Chapter 1: "You know the music. Time to dance."
Chapter 1: "You know the music. Time to dance."
Tony found it odd that he was actually staring his opponent in the eye without craning his neck. Most Elites simply towered over the average human. However, at just under two meters tall, Tony's foe was practically diminutive. Still, the Elite wore the jet-black armor of a spec-ops soldier, signifying just how dangerous he truly was.
The two had been staring at each other for thirty seconds, sizing each other up before making their move. Neither human nor sangheili were in a hurry. They could take their time.
Even so, the stalemate would have to be broken eventually.
After what seemed like an eternity, Tony made his move. "All in," he said, pushing his pile of chips towards the center of the table.
"Call," the Elite rumbled without any hesitation. He could afford to. His chip stack was much bigger. Both flipped over their cards, revealing an Ace and King off-suit for Tony, and pocket Twos for the Elite.
"Damn it!" Tony shouted. A chorus of groans from three of his squad mates answered him. The Elite had already cleaned them out. He was their last hope. "Ok," he said, taking a calming breath. "I still have the turn and river. I can still win this."
"Not likely, human," the Elite chuckled. He was right, too. The flop had a Jack and Ten, meaning Tony only needed a Queen to win. But, the third card was another Two, giving the Elite three of a kind.
Off in the corner, the squad's C.O. was busy re-reading the mission briefing, but he still couldn't help but laugh at the antics around the poker table. It amazed him that they appeared to be on friendly terms with someone they wouldn't have hesitated to kill a few years ago.
***
One week ago.
Aboard UNSC Cape Horn, in orbit of Crassus.
Four men and one woman walked proudly down the halls of the aging Halcyon class cruiser. Crewmen promptly got out of their way as the squad headed for the ship's conference room. They were Angel Squad, the best fighters ever seen amongst the ranks of ODSTs.
This was their first time aboard the Cape Horn, but the crew still knew better than to fuck with them.
Leading the squad was their leader, Captain George McCoy. Standing just shy of seven feet tall, he set a quick pace for his squad. His unkempt black hair was only an inch thick, and his eyes were a bright blue. He, along with everyone in his his squad, was wearing a simple gray shirt and black pants.
Walking behind George was Sergeant Tony DiNardo, the squad's sniper and resident movie geek. He was six and a half feet tall, and carried himself with a measure of confidence that was almost overbearing. Like the Captain, his hair was black, but an inch longer and styled with excessive amounts of gel.
Behind him, Sergei Popov, the third man in the squad and their heavy weapons specialist towered over DiNardo. At seven foot three and with muscles on his muscles, Sergei was sometimes mistaken for a SPARTAN II. Unlike the other two, his hair was blonde, and his eyes were a piercing shade of green. He was always smiling and laughing gregariously, even under the most dire of circumstances.
Next in line was Frank Grimes, the team's demolitionist. Being the only black man in the squad, he really stood out. Unlike the others, his head was shaved (though he wore a black ski-cap when not wearing his armor), and his eyes were brown. His face was marred by nasty pitting and scarring, remnants of a plasma round that grazed his face almost a decade ago.
Bringing up the rear was Samantha Sadi, or Sam as she preferred. She had red hair, hazel eyes, and a cute button nose. At five foot nothing, she was easily the smallest member of the group. However, she was also the fastest, and an expert in hand-to-hand combat, having finished first place in several martial arts competitions against larger opponents. It was even rumored that she had killed a Brute in hand-to-hand combat once, though she always said that she got lucky.
The door to the conference room slid open automatically, allowing Angel Squad to enter. The room was large for a ship, seating twenty people at a time. Along the near wall was a small podium with a holo-emitter built in. On the back wall, however, was a large window, allowing a fantastic view of the planet below.
Crassus. Once a little known backwater colony, the desert planet had since become a symbol for many. The seven-day siege of the planet's only city was the first time humans and sangheili fought side by side against the Brutes. To this day, many hold the sangheili heroes of the siege in the same high regard as Captain Keyes and Sergeant Johnson.
Now the planet was all but abandoned.
Taking his eyes off the window, George led his squad to the front row of seats. They sat down and awaited the briefing officer.
It wasn't a long wait. Less than a minute after being seated, the door hissed open again and a woman walked in. Dressed in civilian clothing, she was a few inches taller than Sam, minus the high heels she wore, and wore her blonde hair in a tight bun. She carried a datapad in the crook of her right arm, which she set down on the podium as she approached.
"Lady and gentlemen," she said. "I am Doctor Helen Montgomery, Office of Naval Intelligence. I'm sure you're all wondering why we called you out to the ass end of the galaxy.
"Approximately three months ago, the UNSC sent an exploration vessel to the previously uncharted Epsilon Persei system along the border of human and sangheili space," she continued. "There, we found that the system had six planets, three terrestrial and three gas giants."
"Ma'am," George interrupted. "I'm sorry, but what does this have to do with us?"
"I'm getting to that, Captain," Helen replied. "As I was saying, after a further survey, it was discovered that the third planet in the system not only had a typical nitrogen/oxygen atmosphere, temperature ranges comparable to Earth, and liquid water, but also inhabited by a sentient, pre-space flight civilization. Now, even under normal circumstances this would be a monumental discovery. However, as we later found out, there was something oddly familiar about this new species."
Dr. Montgomery tapped a few commands into her pad, and the podium's holo-emitter responded almost instantaneously with a picture instantly familiar to any human with a passing knowledge of mythology. A sharp intake of breath was heard from all but one of the ODSTs, the only exception being what sounded like a delighted squeal from Sam.
"Is that a fucking unicorn?" Tony asked tactfully. Indeed it was. With four legs, four hooves, big eyes, and a stubby horn; the alien was unmistakable. Strangely, its coat was a vibrant pink and its mane was lime-green. Its flank had a marking that looked like a golden caduceus.
"How observant of you, Sergeant," Helen retorted with a hint of mirth. "Yes, the UNSC has found incontrovertible evidence that unicorns exist. Your taxpayer credits at work, people." Her joke was met with a round of polite laughter. "However, that was not the only sentient species we found."
The unicorn faded away, and was replaced by what was unmistakably a pegasus. This equine had a sky-blue coat and a red mane. It too had a marking on its flank, this one being a pair of crossed lightning bolts. That image was soon replaced with what looked like a brown coated, tan maned regular equine. Well, regular despite the rounded, almost humanoid head and flank marking of three bullets in a stripper-clip.
Next up was an image of a regal-looking winged unicorn. It appeared to be about twice the size of the other ponies, and its coat was a stunning lavender with a violet mane. Unlike the other equines, this one didn't have a flank marking.
"Now, you're probably thinking that this planet is dominated entirely by equines, but you'd be wrong." The winged unicorn's image winked out, and was replaced by an honest to god griffon. Its eagle head and wings were white, and its coat was a mottled yellow. Unlike the others, this life-form wore armor over its torso and cradled a firearm of alien design in its claws.
"How did we get these pictures?" George asked.
"A very good question," Helen replied. "After making orbit, the exploration ship Mother of Invention launched several unmanned survey drones. These drones have active camouflage, and made it to the lower atmosphere undetected. There, the drones began their survey; taking air samples, radar scans, and pictures." The holo-emitter showed several pictures in quick succession. All of the images had the same theme; cityscapes, industrial centers, residencial districts, all signs of a fairly advanced species.
All of which were blasted to hell and back.
"Man, looks like that place was tag teamed by giant fuckbots," Frank blurted out, earning a reproaching look from George.
"An astute observation, Specialist," Helen said. "Atmospheric samples indicate that the planet, Epsilon Persei Three, has much higher than average levels of background radiation than other planets capable of supporting human life, although they are still within tolerable ranges. Taking that into account along with the images, ONI's science division has come to the conclusion that this planet had experienced a full-scale nuclear war sometime in the past three centuries." Surprised murmurs answered Helen as the Marines discussed that bit of news. She noted with amazement just how loud five people talking amongst themselves could be.
The conversation lasted an entire minute before McCoy held his hand up for silence. "So, what's our stake in this, Doctor? Why call us?"
"Simple, Captain," Helen replied. "Last week, the Mother of Invention dispatched a science team to the surface to collect soil, flora, and fauna samples. The surface team set up camp in an area that was off the beaten path, and have been calling in to their ship on the hour every hour since... until two days ago. They've gone dark, Captain.
"You have two missions. First, you will drop in near the science team's camp and investigate their disappearance. If it turns out they're perfectly alright, you will proceed to your second mission. If not, you are to figure out exactly what happened to them.
"Your second mission is a little more... complicated." she continued. "After discovering the fate of the science team, you are to make First Contact with the local population." Helen's declaration was met with surprised silence, so she pressed on. "If the science team still lives, they are to aid you in this task. If they are captured, you are to either negotiate for their release, or break them out yourself if necessary. Contact me before making that decision, however."
"What if they're dead?" Sergei cautiously asked. "Do we avenge them?"
Helen shook her head. "If you have confirmed their deaths, then you are to contact me for further orders," she replied sternly. "Now, I'm sure you have questions. Please, ask away."
***
A klaxon alarm went off before the River could be played, and the game was interrupted by the motherly voice of the ship's on-board AI. "Attention all personnel, we are now entering orbit of Epsilon Persei Three. Angel Squad, gear up and head to your pods."
"You heard the lady," George shouted. "Let's move it!"
Three of the Marines around the card table were up and moving before their Captain even spoke, and the sangheili only lingered for a moment. Tony, on the other hand, hesitated for a bit longer, reaching out for the next card in the deck. He pulled back at the last second, leaving the last card of the game a mystery.
He ran out the door, almost plowing into both the Elite and his Captain in the process. He gave an apologetic wave of his hand before speeding off after the rest of the squad. George could only laugh quietly.
"So, Vren, I hope everyone's treating you alright."
Vren Kilkarai nodded politely. "I have met less hostility since our first encounter. It probably helps that I am from the same clan as a hero."
Rukth Kilkar, one of Vren's distant relatives, and hero of the Battle of Crassus. For seven long days, while the city of Horizon burned, while others fought and toiled in the streets against the brutality of the Jiralhanae, Rukth held the north wall of the city, alongside a handful of Elites and Militiamen. Under constant enemy attack, they held the line. They fought to the last man, and yet for seven long days, the north wall never fell.
"It helps," George admitted as they entered the armory. The rest of the squad was in the process of gearing up, so George wasted no time in slipping into a black bodysuit before attaching pieces of his armor.
Vren, who was in the habit of wearing his armor everywhere he went, merely slipped a pair of plasma swords onto his belt. He eyed a suppressed M7 submachine gun for a moment before grabbing it and attaching it to his backplate, along with a few extra magazines for good measure.
"I thought you weren't allowed to use human weapons," Frank inquired, earning a sharp bark of laughter from the Elite.
"Tradition dictates that I should shun your weapons, yes," he said. "Prudence, however, dictates that what the Kaidon does not know will not hurt him."
A few of the Marines snickered. George just shook his head, smiling.
***
"Why us?" asked George. "I always thought that First Contact was a diplomat's job."
"Because this planet is very dangerous, Captain," Helen stated bluntly. "Some of the indigenous wildlife would rip a Hunter limb from limb. Hell, while the 'ponies' may look all cute and cuddly, some of them are more vicious than the Brutes. We have footage of raiders attacking a small settlement and killing and raping everything that moves... and a few things that didn't.
"That being said, however, Earth is preparing a diplomatic team for more formal contact with whoever's in charge. They just want you to go in first to get a lay of the land. Find out who's who and what's what. Think of it as recon in force."
Tony raised his hand. "Follow up question. Why just us? Why not send an entire Marine company?"
"Because we don't want to look like 'the conquering invaders', as ONI's new director put it. He wants to keep our footprint as light as possible until the diplomats meet with the leadership. Now, if you get into trouble before then, you will have full support from the Cape Horn's air wing, and the ship's entire Marine detachment will be on standby should they be necessary.
"And, if you do run into something really bad like, heaven forbid, the Flood, we'll have an entire fleet here within twenty-four hours.
"Also... you won't exactly be going in alone." Helen's features tensed. She knew the next bit of news wouldn't go over well. "You will have a sangheili Spec-Ops Commander attached to your unit for this-" She didn't get any further. The Helljumpers, as predicted, erupted.
"What the hell?"
"We don't need no hingehead!"
"Which dumbass thought this would be a good idea?"
Helen let the discourse run for a few moments before letting out a sharp whistle, a trick she'd perfected for just such an occasion. The Marines quieted down almost instantly, allowing her to continue. "I know this is upsetting, but this order comes from both the UEG President and Lord Hood himself. After the utter disaster that was Kilo Five, they both want to play nice with Sangheilios. Epsilon Persei is only an hour's jump away from a sangheili colony world, so they have a vested interest in what we are doing with that world.
"Now, that being said, the Arbiter originally wanted to send a carrier, but Hood talked him down." Helen paused for a moment and looked every soldier directly in the eye. "Now, I don't expect you to like our guest, but I do expect you to tolerate him. Will that be a problem?"
For a moment, no answer was forthcoming, and Helen resigned herself to send a request for another squad. However, to her surprise, the Captain nodded. "I guess we could show the Elites how it's done." The others found themselves laughing in heartfelt bemusement at their Captain's quip.
Helen just smiled. "Fantastic. Now, let it not be said that ONI doesn't reward the worker bees. You will all be getting a bunch of new toys for this mission. It's all still in the experimental phase, but ready for field testing.
***
Sitting in his pod, George was busy fiddling with one of those toys; a wrist-mounted computer, nicknamed "Gauntlet". It was something that he wished he had back in the war. The computer was compact, lightweight, and loaded with features; such as mission logs, notes, and radio. It merged seamlessly with the next generation of ODST battle armor, managing an impressive sensor suite (thermal, motion, and radiological), as well as monitoring the wearer's health.
Speaking of which, the new armor was a thing of beauty. In appearance, it was no different than standard ODST armor, but the tried and true packaging hid many improvements. The armor was made with a new alloy that increased protection from kinetic weapons by fifty percent and plasma by twenty percent when compared to the old suit. Adding to this and the sensor suite, an electroactive polymer infused undersuit effectively increased the wearer's strength. The increase was nowhere near the levels of MJOLNIR armor, but it did allow the wearer to lift an extra ten to twenty pounds without strain.
Other than the Gauntlet and new armor, the squad had a slew of other, more specialized equipment, and George had a sinking suspicion that he'd need every advantage they offered once he reached planetside.
With a sudden lurch, the ship began moving his pod, along with everyone else's into position. A thirty second timer appeared on his helmet's HUD. As the timer counted down, George mentally prepared himself. With a gut-wrenching shove, George's pod rapidly plummeted to the planet below.
***
"What about language barrier?" asked Sergei in a thick Russian accent. "Will that be problem?"
"Absolutely not," Helen bluntly answered. "We've intercepted multiple radio transmissions, and we have come to the stunning conclusion that, and I quote the lead scientist on this, 'they speak perfect friggin' English'."
"That's impossible!" Sam blurted out. "I mean, the statistical odds of a different race on a different planet developing the same language as us are astronomical!"
"That's what every single AI we've asked said as well, Ms Sadi," Helen answered with a knowing smile. "Fact of the matter is, an alien civilization composed of multiple species that not only resembles several old Earth myths, but also speaks an Earth language, the mysteries of this world are adding up rapidly."
***
Despite undergoing thousands of combat drops, one never got accustomed to how rapidly the pods heat up. At least the new pods weren't in as much danger of burning up during re-entry like the old ones, the internal temperature can easily reach near-lethal levels.
Thankfully, the heat only lasted for a minute, and bled rapidly as the pod entered the lower atmosphere. At three thousand feet, George felt the pod jerk as the drag chute deployed, drastically reducing his speed. He was still falling at a rate that would kill him on impact, but the braking rockets fired at fifty meters, allowing the pod to come to a safe (if rather abrupt) landing.
With a resounding *thump*, the pod impacted the ground. The door beeped once before micro-detonators blew the heavy door off its hinges, sending it flying three meters. After taking a few moments to square his gear away, Captain George McCoy stepped out of his pod and took his first breath of the cool night air of Epsilon Persei Three. He immediately noted the rocky terrain, barren terrain. Save for a few scrub brushes, there were no signs of life in the immediate area.
Being in command, his pod was the first to touch down, as per protocol, but the others would be along shortly, and all of them would be landing within a hundred meters of the Captain. Since the earliest days of the ODSTs and throughout most of the Human-Covenant war, a squad of ODSTs was lucky to land within a kilometer of each other. Now, thanks to improvements in pod design and launch protocols, that was only true with large deployments where they needed the space.
As each pod landed, George couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. None of them had burned up in re-entry or had either their drag chute or braking rockets fail. Such an ignoble death was not unheard of in the ODSTs, and was something only spoken of in hushed tones.
Each pod blasted open in sequence, and their occupants spilled out. George had been worried about how Vren would fair in the pod, what with his different physiology. Thankfully, it seemed that the Elite Swordsman survived the drop no worse for wear.
The Captain waved his men over, and they all gathered around him swiftly. "Alright, we should've landed near the camp. Anyone see it on the way down?"
"I think so," Vren said as he pointed off to the east. "About a kilometer that way. I did not see any activity, but it was dark."
George checked the map on his Gauntlet and confirmed that the camp was, indeed, around where Vren indicated. Nodding to himself, George faced his troops. "Alright, let's get this done. Sam, you're on point. Vren, stay cloaked. We don't wanna spook the civvies."
"And us dropping in from orbit wouldn't?" Frank asked sardonically. "I doubt that they didn't see us. Hell, I've been listening in to a local radio station, and this DJ Pon3 cat says that he saw us all the way from someplace called Manehattan."
George blinked. "Put it on speaker!"
Frank tapped a button on his Gauntlet, and a deep masculine voice emanated from his helmet speakers. "-what were those falling stars that everyone in the Equestrian Wasteland just saw? Starmetal? Alien invaders? Who knows? If you find yourself in the neighborhood between Old and New Appleloosa and feel like taking a peek, be careful. A band of slavers have been spotted in that area that Applejack's Rangers haven't gotten around to yet.
"Now here's Sweetie Belle with 'White Cliffs of Canterlot'."
The speakers were switched off, and everyone looked at each other. George detected an edge of nervousness and he had to step in. "Alright, this changes nothing. So they saw us arrive? Big deal. We were gonna make contact anyways. But our mission just took on a whole new level. That guy just said that there are slavers in the area, so we need to make sure that the science team is alright.
"Let's move it people, double time!" With that order, the squad marched off towards a waypoint George transmitted to their HUDs.
Unbeknownst to the Captain, their insertion was even less stealthy than he thought. By pure happenstance, three pegasi happened to be resting on a nearby cloud when their pods came crashing down. Clad in black, insect-like powered armor, they watched as six aliens set foot on Equestrian soil. They could barely hear the aliens' conversation, but one of them put Dj-Pon3 on the radio, and the Pegasi could hear the report clear as day.
Moments later, one of the aliens disappeared from view, as if using a stealthbuck, while the shortest alien led them northwards. Despite their current mission, the three Enclave troopers decided to follow and investigate the aliens, if only to see what they were up to. They took to the skies and hoped they wouldn't be seen.
"We are being followed," Vren whispered over the COM. "Pegasi, I think they're called. Three of them."
"I see 'em," McCoy replied without missing a step. In truth, he'd been wondering what the white dots (unknown contact) on his motion tracker were. Thankfully, none of his visible squad members had physically reacted. "They armed?"
"Possibly," Vren replied evenly. "I am not sure, but I think those devices on their sides are weapons. Orders?"
George thought for a moment before coming to a decision. "Keep an eye on them but do not engage," he ordered. "They're probably just curious locals who saw us arrive. If they start shooting, though, blast 'em."
"Of course," Vren acknowledged. McCoy knew that the Elite was a good soldier, but he needed time before he'd be truly integrated with the squad. He wouldn't have actually needed to give the order to any of his regular squad members. They fought so well together that an outside observer would think that they had the ability to read each others minds.
Moments later, they spotted the science camp. It was on an elevated, out-of-the-way plot of land and surrounded by a few boulders. At first glance, the camp was deserted. This caused McCoy to pause and signal his troops to halt and draw their weapons. He raised an MA5C assault rifle and scanned the camp, switching his VISR to thermal mode, even though the stars and moon gave off plenty of light to see by. Nothing. The camp was cold.
"I've got a bad feeling about this," Tony said. He was carrying his sidearm, since he was a little too close to use his sniper rifle effectively.
"Popov, Grimes, move up," George ordered. The pair advanced cautiously, armed with a light machine gun and shotgun respectively. "Vren, what're our shadows up to?"
"Just watching, Captain," he reported. "They seem to have taken cover behind a low cloud."
McCoy nodded, but kept one eye on his motion tracker. So far there was nothing but his squad and the three pegasi. Everything was quiet. The only noise was the sound of the wind. After a moment, his COM chirped.
"All clear, Captain," Sergei's brusk voice reported. "You're gonna want to see this." McCoy signaled the rest of the squad to advance. Sam's SMG swept side to side as she led the procession, searching for any possible hostiles.
As McCoy entered the camp itself, he noticed at once what Sergei wanted him to see. The place was trashed. Chairs and tables had been upended, consoles smashed, and everything had been shot up. Luckily, there was very little blood, so more than likely the science team was relatively unharmed.
"No sign of the eggheads, sir," Grimes said. "No corpses either. Unless something made them magically disappear, they're probably still alive. Probably those slavers we heard about."
"God I hope not," McCoy sighed. "Alright, Sam, Grimes, see what you can salvage here. Anything we need we take with us. Anything we don't gets torched. Tony, see if any of the computers work. I wanna know if the eggheads had any useful observations. Popov, Vren, I want you two to cover me."
"Cover you, sir?" Sergei asked, surprise audible in his voice.
McCoy nodded and jerked his thumb towards where the Pegasi were hiding. "I'm gonna go say hi."
"Govno," Sergei cursed. "I smell another one of Captain's hair-brained schemes. Like Jericho VII."
"Hey, we survived on Jericho VII!" George snapped. "Just cover me."
Sergei shook his head in exasperation, but obeyed his order. George slipped his rifle onto his back and turned to face the Pegasi's hiding place. "Oy!" he shouted. "Get your asses down here! I wanna talk!" Not exactly the most poignant First Contact message, but what it lacked in style it more than made up for in audacity.
TRAITS
Squad-wide: Forged in Fire- You and your men have fought and bled together through long years of warfare, so much so that you seem to know what the others are thinking in the middle of a firefight. +1 all stats when working as a team
George McCoy: Natural Born Leader- While your combat skills are only above-average at most, you take command with ease, and people find that they'd follow you to hell and back. +10 speech, -5 guns and explosives.
Tony DiNardo: Designated Marksman- You have perfected the skill of waiting for the perfect shot. +10% accuracy, -5% rate of fire
Sergei Ivanovich Popov: Distracting Target- Enemy fire seems to be drawn to you. The only solution is more gun. +15 DT when firing on the enemy, but the enemy more often than not focuses on you.
Frank Grimes: Boom Boom Boom- You are an expert of the art of blowing stuff up. So much so that you find it hard to hold a conversation about anything else. +5 explosives, -5 speech, -1 charisma.
Sam Sadi: Small Package- You are an expert at hand to hand fighting, but most people don't take you seriously due to your size. +15 unarmed, -5 speech, -10 lbs carry weight.
Vren Kilkarai: Swordsman Genes- Thanks to your birthright, you have trained in the way of the blade since you could walk. +5 Melee weapons.
Nontraditional Combatant- Your race shuns the use of certain weapons, but you find that they have certain advantages that shouldn't be overlooked. +10 guns, -20 speech when speaking to other sangheili.
Author's Note
Not gonna do the typical "level up" after each chapter, but I thought I'd give the main characters a few traits at the very least. Maybe a few "quest perks" here and there.
Wanna read more about the Battle of Crassus? Read The Enemy of My Enemy. One of the greatest Halo fics ever.
Also, obligatory thanks to Kkat for creating this wonderful universe.
Chapter 2: "Oh, I know what the ladies like."
Chapter 2: "Oh, I know what the ladies like."
It had already been a long day for Lieutenant Sky Shadow. Oh, sure, it started normal enough, if one could call skipping breakfast to sit through a bunch of long meetings normal in the Wasteland. One of the benefits of being born in the Enclave, right?
Not for Sky. Life for her amongst the clouds was, to put it simply, boring as fuck. She joined the Enclave military so she could see some action. Unfortunately for her, it turned out that military life was just as boring as civilian life. It was just a different breed of boring.
That probably would explain why she jumped at the chance for this "hearts and minds" mission that came across her desk. It also explained why she was floating around in what many consider the "ass-end of nowhere". What it did not explain, however, was why she was hiding up on a cloud watching aliens scour some camp for some reason.
"Oy! Get your asses down here! I wanna talk!"
And apparently they wanted to talk. Who knew?
"Did that thing just speak our language, boss?" asked the mare to Sky's right as her aqua feathers ruffled in agitation.
"Sounded like it, Star," Sky replied, running a hoof through her navy mane. "Better question; how did they know we were here? Any ideas? How about you, Sun Fire?"
"I'd think it would be obvious, sir," the third member of Sky's patrol stated. Sky turned her head to face the fire-red maned mare, which she took as a sign to elaborate. "They probably have something similar to our Eyes-Forward Sparkle. Hell, they're aliens. For all we know, they might have something better."
Sky Shadow paused a moment to consider her subordinate's suggestion. She was right, it should've been obvious that they'd have technology that was at least on par with the best the Enclave had.
"Or maybe the invisible one just saw us," Star suggested.
'Or, there is that,' Sky mentally conceded.
"You coming down here or what?" the alien shouted.
"We really should call this in, sir," Sun said. "High Command will want to hear about this."
"Pffft! If we do that, they'll just scrub our mission," Star retorted. "I say we go and say hi. We can tell Command about this at the debriefing. Besides, the aliens are a little too close to our rendezvous point for comfort. We should at least see if they're a threat to the mission."
Sky pondered both options for a moment. Both of her Corporals had valid points. If she didn't call it in, Command would more than likely punish all three of them severely for it. At the same time, she had to agree that Command would more than likely scrub the entire mission and, in her opinion, the Enclave needed this mission to go off without a hitch.
Also, she liked the idea of making First Contact herself. Maybe she'd end up in the history books.
With an impossibly-wide grin, she came to a decision. "Alright, we're coming down!" she shouted.
"This is a bad idea, sir," Sun protested.
"Probably," Sky conceded. With that, she leaped off the cloud and glided down towards the aliens, followed enthusiastically by Streak. Fireball took a moment to sigh and shake her head before joining her over-enthusiastic squad.
"You sure this is good idea?" Sergei asked.
"Yes," McCoy answered flatly as he took his helmet off, allowing the three unknowns to see his face. "Vren, stay cloaked and keep an eye on them. If they turn hostile, drop 'em." The Elite grunted an acknowledgement before moving off a few steps.
After George's first glance at the aliens' armor, he suppressed the urge to whistle appreciatively. It was elegant and streamlined, yet appeared to offer maximum protection while being light enough to allow flight.
As they got closer, however, he did notice a few strange design elements that he didn't agree with. The orange optics, while no doubt intimidating, made for an inviting target for any sniper worth a damn. The scorpion-like tail looked like it would be a devastating melee weapon, but at the same time would require a lot of training to be proficient in its use. It also gave an enemy another surface to hold onto the wearer in a close quarters environment. The exposed manes also provided the same disadvantage with no obvious advantage to the wearer. However, if the dominant species didn't have hands then naturally they wouldn't take grappling into consideration.
When they approached, McCoy finally got a hint of what the ponies looked like under their armor. The apparent leader, a mare he assumed based on her voice, had a navy-blue mane, and her feathers were a dark grey. The one following her had a silver mane and aqua feathers. The third pegasus had a bright red mane and feathers the color of a butane flame. Assuming that they followed the same pattern as the pegasi photos he'd seen, their coats were likely the same color as their feathers.
'Wonder why the drones didn't get a picture of these guys,' he pondered. The three pegasi stepped closer, and George noticed that the size difference for the first time. These ponies were about the same height as a Grunt.
"Hello," the apparent leader said in a cheery, feminine voice. "I'm Lieutenant Sky Shadow, New Equestrian Enclave. These two are my partners, Corporal Star Blitz and Corporal Sun Fire. Who are you, what are you, and why the hell are you here?"
George blinked, momentarily stunned by the pegasus' blunt cheeriness. "Er... Captain George McCoy, United Nations Space Command, ODST Division. Human. My friend over here is Warrant Officer Sergei Popov. We were in the neighborhood and thought we'd drop in." Behind him, Sergei facepalmed, swearing in Russian under his breath.
"Cute," the Pegasus simply stated. "Now, why are you really here, Captain?"
He shook his head and sighed in exasperation. Nobody respects a good joke. "Fair question. A couple weeks ago, a UNSC science team set up shop over here in this camp. Last week, they disappeared. We're here to find out what happened to them. You have any ideas?"
Sky stroked her chin with a hoof for a moment before replying. "In this part of the wasteland? The only thing I can think of are the slavers to the south."
"Yeah, I was afraid of that," he sighed. "How far away are they?"
"About three miles," Sky replied.
George shot Sergei a look, and the big man nodded. "Deploying Blackbird, sir," he said as he backed up a few paces before shrugging off his backpack.
"Like he was reading my damned mind," George chuckled before turning back to face the three pegasi. "If our people were captured, what're the odds they haven't been sold yet?"
"Pretty good, actually," Sun spoke up. "From what I understand, the slave trade's been in a slump ever since Red Eye was taken out. There just isn't a high demand anymore. The slavers are more than likely getting a convoy together to sell their 'merchandise' out east in Hoofington. The Society out there pays a lot of caps for their 'serfs', and I'm pretty sure an alien will fetch a high price."
The Captain mentally filed that information away for later review as Sergei came walking up, carrying a black micro air vehicle in one hand and a control pad in the other. The Blackbird looked like an actual bird, except for the small jet turbines running down its dorsal side, wheeled feet, and camera sticking out of its beak. Sergei set the small spy drone down and flicked a switch on the panel. The engines instantly whirred to life and the 'bird took off.
"Ooooh, neat!" Star exclaimed in childlike joy as she watched the device wing southwards.
"That it is," George agreed, smiling to himself. "So, what brings you three to this neck of the woods?"
"Those slavers, as a matter of fact," Sky replied. "We were going to raid them tonight with a squad of Applejack's Rangers. Hell, you crashed into our rendezvous point."
"Oops," George deadpanned.
"Yeah, oops," Sky agreed. "Anyways, this is supposed to be a big PR move for us. 'Enclave: we're not evil anymore' and all that good shit."
George quirked an eyebrow. "Whaddya mean 'anymore'?"
All three of the Pegasi gave off an exasperated sigh. "Long story," Sky replied as she rubbed her forehead. "Let's just say that there's a reason we're the 'New Enclave'."
George opened his mouth to ask for her to elaborate, but thought better of it. His priority was the science team. He could get a history lesson later.
"Boss, found something!" Tony yelled out.
"On my way!" he replied as he turned on his heels. "C'mon, Lieutenant. Lets go meet the rest of my team." He took a step, and paused. "Speaking of which, I think we've established that they're not hostile. Introduce yourself, Vren."
As McCoy continued walking, the air on his left side shimmered as the sangheili uncloaked. To the pegasi's credit, they didn't even flinch when he appeared. Vren nodded towards the Pegasi before falling in behind the Captain.
Sky took a couple of steps to follow the Captain before pausing for a moment. "Star, head back to the rendezvous point and lead the Rangers here when they arrive." Star gave a quick salute before taking off and flying back towards where the pods landed.
"Sun, with me." Having given her orders, Sky followed Captain McCoy at a trot, while Sun took up position behind her. The Captain wasn't setting a fast pace, and she caught up with him in seconds. "So, is your friend gonna introduce himself, or do we just call him 'hey you'?"
The new alien snorted in amusement. "Special Operations Commander Vren, Swordsman of Clan Kilkar. Sangheili." Sky remained silent, waiting for the alien- Vren, to elaborate, but he did not deign to do so. She shook her head, supressing a frustrated growl.
"Fascinating," Sun whispered over their private com. "I wouldn't expect a being with that mouth structure to be physically capable of speaking our language so fluently."
Sky just rolled her eyes. Sun wasn't one to normally get distracted. That was Star Blitz's schtick.
Putting her subordinate's odd behavior out of her mind, Sky took a look around the camp she was being led through. She could see that it had been raided by a hostile force right off the bat. Judging from the wide swath of bullet holes in the structures and lack of blood, though, whoever attacked wasn't aiming to kill. She also saw two more of these humans apparently scavenging the camp as well. George made a silent hand signal and Vren went to join them.
He led her and Sun into a semi-permanent structure, where she saw a fifth human sitting behind a flat terminal. This one had its helmet sitting to the side, and Sky could see a sheen of gel in its black hair.
"Hey boss. I see the Imperial Stormtrooper look is pretty much universal. Who's our new friend?"
"Sky, meet our sniper. Gunnery Sergeant Tony DiNardo, meet Lieutenant Sky Shadow and Corporal Sun Fire," George said.
"Hello Sergeant," Sky replied.
Tony's eyes lit up and he smiled. "Piacere di conoscerti, signora."
Sky blinked, unable to understand what the hell the buck just said. "Excuse me?"
George clenched his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tony... " he growled, "chase skirts on your own time. What'v ya got?"
Tony blinked. "Right boss, strictly business. Anyways, I had to actually search for a working computer. Whatever happened here, someone took anything valuable that wasn't nailed down or locked up. I managed to get into a strongbox that had this monitor-
"Get to the point," George interrupted.
"... Right. Anyways, the local mainframe is still in one piece, so I logged on and found... nothing."
George glared at Tony. "I thought you said-"
"I know what I said, boss, hear me out," Tony pleaded. "I found no notes, no record, not even a single picture on the mainframe. Then, I checked the logs for the mainframe itself and found that everything on it had been deleted on the same day that the eggheads went missing." Tony shot George a knowing frown. "What does that tell you, boss?"
George contemplated a moment before replying. "Cole Protocol," he growled. "Son of a bitch."
"I'm sorry, but what's that?" Sun asked curiously.
"Standing UNSC order," Tony replied. "In a nutshell in the event of capture, we're obligated to destroy all sensitive information. Troop deployments, weapons development, colony locations, stuff like that. What's strange is that this camp shouldn't have any of that information. Why initiate the protocol?"
"Because, in a roundabout way, it does tell us what happened to them," George responded with a sigh.
Vren chose that moment to poke his head through the doorway. "Captain, Sergei reports four more locals headed this way led by Corporal Star. They'll be here in about ten minutes. Also, he thinks he found the slaver camp."
"Perfect," George muttered. "Tell him to escort them up here." Vren nodded and ducked buck out. "Tony, is there a meeting room here?"
"I can set something up, yeah."
"Do it. Get Frank and Sam to help," he ordered. Tony jumped up, grabbed his helmet, and sprinted out. "Star, think you could go and meet your colleague and fill him in on the basics?"
Star nodded. "Good idea. Cross isn't exactly the most levelheaded buck. What're you going to do?"
George sighed and patted his helmet. "I gotta make a call."
It took George five minutes to give his report.
"You did what!?" Dr. Montgomery yelled over the com line. "Captain, you were supposed to contact me before you talked to the locals! What the hell were you thinking?"
"Sorry, Doc," George said sheepishly. "Bad luck on our part. They were right on top of us when we dropped. Besides, I needed information, and they were available."
Helen didn't answer right away, though George could hear a few angered mutterings over the line. He had to admit that, for a civvie, she had a vivid vocabulary.
After a few seconds, Helen spoke up. "Okay, I'll accept that. Now, explain what you're thinking with this joint-op you mentioned?"
"It's simple, Doc," George replied. "All evidence points to the science team getting captured by slavers. Now, the locals were already planning a raid, so I figure it'd be a good idea to aid them. Pool our resources."
"Makes sense," she admitted. "Are you sure it's a good idea?"
McCoy thought it over a moment, before committing. "Yes, Ma'am, it is."
He heard a sigh over the com. "Very well, Captain. I don't like it, but if you're sure, then you have my support. Anything I can do up here?"
"Yeah, get a medevac prepped. We don't know what condition the eggheads will be in when they're rescued."
"Hopefully nothing all the King's horses can't handle," she quipped. "Want me to send a 'Hog with the Pelican?"
"Please do."
"Alright, I've got work to do on my end. ONI out." Unceremoniously, the com line clicked off
George took a deep, relaxing breath. One fire put out who knows how many more to go. He was relieved that Helen took the news so well.
"Captain," Tony spoke over the com. "The Rangers are here, and their leader wants to talk to you. Might want to hurry, sir. He's not real patient."
"On my way, Sergeant." With that, George steeled himself and stepped out of the tent he was occupying. He didn't necessarily need the privacy, but he felt safer without someone listening in. George looked around the desolate camp and spotted where the others were. His entire squad, plus the pegasi and four newcomers were all standing around a makeshift conference table near the middle of camp.
As he approached, George's first impression of the newcomers could've been summed up in one word: big. Clad head to hoof in steel armor, the top of the supposed leader would come up to George's chin. The pony was broad chested, and George guessed that it possessed strength that could overpower anything short of a SPARTAN.
The armor was another matter. It resembled a gleaming suit worn by the knights of old. Although flashy, it looked like it could take a lot of punishment. As George got closer, he could also see that the armor was decorated with red trim and had three apples painted along the flanks. To round everything off, the draft pony was armed with a pair of large gatling guns that were strapped to the armor's backplate in a V.
Two of the other newcomers wore similar armor, though less shiny. One was armed with a single gatling gun, while the other had a 25mm cannon. It was the fourth newcomer, a unicorn, that drew his attention. Possessing a lime-green coat and a white mane reminiscent of Einstein, it wore piecemeal armor that looked like someone sewed metal plates onto clothing. Its horn was glowing a pale yellow, and a clipboard enwrapped in a similar glow was levitating in front of the unicorn's face. George nearly stumbled, but recovered quick enough that he was only mildly embarrassed.
He decided to chalk up the unicorn's telekinetic ability as something to investigate later. Maybe the science team will know more.
As he arrived at the hastily set-up conference table, George could practically feel the massive pony glaring at him from under his helmet.
"So you're the leader of this squad of vagabonds," the steel-clad pony said in a deep, baritone voice that was modulated through his helmet's speakers.
George snorted in amusement at the stallion's assessment of his team. "Captain George McCoy, UNSC Orbital Drop Shock Troopers. You are?"
"I'm Star Paladin Cross of Applejack's Rangers," the stallion replied. "Now, let me just say that I do not like you, Captain."
McCoy blinked. "I'm sorry?"
"It's nothing personal," Cross replied apologetically. "You and your men are complications to my plan, and I do not like complications. Complications get good ponies killed, and the lives of those under my command, even the fucking featherbrains, are more precious to me than good Pre-War wine."
McCoy nodded. "I can respect that, sir," he admitted. "Why don't you share your plan so we can hash something out?"
"No need," he said as he shook his head. "My men and the Enclave are more than enough to take on a band of half-starved, poorly equipped slavers."
"That may be true, sir," George said, "but those slavers also have our people there-"
"Allegedly," Cross interrupted.
"- and that means that we're going to hit that camp whether you like it or not," he finished without missing a beat. "The only question is, are we going to work together, or are we going to get in each other's way?"
Cross didn't say anything at first. George hoped that it was because the massive stallion was actually thinking things through. He wasn't lying; George planned to hit that camp no matter what the Star Paladin said. He had a mission to complete, and he would do so at any cost; especially with the lives of UNSC citizens on the line.
Luckily, however, Star Paladin Cross saw reason. "Alright, what do you have in mind?"
George smiled. "It's simple. Sergei, do we have a holo-emitter rigged up?"
"Yes sir," the big man replied.
"Good, put up the Blackbird's view of the Slaver Camp. This will be real simple..."
The slaver camp was located at the end of a box canyon with the entrance to the compound facing west. According to Cross, the camp was built around the ruins of a Pre-War Royal Guard training facility.
Now, however, there was nothing left of the old facility save a large stone bunker, half buried in the rocky ground. Supposedly, the structure served as the slavers' headquarters and barracks. This was supported by the number of ponies coming and going from the bunker at any given time.
Surrounding the camp was a circular chain link fence. It wasn't tall, only six feet at most, but was topped with loops of razor wire and fortified in places with metal plates and plywood. Described as "standard wasteland fortifications" by Cross, it was cheap, but effective.
Along the back of the compound was the only other structure in the compound; a large, rickety-looking barn. According to intelligence supplied by a freed slave, that was where the "merchandise" was supposedly stored. It wasn't that far from the fence, but anyone approaching from the front entrance would be exposed.
Which was why George decided to come in from the rear. It took him and his men nearly three hours to get into position. With him were Sam and Frank. Cross and his Rangers were approaching the front gate via the road, along with Sergei. Their part was to be a distraction while George's team infiltrated the camp and freed the slaves. The Pegasi's part was to act as close air support for the Heavies as they made their assault.
Tony was... somewhere; hopefully with a good view of the camp. Outside of the first shot of the battle, his job wasn't to play sniper, though. Rather, his job was to spot for the infiltration team and warn them of incoming hostiles.
As for Vren, the Elite was supposed to already be inside the camp, confirming the location of the captured slaves and securing them once the battle started. With his active camouflage, it was a relatively simple task.
"In position," George reported, hiding behind one of the many boulders littering the ground outside the camp. It was an hour before dawn, the perfect time to stage an attack. The night guards were tired and groggy, and the rest of the camp would either still be asleep or in the process of waking up.
"So are we," Cross replied. Thankfully, the Equestrians' communication system was similar enough to the UNSC's that tying them in wasn't too difficult.
"Roger that, got a good view from my nest," Tony chimed in.
"Ready as well," Sky confirmed from a nearby cloud. When the pegasi demonstrated that particular ability, it nearly blew George's mind.
"I'm inside, Captain," Vren reported, his tone all business. "I can confirm the presence of slaves inside the barn, including the science team. One of them is being led to the central compound by a guard."
"I see 'em, Boss. A woman and a stallion." Tony confirmed. "Want me to take the cocksucker out?"
"Negative, Sergeant. Hold your fire." George ordered. "We don't want her in the middle of camp when the fighting breaks out. Find another target."
There was a momentary pause over the line before Tony chimed in again. "Got it. How about a winged unicorn?"
George leaned out of his hiding spot and zoomed in with his VISR. He could just make out Tony's potential target, a blue-maned purple specimen, standing on top of the bunker. Not exactly the best location for an opening salvo. He was about to tell Tony to find a target closer to the gate when Cross added his two cents.
"Sergeant," he said. George could just detect an undercurrent of fear in the stallion's voice. "That's an alicorn, and they are very dangerous. If you don't take that cunt out in one shot, we are going to have a hard time."
George hesitated a moment. So far, the Star Paladin had been brash, almost fearless. If he thought that an alicorn was such a game changer, George realized that he should definitely take his advice.
"Affirmative," he said. "Line up your shot and fire on my mark. Lets give our scientist time to get somewhere relatively safe." With that, the Captain diverted his attention to the woman being led to the bunker. He almost missed her, as her guard had already stepped into the entrance. When she entered, the Captain waited another three minutes before keying his mic. "Send it."
He was moving before he heard the sharp *crack* of the sniper rifle firing. "Tango down," he heard Tony report, followed by the zipper-like noise of the two Rangers' miniguns and the booming report of the other's grenade launcher. Moments later the high-pitched scream of the Enclave's energy weapons joined in.
"Vren, move in and secure the pens," George ordered ad he arrived at the fence. The Elite didn't respond, save for an acknowledgement light on George's HUD winking green. So far, they hadn't been spotted yet. All was well.
The fence itself wouldn't pose too much of a problem, thanks to one of their new toys. Nicknamed "rust-in-a-can" by Tony, it was a simple aerosol can containing two chemicals with names as long as your arm. When mixed in aerosol, the chemicals form a compound that corrodes just about anything on contact. It even came with a manufacturer's guarantee of "a thousand years of corrosion in ten seconds flat".
George sprayed the miracle substance onto the fence in a circular pattern just large enough for him to crouch through. After giving the chemical a few seconds to do its work, he reached out and pushed the fence inward. A round section fell through with only minimal resistance.
"Captain, I have secured the slave pens," Vren reported.
"Copy that. On our way," George replied as he crept through the hole he made, followed by Sam and Frank. Once all three of them had made their way inside, they crouch-walked the ten meters between the fence and the barn.
"Hold tight, slaver inbound," Tony reported. George and his team dropped prone. "Ok, he's headed to the barn door. He's all yours, Vren."
A few heartbeats later, Vren's light winked green and the infiltration team continued their slow advance. Any noise they made was covered by the commotion from the front gate.
The infiltration team didn't run into any more trouble and were soon ducking into the barn proper. The first thing to hit George was the stench. Rotting hay, excrement, and death competed to overwhelm his helmet's air filters. He looked around the barn and immediately saw the source of the miasma.
The barn was just one big room, with a single pen taking up the majority of floor space. Stuffed inside was the missing science team alongside a score of ponies; a mix of earth ponies and unicorns. The floor was lined with hay that had long since rotted. A "bathroom" stood off in the fir right corner, while the other corner held pony corpses in various stages of decomposition.
"Helljumpers! Oh thank god!" one of the scientists exclaimed. "I was starting to lose hope until we saw one of our captors decapitated by an Elite. I never thought I'd be glad to see one of them."
"Vren, get the door," George ordered. With one deft slash of a plasma blade, the door's lock sheared off, allowing the door to swing open. "Let's get you people out of here."
"We can't!" the captive blurted out as he tapped his neck. George leaned close to get a good look and saw that all of the captives were wearing heavy collars. "These collars are rigged to explode. If we leave the camp, boom!"
George swore. Frank didn't even wait for an order as he rushed forward and into the pen. He knelt down and examined the device around the scientist's neck.
"Shaped charge," he muttered. "low yield... Radio detonated... Damn it, the collars are linked!"
"Meaning?" Sam asked.
"Meaning that if one goes off, they all go off," Frank explained.
George swore again and pounded his fist against the bars, startling a few of the ponies in the process. "Can you disable it?"
Frank turned to give George a look that'd probably translate to "who the fuck do you think you're talking to" if he weren't wearing a helmet. "It'll take a while, but yes. I'll have to work around the detonator. Ten minutes tops. Five if I rush."
"Can't you just take the fuckers off?" Sam asked.
"I wish," Frank replied exasperatedly. "If I do, they blow. It's like a dead man's switch."
George nodded to himself before keying his mic. "Cross, how are things on your end?"
"The gate's breached but we're bogged down!" he yelled over the noise of automatic fire and explosive ordinance. "They've got turrets just outside the bunker and they're loaded with AP ammo. We're pinned down, Captain. The Pegasi are swinging around for another pass but I don't know how much good they'll be."
"Star Paladin," Tony broke in, "how tough are those turrets?"
"Not very. A good solid hit will take them out. Why?"
In response, the sharp crack of Tony's rifle rang out. "Alright, that's one down," the sniper reported. "Don't have a good angle on the other one. Moving to a new position."
"Good thinking, Tony. Vren and I'll swing in from behind and take the bunker. Think you can hold out, Cross?"
Cross just laughed. "Of course we can, Captain. What do we look like, a bunch of-" He was cut off by the shrill discharge of an energy weapon. "Alright, looks like those featherheads are good for something! They took out the other turret! Rangers, advance!"
"That's our cue to move, Vren," George said as he cut his mic. "Sam, stay here and cover Frank." With that, George and Vren headed out the barn.
"Try and find the fucker with the detonator, Captain. It'll at least give me some breathing room," Frank called out after the two.
George took a moment to assess the situation. All of the slavers were currently trapped either on top of the bunker or in it. Cross and his Rangers were steadily advancing under heavy fire, but their armor easily deflected any incoming shots
The pegasi were circling overhead like vultures, occasionally strafing the entrenched slavers. The slavers for their part were doing their best to keep out of the line of fire. To their credit they exhibited excellent fire discipline and use of cover and concealment. They were obviously well trained at some point in their lives. Against any other opponent, the poor ponies would've had a good chance.
"In position, boss," Tony reported.
"Weapons free. Take those cocksuckers down."
Tony didn't answer verbally, preferring that his rifle do the talking. Four shots left four slavers incapacitated. This proved too much for the slavers, and they began to break ranks and scatter. Unfortunately, that left them wide open. Bright beams from the pegasi and grenades from the rangers rained down upon their heads, devastating their ranks.
It was over in an instant. Not one slaver made it off that roof. Scattered by the grenade explosions, bloody body parts began raining down all over the camp. A mare's decapitated head fell right at George's feet. He kicked it out of his path without a second thought.
"Clear topside," Sky said. "Initiating BARCAP."
"Roger that. Tony, keep your eyes open. You see a cocksucker, you take them out ASAP. Frank, how're things on your end?"
"He's a little busy, sir," Sam reported in his place. "Says it'll take a little longer than he anticipated. One of the captives says that there should be a master key of sorts in the bunker. It should disable the collars."
"Copy that. Vren, let's clear that bunker. We still got one more scientist that needs rescuing."
The pair rushed forward. So far, the UNSC hadn't seen much fighting today. Oh sure, Sergei was mixing it up with the Rangers, and Tony had gotten five kills on his own, but that was it. George was getting a little antsy. It didn't help that hings were almost going too smoothly.
As George and Vren got closer to the bunker, the Captain noticed for the first time just how massive the structure was. At least twenty meters stuck out of the ground. A narrow ramp wrapped around the outside, allowing access to the roof. At the base of the ramp was a large wooden door. It was tall enough that a Sergei could enter without ducking his head.
George waved the big Russian over. "Breach, bang, clear," he declared. "Get on the right side of the door, Vren and I'll get left. You open it, I'll throw in a flashbang and we enter. Let's hurry this up." The three got into position. George pulled out a flashbang as Sergei reached across to open the door.
It exploded outwards, showering everything within ten meters in a shower of wooden flinders. George and Sergei shielded their faces with their arms as shrapnel flew everywhere.
"The fuck was that?" Tony asked. George looked around to see where everyone ended up, and his heart skipped a beat as he laid eyes on what caused the door to explode.
At first glance, he thought it was a Brute Chieftain. It was certainly big enough, and it carried a big hammer in one hand. A closer look, however, put that fear to rest. Its legs were shaped more like an Elite's, except they ended in hooves instead of talons. The monster's muscular body was clad in armor made out of some sort of green ceramic-composite, much like human-made body armor. The roman-esque helmet it wore was open faced, revealing a bovine snout. Bulls horns protruded from the sides of the helmet
And it was pissed.
"Moooooooooooooooo!" the minotaur roared. Moving quicker than anything that size had right to move, the beast dashed towards the Rangers. It sighted the one wielding the grenade launcher and, with a golf swing, sent the stallion flying with one hit from its hammer.
"Waste it!" George yelled as he opened fire with his assault rifle, sending burst after burst into the minotaur. Each shot simply bounced off of its body armor. Vren wasn't having better luck with his M7, and he discarded the weapon as he cloaked. Sergei's LMG got a few lucky hits on the beast's legs, but it didn't seem to care.
Cross and his remaining Paladin opened fire as well, but as close as they were, there wasn't much they could do. The minotaur swung his hammer again, and caught a paladin in the side, severely denting his armor and sending the stallion careening into the bunker wall.
"Get out of there, Cross!" George yelled as he reloaded. The minotaur tried for the hat trick, but the massive stallion jumped back far enough to evade the weapon. Showing the greater part of valor, Cross retreated from the melee.
Four sniper rounds pinged off the minotaur's helmet, staggering the monster. "The fuck is that helmet made of? Stubbornite?"
Behind the minotaur, Vren activated his twin blades and lunged for its back. As if sensing its peril, the beast sidestepped to the right. Showing impressive skill honed by years spent on the battlefield, Vren diverted one of his blades and nicked the minotaur's arm.
The sangheili swordsman rolled as he landed, and the minotaur' dropped its hammer clutched its arm as it roared in pain. In one fluid motion, Vren activated a plasma grenade, pirouetted, and lobbed the flaming orb. It stuck to the minotaurs injured left arm, and exploded in a bright blue flame.
Its arm was severed, and a gaping wound opened in the minotaur's side, yet the monster not only still lived, but had strength to remain on its hooves.
George hesitated, wondering how the hell anything could survive that. This moment of doubt gave the minotaur enough time to recover, and it set its sights on the stunned Captain. Without bothering to pick up the hammer, the minotaur lowered its head and charged. George barely had time to dodge, but managed to dive to his right at the last second.
Turning as he rolled, George recovered as quickly as possible, brought his weapon up, and put ten rounds into the minotaur's wounded side.
That did it. The minotaur took one more step and, with a groan, collapsed. It was dead before it hit the ground, but George wasn't about to take any chances. He emptied his magazine into the monster's wound, followed by Vren simply walking up to the downed beast and slicing its head off.
"Son of a bitch," George breathed. "I've seen Brutes go down with less punishment."
"He was a worthy foe," Vren said admiringly. "Now, let's go check on the last captive."
George blinked, then nodded. He waved Sergei over, and the three of them sprinted to the door. They stepped inside and saw that the interior split off into two passages. George waved Vren over to check the right-hand passage as he headed for the left. The Elite cloaked and made his way through the door. He reappeared a moment later.
"Just a small kitchen."
Vren rejoined the humans as they entered the remaining passage. They encountered an open stairwell that went down about three flights. George primed his flashbang and dropped it down the middle of the stairs. It bounced once at the bottom before going off with a loud noise and bright flash.
They all rushed down the stairs, scanning for any potential targets.
Nothing. They didn't encounter a single soul as they reached the bottom. The only thing there were empty glass bottles and an open doorway.
George led the way through the door. A few yards down, there was a single closed door on their right. As they approached, George kicked the door open and scanned the room inside. Again, there was nobody home. Just empty beds and a floor littered with garbage.
After clearing the room, the team made their way towards the end of the hallway. They didn't encounter another door until the end. George tried the knob, but found that it was locked. He waved Vren forwards, and the Elite simply cut through the lock with his blade.
With that done, George kicked the door in. He nearly gagged at the sight. The entire room was coated in blood and viscera. A dead pony lay atop a table in the center, its chest pried open and great hunks of flesh looked to have been bitten off it.
George first thought the room was a slaughterhouse, but one thing stood out. A king-size bed rested against the wall. Like the rest of the room, it too was covered in gore. Atop the sheets was the remaining scientist. She was nude and soaked in blood. George rushed over and placed a finger on her neck, searching for a pulse.
It was thready, but it was there. The Captain breathed a sigh of relief. "Let's get her out of here." Carefully, he picked her up in a fireman carry.
"Sam," he said into his mic, "Call the Cape Horn and tell them we have wounded."
"On it."
"Frank, how're the collars coming?"
"Almost done, actually," he reported. "Just got one left."
George nodded to himself and relaxed a bit. The mission was a success. "Alright, let's get our asses out of here. It's been a long night."
Author's Note
That's right, folks, the Enclave aint all bad this time around. That being said, they ain't all good either.
I hope you all liked the bit of action in this chapter.
