Halo: Project PERSEUS

[AceSorcerer]

Out of Character: OPEN SIGNUPS - Halo: Project PERSEUS OOC
Sign-Ups: OPEN SIGNUPS - CHARACTER INDEX - Halo: Project PERSEUS Sign-Ups​

[fieldbox=Martin-718, grey, solid, 8, stencil]"You have some explaining to do, agent."

"Oh? What is it you need to know, admiral? I'm certain the Office of Naval Intelligence sent you all you needed to know."

"Yes, ONI sent me information on Project PERSEUS. Or should I call them the SPARTAN-Vs?"

"Call them what you will, admiral, they're under your command."

"You made a new generation out of orphans? Why?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

"Typical ONI. But these augmentations… they're nothing like the IVs. They're closer to the IIs and Is than anything else. And it seems a bit odd of the UNSC not to deploy more than half of their new forces past the core worlds, agent. Is there something I should know that you've neglected to inform me about?"

"Let's just say the UNSC wants more of a field test before full integration, admiral. About thirty percent of all the Vs have been shipped for testing. You have about twenty here. A smaller platoon, but ONI wanted them carved up for observation purposes."

"Oh? Why not throw thirty more in and we can codename all of the agents onboard after the states?"

"Quite hilarious, admiral. I'm sure you've also received the data on the good doctor and the AI?"

"Yes, I have. I am slightly concerned about these AIs' ability to jump without being yanked. Other than that, it seems standard, assuming she can't jump into the ship's controls. The crew will learn about them in the mission briefing. Do these SPARTANS at least know one another, agent?"

"In a basic sense. I imagine most of them haven't seen one another in years due to their specialization training. As for the AI units, they can only jump into specialized receptors without being yanked from the base AI slot. As long as the SPARTANs wear their helmets, the AI can pay them a visit."

"But look at all these other systems and weapons training, agent- it seems obvious you're not telling me the true purpose behind this program. What is ONI hiding from us?"

"You'll learn in due time, admiral. But until then, you need to be kept in the dark like most other personnel."

---

Fifteen years ago, in the year 2598, the United Nations Space Command (better known as the UNSC) issued the creation of a new program: Project PERSEUS. Walking in the lineage of Project ORION and the SPARTAN-IIs, the Office of Naval Intelligence immediately began their work of finding suitable candidates- five hundred in total. All the candidates in question were orphans from the ages of five to seven, although they weren't children of war like the SPARTAN-IIIs, and they weren't stolen from families like the SPARTAN-IIs.

No, they were regular orphans. No parents, no families, no paper trail, and no one to miss them.

They were given purpose, provided they proved compatible with the augmentation process. They were trained separate from the SPARTAN-IVs, which would continue to be produced from willing soldiers in the regular UNSC divisions. The first few years, as it tends to be, was indoctrination into the military lifestyle accompanied by rigorous physical training to prepare for the augmentation process. Performed on each individual before the onset of puberty (typically shortly after the individual's twelfth birthday), five percent of the participants would die from the augmentations. Out of the remaining SPARTANS, ten would end up temporarily crippled and the remainder would experience only minor side-effects. There were some who died in the training process, but when the SPARTAN-Vs entered the final stages of training, there were four hundred and sixty-five of them remaining- a number far stronger than what had come out of previous generations.

However, the UNSC wasn't too keen on continuously generating more of these orphan soldiers, so these survivors would be the only members of the new breed until further notice.

The bulk of the project itself was led by one Doctor Richard Ingram, an MD and PhD who was one of the students of the late Doctor Catherine Halsey's research. Ingram, who specialized in genetic research, was a natural choice to take over as Project PERSEUS' Chief Science Officer, reporting to an ONI Section Three officer, one Captain Orson, one of the Deputy Chiefs of said section.

Eventually, after a final round of testing, the SPARTANs were shipped for advanced training. Infantry, medical, demolitions, mechanics, flying, the works. After the first year, they were further divided into three groups- the enlisted, the Warrant Officers, and the Officer Corps. Of course, many of these were depending on the job.

The regular enlisted made up the bulk of the group, about eighty percent of the total. The remaining twenty percent were divided into the Warrant Officer and Officer Corps, with the warrant officers being slightly more numerous. The warrant officers were mainly the specially trained SPARTAN-V pilots and medical specialists, in addition to a few other specialized positions that required extensive knowledge in training. The Officer Corps, however, were selected for their observed leadership skills and tendencies during their years of training. They were all run through Midshipmen training and received their commissions upon completion of their training, although they also had supplemental training to assist the other SPARTAN-Vs in their duties, while the officers were also entrusted with another strong asset- a smart AI. Each AI chose their own officer to work with, and in turn chose the divisions they would be working with.

It was during this training that the SPARTANs received their first taste of their own armor sets, being issued basic, unmodified sets of the Mjolnir-VIIIB GEN2 armor, eventually given their own customizable armor kits during their second to last year of training. These kits had an even more powerful asset- the Microstorage Supply Pack. Using data gathered from the encounters with the Prometheans, ONI researchers developed a way for the SPARTANs to carry around even more equipment. With some work, the SPARTAN-Vs would be able to store two primary weapons in this through a technology that broke the gear down into data and stored it within the MSP for later use and extrapolation. However, only some specially issued weapon models and other such tools were compatible with this pack (which appeared as a black orb on the small of the armor's back), and if a SPARTAN lost their weapons and replaced them with a new one on the battlefield they would have to be carried manually.

All of these memories and a few bruises came to mind as the SPARTAN-V looked up from the floor of the Pelican, an AI chiming into the team's ears over the UNSC radio channel as the Pelican jerked slightly, banking to the side as it began to approach the objective, a voice like digital honey.

"Sigil Platoon, ears on me. The orders been rushed out so while the team leaders have mission specifics, command wants me to give you the general rundown. Your target is a UNSC research station designated 'Damascus.' It's been taken over by a group of organized terrorists that are keeping at least two dozen hostages. One platoon of marines and two ODST teams were dropped ahead of you, but they haven't been able to breach the entryway. Minimum estimates from the marines say there are at least twenty-five to thirty hostiles holding the facility, and they've hijacked some of the BIOS EOD and Soldier-class armor to do it. Once you meet up with your handlers you'll be splitting up into Alpha Team and Bravo Team. Command ordered me to stay out, so Alex is the only AI that'll be with you all planetside. Ishvani out- good luck, SPARTANs."

Inside his HUD, one of SPARTANs saw his command brief, tapping some buttons on his TACPAD to send it into the HUDs of the other members of Alpha Team; the marksman, the runt, the pyro, and the veteran, along with the AI that would be buzzing around into their heads. Bravo Team, in this case, was much larger to keep the enemies distracted outside while Alpha Team went in as silent as possible. Popping his neck, the lieutenant spoke up with cold calculation in his voice.

"Alpha Team, listen up. We are tasked with breaking in while Bravo Team gives cover. After we get in, Bravo will secure the exterior before guarding the exits and sabotaging any enemy vehicles after seeing if they can scrape out any data. While this is happening, we will be responsible for clearing the base floor of hostiles and rescuing any hostiles, with secondary objectives of securing any threatened or stolen asset before calling in Bravo and progressing up the next few floors. If you engage a hostile that looks important- shoot 'em in the kneecaps. The admiral wants some answers. We will continue to be on frequency three while Hack takes over Bravo on frequency four. Use frequency two for communication between teams and the other personnel. This operation needs to be silent as long as possible and the assets are highly valuable, so try to hold off on explosives and keep to callsigns until we're clear. Let's make it a clean sweep and show the good doctor his work. Khan out."

It was their first jump from the UNSC Legacy, the first time they had been on a planet beside Reach their for most of their lives. Chi Ceti IV, it seemed, was where it all began. The moment the ship exited slipspace after the ship's maiden jump from Reach (the jump itself lasting slightly over two hours), they had received a distress signal from a research facility on the planet- the same facility that was now surrounded by UNSC personnel, the SPARTAN lieutenant leading his fireteam to the least-guarded side entrance, using his TACPAD to hack into the door's security system. Once the door slid open, he motioned his team inside, speaking softly on the radio as they door shut behind him, the man making a motion with his arm as his trusty BR85 appeared in his hands- the MSP system at work and fully functional.

"Look for any major terminals and keep an eye out for hostiles. Keep quiet as long as possible. Otherwise, I'll take point. Deadshot, take the rear. For now, we need to mark and clear until we can get Bravo in."

And so, with less than a day together as a team, it was time to get to work.

[/fieldbox]

 

[Quake]

[fieldbox="Valerie-900, purple, solid, 6, Book Antiqua"]

Listening to the commander's mission brief aboard the Pelican, Valerie-900, callsign Nemesis Delta, hummed to herself quietly as she inspected her weapons one last time. It was her first mission with her new team, and while she would have loved to go in guns blazing, this was a rescue mission, meaning most of her specialized gear would probably do more harm than good. Nevertheless, the young SPARTAN had still brought her 319 along just in case. It packed just enough of a punch that if the mission went south, she had the explosive power needed to wreck shop.​

As Alpha Team hit the ground, Valerie switched weapons over to her Magnum, quickly installing a suppressor onto its muzzle. She had a suppressor for her shotgun as well, but even with it equipped, it still made quite a loud pop. Thus, she never really used it. The Magnum was the quietest and cleanest weapon in her arsenal, but it was also the most boring. Oh well, she thought to herself. Maybe later. For now, it was time to go to work. Getting in formation behind the lieutenant, she followed Khan through the door and into the research facility, eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. She didn't know what awaited them inside, but she knew she was ready for anything. Nemesis could only hope her team felt the same way.
[/fieldbox]

 

[Soverign]

Having remained silent from briefing all the way till boots hit the ground Spencer-674 designated as Deadshot adjusted to the extra voice in his head. He didn't ask for an AI, but never the less he will use what Khan told him. The AI being called Alex, was a unique one. The mission seemed simple, rescue the hostages, retrieve Intel whenever possible, eliminate hostiles. Yet nothing they had trained for lead to simple. If it was a mission it was unpredictable in some aspect. A good majority of the facilities halls are restricting mainly allowing close quarters tactics and armaments. Even still he didn't leave his sniper behind as they left the pelican. Taking the necessary clips for his AR and sniper rifle Spencer also took a sniper clip with the painted word 'Lucky' on it. Putting the armor piercing clip away he was prepared. Holding up the rear he watched as the door slid closed marking their point of no return. He had taken rear while the team moved forward ever so quietly. With his AR in his hands he had been forced to switch out his sniper rifle. Though he could make whatever shot is needed using what would be best for the current situation is smartest.

The team moved in a tight formation keeping quiet and moving efficiently. Keeping his eyes watching the rear Spencer was unsure why such an entry wasn't watched. Not wasting time on the thought they had progressed into a junction in the halls. Keeping an eye out Spencer scanned his environment carefully as their next move was decided.

 

[BoxBob³]

[fieldbox="Pleiades Seven, cyan, dotted"]Alex could have done the briefing in his sleep, not that he slept at this point, he was a little far gone past needing that, just another small comfort that was taken away for something entirely different. Not that he wanted to state most of what he had in mind of range of any possible ONI recording devices, he was fairly certain by this point that he'd secured the SPARTAN-V communications at this point, at least for this mission, but it didn't hurt to keep things extra quiet in case someone was pointing a laser microphone at someone's visor. Not that he could confirm anything just yet as he sat through the briefing, Khan went over the basics, although he'd wish that Khan had instead reminded them that in order to deal with a target non-lethally, it was best as a Spartan to engage them in melee. While any one of these squad members might just shrug off a magnum round to the chest, a human was a far softer target and stood a chance of bleeding out.

Alex had to resist the urge to vocalize the rest of the briefing himself however, Khan seemed to move in slow-motion compared to the speed at which he could now think, act, and then re-evaluate his actions, improving each second. That was probably the hardest thing to get used to, trying to adjust to reality acting like a frozen picture, giving him time to rethink, and second-guess his instincts, something that he'd have to train himself not to do eventually, after all, he'd learned to trust them for a reason. Humans behave in ways very difficult to predict mathematically, and yet plenty of people could do so based off of subtle cues. The issue with this came in when each of those subtle cues took ages to complete and gave you all the time in the world to properly evaluate, then guess if it was a feigned tell, or a true one, and then proceed to try and compile a entire personality chart off of one twitch of an eyebrow. Of course that profile was entirely useless, but old habits were hard to break, it just turns out being able to act quite literally faster than the speed of thought makes old habits that were once life-saving into terrible ones that should be ignored.

He couldn't say he was surprised that the pad Khan used opened up for them as easily as it did, after all, most UNSC facilities had more than a few backdoors just in case of a siege situation, something that he thought of as a tremendous oversight in case of an assault on a building like the one they were performing. After all, if this team went rogue, all of those backdoors would be open until a very, very long retrofitting process was complete, at which point there was likely still more security holes to patch, or new backdoors for everyone's favorite quiet operators at ONI. He let the team enter in silence, before beginning to open up the theory he was working on, one that received a soft confirmation partly through him speaking.

"Spartans, be advised, this channel will be only free from ONI monitoring for another fourty-three seconds, we're experiencing 'strange interference' at the moment. This operation is far below the threat level to require a response like this from our team. Something of extreme importance to ONI is in the building, or this operation is staged for us. Be advised: hostiles have full access to the armory." He was compiling that data based on the two targets jogging down the hallway around two corners, full combat kits, rifles, and even dufflebags with further munitions, likely for their comrades holding out on more active fronts. "Footstep regularity and low pulserate indicate highly-trained soldiers, they seem to be carrying supplies to the front, more regular ammunition, possibly heavy munitions. Quantity indicative of higher hostile count than anticipated, or expectations of protracted siege. Tracking now."

He couldn't exactly 'track' the targets through the walls, he was simply highlighting an indicator that even their motion sensors would have picked up, and displaying a red circular mark on the ground the hostiles likely occupied as they moved. All this indicator truly managed was showing within the Spartan's field of vision the actual location of the hostile rather than the simple orientation of the motion sensor, but it was useful for avoiding contact early on if that was the MO at the moment. However, with the mental, and very real timer he'd been feeding to the Spartans and himself running out, he turned over to his direct line with home, to avoid bothering the squad with the extra traffic, saying "TOC, interference cleared, electromagnetic shielding of research facility attuned for. Alpha is in site, securing beachhead for further operations and establishing uplink into network. Be advised: Hostiles have access to armory, and have subverted security measures of the building, brief did not include this intel. Requesting investigation of personnel records to cross-reference with hostiles and to determine possible source of leak."

That was a tacturn enough response, and probably one they expected, but Alex hadn't been assigned to the Spartans to play ONI's game, he was here to ensure their survival as best as he could. Before long, he was beginning to highlight things like thermostats, door controls, and security cameras with a slight pop-up if a Spartan chose to view one "Tertiary Objective: Establish uplink into network for security system subversion."[/fieldbox]

 

[RedArmyShogun]

[fieldbox= Montgomery S-B53, green, solid]

Having listened to the briefing, Nikolai displeased with the objectives and details on the operation says nothing none-the-less. While the Chief knew it stunk, being reinforced by talking to the lower ranks and ratings, the Chief knew this was a bloody balls up. Readying his Ammo pack, this team had a diverse assortment of munitions, it would be impossible to bring much for them, but a few magazines would do. Checking his SAW and Shotgun the Chief then sights his various instruments while checking that his aging armor and EOD helmet was still functioning.

Satisfied with this and uploading his song list, the XO settles in for a nap before going to the front, as if it were just another Tuesday. Having known the V's as an instructor he knew what more than a few of them were capable of, they also likely did not have the most fond memories of him. The Training instructor had to be hard, had to break the recruits and rebuild them so they would survive, either way it was what it was. Listening to his Music the battle plan only further served to draw the ire of the Senior NCO, but an NCO all the same.

Though so long as the fresh meat didn't do anything overly stupid they needed some seasoning.

With making landside, the CPO briefly cuts in over the squad command as matter of protocol. "You heard the man, move those legs Gentlemen. Alpha disembark."

Upon reaching the building the cautious noncom finally had cause to speak up with the AI's interruption, slightly annoyed by the Machine voicing it's opinions Nikolai speaks up. "You don't say, Sunshine? O'course it's not what it seems, though I disagree with them being highly trained, soldiers they are, sure. But if they were we would have a dead man or two here by now. ONI did a bloody balls up on us again. Remember your training, this is your baptism, had I been leading the defense here, that terminal would of been wired to overload and tripwires would be in the halls with frags in the vents above our heads."

Turning his com over to the squad and commander, the irregularity should have been over by now so everything would be on record from this point on.

"Redcoat to Akula you back Khan up and I'll be behind you. Keep an eye out for Active Camo, I rather not lose an Officer on point, we still have not made contact with the ODST or Marines. If you see anything...odd, once we are deeper inside, report to me or Khan."

With the AI's follow up report, the old man sighs, loading his shotgun, switching back to the SAW quickly, this was going to be a long day. Waiting to see what his officers conclusion would be on that information, the XO couldn't speak up more on the issue unless asked.

[/fieldbox]

 

[EmperorsChosen]

[fieldbox=Yakovna, darkred, solid]
As the lieutenant briefed the team as the pelican shook, the smallest of the SPARTANs on board bounced ever so slightly on her soles. Outfitted in ebony-colored armor, only illuminated by the golden visor and artistically framed triangles outlining above and below it. Her armor was mostly lightweight, forgoing most attachments save for some CQC variant selections which fit her specialization.

The briefing was pretty baseline. Enemies. Building. Beat'em down. It was so unordinary, Akula wondered why they were even there. Couldn't the marines or ODST handle it? Why were a group of terrorists demanding the attention of so many SPARTANs? One would probably be enough. What was just as interesting though, was that they were to be taken alive. Suddenly, the SMG's strapped to Yakovna's thighs seemed to more resemble paperweights than actual weapons. Her shoulders slumped momentarily.

"Well... guess I'll just... break their legs or something..." Akula spoke with a hum.

Listening to the AI speak up after Khan, he—it—Alex stated pretty much exactly what she had thought, buried in a lot of words. The gist was that this probably had more to do with ONI than anything else. Typical of everything, or so she had heard. The program then quickly went on to analyzing mission parameters, likely as the secure network timed up. It was nice to know the computer jumping in and out of their heads cared more about their well-being than ONI—or was that what they wanted them to think? Maybe it was a ploy. Maybe not. She had heard lots of horror stories around conspiracies around the organization, but it wasn't like there was a way to confirm it. Besides, worrying on too much was a drain on morale.

Following his words was the old man, or so he behaved. He wasn't really old, and even if he was, he had power armor so it wasn't like it mattered. Regardless, Akula conspired to dub him some such, whether he liked or was annoyed by it. Regardless, he seemed to confirm what Alex surmised. Looking to the other two on board, it seemed they weren't much talkers, but then again snipers and marksmen rarely were. It was kind of funny, in a way.

Disembarking, they were led to an entrance seemingly devoid of attention. Well, this was just sloppy. They should've had all their entrances checked, but some random terrorists likely already had their hands full with the marines, troopers and Bravo team.

"I'll follow your lead Boss," Akula said, heeding the veteran's advice. "...and if you need a door, or a wall, busted open—not saying we will... buuut... Just in case. I'm right here."

It wasn't the start of a mission, or a day for that matter, without Yakovna annoying at least one comrade.
[/fieldbox]

 

[AceSorcerer]

[fieldbox=Martin-718, grey, solid, 8, stencil]Raising a palm in the air and dropping it down- the universal UNSC handsign to go stop and go into a prone position- as he saw hostiles on his enemy tracker. Three hostiles in green suits, likely the Soldier-variant armor. He spoke up, looking down the reticle of his Battle Rifle as he glanced around him.

"Two contacts, on the edge of the motion tracker and directly ahead of us. 20 meters. Deadshot, engage your active camoflague and create a distraction. Akula, sneak behind them and take them out. Keep the asset damage to a minimum. Delta, Redcoat- get ready to cover them if things go sour. Meanwhile, we've got a bit of luck- there's a maintenance terminal here on the floor. I'm going to start an uplink, see what we can find out. Let's get moving, SPARTANs."

The SPARTAN-V soon looked as his BR85 vanished from his hands, pulling his M6H Magnum from its magnetic holster on his hip and setting it next to him before pulling out his combat knife and forcing the panel open. A series of industrial grade wires and a small maintenance terminal sparked to life on the floor, with a couple of small modifications, it would seem. Turning his forearm, the SPARTAN detached his TACPAD from his armor, detaching and reattaching some wires from thaty and the maintenance terminal until he forced access into the enemy system as undetected as he could, downloading as much as he could get away with, starting with a floorplan and the most recent audio logs. He would have to have Alex go through all this data and find anything relevant once they finished, but right now he just wished they had a tech expert on their hands- most of what he was doing was basic-level skill as far as his training went. If it got any more complicated, there would be little could do about it. But, for now, Martin-718 did all he could to avoid the enemy from detecting interference in their system.[/fieldbox]

 

[Soverign]

Creeping around the group Spartan-674 had looked at Akula and then activated his cloaking. Knowing he only had a few minutes at most Deadshot had moved with absolute silence. Even in his armor he had learned the best ways to remain hidden, keeping to the darkest path, to the darkest shadow. He had approached the pair of soldiers and had a minute and a half left on his cloaking, thirty seconds having been his travel time. The pair went into a room they stood outside of and though this was no issue it just restricted what options there were. Having removed one bulled from his pistol Deadshot then moved in, the room was large but supported mostly bunks and lockers for gear. The far side being the main area of beds while near the entrance on either side was lockers all labelled with names. The room was empty except the two he had followed in. Keeping to the wall the corner he moved to was perfect, the light was out and made it a dark shadowed area.

The pair talked and it was unexpected as a third soldier entered the room. Deadshot opened his coms to his team as if to speak but just let their voices be heard "Sir! Nothing to report" The third, seeming higher rank seemed to sigh annoyed with his underling "Have you taken the supplies to needed locations?" They were quick to answer "Yes sir! As ordered" Akula had moved closer and was by the doorway after the third soldier walked in. This one having a yellow band around his upper arm while the others didn't have this. Knowing this to be a possible lieutenant it was worth to take him alive if possible. Deadshot then began his plan.

He rolled the bullet on the ground and they noticed it. The rather confused lieutenant watched it and turned his back to Deadshot's corner. The other two watched their superior carefully as he walked over to where it stopped. He picked it up and turned to just see Deadshot strike. He had turned off his active camouflage and lunged forward at the unsuspecting pair. Using his knife effectively cutting their throats without a sound. As the bodies he hit the floor he then kicked the lieutenant to the floor, dazed he looked up seeing Akula there. Deadshot walked closer bloody blade in hand.

"You could break his leg or something" He said finally speaking, having recalled her stating it on the pelican. Though he may have wanted to let her, she may get her chance in interrogation. He held no compassion for his enemies. Deadshot then pulled his punch enough to only knock the lieutenant out, then binding him. Deadshot had searched the captive and pulled an ID card for the facility out of his breast pocket. Signaling the team the threat was down Deadshot handed Khan the ID card and then returned to finish searching the captive for anything useful.

 

[EmperorsChosen]

[fieldbox=Yakovna, darkred, solid]A slight pout formed under Akula's helmet as Martin gave out further orders to the squad. Really? Nothing? Always so serious and quiet. Then again, they all had only met a couple weeks ago. Maybe the squad just wasn't at the banter stage yet. They'd get there—hopefully. Training seemed to want them as monotonous drones for the most part and didn't seem to care much for "sparks" like her.

With a sigh, Yakovna affirmed her orders with a nod and tone. "...Got it."

Looking to Deadshot before he made use of his "vanishing trick" as she had coined it, Akula began moving into position. Creeping closer to the targets, who were lazing about in a room. Really? They were talking this calmly when the UNSC was at their doorstep. This was a bit much even for the small Spartan in question. Inching into the room, the sound of feet marching with a purpose towards their direction came from the doorway leading out of the room.

Briskly ducking back into the outer room and hiding behind the side of the door, there was now an unaccounted for third. That was annoying. They'd definitely start screaming and shouting. There was no question of her being able to knock them around quickly, but that'd make a bunch of noise and then stealth would be out the window and—Well, she didn't really want to be nagged at for botching a part of a mission, let alone the team's first drop together. Before Akula could adapt, however, it seems Deadshot took it upon himself to deal with them, perhaps for the best. He was sneakier with that camouflage than she was and got the drop on them before they could make too much noise.

Stepping out from the doorway and entering the room, Yakovna stared at the two dead before looking to the one left alive. Her sight then raised to meet with her partner's, to which he offered at least some consolation prize correlating to her joke back on the pelican. Appearing almost disappointed, she shrugs.

"Well... that works... I guess," Akula mused before freezing at a sudden realization.

She once again looked to her ally, her posture appearing shocked.

"Wai-that... Was that... Did you just make a joke?" She questioned with surprise before releasing a sigh filled with relief. "Huh... Silver lining... I didn't even know you could talk."
[/fieldbox]

 

[BoxBob³]

[fieldbox="Pleiades Seven, cyan, dotted"]Alex had a moment of hesitation in which he almost struck the tertiary objective he'd established down before even the Spartans inhuman reaction speeds would have been able to catch it, and thereby act upon the objective which truthfully, wasn't particularly out of place or strange given the caliber of soldier they were deployed with, and against. An artificial intelligence granted access to an opposition's network was a boon to any operation that was deployed, from there, an artificial intelligence, unopposed, would run roughshod over any security defenses or measures one may put in place apart from a defensive AI within the network to act as an administrator. Despite this, they had no technically gifted Spartan on the field, at least anyone specialized in doing such things, that could act as a scalpel to insert the AI's original connection to the network. There was such a moment of hesitation, he nearly made a double take as Martin's body language suggested that he was in progress on starting that objective, cancelling it was too late now, so Alex left that objective standing for now, slowly fading it out as the Spartan worked, and jumping into the opposition's network much more like a diver than a infiltrator, the small ripple of electronic power usage fluctuating about his entrance point the splash to inform anyone watching of the disturbance.

That's what made the lack of a response all the more disturbing as he 'looked' around the area he'd been connected to, like kicking in a door only to find that a house was entirely deserted hours ago. He'd been connected to a vent fan controller that helped regulate air flow and temperature in this section of the building, from there he hopped to the thermostat connected to the vent fan, from there, the networking device linked to a nearby security camera. The security camera let him into the security station itself, and through the alarm system, notably untriggered thus far as of yet as Alex could observe, into the whole of the network itself. It was still quite compartmentalized, but he seemed to have unmitigated access to this portion of the facility. It was slightly disorienting, after all, Martin's hands had hardly stopped working even, yet he was staring at them as if he was the de facto head of security. What perhaps disturbed him more was the lack of any hostiles in the security booth, a corpse, cooled by now, was the only observer of the security feeds.

This was a sloppy mistake, even by amateur standards, while he knew they'd be facing cameras shortly, even the most bored of defenders could have observed the corpses visible on the feeds. While he couldn't brush them away in reality, he could make them appear quite hale, healthy, and alert to the feeds for now, though the fact that the corpses had been visible, along with the Spartan's clearly hostile activity, and yet neither had caused any alarm, somehow acted as more of a red flag than a relief. The heat signature of the security room would suggest that any guard on duty had currently taken a very, very long break to the restroom, and that he'd been alone, neither of which matched the profile he'd built thus far of the professional seeming soldiers who held the facility. As he began to ensure operational security by keeping the security feeds seemingly clean, he found a small dilemma in the ongoing siege up front.

Originally he'd switched to observing the nearby camera feed to the 'front line' as part of his own growing interest in what seemed like 'black holes' of the facility's power grid, and how a very, very large amount of power seemed to disappear into nowhere, to devices not connected, or added on recently by the new defenders. He was working on a theory that perhaps these were places where the upper facility fed into a lower, isolated black site of sorts, and how this may match with gaps in the schematics, electrical and otherwise of the building. His mind couldn't help but freeze up slightly as he began to observe what could only be described as fascinating in the same way as one may be shocked into stillness by observing a plane crash.

An insurgent, carrying an M41 anti-tank rocket launcher was running, head ducked, for the armored shutters that served as cover for the defenders currently, the weapons profile indicated it was loaded with two rockets, even if there wasn't a hard target for the launcher to engage. The insurgent reached cover, and Alex was forced to spend what appeared to his mind be hours, watching as the man re-checked to see if he was ready to fire, as Alex breached the security of the shutter he hid behind. His body posture shifted, suggesting he was standing, to reach a ready to fire position, and the AI was left watching external cameras as bullets pitted the plating he was hiding behind. If Alex lowered that plating, the FMJ rounds currently being deployed by the marines would puncture the otherwise thin walls in moments, killing the man before he could fire the weapon he'd just brought to the front lines. The insurgents in the building would be notified that their security had been breached once the confusion had died down, and the squad inside would be put at risk.

So instead, Alex watched as the hostile target stood, taking aim for just a moment at a temporary barricade the attacking marines had deployed, the two fresh-faced recruits standing behind it pouring fire at various points into the building, the muzzle flashes making them immediate, instinctual targets for the launcher. Alex had time to pull up their personnel files, view their lives compressed into a small blurb of places they'd been, notes on jobs they'd held, previous relationships, next of kin, but not enough time to warn them, and not the moral obligation to save them. Instead he was quiet as he saw one of them go wide-eyed at the sight, starting to call out what he'd spotted, their weapons too slow to shift targets. The rocket streaked from the otherwise harmless looking tube, flying towards the attackers' position, reducing the barrier, and one of the marines behind it, to debris. The other wasn't much luckier, Alex observed, distantly, and wordlessly as he clutched at the new perforations in his neck, choking on his own blood as the marines laid suppressive fire into the origin of the rocket, failing to hit the insurgent as he ducked behind cover again.

Suddenly lucid, Alex simply marked a mechanical note in the operational file of the two casualties, the observed armament, and decided not to burden the Spartans with the update from the front. They had work to do still.[/fieldbox]

 

[Detective Zero]

[fieldbox=Seras-762, crimson, solid]Separated from the rest of the team, someone had to stick behind on Bravo's side of operations. While it probably wasn't something she'd prefer to what Alpha team was doing, it was imperative somebody oversaw activity for both sides of the field. This particular Spartan also happened to be the very tech engineer the others inside were hoping to have on hand. What she was doing here was anybody's guess as well as hers. Camped out behind a rocky hill out of the facility's direct line of sight, Spartan 762, otherwise known as 'Jacket' or 'Foxtrot-Tango' Sierra seven-six-two, Seras was overlooking what supplies the men on Bravo were dealing with for their push.

"Current logistics.. Fair enough condition for this sort of shit.. Situation of the AO.. Equally a shitshow, neither side budging. The others get the fun part inside while I have to wait to even do anything here.. I make my presence known and the hostiles will start flipping shit there's a Spartan deployed in the field and then things get messier... Well.." Looking left and right, she walked over to another crate, before she pulls out a smaller weapons case, popping it open as she handed it to an oncoming marine, "Left field, four o'clock, give our boys some support. Relay to squad four to help squad one hold the line, they're pulling in A-T ordinance." After that, she pulled off netting of something laying nearby, messing with the TACPAD on her arm before a drone came to life, floating at head level with her.

Coining in on the uplinked comms, Seras spoke up, at least with Pleiades Seven listening in on the channels for the operation, "Be advised, deploying scout drone, callsign [JACKET-2] keeping it quiet and low for a stronger field of surveillance and counter-op opportunities. Your access is free if you ever feel like it when you're done toying with the facility, Seven." It was something at least, and until the order was given, she had to keep low. Probably wasn't just her either, but a part of her wanted the others to make par time. Like some of the others, if anything, she'd probably be the most vocal on calling what may be bullshittery among the intel.[/fieldbox]

 

[RedArmyShogun]

[fieldbox= Montgomery S-B53, green, solid]

Sighing slightly in agitation as The scared War boomed inside of his helmet, Redcoat found this whole situation to be rather..boring. Well at least it was the good sort of boring, but still it didn't change the fact he was used to assault tactics and defensive operations.

Being called forward with the rest, the Chief was quick to move wanting to get a leg up over his CO, while the younger was well trained hard earned experience was, well hard earned. "Don't remove the helmet carelessly. Might run the risk of tripping the dead mans toggle in that bucket, his com goes off and they'll come looking. Keep an eye out, either these men are bloody Amateurs or we have a forth man on the loose or more down the corridor. No such thing as a Three Man Fireteam."

Well that wasn't totally true, heavy losses and the like could always limit one to using two men, but it was equally possible the fourth was away on a piss break. Seras could prove useful here, but that wasn't his place, hopefully the other teams were fine.

"You two carry on, I'm going to be right out here, if you decide to rough him up a bit be careful of the bloody coms, Khan should be here shortly."

Shouldering his LMG the NCO eyes the pair from his visor before backing out, taking up position to cover the Lieutenant, last thing they needed was a dead squad from a lucky Grenade throw.

[/fieldbox]

 

[Psyker Landshark]

[fieldbox=Jacob-833, #ffff4d, solid]
As Bravo Team's scout, Jacob-833 had already been quietly inserted close to the mission area beforehand, having kept watch over the facility from a good distance away until Alpha Team had dropped. As a result, he was rather unsurprised at Alex's summarization of the situation. This assignment could've been handed over to ODSTs without issue. Considering the sloppiness of the opposition, ODSTs wouldn't have had trouble with this either. ONI definitely wanted SPARTANs on location for a reason.

Viper stayed prone in his overwatch position over the facility, scanning the area through the scope of his DMR as he keyed his comms in. The hill he was on opposite Seras-762's gave them both a good field of fire to cover multiple angles of the facility.

"Alpha Team, Alex, this is Viper. Do you copy? In overwatch position, ready to provide covering fire. Patching you in to my tacvision now, Alex." Viper lowered his aim for a moment to tap the TACPAD on his wrist, giving the team's resident AI access to his helmet's enhanced tactical visor. He was a sharp eye on his own, but letting an AI look through his readouts wouldn't hurt either.
[/fieldbox]

 

[Wrath]

[fieldbox=Joeseph - ODST, #556B2F, solid] Joseph was pissed to say the least, he'd been ready and deployed with his squad within minutes of the alarm going off putting the thirty-minute notice to move time to shame. Boots on the ground and fighting within the hour of the incident occurring. The firefight mostly outside the facility had been dealt with and the troops were pushing them back inside the compound before they had the order to hold their position.

Seemingly out of nowhere command had decided to call in Spartans and if the halt hadn't got him thinking, then that massive deployment would have. He didn't see them, but he heard the chatter of a couple of guys catching glimpses of them. He didn't know what to think or feel, on one side he looked up to them but on the other hand, this was their fight and not the Spartans. All they had really done at this point is secure a high-risk landing zone for them and keep the perimeter secure from insurgents trying to escape.

Let's roll out the red carpet while we're at it.

"I'm getting real sick of this shit." My squad lead sighed, we had just taken down an enemy squad and this gave us the perfect chance to push into the facility but we were ordered to hold.

"What do you think it is?" Jambo asked.

"Probably an ONI blacksite, I mean we're the 105th Spec Ops Capable aren't we? So it has to be something really fuckin' dark for us not to go in and for Spartans to be here." Squad lead answered.

"We could slip past command by offering grunt work to them?"

"The typical 'we'll clean up and provide a distraction'"

"Exactly."

"Yeah fuck staying here." Squad lead nodded and opened up his comm system. "105th ODST ready to push in and make some noise, standing by for tasking."

I loaded an HE round into my underslung grenade launcher. Sometimes the best thing about ONI is that they tell our team one thing and Spartans another.

It just needs a push to get wires crossed.
[/fieldbox]

 

[AceSorcerer]

[fieldbox=Martin-718, grey, solid, 8, stencil]After a few blips, a flood of new data appeared on the HUDs of Alpha Team after some rewiring and the grinding of a panel being lowered back into place. Holstering his pistol, the lieutenant spoke up and addressed his team.

"Alphas, listen up. I was able to extact a few floorplans and a bunch of logs through indirect acess thanks to that maintenance panel. Seven, I want you to analyze all of the video, audio, and written logs and point out anything you think is useful. If you have enough data, get us names, faces, and a basic timeline for what happened before the first marines arrived. If any of you want to see the floorplan, it should show up in semi-transparent mode on your HUDs. We entered through the emergency exit without activiating the alarm systems. It appears the closet to our left is supply and the two rooms to our right are general storage. I'm marking them for sweep after we take these enemies down. Beyond the corner is the connecting corridor that leads to the first floor security station as well as the main entryway. For now, we need to find that fourth man and take the station."

The lieutenant quickly went silent as one of the doors next to him rattled. Drawing his knife, the blade soon found its way into the throat of the fourth fireteam member followed by a snap of the neck. Pulling out the blade and drying it off on the enemy's armor before sheathing it, he spoke again after removing the helmet from the foe and giving a sigh of relief as he inspected the body before his BR-85 reappeared, looking forward.

"Scratch that- forcus on taking the security station. From there we should be able to plan out next move. Chief, take point. If you see any active cameras, take them out. They didn't seem to be online when I looked through the maintenance hatch but what I could see was limited. Keep quiet and hit hard, people."
[/fieldbox]