UNSC Infinity in orbit over Requiem

February 12, 2558

"Why the hell does it have to be a freakin woman?!" Fowler complained as they walked down the halls of Infinity to the armor bay. "Maybe this is a damn babysitting job after all."

"Can't be that bad," Austal whispered back. They were just ahead of the other three in walking down the mission area and the former was probably the least pleased to hear that they were getting another Spartan outside the 37th. It made it even worse that she looked like a kid straight out of bootcamp. "Commander Palmer picked her out of the entire contingent stationed here for a reason."

"Says the guy who just got married,"

Austal automatically glanced down at the band seated at his ring finger on his right hand. He was hastily married to the love of his life just a couple days ago before being whisked to Requiem, "Just relax. I'm sure she knows her shit and won't be a liability."

"Whatever."

Being practically best friends, Brett Fowler and Marcus Austal usually confided to one another about their personal opinions. The former was much more vocal and sometimes his words were taken by others as being blunt and harsh. He spoke his mind, not hesitant to challenge someone else if they were contending to be the "dominant" person around. Mostly Lusana's cool level-headedness had stemmed Fowler and his aggressive persona, which would usually end up with him being injured anyway, but not before inflicting a lot of damage on whoever was on the other end. This was especially true whenever the team went to a bar. Fowler was not designated as the guy to pick because it would spin out of control rapidly into a brawl. The team would always count on him though if there was such a fight.

In contrast, Austal was the cooler, easygoing one. He didn't like to talk much on missions, but did partake in conversations and reports when necessary. Ever since Eon had formed, Fowler and Austal had been the bedrock, the source of comic relief in the usual routine of shooting terrorists, Covenant and virtual Spartans on War Games simulations. Their friendship branched out to the other members, but the duo had something very special.

Bailey had introduced herself and was crisply instructed by the black man, who introduced himself as Tony Lusana; Eon Lead to follow them out for their first operation. She knew the rest of them through a brief introduction. Pine was the taller lankier Spartan, Fowler was the mean-looking one and Austal was the shorter guy.

They were all larger than her and she felt even more timid by their icy stares. She had to shrug it off though, Palmer picked her to be on this Spartan spec-ops squad and she was eager to prove that this was not going to be a regrettable decision on her part.

Yet at the same time, being able to do that meant getting along with her coworkers. Her team within the Army had quite a few sexist assholes and she was more than happy to have accepted a Spartan position. Sometimes it took her days just to be able to respect men again.

Eon wasn't quite like her old team, but she felt the same vibe. Bailey silently vowed that if the same incidents happened between her and one of the other Spartans, she wouldn't be as submissive and would get in their faces if need be.

They crossed into the armor bay and began to suit up. Like they had practiced, each Spartan was gestured by the techs to step into the boots and the robotic rings began to slowly apply the remaining armor components. The leg part was quickly fashioned and the ring turned around, clipping the chestplates with the power module with a solid clicking sound.

Finally their helmets came into place, being lowered over their heads and attaching with a seal. The ring unlocked itself and the Spartans were gestured to walk out by the techs.

After a brief aptitude and mobility test by them, they were directed onto one of the platforms and lowered into the mission bay.

Here was an enormous hallway that stood quite tall and bustling with activity. Crewmembers tended to docked pelicans. Warthogs and dollies with their hatches laden with cargo zipped by on a painted road. The large ramps gave way to the hangar platforms raised up to allow exit to space and the giant metal shell of Requiem.

"Here's our mission," Lusana brought up a holotank in the center. The image went to a sangheili clad in golden armor. "This is Parg Vol. He commanded a lot of Covenant back when they attacked Draetheus V. Rumors are circling around that soldiers who were spotted surviving that battle are fighting on Requiem, so it's very possible he's down there up to no good."

As he continued briefing, the other Spartans of the team began gearing up. Helmets were placed on, weapons passed around. Bailey was genuinely surprised when she was handed an MA5D assault rifle. She took it and right afterwards, a pistol was passed her way.

"Thanks," She automatically said.

The other Spartan, PINE gave a nod, but did not reply.

"Parg Vol has a motor pool that is being used to service the bulk of their wraiths on the Covenant's main lines. Our mission is to sabotage the facility, take some pressure off the armor on the main warfront."

"Where is the motor pool?" Fowler asked.

"We don't exactly know. Which is why we need to locate a wraith or phantom attached to the place and we'll place a telemetry probe and tag it back."

"How are we going to do that?" Bailey asked.

Lusana held up the telemetry probe. It looked like a long stick with a fat disc in the center. "We'll fire this onto the hull of our target and it'll feed us intelligence on its whereabouts every half second. Normally these can be done through slipspace systems, but I believe that the Covenant is going to keep every vehicle operational here."

"Let's do it."

It was a smooth descent onto the rocky surface of Requiem and their Pelicans dropped off an M12 LRV as well as one of the new M274 Mongoose all terrain vehicle.

"Shotgun!"

Half an hour of driving yielded no contacts. Lusana eased his foot off the gas pedal in the lead. Behind him, Fowler stopped the Mongoose.

"Recon drone's got signatures of wraiths just around the bend," He reported, "We're tagging this one and following it to the motor pool."

Winks of acknowledgement lights came from all four members.

"Austal, we're going on foot. Take point and tag that tank. Pine, accompany him."

"I'm on it." He dismounted the passenger seat of the mongoose and quickly scanned the area. "Let's put the rally point over there," They were in a rocky cliffside and he had gestured towards the inside of a V-shaped edge that went into a cliff. There were also big rocks to its back large enough to conceal the vehicles, "Covenant may be using the path for transit, so maybe you guys can lay low there until we're back."

"You've got thirty minutes, by then, we're coming for you."

The rock formations had opened up to give narrow spaces for the Spartans to contort their body. Luckily, they offered a much easier shortcut.

Of course all of Eon were equipped with a constant generation of Active Camouflage over their armor. The module was integrated into their suits to constantly refresh their invisibility by draining from the power source within. So far, the longest a 37th Spartan has remained in active camo was more than twenty minutes. It was prone to dissipating whenever the user moved, fired or took fire themselves, but the members of Eon constantly took advantage of the system, being able to strike quickly, neutralize their targets and then slip out underneath the enemy's nose.

The camo was just another regular part of the Spartans and it always felt good when they felt the whirring sound indicating that their cloaks were once again melting them into the shadows.

The sound of rumbling engines caused Austal to hold up a fist and their HUDs immediately picked up a large contact dead ahead at their twelve. Using his free hand, the younger Spartan held up three fingers in a prong-like signal before squeezing them together to resemble the chassis of a wraith.

The enormous blue shaded tank was currently running, the entire vehicle hovering just above the ground in front. Beside it was a small crew of a single elite and a group of grunts.

All it had to do was turn around and see the two Spartans creeping up on it. One direct hit from the plasma mortar did devastating damage to any UNSC vehicle.

Two suits of MJOLNIR armor stood no chance in a direct assault.

Ross moved forward, telemetry module in hand before carefully planting it onto the rear fin. The adhesive on the bottom easily stuck it to the hull and a moment later, it began to transmit its location onto their head up displays.

"Okay, probe's been planted. We're Oscar mike to the rally point. Expect us there in ten,"

"We hear you Eon Three," Lusana's smooth voice came over, "Good job."

Three hours later, they were tailing the wraith at a distance when it had stopped. The rocky areas had given way to a grassland terrain that was flat for several miles. The only exception were the tall trees that resembled an African safari trek dotting the horizon and the large shield domes clustered around a cleared area of grass.

The makeshift road had led there as well as off in two separate directions to the northwest and north to potentially other supply stations.

If this was Parg Vol's vehicle camp, it certainly was much more primitive than the Galileo Base.

Their wraith had moved towards one of the domes, which deactivated, allowing it to pass through before raising the shield again. Before it was on once more, Eon immediately gleamed several other wraiths and ghosts in small ports where maintenance equipment was being stored.

"Those shields are barriers to vehicles," Lusana commented, "No way we'd be able to take it on in a frontal assault."

"And unless you've got impressive driving skills to outmaneuver every wraith in there," Fowler checked the ammo belt of the warthog's chaingun, "We don't have enough to take on much."

"We do an infiltration then," Austal suggested, "I can get in there, sabotage the shield and place a marker for an airstrike. If Vol is in there, then he'll be incinerated in seconds,"

Lusana looked over, "You sure you're able to do that?"

Marcus knew that it was more of, can you do it without being seen rather than; are you going to come out alive?

"Easily."

"How do we know you're not going to run into any trouble?" Bailey asked.

He jerked a thumb towards his other teammates, "They know, just follow their lead."

The fact he had said anything bluntly for that matter felt like it stung her skin. She had then just realized it was the first thing Austal had said anything to her at all. Fowler had already acknowledged her presence and he sounded somewhat friendly, but it seemed like it was forced.

It took Austal a few minutes for him to get into position. The Covenant had defended this camp in the middle of nowhere quite well. He saw several plasma cannons mounted on the second floor of the purple structures. The grunt gunners were huddled nearby their emplacements, curled up in their sleeping position.

The act of their own infantry sleeping on the job puzzled him. Despite its well defended fortifications, the taller grass stood nearly seven feet tall, allowing the stealthy Spartan to easily creep through.

"Eon Lead, are we set?"

"Affirmative, Assault Strike drone nine dash one nine is approaching the area with a full payload in two mikes. Place the beacon and then get the hell out of there."

Eon is being Eon again. Once again would like to extend a welcome to all who are jumping aboard on this story. Those of you familiar with what I do...glad you could join me, welcome back :D

Thanks for reading and reviewing, you give my writing purpose.