It was a dark and stormy night on the planet Trident. a thick mist rolled over an island in the midst of the storm, the sky as dark as a bottomless pit of ink as old lanterns burned in the ruins of a village nestled between twin peaks. the decade long storm continued to rage on, seemingly never ending. high above the misty mountains drenched in the everlasting storm fell a single dropship, soaring through the air like a flying brick. it had no power, no thrust, and no guidance what so ever, it simply fell, never once giving off any sort of power signature, a good 6 inches of Lead and rubber shielding saw to that. it was an old human method of entering an area undetected adapted by the Turrians, they called it a halo drop in human tongue, however Turrians adapted it for dropships, in turn giving it the name of ancestor's plunge. it was a one way trip, the drop ship wasn't mean to survive the trip in flyable condition, instead it's only goal was simply get the landing party to the planet undetected. the flight plan was simple. get dropped off sub orbit by a stealth ship, and fall like a rock through the atmosphere of the planet utilizing a careful balance of falling angles to keep the ship stable. then roughly 60 to 70 ft from the surface, engage an overdrive burst from the engines far exceeding the specs of the engines by bypassing any and all safeguards on the engines. the result literally melted every electrical component inside the ship's engines and electrical systems, the payoff? a landing party that impacts the ground below terminal volicity, skids a good 90ft, and comes to a safe stop. failure rate of this technique was 78 percent and a pilot needed a good 2 years under their belt in dedicated sims and 3 years of additional training to pull off, even then, it was always a one way trip. utilized only for black operations and incursions where no one could know the forces ever touched down in the first place.
the dropship sailed through the air with all the grace of a whale falling from a C130 as a dumb bomb, not very much but it was a sight to see if you could see it. the ship rocked back and forth, angling itsellf all the way as the pilot kept a carefull gauge of the speed in which he was traveling. visibility was slim to none even as they nearedthe ignition point, though argueably once they hit it, visibility got worse much quickly. kicking in the thrusters, the pilot gunned the throttle as far as it would go and then some, all over the ship sirens blared to life advising of surpassing safe parameters and collision. the VI got about 3 seconds of warning out before the ship kicked in it's internal mass effect fields to lessen the blow on the crew, trapping each of the passengers in a small mass effect bubble devoid of gravity for a brief moment. inside was like plunging straight into the depths of hell, the screeching, the tearing, the groaning of the ship, as well as the noise of the entire shuttle ripping through the ground, it was enough to give civilians nightmares for the rest of their natural lives. every drop team who ever participated in a ancestor's decent maneuver always stated the worst part of the opp was the landing, didn't matter if they lost half the platoon or squad or whatever, the worst part is always the landing, and here it was no acceptation. as it came to a full stop however, the ship still seemed to groan in pain, creaking and moaning it seemed from the stress of the impact. inside the lights had died out all save for two florescent strips of green light showing where the concussion charges were to blow the door open... other than that, it was as dark as the night outside in the shuttle.
the ship had crashed down in the middle of a thick swamp like Forrest, the notion that it hadn't smacked into a tree or other large object was either pure dumb luck, or skill of the pilot, that much was up for debate. the byu was just a click shy of a fishing village so ancient it still utilized wooden buildings more akin to cabins than the pristine building materials many were used to in this day and age, the dull lights of the lanterns hanging off of the buildings could just barely be seen with the assistance of night vision visors, if only barely, other than that, it was as black as the void, and windy as rage incarnate. attempting to use vocalizers to commune was impossible, group internal coms was the only thing that could pierce the howling winds and the thunderous beating of the rain. so harsh was the downpour, it would actually slowly degrade the shields of any infantry as long as they were in it.
ALL: react to the fall and the landing. blow open the door if you like.
Never Give Up, Never Surrender. for it is better to burn out than fade away.