On a black, black night, on a dark, dark night planet, several drop pods fell silently and unnoticed. Straight into a dark, dark forest. Perhaps someone could have noticed this fact, but it was pouring rain on the planet, making the surroundings even darker, and the methane atmosphere didn't encourage activity from oxygen-lovers. Everyone not bound by duty had hidden under a roof.
Though for the Grunts, it should be fine; they breathe methane. But I can assume the rain isn't to their liking either.
In any case, the Humans dropped a special forces squad onto the planet. The target: a Covenant complex, their chemical plant, and an assembly line for strike craft. Infiltrate, extract data, blow it up. In that order.
Finding the planet itself was also a stroke of luck, a result of scouting the Mass Relays of the Orion Arm. And such worlds were found. A Relay was nearby, so the stealth frigate could approach the planet closely without the usual time costs; flying directly would have taken six months one way. This way, it was two days from the Relay and we were there. Then, the pod drop and forward.
The Possessed was being deployed in a pod for the first time—or more accurately, in an extra-atmospheric single-seat landing module. A four-meter metal teardrop equipped with a braking system. Quite comfortable inside; there's even an air circulation system, you can smoke. Under the seat is a space for a backpack, and to the left and right of the seat are niches for weapons.
There's a window and a screen, but it's dark outside and almost nothing interesting is visible. We are landing far enough away so that there are no traces of the enemy. Only darkness, clouds, rain, and below—a forest. Quite unusual, purple and bizarre, but a forest.
As soon as the pod opened, an operative in sealed pressurized armor and a Geth were waiting outside. I specifically didn't take armor like these guys, limiting myself to a reinforced suit painted black. According to the cover story, The Possessed is a hacker, and if she wore special forces armor, it would be an insult to the latter. Proud individuals, almost on the level of Spartans. On the other hand, they need me to extract data and hack the plant, so I'm met quite predictably.
"All good?" a soldier asked over the internal comms.
I inspected the platform, the two Magnums hanging at my belt, and nodded.
"Fine. You guys are crazy, dropping in an unguided pod into an unknown forest."
The Geth blinked its flashlight silently, and the marine laughed.
"Thank you, ma'am," and waved for me to follow him.
The Geth and I followed, exchanging a look. Crazy, what can you say.
First, the squad gathered together, set the pods to self-destruct with a three-hour delay, and then ran toward the enemy base. The terrain was rugged, there were never any roads, so we moved in a column on foot: Humans, Geth, and a Krogan. Command insists on joint operations. Cohesion, and it's easier for soldiers to relate to other races when they're in the same trench with you.
A sensible approach. Two hours passed like that.
When we ran out to the Covenant outpost, everything had already been cleared; the bodies were piled in one of the buildings, and five more soldiers and Geth were found in cover. The squad sergeants met, greeted each other, and while the squads rested, discussed the situation and new opportunities.
"There's transport here. Four Ghosts with Covenant IDs."
"Not enough for us. A dozen soldiers, as many Geth, a Krogan. We won't fit. So, use them only for raids or scouting."
The first nodded in agreement.
"Also, sooner or later, The Covenant will realize we killed their patrol."
The squad sergeant just waved it off.
"That's expected. We'll send a squad ahead; with vehicles, the clearing will be faster. We'll get there faster, resolve the issue faster."
The Possessed, without looking up from her console, said:
"Reminder: the enemy has an alert system here; they'll see your vehicles approaching. There will be little time for a surprise strike. They see vehicles, but not infantry. They can't see Geth on them."
I was looked at somewhat condescendingly. As if to say, don't teach your grandmother to suck eggs. Well, my job is to warn; I've done my part. Our group's sergeant finally said:
"Understood, we'll handle it."
I nodded and walked over to a container with a console and an antenna. Right, let's see if I can find anything useful. No one bothered The Possessed, only the sergeant asked:
"Anything interesting?"
Just a moment, a little more.
"A map of the nearest posts. Not much, but it seems the Covies aren't particularly comfortable navigating here either. Sending it now. Done, receive the packet."
During this time, four Humans and eight Geth loaded onto the Ghosts, which sagged noticeably from the weight. But they waited for the map and only then drove off.
"Great, move out!" the sergeant waved, and we went our separate ways. The Ghosts drove slightly to the left, while we took the right.
Four soldiers and eight Geth on the hulls. Not the best, but not the worst way to travel. If they can capitalize on the situation and the surprise factor, they'll take out several more outposts before an alarm is even raised.
Anti-grav is much more useful in a forest like this than wheels. Simply because wheeled vehicles wouldn't be able to drive here at all. As for us, we just have to run; no one is going to let a hacker into the lead squad anyway.
And no Spartans, just Humans, Geth, a Krogan, and our brutality. After all, Humans have hundreds of super-soldiers, and they are distributed across different locations and important sites; they can't be sent on every mission. We have to manage on our own.
"Tired?" one of the soldiers checked with The Possessed. "We've been running for three hours without a break."
The Possessed shook her head.
"I've had training, ready to continue," even if I have to simulate heavy breathing, the platform will run as long as the battery lasts.
He looked me over and nodded.
"Good, one more hour and then a break. Forward!"
And again the running, and again the dark forest and the rain. We passed another outpost, acquiring a couple more Ghosts to replace those damaged in the skirmish. Once we had to lie low as a Phantom flew overhead, but it didn't slow down, flying further.
Actually, the break was as stealthy as possible; we sat in the roots of trees, without fires, lamps, or anything similar. Sitting and listening to the rain drumming on the armor, occasionally talking. Black shadows on a dark night.
"Lots of Grunts here. Weak, but there are really a lot of them," one of the soldiers noted.
I replied:
"Methane in the air, they can breathe here; it's their colony."
"Yeah," another soldier nodded, "that was in the briefing."
As if hinting that they already knew all this. Fine then. I'll say something else I found.
"There's actually an Unggoy city here. To the southwest."
Everyone immediately looked at The Possessed. Oh, these people.
"Why didn't you say so?" the sergeant asked sternly.
I shrugged.
"I'm not entirely sure it's a city. It's just that according to the logs, the Ghosts are supposed to fly to the plant. But they keep flying in that direction. The control system sees it, but they keep flying there. Must be a city. But I have no proof."
The sergeant thought and replied:
"Still, you should have said. If they hit us from the rear, there will be problems," and whispered, "civilians..."
I snorted; I had played it safe anyway. Transmitters connected to the alert system (tuned to vehicles, the Covenant version of radar) were still active. The range isn't great, but we don't need much. I have to restrain my capabilities because of the cover story.
"I didn't hack their terminals for nothing. If transport appears, we'll know. Or rather, I will, and then I'll tell you."
A soldier snorted at that.
"Intelligence, who would have doubted it."
"Well, no longer civilian," The Possessed smirked.
"That's not a compliment," another soldier threw out.
I replied calmly; the identical opaque helmets hid all facial expressions anyway.
"I know."
Suddenly, a previously silent Geth spoke.
"Officer-sergeant. We are detecting transmissions on Citadel Space frequencies. With high probability, their squad is present on the planet. Awaiting confirmation."
Everyone immediately tensed up.
"Direction?"
"Forty degrees by the current magnetic vector, lag ten," the machine replied.
A compass is extremely universal on most worlds. Some indicators may differ, but if a planet has a magnetic field, you can get north and south. Forty degrees—that's northwest.
Of course, the dialogue is happening over the internal comms; outwardly, several black shadows on a dark, rainy night are just looking at each other. The sergeant turned to me.
"If we capture the post, can you determine where they are?"
I spread my hands.
"Only if they have vehicles or if the Covies have decent search equipment to eavesdrop on comms. Covie stations don't even see us, for that matter. In terms of radars and life detectors, ours are better than theirs."
"Then how did you hear them?" the man immediately checked with the Geth.
"The frigate dropped a tracking satellite. We are also familiar with the frequencies of Citadel intelligence services. We are listening."
The sergeant exhaled.
"Great. And why am I only finding out about this now?"
A fair complaint. A quick check—no, it's all in the dossier.
"I think you just didn't pay attention," and at the look in my direction, I added, "the dossier includes both the Geth's eavesdropping capabilities and my hacking skills. We were attached to you partly as technical specialists with our own equipment."
The man irritably snapped:
"I'm not a computer guy to know what 'high capabilities for hacking, analysis, and network tracking' means, with alphanumeric protocols listed. And you didn't show that during training. And anyway! Usually, a mobile listening station doesn't walk with us."
"It does now, officer-sergeant," the machine replied indifferently.
I smirked. On one hand, the sergeant was right; he just hadn't thought about or gotten used to the possibilities offered by interacting with the Geth or me. Limited thinking. It's generally hard for Humans to accept that I can be in many places at once or speak for several characters with different personalities in parallel. Not to mention the capabilities of someone who is part of a network.
I realized this while studying local AIs. A machine sees the world as a set of zeros and ones. And even with an interpreter, it's still a set of zeros and ones, just slightly different, endowed with more functions.
And here, the program conflicts with perception. For a Geth, the set of zeros and ones is primary; the concepts of death, pain, emotions, beauty, and ugliness are alien to them. Only functionality and efficiency metrics. All terms are interpretations of those same zeros and ones (or other symbols, if the code is, for example, ternary).
For Human AIs, created from a human brain, the human version of the world is primary. Both sides can perceive the world like their opponent, but the foundation they start from is always the same. This gives rise to errors.
It's complicated for me. After all, because of the crowd of juniors and working with other systems, I am not limited by human perception, and I see no problem in moving a dozen Avatars of different involvement levels, squads of robots, and code simultaneously; I learned to see the world from many different points long ago. But for Humans, especially military ones, it's hard. So I just have to give the Humans a break. Limited creatures, what can you do. Humans.
So I just spent a few minutes explaining the Geth's capabilities and some of mine needed for the mission. At this, the man only grunted, clearly impressed.
"Convenient. And are they going to give us this every time now?"
"Probably," I agreed, "Geth are universal."
"And Krogan are strong and lethal," the latter put in.
"No doubt, big guy," the sergeant agreed, "I'm just not used to it. We never had this kind of luxury before."
With that, we moved on. More carefully, looking for traces of Citadel presence. Moreover, the closer we got, the more Covenant defense systems appeared. Stationary PKO guns and turrets, Banshees and Ghosts as patrols, Covenant buildings. There are no roads in the classical sense; with the abundance of anti-gravs, they simply aren't needed, only paths and bridges for infantry.
"Barracks," one of the soldiers pointed out, looking around.
Indeed, separate from three buildings (a central tower of a fast-deploy base and two clearly industrial complexes with a large hangar), on a large open area combined with a parking lot, stand the barracks.
A four-story circular building resembling a turtle shell with a hangar exit where the "head" would be, around which paths are trodden and Ghosts—nearly twenty of them—are parked. And completely open space. The forest around the base has been completely cleared, the plants killed off by something, so only sand and orange lichens, visible even in the dark, remain. There is no cover whatsoever—not good.
If we poke our heads out, we'll be noticed immediately and they'll start destroying us. It turns out the last part of the journey will have to be done as part of a frontal assault.
The squad on Ghosts can provide support, but if we allow the enemy in the barracks to wake up, there will simply be too many enemies. Not to mention the numerous defense towers, which can take out a Ghost in one hit. And I'm not the only one who realizes this. A frontal assault is not an option.
Fortunately, the Humans brought a wide variety of toys for different occasions on this mission. We have snipers, Geth-leapers, and heavy weaponry. And even a distraction can be found. For example, phosphorus in the pods, which can be used to set the forest on fire by detonator command. Even in this rain, it will be a distraction, albeit a brief one.
Running through mud is a mediocre pastime, as we found out firsthand. But somewhere out there is another squad, the Citadel forces. The sergeant asked:
"Has the second group been found?"
The Geth immediately replied:
"Fragments of transmissions have been recorded along the previous vector," at that moment, several kilometers behind us, something exploded very loudly, shaking the ground. "Analysis: likely the detonation of a large plasma container. Likely a distraction for the enemy away from us. The direction of the explosion corresponds to the previously cleared outpost."
The sergeant cursed.
"Did they intercept the transmissions?"
"Or they saw the pods," another soldier suggested.
"Light it up," that was directed at me.
So I pressed a key on the tablet.
"Done. The Covies will have another point of interest."
In any case, it's about to start. They'll comb the territory, find traces of our presence, or even us. And then the competitors will be able to pass while we fight off The Covenant. But it's not that simple, is it?
The sergeant immediately switched to the mobile squad's channel.
"Task: lead the pursuers in a northwestern direction. Banshees are moving toward you. Coordinates transmitted. Break away and head to the extraction point. Let the Geth go; it's not dangerous for them."
The Ghosts are mobile enough to lead the Banshees toward the authors of the explosion. In this weather, it's not even convenient for pilots to fly, let alone look out to see who's in the cockpit.
And indeed, the patrol Banshees shifted to the side, searching for their targets from the air. More than a dozen Ghosts drove off in that direction as well. The remaining ones and the infantry stayed at the base, reinforcing firing points and taking up positions for all-around defense. The infantry forces consisted mostly of Grunts and a small group of Elites, likely officers.
"Officer-sergeant, a group of Geth that detached from the mobile group has engaged Citadel forces. Likely the saboteurs who caused the explosion."
"Can you handle it?"
"Four enemies, suppression in progress. Damage sustained, two platforms lost, three wounded soldiers. Enemy destroyed."
Excellent. Over the comms, I gave the order to dispose of the destroyed Geth's transmitters and withdraw. They are expendable, but there's no need to waste them pointlessly and attract Covie attention.
An alarm was raised at the base—high, squeaky signals; everyone is running, searching for us, preparing. Meanwhile, we are at the edge of the forest on the far end of the base, looking around, figuring out how l—
better to attack. Well, we're waiting for the Citadel forces to make a move. Half of the base security left to search—some on Ghosts, some on a Phantom—now is the best time to strike. So why are they waiting?
Our diversionary group confirmed they are leading the enemy toward the approximate route of the Citadel forces, to where we heard the transmissions and where their main squad should be. We just need to find them before the Geth are wiped out.
They found themselves. The Banshees simultaneously began to bank south and open fire (we're sitting to the southeast, the patrol flew off to the northeast), but in response to the plasma spits, a roar and the chatter of rapid-fire guns erupted, and in the darkness, tracers simply tore through the hulls of the Banshees. They fell like stones into the mud.
"Who the hell is that?" a soldier asked.
I just smirked.
"How interesting," I thought—I need to record as much as possible; it'll come in handy.
Several shadows flew out of the forest, which upon closer inspection turned out to be single-seat flying bikes shaped like spears and painted black. Behind them were six more small Citadel shuttles. All this hardware unleashed a rain of bullets from the air with a characteristic chatter (six barrels, if I counted correctly), and the shuttles began dropping explosives. First and foremost on the PKO towers, taking advantage of the chaos. Unggoy are quite cowardly and panic easily.
"What do we do?" one of the soldiers clarified.
It's fairly obvious that our competitors didn't fly here just to loot the place. An anti-aircraft plasma tank tried to roll out of the barracks hangar—one that had twin heavy long-range plasma cannons instead of a large mortar, plus a heavy plasma turret—but missiles detached from the flying "bikes," sealing the exit with a carcass burning with blue flame.
"These guys have flying bikes too," another soldier grumbled, "why don't we have anything like that?"
Meanwhile, a couple of bombs fell on the barracks and the building caught fire. And while the shock troopers deal with the Covenant, the shuttles began dropping explosives and missiles on other targets, blowing everything apart. Moreover, one shuttle was equipped with a grenade launcher firing mini-nuclear charges. A powerful thing, considering it's small itself. Essentially a mounted grenade launcher, but it brings down rooms just like that, destroying cover. All this under the roar of explosions, shots, fires, the hissing of water, and the scream of alarms.
"Looks like we're not going in there," I noted philosophically, "those machines are stitching up the Covies way too fast. They must have plenty of ammo."
The sergeant nodded.
"Get ready, we'll leave them a little parting gift."
I continued recording the fight. The Covies oriented themselves a bit and even shot down three machines and a shuttle. To their regret, the enemy brought missiles with them and placed snipers and rocketeers in the bushes, so any attempts at stationary defense to fight back quickly ended with a self-guided projectile. And without them, there is still damage, but not as critical. After all, the Covies have too little cover from aerial attacks.
Then the competitors began their landing. A drop pod squad with jetpacks was sent down. Well, now there's definitely nothing for us to do there. Especially since some of the paratroopers ran into the building, while others were unloading some large container. Hmm-hmm-hmm. I contacted the Geth, forwarding the target data.
"Aim at that box," and then, over the internal comms, "and take my processing power; we need to hit it on the first try. I think it's a bomb."
Without a word, the Geth aimed the tube of the rocket launcher where instructed. For a human, a range of half a kilometer is a bit much for a hit. But a machine, with proper guidance, can make it. Especially since the second Geth rocketeer also aimed there. I called out:
"Sergeant? How do you feel about arson and murder?"
He replied in a cheerful voice, clearly understanding what was about to happen:
"Go for it, boys, let's rock this hole! Burn it down!"
And the rockets flew toward the target.
And then it EXPLODED. I don't know what kind of explosive was in there, but the central tower building took it hard; about a third of the structure crumpled in a bright white flash, and the building began to tilt. Importantly, the paratroopers and both shuttles were simply vaporized. Judging by the flash, there was a second such little bomb on board the second one. It became as bright as day.
The factory connected to the central tower went dark, as did the chemical plant. However, they were being pelted with bombs from other vehicles, and their own drop pod group had at least entered the chemical plant as well.
"Time for us to go, boys and girls," the sergeant said immediately, "we're taking an English leave. Run, and no goodbyes!"
We bolted into the forest, as the survivors were very upset by the sudden explosion, and the Covies would clearly notice it and return.
Well, why not—trying to fight both the Covies and the Citadel, or screwing everyone over at once since they managed to get there first. I suspect the thought of searching for Covenant worlds through a Mass Relay had occurred to them too. In any case, we need to put as much distance between us as possible now, because there were large ships in orbit; they might start burning the area with plasma just to be sure, and it would be hard to drag Pelicans for evacuation into the PKO and PKO zone. So forward, running through the forest.
The rain stopped, the night is ending. And we run, while the roar of shots, the hum of aviation, and other attributes of battle echo behind us.
"Everyone down!"
A Phantom roared overhead, but the squad quickly scattered under the trees. Fortunately, the forests are quite dense, even if they are purple. The vehicles didn't stop, but judging by the noise, there are more and more people wanting to get to us.
"We've stirred up hell," someone said dreamily.
And the Geth asked:
"In what way can one set in motion a folkloric place where minds go after physical death?"
Amidst the chuckles, I simply dumped the data; let them explain it themselves later. We still need to get out of here.
***
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