RP:Operation HELLFIRE

Rules

 * Rule 1: What I say goes
 * Rule 2: Try not to make dozens of posts before everybody else can reply :]
 * Rule 3: The obvious of no godmodding
 * Rule 4: If you want somebody to die, ask the owner of the character.
 * Rule 5: The RP occurs in the Necros Era
 * Rule 6: Forces will be divided up across multiple battlefronts
 * Rule 7: There is a death cap of four SPARTANS. Remember this though. SPARTANS are faster and tougher than Brutes, smarter, better equipped and even have the necessary armour to survive a direct gravity hammer impact. Try to save all your spartans for the REAL challenge later on ;]
 * Rule 8: The RP will be fought in a 'unusual' method, that will be detailed later
 * Rule 9: You can add your units up
 * Rule 10: We change phases, when I say we change phases. Comprende?

Rules on adding new units
The SPARTAN phase is strictly for SPARTAN units and for forces supporting them, AKA Task Force Lightning. The second phase is for all UNSC forces in general, if you want information of what kind of unit to add, or how to add, send a message to my talk page, and I'll maybe help some time soon ish, hopefully.

Order of Battle
The battle will be divided into 3 phases. When they change from one to the other is my order.


 * Phase 1: Training, preparation, introductions, transport
 * Phase 2: SPARTAN infiltration
 * Phase 3: UNSC Invasion
 * Phase 4: Taking the capital
 * Phase 5: End of the Operation

Introduction
General Order 707BThis order is to be shown to all UNSC forces prior to engagement and must be destroyed after reading, and deleted from local caches, under order alpha 61

''During the upcoming Operation HELLFIRE, we will be engaging the enemy on their terms, in their settlements, amidst their civilians. Due to the notorious nature of the Jiralhanae, and their natural aggression, strength and willingness to resist, the United Earth Government council passed this order. Any Jiralhanae civilians that resist the UNSC's invasion attempts are classified as hostile in the combat zones. Any civilian forces that enter armed conflict, or unarmed conflict, including physical violence, are to be classified as hostile and are treated as such. Any armed forces using civilian hostages, or using buildings vital to the civilian infrastructure, such as hospitals, governmental buildings, educational buildings and such, are verified as valid targets and green light on engagement must be passed by theatre commander (battalion) before engagement commences. Targets using human prisoners of war (POW) as living shields are to not be directly engaged. If used as human shields, disengage combat and resolve situation with specialised forces '' to recover hostages as safely as possible. ''Surrendering or injured combatants are to thoroughly disarmed, bound and placed under extreme guard. Any resistance or indications of a false flag operations warrant targets to be reclassified as hostile targets, and can be engaged in combat.''

Signed Fleet Admiral William T. Castle, Chairman of UNSC Military Operations

Operation HELLFIRE is the lynch pin in the much larger joint Operation FIRE. The overall aim of the Operation HELLFIRE was to decapitate the Covenant Remnant by severing their chain of command and demolishing their capital, while Remnant reserves were drawn elsewhere by Sangheili Republic, Imperium, Plainsfierian and Machina forces. While other elements of Operation FIRE were diversionary attacks, designed to draw out forces, while also destroying vital Covenant military capabilities, HELLFIRE was a mass invasion aimed at taking ground from the enemy and destroy their leadership.

The plan was simple. While diversionary operations were diverting the bulk of the Remnant forces away, the UNSC would infiltrate their core sectors with a captured Remnant ship bearing false flags and disable their orbital defence grid. Once it has been rendered ineffective, the UNSC would begin their invasion, with several battle fleets and the aim to overwhelm the Brutes with sheer numbers, and drop down enough invasion forces to simply shock and awe their way through their defences. The over all aim is to destroy their armed forces, capture the major settlements and industrial areas and take the capital, along with taking the leadership of the Remnant, dead or alive.

Force Composition

 * Task Force Lightning
 * UNSC Campbeltown
 * UNSC Eidolon
 * UNSC Highwind
 * UNSC Yggdrasil
 * UNSC Where Eagles Date
 * UNSC Hortensia
 * UNSC Black Lagoon
 * 117th Special Operations Regiment
 * 11th SCARE Regiment, 3rd Battalion
 * 12th SCARE Regiment, 4th Battalion


 * Task Force Thunder
 * 8th Fleet
 * 10 battle groups
 * Transport Division Three
 * 13th Fleet
 * 10 Battle groups
 * 16th Fleet
 * 10 Battle groups
 * Taskforce Echo
 * 33rd Fleet
 * 10 Battle groups
 * 3 Cruiser Flotillas
 * 4 Destroy Squadrons
 * 4 Frigate Squadrons
 * 8 Marine Expeditionary Forces
 * 7th Marine Expeditionary Force
 * UNSC 8th Marines Expeditionary Force
 * 25th Marine Expeditionary Brigade
 * 16 Army Divisions
 * 1 STO squadron
 * 1 SRS Squadron
 * 2 ODST Battalions
 * 10th Shock Troops Battalion
 * 2 Force Reconnaissance Regiments
 * 1 Raider Regiment
 * 2 SCARES Regiments
 * 1 PSAT Regiment
 * 1 SF Squadron
 * 1 AIA squadron
 * 1 Commando Battalion
 * 2 Army Ranger Brigades
 * 2 STAB Brigades
 * 1 AC Brigade

Sign up

 * Ajax 013
 * Dread
 * Actene
 * Norman-123
 * Sgt.johnson
 * CF001
 * Spartan 119
 * Lordofmonsterisland
 * Spartan 112
 * Masterchief46517
 * Spartan G-23
 * Spartan-091
 * SPARTAN-501
 * SPARTAN-118
 * Carpe

Sgt.johnson's Characters

 * SPARTAN-290
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: Indigo Company, 1st Battalion, 117th Special Operations Regiment
 * Rank: Lieutenant (O-3)
 * Equipment: BR09 Battle Rifle, M108A1 CAWS, dual-Angel Arms Cutlass, M7B Tactical Knife
 * Dammit
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: Indigo Company, 1st Battalion, 117th Special Operations Regiment
 * Rank: None
 * Equipment: M9K Canine Armor
 * Connor Anderson
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: Special Reconnaissance Service
 * Rank: Major (O-4)
 * Equipment: M10 PDWS, M47 Compact Pistol, M4 Folding Knife
 * Malcolm Lennox
 * Factions United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: 18th Special Operations Company, 10th Shock Troops Battalion, 105th ODST Division
 * Rank: Staff Sergeant (E-6)
 * Equipment: BR09 Battle Rifle, M6L/S PDWS, M3B Combat Knife

CF001

 * Francis Davidson
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:25th Marine Expeditionary Brigade
 * Rank:Brigadier General
 * Equipement:M2A holographic forarm Grip


 * Spartan-A067
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit:Squad Athens
 * Rank:Sergeant
 * Equipement:MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System


 * Spartan-A099
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit: Lambda Squadron
 * Rank:Captain
 * Equipment: Battle Rifle 09 Scoped Rifle, Sniper Rifle System 99G-S3 Anti-Material, M108A1 Close Assault Weapon System


 * Mary Lee Davidson
 * Factin:UNSC
 * Unit:Battlegroup Everest
 * Rank:Vice Admiral
 * Equipement:UNSC Everest


 * Spartan-A107
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:Lambda Squadron
 * Rank:Second Lieutenant
 * Equipement:Spartan Laser, M73D Carbine, Heavy Battle Rifle 11


 * Jordan Davis
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:UNSC 14th Nomad Fleet
 * Rank:Fleet Admiral
 * Equipement:UNSC Shōkaku


 * Lily Stewart Davidson
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:3th Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Expeditionary Unit
 * Rank:Sergeant
 * Equipement:MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System


 * Gary MacTarvish
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:3th Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Expeditionary Unit
 * Rank:Lieutenant
 * Equipement:HBR-11


 * Spartan-A067
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:Squad Athens
 * Rank:Sergeant
 * Equipement:MA6A


 * Spartan-A008
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer second Class
 * Equipement:M73D Carbine


 * Spartan-A033
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer Tird Class
 * Equipement:BR09


 * Spartan-A042
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer Tird Class
 * Equipement:M90D Close Assault Weapon System


 * Spartan-A027
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer Tird Class
 * Equipement:M81C Ultra Light Machine Gun


 * Spartan-A019
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer Second class
 * Equipement:Spartan Laser


 * Spartan-A022
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer Tird Class
 * Equipement:Battle Rifle 09 Scoped Rifle


 * Spartan-A106
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer Tird Class
 * Equipement:MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System


 * Spartan-A081
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer Tird Class
 * Equipement:Battle Rifle 09 Scoped Rifle


 * Spartan-A040
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer Tird Class
 * Equipement:M73D Carbine


 * Spartan-A004
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer Second class
 * Equipement:MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System


 * Spartan-A092
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty Officer Tird Clss
 * Equipement:Battle Rifle 09 Scoped Rifle


 * Spartan-A020
 * unit:Squad Athens
 * faction:UNSC
 * Rank:Petty officer tird class
 * equipement:M73D Carbine


 * Genevieve Tanner
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:1st Special Service Force
 * Rank:Colonel
 * Equipement:M73D Carbine,M7A Sub Machine Gun


 * Isabella Portelli
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:1st Special Service Force
 * Rank:Colonel
 * Equipement:MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System, M10 Personal Defence Weapon system


 * Jim Ambrose
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:3th Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Expeditionary Unit
 * Rank:Major
 * Equipement:Battle Rifle 09 Scoped Rifle


 * Steve Daniel Huang, Senior
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:226th Infantry Battalion Excalibur
 * Rank:Colonel
 * Equipement:Sniper Rifle System 99G-S3 Anti-Material


 * Camille Stewart
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit:Battlegroup Everest
 * Rank:Captain
 * Equipement:UNSC Okinawa

LOMI

 * Riker-012
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: Kilo Company
 * Rank:
 * Equipment:


 * Kilo Company
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Equipment: Various Weapons, Equipment, Armor, Vehicles, etc
 * Members:


 * 12th Naval Squadron
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Equipment: Various Space Fighters
 * Members:


 * Dekd Nok
 * Faction: Kig-Yar Pirates
 * Unit: Kig-Yar Pirates Command
 * Rank:
 * Equipment:

SPARTAN 119

 * Ross East Jr.
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit: UNSCAF 3rd Special Operations Squadron
 * Rank: Lt. Col.
 * Equipment: F/I-905 Claymore, I-660 Spear (secondary aircraft), M98 Compact


 * Nanook Kalaluit
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit: UNSCAF 3rd Special Operations Squadron
 * Rank: Major
 * Equipment: F/I-905 Claymore, I-660 Spear (secondary aircraft), M6L Personal Defence Weapon System


 * David Kilgore
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit: 3rd Armored Division
 * Rank: Captain
 * Equipment: M-1050 Brown Bear Anti-Heavy Walker Vehicle, M2A Light Assault Rifle, M6L Personal Defence Weapon System


 * Mattias Eriksson
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit: 3rd Armored
 * Rank: 2nd Lieutenant
 * Equipment: M1000 Tiger Heavy Battle Tank, M81C Ultra Light Machine Gun, M98 Compact


 * Michael Price
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit: 77th Airborne
 * Rank: Lieutenant
 * Equipment: M99C Special Application Scoped Rifle, Battle Rifle 09 Scoped Rifle, M98 Compact


 * Sarah East
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit: 77th Airborne
 * Rank: Sergeant
 * Equipment: M389B General Purpose Machine Gun, M41B2 Medium Anti-Vehicle/Assault Weapon

Actene's Characters

 * SPARTAN-A294
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: SPARTAN-IV Bravo Company
 * Rank: First Sergeant
 * Equipment: MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System, M13 Machete, Personal combat blade, M84 Wolf exoskeleton


 * SPARTAN-B030
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: SPARTAN-IV Bravo Company
 * Rank: Private
 * Equipment:: MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System, M6L Sidearm, M47 Sidearm, M13 Machete, M7B Tactical Knife

Norman-123's Characters

 * SPARTAN-G124
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: SPARTAN-IV Ghost Company
 * Rank: Second Lieutenant
 * Equipment: MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System, M90D Close Assault Weapon System, M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, M13 Machete


 * SPARTAN-G198
 * Faction:UNSC
 * Unit: SPARTAN-IV Ghost Company
 * Rank: Gunnery Sergeant
 * Equipment: M1091 Sniper Rifle System, M7A Sub Machine Gun (two), M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, M13 Machete


 * SPARTAN-G066
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: SPARTAN-IV Ghost Company
 * Rank: Staff Sergeant
 * Equipment: MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System, M90D Close Assault Weapon System, M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, M13 Machete


 * SPARTAN-G091
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: SPARTAN-IV Ghost Company
 * Rank: Corporal
 * Equipment: MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System, M90D Close Assault Weapon System, M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, M13 Machete


 * SPARTAN-G150
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: SPARTAN-IV Ghost Company,
 * Rank: Lance Corporal
 * Equipment: Battle Rifle 09 Scope Rifle, M41B2_Medium_Anti-Vehicle/Assault_Weapon, M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, M13 Machete


 * SPARTAN-G084
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: SPARTAN-IV Ghost Company
 * Rank: Private
 * Equipment: Battle Rifle 09 Scope Rifle, MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System, M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, M13 Machete


 * SPARTAN-G112
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: SPARTAN-IV Ghost Company
 * Rank: Private
 * Equipment: M113 Scout Rifle System, M90D Close Assault Weapon System, M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, M13 Machete


 * James Hafson
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: Sandstorm Squardron
 * Rank: Senior Airman
 * Equipment: M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, B-9E Shortsword


 * Gordon Duster
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: Sandstorm Squardron
 * Rank: Captain
 * Equipment: M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, B-9E Shortsword


 * Jerry Hills
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: Sandstorm Squardron
 * Rank: First Lieutenant
 * Equipment: M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, B-9E Shortsword


 * Kyle Stevens
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: Samurai Squardron
 * Rank: Captain
 * Equipment: F-406 Katana, M6L Personal Defence Weapon System


 * Robert Stanley
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: ODST, attatched to task force thunder
 * Rank: Major
 * Equipment: M90D Close Assault Weapon System, MA6A Individual Combat Weapon System, M6L Personal Defence Weapon System, M5 Folding Knife

Masterchief46517

 * Chris Johnson
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit:
 * Rank: Staff Sergeant
 * Equipment: MA6A ICWS, M57, M3B Combat Knife, HBR10HB-SR or M113 SRS


 * Kevin Johnson
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit:
 * Rank: Second Lieutenant
 * Equipment: MA6A ICWS, M57, M3B Combat Knife, M122 LMG or M90D CAWS


 * Alias Jackson
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit:
 * Rank: Sergeant
 * Equipment: M2A Light Assault Rifle, M57, M3B Combat Knife, M13 Dragon Modular Assault Walker


 * Redmond Jacobson
 * Faction: UNSC
 * Unit: Taskforce Echo
 * Rank: Rear Admiral
 * Equipment: UNSC Wellington

Spartan G-23

 * Graham Aker
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: 25th Highlander Regiment
 * Rank: Colonel
 * Equipment: M98 Compact, MA6A ICWS

Spartan-091

 * SPARTAN-091
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: Indigo Company, 1st Battalion, 117th Special Operations Regiment
 * Rank: Commander (O-5)
 * Equipment: BR09SR Designated Marksman's Rifle, SRS99G-S3 AM Sniper Rifle


 * UNSC 8011-10 JLT (Juliet)
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: Indigo Company, 1st Battalion, 117th Special Operations Regiment
 * Rank: N/A (System AI)
 * Equipment: Neural Link


 * Gordon Lydecker
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: 18th Special Operations Company, 10th Shock Troops Battalion, 105th ODST Division
 * Rank: Gunnery Sergeant (E-7)
 * Equipment:


 * Jennifer Wolf
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: 18th Special Operations Company, 10th Shock Troops Battalion, 105th ODST Division
 * Rank: First Lieutenant (O-2)
 * Equipment:


 * Madison Carson
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: 18th Special Operations Company, 10th Shock Troops Battalion, 105th ODST Division
 * Rank: Sergeant (E-5)
 * Equipment:


 * Lee Deacon
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: 18th Special Operations Company, 10th Shock Troops Battalion, 105th ODST Division
 * Rank: Staff Sergeant (E-6)
 * Equipment:


 * Ambrus Kovách
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: 18th Special Operations Company, 10th Shock Troops Battalion, 105th ODST Division
 * Rank: Corporal (E-4)
 * Equipment:

SPARTAN-501

 * SPARTAN-144
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: Lambda Company, 1st Battalion, 117th Special Operations Regiment
 * Rank: Major
 * Equipment:


 * SPARTAN-338
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: Lambda Company, 1st Battalion, 117th Special Operations Regiment
 * Rank: First Lieutenant
 * Equipment:


 * Katerina Nevsky
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: 18th Special Operations Company, 10th Shock Troops Battalion, 105th ODST Division
 * Rank: Gunnery Sergeant
 * Equipment: M6L PDWS, BR09, M99C SASR


 * Maria Williams
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: 112th Naval Squadron, attached to Taskforce Arrow
 * Rank: Captain
 * Equipment: F-406 Katana


 * James McHenry
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit: UNSC New York, attached to Taskforce Arrow
 * Rank: Admiral
 * Equipment: Zeus-class Super Carrier

Carpe

 * Christian Chinnault
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit:
 * Rank: Staff Sergeant
 * Equipment: BR09, M57, M3B Combat Knife


 * Rafael Ortiz
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit:
 * Rank: Corporal
 * Equipment: AIE-486I HMG, M10 PDWS, M3B Combat Knife


 * Kali Britten
 * Faction: United Nations Space Command
 * Unit:
 * Rank: Lance Corporal
 * Equipment: M12 SMG, M77 ECQCS, M7 Tactical Knife

Dread

 * Charles-K113
 * Faction:United Nations Space Command
 * Unit:
 * Rank: Sergeant
 * Equipment: MA6A ICWS+M025 Rocket Launcher, M6L PDWS+AN/PVS-78 MONOCLE, M13 Machete.

SPARTAN-118

 * Section 2, Backfire Squadron
 * Faction:United Nations Space Command
 * Unit:Bravo Company
 * Rank: Various
 * Equipment: Various

Parkster

 * Novus
 * Faction: Covenant Remnants
 * Unit: Novus's Stalker Sub-pack
 * Rank: Stalker Ultra
 * Equipment: Stalker Rifle, Stalker Pistol, Combat Knife, Incendiary & Stun Grenades

Phase 1
The two golden visors stared at each other from opposite sides of the hallway, subtle hand gestures and head motions dictating the course of action. The more petite figure tucked closer to the wall and pulled a thunder flash grenade from their assault rig, depressing the red trigger. A few seconds later, the titanium alluminide spoon clicked. The user used their thumb to flip the spoon up to the armed position, giving another click, then immediately tossed it into the hallway, not bothering to look. It bounced once, the sound echoing through the silent corridor then immediately flashed a bright silvery-white. Almost immediately there were cries of anguish from inside the corridor. The SPARTANs both ducked around the corner and levelled their rifles, firing in short controlled bursts, the flashes from their barrels illuminating across the sheen of the purple walls. They fired the last burst, the brass casing impacting on the floor, echoing once again through the empty corridors. The SPARTANS looked to each other again and nodded. They quietly rose up and crept forward, passing through the thin wispy smoke cloud generated by the combination of their gun fire and the flash bang.

“Harry, are we clear?” One asked, his voice crackling over the communications

“Yeah, patrol is down in section three-alpha, proceeding to section four-alpha to reunite with Brimstone one three.” She responded, taking the lead

Harry-B019 moved forward, slowly holstering her rifle on her IMP and retrieving the small shotgun from beneath the back and unfolding the stock and clicking it into place.

“Yari and Izzy should of called in by now.” Kyle radioed back, moving up behind her

As they moved up the corridor their motion detector gave out a short bleeping, motioning a target was moving right towards them.

“Hostile contact, left side!” Harry shouted, ducking to the right side of the corridor and levelling her gun. The bulkhead door unsealed and a Brute stumbled out, flailing his arms in the air. There was a SPARTAN on his back, one hand holding onto his helmet, the other on a blade jabbed deep into his neck and legs wrapped around its chest. It stumbled, one last gasp of breath escaping, then fell onto its chest. With a wet noise, the SPARTAN with drew the knife and calmly shook off the blood, then holstered it. Another SPARTAN entered through the bulkhead, carrying his rifle at his hip.

“Izzy, you’re late!” Kyle grunted, berating him

“Sorry Kyle, this big guy dropped a jammer right on top of it. Yaritza neutralised him though, so don’t worry.” He said, laughing it off. Yaritza said nothing and just fell back into formation.

“Heard from Jude or Lars?” Harry asked, motioning for the others to keep moving.

“They’re at Staff Sergeant Bravo One Five Five’s position, taking hostile fire from multiple hostile packs.” Yaritza replied, barely even in a complete sentence. “Then we can’t wait, we have to go back them up.” Harriet replied, leading the team further down into the corridors, towards the sound of distant gunfire.

Matthias-B155 stepped out of cover for just a moment, long enough to get a burst off from his M2A, cutting down a oncoming Brute warrior, the high power SAP rounds punching through its chest plate with a distinct crunching noise.

“Left side, shifting fire!” Lars shouted, swinging his entire upper body, and his LMG with it. He opened fire, releasing an unrelenting stream of fire down onto another pack trying to step out of cover in the cargo bay.

“Nice job Matt, total cluster fuck.” Rebecca grunted, firing her SMG from her hip, the rounds impacting across the Brute’s chest, silver-orange sparks flying off it.

“Revy, calm down.” Damien shouted, firing his SMG over an upturned crate

“Just orders.” Matt replied “The Lieutenant is supposed to be getting onto out position soon.”

The bulkhead behind them opened, causing Meg, the rear guard, to level her rifle. Harry charged through, ignoring it, leading her unit it, then bunkering down to open fire.

“Is Alpha here?” Harry asked Matthias, crouching down in cover beside him

“We though Augustus was with you?” He responded, confused

“Fuck, we lost Augustus then.” She grunted “He must of broken off and gotten pinned down.

“Fuck this.” Rebecca grunted, dropping her weapon and drawing her two pistols from their holsters. She leapt over her barricade and lunged into closer cover, then began to fire both her pistols, cutting a number of them down.

“Rebecca, get back into formation, we have to wait until relieved!” Anton shouted over the radio

Unanimously, there was a bleep from their internal mission timers.

“What the hell, we’re timing out?!” Kyle exclaimed

“I thought Motoko was bringing her section down here to cover us out? Where the hell is she?” Meg asked

“Radio is out, the internal structure is messing with longer ranged comms.” Matthias sighed

As soon as he did, Jo leapt over their barricade and followed Rebecca into the fray, followed involuntarily by Meg. However, as soon as they all charged in, they became pinned down by overwhelming fire. The Brutes surged forth, out of sight of the rest of the Section, over running them near instantly, with a chieftain slamming Meg to the floor and then knocking Jo back. As soon as they both tried to engage it, they slammed into each other, neither co-ordinating with the other. As soon as they did, the mission clock hit zero, right before the chieftain could bring down his hammer. The Brutes, the cargo containers, even the walls faded away like mist, the holograms ending.

As soon as it cleared, both Jo and Rebecca leapt up to their feet, through off their helmets, and pushing each other.

“Jo you limp wristed bitch, I had the fucking kill shot!” Rebecca grunted

“Step off you fucker, it would of crushed you straight away, you don’t have the skill to take a chieftain on that close.” Jo growled

“Fucking say that again you bitch. I dare you.” Rebecca growled, bumping up to her chest plate, intending to try and make Jo step down.

As soon as she did, Jo sucker punched Rebecca in the face, knocking her back slightly, but she immediately recovered, socking Jo right in the eye. They soon descended into a brawl, with both of them being pulled away by each other, with both teams trying to separate them.

“Settle down!” Matthias demanded, getting between them, both of them having to be restrained by four Spartans

“Go to hell Matt, you can’t even organise a skirmish without Augustus to fucking baby sit you.” Rebecca shouted, not even realising what she’d said

Matthias looked to Rebecca, knowing what she said was perfectly true. He’d allowed them to get pinned down and strung out. He stepped back, almost ready to let them brawl again.

“Lance Corporal Bravo Zero Zero One, Private First Class Bravo Zero Two Three. Report to the gauntlet immediately, I want fifty runs, from both of you.” A PA announcement run out.

Above them, in a booth, their commanding officer looked down with despair.

“HIGHCOM is being characteristically unrealistic. There is no way we can get them ready for this mission in the three weeks we have left.” Mitchell said, leaning back in his observation chair

“We have no choice. We’re going either way. Too many cogs moving, too many things in motion.” Ajax said

“What went wrong down there?” Dawes asked, looking down on the Spartans.

“Spread out too far, in unfamiliar terrain, with little or no communications. Lieutenant B312 couldn’t unite them fast enough, they kept getting pinned down while trying to regroup after their objectives. Joyeuse, upload Objective Six Oh Four Charlie, and call in Buzzsaw for their run. Let’s see if they can fair better.” Ajax said, his tone neutral “Dawes, Mitchell, you can run observation, I’m going to go talk to B312.” With that he left, his polished boots clanking on the metal grating of the booth.

Amelia B312 was sat downstairs, in the foyer for the holographic combat exercise area, looking directly at her helmet, a twisted reflection of her face dancing across its curved surface. The lift pinged, and Ajax walked through, his eyes immediately locking onto her.

“Lieutenant, congratulations, you have a dead squadron of SPARTANS on your hands.” He said in a dead pan tone, whether he was being sarcastic or quite serious was beyond Amelia’s understanding of the man.

“Sir, there’s a number of operational problems beyond my control.” She said, not trying to rise to his bait “Communications, operational equipment and the plan.”

“You think the combat plan is flawed.” He asked, sitting down opposite her, looking straight at her

“I do sir. We shouldn’t have to infiltrate it in small teams and complete smaller singular missions.” She replied, her crystal blue eyes locked onto Ajax

“You’re right in that respect, but a single surgical strike leaves us open, and reduces our mission time.”

“But in that circumstance, we can complete our primary objectives much faster and more efficiently. There are other things we can do to improve the survivability of the mission plan on contact with enemy forces. Jacking internal fibre optic lines, forming an internal battlefront, set-” She said, before being interrupted by Ajax raising his hand

“All of those reduce time available for the mission, and then exposes us to their superior numbers. That’s why we decided on taking vital systems then performing a vacuum flush.” He replied

“Then there isn’t anything I can do.” She said, getting up

“Don’t take it the wrong way Lieutenant, but this is the way it must be done.” He said, getting up and passing her

“You have excellent leadership potential.” He said almost patting her on the shoulder, but flinching at the last moment. “Don’t let your unit run rampant without you.”

He left, leaving Amelia alone. She looked back to her visor then flipped the helmet in her hands and stood up, her armour shifting. She tucked it under her arm and left to meet her waiting unit.

“Okay, I want all section leaders to run close quarters combat drills for three hours, then take a rest period.” She said to the unit, who all looked slightly disheartened at that result. She dismissed them then walked away, being followed by her XO.

“So, what’d the boss man say?” Raina asked, carrying her helmet in her hands

“That we’re following that plan, no matter what.” She replied flatly.

“Huh, well I guess we have to adapt or die.” She replied

“That’s what we do best.” Shephard replied from behind her “There’s no alternative for us.” Raina just let out a short, bitter laugh and shrugged her shoulders, leaving both of the SPARTANS somewhat perplexed by her nature.

Rebecca leaned back in the chair, keeping the icepack to her head, groaning intermittently.

“Come on Rebecca, it couldn’t of hurt that much.” Lars asked “Jo has a shit left hook.”

“No, I fell on the stepping stones and hit my head twice during the fall.” She sighed

Lars was about to laugh when the door opened up and Second Lieutenant Augustus stepped in.

“Everybody out, except Jo and Rebecca, get out.” He ordered

Everyone silently filed out of the recreation room and left just the two Spartans sitting down, both with bruised faces and black eyes.

“I heard about the fight you ladies have, and you need to sort that crap out, or I’m rotating you to different units.” He said

“What about you boss man, where the fuck were you?” Rebecca asked

“Me and the gunny got pinned down outside our objective and had to fall back. We ended up timing out too.” He frowned “That’s beside the point. I didn’t run into him and give him a black eye.”

“Yeah... okay boss man, we fucked up.” Revy frowned, looking to Jo, who just averted her gaze.

“I’m putting you on both on a team building exercise, starting immediately.” He frowned “You’re both getting dropped in the reservation with zero gear. If you aren’t back here by tomorrow morning, you’re both being moved to different units.”

With that, he left, leaving the two alone.

“Well, we better make it work...” Jo said quietly

“You know Jo, you’re a completely different bitch without a gun in your hand.” Rebecca laughed, taking the icepack off her head and standing up. She took Jo’s hand and helped her up “I don’t think either of us want to leave this sweet gig.”

12th of April, 2612, Port Midgard, Manheim, Omicron Orionis system, 1500 local time

Commodore Gabriel Lilico stood on the observation bridge between Seibzehn and Achtzehn decks, quietly observing Manheim. He leaned on the burnished steel railing, waiting the pale yellow sun seemingly rise over Manheim. As it did, he could see the silhouettes of Ruhr station and Rotweisse rise across the horizon of the planet. Numerous MAC stations blotted the view around him, with several civilian freighters rising from the surface and numerous freighters rising from orbital lift terminus stations, mostly UNSC, though the occasional deep purple, whale like hull of Sangheili transports, and even a white Imperium transport, here to trade materials of war. He rubbed his finger along the bespoke railing, until the sound of approaching footsteps interrupted him. He turned to face a vice admiral, with a weathered, pale face, greying facial hair and a scar running from his chin to right ear.

“Lilico, I’m glad you came.” He smiled, shaking his hand ecstatically.

“Good to see you too Doggett. How is ONI treating you these days?” He smiled

“You know, secretive this, secretive that. Never been busier, but it’s worthwhile work he said, grinning from ear to ear, before his smile faded “I heard about what happened on the Ullr.”

“Typically brass.” Lilico frowned “I get celebrated for losing a ship, and allot of good people.”

“Lilico, you did well.” Doggett said, reassuring him “You got over half the crew off. Considering how catastrophic and sudden the damage was, it’s damn near a miracle.”

“I guess you read ONI’s review then.” He sighed, turning around and learning on the railing

“The review was quite flattering actually, which is why you got promoted to Commodore.” He said, leaning over the rail to observe Manheim

“I haven’t been commissioned to command a vessel in 3 months, what does that say to you?” He said, interrupting him before he could reply “What it means is, desk job.”

“The reason I asked you to come up here, was on behalf of ONI.” He said

“No way am I becoming a desk spook.” He said, turning around, in revulsion

“No. ONI needs a good ship captain for a new vessel” He said, beckoning him to follow him

Lilico followed onwards to dock Dreizehn, where ONI prowlers usually parked up between combat missions. As he stepped after him, he noticed a substantially larger vessel parked there, different from the usual sleek prowlers, though not indifferent.

“ONI is handpicking you to be the captain of one of their new stealth carriers. Lilico, this is a once in a life time opportunity.” He said, leading him to the dock observation pod

“What’s it for?” He asked

“Deep strike missions in concert with special forces. You’ll be assigned to Task Force Lightning for an upcoming UNSC operation, you’ll be further briefed on taking command. Do you want to take command of her?” He asked

“How long do I have for a shakedown?” Lilico asked, looking down on her.

“Under a month. The current XO is the expert on the stealth systems.”

“Okay, I’ll bite. Tell me more.” He asked, turning to his friend, a smile creasing his lips for the first time in weeks.

“She started life out as an Odin-class Carrier. She underwent substantial upgrades to her hull structure to increase her stealth capacities. Along with that, her computer, communication, electronic and cyber warfare systems have all been improved.

“And the shakedown cruise?”He asked, still staring at her ship.

“Escort the rest of the Task Force to Arcturus, to pick up a number of special packages, then return to Manheim and make your final preparations before your first combat operation.”

“Well, last thing is.... what’s her name?” He asked, running a hand through his short, close shaven hair

“The UNSC Eidolon.” Vice Admiral Doggett responded

Lilico firmly shook Doggettt’s hand as a gesture of thanks, still looking on his new ship “Treat her well Lilico, she deserves the best.” He smiled

12th of April, 2612, Sydney, Earth Sol system, 0300 local time

There was a faint buzzing, as the phone rang, prompting Romanova to rise from her bed, struggling with her long red hair. She fumbled, reached for the phone, hitting the loudspeaker button.

“Hello, this is Major General Romanova, who is this.”

“It’s Castle, sorry for the early call Alex.” The voice responded, in a neutral voice, with faint British undertones.

“Late call Bill. Are you on Manheim right now? What time is it?” She asked, rubbing her face

“Just gone one six hundred. I thought it was two three hundred there?” He asked, his voice slightly distorted

“Yeah, plus four more hours. Good thing we don’t pay long distance, what’s wrong?”She asked

“Just got word from your man Doggett that we now have the Eidolon operational and preparing to jump to Arcturus for her shake down. Task Force Lightning is operational. Once the last few battle groups I called in arrive, Thunder will be operational as well.” He responded

“Bill, I know you’re the chairman of the security committee but... did you call for a reason?”

There was a short, distorted chortle from the phone, which almost unsettled Romanova.

“No, I do have something for you. BLACK ROOK is on the move, he told me himself. He’s send a small number of task forces to aid us. The others already know.”

“That’s good at least.” She yawned “But I need my sleep Bill.”

“I’ll leave you to it Alex. Night.”

“Night.” She replied, hanging up.

She crawled back into her bed, settling under the covers and rolled over, before a thought came to her.

“That means, they’re going in to cover their tracks. ROOK is thinking too far ahead.” She thought to herself, before shutting her eyes.

Okay ladies and gentlemen, for the first phase of the RP, you can use it to create introductory posts for your characters and units, introducing their training and such. BTW, nobody is going to be informed of the mission’s nature until they’re en-route.You have about 4-3 weeks, in RP time. Navy, marine and Army forces are positioned at Manheim and Arcturus, though ultimate gathering point is Port Midgard, Manheim.

1
Crack! The lone sound of the sniper rifle hitting a incredibly fast moving target, that was moving as fast as your average ghost in the firing range sounded out.

''Crack! ''Another rifle fired, although it missed the bullseye.

"It looks like I win." SPARTAN-G198 said.

"It Looks like I win, SIR." SPARTAN-G124 said, frowning.

"Oh, come on. You're just jealous."

There was a silence.

"Shut up."

"Is that an order?"

"Yes."

"If I don't obey, are you going to court martial me?"

"Yes."

The friendly bickering continued, the two lone voices in the firing range arguing while half-listiening to the dumb AI announce their scores.

"Sir, twelve seraphs closing in on us."

"Affirmative." Captain Kyle Stevens called over the unit com.

There was a flash of plasma, and Kyle Stevens rolled this Katana to the side and fired this TITAN lasers. There was a satisfying boom as the banshee exploded. Kyle brought his Katana up, firing several air-to-air missiles at another banshee. The banshee exploded again.

"Sir, enemy reinforcements are moving into position."

Kyle glanced at his radar. Shit. Before he could give a response, a blast of plasma hit him, shaking this fighter. Double shit. Kyle aimed his air-to-air missiles again, taking down another seraph. Just then, the alarms in his Katana sounded, and a blast of plasma hit him. Everything turned black for a second, then the words appeared in front of him, courtesy of his neural interface.

Captain Kyle Stevens

Vehicle: F-406 Katana.

Kills: 3 Seraphs.

Method of Death: Rammed by Seraph, then finished off by plasma canons.

Replay battle? [Yes] [No]

Kyle sighed unhappily. HighCom had, for whatever reason, made their simulations so much more difficult recently. He waited, as the various members of his squad returned to reality. The dumb AI announced that they had wiped out, in total, thirty banshees and 5/6 of the squadron were killed in action.

"Alright. We better try that again." Kyle said, irritated. There was a collective groan from the members of the squadron.

"I'm getting annoyed to, but orders from above. WAY above, apparently. So get to work." Kyle said.

There was an less-than-enthusiastic Oh-Rah and the simulations started again, for the upteenth time today. Norman-123 03:14, April 25, 2010 (UTC)

2
"Bandits, 12 o'clock, distance 60 klicks, ten smaller contacts, look like Seraphs, with twenty-five larger contacts, Probably Phantoms", Major Nanook Kalaluit said into the radio of his F/I-905 Claymore Heavy Fighter.

"Roger", Lt. Colonel Ross East Jr. responded, "Green light to engage"

Ross pressed his finger against the weapons selection touchscreen and selected his AIM-34 HORN beyond visual range air-to-air missiles. Ross then turned on the independent targeting system for the missiles, allowing him to lock on to six enemy aircraft. The lock tone filled Ross' ears as he pressed the weapon release button.

At once, six HORN missiles flew into the distance and disappeared over the horizon. Seconds later, six contacts, four Seraphs and two Phantoms disappeared from the radar.

Nanook Kalaluit, Brittni Skylar, Jean Robiechaud and several other of Ross's squadronmates fired their missiles, sending dozens of streaks of fire towards the Remnant aerial convoy. The radar showed that all the enemy aircraft had been cleared from the sky.... or had they...

Suddenly, Ross saw a massive contact on the edge of his radar, approaching fast. IFF marked it as a hostile vessel. A black dot in the distance appeared, quickly growing larger, revealing itself to be a Covenant Remnant Frigate.

"Covenant frigate incoming, burning through the atmosphere, ready your TALONs and stand by to engage", Ross East Jr. said into the radio as he selected his aircraft's TALON anti-spacecraft missile.

"You know the drill", Ross said "aim for the plasma torpedo tubes when it drops it's shields to fire."

"Incoming, more hostiles coming from the frigate, six Sera...", the transmission from John Archer was interrupted an explosion.

"MAN DOWN", Ross heard Nanook Kalaluit yell through his radio.

Ross quickly switched to AIM-11 CLAW short range air-to-air missiles fired at Seraph flying directly at him. Ross pressed the weapon release button on top of his stick. The missile flew at the alien fighter in a streak of fire, before exploding violently on impact, vaporizing the front half of the enemy aircraft.

Ross pulled back on his throttle as he pulled right, making his aircraft preform a sharp turn called a J-turn, before slamming the throttle forward to chase after a pair of Seraphs. Ross got the first Seraph in his sights and pulled the trigger. Ross's TITAN LASER fired, striking the alien fighter and blowing it out of the sky. Seconds later, Ross took down the second Seraph.

"Flight lead, be advised you have an enemy on your tail", Allie "Ditto" Allison's voice spoke through the radio. Plasma bolts flew past Ross' cockpit.

Ross pressed a button on the touchscreen. Several rocket propelled "mines" flew from the rear of Ross' fighter. The weapons behaved rather differently in an atmospheric engagement then in a space battle, rather than floating in space until something hit them, they acted more like backwards-firing missiles, homing in on the enemy aircraft and shooting it down.

Ross saw the Seraph explode in his aircraft's rearview monitor as Nanook Kalaluit reported "I've got the last two, skies clear."

"OK, time to deal with the frigate", Ross said as he readied his TALON missiles and turned towards the enemy vessel, followed by the rest of his squadron. Ross heard the lock tone and fired. Dozens of streaks of fire flew at the enemy ship, all of them going for the gap in the shielding near the plasma torpedo tube.

As the missiles flew at the Covenant ship, beams of purple light shot out from the ship, shooting down a few of the Claymores of Ross' squadron. Ross, as well of the rest of his squadron, however, pressed on, swerving to stay one step ahead of the Covenant point defense weapons. Eventually, one of Ross's missiles struck home, flying up a plasma torpedo tube and detonating the ship's plasma stores. The bow of the ship was blown off in a great fireball as Ross and the other surviving Claymores turned away from the burning ruins of the alien warship as it fell to the ground.

The surroundings out the window of his Claymore's cockpit disappeared as the simulation ended. The screen now read:

Lt Col. Ross East Jr.

Vehicle: F/I-905 Claymore.

Kills: 8 Seraphs, 2 Phantoms, One Covenant Frigate.

Mission Completed, Squadron Casualties: Six.

Replay battle? [Yes] [No]

Ross exited the simulator, and was closely followed by the rest of the UNSCAF Third Squadron.

"That was better, we completed the mission this time, but those casualty rates are simply unacceptable.", Ross said.

"What's up with HIGHCOM, setting the simulator to such a high difficulty level, The Bravo Kilos are nowhere near that good! I mean, we took down a cruiser at Kanna with no casualties, but that frigate took down more than half the sqaudron!"

"They're preparing us for something...", Ross said, "Something big", Ross then gave an exacerbated sigh, as he said "Well, lets try this again".

3
Three beeps, that's what he heard before Sigurd screamed towards the Earth. All he could do now is wait until he hit the ground. Looking through the external cameras, he could see hundreds of other HOPE pods descending with him, each held a brother or sister, a SPARTAN-IV. He checked the altimeter, 14,000 km from the surface. As the pods descended, he opened a channel to the other pods in his Squadron "1,500 km from atmosphere, prepare for the burn." The pods eventually cut into the plants atmosphere, and it suddenly got very, very hot inside the pod. Moments passed and the pods passed through the atmosphere, and suddenly anti aircraft emplacements opened up around the pods

"Keep on track, don't break formation."

He checked the altimeter again and it was at 20 km.

"You know the drill, form up on me when we hit the ground. We will proceed with our objective from their."

He looked at the outside cameras and saw where they were headed, it was a Covenant city, one controlled by the Jiralhanae. A Knife fighter flew in front of Sigurds pod, being pursued by two Seraphs. The fighter pulled hard in an almost vertical standstill, the Seraphs scream past not getting a shot off, and the Knife fired off its Lasers, knocking both Seraphs down before moving on. The ground got closer and closer, before the pod finally slammed into the ground. The front of Sigurd's pod shot off, he grabbed his assault rifle and rushed out, more pods landing around him.

Ten Spartans had arrived, flanking Sigurd. It didn't take long for the Brutes to descend upon the site. A small pack numbering twenty turned the corner into the street where Sigurd's section had just landed.

"This is Krieg Five One, we have hostile contacts advancing on our position preparing to engage."

Sigurd pointed down the road to the Brutes, who were advancing cautiously towards the landing zone. As they neared, Sigurd finally gave the signal to open fire. The road erupted in a firefight, as the Brutes rushed to find cover. A few made it and returned fire, forcing the Spartans to back off.

"Grenade!" yelled out one of the Spartans, who primed a M9 grenade and let it sail towards the Brutes. Some rolled out of the cover and were quickly cut down, the others were caught in the blast. "All clear!"

"Form up on me." Sigurd told the others in his section. He opened up a TACMAP of the area. Krieg 4-2 and 4-3 had landed nearby. "Krieg 4-2 this is Krieg 4-1, are you there Cain?"

"The Com was filled with the sounds of gunfire. This is Cain, good to hear from you Sigurd. Boris and his section got here but it seems they were tracked. We could use some support."

"Understood, Krieg 4-1 on the way." He closed the channel and turned to his unit "Lets move out, keep your eyes open!"

His unit had made good timing, and caught only a single Brute on the way. They had taken position left of where Cain and Boris' units were pinned. Inside what seemed to be a Covenant parking garage of sorts. Across from where the two sections were a pack of Brutes had set up a barricade, hoping to pin down and overrun the Spartans. He pointed downwards towards the enemy, and put a grenade into his MA6As attached M024.

"All units open fire!"

The section opened up. Some of the Brutes turned to face the new threat. Spikes flew past the Spartans, but the gunfire kept up. Some fell back, but were sniped down by section three's marksmen. After five minutes, no Brutes remained.

"Krieg 4-2 here, thanks for the support."

"Sigurd, on the way down I noticed a Brute convoy headed towards the main plaza, it cuts along our route, we could ambush them on the way."

"Good plan." He pulled up his TACMAP and placed a beacon on an intersection. "We can strike them here. My unit will be on this warehouse structure. Have India on this building, overlooking the area. Place explosive charges on the road and kill any survivors."

"Cain here, I see the convoy there approaching fast." The Spartan was hidden in an alleyway with his assault team, in front of where the explosives were set.

"Wait until they are right in the middle and detonate."

They waited, until the lead Shadow had passed and all charges detonated. In moments the convoy was in flames, the Shadow was thrown off to the side from the force. A Slasher IFV stopped and Brutes began to pour from its bowels, but were cut down by the Squadrons gunfire. A rocket impacted between the turret and the body and blew the IFV apart.

Within seconds a dozen vehicles were burning in the cities streets. Brutes were strewn across the pavement, one ran from a burning Crusher, its flesh was charred and it was screaming in pain. Sigurd walked over the helpless creature and spat on it, before bringing his axe down on its head.

"Good work everyone, getting reports that the city has fallen." A trio of Pelican dropships flew overhead. "Looks like this simulations over."

The area slowly began to dissolve, and Sigurd stepped out of the holographic area. Cain and Boris took up his flank as they headed for a debriefing.

"Good work on that burning Brute by the way." Cain sarcastically quipped.

"Group those shots! Your shooting worse than my blind grandmother!" Yelled out Captain James Gerard. He walked back and forth, watching as his newly assigned soldiers were missing their targets.

"Bah! Callihan! Get down here and shows these boys how to shoot!"

A scarred Marine stepped from cleaning his M6 pistol. "Yes sir." He stepped over to the weapons table and picked up an MA6A and held it tight to his shoulder.

"Step one! Hold the rifle tight against your shoulder. This helps you prepare for the recoil of firing your rifle."

Callihan fired off the rifle in quick four round bursts, leaving neat holes in the targets.

"Step two! Don't think you can go Rambo and keep your recoil steady on fully automatic. Fire in bursts and group your shots."

Callihan emptied the magazine into the targets, leaving four neat wholes in the chests and heads. He placed the rifle back on the table and stood next to the Captain.

"And that is how you use an MA6A, how you worthless shitbags ever got through basic training is beyond my comprehension. Keep training until otherwise." he turned to Callihan, who was looking awkwardly at the five recruits. "Callihan you are dismissed, thank you." He saluted, "Sir, thank you sir." and walked back to his barracks. It had been years since the Battle of Kanna, but he couldn't get the sights out of his head. Watching his friend in B Company die on the way to the beach, a squad mate torn apart by a Brute chaingun. He could handle it, but it still disturbed him.

112 04:02, April 25, 2010 (UTC)

4
Jared-091 stood over the holotank, knuckles propped on its edge, watching his newly-minted Spartans run the exercise again, after Ajax's boys and girls had filtered out. They took the approach in a much more textbook fashion, checking corners correctly, sprinting quietly down the halls when necessary, avoiding combat unless directly confronted. There were no outbursts or overt attacks, and all of the Brutes were taken down silently, usually from behind. Juliet sat on the small dais off to the edge of the overview map, legs crossed indian-style, her chin propped in her hands. She smiled faintly as she turned to the SPARTAN and said, "You trained 'em well, Jared. I guess that they really do take after their instructors..."

Jared said nothing, but nodded appreciatively and continued to study the actions of Indigo as they worked their way towards the objective. They communicated through closely-concealed handsigns and body language changes, very rarely opening the comms channel, save for the terse announcements of "Bravo Kilo down" and "Clear", and moved as a unit, covering the right sightlines and trusting their teammates to cover their own. They split and reformed as he had taught them, drilled into them, beat into their brains. Tactics that he had reiterated again and again, reinforced with more and more grueling physical punishments each time. The personalities of the individual instructors shone through, each one's unit showing their individual outlook on recon strategies. It was swift, it was deadly, and in a way it was beautiful... though perhaps that was just his happiness at seeing them all doing so well after so long.

Certainly, he could see them straining to reach the time limit, a sloppy knife stroke here, a botched shot there, but each slip was quickly corrected by one of their team mates. He had trained them-- as Jamal had suggested, as they had argued over and over again for so many times-- to think of their mates as family, to anticipate their movements, to know them as extensions of themselves, a truly integrated team. He had even experimented-- controversially-- with integrated neural intefaces, allowing the team members to get a taste of what their thoughts were the moment they had them. It moved fluidly and excellently, as they split apart to complete individual objectives. This was where it could get a little dicey, he remembered. They worked great as a team, but alone... they might not work as well.

They tabbed on their ac-cam settings, blending into invisibility and moving surprisingly silently for two-ton armored soldiers. And... there it was, the first slip-up. He winced slightly as Francesca got the attention of a Brute as she tripped up her sidestep around him. He spun, wheeling on the blurred object behind him, paws swinging heavily through the air. Frankie ducked and pivoted, catching him in the pressure point behind his knee. His leg sagged, seizing up, and he tumbled to the floor. Leaping upon him lightly, Frankie darted her combat knife up underneath his chin with a savage stroke and slicing viciously across his armored trachea. Digital blood sprayed and the Brute died with a gurgle and a spray of maroon mist. Jared relaxed a bit as she moved rapidly away from the scene of her violent deed. And that was it. The rest of the operation went as planned, and they combined once more, making their way briskly to the egress point. They passed the checkpoint just as the timer reached zero zero zero zero. Perfect. At least according to the estimates.

Jared clicked down the intercom button and said flatly, "You made it out in time, Indigo. You passed.  But that's not good enough for me.  Run it again, make it faster and with no slip ups.  I'm watching you, Francesca, Marty, and Van.  He could see their subdued groans and griping from the windows above and he smiled.  That had been him, so many years ago.  Just that thought brought back painful memories of his brothers and sisters in the program.  He shook his head and closed his eyes.  Juliet appeared next to him, resting a holographic hand on his shoulder as he stood up again and rubbed his greying temples.

"You did good, you know that, right? You and Jamal both.  Trained these guys and girls to their best."

"I know. I just hope it's enough." He turned back to the holotank and clasped his hands behind his back, aligning his armor's newly painted blue battle-stripes-- for Indigo-- with the other markings on his armor.

Oakley looked over at Frankie after the exercise finished. "Didja see those psych-jobs in Bravo go at it? Damn! It's a wonder they aren't all Section-8'd right out of the program!  An actual fight, and so much cursing and yelling!  Psychopathic, the lot of them."

She turned to him, green eyes glimmering, tucking a lock of sweat-soaked brunette hair behind her ear as she stowed her helmet in the pressurized armor locker

"To be fair, they definitely nailed more Brutes than we did, Oak."

"Well, yeah, but they were so disorganized! I mean, all over the place, only limited comms--"

"Oak, shut it. We're on the same team.  There's no need to get so competitive about it." She hopped on one body-suited foot as she struggled to grab the fastener tab on the bottom of the foot. "Ugh, can you help me get this?"

Oakley put down his assault rifle, slotted his helmet into the correct socket, and closed the locker with his biometric thumbscan before heading over to help his friend out. She sat down as he found it and popped the seal, then kicked him playfully in the face. He sprawled out on his back before leaping to his feet in a combat crouch. Reflexes were funny things. He peered at her through watering eyes, mock-betrayed expression on his face as he said in a puppies-have-died voice, "You set me up!"

She grinned wickedly as she made a dash for the women's showers, body suit's loose parts flying behind her.

Oakley rolled his eyes and began working on his own suit.

Gordon Lydecker sat on the observation deck, staring at the large hi-res holographic display of the space outside the UNSC Colorado's outrageously thick battleplating, his officer counterpart, Jennifer Wolf, at his side. The faint strains of Tchaikovsky that waltzed through the background were courtesy of the 18th's recent acquisition of new ECW equipment, and the team's ready adaptation to them. The rest of the first were spread out throughout what was intended to be an all-personnel lounge, but what turned out to be the ODSTs equipment-storage room and private club. All of the ship's complement of Shock Troops hung out in the room, and most of them had added a nice memento to the decor, which consisted of various shards of metal, Covenant anatomy, alcoholic beverage bottles, battle flags and spray-stenciled logos. It was personalized to the extreme. They had even rigged up the high-res holo by linking it into the ship's external sensor array through a series of quality redirects. The brass, officially, frowned upon this exclusivity, but seeing as the Shock Troopers were so effective, it was technically okayed for "morale purposes". There were a few Marines who had earned the Helljumpers' respect that were allowed in, but most of them were shooed away by the mood that was so obviously emanating from the area.

"Op's coming up," Wolf said quietly. "Scuttlebutt has it that were going to put the full-stop on the Remnants."

"Capital?" Lydecker said more than asked. "Makes logical sense to me. Question is, how the hell are we gonna get them ready for this?"

"Good question," spoke a gravelly voice sitting across from them. Captain Cielo's face was marred by several deep scars and pits from the countless battles he had participated in. Grey had already started to shoot through his black hair, brought on not by old age, but from pure stress. Not that he ever showed another sign of the weight of being the 18th's commanding officer. The man was hard as nails, the "blood and guts" type passed down from all military history, unflinching and authoritative. He had great respect among the men and women of his unit, which was why he was here at the moment, withdrawn from the group but still making his presence known. He was hard to read. "How do you think you stand?"

"Well, sir," Lydecker said, "I'd have to say that we're mean and green. We do have a few rookies amongst us, and I'd planned on running them through some high-stress tac sims and a lot of PT."

"Noted, Gunny. I'll take that into consideration.  Lieutenant, what are your thoughts?"

Jennifer uncrossed her legs and sat forward, then put her drink to the side. "Sir, I think that we've done enough. It's no use stressing them further. As we go through the drop, things happen, random chance.  I know that, on the ground, they are ready.  They are prepared.  They've got their ammo counted and their armor squared away, and they can kick those Brutes' asses back to whatever goo they came from.  So barring all chance, we've got a good chance."

Cielo nodded. "This is about what I've heard from the other leaders, and it's appropriate from where I stand. It's good to hear that you've got the majority of your personnel prepped." Standing, he stared out the "window" for what seemed to be a long while, taking occasional sips from his glass before turning to them once more.

"We shall see," he said bemusedly. "Where this takes us. Sergeant. Lieutenant." He nodded and strode of purposefully.

Lydecker shook his head. "Who knows what he's thinking about. He probably has every conceivable strategy down.  I know you and I've got plenty."

He sighed, and hoped they were indeed ready. This was going to be the worst of it, that was certain. Where the shit hit the fan. He took another sip of his rum and turned his attention back to the room, and to the woman at his side.

-- SPARTAN- ' 091 ' [ ' Bureau ' ]    [ Talk ] 06:10, April 25, 2010 (UTC)

5
'''15 April, 2612. Simulation ground 12, Bravo Company compound, Camp Sparta, Arcturus, Arcturus System'''

The clatter of gunfire ripped through the late night, along with several small explosions.

First Lieutenant SPARTAN-B122 and Gunnery Sergeant SPARTAN-B147 concentrated on what was happening downrange. In the current exercise, the objective was for the two teams of Section 2 troops to fight one another in a town, both simulating a loss of the Command section. So far, both SPARTAN-IV teams had performed outstandingly. But, then again, they had trained for years for this. The two SPARTANs had devised a simple system to ensure the best training for each of the Sections two teams; Darcy-B122 was in charge of training Assault team Alpha, radio code 'Backjack 2-1', while Kevin-B147 trained Fire team Bravo, with the radio code 'Blackjack 2-2'.

The simple way to simulate a kill in this competition/training was to use the sensors in the armor to lock up sections of the body if hit, and lock up the armor completely if killed, making for a fairish competition.

The Assault team was, obviously, assaulting the town, with the Fire Team holding it. The Fire Team had the advantage of height and more ranged weapons, but the Assault team had the advantage in close quarters battle, and specially trained for urban combat. Both teams already had combat experience from WARDOG, although a lot of that experience was drowned from boredom during the battle. This exercise was also a friendly competition between Darcy and Kevin, for the victor and his team would bragging rights on the loser, until the next exercise rolled around in a week or two.

Together, they watched the Assault team storm the town, and the Fire team rushing about to set up a perimeter.

Darcy chuckled evilly, as he stroked his cat Khalid, as his Assault team neared the perimeter of Kevin's fireteam.

The pair traded threats, jokes, and insults between themselves as they watched their SPARTAN subordinates fight for bragging rights. After a 5 minute firefight, Assault team Alpha ended up winning, leaving only Staff Sergeant SPARTAN-B122standing, but Fire team Bravo lost every man in the team, losing even with a heavy machine gun. But it had been close, only a well placed shot or two changed the outcome for the assault team.

Bragging rights were gained, money changed hands, and morale rose. All in all, a successful exercise.

6
"Sir, enemy reinforcements neutralized." Spartan-G066 shouted over the com

"Nice work, Spartans."

Major Robert Stanley wasn't surprised. The massive convoy of shadows would have taken hundreds of marines, plus air support to take out. But somehow, five SPARTANs had eliminated the shadows.

"Alright. Now. Get the objective. We'll cover your back." Robert Stanley shouted The "objective" was a single prophet. As if the covenant were making an answer, two phantoms flew overhead, and began flying down.

"Alright marines, we've got company. ROLL OUT THE WELCOME MAT!"

The welcome mat concisted of hundreds of rounds of fully automatic assault rifle fire, a few rockets and sniper rifle rounds, and to finish off the single brute captain ultra, a single blast from a SPARTAN laser.

SPARTAN-G066 and his fire team ran inside the building. He had to admit, the covenant had a natrual talent in interior design. If you didn't count the various paintings of glassed human worlds.

"DEMON! RUUUN!" THe shout of a grunt interupted Neil's thoughts. Maria ran ahead and slashed the grunt's methane breather in two with her combat knife.

"DIE, DEMON!" Another grunt came charging at him. Neil fired a quick burst with his assault rifle and the grunt fell. That did it for the rest of the grunts. A collective "RUN AWAAAAAAY!" was heard by the grunts, before they were shot in the back.

"Damn grunts. HATE their squeaky voices." Megan complained.

"Well, they're easy to fight. Unlike the brutes." Carl replied. As if in response to his statement, a single brute captain minor stepped out, twin brute plasma rifles in his hand.

"Demons. Your death will bring me much-" The brute didn't get to finish his sentence, on account of five guns firing at him at once and killing him.

"You know what? Scratch that. Brutes suck." Carl said.

"Just get the prophet. Never mind how much brutes suck or not, even though they are pathetic" Neil said.

They made their way across a massive purple chamber.

"One more hallway, and the we're at the prophet's chamber." Neil said. Two jackalls spotted them. One raised his energy shield in one hand, cutlass in another and charged. Neil waited until he was close, then kicked him. The cutlass went flying, and the jackall went right after the cutlass. The other jackall fired his plasma pistol. It bounced off Carl's shields, and Carl shot him. Just then, two brutes-Neil noticed that they were ultras-ran at him and his squad.

"Supressing fire." Neil ordered. The squad fired at the brutes, who flinched, howled and died.

"Now. The Prophet."

The prophet was floating in a gravity chair, a few meters above the spartans. Six Jiralhanae Honor Guards protected the prophet. There were also various brutes and jackalls around.

"It ends here, demon." The prophet said.

"It appears not." Neil replied.

"It appears SO." The prophet replied. The door burst open, and a single brute chieftan, followed by his two bodyguards, and about twenty brute captains. Dammit. Neil cursed.

"Put up a good show, demon. I want to watch." The prophet said.

"Sure. There's audience participation too." Neil replied. Then he leapt at the prophet. The bodyguards moved to stop him. ''BANG! BANG! ''Two blasts from his shotgun took down one honor guard. He meleed another one, then jumped onto the prophet's chair. He meleed him four times, then fired again at the honor guards.

"HELP! HEEEELP!" The prophet shouted. The honor guards moved in to obey him-only to be cut down.

The fight wasn't exactly one sided. Carl went down in a deadly crossfire. Maria was hit twice by a gravity hammer, and Bill took out a few brute captains before dying too.

Neil glared at the prophet, then smacked the energy shield one last time. The shield flickered and died, and Neil smiled.

"Goodbye." Then he fired his shotgun at the prophet once. Everything faded to black, and was replaced by a few yellow words.

SPARTAN-G066

Kills: 88 grunt minors, 41 grunt majors, 12 jackalls, 32 brute minors, 22 brute majors, 12 brute ultras, 2 brute captain minors, 1 brute captain major, 2 brute captain ultra, 4 honor guard brutes, 1 prophet.

Mission Cleared. Casualties: 127 Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, 3 SPARTAN-IVs.

Replay Mission?: [Yes] [No]

Neil selected "No." Then he let reality return to him, feeling a sense of happiness. Finally. The simulation they had been working on, and failing for the past week now, along with about two hundred ODST's had FINALLY been passed.

"Well, Staff Sergeant, we finally did it." Major Robert Stanley said, walking over to him.

"Yes sir."

"Did you die?" Carl asked, interupting them.

"No." Neil replied.

"Yeah. Got hit by a banshee's fuel rod cannon." The major replied.

"Yeah. Now. Guess we have another stupidly hard simulation to look forward to after the break, eh?" Neil said.

"Sadly."

Norman-123 14:56, April 25, 2010 (UTC)

7
Christian Chinnault squeezed the trigger on his battle rifle, sending a three-round volley straight through the faceplate of a red-armored Grunt. Shifting his aim, he fired three quick bursts into another target, this time the Brute leading the weaker Unggoy. The alien roared and fired a sustained burst from his spiker rifle in the marine's direction. Chinnault held his ground, firing a few more bursts into the beast. With a great howl, the Brute crumpled.

Chinnault stood and slung the rifle over his shoulder. Drawing the M57 holstered at his side, he began speaking orders softly into his COM. "Raf, Kay, move on up to my position. Raf, be ready with that big gun." Taking up a position behind a large building, he waited for the others to arrive.

Two short clicks confirmed the transmission of his orders. A minute later, two other Marines reached Chinnault's position and took cover with him. "What next, Chris?" asked Rafael Ortiz. A large, muscular Hispanic, Ortiz held a light machine gun in his hands lightly, and on his back was slung a shortened M108A1 shotgun.

Kali Britten merely checked her weapons, silent and reserved as usual. For a short, almost petite woman, she carried an ridiculous amount of weaponry- she had a submachine gun and an automatic shotgun slung on her back, as well as a long combat knife in a chest sheath.

"There's a Covie gun position ahead," Chinnault began. "Kali, you and I will move on through those two buildings to get inside." He indicated a pair of structures resembling apartment buildings. "Raf, you're going to get up on that hill and lay suppressive fire for us when I signal." Rafael nodded and stood, running to his destination. Kali drew her shotgun and looked to Chris for confirmation. Chinnault nodded, and the two moved ahead.

Kali went in first, shotgun held at stomach height. At these ranges, the 12-gauge rounds would blow a Brute in half. However, the sound alone would almost certainly doom them. Chinnault followed, pistol in hand.

Chinnault turned a corner and swore. Three Grunts sat in the corridor, playing some sort of dice game. They looked up and squealed, reaching for their weapons. Chinnault's pistol barked four times and the Grunts went down, methane leaking from their masks. Behind him Kali screamed. Chris turned to see a Brute Minor charging, mauler raised to fire. Kali lay on the ground, bleeding from the abdomen. Chris emptied the magazine into it, but the fourteen rounds did nothing but anger it. He felt a sudden pain as the blades of the weapon stabbed into his chest, then the world faded away.

Chinnault stood and swore loudly. "What the hell is HIGHCOM playing at?" he asked Kali, who stood next to him. "This is ridiculous. The Brutes in this sim moved faster than any I've ever seen, and the last one took fourteen rounds without flinching!"

Kali shrugged. "They've got some op coming up, my guess being against the Remnant," she offered- no small amount of words from her.

Chris shook his head. "Well, obviously, but if you want to look at it like that, there's no way this is just some snatch-and-grab raid. This is gonna be big. Did you see the sims? It looked like a residential area. We're fighting on their home turf."

Kali shrugged again and turned to watch Rafael, who was still alive. A monitor above him showed what he saw in the sim.

Chinnault turned and walked to the mess hall, wondering what was going down.

8
"I want those tangos down" yelled Spartan-A099 A099 pulled out his shotgun and fired it full automatic round in the uncomming brutes.

"Look like i have to do all the job" Since the end of OPERATION:WARDOG the regiment were trainning harder that never be before. Highcom was planning something big something that would lead to the end on the Covenant. Of course nobody knew wath this magor operation would be. For the first time in 60 years the UNSC, the USR, the Planisfer, the Machina, and the other nation member of the AUR would launch a full scale assult to broke the back of thr Remnant.

Everyone in camp Spartan were busy every compagny had a job to do dependung of there role. Lambda squadron has just finnishing his trainning and everyone were cleanning their own rifle after a long day in reconnaissance simulation everyone were tierd and at this point they this would become even harder when it would become a real fight C F <font color=Teal>00 <font color=Teal>1 16:35, April 25, 2010 (UTC)

9
Jamal-002 viewed Indigo Company's fourth run at the assault course, wearing olive-drab fatigues instead of his usual MJOLNIR Mk. VII armor. Even though he had stayed in that armor for nearly the past seventy years, it still felt bulky, and it felt good to just wear normal clothes for a change.

Over the previous runs, the fire teams had nearly done things perfectly, working together to eliminate brute packs one by one. Their integrated neural interfaces allowed for each team member to know what the other team members were doing, and if one team member slipped up, their reaction times were as such to allow for a correction to be made. He had argued many times with his superior officer, Jared-091 over their training; Jared had taught them to rely on no one but themselves, but Jamal wanted them to work as a team. Their preferences were shaped over countless battles - Jamal had fought with a team for most of his early military career, and his team was wiped out when they stopped functioning as a team and started going lone wolf. Ever since 2552 he had served alone, and he hated it. Jared on the other hand had always served alone, functioning as a long-range target acquisition and elimination specialist - Sniper. It was rumored that his marksmanship had only been second to Linda, and it showed.

He watched the teams maneuver stealthily and quietly, using all of their equipment to maximum efficiency. The marksmen would drop those crazy Jackal rangers in short order, and then would begin to cover their comrades on the ground as they quickly designated their targets and dropped them before someone could say "brute". That was the peculiar thing - Jared had fostered independent and creative thinking in each of them, and every single one of them probably could operate alone just as well, if not better as they did with a team. Jamal had fostered a team-based approach to their operations. This contrast had strangely led the trainees to act like the famous D-boys of old, capable of making snap judgement while at the same time having the capability to operate in small, precise teams.

Jamal watched as one trainee quickly mantled over a low wall, sneaking up behind a low-ranking Brute. When one of the Brutes in the simulation had seen that trainee, one of the trainee's team members used HBR11 to precisely take out the alerted Brutes while the others separated and completed their objectives. The trainee that had been spotted ended the Brute by jumping onto its back and driving their combat knife deep into their throat, cutting several major arteries and veins. All of that was done in the space of less than two seconds.

It was impressive, and it would have to be. Scuttlebutt said that HIGHCOM was planning an operation to take down the Remnant once and for all - something that he should have been privy to, but he wasn't. For now, Indigo's edge was about as sharp as it was going to get without breaking that edge.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the door into the TOC open. It was a very disgruntled MP holding an utterly massive dog on a leash.

"What's the problem, Officer," said Jamal in a slightly sarcastic voice, chuckling at the sight.

"The problem, sir, is that this mongrel came up to my post and decided to piss on my leg," replied the MP.

"Alright, give him to me," said Jamal, while dismissing the MP.

The MP walked up, handed the leash to Jamal, and saluted before performing a crisp about face and exiting the TOC.

"Aww, Dammit. Did you seriously have to go and piss on the pogues leg?"

"Rarf!"

"Good boy," said Jamal while patting Dammit on the head, and giving him a bone to chew on before going back to watch the rest of the exercise. -- <font color="White">Sergeant Major <font color="White">Avery Johnson  19:57, April 25, 2010 (UTC)

10
12th of April, 2612, in orbit around Arcturus 2000 local time

As Admiral Jacobson watched over Taskforce Echo from the bridge of the Wellington, he wondered why Echo was ordered to report to Arcturus immediately after they had finished ambushing a small Remnant convoy. He figured that something big was coming as they several Battle groups in orbit around Arcturus. But what is something that even the he couldn't figure out.

As Chris checked his weapons, he know that careful maintenance would insure that they was ready for whenever he would need them. But he couldn't shake the feeling that the his greatest test of his career was near.

As Kevin lay in his bunk, he couldn't help but wonder what the UNSC was planning. All he know was that several units were amassing around Arcturus, he even heard that other forces were at Manheim.

Kevin finally couldn't take the waiting anymore, so he decided to head to the shooting range for some target practice.

12th of April, 2612, an abandoned town, Arcturus 2025 local time

As the wind blow, a M13 Dragon come around a corner and fired off two missiles followed closely by a few rounds from its M68A2 Gauss Gun. As the practice targets blazed, Alias smiled as he scored a 90% on the range. After he was done practicing he called for a Pelican to take him back to the Chicago.

The one thing that none of them knew was that one of the UNSC's finest moments was coming.

Second Lieutenant  Keith Johnson   com link 23:08, April 25, 2010 (UTC)

11
''War never ends. It just needs to take some breathers from time to time in order to get its wind back.''

This, Shephard-A294 realized, was a fundamental truth about the galaxy, one that had been proven to him time and time again throughout his life. When he’d been huddled in an orphanage back on Mamore, the death cries of his parents and sister still ringing in his ears, it had seemed to him that everything was over: his past, his future, even his life. But he had been wrong: there had been a new life and future waiting for him, delivered by a well-dressed man asking him if he wished to help save humanity. He’d said yes; he’d agreed to sacrifice everything for the SPARTAN-III program. That simple agreement, coupled with his own stubborn resilience, had given him new purpose in a world that had ceased making sense with the death of his family.

In the calm, welcome darkness of his quarters, Shephard crouched against the far wall and casually examined his assault rifle. His bunk was directly in front of him, but he rarely used it for anything other than sleeping. Operation: PROMETHEUS had conditioned him to be ready for an attack at any moment, and the habit had carried over into all aspects of his life. To sit down was to leave oneself vulnerable to an attack, and so Shephard rarely sat down on anything. He had used walls to support himself so many times now that he no longer got aches in his knees, even after long periods of crouching.

His training on Onyx with the rest of Alpha Company had instilled in him the lethal skills and instincts that one needed to survive and succeed on the battlefield. It had given him speed, strength and knowledge. It had given him a purpose in life, a place amongst some of the finest troops ever forged from humanity’s innumerable ranks. It had given him many things, but its greatest gift of all had been his friends, his brother and sister Spartans.

He ran a hand across the assault rifle’s cold frame, his fingers caressing every niche and crevice in its surface. The weapon and many others like it had been Shephard’s constant companions on the battlefields he had traversed over the course of his career, and he made sure that it was always well-maintained and close at hand. To hell with whatever regulations there might be about unsecured firearms in living quarters; no one was going to separate him from his assault rifle.

His weapons might be the only things he kept close to him now, but an eternity ago there had also been his friends, his fellow Spartans in Alpha Company. He had trained alongside them, had made friends and cultivated rivalries with them, had mocked and outwitted the DIs with them. They had filled a void in his heart that had been left gaping open since the death of his family on that horrible, fiery day. By the end of their training, he would have gone through Hell itself for any of them, and they for him.

And they had.

On battlefield after battlefield, on planet after planet, they had ventured together into the depths of darkness, doing what others couldn’t--or wouldn’t--do. No matter what the enemy, be they Covenant or Insurrectionist, he and the rest of Alpha Company had always emerged victorious. Every time they headed into the fire, they emerged unscathed, a new victory under their belt and a new boost to their already soaring confidence. There had been nothing they couldn’t accomplish together. No challenge had seemed insurmountable to them. They had been invincible.

And then had come Operation: PROMETHEUS and K7-49.

They had landed on that miserable little asteroid and had done everything that had been asked of them and more. Wipe out the generators, render the whole facility useless; that had been the plan, and they had gone at it with all the confidence and determination that had served them so well in all the battles before this one. When the first batch of enemy reinforcements had arrived, they had kept fighting to finish the mission at hand. And when even more reinforcements had landed, when the entire company was facing enemy forces so thick that there hadn’t been a single street or alley that wasn’t swarming with hostiles, they had still fought on, ignoring their losses and remaining focused on the mission. It had been hard and it had been painful, but they had accomplished their objectives and done what they had come to do. They had won.

The only problem was that there was no where else to go after that, no way to get off of that rock. And the enemies had just kept coming like water from an open faucet.

Lieutenant Ambrose, CPO Mendez, and all of the other DIs would have been exploding with pride had they been there with them. Every one of them fought like tigers to the bitter end, just as they had been trained to do. Any other unit of grown men would have considered and even gone through with plans to give up and surrender, but all three hundred of the twelve-year old commandos in Alpha Company had waged bloody war against the overwhelming forces, never once considering the fact that they were fighting an unwinnable battle.

But they had been, and they had paid the ultimate price.

Shephard had watched them all die. Hails of plasma fire cut down fire team after fire team as the Covenant forces advanced on their positions. Energy swords decapitated those who were too slow to dodge the incoming blows and the wounded were set upon by ravenous Grunts and Jackals even as they struggled to fight on. The proud ranks of Alpha Company had been reduced to a few dozen desperate children fighting for their lives against an implacable foe. In the end, all of their years of training and experience, all of their boundless confidence and determination, all of it was useless in the face of overwhelming numbers. The friends who had become his new family had died and he had been left alone in the universe once again.

It was then, as he took cover in a gutted building, that Shephard had learned the true meaning of loss and hatred. He had mourned for his first family and hated the terrorists who had taken their lives, but this time he had the skills and equipment to take revenge on those who had orphaned him yet again, and somehow this had made his sorrow and hatred even greater. And there, as a child crouched against a wall just as he was now, an assault rifle not much different from the one he held now gripped to his chest, he had vowed to do whatever it took to make the filthy aliens pay for what they had done to his friends.

Back in the present, a small alarm chimed and claimed Shephard’s attention. It wasn’t often that he allowed his mind to wander like this, and he couldn’t quite understand why he had chosen now of all times to relive the past. But there was strength to be found there alongside hatred and sorrow and sometimes he wondered if there was any real difference between the emotions.

Using the wall to support his body, Shephard rose to his feet. He blinked laconically in the poor light. I’m wasting time. There were plenty of things he could be doing right now, from helping to monitor Bravo Company’s ongoing training sessions to practicing piloting his Wolf.

He crossed over to his bunk and seized his crumpled uniform up from the cot. Personal appearance had never been much of a concern for him, but regulations were regulations and that meant that he had to maintain some amount of military discipline. He would have preferred to express this required discipline through combat efficiency and respect for his superiors, but apparently skill and behavior alone were not enough.

With a sigh, Shephard let the assault rifle fall to the bed and began to pull the uniform over his white undergarments. The removal of the uniform revealed a straight, dark sword sheathed in a matching scabbard. It was one of the few physical reminder of the past remaining to him, a gift from the aliens who had ultimately been his salvation from death on K7-49.

Mercenaries and pirates. They had been the sort that Shephard had fallen in with after surviving on his own in the weeks following the destruction of Alpha Company. The Kig-Yar had seen a use for the tenacious human they had discovered in the ruins of K7-49, and he for them. His third “family” had been composed of a crew of the birdlike creatures, and both he and the Kig-Yar had had to strive to break down the many barriers that existed between them. With him at their side, the crew had made a killing off of piracy against Covenant ships, and in turn they had helped him hunt down the Sangheli commander leading the forces who had slaughtered Alpha Company. It had been with their gifted weapon that Shephard had fought and killed that particular demon.

But even that had not been enough. The crew had been ambushed and butchered by even more Covenant troops, and Shephard had barely escaped in his own ship, making a blind Slipspace jump into the void of space. Then, devoid of any further hope or drive, he had sealed himself in a cryo-chamber and given himself up to fate.

But that hadn’t been the end.

His uniform donned, albeit in a egregiously sloppy manner, Shephard ran a hand through his untidy black hair. Looking at him, one would have failed to guess that he was the last “original” SPARTAN-III: he was young, barely into his twenties, and his skinny arms frame bore a touch of scrawniness that would not have been looked for in a genetically enhanced super-soldier. But, despite what his appearance might suggest, he was one. Not only that, he was a sergeant in one of the most lethal military units in the history of mankind, and he had work to do.

It was his responsibility to ensure that the troops under his command were spared the fate of Alpha Company. It was his duty to help ensure that no one ever had to undergo the pain he had been forced to endure. These tasks could not be taken lightly for any reason.

Slipping a belt around his waist, Shephard retrieved a holstered M6 pistol from the bunk and clipped it on. He never went anywhere without some form of protection.

Opening the door to his room, he blinked at the sudden brightness of the hallway beyond it. Then, his vision restored, he strode out and headed for the training facilities.

There was work to be done.

12
Novus laid there in the grass, looking up into the night sky. The rest of his sub-pack were either sleeping or guarding the small village, which they were assigned to. A waste of a perfectly good group of covert soldiers, Novus thought, but he had his orders. He laid on this hill often, sometimes thinking about what his life could have been like if he'd done it differently. However his military career was far more successful than any civilian occupation would have been. Novus gazed endlessly at the stars. He liked to link them up, even if the patterns were not official constellations. He made random images, some funny, some just plain weird. And sometimes he'd see an object that would bring back a memory.

A lot had happened in the past seven years and he was a different person now because of it. He remembered his first battle at the Human world of Kanna, then only a few weeks later, the battle at Vespera. His first two glimpses of real war. Real pain. And real death. How he survived he did not know but he was most definitely grateful for the brothers that had saved him on numerous occasions. Brothers that were not here today. He often wondered whether they were now in the stars, looking down and saving him just the same as they once were. However he repressed any religious nonsense out of his mind. He had to keep a rational clear head in life. That was the only way he had moved on from all the losses.

Many of his brothers had fallen but new alliances were formed. At the rank of Stalker Ultra, he commanded his own group of, what he considered, the best stealth Jiralhanae in the local Remnant military. He was completely satisfied with his previous placement, on this planet, but just not here in this insignificant village. Maybe the fact that it bordered a main road, leading into one of the most important cities on the planet, had something to do with his sub-pack's allocation. However he would still rather be guarding something of prestigious importance to the Remnants. Not a random village.

Despite this he carried on looking at the stars. He looked very closely. There were not any shapes or linking patterns this time, nor where there any visual signs of anything peculiar. He just felt a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. The kind of feeling he got when a battle was about to start, when he loses a brother, when he saw the truth behind Operation: JUGGERNAUT or when he was close to death all those many unforgettable times. It made him shiver and cringe thinking about those things. However they had made him into the soldier he was today. Battle after battle, loss after loss, change after change.

He didn't know why. Or how. Or when. He just felt like something was going to change again soon.

Very soon indeed...