Out Of Shape

A piercing gale blew through the streets of what was left of New Alexandria, but Owain-B176 didn't feel it. His armour looked old and worn, but it still worked well enough to keep the elements out. Well enough for ONI to send him back here too, apparently.
His motion tracker blinked, two targets showing up in the remains of a tower to the south, but they only lasted a second before having a message pop up over the top of it.
"EVACUATION ZONE: FIVE KILOMETERS NORTH." As he had gotten further into the city, its malfunctioning Superintendent had begun to send him alerts, directing him to assist evacuation efforts at the spaceport. He pitied it. Its city was rubble and all those it was made to look after were dead or long-gone; yet it still kept going through the motions, not realising how it had already failed. 
If there were any parallels to be drawn he made a point of ignoring them.
His path took him towards a locked road gate, and one that repeatedly rejected his access codes. They were valid, he knew they were - and he knew that he was being actively locked out. Pity slowly turned to frustration as the gate stubbornly refused to open. 
"It'd save us both a lot of time if you'd cooperate." 
"EVACUATION ZONE: FIVE KILOMETERS NORTH." This time the AI's alert was broadcast directly into his COM as if directly in reply to him, catching him by surprise. His brow furrowed beneath his visor as he muted the Superintendent's radio signal and glanced around for another way past. He didn't want to smash his way through the barrier if he could help it, and soon his eyes were drawn to the wrecked frontage of what was once a dental clinic, a single entryway beneath a dead sign.
It seemed no sooner had he stepped through the shattered glass door pane that rain started to fall - both down from open sky to the streets outside, and through the hole that some munition or other had punched through the floors above him. He gingerly stepped around the crater it had left behind in the ground below, before heading over to the emergency staircase.
He had a long climb ahead of him.
-----
Every so often as he climbed the building would creak. Maybe its compromised frame was unused to the massive weight of a MJOLNIR-clad Spartan; maybe it was simply movement from the wind's buffeting. Either way, it was the only sound accompanying him on the way up.
The furthest he got was the thirty-fifth floor. Debris blocked the stairwell beyond that point; the crumpled nanolaminate shape was probably once a Banshee, but now all that it was was an obstruction. Making his way over to the windows, he gazed back down at the street below, squinting through sandblasted glass trying to make out his path and the barrier he needed to pass. 
There. If he could get to the next building across, that would do it.
A brief handful of mental calculations said that he should be able to jump the gap - well, guesstimates really, but they would have to do. Backing away from the window, he slung the machinegun he carried across his back, before clearing a path across the length of the floor. He closed his eyes for a moment, before taking a breath and running at full sprint towards the reinforced glass. His footsteps thundered through the building's frame, his blood pounding in his ears, the glass shattering as he punched through it and sailed over the gap between the buildings-
-and slammed into the floor of the building opposite, a dozen stories down. The impact was harder, heavier than Owain thought it would be, and before he had a chance to haul himself to his feet the floor gave way beneath him. Debris from the floor and wrecked furniture tumbled down around him, but after a moment the clatter of falling panelling giving way to a panicked chattering in an alien tongue. 
Jackals.
Half of his body was still pinned beneath debris, but his right arm was free - he drew his Magnum and lined up a pair of shots at the targets across the room from him. They were straightforward shots, but when he squeezed the trigger twice neither one hit their mark - and the element of surprise was wearing off fast. The two Jackals barely got to fumble for their shield gauntlets before Owain emptied the rest of the magazine into them, both aliens dropping to the floor immediately.
Owain relaxed his right arm, letting the pistol drop to the floor. He cursed. He knew he shouldn't be this angry - he had done better half-buried in rubble than he had managed on a practice range only days before. But still, taking a whole magazine to drop two targets still made him feel like a joke.
"Beta one-seven-six, this is Gamma oh-five-five, what's your status?" His musing was interrupted by the voice piped down from orbit through his COM. Hari. His handler. "I've got telemetry that reads shots fired." 
"Two Jackals encountered, both eliminated. Unclear how heavy any further opposition presence is." Owain groaned as he pushed the remaining debris from him and reholstered his sidearm, picking his machinegun from the floor.
"Understood." Then, with more concern to her voice, "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." The pause after his statement was a little longer than either party expected.
"We'll keep an eye out from here, but there's going to be another dust storm moving in overnight, and it'll probably mess with COM again. Stay safe. Gamma oh-five-five out." 
Owain scowled. She could have made those shots, of course - hell, she probably could've made them in her sleep. He wasn't sure if he was frustrated with the fact that he was being babysat by a Spartan far his junior - or if it was the fact that he needed to be. 
He did his best to push the thoughts from his head as he made his way to the other side of the building, looking down at the road ahead. Empty. So the pair he killed were just an outlying patrol. That was a blessing, at least; he had no illusions about his ability to take on any kind of significant force on his own. Or anything more than two Jackals, really, was the whispered follow-up in his mind.
"Beta one-seven-six?"
"I hear you."
Hari's voice was business again. "Cry for Spring Actual says they have picked up a number of dropships to the North of your AO. They're holding position at the moment, but situation remains fluid. Expedite to objective. Will minimise COM chatter to control your signature."
Owain sighed, turning away from the window and back towards the stairs. Behind him, the shattered remains of the Olympic Tower loomed over the skeleton of New Alexandria.
"Acknowledged. One-seven-six out."
Category:Tooth and Blade