A/N: I think I have too many projects. This one's been cooking around for a while. It's a follow-up/continuation/prequel/sequel thing for Future Perfect, and falls between chapters two and three of that, and after the conclusion of Kuro Arashi: The Black Storm. So that means there will almost certainly be omgwtfbbq spoilers for the future plot developments of Kuro. If you don't want to see that, then don't read. It's on you. All I have to say is that it's a good thing that I've got the major plot for Kuro already laid out and detailed. This'll be sort of a collaborative work between the director/primary author of Kuro, myself Chris Ganale, and Lorenzo Ruiz's actor. Reason being that I'm the authority on all things Kuro and know a hell of a lot of Halo lore, and Lorenzo's actor is our military guy and can fill in the gaps I leave on that, as well as some more obscure Halo lore.

Standard disclaimers apply: Halo 3 and all licensed characters, incidents, and organizations are the licensed copyright of Bungie and Microsoft corporation. Chao Lingshen and other mentioned and appearing Negima characters and organizations are the licensed copyright of Ken Akamatsu and Del Ray. All original characters, events, and plot details are the not-exactly-licensed copyright of Project: Arashi.

Arms Race

November 4, 2552
UNSC Sector Command Base "Tama's Nest," Kanagawa Prefecture, Japan
0217 hours, local time

The commander's office was almost pitch black, partially due to the late hour of the meeting, but mostly due to the commander's personal preference to remain literally and figuratively in the shadows. The only illumination in the room was a faint blue glow from a palm-sized holographic panel that the base's dedicated AI manifested on. Right now, though, the panel sat idle on the corner of the commander's desk.

"Sergeant Major, I have a mission for your squad." The commander's voice, female, possessed with a distinct and unmistakable British accent, flowed like red velvet out of the darkness. Illuminated by the the wan light of the holoprojector, the only part of her visible in the darkness, the commander's left arm rested on the arm of her chair, the black uniform of the Office of Naval Intelligence bearing the insignia of a UNMC colonel.

The sergeant had, quite literally, been called directly out of bed for this meeting with her commanding officer. As such, her 'uniform' consisted of her standard-issue PT clothing, disheveled dirty blonde hair, and a half-asleep expression. She smothered a yawn, then straightened up and did the best imitation of standing at attention that she could in her current state of almost-undress. "Yes, ma'am. We're ready to take this mission at any time."

"Excellent. You'll be leaving within the hour." The commander's left hand reached forward, tapping commands into the holoprojector. "You and your squad will take a Pelican into the Hida mountains in Nagano Prefecture." At this, a holoprojection of Japan appeared over the panel, rotating slowly in place. After a moment, the image zoomed in to the prefecture in question, along the northern coast of Japan, and then again to the mountain range. "Your task is to wait with a special energy detection unit you will be provided with, and within the time frame of 0330 hours and 0500, you should pick up a surge of energy. You will proceed to the origin of the energy surge and pick up a high-priority VIP, and return here with the target. Your target will be disoriented and probably incapable of self-defense when you arrive, so it is vital that you protect the target from any hostile Covenant forces that may have also detected the energy signature."

The sergeant nodded. It was a little far-fetched, but with the Covenant breathing down humanity's neck, the fact that they were actually going out of their way to recover this VIP meant that they were probably somehow vital to the war effort. "Understood, ma'am. Our target?"

Once more, perfectly-manicured fingers tapped commands into the holoprojector. The sergeant ignored the curiosity inherent with a commander that took the time for such frivolous and wasteful activities. The rotating image of Japan disappeared, replaced with a bust of a young Chinese woman in her early twenties. Her presumably-black hair hung just below the level of her shoulders, and her face, while not lacking in the classic beauty, showed that she was a veteran of many battlefields.

"Your target answers to the name Chao Lingshen."

--

Armory, Tama's Nest
0226 hours, local time

The lights of the small, but well-stocked armory lit on in slow sequence, stuttering to life and illuminating two-foot patches of the walls, floors, and weapon lockers in sequence. One stubborn grouping of lights at the far end of the room flickered on and off continuously. Tama's Nest was an old base, constructed just about the time that humanity was colonizing Mars in the early 22nd century.

Five Marines wearing the black, self-sustaining body suits of the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers entered the armory. Motion and IFF sensors within the room connected to the base's computer network sorted out within a second of their entry that these ODSTs were here to gear up for a mission. All at once, recessed weapon racks along the walls containing dozens of BR55HB battle rifles, M7 caseless submachine guns, M6G Magnums, and MA5C assault rifles. The double-row of weapon lockers situated to form a central corridor lit up, the pod doors sliding open, to reveal the heavier weapons of the arsenal: SRS99D-S2 sniper rifles, M90A shotguns, and M41 SSR rocket launchers. Several lockers toward the far end of the room were actually turret cases for AIE-486H heavy machine guns, LAU-65D/SGM-151 missile pods, and M7057 defoliant projectors. One still-secured pod in the back even contained a prototype Spartan laser, but that was a weapon that would not be brought to bear on this mission.

With a practiced ease, the five ODSTs split up and pored over the weapon racks. The smaller four each took a battle rifle and four spare clips, and some sort of secondary weapon. The sergeant, identified by the red color patch on her shoulder, took paired Magnums and slipped them into the holsters on the outsides of her thighs. Another man took an MA5C as his backup, and a woman with short, so-light-it-looked-pink red hair with a field radio on her back chose an M7 submachine gun, and the last, also a female, chose a sniper rifle, which would end up being the primary in her case. The last Marine, who looked to be about as big as a fully-armored Spartan supersoldier, claimed the rocket launcher and two reloading tubes. To this formidable arsenal he added a shotgun and a demolitions kit.

At the moment, none of the ODSTs wore their helmets, and the man who had picked up the assault rifle, whose sharp facial features lent him the appearance of a bird of prey, eyed his large comrade's kit. "You know, we're not going out there to blow a hole in a Covenant battleruiser, Kasuga," he said.

Staff Sergeant Johnathan Kasuga, built like an old-school professional wrestler but with a heart of gold, smiled at his squadmate and hefted the bulky rocket launcher. "It never hurts to have an extra insurance policy, Ryuu. And you've even got your choice, State Farm or Allstate." He hefted the launcher again and then the demolitions kit, respectively.

"Like a good neighbor..." First Sergeant Akio 'Ryuu' Sakurazaki rattled off, intentionally off-key. He paused. "Wait, wouldn't the rockets be Allstate? You're in good hands and whatever? I mean, I figured the planted explosives would be more of a good neighbor."

Kasuga shrugged. "You think too hard."

Silence filled the room for a few moments, broken only by the mechanical clicks of bolts cocking back, magazines sliding into place, and safeties switching on. Suddenly, Akio's head came up. "Oh, I just remembered." He reached into a breast pocket of his tactical vest and produced a small, triangular chip with glowing lights at the tips. "Corporal Rivale, I finished this for you."

The sniper, Corporal Cynthia Rivale, a short woman with flame-red hair and eyes the color of emeralds, delicately leaned her chosen sniper rifle against the weapon locker it had come from and approached the squad's technical genius, taking the triangular chip and turning it over in her gloved hand. "What is it?" she asked, her Irish accent readily apparent.

"It's the best portable, reusable active camouflage I can give you without having a dedicated AI to help control it," Akio answered. "It's nowhere near as good as an Elite's active camouflage, but it distorts your outline and makes you partially invisible. Just plug it into your helmet, I incorporated a self-extracting installer package into it."

Cynthia looked at the chip for a moment, then tucked it into a pocket on her belt and patted it once, her assurance that she would use it in the field. "Thanks," she said with a nod, as economical of words as she was of ammunition, and returned to her sniper rifle.

"Sergeant Fei," the woman with the field radio said. "Are we going to have a dedicated Pelican pilot or will I be flying?"

Alysia Fei peered through the optical scope of her battle rifle for a moment, then lowered the weapon. "Dedicated pilot," she answered, then looked around at her squad. "Everyone all set?" Each one of them indicated they were. "Alright. Then let's do it."

She slammed a magazine into her battle rifle, then pulled back the bolt with an echoing clack.