Hakota Village Outskirts, Planet 4546B
September 2, 2552, 1903 local time
A black bird circled over Hakota Village, its red eyes taking in the sight of a group of oddly dressed men fleeing from a single, taller figure.
"Who the hell are these guys?!" Private Wallace A. Jenkins cried out as he dove for cover, narrowly avoiding a swing from a hammer-wielding mountain of a woman. The swing connected with a small tree, shattering the trunk and toppling it.
Jenkins scrambled to his feet away from the woman, while Sergeant Johnson and Privates Bisenti and Mendoza opened fire sparingly with their MA5Bs. Their shots were placed at Elms arms and legs as Cortana had instructed them to refrain from killing unless absolutely necessary. They were unpleasantly surprised when their shots seemed to be absorbed by a glowing brown field that surrounded her body with every impact.
"What?! Shields?" Bisenti cried out as the trio scattered, narrowly avoiding the hammer as the woman leapt towards them and brought it down amongst them. As it struck, it released a shockwave that sent the men flying in every direction.
Sergeant Johnson landed the closest to her and was the quickest to recover. Unfortunately, this meant that he was quickly made to be her focus as she charged towards him. With a grin on her face, she raised the hammer for another swing.
"Hey, asshole!" A voice cried out, quickly followed by the boom of an M90 shotgun firing. The load of 8 gauge buckshot impacted her squarely on her side, knocking her over mid-lunge. The brown glow was brighter, but still held as she rolled onto her feet.
Private Fitzgerald stood nearby, wielding his shotgun. He fired off shots as quickly as the gun would let him, while Johnson raised his own rifle and fired the underslung grenade launcher. He'd loaded a smoke grenade into it to avoid casualties, but he hoped it would at least distract the woman.
"Oh come on!" Fitzgerald shouted as the woman tanked the rounds and batted the smoke grenade away with her hammer. He pulled the trigger on his shotgun once more, only to be met with a click. Both he and Johnson furiously reloaded as the woman brought her hammer to her shoulder. The weapon let out an odd sound as it began to shift and change its shape. Fitzgerald fumbled a shell as his eyes grew wide, staring down the twin barrels of what seemed to be a very odd looking launcher of some kind.
"Scatter!" He cried out, diving to his right while Johnson went to the left. There was a flash, and a blast of cold air...
When Fitzgerald opened his eyes, the first thing he realized was that he was stuck halfway through his dive. His body was encased in ice up to his shoulders with only his right arm and head free to move. His left hand firmly held his shotgun by the pump, both buried in the ice.
The Private craned his neck, seeing Sergeant Johnson with his right leg encased in the same two-meter chunk of ice and his rifle out of reach. He was swearing up a storm, chipping at the hardened ice with his combat knife.
Jenkins, Mendoza, and Bisenti were scrambling for cover as the woman swung the launcher towards them. The men scattered, moving into the ruins of the town. The woman spared the trapped men a glance and grinned victoriously as she took off in pursuit of the three retreating Marines.
"...Hey, Sarge?" Fitzgerald said after a few moments of being trapped in place.
"What?" Johnson snapped, growling as he slowly worked through the tough ice that had seemingly come out of nowhere.
"Is this a bad time to tell you I'm losing feeling in my toes?"
Fitzgerald would remember the storm of swears that followed for the rest of his days.
"Johnson and one of his men have been incapacitated, the rest of Charlie is engaging the other comba- on your left!" Cortana called out in the Master Chief's helmet. He dove to the side, avoiding a lashing vine. The vine, one of many seemingly summoned by the pale, oddly dressed man, seemed almost ethereal in nature.
"Cortana, what is this?" The Chief asked as he continued to dodge and weave. His reflexes had been excellent since he was a child, but due to years of training, extensive augmentation, and the neural boost afforded to him by his armor, his reaction time was measured in milliseconds.
That being said, he still wasn't used to having another voice in his head.
His shotgun was firmly attached to his back, his magnum on his hip. Cortana had suggested using hand to hand tactics, but his two opponents were not making it easy on him. The first one kept summoning prehensile vines out of nothing, and Chief didn't want to find out if he could break free from them or not. The other came at him with a fishing pole of all things, and made surprisingly good use of it.
"Unknown. Visually, the vines appear to be some sort of hard light hologram, but the mechanism is completely unknown. It's peculiar how these people had demonstrated a wide range of-" Cortana cut herself off as the Chief blocked a vine's slash with his left bracer, only to have the fishing line wrap around his lower arm a moment later.
On the other end of the fishing line, Clover Ebi strained as he held the rod and reel tight. The armored giant was holding firm, yet its mobility was momentarily reduced. As he looked closer, he noticed that the fishing line wasn't quite touching the armored limb, but rather was wrapped around an invisible barrier roughly a half inch above the armor.
"Vine, now!" Clover grunted as his opponent began to strain against the cable. They only had a few moments to take advantage before he was either pulled off his feet or the mech broke the line.
Vine was quick to react, three vines lashing out in unison at their foe. At the same moment, the mech pulled against the fishing line, and Clover hit the release on the reel. A single moment of balance was enough for the vines to strike true and send the mech flying. It hit the ground, rolling to a stop with a bright flash of light.
"Was that... an Aura?" Clover asked incredulously, watching as the armored figure was already getting back on its feet.
"It moves far too fluidly compared to the AK-100s... I believe we are dealing with a human inside that armor." Vine said, calmly stepping up alongside Clover as the two prepared themselves for another clash.
"His Aura was broken in one strike. The armor might be compensating for-" Clover froze, eyes widening as the golden shield suddenly flashed back to life and enveloped the armored man once again.
"That is... unexpected..." Vine said after a moment of hesitation. Auras took hours to recharge after breaking... yet his had recovered in seconds.
"Alright... plan B... if we can't beat him into submission, let's try and pin him. If he can't move he can't fight." Clover ordered, bringing his free hand up to his earpiece. "Harriet, if you can hear me, find Elm and help her subdue the others. Then get back here and help us with this guy."
He'd hear grunting and cursing as Harriet pulled herself from the rubble of the ruined house she'd been thrown into. She was ticked off, and Clover knew if he hadn't given her an order she'd have made a beeline for the armoured man.
"I'm on it. Save a few punches for me." She replied, pushing enough of the rubble off that she could stand and move again.
Clover and Vine readied themselves as the armored man said something in a deep voice. A moment later, the same synthetic female voice from before translated for him.
"Lower your weapons and stand down. I don't want to hurt you." It said as the man eased his stance a little.
"Not a chance. You and your men are out-matched. If anyone is going to be surrendering, it's you." Clover said, grinning slightly. He was confident in his team, especially seeing how the rest of their opponents seemed to lack Auras and Semblances.
The armored man seemed to pause for a moment, his gaze hidden behind his gold visor. The two veteran Huntsmen barely had a moment's warning as the man drew his firearm from his back in the blink of an eye. A shot sounded as Vine and Clover dove to either side in an attempt to dodge the attack. Even with their quick reaction times, Clover felt a pellet graze his Aura.
"Take him now!" He called out, casting Kingfisher's line as he moved to the left of the armored man. The high-strength line wrapped around the barrel and pump of the shotgun, snagging the armored man's left hand in the process.
In a flash of movement, the Spartan had drawn a combat knife with his right hand and was moving to cut the line. At that moment, pale green vines wrapped around his arm and torso, locking him in place.
Inside his helmet, the Master Chief's eyes narrowed as he strained against the ethereal vines and the surprisingly strong Huntsman. His armor beeped at him incessant as his shields began to fail under the pressure. He had to think of something, but being unable to move, his options were severely limited.
"Cortana?" He hissed as he fought to stay on his feet. The strength these two possessed was unnatural to say the least, and even with his MJOLNIR Mark V armor he was struggling against their attempts to force him to his knees
"I'm working on it. I have an idea, but you probably won't like it." His companion replied.
"Do it." Chief responded, both his armor and his joints straining painfully as he resisted the vines with every fiber of his being. But even that wasn't enough as more vines wrapped around his torso and arms, slowly forcing him to the ground.
"When I give you the signal, grab the fishing line and... well, you'll know what to do." He could almost hear the grin in her voice. He was starting to think that she was right. He definitely wouldn't like this.
About three hundred meters away, in the ruined upper floor of one of the houses, a rifle barrel poked out from a hole in the steep roof. The firearm rested on a bipod, and was angled towards the Master Chief and his assailants.
"Private Dubbo, are you in position?" Cortana asked over the comms.
"Yes ma'am. Locked and loaded." He replied, laying prone behind the rifle as he took aim.
"Good. Aim for the man controlling the vines. They have some kind of personal shielding, but you should take a non-lethal shot regardless." The AI advised. "Wait for targets of opportunity after."
Chips stared through the Oracle scope atop his Series 2 sniper rifle, finding his target and placing his cross hairs on the vine man. He slowly adjusted his aim, compensating for wind and distance even at only three hundred meters. From his perspective, the target was to the right of the Chief, standing in a firm stance as he controlled the vines that ensnared the Spartan.
"'Non-lethal' my ass." He muttered as he adjusted his aim downwards. The Series 2 fired a 14.5mm hypersonic sabot round. The target would be lucky if they only lost a limb.
"Well, good thing you don't need kneecaps to live... sorry buddy." The Private pulled the trigger, a boom emanating from the barrel.
A vapor trail crossed the distance in the blink of an eye, connecting with the pale man's left knee. Chips whistled softly as he watched the man do a cartwheel, his pale green shielding shining brightly from the impact as he hit the ground. In that same moment, the vines disappeared and the Master Chief became a blur of movement.
Chips saw a flash in his peripheral, and zoomed out to five times zoom on his scope. He turned his attention from the Chief towards another blur, this one moving towards the sniper's hiding place.
"Oh, man..." He groaned, recognizing it as the woman Chief had thrown through a building minutes before. He adjusted his aim, realizing that she'd be on him in moments if he didn't do something. As he took aim, however, his vision suddenly turned black.
Chips jolted back from the scope to find a crow perched on his barrel, tilting its head at him quizzically. Chips blinked, and began trying to wave off the bird.
"Shoo! Get out of here!" He hissed. The bird, unfazed, simply hopped back along the barrel to avoid his hands and began cawing loudly at him. Chips grunted, starting to stand up to grab at the bird when he felt a tap on his shoulder. His head whipped around to meet the mohawk girl's gaze as she stood over him, a fist cocked and a smirk on her face.
As the Marine stared in shock, the crow flapped its wings and took off, leaving him to his fate.
"Oh, you've got to be-" Chip's world went dark, his last conscious thoughts spent cursing his luck.
The moment the vines vanished, the Chief sprung into action. He dropped the combat knife from his right hand and grabbed the fishing line, just as Cortana had instructed. He felt a buzz and a pop as his shields flared brighter and broke all at once.
Chief watched as the man holding the fishing rod seemed to tense and spasm for a few moments, unable to let go of the fishing rod as the energy from the shields coursed through his weapon and into his body. He was stunned at the very least, though Chief wasn't naive enough to think it would last long.
His attention snapped to his other assailant, who had taken a sniper round to the leg and was already pushing himself back up to his feet. Chief didn't give him the time to retaliate, lashing out with a kick to the man's torso. The Spartan's foe fell back on the ground, the shield around his body shimmering and flickering.
His shotgun now free, Master Chief delivered a bash with its stock to the man's head as he attempted to sit up. The Spartan nodded in satisfaction as the shimmering shield finally shattered and the man's eyes rolled back in his head.
'One target down.' He thought, turning his attention to the other huntsman
"Cortana?" Master Chief asked as the man regained his footing, his own shielding shimmering. As his own shields began to recharge, a malfunction alert sprung up in the corner of his helmet's visor. His shields stopped at half-capacity, the warning beeping at him until he muted it.
"This is what I meant when I said you weren't going to like it. I had to overload your shields to send that shock into him. I hoped it wouldn't cause damage, but..." She trailed off, already diagnosing the damaged components for later repairs.
"Needless to say... we should only try that once." She advised, watching as the Chief leveled his shotgun at the fishing pole man.
"Agreed. We need to end this." The Master Chief said to his companion. He turned his aim from Clover to the vulnerable Vine laying unconscious on the ground. He could see anger and worry flash across the man's face.
"Stand down. No one needs to die here." The Spartan spoke out loud, letting Cortana translate for him. Clover glared at him, raising his fishing pole.
"I'll make you regret hurting my teammate." He said with determination. One hand was on the man's four leaf clover pin, rubbing it idly as the two soldiers stared each other down.
Both waited for the other to make the first move, staring unflinchingly at each other. Clover debated whether his opponent would truly shoot a defenseless man, while the Spartan was formulating a strategy to take down Clover with the minimum amount of damage to the man.
Neither would get the chance to attack, however, as a single black feather floated, unnoticed, to the ground between them. What was noticed, however, was the massive sword that suddenly planted itself blade-first into the ground.
Perched atop the sword was a man with ragged black hair and blood red eyes. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he looked lazily between the two combatants.
"Alright, looks like there has been a bit of a miscommunication." He said, his eyes lingering on Spartan.
"Lovik! Where the hell are you?!" Jenkins called over his helmet's comm channel. He, Mendoza, and Bisenti were running through the village, breathing heavily.
"Patrol team inbound, Jenkins. The engineers and the rest of second squad are on their way back to Echo 419 to relay a message to the Autumn." The Corporal's voice replied, the whine of a Warthog's engine revving in the background. "ETA, one mike. Hold your ground."
Jenkins grunted in annoyance as he and his teammates rounded a corner, taking a moment to breathe as they slowed to a jog.
"Oh God... what do we do? That woman soaks up rounds like a hunter." Mendoza groaned, leaning against a burnt out home as he tried to catch his breath.
"Hits like one too." Jenkins grumbled in agreement, checking the ammo counter on his assault rifle. He had forty three rounds left in his current mag, as well as two more spare magazines.
"Maybe we should just stand and fight." Bisenti proposed, walking forward a little and peeking around the corner to the left. "I'm afraid they're gonna start picking us off one by-"
He was cut off as a blur of a woman shot around the corner, decking him in the jaw with a sharp right jab. The Marine was sent tumbling across the ground, landing in an unconscious heap on the other side of the dirt road separating the rows of houses.
"Contact, contact!" Mendoza cried out, firing a long burst from his rifle at the speeding woman. If any of the rounds hit their mark, the two remaining Marines couldn't tell. The attacker vanished between two houses, and the Marines broke out into a sprint.
Jenkins' helmet sported an eyepiece that displayed tactical information and assisted his aim. He could see Johnson, Fitzgerald, and now Bisenti listed as incapacitated. He was thankful, at the least, that they weren't seriously wounded.
He heard the telltale boom of Chips' sniper rifle over the sounds of his own heavy breathing. He knew Johnson had tasked the marksman with providing fire support for the Master Chief, but the Sergeant had severely underestimated the power the newcomers possessed
"Chips! We're under attack! It's just me and Mendoza out here!" Jenkins called out over the comms. He swore under his breath when there was no response from the marksman. A moment later, the Australian's IFF tag on his team roster was added to the list of incapacitated soldiers.
Both Marines came to an abrupt stop, finding Harriet standing before them. Jenkins heard heavy footsteps behind them, and spun around to bring his rifle to bear. He and Mendoza stood back-to-back, rifles trained on the women.
"You know, I always thought I'd die to a woman. Just thought it was going to be my wife..." Mendoza muttered.
Jenkins swallowed his fear. While it was clear that these people weren't going to kill them, he had no desire to become a POW if he could help it. They just had to hold out until help could arrive, though that prospect was seeming less and less likely as the women advanced on them.
The sound of tires sliding on the gravel road was music to Jenkins' ears. Behind the taller, darker woman, he could see Lovik's Warthog slide around the corner. Private O'Brien, one of second squad's members, manned the M41 Light Anti-Aircraft Gun on the back.
The dark-haired woman turned around, eyes widening in surprise at the sudden appearance of the vehicle. The hammer in her hands was already transforming, and Jenkins' eyes widened as he remembered what had happened to Johnson and Fitzgerald.
"Open fire!" Jenkins cried out over the comms, grabbing Mendoza by his vest and yanking him to the side of the street. Considering that the women had tanked far more damage than even Elite shields usually did this far, Jenkins was sure a few more rounds wouldn't kill them.
As the Warthog bore down on the taller woman, Private O'Brien depressed the firing levers on the M41. A hail of 12.9mm rounds spat from the tri-barrelled gun. The shielding on the women flared brightly, but instead of seeking cover they instead charged directly at the vehicle.
The Warthog had topped a hundred kilometers per hour as the speedster shot past Elm. O'Brien could barely cry out in shock as Harriet launched herself into the air, feet landing on the Warthog's hood for barely a moment before she clotheslined him off the turret, sending him sprawling back. He tasted blood as he landed, staring up at the sky as pain flooded his entire body.
Lovik's eyes were wide, craning his neck in disbelief at what had happened. He had forgotten about Elm momentarily, but a sudden impact brought reality crashing down on him much in the same way his head crashed into the steering wheel. Jenkins and Mendoza sat up in shock, rifles hanging loosely in their hands.
Elm stood, ethereal tree roots sprouting from her lower legs and into the ground. She had caught the Warthog with her bare hands, bringing it to a near-instant stop. Lovik was slumped over the steering wheel, and Jenkins' roster now listed him and O'Brien as wounded in action.
"What is wrong with this planet?!" Mendoza breathed in disbelief.
The tall woman's shields flickered dangerously as she released the now-idling Warthog from her grip. Before Jenkins or Mendoza could think of raising their rifles, Harriet came to a stop in front of them, arms crossed.
Harriet seemed rather pleased with herself that she and Elm had taken down the squad rather easily, but her smug smile faded fast as she brought her hand up to her ear piece. A look of irritation spread across her face as she looked towards Elm, who had a confused expression.
Jenkins' helmet had an early version of Cortana's translation software built in, though it only worked.for listening in. He was fairly certain he caught the words "Are you kidding me?" more than once from the mohawk woman.
A moment later, Jenkins would hear Cortana speaking over the local comms.
"Cortana to Fireteam Charlie. Stand down and await further orders." Jenkins and Mendoza looked at each other warily, realizing that Harriet and Elm had likely received similar orders.
"Private Jenkins to Cortana... Charlie copies." Jenkins said slowly, nodding to Mendoza as the two Marines began moving towards the Warthog under the withering glare of Harriet.
Mendoza whistled softly when he saw the hand-sized dents in the Warthog's hood. He kept the two specialists in his field of view while Jenkins checked on Lovik and O'Brien.
"Corporal might have a concussion, O'Brien definitely has some cracked ribs." Jenkins called out to his companion, his hand opening a pouch on his chest plate. "I'm gonna give O'Brien some painkillers, then I'm going for Bisenti. Stay here and keep an eye on them."
As Jenkins jogged off, leaving Mendoza alone with two injured Marines and a pair of women easily able to take him down, Elm spoke up.
"I can help." She offered, stepping towards Mendoza. The Marine's rifle snapped up towards her as he stared warily at her. Elm raised her hands slowly and stepped back, trying to show she wasn't going to attack them... again.
After Clover had called for a cease-fire over the comms, Elm had realized that her initial reaction to these soldiers had likely been the cause for friction in the first place. As she looked around, she could now see the signs of debris being cleared and tools scattered around. It was obvious now that the men, or at least people with them, had been in the midst of cleaning up the village when the AceOps team had arrived. If they had the villagers, and they were cleaning up the village, it was likely that they were protecting the civilians, not holding them hostage.
Harriet huffed and rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, I don't think they will be keen to accept any help, considering how badly we whipped them. C'mon, let's go find Clover and figure.out what's going on." The shorter woman said, brushing past her taller companion and walking back towards the edge of the village where they had last seen Clover and Vine.
Elm turned to follow her, but cast another glance towards the soldier. His eyes never left her, though his rifle had been lowered. As she left the main thoroughfare of the village, she could hear the other man calling out to his companion.
Hakota Village outskirts, Planet 4546B
September 2, 2552, 1935 local time
"Right, now that everyone is done trying to kill each other, let's try talking this out." Qrow Branwen said, looking between the two groups that had gathered.
On his right stood the AceOps team he'd come here to meet with. Clover looked a bit ragged and worn, but otherwise uninjured. Harriet stood at his side, keeping herself between her leader and the soldiers. Vine sat on a rock, nursing a raging headache while Elm tended to him.
And on his left was a group of soldiers that vaguely reminded him of the Atlas military... if Atlas had any concept of camouflage, that is.
Eight men wore olive drab fatigues and armor that had a slightly glossy finish. They had a variety of headwear, ranging from a boonie cap, a bandana, and the odd helmets with green eyepieces that the majority of the soldiers wore.
Two of the soldiers were laid out, alert but clearly hurt to some degree. Another sat against a fence post, his bandana pulled off as he rubbed his bruised temple. A younger man leaned against one of the trees dotting the fields with a long rifle leaning against him, his eyes flicking towards Harriet every few moments. The one with the boonie cap stood near the wounded men, watching the AceOps team warily.
Standing closer to Qrow while also keeping the specialists in their field of view were the final three men, and a mountain of a man in emerald green armor. Qrow could see himself in the man's golden visor, and couldn't help but feel the state that was undoubtedly locked onto him behind it.
It was the man next to the green giant, a dark-skinned man in a patrol cap with a lit cigar in his mouth, that spoke first. While Qrow didn't understand what was said, a translation soon followed from the giant.
"We weren't trying to kill anyone. We were just defending ourselves. The way I see it, you people attacked us without provocation." The voice was a woman's, though Qrow had heard the giant's real voice while the soldiers had been gathered. He figured it was simply the voice of the translation software, though he'd never heard their native language before in all his years as a Huntsman.
"Let me stop you there. First of all, I just got here." Qrow replied, holding up a hand. "Second, I'm not with them. I was just supposed to work with them for a couple days."
"Third, it's obvious things started off on a bad foot. So, how about we introduce ourselves?" He suggested, looking from the soldiers over to the AceOps. Several awkward moments of silence followed before Clover let out a sigh and stepped forward, with Harriet sticking close to his side.
"I am Clover Ebi, leader of the Ace Operatives team from Atlas." He said, his gaze flicking between the Spartan and the man with the cigar.
The Chief stayed silently, looking over to Sergeant Johnson as the veteran stepped forward, arms crossed.
"Avery J. Johnson, Sergeant of Fireteam Charlie." He spoke, his dark brown eyes gazing into Clover's mint green. His rank was lost in translation, due to the remaining gaps in the vocabulary, but it was obvious he was a leader himself.
"See, we're all friends here." Qrow said, grinning as he pulled a flask from his shirt and opened it. He ignored the look the Spartan gave him as he took a swig.
Johnson opened his mouth to speak, but paused as he looked over at the Chief. Johnson brought his had up to his ear and touched an earpiece he was wearing, then uttered a short, untranslated reply.
"I've just gotten new orders. You five are coming with us to answer some questions." Johnson said firmly, meeting Clover's gaze.
The reaction from AceOps was immediate upon the translation, all three on edge for what they perceived as another fight about to occur.
"That's out of the question, for more reasons than I can count. You have no authority here. If anything, we're taking you and your men in. This territory belongs to the Kingdom of Vale and is subject to its laws and authority. We also have the backing of Atlas, with orders straight from General Ironwood." Clover replied, crossing his arms. He stared at Johnson, expecting the man to back down.
Even if they were from some far off land, everyone on Remnant knew about Atlas and the strength of its military. The other three Kingdoms were openly wary of the force that Atlas wielded, and few would dare to oppose it openly.
Qrow rolled his eyes at the name-dropping from Clover. Atlas always had a knack from throwing its weight around where it wasn't welcome. He stayed silent, though. Qrow had been watching these strangers for several hours before AceOps had arrived. If he was right about what he could faintly hear approaching in the distance, Qrow was all too happy to let Atlas put their foot in their mouth while avoiding another fight.
Johnson chuckled, plucking his cigar from his mouth. He blew out a cloud of smoke, never breaking eye contact with Clover.
"It wasn't a request. Our orders come straight from our CO. You're coming with us whether you like it or not." The sergeant looked back at the Master Chief, nodding to him and receiving a nod in kind.
"Okay, Everyone
"You and what army? Half your men can't even fight, and we have a veteran Huntsman now." Harriet laughed, confident that AceOps would win round two of this fight.
Johnson simply took another drag from his cigar, and grinned as the hushed sounds of thrusters in the background quickly grew to a roar.
A trio of Pelicans flew into view, circling around the gathering. Two remained in their air with their chain guns tracking the specialists while the third swooped down to land nearby. Its bay door opened, depositing nearly a dozen ODSTs that quickly surrounded the AceOps and Qrow at gunpoint.
"Me and this army." Johnson chuckled, his grin never faltering. "This is the part where you come quietly."
Clover, Elm, and Harriet looked at each other warily. Their auras were at various levels of depletion, with Elm's being the lowest besides Vine, who had his broken completely. They could have probably taken the Marines, and Clover figured they had a good shot at the black-armoured soldiers, but the dropships would be an issue.
Clover looked back at Johnson, only to realize the giant seemed to be staring straight at him. After fighting him, Clover knew for a fact that if things had gone on like they had, they would've lost. Not to the soldiers, not to the airships, but to the man in the armor. He had an odd feeling in his gut, like there was something slightly familiar about the man.
Qrow, seeing the tension building as the ODSTs moved to take them into custody, took one last swig from his flask before stowing it. He put his hands up half heartedly, shrugging at the looks he got from AceOps.
"I'm going to go quietly. I figure I'll get more answers this way. You four are free to get your asses kicked by the big man over them." Qrow reasoned as a pair of ODSTs approached him, one pulling out zip ties from their belt.
"That won't be necessary, private." Johnson called out, waving his hand dismissively. "Just police that weapon for now."
Qrow grinned at Johnson appreciatively. He knew he'd get Harbinger back one way or another. Besides, he'd never hear the end of it if he went back to Oz before he figured out who these soldiers were and where they came from.
AceOps, on the other hand, was disarmed after Clover finally ordered Harriet and Elm to stand down. Johnson and the Chief watched as they were restrained and split between two of the Pelicans, Harriet and Vine in one, Clover and Elm in the other. Qrow was taken to the third Pelican, Echo 419.
"Well, today has been interesting." Johnson said, looking up at the evening sky. What else could he say? First they had the local wildlife to contend with daily, but now they were fighting people with honest-to-God super powers.
"That's one way to put it." Cortana said through his headset, listening from the Chief's helmet.
The Master Chief stared at Qrow as the Huntsman was escorted to Foehammer's Pelican. He couldn't explain it, but the strange man had left him with a bad feeling.