The two guards in the security room were not prepared for an attack. They lounged in their chairs, relaxing as they anticipated getting relieved from watch within the hour. The conversation was quiet and listless, their minds undoubtedly more on their beds than what was being said.
Neither of them noticed the way the light bent around two figures slipping wraithlike into the room. In fact, they had no idea they weren't alone until hands gripped their crowns and chins, and before they could so much as squeak the two figures jerked. After a pair of soggy crunches the guards slid bonelessly from their chairs.
Carolina stepped over the corpses as the two members of her squad shed their camouflage. Billings and Davies each gave her a curt nod, then wordlessly moved out into the hallway to take their next positions. Carolina couldn't stop a small swell of pride; both women had worked hard to get onto Cyan Team, and on their first infiltration were performing perfectly despite being from different armies.
Carolina made damn sure her training regimen was all about teamwork.
She swept her eyes over the bank of monitors showing the sleeping outpost. The layout was small and simple: tucked into a shallow basin between the caves and a narrow plateau, most of the facilities were underground. Only two buildings were on the surface, separated by a land bridge that arched high enough to block their view of each other. A scattering of patrols made their rounds as everyone else slept, but at this hour few were alert to the possibility of danger. She would have loved to just strafe the place with an air strike, but the New Federation didn't have enough aircraft to risk unless absolutely necessary. Besides, they needed the base still standing to hold up their ruse with the Sangheili.
Epsilon's voice chimed in her thoughts.
-Still undetected. Nice one, sis.
"Thanks. All squads accounted for?" she asked as she turned her attention to the control panel.
-Red, Green, and Lightish-Red Teams are waiting in the caves; Maroon and Orange Teams are in their Warthogs engines hot. Just waiting on Blue and Gray.
"And they all know what to do?"
-... Well, they know what they're supposed to do. Most of them. There's even a pretty good chance some of them will actually do it.
Reaching up to the back of her neck, she paused with her finger on the dcc-eject button. She glanced behind her to check that her squad was out of range, then cut her external comm just in case.
"What are our odds, Epsilon?" she asked.
-... Really?
"I'm hoping it'll make me feel better about this."
-It won't.
She couldn't help a grim smile. "That bad, huh?" she said.
-Not bad, but the odds are incalculable. Too many variables because, let's be honest, not even they have any fucking idea what they're gonna do next. But that's why they work.
"Because they have no idea what they're doing?"
-Because they're unquantifiable. You can't direct them; you just unleash them and hope for the best. And the enemy can't defend against something they can't predict. I mean, hey, it's worked so far... this week. Besides, we're already here; we can't really turn around and go home.
A suspicion drew Carolina's brows together. "You're being awfully relaxed about this," she said, "Why?"
She could feel Epsilon's guilty hesitation as if it were her own. -Uh, I trust them?
"You left a backup of yourself back at base, didn't you?"
-Hey, their shtick may work, but it's had collateral damage in the past. You can't blame me for being cautious.
"Your Delta is showing," she murmured. She took a deep breath and shook off her unease. "Alright, here goes nothing," she said and ejected his chip. Instantly her mind felt empty and uncomfortable, like wearing armor way too large for her. She inserted Epsilon into the control desk. Almost a whole ten seconds went by before his digital body flared to life on the tiny holotank.
"Right, security systems disabled, doors overridden, communications locked — I am completely in control of the base," he said. "Now we just have to take out the trash."
"That was so lame," Carolina said, rolling her eyes.
Epsilon have her a dirty look. "Hey, you got anything better? Huh? Didn't think so. So if you're done critiquing, let's get the goddamn show on the road," he snapped.
She scanned the monitors again. On one screen she saw Billings and Davies down the hall, waiting on either side of the barracks door. On another was the garage containing the motor pool. After watching for several minutes without seeing any movement, she keyed her mic.
"Wash. Status?"
"Finishing up now; all but one vehicle has been disabled. No one's leaving this base with these."
"Good."
"I would like to take this time to thank you for giving my squad a stealth-intensive assignment and then pairing us with Caboose's team. Really appreciate it."
Carolina grinned. "Well, Sarge works better in the vanguard and you needed someone with mechanical experience. And bitch all you want, but how effective has Caboose been at sabotaging the vehicles?" she asked.
"... Alright, I'll give you that. Just about done; awaiting your signal."
"Roger," Carolina said, then turned off her mic and made one last scan of the screens. She clenched her jaw as she looked at the monitor showing the barracks interior. She was consigning the men and women sleeping there to an ignoble death, not even giving them the chance to defend themselves. It was necessary to keep her people safe, but that didn't stop a small twinge of guilt.
"Hit it," Carolina said, her eyes locked on the screen.
Every speaker on base blasted the clear bugle notes of reveille, the piercing noise jarring after the silence. As Carolina watched on the monitors the soldiers stirred, slowly bringing themselves to wakefulness. Outside, the patrols scrambled to defend themselves as the New Fed teams swarmed out of the caves in the north.
In the hall, Billings and Davies jerked open the barracks door just long enough to sling a nondescript satchel into the center of the room, then slammed it back shut. The more alert of the Charon soldiers had only a second to wonder.
A muted boom rattled the compound as the screen showing the interior barracks flared white then faded to snow. Carolina let out a breath as her helmet's air filters struggled to scrub out the stench of smoke and burning flesh filling the air. It would have been kinder to kill them in their sleep, but without something to keep the soldiers outside busy they would have converged on this position and overrun her squad.
Better them than us.
"Alright, I've done all I can for now. Pull me," Epsilon said.
Caroline ejected his chip and slammed it home in the neural interface slot at the back of her neck. The AI's return felt like a freezing mist sliding over her brain followed by a small jab of pain, then they were once again connected.
-Time to kick some ass.
"Just stop — it's painful how much of a dork you are," Carolina said.
-Again with the criticism! You're talking a lot of shit for someone who hasn't even come up with a single one liner.
"I don't need to talk about kicking ass," Carolina said as she headed out into the hall, her squad falling into step behind her, "I just do it."
-... Okay, yeah, I'm starting to see where you're coming from with the "so lame it hurts" thing.
"Shut up."
The predawn darkness did little to hide the chaos topside as Carolina exited the facility. Rifle reports peppered the air, cutting through the yells and screams. A trio of Warthogs roamed the perimeter (one trailing soft notes of norteño behind it), the M46 LAAGs on the back seemingly aflame with continuous muzzle flashes as Charon soldiers were mowed down. The pirates fought in pockets of twos and threes, desperately trying to regroup. The New Feds hunted them down savagely, eager to vent their rage.
She keyed her mic and selected all frequencies. "Barracks clear. How we looking?"
"Gray Team, motorpool secure."
"Blue Team, motorpool secure... again. Some more. Yes."
"North squads — take that, dirtbag! And that! You want some, too?! Got plenty for ya! — are in control of the situation!"
Grif's voice could barely be heard over the cacophony of the Warthog's engine, turret, and accordion music blasting over the radio. "Hey, some assholes are shooting at us with goddamn rocket launchers on the east side! Can somebody fucking do something about that?!"
Carolina turned and nodded at her team. They saluted and started at a run towards the second building. "I've got my team on the way, Grif. Keep dodging."
A massive explosion boomed to the west, lighting the area for a few seconds as fire belched into the sky. A worrying amount of gunfire followed.
Wash's voice burst from her headset, shouting to be heard over the chaos in the background.
"Shit! They threw a grenade — blew up the back of the motorpool! I've got ten — " a three-round burst, " — nine bogies blocking our only way out! They've got us pinned!"
"On my way," Carolina said, turning and activating her speed amp.
Her vision went bleary as she began to move faster than her brain could process what her eyes were seeing. Enhanced by the AI, there was no delay between thought and movement. She was almost a passenger in her body as she ran; Epsilon bridged the neural lag between the information received by her retinas and making the necessary course corrections, compiling it so quickly she had no idea there were any obstacles until she had already passed them. At this speed even brushing against a building would mean a broken bone, but she trusted Epsilon to guide her safely.
He slowed her as she neared her destination, letting her see the scene being illuminated by the fire. She ducked behind the edge of a building and peered around it to avoid drawing attention to herself. Thick, greasy smoke poured out of the garage, its back end engulfed with flames. Outside the front, a cluster of Charon soldiers were crouched behind a makeshift barricade of metal crates and stacks of tires. They were completely focused on the motorpool as they fired into the burning building, ignorant of their exposed flank.
-Damn, they destroyed their own Warthogs? Didn't expect that.
Caroline shrugged. They know they've lost, so now they just want to take out as many of us as they can. This is a pretty good plan — they're safe behind cover, and our guys either let the fire kill them or step out and get shot.
-That's cold.
That's what I'd do.
Her mind flashed through tactics in the space of a heartbeat; there were too many to take out quickly at long range and they were too spread out for a grenade.
-Looks like you're gonna have to go in. Calculating strategy now.
Carolina used the opportunity to radio her teams inside. "Stay down; anyone who shoots me is getting shot back twice," she growled.
"Roger that, we'll — yes, Caboose, I know that's Carolina! How have you not figured out radio calls by now?! Damn it… just keep your head down, okay, buddy?!" Wash interrupted himself with a fit of coughing. "Clark, sit on him if you have to! Yeah, Carolina, we'll stay low. Hurry."
-Alright, solution plotted. Let's go.
She charged forward. Again the world blurred, though not as much as before — Epsilon kept her at exactly the right speed to give her maximum advantage but minimal risk of self-injury. Now that she could watch herself move, it seemed to her amplified senses like she was running underwater when in reality she was moving twice as fast as a normal human.
Her HUD painted each opponent with a red outline, highlighting specific weaknesses. She only had to look at a target to find her boot or the butt of her gun there, her arms moving automatically to dispatch an incapacitated soldier with a quick burst of fire from her rifle.
Three pirates were down before the rest noticed. They turned — slowly, so slowly — and opened fire.
Epsilon calculated the trajectory of each bullet and shifted her to the safest location. Carolina hurled herself into her opponents, striking and firing and dodging and ducking almost on instinct alone. Blood and worse splattered her armor as she whirled through the soldiers, killing them with a ruthless efficiency. Epsilon bolstered her defense, becoming another pair of eyes and setting her to block or evade incoming attacks. No movement was wasted; each kick turned her to fire at an enemy behind her, each dodge put her in a position to strike at an opening.
Caught by surprise and having no defense against an AI-enhanced ex-Freelancer, the pirates didn't stand a chance. No more than thirty seconds passed from her first shot to the last, and she now stood surrounded only by Charon corpses. "It's clear! Move!" she called over the radio.
Almost instantly six figures appeared, backlit by flames as they scrambled to safety. One limped so heavily they had to be half-dragged by two others, and Carolina felt a chill as they neared and she spotted the familiar gray armor — dented, rent, and bloody.
She ran over and helped Caboose and Smith ease Wash into a sitting position on one of the tire stacks. Scorch marks and jagged abrasions covered one side of his armor, but there were only a few places where the titanium alloy had been compromised. One such place was where a shard of metal had pierced straight through his leg, its end gleaming wetly in the firelight. The New Feds not supporting Wash doubled over or sprawled on the ground, coughing and gasping for air.
Carolina glanced around to make sure their position was safe enough tend to the wounded and let them recover.
Epsilon?
-No hostiles in the area. You're clear for now.
She knelt and inspected Wash's leg. The biofoam injectors had already sealed the wound around the jagged shard; there was very little else she could do until they secured the outpost. "Report," Carolina snapped as she stood.
"I'm fine; it looks worse than it is," Wash panted, trying to sound casual through his pain. "Superficial damage."
"You've got a chunk of metal in you, Wash."
"... Okay, except for that. I'll be fine, really. I've still got — " Carolina ignored the tiny tug at her heart as Wash bit off his sentence; she knew the name he'd been about to say. There was an awkward pause, then he finished dully, " — still got the healing unit."
"What happened?" she demanded.
Caboose bounced up and down, unable to contain his eagerness to answer. "THAT WAS VERY FUN! AND EXCITING! AND NOT AT ALL SCARY!" he shouted in his strange, halting cadence. "FIRST we got to play with the AUTOMOBILES! And maybe one or two got accidentally broken BUT I DIDN'T GET YELLED AT! THEN somebody threw a BALL and I wanted to get it for Freckles but he wouldn't let me!"
"That was a grenade, Captain Caboose," Freckles interjected. Carolina gave a small shake of her head; she doubted she would ever get used to Caboose's talking gun babysitter.
"THEN there was a REALLY BIG EXPLOSION and it got really hot and people were FIRING AT US and then YOU CAME and took out all the bad people that were being mean! THEN we came out HERE and you asked us what happened! And I said, 'THAT WAS VERY FUN! AND EXCITING! AND — '"
"What happened to Wash?" Carolina interrupted.
"Cars don't like me," Wash grunted, the words sounding like they were pushed through clenched teeth.
"The grenade hit the Warthog Captain Washington was standing next to, ma'am," one of the other soldiers said, staggering to her feet — the name "Parker" glowed helpfully on Carolina's HUD. "And thank you — for coming for us, ma'am." She looked around at the carnage the former freelancer had left in her wake. "Damn, you fucked them up," she added.
Some things never change, Carolina mused with a smile. It was then she noticed that the air was almost completely free of gunfire. She sobered and checked in on the other squads. "Motorpool secure, area's quiet. How are we doing out there?"
"Cleanin' up the last of 'em now." A lone shotgun blast punctuated Sarge's report. "Think we're good here."
"Casualties?"
"Nah. Some scrapes and bruises but nothin' that can't be sucked up."
"Good. Simmons, head to the security room and radio Armonia. Tell them the outpost is secure and we need a medevac for Wash — bad leg wound, condition is stable but he's gonna need some TLC. Radio passcode is India, Delta, one, zero, Tango," Carolina said. She barely heard Simmons' affirmation as she sent Epsilon a fondly exasperated, Really?
-Hey, I needed something they'd be able to get. It seemed fitting.
She shook her head again. "The rest of you, get patched up and get to work cleaning," she said. She glanced at the blazing motorpool next to her. "We've got a lot to do and quickly — this place needs to be presentable for our guests and we don't know when they're arriving. Let's hustle, people."
She turned off her radio, hesitated, turned it back on and said in her most threatening growl, "And Orange Team, don't make me come find you."