- Rainman89
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Read about the Forgotten Spartan I Program
Butane: To protect the world from devastation!
sir_brilliant: To unite all people within our nation!
Rainman89: To denounce the evils of truth and love!
sir_brilliant: To extend out reach to the stars above!
SpaceGhostFlyer: Jessie!
Butane: James!
sir_brilliant: Team Rocket blasting off at the speed of light
Butane: Surrender now or prepare to fight
sir_brilliant: Meowth, that's right!
He checked his uniform for any flagrant malfunctions, but he knew there weren’t any. Then he pulled the bolt back on his MA5B. All was in order there. He took the safety off the rifle and removed the clip. The ammunition was where it belonged, and so Simmons put it back in the receiver. The rifle in his hands was new. As a captain with the ODST’s, Simmons was entitled to a little customization. The barrel was a millimeter thicker for repeated fire without overheating, and about a centimeter longer for accuracy. This took a bit off the muzzle velocity, but the MA5B was a powerful weapon, so it didn’t bother Simmons. What he was really excited about was the 4x scope with a link to his drop helmet. The system was provided to him by the Good Doctor, who assured him it was the same system the Spartans were using. Simmons had asked to borrow a set of MJOLNIR armor, and she audibly laughed over the intercom. “Maybe in time.” She had said.
After the rough entry into the outer atmosphere the Pelican began to weave back and forth, not to evade fire, but to slow down. The rest of the ride was smooth, and some of the Marines had managed to sleep through reentry all the way until the pilot shouted over the ship’s COM, “Five minutes!” With that every one locked and loaded including Simmons, who rechecked his gear. Then he stood up and grabbed onto the handhold to the rear. “Get ready Marines.” He consulted his mission timer. “Thirty seconds!” In twenty-seven seconds, the Pelican touched the ground and in thirty, the ramp was open. As the light came in Simmons’ visor darkened automatically and he watched the last Marine leave. Then Simmons jumped down, his feet hit the ground and his mission began.
0549 Hours, December 19, 2525(Military Calendar)/ Titan colony Municipal Airfield
Simmons had been prepared to see civilians, but not two hundred and fifty thousand of them in one place. It was a tide of faceless human bodies. His jaw dropped, but luckily he was wearing his helmet, so no one could tell. In the next four hours the Marines had to make sure that every one of these people made it out alive without trampling each other. The colony police were maintaining order for now, but that could only last so long. As a load of civilians rushed past Simmons into the ship he had just exited, he remembered where he was and what he had to do.
“Charlie Company, report.” He said into his helmet.
“In position.” Puller flashed his acknowledgement light in Simmons’ visor.
“Thirty seconds to ground. On schedule boss.” Lt. Han tapped her light.
“On the ground and on way to the library as we speak boss.” Bailey signaled his light in turn.
“Omni?” Simmons whispered. Omni didn’t speak; he just hit the response button.
“All right then. 89th on me. Lets move.”
The City Library was about a mile and a half away, and in twenty minutes Simmons was saluting Major Mitchell. The command center the Marines had established was neat considering the library itself was a mess. Some particularly ambitious city official had decided that not only must every computer in the library be hit with axes, but all the books must be torn and thrown about the place as well. It was a shame to see so much knowledge ruined in the face of hysteria. No doubt ONI would be happy to see the results of their edict. Now, Simmons never considered himself an academic. That was Amacus’ realm, or more recently Dr. Halsey’s. But there was definitely something ironic about an office of intelligence ordering the destruction of a library.
In the ankle deep sea of pages lay what appeared to be the last book undamaged in the whole place. Simmons picked it up and audibly laughed. It was Sun Tzu’s The Art of War. The captain realized he needed to cover his amusement and put his hand to his mouth and forced a cough. The other officers glanced at him scornfully, and then returned to what they were doing. Simmons flipped through the book’s pages. Amacus had advised him to read it at the academy and the Marine Corps manual still recommended it after three thousand years, so it must be worthwhile. He slipped it into his right thigh pocket and headed to see the LTC.
The only remaining computers on the colony (hopefully) were the ones the Marines had brought with them for communications and command. The colonel was leaning on a table looking at a hologram of the city. He returned Simmons’s salute in a perfunctory fashion and grunted him into the room. “Welcome to the party Captain.” The old man’s voice was solemn and hardly audible. “Near as we can tell all the colony’s electronics are destroyed but ONI is not taking any chances. We are authorized to activate a ten-yield EMP detonator in the city center. Sadly this library is not the city center. Since every one else is busy and the Covenant have yet to show up I was wondering if you would mind.”
“Understood sir!” Simmons was eager to do something.
“The thing is in that crate over there. We’re giving you a nav point…now. Radio in and I’ll send you the activation code. Set it on remote detonation and forward the signal to Admiral Cole’s ship. They’re awaiting you’re call. Good luck.”