2'It's been years since I've ran a simulation, Mit- I mean, Commander.' Indiana protested. Michigan led him towards the Pelican's cockpit, where Wisconsin and Nebraska were loading their weapons into the blood tray.
'You're going to have to remember, then. We don't have time to screw around. For all we know, the Innies could be there already!'
Indiana sat down in the cockpit and started up the engines. The Pelican whined into life, preparing to drop from its clamp into space. The dropship sank into space, and then detached. It fell, and Indiana balanced the engines to accelerate towards the impossibly far security station.
'Commander, how do you want to play this?' Nebraska asked from the blood tray.
Michigan left the co-pilot's seat, and walked through the door. He turned to Nebraska and Wisconsin.
'I've had the liberty of upgrading our ride's systems. This bird has an experimental energy shield. We should be able to stave off a few attacks.'
'Could they breach it?' Wisconsin asked.
Michigan sighed. He wanted his squad to feel comfortable, but he couldn't hold the truth from them, not like Idaho did on so many occasions.
'Unfortunately, that's a flaw in the system. I don't know how much punishment the shield can take before it drops.'
He tapped on the door, and the roof-mounted hologram projector lit up, showing the facility floating in space.
'From what the Mother of Invention's scans can pick up, it's clear that most of the Innie forces are clustered at the hangars, plus they may have rocket launchers, so we're not going to land there. There's a viewing platform near the top of the facility which has a sealable airlock in the roof. We're going to land there, unscrew the hatch, drop in, and eliminate any attacking forces.'
As Michigan explained his plan, a Pelican flew towards the station, then pulled up, landed on one of the spires, and then disappeared.
'Indy will stay with the Pelican; make sure it's not targeted by any forces. When we've cleared out the hangar, I'll radio in, and Indy can land there. From there, we find the nuke, and disarm it.'
The facility disappeared, and a picture of a canister-like object sealed in a frame appeared.
'This is the weapon we are to disarm: a Pandora-class tactical nuke. Capable of annihilating all life and technology within a 5-mile radius, while doing minimal damage to structure. You've seen the Battle of Arcadia. It's essentially a thermobaric weapon combined with an emp.' Michigan explained.
'What's an emp?' Wisconsin asked.
'Electromagnetic pulse.' Michigan explained
'Actually, it's E.M.P. No one says emp.' Nebraska corrected.
'What are you talking about? No one calls it an E.M.P anymore. It spells emp. Simple enough?'
'Just saying, everyone calls it an E.M.P. 'Emp' will never catch on. Even if it does, those people will be idiots.'
'Emp is easier and quicker than saying E.M.P. Emp, one syllable. E.M.P, three. It's quicker that way.'
Wisconsin snapped her fingers to get their attention.
'Can we stop?! Michigan, you were saying?'
'I've pretty much covered it. Strap in, I think we're nearly there.'
Indiana's voice rang over the radio.
'Preparing to divert course for topside of facility. You'd better be right about this, Mitch!'
The Freelancers strapped in, and some seconds later, the Pelican pulled up, thrusters firing, and sending unsecured objects flying. Eventually, the Pelican levelled out, and landed on one of the spires of the orbital station.
'Grab anything you need and engage magnetic locks on your boots. When we open that hatch, everything that isn't secured will get sucked out of here until the pressure equalizes.' Michigan explained, securing the grenades on his belt and mags in the back-mounted bag on his armour. Nebraska grabbed as many belts for his turret as possible. Wisconsin had loaded all her shotgun shells in half of her chest mounted pockets, and placed two trauma kits on her greaves.
The hatch opened, and the air was sucked out. When the pressure equalized, Michigan cautiously walked to the edge. If any of them made a wrong move, they would possibly lose control, or worse, be propelled into space, a horrific death, one not worth thinking about. Especially after what had happened to Georgia. Michigan stepped off the door of the Pelican, and engaged the magnets in his boots once again. The others followed suit.
Michigan found the access hatch, and prepared to kick it in. He raised his boot, and slammed it down on the hatch. It caved in, and Michigan's magnetic boots brought him down to the floor. Wisconsin, Indiana and Nebraska climbed in after him, and Nebraska sealed the hatch. Instantly, the room flooded with oxygen.
'OK, boss, where do you think the nuke is?' Nebraska asked, grabbing his turret.
'These guys would probably want to do the most damage possible. They'd probably place it near the generator. You're going to have to extract it, so you can safely disarm it.'
'Wait, we're to extract it? What will you be doing?' Wisconsin asked.
'Bringing in Idaho, and finding Delaware. Move out.'
Nebraska and Wisconsin took a service lift, Michigan took another one.
The lift door opened, and Michigan charged out. Bringing his grenade launcher, he aimed at any potential incoming threats. Thankfully, there were none. He ran for the computer and looked at the security screens. He pulled out a security spike and jammed it into the power supply. The screen lit up; he had access. He brought up the security cameras, and saw Delaware under heavy guard by Idaho, and some ODST Insurrectionists, possibly the most elite available. They had her surrounded and at gunpoint.
But what surprised Michigan was the fact that Idaho had repainted his armour. Instead of the usual indigo and khaki, it was now red and black. He had been busy. He slammed his fist on the console, and ran out the door. Michigan was determined to rescue her, and he would. Even if it meant killing his former commander.