RP:Beyond Veil's Azure

§ Beyond Veil's Azure § A COLLABORATIVE CREATIVE ROLEPLAY INTEGRATING COMMUNITY AND CREATIVE STORYTELLING    The roleplay has begun! Anyone may still join. Please feel free to join, and then to write as the roleplay continues. Contact RelentlessRecusant  if there's any questions.



IN EVERY WAR, THERE ARE MULTIPLE STRATEGIES. Attack and siege. Defense and retreat. Final stands and glorious battles. These have all been tried before. By the UNSC and the Covenant, by the Forerunners and Flood before them. War has never been waged any other way, until now.

It starts, a rogue scarlet spark pulsating in the midnight dark. It swells, engorging with blood and strength, drawing together her countless, vast armies. She is a depthless infinity, a boundless expanse, and existence in herself, alpha and omega held in her hands. Velvet darkness descends, slaying the graceful dawn, suffocating the stars.

This is a story of an ending of an age. How darkness overthrows two hundred millennia of humanity, turns back the clock. This is the end. The twilight of the UNSC. It starts now. THE YEAR IS 2594 — four decades after the end of the Human-Covenant War. The War was long ago. We healed from those scars. Human ambition has leaped across the stars, and we have spread thousands of colonies across the stars, scattering our seed around the galaxy. We are a wildfire, and with every year comes another breakthrough. Medical science has saved countless lives from disease. Governmental power has been returned to the civilian population from the military dictatorship. The rich grow richer, but supercorporations make the necessities of life available even to the poor. We all prosper.

WE BEAT SWORDS INTO PLOWSHARES. We are the friends and economic partners of the Covenant. We are safe. Our heroes, the soldiers of the War, now rest with their grandchildren at home. We are at peace.

THE ENEMY BIDES HER TIME. With every victory, we lose. With every breakthrough, she breaks through us. She sabotages our society, falling us to our knees. She has waited in the dark of dusk too long. NIGHT FALLS ON HUMANITY. THE END IS NOW,

BEYOND THE VEIL'S AZURE.

Introduction
"Beyond Veil's Azure" is a tentative collaborative roleplay written by RelentlessRecusant and possibly co-written in collaboration with other administrators. More information to follow. :) Specific information is not available at the time, but interested participants may for the interim contact me at my talk page or my email address (relentlessrecusant@gmail.com). It may be likely that Dragonclaws and / or Rotaretilbo (both administrators of Halo Fan Fiction Wikia) will have moderator positions.

Plotline Background
BEYOND VEIL'S AZURE is the second epoch of the Halo continuity. The Human-Covenant War and the Halo installations, our feuds with the Covenant; all this and more has been forgotten. It is peace within the veil.

This is the next generation of Halo. We star new characters, new heroes, a new epic.

The UNSC Defense Force is now truly a defense force, a territorial force that patrols our colonies. Long forgotten are the titanic weapons and gargantuan vehicles of the War. We forget that we once spilled our blood to ensure that humanity's tender flame was kindled. Our diminished, withered armies and navies do not care for warfare; we have not fought a single battle for nearly forty years. We keep our homes safe from terrorists, from rebels, from pirates. Our special forces are no longer the SPARTANs, those titans that fought the Covenant and shed their blood on our soil. We now have the Myrmidons, the second generation of SPARTANs; highly capable child soldiers with advanced augmentations and training that specifically perform counterterrorism actions. We do not wage war anymore with any armies.

We ask you to fill the rosters of our new humanity. Characters are specifically requested to be UNSC special warfare operators, either in the UNSC Army Ranger Corps, in UNSC Force Reconnaissance, in the UNSC Navy Naval Special Warfare, or in the Office of Naval Intelligence's elite Myrmidon next-generation SPARTAN company. We are highly interested in skilled writers and roleplayers that will make very unique characters, and we are definitely amenable to accepting highly unique and interesting civilian characters or those from other branches of service.

As nighttime draws its cloak across us, there will be warfare, of shed blood, of dying worlds, dying stars. This will be an action-oriented roleplay (RP), featuring both detailed counterterrorism and atrocious large-scale battles. The UNSC special forces fulfill a unique role in the UNSC Defense Force that gives them maximum capability to be involved.

Please speak to RelentlessRecusant about your characters; he offers an opportunity to collaborate with authors that have especially unique characters, and is highly willing to collaborate to form FOTM-grade articles that may be competitively nominated in the future for the Fanon of the Month. This is intended to be a talented and creative project, and we all look forward to the possibilities.

Playable Factions
This is a list of special forces factions that we encourage roleplayers to create characters in and to actively participate in the main plotline, which revolves around the operators of Task Force 51 in their counterinsurgency operations and their unconventional actions to follow... We are highly interested, however, in extremely unique characters and welcome characters that are not limited to these SF units, especially civilians.


 * UNSC Ranger Corps (UNSC Army)
 * The Rangers are the principal reaction force of the UNSC Special Operations Command. At the battalion level, they are an integrated, flexible joint strike force integrating forces across the operational continuum; combining elite light infantry, mechanized forces, aviation assets, indirect fires, and support elements into a singular high-mobility task force that is prepared to reflexively react to hostile conditions in the battlespace. Ranger forces actively support the UNSCSOCOM mission and Ranger infantrymen support operators of Task Force 51.


 * UNSC Naval Special Warfare (UNSC Navy)
 * UNSC Naval Special Warfare (NAVSPECWAR) is a tier-one UNSC Special Operations Command division, and is primarily an elite military counterterrorism and counterinsurgency force. While the actions of the Human-Covenant War have forced NAVSPECWAR to perform more mainstream roles in the expansion of the strategic options of UNSC theater commanders, where NAVSPECWAR participated in special reconnaissance and strategic strikes, with the advent of the War's end, NAVSPECWAR has returned to its more traditional counterterrorism and counterinsurgency roles, and NAVSPECWAR Six operators are a core force of Task Force 51.


 * UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance (UNSC Marine Corps)
 * UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance (FORCE RECON) is a conventional special operations force (SOF) of the UNSC Special Operations Command, and during the Human-Covenant War, participated in special operations across the battlespace spectrum, performing deep reconnaissance to expand the intelligence assets of the theater commander and providing direct action to surgically obstruct the operations of the hostile contingent and limit the tactical options of the enemy commander. FORCE RECON operators field counterinsurgency roles in Task Force 51.


 * UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN (UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence)
 * II Detachment ("SPARTAN-IIs")
 * The SPARTAN-IIs of UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN, Detachment II manifest themselves in the form of a single, three-person team in Task Force 51. Highly experienced in covert operations, sabotage, and causing general havoc behind enemy lines, the IIs of Azure Team were, and are still, hailed as "the heroes of Minorca".


 * III Detachment ("SPARTAN-IIIs")
 * The SPARTAN-IIIs of UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN, Detachment III are a company-level asset in Task Force 51. They are highly experienced shock troops with counterinsurgency experience, and are the mentors of the younger Myrmidons.


 * IV Detachment ("Myrmidons")
 * The Myrmidons of UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN, Detachment IV are a company-level asset in Task Force 51. Myrmidon special warfare operators are principal operators on all counterinsurgency and counterterrorism operations performed by TF51, and are characterized by their expeditious speed and surgical efficiency, and Myrmidon operations are high-risk direct action missions that exactingly neutralize an enemy's strategic options, disabling rather than destructive, leaving the enemy commander vulnerable to conventional UNSC infantry forces.

Friendly UNSC Forces

 * Task Force 51 (TF51): UNSC joint strike force that integrates elite operational detachments from every uniformed service in UNSCSOCOM and strategic intelligence from the UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence to surgically cauterize increasing concentrations of destructive insurgent activity in the UNSC Outer Rim (the "Borderlands"). Task Force 51 responsibilities principally include counterinsurgency and counterproliferation (CP) of weapons of mass destruction, but also include counterterrorism (CT), psychological operations (PSYOPS), foreign internal defense (FID) and unconventional warfare (UW) to raise indigenous forces against rebellion, and civil-military operations (CMO) to align indigenous forces to the UNSC cause and to obstruct rebel or terrorist recruiting.
 * Kawika Son: Decorated former NAVSPECWAR Six operator that participated in notable combat actions, such as the Battle of Cambridge, the Battle of the Ark, and the hunt for the Forerunner Dreadnaught. Currently holds rank of Vice Admiral (VADM, O-9) with the UNSC Navy / UNSC Special Operations Command, and serves as the senior director of the Myrmidon Program. Because of the major deployment of Myrmidon squadrons to TF51, he also serves as the commander of Task Force 51, and Admiral Son has been principally responsible for TF51 and the majority of UNSC counterinsurgency operations in the Outer Rim.
 * UNSC Counterforce Task Force (CTF): UNSC Navy / UNSC Medical Corps noncombatant task force attached to UNSCSOCOM responsible for the consequence management of the deployment of weapons of mass destruction (WMD), such as thermonuclear capabilities or chem-biol capabilities, or else weapons of mass effect (WME), such as high-yield explosives or the usage of orbital weapons. CTF specialists are often attached to Task Force 51 counterproliferation (CP) operations, where they are expected to suppress, neutralize, and defuse active WMDs and also counterterrorism (CT) operations involving the threat of WMD or WME deployment.
 * UNSC Beyond Veil's Azure: UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence / UNSC Navy stealth frigate currently on reconnaissance-in-force deployment in the Sagittarius Arm, tens of thousands of light-years towards the Galactic Core, far away from the UNSC Outer Rim and Task Force 51's counterinsurgency operations.
 * Kimberly Ivy Blackburn: Former special warfare operator of the UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence, Section Three, and the integral force of PATRIOT / FORECAST. Now forty years old, ten years ago, a highly controvertible arrangement between SPARTAN-091, and Beah Schore, the UNSC Defense Council has resulted in her voluntary retirement from UNSC Special Operations Command. Nepotistic connections with Schore have granted her a position at Harvard University, Department of Stem Cell & Regenerative Biology and Harvard Stem Cell Institute at Cambridge, Massachusetts in Sherman-Fairchild Biochemistry, where she is a Whitney Hayes postdoctoral fellow. She was the paradigm behind the Myrmidon initiative, and was the first demonstration that a human embryo can be manipulated through a chemical biology platform of small-molecule chemical probes, and that combinatorial teratogenesis and postnatal manipulation favorably promotes militarily-useful biological traits. She was an experimental platform for the experimental in utero usage of SCARLET, a Flood mimetic comprised of small-molecule compounds that in vitro is a mutagen and teratogen that promotes the extremely rare expression of quasi-Flood characteristics in cultured cell lines in tissue culture. Recently, the dissection of the molecular mechanisms behind Flood physiology has led to significant advances in stem cell biology and regenerative medicine, and the UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence is interested in the harnessing of particular Flood characteristics, such as augmented cellular regeneration through non-focal telomeric activity, and also modified myocyte physiology, which have been of investigation in the Myrmidon Program. She is a noncombatant on Earth without combat capability.
 * UNSC Reconnaissance Aviation Expeditionary Force (RAVEN): UNSC Army special aviator unit, operating fixed-wing and rotary aviation assets in support of UNSC special operations forces. RAVEN is a support force of Task Force 51, and has logistical and deployment responsibilities in support of UNSC special forces.

Principal Plotlines

 * "Task Force 51" (Midgard): UNSC special forces counter an onslaught of highly intensive terrorist and rebel activities on Midgard, a planet in the Outer Rim. Substantial deaths of UNSC civilians and guerrilla attrition of UNSC soldiers stationed on the planet have led to the popular labeling of Midgard as the "new Iraq" or the "new Charybdis IX", and the inability of UNSC forces to put an end to the killings has led to the frustration of many in the UNSC civilian populace and the UNSC military. Task Force 51, led by VADM Kawika Son, is now the main player in UNSC counterinsurgency operations on Midgard. Hundreds of thousands of civilians have been killed after thousands of small rebel and terrorist activities; guerilla attacks, hostage events, bombings. However, a rare few suspect that this is only the beginning of something far larger. It is inevitable that actions on Midgard will climax as the civilian and military casualties mount. ( Principal plotline )
 * "Arms Exchange": The freighter Arcturus was seized in orbit over Midgard by UNSC Navy forces, yielding in the capture of tens of thousands of firearms and explosives; enough weapons to sustain an entire infantry brigade. Even more disturbingly, the weapons are marked with the insignia of Jennings & Rall, a pre-eminent UNSC corporation. There is an ongoing UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence investigation into the subterfuge of the Arcturus and J&R and thoughts lead to a dangerous place; in these imperiled times, trust none.
 * "Deep Reconnaissance": In 2554, the UNSC Beneath Shoreless Waves, a guided missile frigate (FFG) of the UNSC Navy, found a Forerunner construct on Carinae-312 in the NGC 3576 nebula, towards the Galactic Core, which led to the brief but bloody Memory Conflict, almost collapsing the UNSC in a matter of days. However, the discovery of more Forerunner installations beyond the Halos has excited many UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence officers, and a select number of UNSC warships, such as the UNSC Beyond Veil's Azure, have been dispatched on deep reconnaissance missions thousands of light-years away in the Sagittarius or Cygnus Arms of the Milky Way Galaxy under Operation: PURPLE WILLOW. A small Myrmidon team is aboard the UNSC Beyond Veil's Azure, and the Beyond Veil's Azure and its UNSC special forces team are set to reconnoiter the Henize 3-1357 nebula in the ongoing search for Forerunner installations.
 * "Pandora's Box"
 * "A Troubled Home Front": Isolated curious happenstances have coincidentally conflicted with rebel and terrorist activity in the Outer Rim. In 2590, Madeline Son, the daughter of UNSC special forces commanders Kawika Son and Chandler Danial and a UNSC Naval Special Warfare specialist, went missing on a deep reconnaissance in the Cygnus Arm of the galaxy aboard the UNSC Beckon Dusk Forth during reconnaissance of NGC 2359. Intensive search-and-rescue (SAR) and hostage search operations for months have yielded no trace of Madeline nor the Beckon Dusk Forth, and ceremonies for Madeline were held at the Asphodel Meadows Naval Special Warfare Center. Ever since, both Admiral Son and Master Chief Danial have been socially withdrawn and disturbed by the loss of their daughter thousands of light-years from Earth.

Roleplay Locations
''More to come soon. In order to keep the RP principally focused, the beginning of the RP, which features Task Force 51's actions, center on Midgard. Shortly afterwards the RP will become much more freeform and will occur on multiple locations, as per the desire of the roleplayers.''


 * Midgard (11 Draconis System): Please see the actual page for more information. Principal location for the beginning of the roleplay, and host to Task Force 51's counterinsurgency operations.
 * Henize 3-1357: Planetary nebula, the reconnaissance target of the UNSC Beyond Veil's Azure under deep reconnaissance campaign Operation: PURPLE WILLOW, eight thousand-light years from Earth towards the Galactic Core and Sagittarius A*, in the Sagittarius Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy.
 * Cambridge, Earth (Sol System): Home to Harvard University, and home to Kimberly Ivy Blackburn. (non-playable)
 * NGC 2359: Emission nebula, the reconnaissance target of the UNSC Beckon Dusk Forth under deep reconnaissance campaign Operation: PURPLE WILLOW, fifteen thousand-light years from Earth towards the edge of the galaxy, the Cygnus Arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. The UNSC Beckon Dusk Forth and Madeline Son went missing-in-action (MIA) during deep reconnaissance of NGC 2359 in 2590, and two years of intensive UNSC Navy search and rescue (SAR) operations have failed to find any of the UNSC personnel. (non-playable)

Roleplay Characters
Please post characters here :) We encourage users to make characters that are Rangers, NAVSPECWAR, FORCE RECON, SPARTAN, or Myrmidon forces. We are, however, highly interested in extremely unique characters, either in the military or in civilian life. For the beginning of BVA, the plotline will center on Task Force 51 on Midgard. Afterwards, the RP will take a sharp change for the worse (if all goes as planned =P), and conventional UNSC forces, such as naval and infantry forces, will be extensively featured in a very freeform roleplay. =]

Sgt.johnson's characters

 * Lieutenant Colonel Nathaniel White (Rangers) - Secondary support operative for the Cambridge Rangers, he joined the UNSC Army Ranger Corps after requesting an MOS change, and is now the commander of 38/6 Ranger Battalion, leading from the front.
 * SPARTAN-002 (SPECWAR SPARTAN/Task Force 51) - Senior Chief Petty Officer Jamal-002 is known for his harshness and brutality, and his belief that in war, you have to take the gloves off. Being the CQB specialist of Azure Team, Jamal has mastered several martial arts, and enjoys using a shotgun.
 * SPARTAN-019 (SPECWAR SPARTAN/Task Force 51) - Chief Petty Officer Gabriel-019 is known for being one of the best Snipers the UNSC has to offer, right after Jared-091. His favored load out consists of an SRS and an M7 for personal defense.
 * SPARTAN-130 (SPECWAR SPARTAN/Task Force 51) - Chief Petty Officer Helen-130 is the demotions expert for Azure Team, and is known for turning explosives into an art form. Mastering math, she knows exactly how much to use on any form of target, turning things into a masterpiece, or something entirely different.
 * Kyle Davidson (President of HRV Armament Company) - A member of a Colonial Militia on an Outer Ring world, he quickly became intrigued into the design of weapons, and after getting a doctorate in Engineering, he joined the HRV Armament Company. After rising through the ranks of the Research and Development section, he became the CEO of HRV.

RelentlessRecusant's characters
Myrmidon Program (UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN)


 * CPO Eve-005 (Chief Petty Officer, E-7)
 * CMDR Florian-021 (Commander, O-5)
 * PO1 Alyssa-028 (Petty Officer 1st Class, E-6)
 * LTJG Bjorn-047 (Lieutenant Jr. Grade, O-2)
 * PO2 Gordon-055 (Petty Officer 2nd Class, E-5)
 * CAPT Raphael-064 (Captain, O-6)
 * PO2 Daphne-097 (Petty Officer 2nd Class, E-5)

UNSC Naval Special Warfare (UNSC Navy)


 * CPO Quentin Lovejoy (Chief Petty Officer, E-7)

Task Force 51 Command Element (UNSC Special Operations Command)


 * VADM Kawika Son (UNSC Special Operations Command): Commander, Task Force 51 and Commander, Myrmidon Program, strategic commander of Midgard Campaign. Vice Admiral of the UNSC Navy (O-9).
 * LTCOL Mariko (UNSC Marine Corps): Staff Operations Officer (J3) of Task Force 51, ex-FORCE RECON. Lieutenant Colonel of the UNSC Marine Corps (O-4).

Non-interactable


 * Kimberly Ivy Blackburn (Harvard University, Department of Stem Cell & Regenerative Biology): Helen Hay Whitney Postdoctoral Fellow in the Schore Laboratory, research interests include phenotypic effects of ectopically-expressed Flood-mimicking transcription factors and successive exogenous transdifferentiation / reprogramming processes. Master Chief Petty Officer (Ret.) of the UNSC Navy (E-9).
 * Madeline Son (UNSC Naval Special Warfare Group Six): Partial mission history of NGC 2359 deep reconnaissance (DR) campaign of Operation: PURPLE WILLOW in 2590, including the personnel of the UNSC Beckon Dusk Forth and various operators of NAVSPECWAR Six. Lieutenant, Jr. Grade of the UNSC Navy (O-2).

ODST Joshie's Chatacters:

 * Joshua Stevenson (8th Irish Ranger Regiment / Task Force 51) Juliet Company's CO, been with the Regiment for 6 Years.
 * SPARTAN-G024 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51) Team Wolf's leader and one of the Few remaining S-IIIs from that Team, he is a cold calculated Killer.
 * SPARTAN-G094 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51) One of the Last S-IIIs from Team Wolf, is a wizard when it comes to Demolitions.
 * SPARTAN-G173 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51) The last alive member from Team Wolf barring the other two, is the Teams second sniper after Andrew died.
 * Wes Samsung (8th Irish Ranger Regiment / Task Force 51) Member of 3rd Battalions Air Assualt Pilot Platoon.##
 * Vernon Martin (8th Irish Ranger Regiment / Task Force 51) Sniper in Juliet Company.
 * Richard McKay (8th Irish Ranger Regiment / Task Force 51) Sniper in Juliet Company and Grand Nephew of Melissa McKay

Delta Team Curt's characters

 * Colonel Curtis Freeman - UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance. A veteran special forces operator, Freeman has become a seasonded officer within FORCE RECON.
 * Corporal Cosette Freeman - UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance. Daughter of Curtis Freeman and Lilya Moskvina. She has undergoje NAVSPECWAR training and currently serves within FORCE RECON for counterterroism operations on Midgar.
 * Admiral Alexander Bodet - UNSC Chechnya. Aging Admiral of the Human-Covenant War, his ship was found five years ago with 27 crew members in cryostasis after having been lost in late 2551 on the edge of UNSC space. In the changing face of war, he struggles to fit into the modern navy and has to live with the fact he has outlived everyone he has ever known.
 * Tara Delano - Davenport Electronics Director of Internal Computer Infrastructure. A former special forces operator of the UNSC, Delano settled down following her retirement and used her skills in computer technologies to secure a job working with Jennings & Rall as a computer technician for internal computer systems, eventually rising to lead the entire department.
 * Calvin Marks - Ravenwood Solutions Contractor. Former Ranger, Marks joined Ravenwood three years ago to support his family on Atlas, during several contracts he has gone above and beyond to safeguard his fellow contractors and make sure the job is done safely.
 * James Carter - Jennings & Rall Director of Shipping and Logistics (J&R Administrative Division). Director of Logistics for J&R, Carter has always been keen when it came to organization, his gift has landed him in a spot running the entire section of J&R in cuarge of supplying the companies vast number of locations.

Actene's Characters
* See Halo: Beckon Forth Sunrise, a short story written by RelentlessRecusant and approved by Actene, that provides a partial introduction for Actene's charas into BVA :)
 * SPARTAN-G294 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51): Simon-G294 gained infamy as the only SPARTAN to ever betray the UNSC when he deserted the military and murdered a superior officer as a result of the New Africa Incident. After over two decades of being harbored in cryosleep by the Sanghelli, he and fellow SPARTAN Cassandra were awakened and recruited to train the Myrmidons. While mostly inferior when it comes to combat, Simon has proved time and time again that he has an unmatched knack for survival and self-preservation and is not above running from a fight when the odds do not favor him.
 * SPARTAN-G006 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51): Critically wounded during the New Africa Incident, Cassandra-G006 was rescued from certain euthanasia by her rogue comrade Simon and became his reluctant companion as he fled the UNSC. After their stint in cryostasis the pair were recruited to help train the Myrmidons. Like Simon, her combat skills are poor for a SPARTAN but she makes up for this deficiency through her skills as a medic.
 * Agent 2994 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51): A member of ONI's High Priority Assassination Program, the man known by his designation of "2994" grew tired of life in the military and retired to become a civilian engineer. He was drawn back into military life and recruited to train the Myrmidons and has since accepted the name of Apollo to replace his forgotten original.
 * Artemis 2995 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51): The HPA's top agent, Agent 2995 rechristened herself Artemis after her true name was forgotten during the HPA's brutal indoctrination process. In this time of prosperity, she was repurposed to train the Myrmidons and was responsible for the recruitment of fellow agent 2994.
 * SPARTAN-MYR094: One of the only Myrmidons to bond with Instructor Simon-G294 during training, Redmond-MYR094's admiration of his unorthodox instructor soon turned to a form of hero-worship. He shares many of Simon's traits, including his preference for tactics that favor self-preservation, and acts as something of an adjutant to Simon in the field. The two of them often operate as a two man squad and prefer to keep their distance from other teams. He is very loyal to Simon and follows him everywhere, regardless of whether Simon wants him to or not.
 * Agent 2042: Once an HPA agent, this master hacker jumped at the first chance to retire. Bored with civilian life, he became a mercenary working for the highest bidder. After being hired by an old associate to investigate the UNSC's Alice in Wonderland program, he was marked for death by the UNSC. Now on the run, he is determined to find out as much about AIW as possible.

ShockTrooper's Characters

 * Daniel Jackson: UNSC Marine of the UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance, UNSC Marine Special Forces Detachment. Jackson holds the rank of Sergeant. Daniel Jackson fought in the Human-Covenant War, Battle of Peleliu II, and conducted Top-Secret Military Operations. Jackson lost his Family in the Human-Covenant War and has developed Cold and Sociopathic Personality. Jackson is well-known for executing Wounded and Unarmed Rebels and Remnant Soldiers.


 * Rick Johnson: UNSC Marine of the UNSC Marine Force Reconnaissance, UNSC Marine Special Forces Detachment. Johnson holds the rank of Sergeant.

117649 Annihilative Repentance's Characters

 * Caleb Tyler: A hardened member of the UNSC Army Ranger Corps, Caleb Tyler has seen his share of bloodshed throughout his Special Operations career. And despite his innate pacifism, his patriotism has gotten the better of his judgement; him and his fireteam are willing to shoot and kill anything they are told to, if it is for the good of the UNSC.

FightWithHonor's Characters

 * Lee F. Winslow:Although paralyzed by an injury suffered in a Warthog crash, Lee has followed in the foosteps of uncle Shelby F. Winslow by working as a planner, analyst and strategist for UNSCSOCOM, outlining objectives and missions for UNSCSOCOM. Lee's disability prevents him from operating in the field, and as a civilian working in SOCOM headquarters he will make an admirable balance to the high-ranking officers he works alongside, and the elite special operators he controls in the field.


 * Marvin Ackerby:A member of the UNSC Special Operations Aviation Unit (UNSCSPOAU), Ackerby is a Chief Warrant Officer, responsible for piloting the air and spacecraft UNSC special operators rely upon so heavily for stealthy and safe combat insertion.


 * Santiago Nordmann:Descendant of American missionaries to Ecuador and Cofan natives, Nordmann was raised in the jungle, and applies the survival skills he learned as a child to good use on the battlefield with the elite operators of NAVSPECWAR 6.


 * Daniel Nikos:Of Greek ancestry, Nikos is a member of the UNSC Marine Orbital Incursion Group. Although new to combat, Nikos' ODST training has prepared him for even the most hazardous situations. His resourcefulness and fighting spirit are worthy of his Greek Resistance ancestors.


 * Kevin Red Songbird:Proudly of Native American lineage, Kevin's individualism is put to good use by UNSC Forward Airborne Reconnaissance, where his quick mind and hunter's instincts prove vital on a slew of desolate worlds.


 * Niel Van Warden:Member of the Rangers, Van Warden is an innovative tactician, dreaming up a slew of marginally insane tactics and bombarding his superiors with them. Although many regard him as overeager, his quick mind will prove even more valuable than his courage.

Subtank's Character

 * Sarah Rose: Freshly out of bootcamp, Alex is a UNSC Medic deployed with the UNSC Rangers. A Greenhorn, she has yet seen a single blood stain and wished she never have to deal with one. Her first field experience would change her life, military-wise.

Jawsredfield's Character

 * Jon Harper: During his middle time years working for ONI, Jon was part of NAVSPECWAR Six and was part of Task Force Blue.

H3's Characers

 * Myrmidon-012 (Myrmidon): SPARTAN-MYR012 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51)
 * Myrmidon-036 (Myrmidon): SPARTAN-MYR036 (SPECWAR SPARTAN / Task Force 51)

Ascension's Character

 * Eli Khawaja: Unknown



Interested Participants
Sign below :) Feel free to speak to me about this and find out details before you think it through. Everyone is allowed to join :)


 * 1) RelentlessRecusant
 * 2) Sgt.johnson
 * 3) Actene
 * 4) FightWithHonor
 * 5) ODST Joshie
 * 6) Kebath 'Holoree
 * 7) SPARTAN-118
 * 8) H3
 * 9) Jawsredfield
 * 10) ONI recon 111
 * 11) Subtank/Ascension
 * 12) ShockTrooper
 * 13) 117649 Annihilative Repentance
 * 14) Chim

Acknowledgments
RelentlessRecusant gratefully acknowledges the assistance of Lieutenant D.W. of the Singapore Army, Singapore Armed Forces, for assistance with the military aspects of Beyond Veil's Azure, and acknowledges various members of Harvard Stem Cell Institute, UMDNJ-RWJ University Hospital, and UMDNJ-RWJ Medical School for mentorship and ethical and technical thoughts regarding the augmentation protocols for Kimberly Ivy Blackburn and the Myrmidons.

Archive

 * Archive I

66
SPARTAN-G006, Cassandra, sat with her back against a hallway wall and focused on her breathing. It was a good concentration technique made even more valuable by its ability to cleanse her mind. It was a practice that had kept her sane throughout her time on this terrible, terrible planet.

If there had been any wounded in the convoy, they had been seen to before she could arrive with her field medic gear, so she had returned with the others to Hotel California. Now she had found a secluded spot and begun to concentrate on nothing else besides her breathing as she tried to force out the images of the Warthogs disintegrating under a hailstorm of bullets, of men coming apart as explosions tore through there vehicles.

She heard rapidly quickening footsteps and saw Simon coming quickly down the hall. He didn't seem to notice her as he turned into a public bathroom. She heard his pace become a run, and then the opening, closing and locking of a stall door and the unmistakable sound of someone losing not only their lunch, but their breakfast, dinner, previous lunch, and previous breakfast as well.

Apollo unstrapped his MJOLNIR armor and carefully placed the pieces in a rigid military pile on the ground. When he had heard the Lieutenant Commander order the commandos not to fire, his training had kicked in and he had instinctively stayed his hand. But then he had realized that the Lieutenant had not had the authority to countermand an order from a commodore and blazed away at the convoy. He didn't know what to feel about the deaths of the men in the Warthogs. He'd killed plenty of bystanders when the "no witnesses" directive had been issued and had never given it a second thought. This time was no different. He had only been following orders.

He switched on his computer and checked his messages. He smiled when he saw one from Agent 2042. The hacking expert had opted to stay out of the military after retiring, and had proved invaluable to Apollo by researching a certain program, Alice in Wonderland, that had caught his interest. Apollo had employed the former agent to do some dirt digging through the UNSC's files about the subject. Apollo's smile vanished, however, when he opened the message and read its contents:

To: Agent 2994 From: Agent 2042 Subject: I may not be collecting my fee after all

Don't try to message me or contact me in any way after reading this message. ''I won't be able to dig any further for some time now. As I was creeping through the UNSC's files, I managed to stumble across this:'' Alice in Wonderland TOP SECRET PATRIOT

UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence UNSC Department of Strategic Intelligence Running Title: Alice in Wonderland Summary Report, 17 MAR 2954 A Memorandum from the UNSC Naval Intelligence Office of Special Investigation to the Arcturus Committee and the Vector Thirteen DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DISTRIBUTE DO NOT DISTRIBUTE COUNT YOUR PAGES COUNT YOUR PAGES COUNT YOUR PAGES COUNT YOUR PAGES

You are on Page 1 of 1. Count your pages. Report any missing pages immediately to NIOSI.

THIS IS THE DAILY TACTICAL MEMORANDUM FROM THE UNSC NAVAL INTELLIGENCE OFFICE OF SPECIAL INVESTIGATION TO ALL MEMBERS OF THE UNSC DEFENSE FORCE WITH DELTA X-RAY FIVE STATUS, INCLUDING BUT NO LIMITED TO MEMBERS OF THE ARCTURUS COMMITTEE AND VECTOR THIRTEEN. YOU ARE ON THE DISTRIBUTION LIST FOR THIS DOCUMENT BECAUSE OF YOUR DELTA X-RAY FIVE STATUS.

It is the conclusion of the UNSC Naval Intelligence Office of Special Investigation that as of March 17, 2954 that Alice in Wonderland is reaching the end of its useful operational capacity.

Galactic peace is on the verge of disintegration.

Strategic long-range predictions by Blue Chip indicate with a 0.999993 probability, within ONE MONTH OF RECEIVING THIS REPORT, ONE OR MORE EVENTS OF APOCALYPTIC SCALE WILL OCCUR with non-UNSC and non-Covenant origin. Integrity calculations of Blue Chip indicate that its reality-recursive hardware and wetware has not been compromised. High-order probability calculations support Blue Chip's initial calculations.

Apocalypse is inevitable. It is without doubt that within one month, the RAGNAROK CIRCUMSTANCE will be triggered.

Immediate action must be taken to find alternative solutions.

Subproject 77 and MH ULTRA still remain as last-resort options. We must endeavor with all due speed to find alternative solutions, with the weight of mankind resting on us.

Pandora's Box, as previously agreed, has been relocated to Midgard under the safekeeping of [censored]. A substantial UNSC Special Operations Command battle group, code-named TASK FORCE 51, has been stationed on Midgard. The security of Pandora's Box rests upon [censored] and Task Force 51. We have no other choice; there is no other UNSC military force that can be trusted more than Task Force 51 to ensure the temporary safety of Pandora's Box.

We report that the UNSC Ether A Go Go has been detached from UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence reconnaissance duties, and that the Ether A Go Go is standing by above Midgard to take the citizen with DELTA X-RAY NINE status to Atlantis (read: Security Zone 77).

With mankind prepared to collapse, we have no other choice to ensure that the bearer of Pandora's Box has immediate access to Atlantis. While Subproject 77 and MH ULTRA are last-resort options, Alice in Wonderland is prepared to take any option that will avert mankind's inevitable fate, no matter the cost.

Counterintelligence sweeps have located one system security breach: this is believed to be an offensive information operations (IO) intrusion by Agent 2042, a former PROGWARDIV/HPA operator. With the instigator(s) of the RAGNAROK CIRCUMSTANCE currently unknown, we will not take any chances. A sizable UNSCSOCOM task force with over one thousand direct-action operators has been sent to apprehend or neutralize 2042.

We have been entrusted with mankind's last defense. It is a task that we will not fail until the very end.

If we have one hope, it is this. Our ability to trigger mutual assured destruction is still active. We still have Directive 0-9 and Pandora's Box. If we die, we can at least ensure that our mysterious foe dies with us as well.

Signed,

UNSC Naval Intelligence Office of Special Investigation Alice in Wonderland, UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence

''As you can see, I'm in trouble. I have to drop off the radar if I have any hope of staying alive. I may not have my MJOLNIR anymore, but I do have my own little mercenary gear and my training to help me, so if they do find me I'll at least take plenty of 'em with me. The situation looks worse than ever. This Box is definitely the key to something very bad, and it's in the possession of someone with you on Midgard. I know plenty of people who owe me favors, and they might be able to slip me past the UNSC's commandos. I haven't made much of my life up to this point, but I won't stand by while a select few give themselves the power this message seems to be talking about. I'm coming to Midgard to find the Box and figure out what it is. I know that what I'm asking for is treason, but please don't tell them what I've just told you. I've erased your codes and cut off all ties to you, so there's nothing I can blackmail you with. I'm simply asking you to do me a favor. The decision is yours, 2994. If you come across me while I try to do what I believe must be done, I expect you'll do your duty. But just this once don't be an automaton, a pawn of others. Goodbye, Apollo.''

67
FOB Hotel California, FORCE RECON Barracks (FRBAR) Midgard, 11 Draconic System

The Special Forces operators were quiet for the entire trip back to Hotel California, silently contemplating what had happened, who the figure was, and why it had happened. What ever that thing was, it definitely wasn’t human, wasn’t ONI, and didn’t even appear to be friendly. Cosette’s rifle was gripped firmly in her hands, her eyes fixated on the place that the wounded PMC had been, the image of him falling to his death ever vivid in her mind. As the King Pelican touched down on the airfield at the FOB, the sequence replayed in her head as the bay doors opened to allow them to disembark.

Her own fireteam as well as the Rangers simply followed her as she was first to get up and exit the dropship, the soldiers almost seeming to be in a confused stupor. Making her way towards the FORCE RECON barracks, Cosette didn’t return the various greetings she received from friends within Task Force 51, instead just focusing on the entrance to the building. That creature had murdered the private soldier, simply threw him out of the bay and then disappeared, it was still out there.

Passing through the doors once again, it was empty, her azure eyes scanning the room to confirm. The others simply took hold of their weapons, a Ranger and Merrill pushing one of the heavy bunks in front of the door. What happened had managed to shake 9 hardened SFO’s to their cores, enough that now they were barricading themselves in their barracks, all the meanwhile not exchanging one word. Cosette simply checked her sidearm, an M7 with an attached suppressor and tactical flashlight.

 Jennings & Rall   [SLIPCOM]

68
FOB Hotel California, Barracks Midgard, 11 Draconic System

While in the Barracks, Daniel Jackson, alone, was cleaning his Battle Rifle and polishing his Gear. Then, Jackson fell asleep in the Bunk Bed.

Jackson, although had experienced something Traumatic, showed no Regret or felt no Guilt for what had just recently happened.

While Asleep, Daniel had the Strangest Dream, which he was alone in an Dark Place. Then, Jackson was approached by an Beautiful and Young Woman. Jackson, standing motionless, heard the female being whisper, "Reject the Devil and your Sins or Perish", and disappeared in the Darkness. Then, Jackson seemed that his Eyes were bleeding and his Skin being ripped apart. Jackson woke up in Cold Sweat and went back to sleep and put his Favorite Song on, "Better" by Guns' N Roses.

Prepare to Drop

69
The Rangers had disembarked from their vehicles, weapons in hand, armor and equipment soaked in sweat, and a tiresome look in their eye.

They had just pulled off a successful mission, successful indeed. However, if those guys were really Davenport mercenaries, they had just slaughtered a convoy of innocents, men who used to be their fellow special forces brethren.

Tyrone walked into the Task Force Ranger barracks, and proceeded to his slightly elevated section in the area that was cordoned off by Ranger 38/6 C with sandbags. It was their turf, and no one stepped in it, not even Ranger 38/6 B, which had a combat record that rivaled theirs.

Jackson thought long and hard about that operation, that efficiency with which his men simply tore apart an entire column of vehicles, even using flame throwers to kill those who hadn't died in the hail of lead. After reviewing the tactical data, the way that SPARTAN sounded on the radio... he had a damn good reason for calling off the attack. SPARTANs never backed down from a fight unless there was a helluva reason. There was something on that convoy that ONI didn't want, he thought, thinking back at the tone of Rowntree.

What could it be? he thought, but placed those thoughts away, believing that it was not his place, as a soldier, as a low-ranking officer, not to question the decisions of the higher-ups.

Jamal saw it.

Them.

Their deep, blue, piercing eyes.

No mouths.

No features.

''Just those... eyes.'''

He brought up his BR55 to fire, and pulled the trigger.

Nothing.

He pulled it again.

Nothing.

He looked, and not a single round was fired.

He looked back at the beings, those penetrating eyes forcing their way into his soul.

''He felt himself being picked up, and thrown against a wall. He felt the impact. He felt the horror.''

''No SPARTAN had ever felt terror before. They were invincible. They couldn't die.''

But, those rumors and myths were pushed aside, as the being lifted him up without even touching him, and choked him.

"You have failed for the last time."

He felt himself dying, the air leaving his lungs, his trachea being crushed, his brain running wild at the prospect of finally being defeated.

He awoke from his dream, gasping in fright, sweat running down his forehead and onto his cheeks, his fists clenched, tightly gripping the hospital sheet.

You know, Jamal, they have a saying for what you have.

Oh really, what?

Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

Oh, I didn't know, thanks for telling me.

He sat up in his bed, his wounds quickly healing due to his advanced augmentation. After rubbing his eyes, he stared out the window, at the stars, and then, crawled back into bed. After closing his eyes, he saw them, those two bearers of bad news, those "sith lords", the "archangels" the "demons", and they had returned.

This time, they fired their weapons.

-- SPARTAN -002 [The Hero] [The Team] [A New Chronicle] 01:16, 21 January 2009 (UTC)

70
UNSCSOCOM Task Force 51 (TF51) FOB Hotel California

Office of the Commander, Joint Task Force (OFFCMDRJTF)

A polite rap on the hardwood door, and Admiral Son's gaze canted upwards from his desk.

It was one of the aide de camps.

"Admiral, the assault squadron just got roosted safely. You asked to be notified."

He nodded curtly.

"Recall my tactical staff for a meeting in five minutes in my office; no preparation will be necessary. The subject should be enlisted as regarding the Arcturus incident and our further steps to responsibly react to the incident."

"Yes sir. And who should be invited?"

"All staff officers, O-4 and up; all junior officers and enlisted are also welcomed to participate, although not mandatory."

With a stiff salute, the aide parted from her commander's office.

And expectantly, it was then that Kawika felt something laden and ponderous in his pocket.

He ignored it.

The time would be coming shortly enough anyways.

* *  *

Combat Information Center (CIC)

"Commodore?"

"Yes?"

"We have a situation", said a junior officer tartly.

Rowntree stared opaquely at the flatscreen monitor for a moment, the peculiar sight taking several moments to finally strike home, for how unfamiliar the visage was to her eyes.

Finally, she managed, "What the hell?"

Both officers were at a momentary loss of words.

It after several long moments of contemplation that Rowntree said adroitly, "Get me one of ground commanders; see if we can get one of them pulled from the admiral's meeting."

Several minutes later, an acerbic voice beckoned forth from the base intercom.

"All forces to battle stations, repeat, all forces to battle stations. Raid Hotel California. This is not a drill."

71
Jackson grabbed an MA8 Carbine and slammed a magazine in. The rest of his chalks grabbed their weapons, and they all proceeded to their pre-planned stations.

The five Ranger companies were to hold a section of the compound that lay right next to the motor pool, as well as their crucial armories and fuel dumps.

"Alright, whoever's attacking us obviously has to have something up their sleeves, or they wouldn't be doing this. Stay at the top of your games, gentlemen!"

Who the fuck is dumb enough to attack a heavily entrenched force of special operators?

-- SPARTAN -002 [The Hero] [The Team] [A New Chronicle] 17:03, 21 January 2009 (UTC)

72
Simon was trying to get some rest when the alarms began. With a reaction time honed by years of reacting quickly to danger, he was off the bed in an instant, his hand groping for the custom SMG he kept hidden under it. The weapon had been fitted with a silencer and reflex sight, the perfect tools for someone who wanted to remain unnoticed and adaptable. He locked his room's door and then proceeded to begin assembling his SPI armor over his body. After several minutes of fumbling and mistakes, he slid the helmet over his head and opened a link to wherever Redmond was.

"Where are you?" he demanded as he checked to see that his weapon was loaded.

"On my way to your room now, sir."

"Good. Meet with me outside the door and we'll get to our post." After a moment's hesitation, he slid another knife out of his rucksack and strapped it around the SMG's casing.

73
Joshua was catching some shut eye when the alarms went off. He was up like a flash, reached for his custom BR 55 DMR and aimed at the door. Nothing happened. He quickly got suited up in his SPI Armour. He grabbed his favourite K-Bar Bayonet and slid it on to his Battle Rifle. He quickly slid the last piece of his kit on. He then opened a com with Amy and Maria... Team Wolf.

"Amy, Maria? You ready? What's going on?"

"On our way to our posts." Amy responded.

"Rodger That. Just gotta waken our Friend. See you in 15."

"Got it sir."

And with that Josh moved off to get the HPA Agent.

"Rangers to the Choppers! Circle the area!" Joshua Stevenson ordered.

The Sniper Teams of 8th Irish ran towards the Helicopters, got strapped in and took off knowing that if this place falls all of Midgard falls.

Lieutenant   Mc  Callan  18:36, 21 January 2009 (UTC)

74
Directive 5-62

RADM GARNET ROWNTREE (UNSC OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE) SENDS

TO TASK FORCE 51 DO YOU READ TO TASK FORCE 51 DO YOU READ PLEASE ACKNOWLEDGE THAT RADM ROWNTREE SENDS

This is a priority directive issued by Commodore Garnet Rowntree, a flag grade officer of the UNSC Office of Naval Intelligence, issued to UNSC Special Operations Command special task group Task Force 51 (TF51) under BRAVO NOVEMBER SEVEN, which grants discretionary clearance for the indiscriminatory issue of priority directives by my command to Task Force 51 and all attached subordinate commands in regards to the UNSC crisis on Midgard.

This is a priority directive:

That the following small-molecule biologically-active pharmacological chemical compounds:


 * (+)-WIN-55212: CB1 and CB2 cannabinoid receptor activator, described by Compton et. al (2002) to have an in vitro biological activity at a Ki of of 62.3 ± 31 nM for human CB1 and a Ki of 3.30 ± 0.40 nM for human CB2 against 0.5 nM [3H]CP 55940
 * 2C-E: substituted phenethylamine and presumptive dopamine active transporter (DAT) inhibitor
 * A-769662: 5' adenosine monophosphate-activated protein kinase (AMPK) activator, described by Cool et. al (2006) to have an in vivo biological activity at a dosage of 30 mg/kg and an in vitro biological activity at an IC50 of 3.2 μM
 * GW1516: peroxisome proliferator-activated receptor (PPARδ) activator, described by Sznaidmann et. al (2003) to have an in vitro transactivation activity at a concentration of 1.0 nM for human PPARδ
 * JZL184: monoacylglycerol lipase (MAGL) inhibitor that increases 2-arachidonoylglycerol (2-AG) transmission, described by Long et. al (2009) to have nearly-complete inhibitory activity at 1.0 nM
 * O-1783: dopamine active transporter (DAT) inhibitor, described by Meltzer et. al (2003) to have an IC50 of 17 nM competitively inhibits [3H]WIN 35,428 binding to the transporter in the rhesus monkey (Macaca mulatta)
 * Selegiline: monoamine oxide-B (MAOB) inhibitor, described by Engberg et. al (1991) to inhibit MAOB and increase dopa accumulation following 3-hydroxybenzyihydrazine administration at an in vivo concentration of 30mg/kg through intraperitoneal (I.P.) administration

AND that the following biologically-active biological factors:


 * BMP7: 28.8 kDa homodimeric glycoprotein, which correspond to amino acid residues 316 to 431 of the full-length BMP7 precursor, solubilized in hydroxyapatite
 * Myf5-PRDM16shRNA: promoter-driven gene system ligated into non-replicative, transiently-expressed, non-integrating adenoviral expression vector for specific promoter-driven expression
 * Snai-MyoD: promoter-driven gene system built ligated non-replicative, transiently-expressed, non-integrating adenoviral expression vector for specific promoter-driven expression

THESE SMALL-MOLECULE CHEMICAL COMPOUNDS AND ADENOVIRAL VECTORS WILL BE ADMINISTRATED BY MEANS OF ONE (1) BLUE-COLORED SOLID MEDICINAL TABLET INCLUDED IN THE CANTEEN OF EACH TASK FORCE 51 (TF51) OPERATOR. EACH OPERATOR IS TO INGEST ONE (1) TABLET WITH THE DISCLOSED CHEMICAL AND BIOLOGICAL FACTORS WITH AQUEOUS SOLUTION (e.g. WATER) PRIOR TO COMBAT OR NON-COMBAT OPERATIONS. SIGNED, GARNET ROWNTREE, COMMODORE, UNSC OFFICE OF NAVAL INTELLIGENCE, UNDER DIRECTIVE BRAVO NOVEMBER SEVEN.

RelentlessRecusant

75
UNSCSOCOM Task Force 51 (TF51) FOB Hotel California

Daniel Jackson, now Fully-Awake, gathered his UNSC Marine FORCE RECON Team together and headed straight for King Pelican Supply Station.

Who in the HELL is attacking us? thought Jackson as he slammed an Magazine in his Battle Rifle.

"Alright Marines, Get to your Assigned Defensive Positions, I'll be right back" said Jackson.

Jackson, who had left his Ammo Belt in the Barracks, entered the Barracks, and grabbed his Ammunition. When, Daniel went outside, he froze up.

"My God!" said Jackson

ShockTrooper

76
As ordered, Redmond met Simon at the door of the Lieutenant's room.

"I came from the canteen," he panted. "The latest directive says we gotta take one of these." So saying, he handed Simon a small blue medicine tablet.

Simon frowned as he took the thing. Another damn eye booster or cold vaccine, he thought with a mental eye roll. There always seemed to be a new kind of drug the UNSC wanted its soldiers to be on.

Snapping his water bottle open, he popped the tablet into his mouth and gulped it down. Returning the bottle to his rucksack, he nodded to Redmond.

"Let's move out the usual way then."

The two of them crouch-walked down the hall, wary of any stray bullets that might begin to fly at any moment.

77
UNSCSOCOM Task Force 51 (TF51) Midgard, 11 Draconis System

UNSC Army Special Operations Aviation Detachment (RAVEN)

The acerbic retort of the corybantic cry over Hotel California’s loudspeakers were unmistakable; they were galvanized into action by primal instinct. His veins were scalded by liquid fire, the tissues of his body searing by the cry’s oscillating tone. He knew that sound well.

The aviation battalion’s S3’s voice, forged from shattered steel and ice, rang through the loudspeakers over the din a moment later, corroborating it.

“Scramble. All ready teams, scramble. Raid Hotel California. This is not a drill.”

At 1131 hours zulu for March 17, 2594, the ready team rotation was 3/2 Company of the 5th—Sheridan Hawthorne’s company; Strikefast.

It took only the fraction of a heartbeat for the speaker’s intonation to strike home, to illuminate his prefrontal cortex, to send the vigor coursing throughout his body. In a moment, seven hours of droll boredom spent in Hotel California’s ready room were redacted. He bolted from his chair, replete in the full seven-piece pressure suit, with the visored pressure helmet already fit, the neck seal loosed.

The company tore from the ready room towards the exterior of the hangar, a ragged wave of humanity breaking forth, headed for one objective—

The eight AV-99 Foray assault gunship of the 3/2 Strikefast.

Hawthorne was steps behind the company commander—Delano.

When the company broke into the sunlight, 11 Draconis’s light struck the Forays, as if a ray of heaven striking down and breaking upon Earth, bringing the entire scene into celestial effulgence, illuminating the lethal length and canted cannons of every one of the gunships.

The sudden exertion and inertia bucked heavily against his stiffened frame, his immobilized joints, but he force-fed air and vitality into his muscles, springing into the gunship’s cockpit as the flight chiefs were seconds behind on their robotic dollies, the mechanized units teeming with the glistening metallic poison of warheads.

He ran through the pre-flight checklist; it was brief.

He was shortly joined by the weapons specialist—Keeler—and the electronic warfare (EW) operator—Thomson.

Even as his fingers, pre-programmed, autonomously orchestrated the complex array of diodes and levers that was the Foray’s abbreviated pre-flight, he did not notice it, for it was underneath his contempt.

For his veins thundered with a colossal pulse, a beckoning beat. Within his veins raged the valkyries towards dawn, the charge of the light brigade.

For someone was attacking Hotel California.

Someone was striking the UNSC—someone was assaulting humanity’s tender heart.

Fuckers.

No one could operate an AV-99 like the 3/2 Strikefast; whoever had the gall to launch such an audacious feint would soon be crushed by heavy side of UNSCSOCOM’s hammer.

Three quick clicks on the QUICK HAVEN short-range com, and the local battlenet was established.

“Radios routed”, reported the battalion S2. “Battalion radio is go.”

Thomson, from the back seat, gave two firm thumbs up. “Internal VHF is go, sir.”

“3-2, this is CMDRATKHB, authenticating secure.”

Any calls to “3-2” were addressed to the company commander, Delano, not any of subordinate fliers.

“Eagle Six, this is 3-2, send.”

“Operational deployment is Sparrow, 3-2. Bring your company to Rally One outside of the northwest entrance, and prepare to provide close air support for friendlies, over.”

A high-pitched syncopated whine, and the Foray’s jet-powered thrusters ignited, coming alive, shattering the air.

The company commander momentarily paused before returning the battalion commander. “Eagle Six, what’s the tactical situation looking like?”

“3-2, Raid Hotel California. Deploy your company as per OP-ORD Sparrow and provide close air support for friendly SF forces on the ground. I have no further information for you at this time, over.”

Hawthorne tossed a glance back at Thomson, who made a slitting motion across his throat.

The situation certainly didn’t sound on the fucking upside.

“Copy that, Eagle Six. Strikefast all the way.”

“Eagle Six out.”

The local company radio flared on.

“Strikefast, this is 3-2. Alpha strike; weighted light and heavy. Attack teams BLUE and WHITE are loaded light, and attack team RED is our heavy hitter, loaded up with AT/AM. S3 sends that soon, we’ll be receiving coordinates from an SF fire observer on the ground.”

Pause.

“Prepare for takeoff and orbit the kill box. Godspeed, Strikefast.”

Sheridan swallowed the pill, felt it run down his tract, and once again, 3-2 Strikefast rode to war.

UNSC Army Ranger Corps, 8th Irish Ranger Regiment, 3rd Airborne Battalion (Air Assault)

At the klaxon’s feral wail, 3rd Platoon Hunters of the 8th Irish Ranger Regiment, 3rd Battalion (Air Assault), Company “C” were aroused. The Ranger operators of the 8th Ranger were on the ready rotation; the rotation that ensured that a weighted SF-capable strike force was capable of deploying to any emerging urgent operation with less than twenty minutes’ notice.

No one expected that a Ranger mission on Midgard would ever carry them home.

Hotel California was under siege.

One Ranger had overheard a transmission and had been telling it to the platoon, and when the loudspeakers lit up, they knew it wasn’t a drill.

Lieutenant Justin Mikklesen was already up and screaming through the halls, thunder’s rolls flooding through every room.

As the Ranger combat team ready commander, it was him, not the other company or platoon COs, who received the objectives first from the battalion command.

“Hunters! Lock and load! This is our stop to fuck shit up! Let’s roll!”

The first to greet him was his platoon sergeant; Staff Sergeant Murchie.

The lieutenant handed her urgent orders; “Find Stevenson. OP-ORD Canine; the Battalion wants Juliet’s snipers airborne. Air assault.”

Murchie nodded quickly, dispersed.

The others of the 3rd Platoon “Hunters” came fast enough, well within the reaction clock. Mikklesen surveilled them with a touch of pride; forty Rangers—his Rangers, well-armed, well-trained. Midgard had taken the fight out of most of the regiment yet, but not his unit.

The lieutenant waved them urgently towards the IFVs that would carry them to battle, and mouthed the pill, felt the energy course through him.

“Rock and roll!”

UNSC Special Warfare Group “Spartan”, Myrmidon Detachment Four (“Delta Squadron”)

In the still silence of her room, Eve, Myrmidon-005, hazarded that battle’s wake was upon them, that the skies shone with war’s colors.

She did not understand how she had fathomed upon that, but she did know one thing.

That it was true. With an absolutely still certainty, it was true.

It was this precocious precognition that had earned her rank of Chief Petty Officer (E-7) and position of the senior enlisted of the fourth Myrmidon detachment, Delta Squadron.

Eve remembered Admiral Kawika Son’s “speech”. Personalized augmentations. Small-molecule chemical compounds to control human embryogenesis and postnatal physiology. Chemical probes to augment local biological signaling and growth and repair.

Personalized augmentations for every Myrmidon.

Two decades spent to hand-tailor small-molecule augmentations for each and every one of the one hundred Myrmidon children.

If so, then the Myrmidon staff had a 99% success rate.

For they had made one mistake in their “personalized augmentations”.

Her.

Eve. Myrmidon-005.

She didn’t know how it had happened. The chemical genetics, pharmacokinetics, and complimentary chemical biology was far beyond her understanding, or for that matter, beyond the understanding of most of the biologists and chemical biologists of both the UNSC and the Covenant.

But she had always been different. An irreversible flaw, from conception. She had been born damaged. Eve had been born as flawed.

The playing field for her had never been even.

Others couldn’t even imagine being “disabled”. That when you didn’t even fight, you lost. When you born, you already lost.

Others thought she was winning; she held a senior position with the Myrmidon company command structure.

They were fatalistically lost in their own whimsical thoughts.

Eve was a horror, a byproduct of reckless chemical biology and chemical genetics that had finally stumbled.

Mentally, she had always been defective. She was always less intelligent. Slower to catch on. She was the least creative. Least adept in planning operations, in responding when operations hit fatal snags.

But yet, there she was, senior enlisted to Delta Squadron, UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN. Why?

She had the unnatural gift of what some called prescience.

It had come up early.

When the child soldier Myrmidons were being forced through their tests, their combat exercises had all been harrowing. Horrifying. One of their chief instructors, Simon-G294, had introduced so many unexpected snags into their operations that simple reconnaissance patrols or search-and-rescue (SAR) training modules had become harrowing battles of survival against monstrous helicopter gunships and automated hunter-killer drones.

Practice missions to disarm a single squad of Marines were transformed into week-long campaigns, running raging battles against hundreds of entrenched heavy weapons troopers with fire and air support, with mortar raining like snowfall and snipers taking out the children. The Myrmidons, as a company, were always close to physical, psychological, and mental collapse.

Except Team Valkyrie, Eve’s team.

She always knew when the snags occurred. She knew what they would be, who had planted them. Team Valkyrie never encountered a single snagged mission.

She always knew what they were beforehand, and the team simply re-ordered its objectives to circumnavigate them before they ever came up. Eve knew where the hidden stun minefields were, where the ODST sniper-spotter teams were, and Team Valkyrie looped by them to reach their objective.

No one ever knew how she knew. They suspected she had a source inside the command staff.

Ironically enough, the mentally-retarded giant was the best tactician.

Yes, a second effect. Ironically, despite her hindered intelligence and creativity, she had, by some odd telling of Fate’s hand, been given an extraordinary physical body; a second effect, she suspected, of the tragic embryonic accident that had made her who she was. She was superlatively strong, with a peerless endurance and gross physical strength to outmatch any other of the child soldiers, and also strikingly beautiful; another cruel turn of fate.

But to everyone else, she was the weird paranoid-schizophrenic psychic giantess that knew where all the traps were.

None of the other Myrmidon troopers accepted her. Even her own team, Valkyrie Team, wasn’t close to her.

She lived in a world of darkness; she was drowning in the night.

Far before the alarms rang, she knew of the attack.

Even before Florian-021, Delta Squadron’s commander and Valkyrie Team’s leader, roused them to battle, she knew of the fighting, what laid beyond Hotel California’s walls.

Even before Bjorn-047 and Daphne-097, the other two Valkyries, brought the pills, she knew what they were even without consulting the pharmacological index. She knew what they would do.

She took them anyways.

Why did she care?

She was living her death. Bringing her another footstep towards the darkness was nothing compared to how she burnt everyday.

And then, the Myrmidons of Team Valkyrie too strode towards Hotel California’s walls and to the battle that raged outside.

UNSC Naval Special Warfare Group Six (NAVSPECWAR Six)

“Shit!”

Shattering glass and fulminating fire, and another Molotov cocktail broke out, covering the face of the sniper tower in flames as Chief Petty Officer Laine Morrison and her spotter convulsively threw themselves to the floor, the glass around them shattering from the intense explosion, raining them in sparkling starfall of krystallnacht.

The voice in the her helmet-mounted headset warbled insistently;

“''Chief, the Admiral wants a report stat about the situation out there. How’s it looking?''”

As a tongue of fire lapped at her body armor, she screamed furiously, “We’re under heavy attack! Can you reinforce?”

Another Molotov cocktail burst nearby, and her spotter barked, “Crazy mother fuck!”

“''Recon, I didn’t get that last part. Come again? What is the disposition of the enemy forces? We need to redirect supporting fires on their position.''”

She stood abruptly, and gazed on the depraved, hellish world below her.

Thousands of civilians thronged against Hotel California’s gates. A wave of humanity broke upon the base’s shores, the tsunami raging higher and higher.

A teeming mass of humanity.

They screamed. They shouted. They cried, and the world died.

She heard their chants.

“''Peace on Mid-gard! Peace on Mid-gard! Peace, peace! Peace, peace!''”

In their hands they had the mangled, bloody body of a disarmed Ranger, and they were passing the corpse back and forth and exclaiming in excitement at the dead UNSC soldier.

At the sight, her hands clenched and tensed, the fire ran through her, and her body resonated in fury.

All around, civilians tore down fences, threw bombs at sentry posts, stabbed the corpses of dead UNSC troopers.

She rose the microphone to her raspy lips.

“Bring the cavalry, Command. Blow them to hell.”

RelentlessRecusant

78
War was something that the Special Forces operators of FORCE RECON lived for, a constant that kept their worlds in order. As ridiculous as it sounded, they felt secure on the battlefield, like a child felt safe in the confines of their home or a school. Cosette pulled herself together, the soldiers who had tried to block out the world after seeing a survivor thrown from a King Pelican and the creature responsible for it. Her squad formed up, the eight soldiers ready for action.

As they reached the outer perimeter, they found it in chaos, enemy combatants and angry civilians infiltrating their defenses. Cosette gave the order to fire on armed civilians, the area being rocked by another large bomb being detonated. Placing her finger over the trigger, the Corporal and her squad began to gun down anything hostile to the UN without a second thought, the sounds of automatic fire ringing out.

 <font color="#CACACA">Jennings & Rall  <font color="#CACACA"> [SLIPCOM]

79
Joshua sat on the edge of the Heron circling Hotel California. The mob was mad. Killing any UNSC personel without a weapon and mutilating there body as if it was some sort of Beast. The sounds of the BR 55 DMR were going off all around him. The chopper was too damn small for 6 Snipers armed to the teeth with ammo.

"Josh! Look!" Flight Commander Wes Samsung said, the Heron's pilot. Pointing to a group off Mobster's which seemed to be lagging behind.

"Vern. See what they're doing."

Vernon Martin looked down the sights of his SRS99C-S2 AMB and looked at the group of slow coaches.

"Uhh... Sir." Vernon said.

"What is it?"

"It's ummm a group of guys with Jackhammars."

"Oh christ..."

Vernon and Josh fired there weapons down at the group. They managed to kill 4 of the 7 Rocketmen. The surviving men aimed up and fired at once.

"FOXTROT! INCOMING!" Joshua screamed.

3 rockets connected with the tail rotor of the Heron and sent it into a spin. Vern slid and was about to fall out when Joshua and Richard McKay grabbed him and pulled him up.

"Mayday! Mayday! This is Juliet 3-6-4. We are going down repeat we are going down!" Wes said into the com. "Hang on guys!"

The Heron was sent into a spiral, constantly losing Altitude.

"Get Ready!" Wes said finally before the Herson hit the ground about 6 clicks from Hotel California.

SPARTAN-G024 stabbed a hostile with his bayonet, the blood poured out of him. He quickly turned round and fired twice into another Hostile right behind him. He was stuck in the corridor of the Dormintory's. He hadn't been able to get out before they came pouring in. Agent 2024 stood at the top of the dormintory laying down some serious covering fire with his Sniper. Josh was stuck dead in the middle covering the back and the Lift which frequently came up loaded with troops. 6 More Rebels came charging up, he fired in single shot mode killing them before they got close. He check his Ammo counter. 15 Rounds left. He checked himself for more Mags. Two Left. ''Foxtrot. Not enough'' he thought. The lift opened and out came 7 more rebels. He fired into their centre mass. 6 Rebels down 3 bullets left. Suddenly rocket zoomed over his head. He turned and noticed that there was 5 more rebels. His BR 55 DM-R's clip ran dry, he swapped instinctivly to his M6G and continued firing. Bullets zinged past him hitting the wall behind him.

"2024! We gotta move! We're about to get over run!" He Shouted to him. "I'm nearly outta ammo!"

"Got it." the HPA Replied cooly

''God I hate his guts. He enjoys this too much.'' Josh thought. But damn he's good.

Joshua reloaded his rifle and continued to fire into the minst of the crowd, but instead of holding his ground he began to fall back to 2024 position.

"Ready?"

"Yep, let's go," Josh said while shooting the last of his BR 55 DM-R rounds before following 2024 to the stairs to outside.

Lieutenant   Mc  Callan  20:08, 23 January 2009 (UTC)

79: Back in the Saddle Again
"What, Sir?"

"Jackson, we need you to take one of the remaining AV-99 Forays! The pilot was injured running to his craft!"

"Sir, you know, I'm a Ranger now, right?"

"Jackson, that's an order. I've seen your record. You're one of the hottest Foray pilots in the galaxy."

Jackson rolled his eyes, promoted his 2nd Chalk leader to commander, then took off in a dead sprint for the hangar.

There, he found a fully gassed and armed Foray.

"You're the driver?"

"Hell yeah, what do you need me to do?"

"Fly the bitch!"

Jackson climbed in, put on a helmet, moved the craft to the airstrip, and took off.

One of the helos were down, and they needed as much cover as they could get. -- <font color="White">SPARTAN <font color="White">-002 <font color="White">[The Hero] <font color="White">[The Team] <font color="White">[A New Chronicle] 22:02, 23 January 2009 (UTC)

80
UNSCSOCOM Task Force 51 (TF51) FOB Hotel California

As the Mob drew closer, UNSC Marine, Daniel Jackson, and his FORCE RECON Team opened fire on the Mob and defended Hotel California, showing No Mercy and No Remorse.

"Open Fire on those Motherfuckers!" yelled Jackson as he fired his Battle Rifle.

"Sgt. Jackson, do you read?" said an Marine Officer

"Loud and Clear" said Jackson

"Jackson, I need you to head over to Kng Pelican Dropship Pads, UNSC Marine FORCE RECON Team will arrive to reinforce Hotel California, However, they need an safe place to land. So, Daniel Jackson, pull your FORCE RECON Team back to the Pads and hold your position, let the 8th Irish Rangers take over your position" said the UNSC Officer.

"Alright, MARINES fall back to the King Pelican Pads" said Jackson.

As the Marine FORCE RECON Operators retreated, Jackson felt an sigh of Relief.

As the UNSC Marine King Pelican Dropship approached FOB Hotel California, Sgt. Rick Johnson, UNSC Marine FORCE RECON Operator, and his UNSC Marine FORCE RECON Team preped up for the Mission. Since an Mob attacked Hotel California, UNSC reinforcements were sent to put down the Mob.

Johnson was loading an Magazine into his Battle Rifle and put on his ODST Helmet.

"ETA, 10 Minutes" said the Pilot.

"Alright Marines, Get ready!" said Rick Johnson as he stood up and picked up his Battle Rifle.

Outside the Window, Johnson could see an fire nearby

Here we go thought Rick Johnson.

ShockTrooper

81
With 2042's plight momentarily forgotten in the adrenaline rush that came with combat, Apollo readied his Battle Rifle as he raced out of the building and into the motor pool. He wasn't entirely sure where to go, so he had decided to hitch a ride and get as close to the main battle as possible. Just like old times: a single well-trained operative taking down hordes of foolish goons. That's what made you retire, he reminded himself. You got bored.

He slowed, momentarily depressed. Was life repeating itself for him? Would he be once more doomed to fighting weak and uninspired foes for the rest of his career?

The incessant honking of a Warthog's horn snapped him back into reality. A few yards away, Artemis had gotten into the driver seat of one of the venerable cars and was motioning for him to get in.

"You just going to stand there all day?" she demanded. "Get moving!"

Apollo sprinted to the 'hog and clambered onto the chaingun. "What's the plan?" he asked. If there was one person who knew how to make routine jobs interesting, it was Artemis.

"We got a chopper down about six clicks away. We need to reinforce them until command can spare a few dropships to pick 'em up. Have you taken that new pill yet?"

Apollo had downed one just before donning his helmet. "Yeah. So are we gonna move or just stand here all day?"

82
UNSC Caledon Midgard Geosynchronous orbit

The armor-clad grey hull of the Caledon gently rolled through the silent expanse of space, her angular hull in warlike clash to the gentle curves of Midgard's verdant sphere. Yet in an act of the irony only Man can enact, it was the Frigate's warlike frame that was the bearer of peace, for Midgard was at war.

Bright flashes erupted from the tactical screens as the human aegis of rage swept over FOB Hotel California, hurling fiery improvised bombs; waging war to secure peace.

"Sir, Hotel California is reporting massive enemy activity directed at their compound."

Lt. Commander Steven Myer had not come to Midgard for peace, yet it was he who had planned to be the aggressor, but now a single-minded mob had snatched the initiative from one of the Galaxy's most elite military forces. A band of rioters had grabbed a single weight from the scales of Fate, and in a single moment upset what years of bloodshed had bought.

"What's the status on the LZ's?"

"Red, sir. One dropship has already gone down outside the perimeter."

"Then put the Helljumpers to prepare to drop."

The klaxon erupted, sending a wailing cacophony of sound throughout the ready room. Ears ringing, Daniel Nikos leapt from his unfinished meal, grabbed his MA5K carbine, and dashed out the door, joining a throng of grey-clad men streming for the troop bays.

There row of HEVs stood, edifices to the hazardous art of the UNSC Marine Orbital Incursion Group Trooper, the ODSTs, their armored hulls state-of-the-art parachute and indifferent coffin combined.

With an ease and a confidence only long experience and constant training can produce, Nikos strapped himself into the carapaced pod, bracing himself for the blast that would send him hurtling to earth, a prelude to the crushing blow of actually landing.

Outside FOB "Hotel California" Midgard

The gentle rasp of metal on metal, then the plunk like sledgehammer on iron bar, the first sound of a journey that would culminate in a roar far louder.

The mortar bomb hurtled upward, its progenitors already busying themselves to fire another at their sprawling, harried target, FOB Hotel California.

The air rushed by, the bomb slowing at the peak of its arc, gently slowing before reversing course and accelerating for the final seconds of its life, prepared to destroy its life and the life of any unlucky enough to be caught in its explosive funeral pyre.

Primary Flight Line A-103 FOB "Hotel California" Midgard

The mortar shell exploded a few feet behind Ackerby, showering him with the loose earth which floored the flight line, but not with the shrapnel that would have ended his life. Ackerby simply leapt up and ran. He had a job to do.

He had seen that Heron spin to earth like Icarus, its wings clipped not by the Sun, but by the jealous fury of the land and her outraged instruments.

Ackerby was now mere feet from the nearest Heron, its turbines still hot from its last mission, its tanks empty. Yet even if his wings were clipped, Ackerby was determined his craft would live to fight another day. The flight line would no be overrun.

FOB "Hotel California" Midgard

Nordmann watched as the compound erupted into fire, and as tracers flew from towers and walls in response. this was a full-fledged firefight. Yet even in this chaos of Human struggle Nordmann was alone. And then he saw the gate collapse, a sea of faces swirling.

The King Pelican flared quickly, its pilot short on fuel after pockmarked wasteland that now confronted him where spotless concrete had once been. Yet the apprehension of the flight crew did not effect that of the single passenger.

Niel Van Warden hopped from the back of the Pelican, M7 LARK in hand, finger on the trigger, alert, but eager. The crew quickly followed scuttling for covet, but Van Warden had a different plan, when he had come here as a Ranger, he had planned to fight, and if the enemy was offering one, then that was all the better Task Force Provisional Command Center FOB "Hotel California" Midgard

Lee felt the concrete hulk of the bunker shudder as the mortars slammed into the 8 feet of concrete and titanium above his head, their explosive voices blotting out any hope of making himself heard. The video feeds before him were filled with Human tides, waves racing for the base, the blasts of crude explosives sending officers and enlisted men alike to hide under flimsy desks. Lee shared their concern, but not their expression.

He gently brushed the polished grip of the M6B he kept on his person, flicking the safety off and laying it between his dormant legs. Then, it was simply a matter of getting a first-hand view of things.

Lee wheeled out the door of the bunker and headed for the roof. Yet just as he reached it, the unseen hand of a shock wave slammed him to the ground, knocking him from his wheelchair. Lee was now trapped, exposed, unable to aid himself, reliant now upon the charity of his fellow man, hundreds of whom were now tying to kill him.

''Peace on Midgard. Fighting for peace, it is the hypocrisy Mankind has engaged in since the dawn of time, yet survival must precede ideal, and so we fight on. May the best man win.''

FightWithHonor

83
Lt.Stevenson got up from the Chopper which was tipped on it's side. He tasted blood in his mouth. He shook Vernon who was lying near him. Vern got up, shook of the nausea and prepared to defend the Crashsite. Josh looking right and Vernon looking left. Vern's Sniper went off first. Josh saw a group of Hostile's close in. He fired his BR 55 DM-R into the group, killing 2 off the them.

"Loading!" Vern shouted.

Josh kept firing, this time the Rebels shot back, bullets impacted the bottom of the chopper with a metallic ping.

"Loading!" Joshua shouted, dropping the spent one and slapping a fresh one in.

"Oh... Christ," Wes said.

"How ya doing Wes?" Joshua said without looking down from the sights of his weapon.

"Not too well... ughh... I think my leg is broken, not sure."

"Well load your SMG, this could get ugly."

Vern kept firing his Sniper at the targets, he just didn't have enough ammo. He fired his last 4 Rounds into the closest hostiles.

"Shit, outta ammo!" he shouted

"Pick up one of theirs!" Josh shouted back.

Vern picked up a BR 55 DM-R from the ground and took some clips from the body of a dead Sniper. He loaded a fresh clip into the Rifle and continued to fire downrange, Richard McKay stirred and clambered up, he surveyed the carnage.

"Looks like you boy's started with out me," McKay smirked

Josh or Vernon didn't respond they were to busy trying to survive. Joshua contiued to fire his Battle Rifle into the rebels charging at him. Bullets zinging past him and bullets hitting the metal which protected him.

"Mortars!" Vern shouted, and then fired at the mortor's. They overshot killing some of the men attacking Joshua. Thank God they aint accurate. he thought. McKay had joined Vern's side as the fire was heavier from that way. Bullet's zinged from behind Josh. He saw them fly past. He quickly turned round and saw Vern falling.

"FUCK!" he shouted.

"Command this is Staff Sergeant Richard McKay, Please respond. Our Crashsite is under attack! We are 3 men down! One of the able body defenders is hit bad! We need assistence NOW! Over." McKay shouted down the mic.

"They better come soon! Or we're gonna die!" Joshua said, finishing his third last Clip.

Lieutenant   Mc  Callan  16:22, 24 January 2009 (UTC)

84
"Gunner, you see that Tank, right there?"

"Roger that, take it out, sir?"

"Cook it."

As a BLOODHOUND missile streaked off the rails of the AV-99, Jackson noticed something - an anti-air vehicle.

Turning the Foray to dodge the missiles, he groaned as the G forces became too much, then felt the craft shudder.

They flew straight for a bit, then they went into an uncontrollable spin.

As the craft went down, the gunner released the entire payload, destroying a few light vehicles and more than a few buildings.

The AV-99 smashed into the ground, and Jackson looked up in the sky.

It was azure, and the sun shone brightly. A bird flew overhead, and Jackson died. -- <font color="White">SPARTAN <font color="White">-002 <font color="White">[The Hero] <font color="White">[The Team] <font color="White">[A New Chronicle] 17:41, 24 January 2009 (UTC)

85
As the King Pelican approached Hotel California, Rick Johnson saw an crashed Heron, the one containing the 8th Irish Rangers, with fire coming out of the Ship and Rebels opening fire on them and UNSC Commandos returning Fire.

"C'mon in Command, I've got an Visual on an Crash Site with Shots fired from Both sides, request permission to Rescue the Survivors" said Johnson.

"Negative, you'll be torn to ribbons if you land, we need you to get to Hotel California" said Command.

"I was considering something else, Can we provide Sniper Support for the Survivors in the Air so they can escape?"

"Permission Granted" said Command.

So, Rick Johnson dropped his Battle Rifle and headed over to the Rack to pick up an Sniper Rifle and ordered PFC. Jessica Harris, FORCE RECON Sniper, to assist him in providing Sniper Cover for the Survivors.

As Rick Johnson lifted ans Aimed his Sniper Rifle, he yelled to the Pilot, "Get me Communications with the Crashsite, NOW!".

Then, Rick Johnson fired his Sniper Rifle and killed an Rebel attempting to throw an Molotov Cocktail, nailed him right through the Head.

Welcome to Hell's Domain thought Johnson.

ShockTrooper First Feet into Hell

86
"You mean to tell me, that while we've been running around in Mk. IV, you guys had three Mk. VI suits just laying around?"

"Yes."

Gabriel turned around, and in frustration, punched a wall. They had been using ages old armor with no upgrades whatsoever for the past sixty-odd years, they arrive to Midgard, still using their old equipment, while the HPA bastards received new equipment? To him, it was sheer B.S.

"In the mean time... you two, after reading your operational records, have been given specialized armor. Gabriel, your suit is indeed a Mk. VI, however, some components have been modified for your sniper role. You have a heavily modified Mk. VI helmet with night-vision and thermal capacities, your shoulder pauldrons are those of the "S" variant, and your frontal chestplate is that of the "R" variant, for more stealth. Helen, you now have a CQB Helmet, with the shoulders of the EOD variant, as well as the chestplate. Get suited up, and start getting used to your shields. Your mission is to secure the sight of a downed drop ship, and retrieve all personnel alive, understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Dismissed."

Gabriel and Helen, now fully in their Mk. VI suits, turned around, and Helen began to slip on the energy shield. Bracing herself against a door frame (which was now dented), she regained her balance, and ran again, quickly getting used to her shields before taking a right into the armory. Gabriel followed, and grabbed his trademark SRS-99D S2-AM (with slightly modified bipod, scope, and barrel), as well as an M7. Helen grabbed a BR55 DMR, as well as an M41 Launcher.

Jamal stood up, finally realizing his strength to walk again, ripped out the IVs and took off the sensor patches that fed into the various machines in the room. He literally began to run out of the room, heading towards the armory when a Master Gunnery Sergeant stopped him.

"Come with me, SPARTAN-002. We have a present for you."

What, a court martial? wondered Jamal.

Seemingly being able to read his thoughts, the Master Gunnery Sergeant turned around, and with a slight smile, said: "No, it's nothing bad."

Entering into the room that he knew was the armor testing room, the two walked in, and the lights came on. In the center was a new suit of MJOLNIR Mk. VI, but with different shoulder, chest, and a seemingly modified helmet.

"This... is your new armor. Merry Christmas, SPARTAN. The helmet is the standard variant, however, modified for your specialty. Knowing as you were the reconnaissance specialist of your class, the shoulders are those of the "Scout" permutation, while your chest is that of the CQB variant, stealthed, of course. Put it on, see how it feels."

Jamal first put on the form-fitting suit, which contained gel layers for shock, etc. Then, he put on each component of the armor, which was colored steel-black, and after fully suiting up, heard the familiar whirs and beeps of computer systems booting up. After shaking his head, he saw the Heads-Up-Display materialize in front of him, then saw a bar across the top which had to have been the shield indicator.

"Try running around a bit with full shields on. It's a little tricky."

Jamal turned the shields up to full, and began to stride forward, then slipped, and slammed into a wall. Attempting the feat again, he moved slowly, then a little bit faster, then faster still, until he was able to run around the room without falling on his butt.

"Very good, very good. Now, the Mk. VI links up to your weapon, and displays your ammo count. Very useful, eh?"

"Very."

Jamal then reached for his chestplate, and took out the CQB knife, and held it in his hands, shields now off.

It was his knife, the same one that he had used so long before.

He placed it back into its sheath, then walked out of the arms testing room, went into the armory, grabbed a BR55 DMR and an M90 CAWS, several magazines and shells, turned his shields back on, then walked out into the bright light, and in the distance, made out Gabriel and Helen.

"Jamal, get there. There's a downed drop ship, in need of assistance."

Jamal took off in a sprint, weapon cradled in his arms. -- <font color="White">SPARTAN <font color="White">-002 <font color="White">[The Hero] <font color="White">[The Team] <font color="White">[A New Chronicle] 15:33, 25 January 2009 (UTC)

87
Simon and Redmond huddled behind a small concrete wall as bullets flew in a horizontal rain around them. The wall was thick enough to absorb direct hits, but the edges were beginning to deteriorate under the constant fire.

"How many of them are there?" demanded Simon as a nearby explosion blew several Rangers into a bloody mist. He was too pumped with adrenaline to acknowledge their deaths.

Before he could explain that the question was rhetorical, Redmond peeked over the wall. He immediately was forced to duck as a clump of bullets whizzed through the spot his head had been a millisecond earlier.

"Lots," he told his superior.

"That's not very descriptive!" Even over the radio and at close range, Simon had to scream to be heard over the noises of battle.

"A lot of lots."

The situation was completely out of hand. Simon's first instinct was to get to cover as far away from the mob as possible, but anyone who so much as started to run from their position would be lacerated by bullets. He fingered a smoke grenade.

"Here's the plan," he told Redmond. "We both pop all of our smoke and then pitch all our grenades while the smoke gets out. Then we run like hell until we find somewhere indoors where we can take cover. Got it?"

"Yeah." Redmond had already pulled out his smoke grenades.

They hurled the grenades over the wall and crouched low, counted to five, and tossed the grenades after them. Simon heard the explosions and screams from those who were not killed instantly, and not for the first time wished there was a way to eliminate sound completely from inside the helmet. After another five second count, he turned to Redmond.

"Alright, lets move-"

He stopped. Redmond wasn't there. Simon turned to see if the Myrmidon had bailed out early, but their was no sign of him behind the wall. Feeling a sudden pang of fear slash through his chest, he looked over the wall.

Redmond was charging into the smoke, Battle Rifle blazing. Over the radio Simon could hear an incoherent war-cry being screamed.

Just as he was about to yell at Redmond to turn the other way, a wave of nausea swept over him. Something weird was going on with his vision...

Simon didn't know what happened after that until he reviewed the video logs from his own helmet, and once he had he wished he hadn't.

"We've got the crash site comin' up!" Artemis yelled over the roar of the Warthog's engine. "Lots of hostiles, so don't mess up on that gun!"

Apollo choked back a retort and readied his gun. The crashed chopper was approaching and he could see muzzle flashes from the survivors defending it.

The first rebel came within range and the HPA agent cut him down in a hail of bullets. Just as the next few came into sight, strange bubbles enveloped his vision and he was lost in a world of training and instinct.

88
Strangely, after Jamal caught up with Gabriel and Helen, they had made it to the crash site before the HPA agents.

They had gone through back alleys, blew through houses, jumped across roofs, and finally made it to the sight, and saw the smoking wreckage in the distance.

The three booked it, and finally linked up with the Rangers.

Helen, on instinct, took out her SPNKr, and aimed for where the largest concentration of fire was. The high-explosive rocket screamed away and slammed into the wall of a building, and the fire ceased from that sector for a while. Gabriel automatically had taken out two snipers with his SRS, and was now aiming for a third, while Jamal began to work with the Rangers to get out the pilot and co pilot. -- <font color="White">SPARTAN <font color="White">-002 <font color="White">[The Hero] <font color="White">[The Team] <font color="White">[A New Chronicle] 02:13, 26 January 2009 (UTC)

89
Jon raised his fists and punched one of the advancing people in the face, and ran into the building. He didn't bother checking if the man was down, he needed to secure himself. and fast.

"COMMAND! I NEED SUPPORT, NOW! My squad's down and I'm su-"

Jon cut off as he felt a sharp pain in his knee, but he knew the pain, and as he glanced left, a cocktail, mostly likely flammable came at him, and everything seem to slow down, the bottle spun lazely in the air, but Jon knew he had to act now, and he strode forward, and what seemed to be impossible for the guy who threw it, Jon catched the bottle and threw it right back at the guy, and saw he had a Pistol on him, but he would wait until the guy stopped burning... the smell of burning flesh overtook the groundfloor. <font color="Green">Love is Noise   Love is Pain  Love is these blues  20:10, 26 January 2009 (UTC)

90
SPARTAN-G024 and HPA Agent 2024 made it outside only to find the smouldering wreck that was their base. Amy and Maria where behind a wall popping out every now and then to fire, the HPA ran off. Josh didn't care he needed to help his comrades. Bullets impacted into his armour, just below the knee. He stumbled slightly but the pain didn't bother him. His SPI had taken most of the impact. He dropped to one knee and fired twice into the advancing Hostile. ''Tap, Tap. Job Done.'' He thought and smiled. A technique he taught his Myrmidons. A technique which was very useful now. He ran over to his comrade's and took cover behind the same wall. He made a hand signal telling Amy and Maria to move. They did. Amy first while Maria provided cover. Amy reached her postion and fire a 3-round burst into the group of rebels which were getting too close. Maria next.

"Move it!" Joshua screamed.

Maria ran, Battle Rifle raised. Dropped to one Knee to kill a closing hostile, was just about to continue running when a round caught her in the faceplate and fell without making a sound.

"NO!" Amy screamed.

"Get her!" Joshua ordered "We are NOT losing another Team Member!"

He swapped from Semi-Auto to Full Auto. Aimed at the nearest hostile and held the trigger down. The bullets tore through the rebel's face. It spewed blood. 16 Round's left. Another hostile came screaming "PEACE ON MIDGARD!"

"Fuck off." He said calmly and preceded to shoot into the rebels chest.

Amy had grabbed Maria under the arms and was dragging her back into the dormitory's. Josh fired a couple more times and he ran out of BR 55 DM-R ammo and then fell back.

Lieutenant   Mc  Callan  20:41, 26 January 2009 (UTC)

91
Midgard

The pod hurtled downward, its hull glowing with an unseen fire, the product of rubbing of a million tiny particles voicing their silent objection to its violent progress. If meteors and comets were portents, then this one bore nothing more than news of death.

2000....1000....The pod's altimeter a cascading flow of ever-shrinking numbers....impact.

A small car packed with gun-wielding rioters were the first victims, the titanium hull ruthless crushing the thin sides of the car, pulverizing human flesh and bone, smashing on to finally come to rest in a pile of rubble in a crumbling wall.

The pod crashed open, revealing an armored figure, staggering from the force of the blow, but ready for action. Stunned, the rioters did not react. The man simply pulled the trigger.

The roar of the chaingun was a reassuring sound. Its throaty grumble a refreshing chance from the impotence of being bombarded by impersonal foes. Ackerby simply kept the trigger depressed, the parked Heron's door gun spitting tracers at the Molotov-wielding pack determined to destroy TF 51's aerial transport, the once proud Herons and King Pelicans lying prostrate, naked upon the ground, vulnerable in the extreme.

A graying man fired a pistol, a genteel man who might have been a teacher or a doctor on a quieter day, but now was just another body surging forward with destruction on its mind. The bullets hit in a crimson spray, and the man joined the small hill of corpses gathering.

Ackerby glanced at the round counter, fired a last burst and leapt off, heading for the next Heron in the line, ready to turn it into a crouching iron fortress, ready to hold out as long as he could.

"Fall back!" It was more of a scream than an order. Santiago Nordmann was used to being the attacker, and now he was the defender, his small-unit SPECWAR 6 team a mere chip in the tidal wave baying at their feet.

Gunfire rose and felling in a staccato symphony of tragedy, UNSC men and rebels falling, transfixed by the fire of their opposite numbers, men fighting forthe same cause: survival.

Nordmann emptied his SMG, slammed a new clip in and kept firing. Even if he was overwhelmed, he was going to take plenty with him.

Lee rolled behind the concrete block, an edifice which had once guarded delicate electronics, but now protected Lee's equally delicate frame. A civilian, Lee's only protection was his wits and a thin shirt, not the advanced body armor of the special operators.

Grasping his pistol (how pitiful it seemed now) Lee peeked around the edge of the block. And then he saw it. The flags winging their way above the surging mob like violent birds. Each one different. Each the emblem of a group as different as the one it rubbed shoulder with in the swirling mob.

The rebels. Were they a divided cause? Could they divided upon themselves? Could Task Force 51's very survival lie in turning the rebels against themselves?

But questions do not win wars, only actions sparked by questions.

FightWithHonor

92
The crash site was now in full view as Artemis rammed her foot on the Warthog's pedal. She snarled a curse when she saw that the SPARTANs had somehow beaten them to the target. Strangely enough, Apollo didn't bother to offer one of his usual snide remarks from his position on the chaingun. He was blazing away on full auto without even bothering to let up as he switched between targets.

The three SPARTANs seemed to be helping the injured out of the downed chopper while watching for snipers, so Artemis began to circle around the site. "Cover 'em with the gun!" she yelled to Apollo. "Priority on anyone with rockets!"

Once again, no response. He was acting weird today.

Artemis took her frustrations out on a lone rebel who had the misfortune of getting in the way of the speeding 'Hog. She'd need plenty more kills than that to keep up with Apollo's body count on the chaingun. Pulling to a stop directly between the chopper and the oncoming mass of rebels, she pulled out her sidearm and readied her grenades.

It was going to be a rough ride.

93: MASCALSIT (Mass Casualty Situation)
Disclaimer: All the small-molecule chemicals and factors described in Directive 5-62 are real. The long-acting biological and chemical factors do exert real effects on musculature and endurance, and were in fact recently extensively banned from the Olympics because of their effects. The short-acting psychotropic compounds are also real, and their effects in Operation: BRUSH RUNNER, the mock battle we've been fighting, are possible. Hopefully you can trust and understand that the literature supports the existence and reality of these factors and chemicals, and also hopefully you can become concerned by how the military or others can effectively have precise control of body and mind even in today's time. Skeptical? Read on. Hope it wasn't too much of a piss-off for all of you. :P

UNSCSOCOM Task Force 51 (TF51) Midgard, 11 Draconis System FOB Hotel California

3/2 Strikefast (UNSC Army Special Operations Aviation)

The military is a bureaucracy. It is characterized by efficiency; by the vertical transmission of orders and reports, of subordinates relaying intelligence to superiors who are at the nerve center of a complex command-and-control system where intelligence is readily received, analyzed, and decisions executed, and these directives are relayed back to subordinates for immediate execution. The military removes independent initiative, and systematically subjugates independent thought, and in its lieu, each soldier is no more than a remotely-controlled puppet trained to fight, kill, and later, die, because of the word of a commanding officer.

Such were the fliers of the 3/2 Strikefast company of the 5th Special Operations Wing.

And there they were, eight AV-99 Foray gunships, an entire rotary-wing Army aviation company, held high in abeyance in Midgard’s skies while their compatriots skirmished and died beneath their glistening wings. They did not commit their weapons; guns and missiles of tremendous magnitude; to the battle, thought their committance to the battle could have saved their comrades.

For one Foray gunship, Golf Five-Six, had been downed, with the complete loss of its crew.

And for the UNSC Special Operations Command, the life of ground infantrymen were far cheaper than that of a fully-armed Foray gunship. UNSCSOCOM would rather an entire company of soldiers die than to send one of the vulnerable Forays into an operations zone.

And so 3/2 Strikefast held position in the skies, valkyries of heaven against 11 Draconis’s brilliance, and the dying special-operators of Task Force 51 could only fixatedly stare at the skies, wondering why their brothers were not rushing to their aid.

Fortunately, Task Force 51 was not in the control of a typical UNSCSOCOM commander, who would rather have FOB Hotel California and all its soldiers burn rather than sacrifice a gunship attack battalion; TF51 was in the jurisdiction of Vice Admiral Kawika Son, UNSC Special Operations Command, an experienced special forces operator who had shed blood at Cambridge, on the second Forerunner Dreadnaught, and on Carinae-312, a soldier in the field who had experienced every recoiling rifle, every crazed scream, every hellish moment of thick battle.

UNSC Army Special Operations Aviation doctrine lists that aerial gunship teams such as 3/2 Strikefast on the attack are capable of primary and secondary operations, reserve echelon support, deep reconnaissance, and security operations. On this day, 3/2 Strikefast would fulfill its first objective; primary direct-action support. The eight AV-99 Foray gunships of 3/2 Strikefast were supplemented by three other reserve companies to bring the entire UNSC aerial strength to one oversized attack gunship battalion (ATKGB).

The orders were relayed from the Task Force Commander, VADM Son, to the Task Force Operations Officer, LTCOL Mariko, to the Task Force Aviation Commander, to the Attack Gunship Battalion Commander, to the Primary Aviation Attack Commander, CAPT Delano.

“3-2 to Strikefast; firing authorization is three-kilo-nine-tango-oscar-whiskey. Hit ‘em hard. Attack team RED, you lead the game.”

And so they did.

UNSC Naval Special Warfare Group Six (NAVSPECWAR Six)

“We need you to provide terminal attack guidance for close air support, Chief” came the voice incessantly.

For Chief Petty Officer Laine Morrison of NAVSPECWAR Six, those words were long lost.

The camouflaged elevated terrain-reconnaissance post that had been their sniper roost had been long abandoned after it caught fire after multiple Molotov cocktail ignitions. As the harrowing corybantic cries of the mobsters had followed them and the collapsing tower, Chief Morrison and her spotter, Petty Officer Crusoe, had carefully retreated, depending on supporting fires from a nearby Ranger platoon to suppress the unrestrained mob and to “trim them down” as the two-man Navy sniper team had made good their escape.

The hellish, depraved bayings started behind her, and Morrison turned, her SOCOM BR55 DMR in hand, to see a horde of mobsters turn the corner, exploding forth towards them.

Without thought, she snapped several shots at the approaching horde, then lurched Crusoe and herself around the next corner.

Her voice was charged with fury as she screamed, “Mikklesen! Where are the Rangers?”

Automatic weapons fire exploded in a constellation of volatile conflagrations nearby, and a slew of fire indiscriminately wrested the life from the nearest mob. They were dead.

In the charged hell, she hadn’t noticed Crusoe’s incessant voice. She turned towards him, her chest heaving heavily from the exertion, the sunlight glistening over the long muscles of her neck.

“Laine, the Forays need guidance for their runs.”

She tossed a glance back towards Hotel California’s perimeter.

“What’s the need for guidance? They’re all over the fucking place.”

She heard the report of the rifle nearby, swiveled around the corner to find yet another drove barreling towards her, automatic weapons flashing.

And as she saw the dead and mutilated Ranger body they paraded before them, her world vaporized into crimson fury, into a depthless galaxy of consummate rage.

She dropped the SOCOM BR55 DMR, raised the 486 HMG, and screamed and screamed, drowned by the fiery sea beyond the darkness, screamed and screamed until there was nothing else.

They weren’t shooting anymore.

She looked overhead.

UNSC Special Warfare Group SPARTAN, Myrmidon Detachment Delta

The ironic thing was that they weren’t fighting.

With extremely few exceptions, this was a one-sided war, an indiscriminate slaughter. The civilians weren't fighting.

The mobs must’ve outnumbered Task Force 51 ten to one, but they weren’t fighting. With their limitless bodies, they were just hurling human lives at the UNSC special-operators, hurling human lives and having them shatter against TF51’s impervious shield.

As Eve-005 felt herself suffocate in the depravity around her, the enraged TF51 operators indiscriminately spraying fire, trapped within their own worlds.

Their own realities.

Where they saw as they believed.

The small-molecules hadn’t taken effect in the Myrmidons yet, and she knew that this was likely a side-effect that the cytochromes in their lives were already overwhelmed by the chemical cocktails that substantiated the child soldiers, that their metabolic systems were slow in processing the 5-62 chemicals to their active forms.

Eve knew she had little time before the drugs kicked in, and a chemical hand would inexorably seize her heart, where a chemical emperor would take lordship over her.

She had this little time to commit the scenes she saw to memory.

She saw civilians, chanting peace calls, marching civilly, being slaughtered by UNSC special operations forces. She saw TF51 soldiers shoot pregnant women, saw commandos cleave off body parts with hacksaws, saw the world dissolve into bloody hell, Orpheus consigned to the underworld.

Eve-005 defeated the System. She was beyond it. Beyond the UNSC’s military entrappings, how they destroyed lives to make perfect soldiers. She knew the Truth, and it was all she needed to know.

For example, she knew that 009762-OO, the supposed small-molecule mutagen that mutagenized the higher-order association cortices in the SPARTAN-IIIs’ frontal lobes to effect executive function, she knew that the “OO” was a lie.

What Lieutenant Commander Kurt-051 had based the decision to administer the 009762-OO to the SPARTAN-IIIs was based on mistruths and scientific ambiguities, from ONI scientists that had deadlines to produce miracle drugs before they paid for their lives; that the “OO” was as effective in inducing changes in behavior as sodium pentothal was in being a “truth serum”.

The UNSC Department of Biological Warfare and Commodore Rowntree had done extensive research. They understood mammalian neurobiology, the molecular and chemical biology of higher-order associative cognitive function. They had turned to real scientific research grounded in the neuropsychology of the 21st and 20th centuries.

Eve knew that the “blue pill” of Directive 5-62 contained a defined mixture of chemical and biological factors, made in stochiometric exacting proportions. She knew that the factors of 5-62 were divided into two regimens; a short-acting regimen and a long-acting regimen.

The long-acting regimen consisted of GW1516, A-769662, recombinant BMP7, and the adenoviral vectors Myf5-PRDM16shRNA and Snai1-MyoD.

GW1516, discovered by GlaxoSmithKline in 2003, was a transactivator of peroxisome proliferator-activated receptor (PPARδ).

A-769662, discovered by Abbott Laboratories in 2006, was a small-molecule ligand for 5’ adenosine monophosphate-activated protein kinase (AMPK).

According to Narkar et. al in 2008 at the Salk Institute in California and at the Howard Hughes medical Institute (HHMI), A-769662 increased running endurance by well over 40% even without exercise, activating a typically exercise-induced transcriptional program. GW1516, in synergy with exercise, induces a reconfiguration of myofibrils to a fast-oxidative type.

BMP7 executes cellular transprogramming to convert white adipose tissue to brown adipose tissue, and the anti-PRDM16 shRNA specifically knocks down PRDM16 expression and PRDM16-associated transcriptional activity in brown adipose tissue, executing a second transprogramming event to convert brown fat to self-reorganizing myofibrils, according to Tseng et. al (2008) and Seale et. al (2008) at Joslin Diabetes Center and Dana-Farber Cancer Institute (DFCI), both associated research centers with Harvard University, located in downtown Boston. Ectopic expression of MyoD in fibroblasts is a well-known cellular transprogramming phenomenon that converts mesenchymal fibroblasts to skeletal muscle, as documented by Choi et. al in the 90s at the University of Pennsylvania.

Effectively, GW1516, A-769662, BMP7, and the adenoviral vectors allowed soldiers to gain significant muscle mass and endurance without exercising. The drugs and viruses converted their bodies; fat and connective tissue, into muscle.

Without exercising, the TF51 soldiers would become stronger, faster, better.

While Eve had raised an eyebrow at this, it was, in her books, not unethical and immoral. If double espressos allowed soldiers to stay up longer and fight harder, drugs and viruses, though far darker, were ethically permissible.

What was far more sinister was 5-62’s short-acting chemicals. The psychoactive chemicals.

O-1783 was an enantiomerically-resolved aryltetrahydropropanyl methyl ester synthesized by Metzler et. al at Organix Inc. and Harvard Medical School in 2002 that was a potent inhibitor of the dopamine active transporter (DAT), increasing dopaminergic transmission.

(+)-WIN-55212 was an enantiomerically-resolved aminoalkylindole analog synthesized by Compton et. al at the Medical College of Virginia in 1992 that was a cannabamimetic that activated the human CB1 and CB2 cannabinoid receptors.

2-CE, IUPAC name 2,5-dimethoxy-4-ethylphenethylamine, was a substituted phenethylamine found to have an affinity with the dopamine and serotonin reuptake transporters.

JZL184 was a small-molecule inhibitor synthesized and optimized by Long et. al at the Scripps Institute in 2009 to be a potent inhibitor of monoacylglycerol lipase (MAGL), the first small-molecule probe that used that mechanism to increase 2-arachidonoylglycerol (2-AG) signaling.

Selegiline is a small-molecule inhibitor of monoamine oxidase B (MAOB), synthesized by Engberg et. al (1991) at the University of Göteberg, Sweden.

It was likely that at least a few of the Task Force 51 might have read the pharmacological labels of what the 5-62 “blue pill” contained before ingesting it. Of those few, it is highly unlikely that any of those had even remotely understood the molecular physiology and pharmacology of the listed four short-term small-molecule chemicals.

O-1783 and 2-CE were potent monomine transporter inhibitors, increasing dopaminergic and serotoninergic transmission. What few knew was that cocaine (benzoylmethyl ecgonine) and Ritalin (methylphenidate), both had the same mechanism of action.

Simply, both O-1783 and 2-CE were extraordinarily-optimized and vastly far more powerful chemical analogs of cocaine and the methylphenidates. 2-CE induced exceptionally intense audiovisual hallucinations and sensatory distortion and impairment. O-1783 extraordinarily increased short-term focus and attention, greatly heightening short-term memory and improving mental control and inhibitory refinement, as well as inducing strong euphoria. Selegiline, operating through the monoamine pathways, was similarly a potent psychostimulant, inducing extreme wakefulness, combating fatigue, and improving memory and attention.

(+)-WIN-55212 was an exceptional painkiller, inducing euphoria psychosis, performing sensory alteration, and decreasing control over reality and sensation. JZL184 induced strong audiovisual hallucinations, altering perception and personality, and wiping out stress and fatigue.

Collectively, Selegiline, 2-CE, the 1783, 184, and 55212 allowed for the chemical control of one’s mind.

Eve-005 thought it laughable how much UNSCSOCOM resorted to physical pain to destroy one’s humanity and to torture for information, when simply, using small-molecules, one could hold one’s mind in a chemical hand and distort it however horribly however it wished.

And now, Rowntree, through 5-62 was remotely reshaping all the soldiers of Task Force 51. For the next few hours, even for the next few days, they would be lost in their own realities, all their inhibitions and higher-level cognitive functions removed, humanities destroyed, deconvoluted to savagery, degraded to animals that were unable to think, only able to obey, focusing their short-term attention and memory, making them impervious to the killings, unable to remember the atrocities they were committing.

And then the 5-62 chemicals kicked in, and Eve-005 too saw a world of flashing rifles and screaming rebels, and she joined the charge.

3/2 Strikefast (UNSC Army Special Operations Aviation)

When Chief Morrison heard no more sound, no more rebels, it was for one reason.

The Forays of 3/2 Strikefast and the fixed-wing gunship battalion had flown dozens of strike missions. Thousands of rounds fired. There were so many mobsters and protesters that they were even authorized to fire anti-tank munitions.

Under the control of the chemicals, Hawthorne and his fellow fliers had no compunctions. He fired missiles that cratered tanks and buildings into crowds, shattering the lives of thousands, fired his gunship’s cannons until there was nothing left.

UNSCSOCOM fired, and rebels died.

New supernovae of fire birthed on Midgard, and children screamed.

Rifles blazed, and the elderly and pregnant dissolved into blood.

The Lampades ascended, and fingers were shorn from fingers, eyes were gouged from faces.

All that were left were the desecrated dead.

Not a single UNSC soldier had died.

The civilians had been slaughtered. Extinguished. Vaporized. Annihilated.

They were all dead.

They were dead. All of them.

“3-2 to Task Force. Objective confirmed. All hostiles neutralized. BRUSH RUNNER is executed.”

Only one mobster still stirred.

Strong hands seized him.

A less welcome accommodation awaited that civilian in Hotel California’s torture chambers.

RelentlessRecusant

94
It was over.

All over.

Blood stained the streets. Bodies were thrown everywhere. Craters marred the land, smoke spewing from their blackened holes, many with the remains of those who had been unlucky enough to been standing right next to them inside.

When Jamal and his team made it back to the base, they immediately went to their private quarters, which was in an isolated section of the base.

Inside of the small building, which was more of a house, really, was a kitchenette, a living room (complete with Public COM), three bedrooms, and each bedroom had its own bathroom. However, the real magic lay below the house, as there was a dungeon of sorts, where all kinds of weapons lay, as well as "back up armor".

Jamal helped Gabriel and Helen with their armor, and they, in turn, helped him out of his, and now, freshly showered, shaved, and groomed, Jamal flopped down onto the couch, and looked at the ceiling.

He was an old warrior, and old one indeed. However, after those massive hours that he had spent in cryo, his mind still worked as if he was a thirty year old, still single, still young, still vibrant.

They had rescued the downed helicopter crew, of course, not without those HPA agents. However, the one on the chaingun seemed to be acting strange, not prioritizing his targets like he should, not shooting when he was supposed to... it was strange.

Jamal wondered what Rowntree would do to that HPA Agent when Helen walked in.

"Hey, we're supposed to take these pills... they're apparently going to increase our combat performance..."

Gabriel, with a stunned look on his face, made his own comment.

"How are they going to increase our combat performance? We're the best in the business here, and, we've fought on more worlds than those IIIs and HPA agents combined", he said, with a chuckle.

"Eh... let's just take it, what's the worst that could happen? We're SPARTANs, so, if they decided to get us high or something, it wouldn't work.

"No, that only happens to you, Jamal. I've been drunk plenty of times, and Helen has been drugged. However, when they tried to do the same to you... you remained sober... I wonder what's up with that..."

Jamal laughed, popped the pill into his mouth, and washed it down with water. -- <font color="White">SPARTAN <font color="White">-002 <font color="White">[The Hero] <font color="White">[The Team] <font color="White">[A New Chronicle] 02:16, 28 January 2009 (UTC)

95
(Excuse my absence, school has been a bit rough as of late, and I know that my excuses for where Tobias and Conall have been are a bit, well, bad.)

Tobias opened his eyes to a bright white light; he looked away for a moment, and scratched his head, or tired to, as he couldn’t move his wrists. He looked though his blurry eyes and saw that he was in a hospital bed, and his wrists were restrained to the bed. He jerked his right hand expecting to break the restraint, but instead just pulled the bed a bit to the left. He looked closer and saw that the normal fabric of the cuff was replaced with a chain that even a Myrmidon could not break. A nurse walked by and saw that he was up, and walked over.

“Finally decided to get up have you?” she said as she fixed his IVs, and checked the cuffs.

“What the hell,” Tobias slurred, now feeling the effects of the drugs, explaining his inability to break the chains.

“You hit your friend, and then tried to take on the rest of the Myrmidon detachment when they tried to calm you down. They eventually knocked you out, and you were ordered to be sedated until further notice.”

“Shit,” Tobias said as his head hit the pillow, slipping back into a drug induced sleep.

Conall stepped of the pelican, back onto Midgard, back to his life; right after Tobias knocked him out when they were attacking the convoy he was sent away, still in recovery, to an awaiting ONI ship in orbit above. He had been chosen for experimental interrogation, and ONI needed him trained right away. He had heard what had happened to TF51 while he was gone, and a part of him was angry that he missed the action, but another part of him was glad, he could finally help TF51 in a more, direct, way.

He was shown down a series of corridors heading towards the bowls of the complex, until finally they came into a room with a large dark window into another. Both rooms had next to nothing inside them, the one they were standing in just had some recording equipment, both audio and video, and a few chairs for people to watch and make sure that he did not take things to far. The other room was bare, besides a camera in the corner, and an occupied chair. The man was half asleep, his hands handcuffed to the back to the chair. It was time for some fun…

Blake TalkWork