|
This fanfiction article, Halo: Arizona Backroads, was written by Distant Tide. Please do not edit this fiction without the writer's permission. |
|
A wet-behind-the-ears Spartan team's first visit to Earth involves a road trip into the Arizona backcountry to meet a UNSC Army unit in the middle of nowhere. | 
|
Dramatis Personae[]
Arizona Backroads[]
- "Welcome to Earth, and welcome to the Internal Investigations Unit 419. We like to call ourselves The Exterminators."
- ― Staff Sergeant Michael Silverthorne to Team Boson, 2557.
Chapter One: Field Trip[]
|
The dusty gravel road crunched under the tires of the HuCiv HC1500 Supreme as it rolled through the American Midwest. A passenger cabin was mounted in the back, capable of holding as many as fourteen passengers. Today it only hosted seven.
On one side of the cabin interior sat a Sergeant Silverthorne, Major Kyser Duceppe, and Zachariah-D111. On the other side, Daniele-D003, Roxanne-D107, Andra-D054, and Merlin-D032. It was quiet in the back of the vehicle, consistent for the last two hours of a three-hour journey through the rural countryside.
Merlin peered through the tinted one-way window adjacent from his seat, taking in the passing waves of yellowed prairie grass that extended toward the distant horizon. He wondered how the grass survived in this climate as he leaned his head against the window behind him, feeling the cool surface tickle his neck.
Winter on Earth, at least in this area, was mild but significantly colder than what Merlin was used to. However, his previous point of reference was borderline-tropical, so it was a poor comparison.
He examined the gray overcast sky and wondered where the Sun was. Arizona was supposed to be a sunny, desert province in North America, and yet, the cloud bank refused to part. The local star was obscured, barely a dull-yellow circle behind the stubborn haze.
The wind danced across the plains outside, occasionally pounding the side of the HC1500 with a jostling whoosh. Another one arrived this time several magnitudes greater than previous, aggressively throwing the cabin back and forth. Merlin's head bounced off the glass and back softly, but his sore stomach had other ideas.
A thought slipped to the front of his mind; it imagined a strong gust of air slam against the cargo truck, tipping it one way and then the other. The truck rolled, spun out, and landed in a grassy ditch. Everyone climbed out, maybe a little hurt, but they were stranded – in the cold. His stomach lurched at the daydream causing him to wince uncomfortably.
One thing led to another. A closely-wrapped arm around Merlin's waist slipped a little. In response, his back flared up, causing him to squirm and curve his spine to release the tension. The arm relinquished quickly, recognizing someone in pain. Merlin blinked in rapid succession, a reaction to the imaginary needles jabbing him in places underneath his abdominal cast.
"Sorry," Andra whisper-hissed in alarm next to Merlin. Her arms rose in a gesture of surrender. After the boy failed to respond to her apology, she moved her arms just above his shoulders, preparing to provide renewed support. Zachariah glanced up at his teammates from his personal distraction before glancing back down without a word.
"It-it's fine…"
Merlin eased back into his chair once the pain subsided, cautiously shifting his spine until he was comfortable again. Andra, after a couple more seconds of silence, stopped eyeing him in alarm, and gingerly wrapped her arm around his shoulders. Even after she hurt him, she still kept close.
She squeezed her hand around Merlin's left shoulder and planted it there, unwavering. A glance in her direction only revealed a distant look in her eyes, tiredly directed toward the fields outside.
He glanced between the window and her, looking for the unseen thing she was focused on. Afraid to break the silent spell hanging over the passenger cabin, Merlin said nothing, and Andra did the same. Her shoulders eventually slackened, and she leaned her head full of brown hair against his shoulder, returning to a state of relaxed contentment.
An adventurous strand of her hair danced toward the boy's cheek which he kindly responded to with a short puff of air, chasing it away. Merlin considered whether to lay his own head against Andra's but decided against it after a second of contemplation.
He laid his skull against the glass instead, welcoming the familiar chill that mingled with his short black hair. His eyes darted back to the pressure of Andra's head against his shoulder and considered the recent development of the gesture.
The Spartan girl had always been close with him, ever since their first tumble together in the mud on Argus V. They were best friends, a bond that went beyond the fire-tested resilience of their Spartan team's family unit. And yet, since the day Joshua-G024 got carried away in training and broke Merlin's right arm and three ribs, she grew very touchy – almost like she was afraid she was going to lose him.
He liked the feeling, the constant reminder that the one he trusted most was nearby. However, the recent development was still unexpected. Back in training, this kind of behavior had been discouraged exhaustively – drilled into the Spartans' heads regarding the kinds of comradery that promoted strong unit cohesion. And now, Andra was blatantly ignoring it, in front of a superior officer even.
Merlin turned to the officer in question, Major Duceppe. The man was lost with a content smile on his face as he worked his way through what appeared to be the second half of a decently-sized hardcover novel. It was a worn blue cover as if it had been read more than once. The book's title, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, glinted of gold-lettering in the natural light around them.
Well, maybe that explained why he wasn't saying anything.
The Spartan looked over the vehicle interior, assessing every detail for something of interest but intentionally avoiding the windows and the passing plains beyond. His stomach already sent a clear message, he would not look outside again until the truck reached its destination.
A glance at the unfamiliar individual at the front end of the cabin, Sergeant Silverthorne, featured a man dressed in a full kit of the UNSC Army's standard battle-dress uniform with URNA Desert-type camouflage. A plain service cap covered his pale-bald head. A BR55 Service Rifle was nestled between his boots and thighs. He seemed like a dutiful, experienced man, typing away at a military-grade laptop.
Merlin's eyes dragged away from the rather uninteresting Army man, they instead settled on the heavily-armored duo: Roxanne and Daniele. Twice their usual bulk out of armor, the SPI-clad Spartans were indistinguishable from one another with exception to behavior. Their fishbowl MIRAGE-class helmets obscured all facial details but their friend's watchful eyes picked up on who was who.
Roxanne was the sprawled-out girl half on her seat and half in the passenger cabin's open aisle. Her head was resting on Daniele's armored thigh. Daniele and his helmet were glaring down at a grasped computer tablet in a manner that Merlin vaguely understood to be concentration. Evidently, it was a game given the small Spartan running around shooting aliens on screen.
And then there was Zachariah sitting right in front of Merlin. The tinkering boy was reaching in and out of a small tool pouch at his feet and flipping through a paper manual regarding the M6I automatic magnum in his lap. A disassembled MA5D assault rifle and M7 submachine gun rested neatly on the seat next to him.
Of five SPARTAN-IIIs present on this road trip, only two were dressed in armor. As Merlin understood it, the get-up was a kind of gesture to the combat unit they were meeting.
Many things about this trip were unusual, or at least did not add up to Merlin's rationality.
This was his team's first time on Earth but they didn't get time to offload their few belongings and Spartan armor from the UNSC Infinity. Apparently, that was to be handled by someone else. Instead of putting the Spartans on a Pelican flight directly to their destination, they were ordered onto a nondescript cargo truck and told to dress as civilians.
Only two Spartans were asked to wear armor, and not even of the MJOLNIR variety. Instead, Daniele and Roxanne volunteered to wear the less-protective Semi-Powered Infiltration armor, favored by SPARTAN-III suicide troops in the Covenant War. With his own broken arm and ribs, Merlin was unable to put on any armor for the time being. Along with Andra and Zachariah, they attempted their best to appear civilian with the limited options available in the UNSC Infinity's shipboard exchange.
It was all so strange, coming from the harsh training of Argus V, the aggressive tutelage of Amy-G094 and Joshua-G024, and now, here, where regulations and practicality were being thrown aside at a world-shattering pace.
He asked Duceppe about the odd mission orders but the man's only response was "relax."
Merlin wasn't quite satisfied with the vague answer but the Major was his direct superior. He did as he was told.
Time continued to pass and the rumbling in the less-than-paved road continued unobstructed. Merlin's lack of concentration on anything meaningful left him focusing on the individual vibrations passing through the glass behind his head. His eyelids drooped, and eventually, they closed entirely into darkness.
He awoke to someone tapping his knee.
"Yo, Merl. Doll. We're here."
Merlin cracked an eye open to the sight of Zachariah leaning towards him on bent knees. He felt soft hair pressed under his cheek that smelled of salt and flour, the scent of military-issue shampoo.
"Zach. Would you stop calling me that?" Andra's voice growled from a place between Merlin's shoulder and head.
"Nah," Zachariah responded, standing up. He picked up the MA5D from the seat next to him and threw it to someone out of view, outside the truck.
"Thanks," Daniele called to Zach.
They were stopped. Merlin's eyes opened fully and his head lifted off the top of Andra's. A glance at the passenger cabin told him that everyone was beginning to exit the vehicle. Daniele, Roxanne, and Sergeant Silverthorne were already out the door. Major Duceppe eyed Merlin and Andra from his seat with a wordless half-smirk.
"Alright, that's everyone then. Out we go." The Major announced, gesturing them out the back with an open hand.
Merlin stood slowly, careful not to twist his slung right arm too quickly or to not overuse his abdomen. Andra was careful behind him, always a hand's distance away. He winced at the effort but pushed past the minor pain, mostly unbothered. This was nothing compared to that metal knee Joshua had shoved in his side, the catalyst for the injuries. That trainer was a menace, having little restraint or respect for his junior Spartan. Merlin didn't understand why, however, he accepted it. This wasn't his first training injury or his first one motivated by personal reasons. Taking pain was part of the Spartan experience, he would recover.
The three Spartans still in the compartment filed out quickly: Zachariah in front, Merlin next, Andra behind him. Duceppe took up the rear. Upon exiting the HC1500 Supreme, the Spartans were welcomed to a sight unlike anything witnessed by them before.
Infantry fighting vehicles lined up next to one another over trampled grass. Tanks were pointed toward a giant hole, a crater in the earth. Quick-assembly and prefabricated structures were strewn about doubling for cover and concealment and for meeting the amenity needs of military forces. Military vehicles and personnel were everywhere. Men and women in uniforms similar to Sergeant Silverthorne passed in and out of buildings and between vehicles and tents. Above them, guard towers, floodlights, and flagpoles stood tall.
The phrase 'tent city' was an apt description of the combat staging area. Sergeant Silverthorne stood off to the side with Roxanne and Daniele, each lightly armed with weaponry, courtesy of Zachariah. The Sergeant gestured for the Spartans and Duceppe to follow him, leading the group deeper into the encampment.
It was clear that the soldiers did not see children here often. Darting eyes from UNSC personnel did not latch on to Roxanne or Daniele, instead, they locked onto Merlin, Andra, and Zachariah. Even in civilian clothes, toughened bodies, and unnatural heights, they still did not appear as adults. The soldiers could tell, there was something unusual about the strangers walking among them.
No one spoke to them, no one shouted out an objection to children being in the staging area. Merlin still felt it though, the confusion and paranoia. Without his armor, Merlin felt naked in front of all these judging eyes. Andra fell into step with him, snaking an arm lightly around his waist.
Major Duceppe stepped in line next to Andra and looked as if he was going to say something, however, the challenging gleam in her eyes made him swallow his words. The Army officer walked past Andra and fell into step with Silverthorne instead, leaving his two subordinates to walk together in silence.
"Hey, Merlin! Look over there." Zachariah called out, pointing toward a purple mountain range in the distance.
"What is that?"
"You don't recognize the shape? That's a Covenant cruiser!"
Merlin's eyes widened, locking onto the object of interest due north of their position. Upon closer inspection – the rounded, bulbous hull, the metallic glint, and the dirt lining its sides – clearly the edge of a crater. It was definitely a Covenant warship, a crashed one.
"That's the Wonderous Resolve. It was part of the Covenant's invasion fleet when they hit Earth in late 2552," Sergeant Silverthorne hollered, speaking to the Spartans for the first time. "We hit it with a number of nuclear missiles before it came down over there. There are another fifteen or so sites like it dotting this basin."
"Is it still radioactive?" Roxanne asked from right behind Silverthorne.
"Fatally. We deployed radiation scrubbers as early as December 2552. Nanomachines, you get the idea. However, we also programmed the scrubbers to maintain and increase the radioactivity presence on all known Covenant wreckages in the area in case the 'locals' attempt to salvage them for one reason or another."
"Locals?" Merlin called up to the front of the group, directing his question to Silverthorne.
"It's best we show you, the fireworks are going to begin soon."
The assembled group of Spartans and Army personnel arrived at a large metal box with several doors embedded in each side. Knocking on the nearest door, it took a few moments for a response but a dark-skinned Army Sergeant First Class eventually peered out and looked the Spartans over. The name "Howard" was velcroed to his collar under his rank insignia.
"These are the Spartans they sent us? Aren't they kind of young?"
"They're Spartans. This is Major Kyser Duceppe, he's an Army liaison with the Office of Naval Intelligence and formerly with the Ohio National Guard. This is his unit, Spartan Team Boson."
"Sir. Spartans." The noncommissioned officer saluted the Major and greeted his subordinates.
The Spartans said nothing to the upper-level enlisted-man but Merlin nodded to him out of respect. The Sergeant First Class smiled awkwardly at the injured Spartan before turning back to Silverthorne.
"Take them to the observation point. The Air Force boys tell me their fast-movers are two minutes from Point Striker-Charlie. Bombs will fly fifteen seconds after that."
"Roger that. I'll take them now then Sergeant."
"Dismissed."
Silverthorne turned from the combat information center and proceeded to take his group back in the direction of their cargo truck. The Sergeant First Class closed the CIC door behind him.
A feminine-sounding radio announcement pierced the air, "Attention, all combat personnel, please report to your action stations. Operation begins in two minutes, secure all doors, and prepare close-in weapon systems. Keep vigilant and barrels hot."
Silverthorne quickened his pace, guiding the Spartans and Duceppe to a canopied pavilion at the back end of the staging area. From here, Merlin noted its distinguishably higher elevation than the rest of the camp, he could see just above the vehicles and buildings and the crater beyond them with the entire military installation gravitating toward it. "Inside. Everyone. Now."
"What's this operation?" Zachariah asked, looking between the group's two adults.
"Operation: YOSEMITE. You're about to see for yourself." Silverthorne cryptically explained.
Merlin noted that the pavilion was lined on one wall by several screens, the other side by a few benches, plastic chairs, and a few tables. He grasped Andra's arm and gently pulled it away from his body. With her eyes on him, he shuffled over to one of the benches and took a seat on it, facing the large monitor. She quickly followed, taking a seat next to him.
A countdown appeared on screen as it flickered to the perspective of an aircraft's external flight camera. While there was no audio, the footage of familiar plains and a long country road quickly informed Merlin what he was looking at.
The other room attendants quickly found their own seats and silence reigned. Listening closely, Merlin could hear the low drone of an approaching aircraft.
"B-65 Shortswords," Silverstone commented.
The droning noise multiplied and came closer and closer and then completely passed overheard. The noise peaked and then began to recede. That was when the explosions began.
The video feed showed bombs descend from cargo bays, one at a time, in rapid succession.
Merlin felt the rumbling in the ground. One after another after another. Boom. Boom. Boom.
Looking outside the pavilion, Merlin saw dozens of small cylinders descend from the black wedges speeding quickly away from the bombing area.
The concussion from the bombs rushed across the plains, flattening prairie grass and slamming dust along the wake of shockwaves.
The bombing carried on for a good two or three minutes before ceasing with a final crackle of rolling thunder. The bombers ascended back into the clouds, disappearing into the overcast sky. When the dust settled, Merlin's breath hitched at the sight of the field.
Caved-in holes dotted the landscape, subterranean cavities beneath the Earth. Something scuttled about in there, in the absolute dark. And then, they rose.
Thousands upon thousands of creatures sped up into the afternoon air seeking the menace that trashed their home and interrupted their slumber. They were dark in color, but as they zoomed up and out in intelligent patterns, metallic glints of blue, green, red, and yellow adjourned the creatures' forms.
"Yanme'e. Buggers." Andra muttered next to Merlin, recognizing the alien insectoid species racing out of the holes in the ground and the crater that served as their primary doorway.
Air warning sirens echoed across the plains, erupting from the UNSC Army staging area. Attracted to the noise, the Buggers turned to race at the encampment and the pavilion as well.
"Uh, should we move to a more secure...?" Roxanne asked, her helmet tilted to look at Silverthorne and Duceppe who seemed too relaxed for their own good.
"No. Take a seat, this is the best part," Silverthorne replied.
The sirens wailed on but an even louder sound drowned them out, the noise of pure terror filling the air.
Lances of gunfire erupted from anti-aircraft weaponry across the camp. Nearly one hundred rounds per second, the Gatling-style M71 Scythe anti-aircraft guns shredded the flocks of insect aliens, bullets, and molten lead splashing them from the sky by the hundreds.
The smashed carcasses fell back to the Earth as black snow. The guns didn't stop and the bugs didn't stop either, becoming long distorted columns being cut down by laser-like streams of gunfire. Merlin could only gap at the display.
"Fuck yeah!" Zachariah shouted from off to the side.
"This is how Earth handles aliens," Silverthorne commentated over the gunfire, "if we can't evict them from the planet peacefully or integrate them within UEG standards, we put them down. This is the fifth Yanme'e hive we've encountered since 2553."
"Impressive," Daniele commented.
"If you're all wondering why you're here, your unit is joining our own. Duceppe wanted to give you a front-row seat of what we specialize in. Consider this a field trip, enjoy yourselves. If anyone wants a drink, there's a fridge in the back with sodas." Silverthorne explained, pointing to the mini-kitchen at the back of the pavilion.
"I wanted to ease you guys into the job before we got you settled in New Phoenix," Duceppe added. "Even if the Covenant War is over, there's still much to do."
"Is it really this easy?" Roxanne asked, pointing to the display of military superiority.
"Oh heck no. This is the easy part, you guys won't have to participate this time around but after we burn the squatters from their caves, we got to go in and make sure they and the Queen are dead. We asked that two of you at least wear SPI in case we needed Spartans on hand but generally, we haven't needed them for the last five years so we should be fine," Silverthorne explained. "Welcome to Earth, and welcome to the Internal Investigations Unit 419. We like to call ourselves The Exterminators."
Chapter Two: The Burn Pit[]
|
Buried under the dismembered corpses of Yanme'e drones, the once open field of golden prairie grass disappeared beneath thousands of bodies, maybe tens of thousands. Their glittery-colorful shells, dulled from fragmentation and the caking of their own white-green blood, left a thick and milky mix that smelled of eggnog and rotting fruit.
With his helmet secured in the crook of his left armpit, Daniele twitched his nose, struggling to maintain his Spartan-trained discipline and not squeeze it in disgust. His eyes brimmed with small tears as he blinked to dry them out.
He didn't want to be here honestly, standing mere steps away from an alien mass grave. It was one thing to watch as they got cut to pieces from afar, but the proximity had sucked away all his excitement.
"Petty Officers, go ahead and put your helmets on." Major Duceppe called from a few steps away, his hand clamped over his nose and mouth as he assessed the same mess as his subordinates.
Daniele glanced at the older man, dressed in his UNSC Army fatigues with his aging light-brown hair. The Major's usually soft expression was now turbulent like a storm cloud as his narrowed green eyes scanned from his five Spartan subordinates to the extent of death arranged before him.
"But Andra, Merlin, and Zach don't have anything," Roxanne commented from Daniele's right, voicing their shared epiphany regarding the other three members of Team Boson standing behind Duceppe. The two boys and girl shuffled their feet, clearly anxious to get away from the dead Yanme'e. Without their armor and in their civilian get-ups, they looked out of place, like helpless children.
Duceppe glanced at his other three subordinates before turning back to face the two Spartans dressed properly for the occasion at hand: Roxanne and Daniele in their variants of Semi-Powered Armor with guns and gear strapped onto their armored forms. The dichotomy between Duceppe's subordinates was clear.
"I'll be taking them back in a few seconds, I just wanted to give them an up-close encounter before you two go into the beast's belly."
Right, Daniele insisted on this – he chose to be here, among the dead bugs. Roxanne had chosen the same. She obliged the Major's order and slipped her fishbowl-looking MIRAGE helmet over her head, her pixy-golden locks disappearing beneath the golden dome.
Daniele did the same and gasped in relief at the familiar but appreciated sensation of recycled, clean air flowing through his nostrils.
"Better?" Duceppe mumbled at the two armored youngsters agitatedly. He was leaning onto one hip directed towards base camp. Maybe he wanted to leave too.
Daniele's helmet dipped in the Major's direction followed by a speechless thumbs up. Turning to look at Roxanne, Daniele caught her doing the same before her arm slackened to her side.
"Alright, you three, we're going back up the hill. Andra and Zach, we'll go visit the armory and get you two some light-kit in case something unexpected comes up. Merlin, we'll get you something small, you get to play today's VIP."
The Major motioned for the unarmed trio of Spartans to follow him. Daniele and Roxanne silently watched them go, amusement and bewilderment dancing among an incomprehensible mix of emotions in their minds.
Merlin called after the Army officer while trying to keep up, "What you mean is I'm dead weight, right?"
"Not at all, just keep up," was Duceppe's final statement before the group walked out of earshot.
Roxanne glanced at Daniele, "Merlin's self-esteem needs work. Lieutenant Gamma-Twenty-Four was too hard on his back on the Infinity."
"He's still dealing with the broken bones and the rehab. He'll get over it soon enough, he's been through worse."
"I guess, but that behavior predates the Lieutenant too." Roxanne wistfully added, turning away from the retreating forms of their teammates to better assess the giant hole and many smaller holes at the center of the mass pile up in front of her.
"We'll be there when he needs us…" Daniele said but the words trailed off as the conversation slipped from his attention.
The two Spartans waited there, watching quietly as studious UNSC Army personnel, particularly from the United Republic's Arizona National Guard, dug shallow trenches and holes. Even with the assistance of excavation drones, the work looked backbreaking and arduous.
Daniele took special note of their MA5 service rifles. Clutched closely to their bodies, even amongst only dead bodies, the soldiers were cautious – they had reason to expect something worse to come. A new voice spoke up, interrupting the male Spartan's thoughts, "They're digging burn pits – it's much easier to incinerate Buggers in mass rather than packing them into trucks and hauling them back to a base for proper disposal and incineration. It also means a lot less paperwork."
Daniele turned to see Sergeant Silverthorne in a sealant suit marching over to the duo leisurely, Yanme'e carcasses crunching underneath his boots.
"Should we assist them?" Roxanne asked, her hidden eyes fixated on the soldiers shoveling away at the dry and unforgiving Earth. This part of Arizona was covered in an endless grassland, but the soil was gravely and shallow. A Spartan was probably better suited to this task than a regular infantryman.
"This is what they're paid to do, and they've done it before. Some of them love it, to be honest, getting to watch a bunch of aliens burn for their crimes against Humanity. This is just part of that ritual."
"And what about us then?" Daniele asked, rephrasing Roxanne's question.
"You're going to enter the Hellmouth, just waiting for everyone else to assemble now."
The two Spartans nodded at the Sergeant's assessment and guided their eyes to the rapidly assembling clump of troops to their left. Among their ranks were regular infantry in sealant suits and gas masks, semi-mechanized behemoths with large container drums on their backs, and military-types dressed in charcoal-styled combat gear.
The Office of Naval Intelligence, UNSC Army and Marines, and the United Republic's Department of Homeland Security all gathered in the same place. This was the Internal Investigations Unit 419. It seemed the Unified Earth Government considered the former Covenant forces left on Earth a serious security matter.
Ahead of the loose formation, a female Army officer coordinated the final operation procedures in a hoarse voice that could challenge Daniele's past drill instructors. Terms mentioned in her address were unfamiliar to the Spartan, however, this was his first time listening in on Operation: YOSEMITE's details.
"Move out," the female officer announced finally and stepped off a fuel drum she used as a platform. "Survey robot first, then pyros once we're certain we got most of them."
"What's happening now?" Roxanne asked, seeking the Sergeant's play-by-play.
"That's the Ikari Element. They're the direct-action unit, usually for entering a hive. First, they deploy a few surveillance drones to make sure we killed most of the Buggers. Then we send in Hellbringer units to cook what's left of the young and the eggs. Usually, we get the Yanme'e Queen in the machine gun phase, but we still need to guarantee we aren't walking into a trap."
"Ikari?" Daniele asked out of curiosity.
Silverthorne nodded in confirmation. "Spartan, Ikari Hibiki, from the IV-Program. We name operational detachments after our fallen. His unit was killed during the 2554 Philadelphia attack. They got crushed by a skyscraper after the frigate Sogdia was hijacked and the rebels used it to destroy downtown."
Daniele's thoughts froze at that moment, recognizing it as the infamous Bombing of Philadelphia. His mind returned to his training days and the dissection of that atrocity. The training staff of SPARTAN-III Delta Company put emphasis on the event for weeks, embedding a passionate hatred for the attack's mastermind, Simon-G294, into the recruits' heads.
It seemed that soreness for the so-called 'worst graduate of SPARTAN-III Gamma Company' was a shared trait for those among Unit 419. In that case, Daniele and his friends had common ground with this larger military family.
"You okay there Spartan?"
Daniele slipped back into reality and nodded at the Sergeant's question, "Yeah, just remembering something."
Silverthorne hummed at the vague response, choosing to not inquire further.
"When do we go inside exactly?" Roxanne asked, breaking her own quiet. Daniele eyed her curiously, noting her irregularities for someone considered the official mouthpiece for their team.
"Just waiting for a signal…" The Army sergeant cryptically stated through his rebreather.
At the point when fires flared from the burn pits, insectoid carcasses burned, and plumes of smoke rose into the overcast sky, the expected signal still did not arrive. Silverthorne, Roxanne, and Daniele had long since overcome their initial fascination in seeing the massive, beaten corpse of a Yanme'e Queen exhumed from beneath its many dead children.
The creature was humongous – easily thirty times the length of a standard Yanme'e drone or the scale of a school bus. Ashen, busted, but clearly alien. The body had wings intended for a gravity significantly greater than Earth's. Thicker and as resilient as plate armor, an armored exoskeleton wrapped around the upper body with exception to a whale-sized egg-producing sac that upon cutting exuded an indescribable scent a hundred times stronger than the caking Bugger blood.
And yet, the two Spartans and the Army sergeant looked on as if observing and discussing the weather.
"Yeah, that one is pretty large, but we've downed bigger ones," Silverthorne explained, crossing his arms in boredom.
"Why are there so many Buggers living on Earth after the Covenant War?" Roxanne asked even as her helmet focused more on the Marine Corps Hellbringers repelling into perpetual darkness.
"Is this your first visit to Earth?" Silverthorne asked in response, staring into the child-soldiers' golden visors.
"Yes, but this is Daniele's second. He stayed in a San Diego orphanage for a bit during the War?" Roxanne responded, glancing at Daniele for confirmation.
He hummed to her an affirmative but added nothing else to the discussion. The male Spartan kept his eyes forward, finding a mild interest in watching Army National Guard troops use scavenged Covenant energy blades to dislodge the dead Queen's exoskeleton – apparently using saws and blowtorches would take hours.
Silverstone's head tilted skyward as he considered the question and how to answer it. His eyes were obscured by the weak sunlight overhead and his visor angle.
"Well, it's not very well documented but we encountered many leftovers from the Covenant invasion force since the 2553 ceasefire with the Sangheili. Many of the forces loyal to the Covenant retreated to remote strongholds or went into hiding, especially after we knocked out their starships and left them stranded here."
The Army Sergeant paused a moment to suck water through a straw from his backpacked hydro-bladder, then continued after an extolled breath.
"We spent the first three years hunting every Brute we could find, either killing or capturing them. That's what the IIU did in the early days. Then we turned to other species, but they've been a totally different challenge. Brutes don't typically surrender to UNSC forces, only the smart ones do. But the other aliens have their own logic, their own cultures, and rationales. Negotiating or just trying to understand them requires a completely different mindset."
"Buggers are actually one of the smaller occurrences on Earth, the number of colonies that have ever existed here is below a hundred. Max. The Covenant used them largely as shipboard technicians, but they've also served on the frontlines. But they must report a central authority like Earth insect species reporting to a queen mother. Because of the limited number of egg-laying Yanme'e females involved in the invasion force, you can understand there is a finite number of them living here."
"However, we've been slow to identify and deal with them. Each colony has a unique response to humans, and we deal with them accordingly, we've even helped relocate a couple of them off-world, peacefully. But most of the time, like this one, we've been forced to eradicate them. Their attraction and ability to sniff out subterranean Forerunner relics are also sort of useful, so, the UEG has de-prioritized their elimination to a case-by-case scenario."
"Keeping aliens around is a good thing?" Daniele asked, trying to wrap his head around the idea.
"It's a bit complicated, aliens are not generally a good thing. However, there are things that…" Silverthorne trailed off, putting a hand to his headset to listen in on something.
A long moment of silence passed with exception to the ambiance created between the whipping prairie winds and the work of alien corpse disposal. Silverthorne's hand eventually fell to the side and he gestured for Daniele and Roxanne to follow him. "Come, the Marines report the caverns below are adequately safe. They're letting you two have a look now."
"Why didn't they let us go down immediately after they brought back the survey drones?" Roxanne inquired.
"You're Spartans. Valuable assets to the Armed Forces, it would be rather bad on our parts to put you at risk."
"And the Hellbringers?" Roxanne pressed on with her doubts.
"They just had a situation. Something unexpected that they needed to investigate further, you'll understand when you go down there. Though, you won't be down there long. The thing they found changed how the IIU is going to go about eradication."
"What is it?"
"Hunter worms. Though, it's a bit hard to express into words. My CO was a bit vague on details."
"Oh?" Roxanne supplied, not sure how to respond to the Sergeant.
"Oh," The Sergeant agreed. "Switch your radio frequencies to the local military network band, should be labeled POST-M-FLASH. You'll want to disable most of your suit systems before you go down there."
"Disable?" Daniele glanced at the Sergeant's back as he twitched his cheeks to the cacophony of crushed Bugger bodies underfoot. He linked into POST-M-FLASH a second later.
"You probably know that Hunters are attracted to electrical disturbances, as well as metallic materials. They can identify threats that way, I think. The idea is that by at least reducing your suit functions, you'll appear less threatening."
"After all those bombs and the gunfire, you're certain they'll feel unthreatened?" Roxanne asked, her uncertainty returning.
Silverthorne simply shrugged without a word. He eventually halted upon nearing the surface cavity that spilled into the Bugger's former home down below. A squad of National Guard troops stood nearby, staring down into the hole with machine guns and grenade launchers at the ready.
"Rope up, you'll rappel into the caves from here," Silverthorne ordered and stepped back, clearly not entering the Hellmouth himself.
Well-versed with rappelling techniques from training, the two Spartans wrapped harnesses over the top of their Semi-Powered Armor suits and yanked at their fiber ropes to make sure they were secure. Daniele paused upon looking at the steel cables that descended into the pitch-black darkness below, the entry means for the Hellbringers.
"Didn't you say Hunters like metals?" Daniele asked over the radio, even as he glanced toward Silverthorne.
"It's why you're going to use ropes to go down there rather than cables. The Hellbringers should be fine but they're at greater risk down there because the worms are attracted to metals as I said. At least they're better equipped to stay down there than you are, the rope is an extra precaution since they don't tend to go for strings."
Daniele hummed at that nervously but said nothing else. He propped himself against the edge of the cavernous cavity and prepared to descend into the endless dark.
Something tapped him on the helmet. Turning to face said something, he found Roxanne's own golden fishbowl staring back at him, expressionless. Her voice on the radio was expressive though, lined by nervousness. "Ready to drop into Hell?"
Daniele nodded, sucking in a breath.
The duo pushed off the cavern-cliff cutoff and dropped into the shadows, blacker than the emptiest sections of dark space. It took only a second for their augmented pupils to adjust and what they found left them speechless.
A fireteam of Marine Corps Hellbringers in their brown-colored half-mechanized suits stood taller than the SPARTAN-IIIs and their fishbowl helmets, like the Spartans' own MIRAGE sets, with flashlights strewn across their bodies to bathe the subterranean space in light. But it wasn't the revealed, massive expanse that took the Spartans' breaths away, it was the Hellbringers standing in groundwater that rose up to their ankles and covering every square inch of watery space were the eels.
Each worm-eel thing was the length of Daniele's entire arm and they squirmed and swam about through the entire space, snaking around the Hellbringers' legs.
Over the radio, Daniele could hear the Marines chattering amongst themselves.
"Sarge, how cautious are we supposed to be – moving through this shit?"
"Kelso. Don't lift your feet through the mud, two-step it – inch by inch."
"How far do the caves go? What do you think Rodgers?"
"Hundred meters? Give or take? You could honestly fit a starship in here if you account for all the tunnels…"
"Damn."
Daniele felt his harness tighten and his paced descent, handled by a construction drone back on the surface, came to a halt – just about the worm-waters.
"Spartans are here." A female Corporal stated. This was the one marked as Kelso on Daniele's heads-up display, set to power-saving mode.
"Hellbringers," Daniele stated smoothly, letting his feet descend at a feather's pace into the worm-infested liquid.
"Welcome to this shithole. First time?"
"Yeah," Roxanne responded, untying herself from her rope harness as Daniele did the same. Through their armor, they couldn't feel the alien worms wriggling around them but watching them shift around them still made their skin crawl. Absolutely nasty.
"Alright, stay with us and you'll be fine – we're just going to perform some measurements around the cavern and do some recon. We should be fine if we take this slow and steady."
"Mm," Daniele nodded, gesturing by hand signal for the experienced war veterans to show the way.
Six mechanized warriors, four Hellbringers with their menacing flamethrower tanks and guns, and two lightly armed Spartan supersoldiers waddled at a snail's pace through the Lekegolo swarm. While the underwater surface was a rock bottom and easily navigated, the coursing worms made the terrain more like a swamp.
Daniele kept his MA5D trained towards the ground, neutrally focusing the weapon's flashlight and grenade launcher to the ever-present threat of the Lekegolo. Only when his eyes noted the approach of a cave wall did he pause to scan the rocky surface and the ceilings overhead.
The wriggling and splashing of the worm colony down here created an ambient base noise in the room that sounded eerily like dull buzzing, the same sound heard near power lines after a rainstorm.
At outcroppings where rocks rose out of the groundwater, the exploration group left red flares to mark their progress, illuminating indentions in the walls that contained yellowish pods that squirmed occasionally.
"Bugger larvae. Harmless, defenseless." The Hellbringer Sergeant noted gruffly.
The ceiling in the former Bugger den ascended very close to the surface, at very narrow zones – the Air Force bombs left loose stones, creating cave-ins. The Lekegolo in those areas seemed to move rapidly, squirming at a rate that behaved like a spewing geyser.
Corporal Kelso remarked on that, "They're investigating, you can tell from their agitation."
Some of the deeper corners of the cave were artificially carved, sanded into shapes unnatural and designed in intricate ways that fresh air could be heard filtrating into the caves and underground waterfalls redirected from nearby aquifers provided the area with clean water.
Then the group came across something purple, the ad hoc unit's flashlights gathering to focus on the object. Angular, a little bit curved. Exposed wiring and the dull glow of electronics. Covenant technology.
There was more of it too, spread out through the deeper cavern chambers.
It was Rodgers who informed Daniele and Roxanne on the significance as the rest of the Hellbringers gasped in astonishment. "No-no way… Looks like we found why the worms are in here, they've found a way to circumvent the safeguards."
"Why is this a shock?" Roxanne asked, sounding breathless at the full extent of the cavern's surprises.
"Lekegolo worms are natural radiation scrubbers to a degree. They're some of the most resilient life forms we know of, even capable of surviving in a pure vacuum. The Buggers were using them to salvage the radioactive Covenant starship equipment."
Specialist Rodgers continued to point out different Covenant technologies spread out through the cavern. Caches of plasma weaponry. Fuel cells. Salvaged pinch fusion reactors. Equipment fabricators. Entire starship plate armor sections used as structural supports and repurposed Covenant ship compartments for living spaces.
Large holes in the walls where Lekegolo seemed to slip in and out of sight were assumed to lead back to the wrecked Covenant cruisers that dotted the landscape above.
"Given enough time, they could have constructed an underground starship hangar."
"Oh my…" Roxanne whispered, grim possibilities developing in her head.
"We got to go." The Hellbringer Sergeant, Sarge, called over the radio link. He waved his hand and directed the group to retreat from the space.
It was slow but following their road flares back to the main cavern entrance proved successful.
"Strap in, we need to get out now."
The group hooked themselves in and with a quick order to the folks up above, the Spartans and Hellbringers ascended out of the Hellmouth. Their slow and methodical approach had proven successful, no Lekegolo worm latched on to them, no alien gave chase or a sign of agitation.
"Go ahead and pour the fuel," the female Army officer, some Colonel, ordered once the Spartans and Marine Hellbringers had reached the surface.
Daniele watched from afar, after relinquishing his rappelling gear. Time passed and the barrels kept coming. Purified shale oil, the United Republic was a treasure trove of oil deposits, and this specific mix was highly flammable.
The National Guard brought hundreds of fuel drums to the cave in the backs of Warthogs and they just kept dumping the fuel into the darkness of the caves below.
Daniele felt Roxanne place an elbow on his shoulder, leaning on him as she put her hand to her helmet as if to stroke her chin in thought. The pair of Spartans stood off from the main group, even from Sergeant Silverthorne as they took in the day's events.
For Daniele, today left him feeling exhausted, not physically but emotionally. It was one thing to watch Covenant get killed from afar, paying for their sins against Mankind. But after all that he had seen up close…
There was something extremely off-putting that the aliens hadn't put up much a fight. The one-sided slaughter, it was as if they simply keeled over and accepted death in mass. And being witness to it, first hand; something curled in Daniele's chest. He was trained to fight aliens but this was his first encounter with them, technically, ever.
The Spartan wasn't sure what the emotion was, freezing his blood and slowing time. He felt sick, sick towards himself. The aliens deserved this, one side of him was whispering. Another side was growling in agitation.
The soldiers began tossing fire grenades into the cavern. A violent quaking roared underneath the Spartans as the fuel mix igniting into a violent, aggressive explosion.
An ear-wrenching scream roared from the flames, an audible force so loud and so unified that it registered at a decibel level comparable to gunfire and Daniele's helmet compensated, dulling the noise to a manageable level.
He couldn't see it, but the Spartan knew what it was: Lekegolo, screaming in agony, dying as one.
Daniele attempted to drown out the screams, closing his eyes and willing his armor to mute the noise altogether. It didn't work, the screaming was in his head and for a moment, his mind went back to another time.
Three-year-old Daniele Veracruz staring up from his house's backyard, looking up at the gray sky as Covenant warships descended upon the human colony of Skopje.
He listened for his father's Chatter-phone as he watched a cruiser approach his mother's skyscraper where she worked.
A bloodcurdling scream roared in his ears from the handheld's speaker and his mind as the memory played out. The memory of a Covenant cruiser ramming through the tower and his mother plummeting to her death.