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The Tau Chi Incident by Myth
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Tau Chi II: Ch. 1 - Arrival
Date: 30 December 2008, 7:54 am
Tau Chi II, Centauri System
Battle Group Cerberus
Aboard: UNSCDF Cerberus
Attached Units:
3rd Battalion, 82nd Marines: ODST 'Hell Hounds'
3rd Battalion, 21st Marines: ODST 'Thunder Down Under'
Attached Wings:
336th Air Group
The torrent of unbidden information flashed across the screen every damned time he logged in. Lieutenant Jeremy Hale had not read the information message since his second day on duty aboard the UNSC Supercarrier Cerberus . The days had worn on into weeks without anything more exciting than a few minor drills to occupy his spare time.
Jeremy Hale was the Tactical Operations Officer of the Cerberus's 'A' crew, and when 'B' was on duty he was the laden with a plethora of menial duties assigned by a superior officer. He preferred to be at his TOO post, to save him from the more mundane tasks, though often found himself wishing for something around here to happen, and would quickly berate himself. Hale was by no means stupid, and he knew that boredom would be quite preferable to the Covenant's presence anywhere nearby.
The Operations Deck was set into the 'Pit' of the upper Command Deck, which served as the CIC, or Combat Information Center, where it shared the area with Intelligence, Flight Ops and Weapons. The lower Command Deck, or the NAV Deck was down a flight of stairs at the fore of the Bridge, and was home to Communications, Navigation and Field Command.
Glass panes surrounded the Pit with displays of multiple reports and information projected upon them. The Pit had four stations built into it, all of them devoted to Tactical Operations. Hale stood up and strode to one of the glass displays, stroking a fingertip across the projection, accessing a new file and closing the old one. The daily directive for ground forces sprung into place. Hale read these information messages thoroughly, no matter his level of interest.
Echo Platoon of the 21st Marines was to deploy to the anti-air battery outside of Chinhae-Taejon by 0400, and Kilo was scheduled to set on and fortify positions in the city center by the same timeframe. Hale checked the time by the clock set into the bulkhead above the display. 2315. It was strange being back in a system with a twenty-four hour rotary schedule after being away from them for so long. Hale had to rely on the clocks more regularly to balance his internal one.
Before he returned to his station he touched the screen to look over the rest of the Battle Group's deployment directives. San Diego was due to put down three platoons outside of Ostri, and Clarity was ferrying troops into Chinhae-Taejon to reinforce the artillery positions.
Hale stretched and sat down behind his station and again dismissed the flash message. The lieutenant quickly tapped into the Barracks COM channel and selected the 21st ODST's CO, Lieutenant Colonel Callahan.
Callahan's grizzled features filled his display a moment later, awaiting instructions. "Colonel, Echo and Kilo need to report to Hammer Wing for a ride planet-side, over."
"Affirm on that, Control. Echo and Kilo are headed dirt-side." Callahan replied and disappeared. Hale dismissed the Colonel's image and accessed the Special Projects folder. 'Special Projects' was dedicated to probable Covenant interests in the system.
The most obvious were the massive structures of alien manufacture on Tau Chi's southern pole. The structures were impenetrable, despite the workings of archaeologists and even a cursory effort from ONI.
The folder sprung up to fill the display. Three platoons from Eighty-Second to deploy to the planet's south pole. Holy shit. Hale thought as he brought up the Hell Hounds' roster, selecting three squads from the Special Operations pool. Major Andrey Kirilenko of the Eighty-Second appeared seconds afterwards, his countenance masked by the silver visor of his MK-IV helmet. The directive wanted him to deploy with his troops. Hale did not envy them, Marine deployments to the poles were horrible positions, radio contact was nil, and air support was nearly impossible to keep in place because of the irregular orbit patterns.
"Major Kirilenko, Alpha, Foxtrot and Juliet are to deploy to sector zero, zero." Hale reported. "And you are to accompany them, sir."
"Acknowledged, Command. 82nd is on it." The ODST officer replied, disappearing from the display.
Well, that was easy enough. He thought to himself, leaning back a little in his chair and placing his hands behind his head. The Pelican pilot escorting the 21st checked in with him a few minutes later, letting him know the Marines were aboard and heading down to Chinhae-Taejon to ready the city for a Covenant strike.
ONI had flashed their Group an emergency warning nearly a month ago regarding a Covenant Battle Group en route to engage, and they had been on high alert ever since. The Marines had the worst of it, Hale mused, for the first time appreciating being shuttled about by the whim of a Field Intel Officer, constantly worrying about the prospect of an alien warrior cooking you alive with white-hot bolts of plasma.
Hale shook the thought away and returned to his duties, toggling his display to the HUD of Hammer 3-9's pilot. The Pelican was soaring through the clouds over the sprawling metropolis that was Chinhae-Taejon. The city had been evacuated some weeks before, and now the surface bristled with anti-air batteries, anti-vehicle artillery and even a set of MAC guns aiming up into the sky.
The Pelican descended, low enough to fly in between the skyscrapers, and finally slowed to dispatch Echo platoon to the deck. Hale watched as the dark-clad Helljumpers scurried away under the D77H-TCI and into the battlements of the city center.
Hale emerged from the future battlefield below and looked around the bridge. Commander Connell was making his rounds, surveying the crew. Connell was the CO of 'A' crew, with Captain Brauer in command of 'B' and during combat operations. The CIC was quiet for the most part. Flight Ops was directing a wing of Sparrowhawks near Ostri, and Intel was chatting with the ONI lieutenant assigned to the deck.
Hale stood up and stepped up and out of the Pit and walked a few yards to the steps descending into the NAV Bridge. Multiple deck officers were pounding away at their keyboards, busy as could be. A large glass display pane dominated the fore of the deck that suddenly flashed red and projected an anomaly near Tau Chi II.
"Commander, we have a slipspace rupture in sector three-one-four." One of the NAV officers called.
Connell appeared nearby almost immediately. "General quarters! Ensign Peterson, get the Captain in here now," Connell said, standing in front of the Captain's Chair. "Lieutenant Cheng, have Clarity and Jester form up with us. Lieutenant Kahoka, arm our ARCHER pods. O'Neil, charge the MACs and give me a targeting solution on the first contact that comes out of that rupture."
The Carrier's four MAC guns began to charge simultaneously, and banks of ARCHER pods armed and emerged from their internal ordnance bays. The frigates Jester and Clarity took up positions on either side of the massive Cerberus and armed their own weapon systems.
Battle Group Isosceles was several thousand kilometers further along the orbital path, falling into formation to engage the enemy. Battle Group Cherokee was doing the same a few thousand behind. The distance might seem staggering for one standing on the surface, but in the vacuum, the three Battle Groups were essentially shoulder-to-shoulder.
Three more Battle Groups were in position outside of the planet's orbit, acting as the vanguard, and another three were on the far side of the planet, riding the orbital path. The strategy was to engage the Covenant with the vanguard Battle Groups, and provide support with the ones behind. When the vanguard had depleted its heavy rounds, they would withdraw into orbit and be sheltered to rearm, while the behind Battle Group moved forward, being replaced by the Groups on the far side moving into place.
The strategy had been developed by Admiral Preston Cole to preserve UNSC ships from the constant beating of battle, bringing fresh forces to the front for the longest amount of time possible. The strategy only worked, however, when you had as massive of a Defense Group as the one protecting Tau Chi. Even now, if they lost too many ships in the opening engagements, they would need every ship at the front, loaded or not.
Cerberus would stay on station for most of the battle, allowing the Fleet four squadrons of Longsword Interceptors, along with a base of operations for the other ships' Longsword contingents to refuel and rearm.
Hale tapped furiously away at his console, accessing a flurry of documents that allowed him to make his own deployments and send information to his fellow tactical officers. Lieutenant Commander Eli Sadie was the commanding officer for TACOPS, and Hale forwarded the deployment schedules for the Marine Contingents aboard directly to him. The Commander would then dispatch squads to vital areas of the ship to repel the possibility of boarders, and send any reserves to reinforce the shorter-handed frigates in the rest of the Battle Group.
"Multiple hull transients within the rupture, unknown classification…I'll know soon…" Lieutenant Arden from NAV reported.
Brauer strode onto the deck, catching the last of his report. "Soon might not be good enough, Lieutenant." The Captain said calmly. Connell withdrew to TACOPS to co-direct troop deployment with Commander Sadie.
"There they are! Okay, I've got the vanguard coming through, six CPV-class cruisers, with a pair of CCSs to back them up." Arden finished, gulping hard at the last of his report. "Probable battle group of CCS and what looks like a Carrier too."
"Okay, Lieutenant O'Neil, Kahoka, when we are in range, open up on the bastards." Brauer ordered crisply, turning to a bank of monitors to assess the Fleet's actions. "Silas, where are you?"
"Here, my Captain." The holograph sprung to life over the pedestal, garbed in elaborate Byzantine armor, complete with a short sword buckled at his waist. "How may I be of service?"
"I want you to manage Group Deployment until I relieve you." Brauer ordered to the AI.
"Of course, Captain. I would be honored." Silas said, saluting with a fist over his heart. The image shimmered and dissolved. A moment later Silas's voice blared through the FLEETCOM channel, deploying each Battle Group to their appropriate positions.
Brauer turned to the central view port of the NAV Bridge, clasping his hands at the small of his back.
"Shit! Another contact coming in at sector three-three-nine." Arden cried, three-three-nine was basically right on top of them. "CCS-class."
"O'Neil!" Brauer barked.
Multiple small contacts streamed from the cruiser towards the surface of Tau Chi, Phantom-class troopships, racing out of range of the Cerberus 's point lasers. The MAC guns flared to life and fired, obliterating the shielding around the cruiser with the first round, leaving the second and third to essentially turn the cruiser inside out.
MAC guns were the only advantage the UNSC had against the Covenant at close range. The kinetic rounds could charge faster than the plasma weapons, and moved faster than the Covenant's torpedoes.
The husk of the CCS sunk into orbit alongside the UNSC defenders and broke apart to burn up in the atmosphere. "Report!" Brauer ordered.
"Single contact…nothing else." Arden said, puzzled.
"What about those Phantoms?" Brauer inquired.
"Dropships trajectory roughly matched our latest deployment to the surface, the South Pole." Arden said. "Wing 2-6 followed them down."
"They sacrificed a cruiser to get troops on the ground fast…whatever it is down there, they think it's important. Tell Major Kirilenko that I want that Covenant battalion under wraps, immediately."
Sadie replied an affirmative and rapidly contacted the ODST officer headed for the pole. Hale watched as the glass projection pane filled with a Pelican troopbay, filled with ODST Spec Ops troopers, clad in white body armor as opposed to their usual black.
"Yes sir, ETA to LZ is still about an hour, we're moving as fast as we can." Kirilenko said into his mic, his voice muffled by the roar of the Pelican's engines.
"Stay safe down there, Marines." Sadie added, terminating the transmission.
"Vanguard groups are engaging the Covenant frontlines, Captain Archam is requesting a Wing Group to support his frigates…" Arden notified Brauer.
"Give him the Wings, and have Clarity form up behind them for fire support." Brauer ordered.
The battle began to unfold before their eyes as the UNSC vanguard units and their Covenant counterparts engaged in the vacuum. Golden flashes of MAC cannon muzzle blasts illuminated space, countered by icy blue plasma lances that bathed it in an eerie light.
One of Archam's frigates, the Shaken, Not Stirred , was gutted by a plasma torpedo from bow to stern, subsequently disappearing in a blinding flash as the engines exploded. Clarity moved in to replace her, firing a MAC salvo into the hull of an advancing CCS.
"What's the charge on our MAC batteries, O'Neil?" Brauer asked.
"Charged and ready, sir."
"Factor four targets and fire, contact Clarity and have her finish off our hits." Brauer dictated.
The MAC rounds thundered out of the four massive barrels, each directed towards separate Covenant capital ships. The two nearest CPVs were locked in combat with the Maximilian , Archam's destroyer. The ships' shields were already damaged from the Max 's own pair of MAC guns. The Cerberus 's kinetic rounds hit each within a minute of each other, ripping through the first's command deck, and the second's engine room. Both cruisers tore themselves apart with a chain of explosions from within.
The third round missed the CCS contact, narrowly missing another CPV cruiser moving in behind it. The fourth round slammed into the nose of a support ship, killing its shields and crumpling its prow.
Clarity banked into position and showered the support ship with ARCHER missiles. The guided munitions shredded the ship's thinner, membranous plating, crippling the craft for a Longsword Wing to finish off.
"MACs are down and charging…it'll be awhile." O'Neil reported, switching his tasks to manage the point defense turrets.
"Covenant frontline group is down for the count, Skipper." Arden said, not looking up from his station. "Battle Group Maximilian if falling back into orbit with Watchtower …Battle Group St. Peter is gone…"
"Alright, bring us into position with Isosceles and Cherokee to engage." Brauer directed. "Take two of our Longsword Wings and reassign them to Max to give them a little extra cushion."
"Sadie, how are our—"
A deafening blast tore through the TAC Bridge, tearing a hole in the forward view port, shattering one of the glass panes above Hale's head. Commander Connell disappeared in a flash along with a pair of ensigns and Lieutenant Kahoka.
Screams pierced the air around him as Hale struggled for breath. Alerts flashed across every display in the Bridge. Atmospheric doors slid down to cover the breach. Atmosphere flooded into the chamber to replace the oxygen levels that had plummeted when the breach opened.
The chamber stabilized and Hale struggled to his feet. Klaxons blared deafeningly, coupled with the sickening cries of the dying.
Brauer's voice cut through the carnage. "What the hell was that?"
Arden coughed violently and struggled up from the deck to answer his commanding officer. "…Covenant stealth corvette, fired a pulse laser through the CIC… Clarity and Jester took her out…"
"Damage report, Connell!" Brauer shouted upstairs.
"Connell's dead, Captain." Hale replied. "So is half the crew up here…"
"Shit. Sadie, are you alive?"
"Aye, sir...barely." Sadie replied, clutching a bleeding forehead.
"How are we doing, Lieutenant Kim?" Brauer asked another Ops officer.
"Minimal damage, sir. It appears the Covenant were willing to sacrifice another ship to take us out. A small blast directly through the Bridge…designed to cripple…" She reported, studying the Covenant's tactics.
"Give me a systems analysis from every station."
"Communications is green."
"TACOPS is hit hard, lost stations two and four."
"Kahoka at Weapons is dead, rest of us are green."
"NAV is green."
"Flight Ops is green." The various Bridge officers reported respectively.
"Alright, get Medical in here to see to the wounded, and pull replacements for the injured and dead from 'B'."
"On it, Captain." An Ops officer answered, leaving the Bridge.
Hale looked down at his display, finding a shard of metal protruding from the center of the screen. He swore and pushed away from the table, moving towards the intact glass pane display, touching the pane with bloodied fingertips, bringing up his login information. He let the computer scan his palm and his display directives sprung up onto the pane.
The communications lines to every team on the ground had been cut when the pulse laser had fried the TACCOM lines in station four. The Marines on the ground would be getting no intelligence from above, and no support if they ran into something heavy.
"Captain Brauer, reports coming in of Covenant stealth ships just hit every command ship in the fleet… Cherokee took a bad hit… Isosceles got the jump on theirs and cooked it before it did them…but we don't know about the other Battle Groups yet…probably not good." Arden reported.
"Hit and run tactics from the Covenant? What the hell is going on?" Brauer asked no one in particular.
"Its like they're in a hurry…they take out the command vessels and then move on to the surface." Arden mused. "Whatever's down there…they don't even want to wait around to deal with us…"
Tau Chi II: Ch. 2 - Confession's Price
Date: 6 January 2009, 7:40 am
Covenant Battle Group: Prophet's Blade
Aboard the Confession's Price
Near Centauri III: Overlooking the Tau Chi engagement.
Sangheili were law aboard Covenant warships, the Hierarchs affirmed that. He thought. But these Brutes are becoming a problem that cannot be ignored. The Chieftain's brash decisions and naval combat stupidity would be the end of this offensive. But perhaps if their leadership was replaced...
Supreme Commander Sarkmere Talom'ee stood as a perfect specimen of the Sangheili Warrior. The Jiralhanae Chieftain stood across from him in the Jiralhanae District of the Confession's Price . The court was primitive and repulsive to the Sangheili Officer, but he had decided that to win leadership of the Confession's Price on the Jiralhanae terms would ease his path to dominance.
Chieftain Karkanus was an impressive spectacle to any but the proud Sangheili. The Brute's arms rippled with muscle, his armor made up from possessions of previous, now deceased Jiralhanae chieftains. The Jiralhanae held a massive hammer with a flat head, mounted on a two-meter long haft.
Sark growled quietly and let his robes fall to the ground, revealing his own resplendent golden armor. He held a device in each hand, one was his blade, The Unforgiving, the second was a point defense gauntlet, or a shield of sorts. He activated both, the shield flaring outward into a wide disk, and The Unforgiving leaping out from the emitter plate in its icy-blue glory. The challenge was now made clear.
Karkanus unleashed a throaty cackle and charged with hammer raised. Sark deftly stepped around the first blow; the hammer's head slamming into the deck plates, buckling them.
Karkanus lifted the hammer slowly, readying another mighty stroke. Sark advanced, slamming into the Brute's exposed snout with the shield, scalding the sensitive skin of his face. Karkanus roared in rage, throwing himself upon the Sangheili. The weight of the Brute might have crushed a lesser warrior. The Jiralhanae Chieftain was old and hot headed, leaving his next hasty hammer fall to throw his balance, allowing the Sangheili to display his swordsmanship. The Unforgiving whipped past the haft of the hammer and sliced deep into the Brute's upper arm, exposing the musculature and bone.
He cried out again and faltered. "Unworthy." Sark said, loudly enough for the observers of the spectacle to hear. "You dishonor your race with your spilt blood, Karkanus."
Sark swept again with the blade, but was parried by the haft of Karkanus's hammer. The counter attack missed him by inches, but again left the Brute Chieftain exposed. Sark advanced slowly, sweeping the blade across the Jiralhanae's abdomen, spilling his blood across the floor of the court.
Karkanus sank to his knees as more of his life-fluid poured from his open maw. "Relinquish your command to me, Karkanus. I have followed your customs and proven you unworthy of Chieftain."
"…I…submit, Sangheili." Karkanus growled, his hands grasping at the intestines slipping out of his exposed body.
"Excellent." With a flick of his wrist, Sark's saber flew through the Jiralhanae's throat, severing the head. The Jiralhanae spectators kept their eyes on the fallen head of their former Chieftain. "Do the Jiralhanae accept me as their new Chieftain?" Sark understood this was as crucial a part to the custom; he could easily be challenged again here.
He was answered with a collection of feral growls as two more of the beasts charged him, without weapons. Sark nearly laughed, the first was impaled on The Unforgiving, falling to the court floor with his former master, the second swung at him with a thick arm. Sark ducked the blow and slashed his chest for the trouble. The Brute stood for a moment longer, staring at his wounds. Sark snarled impatiently and lunged forward, the tip of the blade emerging from the Brute's back. The creature subsequently collapsed to the deck, now slick with Jiralhanae blood.
"Your dishonor stains the very floors of your court! Submit to me as Chieftain or bare your necks to me that I may cleanse your unworthy race from the decks of my ship!" Sark cried, brandishing The Unforgiving in the air, causing it to crackle ominously.
Only one more advanced, Tarkus, the nephew of Karkanus, who died at the hand of his uncle's killer, just like the rest. The Sangheili warrior growled in response to the Brute's indecision. He had had enough.
"I grow tired of this. Kaln…kill them all." His Special Operations Commander nodded and drew his plasma rifle; his lance of black-clad Sangheili did the same and opened fire.
Most of the Jiralhanae had not been wearing their armor. The withering sheet of plasma-fire cut down every Brute in the court in seconds, leaving them charred corpses. Commands flew through the ship to perform similar tasks towards any Jiralhanae onboard. If they would not bow, they would be cleansed.
It was over quickly. Sark exhaled and withdrew his weapons, looking over the genocide he and his soldiers had just committed. The Hierarchs would understand, of course.
One problem was now dealt with. He regretted that the Jiralhanae had not simply accepted his leadership from a diplomatic point of view, but relished the carnage. Like he had said before, the Hierarchs would understand…
Kaln approached him, flicking a spot of dark Jiralhanae blood from his armor. "A word, Excellency?" Commander Kaln Kadan'ee requested, replacing his weapon within the folds of his own robes.
Sark nodded turned to leave the bloodied Jiralhanae Court; he would likely have the district burned at the first opportunity. They watched as a pair of Kaln's Elites executed the last of the Jiralhanae throughout the ship's corridors. It would be presented as a mutiny to the council, so that Talom'ee would not blatantly portray his racism towards the Brutes.
Sark spoke first. "Seven ships from my command, Kaln. Karkanus sent hundreds to die with his pitiful attempt at crippling their command vessels…the fool should have known that the humans are resourceful, when their leaders are struck down, more rise to take their place. And we were forced to land valuable troops on the surface before the orbital path was secure! They forced my hand, Kaln."
"I do not question your decision, Excellency. But there is a new matter that requires our attention. We have lost contact with Fasa'ee and his legion…we do not believe it was the work of the humans…by the time they had landed their own forces…we had already lost ours."
"How can that be? The relic revealed this location to be a great cache of Forerunner artifacts…" Sark mused worriedly.
"Perhaps the Hierarchs misinterpreted…"
Sark smiled. "You are fortunate you are among friends, Kaln. Sangheili have died for less."
"Apologies, Commander." Kaln acknowledged, with little in the way of regret. "Allow me to take the K'Tano Legion to the site and shed light on this mystery."
They had reached the Command Deck now, where more Jiralhanae corpses were being removed from their stations by Sangheili replacements. Sark turned and looked him in the eyes. "I believe that can be arranged, but not yet. I will not allow more Sangheili to die needlessly due to carelessness. Whatever the Hierarchs need on the planet's surface can wait until the human fleet burned away." Sark said with definite finality. The Elite gathered his robes about himself and took his place on the Command platform to oversee the work of his subordinates.
The Jiralhanae had had their command, as the Hierarchs had requested, and been found unworthy. Karkanus's tactics might have performed well on the battlefield, facing human warriors, but their ships were not to be trifled with. And his were not to be thrown away. This engagement would be over quickly and decisively, without the sacrifice of the Covenant's warships.
"Move us into an assault vector. Let us burn away their impurities without further ado." The Commander ordered the navigation and weapons officers. The Prophet's Blade battle group slid into formation with the vanguard vessels and went about carrying out their commander's wishes.
Tau Chi II: Ch. 3 - Extraction
Date: 8 January 2009, 3:57 am
Tau Chi II, Centauri System
Aboard UNSCDF Cerberus
Hale had finally devised a way to staunch the flow of information concerning attached units and friendly ships within the group. With such trivial data confined Silas's databases, he could focus on his own tasks.
Jeremy Hale had not yet left his station since the Covenant had blasted away half the CIC, leaving half of 'A' crew dead or bleeding. The lieutenant had been close with his team, and avoided leaving his station for fear of the realization of their deaths to hit him when he was needed most.
His bloodied palm left a crimson smudge on the glass pane display, now his new station due to the destruction of his previous console. He quickly forwarded the management of the 21st Marines on the deck to Commander Sadie, choosing to direct the 82nd himself.
Instantly the faces of every man deployed on the surface from Alpha, Foxtrot and Juliet platoons of the 82nd ODST Marines appeared in tiny boxes, punctuated by the visages of their squad leaders in larger portraits. Each face was tagged with the characters SOP and minuscule biometrics displays. SOP stood for Special Operations Pool, or the Marines with combat experience in ONI operations or Special Forces backgrounds.
The uplink to the squads on the surface had been severed during the blast, and would take time to update. The TACCOM system had lost its connection with the soldiers' personal HUDs and would have to relay through the communications outposts or the Pelicans on station to reestablish. There was no limit to how much time that could take.
Hale slammed a fist against the bulkhead, bruising his hand. He had been the one to select the squads and platoons assigned to go to the surface, and now he had abandoned them. The display was unaffected, and continued to flash the alert CANNOT CONNECT.
The rest of the Bridge seemed to rush back towards him like a freight train, due to the absence of the distraction of his work. People were crying out alerts and asking for orders, others were madly reporting the sudden loss of ships in other Battle Groups, asking desperately why the Covenant had sudden grown so much more adept than they had been only moments before.
Another blast rocked the ship, something big, by the feel of it. Arden was the first to speak. "Holy shit. Captain, Clarity's gone! No escape pods detected."
"Damn it!" Brauer swore. "Bring Wing 4-9 and 6-0 in to cover our starboard, and bring Jester up above us." The Captain barked as the NAV crew hurried to follow orders.
A cool voice broke through the carnage around him. "You asked for me, Lieutenant Hale?" It was Silas, the armored Praetorian artificial intelligence.
"Finally. Yes, Silas, I need to reestablish contact with my teams on the ground, the…uh…Eighty-Second Marines: Juliet, Alpha and Foxtrot." Hale replied.
Silas touched a hand to his forehead and seemed to be concentrating on something. "Magnetic interference of the pole is masking their transponders…if they can establish a relay station at their position I can have it up in no time, but until then there's nothing we can do."
Hale swore. "Alright, Silas. Thank you." Silas clasped a fist to his chest and disappeared. Hale stared at the vacant holograph pedestal for a moment before returning to his task.
He stroked a fingertip over the pane, toggling the display from the Marine Unit to their pilots of the 336th Air Wing. Four D77H-TCI Pelican diagrams rotated into view, three of them marked as troop carriers, and the fourth labeled as CSAR, the Combat Search and Rescue bird. Each of the three shuttles was sub-labeled with their respective Marine detachments. Hale tapped the dropship labeled as ALPHA, encouraging the faces of Alpha Platoon to reappear, bracketed under their squad leader. Above that were the faces of a pair of pilots. Hale pressed the screen over the pilot's portrait, opening a channel to Hammer 5-0's Pelican.
The pilot's visage enlarged, as the connection went through. The picture became animated as it transformed into the live feed of the pilot circling the surface below. "Hammer 5-0, this is Command. Relay your current position and situation, over."
"Hammer Five here, Command. We're moving up into Southern Ostri now…will be within the Pesanga borders soon to refuel in Chinhae-Taejon."
"Alright, who's still on station over the eighty-second's drop zone?" Hale asked.
"Uh…hold on. Alright, I show Davies's bird still on station with Wolcott in the CSAR."
"Okay, Hammer Five, can you patch me into Wolcott on the CSAR? Our COMs are still fried up here."
"Sure thing, Command. Wolcott comin' up."
Another face jumped out of the collection towards him, and came to life as the connection went through. "What can I do for you, Command?" Lieutenant Gregory Wolcott asked, circling high above the frozen pole below.
"I need you to instruct the Marines to take a small COM station on the ridge above the alien structures in the Kai Sao Valley." Hale ordered.
"Wait one." Wolcott said, swapping to his SQUADCOM channel. "Alpha One, Alpha One, this is CSAR Hammer Six, please reply, over."
Static washed over Hale's end of the channel as the magnetic forces surrounding the pole interfered with his long-range COM devices.
The sound of shifting snow and the crunch of boots on the ice edged into the speakers as Alpha One established contact. "We got you, Hammer Six. This is Stormare from Alpha." At the mention of his name, the glass pane display fished out Ethan Stormare's portrait and matched it alongside Wolcott's.
"Alright, Gunny, I need you to move two klicks north and secure COM station I-04 and establish a relay to Command." Wolcott's garbled voice answered.
A pause. "…Wilco, Command. Second squad is heading to secure objective, we'll have the uplink up and running in ten minutes, tops." Gunnery Sergeant Stormare replied.
Another explosion rocked the Cerberus as another plasma blast glanced off her hull. Another collection of frenzied commands and replies as the ship banked away from an imploding Jester above them.
Arden and Silas were simultaneously feeding information to Brauer as the Captain directed replacements for his two slagged frigates. Maximilian was moving back into position, forming up with the Cerberus as a CCS moved into engage the pair.
Hale was forced to look back at his display, as the alert came through that the Alpha team had established their uplink. A loading screen flashed across the pane, frustrating Hale.
The loading finished, updating the information on each of the Marines on the ground. To his horror, Foxtrot Platoon's biometrics immediately flat-lined, tinting their faces with red light, indicating an entire platoon had been wiped out. In another minute, half of Juliet blinked to red. And a few seconds after that, three members from Alpha fell as well.
Amid the small explosions and general confusion inside the Bridge Hale furiously opened the COM channel and spoke into the mic. "Alpha One! Alpha One, this is Command, what the hell is going on down there?"
The blast of weapons' fire blared through the speaker. "…Command!....pha One…situa….ad…half the…." More of the staccato of automatic weapons drowned Stormare's voice. "Move back…all arou…gonna….need extract…SHIT!"
"Alpha One!" Hale toggled to Juliet's squad leader. "Juliet One, do you copy? Juliet One!" Hale swore angrily and switched back to Wolcott. "CSAR Hammer Six, this is Command, please respond, over."
"Roger that, Command, Hammer Four is on the deck, over! Repeat Hammer Four is down, we're moving in to recover survivors." came Wolcott's hasty reply.
"Covenant strength in the area?" Hale asked worriedly.
"…Negative, negative. There's no sign of Covenant Forces, just two downed Phantoms. Davies moved in to pickup the survivors of Juliet, when he got close, Juliet fired on Davies! The rockets knocked her on the deck without a chance for flying again."
"What the hell are you talking about?" Hale asked. "Why would they fire on their own evac?"
"It wasn't them sir. I don't know what the fuck they were…but they were wearing Juliet's armor and fired Juliet's weapons, and now Davies and Johnston are most likely dead."
"Negative, on Hammer Four's casevac, Wolcott. Move to COM I-04 and extract Alpha's second team."
"But sir!" Wolcott protested, his HUD illustrating the burning wreckage of Davies's Pelican on Hale's display.
"You said it yourself, Lieutenant, they're dead! Now move to I-04 and extract Alpha." Hale watched as dark forms scurried over the wreckage in the shapes of humans but moved like animals. What the hell was going on down there?
Hale was completely immersed in Wolcott's HUD. It felt as if he was piloting the dropship through the blizzard below. The Pelican sped away from the crash site and over the white clad landscape. Movement was everywhere on the pilot's motion tracers, painting the displays with dozens of red dots.
A squat concrete structure presented itself seconds later, illuminated by flashes of gunfire and explosions. Wolcott spun to face away from the structure and toggled his systems to the 20mm cannon slung under the Pelican's nose. The pilot guided the weapon with his helmet, simply sweeping his vision across the Marines' perimeter, strafing the line of macabre figures encroaching on the ODSTs fighting for their lives.
There were seven figures bearing FOF tags denoting friendly units that climbed to the roof of the building and ignited a pair of blue flares. Hale's display assigned them faces and serial numbers.
Wolcott guided the Pelican down while his copilot took command of the cannon, beating back waves of hostiles moving towards the LZ. The crew chief in the cabin shouted that everyone was aboard ten seconds later. Wolcott punched a key that slammed the atmospheric doors shut and fired the belly thrusters of the bird, clawing for altitude.
Alerts starting blinking on the control panels of the Pelican. "Rockets in the air!" The crew chief cried.
"Hold on!" Wolcott answered, yanking back the controls, swinging the Pelican around to present a smaller profile for the rockets. One of them sped by in open space, exploding harmlessly in midair. The second however erupted only a few feet from the starboard wing tip, throwing the Pelican violently to port, nearly bringing it down. Wolcott swung the other way to compensate, bringing the dropship back even.
Hale exhaled as Wolcott's bird soared away from the scene towards the mainland and Chinhae-Taejon. Then a greater worry reached his consciousness. What the hell had happened to the dozens of Covenant and Human combatants that been wiped out in a matter of minutes?
Hale toggled to the crew chief, Chief Petty Officer Warren's HUD to inspect the survivors. The display grew dim, and illustrated a half dozen or so white-clad Marines, sitting exhaustedly in the troopbay. Their helmets were removed, sitting in their laps or on the deck of the cabin. Their faces were bathed in sweat, disguising the tears that accompanied it. Hale had seen it a dozen times, and it made him feel as if someone had extracted the only hope left in him, and forced him to watch as they tore it into pieces. The ODSTs were the best of the best, the toughest of the tough, and here they were, their entire company wiped out before their eyes, stricken with grief.
Hale switched back to Wolcott's personal COM channel. "Lieutenant, I want you to redirect back to the Cerberus, we need to debrief the Marines on what happened on the surface." Hale ordered. Sadie heard his directive and turned around to looked at him.
"What the hell are you doing, Lieutenant?" The commander asked.
"Sir. Watch." With a string of tapped commands, the HUD recording of the extraction streamed to Sadie's screen, which kept him quiet.
When the clip finished, Sadie regarded him with a worried look that permitted his earlier order.
"Wilco, Command. Bringing the boys home." Wolcott replied.
"Alright, we'll drop a pair of Longswords to you."
"Acknowledged, Command. See you soon."
Tau Chi II: Ch. 4 - Genesis
Date: 10 January 2009, 8:33 am
Tau Chi II, Centauri System
Battle Group Prophet's Blade
Aboard: Confession's Price
Sarkmere Talom'ee gazed sullenly at the dilapidated hanger bay of the Confession's Price. A human capital ship had put two of their kinetic rounds directly through his shields, leaving the heavy slugs to collapse two entire sections of the central launch bay. He had left the Bridge to inspect the damage for himself with Commander Kadan'ee at his side.
Dozens of Covenant soldiers lay strewn about the bloodied deck, torn apart by the internal explosions of the countless shuttles destroyed by the humans' precision firing. Sark stared at the limp form of one of his brightest lieutenants; the Sangheili's intestines spilling out due the absence of the warrior's lower half.
Only a fraction of the carrier's hanger bay was operational, nearly crippling the support craft for its main purpose. Sark seethed with hidden anguish, and burned with unexpressed anger. Under his command the Prophet's Blade had obliterated four entire human battle groups, in addition to crippling several others, only to have them wound his flagship in their death throes.
Only five UNSC capital ships remained intact, among them the human supercarrier that had perforated his ship's defenses. An unforeseen amount of the humans' interceptor craft had limited his abilities to board the enemy ships effectively, and thus allowed the surviving vessels to retreat to the far side of the planet.
Sark had withheld his forces from pursuing them, instead electing to allow the orbital path to deliver them back to him when his fleet had regrouped and rearmed. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and sighed loud enough for Kaln to detect. The Special Operations Commander turned to address him.
Sark spoke first. "It is an alarming reminder." The Sangheili officer said quietly.
"What would that be, Supreme Commander?" Kaln asked, puzzled at Sark's chosen reaction to the carnage.
"That a race so seemingly weak and barbaric can inflict this measure of destruction upon the most powerful and technologically advanced war machine in the galaxy." Sark had not lifted his gaze from the mutilated corpse of the Elite lying at his feet.
Kaln looked to consider saying something, and after a moment of thought, committed to it. "...The Prophets feed us fallacies that the humans crumple beneath the might of the Covenant, withering before the blast of holy fire…refusing to defend themselves, willingly baring their necks to our swords so that they may be cleansed…
"Tell that to the thousands of our own lying dead on the dozens of worlds that the humans have fought defending to the last man…they are the greatest adversary the Covenant has encountered in its history, a united front of the brightest races of the galaxy are held at bay by a single species dealing losses upon us that are not matched even by the Sangheili-San'Shyuum Wars." Kaln looked away from his comrade bashfully. "Forgive my tongue, Excellency. Every Sangheili lost, is a loss felt, and a friend lost…"
"I understand perfectly, Kaln. Such motivations drove me to commit the atrocities against the Jiralhanae aboard my decks." A glimpse of regret painted the expressions of Sark's face. "I fear that with Tartarus's rise to power within the Hierarchy of our Covenant…that perhaps my actions were…injudicious."
"…I agree, Commander. With the Jiralhanae gaining positions of power, the murder of their soldiers under our orders may cause us grief in the near future. Despite my views of the Hierarchs and their ambitions, they are our ruling body, and defying them may very well mean death."
"Politics will have to await our return to High Charity. We will finish the humans in this system and report to Imperial Admiral 'Jar Wattinr'ee's summons." Sark answered, storing his worries concerning the Covenant for later examination.
"What did the Imperial Admiral ask?" Kaln asked. Xytan 'Jar Wattinr'ee, the commander of Sangheili Forces within the Covenant since the death of Tal Xanar'ee in the closing months of the 29th Age of Doubt.
"Apparently Supreme Commander Vadam'ee of the Particular Justice is standing trial for high crimes against the Covenant, and 'Jar Wattinr'ee wanted his fleet masters present for the council."
"So it begins…"
Aboard: UNSCDF Cerberus
Combat Information Center, TAC Bridge
Jeremy Hale clutched the edges of the terminal before him, gasping to replenish the air lost from his most recent fall to the deck. He tasted the metallic consistency of blood. He spat the crimson fluid to the deck and smeared it with his boot.
A Covenant boarding craft had just slammed into the hull only a few meters above the Bridge view port. The result resembled a child picking up a toy and shaking it for all he's worth. Klaxons deafened him. More boarding ships had pursued them into the orbital path that carried them away from the Covenant dreadnoughts, with the intention of dispatching troops to gut the ships from the inside.
Hale reached under the desk of his shattered console to a holster plastered to the underside of the station. He removed the sheathed pistol and strapped the device to his hip. The naval officer removed the M6C, dragging back the slid until it clicked sharply. He replaced the firearm and recovered a pair of twelve round magazines as well, clipping them to his belt.
Hale opened a small cabinet and retrieved a D-DACT device. A Dismounted Data Automated Communications Terminal that would allow him to perform his duties away from his station. He synced the PDA with his display and stepped up, out of the Pit.
Marines were barricading positions outside the Bridge entry points, overturning tables and dragging ballistic shielding into place. Hale ran past them, encountering throngs of similar groups performing identical duties. He traveled two decks up, and turned down a starboard corridor that released him near an Operations Room on the sixth deck.
The room was set adjacent to the Marine Barracks and only a few dozen yards from the launch bays and armories. Several logistics officers sat behind terminals here, managing the small scale necessities of a ship as large as the Cerberus. A weapons locker was set into the far wall, its shield raised, revealing two BR55HB rifles lying in their casing.
A long table ran the length of the room, littered with ballistic helmets and web gear belonging to the officers working the stations, their weapons, however, were nearby, strapped away under their shoulders.
Hale's D-DACT beeped impatiently as his system forwarded him information. The message pertained to the names of the survivors of the Kai Sao operation.
O-3 HALE, J.
CONCERNING: Surviving members of surface team.
3rd Battalion: 82nd Orbital Drop Marines
FOXTROT: KIA
JULIET: KIA
ALPHA:
Marine C306: E-7 Stormare, Ethan J.
Marine E402: E-4 Holland, Andrew A.
Marine E436: O-3 Bradley, Liam J.
Marine B501: E-2 Hartley, Ryan A.
Marine C203: E-2 Hayes, Darren C.
Marine G107: E-3 Jones, Connor K.
Marine B190: E-2 Sucre, Diego E.
Marine C447: E-4 Chavez, Jonathon E. KIA
Marine E129: E-2 Dominic, William G. KIA
Marine G678: O-1 Canfield, Walter H. KIA
/END FILE
Hale looked up from the display as the survivors filed into the operations room. Captain Bradley led the column, his pearl white ballistic armor blackened with grime. A battle-scarred helmet resided in the crook of his left arm.
The others followed him in, adorned identically to Bradley, each of them smeared with the crimson blood of their dead teammates. Wolcott entered a few seconds later, removing his flight gear. The Marines sat around the table and looked expectantly at the Tactical Operations Officer.
"Captain Bradley, before we get started, I want you to know that I'm sorry for the loss of your men…" Hale said awkwardly.
"Yeah. Lieutenant, if you could?" Bradley urged.
"...What the hell happened down there?" Hale asked, as much out of curiosity, as it was his duty to be there.
Bradley let out a long sigh as he turned towards Stormare. "…The thing is Lieutenant, is that we don't really know what the fuck happened. Canfield had first squad, over near the structures in Kai Sao." Bradley paused and gestured at his gunnery sergeant. "Stormare's the only one that came back from first."
"Sergeant?" Hale asked the younger Marine.
Stormare looked up to regard the Operations Officer. Hale recognized the voice as the Marine shouting over the COM as his squad died around him. "We didn't go in with Foxtrot and Juliet, Kirilenko had us watch the entrance. The COM went nuts, and we heard gunfire and screams. Kosov from Juliet came out, along with another couple guys, the Major too. Something was right on their tails though…fuckin' cut them to pieces."
"Did you recover anything from the bodies?"
Stormare reached into a pouch on his chest plate and produced a small pile of dog tags, and a small microchip retrieved from the helmet of one his deceased teammates. "The chip came from Kirilenko, I don't know what's its worth…the magnetism inside the structure might have tampered with the video feed, but the COM recordings should be intact…they're on a separate system than the video."
Hale reached across the table to accept the offered hardware. The other Marines described the nature of their assailants, revealing little to nothing other than they appeared in the broken armor of their teammates, firing an assortment of human and Covenant weapons. No one wanted to be the ones to say the word, but the description was perfect.
Private First Class Sucre shifted uneasily. "They were like fucking…zombies or some shit." At the mention of the word, several of the other men looked at him quizzically, and then reluctantly nodded agreement.
It made sense from what he had seen from Wolcott's HUD cam, but it was surreal realization. The pieces fit into place but his brain refused to verify the results. Hale turned the chip over in his fingers. "Alright Marines, I'll take a look at this and get back to you if I need you."
The leathernecks filed out of the room, and disappeared into the depths of the carrier. Hale pressed a key on the surface of the table and a small device emerged from the façade of the table top, sporting a small display pedestal and a bank of data ports. The lieutenant slid the chip into the first port with a satisfying click.
A loading screen spread across the display, determining the nature of the new hardware. Within seconds the task completed, producing the text data written onto the chip, and began to play the audio through a small set of speakers.
O-4 (Major) KIRILENKO, ANDREY I.
ASSIGNED: 3rd BATTALION: 82nd ORBITAL DROP MARINES
SERIAL NUMBER: K871: O-4 AIK
MISSION CLOCK: 0234 hours
/PLAY
Marine [C103]: Alright ladies, I want a tight dispersal! You know the drill and I want it done right, go!
Marine [B555]: Pelicans are clear, Sarge! We've got all our boots on the deck.
Marine [C103]: Alright, Kosov, find out where Fox and Alpha landed, I can't see shit in this snow.
Marine [K871]: Two hundred meters to our north, Sergeant. There's no need for the runner, pole's playing hell with the COMs.
Marine [C103]: Yes, sir.
COM: Movement, static
Marine [B338]: Hey, Sarge! I think I found what we're looking for.
Marine [C103]: Maddox, I swear to God if you don't keep your voice down…
Marine [K871]: Whaddaya got, Corporal?
Marine [B338]: Pair 'a Covenant Phantoms, lookin' real cozy down there.
Marine [K871]: That's it?
Marine [B338]: …That's all I got.
Marine [K871]: That's a ways across the valley, Fox is closer, radio Stetson and tell him to move in without us.
Marine [C103]: Wilco, Major.
/FORWARD
/PLAY
Marine [E762]: It's fuckin' dark in here.
Marine [G119]: Beats the blizzard outside, Thomas.
Marine [C103]: Keep it down, Marines…
Marine [B555]: Shit!
COM: Movement, weapons' clicking
Marine [B555]: We're good, there's a Bravo Kilo right here though that's torn to shit.
Marine [B338]: Who the fuck did that? Those bastards are tough.
Marine [K871]: Keep moving, Marines. Maybe Foxtrot cleaned the Brutes up for us ahead a time.
Marine [C103]: You heard the Major, Juliet. Move your asses.
/FORWARD
/PLAY
Marine [E762]: What the hell was that?
Marine [C103]: Dunno.
Marine [G448]: What the fuck!
COM: Weapons' fire, static
Marine [C103]: Clear!
Marine [K871]: Report!
Marine [B555]: Maddox is down. Thomas, too.
Marine [K871]: Shit. Try and raise Fox and Alpha again.
Marine [G119]: Still nothing, Major.
Marine [E112]: Um, Major? I think I know why Fox hasn't been answering our calls…
Marine [C001]: Ah, shit. That's Campbell…or what's left of him.
Marine [B376]: I think this is Ramirez over here…
Marine [B555]: Somebody better tell me what the fuck is going on down here—
Marine [C103]: Contact!
COM: Weapons' fire, high static, movement
Marine [B555]: We gotta fall back! Too many!
Marine [C103]: Move, Marines! We've gotta—
Marine [G448]: Sarge!
COM: Incomprehensible speech, screaming, weapons' fire, static
NOTICE: Device is internally damaged. Further recordings have been corrupted.
/CLOSE
Hale stared at the monitor for a full minute before removing the chip. Hearing a story told to you was one thing, hearing it in first person sent shivers down his spine. Hearing their screams of terror and unspeakable pain. These were the screams of the paralyzed with cold horror, a horror that even the greatest Covenant warriors could not inspire. Something had happened in the structures below the Kai Sao mountain ranges, and Hale was not so sure that humans, or anything else was meant to unveil it.
Tau Chi II: Ch. 5 - Contact
Date: 20 January 2009, 9:09 am
Tau Chi II: Orbital Path, Centauri System
Aboard: UNSCDF Cerberus
Crew Barracks: Deck Nine
Jeremy Hale ambled along the corridors of the Cerberus, exhausted from the events of his previous shift. The surviving UNSC ships were safely on the far side of Tau Chi now, sheltered from their Covenant counterparts for the next eleven hours.
'A' crew had been relieved at once, ordered to get as much sleep as possible. The Longsword Wings had dispatched the last of the Covenant boarding vessels several hours ago, and the threat of enemy infiltrators had been averted. Hale removed his pistol belt and gripped it loosely with his left hand, allowing the strap to drag along the deck with a series of clacking each time to encountered a chink in the plating.
He stumbled into the crew barracks and collapsed on the nearest cot, depositing his pistol on the table nearby. It felt as if tiny weights had been festooned to his eyelids, slowing weighing them down until they connected, plunging him into darkness.
Sleep came almost instantly, bringing forth new demons to torment his rest. His mind conjured up visions of horrible aberrations, screams clad in broken armor. The creatures' wails answered by the desperate pleas of help from the cornered soldiers, unarmed and defenseless against the monsters before them.
He was forced to watch from above, knowing their pain as if it were his, subject to watch and listen to their terror, as their bodies were ripped apart before his eyes. Each would cry out his name before their last breath departed from their lips, crying out for salvation from the hell they had been sent to…
Hale's eyes shot open and rolled out on to the deck with a crash. His body was bathed in sweat, and he sobbed uncontrollably. Shivers racked his body as the fear abated, granting him a measure of the calm he usually commanded.
"Hale?" The voice said from above him. His bunkmate was a Longsword pilot who flew escort for troop deployments to the surface.
"I'm fine. Nightmare," he said, toweling his brow with the hem of his shirt.
Lieutenant Commander Franklin Gear hopped down to the deck from the bunk above him. "What about?"
"Don't wanna talk about it," Hale said, standing.
"Your friends on the Bridge?" Franklin asked.
"Its not that its…" He paused, choking back more tears. "I let them die down there, Frank! I let them die!"
"Let who die?"
"Those Marines! I sent them down there, I chose them for the op, and then I wasn't there when they needed me. If only I could have—"
"…You know that's bullshit, man. Those boys knew what they were getting into, and they wouldn't have made it even if you could have reached them the whole time," Gear said grimly, placing a hand on Hale's shoulder.
"Juliet called for extraction…if I had got the uplink situated sooner…"
"Hey, you brought eight guys back, right?" Gear shrugged.
"Seven," Hale answered, straightening.
"You keeping cool when it was going down brought those guys home. You did fine."
"…Seven out of an entire company." The sickening revelation seemed to slither over him and tighten its grip on his neck.
"Look, man. I know this is your first. Believe me I've been there. Being an officer means that you will see men die, and there's no getting around that. It doesn't get any easier, but you can't blame yourself for their deaths."
"Yeah I know…it just feels like…I'm responsible for them," Hale explained.
"You are. But it doesn't mean that if you're more responsible that they aren't going to die. I'm not downplaying their deaths, Hale. I watched half my squadron go down today, believe me it hurts, but you just gotta do your job with a level head and do it right…that's all you can do. And you did."
"Yeah…I guess so. I don't know, the whole time I feel like I was watching someone else, like I was on autopilot…and then…it just hit me I guess."
"It's alright, pal. You did fine. Now we both got jobs to do, and let's get to 'em. Come on, I'll walk you down," Franklin stood, zipping up the front of his flight suit.
Hale followed the pilot for several decks aft, until Gear split off to head to the hangers. Jeremy took a deep breath and crossed the threshold of the CIC. The calm washed back over him like cool water. He exhaled and took his chair behind a repaired Ops terminal. The sign in finished and he returned to work.
Brauer stood at the fore of the Command Deck, hands clasped at the small of his back, gazing out the central view port. Hale watched him for a moment, looking at the man with a newfound respect and admiration. The captain stood on bloodstained decks, watched half of his crew vaporized before his eyes, and still he maintained unwavering mettle.
Hale looked away from the officer, and accessed the Operations mainframe. He swiveled away from the console and stood before the glass pane display. A holographic representation of Wing 4-6 raced out from the shadow of Tau Chi's moon and laid out a field of SHIVA tactical warheads in a loose net a few thousand kilometers outside the defense perimeter. Let's see if that works…
Tau Chi II Sector, Centauri System
Aboard: Covenant Assault Carrier Confession's Price
Supreme Commander Sarkmere Talom'ee strode the corridors towards the Command Center of the Covenant Assault Carrier. The vanguard legions were already preparing for the invasion, and the activity on the bridge mirrored that. Covenant naval crews differed from their human counterparts in that many of Sark's bridge officers were also prominent leaders of his contingent of ground forces.
His weapons officers were assembling their assault harnesses and priming their plasma carbines. The Commander longed to accompany them; he was loath to send Sangheili to battle when he was not there to lead them. Not that he was worried for them, Sangheili relished the glory of combat, and an honorable death was an aspiration of all their greatest warriors. No, he was reluctant to be absent from the field to share the carnage with his brethren.
Talom'ee gazed down at the plasma rifle at his hip, visible from a shift of his robes. He sighed softly and gathered the garment around himself. Kaln materialized at his side, watching the displays of the troops moving about on the holographic projections.
"Are they ready, Kaln?"
"Indeed, Excellency," The Elite turned to face him, his golden eyes illustrating a measure of concern. "The probe revealed some startling information, Commander."
"And what would that be?" Sark asked, listening intently, though fixing his eyes on the displays.
"The human contingents on the southern surface have been decimated."
Sark shifted his gaze. "I do not see how this is ill news, comrade."
"Commander, our forces had been confirmed eliminated at the time of the humans arrival, once they had gained entry to the Forerunner structure, they dropped out of contact," Kaln face did mirror concern, but nothing akin to fear.
"Perhaps a sentry system set in place by the ancients that we failed to recognize?" Sark suggested, his mind turning over the possibilities.
"…Unlikely," Kaln was withholding something. He suspected the answer. "Not Fasa'ee and all under his command. There would have been survivors."
Sark stumbled over a troubling realization. "…No, not here. They were dealt with on the—"
"It would seem, brother, that we have been misinformed once again."
"Burn the planet," Sark ordered, "If the Hierarchs cannot prepare us for what we are to encounter, we have nothing more to gain here."
"Are we to discard the quarantine policies as well, Sark? Wattinr'ee's orders were impossible to misinterpret…and despite even our best efforts at glassing the human worlds, there are always survivors."
Sarkmere swore softly. He had let his frustration cloud his judgment for a moment. "The humans will fall to infection…and the Parasite will spread to the stars…you're correct. We have an obligation to fulfill."
Kaln's mandibles clamped together, betraying a measure of tense resignation. "I suspected such a response, I will lead the legions myself."
"I would have no one else," Sark answered. "The Flood will sense the nearest presence of a high populace…which seems to be this human metropolis here, Chinhae-Taejon." The Commander fumbled with the words meant for human mouths.
"Shall we burn the region before our lances set down?"
"No…the charred landscape would only hamper our forces' movements, leaving them vulnerable to the Parasite's survivors," Sark stated. "Disregard my previous directives…we will have to eliminate the human presence in their cities and then burn their vessels, only then will the planet be cleansed…once any form of escape for the infection has been dealt with."
"Yes, Excellency. I'll send down the advance lances," Kaln saluted crisply and strode off the command platform. Sark watched him leave, turning back towards his displays.
The Supreme Commander raised an armored hand and waved it before the projections. The screen shimmered and shifted as if a pool of water. When the image cleared, it portrayed the CCS Triumvirate moving forward of the Prophet's Blade, accompanied by dozens of Seraph fighters, floating about the gargantuan battle-cruiser like tiny shimmering raindrops.
"There is something amiss," Kaln's voice resonated from the bridge below the platform.
Sark concentrated on the bulbous CCS moving into a field of wreckage of UNSC ships. The point lasers of the Triumvirate detected an object and opened fire. The display instantly turned white with a flash of light.
"What treachery is this?" One of the deck officers asked desperately.
"The final attempts at resistance from a dying animal, friend." Kaln's cool voice answered. Sark stared at the displays until the projections cleared, revealing a broken silhouette of what was the Triumvirate.
"Patience seems to be a virtue ignored when coupled with a pressing objective," Sark clenched his jaw with contained frustration. "And the price is another thousand lives…let us proceed with care, Sangheili. The humans are only the beginning of this conflict, but they are not to be ignored."
Sark looked down at his waist, where his blade clung to his armor. He released a slow exhale and ignited Unforgiving, moving the white-hot blade against his forearms in a pair of crosses, scalding his gray skin to a bright red.
He stifled a snarl as the pain arrived milliseconds afterwards. A few Sangheili had noticed, but had wisely remained rigid at their posts, attending their duties. The blade was replaced at his waist and his robes adjusted to hide his recently acquired imperfection.
The self-inflicted dishonor was a miniscule, insignificant payment for the hundreds sent to die from a poorly considered directive. He would bear the scars with the ill will that accompanied such things. He cleared the fog of pain from his mind and straightened. "Barrage the field, clear away the human defenses."
The nine Covenant capital ships fluidly advanced through the vacuum, battering the wreckage fields with salvos of plasma blasts. The barrage was met with an answering set of bright flashes as the last of the human's nuclear devices detonated harmlessly.
"Send a lance to the Triumvirate and recover its survivors," Sark dictated to no one in particular, but knew the directive would be carried out.
Tau Chi II, Centauri System
Chinhae-Taejon, Pesanga Province
AA-Position Bravo: Echo Platoon
"Whaddaya think, Sam?" PFC. Casey asked from behind the spotter's scope.
"I dunno, man." Lance Corporal Samuel Hawkins shifted from behind his riflescope to retrieve the D-DACT clipped to his vest. "Command's got no birds in for the next hour…check the call sign…"
"She don't got one…Covenant maybe? Its still too far to make out the make…all I've got is a faint engine signature on the long-range scanners," Erik Casey informed him, looked up from the scope.
The two snipers lay prone on the thirtieth story of an incomplete skyscraper project, overlooking the anti-aircraft battery nestled against the seawall of Chinhae's southern border.
"You think anything's gonna go down?" Casey asked. The Marine's helmet lay next to him, allowing him to peer through the spotter's scope more easily. His exposed countenance betrayed a tinge of concern.
"You'll see her again, Case. Just be cool, and we'll be fine," Sam encouraged, looking up at his friend for a moment.
"…Yeah, I hope so. You know she's pregnant?" Casey said quietly, almost embarrassedly.
"No shit? Congratulations!" Sam smiled widely, exposing perfect white teeth against his dark skin. "Do her folks know yet?"
"Heh, I'd be dead already, pal. Nicole's old man is a captain in the 105th."
"Shee-it. Better watch yourself. I've got a few buddies in the 105th, hardcore sons 'a bitches. You know they were on Jericho?"
"Holy fuck, he's going to kill me," Casey said, laughing softly.
Sam chuckled as well. "Better ask to marry her right now. Might only break your legs if you hurry."
A few more stifled laughs terminated the conversation. A garbled voice asked their status a moment later.
"Eyes 3-1, this is Control, got anything?"
"Yeah, Sarge. We got a faint hit on sensor group 3-9-8 …unknown classification." Casey held up the map to assure himself he had given the correct the location.
"Wilco, Eyes. We'll watch for 'em."
An incessant beeping blared in their earpieces. "Scratch that, Sarge! We got a Covenant contact group moving up over the water, same sector."
"Acknowledged, Eyes, lightin' up 3-9-8," The Control Ops sergeant warned. Hawkins watched as the turret of the AA battery swung towards the waterline and filled the sky with clouds of flak.
The 10x magnification scope revealed the violet, bulbous Phantoms soaring directly into the battery's field of fire. There were six Phantoms, flying in no recognizable formation. The leading dropships slammed into the wall of flak, obliterating the crafts' hull, pitching their wreckage into the thrashing seas beneath.
The loss of the first two craft seemed to promote action from the others. The four Phantoms evaded another salvo from the battery with jolted movements. The wing group crossed over land, the event punctuated with another dropship crashing to the sand below in a pillar of flame. A squadron of M808B Scorpions rolled into position around the battery, preparing to repel the encroaching hostiles.
The battery below was set in a large plaza. Marines were shoving barricades into place and taking up positions on the lower level buildings.
Hawkins snapped onto the crippled Phantom half-buried in the sand of the beachhead. "Show time, Case. Whaddaya got?"
"Nine hundred and twelve meters…little less than a second of flight time. Six kilometer per hour winds coming out of the north…movement," Casey's hushed report resonated into Hawkins's earpiece.
"Target…what is that?" Casey asked, adjusting the scope to assure his brain of what he had seen.
Hawkins did not possess the same confusion. He compensated for time, movement and the wind and selected one of the figures emerging from the dropship. He squeezed the trigger, provoking the rifle to recoil against his shoulder.
One, one thousand…
Pop. The 15.2mm APFSDS round tore through the macabre form's chest, obliterating the creature's upper body, leaving the legs to take a few more steps before collapsing to the sand.
"Another target, eight hundred and seventy-four meters, wind's died down…flight time the same," Casey dictated.
The bullet left the barrel instantly, flying through the target's skull, exploding it with a shower of brains. Hawkins was already switching targets when he realized the form hadn't slowed its charge.
"What the fuck?" He breathed, targeting the chest and firing again. The third shot dismembered the form as the first had. The figure did not move again.
"Sam, I've got some little guys comin' out of the Phantom…"
"Don't worry about the little squid fuckers," Sam breathed, squeezing off his last round.
"Shit, Sam! We've got multiple hostiles moving left!" Case reached for his BR55HB and shouldered the carbine.
The sharp notes of the battle rifle's report snapped through the air. Hawkins reached for a pile of magazines and slammed one home. "Control, you have multiple hostiles closing in on your right flank!"
Four other sniper teams replied instantly, firing upon the lines of encroaching invaders. The M808's followed suit, pivoting on their four sets of treads to blow away entire waves of the grotesque monstrosities.
One of the Scorpions rolled forward, firing with its thirty caliber cannon into the throng. Sabot rounds showered the masses as well from a collection of sharpshooters. Hawkins watched as an ocean of the squid forms crawled over the surface of the tank, attaching themselves to the chest of the gunner and driver inside.
A scream cut through the COM as the men died, strangled to death by tendril-like tentacles. The tank lay still for a moment and then rotated its turret and cannon, firing on its former comrades' lines. Confusion set in seconds later as swarms of the little forms crashed over the UNSC defenses. Within seconds, confusion turned to chaos, as the surviving Marines were cut down by hordes of the decayed undead.
"Who do we hit?" Casey screamed. "Sam!"
Sam watched as Marines below fought hopelessly against infection forms adhered to their bodies, thrashing as the creatures won dominion over them. With a choked sound, looking into a man's eyes through the scope and squeezed the trigger.
The sabot round hit him in the chest with a plume of crimson, allowing him to lie still. "Their gone, Case! They're all fucking gone!"
Case bit his lip and lowered his helmet over his head, pressed a hand to his transmitter. "Cerberus Command, this is Eyes 3-1! We have an overrun position in Chin-Tae double 'a' Bravo! Broken Arrow, repeat, Broken Arrow!"
Hale's voice answered immediately. "Affirm on directive, Eyes. How many friendlies in the zone?"
Case looked at Sam with a grieved glance. Sam nodded grimly in response. "None. Repeat, there are no friendlies in the zone," Case replied, choking on the words.
In reply, a squadron of Shortswords screeched overhead, deploying cluster munitions and incendiary ordnance across the surface of Echo Platoon's former position. Buildings crumpled to their foundations, crushing dozens of dying Marines and their counterparts in the process. The napalm finished the gruesome task, adhering to the bodies of everything within the kill zone, burning it to death and beyond.
"We gotta go, man," Sam said urgently. "The other teams are on the wrong side of the line…we're the only ones left." There was movement even within the flames, coupled with the screams of the dying. The other sniper teams might have survived the strike, but their positions put the new hostilities in the path of their escape into the city center.
"Contact Command. Whatever the hell those things were, they just wiped us the fuck out," Sam stated, slinging the S2 over his shoulder and scrambling to depart their perch.
"…Shit," Casey swore.
"What?"
"Uplink for this sector musta taken a hit…I've got nothing to Command."
"Fuck. Okay, Callahan and his boys are dug in farther inside…let's move."
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