Chapter 6 - Occultatum
September 16th, 2544 (06:20 Hours – Military Calendar)
Ulterin System, Miridem
Matin Province, Continent of Vitre
Provincial Capital of New Memphis, near De Gaulle Starport
:********:
1st Platoon sprinted under the shadows of buildings along Dreyfus Boulevard just a kilometer North of the De Gaulle. They moved in pairs. One hefted a SPANKR while another carried a case of extra rocket ammo. Like the rest of Bravo and Alpha Company, their boots made little sound as they moved under the pink skies.
The sun was slowly beginning to peek over the western horizon at their backs, glittering off the windows of New Memphis' buildings, reminding them that their time was running low. With only five minutes left until the 53rd Armored rolled in, the Staff Sergeant ordered everyone to double-time it.
"How much farther, Ep-1?" Nova asked, fighting to balance the weight of the ammo crate on her shoulders.
"One hundred meters."
A far-off rurring sound caught everyone's attention. Squad Echo was moving a few meters ahead of Epsilon with Sergeant Joels leading, carrying two SPANKRs across his shoulders with ease. The Sergeant perked his head up and spotted the noise's source.
"Banshees. Type-26Bs."
The platoon tensed.
"Numbers?" The Staff asked.
"Three, 100 meters south and closing fast."
"Ditch the road 1st platoon."
The platoon flashed their acknowledgement lights and silently rushed off the sidewalks. The Staff kicked in the door to a Havadi Goodwan restaurant and Epsilon followed him inside. Next door, Joels barreled through the gate of a law firm's front plaza and Echo disappeared within.
Duncan crouched down in one of the dinner-table alcoves lining the restaurant's walls. He heard someone slink down next to him and glanced over. It was Yuri. The trooper was leaning up against the ammo casing he was carrying. He nodded at Duncan, peeked out the window and sighed explosively over team comms. "Razve my ne mozhem ikh prosto sbit'?"
"No, we're not in position yet." Nova replied.
Yuri grumbled to himself in dissatisfaction.
Duncan could tell he was ready for action. The ODST had spent the last two weeks either recovering or with a different squad. Earlier in the first week he'd received a successful transplant of a section of flash-cloned lung to replace the damage done to his right one. He'd managed to survive the rejection period using daily therapy sessions of the muscular reconstructive drug Nandrolone II and watered-down Waverly-class augmentors known as Rumbledrugs, both of which he told them made him feel like a 'tank'. Within a few days and perhaps one too many corticosteroid-enthused pick-me-ups later, he was up and operational. He'd spent the last week and a half with Alpha Company's 2nd platoon filling in a vacancy on Squad Razor. While the doctors told him that they weren't able to remove a few spike fragments buried in his diaphragm and that he would have to live with them for the rest of his life, Yuri didn't seem phased in the least. He didn't mind coming within a hair's breadth of death, and after reuniting with 1st platoon earlier this morning, the Russian was itching to make the Covenant come within a hair's breadth of himself.
"Sit tight people." The Staff said. "Here they come."
The low rurring noise came closer.
Outside, a purple aircraft appeared. Its bulbous front vaguely reminded Duncan of a beluga whale. It had a curved reflective cowling and two wing canards with gravity propulsion drives. It glided less than twenty meters above the street, leaving blue trails of vaporous exhaust in its wake. It zoomed back North. Two more appeared following it down the street. They flew another hundred meters down Dreyfus Boulevard then turned a corner, disappearing from sight.
"Let's move."
Epsilon rushed back out onto the sidewalk and joined Echo further up. The platoon slipped from shadow to shadow until they covered the last 100 meters.
Up ahead was a large intersection between Dreyfus Boulevard and an adjoined Parisii Boulevard: their killzone.
The troopers looked across the intersection and spotted their counterparts of Alpha Company's 2nd Platoon moving up on the opposite side to their target building. The Staff gave them a thumbs up.
2nd Platoon's Captain Ortega returned the gesture. He spoke over comms. "Let's get it done, Ep-1."
"Likewise, 2-Actual."
The Staff dropped a Nav-Marker on the top floor of 1st platoon's target building off to their left. While everyone else stacked up on either side, Joels got a running start and rammed his full weight through the front door, knocking it clear off its hinges. They piled inside behind him.
They entered the ground level lounge and split up into their squads to ascend two off-branching staircases. After passing ten stories Epsilon reached the service door leading onto the rooftop. The palisading wall surrounding the square rim would be the perfect cover. Beyond it they could see the cityscape and the central dome of the Starport in the distance.
The squad split up to occupy the two sides that would give them the best vantage point over the intersection. All the while Echo setup shop on the top floor beneath them. Though Epsilon would have the best overall command position, they would also be the most vulnerable. Echo would act as their insurance policy of carrying on the mission from the top floor in the scenario that Epsilon was wiped out.
Duncan didn't like to think about that fact for obvious reasons. Banshees were known to be highly maneuverable and thrived in close combat conditions. This was going to be his first time taking one down. He checked his HUD and kept an eye on the number '2' above the light-blue launcher symbol in the upper-right corner. He'd have to make each one count.
The Russian sitting next to him popped open his ammo case, revealing the ten other rockets nestled inside.
"Don't worry rookie." Yuri said, cracking his neck. "Just don't miss." He held up his hands. "You take SPANKR and you spank Banshee with it, like this." He slapped his hands together "See? No sweats."
"No sweat." Duncan corrected. "It's no sweat."
"See, that's the spirit."
Duncan couldn't help laughing a little. He had to admit Yuri was a lot more perceptive than he gave him credit for. He'd figured out what he was worried about without even seeing his face.
"Oh." Yuri set a hand on his shoulder. "If you die, don't worry. I take tags and SPNAKR so I don't die."
Duncan's smile fell.
"Time's up." The Staff said. "The 53rd's moving in right about now. They'll be here in about five minutes so hold tight."
"It's about to get a little less quiet around here." Hector exhaled, shifting his launcher onto the lip of the wall.
"Oh really?" Yuri's voice oozed sarcasm. "Why you think that, big guy?"
"'Cause you're here. I doubt you're gonna shut up if you can help it."
"Why don't we let rockets do all talking, huh? Unless you think you no good."
Hector spared him a sidelong glance. "Sure pal."
"It's good to have you back, Match." Rico said, popping his Grenade Launcher open and slipping a 40-millimeter grenade into the chamber. "It was getting too quiet around here anyway." He snapped the weapon closed.
Yuri didn't answer right away, not like he usually did. There was a palpable hesitation in his voice. "It's...good to have you guys back, really."
Everyone could feel what he was thinking. They had had to tell him what happened at the station after they linked up with him at the Marines' FOB. There was no reaction from him save for a small loosening in his furrowed brow and clenching of his teeth. He didn't show any other reaction, not visibly, but the fact he was still his fiery self did much to raise everyone else' spirits. While they had lost the Captain, they had at least gotten Yuri back. They weren't a full platoon but they were at least a full squad now. That had to count for something.
Soon they heard the roar of multiple vehicle engines.
The first part of the column to appear were the Warthogs, six of them. Two were Troop Carriers ferrying a squad of Marines. The other four bore manned LAAG's whose gunners kept an eye on the skies as they drove down Parisii Boulevard from the west. Four Scorpion Tanks rolled in behind them, each baring the 53rd's insignia of a flaming scorpion just below their cannons which swiveled from one point in the sky to another.
The convoy drove in single file and occupied the intersection. The tanks maneuvered back-to-back at the center, each of the four sitting with their cannons focused down one end of a boulevard. The Marines, armed with SPANKRs, dismounted from their troop carriers and took up positions behind their Hogs. The four Turret Hogs setup shop on the four roadways, forming a vehicle blockade around the intersection. With their LAAGs aimed up at the airways and the ODSTs providing overwatch, they were effectively ready for anything.
One of the Scorpions aimed into the air and fired a smoke signal. The signal shot up 200 meters before exploding in a puff of green smoke that would be visible from kilometers away.
Across the block, other smoke signals shot into the sky. Duncan counted 15 in total including theirs, all of which surrounded the De Gaulle. While 12 were green, 3 were red meaning they were already engaging the enemy. Though their primary purpose was to inform their unit commander that they were in place, they served the dual purpose of getting the attention of local hostile forces.
"Banshees inbound, 50 meters out." Deaks said, spotting them first. The squad turned their attention down Parisii Boulevard East and saw the four banshees. Two were approaching above the street while two more flew over the surrounding buildings.
The Warthog gunner stationed there started up a steady stream of heavy caliber fire on the lower two while one of the Scorpions tracked the higher duo.
"Leave it to Razor." The Staff said. "We're managing our own corners." The squad stood down, watching as concentrated LAAG fire tore into one Banshee and birthed purple-white flames along its canopy. The craft responded with bursts from its duel plasma turrets as it boosted along with an audible HEP. The Scorpion's cannon thundered in reply. The targeted banshee blew into a ball of burning debris and azure flames. Its brother craft accelerated up to join the other two.
From the top of an adjacent building, Squad Razor fired a combined barrage of ten SPANKR rockets that angled upwards to meet the incoming trio. Two of them flew apart in fiery detonations as the rockets slammed into them. The third managed to aileron roll to the side to avoid a deadly quartet that zipped past.
"Three more coming down Dreyfus North, 65 meters out." Rico called. Epsilon's rocketeers shifted over to that side of the building and saw the Banshees boosting down the boulevard towards the intersection.
Before the Staff could give an order, Echo-3 chimed in. "Four more coming down on Dreyfus South, 70 meters out."
"Got seven pushing up over Parisii West, over." Echo-5 reported.
"Three more on Parisii East." Deaks added. "It's getting hot out here."
Duncan peeked over his shoulder and spotted Banshees flying in from every direction.
The Staff Sergeant and Sergeant Joels dished out orders quickly. Duncan focused on the former.
"Ep-4 and 6, take care of Parisii East. Ep-8, you're with me."
Hector and Rico ran to the other side to face the threat at Parisii East while Duncan came up next to the Staff and focused on the three Banshees zooming towards them from Dreyfus North. The warbling screech of their engines sent a shiver down his spine. He forced himself to ignore it.
Then as if fate sought to spite him, two more Banshees rolled onto the boulevard from two adjoining streets to join the other three. Duncan felt a lump swell in his throat. He grasped the bracing handle with his left hand and flexed the index of his right over the trigger.
"Ep-8 take the upper-left one. I'll take the upper-right. On my mark."
Two seconds passed, enough time for their SPANKRs to give a corresponding beep, confirming a lock-on.
"Mark!"
They fired synchronously, pulling their triggers twice to send out four rockets that hissed through the air towards the encroaching squadron. The five Banshees began to split up. There was the thunder of cannon fire and one of the craft exploded as a 105-millimeter shell punched through it, courtesy of the boulevard's guardian Scorpion. Two more tried barreling out of the way. The rockets tracked them and slammed into their sides. While one erupted into fire and smoke, the other carried on despite the flames raging on its canopy. It boosted forward, its engine screeching while it trailed fumes, invoking the image of a vengeful spirit seeking out its aggressor. What Duncan hated the most was that it was the one he'd aimed at, and it was coming straight for him.
Suddenly a sniper round speared through the craft's left canard with pin-point accuracy. The Banshee wobbled off balance then spiraled down forty meters before crashing into the road, detonating on impact.
Duncan glanced over at Deaks who had crouched down beside him with rifle in hand.
"Thanks for the assist Ep-3, now get back to your position." The Staff said, reloading his launcher.
Deaks looked at Duncan, nodded then jogged away. "Make sure it's a kill shot next time, hey Irish?"
"Will do." Duncan took a knee to reload then stood back up, a little shaken but ready. There were still two Banshees left only 30 meters away.
"Again." The Staff said. Duncan took aim at the one on the left. They waited until their lock-on's were both primed. "Mark!"
They fired simultaneously. Four more rockets flew straight and true to their targets. The Banshees failed to dodge as they received a one-two punch of explosions to their hulls that ripped them to pieces. Duncan felt a slight rush at seeing the one he was aiming at turn into a small sun. He had to admit, it was a little satisfying.
More explosions around him caught his attention. On the floor below, Squad Echo shot out rockets that struck Banshees coming from every conceivable direction. The Banshees kept pouring towards the intersection regardless. Two got close enough to strafe the Turret Hog guarding Parisii East with plasma, killing the driver. One of the Banshees ignored the nuisance of the LAAG gunner peppering its front and fired a comet of green plasma before veering off. The torpedo struck the Hog and both the vehicle and its occupants turned into bits of burning flesh and flying debris.
A handful of Banshees broke through to the intersection from Parisii East. The Scorpions struggled to track the fast-moving craft with their cannons while their turret gunners stitched bullet holes through their hulls. The Marines armed with rocket launchers filled the skies with snaking exhaust trails that would occasionally swat a Banshee out of the sky or miss entirely.
Nova and Yuri quickly tossed over two more rockets each to the Staff and Duncan. They reloaded and turned to face the airborne threats now breaking out from Parisii West.
Duncan eyed a duo strafing one of the troop carriers and pinning down a Marine fireteam. One of the aircraft fell prey to a hyper-accurate Scorpion so he homed in on the second. He sent out two rockets that spiraled down. They struck the Banshee's rear like twin lightning bolts, the resulting explosion slicing it in two and sending its wing canards bouncing across the intersection.
Another one down.
"Rookie."
Duncan turned, grabbed the ammo Yuri was tossing out of the air and started popping them into his launcher, but it caused him to miss the rurring sound coming up from beneath.
A Banshee that had sneakily flew up the side of the building flipped into the air just a few meters in front of him. He spun to face it right as it fired a plasma torpedo mid-maneuver. He flinched and fired as well. Both torpedo and rocket collided in midair and detonated, creating a super-heated pressure wave that threw Duncan off his feet.
As he flew back, he felt time slow as adrenaline quickened his mind. He spotted the Banshee slowly recovering from its spin to face the building. He could also see the Staff and Yuri recoiling at the blast. He immediately understood that the craft had to be stopped from focusing on anyone else before they could react. He grabbed the MA37 on his back and took aim.
Time sped up again.
Duncan's back hit the floor. He skidded across the rooftop firing full auto at the Banshee. The attack craft turned his way, unleashing a torrent of blue plasma in return. As he slid to a stop, Duncan tucked his limbs close to his chest to present a smaller target, dodging several bursts that slashed at the concrete around him while firing back.
He bought enough time for Rico to get an angle on the Banshee. The ODST shot a single grenade that arced just over its canopy and released the trigger. The explosion's EMP effect knocked out its avionics and sent it into a freefall. A rocket from Hector gave it a devastating uppercut. As it tumbled away, The Staff who'd recovered got a chance to lock on. He loosed a final projectile that raced down after the paralyzed target like a viper darting after its prey. It struck, ripping the craft into pieces that spiraled down to the intersection below like fiery confetti.
Nova jogged over and pulled Duncan onto his feet. "You good?"
He shook his head to deal with the stars swarming his vision. He took a shaky step forward and nearly fell over. Nova caught him and threw one of his arms over her shoulders. "Ep-1, 8's a little winded."
The Staff spotted her helping him walk to the sidelines. "Copy. Ep-5, take his SPANKR."
Duncan heard the Russian laugh maniacally over comms. He looked back and saw him picking up his fallen rocket launcher. "Good job on last Banshee, rookie. At least you no die."
Duncan gave him a thumbs up. He couldn't bring himself to respond otherwise since his head still swam. Nova rested him against the far wall. She patted him on the shoulder then crouch-walked back to her position.
Regardless of his hazy vision, Duncan was able to peek over the wall at what was unfolding. Dozens of similar ground-to-air dogfights had erupted across the block. Scores of Banshees flew around in pockets across the area, hovering like flies over the wounds of a dying animal. A number strafed the ground while receiving machine gun and missile fire in response.
Duncan waited until he finally stopped feeling like he was swaying on the deck of a ship and got up. Since Yuri was on SPANKR duty, he slid over to his side, grabbed the ammo case and started tossing over rockets to him whenever he needed them.
The fighting on the intersection between Dreyfus and Parisii Boulevard went on for another ten minutes during which time a second wave of Banshees arose. One after another the ODST and Marine Rocketeers started running out of ammo. The bulk of the fighting fell to the Scorpions and Turret Hogs who kept up the fire on the invading assault crafts. Cannon fire obliterated some while concentrated ballistic impacts slowly killed others. That didn't stop a persistent trio of Banshees from getting close enough to deliver a barrage of plasma torpedoes at the tanks. One Scorpion had its rear-mounted cannon fly a dozen meters into the air as an explosion gusted through its frame, enveloping the turret gunner and immolating the driver in the cockpit. Another Scorpion managed to survive a direct hit that set parts of its canopy ablaze. It paid its aggressors back in spades, knocking two of them out. The third Banshee got too close to 1st platoon's building. A 105-millimeter shell missed its target and slammed into the structure.
The building shook.
"That was too close!" Zack yelled.
Rico fired a grenade at the escaping Banshee that bounced off its topside then detonated, shutting down the craft. It fell close enough for a Scorpion to spear through it with a cannon shell, finishing it off.
The ODSTs and surviving Marines kept their eyes on the sky. The air remained thankfully clear. Things were also clearing up across the block as more Banshees were shot down. After another five minutes the sounds of fighting faded away completely.
Deaks swiveled his rifle sites from one location to another. "Think it's over?"
The Staff took a look around for himself. "No, it's just getting started." He switched to team comms. "Ep-1 to 1st, grab your gear people, we're moving out."
:********:
With the surrounding block now secured, the way had been cleared to the Starport. Major General Horvath broadcasted the orders across SATCOM for all UNSC forces assigned to the mission to begin the assault. Both the 1st and 2nd Battalion of the 211th Marines pushed in, the 1st from the North and the 2nd from the South. Over a thousand Marines were on the move on either side, spearheaded by the bulk of the 53rd Armored Division's Tanks and Hogs.
1st Platoon watched 1st Battalion's Charlie Company come rolling down North Dreyfus Boulevard. They jogged in their platoons alongside Scorpion and Hog convoys that drove down the streetway.
The ODSTs got their hands on some ammo from several munition trucks. With their rifles and SPANKRs satisfactorily fed, the troopers hopped onto available Hogs. Those with rocket launchers, Duncan among them, loaded onto the passenger seats of Scorpions.
As they carried on along South Dreyfus, they caught sight of other armored columns and Marine companies moving down adjacent streets. There were other ODSTs as well, some on tanks and some in Hogs. Everyone was headed in the same direction.
Duncan sat in the rear-left passenger seat of a Tank with Rico, Hector and the Staff occupying the other three. He was focused on the way ahead when he heard something clamber up the back of the vehicle behind him. He looked and saw the backside of the squad's radioman as he climbed up the back of the tank onto the top of its rotational cannon. A cold uncertainty settled in his gut. "Uuugh, Ep-7?"
"Yeah?"
"You sure about that?"
Zack shifted over to peer down at him, no easy feat considering the hefty new radio he'd been issued upon their return to New Memphis. "Worry about yourself, Irish." He punctuated the statement by brandishing a SPANKR of his own.
"Where'd you-"
"Same place you got yours."
"…You sure that's okay for you to be up there?"
Zack skirted over to where he could see the open cockpit and the tank's helmeted driver. "Hey guy, is it okay for me to be up here?"
The Driver, a man with ruddy features and a helmet that read 'Marty' turned around. He looked confused at not initially spotting the one who asked the question, then winced at seeing Zack on the cannon. He gave a knowingly mischievous smile. "You should be good my guy, just mind the boom."
"Minding the boom, got it."
The Staff slowly turned and spotted Zack straddling the cannon like a cowboy on a horse. The latter gave him a thumbs up. The Staff simply turned back around and shook his head.
Everyone's attention shifted skyward as a squadron of five Longswords shot overhead, quickly followed up by two more squadrons all headed towards the Starport.
"Hit'em hard, flyboys!" Yuri cheered.
The squadron disappeared from sight. Ten seconds passed before several dozen consecutive booms rumbled through the city.
"Sounds like they're drilling the Covies." Hector noted.
The Staff nodded. "Let's find out."
The armored column kept pushing up the boulevard until they could see their destination.
The Starport Apron was a 4-square kilometer area of tarmac with an organized layout of crisscrossing runways, directional signages and four cylindrical air traffic control towers, one stationed in each of the four corners. At the center was the 2-kilometer long C-shaped building that was the mission's main focus.
What stood out to Duncan right away was the civilian starships, at least twenty in fact, that remained docked via telescopic boarding tubes to the De Gaulle. What wasn't so obvious was why they weren't on fire. Yet there was fire. A wall of flames several hundred meters long was raging on the western perimeter. He looked closer and spotted the blackened wrecks of multiple Wraiths acting as kindle wood.
Scorpion Tanks and Warthogs began streaming over the enflamed tarmac and passed the burning vehicles. More Wraiths who had been holding position on the north turned to face the breach.
Four important interstate highways hemmed in the Starport Apron like a picture frame. The elements of the 53rd Armored leading the 1st Battalion Marines ploughed over the guard rails of one of the highways. They drove over the lanes, continuing to run over more rails until they burst through to the other side, leaving openings for the Marines to filter through.
The tanks moved off the highway and ran over the perimeter fence to let their treads rumble across the concrete of the apron. Squads of Marines and ODSTs came right behind them, using them as shields.
A line of 12 Wraiths now stood between them and the Starport. The Tanks pushed forward, responding to the plasma mortars that rained down around them with cannon fire.
"Here we go." The Staff said.
Duncan watched a mortar strike the front of a Scorpion close by. The vehicle went up in flames as the 105mm rounds stored inside blew off the cannon and sent the bodies of the Marines onboard flying.
"Ep-4 and 6, hit the one on the right!" The Staff ordered. "Ep-8, we're dancing with the one on the left! Take'em out people!"
The ODSTs winked their acknowledgement lights and fired their SPANKRS in tandem with their tank's cannon.
The Wraith to their immediate left managed to fire off another mortar at them before a cannon-round punched its central canopy. Four additional rockets reduced it to an inferno. The driver named Marty maneuvered their Scorpion to the right to dodge one mortar then to the left to evade another. The second Wraith struggled to track their serpentine movements as a duo of rockets pounded its frame. It bled flames and coolant, although it boosted out of the way of the two follow-ups that snaked past, missing it entirely.
Hector and Rico were fighting to reload in time, Rico growling in frustration at the miss. The Wraith fired first. It was obvious by its trajectory that it had them dead to rights.
Marty throttled the accelerator and sent them speeding forward then swerving to the left. The mortar's shadow passed overhead then detonated harmlessly several meters away. He fired his cannon into the Wraith, pushing it back but not killing it.
"I got this one!" Zack said and loosed a rocket from above the cannon. The explosive caught one of the stabilizing fins, sending out a blast which spread like a rapid infection of flames that rippled through its structure until it burst through the central carriage, splitting it into two jagged halves. "That one's for kabobbing Matchstick!"
A duo of Banshees zoomed in from the skies, lining up for a bombing run. The tank operator angled his cannon up, forcing Zack to hold on one-handed as it fired a shell clean through the underbelly of one. The aircraft flew apart, damaging its partner with impacting debris. Zack sent a final rocket into the last Banshee that finished it off. "That one's for Eagle!"
"The way's clear." Marty said. "I'm pushing up."
They carried on past the burning Wraith.
Duncan was quietly hoping for a smooth ride from here on out. In the East he saw other Scorpions pushing across the tarmac through forests of burning Wraiths. The same thing unfolded over in the north as the 53rd and the Marines began breaking through the West on his right.
He wasn't paying attention to the last Wraith on his left.
It boosted toward a nearby Scorpion and fired a mortar into it, baking it in flames before ploughing through its frame like a hammer, killing its crew in the resulting blast. The Wraith's momentum carried it forward. Duncan pulled his legs in just before it crashed into them. He flew back against the tank and saw Zack thrown clear of the cannon.
"Zack!"
The radioman tumbled out of sight. The Wraith kept pushing until its boosters faded out. Duncan found himself staring down the glowing pedal-like opening of its energy mortar which still teamed with blue energy. He couldn't fire his SPANKR, not at this range. But neither could the Wraith, not without risking its own destruction. The Wraith's pilot must have understood that as well since it didn't fire. He could only give thanks that its turret gunner was missing, but the Scorpion's equivalent fired point-blank into its metallic hide.
The Scorpion slowly drove forward while simultaneously turning to face the target. For a moment it was a race to see who could get out of range of the other's blast radius and fire first.
Two rockets beat them to it, striking the Wraith's rear exhaust port. The fusillade smashed into the core component, rupturing its propulsion drive. The vehicle collapsed onto the ground then was ripped apart as a large conflagration pulled open its central chassis like the ribcage of a corpse.
Duncan looked around it and spotted Zack crouched a few meters away, the twin barrels of his SPANKR smoking. He stood up on his feet and yelled: "And that one's for the Captain!"
:********:
While the battle continued around the Starport, the Northern and Southern sectors were quickly secured. Still, the 53rd were having a hard time sandwiching the bulk of the Wraiths in the West near the bordering interstate highway.
The fighting left behind a graveyard of burning Scorpions, Warthogs, Wraiths and the bodies of Marines and some ODSTs that hadn't made it. Yet there were no Covenant ground troops to be spoken of. That fact alone dominated 1st platoon's concerns as they moved across the parallel concourses of Terminal A in the Northern Wing. They were forced to split up to account for the space's various levels connected by cases of inactive escalators.
So far no one had reported any run-ins with Grunts, Jackals or Elites. The relatively darkened interior was left almost immaculate save for the occasional plasma burn that pock-marked ceiling signage or one of the chairs in the rows of seats around them.
Duncan felt he was probably more worried than anyone else. If the Covenant wanted to ambush them, this was the perfect place to do it. But nothing had jumped out at them yet. That didn't mean of course that there was nothing here. The incident at North Camden taught him as much. He moved alongside the Staff and Nova in clearing their concourse, constantly searching through his targeting reticle for any non-human shapes that moved. They reached the end, finding nothing.
The Staff called, turning to the upper concourse on their left. "Ep-4, Ep-6, got anything?"
Hector and Rico both walked over, shaking their heads.
"Nothing."
"Nah, Jefe. Nada."
The Staff turned his attention to the lower level on their right. "Ep's 3, 5 and 7, anything?"
"No sir!" Zack yelled unnecessarily loud.
Duncan glanced over and saw Deaks slap Zack in the back of the head.
"Nothing down here." The Corporal replied. "Just bags and some idiot, nothing we need to worry about."
Yuri was crouched down around a clutch of abandoned suitcases. "Some of bags have nice goodies inside. Does it still count as stealing if owners are probably dead?"
"Nah!" Zack shouted again. "The Covies don't use dogs, Yuri! How could they be dog owners!?"
Nova came over to peer down at them, shaking her head in pity. "What's wrong with him? He's been shouting like that since we got in here."
"He's partially deaf." The Staff sighed. "Figured I should've told him to get off that cannon. I don't have a clue when his hearing will be back to normal. Ep-3 and 5, keep an eye out for any Covenant and Ep-7, one's a danger and the other's a liability."
The two troopers flashed their acknowledgement lights in annoyance. Zack, for lack of good hearing, asked: "What!? What'd he say!?"
Deaks walked up to him. "Just stay put."
"You want me to eat your foot!? What!?
Deaks stared him down for a moment. Then he grabbed him by the shoulder and steered him to a seat, making him sit down. He held up a hand to his visor and pointed down at the floor, the sign to stay put. Thankfully, Zack was only deaf, not blind. He nodded in understanding.
The Staff comm'd Joels next but got a similar answer from him. The Sergeant and his team had found nothing on the floor above. That meant Terminal A was clear.
Duncan still had his doubts, not to mention that they hadn't checked the lower-maintenance halls. Anything could still be down there. Even so, he figured at least something should be up here, or perhaps some sign that the Covenant spent longer in the building. Yet they hadn't torched it, damaged the tarmac or destroyed even a single one of the civilian starships outside. The aliens were known for their single-minded devotion to the annihilation of any semblance of humanity across the stars, so why hadn't they done anything to this building that had been in their possession for weeks?
Duncan thought twice about it. There was no way they had abandoned that goal. Then he caught a thought that answered the quandary in a way that sent a cold shiver through his being: Unless they still intended to carry out that destructive devotion, just not right away. Not yet.
He got an idea. It was a longshot but it could work, and he secretly hoped to God he was wrong. "Hey Ep-4."
Hector came back over. "Yeah?"
"You still have that Mineral Scanner from that Op on Epsilon Eridani IV?"
"Yeah, but I was saving it for scraps. What about it?"
Duncan held up his hands. "Toss it over real-quick, would you? I want to try something."
Hector reached into his rucksack, pulled out the pieces of the requested device and dropped them down to him.
On close inspection the defibrillator-look-alike only had its rectangular metal pan-section removed from the handle. It was a simple fix. It took him less than a minute to install the components back into place. The instrument beeped to life. The visual display on the back of the scanner showed the room around him as shapes highlighted and mixed along a spectrum of colors representing the various chemical compositions of the objects.
Nova wondered over to him. "What're you up to?"
"Just figuring something out." Duncan said as he typed in commands on the small keypad, switching what materials he wanted to scan for to a single element: Tritium.
On the display every other color disappeared, leaving behind a black fizzy darkness. But there was a small blue light that appeared one moment then disappeared the next, then reappeared. He pointed the scanner at his feet and saw the origin was a small ovular shape that blipped regularly with blue light.
"Found something." Duncan said.
The Staff strode over to him and looked over the readouts with Nova. "What is that?"
"Trace amounts of Tritium sir. Looks like the source is at least 60 meters below us. I'm thinking a sublevel near Baggage Claim."
The Staff Sergeant considered it and passed down judgement quickly. "Epsilon we're heading down to Baggage. Echo-1, have your squad stay up here."
"Copy." Joels replied. "If you need us, you know where to find us."
Epsilon quickly rendezvoused in Terminal A's central concourse. Duncan led the way using his scanner. They headed down one escalator after another until they came down to the ground floor. It was a lengthy space with an intricate system of conveyor belts marking it out as the baggage claim section.
The blue blip on the mineral scanner was larger and brighter now. Duncan pointed to a door between the last baggage conveyor and the vehicle rental desks. "There."
The Staff pointed to Rico and Hector then at the door. The squad stacked up on either side of it. On the Staff's go-ahead, Rico grabbed the handle and pulled it open. Hector stepped inside rifle raised.
"Clear."
The ODSTs filed inside and found themselves in a large room with stacks of abandoned suitcases that formed long isles. They fanned out across it like a spearhead with Duncan at the tip, holding his rifle with one hand and the scanner extended out with the other.
The blue blip on his display grew larger and larger until it led him to a section of suitcases in one of the isles. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Still, at the Staff's behest, half of the squad began pulling away suitcases while the other half guarded them. At moving the last two they found a wide section of floor-paneling that had been removed then almost seamlessly welded back into place. Almost.
"Ep-2." The Staff gestured to it.
Nova nodded. She took out a blowtorch and used the high-pressure flames to cut along the seams like a neurologist conducting a craniectomy. She finished the job then wedged her fingers inside to get some leverage. Hector helped her pull the paneling away and they slid it to the side. What was left was a small, two-meter deep hole in the ground.
A large ovular object sat at the bottom.
It briefly reminded Duncan of a violet pin cushion with long black needles poking out of it like spikes. But then he gradually figured out what it really was that he was looking at. He was thankful for his visor which hid the fact that the blood had drained from his face, only he didn't think it was going to do him much good anymore.
Nova swallowed. "That's…ho-, how did they-…"
"What is it?" Rico asked, walking over. He stopped beside them, looked down and almost dropped his rifle. His voice fell to a whisper. "Madre de Dios. ¿Cuándo llegó eso aquí?
Yuri wondered over as well out of curiosity. "Ugh, what is it?"
"That's an Antimatter Charge." Nova said with the calmness of a doctor calling in a patient's time of death.
The squad stood deathly still at the proclamation.
"Timer?" The Staff asked.
"Worse." Nova pointed down to the ovular device at a holograph of eight yellow-circles projecting from the center. "That would be blinking red if it were on a timer. It's not. But it would've been blue if it was simply active, which means…" The Engineering Specialist faded off in thought for a moment. No one dared to say a word until she finished. "Which means this thing is on remote detonation."
"Wait-wait." Hector said, holding up his hands. "Are you telling me that this could blow at any time?"
Nova slowly nodded her head. "If this thing goes off, it'll take half the Starport out with it." She turned to the others. "And I don't think I need to tell you what that means for us."
:********:
Second Blade R'tas Vadumee watched the human forces route the last of the Wraiths and begin forming a perimeter around the structure they called a 'Starport'. He was brimming with an equal measure of confidence and satisfaction, knowing full well that all was going according to plan.
Occultatum - Concealed