Chapter 4 – Consummavi
December 10th, 2543 (15:30 Hours – Military Calendar)
Sol System, Earth
ODST Training Base "Camp Ravenport", Scaffel Pike Mountain, United Kingdom
:********:
Head Instructor Dalton watched more than two dozen camera feeds around him with rapt attention. Each screen showed the men and women of 2nd platoon seated inside their Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicles. This was the fourth operational run for the day for this platoon, and he would make sure they did it right this time. This was, after all, the most critical exercise in Final Selection, if not in the entire program. It brought everything the recruits had learned into a final culmination of what was essentially an Orbital Drop Shock Troopers' bread and butter.
"Give me an update on their pods' internal temperatures."
Three assistant personnel manned several console stations around the room, each with their own screens and functionalities. "They've averaging at 38 degrees Celsius sir." One said.
Not bad. Better than last time.
"Bio signs?"
"Predominantly in the green, sir." Another answered. "No one's experiencing any hyperpyrexia symptoms either."
That was a good sign too.
"Trajectory? What are their velocities?"
The last of the three assistant personnel answered. "So far, 18 out of the 24 are still on target." He squinted at his display screen. "Looks like 4 are going to miss the drop zone entirely. The platoon's averaging out at around 120 miles per hour and 12.1psi on the pods' external sensors."
Dalton nodded. Mahoney wasn't likely to give them an easier reception than he had earlier. The three failed attempts prior had proved as much. That meant that 2nd Platoon had to get it together and fast. The consequences otherwise were severe enough to make them regret messing up their last chance for the day, and the four stragglers drifting out of the drop zone were bound to be a cause for concern.
"Raise 2nd platoon's leader on the horn for me." Dalton said.
A few moments later 2nd Platoon's leader, November 1, came in over the comms.
"November 1, care to explain why four of your men are so far out of formation?"
"Sir, Charlie 1 suggested a change in tactics after our third try went south. I'm sending him and his fireteam on a flanking maneuver."
Dalton considered it for a moment. At least that meant that they were adapting to the situation, even if the case was such that it took them getting bludgeoned a few times to figure it out. "Alright, keep the rest of your platoon together. Remember, this is your last run for the day. These results 'will' be going on the record."
"Understood sir." November 1 said. "We'll get the job done."
:********:
Noah.
Duncan's attention was directed almost entirely to that one thought. They had settled on the name two weeks ago when Erica found out for sure they were going to have a boy. Since then life for Duncan had been a series of advanced training sessions, live fire combat drills and short sleep hours. It required combining physical exhaustion of 1st Selection with the mental corkscrewing of the 2nd, and finally multiplying the performance anxiety from those two together to experience the sheer pressure cooker that was Final Selection.
Here, the goal wasn't survival. Graduation was. The 162 remaining recruits of Class 207 understood that if you had to crawl out of your grave after the last test to graduate, then so be it. They had made it too far not to become Helljumpers. That meant days spent in classrooms studying the tactics of both Insurrectionists and Covenant alongside studies of counter-tactics centering around conducting shock operations behind enemy lines. Exoatmospheric insertion training became as common as waking up in the morning and firing through cut-outs of various Covenant species were as normal as eating breakfast.
Most of the focus was on the heart of ODST life: The Human Entry Vehicles or HEVs. Maintenance, piloting, the risks involved and responses to hazardous situations within the pod were all drilled into them day and night. Duncan had committed himself to study its components and functionalities until he became just as familiar with the HEV's frame as his own body.
To add to that, he had entered one of the role specializations, having undergone the side-training with a dozen others necessary to be qualified as cryptanalysts once they graduated. Thanks to years of working with computers and military hardware beforehand, he had an easier time of it than others with less experience.
Today, months of training were about to come in handy.
"Landing in 1 minute." Cosmo said over the comms, the worry in his voice gaining Duncan's attention. He quickly realized that he had been piloting his HEV unconsciously for the better half of the entire drop. The fact he hadn't 'crashed' into anyone at least meant he was getting better with the controls.
The flames of reentry were still engulfing the pod's viewing windows and the internal temperature roasted him inside his own armor. That meant they had another twenty seconds before they deployed their drag chutes. Duncan was able to use one of the handful of monitors to look at the quickly approaching valley floor between Scafell Pike Mountain and Kirk Fell Mountain just to the North.
O'Reilly and Stanton, dressed in their BDUs, were displayed on two main monitors to his left and right.
"Sounds like you're ready to drop out Cosmo." O'Reilly said, his voice dripping with condescension.
"Not a chance Leprechaun. I'm just not about to get nailed by that sniper again, my shoulder's still sore." Cosmo admitted.
"You think he'll be on the right or the left this time?" Stanton asked.
Duncan chimed in. "I'm thinking right. I was tracking his movement patterns. He always repositions to the opposite side when they rotate."
"I'll keep that in mind. Let's hope the 340th start getting sloppy." Cosmo said. There was a smaller amount of worry in his voice that time. Duncan took it as a good sign.
"Forty seconds!" Cosmo said. "Deploy chutes!"
Duncan grabbed the release lever above his shoulder and pulled it down. Immediately his pod trembled as the chute released. His descent slowed and the reentry flames dissipated. The rest of Charlie's pods had their chutes out and were barreling down towards the surface.
"Get ready!"
Duncan closed his eyes and counted. Thirty seconds…twenty…ten. In the last several seconds the pod's automatic braking rockets activated, slowing the fall. His teeth rattled as the HEV slammed into the ground. Duncan grabbed his suppressed M7 SMG and triggered the hatch's explosive gas-bolts. The hatch blew clear off the pod and skidded away, allowing him to leap out with weapon raised.
The lush greenery of the valley floor stretched out all around him. English Oaks dominated most of the space save for an old, dry riverbed passing from east to west along the valley floor.
Duncan spotted the rest of fireteam Charlie leaping out of their pods which, like his own, were mounted on a latticework of rails spanning the outer valley. Their monitors displayed a virtual recreation of the drop zone while the pods moved along the rails to compensate for the movement. The simulation was safer than an actual Exoatmospheric insertion after all.
Duncan spotted the wide forest to the west and three buildings poking through the canopy. Cosmo placed a NAV marker on the closest. "That's our target building. We'll link up with Fireteam Lima. But keep your eyes peeled, that sniper knows we're coming."
"Yeah, I'd figure that trying to catch him twice already might make him sleep with one eye open." O'Reilly commented.
"He doesn't know we're coming from the east this time though, Rile'." Stanton pointed out. "That's gotta count for something."
"Let's find out." Cosmo said. "Charlie team, on me."
Duncan, O'Reilly and Stanton followed him in jogging along the dry riverbed. However, they stayed spread apart out of wariness for the sniper.
The comm channels were alive with chatter from the other fireteams encountering resistance. The enemy for this exercise was an unholy amalgamation of Drill Instructors and elements from the 340th ODST Combat Training Unit. Nicknamed the "Adversaries", the 340th were a UNSC Shock Trooper unit that trained other UNSC Special Forces. The Head Instructor had transferred them over from the Special Warfare Center in Seongnam, United Korea. Throughout Final Selection, they had raised hell for Class 207. They were the primary cause for why other platoons were hard-pressed to pass this exercise, and why 2nd platoon had already failed three times.
Duncan winced as the first sniper round cracked over his head and splattered TTR onto the tree behind him. He threw himself onto his stomach and peered through the leaves of the shrub serving as cover. "Sharpshooter just engaged me."
Charlie Team had entered the forest and were moving up the wash when the familiar report of an SRS-99 Anti-Matériel rifle barked in the distance. They were all on their stomachs now and scanning the way ahead.
"Iris, you hit?" Cosmo asked.
Duncan's ears still rang from the closeness of the shot and his head felt lighter than usual. He checked his armor. "No red on me, just green baby."
"Are you high right now Master Iris?" O'Reilly quipped.
"In the clouds, Riley." Duncan assured. "Been shot too many times today, the polymer's getting to me."
"Keep it sober Iris." Cosmo said. "Try to figure out where the shot came from. We've only got another five minutes to link up with Lima."
Stanton comm'd in. "I saw a Lens flare about 20 meters up on the left side of the wash when I heard the shot."
Duncan peered over his shoulder at where the round had struck the tree. "Bullet trajectory's about right. But that means he's breaking his pattern. Looks like he's mixing it up so we don't figure him out."
"Alright." Cosmo said. "Stanton, you and I will take left. Riley, Iris, flank right."
The team's acknowledgement lights winked green on their HUDs. They split up into their binaries and crawled along the labyrinths of shrubs and sparse hedgerows on either side of the dry riverbed.
Duncan and O'Reilly were less than ten meters away from their flanking position when they spotted another lens flare to their immediate front. Both threw themselves to the ground again just before a high caliber round flashed overhead.
"Team 2?" Cosmo comm'd.
Duncan brought up his SMG and aimed forward. "Looks like a second sniper."
"We'll handle this one." O'Reilly assured. You and Stanton worry about the other guy."
Cosmo growled in irritation at the situation. "Get it done."
O'Reilly bumped his friend in the shoulder. "Can you run duck duck goose with the fella for me so I can get a bead on him?"
Duncan returned the gesture and got to his feet. "Just catch him before he ducks my own goose, would you?" He got up and ran for some tree-cover farther right while O'Reilly braced himself with his DMR. Earlier in Final Selection, the Irishman had specialized for the Designated Marksmen role in the fireteam. Duncan hoped he had a good line of sight as he raced across open ground.
Halfway to the tree he stopped and swiveled around. As expected, a round whizzed a few centimeters past his back. He kept running for the trees. He slid behind the closest tree. He heard a duo of DMR shots one second then a brief pause followed by two more shots.
Duncan spotted O'Reilly emerging from cover, aiming at a shrub ten meters up. "I think he's down." To check, he put another quartet of DMR bursts into the vegetation. Seeing no movement, Duncan jogged over to join him. They walked up towards the shrub together then simultaneously sidestepped around it and aimed at the body behind.
The man dressed in camouflage ODST BDU was sprawled across the ground with several TTRs to the head and torso.
"Think he's faking it?" O'Reilly asked, kicking away the SR-96 lying beside him.
Duncan spotted the insignia patch of the 340th on the guy's shoulder and fired a three-round burst into it. "Nah."
Two successive grenade explosions made them snap their weapons back up. The detonations came from the left side of the wash. A few seconds later Cosmo comm'd in. "First sniper down. How 'bout on your end, team 2?"
"Bagged him already." Duncan said."
"Copy. Everyone on me. The target building's less than a quarter 'klick up the riverbed. Let's move."
Fireteam Charlie gathered on the opposite banks of the old wash and jogged another 100 meters up the riverbed. The target building grew closer until the high perimeter gates came into view just beneath the forest canopy.
The target building itself was a three-story concrete warehouse containing the 'Weapon of Mass Destruction' serving as the objective for this mission. The goal was to secure the WMDs stored inside each of the three warehouses on the valley floor and by extension, pass the test.
The only problem was the twelve ODST Trainers from the 340th patrolling the perimeter. They moved in fireteams of four, securing the north, south and eastern approaches to the warehouse where the rest of 2nd platoon were expected to come from.
Two more sharpshooters were stationed on the building's rooftop. They probably hadn't expected the tactical flank that was fireteam Charlie's presence in the western approach. But being cautious, they had likely maneuvered those two snipers into position to cover for the blind spot. All the same, Charlie had already been wiped out by the trainers' sharpshooters twice before so they knew to anticipate them.
"Charlie 1 to Lima 1, we are in position. Do you copy?" Cosmo called.
Lima 1 answered a heartbeat later. "I read you Charlie. Fireteam Lima is in position on the eastern approach. Once things kick off, we'll get the brunt of the attention."
"Understood. We'll take some of the heat off you and infiltrate from the west."
"Alright, you've got forty seconds Charlie. Then we move in."
"Copy, Charlie 1 out."
From what they had overheard on their comms earlier, Foxtrot and X-Ray were about to assault the codenamed Warehouse Alpha. Teams November and Delta had already secured Warehouse Gamma. That only left Warehouse Bravo. If they secured it, the entire platoon would pass. If not, the penalty for defeat would be shared with everyone else.
Cosmo pointed to O'Reilly and then to the sniper on the rooftop. He pointed Stanton towards the fence. Lastly was Duncan. He motioned to the fence and clenched his fist twice. Three acknowledgement lights winked on.
Stanton moved up with Duncan close behind while Cosmo and O'Reilly took aim on the two snipers manning the rooftop. Stanton pulled out the arm sized wire clippers from his back harness and cut a hole through the fence large enough for them to crouch through.
Duncan slipped into the perimeter first. He cleared the stretch of tarmac to either side as the others came in behind him. They quietly took cover behind several crates.
A sudden burst of gunfire to the east followed by a sporadic increase told them that the forty seconds were up. The two closest Trainer fireteams ran towards the eastern gates in response to the commotion. Once they were out of sight, O'Reilly pulled the trigger on the two snipers on the roof that had mistakenly focused on the east. Two rounds each and they both quickly collapsed.
With overwatch taken out, Fireteam Charlie dashed towards the building. They split into their binaries and rushed to the corners of the warehouse.
Duncan peeked around one and spotted the trainers taking up positions behind a shed. Further down, he saw the four members of fireteam Lima making their way under fire towards a trailer.
Duncan crouched so O'Reilly could aim over him. Their trigger fingers went to work simultaneously, unleashing a coordinated barrage of TTR fire. Two of the trainers quickly slumped to the ground, their backs plastered with crimson paint. A third got hit in the leg but turned with the fourth to face the new threat. Duncan and O'Reilly fell back behind the building at return fire. They waited until one of the trainers rounded the corner in search of them and turned his armor into a walking canvas before he could even respond. After he fell, Duncan went back to the corner, spotted the last trainer struggling to stay on his feet and finished him off with two to the head.
"Southern approach clear." Duncan said.
"Northern approach is also clear." Stanton added over comms.
"Lima just broke through on the east." Cosmo said. "Everyone, man your doors. Lima's taking the east side. Duncan, O'Reilly, you're on the south. Me and Stanton will handle the north side."
They winked their acknowledgement lights and took positions on either side of their respective doors. Duncan tied a breaching charge around the door handle, pulled the pin and braced against the wall. The charge blew a second later, sending out a small shockwave of wooden shards that showered over his armor. The door flew open from the sheer force and the two stormed inside with gun's raised.
The interior was pitch black, prompting them to turn on their helmet's VISR mode, painting every shape around them in a ghoulish green tint. The hallway ahead stretched on further into the compound. O'Reilly took point while Duncan covered the rear. They stopped at doors and carefully opened them, sweeping them clear first before stepping inside to investigate. Room after room yielded the same result: nothing.
"Weren't they all over the place last time?" Duncan asked.
"Wouldn't surprise me if Mahoney's planned something."
"Sure, could use some of that good luck of yours."
"Leprechaun's aren't real D, told you that before. Wish I was one right about now though."
While the 340th secured the perimeter, the Drill Instructors were responsible for the warehouse' interior. In each of their earlier attempts the instructors had dished out hell on them. So, where were they?
On their way towards the main storage room at the building's center, Duncan had comm'd everyone else, asking Cosmo and even Lima 1 if they found anything. So far no one had.
At the final set of doors, Duncan felt his heart beating furiously as he grabbed the nob.
"On my mark." Cosmo said. "…Mark!"
Duncan turned the nob and threw the door open. O'Reilly stepped inside with DMR raised. He expected to get wasted immediately, but nothing happened. Duncan stepped inside and walked with him along one of the catwalks spanning the length of the third level.
The room sat in abject darkness. Dozens of crates and cargo containers occupied the main floor. There was still no sign of the instructors. Even so, Duncan felt he had a decent idea where they could be hiding.
He spotted Cosmo and Stanton moving along the catwalk on the adjacent side. Three levels below, team Lima entered onto the main floor. They moved in binaries and fanned out around the containers. One by one they checked the insides and Duncan felt relief every time they cleared one. Then the fact they hadn't run into a single instructor made him more and more worried.
Fireteam Charlie headed down the stairs. While Cosmo and Stanton reached the main floor first, O'Reilly stopped without warning on the final staircase and looked up at the ceiling.
"What is it?" Duncan asked from behind.
O'Reilly didn't answer. Instead he sighted through his rifle scope at the ceiling. He pulled the rifle down to look with his visor, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing, then brought the scope back up again. He stared hard for several long seconds. His voice came as a horrified whisper.
"…No way."
"See something?" Cosmo asked over comms.
O'Reilly didn't get the chance to answer as one of the guys from Lima opened a container and received a hailstorm of TTR to the stomach for his trouble.
"CONTA-" Lima 1 was cut off by the deafening roar of several explosions high above that bathed the entire room in light. The recruits looked up and were greeted with the sight of a downpour of liquid polymer headed straight for them.
:********:
Duncan grabbed O'Reilly and pulled him back into the overhanging stairs. They toppled back as the incoming deluge rained down.
The bulk of the TTR splashed onto the main floor as well as the catwalks, coating almost everything in a thin layer of paint.
Being beneath the catwalk, Duncan and O'Reilly emerged untouched.
Duncan couldn't spot anyone from Lima. He checked the adjacent staircase and saw Cosmo and Stanton coming out from where they had taken cover.
"What was that!?" Cosmo asked.
O'Reilly answered "They lined the ceiling crossbeams with explosives! Did Lima make it!?"
A gunfight abruptly broke out on the main floor. The doors on polymer-covered containers opened, riffle muzzles peeked out and opened up on any targets they could find.
"Don't worry about us." Lima 1 replied. "I'm down a guy but the rest of my team got to cover. We've got at least four instructors down here, over."
"Head's up!" O'Reilly pointed back to the ceiling.
Above them, three silhouettes lunged from the overhead crossbeams. Ropes from their utility belts tethered them to the ceiling as they swung onto and ran along the walls. It was undoubtedly more instructors.
Duncan saw the closest instructor right above him. He ran headlong down the wall, looking the recruit visor to visor and fired his assault rifle. Duncan threw himself off the stairs, catching himself at the bottom. O'Reilly shot back but the instructor leaped to the side in anticipation, dodging the return fire. He swung away to safety while forcing the marksmen to duck under a storm of TTRs. Duncan tracked his trajectory and fired half a magazine at the pendulum-like figure. Two rounds caught the instructor in the hand and he dropped his rifle. O'Reilly seized the opportunity to rise up from cover and put two well-placed shots into the man's stomach. He visibly recoiled then quickly went limp.
"One down." Duncan said. On the other side, Cosmo and Stanton gunned down another instructor that had swung toward them. The woman in the armor seized up and stayed still.
"One down here too." Stanton sighed, taking in a breath. "That was too-"
Duncan saw the shadow before he heard the shots. It arced behind Cosmo and Stanton's position before firing down at them. Stanton cried out over comms as several Tactical Training Rounds punched him in the back. He collapsed into a heap while Cosmo returned fire at the retreating figure.
Duncan made out the red accented armor of Drill Instructor Mahoney and knew they were in trouble. Mahoney reeled himself away while pulling the triggers on the two M7s he hefted in either hand. Cosmo vaulted off the stairs to escape. He landed on his back and rolled to the side as Mahoney fired down on him.
O'Reilly fired three shots at the man that did little more than get his attention. He jumped from the adjacent side of the warehouse and swung towards them. He tossed two frag grenades down to their level. The closest bounced against a nearby crate, forcing Duncan to throw himself behind a container door. The door thankfully took the bulk of the polymer blast. He got out to look for O'Reilly, calling out to him, but could neither see nor hear from the man.
He could however see Mahoney soaring above everything.
Then he had a stroke of mad genius. Getting shot by Mahoney was almost an absolute. But the chance was there.
Duncan ran towards a particularly large container in the center of the main floor and hoisted himself on top. He spotted Mahoney as he landed against the far wall and clung to it. The Drill Instructor spotted him as well. The two stared the other down, sensing their intent to take each other out.
Mahoney made the first move by leaping away from the wall, arcing down to Duncan's position. The latter stayed low as he tracked Mahoney's flying form across the warehouse. When he got within range Duncan pulled out a frag grenade, pulled the pin and lobbed it.
As it got close to Mahoney, he took aim and fired. The burst missed. The grenade flew past and detonated harmlessly on the other side of the room, leaving Mahoney to sail onward. The instructor bathed his position with TTRs. One struck him in the leg. He grunted from the pain which quickly numbed. That part of his armor locked down and the mixture of the anesthetic affect caused him to fall on his rear.
Mahoney swung around; this time headed for the kill shot. Duncan pulled out his last grenade and pulled the pin, giving it a final, desperate throw. The frag flew through the air. Duncan took aim and fired one last burst.
It missed.
Just as the grenade was about to sail past, a precise DMR round caught it from the side. The resulting blast of red polymer enveloped Mahoney.
Duncan watched as his crimson-colored form flew overhead. His SMGs fell out of his hands. After a few seconds, his momentum ended, leaving the Drill Instructor's flaccid form to hang like a corpse on a noose in the center of the room.
Duncan stared at the belligerent human being that had tormented his life and that of many other recruits now swaying helplessly in his locked down armor. There was something cathartic about it that went beyond words.
Eventually O'Reilly appeared as he got onto the container. "Nice work, Sunny Jim." He patted Duncan on the back and worked with Cosmo to get his 'wounded' friend back on the ground. They rested him beside Stanton and another who had been utterly covered in TTR from the explosion. Both men lay limp in their armor.
The rest of fireteam Charlie and Lima had also gathered around the container.
"That's all the instructors down." Lima 1 exhaled.
Cosmo glanced back at Duncan and the others, then up at Mahoney and shook his head. He breathed a heavy sigh. "Crazy…."
That one-word summed up everyone's collective feelings about the fight. Without further procedure, O'Reilly opened the door on the container to reveal the dark, missile-sized box inside labeled 'WMD #3'.
"Want to do the honors?" O'Reilly said, nodding to Cosmo. He looked to Lima 1 and the others who all nodded to him in turn.
"…Alright."
He comm'd Headquarters. "Charlie 1 to HQ. The package in Warehouse 3 is secured."
Dalton's voice came in over the team frequency. "Well done Fireteams Charlie and Lima. You'll also be happy to know that WMDs 1 and 2 have also been secured."
A sense of elation overtook the room as Dalton paused then added: "The WMD Acquisition Exercise is completed. You've passed, 2nd platoon. Good work. Now come on home. You've got a steaming bath, gourmet chow and a one-way ticket to Nassau Station waiting for you."
Consummavi - Finished