Cath

Halo: Aegis Team

Tar turned her head sharply to look at the Human in grey armour and growled softly. They nearly had this rebel leader surrounded; there was no reason to give away prisoners now! She wondered if the earlier fall had taken its toll on their leader’s soft, squishy interior. The rest of this group of fighters still seemed resolute in their support though. It was almost amusing to think how differently this might have gone if it were a Sangheili-only team in this position.

After a moment of reluctance, Tar lowered her pistol from the hostage’s head. She pushed the Human forward, sending her sprawling forward onto the deck. “Run fast.” Tar warned them, looking down as they struggled dizzily back onto their knees and then to their feet. Gaining her bearings quickly, the rebel soldier staggered off towards the last dropships.

Tar quickly surveyed the environment again, then returned her gaze to the rebel Commander. Her arm and legs hurt from where bullets had hit them, but she resisted the urge to examine them with her fingers just yet. Things could still go either way here. Instead, she engulfed her captured pistol in both hands and held it ready.

The Cradle

As soon as the Builder felt the immense pressure on their armour, they knew what needed to be done. Initiating one final command, the back of their suit melted into the sea of base material around them. The stone underneath the Builder sucked them out of their suit just before it shut down.

After a couple of seconds, they fell out of the ceiling of the transport garage underneath the tower. The Builder curved elegantly through a backwards roll into a standing position on the floor. They studied the ceiling intensely with their dark brown eyes, scratching the short fuzz of hair on their head for a moment until they were satisfied it wasn’t about to change structure.

They looked around. The garage was divided between parking spaces for personal vehicles and an underground rail line. The Builder smiled when they recognised the hum of the train approaching the station. They set off at a sprint, padding barefoot towards the platform.

The Cradle

Even on the floor, all the Builder needed to do was twirl their index finger and tap their thumb. Before the Rothian could even pin down their gauntlet hand, the floor beneath the duo rose up and encased them. The block solidified in an instant, then sunk below the surface of the lobby.

Keeping their fingers free to move, the Builder mimicked the larger commands their body would make using just five digits. The material immediately surrounding their spear loosened just enough to move it. Slowly, carefully, the Builder began inching their weapon closer to Rhia’s waist area.

The Cradle

Having been unable to physically drag the screaming, armour-locked Dr Lang out of the car and into the street, the two ambushers moved to plan B. One produced a small spider of cables connected to a control box - once on her back it began forcing open interface ports to unlock her armour. “Get off me! Why are you doing this?!” Freyr wailed.

The other soldier pushed past Dr Lang to stop Dr Girard before they could exit the vehicle. They grabbed the back of the scientist’s armour, then took an under-charged shotgun pulse to the chest. They flew through the cabin and into the opposite wall of the car.

595 jumped over Girard’s prone form and through the open doorway straight away afterwards, holding the shotgun. The other soldier crashed forward and knocked the barrel away before the Agent could turn to them. The second pulse buzzed into the empty cockpit, starting an electrical fire. “Freyr run!” The Agent yelled before the soldier brutally kneed her in the stomach, eliciting an oof.

Running on pure adrenaline, Freyr unlocked her armour and scrambled over to Dr Girard. Legs danced around her as 595 wrestled for control of the shotgun with the hulking soldier. “Come on, put your helmet up. We’re leaving!” Freyr pleaded with her colleague, trying to pull her to her feet. A boot smacked into her visor, sending Freyr rolling over.

---

Osman slid down the wall-cover and onto the floor with the ambusher on top of her. They punched her visor twice, which flared her shields up. The Diplomatic droid grabbed the soldier in a headlock, and dragged them off of the Major. This couldn’t last though, as the Builder had gotten to their feet now. They twirled their spear, first cutting off an arm then the legs from the droid. A repair drone crashed into them, but quick as a flash they impaled the poor robot, frying their circuits.

This had given Osman time to grab her gun though. She fired it from the hip, still laying on the floor. The heavy energy bolts popped the Builder’s shield and scored a deep hole in their armour before they managed to flick their wrist. A fist burst from the floor beneath Osman’s behind, propelling her high into the air. She windmilled across the lobby, before landing close to the brawl developing by the newly crashed car.

The Cradle

Once again, their little composite team had made a tactical error through lack of communication. In the chaos, they’d left the probable target of this ambush alone and unprotected, and now they were under threat. I should’ve left her my pistol at least! What a fucking mess. 595 thought to herself as she sprinted the short distance back towards the upturned car. Her shield had taken a couple of hits, but otherwise she was in fighting shape.

As she got closer, 595 could see a struggle unfolding in the middle of the vehicle. Dr Girard was crawling towards the lobby door, and Freyr was being dragged towards the street door. 595 could see she was holding onto one of the seats for dear life, so entered the fray at top speed.

---

The Agent’s distraction worked. Both of the soldiers accompanying the Builder turned to confront the surprise rush of robots from behind. They fired full-power into the throng, shredding one of the diplomatic droids. The others remained operational though - while not outfitted for combat, these machines were built to last. The small floating maintenance drones crashed into each soldier at speed, putting them off balance.

The Builder remained entirely focused on Vreta from behind cover, trusting the troops to hold other threats at bay. It was becoming clear to them that the Rothian was too quick to be crushed, so they changed tack. The Builder held up one finger on their haloed hand and twirled it around a few times. A large whirlpool opened up immediately underneath Vreta’s feet, with the floor material taking on a sticky liquid form. Mid-stride, the big lizard promptly sank beneath the surface. The Builder clenched their command fist, and the surface solidified again.

There was a gigantic crash as one of the other CraSec armoured cars reversed through the glass-mesh near the corner of the lobby. Two of the ambushers clung to the sides, and another one flew off of the roof as it crashed into a pillar.

The Builder turned to investigate the commotion, and found a CraSec Major standing directly in front of them. Osman turned around the side of the artificial wall and smacked the Builder in the face with the butt of her gun. They overbalanced, caught completely off-guard.

Osman levelled her rifle at them and started firing point blank, but was shoulder-barged into the wall cover by an attendant soldier before she could break through their shield. A diplomatic droid and maintenance drone swiftly followed, battering the soldier with bumpers and fists.

The Cradle

Near-silent until now, the elevator doors behind the enemy position pinged open. Two silver Diplomatic Corps droids and two orange maintenance drones burst out. "YOU HAVE BEEN DEEMED HAZARDOUS - WILL YOU COMPLY?" They chanted. The machines did not wait for an answer; they surged forward, with one of each heading for the lone soldier and the Builder.

Back in the upside-down car, Freyr pressed a cold pack against Dr Girard’s broken nose, eliciting a shrill cry from her subordinate. “Shhh.” She soothed, before promptly shrieking too. The stubby snout of a gun poked through the street-side door, followed by the hands, arms and visor of another ambusher. The person looked at both of them - Freyr raised a hand out. “Don’t hurt us, please!” They clambered in. Freyr lashed out with her foot, trying to knock them back out again. The soldier grabbed her leg.

“HELLLPP!”

595’s exited her deep-HUD now her slaved drones were locked to targets. Her head snapped back to look at the crashed vehicle. She had to make a snap-decision between following through on her plan and supporting the Rothian, or protecting her mark. After a split-second, the Agent looked at Osman, who had just dropped a spent fuel cell out from underneath her rifle. “Help Vreta!” 595 commanded. Osman nodded, clicking another cell into place.

The Major popped out from behind the destroyed fountain, firing targeted bursts. 595 burst out of cover, running back towards the car. Plasma fire followed her for a second, before the soldier had to hide from Osman’s covering fire.

The Builder intently watched Vreta's run for a moment, then dragged the tip of one boot forward along the floor, ending in a low kick. A wave of grey emerged from the floor, carrying all the furniture with it as it moved towards the Rothian. It reached two thirds of the way to the ceiling, and covered half the room. Osman swore and scrambled out from behind the fountain, moving over to the right before crashing in behind a low sofa. She popped back out again promptly to continue firing. Vreta though, was still squarely in the way.

The Cradle

595 took advantage of the pinpoint covering fire from their Rothian attaché to rush forward. Osman, still holding the back of her armour, followed suit, firing on full-auto. They pushed comfortable, stylish chairs out of the way and made it to a low water feature before their portable cover collapsed like wet cardboard under the second soldier’s suppressing fire. They crashed into a prone position behind the fountain.

“We have got to move!” Osman shouted. “I have a plan! Just give me a few seconds!” 595 called back, accessing her deep-HUD. Osman fired over the top of the fountain, laying on her back. Returning plasma flicked chunks of super-heated masonry all over her.

The first soldier that Vreta fired at ducked down in a blur, with just one shot hitting the target. They turned and placed one hand on the Builder’s chest. Both shields glowed brightly, with extra capacity being lent to the leader instead of the footsoldier. The Builder stood up slowly, then quickly peered through the gap and punched the air.

A fist of the same grey alloy shot from the floor under Vreta’s feet, seeking to pound him into ceiling.

At the same time, two more ambushers approached the street-side of the truck. They were much more cautious now - well aware of what the Rothian’s weapon could do. The bodies of their comrades lay steaming on the road outside the sawed-off door.

The Cradle

More of the ambushers out in the street heard the buzz of overclocked Rothian weaponry, and turned to their fallen comrades. Most of the CraSec convoy was blocked in and being torn to pieces by rail guns from up high and energy weapons all around. One of the tanks was destroyed; the other span in circles and fired randomly into the buildings surrounding them.

The order came in to secure the target, so half a dozen of them peeled off and approached the tower. Some got shots on the armoured Rothian before they disappeared back inside the vehicle.

595 heard Vreta shout, just as the ambushers zeroed in on her with their heavy repeaters. Her shield in danger of failing, the Agent picked up the armoured car door which she’d cut through moments before and crouched behind it. There wasn’t much cover in this massive lobby, with just a dozen pillars around the edge, an assortment of sofas and tables, and a high desk on the other side to hide behind. The three assailants had stepped brazenly forward, occupying a commanding position on their side of the lobby.

595 felt Osman’s gloved hand on the top of her back, as the Major crouched behind her portable cover. “Get ready to move when we say, Dr Lang!” Osman called, before standing up to shoot over the top of the door. 595 shuffled forward a couple of steps and shot round the side with her pistol.

The spear-wielding person in the middle of the opposing trio held their haloed hand out in front. They quickly rotated their wrist back and forth, thumb and index pads touching. Sheets of slick grey material with a slot near the top burst from the floor in front of the two soldiers. They raised their guns again and shot through the slots.

The gilt-armoured leader then pointed at the pillar from behind which the Corporal was shooting. They clenched their fist, and the pillar burst into a thousand artifacting fragments, leaving the CraSec soldier exposed.

The Corporal made a run for the next pillar along, but never made it. The mysterious warrior threw their spear with such force that it flew almost too quick for the naked eye to process. It pierced the Corporal's chest, came out the other side and made a hole in the mesh-glass behind. He fell to his knees, then collapsed forward without a word. 595 watched with gritted teeth as the spear slowly digi-structed back in the person’s hand, growing from both ends. That’s not good.

"They're a Builder! Focus their gauntlet!" She called over comms, aiming carefully at the blue halo. The person walked calmly behind the nearest cover wall, while the soldiers carried on blanketing them with plasma.

The Cradle

595 nodded thanks to Vreta for his plasma sword. She turned towards the door, pointed it at one of the hinges and activated it. A rippling orange blade extended out, white-hot at the cutting edge. It comfortably sliced through the metal, so 595 pushed further, puncturing the glass mesh on the other side. The building was already trying to return to its original state, so 595 delivered a series of savage kicks to the door, sending it crashing through the window.

“Thanks.” Osman muttered as Vreta freed her foot. She gave it an experimental twirl. Satisfied, she looked at her subordinate. “Corporal, clear the hole. We’ll be right behind you. Agent, take them.” The Major hefted her gun, collapsing the stock so it was more manageable in tight spaces. The assailants who were now trying to saw through the back door started shooting at the other windows. The energy bolts beat the side of the car like a drum. “Go!”

“Tangier One, what is your status, over?” GCHQ crackled over comms. “We’re UNDER ATTACK!” Osman shouted. “Column is immobile - requesting IMMEDIATE support, OVER!”

595 let the Corporal squeeze past her, out of the vehicle and into the lobby. She crawled round so she could see the two scientists in the back. The Agent cleared her throat and assumed her soothing voice. “Hey guys. We’re gonna get you out of here, alright?”

Freyr, who was still upside down, nodded furiously. 595 came forward and helped her undo the seatbelt. She crashed to the ceiling of the vehicle, and untidily tried to barge past 595 into the middle. “No, we need Dr Girard too, remember?” The Agent pointed at the other scientist, who was staring groggily around, covered in blood while the saw cut a bright line around the door behind her. “Vreta wants to get in there, so let's get her down shall we?”

“Y-yeah, sorry.” Freyr stuttered, grabbing one of Girard’s shoulders. 595 put the researcher’s helmet up, then freed her. Together, they managed her safely down to the floor, then 595 dragged her out of the way so Vreta could get into position. “Dr Girard, are you with us? Do you have any dizziness? Can you follow my finger?” 595 looked at Freyr after a few seconds. “She might have a concussion - you’re going to need to hold onto her for a little while. Can you do that for me?”

“I..uh...suppose i could…”

“Good. Let's get her out of this vehicle to start with. One, two, aaand over.”

They dragged Dr Girard through the freed up middle hatch into the lobby of this building, just when a shower of glass exploded in from the side street entrance. “Hostiles!” The Corporal yelled, opening fire from behind a pillar.

Freyr screamed. 595 swore, and chucked Girard back on top of Freyr. Both of the scientists tumbled back into the car. The Agent turned, unholstered her pistol and fired on full auto at the trio of armoured figures pushing into the lobby. From what she could tell, two of them were in the same kind of armour as the ones outside. The other one though, was different. The armour was more ornate, ceremonial even. The main thing which concerned the Agent right now though, was the bright blue pointed spear in their left hand. A bright halo ringed their right.

On the street side, the ejected door sent the saw-wielder clattering to the floor. The gunslinger standing opposite the middle door unclipped a flashbang from their belt and chucked it into the backseat. The third dashed across to take up a position at the back of the car, giving them line of sight down the length of the vehicle. They fired aggressively into the car as they went, while the first soldier scrambled to their feet, shield lighting up.

The Cradle

“Mudda FOCKER.” Dr Girard gurgled, shaking hands moving to gently feel her face. Blood dripped out of her broken nose onto her forehead, and from there, the ceiling of the car. “My nozsch.” Girard slurred, poking herself. “Don’t touch it!” Freyr shouted. “We need ice, does anyone have ice?” She looked around the cabin frantically, searching for ice while still upside down.

595 unclipped her seatbelt and somehow managed to land the right way up in this cramped space. She wiped some of the debris off the window on her side and peered through. Heavy weapons-fire echoed through the street. A deafening explosion went off nearby, and for a brief moment the inside of their vehicle was brightly lit up. “I’m good. Osman, I need a proper weapon.”

“Shotgun in the box above your headrest. My leg is stuck…” The Major grunted, trying to free herself. “I’ll help you! Hold still.” The Corporal who had been driving offered, unclipping his seatbelt and crashing to the ceiling. Their car radio started up again, revealing a cacophony of shouts and battle instructions.

595 broke open a lockbox at her feet and pulled out a little cube that began unfolding into a weapon. The Agent grabbed a couple of spare energy cells too and attached them to her chest.

Freyr shrieked, pointing. “There are people out there! They’re coming this way! GET ME OUT OF HERE!” Her breath came out fast and ragged, and Freyr found she was struggling to speak anymore. As she watched, three figures stepped through the smoke and haze of the battle. Energy rounds fizzed all around them, but they stayed focused on the vehicle. One had some kind of buzz saw.