“I’ll sing to her, bring spring to her, and long for the day when I’ll cling to her… Bewitched, bothered and bewildered, am I…” Jason sang to himself, the noise not escaping his helmet. He found it difficult to imagine what a squad of ODSTs would think of a SPARTAN singing to himself.

And who I’m singing about… That’s difficult to explain…

“Major, we’re ready to move,” An ODST told him. His callsign was Blade One, as he’d been the leader of the team before Jason had taken control of it for this operation.

Jason stood up, grabbed his sniper rifle and glanced at his wrist-mounted TACPAD. Looking at a map, they were only a klick away from the compound.

A symbol on his HUD indicated an incoming transmission, so he opened the channel.

“Surgeon, there’s been a change of plans,” Admiral Hunt explained grimly. “A few hours ago, CMU forces invaded southwestern Equestria and several other regions around the globe. This wouldn’t be a huge problem normally, but because of the volatile situation MAC strikes are prohibited. Using them could very well put the Unikrainians in a dangerous state of mind.”

“Sir, I understand that’s an important development, but what does that have to do with this op?” Jason inquired.

“It means that this is no longer a black op, and your mission objectives are changed. We’ve got Shortsword bombers on standby. Get some beacons placed around the facility, they’ll give us crude 3D imaging of the area. Our bombers’ll use that reference to bomb that place to Hell and back.”

“Exfil?”

“A Pelican will pick you up after the bombing run is over. We’ll redeploy you and your team to the Highrim Mountains in the Griffon Kingdom, where you’ll need to assist a local base that’s been under siege since the war started. Right now, you just need to focus on taking out that design bureau.”

“Sir.”

The admiral disconnected, and Jason turned to face his team.

“Gentlemen. We came here to hinder the war-making ability of this country and deter any aggression, but now we’re too late to stop a war. CMU forces are moving all over the planet, and we can’t use MAC strikes because it might provoke the Kranies to use WMDs. We’re getting to that base, planting some beacons around it, and falling back so our Shortsword bombers can turn that base into a crater. A Pelican will evacuate us afterwards and send us to our next mission. This is no longer a black operation, so your micro-bombs are no longer necessary. Let’s move.”

The armored men filed out of the snow cave, which had served as their final rest stop before assaulting the base. While Jason hadn’t tired during their trek on account of his augmentations and powered armor, the elite ODSTs accompanying him weren’t so lucky. As the group continued to the observation point, they noticed that their vision was becoming gradually more obscured by the weather.

When they reached their destination, they all took a knee and checked their equipment one last time. Jason surveyed the base through the optic of his SRS-99, and noted several key positions, and good points for the team to place beacons.

A radar dish was mounted in the near corner of the base, and taking that out would render them blind. A communications antenna a couple hundred meters away from that would render them deaf and mute if it were eliminated. That meant that in two explosions, they could cut the base off from the outside world.

The beacons they needed to place were the size of golf balls, and Jason was carrying a half-dozen of them. One would go between the radar and communications antennae, another atop one of the central buildings, a third at the far end of the complex, and a fourth on their escape route.

The weather was definitely getting worse, which made it a more difficult prospect to engage the enemy in combat. Fortunately, most of the guards seemed to be heading inside as the inclement weather intensified. Several of them seemed to be wearing VANITY armor, however.

As he looked over the area, he noted the vehicles outside that could be used for cover, and several crates made of sturdy-looking metal.

“Okay people, listen up. We’re gonna plant charges on that radar dish,” He placed a waypoint on it. “And the comm antenna over there.” He placed another waypoint. “Two charges and the base will be cut off from the outside world. I’ve got the beacons we’ll need to use, and I’ve got a good arm. If we can manage to stay undetected, we can do this in ten minutes. If we do get detected, we’re in trouble; I saw at least six VANITY troopers down there, and there’s probably more. This is where they’re making most of it, so it makes sense it has a lot of guards using it.”

“Son of a bitch…”

“Sound suppressors on, weapons hold. Follow me.”

Jason slid down the snowy slope, his rifle attached to his back and his M6G out and loaded with suppressed ammo. The ODSTs followed suit, spraying up white powder as they descended.

The SPARTAN hit the ground first naturally, and he grabbed a sensor and threw it into position. The sphere flew a few hundred meters and landed neatly between the communications and radar towers.

Jason marked several guards on his team’s HUDs, all of whom were the only guards who could see them if they tried to plant their charges.

“My count, five,” Jason announced. “I’ve got the one with the DMR.” He activated the smart-link scope on his pistol and lined up a shot.

“I’ve got the smoker.”

“Walker is mine.”

“Two having a conversation, I call leftie.”

“I’ll take right.”

“Fire on my mark… Fire.”

The whispers and claps of their suppressed weapons could hardly be heard in the wind, nor could the five bodies falling limply to the ground.

“Move up. Six and Seven, plant charges on the comm antenna. Five and Four, on the radar. Set them to remote-det on frequency 145.75. One through Three, stay in formation.”

Jason led his part of the squad toward the far side of the base, using a roundabout path, at which point he tossed another sensor almost opposite the first one.

Two down, two to go.

On the return trip, he took a minute to judge another throw before he lobbed the third to a perch atop one of the central structures. That meant that most of the base would be mapped out for the bombers, supplementing their existing knowledge of the base and providing clearer targeting in the snowstorm.

The four of them headed back to the rest of the team, cautiously advancing through the snow. Their boots crunched snow with each step, and the worsening conditions meant that it was more of a struggle to move forwards. Conversely, if they were too slow, they could be discovered by thermal imaging, their icy silhouettes becoming clearer against the colder background.

As they approached their comrades, they noticed that there were more than four of them. A lot more than four of them. One of the newcomers was clad in a red set of VANITY armor, and held a shotgun to one of the ODST’s heads. The others were similarly held at gunpoint.

“Major Greer!” One of them shouted, before receiving a rifle butt to the back of his head.

“So the UNSC decided to send a SPARTAN our way?” A dry voice said over the radio. Using a common UNSC combat frequency, he could be heard by all their soldiers linked up to their comms, even if he didn’t know what channel they used for their covert communication. “Well, I didn’t think our little operation rated that high a strategic value. I’m flattered.”

“If you’re so hot for me, then you won’t mind letting my team go. I’m in charge,” Jason announced. He had no delusions that Sobec would let his men go.

“Obviously. And if you try anything, my men and I’ll ice this half of your team, and then you four afterwards.”

This must be Sobec. He certainly acts like him, and the red armor fits.

Sobec blasted one of the captives’ heads with his shotgun without prompting, turning it into a geyser of gore. Nobody on Jason’s team did anything more than cringe, because they knew what would happen if they made any attempts to get back at him.

“So we understand each other. Good. All of you holster your weapons.”

“Do it,” Jason ordered. His team complied reluctantly.

An eerie silence befell the area, and the snowstorm cleared up in seconds. They could see each other relatively clearly now, though the arctic night still shrouded them in darkness.

Need a plan. Need to make it fast. Need to act fast.

“Okay, we’re going to come over slowly,” He said.

“Good.”

The ODSTs reluctantly followed him as he marched through the snow.

“Follow my lead. When you hear the signal, get to cover and open up. Got it?” Jason whispered over his private comms. All six remaining troopers winked their green acknowledgement lights.

“Keep going,” Sobec ordered.

Jason moved his hands up slowly, and his right hand spent just enough time passing his wrist-mounted TACPAD to discreetly enter a single command. That command would trigger the signal.

The “signal” was a pair of explosions that tore apart both the antenna and the radar dish, as the C-12 explosives each unleashed an enormous amount of energy in the form of a fireball and pressure wave.

The nearest sensor, which was buried under several centimeters of snow by then, was safe from the shockwave and continued to function.

The explosions startled the guards and sent some of them reeling. The ODSTs got to their feet and regrouped with the others, firing their rifles as they went. Sobec regained his composure after a few seconds, but by that time his captives were almost a hundred meters away.

Jason tossed the fourth sensor into position as he and his team fled, and activated his comms. “Admiral, this is Surgeon. Beacons are in place, scramble the bombers and get us that evac!” He turned around and fired a few shots at a pursuing VANITY trooper, with a headshot dropping him.

“Understood, Shortswords are en route from their loitering position, and Pelicans are heading your way. ETA two minutes for the evac, three for the bombers.”

“Sir, vehicles over there!” Blade Three called out, pointing to some vehicles with nearby Unikrainian and Mamba infantry accompanying them. A flurry of high-caliber bullets mowed them down, clearing their way.

Jason got in a snow-camouflaged Mongoose, five ODSTs got in a similarly-painted troop transport Warthog, and the remaining trooper got on Jason’s quad. They all shot forward and headed down the slope of the mountain.

A glance backwards showed that several of the guards were in pursuit, using their own ATVs to follow them. One of them was Leo Sobec. One of the ODSTs primed a grenade and threw it at a group of hostiles, who were sent into rollovers by the explosion.

Sobec’s Mongoose closed on Jason, and he shot the SPARTAN’s passenger until he fell off and died. As they raced downwards, Sobec began to ram the side of his vehicle into Jason’s, and he countered with his own sideswipes. This competition continued for several more seconds, until Jason grabbed the Major’s gauntlet and kicked the side of his abdomen, whilst simultaneously pushing him away to increase the repulsing force. The security chief fell from his vehicle and skidded off of a nearby cliff.

Jason made it to the LZ just as the Pelican arrived, and the ODSTs piled in. He leapt in and pounded the button to close the rear hatch, then sat down. He’d be back in combat soon enough.

Half a minute after the dropship lifted off, distant thunder could be heard.

Author's Note

I'm glad I sent Jason in. Otherwise the brass would've sent in some special forces douchebags with pussy-ass heartbeat monitors on their guns instead of them. Also, ATVs>Snowmobiles.