Chapter Three

Spartan Ryan

April 15, 2284 (Local calendar)

Near suspected Brotherhood of Steel outpost

Twilight was one of the hardest times to maintain watch, especially if the observer was looking towards the setting sun as their eyes would struggle to adjust between the brightness of the sky and the shadowed ground, doubly so if the terrain was uneven and littered with rocks to create plenty of dead spaces for an enemy to use on an approach.

Further working in Ryan's favour was the fact that, outside of some deep blue highlights and a golden visor, his armour was coloured a dark grey and seemed to almost merge with the rocks as he stole his way towards the apartment block he had picked out, the last vestiges of sunlight reflecting from the few remaining windows that hadn't been broken.

He had left Lieutenant Ramirez and his squad behind the moment they stopped to make an overnight halt in some old fuel station, building a fire to help ward off the chilly night air typical of desert terrains and further draw attention their way. By Ryan's estimate their camp would be within visual range of the observation post but only just, and all anyone might have been able to make out was the glow of the fire.

Hopefully the concern of having hostile troops so close by would draw any spotter's attention to the north, and away from the west where Ryan was. He reached the ambush site, now cleared of the dead and injured, and moved past it, dropping to a knee half a mile beyond behind a jagged rock.

By this point twilight had ended and night had come, the skies above filled with twinkling stars as Ryan pulled out a monocular and held it up. There was a half second delay as the internal systems kicked in and linked with his suit, but soon he was looking at a monochromatic image of the building and from afar, it appeared empty.

There was no obvious movement or light sources coming from within, though he was little too far out to pick up any noises that might be coming from it. The building itself looked pretty generic, a central doorway leading to what he assumed was a lobby of some kind containing a staircase connected to the upper storeys, an apartment on either side. Ryan counted four floors, not including the roof, which made for eight apartments in total.

He kept watch for another five minutes then stowed the monocular and drew his rifle when he saw nothing to suggest life, dropping to his belly. This close to the building he was, theoretically, also visible to any sentries on duty, and there was also every possibility they carried low light optics. Darkness or not, grey coloured armour or not, movement attracted the human eye and with it, any nearby weapons.

Ryan crawled on his elbows and knees for the next few hundred metres to another depression he had spotted but rather than stand up or even crouch, he retrieved a fibre optic probe and fed it out from behind his cover to point at the building. A new image of the building appeared on his HUD, grainier than before, and Ryan carefully angled the probe's camera to sweep across the surface and roof areas, freezing when he finally saw movement.

There was an indistinct shape up on the roof that suddenly appeared, resolving into a humanoid figure carrying something in their arms that had to be a rifle of some kind. Ryan tensed, preparing himself to scramble to his feet the moment he came under fire, but the figure moved towards the northern edge of the roof. A few minutes later, a much bulkier figure joined them and took hold of the rifle, shouldering it to look through the scope.

Ryan resisted the urge to crane his head to look towards whatever it was that had piqued their interest, knowing that any movement, however small, would increase the chances of exposing himself to their attention, but he had a good idea it was the fire Ramirez and his squad had lit. There wasn't anything else of much interest in that direction.

A heartbeat later Artoria, his AI, whispered, 'I am detecting an encrypted communique, Sir Spartan.'

'Can you crack it?' Ryan said.

'Yes,' Artoria said. 'Though sadly, the contents appear to be of limited strategic value to you. The leftmost figure is merely ordering part of his detachment to head out and attack Lieutenant Ramirez's position.'

'So not calling back to base for permission,' Ryan said.

He remained motionless as a trio of people in power armour, the T-51 series, eventually emerged from the apartments and began making their way north through the wastes, towards Ramirez. It would take them a couple of hours to reach the NCR troopers, even at a light jog, which was more than enough time for Ryan to assault their base of operations.

If anything the departure made his task all the easier, not least of which was the removal of three shooters. He panned the probe around to the southern edges of the apartment and assessed the terrain as best he could then stowed it, and with all eyes hopefully looking to the north began crawling south and east to approach from the newly created blind spot.

The last fifty metres were tense as the rocky wasteland terrain gave way to a flat, asphalt parking lot, providing no cover, but no fire came Ryan's way and he was quickly stacked up against a wall, rifle to hand.

He moved in a half-crouch to the main entrance and stopped, checking for traps or tripwires, and when he saw there were none stepped into the lobby. As expected it had a central staircase leading upwards, and to his sides were doorways leading into the ground floor apartments. Scavengers had been by at some point, or even just looters during the immediate post-war period, and knocked them from their hinges.

Inside Ryan could see rotten floorboards and smashed furniture but no troops, not that he expected anyone to be billeted so low down, and it was the same for the next two floors. Their rooms were empty of both furniture and people, just liberal layers of dust and sand, and it would have been easy to assume the building was empty.

That changed on the final floor, starting with the presence of a tripwire strung across a step midway up. It wasn't designed to trip someone, despite the name, but trigger some kind of early warning system. Ryan followed the wire along, careful to avoid snagging it, to a wind can chime at the top of the stairs. Crude but effective, giving the troops inside time enough to grab their weapons.

He left it alone and came out onto the final landing, finding the doors to the apartments here were not only in place, but shut. He stopped and listened, boosting the aural sensors of his helmet to their maximum sensitivity. There hadn't been any noises thus far during his time in the apartment but the Paladins could well have been asleep given the late hour, only a token guard on watch.

As he listened, the subtle sounds of more than a dozen people breathing softly became discernible, as did the occasional creak and clatter of objects as they were moved, and dull thuds of footsteps on a roof as the sentry up there maintained their watch.

Judging by the noises it seemed like the squad was evenly split between the two rooms, rather than have them clustered in one and be easy prey for grenades. Ryan thought briefly about using one as he mused on how to go about tackling the Paladins. Yagami's packet on them, their skills and equipment, had been extensive and nothing particularly stood out to him as being of considerable danger.

Of course, it was one thing to read about something from an intelligence dossier and quite another to experience it for himself. The best way to do that would be trigger their early warning system, give them time to armour up and grab their weapons, and then engage them in a straight up fight.

The problem with that, though, was the basic military adage of never fighting fairly.

Ryan plucked a grenade from his belt and moved to one of the doors, which he opened with a swift kick that overpowered any barricades the Paladins might have erected, and chucked the now primed fragmentation device through it. He caught a brief glimpse of a group of soldiers sat around a table playing cards, all four of them looking up at him with surprise, and a few others curled up against a wall as they slept, but before he could see anything else Ryan ran for the other door and charged it.

Like the one before, it yielded to him without much resistance and opened in a shower of dust and splinters, revealing a similar scene. Some of the Paladins were entertaining themselves with a card game at a table, some were asleep on the floor, or had been before the rude intrusion, and another was just coming out of the bathroom.

None were armoured and only two had weapons within easy reach, both laser pistols, but all were looking at the Spartan with shock that lasted only for a split second before training took over and they made moves to engage him.

Ryan stepped to the side as the grenade he had thrown exploded and levelled his assault rifle at the card group, firing a short, controlled burst at each with the speed and precision that only came about from a Spartan, dropping all three Paladins in the blink of an eye, plus who knew how many others behind him taken out by the grenade.

'Headcount,' Ryan said.

'Three down so far,' Artoria said. 'Another five up in front of you, plus two more in the room on your right. I am also tracking at least seven more hostiles behind you.'

Plus the sentry on the roof made for fifteen targets still moving, some of which would likely be bearing wounds from the grenade's explosion and none appeared to be equipped in armour. At least, none that Ryan could see who shifted his fire to the Paladins that had been asleep on the floor, ending them with an extended burst to leave just the Paladin that had come out of the bathroom, plus the two still in the bedroom.

He had his weapon to hand now and opened fire back at Ryan, deep red beams cutting through the dim room to strike his shields which glowed with their characteristic golden shimmer in response.

By this point the seven Paladins from the other apartment had joined the fray and Ryan span to face them. The lead Paladin had blood streaming from his nose and ears and his left arm was hanging uselessly by his side, the uniform covering it slick with blood, but his right arm was still functioning and held a laser pistol that was pointed right at Ryan's head.

It fired twice and made contact, momentarily blinding the Spartan, but he retained enough awareness to walk forward, grab the Paladin's extended wrist with his left hand, and use his augmented strength to break it in one swift movement, followed up by a violent headbutt.

When his vision returned to him Ryan was greeted by the sight of a now dead Paladin slumping backwards, held aloft by his right arm, and six more behind him. The next two carried laser rifles and the three behind them were dressed in power armour, helmet mounted lights on to cut through the dimness of the apartment.

There were a few small battery operated lanterns spread throughout the room, throwing up soft yellow light that crude blinds fashioned from thick sheets hid from outside view, but in the scuffle they had been knocked to the floor and were casting grotesque shadows on the walls.

Ryan brought his rifle up again and loosed off two more short bursts, scoring a headshot apiece on the laser rifle carriers before they could open fire and in the process emptying his magazine. He reloaded on reflex and strode towards the power armour wearers, now the biggest threat in the building, and by the time he had reloaded they were face to face.

He barely had to move the muzzle of his rifle ahead of firing, unloading point-blank into the Paladin's gut with an extended burst. They locked up then collapsed to their knees before falling to the side, helped that way in part by Ryan's boot as he expended the rest of the magazine at the next Paladin along. They fell in short order too, leaving one last Paladin in T-51 power armour with another, out of their armour, behind them.

This time Ryan just stepped forward and drove the buttstock of his MA5C into the Paladin's helmeted head, crumpling the hardened surface with a satisfying crunch and with enough force to send them tumbling backwards into the person behind, sending both tumbling to the ground.

He reloaded once again and fired a single round apiece into each and turned around to face the remainder of the Brotherhood's forces, taking another flurry of lasers beams from the Paladin he had left in the first room, plus the two that hidden in the bedroom that had their power armour on.

Another frag grenade from the Spartan landed in their midst and detonated, shredding the unarmoured one and staggering the two in power armour, long enough for Ryan to re-enter the room and shoot them both dead.

A brief silence fell on the room, the air thick with smoke from the twin grenade explosions, gunfire and dust thrown up by the scuffle, and Ryan waited a moment as his shields reached full charge again. When he stepped out of the room to deal with the roof sentry, he found they were already coming to him when a round from their sniper rifle slammed into him, making his shields flare once more.

He turned in the direction the shot had come from to see they had dropped their upper half down through the access hatch. Lightning quick he strode forward and grabbed the rifle's barrel, bending it, and then the front of the sentry's jacket to yank them all the way through the hole. They landed with a solid thump that knocked the wind from their lungs, paralysing them briefly.

Ryan was quick to roll them onto their front and produced a set of flexicuffs, using them to secure the sentry's wrists behind them. The Spartan then hauled his newly acquired prisoner of war into a sitting position and began the process of stripping them, being interrupted briefly by the arrival of the three Paladins that had gone out to attack Ramirez, drawn back to base by the sounds of battle. Some shots from his M6G saw to them.

Spartan Ryan

April 16, 2284 (Local calendar)

Temporary NCR camp

'Turns out there were twenty-five people,' Ryan said as he arrived back at the camp, forcing the POW down onto her knees next to the NCR troopers who all jumped at his sudden arrival. 'One survivor.'

'Jesus Christ, man,' Ramirez said. 'Twenty-four Paladins by yourself?'

'According to the body count afterwards,' Ryan said, giving an abbreviated rundown of the fight before motioning to the prisoner. 'Miss Cortez, Paladin, serial number CT-080P, was the only one lucky enough to live.'

Cortez, who had gone through the usual motion of reciting her name, rank and serial number every time she was asked a question, sullenly looked away from him and the troopers into the middle distance.

'Jesus,' Ramirez said again. 'Well, you get anything else?'

'Just a few maps of the area they were using,' Ryan said, pulling them from a pouch and handing them over. 'With their main base quite helpfully not marked down.'

Ramirez let out a sigh at that but unfolded them anyway, the first one being an old pre-war map of Fresno and its surrounding areas. Though their actual base wasn't marked down the apartment building they had used was, plus a slew of spots along Highway 99 that might have been past and future ambush sites.

The other was of the Sierra Nevada mountains to the east but it was completely devoid of any markings, of any kind, that might suggest where the Brotherhood of Steel had their base of operations. Ramirez looked at it for a moment and then at Cortez, catching Ryan's eye afterwards who nodded, grasping his plan.

Together they took the map of Sierra Nevada and put it down next to the fire, as though to better illuminate it, with the Spartan crouching so that while he was between Cortez and the map she was still able to see it and what they were pointing to.

'And here I thought you Brotherhood types would have looked down on something like this,' Ramirez said to her without actually taking his eyes off the map, running his fingers along the creases that had formed. 'No circuitry, no batteries, no screen. Thing's practically an antique.'

Cortez said nothing in response but Ryan could see she was watching them from the corner of her eyes as Ramirez examined the map. Though it had no markings, they might still be able to glean a likely search zone based off the creases that had been folded into it to narrow down from a few hundred square miles to just a few dozen, and if they were really lucky a point might have been worn into it where dozens of fingers had touched their base's location.

Otherwise, they might have to rely on the minute expressions on Cortez's face to get a more localised fix.

'Makes you wonder how far their love for technology goes,' one trooper said. 'Like, do you guys have dates with other people, real people, or does only Mr Roboto do it for you?'

He stood up and pantomimed humping something, moaning out, 'Oh, yeah, baby, let me through your firewall. I got an extra hard drive for you.'

Finished, he flipped Cortez the bird and sat back down as she glowered at him.

'I'd be more concerned with how much their family trees branch,' Ramirez said. 'Or don't. They're not big on recruiting outsiders, far as I know, so it's possible everyone in their order is related. Might be why they call everyone brother and sister.'

'Now that's some tribal shit, right there,' another trooper said.

'I thought they all looked the same,' a third said. 'Being inbred explains a lot.'

Ramirez allowed a faint smile creep onto his face as he folded the map along what looked to be the right creases, shrinking it down from a few hundred square miles to a few dozen, albeit all of it still in mountainous terrain. A perfect place to hide a bunker.

'Any thoughts, Spartan?' he said, offering the map up to Ryan who took hold of the item, scanning it for any clues.

The possible search zone was roughly five miles across and eight high, making for around forty square miles of land to comb through. Worse still, if the map was to be believed, it would be heavily wooded which would make looking for structures all the harder, especially clandestine ones. On the other hand, moving through dense foliage in power armour was hardly the easiest thing to do. Multiply that by however many Paladins, Knights and Scribes were living at the base and a whole new path might have been carved out for them to follow.

'We'll move along the likeliest route they took getting to this section,' Ryan said, tracing a finger across the map as Cortez looked on. 'Hopefully we'll pick up a hint of their forces. Hard to be stealthy in power armour.'

He stopped his finger near a bend in the path after Cortez appeared to stay her breathing that little bit longer than before, the contemptuous look she had been giving everyone faltering. Ryan took his finger away and examined that part of the map but couldn't see anything obvious as to why she would suddenly become so tense.

There was no fading from being handled too often or having pencil marks erased, though according to the map's legend there was some old resort about two miles from the bend. That could have been the Brotherhood's base of operations rather than a bunker, depending on its size and their own numbers.

Ryan tapped the icon and Ramirez nodded, and to their left Cortez seemed to become very still indeed.