Halo: Storming The Eternal Phalanx

Part I

August 23rd, 2554 Standard Military Calender

Task Force Centurion in Orbit over

Paleon of the Eridanus Ceti System

"Ten seconds."

Krone was restrained to his seat within the SOEIV, hands gripping his restraints with white knuckles, head against the soft padding behind his helmet as he heard the drop bay's operations technician fighting to keep his voice level against the impacts of plasma lances and debris punctuating the man's voice in random bumps, clatters, and clanks against the hull of their Charon class frigate. The ship was barreling toward a broken formation of Rem-Cov ships over Paleon, and the amount of Gs Krone was feeling crushing the air out of his chest only told him that the ship was engaged in a hard maneuver to turn its belly in a position to fire off its payload.
This, of course, meant that he was about to feel an even greater force of nature fighting the soft biology of his body to a limit that his suit would only barely accomodate for once he was sent from the launch bay. The payload, in this case, was him. Him and about fifteen other ODST boardng parties in the midst of this orbital furball that was the UNSC's naval response.
Thanks to a pair of specialists that had boarded anther craft, a corvette for that matter, the UNSC now had actionable intelligence to stage a counter offensive against the Covenant splinter groups' fleet in orbit over the besieged Paleon. Of course this wouldn't be as easy to achieve without the poetic touch of high command's Roman-esque tactics.

The planing was above his pay grade, but he had volunteered Hammerhead's services nonetheless when he had found out that one Admiral Akira had been present for the better part of its fruition. He remembered the name from years past, a time that felt like ten lifetimes ago. A time when New Mombasa was still a strange place and a land of adventure and harship. She was there. Not on the ground, but in the sky above doing what she could, remembering her obligations to her people when the stakes were so high that it would have been the difference between courtmartial or a clean conscience. She had his respect, and she knew it from the look in his eyes when she had personally awarded him a distinguished service medal for "Dedication, valor, and loyalty in the face of uncertainty and unseen opposition."

The plan was simple when it came to their deployment; a single fast attack frigate with a small pyload of ODSTs would be launched directly onto a CAS class cruiser with the heightened speed that battle statisticians put outside of the safe mission parameters. But here, now, in the middle of all of the madness, it made more sense to Krone and the rest of Fireteam Hammerhead than the various hard-G turns, weapon solutions, false signatures and evasive maneuvers that the fleet would be orchestrating in unbelievably precise synchronization that would be the effective distraction they needed until touchdown upon the hostile warship's hull.

He hoped they had orchestrated this in simulations, or at the least had the prior experience to get the general idea that was outside of his own soldiering mindset. Despite the rampant shit talk between the Marines and Seamen of the UNSC, he knew that if one didn't do their job correctly, then the other would be paying hell for it.

"Three, two..."

Krone rolled his neck one way, then the other. His fingers relaxed, flexed, then tightened around the controls once again, and then felt the sudden surge of his pod's initial burn.

-----------------------------------

From the expression on the Unggoy's face--the upper half of it that Krone could in fact see above its armor reinforced breathing mask--it was clear and evident that the sentry wasn't expecting to see anyone, a human nonetheless, emerging from the Engineer tunnel's access port. In that moment of its shocked indecision, too transfixed to even draw the plasma pistol hanging from its hip, Krone dashed forward and took hold of its head with both hands, gouging his thumbs into its beady black eyes. The Grunt yelped inside his mask, then reduced himself to ululating, uttering sounds.