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      It had been one hell of a party. Someone up in command had decided to throw a party celebrating the return of the Angels. The entire crew and complement of the Archimedes, along with select members of the press, local officials, and even a few members of UNSC command had been invited to attend. Dotson had neglected to play exhibit and had chose to stay with his squad and the rest of the special forces in their little corner of the main hall of the Archimedes, which cut down on the number of people pestering him for information about the Angel's return, autographs, and various people trying to sleep with him. It struck Dotson as odd that if he was just another marine, women would have nothing to do with him, but him and his squad's hero status had made them irresistible to the opposite sex. Fortunately the Angel's location in the corner of the main hall and surrounded by ODSTs and Marine SpecOps cut down on the number of unwanted visitors. It was understandable since most people didn't want to thread their way through dozens of ODSTs just to see someone, heroes or not. Unfortunately he still had to exchange pleasantries with all of the local politicians, which made him feel like burning the clothes he was wearing and scrubbing his entire body vigorously with some kind of powerful acid. Fortunately, the presence of UNSC Special Forces cut down the conversation time of the average politician dramatically. After much reveling, Dotson and the Angels returned to the barracks for a smaller but much more important celebration. They were celebrating the reforming of the Angels in their own way. After a bottle of champagne and endless amounts of catching up, the entire squad called it a night.
      The first thought in Dotson's head when he realized he was awake was what time is it? Dotson lay in bed with his eyes closed for another half an hour debating the merits of waking up or staying in bed, until something bounced off his head.
      "Unless you're a superior officer or an insanely beautiful woman, you better start running." He grumbled as he rolled over on to his back, eyes still closed.
      "Your damn right it's a superior officer, Dotson, and I'm not an insanely beautiful woman."
      Dotson's eyes snapped open as he rolled from his bunk and sprang to his feet.
      "Ten-SHUN!" he barked to get his squad moving faster.
      In the door stood General Jason Rice, the head of the UNSC Special Forces. He wasn't a big guy, nearly six inches shorter then Dotson, but broader at the shoulders. He had a face that seemed to be in a perpetual smirk, highlighted even more by the glasses he wore. He was in extremely good shape for man going into his fifties, even by Special Forces standards. His hair, recently gone gray, was long by military standards; it reached down to the base of his neck and was contained in a ponytail. He usually had his hair slicked back from his forehead. He had also, like Dotson, spent most of his life studying and practicing martial arts, in fact they had been taught by the same instructor. He reminded Dotson of a drill sergeant, seemingly callous and uncaring, but really worrying more about his men then the men themselves. Rice seemed to most to be constantly sarcastic and very frank, which was partially true. Rice was, however, a very professional and business like person.
      Rice stalked across the floor of the barracks towards Dotson, hands behind his back.
      " Now that I'm your SO, let's get some things straightened out, Lieutenant." Rice said as he marched closer towards Dotson, "I want this unit to be a model squad. No more loose discipline between the squad, no more mouthing off to superiors, and no more parties not officially sanctioned by me or another superior."
      Rice stopped in front of Dotson and stared straight at him, Dotson stared back unintimidated. The Angels waited with great anticipation they knew the inevitable was about to happen. The beginnings of a smirk began to form around Dotson's mouth; both of the men suddenly broke down in laughter. The Angels smiled and shook their heads, Rice was the same guy he was when he commanded their leader when Dotson was a Master Sergeant.
      Rice clapped a hand onto Dotson's shoulder, "It's nice to have you back, Junior Mint"
      "Don't call me that, sir" Dotson responded, blushing slightly, "So what brings you to this neck of the woods?"
      Rice's face took on expression of sadness, " Master Sergeant Daniella Moratalla was removed from duty earlier this morning due to a medical problem from the Needler wound she sustained at Capelli. She wanted me to give you this." Rice said holding out a data cube.
      Dotson looked shocked as he reached for the data cube. He took it from Rice's hand and walked over to his bunk where he kept his data pad. He placed the cube into the pad and activated the message in the cube.
      Daniella's face appeared on the data pad's screen.
      She didn't look the as she should have. She looked extremely sad, as if she had just found out she had a terminal disease. Her eyes looked as if all of the combat she had endured, all of the grief and pain, had caught up with her.
      The figure on the screen began speaking, "Sir, I ... I'm not very good at doing this sort of thing. I just wanted to thank you and all of The Angels for being my friends, no, more than that. For being like family, you, Keira, Jzou, James, David, and everyone, all of you are my family. I'm glad you brought me into the Angels, I had never felt so at home," a pair of tears trickled down her cheeks. "I can't say much more but, I will say one thing one more time. Thanks."
      Dotson deactivated the data pad. There was a dead silence in the room, every Angel lost in their own thoughts and memories. Rice looked at Dotson, he'd only seen Dotson this bad a few times, one of which was after Capelli.
      " I also came here to tell there's a mission open on a volunteer only basis, but I'm not sure you're up to it"
      "Sir, you insult my abilities," Dotson said over his shoulder, "Just because we're one man short doesn't mean we're combat ineffective." Dotson turned around to face Rice there was no sadness in his eyes, only cold determination. " We've fought in some of the hardest battles in UNSC history, we've lost men, we've had people die on us. And what did we do? Did we give up? Hell no, we pulled it together and kicked ass until our enemies were well on their way to Hell or wherever the Covies go when they die." Dotson walked towards Rice staring him straight in the eye, " I think the Angels are ready to send the covenant a very, very personal message." Dotson turned to The Angels, " And what message do we want to send to those bastards?"
      "Go back to hell where you belong?" Keira offered.
      "Exactly, and are you people up to kicking ET's ass?"
      "Hell yes, sir!" The Angels chorused
      "Well, General Rice I suppose that proves you wrong." Dotson said matter-of-factly
      "One of the times I'm glad I am. Now get your squad to the briefing room by 14:30."

      At 14:30 The Angels were seated in the briefing room, receiving their orders along with a group of ODSTs. The briefing room was an impressive collection of holographic projectors, computer screens, and various other devices that Dotson suspected were recording devices. The center was dominated by a tremendous holotank, device usually used to project a ship's AI, but in this case it was used to display things like three dimensional maps, pictures, and various other stuff that was really cool over two hundred years ago, but now you could find it in someone's living room. Going out into action, undermanned and outnumbered. Yep, just another day in The Angels, Dotson thought. His thoughts were interrupted as Rice started the briefing.
      " As of 04:00 hours this morning, a Covenant science ship crash landed on Mandolin, approximately 3000 miles southwest of here in The Great Mandolin Desert." A holographic image of the area appeared in the main holotank, including the latest not-quite geographic feature, the Covenant science ship, "It was shot down by the Saskatchewan, the Saskatchewan took heavy damage during the battle and is currently making repairs at the Mandolin shipyards. The rest of the fleet around Mandolin is setting up a blockade to prevent the ship from escaping, but there are no guarantees. The science vessel's crew, according to SATCOM, is making repairs on their vessel and it should be launch capable within a couple days. Your mission is to board the covenant ship and neutralize it. Both the Angel's and the ODST's six team will be carrying a HAVOK nuclear mine, your mission is to board the ship, and place the mine in the engine room, and clear the hell out." The holotank zoomed in to a side view of the ship, "ONI thinks the engine room is about here," a glowing spot appeared towards the rear of the ship, "but knowing how accurate they are it could be back on the Covenant home world. As for the forces on board the ship, it will probably include, Grunts, Elites, Jackals, and a few Hunters. Choose your firepower accordingly. It is also a safe assumption that there will be a few of the scientist Covenant on board. Also this mission is an assault mission, but don't go overboard. Minimize contact with the Covenant at all times, fire only if necessary. Any questions?" Rice said finishing up.
      Dotson raised his hand, "Sir, how will we get onboard the ship. Last time I checked the Archimedes didn't carry anything enabling Marines to fly, aside from the galley food."
      Rice chuckled, "Smart ass comments aside, your method for getting onto the ship will be the gravity lift, the Covenant use it to ferry troops and supplies between the ship and the surface, in case you didn't know."
      An ODST raised his hand, " Sir will the HAVOKs be set to life support settings?"
      Life support settings were used in high-risk missions, when the entire squad was wiped out, the HAVOK detonated, at least insuring the death of a lot of Covenant.
      "No," he responded, "The detonation codes will be given to your squad leaders and either of them can initiate the detonation. In case the teams are wiped detonation control will revert to the command shuttle where Colonel Curtis will detonate them if necessary. Anything else?" No one raised his or her hands, "Okay, good. You will use whatever extraction method is available to you. Get suited up, you leave for the desert in ninety minutes."
      The Angels and the ODSTs left the briefing room for the armory. They selected their gear. The standard issue armor for the Angels and the ODSTs was a modified version of the black suit. The black suit was basically an armored haz-mat suit with a few special features. It could mask the users thermal signatures, serve as a 30minute air supply, and deflect low caliber rounds, a nearly useless feature against the Covenant's energy weapons. The version The Angels and ODSTs used also enhanced their reflexes and strength, but nowhere near as much as the Spartans. It also contained a bio-monitor system capable of telling the team's status, such as wounded, KIA, or incapacitated. The bio-monitors were linked to the entire squad, so any member of the squad could check up on any other member of the squad.
      As for weapons Dotson selected an MA5C Battle Rifle, a modified version of the venerable MA5B. The MA5C had a longer barrel and a scope attachment. It sacrificed the infamous fire rate of the MA5B for increased accuracy; it fired about a third as fast, but was twice as accurate. Dotson loaded the rifle, then put an additional ten clips in the black suits ammo pouches. For his secondary weapon, he grabbed an M90 8-guage shotgun, just in case he needed to bring in some serious close-quarters firepower. He loaded the weapon, and placed sixty shotgun shells into the black suit's ammo pouches. He then grabbed an M6D pistol along with ten clips of ammunition.
      Keira grabbed her usual selection, an MA5B assault rifle, an MA2B sub machine gun, and a flame-thrower. The flame-thrower had always been her personal favorite weapon, to quote an old movie line "I LOVE the smell of napalm in the morning!"
      She lovingly prepped the weapon making sure every part was in working order, then began blissfully grabbing fuel canisters from a box labeled, WARNING: FLAMMABLE, HANDLE WITH EXTREME CAUTION! She loaded the thrower and put another five canisters into her rucksack. She continued blissfully, until a voice cut through her happiness.
      "Christ Keira, you're bringing that thing?"
      "Yes," she said, " You know what I say Lieutenant..."
      Dotson cut her off before she could say her catchphrase, "Yeah, Yeah, I know. You LOVE the smell of napalm in the morning. You know you have almost fried me about four times with that damn thing?"
      "Well, it's not MY fault that you enjoy being point man." She retorted
      "Well, you could aim AWAY from your superior officer..."
      David decided to end Dotson's tirade, "Grenade load out?"
      Dotson sighed, "the usual, four frag, one stun, one smoke, and two incendiary."
      David couldn't help but smile. Dotson certainly had his moments. David was amazed on how similar him and Keira were, almost like siblings. Which explains why Dotson and Keira usually teased and ribbed each other a lot. Several people had mentioned that they would make a cute couple. Yeah, David thought, assuming Dotson quits being such a cynic and divorces from his job. And if he stops being so fucking depressed. David had been a close friend of Dotson's since high school and was one of the few who understood how depressed the Lieutenant really got. It was almost like watching an engine burn itself out; something that seems inevitable but still surprises you.
      David resumed loading his weapons. He briefly considered bringing his sniper rifle, but he knew it would be damn near ineffective in such close quarters. He settled on bringing a battle rifle and an M6D pistol. David then rethought his decision and loaded and packed his sniper rifle, carrying the standard 24 spare rounds. He recalled the Boy Scout motto that Dotson often quoted, "Be prepared."
       He eyed the rest of the squads weapon choices; they were all choosing weapons that suited their role in the squad. James was taking an M73 Squad Support Weapon, a heavy machine gun that was the standard support weapon for UNSC Marines. It fired 13mm armor piercing shells that could tear through the shielding on an Elite in under a second of continuous fire. Alone the shells didn't do as much damage as the sniper rifle shells, but the SSW spit them out at almost the rate of an MA5B assault rifle. James also chose a Jackhammer M19 SSM rocket launcher. Jzou's weapon choice differed only slightly from his counterpart HW specialist, instead of carrying the M73 SSW he carried a M107 Mini Gun. The Mini Gun was a fearsome relative of the M41 LAAG mounted on the back of the Warthog. It was smaller and rather then firing 14.5x99mm armor penetrating rounds, it fired 10mm armor piercers at over 700 rounds per minute. The gun weighed in at 20 pounds unloaded but was worth the weight if you needed to kill a lot of Covenant very quickly.
      Stephen chose to bring an M90 shotgun, an MA5B assault rifle and ten satchel charges. Satchel charges were a devastating part of the Marines arsenal, each charge was about a pound of C-12 explosive that could be set on remote, timed, or proximity detonation. C-12 was a devastating combination of an incendiary explosive and a powerful mining explosive. One pound of C-12 was capable of shattering a Warthog into very small pieces of shrapnel or blowing the entire front end of a Scorpion tank. And Stephen was carrying about ten pounds of it, making him the most important man not to get anywhere near explosions or flame.
      Matt carried the usual load out for an electronics specialist, An MA5B assault rifle, an MA2B submachine gun, a heavily modified lock breaker, and the team's coms gear. Matt was the nerve center of the mission. His coms rig coordinated the data links between the Black Suits, contained data on various species of Covenant, carried various tools for rigging up com lines, and served as the teams connection with Rice back on board the Archimedes. If the squad needed to protect anyone, it was Matt.
      Dotson eyed his squad; everything seemed to be in order. Their weapons were loaded, their gear prepped and stored, and they seemed to be ready for combat. Dotson's thoughts were interrupted by a yell from the ODST side of the armory
       "Dotson! Twenty bucks says my squad kills more bugs then yours does!" The ODST's Six Team's commander, Lieutenant Hersch yelled.
      "Yer on Hersch," Dotson responded, " Might wanna ready yer money now!"
      Hersch chuckled, "We'll see, Dotson, we'll see."

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