Helldivers that had been stuck aboard the UNSC's ships due to medical needs had been given a surprisingly free-reign access of the ship itself. Farkas hobbled on one good leg, his other being in a cast, plus two metal crutches as he moved down the hall in nothing but his BDU and cape. The Appalachia's crew had been unsurprisingly silent since their return aboard with what was once one of the UNSC's own Marines, now an Automaton resisting its programming. Were it up to Farkas, he would've put the poor former woman out of her misery, but-
He cut off as he approached the mess hall, where he found a gathered crowd of UNSC Marines around a massive television display. He slowly moved forward to join the crowd as he saw a news programme running. Footage showing the battles down on Malevelon, filmed by UNSC Reporters attached with planetside units, painted a grim picture of what was left of the two Earths' defenses of the Dark Planet. Malevelon would certainly fall within the next couple of days. Despite propaganda, that was what was being heard up and down the Grapevine.
Farkas couldn't blame any of the men and women fighting on the Creek. The place was Hell, rather obviously, so any images taken to show the kind of crap people were going through would be useful. He stepped up and noticed Alessia there, too, nursing a broken arm from one of the latest ops. She turned and snapped a salute at the Chief, who saluted back and nodded to her to be at ease.
The Headline below, on that blue stripe news channels usually have on screen, read AUTOMATON BATTLEFRONT:MALEVELON CREEK DEFENSES HEAVILY ASSAILED just as an image of a UNSC Marine hauling a Jackhammer rocket launcher appeared. Both tubes were fired in quick succession toward an Automaton turret tower just as it was traversing toward the unit, all while Automaton Drop Ships deployed reinforcements for the Outpost in the background.
Then, the image changed to bodybags next to landed UNSC Dropships and their own Pelican pilots' craft. The writing below now changed, reading HEAVY CASUALTIES:ARE THE DEAD BEING STOLEN BY THE AUTOMATA? only for murmurs to start. As music played, however, the Marines quieted each-other down and stared as images from within the News Channel's studio played, the futuristic-looking background slightly obscured by the beautiful red-haired woman sat at the desk. Her name was apparently Lorena McCoy.
Lorena, news anchor for the UNSC's Channel 7 news, began to speak, "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, I'm Lorena McCoy with Channel 7 News. As you're joining us tonight, our brave men and women fight alongside our newfound sibling nation's finest in the quagmire of a hellish world. The Super Earth Federation's request for assistance was answered almost two weeks ago by the UNSC Marine Corps and the Navy Task Groups transporting them. News from the front, however, seems almost dire. The Automaton War Machine does not fear, does not tire, does not concern itself with casualties it can just rebuild. It's what our forces have faced on the daily."
She sighed deeply, then said, "And in even more acts of brutality, what they do to both our peoples seems like further insult. Please, beware, you may find the images you are about to see disturbing," before turning to a screen. Though censored, the images of the Automaton Outposts containing men and women in cages, the operating tables and the various 'discarded' parts of humans, considered not necessary by the machines, dropped in bins. A few scoffs and murmurs of anger spread across the gathered UNSC members in the mess, while Lorena spoke grimly, "These grisly sights are being found all over Malevelon and other planets our most recent arriving fleets have reinforced."
The woman then leaned forward as her image reappeared on screen, the slideshow of censored, yet still gruesome imagery minimized to her left. She stared into the camera and spoke, "Currently, the reinforcements sent to assist on the front seem to be insufficient, with Malevelon rumored to be close to falling to the Automaton Armed Forces, though it is unknown how true these rumors are. Regardless, the Unified Earth Government's parliamentary session to decide on an expansion of intervention within the SEF's conflicts is ongoing and-" She paused and put her hand up to her ear, stating, "Stand by... We have breaking news, coming live from the government building in Sydney. The President is addressing the whole of the UEG after the vote was cast."
The BREAKING NEWS logo flashed on-screen. Then, came the President of the UEG's image, stood atop a podium, a desk with dozens of microphones in front of her and camera flashes lighting her glasses. She arranged said glasses onto the bow of her nose, then leaned toward the mics and began speaking softly, "Mister Vice President, miss Speaker, gathered representatives of the Colonial Administrations and ladies and gentlemen of the Press... Operation Enduring Security was started weeks ago to assist our newfound Human siblings, the Super Earth Federation, in maintaining their sovereignty against a hostile threat through training and limited intervention."
She remained dead-serious as she spoke, "I'm afraid that 'limited' interventionism has become insufficient..." which garnered a few gasps. Alessia and Farkas both straightened up, listening intently while the Marines and Navy personnel seemed to lock in. The President continued on, calm, but firm, "It has come to our attention, through connections with the UNSC's Military Intelligence branches, that several of our own people have been abducted and turned to Automaton troops..." and she waited for the gasps to pass, "One of which is on her way home to Earth as we speak for debriefing and... To see if we may do anything for her."
"This aggression, this horrific crime against our people, will not go unpunished. It is with this in mind that I have advised the Cabinet and all Governmental institutions to formally begin preparations. A direct, full and open declaration of War against the Automatons has been sent," Once more, she waited for the Crowds to calm down, then smiled, "... And the United Nations Space Command is being fully mobilized. While our Forces continue to rebuild and deal with remaining threats from Covenant Splinters, we have begun a program of rearmament to go along with this deployment."
She stated bluntly, much to the surprises of everyone, that, "Operation Enduring Security has been upgraded to a TIER ONE Operation. Full UNSC Military Intervention is guaranteed. Humanity is, once more, at war to protect our fellow man from the horrible threats that lay beyond the stars. We will fight, we will struggle and, together with our allies, we will prevail! May our men and women come home safe and may God have us in His watch as we take on this New Trial!"
The Marines and crew burst into cheers, raising high balled fists pridefully, hugging, high-fiving, bumping chests and cheering. Though, through the cheering, the two Helldivers could almost feel the underlying fury of the soldiers. They had managed to get some light stories out of Sergeant Johnson and his Marines about the Human-Covenant War, with hints of just how brutal it was.
To see a population and a military this galvanized and focused on the goal of defeating hostiles threatening their fellow man was terrifying, if not a little inspiring. Images of UNSC warships in their berths soon started to play as a sort of propaganda piece for the Troops and for the others just joining the broadcast from their home television as the headline THE UNSC STRIKES FIRST brightly glowing.
"Well, that's gonna be interesting," Mumbled Farkas as he watched images of youngsters moving through the streets of the UNSC's version of Earth next. They seemed to be holding signs, so that meant the UEG probably was holding support rallies for their warriors. He tilted his head to the Sergeant and the two started walking out. He told her, "Looks like we'll have a lot more allies coming in."
"More than just a couple ships per planet or per front, yessir," The Sergeant replied as they walked. They entered the hangar bay of the Cruiser, noticing Johnson and his Marines running laps around the place to stay physically fit. The Sergeant-Major snapped a salute at them as he passed by with his boys, then smirked, while the Marines behind him chorused the next line of a Marine cadence. She and Farkas saluted back.
"Deck crew's got a lot more pomp in their step, too," Farkas then observed, pointing at the crews maintaining the UNSC Dropships. They stopped as they saw marks of blood on the cracked window being removed form one Pelican and a dozen bullet holes spread across her hull. A body bag lay to the side of the vehicle, being closed up by a Marine after one of their Chaplains gave the man his Last Rites.
It was still an obvious mix of jubilation and fury amidst the UNSC. They'd lost much, Farkas figured. He sighed, turned about on his crutches and waved to Johnson. The man turned about, showing his platoon to take a break, before jogging up to him. The two men respectfully saluted each-other and Johnson asked, "What can I help ya with, Chief Farkas?"
"Any place where I can read the history of your Human-Covenant War? Me and the Master Sergeant are quite curious about it," The Chief inquired rather respectfully. Johnson nodded and pulled out his tablet, then handed it to them with all the briefing data they needed for at least a surface-level understanding of the larger Conflict of the Human-Covenant War. Farkas, a little stunned at the quick exchange of information, nodded and said, "Thanks, Sergeant..."
"Any time, chief. Figure you folks might as well know why humanity's eager to kick ass and take names alongside y'all..." Johnson nodded, then gave a pat and a quick salute to Alessia and Farkas respectively, before returning to his men to continue the training. The two Helldivers looked at one-another and decided to move to somewhere calm to read it. They found a nice little corner at the Hangar's side that they decided to use as cover and started reading.
In the meanwhile, UNSC SOCOM was already preparing another raid. Tomas watched UNSC soldiers clad in jet-black armor moving toward the rear of the warship and stopped one, asking, "What the hell are you guys? Never seen your type of Marine before..."
"We're ODSTs, 'Diver," The leading Trooper, a female, replied with a grin, "Droppin' feet first into hell, too..." which garnered a few noises of surprise from the surviving members of Black squad. Radomir gave a nod of approval, while Helena smiled a bright smile at them. Tomas gave a nod of approval and a salute to them, to which the leader gave a nod and another salute, donning her helmet and leading her company forward.
"If we're Helldivers, they gotta be Helljumpers," Joked Tomas as he checked and cleaned his recoilless, before pausing as his arm-mounted display lit up. He blanked, looked at it and said, "Uh... Someone get Sarge on the line. Eagle-1 just sent a message," and, as his two mates gathered around him, he read, "Moving to support UNSC element NOBLE, stop. Requested air support, stop... Huh. Fuck me, I guess she's out to help the guy who saved her."
"I'll let the Sarge know," Sighed Radomir.
Meanwhile, down below...
A bot dropship sped through the darkness of their rear line, carrying maybe a dozen Automatons of various sizes as they approached their next Landing Zone. A hostile unit had been harassing their supply lines in this Sector for the better part of the conflict with the newfound Humans that had allied with the Super Earth Scum. Whatever the unit was, it would be killed on sight or harvested.
Reaching the clearing where their LZ was, the platoon of Automatons dropped, led by a Commissar unit. Feet buried into the murky ground of the planetary quagmire, while their optical sensors scanned through the fog as they advanced in a staggered column. They had two Heavy Devastators with them, armed with autocannons and protected by a thick ballistic shield.
Troopers were expendable. Commissars were, too, though less so. Finally, Devastators had proven to be the least expendable if they were given armor. The platoon advanced down-range, weapons raised as they scanned the area for the hostile contact, which was supposedly a simple enemy soldier of some sort. Though if it was so simple, their units would not have lost an entire Company trying to hound it out of here.
Mattered little, the Automaton squad thought in unison, led by their Commissar. The enemy was a fleshbag, a person, a human. They died easily to anything that so much as scoffed at them. It wasn't going to be a problem. As the Automaton unit pushed further up the quagmire, parallel to a small Creek that ran through this Sector, they soon rendezvoused with about two more Platoons, now totaling up to sixty bots, ten of which were Devastators.
It made the search net wide. It also made it an easy target when the first few grenades dropped from the trees. Pinless, high-explosive and deadly, the pineapple-shaped bomblets fell by the dozen around the Automatons, causing their Commissars to bark orders to scatter. The explosives didn't roll, either. They fell into the mud, became half-buried like mines. When the Automatons scattered, some stepped on the mines.
They'd lost the first dozen in seconds. The 'highest-ranking' Commissar took a Knife to the face plate from thin air, staggering and collapsing as oil and blood mixed and spilled onto the already wet jungle floor below. The other Commissars soon followed, their bodies dropping with metallic thumps to the floor as the Automaton units retreated into defensive positions.
Their weapons began to bark, scarlet tracers lighting the void as arm cannons and rifles tore through the jungle. Melee Automata, including Berserkers, swung wildly, chopping through trees and foliage, only for some to be picked off from a distance by accurate rifle fire, the shots muffled by their own or bouncing off of the thick 'walls' of jungle surrounding the Commiebots.
The Devastators, more smart than their simpleton Trooper Brethren, formed a Phalanx, blocking bullets from striking the Automaton Troopers while the melee units surged forth, tracking and trying to triangulate the shots. They couldn't. The shooter was always moving and their opticals picked up only the dirt and mud being kicked up by that displacement. Even that was faint.
Two more grenades flew and a Heavy Devastator swung its shield down. The explosion caused shrapnel to embed itself into the mech's up-armored shield, but at least it wasn't firing anymore, nor was it aware of the Beacon that landed between it and its brothers. The drone of a jet engine filled the air, followed by flares being dumped in a reverse arc as the aircraft moved up. A dozen bombs embedded themselves around the Automaton units.
Detonating in a chain, they destroyed several more bots, including a trio of Devastators. One Heavy lost its shield arm, while another lost its cannon. The two units decided to cooperate with each-other, damaged as they were. One of their surviving siblings stumbled forward and its foot disassembled, causing it to fall onto the floor. Not before its head exploded like a fireball, however, as a loud, thundering crack rang out.
It wasn't long after that a shadow surged forward into the crowd of confused, damaged machines. Utilizing the corpse of one of their comrades as a springboard, the cloaked figure jumped up, decloaked as it drew a pistol and put two rounds into the head of another of the Devastators. The two heavily damaged ones turned, one shielding the other as it fired, but were too slow.
Bursts of fire narrowly missed the agile figure as it moved through the crowd of machines, cutting them down in swathes, only to finally come down upon them with pistol and knife drawn. Clambering onto the body of the autocannon machine like a blur, the human put his pistol to its head and shot it, exploding its head in a shower of tin, metal and brain matter, before jumping back and throwing a strange new grenade at its comrade.
When it stuck and clung to its armor, the machine seemingly had a moment to panic. It wasn't long after, however, that the plasma detonation enveloped the machine, boiling away its armor and the brain within the tin cover. The machine collapsed, half-gone due to the plasma grenade. Sat amidst the crowd of dead Automata now, the figure resolved into a Spartan supersoldier.
Six dropped the spent magazine from his pistol and slammed in a fresh one, holstered the gun and changed the mag in his DMR as well, then slid that onto his back. He whistled loudly, watching his motion tracker as the crowd of civilians and SEAF Infantry slowly marched out from amidst the trees, stunned. Putting his hand up to his ear to activate his com, he spoke, "Thanks for the air support, Eagle One. Keep on-station in case I'll need more to get your Civvies out."
"Roger, loud and clear, Noble Six. I got the skies," Eagle replied jovially. The Spartan hummed approvingly, then drew his rifle and showed the Civilians to follow him. The SEAF Officer leading the group nodded, then waved everyone forward with his hand. He cradled a beaten and battered Liberator, paint chipping and barrel nearly dulled as he walked with the Spartan.
None dared question a damn thing about the soldier, who was more machine than man from the looks, as he lead them past the shattered remains of the Machines trying to kill them. Malevelon might've been a lost cause in the eyes of every single Marine and sane soldier in the AO, but that didn't mean the Civilians would have to be that way. Walking through the muck, through the darkness, behind enemy lines to a SEAF base that was still holding on was gonna be problematic, but they could do it. Six thought they could, anyway.
He stopped the group nearby a battlefield and chopped his hand forward. Two SEAF Soldiers, each armed with Liberators in various stages of damage, took positions where the Spartan had pointed out. They soon noticed that the corpses of SEAF infantry lay there, dark-grey camouflage uniforms melding with the darkness of Malevelon's dirt. He tapped their leader on the shoulder and said, "Gather as much ammunition as you can and any medical supplies you can find before we move."
"Understood," The man replied, then moved forward and spoke, "Carlos, Patterson, police the bodies, grab ammo, supplies, medicine, anything you can haul. We're gonna need it for the trek to the evac site..." before he walked up to join the Spartan at the front. He asked, "... Are UNSC Special Forces usually geared up like you, Lieutenant...?" as he examined the man.
"Most of the time," The Spartan replied, scanning the treeline still. The SEAF officer waited for the Spartan to continue his train of thought, but nothing else came of the conversation. Instead, the group pushed forward with the Civvies in tow. Parents were even carrying children on their backs, away from the Bots. Some kids walked, though. As the group moved to the Evac Site, the Spartan radioed, "This is Noble Six, Sierra Beta 312. ETA to evacuation site is five minutes. Any available air asset in the AO is to respond, priority order NAMBU. All other objectives Behind Enemy Lines are secondary."
He sighed, listening to encrypted replies to his encrypted message sent on an encrypted frequency. God, he hated this type of crap. There was a reason he'd wanted to stay with the regular footsloggers after Reach. It was better than going toe-to-toe with the enemy alone behind their own lines. As they stopped again to guide themselves to the LZ, he felt a tap on his leg.
Looking down, he saw a young boy, maybe seven years of age, staring up at him. The boy stared up at him, face dirtied by the mud, much like his clothes. The Spartan knelt down, though he still towered over the young boy. He asked, "Where are your parents?" almost hesitant. The young man pointed back the way they came. Six knew he'd counted all the surviving Civilians he found in that camp, so that meant... Oh. He looked at the boy again, a small apology hidden behind his semi-stoic face.
"... Are we gonna go home...?" He asked, his innocent eyes staring the Spartan right in the visor. Six's lips became razor thin behind his helmet. He took it off, sliding it under his arm, then stared the young man in the eye properly, his own blue eyes slightly wider than normal. He couldn't answer it properly, though, instead simply letting out a breath and patting the young kid on the head while nodding.
The boy smiled for a moment, but Six could tell he'd seen enough. Sighing, the Spartan gave him a gentle boop on the nose that got a short giggle, then stood up. He smiled at the boy, then slid his helmet back on and drew his weapon again, motioning for the team to move out and ignoring the stares. He heard Eagle-1 quip, "Saw you comforting that kiddo through my targeting pod. That was nice of you..."
He turned off his helmet's external speakers and replied to the pilot, "Any more targets?" as if to avoid the discussion. She chuckled, then simply replied with a sound that would normally translate to a 'no'. Six left it at that as they strode forward another klick through the forest, past damaged and destroyed enemy outposts he'd taken out and toward the sole remaining LZ this deep in the Sector.
About a dozen SEAF Soldiers guarded a concrete fortress built within the place. A singular Hellbomb lay in the middle as a final Fuck You to the Bots should they seize it. Piles of spent casings lay on the metal platforms, too, with three rows of six bodybags each laying in the muck. The officer in charge of the unit saluted the group and said to Six, "One of your Gunships just called in. They'll be landing soon, then we can all finally get the fuck out of here..."
Six nodded, then set himself up on one of the turrets, noting the radio mast to his right still flickering... And lined with explosives at the base.
Thankfully, however, nothing else moved in to attack them. The distant drumbeat of the Front Lines growing ever quieter told them all they needed to know. The Trooper that had greeted Six with one of their standard Super Earth salutes asked, "Where'd you find all these people?" as he motioned to the crowd of almost forty people sat on the metal landing pad.
"Colony Site C2..." Six replied calmly. The man winced.
"Mining... Yikes," He sighed, "Well, they're safe now..." and the group watched the dark-green Pelican gunship touch down. Six huffed in affirmation, then didn't say another word as he watched them board. The young boy turned to face Six, cradling his plushy toy, then waved. The Spartan then waved back while the Co-Pilot of the Pelican dropped him supplies. Against the protests of the crowd, the Spartan took food, water and ammunition and left once again, much to Eagle-1's surprise...
He'd leave Malevelon when his job was done.