I do believe in Spooks...

A technician entered a sequence of keys on the terminal next to a glazed over cryo pod. Within minutes the glass cleared to reveal a scantily clad Betty hooked up to several monitors, with cryo tubes down her throat. The sound of hydraulics hissed through the room as the glass cover lifted, and the tube moved to right itself in a vertical position. Betty's eyes slowly blinked open and as her feet took on her own weight she leaned forward as she pulled the tubes from her throat; vomiting up the cryo fluids with it.

After clearing the contents of her stomach she stood straight. "You'd think..." she began speaking between dry heaves, to the technician at her side who was handing her a glass of electrolyte and antioxidant enriched water. "After Gods know how many times... that'd get easier." The technician tried to assist her to a medical bed but Betty brushed off his help as she walked over on shaky legs and slowly lifted herself onto the table. When she started dry-heaving some more the technician handed her a bowl to vomit in should she need to.

"Can you tell me your name and date of birth, please?" The kid with the glasses asked her, the first question in a standard line of many one usually heard after awaking from cryo-stasis.

Betty had answered the question hundreds of times, but still it gave her pause and she had to think for a while. "Uh..." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Black... Elizabeth Deirdre Black. Betty... Born, umm, April 16th, 2526."

"And your rank and station please?"

"Ah, Jesus Christ... Uh." She closed her eyes tight again. "Lieu-First Lieutenant; currently stationed on the... On the... UNSC-Illustrious? Under the command of... Major... Connelly? Yeah."

The technician continued to check her vitals as he questioned her further, Betty, hating hospitals and doctors, did her best to be cooperative so it would be over as soon as possible. The squints always bothered her.

When she was done with her check-up the technician handed her a towel which she used to dry her hair and arms before she stood and made her way over to a computer terminal. "Excuse me, Lance, was it?" She asked after she brought up her current orders and compared them to the current date. Her brow was furrowed in concern.

Lance turned from where he was checking on the other residents whom he'd be waking up shortly. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Chrono shows we're only fourteen weeks out, but according to my orders it says we're supposed to be under for another twelve. Why the early wake-up call?"

"Because someone's been pulling some strings that even I can't cut." A deep baritone voice sounded from her left.

Betty immediately turned and stood at full attention, with her hand raised to her forehead in a salute; the fact that she was in naught but her skivvies not fazing her in the slightest.

The Major returned her salute. "At ease, Lieutenant." Betty changed her stance to place her feet shoulder width apart and her hands twined behind her back. "My apologies for the early rise, Betty, but something's come up that requires the particular skills of you and your team."

"And what is that, sir?" Betty asked, not liking her strings being pulled anymore than the Major.

"Suit up and meet me in Command at 0600 hours where you'll be briefed on your new assignment."

Betty's spidey sense was tingling and she didn't like this one bit. For the Major's own feathers to be ruffled it could only mean one thing; Spooks. "Can I ask you one question, Major?" Connelly nodded. "Is ONI involved, sir?"

The Major sighed but didn't answer her; his silence in itself answering for him. "0600 hours, Lieutenant."

Betty nodded, "Yes, sir." She returned to attention once more as she saluted the Major when he left. Betty didn't break her attentive stance until the cryo-bay doors closed behind him. With a grumble and a scowl, Betty turned and headed towards the locker room to get her gear. It was 0530 already and when the Major said suit up, it usually meant full battle armour, which was no easy task to do alone; so she had to get cracking

~~~~~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later found her outside of the Major's private command deck in her full ODST gear, the hair left unshaved at the crown of her head was pulled back in a tight braid; the hood to her body suit which normally covered her head was bunched at the back of her neck. After she was commed in, she greeted the Major with a salute, not missing the two shining polarized visors gathered around the holgraphic strategy table. Spartans... She'd never understood why they insisted on wearing their helmets at every fucking meeting. They already had the intimidation factor down with their sheer size, did they really need the helmets to add to that?

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Lieutenant." The Major greeted, indicating for her to join them around the table.

"Of course, sir. Not like I could be out huntin' or nothin'."

"Lieutenant Black, meet Spartans 120 and 064." Betty nodded to each one in turn as she walked to the table and set her helmet down on the edge. "Well, Chief." The Major addressed Gideon. "Seeing as how this is your circus, would you care to start the show?"

The vastness of space. A great empty hole in which even for all that one may find in it, there will always be the space that is untouched, the emptiness.

In one of the large cargo holds of the UNSC Babylon, a highly covert Prowler stealth corvette, stood a single life form, a super soldier created to fight, and nothing more. He stared blankly against the freight doors, his keen eyes peering through his visor unseen by the people that weren’t even around him.
Gideon-064, a personal project of high priority ONI personnel, was prepared for an upcoming assignment, the likes of which he was highly unused too; operating alongside the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers.

In the far end of the hold, two of the thick titanium plate doors slid open, revealing a trio of men who, in the daunting light of the hallway, almost looked as if they had stepped out from the pits of the abyss.

To the left and right of the short man in the center stood two thick men, coated in powerful armour coating, the Semi-Powered Infiltration armour suits. These two decommissioned SPARTAN-IIIs were always armed, and above all they were always seen with the man between them, the man they were personally trusted with guarding, the Commander of the ship, Commander Donello Mattews.

Turning on his feet, Sierra-064 saluted the Commander respectfully, his metal gauntlet clinking softly against the plated helmet, while the black suited civilian did little more than nod as an acknowledgement for the SPARTANs very existence. “Commander.” The man looked up at the tall warrior, his eyes connected with the camera uplink that sent an image of the layout to the SPARTANs HUD.

“Odin, good to see you’re already down here. You wont get a chance to borrow ammo or intel once you’re on-board with the UNSC, I trust you’re properly equipped. And remember, you need to keep your information sharing at a minimum, this is a highly fragile situation.”
The SPARTAN did little more than nod to his commanding officer, and with a swift gesture of response, the Commander made his way out of the hold, his guards emotionless as they accompanied him, like the demonic guardians of Tartarus itself. The doors closed with a silent shudder, and again, the hold was bereft of life beyond that of a single super soldier who never truly knew what life was.

~~~

A handshake. That was all it had been, when Sierra-064 first met Major El’Musharif on the UNSC-Battleship Illustrious. He wasn’t very talkative, mind you not many were when it came to the nearly seven foot tall armoured killing machines that were the SPARTANs. All he said was a hello, and that the rest of the team would be here soon.

When the second SPARTAN entered the room, only two words broke the silence, again, from the Majors mouth. “Sierra-120.”

The silence that loomed in this room was practically poisonous. Any chance at perhaps striking conversation with the other SPARTAN or the current commanding officer was useless, he could already tell that any word would be tainted by the endless emptiness of silence.

When the doors opened again, Sierra-064 was admittedly quite surprised by the personnel that entered. The obvious leader of the Orbital Drop Shock Trooper squad, but not exactly what he’d expected. He was expecting a tall soldier, with thick upper torso and impressive presence in the room.
Don’t misunderstand, the Trooper was still well sized and quite intimidating for a Helljumper, but one thing was quite obvious; the soldier was a woman. She had a lithe frame, a feminine figure… not something commonly cited in the squad leaders during these kinds of tasks.

After the Major and Lieutenant shared pleasantries, and after the Major introduced the two super soldiers, the Lieutenant presented to Sierra-064 the chance to begin to his briefing. “Yes ma’am.”
Sierra-064 stepped forward and activated one of the many panels on the holographic table before them, bringing up a small map of a UNSC research facility.

“UNSC Research Facility Oscar-074, now a captured and highly important point for reconnaissance. The station holds sensitive research on Covenant transmission data, which if properly functioned by the Rebels that have captured it, could threaten attempted relations between the Sangheili.”
Sierra-064 stood motionless at the table, only flicking through the hologram every now and again to rotate towards the other participants while enhancing notable weak spots and scout blind zones.

“The goal is simple; gather the data from the facility and get out. This is reconnaissance and espionage; we must go unnoticed during infiltration, if the Rebels uncover us before we have the data, they will almost certainly destroy it.”

“The seven of us will drop in on this location with Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicles, where we will set up a small point of extraction to prepare for the outcomes of the mission; Rally Point Alpha.”
Upon the table, the hologram began to pan out far, revealing the situation of the facility; within a massive deep ravine, the facility itself mostly buried within the northern cliff face.

In the lowest point of the hologram, a small tunnel blinked gold to draw the eyes. The location that would overall begin this infiltration and extraction.
“This location is a small service tunnel that leads deep into the facility. You and your team,” Sierra-064 motioned towards Lieutenant Black with his words. “will begin the infiltration here.”

The map spun again as it zoomed in on three locations, an overhanging ledge near Rally Point Alpha, a sentry tower near the far right of the Facility, and the recently examined service tunnel.

Each target was lit up with text, which lead to the next topic.
“Your team will infiltrate the service tunnel, where you will be expected to get as far in as possible and as close to the intel before Sierra-120 begins the assault.” The sentry tower blinked momentarily, another indication of importance.
“Sierra-120 will overrun the tower with silent takedowns on the few scouts within, and will set up a point of communication. Once this is achieved he will alert the Lieutenant and myself, and I will give permissions to begin the extraction. At that point, you and your team will be expected to have the intel and quickly make your way out of the Facility, whilst Sierra-120 relays patrol routes and station changes.”

The tower, service tunnel, and ledge all faded away, as a new golden portion lit up; a vertical golden line that went up from the bottom of the canyon to the top near the ledge.
“This is how you two and the team will extract. You will need to scale the cliff face first to get down, and then again to get back up. These will be the most difficult portions of the overall assignment, because all of you will be ineptly restrained. At this point, I will have to ensure that any of the Rebels firing upon you or following you are terminated.”

The hologram shuts down, and Sierra-064 looks back to his fellow SPARTAN and to the Lieutenant. While he’d been speaking, he had opened an uplink between Sierra-120 and the Lieutenant and begun transfers of the assignment details, of course keeping those specifically for him disclosed from the transfer.
A map and a simple summary of the briefing were all that really mattered of the data, and as such were being sent with only minimal information of the exterior files.

“This mission is a highly covert stealth assignment. We cannot afford to have any casualties. We can afford to have anyone captured. Lethal force is highly authorized if the mission goes awry.”
Sierra-064 took a step back, expecting many questions; he had been told not to divulge too much, this wasn’t a mission for the UNSC to really be involved in. In fact, this was all mostly unimportant to ONI, they had another goal in mind that made the intel assignment a waste of time, if not for the two missions correlation with one another, they wouldn’t have even bothered with it.

“Questions, queries, or concerns should be voiced now.”

Matt was a bit suprised when he was pulled off of Gold Team to be assigned to this highly classified operation, and with a minimum amount of operational intelligence that he would most likely be recieving, he was already a bit uneasy when he arrived on the ship. When he arrived on the Babylon, his uneasiness was hightened with the amount of officers present at the meeting.

Matt then consulted his A.I. Diana and asked her "Diana, who the hell am I going to be dealing with here?" Diana, with the tone of a patient mother told Matt "I recognize Donello Williams from what I gleaned from official records. The same with the major. The other Spartan in the room besides you, I can get nothing about."

Matt, his curiosity now piqued, asked "How come you can't get anything on him? Are his records erased, or are they classified?"

Diana, audibly sighed over the comm and went through the data again, saying to Matt "They're classified. But the classification is beyond what goes for anyone in ONI. As far as what this infers, I leave that for for your judgement." Matt, suprised at Diana's statement said "Well, that just means I'm his very public counterbalance. Keep me updated during the briefing if need be."

Diana, in a digital equivalent of an ironic salute, said "Copy that Matt. I'll keep my eyes and ears open." Then Diana's presence winked out of his head, and then he felt truly alone in his armor and in the room.

~~~

As he was introduced, he looked to the ODST squad commander. Diana was immediate in her response "1st Leuitenant Elisabeth Black. Gaduated near top of her class after completing ODST training, highly decorated unit commander withon the 57th Overlanders. Her squad of ODSTs was pulled to provide extra muscle." She then left, havong dispensed that crumb of information.

Matt kept stoic during the breifing, Diana providing bits of additional information as the holograms kept appearing. Matt was bit dissapointed at the roll that he would play in the entire operation. He would merely be playing messenger boy, a role that he felt was a waste of his skills and his experience. But Matt, knowing that the stakes in this operation were high, sucked it up and poured over the data that he was recieving.

Matt, looking at the data he recieved, didn't have any questions, knowing Diana could fill in the gaps for him faster than the Spartan in front of him could. Matt said to himself, "Well, this is going to be very interesting." He then waited for the right time in which he could start his prep work.

Betty paid close attention to what 064 was saying as he laid out their plan in black and white... So to speak. She was paying even closer attention, however, to what he wasn't saying. Her experience with ONI might not fill up more than a log or two, but what little experience she did have with them, she knew they were sneaky bastards who were obsessed with shadow games and illusions. Like magicians, they were... Keep your focus on one thing over here while they do something else over there... Then before you know it you've been sawed in half or dunked in an inescapable tank of water without the key... She also knew, from personal experience, that most of them tended to view anyone outside their close knit circle of operatives as expendable, as long as their end goal was achieved.

Betty briefly sifted through all the info on the tacpad on her arm. She'd go over it more in detail with her visor later. She wasn't going into this without memorizing the plan, their path and their objectives. She also made a point of never going into any mission without have at least 3 or 4 back-up plans. Some would call her paranoid, she just saw it as being prepared. One could never predict the outcome of a mission; especially when spooks were involved. ONI might have a tendency to see outside operatives and soldiers as expendable compared to their end goals, but that didn't mean Betty was about to risk their lives for no reason.

Betty leaned her hands on the holographic table, gazing at the map for a long time. "I have a question, 'Odin' is it?" She had briefly glanced at the available information on his file, which wasn't much without the proper classification. Still, she at least got his name. "Is there an actual point behind this goose chase you're about to lead us on, or are me and my men just the acting decoy while you go after the real target?"

"Lieutenant." Major Connelly had a warning tone to his voice.

"I'm sorry, sir, but this is not just my life they're asking for here! If it were, you know I'd be there with bells on!" She shook her head, gripping onto the edge of the table. "If you're gonna ask me to whore my men out, they deserve to know who and what they're bending over for!"

"Lieutenant! That's enough!" Connelly slammed his fist down on the table.

Betty promptly stood to attention. The Major moved in front of her, standing with his face mere milimeters from her own. "Let's get one thing straight here, Lieutenant. The only orders you are following here are mine; and those orders are for you to provide your utmost cooperation and expertise to this mission, under the command of Sierra-064. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Major Connelly, sir!" Betty's jaw muscles worked as she fought to bite her tongue. She knew the Major wouldn't be sending them on a suicide mission. He had every belief and intention that they'd all make it back in one piece. Whatever dangers they'd be up against, he had more than enough faith in Betty and her small band of brothers. They'd get the job done... And ONI would owe him one. It was win-win.

"Now, if you're done here, I believe you have a team to brief and prepare."

"Yes, sir." Betty saluted the Major, who returned the salute with a penetrating look.

Betty then grabbed her helmet, but before she turned to leave she momentarily met the gaze of each of her new Spartan comrades. Well, more accurately she focused on a spot on their faceplates that would most likely be where their eyes were. Sierra-120 was known to the UNSC, and while Betty had never personally worked with him before, only ever maybe seeing him in passing, but she knew where his loyalties lay. 064 on the other hand was the wild card in this scenario. She knew next to nothing about him, and that reason more than anything is what aggravated the most. Her team's success could mostly be attributed to the fact that Betty never entered a situation or a mission without examining every angle and going over every fact; theorizing multiple types of scenarios they would encounter and how best to go about them. She wouldn't be calling the shots once they were out there though. She'd have to trust two complete strangers with the safety of her men; her family. That she disliked above all else.

When she left the briefing room, she wasted no time in making her way back to the cryo bay. Just like the Major had said; she had a team of soldiers to brief.


~~~~~~~~~~

0800 hours found her team in the armoury loading up for their mission. It had taken some cajoling and reassurances on her part to get her boys to be cool with the fact that they weren't just working with a couple unknown Spartans(well unknown to them), but that they were being led on a leash with ONI at the other end.

"How ya holdin' up, chere?" Shaman stepped up next to her as she loaded her chest plate that had been equipped for extra storage.

"I'm fine, Fred." Fred's hand was suddenly on her shoulder, a gesture of comfort and support. Betty closed her eyes and took a deep breath in. Fred had known her the longest, served with her the longest, so he was the only one among them who knew the real reason behind why Betty hated ONI so much. The events surrounding her hatred weren't even documented anywhere anymore, at least not that she was aware of or had access to; almost like it never even happened. Betty idly rubbed at the scar that ran across her jaw and down her neck.

"Elizabet'-" Fred started

"I'm fine!" She snapped as her hand dropped; her outburst momentarily stopping the other's idle chit chat to glance at the duo. Betty glances around at the others, telling them with one look to mind their own business. "I'm fine, Freddy, really. I just wanna get this over with." Betty secured her machete in the specialized slot created for it on her back plate. "The sooner we get in, the sooner we can get this intel o' theirs an' the sooner we can get back home. Bing, bang, boom! We're in, we're out, we're done, a'right?" She then secured her sidearm to her hip.

"Just as long as ya sure ya gwoine ta be here wit' da rest of us, chere?" Freddy questioned, wanting to make sure her head was on the mission and not on the past.

Betty slid her combat knife up through the slot in her breast plate. "No place else I'd rather be, Freddy. Just do the job. Ya can buy me a hard drink when it's over, a'right? Preferably somethin' named Jim or Jack."

When Betty finished loading her shotgun, she secured it to her back. She then pulled the hood of her body suit up over her hair and lifted her helmet onto her head, securing it with a soft hiss as it pressurized to her suit. The others followed her and donned their helmets as well. Betty then moved to stand and address them one last time, speaking over their team channel. "Anybody not ready for this?" A chorus of cocking weapons was her only response which made Betty smile behind her visor. One by one they exited the armoury and made their way to the hangar to meet up with their new Spartan friends.

The Lieutenant was getting jumpy. Sierra-064 could tell just from her motions, she was listening and taking it in, but she wasn't as trusting as he'd hoped. She could see through the ruse ONI was painting. A mission to gather intel that wasn't being openly shared, it was easy to sift through. Thankfully, the Major understood the seriousness of the mission. Silencing the Lieutenant was something Sierra-064 took not on, and would remember later.

Mind you, it's not like she would've been hard to silence. She was asking fairly straight forward questions, and ones voiced by soldiers not for the first time. A contact with ONI was needed desperately now; he didn't want a CO that was willing to follow orders for a mission she didn't like. If he was able to, Sierra-064 would make sure to forward the information on the intel as soon as he could, as secret as it may be. Ensuring a team was capable of working together is something that makes the team stand out, a lesson he learnt long ago, and one he's sure and ODST, of all soldiers, would understand.
When the Lieutenant left, only himself, Major Connelly, and Sierra-120 were left. Both would be key to talk too, but not just yet.

"Thank you for settling the situation, Major." Sierra-064 wasn't one for humbling comments, but he felt it was only fair. After all, he could feel the tension in everyone about having to work alongside a SPARTAN under ONI command, a rare site even during the war. He'd need to, above all, take heed with Sierra-120. Another SPARTAN, and one whose skills were mostly aimed at close-quarters-combat, would not find much enjoyment of release in knowingly operating as a scout, and unknowingly operating as a target. In fact, most SPARTANs would outright argue that kind of situation if they knew.
“Sierra-120, do you have any comments you’d like make about the task?”

Sierra-064 was swift to silence his own communiqué and begin operating a most elusive stratagem for contacting his superiors onboard the UNSC Babylon. They were already silently responding with the uplinked brainwave communications, a strategy mostly integrated into his helmet and systems due to lack of Artificial Intelligence.
The responses were fast on both sides, and soon, he had the confirmation he needed, to ensure that if the Lieutenant doubted her superiors again, Sierra-064 and ONI had information on the assignment that should willingly and easily silence her fears.

~~~

Aboard the UNSC Babylon, Commander Donello Mattews huffed angrily as the situation onboard the Illustrious was relayed too him. “Of course the Lieutenant acted out. ODSTs always feel like they have it firmest, and when they’re ‘high ranking’ they begin to feel like they’re indebted to something.” He stood up and paced slowly, his guards watching his every move whilst the liaison for the communications crew stood at attention.

“I want you to make sure you don’t send all those files to Odin. Even in his situation, he can’t know too much, and neither can they. We don’t want the UNSC poking their noses in something they don’t comprehend. If we had men as expendable as the ODSTs, the UNSC wouldn’t even be aware of this assignment until after it was completed.”
The Commander opened up a file on the holographic display above his desk, and swiftly wiped a few portions off of the display, before closing it back up. “That should do it.”

The associate bowed courteously as he watched data rapidly shrink away into the deeper files of ONIs information highway, and made his way out of the room, leaving only the two silent guards and the Commander. The Commander sat back down on his seat, and let out a long heavy sigh.
“It was going so well. Sierra-120 was silent, the Major was cooperating, and then the Lieutenant had to open her mouth.”
He began to open up files, searching for the name ‘Elizabeth Dierdre Black’. And he found little to nothing of note beyond some beatings when she was young and her military career. No indication as to what tempted her reaction to the information, so that left the Commander with only one assumption, the same one made with most people that were forced to affiliate with ONI.

“We need to find out more about this woman. If she doesn’t like ONI, we could have a possible threat to the integrity of the assignment.” And as he was done speaking, one of the guard spoke, the first time he had spoken openly to the Commander in nearly three years.
“Sir, may I ask something?” The Commander nodded, ignoring the oddness, as the guard stepped forward hesitantly. “What is the assignment, sir?” The Commander looked deep into the visor of the discharged SPARTAN-III, and smiled astutely. It was a question that he’d been hoping for sooner or later. “I’d be more than happy to inform you, Lieutenant.”

Matt, unlike what Spartan-064 saw from Matt's body motions, Matt was honestly quite angry. Matt had previous trouble with his temper, and most ONI members knew of his temper. It was, in the minds of ONI, something not to let in the open. Of course, this had lead to a near blacklisting by some of the UNSC's top brass. Only his record spoke positively about him. His records both as a Spartan and black ops warrior we're only rivalled by other Spartans and some ODST regiments. Over that time, he learned how to keep his anger from visibly showing, a typically diplomatic skill not common among soldiers he knew. He could see that the other Spartan had inherited the same skill.

Matt, said to himself in his helmet "This is a damn waste of my skill...the Old Bat must have me on her damn blacklist, the old witch. Well...lets get ammo and meet the team."

Matt looked as the rest filed out of the room, the ODSTs were first. Matt followed suit, filing out behind the major. He looked back, 064 being the only one left in the room. Matt said, "Hey Di, you still there?" Diana, in an equivalent of sleepiness said, "Yep, I'm still here Matt." Matt asked "You catch all of that? Even my insertion point?"

Diana, gave him a digital nod, saying "Indeed I did. Not even ONI knew I copied it as the meeting went on." Matt grinned under his helmet. Diana always had a knack for doing the sliest things under ONI's nose. Matt said "You're the best little hunter I know, Di. Thanks." Diana, wotha trace glee in her voice said "Thanks Matt. A girl always enjoys a compliment."

Matt then got to the armory, where he equipped himself with the necessary equipment that he would need for the coming operation. Matt said to himself "Well...working with these ODSTs should be interesting, to say the least." He then got the weapons that he would need for the op, what Matt called 'the bare necessities':His silenced magnum pistol with ammunition, flashbang and EMP grenades, silenced AR, serrated combat knife, and his trusty shotgun with ammunition. Matt, now satified he was ready for the operation, slung his rifle and shotgun over his right shoulder, and proceeded to head to the hanger to meet the ODSTs that he would be working with on this operation.

~~~

As Matt made his way to the hangar, Diana was giving him helpful bits of information that would help him against the station's roving patrols. Matt already had a vague idea of the station's layout, because of an op he did here previously with Gold Team. Matt, even though he didn't admit it openly in the breifing, knew that the Insurrectionist presence the was partially his own fault.

We all must confront our own demons to destroy them, a saying from Matt's childhood went. Matt had dismissed it as a child, but now he knew what it meant as a grown man beyond his years. When he made his way through the hangar doors, Matt felt like Dante when the poet passed throught the gates of hell in the Inferno: Chilled, nervous and alone. Matt now braced himself for the cold reception that he would get from the ODSTs.

Matt, sitting alone in the hangar, said to himself "Well...its all up to fate now." He then looked to see the forms of the ODSTs come into the hangar in full armor, looking as imposing as the Furies of ancient Greek myth. Matt sighed deeply, knowing he was going to work with some soldiers that were younger than he was.

Betty nodded to Sierra-120. He was the one assigned to this mission by UNSC brass. She only hoped he didn't have his own agenda to follow as well. That was probably the only misgiving Betty ever had for working with Spartans. 9 times out of 10 they had orders or objectives that fell outside those in which they were briefed on pre-mission. Still, she was glad he was on their side. Made her less wary of having him at her back.

Betty's focus then caught on the plate visor of 064. Their resident wild card. Was he someone she could trust with the lives of her men as well as her own? Would he be solely focused on his own agenda, to the point that should things go awry would he abandon everything else, including the rest of his extraction team, simply to achieve his own goals? Were they being led like sheep to the slaughter just so ONI could continue playing their spy games? She didn't know... She only knew that they were playing against a loaded deck... Who knew how many aces ONI had up their sleeves or when they'd be played against them... She didn't know, and it was in that not knowing that stirred her ire the most... She'd willingly lay down her life before she let her family be fucked over by some high-on-themselves, above-the-law, secret intelligence assholes...

Betty and her team made their way over to the shuttle that would be their ride that would take them to their drop point. It was equipped with the necessary SOEIV's for the number in their team.. Betty paused at the bottom of the ramp where she motioned her her guys to file in. In the mean time she opened a private link to 064's comm. "It's probably no secret that I don't trust you any farther than I could throw you. And while there may be a reason your people chose my team; most likely because our successes far out-number our failures so perhaps they trust we'll get the job done, however let me get one thing clear to you... These men are more important to me than any part of your covert-espionage mumbo-jumbo. If I get the feeling that anything is wrong, or even so much as a whiff that we're walking intp a trap of any kind, I'm pulling the plug on the whole thing and getting my team the boot outta dodge, ya get me?" Her accent was much less apparent, almost non-existent when she was in serious mode.

"ONI might view anyone outside their little spectrum as expendable... But I don't!" The bitterness in her words was apparent. She knew firsthand just how expendable ONI thought people like her were.

Betty wondered if ONI ever stopped to think that people might be more willing to work with and/or for them if they would stop treating them like no one could be trusted. One could lead the mule much better with sugar cubes than a whip. Betty had a plethora of skills and knowledge at her disposal, along with a team of soldiers with equally useful skills who would follow her to whatever end simply because she told them to; because they trusted and respected her. She was the Alpha matriarch of their little pack; she had gotten them out of some pretty hairy situations and risked it all for them on countless occasions. For that she had earned their undying loyalty. When it all came down to it, in the field and away from the bureaucracy, it was her word they followed.

"If anything happens to them as a direct result of you and your superiors keeping me in the dark on what we're really doing down there; Spartan augmentations and ONI cover-ups be damned, I will track you down and one of us might die... Do we understand one another?""

Betty was well aware of the fact that very few outside of the Covenant Elites could go up against a Spartan and live to tell about it; which made her threat all the more grievous as to the ends she was willing to go to protect and/or avenge the. She was willing to risk anything and everything for her team; including but not limited to her life, her freedom and her career. To an extent, she had the same inclinations toward him and the other Spartan, but she wasn't about to tell them that. Just because she didn't like the situation that has forced them to work together, did not mean she wouldn't do everything in her power to make sure they made it out together. Betty would never leave a man behind if she knew there were something she could do to help or save them.

The other SPARTAN was silent, like any good SPARTAN should be. He seemed to be thinking intently on the data, simply examining it for a long while. If he was like other UNSC SPARTANs, he probably had some sort of AI analysing the information available to their files.
Hopefully they weren't copying the information; Gideon had sent them data virally, but if it was reproduced into a secondary file it could be carried under the eye of ONI, something they didn't want.

As the ODST, SPARTAN, and Major all left the briefing room, Sierra-064 was left alone. He stood silently, giving it a few minutes before he left, opening a channel with the Commander aboard the Babylon.
“Commander, the team is preparing itself. ETD 1400.”
The channel was cut off as his words finished, and Sierra-064 was admittedly quite confused by it. But there was no time to worry about it, not now right before an assignment. He turned on his shields, and silently made his way out of the room, already fully and properly equipped. A good soldier was always prepared.

~~~

The retired SPARTAN-III fell against the wall, speechless. Everything he had just been told… it was terrifying. It was like he saw the very gates of Hell opening with each of the Commanders words.
“You… you’re sending them all to a death trap, even Odin.” He was finding it hard to breath, let alone speak.

“I don’t hope for any of them to die. I hope for them to all survive this mission. Orbital Drop Shock Troopers are prime for the insertion situation, and the best class of Marine available. Sierra-120 is a highly trained SPARTAN-III that can take as much damage as he can deal out.”
The Commander stood up, and stepped around his desk and towards the terrified guard.
“Odin is my own personal project. A project of ONI. There is no chance of his own failings in this mission.” The guard shook his head, unable to listen to any more.

“Soldier, you have heard far worse in your time in ONI, though you may not have noticed.” He patted the soldiers cheek softly, smiling. “This mission will succeed. We have run every possibility, there’s only one situation that would lead to this mission deteriorating.” The Commander sat back down at his seat, silencing Odin’s comm link, ignoring it entirely.
“And what would that be, Commander?”

~~~

Sierra-064 looked over the hangar, taking a brief moment to examine the team of Drop Shock Troopers he’d be deployed with. They were mostly typical as they came, typical height, typical build, typical everything.
One of them seemed a fair amount bigger than the others, but he was most likely the heavy weapons specialist amongst the group. He’d be one to keep an eye on, he could prove a threat to the stealth aspect of the assignment.

Suddenly, a new comm link opened up, one connected to someone he didn’t expect, the Lieutenant.
She spoke powerful words, wrought with emotion and authority. As she spoke each word, Sierra-064 stayed motionless and silent, listening deeply to her words, and above all respecting her views. Having such a strong relationship with your team, it was something the SPARTAN always admired, and envied.

As her bitter words ended, words filled with history and sentiment, Sierra-064 begin to make his way down to the floor with the rest of the team. He kept the comm open.
“Ma’am, the lack of trust you hold for me is understandable. I operate under an organization that is as quiet as it is powerful. But please, do not make me sound like I do not care for soldiers taking part in an assignment they are forced into.” He begin to close in on the group, taking his time as he walked.
“I intend to make it a high priority to keep your soldiers alive. If my superiors command me to depart and leave all of you in the dirt, I will have to follow that order. But until they do that, I’ll lay down my life for the mission and those participating.”

Sierra-064 merged with the group silently, his comm only open to the Lieutenant, his helmet making it impossible for anyone else to hear. “I ask of you only one thing; do not let your lack of trust in me risk the mission success. If this goes wrong, you’re men will die. You will die. Sierra-120 will die. And I will die. It should be your top priority to keep yourself open to the assignment and cooperating with the men you’re working with.”
Silently, he began to send her the files he’d been given from the Commander. They were modified, muted, and edited in many ways, but they told you enough about the mission to at least soften her doubts.

~~~

The Commander looked at the still reeling guard, and sighed heavily.
“Guard, please recompose yourself. What I told you is the assignment of Sierra-064, Odin. The assignment I’ve sent the squad under is what they’re operating for, and is hopefully, all they’ll be worried about.”
The guard stood up and dropped his gun, breathing heavily. “What, what do you mean… The cover up mission?” The Commander nodded and smiled happily.

“The Lieutenant and her Orbital Drop Shock Troopers, and Sierra-120 are not operating for the same reason as Odin. They are going in to gather intelligence regarding the purpose of the Research Facility, in reference to a powerful armour prototype that, if used by the Rebels, could spell a great threat to our forces.” The guard clapped a hand over his mouth, putting the pieces together easily.
“No… God, not the-“ The Commander smirked and interrupted him loudly.
“So, you’ve heard of the HRUNTING/YGGDRASIL, have you?”

Matt saw the ODSTs as they breezed by him, their mannerisims bespoke their professionalism. Matt, silently going about his prep work knew that the Spartans carried their own mistique, looking like walking tanks. In fact, that was what one of the Marines on this boat told Matt personally. Matt grinned silently at the thought, knowing that The armor that encased him hid his less-than-stocky build.

Diana, in a curious tone asked Matt, "You said you've been to this facility before?" Matt sighed and said "I'd rather not talk about it." Diana, hearing these words, pressed the question "Don't worry, I can keep a secret. You can tell me anything." Matt sighed once again "It was back in the war...ONI sent me and my team on a simple torch and burn op: Get any data, and destroy the station before anyone got their hands on the intel there, human or Covenant. The whole op went south 30 seconds after we got in. ONI ordered my team out, but I defied their orders and got the some of the intel out. We didn't destroy it, though. After our return, the upper brass charged me with disobedience and nearly charged me with treason. I was busted me clear down to Liuetenant. I was angry and upset, and simply left givng them a silent salute."

Diana gave me the equivalent of an annoyed sigh and said "So, you suffered a bit of a fall from grace. What does it have to do with this operation?" Matt said pointedly "Don't you get it? This is just coming back to finish the job that I f***ed up. There is intel left there that I didn't get. Something VERY important, and could have changed the course of the damn war." He let the statement fall silent, letting it sink in.

The silence in the helmet was only broken by Diana saying "Oh...oh, my. THAT'S why you were silentduring the breifing wasn't it?" Matt nodded and said "Yeah...that's exactly why. I'm facing what caused my fall from grace with ONI." Diana said simply "Well...wouldn't ONI know about this? Oh...your record were erased when you went into the GHOST project. They don't figure you know about the intel there." Matt nodded again, and Diana went silent. Matt simply said to himself "Time to finish what I should have done. Time to clean the slate of my past mistake."

~~~

Matt went to peer over the blueprints of the outpost, eyeing where he would enter the facility. Looking at it, Matt simply nodded with a bit of satisfaction. Looking towards the awaiting shuttle, he took a deep breath and headed into the shuttle, where the ODSTs were already.

Betty listened to his voice in her ear, trying to ignore the sexy baritone quality of it, she focused on his words and inflections; trying to assess the level of sincerity and honesty in what he was saying. She hadn’t been questioning his merits or honour, simply his intentions and goals via ONI. Duty, valour and camaraderie aside, he still worked for the Spook Squad. It was only that particular aspect of him she did not completely trust. She knew most Spartans by nature were typically a bunch of boy scouts on top of being badass soldiers. She believed him when he said he’d lay down his life for his fellow soldier should the need arise. At least with that they had something in common, for she would do the same, even for him despite them having just met.

She nodded and her position towards him softened slightly. “As long’s we’re on the same page, Chief.” Just like that the Southern drawl to her accent was back with a vengeance. “We’ll get along jus’ fine. My team and I’ll get it done, you’ve naught ta fret.” She lightly punched his shoulder. The fact that he went ahead and shared with her some sensitive material gave him a few more points in her book. She wasn’t an idiot, she knew that it was probably just a peace offering to get her to play nice, and so she’d take it as such; even if she doubted she was seeing the whole picture, she wasn’t about to look a gift-horse in the mouth.

Betty turned and sashayed her way up the ramp. She expected Odin would follow seeing as they were the last two to board, so she kept speaking to him. “An' please, call me Betty. Or L-T if ya insist on some form o' perpriety. Ma’am always makes me feel old an' proper; neither o' which really apply ta me.” A playful, feminine chuckle sounded in his ear, the only indication that she was joking because he wouldn't be able to see her wink.

In the shuttle, her guys had already made themselves comfortable; well as comfortable as one could get in shuttle jump seats with two tank-sized Spartans sharing the space. “Everythin’ alright, L-T?” Wild Man's voice projected to the outside of his suit.

“Five-by-five, Bill.” She responded in like with one of his favorite catch phrases. She walked past them where she leaned against the back of the pilot’s chair, her voice still set to project outside her helmet. “We’re all set, Firebug.”

“Roger that, Lieutenant," the pilot responded as she started their launch sequence. "Command we are green for go.” Claire Simmons, aka Firebug, had been their resident pilot for lords know how many missions. She could practically be considered part of the family.

Betty returned to the main cabin as the ramp raised; the sound of the engines suddenly dwarfing any other sound in the small space. Not wanting to 'shout' above the din, Betty linked into their entire team’s designated comm channel as she spoke next. “So, Davis,” she began, directing her next question at the other Spartan on their team. “I know how my team got bunged into this shit show." Cause we didn't have a choice in the matter She finished that thought in her mind before continuing out loud. "But what exac’ly’d you do ta piss off the boys upstairs?” The question was joking in nature, but Betty actually found herself curious as to why the other Spartan had been chosen for this mission.

Matt activated his comm to the ODST and said, "064 is black hole as far as ONI is concerned. Plus ONI and the top brass have me on their blacklist for botching an op years ago." Matt let that statement hang a bit and then said again "ONI didn't give me much choice in this either, why I'm playing messenger boy and lookout on this op is beyond me." He hoped that the ODST was satisfied with the answer, because he felt that he said too much already.

He then shut down his comm, so he could talk a bit with Diana. He reviewed the blueprints once more and saw something that made him a bit curious. He asked Diana "What's that little bit in the blue prints? Because I don't remember that in my previous op here." Diana, with the tone of a kindly mother, said "That little bit that you spotted is something that the Innsurectionists added in your absence. It's almost like a service entrance for vehicles."

Matt, his curiosity officially piqued, asked "So you could fit a Spartan in there?" Diana, with characteristic patience, said "Anything smaller than a tanker truck could fit through that entrance." Matt whistled, clearly impressed how busy the Insurrectionists were in his team's absence. Matt simply said, "Interesting...looks like they've dug themselves in. Get ready." Diana then shut down as she prepared for the operation ahead.

~~~

Matt then got into his SOEIV pod and strapped himself in, knowing how much technology had a habit of breaking on him. Matt asked "Diana, could you bring up the tactictal viewer in the pod ,then list the the markers for the inseertion team?"
Diana replied one second later saying "Done. Would would you like the team displayed on your HUD?" Matt nodded, "Do it for now. Put it on my TACPAD when we've secured the sentry towers." Diana said "Copy that. Bringing up pod displays now."

Matt then saw the helmets of the two other major leaders in the operation. Matt simply nodded, waiting for when the pod would begin its stomach lurching descent.

Matt then asked Diana, "Bring up launch countdown on the HUD, please." Matt then saw the timer blink onto the upper right corner of his HUD. Matt then added "And as soon as we hit the ground, bring up the motion tracker." Diana simply said "Got you, Matt. Just be careful." Matt said "I'll do my best." Diana simply let out a digital sigh and signed off. Matt let out a slight private chuckle and braced for the drop.

Gideon-064 couldn’t quite sift through the Lieutenants words to figure out what they meant. It sounded like flirting, or at least, what he knew of flirting. Maybe she was trying to play a mind trick on him, a member of his old squad once said ‘The only known psychic was a race of people known as women’. Perhaps this is what he was talking about.
And then the accent appeared.

It was a lovely Southern accent, something Gideon-064 had only experienced with a few of the drill sergeants. But with her, it was very different. Confusingly different. When she punched his heavily armoured shoulder, he responded as if it had actually caused him to move, even though it hadn’t. Why? This was such a weird situation.
But he still continued to listen, and took note on what he imagined would be her name, Betty. First name basis in combat could get confusing; he’d more than likely use it out of combat for a quicker draw of attention, but L-T sounded more fitting for mission situations.

With the light feminine chuckle causing Gideon-064 to flinch for a second, for a brief moment the world sorta stopped. Why was this all having such an effect on him? Gideon-064 took a breath, and tried to brush it all aside for the good of the mission. He’d have to talk to someone about this all later to clear his mind.

Upon entering the shuttle, Gideon-064 took note of one thing in particular; it was cramped. More cramped than he’d expected. His own SOEIV was on the opposite side of Sierra-120s, obviously added on with those of the ODSTs. He walked over to his, and fixed his rifle in the space next to the seat, and then sat and rested in the seat.
Staring around, he could see the awkwardness of the fully armoured ODSTs in this shuttle, some of them crammed right next to a fully armed SPARTAN.

Most shuttles were small, and he expected this to be fairly small as it was, but didn’t take into account the size of the other soldiers with him, or the space taken up by the SOEIVs. It was quite awkward.
As ‘Betty’ opened the teams comm to chat with Sierra-120, the noticeable silence that followed indicated the movement to private comm. Not important, for now. With the shuttle already off, only one thing mattered, the mission. Gideon-064 was silent, and ready, as the ship made its descent.

~~~

The guard looked at his companion, standing motionless and robotic, while the Commander continued to preach.
“This was information that was, originally, thought destroyed. We did everything we had to too keep it from falling in enemy hands and from being studied or rectified. But the higher ups, and I mean Parangosky herself, were able to replicate the files that mattered and lock them down on a secret, highly guarded, yet highly hushed research facility to study and hopefully begin to project again.”

The Commander opened a file on his holographic desk, and revealed a large image of what resembled a SPARTAN, but coated in thicker armour, with massive guns and weaponry, almost like a gigantic walking tank.
“This is the HRUNTING/YGGDRASIL Mark I Prototype. This is what we had under wraps and tested during the 2530s. Sadly, the tests were wrought with problems, from exposed users to lack of simplicity.” The guard stepped forward and looked in awe and terror at the hologram, listening to every word.
“The project was only a few years ago started again. Initially, the purpose was to deal the final killing blow to the Covenant forces in the last leg of the war, but as it came to a close with the Sangheili allegiance, we instead chose to ignore it, and began to scrap the idea again and finally. This time we had a number of suits built, all able to withstand intense damage and protect the user more appropriately. While by no means simpler, it was confirmed that the suit itself could be manned by the intended SPARTAN-IIs. And by anyone willing to learn.”
The last words were filled with pain, and the guard now knew exactly why.

“So, the Rebels captured this place with no clue of the project, and now what? You’re all worried there’s a base filled with men in this insanely counter-effective armour?” The Commander held a hand to silence him, as he leant forward slowly, his hands together.
“We know there’s a base filled with men in this armour. What we’re worried about,” he stood up, walking around the desk and patting the guards shoulder.
“is what might happen if it’s replicated.”

"End of the line coming up in ten, helljumpers. Prepare for drop." Firebug's voice sounded in Betty's ear before the comm went silent.

"Alright, boys. Mount up." Betty stood with her men following suit and making their ways to their individual pods; each outfitted to accommodate each individual's armaments and proportions.

Shaman was almost as big as a Spartan even without the upgrades so he seemed just as cramped in his SOEIV as their team's new Spartan duo were. He was used to it though. Seeing as this was a mission based more on sneak tactics and stealth than firepower and brute force, Betty had opted for him to leave Big Bertha behind; so that alone eliminated some of his usual bulk so it was less cramped than it usual was for him.

Betty made a point to check each of her teammate's pod before each drop. It was the techie/mechanic in her. It wasn't that she didn't trust the engineers that maintained these things, it was more out of personal comfort if she knew everything checked out. It also gave her a chance to exchange a private farewell or words of encouragement with each of her men; one can never tell what will happen on a drop. They didn't call it helljumping for nothing.

Betty even stopped at Matt's pod. She performed the same statistics and diagnostics check on his pod that she did on the rest of her team. Her fingers moved over the display next to his pod while she opened a private link to him. "I'm not an idiot, Lieutenant. I know there's way more to this story than meets the eye. And quite frankly, I don't rightly care what that story is. Let ONI keep their secrets." She didn't look at him as she spoke, her focus was on the readout in front of her making sure she didn't miss anything as she checked for any potential glitches, errors, or anything that might have been overlooked by those who installed their pods on the ship.

"None of us like our assignments on this one, Matt. The only thing I care about is the safety of this unit, and whether you like it or not, for the time being that includes your big ass. I get that you feel it's a waste of your skills, cause it is. That bein' said, however." Her fingers stilled and her head turned to meet his polarized gaze with her own. "If you start pulling any unnecessary heroics that endanger the lives of any of my men, oh-six-four included, I will hurt you." There was an unexpectedly steely resolve to her voice and her accent all but gone in her seriousness. It was a similar threat to the one she'd given Gideon earlier, although this threat didn't have all the initial distrust and anger behind it. It was more a warning than an actual threat. Still... the potential to become a real threat was in the silver lining. She didn't give a fuck that he was some crazy God-like super soldier. If his own personal vendetta against ONI or his dislike of his newest assignment made him do something that put her team or their mission in danger he would learn first hand where the phrase 'Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned' really came from.

The screen flashed green in front of her, mirroring on her helmet that the diagnostics check was complete and no errors were found. Her fingers moved again and the screen returned to it's initial display showing a read out of the status of the pod and it's single occupant. "I'll see you on the other side, Lieutenant." She gave Davis a curt salute before she turned and crossed the short distance to Gideon's pod.

She opened a private channel to Gideon as she began performing the same check on his pod as she'd done on all the others. "I reckon a man o' yer caliber in yer position's pro'ly heard his fill o' cheesy pep talks, so I promise I'll make this short an' sweet." She shrugged subtly before continuing. "I get that most Spartans are the lone wolf types and you seem to set the bar on that one... but you're runnin' with a pack, now, and a mighty fine one at that; at least for the time bein' at any rate... I suppose what I mean say's that we're in this together, to whatever end." Distrust and dislike of the organization that was behind this mission aside, they were all about to enter the field of battle together; to fight and if it happens to be, to die alongside one another... Such a thing was not to be taken lightly. There were only a few other acts that were more intimate than the bond of battle. She didn't really like to think about the other intimate things though... They were a little too complicated for her liking, not to mention frustrating as hell...

Betty waited for the test to finish running, showing green across the board just like the others, before she turned to look up at him. "I don believe in luck, fate or most types of faith either. Things happen because people make them happen. So let's make this happen, Chief." She chuckled softly before stepping away from his pod and toward her own. She secured her shotgun before strapping herself in and running a few tests on her own pod. Finding everything to her satisfaction she began the sequence to initiate launch.

One by one each pod door slid closed and a countdown displayed on the window for each occupant to see. "When we get back from this, drinks're on me boys!" Betty said to the whole team, which was accompanied by a few cat calls and "Oo'rah's" from her team. Betty watched with baited breath and anticipation as the numbers diminished on her screen.

Betty's eyes shut tight as the numbers flashed 00:01 and a second later the weightlessness of the drop overtook her, making her stomach feel like it was in her throat. When she opened her eyes stars greeted her and a slow, excited yell built up in her stomach, trickled up her esophagus and came spewing out her mouth like some silly girl on a roller coaster ride. She loved this part.

"Yeeeee-haaa! Whooo! Thrillin'est ride in the galaxy, boys!" Did she mention she loved this part?

Gideon looked at Betty with inquisitive eyes, watching her run checks over the pods thrice and thrice again, before eventually reaching his own SOEIV. She did her checks, inspired most likely by her own personal talent for mechanics and other such equipment.

Unexpectedly, she opened up a private comm with Gideon, which made him realize he’d been in more private comms in this mission than in any other, expect perhaps Reach. But he didn’t like to think about that.
While she slowly checked his pod, something he did quite like the look of, she started a lecture, or at least what most people would class as a lecture. To him, it was another squad leader who didn’t want to see her men, her friends, her family die.
And when you’ve seen as much bloodshed and trauma as Gideon, you know exactly what they’re talking about.

The Lieutenant continued with her speech, and Gideon respected and agreed with everything she said. He had no intentions of personally leaving behind the team, to him they were all important and vital characteristics in the assignment.
If it went wrong, or if his Commander ordered he leave, he’d have no control over that, but until then he was willing to put his life on the line for the good of these Marines, and the SPARTAN that sat across from him.
With her check done, she gave him a few last words, ones that hung in his head notably.
Things happen because people make them happen.
Aint that the truth.

As she walked away he watched her for a moment, and then climbed into the seat, securing himself in as much as he could without the pods own automatic procedures. As his door closed he could hear Betty’s words, and it was able to tug a small chuckle out of him.
She was willing to die for these men, she risked it with them on every mission they did together, in that aspect they were basically SPARTANs. And yet, they still had that slight naivety, for lack of a better word, that the rest of the Corps had. It was something Gideon wished he understood the feeling of.
But he didn’t have the time too, as he heard the three beeps of the countdown.
3.
2.
1.
Swoosh.
Unflinching, the SPARTAN watched as the pods all unlatched and were jettisoned out of the shuttle, in a great bunch of massive cases of steel, hailing down from the sky and slowly spreading apart.
Gideon looked around out the front window, keeping an eye on the pods around him and the Lieutenants to ensure none were sent too far from the overall drop zone. They would be a minor separation, but hopefully nothing worse.
He heard the stories of the ODST missions gone wrong. Hell, he watched one take place once.
As the time passed, the pod continued to fall, and he had to make a minor movement North as his pod began to sway too far Southwards. Not exactly the smoothest controls.

Damned drop pods, Gideon thought, as the confined metal box began to heat up as it dropped, not a long drop this time, but still an annoying concept. So many buttons and nobs.
Gideon was among the members of ONI who were avidly in approval of a more advanced set of MJOLNIR armour, which would allow SPARTANs to push through atmospheres without issue, as well as allowing more advanced landing and handling. Basically, a SPARTAN could just jump out of the sky, and that was something Gideon loved the sound of.

The SPARTAN clicked a few of the buttons in his pod, and was able to make a connection with the Commander, switching the display of Sierra-120 for that of the Commander, and shutting down the one that displayed the Lieutenant. “I’ll contact you to deploy the packages when I land.” The Commander nodded, and the screen changed back quickly, as both displays popped back into action.
That was how it worked, communicating with an ONI official you worked for. They didn’t like talking unless you were some high ranking Navy official or right up against them in the room, your massive suit of armour dwarfing them, no matter how large they themselves are.

Gideon looked at the two displays for a moment, seeing the other SPARTAN in the one on the left, generally as quiet as he was, whilst on the right was Betty.
Screams of terror, he had experienced in these operations. Screams of pain, he heard those too. Screams of joy? That was a new one. He couldn’t help but smile.

Matt listened to the vieled rebuke from Lt. Black, and watched as she passed by his pod to give an ironic salute. He then remarked "I'll keep that in mind, Lieutenant. See you on the other side as well." He then saluted her back, keeping an eye on his HUD. Matt then thought I still think this is a crazy idea.... Then again, most good ideas have been the crazy ones, haven't they.

Matt continually watched as the countdown continued and he said to Diana, "A little too late to back out of this, isn't it?" Diana, with characteristic sarcasm said, "You think, genius? Would you like me to state the definition of the word 'chicken' while I'm at it?" Matt laughed nervously as the countdown nearly reached zero. Matt then checked his suit's seals once more as the timer dwindled to nearly zero. Matt checked the countdown timer and heard the tell-tale beeping:
3...
2...
1...
0.
Matt then felt the pod drop, his stomach heading in the opposing direction. He heard Lt. Black's joyful scream as they headed towards the planet below, adding to Matt's near nausea as the pods screamed down like meteors. Matt said to himself "I'm absolutely crazy for accepting this job." Diana quipped "Some truths are self evident, cowboy." Matt mock laughed "Har, har, har." Matt thought annoyingly If she wasn't an A.I., I'd slap her silly. He then adjusted his pod as it started to descend, rattling like a thing possesed.Matt just settled in for the ride, and asked Diana "If I do pass out, you got pod control, yes?" Diana stated "Got ya, Matt. Good luck." She then signed off, leaving him to the silence of the suit.

As the pod dropped, Matt took several deep breaths to steady his nerves, using the classic sniper's trick of staying sane and focusing on the task ahead. As he looked out the front window, he saw the facility in the distance with the ground rushing up to meet him. He then looked to the other pods and said to Diana, "Adjust pod trajectory on my mark...MARK!" The pod shook again as Diana adjusted the pod's trajectory. Matt grinned and thought One of the main benefits of having an A.I.: the ease at which I can do complex tasks.... He then waited two more stomach churning seconds before he popped the drag chute and fired the pod's retro rockets.

Matt then got on the comm with Command and said "Sierra-120, reporting in. All clear phrase will be 'The Trojan gate is opened.' How copy?" Command answered with a typically blunt "Copy that, 120. Command acknowledges upcoming go phrase. Command out." Matt then got on the strike team's frequency and repeated his statement, then abruptly cut comms before the pod began to head towards the ground to meet it.

Matt had one last thought before the pod hit the ground:One complaint I have for the pod makers: Add padded seats... Then the pod hit the ground with a resoundingly hard WHUUUMP, and a bit of cursing issued from Matt as his helmeted head smacked against the pod's viewport.

Betty was very aware of her own pod's read outs, but additionally she kept a frequent vigil on the status of the rest of her team. They all hit atmo at about the same time and Betty watched as the ceramic skin of her pod burned away. The Lead Foil was still there to replace the ceramic skin and to keep the armor from ripping away. However, as the ceramic skin burnt away the air inside the pod became unbelievably hot. Betty always found it a wee bit frightening as the pod's interior temperature read out increased exponentially. That had been partly what the ODST armour had been designed for though; for atmospheric reentry and to keep the jumpers from frying to death.

After her SOEIV finally penetrated the atmosphere it took almost no time at all before she hit 3,000 feet and the upper exterior panels of her pod separated, acting as a drag-chute. This slowed her descent some and helped keep her pod on course with some minor control from her. The most terrifying part of a drop, however, was still to come. She says terrifying because, though the braking rockets on all SOEIVs are computer controlled and checked regularly, they have been known to fail on rare occasions. When or if that ever happens it leaves the pod’s occupant to die immediately on impact. It’s the death that every ODST fears, and is only referred to in hushed tones as 'digging your own grave.' For this very reason is why Betty so adamantly insists on checking every pod before drop. Just as hoped though, at about 50 meters Betty's pods brake rockets engaged, slowing her pod even further; this made for an abrupt but safe landing.

When the remainder of her team dropped down just as safely she breathed a sigh of relief. No casualties this run. That was always a good thing.

Betty pulled the latch that would jettison her pod's hatch. A rally point beacon appeared on her HUD and she already registered Shaman and the others making their way for it. Good. After stripping her pod of the few supplies she'd brought along, Betty jumped down and made her way to that same rally point-Alpha. Once there, she did a visual check of her team before calling for a status check.

"What's your status, Overlanders?" Betty ordered.

"No injuries were sustained upon landing, Lieutenant." Came Doc's reply.

"Five-by-five, L-T. Though, I'm jonesin' for a butt." Wild Man replied, voicing his desire for a cigarette, making Betty laugh. She could actually go for one of those herself right about now.

"Aren't we all, mate?" Gavin responded as he checked his rifle's magazine. They all knew which kind of 'butt' he was referring to and it wasn't the kind that you smoked. Well, not unless you were into that sort of thing. Betty turned her gaze to Gavin expectantly. "Right as rain, gingah-cakes. Just rarin' for some action as always." He responded with one of her least favorite pet names.

Shaman simply nodded in her direction and rested the barrel of his rifle against his shoulder. Betty nodded back in a similar fashion before turning to her two walking tanks. "I trust the drop wasn' too hard on you boys? I 'member my first time weren't easy, I tell ya what. Then again I didn' possess all them perticular biological upgrades ya'll got."

The SOEIVs hailed through the sky, their small black shapes barely comparing to the brightness of the stars. Even if someone looked up in their direction, they’d need to spend hours watching before they noticed the pods falling through the mesosphere.

Gideon could feel the heat within his pod building slowly, but he did little more than blink at the change in temperature as he fell faster and faster, barely surpassing a few of the other pods due to his own increased weight. The heat began to intensify, burning away at the SOEIV before he felt a lurch, and jolted around inside the pod briefly.
The drag chute had activated, releasing the top panels to create a safe method of slowing down the pod. He’d seen these kind of things work before, and he never liked them, they always seemed so unsafe; literal chunks of metal used to slow down an even bigger chunk of metal.

But he wasn’t ‘employed’ to figure out the mathematics of it, he was here to survive it. To get through it or ignore it, and just keep going with his mission, like always.
He looked around a little, as the white hot flames surrounded his pod, before the screen before him finally cleared, revealing the surface of the planet and the other burnt pods around him. They all seemed to be working well, at least the ones in his view, as their chutes pulled out to slow each of them down. They were getting close now, only about 1000 meters he expected.
Get ready for that crashing feeling.

And then, more flames. But this time, not from the entering of a spherical protection of the planet, but rather from the small rockets on the bottoms of each SOEIV, the backup to slow them down and ensure they do not shatter to the ground with the corpses of their crew battered and broken within.
It was something Gideon never really thought about, but something he new was a possibility. Not one for a Spartan, of course; he hadn’t died when he faced that Honor Guardsman on Tribute, he wasn’t gonna die in this falling storage container.
By the time his own lit up, he was only about 60 meters away from the ground, and somehow, nearly one hundred meters away, and while the rockets led to a nice abrupt landing, nature wasn’t as kind as to offer him that comfort.

Smashing into a large set of rocks on the surface, his pod practically bounced through the air, and due to the sheer force, it was sent flying across the spread of dirt and plants, skidding through the ground and finally stopping about a yard from Betty’s already emptied pod.
Gideon shook his head, sighing heavily as he flipped the latch to send his pods access flying out, a few meters away from them all, as he finally got a look over the landscape properly.
A nice blue landscape, with a brown sky and a soft blowing breeze across the floating grass.
“Great.” Gideon wasn’t one to use sarcasm. But this time, it just seemed fitting.

The great and deadly supersoldier, of which countless myths were told amongst the populace of humanity and of which numerous personal myths were told amongst other Spartans, fell forward, and with a heavy thud collided with the ground, grunting as he rose to his feet and looked at his own SOEIV.
Upside down. What kind of stupid level of bad luck was required for such a used and abused method of insertion to screw up badly enough to be painful and embarrassing but not badly enough to kill you?
Gideon looked at the interior and, after doing a bit of fiddling with the upside down controls, removed his suppressed 99C-S2 and his M7S submachine gun, along with two grenades, his suppressed M6F, and a small few extra supplies placed within the pod on order of his superiors.

It took a few minutes before he was certain he could move again. His shields had nearly shut down entirely, and his armour had become notably stiff due to a split second locking during the crash course. Not his best idea, but it may have saved his life. After suiting up with the weapons, and ensuring his rifle was properly tuned and functional, Gideon activated checked his HUD as a small rally point appeared.
Destination, set, go.

It took not long for the gigantic soldier to come in contact with the ODSTs, and of course Sierra-120. They were mostly all there it seemed, trying to set up a minor base.
As his feet stopped next to the second Spartan, the Lieutenant turned onto them, as if she’d been waiting. He smiled to himself with her question, and spoke softly.
“I guess you could say I’ve had better.”
He held his rifle close to his chest, eyeing the area around him as the trio spoke.

Matt shook his head slowly after his pod hit, trying to shake off the disorientation of hitting the ground at near terminal velocity. He then waited for a few seconds before the pod doors opened with a dull bang. Matt then checked his HUD, and true to her word, Diana had already set his motion tracker. He silently thanked her, grabbing his pistol and assault rifle as he waited for the other pods to hit the ground.

Well, Matt didn't have to wait long when the pods of the rest of the team hit the ground just seconds after his, the force of each impact rattling his teeth, with the exception 064's grinding to a halt not too far from Matt's pod. Matt supressed the urge to laugh as he heard 064 grumble a bit as he got out of his pod. Diana also tried, but failed, to stifle a small and girlish giggle.

Matt did a double check, just to make sure that all of his weapons that he would take into the base weren't compromised. Satisfied that nothing had gotten compromised in the impact he looked to see the ODSTs do a head count and get themselves settled. He then turned to see 064 close on their collective position, clearly feeling a bit like Matt did after the landing.

Matt then threaded silencers onto his pistol and assault rifle, knowing that even the integated silencer on the magnum wasn't enough on these kinds of critical operations. He then turned on his external comms, knowing that hewould probably have to communitcate. His hunch proved correct when the Lieutenant turned to 064 and Matt asking them how the drop went. He loaded the rifle and cranked the charging handle back.

Matt then looked at the Lieutenant and said, in almost characterisic modesty "I guess you could say I've had worse moments than this one." Diana chided sarcastically in his helmet "We both know that's a lie, cowboy." Matt just merely grinned underneath his helmet at Diana's comment.

Betty chuckled at Gideon's response, having witnessed, albeit from afar, his less than by-the-book landing. She lightly punched his arm again, an act she seemed to be fond of doing, "Aw, a bitty li'l' scrape like 'at ain't nothin' ta balk at, sugar. Trust me when I say there're far worse fates than a bumpy landin'." She knew because she was speaking from personal experience. She'd almost very well ended up living every Helljumper's worst fear some years back. Her pod suffered some as of yet undetermined malfunction as she was breaking atmo. Fried her comms, her draft-chute, rocket brakes everything.

Luckily for her though, through her own ingenuity, quick-thinking and knowledge of mechanics and such she'd managed to manually override her e-brakes at the last minute; trust her, hot-wiring a pod ain't as easy as it may sound. Even though, the crash had been devastating and she'd barely made it out alive; though the wounds she'd sustained from it would have finished the job had she not received prompt medical attention. She'd dropped leagues upon leagues off target right in the grasp of enemy hands. Thus far that week still rang true as one of her most traumatic experiences to date, but she was made of sterner stuff.

So yes, there were far worse fates than a rocky landing, if one will excuse the pun. "You're still alive." She looked him over, from head to toe. "An' still in one piece from what eyes can tell. Not to mention about to go rain some silent and covert hell upon a bunch of unsuspecting Innie bastards." She punched his arm, again. "Cheer up!"

"As for you." She turned to Matt. "Glad ta see your drop went as smooth as possible." She smirked behind her visor, which of course he didn't see. "Now tell that AI o' yours to stop makin' fun o' me and let's get this showboat on the road, a'right?" She didn't really know or even think Matt's AI would bother to go to the trouble of making fun of her, it just sounded like a humourous, smartass thing to say. With her knowledge of most smart-AI's behaviors though, she wouldn't put it past the little voice in Matt's head to be a sarcastic know-it-all.

Betty indicated for her team to huddle around her. She pressed a few buttons on her tacpad and a holo-display screen erupted from it. From the screen she went over their infiltration plan once more for clarity and safety's sake. "Alright, Shaman, I want you to stay and set up shop here." She indicated a somewhat covered area near the entrance to the service tunnel. Looked to Betty it could serve as a sort of blind spot from any patrol.

Betty turned to Shaman and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Ya know it's nothin personal, Freddy, we just need to keep up our stealth advantage as long's we can. If thing's go south and we need to call in the big muscle to save our asses, I know where you'll be."

"Doc, I want you to stay with Shaman." Doc nodded in understanding, not offended at all that Betty wanted him to stay behind. Doc knew that Betty knew he could handle himself in a fight, however, he also had intimate knowledge of the dangers they got into on an almost daily basis. There were countless time that his field medicine had saved their lives at a crucial moment. Betty wanted to keep him out of the line of fire as long as possible.

"Pretty Boy, Wild Man an' I'll enter through here," She indicated the service tunnel pointed out to her in her briefing. "Jus' like Odin planned. From that point on we will be observing strict radio silence, am I understood?" Her sniper and her demo-man nodded, followed by Shaman and Doc. "We get in, we get ONI's intel, we get out... I don' expec' there'll be much action ta be had this time round."

"Yeah well, no offense but what you expect and what takes place ain't usually that similah, L-T." Wild Man said, and the rest of her team was inclined to agree.

Betty chuckled. "I'm the cock-eyed pessimist, remember? I hope for the best but always prepare for the worst."

Wild Man chortled. "Heh, you said cawck." Both Betty's and Gavin's hands slapped Bill upside the head in response. Betty sat a moment shaking her head at him. That was Bill for ya, though; 26 going on 16.

"Ever'one know what they're doin'?" There was a slew of "Yes, ma'am"s, "Roger that!"s and "Oo-rah!"s all around.

Betty was in deep thought as she looked over the plan on her tac pad a moment longer.

She was grateful for the additional intel Gideon had given her, but there was still that niggling doubt and fear in the back of her mind and in her gut that told her something was wrong. Something big. She had a bad feeling about this whole thing. She'd learned long ago to trust her gut, but she still had a job to do. That was partly why she was making Shaman and Doc stay behind; to serve as a sort of last resort if things went south like she feared. If nothing else, they could get the hell outta there and contact the Illustrious for back up, or an emergency evac.


Betty turned to Matt and Gideon, again. "What about you two? Everything still green on your ends?"

What she was mostly concerned about was if Matt would have their backs, so to speak. According to their plan he was taking out the tower which would be a mighty point of surveillance and reconnaissance for them. But he still seemed somewhat on edge about this whole thing and she wondered if he had his own vendetta under that helmet just like Gideon did. She was trusting these two... She just wondered if that trust was gonna turn around and bite her in the ass...

She punched his arm.
Again.
He buckled under it despite the fact he barely felt a thing.
Again.

Betty wasn’t like other humans Gideon had met. Most humans were dumb, pathetic, and overall not worth his time. He was inclined to save them, because he knew that no good human came out of nothing, it required a long line of bad ones, but Betty… She seemed to be one of the few good ones he’d ever met. She had a sense of family, dignity, respect.
And power. She seized power and used it. That was admirable.

Her words, ‘worse fates’, hit Gideon on the head a little. He understood what she was talking about, going from being a falling demon to a shooting star, but the words took him a little deeper.
Worse fates.
What had he done to these poor soldiers? Not a single one of them really knew what was going on, none of the Troopers with their typical resourcefulness, not the Lieutenant even with those extra files, and not S-120 with his little AI buzzing around. This was ONI, top secret. And top priority. As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Gideon didn’t expect every Trooper to come back alive.

He couldn’t deny, as much of an emotionless machine he was, the idea of blowing open some skulls was something he quite liked the sound of. These guys weren’t anything special, really; typical Innie soldiers, perhaps a few heavier weapons than most, but not too much.
There was only a few things that would really standout, and that was a situational thing. But if they did pop up, then there would be no two ways about it; orbital bombardment, maybe something extra, was gonna be needed. And if that was the case, no one would be leaving this op alive.
For some reason, that really perked him up.

After she gave S-120 a little ranking too, as well as his AI, Betty huddled the team together for a final rundown of the scenario, along with a few very minor changes. The big man, Shaman, and the medic, Doc, would be stationed outside of the tunnel to keep themselves out of harms way. Could be a good thing, if the metaphorical shit hits the metaphorical fan.
Gideon took a personal note to talk to Shaman before everything went underway. He wanted to scope this guy out a little if they’d be working so close together. Anything more than two-hundred feet and Gideon was on edge.

The minor refresh moved on as they always did, and the team of ODSTs all acknowledged every command they were given. Gideon had never really worked on a single operation with ODSTs. He’d been stationed alongside some and seen them in combat, but never like this. They had a certain level of je ne sais quois that made them stand out so much more compared to the Marines and Army soldiers he’d met during the war.
And comparing them to the Officers on the warships was laughable.

Near the end of the talk, the squad was split in half nearly; Shaman and Doc would cover the rear of the tunnel area whilst the rest infiltrated and dealt with the data. Gideon would need to keep a close eye on them, they were the biggest targets on the field because of that.
As they continued to talk, Wild Man making a joke or two, Gideon couldn’t tell, he noted the family level again in this squad. It reminded Gideon of old days… Very, very old days.
He took a step back and zoned out slightly, trying to clear his head. He was never used to squad missions, because stuff like this happened.
God dammit… Innie sons of bitches.

Before he could really, properly think though, Betty was back to talking to him and S-120, in reference to their positions on the combat.
“Yes ma’am. I’ll make sure to keep overwatch on Shaman and Doc while your down there.” He took a glimpse at the massive ODST again, huffing.
“Though I doubt they’ll need it.”

He needed to talk to Shaman, S-120, and the Commander, specifically in that order. A rundown on his skills would be appreciated, a rundown on that damned AI would clear be appreciated, and Stage Delta of the operation would be very much appreciated from the Commander.
Guess each one would need to wait, for now.

~~

The Commander rubbed the muzzle of his pistol down with a cloth, sighing heavily. Another bullet, wasted, because someone had to keep asking questions.
“Petty Officer, please remove this man. Take him to the medical bay, they’ll ‘patch him up’.” The guard at the door nods, his first movement all day, as he grabs the corpse, flings it over his shoulder, and covers the hole in the mans head with a rag. Another corpse, another soldier for Commander Donello Mattews.

“HRUNTING/YGGDRASIL… Jesus. If this is operational down there, we wont get a second chance. I hope we picked the right team.”
The ships AI pops up on the desk, it’s form terrifying and blood curdling, and its voice deep and rapturous. “Every single possibility has been tested for. That’s why we picked this squad and this Spartan. They can get the job done with a 76.999% success rate, nearly 30% more than any other team we compiled.”
The Commander nodded, his fears not quelled in the slightest. “Gideon will get it done. He knows the cost of this mission.”

Matt chuckled slightly, knowing that Diana would be irate with that comment by the Lieutenant; and seconds later, proved him right...Diana chirped irately in his head "That cheeky, no-good, back-talking, little bitch..." Matt let the rant go on for a few seconds before he realized that the whining was about to get out of his control and bluntly said "Drop it, Diana"

He felt a tickle of feed back as Diana tried to muster a rebuttal but Matt interjected by saying "I said ENOUGH." Diana went silent, from anger, shame or a bit of both.

But Matt knew her reaction was a lot like the reaction he has gotten from multiple NavSpecWar personnel...
and mainline Navy officers

Matt sighed, more from exhaustion than exasperation, but he now started to feel those emotions to their fullest after his spat with Diana. The lieutenat had a point: Diana acted like a prima donna on occasions, and he knew that succuss on this operation meant that he would have to reel in her attitude. Matt thought...
At times like this, I really miss my old A.I...

Matt shook himself out his wistfull mood and willed himself to focus on the operation at hand. Specuation made for fine mental excersize, but knew that he had to focus on the operation first. He looked at the lieutenant and her squad with a bit of interest, the exchange reminding of his times with both Gold Team and GHOST team. He let his emotions lapse, allowing himself a brief moment of both pride and envy.

He heard the lieutenant ask him a question, bring him out of his momentary nostalgia. He shook himself a bit, he then remarked "Don't worry about my A.I., I'll be sure to reel in her personality. As for watching your back, I'll make sure nothing happens." As he finished, he looked toward the wild card Gideon. Matt knew that Gideon would be asking Matt some very important questions.

Yeah...VERY importantant questions...

Betty glanced at Shaman, then back at Gideon. "Shaman an' Doc can take care o' themselves, darlin'. Ya ain't gotta babysit..." She paused before turning to him again with hand on hip and skepticism in her voice. "Less'n there's some reason you think you need to keep an eye on them?" Betty pried, trying to weasel some of that secret information out of him, but she doubted he'd be spilling anytime soon. She could probably be stark naked as a jay bird with a pair of cuffs in one hand and a can of whipped cream in the other and he'd probably still be able to remain stoic and serious under pressure. Man was like some multi-level security vault... Weren't nothin' gonna crack him any time soon without great personal expense... Damn...


With their plan laid out before them they made their last minute preparations, checked their ammo and necessary supplies before they moved out; single file, keeping low to the ground and using overgrown foliage as cover wherever possible. The team moved cautiously and without sound; their movements fluid and seamless as if choreographed beforehand. One would move to surveil the next area and signal for the others the all clear to advance. Betty had her sidearm out for the time being, as Vera would make way too much noise at this juncture. When the alarm sounded and their element of surprise was blown, then she'd let the old girl go to town, not before.


Shortly, they made it to a large rock formation just outside the facility, the final march to their infil-point was a 100 yard stretch without cover of any kind. Betty peered from behind the rock where she noticed a 2-man patrol walking across the wall. She wated until they passed before she signaled Wild Man to go. Without a second thought, Bill took off towards the service tunnel and managed to duck and cover just as the wall patrol turned back around.

Betty pressed herself back behind the rock and nodded to the other three indicating that he'd made it safe. She peered back around again, waiting for the guards back to be to them before she signaled Gavin to go. Taking his cue, Gavin sprinted out in the same fashion as Bill had done, running like a fire was licking at his heels.

Betty watched with baited breath and almost cried out in alarm when Gavin's foot snagged in a rut and he went down fast and hard.

From his hide spot near the tunnel entrance, Bill was metaphorically pulling his hair out and mentally chanting to himself. C'mon, Gav. Get up. Get up. Get up! As much as the two jaw-jacked each other, they really did care about one another as brothers. The last thing Bill wanted was to see any of them get hurt or worse. Gavin was back up in nano-seconds but he was limping heavily.

Betty almost ran to him, but Shaman's hand on her arm stopped her just as a bright search light beamed down near their position. Gavin hit the dirt, and due to years of honed training as a sniper to have the ability to be immovable and hidden for hours if not days at a time, he managed to stay perfectly still as a statue. The spotlight beamed down over the entire area and Betty's breath hitched in her throat when she saw beams of the light cascade over the rock formation they were hiding behind.

It was a very intense few moments where Betty's heart was hammering in her chest, threatening to erupt from her rib cage. Her throat constricted and her grip on her sidearm tightened as she waited for the moment the alarm would sound and the fighting would start... But all she did was wait... and wait... Until the search light shut off and the guard on the wall moved on. Betty let out her breath in relief.... They hadn't seen him... They were still safe and maintained their element of surprise.


Gavin peered back over his shoulder and waited for Betty's signal before he got up and limped on towards Wild Man who had met him halfway to help him run back to their hidey hole. When they were both safe Betty pressed herself back to the rock wall and took several breaths in and out, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart.

Shaman placed his hand on her shoulder and she opened her eyes to see his visor staring back at her. She could just imagine his face behind his helmet was reflecting equal parts concern and relief. Betty placed her own hand on his reciprocating shoulder and patted it twice, indicating she was alright.

Did she mention she had a really bad feeling about this Op? Yeah well that feeling was magnified by about a hundred at this point... She couldn't shake the feeling that they weren't gonna be walking away from this one unscathed and whole... That fear gripped at her heart, but she managed to bite onto it and turn it into something stronger; determination and perseverance. None of her boys were dying today... Not if she had anything to say about it... But then that only leaves you as the remaining option, Elizabeth... That annoying voice resounded in the back of her subconscious, but she gagged it quick and locked it in a closet. Betty and Shaman each respectively placed a closed fist over their hearts before hitting their gauntlets together. Sort of like their traditional good bye ritual whenever they knew they were walking into possible death.

Get in, get the intel, get out... That's the plan... Stick to the plan...

Betty moved away from them, looking out from behind the rock as if she were just waiting for her chance to run. In the meantime, however, she opened a private comm to Gideon yet again. "I know we don't know each other all that well and you don't owe me anything." She sighed. "But I need you to do me a favor..."





After she'd spoken her peace with Gideon, she was slightly less apprehensive about the whole thing. She had faith and trust enough to know that her team would be taken care of should the worst happen. With new resolve, Betty steeled herself as she peered out from the rock once more. She waited patiently for the guard to make his wall pass. Then, when the moment came, she didn't hesitate as she bolted from behind the rock; sprinting towards the tunnel entrance and her two waiting brothers.

When she almost literally slid into home, Gavin was there to catch her. Betty looked sternly at him until he shook his head and held up his hand in the universal signal for 'OK'. She stared at him a little longer until she seemed satisfied that he was telling the truth. She patted his shoulder then looked towards Bill who had already been busying himself with the second phase of their plan. Phase One was the 100 meter dash. Phase Two was a little trickier; getting through a 4 inch metal door that only opened from the inside.

Bill was almost done applying the sticky explosive around the edge of the door; it was a clear sticky liquid that had a copper wire running through the center of it. Once activated, the reaction between the wire and the liquid would eat through the metal like acid. There would be no sound, no explosions. Just one little switch and the way would be open to them. The sticky had been Bill's idea and Betty couldn't have been more proud if she were his mama.

Betty placed two magnetized handles on the door before Bill pressed the trigger that would start the reaction. There was a slight hissing noise to start but it wasn't even above a whisper and it only lasted a few seconds before the metal started melting away in the line wherever the liquid had touched. Betty caught the door when it fell away and with Bill's help, they slowly and soundlessly lowered it to the floor on the inside of the tunnel.

Phase Two, completed... It would literally have to be naught but silence from there on out. Betty turned to her guys and placed one hand on each of their shoulders, giving them a similar exchange as the one she'd given Shaman. She then turned back around and crawled into the dark.

In retrospect, he probably should’ve expected something like that. He did expect he’d need to keep an eye on these two, and even Sierra-120, but he wasn’t gonna tell any of them why, not yet. If he could keep the true purpose of this mission quiet longer, the better. But, he knew what to do in this kind of situation.
He stood still, looking at Betty, and didn’t make a sound. No expression of emotion or reaction. He had to admit, if not for his visor, she’d be able to see right through him right now.

Slowly, after some preparation, the ODST squad made their way out to their own registered destination. He watched the file of marines make their way, and sighed silently. He looked at Sierra-120, and wondered whether now would be a good time to ask him about this mission and his thoughts and…
No, not now. Everyone was moving. He’d do it over comm later. He looked at the Spartan, and decided to simply speak.
“I hope you’re ready, Matt. A lot of this mission will rely on you.”
He walked past the Spartan and patted his shoulder once, his hand resting there for a second before he kept moving, making his way towards his own stationary point. He stopped at the rounding area, looking back at the Spartan and feeling strangely uneasy. Not many people could make him feel like this.

Gideon decided it was time. He turned and finally broke into a spring, running a far way from the drop zone and heading up the rocky hillside. The ground beneath his feet was barren for the most part, a few small bushes scattered around the grit that coated the surface.
The land down near the momentary recon site they had used and the drop zone was quite green and grassy, which almost made the transition harsh to the eye.
Gideon began to slow his steps as he went further up, a few dead trees scattered around the edge of the canyon, their use minimal in this dusk evening light. He lowered down into a crouch as he neared the verge of the mountainside, as the view of the base came into view.

It was quite an impressive facility, as to be expected of an ONI Research Facility hidden this far out in a mostly uninhabited planet. This was something they needed to keep secret, yet something that, like all high security ONI stuff, had to be one of the most expensive structures ever built by the UNSC. Whenever ONI got that orbital image, it must’ve been quite a while ago now, because far too much had changed.
The face of the facility was just as it had been on the holographic shot; a five sided polygonal shape for the main body, reminiscent of a half of an octagon with the largest side hidden in the cliff face. Above it, a thick stone wall disappeared into the overhanging rocks, with the intimidating red fist of the Insurrectionists painted onto it.
On either side of the base foundations, two large sniper towers hung menacingly, with individual guards in either one. On the far right tower just slightly to the left sat the service tunnel that the ODSTs would need to infiltrate. Beyond these traits, the base had been clearly updated.

On the surface above the bases, imbedded into the stone ground, were two large watchtowers fitted with LAU-65D Missile Pods. Beside each of the towers was a large, and very old, pair of anti-air automated base turrets. Those weren’t fitted on research bases, those would have been added on by the Innies after they overthrew the base. It was clear these particular rebels didn’t underestimate their enemies.
Or just didn’t know the war was over.
In either case, Gideon knew it was now time to scope out the guards. He could see a few dotted around, small patrols of two to three men, but he needed to look for marksmen and officers, and figure out the particular patrol routes.
Then, he’d make sure he made the first kill, and began the first phase of his own mission.

Lifting his rifle up to the edge of the cliff and flicking down the stand onto the very tip of the stone, he aligned the rifles scope and activated night vision, and began to peer into the bright eyes of his foes.
First was the bright reflection of the sniper scope in the far left-hand tower. They were doing exactly what he was doing, scanning the area for any sight of life on the borders. It was a good thing his own scope was fitted with non-reflective glass, or he’d have a bullet between his eyes right now.
He panned down the tower and towards the ground, where a trio of soldiers guarding the borders, their patrol route a simple line from the tower to about ten yards out of the perimeter. These were clearly the more well equipped soldiers, with two of them wielding BR55 rifles while the central soldier possessed an M395 DMR. They were each mostly equipped for long range combat, against invading forces obviously, but the large purple Humblers on their waists more than made up for the close quarters.

Panning across the canyon, Gideon was able to pick up on five other patrol teams, each armed similarly, with the occasional MA5C assault rifle dotted around the two patrols dedicated to guarding the central entrance to the base. Those teams were composed of only two soldiers each, but their battle gear was much more reinforced, with scraps of ODST battle armour clearly scavenged to give them greater protection. With twenty men simply guarding the entrance to the base, and two others stationed in the watchtowers, Gideon could only imagine how important this was for the Innies as well as ONI.
Whatever lay beyond those doors must’ve been truly dangerous. He could only hope the ODSTs would be able to handle themselves.

Suddenly, near the service tunnel, a bright light loomed over the ground. Turning his rifle fast, Gideon looked down into the lights view at a 10x zoom, turning off his night vision due to the bright light. While the person manning the spotlight didn’t notice it, Gideon sure did; the outline of a soldier, specifically, and ODST.
Not the best start to an operation.

After the light moved on, he reactivated his night vision and watched the soldier stand up and spring to the tunnel. After a few moments of waiting, Gideon was suddenly interrupted by an immediate comm link. With the Lieutenant.



The talk was not brisk, it was quite enduring actually. But he understood the reason she needed that contact. He hoped he had fulfilled her queries as the comm shut off, fearing for nothing more than what might happen to that team of unaware Helljumpers. Gideon kept watching the gap, waiting to see the Lieutenant bridge it and begin the infiltration.
But there was no one. And he could see why; the guard that had recently shone the spotlight down on the sprint was still there, waiting for another sighting. He knew there was someone there.
“Jeez, what a waste.” Gideon muttered too himself, as he slowly and surely lined the circular reticule up with the back of the guards skull. “Lets hope this suppressor works.”
The faint sound of what could be described as kitten landing on a pillow echoed from the end of his rifle. It had taken nearly two hundred years, but a suppressor was finally able to do what it was meant to do; supress the sound. He’d had to use an extremely old gun from the 22nd century on a mission long ago, and it had been the last time he’d used a suppressor.
It changed the sound from a rifle to a very soft shotgun. Not as useful as he’d expected. Not like this.

Through the sight and in bright green, Gideon watched the bullet penetrate the cranium of the soldiers helmet and skull, puncturing his flesh and brain. The bullet stopped, due to its lightweight, and the soldier fell to his side with a muffled thud. It was a good thing Innies didn’t all carry big suits of body armour like UNSC Marines and ODSTs.
“I hope she damn well appreciates that.”
Gideon turned back to face the watchtowers, and out of the corner of his eye something moved for a second and disappeared. Good luck, ODSTs.

((OOC: Taken some minor liberties here, I'm not sure what suppressors sound like in the Halo universe so I've mad an assumption. If someone has any form of confirmation, I'll edit my post to accustom the canon))

Matt felt Gideon's heavy pat on the shoulder and then heard Gideon's simple statment. He knew knew that from the get go, even after the briefing, that a lot of the mission was riding on Matt being on his A-game today. 
Yeah...no pressure...

He then noticed as Gideon turned around to look back at him once again, his gestures conveying a lot of the spartan's feelings about Matt. Under his helmet, Matt's eyes glared at Gideon.
Damn right you should feel uneasy about me, you ONI lapdog...

Shaking off his feeling of resentment, he then headed towards the base and his insertion point in a fast sprint along the wall, looking up above to check for any eyes that might be trained on him. As Matt neared his insertion point, he slowed down and crouched, knowing that even the slightest sound would be absolutely suspicious. Matt then brought up the topographical map of the base, and gave a low whistle of amazement at the extent of the Innie modifications. 
My, my...you bad boys have been VERY busy, haven't you?

Diana brought him out of his musings "Matt, the insertion point is 5 meters in front of you. But there is a problem." Matt sighed "Is the door electronically locked?" Diana said "It seems that would be the case." Matt walked up and tapped the door, confirming both their suspicions. Matt affixed one of his EMP detonators to the door and booked it, knowing that the detonator had a decent sized blast radius. Matt counted down silently and pressed the button, hearing only a popping sound as the detonator went off. He went back and tested the door, opened it manually, and shut the door behind him. 

He then flipped off the saftey of his suppressed pistol, and proceeded towards his objective, waiting for the unwary. He didn't have to wait for long, seeing an Innie patrolman doing his rounds. Matt slipped the pistol back in its holster, and melted into the shadows and waited for the man to near his position. The Innie walked towards Matt, humming a tune that he had heard many a time in the field.
That's right, little man, come to papa...

Matt unsheathed his knife and saw the patrolman nearly at Matt's position. When the patrolman was right next to Matt, he sprung at the man, covering the Innie's mouth as he stabbed the man in the chest, waiting for the Innie to fall limp in Matt's arms. Matt then dragged his prey away from any prying eyes and dumped the man's body out the door, and proceeded further into the base. Matt merely grinned as he moved along.
They have no idea of the wolf they let in the door...

As Matt continued into the base, he took note that the place he was about to infiltrate in the base was substantially patrolled and was gaurded by a decent amount of troopers. Matt stuck to the shadows moving out only at the most opporotune moments. Matt had only one thought on his mind now:
Don't get caught...

~~~~~~~~~~

Matt then looked at his mission clock and chided himself. He needed to pick up the pace, or else the element of suprise was lost. He melted back into the shadows once again as an Innie foot patroll of three troopers passed him by, and brought up his silenced pistol. With practiced lethality and speed, he took out two with his pistol, and snapped the neck of the third, cutting the man's spinal cord for good measure. He dragged the three bodies into the shadows, and dumped them near the wall outside. He said to himself "Damn amatuers," and moved on towards the objective.

Matt moved once again, satisfied that the bodies were well hidden from any passer-by. Matt moved, ambushed, and dispatched any enemy that came his way as he made it towards his objective. As he got closer, his moves became more measured as he crept up to the room, the Innies still unaware that they had been infiltrated by UNSC special forces. He now kept his movements slow and quiet, so as not to attract any unwanted attention.

A few seconds passed and he looked towards the objective, watching as the two men guarding the door handed off resposibilty to another pair, their shift apparently starting. Matt's panic meter went up and the two who were heading off for the night headed in his direction. As he planted himself on the wall, he felt the sweat run down his face in panic as he let the two men pass in front of him, he looked towards the target. What he saw dropped his panic meter a few notches: the two guarding the door had nodded off, giving him an opportunity to take down the others.

Matt ran in a crouch down the hall as the two off duty guards made ther way down the hall. Matt looked back at the door and--satisfied the guards were soundly asleep-- crept up to the two off duty guards until he was pratically behind them. He then grabbed one guard and shot him through the chest, killing the man instantly. He then sprang at the other, pinning the man to the floor and stabbing the man in the chest, killing the other guard. He then dragged both of their bodies to a secure spot and looked at the two replacement, breathing a sigh of relief that they were still sound asleep.

Matt then moved back up the hall towards the objective, both of the men seemingly unaware that this was about to be the last nap of their lives. Matt creeped along slowly, keeping an eye on the guards as he moved ever closer to the objective. With Matt only a meter or two away, one of the guards woke up; Matt immediately plastered himself into the wall, watching as the just woken guard yawned, clearly quite tired. Matt took this opporotunity to sneek up even further, the guards still quite sleepy.

The other guard then woke up, but by then Matt was practically right next to them, both unaware that someone was behind them. Matt then crept up right behind them and tapped them on the shoulder. The guards looked back at Matt armored form, their eyes widening in fear. Matt put them out of their misery, bashing their skulls together, and then snapping each of their necks to make sure they were dead.

Diana quipped, "They rolled out the carpet for us. Auful rude of us not acept that invitation, Matt." Matt checked the door, "Apparently they still have the damn keys. The door is still locked." He then looked at the lock, "Old style keycard lock. Innies must've installed it after my team's op here." Matt took an EMP detonator from his belt and placed it near the lock, getting as far away from the door as possible and detonated the charge; frying the lock, and anything electronic along with it.

~~~~~~~~~~

Matt then commented to Diana "Now they rolled out the red carpet." Pulling out a flashbang, Matt ran up to the door and pulled the door open, throwing in the flashbang and pulling out his pistol. The flashbang went off and Matt dashed in, firing three quick headshots, incapacitating the crew. Matt dusted off his armor, and looked st the dead Innies laying on the floor. Diana asked "Think you could have been a little more subtle there, Matt?" Matt just grinned and said, "It was subtle, to an extent." Diana sighed but said "Can't argue with results, though. Give the word, cowboy." Matt nodded, looking at the dead in the room, and said "The Gates of Troy are open." Command immediately acknowledged saying "Copy that 120, we got your clear signal." Matt then went to the team frequency "Sierra-120 to all members...all clear, all clear. Move in. Sierra-120 out."

Matt then took off his helmet and ran his head through his hair. He then put on his comm earpiece, Diana humming in his ear, saying "Well Matt, looks like we might be kicking hornet's nest soon." Matt looked at the displays, "I do believe you maybe right on the money, Diana." He then forced himself to focus, he needed to be ready to prevent the worst from happening.