Cath

The Cradle

The virus reported back instantaneously upon release. 595 stopped firing and dedicated most of her processing power to understanding the request. She was still vaguely away of the battle unfolding in front of her, but it seemed to slow down. ”Quick - release me; this one requires full control.” The virus whispered in her mind. The Agent’s HUD helpfully painted a dozen thin black helixes winding between her helmet and nodes out in the field, which then wrapped around Vreta. These connections all gyrated impatiently in the air. “SCRIVENER-FUJIKAWA CONTROLS MUST NOT BE RELINQUISHED.” a synthetic warning blared.

595 quickly analysed some of the data the virus was feeding back. Vreta’s internal defences were already going up, and she only had a vanishingly small amount of time to upgrade her attack. The Agent could see Vreta, and he was just standing in place. That wasn’t enough for her; she wanted to see him flat on the floor. Normally she wouldn’t even consider an action like this, but she’d felt an odd affinity with the viruses in her arsenal recently that hadn’t been there before. She felt more comfortable with controlling it personally, and even relished the challenge.

“Alright. But just remember you belong to me.”The Agent overrode the lab controls, and instead assumed direct control. A new, totally alien strand surged through the slaved network, fully intent on Vreta. 595 drew in a sharp breath as some of the readings washed over her. She instantly felt a pull on all her personal control over the virus, like it was straining at the leash, dragging her along. It was a hundred times more complex, yet somehow felt familiar.

However, it never reached Vreta. A deafeningly loud klaxon sounded inside the simulation room; red lights flashed. The black helix lines in 595’s HUD went taut, then whipped back towards her as every piece of Human hardware inside the room, apart from her, powered down. Every detail of the simulation bled away, leaving clear white contours that’d raised from the floor to form the cover and buildings. Some of these too began lowering back into the floor, leaving the participants staring about, confused.

595 gasped as the virus rushed back into its box in the back of her head and hid.

“Stand down! Simulation ends.” A human coordinator shouted from the control pod.

The Cradle

595 directed her sensory suite to find and mark key members of the opposing team in her HUD. She found Vreta near the centre, cloaked in a corona of fire from an explosive charge. The Varangian she’d seen on the bridge before was rushing Thebes. Athena had just respawned and Knossos was close to doing the same.

So far, the Agent had spent most of the battle on defence. She’d abused her state of the art and highly classified set of tools to corrode the other team’s capability to fight effectively. A series of malfunctioning weapons, IFF tags and communications pathways had insidiously tilted the balance in favour of the cornered Red Team.

Her carefully applied active camouflage hadn’t worked as well as she’d hope, though. This was when 595 had come to suspect that the Barb’s Rothian guest was providing some kind of force multiplier; the other team was too accurate as to be natural.

So, 595 had made her way hastily forward once her work had been done in the smoke. She didn’t harass the retreating Blue Team - she was focused on just a single target. It was time to go on offense.

Looking downrange, and piggybacking as many combat suit nodes as she could, the Agent assaulted Vreta’s implants with a Grade 5 Cradle-Scrivener-Fujikawa virus. If left unattended, it would shut down all implants and paralyse him until recalled. It was an incredibly dangerous virus, normally reserved for dismantling entire battalions, but 595 was a competitive individual.

She was confident Vreta wouldn’t be able to resist a black site cyber attack and co-ordinate his troops at the same time. Biting her bottom lip with a gleeful grin, 595 began shooting at the retreating Blue Team vanguard. They were getting close to falling on top of Thebes, who had enough to worry about.

---

Thebes scrambled away from the grenade like a Human cockroach, but couldn’t avoid being flattened against the rubble beneath him by the concussive blast. He flipped onto his back, just as Kjartan vaulted over the barricade Thebes had been hiding behind. The Norse absorbed a few shots from the Team Leader’s rapid-fire pistol before savagely bringing his hammer down towards his chest. Thebes rolled away and tried to get up. Kjartan was quick to retrieve his hammer from where it was buried in the ground and jab him in the ribs, sending Thebes flying into the side of a flier. Kjartan stalked forward, laughing maniacally.

The Cradle

Thebes crouched behind a barricade and peeked over. “They’re moving! Saddam, drone the Rothian. I’ll handle out the Norse.” Right now, Thebes was sitting in the middle of a storm. Energy was fizzing around his location from behind, above and now, in front too. Thanks to his impeccable choice of cover, they wouldn’t be able to focus him as long as he stayed low. But that wouldn’t last long, with soldiers advancing on his position behind.

Thebes unclipped a drone bomb, like the one Knossos and Saddam both carried too. It was flat and square, larger than a regular grenade. He identified Kjartan’s silhouette and locked that in. He then chucked the drone up into the air, and it sprouted appendages before flying at the towering figure making his way towards him.

Saddam did the same from behind cover up in the apartment block. He locked in Vreta’s distinctive shape before chucking his drone out of the window. He wanted to address the Blue Team soldiers above him, but also couldn’t leave Thebes out there by himself. Saddam emerged from cover. Free from Vreta’s accurate DMR fire, he began devastating the shields of the three marines suppressing his position with laser-focused bursts.

Kjartan saw the danger coming this time. He levelled his square shield at the last moment; it expanded to arch over the top of his head and down to the floor. Kjartan dug his heels in and roared in defiance and the explosive pad connected with the front of his shield and emitted a massive explosion. A billowing cloudfront of fire burst out in all directions, connecting with another fireball from Saddam’s drone.

Kjartan emerged from the explosion with blackened shields, otherwise unharmed. He broke into a run toward Thebes, shield reverting back to its regular form. Thebes started shooting, which in turn put him in the firing line, particularly from behind and up top. However the Blue Team’s forward line had just been broken, forcing the soldiers pursuing Thebes to turn and fight a tactical retreat or risk being overrun.

“Agent, report.” Thebes grunted, trying to burst Kjartan’s shields in the last few seconds before he’d need to face him. “They’re falling back.” She huffed, bursting through the smoke covering the Red Team’s third. She’d taken one of the Blue team’s assault weapons, as hers had been lost upon her first death. “Most of us are down to our last life.” 595 ducked behind cover when energy splattered across her shield.

Halo: Aegis Team

The Brute Chieftain recoiled under the barrage of shotgun shells, but possessed the presence of mind to raise the bulky armour plate attached to his left arm. It absorbed some of the impact, shattering to pieces.

The Chieftain issued a guttural, gurgling roar. He raised his hammer off the floor, jabbing it straight out in front of him at Aviza before lurching round and swinging it in a wide, brutal arc at Yalu as he rushed in from behind. The Elite’s battlecry had obviously alerted the Chieftain to the danger.

Tar sprung to her feet with Aviza’s interrupted help. She dodged the Chieftain’s savage jab, aided by the fact she wasn’t the principal target. As soon as the Brute turned his back to pound Yalu, Tar jumped forward and clambered up his back. She reached for her holstered energy sword, intent on ramming it through a chink in the Brute’s neck armour.

Before she could, the Chieftain’s head jerked backwards in a panicked motion; his helmet smashed into her face. One of Tar’s feet slipped, and she was forced to quickly put both hands back on the Brute’s armour to avoid falling off and being trampled. She tried to grab her sword again.

The Cradle

A few of the Red Team soldiers hanging back from the melee unfolding around the Blue Team spawn pivoted to fire on the silhouette of Thebes as he broke through their line. He zig zagged through the urban hellscape, taking a couple of hits but continuing on at top speed. The Marines were all committed to extracting the enemy flag, but the corporal closest to the rearguard ordered a few soldiers to follow her after the Sacred Band leader.

“Copy.” Athena confirmed, emerging from behind the car she’d been sheltering behind. She shouldered her railgun; it shortened in her hands to increase maneuverability at shorter range. Carthage dropped her shield and broke into a run when she spotted Athena looking at her, but she couldn’t prevent the sniper from putting a round right through her. Athena took multiple hits from Saddam before he hid from Vreta’s DMR. Unfortunately, this was enough to allow the last marine on the ground floor to pop up and finish her shields and kill her off.

Fire from the drop troops taking up positions around the spawn forced them back into cover, but more Blue Team fighters began shooting down from the top accessible floor; they must have concluded their firefight up there.

Carthage’s last grenade went off among a cluster of the troopers, spraying masonry everywhere.

“Red Team flag dropped.” The announcer intoned. The Marine chatter at the other end of the arena reached a crescendo.

“She was mine!” Carthage yelled groggily, as Carthage floated away. He staggered through the field, energy bouncing off his shield. “THEBES!” He bellowed, levelling his hammer at the operator when he spotted Thebes advancing towards them.

The Cradle

Carthage dived back inside the apartment building, taking a DMR hit. The bus exploded in a huge fireball that swept the spawn, setting everything ablaze. Kjartan was propelled into the air on a shockwave of superheated air. Saddam briefly ducked down when the rest of the window panes in his room shattered, then got back up and resumed suppressing Athena and Vreta as best he could.

Kjartan landed on his head and immediately struggled to his feet, using his hammer as a crutch. His vision was blurry and the sounds and movements around him were flourishing at a languid, sluggish pace. He saw Carthage emerge from the apartment building in slow motion, smoke curling around her armour from the corridor. She tore the heavy metal fire door off its hinges and advanced with it held in front of her. She chucked a lethal grenade over the top, followed by a smoke grenade.

“The Blue Team have picked up the Red Team flag.” An androgynous announcer confirmed over comms. The baseline of team comms on the Blue Team erupted into excited, stressed chattering. Half a dozen voices began shouting at once, one of which was Knossos. “I can’t contain him, RTB.” Just then, Thebes completed his armlock and simulated breaking Knossos’ neck. The shield wrapped around the veteran soldier prevented any damage, but acknowledged him as KIA.

Thebes got up and glanced urgently between both ends of the arena. At one end, the bulk of his team were engaged in bitter close quarters battle around their spawn, shrouded in smoke. At the opposite end, they were close to taking the objective. It didn’t take long to make his decision - Thebes stuck to the plan and ran toward the Blue Team end, weaving through cover and shooting with calm precision.

The Cradle

Athena gritted her teeth. She’d been watching the cloud of smoke enveloping Knossos and Thebes fighting it out, but couldn’t find a clear shot. Thebes was mindful to always keep Knossos between him and Athena’s line of fire. She could hear the staccato coughs of pistol fire from somewhere behind the flier. The Blue Team was making significant ground off the back of Vreta’s smokescreen tactic, meaning the two duelling operators had been largely left behind by the rest of the Marines.

“I’ll have to change positions to fire inside. Keep me covered.” Athena got up and began running across the street, just when gunfire erupted from apartments on the ground floor. She was hit half a dozen times in a second, and her shield nearly broke. She dived onto the floor, crawling behind a flier. The rest of the drop troopers who’d been killed inside the apartment building floated past her.

“Alright. I go win this.” Kjartan begrudgingly boomed. He started to run down the length of the bus, shielding himself from energy fire. But he screeched to a stop when someone shouted over the din of shooting. “Hey, big man!” He turned, and saw Carthage on the steps by fire exit into the apartments. She held her extensible launcher in her hands, pointed straight at him. Kjartan only had time to bellow the first syllable of her name before a high-explosive rocket fizzed past him and into the bus.

The Cradle

Carthage jetted sideways out of sight to avoid a hail of energy from the two standing drop troopers. They themselves were taking fire from the other team trapped in the opposite corridor, so they rushed after Carthage. She was blocking their escape, and right now they were trapped in a bad spot - they figured they could go on offense and shoot their way out.

One of them chucked a grenade through the ragged hole Kjartan had made, to hold off the Marines pushing forward on their six. Then they grabbed their squad leader off the floor and exited out of the other hole Kjartan made, into the corridor heading back toward their spawn.

Carthage wasn’t visible in the corridor, but she exploded back at them from the entrance to another apartment further down the hall. She knocked the gun of the leading trooper up in the air - he sprayed the ceiling with plasma. What followed was an incomprehensible flurry of jabs, kicks and momentum based control. Carthage twirled her shotgun with inhuman precision to beat all three soldiers to the floor and then finish them at point-blank range.

The two remaining Red Team marines from her initial push jogged down the corridor towards her just as the last body began floating away. Carthage’s visor peeled back when she looked at them, making them flinch. “Come. Let’s end this.” She looked up at the ceiling, where she could hear pounding feet. “Saddam, report.”

“My floor is clear. The top floor is having some issues.” Carthage nodded to herself as they headed down the darkly lit corridor for a patch of light at the end. “Good enough. Take a window, keep them occupied.”

“Copy that.”

---

“I know this! But they are on all floors now. I was held from above, see? They take these windows, fire down on battlefield - I can survive, but who else? Not enough cover to fight on two fronts.” Kjartan motioned to the rows of windows looking out on the street with his hammer. As if on cue, energy bolts began raining down on them from one of the closest windows on the middle floor. Kjartan hid behind his shield and edged into cover beside Vreta. "See!?"

The Cradle

Knossos made it to the other side of the flier and took cover briefly. Stray energy bolts fizzed through the smoke. He looked through one of the holes in the vehicle and saw Thebes’ visor staring back at him. Knossos shot through the hole, fully expecting to miss, before sprinting along the length of the vehicle, On this side there was less chance of him getting shot by accident through the smoke.

Keeping his rifle just below his eyeline, Knossos skirted around the other side of the flier. The smoke was visually impenetrable, but a marker did allow him half a second to shoot before Thebes crashed into him. They clattered to the floor with the Sacred Band’s leader on top. He punched Knossos twice in the visor before he slithered free and they rolled through the rubble.

---

Kjartan surged forward as soon as his shield dropped him delicately on his feet in spawn and returned to active mode. He approached Vreta, standing in the open with his arm-shield raised. “The Witch is free now - we must stop her. How goes it here? I can take men?” He seemed to have calmed down marginally on his trip back to spawn, without losing the bloodthirsty look in his eyes.

The Cradle

The response to Vreta from inside the building was a burst of static and a few half words. “Is Saddam inside?” Athena asked. “Likely. Moving!” Knossos called, fast-crawling toward the crashed flier behind cover. Soldiers on both sides were in a pitched battle now, with energy rounds flying across No Man’s Land. Thebes was still co-ordinating from the front, spraying plasma down range at Athena and Vreta.

Knossos unclipped a smoke scrambler and lobbed it by the edge of the flier pointing back toward Thebes’ own spawn. It exploded in a large puff of smoke, covering most of the vehicle and also providing cover for Knossos’ approach. The veteran soldier tapped the Marine sergeant on the back of the helmet and pointed. “Moving left! Give me cover!” The other man nodded and relayed the order down the line.

Knossos wasted no time getting up from behind cover and sprinting toward the smoke, drawing fire from all angles.

---

The drop troopers supporting Kjartan’s ill-fated push into the apartment building had stacked up around the hole he’d made in the wall. They’d caught the opposite team in a bad spot with sparse cover, and had wasted two of them in the corridor almost immediately. The other two had smashed through into adjacent apartments and were firing doggedly from the doorways.

Unfortunately, they were so preoccupied with trying to stamp out the other Marines that they missed Carthage emerging from the ruined remains of her fight with Kjartan. They missed their opportunity to suppress her position, and only returned fire when she was halfway across the fire-stricken lobby.

Vreta ordered a retreat right when she found them. “We could use some support! Oh, shit. Contact left!” The squad leader shouted as Carthage sprayed the opening with energy. She changed weapon and disappeared from view before bursting through a nearby fire door, ripping it off its hinges as she did so.

She absorbed a few panicked energy bursts from the closest trooper with the loose door before sending him flying with a blast from her freshly-retrieved shotgun. She then pivoted and blocked the butt of another soldier’s gun from smashing her visor.

Carthage flicked the weapon out of his hands, discarding it on the floor and bending his arm the wrong way when he tried to punch her. He screamed as she flung him straight into the squad leader who had started unloading his rifle at her while shouting orders. They both clattered into a wall.