Dust and Echoes (RWBY/Halo)
Chapter 24: The Cartographer
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When the initial shockwaves from the human bombs struck him, it took all of Ir 'Haramai's strength to remain on his feet. He was brought to his knees and he was forced to dig his hands into the rock and dirt to anchor himself, but for the most part he was able to remain where he was. It helped that he wasn't directly near the explosions. Others were not so fortunate or lacked the strength to resist, being blown off their feet and sent flying back a considerable distance. Those who had the misfortune of being directly caught in the bombs' blasts, however, were simply blown apart, leaving only charred remains and blood splatter where they previously stood. Others simply ceased to exist. It didn't matter if they had energy shields or not, the result was the same. Even Ir doubted that he, with his Zealot-grade energy shielding and combat harness, could've withstood such a blow.
But, despite rooting himself, Ir was unable to resist the force of the second barrage from the humans. The ground was lifted up from under him and he was thrown back, sent tumbling head over foot down the quarry before landing in the small river that cut through it. He instinctually covered his head with his hands while keeping himself as low to the ground as possible. Part of him knew this could be seen as cowardly, but in his years of experience with fighting the humans and their artillery, he knew this was the best possible chance of survival in this moment.
His shields flared and threatened to break as the unrelenting assault sent waves of heat and shards of shrapnel everywhere. He felt something thick and wet splash across his face and arms, and although he couldn't see what color it was he knew it was blood. Terrified screams of Unggoy, Kig-Yar, and a few Sangheili were drowned out by the constant explosions. His ears were ringing, and it felt as though the barrage was never going to end, that he'd be trapped in this cacophonous hell for the rest of time.
Then he heard a faint chime, followed by the explosions suddenly growing muffled and distant. Ir tentatively raised his head and lowered his arms, and to his relief he saw that the Citadel's energy shield, which previously had just protected the main structure, was now expanded over the entire quarry. He could see the human artillery and missiles exploding harmlessly against the light-blue sheen that protected him and his forces from harm.
"Blessed are the Gods for their divine instruments," Ir offered a quick prayer in thanks. He knew that the shield wouldn't last forever. Even now he could see the blue tint of the shield slowly increasing in brightness as the citadel's shield generators worked on overdrive to stay intact. But it would suffice for now.
Pushing himself to his feet, Ir glanced at the blood staining his arms. He saw that it was a neon blue, and while he couldn't see a body near him that's all he needed to determine that it came from an Unggoy. Deciding that it wasn't an important detail, he looked around the quarry to take stock of the damage. The citadel itself was completely unharmed, protected from the initial barrage by its energy shield. But the same could not be said for the vehicles and defenses that had been outside for maintenance. Most were completely destroyed, nothing more than smoldering wrecks that sent hot, blue smoke into the sky. Their Scarab was completely tilted over on its side, its front cannon blown off as spires of shattered rock and ice surrounded it like arrows pinned to a corpse.
"How did they…?" he couldn't help but ask himself.
Ir had fought the humans since the beginning, and had witnessed many of their weapons. Some were quite creative but, compared to the splendor of the Forerunner-derived creations of the Covenant, were crude and primitive. But this was unlike any weapon the humans had thrown against them before. It was as though they weaponized nature itself for a split moment, to devastating effect. It reminded him of something else, something that not even the Covenant could quite understand, but that was impossible. There was no way the humans could have gained access to the elemental crystals, so he pushed that thought aside.
Instead, he focused on how the humans were able to inflict such damage in the first place, and it made his blood boil.
"Blademaster!" he heard someone call out to him, and Ir turned his attention towards one of his Zealots rushing towards him, plasma rifle in hand. It took Ir a moment to recognize him, as his ornate maroon armor was covered in mud, blood, and grime, but soon he realized that it was Rteda 'Vasovee.
"Thank the Gods you are unharmed," Rteda said as he approached him, and Ir nodded before turning away to look at the rest of the camp and the survivors. Rteda then answered the unasked question, "The Yanme'e were able to expand the citadel's shields. It's holding, for now."
"Indeed," Ir replied, his steely eyes darting from location to location. To his relief, he saw the Cartographer was unharmed, even as the surrounding rock showed notable damage. Clicking his mandibles together in agitation, he muttered, "Have the humans no restraint? They could've damaged the Cartographer, however unlikely."
Shaking his head, Ir then turned back towards Rteda and requested, "Damage report."
"Our forces inside the Cartographer and the citadel were unharmed," Rteda reported, "but those outside of those shelters weren't so lucky. We've suffered tremendous casualties."
"What of our exterior defenses?" Ir said as he began to move towards the citadel, not bothering to help any of the wounded on his path. Rteda briefly paused to help a Sangheili Minor to his feet, but a quick glare sent his way from Ir made him stop and rush over to rejoin his commander.
"Significant damage," Rteda confirmed, prompting Ir to clench his fist angrily. "Our engineers are already working on repairs, but much of it is lost."
Ir growled as he came across the remains of a shade turret, the top completely blown off and only leaving behind the stand. He glared at it for a few more moments before glancing up at the overhead shield, which was still holding back the human artillery. Lacking any true means to take down their shields, the humans were clearly forced to fall back on brute force. A crude and inefficient strategy, but not one that didn't have its merits.
More important than the human strategy, though, was what it meant in conjunction with everything else that had just transpired in the past few minutes. The humans, through some unknown means, managed to find where they were and what they were doing without the Covenant even noticing. Unlike any other battle he'd been in, the humans had the initiative, and they were taking full advantage of it.
"How did they find us?" Ir growled, and Rteda clicked his mandibles together.
"We didn't it realize it at the time, but we now believe that the humans came across one of our Unggoy patrols that didn't report in a few hours ago," Rteda revealed. "They were most likely taken prisoner for interrogation."
"Blasted Unggoy and their cowardness!" Ir snarled, then pointed his finger into his subordinate's chest. "I want that patrol's overseer executed for incompetence now!"
"Major 'Vrasovee perished in the initial barrage, Blademaster."
"Grrgh, at least one good thing came out of this…" Ir grumbled, thankful for small blessings.
His mind then went back to analyzing the entire situation. Their operation was now under heavy human attack by a force that greatly outnumbered his own. Much of his forces were either wounded or dead, and his defensive line was nearly broken. It didn't matter if human technology was vastly inferior to their own, or if a single Sangheili warrior was worth ten humans. Their position was growing more and more untenable with each passing moment.
"Was the distress signal sent out?" Ir asked, and Rteda nodded.
"Yes, Blademaster, but reinforcements are several hours out and the humans are throttling our outgoing communications," he confirmed, and Ir bit back a curse. He then shook his head, clicked his mandibles together, and came to a decision. One that he already deeply regretted, but he also saw it as the only option.
Ir narrowed his eyes and stood up straight, then tapped into the local proselytization network so that he could communicate with all of his forces at once. He announced, "Brothers, take heed! The humans are on their way as we speak, and we have already suffered the first of their blows. They seek to claim the Cartographer as their own, but we will not let them! All reserves are to immediately take defensive positions. I want our remaining vehicles to begin raining holy fire onto the heretics. Any wounded still able to fight are to be patched up for combat immediately. If they are unable to, let them die with honor. Hold the humans off long enough for reinforcements to arrive."
"Yes, Blademaster!" his forces replied all in unison, and he smiled proudly at their coming sacrifice.
He then turned back towards Rteda and said, "You and the other Zealots are to focus your attention on the Cartographer. I want all spare citadel power not being used to keep up the shields to focus on extracting its data. As soon as it is downloaded into a memory block, put down the Huragok then load the recovered knowledge onto a Phantom for extraction, with us as its escort."
"We're retreating from the Cartographer?" Rteda asked in surprise, and Ir regretfully nodded.
"It shames me to leave this holy place at the mercy of the humans for even a moment but, as much as it pains me to admit it, the quarry is lost. The humans will overwhelm us. It is only a matter of time."
"But…what about the others?"
"They will die defending this hallowed ground. I only wish I could share in the honor," Ir admitted. "With any luck, we'll be able to hold the humans off long enough for reinforcements to arrive, making all of this moot, but we cannot count on that. Our primary concern is to extract the data. The momentary loss of a Cartographer, while lamentable, is nothing compared to losing its guidance entirely."
"I…" Rteda began to say, but stopped himself and nodded. "Of course, Blademaster."
Nodding at his subordinate, Ir gently clasped Rteda's shoulder and said, "I know losing the Cartographer to the humans troubles you, justifiably so. It troubles me as well. But have faith in the Gods. They will not let the humans sully their creations for long. Soon more of our brothers will arrive to cast them out, and the humans' victory will be fleeting."
Rteda nodded while remaining silent. He then saluted the Blademaster by pressing his fist to his chest, and ran off to grab the other Zealots. Much to Ir's relief, most of their number were unharmed, with only one getting seriously wounded. His leg had been blown off below the knee, making him unsuitable for combat. But the Zealot knew this, and had already killed himself with his own energy sword through the heart. An honorable death, in Ir's opinion.
He then opened a private channel on the proselytization network to their legion's Special Operations group and said, "Commander 'Turalumee, I have an urgent mission for you and your men."
"Of course, Blademaster. What do you require of us?" Commander 'Turalumee immediately replied, and Ir clenched his fist around his inert energy sword hilt as hard as he could.
"Human interlopers managed to infiltrate our base and sabotage both our excavation and our defenses," Ir explained. "Find them and bring me their heads."
"Yes, Blademaster. It will be done."
"See that you do," Ir said, then closed the channel.
His attention was drawn to the citadel as the base's teleporter activated. Scores of warriors who were previously housed inside its confines stormed out, joined by dozens of Wraiths, Banshees, and Locusts making their way towards the sound of battle. Ir couldn't help but smile at the sight, and as he activated his energy sword he thrust it high into the air and let out a guttural roar.
Sitting in the passenger seat of a Warthog, with Johnson behind the wheel and a marine manning the chaingun turret, Qrow tightly gripped the handle of his weapon, Harbinger. The rain which had started when this operation began had now turned into a torrential downpour, and without a roof to shield him he was taking the full brunt of the storm. Not that it deterred him, or really anyone else for that matter. Around him he could see hundreds of Warthogs, Mastodons, Razorbacks, Scorpions and more charging across the open savannah, kicking up clouds of dirt and grass in their wake. Overhead were flights of Hornets, Falcons, Longsword and Baselard fighters, along with Shortsword bombers making their way towards the Cartographer, firing their ordinance onto the Covenant defenses in order to soften them up. They were joined by Archer missiles being fired by UNSC naval vessels lending their direct fire support, who were also depositing their own marine contingents to assist in the operation.
It was a sight that Qrow had only ever seen through still pictures or silent black-and-white documentaries in his history classes back at Beacon. Complete and total open warfare between two standing armies, both determined to kill the other. Remnant hadn't seen such a thing since the Great War nearly 70 years prior and the Faunus Rights Revolution shortly afterward. Qrow had been in plenty of scuffles over the years, both against the Grimm and his fellow man. But he had to admit that this was an environment he wasn't used to at all, and it made him nervous.
Dare's voice then cut into his thoughts as she spoke over their private TEAMCOM channel, saying, "Alright, let's go over the plan one last time while we still have the chance."
"Is that truly necessary, Lieutenant? We've already gone over it several times by now," Sepia asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice.
"Given how four of your fellow Huntsmen decided to take it upon themselves to infiltrate a Covenant stronghold without notifying us beforehand, thus requiring us to take part in this operation to save them, yes. It is necessary," Dare countered, and both Qrow and Johnson couldn't help but snort at the obvious irritation in her tone of voice.
Granted, she did have a point given what Robyn and her team did, not that Qrow didn't completely understand Robyn's reasons. But seeing or hearing the straight-laced and uptight ONI agent get frustrated reminded Qrow of messing with Atlesian specialists, a favorite pastime of his whenever he visited the frozen northernmost kingdom. That always brought a smile to his face. He quickly glanced behind his shoulder to one of the Warthogs following them, where he saw Dare, wearing her Recon ODST BDU, doing a last minute check of her MA5K carbine.
"Don't worry, Lieutenant. We understand," Vine responded, speaking from his seat in a Razorback which housed the rest of the Ace-Ops.
Qrow watched as Dare glanced towards their vehicle, then she explained, "Our objective is simple. While the First Army takes the Cartographer and eliminates local Covenant resistance, with the Second and Third assisting with planetary evacuation, we will be focusing on locating and extracting Hill, Thyme, Marigold and Cornell. The Midsummer Night is currently on station and providing indirect fire support to both us and the Army but, as soon as we locate our missing team, Commander Keyes will send down a Pelican dropship for immediate extraction."
"What if the Covenant get in our way?" Sienna Khan asked, a hint of bloodlust leaking into her voice. It was clear that she remembered the fate of Vyraj vividly, and she wanted more than a little bit of payback. Qrow felt the same way as he tightened his grip on his weapon, and he was certain that all the other Huntsmen and Huntresses did as well.
"Then we eliminate them with prejudice and move on," Dare replied, and Qrow could see Sienna's grin widen.
"Good," Sienna said.
"Contain yourself, Khan. We're not here to kill the Covenant or take the Cartographer. Our only concern is extracting Hill and her team. Everything else is secondary."
"I see no reason why we can't do both."
"Not if it interferes with the mission. I was brought on board to make sure that the mission parameters were followed, and I intend to keep it that way."
As much as he would love to stick around and see this battle through to the end, and kill as many Covenant as possible, Qrow knew that Dare was right. It was far more important for them to get back to Remnant safe and sound, that way they could report their findings to the Kingdoms and prepare the planet to face the Covenant. The longer they stuck around, the greater the chance of at least one of them dying. Gods forbid if all of them perished under the UNSC's watch. That could threaten the integrity of this alliance before it even started, if not kill it outright. It would basically tell Remnant that the UNSC was unable to properly provide any security for Remnant against the Covenant, making any chances of an alliance being formed that much more difficult.
"What will happen to Robyn and the others when we find them?" Joanna tersely asked.
"That is a decision up to myself and the Commander," Dare replied, refusing to elaborate further.
To Qrow, that was as good of an admission as any. Even if Robyn's intentions were as pure as Joanna described them, and they weren't a part of the UNSC, she did inadvertently place the entire operation at risk. What's worse is that she and the rest of the Happy Huntresses were still classified as stowaways and were technically under arrest. Her little stunt could be seen as a gross violation of the agreement she made with Commander Keyes, taking his goodwill and practically spitting in his face. Qrow knew Robyn didn't intend that in the slightest, but that didn't remove the implication. She and the others were likely to be locked in the Midsummer Night's brig for the remainder of the mission, at best. Luckily, Qrow got the sense that Dare and Keyes weren't too mad at them, so hopefully Robyn and the others wouldn't be too severely punished.
"Assuming they're still alive," Gron pointed out, drawing a series of groans from the others. "What? I'm just saying what we're all thinking. They snuck into the middle of a Covenant base and planted Dust IEDs all over their shit. Blew it straight to Hell, judging by that lightshow we saw. That's gonna piss the Covenant off like nothing else, take it from me. If the Covenant finds them before we do, they're as good as dead. If they're lucky."
As much as Qrow hated to admit it, Gron was right. He may have only fought Covenant-aligned privateers on Khembalung, but that gave the veteran Huntsman a taste of what the Covenant could do and how powerful their weapons were. And those were just lightly armed pirates. These were trained and experienced Covenant soldiers, a whole different beast than what they fought before. Time was of the essence in this scenario, and the longer they took to find Robyn and the others, the more likely it was that all they'd find were their burnt corpses.
"Well then, guess we'll just have to find them first," Johnson spoke up, prompting Qrow to glance at the marine sergeant who had a smile on his face despite the situation they were in.
Qrow shrugged, then said, "You make it sound so easy."
"I've done worse rescue ops before," Johnson replied, and Qrow raised an eyebrow. Part of him wanted to refute that, but the rest was just happy to let the confident statement stand on its own.
But, even if he wanted to say something, he never got the chance as the marine on the turret suddenly yelled, "BANSHEES, FAST AND LOW!"
Shooting his attention to the front of the Warthog, Qrow watched as dozens of Covenant aircraft literally screamed through the air right towards them. They were unlike any aircraft he had seen before, with a deep purple color scheme, bulbous head, and a body that had two plasma cannons mounted underneath. On the sides were a pair of flimsy wings comprised of two thin arms that left a space between them, with each arm connecting to a pod at the end. At the back of the aircraft were two propulsion drives, leaving a blue trail behind them. The Banshees didn't look like they should be able to fly at all, yet they were diving through the air with surprising grace and agility that Qrow had never seen before.
Then the blue trails disappeared as the Banshees slowed down, and they immediately fired their plasma cannons into the human forces. White hot bolts of glowing blue plasma slammed into the Warthogs and their occupants, melting through the titanium armor as though it was never even there. Human bodies exploded into clouds of boiling blood and seared meat, with the Warthogs exploding and flipping over themselves as their hydrogen fuel cells ruptured. The plasma cannons were joined by explosive fuel rods being fired into clusters of human vehicles as bombs, particularly the Scorpion tanks who could only withstand a few direct hits before succumbing completely.
At once the orderly charge collapsed into pure pandemonium as the Warthogs broke off, trying to present less of a target for the Covenant. Johnson, gripping the steering wheel as tight as he could, shouted at the top of his lungs, "DAMMIT, MARCO! TAKE THOSE BASTARDS OUT!"
"ENGAGING!" the marine operating their Warthog's chaingun yelled back as he aimed his mounted weapon towards the nearest Banshee and opened fire.
The three barrels of the M41 Vulcan spun rapidly before spitting out an unending stream of lead. He was joined by the other Warthogs around them, the ones that were still operational, and the swarm of Banshees attacking them were forced to break off their run. Most of the .50 caliber bullets went wild, but some managed to strike the purple armor. After only a few seconds of sustained fire, the nanolaminate plating was pierced, and the first Banshee spiraled out of control and crashed hard into the savannah, kicking up clouds of dirt and grass before exploding in a ball of light-blue fire.
The initial chaos and confusion faded, and now the UNSC vehicles were retaliating in force. Missiles and chaingun fire shot through the air towards the Covenant aircraft, causing them to veer off and swerve away. Qrow couldn't help but feel somewhat unnerved at how fluid and agile the alien aircrafts' movements were. They were practically turning on a dime, flipping and corkscrewing to evade any attacks heading their way while continuing to fire their own weapons. The plasma cannons were unguided, and from what he could see the fuel rods only had limited tracking ability through some unknown mechanism. But at this range and with their power, it didn't really matter.
But Qrow didn't let himself focus on that. Instead, he leaned out of his seat and transformed Harbinger into its shotgun configuration, then aimed it one handed and fired towards the nearest aircraft. The Burn Dust-powered shells melted the Covenant armor, causing one of the wings to fall out. To his surprise, the Banshee was able to remaining airborne, but a quick missile barrage from an overhead Hornet quickly put it out of its misery.
As he reloaded his weapon, Qrow glanced up then shouted, "Johnson, we have more coming in from our right!"
"I see 'em!" Johnson shouted back, sharply swerving to the side in order to avoid a barrage of plasma fire. They got so close, Qrow could feel the intense heat washing over his face, but luckily there wasn't any direct contact.
Marco, still manning the chaingun, never stopped firing as he shifted from one target to another. It didn't matter if he downed one of the Banshees or not, he was just focused on keeping them at bay or, at the very least, damaging them enough to where someone else could put them down. Although Qrow couldn't see the young man's face behind his combat glasses and balaclava, he could imagine that it was warped into an expression of abject rage and bloodlust.
When Qrow managed to shoot down another Banshee with Harbinger, its wingman took notice and diverted its flightpath towards them. He prepared to jump out and engage directly while Marco swiftly aimed his turret towards the cockpit. But they never got a chance to do anything as a fishing line suddenly looped through the gap between the wing arms. Qrow shot his attention towards the back of the line, where he saw Clover standing up in his seat with his foot braced against the dashboard and Kingfisher extended. Holding it tightly in his hands, he pulled back as hard he could. The Banshee attempted to boost away at the same time, causing the taut line to swivel the aircraft like a diving kite straight into the ground at top speed. It exploded on impact, sending shards of shrapnel everywhere.
"Holy shit!" Marco cursed in astonishment as Clover reeled in his still intact line, and Qrow couldn't help but nod in the Ace Operative's direction.
"Nice catch," Qrow spoke into TEAMCOM, and Clover simply nodded and saluted back before returning his attention towards the battle around them.
From the back of their Razorback, Qrow watched as Elm fired rockets from Timber directly in the hulls of passing Banshees, with Vine snagging them with outstretched arms and either slamming them into the ground or each other. Harriet was no longer in the vehicle, instead running right beside it at full speed, crashing into the Ghosts which now joined their airborne brethren on the ground. They were working together in perfect unison, each of their styles and Semblances covering the others in ways that Qrow could've only imagined.
"Well, Jimmy, looks like your little idea worked out after all," Qrow muttered to himself, then finished reloading Harbinger and went back to firing it.
The open savannah was now filled with exchanging gunfire, with the Covenant's Banshees from above and the Ghosts on the ground firing their weapons into the human assault in a desperate attempt to halt their advance. But momentum was still on the UNSC's side, and while many were unfortunately cut down under the Covenant's plasma fire, the advance continued. Qrow watched as Scorpions fired their main cannons into passing Ghosts, with a few daring drivers firing at the Banshees and scoring direct hits. It didn't matter how durable Covenant armor was, a single hit from its 90mm cannon was enough to destroy them immediately. Bright blue contrails from Warthogs armed with M68B Gauss Cannons raced across the field, slamming into the armor with incredible force. They weren't nearly as powerful as the Scorpion, but they were able to follow up their shots much more quickly, and with the Warthog's added maneuverability they were making short work of both Ghosts and Banshees.
But the Covenant's air power was still unrelenting, only really being held back by the Warthogs armed with M79 rocket launchers and Wolverines armed with M260 launchers. Smoke followed the missiles as they locked on and automatically tracked the Banshees, and although they were maneuverable they didn't have much in the form of countermeasures like flares or even point-defense. When the missiles struck despite their attempts to evade, the Banshees would spiral out of control and crash into the field, where they were summarily ignored as the UNSC rolled right past them towards the Cartographer.
Still, despite their losses the Covenant kept coming, and Marco yelled out while firing his chaingun, "There's too many of them!"
"Just keep firing, we'll get there!" Johnson ordered, sharply maneuvering his Warthog to evade fire from an oncoming Ghost, while Qrow stretched out with the turn and swiped at the charging hovercraft with Harbinger in its sword configuration as it narrowly passed them. He sheared off most of the nearest fin stabilizer and left the Ghost to roll and plow into the dirt in their wake.
"This is a lot more than just a small security detail!" Qrow pointed out as he fired at a Banshee passing overhead, only managing to clip one of the wing pods.
"Guess our little Grunt friend was a tad bit misinformed!" Johnson responded, and Qrow bit back a curse.
That was the problem with Semblances that revealed if someone was telling the truth or not. It relied on what that person believed was the truth, not what was the objective truth of the entire situation. If someone was told one thing and had no reason to suspect that they had been misinformed, they'd say it's the truth because, from their limited perspective, it was. Just a year ago, one could've asked Qrow if aliens existed and he would've told them no. Obviously now he knows that would've been a lie, but a year ago he had no reason to believe otherwise so it would've been the truth.
"Dammit!" Qrow cursed again at their situation, then he heard a faint warbling sound that increased in volume and pitch.
"MORTARS!" Marco suddenly shouted, and Johnson had to swerve out of the way as a bright blue fireball slammed into the ground and exploded where they just were. An intense wave of heat washed over him, and the ground beneath the direct impact was turned to glass.
It was clear that Johnson recognized that munition immediately as he yelled, "We got Wraiths firing on our position!"
True to his word, the Covenant ground and air assault was joined by long-range artillery, with dozens of plasma mortars raining down from just outside the jungle surrounding the Cartographer site. Qrow could see the bulbous hovering tanks from here, and he scowled while clenching his fist tightly around Harbinger's hilt.
"We're sitting ducks out here!" Qrow yelled, extending Harbinger out into its scythe form with a series of clanks before briefly leaning out of the passenger seat to bisect another strafing Ghost with one broad sweep right through the whole vehicle, Grunt driver and all.
"Tell me something I don't know!" Johnson quipped back, swerving his Warthog to the side in order to run over a Grunt that had been thrown from his destroyed Ghost, splattering blue blood over the windshield that was wiped away under the rain and wind.
Qrow was about to sarcastically reply when he heard a rumbling coming from under the ground. To his shock, he watched as large, inconspicuous dirt piles that had previously been ignored suddenly began to shake and tremble. After a few moments, they exploded as a large, buzzing cloud erupted from them. It took him a second to realize what he was seeing, but soon he recognized the dull green, insectoid exoskeletons and small, transparent wings that were somehow able to support their weight in the air.
"Well, we're driving over a Drone hive," Qrow flatly revealed, prompting Johnson to curse.
Marco immediately engaged the new and immediate threat, his chaingun tearing through the Drones' exoskeletons like wet tissue paper. Whiteish-green blood splattered through the air and ground, practically matching the rain as it fell. But there was so many, and for every Drone that was cut down under the volley of gunfire at least two more took its place. That number rose exponentially, and soon the air was filled with hundreds of the insects, who began firing their plasma pistols onto the human forces with surprising precision. A few even climbed directly onto passing Warthogs, either tearing into the vehicle itself or engaging the human occupants who found it difficult to shake them off.
Fortunately, Qrow didn't find it too difficult to cut down the Drones that made the mistake of engaging his Warthog. He fired Harbinger into any that approached, and for those who managed to actually land they were cut down by the blur of his sword. Johnson even joined in on the point defense, firing his M6D magnum while continuing to drive, and Marco continued to fire his chaingun into the swarm.
But then the marine let out a bloodcurdling scream as a lucky plasma bolt managed to hit his right shoulder. He instinctively let go from the pain, breaking his attention and gunfire for a few precious seconds. It was all the Drones needed to swarm him, and Qrow could only watch in horror as a fully grown and fully armed human male was forcibly dragged and lifted by a Drone into the air.
"MARCO!" Qrow yelled, taking Johnson's offered magnum and immediately firing at the Drones in a desperate attempt to free the struggling man.
Marco, fighting through his pain, was kicking, punching and screaming at his captors, trying his best to free himself as well. He even pulled out his knife and began stabbing it into the Drone's abdomen. But it was no use, for even as he and Qrow managed to kill the first Drone he was immediately picked back up by a new pair, one grabbing his arms and the other his legs. They violently pulled in opposite directions in a manner horribly reminiscent of a pair of Ravagers to the Huntsman's eyes, and Qrow could hear a faint scream of agony before it was cut off by a wet rip. Soon both halves of the ruptured marine fell lifelessly to the ground and the Drones immediately moved on to new, fresh targets.
"DAMMIT!" Johnson shouted in frustration, then pointed with his thumb towards the now empty chaingun. "Branwen, get on that gun, now!"
Not needing to be told twice, Qrow stowed away Harbinger behind his back then climbed over the Warthog to the mounted turret. Placing himself behind the armor plate, and using his legs and feet to manipulate the angle, he began firing the chaingun into the Drone swarm. From his new vantage point, he could see that the growing throng was attacking everything in sight, ignoring their considerable losses in favor of pushing the attack.
But Qrow couldn't focus on that for long, instead keeping his attention squarely on the Covenant forces directly attacking him. He never stayed on one target for too long, switching to a new one as soon as it presented itself. Johnson, meanwhile, continued to expertly drive the Warthog around, or sometimes over when the opportunity presented itself, the Covenant forces, his steely expression betraying none of the confidence he previously exuded. Luckily, Qrow could see that despite the UNSC's considerable losses, the assault was still progressing, if now at a much slower pace, and more importantly none of the vehicles ferrying the Huntsmen and Huntresses were destroyed.
Knowing his luck, though, that wouldn't last forever. They needed to get out of this now, otherwise they were as good as dead. As stray plasma pistol bolts struck the hood of their Warthog, causing smoke and steam to rise from its chassis, Qrow struggled to find somewhere they could take shelter in. He soon spotted the approach of what appeared to be a trench network, with Elites, Jackals, and Grunts running around inside of them and manning plasma turrets. Drones were flying out of openings into their underground hive, but it was considerably less than what they were experiencing in the open field. More importantly, the trench offered a great deal of protection from the Covenant, and an idea began to form in his head.
Pointing towards it, Qrow yelled, "We need to take the trench!"
Catching on to Qrow's meaning almost immediately, Johnson turned his Warthog to the side in order to charge straight towards the Covenant defenses. It took a few moments for the Covenant to realize what they were doing, but soon they were engaged by plasma fire both from mounted turrets and handheld small arms fire. While each bolt boiled away more and more of the Warthog's titanium armor, they did little to deter their advance, particularly as more Warthogs ferrying both marines, soldiers, and Huntsmen joined them. Qrow, meanwhile, fired his chaingun into the Covenant, and while the bullets were absorbed or deflected somewhat by the Elites' shields, they were soon cut down if they let themselves stay open for too long. The Grunts and Jackals were turned into chunky salsa almost immediately, spraying the trench with their blood.
"Brace!" Johnson screamed as one of their tires popped from a plasma bolt.
Qrow didn't bother with that, tensing his legs and reaching forward to seize Johnson under the armpit before the marine could hold himself firm to the steering wheel and dashboard. Then the Huntsman bailed them both out with a leap as, at nearly top speed, the Warthog crashed through the top layer of the trench, falling into the lower level and splattering any Covenant unfortunate enough to be in its way under its hood. Mud and sparks from the metal walkway lining the bottom of the trench flew up, along with shattered glass from the Warthog's windshield.
A Jackal was left staring at the gore smeared wreckage that had landed on the Grunt next to it. But before he could count his blessings as it ground to a halt, the wet flapping of a cape heralded Qrow's boots using him and his relatively brittle bones as an impromptu landing pad. The only reaction Sergeant Johnson afforded this was raising his eyebrows in Qrow's direction as he was set on his feet from where he'd been tucked under the Huntsman's arm, and all Hell broke loose as the Covenant soldiers inside the trench immediately began to engage.
Qrow charged to intercept the Covenant on one side of the trench, while Johnson sprang for the Warthog cab. He grabbed his M45 shotgun that he had stowed between the driver and passenger seats and rolled back out onto the trench floor. It came not a moment too soon, as the Warthog was immediately pelted by a barrage of plasma fire. The Warthog's chassis was melted into molten slag under the weight of bright blue and neon green bolts, and soon the engine block began to catch fire. Johnson forced himself back onto his feet and sprang away, allowing him to avoid the ensuing explosion as the Warthog's hydrogen fuel cell violently ruptured.
The shockwave made him stumble a bit, but he was able to maintain his footing. As he did, a trio of Grunts rounded a corner, plasma pistols in hand. He didn't give them a chance to shoot as he fired an eight-gauge shell, the pellets tearing through their orange armor and splattering their bright blue blood over the trench walls.
"Branwen, you good?!" Johnson yelled out as he loaded a shell and began sweeping the trench. When he spotted a pair of Jackals wielding shield gauntlets making their way towards him, he swapped out his shotgun for his magnum and expertly fired through the gaps into their hands. The Jackals instinctively recoiled, exposing their heads long enough for quick follow-up shots to take them out.
Branwen's answer came in the form of multiple shotgun blasts followed by alien screams. A moment later, Branwen yelled out, "I'm fine! You?!"
"Just peachy!" Johnson replied, throwing a frag grenade into a cluster of Covenant soldiers.
The Grunts were turned into chunky salsa, but their Elite Minor commander was able to survive thanks to his shield, merely staggering for a second before returning fire with his plasma rifle. Johnson was forced to dive to the ground, where he immediately unloaded his shotgun into the Elite's chest. This time the shield, which was already dangerously flickering, broke completely, and a second shell punctured the armor and chest. As the Elite fell lifelessly to the ground, purple blood flowing from his open chest, Johnson got up, loaded new shells into the upper magazine tube, and pressed forward.
"Form up on me!" Johnson ordered, the stock of his shotgun pressed firmly against his shoulder.
As his shotgun idly swayed, the reticle on his combat glasses' built-in and yellow-tinted HUD moved with it. His motion tracker pulsed every few seconds, showing bright red dots for Covenant troops and a green dot for Branwen. It brought Johnson no small amount of satisfaction to see scores of red dots blink out of existence as Branwen's dot moved through them.
But he couldn't focus on that. Instead, Johnson kept his body pressed to the trench wall, both to have at least some cover and keep his profile as small as possible. It seemed that the Covenant recognized the Huntsman as the bigger target, as more were heading in Branwen's direction than towards him. Any Covenant soldier unlucky enough to cross paths with Johnson were quickly put down with either a few shots from his magnum or shotgun, along with a few grenades to flush out any Covenant behind cover or clustered in small groups.
Eventually, Johnson reunited with Branwen, who made his entrance by cutting a pair of Elite Minors in half with his sword. Harbinger's blade was absolutely drenched in alien blood, a mishmash of blue, purple, white and more. Overhead, they could hear the buzzing of Drones and screaming of Banshees engaging troops on the ground, and the unmistakable warbling of plasma mortars raining down on the battlefield. Luckily it didn't appear that the Wraiths knew there were humans in the trench. Either that or they didn't want to risk killing their own men. Whatever the case, none were currently being fired in their direction, and Johnson hoped to keep it that way.
"You look like you had a fun time," Johnson quipped, and Branwen shrugged as he wiped off some blood from his face.
"Something like that," the Huntsman said, then he instinctively ducked and pulled Johnson down with him as a trio of bright-green projectiles shot through the air right where their heads were just a moment before.
"Carbines! Get down!" Johnson yelled, throwing himself behind a trench wall, with Qrow doing the same on the other side of the gap.
Peeking around the corner, Johnson could see an Elite Major firing his carbine at their location, with a team of Grunts carrying a plasma turret into position. As soon as it was mounted, a Grunt Heavy, wearing bright green armor, took position at its back and began firing. An unending barrage of blue plasma bolts filled the trench, vaporizing all of the rainwater in its path and preventing Johnson or Branwen from so much as moving.
"Well, this is just perfect!" Branwen yelled as he loaded fresh shells into his shotgun. As he did, he grabbed a few and tossed them through the gap to Johnson and added, "Burn Dust shells."
"Much obliged," Johnson thanked the man as he quickly pumped his shotgun several times to expend the normal shells, then loaded the Dust rounds in their place. He had seen what Dust-powered shells were able to do to Covenant armor, and he was eager to put them to the test against Covenant troops. But he wouldn't be able to at this range, nor under this amount of fire.
As he tried to figure out a way through this, he heard several Grunts bark in surprise, followed by intense gunfire. The plasma volley ceased, allowing Johnson to look and see what was going on. To his relief, he saw that they had been joined by another squad of marines led by Lieutenant Dare, accompanied by the rest of the Huntsmen Delegation.
Joanna Greenleaf was with the Ace-Ops, alternating between swinging her crossbow staff into Covenant soldiers and firing Dust-tipped bolts into their midst. Bodies were frozen or set alight, sending the Covenant troops into a panic. To Johnson's surprise, he saw Elite shields buckle quickly under the effects of Lightning Dust, allowing the marines accompanying her to cut them down. He filed that information away for later as he and Branwen joined their allies, attacking any Covenant soldier that got in their way.
The Ace-Ops, as expected, were working together in perfect unison. Elm Ederne was slamming Timber in its hammer mode into the center of Covenant lances, flattening anyone unfortunate enough to be directly hit and scattering the rest with the resulting shockwave. Johnson couldn't even see Harriet Bree as she sped through the battlefield, throwing dozens of punches into the heads of Covenant soldiers with Fast Knuckles or simply slamming them straight into a wall, breaking their necks or skulls on impact. Clover Ebi was directing his teammates from the front, snagging or tripping up the Covenant leadership and allowing either marines or Vine, throwing his chakrams, to put them down.
But it wasn't just the Atlesians doing all the work. Sepia Honeycreep was practically a blur, slicing and stabbing his needle-thin rapier into the exposed necks and eyes of the Covenant soldiers. The Elite Major attempted to beat him back by his using his carbine as a club, but Sepia expertly bobbed and weaved through the melee to systematically whittle his shield down with a few precise strikes. Once the shield was gone, he stabbed its point up and through the Elite's neck where the jugular should be, and when the blade was extracted a spray of blood shot out in its wake. The panicked Elite pressed his hand against the gaping wound in a desperate attempt to stem the bleeding, but after a few seconds he collapsed into a lifeless heap. When a Grunt panicked and attempted to flee, Sepia absentmindedly fired the revolver portion of his weapon into his back, puncturing the methane tank and causing it to explode, taking out a few Jackals along with its wearer.
Casper Marine, meanwhile, was cleaving her way through the Covenant lines. Each blow of her sword sent limbs and blood flying in all directions. Her powerful kicks sent Grunts and Jackals tumbling down the trench, their bones cracking under the blows. When a new Covenant lance arrived, she immediately gave them a savage grin before leaping right into their midst, swinging her blade in a manner which was seemingly reckless but was actually executed with expert control. In a matter of seconds, the entire lance laid dead at her feet, their blood partially flooding the trench floor.
Like Clover, Sienna Khan was leading her White Fang from the front, spearing the chain-linked rope dart she named Cerberus Whip into the hearts of any Grunt, Jackal or Elite that got in her way. A few Drones that noticed their presence had attempted to come down and engage, but they were immediately lashed out of the air by her for their trouble. She had a manic, bloodthirsty grin on her face, and it was easy to tell that she was enjoying herself and letting out some much needed aggression as she ruthlessly finished off the few Covenant who were left maimed or wounded in the wake of the others.
Abby Redwall and Yuri Grammy were working together as a pair, with Abby slicing her aura-encased sword right through even the most powerful energy shield put in her way. Yuri, meanwhile, was keeping his attention on the sky, firing his bolt-action sniper rifle into the Drones, popping any that appeared like clay pigeons. His eyes were constantly flickering blue as he dodged any oncoming fire before it even came in his direction. If, by some chance, a Covenant soldier was able to get close, Abby was there to protect him.
That being said, when a smoking Banshee came careening out of control in Abby's direction, Yuri yanked her and a marine back by the scruffs of her necks, thus preventing them from getting splattered by the crashing aircraft. While the marine was too stunned to say anything, Abby quickly thanked her teammate, then went back to engaging the enemy.
Gron, however, was serving as the frontline all by himself, his body highlighted by a golden sheen that covered all but a small part of his lower back. A wicked smile was on his face as the Covenant's plasma guns impacted directly against his still-covered scales. But to their and Johnson's shock, the plasma bolts did absolutely nothing to his somehow impenetrable Aura, causing Gron to simply laugh as he calmly walked forward. When he got close enough, he began savagely cleaving his sword through their chests, heads, and necks, his laughter never once ceasing.
"By God…" Johnson couldn't help but mutter, and he saw Dare nod in agreement as she came up to him.
"I've been telling myself that ever since this battle started," Dare admitted as she depolarized her visor, allowing Johnson to see her eyes. "Status?"
"All green," Johnson immediately answered, and Dare nodded.
She then turned to Branwen and called out, "Branwen?"
"Good," Branwen replied. He then asked, "How's the battle going?"
"As good as it can be, all things considered," Dare revealed as she began moving forward, prompting the marines all wielding MA5B assault rifles and the Huntsmen to walk along with her. "Thanks to you and the other Huntsmen, we've managed to punch a hole in the Covenant defenses in this sector. Everywhere else the advance has slowed to a crawl thanks to Covenant artillery and that damn Drone hive."
Johnson was afraid of that, but at the same time wasn't too surprised. Even though the UNSC outnumbered the Covenant several times over and had the element of surprise, attacking an entrenched position was always difficult. Especially when your enemy had weapons that put yours to shame. Frankly, he was grateful that they were doing as well as they were. As for the Drones, their participation was a bit more of a surprise since the captured Grunts didn't even hint that they were around. But, after giving it some more thought, it also made sense. The Covenant used Drones mostly as engineers, and the little buggers could make a new hive in a matter of hours. If the Covenant had been here for at least a few weeks, there was no telling how many had spawned.
Dare paused as she gunned down a fleeing Grunt, then continued, "The Army is already funneling troops here into the Covenant trench network, so hopefully they can continue pressing the advance onto the Cartographer, but we have a bigger problem. There's a pair of Anti-Air Wraiths preventing our air-support from approaching. We need to take them out, otherwise we won't be able to extract even if we manage to find Hill and her team."
She pressed a few buttons on her wrist-mounted tactical pad, and a map was automatically uploaded onto all of their HUDs. Two diamond symbols appeared on opposite ends of their local trench grid, and it wasn't difficult for Johnson to figure that they represented the two Anti-Air Wraiths. A volley of explosive fuel rods firing into the air from those relative locations was only further proof.
"I say we take both out at the same time," Ebi immediately suggested, and Branwen nodded.
"Was about to say the same thing," he admitted. Using an offered pad given to him by Johnson himself, Branwen used his finger to map out a route that just so happened to take them through a line of outer Covenant defenses, where he added, "If we cut through here, we can break the Covenant line and allow more soldiers and marines to breach the trench. Then we press forward, destroy the Covenant anti-air, and find our girls and Thomas."
Dare looked like she desperately wanted to refute that engagement plan, especially since there was a far more direct line to their targets, but she quickly noticed that all the other Huntsmen, with the exception of Gron, were nodding in agreement. She released a heavy sigh then muttered, "I swear to God…"
"Just roll with it, Lieutenant. Would probably be easier, too," Johnson advised, and Dare gave him a soft glare.
"Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it," she replied, then cleared her throat and added, "Alright, we'll do it your way. I doubt you'll listen to me if I say no, regardless. Once we clear the trench line, we'll split into two teams. Ebi, you take the Ace-Ops and Greenleaf with a squad of marines to attack the northern Wraith. You'll be with me. Branwen, you and Johnson take the rest down to the southern Wraith. With any luck, we'll take both out at the same time."
"Understood, ma'am," Ebi declared, giving Dare a crisp nod that the rest of the Ace-Ops copied. Johnson couldn't help but notice Branwen wince at the mention of luck, which given his Semblance made sense. But as soon as it appeared it was gone as he turned away before Johnson could even try offering any encouragement.
After a quick check of the teams' weapons, the Huntsmen and marines moved forward in unison. They made sure not to stay in too closely knit a formation, otherwise a lucky plasma grenade could take them all out at once. The sounds of intense battle, both distant and up close, could be heard all around, mixing together in an unrecognizable cacophony. The air was filled with multicolored explosions as both Covenant and human aircraft engaged each other, their flaming wrecks crashing onto the ground and splattering anyone unfortunate enough to be in the way. Occasionally a passing Covenant lance would engage the humans infiltrating the trench, but they were quickly cut down.
Johnson idly wondered why more Covenant weren't trying to chase them out, but he figured that, with the chaos of the battle unfolding around them, news of their arrival hadn't quite spread through the line. That was good news to him, assuming his gut was telling the truth. Which, more often than not, it was.
Soon they reached the first batch of Covenant defensive bunkers, which consisted of a Shade turret below a floating sniper tower. Grunts manning plasma turrets were raining fire on Mastodons, Warthogs, and Razorbacks attempting to push forward, with Jackal snipers putting down any marine unlucky enough to expose their head for more than a second. There was even a hole leading to the underground hive, where a few Drones flittered out and flew towards the UNSC Army. The Covenant didn't notice the new arrivals at first, but then an Elite glanced in their direction. His eyes widened in surprise, then he barked out some orders before turning to engage the humans.
He never got the chance to even fire his plasma rifle as he was gunned down by a combined volley from the assembled marines. Upon hearing their commander's warbling cries turn into a wet gurgle, the surprised Grunts and Jackals turned to face them. But soon they were gunned down as well, with Ederne firing a rocket into the Shade to destroy it. Vine, meanwhile, pulled himself into the sniper tower with the glowing extensions of his arms and brought out his chakrams upon entering. Soon the marines and Huntsmen on the ground heard a series of terrified squawks and saw sprays of blood and feathers fly out the openings. Then Vine simply jumped down, landing on his knee before running off to join the rest of the Ace-Ops in their advance.
"Move, move!" Johnson ordered, taking point as they charged the trench line.
If the Covenant didn't know they were here before, they sure as hell did now. Many of the defenders which were previously entirely focused on the advancing Army now turned to face them, attempting to pin the invaders down under an intense volley of plasma fire. Plasma grenades were tossed in their direction, most of which exploded harmlessly on the surface of the trench. A few unlucky marines were caught in their blasts, however, incinerating under the intense heat. Some even had their heads explode from beam rifle shots fired by Jackal snipers, and for a few moments it appeared that their advance had stalled.
But, by focusing on them for even that long, it gave the Army enough of an opening to press ahead. Counter-fire from a Warthog's chaingun ripped a Shade apart, and a gauss cannon pierced a sniper tower completely and plastered a Jackal's body all over the place. Soon the Covenant trench line began to collapse and panic as the marines and Huntsmen tore their way through their ranks, with the Army approaching from the flank with furious glee.
As Johnson fired his magnum into the skull of an Elite Ultra, staining the earthen wall with his purple blood and brain matter, a Mastodon APC rolled up to the edge. The back opened, depositing several squads of marines and Hellbringers. The latter, clad in their thick, insulating suits of armor and wielding heavy flamethrowers with fuel tanks strapped to their backs, carried an especially imposing image. They immediately brought their weapons to bear, shooting thick streams of napalm into the Covenant soldiers. As their bodies caught fire, they screamed and flailed in agonizing pain, which the two-man Hellbringer teams seemed to take special delight in seeing.
Johnson always felt it took a special type of person to become a Hellbringer. Watching this uncomfortable sight only made that more apparent. But soon the Hellbringers' attentions were captured by a nearby Drone hole, where Gron was spraying poison gas from his sword's built-in injector into the opening.
"Step aside, man. Let us show you how to exterminate some bugs," one of the Hellbringers ordered, his voice muffled behind his helmet's golden visor.
Gron looked at them with a slightly irritated expression on his face, but soon he relented and pulled his sword out from the hole. He muttered, "Wasn't really working on them anyway…"
The Hellbringer chuckled, then he and his partner pointed their nozzles into the hole. In unison, they fired a stream of napalm into the underground tunnel, where it quickly spread and consumed everything in its path. From inside they could hear the pained squeals of the Drones as they desperately tried to escape the blaze. But although a few charred individuals were able to crawl out, they soon expired.
Around them, they could see more Hellbringer teams employing the same tactic, firing their flamethrowers into the hive openings to literally burn the buggers out. Smoke filled the air, and in at least their sector they could see a noticeable decline in the number of Drones flying about. Despite his discomfort at seeing such weapons used against living things, Johnson couldn't help but nod at their effectiveness. Was certainly a better option than physically going into the hive themselves, or God forbid throwing in VX 7 nerve gas. That probably would've been even more effective in killing the Drones, but it carried an unacceptable risk of harming the human soldiers and marines fighting above ground. He suspected that that was the reason why the Hellbringers actually stopped Gron from poisoning the hive before any marine could accidentally breathe the purple gas in.
As a Scorpion tank rolled over a cleared section of the trench, firing its 90mm main cannon towards the Wraiths lining the jungle, Johnson turned around and pressed forward. They entered a fork in the trench, with each one leading to a separate sunken battery where the Anti-Air Wraiths were embedded. Flanking the Wraiths were two Shade turrets, firing their plasma cannons into the air in order to ward off any UNSC Hornets or Falcons.
The Ace-Ops reached their target first, with Ederne firing her rocket launcher into the two Shade turrets before they had time to react. As they exploded in clouds of purple fire, Bree raced forward and jumped onto the back of the Anti-Air Wraith. She clenched her legs in a saddle-grip, squared up her machine-clad fists as her eyes sparked, and pounded a flurry of punches into the exhaust port, the strength of her blows increased by both her Semblance and Fast Knuckles. The Wraith's pilots never even had a chance to react before the entire vehicle lurched in a fiery cascade, then exploded in a violent manner that sent a surprised Bree flying back. She landed on the metal ground hard, tumbling head over foot before coming to a stop at the far wall.
"…Ow…" Bree muttered to herself as Vine came over to help her up.
"You'll want to dismount sooner next time," he advised her, but the competitive woman merely frowned and lightly slapped his hand away with the back of her own before getting up on her own power.
From his position, Johnson couldn't help but chuckle in slight amusement as they and Dare's group moved on to an underground bunker at their location. He then turned his attention to the Wraith he and his team had to take. Unlike the other, this one was fully aware of their approach. The pair of Shades flanking it were already firing their cannons into the trench opening along with the Wraith's plasma turret gunner, preventing their approach and toasting anyone unfortunate enough to be in the opening from the sheer heat of the suppressive fire.
"Don't worry, I got this!" Abby called out as she increased the amount of Aura covering her family's ancestral weapon. It soon became so large that it could completely cover the front of her body, and so she placed it in front of herself to act as an impromptu shield.
Bravely stepping forth in front of the plasma fire, Abby grit her teeth as the bolts slammed into her sword. But the Aura held firm, allowing her to slowly advance forward. Yuri was right behind her, taking pot shots from his sniper rifle into the Shades' open cockpits in an attempt to snipe out the gunners. But from his current vantage point, and the armor plating that protected the Shades, that wasn't really an option. He was, luckily, able to snipe the Wraith gunner, bringing the number of guns on their position down from three to two. Soon Abby was forced to stop right at the edge of the entrance, as going any further would open up her flank to such a degree that she would be unable to protect herself or anyone else.
"I can't hold onto this for much longer!" she cried out, and the file of marines and Huntsmen behind her frowned.
Johnson then saw Branwen scrunch up his face in concentration. A moment later, one of the Shades suddenly overheated and stopped firing. This break in the combined fire allowed Abby to focus entirely on the other turret, stepping out fully and allowing her teammates to enter. Sienna immediately charged the stalled Shade, and as the Grunt gunner attempted to draw his needler and fire it at her in a panic, she speared his arm with Cerberus Whip and yanked him out. The needler was thrown from his hands and practically landed in Branwen's own as he reached out to catch it.
An Elite Ultra emerged from an underground bunker and charged towards him with an energy sword, but Branwen simply emptied the needler's magazine into the Elite's direction. The veteran alien reflexively dodged to the side with admirable agility, but it was futile as the needles curved to home in on him. After a few shards of blamite connected, the crystals supercombined and violently exploded like a frag grenade, sending the Elites' body flying in multiple directions.
"…Yeah, I think I'm going to keep this," Branwen mentioned to himself as he considered the needler in his hand thoughtfully, and Johnson led a few marines into the underground bunker alongside Marine and Traekke.
Just before Johnson went inside, he saw Honeycreep jump onto the front of the Anti-Air Wraith and repeatedly stab his revolver rapier into the top hatch where the pilot sat. After a few thrusts, the hatch opened and the Wraith powered down. Honeycreep effortlessly pulled the Elite's dead body out, then he paused as he tried to figure out what to do. His hand briefly twitched in the direction of a frag grenade he had on his belt, but then his face settled into an expression of determination as he instead jumped into the pilot's seat himself. It took him a few moments to understand the controls, but soon enough the Anti-Air Wraith hummed back to life. The Vale Huntsman then awkwardly turned the hover-tank to face the normal Wraith artillery platforms that were in range along with their assortment of Covenant troops, before he opened fire with its fuel rod cannons.
"Yeah, way to go, Honeycreep!" Johnson cheered, then he entered the bunker.
As soon as he reached the bottom, he immediately fired a Burn Dust shell into the body of an Elite Minor. It was as though he had shot it with a concussive flamethrower as the alien caught fire instantly, its shields breaking from the buckshot while everything beneath was exposed to the intense heat. As he flailed to the ground in agonizing pain, Johnson finished the Elite off with a magnum round to the head, then began engaging the other troops that were currently inside. Normally, such close quarters engagements with Covenant soldiers would've been suicide for human marines, but with the two Huntsmen currently taking point and the Dust munitions Johnson and a few other marines were gleefully exploiting, it was a slaughter in the other direction.
Unfortunately, several marines were cut down by either energy swords, plasma bolts, or a needler supercombine, but soon it was completely cleared of any Covenant presence.
Nodding to himself and the rest of the team, Johnson reloaded his shotgun and went back outside. As he did, he saw Sepia get out of the intact Anti-Air Wraith, where he frankly commented, "I honestly don't understand why they don't just use that thing as a normal tank. Seems far more effective than what they actually use."
"Welcome to Covenant tactics, Honeycreep. More often than not, they don't make a lick of sense," Johnson replied as he approached, and Honeycreep nodded.
"Hmm, I suppose that says a lot about their superiority that they're able to hold the advantage regardless of their tactics," Honeycreep murmured, and Johnson grimly shrugged.
"Ain't that the truth," he complained, then turned to face Lieutenant Dare as she and her team approached.
"Sergeant, good work," Dare told Johnson. She then turned to face Honeycreep where she said, "Good initiative, Honeycreep. You just opened up more of a hole for us to push through."
Honeycreep shrugged as he said, "I saw an opportunity and I took it. Although, I am surprised at just how…intuitive their controls were. It felt…"
When he was unable to finish the sentence, Dare said, "It felt as though you had used them before, even though you never had?"
"Yes, exactly. You've felt that, too?"
"First time I ever drove a Ghost or picked up any Covenant weapon," Dare admitted. "Ergonomics weren't designed with humans in mind, and their guns didn't really have any obvious trigger mechanisms, but after a few moments I was able to use them perfectly fine with little training. Except for the Banshees. Still can't fly those damn things…"
"Robyn and her team were able to do that, too, with those Ghosts," Greenleaf added. "First her, now you and Dare? How is it that we're able to do that?"
"Let me guess, classified?" Branwen asked, and Dare nodded before surprisingly giving an answer.
"To the public, yes, but truth be told we don't have an actual answer," she admitted as her visor depolarized, showing a grim and frustrated expression on her face. "We think that it's because their tech is based off of Forerunner artifacts, and many of them react strangely to humans."
Johnson had fought on many planets in his career, and many engagements had taken place in or around Forerunner sites, so he could personally attest to Dare's declaration. But this wasn't the time or place to discuss such things, and so he said, "As engaging as this is, we've got a team to find."
Dare nodded in agreement, then pointed towards the jungle said, "We tracked of their scroll signals heading in this direction, but interference is preventing us from getting their exact location."
"As good of a lead as any," he admitted, then pressed the stock of his shotgun to his shoulder. "Fan out and find them. Maintain visual contact. Jammers are probably gonna play hell with our comms. As soon as we make contact with Hill and her team, rendezvous here for extraction. Understood?"
"Yes, sergeant!" the marines shouted in unison, and Johnson nodded before climbing over the top of the trench.
As he pressed forward into the jungle, he passed by the shattered, melted, and burnt remains of the Covenant soldiers that Honeycreep had managed to put down. Johnson briefly turned around to watch how the rest of the attack was going. In their immediate sector things were going incredibly well. More and more UNSC soldiers were piling into the trenches to clear out the defenders, with armor and air power funneling into the gaps in the defenses to further break what was left. But the rest of the assault was a different story, with much of it stalled under the weight of the Covenant's fortifications. He couldn't help but scowl at the all too tragically familiar sight, especially at the knowledge that this was still a markedly better result than what he normally experienced.
If nothing else, this was more than proving the worth of the potential alliance with Remnant. If they were able to replicate this success across more worlds, humanity might just stand a chance. But that required that they find their missing Huntsman and Huntresses, and so he turned his attention back towards the thick jungle and entered the foliage, ignoring the sounds of battle taking place behind him.
It didn't take long for the thick jungle to muffle most of the battle taking place just outside of it. Johnson and the others could still hear the booms and cracks of gunfire, along with the sizzles and twangs of Covenant weapons. But they were distant, drowned out by the intense storm raging into the leaves. Part of Johnson appreciated the relative quiet. It gave him time to calm down somewhat, but he couldn't relax. Especially since the jungle canopy also blocked out most of the light, leaving him and the marines in near pitch darkness.
"Lights on," Johnson ordered, activating the mounted flashlight on his shotgun. Around him, the other marines did the same, their beams cutting through the darkness and illuminating the dense trees and foliage around them.
"Why don't you have night vision goggles?" he heard Bree curiously ask another marine, who couldn't help but give a mirthless chuckle in response.
"Lady, if you have an answer for that, please let me know because I would love to find out," she sarcastically replied, and Johnson smirked.
The marine sergeant then looked around to see where everyone else was. Their group was in a tightly packed and orderly formation, covering all angles with overlapping fields of fire at all times. Branwen and the other Huntsmen were spread throughout, ready to move at a moment's notice should the need arise. Dare was talking point, her MA5K carbine slowly and steadily sweeping the jungle for any signs of danger. Speaking of the ONI agent, she alone didn't have her flashlight turned on. Most likely because she was using her helmet's VISR. Johnson could not wait for the day the UNSC was able to get that to the regular troops and not just the special forces, but that would have to wait for a while.
Wet mud splashed underneath every footstep, and every so often Johnson would have to wipe away the rain from his goggles. He also couldn't help but reflexively flinch every time they heard a twig snap, with everyone joining him in aiming their weapons in its direction only to find out it was just a marine passing through a bush. But, overall, their slow advance through the jungle was relatively calm. Certainly a welcome change of pace from the chaos of the savannah and trenches.
Then that calm was shattered when Grammy called out, "I found something!"
At once everyone turned to surround the faunus, with most of the marines pointing their rifles outward to cover the others, including Johnson, Dare, and the Huntsmen, who went to inspect what Grammy had found. Johnson immediately grimaced at the sight of a Grunt clad in deep purple armor, stained by bright, neon blue blood. His head was completely covered in a matching helmet that had a bolt completely shot through the eye. It didn't take much effort for Johnson to figure out what happened, and a quick glance at Dare and the others told him that they realized the same thing he did.
"This is a Spec Ops Grunt," Dare plainly stated, her voice heavy with tension. "Some of the best, most elite soldiers the Covenant has to offer. These guys aren't sent out for no reason."
"Which means if they're out here, and not on the frontlines," Zeki continued, his normally passive face marked with the slightest of frowns, "they're hunting."
All of a sudden, the mission took a much more dire turn. It was one thing for Hill and her team to be relatively incognito within an active warzone. It was another to be in said warzone with a spec-ops team hot on your ass, actively trying to kill you. A spec-ops team that, by all accounts, they had already engaged. Johnson's grip on his shotgun tightened, and he glanced back up at Dare who was doing the same thing.
"We need to find them, now," Johnson declared, and Dare grimly nodded in agreement.
The lieutenant was silent for a moment as she went over her options. She then asked, "Marine, are we close enough to pull Hill and the others to you?"
"No. I need more than a vague general direction to pull anyone to me," Marine confirmed, and Dare released a sigh.
"I thought so. Damn it…" Dare paused for a moment, then said, "We're going to have to split up, cover more ground."
"Are you sure that's wise, Lieutenant? I can't get a signal, so if something goes wrong we can't call for backup," Ederne pointed out, prompting Johnson to try contacting anyone through TEAMCOM. All he got was static, causing him to grimace.
"Ederne's right, comms are completely down," Johnson declared, and Dare pointedly stared at him from behind her depolarized visor.
"I know. In fact, normally I'd advise against this exact thing for that exact reason. But the situation's changed," she pointed out, then began to point at the others. "Johnson, you and Branwen take Beta Squad up through the northeast corridor of the jungle. Kahn, you and the White Fang are with the Ace-Ops and Alpha Squad along the northwest corridor. That'll take you near the Cartographer site, so be careful. The rest of you are with me as we go north. Understood?"
"Yes, ma'am," the marines immediately replied along with the Ace-Ops, with the other Huntsmen simply nodding in agreement. Traekke didn't look too happy at being forced into the same group as the Ace-Ops, but a quick glare shot his way by Khan made him relent.
With a semblance of a gameplan formed, the platoon split into the three groups Dare created. Soon they separated completely, losing sight of each other behind the dense foliage. Occasionally, Johnson could see beams of light from their assault rifles' flashlights, but otherwise he couldn't see nor hear them. He didn't focus on that, though. Instead he kept his attention squarely on his immediate surroundings, particularly as they began to come across more signs of battle.
"Looks like Robyn and the others put up a hell of a fight," Branwen pointed out as they discovered the frozen and shattered body of a Spec-Ops Elite, his armor colored the same purple as the Grunt they found earlier.
"No kidding," Johnson replied, silently hoping that they were still in the fight. Luckily they hadn't found any red bloodstains on the jungle floor, trees, or plants. Plenty of alien blood, though.
"Dare, you copy?" Johnson tested their TEAMCOM channel. But he grimaced and shook his head as he only received static in response. He then said, "Great, we're not even that far from them and still can't get anything. Perfect."
"We can always find that jammer and destroy it," Branwen pointed out, and Johnson shrugged noncommittedly.
"If it's in the way, sure," Johnson replied, then paused and tilted his head slightly. He then asked, "Branwen, how well do you know Hill and her team?"
"About as well as you do," Branwen admitted.
"How likely do you think it is that the ever so considerate Robyn Hill, who thought it was a good idea to put herself in danger on a risky scouting mission, might decide to seek out whatever's jamming our communications and destroy it?"
Branwen thought for a moment, then he answered, "I'd wager it's pretty likely."
Johnson figured as much, then he barked out, "Men, listen up! We need to find that jammer and blow it straight to Hell. If we're lucky, Hill is thinking the same thing."
The marines replied affirmatively, then their squad's communications officer pulled out a tactical pad. Pressing a few buttons on its surface, made somewhat difficult by the rainwater, he uploaded a percentage gauge onto everyone's HUDs. It currently read fifteen percent.
"This should track the strength of the signal interference," the officer said. "The higher it is, the closer we're getting to the source."
"It's a rough heading, but we'll make it work. Let's move out, nice and steady," Johnson ordered.
With their weapons brought to bear, the marines and Huntsman began walking forward. It was difficult at first to find out the exact direction they should be going. They were so far out from the actual signal jammer that any progress made towards it was negligible or almost immediately negated. But, eventually, they were able to find a rough direction to go. The percentage gauge only increased incrementally, but progress was progress and Johnson wasn't about to spit in its face.
When the gauge began to near fifty percent, the pace sped up considerably. That was a great sign to the sergeant, telling him that they were definitely going in the right direction. Another indicator of that was the corresponding increase in Covenant bodies, all of which sported either arrow or Dust wounds, often a combination of both. Elites were charred, Grunts were frozen. One poor bastard literally had a rock erupt from inside his chest. Broken and scorched trees surrounded them, their apparent fire lines appearing to be steady and controlled but in nearly all directions. Johnson could only imagine the chaos of whatever firefight happened here.
But there was nothing now, only the silence of the jungle broken by the occasional thunderclap.
"I got a bad feeling about this, Sarge," one of the marines spoke up, and his friend scoffed.
"James, you got a bad feeling about everything. The only Covenant here are dead, as they should be, so just relax," the other marine said, with James shaking his head.
"I know that, but…I just can't help but feel like we're being watched or something."
Johnson understood that, by all accounts, the marine was just being paranoid. For all they knew, Robyn and her team did manage to kill all the Spec-Ops Covenant that were chasing them down. But, as he spotted a faint patch of red blood on a large, flatheaded leaf attached to a tree trunk, he frowned.
"Let's not take any chances," Johnson said. "Move out, and keep your eyes and ears peeled. If any of these bastards are still around, they might have active camouflage on."
That was the worst part about dealing with Covenant Spec-Ops. It wasn't their skill, weapons, armor or shields. It was the fact that all of them could vanish into thin air in the blink of an eye. Most marines couldn't fight what they couldn't see. Even Johnson had struggles doing just that.
Still, even as the marines' nerves were stretched under the terrifying prospect of being stalked by invisible aliens, they pressed forward. More alien bodies were found in similarly broken states as what they found before. But they also found more human blood. Not a lot, and certainly no bodies, but enough to catch notice. Clearly one of the Huntsmen got wounded. Who and to what extent was impossible to discern, but it made Johnson pick up the pace ever so slightly.
Once their interference gauge reached ninety percent, they moved into view of a large purple, glowing tower interwoven with a large tree serving as natural camouflage. That wasn't something Johnson expected. Normally, the Covenant liked to make their presence stand out. But, then again, this was a stealth operation. Hiding their critical components from any prying eyes was probably of the utmost concern.
He began checking his pack for any C-12 demolition charges when he suddenly heard a snap, followed by a loud crack. A moment later, one of the marines briefly cried out, and Johnson turned to face the man just as a glowing, two-pronged energy sword flickered out of existence. Where the marine just stood was now only a smoking, bisected corpse, and Johnson's eyes widened.
"Oh, SHIT!" one of the other marines cried out in fear as he emptied his magazine in the direction he saw the energy sword go. A few others joined their comrade, their gunfire nearly deafening.
"Hold your fire! Hold your fire, dammit!" Johnson ordered at the top of his lungs. Slowly the barrage trickled out, mostly because their magazines were now empty. As the terrified marines reloaded their weapons and looked back to him and Branwen for guidance, Johnson added, "Alright, we got ourselves a sneaky bastard. Just stay calm and find him."
Glancing up at the rain, he added, "Watch the water. He's invisible, not intangible."
With their flashlights cutting through the darkness, Johnson, Branwen, and the marines circled out. His heart was thundering inside his chest, and it was taking all of his willpower to stop his shotgun from shaking in his hands. The same couldn't be said for the other marines, most of whom looked absolutely terrified. They probably had never faced a Spec-Ops Elite before. Only Branwen was the picture of calm, simply holding out Harbinger at the ready.
Then, out of nowhere, a single blue plasma bolt shot through the darkness and into the back of a marine next to Johnson. His body almost immediately popped like a blister, sending steam in all directions and splashing Johnson with a bit of boiling blood. He caught a shimmer and fired a shell in its direction, but unfortunately he hit nothing. Another marine attempted to join in by firing a quick burst, which only tore up the trees.
Johnson's eyes darted in every direction. He glanced at his motion tracker, but all he could see was just a few green dots. He cursed, realizing that the Elite knew what the humans had on hand and was moving at just the right speed to evade their motion trackers completely. Idly, Johnson wondered how many lives this Elite had taken. He didn't have an answer beyond a lot, which made him feel a tad bit more determined to put this bastard down.
Suddenly, he felt Branwen push his head and upper torso down. Johnson then felt something hot shoot past him, followed by the sound of a shotgun blast. Quickly looking up, Johnson saw a shield flicker as Branwen's buckshot glanced off the Spec-Ops Elite's energy shield, exposing him long enough for the marines to open fire. The Elite snarled and ran while firing his plasma rifle into the humans, cutting down another pair of marines and forcing Johnson and Branwen to the ground beneath the stream of bolts.
"Shit, shit, SHIT!" the last remaining marine yelled in a panic as he emptied his magazine. Pausing to reload instead of pulling his sidearm, he took his eyes off the Elite for a second. It was all that the Elite needed to close the distance, stabbing the man in the chest with his energy sword. The marine gasped as he peered into the glowing eyes of the Elite's helmet, and he faintly struggled to grasp the alien's forearm as he was lifted up. But soon he went slack, and the Elite tossed his body aside and turned to face him and Branwen.
As an enraged Johnson fired his shotgun from his prone position at the Elite, Branwen released a yell and charged forward. The buckshot was absorbed by the Elite's energy shield, and when Branwen swung Harbinger in its blade form the Elite countered it with his energy sword. The fact that Harbinger wasn't immediately cut through came as a surprise to the Elite, who openly stared at it in bewilderment, but this gave Branwen an opening to heel kick him in the chest.
The blow sent it flying back, but most of the force was absorbed by the energy shield. As the Elite skidded into the underbrush, he fired his plasma rifle from the hip towards Branwen, who deflected the bolts with Harbinger's blade. The Elite, meanwhile, reactivated his cloak, disappearing from view once again as Johnson saw and heard his blurred form scuttle further into the trees.
"Dammit!" Johnson cursed as he picked himself up and ran towards Branwen. When he reached him, he put his back to him while scanning the area and asked, "You have any more of those Dust shells?"
"No, used them all in the trench," Branwen admitted, and Johnson cursed. Before the marine could say anything, though, Branwen grimly added, "I'm going after him, stay here."
"Stay? What do you mean-?" Johnson asked as he turned around, only to find that Branwen was no longer there, with only a trio of black feathers floating to the ground in his place.
"What the hell?!" Johnson shouted in surprise, looking around to try and find where Branwen had gone. He heard something fluttering overhead, and he barely caught a small shape fly through the branches in the same direction as the Elite as he looked up. Johnson squinted his eyes, not fully understanding what was going on.
But he couldn't focus on that. Instead, he pulled back to the Covenant jammer so that it would at least cover his back. His shotgun didn't remain in one spot for more than a second, his eyes peeled for any disturbance in the rain or mud. So far he didn't spot a thing, but that was far from cause for celebration.
Then, he heard Branwen shout and the Elite roar as they apparently clashed in the distance. This was quickly punctuated by the distinctive whine and blast of a plasma grenade, which Johnson glimpsed the flash of through the trees, and his heart dropped in worry at the rain-filled silence that followed.
Johnson weighed his options as the seconds passed and he strained his senses for any sign of the victor approaching his position, either friend or foe. Then he heard another bout of fluttering and this time managed to see a bedraggled crow of all things alight on a tree at the edge of the clearing. The rather out-of-place bird shook the rain from its feathers and looked at him before glancing around alertly, and Johnson narrowed his eyes in suspicion.
He couldn't afford to keep his eyes up though, and returned to scanning the ground at his own level. Just as he was gritting his teeth with tension, the damn crow let loose a sudden, cacophonous caw, and he jumped despite himself. But he wasn't the only one. Johnson heard a splash of mud horribly close to him from the side, and saw a cavity in the rain drops that had rounded on the calling bird.
He turned around as fast as he could, bringing his shotgun to bear and firing as the Spec-Ops Elite revealed itself. But the Elite simply let his shields take it again as he powered through with his activated sword. Johnson knew he wasn't going to be fast enough, even as he automatically went through the motions of pumping his shotgun in what felt like slow motion. Before the Elite could do anything to him, though, Branwen suddenly appeared from overhead with a yell, slicing Harbinger through the Elite's forearm. The damaged energy shield buckled immediately, allowing the blade to cleanly cut through. As the Elite screamed in pain while trying to aim his plasma rifle with his free hand, the severed limb spraying a jet of purple blood into the air, Johnson finished chambering the next shell and immediately popped it into his exposed skull.
The now headless alien collapsed onto the ground, and both Johnson and Qrow breathed heavily. After a moment, Branwen looked back at Johnson and said, "Sorry, I thought I had him, then he nearly blew me up and doubled back for you instead."
Part of Johnson wanted to yell at Branwen for leaving him behind to go play hide and seek with a damn invisible enemy, and nearly getting them both killed in the process. But the rest was simply trying to understand what had happened. One moment, Branwen was there with him. The next, he was gone, and a literal crow had suddenly appeared. A bird that, as far as he knew, was not native to Peponi. He didn't have all the pieces in place, but he was smart enough to spot connections when they were there.
What he didn't understand was how, exactly, Branwen's disappearance and the crow's arrival were connected. Given all that he had seen of Semblances, he might have dismissed it as Branwen simply turning into a crow in order to get the jump on their enemy. If a woman could turn anything she touched into gold and another could turn back time itself for a few seconds, turning into an animal wasn't outside the realm of possibility, strange enough as it was. But that wasn't Branwen's Semblance. His Semblance was the manipulation of what laymen would call bad luck.
So if that wasn't his Semblance, then what the hell was it?
Johnson had half a mind to demand some answers, but he decided that, right now, chewing Branwen out would have to wait. Instead, he simply grimaced then turned to grab the fallen marines' dog tags and said, "Come on, let's destroy that jammer."
Branwen seemed to appreciate not being put on the spot, but a quick glance in Johnson's direction told the marine that he, too, realized that they were going to have a discussion after this. Once they returned to the jammer, Johnson took out his C-12 charges and attached them to the column's base. They backed up to a safe distance, then pressed the detonator. The entire column went up in fire and smoke, and soon his TEAMCOM channel burst to life.
"Mayday, mayday, or whatever the hell you people say! This is Robyn Hill!" he heard Robyn's voice cut through the now open line. "We have wounded and are in need of extraction! Someone answer me, damn it!"
"We read you, Hill," Johnson immediately replied, and he could hear Robyn sigh in relief.
"Finally! I've been trying to call you guys for the past two hours!" she complained.
"Had to deal with a comm jammer, but we're all good now," Johnson revealed as he began tracking the signal's source, which luckily wasn't too far from their current location.
"Yeah, we tried destroying it but those damn Covenant tracking us fought us off."
Dare then added to the radio conversation and demanded, "Hill, what's your location and status?"
"We're hiding in a cave on the cliff edge overlooking the Covenant base. Sending our coordinates now. Fiona got wounded, and May is cloaking us with her Semblance."
"Is it serious?" Johnson asked as her location was marked with a waypoint on his HUD.
"Just a glancing blow to her shoulder. She says it's not a big deal, and she's a tough girl so I believe her."
Johnson sighed in relief, then he said, "Stay where you are, we're on our way."
"Not like we're going anywhere."
With that, Johnson closed the line, then turned to Branwen and said, "Come on, let's move."
Branwen didn't need to be told twice, then the pair moved as one in Robyn's direction.
Thankfully, it appeared that the Spec-Ops Elite that they killed was the last one that remained. Johnson wouldn't be surprised if that turned out to be their leader, although it was impossible to say for certain. It wasn't like they could ask him anymore, not that he would've said anything even if they had managed to capture him. Actually taking Covenant prisoners was a difficult affair. First of all, you had marines and soldiers who wanted to take some much deserved payback against the monsters who had been destroying their homes and killing their friends and loved ones. That attitude wasn't very conducive to a willingness to take prisoners in the first place. And on the other side, most of the Covenant soldiers they fought were, by all accounts, zealots. Sure, Grunts and Jackals were the most likely to surrender, assuming their commander was dead, but good luck trying to capture an Elite. If an Elite finds no opportunity to break out and kill his captors, he'll more often than not try to kill himself instead. Johnson understood it to be some kind of honor thing. That actually made sense to a certain extent, but the more important point was that it was nearly impossible to take prisoners of war against the Covenant.
In any case, taking prisoners was a moot subject for now. Instead, Johnson remained focused on trying to find Robyn. He followed the waypoint on his HUD which marked her location, heading up the cliffside to a small cave overlooking the quarry. It quickly became apparent that Johnson and Branwen weren't the first to arrive. The other marines and a few Huntsmen were already taking defensive positions at key points, nodding in their direction while letting them pass. Dare and most of the other Huntsmen were inside the cave, with a medic tending to Fiona Thyme on the ground.
"Grgh!" Thyme growled in pain as the marine corpsman sprayed biofoam into an open wound on her shoulder, which had already been treated with anti-burn gel. As Johnson approached, he winced as he saw the injury. It appeared that a plasma bolt had glanced past the back of her left shoulder, burning away some of the flesh. The other members of their party sported other small wounds and cuts, but nothing as serious.
"Hold still," the corpsman chastised as he continued to treat her. "You got lucky. Just a few more centimeters down and you'd be missing an arm, or worse."
"Aah, I…know that," Thyme grunted while giving the man a slight frown. "But I told you…I'm fine."
If only to back up her words, Thyme stood up and began walking away. She reflexively winced as she moved her shoulder back and forth slightly, but after a few moments of focusing her Aura she was able to push through it. Of course, the unamused corpsman just put his hand firmly on her other shoulder and spoke with that voice of medical authority that had Johnson reflexively straighten a bit more.
"I said, hold still," he scolded. "I don't care about what your fancy pancy magic powers do, and I don't need you to prove how tough you are. I get enough of that from the rest of the jarheads I have to work on."
He gave the shorter faunus an encouraging look, while lightly increasing the pressure of his grip on her much stronger frame, and he continued, "Now please sit down with me and refrain from aggravating your injury, until it's time for you to go back out and kick ass again."
Thyme made a point of staying standing for another few moments, before sheepishly following his request and letting him finish securing her wound. Johnson couldn't help but huff in respect. She'd still have to be checked out once they got back to the Midsummer Night, but she was definitely a tough girl. He then turned his attention to Dare who was currently talking to Hill. Or, rather, lecturing to Hill.
"When we get back to the Midsummer Night, you and I are going to have a discussion with the Commander," Dare said, her voice hard with tension. "I understand that you think you were doing the right thing, but this little stunt put the entire mission in jeopardy."
"You don't think I know that?" Hill pointed out, then crossed her arms defiantly. "Also, we did do the right thing, and you know it. If we hadn't scouted this place out and sabotaged the Covenant's defenses, the UNSC's assault would've been gutted. Besides, it's not our fault General Amari jumped the gun. Our plan was to be out of here before the battle even started."
"Well, things didn't go to plan, did they?" Dare replied, jabbing a finger into Hill's arm.
The brash young Huntress looked more than willing to continue the argument, but as she glanced to the last of her teammate's treatment, whatever rejoinder she had died on her lips as they twisted into a frown. Dare then shook her head and turned away, motioning for Johnson to join her as they walked out of the cave. The other Huntsmen, with Greenleaf and the Vale Huntsmen at the front, soon began to surround Hill and her team, asking various questions that all just blended together.
"Well?" Johnson asked once they were outside of the cave and earshot.
"I am now convinced that Robyn Hill is one of the most stubborn and reckless individuals I have ever had the misfortune of meeting," Dare revealed as she let out a frustrated groan. "The worst part is that I don't know if I should throw her in the brig or give her a medal."
"Because she was right?"
"Yes, and that's the worst part," Dare confirmed as she threw her head back and released another groan.
Johnson was quite familiar with the dilemma the ONI agent found herself in, even if most of his experience came from being on the other side of such things. On the one hand, Hill's actions put the entire mission in jeopardy and nearly got herself and her team killed. On the other, she was doing her job as a Huntress against the Covenant, which the UNSC ultimately wanted out of this alliance, and her actions were proving instrumental in the success of the Assault on the Cartographer. It was already difficult enough as it was to get here, and he didn't even want to begin imagining just how many more men would've died had the Covenant been at full strength.
At least now it was over, and luckily no one mission critical was killed or seriously wounded. Briefly adjusting the weight of his shotgun in his hands, Johnson said, "Well, in any case, we got who we came for. Best we haul ass back to the extraction point and get the hell out of here."
"Agreed," Dare replied as she turned around to face the others. "I've had enough excitement for one day."
She then glanced at the dog tags currently wrapped around Johnson's forearm. It only lasted for a moment, but the sergeant recognized the regretful and remorseful look behind her depolarized visor. Johnson responded with a heavy look as well, and Dare slowly turned away before returning to the cave entrance.
"Alright, listen up," Dare called out, prompting everyone to focus their attention on her. "The air is too hot to call in an extraction from this position, so we're going to have to go back the way we came. Check your ammo, we leave in five minutes."
"Yes, ma'am," the marines replied, with many already beginning to check their weapons and remaining magazines. Johnson did as well, a slight scowl on his face from the stress of the overall mission.
"Lieutenant, Sergeant, you might want to take a look at this," Grammy suddenly called out from his position overlooking the quarry.
Johnson and Dare looked at each other, then they hastily made their way over to the White Fang sniper. He was currently resting on his knee, looking through the scope of his sniper-rifle down into the quarry. Dare used her helmet's built-in zoom function while Johnson took out a pair of binoculars to join in the observation, and what he saw made him wince.
The UNSC's assault had managed to progress somewhat, with more of the outer defenses destroyed or overrun. But the terrain had trapped them in a bottleneck that the Covenant was ruthlessly exploiting. Burning wrecks of destroyed vehicles clogged the entryway, with scores of dead human soldiers laying on the ground. The pass was filled with exchanges of bullets, rockets, and plasma, turning what used to be a pristine riverbed into a bloody meatgrinder. From what Johnson could see, a few soldiers were trying to provide covering fire from the cliffside overlooking the quarry, but Jackal Snipers were preventing them from doing much at all.
"They're getting slaughtered," Johnson heard Branwen whisper, and he quickly glanced behind his shoulder to see that everyone else had joined them on the cliffside.
"Yeah, they are," Traekke added, a hint of sympathy hitting his voice but not much. "Still, the Covenant are losing ground. They'll be overrun soon enough."
"And how many soldiers will die trying to break through?" Zeki asked, and Traekke shrugged.
"Not our problem. We did our job, so let's let the UNSC's people do theirs."
"That's bullshit and you know it," Greenleaf rebuffed. "Whether you like it or not, this is our fight, too."
"While I appreciate the enthusiasm, Greenleaf," Dare responded with a heavy voice, "Traekke is right. Our mission is to get you all off-planet, nothing more."
"It doesn't have to be," someone pointed out, causing Dare to automatically glance in Hill's direction. The leader of the Happy Huntresses just looked at Redwall from where she'd sat down supportively next to Thyme, and the ONI agent blinked in embarrassment as she registered that Hill wasn't the first one to call for risking all of their lives to keep participating in this battle, for once.
"If you are seriously suggesting that we interfere again—" Dare began, and Redwall nodded.
"That's exactly what I'm suggesting. We're Huntsmen and Huntresses. It's our job to protect people from monsters. Sure, the Covenant aren't the Grimm, but we all know they fit the definition. Besides, we're already in this far. The way I see it, might as well see this through to the end," the mouse-eared Huntress declared, and many of the Huntsmen nodded in agreement, including all of the Happy Huntresses.
Behind her depolarized visor, Dare had a conflicted expression on her face. She looked to be of half a mind to angrily rebuff Redwall's suggestion, but another glance towards the slaughter happening below gave her pause. The occasional TEAMCOM transmission of terrified soldiers calling out for support made it even worse. She then humorously asked, "And how, exactly, do you suggest we do that, Redwall? As much as I would love to put an end to this, there's only a handful of us. If we go down there, we might kill a lot of Covenant before we're all killed, but that won't be enough to get the rest of the Army down there past that kill zone."
"Not necessarily," Marine hesitantly volunteered before pointing at herself. "We have the solution right here."
Dare glanced at Marine in consternation, then she demanded, "Elaborate."
The blue-themed swordswoman looked uncertainly at her team leader, and Honeycreep nodded his approval as Cornell did the same.
"I was thinking about it while we had to fight all the way over here, because my Semblance was interfered with. We can take our original plan and modify it slightly," Marine explained. "I was supposed to teleport the others back to us before the battle started. That isn't an option now, but we're behind enemy lines. The Covenant knows we're here, but they're too focused on the Army to do anything about it. That gives us an opportunity. If we split our heavy hitters among the UNSC forces to make enough of an opening, then use that to have May sneak me and a few others down into the heart of the Covenant base…"
"You can teleport an entire army behind their defenses, bypassing them completely," Ebi finished the thought, and a vindicated Marine nodded.
"Exactly. By the time the Covenant realizes what's going on, it'll be too late."
Johnson pursed his lips in thought as he thought over the rough plan. The more he did, the more he began to like it. It would catch the Covenant completely by surprise and turn the battle around almost immediately, assuming it worked as Marine envisioned. Given how the Covenant had no real defense against Semblances, it stood to reason that it had a serious chance of success. Plus, he could imagine the look on the Covenant's faces if they teleported an entire army right on their asses. That, alone, almost made it worth it.
"Hmm…" Dare hummed to herself as she paced back and forth, going over the options. She then paused and looked at the other Huntsmen and tersely asked, "You're all pretty set on this, aren't you?"
Ebi shrugged and admitted, "This plan could work. I see no reason why it can't, assuming that Marine can, in fact, teleport that many people to her."
"Well, the battle's still pretty chaotic, and I've never done that many before," Marine admitted while awkwardly twirling her hair in her fingers, "but I think I can."
"You think or you can?" Dare demanded, and Marine recoiled slightly. After a moment, though, she steeled herself and nodded.
"Yes, I can do it," she declared.
Dare squinted her eyes as she stared at all of them, then she released a sigh and said, "Something tells me that, even if I said no, you're just going to do it anyway. Alright, here's what we're going to do."
Normally, Ir would already be on the frontlines in this glorious battle. His hearts ached to do so, and every moment was a struggle to prevent himself from charging into the fray. But even as he kept his energy sword activated without spilling any blood with it, he forced himself to remain in the temple of the citadel, monitoring their progress. Both of the battle, which was slowly but surely turning in the humans' favor, and the downloading of the Cartographer's data. They were almost finished, despite the chaos unfolding around them. Just a few more minutes, then they could load the memory block onto the Phantom and extract to the Valorous Penance.
"Blademaster, more of our outer defenses have been breached. We've also lost contact with Commander 'Turalumee and his forces," Rteda declared, and Ir flexed his mandibles in agitation while breathing heavily through his nostrils.
"When the Great Journey begins, may the weight of his failure stay his feet," he cursed the fallen Spec-Ops commander. "It is no matter. The humans will be victorious for now, but not for long. Soon our brethren will arrive, and this planet will be cleansed of the humans and their filth."
"Of course, Blademaster," Rteda replied, and Ir nodded at his newest Zealot.
"Do not be weighed down with doubts, Rteda. Once the knowledge is ordained, we shall personally lead the assault to reclaim this holy site."
Rteda nodded in apparent agreement with that statement, then he saluted his Blademaster and walked away to return to his station. Ir watched him go, then turned around to look at the Cartographer one last time. It filled his hearts with regret, knowing that the humans were about to sully it with their presence. Logically, he knew he was making the right call and, in the long run, it would be for naught. But it was still a stain on his honor, and to a Blademaster of his renown, honor was all they truly had.
It was why he requested they lead the future assault to reclaim the Cartographer once they safely extracted the relic's knowledge. The possibility that the humans would manage to successfully hold the Cartographer was slim, admittedly, but it was still there. If Ir lost the Cartographer and was unable to reclaim it, the stain on his honor would be unremovable. Nay, it would be heresy. At the very least he could expect a visit from the Prophets' personal hands, the Silent Shadow, to exact retribution. His clan might even be targeted, not just from the Prophets but their rival keeps on Malurok.
No, he could not let that possibility come to pass. Once the Cartographer's holy records were safely recovered, he would personally reclaim this site, or die trying. Either way, his honor would be clean.
A shame he wouldn't be able to find the saboteurs. If he was lucky, he might be able to identify them later and personally extract vengeance, but for now that didn't appear to be an option. He returned his attention to the temple's holographic map depicting the terrain, where the Covenant's sensors were able to monitor both his and the humans' forces.
"Have our lances guarding the northern flank move to reinforce the northwest line," he ordered through the proselytization network, waving his hand through the topographical map to direct the symbols depicting those lances to their new locations. He received a few words of acknowledgement, and he watched as they began to move as ordered.
"Blademaster, the download is almost complete," one of his Zealots reported, and Ir nodded in satisfaction.
"Good, I'm on my way down. As soon as it is ready, move the memory block onto the Phantom," Ir ordered as he turned around.
Stepping onto the temple's teleporter pad, he reappeared in the front of the citadel, where he then made his way over to the spire. There were his Zealots guarding a Phantom, a pair manning the side-mounted plasma turrets while the rest stood outside. A few were still inside the temple, guarding the memory block itself, but he knew they would be out momentarily.
"Have any humans managed to breach the perimeter?" Ir asked, and one of the Zealots shook his head.
"No, Blademaster. They hold firm," he reported, and Ir released a sigh.
"Pity, I was hoping to kill at least one. My blade is thirsty for blood," he admitted. He then stood up straight and said, "No matter. Prepare to move out. We—"
"Blademaster!" Rteda suddenly shouted while pointing behind him, reaching with his other hand towards his plasma rifle.
Ir shot around and faced the center of the quarry where, to his surprise, he suddenly saw a small group of humans appear out of thin air. Almost as though they were exiting an active camouflage field. But that should be impossible. Human stealth technology was admittedly impressive in many ways, despite their primitive methods, but they lacked the ability to bend light to their will. Yet here he was watching it happen before their eyes, seemingly coming from a glowing woman in the center of the group. The humans themselves were also strangely dressed, many sporting melee weapons rather than the primitive chemically propelled firearms they usually carried into battle.
Still, Ir managed to get over his shock, and he smiled gleefully at the chance to finally let his blade spill some blood. He prepared to order a charge, then he saw another woman lift up her steel sword and blow into a horn that she had strangely placed into her sword's cross guard. A stupefied Ir was left stunned at why she would do that. But that feeling turned into abject horror as a series of portals began to appear behind her. At first it was just one about the size of a human, then another, and another, and more still. With each passing moment, portals of varying sizes appeared in the center of the camp, and from those portals came human warriors charging through along with their tanks and armored cars. At the front of the groups were those strangely armed humans, and by the time the other Covenant forces realized what was going on, the humans were already on them.
What once was an organized, if highly stressed, defensive line immediately shattered as a human army literally appeared right on top of them. Tanks blew apart turrets and Locusts, soldiers gunned down the panicking Unggoy and their Sangheili commanders who were desperately trying to regain control of the situation. Some were even run over by the armored cars, their gunners firing their mounted weapons into the Covenant's midst.
But Ir's attention wasn't focused on the soldiers. No, he was focused on the new humans, the ones with weapons he had never seen before in his life. They were tearing their way through the Covenant like they weren't even there, breaking apart even the most durable shield with hardly any effort. Their weapons literally spat fire, ice, and lightning, further adding to their devastation. And their speed and strength rivaled or even surpassed his Sangheili. But more than that, they were displaying esoteric abilities that he had no explanation for. One was covered in an impenetrable golden sheen, impervious to any blow sent his way. Another was literally a blur as she tore through the Covenant ranks. A third had her blade sheathed in a blue aura that reminded him of an energy sword, and she was using it to cleave a Locust in half.
As more and more loyal Covenant soldiers were slaughtered, Ir 'Haramai would only stare in shock. He was only broken out of his stupor when Rteda ran over to him, grabbed his shoulder, and yelled, "Blademaster! Blademaster, we have to go!"
Shaking his head clear of his thoughts, Ir prepared to turn around and run back to the Phantom. As he did, a human rifleman attempted to gun him down, but Ir's energy shield readily absorbed the bullets with no issue, allowing him to go out of his way to stab the man through the chest with his energy sword. His blade's bloodlust satiated for now, he deactivated his weapon and sprinted back towards the Phantom. As he did, a pair of Zealots came running out of the citadel, carrying the large memory block holding the Cartographer's records on their shoulders. Several humans zeroed in on them, but the other Zealots were able to provide effective covering fire, allowing them to safely get aboard through the Phantom's gravity lift.
"Take off, now!" Ir ordered as soon as he entered the gravity lift and his feet landed upon the inner hull of the dropship. Making his way to the outer edge, he watched as the human forces completely broke through the line, killing any Covenant soldiers who got in their way. Bright blue explosions filled the quarry as they began firing upon the citadel, tearing the glorious structure apart piece by piece. Most of the remaining defenders were being forced to go into the Cartographer itself, with the strange humans personally leading the charge.
"Demons…" Ir breathed out as he continued to watch them work.
He had heard tales of the demons that the humans employed against the Covenant. Hulking beasts as large as a Sangheili, clad from head to foot in nigh impenetrable armor, wielding deadly speed, strength, and skills that put all but the most seasoned warriors of the Covenant to shame. Rumor said that they were the physical manifestations of every human the Covenant had killed, their tainted souls gathered then brought back to the realm of the living through some unknown necromantic ritual to enact vengeance upon them, relentless and unkillable. Ir never placed much stock in those rumors before, but he couldn't help but give them more credence now.
Some of the human forces attempted to fire on their retreating Phantom, with one of the turret operators getting sniped out of the air. But luckily the Phantom was able to avoid or shrug off most of the damage, allowing it to speed away from the Cartographer.
As the doors closed, Ir turned around to face his remaining Zealots and asked, "Is the memory block secure?"
"Yes, Blademaster," Rteda answered as he stood guard next to the memory block, which was a large, bulbous contraption that had two ends meeting in the middle through a thick, square-shaped rod. Rteda then asked, "Blademaster…what just happened? What were those things?"
Ir was silent for a moment, then he shook his head and answered, "I don't know, 'Vasovee. I don't know."
The cabin fell silent as everyone pondered his statement, more than a little dread creeping into all of them. Ir noticed that his hands were somewhat shaking. He tried to make himself stop, but the more he thought over what he had just seen, the more he found himself unable to do so. His Zealots noticed his apprehension as they turned to him for guidance, and he could see on their faces that his fear was spreading to them as well.
Seeing that made Ir calm himself, and he stood up straight to begin speaking. But before he could say a word, the pilots screamed, "MISSILES!"
Suddenly their Phantom lurched to the side as a massive explosion struck. It was followed by another, causing the left-side door to be completely blown off. One of his Zealots lost his footing and fell, his scream brief before being lost in the rushing wind. The pilots bravely attempted to retain control over their aircraft, but when another volley of human missiles struck, their engines completely gave out. They began to rapidly descend, and it took all of Ir's strength to hold onto a small divot in the floor.
"HOLD ON!" Ir yelled at the top of his lungs as he watched the Phantom approach the ground. Then it landed, and everything went dark.
Qrow had to admit, he had some concerns about following this plan. Part of him had wanted to just call it a day and get out of there. But, after seeing just how much the gambit paid off, he decided that those concerns were for naught. In fact, Casper's maneuver had gone off perfectly. The Covenant had been caught completely with their pants down, and he couldn't have asked for a better result. With their citadel destroyed, their forces routed, and the exterior defenders slaughtered down to the last Grunt, the UNSC was able to firmly secure the quarry. Now all they had to do was mop up the remaining Covenant inside the Cartographer itself, and thanks to the Huntsmen and Huntresses with him, it was a fairly straightforward affair.
"Put down your weapons now!" an Army sergeant yelled towards a lance of Covenant Grunts, his M73 Light Machine Gun pointed squarely at them. His men, armed with M395 DMRs and MA37 assault rifles, were also covering the Covenant who were slowly raising their arms and dropping their weapons. They looked absolutely terrified in the face of the enraged humans surrounding them, with their eyes and heads darting in every direction.
That was when one Grunt decided to pull out a plasma grenade and prime it. He never got the chance to do anything as the human soldiers immediately opened fire, gunning down both the offending Grunt and the ones who were legitimately trying to surrender.
"Cease fire, cease fire!" the sergeant ordered, and the gunfire trickled to a close. He snarled at the sight before him as the primed plasma grenade exploded, disintegrating the fresh corpses within its radius, then he cursed, "God-dammit! Stupid Covenant bastard…"
Qrow shook his head at the perfidy that just happened before him, then moved on. Johnson, Dare, and the rest of the Huntsmen were mopping up the final pieces of Covenant resistance at the center of the Cartographer chamber, allowing a sense of calm to finally overtake this place. It gave him the opportunity to truly take stock of his surroundings, and he couldn't help but whistle in appreciation.
He had been in countless ruins before. Remnant was filled with the remains of long-dead civilizations brought down by either Grimm, the natural elements, or their fellow man. Mostly the Grimm. But this place brought all of them to shame. The Cartographer was a massive metallic structure built into the rock, the walls, floor, and ceiling all comprised of the same silvery-steel alloy. Faint neon-blue lights lined the sharp, geometric surfaces, and the downward sloping chambers all led to a massive chasm that seemed to have no bottom. The remains of what seemed to be two bridges spanned the pass, and he wondered how the Covenant were able to get some equipment over on the other side. At least until Johnson went over to a nearby panel and pressed a holographic button, causing a bridge made of literal light to appear between both ends of the two platforms.
Eyeing the hardlight surface carefully, Qrow kicked a discarded plasma pistol onto it. Despite its appearance, the plasma pistol remained standing. A moment later, he stood out on it as well, walking over to the center of the bridge with no issue at all. He even jumped up and down a few times, with the hardlight structure remaining firm.
"Huh…" Qrow absentmindedly said, and Johnson chuckled as he walked over to join him and lightly slap the veteran Huntsman on the shoulder.
"Yep, I did that, too, the first time I saw one of these things. Still do, actually," he admitted.
Qrow nodded then turned around to follow Johnson towards the raised platform that laid at the heart of the Cartographer itself. He heard the other light-bridge snap to life, followed by Elm saying in complete awe, "Holy… Atlas has nothing on this…"
"I don't think anyone has anything on this," Clover admitted, his eyes trailing the structure up and down in an almost reverent fashion. Qrow couldn't help but agree.
Once they reunited next to the platform, Qrow studied it for a moment. At the center of the platform was a small, hanging tower of some kind, with a pedestal at the front. Implanted in the pedestal was a large sphere covered in a runic alphabet that Qrow couldn't even begin to understand. A few soldiers were already setting up equipment next to it, with Abby curiously eyeing the podium directly. But the rest of the Huntsmen were with Dare, taking stock of their situation with no small amount of glee on their faces. Especially Robyn, who was giving Dare a smug look.
"Whatd'ya know, it worked like a charm," Robyn snarked as Dare took off her helmet, who rolled her eyes.
"Yes, but if you think that's going to get you off the hook, you have another think coming," Dare replied, and Robyn chuckled. Dare then smiled, a strange sight on the ONI agent in Qrow's opinion, and she added, "But we did good. The Cartographer is ours, and with it whatever the Covenant wanted. For now, at least."
"How soon until Covenant reinforcements arrive?" Johnson asked, stowing away his shotgun behind his back's magnetic holster.
"The brass thinks it's still a couple hours out. Hopefully, it'll be enough time for our AIs to get as much data as possible from the Cartographer before we blow it to Hell."
"We're destroying it?" Vine asked, a hint of remorse entering his voice, and Dare nodded.
"Yes. The Covenant wanted this place so badly that they were willing to die to defend it," she pointed out. "They're going to come back to reclaim it, so we're going to deny them this asset completely."
"A shame to destroy this grand place, but I understand the logic," Vine admitted. He then stood up straight and asked, "Do you need anything else from us?"
"Yes, for you to get inside the Pelican as soon as it touches down," Dare replied, giving a sharp glare towards the still unrepentant Robyn Hill who merely shrugged in response.
"I think we've saved the day as much as we can here, so no complaints from me," Robyn said, prompting Qrow to chuckle.
"Yeah, sure," Dare responded. Spotting the needler still strapped to Qrow's hip, she added, "By the way, you'll need to turn over any captured Covenant weapons for research."
Gron looked somewhat annoyed, almost angered, at that declaration, but Qrow shrugged and replied, "Eh, figured that was going to happen, anyway."
As he gave his needler one last inspection, with the others doing the same for their own captured Covenant equipment, Qrow spotted Abby slowly reaching her hand towards the podium as curiosity fully captured her. He called out, "Abby, you good?"
This caught Dare's attention, and she turned around to face Abby. She shouted, "Redwall, get away from it now! Don't you dare-!"
But she was too late as Abby's hand touched the orb on the podium. To Qrow's shock, it seemed to rotate in anticipation of her, and as soon as she made contact with the device it emitted a deep, bright-blue glow. Abby recoiled back in surprise, holding her hand up to her chest while the others ran up to join her. Soon the air around the podium became filled with various orbs and circles, and it took a moment for anyone to realize what they were seeing.
"Holy… It's a star map," Robyn breathed out, then pointed to one of the orbs that had a glowing structure icon in the southern hemisphere. "I think that's us on Peponi."
The map zoomed out as she reached her hand towards the point, exposing the solar systems around the Nyame system which was at the heart of the holographic projection. Faint lines began to trail outward, avoiding some systems entirely while going into others.
"What is it…?" Dare couldn't help but ask herself as she pressed on one of the systems that had a line go into it. As the projection zoomed in, they saw the line extend to a gas giant, with another glowing symbol depicting the destination.
"Hold on…go to another system," Qrow requested. Dare seemed to catch on to where he was going and did as he asked, and when they entered the second system they saw another line lead to a moon orbiting a barren world.
"I think I know what it's doing," Qrow realized. "This Cartographer holds the locations of other Forerunner artifacts in the local area."
"No wonder the Covenant wanted it so badly," Johnson added as they watched more and more systems containing Forerunner artifacts be revealed. "Are you getting this?"
"Recording every last detail," Dare revealed, having slipped her helmet back on as soon as the projection revealed itself.
With each system containing a Forerunner presence revealed, Qrow couldn't help but feel ever so smaller. He had known that the Forerunners once ruled the galaxy, but only now was he able to properly capture the true extent of their reign. They were everywhere, with many of the markers on worlds already colonized by humans. He supposed that was another reason why it was a good idea to destroy this place, if only to prevent more colonies from being found and glassed.
Then they got to the last system, which was noticeably distant from the others at a much higher elevation on the galactic plane. The system itself, at first glance, appeared like any other. But then he began to recognize some details. Two dwarf planets of equal size were seen at the outer edge, both of which had lines extending to them. Closer to the single sun at the center of the system were four planets, two made of rock and two giants made of gas.
But Qrow's attention was far more focused on the line pointing straight to the second planet from the sun, which was marked by multiple symbols scattered across very familiar continents, and his breath hitched as he saw its lone, shattered moon rotating around it.
"Oh Gods…" he heard Robyn breathe out. "Is that…? Please tell me that isn't…?"
She was unable to finish the thought, but everyone understood exactly what was going on. Figuring that no one else was going to say anything, Qrow took a deep breath then declared, "That's Remnant."
[~][~]
Hello, everyone! Here is the latest chapter of Dust and Echoes! Special thanks to NaanContributor and Jesse K for their help in bringing this chapter to life.
The Assault on the Cartographer has come to a dramatic close, but the Huntsmen's time on Peponi is far from over. In fact, things are only ramping up as the stakes climb that much higher, not just for them but for Remnant as well. We think you guys are really going to enjoy what comes next.
Now, you guys may be wondering what the M73 LMG is as it isn't a canonical weapon. Well, it is a fanon weapon, but one that was based off of a piece of Halo Reach concept art of a drum magazine-fed light machine gun. Given how 343 Industries has been canonizing cut content or pieces of fanart lately, I figured that I could do the same thing. If you want to know how it looks and functions in the context of my story, look up on YouTube the channel Arthur K and his Halo Reach M73 LMG mod. In short, it's a light machine gun with a high rate of fire and 90 round drum magazine on the bottom.
To answer a few of your guys' questions, I'll start with addressing the response to my decision to incorporate elements of the show, such as Silver Team, the appearance of the Keyes, and Master Chief's face behind the helmet. Regarding Keyes, admittedly I meant to say that I would be envisioning both Jacob and Miranda Keyes as their shows' depictions, but I wasn't going to specify exactly which way it went so that it would be up to audience interpretation. That lack of clarification is on me, and I take responsibility for that. But I do get that the show is controversial to say the least. I enjoyed it for what it was. There were some complaints but, overall, I had a good time. I sincerely felt, and still do, that I could take elements from the show and incorporate them into my story in order to improve it. That decision is not being changed. The world and story of Dust and Echoes is still based 99.99% off of the original games, so if you're expecting or, in some cases, fearing a full arc based off of what the show did, rest assured that will not happen. I'm only using the bits of the show that I liked to add some, in my opinion, needed details for my story.
I think at this point, it's safe to say that I know what I'm doing. You guys are going to have a good time, so just wait and see.
On that note, I once again need to talk about the Guest reviews I have been receiving for Dust and Echoes. Most of them are perfectly fine. But I do not need to receive literally 50 reviews from the same individual submitting or outright demanding the implementation of original characters into my story. It is not wanted, it is not needed, and frankly it got on my nerves very quickly as it was quickly approaching the levels of harassment. I had to give myself two reviews to ask for those submissions to stop, which is something I shouldn't have to do. Not only that, but I also received some Guest reviews that were just outright insults, which were immediately deleted. I do not want to shut off Guest reviews. Doing so, in my opinion, punishes those who are reviewing my story in good faith. But if I keep receiving Guest reviews like this, I will be forced to turn them off. Don't make me do that.
I also must request that you guys don't ask about whether UNSC individuals will find faunus hot or sexually attractive. Frankly, it's beyond the scope of this story's focus. Not to mention, it's just kinda weird. I already got enough of it on the Spacebattles thread, and I'd rather not get it here as well.
Now for the actual individual responses, I'm glad that you guys liked the previous chapter. A lot of thought and careful planning actually went into it. We wanted to have a reason for the Huntsmen to actually stay and fight on Peponi, but in a way that wasn't just because the plot demanded it. Everyone's actions and reactions had to feel in character, and I think we managed to do that.
I also want to, once again, clarify that I do not take requests for my stories. We already have a plan in place that we intend to follow, and a reader asking for something to be added could cut into those plans. Now, sometimes speculation and theorizing from the audience that just so happens to line up with our preexisting plans can and has been considered for implementation. But outright requests for me to do something is not considered. This is my story and I'm telling it the way I want to tell it.
This also is not the place to bring up what happened in canon unless it is in direct response to something I do in my story. Given how I started Dust and Echoes ten years before the start of Volume 1, it is clear that what happened in RWBY canon is probably not going to go down the same way it did this time around.
Also, I cannot answer questions as to the future of this story. You guys will just have to wait and see.
The Huntsmen not exactly following UNSC orders is actually intentional, given how the Huntsmen aren't really military. Consider it a precursor to a later point of conflict that will have to be addressed in the upcoming Integration Arc, which kicks off once the current Covenant Arc is finished.
Yeah, I did consider using a timer, but I decided that using a short-wave radio burst to detonate the IEDs was fine. Wasn't a huge issue.
To clarify something about Sangheili names, the -ai suffix is actually denoted to Sangeili who have risen to the level of Blademaster. This honor denotes them a lot of privileges, such as being able to have children with any woman they desire, married or otherwise, so that the "swordsman genes" can get passed down. Since Ir 'Haramai is a Blademaster, he is able to use said suffix in his name. In contrast, Rteda 'Vasovee is just a Zealot, meaning he uses the -ee suffix denoting that they joined the military.
I do know that the numbers in the Type configurations is when they were officially classified into the UNSC databases, but we felt that was such a minor, minor thing that we didn't really bother with trying to stick by it. So long as they were encountered by the UNSC during the war, we wanted to make it clear to the audience which model we were talking about (because we all know there have been tons of different versions of the same model), so we went with their canon Type designation. I wouldn't focus too hard on it.
Glad you guys liked the Covenant POV. As this chapter showed, we intend to show more of it across the story. It's always good to show the villains POV in any story. Gives them more characterization beyond "nameless enemy that needs to be destroyed".
A big thing about Ozpin is that he keeps secrets, sometimes necessary and sometimes not. Moreover, they just met the UNSC. Realistically, there is no reason any of them would consider sharing their most closely guarded secrets until they are absolutely certain that the other party can be trusted. An example can be found in a lot of Halo fanfiction where the Master Chief, or any Spartan for that matter, gives what amounts to an exposition dump to their new allies that includes a lot of secrets that, under no circumstances, would ever be divulged. My focus is keeping the characters as in-character as possible. If they wouldn't tell someone something unless they either absolutely have to or have gained enough trust in the other party to tell them said secret, I'm not going to have them divulge it.
I use logic in my stories as a guideline. When necessary, I do bend it for the needs of my story. Besides, it's not like the real world we live in operates entirely off of logic at times. Just look at what's happening to Twitter right now. Nothing logical is happening over there. But on that same note, I do try to make it so that what happens in my story does make sense. Maybe not perfect sense, but this isn't a 100% hard science fiction story.
Regarding Miranda Keyes' parents, that isn't actually a fan theory I'm pulling from. It's actually canon. It was canonized back in Halo Reach through Halsey's journal.
Regarding Master Chief's face, the argument of "let's not see his face" works in the context of a first person shooter. Particularly in the Bungie days when the game developers didn't particularly care about giving Chief any real characterization beyond "awesome guy who shoots good and gives one liners on occasion." In Halo CE to Halo 3, Chief was meant to be an audience avatar in the same vein as Doomguy from the first two Doom games, so not seeing his face was perfectly acceptable as it allowed the players to imagine themselves as him. But this isn't a video game. This is a story, where Master Chief is his own character. With that in mind, it wouldn't make sense to make him the only Spartan we see without a face. It would be incredibly awkward and stand out, particularly since there isn't really an in-universe reason for him to never take off his helmet. Darth Vader has to have his helmet on at all times, otherwise he'll die. The Mandalorian has a religious reason for not taking off his helmet whenever possible, but they still have a face. Chief, more importantly, doesn't have the same reasons they do, so when he's not on duty he's going to take off his helmet.
Let us know what you guys think. If any of you have a TV Tropes account, any assistance in updating the page would be greatly appreciated. We hope you enjoy!
