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The launch alarms continued to blare while other squads hurried to their dropships, DR-4 Vikings loading up into their release bays as soon as all their troops were aboard.
Markus took initiative to speed up a bit ahead of the senior ÆSIR, moving quickly to the cockpit by way of the rear entry bay while Faala joined him in the secondary seat. "Faala and I have this, Sergeant Major. Wireless connecting Macros into Goshawk One-Seven-Niner, prepping all launching systems now."
"What happened to mission brief?" Xander questioned as the rest of ARC-Nine loaded into the transport ship's bay and set their weapons into the carrier slots beside each of them. "Were they really not expecting a hot welcome when we got here?"
"We already knew what to expect," Serge responded as he pulled the overhead bracing locks down over his shoulders. It took a moment, as Xander and Edea locked their visors and thus their gaze on him, that he noticed the Sergeant Major and remembered they were not in their usual team dynamic. "Apologies, Sergeant. We were the early recon team that scouted the enemy base on FV693 a couple months ago. Large numbers of Kromus are expected, and possibly some Jiralhanae pirate groups."
Normally now would be the time to remind Serge of their classified status. But as Markus had already informed Sergeant MacUspaig, vaguely, of their previous operations, having acknowledged that this was far from their first actual combat drop, admitting they had done the advance recon, and thus why they had been assigned this operation, wasn't saying too much more than simple logic would lead to.
And Edea was highly suspecting that the elder ÆSIR had already worked out that they were not exactly a normal ops team, even for a group of "second generation ÆSIRs".
Post by Alasdair MacUspaig on Jan 14, 2021 0:05:47 GMT
"Aye then," Alasdair grunted in acknowledgement as he moved to take his seat, not bothering to say much beyond that for the moment. While he could be loud in the middle of a firefight, the minutes that preceded the violence were typically ones spent speaking only as much as needed. In truth, it made sense in hindsight that ARC-Nine had been the source of what intel they had. It also raised further questions regarding just what sort of unit he'd been assigned to work with, but the older Sergeant shunted those questions aside. DAW wasn't an organization that liked too many questions where they weren't relevant to one's mission, no matter how odd a situation might seem. If it came that he needed to know, then he'd be informed, and not until then.
"Nae tae pry too much, but onie notion as tae why Jiralhanae would be allyin' wi th' bugs? Seems a bit of an odd pairin', if ye ask me," Alasdair remarked as he settled into his seat, ready for the craft to get moving, fixing his gaze on Edea from behind his own visored helmet. "Mair tae th' point, do we know what groups in particular?" Piracy among the Jiralhanae clans was hardly unheard of, though it was particularly bloody when compared to other species, such as humans, but some groups were worse than others. One, which hadn't been heard from since the days of the Second Machine War, was rumored to have been so dangerous that they had once posed a threat to actual battle fleets, though he didn't much expect that that group would suddenly appear like some fucked up fairy tale nightmare.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
As both Federation ships began to alter their course and prepare their weapons, a signal would crackle to life - uncoded, and over open communication channels. A voice that seemed to somewhat struggle with English but that spoke it well enough to be understood would be carried across them for all of a moment.
"Federation. You do not belon-" Only a handful of words would escape the inhuman mouth of whoever it was speaking before the larger ship of the two would open fire with its primary weapon... and unlike the warning shots let loose by the heavy corvette more than twice its mass the MAC round was fired to kill, the round slamming into the shields of the larger ship. Flaring a near incandescent white as opposed to its usual blue and on the verge of failure from the one round the SDV corvette would begin to veer off course, aft thrusters blazing as it moved as quickly as it could to disengage and move outside of the smaller ship's primary firing arc. The smaller light cruiser, meanwhile, would likewise break to move - albeit in the direction opposite the SDV, peeling off to place itself between the Kromus destroyer that was still firing into empty space. As the comm lines squelched off in a hurry following the direct attack, the smaller frigate closest the planet would finally cease playing games. While initially it had been working with the fighters to corner and ground the gunship, only a second more would pass - fighters breaking off and to the side, only for a single bolt of red plasma to tear through the newly vacated space to vaporize the rear half of the Elegy, the rest of the ship tumbling to start its violent and unprotect burn through the tropical world's atmosphere before the earlier broadcast crackled back to life.
"This will be your last and only warning. Our business is not with you. Leave now and you will not be pursued." The voice continued, any communication officer worth their salt finally able to trace the signal back to the source of its broadcast if they so wished - notably, the Kromus vessel that was still ignoring the Federation ships even as the small frigate closest broke off to vanish into slipspace, the fighters falling back towards the destroyer to form a defensive screen in advance of the incoming Federation craft. Finally, as those words were being spoken, the destroyer seemed to find what it was looking for. Rapid fire plasma shots would go wide until a chance few seemed to glance off a shimmer in space, grazing blows on an energy shield - only for the bolts to then become focused, pounding away at the cloaked ship with an unbridled ferocity as a red glow began to build between the forward prongs of the Kromus vessel.
There was undeniable confusion on the bridge of the Hephaestus. Normally they'd be expecting any Kromus affiliated vessel to simply fire on them with an intent to kill. One didn't often see older Sangheili vessels in the company of Kromus destroyers either, or other pirate groups working with the Kromus. And Kromus vessels were not at all known for warning shots.
Which is what led to much confusion in the various dropships even as they prepared to launch.
"That wasn't a Kromus talking."
"Keep your cool, Serge. I'm still waiting for updates from Four-Four-Seven."
"Chief, we saw Eedee's feed from that recon. There were Brutes and Sangheili with Subject Weavel. If this is some kind of combine between the Kromus High Command and pirate groups-"
"Faala, we can't guess what the hell is going on. All we know is they're not firing at us to kill even after Hephaestus took a straight shot at them."
"Chief Petty Officer Bram, I have info relay from Aurora Four-Four-Seven. Drop operations are suspended at this time due to uncertainty of the current situation. Captain Eriksen, however, has added a message for us to launch and approach under active stealth conditions, there is a Galactic Federation Marine unit that will meet us at the designated rendezvous point."
The oldest and highest ranking of the ARC-Nine group hesitated as he turned his head slowly back to his team and their 'advisor'. He had two sets of orders, one of which was to undermine the first set as given by the ship's Aurora Unit. To be fair...that was a little more of the Advanced Warfare operations style they were used to working under.
"All other drops are suspended, but Captain Eriksen gave us specific orders to go black and head down to rendezvous with a GalFed Marine unit." Markus turned his head toward Faala, who was waiting for her further orders. "My gut tells me something is up here, and I wanna know what it is too. Get us going and make us disappear, Faala."
A sharp nod was all she responded with as Faala began tapping at a combination of holographic and console mounted keys and switches. "Going black and plotting the rendezvous course, Chief. Arrival in ten."
Post by Alasdair MacUspaig on Jan 19, 2021 1:17:40 GMT
Alasdair was hardly a stranger to surprise developments during a mission, but to his recollection, he'd never encountered anything quite like this. The increasingly questionable origins of ARC-Nine was one thing. That particular riddle seemed obvious enough with little enough thought, even if it was equally obvious that it not be verbalized unless relevant. DAW was always up to all manner of clever things. The behavior being exhibited by these Kromus, however, was another matter entirely. There was, to his knowledge, no recorded incidents of the usually unrelentingly hostile species showing such restraint, especially after being fired upon. It was enough to quell the ÆSIR's normally undying hatred for their kind. Evidently, he was far from alone in that line of thinking, he mused.
"Right then, so that's a fookin' twist an' a haf," Alasdair grunted following the announcement that they were making a covert deployment. "Donnae s'ppose ye hae onie thoughts on what this is about? Ye've been before, ye said, aye? Ne'er seen a Kromus nae shoot sommat what wannae themselves. An' workin' wi Jiralhanae? Bloody madhouse, sounds like."
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
The immediate recall of the Federation fighters that had launched in response to the ships encountered in orbit would put a halt to further hostilities - at least for the moment. As the Federation vessels fell into a holding pattern and the fighters fell back to form a defensive screen the two Covenant-era vessels that had broken to intercept would do the same, settling to hold position between the damaged Kromus destroyer and the new interlopers. The SDV corvette would start looping back around to rejoin the smaller light cruiser despite having taken a direct hit from one of the smaller ship's MAC rounds - and as a handful of minutes passed the ship's strained shields would lightly flare again and fade back into a transparent barrier as they began to recharge. The only ship of similar design that would continue to move would be the CAR frigate that had been pursuing the former Federation aligned dropship - target destroyed, the frigate would move to break from orbit and away from the planet before being enveloped in a blue flash as it jumped into slipspace and presumably out of system.
The destroyer, though, would not sit idle as its counterparts were. Rapid fire bolts of crimson plasma would continue to pelt the cloaked cruiser that was by all indications nearly twice its size, although the shots were not intended to damage - rather, they merely served to "paint" the larger ship, the rapid flares of shield impacts serving to keep the vessel visible. No, the shot intended to kill would be made apparent a moment later as the red glow towards the bow of the destroyer finally materialized into action, a red lance of pure destruction reaching out a moment later and crossing the distance between the two ships in the blink of an eye. Just as quickly as it closed the distance the shields of the larger ship would overload and fail as the energy projector cut through them like paper, plasma punching through the hull as the beam was swept vertically in relation to its length to bisect the cruiser much as its former counterpart had been.
Cloaking would flicker and fail, revealing a nightmarish amalgamation of spiked chitin and metal as secondary explosions pockmarked the hull and exposed internal compartments to vacuum. Far from done, the destroyed would resume its bombardment as plasma cannons began to vaporized chunks of the larger ship... even as what appeared to be escape pods began launching to the planet below. Quick to react, the Kromus fighters that had returned to screen the destroyer would break and give chase, blasting pod after pod as they fell towards the planet's surface.
Their own fighters hung in a defensive screen even as the two cloaked dropships would race away from their respective ships. Aboard the stealth equipped Goshawk, ARC-Nine and their ÆSIR companion would get a good look at the show made of the ships of unknown affiliation. Whatever was going on, these ships were not interested in a fight with the Federation, even being that the swarming fighters were Kromus builds.
"Are we really seeing this?" Xander whispered as the dropships kept their own coms-silence on their way to the planet. "Those are Kromus fighters and an old Plunder-class destroyer...but are those-"
"Database confirms Twenty-five Hundreds era of older Covenant design, though clearly with upgrades and more recent refits done since four hundred and thirty years ago." The Macro that was loaded in a link between Markus' armor and the Goshawk's main computer paused as it assessed further the information it was absorbing. "Interesting. Chief Bram, there is a Eskradion distress beacon from the smaller gunship's wreckage, while similar beacons are sounding from the two dissected hulks."
"Eskradion?" Faala tilted her head slightly, and despite the silvery-blue visor, she was clearly not sure how the pieces fit together. "Didn't some merc from the...what do they call themselves, Marlos, Magnodars-"
"Mandalorians, Shipshand Gednamin." The other junctioned Macro AI would chime in as well. "A freelance vessel reported to Sol Sector and Federation authorities that they had arrived at the Eskradion Colony a number of weeks ago, and found the planet crust torn open at the primary colony region."
Edea was silent, but she lowered her head as she listened. There had been some talk of some kind of planetary assault not far from Sol Sector's borders, and it seemed that everyone who had been on the planet was dead now. Only a few dozen of the Eskradion had been off planet, and were on Daiban awaiting any news of what would happen now.
"Something tells me that those Bugs bit something they couldn't chew."
The two stealthed dropships continued on, avoiding the "Covenant" forces as they maneuvered to appear as if they were part of the descending debris. The flickers of compressed plasma against their shielding almost gave them away, but then they were within the atmosphere and racing for their landing zone.
Post by Alasdair MacUspaig on Jan 24, 2021 19:08:01 GMT
The elder ÆSIR stared in silence as he observed the events beyond their dropship, distantly noting that his comrades seemed as baffled by this pairing, and the decidedly targeted hostility in striking the Eskradion vessel, yet leaving the actual military vessels of the Galactic Federation and Terran Confederation untouched, even going so far as to warn them away. There were definitely some unanswered questions in need of examination on the planet below, he though to himself as he settled back in his seat.
"Aye, seems like it," Alasdair muttered at he watched the last few pods meet their end. "Th' fuck did they even dae, though? Fer that matter, what sort of idjit picks a fight wi Jiralhanae and Kromus at th' same time without a military tae deal wi them?" He shook his head then, falling into silence once more. Hopefully, the answers they sought would be found on the planet below. He was not at all fond of unknowns of this magnitude, and while Kromus were one thing, Jiralhanae were quite another to tangle with, if that was what the future held.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
The several minute flight down would be a largely uneventful one for the Goshawks. Heavy winds in the upper atmosphere, leading to multiple bouts of turbulence - increasingly distant flashes of red in the sky above as the Kromus destroyed continued to blast apart chunks of its most recent victim, others the result of pursuing fighter craft intercepting escape pods before they could make landfall on the verdant planet surface below. As the dropships finally began to close in on their final landing coordinates a look out any windows present on the craft would provide a brief look into the occupants' near future. Verdant, tropical lowlands soggy with muck and water, one step short of being more traditional swamps and estuaries found on other worlds - a fertile mix of dense compost and silt under less than half a meter of water in most places bar the occasional deep plunge. In the far distance to the south, the rapidly approaching storm that had been seen from orbit would hint at a far uglier picture in the near future, the distant booms of thunder and powerful gusts of wind above tree top height serving as its harbingers.
Only a small handful of kilometers off in the distance would be more elevated foothills of a distant mountain range, atop one particularly rocky and steep incline rested the dilapidated Federation listening post. Even a cursory scan, however, would indicate that a number of repairs and additions had been made, structures fortified with hastily added armor and reinforcements. Nestled within armored barricades and behind deployed infantry shields would be five modified Wraith heavy tanks, three of the standard artillery design and two of the anti-aircraft variety... all likewise sporting the crimson and steel color scheme of the ships in orbit. Most notably, however, would be the large circular pad in the courtyard, easily eighty meters across - and clearly not of Federation or Kromus design.
Of more immediate concern, however, would be the areas surrounding the small mountain on which the listening post was built. Whilst none of the escape pods from the most recently destroyed Eskradion cruiser had managed to make landfall, evidence pointed to the idea that they had not been the first to attempt it. Numerous sections of the swamplike terrain had been razed with what one could only assume to be plasma fire, leaving steaming bald patches in the tropical landscape around the edges of which fires still persisted in defiance of the damp climate. Even still the occasional flashes of gunfire could be detected below the forest canopies closest to the mountain, although what sensors did pick up would hint at only a few of the discharges being plasma.
In orbit above, the situation would settle into an uneasy standoff - with the frigate having fled into slipspace and the heavy corvette's shields fully charged once again, it and the smaller CRS light cruiser would settle into a steady holding pattern between the Federation vessels and the Kromus destroyer as the latter continued its work. No further movements would be made, nor attempts to again contact the interlopers. Weapons would not fire... but neither would they power down. The warning had been given, and so long as the Federation ships continued to heed it no further hostilities would occur.
The Goshawk shook and rattled as Markus and Faala kept it on course through the turbulence. The Aries-Class Dropship being used by the Federation troops was wobbling a bit, but managed to reach the rendezvous with minor trouble. Something to be said, Edea mused to herself, for whomever had trained these "Galactic Marines".
A final thump signaled their own touchdown, and Edea found herself breathing a sigh of relief. She still never quite got over the "drop jitters" whenever they did this, that mix of anxiety and excitement of a vacuum to surface insertion. She had just gotten better at managing it.
"Marking rendezvous waypoint and setting encryption for Goshawk stealth key. Faala, keep the engine warm, set channel seven-one-niner and have your Macro keep tabs. I don't expect us to stay for dinner."
"Try to save me something to blow up with extreme prejudice, Chief."
The rest of ARC-Nine would gather their gear, a pair of large rifles and very large handguns being readied that Alasdair would have been very familiar with even after nearly two decades. Much of the rest was more expected equipment by comparison, save the very obviously non-standard plasma pistol that Xander slapped against the left leg plate of his armor before stowing the particle pulse rifle away on his back.
Edea breathed in as she gathered her own gear; an ÆSIR Magnum mag-rail pistol to her left leg, BR103-heavy barrel service rifle to her back, and then the long solid barrel that unlocked and compressed back toward the main section of an ÆSIR Burst Beam Sniper Rifle which found its way to the other open mag-plate of her back armor. After a moment, she raised her left hand, gripped her fist, then turned her wrist slightly just before a set of blades snapped out from the bulky forearm unit and swung together to a click and the high pitch hum they all recognized as a vibrational frequency weapon.
"Get yourselves more familiar with the new suits on the way, people. This is our one and only chance to get under cover and run recon to see what's going on here."
No doubt the Federation Marines were having what was bound to be a far more emboldening speech meant to rile them up on the Aries Dropship. But for all of them, this was the first time they would be trying to show the galaxy, not the shadows, what they were all capable of.
Post by Alasdair MacUspaig on Jan 31, 2021 18:38:39 GMT
Alasdair smiled faintly as he found himself relaxing amid the shaking of the vessel, oddly comforted by the familiarity of a drop into what could very easily be a situation as dangerous as any operation he'd ever participated in. Despite this, he showed no hesitation once they landed, and quickly made his final checks on his kit.
"I feel I should inform you that the Covenant-derived vessels match no known configuration or marking pattern in our database. As such, their capabilities remain unknown. Please proceed with caution," Loki commented in a calm tone that suggested that the AI fully expected his human partner to do precisely the opposite. ÆSIRs truly were a strange breed of insane human, he concluded.
"Eh? So mair surprises, then? Sounds like this trip's gannin ta be a right party, then. Check archives if ye want, then, but keep focus on what's gannin on around us. Covey designs are auld as shite, nae tellin' who this lot is," Alasdair answered as he collected his rifle and sidearm and placed them on his back and thigh mag-plates, respectively.
"Looking for ghosts, then? That seems rather odd of you." Loki mused.
"Aye, but so's th' Kromus workin' wi whoever th' fuck's usin' 400+ year auld ships. Whole mess is more kinds of off than I care tae count."
"A valid point. I shall run a check against all known archived designs on background power. Perhaps your ghost is there."
The ÆSIR gave a noncommittal grunt as he gathered his load of grenades, then started for the back hatch. "Huh. Seems th' Marines they sent arnae as green as I thought they might be," he commented when he took notice that the dropship had also landed safely.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
As both dropships came in for a final approach, the landing field selected would be a slight break in the tropical canopy and the only "clear" space able to provide landing within a reasonable amount of distance from their intended goal. Roughly three and a half kilometers from the listening post, the area would look to be almost a marsh of sorts hugging the edge of what looked to be a "river" - merely a deeper stretch of mud brown water that had managed to cut a deeper channel into the surface where currents had been allowed to run particularly strong. The marsh itself was little more than a flood plain, one still submerged and too nutrient poor for anything more than thick stemmed reeds and grasses to grow. As both ships made to touch down their landing struts would bend and flatten the plant life, the folded stems acting for but a moment to prevent the ships from sinking through the silt and mud... at least immediately.
With the boarding ramps for each ships opening it would become quickly apparent that the usefulness of more advanced forms of camouflage would be limited on the world. Any attempt to step off the dropships would be immediately met with knee high water that would bubble as noxious gasses trapped in the silt below were released, the mud sucking at the offending limbs to slow those who tried to wade through it. The sky overcast from the encroaching storm in the distance, a light drizzling rain would mist the water and plantlife as soldiers moved to disembark. The dropships themselves would find their time limited here unless they wished to risk further complications - only a minute or two after landing and the reeds that had matted below the landing gear would have sunk far enough to allow the same mud to begin flowing over and pooling around the metal, the water's surface inching closer and closer to the ships' hulls by the moment.
Beyond that, however, so far away from the listening post - there was close to silence save for the slight tap of the rain against metal, water and leaves, the local wildlife having fled in advance of the strange contraptions.
"I'm gonna have to find another staging area, the muck is too soft."
Markus would nod and signal for the team to hurry to stable ground while the back hatch lifted to closure, and the Goshawk would pull away from the mud and muck, using only its repulsors to maneuver and saving the fusion thrusters to avoid further exposure. Minutes later, the Federation landing ship would follow suit, leaving the galactic marines to hurry to "shore" and join up with ARC-Nine.
"All due respect, but what the hell?"
Edea frowned under her helmet, her eyes narrowed at the human marine who bore what she recognized as the chitmarks of a Galfed police lieutenant. Human, but clearly not Terran. Despite the same source species, there was a definite cultural difference between Confed terrans and the humans who had populated Federation worlds.
"Change of plans, lieutenant." Markus was calm, far more than Edea admitted to herself than she would have been. "The LZ is too unstable for staging the dropships, Faala knows what she's doing, though."
Even as Markus was trying to reassure the Federation trooper that they did indeed know what they were doing, she heard a beep in her coms, noticing the text now scrolling across her screen; a private note from Sola.
They weren't alone.
"Chief, Macro advises we move out now before we possibly pick up unwanted eyes."
Post by Alasdair MacUspaig on Mar 10, 2021 2:31:18 GMT
Alasdair sighed as he eyed the ground below, silently glad he had elected not to repeat his common practice of jumping from the ship this time, having considered it detrimental to his status as an advisor. "This mess looks like all kinds of fun," he muttered as he stepped out to drop onto the sodden ground below the Goshawk before it lifted back into the air. He'd deployed to such locales before, of course, but swamps remained the ÆSIR's least favorite deployment. "Loki, mind seein' if I missed anythin'. Fuckin' hate swamps," Alasdair groused to his Macro before switching his comms back on to the rest of the team, then started after the younger "ÆSIRs"
"One moment. Shall I count any leeches I find?" the AI questioned with something approaching humor. Some might have found such banter during a deployment unprofessional and a distraction, yet for Alasdair, it helped to keep his mind calm and focused, allowing him to function at his best even in the most stressful conditions.
"Mair focused on shite what might be a bit mair severe a threat, ye wanker," he replied once he made certain his mic was back on internal comms again. He doubted that ARC-Nine would much care for his method of operation, and quietly determined his best course would be to listen, but have his mic on internal unless he had something to actually say to the others.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
The trek through the ankle deep muck and verdant tropical growth would be, surprisingly, a largely uneventful one. With most of the wildlife scared into hiding by the previous fighting and surface bombardment the only movement to be seen would be the occasional unidentified contact on motion trackers, signs of smaller animals fleeing in advance of the armored soldiers as they made their way towards the listening outpost. Little else would be seen or heard as the two teams closed across the remaining kilometer of distance between their landing zone and the listening post, save for the occasional crimson and steel colored Phantom fly bys overhead - in each case, flanked by a Kromus dropship flying in wing position. None of them gave any indication of having spotted either team of soldiers beneath the forest canopy, with all silent until the team came to the last three hundred meters between them and the outpost.
Carved into the landscape ahead would be a large swath of open land, mud charred black with soot and glass where the water had rushed in to reclaim the cinders of the torched forest. So searingly hot and thorough had the act been that not even tree stumps remained. While the clearing stretched off far to either side as if it had been created as a firebreak, a hundred meters across the streaming mud and open terrain the forest resumed again, albeit blackened at the edges and quickly giving way to the mountain atop which the listening post sat. Anyone with magnification capable optics would've seen the obvious activity towards the summit, a collection of buildings and hastily erected fortifications - behind which sat two immediately visible crimson armored Wraith mortar tanks, assigned sentry duty but seemingly at rest.
Any further observation would be cut short, however, as only moments would pass after the team arrived at the edge of their side of the clearing before a sharp, electronic chirp-snap whined through the air, a needle thin lance of blood red destruction flashing across the clearing from the opposite forest - to nail one of the Federation marines clean through the middle of his visor, punching through to spear the greenery behind him. No sooner had that happened another lance of destruction would follow only a fraction of a second later to nail a second in the chest, the third missing another trooper by mere millimeters just as the infantry up in the listening post began to react and scramble in response.