The marines worked quickly to free their comrades from the prison. Once they were all free and medical evac called in for the worse wounds, one of the marines decided to roam around the base. The Spartans had said not to leave the walls in case the covenant tried to make a counter attack, but he still wanted to make a check for himself so that no surprises would happen. Alan walked around half destroyed building when he heard yelling. He quickly moved to stack against the wall for cover and looked around. He heard the scream again, and realized it was coming from inside the house, and leaned into the doorway to take a peak.
"What? Is that the best punch you have?" A sitting figure in a chair looked up at an elite hovering above him, "What a pathetic excuse for an elite."
The elite growled and pulled his fist back behind his head, striking him hard across the helmet.
The spartan laughed, "And here I was, trying to have a conversation with you, and I can't it's just too painful. Actually, it isn't."
The elite roared and continued to beat him. How does a spartan get captured? Alan wondered as he grabbed his pistol, all he had to do was sneak behind the elite and take him out. He pulled the hammer of the magnum back and crouched down, slowly walking over to behind the elite. His heart rate increased, and he was almost there. Only a few feet directly behind the elite he grabbed his knife, but stopped when he heard the hammer of another gun cock back right behind his head.
"Don' ." A female voice said as he tried to glance backwards. Whoever she was, she was much taller than him. "Drop your gun, and stand up."
Seeing no way out, Alan dropped his pistol and stood back up. "You do realize what's going on here, right? An elite beating a spartan?" he tried to reason.
The mysterious gun holder walked in front of him. "Yes, I can see the whole thing." Spark simply said, "It's just too high above your pay grade for you to understand."
Shaking his head Alan looked at the Spartan, "So what your an insurrectionist?"
"No, we're just on a classified mission." Archangel walked over to him with the elite a foot or so behind him. This….makes no sense. "Spark..please put the gun down you're scaring the marine." As the Spartan complied, Angel looked behind Alan, "Ah good you're here, I was hoping you'd be here to explain."
Alan turned around to see the rest of the spartans behind. "This...is going to be complicated, please just try to understand." Warbird said slowly. "We have been commissioned by ONI section III to undergo a classified mission to destroy covenant based on Atlas. Short and simple, to go any further I'm afraid we would have to….well, conscript? Is that the word conscript?" Angel shrugged, "Whatever, you'd have to be conscripted by ONI to join our squad, take an oath not to say anything, and you'd have to deal with Nighthawks crap. Trust me that last reason is just enough not to want to-"
Warbird was laughing, and Nighthawk was trying to defend himself, but Alan was too focused trying to understand what was really going on. "Tell me the whole story."
It seemed to spartans mood changed from funny to serious all too quickly, "You sure about this?" Reaper asked in a rough voice, "Can't promise a squishy marine like you is gonna make a round trip back home."
Alan swallowed hard. This was going to be the single most important decision in his life. He looked at the Spartans, and pictured his home. No, what was left of his home. Sargasso had been glassed in 2546 when he was on vacation for his eighteenth birthday. He shook his head, "Fill me in."
~10 minutes later~
"You think you can just take one of MY men out with you on some classified mission out in the sticks of Atlas doing God knows what?" The Sergeant in charge of the marine was starting to test Warbirds patience.
"He stumbled on a classified mission and is needed to join with us to see it's completion. and also so we can keep an eye on him so he doesn't let anything slip." He sighed, this guy just wasn't getting it. The odds of a marine stumbling upon a highly classified operation were slim, five percent according to the spook who spoke for someone else to give the orders. One large five percent. "I'm not asking, I'm telling." They others were still waiting at the destroyed building, hopefully Archangel was filling in Alan on what exactly they were doing, but he had to finish up here.
"You can't just take out one of MY men! YOUR OUT OF ORDER!"
"NO YOU'RE OUT OF ORDER, NOW SIT DOWN, SIGN THE DAMN PAPER AND SHUT UP!" Warbird yelled. He had it, he had a mission to complete and he didn't feel like wasting time with a blockhead.
"Who do you think you are? Some high and fancy Spartan who think just because he had genetic enhancements you can boss us around?!"
"No. But I can have you sent back up to Hour of Twilight, and court martialed for interfering with a ONI operation so fast it'll make not only your head spin, but that of all the other idiots of your team who don't know the barrel from the trigger!"That, seemed to get the sargent thinking. He looked at the spartan for a long hard minute and finally nodded. Finally he agreed.
"So, that is a rogue elite who deserted is helping us out by infiltrating the covenant outposts, sending us information, and he is also an extra gun so we can free all of his friends being held in another covenant outpost." Alan asked, restarting the long speech Archangel just gave him.
"In short? Yes." He replied. Their leader finally rejoined them, "How'd it go?"
"Interesting. We all ready?" He looked at the group, Archangel moved back to the center of the room, followed by the elite. "Let's hope your punches got better in the last fifteen minutes Drak'nar."
"Spark, get the tracker ready. Drak'nar, break Angel's jaw."
"So you're tracking the elite signal to find another outpost to destroy it?" Alan asked
"Yup. Some of his buddies are at a camp, and since we're destroying all of the camps, we might as well make an ally or two while we're at it by freeing them."
Alan shrugged, "Makes sense. then I suppose."
"Yes your excellency. I will dispose of the demon and report to the nearest camp." Drak'nar said to a hologram. It disappeared and he sighed, "I will grind you into dust. Was that enough, Spartan?"
"Yup. I have a base."
"A base?"
"Well it matches the coordinates he sent you so…."
"Talk on the road." Reaper interrupted, "I have too much ammo still."
Alan watched as the others stood up and began to walk back just by a nod the leader gave them. "You too Marine." he added.
Drak'nar watched the new marine walk with him. Why would they want him to go with them? He wondered. He activated his active camouflage and walked out with the rest of the group, making sure to be hidden from any prying eyes as long as they were still in the vicinity of the base.
~The Forest fifteen minutes later~
The rain had begun to lightly tap on the leaves of The Forest of Shadows as the darkness had enveloped them completely. The only thing preventing them from bumping into each other or the closest tree was their motion tracker and their helmets night vision adjustments. In Nighthawk's opinion, there was another thing preventing them from bumping into something. Well, at least one thing. "Hey, Reaper, wana make any more noise? You sound like you're carrying pots and pans."
"Nah, he'll stop making noise when he sinks halfway in the mud from all that weight he's hauling around." Archangel laughed. Reaper just grunted and stepped on twigs with every step it seemed as they trudged through the forest.
"Hey, is anyone else's radar going haywire?" Alan asked. Looking through his HUD.
Spark looked down at her motion sensor. Red dots all over the place moving left and right. She began to run through all the different things that could be causing them to break. The only thing that made sense finally crossed her mind. Stealth elites.
As if on cue a group of stealth elites appeared around them. Spark looked around watching them appeared from behind trees and from their active camo. Wait, where's Archangel and Drak'nar.
"Drop your weapons, demons." One spoke as it appeared from stealth. The spartans didn't move for a long time until the elite grew impatient and spoke a few words in sangheili. Some of the elites hit the spartans forcing them to the ground as the weapons were forced from their hands.