If there was one thing that always got the blood running, it was a combat drop. Perhaps it was the rush of laughing in the face of death, knowing that nothing but a thin armored shell and one's standard-issue brass balls stood between the jumper and a grisly fate. Perhaps it was that primordial human desire to jump on (or off) things. Nintendo, Bungie, and the Sugarhill Gang certainly seemed to share that sentiment. 'Feet first into Hell,' or so the old saying went.<br/><br/>Plummeting to the ground feet-first, John drew his pistol as Joyeuse painted targets on his display. Taking aim, John burnt out the Phalanx pistol's heatsink, planting headshots into several of the Cerberus troops below. The altimeter ticked down. One thousand feet. John kicked his jump pack's thrusters into gear, slowing his descent to more a more reasonable speed. A brief thought hit the maneuvering gear, nudging him just slightly to the side. Perfect.<br/><br/>'Locking armor!' Joyeuse yelled above the roar of gunfire and air.<br/><br/>John's joints immediately went rigid to absorb the shock of landing on top of a Cerberus Phantom's skull like a thunderbolt thrown by some vengeful god. The poor thing didn't even have time to react. Unlocking Gold Experience's joints, John pivoted and reached out with a hand, blasting a fire team of troopers off their feet with a biotic blast. In the corner of his vision, John saw the squad's icons disperse on the motion sensor to take on the rapidly advancing Cerberus forces. They had their jobs to do. He had his. He moved right for the control room, liquefying the fire team on the entrance ramp with a biotic charge followed by a nova. Barriers temporarily burnt out, John tanked the flurry of rounds bouncing off Gold Experience's sanctified plating, ramming a lightning-wreathed fist through the sternum of an enemy sniper and crushing the windpipe of the man behind. Pushing the corpse off his arm, John pulled one of the dead man's flashbangs off his webbing and lobbed it into the room. There was a muffled bang followed by several curses in a number of Terran languages. John unholstered Goldfinger, the scattergun's genetic locks broken just in time for the mission, and killed the troopers inside with a flurry of hard-light flechettes, taking especial care to avoid hitting any of the systems and command consoles inside the building.<br/><br/>'Command center entrance chamber clear,' John said before moving further in. It was simple butcher's work, clearing the place of mortal soldiers in brief, brutal close quarters brawls. The walls were coated with gore and Reaper implant conductive fluid by the time John was done.<br/><br/>'Command center secure.' He got to work running the mass driver array's start-up routines, planting Joyeuse's AI chip into one of the computer ports to speed things along. Thank goodness for everyone stealing their technological advances from Prothean designs and standardization.<br/><br/>'Uh, chief?' Joyeuse's form manifested as a hologram above her embedded AI chip, a glowing octahedron of white light. 'Problem. The power plant needs a reboot.'<br/><br/>042's job. Czevak, Esone, and Bau were to clear the place out in the meantime. John removed her AI chip and returned it to his helmet. She wouldn't be able to do anything until power was restored anyway.<br/><br/>'Five, One. You reading me?'<br/><br/>042's voice was laced with static, but audible. 'One, Four. Statement: We read you. Generator facility clearance in progress. Mortal forces only so far.'<br/><br/>'Good,' John muttered. 'Get it done quickly. I've got the guns running through their start-up process and they need power before we can get them doing anyth--'<br/><br/>'Down!' Joyeuse yelled.<br/><br/>John ducked instinctively. A daiklave blade missed him by a hairsbreadth. When he tried to rise to return fire, a boot slammed into his face plate, battering his biotic barriers and hurling him back. Rolling onto his feet, John caught himself face to face with what was presumably another Cerberus Exalt. John's enemy was a Lunar this time, massive and bulky, decked out in Reaper cybernetics, sporting a mane of hair and growling deeply and hungrily. Well, not really a mane so much as a hilariously bad mullet, but the guy still looked terrifying. Full Moon Caste, and judging by the wealth of scars and the age of the cyber augs, one of the first to show up after Ilos. Totem? Uh. Mane, feline eyes, growling, big and ancient sword. Definitely a hawk totem, right? And John was almost a hundred percent sure he wouldn't win a contest of brute force here, either.<br/><br/>'You know,' the Lunar rumbled, 'most of the time people decide to get talky around this point, introduce themselves and whatnot. I think I'll just cut the shit and get to the fighting.'<br/><br/>Before John could even blink, the Lunar lashed out with a flurry of swings John could barely keep up with. The control center rang with the sound of hammer blows, the daiklave clanging against John's gauntlets with enough force to atomize a mortal. Then for a moment, the blows subsided. John readjusted his guard for the inevitable kick just a touch too late. The Lion's boot caught him in the stomach, flinging John through a wall and out onto the courtyard below. Twisting in midair, the Zenith landed on his feet, planting both hands into the ground to slow his backwards skid.<br/><br/>Landing with a heavy thud, the Lion adopted a martial stance, pausing as he studied John's own form. They circled slowly, oblivious to the small arms fire and fighting nearby. Simultaneously, they charged, and blade met fist with a peal of thunder.