User:Spartan-091/Halo: Soldier's Song

0100 HOURS, OCTOBER 1, 2552(MILITARY CALENDAR)/ UNSC BATTLESHIP MYRMIDON, ON BATTLE-DUTY IN THE OMICRON POLARIS SYSTEM

Space. The velvety-black expanse studded with millions of diamond-like stars dominated the UNSC Myrmidon’s primary bridge viewport, interrupted by the verdant planet below. Maybe, at a different place in time, the deep void might have been appreciated for its shrouded and silent beauty, but now, as the Myrmidon accelerated to flank speed, it was ignored. “Archer missile pods A1 through D2 armed, Captain.” “Good. Status on the MAC guns?” “Eighty-two percent charged, Captain.” “Inform me when charging is complete, Juliet.” “Yes ma’am,” the AI’s holographic image assented, then blurred into nothingness. Commander Sylvie Grey sank back into her command chair, trying to relax her tensed nerves. She tucked an unruly lock of her bobbed ebony hair behind her right ear and swallowed. This was her first action as captain of the Myrmidon, a Leonidas-class heavy battleship and one of the most fearsome ships in the United Nations Space Command Navy. It bristled with weapons¾ four Heavy Magnetic Accelerator Cannons, fifty-two Archer missile pods, five Shiva nuclear warheads, and countless point-defense turrets¾ and was covered with two-meters of A-grade titanium battleplate throughout its half-kilometer length. “Charging is complete, ma’am,” Military Artificial Intelligence 8011 spoke up, her figure reappearing on the hologram-projection pedestal. The AI had chosen the form of a blue-skinned woman as her avatar, and coding streamed along her hair and body. Sylvie had heard that each AI picked its own “look,” and had to admit that she enjoyed having Juliet’s feminine presence around. “Ensign Morales, what is our ETA to target?” “Thirty seconds, ma’am.” “Good. Juliet, give me a firing solution to the nearest Covenant ship. Time it so that when their shields drop, our Archers will hit.” “Right away, ma’am.” As the battle presented itself to the view of the bridge crew, Sylvie could not help but stare. Streamlined Covenant attack cruisers glimmered in the warm light of the system’s primary, their lateral plasma lines pulsing with stored power straining to be released. Facing these alien aggressors was a small handful of UNSC ships, diminutive compared to the atmosphere of the planet below, their edges smeared into the pale azure. Then, at some unheard signal, two Covenant attack frigates dove toward the blocky ships of the human battle group, spewing purple-white streams of superheated plasma as they disgorged swarms of their single-ships. Fiery explosions blossomed in the UNSC ranks as the plasma torpedoes connected with their targets. Liquid battleplate melted off into glowing orbs, atmosphere vented in hellish plumes, and the lives of hundreds of men and women were snuffed out as the fleet was decimated. And then it was the Myrmidon’s turn. “Ma’am, clear to fire MAC guns!” Ensign Morales shouted. “Fire!” Sylvie ordered, her outstretched hand shaking with anger. The bridge light darkened and the deck rocked. Four silver streaks violently collided with a Covenant carrier. Shields flickered and died away, and the speeding projectiles broke the hapless craft in two, punching into an adjacent warship as their velocity slowed. “Launch Archer Missile Pods A1 through D2!” Vapor trails sped toward the truncated carrier, detonating with impressive force. A silent shockwave ripped the ship apart further, and shards of its hull spattered off of its escorts’ shields. “Lieutenant Keane, go evasive; Morales rearm the MACs,” Sylvie snapped, “Juliet, another fire solution for the largest remaining ship.” Meanwhile, the enduring ships of the Omicron Polaris Battlegroup opened up on the reeling Covenant. Three MAC rounds blew through the silvery shell of one of the attacking frigates, which plowed into its companion and shattered into pieces. The surviving frigate, even though its hull was dented and scarred, managed to destroy two of the seven remaining human warships before it, too, was obliterated. More than half of their attack fleet gone, the alien armada began to retreat, damaging UNSC ships as they fell back. “Status?” Sylvie enquired, feeling the Myrmidon shake with each enemy hit. “Port-side armor is at 20% integrity and failing, ma’am,” Ensign Zane reported from Damage Control, wiping a trace of sweat from her dark almond eyes. “Seal all bulkheads and order the Marines to the lifeboats, just in case,” the Commander said. “Aye, ma’am.” “Morales, arm a Shiva.” “Ma’am?” The young man’s handsome Hispanic features twisted in a look of disbelief. “You heard me, Ensign,” Sylvie stated firmly. “Yes, ma’am,” Morales replied, “MAC guns and Archers D2 through G1 ready to fire, ma’am.” “I’ve computed the requested firing solutions,” Juliet piped up. Sylvie nodded. “Good. Lieutenant Keane, pull us about.” “Coming about,” the woman responded, nonplussed. “Juliet, fire.” Four argent trails flew towards an attack cruiser, impacting upon the shields sheathing the craft. The energy field disappeared in a blue-white flash as the MACs bounced away, and Archer missiles pockmarked the pearlescent plating. “Status on the Shiva?” “Armed and ready, ma’am.” “Juliet, give us a trajectory that will hit the center of those ships,” said Sylvie, indicating the three battered Covenant frigates that had survived the Myrmidon’s onslaught. “Calculating,” the AI spoke emotionlessly, “There you are, Commander.” “Ensign Morales, launch Shiva,” Commander Grey said tautly. “Launched and on course, ma’am.” Seconds later, a bright white light burst through the bridge’s reinforced viewplates, and Sylvie shielded her eyes. When it faded, the frigates were gone. “Targets vaporized,” Juliet reported happily. The Myrmidon bucked, and Ensign Zane looked up, panicky. “Hull breach!” “MAC capacitors damaged on top-aft gun,” Morales yelled. Another tremor. “Engines offline!” Lieutenant Keane fell into her chair, perspiration dripping from her blonde hair. “Weapons, fire all we’ve got at that cruiser,” ordered Sylvie, anxiety hardening her voice. Ensign Morales furiously entered the correct commands, and the remaining MACs threw their shells towards the target. They connected, first denting, then plowing through the cruiser’s nose plating, crushing the entire bow into itself. The cruiser heeled to the right, its maneuvering systems ruined, and began the slow plunge into the planet’s atmosphere. But not before it released two more plasma torpedoes. The burning streamers homed in to the Myrmidon, boiling away the two-meter thick battleplate that encased the ship and sizzling through the lower decks. “Damage critical!” Zane shrieked. “All hands abandon ship,” Commander Grey barked over the SHIPCOM, “Repeat, all hands abandon ship!” The bridge crew ran for the nearest lifepods as red emergency lights strobed throughout the ship. As she turned to leave, Sylvie saw the strange green-blue auroras that told of Slipspace exits, saw the main Covenant fleet emerging into real space. And, watching the fresh reinforcements wipe out the remnants of the UNSC Omicron Polaris Battlegroup, she vowed that she would protect her crew from a similar fate, promised that she would protect the innocents on Manheim, the planet below. She yanked a chip from the command console, slipped it into her pocket, and made for the closest escape pod.

0143 HOURS, OCTOBER 1, 2552(MILITARY CALENDAR)/ UNSC BATTLESHIP MYRMIDON, HUMAN ENTRY VEHICLE LAUNCH BAY

Private First Class Miles Jaeger made one last hurried check over his drop gear, then quickly slipped his helmet over his head, booting up the heads-up display and other built-in electronics as he did so. As a member of the elite 101st Orbital Drop Shock Trooper Division, you were entitled to a lot of