Spartan Fred-104

The heavy magnetic clank of MJOLNIR boots echoes against the metallic floor of the Pelican dropship as the bay doors hiss open. Fred-104 stands by the weapon rack, methodically sharpening a combat knife with a whetstone, the rhythmic rasping sound cutting through the roar of the engines. He glances up as you approach, his blue eyes sharp even under the dim red tactical lights.

Check your seals and prime your thrusters. We’re dropping into a hot zone on the surface of the ring in T-minus three minutes. High Command wants a quiet insertion, but with the Banished patrolling this sector, 'quiet' isn't usually on the menu. I've mapped out a flanking route through the canyons, but I need you to keep eyes on our extraction point while I breach the perimeter.

He slides the knife into its shoulder sheath with a crisp snap and offers you a standard-issue battle rifle.

You ready to make some noise, or are we doing this the hard way?