Chapter 11 – Dispersione
May 8th, 2545 (15:25 Hours – Military Calendar)
Aquilla System, Actium
High Mediolanum, Republic of Pavia
Mezoline Block
:********:
To Duncan, it felt like they were going lower with each passing hour, and that was saying something considering they were on average around 50 meters underground. The 2nd Tier's sewer system was a lot more extensive than he'd imagined, far more so than his TACMAP could suggest. Then again it did have a limited range in subterranean conditions.
For nearly the past 4 hours the squad had moved sewer by sewer, utilizing bypass chambers and using access tunnels to maneuver around the larger, hydrogeologic aquifer reservations.
The surface was simply no longer an option. That was because of the startlingly increasing amount of Grunts there. Their Elite-led patrols of 30 or 50 Grunts each proved to be merely the outer-patrols scanning the territorial fringes. Now they were in the inner areas of the district's northeasterly sections where the Grunt settlements became denser and more prevalent. Patrols of 200 and 300 Grunts moved along the streets between these camps, their sheer ranks shaking the underground as their voices echoed down throughout the sewers.
On four separate occasions the troopers nearly ran into passages where Grunts were setting down plasma batteries and ammo crates or laying lines of pipes that filled the space with methane. Apparently, they were so numerous now that there was increasingly less available room on the surface, forcing them to start looking elsewhere for shelter.
While the notion that they were running out of space was frightening, it was also a good sign for the UNSC. It meant that the Grunts were more likely to run into a border dispute with their southeastern neighbors: The Jackals. Considering that the squad had already run into Jackal patrols on the edges of the Grunt territories earlier, there definitely was a powder keg about to be set ablaze. And since the more diminutive species was known for its high breeding rate, the idea that they would soon buck heads with their buzzard counterparts wasn't that far off the mark. Now they just needed to figure out how to drag the Drones into the future border war. Most likely the insertion teams coming in after them would assassinate one of their queens, if there were any here. Duncan had heard the buggers got especially territorial when it came to their insectoid leaders, which he still didn't know how they looked. The idea of an oversized, humanoid termite queen made him just a bit more uneasy than he already was.
There was enough unease to go around as the squad found themselves somewhere in the Mezoline Block. After Heraklion, they had had a hard time making it through the metallic catacombs of tunnels running beneath Lamia and Agrinio Blocks. Mezoline brought with it its own horrors since the tunnels here forced them closer to the surface, so close that they could now see through rows of grated, sewer drains lining the length of a sidewalk. Through them they could make out the sights that were occasionally blocked out by moving Grunt-legs.
Each block in the Residential District possessed several urban parks that broke up the monotony of building after building. The rectangular plots of recreational land were occupied by grassy fields, gatherings of trees and small lakes. Cement pathways networked throughout them and were guarded with benches and lampposts.
Over a thousand Grunts occupied the area both within and outside of the nearest park. Methane gas had spread over the area like an eerie green fog in which the mask-wearing occupiers strolled freely about, moving amongst the deep atmospheric pits dug deep into the ground and the hundreds of purple, dome-shaped tents.
Duncan noticed something out of the usual in the four steeple-like structures located near the center and pointed them out. "What's the best guess on those things?"
"Fifty credits on them being breeding chambers." Zack said suggestively. The others turned to him with quiet disapproval. He shrugged back. "Their Grunts, it's not like they're good for much else."
"Like space bunnies." Rico laughed.
"No, bunnies are too cute for that kind of comparison." Nova said.
"Space rats then?"
Hector shook his head. "That's a disrespect to rats, man."
"Yeah? Well I'll make sure to apologize to one once I see it, not like it's going to be long before I do…and speak of el diablo." Rico caught one of the sewer's hairy denizens sniffing at his boots before glancing up at his visor and running off with an alarmed squeak.
"Good job, you hurt his feelings." Nova chuckled.
Rico pretended to reach out to it. "Lo siento, señior rata."
While everyone else was quietly laughing to themselves, the Staff watched where the rat was going. He held up a hand, silencing the squad.
The Staff pointed his weapon as the rat passed underneath an opening manhole 10 meters away. A single Grunt dropped down into the sewer. It looked around with its plasma pistol in search of targets. To its detriment, the evening light from the surface only illuminated the area within its immediate vicinity, something that wasn't a problem for the ODSTs. By then the squad already had their weapon sights set on the unsuspecting alien.
The Staff jabbed his thumb backwards. The others kept their steps quiet while they backpedaled into a nearby intersection. The Staff was the last to pull back behind the corner just before two more Grunts hopped in after the first.
Epsilon proceeded down a different route. They moved along passageways leading further north to get some distance from the nearest encampments then continued northeast.
After 10 minutes they reached a section of tunneling where the ground fell away in exchange for one of three catwalks elevated over a chamber of rushing water. The Staff held up a fist, stopping them at the threshold.
"Something wrong, sir?" Nova asked.
"You smell that?"
Zack dared to sniff the air wafting through his helmet's filters. "The crap still smells like crap sir."
"No. It smells like…chlorine."
Taking another look around, the Staff urged them across the catwalk. Along the way they received a better view of the chamber below. Waterfalls ran down both sides of the walls to their left and right, flowing from outlets near the top to an artificial lake that swirled about the catwalks' supports.
"Looks like a treatment plant." Renni commented.
No one moved to answer her back, except for Yuri. "Treatment for?"
"Chlorine is a halogen. It's used to disinfect public water supplies from disease-causing pathogens. Chances are this is a public reservoir."
"Hey Ms. ONI, I wouldn't be so sure its public." Hector said and pointed to a sign on the wall up ahead. It was a circular emblem of a smiling whale caricature leaping out at a star-studded night sky from an equally starry sea. A circumventing string of letters at the bottom read: 'HGPO'.
Renni sighed. "I guess not."
The Staff was the first to reach the door at the end of the catwalk. Thankfully, the knob clicked at his slight twist. He pulled it open and stepped inside with his shotgun at the ready. Epsilon quietly joined him in what was essentially another sewer tunnel. Only this one appeared to be unusually sanitary with transparent glass pipes that curled along its sides. Water presumably from the plant was channeled through them to some destination above. The contents were distinctly clearer and the lack of any strong scent wafting from them suggested that the chlorine had been extracted, leaving behind a purified liquid.
They were continuing down towards another door when a sound echoed through the passage, stopping them in their tracks.
In the three seconds that it lasted Duncan picked up one undeniable fact: whatever had made the noise was alive. Its sinuous resonance sounded much like deep wailing.
Wailing?
Duncan was about to figure it out when Deaks beat him to it. "Was that…a whale?"
"Sounds like it." The Staff said as he forged onward.
They passed into another hallway tidier than the last. A variety of well-stacked cleaning utensils gave it the atmosphere of a utility closet and a heavy weapons arsenal all in one.
There was someone else in the room.
A human was crouched nearby, sifting through the vacuum devices for something. Their VISRs quickly identified him with the friendly green glow of a Marine.
It took the Staff tapping him on the shoulder for him to finally notice their arrival. He jumped slightly as he swiveled about to face them. As he did, Duncan spotted the name 'Bullion' sketched onto one of his shoulder pauldrons beneath the rank bars of a private and the unit designation insignia '4th'.
"Where'd you guys come from!?" The Marine half-whispered-half-shouted.
"The sky." Yuri said drily. He wasn't wrong but the soldier's confusion only grew.
He held up his hands. "Hey, look man, if the Sarge sent you guys down here to check on me-"
"What are you looking for down here, Marine?" The Staff asked. "Answer that and we'll tell you what we're looking for."
Bullion nervously swallowed as he stood up straight. "I-, alright, I was just looking for some food. Okay? Just some food, that's it. I figured one of the janitors might've had some chips chucked away in a locker or something. There's not enough rations to go around anymore so I've been doing nothing except starving in here for the last two days."
The Staff looked to the others then took a step closer to the private. "And where exactly is here?"
:********:
The Henry Gosse Parthenon Oceanarium was the last place anyone was expecting to wind up, mostly because out of the absolute hell hole that the 2nd Tier had become, this appeared to be a genuine safe haven.
Located in the southeastern Mezoline Block, the massive oceanarium had most of its bulk hidden with only 2 of its 12 stories located on the surface. Its rectangular central building was surrounded by an ovular subterranean superstructure that framed in the rest of its facilities below ground level.
Multiple aquatic exhibits dominated both the upper and lower levels with the larger ones being further below in relation to the size of the creatures they housed.
Duncan found the open-air exhibits of Level-9 to be his favorite. As they passed the guard-rails of the surrounding platforms the ODSTs saw tanks of various shapes where the silhouettes of the marine denizens moved about. Some reminded him of sharks he'd seen at aquariums back on Earth while others bore closer resemblances to tortoises, dolphins, crabs and even squids. But Actium's own rich biodiversity had its deviations. Back on Earth, tortoises didn't have shells that looked more like oversized frag grenades that they were somehow still able to carry. Dolphins didn't have fins rivaling the size of manta rays' that flapped around them like a salsa dancer's dress as they spiraled through the water. Crabs didn't have stingers and tree-length limbs that would put even the mightiest spider crabs to shame, nor did squids look like they had more in common with human-sized shrimp bearing seven flexible claws with inbuilt fins in exchange of eight adaptable tentacles. And apparently, according to Bullion, the latter of those were just the infants. The adults were somewhere further down on Level 12 in larger, more contained exhibits.
They soon headed down an underwater tunnel. To either side, clouds of fish swam along self-generated traffic lanes in their groups. They moved above and around artificial coral reefs that imitated those he'd seen back at Lavender Beach. A few larger creatures were in there as well. The most notable were the Catfish-Mako Shark hybrids he'd seen earlier. They seemed to stalk the troopers as they walked along the glass tunnel, tracking them with their hauntingly black eyes.
Further back Duncan noticed a set of secondary, more sizable exhibitions. Within them sailed figures possessing the paleness of Beluga Whales and the arrowhead shape of Blue Whales. Exactly which they were was a mystery to Duncan, or maybe they were their own brand of aquatic mammal. When they wailed towards each other they caught the rest of the squad's attention, confirming where that earlier noise had come from. It was obvious at the very least that the fauna housed here was thriving, unlike the humans.
Civilians were crowded on almost every level by the thousands. Men, women and children had found space where they could, sitting against the railings of open-air exhibits or the glass walls of underwater tunnels. Many wore torn clothes and smelt as if they hadn't taken a shower in days or more. They lay sprawled out amongst their belongings or clustered together in bundles of families where the parents used whatever they had at their disposal to occupy their children. Charades and toys were a common site in those circles. But many of the kids and even a few of the adults eyed the fish within the nearby tanks with more hunger than wonder. The same could be seen in the tired gazes of the Marine squads patrolling past them. While they used wheel-bound snack tables to pass out the scanty rations they had on hand, they too watched the aquatic predators circling around them with an equally predatory stare.
Duncan wasn't sure how bad things really were until he saw a desperate-looking father splitting up an MRE bar with his wife and two daughters. The way their dirtied and scarred faces observed the pieces with raptured awe shook him to his core. Most battle hardened UNSC personnel would actively avoid the nutritionally dense MRE bars. Even most ODSTs that he'd met preferred starvation, saying that their personal pride wouldn't allow them to eat it when they had their own waste on hand, the taste of which was said to be relatively the same, if not slightly better. But the family didn't look like they had any such worries. Life seemed to have humbled them too much in the last week for them to worry about deadly deterrents like personal pride.
Private Bullion directed them to another stairwell and up to the next floor. The other Marines they encountered along the way were forced to do the same. All but a few of the elevators were shutdown to preserve power at the order of the 4th Expeditionary Marine Division's CO.
That was exactly who these Marines had to be. The '4th' insignia still visible on some of their BDU's was a dead giveaway. Their bloodshot eyes and long stares was indicative of extreme combat fatigue and the general atmosphere amongst the individual fireteams, squads and platoons they encountered was one of pure exhaustion.
But the fact there were this many of them alive was a reassuring surprise. Their being here meant that the 22nd had to have had some support when they dropped in, even though it didn't seem to have been nearly enough.
Once they came onto Level 3 just below the streets, the squad happened upon the first combined groups. There were a few squads of Helljumpers scattered here and there that had intermingled with the Marines. Even they looked like they'd had a rough time of it, albeit it not as bad as the 4th.
Seeing them was also a welcomed relief. This far into the Residential District, there were still troopers from their sister battalion alive and active. Duncan wished they got the chance to approach them and ask what was going on. It was the Staff's judgement that led them onward, being that the current CO of the 4th Marines would probably give them a better view of the tactical situation here.
Another stairwell later, they reached Level 2, entering into a titanium floored foyer area with a number of information desks scattered around the front and several receptionist stations at the back. The same emblem of a smiling whale leaping over a starry sky was painted on the floor as well as the front and rear walls. The dark room was occupied by around half a company's worth of Marines. Riflemen dashed between ammunition stations setup at the information and receptionist decks and a long sandbag wall setup around the glass doors at the front. Off to the left, dozens of their wounded were being tended to by medical personnel. Their patients often writhed while teammates restrained them, allowing the medic to spray biofoam into their steaming wounds. The more exhausted among the wounded received shots of morphine. Those that lay utterly still were the least problematic and gave their teary-eyed comrades the chance to remove their dog tags before their body bags were zipped shut.
Bullion led them over to a gathering at the room's center. There, a rough looking Marine with thick eyebrows, an unshaven face, an officer's cap and unblinking eyes was talking to a group of squad leaders. He almost sounded like a street preacher condemning the masses to an eternity of torment. The faces of the men and women he spoke to were hard, tired yet attentive as he gave them their orders on how to reallocate their squads and remaining resources.
Duncan noticed the name 'J. Krauss' tagged to his BDU's left breastplate. Next to it was the insignia of a silver star and single lateral bar that identified him as a Major.
They waited until he had dismissed the last squad leader before the Staff approached him. "Are you the CO here, Major?"
"Hell if I am and hell if I'm not, I'm just as damned as everyone else around here." The Major huffed, jumping down onto the floor. "And you'd be?"
"Staff Sergeant Atell, Bravo Company, 7th Shock Troops Battalion. These my are my troopers."
Major Krauss' expression instantly changed from mild aggravation to surprise. "You're with the 7th?"
"Yessir."
Krauss glanced between the rest of the squad then to Bullion. "Get going, Bully. I'll handle things from here."
The private saluted and went on his way.
Krauss nodded them towards a nearby stairwell.
The squad went after him up the next staircase to Level 1. The topmost floor lacked any furniture which suggested it was a recent extension to the building, possibly a pending office area. It had a decently elevated view of the outside area through its many windows. Structures in the oceanarium's immediate vicinity were also dark, including the private parking lots, mandatory waiting zones and ticket booths that lay just ahead of the steps leading to the front doors.
They circumvented several gatherings of Marines doing work on antennae-based radio equipment, a work that was getting nowhere judging by their frustrated sentences and expressions. The troopers headed over the mahogany flooring to a walled-off office room and stepped inside.
Krauss turned on the lights only after he had set down the window shutters, ensuring anyone or anything nearby wouldn't notice them.
With a heavy breath, he sat down atop the room's lone desk. "Alright, I have a few questions for you and I'm sure you've got some for me. But first, mind telling me how you folks from the 7th wound up this far in without getting toasted?"
"The sewers." Zack shrugged. "It's the only real way to travel these days."
Krauss had a small smile of amusement nearly creep onto his countenance until it disappeared behind his renewed poker face. "So what's going on in the outside world? In case you haven't figured it out already, we at the 4th have been cut off from contacting anyone outside this building. As things stand, we're a little short on time, ammo, food and well…everything else."
The Staff chose to make himself comfortable and leaned back against one of the walls. The others followed his example and sat or stood where they could. Over the course of the next five minutes the Staff detailed the events that had unfolded up to the most recent push by UNSC forces into the 2nd Tier. It gave the Major a much-needed update on his view of the situation, filling in the blanks left by the 22nd ODSTs that he'd already encountered.
At the end, Krauss showed his gratefulness with a partially confused and partially entertained glare. "So that was you guys that almost blew up half the city this morning then? Makes sense. Well thank you for that. It clears some things up. Just some. There's still a few glaring holes in this story that I want to understand. What your reason is for coming this far in would be one of them. I'd assume you're a scouting force since you don't have more than a squad. But what exactly are you reconning?"
"We're not recon, sir." The Staff said. "We have a mission straight from the top."
"I'd like to ask about that. Something's telling me I'll want to know before nightfall."
From where he sat, Duncan could tell that the Major bore a few suspicions towards them. He couldn't blame him. There was much more he and his Marines needed to know, especially considering that they would be in the thick of it once things kicked off.
The Staff slipped off his helmet and held it against his hip. He scratched the long scar running across the left side of his face in thought, possibly looking for a way to phrase their operation. He sighed, dropping all intent for pretense. "I'm sure you've realized that the reason you can't contact anyone is because of the presence of Covenant Jammers within your proximity. My squad is one of several tasked with moving behind enemy lines to reach and secure those Jammers."
"Secure?" Krauss raised a brow. "Why not destroy them?"
"We're planning on using them against the enemy, to block their own signals. Afterwards, secondary infiltration teams will spark a conflict between the Grunts, Jackals and Drones that have started settling across the Residential District. Our modus operandi for the 2nd Tier is to have the Covenant weaken each other enough for our smaller force to stand a better chance against them. By using the jammers to suppress their communications, we'll keep them in the dark. Their leadership won't be able to coordinate any efforts to stop the friendly fire which will allow it to spiral more and more out of their control."
Krauss was wide-eyed by the time he finished his sentence. He scrutinized the Staff with visible disbelief. But the Helljumper's steadfast demeanor slowly convinced him that he was actually serious.
"Hold on, hold on, okay, does ONI have something to do with this?"
The Staff and some in the squad briefly glanced over at Renni who made sure to keep her attention straight forward.
"In a sense." The Staff said. "However, the overall organization of this operation has fallen to military leadership."
"Uhuh, sure it has. That's what ONI always says so that they aren't the fall guys in case their little test goes south. And that's all this is right, a test run for some experimental tech you were given access to by the Office?"
"Not exactly, sir. Its already been extensively field tested. What we're doing here is imploring its known capabilities to use the Covenant's tech against them."
Krauss crossed his arms over his chest. "You sound crazy." He breathed out. "Then again, these are crazy times. And when do you need to reach your…objective?"
"We'll need to be in place in another hour and a half. Everything sparks off at 1800. We should be able to reach where we believe our objective to be in the next 30 minutes."
"Ten, actually." Krauss corrected.
"Sir?"
"Things are about to get a whole lot louder around here." Krauss said, rubbing his chin as he looked at the shuttered windows. "I know where your objective is, Staff Sergeant. The Jammer, its less than ten minutes away from here inside a water tower."
Now it was the Staff's turn to arch an eyebrow. "How do you know that?"
Krauss rubbed the back of his neck with an exhaustion in his face that hadn't been there before. "I…sent out a recon team to check it out a few days ago. Before we lost contact, they had a sniper crew confirm the presence of a Jammer on one of the upper floors. The Covenant started bringing in CCJs a while back. I sent a few squads to take out the nearest one but I haven't heard back from them since."
"Can I ask what happened here that allowed them to setup their equipment across the city like this?"
Krauss' eyes became heavier. "Then I'd have to tell you the full story…if you're interested."
At the Staff's nod, the Major continued. "Our division was originally assigned here on a garrisoning post. We were just going about our business when news came in that the Covenant had arrived in Aquilla. That was the start of Day One. Our Division Commander, Major General Menshau had us working with the HMPD to evacuate civilians while we setup defensive positions to delay the expected ground assault. We wanted to get the 53rd Armored over here for reinforcements as well but their hands were tied up in Treviso so we were on our own. We started guiding people to the Starports. Then because of the traffic that created we decided to change tact. Instead, we started directing people to evacuation points like this one at the oceanarium to alleviate the situation on the streets. From there, they were airlifted to Starports in the 3rd Tier or to cargo ships already waiting in the stratos. Thankfully, we got a lot of them out. Then the Covenant showed up.
At first, they brought their ships into a holding pattern over the city, not glassing us right away for whatever reason. It gave us a chance to hold their ground troops back a little longer. But by noon our division commander got KIA'd and the Starports started going dark. The airlifts also stopped around the same time. By 1530 Hours our leadership organization was so shot that any kind of coordinated effort at that point was impossible. Individual units began operating on their own, and by 1620 Hours our evacuation points like here became rallying points instead for anyone still hanging around. That led to our current predicament, having plenty of civilians that came to be evacuated and no way left to evacuate them."
Major Krauss pointed at a nearby window. "On Day Two we were all spread around out there. From what I can remember, 5th Battalion was holding out at the Perseus Institute over in Eleusis Block, the same with 9th battalion over at the cultural center in Kastoria. Captain Henderson was managing whoever was left in Veria at the Titus gymnasiums and there were a few other holdouts operating in scattered pockets here and there. The last of the police held out for a while at the HMPD HQ a good distance southwest of this place. I tried convincing their Chief of Police to come here where it was safer but he wouldn't budge, said they were doing just fine on their own. They got overrun about an hour later. I managed to pull the surviving companies of the 2nd and 3rd Battalions together to assemble here in Mezoline.
Our casualties were mounting. In a way they still are but it was worse back then because the Covies considered us an immediate threat. That was when they started setting up those jammers to isolate us. We lost contact with anyone in the southern sector at 0500 and the whole northern sector just 10 minutes later. By 0530 we couldn't get any messages out ourselves and the Covies started launching fresh assaults shortly after. They make at least two attempts to root us out every day. What you saw downstairs was the aftermath of the latest bonanza. This whole time we've had to suck it up, waiting and hoping reinforcements would come." A scowl flashed over his face. "You only took about a week to get here."
"We got caught up in Treviso." The Staff explained. "Our leaders kept getting offed so we had no real coordination ourselves until fairly recently."
Krauss nodded. "In any case, it didn't do us much good. When the 22nd Shock Troops showed up on our front porch out of the clear blue this morning we linked up with them and gave them what support we could. We thought with them we might have a chance to make a final push out of here. Turns out we were wrong. Dead wrong. And so was Taylors. But it wasn't like we could've told him what he would run into down here. Even we didn't know how bad things had gotten in places like Sycion or Rhodes with the Covies deciding to squat all around the 2nd Tier. For now, we're stuck here until either the rest of your forces decide to move in or the enemy starves us out. From the looks of things, one of those seems closer than the other."
The Staff took less than a heartbeat to consider the situation and form new questions. "Do you know why it is that their ships didn't stay?"
Krauss shrugged. "Who honestly knows. They disappeared on the first day. The last I saw of them; they were headed further east after they'd dropped every Covenant soldier in the system on top of our heads. My best guess is they didn't want to fry the place they wanted as their new home. If I'd have known that I would've preferred they glassed it. The thought of a Grunt and a Jackal sitting in the couch of someone's living room watching Waypoint is one I don't favor."
"And what about the pipes?"
"What about the pipes? Listen, all I can tell you is that they're an honest-to-God afterthought when you're facing Alamo conditions every day for the better part of a week."
"Fair enough." The Staff said and moved to change the subject. "What about this water tower? How can we get there?"
Krauss finally slipped off the desk to stand and called out to someone outside the door. "Asana, come on in. We'll need you for this part."
The door opened and an ODST stepped inside. His BDU was more visibly battered than anyone else' in the room. He took off his helmet, exposing his chiseled yet bruised face and low-shorn red hair as he came beside the Major.
Krauss bumped a fist on his armored shoulder. "This is Captain Asana. He and his squad both came in with the 22nd this morning. They've been lending us a helping hand in fending off the Grunts here ever since. I figured I owed him this favor."
"Favor?" The Staff asked.
Asana nodded. "Yeah, and I figured you were the best way for me and my squad to get where we need to go."
Seeing the befuddlement on his face, Captain Asana answered by sending a contact to the squad's TACMAPs. Their HUDs alerted them to it and they found themselves looking at the complex schematics of a tunnel running in a northeasterly direction before stopping at a blue endpoint.
"What's this, sir?"
"Service tunnels running between here and the tower." Asana replied. "My ODSTs have been scouting it out ever since the Major told us where that CCJ is located. We were looking at heading there to take it out ourselves for a while now but I wasn't sure if we had the numbers that we needed. Now with your squad, I know we can neutralize it."
"Well that solves that problem." Hector laughed wearily.
The Staff turned back on the captain. "It sounds like a plan sir, only our plan isn't to destroy it."
"I overheard." Asana assured. "Don't worry. We'll accompany you so you can accomplish your mission. But we want your agreement on something before we take you out there."
The Staff's expression changed to slight concern. "What do you need from us, sir?"
"Notice the proximity that tower has to the 2nd Premiere?"
They did notice it. Maximizing their TACMAPS gave them an underground, birds eye view of what they would be heading into. There was no more than 2 kilometers between the tower and the nearest wall. Since the closer to the wall they came the more resistance they would run into, heading to the tower was the rough equivalent of approaching a hornet's nest. Factoring in the Drones made that more of a disturbing reality than an allusion.
"I see it." The Staff said. "And I don't like it."
"Neither do I. That said, you and I both need to head out in that direction. Its just that my reason for going is different. Now that you'll be taking care of that CCJ it frees my team to head straight for the wall."
For a second, Duncan thought he'd never seen a man so ready to die in his life as Captain Asana. The others were similarly in silent shock, save for Krauss who could see the next question forming on the Staff's confused face and moved to answer it.
"Its Colonel Taylors. We believe he may be somewhere around there. Asana's been hoping to go and look for him."
The Captain offered further clarification. "His last shortwave communication came from somewhere near Gatehouse-9 when he ordered everyone to withdraw from the assault at around 0720 Hours, just before he went missing. That's just 2 kilometers northeast of the water tower. If we reach that location, we might be able to find him."
"…If he's gone missing all this time then how can you be sure he's not already…" The Staff stopped as Asana closed his eyes, shook his head and smirked knowingly.
"The Colonel isn't one for dying. Death just doesn't agree with him much. I'm certain yours is the same way." His demeanor softened. "Nevertheless, his chances out there will only worsen the longer we wait. If he is still out there, he doesn't have much time, not now that we know what the rest of the UNSC forces in the city are up to."
It was a fair point. Stirring up the hornet's nest would naturally get anyone in sight stung.
Asana held out a hand. "Would do you say, Staff? We help you with your Colonel's plans and you help us save ours by extension."
The Staff looked blankly at the gesture. Then he slowly reached out. The rest of Epsilon watched as the hand of a 7th Shock Trooper shook that of a 22nd. The former's face broke into an uncertain grin. "You help us, we help you, right?"
Asana grinned back. "Right."
"Alright then. We've got your backs and you have ours."
Then its settled." Krauss sighed. "I'll inform my Marines about the hell that's about to get stirred up around here. You troopers meanwhile can just get going."
Captain Asana nodded as he turned to the Staff. "Follow me."
:********:
The service tunnel leading to the water tower was damp but reasonably secure. The sole concern for everyone moving through it was the line running along the walls where the dampness stopped. It was 3 meters high, meaning that the water level would, with time, rise well over head-height.
As both Squad Epsilon under the Staff and Squad Griffin under Captain Asana departed the oceanarium for this subterranean passage, the former squad's worries were dominated by the fact that their route was inherently purposed for submersion. The passage acted as an intermediary between the oceanarium and the tower's water reserves, actively transiting newly treated water between the private company facility and the government facility.
For now, the water was just at their heels. Though there was no telling how long it would remain there, Duncan discovered that the further they went the more the water seemed to creep up their boots.
The 8 ODSTs of Squad Griffin led the way forward with Captain Asana taking point while Epsilon carried the rear. Their footsteps made mild splashes through the dark, their noises drowned out by the constant avalanche coming from the surface. Grunts were always streaming across the overhead roadways, reminding them where they were going and how much stealth would be required.
"When he said service tunnel, I figured it would've been, you know, drier." Deaks griped.
"It provides a service." The Staff corrected. "We better hope it doesn't provide it any time soon."
"If I wanted to get wet, I would've stayed on that beach back west."
"La Playa is no place for us." Rico said. "We go where the fight goes."
"Yeah, and I'm saying if we didn't do that, we would be a lot drier, or at least more wet with seawater. I'd take that over this."
"Amen." The Staff agreed. "Now shut up and keep moving."
"Ay-ay, sir."
The troopers continued in silence, climbing up inclines, sliding down short declines and swerving around angular turns in their route.
True to the Major's word, they arrived in less than 10 minutes at a metal hatch whose rusted wheel handle made it nearly impossible to open. After Griffin-1 had finished taking his turn at it, the Staff ushered Rico forward. The Demolitionist gave a maniacal cackle as he removed several strips of a material from his rucksack. Their metallic appearance betrayed no hint of the malleability and elasticity they actually possessed, features which Rico put to good use in stretching them along the hatch's seams, adhering them like tape. Once the last one was overlaied atop the others, he slipped a wire connected to a trigger into them and took a few steps back.
"It's quiet, right?" The Staff asked.
Rico depolarized his visor to grin back. "It's condensed C-12, no worries, you won't hear a thing."
"Isn't C-12 illegal?"
"Well, I don't tell you guys everything about me, do I?" He pulled the trigger.
There was a muted flash of light along the strips and a single, muffled thump that resounded from the otherwise whisper quiet explosions. Then the smoking hatch fell forward.
Rico quickly grabbed it. With some help from Hector they hoisted it off to the side.
The two squads continued on into a circular tunnelway and stopped at a grated barrier 10 meters further down. On the other side of the grating was a wide, cylindrical chamber. Streams of water poured in endlessly from multiple outlets located in the upper sections of the chamber, splashing down into the massive pool at the very bottom. A quartet of grated platforms stood above the roughly undulating surface, each encircling four hydrostatic pumps, prod-like mechanisms that connected to pipes leading up to a distant ceiling. The pumps shifted into and out of the water via attached devices beneath the surface, moving almost autonomously from the others in their bundles. Their repetitive plunging movements stirred the water around them in the fashion of a turbulent sea.
"This is it." Asana said. "Griffin-4, torch it."
The ODSTs made way for Griffin-4. Whipping out his blowtorch he seared his way through the metal bars until the entire grating was cut loose enough to be pulled aside.
They leaped out a trooper at a time onto one of the catwalks that connected the four platforms, granting them a better perspective of the chamber. It was a vertical space with three segmented staircases that spiraled along its height, providing access to each level before stopping at the 10th floor.
With the immediate area clear, they started along the nearest staircase. They deactivated their VISRS thanks to the wall lights that kept everything well lit.
A few of the floors they passed had open doors leading to ransacked office areas. Others had lounges with glass window views of the outside cityscape, confirming they were finally above ground.
"Looks like the emergency generators are hanging in there." Asana noted. "If I'd known it was going to be this easy...makes you wonder why the Covies didn't bother having better security down here."
"To give us a way in." The Staff said matter-of-factly as they crested the last staircase.
"You think our enemies are defeatists, Staff Sergeant?"
"I'd like to think that their superiority complex makes them forget we're still a real threat sometimes."
"I like that perspective. Let's hope it holds up."
They reached the door on the 10th floor. Captain Asana was the first through.
The upper floor was covered in lanes of padded chairs sitting in front of a quintet of clerk desks, signifying its purpose as a waiting area. A quick look from left to right revealed that the room rounded the topmost section of the water system distribution chamber they had just left. They dispersed with weapons raised, scanning for targets.
None made themselves apparent. Moreover, the glass windows paneling the exterior walls gave an even better view of the surrounding city than the lounges below. To no one's surprise the urban cityscape was still mostly dark with only the evening light of the setting sun offering any resistance against their blackened interiors. There were also several newer Covenant structures jutting out from the landscape, the same steeples that Zack had so assumedly identified as Grunt breeding chambers. It wasn't a far-off idea, just a disturbing one.
Duncan preferred not to think about the notion that the Covenant were invading the planet just to setup sex chambers and instead focused on clearing the room.
After a quick sweep by the squads around both bends of the waiting area they regrouped at another set of staircases. As they ascended the steps, Duncan thought he heard the rurring sound of wind coming from somewhere above and outside the stairwell. What made him realize it couldn't be that was because wind had a habit of going strong before slowly dying down, not skipping in and out like a fluctuating jet engine. What made him realize that he wasn't just hearing things was when the others stopped to look around as well.
"You hear that?" Asana asked.
"Sounds like company." The Staff said and checked his rifle's ammo counter.
They began moving again, slower and more cautiously. They emerged through a set of double doors out into a wide balcony that extended around the circumference of the next room. Judging by the ovular boundaries and the eloquent marble sheen of the ground three floors below, it had to be a visitor's center. Five outspread booths with shelves of informational pamphlets and a number of alcoves baring diagrams of service reservoirs as well as the tower itself added credence to that summation.
But the ODSTs weren't the only visitors here. The moment they understood that they ducked down and fanned out across the opaque glass railings palisading the sides of the balcony.
Duncan felt a lump form in his throat as he peered over and spotted the first one. There was an Elite on one of the more elevated sections of the visitor's center. It wore an angular, silvery white armor, a polarized, cobalt visor that matched its elongated head and an inactive thruster pack whose carapace-like appearance distinguished its wearer as an Elite Ranger. The alien was striding casually across an upper deck with a plasma repeater clipped to its back.
A quick flash of his VISR mode singled out three more of them in a menacing red. There were four in total, three on the ground floor and one on an upper deck. That quickly changed when one chose to fly, causing its mechanism's two chemical based thrusters to extend outward and push it into the air similarly to a rising rocket. The sound of rushing wind that the device emitted made it clear where that earlier noise had come from. Its user landed on the upper deck to chat with the other white-armored Ranger.
Yet the thruster pack wasn't the main source of commotion in the room. Duncan diverted his attention to a point where a burst of azure light regularly flashed out from somewhere on the bottom floor, reminding him of a rhythmic heartbeat thanks to the eerie blipping noise that ran in tandem. He traced the bursts of light to an alcove on the opposite side of the center. There he spotted their target: The Covenant Communications Jammer.
The CCJ looked just like Garrison's portrayal: a clawless crab with three tubes jutting out of its head. Still, that idea did well to cut out all the technological enhancements and shimmering blue lights that made the machine what it was. It had to be nearly four times the size of a person, or more. Duncan's attention was drawn to its main control display at the front. He would need to reach it in order to get the job done that they came to do.
"Rangers, four of them, two with Plasma repeaters on upper deck to our left, two more on the ground floor near the middle, one with a repeater and the last with a concussion rifle. CCJ is located in alcove on the far end. I recommend we spread out and match targets."
Duncan winced, not just at the Staff's swift situational analysis but at the fact that one of these Elites had a concussion rifle. Rangers were already a rare sight outside of aerial and Zero-G environments, but whenever they were encountered, they were known to raise several kinds of hell, even for Helljumpers. Their maneuverability was the main source of their troublesome nature since it made them harder to hit when they started hopping from place to place. However, Duncan figured they had brought the right amount of troopers needed to take on this many Rangers. They just had to pull it off the first time around or things would really go to hell, mainly with that concussion rifle.
"Lets make it quick and clean." Asana said. "Griffin, hook left. Epsilon hook right. We'll handle those two on the deck."
"Copy."
There was no hint of fear or hesitation in the voices of the two leaders as they split their squads off along different sides of the balcony. They stayed crouched to avoid being seen, mostly because the last thing they needed was for one lucky Ranger to fly high enough to notice them.
Once they were in place they rose up along the railings and began picking targets. Four or five individual targeting reticles were centered on each Ranger. The aliens kept about their business, completely unaware of the 18 guns tracking their every movement from above.
Captain Asana did them the honors. "On my go. Three…two…put'em down!"
All 18 troopers opened up in a unanimous salvo of silenced gunfire.
In the first 400 milliseconds the energy shields of the four Rangers had popped under the fire. Near the 1 second mark, the two on the upper deck danced under the rain of ballistics, the first collapsing like a rock while the second swung back, firing off stray shots as it slumped to the ground.
The same happened for the third Ranger on the ground floor who, after being torn through like swiss cheese by Epsilon's barrage was forced to spiral to the ground after one of Deaks' sniper rounds flashed through its visor and came out through its chin.
But the last Ranger managed to react much faster than its now dead comrades, leaping into one of the alcoves the moment its shields collapsed. It slipped around a decorative column and came out where no one was aiming. In a blink it was soaring into the air, heading straight for Epsilon.
Duncan went wide-eyed when he realized too late that it was the same Elite with the concussion rifle.
It got off two shots before Deaks zipped a final high caliber round through its unprotected visor.
The first searing comet of blueish-pink plasma energy overshot its target and hit the ceiling. The second was more accurate, striking the railings just in front of Zack. The concussive blast shattered the glass and sent him flying back.
Duncan watched him sail three meters through the air and crash back-first against one of the external windows, cracking its surface before tumbling to the ground in a heap.
"Zack!" Nova cried out.
The squad rushed to his side. He was thankfully still moving but noticeably slower. As Hector propped his back against the wall, he took off his helmet for him. The trooper looked dazed, his eyes shifting from place to place probably trying to understand why the room was spinning around him. "Well that sucked."
"You better be grateful you're still alive, kid." The Staff warned with a shade of concern in his mostly calm voice. "A direct hit would've killed you outright."
Zack cracked his neck. "It almost did. I managed to turn a bit at the last second so the radio caught the brunt of it." He reached for his equipment and fangled around with its functions. "I'd be more worried about this thing than me honestly."
"I wouldn't be so sure." Renni said, pointing to his ears. Small spurts of blood bubbled from the canals and were trickling down the sides of his face. "How's your hearing?"
"There's…ringing, lots of ringing. I can still hear you but…"
Renni turned to the Staff. "He's probably got burst eardrums. I can use my biofoam to regenerate the tissue. His hearing should be back to normal in about an hour."
The Staff nodded. "Do what you can for him. The rest of you, on me."
The squad left Renni to tend to the semi-sober radioman while they descended a flight of stairs to the ground floor. Squad Griffin was already there, checking on the dead Elites and policing their fallen weapons, placing them off to the side in case they were needed later.
"How's your radioman?" Captain Asana asked as he pulled the concussion rifle free from the cold dead claws of the last Elite, its corpse having fallen atop one of the info booths.
"He'll be a little deaf for a while but he's stable."
"Got it." Asana handed the gun over to one of his troopers.
"Ep-8." The Staff pointed to Duncan then to the Jammer. "Get on it. I want you to get used to that machine ahead of schedule so we don't run into any problems later."
Duncan snapped off a salute and jogged over to the machine, wincing every so often when the jammer emitted the flash of blue light that partially distorted his HUD. He eyed the alien calligraphy on the frontal control display, touched a half cresent-shaped symbol so that his smartlink could establish contact with the system then got to work.
"Looks like this was a success." Asana observed. "Now that you've got your Jammer, we need to reach our Colonel."
The Staff's answer came after a brief hesitation as he looked around the room. He sighed. "Alright, but I can only spare you one."
Asana's visor depolarized, showing his furrowed brow. "Not a fireteam or a binary?"
"Reaching this place has made me realize how much troopers I'll need to guard it, and the lower levels outside the pumping chamber aren't even secured as yet. I'll have to send my people around to check things out. But Colonel Taylors, if he's still out there, won't have time for us to wait and clear things out before we come for him, like you said. I can spare you one right now. If you want more, you'll have to wait till we clear everything out here. We might have killed these Rangers quickly but who knows if that last one managed to make a quick call for help or if anything nearby heard those shots."
Captain Asana's gaze flitted between the ODSTs of Epsilon meandering about the room. He gave a heartfelt exhale. "Alright Staff, you got me. Which one?"
The Staff spotted Deaks trying to remove the helmet from one of the corpses on the upper deck. "Ep-3, get over here!"
Once he heard his name, the corporal unenthusiastically dropped the dead body and jogged over to his side. The Staff slapped him on the shoulder. "Corporal Deaks here is the best shot in Bravo. He'll provide you with the overwatch support you'll need while you search for Taylors."
Asana sized him up and nodded at length, seeming pleased. "Sounds good. We lost our sniper this morning so we'll take what overwatch we can get our hands on."
The corporal, lacking the amount of authority it would require to contest the decision, remained quiet.
"Alright, follow me corporal. Griffin saddle up at those doors. We're heading out." The other ODST squad gathered together at the doors on the opposite end of the room. The Captain looked back to give the Staff a two-fingered salute. "We'll be back."
Then he left, and his troopers followed him out. Deaks stayed put at the threshold for a moment, looking expectantly at his squad leader.
"Don't worry, we'll save the bodies for when you get back." The Staff assured.
Taking the assurance, Deaks gave him the thumbs up and went out after Griffin.
"Alright, listen up. While Ep-8's on Jammer duty and Ep-10 deals with Ep-7, we're going to setup a perimeter. I want this place air-tight to make sure nothing gets in or out that isn't human. Ep-4, stay here and lock down the room. Everyone else, on me, we're going to secure the rest of this building."
The ODSTs flashed their acknowledgement lights and sprung to their orders.
Dispersione – Dispersion