CHAPTER 01

0433 HOURS, 17 JANUARY 2546 (UNSC MILITARY CALENDAR)

ONI SITE SIERRA-22, CODENAME 'ZIGGURAT', PLANET HARVEST, EPSILON INDI SYSTEM

David-294 put on the helmet that completed his MJOLNIR Mk. IV IC-variant armor and sealed the system. If a ship were to vent its atmosphere, he'd be safe- until the thirty minutes' air supply in his suit ran out, anyway. Air scrubbers could only do so much.

For the past six months, he and his team had been training with this armor- learning it, piece by piece, tactic by tactic. In an unprecedented move for any Spartan program, the customization of the suits by the Spartans themselves was actually permitted, allowing the Spartans to truly specialize in their team according to their role in the squad- and of course, according to personal taste. David was his team's close-quarters combat specialist, and his armor reflected that. His helmet was reinforced in several key areas to reduce vulnerability to head trauma, and the visor was not the usual wide visor on the MJOLNIR helmets, but more T-shaped, providing more protection to the sides of his face and only exposing his eyes, nose and mouth. The MJOLNIR's heavy plates did not cover his shoulders or knees- only the titanium bodysuit and underlying skinsuit protected these. This allowed for increased mobility in a close quarters fight, at the cost of a little protection.

He looked at the inside of the armory through his visor, gazing at the five other MJOLNIR suits in this particular room. The IC-variant was different from the original Mk. IV in that it was lighter and didn't offer such great protection- the thickness of the titanium in the outer plating had been reduced greatly, the result being that while still effective against ballistic weapons, the armor would not be able to take repeated hits with plasma. The motion-assisting circuits present in the original were present in a much-diluted form here, being utilized only to the extent so that the armor would not impede the wearer. The Class II SPARTAN-IIs would never be able to run as fast, jump as high, or hit as hard as their SPARTAN-II predecessors, but they still packed a mean punch. Some consolation that was. David wondered, had wondered for years now, just how well he and his comrades would stack up against the best of the best; it was a bitter pill to swallow knowing that it was their armor, the part of them that was least ingrained into their psyche, that separated Class-I from Class-II.

Perhaps the only two advantages the IC-variant armor had over the primary model were weight and power usage- between the hardware that was now absent and the reduced titanium usage, the MJOLNIR Mk. IV Irregular Combat-variant Powered Assault armor weighed a scant two hundred fifty kilograms- one half the weight of the regular Mk. IV. And with the simpler and lighter suit came reduced power usage- the fusion pods present in David's armor were a mere two-thirds of the size and had roughly half the output of the fusion pods present in the armor that John-117, the highest-ranking Spartan in the UNSC, wore.

David sighed heavily and walked out of the room, hearing the door hiss shut behind him. He entered another room, this one just as important as the one he had just departed. He picked up an M90 shotgun and several dozen shells from a weapons rack and smiled- much better, he thought. No self-respecting CQB specialist could afford to not know how to use a shotgun, in his opinion. What was more, the M90s available to the Class-II Spartans were made with CQB in mind- ammo shortages and all. The butt of the weapon had a reinforced titanium brace, which was good for cracking the odd rock during training missions in the endless snowstorm which was outdoors on Harvest. David knew, though, that it might be necessary for it to break far less durable- and far more organic- things. And he couldn't wait. Throughout the seven years he and the two hundred eighty-nine other Class-II trainees had been training, they had received news about the state of the war from the crews of the supply ships that came to the base ever now and then, and they'd heard it all. Coral. Paris IV. Ballast. Jericho VII. They'd heard the news- billions dead, entire planets charred to barren globes of cracked crystal and rock, and the Covenant never seemed to stop for so much as a breath before moving onto the next human-occupied system. A little payback wouldn't hurt- not for him, anyway.

David slapped the shotgun onto a magnetic panel on his armor, crossed the room and pulled an MA5B assault rifle off a stand, along with several magazines. Despite the fact that he slapped the clip into the rifle with greater-than-human strength, causing vibrations through the gun that would rattle anyone else's bones, the sound was comforting to him- he felt somewhat more complete knowing he was fully armed. According to his studies under their AI instructor, Déjà, all Spartans had received such intensive training that they actually felt at a loss for something to do without a weapon to fire and an enemy to fire at. While Déjà had told them all that it would be unavoidable in any Spartan, the reason behind the lesson had been to alert the Class-II Spartans to this, so that they could consciously focus- restlessness and tension would only impede their judgment. Another component of Déjà's lessons to David and his generation had been to accept that sometimes they would simply have to wait, that Spartans would play their role in every battle, but they could not fill every role.

Despite his awareness of this, David still felt on edge every time he put his rifle and shotgun aside, as if something might strike just when he was least prepared. He honestly wondered whether it had been wise for Déjà to tell him and his fellow Spartans all this.

He double-checked all his armor's subsystems on his heads-up display, not wanting his armor to malfunction before he even saw heavy combat- a skilled soldier could who could defeat any opponent only needed to have something go wrong once before saying his prayers and lining his grave. Apparently, a Spartan, Samuel-034, had died on the first major anti-Covenant operation of the entire SPARTAN-II program because a shot from a Jackal's weapon punctured his MJOLNIR armor. Unable to exfiltrate the Covenant ship he and his team had been sent to destroy, he had been killed by the explosives his fellow Spartans had set.

A tap on the shoulder shook him from his thoughts. He turned to the sight of Sierra-336, the leader of Team Scavenger, and often the butt of jokes about her Spartan designation. Sierra's armor differed from his own, as per the customizations each Spartan had given their suit. Her armor was less angular than his, and the accompanying helmet featured a visor that was little more than a diamond-shaped horizontal slit, which was ironic when one considered that the helmet's optics systems was adapted for reconnaissance missions. Each armor plate was smaller than its counterpart on the standard armor, both to increase mobility at the joints and to decrease the suit's weight, however slightly.

"Hey, Two. You okay?"

David nodded, and then opened a nearby door to the great outdoors. Then again, he thought, it wasn't so great any more considering that he had looked outside to see nothing but ice and cracked rock for over seven years. He stepped outside, and despite the fact that the external temperature was a chilling negative twenty degrees Celsius, his suit's environmental controls ensured that his armor cooled almost insignificantly. He stepped out into Harvest's eternal winter, and Sierra followed, stepping up to his side.

"Hey- are you all right? You're awful quiet."

David shrugged. "It's- I guess it's just- weird. I mean- we're not coming back here. This'll be the last time we see it."

He could picture the grin on Sierra's face behind her visor as she said, "I know- it's great. Finally, I can wake up in the morning and not see snow. If I have so much as one more snowball tossed at me…" She let it hang at that.

David cleared his throat- it rarely saw much use. "So where are the others?"

"Three is cleaning the Shadow, of course… Four is sparring with Five, Five's probably given Four a black eye by now, and…" she tailed off, which made David more than a little nervous. They all knew the members of their own teams better than the backs of their own hands- that Sierra did not know where Hayden-401 was worried David. Then again, though…

At that moment, though, there was the shrill noise of a vehicle's engine, and out of nowhere, the silhouetted profile of an M274 Ultra-Light All-Terrain Vehicle, more commonly called a Mongoose, shot through the falling snow which always seemed to veil the background. Seated atop the two-man craft was another figure in MJOLNIR armor, which gave David and Sierra a nod before dismounting, causing the Mongoose to creak ominously.

"Six," said Sierra sternly, "where the hell have you been?"

"I was off talking to my Grunt buddies, how about you?" When Sierra did not respond- or even so much as move- Hayden started again. "I was killing time, that's all." He turned to David, but David could tell from his tone that Sierra was still the object of his words.

"But apparently, I didn't kill enough time. What's this? You're cheating on me now?"

That did it.

"Just because I happen to be next to him when you're off doing who-knows-what does NOT mean I'm getting together with him! And just because I have to yell at you every time you disappear does not mean WE are a couple!"

And with that, she turned around and stormed back into the Ziggurat, her footfalls making ominous thuds against the metal floors. After several moments, Hayden shook his head.

"Really something, isn't she? Can't believe she was made team leader."

David cocked an eyebrow and looked Hayden full in the visor. Hayden was unusual for a Spartan- he did not show the emotional restraint typical of most Spartans, and showed an almost total disregard for rules. Strangely, that same disregard made him an inexplicably effective soldier- he was so unpredictable, he would not attempt anything that would elicit a recognizable counter, leaving his opponent at a loss to fight back against him, whether during sparring or during outdoor training sessions.

"David? You okay in there?" Hayden said, knocking on his faceplate to accentuate the point. Slightly annoyed now, David batted his teammate's hand away. "Look," he said, "we'll leave Harvest soon- can't you lay off her for a few hours?"

"My, aren't we getting protective?"

"Shut up. Besides- we can't let you out of our sight now. Déjà's got a final exercise for us, remember? Top honors and all that."

Hayden actually laughed. "Yeah- like that means anything. Either way, we still blow shit up, crack alien skulls. See what I mean? Doesn't matter."

David, in spite of Hayden, managed to crack a smile. "Don't tell me you'd pass up a chance to rub something in Ed's face."

"Forgot about that… all right then. I'll stick with you- for now." That was probably was as good as it was ever going to with Hayden.

At that moment, though, Sierra barked through SQUADCOM. "Team- briefing room. Five minutes. Have all gear ready." The channel then went dead.

Hayden scoffed. "Five minutes. That means we should have arrived while she was talking… come on, Tango Delta Sierra, we gotta go."

As they walked, David picked up the pace, drawing level with Hayden. "Tango Delta Sierra?" he asked.

"Tall, dark and silent, David. Man, what does Déjà teach you guys?"

"More than she teaches you…" David muttered under his breath.

They entered the Ziggurat's briefing room four minutes later, gaining the immediate attention of everyone in the room. Not only were the other four members of Fire Team Scavenger present, but so was a uniformed Navy officer and, to David's chagrin, Team Scavenger's rivals for top honors among the Class-II Spartans were also there. None of the other forty-six teams in Class-II could compete with them, and as much as David hated to admit it, Team Reaper deserved their spot at number one.

The Navy officer glanced down at an old-fashioned analog stop-clock, complete with chain. "Fifteen seconds early. Impressive, Three-Three-Six- even the latest of your team is on time."

Edward-160 coughed- David was sure he caught a hastily disguised "Sure!" in it.

The captain continued. "I realize that your instructor had an exercise planned for you, but a pressing matter has arisen, and your top-honors competition has been postponed indefinitely. The war needs Spartans, and it needs them now." He pocketed his watch just as a three-dimensional display of the surrounding sector popped into view above the round holographic projector located in the center of the room.

"205 Zeta Indi is a tiny star- the radiation and light signatures from it are regularly confused with Epsilon Indi, which is why we never really paid attention to it… until now, anyway."

The blue-tinged image of the cluster of stars comprising the sector around Epsilon Indi zoomed until one of the smaller stars, which David assumed to be 205 Zeta Indi, took up the majority of the space in the center of the room. A large number of small, dark-colored objects orbited the star.

"The star itself attracts no planetoids of any mentionable size; however, the asteroid belt here is rich in several rare elements that the Covenant uses in antigravity devices for its vehicles. Tracers placed on several Covenant ships have narrowed their location down to two asteroids in this entire system- they're the only ones with a large enough gravitational field and surface area to sustain mining operations."

"So you want one team to take out each asteroid," Sierra reasoned.

"No. The smaller of these asteroids has an unstable orbit- we theorize that its orbital decay will become exponential within several weeks, upon which point the surface will become simply too hot for mining ops. After a few more weeks, it will crash into the sun. Gravity is going to do our work for us on that one. The larger one, however…" the display zoomed in again until the image of a roughly potato-shaped rock loomed large enough for David to make out the individual buildings that likely comprised the Covenant mining complex.

"This asteroid has ninety-seven percent stability in its orbit, with a variation of only a few dozen kilometers between its perihelion and aphelion. In other words, it moves like clockwork. Therefore, we can safely insert you close to the complex without you having to march very far, and that means the complex can be destroyed that much faster. The reason we need two teams-" the view shrunk this time, but only slightly, "- is this."

A small green blip appeared and started moving slowly around the asteroid.

"We've picked up signals from a Covenant destroyer in orbit above the facility. As far as we can tell, that's the only defensive measure the Covenant has in place- obviously they thought this would remain undetected. We have to make sure that the operation is taken out before they decide to increase protection around it for whatever reason, so we'll be hitting them hard and fast, and more importantly, we'll be hitting them now."

Two smaller white blips appeared, one with a minuscule 'S' next to it, and the other with a tiny 'R'.

"Now here's the plan of attack- the UNSC Fleet of Foot will jump in-system, and deploy Team Scavenger in EVA Booster Frames and T-Packs to board and take out the Covenant ship. The ground op will begin only when the destroyer is neutralized."

The white spot with the attached 'S' moved over the larger green blip, which disappeared.

"Team Reaper will them move down to the surface and take out their communications so they can't call for additional ship reinforcements." As the captain said this, the blip labeled with the 'R' moved over to a point on the surface of the asteroid, which was then marked with a large 'X'.

"Team Scavenger will then make their way down to the surface. There are two targets for you to neutralize- the mines, where the metal is extracted- and the refinery, where they process the products from the mines. Each team will place a FENRIS nuclear warhead at one of the sites and start the countdown timer. Fleet of Foot will then pick you up, and when you jump out-system, everything goes boom." The images on the 3D display dissolved, and the blue illumination the projector cast faded.

The Navy captain straightened and cleared his throat. "Any questions, Spartans?"

Sierra shook her head, and so did Edward, who led Team Reaper.

"Good. I want you ready to go in ten minutes- the rest of your comrades will be jumping out-system with the UNSC Nautilus. They're needed on Midas V. You twelve, however, will be taking a Pelican onto the Fleet of Foot. Dismissed."

Each of the Spartans acknowledged this last order, and immediately the room's occupants gathered in two clusters- the six members of Team Scavenger in one group, and the six Spartans of Reaper Team in the other. David glanced at those around him.

Jacob-257- Scavenger Three- stood at ease with his sniper rifle, with which he'd taken the liberty of painting jet black. He'd even named the weapon. Shadow of Night, he'd called it- fitting given its color, in David's opinion. With the exception of a flip-down optics unit above the visor on his helmet and the letters 'UNSC' painted in bright red on his left shoulder piece, Jacob's armor was completely standard.

Logan-196 leaned against the wall, taking the whole scene in. He was easily the physical dwarf of Team Scavenger at just under one hundred seventy centimeters in full MJOLNIR armor, but he made up for that with speed, which he had in abundance. Ever on the move, Scavenger Four co-occupied the position of close-quarters specialist with David himself, but favored the M7 submachine gun over the shotgun. Logan's armor was unusual in that multiple reinforced sheaths were incorporated into his front armguards, and these were never empty. Logan always wore his armor complete with no fewer than eight combat knives, which he was hardly inept at using.

Scavenger Five, also known as Celia-441, was the team's demolitions expert, but no slouch in close quarters either. Logan and Celia often sparred, Logan's speed and multiple pinpoint attacks being more often than not offset by Celia's timing and strength, and such sparring sessions would often end with her landing a single punch which would floor her squad mate. However, Celia preferred the use of an M19 SSM 'Jackhammer' missile launcher, and loved nothing more than hearing a big 'boom'. Her armor was slightly bulkier than that of all the others, with heavier plating and additional sections in various areas, giving her a slightly more menacing look considering that she topped out at almost exactly two meters tall, leaving her free to glance down at the rest of the team- and tower over the technical staff on the base.

Along with Hayden, Sierra and himself, these three Spartans comprised Team Scavenger. They constantly heckled, teased, and fought with each other, much to Sierra's vexation, but David would not have picked anyone else to fight or train with.

Sierra looked around at all of them, let out a small sigh, and spoke. "All right guys. We'll have gear and weapons on the ship, so no need to lug stuff around. Let's get moving." After a small pause, she added, almost as an afterthought, "Guys, I wanna say… well- I just- I'm really proud of- of us. Of you guys. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect team."

David could imagine the look on Hayden's face on the inside of his helmet, but kept the thought to himself. Scavenger made to leave the room, but they heard a voice call out- to one of them.

"Hey- Sierra!"

They all stopped in their tracks and turned to see who had called. Team Reaper- Edward-160, Joan-171, Saul-208, Ignatio-300, Laura-343 and Victor-404- stood opposite them, almost completely unmoving. Reaper and Scavenger had nurtured a rivalry for several years now, and it had only intensified when the MJOLNIR training phase began. David did not expect wishes of goodwill.

Edward nodded once, and said, "Good hunting." Unsure of what to do, David looked to Sierra, who called back, "You too." Scavenger then left the room.

A little less than half an hour later, David, along with the rest of Scavenger and Reaper, out of a sealed airlock chamber onto the UNSC Fleet of Foot. The room they were standing in was small to say the least- there was room for perhaps one Pelican here, two if they did not have to take off or land while on the ship. But Pelicans did not occupy the room they stood in.

Supported by suspension frames were six strangely-shaped vehicles. The seats and control area resembled that of a fighter, but without the enclosed cockpit- the pilot would need a pressure suit to fly this vehicle. Several large-nozzle thrusters extended out the back, and a stocky 'wing' protruded from each side. Two rotary repeating guns, similar in design to the M41 Light Anti-Aircraft Gun on Warthogs, were positioned at the base of each 'wing'. Most impressive, though, was a three-meter long single barreled gun running underneath the craft with multiple coils bracing it- a Gauss cannon, the miniaturized version of the ship-mounted Magnetic Accelerator Cannon, or MAC as it was called.

"I see you've spotted your insertion method," a voice from behind them called. Five of Scavenger turned to regard the newcomer, who was, as the captain who had briefed them had been, dressed in the uniform of a Navy officer. "Meet the OF-M92 EVA Booster Frame."

"I don't care what you call it," Hayden said, still looking at the six vehicles, "I think I'm in love."