes that his vote of confidence had made each of them think that perhaps they really were cut out to be soldiers, that maybe if they applied themselves in their training that they'd rise up to become commanding officers of rank themselves, thus making this baptism by fire worth it. While some might call him optimistic in thinking that one encounter with the Covenant would be enough to turn them from average to exemplary, he liked to maintain a positive outlook for the future. With the insights they'd gained fighting the Covenant and protecting their fellow students, they'd lose many of the mistakes that cadets who only knew training exercises used until experience eliminated them. With that bit of time saved they would all be able to allocate the extra time to improving their respective skills past what had previously been expected of them by their instructors.
With a little luck it'd be enough to see them through the war that was beginning to take shape.
If what he and his team fought was indicative of what was to come, then the UNSC was in for a war much greater than what they'd feared might happen with the Insurrectionists.
"Now I'll leave you to your healing, Cadet Vickers," he said, turning to leave for the room that'd been set aside for his team. "Maybe we'll run into each other on the battlefield someday."
Walking away, he could hear the gathered cadets snap off the best at attention salutes they could and barely managed to keep himself from shaking his head in exasperation. They were young and their hearts were in the right place, so he wouldn't spoil the show by dismissing it with a shaking head. He'd meant every word he'd said and if those words helped them to become better soldiers than they otherwise would've been then he was satisfied with that.
Upon leaving the infirmary and walking the halls of the ship, he could tell that, thanks to being filled to capacity, the amount of room to walk was at a minimum. Given the size of the average SPARTAN, that made getting from point A to point B a challenge but, thanks to Chief Mendez, it wasn't anything he couldn't handle. Still it took him twice as long as it normally would've for him to reach the room but, when the door opened, he saw that both Daisy and Joy were already settled in.
For soldiers like them, though, that just meant the helmets were off and they were sitting or lying down in whatever position was most comfortable for them. The Mjolnir armor, after all, required a complicated array of mechanical arms along with a few technicians to remove entirely, with precious few UNSC ships at the moment having either at the ready for the time being. He doubted that it'd ever get to the point where they'd be able to switch to less formal attire like the rank and file soldiers could, but he'd make due with whatever he could do.
"So you give the cadets a little pep talk?" Joy asked, looking up from the portable computer that was part of her standard load out.
"Yep."
"Think it'll work?" Daisy asked while still working to clean her guns.
"Time will tell," he replied honestly since precognition was not a part of the SPARTAN-II upgrade package.
"Any idea where they'll be sending us next?" Joy asked, no doubt wanting to do as much advanced research on their destination as she could.
"Wherever we're needed," he replied, unable to come up with a more definitive answer.
They knew that the Covenant planned on attacking any human world or installation they came across, exterminating the populations before glassing the surface. However, without knowing things like the size of the enemy fleet, how they intended to deploy that fleet or what targets took priority over others, all they could do was focus on targets that they would prioritize if they were the invaders. Some things after all were universal and, unless the obvious religious nature of the extermination played a bigger factor in how the Covenant did things, then he thought certain consistent patterns would emerge.
He just hoped that ONI and the rest managed to get some better intel on the enemy before too long, because every mistake made would cost lives aplenty.
BXR-695 Mining Colony
One Year Later
Approaching Tunnel E-25
"I'm tellin' ya, Bob… we're getting screwed!" he said as they maneuvered the mining vehicle down the tunnel. "We work, day in and day out, churning out metal ore that those UNSC bastards need for their warships and guns but where does that get us? Nowhere, that's where!"
"Yep," Bob said even as he continued to drive the vehicle.
"The amount of money we're making per pound of ore is insulting!" he said as he saw the turn they were looking for coming into view. "We could get twice that amount if we sold to some company or private citizen, but thanks to that bullshit contract our boss signed, if we did that he'd get in all sorts of legal shit that'd make it all pointless!"
"Yep," Bob said, turning the vehicle to the right.
"It's almost enough to make you think about checking out your options with the 'independents'," he said, only showing a little hesitation for the dangerous alias he was using.
Bob just gave him a look that clearly said 'do NOT even kid about that' and it was easy to figure out why.
For over thirty years the UNSC had been working its ass off to try and put down the various insurrectionist factions that'd sprouted up but they hadn't been very successful. Sure, if you believed the headlines and the news broadcasts, they made it sound like it was only a matter of time before the last 'innie' was put behind bars or killed. The fact of the matter was that, while not without victories, no one really believed that after thirty plus years of fighting that things were going to end soon. Why? Because every so often one side or the other upped the level of destruction, death and mayhem, provoking their adversary into going that little bit further.
As long as the galactic game of one upmanship continued, the struggle would never end until one side couldn't fight back anymore.
What did that have to do with the look Bob was giving him?
Because of the fact that, because just about anyone could be a part of an Insurrectionist faction, ONI and the UNSC had gone to great lengths to both capture members AND nip any potential recruits in the bud. They kept an eye out for anyone expressing a greater than normal dissatisfaction with the people in charge or were showing signs of looking for points of contact with an Insurrectionist faction. Depending on how much money, resources or potential additional recruits a person of interest had, they could either be ignored or some reason fabricated to arrest them. Normally a person would just look at all the reports to find out where the proverbial line in the sand was between being ignored and being disappeared by ONI.
The problem with that was that no one, NO ONE, had managed to find out where that line was since the whole mess began. Some speculated that ONI and the UNSC were intentionally moving the line in order to keep their arrest rate high but only the hardcore conspiracy theorists treated the concept as reality.
Still… Bob usually had good instincts about these sort of things.
"Maybe not," he said with some uneasiness. "It's just that we've been at this for over fifteen years, pal, and we've got nothing to show for it. We barely make enough credits to keep what we got! There's no way that's fair! Right?"
"Yep," Bob said as the signs letting them know how deep they were going into the tunnel passed by the windows.
"I got into mining for the big score, the brass ring, the find of a lifetime that I could retire on," he explained even as he saw the mining crew that'd called him down here waiting for him. "Instead all I've gotten is more of the same thing day in and day out. Same with you?"
"Yep," Bob replied, nodding his head as the vehicle came to a stop.
"Well let's see if today we get something new or the same old bullshit," he said, getting out of the vehicle and heading for the leader of the mining group. "What've we got?"
"Well, sir, me and the guys were digging like normal looking for new veins of ore when we… well, hit a little obstacle," Stan replied, looking back at his crew.
"What? Gas pocket? Something toxic?" he asked, putting forth the two most common obstructions to a miner's work.
"Not… exactly. It's… well…" Stan replied, fidgeting before finally accepting that he couldn't explain it right. "…it's best if you see it for yourself."
Raising an eyebrow in puzzlement, he followed Stan as the crew leader showed him to the end of the tunnel they'd been digging. At first he didn't see anything but when he came to the center of the rock face he spotted what had Stan so concerned. While he'd come across quite a few formations of ore that were smoother than you'd expect, what he beheld at the moment beat them all hands down.
In fact, as crazy as it might sound, it didn't looked like it was a natural array of ore, looking back it him, but rather something… artificial.
"What've you used on it?" he asked even as he tried to put a label on what he was seeing.
"The usual cutting lasers and drill bits, mostly," Stan replied, pointing over at the common tools of the miner's trade. "Not so much as a dent."
Definitely more than common ore, he thought, pondering what he knew about mining and mining equipment. We've drilled through just about every kind of ore known to mankind and never had this kind of trouble.
Picking up one of the cutting lasers, he tweaked the settings to what experience told him would get the best bite out of anything it touched. Once he was satisfied he walked up to the cause of today's problems and fired the laser, keeping an eye on the point of contact. Flinching at the light given off by the laser drill, his eyes soon adjusted but what he saw only reinforced Stan's earlier statement. Normally he could see the ore breaking down or the rock chipping away but nothing was happening.
That could only mean one thing: whatever he was trying to cut through was stronger than anything the laser was designed to get through. Seeing as how there had never been a recorded case of a naturally occurring ore doing such a thing, that could only mean that what he was trying to burn through was unnatural.
And artificial buried underground on a world the human race had never been could only mean one thing.
Alien!
This… could… be… BIG!
But only if they could get a grip on whatever it was they'd come across so they could sell it properly to the higher ups. No suit from the top ever paid anything for something nebulous.
"Bob. Get the S.E.P. from the truck," he ordered, figuring it stood the best chance of giving them an image to look at.
Dutiful as ever, his number two guy did as he'd been asked and a few minutes later the Sonar Engine Projector was ready for use. Following the steps that he'd been trained on, he brought its various systems and programs up one by one before initiating the process to map out this potentially monumental discovery. Pulse after pulse was sent into the unnatural wall and, with every one, an image began to appear on the screen allowing him to learn more.
The first thing that became rather obvious was what they'd found was MUCH bigger than he'd thought it'd be when he'd first beheld the oddity. The S.E.P. had been going on for about a minute and still there wasn't anything even approaching an end point with the distance covered reaching half a mile already.
Just what the hell had they stumbled across?
When the S.E.P. reached the edge of what it could perceive at its current power setting, he still didn't have anything that really got him closer to having what he'd need to bargain a payday out of the higher ups.
He needed MORE!
"Hey, Kyle! You and Cartman take the power cables for the lasers and bring them over here," he ordered, a plan of action forming in his mind.
"What've you got in mind, boss?" McCormick asked, sounding a little antsy.
"A power boost for the S.E.P.," he replied before plugging in one of the cables into one of the auxiliary inputs the device had. "Should boost the range and hopefully give us something to work with."
"Isn't that… dangerous?" Stan asked, inching a bit further away from the S.E.P.
"Of course not! At worst it'll fry the S.E.P. and it's worth the risk to get what we need," he replied, brushing off the concern.
One by one he plugged in the power cables until the S.E.P. was as powerful as it was going to be without some serious hardware additions. Once satisfied with the connections he began tapping away at the controls of the device to get it to accept the additional power and push its reach even further. Thus with a massive pulse, stronger than any that'd come before, he expected to get even better results and hopefully results that would net him a big payday with the higher ups.
He'd make sure some of it got tossed to Stan and his crew.
He wasn't a greedy bastard like SOME execs up in their ivory towers.
It was when the tunnel began to shake in a way that could not be explained by the S.E.P., though, that he began to wonder if he should've quit while he was ahead. It wasn't quite the shaking you'd expect from the beginning of a cave in or anything but like the shifting of rock when you successfully cleared an obstructed tunnel. It caused some concern for him and some anxiety for the others but it didn't look like any of them were entertaining ideas of running for the surface just yet.
When he saw three hot spots begin to form on either side of the tunnel, though, that a bad feeling began to develop in the bottom of his stomach. As the total of six hot spots glowed brighter and brighter, the others decidedly began to move closer to the vehicle in preparation for making as quick an escape as they could. It was only when the rock began to melt away from the centers of each hot spot that he took action by removing the data storage core from the S.E.P. and clicked on his miner helmet camera. Not every miner had a camera, usually just those with the authority to make decisions, but he did and he had a feeling what was about to happen next was something he'd want to catch on film.
He wasn't wrong.
When enough of the newly molten rock dripped down from the hot spots… things… came out of the holes that reminded him of miniature hammerhead sharks created by a master engineer. Thrusters of some kind replaced the side fins with what he guessed was the main source of propulsion at the rear and the golden glow at the center of the 'head' was probably a powerful directed energy mechanism. As the glow from the mechanism faded to a quiet glow the objects flitted through the air briefly before all six zeroed in on him and his crew.
No one moved an inch. They were all too afraid to draw attention to themselves for fear of what that might lead to.
It was only when one of them became focused on McCormick that a beam of light like a flashlight began to pan over the poor man.
That cut the final line of restraint that the miner had and, with all the smoothness of a man acting on irrational fear instead of clam thought, McCormick reached for something tucked into the back of his pants. In an instant it was revealed to be a shoddy looking M6 magnum that made one wonder if it could even fire properly but, when shots barked out of its barrel one after another, it proved the gun was functional. Only one successfully struck the light emitting machine but it did not, to the naked eye, do any damage at all.
The same could not be said of the response that came less than two seconds later when the once gentle light became a terrible focused force of destruction that burned a hole through McCormick like he was made of grass. The damage expanded from where the energy touched but only by a few additional inches before the man dropped to the ground, lifeless.
"It killed Kenny!" Stan cried out before running to pick up McCormick's gun.
Idiot!
Running back to the vehicle, he got inside and started the engine, pausing only long enough to let Bob back in before reversing down the tunnel. If the unknown was anything to go by, these… machines… could not be harmed by anything within reach, so remaining to fight them was nothing more than suicide. The correct course of action was to get back to the main mining facility where he could send news of what'd happened to those higher up the chain of command. At the very least the presence of those machines made mining in tunnel E-25 impossible and, if they were to spread to the entire mine, it would need to be shut down.
In the worst case scenario… the entire colony might need to be evacuated.
Whatever the outcome, he would never forget the screams of the crew that'd been left behind or the choices that'd led to their deaths.
The consequences of ambition were not always contained to the one that possessed it and the full ramifications could not always be deduced.
He just prayed that he would be permitted his ignorance because he did not think his soul could handle the full scope of what his actions had brought about.
Unknown Room in an Unknown Building Somewhere on Earth
Two Days Later
"Please be seated," she said, having been waiting in her seat for the past hour preparing for this briefing.
Looking at the assembled seven ranking members of ONI, she had to admit that it was harder than she would've thought to bring them all together in person in one spot without a certain someone catching wind of it. As much as she'd never admit it out loud, Doctor Katherine Halsey had her grudging respect as someone who could take crumbs and, with time, tell you what cake it came from. Normally, no matter whom she dealt with, she always had the facts, favors or dirty little secrets necessary to make sure things happened according to her script. The only variable that usually changed was whether something required a soft touch to go how she wanted or required something heavy handed in order to force the universe down her desired path.
While it was true that for most of the scientist's career she could've crushed the woman with relative ease, there was now a variable in play that made it so that the costs of such a move outweighed any benefits she might gain.
For now, that is.
That variable, of course, was the SPARTAN II soldiers who thus far had proven to be quite the asset both against the Insurrectionists as well as the Covenant. While conventional troops and ODST were a credit to the training they had received, Halsey's creations had proven to be the deciding factor with regards to victory. In time perhaps conventional troops would've proven able of accomplishing similar objectives but not without incurring serious losses and wasting resources needlessly. Only the flaws of overall cost of manufacture and the low survival rate kept her from issuing orders to conscript even more subjects for the process.
Therefore, unless Halsey did something that could not be allowed to slide, she would allow the doctor to carry out her assignments using whatever means assured results.
In this case, though, what she'd been informed about could very well lead to the SPARTAN IIs becoming obsolete and the proposed SPARTAN III program cancelled.
"Now that we're all here, perhaps you could explain all the cloak and dagger bullshit we had to put up with to get here," a man to her right said in his usual abrasive manner.
It was surprising that such a blunt man was actually responsible for coordinating half the covert ops in the outer colonies and had proven capable of an acceptable level of subtlety.
"The reason I called you all here can best be explained by this video," she replied, pressing the button on her chair. "Before you ask, the authenticity of what you're about to see has been verified. One of our 'Bloodhound' agents happened to be assigned at the location at the time and followed the usual protocol with regards to unexpected discoveries."
She, of course, had already seen the video being played for the others present and had questioned the agent who'd submitted the report to ensure that NOTHING was overlooked. Measuring each of their reactions, she could see that at first they were apathetic and considered it a waste of their valuable time but, when facts were revealed indicating an unnatural object, their interest rose. However it was when the Hammerhead drones melted their ways out of the walls of the mining tunnel that she knew the video had their undivided attention. From there it was just a matter of seeing one of the miners killed with a single shot and the sounds of the others being massacred that told her that she'd not hear one word of discontent from them from this point onward.
"Alien technology. Is it the same as the Covenant tech?" a woman from her left asked, scrutinizing the frozen image of the drones on the holo-screen.
"No. It matches nothing we've seen them use thus far, even assuming what they have is a heavily bastardized version of the real deal," she replied, shaking her head. "Also, as part of his duties, the agent had gear with him designed to detect, record and aid in analyzing suspicious transmissions within a ten mile radius. He was able to record five seconds of a transmission that definitely was NOT human in origin and also did not match Covenant transmissions. See for yourself."
Bringing up the recorded transmission in the best way possible to convince those assembled of the gravity of the situation, she herself listened and looked. The moment her language and script experts had confirmed to her satisfaction that this belonged to no human or Covenant variation, she'd put pressure on them to figure out what was being said. Naturally the experts had tried to convey to her that deciphering a language based on a mere five seconds of data was going to be almost insurmountably hard. However she made sure to convey to the experts that she wanted nothing less than their best efforts and construct at least a partial understanding of the new language sooner rather than later.
The experts had been working under her for quite some time so they knew the message hidden in her professional statement.
'Produce some results or I'll find others who can give me what I want.'
"Does this mean that the source of this technology is from another race? One that might be comparable to where the Covenant got their technology?" the woman on the left asked, sounding like she realized how important this discovery could prove to be.
"Unknown. The agent wasn't able to get a sample to test for age but, given how deep the technology is buried, it is likely to be quite old," she replied, honestly wishing she had something more definitive to say. "Any technology capable of remaining in such good condition after so long buried is certain to be quite advanced indeed."
"While I do admit that this is interesting, I doubt it's something that we'll be able to make use of in the immediate future," the man on the right said, sounding more restrained with his optimism. "We're still working on understanding and developing countermeasures to Covenant technology and we've had a few years for that. Is it really wise to take on another long term project?"
"Given how the war with the Covenant is progressing, I don't see how we can simply ignore this," the woman on the left said, showing her support for further investigation. "While we might be making progress on our ground battles, we are completely at a disadvantage in space. The battle of Xi Bootis A makes that abundantly clear. We need to follow up on anything that might level the playing field."
"Indeed. As such I propose sending a team of scientists along with the necessary security detail to the mining colony," she said, revealing her intentions.
While it was true that, due to her rank, she could essentially do what she wanted without involving them at all, it often proved to her benefit to maintain the semblance of protocol and a chain of command. It gave the less 'enlightened' members of ONI and the UNSC the idea that they could control her actions, or at least predict them by using the rules as a framework. Besides that there were several in this room whose allegiances she needed to keep at least for the foreseeable future, so making them believe that she valued them enough to bring them in on this was necessary.
"Who did you have in mind for the science team?" the man on the right asked as the others in the room listened.
"Doctor's Hardy, Sorvad, Sullivan and Tillson," she replied, listing the scientists she felt would best suit the situation. "As for the security I realize that there are precious few soldiers we can afford to divert from the frontlines. As such, I recommend a team of SPARTAN IIs with a ship in orbit to monitor for any unexpected arrivals in the system."
"Who're you worried is going to swing by?" the man on the right asked, doing a passable job at hiding his distaste for the SPARTAN IIs.
THIS was becoming a trend and she could only blame Ackerson and his small confederacy of likeminded soldiers that had made their dislike of the SPARTAN IIs subtly clear. This was not unanticipated since it was common throughout history that, whenever a significant advancement was made, the advocates of the previous standard became resistant. In this case those that supported conventional soldiers opposed the idea of any sort of technological enhancements to create superior soldiers. Minor gene therapy and performance enhancing medicine were one thing but the enhancements carried out by Halsey apparently crossed the line for those like Ackerson. Some of this faction kept their dislike subtle whereas others were about as blunt as a person could be in word as well as in action.
"No one in particular but both the Insurrectionists and the Covenant have shown an aptitude for showing up where they're not expected," she replied, deciding she had better things to do than chastise someone about their personal vendettas. "In the case of the former, they would love to acquire technology that might actually allow them to break free of the UEG. As for the Covenant, it's even money as to whether they'll try to acquire it or destroy it should they reach the mining colony."
"Then I suggest deployment of two teams of ODSTs to act as additional security for the excavation site," the man on the right said, making it sound like he wanted the mission to succeed. "We can't afford to divert more than six SPARTAN IIs from the frontlines and, if this find is as big as it looks to be, then just six isn't going to cut it."
Pathetic.
It was obvious that the man didn't trust the SPARTAN IIs to get the job done and wanted the ODSTs present to take full advantage of any opportunities to make the 'freaks' look bad. Well, she had a plan of her own and she had no patience for schoolyard squabbles.
"Very well. Now, as far as the specifics are concerned, I've selected Captain Hood of the UNSC Burlington. The man has proven capable and has not demonstrated an unlikable level of curiosity regarding orders," she said bringing up the man's file on one side of the table holographically. "As for the SPARTAN IIs, according to latest report Rogue team is available for assignment."
"Rogue team?! If you wanted the location destroyed Hood can just bombard the place from orbit." the man on the right exclaimed, clearly aware of Rogue team's reputation.
So was she and that was part of the reason why she'd selected them.
While it was true that the team had an almost uncanny knack for making things blow up or having things blow up in their presence, there was another thing that could not be disputed. The leader, Alex-069, had proven to be quite skilled at outside of the box thinking and seeing things that other more experienced officers had missed. Given that they knew next to nothing about the alien technology, the SPARTAN's abilities would be crucial if the operation was to avoid any 'unforeseen accidents'. However she knew that if she wanted Rogue team to be assigned, then she'd need to assign the remaining three SPARTAN positions to those who'd proven themselves disciplined and responsible.
"They won't be thereby themselves. I've also selected three other SPARTAN IIs that I think you will approve of," she said, bringing up the files on the ones she'd chosen. "Cal-141, Maria-062 and Naomi-010 will fill in the remaining slots."
Cal-141 had proven to be quite adept at getting the most out of her Mjolnir armor without sacrificing agility or dexterity. Maria-062 was the quickest at acclimating to new technology once it was officially deployed to the field after being put through its paces in the testing phase. As for Naomi-010, she would provide backup for Joy-070 in the area of intelligence and determining how to operate unknown tech on the fly. Coupled with Rogue team's collection of skills and standard loadout for combat missions, they would make a formidable obstacle for any intruders to overcome.
"Then I must insist on Fireteam Fox and Lima Team for the ODST teams," the man on the right insisted, making it clear he'd fight her on this if necessary.
"I have no complaints with those choices. Both of them have performed well in the field despite having several unfavorable situations dropped in their laps," she said, unable to think of a single reason to reject those suggestions. "However they will prioritize the success of the operation over all else and maintain a professional demeanor at ALL times. Understood?"
"Though I doubt it'll be necessary, I'll see that they get the message," the man said, making it clear that he expected the ODST teams to perform above and beyond the call of duty.
"Good. Officially these resources will be reallocated in response to a possible Covenant R&D facility in a classified sector of space," she said, looking at each of the people present in turn. "I expect each of you to doctor up the necessary paperwork to keep those on the outside happy and decidedly not curious."
Everyone nodded at this and with that the meeting was over save for some brief status updates on ongoing operations as well as minor intelligence gains. There was nothing substantial and definitely nothing to warrant extending the meeting's duration by more than a handful of minutes. When the last of them left the room she wondered if it would be prudent to place some eyes on the anti-SPARTAN II man just in case he tried to do something to further his own personal agenda. Strength through paranoia was a concept she lived by and it had served her well over the years so, while some would call it a waste of resources, she'd have one of her agents slip aboard the Burlington to keep an eye on things. Someone easily overlooked but potentially useful for either the SPARTAN IIs or ODSTs should either group try something behind the other's back.
Perhaps a test of loyalty is called for, she thought, considering one potential agent.
It was a risky play but she felt confident that even if the surveillance agent was exposed, it wouldn't lead to mission failure.
It would just mean a shift in tactics.
Aboard a Pelican Heading up to the UNSC Burlington
A Couple of Days Later
Alex-069's POV
"So… think this'll be a milk run?" Daisy asked, peeking through the cockpit window at the UNSC ship getting closer and closer.
"Hard to say. The Burlington is labeled as a support vessel rather than a frontline combat role," he replied, keeping a steady gaze on the ship. "Usually that means delivering supplies or running escort for fighters in atmo or out of it. Can't see either being big enough to justify SPARTAN II involvement."
Indeed, the usual missions that SPARTAN IIs got assigned to were either high risk operations that no conventional team could hope to accomplish or survive, or to bail out said conventional soldiers. He'd led his team through quite a few, though the exact number escaped him at the moment, and most of them could be called success stories despite some anomalous occurrences. Still, due to things that were in no way his fault, a lot of people, including Daisy and Joy, seemed to think that explosions were to be expected when Rogue team was present.
As if it was his fault that the Covies didn't properly store their munitions. Or somehow it was his fault that shooting discipline among the Grunts was nonexistent, leading to quite a bit of random firing that OCCASSIONALLY result in detonations.
As for the times when the use of explosives was authorized and yet the blast wound up being bigger than was requested, he blamed that on the fact that they were dealing with alien tech. Despite the fact that every available scientist in the necessary field was probably working around the clock trying to figure it out, there were still too many things they were in the dark about. Joy kept him updated on anything new that was learned and, when the mission permitted it, he let her take a look at anything Covenant that perked her interest. It wasn't the same as looking it over in a real lab with all the necessary gear but he'd take whatever he could get, especially if it'd net them an appreciable gain.
As the Pelican entered the hanger and began to settle towards its assigned landing spot, he spotted three people he hadn't seen since all members of the program were issued their Mjolnir armor.
"Well, well. Looks like we're getting backup," Daisy said, sounding pleased at seeing the familiar faces.
Metaphorically speaking, of course.
It was part of their orders that they never remove their helmets in unsecure environments or in front of those below a certain security clearance. The reason for this was the fact that it was believed that, if others saw how young they were and did the mental math, it'd cause something of an uproar among the rank and file, as well as the civilians. Considering how serious the war with the Covenant was, they couldn't afford to be fighting the aliens AND those who couldn't wait until the fighting was over with to discuss the matter.
So for the time being all of his 'family' had agreed to follow this rule but, when the war was over with and the dust settled, people would be held accountable.
One way or another.
Until then he was pleased to see Callista, Naomi and Maria waiting for Rogue team, since it meant that there'd be solid backup if things turned sour on this mission.
"Good to see you again, zero-six-nine," Maria said as they shook hands. "Heard you've been having fun without us."
"No more than you've been having without us," he said as they released hands. "Any idea what this is about?"
"None," Callista said, shaking her head minimally. "Briefing's set to start soon, so we'll find out then."
Nodding in agreement, he took the lead as he normally did, heading towards the corridor that'd lead to the briefing room. He'd been on enough UNSC frigates that he knew where every room was, as well as which places you did not want to get hit in a ship-to-ship battle. As he left the hanger of the ship, though, one thing caught his interest for a moment and made him think that this mission was a shady ONI mission.
You didn't send two ODST teams and six SPARTAN IIs on either a support run or a fighter escort operation.
You sent them on a mission where you expected combat and plenty of it.
"Looks like this mission just got a lot chillier," Daisy said quietly between their helmet com-units.
"Keep it professional and limit contact," he said, knowing that his third in command had spotted the ODSTs as well. "The mission comes first."
"Understood," Daisy said before cutting the connection.
All of them knew that, since their very first mission, the ODSTs didn't like them and saw them as less than human due to their enhancements. In some cases it was simply anger at being replaced since generally the only time something was replaced was when it couldn't do its job anymore. No one thought anything of it when this happened to equipment but, when it happened to people, especially soldiers, it was a quiet insult to the capabilities to those that'd come before. In other cases, though, SPARTAN IIs were seen as being unnatural and against the natural order of things, making them something to be opposed. Whatever their reasons, ultimately it meant that most of the ODSTs that his team had come into contact with had shown their dislike as much as they could without pushing their superior officers into doing something about it.
Some superior officers granted more leeway than others.
It took only five minutes to reach the briefing room and when he arrived he saw two men in ODST uniforms, four twenty-something civilians that had the same aura as Doctor Halsey and a man in a captain's uniform.
"Rogue Team reporting," he said, saluting the captain, since it was likely his ship they were on and he was the highest ranked officer present.
"Good to have you aboard. Normally I'd tell you to sit down but, considering all we have are standard issue chairs, I don't think that'd be a bright idea," the captain said before addressing the group as a whole. "If you'll close the door we can proceed with the briefing."
Nodding he turned to do as asked only to find Joy closing the door for him, locking it and then positioning herself so that if someone unauthorized did come in, they wouldn't get very far. Resuming an attentive posture, he waited for the captain to begin the briefing.
"First let me make this clear: what you're about to hear is top secret. If they're not in this room or above captain rank, then this mission doesn't exist." The captain looked each person present in the eyes. "Understand?"
Nods flowed around the table, satisfying everyone that no one would speak of what they'd learn in this room.
With a few keystrokes the large view screen built into the wall lit up, showing a planet but there was nothing recognizable about it that'd let him name it.
"This is mining colony BXR-695. A little under one week ago a mining crew came across something in one of their newer tunnels that was out of the ordinary," the captain explained before the image changed to the mining facility itself. "A metal wall of unknown origin that couldn't be cut with traditional mining lasers or tools. According to the report ONI received, it was definitely not unprocessed ore and, based on the scan results of the S.E.P. the crew chief used, the wall is part of something big. VERY big.
"However the interesting part didn't happen until the crew chief did all he could to max out the range of the S.E.P.," the captain said, tapping a few more buttons. "This is raw footage taken from the crew chief's helmet-cam."
What followed was video footage showing what appeared to the small airborne mechanical drones that vaguely resembled hammerhead sharks. From what he could see, the positioning of the engines and the overall design would allow for quick maneuvering and its small size would make destroying them difficult. It was a little under a minute into the recording when one of the drones emitted a focused beam of light on one of the miners but it was tough to say what its purpose was. Considering that the man didn't seem to be feeling any pain or discomfort, he was willing to wager that it was some sort of scanning beam.
Too bad for the miner being scanned that he immediately assumed that it was a prelude to an attack and took out a sidearm in need of repair before shooting at the scanning drone.
This proved to be the wrong thing to do since seconds later the scanning drone shifted to a more offensive mode before using some sort of energy weapon to punch a hole through the miner's torso. From that point on the camera footage become unbearably shaky and fortunately whoever had reviewed it beforehand had cut out the rest of the recording since it'd be impossible to make anything useful out.
"Since the time of the incident all civilians have been evacuated off planet, with only a skeleton crew left behind both to act as oversight as well as to provide us with any information not on record," the captain explained after the image shifted to a very basic map showing the layout of the mining facility both above ground as well as below the surface.
"Any data on what we're looking at? A ship? A facility?" he asked, trying to figure out what they could be fighting if the situation devolved into a firefight for whatever reason.
"Your guess is as good as mine, SPARTAN. Based on how deep it is and comparing it to other excavations, I think it's safe to say humans were still figuring out how to make a half decent spear when this thing touched atmosphere." the captain replied, sounding like he hadn't been clued in by those of superior rank beforehand.
"And yet many of its more sophisticated systems are still operational," one of the civvies said, his tone confirming that the man was a scientist. "Amazing."
"The beam the drone initially used was likely some manner of scanning device attempting to identify the source of the S.E.P.'s emissions and the operators," the woman added, looking like her brain was already moving a mile a minute coming up with theories then internally debating them. "The fact that it automatically reacted with lethal force is troubling. Based on the video footage, it didn't look like the man's pistol did any damage at all."
"We can't assume that the drone intended to kill the man," another male scientist pointed out, sounding like he didn't want to jump to conclusions. "Given the advanced nature of the weapon and the drone itself, it's entirely possible that when used against targets of equal or greater technological advancement, the energy discharged wouldn't have been more than a stun blast."
"It's pointless to speculate based on just that footage," the second woman on what was likely the research team assigned to the operation cut in. "We have to wait until we're actually on the planet and close enough to get some samples."
"Indeed. Our mission is study whatever the buried technology is, determine its nature and, if possible, see if it can be adapted to strengthen our ships," the captain said, nodding his head in agreement. "The SPARTANs and ODSTs will be providing groundside security while the Burlington and I will run oversight as well as keep an eye out for uninvited guests."
"Typical military. Scientific find of the century and they want to use it to blow shit up," the older of the two men griped, sounding like he'd dealt with something similar in the past.
"I understand, Doctor Sorvad, but humanity is at a serious disadvantage against a very real threat," the captain said, sounding sympathetic to the scientist's point of view. "You're not cleared for the details but suffice it to say we sent a fleet of seventy ships to deal with eight enemy vessels and we lost thirty of them. In another confrontation we had the enemy outnumbered ten to one but we still lost a third of our ships. We need something to even the playing field and this discovery holds the potential to be that something."
He was all too aware of which battles the captain was referring to since he'd made a point of keeping tabs on all new developments in the war with special focus on the battles. Anything that could give him an insight into how the Covenant forces fought and thought needed to be scrutinized in order to make sure fewer troopers died on Rogue team's next assignment. One thing that'd been made clear was that, while groundside they were putting up a good fight and winning a few battles, the enemy warships held a terrible advantage over any UNSC ships they faced.
"I… understand, Captain Hood," Doctor Sorvad said with reluctant comprehension. "Just give us some time to find a few things that can HELP people instead of hurt them, okay? I didn't become a scientist to work weapons R&D."
"Unless things get unpleasant, doctor, you should have all the time you need," Captain Hood said with a nod of permission. "The mining colony is in a fairly untraveled part of the galaxy and nowhere near the most recent combat zones. It'd take some pretty bad luck for anything to put a rush on your work."
"Then not to sound too uncaring, sergeant, but I hope you and your men are bored out of your skulls for the duration of the mission." Doctor Sorvad said with a humorous grin directed at one of the ODST officer's present.
"I don't blame you, doctor. After some of the action me and my team've seen lately it'll be nice to experience some quiet time," the ODST sergeant said politely, showing that he didn't mind.
Yeah.
Quiet time.
He didn't know what all of them were in for on this mission but his instincts were telling him that quiet was the last thing they'd have in any great supply.
Suited him just fine.
SPARTANs were made for combat, not lounging about some cushy science operation helping with security.
He was certain that the universe agreed and would manipulate variables to accommodate his team.
UNSC Burlington
The Mess Hall
Sergeant Harrelson's POV
"I'm getting too old for this shit," he muttered from his seat in the corner as he watched his team do what he'd expected they would do once word of SPARTAN involvement was revealed.
Lance Corporal Fuller and every team member other than his second in command were stewing in their own juices about the 'freaks' they were being forced to work with. It wouldn't last long, though, and eventually one of them would think it was a good idea to let Rogue team know exactly how they felt. While he'd like to think his men were intelligent enough not to try for something physical, he couldn't dismiss the possibility outright. By their very nature ODSTs were a physical bunch and a certain level of machismo was to be expected, but he knew from firsthand experience that duking it out with a SPARTAN was an order of magnitude beyond stupid. He'd already had the opportunity to see one of them in action against some pretty stiff odds, so he knew that in terms of sheer physical capabilities the SPARTANs far outclassed even the best ODSTs. Add to that the fact that their armor was supposed to be bleeding edge strong and had been shown to possess energy shields, they'd have better odds trying to kill a Hunter with a stick.
However if his team was smart enough to dismiss making their displeasure known through violence, that still left other ways of conveying a person's position.
Words, more specifically insults and derogatory slurs, would likely be the next thing brought to the table, with the only limits being the imagination of the person speaking them. Considering these were best of the best soldiers he was looking at, it wouldn't be beyond what you'd hear tossed about in a busy bar, so the ammo would be fairly crude in nature. Whether it'd be effective or not, he didn't know. Based on what he'd heard from other team leads, SPARTANs weren't much for socializing off the battlefield and pretty much kept to themselves when they weren't shooting things or blowing shit up. It likely meant, in his estimation, that the 'super soldiers' would just ignore anything tossed their way and stick to whatever it was they did before starting a mission. If that did happen then there was a chance that Fuller and the others would back off and regroup to come up with a new plan for making the SPARTANs suffer.
However there was also the chance that being ignored would only piss Fuller off more since being ignored could be seen as being looked down on from a certain point of view.
If THAT happened it could lead to the sabotage of equipment, 'forgetting' to pass on relevant information, and intentionally creatively misinterpreting the orders before passing it on to the SPARTANs.
THAT was something he would not tolerate!
He had no warm and fuzzy feelings as far as SPARTANs were concerned and, quite frankly, he thought the PR division was overhyping them in order to combat the damage to morale the space fight losses were doing. If he'd had the same 'upgrades' and was issued the same armor, he was positive he'd be able to do just as good. That being said, upgrades and equipment only went so far when it came to explaining how a small group of soldiers were able to turn the tide of fights that had been slated for defeat. In terms of training and capability, he couldn't find a single fault in how they carried out a mission because, when they brought the hurt, nothing got in their way. Considering the present situation and everything, he would not turn away that kind of help, especially since it'd mean more humans going home and more aliens NOT going home.
Too bad the younger generation didn't understand that.
They were in a war that was looking to be about the very survival of the human race and Fuller, as well as those like him, wanted to waste their energy harassing friendlies.
Still, gotta pick my moment to step in, he thought after taking a sip of the mud that was military issue coffee. Too soon and I'll lose the respect of my men. Too late and the damage'll have been done.
Hearing the doors to the mess hall open, he was a little surprised to see three of the SPARTANs enter and it was only because of the little things that let him tell them apart from one another. Based on the limited information he had when the assignment had gotten handed to him, he figured the one in the red armor was SPARTAN twenty-three the CQC specialist of Rogue Team. Next to her was another lady SPARTAN in near identical armor except the fact that the helmet had specialized lenses instead of an orange visor, as well as some odd hardware stuck to either side just above the ears. He'd seen similar set ups before and that labeled this one as SPARTAN seventy, the team's marksman and tech specialist. The last one present was, surprisingly enough, the leader of Rogue team, with the only unique thing about his armor being the fact that it looked like it'd seen real combat. He'd seen other members of the ODST with armor that looked the same either because there weren't any replacements to be had or the soldier was determined to keep his armor until it couldn't do its job anymore.
There was one other interesting thing about SPARTAN sixty-nine was the nickname the soldiers that'd seen Rogue leader fight had given him.
'Havoc'.
Apparently whenever the SPARTAN and his team showed up, the pace of the battle soon went right out the window, with no one being able to figure out what the new one was. 'Unpredictable' and 'unconventional' were the words he'd heard tossed about the most whenever someone talked about Rogue team and, if SPARTAN sixty-nine was the one calling the shots, then that said a lot about him. Regardless of the soldier's methods, the results spoke for themselves: dead Covies and saved soldiers. The only thing that made marines worried was the fact that things had a tendency to explode when Rogue team was around. Sure, thus far there'd been no friendly fire, but when it came to explosives it only took one to make a pile of bodies.
Seeing as how all three were still in full armor and had been keeping to themselves since coming on board, he didn't think anyone would be getting a look at the faces behind the helmets. It was more likely that they were there to pick up some food before going back to the quarters that'd been assigned to them. A little disappointing but at least it told him that the SPARTANs needed food just like any other human being instead of some chemical cocktail or specially made baby food. He was about to pick at the small plate of food he'd thrown together when he noticed movement coming from the one part of the room he'd hoped he wouldn't.
Damn it, Fuller! He saw one of his team backed up by the rest of the two teams under the rank of second in command walk towards the three SPARTANs. Why'd you have to start this shit so early?!
A big part of him was planning on just taking a 'wait and see' approach to things since it wouldn't make much sense to jump in right now. However a smaller part of him was worried about how quickly things might go south if he wasn't there to slam on the brakes, so with a sigh he got up from his chair and slowly made his way over. Not fast enough for Fuller or any of his mob to notice him but quick enough that he could step in if things got rough.
"So the freaks finally come out of their hole," Fuller said with malicious casualness. "Guess even your kind need to eat."
"What of it?" SPARTAN sixty-nine asked, half turning towards Fuller.
"Nothing. Me and the guys were just wondering since everything about your kind is top secret," Fuller replied, making it sound like it was no big thing.
"Well now you know," SPARTAN sixty-nine said, not letting things go even further before turning back to where the food.
"Maybe we'd like to know more. People who don't have answers start making up their own and it can get pretty crazy," Fuller said, subtly conveying he wanted to get more out of this encounter.
"All you need to know is we're on the same side and we both have the training every soldier gets in boot camp," SPARTAN sixty-nine said, not rising to the bait. "Nothing else matters."
The truth at last, he thought as he paused in his approach.
That was the bottom line: it didn't matter if you were an ordinary human or if you'd gone under the knife to make yourself better. Both would be soldiers and both were fighting for the human race against monsters hell bent on wiping it out.
Anything else was just details.
"Who're you to say what matters?" one of the soldiers behind Fuller asked with hostility. "You got what you got from needles and an operating table! We got it from hard work and years of blood and sweat!"
"We're ODST, freak! Best of the best!" another idiot yelled, drawing strength from those who'd spoken before. "Then you lab jobs show up and suddenly everyone forgets that!"
"If you want people to recognize your hard work then show them the results on the battlefield," SPARTAN sixty-nine said, keeping his cool the entire time. "Actions speak louder than words."
Truer words were never spoken.
Talk was cheap and the ones that did it the most often didn't have anything worth commenting about when the real fighting began. If the spotlight of human civilization had shifted to the SPARTANs then trash talking was the wrong way to change things. You changed it by training harder and fighting smarter.
"Yeah? Sounds like a plan to me!" the first of Fuller's backup said, moving forward, his intentions clearly written on his face.
That was his cue.
"Is there a problem here, men?" he asked professionally yet sounding like he was ignorant of the specifics of the conversation.
Best to give the men a chance to pull their heads out of their butts.
Looking at Fuller and then the idiot who'd been ready to throw a punch at someone wearing full armor designed to take live fire with barely a scratch, he could tell that they were rethinking their plans. Good. It meant that their respect for him or their fear of what he could do to them was strong enough to make pissing him off sound unappetizing. Now to break things up before they decided to pull something the second he left the mess hall.
"No, sir. No problem," Fuller replied professionally and with respect.
"Glad to hear it. Now sit back down and enjoy the grub," he 'suggested', looking each ODST in the eye. "Once we get to the colony I doubt we're going to get anything quite as good for a long time."
It was the truth.
The world the mining colony was on didn't have the right environment for growing anything and, even with slip space, freshness was almost unheard of. Everything labeled 'food' was prepared and packaged specifically to be long lasting as well as possessing the necessary nutrients to sustain a human being.
Didn't mean it tasted very good, though.
They'd been lucky that the Burlington had been taken on some real food when it'd resupplied at the last garden world but it wouldn't last. Add to that the apparent secrecy of the mission and he doubted that the captain would be permitted to make a grocery run whenever he wanted. They'd have to make do with the 'advanced' stuff and hope they got replaced by another team before they actually started to LIKE the freeze dried stuff.
It had the alias 'meals reject by the enemy' for a reason.
The World Where Mining Colony BXR-695
Three Kilometers Beneath the Surface
{Slip space rupture detected.}
[Show me.]
It had only been a short while since she'd been woken up but in that time she'd discovered that a great deal of time had passed since she'd gone into stasis.
Much more time than she'd originally planned and careful examination of the relevant systems revealed that the mechanism that would've triggered the end of her stasis had been incorrectly repaired. She remembered sighing in exasperation at this but had shoved the problem aside in favor of the development that'd required her personal attention. The programs that had survived the crash landing had done an admirable job repairing systems using the various minable resources the planet had to offer but it was when an outside source had subjected the hull to intense sound waves that things changed. Naturally, as per the programmed response, drones were sent to investigate the anomaly and determine whether or not it posed a threat to the ship.
What the drones had found had both intrigued her when she'd reviewed the scans and troubled her for various reasons.
Humans.
Not like the ones that she remembered working alongside so very long ago but smaller and decidedly more primitive, if the projectile weapon was anything to go by. The humans she remembered working with had already mastered directed energy weapons, with any projectile weapons they'd once used being reduced to museum pieces or decorations in their homes.
What had troubled her, though, was that even though the projectile weapon had done no damage to the drone, it had responded with lethal force, sparking a slaughter of all but two humans, who had fled at the first sign of trouble. As soon as she'd read this part of the reports generated by the programs she'd ordered the bodies of those slain retrieved for examination. It was revealed, horribly, that the prophesied punishment that many had believed the Ecumene Council would pass down on humanity after their defeat had been carried out.
Devolution.
A reduction in evolutionary development to a level barely above the non-sentient animals raised as livestock or pets.
This brought great sadness to her, for how could she feel otherwise given that she'd seen all too clearly the heights to which the species had previously risen to and how they could've gone further if not for two foes set against them. With the corpses too badly damaged for her to even consider restoring, she chose instead to place them in preservation capsules to be returned to their people once a suitable opportunity presented itself.
It was the least she could do.
After that she'd taken a much more direct hand in the ship's activities, ranging from prioritizing systems that would aid in the leaving of this system as well as gathering information on all that had changed since she'd gone into stasis. What she'd discovered about the human race did not exactly please her but it did show that they were on the path to reclaiming what had been taken from them by the Forerunners and the Flood so very long ago.
However it was when she used the primitive computers to access a much larger network that she wondered if the ascending race she once knew would even get that chance. An alliance of races calling itself The Covenant had declared genocidal war upon humanity, attacking any inhabited world they encountered and doing all they could to exterminate the humans living there. Indeed, in most cases these allied races, races she was able to identify from the ship's database, even went so far as to use their crudely repurposed Forerunner technologies to glass the surfaces of these planets.
While she did not have detailed access, only pictures, really, of the current human warships and military technology, if all was on the same level as the projectile weapon they could not win. Given the inherent stubbornness in the race, she had little doubt that they would fight bravely, nonetheless, to the bitter end, but defeat was a foregone conclusion. Without advanced battle skins and directed energy weapons or, more importantly, ship-mounted energy weapons, it would only be a matter of time before they were terminated.
It was this information more than anything else that had her make the ship's extraction from the planet's surface and space worthiness restored a top priority among the various programs. Scenario after scenario had made it clear that it would only be through her intervention that humanity stood a chance of defeating the Covenant, or at the very least ensuring that some survived to start again.
[Time to gather some information] she thought, waiting for the opportunity she needed.
She didn't have long to wait since, just as she predicted, the humans still present in the primitive mining facility opened a communication channel with the arriving vessel. However she didn't plan on just listening in on the conversation but rather she intended to use the connection to infiltrate the ship's systems, using the human's signal as background noise. She would have to be careful since the security aboard a warship would be stronger than the mining facility, but so long as she didn't go anywhere too sensitive her infiltration should be unnoticeable.
Going to work, she utilized the connection she'd previously forged to the mining facility's network and from there followed the thread that now bound it to the warship settling into orbit. Upon reaching the other end she found she was right, that the security was higher because not only was there a firewall but there were also telltale signs of an artificial intelligence operating on the other side. However this only meant that she would have to utilize distractions that could lead the artificial intelligence away but not be recognized as anything worthy of concern.
Bringing up six such programs she teased them into the system and, once she saw the intelligent runtimes move away, she made her move to enter into the system.
Moving quickly she made her way to the bridge, since that would be where the most valuable pieces of information could be found. Little by little she flowed along with the currents of information, going this way and that obeying the commands of the humans dwelling within the ship. When she finally arrived she tapped into the visual recording devices present along with the audio recording devices.
After that it was just a manner of being attentive and knowing who to focus on.
"Have there been any developments since the initial incident?" asked a man sitting before a large display screen.
"No, but then we haven't sent anyone down there either," the leader of the humans in the mining facility replied with masked anxiety. "After what happened, the only reason we didn't leave with the others was because the company threatened to fire us if we did. Even then, we almost went anyway."
"Understandable. However I promise you that your people won't be placed in any unnecessary danger," the man dressed in a white uniform with various decorations of importance promised. "Once the group we send down is settled and hooked up to your network, you'll be free to come up to the Burlington until the transport arrives to take you home."
"Thank you, Captain Hood," the lead miner said with relieved gratitude. "Whatever help your people need, mine'll do their best to provide."
"That would be much appreciated," Captain Hood said before moving the conversation along. "We'll be sending the ODST teams and SPARTANs down first to give the place a once over. Once we're sure it's safe, the science team will follow down with their equipment and begin setting up one level above where the incident occurred. Close enough to get readings but far enough away to be safe."
"We'll be waiting," the lead miner said professionally.
Knowing that her time was seconds away from ending she tapped into the ship's database and ran a search on two topics: ODST and SPARTANs.
If they represented the potential hostiles she would be dealing with for the foreseeable future then she needed to know as much as she could. She waited for as long as she dared before withdrawing back along her conduit to the ship and back into her own systems. Expanding the files she'd copied from the human vessel, she looked at the forces that the humans would be sending to act as security. The ODSTs, she learned, were considered to be the best soldiers in the organization known as the UNSC, however based on the files she was reading they were leagues below the standard she was used to. From what she could read they'd received no special enhancements biologically and their equipment did little to protect them or enhance their performance. Apparently this UNSC relied more on the minds of their ODST soldiers rather than maximizing the prowess of their bodies.
She would see if their mental training was truly enough to compensate for their shortcomings physically.
Moving onto the files focused on the SPARTANs, she found warriors more akin to what she'd been hoping to find with the first. While not possessing as long a history as the ODST, they had in their own way distinguished themselves in recent years as soldiers above and beyond the rank and file. However when she tried to find some inkling of their training or what enhancements they might possess, she could find not even a single sentence. While it was true that she hadn't had much time in their systems, the scarcity of this sort of information when there was much to be had on the ODSTs implied much. Either the UNSC was worried about the enhancement processes being stolen by unfriendly parties or they were controversial enough to potentially do more harm than good.
The one good thing she was able to learn was that they were better equipped than the ODSTs were, with each member wearing a powered exosuit of armor. In this single piece of technology the humans looked to have done all they could to make the SPARTANs the best they could be. Based on what she could determine from the visual stills and the two video recordings she'd managed to copy before leaving the human ship, the movements the SPARTANs were capable of went beyond what ordinary muscle and tissue could do. Her databases on humanoid muscle proportions and nerve conductivity made it clear where the limits would be on humanoids matching a SPARTAN's proportions. To do what she was seeing, the armor had to be responsible for the deviation she was seeing between the contents of the video recordings and her medical files.
[Interesting. Perhaps there would be some benefit in testing these SPARTANs firsthand] she thought as a plan began to form in her mind. [If I am to come to the aid of humanity and save them from the Covenant, then I must know how much help I must provide.]
To do that she needed to see just how far she could push their best soldiers before they tasted defeat.
The tests needed to be carefully conceived, though, to get the results she needed without accidentally making an enemy of the people she sought to help. Until she was confident that all was ready she would merely watch the humans go about their business, gathering what useful data she could. She'd make sure that the drones from this point forward would only employ non-lethal measures to counter any unwanted actions against her or the ship.
Based on what she saw, though, she did not believe she had anything to worry about. Their technology was not advanced enough to gain entry to the ship unless she chose to permit it and neither could they wirelessly gain access to her network.
She would be in control every step of the way.