Gunnery Sergeant Tomas Garcia lied prone under the cover of a large tree, eyes glued to a pair of binoculars. His target for the day was an isolated hunting lodge in the middle of nowhere that, according to naval intelligence, was being used by Insurrectionists to hide the alleged mastermind of an infamous bombing in 2511. Whether or not the bomber was actually in the lodge, Delta-Seven had yet to determine.

By Garcia's own count, there were a total of six insurgents on security outside the lodge. One, a young kid who could barely keep his assault rifle up, patrolled the outer perimeter of the site with a vigilance. Three more were locked in conversation and stood guard outside the front. The fifth member of the security detail, who Garcia thought was old enough to be his father, was half asleep on watch by the back door. Finally, an especially tough looking man was scanning the treeline as he walked along the edge of the roof. Armed with the infamous .308 caliber "confetti maker" LMG, he was the only one that Tomas perceived as a serious threat.

What Garcia didn't know at the time was what to expect inside. All the windows had been covered up by wooden planks, and they didn't have enough time to properly surveil the location and get a better idea of what they were dealing with, so for all he knew there were twice as many guards inside armed to the teeth and just as tough as the last guy. He just hoped that this time his people could handle whatever it was. Calling in airstrikes felt like such a chore to him.

"Shitbird," he radioed Sergeant Desmond, Delta-Seven's sniper, "Take the motherfucker with the big gun on top first. Once he's down, Nurse Ramirez, Gerald and I are going to set up a base of fire. The rest of you idiots, move up and get in position to breach the cabin. And try not to die. I have enough paper work as it is."

Operation Mission Roster

Tomas "Red" Garcia, Gunnery Sergeant
Cyan McFarley, Sergeant
Desmond "Hawkeye" Knight, Sergeant
Edwin Ramirez, Lance Corporal
Oliver "Deadman" O'Hennessy, Lance Corporal
Marcus Gerald, Lance Corporal

Sergeant Cyan Mcfarley was sat close to the target building, underneath and behind a large bush, with leaves, grass and dirt piled onto her. This, combined with the fact that her matte-black armour blended with the shadow of the bush, made her quite camouflaged, and unable to be seen. She was close enough to the front to hear the conversation of the three on guard there if she had her audio boosted. From what she could tell, they were just grumbling about being outside. One of them complained that if they were gonna stand outside any longer, they were going to miss the game of grifball.

After a few more minutes of listening to them murmur and grumble, the Cyan heard the squad-leader speak over the squad-net, and clicked on her on radio to speak back. "Lead, Cyan. Ready to move in. If you signed paperwork for the Innies, I'm pretty sure your paper-days would be a lot worse," she says, smiling to herself, before tugging her BR55 against her chest. She was ready to move in at the sound of the first shot. "I'm gonna go for the front door. O'Hennessy, with me." She orders. She didn't want to go barging into a trio of Innies by herself, advantage of surprise or not, and she supposed taking the pointman with her was a better idea.

O'Hennessy was on the opposite side of the building to Sgt. Mcfarley, keeping his M45 Tactical shotgun close and chambered. It felt strange hiding in the brush like a psycho instead of a nice safe SWAT van waiting to be deployed in the mist of a shit-storm. Killing Insurrectionists in the big bad UNSC, like some nightmarish boggyman.

He watched as the kid with the automatic weapon passed his position, playing around with the he safety. O'Hennessey felt honestly bad for the kid, a child taken from his home to fight for some bastard hiding in relative sanctuary. The guy they were after was a top-tier scumbag. He didn't mind killing bombers, 'cause he set him own fate.

"Reading you loud and clear ma'am," O'Hennessy replied. "Can we honestly keep from killing the kid? I don't need that kinda universal karma bullshit on my back for the rest of my life."

"Oh yeah, call the guy with the big rifle a shitbird," Desmond said as he got into position. That was the best part about being a sniper. You didn't have to be right down in the middle of the fighting. He believed this was the best way to fight, take them before they take you. That doesn't mean that he doesn't get to know the person he kills. A Sniper's job is never easy, hunting targets, not even getting to interact with them. Desmond always gets to know his target by thier actions, and movements. Desmond finally got into position, laying down he placed his SRS99 Anti Material Rifle next to him. Desmond proceeded to load his magazine, and insert it into the weapon system. He always did that, Desmond never preloaded his magazines.

The reasoning behind that is that Desmond beleives that sniping is a personal matter, he wants the target to know that that built was meant for them. Desmond slid over to his rifle, peered into the scope, and lined up his target. His target was mid to late thirties, full mustache and goatee combo. About six foot tall, all bad ass. Desmond knew all that he needed to know. He lined up the shot, took a deep breath, and with the slightest amount of pressure to the trigger. The first shot had been fired, and the fight was beginning.

Ramirez scoffed as Gunny called him a nurse before he got into position near a tree and aimed his ma5 down range, judging who he was going to be firing at before Sgt Knight shot, he decided that decommissioning the kid would be the best way to go.

Although Ramirez hated the insurrectionist movement he wasn't going to kill a kid and to avoid the kid killing any of his comrades he decided that once the shooting started he would incapacitate the kid before turning his attention to the three men speaking out front.

Once Sgt Knight shot, he did just that, shooting the kid in the knee with his first shot before turning the gun on the three guards.

"Locked and loaded." He thought to himself, hiding behind a tree with a SMG on his chest plate, pouches swaying with ammunition and a large rocket launcher on his back. Marcus felt like a fool, carrying the big guns on a mission where they were hiding in the grass and bushes, behind trees and rocks. "Why even bring me along..." he muttered to himself, slowly peered at the distant lodge, hands wrapped tightly around his gun. It seemed like a nice lodge, even if it had men who'd be trying to kill him surrounding it, he felt some sort of deep guilt that it would be filled with bullet holes by the end of their objective. Or worse, "Don't let it be worse..." he added to his thoughts, giving a heavy breath to respond to the rising intensity.

He could feel it, the shot was soon, the gunny' had given orders, Marcus had to get ready. "Please don't let it be worse." he whispered to himself, the butt of his submachine gun soon kept against his right shoulder, aiming it in the direction of the lodge. "Please." The silence was taunting at this rate, placing a slow pointer finger on the trigger while giving a glare at the lodge. The gun's safety was off, he knew that, and it was fully loaded with a fresh clip. Now he could only hope it wouldn't jam on him when everything went hot. "Please." And with that last thought, there was the bang, and he squeezed the trigger.

Having thrown his binoculars aside for a suppressed variant of the M7, he had a gut feeling that the more spineless members of his team would spare the young insurgent. But he had seen too many of his buddies killed by kids to feel any kind of sympathy for him. So the moment that Desmond fired his shot, he dropped the kid with a short, controlled burst to the head. Then, he unloaded the rest of his magazine on the men standing post at the front door, tearing them to shreds with the team medic and heavy weapons specialist.

"Move in now!" Garcia shouted over the radio to O'Hennessy and Mcfarely while signaling to Ramirez that it was time to displace and move in through the rear. Marcus and Desmond, he decided, could stay behind in the event any hostiles that they were not previously aware arrived on the scene.

Jumping to his feet while slamming a fresh mag into his weapon, Garcia swung wide left as he approached the back entry point. In all the commotion however, he had lost sight of the lookout by the door. It wasn't until the old man leaned out of cover from the other side of the cabin and placed two rounds in his thigh that the team leader spotted him again. Garcia hit the deck hard and had to resist the urge to cry out in pain as the bullets cut through his flesh and became lodged inside him, instead forcing himself to block it out and using his SMG to return fire.

Apollo rolled his eyes, he'd been concealed behind the building he'd gone radio silent and been trying to get a read on how many idiots were inside and whether or not the target was. By the time he'd gotten his radio back on and heard the chatter the sniper let a round fly, he heard the kid squeal. He rolled out from behind the tree, the old guy was his target. Apollo was quick but the side he'd pick required some finesse throwing his assault rifle up he drew his bow and jumped grabbing the ledge he flipped over it.

Now many a person would laugh at soldier carrying a bow into combat, what they forget is that arrows are just as lethal as bullet and quieter. He turned the corner just in time to see Garcia take a chest full of lead from the old guy, Apollo had the string back in seconds the first arrow went threw the guys neck the second into his and the final pinned his arm to the wall before he could pump the shotgun. He walked over and offered Garcia a hand up the old man gurgled and gasped the shotgun laying between them. Apollo picked it up smiling. "Sorry I'm late to the party, I was trying to get angle on them so we could do this quiet like." He looked at Garcia. "I'm thinking breaching charges, its a bomber so the door is probably rigged." He told him, Apollo was an Ex-Spook after all he'd probably done this kinda job a dozen times before.

Cyan waited, her heart pumping rapidly, adrenaline pumping through her as she waited for the first shot. The shot that would decide when she was to move, to decide when she was to kill. And there it was. The explosion of a bullet leaving a barrel, the sight of a man falling. That was the signal, and she didn't need Garcia to order her to move in. She already knew to do that. She was a veteran at this stage.

"Move in!" Cyan radioed to O'Hennessy, before going guns-up and picking a shot at one of the innies guarding the door as the others engaged the rest. She heard the kid go down, and guessed that O'Hennessy may be a bit distressed at that, however she As she ran for the front door, many thoughts raced through her head. How many contacts would be inside? Would they be armed? Suddenly, a flicker of motion caught her vision. One of the innies that were downed at the door raised his gun, apparently just playing dead. Almost instantly, she tapped him with a single 9.5x40mm M634 Experimental High-Powered Semi-Armor-Piercing round, and he fell dead. Cyan then moved to the side of the entrance, signalling to O'Hennessy to breach.

Ramirez was aiming his rifle at the old man who shot gunny before the arrow hit his throat, startled at first, he looked around before noticing Apollo. He nodded to him before turning to the gunny and beginning to work on his leg, the bullets luckily went through his leg entirely so there was no need to dig anything out before the application of biofoam was made,but the wound was substantial just by looking at it Ramirez was surprised gunny didn't start screaming as soon as the rounds made contact.

"Gunny, you're going to be fine, but this is going to sting like a bitch." Ramirez said to Garcia before removing the bits of cloth that covered his thigh and applying Biofoam, after he applied the Biofoam he began to bandage the area just to add a little pressure to the leg so Garcia can move on his own regardless of the numbness he's going to feel in a second or two.

"Gunny, This shit wears off after a while, you should be fine until we get back to base,but you're gunna need to hit up the medbay just to make sure you can keep the leg." Ramirez says with a grin on his face before standing up and reloading his ma5,then extending a hand to help Garcia stand up.

At first, O'Henessy was ok. The kid was in the ground, moaning and screaming bloody murder. Hell of a round just ripped through his leg and may of taken the damn thing off. That he could live with. But then another shot rang out and before he knew it the kid was dead. Just gone in a flash of red.

He didn't know what to think. That was just blatant exicution. The kid was defenseless, crying for his mommy. He didn't know who did it, but at that moment he was ready to force feed someone their own shit and teeth. He did his best to calm down. O'Hennessy use to be part of a SWAT team. Different seemed to be that ODSTs can just murder on a whim.

Before making it to th door, he stood over the kid and watched as blood drained from two very new holes burned into his skull. This was fucked up beyond belief. The rat bastard inside better be worth a child's life. If not, O'Hennessy would try and drink this all away or punch one of his commanding officers. Either way, not a great night. Slowly, he made his way to the compound door and began placing breach charges.

"I don't care who just did that," he began, "but if I find out, I swear to whatever God is left that I'm going to put whoever just killed that fucking kid in the ground and piss on your grave! We're suppose to be the fucking good guys here. Insurgents kill kids, not goddamn ODST!"

With that, O'Hennessy stood back from the door and blew the charges. The resulting explosion was loud, rustling nearby grass and shattering the already boarded up windows. He could hear people past the smoke and now lit fire, so O'Hennessy aimed and began to pump round into the doorway. Several thuds hit the ground, along with the sounds of pained screams.

"Ok, now let's move in and politely stop performing child homocide..."

Garcia ignored O'Henessy and stared in disbelief at the seventh member of their team. He opened his mouth to say something to Apollo, but found himself speechless. "Just fucking get it done already." He eventually grunted to the ODST and helped himself up. Once on his feet, he began to limp towards Marcus and shouted, "If I can't be there to scare the living shit out of the bad guys, it's up to your big black ass to do the job for me! Leave your rocket launcher behind and go help the others."

Meanwhile, close to a half dozen charred bodies lied either burnt or bleeding out in the first room that had been breached. Beyond them was a spiral staircase that descended below the surface level, in addition to several other closed doors. At the same time, Delta-Seven was cutting it close. The entire region was considered hostile territory, heavily occupied by a wide assortment of terrorist groups. If they couldn't find their target soon, they were at a serious risk of fighting an overwhelming amount of reinforcements. To emphasis this, Garcia said over the team's communication channel "We needed this guy yesterday troopers. If you're not out of there with him in five, I'm having the zoomies level this fucking place with or without you in it."

Apollo nodded taking the shotgun he'd just picked up he sprinted around to where they had just breached. "I'm heading down, back me up." He told them as he walked down the steps keeping his eyes open he scanned the bottom of the steps. It was dark, air felt thick, might have bomb making materiel's down here so guns could send the whole the place up. As his helmet lights waved back and forth along the room he could see it maps of targets, half finished bombs, unstable chemicals. He heard movement along the far wall, advancing on it he drew his bow plucking an arrow from his quiver he waited. "Step out in to the light slowly." He ordered.

A child stepped, about ten or twelve he was wearing a backpack, a cord running out of the back. Apollo tensed for just a moment then suddenly he a sharp pan ran though his back, he gasped his bow fell from his hand. He turned kicked back behind him sending the attacker stumbling back, it was the bomber. The kid bolted up the stairs as bomber rushed at Apollo, he shoved the bomber drew an arrow from his quiver stabbing into the mans right shoulder he screamed. Apollo kicked him in the teeth to shut him up as clicked his comms on. "Kid running upstairs, he's wired with a bomb. I don't know if it's on a timer or remote. I've got my hands full with the target, also I could use a medic I've got knife jammed in my back." He grunted and picked up his bow placing it on his back.

He grinned and grabbed the asshole bomber by the collar crouching down. "Hey buddy." He took off his helmet smiling at the bomber. "Your going to tell me all about the bomb that kids carrying." The bomber looked away and Apollo grabbed the arrow and twisted. "Eyes on me sunshine." He said cheerful voice.

The bomber spat in Apollo's face, the Ex-spook just chuckled and pulled a pair of pliers from pack. "Every time I don't get an answer I'm going to rip a tooth out and make you swallow it. So, how disarm the bomb the kids carrying?"

The bomber squirmed trying to get away from the ODST. "It's set to explode in five minutes, well three minutes ago it was." The bomber gulped as Apollo put the pliers away.

Apollo stood up and smiled. "See we can all be friends, if your lying I'm going to saw your nuts off with an arrow." He clicked the comms on. "Kids got about a minute thirty before the timer expires and he goes up in smoke, grab him and ditch the pack." He told them then turned back ripping the arrow of the bombers shoulder he started up the stairs. "I'm coming up, bombers still alive. Were taking him in."

Cyan stepped into the room once the last shot had been fired, picking off the last few targets with triple coughs of the BR. She continued sweeping the room as Apollo entered and moved downstairs. "Room clear," She announced, her eyes looking to Apollo for a moment before breaking off, her face tinted a little red inside of her helmet. She was momentarily glad she had it polarized. Cyan was just away to start on the other rooms, starting to walk to a nearby door with her gun raised, when the sound of footsteps came rushing up the stairs, quite quickly. The ODST turned abruptly, gun raised, just in time to see a kid arrived. She saw the backpack, with the cord running out, and was away to call out a bomb when she heard Apollo saying to grab him and ditch the pack.

The kid saw her and ran as fast as he could for the door. Cyan immediately threw her rifle to the side and pushed off as hard as she could, lunging at the kid. She got him at the ankles, which was enough for her to pull back on, flipping him onto his stomach. "Come here!" She says, speaking the same language as the insurrectionists at the door had been, earlier. She tilts her head to the side to dodge a kick to the face, though it probably would have not done much anyways. O'Hennessy, you were annoyed at shooting the kid outside, but what about a kid blowing up? She thinks to herself, as she strips the backpack off of the kid. Cyan quickly sprinted to the door, throwing the pack outside, before running back to the kid whom was already trying to scramble away. She grabbed his hands, and pulled them open to see if he had any hidden weapons or detonators.

"Kid, do you have any bombs or weapons on you? Tell me, and your life will be a lot better for you, I swear." She says, once again in his language. He shakes his head, but Cyan searches him anyways, gently patting him over. She feels a round shape, and quickly withdraws a standard issue frag grenade. She places it on a special pouch on her armour, for her to look at later; It would be interesting to see where he had gotten it from. She withdrew a zip tie, and bound the kid's wrists. "Got the kid. Bound him up and got rid of the-" There was an explosion. "Yeah." Cyan switched from English back to the kid's language. "I'm going to ask you some questions, and you are going to answer them..."

Ramirez barely made it into the room before noticing Apollo and the knife lodged in his back, at just a glance it looked like it must of hurt like hell. "How the hell did you manage that Sarge?" Ramirez says half jokingly before going to look at the damage of the knife. The knife had done substantial damage to the Sgt,Surface wound was enough to know it would require serious medical attention. before Ramirez did anything he told the Sgt what was going to happen.

"BioFoam is going to hold you for now Sarge,but this is a serious injury,stick to the bow,shotgun will probably open up the injury and I only have so much Biofoam." After Ramirez said this he went back and grabbed the handle of the knife. "This is probably going to hurt." Ramirez said before counting down to three and pulling the knife out, quickly applying the biofoam and covering the area with bandages and medical tape. Ramirez then looked at the insurrectionist that was with the Sgt. He looked pretty beat up,bleeding from his right shoulder. Ramirez could only assume this was the guy that stabbed Sgt Apollo, Ramirez stepped closer to the man and punched the man in the stomach before ramming the butt of his ma5 to the mans head,effectively knocking him to the ground.

"Not enough Biofoam for that shitbird sarge." Ramirez says before moving into the building to assist in the clearing of the building.