The Devil's Own: Prologue to War

Author's Note: I own only those characters which are original creations. Everything else, including the story line upon which these are based, is property of their respective corporations, namely Bioware and Microsoft.

Thanks are due to both Minor Itch's story "Through The Gates of Hell", which provided some inspiration with its humor and ideas, as well as the fan-made web series "Helljumper" which is one of the worst portrayals of the ODST and military life I've ever seen, never mind how much of the canon storyline behind the ODST it ignores outright. Platoon with Charlie Sheen was better.

The names of the men used are based upon real men, many of whom I served alongside in Afghanistan. Some were absolute disasters, others were consummate professionals and the epitome of what every man in arms should strive to be.

This is dedicated to those professionals. You will always be my brothers.

"Normal conversation"
"Mental conversation"
"Radio conversation"
"Loudspeakers"
"Printed Words"

Now, let us begin...

Then should the warlike Harry, like himself,
Assume the port of Mars and at his heels,
Leash'd in like hounds, should famine, sword and fire
Crouch for employment.
~Henry V, William Shakespeare

Orbital Defense Platform Nassau
Major Michael Hennessy's day was already bad. Earth was under attack, ODPs Cairo and Athens had been blown up, and now a Covenant fleet was forcing its way planet side. Still, that was something you could work with. Kill the bad guys, clean up the mess, party hardy. What the good Major could not stomach, nay what infuriated him beyond measure- his marines were not in the fight! It was exactly the opposite of where any marine worthy of his emblems wishes to be.

They'd been chasing Covvies for 2 years on the fringe when the message came down from on high- "Company D, 1st Battalion, 105th Regiment ODST shall report to Port Nassau Orbital Defense Platform, pursuant to garrison duties as the shipboard detachment". To the men of Devil Company (for that was how they were known amongst each other and by their enemies) it was an insult. They should be out hunting Covvies, not babysitting a bunch of squids in a safe, boring place like earth!

Now though, the war had come to them. From the view port, Hennessy observed ships clashing, wreckage tumbling through the atmosphere, brilliant red streaks tumbling across the sky. But two hours later, still no word had come down. Looking over his shoulder, he surveyed his men, clustered up in fire teams, sleeping or eating in their armor. Veterans understand the need for both, and the men under his command were graduates of the hardest school mankind could provide- the modern battlefield.

All it took was a word and they'd be in the drop pods, flying towards the Earth below at Mach Jesus, Hennessy in the vanguard. Every marine there knew it. Sigma Epsilon, Tyr's World, Cumberland, Jethro's Redoubt, nearly a hundred worlds and enough light years to last a lifetime he'd lead them across. They followed Hennessy out of loyalty earned in blood and sweat and tears and the reek of cordite on all those planets.

"Delta-Six this is Nassau Actual, why aren't you in the CIC?" The intercom squawked.
Turning, Hennessy strode to the wall-mounted view screen and slapped the response button with an armored fist, the ring of metal on metal causing heads to turn in his direction.

"This is Devil-Six, I'm awaiting deployment orders in the Morgue."
"It's impossible for you to get briefed if you're five decks away" came the nasal reply.
Hennessy paused, knowing what needed to happen next. And not liking it one bit.
"On my way now" he snarled, cutting the connection with the convenient expedient of a gauntleted fist straight through the screen.
Top Sergeant Torrez grimaced as Gunny Moore shook his head. "It's one of them days Rat" the Gunny declared, filing out of the Morgue with a grin. "Somebody's gonna die today" Antonio 'Rat' Torrez declared solemnly. "Better call the chaplain before we get there."

Five minutes into the briefing, Hennessy felt his blood pressure starting to climb rapidly. Commander Howard just wouldn't shut up and get to the point already! Every time he opened his damn mouth, it was like watching a public masturbation demonstration. Typically, Michael avoided such meeting by the simple expedient of a "full training schedule" but this, this circle jerk was just killing him. And Howard wasn't called Dick-less for nothing. It showed in his every demeanor and behavior.

"First Sergeant Torrez" he murmured "please turn off that projector".
The Brute Spiker which rested in a cross-draw holster on his left thigh cleared leather faster than the normal eye could track. A single Spiker round punched through one side of the projector system and out the other, cutting off the Power Point which Commander Dick-less had running. Needless to say, there was much shouting and screaming from the assembled officers.

"And now that we've taken care of that problem, where are my marines needed?" Hennessy announced to the room.

"We have at least 5 other topics to discuss Major! How dare you interrupt me, and with a weapon which I know is unauthorized! Master-at-Arms!" Howard screeched.
Click. In a single smooth motion, Michael Hennessy launched himself across the space between the two men, grabbed Howard by the throat and pinned him against the bulkhead.

"Right now there is a Covenant battle fleet in orbit over Earth! An assault carrier full of God knows what is trying to force a beachhead on the surface of the planet! And you asswipes want to talk about how we're not doing maintenance on our shovels!"

A junior officer made to move, only to hear the sound of Gunny Moore's gauntlet tapping on the barrel of his suppressed SMG.
"Why don't you sit and relax, sir?"

Something indecipherable burbled up from Howard's throat throat, fueling Hennessy's rage even further. His free hand flew up in a left cross that connected on Howard's temple, rendering him unconscious as he was unceremoniously dropped on the deck.

"I am taking my marines hunting. We are deploying to New Mombasa. We are going to kill any hinge heads that we find in the middle of that goat-fuck down there. And if any of you attempt to stop me, I will shoot you for cowardice in the face of the enemy."
Captain Carney, the station CO started to speak. Hennessy skewered him with a look.
"You don't have the balls to make me do shit. Be silent."

Hennessy surveyed the room. Somehow, he knew he wouldn't be coming back here. "What do I need, what do I need?" He pondered, almost absently.
"Jack, you listening?"
An AI sprang to life on the pedestal near him, dressed in the panoply of an 18th century Caribbean pirate.
"It's Captain Jack, mate, and am I to presume you'd like some company on your trip to fabled New Mombasa?"
"That I am."
"Then put me in your suit and let's go find some saucy wenches, savvy?"

Jack disappeared into a data crystal, one which fit perfectly into the storage slot on Hennessy's helmet. Now he felt ready to go. For a moment his eyes closed, and all he could hear were the words of an ancient generation. As thou didst help our fathers, help thou our host today. Calm filled him. And as he marched out of the CIC, headed towards the certain death which awaited him, no man who watched Michael Hennessy could say he was unprepared.

New Mombasa, Earth
Those who lived through the experience would later recount their horror at watching as the Prophet of Regret opened a Slipspace portal above the city. The lives lost numbered in the millions. It was not until after the battle though, nay the end of the Human-Covenant War, that the Disappearance of Delta Company, 1st Battalion, 105th regiment, would be associated with the opening of the Slipspace portal. The veil between dimensions having been rent asunder for a brief moment, it was near impossible to determine their final destination. All that remained was a single audio transmission burst by Staff Sergeant Brian Kramer: "Oh fist-fuck me in the ass!"

There are three great mysteries in the history of the UNSC. The whereabouts of Master Chief John-117 and Admiral Preston Cole are two of them. The third is the location of Delta Company, 1st Battalion ODST. They are listed "Missing In Action" rather than KIA, on the rolls of the the Marine Corps. Whenever the battalion (or regiment for that matter) is formed and the missing company's report requested by their sergeant major, 1st Battalion gives the resounding cry "Feet first into hell!" It is a fitting epithet for the men we know as Helljumpers.
-Esther Nakagawa, Time Magazine 2555

Horizon
Jane Shepherd's day had started badly and gone straight to TARFU. The GARDIAN turrets weren't working, she had Collectors coming out of her ass, and no extra support in sight. At least I don't have batarians to deal with too, she mused wryly, dropping back into cover as rifle shots punched through the air where she had just been standing.

"Shepherd this is Normandy" Joker's voice called out over the com link. Something about his voice put Shepherd off, and she reached up to touch the headset plugged into her ear.
"Send it Normandy."
"Some sort of spatial distortion just opened up above the planet."
"Describe it."
"Almost four-zero clicks wide and nearly one-zero tall. Hold it! I'd got something coming through!"
"More Collectors?" Shepherd's blood ran cold at the thought of Collectors receiving reinforcements. They were barely able to hold the line with the small garrison on hand.
"No" Joker's voice faltered. "It looks like escape pods of some kind."

Suddenly a new voice filled the com lines. It was harsh and snarling. And human sounding? This day had just gotten much weirder for Shepherd.
"This is Devil-Six to any UNSC units in the area, who can tell me what the hell is going on?"
"Devil Six, this is Commander Shepherd Systems Alliance. I don't know who the UNSC is, but are you human?"
"Damned right I am."
"In that case, if you're willing to help me rescue a bunch of human colonists from an alien attack, I'll do my best to help you sort things out afterwards."
"Sounds fair. We'll adjust trajectory on your beacon and be dirt side real quick."
"We?"
"Watch and learn."