Yo everybody! Sorry this chapter took longer than it did but I was very busy over the weekend and didn't get much of a chance to work on it. But now it's done and ready for your enjoyment.
Also, I'd like to point out one thing. While McKay is a First Lieutenant of the Marines and Lucas is a Lieutenant of the Navy, Lucas is actually one rank higher than her. If he was in the Marines with the same rank, he'd be a Captain.
Chapter Two: Running Wild
Lucas B312 carefully crept up the winding ramp towards the top of the Covenant-controlled bluff that Major Silva and the AI Wellsley had designated Alpha Base as the system's sun rose over the horizon. Atop the bluff in question was number of structures that did not match with known Covenant structures. That being said, there was a sizable Covenant presence on cliff base, Grunts manning Shade turrets, Jackal patrol teams and the occasional Elite warrior wandering around the structures.
A sizable defense but not one that they couldn't overcome.
Personally, he had wanted to infiltrate the base alone and sabotage the defenses before the main attack. However the Major instead wanted him to be a part of First Lieutenant Melissa McKay's assault team as they launched the first strike against the base. Their target was the base's anti-air defenses. Once they were out, the Pelicans that had made it off the Autumn and rendezvous with them since landing on the ring, would drop in reinforcements to finish off the rest of the Covenant forces.
As they reached the last corner of the ramp, Lucas's hand shot up, stopping the group. Slowly, he peered around the corner, looking up at the end of the last ramp. Two lazy Grunts were sleeping at the entrance rather than guarding the passage.
Through hand signs, Lucas relayed what he saw to McKay and that he was going to take them out. Silently, the Spartan moved up the ramp, drawing his knife. He reached out and grabbed the first Grunt, driving the blade across its throat as he pulled it back. While the dying Grunt rolled down the ramp, Lucas did the same to the other.
With both aliens dead, Lucas pulled up his M6D Magnum, using its scope to study his surroundings. After a moment, he lowered his sidearm, placing it back on his hip before drawing his assault rifle. "Lieutenant, keep your squad back until back until I tell you to attack," he said to the First Lieutenant.
McKay started to protest but the Spartan was already gone, moving into the base.
Lucas slowly peered over a half-wall, looking out at the Covenant positions. It reminded him of an Insurrectionist base on Taurus IV. He had been sent in to take out the base's anti-air batteries, communications and sensors before capturing and extracting the rebel leader, ultimately paving the way for an assault force to mop up afterwards.
However, there were some significant differences between the two. The Insurrectionist base had been a UNSC base and its layout had been arranged logically as a military base. But this base had been something else before the Covenant arrived there. At the center of the base was a large square building surrounded by smaller structures of various shapes and sizes with bridges and catwalks connecting between some of them.
According to Wellsley, the Covenant had a total of fourteen turrets set up for air defense. Four were on the roof of the central structure while five were spread out among the roofs of the eastern buildings and five on the western ones. Added to this were heavy weapon Grunts armed with Fuel Rod Guns patrolling along the catwalks.
What he did at Taurus IV wouldn't work here. But another plan had already formed in his mind. The Spartan looked up at a nearby tower that was taller than most of the other structures.
A green Grunt Heavy that should have been standing guard on one of the catwalks of the tower was curled up in a ball, sleeping next to its weapon. A hand suddenly reached out, grabbing its face. Its eyes shot open as Lucas drove his knife into the Grunt's neck. The alien gurgled as it died. He let go of the Grunt and picked up its Fuel Rod Gun. Hefting the weapon up, he took aim at the nearest Shade turret. He fired a shot, pivoting to the next turret as the projectile flew. With incredible precision, the Spartan empted the weapon into five turrets along with the Grunts operating them and a few other Grunts and Jackals that were too close.
The remaining aliens on the ground immediately spun around and started firing their weapons up at the tower. Lucas dropped to his knees, shielding himself from the plasma bolt and needler rounds. However, the Covenant soldiers some of the bridges and structures had a much better angle to shoot at him, forcing him to inch back into the structure.
"Wort, wort wort!" he heard the unmistakable voice of an Elite shout from below.
An Elite Minor was leading a cohort of Grunts and Jackals up the ramps of the tower to his position. But the ramps were narrow and confined which worked in his favor. He fired off bursts of his assault rifle, mowing down several of the Grunts as they rounded the last corner to reach him.
But their leader was smart, pulling back the rest. Two Jackals, shoulder to shoulder, their shield linked together as they advanced, protecting the rest of their unit. Lucas continued to fire but was unable to get through the shields.
Two Grunts pulled out plasma grenades and threw them at the Spartan. He dropped to his belly, the grenades sailing over him by inches. They exploded several feet from him on the catwalk, draining a bit of his shields in the process.
Lucas reached for his belt. "Here's a little gift you!" he shouted, rolling a frag grenade down the ramp.
The Jackals and Grunts let out startled gasps and shouts. They panicked and tried to run back, only to bump into those behind them and become tangled up. The grenade exploded, obliterating the lead Jackals and a Grunt behind them. Those standing further away were hit with shrapnel and thrown back from the force of the blast.
Only the bloody Elite Minor rose to its feet after the blast. The Elite roared, firing its Plasma Rifle and a Plasma Pistol that it had picked up. Lucas grabbed his rifle, firing as he rose to his knees. The Spartan emptied what was left of his clip while his shields were completely depleted by the Minor's fire. But as the ammo counter reached zero, the Elite collapsed.
Lucas reloaded his rifle, waiting as his shield recharged. If there was a single positive difference between here and Taurus IV, it was that he had his armor. The mission on Taurus required him to operate undercover without armor and by the end, he had acquired more than a few wounds. Of course, back then the only armor he used was SPI Armor which paled in comparison to MJOLNIR.
"Lieutenant McKay, I've taken out the eastern turrets," he said over their team frequency. "Moving on to the western turrets. Proceed with mopping up actions at your discretion."
"With respect sir, the Major ordered you to assist my team in taking out the anti-air turrets. Not go off and single-handedly take on the entire base," McKay protested.
"I work better alone Lieutenant," Lucas replied, cutting the comms.
It wasn't quite true. But everyone he ever considered a teammate was dead.
"Lieutenant. Lieutenant. Please respond," Melissa McKay hissed, trying to raise the Spartan. Getting no response, she silently cursed before turning to her team. "You heard the man, let's finish these bastards off."
She and her troopers rose up to their feet, moving away from their hiding spot and into the base. Much of the Covenant forces in base were in complete disarray, frantically searching for the Spartan as the sounds of periodic explosions filled the air. But there were also more than a few Grunts without Elites nearby that were running around in terror or blindly firing their weapons at anything that moved. Plenty of easy targets for the Helljumpers.
"What the hell are you waiting for troopers? An engraved invitation?" Company Sergeant Tink Carter shouted, firing his assault rifle at the nearest aliens.
An orange clad Grunt shrieked just before bullets tore through its body. It collapsed to the ground, joined by half a dozen more of its kind. But the noise had drawn other Covenant warriors to their position. An Elite Major along with some Minors, Jackals and Grunts approached the drop troopers, the bolts of their energy weapons flying.
The ODSTs dove for cover behind Covenant supply crates and around the corners of walls. However, not all of them were fast enough. Private Walker howled as an overcharged Plasma Pistol bolt horribly scorched his face and upper body. Another ODST, O'Conner, let out a gasp as a number of needler rounds struck her midsection. "Nooooo!" she screamed just before the shards detonated, tearing apart her chest.
Unfortunately, she didn't die instantly. McKay winced as the trooper's bloody form hit the ground. There worse ways to die than by Needler, but only a few.
"Incoming Heavies!" a trooper shouted from behind a supply crate.
Two Grunt Heavies armed with Fuel Rod Guns advanced towards the soldiers. A projectile slammed into a crate, throwing it into the two Helljumpers standing behind it. One of them was knocked clear back while the other became pinned underneath the crate. Before anyone could help the man, a Jackal shot him.
They continued to rain their fire upon the soldiers, forcing most of them to remain behind their cover as Covenant warriors pressed forward.
"Take them down!" McKay ordered, another Fuel Rod projectile hitting the ground near her position.
"I got 'em ma'am," Corporal Miles Stone, one of their snipers replied.
A thundering boom from a SRS99C-S2 AM Sniper Rifle filled the air. The head of one of the Heavies exploded, joined a split-second later by its methane tank. Another boom followed and the other Grunt died. "Yeah! Eat that,gas-suckers!" Stone shouted.
Without the fire of the heavy weapons, the ODSTs were able to continue firing on the advancing Covenant warriors. The combined fire of three troopers tore through a Jackal's shield before hitting it. An Elite Minor was hit in the chest with a sniper round, taking out its shields and allowing two other Helljumpers to finish it off. Four frag grenades flew through the air, landing among the alien soldiers, adding to the body count.
However, the Covenant weren't the only ones dying. A plasma grenade struck a Helljumper on his helmet. The man frantically tried to pull his helmet off but he was too late and the explosion obliterated him. Sergeant Madison cried out in pain, a plasma bolt grazing his right arm. Another trooper was struck in the face by a Jackal's plasma bolt and crumpled to the ground. "Medic! Medic!" Private Jackson screamed, holding the bloody neck of a fallen ODST. "We need a goddamn medic here!"
But for every human soldier that fell, several Covenant warriors died in return.
Soon, only three Elites and few Grunts and Jackals remained. While humans would have withdrawn from the fight and regrouped before suffering such heavy losses, the religious fervor of the Elites prevented them from even considering such an option.
Which ultimately sealed their fate.
As the drop troopers finished off the last of them, the comm came alive. "Lieutenant, this is Sierra B312," the wayward Spartan said. "I've neutralized the western air defenses. There's still plenty of Covenant in this area, but I'm moving onto to the central structure and its defenses."
"Belay that sir," McKay replied. "We need to clear out the Covenant outside the main structure or they'll just attack us from behind as we assault the building."
But there was no response from the Spartan. "Lieutenant? Lieutenant, do you read me?"
The First Lieutenant swore again before contacting her commander. "Major, this is McKay. We've taken out the outer turrets, but there are more Covenant here than initially estimated."
"Understood Lieutenant," Major Silva answered. "I'll send in the first wave of your reinforcements in low beneath the range of the remaining turrets. But take those turrets out on the double Lieutenant. The Covenant have launched a counterattack against our position."
McKay nodded her head out of reflex. "Yes sir. We'll take them out ASAP."
An Elite Major roared, firing two Plasma Rifles at Lucas. As the plasma bolts struck his shields, the Spartan unloaded his M6D and the Needler he had picked up into the alien warrior. Even as its shields dropped and a dozen pink needles embedded themselves in its body, the Elite didn't stop firing. Only when the Needler rounds detonated and it died did it stop.
As the corpse hit the ground, more Elites, led by an Ultra, approached, their weapons blazing. Lucas started backpedaling, emptying his guns, killing two Minors. With both guns empty, Lucas threw them away and drew his assault rifle. Rounds tore into the Elite warriors, taking out some as the rest continued to chase after him. Then the rifle's ammo counter reached zero.
Lucas was out of ammo and only had his knife left.
But only a fool would consider him less dangerous like that.
The Spartan stopped, grabbing the knife before lunging at the nearest Elite, a Major. Holding on to it, he drove the blade into the exposed area of the alien's neck, severing a vital artery. But he didn't let the Elite fall, propping it up as he reached for a plasma grenade from its belt.
The grenade hit the head of a nearby Elite, sticking to its helmet. It howled just before the explosive detonated. Lucas shielded himself from the explosion with the body of the Major but some of the other Elites weren't so lucky. However, the force of the blast knocked the Spartan to the ground, the dead Elite falling on top of him. With a grunt, Lucas pushed the corpse off of him, quickly rising to his feet.
Only the Ultra and two other Elites remained standing. The white clad Ultra roared, activated an Energy Sword. Lucas raised his knife up defensively while the remaining Elite took a few steps back.
The Ultra lunged at him, the blade swinging down on the Spartan. Lucas's left hand shot out, grabbing its forearm, stopping the Elite's attack. For a moment, the two grappled, trying to overpower the other before the Elite's foot slammed into Lucas's chest.
The Spartan hit the metal ground, rolling seconds later as the Ultra tried to stab him. After moving out of the way, Lucas swung his leg, tripping the alien and then flipping on top of it after it landed on the ground. He drove his knife into its jaw between the mandibles and twisted it.
With the Ultra dead, Lucas rose to his feet. The two remaining Elite Minors took a step back as he activated the Ultra's Energy Sword. Both opened fire as he sprinted towards them. The shields of his MJOLNIR armor flashed as they were steadily drained. But as Lucas reached them, he swung the sword in a wide horizontal arc, slicing through their chests.
While the shields of higher ranked Elites could take a hit or two from an Energy Sword, the inferior armor systems of the Minors were unable to. The aliens let out a wet gurgle, blood pouring out of their mouths. Both collapsed into a bloody heap.
However, the Spartan was going to have any time to celebrate.
A pair of Hunters emerged from one of the buildings, their cannons glowing brightly. Lucas grabbed one of the fallen Plasma Rifle with his left hand. With the sword still in his right hand, he took off, sprint towards the Hunters.
The battle to get into the main structure of base had been tough, with dozens upon dozens of defenders and more than a few gun emplacements. But the battle inside the confined spaces of the base had been outright brutal. Close quarter fighting worked in the favor of the Covenant, where they didn't have to rely on accuracy to take down their enemies, just sheer volume of fire. This was especially true with the Elites who were far stronger than humans and formidable close quarter fighters, not to mention equipped with personal energy shields.
And through all of that bloody fighting, there had been no sign of their lone Spartan.
But after nearly half an hour of constant fighting, McKay and several of her squads finally made it to the roof and the Shade turrets, firing their weapons at the Covenant forces. In response, the Shade turrets quickly turned from the skies to them, unleashing a hellish barrage of plasma. Several marines and ODSTs were cut down as the rest scrambled for cover.
The four turrets were spaced out in a wide diamond in the center of the roof, surrounded by supply crates and energy barriers. Two of the four Shades were tracking McKay's group while the other two were firing on Sergeant Stacker's team.
"Get some Jackhammers on those turrets!" McKay shouted, firing blindly around a crate.
Three marines armed with rocket launchers rose from their cover, taking aim at the turrets. Two rockets flew while the third soldier was shot and killed. One rocket hit dead on while the other struck an Elite that stood up from behind a fallen crate at the wrong time.
"Come on ladies!" Stacker shouted at his squad. "Quit sitting on your asses and throw some frags at these bastards!"
A trio of grenades flew through the air, landing amid the aliens, one rolling up against the leg of a Shade. They exploded, killing several warriors and throwing the turret into the air before it landed on an unlucky Jackal.
But the grenades did something else, they distracted the rest of the alien soldiers, allowing the two surviving heavy weapon marines to take aim at the remaining turrets. They fired their launchers, destroying the remaining Shades.
With the guns neutralized, the UNSC soldiers pressed the attacked, whittling down the enemy until the last cowering Grunt was shot. The roof cleared, many of the humans let out a cheer at their victory.
However, the cheers were silenced with a single shout of "Spirits!"
Two of the U-shaped Covenant dropships were fast approaching, undoubtedly filled with enemy reinforcements. Their underbelly turrets swiveled, coming to bear against them.
The marines and Helljumpers once more dove for cover as scattered plasma bolts rained down on them. "Get the Jackhammers on them!" McKay ordered.
"Sorry ma'am," one of the marines replied. "We used up our last rockets on the turrets."
"Then get that other launcher!" she shot back.
The marine rose to his feet, sprinting to the rocket launcher, only to get a plasma bolt in the back as he reached it. "Dammit," the First Lieutenant cursed as the man's body hit the ground.
The Spirits had them effectively pinned down as they made their approach. They were going to have to take care of things the hard way.
But at that moment, Lieutenant B312 emerged from one of the doorways, a rocket launcher on his left shoulder and a Fuel Rod Gun in his right hand, orange and blue blood staining his armor. He marched out into the center of the roof, his shields flaring as plasma bolts struck his armor. In an impressive feat of strength, he fired both at the closest Spirit. Projectile and rocket slammed into the front of the craft, consuming it in a fireball.
Not even waiting to watch the stricken dropship fall, the Spartan pivoted, aiming at the other Spirit and firing again. The rocket missed the cockpit, striking the side of the left trooper carrier while the projectile of the Fuel Rod Gun hit the cockpit. The explosion damaged the Spirit but its pilot managed to maintain control.
The Lieutenant threw down the rocket launcher and fired more shots with the Covenant cannon. Another round hit the Spirit dead on followed by third, finishing off the craft. The Spirit fell, smoke and fire emerging from its cockpit. It slammed into the side of central structure.
The ground beneath their feet shook and trembled as the Spirit impacted. But whatever metal the building had been built with was surprisingly tough, enduring the force of the impact and the explosion that followed a split-second later.
McKay could only shake her head while troopers let out a cheer. The Spartan had disobeyed orders, ran off on his own, nearly jeopardized the mission and all their lives, yet managed to single-handedly dispose of most of the turrets and a fair amount of the Covenant stationed here, not to mention taking out the two Spirits. At the moment, she couldn't tell whether he was a loose cannon that would one day get himself and anyone around him killed or one of the best damned soldiers she had ever seen.
"Major, this is McKay," she said, opening a channel to her superior. "The last of the turrets have been disposed of, repelled the Covenant counterattack and are just mopping up the last of their forces."
"Good work Lieutenant," Silva replied. "The Covenant counterattack has been repelled and we'll begin bringing up the remaining personnel shortly. And we've also managed to get in touch with Cortana and the Master Chief. They've been gathering up other teams that made it off the Autumn."
McKay nodded, looking over at the Spartan. "That's good to hear sir. We'll be preparing for your arrival. Over and out."
She watched as the Spartan reached up and pulled off his helmet, staring out at the horizon. "You did some good work sir," McKay said as she approached the armored super soldier. "But you disobeyed orders sir. My report will state that despite the outcome."
The Spartan glanced at her with his gray eyes. He was young, younger than her. Twenty-two, twenty-three maybe. His black hair was cut as per the regulations with matching stubble growing along his tanned face. There were some scars running along his face; a small one on the right edge of his chin, another running down the left side of his face and a few scars from shrapnel on his right cheek. His nose was also slightly crooked, likely from being broken and not being set properly afterwards.
"Sorry for being late," the Spartan offered. "I was delayed by a pair of Hunters."
Melissa blinked. Hunters? None of her squads had reported sightings of the dreaded shock troopers of the Covenant. Most soldiers feared them more than the Brutes or the Elites. If he encountered a pair of the monsters and managed to kill them on his own, then it was an impressive feat. And maybe some of those crazy stories about the Spartans and the things they accomplished against the Covenant were true.
Of course, that didn't excuse his actions here today.
"There were Demons aboard the human vessel, are you sure?" Thel 'Vadamee, Supreme Commander of the Fleet of Particular Justice asked.
"Yes Supreme Commander. My team encountered two of them."
"And yet you let them escape," Soha 'Rolamee arrogantly commented. "Worse than that, you fled from them."
Special Operations Warrior Varus 'Taralumee bit back a snarl at the bureaucrat's words. The sole reason that 'Rolamee was even a part of this conversation was because that Prophet that was traveling with the Fleet had sent him in his stead. He knew nothing about warfare and strategy. Yes, his team failed to kill the Demons and he did indeed flee after his team was killed and he was injured. Not, however, for his survival but so that he could bring word to the Commanders of the Fleet that there were Demons with the humans.
"Prefect, given the chance I would have gladly given my life to slay the Demons," Varus replied. "But I knew it was vital that word of their presence reach your ears."
The Supreme Commander nodded in agreement. "And you are right. On countless campaigns, the Demons have inflicted grave damage to our forces. A single Demon can slay hundreds, perhaps thousands of warriors," he said. "They are not to be underestimated."
Varus agreed wholeheartedly, his bandaged left eye socket aching. He had seen firsthand what they could do. The Demons were truly deserving of their names.
"So you say Supreme Commander," the Prefect said. "But I cannot help but wonder if these 'Demons' are truly that formidable or if it is just incompetence and cowardice of those facing them."
The black armored Sangheili warrior tensed, anger filling his veins. How dare that spineless bureaucrat call him a coward and the Supreme Commander incompetent! Had the Prefect been there in person instead of by hologram, he would have challenged him to an Honor Duel right then and there, rank be damned. But 'Rolamee was elsewhere, aboard the damaged Battlecruiser Truth and Reconciliation stationed upon Halo itself as they made repairs.
Varus turned to Supreme Commander 'Vadamee's projection. "Supreme Commander, I wish to lead a team to hunt down and slay the Demons."
'Rolamee let out a laugh. "A team led by a one eyed coward? Who in their right mind would allow such a thing?"
But 'Vadamee's eyes were solely upon Varus. "Very well," the officer answered after a moment. "I will allow you to form a team to hunt these Demons."
"Supreme Commander! This is outrageous!" the Prefect started to protest.
"However," 'Vadamee continued. "I will not waste the lives of good Sangheili on a futile battle. You are to hunt and track the Demons; you will not engage them until I say otherwise. I trust you will not have any problems with this."
Varus shook his head. Truthfully, he wanted to slay the Demons, especially the one that had taken his eye but his loyalty to 'Vadamee was far greater than his need for vengeance. He would obey the Supreme Commander's orders without question. "No Supreme Commander," he said, reaching up for the bandages on his eye, tearing it off. Varus looked up at his superior with one eye and one empty socket. "I do not have a problem with your orders as it doesn't remain just observing them."
"It won't."
Originally, this chapter was going to be longer, featuring a scene from The Flood where Silva blatantly expresses his bigotry towards the Spartans to the Chief. But at the last minute, I decided to shorten it down for a flashback for the beginning of the next chapter.
As for Varus, I have a number of ideas for him at the moment. Potentially, he might survive Halo and return as a member of Rtas 'Vadumee's (Half-Jaw) Spec Ops team so that I have an excuse to feature some of their story in Halo 2. And to have a few amusing encounters with Lucas.
As always, please review.