Aboard UNSC Infinity
Slipspace transit inbound towards Trebia System, ETA: 5 Seconds
Operation HARPOON
August 30th, 03:45
"ALL HANDS BRACE! BRACE! BRACE!" Captain Lasky screamed over the ship comm system as the emergency klaxon began to sound. A blaring alarm screamed on the intercom. Red emergency lights went off.
The view outside the bridge window immediately transformed from the absolute vantablack and dark purple to a screen of stars. Roland twisted the ship upwards in their frame of direction. The established frame of reference was Palaven. The planet was always two-dimensional northwards. They had caught a Reaper capital ship off guard, traveling in a perpendicular fashion in Infinity's trajectory.
The front ram bow hit the Reaper right in the middle. For a few seconds, the entire front of the Infinity was consumed in red and black metal, and dark red and blue fires that bursted from the Reaper hull. The momentum spun the tentacles of the Reaper towards the ship, causing them to bang against the metal shield hulls. The Infinity continued to push through the fire and metal, eventually into the view of stars and Palaven, outlined in reddish-orange shadow by the local star.
"All hands! Now here this! This is UNSC AI Roland! General quarters! General quarters! We are at REDCON One. All marine and naval aviators main your planes. Man your planes! Weapons, prepare to fire!"
Out of the slipspace bubble, Battle Group Dakota supported by small support elements of the Twelfth fleet entered into realspace. UNSC Infinity rumbled as the ten-strident class frigates began to deploy.
And in the far distance, tens of thousands of miles away there were hundreds, maybe even thousands of small blue sparks that quickly popped into existence and went out like firecrackers. The Geth and Quarian assault fleets had also entered the system through the Relay. Right on time.
Lasky almost couldn't believe it. Hell, he and all the tacticians at FLEETCOM doubt it'd work. The plan was for a wave assault. Battle Group Dakota would be a distraction, arcing around the sun to hopefully draw off Reaper forces. Geth and Quarian forces would push forward towards Menae, forming a high curvature geostationary orbit to set up ambush for the distracted forces while simultaneously beginning ground troop deployments.
All the planning. All the contingencies. The weeks of scenarios and drill simulations. They tried to schedule actual joint training exercises… But it wasn't possible as both sides tried to get ready. All this for this moment.
Because of the unlikely probability of success, the UNSC was ready to utilize contingencies. The actual plan all depended on if the Geth and Quarians got here at the same time as the UNSC did. There were nearly five-hundred Geth and Quarian ships, plus around twenty Turian reinforcement ships and eighty-five UNSC ships. Most of the ships were stacked with UNSC Marines and Army Airborne, Geth troops, Quarian Fleet Marines, and Turian regular army.
And still...things were going according to plan. Yet….as the naval academy always taught him...no plan survives first contact with the enemy.
"INCOMING FROM ABOVE!" A ship captain yelled over BATTLENET.
"IT'S A TRAP!" Another captain yelled.
On the holo-display table, two Reaper capital ships and one destroyer came from above. They immediately engaged the nearest Autumn-class cruiser.
This is one of the contingencies they had planned for. Turian Intelligence had reported Reaper patrol groups were scounting along the outer solar system. They were spread thin, but because of their speed they can regroup fast.
UNSC ships pushed downwards in a twin inverted arc, almost like a fishhook. UNSC Infinity and multiple Strident class cruisers halted with frontal RCS engines. Fifty millimeter guns and archer missiles began to fire. Fronts were realigning towards the Reapers, getting MAC guns into positions.
"Sir! More Reaper patrols are inbound!" Roland reported. Around seven Reaper patrols made of the same ship groupings were heading towards Battle Group Dakota.
The best plan was to have the Strident ships push upwards to support the Infinity and the rest of the ships to quickly eliminate the other Reapers. From there, they would have to push forward in a spread arc. Hopefully, they could get support from the Geth fleet.
The main thing was they under no circumstance could get surrounded. Their carrier frigates, filled with tens of thousands of marines and army soldiers were highly vulnerable. Lasky had to deploy the ODSTs to secure those landing zones on Menae now.
"We need our fighters out now!" Lasky ordered. "Roland, we have to punch a hole now! We're gonna be busy!"
"Roger that! I'll contact the Geth, roger them up!'
Lasky looked to the display. He hadn't even noticed the increased gravitation had caused his knees to buckle. His vision to go slightly blurry.
Here they go.
...
It would be a very short drop. At least according to plan. At most it'd only be a few hundred klicks. They were deploying with the Geth and Quarian Fleet Marines onto the surface to quickly establish secure landing zones for the Heron drop pods. The main problem on the surface were the Reaper capital ships. Usually, it'd be as simple as getting multiple lazes on it for exospheric to surface MACs. Yet Buck felt it wouldn't be that easy.
Nineteenth battalion and ODST Infinity detachment were already in their pods, stationed aboard multiple UNSC frigates. It reduced casualties if a frigate was hit, however it meant there was a larger risk they'd be spread out all over the planetary surface.
Buck's body was pushed against the starboard side of his pod. The straps were barely holding him in place. He hadn't even dropped in and he was already taking short breaths.
"Stand by, Marines Stand by." Everchosen actual said on the battalion comms. "Encountering heavy flak."
Buck tapped into the battalion comms. He forced himself to speak. His lungs were being crushed.
"Alright, ladies. Good highs, high lows. We are Feet First Into Hell!" Buck screamed.
The hatch doors slowly rolled opened. Buck could see a scarred grey surface filled with craters and fires. The detailed outlines of plateaus and ridgelines were carved with trenches and outposts.
Jesus Christ.
They were a helluva lot closer to the surface than they were supposed to be. They had to be maybe six or seven hundred meters above the deck at most. Menae had no outer meso or thermosphere. Nothing to burn up ships when they neared the surface (and nothing to protect them against solar radiation either).
Buck stopped the moto bullshit and started to input orders. "All pods! All pods! Adjust drop vectors! Adjust drop vectors!"
Buck began to quickly realign his pod. The surface skidded by. They would be completely off target.
His pod began to slowly move in place to try and make last minute corrections. Battalion comms began to blow up with panicked officers trying to figure out what the hell was going on.
"READJUST! READJUST! READJUST!-"
"Where the fuck are we dropping-?"
"We can't make those corrections fast enough! Our ship is completely off course-!"
"-Longitude by twenty dash mark-"
Fucking flyboys.
"Everchosen actual. Interrogative. What the fuck is going on!?" Buck screamed on the horn with the ship.
All that responded was a jumble of gargled, panic transmissions intermixed with static. Buck heard a clear voice that screamed over all the others.
"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! This is UNSC Everchosen, we are going down-!"
Buck knew at the ship's current momentum and trajectory in relation to the planetary surface the pods were gonna arc far.
Yet there was no other choice.
Buck opened up an access panel on his command pod and hit the emergency launch button.
Quickly, one by one pods began to launch towards the planet.
Come on, Goddammit. Come on. Hurry the fuck up.
The inertia shifted towards the upper corner of his pod as the front of the Everchosen began to dip towards the planet surface.
The ship skidded by another massive plateau with scattered wreckage, fires, and debris of alien ships.
Come on, dammit.
The last row began to launch. There were beams of Reaper AA fire, dark blue and black. Maybe two or three of them upon the local surface.
Three hundred meters above the surface. A couple more pods-
Buck's launched. His body was slammed into the port side of the pod. It raced in an arc over the surface. Buck twisted his head up. UNSC Everchosen had dozens of fires on her hull, numerous laser scars and a missing engine. Not only did ODST pods drop launch, but so did Herons, Pelicans, and escape pods. Seemed like everyone was getting out of dodge.
"All callsigns, this is Big Poppa!" Buck got on task force comms. "Task Force Assassin is away! We are away!"
He was already two-hundred meters away from the surface. Pods began to deploy metal parachutes.
Buck deployed his. He took longer breaths. His body pushed downwards.
Buck had studied the topographic and nav maps day and night. And he could say with absolute confidence looking upon the surface he had no idea where the fuck they were.
His descent slowed down. His pod rushed the last few meters, hitting the surface.
Here they go.
Here we go.
His hatch popped open.
...
Thirty seconds after drop
Dubbo's hatch popped open. Immediately, black and red fire flew right over head. Dubbo stayed low, running forward. Three ODSTs on a ridge two hundred meters out were setting up a gauss cannon under heavy fire. One of them got hit. The two others ducked into cover.
"CORPSMEN! CORPSMEN!" Someone screamed.
"GET IN COVER, GODDAMNIT!"
"-MOVE YOUR FUCKING ASSES!"
Dubbo saw a clear defense line. ODSTs were taking cover on a mound. They were positioned a few dozen meters in front of a Reaper machine gun position, stuck in defilade. One of those heavy gun bugs, a ravager, was rainin hell on their position. The Reapers were protected by a fortified one-way shield and reinforced metal struts. Ahead, in the horizon, that planet Palaven burned. Orange fiery lights were lit on the dark side of the planet. The sun outlined the curvature of the planetary surface.
A ship flew overhead. Wasn't UNSC. Looked almost like a giant, grey wasp without wings. It dropped what looked like black bricks onto the deck. One landed in front of Dubbo. It popped up into a large figure, about a foot taller than Dubbo. He had a head like a snake that surrounded a single white light acting as a face. Two toes and two fingers. Heavy armor that looked like steel. He brought out a heavy-ass rifle with digital lights and small tubing.
The others transformed in a similar way. One of the larger boxes stood up on four legs. It was maybe eleven, twelve feet tall. It had an underbelly made of what looked like grey gel. Tubes were hanging down in coil patterns. It's top armor was stark white, with a head similar to the other troopers.
Geth troops, and one of their heavy tanks. Something called an 'armature'.
With all the shit leading up to the operation, with the main focus being replacing battalion casualties and reinforcing them with First MEF, they had no time to cross-train with the Geth, Quarians, or Turians. No one in the UNSC, at least on a tactical level, had any idea how to work with them.
Guess they had to fuckin' learn.
Dubbo reached the mound line. Other ODSTs were dragging casualties to cover. He could see the marines successfully set up the gauss gun turret on the ridge. They began to provide suppressing fire. The sound of the rail gun rang throughout the air. He didn't realize it, but Dubbo had maybe ran two hundred meters from his pod to the mound line. His chest fought against the constraints of the reinforced black ODST armor. Dirt and debris began to fly overhead as Reaper fire began to focus on their position.
"This is Deacon two actual to Big Poppa actual, hal copy?" A radio operator next to Dubbo said on the task force comm. It was Lance Corporal Amos.
"This is Big Poppa actual, send traffic."
"We have missed the drop zone, and are currently located at eight digit grid coordinates Hotel Uniform Five Three-"
They always missed the bloody drop zone. That's what they were trained for. Adapt and overcome. If Dubbo heard Amos right, they had to be at least a few dozen klicks off from their intended landing zone, LZ Sugarcane. Dubbo pulled out his battle rifle. Looked around. There were maybe fifteen or twenty marine ODSTs on the mound line.
Dubbo grabbed Amos' collar, pulled him close. He didn't have to scream over the gunfire since their buckets' had commlinks, but he still had the discipline of a front line grunt.
"DO WE HAVE COMMS WITH THOSE GETH?" Dubbo screamed. He looked back. The Geth took no cover, pushing forward despite casualties. It didn't seem to hinder them. The roar of the armature's main repeating cannon deafened everything else.
"NEGATIVE, SIR! THEIR UNITS WEREN'T EVEN SUPPOSED TO BE NEAR US!" Amos replied in the same tone.
Dubbo wondered if the Geth were also dropped here on accident or if this was their actual landing zone. Dubbo waved one of them over. A Geth trooper in black and orange near the back sprinted over, dodging Reaper fire.
"Identify." The Geth said in a creepily deep, robotic voice. He kneeled down.
Rioght. Geth blokes were robots apparently, at least it said on the info packets. Stupid as hell when they're alone but smart as fuck when they're together. Like a pack of wolves with a leader.
"WHAT!?" Dubbo screamed.
"Identify." The Geth repeated in a calm voice.
"Uh…? First Lieutenant Dubbo, Infinity ODST Detachment."
"Dubbo Lieutenant." It said. "Geth Hunter mobile platform unit five-three-five-zero-zero-one. Geth Corps, Siege Section One."
"...Rioght…" Dubbo replied. "Well, we're way off our drop zone, so you mind telling us what the fuck your objective is here?"
"Priority objective: Establish landing zone for Geth Corps, Assault Combatant Section One and Quarian Fleet Marine technical support unit to provide relief for Turian and Krogan combat forces. Secondary Ob-"
"Rioght." Dubbo quickly peeked over the mound. The Reaper murder hole was maybe thirty yards out in a elevated position a few yards above the surface. Area of defilade would be small, and had to be suicidally close. In the info briefings, nothing shorter than a rocket or Spartan Laser could breach Reaper defense shields.
The noise of gunfire stopped. There was a screeching sound, like oxygen being sucked out of an open corridor. Something tugged Dubbo's body upward towards exosphere.
He didn't have to look up. A UNSC frigate passed overhead, only a few hundred meters above. Fires all over the hull. Battered and overall fucked up. UNSC Everchosen was going down, releasing all their pods and ships aboard into the fray.
It passed by, crashing in the unseeable distance.
The Reaper murder hole turned on the gauss cannon, firing off a slavo of rounds. The two marines operating it were blown back, and the turret was gone for good.
"Fucking wankers." Dubbo muttered. ODSTs began to pepper the shield with a mixture of assault and battle rifles. He looked back to that Geth Hunter. "We need you to provide suppressive fire with that armature bloke. It might puncture that shield but it'll be fuckin 'ell clearing out that murder hole."
"Get Hunters are adept at close quarters combat-"
"Tioght. So what the hell is going on here then, mate?"
"Reapers have established a defensive entrenchment line here, cutting off a major MSR route that will allow quick resupply and repositioning of Turian and Krogan forces. Geth Corps, Siege Section One is adept at puncturing-"
"A'ight. We'll puncture the hole here then. Attack the other murder holes from the side." Dubbo ordered. He was remembering something now… A UNSC army airborne group part of Task Force Gibraltar was supposed to deploy behind this Reaper defensive line. Army and Geth would've surrounded them and mop the fuckers out. But that was supposed to be way later in the plan.
Chriost, mate. Things were all fucked up.
The armature slowly began to turn its fire towards the shield unit. One of its legs was immediately hit by the ravager. It dived down at first, but continued to fire the three round burst salvo. It hit part of the metal fortification, piercing the shield, causing some splash damage.
"We're gonna rush those guns, mates!" Dubbo yelled to the ODSTs through the local tac-comm. Everyone stopped providing fire discipline, reloaded and rogered up to push forward.
Word quickly traveled from Geth trooper to Geth trooper. They turned their fire toward the shield defending the murder hole. Dubbo took one last look. There was a decent sized hole in that metal fortification from the armature fire.
"MOVE IT, DAMMIT!" Dubbo ordered. A simple tactic. A few ODSTs stayed in position, providing covering fire while the rest pushed forward, staying as far apart as possible. A thirty meter sprint.
The ravager saw what was happening. It began to fire at them instead of the armature. It hit one of the ODSTs, throwing him back. Another round hit the Geth Hunter, ripping off a leg and a good chunk of his body.
The rest of the ODSTs and Geth entered into defilade. The hole was about one-and-a-half meters up. Two ODSTs got down and began to lift up other marines into the hole. Five were pushed in when Dubbo was next in line. He was quickly lifted up into the hole. He looked around. It was a lot more quiet in here than outside. The Reapers had created thin, makeshift trench corridors with sharp turns. Goddamn, this was a bloody nightmare.
There was no one in sight. The marines that had already entered were already pushing forward. Reports of assault rifles and Reaper guns echoed throughout the corridors. Two more marines entered the hole. Corporal Asher and Lance Corporal Yuan. Dubbo nodded to the two to follow him.
They cautiously made their way through the corridors, head on a swivel.
Damnit. They needed flamers. Shotguns. Fuckin' CQC gear.
They entered into a larger room. There was a window looking into the outside world. Black ash covered the floor and bullet holes were all over the combination of dirt walls and Reaper fortifications. This looked like where the ravager was stationed. Marines had cleared it out. Dubbo looked outside. Geth troops were pushing forward.
Gunfire reports from inside immediately stopped, replaced by an echoey silence. There was another trench corridor that connected to this room. Dubbo and the two marines pushed on.
A blood curdling scream traveled down the corridors. Inhuman and almost robotic. Christ. Dubbo knew what it was. He raised his rifle. A shadowy black figure appeared from the corner, surrounded by blue embers. It charged at them. Its body didn't move.
Dubbo and the marines opened fired. Rapid fire. Unloaded the entire magazine.
The Banshee stopped right in front of Dubbo. All he saw was the dead blue-blackish skin interlaced with unnatural electronic signal lights and metal tubes. It reached down, grabbed him by the neck and lifted him into the air. He felt the underlays of the ODST armor grip his skin as the Banshee's claw tightened around his neck. It caused his helmet to fall off, hitting the ground. The underlays protected his neck from being crushed.
Still, he couldn't breathe. His light shielding failed. He saw the Banshee extend its other claw, ignoring the two other marines as their bullets seemingly did nothing.
Dubbo reached down his chest plate, grabbed his K-Bar. He thrusted it upward, stabbed the Banshee in the wrist multiple times. Tore away at skin, at metal tubing. Black blood seeped through the wound, stained his K-Bar.
Chriost, it still wouldn't let go.
Something broke through the front fortification wall. Something big enough to stop the Banshee in its tracks. Dubbo couldn't see what it was.
Whatever it was, it shot at the Banshee. And it had a much larger punch than anything the marines had. The Banshee staggered back, dropped Dubbo onto the floor. Dubbo turned to see what it was.
It was one of those big fucking Geth. Red guys. Heavy armored. Looked like he might be able to last a few moments against the fuckin' Master Chief. Geth Prime. He held what Dubbo could only describe as a mounted machine gun. The Geth unleashed another shot. Another red, explosive round hit the Banshee right in its bloated stomach. Its stomach burst, releasing more black blood. The Geth Prime charged forward, raised its foot and kicked it back. The Banshee was knocked onto the ground inside the corridor. He aimed his cannon and eliminated whatever was left of the Banshee. It screamed in agony as it turned into ashes.
"Dubbo Lieutenant." It said in a menacing and deep voice. The Prime turned to him as he got off the ground. "Geth Prime mobile platform one-three-five-five. Command unit of Geth Siege Section one."
Dubbo grabbed his assault rifle. He took a second to catch his breath. He grabbed his bucket from the floor and put it back on.
"Forward Reaper defenses clear. Standing by." The Geth Prime reported.
...
The plateau, the home of Turian command and one of the few strongholds on Menae, was also inaccessible. The Reapers had created a nearly impenetrable no fly zone in exosphere above. Only Turian fighters and interceptors managed to break through, and maybe, maybe a supply ship every once in a while.
It had been no secret that General Corinthus was beyond relieved UNSC forces had finally showed up, along with the Geth and Quarian armada. The strategic map had already been updated. UNSC, Geth, and Quarian drop zones were now spread across the surface of the moon.
In preparation for the invasion, remnants of Turian Blackwatch and scattered combat elements of the tenth legion located outside of the plateau eliminated as many Reaper AA in the region as they could for the Geth main invasion. To the Reapers… Well, to a normal strategist it just seemed like the unimportant rhythms of war as Turian troops tried to clear out MSRs and punch landing zones for supply ships.
It was brilliant.
At least, according to plan.
A UNSC frigate, Everchosen, had crash landed and its debris had spread across nearly thirty kilometers. The rest of the UNSC frigates were forced to, as the human saying goes, "throw all their sticks into the wind." None of the insertion troops had made it to their designated drop zones. Luckily though, the UNSC forces drew the Reapers' attention so Geth forces landed mostly unscathed.
UNSC landing zones were unsecured. And that either meant they had to land at Geth landing zones once or send in another wave of insertion troops. Landing at Geth LZs would be dangerous, funneling thousands of assets and supplies into a handful of places and deploying another wave would take too much time.
The plan was already falling apart. And so far, no one in the UNSC had been able to contact him.
As strange as it seemed, the UNSC had dropped the ball. There was only one thing to do now.
NCOs barked at soldiers to hurry up. Officers gathered as many men as they could into makeshift platoons. Turian loadmasters directed troops to their designated transports. The hum and vibrations of ships began to start up. Platoons of Turians were dividing into squads, loading onto shuttles. Support crews were reading fighters, making sure everything was set. Krogan teams were loading up gear and heavy ordnance.
And in the center was Corinthus surrounded by a few officers as he watched atop a stack of crates, arms crossed. Palaven burned behind him… It began to rain. It wasn't water. It slightly burned the armored plates on his head. He looked up. Numerous Geth frigates were in low orbit, fighting Reaper destroyers head on. A few were damaged. Engines were burning blue and red fire… Liquid eezo was pouring from their engines.
It was raining pure eezo.
"Sir?" A captain ran up to him. Behind him came a battalion of Krogan and Turian troops. "Assault section formed up."
The assault battalion formed up into their platoons, waiting to board the remaining transports on Corinthus' orders.
One of the officers that surrounded the general handed a rifle. He grabbed it and held it in the air.
"Krogans! Turians, men of Our Empire!" He yelled so the whole airfield could hear him. Through the rumbles of distant artillery fire and thunderous roars of space combat above. Through the shrieking of distant gunfire and even the metallic and deafening strikes of the Reaper capital ship's tentacles in the far distance. "Turians! Our Empire needs us! Today is the day we shall no longer be on the defensive! Today, the Reapers shall know that Our Empire, the Turian people, is forever! That no matter how much they take, how much they destroy, our resolve is only strengthened. Our Empire only reborn! Give your life, and know that Our Empire shall rise because of you! Krogans! Though history has made us enemies, this war will forge us brothers eternal! Reap your glory! Your vengeance! Your hatred and honor! And know that Our Empire stands with you now and always! This is your war! This is our war!"
That seemed to moralize the men. Krogans cheered in disorganized fashion, excited for action. The Turians, driven by their duty, by the Empire, began to chant the allegiance oath they took when they became citizens. Near perfect unison. A beautiful rhythmic chorus.
Corinthus got down from the stack of crates. The battalion began to move out andorganized onto transports. Something broke from the crowd. It had black underlays covered in spacious white armor with red outlines. A menacing helmet angled into a thin point, almost like a beak. A single blue visor gave it an angry look.
"Sir? This is Commander Sarah Palmer. Her team broke through the Reaper front lines." The captain reported.
The Spartan was much taller than any Turian, and slightly taller than the Krogan. Corinthus extended his hand and she shook it.
"General, sir." Commander Palmer reported. "My Spartan landing team is part of Task Force Assassin."
"Well, Commander, then you must've heard what happened with the other landing teams."
"We have, General. None of the ODSTs have made it to the landing site. Colonel Buck's men are scattered in the wind. His main priority would be to organize his troops, maybe coordinate with the Geth."
"Indeed. UNSC and Geth forces have drawn a lot of Reaper forces off the front lines, leaving a lot of my men free. We're going to secure those UNSC landing zones. The invasion cannot be delayed."
"Then it looks like my Spartans will help." Commander Palmer said.
Corinthus nodded. The loadmasters were almost done loading the two battalions' worth of men. Technician crews were nearly done reading the fighter escorts. Signal teams were heading into position, prepping fighters for launch. And in the distance, Reaper capital ships still marched on.
"Your Spartans will ride with me and my personal guard. Ready yourselves."
"Good to go, General." Palmer replied.
...
"Reaching the landing zone, standby." The pilot said on the intercom.
Garrus let the rushing wind hit his mandibles. The transport group plus fighter escort, carrying two battalions of Turians, Krogans, and Spartans stayed thirty meters above the surface. They began to split up, each assigned to a specific landing zone.
"Sir?" A Turian officer said. Garrus turned around. The officer was speaking to General Corinthus. "Comm line. FM frequency. From a Lieutenant Colonel Buck, Nineteenth Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Battalion."
"Put him through." Corinthus ordered.
The holo-display was near the front of the cargo hold, next to the cockpit. Corinthus activated the display and a man in heavy black armor with his helmet off appeared. Garrus couldn't describe humans very well, but he had brown hair and looked like he was in his mid….thirties..?
"General, sir." Lt. Colonel Buck began. "We see you are launching a strike on our landing zones."
"Is that a problem, Colonel?" Corinthus asked.
"The more the merrier, General. Our sticks in the wind ain't something we're not used to. Elements of Task Force Assassin are already en route to assault LZ Sugarcane. Priority are those AA guns so Army and Marine infantry can begin their landings."
"I copy. We'll hold off on the attack runs for now." Corinthus turned off the hologram. He turned to Garrus. "Our fighters will distract the AA. Transports will have to land five-hundred meters off target. Reapers don't know it's a priority so there shouldn't be heavy resistance."
"Right. Of course." Garrus couldn't help but be sarcastic. "What about armor?"
"Last Turian armor died on Menae two months ago." Corinthus responded.
Well then.
There was a loud explosion. The transport began to rock back and forth. Garrus headed back to the cargo bay doors. The transport next to theirs disappeared in a beam of pure blue light. Once it emerged, it was going down in tattered, burning pieces.
The cargo bay doors closed. The pilot spoke on the intercom. "Standby, we're going in."
...
2 Hours After Drop
"On your word, sir." The ODST said as he aimed his Spartan Laser at one of the many weak points of the Reaper AA cannon.
Dubbo had stationed his men along a large ridgeline that led up to the main plateau where a General Corinthus was desperately holding out twenty kilometers away. Below was a small valley, with smooth rolling hills forming the opposite wall. The Geth had stationed their troops along those hills, waiting. In the valley itself three hundred meters below was the location of the Reaper Hades cannon. It was protected by heavy Reaper fortifications and murder holes.
This was one of the main drop zones for marine infantry. Priority was to eliminate that damn AA cannon. All other personnel were secondary.
It was odd, but they found no scanners, no enemy patrols to warn the main body of Reapers of an impending attack. Maybe because this was way behind front lines, or they were so arrogant they didn't think anyone could really attack this damn place. Maybe this was a low priority target for them? Maybe since the battlefield just utterly changed, they were still trying to respond.
Dubbo wasn't sure, and he wasn't sure where the hell Lt. Colonel Buck was, but orders from him were to gather as many ODSTs as he could and plan and commence an assault on the nearest drop zone. Luckily the Geth were more than willing to spare a few platoons.
Weird bastards if you ask Dubbo. They relied on macro tactics. 'Platoons' consisted of hundreds of troops, and 'squads' were around fifty strong. Guess it made things easier when you can communicate tactical and strategic plans at the speed of light.
But, for regular people, it made joint operations a bit more difficult. Not impossible, but Christ it would've been good to do some exercises with these fuckers.
In any event, they deployed something called Javelin snipers. They first explained what it was with scientific mumbo jumbo and some alien language called 'math', but after some interpretations from Roland on Infinity comms, they could basically pack as much a punch as a fifty mil. Those composed the main force.
Dubbo got on the tac-comm. It'd been hell for Lance Corporal Amos to try and get a channel going with the Geth. They apparently didn't use eezo lines, but something far, far more advanced. Whatever the hell that meant. They didn't have the time to establish a full line of communications, so they had to go with a more old-fashioned route. Amos handed him a box. Laser designator. Dubbo set it up along a dirt mound and flashed it three times.
Hopefully the Reapers didn't see infrared. But if they did, it'd be far too late for them to figure out what the hell was going on.
On the other ridge, his HUD indicated an anomaly. A thin, infrared UNSC laser indicator aimed a couple meters from his position. It blinked on and off three times.
Thank Christ.
"All sections this is Aussie Boy actual," Dubbo said on the tac-comms. Medium range. "On challenge phrase, fire on designated targets. Machine gun teams keep your sectors of fire."
"Copy that, standing by."
"Roger, we hear you."
"Copy all, give us the word."
"Roger, ready to slay bodies."
Dubbo observed the valley. The Reapers who weren't occupied with defenses creepily stood still in orderly formations, as if waiting for orders.
Then again, they apparently took the dead from the enemy side and turned them into cybernetic troops. Undead soldiers… It reminded Dubbo too much of disturbing and horrifying memories from the past.
Dubbo gave the challenge phrase. Screamed it into the tac-comm.
"Pull off! Pull off! Pull off!" The ODST began to prime up his Spartan Laser. Other teams did the same, after a couple seconds lasers went off. Five brilliant quick streams of electronic red light hit weak points all over the Hades AA cannon. Quickly following this were thin black streaks of light from Geth Javelins that hit other points of the cannon.
And it seemed all the explosions went off at once. Red and black metal was thrown off the Hades cannon. Parts of its legs were consumed in fire. ODST machine gun teams began to open up, laying down suppressive fire in their sectors. Marines with DMRs and battle rifles provided fire discipline, eliminating as many Reapers as they could before they headed into cover. Tac-comm began to light up.
"Lay 'em down, knock those fuckers out!"
"Hades cannon isn't down. Get me another salvo!"
"Keep your fucking sector, goddamnit!"
The machine gun team near Dubbo's position began to let rounds go down range in five to seven second interval bursts. In the fortification below, one of the main doors in the defensive line opened up. Zombies, Husks, whatever the fuck they want to call them, came pouring out.
"Gunner team, redirect fire on the front door! MOW THOSE FUCKERS DOWN!" Dubbo ordered.
"Aye, aye, sir. Letting the grass grow." The gunner team responded. The mounted heavy machine gun slowly turned to the front door, unleashing a barrage of bullets.
Christ, they still kept coming. As Husks went down and turned to ash, more took their place, pushing forward.
Fuckers won't give up.
Tac-comm chatter was right. That Hades cannon still wasn't done. But it sure as hell took a beating. It was leaning on its weak legs, off balance. It was slowly, and probably unsuccessfully trying to rebalance itself.
"LAY DOWN ANOTHER SALVO! KICK THAT THING'S FUCKING ARSE!" Dubbo yelled.
He saw a ravager make its way towards a unoccupied murder hole in the defense fortifications. It fired a volley at the machine gun team near Dubbo's position. He saw an ODST flying.
Shit.
Machine gun down. The enemy just created defilade in this sector
"GET ME A SAW TEAM UP HERE, NOW!" Dubbo ordered. A Spartan Laser from another team along the ridgeline opened fire, knocking out the ravager's position. Metal collapsed. Fire vented from the murder hole.
The Geth team fired another round of Javelins. It hit more weak points along the Hades cannon, weakening it further.
The Husks began to climb the ridge wall, in absolute defilade from the other machine gunner teams.
"Shotguns up! We're getting in close." Dubbo ordered. One of the marines handed him a shotgun. Others began to unholster their CQC weapons.
The husks reached the ridge lines, sprinting at ODST positions. A Husk climbed up near Dubbo, tried to outstretch a hand to grab him. Dubbo blew a hole about the size of a baseball in the fucker's head. The Reaper fell off the ridge into the valley below.
Dubbo cocked the shotgun. The Husks began to charge their machine gun positions. Or at the very least distract the gunners and provide even more defilade.
He looked over to the other valley ridgeline. The Geth were opening up on the Reaper fortifications. The Reapers seemed less focused on them and more focused on Dubbo's men.
Of course.
Dubbo saved two combat teams to deal with this shit. But Christ, he didn't think he'd have to deal with this many fucking Husks.
More began to climb near Dubbo's position. Amos grabbed his pistol and began shooting them down one at a time.
The Lieutenant was out of his league taking thirty ODSTs, most of them from the nineteenth battalion's machine gun section, and staging an assault on a hardened target. Orders were orders, but-
One of the Husks' heads blew up like a watermelon. It was a Javelin round from the Geth. Fuck. Call it fucking close, huh? They were beginning to provide whatever cover fire they could for Dubbo's marines. Most of the machine gun positions weren't firing, dealing with the Husks.
Something grabbed him from behind, gripped his shoulders. Its claws dug into his shoulder plates, trying to rip them off the black underlay suit. The Husk was lighter than Dubbo. The Lieutenant leaned forward, lifting the fucker into the air. He twisted his body to the side, and landed on the ground. Crushed the Husk under his weight.
The bastard let go. Dubbo rolled over, got up, and repeatedly hit him in the face. Metal knuckles left a deep dent, that's for sure.
The Husk's body began to turn to ash. Dubbo turned, found more Husks climbing the ridge line. Goddamn, at this rate they'll be overrunned.
He thought he saw something in the distant horizon. Looked like ships. Definitely not UNSC. Definitely not Reaper either.
They were coming closer. Around ten or fifteen transports protected by fighter escort. The fighters dipped low, aimed at the damaged Hades cannon.
"Jesus Christ! SOMEONE GET ON THE LINE AND CALL DANGER CLOSE!" Dubbo ordered. No one responded on comms. It was just static screams. Everyone was too busy to relay info.
Someone came on general comms. A scratchy signal, but Dubbo recognized the voice.
"This is General Vakarian. We see you on scope. We'll hold off danger close and reinforce your position. Stand by!"
...
They had looped around the plateau, hoping to avoid most of the Reaper Hades cannon. Looks like Buck was right, they were already assaulting Reaper positions.
Each cargo door had a machine gunner. They readied up, aimed at the fortifications. The fortification themselves weren't the best. Reapers hadn't prepared. Garrus could imagine they were so arrogant that they never thought the Turians would push them back this far.
The transports skimmed over the valley hills. Garrus could see Geth below. Assault squads were led by Primes as they pushed forward under heavy ravanger fire. Over on the ridge line that formed the other valley wall, lead bullets rained down. Husks were climbing the walls, trying to overrun UNSC marine positions. Strange. The best these Husks could do was suppress UNSC sectors of fire, and ravagers would at most only slow down the Geth. Unless it was a desperate attempt to hold their position, Garrus couldn't see the strategy.
But, Lieutenant Dubbo was smart to attack from both sides. Now all Garrus was wondering was where the Reaper reinforcements will attack from.
The transports began to split up, some to the valley hills, and a couple to the ridgeline to reinforce UNSC machine gun positions. Garrus' shuttle and the rest stormed the valley, carefully skimming over the fortification. The Hades cannon was leaning, pointing northwards. It looked like two of its legs were completely out of commission, and one was heavily damaged. Still, the pilots did their best to stay out of the cannon's line of sight.
Machine gunners then opened fire. Modified Turian Starlight machine guns fired A.P rounds. It ripped apart metal fortifications.
The ships pushed forward about five-hundred meters away from the fortifications, flew in a spiral rotation until they touched down.
Ravager rounds began to open up.
One of the transports that landed was hit, turned into metal wreckage and fire. Garrus didn't see any of the Turian soldiers or Krogans get out in time. The Turians disembarked under fire, screaming as they charged.
"MOVE! MOVE IT!"
"FOR THE EMPIRE!"
"LEAVE NO SURVIVORS!"
"I LOVE MY JOB!"
"COME ON YOU FILTHY APES! YOU WANNA LIVE FOREVER!?" A Turian NCO screamed.
General Corinthus' personal guard were Turian biotic soldiers pulled off their mother Cabal units. They raised biotic shields around whoever they could. Ravager rounds were absorbed into the blue bubbles. Corinthus and Garrus' team stepped off the transport. The general unsheathed what looked like an ancient Turian sword in one hand and a Paladin pistol in his other. The only tactical purpose in that sword was to inspire the charging troops. Other than that, it was dead weight.
The transports lifted off. Garrus stayed low, remained behind the mass of Turian troops as they charged the fortification walls. He received a comm horn.
"Jaysus, mate. Good ta see ya guys!" At times it was hard for Garrus to understand what Lieutenant Dubbo was saying with his heavy accent.
"Copy that!" Garrus merely replied. "Turian and Spartan teams are heading your way to reinforce your positions."
"Naw, mate. Fuck that." Dubbo answered. "I'll get my ass chewed hell and through if I let the big boys pull us out of the shit."
"Well, take it up with them." Garrus cut the line and continued to charge forward.
It seemed most of the ravagers focused on the Turians, leaving heat off the Geth. It freed them up, and they were able to push from the hills, laying down accurate fire.
One of the Primes had a rocket launcher of some sort. But knowing Geth tech, that thing is a lot more powerful than any regular rocket launcher. He aimed it at the fortifications that were blocking the Turians, and mostly Krogan, from charging in and indiscriminately killing everything inside. The rocket fired, hit the target.
It was a specialized implosion munition. A small ball of white light expanded to about ten meters then quickly collapsed on itself, dragging along the fortification barriers that it hit. The metal crumbled and tore away, leaving a large enough hole for them to hit.
This was too easy. Way too easy. The Hades cannon position was going to fall. The Reapers were being assaulted on all fronts and being successfully pushed back. Garrus wasn't sure how important this Hades position was to the Reapers, but with all joint forces converging here they had to know this target was important to them.
Garrus slowed down a little. He looked above, as if he could sense it. Above were Geth frigates in low orbit. One was directly overhead, in a mid-turn. It was broken in half. Metal was ripped apart, bent and wrecked. Black fires erupted. Parts of the ship flew to the planetary surface. Something broke through the wreckage. A menacing hulk with tentacles.
And some of the other Turians and Krogan saw it too.
"INCOMING! FALL BACK!" Garrus screamed. The Turian and Krogan troops began to backup, while a few were petrified.
The hulk landed on the surface, over the Reaper fortifications. Six tentacles supported a black serpent body blocked that stretched into the skies above.
Spirits.
A Reaper capital ship.
It fired its main cannon on the Turian troops nearest to the fortification. The electronic roar of a precision red laser engulfed soldiers.
Garrus saw General Corinthus falling back, fireman carrying an injured Turian.
"I WANT THAT THING DESTROYED!" Corinthus ordered.
...
2 Hours, 32 Minutes After Drop
It was hell. Buck had to scavenge what he could and still stage an assault. Luckily, UNSC Everchosen chose to launch all their Heron pods in a frenzied panic. Most survived and landed in a tight cluster near his position. They were loaded with troop transport hogs and those new Army M650 Mastodon armored transports. As for the ODSTs, most were lost in the wind, spread about as officers tried to gather whoever they could and still fill out orders.
There was little time. Buck organized the army runts and whatever ODSTs were with him and headed out for the nearest LZ, LZ Sugarcane. General Corinthus and Lieutenant Dubbo were already commenced an assault there.
The convoy turned a corner. The vics were spread two-hundred meters apart. They were pushing through these large hills to reach a valley that contained the Reaper AA cannons protecting the LZ.
"This is Boxman actual, hal copy over." Major Stacker's voice played on a direct comm line with Buck. Stacker was in the last vic of the convoy, watching the rear.
"This is Big Poppa actual, go ahead." Buck replied.
"One of our scanner guys just picked up something weird from the Reaper AA battery. May want to check in with Dubbo." Stacker said.
"Roger." Buck switched over to task force comms. There was some gargled static. "Aussie Bear actual, come in. Over."
More static. Buck could hear bits and pieces. "-Break. Falling back… Casualties-"
"How far are we from the cannon?" Buck asked the hog driver.
"One klick out. We have to drive through these big-ass hills." She responded.
"All vics, this is Big Poppa." Buck began, "Mastodons, rev up guns. We are REDCON One. Stand by for contact."
The driver swerved her way through increasingly narrow paths. The convoy was forced to scrunch up, now only fifty meters apart. They were almost above the hill line. So close. Buck loaded his battle rifle. Revved the charging handle.
Here they….
The hog broke the hill line, and Buck could see it. The severely damaged Reaper Hades cannon below protected by layers of Reaper fortification. And above it was a Reaper capital ship. It slowly moved its tentacles, maneuvering its body so its main cannon was aimed directly at the convoy.
The driver swerved out of the way, climbed up a steep hill. The cannon fired, eliminating a Mastodon that was following Buck's hog. The laser briefly consumed it, and once it moved on all that was left was burnt wreckage.
"DISPERSE! DISPERSE!" Buck ordered on task force comms. The convoy spread out, climbing up the hills as best they could. The hog skimmed by Geth troops in entrenched positions, firing on the Reaper capital ship.
"Welcome to the cluster fuck, sir!" Dubbo said on direct comms. His voice was coming in clearly. Christ. That Reaper ship was so massive it blocked out long distance communications.
"How the hell you doing, Lieutenant?" Buck asked.
"Husks overran most of my gun positions. We don't have enough firepower to take that big wanker out. We're pulling out over the ridge line." Dubbo reported.
Dubbo's right. Anything less than a MAC gun wouldn't puncture that armor. That Squid will tear them the fuck up.
The hog stopped behind a small sloop, shielded for the moment from the Reaper's cannon. At least until it moved. Or just destroy the entire sloop and them along with it.
Buck got out. He switched to fleet comms.
"Big Poppa actual to Infinity actual, hal copy?"
Captain Lasky's voice came on over the radio. "This is Captain Lasky. Go ahead."
"Request immediate MAC strike on my pos. Reaper capital ship. Priority target." Buck responded.
"Colonel, we have no UNSC naval forces in position to provide a MAC strike. I'll try to get the nearest cruiser into position, but Reaper resistance is heavy."
"Sir, with all due respect, if we don't get exospheric support, we cannot secure any of the landing zones. Interrogative. What the fuck is the Navy doing-?"
"Buck, Lieutenant Colonel." A robotic voice said. Buck turned from the hog to a Geth soldier. His armor was painted white and he held a heavily modified sniper rifle that was almost as big as Buck. "We have Geth dreadnaughts that can provide support with its main cannon. It fires a point-five ton slug at-"
"We need it to target that Reaper capital ship otherwise it'll prosecute us to hell. Can it do that?"
"Roger, roger." The Geth said. He stood still for a split second, looked up to the sky, and back to Buck. "Geth dreadnought on standby. Requesting immediate laser resignation of target. Precision orbital bombardment at this distance shall take some time to impact. We suggest-"
"Got it." Buck switched back to task force comms. "This is Big Poppa actual to Task Force Assassin, stand by for traffic. Over."
The Reaper capital ship was shifting, and the ground of Menae trembled. Above, Turian fighters were commencing precision strikes on what Naval intelligence believed were the weak points of the ship. It didn't seem to do any damage. Turian shuttles were lifting off into the sky, pulling a full retreat to their base at the edge of the ridge.
"All elements of Task Force Assassin, fall back from LZ Sugarcane. Clear the way. Clear the way. Exospheric to Surface orbital bombardment has been authorized. Clear the way.
"Dubbo?" Buck got back on the direct line. "Laze that Reaper. We're gonna get some rounds on that fucker."
"Roger, I'll do what I can. But Reaper zombie fucks have cut us off. We can't move."
"What's the ETI?" Buck said to the Geth soldier.
"ETI: fifteen minutes."
Buck got back in the hog. The driver fired up the engine. He looked back across the hills. Most of the convoy had scattered and was providing direct fire on that Reaper, though it was rather pointless. That was a hard target. Nothing was going to pierce that armor.
"Get me some hogs! We're going riding!" Buck ordered. The people in the back hopped out. The driver punched it, climbed up the slope and flew down the hillside.
The hog hit the valley floor running. Most of the Reaper fortifications had been crushed under the Reaper legs, leaving plenty of room to maneuver. One of the legs came crashing down. The driver dodged it, swerved around. The hog seemed to float, pushed off the ground by the sheer force of the capital ship.
Other hogs were following close behind. Another Reaper leg lifted up, and quickly came down on one of them. It disappeared under red metal.
The ridge line was only a few hundred meters out. Buck saw a small path they could push through. He pointed it out, and the hogs made their way. They swerved through the Reaper's legs, jumping over destroyed fortifications and pushing through red and black fires.
They reached the ridge path. The hog ran over two surprised husks and began to go up the path. Buck could see a few ODSTs up ahead, holding off Husks with shotguns and assault rifles. The hog swerved around, made a stop over a few husk bodies.
"GET THE FUCK IN!" Buck screamed. The ODSTs followed the orders, hastily got in the cargo bed. The driver punched it, through ridge walls and cliffsides.
"HOW MANY OF YOU ARE LEFT?" Buck asked.
"THOSE HUSKS WERE FUCKING US. MOST OF THE MACHINE GUN POSITIONS WERE KNOCKED OUT! WE DON'T KNOW! SPARTANS AND TURIANS WERE TRYING TO REINFORCE USE BUT THEY HAD TO PULL OFF!"
The driver raced up a cliff, skirting on an edge that lead into the valley below. The legs of the Reaper capital ship were about a half-a-klick taller than the ridge. And they were getting a lot closer.
The driver was having a more difficult time driving. It felt like the vic was being dragged in by the Reaper's gravity.
"DUBBO, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU!?" Buck screamed on the direct comms.
"I SEE YOU, MATE! WE'RE READY TO GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!"
The hog passed the cliff, turned right down a slight slope. They reached a small opening with makeshift UNSC barriers. Dubbo and two other ODSTs were holding back the Husks.
The ODSTs broke rank, piled into the back of the hog. It was...a little cramped back there. They were holding eight ODSTs in the back. They gripped onto railings, barely in the cargo bed. Dubbo was the last one on.
The driver punched it, pushed through another Husk body and decided to head toward the ridge line to the flat plateau above instead of trying to regroup with the rest of the convoy.
"Big Poppa to all Task Force Assassin elements. Fall back. Fall back. ETI of orbital bombardment: three minutes.". Buck looked back. Three other hogs had made it, carrying marines to overcapacity.
He couldn't see the valley, but he assumed the Geth, Turians, and whatever's left of the UNSC convoy were egressing as fast as they could.
There was less resistance as they continued, less Husks spread about. At least the ridges and jagged hills were providing defilade from the Reaper capital ship.
"Geth Dreadnought zero-one-three to all friendly units in the area of operations, brace for immediate impact of orbital bombardment rounds." A robotic voice announced on general comms.
The hogs slowed down as they reached a flat area. The beginning of the plateau. Buck along with the other ODSTs hoped out. They could clearly see the monstrous Reaper capital ship, firing its main cannon at a Turian shuttle as it tried to escape. It went down in a sweeping arc, like a burning comet.
Palaven was in the horizon, surrounded by thousands of friendly and enemy ships as they exchanged fire. Bursts of blue, yellow, and red lights. Each ship was glazed in the dark yellow sun. It almost looked like fucking Christmas.
Something came from directly above. It was absolutely silent, a brilliant thin streak of pure white light. It left a shadow image in Buck's eyes. It pierced the center of the Reaper's squid body. Another thin streak came down, ripping off one of its tentacles. Then another streak, and another.
The explosions followed shortly after. Blue flame engulfed the bottom portion of the squid. The shockwave knocked Buck off his feet, kicked the air out of his lungs. It tipped over the hogs and knocked over other ODSTs.
Buck's body was shaking under the heavy black armor. He took off his bucket, gasping for air as sweat poured down his checks. He was on his hands and knees, trying to search for the other ODSTs.
He couldn't speak. He saw the ODSTs on the ground, trying to get up. Dubbo seemed to be mostly ok, trying to help who he could.
Buck looked back. The Reaper capital ship had collapsed under its own weight. Its upper crescent crown was the only thing Buck was able to see as it fell to the earth
Buck switched to Infinity comms. He spoke with raspy breath, "Infinity actual, this is Big Poppa actual, LZ Sugarcane is secure...Break… We're...we're rounding up stragglers."
…
Captain Lasky was leaning over the holo-table, observing every detail as ships pushed their orbital arcs to secure more space.
The skies of Menae were contested. Lasky had already lost three frigates, and the Geth and Quarians had lost a total of thirteen ships. But Lasky had just gotten word of some good news. Task Force Assassin had secured a landing zone.
Once Battle Group Dakota secured a more definite position in exosphere, he could start deploying marine and army infantry and desperately needed logistics
"Roland, prep to move the Infinity in a low arc over LZ Sugarcane. Get me UNSC James Mattis and Gypsy Danger. They'll provide support, drop off their troops once we secure the air."
"Copy, sir. Rotating ships." Roland brought up a holographic screen and typed in command codes.
"Watkins, prep MAC guns, archer pods, and fifty mill. We're re-engaging." Lasky ordered. The bridge crew began to prep the ship, adjusting and correcting flight mass for a low tropospheric incursion.
The bridge doors opened. Unknown bio-signature on deck. There was only one person aboard who could trigger that alarm. The Captain turned to find Miranda Lawson standing respectfully at the door, arms behind her back.
The bridge crew tensed up, eyeing her.
"At ease," Captain Lasky said. "Back to work."
The crew followed orders, looked away from the watchdog.
That's what she was anyways. A watchdog. Just like what Shepard's team was to Blue Team, she was to the Infinity. Still, the Captain wasn't sure what she would do if they did something not to the Citadel's liking.
And in all that… Captain Lasky did have orders to stop her from sending reports… But in the end… It just didn't seem fair to him. Shepard's team was…so close…from discovering the truth, from learning all of it. And it was even more disturbing to learn that Cerberus more than likely knew…everything the UNSC was trying to hide.
Despite their help, the UNSC just…discarded them. Even from a strategic viewpoint, disregarding the perspectives of those from the ground, how might help with the situation, just seems…foolish.
She was thin. Very thin. She had long black hair and dark blue eyes. She wore this strange white skintight suit with hexagonal patterns, and black sleeves, legging boats, and choker necklace. Maybe it was some sort of protective weaving? Lasky wasn't really sure what the point of it was. He could see multiple scars and small cuts that were healing all over her face. There was a prominent one above her right eye. It looked like it went deep.
Miranda Lawson had some sort of English accent. Lasky couldn't quite pin what it was exactly. British? Australian maybe? "So, Captain, do you still believe I'm lying?"
"I'm sorry?"
"Aboard the Citadel you suggested that I couldn't be trusted, that I could've been making all this up."
Captain Lasky nodded, "forgot about that… Professional courtesy. No hard feelings."
Miranda nodded. She looked over to Roland. He looked…worried, "you're easy to read, Captain. Unlike your superiors."
Captain Lasky wasn't sure what to say at first
Captain Lasky motioned for them to stand down and return to their stations. They slowly and cautiously did so. Lasky crossed his arms. "You're part of Shepard's crew, right? Why'd he pick you to be here?"
She leaned against the holo-table, "well, for starters, I'm smarting than both of you. I'm able to keep an eye on the whole operation."
Lasky smirked. He wasn't sure how she'd exactly stop the UNSC, but maybe they had some sort of fallback plan they didn't know about.
"I thought you had deployed with the rest of your team." Lasky asked.
"I gave command to Garrus. He can handle it. I was busy learning about the Infinity. You guys could really use some inertia dampeners."
"I'll make note of that. Any reason why you're here?"
"Checking in I guess. That's why Shepard sent me here." Miranda sighed, "that, and I'm getting a little bored."
"Well, I don't know how to make you useful." Lasky remembered ready a brief dossier NCIS had written on her. "If you're wondering what Lord Hood and HIGHCOM have done about Cerberus, I'm outta the loop."
"Ah…" She nodded, looked past Captain Lasky. The front of the Infinity was facing towards the equator of Palaven. "Aren't you part of HIGHCOM?"
"In a way. Like the Marine Corps is part of the Navy. I'm only on there for more...ceremonial reasons? And either way, I only got this job because the last guy got fired."
"Lovely." She opened up those glowy orange comm devices. Omni-tools. "Why was he offed?"
"Pissed off the wrong people," Roland quietly responded.
"Seems to be the theme here," Miranda commented. She got off her Omni-tool. "You're the only one that's working with us so far, Cap'ain. Why is that?"
"A lot of your crew has asked me that." Lasky sighed. He ignored the question. "Do you know how Shepard and the Master Chief are doing?"
Miranda crossed her arms, was silent for a moment "They enter Thessia in a couple hours, at least last I heard from Shepard.
"Why do you care for the Master Chief so much? The rest of the UNSC seems to...worship him, but...you're different."
Maybe she was smarter than Lasky and Shepard. At the least she seemed to be very observant.
"Who else will care for him?" Lasky asked.
Miranda grunted, "you still haven't answered my question…" She trailed off for a moment, "or perhaps maybe you have."