" Looks to me like you did all the attacking," the Sergeant said jokingly. Simmons dropped the ODST and pointed the gun at the Sergeant.
"Answer my question, soldier," Simmons said
" It just our way of saying hello," the Sergeant said jokingly, a crowd had gathered behind him.
" Let me show you mine," Simmons said, he dropped the pistol and punched the sergeant hard. He flew back into the arms of a private. " And you don't want to see how I say goodbye," Simmons told him, this time cracking a smile.
Simmons walked back to his quarters and got out his data pad; there was a message on it.
UNSC Transmission 23445D-65
Encryption Code: Green
Public Key: File /excised access Charlie
From: Colonel Hastert, CO Camp Ulysses
To: First Lieutenant Matthew Simmons
Subject: First Mission
Start file/
Lieutenant you first mission will take place tomorrow at
0300 hours. You will be briefed at 0100 Hours in
Briefing Room 1
/End file/
0300 Hours, January 16, (Military Calendar)
Richter System, Planet Richter VII, Outskirts Of Camp
Ulysses
Simmons dropped one more clip of ammunition for his MA5B Assault Rifle into his backpack before slipping it on. Then he got in the passenger seat of his Warthog and inspected his rifle. Most of the men seemed unhappy that they were not dropping in HEV pods, Simmons didn't know why; they were unsafe and apparently very uncomfortable. Lance Corporal O'Donnell jumped into the driver's seat, and Private Hanks got into the gunner's position. Simmons put on his helmet and his HUD flickered to life. He had a motion tracker, an ammunition counter and five acknowledgment lights, one for every squad leader and his Sergeant.
" Status," Simmons said, and the five lights turned blue, then faded into darkness. Simmons' mission was to ride into a known rebel hideout, capture a rebel operative and bring him back to base. There were ten regular warthogs with three men each, the other twenty men piled into two "pickup" warthogs with extended beds that sat twelve each, these warthogs would carry the prisoner. Simmons watch showed 0301 Hours, and it was time to go. "Let's roll!" he said to O'Donnell, who then put his foot on the accelerator and the convoy followed. Simmons marveled at what a force he had with him, as the dust from the tires flew into a cloud above them and drifted into the morning sky. The chain guns on these vehicles were enough firepower to blanket an area big enough to clear an LZ that would land five Pelicans with ease, which could add over a hundred men to the battle, but Simmons knew that wouldn't be necessary, this mission was a milk run.
They drove for over an hour and the sun was starting to rise. They arrived at the staging area one mile from the rebel campsite. Simmons opened a COM channel to his squad leaders. "All right, its show time, Blue team are you in position?" he asked, the first light winked. " Green team?" another light flicked on "Red team?" the third and fourth lights blinked blue. "Then that just leaves us O'Donnell, are we in position?"
" Yes, Sir, we are," O'Donnell told him. Simmons clicked his COM three times; the signal to start, and twelve engines revved and the convoy drove down the hill towards the small campsite. As they got close Simmons saw a man running for a Jackhammer Rocket Launcher. Hanks thumbed the Chain gun's trigger and the man was stopped in his tracks by a hail of bullets. Simmons had never seen a man killed before, but he expected it to bother him, this didn't at all, which surprised him. When they reached the camp Simmons jumped out as O'Donnell turned to circle the base. He thumbed the safety off and fingered the trigger. He turned to see a man picking up the Jackhammer, Simmons pulled the trigger and three bullets tore through the man's chest, Simmons' first kill. He was again not affected. He scanned the site, the Warthogs had created a perimeter and the pinned down rebels were stuck inside it. Simmons looked for the rebel leader they were after; he had picked up and out dated M4B rifle and was aiming at O'Donnell. Simmons was forced to shoot, so he quickly pulled the trigger. A single bullet escaped the barrel and hurtled toward the man. It impacted in his shoulder and he dropped the rifle screaming in pain. Simmons ran toward him through the crossfire, leapt over a body and landed at the man's feet, then pulled him up and turned him around. The man let out another scream as Simmons handcuffed him. Two men ran over to him. Their Friend or Foe tags on Simmons' HUD identified them as Private Brock and Corporal Grange. They dragged the rebel to their pickup Warthog and threw him in. Simmons clicked his COM three times again, the signal to get out of there. O'Donnell drove towards him and Simmons jumped in.
Simmons felt strange during the drive back. Not because he was affected by the battle, but rather because he wasn't, combat was supposed to change a man, why hadn't he felt any remorse or adrenaline rush. Then he remembered the Spartan program, he had been through too much already to be affected by this. Shrugging this off he opened a COM channel to Sergeant Dominique. " Wounded count, Sergeant," he said
" Absolutely zero, except for the bite I received from our prisoner," he chuckled, " it was a perfect mission, Sir," the Sergeant told him. A perfect mission? What about the rebel casualties, weren't they men all the same, why were they doomed to die? Simmons decided to leave that one to the philosophers and congratulate himself, instead. He turned to O'Donnell as they got back and smiled, O'Donnell smiled as well, Simmons felt much more satisfied.