Flight of the Phoenix: Book 2

Plot Summary
The Spartan IIIs of Delta Company have established themselves as a powerful military force. Phoenix Team is at their head, blazing an appearance of every boy's dream: courage, honor, skill. But behind the shadows, their true faces will be realized, as they struggle to uncover a plot behind the use of ancient technology, and the purpose behind their very existence.

Prologue
1013 Hours, March 26th, 2580 (UNSC Military Calendar)

The Spartan sprinted across the flat desert, plasma bolts thudding out from the ridge to either miss or slap harmlessly against his shields. With a mighty leap he soared in to a foxhole, landing right beside several ODSTs.

"Welcome to the party, sir!" Staff Sergeant Dmitri "Zaichata" Zaitsev said, cradling his 99D-S3 sniper rifle.

"Good to see you, Zaichata." The Spartan said. "How you holding up?"

"Fairly well, sir, aside from those bastards trying to kill us. We could use your help." Dmitri said, slapping a new magazine in to place.

"Don't worry, Marine. Phoenix is on the job."

Master Chief Petty Officer Wings-D339 leapt out of the foxhole and sprinted towards one a few hundred meters away. A particle beam passed right between his legs, heating the sand to red-hotness. Another dive landed him in the hole, right next to another Spartan.

She sighed. "Things aren't what they used to be, are they, sir?"

Wings nodded. "Aye, it used to be us sitting pretty in the ridges."

Itzia-D102 poked her head up for a peek, then ducked down as carbine rounds hit her shields.

"We're losing men fast. Their positions on the ridge afford them a clear view of the close foxholes, so we can't get in there.  Good thing they only seem to have the three snipers, or else they'd gotten you."

Wings lay back for a moment. They'd been fighting for almost a week now, with little sleep in between the bouts of violence. His brain was nearing its limit, and being strained more and more every hour. And reinforcements were days away.

"To old friends?"

Itzia turned to look at him. "No, to family."

Yes, Wings thought. Things have changed.

Chapter 1: Demands
1000 Hours, April 2nd, 2570 (UNSC Military Calendar)

Wings stood at attention, the customary feeling of armor gone, replaced with a dress uniform. The day was warm and humid, not at all fitting for the mood. He stood in the middle of the front row, between Hal-D683 and Nat-D5795. It had been one week since the Battle for Mars, in which almost four thousand humans had given their lives. The Covenant had paid dearly for it, losing nearly their entire invading force. Delta Company Spartans had played a vital role in the battle. Twelve total teams of Deltas had fought on Mars, and only lost one member.

That was why they were here today. Carol-D2053 was killed by several plasma grenades by surprise, just before the Interspecies Union fleet had arrived and blown the Covenant out of the system. Her casket was the only one at the memorial today, the funeral service having been scheduled last. Wings had made sure that no press would be there, as he didn't want to make this a public thing. The truth was out now, everyone knew Spartans could die; they were just a lot damn harder to kill. Admiral Andrew Gering had asked if he could attend, but was politely turned down. So the funeral service was private, and all fifty-three Spartans that had fought on Mars were assembled in ranks, with Phoenix, Hawk, and Badger teams in the front.

As the priest finished the prayer, Wings and Nat strode forward and carefully folded the Spartan III Delta Company flag, consisting of the standard UNSC crest, modified with a spear and an old Greek sword crossing behind the eagle. Underneath them all was the silhouette of a rounded shield, with the words "One life for many" sewn underneath it. Taking the folded flag, Wings carried it to the only family Carol had ever truly known: her team. Hal took it solemnly,.

Wings took his place back in line next to Nat, and called out: "Seven gun salute!"

Seven Spartans, each one from a different team and holding new BR60 Battle Rifles set to single shot, stepped forward.

"Ready!" The seven Spartans raised the rifles. The casket began its descent in to the ground.

"Aim!" They aimed down the scopes.

"Fire!" The shots echoed off the buildings.

They repeated the gesture twice more, the casket gave a soft bump as it hit the bottom, the lowering device was removed, and a silence descended. Each Spartan then stepped forward and dumped a single shovelful of dirt in to the hole until it was full. Rio-D973, another member of Hawk, marched forward and set Carol's Mk. VII helmet in to a special slot on the tombstone. A quiet click was heard, which was a mechanism that would grip the helmet, ensuring that no one would steal it. That done, she stepped back in to her rank.

"Deltas, dismissed!" Wings ordered, and each Spartan went their own way. They all lingered for a while, not saying anything. But eventually, team by team, began drifting away. Hawk stayed, and Itzia moved towards them. She stopped as a hand gripped her shoulder.

"Don't." Zero said. "This is their time." Itzia nodded silently, glanced one more time at the three remaining members of Hawk Team, and followed her teammates.

X mumbled, mostly to himself, "Man, they have the worst of luck." They were, of course, out of earshot by now.

"Watch it, Spartan." Zero growled, and X stiffened. Zero didn't wasn't a great leader, but she had an amazing Sergeant's voice.

"I'm just saying, sir. They're the only team to have lost more than one member, and both of them by surprise."

"He's got a point, Zero." Wings said as they reentered the city and headed for the barracks. They'd be heading back to New Quebec tomorrow.

The team was silent as they marched in to their barracks room and got down to the business of weapons upkeep. Every Spartan needs something to get their mind off death today, Wings thought, feeling the weight of his MCPO insignia clearly.

1220 Hours, April 4th, 2570 (UNSC Military Calendar)

"Welcome home, Chief." Ezekiel-254 said. "I trust your hiatus was pleasant?"

"To a point, sir." Wings drew in a breath. "We lost Carol."

Ezekiel's jaw tightened. "I see." He said flatly. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"With respect, Hawk needs the sentiment more than I do, sir."

"Very well. Dismissed, Chief."

Wings saluted and went to join his team, who he'd sent off in another direction. He jogged to catch up, and they all walked to their destination together.

The bunker doors seemed to be slightly more overgrown by jungle vegetation than last time he'd been here, but the keypad was still operable. Wings punched in the code, and the titanium door hissed and slid open.

"Welcome back, sirs." A voice said over the speakers, laced with artificial tones.

"Thank you, Element." Wings said. Element was the bunker's security AI, programmed by Peec with the best counter-intrusion routines.

The walk to their bunk room was only paused by a long, but fast, elevator ride.

Their bunk room was fairly plain, made up of five Spartan sized beds, and two weapon lockers and one footlocker for each bed. At the center of the room was a holo-table.

As the team placed their gear in the respective places, Wings went to holo-table and activated it. Five different holographic pads materialized and floated to each Spartan.

"New orders from ONI." Wings said, tapping in his code on the solid hologram. "We're going to be split for a while. Zero, you've got a sniping mission with 'Antinr, Linda-058, and Dmitri Zaitsev." He paused. "You know him, right?"

Zero nodded. "He was on Mars. Damned good sniper.  I like him."

"Good." Wings turned to X. "You're going on assignment with Tom-B292 and Lucy-B091.  Apparently they need a demolitions expert."

"The Lone Survivor and the Mute. Will do."

"Itzia, Doctor Halsey sent for you. No idea why." Wings' eyes flicked from the hologram to Itzia. Phoenix had secretly asked for Halsey's help in curing Wings, who was afflicted with a disease that randomly shut down an organ in his body at random times. It had resulted from Itzia herself directly injecting Cell QX518-I53PR in to Wings, which did speed up the affected person's neural processes, but had uncontrollable side effects.

"Peec, you're on further down time. Apparently ONI has no use for you."

"That's alright, I have no use for ONI." Peec mumbled. "Some work needs done here, anyway."

"I know. I've left orders for you with Element.  Aaand I'm on down time, too.  I however, will be-" Wings tossed the datapad back towards the center of the holo-table. A garbage can appeared and swallowed it. "Traveling."

Zero yawned. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm gonna crash. Gotta wake up early tomorrow."

The rest agreed, and they all fell asleep withing a half hour.

0830 Hours, April 6th, 2570 (UNSC Military Calendar)

Lieutenant Commander Spartan 116 marched through the streets of the city. Vadam Keep towered behind him, easily overshadowing the buildings around it.

Spartan spotted the landing pad he was looking for, and approached a Sangheili, who was carrying a fusion core.

"Morning, Ipla. The Pelican due?"

Ipla 'Ihpor set down the core and went to his nearby Phantom. "Any moment now. We just got the message that D339's dropship is on the way down."

116 turned his eyes to the sky and was able to make out a fast moving dot. The Pelican dropped fast, but slowed as it approached the landing pad.

Wings leapt out fifteen meters above the ground, and landed slightly crouched on the metal landing pad. He straightened hurriedly and saluted the Lieutenant Commander.

"Master Chief Petty Officer Spartan D339 reporting as ordered, sir!" Wings said.

The Lieutenant Commander returned the salute, and let one eyebrow raise. "Three years in active service and already a Master Chief?"

"Technically eight, if you want to count the Battle for Zeta-9."

"Still, impressive." 116 said, and began the walk back to the Vadam Keep. "I admit I was perplexed when I heard you were making a visit to Sanghelios."

"I'm just as perplexed finding out you're here, sir."

"Does it have anything to do with that structure you and your Spartans found?"

"Of course it does. I suppose that's why you're here?" Wings knew exactly why the Lieutenant Commander wanted to know more about the structure. Several years ago the Lieutenant Commander had been hit by the Judicator's Gavel Rifle during a mission to collect some of the Brute's DNA. This had resulted in infecting the Spartan with a virus that prevented cellular regeneration and acted as a blood thinner. The last time Wings had seen the Lt. Cmdr., the older Spartan had been shot in the hand and almost bled out from it. Apparently his body had refused to accept a cloned arm, so his right one had been replaced by a prosthetic limb.

Almost a year ago Phoenix Team and a few Sangheili had stumbled upon a Precursor structure. Within it was a room that could seemingly heal any malady. The only problem was that it had to know that a certain attribute of the person was a malady.

"Nice weapons." Wings said as they walked in to the Spartan's designated room at Vadam Keep.

The Lieutenant Commander followed the Delta's gaze to several cases, wherein lay his weapons. There was, of course, an MA7C, but there were a couple of odd additions to his armament. "Prototype and made with Forerunner tech. Got the SRSS Nyegen 48 Magnum, and a C58 Phoenix shotgun, no relation to your team."

"I know. Never heard of it."

Another raised eyebrow. Thank whoever made polarized visors that 116 could make any facial expression he wanted, and everyone would be none the wiser.

Of course, from what he'd heard about D339, the Spartan would probably pick out 116's eyebrow raise somehow.

"Odd, considering you're the one with the expert computer hacker."

"One, he doesn't tell me everything he finds. Two, I don't really care what the UNSC is researching as far as weapons go, as I don't plan on taking them out."

"Fair enough."

1400 Hours, April 6th, 2570 (UNSC Military Calendar)

Ipla kept the Phantom steady as the two Spartans floated down the gravity lift, then turned and sped off back to Vadam Keep.

Professor Anders was talking to a couple of other scientists who'd just brought up an artifact, apparently questioning them about it and taking notes. She looked up as Wings and the Lieutenant Commander walked up.

"Afternoon."

"Professor Anders." 116 said, holding out a hand. Anders shook it and Wings' hand as well.

"Where's Halsey?" D339 asked.

Ander's jaw tightened slightly. She and Halsey had always been at odds with one another, but seemed to have set most of it aside while working on this project.

"She's down in that healing room. Seems someone managed to interface with an AI in it."

Wings nodded. "Not an AI. 'Comprehensive database', in its terms." And he walked off.

116 could only shrug as Anders muttered: "Sometimes that Spartan creeps me out."



"And what would it take for me to access your files?"

"A test. That is all.  However, I can only test one organic at a time.  That is how I was programmed."

Halsey turned as she heard a hiss, and saw Wings behind her, slipping his helmet on to a magnetic holding on his back. Spartan 116 was coming up the stairs behind D339, doing the same with his helmet.

"Having fun with the database, Doctor?"

The hologram in the center of the room was humanoid in form but possessed no real features to distinguish it. Its head turned towards Wings.

"Ah, the one I was testing. It seems you have succeeded as well." A hologram of Mars appeared, with the summit of Olympus Mons smoking and a quarter of Kennedy Space Center in ruins. "Better than I could have hoped."

"If you did have feelings, that is." Wings said. Something in his voice doesn't sound right, 116 thought. ''He sounds almost... strained. Exactly how many humans died that day?''

"This is true. I assume you want answers to your questions?" The database asked.

"Of course."

Holograms popped up, labeling all the equipment that had been used to create Delta Company: MJOLNIR armor, augmentation syringes, 3000 six year old children, even the instructors and handlers.

"As you know, the Spartans for Delta Company were conscripted in 2555 under the Spartan III program. They were to be a new generation of Spartans; not suicide soldiers, but five-man armies.  What was not given was the why behind it.

"In 2556 a small group of Spartans encountered a Forerunner force which was attempting to unleash the Flood. If Delta Company had been recruited a year later, then this explanation would have sufficed.  But it doesn't.  Unless,"  The database raised a holographic finger. "You factor ONI in to the equation.

"In 2542 ONI received unconfirmed reports of an ancient space-faring race that had reached a trans-sentient level of technology. They called them the 'Precursors.'"

"You."

"Technically yes, although my makers called themselves by a different name. Anyway, these reports were confirmed when a Spartan recovered a Precursor artifact that could create time shifts.  I cannot tell you the details of this as I have been inactive for too long, but it would appear that the Spartan and a ship's entire crew made a jump from 2547 to 2552, during the First Battle of Earth.

"This caused the upper echelons of ONI to worry if the Precursors were returning. The final death count after the Human-Covenant War ended sealed the deal."

An audio file started playing. Wings recognized it from Chairman Kevin Locke's revealing of the Spartan III program.

"Our population has been ravaged, our infrastructure destroyed. We have all lost something during this war, but the fight is not quite over.  The Covenant still exists, and to fight it we need an army.  But we do not have the manpower to place a thousand Marines against one army, and so we need a new kind of warrior.  We need a handful of soldiers who can do what several million Marines cannot."  The audio clip ended.

"This is a good justification for your creation, but it is not the only one. The return of the Forerunners raised many concerns.

"And your Office of Naval Intelligence found out that they plan on returning.

"And so, around 2548, they began genetic engineering of fetuses, maximizing their DNA for Spartan augmentation procedures. The discovery of Forerunner processing technology only made things easier: it only cost half as much to manufacture one MJOLNIR suit as it used to, and the cost of creating the augmentations was cut by three quarters.  This has made creating Spartans fairly easy, only limited by the time it takes to grow a human being and train them to become soldiers.

"So now you know: You were built by Forerunner technology to end a struggle that would otherwise rage for many decades, and would likely end with the extinction of the human race. Delta Company is the one thing that can keep the tide turned against to Covenant."

"So we really were created just to fight the Covenant?"

"Not to continue fighting it. To end the fight." The humanoid hologram cocked its head. "I'm detecting an incoming transmission. For D339 only."

Wings turned to the Lieutenant Commander. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all." 116 said a bit stiffly, and walked out with Halsey following him.

The instant they were gone the humanoid hologram transformed and became a skinny being, with a thin, curved neck and an elaborate crown. It sat on what seemed to be a hovering chair.

"Destroying that fleet at Mars was not very effective for welcoming in peace, Spartan." The Prophet of Intuition said flatly. "The Judicator has become enraged, demanding that we come back in force. Thankfully we don't have that kind of fleet now, and I reminded him that he struck first."

"You need to keep a tighter rein on your pets, then."

A soft chuckle came from the fairly young San'Shyuum. "Do not think of him as a pet. He is very smart for a Jiralhanae, even if he is still barbaric."

Wings nodded. "How goes the peace work?"

Intuition sighed. "Not well. The Unggoy and Huragok are quite happy to go back to peaceful ways, but the Kig-Yar and Jiralhanae are up in arms about the idea." He fondled his dangling wattle. "I'm just glad that the Prophet of Bliss is so good at his work, else they'd have beheaded the three of us Prophets. How goes the effort on your end?"

"Decent, I suppose. The UNSC's major problem, besides you, are the countless numbers of Insurrectionist groups that have sprung up.  I'm trying to keep the Deltas assigned to fighting the Covenant, rather than taking down the Innies.  Innies go down, then the UNSC focuses all its attention on crushing you.  And that wouldn't be good for business on your end."

Intuition nodded. "Very good. I shall-"  Wings held up a hand and turned to slowly face the entrance to the healing room.

The Lieutenant Commander was standing just inside it, staring up at Spartan D339 and the hologram of the Prophet of Intuition. His face was locked in an expression of extreme anger.

"Shit." Wings said under his breath and turned back to Intuition. "I'll talk to you later." Intuition's hologram disappeared.

Spartan 116's face did not move a muscle as his eyes followed Wings, who approached the older Spartan slowly, but obviously believing he was in command of the situation.

"We need to talk." 116's voice came out in a relatively controlled, but angry, manner.

"No. We really don't." Wings stated calmly, and brushed right by the Lieutenant Commander, stepping through the doorway.

The Lieutenant Commander's teeth ground against each other, and it took a couple minutes to compose himself before following.



Wings walked in to his quarters, thinking. Surprisingly, the reasoning made sense. They'd always been told that they had to fight the Covenant, but the Deltas had never known they were made to fight the Covenant to a standstill.

How many Delta Spartan lives will that take? Wings wondered. This is ONI we're talking about. His mind raced, analyzing the scene from every possible angle. He stood and went to the door as the sound of booted footsteps reached his ears. The Delta XO moved to block the doorway as the Lieutenant Commander stepped up to it, only the door separating them.

"You've got a lot of explaining to do." 116 said, his voice flat and emotionless.

Wings' thought of everything that could happen if he explained himself now, and saw what would happen.

"Not to you. Not now." He said and pressed the emergency lock.

The magnetically sealing door slid down faster than even a Spartan could move, effectively locking Spartan 116 out and D339 in.

Wings walked to a chair and sat down after taking off his armor. The Lieutenant Commander definitely didn't trust him now, but that wasn't D339's problem. He'd be gone the next day, and Itzia would arrive.

The MCPO leaned back in the chair. Spartan 116 couldn't prove anything, but he'd have the rest of the Spartans watching his team carefully. There was one on his team that wouldn't be under constant scrutiny, however...

Chapter 2: Hunters
1114 Hours, April 7th, 2570 (UNSC Military Calendar)

Zero hopped out of the Pelican and strode over to her temporary team, assembled in one corner of the hangar.

'Antinr acknowledged her with a nod, then went back to replacing a fuel cell in his particle beam rifle. Linda-058 was about ten meters away, conversing with John-117.

Lance Corporal Dmitri Zaitsev, who Zero had nicknamed Zaichata, meaning leveret, stood and saluted. "Sir! Good to see you again!"

Zero returned the salute. "Nice to see you, too, Zaichata."

Linda finished her conversation with John and marched back to the rest of the group. Zero saluted.

"Chief Petty Officer Spartan D576, reporting for duty, sir!"

The older Spartan returned the salute, then got right to the point, addressing all three of the other snipers.

"We're going to be dropped a few hundred kilometers from our target: a small Covenant camp. Only about four hundred foot soldiers there."

Dmitri whistled. "A hundred of them to one of us? Why not just drop a HAVOK on them an be done with it?"

Linda ignored the interruption. "The point of this mission is to see if we can teach the Covenant that the UNSC can kill an army with a few soldiers without being discovered. That's why they chose us.  We'll be taking shot from anywhere between a hundred meters to five kilometers.  Empty a clip and move.  The day only ends when all four hundred are dead.  ONI is furnishing us with M6C SOCOM pistols, M7S SMGs, and the new M80667 Anti-Armor Sniper Rifle.  Designed for use against infantry, it's silent and leaves no bullet trail.  The Covenant may see their buddies dying, but they won't see or hear us."

She handed one of the new snipers to Zero and Dmitri, then held one out for 'Antinr to take. The Sangheili warrior shook his head and patted his particle beam rifle.

"This will do me fine."

"We need to be stealthy, 'Antinr." Linda said. "They'll be able to trace the particle beam back to you."

'Antinr twisted a dial on his weapon. "This is a new particle beam rifle. It has a low power setting that will still do enough damage to kill, but the beam is only visible for half of a millisecond.  They won't be able to see it, but it may take two hits to kill a brute."

"Fair enough."

A voice over the PA said: "Snipers, report to Lieutenant Derick in hangar B2. Repeat, Snipers..."

"Well, 'snipers', let's do this." Zero said, and they marched off to the Pelican.