Aboard Citadel Station
C-SEC Offices
2557 Military Calendar, 08:45
September 2nd
Captain Florence discreetly popped open an energy drink and downed it as fast as he could without anyone looking. It's not exactly illegal, just more of an enlisted thing.
Lord Hood was deliberating to his fleet admirals. Captain Florence waited outside, with two other Spartans, on-call if they needed anything.
Ew. That was a disgusting thought. On-call. An errand boy. There wasn't anything wrong with HIGHCOM, nor especially with Lord Hood. They were a lot smarter than him... scarier than him. Just... the idea of him being a callboy… Wasn't really his career path.
What could he do though? There were worse fates considering everything that had happened and yet he was still bitching. In the end, thank God he and his crew got out- alive.
Captain Florence just hoped that the Navy was taking just as good of care with them, as they were towards him. Sure, a lot of standby, but at least it's peace and quiet.
He watched the intel and security teams work. Only one Turian pretended to work, switching between an intel screen and what looked like a finance market graph. The Captain looked a bit. Ever since the war started seven months ago, the market collapsed and defense and certain tech stocks went through the roof… One stock in particular, something called Gamecorp, GMC, was being targeted and going through the roof at unnatural levels. Looks like the Turian had some shares as he held the line.
Overall, it was silent, with security tightened to the highest levels. Lord Hood was in the briefing room for maybe two hours now, going over the fine details. Still, compared to the Great War, this was a cakewalk. Among the UNSC staff, the feelings of uncertainty and insecurity were long gone. Now, it's replaced by confidence and focus as each staff member went through dozens of reports, compiling them into briefings and field updates for either HIGHCOM, NAVCOM, or FLEETCOM. Most of them were relatively young, even among the higher-ranked intelligence staff.
Still, it's reassuring, and from all the news reports and briefings Mark had seen, the Palaven front is going as well as anyone would expect considering the timeframe. Marines were taking the brunt of the casualties, a seemingly intertwining fact of their history. ODSTs and regular First Marine Division infantry were fighting like hell to secure every naval logistical LZ and knock out any Reaper AA or anti-exospheric gun they could find.
Captain Florence wondered how many Medal of Honors will be issued in this campaign.
As for Spartan operations, those were still classified to him. But he imagined intel sanitization and retrieval, wetwork, and various clandestine search and rescue missions were in the work. The Infinity maintained a high orbit around the poles of the moon. UNSC frigates, along with various Geth and Turian frigates maintained lower orbits, providing direct naval support for ground troops.
The main force, the UNSC Army and Geth infantry, were slowly establishing MSRs and trying their best to slow down Reaper ships. The only weapons that seemed to work against a Reaper ship short of a ship's MAC cannon were Mammoths. Cobras provided some support, targeting sensitive joints, and seemed to slow them down.
The Captain sighed and strolled around the large abandoned C-SEC building, tedium beginning to bite into his bones. Every once in a while he would find scars and debris from old battles... when a Reaper vanguard named Sovereign assaulted the Citadel. Never been cleaned up, even now.
Near every entrance point, the marines had set up shop. Guards and reinforced shields protected every possible point of ingress. Sensors decorated every grate and panel. Machine guns in various sectors of fire provided suppression. Hell, even at the main point of ingress - the front door obviously - was even guarded by a Gauss cannon, as if heavy armor could somehow fit through there.
Still… Ever since the meeting with the Illusive Man… This morning, crates of weapons and munitions arrived. Heavy weapons. Launchers, railguns, and a few Spartan Lasers. They were distributed amongst the internal security and Spartan QRF teams.
Whatever the hell they were expecting, perhaps it was heavy armor; Captain Florence overheard several Marines chit-chatting. There was also a buzz from the underground that Gauss-hogs and Scorpions were being deployed. But that was two days ago. It has been eerily quiet, since then.
Until fucking now. The XO of security, the now trying-to-redeem-himself Major Reynolds, comms blasted with all sorts of traffic. The chaotic sounds blasted through Mark's attempts of day-to-day conversation.
"What the hell was that?"
"Control, we have reports of an explosion and small arms fire-"
"Hostile contact. All units ready up. Prepare to initiate Cole Protocol and evacuate all command staff-"
Then static. Dead static as Major Reynolds got on the line and tried to get a sitrep.
He looked at Captain Florence, dead scared after a moment of trying. "What the fuck?"
Captain Florence got online, trying to get a signal. "Anyone receiving?! Hal copy!?"
Static.
And his mind went to work…. Coordinated assault. Comms blackout. Even on UNSC encrypted channels. Someone knew how to access UNSC channels.
Captain Florence turned back to Major Reynolds, "Get Lord Hood out! Now!"
Major Reynolds nodded. Right as they both turned to the briefing room door, small arms fire went off. From an eezo-based pistol.
"GET DOWN! GET DOWN!" Major Reynolds grabbed Captain Florence and threw him onto the ground. In response to the pistol, UNSC magnums went off in quick succession. Mark heard a body collapse. He turned from the ground and saw a Systems Alliance intel officer slumped over at his station. UNSC sailors surrounded him with magnums still aiming at the dead body.. One got in close and tapped him on the shoulder, checking if he was dead.
Two other sailors were dead. Another one was injured, kneeling on the ground as he gripped his guts.
"CORPSMEN! CORPSMEN!" Someone called.
"FUCKNG BITCH!" The injured UNSC sailor yelled. "I fucking caught him accessing UNSC comms! He inserted some kinda fucking code! He saw me and he pulled a fucking-!"
His words were interrupted by more screams of pain from the other side of the room. Mark saw more sailors subduing another Systems Alliance Officer right, right as she was reaching for her gun. She was screeching like a feral animal. It took multiple UNSC personnel to arrest her on the floor.
"Holy fuck... do these dumbasses not screen their people?" Growled Mark, as he reached the door and pounded the hatch in morse. Quick successions... S.O.S. S.O.S. The doors opened up, and Lord Hood appeared, calm and thoughtful, despite being surrounded by his alert Spartan guards.
"Sir…" Florence began, "We're under assault by-"
"Cerberus," Lord Hood finished. "Initiate Cole Protocol, and begin evacuation of the command staff. Citadel staff included."
"Sir, with all due respect…" Mark waved over to the Systems Alliance officer freaking out. "Look at what the fuck happened!"
"Noted, Captain…" Lord Hood walked forward into the security center, still surrounded by his guard. He approached the officer. She turned to him, with malice burning in her eyes, and tried to claw her way despite the weight of the now six sailors. "Does anyone recognize this woman?"
One of the marines ran to a terminal and brought out a datapad, "Staff Lieutenant Gonzales, Systems Alliance Intelligence. Been working here since we set up shop."
"She was screened…" Captain Florence said. "By us. Everything we can think of. How much data did she steal?"
"From her terminal history since the beginning, nothing," the marine said. "The AIs have been keeping track. Eye movements, physical profile, posture, everything. They would've alerted us. We would've known if it were a clone or synth of whatever… Only for the last five minutes something was off… AIs sent the alerts but….human error… Looks like she only accessed comm systems."
"Restore systems immediately," Lord Hood. "Evacuate Citadel staff but the Systems Alliance."
Lord Hood looked to Major Reynolds. The Fleet Admiral only nodded.
Major Reynolds stepped up, "wipe the terminals! Now! Ready up! We're about to be hit!"
A klaxon sounded off and the thuds of footsteps echoed in the C-SEC station. Sailors began to enter kill commands into the terminals. In less than seconds, petabytes upon petabytes were wiped off the terminals and the computers permanently shut down by melting their own central cores and storages. Just for good measure, a team of marines began to pass around X4 charges.
"Sir…" A Spartan said, "I can't reach FLEETCOM or the rest of HIGHCOM. I can't even reach our defense fleet…"
"I can't reach any other marine sections…" Major Reynolds said.
Textbook asymmetrical fucking warfare.
In all honesty, an enemy blitz such as this was never planned for. Sure, you can have the superior numbers and tech but if the enemy had control of the battle tempo, and you didn't, none of it mattered. Hit the logistical supply lines, don't permit them to establish an effective MSR, and disrupt communication and headquarter points, you could take a superior force down.
The UNSC security force aboard the Citadel was a total of four-thousand marines and two-hundred Spartan-IVs, along with the massive force of eighty-thousand C-SEC officers. They should've easily repelled any assault force. This was highly surgical, with extreme prejudice.
"Sir, our highest priority is getting you off station…." The Spartan Commander, leader of Fireteam Majestic, Demarco, turned to Major Reynolds.. "What's the best egress route to the ports?"
"Are you sure that's the best idea?" Major Reynolds responded, "we have no idea what we're up against. Shouldn't we stay put, shore up our position and send out runners to call for reinforcements?"
"Gentlemen…" Lord Hood calmly interrupted. "Our priority is the successful application of Cole Protocol." The Fleet Admiral nodded to a nearby adjacent heavy set door, this one guarded by Marines. They opened it up and went inside. They came out with a metal data containment cylinder and… Christ, an Engineer. "We need to get this data cylinder off station. This is our first priority."
"Aye, sir!"
Major Reynolds was sure Cerberus planned for both contingencies, if Lord Hood moved or stayed. Something surgical like this, couldn't be larger than a strike team, a couple hundred all things considered. They wouldn't go loud if they had the backing.
Lord Hood was thinking exactly along these lines too, "Without comms, what would be the Spartan QRFs' orders?"
Major Reynolds thought for a moment, "contingency would be to reinforce marine positions along your evacuation route, sir."
"We'll move to the first checkpoint then," Lord Hood said. He looked to the marines continuing to set charges. Some literally dumped bags of grenades and stacked them against the terminal. "I want enough explosives here to wipe out this room. Major, see it done."
"Aye, sir."
"Captain," one of Lord Hood's Spartans said to Mark. "We'll move with all the Spartans we have currently. She then looked to Major Reynolds, "Send runners. The rest of the security force will hold their ground and reinforce possible points of ingress."
Major Reynolds and Captain Florence relayed the orders to the Marines, who readied up the last of the charges and began to seal entry points to contain the explosion.
Captain Florence looked to the Spartan Commander in charge, "I need a weapon."
The Spartan nodded and tossed him a battle rifle. The group, forming a shield around Lord Hood, headed to the elevator. From there they'll reach the lower levels of the Presidium and hopefully rendezvous with another Spartan QRF force.
Lord Hood gave the metal cylinder to the Spartan team commander. He clipped it to his belt, and held on to the tentacle of the Engineer.
Too bad they didn't have that Geth fucking Prime with them.
The rest of the staff were packing up shop. They had their own separate egress routes, and had to only rely on a Marine security team. Still, Cole Protocol was the highest priority. They knew what to do, they knew the protocol if they themselves were about to be captured by the enemy. Each one of them was a fountain of intelligence about every aspect of the UNSC.
They all knew what to do to prevent capture…
The team reached the elevator. Captain Florence heard a Marine gunny barking orders.
"We're gonna hold out and get as many HIGHCOM staff, rah?" The staff sergeant said as the marines around him pulled their bolt handles and cycled rounds to ready condition one. A corporal handed out extra ammunition. Marines checked barricades and heavy-duty shields to ensure they were secured. "Civilians are not a priority. If they get in the way, shoot 'em. Understood?"
"Rah, gunny!" The group of marines shouted back, before splitting up to prep up the last of the charges and man the defenses.
They entered the elevator and up they went. While the elevator was speedy, it seemed to take fucking forever… Calming electronic music played on the elevator speaker. Mark looked outside. They saw the river and malls of the Presidium about a couple hundred meters out. It got farther and farther away as the elevator pushed upwards.
"Fleet Admiral, sir…?" Mark asked as he cocked the battle rifle. He double-checked the chamber to make sure the round was properly loaded. "We're not heading to the rally point?"
"Not yet, Captain," Lord Hood said. "This is a coordinated assault, meaning they'll have more than one priority target…"
"Sir…?"
"The Councilors will be another target. We need to make sure they're secured, and get them off station. I'm leaving this task to you, Captain."
I'm the runner for the Council? "They can't be that incompetent, sir…?"
Lord Hood didn't say anything. He merely nodded to two of the Spartans guards, who nodded to him..
Well then… Mark looked to the Spartans, part of Fireteam Majestic he believed. Hoya and Grant looked like they were going with him.
The elevator passed the main Presidium, and stopped on the same level as the embassies. Captain Florence and his team exited. Hopefully, C-SEC already caught on that something was wrong and began defense and evacuation procedures.
He hoped.
...
The ceiling of the main lobby of the Embassies stretched on forever until it disappeared in pale white light. And if anything at all was wrong, they sure as shit didn't show it. Various diplomats, trade emissaries, business vultures, and all kinds of scummy civilian politicians milled on with the business of the day. A few turned to gawk at the UNSC team, almost insulted at their mere presence and wondered why they were here.
Captain Florence wondered how many were here to petition the Council to grovel with the UNSC to deploy forces to 'save their planet,' or whatever nonsense. Probably, some were here to begin some sort of trade with the UNSC, realizing the only thing they have were weapons and ships, yet the UNSC wasn't willing to give up those.
Florence, Thorne, and Hoya proceeded to the Council Chamber, nearly barreling their way through crowds of civilians that were beginning to form up to ask the Captain questions.
"When will they retake-"
"Why haven't they-"
So on, so forth. Mark didn't even listen.
One C-SEC officer, noticing the armed team making their way to the Chambers, stepped in front of them.
"I'm sorry, you'll have to relinquish your weapons and make an appointment. The Council is currently busy-"
"'Fuck outta my way, POG," Mark growled as he shoved him aside.
The officer radioed in the coming entourage. As they entered a blue-lit hallway, another C-SEC officer exited a door. This one Mark recognized. Commander Bailey.
"Captain, I apologize. May I help you-"
"We're under fucking assault, Commander," Mark blasted. "UNSC comms are cut. We have scores of dead Marines. Pull your head outta your fucking ass!"
Mark shoved his way past the Commander, who in response simply followed the Captain. Only now, did Mark realize he was more fueled by a sense of urgency and anxiety instead of anger as his heart pounded away under his grey uniform.
"Our comms have been working fine all day…" Commander Bailey started. He cleared his throat when he realized that wasn't the best response. "We'll begin evac and defense procedures. We've been prepping for something like this since Sovereign's assault."
"Sure fucking looks like it," Mark replied. The team reached the doors to the Chambers. Bailey waved his hand over the doors. The orange holo-circle that sat in front of it turned red.
"Must be in a meeting,"
Jesus Fuck. "Open…."
The Captain heard something…. Behind metal doors. It sounded like muffled bangs, like someone slamming a door, repeatedly.
He recognized that sound.
Suppressors.
He looked to the Spartans, "rip it open. NOW!"
Both grabbed the lip of the metal door and dug in their fingers. The groan of the locks gave way and soon the Spartans pulled to a large enough opening. . Mark peered in and...
What the absolute fuck?
...
Spartans…
Fucking Spartans.
Metal grey colored Spartans. Spartan-IIs to be more specific. The dark orange visor of standard MJOLNIR II armor looked at Captain Florence. At first, he thought it was a nearby Spartan QRF force responding to the situation… Until they turned their rifles on him.
The Captain ducked into defilade right as a burst of plasma and lead rounds went right through the opening and hit the wall behind. Throne and Hoya's shields turned a bright, visible yellow as plasma residue splashed onto them. One droplet hit Mark's battle rifle. It melted right through the stock.
"Hostile contact! Hostile contact!" Captain Florence screamed.
The Spartans went loud. Thorne threw in a grenade and Hoya tossed in a flashbang. They shoved the doors shut.
"Friends of yours!?" Mark yelled.
"Never seen these fuckers before in my life!" Hoya screamed back.
Holy shit. Is this a fucking ONI assault? He thought the Navy retained majority control over the Spartan Branch.
At least he thought.
"I need backup. Assault Response Team at the Chambers, now!" Bailey yelled as he pulled out a sidearm.
"Sir?" Thorne said, looking at the Captain. "You may want to step the fuck back."
Mark understood. He grabbed Bailey and pushed back to the hall.
Something pounded against the door, leaving a massive dent. The two UNSC Spartans stepped back and readied up. One of them brought out a grenade launcher.
The door was ripped open and a plasma grenade was thrown out. Both Spartan-IVs jumped out of the way right as the explosive turned a sun-blue and exploded. Thorne fired a grenade, held onto the trigger to allow it to bounce right next to the door. It burst, knocking out the shield of the first enemy Spartan through the door. He was armed with an M7 SMG and a pure metal riot shield.
Thorne immediately loaded another grenade while Hoya laid down fire, creating a micro kill zone. Another enemy Spartan with a riot shield entered. Each one faced down a Spartan-IV.
It's only now Mark noticed these enemy Spartans were bulkier than any ones he had seen before. There was a mechanical lining built into their armor, each joint holding a dim blue signal light. The armor itself looked thicker than any average Spartan's. Metal upon metal, it made them look uncoordinated and nearly immobile as they stayed stationary, establishing a baseline of fire while another enemy Spartan moved in from the door.
Hoya fell back to Mark and Bailey's position. The two fired their weapons. The heavy rounds from the Battle Rifle recoiled, smashing the stock right into the Captain's shoulder. All the bullets hit the heavy-duty riot shield. Hoya, armed with a DMR, shot past the opening in the enemy's riot shield and hit the one facing Thorne. He repeated fire until he completely pierced his energy shield and slammed a shot between armor plates, the round boring deep into the underlay suit.
More enemy Spartans poured, in a fucking squads worth. All fell back while providing cover fire. Thorne fell back and jumped off the balcony, landing a story below.
More C-SEC officers backed them up, providing sporadic unsuccessful suppressive fire. The enemy Spartans returned hyper-accurate fire, hitting multiple officers in vital organs.
"Is the Council dead!?" Mark screamed
"There's a panic chamber!" Bailey said, "unless these assholes are packing starship weaponry, they should be safe!"
"You'd be surprised."
A dozen officers now provided cover fire as they retreated to the lobby. Civilians screamed and panicked as they ran to cover, nearly drowning out the small arms reports. At least for a brief moment. The roaring echoes of an intense firefight began to drown out the room. Debris shot through everyone's vision. Acrid gun-smoke filled the unmasked senses. All the while, brave C-Sec officers feebly attempted to corral and guide groups of civilians to safety.
At the edge of the lobby, nearest to the hallway, C-SEC officers were quickly setting up makeshift defensive positions. Uniformed officers versus Spartans. Mark noticed, but he didn't have his hopes up.
Commander Bailey tried to get on comms, only to find a static. An empty response - just like the UNSC.
Now the assault was in full swing. Captain Florence quickly debated what to do. Enforcement of Cole Protocol was the top priority. Lord Hood followed, then UNSC and Citadel military staff.
It made Mark wonder how much info these fucking idiot civilian politicians knew. Enough to ensure absolute enforcement of Cole Protocol? If it were, he figured Lord Hood would have sent more than a fucking POG navy captain and two Spartans.
Hoya dodged and scrambled, sticking to the front, trying to hold back the pouring Spartan team.
"Is there another route to the panic room?!" Mark had to grab Bailey by the collar and scream directly in his ear to overcome the gun fire.
"On the other side!"
Why the fuck wouldn't it be?
More C-SEC officers poured in from the elevators, more heavily armed than their counterparts. Avenger rifles and reinforced body armor protected their bodies from nearby shrapnel as Cerberus Spartans started to lob grenades to dislocate officers out of cover.
The C-SEC SWAT teams focused more so on getting civilians out of the way. Another element of the team took up position on the far side of the lobby, across the large decorative gap filled with trees and other plant life. Firing in extremely sparse and controlled bursts, Mark immediately knew their training was more designed to handle armed crazies and terrorists. Not designed for warfare.
Most of the officers at the end of the hallway were now dead. Hoya was forced to fall back, dislocating to the edge of the lobby and taking a corner. The first enemy Spartan was through, sprinting into the lobby and hyper targeting C-SEC SWAT officers.
They had to find another way to that fucking panic room. At the very least to confirm KIAs.
Most of the dead officers were aliens. Salarians, Turians, and a handful of Asari. Multi-colored blood began to pool in the lobby. The remaining civilians, trampling over each other, were intentionally gunned down in the dozens.
"FALLBACK! FALLBACK!" A SWAT officer screamed. Still, they held the line long enough to get as many civilians out of there.
The enemy Spartans pushed in, cutting off Captain Florence and Bailey from any point of egress. Florence desperately took cover behind a flower bed, sporadically firing his battle rifle.
This was turning into a massacre.