Chapter 1
| NIGHT // 20 DECEMBER 2559
Location: OBSIDION, DRAWN
|
Kyle Craig was dressed in a black leather denium jacket and black levi jeans. He gazed nonchalantly out the cold and frozen window to the city outside. The city was simply urban, just like he’d imagined - tall buildings in an exact grid pattern. Ubiquitous skyscrapers were smudged by the smog-filled sky, no sunlight, no birds. Cars raced between red traffic lights, stubbornly flickering in the grey.
He turned around, the room was an executive office. A cherry red conference table was planted in the middle of the room. Black leather executive chairs lined the table and were pushed in neatly. The room was customized to Kyle’s liking: a temporary base of operations that dubbed as more of a meeting place than a hideout. The lights fixed to the ceiling gave a lustrous glow that reflected off the duller objects around the office. The bookshelf that was embedded in the wall where encyclopedia’s and magazine catalogs were placed was empty. Kyle preferred it that way as there would be no time for reading in crime profession unless he had serious downtime. The rest of the room that was once alive, was now livid and depicted the cold winter from the peeling wall paint and shady architecture.
He approached the conference table to examine the contents that were scattered around in a meticulous manner. He leaned forward and placed both hands on the table to get a better view of the contents and studied them. The schematics were bombs, both chemical, physical and complex. He knew what their intended purpose would be for and he would soon upload them to a datapad before burning them. He turned his head to the left of the stack of schematics, shuffling a few papers to get a look at the plans for the later game. The schematics showed different skyscrapers and even a MagLev train along with the appropriate route systems.
He grabbed the schematics and rolled them up, placing them in separate tubes and sealing them with plastic end caps. He walked over to another room that was separate from the office and placed his hand on the biometric scanner. Access Granted. The walls dematerialized until an empty door frame was left, allowing him to step through. Separate crevices in the four walls lit up with white florescent light, revealing the room to be make of a similar white. As he walked inside, machine gun turrets retracted into the ceiling upon recognizing his presence. The room was filled with weapons and tech of his own design. Embedded in the wall was an electronic combination safe. He punched in the code and lifted the handle to open the safe and placed the tubes inside the safe for safekeeping. He would not be coming back here until the job was over.
Walking back into the executive office, the wall materialized back into its original form. He approached the multiple sets of panoramic monitors that worked as surveillance he set up earlier. Not only did they work for outside surveillance, but they would also detail the plans of the job. He imputed codes on the keyboard, typing casually and relaxed like he had nothing to worry about, so far anyway. One of the screens lit up, showing the hallway of the room outside the office. A male in a black suit and a pair of shades would be standing outside the door, holding a small manila envelope. The buzzer sounded echoing around the room like an angry hornet.
He approached the door and opened it, happy to see that the contact was none other than a Legion businessman named Chris Lowe. Chris had graying hair and a light scruffy beard to match. He smiled, satisfied and held out his hand to claim the contents that Chris was holding.
"I assume nobody followed you, Mister Lowe."
"No, my tracks were covered. It’s all here." He gave him the envelope. "Good luck."
Chris left the room and closed the door behind him as Kyle walked over to the head of the table and sat down in one of the leather chairs. Once he pulled out a letter opener and slit the top fold, he turned the envelope upside down and a datapad slid out. He chuckled at himself as he activated it and swiped through the list of hired guns. There were about fifty contract killers he could choose from, both good and evil, all from different backgrounds. But for this job he needed killers with both skill and cunning. He shifted through the list and was surprised to see a Sangheili on the it. Not just any Sangheili, but one that was skilled in close-quarters combat. A trait he knew would send King to his death.
Scrolling through the other contacts, he found another man who appeared to be in his middle age, blond hair, and dressed in business attire according to the photo. The description read that he worked for Legion and it was Legion that usually employed the best assassins. He scrolled some more, skipping through the less lethal methods and mediocre assassins—at least in his opinion. He found another assassin that worked for the Office of Naval Intelligence but was it a risk he was willing to take. He thought hard about the decision. Either he would eventually be captured, maybe even on the spot so he would have to come up with a backup plan to escape when this was over—or he could stay and kill the ONI assassin at the end of it all. He swiped left once more, the images scrolling by fast before coming to a halt on five more individuals. Once again mediocre, except one individual stood out. This person he could tell was indeed human but dressed in Sangheili-like armor. He gritted his teeth, not being able to stand the sight of this human turned abomination. Nevertheless, his skills were a necessity, trained on Sangheilios with a group of assassins. He would kill him eventually. Either way, all three were on par with the Sangheili. He tapped accept and sent out the invitations to everyone.
Chapter 2
| 21 DECEMBER 2559
Location: MEGALOPOLIS, PANDORA
|
Dressed in his police attire, Jason removed his hat as he entered the crowded ballroom of the Utopians for A Better Society charity hosted by Bureau of Criminal Apprehension. The ambience of the room was filled with conversation and lounge music played by the live jazz band. He gazed around and looked for his girlfriend, Emily Walker, who wore a white dress for this evening special event. She smiled and waved to catch his attention. He made his wait to the dining table and sat himself next to her so that he could get a good view of the stage and podium.
"You’re on time as always." She smiled as she rubbed his leg affectionately before taking a sip of wine.
"Yeah, tonight’s supposed to be a big night for both the LAPD and myself." He looked in her eyes with sadness and tears of happiness before continuing, "I’m getting promoted, Emily."
He turned his attention back on the podium as the Lieutenant from the Los Angeles Police Department was greeted by a series of BCA members, including the Director of Investigations, Andrew Cross. They firmly shook hands before the Director approached the podium to start the proceedings.
Cross tapped on the mic sending a reverberating shriek through the room. He flinched and then chuckled, "Sorry about that. I'd like to welcome everyone to the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension’s charity fundraiser, hosted by the Homicide Unit. It's been a great turnout and thanks to your generosity. So far, our silent auction earlier in the evening has raised close to ten thousand dollars to assist with the reconstruction efforts from the Earth riots of 2558 and the devastating Created uprising. So now, I’d like to introduce Lieutenant Paul Sanchez of the Los Angeles Police Department."
Applause echoed through the ballroom as Paul approached the podium to give his speech, before falling silent. "Things have been improving. A few months ago, we responded to a local bank heist on the human colony world of Corudeen with coordination of the local police departments on the planet’s major city. The robbery was foiled by a brave man who chose to save dozens of lives instead of capturing the bad guy." He gave a slight chuckle. "And although the bad guy did live to fight another day, we are working with the members of the BCA to apprehend the criminal. But please, this is no press conference. This is a celebration! Let’s give a round of applause to the newly promoted Jason Miller, Special Agent of the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension!"
A cacophony of applause and cheering came from the audience, while whooping, hollering, clapping echoed around the room from Miller’s colleagues. The raucous crowd fell silent as Miller took the stage. No doubt whoever had planned the order of the charity knew how to kick things off. He walked with confidence across the stage to stand next to the podium and Lieutenant Sanchez.
"Thank you everyone." He began as his voice bounced off the room. "This has been a joyous moment for me. I'd like to thank everyone in the LAPD for your support over the years. This has been a tough victory. But the race is far from over as I will continue to work with my co-workers both old and new to help bring all criminals to justice."
He turned to Cross to receive an open case, black velvet layered inside with a special agent badge made of glistening gold that shinned off the lights. Cross did the honors of handing the case to him. Miller turned towards the audience and held the case beside him, smiling with accomplishment as the pictures were taken and more cheering. He walked to the side and Cross took the podium again.
"On behalf of the Homicide Unit and the Los Angeles Police Department, Special Agent Miller, we wish you a prosperous future with the BCA."
"Now," Cross began again, "The moment you've all been waiting for! We are going to start raffling off four big items in honor of today's event. One of these big items includes a grand prize trip to Jaeter with its luscious landscapes and beautiful cities, so don’t forget to buy a raffle to participate in the drawing occurring at 12AM, with all proceeds going towards the National Law Enforcement Officers Memorial to celebrate the brave officers who died in the line of duty. So, without further ado, let the good times roll!"
The room was filled with entertaining joviality. Waiters floated with ease amongst the tables filling drink orders as officers and guests chattered and laughed amongst themselves. Miller walked off the stage and headed back to his seat. When he sat down beside Emily he pulled up the menu and skimmed over the items before placing his order.
"We should head to Jaeter sometime. My friends may be eager to meet you. It would be a nice vacation for the both of us."
"I agree, but it sounds expensive."
"Nah the planet is doing well and I’m sure the bureau can make accommodations."
A few moments passed, and their dinner arrived. Mushroom soup, bitter greens with tomatoes the size of peas, rare roast beef slices as thin as paper, noodles in a green sauce, cheese that melts on your tongue served with sweet blue grapes. The servers, all young people dressed in white tunics move wordlessly to and from the table, keeping the platters a glass full.
Miller reached out and took the spoon, sinking it in the soup and taking a sip. He dabbed his face with the napkins for speaking, "This is our day. You may receive some good news at the office today. You are likely to get more involved in work with patrol now that I’m going to be involved with the federal division."
"Sounds fun." She chimed in passionately as Miller placed a reassuring hand on hers.
"Everything’s going to be fine. Just stay away from the dark alleys and make sure you have backup on standby."
They both finished their meals and stood up, pushing their chairs in before heading to the exit to head back home for the night. Miller knew that tomorrow he would start his first day with the BCA and pondered over what exciting opportunities would come by.
Chapter 3
| 21 DECEMBER 2559
Location: STATE OF 'KORALUM, SANGHEILIOS
|
Red Blaze sat up from his cot in his room and stared out the window to the early cold morning watching the snow fall lightly. He could see the courtyard where both human and Sangheili would be training, but not today. Training would take place inside. Further on he could see the valley below and beyond that the mountains, each of them covered in a blanket of snow and ice. He pulled the covers away and sat up, rubbing his eyes from another restless night. He was tired, but he would try not to show it. He approached the armor stand which had his gray Sangheili armor tailored to humans and began equipping each piece ceremoniously, with pride and honor. When he was done he stepped out of his room where he continued to the training area that was relocated inside.
He casually walked down the corridor of the Order of Assassins training base. He admired the holographic images on the walls depicting different Sangheili warriors and assassins from a time long ago. He continued until he reached a set of double doors and pressed his head against it to listen in on what was going on, but nothing. He opened the door and found the grandmaster, wearing his own grey armor with black glyphs that indicated his was a high-ranking assassin, drinking his morning tea and eating some Sangheili food.
"Good Morning Master 'Koralum."
"Good Morning my pupil. Come have a seat." 'Koralum gestured for Red Blaze to take a seat.
He sat down on the plush mat in a cross-legged position before helping himself to a Sangheili meal. He ate the meal as a sign of strength and nourishment, taking his time as most of the grandmasters students would. Despite the awkward taste that most humans would find revolting, humans in the Order of Assassins were conditioned to eat their food as a survival measure. It was either you survive or die.
"We have an assignment for you. A test of great courage and great skill." 'Koralum got up and motioned for Red Blaze to follow, he did. They entered another set of double doors and into a command center. The command center was ancient, a wooden table stood in the middle that dubbed as a holotable of sorts. 'Koralum looked through the papers until he found a covenant datapad and gave it to Red Blaze. He continued, "Your assignment will be to assassinate the Demon of Fireteam Wolf."
Red Blaze activated the datapad and listened attentively as he scrolled through his targets information, a few details but not everything was there. He received a beep from the datapad and looked at the grandmaster quizzically. "The datapad says I have received new orders from a mysterious employer." He handed him back the datapad.
"Indeed." He flexed his mandibles in annoyance. "I am sure this employer will provide further instructions on your mission. But remember, you work for the Order of Assassins and any payment will help aid us in our endeavors."
Red Blaze gave a slight bow, hitting his chest with his arm. The traditional Sangheili salute. "Understood grandmaster, I will not fail you."
'Koralum considered it for a moment on whether it would be wise to kill this Kyle Craig, but shrugged it off with a huff. "We shall have transport waiting for you. Do be careful on your own journey."
| 21 DECEMBER 2559
Location: SAYAN MOUNTAINS, RUSSIA, EARTH
|
Damien Black exited the tent and walked towards a group of commandos. They had been geared for the winter time in the cold harsh element Sayan Mountains. He was wearing his custom white SPI suit, given to him by an unknown contact within the insurrection and it worked well enough to withstand the harsh winters.
"Gentlemen." He said in a thick British accent, each one turning to face him in a parade rest as a sign of respect. "At ease."
The commandos rested, and Damien pulled out a datapad from a satchel before continuing, reading the information given to him by his employer. "Our mission is a priority, our employer, whom chose to remain anonymous but is well respected in Russian territory has given us the opportunity to take out a rival gang member."
He gave the datapad to the first commando, who looked over the non-exhaustive list of details before passing it on to the next one, and so on so forth. The last commando gave the datapad back to Damien, who tucked it in a satchel.
"Alright, let’s move out."
The team of commandos entered the warthogs and transport trucks, with engines roaring to life despite the cold weather. Driving off into the void, they continued until Damien spotted a small cabin structure. The vehicles came to a halt several yards away and exited their vehicles.
Damien turned to one of the commandos, a tall man with broad shoulders. His helmet replaced with blond hair and an earpiece for comms. He gave a thumbs up and tapped a few keys on his own datapad. The enemy’s camera footage had been looped, and Damien gave a signal for the driver of his own vehicle to move out.
The transport truck moved silently through the snow. Damien knew that with Russia’s weather they’d be ghosts out here. After the truck reversed up the driveway almost butt up against the garage, the passenger side door opened, and Damien stepped out with his team of commandos. He reached for his M6 pistol and fastened the suppressor on. Eying the stairs he saw a few agents dressed in mercenary attire climb out over the stairs cast-iron rail. Using his hand to balance the pistol he took aim and fired, eliminating the two men with ease. Before their bodies could make a sound from falling on the floor, the commandos grabbed them and set them down quietly on the ground.
Damien walked casually up the stairs and peered inside the room. It was a large living room with a luxurious fire pit in the middle and a few armed guards patrolling the perimeter. He gave a nod to his men, slowly opened the door, and moved in quickly and efficiently as if this was cakewalk.
The commandos followed right behind him and as Damien slid up against the wall, the commandos took the lead, killing the rest of the patrol in the room with their suppressed weapons. They were heading up the stairs next, locating the leader, instructions being blurted in their headsets on where he would be located.
The gang leader, Marcus, had closed himself in the room and was about to make an escape when the door was kicked off its hinges. He took out a knife and was ready to throw it to kill Damien, but instead he missed by a few inches and stabbed him in the shoulder. Damien went down and cursed before taking a shot at the man’s knee caps. "Bag him and take him to our employer." The commandos did as they were asked and threw a head sack over the man's face and restrained him with zip ties before dragging him to the convoy.
Outside of the convoy a falcon was waiting, with its rotor blades spinning slower and reducing power. A man in a black trenchcoat with a Russian hat signifying a high-ranking officer stepped out with his squad of soldiers.
"My assignment is complete. Now my payment." Damien kept his tone respectful, he knew that these guys were hardcore and not to be crossed with.
"Indeed." Said the Russian commander. He waved a hand as two Russian soldiers dressed in their own custom black and red camouflaged SPI gear handed him a briefcase with a few credit chips inside, totaling a couple hundred thousand. He continued. "You’ve been given a new assignment, one from an unknown contact who wants the head of a Spartan." They exchanged datapads, as the Russian soldiers loaded the gang leader onto the chopper to await his fate.
Damien skimmed the details and found little about this employer he would be working with. All he had to go off was a location and the reward, large enough to buy five mansions or a good immunity deal if he needed one. He displayed a crooked smile. "I’ll work with my employer to assign me a frigate to head to this planet called Drawn. I look forward to a good hunt."
They shook hands and parted ways. Damien was about to take out his target, whoever it was on Drawn, and wouldn’t let any opposition stand in his way.
| 21 DECEMBER 2559
Location: FIRETEAM WOLF CAMPSITE, UNKNOWN COLONY
|
The forest was tannin-brown. The frozen grass was crispy under his feet. He looked up and the trees were skyscraper tall. The morning stars were shining like silver snowflakes. The peace of the morning was soul soothing, just the way he liked it when he was training. The forest’s smell was fresh and organic.
Holding the grip, he was able to balance the blade with ease. He aligned the knife with his target and he threw it.
Nothing felt better than launching a throwing knife toward a 4-inch bullseye and watching it firmly stick right in the middle. Knife throwing was as much of an art as it was a hobby because it requires concentration, practice and skill that would impress anyone in sight. While you can throw any knife at a target, it won't provide the precision and accuracy of a throwing knife specifically designed for the task.
Mitchel Sanders was dressed in his body suit, leg covers, gloves, and arm bands. Each part carried a specific item from throwing knives and ninja stars, to hidden blades. He approached the bullseye and removed the knife with ease, turning to face his squadron leader. "You see that! Triple bullseye!" He commented with excitement.
Kevin Smith pulled out a datapad and began punching in Mitchel’s results. He had recruited him to Fireteam Wolf because he was a skilled assassin. The last mission they went on he was able to track down a local insurrectionist cell on the colony of Farkus V. The operation went smooth and they acquired enough intel and destroyed the colonies Insurrectionists. Mitchel used stealth to take down the leader and they were gone like ghosts in the night.
"Good job, Mitchel." Kevin managed a smile before tossing him a black ops compound bow, "But can you take down a Cheetah?"
He considered it for a second, catching the combat bow and testing its aim, it would for sure be a good challenge. "I can try."
"Alright. Get to it." Kevin gave a playful punch to his shoulder before hooking up a cam device to Mitchel’s suit and getting the cam feed ready on the datapad.
Quickly making his way through the brush of the forest, he eventually found his target. The crossbow over his shoulder as he stalked a Cheetah. As he lifted his bow to his shoulder to take aim at the game, the sound of an airship drew his attention and scared away the Cheetah.
"Damn aircraft ruining my opportunity to impress my superior." He mumbled to himself in frustration.
The canopy was too thick from the ground. Slinging the bow over his shoulder, he climbed up the closet tree and scaled up to the top. Almost to the top he was over the canopy. It was a Pelican flying low coming in his direction going slow to avoid detection. He jumped, falling to the ground and took off to the training grounds.
The pelican landed near the training grounds, and they both shielded their faces from the oncoming snow that was being blown at them. When the engines were killed, two men dressed in black tunics bearing ONI insignia's on their shoulders walked out with a small security detail. One of them spoke up with a raised voice. "Sanders?"
Mitchel approached the two men out of curiosity, "That’s me."
"We need to talk."
Kevin nodded, "Proceed."
"One of your Spartans on your fireteam has chosen to go rogue and take out one of your old companions, Kyle Craig. Sound familiar?"
"It does."
The ONI agent handed Kevin a datapad. Kevin set his datapad on a cache before accepting the other one. He skimmed over the classified details before giving a nod to Mitchel. "So, our mission as stupidly dangerous as it sounds is to protect Kyle Craig?" His tone was disapproving.
"No. Your mission is to bring Craig into custody for questioning. As for the other man named David King. We cannot risk having him interfere with our suspect, so we need you to remove him from the equation, preferably alive."
"Bodyguard work. Sounds fun," Mitchel said sarcastically, "I’ll have some TTR rounds ready to bring them both down."
"Glad to hear it." With that done, the two ONI agents nodded and headed back aboard the Pelican.
Mitchel then received a ping on his chatter and opened it up to reveal an invitation from an unknown contact with a reward details and the target.
"What you got?" Kevin said.
Mitchel glanced sharply at Kevin, and his mouth twisted into a grim smirk. "Well... it’s a meeting and it appears that the target is David King. It seems that he’s elsewhere now, moving across the galaxy."
Kevin rubbed his jawline in thought. "Hm. Interesting..."
Mitchel gave Kevin a reassuring nod. "Don’t worry. I’ll update everyone when I find him."
Chapter 4
| 22 DECEMBER 2559
Location: TOWN OF WESTTIDE, UNKNOWN COLONY
|
At sunset the clouds gathered again, bringing an earlier night, and the snow began to fall straight and steadily from a sky without wind, in a soft universal diffusion more confusing than the gusts and swirling of the morning. It seemed to be a part of the thickening darkness, to be the winter night itself descending on us layer by layer.
Dressed in a dark ragged cloak that covered his scratched HUNTER-class Mjolnir, David King walked calmly through the snow, leaving a trail of armored shoeprints behind him. In the distance rose the purple-gray spire of a church and the irregular forms of old buildings that made up the small town.
He approached the large oak doors and entered inside. Moving into the passage, he wondered whether this quiet air tinctured with the scent of incense, candles and the more solidly Anglican smell of musty prayer books, metal polish and flowers had held for David also the promise of discovery, of a scene already set, a task inevitable, inescapable. The brightly lit passage with its floor of encaustic tiles and its white-painted walls ran the whole west end of the church.
He dipped his armored forefinger and middle finger in the carved and sculpted marble of the baptismal font that held the holder for a basin of water. He tapped his chest, making a sign of the cross; the Holy Trinity: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, before walking forward and sitting at one of the ornate church pews where he began to pray:
God,
Please help me see that revenge will only bring more hurt and anger and will not make me feel closer to You. God, please remind me that You are aware of my pain and that You have not left my side. I know that You do not want me to hold evil in my heart, and instead, I should trust that You will find justice for my hurt. Thank you, Lord, for listening to my prayers and taking away this pain!
Amen.
The church choir was different compared to other choirs that didn't sing hymns. Their voice was almost like angels', high notes soaring over the clouds, graceful notes dancing on the staves, and they sang for God only.
"There is an element that hits your soul, and you think it was God who treated you that way," A voice came from behind him, "It takes an effort to realize, 'No, it was a human being who was the furthest thing from God.' "
David turned to see a man standing in a robe that was something like a long-sleeved black dress with black buttons from the neck right down to almost the hemline. The black of the robe looked sharp and crisp contrasted with the white of the dog-collar: a priest. David spoke with depression but also determination. "Father."
It had been a while since he told anyone about his betrayal with his close friend, Kyle Craig. The two of them had been together since Spartan training and Spartan operations. They both made a great team even though they had a lot of differences, both competitive and personal. They would have even made a good pair of headhunters if they were Spartan-III’s but even they had their differences there, different viewpoints and moralities of the Spartan program. Their friendship came to an end on an insurrectionist colony known as Etheria and David chose to lock it all away, deciding to forget the past. Until now.
"What is the matter, my child?" The priest spoke with serenity.
"My best friend. He hates me. I left him behind. I was selfish, and I didn’t save him."
"Prayerfully consider how you've responded to a betrayal in the past. Ask yourself whether there were things you could have said or done differently. Pray for the grace to practice Christ's example in thought, word, and deed if the occasion continues, or should it ever arise again." The priest responded.
David gave a nod and marked the sign of the cross. "Thank you, Father. I must learn to forgive others before I can forgive myself." He got up and walked down the aisle to exit the church, finding peace where there was confrontation.
The sun was setting beyond the ridge of the mountains and nightfall was approaching fast, illuminating the sky with blue and purple hues where the stars would barely become visible. The snow continuing to fall gracefully in the night.
He returned to his temporary hideout. A small house that was box-shaped with its front door dead center, four small windows near each corner and constructed of the same red brick. A path made of leftover bricks made a shallow S-shape between the gate and the front door. The metal of the doorknob was cool against his palm and he twisted it with ease, entering the well-lit living room.
He placed the keys on a hook that was fixed to the wall near the entrance and walked into the living room. The room was not that big with brown bricked walls layered between small strips of white concrete. It was furnished lightly with a modern wooden bookshelf that held novels and magazines, and a work desk with a few pinup boards that listed various maps, targets, and schedules. Various fixed lighting illuminated the room in yellow and white hues that were just bright enough to give it a soft ambient feeling like that of a garage or basement. Opposite side of the living room was a Royce leather recliner that was facing the entrance to the home and a small television flat screen.
He sat lazily in the recliner that faced the entrance. He sunk in and he looked like he was melting. It was the first time he rested his body today. He kept his suppressed magnum on his lap in case anyone barged in uninvited, but tonight that would not be necessary. Nobody was out looking for him, at least that was what he thought. He pulled out his datapad and looked up some news feeds on the war effort; which seemed to never end with all the Innies, Covenant Remnants, and dangerous criminals who would want to get a piece into shaping the galaxy in their own image.
Tossing the datapad aside, he pulled out his friend’s dog tags and began to reminisce about that unfaithful day. He would have to schedule a meeting to apologize to his comrade in arms and hopefully his friend would forgive him, and he could return to living a normal life.
Chapter 5
| 23 DECEMBER 2559
Location: UNIDENTIFIED SHIP, ORBIT AROUND DRAWN
|
Grono 'Yendam sat idle in his chair aboard his ship, taking the time he had to rest before the mission. He and his cohort were in orbit around the planet Drawn, which Grono knew all too well. He had once visited this planet several years ago, back when he was the rogue Shipmaster of the pirate vessel Gauntlet of the Ancients. 'Yendam had unearthed an artifact that he planned to use to lead to the human's destruction, but he was defeated by two conjunction forces; The lone Spartan—Benjamin Nishurd—who had destroyed his ship and his army, and the Forerunner Ancilla—589 Curious Puzzle—who had denied him access to the artifact. That artifact was the Cleanser, a device of great power, but Puzzle, who had a certain programmed loyalty to the humans, had stopped the Shipmaster when he discovered Grono's true intent.
How funny it is, that just a few short years later, I'd be working with one of the enemies who caused my downfall? Indeed, Grono was now leading a new life as a rogue mercenary, working alongside his new partner in crime, Curious Puzzle. After this Created Rebellion had started up, Puzzle had been involuntarily rescued by Grono from those intelligences for a fee. He had deduced that since humanity had created the new enemies that now oppressed the galaxy, humanity was to fault. Given this, Puzzle had joined forces with 'Yendam, giving him a powerful new ally. Grono, although quite intelligent, took on the 'muscle' role in the duo, while Puzzle was the logisticics expert and coordinated strategies. Puzzle also took care of finding contractors to pay the pair, and that was why they were here now.
Puzzle had received an invitation from a mysterious employer named Kyle Craig, who offered them a chance to win an award if they could hunt down a man named David King. Grono had scoffed at the confidence of Craig, thinking a mere human would be an easy job too low for a Sangheili like him. But Puzzle had conversed with one of 'Yendam's cohorts, a fellow Sangheili named Oru 'Vanuxee. Oru had told Grono that Craig paid well, and had given Oru and his gang a bonus after doing exceptional in a break-out mission to help Kyle escape from local authorities. 'Vanuxee had also told him that the man offered extra credits to those who did side missions, which Kyle had plenty of. Grono lifted his head from the cushion it was resting on at the thought of the money he could obtain. So much money...
Puzzle entered the room just then, hovering above Grono. The AI stopped to look down at his partner, staring for a second, before revealing new information to Grono. "As I've said before, comrade, this job is different from many others, and I recommend we take it. I know you by now that you like the ones that are risky, and from some new information I have, you might be more interested in this contract."
Grono looked up at his associate. "Of course, Puzzle. Go on then, and tell me what information you might have on this?"
"This is apparently a sort of competition, as in the kind with players competing with one another. You and I have been matched up with three others out of fifty three nominees, and we have the chance to hunt down this 'David King'. Whoever does catch the notorious Reclaimer will win the bounty."
Grono snorted through his nostrils. "So this Craig is willing to set up all these pointless acts just to have one man's head? Interesting. Maybe this isn't all it's cracked up to be. Maybe there is a deeper connection, especially since Craig's chosen five out of fifty three to hunt down this one man. Do tell, what are these three opponents we have in our way to victory?"
"I do not know much from their descriptions, but this is what I know. One of them is a hitman that takes almost any job. Species is human. Another is a human assassin that works for the all too-well known organization, Legion." As Puzzle repeated this information, he flashed holograms from his single eye, first showing a human male with an assortment of dangerous weapons, then another wearing the familiar uniform that a Legion agent would have.
Grono clicked his mandibles, not intimidated in the slightest by either of these potential enemies. "So the second one works for Legion? Hmph. A waste of talent in my opinion. They pay too low for any satisfaction. A wonder how they can afford all their men. Now, the final opponent?"
Puzzle's eye clicked, and a third hologram appeared, showing the image of a human clad in Sangheili-like armor. Grono repulsed inside at the looks of the thing, but kept to himself. "This is the Red Blaze. A member of the Order of Assassins, which is a group on Sanghelios, he fervently studies your species' culture along with his peers. Blaze obviously wears Sangheili modeled armor because of this, and is looked down upon by humans and Sangheili alike. He does, though, have an affinity for combat."
"Well, I can say one thing about this abomination. He must be skilled in the art of combat in order to be so highly sought after. But I think he will make a fine competitor. If it comes down to it, I'll kill him myself."
Puzzle's eye blinked, and Grono knew what that meant. He walked into the cockpit of the ship and sat down, flipping a few switches and powering up the thrusters. "I assume it is time to go?"
"Yes."
Grono pulled down on the switch at his front left and maneuvered towards Drawn. As he entered the atmosphere, he could recognize certain aspects of the planet from the last time he came. 'Yendam steered the vessel towards a large city called Obsidion, taking note of the many large structures jutting out of the ground like stalagmites in a cave. Puzzle flashed him the coordinates on the control screen, and the ship drifted towards a landing pad near one of the largest buildings. They touched down, and Grono departed the ship alongside with Puzzle.
Grono turned to his cohort. "So, this Craig is one of the more aristocratic ones in this city? I'd hate to have to put another rich one in their place."
Puzzle stared blankly at the Sangheili. "Of course not. He robbed a facility of its currency and used it to purchase a penthouse at the top of this location. He is using the rest of the money as the reward for the bounty."
"And how do you know of this," asked Grono inquisitively, peering at Puzzle. "I doubt a master criminal like him would give away valuable information like that."
"Of course not," replied Puzzle, zooming towards the entrance as Grono followed. "But you know my tendencies, don't you comrade? And besides, You can get a lot from weakly defended files."
"Of course."
They entered the lobby, and Grono could see that they struck fear when they did. This planet was a mere backwater, populated by humans, Unggoy, and Kig-Yar, but most people here had probably never seen a Sangheili before, let alone one as large as 'Yendam. And most had never seen a Forerunner intelligence before either, in fact. Grono stood around, gazing at the human luxuries, while 589 consulted the front desk, talking for a while. Soon after, Puzzle returned, with information about what to do.
"We shall take the elevator up to the top floor, where we shall wait to go in."
Grono and Puzzle got onto the elevator, and it started to go up. Soon, Grono found himself impatient, longing for the gravity lifts of Covenant ships, back in his days of service during the Great War. Eventually, they did make it to the top, and the duo strode over to the welcoming entrance. Before they could make it halfway, an attendant opened the doors and beamed at them. Beckoning the pair inside, he bumbled with excitement.
"Ah, yes! You are the first ones here! Just wait here, for Kyle Craig is a tad bit busy right now, but he will come soon."
The attendant left, and 589 started bustling around, examining the many souvenirs, while Grono seated himself in a large, plush chair. And then, Grono waited.
Chapter 6
| 23 DECEMBER 2559
Location: OBSIDION, DRAWN
|
The streets were almost empty, with a few transit vehicles lighting up their out of service signs and shutting down for the night. Mitchel looked at his watch, a quarter till two in the morning. He configured it to match with the times on this planet as almost any assassin may have. They were always meticulous in there work when hunting down the targets, going to meetings, even their sleep schedule was down to a T. As he walked across the nearly empty street, following the rules as he didn't want to attract the attention of law enforcement he made his way to a tall building that looked like a corporate bank. He thought to himself, why would some stranger hire assassins in a bank?. He continued and pushed himself through the large revolving door and into the lobby.
The lobby was big. White lighting fixed to the ceiling that gave the rest of the room a luxurious feel to it. The rest of the room was decorated with marvelous painting and various plants in abstract pottery. He approached the brown oak translucent receptionist station. The receptionist who was typing up logs in a datapad but greeted the man with a smile.
"How may I help you?"
"I’m here to see Kyle Craig." He pulled out the datapad showing it to the receptionist, who, gave a nod and proceeded to add his information to the record.
"Top floor, down the hall." She replied bluntly.
Mitchel nodded and headed to the elevators pushing the button and waiting nervously. His first assignment to apprehend the son-of-a-gun and he was ready. The elevator doors opened up and he stepped inside, slipping on his black fingerless gloves as the doors closed. He punched the button to the top floor. Once the doors parted he stepped outside and followed the directions to the conference room. He weighed his options. I probably shouldn't detain him yet, security could be tight. Best wait for the meeting to be over with.
He looked around the room and saw a camera fixed above the door keeping an eye on the entire hallway. He gave a sigh as he leaned up against the wall waiting for further instructions. He was here now, why wait. Just let me in and give my assignment so we can apprehend David and Craig. Mission accomplished. Was it that simple? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow of a man not much taller than he was walking down the hallway until he made a left. He was wearing a black charcoal suit and a pair of leather gloves. Mitchel raised a brow in suspicion before he gripped the throwing knife on his leg.
"Settle down, young man." The man called down in a British accent with courtesy of a gentleman. Mitchel thought to himself. A voice much like that of Craig's, minus the British linguistics, but is he just as dangerous? He would find out soon enough. The man walked closer until he was arms length away.
"So you’re one of the assassins sent to kill the mega-million dollar contract. Why am I not surprised?" He said with a sly smile on his face.
"What is your name?"
"Why should I tell you, you'll just kill me and my friends and the entire team I was assigned to."
The man in black attire gave a sarcastic frown. "No, I’m here to kill someone else, then my business will be concluded. Then after I will return to Venezia." He leaned up against the other wall, facing Mitchel with his arms folded. Examining his ninja-like attire.
"Well guess we'll find out soon enough." He nodded his head to the right. "Looks like we got another visitor."
The hallway darkened by another shadow of a stranger. This one wore a helmet and armor similar to that of a Sangheili warrior. Foolish. Our contact sent a child Sangheili. Maybe the target isn't as cunning and deadly as I thought. Mitchel moved his hands slowly to his waist, clenching his magnum. He could see the man in black doing the same thing. Two against one will put me at an advantage. He was about to draw when he found out that it was not a Sangheili child, but a human in Sangheili-like armor. Shit. He knew from the armor's designs that this was no ordinary soldier training in human combat, but that of a deadly assassin training in the art of Sangheili stealth and combat.
"Don’t kill him, unless you want your blood painted on the walls and who knows what our new employer would think next."
The man in black slowly lowered withdrew his hand from his sidearm and relaxed, not out of fear but out of mutual respect for a group of assassins.
As the Human-Sangheili strode down the hall, Mitchel noticed that he was keeping his distance. Good for you. They all would wait patiently to meet their new employer.
When all had settled down, the doors opened, revealing a cheery looking man with a bright smile painted on his face. He wore a black suit and tie, and greeted them. "Greetings! You three must be the ones called here by Kyle Craig! Wonderful! I will be your escort, so follow me! We must hurry, I would not say you are late, although the first assassin got here hours ago, and has been patiently waiting for the rest of you."
The escort bumbled inside, humming a precarious tune, all the while adjusting his tie. He seemed jumpy, although cheery and good-natured as well. There was a meager but modest collection of furniture and antiques in the room, including a shelf stocked with vials and neat, crisp bulkheads along the walls. In the center was a ring of plush sofas, one of which was occupied by a ginormous Sangheili, outfitted in a hulking Warrior harness once used by the now deceased Covenant Remnant. Hovering near the Sangheili was a Forerunner Ancilla, the most surprising thing in this room. The Artificial Intelligence had a red chrome exterior, with an energy green eye as a compliment to that, making it look like some sort of jewel rather than a Forerunner AI.
The Sangheili stared at the group and clicked his mandibles, evidently having been waiting here for some time like the escort had said. "So, the entourage arrives."
The Ancilla beamed its eye, and zoomed towards the group, examining each one precisely with its cycloptic eye. "I was right, comrade! They are exactly as I said. There's the Sangheili mimick, the Legion huntsman, and the other one! I told you that I never fail to identify."
The Sangheili stood up, stomping across the room in his heavy boots. "That's not a first. After all, you've proven your worth to me more than enough times."
The Ancilla acknowledged and turned back to the group. "Greetings! I am former Monitor 589 Curious Puzzle, and this is my partner, Grono 'Yendam. I see that you must be our competitors." Grono stared at them apprehensively, eyeing the human with the Sangheili armor with disdain.
"Even though I know who you all are, would you mind introducing yourselves anyway?" asked Puzzle.
Mitchel gave a chuckle and thumbed at the man in black. "Well, you gave him away easily." He quickly drew his magnum at the man in black and aimed it at his head, ready to pull the trigger and end his life. "And since this is a competition. I might as well decrease the odds of losing."
The man in black's eyes widened in fear at how fast his draw was but continued nervously. "Well I am Damien, and yes I am with Legion, so you would kindly lower your weapon so we can continue with the introductions. More time to kill me when I have a head start."
Grono 'Yendam's mandibles curled into a menacing snarl, and he activated an energy sword, putting it up to the Sangheili-Human's neck. The sword seemed very hot compared to a normal blade and had an acidic green color. "I guess if we narrow down the competition, there will only be three. I was debating whether to kill the poor imitator of my kind later, but it seems like the perfect time to slay him now.”
The Human-Sangheili gave a low growl from underneath his helmet that concealed his face before responding. "Would it be a good idea to kill a member of the Order of Assassins of Sanghelios as well as a member of the Flame? I may not have earned a rank in the Heralds of Fire, but I have gained Lord 'Skivich's trust. Now choose your next move carefully."
The Sangheili lowered his weapon, his guard still up. "The Flame? You? I have not been told of this by any of my contacts. You are right in the fact that you cannot be a Herald of Fire, but you have met Lord 'Skivich personally? This changes many things. I may not be a part of that empire, but I do work for them sometimes and have made acquaintances with a Herald known as Oru 'Vanuxee, one of the best mercenaries for the Merciless. And in the Flame, even humans are allowed. 'Skivich is not an honorable Sangheili, nor will he ever be. But I suppose because of that he has let you live despite your origins. And I know as well as you that 'Skivich has no mercy, and will send practical hells upon those who cross him. If not for my knowledge of his ways, you would be dead by now. Be lucky I let you live."
“Indeed. Oru ‘Vanuxee brought me into the Flame and I owe him much respect. I was on the planet Jaeter when he brought me into the organization. I was looking for a purpose and a place to use my skills. I have killed many targets, but now I seek to kill the greatest one of all. Do you know where our new employer may be?”
A pair of doors creaked open, as a man wearing a dark navy suit with dirty blond hair combed neatly in an ivy league hairstyle. He was dressed for the occasion. A smart criminal opportunist ready to begin the meeting. Everyone ceased conversing and turned their attention to the wealthy-looking businessman. Mitchel cleared his throat and lowered his weapon, holstering it and turning his attention to the man with a parade rest posture. Was this the man he was assigned to bring into custody? No matter. It will all end soon.
The man looked around at everyone before saying one thing. “Welcome to the Assassination Games.”
Chapter 7
| 23 DECEMBER 2559
Location: OBSIDION, DRAWN
|
The room took in a moment of silence. Everyone would snap their heads, bringing their attention to Kyle Craig. He approached the head of the table, pulled up a chair and sat down. He snapped his fingers and a man dressed in a black suite and tie walked calmly towards Craig and leaned down as he whispered something in his ear. He turned his attention to everyone in the room and spoke calmly.
"Please, everyone have a seat." He gave a cruel smile. "I assume everyone knows everyone, due to the heated discussions earlier, but I have a zero tolerance for violence in this room. Everyone will have a chance to kill each other when they exit." His smile faded as he pulled out a datapad and began punching in something. "So everyone. I'd like to know a little about all of you before I tell you about me and what needs to be done. You all will state your names, occupations-whether classified or not-and why you are interested in hunting down your target. Anyone who refuses, they won't be shown the door if you know what I intend."
Everyone sat down in one of the plush sofas, sinking into them, but not so much as to avoid good posture and eye contact with Kyle.
Mitchel cleared his throat again, trying to remain calm about the situation that escalated earlier. "I am Mitchel Sanders. I work as an operater assassin for the Office of Naval Intelligence. I came here to..." He trailed off, trying to think of an elaborate excuse to not have his brains splattered all over the room, and he continued. "To kill my contact and use the funds to pull out of ONI and start my own life." It was a good excuse, but would his employer buy it?
Kyle noted this. "And your skills? What is it that you do? Who was your hardest target to kill?"
"I'm good with blades, hand to hand, and an expert marksman. My hardest target to kill was my trainer, who betrayed me."
"Very well." He turned to the next person, the man dressed in black. "Your turn. State your credentials."
"Damien Black. I work for the Russian Mob under a different employer who assigned me to you to eliminate this contact, whoever he may be. My skills are best with Close Quarter Combat. I like to get close and personal to my prey. Nothing like feeling their life slip away in your hands."
Kyle was impressed by Damien Black. "Interesting skill and mindset. You're exactly what I need to get the job done Mr. Black. But how do you favor against this human in Sangheili armor?"
"Red Blaze," The Human clad in Sangheili armor said with pride. "I work for both the Order of Assassins and the Flame. I am interested in hunting down my target to bring peace to my clan and 'Koralum keep on Sangheilios. This enemy you speak of. I think when he gets rid of you, he will start by getting rid of 'Skivich, of the Flame, and Sanghelios. And for that he must die!" He slammed and armored fist into the table, seething with hate and rage.
Kyle was impressed, anger was the key to dark motivations, but also the downfall if not channeled. "Yes, some of you seem under-qualified." He turned his gaze to Grono and his assistant Puzzle. "While others are over-qualified." He had to set the edge, this was a competition after all.
It was now the Sangheili and AI's turn to introduce themselves. Puzzle nodded towards Craig and started. "Greetings! I am 589 Curious Puzzle, the former monitor of the Cleanser. With no further purpose, and the uprising of the Created at humanity's hands, I have decided the only course of action is to stay low and minimize contact with other AIs. This is my partner, Grono 'Yendam, once a Sangheili Zealot in Jul 'Mdama's late Covenant, now a highly skilled mercenary that I work with on missions. We make quite an effective pairing, with 'Yendam acting as the brawn of this duo, an expert in close to mid-range weapons, and also a master of the blade. I serve as the technician, and I am a very superb AI with abilities far beyond any human Intelligence, not to mention equipped with my own self-defense weapon."
Grono clicked his mandibles and spoke up. "We are only here for the money, nothing else. The opportunity to slay a Demon is tempting, though. I have not cracked through one's armor since the Requiem Campaign, and I lost the opportunity almost a year ago when two Spartans tried to hunt me down for killing one of their precious Admirals. I cannot be taken down so easily, though."
He considered the skills, rubbing his chin thinking about ideas. "The two of you. How do I know you're not going to blow the competition and claim the prize without giving the others a head start?"
The assassins in the room exchanged worried looks; maybe he was on to something; best to leave while they still could, but they couldn't because they all needed more details.
'Yendam laughed. "Because if I wanted to, all of these 'assassins' would be dead by now. Puzzle would help me take care of finishing off these poor excuses for warriors, and we'd be the only ones you would be speaking to at the moment."
The room was quiet for a second before Kyle whispered to himself in satisfaction. "Of course Grono and Puzzle have the upper hand, I applaud them for that. This game will be in their favor."
"So who are we killing?" Damien spoke up.
Kyle dragged the files from the datapad, transferring them to the holotable that was embedded in the center of the conference table. The images showed a man in HUNTER-class armor with all his information declassified to the best of Craig's knowledge. He leaned forward with interest and clasped his hands on the table. "This is David King. An assassin for ONI like Mitchel over there. I noticed that some of my shipments around the outer colonies has gone dark and one of my men reported back to me, describing the man as a relentless monster."
He moved his hand around the datapad, bringing up more images to the holotable, "This guy is quiet the psychopath, like me, and will stop at nothing until he sees me dead." He gave a slight chuckle and a sly smile. "That is why I hired all of you. Each of you have your own special talents to bring this guy down. I must warn you all. He is an excellent sniper."
"I'm up for the challenge." Red Blaze chimed in. "But if this guy is as good as you say he is, then how much is the reward?"
"Three million credits." Kyle said, the room turning in whispers and chatter as the assassins talked among themselves, eager to claim the prize for their own endeavors.
"Alright then. Where do we find him?"
"I'm giving each one of you a drive where you can upload the schematics into your datapads. You all will be given different locations on his routes he takes, but you're all more than welcome to do your own recon work. Any other questions?"
With no questions asked, Kyle stood up, "Alright, get out there and kill Mr. King! Remember to bring me his severed head. No copycats or cheating."
Each assassin excused himself one by one, being wary of the others around them, until the room was quiet with only Mitchel, Grono, Puzzle, and Kyle. Even the attendant had left in the midst.
"Mitchel. Nice to see you again." Kyle said with a calm voice, eager to see a member of his old fireteam again. He started to walk over to greet him.
Mitchel excused himself and walked over to meet his old companion, he had a mission to do, orders to follow. Was he about to risk it all over casual conversation? Nope. The room was too hot, but the reward....
"The same could be said for you Kyle." He embraced him in a warming hug and laughed. "It's good to see you again."
"If you're done with the reunion tours, could I speak with you about a matter?" asked Grono, clearly disgusted by this friendly meeting. "I have questions regarding your acquisition of the money, and some cohorts. 589 wants answers. So if you could finish with the pleasantries, that would be most appreciated."
Mitchel pulled away, "Why don't you come back to the team. Your alive, so all is well."
Kyle thought about the situation for a second and gave a slight smile. "Well I cant do that now..." He gestured around the room. "Not with all the success I've had running this small business."
He gave a nervous glance before finding that his wrist was gripped by Mitchel's hand, almost forcefully. He raised an eyebrow and knew what was up. He would not go down now, he continued to play along careful not to get killed in this room by this assassin. "Now why don't you join the others. Surely you know that any suspicions against me would have daunting repercussions."
Mitchel's eyes darted to Grono and Puzzle. "Of course. We are done here." He released his grip casually and gave a pat on Kyle's shoulder. "Later bud." He exited the room.
Grono looked at the Spartan with disdain as he left. "You know as well as I do what his priority is, Mr. Craig. Don't underestimate my knowledge, or Puzzle's skills. All three of us know that he's going to try bringing you in to the Demon Makers. Of course, the only reason I tell you this is so I can get my money from you without any flaunts."
Kyle eyed Mitchel, watching him intently as he exited the room before turning to Grono and flexing his wrist. "I know. I can't kill him, none of us can or 'they' will find out when one of their squadmates is missing. There is a specific reason why I chose Mitchel, and that is to gain intel on my enemies from the inside." He thought for a second, weighing his options. "I am not surprised that he may have put a tracker or a mic on me when he touched me."
"That is quite right," Puzzle agreed, "I am detecting a small energy pulse emanating from the spot on your arm where he touched you. There is indeed a microchip inserted in your skin. Mind if I remove it?"
"Of course not." He held out his arm to let Puzzle to do the job.
Curious Puzzle scanned the arm, a red ray of light passing along the width of the wrist. It stopped on a tiny dot that could easily have been mistaken for a freckle, and Puzzle zapped it, scorching a small area of skin. The chip fell to the ground, where Puzzle gravitated the device up with a hard light beam. The construct then focused the beam, making the chip glow, before stopping and incinerating the chip. 589 then turned to Kyle, the job done.
"I apologize for any pain I might have caused you. I have removed the chip and deleted its data. If the chip emits data at timed intervals, then Mitchel will not know a thing, now that it is destroyed. If it emits constantly, and he was listening in before I terminated the recorder, then I fear that is all I can do."
He rubbed his wrist from the pain that radiated through it. The sting had faded to a dull throb. "Some friend indeed." He had a bitterness to his voice, before he turned his attention to Grono. "I may be able to give you a bonus if you can distract him or misdirect him from the bounty, I can't have him come back here with his friends."
Grono shaped his mandibles into what could pass for a malicious smile. "I can do that, definitely. With some more files to break into, I'll know more than just about him working for ONI. Much more. Say, do you have a datapad in this residence?"
"I do." He took a datapad out of his jacket and placed it on the table, sliding it over to Grono. All the details were in there.
Grono picked up the datapad and scrolled through the contents. Satisfied, he held it out for Puzzle to scan, and when that task was done he set the tablet back down on the table. The Sangheili turned back to Kyle. "Say, will I get a bonus if a I kill the human? It will be much easier to mop that incident up, and you can't take the blame for his death because you didn't commit it. I'm already wanted by ONI, so I won't mind becoming a higher priority. Especially if it is for slaying a Demon."
Kyle took the datapad and placed in back in his jacket pocket. "Of course. I can pay you a sum of the credits since this is like a side mission."
"Then we are agreed. I kill both Demons, we become on good terms, then I get my bounty."
Content, Grono exited the room. Puzzle remained, before exiting a few moments later. The Assassination Games would now begin.
Chapter 8
| 23 DECEMBER 2559
Location: OBSIDION, DRAWN
|
Mitchel walked down the corridor and saw the others parting their separate ways, heading in opposite directions. He had a way of walking that made him seem perpetually in a hurry. His steps weren't long but they were rapid, like a speed-walker without that odd twisting motion they make. He arrived at the elevator and glanced left and then right, all clear. He pushed the button and the elevator doors slide open and he walked inside. The doors slid shut and the elevator descended to the lobby floor without stopping. When the doors slid open he bid the receptionist farewell and continued outside onto the city streets.
He continued down the busy intersecting streets of the city until he made his way to the Obsidian Station. He approached main station entrance and made his way to the ticket booth, where he bought a ticket to Station 9 where he had his Pelican waiting at the hanger. The receptionist gave him his ticket and he continued on his way boarding the metro. The train had gravity boosters crudely welded onto it, to represent the way the former Covenant species and the humans worked together with their technology. It was still packed but he found a seat to keep himself distant from any other strangers on board. The train started with a slight jolt then the feeling that one’s stomach was being squeezed happened, and blood was rushing through every part of the body as the train accelerated. While it may have been normal for most people on the train, it had been his first time and the feeling was riveting.
The train arrived in the outskirts of the city to where the hanger was. The train slowly decelerated, coming to a halt as the doors slid open with a hiss and the passengers exited the train. Mitchel got up and started to exit the train, following the directions to where the hanger was. As he entered the airport he found himself among the sea of irritated and annoyed faces, there were old and young all who whined with an equal premise of complaints all either leaving or arriving late for the upcoming holiday. The sound of plasma fire echoed the airports terminal. The crowd screaming and taking off in all directions, Mitchel pushed passed them to get away from the chaotic plasma fire that he heard many times throughout the post war era. He turned to look at the enemy who was after him, he recognized the golden armor and the appearance of a Sangheili—Grono 'Yendam!
Grono 'Yendam fired his storm rifle into the crowd, mowing down several bystanders not able to get out of the way in time. Seeing Mitchel, he narrowed his eyes, still holding his rifle at the ready as he moved in for the kill. Following him was the intriguing AI Curious Puzzle, keeping an eye on Mitchel in case Grono would lose him.
"Your time is at an end, human. Submit willingly so I won't have to kill any more civilians that get in my way. If you choose to run, so be it. I will find you, and give you a quick death, not for your sake, but for my own," The Sangheili stated, his jog slowing into a walk, still focused solely on Mitchell.
Mitchel shook his head. Are all Sangheili this naive? He continued to run pushing past the crowd before hopping on one of the escalator rails and sliding down, he continued to where he found a door and took it, not stopping he continued down a flight of stairs to where the tarmac was. He pushed his way through another door and found himself outside of the airport where the tarmac was, his Pelican vehicle stored in one of the private hangars a few miles away.
Behind him an explosion broke through the building; a shockwave launching several denizens through the air and into the side of a cafe across the street. The Sangheili mercenary jumped out through the hole torn in the airport's wall, completely unscathed, and brought up his storm rifle, firing several barrages in Mitchel's direction. Puzzle was nowhere to be found, but the focus right now was to escape from 'Yendam before he could end Mitchel!
The sound of plasma fire whizzed past Mitchel, but he didn't bother even looking back because if he did he might as well be dead. There were tons of things happening at once: fuel trucks transporting fuel to the aircraft, ladders being climbed by workers, aircraft leaving and arriving. He had to make a quick decision to get away from this elite that was chasing him. He spotted a small aircraft vehicle, hopping in and jump started the vehicle up, the vehicle's VTOL abilities kicking in as he ascended off the ground, moving forwards and away from the airport. His destination was towards the outskirts of the city, somewhere safe where he could report in.
As he finished his ascent, he could hear a thrum on his left wing. Looking over to it, he saw a plasma grenade sticking to the rotor, primed to ignite. With no way to safely jump at this altitude, Mitchel decided to stay in the aircraft as the grenade went off, blasting shrapnel his way and cutting a long gash in his left arm. Waiting for the VTOL to drop low enough, Mitchel bounded out of the cockpit towards a nearby store roof as the craft went down in flames. Barely grabbing hold, Mitchel started to pull himself up and looked down. The building was taller than he anticipated, at least five stories in height! Getting a grip on himself, the Spartan-IV clambered up onto the roof.
He looked around for the Grono, he didn’t want to waste too much time because the elite could be catching up. He looked at his surrounding and saw a few other small building that he could get to and make a quick escape, he put pressure on his arm to get the blood to clot and prevent further blood loss, jumping down two stories onto the rooftop of another building, combat rolling and getting back up to continue to sprint on. Seeing a fire escape he used it, parkouring down to the streets below. Being that close to getting killed by one of the assassins made him feel insecure, the whole situation was a little overwhelming, if Grono was after him then who else would be after him?
Sure enough, the Elite came from overhead, flying high above the streets with a jetpack holstered on his armor-clad back. Finally spotting Mitchel, the mercenary snarled before flying towards his position, rifle still in hand. As he set down on the pavement with a thud, the milling citizens ran off in fear, one of the Unggoy tripped to the ground as he did so. 'Yendam paid him no heed however; Sanders was his prime target.
Mitchel continued to run, using the crowd of citizens as cover and blending into the panicked crowd, Grono may have caught a glimpse of him from time to time. He grabbed a cloth from one of the shopping stores and continued to run without paying. There was no time to lose as he bandaged up his wounded arm tight. It would have to do for now till he could get some proper medical attention. He darted left into an alleyway, knocking over some trash cans in an attempt to slow him down. He completed a wall run, then grabbed onto the ledge and hoisted himself up. He had a few tricks up his sleeve and waited patiently for Grono to follow, his hand tucked under his arm.
The Elite soon arrived, flying up to Mitchel via jetpack. Touching down, the mercenary swapped out his storm rifle for a bulky concussion rifle; a weapon that had much more firepower. "Normally I am not one to brag," stated Grono. "But I do appreciate this jetpack. Amraa Voto-pattern, top of the line. Constructed by the most talented merchants of Quikost. But it's time to finish the job," 'Yendam said, hoisting up his concussion rifle. "I've wasted too much time already."
Mitchel stood ready to make his move, "You talk to much." He threw a few throwing stars to distract Grono then suddenly held three marbles in between each finger, throwing them to the ground. They ignited with a deadly VX nerve gas that formed a dense cloud that spread quickly covering at least two miles in all directions. Mitchel's suit would filter out the chemical so he took a few backsteps before backflipping off the roof and down to the streets below, withdrawing his dual smgs and took aim, ready for the Sangheili to use his jetpack again.
Grono 'Yendam growled ripped out a gas filter, shoving it between his mandibles to prepare for the gas. Retreating out of view, the Sangheili had left as the gas started to spread. Eventually the toxin was completely surrounding Mitchel, and that was when the Elite struck. Barreling into Mitchel, the mercenary knocked him down before Mitchel could comprehend what was happening. Mitchel then kicked Grono in the shin, causing him to flinch, but the bounty hunter just fired the concussion rifle twice at point blank range, hitting Kyle straight on and knocking his Submachine guns out of his hands. Grabbing the Spartan by the collar, Grono activated his jetpack and flew up several stories high, to the roof of an apartment building.
Once up there, Grono threw Mitchel down and lay a large, gold-clad boot upon his chest. Drawing a plasma pistol, Grono held the trigger, charging it up to deliver the killing shot. Keeping a careful eye on Mitchel, the Elite said, "Your time ends now, Demon." The Sangheili didn't seem to be completely on guard though; as if he was expecting that Mitchel would escape.
Mitchel struggled under the boot of the elite but he would not give in so easily. Suddenly an accurate sniper shot would hit Grono in the chest causing his shields to flicker and another would scrape against his helmet as a sign that was to not fuck with his friend. Mitchel, seeing the perfect opportunity to attack Grono, withdrew his combat knife and stabbed it deep in Grono's shin, twisting the knife so the wound would not close properly and kicking him off. David, he's here. What a relief that the bastard is more or less on my side. Seeing his chance for escape he ran, jumping off the roof and onto the streets again and back to the airport.
Grono just stood there, looking around bewildered. "King? The bounty is here?"
Mitchel didn't look back he continued to sprint to the hanger, slowing down after being exhausted from running and fighting for a few hours. He made it to the hanger, activating a code to open it up as a shocked crowd gathered around him, most were scared of the events that transpired while others wanted answers to the attack on the airport.
As they gathered, 'Yendam broke through the crowd, knocking down a Jackal before walking up to Mitchel. Keeping his weapons, stored, Grono bared his mandibles at Mitchel. Looking around at the bystanders, Grono just clicked his lower mandibles. "I will kill you here and now, human, right in front of all these civilians. There is nothing you can do now."
A few of the startled citizens would start to gather the courage to face the Sangheili terrorist before them, one of them shouted out, "That elite killed some of our friends and families!" Another shouted, "Good way to interrupt the holiday you split-chin!" A few would stay back to call the local authorities, who would call the Bureau of Criminal Apprehension and possibly ONI who would investigate these attacks soon enough.
"A small sacrifice they are willing to pay it seems, either you kill them and I escape and regroup with my team to kill you or you stand down now and run." He had a hard edginess to his voice, no way the Sangheili could put up a fight with that wounded leg of his. The hanger opened up, revealing a UNSC pelican inside, he slowly backed away into the hanger as the mob started pressing forwards.
Surprised by the fact that civilians were courageous enough to turn on him, Grono hesitated for a moment, before grabbing a woman by the neck. Her screams were cut short as an energy dagger ignited from a mount on Grono's wrist, slitting her throat. Throwing the body to the ground, the Elite held out his dagger hand towards the crowd, pushing them back. "Any other beings here wish to die?"
As the citizens drew back, gasping at the woman's sudden death, a squad of six police officers arrived on the scene; a pair of Grunts and a trio of humans lead by a Skirmisher deputy. Ushering the citizens to safety, they surrounded Grono, holding up Magnum and Plasma Pistol sidearms towards him. "Give yourself up, Sangheili!" Yelled the Kig-Yar deputy, motioning to his men. "You just got yourself a nice time in the brig!"
Realizing that he was outnumbered and outgunned, the Elite deactivated his dagger, letting the police move in. Not only had the Sangheili lost Mitchel, but he also had no further opportunity to pursue David King. The Unggoy constable waddled to Grono's backside and flashed a pair of energy cuffs, while one of the human officers watched Mitchel walk to the Pelican.
As Mitchel entered the ship and made his way to the cockpit, he started up the systems and plopped down into the pilot's seat, grateful that he had escaped with his life. As the hangar's door began to open up and Mitchel flew the Pelican up, he spotted the officers escorting a handcuffed Grono 'Yendam away, with many citizens booing at him. Satisfied, Mitchel launched the dropship out of the airport and away from the city of Obsidion, finally safe.
Chapter 9
| 23 DECEMBER 2559
Location: OBSIDION, DRAWN
|
David raised the SRS-99 AM rifle off the window, folded up the tripod, and began disassembling the weapon quick and easy. This was usually how he liked to work just like any other sniper assassin. He set the pieces in a large suit-like case, closing it up and carrying it with him as he took the exits of the building that led to a flight of stairs. He casually made his way down the flight of stairs before pushing himself through another door on the lower level and entering the parking garage.
The parking garage was moderately sized with gray concrete walls fixed on all sides, suspended linear fixtures illuminated the parking garage in a shade of white while other newly replaced lights threw some blue into the mix. David's footsteps echoed throughout the place as he pulled out his chatter and pressed a button through one of the chatter's apps, alerting him that his car was nearby. He approached his car in a calm and collected manner, he knew nobody was looking for him in spite of a few stares he was given from employee's and other patrons entering and exiting the site, nor did he care at this moment, he had to make it to his buddy Craig before the day was over. He popped the trunk on the sedan and slid the case inside before closing the trunk. He walked to the driver side of the door and unlocked it before someone was eyeing him in the window: a reflection of a woman that looked not as nearly as dangerous as him but could have killed him right here, right now.
"Hands up, you make a move and you're a dead man." The woman said, her voice cold.
David turned around and gave the woman a look over, "Nice to see you, Haley. What are you doing here on Drawn?" He chuckled before giving his friend a hug, he then pulled away to hear what she had to say.
"Well, I know you can handle your own. I'm just sightseeing."
"Come on, right now it's dangerous and I can't waste time." He continued to open the driver door and gestured for Haley to enter the passenger, which she did.
David started up the car, putting the vehicle in reverse and backing out of the parking space, putting the vehicle in drive and accelerated smoothly, navigating his way through the parking structure and down a few ramps till he made it out the exit and turned left onto the main street. He was kinda in a rush but had to keep it under the speed limit, the last thing he wanted right now was a trail of cops behind him and some jail time. He continued down the main road for a mile or two before turning left and heading to a small restaurant, pulling alongside the curb and opening the passenger door.
"Haley. Look I am glad you're here and all, but it's not safe. I can't have to tag along, if my HVT finds you, he/she may kill you. Please," He pleaded with sympathy, he didn't want to see her get kidnapped or worse get killed.
"Where am I supposed to go, David?"
David gave her a piece of paper. "Follow the directions, make sure nobody is tailing you, there will be a chatter in the side table, call the number in the contacts then destroy the chatter. Help will arrive to escort you off the planet." As she was about to exit, David grabbed her wrist and looked at her with cold eyes. "I know you're an assassin and all, but I wouldn't want to lose you; you're one of my best friends."
She nodded, closing the door and heading off, following the directions on the note.
David pulled away from the curb and make a quick legal U-turn, then made a quick left at the light, heading south toward his target location, the "initial meeting spot" was what he called it. Once at the key location, he parked across the street and put the car in park. Everything about the car was off the grid: Plates, registration, the color scheme. He made sure that nobody would be able to track his movements. He was after all a citizen of Drawn. His papers forged to blend in with the scum of this planet.
He took out a pair of binoculars, scoping out the building like a natural predator. Nobody around that looked suspicious to him. His photographic memory kicked in during the time he looked through the scope of his sniper, revealing two key individuals, one harder to make out than the other: A man wearing white and black armor with a black cross on the chest plate and a black stripe that ran through the center of the helmet. The other was a tall Sangheili clad in gold armor: a mercenary of sorts he guessed, a good bit taller than the average eight-foot split-face. He took out his datapad and began to sketch out the two individuals, adding the names Mitchel to the armored-spartan one and unknown Split-face next to the other. He swapped the color tool for red and painted a crosshair on the Sangheili, doodling a blood splatter for laughs before switching back to the pencil tool. He raised the binoculars, spying on the interior of the lobby, the place seemed to still be in operating hours as mixed species entered and exited the building. David's eye's narrowed in anger, he was disgusted by the sight of the creatures who worked with the Covenant that were now seemed to be living in harmony with the humans. He focused his attention to the receptionist before dropping the binoculars and sketching her in the datapad.
Hmmm, yes, you will be the first to go. He took a mental note before saving the information to a USB drive and locking the datapad in the glove compartment. He accelerated slowly, pulling away from the curb, turning into a parking lot, and parking. He took out a small collar-like device and fixed it to his neck, the device projecting a new holographic face over his old one. The face resembling of the man he assassinated in his sleep, his features were striking but not conspicuously handsome. His hair was wiry and gingerish and brushed backward from the temples. His skin seemed to be pulled backward from the nose. The true resemblance of a son-of-a-bitch that deserved death. He could not dwell on the disguise, it was his ticket in to speak with his long time friend after all. He exited the vehicle and pulled out his chatter, locking the doors and setting the tint from thirty to one-hundred percent, the glass windows now black as darkness. He walked casually across the street, looking both ways and avoiding any oncoming traffic getting closer to the building. As he entered the building, blending in with the small busy crowd, he approached the receptionist, his new face and identity unrecognizable from the nearby surveillance equipment.
"Good afternoon ma'am. I'm here to speak with Kyle Craig. Is he in? I'm a friend of his, Jack Watkins."
Chapter 10
| 23 DECEMBER 2559
Location: OBSIDION, DRAWN
|
A figure walked through the slums of New Tyne, the capital city and most prominent settlement on Venezia. Wearing his Sangheili-style armor, the Red Blaze hadn't bothered with a disguise in this place. Venezia was home to his prime employers, a Sangheili-run criminal empire known as the Flame, that had built itself up from a lowly street gang to a powerful faction. Aligning themselves with the Order of Assassins, they had graciously accepted the Red Blaze as a recruit. Of course, their stronghold, the Burning Keep, wasn't located here. It would be too vulnerable. However, quite a few of their enforcers kept up work here, so the Red Blaze knew he was in good hands.
Having gotten a lead earlier from one of the Flame's Sangheili enforcers, he had found his way here, to a broken down tavern at the edge of the civilized parts of the city. Pushing open the creaking door, he cautiously made his way inside, fully aware of the many drunks and criminals that would be eager for a fight. Spotting his lead at a table close to the entrance, the Red Blaze hurried over, sitting down and assessing the man in front of him; wearing a bright blue military BDU definitely meant for style rather than effectiveness, as well as a young pale face with a thin layer of stubble.
The man took a long, hard look at the Red Blaze and swigged down the last of a beer bottle next to him. He then set the bottle down and spoke, "You looking for someone, Sangheili-Boy? You're disguise ain't foolin' me. I've had enough experience with the Flame to know who's a Sangheili and who's not."
The Red Blaze didn't seem bothered by the comment. His helmet made a hiss and he removed it. His face looked as though it had been taken to pieces and put back together again by a child with only a vague knowledge of the human form. There were a dozen scars on his neck and around his cheeks... "So you're not the only one who knows of who I am and what I do." He let out a snort, a sign of irritation but also the feeling of defeat. He took a seat. "One reason why I wear this Sangheili helmet. I feel as though I lost all sense of purpose to be even called human." He set the helmet down on the table as he let out a sigh. "But I still follow the Flames goals of burning down their enemies with a fiery passion. The flames will consume my enemies. The Flame's empire growing stronger with every victory."
The man chuckled. "So you're with the Flame, eh? I can't respect people like that, but I can certainly give them credit for what they do. So, why you come here? Looking for a job from me?"
Blaze pulled out a datapad and opened the files with images and a bio of the man known as David King. He slid it over to the man across from him so he could get a read on the information. "I'm hunting this man, you know him? Maybe have a tip on where he's hiding?"
The man took the pad and looked it over. After he was finished, he set it down. "I might. But I don't work for free, you know."
Blaze sighed, weighing his options. He could pay the man and not get any helpful information, or he could walk out right now seeing this as a wasted time, maybe even a wasted opportunity, as he had details in the datapad pointing to a lead to where King traveled, but that may not even be enough, as things could change. This new opportunity could shed some light on his current predicament and no doubt that he would be a few steps ahead in the competition. "How much you looking for? I might be able to make some arrangements with my current employer to do a credit transfer if the information is extremely valuable."
"I wouldn't say much. Roughly a thousand."
Blaze nodded. "Let me make the call." He pulled out his chatter, dialing the receptionist, who put him on hold for awhile before transferring him to Craig. The two had a small discussion about the the situation. Craig seemed tense on the other line, something that Red Blaze thought was awkward of him, but the credits would be transferred in seconds. He held the receiver.
"Anything else?"
"Nope."
The man grinned. "Jackson Kut, at your service. If there's anything I do know, it's that David King is a man that stays on the move. From my... sources, the man you're looking for is located in a small town on the outskirts of Drawn, near the Lithis desert. He's been hiding there for a bit."
Red Blaze put the notes in his datapad and marked coordinates on it, before feeding it into his helmet's HUD. "Perfect." He leaned in a bit. "Why aren't you in this shenanigan? It's a large bounty and my employer could get all the help he needs."
"I'd rather not get killed. My boss wouldn't like it if I did. And I've got my own bounty to capture." Kut stood up, taking a helmet from next to him. It resembled the Gen 2 Rogue helm used by Spartan IVs, and Jackson put it on over his head, resembling a miniature version of one.
"I appreciate the information." Blaze got up and put on his own helmet, the map with coordinates appearing on his HUD. His voice scrambler now gave off a more robotic tone. "I must depart, time is of the essence and my employer seems distressed." He pinged the assassins on Drawn, sending out a distress signal to check on Craig.
As the two prepared to leave, a man with a scar running across his pudgy face stood up and blocked their way. "Hey, you two! You discussing something private? No one keeps secrets from me! This tavern belongs to Big John! I know everything around here!"
It was obvious from one look that was man was drunk, as he took out a knife. Two smaller, healthier-looking men stood up behind him, holding their fists up. "That's none of your business, John," Said Kut, easing towards the exit. "Now just let us go-"
He was interrupted as the fat man socked him in the visor, knocking his head back. Stumbling backwards, Kut sighed and picked up his beer bottle, smashing it into the table, breaking off the majority and leaving a sharp edge, perfect for cutting. "Guess it's gonna go down like this."
Blaze charged forward and threw a roundhouse kick at one of the healthier looking guys, sending him careening into the wall. This fight would turn into a brawl as more drunken people and aliens started to fight their own battles, cursing profanities about the war, what was fair and considered moral. Blaze attempted to throw a punch at the fat one, but his blow was absorbed and he was just knocked backed by the fat man's punch. He regained his balance and tried to go for a sweeping kick but his agile movement was far too slow. Six pairs of rough hands tried to seize him. Blaze's right shot out. With a little gurgle, and one of the men staggered backward to crumple in a table. A hulking Sangheili, leaping like a panther, landed on Blazes back. Dropping abruptly, Blaze executed a somersault, shook himself free and rose only to butt his head into the stomach of the strong Sangheili. Blaze found himself in a bear hug. He struggled against him, shooting his right leg out but his movements were far too slow. Hands moving from his waist, the Sangheili seized his arms, trapping them to his side. Blaze pushed the Sangheili into the wall, the agile gesture causing Blaze to stumble almost falling flat on his face as he was released from the grip.
Meanwhile, Kut grabbed a man, bashing his face in with the broken bottle before elbowing an Unggoy coming up behind him in the neck, knocking it to the ground. Kut then turned threw the bottle straight at Big John, slicing through his blubbery skin with the sharp points. The mercenary then punched a Kig-Yar in the face before sliding under a pair of brawlers, stopping at the squirming John.
"Looks like you just ran out of business," He said, punching the man so hard that his nose cracked. He then took out a handgun from his pocket and fire it into the ceiling, gaining everyone's attention.
"I'd recommend you let the Elite-Boy go before I blow out your brains, Split-Lip," Said Kut as he aimed at the Sangheili fighting the Red Blaze. Reluctantly, the saurian stepped back, and Kut walked over, helping the Blaze up. "I'd say we leave this joint before the authorities come," The mercenary whispered into the assassin's ear.
"Agreed." He gets his barrings together and heads out the door heading to where his dropship was located. Way too much activity on Venezia, but it was worth it for the information he now had. He turned to the hitman, "I appreciate you having my back, Jackson. Most of the time I would be fighting on my own and I would probably have died to that Sangheili."
"No problem. Just remember that Jackson Kut remembers those who do him favors."
As the Red Blaze entered his dropship, the mercenary turned away, walking into an alleyway. Taking out a datapad of his own, he swiped to call his contact. After waiting for a few seconds, the call was picked up. Speaking in an easy tone, Kut said, "David King, I have some news you might be interested to hear."
Chapter 11
| 23 DECEMBER 2559
Location: BUREAU OF CRIMINAL APPREHENSION, QUANTICO, VIRGINIA, UNRA, EARTH
|
In the Morning, newly appointed Special Agent Jason Miler has arrived at his assignment desk in Virginia. He has just completed his orientation and training. Since he moved from a major metropolitan city police department, he was not required to complete the normal six-month training for the job.
As he exits the elevator onto the floor, he sees rows and rows of desks with no separation. He was told that once he arrives, he would be able to find his desk with no problem. He had to walk down several rows before he found his assigned location. There was barely enough room to sit down at his desk and get the chair to roll under you, let alone move after you are seated.
After he finally located her position, buried in between other agents, he drops his suitcase at the desk that already had his nameplate and turned to meet the man whose desk is right beside him.
"Hello, I'm Jason Miller.” He extends his hand to the man who finally looks up from his seated position at the adjacent desk.
"Well! Good Morning Jason! "He says with a large amount of excitement in his voice "I am Robert. Robert Wellborn.” He gives a firm shake to his fellow agent. “Did you just get here? I mean to the unit?"
"Yes, I just finished my orientation yesterday and was ordered to report there today. I need to find a supervisor. Where's the boss' office so I can check in with him?"
Pointing toward a closed office on the opposite end of the floor, "The director is Andrew Cross, but he is not here this afternoon. You will have to meet with him on Thursday. But you still need to drop off your transfer papers with his assistant, June" He indicates a blond-haired woman sitting directly outside the closed office.
"Thanks" Jason responds as he turns to walk to the opposite end of the floor.
Arriving at the assistant’s office he knocks and enters, dropping off the transfer papers. The assistant looks through them and instructs Jason to head to the senior field agent’s office for his first assignment.
Jason left the assistants office and arrived at the senior field agent’s office, getting permission to enter as he was cleared to do so by the assistant. The office was plain and white as were most of the offices in the bureau. A bookshelf lined with encyclopedias and police manuals stood against the wall of the room along with some lovely décor of pictures and pottery. A man in his thirties dressed in suit and tie gave a beaming smile at the new arrival. A nameplate on his desk read Mark Young, Senior Field Agent.
"Jason Miller! Cross has been expecting you, but he is on business so I will school you in on your first assignment. Please have a seat." He gestures to one of the open seats across from him.
Jason took a seat, folding his hands on the desk and leaned in to show that he was attentive. "Alright Mark, what do you got for me."
Mark pulled out a datapad and read over it before handing it over to Jason to read the details as he continued, "Jason. Your reputation proceeds you. Taking on crime in the city of Los Angeles and saving a lot of lives. But now there is a much bigger threat. Word around the colonies is that Drawn was recently attacked by an Elite. We don’t know this Elites name or whereabouts but that is where you come in. So, I need you on the scene at the airfield to investigate a bombing. We need to know who exactly caused it, how and why. We are going to assign you a senior field agent to help you with the task, you will take orders from him." He continued in a straightforward tone, "I understand he is one tough cookie. Top agent in the department solving homicides. He is not afraid of anyone or anything. He faced some of the worst killers in a few colonies, including Venezia and never, ever backed down."
"Alright." Jason had a slight edge of nervousness to his voice, A Sangheili? His last battle with a Sangheili ended up in total failure with injuries that took several months to recover from.
Mark continued, reassuring Jason. "In fact, I understand that you barely survived a skirmish a couple years ago, you might consider working together." He pinged for the Alex, who arrived shortly within a few minutes.
"Special Agent Miller, this is Senior Field Agent Alex Mulroy."
Both exchanged pleasantries and handshakes before Alex took a seat adjusting his suit to get comfy.
Alex was a bit more laid back in his new position, and though his trip to the Department had been a long one, laid out with stereotypes and question inability, he too had proven himself as a worthy agent, even if he had a bit of a criminal record behind it. But in many ways, it was an asset. He knew leads, and he knew what questions to ask. And it was his leads that would help crack Miller's first case.
Mark continued as Jason looked over the information on the datapad. There was a lot to soak in, "You will be working with Drawn’s police forces as well as the Office of Naval Intelligence. Our sources also say that there is something else happening something big. If you can find out and try to apprehend all involving parties that would be a real peacekeeping solution."
"You can count on us, sir!" Alex said looking up from the datapad.
Mark gave a small relaxed smile and said, "I know I can. You figure out this mess and bring the suspects to Midnight Facility, and we'll keep this place nice and clean for your return. June’s got some more details for your case down below. Once you get it, get your things ready and head for the spaceport."
"We're leaving already?" Jason asked.
"Of course. Drawn is a long flight with slip space travel...and let's not forget that by the time you get there...people will be starting their day."
"Then we'll be off." Alex gave a nod.
"Do us proud you two." Mark said, "And rest well...it's a long flight."
