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Halo, Operation: Vanguard by Sean Mortensen
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Operation: Vanguard
Date: 17 April 2007, 4:50 am
PROLOGUE:
1245 Hours, August 4, 2545 (Military Calendar)
Planet Scorpio Four, Zeta II Reticuli System
"Head's up!" the man shouted, just as a plasma mortar struck the ground where the squad's overturned Warthog laid, scattering the now molten metal and plastic in all directions.
Scott, SPARTAN-134, leapt up out of the way, and brushed some dirt off of his MJOLNIR armor, as another energy bomb struck the ground a few meters away. He consulted his heads-up display, just as a massive transport screamed overhead, it's engines temporarily drowning out the noises of combat beyond.
The display lit up a topographical map of the surrounding area, as a sector of the invaded city beyond lit up in red.
He mentally recalled his orders: their mission was to infiltrate the city from the storm drains, and eliminate the Covenant threat, without many civilian casualties. But, in case of an unavoidable emergency, he was authorized by Section-Three to detonate a HAVOK tactical nuke, to make sure the Covenant infestation spread no further.
And, Scott thought, is what I really want to do now.
He picked up a dropped MA5B assault rifle, and checked the breech, unloaded. He pulled out a fresh magazine, and slammed it into the receiver. He hefted the weight of the weapon, and slung it on his back as SPARTAN-003: Marcus ran over to him.
"Sir," Marcus said, nervousness creeping into his voice. "We've got a situation."
Suddenly, another plasma bomb struck the ground, causing the earth to tremor again, as Scott looked at his comrade, concerned.
"What is it?"
Marcus pointed to the far ridge, where a long black scar marked where a line of trees once stood.
"There, over the north ridge. Step up magnification to sector three-point-five and you'll see them."
Scott did as Marcus told him, and his faceplate automatically zoomed into the northern region, which was littered with bodies.
But, they weren't human bodies, or Covenant, and Scott was just beginning to realize the severity of their situation when another Spartan approached him, this one with scars racing in all directions on her chest armor.
SPARTAN-126, Katie, snapped off a quick sit-rep.
"Sir, second squadron was cut off," she said.
Then she tossed him a lump of black stone, still smoldering. "And this is all that's left."
It wasn't stone, it was the remainders of a Spartan's helmet, with the carbonized skull still lodged inside.
Scott closed his eyes, and grimaced. For a fallen comrade, and for the souls of those who will die, for doing this to him, and for the revenge he and his squadron was going to get on these bastards.
"How did he die," he asked her, knowing the question was as dry as the lump of metal, plastic and bone in his hands. Katie looked at him, and then a small portion of his screen illuminated, as this fallen warrior's point-of-view appeared.
At first, it was only marred static, then it broke into sunlight, as the man's camera recorded him approaching a tall structure, made of some kind of stone/metal hybrid.
The perspective jostled as the squadron med their way into a dark room, with high stone walls, and only the beam of illumination from the man's barrel-mounted flashlight lighting up the walls as he scanned the perfected symbols.
The walls were engraved with something in writing, but Scott didn't know what the writing said, as the man's perspective shifted to see three more of the Spartans following closely behind him. Then the man made a hand gesture, and as the squad dropped into a crouch, and began creeping forward, deeper into the complex.
Scott watched as the video showed the fallen squadron take an ancient lift down several levels below the complex, and into a enormous high-walled room.
The room, if that's what it was, had all the appearance of a cave, with little illumination coming from beams of light that lined the walls of the chamber. The Spartan made another hand gesture, and then the squadron spread out as the man's perspective showed him approaching the very center of the room, and towards a glowing control panel.
The man consulted the display when one of his comrades approached him, and shone his light on a mangled corpse in the far corner of the room.
"Whatever it was," the man who discovered the corpse said. "It isn't living anymore."
The leader grunted in response when a sudden trembling caused small chunks of stone to rain down on them. Then, the entire chamber collapsed and the screen snapped into blackness, only returning to show the leader being dragged by two Spartans down a narrow corridor, being chased by something.
The perspective shifted view as the leader's helmet rolled to one side, and Scott caught a glimpse of a badly mangled, rotting, leg. Then, the screen cut flared out in a bright flash, as screams of combat and horror were only heard, until there was nothing but a inhuman roar of fury.
Scott shook his head, and looked at the Spartans, his Spartans.
"We've got to find out what it was that killed them."
Katie was the first to shake her head. "Scott," she said. "We need to rescue the civilians, and eliminate the Covenant threat."
Marcus, however, looked at the disc-shaped device strapped to Scott's thigh:
The Havok nuclear mine.
Scott looked at Marcus and smiled. "What do you have in mind, Marcus?"
Marcus pointed to the device and clasped his hands together, his mind slowly formulating a devious plan.
"We split the rest of the squadron in two," he said. "We, take the nuke, plant it in the facility and blow whatever it was back to hell, just in time to help the others finish off the Covenant invasion forces."
Scott was amazed by this plan, and even more so was Katie when she spoke up.
"That's just crazy enough to work."
Scott looked at them, then nodded. "Then let's get to work."
Scott handed Marcus the explosive device and the arming cards as Katie went to go retrieve a Warthog for their mission.
Marcus smiled behind his faceplate, being given a tactical nuclear device was like Christmas coming early to him.
He always loved playing with explosives as a child, although that memory was only one of several few that seemed to stay with him through their 'transfiguration' into Spartans.
Scott watched as the Warthog rumbled to a stop and Katie climbed out of it. She tossed him a pair of M6Cs, and he clipped them on his thighs. He turned to look at them, and nodded to the vehicle.
"Let's go."
The Warthog peeled off, heading north to where the structure that claimed his comrades laid, and out into a valley, where a narrow river split the area in two.
Katie consulted her HUD and pointed to the far end of the valley.
"The structure's supposed to be over there."
Scott nodded and floored the accelerator, kicking up grass and mud in the twin wakes left behind the Warthog.
As they headed up a rise in the valley floor, the very tip of the structure appeared, before Scott stopped the LRV on the top of the hill.
What he saw, took his breath away.
The structure was a massive stone/metal temple, spires four-hundred meters tall jutting out from the sides and walkways and a enormous bridge spanning a gap in the structure, all made from the same material.
Scott climbed out of the Warthog, and stared up at the structure. He suddenly felt dwarfed by this construct, and if whoever built it was any consideration, he thought, they were a damn sight bigger than us.
Katie pulled out her assault rifle, and slung it over her shoulder as Scott reached behind his seat, and picked up his MA5B while Marcus hefted the small pack that carried the nuke, and spare ammunition.
Scott led the way into the interior of the structure, which still bore the black scorches of the grenades used by the squad of felled Spartans, and through a gargantuan atrium, lined with stone altars and angular outcroppings with engravings on them.
Marcus was in awe as Katie tapped him on the shoulder, and spoke to him in undertones.
"This must've been what Ackerson was looking for."
Scott looked at her, and made a short hand gesture, just as the ground started to rumble, making brown dust fall onto their armor.
"Is this what Ackerson was after," Scott demanded. If anybody wanted to try to eliminate the rest of the Spartans, Scott thought, Colonel James Ackerson was the man who surely would.
Katie nodded as she pointed to a device in the very center of the room. They approached it, and Scott saw that it was covered in red blood. He looked around, just as more blood dripped on the machine from somewhere up above.
Scott pointed his rifle up, sweeping his light from side-to-side, until he saw the most horrific thing imaginable: it was a Spartan, or what was left of one. It's armor impaled on one of several spikes lining the ceiling of the chamber.
Marcus looked at the corpse, and saw that the armor was crushed against the spike, and looked at Scott.
"It looks like the ceiling fell on him, and crushed the armor against his insides, killing him instantly."
Scott nodded, and looked at the impaled corpse as Marcus went on.
"But this armor's supposed to be impenetrable, right," he was beginning to sound worried. "We wear this stuff, because nothing is supposed to be able to completely obliterate the armor."
Scott shrugged and then he looked closer at the mechanical device. It was a cylindrical gear, with the protrusions lined up with grooves set in the floor, and a holographic control panel glowing in the air above the machine.
"So," Scott asked, pointing to the spiked ceiling. "Could this be the fail-safe for those, or for something else?"
Katie shrugged as Marcus shifted on his feet. Scott sighed and looked at the spikes for one last time, and then at Katie.
"Why would Ackerson be interested in something like this?"
After creeping through long, narrow corridors, and cavernous rooms that were empty, they finally reached a wide bridge that spanned a narrow gap from this side of an enormous shaft to the other.
This shaft, led straight down into the very center of the planet, where the titanium core was constructed as a source to generate energy.
They marched across the stone/metal bridge, and into the small room on the far side. This room, after being in the gigantic rooms before, seemed to come as a shock to them, as the floor began to lower itself, down several miles, into the very core of the planet.
As the lift stopped, Scott realized that it suddenly got warmer as his suit automatically adjusted to the abrupt rise in heat.
Marcus and Katie stepped off, following him as they headed through a narrow corridor, and out onto a ledge overlooking the entire inside of the core itself.
Scott looked around, and saw that there were thousands of ledges, all spanning around the entire inside, and at the very center, hovering on a purple light, was a structure that resembled a more sophisticated coliseum than the one at Rome.
It finally appeared to them, that they were in the spectator's stand, as the ledge they were on suddenly shifted, and deposited them in the very center of the coliseum.
Scott stood up, and grabbed the twin M6Cs from his thighs as Katie and Marcus snapped up their assault rifles to the ready, and they began to methodically sweep the entire area.
They looked around, as a loud roaring appeared out of thin air from above them, and then, as they turned to search in the direction from where the source of the sound came from, a hole appeared in the center of the arena, and a gray capsule emerged from that opening.
Scott looked at the capsule, which began to open like a banana peel, starting with the top, as lines appeared in the otherwise flawless surface, then, the sides dropped to the floor of the arena with a thud as Marcus looked at him, and then threw a fragmentation grenade into the capsule.
There was a flash of light, then a loud whump! as the grenade detonated. But something was stirring from within, as a odd squishy sound emerged.
Then, something emerged from the capsule, a creature very unlike the Covenant. It had the appearance of a jellyfish, but with the color of fungus, and the stinking odor of rotting flesh. This thing skittered towards Scott, who opened fire with his pistols, and tore the thing up with a couple of rounds.
But, suddenly a wave of those monstrosities emerged from the capsule, and began to swarm around them. Katie opened up with her MA5B, and sprayed the little things with 7.62mm armor-piercing ammo, as Marcus stepped on a couple of them, crushing them beneath his boots.
Scott looked around, trying to assess the situation, but found himself at a loss when Marcus looked at him, as Katie continued to open fire on those little creatures.
"Orders, sir?"
Scott pulled out a grenade, primed it and lobbed it into the midst of the creatures, when it detonated, and sprayed rippling chunks of those creatures in all directions. But more seemed to keep coming.
It seemed that as they killed twenty of those things, eighty more would come to take their place, and Scott was beginning to understand the motive behind why Ackerson wanted this excavated.
Scott looked at Marcus, and shouted over the noise of the skittering flaccid creatures and pointed at the pack.
"Use the nuke," he roared, and then looked at Katie, who nodded. "It's our only effective weapon!" Then he spun around and opened fire, as Marcus pulled out the device, and set it on the stone/metal floor, and began typing in the arming commands. Scott looked at him, and then Katie as the creatures kept on coming, then Marcus nodded and patted Scott on the shoulder. Scott nodded and held up his gauntleted hand, ready to activate the nuclear mine.
He reflected on why Colonel Ackerson wanted this place to be uncovered, but he knew that the man's actions would be washed away of. That man always had a way of getting out of a sticky situation. And now, he thought, the bastard will 'have no recollection' of this situation gone awry, and we will be dead. Gone.
Whispers in the wind.
Then he remembered John, Master Chief Petty Officer SPARTAN-117, and smiled as he relived the days of combat training, capture the flag, and Mendez, before looking at his comrades who stood by him, and nodded.
He closed his right hand into a fist, and pushed the small activation button in the gauntlet.
The Havok tactical nuclear mine emitted a bright white flash, and detonated, sending a chain reaction throughout the entire core of the planet. The shockwave rippling through the thousands of layers of rock and dirt, until another explosion from above ripped across the surface, rendering it uninhabitable.
Then, the gray clouds settled, leaving only a mirror image of what really happened here. There was no trace of any ancient structure, just a enormous crater, and no one would ever know.
Operation: Vanguard
Date: 21 April 2007, 1:48 am
SECTION 1: Ackerson
Chapter One
0430 Hours, September 12, 2520 (Military Calendar)
UNSC Destroyer Unity, twenty years earlier
Colonel James Ackerson stared out the main view port, and ran his weathered hand through his graying hair. Then, he straightened his slightly wrinkled uniform jacket, and made sure his collar was perfectly aligned with the jacket's. After fighting with the collar for a minute, he just left it alone.
He sighed, as the man standing beside him, Captain Francis Miller, pointed to the main holographic display, which showed their relative position, and the positions of several more vessels in the fleet.
"I don't understand Colonel," Miller said, as Ackerson turned towards him and scowled.
"Captain," Ackerson said. "You don't need to understand, because your job is to take orders and carry them out." He turned towards the captain and looked at him. If looks could kill…
"Do I make myself clear?"
Miller nodded, and turned to consult the display when a technician turned in his chair and looked at Ackerson.
"Sir," the tech said. "I've got something on the deep radar."
Ackerson stepped towards the console and looked at the readouts. The monitor displayed a jumble of graphs, bars and continually moving numbers, which Ackerson couldn't understand.
"What is it?" he asked, and the technician pointed to a continually warping bar.
"This sir," the tech answered. "Is a metallic radar signature."
Ackerson nodded, "I see."
"But," the tech went on. "That isn't what's curious."
The man pointed to the same bar and then turned to look at Ackerson.
"This also is giving off a solid stone signature. Carbon dating is inconclusive, but whatever it is, it is old."
Ackerson nodded, and Miller looked at him, waiting.
"How old?" Ackerson asked.
The technician looked at the monitor, and waited until a estimate appeared on the screen.
"The Unity's deep radar estimates that it is at least one-hundred thousand years old, maybe older."
Ackerson nodded and walked over to the captain, who was patiently waiting.
"Captain," he ordered. "Get one of the Pelicans prepped for departure, and have my squad meet me in the hangar in fifteen minutes."
Miller nodded and began issuing orders as the colonel turned around and walked out of the bridge.
Ackerson stepped out of the lift, and into the cavernous hangar where a team of mechanics were removing fuel lines from the nearest Pelican, a modified turret less Warthog dangling from it. He stopped in front of a squadron of ODSTs, who snapped to attention.
"Men," Ackerson said, addressing them. "We have a mission."
He pointed a stylus at a wall-mounted view screen, as the planet came into view.
"This is Scorpio Major," he went on. "The Unity's deep-radar uncovered this:"
The screen shifted to show a three-dimensional vector drawing of a towering structure.
"With the help of radar dating," he continued. "This structure is believed to be more that one-hundred thousand years old."
The squad looked at him as he turned to their leader, Marvin Mobuto.
"Staff Sergeant," he said. "Are you ready to carry out these orders?"
The sergeant snapped to attention, and saluted.
"Sir, yes sir!"
Ackerson nodded, and smiled as the Helljumpers picked up their gear and climbed into the troop bay of the waiting Pelican.
Ackerson climbed into the back of the Pelican, following behind the marines as Mobuto looked at him, and handed him a headset and a pair of combat boots.
"For you, sir!" the sergeant shouted over the roar of the transport's engines.
He took the headset and slipped it over his head, adjusting the boom mike just below his chin, then he took off his light-duty deck shoes, and pulled on the heavy boots.
The marines grabbed assault rifles, submachine guns, grenades and ammo for their weapons and secured them in-between their individual jump seats, as Ackerson grabbed a MA2B, and inserted a magazine into the receiver with a click.
He smiled as the others looked around, just as the pilot turned around and looked at him, shouting over the howling engines.
"Ready when you are, Colonel."
Ackerson gave the pilot a thumbs-up, and the pilot turned back around in his seat and the transport leapt upward on a shaft of blue-white light.
The Pelican rose off of the hangar's floor, it's thrusters in full overload, and headed towards the ceiling, as the massive blast doors above cycled open, revealing the infinite black of space and the multicolored hues of stars beyond, before disappearing out of the Unity's hangar, and into space.
Ackerson watched as the soldiers secured their combat helmets, sheathed close-combat knives, and began writing their blood type on a roll of tape, before attaching the strip of tape to the soles of their shoes. Then one of the soldiers handed him the tape and a black marker, smiling, before the man slipped on his polarized helmet.
Ackerson laughed and wrote his blood type on the tape and attached it to the sole of his boot, when Mobuto nodded towards the cockpit windows, as the enormous gas planet came into view, obscuring all the stars around it.
The moons orbiting the gas giant orbited the planet at very chaotic intervals, as one of the moons appeared on the pilot's eyepiece, showing a entire surface encased in swirling winds.
Ackerson nodded and pointed to the most distant moon, the surface obscured by the swirls of blue-white winds.
"That's the one? Are you sure?"
The pilot turned towards him and shrugged.
"Sir," the pilot said. "If you question my abilities, perhaps you should drive."
Ackerson shook his head, and then looked warningly at the pilot.
"Watch your tongue, private. I asked you a direct question."
The pilot nodded and gave a curt reply:
"That's the planet, sir: Gamma-04."
Ackerson smiled and turned to look at the Helljumpers.
"Gear up!"
The marines moved into action, grabbing their weapons, and checking to make sure that any loose items were either removed or secured in place.
Mobuto stood in the cockpit, watching the altitude indicator drop as Ackerson secured his backpack, and grabbed assault rifle, just as the winds outside the Pelican started to buffet the craft, making it lurch from side to side.
"We're in for a rough ride," the pilot announced, as the transport lurched to one side, before the pilots corrected their angle and brought the Pelican into a tight turn.
Ackerson stepped towards the cockpit window and looked outside, trying to see the ground beneath the thick fog.
"What's passive scan say?" he asked.
The copilot consulted his display and read off the information.
"Structure is two-point-oh kilometers from our present position. Landing zone approaching in two-point-eight minutes."
Ackerson nodded and patted the pilot on the shoulder.
"Good work," he said. "As soon as were down, your clear to return to the Unity."
The pilot looked at him, confused.
"Sir, are you sure you don't want us to…"
Ackerson growled, and the pilot stopped in his tracks, as the colonel returned to the troop compartment, just as the ramp lowered, bringing in the stench of fuel and burning grass with the view of a flat plain of jungle and scrub.
Mobuto stood up as the Pelican nosed in for a landing and eyed his men.
"Everybody look sharp!" he boomed. "I want a nice tight dispersal this time."
The dropship hovered a few meters above the sandy ground and Mobuto roared over the howl of the engines.
"Let's go, move it out!"
The Helljumpers climbed out of the troop bay, followed immediately by Ackerson and Mobuto as the Pelican deployed the Warthog, and nosed up into the sky, piercing the blue-white clouds and vanishing.
Ackerson looked at the viewfinder on his eyepiece and read off the distance to the massive structure.
"Set up a base camp here, and then we'll load out on the Warthog and head towards the structure at 1230."
Mobuto nodded, saluted him and then issued orders to the Helljumpers, who began to carry those commands out.
1230 Hours, September 12, 2520 (Military Calendar)
Planet Scorpio Major, Zeta II Reticuli system
Ackerson climbed into the passenger seat of the Warthog, and settled himself as Mobuto climbed in beside him, and put the vehicle in gear. The Helljumpers climbed into the back of the modified vehicle and grabbed hold of the specially made roll cage's steel frame. Mobuto looked at them, and stepped on the accelerator. The LRV lurched forwards, and towards the butte beyond.
Ackerson consulted his heads-up display and checked the location of the structure and then pointed to the southern ridge of the butte, and the sergeant nodded and pulled around a clutch of rocks, and over to the hills beyond.
The Warthog rounded the massive hillside as the structure appeared from the valley beyond, and Ackerson almost missed it, as he spotted the spire emerging from a jumbled mess of boulders. He tapped Mobuto on the shoulder and pointed to the pile of stones, and the sergeant slowed the vehicle to a stop.
Ackerson and the others climbed out, as he walked over to the protruding spire and stared at it. It was beautiful. With ancient rune markings and made from some type of metal/stone hybrid as Mobuto walked over to him and nodded towards the spire.
"So," the sergeant said. "That's it?"
Ackerson nodded and made a motion to the marines, who walked over, dragging a massive crate between them.
"Set up the reader over here," Ackerson ordered, and the marines got to work. They assembled a cylindrical device that ended in a point, where a small opening allowed a focused laser beam to scan the area around the spire, and send pulses deep underground, to outline the entire structure buried beneath the surface.
After several hours of scanning the entire perimeter, the scanner started to beep and Ackerson walked over and looked at the small screen mounted on a tripod.
From the display showing a faint red outline of the structure, it showed seven sides and that it must have several levels, either going up or down the structure's walls and that the one spire protruding from the ground was only one of several others situated on each of the seven sides, but any more definite details would be out of reach.
"Good," Ackerson said, smiling. "Very good."
Mobuto walked over to him and looked at the screen, as a howling wind roared over them, spraying dirt and sand in a cloud around them.
"Did you find it," he asked.
Ackerson nodded and stood up, looking into the dawning gray sky.
"Yes," he said as he pulled out a small tablet PC and turned it on, a holograph pad lighting up with an AI staring up at him, arms folded.
"Good morning, Colonel," the AI asked.
Ackerson looked at the display and nodded.
"Good morning, Thedus."
The artificial intelligence, Thedus, unfolded his cloaked hands and pulled back the black shroud over his head, showing long white hair flowing over the neck of the cape. He nodded and then a three-dimensional image of the structure appeared and then vanished.
"This," Thedus declared. "Is under the protection of Naval decree 01147-A, by the authority of Vice Admiral Parangosky. A message has been sent to FLEETCOM to request a fleet to this system to begin excavating the structure immediately."
Ackerson nodded and smiled.
"Good, very good."
He folded his arms as Thedus blinked out, vanishing from the holographic pad as Ackerson turned around and looked at Mobuto.
"Sergeant," he ordered. "Let's set up a perimeter for the excavation team."
Mobuto nodded and began issuing orders to the marines.
1704 Hours, September 22, 2520 (Military Calendar)
Planet Scorpio Major, Zeta II Reticuli system
Ackerson watched as the excavation team began unearthing the massive structure buried beneath with plasma cutters, laser drills as enormous treaded excavators began piling up the removed dirt and rocks around the perimeter, laying a stone pathway around the structure.
"When will the excavation be complete," he asked the chief technician, John Albaross, who checked the time on his helmet's eyepiece.
"We should be finished in two days."
Ackerson nodded and turned around as Mobuto approached him and looked at the slowly emerging construct.
"What do you think it was built here for?"
Ackerson placed a hand under his chin, and thought for a moment.
"I don't know…"
He stared into the sky, as a pair of Pelicans, laden with more equipment, scientists and a pair of treaded dozers dangling beneath them, roared over them and hovered several yards away from the dig site.
Chapter Two
0200 Hours, January 7, 2492 (Military Calendar)
Ackerson awoke with a start, the white bed sheets tangled all around him, to the sound of a insistent beeping on his wrist. He looked at himself, soaked with his own sweat and the sweet, lingering smell of perfume as the colonel touched a button on the watch attached to his wrist. He rubbed his eyes as the woman laying beside him rolled over, and opened her hazel eyes.
She looked at him, worry lines crossing her forehead as she brushed a strand of brown hair out of her eyes.
"What's wrong, James?"
He sat up and leaned over the edge of the bed, trying to rub out whatever dream he had just awakened from, when she leaned over, and placed an arm consolingly onto his shoulders. Ackerson looked at her, and took her hands, and gave them a gentle squeeze. She looked at him, into his eyes and then laid a hand onto his cheek as he sighed.
"I have to go."
She looked at him, still thinking he was half asleep and in a dream state.
"Where," she asked, "do you have to go?"
He stood up, and looked at her as she stared up at him, the sadness in his eyes, his mouth as his lips quivered and then he closed his eyes, and fought back those feelings.
"James," she said when he wouldn't answer. "Tell me."
He sighed explosively and then took her hands in his and got down onto his knees, touching the soft carpet floor underneath him.
"Rachel," he said. "I'm going back to Epsilon."
She looked at him, and only nodded as he leaned over, and kissed her lightly on the cheek, before getting out his freshly cut Colonel's uniform out of the bare closet.
She watched him get dressed, and as he began tying his tie, she stood up, and helped him adjust the jacket collar and the tie.
"Just be sure," she said. "You come back in one piece."
He leaned closer to her, and embraced her. After a moment, their lips touched in an everlasting kiss, until he pulled away, and gathered his black beret cap, a tablet PC and opened the apartment door.
Before he left, he turned around, to look at her as she rolled over to his warm spot on the bed, snuggle beneath the sheets and fall fast asleep. He smiled, then quietly pulled the door shut behind him as he left the small bedroom and apartment.
He stepped out into the hallway as a pair of marines stood waiting for him. He gave them a nod and then led them down the flight of stairs, and out into a small parking lot and courtyard as he climbed into the Warthog waiting outside.
As the LRV pulled out of the parking area, one of the marines handed him a small disc, which he slipped into the tablet PC, before a image of a thumbprint appeared. He sighed, and slipped his thumb onto the small inch-wide fingerprint reader as it scanned his thumbprint and matched it with the one on file. After a moment, the screen lit up with deployment orders, personnel records and then a long line of redacted thumbnails.
Those blacked out images were those of several marines that were killed in action, and, beneath those was a pair of images with question marks on them. That meant that those two soldiers were still MIAs, and have yet to be found.
Ackerson continued reading as the Warthog pulled onto a highway, and towards the mountains beyond. He scrolled ahead until he found what he really wanted to read: the force deployment orders.
He was going to be infiltrating, with a battalion of Special Forces marines called "Helljumpers," a deserted military research vessel that was thought to have been lost several years ago. And their main objective was to recover the data and mission logs, and if possible, any survivors that might've went into cryogenic stasis.
He turned off the tablet as the Warthog pulled onto a crumbling airstrip lined with hundreds of Pelicans sitting unused. The driver pulled over to one of the transports and stopped as Ackerson climbed out and walked towards the rear troop compartment. He looked inside as the marines stopped at the rear and just stared at him.
"What are we doing here," he asked, but the marines didn't answer. He looked at them, just as another Warthog pulled around the dropship, and another, and another, until four of them were there, along with a modified one made to carry passengers, and no weapons.
He climbed out of the back of the Pelican as a four-star general approached him. Ackerson snapped off a crisp salute, and the general returned it.
"General Howard," Ackerson said. "Such a pleasure to see you, sir."
Howard smiled and nodded to the waiting marines standing behind him, clad in their black combat armor.
"These are the Helljumpers, colonel. The most elite strike team in the UNSC."
Ackerson eyed them up, one-by-one.
"Sir," he said. "They look a little…wild, sir."
Howard laughed and slapped him on the back.
"Well," he chuckled. "Of course they are. It's an all-volunteer unit."
Then, one of the marines, a sergeant, walked over to Ackerson, saluted and then snapped off a response.
"Colonel," the corporal said. "Me and my team," he waved to the men and women standing around. "We can handle anything. Sir."
Ackerson nodded, then scrutinized the sergeant.
"Sergeant," he quipped. "Do you have any idea what our mission is?"
The sergeant nodded.
"Yes," he responded. "Our primary objective is to infiltrate a possibly enemy-owned military vessel, retrieve any data from the research and mission logs, and possibly the crew, if any of them went into the freezer before it jumped."
Ackerson smiled and then looked at him.
"Do you know of our extraction plan, sergeant?"
The man looked confused, for a second, then smiled and looked at Ackerson.
"Sir," he said. "Our extraction is going to be via a zero-gee transfer from the vessel to our base ship a few clicks away from us."
Ackerson nodded, impressed by the bravado and command this man brings with him.
But, he had to make one point clear.
"Sergeant," he asked, carefully modulating his voice. "What happens if one of your teammates is lost during the zero-gee transfer? How will you retrieve him, if you can rescue him before his vacuum suit's air supply wears out."
The sergeant thought about that for a moment and then smiled.
"Sir," he said. "My men are willing to accept the risk of losing our lives. We are prepared for anything and can handle any combat situation you should hand at us."
Ackerson grinned and turned to Howard who nodded and folded his arms as the sergeant looked at the colonel.
"Just one question: when do we leave?"
0430 Hours
The Pelican, laden with troops and Ackerson, lifted off the ruined tarmac airstrip, and vanished into the twilight of dawn.
Ackerson watched as the men and women played cards, checked their gear and weapons and talked to each other, when the sergeant entered from the cockpit, and stood above them.
One of the marines, a private stared at him through his piercing blue eyes, and held out a open palm to the sergeant.
"Where's my peanuts?"
The entire compartment suddenly erupted into roaring laughter as the sergeant sat by Ackerson, just as the Pelican slowed to orbit around a towering bulk of steel.
The Pelican docked on top of one of the secure loading platforms, as the enormous airlock doors cycled shut, and the air explosively reentered the cavernous chamber, filling it.
The troop bay cycled open, and Ackerson and the marines climbed out, and walked across a narrow catwalk spanning several hundred feet above the bottom of the enormous chamber, connecting their platform to the small hatch leading to the cryogenic chamber. A pair of technicians stood at the opposite side of the hatchway and led them down a narrow corridor, and into a cavernous room.
"Welcome to the freezer," one of the techs said as the other one keyed a control on a far wall, and a line of cryotubes lowered themselves from the ceiling to the floor in a cloud of icy fog. One of the marines rubbed his shoulders and looked at the sergeant.
"Jeez it's freezing!"
The sergeant growled a response as the first tech looked at them, and motioned to the far wall.
"If you'll please remove your clothes and step into the preparation room," he said with the air of a flight attendant. "We'll get you squared away."
One of the other marines looked at him, and grunted.
"What," he said. "No in-flight movie?"
The second technician shrugged as the first one keyed a control panel and a low rumbling sounded throughout the entire chamber until the sound of a thick liquid slapping the floor emerged from the small room beyond.
The squadron pulled off their fatigues and combat boots, and stepped into the narrow room where they were immediately assaulted by a freezing cold substance with the consistency of yellow jelly.
The marines groaned as they walked through the chamber, getting covered in the thick, viscous liquid.
Several of the marines looked at themselves, then each other, ribbing each other about how disgusting this stuff feels, and how it makes you smell, until the sergeant silenced them, continuously sick of the soldier's endless complaining.
They stepped back into the main chamber, and the tech motioned to their individual capsules, as the soldiers began dabbing off some of the viscous liquid, then the technician looked at them, and then waved a hand to the capsules."
"Now, if you'll just get into your cryotubes, we'll start the procedure right away."
Ackerson, the sergeant and all of the marines climbed into each of their own cylinders, as the technician aligned a small 'hat' over their heads. Attached to this hat like device were several needles that would inject soporifics into their skulls, numbing their brains. Then, the man inserted a pin sized needle into their arms, which would inject them with the agent that would assist them in falling into a infinite dreamlike state.
After all that was completed, the technicians secured the lids on the squadron's capsules, just as the marines' minds faded away into that trance-like limbo between awareness and sleep.
Then, Ackerson was the last to go under, and before he went into deep-sleep he did, as he always did, thought of his wife's beautiful face, and then he faded away, into that cognitive state of dreams.
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