Halo: Conflicts

Chapter 4: Merciless

August 20, 2552
Planet Reach
1528 hours
   
"Commander. We have several ODST teams in the commerce district. Not enough, unfortunately. We are trying to get reinforcements from India Company." John-A222 nods, inspecting the holoprojection before him. The Spartan is in the ONI Olympic Tower. He stands in front of Lieutenant Colonel Sorvis, who is seated in a wheelchair. Managing to survive the needler rifle wounds from the previous day, Sorvis insisted to return to duty. "Your team is likely going to be given priority one and quick response deployments." The Commander looks down at the crippled soldier. "What is the overall status of the city?" Sorvis speaks sharply at first. "Classified." He pauses, recognizing his arrogance. "What I mean to say is... I don't know. The higher-ups have kept the city status behind closed doors. All I know is that gradual evacuation efforts have started in the afflicted part of the city." He sighs to himself, thinking about previous Covenant assaults. "If it gets worse... We'll all know. Just have your team prepped. We can't afford to keep Spartans out of the field." A222 nods and exits.
  
1558 hours
   
John sits with Josh-A124 and Timothy-A130 on a Falcon as it passes by several buildings. Another Falcon, holding the remaining members, follows behind them. The Falcons are low, flying just above the third story of New Alexandria's buildings. Comms are alive, information being distributed for the occasion. "We received the beacon approximately twenty-three minutes ago. It went dark in ten." The officer is referring to a local UNSC recruitment center, home to a small contingent of recruiters and active personnel. "What is your status, Spartans?" John checks his tacpad and comms, "Green, sir. ETA is two minutes." The officer sounds pleased. "Happy hunting then Spartan. Keep us updated." A222 nods to himself, "Sir," as the Falcons touch down.
   
John moves up quickly towards the building's doorway. He stands with his back to the wall, peering around the corner. Plasma burns already scorch the darkened white walls. He raises two fingers and makes a sideways cut. His team members give a short nod and move up, around, and into the building, aiming their weapons. A222 rounds the corner and walks tactically with his team into the building. The inside is darkened, lit by a few flickering lights. John gives a slight jerk of his head, indicating for his team to fan out. They keep their rifles raised and their eyes peeled.
  
The floor is littered with shattered glass and debris. The walls here too are peppered with round, black plasma burns. Adam-B226 approaches and inspects a wall. He comms quietly, "I don't think they were Brutes, sir." A222 nods and continues to look around. Josh looks around a desk and crouches. "Found a body, sir. Officer by the looks of it." John systematically responds, "Wounds?" Josh-A124 is silent for a moment. He then picks up. "Standard plasma wounds to the chest and abdomen." John looks over to Adam and nods. Nathan comms, "Found the beacon John... Or what's left of it." He holds up a busted device, matching UNSC hardware.
  
The Spartans continue moving, reaching the small barracks that the center houses. The Spartans brace against an outside wall and then move in. The door is open. Papers and corpses litter the bunks inside. A few bodies, recruits, are leaned up against the wall, plasma burns covering their chests. Several of the bodies lay next to magnums or assault rifles, indicating brave resistance. John kneels by a close body. "Damn..." Tyler and Adam move in and look around the room. Timothy, Josh, and Nathan cover the outside hall. John-A222 gets back to his feet. "Let's keep looking." The team proceeds down the hall.
  
1614 hours
  
The Spartans pass several open doors. Nothing inside the rooms but bodies and debris. They finally approach a small sealed door. Muffled sounds can be heard from the inside. John moves up and stand next to the door. He flicks his index finger up and the following Spartans stop in their tracks. A222 signals for Timothy to move up. The blue-armored Spartan walks over to the door and with the grinding of steel, he rips the door from its hinges. The other Spartans move around quickly and point their rifles inside.
  
The room is a meager armory. Despite being unexpected, the Spartans display no emotion upon seeing the faces that stare back at them. A small group of recruits and a pair of officers stand scared behind some crates, none of them older than 25. Their faces are smeared with ash and dirt. They wear incomplete pieces of armor... a spare helmet... a set of greaves... or a chestplate. Most of those inside clutch magnums or submachine guns. Those without weapons hold firmly onto steel rods or sharp debris. Most are relieved to see the Spartans. A younger recruit says a small prayer and crosses himself. Those that aren't thrilled are still too traumatized to react. An officer approaches the Spartans as they lower their weapons. He speaks weakly, "Are they there?" John looks down at the man. "Are what there, soldier?" There is a rattling in the vents above, followed by a horrendous screech. A222 looks quickly to Josh. "Nova Two! You and Three get these survivors out! Four, Five, and Six on me." Josh and Tyler nod and begin jogging down the hall with the weakened personnel. John, Timothy, Adam, and Nathan backtrack behind them, rifles raised. There is another screech as a cluster of Drones drop down from the ceiling. Green bursts of plasma fly past as the Spartans open fire. One of the monsters goes crashing into the wall. Another charges Adam but is beaten down before contact. The four Spartans follow after the others.
   
"Commander, we have the recruits onboard our Falcons." Josh-A124 comms from outside. John, Timothy, Adam, and Nathan take cover behind the desk and bleak furniture in the center's lobby. John leans up and fires, downing another Drone. More screeches echo from down the hall. "Excellent work. Let's pull back, Spartans." They emerge from cover and fire at more emerging Drones. Their shields shimmer as the Spartans are hit by plasma. John and his teammates charge out the door and turn, aiming at the entrance. Josh and Tyler join them.
   
John looks over at the two Falcons that fly into the distance. He connects to his long range comm channel. There are more screeches as Drones begin to fly out from the building and into the air. Several hover low to the ground and fire. "Sorvis! Sorvis, this is Nova One." He fires a DMR, dropping a Drone. There is a reply, "Copy Nova One. What is your status? Over." John crouches. The entire team slowly backs away. "We are at the recruitment center. Survivors have been evacuated. We have Buggers confirmed. Repeat. Buggers confirmed. Acknowledge?" The voice comms. "Solid copy. We are sending support and evac. Hang tight Nova." The comm ends as the Spartans continue to fire.
  
1859 hours
  
Falcons circle overhead, their gunners and main turrets firing on the small swarm below. Covenant infantry have arrived and fire on the Spartans. A Pelican lowers as the conflict continues. John is followed by his team aboard the dropship, and it slowly lifts off. As it gains altitude, the Spartans watch as the Falcons continue to engage. A Drone speeds up and grabs onto a Falcon gunner. The Bugger pulls the soldier out and sends him plummeting to the streets. The pilot turns the Falcon and catches the Drone in the propeller. The Falcons then move to escort the Pelican.
  
The sun sets as the aircraft move away. Any pursuing Drones are shot down until they retreat. John-A222 looks out at the city as it starts to drizzle.