Above the world of Victoria, Londinium System.
UNSC Battlegroup Serene
06:00 hours, October 8th, 2552, Standard UNSC Military Calendar
"Talon Eighteen-Actual to all air wing assets. RTB. Command wants us jumping out to join the Home Fleet ASAP."
Six UNSC Longswords trailed behind their squadron leader, forming a chevron as they angled toward their mothership. Gigantic, bulky and heavily armored, the Epoch-class carrier followed the general design structure of the United Nations Space Command's naval forces. Mothership to the Battlegroup which she was the namesake of, the UNSC Serene Mind was moored alongside her escort and two other sister ships in geosynchronous orbit to the small colony's capital. The old ship still had deep markings, plasma scoring, left in her armor plate.
Alongside her sat two Phoenix-class support vessels refit for deployment in and assistance of ground operations, each of them carrying a complement of at least six thousand Marines and two thousand Army Personnel for a total of eight thousand active military each. The Phoenix-class ships, once proud colonizers standing at around two thousand five hundred meters of length, stood alongside the carriers of the UNSC Battle Group as transports for the necessary complement believed to be needed in defense of Earth.
Six frigates, eight Gladius corvettes and two Marathon-class cruisers completed the battlegroup, each carrying their own complement of Marines, ODSTs and Army personnel. The pilots moved in for landing aboard the Serene, watching as the deck crews mobilized down below them in the massive hangars of the escort carrier. Heavy machinery operated on the deck, stowing ammunition and supplies into their specific spots.
Upon touching down, the Pilots disembarked and formed up, heading for their barracks, past the many moving pieces of the active flight deck of the vessel. Watching from above, within one of the two traffic control rooms, the captain of the Serene listened to the filtered, muffled radio chatter of the controllers' headsets. He looked over to the last three fighters as they touched down aboard the vessel, then turned to leave.
Exiting into one of the many reinforced corridors of the ship, the man walked past maintenance crews still working on some of the minor kinks and issues of the vessel, some of which included lighting. Looking up at the recessed lights in the ceiling, only one out of every five was on due to the drainage of power sustained from the newly-installed Shaw-Fujikawa translight drive and the damage they'd received on their jump-out.
The Serene Mind had seen combat at and barely escaped Reach alive, having taken two of the Covenant's lighter vessels out of action via the use of her MAC Gun. She had the scars on her outside to prove it, with the wounded crew roster to match. The new fighters that had just arrived, part of Talon squadron, were their replacement pilots for the ones lost during that battle.
Captain Michel Ambroz was a hardy man. Forty-six years of age, he'd had his first taste of combat against the Covenant during the Harvest campaigns, when he was nothing but a youngster, fresh out of boot. To him, fighting the Covenant came as a sort of second nature, seeing as he fought for the survival of mankind in the face of a genocidal empire. To him, it'd become the standard Tuesday to go about fighting Covvies...
Still, that the UNSC saw fit to redeploy their closest fleets to Earth, to bolster the Home Fleet... It was unsettling.
Forty-six years of age and looking fit as a fiddle, the man of Czech descent had salt-and-pepper hair and a thick, bushy beard that he'd let grow more out of carelessness than anything. His eyes glowed emerald in the dim lights of the damaged hallways as he watched the new crew filtering into the ship via the main bulkhead doors and the airlocks. Young officers, people he would have to call family, in lieu of the ones he'd already lost. While generally unprofessional as all hell off-duty, the man commanded the respect of even those who didn't know him by his looks alone. His dress whites were clean, spotless, save for the left of his chest, which shined gold.
Pinned on the left of his uniform's chest, a Purple Heart, a Legion of Merit and even a Colonial Cross, among other things, such as campaign ribbons. Several of the new crew, UNSC Navy Officers, both the youth and some of the veterans, cleared a path and quickly assumed the position of attention, saluting their superior. He saluted them back quickly and dismissively, still hurrying to the bridge. They were more meat for the grinder, sadly.
The faint rumble of engines echoed through the hull of the ship as he took a left toward a series of elevators. Rifling through the left pocket of his uniform jacket, he found an antique gold pocket watch which he opened. It was now seven hundred hours, local, in the city of New Prague on Earth. Their intended departure time from the colony of Victoria. He'd told his crew that they were free to begin departure procedures alongside the rest of the fleet even if he were to arrive late.
Taking another right after reaching level 05 of the Ship, the man entered the large, occupied bridge of the UNSC Vessel. In the middle, a holographic table displayed a three-dimensional image of the UNSC Battle Group's disposition, as well as the active communication between them. To the right and left were several consoles aligned in rows and on two levels, while near the front of the ship, there was the gunnery station for the MAC and a holographic display off to the right, on which a shimmering avatar, one of a Grim Reaper, stood, a tiny fairy.
The bridge was busy, active. Many of the crew registered the captain's arrival on-deck and those that did, saluted. He motioned to the rest to sit down, before approaching the 'Smart' AI that was on the holo-pedestal. He inquired in a heavily-accented voice, "Charon, status of the fleet?" as he watched the rest of the crew going about their jobs, running to and from stations and talking.
"All in the green, sir," The amorphous, genderless AI spoke, its voice uneven, ethereal, "Admiral Nakano is on the line for you."
"Patch her through," The man ordered.
One of the two screens that hanged overhead turned on, revealing the petite form of a middle-aged female of Asian descent. Old, brown eyes stared at the captain as she pushed locks of her own graying hair out of her face and under her peaked cap. She spoke, "Captain. Good to see you're finally awake," her voice soft, almost motherly, although still carrying an air of authority.
He saluted, "Ma'am. The fleet is ready to depart on your orders."
"Good," She nodded, saluting back, "At ease, Captain."
The man scanned the fifty-something-year-old Admiral's face. Below her left eye lay a burn mark that went all the way down to her chin, a relic of a close call with a Covenant plasma weapon while she was being evacuated off of Reach. Her gaze was steely, focused and piercing, even to the veteran captain. Admiral Eiko Nakano had seen twice as many battles as him and even fought the Insurrection for a few years before finally deciding to fully focus her efforts on the Covenant. She was the new commander of the Battle Group after their last had sadly been deposed via a single plasma beam to the bridge of his Cruiser.
"We should be arriving above Earth within the week, Captain. I hope you'll be on your best behavior in front of Lord Hood and what's left of HighCom..." She quipped, causing the burly old man to chuckle, though his gruff voice made it sound more like a growl. "Charon, patch me through to the fleet," She then ordered as she typed in a few lines on her own personal console.
"Already done, ma'am," The AI replied, focused on other matters.
She nodded, then spoke, "All ships, this is Admiral Nakano speaking. We will shortly enter Slipspace toward our homeworld, Earth. Let there be no mistake that our operations here could be the be-all, end-all to Humanity's survival. Command is aware of what has occurred on Reach. They do not want a repeat of it on our own home planet. Stay frosty and be ready for anything as we make the one-week trip home. Nakano, out."
The com system was shut off by Charon and the Admiral gave a nod to the Captain before shutting off her screen. The Czech hummed, then murmured to himself "Ray of sunshine, she is not..." before hitting the PA button to transmit on the shipwide net and spoke loudly and clearly, "All crew, this is Captain Ambroz. Prepare for immediate FTL. Secure all bulkheads and stand by for transfer. Helm, at flank speed, maintain position alongside the rest of the Battle Group."
Ahead, the windows of the ship were soon covered by an extra layer of Titanium-A plating in the form or extending bulkheads. The ship's holographic display screens then winked to life, showing the outside through the exterior cameras. The faint white light of the system's distant star disappeared from view as the dozen vessels burned to exit the planet's gravity field.
"Curious..." Charon spoke as he pulled up a diagnostics screen on the holo next to the Captain, "Minor fluctuations in the Shaw-Fujikawa core, sir."
"Is it bad, Charon?" The man asked with slight disinterest.
"Negative. The drive is still operating within nominal parameters. Checking maintenance... It was properly installed, no chance of backfire," The AI offered, then added with a hum, "... Fluctuations are gone. Systems back to normal operational parameters..."
"Weird, but it is a newer drive, probably has some of the newest technology added onto it," The Captain observed, sitting himself down in his own command chair, "Maintain course and link us with the other vessels so we can jump at the same time, Charon."
"Yes, sir," The AI replied as he ran diagnostics. The captain leaned back into his chair, watching as one of the Ensigns brought coffee into the place. She handed the man a cup, then waltzed off to give a few to the dozen others who hadn't had their morning brew after she was thanked and dismissed by the man. As some moments passed and the ships moved past the point of egress from the planet's gravity field into deep space, space ahead began to warp and distort.
A whirlpool of energy formed at the bow of the Carrier, a giant one, big enough to fit the entire battle-group in the maw that seemed to open. The tear in realspace was unstable, arcing with lightning and electricity as it spun and weaved. A black void then formed in its center, an abyss into which the Captain had stared plenty of times before. Still, his heart sank, his stomach a pit.
Something didn't feel right...
As the ships each vanished into the unwitting, dark void that led into the tear so brutally torn in real-space, the Captain felt himself weak at the knees. A sense of dread overtook him as he heard what felt like the wails of the damned. Distant, the rippling screams of a thousand souls played back in his mind. The faintest trace of red appeared in the corner of his eye, followed by a call...
... Then all was silence...
No. Not silence. The Captain had closed his eyes and, apparently, managed to shut off his hearing, too. Slowly, the man blinked as the nausea of a botched transfer through Slipspace made itself known. He gagged, then swallowed the bitter bile, before demanding, "What the hell happened...?!" His voice barely audible thanks to the ringing that grew louder by the second.
"Captain!" He heard a woman call, distant. Blinking, he found his vision blurry, but he could still make out shapes. And the one before him? It was admiral Nakano. She spoke again, "Good to know you're alive, Captain," her voice slightly concerned. He straightened up, blinking repeatedly until the blur cleared. He saw her face clearly, much like some of the exploded consoles and the damage the bridge had sustained.
"... What happened...?" He asked, eyes wide as he looked at a Corpsman working to revive the same ensign that had brought him coffee.
"Transfer failure..." The woman replied, "A chain reaction of some kind, caused by an error in one of the jump calculations."
"Charon...?" he asked, almost out of breath.
"It wasn't him. It appears the Slipspace drive of the Serene was the cause of the transfer failure. When she made the jump activation sequence, some number in the new drive's computer went haywire... Caused all of this," The woman explained, then looked him over. She said, "Minor casualties across the board, mostly injuries..." then looked grimly to the girl that was being revived by the medics and said again, more somber, "Mostly... Our equipment hasn't been damaged and the Marines report a few bumps and bruises, but several major shipboard systems will need some time before they're fully rebooted across the board. Life Support remains online thanks to auxiliary power."
"How long are we talking?" He seemed unsteady.
"At most, six hours... Charon is top priority for reawakening, then the reactor, then engines," She added, then stood up and looked out toward the windows of the ship. Undamaged by the jump, the now-open windows gave a clear view of the mess ahead. The fleet itself was floating aimlessly in the void. Eyes wide, the Captain stared forward at the unrecognizable stars in the void, before his gaze swept down to the right.
"We appeared over a planet..." He whispered. A flickering emerald-blue orb sat below them. Multiple continents, blue water and a surface washed by the white light of a star that was behind them. They'd appeared right on its equator and could clearly see some signs of habitation in the form of faint lights near the edges of the twilight zone. The continents looked... Familiar, almost...
"Yes," She nodded, "One we cannot get readings on due to the scanners being offline."
"... Is it not Earth?" He asked.
"Does not seem like it. We'd have been greeted by UNSC fleets the moment we exited Slipspace..." She replied, "Whatever it is, we'll have to wait until our systems are back online to get a clear picture."
"You said our Marines are fine, right?" He inquired, standing up slowly. The nausea immediately seemed to get worse, even as the woman gave a nod of confirmation. He looked to her, then said "Can we get a flight of Pelicans prepared as soon as our sensors are back online and we have a picture of the situation on the ground...? I want eyes on ASAP."
"I took the liberty of relaying the same thought to the engineers," The Admiral grinned, "We'll have eyes in two hours, Captain. Great minds do think alike."
"I appreciate the compliment, ma'am," He said, then covered his mouth as he felt himself gag again, "But I'm just trying to figure myself out here, still... Head's spinning all ways to Sunday..."
"I understand that feeling, Captain..." She smirked, then unsteadily stepped away. She spoke, "I'll be overseeing repairs to the main systems and the FTL... Do call me once we have sensors and com systems back online..." before the door shut closed, powered by the auxiliary systems which kept emergency lighting on, bathing the CIC in scarlet light. He rubbed his temples as a migraine seemed to hit, looking over the azure globe below them with his own curiosity piqued by the strange, familiar-looking globe ahead of them.
It was not Earth, that much was clear. While the continents gave off the faintest vibe of it being similar, it was nowhere near that apparently alike. A second glance and the Captain saw the difference in everything, including the arrangement of mountains and the likes. It was not Earth, barely qualified as 'remotely close' to it. He sighed, striding forth down the halls and back to the bridge of the vessel after a thorough checkup.
The hallways were still a mighty big mess, with loose panels, wiring falling from the ceiling and the non-wounded engineers cleaning it up as best as they could. That they didn't suffer any collisions or lose any actual vessels was a miracle in and of itself. The hangars were also relatively untouched, save for an overturned Warthog here and a tilted Pelican there, so that eased the Captain. The situation of the other vessels in the battle-group was much the same. The crews were all active, including the Marines.
Entering the bridge, the Captain caught sight of Charon already coordinating with the other vessels in the fleet at the holotable. Approaching the AI, he spoke, "Status report... And good to see you awake, Charon."
"I am glad to be here, sir," The AI replied, then stated, "Systems are operating nominally. Six hours of preliminary repairs completed, FTL Drive disengaged and disconnected while we run diagnostics. Admiral Nakano has already taken the liberty of requesting multiple Reconnaissance teams on the planet after we've completed initial scans. If you wish to see a report while the drop ships are being prepared, sir..."
"Please," He spoke softly.
As a topographical three-dimensional view of one of the scanned areas formed below, the AI was quick to explain, "Planetary data:Oxygen-Nitrogen Atmosphere, capable of sustaining life. Large landmasses. About One-point-one times the size of the Earth in diameter. Multiple settlements exist on the planet and we're reading multiple massive energy signatures in the wider main continent here..." The AI then switched over to a two-dimensional cutaway of the continent, showing the multitude of settlements, each arrayed in multiple corners of the place. The AI then continued, "The massive power sources we're detecting are also obscured... Preliminary scans cannot tell by what."
"I see," The Captain hummed, "Did the Admiral mention where we are going to be deploying forces?"
Multiple red dots winked on. Six in total, for six squads being deployed across a multitude of areas around ten kilometers away from each-other. He raised a brow, then inquired, "And the Admiral is...?"
"Here..." She replied just as the door hissed open, "Good afternoon, or... Evening, I guess, Captain..." And she approached the table. The two looked at one-another for a moment, then the Admiral spoke, "Our troops should be ready for deployment within these sectors, as per both our requests. They look good to you, Captain, or should we revise them now?"
"They're fine, ma'am... I just wish they weren't so far apart, just in case a team needs to reinforce the other," He shrugged.
"I understand," She replied, "We'll have the pilots maintain orbit around the teams and retrieve them to reinforce the others if the need arises. We want to avoid meeting the locals just yet, considering they exist."
"A sound plan," The Captain remarked, "Let's have our forces get to it..."
"Major Volkov and his Company are awaiting orders, sir, ma'am," The AI offered, before arranging its cloak and patching through the two officers to the Shock Troopers currently awaiting the order to launch on the flight deck. Major Kolya Volkov was a man born out of one of the many Russian settlers on the world of Reach and, like almost all of his ancestors and even his parents, he had been a military man from the moment he could enlist. At thirty-three years of age, Major Volkov was one of the most elite ODSTs to ever grace the Battlegroup and the unit he was commanding were no slackers either.
Serene Mind Hangar. Pelican, callsign:Phantom Actual.
Survivors of the campaigns of Chi Ceti IV and Reach, not to mention a myriad other smaller engagements against both the Covenant and the Insurrection, the 322nd Orbital Drop Shock Division's 7th Battalion was a conglomerate of Veterans and top-of-the-class elite ODSTs that got out of Drop School with their wings and with fewer broken bones and rusty ankles than most in the Division.
The Major looked over his own team. Assignment to the sixth sector for Recon meant little to the hard-boiled Shock Troopers. It was a routine milk run to them to do reconnaissance, one helluva break. The man listened in as static cut into the conversations of those present aboard the Pelican, before resolving into the voice of the Admiral. She spoke calmly, "Seventh Battalion. Glad to have you awake and alert."
"Glad to be here, ma'am," Replied the Battalion, the Major's accent the thickest out of the lot.
"Heh. Roger that," She replied, then switched to her more serious voice, "Considering the current situation that we find ourselves in, including the issue with our FTL drive, I and the good Captain have seen fit to deploy you and your force as our forward scouts for the planet below. Be advised, we have detected active links, faint radio signals and even working settlements on the planet. You will be deploying at night in a no-man's-land. We are unaware of the current situation on the planet, so be ready for anything. We will provide whatever data we can once secondary and tertiary scans are complete... If you're even boots-on-the-ground that long."
"We're locked and loaded, ma'am. The Pelicans are also armed with thirty-mikes and missiles, in case things go awry," The Major replied calmly as he racked the bolt of his MA5, feeding a round into the chamber. He then quipped, "If there's something evil on the planet below, we'll deal with it like we deal with the Covvies. Shoot it in the face, ask questions never."
A few chuckles escaped the lips of his comrades. The Admiral said calmly, "Good to know, Major. Watch yourselves out there and remain in radio contact. The Pelicans will be standing by to pick you and your teams up, should the situation require it, so you can either exfil or reinforce one-another. If you encounter any resistance, do not hesitate to radio for support."
"Understood," The Major replied, watching as information streamed onto his HUD, including his team's callsign and the callsigns of the birds. He stated, "Phoenix Actual, out," then ordered to the pilots, "Phantom Flight, Phoenix Actual. Let's take off. Drop us at our target coords and prepare to orbit for the duration of our scouting operation. Over and out..." before he felt the aircraft accelerate.
Exiting the hangars, the aircraft banked a hard left and began the descent toward the planet at full burn. As the aircraft narrowed the distance between them and the planet's surface, they entered the atmosphere. At first, wisps of fire lit the ship's outside as she and her sisters broke through the upper atmosphere. Then, flames enveloped the outer hull, charring the exterior of the sealed drop-ships and somewhat heating the insides.
As they descended, one of the Major's team began to hum a rather alert song, that another pair of her comrades answered by singing. It was an old military song from the Earth country of Poland. Many of the people in the fleet were either inhabitants of Earth, or were descendants of first generation immigrants from Earth to the colonies, meaning they were aware of some of the countries and habits on the planet.
The song itself was called 'Hey, ladies, listen!', as per translation.
A song about recruitment of females in the Military. Ah, the 1900s, when a woman doing a man's job was still considered taboo across almost the whole-ass world. It was a funny thing to think about, especially for soldiers like the one singing. One Corporal Agnieszka Nowak, of Reach. Twenty-five years of age and one helluva beauty hidden behind her helmet, the girl was quite the peppy one, happy to actively serve alongside the lads and ladies of the fine ODSTs, even after Reach itself was no more. She'd moped for a bit before getting right back to work.
Some minutes passed as they went through the turbulence of the atmosphere. The sudden deceleration of the Drop Ships rattled the ODSTs a bit, but they became aware of the ship's change in pitch, meaning they levelled off parallel to the ground. Radio calls filtered into the com of the ODSTs. The pilots spoke among one-another, with theirs stating, "Phantom-1 to all Phantom craft, break off and pursue your own LZs. Godspeed. One, out."
"All Phoenix elements, this is Actual. I don't think I need to repeat the necessity of keeping in radio contact. ROE remains the same, anything hostile is to be shot at with extreme prejudice. Let's all get back home safe. Lock and load and we'll see each-other after the scout op. Actual out," He spoke, then leaned his MA5 against his shoulder and thumbed the safety to 'off'. The others on board his Pelican followed suit, feeding rounds into the chambers of their weapons, which included a GPMG and a Sniper.
"Major?" The team Sergeant, another guy about Agnieszka's age, asked.
"Yes, Sergeant Horvat?" The bear-like old Russian looked to his comrade, his visor depolarized. The officer was ancient, even to some of his most elite. Though it was unseen thanks to the helmet, his buzzcut grey hair perfectly complimented his pale, wrinkled face and the thick, bushy mustache that he had. Both components of his hair were trimmed to perfection. A pair of sunken azure eyes stared at the promising young NCO with a combination of regret and seriousness.
"Is nobody else wondering what the hell got us here?" He asked, worried.
"An FTL malfunction, Sarge," Another soldier replied, "Least that's the word I heard from the engineers before they rallied us up on the gunships."
"Hope they fix it soon. Six hours spent in the middle of nowhere is six hours too much." The man stated, seemingly uneasy.
"We'll be fine," Offered the Major as he polarized his visor. The lights in the 'Blood Tray', the rear transport area of the Pelican, dimmed, before several strips above the chairs lit up red. The ODST Major ordered, "Red light. Prep for deployment," and undid the harness that had kept him in place. His comrades readied up, too, removing the metallic harnesses meant to keep them in place during atmospheric entry.
The ODSTs stood up as the pilot began decelerating. A low whistle escaped the man's mouth and he said, "You folks ain't gonna believe this shit..." in an almost reverent whisper. The ODSTs didn't need to believe anything right now. They needed to get this RECON op done and dusted so they could go back to the ship and wait transfer back to Earth via Slip jump.
The ODSTs felt the aircraft touch down on its hind legs, hearing the metallic clang so familiar to them. The rear door then opened, with the light strips flashing green, signaling the ODSTs to disembark. The squad quickly left the transport, weapons at the ready. The team scattered and formed a perimeter around the exit to the blood tray, with each of them gasping as they laid eyes on the world outside.
The Major was the last one out, his MA5 at the ready. He and his entire team found themselves in the middle of what was once a town square of some kind, he now saw. Paved roads all converged into the central point where they'd landed, with small patches of dirt that would clearly have been gardens of flowers in the earlier days resting in the spaces between the four pathways. Each of the four pathways was seemingly aligned with a cardinal point, but each led, all the same, into the ruins ahead.
The skyline of the city ahead of them was desolate. Ruined buildings with entire chunks of concrete and stone ripped off, bullet holes in the walls of several of the closest apartment blocks, destroyed vehicles littering the roads and masses of gathered trash and debris. Yet, to that effect, there were no human skeletons, no signs of actual habitation. The Major knew the place had been built by humans. It was all too familiar to be anything else but a city.
"Christ..." Agnieszka murmured, "What happened to this place?"
"Looks like a war took place... Look at the damage..." Another Trooper, Todd, noted.
"VISRs on. Phantom Actual, take off and remain close," He ordered. The Pelican's pilot gave an affirmative answer as jet-wash kicked up dust. The Pelican lifted off, revving the 30mm Chaingun that had been retrofitted into its nose. The Blood Tray's access door had also closed as the bird lifted off and headed for higher altitude. With a motion of his hand, the Major ordered fort his team.
"I'll keep an eye open from the sky, Phoenix. Take care. Phantom, out..."
Powering on his VISR system, he watched as the world around him turned from a dark, moonless night into a plethora of green-tinted forms and shapes. On his troopers were the green lines that denoted them as Friendlies on the IFF, each with their names, ranks and personal information showing up on the right-hand side in small, almost unnoticeable windows.
The Major let Agnieszka take point with the team's heavy weapon specialists, one of which carried the 50cal GPMG they were assigned while the other had his MA5 and his rocket launcher. Two more ODSTs hauled Battle Rifles, two others DMRs. The rest of the ten-man fireteam hauled MA5 ARs, save for the Sniper. As the group advanced in an uneven wedge, with the Major, Lieutenant and Sergeant bringing up the rear, they looked around.
The place bore an eerie familiarity to the cities of Reach and other worlds burned by the Covenant. The rubble, the destroyed vehicles, the marks of combat, all told them, however, that whatever happened here was done with projectile armaments instead of plasma or other energy-based kit. The markings on the walls weren't scorches or carbon scoring from the overheated gas slamming into the concrete, nor were they pinpoint accurate holes left by focused lasers.
The holes were messy, large. Like someone had spent six boxes of fifty-caliber ammo on the buildings surrounding the town square alone. Maybe even larger calibers, like twenty mike-mikes or even thirties. Some of the buildings outright had collapsed corners, enough that one could see the insides of the apartments, all dusty and damaged, but clearly lived-in once.
The team approached one of the bigger buildings as the Major reported, "Captain, Admiral, we're boots-on-the-ground..."
"Glad to hear you landed safely, Phoenix Actual. All other Phoenix teams reported they have made it to their operational areas as well." The Admiral spoke pleasantly to the men, "What do you see down there, Major?"
"I can link my helmet camera to transmit directly to the Serene. Give you a picture from the ground," He stated, taking point and raising a balled fist. His team took a knee, each aiming their weapons in different directions to cover as many angles as possible.
"We'd appreciate LoS."
All the confirmation the man needed. Flicking a switch on the side of his helmet and activating a specialized transmit system, the man patched his visuals through to the ship. At the sight of the destroyed cityscape around the soldiers, all the woman could say was, "God..." before ordering a more conservative, "... Proceed with the scout op, Major... Keep your helmet cam on, please. Make it slow and methodical..."
He nodded, then turned back to his team and ordered them inside. The building was large, a six-story apartment block of some kind, with its facade destroyed by the combat that'd taken place here. The troopers crept forward, their boots crushing the opaque, dirty glass that had once been the windows of the blown-out building. Entering, the team found themselves inside a lobby. Two destroyed vending machines sat in an indent against the wall to the right, opposite the main desk and counter. Behind said counter were overturned chairs, dirty, trampled papers and heavily damaged flooring. Even the counter itself had had holes drilled into it by high-caliber ammo.
He saw Corporal Agnieszka cringe as her foot met an aluminum can on the floor. The noise was, however, far less loud than expected, probably because the can had been trampled before. It was also missing a chunk of the aluminum, a round having hit it. Several more cans also lay scattered on the floor, both opened and unopened, sign of the former inhabitants.
"Lot of trash, no bodies," Agnieszka observed as she stopped near the corner of the hallway up ahead, "Think whoever lived here managed to get the corpses out for burial, Major?" She then asked as she peeked around the corner, then turned to him. He shrugged as he scanned the alcove in which the destroyed machines lay with his gun raised. He then looked to Agnieszka again and she said, "Elevator shafts here. Doors half-opened... Lot of damage."
"We're taking the stairs, then," Sighed the Major. He looked to his left, at the Sniper-Spotter duo of the squad, and ordered, "Polatlyi, Ionescu, go with corporal Nowak. Check the second floor. Sergeant, Lieutenant, take whoever you want as a third pair of eyes and see if there's a basement to this place. Maybe there were survivors down below... Everyone else, with me. We secure this floor, then move to join up with the Corporal and scour the rest of this place. Maintain radio contact."
Without hesitation, just a creeping sense of loneliness and something being awfully fucking wrong, the soldiers executed their orders, divvying up to scout out their assigned floors. The Major slung his Assault Rifle onto his back and on the mag-lock on his armor before sidestepping the destroyed counter and searching behind it. Chunks of sheet metal and shrapnel had struck what looked to be old desktop units, now unusable, perhaps even salvaged if the missing parts inside were anything to go by.
He leaned forward, then removed the solid state drive of one of the machines, sliding it into his backpack as the rest of the squad continued to look around. Standing up, he gave three separate hand motions to the rest of the unit and proceeded out from behind the counter, almost tripping on an overturned office chair. In his ears, the faint sound of air raid sirens rang, a distant memory of battles fought and cities burned.
The troops moved down the hallway with the Major in the lead, passing into the residential bit of the first floor. All doors were either open, blasted apart or outright missing, ripped from their hinges. An ODST poked his head in through the door of one of the apartments and found it a single-room mess, its bed destroyed and dust and cobwebs forming everywhere. The kitchen counters lay littered with uncleaned dishes, by now filled with sickening green mold.
"Place has been abandoned for a while..." Remarked the Trooper. He caught a whiff through his helmet's unsealed filter, then retched and said, "Fuck, it even smells..."
The Major sighed, lowering his rifle as they reached the last of the units and the hall's end. Just like the first apartment scouted, most of the place was completely empty, abandoned, as if the people inside had left in a hurry. Combined with the sight of holes drilled in the walls by explosive ammunition and the rubble and debris laying both in and outside the building, it was clear a battle had gone on here.
"Entire families could've lived in that block alone... Not one corpse?" The Captain remarked sullenly.
"Perhaps it is as was said, sir. The former inhabitants may have been able to retrieve their dead," Charon tried to reassure the man, "Or many may have escaped."
"One Actual, One Two," The Lieutenant's voice, that of an older woman, filtered into com.
"Two, Actual. Go ahead," The Major replied as he entered the single-room apartment and looked around. He stopped in front of the bed, taking a knee in front of it and lifting something off the dusty, rubble-filled ground of the apartment. Two of the ODSTs saw it was a little, white plush bear with silver 'eyes' and a pink ribbon. It had been torn partially by the gunfire that must've hit this building, missing its left arm and leg. At the far end, where the exit to the balcony of the apartment would've been, there was a massive hole and a mountain of rubble.
"Basement clear. We're coming up. You still on the first floor?"
"Affirm, Two. Rally up with us at the end of the hall," The man spoke, a hint of dismay in his voice. He set the bear back down, then stood to his feet and balled his fist. His section formed up with him, their footsteps and the rattle of their gear, the only audible statement to this city having a new presence. Their footsteps had left markings in the caked-on dust from the rubble and debris as they walked back to meet with the Lieutenant and Sergeant and their escort.
"Major, sir," The trio nodded.
"Basement was less FUBAR than this entire place... Strange thing is, we found no signs of bunkers or fallout shelters," The Lieutenant stated, "No corpses or anything down there, either."
"This is just weird," Voiced the GPMG carrier, one private Sturgeon, "The hell kind of war leaves not even a skeleton, sir?"
"I don't think we want to find out the answer to that one, private... Let's go meet the Corporal and the others upstairs," The Major ordered, taking the lead once more. The troopers trailed behind him in a staggered line, covering each sector with their rifles. On the second floor, they were met with three hallways, one to the left, one to the right and one right down the middle. Much like downstairs, all the doors were open or just gone. And down near the end of the middle corridor, they saw the spotter of the duet. Ionescu.
"Major," The boy nodded as the group approached, scanning corners and entrances with their rifles. He spoke softly, shouldering his BR, "Corporal Nowak found a corpse..."
The Major gave a nod to the man, leaving him outside with the rest of the squad, then entered the somewhat larger apartment. Two rooms and a bathroom comprised this one, with one of the rooms containing the kitchen and fridge. Inside it, he caught sight of major damage to the building for the first time. A projectile of some kind, high caliber, passed through the outer wall of the apartment, effectively shattering it and opening it to the elements, before penetrating through one of the inner walls and into another three apartments before finally exiting.
Near the kitchen, the Major found Agnieszka, who was examining a mummified corpse. She looked back upon hearing the Major's footsteps, then nodded and said, "Been dead for a few months..." as she moved out of the way. The corpse itself was a mess. Its brown clothing, resembling some kind of uniform, had been stained by blood from the hip down to the left thigh. It was missing the lower right leg, where a pool of congealed blood and shattered bone now lay. Most striking of all was the head. Missing... If the rest of the corpse was an outright mess, the stump of the neck where the head had been was almost surgical, not even a faint wrong cut here, nor there.
"... Christ almighty," The Russian soldier spoke, "Where is his head?"
"I don't know, sir..." She replied, patting her medical kit down, "All I can tell you is that whatever cut it off, it wasn't part of the damage that we see here.. Too precise. Too accurate, like it was deliberate... And there was also that thing..." She stood up and pointed at another hole in the wall, this one forming a ramp of rubble as the entire outer wall had been torn apart, revealing the clouded night sky. On the platform of rubble, sat a mechanical form of some kind. Though it was twisted, charred metal by this point, one could still easily make out the bent shape of a cannon and the slim, exposed legs of the machine. Its center, however, was completely blown out, torn to shreds and filled with holes. Its canopy was a few feet down, bent out of shape and fucked beyond repair.
"I think he was piloting this, sir," She spoke, standing to her feet, "It looks like a mini Scarab..."
"Quadrupedal and armed with a smoothbore gun. I can see the resemblance," The man quipped, much to the corporal's chagrin, then he looked at the corpse once more. The stump was so precisely cut that it almost looked like someone simply took a laser cutter and removed the head. He shook his head, then noticed a sidearm holster sat on the wrecked counter next to the corpse.
"I got that off of his good leg. Nine Mil pistol, missing three rounds from its magazine," She stated, "Figured I'd holster it and leave it by the corpse..."
The man nodded. A good show of respect for the dead. He then looked past the twisted wreck of the quadrupedal walker, to see some similar war form laying below, though it looked crystalline, almost the polar opposite of this one in shape, with a lot of angles and a reflective, almost violet-blue surface. It was almost impossible to see in the moonless night, even with the VISR on. He ignored it for now, stating, "Let's keep moving. We ought to scout as much as possible before we head ho-"
"Five-Actual to One-Actual. Do you copy?" The voice of one of his COs spoke.
"One to five, I hear you..." The man stated, "What's the situation?"
"Train station north of you has been fully explored. Nothing beyond rubble and abandoned train cars according to com, but we lost contact with Two-Actual and her platoon when they were five klicks out from you. Can't raise anyone else neither," The man explained, the faintest hint of panic in his voice, "Suggest we make a bee-line for our extraction points and see if we can't find them, seeing as I can't even raise their Phantom flight..."
"Wait one, Five," The man replied, then spoke on broadcast, "Phantom One, do you have com with the rest of your flight?"
"Two-by-five for two of them, sir. The others, I can't even find on Radar..." The pilot replied, worried. The Major felt a pit form in his stomach at that.
"... Five, what's your status?" He asked.
"Our bird just reported movement due North, North-East... They also said some massive radar contact's on the scopes, like a flock of birds, but we can-..." White noise and static blasted the Major's ear, as it did the rest of the squads, before the garbled transmission, "... Hell?! CONTACT! WE'VE GOT CONTACT! HOLY FUCKING SHIT! PHANTOM FIVE IS DOWN AND WE GOT... What the FUCK ARE THE-..." The man screamed for a single second, then the com link became awash with static yet again.
"Five! Five, repeat your last!" The Major demanded, causing the rest of his squad to freeze as the com went dead. He swore in Russian, then switched channel and barked, "Serene, we've got a situation! Five has been engaged and we've lost coms with them! Status on the rest of our force is unknown! Requesting immediate reinforcement!" and he gasped as static blasted into his ear. He swore, "FUCK! Com line to command's been cut!"
"Fuck..." Agnieszka voiced, then cued her com and demanded, "Phantom One, do you read us!? We need evac, ASAP!"
The group then looked up and out at their support. A stream of scarlet danced in the sky. Sparks flew off the armor plate of the Pelican and one of its engines caught fire. It banked, its belly being filled by the stream of CIWS fire, before taking a nosedive toward the ground and exploding in a brilliant fireball behind a residential block, shattering the last few remnants of glass in its windows.
"That was CIWS..." Murmured the team's gunner, "What the fuck...?!"
"What the hell just... Command didn't detect anything on initial scans!" The Sniper demanded, "Major, we gotta bug out! Try to find a spot to reestablish coms!"
"I know," The man replied, trying to remain calm despite the situation, "Ionescu, get to the roof with Polatlyi, see if you can't get us a Line of Sight on whatever just shot down our bird. Everyone else, ready up for engagement... God only knows what could be jamming our coms and they've proven themselves hostile. Agnieszka, be ready to treat any injuries..."
"Provided there'll be any non-fatals, sir, I will be ready," She replied, shouldering her MA5... She stared up at the sky, then spoke, "Uhm... Why is the sky wavy?"
The squad all stopped and stared at the sky. Combined with the droning noise of what felt like millions of cicadas, the clouds in the sky moved like an eerie wave of darkness, shimmering in the light of the burning Pelican wreck below. The Sniper of the team shouldered his rifle and scoped in the strange sky before announcing rather annoyedly, "Yup... That's a big fucking swarm of locusts, boss..."
"Christ..." The Spotter voiced, "And my VISR is experiencing static..."
The team all froze, chills shooting up their spines as they heard the rumble of mechanical feet clashing against concrete. Their eyes locked onto the roof of the building a street across from them, watching as something, a shadow of some kind, clambered over the rear wall, visible only as it passed a hole that went all the way through the thick concrete block.
It then crested the roof...
Six armored legs supported an armored platform made up of angular armor plating, resembling very purpose-made artificial crystal formations. The faint light of the burning fire silhouetted the machine from the front of which two spider-like mandibles jutted out, tipped with what looked to be machine gun barrels. A single, baleful violet sensor 'eye' stared at the squad of ten, while the spikes on its back seemed to chitter, rearrange, move.
"... What...?" Agnieszka let out, shouldering her rifle.
Six more machines appeared on the rooftop. A dozen marched out into the street below, aiming their gunpods at them. And some hundreds of seemingly humanoid forms emerged from within the houses. The Major staggered, then ordered loudly, "FALL BACK! GET THE FUCK INSIDE!" just as the first machine tracked them. Deafening, the noise of several dozen machine guns lighting up the position they were once in filtered through the helmet audio sensors of the ODSTs' armor.
A warning blared in the man's helmet. The TEAMBIO system, the one meant to monitor the health of his squad, flared red. He gasped, turning onto his ass and watching as their spotter was turned into mincemeat by the enemy's machine guns. The bullet-riddled corpse collapsed into a heap, his weapon and binoculars clattering onto the floor to his side as the machines began their advance.
Volkov staggered, trying to stand up, to go retrieve his soldier's corpse, but a hand grabbed him by the collar. Through the deafening gunfire, Agnieszka screamed loud enough to wake the dead, "MAJOR! WE HAVE TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! GET UP, PLEASE!" her voice cracking. The man doubled over, staggered to his feet and grabbed his gun, watching as one of the machines clambered over the corpse of the one on the ramp, turning to face them.
"MOVE!" He ordered again, pushing his people out of the way as the machine opened up on the hallway, chips of concrete pinging off the backs of the soldiers' armor as it raked the area full of bullets.
"Jesus fucking Christ, sweet Mary, mother of Joseph, what the FUCK!?" The Sniper balked, the panic evident in his voice.
"This is some crazy late 1900s' movie shit, boss!" Agnieszka voiced as they bolted out into the hallway while the rumble of the machine's six legs slamming against the concrete shook the place. Bullets punched through the thin concrete and plaster walls and damn near took another Trooper's head off when Agnieszka decided to return fire, if even briefly. Her own rounds punched through the concrete and the ring of ricochets was the reply. She swore, "Ah, FUCK! THICK PLATING!"
"Keep running, corporal! I don't think we can fight these things head-on!" The man ordered as they broke through into the stairwell. Its walls were thicker, reinforced. They could still hear the rounds chipping away at them outside, but it was much less likely to be penetrated until they chipped away multiple layers of concrete and broke the rebars inside almost completely. The Sniper of the team threw his weapon onto his back and drew his Magnum M6G.
"Sir, maybe Fifties can punch through them!" The Sniper observed.
"Right... Take point, Polatlyi! You and Sturgeon are our line of defense!" The man barked.
"BOSS!" The current pointman ODST cried as his assault rifle rattled. The group saw them. Spindly, ugly as sin and terrifying to any sane person thanks to the Uncanny Valley effect, humanoid robots charged up the stairs, agilely jumping up several steps as they tried to reach them. The ODSTs didn't hesitate, all of them hefting their weapons and letting loose upon them.
Smaller and less armored, the machines fell to the focused fire of the UNSC soldiers, but there were too many. Where they were killing dozens with focused fire in this narrow space, hundreds more came. Even as the deafening cannonade of gunfire continued, they just kept coming. To the point that the Major had to watch one of them get close to the current pointman. Its spindly arms and legs wrapped around the Marine. Its one lilac eye began to flicker intermittently as it began to laugh, horridly, like a human, though its voice was distorted.
"... Oh, FU-"
The Major's scream was cut off by the detonation. The humanoid machine, a Self-Propelled Homing Mine of some kind, exploded in a blinding flash that shook the entire stairwell around them, vaporizing both the man it had clung to and several of its comrades, not to mention the floor below it and another two ODSTs. The Major, though discombobulated by the blast, dragged whomever he reached and saw was still alive to their feet and ordered them through hand motions to run back up the stairs.
The ringing in their ears soon began to subside, giving way to the pained screams of several of his men as they clambered up several more flights of stairs. The Major kicked the door to the floor they were on in, finding himself face to face with another hallway. He hefted his rifle and let loose a barrage of rounds, emptying his entire magazine and hearing the faint clank of bullets penetrating thin aluminum plate.
He advanced, screaming bloody murder as he reloaded his rifle and continued to fire on the machines. He saw their faint outlines, despite the jamming his VISR system was suffering, and fired at them as he moved. Watching as the contacts dropped dead off his Motion Tracker, at least within their current vicinity, he barked back, loudly, into the local com channel, "CLOSE THE FUCKING DOOR!"
Metal slamming against metal was his response. He continued firing, now supported by a wounded Agnieszka with her rifle. The woman had the luck of the fucking devil. A chunk of shrapnel was stuck in her helmet's visor and probably pierced all the way to near her left eye, but there she was, standing and fighting like there was no tomorrow. She screamed, her voice uneven, cracking, as she loosed the rounds into the remaining machines.
A frag grenade flew from another Shock Trooper's belt and the roof ahead collapsed thanks to the blast, blocking the other stairwell with rubble Their guns fell silent as the two ODSTs that were still on their feet slammed in fresh clips for their rifles and racked their bolts. Agnieszka dry-heaved, the barrel of her rifle burning red-hot, the heat distorting the area ahead.
"Fuck..." She swore silently, then her voice grew louder as she pulled her helmet off her head, "Fuck! FUCK!" and she tossed it aside. Under the helmet was a beautiful young woman with regulation-short, but curly ginger hair and emerald eyes. Blood seeped from a wound above her eye, right on her eyebrow. She swung her rifle onto her back, feeling her face and breathing a sigh of relief despite the continuous rattle of the enemy's own machine guns.
"Argh...! MEDIC!" Whined the Sniper as Agnieszka ran to check on him. A chunk of shrapnel the size of his thumb was stuck in his thigh, but had thankfully missed the femoral artery. The man swore, "Fucking HELL, Major, WHAT WAS THAT?!" staring at his wounded leg while his heavy gunner comrade kept his fifty-cal trained on the door more out of fear than anything.
"I... I don't..." The man himself was hardly able to breathe. He removed his helmet, tossing it to the floor and leaning against one of the walls as he said, "I have no fucking clue... Agnieszka, you alive?"
"I am..." She nodded, then swallowed her own spit, "Fuck, my eyebrow's burning..."
"It's not too bad from where I'm looking, Nowak," The Sniper quipped, then whined as he felt a sharp pain course through his leg. The woman pulled a set of clean pliers from her medical kit, pulled the shrapnel out of the leg and immediately applied half a canister of Biofoam into the man's leg. The Lieutenant, who was sat next to him, had the worst of the wounds. Multiple chunks of shrapnel and even a piece of fucking rebar in his gut.
The woman moved to him and sighed, immediately stabbing him with a painkiller, before stating, "I'm sorry, sir..." and turning to the Major. She spoke, "You have one in your plate, sir..."
"It stopped it..." The Major replied, turning around. His eyes were wide, his mind clearly racing as for a way out. The pounding of bullets against concrete reminded them that, outside, more of these damn machines were present. And these ones probably wouldn't go down without the heavier kit that Sturgeon and the Sniper had on them. He sighed, then looked to his left and gasped. The elevator shafts.
He poked his head into one and saw that the wires were still intact. He leaned back, then said "We can fast-rope down these... Sergeant, is the basement clear?"
"I can only fucking hope so, Major," The man replied.
"Drop a frag down the shaft. We'll swing down and try to make a run for it..." He ordered, readying his rifle. Despite the concern clearly shared between the survivors of the force, the Sergeant complied, dropping a primed fragmentation grenade down five floors. Once the thump of the blast reached them, the building reverbed with the blast. The Major spoke, "I'll take point. Help Nowak. Sturgeon, you're last one out."
"If they come through the door, they'll be in for a world of shit, boss..." The Gunner replied from his prone position, eyes locked down the variable zoom optic of his heavy-duty machine gun. The man nodded as he jumped down, grabbing with all his might onto the metallic wires. The screech of leather gloves against heavy-duty elevator wires irked the man, but he was making record time getting downstairs.
Once his feet touched the pancaked elevator at the base of the shaft, he drew his rifle and immediately scanned the area ahead. Nothing but heating pipes, a scorched circuit breaker and assorted trash laying on the floor. Pushing his way forward as he heard the next person coming down, he entered the basement, readying his weapon and aiming immediately toward the stairwell door.
Following him next was the corporal Nowak and her patient. The Sniper had managed to slide down the shaft on his own, though the landing was less than pleasant, hence why good corporal Nowak followed closely behind. She picked him up, arm draped over her shoulder, then managed to get him out of the shaft. Softly, she spoke, "Hope you can fire your pistol, man..."
He drew it from his hip and nodded, "I got you covered, Nowak."
"Least you can do..." She chuckled, then looked to the Major and said, "Sir. Sarge and Sturgeon are coming down now... The Lieutenant didn't make it..."
"Motherfuckers..." The Major swore in Russian and grit his teeth, then switched back to English, "If there's more of those things, light them up the moment you see them."
"Sir, with all due respect, you oughta leave me behind... If you gotta run, I ain't gonna be worth shit and I'm just gonna be dragging Agnes down with me..." The Sniper expressed his opinion, but the Major glared at him, as if he was telling the man to shut up. He backed off, watching as the Sergeant dropped in next, carrying the Lieutenant's rifle on his back, as well as some extra ammo and the man's dog tags.
Sturgeon dropped in next, his feet slamming against the elevator with a loud clang as he dismounted. He joined the others in the basement, then said, "Let's get the fuck outta here. I've had enough of this for the rest of my goddamn life."
Three hand signals from the major and the Sergeant kicked the door in, raising his rifle and scanning the area ahead. He pushed up the stairs aggressively, searching for targets behind every corner before giving the all clear. The group slowly exited back into the lobby of the damaged apartment building, listening for any noise and finding that the gunfire had gone silent. The only thing they were currently worried about were those suicide drones.
The Sergeant spoke, "I hear'em. Moving. Third floor and coming down toward us... Fast," and trained his rifle on the door. Sturgeon trained his GPMG onto the door as well, while the Sniper steadied himself against a pillar with Agnieszka's help and readied his sniper rifle to greet the oncoming suicide drones. Each of them ensured that they had a full magazine or box before the first bot came.
And as the door was kicked out of its hinges, a firing squad greeted the oncoming machines. Bullets pinged on aluminum, busting heads and whatever was keeping these cheap fuckers running. Nowak cried a battle cry in Polish, so loud and proud it almost deafened the symphony of their weapons. Chipping the cheap plaster and the concrete behind it, the bullets that tore into the shells of those machines must've struck one of them in their explosive core. The detonation deafened them and sent the Sergeant flying a couple of feet back, over the counter. Shards of concrete rained down upon the ODSTs from the blast, but did no damage this time.
When the first one came to their senses after the second concussion they'd suffered that they, they looked upon a massive, cratering hole in the inner wall and a completely collapsed stairwell, wondering to themselves how in the seven circles of Hell did they even survive that first one's blast. They must've managed to daisychain several of them this time...
"Sound off..." The Major called out, his voice hoarse.
"Nowak, alive..." The Pole replied, staring at the blown-out wall and the shrapnel bits that could easily have hit any of them. She murmured, "That was too fucking close."
"Sturgeon, just fine..." The gunner laughed, "We showed'em what's what! Fuck you, you bastards!" And he lifted the middle finger of his left hand in an arcane, but insulting gesture toward the mechs.
"Sikorsky, alive," The Sniper added.
"Horvat, alive," Sarge then replied.
"Five..." The Major said disbelievingly, "Five's all that's left of us... Out of an entire sixty-Trooper scouting unit..."
"There'll be even less of us if we don't get the hell out of here and call for backup, Major," The Sergeant replied, leaning against the counter to catch his breath. The Major nodded, then showed them to take two minutes for a break. He realigned Mikhaly and Sturgeon to greet any oncoming heavy enemy unit and listened in for their movement. Outside, he could still hear their thundering steps, but he saw none at the door. Yet.
He breathed a sigh of relief, feeling his heart rate beginning to elevate once again. After a moment's rest, the group hobbled out of the building slowly, scanning every nook and cranny and roof of every goddamn building for any single sign of movement. Above them, the sky still flickered and weaved with the perhaps thousands of those swarming creatures.
"They're jamming us, I think..." Nowak voiced, "And they could also be surveillance drones..."
"Our only option is to get to somewhere where our radios have signal," The Major noted, "Let's move. Sturgeon, you're with me in the rear. We'll provide cover. Mikhaly, give me your sniper."
As the team filed out, Nowak listened in. A small concrete piece fell onto her head and, when she plucked it up off of it, she looked up, all color draining from her face as she saw one of the hexapedal mechs, its machine guns trained on them and its single eye locked onto her. She screamed, raising her assault rifle and letting loose in bursts of five shots. The Gunner and the Major noticed this, both of them turning about and opening up.
Fifty caliber ammo perforated armor plating, causing the machine to lose balance. More rounds punctured, these ones from the sniper, and the machine dropped next to the girl. She yelped, watching as it struggled before she planted the barrel of her assault rifle in its single visual sensor and opened fire. Sparks flew as the woman expended a magazine, screaming at the machine as its siblings surrounded them.
Mikhaly and the Sergeant both turned around, with the former drawing his pistol and firing on another machine up above them. He looked to the Sergeant and yelled, "GEORGY! LEAVE ME! Grab the others and GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!"
"Like hell!" The man replied, raising his own assault rifle and dragging his comrade along as fast as he could.
He staggered, feeling pain in his lower jaw and dropping the Sniper after...
"You punched me!" The man complained, pulling his helmet off and feeling his jaw. Black hair and swampy brown eyes stared down at his sniper comrade, who was grinning, his own helmet off. Buck-toothed sonofabitch, Mikhaly was, he was still handsome enough for ladies to wanna go for him. He pointed his pistol up at one of the machines and aimed for the eye socket, putting two rounds into it before it pelted him with machine gun fire, right in front of the good Sergeant, leaving his corpse a mess of holes.
"... Mikhaly..." The Sergeant whispered, then looked up at the machine with the cracked eye and the three others behind it. He grit his teeth, anger surging into his veins as he hefted his assault rifle and opened fire, screaming aloud, "YOU BASTARDS! FUCK YOU! ALL OF YOU! DIE, YOU FUCKING PIGS!" as rounds punched into the weakened bulletproof glass. Once that was empty, he tossed it aside and drew his sidearm, aiming straight for the fucking eye. Fifty cal rounds left the chamber of the weapon, shot right into the central processor of the small machine.
Still, even as it fell off the building, right in front of the man, its brethren continued to appear...
The Major collapsed next, a round in his gut. Agnieszka screamed for the man that'd been like a father to her. His TEAMBIO showed he was still alive, if severely wounded... Sturgeon's head exploded next, his headless body collapsing onto the floor. Agnieszka was quick, grabbing the GPMG off the floor and opening fire toward an advancing platoon of the damn things while trying to tend to the Major.
The Sergeant crawled to them, reloading his pistol and switching out for the wounded Major's sniper rifle. He slapped in a fresh clip, then said to Agnieszka, "This is not how I fucking imagined my last stand going!"
"Were you planning on dying to Covvies on Earth, Georgy!?" The girl laughed sadly, covering the Major with her own body.
"Was hoping for it! You know, hands around an Elite's neck, a grenade in my teeth... That kind of shit!" He laughed back, firing his pistol and sniper remorselessly. He voiced, "Fuck... I'm down to my last mags!" and swapped out the empty magazine. He put two in the eyestalk of one of the machines and caused it to stagger, then a few more in its armor plating.
As the 50 clicked empty, the girl said, "I'm down to my pistol..." and drew it, aiming for the machines. She looked back to Georgy and said, "It's been nice knowing you, Georgy..."
"Pleasure's been all mine, Agnes..." The man replied, scoping down the leading machine for a last shot from his pistol. He squeezed the trigger...
Only to watch the machine explode into pieces. He looked at the empty handgun, eyes wide, before feeling the waft of air and the scent of high-explosive cordite, like that of an anti-tank gun. Several more of the machines were hit, penetrated by what looked to be a lower-caliber APFSDS round right in the rear. The man, wide-eyed, watched as more machines emerged from the smoke.
Contrary to the silvery-lilac machines of the enemy, these ones were rudimentary, thinly armored, rusting. Quadrupedals armed with smoothbore guns charged in, at least a dozen of them, each with a specialized marking on the left of their armor. Some had machine guns attached on two arms mounted near the front sensor suite which shined a burning, hatred-filled red. One other had twin high-frequency blades.
Agnieszka Nowak could do little but gawk as she saw the advancing machines.
Agilely, they dodged the enemy machines' gunfire while responding with their own. Twin machine guns raked the enemy bots, with some of the machines clambering onto the roofs of the buildings around them. Their smoothbore guns roared from up above, pelting the machines with APFSDS shells that tore new holes into their armor plating. The advance had been so swift that Nowak still had a single bullet in her pistol.
Her hands slumped by her side as she felt one of her own, newly-acquired wounds. The machine guns were 7,62mm, clearly, seeing as they left a gut wound like that. She looked over to the Major, seeing him pale, but alive. She nodded to the man, who weakly raised his left thumb to confirm he was okay, then both turned to watch as the allied machines surged forth, pushing the horde of dozens of enemy hexapedals back.
One mech, that had black dog of some kind painted onto its side, though said paint had worn off, stopped beside them, its scarlet eye locked onto them. Agnieszka felt her blood chill in her veins, aiming her pistol at the machine before it figured they were its next meal, but she gasped as she saw its canopy open. A young man with messy, dirty blond hair and wearing the same uniform as the corpse they'd found in the apartment building stood up.
"... Holy shit..." He spoke, then jumped out of his machine and placed a hand over his ear. He spoke as he approached the wounded ODSTs, "Undertaker, this is Black Dog! I found what, or better said who riled up that Legion scouting party in the area! Converge on my position and, if anyone has a medkit on their Juggernaut, bring it! Snow Witch, I'm gonna need your help here."
He took a knee in front of the wounded Agnieszka and Georgy, then spoke, "Hello..."
"... Hi..." The two ODSTs stared, dumbfound, at the young man before them.
He smiled, "You folks look like hell..." and rubbed the back of his neck.
"... We feel like it, too, pal..." The Sergeant replied. The boy then scanned the surrounding area and saw the corpses of their comrades, bloody messes on the broken concrete of the city. He narrowed his lips as another one of the machines stopped beside them, opening up to reveal a beautiful, silver-haired young lady with piercing blue eyes. She approached with what looked to be a makeshift medical kit in her hands.
"My God..." She whispered, taking a knee beside the wounded ODSTs, "How did you three even manage to survive?" before pulling the Major onto his back and getting right to cleaning his wounds and stitching them.
The boy put a hand to his ear again, then smiled. He nodded to the girl and said, "Area clear... Legion's pulling back."
A third machine entered the small circle, this one with the faded drawing of what looked to be a headless skeletal warrior of some kind, wielding a shovel. Stopping, it opened to reveal a third youngster, a boy with raven black hair and scarlet eyes. He was a handsome young fellow, clad in the same uniforms as the other two, with the only difference being a sky-blue scarf wrapped around his neck.
His impassive face soon turned to mild surprise as he saw the ODSTs laying in spent casings and pools of blood, battered but alive... He spoke, his voice monotone, calm, "Get them aboard a Juggernaut, each. Their most wounded takes priority... We're hauling him to the base for treatment. Snow Witch, he's all yours. Black Dog, you're taking the girl. I'll haul the last one."
"Yessir!" The two replied with salutes before departing.
He took a knee in front of the Sergeant and Agnieszka, then asked, "Who are you?"
"... Really... Really long story..." The two said in unison. Agnieszka then asked, "... Who are you?" her voice raspy, hoarse from all the screaming she'd done until now. She stared at the boy as if he was a savior, a Guardian Angel.
"... I'm the commander of Spearhead Squadron. You're in our care now."