The Albatross, the UNSC's replacement and successor to the aging and outdated pelican, left the UNSC Frigate Avalon three hours earlier than it should have. Not that it mattered too much, it just meant the mission would be completed sooner. It was a heavily armored and armed transport. Its armaments was two inboard missile pods built in the wings, four dual-barrel gauss cannons turrets located on the top, bottom, nose, and tail, eight automated anti-air rotory autocannons located on the top and bottom of the wings, and a triple-stage chaff and flare system for counter-offensive measures.<br/><br/>On board was a mixed Fireteam. A lone SPARTAN-V sat apart from the others, cycling the bolt of a SRS99C S6BP AM Sniper rifle. The Spartan, designated SPARTAN-D295, was watching the three ODSTs that made up the rest of his team. Fitting, as he was the Fireteam leader. Two of the ODSTs, engaged in a push-up contest as a means of showing off, he'd been on three missions with. The third, napping behind a crate of fragmentation grenades, was a unknown to him. All the Spartan knew was that the ODST was a marksman from the dossier on him. Most of it was coated in black ink. Not as much as his own dossier, but darn close to it.<br/><br/>"Yo, Spartan, front and center," The Albatross' pilot, some hotshot that was fresh outta boot camp, "Got something for you to see."<br/><br/>"On my way," The Spartan replied, standing while putting the sniper rifle he had on his back, "Fireteam, stand by."<br/><br/>He entered the cockpit of the Albatross, spotting a strange writhing tear that made his visor polarize to 65%. It was odd, giving him a bad feeling about it. Apparently Lunamaria had one as well, since she wirelessly connected to the Albatross's system. Lunamaria was a fellow Spartan who had her consciousness flashed into a digital form. He managed to rescue her by trapping her consciousness in an AI chip that he kept inserted in his helmet. She wasn't happy about it at first but she found she could do more for him as an AI than a human.<br/><br/>"Don't like it," The Spartan said, as he looked at the pilot, who shook his head at the unasked question.<br/><br/>"Lock and load, Team," He said as he returned to the cargo area, "Things are about to get interesting."<br/><br/>He gave the crate of grenades a kick, shoving it into the sleeping ODST.