Bolt For Freedom

[August 7, 2551]

[Fort Mercia, Meridian]

[Hestia star system]

[1806 Hours]

————

The sun about lowered around this time, and the dimness of night finally surpassed the base.

Fort Mercia was last of what personnel remained on Meridian, less than 2% of the original forces. Everybody else was either dead or had long since retreated to the rim of the system. It was official, Meridian had fallen. David had to come to terms with that, otherwise, it would continue to gnaw at him like a bad case of fleas. The Stardust was just about prepped for takeoff, again, and time was wearing thin but the HVI still hadn't been rolled forth, those specialists inside taking their sweet time doing what they said they'd do.

But they had to be patient. They've counted on it, their entire lives. The Spartans of CROW Team, namely David, continued to demand reports from the local technicians on what else needed to be done and what the hold-up was inside and ODSTs continued to handle the heavy supply lifting with the Army. Finally beginning to feel skeptical, Marley and David decided to go up to the prowler's command bridge and check in with Commander Flerring about the travel plan.

"Sir." Enlisted crewmen saluted them as they marched by, slowly closing the 1,000 length gap toward the top of the Stardust. It was a busy day, but it would only get busier as the time when on.

"We're heading through 19 Aurigae?" They stepped aboard the bridge lift which flexed under their armour's weight.

"Seems that way."

"That's dead space," David expressed as the Marley placed his hand on the handprint sensor. "Don't you remember what happened to the UNSC Georgia?"

"Hey, we agreed not to discuss that again," Marley said. "We mapped out a clearer route, so it shouldn't end that way. Just keep your eyes peeled and everything should go swimmingly."

"Well, alright. You're the boss, boss." David crossed his arms as the door split wide open and inside, they stepped off and took a look around. A rather compact bridge, everybody seemed to be at their primary stations and doing their proper job. Most were simply performing routine tasks, and analyzing the new operational data while others coordinated the working crew.

Commander Flerring was seated in his chair, painted a blue hue thanks to the dozen holograms lighting the way. They couldn't see his eyes behind those black-tinted shades of his, but the shape of his mouth said it enough. He was becoming just as impatient as they were.

"Commander, sir," The Spartans exchanged as they stepped forward.

It wasn't an uncommon sight for them to be on the bridge, so most of the bridge officers kept to themselves and occupations which was a fresh breath of air for David.

"Capt says there's been a hold-up. The HVI is having trouble being sedated. Muses, send word to the Marine Sergeant to send inspectors. This is taking too long." Flerring said, prompting David to buck up in response to the name he had called.

He heard the earlier intercom announcements but he assumed it was a voice pattern coincidence. How foolish that was. Of course, she became the new shipboard AI.

Within a flash of pink light, a small familiar translucent manifested from the lens of the holotank connected to near the viewport. Her doll-like face peered up from the pedestal, disciplinary and all with that young, naïve apparatus still quite present.

"Certainly, sir," Muses obeyed with a sense of eagerness and gave a small wave to the Spartans, before her smile faded into working neutrality.

"Huh," David smirked, a hand on his waist. "She adjusting accordingly, Commander?"

"Quite well. It took a few moments to adapt to the naval protocols, but her ONI programming adjusted easily to the task," He observed the digital mind as she worked hard. "She's kept a close watch on our sensors, perhaps a bit too restlessly but she knows her stuff."

"That'll come in handy, I'll bet." David crossed his arms, thoroughly intrigued by her easy integration. The complexities of artificial intelligence were something he was constantly looking up in his spare time.

For a brief moment, a red alarm flared by the surveillance officer's station, alerting most of those who weren't already invested in their tasks. Commander Flerring stood up from his chair and stepped toward the bridge officer, Lieutenant, Junior Grade Weller who was hastily typing commands into the console abundant with cautions.

"Weller?"

"Sir, unknowns picked up on the long-range scanners." LTJG. Weller expressed, halting his typing for a brief moment. "Something in orbit above us. High chance it could just be sunspot activity, but I'm not sure."

Speak of the devil. Commander Flerring looked over at the holotank, "Muses, come over here," he called out.

Soon, the AI manifested itself in a space beside the console and opened a holographic control panel. The Spartans strode behind them, watching intently at the development. Unknown. David didn't like unknown, and neither did the rest of his brothers-in-arms. Unknown usually meant danger.

Muses isolated the unidentified signatures, tidying up the red blips consistently flickering until they cleared, then consulted the classification code for the signatures she had managed to gather. Most of the fake, or proven harmless, were purged ultimately leaving only five approach signatures on the radar. As Muses continued to scan the classification code, her fingers began to tremble and her eyes slowly widened with fear.

"Well?" Flerring anticipated.

"Classification: DAV..." Muses read out loud, not fully understanding the definition but realizing enough. She craned her neck upward, staring longingly at the Titanium-A ceiling with her troubled doll eyes. Thankfully, the more experienced were able to fill in the holes.

Flerring jumped back into his seat and pulled up the intercom, "All hands on deck, Covenant corvette inbound! Commencing Combat Phase: Alpha!" He initiated the combat siren, painting the room with red light and darted his gaze towards the two Spartans as the crew around them scrambled to their seats.

David and Marley shot up a salute and hurried back toward the exit without a word.

It was the last thing the Spartans could've wanted. If the transportation was dragging on, an attacking corvette made things a hundred times worse. Fort Mercia had been established on a flat-topped mountain, originally an Air Force base meaning it was plentiful with hangar bays and triple-A. But besides the few dozen anti-air emplacements, it was still noticeably out in the open. Even if it's erected high, that corvette will fly higher.

"What's it doing out here?" David inquired to himself.

Thunder rumbled, fire flashed in the skies and an image that he had seen time again finally arose from the orange-grey clouds. The Spartans rushed down the welldeck, keeping the Marines at bay and perked up, and that's when they saw it.

A large air siren wailed over Fort Mercia as the luminous board of purple manta rays glid over the horizon, taking five more seconds to approach before relinquishing its weapons onto the base. Several hangar bays on the far side erupted like a bad volcano, hurling hundreds of white-fire-engulfed chunks of metal everywhere. If there was anybody inside those hangars, they were likely quite flash-vaporized by now.

In response, the base's surface-to-air systems immediately kicked in and numerous automated turrets and missile launchers rose from lifts seeded beneath the ground to fire upon the ship. Hundreds of explosions battered the portside hull, doing some semblance of damage but not enough to ward off the attack as the corvette closed in.

"Where the hell is that asset?"

"Shit. We need to leave! Now!" The ODSTs yelled over the chaos and each other.

No. That wasn't an option. If the Stardust tried to fly, it would be dead before it left the ground.

With a flash of green, the platform flexed and lurched, nearly tumbling the welldeck personnel over. Crying in the skies, a squadron of cruciform aircraft adjusted position and spiralled eastward from the hangar in a continuous bombing run, plunging hot plasmic fuel rods onto the automated defences, reducing them to ash before flying away and rehearsing. The skies were all jammed up, with both the corvette and the Banshee fighters streaking over the facility taking out everything that wasn't the main building.

"Armoury..." Marley looked over at the distraught Army Specialists as the Spartans sprang out from the welldeck onto the platform, with parts of Phoenix Squad slowly following behind them. "Where's the armoury?!"

"Westward to the TAC-Center!" The Army trooper explained, pointed.

The Marines cried out as a Banshee shrieked by, plasma cannons at rapid fire which rocked the platform again. It missed, but the plasma burned into the metal grate with a continuous, bubbling sizzle.

"Crow Three," Marley switched on TEAMCOM. "We're bolting for the armoury, we need you keeping those Banshees off our asses! Copy?"

"Copy. Handling it," Ichika replied with a monotone voice, even in the face of this sudden danger.

Several cracks echoed just as noisily as the attacking Covenant. A Banshee coughed up smoke, struggling to keep up as part of its chassis flaked off, leaving a tail of fire in its path as it soared for safety in the distance.

"One step ahead as always," David laughed, grabbing his BR off the mag-mount and pulling the charging handle back for a hefty metal click.

David and Marley uncurl their legs before dashing the command buildings, working their armour's force-multiplying circuits to outrun the hail of ash, sand, and fire hailing everywhere. Bravo Six split off into two fireteams, one keeping close protection of the Stardust while the second team trailed behind the Spartans, heaving and snoring to catch up with the supersoldiers at full race.

Army troopers were scattered like ants scrambling to defend their hill from the attack which came as a complete surprise despite the circumstances. There were flashes as the Banshees continued to streak overhead and take out scores of anyone trying to make security attempts.

The corridors of the main building swelled brightly as sirens constantly whirled, flashing them with red colouring every one-and-a-half seconds. Personnel scurried by with tunnelled focus, hoisting all sorts of HMGs, rocket launchers, explosives and grenade launchers they could get their gloves on. With the number of armaments dragged out, David worried whether there would be enough left for them to spare.

The constant chaos outdoors continued to keep the base in a heavy quake of white noise that was soon mixed with the disturbance of friendly gunfire, not just missiles but ballistics.

Marley just about rounded the corner with his followers, slapping an index to his temple as they filed into the armoury which suffered from what David feared.

A large portion of the armaments had already been stripped, entire racks and cabinets emptied, and for good reason. There wasn't much, but they did what they could. The ODSTs stressfully restocked themselves with 7.62 rounds for their ARs, borrowing all they could and cutting no corners. Marley stomped toward the opposite side of the room for greater initiatives and snatched an M319 leaning on the wall. He grabbed all the 40mm that remained–which wasn't much–and loaded the first one in.

David on the other hand plugged into a panel on the wall and began to trace out a rough schematic of the base using the electrical wirings.

"Crow One, Crow Three, how copy?" Ichika sounded over the COMs, a usually rare occurrence.

Marley whipped his grenade launcher upward, slapping the two components together with a grenade now in place, "Go ahead, Three."

"The corvette dropped anchor. It's deploying ground forces by the north end of the airfield. Banshee traffic is minimizing, but not by a lot."

"That's good news..." One of the Marines sighed with relief, taking a moment to pause and revise his words. "I mean the air support."

"Yeah, we know what you meant," David made his usual idle chatter as he ripped the cord from the wall with the outline ready. "One of the hangars still has a guided missile emplacement combat-ready. Hangar Tango Beta Three."

From what he was reading, this particular Lance was armed with more volatile munitions than the ones that got nicked earlier. The more he tuned the TACMAP, the more he realized the hangar's distance from the main building. It had survived the main bombardment, but there was no shot that he'd be able to rush there in time without the Banshees catching on and blowing it sky-high, and they both understood that.

What they also understood was–for unknown reasons–the Banshees never struck the TOC, or any of the main buildings, not even the armoury. Any moment, the roof could've caved from repeated batteries. They almost appeared to have been purposely steering their fuel rod targeting away from any of the main buildings so they were safe inside, only until the reported Covenant ground force pushed through. The sounds of gunfire made it so, that the Army was putting up a fight.

The asset. That could only be the reason why. This is a rescue mission.

And that couldn't happen. Before the crew exited the armoury, Marley also grabbed a handgun-shaped device off the wall–an M363 Remote Sticky Detonator–locking one of the cylindrical explosive canisters to the barrel.

"Why does everything you do involve explosives?" David had to ask.

Marley didn't respond, but he could feel him grinning behind that helmet of his. He holstered the DMG to his hip, then snatched ahold of his MA37. The ODSTs exhaled, steeling themselves to face the ensuing uglinesses outside in the wretched combat zone. In a firefight, anything goes so they just had to remember their training and everything should ascertain safety.

Marley stacked up by the sliding door, constantly battering at the repeated fire. He adjusted his left pauldron's position, putting forward his shoulder. Then, he plodded back a few inches before slamming the full weight of his MJOLNIR into the door's centre, shattering its hinges, breaking in the black moonlight coloured in flames and dashed out with the door shielding him.

Volleys of neon lights began to spiral from the black dimness and knead into the door, cutting deep black swathes, melting and bending it into an obtuse shape. Marley slammed it into the gravel, swinging right to blast a burst of concentrated rounds through a flanking levy of Grunts, bursting open their methane tanks and spraying the air with hot gas.

He slammed his back against the shapeless door, urging it to tilt before grabbing the edges and removing it from the dirt.

A Jackal squawked and tried to hurry back, but the raging armoured Spartan was too fast and he violently smashed the door onto the alien's head, flattening its skull. David turned out of the naked doorway, engaging several Jackals in his way to carving a path to the target hangar with Marines providing escort. The fire was still everywhere and by this point over half of the base had been completely engulfed in it.

Marley rolled left as a green fuel rod impacted the gravel beside him, showering him with hot specks of grit. He holstered the MA37 and whipped out his M319 Grenade Launcher as the culprit Banshee fighter veered to stay aloft. With a mechanic thunk, the barrel spat out a 40mm grenade which flew into the sky at a perfect angle until it was a hairsbreadth from the Banshee's tail. Marley released the squeezed trigger, enveloping the craft in a brine electromagnetic pulse. Its engines died immediately, its wings folded and coughed as it spiralled to the ground and skipped along the concrete until it a corner.

The aviator tried to reactivate, but Marley shot off another EMP underhanded and disabled it again, its rear end flopping down like a defeated fish. The canopy lifted and an Elite clambered out of the immobilized craft, its head trickling with purple blood as it laid eyes on the approaching Spartan with anger.

"DEMON!" It ignited an energy sword and began to charge, a beeping cylinder slammed into its shoulder and threw it back.

Marley stood there, shouldering his M319 with the Sticky Detonator pointed in the opposite hand. Before the Elite could make another noise, the beeping cylinder shrieked and detonated. A wall of smoke briefly arose, but the motion tracker on Marley's HUD was vacant. The grey veil dispersed and the Elite laid on its side, its right shoulder disbanded and singed.

Marley tossed away the shot M363 and grappled to the Banshee's wing. He dragged the craft out of the corner, rotating it until it stood up straight. Despite the damages, it looked functional enough so Marley dove into the cockpit.

"Crow Two, proceed to the hangar. I'll keep those damn fighters of you."

David flashed his fingers at the Marine fireteam and signalled to push on. David hurdled over a pile of debris, spraying heavy bursts into the entrenching hostiles in his path, ripping through continuous files of Grunts and Jackals. Bolts struck his armour, flashing his energy shields but he kept pushing on until his BR55's ammo-counter indicated zero.

When it clicked empty, David flung the weapon aside and dashed right into the Jackal's face, rolling his fists to deliver a devastating right hook to its fragile beak. He felt the force of the blow chip bone as it lifted the avian extraterrestrial into the air and hurled it into a burning mound where its body cooked like a rotisserie chicken.

He spun around to come face with a trio of Grunts cowering before him, pistols threatening to flee out of their hands due to how hard they were shivering in fear.

"Alright."

David reached up and unsheathed his knife.

Meanwhile, a Banshee in the sky ignited in flames and came spiralling into the earth, slamming into the mountain and blowing up on impact. Marley barrel-rolled to the left to evade an incoming fuel rod projectile, spraying away his plasma cannons, bursting open the wing of a fourth Banshee fighter stalking behind his craft. The damaged wing sent the fighter bobbing for the ground, gliding over the fence lines of the base before an ear-piercing thump rocked the cliff's edge.

It had been literal years since he'd flown one of these things. And he's still got it.

He just adjusted his craft and swivelled upwards, as another Banshee was heated in his tail and trying to put a bold end to the air superiority competition. But like the ones before, its chassis ignited in a smog of black before plummeting into a knoll of debris.

Marley zoomed over his comrades to assess the devastation. Ichika had boosted himself onto a parapet on the upper platforms, taking potshots at the entrenching Covenant below for the first fireteam. So far, defence was tight and nobody had been able to cut through. As he pivoted left, that's when his scanners fell on something being wheeled out of the facility toward the Stardust's cargo bat. A large cryopod frigid tight, Army troopers standing at each side.

"Crow Two, this is Crow One. The asset is being transported now. Report?"

David booted a Grunt in the face, encasing his blade before thrusting his body through the target hangar's side door. His HUD inspected every notable piece of equipment, loaded up to the ceiling. Floodlights, tools and a scarcely disassembled UH-144 Falcon lay in the centre on sky blue sheet, surrounded by dozens of boxes and cargo. Along the wall behind it was a large pillar wrapped in a tarp, David rushed forward and yanked it off to the reveal the M95 Lance.

"Dealing with it!" David responded, clutching the emplacement's legs and beginning to tug it toward the door through the use of his enhanced strength. Three Marines amassed behind it as he separated it from the wall, supporting the enormous AA emplacement and somewhat counterbalancing the Spartan's weight.

Corporal Vilmov–one of the ODSTs in the fireteam–grabbed and uncoiled the convoy of chains besides the hangar door and wrenched down repeatedly, raising the door aloft, disclosing the protracted runway lit up by the fires of war. Surprising no one, a file of Jackals skipped over and the Marines dove for cover by the Falcon while David waited to push on.

With a distant bang, a spiralling sniper round shredded through the file, and the Marines swayed out of cover to mow down the disoriented stragglers with their assault rifles.

"Grab their shields. Gimme some cover!" David shouted out, taking a breath as he slammed the M95 onto the pavement by the garage edge.

The Marines swiped the Jackals' point defence gauntlets, confused at first, but were able to learn fast as they come under fire.

David applied his TACPAD to the M95's electronic panel, but there was a hard safety forbidding fire. He knelt there for minutes, as the area turned into a real light show as Covenant sprayed repeated globs of plasma all in their direction.

"(Kill that Demon!)" A bronze-clad Elite howled orders, spitting hot give out of his Type-25 Plasma Rifle clutched between his quad-fingered fist.

The mayhem never stopped. Buildings boiled. Gunfire blared. And the ground around them exploded, flashing flares of gold and purple every minute. And it was all getting into David's head.

"Come on, you bastard..." David grumbled impatiently, working his brain as quickly as it would allow him to bypass the locks.

But in the corner of his eye, a trail of plasma ripped through one of the Marines' shoulders. David's heart jumped as the Marine let out a bone-chilling scream, threw down his shield, and fell on his back.

"Hsieh! Cover me, I'm gonna get 'em!"

"We can't!"

The Helljumper's frantic yells of fear and agony echoed through the firefight, shaking around David's head like a painful case of tinnitus. And then they stopped, bright crystalline shards blowing through the soldier's stomach, dyeing his innards black as they burst.

David smacked the stand of the M95, ripping out the cord and back into his TACPAD.

"She's up!" David flicked on the machine, the missile battery came to life with a few inner gears, slowly raised and traced the towering vessel in the sky taking precedence over the base. "Going missiles loose!"

The Lance's barrel browned up and gushed steam out of its keg, the Marines laying over their ears and the approaching Covenant shrieking over. There was a deafening boom, which rapidly shot eight smouldering projectiles into the night sky one by one, flying up at untrackable rates towards the light corvette.

As expected, the several missiles slammed into the portside hull of the ship like a drum being beat and several layers of that compartment burst into flame. An illuminate cloud of fire puked from the breach, and the discouraged vessel began started to drift off, ceasing all weaponry, burning its thrusters to the max to evade any further damage to its infrastructure.

"Good hit, it's staving off! All calls, fall back to the UNSC Stardust, I say again, fall back to the Stardust! We. Are. LEAVING!" Marley hastened the thrusters of his Banshee fighter at incredible accelerations before raising the canopy, hurling himself out and somersaulting onto the grated platform while the craft skimmed into the ground and slammed into the amassing Covenant troop slowly clotting in front of David's team.

Ichika leaped off of his vantage point, swapping out his sniper rifle for his MA2B. He emerged behind Marley and fired away at the last levy of Grunts scrambling up the staircase, hitting their bodies back down and into the burning soil.

The UNSC Stardust's engine ports commenced a destructive fire up as the Spartans filed in through the ramp, the thrusters charring a deep blue as they waited for.

"David, get over here!" Marley shouted.

David fixed on the slain Marine as globs of plasma whisked past his head, periodically flaring his shields.

'That could've been avoided...' was all he was thinking about, a deep despair wallowing in his heart, but the yells of the other members of the fireteam screamed his name.

"LIEUTENANT! We have to go!" They yelled for him, instantly snapping his attention forward.

David clicked his tongue, "Bloody hell..." primed two frag grenades and tossed them into the disoriented fray. They exploded a bright gold and expanded the already-ripped hole within the line.

David lurched just as several fireballs blew into his armour, flaring his shields and seeping them of energy but he shook it off and kept going with his BR55 in hand. The Marines gulped, initially gaping at each other with doubt before beginning to follow behind him, Jackal shields and sidearms at defence. Private Hsieh's body remained where it was. As much as it anguished them, there was bigger fish to fry. With cover support from the platform, David burst through the enemy lines like a battering ram, ushering for the lower caste to run before him.

The Stardust was all hot and ready, trembling at the safety constraints. David slammed the butt of his rifle into the head of Jackal, blowing three rounds into his face before making it to the grated staircase. But even after the fireteam was able to safely make into the ship, the Spartan was still slanted on the stairwell, blasting through into anything that moved in the far, blazing distance.

"David? DAVID!" Marley aggressively clasped his shoulder pauldron.

"What about the Army personnel?!" David spun around and implored.

"We've got what we came for! Now climb aboard. That's an order!"

David took one look over the base, which was still heavily under siege and cursed beneath his breath, grinding his teeth before rushing up and finally springing onto the welldeck ramp. His boots thumped the ground with a clang, right as it hissed and fastened shut.

The Helljumpers hit the ground all over the cargo bay, yelling and groaning with exhaustion and respite, throwing their weapons away, yanking off their helmets to kiss the titanium floor after that all that. The UNSC Stardust's engines burned hot and the prowler back to commence movement, vibrating as the Covenant forces maintained desperation but by the time they did even minimal damage, it was already up in the air and trailing towards the skies.

David eased his faceplate, also grasping a sense of relief washing through him, but then he noticed Marley marching up. David let out a sigh, standing taller in preparation for the harsh scolding he assumed he would receive, but Marley simply lifted his hand, and gently put it over David's shoulder. It remained that way, five seconds becoming slightly sheepish before Marley stepped back.

"Remember what I said, Dave," He remarked before turning to walk off.