Tournament - ODST's vs. Zygerrian Slavers

[Mercenaryblade]

The UNSC Tecumseh exited the slipspace rupture, a green moon orbiting a large gas giant looming ahead. The ship was but a frigate—not as imposing as the Infinity—but it was a workhorse of the fleet. Aboard, the crew manned their action stations like a well-oiled machine. Everyone had a task, each one as important as the last.

In a small briefing room, a squad of six ODSTs clad in dark armor stood as the briefing officer delivered the details of their next assignment.

“Listen up, Helljumpers, we’re en route to Argent One. Primarily a mining and agricultural colony. Not long ago, we received a distress call before it suddenly cut off at the source.”

The ODSTs exchanged wary glances and low groans. A sudden loss of communication was rarely a good sign.

“I don’t need to remind any of you how few colonies we have left since the Covenant War. We can’t afford to lose this one too, not with The Banished and Prometheans raiding across the galaxy. That being said, our forces are stretched thin. You’re all we’ve got right now, and you are the tip of the spear.”

“Do we know what we’re up against?” Mendoza, the scarred squad leader, asked. A veteran of the Covenant War, Mendoza’s experience showed in his calm yet hardened demeanor.

“Unknown,” the officer replied.

“Probably Kig-Yar pirates,” Corporal Williamson grunted. “Fought them as a grunt before I jumped into hell.”

“Enough speculation. Expect the unexpected. Now arm up and report to your drop pods. Good luck.”

The squad dispersed to the armory, tension crackling between them like static electricity. The six soldiers prepped their gear with muscle memory honed through years of training and combat.

Mendoza slotted magazines into his Battle Rifle, his grizzled face set in a mask of professionalism. He gave quiet nods to each squadmate, sizing them up before the drop.

“Check your weapons and gear twice. I want no malfunctions on the ground,” Mendoza said.

“Aye, boss,” replied Specialist Tara Voss, the squad’s sniper. Tall and lean, with sharp eyes that never missed a detail, she slung her SRS99-S5 AM Sniper Rifle over her back. Her helmet bore a custom red stripe, a signature marking from her previous unit.

Private Dax “Rook” Kellan, the squad’s newest member, nervously loaded shells into an older M45 Tactical Shotgun. “This is a step up from running patrols on Meridian,” he said, his voice trying to sound confident but betraying his nerves.

Williamson slapped him on the shoulder. “Stick close to us, Rook, and try not to get your head blown off.”

“Give him a break, Will,” said DeMarco, the squad’s demolitions expert. He hefted a SPNKR rocket launcher like it weighed nothing. “The kid’ll be fine.”

Sergeant Dana Lin checked the sights on her M7S SMG. She was the team’s close-quarters specialist, her calm precision belying her ability to go loud when needed.

“Let’s keep chatter low,” Lin said. “We need focus if this op goes sideways.”

Finally, Jacob “Graves” McAllister, the team’s tech expert, holstered his Sidekick pistol and slid extra frag grenades into his harness. “I’ll make sure we keep comms running on the ground, assuming there’s anything left to connect to.”

Mendoza gave one final look over the squad. “All right, Helljumpers. Lock and load. Spartans might be tied up elsewhere, but we’re ODSTs. We don’t need armor that makes us seven feet tall to get the job done. Let’s bring our people home.”

Minutes later, the squad stood inside the drop bay, each one sealed inside their pods. The countdown timer blinked down from thirty seconds.

“Drop in three… two… one!”

The pods released, hurtling through the void toward the moon below. Reentry flames flared around the pods as they punched through the atmosphere. Voss gripped her rifle tight, her heartbeat steady. Mendoza clenched his jaw, scanning his pod’s monitors for any early signs of trouble.

Rook’s voice crackled through comms. “I hope it’s just pirates.”

Mendoza answered, “Hope for the best. Prepare for the worst.”

As the pods pierced the cloud cover, the surface of the colony came into view—burning fields and shattered buildings. Strange, angular ships hovered above the ruins.

“Those aren’t Banished,” Lin said.

“No,” Voss replied, her voice tight. “And they’re not Prometheans.”

Mendoza narrowed his eyes. “Eyes up, Helljumpers. Looks like we just made first contact.”

The pods impacted close to one another and the doors popped open as each ODST stepped out, weapons at the ready. Mendoza took charge instantly. 

“Graves, radio the Tecumseh let them know we’ve landed.” 

“On it.” Graves replied before his face fell. “Strange.” 

“What’s up?” Williamson asked. 

“Something’s interfering. I got nothing.” Graves replied. 

“Voss, up the hill get me eyes on the settlement.” Mendoza ordered. 

The sniper nodded before she scaled the hill and flattened, she could see the ruined settlement before them with the strange ships all around as well as a large pulsing device, even more distressing were the rows of cages filled with colonists. 

She scampered back to the rest of the squad, “Looks like they’ve got a jamming device set up.” 

Mendoza cursed, “DeMarco, looks like we’re going to need your special touch.” 

The demolitions expert chuckled behind his helmet, “Thought you’d never ask.”  

The angular ships hovered above like menacing shadows, their hulls sleek and unfamiliar. Cages filled with frightened colonists lined the perimeter, guarded by tall, armored figures wielding strange weapons.

"You seeing this?" Voss whispered through the shortrange comms, her sniper scope focused on the enemy. "Those things look... feline? Maybe bat-like? Big ears."

Williamson peeked out, eyes narrowing behind the helmet. "Cats with guns? Or bats with attitude? Either way, they’re ugly."

"Focus," Mendoza growled. "I don’t care what they look like. They’re armed, organized, and holding civilians. Graves, status on that jammer?"

Graves tapped at his wrist console. "Definitely tied to that big glowing device near the center. Signal interference is thick. We take it out, we get long range comms back."

"DeMarco, you’re up." Mendoza pointed to the jammer. "Blow it sky-high. Lin, Williamson, you’re covering him. Rook, you stick close to Graves. Voss, keep us covered."

"Roger that." DeMarco hefted his rocket launcher, eyes glinting behind his visor. "Let’s make some noise."

*
 
In the largest ship overlooking the colony, High Mistress Kaelara lounged on her ornate throne, golden armor gleaming under dim lighting. The scent of fear and sweat filled the air—fragrant proof of her growing power.

"Excellent stock," she purred, her ears flicking lazily. "The outer worlds always breed the strongest workers. They’ll fetch a high price in the markets."

One of her guards bowed. "The resistance was minimal, Mistress. Their defenses fell quickly. Shall we process the next batch?"

Kaelara’s sharp eyes scanned the prisoners, pausing on a terrified mother clutching her child. "No," she said with a predatory grin. "Break their spirit first. Make them beg to serve. Then we process them."

A sudden explosion rocked the ground, sending Kaelara to her feet. "What was that?"

"Intruders!" a guard shouted. "Humans, armed soldiers!"

Kaelara’s eyes burned with rage. "Unleash the hunters. Show them why Zygerriens are feared across the stars."

*

Mendoza’s team struck fast and hard. DeMarco’s rocket obliterated the jammer in a fiery blast, sending debris and sparks raining down. The ODSTs surged forward under the cover of smoke and chaos.

"Tecumseh, this is Anvil squad! We’re online and engaging hostiles, send reinforcements!" Graves barked into his comms.

The response crackled back instantly. "Copy that, Helljumpers. Pelicans inbound. Hold the line."

Blaster bolts streaked through the air, forcing the squad into cover. The Zygerriens fought back with energy bows and blaster files, their weapons lighting up the battlefield.

The battle was on, six ODST’s against overwhelming odds, and only on old frigate for backup. The odds weren’t favourable, but Mendoza had been through worse. If this was to be his last battle, he’d make it memorable. 
 

[Callisto]

Learn More About
ODST's
Read more about ODST's at Wikipedia
Official Site: Microsoft Links: Wikipedia

Zygerrian Slavers
Read more about Zygerrian Slavers at Wikipedia
Official Site: Lucasfilm Links: Wikipedia

[Twogunkid]

The Zygerrians are ultimately not equipped to take the kind of casualties they need to to beat the ODSTs. It depends on Zygerian air supremacy and the only craft we see is more for hit and run extracting slaves.

[Mercenaryblade]

14 hours ago, Twogunkid said:

The Zygerrians are ultimately not equipped to take the kind of casualties they need to to beat the ODSTs. It depends on Zygerian air supremacy and the only craft we see is more for hit and run extracting slaves.

We did see a few Starhooper starfighters being used by Zygerriens.



Those could potentially shoot down the reinforcement Pelicans coming in, or strafe the ODST's. Zygerriens strike me as the type that doesn't give AF about collateral damage.